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Look at me, look at me, driving and I won't stop. And it just feels so good to be alive and on top. My reach is global, my tower secure, my cause is noble, my power is pure.



The son of a mafia don, Chris D'Amico always had everything he could ever want, but at the same time nothing at all. The world laid at his feet, hundreds of peons happy to follow his every order (within reason) simply because they knew his father could and would crush them like a bug if they didn't (literally, as much as figuratively), hundreds of associates but zero friends. So he surrounded himself with comics instead, immersed himself in the world of Marvel, DC, anything and everything he could get his hands on.

Constantly under his father's shadow, seen as a whiny, spoiled brat with little true potential (what kind of don would a geek who spent more hours than not with his nose in cartoons make, one who spent most of his allowance on comics and figurines and toys rather than on expanding his own influence?), when Kick-Ass came onto the scene and upended the family business, finally his own interests and proof that his aspirations were more than just empty assurances collided.

And so Red Mist was born.

An attempt to find the mask responsible, a clever ruse, but never one that was intended to hurt, until a new attack by the real culprits left a front business in ashes and goons dead, and Kick-Ass and Red Mist on opposite sides of the game.

It was probably just as well; the more he hung out with his inspiration, his hero in a wetsuit, the more he grew to dislike the punk, the kid who wanted to do good but feared the lengths it often took. Shiny-faced optimism with none of the teeth, he whined when things looked difficult even while plunging into them half-cocked, and it was just so frustrating when compared with the strictly regimented style of his own life. He found himself daydreaming about making him hurt, making him scream, about him broken and bleeding and begging, and it simultaneously sickened him and excited him.

But then, maybe that was just friendship for you. Never having had any before, outside of the bodyguards who accompanied him everywhere and really couldn't have been called friends, he couldn't have said what it was "supposed" to be, only what theirs was, if you could really call someone you'd never seen without a mask on a "friend". But then Kick-Ass was carted off to who-knows-where, to serve penance for a crime he hadn't even committed. It was a shame, really.

The friendsip, such as it was, might have been salvaged, just maybe, he might have had a chance to explain, to mend the fences, only...wrong time, wrong place, wrong circumstances, and while maybe Kick-Ass hadn't really been in with Big Daddy and Hit Girl and their ridiculous vendetta...it was too late to separate them now. In for a penny, in for a pound, and in the end blood was thicker than water. Family first.

He found the torture didn't make him as uncomfortable as he'd thought it would. At least...not in the way he'd been expecting.

And once Frank D'Amico met his end, well. Then all bets were off anyway.

Meet Chris. Red Mist. Whichever; he's still Finding Himself these days. Too violent, angry, and callous for a hero, too disorganized for true villainy, he's still working it out.

But he'll get there. And when he does?

You'd better watch out.

I can hand out a million vaccinations, or let 'em all die in exasperation. Have 'em all healed of their lacerations, have 'em all killed by assassination. I can make anybody go to prison, just because I don't like 'em, and I can do anything with no permission; I have it all under my command.

[DISCLAIMER: not Chris (...either one), not Millar, and I'm in no way associated with Kick-Ass in any capacity; I own the movie and the comics, but that's about it. Mun is over 18, muse is...17 but from a 'verse that's rated MA, and no offense is intended through anything that comes out of this account. Chris tends to be a foulmouthed little shit with a marked propensity for violence and a bit of a psycho streak as of late; he can and will come across as anything from innocent and naive to a stone-cold sociopath and anything in between depending on the situation, so be aware -- my particular take tends to be comics canon (more or less) placed in the movie-verse, so expect a much darker, more vicious interpretation of the muse in general. Muse opinions and actions are in no way a reflection of Mun ones.]