xxxxxLincoln Idaho is the son of Marie and David Idaho in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. His father David was an avid motorcyclist and mechanic, operating his own repair shop as a way to bring in money. However, David was involved in a terrible, fatal motorcycle accident when Lincoln was a child. It's scarred him for life...and left Marie to take care of the young boy by herself. His mother worked with deaf children and after David's death, became a translator (for ASL) and often translated for events to help pay the bills.
While kindhearted, Lincoln often proved too much so. He could never stand bullies and often reacted with protective violence towards individuals who dared try to harm another. He was looked up to by other children his age and often had a popularity to him. Yet...when told he had to stop the violence - protective as it may be - from his mother, Lincoln put his efforts into other pursuits...most notably, music. Drumming came naturally to him, a way to get out anger and violent tendencies. What's more, he was quite good at it.
And then...when Lincoln endured puberty, his X-gene had awakened. Electricity sparked between his fingertips. His entire neighborhood lost power...and he glowed with a powerful energy. He could control electricity. He could absorb electrical sources for greater power. His mother had found out and immediately attempted to hide him. Keep him out of trouble...keep him from using his abilities.
But alas, Lincoln was quite willing to practice his abilities in secret. Worse still, his mother didn't know how to raise a mutant child who could short out the house by touching an outlet. She didn't have the money to try and search for a special place that could take him. So she put her faith where she felt she was forced to: the Canadian government. A representative came, promising to take him far away where he can learn to live with his abilities, control them, and be reintroduced to society. After a tearful goodbye and a promise to reunite, Lincoln was sent away.
But they had no intention of rehabilitating Lincoln. They wanted the next Weapon...and they found one. They sent him right into the open arms of the Weapon Plus program. Every day was torture. Physical. Mental. Emotional. They wanted another soldier. They trained him relentlessly, tortured him to bring out an evolutionary response to heighten his abilities..toyed with his memories to make him loyal.
All to make him Weapon XI.
And year by year, it became worse. They taught him how to fight. How to break. Wound. How to kill in equal measure. They kept him in large water sources in a cage to train his body to yield to them, short-circuiting him over and over again, but not so much to kill him.
They thought they finally created a perfect weapon. But instead...they created yet another enemy. He remembered. He remembered his mother. His home. His origins. His promise to see her again. He saw the other mutants they had as part of this Project...and knew enough was enough.
These scientists, these operatives...they always make a mistake. Get too complacent. He had watched. He had waited for his time to strike. Waited for one of them to forget to flip a switch, forget to isolate him. Forget.
/Forget/. Finally...two of the guards thought they were dangerous. They didn't put the 'mutie' back in the water. He muffled something against the cold metal that bound him. They ungagged him and prepared for transit, so they can put him back in the chair. But these were fools, not skilled fighters. Grunts. As soon as they let him out and beat him down with a nightstick, Lincoln quickly rose to his feet and dispatched of both of them - much to his own chagrin, still breathing. Better than they deserved.
It was his /chance!/.
This facility had many guards, but more than that, there were many mutants here who could be helped. He took keycards from both guards and he started running. As he ran, he drew power from the electrical sources in this place, his eyes practically glowing with power as he defeated other guards, but he wasn't fast enough to stop bullets. "Run! Go!" He told mutants as he released them from their containment cells.
Out of thirty...he was able to save maybe fifteen. Better than none. Better than nothing. He fled. He told the mutants to keep running and he made their exit secure with powerful electric blasts.
Then he ran.
He immediately fled for home, finding and stealing clothes to fit him, and he hoped to find his mother...only to find his home burned to the ground.
No loose ends.
His mother was buried some years ago. And on her grave, instead of swearing revenge against the Weapon Plus program, he instead swore to her that he would not be what they tried to make him be. That he'll find his answers one way or another. That he'll use his abilities to help people...what he always wished to do to begin with.
The world had to change. This couldn't'...this wasn't right. Instead of hatred for humanity, Lincoln wanted to bring peace. So...he started using his powers to help people, in accordance to his vow to his mother.
and so it is to this day that a vigilante was born.
But he had to make money. He had to be able to live. A job was necessary where people didn't ask questions. Where people didn't snoop too much. He managed to get work as a bike courier, delivering packages and mail. It was good work, kept him under the radar. Helped teach him control by not electrocuting the bike.
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