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Primeval was, and somewhat still is of the Kruvolt. Kruvolt are large, bulky, and very reptilian in appearance, though their size is deceptive since they mostly walk quadrupedal with hunched backs. Through a catastrophic event, Primeval and the rest of his kind had to forsake their dieing homeworld and seek refuge with a much more advanced alien species. They were taken in, but at the cost of their basic rights and freedoms. Primeval was sent to Earth as an experiment, to see how he adapts to the world around him and if the technology used on him could be used on the rest of his kind.

Player: @Aaiz
Biographical Data
Real Name: Tarrus Grahl
Known Aliases: Primeval, Prime, Tarrus, Grahl
Gender: Male
Species: Kruvolt
Ethnicity: N/A
Place of Birth: N/A
Base of Operations: Millennium City
Relatives: Deceased
Age: N/A
Height: Quadrupedal-5'6" Bipedal-7'3"
Weight: 760lbs (344.73kg)
Eyes: Sky blue
Hair: N/A
Complexion: Smooth dark green metal, trimmed with sharp/edged bronze colored metal
Physical Build: Thick, solid body with long arms and legs
Physical Features: Round, stubby snout with two horns, and a short segmented tail
██ ██ ██ ██ ██ ██ ██ ██ ██


Identity: Public
Years Active: 3
Citizenship: N/A
Occupation: N/A
Education: N/A
Marital Status: Single
Known Powers and Abilities
Strength, regeneration, protective plating, alternate 'Primal' mode
Equipment and Paraphernalia
Jet pack when in 'Primal' mode
Physical Attributes
Non-Physical Attributes
MaekadaBox created by @Maekada

One in a Million

Of the millions of Kruvolt, less than 900,000 were able to be evacuated, leaving the survivors devastated, and pliant to the wishes and demands of their saviors. As time went on, the Kruvolt became more and more integrated into their masters' civilization. Eventually, this lead to the barbaric and savage practices and beliefs to dwindle away, which most saw as a good thing. Primeval (then known as Tarrus Grahl) was disgusted by the rest of his kind, and ashamed of himself for letting this happen. Tarrus heard rumors of a "Calling of Traditions" among those left of the Kruvolt. A Calling of Traditions is one of the oldest practices of the Kruvolt, used in each and every different clan in the past as a way of remembering one's origins and sacred rites passed from generation to generation. When the ritual took place on the universally agreed time and place, only a dozen showed up. As dismaying as this was, Tarrus was still glad to see some others care about their heritage. Before the Calling could properly start, small devices rolled in from every entrance. The devices immediately started spreading streams of heavy, dark smoke that stung the eyes and nose. With a rallying cry, Tarrus broke a piece of metal piping from a nearby wall and charged towards one of the entrances. Before he could take more than five steps, Tarrus collapsed, his limbs numb and lifeless. As consciousness faded, Tarrus saw the other Kruvolt watching him with intense gazes, breathing apparatus strapped to their snouts.

Primal Will

As consciousness started to return, Tarrus relived the last thing he remembered. Seeing those cold, hard eyes watch him being dragged away. As if ignited by an unseen flame, his body burned with searing rage, swiftly opening his eyes and lurching up into a sitting position. Luckily for the spooked nurses and caretakers around him, Tarrus was restrained on a medical bed by numerous straps and harnesses. After a few moments of testing his bonds, Tarrus calmed a little when it was obvious he wasn't escaping by himself. As if waiting for the opportunity, a petite, very slim figure walked in. Covered from head to toe in flowing robes of emerald and gold cloth, Tarrus knew this person could only be of high status amongst the people that saved the Kruvolt. Tarrus strained and flexed against the straps holding him down as this visitor sat down in a nearby chair, just out of reach. After a while of watching and waiting for Tarrus to calm, it spoke.

"I'm sure you feel justified in your anger, but things are much more different, and dire, than what you believe," it said in a smooth, gentle, faintly masculine voice. "As you are aware, your kind have been getting...attuned to life here. While peace and luxury may be good, for your people it is not," it continued. "By whatever beliefs you hold dear, you were not meant to sit idle. You need hard labor. While we know that now, we did not foresee how quickly your people would decline in their health. The vast majority do not seem to care, but the few who do brought you to us. We need Kruvolt like you to help us help you."

With straps and a heavy muzzle around his snout, Tarrus could do little more than growl. As if seeing the restraints for the first time, it swiftly moved to undo those binding Tarrus' snout. After a few dainty and delicate motions, the muzzle and straps fell off, which gave Tarrus plenty of room to lock his jaws firmly onto his visitor's arm. It recoiled, but unable to get away, could only shiver and try to remain calm, regardless of the sound of its bones splintering in Tarrus' jaws.

"I-I s-see we underes-estimated your anger. B-but this is what we need! Your resolve, your sp-spirit, things the other Kruvolt h-have lost!" It took a gulping breath, trying to keep its arm from moving. After a few swift, deep breaths, it continued, " Please! W-with your help, we can use your resolve, with our technology, to advance the Kruvolt beyond even my kind!"

Tarrus stared at what he assumed was the face of this thing, hidden beneath its robe as it was. Seeing promise in its words, Tarrus slowly released the creature's arm from his jaws, its violet blood running down his chin and chest onto the bed. With a sigh of relief, it grasped Tarrus' hand in an affectionate squeeze, then swiftly fled the room.

Prime Evil

After a long period of tests and screenings, Tarrus was deemed ready. From what he had heard of the coming procedure, it sounded simple enough. They had tested the limits of his physical capabilities and, from the results, had determined the best ways to remove any shortcomings and increase his limits. They promised to use the least invasive options, and he could be awake and aware during it all. As doubtful as Tarrus wanted to be, he had only felt compassion come from those he had met. While he had not seen the fancily robed creature since that first initial meeting, the doctors and nurses were nice enough.

Very early on the morning after his final test, Tarrus groggily woke up to the bed he was on being moved by the medical staff. Recalling the procedure, Tarrus scowled. "You're lucky I woke up for this," he growled to no one specifically. The staff around him ignored his comment, and it was then he realized his limbs were bound, just like when he first arrived at this place. Furious, but knowing he could do nothing about his situation, Tarrus quietly watched as they brought him through a large door and into what had to be the operating room. What he saw made his heart jump.

Standing in the middle of the room was the tallest creature Tarrus had seen. With long, toned legs and a powerfully built body, it could easily look down upon the tallest Kruvolt. Beyond that Tarrus couldn't see much else of this being, obscured as it was by some form of military suit and helmet. Huddled together beneath this creature's shadow was a small group of petite, very slim figures covered in luxurious robes of vibrant colors. As the door behind Tarrus and the staff escorting him closed, the taller creature turned around, dropping something that it had been holding above the small group cowering under it. It was another one of the robed beings, its violet blood slowly dripping from its emerald and gold robes, while the prosthetic arm it had was twisted horribly. Already knowing what their orders were going to be, the medical staff swiftly shooed the terrified group of robe-creatures out, stepping over the corpse in a rush to not anger this newcomer. When the last of the staff followed and shut the door behind them, the tall creature turned its head down toward Tarrus.

Through its helmet came a deep, rumbling voice that said, "Weak beings of weaker spirit getting too attached to what will only be a product. A means to an end," it paused,then continued "I hope you will prove to be more successful than the dogs before you."

As Tarrus tried to get a word in, it grabbed his left wrist with a worryingly strong hold before it continued, "There is only one thing I have come to admire in any being; will. As physically strong as you or the largest Kruvolt are, as strong as I may be, that power dies no matter how hard one tries to stop it. A strong mind, a will, may last an eternity. But what if...what if we could put an unwavering spirit into an unbreakable body?"

Its grip on his wrist only tightened as it leaned in closer. "What of you? Will your mind break alongside your body?" It viciously yanked Tarrus' arm, which was still restrained. Before Tarrus could prepare, his forearm snapped in the middle by the restraint. As Tarrus clenched his jaws tight and struggled not to shout from the pain, the creature towering over him grasped his other wrist. This time though, it pulled his wrist much more slowly, watching his face as it gradually applied more force to the straining arm. Tarrus hissed, which quickly turned into a cry as his arm reached its limit, and with a sickening snap, even more agony.

Tarrus could only gasp for breath as he lay there, his arms twisted and splintered parodies of themselves. Shaking its head, the creature above him stood straight and looked down at him before commenting, "Very disappointing. Every runt, every cowering bitch I have had in here has shown more promise. Are you that weak? Is your whole identity nothing more than arrogant bravado?" Tarrus couldn't do much more than cough in between breaths in response, but he did conjure a defiant grin as he stared at this creature. "Well, that's a slight improvement, at least. much longer will that last?" it questioned as this time it locked its steel grip just above his right knee. Only able to tremble at what was to come, Tarrus locked his gaze to the visor of the creature's helmet, struggling not to flinch or look away as it twisted its wrist. Fighting to see past the spots in his vision, Tarrus continued to glare at the creature while clenching his jaws so tight, he felt teeth crack.

Apparently running out of patience, the creature swiftly drew a large knife from its belt before plunging it into Tarrus' heart. "If you have not broken yet, you may still be useful to me," it said as it leaned in close, applying more force to the knife. Tarrus' vision flickered, his body going into shock from the previous injuries as he bared his teeth before saying, "There's plenty...of bones go" Tarrus tried to headbutt the tall creature, but dropped his head before he could muster the strength; though he still stared at it. As Tarrus lost consciousness, he felt a needle forced into his neck.

For what felt like an eternity, this went on and on, forming a macabre routine. They'd break his body piece by piece before replacing any overly damaged parts with patchwork prosthetic versions, all while taunting and belittling him. As Tarrus became more and more accustomed to this new existence, the pain gradually became less noticeable. The doctors and other staff in this operation eventually became completely relaxed, almost careless, around Tarrus, as he seemed to be getting much more lethargic with the ever increasing mutilation of his body. It wasn't until he was little more than a head on an extremely elaborate life support system that he noticed a change. Large, armed guards had started occupying the facility. Almost all of them were Kruvolt. A very familiar figure arrived some time later, directing a group of technicians that were carrying containers of something quite heavy before turning its gaze toward Tarrus, its visor as obscuring as ever.

"If you still have not broken," its voice once again rumbled from its helmet "then you will have the rare honor of seeing me impressed. Very few of my own kind get this far..." it trailed off, before redirecting his attention to the technicians. As the new situation became more organized, Tarrus was shocked from what he saw with the technicians; they were constructing a robotic body, one that was of vastly superior technology compared to what Tarrus had ever seen. What caught his eye more than that though, was what it resembled; a Kruvolt. Proportions seemed to be spot on, and had Tarrus struggling to accept that this was related to him in some way, but could not piece it all together. When the construction was complete, the delicate work of transferring Tarrus to his new body began.

As the doctors and technicians prepared, the tall creature in charge got closer to Tarrus, " 'Why?' I assume your slow, medicated mind is wondering. 'Why break my body only to replace it with that?' You are to be the prototype towards transcending physical frailty, 'mortality' some might say," it looked to the lead doctor and nodded, signalling for them to start. "You see me as a vile, mad, zealous beast. That's good. That drive has kept you alive," it leaned its head in ever closer, almost right against Tarrus' ear, " more than can be said for the rest of your kind...More than your family." Right at that moment, everything went blank as Tarrus was engulfed by medicine induced euphoria.


Tarrus was content, perhaps even happy. He had waited, waited until he had mastered his new body and for the opportunity. Having the strength to finally break his bonds, he had gleefully stormed past the frightened and confused staff, the Kruvolt guards unable to react fast enough. Tarrus didn't care for any talks, speeches, or monologues, and as that familiar, towering figure came into view he wasted no time.

After that quick, gruesome slaughter, the witnesses present had taken to calling him 'Primeval' from the vicious, almost bestial way he had fought. As things calmed down and investigations came to a close, it was decided to officially outlaw the inhumane practices that 'Primeval' had gone through, although there was still much interest in further exploring this avenue of technology. Unwilling to reprimand Primeval for his actions but unable to fully pardon him, he was to be sent to another civilization in the hopes of learning more from this symbiosis of biology and technology, while at the same time allowing for the current laws and ethics to be revised and rewritten until Primeval (and any other similar cases that may arise) may be pardoned or reconciled.


Primeval has the slightly hunched posture and overall shape of a Kruvolt. His head is of flesh and blood, the only original part of him left, and has the typical tough hide, bony plates and blunt snout of a Kruvolt. His body is an elaborate copy of his original body, but is covered in dark-green metal plates trimmed with a gold tinted color. On top of this, his body can also shift to a 'primal' mode. This alternate mode forgoes the more defensive aspects his normal form has, parting and folding the plates covering his body to allow better ventilation and cooling.
Primeval's 'Primal' mode


Usually fairly reserved, Primeval normally doesn't have much to say. He also has a really blunt, straight forward and often cynical attitude, not one for honeyed words. This, combined with his robotic appearance and a metalic resonance to his rough, gravely voice gives the illusion of being very cold, or callous. While Primeval finds it hard to feel any form of affection to those he has met so far, he has a deep loathing for chaos or anarchy, and seeing others harmed by what he sees as disgusting and pathetic actions. As a result, Primeval has a steadfast respect, almost reverence, towards laws and regulations.

Once Primeval becomes more comfortable with his surroundings, his humorous side can sometimes show. Not a very clever comedian, Primeval still likes jokes to be tossed around, as a sign of things being calm and lighthearted.

More to come!