Sandor "The Rainmaker"

Most know him as The Rainmaker, the ruthless leader of the mafia in Considine who deal in flesh and vices. To all but those very high up in his organization The Rainmaker is a mysterious figure whose orders and actions seem irrational, but any who would oppose him do not try for he is greatly feared for his powers. It is said that anywhere else in the world your blood is that which gives you life, but in Considine your blood serves him.

Childhood
Sandor suffers from amnesia, he can't remember anything before what appeared to him to be the age of 18. His earliest memory is of waking up in a pile of trash in some back alley gutter in Considine, with no idea of how he had gotten there, who he was, or even his own name. The second earliest memory he has isn't even of an event, instead it's more of an emotion. He felt hate. He hated himself, hated what he could do, hated his own body, and hated the world around him for being so ugly.

He has the ability to manipulate the blood that ran through people's veins. He discovered this ability pretty quickly after he had gotten into an argument with the closest thing to a friend he had over something so irrelevant that even now he cannot recall what it was. During this foolish argument he got so heated that in his anger he lashed out at him pulling the blood out of his body through every orifice he had. Astonished at his power he continued to hone it over the rest of his life into something he could control, but he hated this power that could only do things that would create more hate in himself and others.

He has scars that cover his body, including a long line down his spine. Many of these cuts couldn't be mistaken for anything else but suicide attempts on his wrists, or purposeful almost medical-like incisions. They represent to him his past, the one that he cannot recall, the one that turned him into a stray creature with powers that he did not understand. His ignorance of their source mirrors his ignorance of his own source, and he finds them ugly and was ashamed of them. He does all he can to wear clothes that hide his arms and upper body so that they never can be seen, or can see the light of day.

He hates the pain he's been made to endure, the pain of ignorance, the pain of irrelevance. He hates that he was gifted an ability by the gods or by fate or by whatever to have this ability that could only be used to cause pain. An ability that helped him survive, but he didn't know to what end.

Rise of The Rainmaker
The town he grew up in, Considine, was pretty much completely run by the mob. This mob did a bunch of low-class stuff, but their main source of income was a brothel business that they pressed helpless women, and all-too often girls into 'employment'. These girls made living on the streets seem not all that bad. Their owners however, this mob, lived high while others lived in squalor. He sort of looked up to these guys, they knew what they wanted and took it, not caring the cost others payed with their lives. His whole life he hated that there were those who had, and those who didn't – to be even more clear, he hated that he wasn't one of the former. Around the age of seemed to him to be 25 he realized something he didn't have to live on the street anymore, he realized he could use his powers to live like these guys too. All these guys did was take from others to give to themselves, why couldn't he treat them in kind?

Over a few months he watched the mob closely, learned their movements and goings-on. All the while he focused his abilities, and honed them into something he could really use. It was a overcast day, when he took control. He was happy it was overcast, for some reason rainy days were always good days for him. He walked through the mob's headquarters and worked his way through the building closer and closer to the don's office. Barely anyone noticed him, just another piece of trash blowing through the building. Well they were about to notice him big time, everyone was. When he got close enough to the office to be stopped, he started killing everyone he came across, trying little to spare innocence that happened to be in his way. He turned the very blood in their veins against them, ripping people apart and making it rain blood. It took all of 15 minutes to be in front of the Don. It was hard, and there was nearly a time or two when he was worried he might not make it, but these guys had been sitting on their laurels for so long they weren't ready for the fight they'd have to fight to stop him. When he ripped the don's blood from his body he made a show of it, manipulating him and twisting him, making it frightfully obvious to everyone around what he could do. They stood in stunned silence. He told them that the mob now belonged to him. No one stood up to oppose him. The area was soaked, however not a drop of rain fell from the sky. It was then that he finally had a name one his men gave him, the name the town whispered after the blood bath that happened that day when he took power. They called him The Rainmaker.

Rule
The Rainmaker has no reservation drinking in the privileges of the lifestyle his position affords. He generally lets his men handle the business while he just enjoys it's benefits. Occasionally he has to flex his powers to keep people in line, or assure certain deals go through, or just when he feels like it.

His reputation spilled throughout the town and any who interacted with the business heard stories of the man who single-handily took over the mob in a day. He let the rumors spread, a reputation was valuable in this business he soon learned; he even let the wild fantasies that the story took as it was repeated spread. Many who work for his mob or have business deals with them haven't met him, as he prefers to let the mystery of his reputation be all that people know of him. If anyone does meet him, they usually go in with about a fifty-fifty chance of surviving. Many of the higher echelon in the mob try in vain to understand his manic orders and plans, and are glad he is mostly a hands-off leader.