Character you have created: Ricardo “Rick” Martinez

Alias: Hometown Hero or Collateral.

Speech Color (Actually say what you're using, don't go "Like this", or what not): Goldenrod: DAA520

Character Alignment: Hero. He tries.

Identity: Secret. Thank God.

Character Personality:
Rick is a good guy, bless his heart. He’s honestly in this to be a hero, and he enjoys helping people. He’s a joker, in his opinion, but his jokes are usually those only his dad would find funny. He’s not the smartest, not the most clever--he tends to deal with social situations the same way he deals with fights--charge straight through, hoping his earnestness, determination, and thick skull make up for a lack of tact and skill.

Despite all his flaws, Rick has a heart that’s as big as his biceps. He loves protecting people, and willingly throws himself into harm’s way over and over even to save just one person. Most of his time not spent heroing is repairing the damage he did, though as he’s learned how to control his powers this has decreased.

Uniform/costume:


Like this, but without the symbol. And the electricity. This would just be a bad situation for him, really.

Outside of costume:


Origin Info/Details:
Rick’s early life was a fairly normal one. The son of third generation immigrants, born in the heart of football country, Rick grew up on a more than healthy helping of the American dream. He read comics and watched superhero movies as a kid, longing to be the sort of person who saved lives with a smile on their face. Best he could do in real life, with no powers of his own, was to target being a firefighter or soldier--something his strong, capable frame made him ideal for, and somewhere he could do serious good on his own.

All that changed when he was waiting in the subway station while on vacation in New York. A little girl fell into the tracks, and without even realizing what he was doing he dove to get her out, tossing her up from below before a train came pounding through the station.

He should’ve died.

But as he turned to the train and braced for impact, he felt power flow through his body, strengthening him beyond anything a human would be capable of. His hands contacted the front of the train, and as his feet dug in, it stopped-- but before he could appreciate the miracle of his continued existence, his foot brushed against the fabled third rail. Even through the rubber of his soles and newfound power, he went out like a light.

Waking up in the hospital a few hours later, he was told the train had flung him forward and by some miracle hadn’t killed him. Discovering he couldn’t even pick up a glass without shattering it was hard to cover up, but he left quickly. Control came slowly, mostly through training by his sister, but he finally managed to get there. For the most part, he’s spent his time defending his hometown of San Antonio, but given the recent struggles in Lost Haven he’s made his way there.

Maybe he’ll finally manage to shed the Collateral nickname.

Maybe.

Hero Type (Select one):
Brick/Muscle Boy howdy, is he a brick.

Power Level (Select one below):
City level, for reasons. See powers for more specifics.
Powers (Be Specific):
Rick is strong. Really strong. That’s about it, really, though it comes with a few required secondaries. Before we get started, it’s worthwhile to note that his strength would put him on a world level status if it wasn’t for having… pretty much nothing else to go with that, whether it be far ranging abilities, adaptation, or equipment. He’s dangerous on a city level, but running away from him is too easy and he doesn’t have a wide range of effectiveness.

First and as previously stated, Rick’s strength is absolutely insane. He’s not really run into anything he can’t lift, and blasting through buildings is something he can generally fairly easily (and accidentally) do, much to the consternation of his original hometown. This strength lies in everything he does, and only through careful control has he stopped breaking bikes, phones, desks… most everything he touches. He can jump extremely high, launch himself forward with a forward spring and wicked jab, and pull off stunts through brute strength that most would find beyond them even with better agility--like walljumping--though it tends to do major structural damage in the process.
His primary required secondary is nigh invulnerability to physical damage. Suffocation, poison (once it gets past his skin), acid… All of that can still hurt him, though it’s reduced quite a bit. But try to punch him, slash him, crush him… not happening. If he can throw a punch as hard as what he was just hit with--and he probably can--he can pretty much no sell it. This is a natural consequence of his body’s ability to resist the fantastic forces his muscles expose it to, and something he’s eternally grateful for. Whether from a thick skull, nothing to manipulate, or some ridiculous amount of confidence, he’s also mostly immune to psychic influences.

“I’m telling ya, second time someone shouts “boo” and you leap through a building, you sure are glad your head’s a helmet.”

Attributes (Select one at each category):


Weaknesses: For whatever reason, he has almost no resistance to electricity. His intelligence when it comes to fighting is high, but when it comes to everything else it’s average at best. Rick also can’t turn his powers off, just bring them down from a peak that crushes objects to normal human rates. It takes focus, however, and can't be done passively.

Supporting Characters:
Tobias and Maria Martinez, his parents. They’re relatively supportive of his hero work, and know about it--but they’re a little bothered by how much time their son avoids talking to them to avoid endangering them.
Teresa Martinez, his sister. She wanted to be his partner for a while, and was disappointed when she didn’t develop powers.

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

Sample Post
“Again!”

Rick’s eye twitched as he looked across the table at his tormentor. His muscles were taut, mind focused. Adrenaline was coursing through him. Everything depended on this moment. All his training was leading up to this. On his strength. On his control. He could scarcely feel the burning in his arms that had been dominating his thoughts. He could do it, he knew it. It would take all his willpower, but he could do it.

The woman across the table, on the other hand, was incredibly lackadaisical. He towered over her, probably almost weighed two and a half times what she did. But she insisted on this drill, day after day. Drills weren’t supposed to be dangerous, they were preparatory. For danger. Later. Later danger. Not now. But failing this one had grave consequences. Rick’s brown eyes moved from her to the object of his distress, the single object that could cause fear in the heart of even the bravest hero.

It was a teacup.

An antique teacup.

Grandma Martinez’s antique teacup.

“C’mon, big man,” Teresa goaded, his sister’s quiet voice taking on a teasing tone. “Pick up the cup, if you’re so strong. Best not break it, it’s part of a matching set.”

He didn’t know where the demon had found it, but he wished his strength could match the stealth and cunning of someone so iniquitous and prone to villainy. Sitting there, looking at her nails like nothing mattered. He growled, reaching out with his pointer and thumb like a toy crane, where the prize was not getting guilted for the rest of his natural life by Grandma Martinez and her ghost. His hand hesitantly went down, gently touched the edge of the cup--even the bare graze sent it wobbling--he flinched, resisted snapping his hand forward to try to catch it.

Refocused.

Tried again.

Gently touched the edge of the teacup, grasping it in the softest of grips, then picked it up gingerly. Rick’s hand slowly went back down, then he looked over at his sister as she let out a deep breath when it finally contacted the table.

“Good job! I was going to boil too if you broke that,” she said, grinning. “Getting there, Ricky. Tomorrow we try with eggs. I’m gonna throw one at you for each one you break. Best not get egg on your face.”

“Your puns are the actual worst. Worse than my jokes, and that’s sayin’ something.” The superhero known as Collateral collapsed back in his chair, wiping sweat off his forehead. He had to find a less risky way of getting back fine motor control.