Robert Daloa

Hot-Tempered Speedster of the HGO

23

Male

He/him

"dah-low-ah"

5'10"

150 lbs.

Baggy clothes, distressed jeans

Robert's hair makes him stick out like a sore thumb. The hair on his left is buzzed short, while the right is done up in tall spikes running down from his scalp to his ear, like a mohawk turned sideways. All the hair products he puts in has left it crazy dry, but it gets him the attention and intimidation factor he wants among all the weird looks. Thick eyebrows and thin lips exaggerate most of his expressions, and his slender, flexible build makes his speed and endurance apparent as well. Two small scars, one on his left cheek and another under the right side of his lips, act as proof of his history of brawling.

Pizza, action movies, snakes

Dogs, kids, being blamed for just about anything (whether or not he did it)

Driving everyone away, doctors

Rock collecting, urban parkour, boxing, basketball

Asexual

Robert is hotheaded and violent, with a mouth to back it up. With how easy it is to anger him, he has a long history of street brawling. He's loyal to a fault, however, always sticking by his friends, and he'll eventually calm down once he gets to know someone enough. Physical activity helps work out his extra energy and brings out his perceptive side: though he isn't good at judging people, he's great at seeing the big picture and makes an excellent strategist.

Shuriken

Robert's interest in free running and parkour serve him well in combat. He uses his environment to his greatest advantage, jumping from perch to perch all while hurling his shuriken. Even in close quarters, dodging comes second nature to him, and he can throw one hell of a punch.

Assistant rock climbing instructor

Robert was adopted by Alex Relson at a young age, and while he initially rebelled against being cooped up in such a large family, these days he appreciates the structure the Hallowed Gladiator Organization gives to his life.

Alticurus (no social media)

"Honestly man... Frank's paintings. That first one I ever saw spoke to me like nothing else. It had all this red and black and shit, all these lines tripping over each other, smashing into each other... I ain't ever seen anything like it. It got me thinking that maybe there was something constructive I could be doing with my life, y'know? Like, if I'm gonna be pissed, I can at least have a direction. I got into all kinds of shit I never would've thought of after that."

"Sometimes I gotta just punch something. I got this huge punching bag in my basement, that thing can take a beating like nothin' else. A run around the city does it sometimes too, but if I trip or some shit when I'm already pissed off, that gets me feeling WAY worse."

"Yeah, totally. Just makes sense to me that some people are luckier than others."

"I would lose my SHIT. They'd be unconscious in minutes."

"Man, where do I start? Loud people, quiet people, someone breaking my stuff, people getting in my face... The other day, I was at the park and there was this family with like three bratty little kids, running around and tearing everything up, and their parents didn't do jack shit to stop 'em. I was two seconds from screaming my head off at them."

"Ugh... I hope not. I know I get out of control sometimes, but if I killed someone, even by accident... I don't know what I would do. We came pretty close in some of those Soul Guardian battles but I never went all the way with it."

" 'Punk,' I guess."

"If someone gave me something for my rock collection, that'd be cool. Like a crystal with really rare magic in it or some shit."

"I dunno, man, all kinds of shit. Stupid shit people said to me, stupid shit Frank said about himself, big life shit I only ever think about when I'm tryin' to sleep..."