Character you have created:
Jeremy Dayn

Alias:
Riot

Speech Color:
Tomato

Character Alignment:
Villain

Identity:
Jeremy’s real name is known to the police, so he’ll often use a fake name

Character Personality :
Even when using a fake persona, Jeremy’s personality rarely wavers. He’s gruff, imposing, intimidation, and a man of few words. Alcohol will loosen his tongue enough to enable him to make small talk, or complain about work to other bar patrons. His childhood often saw him drive other classmates away by reputation if not his own actions.

Due to his time in prison, which was partly caused by forming a gang, which got too much attention from heroes, he has not become more social with age. He works as a villain alone, unless said partner/employer is stronger than he is. That said, his ego will never permit him to outright become a henchman to a more powerful villain. He works for himself. He steals money for himself, and he’s the one who spends it. Nobody tells him what to do, unless they’ve come up with a plan and he deems them trustworthy.

Uniform/costume:
Jeremy has a round face, green eyes and a fairly small nose. He is bald, but has been known to don wigs of various colors and sizes when using fake names and IDs. As Riot, he wears no wigs, but dons either shades or goggles to hide his eyes, and wears a customised tactical vest to protect his chest, which he always hides in public under a jacket, coat, sweater or hoodie. His pants and shoes always vary, though he very rarely wears something other than sturdy boots.



Origin Info/Details:
Jeremy, from as young an age as he could remember, loved superheroes. He wanted to be a superhero. He took as many sports, athletics and martial arts classes as time allowed in his childhood because he wanted to be strong and fit just like a hero.

When he was thirteen, his mutation kicked in, and everything changed for him. He discovered that he was a mutant. A super-strong mutant. Yet…when he thought about being a hero with this power, the idea felt off. Helping people with their problems, and beating up bad guys was a nice fantasy when you’re powerless, but now he had the power to do that, it seemed like a silly, juvenile dream. It felt like joining the boy scouts.

While he was still in high school, Jeremy already started using his mutation for wrongdoings; taking things for himself and putting his enemies in the hospital. He missed a full year of high school due to being detained at a young offender’s institute. Thus, when he graduated, he couldn’t get a very good honest job. But so what? He didn’t need an honest job. He had the power to take what he wanted.

Calling himself ‘Riot’, and amassing a small gang of henchmen, he started a brief crime spree that largely consisted of breaking and entering jeweller’s shops, stealing money from drug dealers, and intercepting deals related to organised crime and taking everything. Less than three months later, he was beaten by a Hero and his whole gang went to prison. He served five years, having reduced his sentence by happily ratting out every organised criminal he’d learned the identity of.

When Jeremy was released, he lay low for a few months, and got a job for a haulage company. He hated every second of it, but he felt he had to wait until the law stopped watching him carefully.

This mundane chapter of his life ended when an associate of one of the men he snitched on made an attempt on his life. This was the opportunity Jeremy had been looking for. He took the attack and faked his death, living on the road afterwards until he was in a new State. He stole some money and used it to procure a brand new identity from the black market.

Having learned from some of the mistakes he made the first time, he once again started to steal things. The police didn’t take long to see the similarities in method. Riot was back, and this time he was smarter. To this day he’s never been caught since, and the only heroes to bother with him are small time ‘Boy Scouts’, of whom Riot has now killed several.

Villain Type:
Brick/Muscle

Power Level:
Street level

Powers:
-Incredible super strength
- Superhuman agility
-Superhuman durability
-Enhanced speed

Attributes (Select one at each category):



Weaknesses:
Jeremy’s control over his strength is not perfect. When he’s stressed, tense, panicked or in an adrenaline-fuelling situation, his grip will tighten, and any force he’s applying to anything will be increased a lot. Due to this, he does not dare drive, as he would be one case of road rage away from losing his steering wheel, gearstick and/or pedals. He also cannot use guns for this reason.

As a street-level villain, he’s also massively outclassed by City-level heroes and beyond. His durability may serve him well in a hand-to-hand fight, or to let a few stray chunks of concrete bounce off his back, but large projectiles (e.g. cars), stabbing weapons, firearms, and powers such as fire and lightning will kill him just like they’d kill anyone else.

Supporting Characters:
None (yet)

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:
Yes

Sample Post:
This café’s service was terrible. Jeremy had been waiting thirty minutes for a coffee and a club sandwich. It should not take this long to make a coffee and a club sandwich. He should know. He could make both, and he knew that as long as you had the ingredients, you could make them both in ten minutes easily. It wasn’t even that busy. He wasn’t the only one there, but it wasn’t mobbed. There were several empty tables. If he wasn’t hungry and in severe need of caffeine, he’d have left already.

Finally, his order came. He waved off the waitress’ apology.

”Don’t worry about it!” He reassured the poor, timid looking waitress, who no doubt wasn’t looking forward to delivering a late order to a large, imposing, serious-looking man.

Though the rest of Jeremy’s day carried on as normal, he couldn’t forget this. Though he was occupying himself in his apartment with movies, books and television, his mind was on the café for the rest of the day until the evening. The café closed at six pm, and the last of the staff should be out by eight, so at eight-thirty, Jeremy peeled off his wig, took off his jacket, donned a pair of goggles, and headed out, carrying the jacket and wig with him in a gym bag.

Riot reached the alleyway behind the café at nine pm on the dot, and set the gym bag down. While he ate his sandwich and coffee, he noticed that the café had CCTV. It wasn’t a stretch to say, therefore, that they had alarms too, though those were usually just on the doors and windows. Not many burglars think of using the rear wall. Punching holes in the wall, Riot grabbed the bricks and then pulled, until the wall started to crack. Just a…bit…more…give, and…Riot succeeded in pulling a large section of brickwork out of the wall, which he set down, then climbed into the hole he created.

He could see well enough from the lights of the street outside, so didn’t risk a torch and went straight for the cash register, ripping it open and taking the money inside. ’Consider that an apology,’ he thought to himself as he climbed back out the hole, took off the goggled, and retrieved the coat and wig from the bag, putting them on, and heading back out on to the street. They’d know that this crime was committed by Riot, but Jeremy had gotten away with it. He might need to stop using this wig around this part of town, however.

Character you have created: Silas Morano

Speech Color (Actually say what you're using): Silver

Character Alignment: Villain

Identity: Secret

Character Personality:
Silas presents himself as a charming individual. Well dressed, charismatic, and a sharp wit have allowed him to get by throughout his adult life without too much hassle. His voice is welcoming, although his mannerisms make him stand out at social events, if his sense of dress doesn't already do so. He refrains from drinking alcohol, no matter what the occasion is.

In reality and behind closed doors, Silas holds bitterness to those in a position of grand power, whether it be in politics or though business. No matter what industry, he could always tie their involvement back to something he finds abhorrent. He is manipulative, calculative, and twisted in his methods to eliminate those he believed did him wrong.

Deep within his mind exists a cruel personality that's desperate to recklessly enact his revenge, one that barely cares for whom it involves and is more than happy to slaughter everyone in his path. Knowing the problems his 'Passenger' causes, Silas willingly takes medication to hold him back.

Uniform/costume:



Origin Info/Details:
Silas unfortunately doesn't have a memory of his childhood home, his parents, or even any friends to think of. The earliest memory however, was being strapped into a table and continuously given a cocktail of chemicals, drugs, and electroshock in order to create something that would presumably benefit the world. The laboratory was in Switzerland, and the pharmaceutical company that hired the facility had envisioned a body that would be both a living bank of medical conditions and diseases, and a source for the solution the world had craved for decades.

Silas was subjected to such experiments and was given several deadly disease that had the potential to wipe out a large percentage of the population should it be allowed to spread. From Silas, his body became a source for treatment and cures, and allowed research to progress faster than originally anticipated.

Silas didn't see that side, the good that had come out of the never ending pain that was inflicted on him. Constant pain, emotional distraught, and with his memories continuously fading during his time, he never knew how long he was inside for or if there was an end to the misery.

That ending came during an electrical storm and was the result of a crucial deadline coming up. The scientists and overseers increased the voltage and the dosage, but when a thunder struck the main power generator, the facility's only test subject was given a prolonged electrical shock that lasted for several seconds. The electrical explosion freed the subject, and when the scientists prepared to secure their guinea pig, Silas cast them aside before suddenly blinking himself to the otherside of the room, to the sheer astonishment of everyone, including Silas.

The man glowed, and before he could comprehend what was going on, the 'Passenger' presented himself to Silas. Twisting his mind while opening his eyes to the reality of the situation, Silas subsequently began slaughtering every single person in the facility and smeared their blood on the wall. Room by room, he learned his potential, while directing his hatred to those who had caused him pain. With the Passenger encouraging him to dangerous levels, and with the psychotic man learning his tricks at a dangerous rate, Silas showed concern when the Passenger continuously pushed him to continue his rampage on a small town nearby.

He was close to starting the rampage when a combination of the cold storm and nearby civilians caused him to not only pass out before he arrived, but was administered widely distributed anti-psychotics that suppressed the Passenger's control. He found himself to be much calmer and more relaxed, although the bitterness remained. He saw the news of his actions the next day, and found a name that had caused him so much pain.

Stowing himself away and making his way to Lost Haven, and worked himself up the ladder. Starting as a humble worker, indistinguishable from the rest of the civilians, before landing himself in the financial sector, giving him perfect access to the most deplorable souls on the planet.

Hero Type (Select one): Mystic

Power Level (Select one below): World Level

Powers (Be Specific):













Attributes:

Resources: Large due to his finances and job

Weaknesses: Medication needs to be taken to keep him under relative control. Without it, he becomes more dangerous and reckless, but also more vulnerable as his awareness decreases.

"Sorry for the terrible nicknames, they weren't our choice.

"Yeah, they suck as-

"Language."

Ben's eyes are divided vertically, half gold and half brown.

Freya's eyes are divided vertically as well, half emerald green and half gold.

The two siblings looked up as the alarm went off in the attic of their three story house. It was a relatively bare area. A worn, comfortable couch, behind a stained brown coffee table with a flatscreen TV on the wall in front of it. Standing in the corner was a tall lamp with both lights on, a brown burlap sack filled with what appeared to be hundreds of marbles beneath it. There was a computer with a rolling chair in front of it. Other than that, the dark brown walls and floors were unadorned. The siblings looked at each other for a moment, Ben from their couch, Freya from her position at their computer, before he sighed. "I told you this would be a problem." Freya frowned, then stuck her tongue out at him as she swiveled back to the computer and began bringing up the securit cameras on the computer. "We had to show that we had power, and what better way to show it than with a victorian style house?"

"What better way to also say 'HEY, HERE WE ARE, WHY DON'T YOU ATTACK US?'" He replied, setting aside his copy of Don Quixote. "It was just getting good too." He grumbled, standing up and stretching.

Freya sent her eyes to the heavens, clicking on more security cameras. "Don't be such a baby. There's only twelve of them."

"'Only twelve', she says. As if she's the one who does most of the fighting. Any supers?"

"No. Well trained military types though. So take speed, bulletproof, and strength. I'll follow in that armor we got from the US military."

Ben looked at her incredulously as he walked over to the sack. "Are you nuts? It's, and I quote, 'Highly experimental and prone to failure'. Freya shrugged her shoulders, opening the attic door down. "It's better than staying up here like a damsel in distress, waiting for you to save me. Besides, you don't have time to argue this point. They're in the kitchen." Ben sighed in exasperation, pulling three orbs from the bag. They immediately attached to his right palm, twisting into place. He cracked his neck and hopped from foot to foot, sprinting quickly down the stairs, a blur past her.

He was in the kitchen in a heartbeat, rolling his shoulders. The masked men in his kitchen froze, looking at him. There were five of them, all with submachine guns. For a moment, the two sides just stared at each other, seizing their chances. Ben broke the silence with a grim smile. "I don't like uninvited strangers in my home." He lunged forward, grabbing one and slamming him headfirst into the ground. The man's neck snapped like a twig. Immediately, he threw the body into another man, sending them both through the wall. He didn't get back up. The other three leaped backwards, submachines firing. Ben raised an eyebrow as bullets bounced off his body, then rushed towards them.

For her part, Freya was arming herself on the second floor. Having opened their armory (with it's considerable amount of weaponry), she was strapping on the experimental armor the US military had given them in return for a shipment of orbs, forcing down her trepidation. Ben had been right when he said the armor was prone to failure. It was supposed to work like his bulletproof orb, but didn't always. A large amount of the test group had ended up shot anyways, the military seller had warned her. Still, she wasn't going to sit around while her brother did all the fighting, and took all the risks.

Holstering a pistol and grabbing an assault rifle, she made her way down the stairs. She calmly walked passed the shouting and fighting in the kitchen, Ben seemed to be enjoying himself,and brought up her gun. There were seven left, and they were aware that they had been discovered. She saw a flicker of movement in the doorway ahead of her (leading to her living room), and fired. As someone gave a cry of pain and crashed into the wall, she smiled. "Thank you, the many marines and ex-soldiers who posted themselves on youtube. A gun fired in the same room, bullets piercing through the wall, and she dove to the side, gasping in relief as her armor didn't fail her. Yet. "Oh, you cheeky little turd. You're still alive. She gathered herself, and moved into the room.

Ben had finished in the kitchen. There were limp bodies and holes everywhere, but at they could pay someone to fix that. He spun around as he heard more gunfire and the sounds of struggle from his livingroom. In an instant he was there, scanning the situation. Three bodies were on the ground, and Freya was in a fist fight with a fourth. Ben moved over behind her opponent and snapped his neck. Freya huffed at him, breathing hard. "I had him."

"Yeah you did. But we didn't have time for you to do that." Freya opened her mouth to give some acidic retort when a hissing noise made them both pause. "What's that? A section of the house exploded. Both Freya and Ben hit the ground as two more explosions rocked the house, a moment of silence coming. Cursing, Ben grabbed her and ran, leaping out the window. "RPGs? Really?!

The three remaining attackers all had them, and they were all aimed at the two Dover Twins. Ben didn't give them time to fire. He pushed Freya to the side, and race at them, yanking the weapons out of their hands before they could pull the triggers. Three quick blows later, their bodies joined the rest. Freya was glaring at the flaming remains of their house, muttering under her breath about all the lost orbs. Ben calmly walked up to her, raising an eyebrow at his shorter sister. "Well? What now?" She turned a baleful eye on him.

"Now? Now we find out who did this and we make them pay.

Knowledge is power they say. But knowledge also has a price,and some times, that price is high. Are you willing to pay that price?

Character you have created: John Anthony Black

Alias: Overseer

Speech Color (Actually say what you're using): BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE-7a0000

Character Alignment: Walking the Line- Though one might call him a villain as well, as he is a man of business ( Explanation ---->)

Age: 50

Identity: His true identity is not known as he works throw proxy's

Character Personality: "You ask me what I am like, what I believe in and how I handle others? Well...
I am some one that should not be taken lightly, for what ever reason. You see, you can tell a grate deal about some one just by watching how they act and move, there actions say more about them then words ever could. And then, there are their eyes... They say 'Eyes are the gateway to a persons soul'... You would be surprised buy how true that statement is though. If you look at some ones eyes long enough, you will see the true them under the mask, as every one wears a mask, even I do, but yet there are so little people that can look passed the masks that are our mundane lifes, less still that can comprehend what they see under them"

((I hope this is ok, as I am trying to describe his personality throw him telling a story to--insert who ever you want hear-- I dont really know how you guys will react or think of it, so if you guys say it needs to be changed then I will change it))

Uniform/costume: John often times can be seen in a 1930's looking suit, with a black west over a white shirt, matching black pants and black shoes, along with this he always has two, jet black, colt 1911's with him at all times






Origin Info/Details: Not much is known about the man called the Overseer, even less who he was before he took the title of Overseer. The little that is known about him is sketchy at best. Allegedly his real name is John Anthony Black and that he was born some where in Texas. Who ever tried to find out who the Overseer is, would start with the wary limited, almost none existent,clues about who he was. Many who had started down this path where stonewalled at the first obstacle, his family, none of them would be able to get around the fact that there was no Black family ANYWHERE in Texas, not even one trace. Normally this is where they would just give up, but the rare few that are able to get past this first obstacle would delve deeper in to the shadows following 'The yellow brick road' as it where. The rare ones that have gotten farther in to the shadows, they would find that there was a Black family, back in the 80's, though the family had died under odd circumstances. The family was a typical four member family, parents with two sons, David and John, they where a rather uninteresting family really... well other then how they died. The family was found in there home with multiple gunshot wounds, three to the chest and two to the head, though it was determinant that they where first killed before they where placed in to there home and burnt with it... though this is only true for three of the members of the family. John, the only presumed living member of the family, was thought to have bin abducted for unknown reasons, though this entire police report regarding the investigation had vanished, save for one copy filed away in the unresolved cases section of the PD archives, never to see the light of day. From there, any type of information regarding John was nearly nonexistent, the small amount that there was, was spread all over the continental US , from a gang in Seattle, to a drug cartel over in Florida. All tracks finally stopping in New York. The last bit of information that there is regarding John was that he was working for a low level information broker, this is the last time John Anthony Black would ever be heard off. The select few that have gotten to the end of the 'yellow brick road', be it throw grate effort of will or just luck, ether end up dead or vanish from the face of the earth, never to be seen or heard from again... Such is the power of the Overseer

Hero Type (Select one): Gray Matter- Who needs fancy powers or extreme weapons when I fully can and will out smart you.

Power Level (Select one below): World- Due to his occupation, he deals with a lot of moving parts all over the globe

Powers (Be Specific): N/A

Attributes (Select one at each category):



Resources: Extreme- Due to his occupation and his influence, he has access to a grate deal of funds, people and other things...

Weaknesses: You fill him full of led and he is dead

Supporting Characters: Due to his occupation, he has a grate many people that work for him as ether agents, proxy's or just messengers. Never the less, he has access to a grate many minions that do his biding (Do I need to be specific with this?)

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: An explanation would be nice pls

Sample Post (Minimum Four paragraphs containing dialogue. As this is an Advanced Level game, Sample must also meet the RPG forum's minimum requirement of 12 lines. Only for first time applicants.):

Overseer

Other person

New York, the big apple, or as some may call it, the starting point for any criminal. It was a typical, rainy day in NYC, with people going to and fro with their black umbrellas, glum looks on there faces and with phones in hands.
' I never really got the appeal of the smartphones that every one is using now a days, though they are certainly useful' John thought as he was sitting at a diner looking out the window at a teen passing buy, face buried deep in there smartphone. The diner was nothing of interest, a typical one that you would find even in a small town.
" Sir? You where saying?"
a voice brought him back out of his musings,
" Hm? A yes my apologys" he said as he turned to face the person one other side of the table again. The person in question was a reporter from the 'New York Times', a man by the name of Daniel Goodman, Daniel was a short man, in his mid thirty's, messy black hear, beady green eyes behind glasses, a rather square face, pointed chin with a goatee , a rather small tapered nose with a pale complexion, a rather unremarkable man to say the least.
"Yes well, the first day I had arrived hear in the big apple it was a day much like this one; cloudy, gloomy, every one going their own way, not really caring about anyone else but them self's at that specific moment"
John said as he took a sip of the black coffee he had ordered.
" Really? Where did you stay on that first night you had arrived hear in New York?" Goodman asked as he was recording everything on his phone. It had took Goodman a better part of the last two years tracking this man down, John Anthony Black, he was nearly killed two times, almost got hit buy a semi-truck, lost a tooth or two, and traveled all over the dame US, that is until he ended up back up in New York. About a week after he had gotten back from the 'little' trip of trying to track him down, he had been contacted buy the wary man him self, informing him that he had been keeping track of his progress and that he would like to arrange an interview. Daniel new, that if he could get this guys story, his FULL story, that not only would this be the scoop of the century but would make him the only man that really knew the true identity of the Overseer.
"Where did I stay you ask? Hmmm... if my memory serves me right, it was in the ally behind this weary diner "
John said with a whimsical smile on his weathered old face " The night was cold, and wet as you can imagine. I had spent about a week sleeping there, as I had next to no money with me. Most of the money I did have I would spend on what little food I could buy" John said as he took another sip of his coffee, as he did so, a young looking waitress arrived and refiled Goodman's glass of water, which he took a long drink of.
It is a bit hard to imagine that, seeing as you had risen so high up to the position that you now hold."
Goodman said as he listened to John with avid anticipation.
" Yes, I do guess it would be hard for some one to comprehend that with such a limited view such as yours, Daniel"
John said as he finished the last of his coffee. This entire time the expression on his face was one of friendliness, though now it was set in to one of cold seriousness
"Knowledge is power they say. But knowledge also has a price,and some times, that price is high."he said as he looked at the perplexed expression plastered on Daniels face
"Are you willing to pay that price?" As he finished that sentence, he got up from the booth that they where in leaving a hundred dollars on the table to pay the bill and leaving. It took Goodman a minute to realize what had just happened, though buy that point it was to little to late. A sudden pain griped his chest, he's breathing was getting harder and harder, till he simply collapsed on the table dead, by the moment Daniel Goodman had hit the table, John Anthony Black had already left, the door chime had already played its song.

---

The Gomez family is a vast net of men and women peasant farmers numbering well into fifty immediate members and an uncounted number of extended family and distant relatives. A matriarchal unit--a finding not uncommon among Colombia’s poor farmers where farmlands are often owned by the woman’s father and such ownership allocates power to women in ways that are inverse to traditional Western societies where men typically hold power in private and forum.

At the height of the “Colombian conflict”, that is, the ongoing guerrilla warfare between paramilitary groups and the resident Colombian drug cartels in the late eighties and early nineties, there spawned a new generation of drug barons and baronesses seeking to utilize the bloodshed in order to establish their own place within the booming cocaine trade. Men and women of all backgrounds: farmers, sewers, coca paste-makers, coffee bean harvesters, dishwashers, any and all persons who had more gut than wit flooded the fields of the Andes’ green with blood and bribery. This is the story of one such farmer boy and his bid for power.

We begin in 1979, where one Alejandro Gomez Jr. is born to Alejandro and Daniella Gomez. Alejandro Sr. a coffee harvester and Daniella, a seamstress; both--like many of Colombia’s disenfranchised--furnished a living for themselves and their son from less than a peso. Alejandro Sr. may be summed as a hard man, one who believed a man should be given no handouts--and if one’s wife was not working to help support the family, she was useless to him: “Si funciona, lo hace,” his mantra (“if it works, you do it.”) It is perhaps for this reason that Alejandro Sr.’s wife, a handsome woman herself, was given the nickname “el caballo.” (“the horse"); he preferred practicality over beauty. Alejandro Sr. never begot violence upon his only son, and for his stringent nature, knew when to be caring. These paternal traits would follow Alejandro Jr. throughout his own life.

Perhaps more important to young Alejandro’s development than his inheritance of his father’s traits were those bestowed on him by his mother. Patient, cold, warm, sharp. Daniella Gomez was in many ways more masculine than Alejandro senior. Daniella, too, was pragmatic but only insofar as her brand of ‘doing what worked’ was to pass to her children. Concerning matters outside of the family, Daniella was a dreamer, a romantic, an aspiring artist. Her ambition for painting and more delicate items in life sometimes clouded her judgement as it pertained to the empresa familiar that is, the family business. A coffee harvesting business which--during the time of the Gomez parents’--inadvertently became swept up in the drug wars which began to consume the countryside.

As exports, bananas and coffee beans were among the top two traded goods. A lucky farmer and his family could well strike rich if a year’s harvest was abundant. Of course, this was contingent upon whether he could stave the interests and the pockets of the private corporations looking to buy up lands the Colombian government had not already annexed themselves (mainly mineral farms) or handed to the displaced indigenous peoples. The rise in drug related crime had a threefold effect: 1) banana and coffee farms suddenly became the face of legitimate and easy enterprise; farmland soil was natural to the climate and one did not have to worry about intrusion from law enforcement 2) the private corporations soon lost interest in “granja de sangra”, blood farms--the farms became a liability; there was no point in shoveling even cents on the dollar into the pockets of a hundred laborers if there was no guarantee the workforce was going to survive the day, 3) men and women who were once innocent farmers now had to learn how to fight in order to survive--either one was to lose his livelihood by force or he was to defend it with his life. This rapid shift in the culture of country life meant blood spilled for hundreds of old, defiant, and untrained laymen.

It meant too that Alejandro senior would have to suffer the same; Alejandro senior was unlike most other uneducated banana farmers, however--he would not grovel, but he would not resist without intent: he would reason with these barons. All he needed was a little luck; when resident paramilitary head--who lead what was publicly the most corrupt regime of paramilitary troops in the hills of Colombia, only known to other local farmers as ”El Aguila” inevitably showed up to Alejandro senior’s lot, Alejandro pleaded with rightful dignity:

“Papa, no hay ninguna razòn para matar a mí, podemos hacer un trato.” Alejandro met The Eagle outside of his cottage and put forth his intentions right away. It was best to be straight with a man who could decimate your family and your livelihood with a flip of his finger. Alejandro senior continued,

“Aquí está mi trato. Sé que buscas reclutas, puedo unirme a ti y ayudarte a luchar. Usted tendrá el 30 por ciento de mi granja si me deja vivir. ¿cómo suena esto?”

‘The Eagle’ as the burly six foot general was called had taken a second to ponder. Many begged before the Eagle, real name William Leary, and for their insolent defeatism William had killed them. As heinous a reputation Leary garnished, the actual man was much shorter than myth made him and he was, as Alejandro senior came to find out, more lenient. He would let Alejandro senior live; in turn, Alejandro senior would not only get military training, he would retain partial ownership of his farm. It meant that his family would be secure for the future, and none of the other troops of the region would pester the Gomez farm for the duration of Alejandro senior’s service.

Many good things come with a price, and it was in the intervening five years--in which time Alejandro junior had turned ten, and Alejandro senior 35--that both men’s lives would diverge. It was now 1983. Alejandro senior had returned from his servitude to the local paramilitary chief and for his son he had lessons abundant. By 1983, the cocaine kings: Pablo Escobar, Carlos Lehder, Gilberto Rodriguez Orejuela, Daniel Barrerra Barrerra and queens: Griselda Blanco, Enedina Arellano Felix, Sandra Avila Beltrain, had all begun carving out much of Colombia’s hillside and flatland for the harvesting of coca leaves and subsequent production of cocaine. The collective rise of these cartel godfathers and mothers meant a virtual end for traditional farming in the Colombian countryside; it also meant that the large farm in which Alejandro had employed many of his relatives had to be evacuated for fear of their own safety. Of these, Alejandro senior elected to send: his only son, the youngest children, nephews, and nieces as well as his middle brother, Esteban..

Before their venture, Alejandro senior would train them as he had been trained: under a deal brokered with El Aguila, the Gomez farm was quarantined while the twelve youngest Gomez clan members were drilled in military tactics. Everything from the construction, deconstruction, and use of military grade weaponry to espionage, defensive and offensive tactical maneuvers, and a rigid physical training regimen requiring each of the children to go days without food and sleep. The young men and women from the Gomez clan were sculpted into ruthless soldiers--all this in exchange for El Aguila’s patronage and contacts in America--and, most important of all, Aguila’s own bid for power in the American cocaine epidemic.

By 1986, Escobar and the other drug lords had begun fighting a two fold war: one against rival cartels, the other against counterinsurgency leftist guerilla groups who sought to destroy the power the crime lords had established for themselves. This span of three years marked the completion of the Gomez kids’ training and their subsequent trip to America. It was, however, too soon to for Alejandro junior enact the deal forged between Aguilar, William Leary, and Alejandro junior’s father. Instead, Alejandro was sent to live with Leary’s Colombian-American contact, Don Bautista. Don Bautista earned his title formally, as a man of high political standing and a man who had made millions investing the Cuban sugar trade in the 1938 just before the second World War; he had sold his investment just before the war’s end, envisioning the inevitable crash which spawned from the European and American economic boom and the respective economies’ growing independent sugar trades.

It was while staying in the Bautista’s villa that Alejandro junior met and fell in love with the Don’s daughter, Manuela. She, too, was smitten by Alejandro II’s charm and gentlemanly fervor. When Alejandro junior turned twenty, Don Bautista granted Alejandro II’s request to marry Manuela and the two soon began a family young, like his father before him and Manuela’s mother before her. Of his original relatives who moved to the States with him, only Caspare (his first cousin) and Esteban (uncle) remained with him. The rest dispersed to normal lives; those intelligent enough found jobs in politics, banking, unions, they became doctors and lawyers as well. By early 1993, Manuela and Alejandro II had already birthed three of their seven kids within two years of one another. 1993 was also the death of Colombia’s undisputed cocaine kingpin, Pablo Escobar. Escobar’s death marked yet another transitional period in the South American drug trade; not only were trafficking routes now wide open for distributors and anyone willing to seize the void left by Escobar’s passing, the American government would now be seeking extraditions for hundreds of Colombian men and women who were thought to be lieutenants and high ranking members of Escobar’s empire. Many of these men and women were no more than associates. It meant once these men and women were released, there would be displaced Colombians seeking work; prime for helping Alejandro II establish a new life for himself and his relatives in the country.

By the end of 1998, Manuela had given birth to the last four Gomez children. Alejandro II, using Aguila and his contacts, had opened up a small fruit shop, one of the few Colombian owned businesses in the heart of Atlanta which got fresh Colombian imported goods: papaya, hass avocado, Lulo, Tamarillo, Pitayas, Zapote, among other things. Exotic imports were nothing unique in American landscape--this was one of the many unseen drawbacks of the extremely multiethnic culture America possessed: what would be exotic in another country is common,, people of all ethnicities brought their culture to the land of the Free and so no element of any culture was entirely unique. This was also America’s beauty; anyone from any culture could come and participate in the dream she offered in any way he pleased--so long as he was ready to suffer the consequences.

Alejandro II would find this out like everyone else when an unlisted package showed up on his doorstep one evening; in black marker it was written: ”El amor del àguila” (“Love from the Eagle”). It was time to repay favors. Unlike the movies, the process was slow. None of Alejandro II’s kids were old enough to enter empresa familiar; as such, Caspare and Esteban would often watch Alejandro’s kids while he and Manuela sold small nickel and dime bags of cocaine on the streets. The Gomez children received a stringent upbringing similar to the one Alejandro II had; the use of weapons, espionage, tactics--Alejandro made sure his children would be able to survive the harsh world in which they were about to inhabit.

Without the manpower or weaponry, getting a foothold in the underworld would prove difficult. Nor did he have the money to sustain a large conglomerate of soldado to do his dirty work. Conventional corner hustling was dead; he would have to find a new way to feed himself and his large family. It hit him: the fruit.

Alejandro II and Manuela began their drug venture anew; for each pound of fruit imported to their small shop, less than a gram of cocaine would be placed in a batch of fruit and either re-packaged and shipped through the Gomez’ Colombian contact or sold to unknowing customers who often became returning customers thanks to the ‘potency’ of some of the fruit shop’s natural imports. The avocado in particular was said to have a nice ‘kick’. Alejandro II had found his niche, and soon made money enough to finance a hundred fruit shops. The money had finally come, but it had not come quick enough and he had yet to establish any contacts yet in America. Not only this, but times were changing; cocaine was not the de facto drug of choice any longer; Alejandro foresaw such, just as Don Bautista had taught him: ”ver el cambio” (“see change”)

By the dawn of the new millennium, Alejandro had established a network of drug contacts in Colombia, Peru, Turkey, Canada and Chilé. In the seven years between 1998 and 2005, Alejandro Jr.--now known as “Jefe”--had opened up a series of legitimate businesses by using the money he gained from his cocaine fruit operation to invest in cheap housing in low income ethnic neighborhoods and fixing the houses up. He would rent these houses to ignorant travelers for triple the market price and in turn invest that money into buying yet another house on the same street. Alejandro II continued the process until he had owned at least one house in nearly every impoverished neighborhood in Atlanta. And once again, before the housing market crash of 2008, Alejandro--like mentor Don Bautista foresaw the crash of the sugar trade--sold his investments to desperate homeowners before the bubble burst. Ver el cambio. Jefe Gomez, before the age of 35, had become one of the wealthiest Colombians in America. And none but his family knew of his more devious dealings.

But yet again, more change was to swallow the Gomez clan; the Pax Metahumana; strange men and women with abilities unexplained appeared. People who could lift tanks with a single arm, fly, run at speeds the naked eye could not perceive, and wield arcane energies made the life of the criminal difficult. Still, even criminals are sometimes blessed; barring family members who were not in the effected areas of the metahumana (Felix, Arianna, Angel, Tino), the other Gomez relatives were bestowed their own set of powers.

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Character you have created: Eddie, Just Eddie
Alias: Still just Eddie
Speech Color:
Character Alignment: Neutral? I kill shit.
Identity: Unknown, but not secret.
Character Personality: To clear up some of that ugly fog of miscnception. At the time of his Earth's destruction, it was the height of the 80s. Eddie himself is practically the human embodiment of what it means to be the 80s. Take everything that was cool in the 80s and bump it up a few notches, you know, turn it to eleven. His bravado is unmatched, he's a man with enough confidence to bullshit his way through any situation. Standing tall with his chin held high, he's the first to spit in the face of that incomprehensible dark cosmic god. His temper is short, his wit is quick, he'd rather put a man through a wall and make some witty quip before dealing with an issue.

There's few things that he loves more in this life than fast modes of transport, putting teeth down throats, and a good smoke. A few of those things that he, in fact, does love more than those include. Women, dinosaurs, aviator sunglasses, Conan the Barbarian, and black studded leather.

There's also a few things that he hates more than anything else. Ugly mugs that deserve punching, ignorance, folks who lay their hands on women, and beer. It really is the lowest grade of alcohol. Eddie is a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them. He's willing to do whatever it takes to get what he wants, and if he has to throw his wit around more than his fists he'll hop on that train to nowhere pretty quick.

The sheer amount of willpower he has is awe inspiring, the consistent level of pure indifference towards other people's wants and needs is spectacular. Fear is a word reserved for insults, not an emotion to be felt by Eddie.

Uniform/costume:
Face:
Pretty as nothing else. Just joshing you, old Eddie here has one mean mug. Big bushy mustache attached to even bigger bushier sideburns. Thick eyebrows that seem to hang off of his face. His eyebrows rest nicely on top of his aviators. His cheeks are thick and lined with frown lines that deepen sharply when he actually frowns. Resting atop his head is a long mop of hair that comes down past his shoulders, inspired by the man himself, Ronnie James Dio. His hair is black with touches of grey, Eddie is also piebald and the hair over his left eye is pure white. His brow has several creases along it, numbering between three and four depending on his expression. His left eye is a mechanical imitation, very terminator style.

Body: Spectacularly muscular with a beer gut, his skin's a dusty and dirty brown. Despite him being caucasian, with his facial hair and ugly face it's incredibly difficult to determine his race. His body has barely visible streaks of metallic flecks underneath his skin, they're usually invisible because of his body hair.

Clothes:
-Pearlescent aviators, crack on the left lense.
-Dusty Leather Jacket with patched elbows.
-Old Fashion Work Gloves, knuckles worn off exposing the dusty dirty knuckles beneath.
-Stained White T, big stain on the chest from a ballpark frank. Literally impossible to clean.
-Worn Black Jeans with torn up cuffs.
-Immaculately Clean Boots with steel spikes on the toes and heels.
Along with loads of gold chains, silver lockets, and the like. Fashion, of course. The only piece of his clothing that cannot be shown with a picture is his necklace of pierced ears. Held on by looped ear-rings. They are his most valuable posession.

Origin Info/Details:
The year was 1989, Planet Earth. Science had just created the new Tower of Babylon, a particle collider that was revolutionizing the material industries of mankind. They created a new material for construction and general use, called it Neo-Steel and everything was doing alright. Eddie was hauling a truckload of the stuff cross-country to deliver it to a construction site for a space ship, ready to move mankind into the space age well and truly.

The only problem is that Earth simply stopped existing about this time. No explanation, no warning, poof. Gone.

Some monumental amount of time later, or maybe it was literally instant, Eddie and his truck came bursting from the nothingness of the void in a fiery explosion of wrath. He and his Truck, Orion were changed into entities of pure elemental wrath, embodying the fires of creation and destruction.

They now ride from Multiverse to Multiverse, killing mean sons of bitches whenever and wherever they feel. Sometimes he sticks around for a long time, sometimes he just blows the planet up and walks away. But now Eddie's stumbled on a planet unlike anything he's ever seen before.

It's Earth, Eddie's seen plenty of Earths but this one's got comic book hoo-ha going on. "Crazy shit, man. Maybe I'll dig in for a little while."

Hero Type: Brick/Elemental
Power Level: Cosmic
Powers:
Bodily Generation of Flame: Definitely the most bizarre result of my mutation, but I've gained the ability to generate insane flame from my hands, feet and mouth. Strange that the generation of flame is localized, but I cannot complain. The fire I spew forth is hot enough to melt through the hull of most ships I've encountered, definitely melt through steel. Especially melts through the meat of most living organisms. I can project this flame hard enough to give myself limited flight, as well as push people away. Given that I'm a few hundred kilos heavier than I was before, I'd say it's more than enough force to push the wind out of a man's lungs even before it burns them to a crisp. The flames are pretty beautiful, all things considered. Tapering from a bright and vicious red at the top down to a subtle and barely visible yellow tone at the bottom.

The Feeling: I'm hooked on it baby. Seriously though, I can feel the strength in people. I can see into their hearts, see how much of a bastard they are. Some people have pure hearts and do terrible things because they want to, some people have evil hearts and do good things because they're guilty. It's not mind reading, I can't see your past. I just get a feel for whether or not you're doing something because you feel obligated or if you're just a bastard. Oh, it also lets me "see" someone no matter where they are around me. I can feel them anywhere around me, as long as it's within a few dozen meters.

Flame Proof: My home is the Devil Truck, Orion. A fire belching abomination of red hot steel and rage that rivals that of Hell itself. I can take a little heat, to say the least.

Invisible Flame Proof: Radiation is a bitch, unless you're me. My hair dancing in the solar winds and my skin basking in the wake of solar radiation is one of the wonderful delights of being me. The background radiation of the universe is a wonderful radio station, never the same song twice.

Space Proof: Pretty simple. I don't need to eat, don't need water, don't need to breathe. Tough enough to survive the vacuum and the cold, so I'm pretty set.

Wind Resistant: Able to withstand wind speeds great enough to pierce the heavens themselves. Quite literally pierce them, from time to time I ride atop Orion and into the void of space. Ain't a wind that can blow me down, ain't a wind that can blow my jacket off at that.

Body Changes: Upon his annihilation and reconstruction, Eddie was infused with a superbly durable material called Neo-Steel. (Fuck off, it was the Eighties.) Neo-Steel is a hyperalloy of Steel with an unknown chemical composition, it is many times more durable than steel and is the root of his astronomically adept physical state. His body is capable of what it is because of Neo-Steel. It adds massive amounts of bulk and weight to his body, grows stronger the more he uses his muscles, and best of all it enhances his durability to be capable of slugging it out with the strongest bastards in the Multiverse.

Outsider: When my body was destroyed, I found out that I don't exist. Let me explain, I can interact with anything else in the universe. Just like you or any other man could, but I can't interact with manipulation of reality. I've confronted dark gods and waded through a path of destruction, as they tore apart reality around me I stood unmarked by the changes. I've found that no god, no devil, no angel or demon. No cosmic space horror that manipulates the essence of physics. Not one of them can lay a finger on me with their manipulation of reality, forcing them to fight me with their own strength. Rather than trying to simply make me cease to exist. Cannot be teleported, cannot be mind controlled, can't have my perception of time changed in any way shape or form. If you want to kill me, you gotta beat me. Fair and square.

Equipment: (All are materially infused with Neo-Steel, except the Ears.)
"Eyeballin'"-Heatwave: Whipping off those beautiful aviators he reveals the mechanical left eye. This is not for show, this is a powerful destructive tool. Allowing Eddie to project a lazer beam with the power of a plasma cutter from his eye, cutting cleanly through anything softer than steel when his eye passes over it. The only issue is, it has some kick and he can't move his eye while doing it, so he has to move his whole head to change targets.

"Long Black Veil"-Johnny Cash: A pocket knife that was present with Eddie and Orion when their world was annihilated. It evolved and changed into a long blade, measuring 8 inches in length and 1.5 inches in width. It's absurdly strong, able to clash blades with impossibilities. Such as "Blades that can cut through anything." Or energy blades, clashing against both as if they were made of normal steel.

"Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap"-AC/DC: D4C is the pride and joy of Eddie's Arsenal, it was his Remington model 700 BDL. An All American rifle, born and bred of American engineering. When the world was destroyed, it was reborn as a four barreled rifle, bolt action but with a bizarre combination of a folding hitch for loading. Functionally a combination of a shotgun and rifle, the barrels are obscenely sprialled inside and the mere action of firing a round causes a trail of sparks behind the round.

The interesting aspects of D4C are its ridiculous punching power and its spectacular durability. Much the same as Long Black Veil, it is capable of clashing with impossible weaponry and tanking hits from absurdly strong opponents without breaking.

The punching power of D4C is comparable to a Battleship Cannon's raw power. So similar that if he were to fire it while standing atop a battleship, he would cause it to rock just from the explosive force. Firing a round also causes dust to be blown away from Eddie's position in a massive ring. Oh, yeah, it can be loaded with any shot, including but not limited to: "BB pellets, Black Powder Rounds, and in one case a Civil War Era Cannonball."

"I'd Love To Lay You Down"-Conway Twitty: Eddie's necklace of Ears, currently inert. The Ears that Eddie collects from his marks can be used to summon a shade of the dead man. This shade has all the abilities of the deceased, but no intelligence and when they're destroyed they can't be summoned again. All ears are currently inert and used up, but he loves to keep the most interesting of the bunch.
Attributes (Select one at each category):

Weaknesses: Irrational, aggressive, and prone to picking fights with pretty much anyone who looks mean enough.
Supporting Characters:

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Character you have created: Detective Richard “Dick” Hunter

Alias: Roadblock

Speech Color: 00aeef

Character Alignment: Hero

Identity:It is known there is an Detective inside, the actual identity is known only to those with police connections.

Character Personality:His friends in the LHPD describe him as an, prideful, and honorable man. He believes in doing the right thing, the right way, it’s one of the many reasons he became a policeman. Even in a world where people are continuing to be born, or gifted, with both amazing and terrifying powers, Richard believes that common men can still live just fine in the world.

Metahumans have been around for a long while, longer than even Dick, and the police’s effectiveness has always been in question with the presence of "superheroes". And with that he’s made it his life goal to make sure the people know they can rely on the police, even with individuals like Icon flying around.

Uniform/costume:

Dick prides himself in being a detective, as such he wears a full, dark grey suit, along with a tie, a bright red one if he can help it. Occasionally throughout the week, depending on his mood, he may switch to striped patterns, or a tie with cats patterned across it. Richard is decently well built, he's not lanky, and he's not exactly overflowing with muscles, just somewhere in between. His hair is dirt brown, and he usually keeps it short and combed over to the side.







Origin Info/Details:



Hero Type: Normal/Grey Matter

Power Level: Street/City/World

Equipment:

CKBLK v1.06 – Built to combat energy using metas of varying types, it surrounds it’s user with an invisible particle barrier that intercepts or diffuses incoming energy attacks. Higher level attacks may still bleed through, and physical attacks will pass through with little resistance.

Crystalline Composite Gel Layer –This synthetic gel layer alters it’s density to help absorb impact from stronger metahumans, as well as helping to regulate driver temperature.

Metahuman Specialized Foam – This foam hardens and sticks to most surfaces after being exposed to oxygen, intended to incapacitate metahumans in preparation for arrest. Usually carried in special canisters as fuel for the projector variant, but is also utilized in a small canister used as a grenade.

Metahuman Tracker – An integrated sensor unit used to track down designated metahumans, capable of tracking targets through multiple spectrum, connects to NEROS.

Mounted AC-107 Blast Launcher – An experimental energy weapon, a condensed burst of energized particles is launched at supersonic speeds, usually used on high level targets, highly concussive.

Mounted Machine – A powerful multi-barrel machine gun, can also switch ammo type such as armor piercing, and even flares.

Variable Arc Launcher - A large specialized rifle, the gun sends a burst of electricity directed at the targets nervous system to induce pain and muscle contractions. Works much like a taser would just without the physical elements, different power settings for variability.

AI Module – Where Artemis, the LHSCD AI, resides in. Her existence is a closely guarded secret, but this part serves to house her, and supply her with a connection to the suit.

NEROS – (Neurological Emulating Responsive Operating System) - Designed to emulate the human brain, allowing it's operating processes to meld more smoothly with it's user, the NEROS system relays certain data as sensory information, allowing it's user to "feel" what the machine feels, giving them heightened awareness, and faster reaction times. But the strain this would normally put on the human mind would be deadly, requiring the use of the AI to modulate and filter what is and isn't used.

Model R40DBL-K Armor AKA "Roadblock" - The newest mechanized suit developed by the LHSCD, developed from the previous proto-suit, originally meant to be a heavy armor add-on, it has since evolved into its own design for general use.

Polarized Armor Plating - The armor has an underlying layer made up of two or more electromagnetic plates separated by insulating material, creating a magnetic matrix. In operation, he armor's power source charges the armor and reinforces it by creating a magnetic matrix.

Grapple Wire - A steel cable that can be launched out in order to hamper foes, or in an attempt to incapacitate suspects. Can be electrified, voltage varies.

Jump-pack - This backpack equipment allows Richard to continue pursuit even into the air, however, the RDBLK's jets aren't strong enough for a full on chase, and instead are usually just used to help him get around faster. The Jump-Pack can also be traded out for several other utility options.

Attributes (Select one at each category):



Weaknesses:
Outside of his suits he can be killed just as easily as anyone else, it not more so due to his job.

It takes time to suit up, and if he’s on the field away from HQ he must wait for it to arrive via armored transport.

He may be the driver of the suit, but he does not know how it works. If he for some reason has to repair it he would have to rely on others.

Supporting Characters:
The other members of the LHSCD: Comprised of his coworkers and background support team.

Captain Kelly: A slightly overweight man, jovial and warm. He's also the commanding officer for the SCD.

Dr. Fraiser: Leader of the development and support team for the LHSCD’s needs.

Artemis - The LHSCD's secret AI. She calls herself Artemis, gaining inspiration from the goddess of the hunt. Richard gets the feeling there's more to it but hasn't had the time to look into it.

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Sample Post:

Character you have created: Alexander Brodrick

Alias: Vereth (Short for Verethagna)

Speech Color: Bold and Italics speech

Character Alignment: Walking the line

Identity: Secret (Not because he hides it but because he doesn't tend to get on the news or become well known).

Character Personality: Alex tends to be quite the character, he is outgoing but often bored with random conversations. Usually looking for whatever will stimulate him next he will travel around the city looking for ANYTHING to keep him occupied. He likes to get drunk and get in brawls often to test his strength. However, he is also someone who can't stand to see a good person getting hurt or being taken advantage of. So he became a hero so he could take law into his own hands and serve out what he saw was the right type of justice. Even if it's just some kids trying to do shrooms, he will deal with them with his own particular brand of justice. He is usually an easy going guy aside from the justice and brawls, he tends to just want to train, relax, or have his brain be stimulated.

Uniform/costume: None, he fights in his regular attire.

Origin Info/Details: Alex's parents were archaeologists, one day though while they were in China trying to set up a dig site, they were murdered by a mysterious group. A group of 8 wandering monks came by to try and save them but it was too late. Alex; however, was still alive along with his mother. They would take them both in trying to care for them both. But his mother would die from her wounds eventually. Alex would then be raised as a part of the traveling group of monks. Being trained how to fight with them. They were the ones who taught him about Chi, and about resiliency.

While on the road, he would be constantly training, each monk had a different fighting style that he would learn. But they would find out that he was far better than even they expected, he would master almost half of the group's fighting styles by the time he was 10. So they began to travel with him to ancient temples and areas to have him test himself against other fighters. His fists and legs became stronger and stronger. Everywhere Alex and the monks would go they would stay until Alex had mastered the Martial Art of that area. Soon Alex was the one teaching them. Still seeing them as his masters though he would continue to travel with them. But in his lack of knowledge from being a youth, there was a point where they were in a Japanese temple. Alex, who was told not to mess with an area that was said to be 'cursed' in the temple, would start to practice his chi around that area. The sigils around him lit up and would nearly kill him with high amounts of Chi entering into his body.

After recovering he found out that he could control the hardiness of his extremities, and he could use that as a way to strengthen himself even further. Because of this he would ask to test himself against more and more people, until one day his match was televised. A relative, recognized the name being called and would look into it. She (His aunt) would find out who he was and would try to take him away from the monks. But Alex refused to go. His aunt would allow him to stay with the Monks on one condition, that he would get a proper education. So he stayed with them getting an education from the most expensive places his aunt could find and pay for. It took awhile but he was able to catch up to where he was supposed to be, and then he excelled even further.

Thanks to the monks training, he is constantly walking around with weights around his arms and legs so he is always feeling like he is training in some way. He takes these off when he is getting serious. If he knows he is fighting he will wrap his hands with bandages that have cushions at the knuckles to help soften the impacts as to not hurt the other person TOO badly.

Now, he is a College Professor teaching Archaeology (Like his parents), Mysticism, History, and Anthropology. He is fluent in Chinese, Japanese, and English.

Hero Type:
Muscle
Energy (Chi) (Ancient Chi)
Acrobat

Power Level:
City level

Powers:
Chi: He can use chi to heighten his senses, and his physical abilities, causing them to becoming close to superhuman (Not like Superman strength or DBZ strength)
Ancient Chi: He doesn't know that it is this ancient chi he has control over, but he uses this to harden his extremities to be as hard as stone, and at it's max use, steel. (Using this over a long period of time will make him feel more drained, so he can't just have it on all the time).
Attributes (Select one at each category):
Average (Has a rich Aunt, and a library)

Weaknesses:
Long Range attacks: He is a close range fighter, so if kept at a distance, he is almost useless.
Torso: Even if he hardens his extremities with the ancient Chi, he can still be stabbed, shot, and hurt by hitting his torso.
Exhaustion/Habit: When using the Ancient Chi, he will become exhausted if he keeps it up continuously, often this leads to him turning it off and on like someone flicking a light switch, so one might be able to catch him off guard in a fight while it is off.
Regular Human: He is a regular human, other than the chi, and his way of fighting, there isn't much that would separate him from others in how he can be killed.

Supporting Characters:
The 8 Monks (IF THEY ARE ALIVE. DUN, DUN, DUNNNNN)
Ex Wife: Amber Law
Aunt: Tiffany Brodrick
Girlfriend: Alyssa Fara
(More to add if I can think of them if that's okay)

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Sample Post: (Hope this is good enough)

Alex simply smirked, here he was again, a young man like him getting into a fight with some group of bikers at a bar. Some would call him insane, others would say he had a death wish. However, in reality, he just was bored and needed something to do. So he traveled to an area of downtown that he knew there was never anything good happening just so he could see what he could stir up. Man did he know how to pick his fights. He stood looking at the 3 bikers in front of him, they were demanding an apology for him 'accidentally' spilling his beer on one of them and on the pool table they were using.

Alex shrugged "I'm sorry, I don't think I really owe an apology to someone who is so big and stupid that he can't realize that he was the one in my way." He'd act like he was starting to turn around knowing the exact reaction such a comment would get him. He felt a hand grab his shoulder as he turned back around looking at the three bikers, they wore their leather jackets that were decorated in biker memorabilia, 2 of them had a 1%er patch on. It didn't seem to bother Alex as he looked up at the biggest one, the big man stared at him with anger in his green eyes as he got just close enough that his beer belly was touching Alex.

Alex didn't care what the man was saying, he had already tuned him out before he started talking, instead Alex gave him a slight shove. "I'm sorry, but your beer gut is making me very uncomfortable. Especially when it is touching me, I would rather not know where that has been and I would much rather not get some disease from you." Alex would say it with a smart-ass tone as he began to turn away. He heard the sound of a pool stick being picked up. Alex grinned as he heard the floor boards creak under the weight of the man who was now pushing down with his back foot as he began to swing. It seemed all too slow for Alex, in fact, it was too slow. It was too easy. He simply ducked as the stick went right over the top of him. Shooting back up Alex would wrap an arm around the man's arm as a short jab with two fingers would go into the man's armpit forcing his arm to try and come down. His other hand would come down from being wrapped around the man's upper arm to hit the man's elbow with an open palm causing the arm to stiffen up. Thanks to that, the arm wouldn't give in for when Alex used it, putting his back into the man's body and flipping the man over his shoulder. The floor would seem to crack from the impact. But Alex still had a hold of his arm, but it wouldn't take long, it was a simple forceful twist that would send a loud cracking sound throughout the bar.

The other two men instantly would try to jump into action as their friend writhed in pain. The first one came running up but would find an open palm right to the chest, then to the stomach, then to the side, only to be followed up with an elbow to the nose. Alex did this quickly and in one fluid motion as he spun around the man he just elbowed, using his foot Alex kicked int the man's Patella tendon causing him to go down onto that knee. The next one would come charging, only to get a kick in the hip stopping him in his tracks, that kick was instantly followed up with another to the ankle and then to the side of the knee. This time though Alex would grab the 3rd man's head as he was falling and shove it into the back of the second man's (The one who was kneeling) head. Blood spouted from the third man's nose as the force that he shoved with was hard enough to cause the 2nd man to fall over unconscious. The 3rd man holding his nose would turn around to an elbow to the jaw causing him to collapse on the bar next to him.

"Sorry about that. But I was not the aggressor. So don't let this come back on me. Okay?" Alex said to the bartender who looked on in shock and horror. Alex reaching into his pocket and pulled out a wad of currency, dropping it on the counter. "This should help with any damages. Thanks for being a great host. Sorry for the problems these gentlemen caused." a grin would appear on his face as he spoke it was as if it was showing he wasn't sorry at all. In fact one would be able to say that there was no feelings of sorrow, or remorse in his face at all.

Theme song: youtube.com/watch?v=BwBKjK7Xik0
Jk.. here is the real Theme song
youtube.com/watch?v=O0M5D5OA-d4

Name: Madalena “Maddi” Hawthorne

Age: 24

Alias: Hex, Lady Hex

Speech Color: color=E3243B

Character Alignment: Walking-the-Line

Identity: Secret (Known only by those with whom she works in close proximity)

Character Personality: Madalena is a curious and eccentric witch with an excess of personality. A little too excitable, she gleefully jumps at any amount of joy or wonderment and falls prey to her occult interests more times than not. She eres more on the side of hero than villain, always wishing to aid those in need of her particular talents, but understands the selfish and self serving nature of her gifts, along with their dark history. As such, Madalena has developed a second skin of sorts, allowing her to deviate from the normal realms of morality to do what she must.

Uniform/costume: Madalena sports a wider build with broad shoulders and rounder hips, ivory skin, and high cheekbones and curved features. Her eyes seem to shift from a soft hazel to green in the right light, and her hair is deep crimson.


Her uniform is best described as a modern take on a fairy-tale enchantress, made of rich velvet and hand sewn by a faery seamstress. The hem of her coat is inscribed with protective charms to keep it from being damaged, and worn around her neck is a charm to hide her identity (modelled after the charm created by the White Witch).


Origin Info/Details: Madalena’s interest in magic began as a teen. Back then, of course, it was all New Age theories and hand-me-down Wiccan spells for prosperity, none of which were anywhere close to what Gardner’s original coven had performed. But it was the push Maddi needed to continue her studies in the arcane and occult. After graduation, she attended a junior college in West Virginia with a focus in History, hoping to transfer her credits and get a degree in cultural anthropology at WVU. However, the hustle and bustle of campus life didn’t agree with her. She moved further up the East Coast, taking a few online classes until finally arriving in Lost Haven, Maine.

Upon her arrival, Madalena was made aware of a failing business, The Gilded Way, a local occult curiosities shop that had fallen into disrepair and disreputable status. Maddi gained employment at the Way, hoping to further her spiritual progress and occult knowledge. Unfortunately, the store continued to suffer. Taking out a small business loan, Madalena convinced the former owner to sell the remnants of the Way to her, thus began The Shadow of the Moon, catering to a wider audience of folk and drawing the attention of many a wandering witch, some well learned in ancient craft ways, others not so much.

Some time after, her relationship with The White Witch of Chinatown, Marie Heartford, as well as the rising threat of the Hounds of Humanity, lead to her pact with the infamous Robin Goodfellow, granting her power and knowledge in exchange for her aid in taking down a dangerous sect of the Hounds led by the so called Witchfinder General.

Hero Type: Mystic/Supernatural

Power Level: City Level

Powers & Abilities :
Puckish Magic: A gift from the imp, Puck, her powers of fascination are made more chaotic due to their origin. Her power to bless or blast with only a look or gesture is made more potent and virulent, and often come with other mischievous side effects.

Witch’s Bargain: Madalena can enter into binding magical contracts with words alone, and weave intricate enchantments into the fabricate of her agreements. She is bound by the terms of her contracts, but so too are the receiving parties.

Familiar Spirits: Madalena possesses three familiar spirits who assume a different bestial form: Hellawin, the owl; Malkin, the cat; Robin, the snake. Each is bound to a separate totem housing their essence. These familiars can perform certain tasks for Maddi, become corporeal or incorporeal, transform into Maddi’s likeness if given her blood, and have unique abilities themselves.


Skills:
Witchcraft: Maddi practices a form of witchcraft inspired by her contract with Puck, drawing power from him, his knowledge, and the Otherworld.

Occult Studies: Given her long standing interest in magic and recent pact with Puck, Madalena possesses a wide array of knowledge on various occult topics and practices.

Skilled Speaker: Because of her position as both proprietress of Shadow of the Moon and employee of The Red Devil, Madalena has become a skilled communicator and negotiator. She is also, though more recently, familiar with arts of deception and trickery.

Attributes:


Equipment:
Elderwood Scepter: An intricate scepter with a curved hilt to appear like the petals and vines of a rose, and thorns running down each side, used as an aid in commanding Madalena’s familiars and certain operations.

Ash Broom: A handcrafted broom infused with flying ointments that allow for limited flights over certain distances.

Glamour Charm: A simple charm worn around Madalena’s neck that conceals her identity. Her features are difficult to make out up close and even harder to remember.

Tools of the Craft: On Madalena’s person at all times are certain charms and working tools that may be useful to her, among them are a black book filled with minor charms, protective talismans, etc.

Weaknesses:
Magic and Mundane: Though there is debate among magical scholars regarding the level of humanity retained by fully initiated witches, Madalena is, for all intents and purposes, still human, and thus susceptible to any and all damage that manages to penetrate any magical protections. Due to that magical blood, however, she is equally as susceptible to items such as silver, iron, and the like.

Familiar Totems: Madalena’s familiars are able to manifest only if they are bound to their respective totem. Should these be destroyed, they may no longer physically manifest. These totems are highly durable, but can be destroyed with the right means.

Fledgling Witch: Madalena’s power is recently obtained and her knowledge, while great due to her connection to Puck, is far from perfect or complete, nor is she very experienced. As such, her powers will fail her from time to time, which could prove fatal in a dire situation. Furthermore, her powers heavily rely on her familiars and certain tools/implements, meaning she is far more effective the further away she is from a physical battle.

Supporting Characters:

Friends:
–Robin Goodfellow/Puck: Owner of The Red Devil and employer to Madalena.
–Marie Heartford/White Witch: Former employee of Shadow of the Moon and fellow witch under the employ of Puck.
–Charlene Croll/The Alchemyst: An alchemist of the Croll line aiding Madalena against the Hounds and the Witchfinder General.
–Carrie Ludwig: A witch and customer of Shadow of the Moon.

Acquaintances:
–Ursula Wyrcroft: Former senior member of the Agency in London, now heading the Ars Obscura, a secretive organization based in Wales, dedicated to the preservation of secrecy within the magical community and cataloguing of magical artefacts worldwide.
–Gideon Lloyd/Merlyn: A Welsh cunning man and field agent in the Ars Obscura.
–Orrin Anderson/Warlock: A male witch from Scotland and tentative enemy of the Ars Obscura.

Enemies:
–The Witchfinder General: A high ranking member of a sect in the Hounds of Humanity dedicated to organizing a long dead band of witch hunters known as The Winter Court.

Character Personality:
Leanna is a warm, caring person, though she likes to be left to her own devices. She enjoys being out in nature, helping the community, and is generally the sort of neighbour you'd love to have around.

Blacklight is all business. She draws a hard line on crime, though she doesn't seek to punish criminals and villains, as that is the courts job. She will apprehend anyone she can, even modulating her beams as much as she can to avoid doing lethal damage. However, should innocents be in danger, she has no problems putting someone down. When dealing with other heroes, she has anecdotes for almost every occasion about past battles, but stays quiet when a fight is on.

Uniform/costume: She wear a full black bodysuit, crisscrossed with many lines of the same rainbow of colours her energy beams create as they break light, in a pattern reminiscent of a broken mirror. A full size black domino mask covers her cheekbones, bridge of nose, eyebrows, and everything between them, leaving her eyes exposed.

Origin Info/Details: Back in college, Leanna Young was a promising physics student, the kind with a bright future. Going to Syracuse University in New York, she had excellent grades and was in line to be part of the top percentile of her graduating class of 2005. A good home life and middle class upbringing left her well balanced mentally and physically. All of that changed in August 2004.

A villain going by Overlord broke into the physics lab during a late night experiment with a theoretical beam projector, intent on stealing the device. Young, two grad students, and two professors were in the lab at the time. During the raid, Young and one of Overlord's minions toppled into the path of the beam at the same moment one of the professors set it to overload in order to prevent it falling into the villain's hands. The resulting explosion took out half of the building, killing everyone inside except Young, who was found unconscious in the wreckage. There was no sign of Overlord, though many of his minions were also slain.

After two months in a coma, Leanna woke up feeling better than she ever had. Within another week, she had found her powers working at full tilt. Several accidents ensued, but after some wise words from her parents and a helpful trip to the government, “Blacklight” was working with STRIKE by February of 2005.

Over the course of a decade with the organization, Blacklight has dealt with a number of villains, fighting toe-to-toe with several monstrous ones as well as the more normal types, and fended off threats from the street-level on up. However, in 2016, during a pitched battle with a terrorist group, an explosion slammed her against the wall nearby and broke her spine. During her recovery, she decided she had had enough of the fighting, and at thirty four, retired to a farm outside of Syracuse, NY. She finished her degree, finally, and has been living off the land and enjoying the peaceful life since then.

However, those who have worked with her before have her phone number, should anything come up where they might need her assistance. And, of course, she can't really help but fly around when she can. After all, when you can, why wouldn't you? So the residents of Syracuse know that Blacklight is still around. In addition, Leanna's farm doubles as a sort of training ground for new heroes, a place for them to be taught all about how to be a hero once they get their powers under control, or are released from whatever other holding, as the case may be. Blacklight has gotten offers to teach at a theorised university, but no one's actually convinced her that's a good idea as of yet.

Hero Type: Flying artillery
Power Level: World
Powers:


Attributes (Select one at each category):
Fairly small, given her length of service and breadth of experience, but she has a good amount in savings, and ready assistance from a number of old compatriots should she need it.

Weaknesses: Exposure to more than 1mSv/h radiation (the equivalent of a high radiation area in a nuclear plant) shuts down all of Leanna's powers, including her enhanced strength and toughness, until she has been outside of it for at least an hour, at which point they come back gradually over the course of three hours.

While she is supernaturally tough, anyone with a comparable strength to hers can knock her around pretty well. Gunshots still hurt her, though not as much as they might a normal human. Inside her skull, her brain is as vulnerable as anyone else's, so concussions are a real danger. Her bones are definitely capable of breaking, burns can happen from anything higher than a few hundred degrees C, and she is still as vulnerable as a normal person to cold, electricity, asphyxiation, pressure, starvation, and poisons.

Some of her previous injuries have left her with weak spots, including her spine, her left hip, both shoulders, her neck, and a worrisome chronic migraine problem. These act up even worse in combat.

Supporting Characters:
Ambrose Smith, MD: A doctor in Syracuse who knows about Blacklight's past, in order to better understand how to treat any issues.

Rebecca and Henry Young: Leanna's parents, both knowing of her powers and very relieved to see her retired. Also extremely proud of her.

She did have contacts at STRIKE, but they have all been killed.

Springheel: A speedster Blacklight has worked with on several occasions, and who stops by to visit regularly.

Denier: A man with incredible gravity and forcefield powers who specialises in area control during fights. Also stops by regularly to visit.

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:

Character Personality: Abigail is a loner by necessity. Being around too many people can easily drive her mind to the brink, so she must frequently take breaks from social activity. Most people think of this as her being either depressed or introverted, and they're not entirely wrong. The lack of solid social contact has caused her some depression, but she tries to be as open as possible. After all, it's only fair. If she gets to know a little too much about other people,they should know as much about her. Then again, the people she sticks around with long enough to do so are few and far between.

Given her occupation, she has to deal with a lot of very strange people, and her encounters with otherworldly things have further opened her mind. She is broadly accepting of just about anyone, though she tends to stay away from people who feel too strongly about anything. As for herself, she tries to feel as little as possible when on the job, which has deadened her emotions a little even when she's living normally. This does let her open up more to receiving from others, which is the point, but it means her mood tends to be whatever everyone else is feeling.

She tries to do good, but in the city, good doesn't pay the bills, so she's had to stoop to less-than-legal acts occasionally to make ends meet. She also never works for lower than her normal rate, no matter the situation, though she does accept payment plans. Charity doesn't put food in her mouth. She is very honest, with no softening of blows. “If you can't handle the truth, then why did you call me?”

Uniform/costume: Although she tends to wear a lot of black, Abigail doesn't actually have a “costume”, just normal clothes. She doesn't fly and has no secret identity, and her job doesn't generally get her involved with anything she'd need armour or tools for. That said, she does always have a taser, pepper spray, a Swiss army knife, and a set of lockpicks.

Origin Info/Details:Abigail was born in New York City to a pair of Korean immigrants. The Chos now had a third child, the other two being boys, but they loved all of them equally. Unfortunately, life wasn't going to be easy for any of them. Jung-Hee Cho, the patriarch of the family, died during the 9/11 attacks, Abigail only being five at the time. Without their father, both of her brothers began acting out, though their mother Min-So could reign them in at home. Min-So, however, was not home very often, having to work several jobs to keep the family afloat. When they became of age, her eldest brother Shane got a job to help out, but David did not. He had already joined up with a gang, and ran off, not to be heard of for quite some time.

Abigail first began to notice something wrong when she was just a child. Like many horror movie children, she could see ghosts, but they didn't really bother her. None of them seemed to be malevolent, thankfully, so her parents had chalked it up to imaginary friends. When she was ten, she began to feel the moods of others around her, in a way that she knew they were not her emotions. She also developed the ability to handle an object and see into its past. As she grew older both of these grew stronger. By fifteen, she could idly sift through the surface thoughts of other people, and, if she concentrated, could even send her own thoughts to them, though this has always given her a migraine.

She worked for a year after high school at a 7-11, hated every moment of it, and finally quit to pursue an actual career. Her best friend from high school suggested, having learned about her powers, that she could easily make money by using them as a ghost hunter. She looked into it, and hit upon being a complete Paranormal Investigator. Lots of people make fun of her when she tells them what she does for a living, but it's enabled her to bounce around New England and make a fairly decent living. Recently, a job took her to Lost Haven, Maine, and while she didn't really want to stick around, the place was definitely full of weird things.

Abigail is currently based out of Boston, but makes frequent trips to everywhere on the Atlantic coast. Her website tends to be one of the more popular traffic stops for the business, and James Randi has issued her a challenge, though she's disregarded him up to this point because she doesn't feel she needs to prove anything. She's markedly more successful than most in her field, and only at the age of twenty-two.

Hero Type: Psychic
Power Level: Street

Powers:

Sensitivity: By handling an object with her bare hands, she can get a sense of who has touched it in the last few weeks. Anything that might be worn every day, or has sentimental value to someone, she can get much more information out of, essentially “seeing” the past from the objects point of view, and can go back to when the person in question first got it. Family heirlooms are a bit much for her. She can read them, but they hurt if she goes too far back.

Through the Veil: Abigail can see, hear, speak to, and physically interact with any ghosts, or anything on the Astral Plane. Only by extreme concentration can she suppress this ability, which means that most of the time, she is seeing and hearing quite a few things others can't. This tends to make her look slightly dazed or tired, and occasionally it's necessary to poke her to bring her back into the physical world.

Telepathy: Abigail is constantly receiving the surface thoughts of everyone within a few hundred feet of her. She cannot shut this off at all, but has learned how to ignore it or sift through the noise for a specific type of thought. This is what gives her a faster reaction time then most people, at least in a fight, as she's already picked up on the intent to hurt her. If she pushes hard enough at one person, she can actually send her own thoughts to them, making her capable of communication silently. Doing this, however, gives her a migraine after even a brief exchange.

Empathy: Abigail is constantly receiving the emotions of of people as well as their surface thoughts. Unlike the telepathy, though, this doesn't create “noise”. Instead, she feels the “average” of the area. In a crowded nightclub, this can get really intense, and not only from the emotion. She can also feel a small portion of any drugs in someone's system this way, as though she had taken them herself, though physically there's nothing in her blood and it goes away as soon as they get out of her range. It's great in a bar, but she flatly refuses to enter hospitals.

Telekinesis: Abigail can only effect tiny objects like coins and pens, or very light things like a piece of paper or a Styrofoam block, but those objects she can move, lift, and otherwise interact with using only her mind. She doesn't do it often as a rule, but she actually does use it casually in her day. Occasionally one can spot her spinning a pen in the air while she's thinking about something, as if there was an invisible hand twirling it. Her coffee stirs itself, hair never gets in her face, etc

On the Astral Plane, however, this is much more powerful. She can easily throw several tons of “material” around, and can deal damage to anything within her range.

Mind over Matter: Almost more of a subset of telekinesis than its own power, Abigail can concentrate to rapidly heal damage to her body. While not instant, she heals at more than four times as fast as normal people without concentration, and over twenty-times as fast while concentrating. Doing this too much, however, can cause her powers to shut down until she has sufficient rest, usually a few days, during which she basically only eats and sleeps.

Attributes (Select one at each category):
Average. She has a decent apartment in Boston, and makes enough money that she might even be able to take a vacation in a few years.

Weaknesses: No special defenses against physical attacks. Guns, knives, blunt objects, and energy all effect her like they should.

Spending too much time in crowded places gives her a sort of “tinnitus of the brain”, and makes hearing individual thoughts much more difficult.

Her empathy in a hospital, drug den, or anywhere else can mean she suffers the effects of several drugs at once. Even though it's impossible to overdose this way, it can incapacitate her completely.

Literally anything on the Astral Plane can interact with her, as can the dead. While she can defend herself with telekinesis, she is always vulnerable to this.

Supporting Characters:

Min-So Cho, mother. Calls frequently.

Shane Cho. Still lives with their mother, supporting her. Also a good confidant for his sister.

David Cho. Lives in Boston. Abigail is trying to get him to go to rehab with limited success.

Constance Young, Abigail's business partner, who typically runs the business side and lets Abigail get on with the actual work.

Brett Parker, Sam Newman, Theresa Little, and Wendy Smith: The technical crew who tries to keep up with Abigail's exploits. While they all live in Boston and fly with her, they tend to try and stay out of her way. They each get ten percent of any job, which means they also have other jobs to do.

Character you have created: Everett Williams

Alias: Mansa

Speech Color: #9f7d2e - Gentle Gold

Character Alignment: Wishes to be a Hero; Much more prone to Walking the Line.

Identity: He tries to keep his real identity hidden, but was forced to flee the UK when exposed by the Metropolitan Police and DEMAR as part of a larger manhunt involving a string of murders in London that perfectly framed him as the main suspect. The one or two people he had told about his powers have since been taken into custody and their situation is unknown - he has no allies left.

Character Personality: A quiet and uncertain young man, Everett was determined in his school years to keep a low profile, knuckle down and study. He had few friends due to his anxiety and lack of conviction regarding what he wanted out of life in the long-term, in a world ruled by luck - after all, it seemed like those with all of the power had either been born into it, were lucky enough to receive it from circumstance and mystery, or had taken it from others by force and cruelty.

He is generally bad at maintaining eye contact and gets nervous in high pressure environments, but when taking on the persona of 'Mansa', he has found it easier to get 'into character' and reveals an inner confidence that tends to throw those who know him well off guard. He has his suspicions that the persona of 'Mansa' somehow links him to the Golden Spider from his dreams, and that leaves him nervous about the possibility that his confidence and cunning are not really 'his' - this, along with the constant fear of being killed, caught or being forced to his powers to harm others leaves him nervous and pessimistic about the future and his role in the world.

Uniform/costume: N/A; Everett did briefly consider the idea of trying to create his own costume based on sketches he'd drawn as a kid, but quickly realized that his powers were better used from a distance or while blending into a crowd.

In his daily life Everett has no particular 'style', but especially since being on the run he mainly just wears practical, cheap clothing - jeans, bland T-shirts or button-up shirts and simple padded coats or hoodies. When he can get away with it though, he prefers to wear tight, smart brown trousers and elegant, long-sleeved shirts, usually with flower or abstract patterns. When possible, he also wears thick or woolly gloves to limit his powers from accidentally triggering if he gets nervous.

Origin Info/Details: Born to Ghanian parents shortly after they moved to London, Everett often felt uncertain of his place in the world growing up. His parents loved him and his older brother Thursday a great deal, but there was a constant sense of being torn between two very different worlds. He seems to have faded into the background, especially when his younger brother was born and he was hit extremely hard with middle child syndrome.

Never-the-less, there was one small certainty throughout everything - the world was unfair, deeply so, and his family seemed to suffer the brunt of it. London - and the wider UK in general - had, for reasons not fully understood, relatively low numbers of active heroes relative to its population. In the wake of increasingly destructive meta activity abroad and a growing lack of confidence in the work of ordinary police, popular and political opinion had gradually been eroding their public support; when a series of attacks by the villain Scattershot left dozens dead in the London Underground, the camel's back was broken and the UK government rapidly passed through the creation of the Department for Metahuman Affairs and Relations, or DEMAR. Registration was mandatory, and metahuman activity without approval from DEMAR and its representatives was strictly illegal.

In the midst of this, Everett grew up increasingly pessimistic about the world, feeling he had to do something - perhaps through studying hard and getting a good education? Perhaps through politics? Perhaps through charity? - to make it better, but every system he turned to had inevitably failed the common people.

And then, when his family had hit rock bottom, he had a dream. A tiny golden spider, drifting in the darkness from a single golden strand.

The world is wounded, yes?

"Yes."

Then take the Light of the Earth, and bind those wounds.

He awoke to something powerful, deep within his bones. On some deep, instinctive level, he knew what the spider had given him - and when his thoughts turned out to be based in truth, that he now held a power able to hold the balance of prosperity and ruin with a snap of his fingers...

He knew that he had to do something. With such great power, there was now a great responsibility - to change the world forever.

Hero Type: Elemental/Mystic

Power Level: Usually an A, but Everett could potentially achieve B or even C level with sufficient preparation, support and set up.

Powers: Everett possesses something called the 'Light of the Earth', the ability to instantly turn any inorganic matter he wishes into gold with a snap of his fingers. This can theoretically work on objects of almost any size or complexity, though he's never tried anything larger than a full three piece suit or anything more complex than an iPhone. This is tremendously powerful, but abides by very specific limitations that he strictly cannot break, as follows:
--- Line of Sight: Everett must be able to see the matter he is 'converting' clearly enough that he can perceive it as 'that thing' - this means his effective range is much greater so long as he wears his glasses, but it does not work through electronic devices.
--- No Magic Mass for Me: The targets of Everett's power do not magically 'gain mass' - gold is a heavy metal with a high particle density to its atoms, so most materials and objects will essentially 'compress' as they are converted, the atoms quietly but suddenly 'melting together'. Thus, the vast majority of targets will quite literally shrink or even 'melt' as the individual chemical elements making up the target slowly shrink and push together into a single mass of gold. Perfect golden statues these are not.
----- Despite this change in atomic structure, there is no actual release of energy from such a change - as far as Everett or anyone else is aware, he doesn't have the power to create nuclear fission on a whim or to turn objects into miniature nuclear bombs.
--- Snap of the Fingers: Everett must snap his fingers to trigger the ability - he's attempted to use his power without the finger snap, and consistently nothing happens. There's no specific pose or other action required mind you, but he usually likes to be dramatic about it when he can get away with it. And yes, this does mean he's basically powerless if his fingers or hands are broken.
--- No Focus Necessary: Despite this, Everett doesn't need to actively 'concentrate' to use his power - so long as he's looking at something, he can snap his fingers to trigger it instantly. The problem is that without focusing on the 'target' in question, the effect will simply latch onto whatever 'target' he's dwelling on at the time - a lapse in judgement of this sort is the straw that broke the camel's back and led to him being tracked down by the UK authorities, forcing him on the run.
----- That said, concentration does also provide him greater control - with proper focus, he can 'delay' the effect, starting the process of turning something to gold on a sort of 'timer' where it slowly turns to gold from the outside in. The longest he was able to delay such a target was forty seconds before his concentration was broken by the arrival of police and the conversion immediately finished.
--- Golden Retriever: Technically not a limitation but rather a passive secondary power that he gained simultaneously, he appears to be able to sense the presence of gold around him in a small area, about 20 feet at the furthest. This is described as a 'tingling' that rises up his limbs. The sensation is stronger towards gold that he himself has 'created', and the range extends as far as 50 feet at his last calculation.

As a secondary note, something Everett isn't yet certain of is if there is a way for him to reverse the transformation. A comment the golden spider made to him once ("One who changes the world can often change it back") has led him to believe that he could, but he's not yet been able to successfully do so.

Attributes (Select one at each category):


Weaknesses: Primarily, his main weakness is that, without his power he's just a weedy, physically frail nerd caught between anxiety and a theoretical god-complex that worries those who know of him. Nothing about him is particularly noteworthy, and so if anything were to happen to his hands, or he was caught off guard?

Well, he wouldn't exactly last long.

Supporting Characters: IN PROGRESS


Face Claim: Lakeith Stanfield