Mintz

𖤐 Hell's Renegades 𖤐

Donovan listened to Casey's musings on Uncrustables, even raising his brow for a moment as sugar-free variants were mentioned. Seriously? He'd never even heard of that...Who in their right mind would want one of those things without any sugar? He didn't get much time to dwell on it, though, as the chimeric Hound brought up another lunchtime classic, though hearing it brought a small, awkward frown to his face. "Eh...Couldn't tell ya myself. Never had any Lunchables." Jack didn't elaborate any further, but it was another small, miserable crumb of information about his previous life. Who never had Lunchables before?

After that, time came and went in a fugue state for him. He kept up the idle conversation as best he could (which was to say, not well at all), and when the food showed up, while he wasn't actually all that hungry (which he had been coming to notice as a trend in the past few days. Maybe something he ought to bring up to the doctors...), he was still eager for something, quickly snatching some of the cookies before it was too late. Jack definitely had a bit of a sweet tooth, which had especially sucked as of late given he was 'medically' required to avoid too much sugar intake. Something about developing an addiction, he hadn't paid too much attention when the eggheads were talking about it. Still, they weren't here to stop him right now, so he could indulge a bit.

And so he quietly chewed through his cookies, passively watching the projected news feed with waning interest. The most that caught him was seeing the pet adoption story, which made him think of the closest thing he'd ever had to a pet; that weird mutt who'd hung around the dormitory back in his college time. He wondered what became of the dog; far as he remembered, no one ever came up to actually claim the strange pooch as their own, but the dorm kinda just all looked after it anyhow. He hoped that was the same, even without him there. He...Missed that dog, a lot. It had been nice to have something to talk to that wouldn't judge or talk back or offer shitty advice. They'd just been happy to be there. While it brought a smile to his face, his eyes took on a brief, melancholy look.

Time passed, even faster than he'd realized, and before Jack knew it, the big man himself (at least, metaphorically speaking) came in; Roy Vega. Alongside a few nurses with meds, but that wasn't his concern. They didn't have anything to help with his withdrawals, complicated as they were, so he just had to handle it. Eventually, though, Roy called for the Hounds to gather around, and, well...Obviously, Donovan complied. What else was he going to do?

Hanging out behind the couch, armed leaned on the top, he quietly absorbed everything being said...Which sadly included the 'conclusion' of Sabriel and Rubber's shitty little spat, to which he just rolled his eyes. However, the conversation took a strange turn after the big man mentioned an 'important announcement'. Frankly, those two words leaving any authority figure's mouth just caused Jack to wilt a bit more inside. Especially given their situation, that couldn't mean anything good. Still, Casey jumped straight for a quip, and Roy responded....Suspiciously. The hell did that mean, 'something like that'? Not a chance of a snowflake in Hell were they getting anything close to some R&R like that. Or maybe he meant some psychopath was busy tearing up Splash Mountain and they had to go stop them. That'd be their luck.

...Maybe it was because his mind gravitated towards Splash Mountain, or maybe he was just in the mood to humor the bizarre angle the conversation had taken, but Donovan added his own piece. "You ask me, Disneyland is kinda overrated. I remember hitting a waterpark when I was a kid though; Seabreeze Waterpark. That was fun." Donny's smile, especially in comparison to his brief reminiscing from the news story, was pretty genuine. His time at that waterpark was actually one of the few good childhood memories he could recall.

𖤐 Hell's Renegades 𖤐

Donovan simply stared, deadpan. Did they seriously just spout off the entirety of the First Amendment off the top of their heads? He hadn't meant for that to be taken so literally...Not knowing how else to respond, after a brief groan, he simply nodded. "Yeah, yeah. You're free to be pissed about him, and he's free to talk garbage. Long as it doesn't go further than words." He'd said his piece, however weak it felt after getting a part of the constitution verbally dumped on his head. Awkwardly sidling a bit away from the couch, he mercifully found something new to focus on; the questioning squawks of Bezaliel.

"Sorry bud," Jack spoke up, turning his gaze upwards into the rafters. "but that stuff's made outta jams and peanut butter, mostly. Think there's a honey one, too..." His face scrunched up in concentration, trying to recall the actual kinds of sandwiches they made for their brand. Regardless, he could pretty much guarantee none of it is Bez-edible. Realizing he was getting caught up overthinking it, he shook it off and gave a more appropriate response to get to Bez. "Er, that means no meat." He wished he had better news for him, but that was just how it was.

The last thing to catch him off-guard was Lauden; or, that is to say, the lack of him as he began to take his leave. Did...Did he honestly think things were gonna stay quiet enough for that? It was shockingly optimistic as far as their group went. Jack knew he couldn't get back to sleep, that much was certain. Beyond a briefly raised brow at the departure, Donovan shrugged it off and focused his attention back on the group as a whole as best he could, just trying to make sure nothing cataclysmic happened. Sadly, if it came to something like that, he was pretty confident he'd be one of the few Hounds in the room who might be willing to step in instead of adding fuel to the fire somehow. Thinking about it, he just softly sighed and got comfy in his spot lounging against the wall.

𖤐 Hell's Renegades 𖤐

It was a miracle; or whatever the opposite of a miracle could be. It had barely been a few minutes since he'd entered the scene, and it somehow got even more aggravating, now with Sabriel and the more disconcerting of the two alien lifeforms in the room getting into a miserable spat. Stack on Ana with her incessant ritualistic chanting, and the place was starting to sound like the most psychotic high school lunchroom imaginable.

With a groan of defeat, Jack merely trudged his way to the furthest wall from the chaos, keeping as low as he could. He wouldn't get in the middle of the ugly little quarrel unless things got physical, which he believed - er....He hoped wouldn't happen, and despite their months spent together, he always found it hard trying to interact with the other Hounds, least of all in a hectic setting like this. He barely functioned in these sorts of scenarios before they also involved murderers and cannibals. Well, singular on the cannibal....Hopefully. Not like he knew everyone's full track record or anything. Or his own, as grim a thought as that was.

...He quickly shook those thoughts away. Donovan had dwelled on them long enough back in his room. Focusing back on the goings-on, he picked up on the little comments Casey and Pine were making. Whether he was just trying to make small talk, or actually trying to assuage their concerns, it was hard to say, even for him. "If it gets beyond words, I'll handle it. Otherwise..." He shrugged, clearly having little investment beyond making sure nobody tried to tear out a carotid artery this morning. "First Amendment, y'know."

𖤐 Hell's Renegades 𖤐

There was blood. He could smell it; feel it, as if it were oozing out of every pore in him. An disgustingly coppery scent that seemed to pervade into everything around him. There was fire, too. Some of it natural, and yet so much more was a familiar hazy purple that slowly melted the surroundings into sludge. But more prevalent than anything else were the screams. Both physical and mental. People screaming for their lives. People screaming for it to stop. People screaming at a monster, begging and praying for it all to end. The psychic end of things were even worse, as if being assaulted by the fear and horror of everyone around, as their minds buckled and broke from the scene before them. It was-

"400."

As he pushed, his whole body lifted into the air, his entire muscular figure being put airborne by the work of a lone arm. He'd switched it up throughout the routine, of course; 200 per arm. In fact, he could do this stuff with a finger, but he figured it was a little early to be doing that sort of thing. Really, he had decided on a whim to spend his precious 30 minutes so early just to get himself out of his own head. Today was a bad one, he could already tell.

With his final push-up completed, the man effortlessly placed himself back on his own two feet. Despite the grueling exercise, he seemed to have nary a drop of sweat on him, as if it had been nothing for him. Which was true, frankly. Left without much to do, he simply went back to his bed and pulled a comic book from a cubby nearby. It was about...Trueheart. Definitely a more awkward subject nowadays, but he didn't let that hamper his reading experience.

This man was Jack Donovan. Beyond his almost disturbingly fit build, he appeared very unassuming, with his scruffy-looking brown hair and dark grey eyes and a rather slouched posture in spite of his exceptional physique. He idled away the time, reading over the whole collection of comics they afforded him. Honestly, if he felt like anything they'd managed to do lately warranted it, he might've asked about adding a few more, but...Things haven't been great lately, putting it lightly.

His much more shallow mental musings and casual reading experience were abruptly interrupted and completely shattered about an hour later by the headache-inducing morning call (if he was being generous) of one of his....'Teammates'. His brow furrowed, his morning getting progressively worse by the minute. Sadly, though, that had become the norm of this place. He took a bit of extra time merely trying to mentally prepare himself for the day, recalling some breathing exercises the therapist had taught him. "Okay, Jack...New day. New you..." He spoke the words, but there wasn't an ounce of confidence in them.

His lack of confidence seemed well-earned when, the moment he stepped outside, Donovan nearly got caught in the fly-by being performed by the resident Angel (even after all this time, he was still chewing on that, honestly). His rapid-fire reflexes pulled him out of that line of fire quickly...Even if there probably would've been more harm to Bezaliel than himself if an actual collision occurred. "JESUS! Bez! This place is not the size for flying!" Not even a minute outside and he was already yelling. He gave a quick exhale, as if trying to push the anger out of him. It was too early to get pissed off. If anything, it was too early for any of this crap, but that never stopped them.

When he made his approach to the impromptu congregation, however, Jack noticed the completely laid-out Sabriel. Well, he'd at least gotten his comeuppance already. In spite of everything, a small pleased smirk graced his otherwise grim features. He knew it wouldn't change anything down the line, but it at least made him feel better. Consolation prizes worked, too.

《 H.E.R.O. 2064 》

Wild to see this ol' place pop up in my feed again lol. But yeah, understandable

𖤐 Hell's Renegades 𖤐

Safe || "Spite" || Potential Risk

h-004

Legal

Last Name: Donovan
First Name: Jack
Middle Name: Rudolph
Apparent Age: 20
Actual Age: 24
​DoB: 15/3/1987
Sex: Male
Caste: Transmute/Hu-MU

Personal

Preferred Name(s): Donovan, Donny
Gender: Male
Pronouns: He/Him
Nouns:* Masculine
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Romantic Orientation: Heterosexual
Status: N/D

Overview

Donovan was born and raised (though 'raise' might be giving too much credit to his family) in Brooklyn, New York. Despite his somewhat imposing figure, he is surprisingly mild and soft-spoken in most conversations, though he can become extremely loud when angered, which is far from an uncommon occurrence. He seems to enjoy reading, especially when it comes to comic books and graphic novels. While not quite completely antisocial, Jack seems to struggle when dealing with larger groups of people, and in particular, he reacts poorly to authority figures when they attempt to exert said authority, usually turning fearful or wrathful, depending on his current temperament. While he does possess a Brooklynite accent, he usually keeps it under wraps, though it effortlessly spills through when his temper gets the better of him. When it comes to clothing, he seems to have little preference for anything, unless he is dealing with cold weather, which he despises; in that case, he bundles up severely.

Procedure

Due to his immune system becoming chemically imbalanced by the infusion of performance-enhancing serums and injections that granted him his abilities, Jack is notably vulnerable to forms of chemical assault. Namely, a tranquilizer delivery system was inserted into his back, which can send its payload at a moment's notice and knock him out for upwards of 4 hours in only a matter of seconds, giving staff plenty of time to refill the system and situate him into a secure location after any incidents. It is also required that he maintain a relatively low-activity schedule, so as not to build up excessive energy through exercise or other motion that could result in an incident with his powers. As such, he is only allowed 30 minutes of exercise each day, and must be closely monitored to ensure he performs no extraneous activity beyond this timeframe.

Physical Description

Donovan is exceptionally built, mostly due to the alterations to his biology through the chemical compounds he has taken, namely NME-001, 'Hercules'. In spite of his excellent physique, Jack is also quite pallid and his eyes seem unfocused and exhausted. This is presumed to be part of the withdrawal symptoms of not using those compounds for an extended period of time, though he also takes common medical check-ups to ensure his condition isn't worsening. Beyond this, he has a head of messy brown hair that is rather poorly kept, and harsh grey eyes that, as mentioned before, seem to be in a permanent state of some level of sleep deprivation or intense stress. His clothing is simple; realistically, he'll wear whatever the DNCC will give him, but he's usually granted clothing similar to what he came in with, that being a black tank-top, plain brown pants, and a deep blue hoodie.

Physical

Hair: Brown
Eyes: Grey
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 215 lbs
Skin: Pale
Notes:

• Jack is meant to avoid any potentially addicting substances due to his compromised system, including things like high amounts of sugar or caffeine.

Abilities

• "Superhuman Physique" - While not nearly as impressive as when he used to be consistently taking the Numan drug known as 'Hercules', Spite possesses a notable level of superhuman features. He's strong enough to lift roughly a ton, light-caliber weaponry and most martial weapons cannot break through his skin, and he can sprint up to 80 MPH at top speeds. He also notably produces much less fatigue toxins than a normal human, allowing him to function at peak condition for hours on end.
• "Regeneration" - Similarly to his other abilities, his regeneration is not to the standards it was when taking the Numan drug 'Asclepius'; he is able to recover from most cuts, bruises, and minor fractures in minutes, and repair some more severe damage, such as broken bones or damaged musculature given some hours to recuperate. It cannot, however, restore lost limbs or repair severely life-threatening organ damage.
• "Energy Absorption/Unnatural Flames" - Yet again, notably weakened in comparison to his time taking 'Helios', but Spite is able to absorb a minor amount of energy directed at him, whether it be kinetic, friction, thermal, energy, or even more esoteric forms of it, even generated by other powers, and use it to create a form of Pyrokinesis, which takes the form of purplish flames, though the fire does not function as a natural one would. They do not need oxygen or raw materials to burn up and survive, instead simply fading away after some time has passed; usually dependent on the level of energy put into them. Interestingly, it seems he has developed a new use for this ability after his incarceration, that being funneling the absorbed energy into empowering his other abilities, albeit temporarily.
• "Psychokinesis" - While originally spanning a much broader range of psychic abilities when taking the substance known as 'Nyx', it has devolved into simple psychokinesis, and only possesses about half the lift force his raw muscles afford him, though it still has a fairly impressive effective range of 20 meters, or about 65 feet.

Stats

STR - 2
DEX - 2
SPD - 2
CON - 3
INT - 0
WIS - 0
CHA - -1
PWR - 3

History

Jack Donovan was a college dropout who was handed an exciting opportunity by some less than scrupulous individuals; in exchange for being a willing participant in human test trials, he could have the chance to become something greater than himself. Something greater than a mere man. They offered to make him a Superhero. As a young man desperate for anything after failing to graduate, and, admittedly, a bit of a connoisseur of all things Numan, he couldn't help but take them up on the offer, and after signing more waivers than he'd care to admit, it was time.

For a while, things went exactly as he could've hoped. The doctors would bring him in, give him some strange new formula to test, and after giving it some time to settle, would run him through tests with his new, completely superhuman abilities. It was exhilarating! Before this, he was just some slouch, but after the first test, he'd put most professional bodybuilders to shame with his physique! Of course, they usually kept him in the labs until the effects started waning to send him back home, but regardless, it was a whole new world to him. And as he - and the researchers handling him - soon found out, these experimental serums and such were slowly growing more permanent effects on him. It was an unexpected, but not unpleasant, surprise, for both him and his handlers. However, one issue still remained; despite several successful tests and his eagerness to really flex his abilities and put himself out there, he was constantly told to not do anything with his powers, even as they slowly became more permanent. It upset him, but, well...They were the bosses here. He'd do it, if it meant there'd still be a chance.

However, things changed one day when Donovan was walking back home from a test, still feeling like a million bucks. Well, speaking of bucks, he had to stop by the bank; he was low on cash. It was there that he happened to land himself straight in a bank robbery, much to his surprise. The only thing really on his mind then, though, was just how scared everyone else was around him as this went down. He couldn't feel a thing; why would he be scared of these mooks? Back in the labs, they had way crazier things than guys with handguns thrown at him. But...These people, they weren't like that. They were like he used to be, helpless and alone...It was then that, in spite of what his benefactors had wished, Jack acted. Single-handedly, before any other heroes or authorities could reach the scene, he subdued all the armed assailants with ease. For that brief moment, as the people began to herald him for his heroics, that he felt truly alive...

Only to fall, fall, fall....

News like that didn't take long to spread; an unexpected new Numan takes to the scene and effortlessly stopped a crime-in-progress, after all. The folks who set this all up didn't appreciate that potential attention, so they deigned to take a nuclear option. They'd gotten all they needed out of this one, anyhow. The next time Donovan came to the lab, they gently sedated him, telling him that this would be his last test until he could become a real hero...Of course, this was also when they injected him with everything, and with a little something extra. Their most vile concoction yet...Tartarus. Its effects were simple, yet extremely pronounced; it was a performance enhancer for Numan powers, and on top of the fresh cocktail of super-drugs he had just received, the results were vile and violent. Donovan himself claims to have very little memory of the incident thereafter, but he still remembers the looks everyone had looking at him once he was behind bars. Disgusted, as if he was subhuman trash that deserved nothing less than execution.

It didn't take him long to learn why.

Turned out, he went on a drug-fueled rampage across several city-blocks, leveling everything in his path, and killing anything in it all the same; heroes and civilians alike. It was unfair, is what he decided; to both himself, and to everyone who fell victim to his blind rage. But...What else could he do but accept it? His word meant nothing. It never had meant anything to anyone, all his life, and this was just the final nail in his coffin. So all he could do is carry the guilt of his foolish actions like a lead ball dropped in his stomach, and bare the pain of his incarceration.

Criminal Record

• Property Damage ─ In his rampage, Jack decimated much of the entire borough of Brooklyn, with the costs for repairs being well in the millions.
• Manslaughter ─ Since he was not considered 'of sound mind', this charge got pushed from murder to manslaughter, but still was more than enough to land him permanent incarceration, with a body count that is still uncertain to this day, but reaching well into the thousands, if not hundreds of thousands.
• Illicit Substance Abuse ─ While not aware of it, Jack had been partaking in many highly illegal and extremely volatile drugs and chemicals, and was tried as such.

Agent Lorelei Fischer
Head Researcher
_{Clearance Level - 4}

Amendments

20 January

Testing of blood samples from subject "Spite" have begun. We have isolated the primary mutagenic compound that started the initial rampage in New York City, which we are tentatively coding as NME(Numan Meta-Enhancer)-000, 'Tartarus'. While the sample is extremely diluted, that allowed us to discern one of the notable flaws with this mutagen, that being its limited time frame; while initially, this compound would enhance a Numan's abilities by about ten times their normal facets, this quality is roughly halved with each passing hour. This tracks with the timeline of the subject's capture, as it was roughly three hours of non-stop combat with a large number of heroes before it was able to be put down. By that point, his ability improvement from 'Tartarus' had decayed to roughly a 1.3 times increase in power. The last note to make is while this compound seems to grant excessive power, if temporary, it also causes the power(s) in question to go, for lack of better term, berserk. From footage recovered from the incident, the subject clearly had little control over how its abilities, or even its own body, was acting, showing off wild and violent displays of its enhanced powers with reckless abandon. If it were not for its extraordinarily heighted regenerative abilities, these side effects would have likely terminated the subject long before capture.

─ Agent Fischer

16 February

We have managed to discern a new mutagenic compound within the blood samples of the subject, currently listed as NME-001, 'Hercules'. Simply put, the drug induces an impressive level of superhuman physicality. When used regularly, we surmise the individual in question would possess unbelievably compacted musculature, typical of most superhumanly strong Numans, serving as both a source of incredible strength, likely able to lift upwards of 20 tonnes, and nearly unmatched durability. It is likely their skin alone would deflect or break most conventional forms of weaponry, including high-yield explosives. It is likely only extreme measures or other Numans would be able to properly wound the individual, and even then, due to their muscle structure, it serves as a highly-condensed layer of tissue that would absorb almost any impact, preventing it from reaching bone, which regardless would possess an even greater durability than the skin layer. Additionally, while not quite possessing superhuman speeds in the extreme sense, their agility and dexterity would be highly improved as well. It is likely they could go from standing still to breaking into a 60 MPH sprint in an instant, and at top speeds, would be able to outrun most terrestrial vehicles by going roughly over 200 MPH. On top of this, their reaction speed would be even faster, able to react to things moving at upwards of Mach 1. Like the previous substance, however, 'Hercules' also has a notable flaw (though it was also potentially an intentional side effect) of inducing heightened testosterone, and by proxy, a greater chance for aggressive behavior or general moodiness. It also causes the user to become more instinctual in their movements, occasionally reacting before they think.

─ Agent Fischer

15 March

A new breakthrough was made with the subject's blood samples, revealing yet another mutagenic compound, this one being christened as NME-002, 'Asclepius'. It offers a highly advanced form of cellular regeneration, able to restore minor injures within mere seconds and even severe, life-threatening damage, such as lost limbs or damaged/destroyed organs within mere minutes. It also would have fought off foreign toxins and other biological attacks, though was specifically designed so as to avoid interacting with specific chemical compounds; we likely have this to attribute to the subject's new vulnerability to general chemical attacks. Most startling is the fact that, from the data we can inform from our research, the subject could have survived having their heart, and even brain, partially or completely destroyed with this mutagenic compound being used. However, we surmise that any brain damage received and therefore regenerated would have inflicted either short-term or permanent memory loss and amnesia. This may explain the subject's inability to recall most of its inciting incident. Similarly to the other substances, 'Asclepius' possessed an error in its design (though yet again, could have been an intentional design choice); a subject's sensibilities while under the influence of this drug would have been slowed and somewhat warped, comparable to being under light anesthetics. This could have been a way to help the user ignore the pain of any injuries they incurred, or potentially meant to be directly used alongside NME-001 'Hercules' to curb its aggressive side effects.

─ Agent Fischer

4 April

Our latest breakthrough is, dare I say, the greatest yet, as it shows us the secret behind our subject's most unusual and potent ability; energy absorption. This compound has been dubbed NME-003, 'Helios'. In the height of its power, the compound made its user capable of absorbing upwards of 25% of any form of energy they made contact with, which, when considered alongside NME-001 'Hercules' and NME-002 'Asclepius', would have made the subject extremely hard to terminate even before the addtion of NME-000 'Tartarus'. Additionally, the user could wield this energy in the form of scientifically-baffling Pyrokinetics. These flames deny all explanation, as they burn without regards to any of the natural rules of fire. Not only could it burn under the ocean, but it may even function in space, as well, which is frankly an upsetting notion for myself. We sadly have little explanation to offer on how exactly it functions like this beyond Numan intricacies that go beyond scientific standings. Most interestingly for thos compound, however, is both a lack of a negative trait, unlike the others listed thus far, and even moreso, is how the subject has developed an entirely new usage for the ability beyond its intended functions. The subject's ability to utilize the stored energy through their other abilities is not an intended function of 'Helios', but rather seemingly an ability the subject has developed on their own, possibly intuitively after it reached a new height of power during his rampage in New York.

─ Agent Fischer

30 May

I was sorely mistaken. Even the effects of 'Helios' pale in comparison to the potential full functionality of the latest and, as far as we are aware of now, final mutagenic compound present in his bloodstream; NME-004, 'Nyx'. It has a deceptively simple function; it heightens the psychic capabilities of the user to an exceptional degree. However, it notably does not have an intended psychic ability it grants, and thus, has theoretically endless flexibility. We presume the reason it developed as a form of Telekinesis for the subject is due to a lack of greater thinking and a focus towards material things, and the need to impose their will upon such things. It is likely that, back at the height of its power, the subject would have been capable of far more than this. This hypothesis seems to be supported by the array of, admittedly horrific psychic abilities the subject showcased when it was under the effects of 'Tartarus'.

─ Agent Fischer

1 September

This last file has proven exceptionally challenging; after all the compounds had been successfully analyzed and listed, we were tasked with trying to grasp the exact powerset of the subject during its time under the full effects of NME-000, 'Tartarus'. This was no small feat, but with my colleagues, we have compiled what we expect to be the extents of what it was capable of in that first-hour frame. Firstly, while 'Hercules' was certainly improved, it is of minor note in comparison to the rest of the drastic evolutions it underwent. Namely, 'Asclepius' advanced from a rather advanced, yet mechanically simplistic regenerative ability to a full-blown control over their body's composition and functions, theoretically even down to their very DNA. They showed this ability in many jarring and gruesome ways, such as generating multiple limbs, forming entirely new and inhuman appendages (such as a tail, wings, and more), and creating explosive growths of an entanglement of musculature and bone to strike out at others to brutal effect. It could still regenerate as well, obvious, and it was to a point where damage that somehow got through their nigh-impenetrable defenses would barely stay for a few seconds before being mended, no matter how severe.

When it comes to their energy absorption, a safe estimate was that during this period, it was capable of absorbing roughly 75% of any form of energy directed at it, which, in tandem with the enhanced 'Hercules' and 'Asclepius', had turned the subject functionally indestructible. On top of that, it began to form a passive aura around the subject that sapped energy from everything other than itself in a roughly 30 foot radius. This caused materials around it to lose stability and eventually crumble into dust, and living creatures to lose their vitality and slowly become desiccated and husk-like. Lastly, 'Helios' evolved to the point that it eschewed simple flames and converted into launching beams of 'pure' energy, akin to something like plasma. From groundwork forensics, anything these attacks made contact with were destroyed utterly, leaving nothing perceivable to the naked eye or even scientific instruments to be found in its wake.

Lastly, the subject's psychic abilities from 'Nyx' were drastically awakened by the effects of 'Tartarus'. From surviving eyewitnesses and video accounts, the subject could supposedly perform telepathy, and with it, mind-reading, clairvoyance (allowing him to perceive other locations beyond his naked eyes), mind control (though due to its mental state, it threw targets into a wild frenzy moreso than proper control over them), psychic blasts, and some form of psychically-charged teleportation, using sheer mental power to shunt itself through space. It also, at least once, was reported to use its psychic abilities to...Pop the heads of several individuals within a small radius of itself. Autopsies report that it must have been an internal explosion of psychic force focused at the center of each target's brain, to gruesome effect. These are, as far as we are aware of at this time, all the capabilities the subject possessed at the time of its attack on Brooklyn.

─ Agent Fischer

Hell's Renegades: A chaos squad of villainous...rehab?

@Baphomini Well hell, glad ya think so! If you'd wanna have access to it for plot reasons, I could probably cook up some stuff for that mystery organization he got roped into as well, to add into it some more.

Regardless though, looking forward to the official thread ad Discord! :D

Hell's Renegades: A chaos squad of villainous...rehab?

Glad to see people are a fan! :D

Also yes, he really does need a hug. Bro is going through it right now

@Baphomini Also, I'll be more than happy to do just that, though one thing I didn't explain well enough in that History tab is that when he went berserk in the 'final test', he basically took the whole facility with him, and that was intentional so as to cover their tracks; the best they'd be able to get are whatever trace elements of the chemicals would've been present in his bloodstream at the time of his apprehension, which wouldn't be a ton for them to go off of. But hey, better than nothing!

Hell's Renegades: A chaos squad of villainous...rehab?

Hi! Saw this, and I really wanted to take a shot at it! Hopefully my dude seems interesting enough, enjoy!

Jack Donovan, AKA Spite

Number: #004
Code Name: Spite
Classification: Safe || Risk Level: Potential Risk
Legal Name: Jack Donovan
Preferred Name: Donovan
Age: 24 || DOB: March 15th
Height: 6'2" || Weight: 215 lbs
Sex: M || Gender: Cis Man; He/Him

Ability(ies):

• "Superhuman Physique" - While not nearly as impressive as when he used to be consistently taking the Numan drug known as 'Hercules', Spite possesses a notable level of superhuman features. He's strong enough to lift roughly a ton, light-caliber weaponry and most martial weapons cannot break through his skin, and he can sprint up to 80 MPH at top speeds. He also notably produces much less fatigue toxins than a normal human, allowing him to function at peak condition for hours on end.
• "Regeneration" - Similarly to his other abilities, his regeneration is not to the standards it was when taking the Numan drug 'Asclepius', he is able to recover from most cuts, bruises, and minor fractures in minutes, and repair some more severe damage, such as broken bones or damage musculature given some hours to recuperate. It cannot, however, restore lost limbs or repair severely life-threatening organ damage.
• "Energy Absorption/Unnatural Flames" - Yet again, notably weakened in comparison to his time taking 'Helios', but Spite is able to absorb a minor amount of energy directed at him, whether it be kinetic, friction, thermal, energy, or even more esoteric forms of it, even generated by other powers, and use it to create a form of Pyrokinesis, which takes the form of purplish flames, though the fire does not function as a natural one would. They do not need oxygen or raw materials to burn up and survive, instead simply fading away after some time has passed; usually dependent on the level of energy put into them. Interestingly, it seems he has developed a new use for this ability after his incarceration, that being funneling the absorbed energy into empowering his other abilities, albeit temporarily.
• "Psychokinesis" - While originally spanning a much broader range of psychic abilities when taking the substance known as 'Nyx', it has devolved into simple psychokinesis, and only possesses about half the lift force his raw muscles afford him, though it still has a fairly impressive effective range of 20 meters, or about 65 feet.

Physical Description: Broad-shouldered young man whose face makes him look much older than he really is, always seeming to look tired and a touch paler than he ought to. This is attributed to his system having to reassess itself after a prolonged absence of any of the power-inducing drugs he had been consistently taking before. He has dirt-brown hair, ill-kept and scruffy-looking, and grey eyes that look more than a bit dead inside. Small bits of facial hair line his chin and the top of his lips, serving only to add to his disheveled look. His clothing is rather simplistic; plain light brown slacks, a deep blue hoodie, and underneath that, a black tank-top. His last notable piece of apparel would be an off-putting red full-face mask of sorts, with it having an almost chitin-like quality to it. It is unknown where it came from, but he was wearing it when he was apprehended.

Procedure: Perhaps due to his...Condition, Donovan has a highly compromised system that does little to filter drugs, serums, and other sorts safely through him. This fortunately means that simple tranquilizers have an astonishingly effective yield on him, and thus, rigging a sedative system into his blood flow for remote activation has proven to be an effective solution to any chance aggression from him. Beyond this, he is prohibited from any extraneous activity or objects he could use to provide energy to himself, anywhere from a knife's dulled cutting force to a battery. He is allowed only 30 minutes of exercise a day, due to the fact that repeated movements build up kinetic force that he can, theoretically, use with his ability to attempt a breakout.

History: Jack Donovan was a college dropout who was handed an exciting opportunity by some less than scrupulous individuals; in exchange for being a willing participant in human test trials, he could have the chance to become something greater than himself. Something greater than a mere man. They offered to make him a Superhero. As a young man desperate for anything after failing to graduate, and, admittedly, a bit of a connoisseur of all things Numan, he couldn't help but take them up on the offer, and after signing more waivers than he'd care to admit, it was time.

For a while, things went exactly as he could've hoped. The doctors would bring him in, give him some strange new formula to test, and after giving it some time to settle, would run him through tests with his new, completely superhuman abilities. It was exhilarating! Before this, he was just some slouch, but after the first test, he'd put most professional bodybuilders to shame with his physique! Of course, they usually kept him in the labs until the effects started waning to send him back home, but regardless, it was a whole new world to him. And as he - and the researchers handling him - soon found out, these experimental serums and such were slowly growing more permanent effects on him. It was an unexpected, but not unpleasant, surprise, for both him and his handlers. However, one issue still remained; despite several successful tests and his eagerness to really flex his abilities and put himself out there, he was constantly told to not do anything with his powers, even as they slowly became more permanent. It upset him, but, well...They were the bosses here. He'd do it, if it meant there'd still be a chance.

However, things changed one day when Donovan was walking back home from a test, still feeling like a million bucks. Well, speaking of bucks, he had to stop by the bank; he was low on cash. It was there that he happened to land himself straight in a bank robbery, much to his surprise. The only thing really on his mind then, though, was just how scared everyone else was around him as this went down. He couldn't feel a thing; why would he be scared of these mooks? Back in the labs, they had way crazier things than guys with handguns thrown at him. But...These people, they weren't like that. They were like he used to be, helpless and alone...It was then that, in spite of what his benefactors had wished, Jack acted. Single-handedly, before any other heroes or authorities could reach the scene, he subdued all the armed assailants with ease. For that brief moment, as the people began to herald him for his heroics, that he felt truly alive...

Only to fall, fall, fall....

News like that didn't take long to spread; an unexpected new Numan takes to the scene and effortlessly stopped a crime-in-progress, after all. The folks who set this all up didn't appreciate that potential attention, so they deigned to take a nuclear option. They'd gotten all they needed out of this one, anyhow. The next time Donovan came to the lab, they gently sedated him, telling him that this would be his last test until he could become a real hero...Of course, this was also when they injected him with everything, and with a little something extra. Their most vile concoction yet...Tartarus. Its effects were simple, yet extremely pronounced; it was a performance enhancer for Numan powers, and on top of the fresh cocktail of super-drugs he had just received, the results were vile and violent. Donovan himself claims to have very little memory of the incident thereafter, but he still remembers the looks everyone had looking at him once he was behind bars. Disgusted, as if he was subhuman trash that deserved nothing less than execution.

It didn't take him long to learn why.

Turned out, he went on a drug-fueled rampage across several city-blocks, leveling everything in his path, and killing anything in it all the same; heroes and civilians alike. It was unfair, is what he decided; to both himself, and to everyone who fell victim to his blind rage. But...What else could he do but accept it? His word meant nothing. It never had meant anything to anyone, all his life, and this was just the final nail in his coffin. So all he could do is carry the guilt of his foolish actions like a lead ball dropped in his stomach, and bare the pain of his incarceration.

Parahumans: Earth Drega

---

Oh, well that was bad.

Looking through it, nearly half a dozen floors were seemingly completely caked in that strange, silvery substance that he knew from their brief briefing was from Ironsides. In other words, those floors were effectively inaccessible without some serious work, which was far from ideal. Above those were floors that, while clear of any of that metallic sludge, had an equally hostile environment; swarms of those disturbing constructs stalked the top three floors, oddly resembling some kind of poorly-structured woodworking pieces. He was planning on relaying some of this information back, but two even more vital pieces of info hit him in this precise moment.

The first thing he noticed, and the one that concerned him far more, was the sight of Tandem in the top floor, and getting a better look as his vision paused on the frame before him, he caught a better view of a gathering of civilians in the corner of the cubicle-ridden floor, clearly trembling and anxious. He could relate, though given he was one of the people expected to get them out of this...That probably wasn't a good thing. More pressing, however, was the rise of another of those constructs, though this one was...Different. More imposing, built from sterner stuff, and even more importantly, with an awful screech that he could even make out while outside the building (thanks, enhanced hearing...), it barreled down on the slightly Ward. That was bad. Really bad. Like, really, really, really-!

His eyes caught something else; something so off-putting that it ever-so-briefly tore his attention from the threat at hand. Someone was charging their way down the stairwell towards the base floor. That was odd. If it was an escaped hostage, he imagined they'd be more cautious, if only due to paranoia and fright in the situation, but that silhouette pressed forward with determination; he could tell just from how they moved. So that was probably another member of Blackfire, right?! Crap, crap, crap...He should warn the team about that, but, the top floor...

Feeling as if he were about to choke on this indecision, his body had already reached the conclusion he sought. The stranger could be handled later, but right now, someone was in danger this very moment. Not to mention, the hostages also seemed to be cooped up there, which only added more incentive to this maneuver. His massive body pulled back in the air, gaining distance away from the building. They'd brought up before that the windows were reinforced, and the last thing he wanted was to go full-throttle and somehow get stopped by something as simple as glass. So, when he'd built up enough distance, he rocketed forward, growing momentum as the air current around him rushed violently, and in the last few moments, he tucked his wings behind his back, so as to avoid the fallout of the glass, and fully turned his body, going talons-first through the window.

For the onlookers that were Tandem and the hostages, it all happened so fast. One moment, there was a golem of stone and plastics threatening to crush the young girl, and with it, any hope of their rescue. The next...It got dark, unnaturally so, as darkness descended on one side of the room, as if the sun had decided to call it quits early today. Then came the violent shattering of glass as a colossal figure blasted into frame, small glittering shards of the windows flying haphazardly through the air and a massive gust of wind from the approach of this behemoth bird-thing, and in that very same moment, only Tandem was close enough to fully make out what happened.
In a blink-and-you-miss-it maneuver, one of Muninn's taloned feet latched onto the construct, gripping and tearing into it with ease. They could already cut into concrete before he'd nearly tripled in size, so it was no problem here, but he wasn't after nearly carving this thing apart. No, in that same breath of time, he pushed his massive form out of the new hole where the windows had once sat, and with all the force he could muster, flung the awful thing down, down, down to the ground, plummeting past floor after floor with violent velocity. It might've been made of stern stuff, but it wouldn't make it out of that.

After all the excitement, Muninn made it back into the top floor, though careful to position himself so as not to make contact with the small puddles of silvery liquid he'd noticed in his initial assault. His giant, pearlescent eyes landed firstly on Tandem as he spoke, his voice barely a whisper despite his gargantuan size. "I-Is...Is everyone alright...?" His gaze still lay squarely on his teammate for a moment, before quickly panning over to the civilians inside. Though, sadly, in the heat of it all, his mind had currently completely blanked on warning the others about that mystery figure heading downstairs...