- Age. 25.
Birthday. December 25th.
Species. Homo superior.
Occupation. Law Student.
Location. New Haven, Connecticut.
- Mother. Kathryn Worthington.
Father. Warren Worthington II.
Others. Sarah Worthington.
- Mutation. Flight. War's mutation is very distinctly and immediately visible. Protruding from high on his back in a sweeping arch are two enormous, aerodynamic wings which fan out to six feet three inches, his ordinary height. His bones are hollow and thus more fragile than a typical human's, and his cardiocasvular system is designed to pull as much oxygen from the air as possible. Due to this, he can sometimes become disoriented on the ground due to oxygen saturation. His mutation is very much 'aesthetic.' He is not strong, or fast, contributing to the illusion that he is vapid and shallow.
- Played by Alex Pettyfer. This face claim is unshared.
Alignment. Lawful Good.
Anything Else? Everyone knows the name Worthington. It's right there in the fine print. Worth.
The elder Worthington was a trust fund baby who got into Yale on family alone, but it spat him out with a business degree and he was a people person, so he was easily able to forge the connections necessary to sustain Worthington Industries. He had two children, Sarah and Warren (the third, soak that in), and provided them with the life of luxury he himself was accustomed to.
Resultingly, most of Warren's life is comprised of his image. What people think of him. What people assume about him. Some of it is true, but a lot of it is pure fantasy. There's a certain amount of esteem and reputation involved in being as literally wealthy as his kin. Little boxes made of ticky tacky and they all look just the same, he'll sing to you if you let him.
He never did fit. Shame is the name of the game. Warren defied his father in more ways than being a mutant, when he was caught making out with Cameron Hodge under the bleachers at Phillips Academy. Cover it all up, don't let it get out. Paste on a smile and go to prom with Candy. Don't cuss or I'll wash your mouth out with soap. Yeah, dad never really followed through on that threat. There's not enough soap in the world, and Warren's got a mouth that'd make a sailor blush.
Ride a full scholarship to Yale just like good old dad, except he actually did have smarts behind that razor smile, so he can delude himself into thinking he's earned his degree. Yeah it's poli-sci, shut up. Of course, the fact that he was a mutant absolutely didn't help things.
These massive wings erupt out of him during puberty, right? Shedding and scaly and bloody and broken. Filthy, mangy little things. There's blood feathers in there, got to be, because he rips one out and nearly fucking bleeds to death. You try living with it. Go to the vet and get some hemostat and keep that by your bedside table and wrangle a system of belts and pulleys to keep them flat and trapped against your back under your shirt. War's good enough at it that they barely show.
It's confining and it hurts and they're trapped. Trapped against himself, oh the tales we weave.
Ironic, though, because his father is friends with the Xaviers long before Warren's Little Problem rears its ugly head. He meets Charles and nearly jumps out of his skin when the man sends a thought into his flipping head. Yeah, you calm down, pal. Xavier's good people. He's got horses, and War loves horses, so he visits the mansion once in a while to make sure the help hasn't outright killed them all.
He meets Scott Summers and is enamored of him, poor guy. He gets a chuckle out of the way his glasses nearly pop off of his head. He's enamored of Jean, too, but that's a little more complicated. She's his friend's girl. No way, jose. Off limits. What do you get the guy who has everything? Scott has a keen mind, and that's what's always drawn him in. Just like Cameron. Warren abhors a vacuum. He's always filling it with things. People. Flashy and shiny Rubik's cubes to manipulate in his hands.
He grows into himself. Decides screw it with the goddamn company and takes the LSATs instead. Blow me in a dark alley, dad. He grows into his wings, too. They're no longer scraggly wisps. Now when he frees them they extend with a whoosh of air, immense and striking and powerful. They're the strongest part of him. He scares the shit out of the normies and dazzles his own kind.
Good. Boxes are for cowards.