Crime fighting lawyer
Appearance: About 6’6" and powerfully built. He has shaggy blond hair and he looks like he spends a lot of time outside.
Brass Knuckles of Guilt
Bloodhound named McGruff
Megingjord- a power belt that Thor once used.
Animal 1 (Dogs)
BioVincent’s childhood really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; he grew up in a modest home in the suburbs with a loving family. Every year he spent most of his time at school (which he hated,) and every summer he spent a precious month on his family’s farm, far away from the bustle of the city. He idolized his father, a detective for the Cleveland police department who taught him to respect the rule of law, and he loved his mother who worked from home as a writer and made him believe that good always triumphed over evil. He made friends and played sports, and eventually he grew up and started looking at colleges.
Vince had always been tall and naturally athletic, and he was one of the best tight ends to ever go through his high school, so despite only average academic performance, he had plenty of options. Still, it was an easy decision; he chose to attend Ohio state on a full athletic scholarship just as his father had before him. That’s when his life went to hell.
Just weeks before the beginning of Vince’s first semester his parents were killed in a head on collision while they were out picking up the supplies for his going away party. The passengers of the other vehicle, a trio of meth dealers on the run from the police, were fine. To say Vince was upset would be an understatement. He gave up his scholarship, moved to his grandparents’ farm, and sank into a deep depression.
Then came the trial, and would you believe it? The meth-heads who, on top of killing two upstanding citizens, were stoned, resisting arrest, and in possession of enough meth to supply a large and densely populated area, got a total of ten years in prison, all because the prosecutor messed up some paperwork. That’s when Vince got angry, really angry. And when the criminals were blown away a few weeks later when they “tried to break out”, he actually felt good. He knew he shouldn’t; it went against everything his parents had taught him, but still he finally felt like justice had been served.
It was around this time that he realized what he had to do. He reapplied to Ohio state, this time without any intention of playing football. After he was accepted he devoted himself to his classes. Originally all he had wanted was to follow his father into the police force, but now he was determined to make it to law school. He would devote himself to making sure that criminals faced the punishment they deserved. Seven years later he finished tenth in his class at Columbia law and passed the bar with flying colors. Instead of accepting any of the high paying corporate positions he was being offered he took an ADA position in Cleveland.
For the first several years of his career he mainly dealt with your average criminals: drug dealers, thieves, drunk drivers, occasionally a rapist or a murderer, but nothing too big. Still, he went after each and every one of them with true fervor. Once he was prosecuting them he never let them go and he always pushed for the maximum sentence. More often than not, he got it. There wasn’t anything flashy about the way he handled himself in court, in fact he tended to come off as gruff and irritable, but he had a zeal for prosecuting the scum that came up in front of him, he was meticulous with his paper work, and he always came off as being earnest and straightforward unlike many of the defense attorneys.
His big break came not long after he turned thirty. His boss had been aiming for a local drug supplier for years. The man brought in everything from ecstasy to heroine and then distributed it to all of the local dealers, and everyone knew it. Unfortunately he could afford the best lawyers, and when the DA finally managed to make a trafficking charge stick, he had an unfortunate car accident. The case fell to Vince, who was angrier than he had been for years. He threw himself into his work, but he just couldn’t convince the judge to postpone the trial long enough to prepare an airtight case. Sure enough when the court date came the defense attorneys steam rolled him. For the first time in years he questioned the validity of the legal system. An openly guilty man walked free and no one could stop him. This time there would be no rogue prison guards to take care of the low life. There was only Vince. He struggled for days with his misgivings but eventually he came to the conclusion that letting a known criminal stay free was a greater crime than taking the law into his own hands.
That night he stormed the supplier’s compound armed with nothing but a baseball bat and a .38. While nowhere near as fit as he had been in high school, Vince was still very strong and that night his arms seemed to be fueled by his desire for justice. He knocked out two of the guards in short succession with his bat and slipped into the supplier’s den.
Jeff Yule, drug kingpin of Cleveland, awoke straight into a scene from one of his worst nightmares. Standing over him was a giant, wearing a ski mask and a suit, who happened to be pointing a revolver at his head. He was appropriately scared.
In a gravely, low voice the giant said “Tomorrow morning, you will be gone. This city will no longer tolerate the filth you spill into it’s streets.”
Then, the figure turned and ran towards the exit. Now Jeff Yule was less scared. In fact he was kind of pissed. He rolled off of his bed, grabbed the shotgun by his nightstand, and pumped off two rounds in the giant’s general direction. The first went wide, but the second clipped its leg and brought it down.
While Vince lay, in more pain than he would have ever thought possible, he regretted not pulling the trigger. It had just felt so…wrong. It was about this time that Vince realized Jeff had plenty of time to finish him off, but he hadn’t. After a couple of tries he propped himself up on his elbows to see an older gentleman standing in the most impressive pair of boots he had ever seen. And under those boots was what remained of Jeff Yule.
“You really should have killed him. The guards as well. I’d thought you had finally grown a pair, but you might not be ready yet. Not much choice though, I guess.”
The man went on to explain that he was Vince’s true father. His name was Vidar and he was the Norse god of vengeance. He gave Vince a number of presents, including a bloodhound he had been training, and explained his new responsibilities before shipping him off for some healthy paramilitary training in Norway. Three years later, Vincent has returned to the USA with a strong belief in the merits of a vigilante justice system. He decided to settle in State College where he promptly retook the bar and began working once again as an ADA.
Vince still tries to respect the legal system but he has no problem breaking the law when he thinks it’s in the interest of the greater good. He is downright merciless when it comes to criminals, but he does try to keep his punishments in line with their crimes. He still hasn’t quite accepted Vidar as his real father and maintains that he has far more in common with the mortal man who raised him. When he isn’t practicing law or fighting scum bags, he and McGruff spend their time volunteering at the local branch of Big Brothers Big Sisters.