@LostButterfly92 I was going to make a mastermind, but instead I made this loser.
Code Name: Onslaught
Real Name: Jason Rickard
Gender Identity: Male
Age: 18
Physical Description: A little short for his age at 5’ 7” and a little on the underweight side. Jason has shaggy black hair and naturally blue eyes, but as part of his costume he wears red contacts to change them. The rest of his costume is simple and cheap, consisting of dark clothing, a black hoodie and a mask that conceals his lower face which has a skeleton, demonic design on it.
Personality: Jason has all of the confidence and arrogance of youth combined with the high of being enamoured by his new powers; he is cocky, aggressive and full of himself. At the same time he is a sullen individual, someone who has not had the best luck in life at this point and is filled with angry and bitter feelings. He is someone who has been given a chance to improve his station and he is going to grab it with everything he has and not let go. Jason does not mix well with authority figures.
Trigger Type: Natural Trigger
PRT Power Classification: Breaker (Striker/Mover) 4
Power Perk(s): Onslaught’s power allows him to enter a Breaker state, a form with altered physical abilities that are on the surface rather mundane. He enters this state by selecting an organic being to become his ‘focus’, targeting them, and gaining slightly enhanced speed and strength but also becoming more susceptible to injury at the same time; a light tap will bruise more easily, a scratch becomes a cut, a fracture becomes a break and so on. Furthermore, while in this state each time he hits the subject of his ‘focus’ his Breaker state advances, increasing his speed and strength even further while also making him even easier to hurt or damage.
While in this state Onslaught takes on a shimmery appearance, an effect almost like a heat haze rising off of his body making it obvious when his power is active.
Power Drawback(s): He cannot activate his power unless he has something to target and his ‘focus’ must be organic in nature, such as a person, animal or possible a Master or Tinker creation. He can be forcibly throw out of his Breaker state in two ways, either by hitting an organic being that is not his ‘focus’ or by failing to hit his ‘focus’ for an indeterminate amount of time. Although he becomes stronger and faster with every successful hit on his ‘focus’, he also becomes more fragile and easily hurt at the same rate.
History: Jason’s early life was nothing special. He considered himself a normal kid with normal problems and normal worries. His parents fought sometimes, but so did everyone else’s. His dad sometimes drank too much and yelled and them both, but that was the same in every family. There was a constant stack of unpaid bills and warnings on the kitchen counter, but whose didn’t? His life was normal.
That didn’t really change until his mom left. One day she was there and then the next she wasn’t; all of her clothes from the wardrobe her parents shared were gone, along with a suitcase. There was a note in the kitchen, stuck to the fridge door, saying that she couldn’t take things anymore and that she had gone to her sister’s place; they weren’t to contact her. The divorce papers arrived the following week by mail.
She didn’t leave anything for him.
His dad began to drink more after that. He would get angrier more often, yell more, throw things; sometimes hit him. The stack of bills got higher and the house got messier. Things didn’t seem so normal anymore, but there was nothing Jason could do, no one he could talk to about it and it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with. He kept quiet, hid his bruises, deflected whenever a teacher or a friend asked him about them; nobody asked too many questions. Nobody noticed.
Things deteriorated over time. Now his dad was drunk more often than he was sober, his angry moments were more intense and he was more likely to lash out at Jason than yell or throw anything. Jason wasn’t too happy with being treated like a punching bag, but by this point he was better at recognising the signs of an upcoming outburst and knew how to either avoid setting his dad off or knew to get out of the house for a while. He was adapting to things.
He was adapting and he was waiting. At 15 he knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d be able to fight back, wouldn’t be long before he wouldn’t have to let his dad knock him around anymore. A year or two and he’d be able to stand up for himself, he wouldn’t have to run anymore. Once he was 18 he’d be able to leave and never see his dad ever again.
The moment came when he was 17. His dad was in a particularly bad mood and Jason had slipped up, making too much noise as he was leaving or not leaving early enough. Since Jason had managed to avoid his last few outbursts his dad must have felt like he had to make up for something, because he was really laying into him this time. All Jason could do was stand there and take it, put his arms up to cover his head and take it and wait for it to be over; he could have curled up into a ball but he was too angry, he could have fought back but he was too scared. He was scared and he was angry, a weird mix of emotions; Jason hated this man more than anything, except maybe his mom, but the same man scared him more than anything else. The emotions were equally powerful, neither winning out other the other, so he was caught in the middle with no idea what to do.
In the end, anger won out. Jason grabbed something from nearby, he didn’t even know what it was just that it was close by and heavy, and swung it as hard as he could. His dad dropped like a sack of shit, bleeding from his scalp, and Jason dropped the heavy what-it-was to the floor. He felt elated, ecstatic, on top of the world to have finally fought back, done something. He felt terrified, a thick dollop of dread landing in his gut, because soon his dad would wake up and this time he might actually kill Jason. He wanted to cheer. He wanted to keep hitting the man on the floor. He wanted to run away and never look back. He felt like he was being pulled in every direction at once and he felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest and his brain burst from the pressure.
He triggered.
Jason ran away from home that night, grabbing as much money and stuff of value as he could before running out into the night before his dad could wake up. Assuming he would wake up. He ran all the way to the bus station and bought a ticket to the nearest city in cash, staying up all night and all morning as he waited for it to arrive and then drive all the way to his destination.
No ID, no job, no idea what to do. Jason found a motel that wouldn’t ask questions like who he was or what he was doing there and just sat in his room for a few days, burning through his stolen money as he waited for his dad to bust the door down or maybe for the police to show up and arrest him for murder. He really wasn’t convinced he didn’t kill his dad by accident. He ran out of money before anyone showed up to arrest him or kick his ass, making him think that maybe nobody was looking for him; nobody other than the motel manager asking for more money at least.
With no other options, Jason decided to use his new powers to rob a store for some quick cash, using the appearance of his Breaker state to intimidate the clerk and the enhanced speed to flee with the money. While not the most successful heist, merely using his power a little gave him a rush of elation and fear similar to what he felt when he was standing over his dad’s unconscious body; he was addicting. Even before the money he had stolen dried up he went out to commit another robbery, then another and another; it was reckless, but each time he used his power it was like feeding an addiction and it was best when he was doing something with some risk.
Eventually he ran afoul of the local Capes, a small-time independent hero staking out the area and arriving before Jason could grab the money and leave. He ran, using his enhanced speed to get away before the hero could do anything, though he later kicked himself for his cowardice; running, hiding, being scared of those bigger and stronger than him. He was supposed to be over that.
Jason had a run in without the same hero on another night, this time waiting around and taking his time getting the money and hoping the guy showed up. He stayed and fought rather than run this time, finding out more about his powers in the process but managing to beat the hero to a pump. He found the feeling exhilarating, standing over his beaten enemy again, but had to flee with he heard the sirens of approaching police cars.
The experience was enough to make him realise he wanted to do more than just commit petty theft in a small city. He wanted to fight, wanted to win and wanted to make people run from him for a change. He’d have to move to a bigger city, one with real Capes instead of the small-timers where he was; something like Boston or Brockton Bay would be nice, but Manchester was the closest and while it had a Cape presence it didn’t have as many big names yet. It would be a good place to make his debut.
He decided on a name, he spent some money putting together a proper, if cheap costume, and made his way to his new arena.
Skills: None
Gear: Nothing but his home-made costume and mask.
Occupation: Thief
Relationships and Family: Dad (not in contact/maybe deceased), Mom (not in contact)
VILLAIN
Code Name: Onslaught
Real Name: Jason Rickard
Gender Identity: Male
Age: 18
Physical Description: A little short for his age at 5’ 7” and a little on the underweight side. Jason has shaggy black hair and naturally blue eyes, but as part of his costume he wears red contacts to change them. The rest of his costume is simple and cheap, consisting of dark clothing, a black hoodie and a mask that conceals his lower face which has a skeleton, demonic design on it.
Personality: Jason has all of the confidence and arrogance of youth combined with the high of being enamoured by his new powers; he is cocky, aggressive and full of himself. At the same time he is a sullen individual, someone who has not had the best luck in life at this point and is filled with angry and bitter feelings. He is someone who has been given a chance to improve his station and he is going to grab it with everything he has and not let go. Jason does not mix well with authority figures.
Trigger Type: Natural Trigger
PRT Power Classification: Breaker (Striker/Mover) 4
Power Perk(s): Onslaught’s power allows him to enter a Breaker state, a form with altered physical abilities that are on the surface rather mundane. He enters this state by selecting an organic being to become his ‘focus’, targeting them, and gaining slightly enhanced speed and strength but also becoming more susceptible to injury at the same time; a light tap will bruise more easily, a scratch becomes a cut, a fracture becomes a break and so on. Furthermore, while in this state each time he hits the subject of his ‘focus’ his Breaker state advances, increasing his speed and strength even further while also making him even easier to hurt or damage.
While in this state Onslaught takes on a shimmery appearance, an effect almost like a heat haze rising off of his body making it obvious when his power is active.
Power Drawback(s): He cannot activate his power unless he has something to target and his ‘focus’ must be organic in nature, such as a person, animal or possible a Master or Tinker creation. He can be forcibly throw out of his Breaker state in two ways, either by hitting an organic being that is not his ‘focus’ or by failing to hit his ‘focus’ for an indeterminate amount of time. Although he becomes stronger and faster with every successful hit on his ‘focus’, he also becomes more fragile and easily hurt at the same rate.
History: Jason’s early life was nothing special. He considered himself a normal kid with normal problems and normal worries. His parents fought sometimes, but so did everyone else’s. His dad sometimes drank too much and yelled and them both, but that was the same in every family. There was a constant stack of unpaid bills and warnings on the kitchen counter, but whose didn’t? His life was normal.
That didn’t really change until his mom left. One day she was there and then the next she wasn’t; all of her clothes from the wardrobe her parents shared were gone, along with a suitcase. There was a note in the kitchen, stuck to the fridge door, saying that she couldn’t take things anymore and that she had gone to her sister’s place; they weren’t to contact her. The divorce papers arrived the following week by mail.
She didn’t leave anything for him.
His dad began to drink more after that. He would get angrier more often, yell more, throw things; sometimes hit him. The stack of bills got higher and the house got messier. Things didn’t seem so normal anymore, but there was nothing Jason could do, no one he could talk to about it and it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with. He kept quiet, hid his bruises, deflected whenever a teacher or a friend asked him about them; nobody asked too many questions. Nobody noticed.
Things deteriorated over time. Now his dad was drunk more often than he was sober, his angry moments were more intense and he was more likely to lash out at Jason than yell or throw anything. Jason wasn’t too happy with being treated like a punching bag, but by this point he was better at recognising the signs of an upcoming outburst and knew how to either avoid setting his dad off or knew to get out of the house for a while. He was adapting to things.
He was adapting and he was waiting. At 15 he knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d be able to fight back, wouldn’t be long before he wouldn’t have to let his dad knock him around anymore. A year or two and he’d be able to stand up for himself, he wouldn’t have to run anymore. Once he was 18 he’d be able to leave and never see his dad ever again.
The moment came when he was 17. His dad was in a particularly bad mood and Jason had slipped up, making too much noise as he was leaving or not leaving early enough. Since Jason had managed to avoid his last few outbursts his dad must have felt like he had to make up for something, because he was really laying into him this time. All Jason could do was stand there and take it, put his arms up to cover his head and take it and wait for it to be over; he could have curled up into a ball but he was too angry, he could have fought back but he was too scared. He was scared and he was angry, a weird mix of emotions; Jason hated this man more than anything, except maybe his mom, but the same man scared him more than anything else. The emotions were equally powerful, neither winning out other the other, so he was caught in the middle with no idea what to do.
In the end, anger won out. Jason grabbed something from nearby, he didn’t even know what it was just that it was close by and heavy, and swung it as hard as he could. His dad dropped like a sack of shit, bleeding from his scalp, and Jason dropped the heavy what-it-was to the floor. He felt elated, ecstatic, on top of the world to have finally fought back, done something. He felt terrified, a thick dollop of dread landing in his gut, because soon his dad would wake up and this time he might actually kill Jason. He wanted to cheer. He wanted to keep hitting the man on the floor. He wanted to run away and never look back. He felt like he was being pulled in every direction at once and he felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest and his brain burst from the pressure.
He triggered.
Jason ran away from home that night, grabbing as much money and stuff of value as he could before running out into the night before his dad could wake up. Assuming he would wake up. He ran all the way to the bus station and bought a ticket to the nearest city in cash, staying up all night and all morning as he waited for it to arrive and then drive all the way to his destination.
No ID, no job, no idea what to do. Jason found a motel that wouldn’t ask questions like who he was or what he was doing there and just sat in his room for a few days, burning through his stolen money as he waited for his dad to bust the door down or maybe for the police to show up and arrest him for murder. He really wasn’t convinced he didn’t kill his dad by accident. He ran out of money before anyone showed up to arrest him or kick his ass, making him think that maybe nobody was looking for him; nobody other than the motel manager asking for more money at least.
With no other options, Jason decided to use his new powers to rob a store for some quick cash, using the appearance of his Breaker state to intimidate the clerk and the enhanced speed to flee with the money. While not the most successful heist, merely using his power a little gave him a rush of elation and fear similar to what he felt when he was standing over his dad’s unconscious body; he was addicting. Even before the money he had stolen dried up he went out to commit another robbery, then another and another; it was reckless, but each time he used his power it was like feeding an addiction and it was best when he was doing something with some risk.
Eventually he ran afoul of the local Capes, a small-time independent hero staking out the area and arriving before Jason could grab the money and leave. He ran, using his enhanced speed to get away before the hero could do anything, though he later kicked himself for his cowardice; running, hiding, being scared of those bigger and stronger than him. He was supposed to be over that.
Jason had a run in without the same hero on another night, this time waiting around and taking his time getting the money and hoping the guy showed up. He stayed and fought rather than run this time, finding out more about his powers in the process but managing to beat the hero to a pump. He found the feeling exhilarating, standing over his beaten enemy again, but had to flee with he heard the sirens of approaching police cars.
The experience was enough to make him realise he wanted to do more than just commit petty theft in a small city. He wanted to fight, wanted to win and wanted to make people run from him for a change. He’d have to move to a bigger city, one with real Capes instead of the small-timers where he was; something like Boston or Brockton Bay would be nice, but Manchester was the closest and while it had a Cape presence it didn’t have as many big names yet. It would be a good place to make his debut.
He decided on a name, he spent some money putting together a proper, if cheap costume, and made his way to his new arena.
Skills: None
Gear: Nothing but his home-made costume and mask.
Occupation: Thief
Relationships and Family: Dad (not in contact/maybe deceased), Mom (not in contact)
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