Characteristics
Name: Andy Whippoorwill
Age: 23
Hair: Dirty Blond
Eye: Slate Gray
Base of Operations: Chicago
Known relatives: Brad 'Deathbird' Whippoorwill
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 200 lbs. (all muscle)
Personality
Glory Nights is a rude jerk. He has no patience, little self-control, and is faster with fists than his words.
Powers
Matter-Eating---Glory Nights has a black hole inside of him, allowing him to consume any matter. This is a passive, rather than an active power...he must be focusing NOT to consume all in his path. Therefore, sheer will is very important.
Density manipulation---This power only works on himself. Due to the super-dense nature of the black hole, Glory Nights can increase his mass to a near infinite point.
Abilities
Wrestling--Taught by his father, Glory Nights is a master wrestler. This includes moves from both professional wrestling and Greco-Roman.
Boxing--To round out his skills, Glory Nights practiced boxing for hours and hours each day, until he had near-mastered it.
Equipment
Brass knuckles--Yes, they are illegal in competitions. But crime doesn't care about legality.
Switchblade---Don't bring fists to a knife fight. Glory Nights is not very good with his blade as a weapon, preferring to use it more as an extension of his fist.
Whistle---Passed down from his father, this whistle can only be used by those in the Whippoorwill family...it is rumored to contain all the souls stolen away by whippoorwills. There are several powerful souls that can be channeled.
Brad Whippoorwill
Brad Whippoorwill, Andy's father, was born Hubert Whippoorwill. His family was from Dunwich, a small village in New England. Totally ignoring his family's history of being librarians, farmers, or writers, Brad became a professional wrestler, going by the name of Deathbird. He was not the kind of man to win simply because he was scheduled to do so, he knew how to fight. As soon as he had enough money, he moved to Chicago, away from the small town he abhorred. He only took one suitcase. In this were his clothes, and a whistle. This whistle was an heirloom of the Whippoorwill family. In the small town of Dunwich, whippoorwills were supposed to eat souls...if they chirped after a death, they were celebrating. Legend also had it that these souls were trapped in the whistle the Whippoorwill family possessed. The most famous of these souls was perhaps Lavinia Whateley...mother of Wilbur Whately and his monstrous brother.
At some point, Brad had a son. It was his, DNA tests confirmed it, but he sure didn't know who the mother was. Brad's life was a string of bad romances, bloody noses and broken bones. But one thing Brad turned out to be was a good father...considering anyway. Brad, not really knowing what to do with a kid, took him to all his matches, taught him everything he knew, and then promptly expired due to a punctured lung that had gone untreated. A life well lived, more or less.
A Legacy
Andy Whippoorwill was the son of wrestling legend Brad Whippoorwill. He worshiped his father. As an infant, he would be kept in the wings of the matches by Brad's trainers. They weren't particularly happy to have to watch a kid, but it was that or have Brad put him on the ring edge again...
As soon as Andy could walk, Brad let him watch the matches. Andy's first word was 'knockout'. Well, actually it was something a little more rude, but Brad wasn't going to remind Andy of that. Shortly after that, Brad began to teach Andy how to wrestle...he always let Andy win of course. Until he was older. Then the training became genuine. Andy had trouble explaining to people at school that he was not being abused by his father. But since he was always being shuttled around, most people didn't notice him anyway.
As a result of this total immersion, Andy knew as much as his father by the time he was ten. He wanted to be just like him when he was older. He wanted his father to cheer from the sidelines while the new Deathbird pinned his opponent.
It was a nasty fight. Brad managed to win, but barely. He was a broken, bloody mess by the time he limped home with Andy. He refused to see the doctors, saying he would just shake it off. He didn't. He didn't let Andy see, but he was coughing blood. But the one thing he had really taken with him from Dunwich was a mistrust of doctors. Apparently some guy named 'Herbert West', the trusted family physician, had stolen Brad's grandfather's body after purposefully letting him die. So, after several weeks of agonizing pain, Brad died of a punctured lung. On his deathbed he handed Andy the whistle. He was in too much pain to speak.
Andy was inconsolable. He was shipped over to Dunwich to live with his aunt. Dunwich was much too quaint for his tastes. All the people were garrisoned in their homes. Andy took out some of his anger by boxing. But he hated his life. He hated his aunt. He hated Dunwich. He hated the whippoorwills that were constantly chirping away. He couldn't wait until he was eighteen, and could leave this backwater dump.
It was more dangerous for Andy to be in Dunwich than anyone could have imagined. Wilbur Whateley's descendant's had been waiting for a chance to take revenge on the Whippoorwill family...and Andy seemed to be chance walking.
One night, the Harvest Moon, Andy was walking home. He was bored, not paying much attention to his surroundings. He didn't see his assailants. One of them bound his arms to his side with a tentacle, extruding from his stomach. They dragged him to the hill, where several stones indicated an alter of some sort used to stand there. Then, one of them opened an old book he was carrying, bound in some sort of leather. He began to chant. His brethren danced around gleefully, except for the one holding Andy down. "Iä! Iä! Yog-Sothoth! Great-Grandfather Yog-Sothoth! Hear our prayer! Smite him, he whose descendants killed you sons! Iä!"
And Yog-Sothoth, keeper of the gateways heard their prayer. Loudly and clearly. And he had an agonizing end planned for Andy. His
stomach and ribs began to fall inwards, and his eyes bulged. Yog-Sothoth had placed a black hole inside of Andy's body....but was keeping it from consuming him all at once. The Whateley's yelled and chanted, revving themselves up into a trancelike state. One of them walked to Andy, and extended a long, thorny tongue into his eye. He devoured the blood avidly, tentacles waving .
Andy sobbed, tears mingling with the blood on his face. He was going to die. Then the Whateley's froze, and fled, leaving Andy lying on the ground. He didn't remember being carried home. He didn't remember much for the next few days. Only the persistent sound of Whippoorwills filled his dreams...
When Andy awoke, he found his aunt standing over him. She was singing softly, her voice matching the sound of the whippoorwills. She seemed feathered...but Andy passed out again, and passed off the vision as a mere hallucination.
Eventually, Andy regained consciousness for good. He was not going to be given a chance to relax yet. He had to learn about his family, and his assailants.
After Wilbur Whateley's brother died, whippoorwills tried to eat his soul...but it was too toxic, too evil for them. They were killed...all but one, which took human form to escape the pain, inhabiting the body of one whose soul had been eaten. His family possessed the magic of the whippoorwills. That was what his aunt was using now to keep Andy alive. That was what had made the Whateleys flee.
And Andy would die unless he learned the art of control...how to keep the black hole inside of him from eating him. He knew how to control his body...how to duck and weave, tackle and punch...but he had no mental discipline.
His aunt never seemed to sleep. She was constantly there, chanting or teaching him mental discipline. And after months and months of work, non-stop, for Andy would not be able to go anywhere without being consumed. But he survived. And he learned. And then, his grandmother offered to him the secrets of the whippoorwills. But Andy refused. He did not want to be a mage in Dunwich, constantly warring against the Whateleys. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps. But he couldn't with his single eye. Not in his mind. So he would do the next best thing...he'd take his fight to the world, take down the criminals and the delinquents, not as the new Deathbird...but as Glory Nights. Those nights when his father would pin the opponent, those nights when Andy would be deliriously happy.
So he left Dunwich behind. He left his aunt, the Whippoorwills an the Whateleys. And he headed out into the world. Maybe he'll succeed. Maybe he'll die a horrible death. Only time will tell.
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