Mintz

《 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...

Parahumans: Earth Drega

---

It had been a complete blur.

If someone asked Muninn what had happened in the past 10 minutes, he simply wouldn't have an answer for you; all he knew was that, somehow, he'd left the building they were in, and had been flying outside for the past few minutes, silently trailing the heavy-duty vehicle the rest of the team were on. That was one bit he vaguely recalled; however it was he made it outside, he didn't wait for a single word to exit an authority figure's mouth before he was airborne. He'd needed this after that miserable bombshell. Bad.

It gave him time to think. Mostly, think about how he was going to die a gruesome death or look like an utter moron in front of his team in the next few moments. What on Earth were they doing?! Trained Parahuman mercenaries, busting into a bank? This had to be a job for the Protectorate, not them! It was insane! His spiral into pure, utter panic continued as he silently glided through the sun-streaked skies, now much harder for the civilians below him to miss, given his massive size at the moment caused him to black out notable swathes of the city as he flew overhead. Yeah, his size situation hadn't improved much since leaving the building; while it was infinitely less suffocating out here than in there, it also gave him time to think about what he was getting into, which was slowly twisting his insides into a solid ball of sheer, abject horror. God, he'd never felt less sure of what he was doing than now...But he was here, whether he liked it or...No, there was no way of sugarcoating this. He pretty much felt like he was about to puke. This was awful.

And yet, he landed down all the same as their armored ride found itself outside the massive and imposing Bridgewater Bank. It felt extremely odd to be so obviously massive, and yet dwarfed by something else all the same, which was what he felt looking upon the utilitarian nightmare before him. Landon was positive he'd never seen a building so devoid of any emotion. At any rate...They were here. Through his comms (which were quite tricky to keep in his ears, he'd learned rather quickly; and his growth in size certainly hadn't helped that), he'd picked up the possible game plan laid out by the officers the rest of the squad had rode in with. They suggested that he, alongside Decree and Keystone, take a subtle approach and try to do their best to defuse the situation while avoiding any direct confrontations. That...Actually eased him up a bit, losing a few feet off his gargantuan form. That felt manageable, almost, and it involved one of the Wards that didn't hate him. At least, he felt vaguely confident she didn't. So that was progress!

His rising spirit was dampened back down to expectations when his team actually emerged, with Shattercrash directly referring to him. It felt very odd to have someone who felt as imposing as she was to look up at him, but, well...She would've had to do that even if he was in a more average state of things, so perhaps it wasn't as odd as he thought. Still, as she made her request for him to take flight and scout the building out, he couldn't help but flinch as she described how Champion would absolutely crush him if she even caught a glimpse of him. Not a confidence booster, to say the least. His size was around 20 feet at this point; monstrously large to the rest of the team, yet still comedically dwarfed by the building they were tasked with invading. For a moment, he wordlessly glanced over to Decree. He didn't know how she intended to tackle her place in the situation, so maybe he could wait with her and help wi-

His train of thought was utterly derailed when Shattercrash slammed her way into the bank, and with it, everything fired off at once. Keystone slipped away off to the backside of the building, while the Tandems all popped out of existence, probably entering the bank as well.

The commotion riled him up. Muninn needed to do something, if only to keep his mind off the fact that it was really, truly happening now. Without a sound, his giant wings spread out, and he took to the skies once more, making swift rounds around the building as he took in each sight with his razor-sharp eyes. He needed to find the hostages and the Blackburn mercenaries, so he could try and fill in his team as much as possible. In the interim, however, Landon remembered something important. "I-If anyone needs it, I can give a lift. I can get you wherever y-you need to be. Probably." Even in his enhanced size, if it were even possible, he sounded quieter than he had before. Still, the offer was made, and he knew should it come to that, he could handle it. Especially given his current physique, picking up a few teammates shouldn't be a hassle for him, and even with the scale of the bank building, it would only take him a few seconds to pass from story to story, so he could make for convenient travel for anyone who needed it.

The New Marvels: An Avengers Academy RP

---

Okay, what the actual FUCK was going on?! In a 'blink-and-you-miss-it' montage of mayhem, a goddamn mecha entered their airspace, some medieval RP reject came bolting out the back of the Quinjet with a giant sword screaming to high heaven right at her and her team, another guy was hurling freakin' fireballs at them, and there was some shortstack girl with metal claws gunning straight towards Kravinoff!

...Actually, that part was probably fine.

Eleanora spun her attention across the several moving pieces of the battlefield, her mind reeling for answers. Whatever train of thought she had got shattered when actual, honest-to-God missiles started approaching their vicinity. She panicked, honestly, but at least made the smart call-out. "HAZMAT!" Her teammate didn't waste any time turning skyward, where their leader's gaze was, and hastily raising her arms up as violent blasts of green energy tore through the sky and obliterated the explosive ordnance with spectacular force. Okay, one problem done. And also, a year or two of hearing on top of it, she'd bet. Admittedly, she'd forgotten about the flaming spheres hurtling towards them during the heat (heh) of all that, but luckily, her second-hand picked up the slack; blasts of sonic force roared out from Thunderwave, snuffing each and every strike that Elias was attempting. Of course, though, it was keeping a member on the defensive, which was pretty good by all standards. Okay, they'd bought her the breathing room she needed, the precious seconds she had before their vanguard made it here.

...And honestly, she used those first few moments to just wonder what in the HELL was going on! She'd expected almost anything, but this?! She didn't have a damn clue who any of these weirdoes were! At least if it were an actual Avengers team, she'd have some frame of reference. Who brought the High School Special Avengers squad?! Alright, enough time thinking on that. Time for the important stuff. "Trauma! Bird! Now!" She barked the order, offering no alternatives, and Terrance immediately complied as he scrambled onto the iridescent bird, which promptly took off. Obviously having a teammate leave the fight was a bad idea, but Terry was just a hindrance for everyone involved; or worse, a huge catastrophe waiting to happen. She was NOT dealing with that right now! God, she just hoped these morons were fine with one slipping away in the early chaos of this...
That left the two remaining threats, one of which was gonna handle itself, given her choice of target. That left big, tall, and stupid. Easy enough. As the gilded hero sprinted forward at, frankly, astonishing speeds for her, Sickly Sweet was quick to lean down and slam a hand into the ground. Without warning, the ground beneath Sigurd shifted, and just as abruptly, shot at an angle upwards, propelling him violently overhead of the 'villain' team using its momentum on top of his own. Of course, Elly had no clue that the proceeding fall from that would hardly do any real damage to the Half-Asgardian, but it sure as hell stalled him as he sailed over them, getting ready to crash and stumble through quite a bit of road. "Have a nice trip, see ya next fall!" She hollered to him mid-flight with a snicker. That (at least for the moment) was one obstacle out of her way. Now, though, she turned her gaze forward, eyeing up the fallen Quinjet. Maybe...

---

Before then, a different clash was about to occur. Anastasia eyed the approaching Wolverine with an upsetting glee, evident in her gaze and even her body itself, as if she was wound tight with anticipation of the confrontation. In fact, she certainly didn't wait for Laura; she ran to meet her head-on, as well, her boisterous laughter echoing throughout the chaotic streets as she rushed with her spear by her side. When the Mutant Hero made her move, launching off a nearby vehicle and lunging for Kraven, she readied her stance. With clinical precision, she brought the head of her spear to bear, easily piercing into her, the piercing tip sliding right past her metal-clad ribcage and digging in deep. However, before it could pierce through all the way, Kravinoff had different plans. With Laura's momentum still carrying her, Ana maneuvered her spear to hurl the Wolverine behind her, just before her claws could make contact with her, sending the Mutant skidding against the streets with an ugly smear of blood following behind it...Though of course, the source of that trail hardly lasted long.

Kraven The Hunter eyed her prey up, equal parts intrigued and confused. This...Was a Wolverine, but it was not the Wolverine. There was plenty to tell her that, but even before seeing her up-close, it was their scent that spoke to her. This was not Logan. Walking closer to her briefly felled quarry, she made only one remark. "What are you, exactly, little honey badger?"

Parahumans: Earth Drega

---

Okay, that was it; if he wasn't already officially shook, then the next few introductions definitely sealed the deal.

First to speak up past him was the one with the mask that freaked him out, though before that was a definitive bash against his pathetic attempt at humor. Landon didn't recoil or anything of that sort, or even start growing again from a spike in tension; it had been expected, but hearing someone bring it up like that caused in to deflate, what energy he had managed to put forth for his introduction violently sucked out from him. Yeah, he probably would've just been better off staying quiet, right? He'd hardly said anything important, anyhow. Still, perhaps it didn't hurt as much simply because somebody was trying to be in his corner; it might not've seemed like much to anyone, maybe even Faith herself, but a smile and a thumbs-up were a vote of confidence that, however unearned it felt for him, went nonetheless appreciated.
He didn't get to dwell on it for long, however, as the masked boy continued forward with his own description of his power, which...Certainly changed things. Wow, that sounded...Just awful. Landon could barely contend with his own shortcomings; trying to grapple with that from everyone else in his vicinity? He couldn't even fathom it. And yet, here someone was who did have to do it, without pause. However, he couldn't help but widen his eyes in fear as he started pointing across the room at one of the Wards, describing their weaknesses. Oh please, please don't....

...But when he did point at Landon, it was mercifully impersonal. Just about his bone structure, which honestly, he'd already figured. Something as big as him flying definitely would need hollow bones or ungodly powerful wings; of which his form possessed both, admittedly, so perhaps if his power was kinder it wouldn't have given his bones the density of a wooden table, but it was what it was. Internally, he gave an exhalation of relief. He could've imagined a lot worse stuff coming from him.
However, whatever thankfulness Landon possessed from that choice in words was quickly dashed as Keystone abruptly held himself hostage, a knife teetering at the edge of his throat. His already massive eyes somehow widened more, as his fur stood up in shock, watching the situation with mounting terror. Though, it was mercifully brief situation, dropping the tension the moment the bladed instrument did the same. Okay, so he was way too intense for himself, he could say with confidence. Still...He definitely felt as if he'd judged him far too quickly. Was he a good person? Well, that was far harder to say, but...He didn't act out without reasoning, and he wasn't being overtly malicious. Landon could take a small victory.

...He got a much different vibe from the new voice joining in, however. The one in the catsuit. She'd introduced herself as Ethos, but quickly brushed things off...That is, until people were openly sharing their abilities. Something about that must've set her off, because, well...To put it bluntly, she was acting quite unpleasantly. Her choice of words in how she described her ability brought a twisted knot to Muninn's stomach. If he were to compare how it sounded to the other Masters he knew of, where Claire numbed you, and Faith gave you a push, Ethos, well...She scrambled you entirely. What a horrifying thought, to be something so utterly not you. Especially to Landon, who was still so uncertain as to who he wanted - or needed - to be. When she had finished her piece, Landon hadn't even noticed, but he'd grown considerably; nearly a foot in size, and had instinctually taken steps away from Ethos. She wasn't the sort of individual he wanted to associate himself with, he could say that much!

Especially because of all that vulgar language, too.

That just made him all the more thankful for who spoke up next, the yellow-and-black armored one who, for one, seemed to share his sentiments on Keystone, though was more verbal about them, and also gave a mercifully short and non-hostile introduction. Hornet was a pretty cool name, he thought, and fit her power quite nicely; to pop up and strike when one least expects it, just like the titular insect. Granted, he imagined it would also be a pretty startling power to have used near you...He'd just have to get used to it, though. There was a lot he was going to have to get used to. Muninn was still noticeably enlarged, but at least this introduction had done nothing to cause it to spiral any further.

The next one, however...

It was brief; startlingly so. He had walked up, dropped his name, and Landon watched in abject horror as he watched a coin get obliterated from existence. Only to then be followed by the suggestion that they keep a distance from him, since it couldn't be turned off.

What?!

That had to mean...He could do it to...To people? Just break them apart into nothingness? Or would it be more...His run-off imagination nearly brought him to a gut-hurling experience, and he quickly turned his attention directly away from Richter, as if keeping him out of sight would prevent Landon from considering those implications yet again. Okay, new other person he wanted to avoid! At least it was nothing personal, this time, but he would've been lying if he wasn't absolutely freaked out by the flexing of such a power. He had grown, yet again. Probably close to 14 feet in height now, and trying even more desperately to keep his ever-growing mass as hunched and unnoticeable as possible. It wasn't going very well. And somehow, despite quite literally having grown a few heads taller, Landon himself seemed unaware of the changes beyond his innate instinct to keep himself as small as possible.

It didn't help when it was back to the loud, abrasive girl. Shattercrash was her name, right? His body tensed up when her voice raised against Ethos, brutally telling her off for her own shitty attitude. Perhaps some people could've taken solace in the face of watching Ethos getting put down, but for Muninn, he was just getting more concerned that they were all so riled up about all of this. Weren't they supposed to be teammates? Sure, they'd just all met properly for the first time, but...It didn't feel very team-like right now. Especially when Muninn was scared about approaching nearly half the group so far.
His feelings weren't assuaged when Shattercrash (perhaps predictably, if he'd thought more about it), gave a more direct display of what she was capable of, abruptly firing off a bright pink blast of concussive force at the wall, causing a shudder to pass through the room as it dispersed. The abrupt shot was more than enough to set Landon off again, though he did his best to keep it non-verbal...But couldn't surprise a quiet, bird-like squawk of surprise when the attack was launched. Welp, that at least told him that they either totally missed his nonverbal request from prior, or more concerningly, that they might have understood it and willfully startled him anyhow.

This really wasn't his day.

Still, the demonstration was made, and her capabilities made apparent. She could shoot blasts of energy and perform physical feats so absurd he couldn't even imagine it. He knew for sure he couldn't jump high enough to reach a helicopter, much less kick a steel vault door open. It was equally impressive as it was intimidating. He had shot up again. 15- or, no - more like 16 foot now. Things were getting a mite bit out of control, though he was still just as clueless.

Out of nowhere, it seemed Mr. Grandmaster had received a call and departed from the scene, leaving them under the watch of Ms. Axiom. That, honestly, was an improvement for him. Even the room simply lacking the intimidating presence of the Protectorate leader managed to chill him out just a smidge, bringing him back closer in line to 14 feet. Speaking of Ms. Axiom, she asked if there were any other questions, and also took the time to outline what the rest of the day, and tomorrow, would look like. So they weren't doing anything today? Whew! Honestly, that alone took another weight off his shoulders; he was almost able to forget all the other mortifying things that had happened in recent succession, pushing his size back down again; 12 foot. He could handle looking at a schedule. And patrols shouldn't be too bad, right? They'd be supervised, and they'd have each other, and heck, even the nature of a patrol meant that some days you might not run into anything. Landon felt as if the winds were reaching his sails again. Everything felt so much more manageable now!
Pleased with the turn of events, his eyes briefly shifted into those happy little crescents again before dropping back into their full-moon neutral expression. He didn't have any special questions; not off the top of his head, at least. So...He was off the hook, for now! Landon was partway through approaching that all-too-comfortable couch once more, but was cut off by the very sudden arrival of a familiar face.

"AH!"

Embarrassingly enough, this made the second time Muninn nearly jumped out of his skin; and this time around, he felt even worse about it, given that he had gotten startled by someone so diminutive. Er, not that that was a bad thing, or something, just...Especially given his own size in this state, it struck him just how small she was, even in comparison to the other, normal-sized Wards. However, when he picked up that Hornet had gotten startled by the same experience, it helped him feel a little less bashful over the experience. Still, the shocking nature of it had caused one of his shifts, getting a little closer to 13 feet once again as his fur and feathers puffed out. "Um, what is it they...?" Lost in his own thoughts for a moment, Muninn was speaking more to himself and Tandem before he came to his conclusion with a start. "Right! Um, ditto. To her point." He bashfully pointed a claw towards Hornet; a little warning next time would go a long way. He took the moment after this to consider her point. His...Size change? What? Was-was that a thing he did?! Evidently coming to that conclusion for the first time, Tandem could watch his huge eyes widen once more, and hastily give his form a twice-over.

...She was right! He was bigger! But...But how?! This never happened before? Granted, well, he hadn't tested much with this form, and Claire was always around to make sure he didn't start freaking out too much. Maybe that had something to do with it? Still, suddenly realizing he was still under the scrutiny of his fellow Ward, he finally spoke on the matter. "Oh, uh...I...I honestly didn't know that happened. Until you, you know, pointed it out. Hehe...Heh..." He laughed a dry, nervous laugh, awkwardly scratching at one of his arms. Look at him; he'd rattled off all that crap about his power, and then he just got sucker-punched by a new part of it. Now he really must've looked stupid...
Still, there was another thing she'd rattled off. Something about a...Mothman? Oh! That actually got a laugh out of Landon; brief and quiet, but an honest laugh all the same. "Oh. That! Well, when I fly around at night, it's really hard to make out anything except the eyes. Cause I'm all dark." He shuffled in a circle, as if to show off himself and prove the statement correct; he wasn't wrong. His feathers and fur were pitch-black, and even the greens of his arms were dull and muted. It'd be hard looking at any of this in the darkness. "So, uh, my eyes were the only thing people saw, and, well...Bright-eyed spooky thing flying around at night? It would be fair to call it a mothman, I suppose..." He...Wasn't all too sure about that. Honestly, he hadn't even known about mothman until he heard people calling him that in the past. What an awkward question to Claire that had been...Especially since she hadn't known anything either.

The last bit of her questioning brought a new rising anxiety in him. Flying around in the daytime? Heh...Well, it'd be inevitable now, but that didn't change how terrified he was of the idea. What would people think when they honestly saw him like this, Ward or no? Some freakish bird monster that silently flew in the skies, watching over them like a hawk. Heck, thinking of that to himself was enough to raise his own paranoia a notch, and he was talking about himself! "W-well....I, uh, I imagine I'll have to be doing that soon anyhow. So...I think the problem will solve itself? Hopefully..." He didn't sound very hopeful.
The conversation they were holding, and, indeed, any conversation being held at all, was cut abruptly short by the arrival of a crisply dressed man, though otherwise plain in appearance, beyond the fact that, well...Putting it nicely, his expression was dire. Landon's attention turned to the newcomer, equally confused and concerned. Something told him things were about to get bad...

---

The Vice Director | PRT Headquarters, Meeting Room |
June 19, 2021, 9:10 AM

---

Talk about a load of shit. Even as he unceremoniously barged his way into the meeting room, the Vice-Director couldn't even be bothered to mask the exhaustion and disappointment across his otherwise measured expression. It was one thing getting late to this all-important shindig because of completely shit traffic. It was another thing to be told about a crime in-progress the moment you walked through the damn doors. And it was another thing entirely to...

He just sighed. His eyes scanned the room, because that was all he needed to judge the situation. Looks like they'd handled the chit-chat section of things, but he was about to throw them a meteoric curve-ball, and he wasn't pleased in the slightest. First, though, he could at least introduce himself.
"The name's Vice Director Fukuda, if you aren't familiar with me. Which, in an ideal world, you won't be. The actual Director uses me to handle all the dirty work." He gave a grin, but it lacked any mirth to speak of, with it drawn tight and getting closer to a grimace by the second. Luckily, it was broken by an undeniable frown. Or, maybe that wasn't lucky? Well, it was better than looking at that depressing-ass grin, at least. He looked past the teenage angst to lock eyes with Axiom and Nightstalker, giving what could best be described as an apologetic shrug before he pushed forward. "I don't know what Axiom's been telling everyone, but a change of plans hit. Grandmaster seems to think you're all ready to swing for the fences," he said coolly, yet again glancing across the mass of the Wards. The look didn't offer that he had any confidence in that sentiment, but he pressed on nonetheless. "so you're all slated to handle a commotion we've got; the robbery of a local bank. By a trained, powered mercenary group. Not exactly a typical starter mission..." He almost growled that last bit to himself, but didn't quiet it enough to prevent the kids from picking it up. Not that he cared; he'd made it very clear he was against this idea on a hundred different levels, but...Well, the Director had the final say, and she seemed to be convinced.

Somehow.

After briefly glancing away from the crowd with his thinly-veiled animosity towards the situation, he looked back upon the Wards. "Axiom and Nightstalker can get you all prepped; you're shipping out in ten." He'd done his part, damn him to hell. With that, he casually made his way over to the nearest chair, plopped his ass in, and took out a cigarette and lighter in one smooth motion, lighting it up. You know, there was one thing he was thankful for; being here meant he was away from the one person he knew would actively try to nag him out of this awful habit. That, at least, brought the smallest of smiles to his face.

---

For Muninn's part, as far as the two people nearest to him, Decree and Tandem, were concerned, he seemed to have become completely statue-like. And just about doubled in size as all that escaped him was a monstrous wheeze of exertion, whether from trying not to let out a full-on screech over the new development or over the general shock of shooting up to nearly 24 feet in what had almost looked like a single second of activity, it was impossible to say.

Well, his hunch had been right!

Parahumans: Earth Drega

---

In a weird sense, Landon was almost thankful for the (admittedly very frightening) arrival of Shattercrash, as it made the fact that he recoiled one of his giant wings from the mere touch of Decree a mere footnote on the mountain of other messes that immediately occurred afterwards. A burning sense of shame was starting to eat through him, given that very poor display. What an introduction; crying like a little baby at a loud noise and curling up into a ball. Sadly, though, it was simply instinctual. Hell, the noise was still ringing audibly in his canid ears, leaving his head pounding. Still, there were silver linings...Like the fact that all this built-up stress was actually growing him out a bit more, and with that, more of his lovely noise-cancelling fur and feathers, aiding to shut him out from whatever may be going on outside his bubble.

For a time, all Landon could hear was the collage of barely-audible voices from, what he assumed, were his fellow Wards. What snapped him out of it was when Ms. Axiom began to speak up; even when he could only just hear her, he could instantly tell it wasn't one of them, and it was enough to make him barely poke his head out, which...Made it astonishingly obvious. Yes, somehow, Landon had grown since he had last shown that featureless face of his, by at least a few feet. All the piling up tension and anxiety was really getting to him! But as Axiom unmasked herself and tried her best to ease the energy of the room. For Landon, at least, it worked; while a knot certainly grew in his stomach at the comment that, one day, they would have to stand alone, he took great comfort that those with seniority in both age and experience would be there to protect and guide them, for as long as they could. Just as suddenly as he had seemed to shoot up in size, the others could also visually see him downsize, getting just about to where he was a few minutes ago; perhaps even a smidge smaller. His eyes were definitely on the adults now.

...However, embarrassing as it was, there was a brief spike in his activity once more when Grandmaster spoke a single, simple statement. Their training...How could he forget? Sure, they'd figured out pretty quickly that as far as his actual powerset went, Landon had an astonishingly firm grasp on it, but when they tried to actually make him combat ready? He froze up. Made a fool of himself. He...He was scared. He was terrible at confrontations, and a fight was that and so, so much more. And so much worse! Even then, though, he had managed to pick up a thing or two. He just hoped it'd be enough for him not to be a deadweight on the team...

When the next voice spoke up, Landon's body instinctually bristled. It recognized that voice; the loud one who'd slammed in here without a care in the world. His eyes darted quickly to look them over. She was...Well, she was as colorful as she was loud, is how he'd put it. It was more purple than he'd ever seen on a single thing in his life, from her hair to costume, which looked closer to a SWAT suit than the ol' cape and spandex. There was also that scar, running across the bridge of her nose. He couldn't imagine what would've caused an injury like that, though...In fairness, he'd never really been injured before, especially not so badly as to gain a scar. Her words, however, are what caught him the most. Really? The training hadn't done anything for her? That was...An intimidating prospect. For him, however brief his time training had been thus far, it was a grueling ordeal. To imagine somebody so nonplussed about it made him feel all that much smaller.

...Which made it quite ironic that that mounting tension in his body caused him to grow out a bit once more, new feathers and fresh patches of fur growing in as his body grew out just that bit more.

Still, her question hadn't gone unnoticed, and two people had already answered her. One was...Um, wait. Were there...Three of her? His eyes darted to and fro, uncertain as to whom he should be looking at. Would it be rude if he looked at the wrong one? Or was there even a 'wrong' one? What would it even be like, having multiples of yourself?...He knew he certainly wouldn't like the idea of more of himself, at least. Though at least then, he'd have someone who'd get what all this stuff feels like. Briefly shaking his head, Landon tried to focus himself on what exactly she was talking about. Powers, yeah! So, she could put stuff away into a little pocket space or some such, and have it pop out anywhere amongst her three selves, which (thankfully for him) she clarified as all being 'her'. So they were all the right one! It was pretty much impossible to catch underneath all his fur, but Landon gave a sigh of relief. There was more she was starting to say, but it seemed she had cut herself off, perhaps wanting to avoid rambling. He could get that. However, what he didn't expect was when she began bringing out several bags of candy. Where had she gotten it all?...Would he even want to know? Still, it was a nice gesture, and....Well, he hadn't gotten to eat anything before he headed out.

With a disturbing lack of noise, Muninn rose from the couch, towering over the other residents of the room. He very tentatively approached Tandem, his pearlescent eyes wavering with concern. Both that he'd make a full of himself, or that he might end up scaring somebody; especially the person in question that he had approached. "Are...Are you sure? I can try one?" Once she gave her assent, he very cautiously picked out a small taffy of sorts, which looked comically small trapped between his talons. To be honest, Landon was dreadfully curious how this would taste. He'd never really had sweets before...After fumbling with the wrapper for a brief moment, he had freed his treat, and hastily popped it into his...Fur? Well, it did make it to his mouth, but he ate it this way so he didn't have to show it off. Of all the parts of this form, that thing really freaked him out. It had even given Claire a start when she first saw it, and he understood how bad of a sign that had to be. So...Better if it stayed tucked behind all the fluft.

Landon went about chewing down the sweet, and you could see his large eyes somehow growing larger. They were called 'sweets', but having never had much of anything sweet in his life, it was like a explosion in his mouth. To the point where, at first, he even staggered back a bit, as if physically struck. The striking sensation he was experiencing was even enough to pull away from his stress and fears, bringing him down to size and evening him back out to about how he looked prior to Shattercrash's abrupt arrival. When he finished it, however, he realized he'd almost forgotten to show his appreciation. While it was definitely too polite of a showing for such a small action, the nearly 13-foot birdman gave a deep bow. "Th-thank you! Very much!" Landon was a lot of things, but impolite was never one of them.

Shortly afterwards, however, his attention was stripped away as the girl he'd been speaking to prior, Faith (or rather, Decree; what a cool-sounding Cape name!), gave her piece. Her power was...Honestly, given his experience from before, exactly what he would've expected. So, her words can hold sway over people...No wonder she'd been stressed out before, worrying about what she could've done to him. Still, what caught him even more off-guard was the mention of earpieces. Wait, when did...? Oh. It might've been around where he had...Curled into a ball. Again. His ears drooped in quiet shame upon the realization, but he pushed past it, picking up one of the fancy boxes that held these earpieces. How...Would these work for him? Sure, it wasn't like he didn't have ears, but they weren't exactly human ones, either....A sudden spine-tingling realization crossed his mind. Was his brain even human when he was like this?! With a new onset of terror, whatever the sweet had done to bring him down to ground level had been left in the dust, another abrupt spurt of growth showing up as he quietly pondered that terrifying implication. The whole time he pondered such a thing, he never even moved to open the casing and take his earpieces. He probably should've, but...Well, he only had Decree to worry about, right? If what she'd tried earlier was the norm, then he didn't feel too concerned. And besides, it felt cruel to him, practically calling her out by having these things be a necessity for their team. So, for now, he'd leave it be....Though if one of the adults pushed for it, he'd no doubt scurry to put them in however he could manage.

Recognizing the lull of activity after Decree gave up her power, Muninn realized this could be a chance for his own introduction. But...Could he honestly do that? Maybe he'd be better off if he...No! Nope! Those thoughts were the exact kind of things Claire had warned him about! Giving himself a quick pat to the head to snap him into things, he (albeit with no small amount of reluctance), spoke. "Ah....I, well...I think it's a bit self-explanatory. I have wings. I, uh, can fly. Pretty well, I think! I'm stronger than a normal person, though, um...I'm not sure by how much. I haven't tried that hard in...In those regards." His giant pale eyes darted nervously across the myriad faces around him, anxious for reactions. Wait! No! He could still say more stuff! Maybe it'd be important! "Oh! Uh, my fur? I-It kinda works like a sound muffler. I think...It's why I still sound so quiet, even though I'm so big. Vocally, I mean. When it comes to moving around and the like, I'm completely silent. Same with my feathers, like an owl, almost. Though, I can't do the whole, um...Y'know..." Nervously, he twists his head as far as he could, showing that he could not, in fact, rotate his head like an owl's. God, if he could, he'd be even more scared of himself. He gave a pathetic little laugh at his best attempt at a joke.

"Ah!" Landon started up again, dropping as much as he could before he was inevitably shot down and likely skulked back into the shadows - of both this room, and of the conversation. He pointed out his eyes and ears. "I have a...Kind of night vision? I'm...I'm not entirely sure how to explain it, but I can see well in the dark. And my ears are sharp, too! A...Little too sharp." His big eyes glanced towards Shattercrash, not quite accusingly, but...More like pleadingly, as if to say 'Please, don't do that again. Please.' Lastly, he flexed his arms out a bit, showing them in all their unusually scaly glory. "Parts of me that aren't covered up already are, um...Like this. The scales are pretty tough. And my talons, uh, can cut through quite a lot. I'd...Rather not give an example though."

Alright, he'd said his piece. Awkwardly, given his staggering size, Muninn shuffled away from the center of attention. In fact, were it not for him clearly standing heads and shoulders above her, it'd almost look like he was shadowing Decree, as if using her like a barrier between himself and whatever future conversation broke out.