@Mintz I mean, do they exist, and are they allowed. Although I seem to have forgotten Jarvis and Friday...so they probably do exist at least in some places. At any rate, have a charsheet or two. Please let me know if there's anything I've forgotten or need to change!
Sparks
"I'm a computer geek, not a superhero. Well, maybe I am a superhero...."
Real Name: Johan Siskin
Age: 19 (born November 14th)
Gender: male
Alias/Nicknames: Izkry, Sparks
Color Choice: lightskyblue Appearance: Izkry is a tall young man, over 185cm (6'1") when he doesn’t slouch. His light brown eyes approach amber, bright and lively, and he has a broad, easy grin that often puts others at ease. He wears his blue-dyed hair spiky, and keeps it cut short save for a slender braid at the very nape of his neck. He’s slightly tan in the summer, what with the sun and spending much time out of doors, but he loses that in the winter months. Time in the Swiss military has him riding the fine line between athletic and just plain thin. Izkry has a faint but noticeable scar on his right temple just at the hairline, a memento of a childhood injury that needed stitches.
Casual clothing is the rule of the day for Izkry. He hates suits and other formal attire. Tshirts and jeans are where it’s at, maybe slacks and a button down if he wants to dress a bit better. He would rather parade around in a revealing dress than put on a tie. He favors brighter, cheerful colors, particularly sky blue, yellow, and orange. Personality: Izkry is cheerful and laid back, preferring to go with the flow. He neither angers nor takes offense easily, and he tolerates others' quirks and shortcomings without giving it much mind. He is friendly and generally smiling, always looking on the bright side of things. His upbeat personality is nice to be around, and his good humor frequently rubs off on those around him. He loves socializing and is happiest in a room full of people talking, laughing, and otherwise having a good time.
He does not like killing, though he understands it is sometimes necessary, particularly when defending something. He managed to avoid much of the brainwashing that the German facility tried to impress upon him, though he is quite loyal to people he knows, and is willing to do a lot for them. The idea that some people are better than others makes no sense to him -- after all, wouldn’t it be better if everyone helped whoever they can? He likes his power, and the insight it gives him into mechanics, one of his passions. He’s a sucker for a person in distress, particularly the elderly and children. He doesn't like seeing people upset, and will provide a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on for just about anybody. These traits, along with his ever-present cheer, make him very likable and he makes friends with ease.
Although he is younger than his sister, he still looks after Bel as if he were the elder. He allows himself to be used as a crutch, keeping others at a comfortable distance for her, and doing most of the communicating. He loves her dearly, though he wishes she would open up and hopes she someday will learn to rely on him less. Still, he doesn't have the heart to force her. Powerset:
Electrical Affinity - Izkry is able to wield electricity, either to generate a lightning bolt with a range of several meters or to deliver a shock by touch. He can generate current to power devices, or fry circuitry with a touch. As a side effect, he is immune to electrical shock himself.
Technopathy - Physical contact also allows Izkry to feel if a device is in good repair, and if not to tell what’s wrong with it. This ability is very finely tuned with electronics, but will work in a broader sense for most machinery.
Technomancy - Touching a device allows Izkry to control it.
Computer Geek - Not exactly a power, but Izkry is a coding wiz and a bit of a hacker.
Equipment/Paraphernalia:
Whip: Izkry's best "weapon" is (ironically) a whip, a skill he picked up on his own because of his fondness for American Wild West novels and the Indiana Jones movies. In combat situations he carries a 7ft (just over 2m) bullwhip with shortened handle made of synthetic fiber with metal threaded through it to allow transfer of electrical current, and he can use this to great effect.
Dancer: Izkry's laptop hosts the original code for Dancer, the AI he built from scratch. Of course she's since been released into the wild of the internet, but she keeps instances running on his computer and phone and appears quite fond of him.
Weaknesses:
Innacurate: Izkry's lightning attack is not particularly accurate, so there is risk of collateral damage or hitting the wrong target if the target is small.
Chain Lightning: If Izkry delivers a shock to a person, and there's another person touching the first person, both will get shocked.
Concentration: Controlling a machine takes up all Izkry's attention, leaving him vulnerable to attack.
---
Blue
". . ."
Real Name: Valentine Siskin Age: 22 (born March 19th)
Gender: female
Alias/Nicknames: Belasý, Bel, Blue
Color Choice: cornflowerblue Appearance: Belasý is fairly average height, with a well-toned physique that is a little on the soft side. Her skin is sun-bronzed but will lighten a few shades over the course of the winter months. Her eyes are a startling blue, and frequently hold a nervous or uncertain expression. Her hair is dark brown with a slight natural wave and she wears it long, often using it as a barrier to separate herself from others. She also frequently bites her lip, or plays with her hair. She uses subtle makeup, nothing eye-catching, and likes having her nails painted.
In a similar vein, Belasý has a fondness for cute or pretty clothing. She likes dresses, though nothing too fancy. Simple and classy is best, in her opinion. However she is aware of what clothing is appropriate for a situation, and her everyday dress is on the higher end of casual. She likes loose cut or flared pants, long sleeved shirts, and oversized jackets. She almost always wears a bracelet on her left wrist, just simple shells and deep blue glass beads -- her favorite color. It was a gift, and she values it highly. Personality: Belasý is a withdrawn individual, reluctant to interact even with those she knows. She prefers to let her brother do the talking, and will go so far as to practically hide behind him. She doesn’t say much, avoiding eye contact and physical proximity to others. She is generally nervous or even frightened in social situations, and often uncertain of where she stands with other people. When on missions she does somewhat better, able to hide her nerves, though the shy demeanor remains if she's not taking charge.
Despite her introverted nature, she can be a sweet person. For her very few friends, she is willing to go far above and beyond what she would do for herself. She has a good sense of humor though it rarely shows, buried underneath uncertainty and a lack of confidence off the field. On the rare occasions when she is pushed into losing her temper, she can be fiercely protective and often unreasonable. Her protective side can also be seen in silent disapproval, or when she simply moves between the one she wishes to defend and whatever she is trying to ward off, creating a wordless but stubborn barrier.
She is not generally violent unless it is absolutely necessary. Hydra especially she hates, as that first facility was associated with Hydra, and she feels they ruined her life and killed her father. Furthermore, she actively dislikes powered individuals, particularly herself. She sees them as threats to society and believes that if they do anything to harm civilians, they must be removed. She is reluctant to use her own power unless there is no good alternative, and in training scenarios it’s not uncommon for her to choose injury over a powered defense. She accepts injuries without flinching in many cases, and her pain tolerance is high. She also has good self control in general, but the switch from calm to out of control is abrupt instead of gradual. Powerset:
Hydrokinesis - Belasý is able to control water and direct it to follower her will. She cannot create water, nor change its temperature, and must have a source of some kind, be it a lake, a puddle, water vapor, or even the liquid inside of living cells. Pulling water from the air is not possible where it’s very dry, and in most cases will only yield a small quantity -- a glob perhaps the size of her fist. Pulling from living sources, particularly animals, is generally more difficult and a slower process. Once the water is separated and under her control, she can shape it as she wishes and move it around. This includes using it as an offensive and defensive weapon, as a small jet of water under pressure can have surprising cutting power. She can control it as ice or steam, if it is already in those states. Steam is fairly easy, ice is a bit harder. Other applications of this power include purifying some quantity of water (time consuming, done by moving the water and leaving the impurities which are not under her control behind), making or calming waves in bodies of water, and some interesting applications underwater -- such as trapping bubbles of air under the surface.
Polyglot - Not a superpower, but Belasý is fluent in several languages and picks up others easily.
Sibling Immunity - Belasý is immune to her brother's electric shocks, though not to electric shocks from other sources.
Equipment/Paraphernalia:
Canteen: Belasý keeps a large canteen of water with fine grit on her in field settings; the cap is modified for rapid access.
SIG 550-1 Sniper: Belasý is very capable with a gun, both as a marksman and as a sniper.
Weaknesses:
Does Not Play Well With Others: Belasý dislikes powered individuals, perhaps even hates them. She is less withdrawn on the field, but she prefers working alone, or with just her brother.
Emotionally Volatile: If sufficiently upset, angry, or otherwise emotional, Belasý's ability is not entirely stable and water sources around her may react violently.
Low Power: Belasý’s control is excellent, but she lacks the power her brother displays, and instead must use her skills wisely if she wishes to have a significant effect.
Needs Water Badly: Belasý requires a source of water to use her powers. She cannot create water from nothing.
---
Johan and Valentine Siskin were born in Germany to Armin Siskin, a captain in the German military, and his wife Meike. As little kids, they had a fairly ordinary life, until one day when Val was six and Johan three, a bully decided to pick on Johan. They were out on a frozen river, and the ice was uneven. When the older boy pushed the child down, he hit his head hard on the edge of a large fallen tree limb sticking up out of the ice. Upon seeing the blood, Val was absolutely furious. She said something unkind, something threatening -- and the power she didn’t know she had broke the ice, sending both boys into the frigid water. She managed to grab her brother by the hood and keep him above the surface until someone could pull him out, but the one who’d been causing trouble went under.
By the time they could get him out from under the ice, the boy had drowned.
Things changed dramatically from that day forward. Val herself became an entirely different person. And within a month, armed men working for an unofficial military program to train powered children came to collect both the girl and her brother. Armin and his wife did not wish for them to go. He had no desire for his children to become soldiers, or tools for the government. A quiet life, that was what he wanted, both for himself and for his family. But it was not to be. The children were taken, and it was the last he saw of them for a number of years.
The facility was nothing like the two were used to. Johan adapted quickly, even though he didn’t really like some of what he was taught as he grew older. Valentine did not, refusing to speak to people, and refusing to use her power, even when the alternative was injury. She took far better to much of the military training, but on the whole she was seen as something of an uncertain asset at best.
Meanwhile, their father was livid. He had done his duty, served his country, and yet now they wanted to take his children from him? Unacceptable. Quietly, discreetly, he contacted those who might be willing to help him. He knew there would be only one chance, and so he had to make sure they would succeed. It was eight long years of plotting, planning, and quietly gathering what he and those he persuaded to join him would need. He managed to stay in occasional contact with his children by way of an uncertain guard he’d known in the military, who admired Hauptmann (Captain) Siskin der Polarfuchs, and sympathized with the man’s desire to get his children back.
In very early spring, Armin and his group made their move. The attack was swift, almost surgical, with the tactical brilliance that had earned Captain Siskin his nickname of Polarfuchs. A number of the team were killed, but they’d known there would be a poor chance of survival going in, and they managed to destroy a respectable chunk of the facility in the process. Val and Johan were not the only powered children freed; Val had quietly figured out who there might be interested in leaving and she’d helped handle organizing things on the inside. The group made for the Swiss border on foot, by car, and by train. It was not an easy trip, but between the tail end of winter and the start of spring with its rain and mud, as well as Armin's understanding of tactics and misdirection, they managed to reach the border.
Crossing was harder. The guards there had been alerted of the fugitives, and told to keep an eye out. An encounter with an unexpected patrol turned to tragedy, resulting in the death of one of the children and several of the adults. Armin, knowing that the group would be done for if the reinforcements called caught up with them, entrusted the children to his former sergeant and a couple others. The remaining men he took to lay a false trail. It was the last time Val ever saw the man, and she believes him to have died, along with most if not all the others with him.
In Switzerland, they met up with sympathetic locals who helped them link up with the powered community there. The adults went their separate ways, with the sergeant keeping the teens with him. They eventually settled near Geneva, in a small apartment, and with the consent of the teens the young ones enrolled in a nearby boarding school.
The sergeant was kind but never replaced her parents for Val, though Johan barely remembered them. Both gained their nicknames at the school from a young teacher whose parents were Slavic Jews, Iskry for his power, and Belasý for her eyes. When Izkry turned eighteen, he was drafted into the Swiss military, and Belasý went with him. Here Bel did relatively well, as she'd kept up her CQC and markmanship. Izkry however had let his skills grow rusty, and boot camp was brutal for him.
With the new Avengers initiative looking for people, Etzel, the seargent that has served as parent and guardian to the pair, encouraged them to apply. He hopes perhaps training in use of their powers will help Belasý especially come to terms with her abilities.
Izkry stretched his arms to their full width, glad to be off the plane. "C'mon, Bel, let's get moving. We still have to go through customs, and then find our luggage." It had been upwards of nine hours on the plane from Switzerland, and he was more than ready to collapse into a bed, despite having slept on the flight over. "Not to mention the bathroom!" The last comment got a flicker of a grin from his sister -- as good as a laugh from anyone else. "Hey, I'm just being realistic."
Belasý nodded. Not only did she have to go, but she wanted to touch up her makeup after the long flight. Izkry grinned at her. "See? Sensible things. C'mon, I think customs is thisaway."
After a brief pitstop, the pair followed the flow of the crowd to the long line waiting to get their passports stamped, with Izkry chattering away in German to help distract his sister from the crowd. Bel, for her part, listened with half an ear. She was nervous among so many strangers, even if they weren't paying any attention to her.
Izkry breezed through customs, even with his accented English. For Belasý, however, the interaction was much harder. She had to force herself to look at the agent's face, force herself to speak in a normal voice, and force herself to use her real name, Valentine -- something she never did in her day-to-day life. Izkry watched her carefully as she answered the customs agent's questions, but it seemed his worries were unfounded. Bel managed it all on her own, and before long her passport was stamped and she was on her way.
"Good job, Bel," he told her, giving her a hug that she returned tightly. Through the contact, he could tell she was shaking. "See, I told you it wouldn't be a problem. I'm proud of you." In reply, she just nodded and gave him an uneven smile, shoving her hands back into the front pocket of her hoodie.
From customs the pair to the baggage claim, where they located their luggage -- black bags with blue strings tied around the handles to make them visually distinct. Izkry immediately checked his bag to make sure his laptop was intact. He'd already connected his phone to the wifi, of course, and Dancer had checked in to make sure they'd had a safe flight.
"Looks like everything is in order, Bel. Let's find ourselves a cab."
Finally....completed...the app! Finally. Not that it wouldn't perhaps need edits to fix it as it gets reviewed, but I am just happy to finally have it completed. Lol. XD
Now it is time to sleep..
Alcides
"What is better? To be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"
-Paarthunax, The Elder Scrolls Skyrim
Real Name: Jason Alexander Smith (the name given to him at the facility he was in) ((Daniel Craig Taylor" is his actual birth name when he went missing as a kid, but its not what he goes by currently either.))
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Alias/Nicknames: Alcides
Color Choice: Coral
Appearance: A younger man with a physique seemingly that that of an ancient greco-roman statue, which is to say his body is at its uttermost prime and then some to an extent enabled by the modified Extremis he was exposed to and treated with for over a decade. His body and face and limbs and such are muscular, toned, and well-defined to a a frankly superhuman level in terms of body shape and build, and yet overall he is not overly large akin to big bodybuilders either in the end. Could even keep that build even if he stopped working out, frankly, due to how his body was altered by modified Extremis as well over the years. His height of 5'11" falls below that of 6-foot-tall people, but is tall enough to reach the top shelf spectacularly well while having to avoid low-hanging entranceways as a tradeoff. His once childhood-age dirty blonde hair has been altered and tweaked to be jet black by this point, and his eyes are a dark chocolate brown color that he seemingly still had as a young child at least. While not pale or otherwise tan-skinned naturally, though, he can still get a proper tan rather than burn in the sun as well.
A person who could be seen as a ‘true stoic’, having learned how to endure much without showing any visible emotion and while keeping his mouth properly and tightly shut. To others Jason would likely appear ‘unfeeling’ and ‘no-nonsense’ otherwise, or simply like a ‘man of action but no words unless they’re barking orders’, but in reality it's more he’s been trained and pushed and frankly forced to learn how to compartmentalize, internalize, process, and then handle his emotions and such in a different way than most humans normally do. Otherwise he can and is able to express himself much like other human beings, though it's taken a solid year in SHIELD custody to get him to do it somewhat more naturally and learn how to better ‘flip the expressive switch’ inside of his head when doing so in a mental sense. It isn’t perfect, but it's more than he ever had the option of being able to do before. In that sense he’s ‘grown’ in the human sense since his capture.
He is also someone who enjoys spicy foods and cooking, and is a nerd who enjoys ‘geeky’ type of media and cheeky silly pop-culture references since he first began to indulge in such things for the first time (even plays a few video games to boot). At the same time he has remained someone highly-disciplined in how he holds himself and acts in general, and continues to do so. He is someone who enjoys sitting on the porch and watching the sun set over the hill, and feeling the cool air of a gentle fall breeze on his skin when sitting outside, or floating on his back in water even, to soothe his mind when he’s feeling either stressed enough or simply wants to be (or already is) lost in thought. He is also someone who has become detached from the trauma of his early childhood due to how he’s lived for over a decade by now, and yet at the same time retains some passing curiosity about it and is able to recall it with a superhuman clarity now that he never asked for in the first place. Yet he is also someone who feels a number of mixed emotions about those he was around in the past to boot, ones which have yet to unravel or be fully worked out as of yet.
In the end, Jason has expressed well enough that he ultimately wants to find a better course for himself. To do something better. To become someone better. Likewise, he has mostly without speaking sought to reclaim his humanity to enough of an extent moving forward. He is essentially a shooting star in the heavens, seeking a path all his own in a cold and dangerous universe that he is trying to better navigate now than he was able to before….but whose warmth and ‘warm spots’ have also consequently become more brightly visible to him than they were prior as well.
History:
It all began with an idea. A goal. A vision. An advanced weapon platform, one similar to the likes of the legendary Iron Man and yet also surpassing his designs. Something akin to a ‘miniaturized mech’ worn as powered armor by the pilot, capable of incredible speed, precision, and firepower. Something that, in the mind of its original designer, would be a tool of hope for Earth’s people to use in a seemingly very much ‘mad’ universe. Alien invasions. Ultron. Magic. Technology. Mutants. Whatever had produced all these sorts of villains, they tore apart cities. Wrecked countries. Destroyed any sense of safety and comfort that humanity perhaps had at some point in time, whenever that last was, and made them reliant on the charity and whims of what boiled down to a small few who themselves were far from incorruptible.
This was what the eventual Greek-German polymath Atticus Meyer came to believe, even after moving to the United States with his family as a young boy after a traumatic disaster back home in Germany before rising up the ranks of academia and seeking to see his vision be made manifest. Was it an obsession for him? Certainly to some extent, and yet at the same time the genius of a man was shaped by the chaos of the places he and his family lived in before he set out on his own in his adulthood. Someone who had lived in a world where security was not guaranteed, technology was rapidly advancing, and where superheroes and horrible villains alike existed around him. Thus in the end Atticus would calculate his chances, look at potential avenues, and then approach a company known as the Paradigm Corporation in an effort to see his idea to fruition.
The Paradigm Corporation, a subsidiary of Hammer Industries, seemed to be the perfect target. It was no secret that Hammer Industries was on less than amicable terms with Stark Industries and its own superhero of a ‘leading man’, as it were, and thus the promise of defeating or surpassing the number one enemy of Hammer Industries’ own CEO would likely come off as wholly enticing. Too enticing to resist, even, as the polymath hoped. Tugging at contacts before approaching the Paradigm Corporation with his formal presentation, Atticus would in particular seek to bend the ears of Hammer Industries CEO Justin Hammer to him. Anything to ‘set the stage’ and ‘rig the odds’ in his favor before he went in. And indeed the idea would find purchase with the board of the Paradigm Corporation as its potential was brought to light, likewise being helped along as Hammer Industries’ CEO would put some notable but indirect pressure on the subsidiary to take on the project. Thus “Project Talos” would be brought into existence, as it would so be named, with Atticus being hired on to assist with the project at a black site under the company’s facilities under the supervision of the Paradigm Corporation’s own Head of R&D: Sergei Radovich.
The technology itself could be developed using various advanced designs and the like that were in existence on Earth, and there were also a number of necessary ‘acquisitions’ of things like alien wreckage or the like to study and use in the project’s development in turn over time. However, the main issue of the project ended up not being the technology as much as the….pilots. Even while the project’s initial prototypes were functional enough, their specs were greater than what a human being could handle at first. Likewise, dumbed down versions lacked the promised potential in terms of firepower and capabilities that the project had tempted Paradigm and Justin Hammer himself with. Human augmentation using things such as implants, prosthetics, protective clothing, and even illegally-acquired samples of Extremis only did so much to potentially bridge the gap. Likewise, despite falling into hiring on ‘highly resilient’ mutant test pilots most human or mutant test pilots alike were hurt or maimed in one way or another by the suit or the very means being used to try to adjust them to surviving use of the prototypes.
There was a development called an “inhibitor device” that would eventually be created in the pursuit of increasing pilot survivability as well. This device acted as a sort of ‘addition’ to the prototypes, as it would automatically monitor pilot health and adjust the prototype suits’ capabilities to be survivable for the pilot based on futuristic biometric data analysis. It saw a notable increase in test pilot efficiency and a vast drop in damage done to them, and some increased funding given to Project Talos at that, though even then it was only serving to hurt the end product by further degrading its capabilities when used in combination. It did, however, save a fortune on further medical bills and the like. Even so, its success was part of the frustrations of Project Talos only grew and Atticus as well as Sergei tried to find a solution.
This solution would come with the hiring of a few ‘less scrupulous’ individuals, a decision that was made at the rather indirectly-applied pressure of Justin Hammer to the Paradigm Corporation as he discreetly monitored the development of the project from afar. Cue the entrance of one ‘Sebastian Schmidt’, a genius biochemist of seemingly Swiss origins who was brought on-staff and would ultimately greatly contribute to the project with his expertise. Sebastian would seem to buddy up with Sergei as well as Atticus, acting as a more passive ‘guiding influence’ for the project’s work. With his contribution, many of the less effective methods of attempting to create a ‘proper pilot’ for the project would be pruned in one way or another. At the same time, it would be Atticus who was inspired by a targeted but seemingly innocuous suggestion that Sebastian made one late evening as the two worked alone in the lab: “Perhaps the problem is that you are trying to perform these changes on fully grown adults, people whose bodies are far less malleable to shape and develop for such a purpose.”
It was here the man who had seen much darkness, who had sought to ethically improve the project’s results with his critical work in developing the Inhibitor Device, and had such dreams for his vision would finally be convinced to cross another line. A final line that would see him fall from grace for the sake of success. Between him and Sebastian, they were able to develop a process and methodology that would be presented to Sergei (and Justin Hammer approving it above Sergei from the shadows) for approval. Once this approval was given….the new method of trying to create viable pilots would commence.
The idea was simple. Take young enough children and begin a long-term therapy of exposure to and immersion in modified batches of Extremis, going from ‘weaker batches’ and graduating up to stronger ones over time. Temper their bodies with it in the long-term, use them to test equipment and prototypes along the way, and give them combat training as well as piloting training and education to likewise hone their skills and minds, and then from there the candidates could be weeded out until only the best remained. The best. The brightest. The ones who could pilot the final product with meticulous preparation to turn them into the optimal soldiers. The future of humanity’s protection and defense.
Using a number of black market and disposable contacts alongside more disposable means, as well as only gathering up ‘candidates’ over the course of six months, one hundred and twenty three children candidates would be acquired and imported to the facility black site discreetly for the project from the USA and around the world by illicit means. Each candidate would be given an initial treatment period of two months in the weakest batch of ‘introductory Extremis’, and from this only sixty one would survive this initial testing to move to the next trials ahead. Over the next eleven years beyond these two months, the remaining child candidates would be trained, drilled, educated, sent on limited ‘missions’ eventually, and conditioned to shape them and mold them into what the project sorely needed. The optimal pilot. Likewise, the technology itself would be improved for the project to match the growing potential of the pilots.
Many would die, go mad, or the like along the way, narrowing down the candidate pool and culling its size over and over until only three candidates were left. These three would then be unceremoniously brought to a underground arena of sorts created underneath the black site, one where they and others had tested equipment and sparred in for years, and told they had one last task before they could ‘graduate’ to the next stage of the program: They had to kill each other. Only one of them could receive the reward of the one ‘final product’ suit that had been made, one which would be used in a year’s time to show the project’s successes off to the board first before working to put it and a series of clones of the final test pilot into a greater production line. Thus the final three would be pitted against each other, fighting to survive in a bloody and brutal battle until only one of them came out as the victor.
This victor would then be taken back in, and for another year be pushed even further with even more potently modified Extremis and training. They would be polished and drilled and even sent on several further missions to ensure their performance shined like the purest glittering gold during the project’s final showcase. Even the very final product this ‘victor’ would wear was further tweaked and refined out of meticulous nervousness to prepare for the coming showcase at that.
As the momentous day finally arrived for what seemed to be Project Talos’ success, and the Paradigm Board of Directors arrived at a private above ground testing site leased out for the occasion, the showcase would finally begin as Atticus, Sebastian, and Sergei watched on with anticipation from the same observation deck as the board was in. They would explain the project’s parameters and success as the pilot performed out there for the onlookers. Flying. Ducking. Rolling. Precision fire. Etc. Yet as the pilot was doing his routine for the showcase, the test site was suddenly accosted by a rather large SHIELD force. Guns raised, superpowered help brought in, the whole metaphorical nine-yards as SHIELD cracked down on the project at the same time as a raid on the Paradigm Corporation’s facilities and concealed black site was taking place. Many were arrested, many tried to fight back, and in the end the test pilot would be subdued and captured as well.
Sebastian, for his part, would be killed by a cyanide pill stored in a fake tooth as he muttered the phrase ‘hail HYDRA’ before passing. Because, as genetic testing and a SHIELD investigation would finally turn up, Sebastian had been a clone and body double for the infamous Arnim Zola sent to help the project along and send back useful data to HYDRA. Meanwhile Atticus took a hard impact to the head and went unconscious before being captured, finally mentally snapping after he woke up in SHIELD custody after the incident. Sergei would himself die trying to shoot SHIELD operatives with a pistol taken from one of the slain company guards at the site, going down in a hail of bullets. Most of the board of the Paradigm Corporation would be arrested as well, having surrendered, with only one death occurring in the crossfire as the board’s guards attempted to fight back SHIELD. Further, a strange chain reaction of explosions that seemed to be caused by accident during the raid on the facility black site would destroy remaining samples, most machinery, and most of the final data Sebastian had not gotten to transmit yett along with it in the process.
As for the pilot? The pilot would be taken into SHIELD custody, being initially contained, then forced into therapy, and along the way being studied for around a year before an offer was brought for the pilot to join the Avengers Academy.
….It was a discussion that, in the end, the pilot would accept.
He was only five years old at the time he was taken. A kid who had lost everything in a fire, no parents, no family, not a single thing left. He’d rejected it, he’d cried, he’d screamed, and then ran away from the home he’d been temporarily placed in while they looked for his other relatives. A stupid kid with the stupid idea in his head that he would be able to find them, maybe, somewhere out there at his old home and address. They had to be. He needed them to be.
In the end, the young Daniel Taylor would be labeled a ‘missing child’ case after police were unable to find him after many days and several weeks of searching. Many assumed he was dead somewhere, or had been kidnapped, and yet the trail had gone very much cold along the way. In reality, the kid had been kidnapped by illicit types in search of a ‘payday’ by kidnapping him and bringing him and a number of other kids to men in black suits with unmarked vans and guns held in their hands. Money had exchanged hands, he and the others were forced into the vehicle owned by the men in suits, and then after the sound of shouting and gunfire rang out before he and the others were driven far away.
Such was Daniel’s experience as he, and one hundred and twenty other children in total, would be kidnapped and brought to the black site underneath The Paradigm Corporation’s facilities. Here he would see in horror as around half of the ‘candidates’ the company had acquired were injected with and immersed into modified Extremis over the course of two months, with him being one of the survivors of that initial batch. Yet despite his desire to escape somehow, the boy was terrified and forced into the harsh and disciplined training regimen that would come afterwards. At times he and some of the other surviving kids talked, got to know each other, and dreamt of escape or getting back home. Yet over the years this pool of peers shrank and shrank, and likewise the remainder of them were hardened and conditioned more and more alongside being pushed beyond their limits over and over and over again.
Less and less of them were around to talk to. The memories of what came before they were taken into this “Project Talos” became fainter and fainter or otherwise forgotten. More and more focus on their own personal survival and success began to come into their minds, simply to be able to get by. The will to live would even come to supplement much of their former secretive (albeit actually observed) camaraderie outside of the times they’d be sent on missions covertly or secretly to gather materials or kill and destroy people and places to ‘test their capabilities’ in the field. Yet even so, some shards of humanity would seemingly persist among those who remained….even if they seemed to be being worn away bit by bit by the sands of time.
By the time only three of them were left, they had forged some sort of bond in a sense. One forged in survival and training and the like, and yet filled with various deep-running cracks from the pressures placed on them and the desire to come out of the other end of all of this. Likewise as "Jason" (as Daniel was renamed at the facility) would say in his own words later on, he would call it ‘complicated as hell, but something we felt was better than nothing’ after some thought. Even so, he and the other two survivors of the last over a decade would be brought to what seemed like another training session in the underground arena before being told their ‘graduation’ was at hand. All they had to do was....genmuinely kill each other until only one was left alive standing.
For a moment they almost seemed to pause after the instructor left and the all-too-familiar ‘starting alarm’ was rung to signal the beginning of their ‘graduation’. Then almost at the same time they fired on each other in a flurry, one that erupted into tactical and chaotic combat like that even to its observers was itself a bloody and brutal affair by the end. Yet in the end, Jason ended up being the last one standing. The only candidate left. The last survivor, and one whose bloodied hands had killed the last of those he had at times been able to in some capacity or another call ‘comrades’ on or off of the field. It was an experience even then that he would describe as ‘numbing’, but still as if something had been lost beyond the blood and sweat and damaged flesh he’d sustained during that fight. Indeed, the event would cement itself in his memories with a terrifying clarity despite the following year of continued training and missions and drills and Extremis treatments that came with it as he and the project workers prepared for the final showcase.
Then when the day of that showcase arrived, but lo and behold SHIELD came barging in with serious force. Those who had made him died or were captured. The board members were arrested. Even he would be subdued and captured after putting up some kind of fight, before being taken away and locked up for a time. Then what? He had no idea what came next, but he expected death or containment of some kind more than anything. Perhaps interrogation or torture, as he had been agonizingly trained to face.
Yet…no, none of that would happen in the end. What could come was questioning and such, yes, but then nothing like the torture or ‘advanced interrogation methods’ he’d faced in his training and led to expect by his creators. Instead there was….hot food. A soft bed in his containment cell. Talking to some doctor or another who was called a ‘therapist’ in sessions held with him while he was in his cell. His food situation would improve. Eventually, when he proved willing enough to not start a mess, even time to walk around and stretch was allotted to him. Bit by bit, even if much couldn’t be undone, hard work was done to try to ‘help’ him. Help? He and others had needed help long before, and yet even this internalized frustration would dissipate some in the face of the genuine humanity being shown to him. Things that tugged on the shards of memories of the past, before he and the others had become so hardened and conditioned, and it was….almost alien to him at first, really. Then came TV shows and movies, internet and games, and many other things that over the time period he would come to actually embrace in one way or another. Sure he eventually had to test his suit and its capabilities for those who contained him, but after a while he didn’t mind it so much even.
At the end of this most strange and peculiar year and a half, Jason would then be approached in his containment room by a strange person offering him something. A chance. An enrollment, if he was willing, into something being created called “Avengers Academy”. It was a chance to help people, to do good for the world, to become something more than he had been made to be if he so wanted to choose it.
Hmm…choice. To choose it? Not simply be ordered to do it? It was still strange enough to him, but in the end he would choose to accept the offer. It was a chance. It was a gift. It was an opportunity to ‘begin anew’ for himself, and allowed for someone among all of those dead candidates to actually live more of the life they had dreamt of in hushed whispers in the dead of night. Thus, after an amount of preparation, the new prospective ‘hero’ to be known as “Alcides” would begin his journey to Avengers Academy.
Powerset: (And skills/training too?)
Extremis Serum Physiology - The effects of the modified Extremis on his body and physiology. Super Strength, Superhuman Speed/Reflexes, Superhuman Stamina, and Superhuman Durability are among the most prominent capabilities this has granted him, as well as in the case of this modified Extremis granting him a potent Regenerative Healing Factor that can keep him alive through and allow him to recover from even injuries more standard Extremis healing factors cannot (lost organs/limbs, blindness or the loss of other sensory organs, etc). His body likewise produces a notably greater amount of bio-energy than before in turn, and both his memory and even ingrained ‘instincts’.’muscle memory’ have become very superhumanly potent in their own right (note this is not ‘super smarts’).
However, the most notable ‘peculiarity’ that he seems to possess is with regards to his genetics. Due to ____’s long term exposure to modified Extremis, the effects of the serum have become integrated fully into his natural biology. Likewise, his genetics have become….strangely and superhuman resilient as well. Drastically so in this case, as he has become immune to genetic damage and has achieved ‘biological immortality’ (as in doesn’t age, not ‘doesn’t die’). This simply means he will grow to hit his physiological prime before his biological ‘aging’ will cease entirely beyond that point. This does not originate from his regenerative healing factor repairing the damage of aging, but rather exists as its own thing at the genetic level.....and is suspected to have been a secretive addition to the experimental Extremis that created Jason that wasn’t intended to be there at first.
Enhanced Combat Training/Field Experience/Education - From missions served in the field as an advanced child soldier, to a constant and harsh training regiment back at the black site, to constant sparring matches and the like held in the facility’s underground ‘arena’, to years of drilling and education in the subject alongside more mundane or advanced topics, Jason’s potential for a childhood was sacrificed to turn him into the ‘optimal pilot’ as well as a super soldier. This training, experience, and education encompasses his skills both while in his suit and even while engaging in combat or such outside of his suit, including how to handle general ‘field repairs’ manually, unarmed combat or knife-wielding combat as well as ‘dirty fighting’, disassembling/reassembling weapons, assassination or sabotage, and things like general survival skills.
Mental Conditioning/Pain Tolerance - Jason has been conditioned over the years to withstand quite a bit without giving into the pain, both in his training and in more particular ‘conditioning’ such as being forced to suffer from various extremes and even very harsh torture methods (among other things). This conditioning did include being conditioned to following orders and to follow along with the training compliantly, though did not include subversive mind control or things like ‘trigger words’ or such things that were seen as too much of a ‘liability’ for the project’s end goals. However, his pain tolerance ended up and has remained extreme after it was all said and done and SHIELD ultimately took him into its custody.
Equipment/Paraphernalia:
Aegis Mk XVII Combat Exo-Suit - Also colloquially known to those in Project Talos as “Talos” or “The Aegis”, this is the final fruits of Project Talos’ developments and is the only existing ‘final product’ combat suit created by it after over a decade and more of development, upgrades, and fine-tuning prototype designs. While admittedly a rather expensive suit to design that stands head and shoulders above the prior prototypes created by the program, it was made to showcase the full potential of the program just as the pilot of it (Jason) was created to do the same. They were not designed at all to be the ‘mass produced version of the product’ for reasons and issues of sheer costs, time, and efficiency, among other things, and the idea held even by the leaders of Project Talos was to further study the test pilot and suit to develop ‘cheaper, distinctly lesser/weaker, but still effective clones and suits’ for sale that remained true enough to the program’s aims and goals. In this vein Jason and the Aegis alike stand out as the ‘be all and end all’ of Project Talos. but also as the lone examples of the ‘true full potential of the program’ which was to be worked down from after showcase when it would come to discussing potential mass-production efforts for the suit and new pilots.
Organic Metal Construction - The one ‘secret’ of the black site hosting Project Talos that survived the explosion, only one known mutant in the world is known to utilize or possess this substance: Colossus. At the same time, the man known as the mutant “Colossus” was never even involved with Project Talos, and from recovered records of the project it seems that some unknown mutant brought in on the project was the source of it before those involved in Project Talos fully developed the means to artificially grow/create Organic Metal on their own. The substance is exceptionally tough while remaining light and very flexible for something of its durability.
Likewise, due to its organic nature it can seamlessly interface with organic materials as well. It is also in this manner the suit interfaces easily and at a deeper level with its pilot than other forms of technology seem to be able to do. Still, the Organic Metal of the Aegis alone can also protect against most man-made ordnance and even superhuman assault, which would hardly leave a scratch on the hull for the most part.
Weapons - The primary weapons of the Aegis, as designed for the Aegis in time for the showcase at least, are as follows:
-The ‘Thundercloud’ Railgun: A handheld plasma-kinetic railgun rifle. In its ‘plasma’ mode it takes in and superheats and transforms the air on a planet (or even gases and plasma in the vacuum of space) around it into a super-concentrated projectile fired with the power of a high-powered but still handheld-size electromagnetic railgun. It also is loaded with a clip of kinetic penetrator rounds, and by switching this weapon to ‘kinetic’ mode one can fire up to seven rounds from the 20mm round clip. Switching between ‘modes’ is a very easy process the pilot can do by flipping a simple non-electronic switch on the weapon.
-The ‘Harpe’ Nanite Cluster: A cluster of self-replicating and semi-organic nanites that are EMP-resistant, at least, and can form a number of pre-programmed weapon designs such as axes, machete/short swords, blades, shields, and most uniquely an arm-mounted pile-bunker. While not as durable themselves as the Organic Metal composing the Aegis, they can passively regenerate rapidly in the field. In cases of high levels of damage to the suit and/or pilot inside, these nanites will switch into ‘emergency support mode’ and work to keep the pilot alive/healthy as well as support the rest of the suit itself and its systems to restore functionalities or help maintain them and the like.
-The ‘Enyalios’ Pulse Gun: A handheld crowd-control weapon developed using the principle of a PEP or “Pulsed Energy Projectile” weapon. Taken from designs made by the US Government for a non-lethal weapon, this design was miniaturized, given rapid-fire capabilities, and turned into a lethal-or-non-lethal-capable weapon for Project Talos. It is also the most potentially mass-producible aspect of the Aegis aside from the ‘Harpe’ Combat Suite. This Pulse Gun weapon works by using a powerful invisible laser that, when fired, ablates the surface of the target and generates a small amount of exploding plasma.
The electromagnetic radiation created by this small plasma explosion in ‘non-lethal’ mode affects the nerve cells and causes pain to the target without actually hurting them, while the pressure wave generated at the same time stuns the target’s body in a localized manner at the point of impact. Combined with the weapon’s rapid-fire capabilities, the weapon can cause rapid widespread pain and stun the body parts and bodies of a number of targets, but no matter where it hits the effects remain non-lethal in full and do not cause brain or dangerous heart damage.
The electromagnetic radiation generated by the ‘lethal’ mode of this weapon is enough to scorch through flesh and bone as well as briefly semi-melt the surface of tungsten metal during the brief plasma explosion. While not enough to do something crazy like ‘shoot holes through tanks’, that’s the railgun’s job after all, it does make it a lethal and dangerous crowd-control weapon in turn.
-Built-In “Supplementary Suite”: Two smaller nanite-replenished-and-repaired means of fighting built into the suit, either to be used in supplement to its primary weapons or in the case of not having access to the suit’s primary weapons.
The first part of this ‘suite’ is a simple pair of micro-missile launchers that can pop up out of each shoulder of the unit, mostly being protected by armor and limited in size and potency to keep them compact. Each ‘launcher’ can fire a total of two micro-missiles, which are each themselves capable of blowing up a general-use car/minivan/sedan one might find on the street.
The second part of this ‘suite’ is an attempt to mimic Iron Man’s ‘repulsors’, which are installed in both palms of the suit’s hands. It is not as advanced as said repulsors, but it mimics them through the use of converting heat/energy from the pilot and surrounding air/water into superheated plasma that can be fired in a sustained ‘beam’ (not ‘bursts’ or ‘blasts’). While mostly not dangerous, using this underwater can lead to potentially….’explosive’ results if the target of the attack isn’t far enough away from the suit in such conditions.
Movement - Thrusters for movement are built into the suit, allowing for rapid and even successive bursts of high-speed movement on the battlefield, flight in the air, and even enhancing physical attacks like knee-strikes or kicks or punches. In terms of travel speed, meanwhile, the suit at its maximum speed can reach just over Mach 1 at its top speed when flying in the air specifically (or if flying just above the ground if given enough room to reach that top speed).
“Nano-Repair Suite”/‘Inactive Modes’ - The Aegis possesses a built-in “Nano-Repair Suite” dedicated to maintaining and repairing the suit actively on and off of the battlefield, though this and the organic-interfacing nature of the Synthetic Organic Metal it is made of also lends itself to another capability. The suit can break itself and its weapons down very rapidly, storing them inside the pilot’s body in hollows and spaces and ‘gaps’ in the body as tightly-condensed matter until the pilot activates it again (in which case the suit reassembles itself and the weapons overtop the pilot’s body rapidly in this case).
The Aegis can both store itself inside the pilot, going into its ‘inactive mode’ in this way, but also let out the pilot and sit there in what is called its ‘freestanding inactive mode’ as well. In its ‘freestanding inactive mode’, it does retain a small bit of energy from when the pilot was using it for purposes of powering self-maintenance/repair functions. While stored inside of the pilot’s body, or going into its general ‘inactive mode’, it helps curb the excess bio-energy in the pilot’s body at a much lower rate by tapping into it still to further power its self-repair/maintenance functions in this state (as well as helping repair/heal the pilot from within to boot). Albeit this power drain occurs in this case at a much slower and lower rate than when it is being actively used in its ‘deployed’ form.
Sensors/Computing - A sophisticated sensory array was installed into the Aegis, allowing it long-range radar, telescopic visual, infrared/thermal, and other such sensory capabilities when being used by its pilot. It can also access databases linked to it as well as interact with general wireless devices when out in the field, and is capable of very fast interfacing with its pilot and its own internal systems as well as being able to interface with the suit's own list of weapons (carried or built-in) through touch or even wirelessly. With how the suit was designed, it can be operated without needing a supporting A.I. to help manage it and its capabilities, though this comes at the cost of any such advantages a built-in A.I. might have for such a device as the Aegis as well...
Combat Knife - A gift received from one of the last two of his comrades after it was just the three of them left, and well before the ‘graduation’ ceremony, it has his name and the names of the other two former pilots etched permanently and painstakingly into its hilt. It was already like this when he was captured by SHIELD, and it was one item that he requested to keep by the time he left for Avengers Academy. To him it is a personal keepsake, something that is both a well-cared for weapon and survival tool as well as being a memento he has refused to let go of from his days back in the black site. Jason keeps this knife sheathed on his side at all times while he’s out of bed, keeps it within reach while he showers or bathes himself, and even keeps the thing close by when he sleeps for that matter.
Mauser M1932 Pistol - A refurbished WW2-era German pistol produced by Mauser, it was a family heirloom of Atticus’ German grandfather. Said grandfather worked in a factory that produced those particular arms after 1937, before acquiring one for ‘personal protection’ and eventually using it when fleeing with his family and two Jewish families on a dangerous route to get to the United Kingdom in 1941. He then passed it down to his son when the family moved back to West Germany after World War 2, who in turn eventually passed it down to Atticus as a family legacy. Then Atticus (who had no children of his own) passed it down to Jason after his ‘graduation ceremony’ as a gift after pulling him aside to talk with him. The weapon has been cleaned and refurbished, still uses a 10-round detachable box magazine, and chambers 9x19mm ammunition that can still be found on the modern market.
In some ways it can be considered the last ‘sane’ bit of Atticus that the man gave away to try to help another, as in the man’s eyes Jason was basically like a child of his since the beginning. Especially after the ‘graduation ceremony’ of all things. Someone that, despite it all and the scientist’s own internal struggles along the way, that Atticus was genuinely proud of for surviving and getting that far. Despite falling from grace and already having gone a bit ‘mad’ by then to a certain extent, this perceived relationship of seeing them like his children was what drove Atticus to over time show some kindnesses to the ‘subjects’ and then final ‘test pilots’ over time. Indeed when the man woke up after being captured and finally ‘snapped’, Jasoon was brought to see him four times during his own captivity to see if his presence could help SHIELD get more information out of Atticus. Atticus would go into a state of rare semi-rational questionable lucidity upon seeing him where they could even almost converse properly to some extent.....at least until the older man began to sink back into the mire of his own mind one more.
Weaknesses: Weaknesses is exactly that; the flaws in your character, whether emotional, physical, or technological. Point out weak spots in their powers, character flaws that can be exploited, or vulnerabilities in their gear that could be detrimental. Like before, an example will be provided.
Excess Bio-Energy/BOOM - Due to being essentially an organic battery for his suit, Jason’s excessive production of bio-energy is being kept in check when he pilots or dons it for periods of time. This certainly makes him less prone to potentially exploding, though if he does not drain the excess bio-energy for overly long periods of time the risk to potentially explode will notably increase instead.
No Heat/Electricity Attacks - Donning the suit to keep his bio-energy in check results in him being unable to project this bio-energy as heat-based or electrical attacks like most users of Extremis could. This is due to the constant drain the suit puts on him, which leaves energy levels too low to be able to do this sort of thing. On the other hand, if he goes too long with the suit then he could unleash such attacks….but this comes alongside other risks (as noted in the prior entry above this).
Organic Metal Weaknesses - Only when extraordinarily powerful individuals or other super-metals (or of course, abilities that can influence machinery in some fashion) get involved when the material can truly be found lacking.
Railgun Weaknesses - While this weapon doesn’t work underwater in any firing mode, or when submerged in water for that matter. Generally air humidity otherwise is regulated by built-in filters for the weapon and doesn't affect it for the most part in any firing mode, but something like a sauna or the middle of the steamy rainforest after a fresh rain though? It can still work, but it works a lot slower than normal under such circumstances when in its ‘plasma’ mode while respectively being unaffected in kinetic mode under such environmental circumstances in turn.
Aegis Internal Pilot Storage - If the suit stores itself inside the body of the pilot, it does inherently have the obvious drawback of making the pilot’s body super-dense and easier to sink. Not a fun time to be sure if in a body of water or on a fragile surface….hence why the ‘external storage’ method was developed for it so the pilot isn’t always forced to store the suit inside of their body.
Prior Conditioning - For over a decade Jason was molded into the optimal specimen for Project Talos, and as such he is a trained (and was a child) soldier who exhibits all the issues of someone trained in that manner and who lived such a life in the psychological sense. While he has become ‘better’ than he was over the course of his year in SHIELD custody, some things like ‘don’t go for certain areas of the body when doing unarmed combat training’ are still, er, either new to him or so ingrained that they remain a reflex.
This also comes with the notion that he is still learning ‘what to expect’ from training and such, and could react more or less brutally in application on his end of things, after having been trained so brutally and harshly and intensively over the years prior to SHIELD taking custody of him. This doesn’t mean he hasn’t been told to and reminded to expect something not on par with what he’s gone through before in training and education, but ah…..old reflexes are still at times going to be hard to notice and work on restraining when you were used to the instructor going for your knees before.
(Anything Else Listed In The Prior Sections Of The App Potentially)
Issue #0/Testing Post:
Clank. Clunk. Clank. Clunk. His boots weren’t made of metal, but on the hollow walksways reaching over to another part of the complex’s ‘containment unit’ they sure made a thud of sorts. Nothing he wasn’t used to, and yet the occasion for walking to elsewhere in the SHIELD facility was certainly something he wasn’t used to. Even so the door slid open with a gentle but swift ‘woosh’, and while the nearly pin-drop-silent exterior had been one things…..the sounds inside of it were something else entirely as he, and Sub-Commander Francois walked inside. More like a blood-curdling howl into some imaginary night air than anything else.
“My babies! All of them! Dead! Oh please, please my children, forgive me for doing this!”
Thump. Thump. THUMP. Thud. CRASH.
Before them was a clear-walled cell, or at least it was from the front, though it had been lined with copious amounts of tear and bashing-proof padding of some description. It assuredly wasn’t a cell of as high of a security level as his own was, and yet at the same time held something inside mostly to….keep it safe, it could perhaps be said, in this instance. Though what was being kept safe from who depended upon the perspective.
“I did it! I did it all! It’s real, its…..I….I….what have I done….no, by the heavens what have we done?! They’re all dead! No, please, I didn’t mean for this. But I did it anyway! Every last damned bit of it, and now you won’t stop talking to me!”
Within the cell sat an older man, one who had been thrashing around initially, though seemed to have stopped for a bit as his restraints were mechanically tightened through remote-control as he had been forcefully ‘swaddled’ a bit tighter by his straightjacket and seemed to make him slow down a little more. His body seemed almost as frail as wet paper, and yet his strength seemed like that of a man possessed. Perhaps he was….perhaps not. His thinning white hair, once a Mediterranean-esque dark brown that nearly looked black, was regardless frayed and tossed and messy as anything, with signs that it might be close to needing another trim. Even so, his contrastingly bright green eyes seemed to flit about as if covered in a haze as if he was looking at something no one else could see….or ‘somethings’ really.
“Ah! The blood!!! There…..oh there’s so much blood! Please, get it off of me! It’s staining my skin! My clothes! My hair! Get it out, get it out! Please, please I don’t want to hear your voices anymore! I’m damned to hell as it is, but please stop! I can’t….please….somebody save me…..pleeeeeeease….”
The last agonized, squeaking plea for help from the genius’ mouth cut through the air like a knife, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. And indeed, as they walked closer he could see more to the cell than perhaps met the eye. Scrawlings, drawings, scribbled almost like a child on the floor. Some looked like planes. Some thunderbolts. Others looked like exploding bombs. Yet even among this were mathematical and chemical formulae, internals for some peculiar machine yet to be invented or made, and most notably….the word ‘sorry’ seemingly carved deeper than the rest into whatever it could be. The bed that had gone irregularly used, from the looks of it, and its metal frame had been the canvas for that it seemed….before the restraints came into play at that, if he had to take a guess.
The weight in its holster on his right hip felt even greater with each step he took toward the cell, until as the two of them got close enough the old man in the cell seemed to suddenly stop in place. It was as if he’d been frozen in time, his head craned back and to the side until his eyes had discovered their presence. Yet the SHIELD Sub-Commander wasn’t what the intense focus of those eyes was fixated upon. Rather, he was.
“My boy….oh my boy! You’re alive! Oh bless this day, you’re alive my child!”
The old man swiveled back around and seemed to sit his butt hard down on the floor with a plastic-y ‘SLAM’ in short order. His legs crossed as if he was sitting for story-time in turn. Yet as two chairs were brought up for them to sit in, his own closer to the cell than the one for Francois, the old man let out a jubilant laugh.
“I had thought your voice was calling to me like all the rest, but no. Oh frabjous day! Callou! Callay!”
“....Yes sir. It’s me.”
“Oh my boy it's been awful since then, but Sergei’s been sneaking in to tell me things. Maybe we can get you out yet! Then we must go see my sister and her children back in Berlin. Chose to move back there despite the mess….oh the dirty, nasty mess back there. Almost wiped out the city, you know? It's why our parents left that forsaken place….but….really nowhere is safe.
Yes. It's why you-....why all of them had-.....but I had to sell them on it, and I had to….I had to complete the-….oh….no! Please no not again! Please, not the blood!”
The older man seemed to start craning his neck again all over, as his voice near the end of his speaking turned again almost into a bestial howl, though pulling out the growing weight on his right hip he flashed the glimmer of metal in front of the man. Something shiny. Something he could perhaps recognize as he quickly piped up to speak to him again.
“Director Attic-.....Sir. I’m here. You….don’t have to look at the blood right now. Just look at this. Follow my voice.”
The old man froze again before he could wind himself all the way back up, the glimmer of metal bringing him back down into his ‘criss cross applesauce’ sitting position with another loud ‘THUD’. Indeed, the older man’s face would press closer to the clear side wall of the cell between them as he turned his head a little to get a good look at it. In turn, however, ____ silently rotated the gun a bit for the older man to see a bit better.
“Ah….that was my father’s, you know! Brought him and his father safely to the United Kingdom in World War Two. He lived there for a time before grandfather took them back to Berlin after it was partitioned off….wanted to see if his brother’s family was still alive there. Last he’d heard of them.
In fact my mother met my father there, in Berlin, after grandfather had settled down there after the war. Didn’t have the inkling to return to where he’d once lived and worked otherwise really…can’t say I blame him in hindsight. But my parents loved the streets, even though my grandfather barely left home anymore after a particular episode he had out in the city one day. Just froze up as if someone was going to shoot him……he had been holding my hand that day even. I always wondered why it happened, but father never told me until I was much older after that day about the reasons.
That weapon….it saved lives you know. Ours. The two Jewish families grandfather brought along with his own along the way that had been his neighbors or friends at some point in time even. Filthy Nazis, damn Nazis, bastards sullied the damned world and ruined us! German? Oh sure, let’s use the damn Germans as STEROTYPE EVIL VILLAINS AND FILTHY BEASTS BECAUSE HITLER AND SCHMIDST DECIDED TO-....to-….to…
Ah! My boy you’ve still got it! Oh I hope it serves you well. I….I’ve not done a thing to deserve keeping that. I wanted to pass it onto my kids, but after the accident back home I….we….my wife couldn’t take it after all we’d invested into the idea of our happy family. I couldn’t either.
But you, dear boy! ___! Oh I remember yours and the others’ names….I still….I still do….I can’t let myself forget….I can’t ever forget….but they just keep ringing in my ears! Talking to me. Screaming Crying. So much pain….
But maybe that heirloom will serve you better than it did myself. Save more lives. Yes, once we get the project funded I can finally help them all! A world where no man has to feel like grandfather ever did again, where the damned walls and soviets or turks aren’t mucking things up for so many people, and where even that damned alien who destroyed it all can’t make the children of the world afraid ever again!!! And then I can bring them back, they’ll all see! Then we can be a big, happy-….and maybe my wife will….ah….its hurts….please…..please make the voices stop….”
He looked back silently as the older man rambled on, his face wrought in ironclad stoicism as a couple of his fingers gently rubbed the surface of the gun unconsciously. He would silently nod every so often as well, hoping the older man could see, though ultimately a very soft sigh would escape his lips as the old man seemed to descend back more into his more depressed ramblings.
“It will. I’m going to help people, just like you wanted to do.”
“You….are?”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
“That’s…..maybe I managed to….oh…..oh the voices….and the blood! THE BLOOD!!! Mother! Please I need you, just to hear your voice again! Please! Father, why are you glaring at me so? Are you taking their side?! Why those little….no, nonono they weren’t-.....they didn’t deser-.....oh….oh…..OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
For a moment it was as if he was looking back into the eyes of a man who had more hope for the world. Or perhaps he’d been hiding all of that stuff behind hopeful eyes, all of this time, and when those eyes faded he’d finally been left alone in the dark finally. He still didn’t fully know what to think. He didn’t want to call him what he’d asked him to, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to truly hate the man either. It was…..messy, far from what he’d been trained to do. Training that had torn him to pieces and rebuilt him as something, someone, else. And yet he could rely on that same training to get him through in the end, somehow, in what was perhaps a cruel twist of irony.
As Francois tapped him on the left shoulder, ____ looked back and nodded at the man before holstering the Mauser he had been holding out in his right hand gently back into its leather holster. He then gently stood up from the chair, just as the other man did, turning his gaze back toward the doorway they’d come in from….and not looking back at the old man returning to the height of his hysterics behind him. He could hear it, but he could also tune it out so easily it was terrifying….or perhaps comforting? Still couldn’t fully tell about that either, really, but maybe one day he would be able to. One day.
Clank. Clunk. Clank. Clunk.
The boots he wore now sounded just like the ones he’d worn before as he walked back toward the door. Sounded the same as they had for a very long time at that, even as they left and the door ‘wooshed’ closed behind them again.
Did that mean these boots were the same as those ones? Maybe. Maybe not. Only time would tell, really, but he had a new mission to pursue and focus upon. One he had chosen for himself, or at least he thought so, that he’d have to see the results of later in hindsight. But maybe the open sky before him now wasn’t wholly his though. Perhaps some of it was just the torn-up fragments of the utterly distant dreams of a genius-turned-madman, fragments that shone like stars before him. Yet he couldn’t deny that, if such was the case, the same starry fragments likewise lingered in the very twilit background that bloody and haunted creature behind him was howling into.
Did that make those two vistas they saw the one and the same? Again, perhaps so. Only time, and the days ahead, would be able to tell…
The SHIELD Sub-Commander ran a hand down his face as he sat at his desk, before looking back up at the Agent standing at attention in front of him. He could already feel the wrinkle lines in his own face growing older and older at the mere thought of what he’d been told. It was something he expected to see from some barbaric warlord in Africa, but to have it happen on US soil of all things? They’d already lost most of the black site, as well as the destruction done to Paradigm facilities sitting above it, and the raid on the showcase had lost them one suspect in the crossfire despite being a general success.
This was just icing on the cake.
“Humor me here, please, but the one piloting the damn thing was just….some kid? You’re sure, Agent Ortez?”
The hispanic man standing before him would solemnly nod after a moment of pause, before gesturing again to the documents he’d placed on the commander’s desk. A stack of printed reports and the details of the initial examination of the subject sat in front of the older man, clear as day and yet still something that managed to seemingly get him to feel disbelief at something as….well, as comparatively mundane as this. Mundane. What was mundane in the world anymore? Aliens, galactic deaths of trillions at the snap of a finger, magic, mutants, demons from hell, what else was new anymore? What else wasn’t the world seeing go on? So something like this, somehow, was more surprising than the rest of it.
“The subject, after powering down the suit they were operating, was found to be in their late teens after further observation and quarantine. Likewise what surviving lab records we possess take note of the subject’s age as well, though where the subject was taken from is still entirely unclear. However, it seems that the-”
“Yes yes, I read that part. This thing was going on for longer than we thought it was, a lot longer in fact. Hell the kid was killing a fair few of our agents out there as it was, and I still don’t want to believe it to some extent.
Is the pilot properly contained? Bells and whistles and everything based on what was observed in the field?”
“Yes sir, just as you requested after speaking with Commander Fury on the matter before relaying it to us. The containment cell itself was made of highly-rated materials in case of an attempted escape by the pilot, being highly resistant to kinetic damage, high-grade explosives, and thermal capabilities. We’ve got three heavily-armed and prepared guard units keeping a constant vigil on the subject’s cell as well in shifts, armed with heavy anti-electronic weapons and and gas vents installed in the roof of the cell that automatically go off in case of cell damage caused from the inside. There is also-”
Sub-Commander Francois Alderson would silently nod as the agent listed out the containment measures in a general sense. Even so, his tired brown eyes, expression, and aging gray-ish blonde hair seemed to reflect something of an exasperated mood still. He wanted to know if the checklist of safety provisions was sufficient, and so didn’t mind hearing it all over again for what felt like the millionth time in the last few days, yet all the same the matter still troubled him to a certain extent. Sure he’d been ‘snapped’ away for a while with the whole Infinity War mess, but even so he wondered…..if a lot of them had still been around, could they have stopped it any earlier? Found the trail of breadcrumbs just a little sooner, and maybe given the poor kid a chance?
“Ortez….how’s he doing?”
The agent stopped his listing, closing his lips in another brief silence before looking back in his CO’s eyes and nodding once more.
“He seems to sleep as little as he needs to remain alert, and keeps a close if not trained eye on anything he can hear and see from his containment cell. We had to keep the walls of it clear so we could keep an eye on him, but he seems to be doing the same with us. Also seems as if he’s….expecting something.
Energy levels in his body are also rising at a notable rate, sir, and Captain Asha requests installing something to siphon his energy reserves given its….er…given the Extremis he seems to have been imbibed with based on initial analysis.”
“Well there’s no telling what Meyer and all of the others did to him, or made him expect out of a situation like this, but see if he’ll take food this evening. Tell Asha she can install the measures underneath the floor, but I am not letting anyone in there directly for now. I also want three extra teams down there with her and the workers.”
“Yes sir!”
“And Agent.”
“Yes?”
“I want to go see the prisoner right now.”
“....Yes sir!”
It was a bit of a walk to get to the containment block in the facility from the offices, but there was a good reason for that as well. Security offices were close, just as the response stations were, but in case of a ‘worst case scenario’ they wanted to be able to evacuate staff and other non-combat personnel in a hurry. Beyond that, it had taken some space to build the containment sector of the SHIELD facility they were in to be able to be ‘customized’ for keeping particular sorts of ‘residents’ in them. Because this facility was made to handle and process and contain a number of high-security or ‘potentially variant’ threats of a notable sort. The sorts of things and people that couldn’t be kept behind normal bards or in simpler SHIELD facilities…..even the sorts that they had no idea what to do with for that matter, like that pilot they’d captured in the planned raid on the Paradigm Corporation.
Even as the two men’s shoes clanked over suspended metal walkways heading into the containment sector, passing rows of armed guards and security stations and the like, Francois couldn’t help but feel a grim expression come to his face all the same. The kid here was as old as one of his grandsons was getting, for pity’s sake, and while he’d seen a lot worse things come through here (or attack the facility for that matter) this one felt more personally disturbing than most others had felt to him over the years. A kid. A child soldier who could kill like that, who’d been doing it for heaven knows how long, and for all he knew had parents out there worried sick over him thinking their kid was dead or long gone.
“Sub-Commander Francois on deck!”
The guards currently on shift would each salute with one hand as the Sub-Commander and Agent came into the room, before in turn each soldier’s finger returned back onto the trigger guard of their primary weapon. No more than one set of eyes at a time looked away from the subject at any given time, or left them out of their peripheral vision, and EM-turrets and other tentative measures were looking on the subject with their own even more eternal vigil.
“At ease, and maintain your duties. I just wanted to observe the prisoner for myself after everything I’ve read on the incident so far.”
The kid’s dark eyes seemed to snap over to him in an instant as he spoke, and in turn the french-american man would stare right back.
They had no idea what else this kid could be hiding, or what he might do, and thus until Fury gave orders one way or another they’d have to remain on high-alert for this one and keep a careful eye on someone that was only some days ago painting the brains of some of their best trained general combat agents all over the concrete and terrain. It was a terrifying prospect that one of Hammer’s own subsidiaries had become wrapped up in this, but the weasel wasn’t going to go down with that ship either….hell, Hammer Industries had already approached SHIELD for ‘full cooperation’ in prosecuting Paradigm to try to sugar-coat it all a little bit to boot.
Yet that aside, just looking into the kid’s eyes Francois felt something all-too familiar begin to prick at the back of his mind. Something he didn’t much care for as an old soldier himself in the personal sense, but which would gradually bring itself further and further forward to the front of his mind that he didn’t bother to stop it. That look. The look not of a cornered animal, but something that expected pain. Expected torture, perhaps, for what he was and had done. Perhaps he even expected to die at any point in time that he or the guards so willed it. And yet despite expecting it, he did not seem to visibly fear it at the same time.
“...What’s your name, soldier?”
The words slipped out of the older man’s mouth like he was talking to a subordinate back when he had been in the service for the USA’s own. The kid only seemed to stare back silently in response, though neither’s eyes seemed to waver from meeting the other’s gaze. Eventually, however, the boy seemed to stand up with a straight back to look at him at least. Was pretty tall too, but nothing the old soldier was intimidated by either as he unwaveringly maintained his own standing posture. Then again, he wasn’t sure if the kid was going to try something or if he was even trying to be intimidating at all….hmm.
“Silent? Understandable enough, I suppose. In your eyes it must seem like we’re going to do something to you any second. Just one twitch of the muscle in the wrong direction….then BAM! Something happens. Or perhaps we are waiting for you to let your guard down, and then in comes the torture the moment you aren’ watching, hmm?”
The kid seemed to stare back without moving a muscle even still.
“I’ve a grandson your age. Kid plays football, runs around with friends, gets into trouble, the whole nine yards. Told me once he wants to join the military….follow in my footsteps where his dad was physically unable to. Told me he was proud of me, hell, got me to take him to a shooting range more than once when I was visiting his folks. Heh. You two are about the same height, all things considered, at that.”
“....”
“But truth be told, I wish he wouldn’t. You see, I want him to do what he wants in this world. I want him to be away from the messes that keep cropping up all over the place. Away from the horrors of things like….seeing the guy in front of you, knowing one of you’s got to pull the trigger, and at the same time he’s just pissing himself in as much fear as you’re feeling in that moment. Away from seeing the brains of some mother’s son or daughter’s father plastered all over the wall like Jackson Pollock turned into Marilyn Manson on a dime, even though the two of you were just talking over drinks a few short hours ago. Away from feeling like you’re trapped in the hell of the battlefield, and part of you just wants to cut and run no matter what it means….but you can’t run at the same time. Because if you run, you won’t survive it. Because you don’t want to die.”
“...”
“I see that look in your eyes like they're my own a little bit there. Even saw it in the eyes of people serving under me, and saw it in the eyes of people who didn’t deserve to be forced to feel like that in the first place. I’ve seen that stare that goes for a thousand yards and more as well….I’ve seen the look of fear in the eyes of the dead, or the resignation in what’s left of a face after a firefight.
Men. Women. Children. The more I went along in the service the more I began to understand. Nothing can get those things out of my head forever, as if they never left their mark on me in the first place. But I sure as hell can keep living. Living for me. Living for my family and loved ones. Living, perhaps, even for the sake of the poor sods who didn’t make it this far with me or who didn’t want to die. Or at least that’s my look on things.
…But if you wish to remain silent, that’s fine. Perhaps one day we’ll get to talk, but talk as men. Not as a prisoner and warden, but as men who have seen things and been through things that no one else should have to.”
Letting out his own sigh, Francois began to turn back around as he nodded to Ortez. It was time to go back to his office, but part of him wondered why he’d decided to say such things to this prisoner. This kid. This child soldier. This enemy who had not long ago killed even a few field agents he knew by name and face, and had even sent Christmas cards to during the holidays at that. Yet as Ortez looked to him to nod, the agent seemed to freeze suddenly for a moment…before putting a hand on the Sub-Commander’s shoulder.
Turning back around partly, Francois looked back with his eyes for a moment only to freeze in place himself. And, then, he finished turning back around as he felt a small smile come to his face. His back straightened up. His posture was formal. His hand, then, straightened out and came up to his forehead.
A salute….in return for the one the prisoner was giving him back.
A sign of respect for authority, and this kid was giving him one. A silent one, but it was clearly a proper salute.
For a second, Francois felt he could almost see a glimmer of something else in the kid’s eyes to boot as well. Hope? Slightly less tension? A silent way of giving him mutual recognition? It almost didn't matter to Francois in this case, but he wasn’t going to not return that respect or gesture in kind either. It could just be nothing as well, just something to lure him into a more comfortable position. Eh. But part of him didn’t feel like that was the case here. Not in this situation.
Perhaps there was hope for the kid yet, if nothing else. Hope for something better. But for now, they’d have to take it just like anything else: One day at a time.
...And he hoped they could meet each other there one day.
While it still says WIP, reading over things, it looks pretty complete xD. So on the presumption that it actually is as done as it looks, I'm more than happy accepting Elias. :D
This is overdue, but after having reread through the whole sheet, the most I could find to complain about is how short her History is, but I find many other parts to the sheet help fill that out anyhow, so without further ado....Mazie is a go!
Jeez, who picked out their hero names? I sure hope it wasn't themselves...Jokes aside though, Johan and Valentine both seem good! Most I could harp on is a pretty short test-post, but it does the important thing those're meant to do, which is get the feel of the characters across (even if the feel for one of them is never talking once lmao). I'll consider them accepted!
Okay, yeah, no surprise, Jason is accepted. I've been seein' ya work through him for the better half of a month with stellar results, and it definitely pays to see him for real now. Welcome to the team!
@Mintz thanks. Yeah it was pretty much done i just left that in case I wanted to rewrite the sample post but everything else was gonna stay the same. But Ill move him over.
for anyone else though if yall want to discuss possible future relations with Elias just PM me.
"They say lightning never strikes twice… what a load of bullshit."
Real Name: Cassius “Cash” Munroe.
Age: 20.
Gender: Male
Alias/Nicknames: Galvanize, Cash,
Color Choice: #7df9ff Color Hex Electric Blue.
Appearance: Cassius is usually seen with very trendy street attire, ranging from air jordans to levi jeans, he takes great pride in what he wears, rocking some popular beats headphones, he tends to be listening to them when alone, finishing off with what appears to be some very stylish lightning burn marks on his jacket, mapping out a proof of the extent of his powers that he wears as a badge of honour hidden in plain sight. Whilst under the name Galvanize, his hair shoots up, instead of his casual spiky loose hair, injecting white streaks of hair into his look, a static energy envelops him with tiny bolts of lightning travelling, scattering randomly around him as his eyes match that electric blue, the calming eyes in the midst of the storm.
Personality: Just like alternating current (AC), his demeanour shifts periodically, as we wields both his calm and relaxed composure, to his outgoing almost over-confident display, most of the time you see him not caring about situations that he thinks can be handled without him, but for the more perspective of the bunch, he always has his eyes sharpened to interject if necessary. Usually seen lost in his own little world taking photos, posting and interacting on his social media, he tends to show a lot of pride when it comes to his following.
History: Being the child of Storm and Nightcrawler, great things have always been expected from Cassius, when his powers came to him at a young age, his parents had very different plans for him, whilst Nightcrawler wanted him to have a very leisure and relaxed life away from being a mutant, Storm wanted to nurture it and have him grow into his coming responsibilities, jumping from training and school life, switching between two worlds Cassius felt as if he didn't feel at home in either one, until he starting taking things into his own hands, as with age we wanted to live his life his own way. His innate charismatic nature grew him a very successful schooling life, whilst also landing him a modeling gig, making a good amount of money and giving birth to his social media footprint, avoiding his calling throughout a long time, but as most know, there are things that are just inevitable.
When Thanos invaded Earth and managed to collect all 6 infinity stones, leading to the infamous snap that eradicated half of life as we know it in the existing universe, and fate would hold no punches back towards Cassius' life, for he did not only lose one parent, but both, reduced to nothing but mere dust, without even a chance to say goodbye, Cassius felt more lost and alone than ever, spiraling into a frenzied rage and depression, drawing all of the lightning into his body, he bolted right through the night sky fleeing New York City to an isolated holiday house they had in the countryside in a neighboring state, to mourn the loss of his parents in segregation.
After a few days of grieving, he returned back to a chaos-ridden city, The once vibrant metropolis had become a playground for criminals both armed with countless lethal weapons, and some with their own superhuman abilities. With every corner hiding a new threat, the city's skyline is a battleground of skyscraper clashes and frenetic energy. The NYPD, overwhelmed and understaffed, waging a relentless battle to maintain order in this bedlam of an urban jungle, being weakened by every wave of superpowered crime that threatens to engulf the city. Amidst the turmoil, a small, dedicated group of heroes fight valiantly to protect the city. Their numbers are few, but their determination is boundless. Yet, it's clear that something more is needed to tip the scales back toward justice, and only a matter of time before they too are overwhelmed and defeated.
For years, Galvanize has lived a quiet life, keeping his extraordinary abilities hidden from the world. But as New York City brims on the edge of destruction, he can no longer stand idly by, as he feels the coursing rush of adrenaline shooting through his veins, the static shock building on the tip of his hair, and the words that he remembers from his mother: "Remember, my child, greatness flows through your veins, do not deny it, embrace the tempest within, my son, for within every storm lies the power to shape worlds. You are not defined by the thunder that echoes through your veins, but by the lightning that sparks in your heart. The world hungers for a hero, and you carry the legacy of storms. Unleash your power, soar through the winds of destiny, The world awaits your thunderous call, my dear, and it's time to let your inner storm rage!".
Galvanize tapped into the tempestuous energies of the sky above. His eyes crackled with lightning as he summoned the fury of a storm that would make his mother proud. Rain poured in torrents, winds howled, and thunder rolled, lightning arcing from his fingertips, he wielded the storm like an extension of himself, using precise strikes to neutralize his superpowered adversaries, sending them flying and crashing into buildings, stunning others and neutralizing the more dangerous of the mass, But it was more than just his mastery of the storm that set Galvanize apart; it was his unwavering determination and belief in the hero within himself. With each flash of lightning, he carried the legacy of his mother's courage and the weight of his city's hopes. In the heart of the chaos, Galvanize emerged victorious, defeating the superpowered criminals and restoring a measure of order to the city. With his powers honed and his resolve unshaken, he had become the hero New York needed, forging a legacy of his own alongside the legendary Storm.
Powerset:
Lightning Creation - Galvanize can easy produce lightning from his own body, using it both offensively and defensively, shooting out lightning bolts, and other means of attacks.
Lightning Reflexes - Galvanize’s body is energized with his own unique electrons, making the signals that his brain sends to his body near instantaneous, following the motto of one of his most cherished idols: <Snipped quote by Muhammad Ali>
Lightning/ Electric Manipulation - Galvanize can utilize the existing electricity that resides in our modern world and weaponize it or even rejuvenate himself, empowering his attacks or altering the electric machine/ equipment to turn on, off, or activate its action properties, and in very rare moments, weaponizing natural lightning itself.
Hyper Bolt - Concentrating all of his lightning into every cell of his body, Galvanize can dematerialize and shoot himself out into god-like speed, reaching up to Mach 364, in other words, from one point of New York city to the other (35 miles) in half a second, but with so much power, comes equal strain, as as he stands now he can only pull this off for around 5 seconds, risking straining and exhausting his body if pushed beyond his limit.
Equipment/Paraphernalia:
Iphone 19: A special custom-made Iphone with lead plated inlinings to protect the phone from being constantly fried on the spot whenever he surges with powers.
Air Jordans: A special durable material being stitched into the material of these fashionable sneakers, making them both extremely conductive without wearing down the shoes.
Weaknesses:
Irritable: His pride is very important to him, Galvanize’s psyche isnt the sturdiest when it comes to insults or being shamed, lashing out irrationally at times getting him to trouble.
Durability: Even though landing a blow on Galvanize with his lightning speed, his body is only a little above average in terms of durability when it comes to direct force.
Field Experience: While Galvanize is strong and has practised his moves many times, he has very little experience actually in the fray of real life situations where he has had to think of teammates, civilians, callatatole damage, etc.
Issue #0/Testing Post: In the heart of the bustling New York City, where skyscrapers reach the heavens and the energy of urban life surges through the streets, a local diner that had become over the years a sanctuary for a young Cassius Munroe. With his charming smile, playful demeanor, and a secret identity known only to the closest friends, Cassius was the epitome of a carefree adolescence. Today was supposed to be just another day of ordinary fun with his college friends.
The diner was bathed in warm, golden light, and the smell of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee filled the air. As they entered Cassius exclaimed: “Order up peeps, this one’s on me, not like Barry brought any money with him anyways” he and his friends occupied their usual booth, laughing uproariously as they indulged in mouthwatering burgers and thick milkshakes.
His laughter was infectious, and it spread like wildfire through the tight-knit group. They talked about their upcoming exams, weekend plans, and inside jokes only they could understand.
Outside, however, chaos erupted suddenly. A supervillain, known as Typhoid Mary, known for her destructive prowess, had decided to unleash her malevolent tendencies upon the city. The street was a battleground, with Mary wreaking havoc, and as quickly as she came, so did the cavalry, as several seasoned superheroes appeared to thwart her sinister plans.
“Well, that’s new york for ya, can’t go 10 minutes without someone who didn’t get enough attention as a kid trying to run amok…”
As the commotion outside escalated, Cassius's friends couldn't help but stare in awe at the epic confrontation unfolding before them. The blinding flashes of energy, the thunderous crashes, and the distant cries for help painted a vivid picture of the superhero world's constant turmoil.
But Cassius, though capable of extraordinary feats, was different. He had a burning desire to leave his superhero persona behind for the majority of his day and simply revel in the joys of his youth. He had never had the push nor drive to jump into the fray, and the constant pressure to save the day, and the never-ending cycle of heroics, was never something that attractive to him. He longed for a sense of normalcy and the ability to savor the simple pleasures of life.
One of his friends exchanged glances, torn between their admiration for Cassius's heroic alter ego and their understanding of his desire for peace. He knew that Cassius was one of the city's brightest beacons of potential, but they also recognized that he was just a young adult who deserved a break from the relentless drama that accompanied his dual life.
“They’re doing fine, to be honest, I think they are holding back, they always do”
As the world outside continued to tremble, Cassius's internal struggle intensified. He stared at his friends, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing. Deep down, he could hear his mother yearned for him to join the battle, to use his powers for good and make a difference in the world. But today, at this moment, all he wanted was to be a regular guy, laughing with his friends in their cozy booth, and savoring the fleeting joys of youth.
In the end, Cassius decided to remain at the diner, where laughter, friendship, and the simple pleasures of life were a respite from the chaos outside. He knew that the world would always call upon him to be a hero, but for now, he just wanted to be a kid, relishing a moment of tranquility amidst the storm of superheroic duty, as it came into an inevitable stop as Typhoid Mary was stopped in her tracks after an intense battle, luckily no one was hurt, but there was still a coiling knot in Cassius’ chest, as he whispers to himself: “Sorry ma…”.
💞 Ororo Munroe (Storm) & Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) 💞 A loving mother and father, both with a full-time job of saving the world from constant peril, results in many nights that Cassius is found eating alone in his room. His resentment towards his parents is closely matched by his love and admiration for them, for being a child of these two great mutants, comes with the heavy burden, of both wanting to make them proud and to also find his own footing in the world. Whilst Storm has always wanted to shape her son into becoming her eventual replacement, Nightcrawler wanted a safer and more controllable environment, away from the dangers of being a superhero. With constant debate between the 2 of them, Cassius always found himself split between two worlds that almost never managed to coexist. 💕💜 Jason Lee 💜💕 Amongst the sea of friends that Cassius has made, there are only a few that he truly trusts, and even amongst them, Jason is a diamond in the rough. From middle school to college, they were always there for each other. Both majoring in Astrophysics, their rivalry and good sportsmanship have sparked a brotherhood so fruitful, that Jason is the only one amongst all of Cassius' friends to actually know his secret identity. 🎆 Thor 🎆 The Son of Asgard itself, weaving of thunder and lightning, is a man so strong that he basically does as he pleases. Cheerful and carefree, Cassius relates to Thor a lot, down to the point of him not being up to his more demanding parent, ever since being able to spark his first tiny bolts, he has always looked up in admiration to the god of lightning as a shining role model and hero. 👹 Thanos 👹 Having robbed him of his parents for so many years, and turning the world into a festering pool of crime that to this day it has yet to recover, Cassius holds a special turmoil and detestation towards the mad titan, as per the mere mention of his name sets Cassius off his rails, wanting nothing but to grasp the chance to deck the madman right across his distinctively weird creased chin.
Alright, given that the more recent changes I requested are minor, I'll overlook them and say you're accepted - tentatively. If I don't see those extra changes within a week of the RP starting, I...Well, I'll be upset! So there! >:C
Alright, given that the more recent changes I requested are minor, I'll overlook them and say you're accepted - tentatively. If I don't see those extra changes within a week of the RP starting, I...Well, I'll be upset! So there! >:C
Alright folks, take a breath! Yup, it's that time. With us passing into November, we're finally prepared to take our step into the RP proper!...Which means, yes, I am going to work on getting that Discord rolling. In fact, it's the first thing on the docket next to an actual intro post, so look forward to it!
In the meantime, for those of you still cooking sheets, don't fret; just because the RP is starting doesn't mean I'm closing things out just yet. There's still time! For now...Muahahaha...