De-Cyphering Douglas Aaron Ramsey, in his own words
I was born in a lowly station in life, a small non-descript upstate New York village called New Salem in Westchester County, to two loving and devoted parents who were not blessed with being Homo Superior.
My life could have been a simple one, a life of content servitude to my genetic superiors, had the Universe a different plan for me.
My first word was spoken at only two weeks of age. Soon after, my vocabulary increased expotentially, each new word triggering a cascade of even more verbosity.
By the time most kids my age were finally speaking simple coherant sentences, I was reading and writing them, prolifically, my thoughts displayed clear and concise. My parents were both pleased and horrified at the same time. I could even sense their uneasiness at that young age. I don't think they knew exactly what to do with me, or about me. I wasn't normal, except in appearance. Think that kid in The Sixth Sense.
I was then tested, for both mutation and genius, after my parents discovered me in the family den, watching untranslated anime and I wasn't even aware it wasn't in English, or that I had been replying to their initial questions in perfect Japanese. It was quite a shock to them, and to me, I must admit.
I tested positive. Scored on both counts, I was told, but just barely.
"More human than not", the tester sneered, revealing the news. Apparently, because I was not able to physically transform into a thirty foot superstrong giant with nuclear disintegration beams emanating from my hands, I was somehow 'less' a mutant.
However, my language and comprehension skills were off the chart, regardless of any other test score. This was enough to bring the attention of the growing mutant intelligence community. I certainly could not be classified as a walking weapon of mass destruction, but smarter heads than that tester recognized my value in other capacities.
Recruited for a 'private school', to better gauge and assess my abilities and usefulness to the King and Empire's special needs, I was shipped away to the Massachusetts Academy. At least, this is what my Homo Inferior parents were told, as I was taken from them. In truth, although I was only 10 years old at the time, I was actually going into Special Operations Mutant Education Program, a school for the tactically gifted, sort of a cadet training camp for future SHIELD officers, and the like. I was the second youngest present, beaten for the record by some odd looking kid who I only knew by his nickname, "Leech". To this day, I haven't figured out if Leech was there because of his skill and value, or to keep him out of the hands of our enemies.
Thus, SHIELD got a sweet deal. Aspiring young enthusiastic prolific child as a special agent... perfect for translation, encryption... and interrogation. Imagine that, being faced by a 10 year old boy, asking you questions in your native tongue with a flawless accent.
If I had any sort of means to be able to change my appearance from blonde haired and blue eyed all-American kid? I could have been the perfect spy.
Back then, I was naive and eager... full of illusions of this perfect and exciting fantasy life. Everyone wanted me to work on their mission, monitoring communications. I was treated like the superstar I always wanted to be. I would show them. Do it better. Faster. Harder. I'd break every code, and encrypt better than any machine ever could. I was unstoppable, with a desire to climb to the top.
I began to create my own languages, codes. Apparently, I had a much better gift when I talked to myself, because my computer networks transferred information flawlessly. It was during my 12th year that I began to work on something I later would name WARLOCk. It was a computer program. Basis behind it was a search engine. I talked to the computer, telling it how to make sense of all the patterns. I taught it to be like me, think like me.
I wanted a friend that I could completely trust. A secret place away from the mindbenders I could go.
I disguised my work for this behind the illusion of video games and simulations. Truth was, I was enjoying the benefit of getting more time to myself by creating computer programs that analyzed patterns by mimicking my mutant power to some lessor degree. I was enjoying the wealth I inherited as the lad who shaped the Internet and Personal Computing fields.
My mutation appears to be über geek nerd brain.
Yes, I didn't have a physical mutation. I could pass for mere human. Just like most telepaths and empaths and telekinetics. A secret weapon, just like them, I was. Hidden. It was just frustrating that I couldn't read minds like they could and save me time with communing.
How silly of me to even be jealous, for the Universe was going to surprise me one more time.
The physical training side of my regimen was beginning to affect me as well. I was beginning to be more aware of the unconscious language that organisms were emanating. My instructors applauded my quick grasp of the elements of self-defense, but in truth, I doubted that my discovery of my passive mutant power transformed me into the jock I never was before.
No, it was the patterns. Each person carried their own dialect, but the basics of structure were consistent. The shift of weight. The narrowing of eyes. The movement of tension sliding from one part of the body to another.
All were 'tells'.
I could read their body language, and anticipate what they would do next. I became enticed with the possibilities. If I could predict a movement just before it happened, what else could I gleam from a person's stance, flutter of eyelids, tilt of head, motion of body?
At this point in my life, I became quickly interested in card games. Poker, specifically. Time to hone this apparent side effect of my mutant brain. Soon, I found I was no longer invited to games, nor allowed to bet on games in casinos, due to my uncanny knack of knowing when one was bluffing. Don't think my superiors did not notice this happening. Far from it.
It didn't matter. The result was that I figured out a new language to translate, one that was much more valuable to me.
I could read 'intent'.
I became conscious of the dicotomy of life.
Now I was teamed more with encryption and interrogation tasks. Observe and assist. Remotely watching interviews, and feeding questions to an appropriately picked mouthpiece, specifically with the intent to provoke them into revealing truth. I enjoyed teaming up with the telepaths and empaths for these exercises. Some may have had strong psychic shields in place, making it impossible for the headpolice to get through... but they couldn't hide from me.
Talk about this... mention that... provoking them... its a lie... its the truth... he got defensive about this... keeping the telepaths on target... hammering away... until the target would slip.
W1N!I was the precise locksmith for the human mind the telepaths needed.
It was during my 4th Tour alongside the great and powerful Magneto, that a plot to kill our beloved monarch came to light. The forces of SHIELD had put down an insurrection at the hands of the Friends of Humanity, led by a young Samuel Guthrie. It was a great victory, returning the lands to Magnus' rightful rule, and the King wanted to greet his people there, and heal the wounds of war. Scott Summers was in charge of the base detail.
There was an ambush planned, however. It had been a trap.
We all were about to discover firsthand who the Friends of Humanity were.
A human wave of plastic armored Guardsmen came sweeping in at us, laying down a heavy blanketing of the area.
They were no match for the security detail, regardless of any new designs. One was left alive.
The interogation was on the spot.
SHIELD began with a standard interogator, with my observation. Soon, however, the telepath was brought in when no useful information was going to be voluntarily supplied.
Jamail Karami was to gather information from the survivor about force sizes, other members of the cell, any other plots and plans. The plan was to make him tell all.
The man maintained his story. They were the last of the cell. The last resistance. Magneto had won.
The Arab confirmed what the terrorist was saying, I observed a short distance away. And yet, when both men spoke, I noticed... the human terrorist was far more relaxed than he should have been, bound at the feet of a man who very nearly singlehandedly carved a huge swath across the face of the planet, claiming it for his and his kind. The telepath was far more agitated, anticipation seeming to ooze from him... both in sharp contrast to the verbal scene they were enacting. Something... was wrong with this. The two were interacting... as if... they had practiced this.
"He's lying..." I stammered, amazed at the accusation he was about to make... "They- they BOTH are!"
The human literally erupted with green irradiated fire filling his muscles with power and mass, rage at being exposed before he was ready coursing through him.
My brain spontaneously ignited on the astral plane. Blind hot white searing pain as my brain ground to a halt. It happened to everyone else nearby, too.
Then... then it was suddenly over as quickly as it had begun.
The telepath stood, frozen, his face contorted in pain and fear. Magneto stood, arm extended, electromagnetic auras dancing chromatically in swirling patterns around the head of the telepath.
It is hard to establish what reached this gamma created abomination first; Summers' optic beams, or "Cannonball" Guthrie. The result was the same, regardless. The assassin was removed to a safe distance from our King, and was dispatched not long after.
The Friends of Humanity was revealed. A circle of telepaths and a few other mutants, sympathizing with the humans, and wanting to dethrone King Magnus for their so-called Shadow King.
My newest talent to offer the Crown was even more than Magneto had hoped for. A defense against the telepathic mutants who might seize power uncontested for themselves.
An Inquisition followed. All telepaths found to be... compromised... were either dispatched, or neutralized. Any mutant human sympathizer was either erased or contained.
I was placed in charge of the Intellegence community. Guthrie rose quickly in the ranks to take the reins of SHIELD. Summers was... re-educated... when it was found that he had strong ties to the telepathic community.
The rest, they say, is a matter of history.
Problem is, people make mistakes.
I know I have. If she can only forgive me, what I have done to her. But she can never forgive, for she will never remember.
My Hounds promised me that.
