Dillon Andrew Gallagher

[Dillon Gallagher]

DILLON ANDREW GALLAGHER
TWENTY-FIVE//MALE//STRAIGHT//BONE MANIPULATION AND HEALING FACTOR//LOCAL-BARTENDER//AARON PAUL

POWER INFO:

Bone Manipulation: Bone manipulation refers to the ability/potential to alter the density and shape of one's bones or the bones of another person through skin to skin contact or will. In Dillon's case, he is only able to alter his own bones. In doing so, Dillon is able to make his bones denser and protrude from his body (normally his arms and hands) in the form of spikes which he then can shoot at a target (usually no more than 20 feet away) 

Healing Factor: This ability refers to being able to regenerate tissues, organs, bones, and or limiting or stopping aging in its tracks. In Dillon's case, he is able to regrow damaged tissues that form when he projects his bones outside of the body or are damaged by an outside force. It also eases his pain when the bones exit the skin and allows the skin to grow around the protrusion to keep out debris.

Limitations/Side Effects: Due to growing/reforming bones, Dillon has to drink milk and take supplements far more than the average human rate on a regular basis to keep the levels of calcium in his body in check.

His spikes can only shoot a distance of about twenty feet on a good day. More often than not he can only get up to ten feet or so.

His healing is unable to heal burns more so above the 2nd degree, though those of 2nd degree nature cause scaring that is permanent.

Nervous system tissues are not able to heal if damage is done.

Skin that has been broken by his bones heals faster than places that don't receive damage on a regular basis.

Other tissues and organs heal at a much slower rate than his skin. Where his skin can heal almost instantaneously in most places, any internal damage may take a day or two, even more depending on how severe the damage is.

The holding room was no different than the several others he had seen over the years. A plastic table and three chairs sat in the middle of the room, two chairs to one side while the lone survivor sat on the other side along with a camera perched to face between the two chairs and to the man that sat in the lone one on the other side.. An ashtray was placed neatly to the left on the table while two white mugs of coffee were laid out to the right. The walls screamed white, causing the brown haired man in the lone chair to rub his eyes a few times, hoping that they would adjust soon.

A few moments passed before the door opened up and in walked a man in his late forties, probably some hot shot back in the day that paid his dues and was on his way to retirement. The manila folder in his hand hand was bulging with paperwork, and as he placed it upon the plastic table, the lone man couldn't help but see a picture of himself paper clipped to the front staring back at him. A smile cracked out upon his lips as the Federal Agent took his place. "Case number 1150193. Questioning taking place at Kalispell Police Department, Montana." The man spoke, "Federal Agent Hall overseeing the case today. Please state your name for the camera." He spoke, taking the folder and opening it up. "Dillon Andrew Gallagher." The man, whom looked half the agent's age spoke, eyes centered upon the camera. "Alright. Let's get to it shall we?"

"So they tell me you are quite the elusive one huh?" The agent spoke, smacking his lips before looking up from the file and at Dillon. "Yeah....I guess." He admitted.  "Well let's see here...." Hands worked at the folder, spreading its contents upon the table. "It says here you were born in New Hampshire. Is that correct?" Dillon rolled his eyes slightly. "Yeah it is." He spoke, setting his hands, fingers folded together, upon the table. "Alright....and I assume you are the son of one Marie and Oliver Gallagher?" The man pressed on. Growing impatient, the kid huffed. "Obviously, or else my ass wouldn't be here now would it? Now what's all this about. I have a shift starting in thirty-minutes." 


"Well this is about the incident in Reno. See, it seems someone or well a few different someones decided to cut into a vault at one Palace Palace casino. Now I'll hand it to you, it wasn't no big name one. Some little mom and pop ordeal, but still managing to carry quite a load out. An estimated 1.2 Million was stolen in total from the dive. Any ideas how that happened?" Dillon sat for a moment, looking the man dead in the eyes before speaking. "Enlighten me." "Well it seemed someone was able to cut straight through the steel, almost as if they dragged an industrial torch into the place and sliced through it like butter. But, that is not why you are here. This-" And with that the Agent held up a little baggy with a piece of bone no longer than an average man's finger but almost as wide as baseball bat with a sharp point at the end inside it. "-This is why you are here." Dillon's heart dropped at the sight, but his face still held the same expression. "How does that pertain to me?"

The agent didn't answer that, but decided to dance around the question.

"It seems here you have a pretty memorable past. It shows here you were born with Lobstein Syndrome better known as fragile bones. I bet that was rough." The agent began. "It was." "Well with numerous visits to the hospital, practically living there until you were five, I'd say so. At least you got over it though. Then some more bad news struck. Your mother was diagnosed with cancer. Ovarian to be specific. She died when you were eight, right?" "Correct." "That must have been just throwing gasoline on the fire huh? After that it seemed your dad manage between two jobs and about a case and a half of Miller Light every night to take care of you, that was until you were eleven and he decided to toss you down the stairs." "Yeah. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed." "Hell, I'd say he wasn't even close to being dull!" He said brilliantly, moving the objects in the folder to withdraw the incident report.  "Haha. Life moved on though. You were sent to live with your Aunt and Uncle in Virginia for a bit...." Again some more shifts of paper and out popped a picture of his Aunt and Uncle with their little beach house he stayed at. "You had a problem with authority though, getting into several fights in the classroom and even getting into some vandalizing and theft, huh? It only makes since that only  a year later you were suddenly shipped halfway across the United States to Montana of all places. Your aunt said your disease came back, rebounded and began eating away at your bones. Montant was the only place with viable treatment. I see you are just on supplements now though, that's good." The man paused for a brief moment. "You attended Bellefonte Academy from the age of thirteen to eighteen, graduating with honors it says. Wow. I bet that cost a pretty penny right there." Dillon sighed, letting his hands unfold and slide off the table melodramatically before leaning in a bit."Look if there is something more important than talking about my education, can we get to it now for Christ's sake?" The agent rose an eyebrow. "Oh but this is all important. Still if you insist...it seems you disappeared for a bit until nineteen. Your first official arrest. Busted for boosting a car in a Save-A-Lot parking lot in New Mexico. Wow, very smart kid." Dillon gave a nod in agreement before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a cigarette and lighter. Placing the stick between his lips, he clicked the lighter and lit the end, watching as a trail of smoke began to appear from the end. "A brief stint in jail and a fine later you were back out, roaming the world. It didn't take long though before you were picked up again, this time getting an assault charge. Impressive. A month in jail and then once again you were free but this time you disappeared again, but then something happened. A year later you were picked up for Attempted Robbery but here is the funny thing, no one could pin it on you. " "Yeah I recall it." He halfway admitted, flicking some of his ashes into the container on the table. "I got picked up driving close to the place. They took me in, questioned me and let me go all in one night." "Yeah. You got lucky. Camera's were out of order and the only reason you were caught was because someone was dumb enough to forget about the silent alarm. Now how exactly you got out of -" "I was never in there. Like it says, I happened to be like, driving by." "Anyways, after that incident time moved on and you vanished. Maybe you got smart, thought to move on with your life, make a good name for yourself, something your mother would be proud of, but then Reno came along. Being a casino and all the case went straight to us, and I got evidence in and there was the object in the bag. Then I remembered a few other cases I had seen, a few that had other similar objects and the same marks that were left on the vault from a welder on different surfaces...gates, doors. The jobs all varied, most being warehouses and storage units of the rich and richer, still there were a few banks here and there. I came in on those, but through out each one the markings and the fragments still remained the same." The agent tapped a bit on the plastic evidence baggy. "So I began to wonder. I wondered if maybe, just maybe there was some sort of clue to all this, and then your name arose from the grave, popping out in different cases here and there. Never nothing more than just a whisper, but heard none the less. So tell me. How did you do it?" "Do what exactly." The man spoke, flinging smoke into the air from his lungs. "Get into the vault." "I didn't get-" "Bullshit! I know you did it, there are just way to many factors in play. Did you use a crew? A torch? Who took care of the two security guards they found with multiple stab wounds caused by a weapon no one has ever seen before? Tell me." "I am telling you! I wasn't there. Reno is the last place on Earth I'd go alright? I wised up after the questioning in Tennessee. I took my stuff, built up my cash, and settled down somewhere nice. I lost and won several jobs before I finally decided to move back to my real home right here. Now.  If I'm not under arrest, I'd like to go, because my shift started ten minutes ago and I can't screw this up." "You're not under arrest." "Could you state that for the camera." "Dillon Gallagher is not under arrest." "Thank you." 

With that, Dillon went to his feet, pulling the military style jacket that sat upon the back of the chair off it and back over his shoulders. Agent Hall watched in what Dillon would have called misery, his face lacking any kind of emotion from what he could see. "Take it easy." The brown haired guy spoke as he walked around the table, but as he opened the door the agent spoke once more. "You might be lucky, kid. But, one of these days you are gonna slip and fall and when you do I will be right there to make sure you stay down." A smirk drew over his face as he chuckled lightly at the threat. "I look forward to it." He spoke, letting the halfway smoked cigarette drop to the floor. "Bitch." And with that he left the office, making his way down the hall and out the front door in to the atmosphere that was Kalispell. He was going to need to make a phone call, as bad as didn't want to, it was the least he could do for an old friend.

The diner wasn't packed, though then again if you were passing by it in a car you might miss it thanks to it's not so appealing structure. Dillon walked in, ordered a cup of coffee, then slipped around the back side to where the payphone was. Taking the phone in hand, he deposited four quarters into the machine before starting to dial. The familiar mechanical ring that he had heard numerous times since being able to use a phone took over his ears, ringing then pausing for a split second, repeating the process. "Come on..." He breathed out before the machine clicked over. "Hey! We're the Edwards!" A man and his wife called out into the recording, "Sorry we can't reach the phone right now. Leave a message and we will get back to you." The woman took over the rest before a beep was heard. "Uh yeah, Milo it's me. Look-" Dillon was cut off as the man picked up the other line. "What do you want." He spoke, near hatefully. "I'm giving you a heads up. They are digging into the Reno incident a bit further, they pulled me in today but they don't have anything, just assumptions." He explained, "Still, I figured this was what I owed you. Nothing more." "I appreciate it." Milo spoke back, his tone easing a bit. "You know we could still use you. Things are going a different direction, but" But there was no buts, Dillon didn't need it. "I'm out alright. I told you that. After what happened to..." He paused, trying not to recall the image, "To Chase....I can't. Not again, man." And before another word could be said, the man dropped the phone back on the payphone hook before going back to his vinyl booth and taking a sip of his coffee.

SAMPLE: -hand wave- This isn't the sample you are looking for. -hand wave- He is accepted
USERNAME: Lover, but I guess Jeremy will do.
AGE GROUP: Twenty- uno
EXPERIENCE: Long enough.

[Dillon Gallagher]

Le Finished

[Mel *]

If I toss you a bone, will you fetch it?
You know what to do!