[h1][img]http://i1383.photobucket.com/albums/ah281/Q-C0ntinuum/dpickle_zpsx9ir6vhj.jpg?t=1445046533[/img] dpickle[/h1]

[hider=Patrick]
[u]General Bio[/u]
Name:Patrick Anderson
Age:62
Gender:Male
Appearance: Pat stands at 5'10'' but is usually hunched over making him appear shorter. He weighs 150 pounds. He has deep wrinkles all over his face making him appear older than he actually is. His hear is a mix of gray and white and is kept quite short. He has a paler than normal skin tone. He commonly wears a sweater, usually of a darker color such as black, dark red, or dark green, with khakis, even in warm weather. 

[u]Superpower[/u] 
Name of ability:Pain Manipulation
Description:Pat is able to cause any pain he feels to be felt by others. He can also (eventually) do this with other peoples pain as well. The pain is applied to the same part of the body Pat would feel it, so if Pat got shot in the arm, he could make other people feel as though they got shot in the arm. Range and efficiency or the ability increase with practice.
Level one abilities:Anyone within two or three feet of Pat will feel a lesser version of whatever pain he is feeling. This aura is uncontrollable and will only turn off if he is knocked unconscious, although with effort the radius can be reduced. With focus, he can make a single person feel an equal amount of pain he is currently feeling. At this level, the effect requires physical contact to have any real potency.
Level three abilities: Range is improved (although the effect is still severely weakened with distance) and the pain can be split among multiple people. Splitting also reduces efficiency significantly. Pat can turn the automatic pain aura off with little effort.
Level five abilities: Range and number of potential targets improved. (placeholder for something else)
Weakness/drawback: Until he gains true mastery of his power, it is fairly useless if he's not in any pain himself. It can not be used to kill in any way.

It is worth noting that there is a Pat's Power discussion on Titanpad that can be read if more info is needed. Some things still aren't finalized (such as what he gets (if anything) at level 5 but that's far enough away that it doesn't really matter)

[u]History[/u]
Pat was a pretty average person in his early years. His parents were farmers and he lived in a rural community on the countryside. He was quiet and well behaved in school, earning above average but not stellar marks, and spent his free time helping out with the chores at home or playing outside with some of his friends. After high school, he decided to move to the city, hoping to find a better job than his small town could provide. Ironically, he ended up accidentally following in his father's footsteps by becoming a gardener for one of the parks in the city. The park was by far Pat's favorite part of the city, his rural origins causing him to vastly prefer the greens of the park to the greys of the urban landscape. The pay wasn't great, but it was enough to afford an apartment near his worksite as well as frequent nights out with some friends at the local bar. This continued for many years and Pat was content, if a little bit bored, with his lifestyle. Everything changed on the day of his first migraine. 

It started out as a day like any other. Pat got out of bed, poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down to watch the news on TV. After a few minutes of watching television he started to feel a headache coming on, but Pat just attributed it to still being sleepy after waking up and continued watching television. In a few more minutes, Pat had a throbbing headache. Thinking he had the flu, Pat got up to go phone in sick for work but at that moment the full force of the migraine struck. The searing pain he felt race through his head caused Pat's legs to give out as he collapsed back onto the couch. Pat lay curled up on the couch, his eyes squeezed shut, as he tried to weather the storm but the pain continued. After almost an hour like this Pat decided he needed to get medical attention. He slowly got to his feet and staggered out of his apartment, where a neighbour found him and immediately called the ambulance. When Pat finally got to the hospital, the doctors gave him some painkillers, which dulled the pain a little, and told him the migraine should be gone within an hour. When the pain persisted they said it should be gone within the next few hours, then they said is should be gone by the end of the day. Six days of puzzled doctors and restless sleep later, the pain had finally faded away. The doctors explained it away as a freak migraine and that he should be fine to go back to work. Pat went back to work happily, joking about the experience with his coworkers and thought that the worst was behind him. Until two weeks later he had another one. 

After that, Pat's time was nearly equally split between sitting in his house with the blinds drawn closed trying to get some sleep during a migraine and bouncing from puzzled doctor to puzzled doctor trying to figure out what was wrong with him. Each of the doctors would give him some knew drug to try, but the general consensus was no one knew what was causing the migraines. Over time, Pat became more and more closed off from the outside world. Unable to work, Pat lived off disability checks from the government and spent much of his time reading in his home or just sitting in the park. He had to take an obscene amount of pills every day to try and keep his pain under control. While the drugs dulled the pain and allowed Pat to preform most task during a migraine, they were a long way off from stopping it. Pat got more and more distant from his friends, unable to spend the time and energy necessary to keep the relationships going.

TL;DR: Pat gets terrible migraines and no one knows why. This has lead him to live a very isolated life, with him spending most of his time in his apartment or at the park. 

[b]The day before the bus ride:[/b] Day two of the migraine. "Day two is always the worst." Pat thought to himself. In reality he thought this two himself the first day of the migraine and would likely tell himself this everyday until it ended. Pat knew all this, but somehow saying that the this day was the worst helped him carry on through the day, made him think it would be better soon. Pat slowly walked down the sidewalk, his hand in the pockets of his coat as he went along. It was ten in the morning and the streets were fairly quiet, or at least as quiet as they get in New York City. Loud noises increased the effects of a migraine, so traveling when there isn't much traffic became second nature for Pat. As Pat walked along, he could hear the rattle of the pill bottle in his pocket, shaking with every step he took. "A lot of help they are," Pat thought as the sound of a car driving by causes lances of pain to rush through his head. In his other pocket was the book he was currently reading, a fantasy novel almost a thousand pages long, a thin bookmark placed near the middle of it. The book was the reason for Pat's trek that morning as he planned to read it in the nearby park that he used to work at. The fresh air of the park always did more to help his migraine then pills ever did and the prospect of sitting down on a bench and continuing his novel was enough to get Pat to increase his pace. He was still in fairly good shape for his age, and his near daily trips to the library and park contributed greatly to that. "Yup, day two is the worst," Pat thought again as another car drove by him. Pat hurried along, desperate to lose himself in the quiet of the park and words of his book.[/hider]