[CHAR] The Wards: A Grimdark Teenage Superhero Story

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Hidden 3 yrs ago → 3 yrs ago Post by Mintz

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Mintz

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Mintz

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"Just my luck, getting to babysit some super-brats...It'll be interesting, at least."


Name: Atsushi Fukuda

Alias: N/A....?

Nicknames: Director, Fukuda-San (by some of his staff he's more personal with) 

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Personality: Atsushi has the kind of personality that rubs higher-ups the wrong way; where they would prefer secrecy and subtlety, he prefers being upfront and brutally honest, in a business where, truth be told, deceptions are the norm. Not to say he won't, because he's also a smart enough man to recognize some necessity in the system...But he doesn't budge when he can afford not to, and won't hesitate to handle things his way when given the chance. He fully believes all the bureaucratic bullshit is nothing more than that. Bullshit. Sadly, it's the kinda bullshit you can't just wipe off clean and good as new. Something had to change....But for now, this status quo would need to stick. 

Beyond the business aspects of things, Fukuda prefers to be as amicable as possible with those he interacts with. Not always because he actually likes or appreciates these individuals; in fact, more often than not, that certainly isn't the case. However, he finds it easier to play nice and not start shit when he can help it. This even extends to violent situations, where he'd rather turn to his words over full-blown combat...And for some reason, you can get the sense from him that it isn't because he can't hold his own. It's a courtesy. 

Overall, Fukuda-San might not be the kindest authority figure, but he knows how to extend an olive branch, and he wants to. You'd be surprised how rare that can be amongst those in power...And ultimately, while he might snark or groan, he has high hopes for The Wards Initiative. After all, he's the one that pitched it. Though he can't claim he fully anticipated being the one to head it...

Appearance: Atsushi tries to keep his look professional, even if his attitude usually isn't. He wears a sleek black suit, on which he typically keeps a PRT badge pinned on the side, and underneath that is a crisp white dress shirt, long-sleeved and perfectly ironed. His dark red tie, a bit out of shape from years of use, is a token from his days back in Japan, and he wears it anywhere he goes. His pants are a matching shade of black to his suit, and he normally wears field-ready brown boots. Perhaps in the hopes he can get out of the office work from time to time...

During colder days, he opts for a fairly puffy black coat and a pair of snow boots; wintertime gets pretty awful down in Redline, truth be told. 

Physically speaking, Fukuda appears to be a fairly unassuming Japanese man, standing at roughly 5'9 and weighing barely 140 lbs., he doesn't look the most intimidating or tough. Kind of a string bean, almost, but those who can catch details can tell that in spite of first appearances, he's well-trained and tougher than he looks. Beyond that, he has a mess of brown hair that he clearly doesn't put too much thought or effort into, and steely grey eyes that can come off as equal parts intimidating and unassuming. His skin tone's gotten a bit pale, but that's to be expected being stuck behind a desk for nearly two years. 

Biography: Atsushi Fukuda's life story...Isn't what you're getting here. What you need to know is that he's a man whose been through plenty of shit and come out on top or at least alive in order to be here. While his attitude might give you the wrong impression, he's a man whose earned a lot of respect for his work, even if most of it is widely unknown by the public, prior to him becoming the Director of Redline's PRT. And after becoming the Director, he's got a lot of big plans in mind, both for the PRT at large, Redline, and even Capes in general, if he can get his way without crashing and burning. 

Thus, The Wards Initiative. 

The quantity, not even mentioning quality, of Hero Capes has slowly been going down, while villains keep digging their way from the woodworks. Something had to change....And Fukuda offered an answer. It's common for most Capes to have their Trigger Events when they're younger, and without proper guidance or watch, they're bound to strike off on their own and eventually end up on the wrong side of the law. This Initiative could change that; take young Capes and help mold them into the upstanding figures they could become! Or at the very least, get some vigilantes and...Vaguely reasonable youthful super-crooks under wraps. 'Course, when he made the pitch, Fukuda didn't count on being the guy having to manage all these munchkins...But sometimes, ya deal with the hand you're dealt. This is one of those times.

Now, let's see if he can get these brats into fighting shape...

Powers/Skills:

[REDACTED]
Atsushi has experience in spades, both as a field combatant and an off-field director.
In spite of his build, he's well-trained in a few forms of martial arts and quite physically capable.
Fukuda seems to possess a natural mind for stratagem and foreseeing potential outcomes. No doubt some of the qualities that landed him this position.
His marksmanship is top-notch, even if he rarely has reason to put that into practice.
Fukuda-San is very skilled with reading individuals; perhaps the main reason they chose him to head this Initiative.


Other: Atsushi has a hobby of buying guns, and appreciates being able to take them apart and admire the craftsmanship before putting it back together, sometimes with his own little touches. Not a Tinker by far though, just something he does for fun.


[  IDENTITY  ]
Hope

[  REAL NAME  ]
Andrew Bennett

[  POWERS  ]
Hope Manipulation

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"He's a strange one, that's certain enough. Shows up out of the blue wanting to join the Initiative, but all we have on record is that he's some orphan from down near the shipyard. Nothing that would've indicated any gifts, or incidents to trigger said gifts. Not even gonna mention how weird that power is. But the kid seems sincere enough. More than I can say for some of the others..."

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"What a cutie! You'd be lucky to meet a guy as wholesome as little Andy, even among other Heroes. I think he'll be a great addition to The Wards! Fukuda's just being a bit paranoid. Suppose it's in the job description..."

[  IDENTITY  ]
Overclock

[  REAL NAME  ]
Sean Evens

[  POWERS  ]
Scaling Superhuman Feats

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"I can't ask for much better, honestly. While he has his attitude, and he certainly chaffs under the PRT, he's got his heart in the right place, and his ability is nothing short of impressive; speedster, muscle and brick wall, all in one? What's not to like?"

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"He's the 'rough around the edges' sort if I ever saw one. But if his old vigilante work was anything to go off of, I think it's hiding a sweet center! I just hope he can drop that guard of his down a bit among The Wards."

[  IDENTITY  ]
Gray Man

[  REAL NAME  ]
Wilbur Levin

[  POWERS  ]
Unnatural Believability

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"Ugh...I know we offered some kids with shaky track records a chance to set things straight, but this guy? A Master who compulsively tells believable lies? Christ...Well, beyond his grating personality and seeming desire for attention, at the very least, I'd be remiss to deny the fact of how useful someone like him could be in the long run. I just hope we make it that long to appreciate it..."

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"Woof. I'm not one to be too negative, but Will here looks to be a handful. I mean, he got to visit for one day. One day. And now we have 'The Coffee Incident'! Well...I'm sure he has his reasons, and maybe being among some peers will do him good! I hope..."

[  IDENTITY  ]
Workshop

[  REAL NAME  ]
Beverly Hillshire

[  POWERS  ]
Randomly-Generated Tinkertech

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"Sheesh...I mean, yay, Tinker, but really? When I heard the rumors of 'The Shipyard Tinker', I...Expected more. Instead, we get a girl whose a veritable grab bag of soon-to-be war crimes or party favors; pick your poison. Oh well, at least she's polite."

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"What. A. Sweetheart! It's great to have someone around who gets it, you know? Er, not to say the lovely folks who test all the Tinkertech don't get it...Ehehe...Well, what I'm saying is, it's nice to not be the only one around here! It helps that she's sweeter than a shortcake, too! Speaking of, I think something she left here has been making shortcakes ad nauseum with no way to stop it..."

[  IDENTITY  ]
Scraprig

[  REAL NAME  ]
Jane Rosner

[  POWERS  ]
Human-Compatible/Heavy-Machinery Tinkertech

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"We're not positive where this young lady's from, exactly, and when the PRT can't figure something out, it turns some heads. Needless to say, similarly to Hope, Scraprig's a wild card; one we'll be keeping a close eye on. She also comes off as a touch unhinged. Eh, that's Tinkers for you though. Just hope she can hold herself together when they have to meet the others....Is that insensitive given the arm?"

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"Aww, poor girl looks like she thinks something's gonna come at her any minute...Wish I could do something. Hopefully the other Wards can help her out of it, hate seeing someone like that, you know?...

On an entirely unrelated note, from Tinker to Tinker, I'm very impressed with her handiwork. Eh? Get it? Heh....I-I'm done for now."

[  IDENTITY  ]
Schrödinger

[  REAL NAME  ]
Edwin Charles

[  POWERS  ]
Preservative Teleportation

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"Now I'm not sure how useful Eddy here'll be on the field...But the point is, he has to be on it. Something's gotta change with this kid so that he doesn't just keep getting others injured; or worse. This path's gonna be pretty thorny for all parties involved...But it just might work. If he can get a grip on himself, he might actually make a halfway decent Ward."

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"Oh goodness...While I hope he can come into his own and learn more about his ability among The Wards, I'm a bit concerned how much danger he could place the others in...Well, I trust Fukuda's judgement, and I think we can both agree that seeing this young man blossom would be a sight to see!"

[  IDENTITY  ]
V

[  REAL NAME  ]
Carmen Foster

[  POWERS  ]
Object Replication [Blaster 6/Shaker 6 (Tinker)]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"Honestly, just ignoring the little lady herself for a second...Her Power was hard as shit to classify, ugh. Eventually everyone just threw their hands up and decided on this. It's....Close enough. The girl in question, though? No complaints. She's pretty cheery (which is welcome given most the applicants) and smart to boot. She's a bit awkward, but she definitely can't be any worse than a few of the others. Scared shitless of that mother though...."

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"She's great! That power of hers is something else, and I'm not just saying that because she cost a few of our interns a week of sleep trying to figure it out! It's creative as all get-out, and really applicable if she puts her mind to it, which I'm certain she can! She's the youngest of the bunch, but I think I speak for most of us when I say we've got high hopes for her."

[  IDENTITY  ]
Gress

[  REAL NAME  ]
Aaliyah Zaire

[  POWERS  ]
Connecting Portals [Mover 6 (Blaster)]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"I'll be damned; we got our own Gatecrasher. Alright, I might be overselling her a bit, but this kinda ability is a 1 in 100 lottery ticket as far as teams go. Even if she might not be on the same level as the old 'Crasher, transport of any sort is incredibly useful, and exceptionally powerful in almost any scenario. As for Aaliyah? Well, she's polite enough, if a bit bull-headed (though perhaps not as bull-headed as another Mover we have around...). Nothing we can't manage. Seems like the pleasant sort, and she has a Power most would beg for, so she's great in my books. Real talk, though? The hell is a Gress?"

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"First of all, I really need to thank her for the costume she put out! Definitely far from my comfort zone, but that just made it more interesting! Had to get some help from...Tech Wizard, but it's all fine and good. Oh, wait, gotta talk about her beyond the whole suit thing....Well, she's great! We've got plenty of nice people, but she seems to go the extra mile, and, well...Let's just say I can relate to her wanting things to be just right. I think she'll fit right in! Oh, and I understood the meaning behind your Cape name, unlike a certain someone...Very clever!"

[  IDENTITY  ]
Memento

[  REAL NAME  ]
Morgan Reine

[  POWERS  ]
Duplicating Assimilator [Master 2/Stranger 2/Striker/Changer (Brute, Mover) 5+]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"I'll admit, even some of the best Cape teams don't have the luxury of someone who can fix your bones or get you an arm back, and Memento fills that role. That alone makes her invaluable. Now, the methods behind it, and frankly her Power in general, are a bit...Concerning, but part of this program is keeping an eye on potential trouble just as much as it is trying to make them the next generation of Heroes. Beyond that though, she's a great addition with the possibilities she opens up Power-wise. Oh, and the girl herself is fine enough. Maybe a bit of a developing martyr complex there...But, as far as The Wards go, perfectly manageable. Thank God."

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"I have to admit, when me and Fukuda were showing her around with the tour, she came off as a bit icy...At first, at least. Looks like she's quick to guard, but just as quick to drop it! She's a sweet girl, but I'm worried about her being too hard on herself...Something to work on. And I happen to agree with Fukuda, her ability is something else! I think if we got Cryogenesis to lend us one of his Cryo-Lab set-ups, we might help her contain the duplicates in a more preferable way. How exciting~!"

[  IDENTITY  ]
Crosspoint

[  REAL NAME  ]
Caiden Mckay

[  POWERS  ]
Kinetic Blades [Blaster 6/Shaker]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"Marking down as the third ne'er-do-well kid we nabbed up for this program, Caiden's got his own problems, but at least he doesn't come with Will's power issues, or Jane's complete lack of social graces. Anger problems are the main thing I'd point out, but luckily, those are manageable...If he's willing. I've got some hope for him. Helps that he's the only proper Blaster candidate we got..."

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"I have to agree with Fukuda on the anger point, especially given how he got caught up in all this...Still, if he's able to put that behind him and make an honest effort, I'm certain he'll make a great Ward! Just hoping he doesn't butt heads with anyone..."

[  IDENTITY  ]
Presidio

[  REAL NAME  ]
Kari Simmons

[  POWERS  ]
Precision Forcefields [Shaker 5/Thinker 0]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"Apparently a recent addition to The Guardians, got carted off here to help oversee The Wards Initiative along with the rest of our 'Redline Guardians'. Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire...Well anyhow, her Power might not rank high statistically, but overall it's pretty impressive. Not Guardian by any stretch, but still welcome to have around. And the woman behind the ability seems competent enough, though with a confidence I wouldn't expect from such a newcomer..."

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"I haven't personally met Kari yet, but she sounds lovely! I'm hoping she can serve as a good example to The Wards alongside the rest of the Redline Guardians...Except maybe Trump Card. Not a fan, truth be told. Er, anyhoo, yeah! I'm positive Presidio can make a difference in the city, and with any luck, allow us a bit more freedom with training the newcomers!"

[  IDENTITY  ]
Risen

[  REAL NAME  ]
Jason West

[  POWERS  ]
Regenerative Strengthening [Brute 8 (Changer)]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"Risen's a damn powerhouse, truth be told; rumor has it people have seen the guy regenerate from barely a third of his body staying intact, and while it isn't instant, it's far from slow either. He's probably getting pretty damn close to being on-par with Amazon, which is a feat in and of itself. As for Jason himself? Extreme Martyr Complex, probably stemming from his Power. Beyond that? Pretty nice guy. Had smoothies with him once."

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"His Power is a bit too...Visceral for me, but as of late he's rarely even been injured. Fukuda saying he isn't far off from Amazon herself isn't so far-fetched...But as for the man behind the mask (metaphor, he doesn't actually wear a mask though), Jason's a sweet guy, and you can tell he really cares for other people, and this city. Perhaps to a detrimental extent, but if anyone were to put their life on the line, I suppose it's best to be the one who'll still be standing afterwards."

[  IDENTITY  ]
Trump Card

[  REAL NAME  ]
Richter Vandenhoff

[  POWERS  ]
Inversed Power Duplication [Trump 5]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"I'll be blunt; Richter's an ass. A charming ass, but an ass. In front of a camera, he's all smooth moves and suave vibes, but put him outside that lens and I daresay he's as much a degenerate as some of the people we try to put behind bars, the only difference being he works for us. Obnoxious to a fault, arrogant beyond compare (especially for his contrived as shit Power), and having a certain...Attitude towards the fairer sex, it's no wonder they tossed his sorry ass down here. Maybe they're hoping Redline'll whip him in shape. If any place could...."

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"I mirror the Director's sentiments, and for my own minor addition...I hope to never meet him again. Eugh. It's no small miracle he hasn't had his membership stripped away...I wouldn't be surprised if someone in the PRT or otherwise has been pulling strings for him."

[  IDENTITY  ]
Blaster

[  REAL NAME  ]
Mitchell McConway

[  POWERS  ]
Energy-Based Firearms [Tinker 6 (Blaster, Shaker)]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"I've gotta say, for all the Tinkers I've met in my life (even looking at you, Rachel), Mitch has got his shit put together. Not only one of the youngest Guardians I've met (guy's barely 20), but he's polite, has a bit of 'friendly neighborhood' kinda charisma to him, and enough cheek to make a splash with the youth. Plus, I mean, half his weapons look like they could've come from XCOM, and that has to count for something."

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"Mitchell is great! Brings some of the youthful energy that The Guardians have been lacking a bit nowadays, so he's a pleasant change of pace for Redline as well. And, well, this might be some Power bias here, but he certainly knows what he's doing with those guns, even though he's only been active for the better half of this year. A rising star if I ever saw one!"

[  IDENTITY  ]
Fenris

[  REAL NAME  ]
Valerie Jakobs

[  POWERS  ]
Monster-Wolf Transformation [Changer 4/Brute 6]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"Valerie, or Val as she prefers, is an...Interesting case. Not too long ago, she actually went by the villain name of Fang, with her partner Claw; she turns into a giant fucking wolf Monster, and he had claws that possessed some weird Breaker bullshit effect, could cut through space or some such. Point is, after the incident with the Seven in New York left her as a solo act, she came crawling to the PRT. I'd almost feel bad if it weren't for the kinda shit she pulled before...Regardless, she's trying to turn a new leaf. Clearly hard for her, but she's making an effort, and her ability isn't anything to scoff at. A welcome addition to the Redline Guardians' motley crew."

[  FASHIONISTA COMMENTS  ]
"Fukuda might be cold, but I can honestly feel for her. The New York attack from The Seven was an awful tragedy, and that she lost her love during it fighting those Monsters makes the both of them heroes in my book. She has some reparations to make, but there's an honest effort there. I'm really hoping for the best for her..."

[  IDENTITY  ]
Illusory Gentleman

[  REAL NAME  ]
UNKNOWN

[  POWERS  ]
Illusion [Stranger 6; potential unknown Master Hybrid abilities]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"He's a new kid on the block, and I hate him already. You'd be surprised just how often 'fake it 'till you make it' is applicable to superpowered crime. Apparently, according to some eyewitness accounts from our field ops (assuming this smug bastard's actually ever been on the field, and it hasn't been more elaborate illusionary hoax crap), he's capable of creating illusions up to a few blocks away from his position, and they can be shocking in-depth; he can create visual, auditory, and even sensory illusion work, not to mention the fact that on occasion, it seems like his illusions hold up to physical inspection as well. For all we fucking know, he's actually just making matter out of thin air instead of faking our minds. Hate being so out of the loop..."

[  PROCEDURES/KNOWLEDGE  ]
The individual known as Illusory Gentleman is a young Caucasian male of roughly 16-18 years of age, with shoulder-length platinum-blonde hair, assuming there is no illusions at work here as well. He has been cited as coming off as arrogant, and has a desire to flaunt his ability. He is also known to 'play up' his crimes with illusion work, making things more grandiose than they really are. Judging from this and his current record, he seems to appreciate playing the villain more than being one. He has been known to occasionally assist in the capture of other criminal elements, though this is not cause to trust him. Safely assume at all times that Gentleman is always making moves in his own interest.

As is the case with all 5+ Strangers, it is highly recommended to maintain constant communication between team members, and implement passwords to identify one another to ensure no foul play is afoot. Additionally, due to his unknown Master-potential at play, it is recommended that, if line-of-sight is established, to take down with extreme, though non-lethal, prejudice before more complications arise. Otherwise, make cautious moves and try to identify more factors to his Powers.

Current knowledge implies he is not working for any of the known organizations or gangs running amok in Redline. If information that contradicts this is discovered, you are to alert a superior at once.

[  IDENTITY  ]
Stone

[  REAL NAME  ]
UNKNOWN

[  POWERS  ]
Mineral-Based Armor [Brute 5+/Changer 2 (presumed Blaster/Shaker rating of minimum 5 until rumor of Terrakinesis is disproven)]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"Stone's been a pain in the PRT's side ever since he started The Mutants. God only knows what his problem is with us...I mean, I could think of a few, but that was rhetorical. Point is, he makes it his goal to make us look like a bunch of laughing, joking numbnuts. And I'm loathe to admit it...But as of late, he's been managing pretty well. His power might not sound like much, but you'll change that tune when you see the guy terraform a street to make the equivalent of a stone mecha. He's managed to go toe-to-toe with the Redline Guardians on a few occasions...Hell, truth be told, The Elementals had an easier time contending with him. But regardless, he might as well be priority Number One on our list of shitheels to get into custody. Needless to say, he hasn't made that easy."

[  PROCEDURES/KNOWLEDGE  ]
The individual known as Stone has not been identified fully, but in one altercation where only his exposed skin and head were encased in rock at the beginning, it gave us a picture as to the kind of man he is. Above-average build, roughly standing 6'2 and likely weighing nearly 200 lbs. All muscle. A distinct build, that of a bodybuilder; a very dedicated one. His personality is one of forwardness. He does not dance around problems or play verbal spars. He will tell you what he thinks, and afterwards, he'll likely try to kill you. There is something to be said about a man of few words...

In the case of an attack, it is to be presumed standard munitions will not pierce his armor, so lethal munitions and truck emplacements are authorized. Property damage is to be expected from a Brute of his level, and especially so given the nature of his ability; ideally, lead any combat with him to an open area, with as little metal or stone in the area as possible. A tall order for this city, but it is requested nonetheless. It is recommended those who do not possess a Brute rating equal or higher than his (which can fluctuate depending on the mass accrued for his armor) do not engage in direct combat. He will be large, dangerous, and faster than you expect. 

He is the leader of a quickly spreading gang known as The Mutants, and he rules alongside a small contingent of other Powered individuals, some of which we possess no data of at this moment in time. It is safe to assume any fight with him could involve any number of henchmen or lieutenants. Be advised.

[  IDENTITY  ]
Slo-Mo

[  REAL NAME  ]
UNKNOWN

[  POWERS  ]
Temporal Siphoning [Striker 6/Mover 2+ (Brute)]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"One of the few members of The Mutants we have a bead on currently, Slo-Mo might be some gutter trash...But he's gutter trash with a damn annoying ability. If he makes contact with you, you start slowing down; all of you. How fast your thoughts move, your bodily processes, and of course, your physical speed. That alone is enough, but he also converts your lost speed into his own. In other words, his power can cripple his opposition and turn him into a speeding bullet; not fun to manage. And the process only ends when he wants it to, if he gets knocked out, or the person gets so slowed down that their body just sorta...Quits. They don't die, but it isn't a fun nap to wake up from."

[  PROCEDURES/KNOWLEDGE  ]
The one known as Slo-Mo is a 21-year old young man of mixed descent, likely Japanese-American. He has matted black hair slick with grease, and a generally unfit appearance. He is known for being just as blunt as his boss, though far more talkative, vile, and rude. He seems to take particular pride in harassing and taunting victims of his abilities before he takes them down.

As with any Striker, though especially for one of his talents, you are expected to create distance between you and the target, and find indirect ways to confront them. Keep Brutes and physically-based Movers at a distance, since his Power will turn their speed against them. In our confrontations on file, he has been noted to use his power on innocents or henchmen prior to conflicts to gain increased mobility; it can be expected that in any engagement of Slo-Mo, he is roughly a Mover 3 at bare minimum.

As he grows faster, it seems as a method to protect him from the newfound speed, his ability grants him greatly increased resistances while he's in motion, granting him a Sub-Classification of Brute. However, when not in motion, he is just as vulnerable as any individual of his age and build would be, regardless of the amount of speed he is siphoning.

Slo-Mo seems to be a fairly long-stayed member of The Mutants, though he seems to have gained little respect for his actions or abilities. It seems possible that Stone distances himself from the young man due to his vulgar behavior, or perhaps a fear of his ability. Regardless, it is rare to encounter the two together, and he appears to operate solo amongst the Parahumans of The Mutants. This could likely be changed if Stone deemed it necessary. As such, Slo-Mo is a high-priority target before any large moves are to be made on Stone himself.

[  IDENTITY  ]
Hide & Seek

[  REAL NAME  ]
Tara & Terrance (unknown if these are their real first names; last names still unknown)

[  POWERS  ]
Concealment &  Perfect Senses[Stranger 8 & Thinker 5/Brute 2]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"These two are a strange pair. We think they're siblings, maybe even twins. One's able to make something as large as a small room completely imperceivable even to scanners and the like, and the other has superior hearing, sight, smell...You name it, he's doing it better than you, not to mention a small dose of Brute-like strength and durability. When they work together, that's how you get Hide & Seek; a game where you never find them, they always find you, and you're getting your ass beat by an unseen super soldier. We've been lucky so far that they seem to have no interest in other parties, but if that changes..."

[  PROCEDURES/KNOWLEDGE  ]
Tara and Terrance, otherwise known as Hide and Seek respectively possess a relationship not unlike other siblings; they seem to bicker and be at odds with each other more often than not, but they seamlessly work together under pressure, and have prove to be very competent in spite of their youth, given that Tara is likely no older than 14, with Terrance likely only being a year or so ahead. 

In terms of power, as mentioned by the Director, they are particularly troublesome. Hide is able to create pockets of her ability, roughly to the size of a small room. Inside these pockets, no visual, auditory, olfactory, and even extrasensory effects can reach the objects and entities within, making them the perfect hiding places. While she can only have one of these pockets up at a time, she can maintain it for an extended period, and also place the pocket on an object or person(s), allowing it to travel with them. She causes tracking to become...Complicated. 

Pairing this with Seek, you get a very problematic scenario. He possesses superhuman levels of sensory capabilities, which effectively also grants him near perfect reaction times and a vague form of combative precognizance, because he can read the opposition to an extraordinary degree, and effectively cannot be surprised by those without notable Stranger capabilities, like his counterpart Hide. His keen eyesight also allows him to utilize his lightly increased strength to full capacity, targeting weak points and exposing their defenses, making him a shockingly skilled hand-to-hand combatant. 

Standard procedure for Strangers and Thinkers should be carried out in the event Hide & Seek are encountered. If the two can be separated, or Hide's ability can be weakened or nullified, that will offer the best chance. As of late, they have been keeping low on the radar and have still not been observed interacting with the other powers in Redline, such as Knight Aspirant and The Mutants. If evidence to the contrary is discovered, you are to alert the Director as soon as capable.

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"My Name is Hope."

Name: Andrew Bennett

Alias: Hope.

Nicknames: Hope.

Age: 14

Gender: Male

Personality: Well-read, but lacking formal education. Knowledgeable of many things, but not social niceties. And of course, with a predilection for gluttony, making sure that every bit of food is eaten and every edible drink is drunk. This gluttony extends to knowledge as well; he wants to know more and more and more, reading every book and label and manual he can unless it's in a language he does not understand.

Surprisingly, he lacks obvious evidence of mental scars, something he is quick to reassure his teammates hides evidence of deeper trauma. After all, he would state, he was born poor and underprivileged and he had Powers. Of course, he Triggered like the rest of them!

Appearance: For his civilian appearance, Andrew regularly uses his stipend from The Wards to buy the trendiest civilian clothing possible, with a preference for blue and white shirts and jackets. He also reveals his natural hair color, which is brown. 

As a Cape, Andrew uses his powers to turn his hair silver, because he thought it was cool. He also prefers the costume shown in his picture, because he likes it.

Biography: Andrew was deposited in an orphanage close to a Public Library. It was an orphanage of love, of warm food and light and a constantly burning fire in the winter. It was beautiful and musical and it was all he could want. Not just that, but the Public Library was close enough that even at a young age, he can cross over with minimal adult supervision and lose himself in the books for hours. He was intelligent, precocious, and it was clear that someone was going to adopt him after a while. However, he always insisted to his prospective parents that they pick another kid or set of kids first; they needed it more than he did.

This continued until he was past the normal age for adoption, but the boy had already resolved to work at the orphanage he lived in to take care of other children. Then one day, a person who came to adopt one of his friends dropped a suitcase after leaving in a hurry, and Andrew resolved to return it once the person came back... Only to find some of the younger kids have picked the locks, searching for candy.

After scolding the children, Andrew glanced through the suitcase's contents and found papers and a strange vial inside; some of the former in English. Reading quickly through them, he grasped enough to know that the vial was an illegal compound intended to be tested on the kid who was going to be 'adopted' by that man. More importantly, it was a vial that was likely to turn a person into a monster or give them a strong Power; whichever was more likely.

Rage filled the boy. As the 'adopter's' car returned to the parking lot, Andrew opened the vial and drank its contents without hesitation. If the man wanted to turn his friend into a test subject under the guise of adoption, he had another thing coming!

The man burst into his room as he doubled over in pain. Then blue light filled the area, and Andrew faced the fraud who was going to prey on his friend and prepared for a confrontation.

No one knew what happened after that, but some days later, Andrew arrived at the nearest PRT office, saying that he had heard about the budding 'Wards' initiative and that he had powers and wanted to join...

Powers/Skills:

Andrew is reasonably well-read and knowledgable, with a special focus on history and fantasy literature. He is also being taught how to fight with swords, guns, and strangely, axes; this training has made him athletic.

Hope Manipulation (Trump/Shaker/Master 8) - Andrew/Hope draws from his own Hope and the ambient hope of everyone within 50 meters of him in order to create a number of effects that cover every other Class of Power, including energy blasts, force-fields, energy constructs, flight, cellular regeneration, and material alteration.

The Drawback of this? This is Worm we're talking about; the world is crapsack and his teammates have strong traumas and the mental issues those cause, meaning that they might not be interested in hoping for a better future. Also, prolonged use (1 to 2 hours) depletes his hope and the hope of others, eventually sapping their will to live and rendering them catatonic and zombie-like if they don't commit suicide.

Lack of hope and excessive use of his powers can shorten this period further.

Sub Powers: These classifications assume an average level of hope in the affected area.

Energy Blasts (Blaster 6): Blue energy blasts of manually variable power capable of knocking a person off their feet and inflicting mild burns or blasting through unprotected flesh and punching straight through steel. These can be thrown as simple blasts or sustained beams.
Energy Shields (Shaker 6): Semi-transparent energy shields capable of halting a speeding car in its tracks with only moderate strain. Though, something as heavy and solid as a speeding armored truck will likely shatter them. Shields can be formed up to 2 meters away from himself, large enough to englobe him and anyone close enough to fit inside as well. The shields can be shaped somewhat but are always spheroid or semi-spheroid.
Energy Constructs (Master 2-?): Energy that can be shaped into tools, weapons, or small structures like miniature bridges that are as durable as titanium alloy unless specified otherwise. Can be as small as a screw or as large as a truck. However, the major caveat is that he must actually know how to physically build what he summons. For every object, he must have the theoretical blueprints for dedicated to memory. Technically, he could make anything, but advanced electronics and Tinkertech are far outside his reach. The more complicated the object, the more energy and concentration are required to create it. The most complicated thing he has managed to make with it so far is a wheelbarrow, but this power will only grow in utility and menace with time and study.
Flight (Mover 4/Breaker 1): Andrew can fly up to the speed of a small civilian helicopter, and his body is protected from the air resistance and friction of moving by his own power.
Cellular Regeneration (Brute/Striker 5): Andrew can heal his own injuries, even loss of limbs, and heal the same in others as well. He can also purge poisons and diseases and even rewrite another person's genetic disorders out of their DNA. However, he needs to touch the person being healed, concentrate his attention on them, and it costs a lot of energy.
Material Alteration (Striker/Changer/Stranger 2): Andrew can change the color, shape, and appearance of his clothing and any items he directly touches, but he cannot increase their durability; this means that he needs normal armor to protect his body, which The Wards provide. The changes are permanent but can only target inorganic or dead material (like his hair or clothing fibers). He can target something as small as a singular hair. He can alter an object's size to match that of something with equal weight. Effectively, mass is generally conserved.
Hope Sensing (Thinker 1): This allows him to sense the ambient emotion of hope in living creatures within 50 meters of him. This sense is incredibly broad, so he is unable to determine the number of people in the range or identify specific people. Within 5 meters of himself, however, he can apply greater focus to uncover hidden people, able to foil some Strangers or find trapped victims under rubble and the like.

Other: My favorite superpower is Actual Magic, which does not exist in Worm. Failing that, my own Hope Manipulation.

youtube.com/watch?v=lBbcNR4bSBI

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Hidden 3 yrs ago → 3 yrs ago Post by Lewascan2

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Lewascan2 "You've yee'd y'er last haw."

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"You've yee'd y'er last haw."

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"So, villains... are you about done with this little tantrum of yours yet?"


Name: Sean Evens

Alias: Overclock

Nicknames: NA.

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Personality:
A nod here. A grin there. A nice word for a citizen and a cat saved from a tree, because why not? He's got time, more than enough. Overclock is the quintessential speedster brute, a mighty force of justice. His record against criminal elements is nigh-flawless, and he is the sort to perform hero work outside scheduled patrols... and even outside costume. After all, once he's ramped up enough, even without a mask, cameras are no threat to his secret identity, which can result in a number of victims suddenly finding themselves saved, the villain beaten, and a note from their "friendly Neighborhood Overclock" left behind. Despite all this, he's not typically the sort to actively ham things up or play along as well with the PR machine as many of his peers. For a simple reason.

He is stubborn and prideful, though he typically hides it well. Sean has an... obsession perhaps with controlling his own path in life, in dictating his own destiny and image (his costume, among other things). He was not exactly thrilled to join the Wards, and the fact that he barely tolerates the red tape and PR is fairly clear to any that know him well... which is surprisingly few. Despite his forwardness on the job, behind closed doors, he is a comparatively restrained person. He sees heroing at the behest of a government agency as inherently flawed. In fact, he outright finds superhero costumes and masks to be ridiculous, and if his contract didn't have some comprehensive NDAs involved, he'd be perfectly happy to be hero without a secret identity at all. On the inverse scale, he doesn't think villains have the right to hide behind masks and thinks the precedent set by letting them is one of the major factors making the world worse by encouraging the idea of lessened to nonexistent consequences... as long as you might show up for the big threats like the S7 or Heralds.

If he were an independent hero, he'd be much happier. Instead, with the choice taken out of his hands, he barely refrains from acting spitefully towards his comrades and superiors. To that effect, even as he refuses to put on a stage persona for the masses, he feels he's doing everyone a favor just being his regular self on the job. Really, they should be thankful, he thinks, that he only takes out his frustrations on "acceptable targets".

And yet... despite all of that, there's a part of him, the part of him that he currently lets lead the charge, that believes in a better world, in better heroes, that things can be salvaged, the villains beaten, the Heralds destroyed, and that lives can be saved in all the ways that matter. And he worries for his younger peers, for how they might be suckered into the government's games as effectively child soldiers. A large part of him feels responsible for them, and that part also wants the Wards to be what the naive among them believe it is. And for that reason, he sees it as his duty to coopt the image and direction of the Wards before it can be twisted by hard men making hard choices. And well, if that lets him get back at those that forcibly recruited him in a number of petty ways? Why, how could he refuse?

Independent of his issues with "the System" and internal conflicts, however, Sean has a powerful sense of justice... if a bit black and white. To him, "evil" acts aren't excusable. There is only doing the right thing or doing the wrong thing with little -if any- in between; it is always a choice that anyone can make. For that reason, he has very little true leniency to offer for those that overstep. He's a true believer at heart in the American Dream, of the right to be free and choose your own destiny. Those that dare take that free will and liberty away from others (most Masters, slavers, rapists and murderers in general -though not necessarily killers) will find that he is fresh out of mercy. He believes that saving people is more than saving their bodies in the present but eliminating any threat that could harm them in the future; and it is equally vital to save the peoples' hearts and minds.

Appearance: 
Civilian: A 5'10", 160 lb. dark-brown-haired, blue-eyed, athletic, caucasian and clean-shaven young man with the lean build of a martial artist. Prefers blue jeans and wide variety of cotton shirts or hoodies. Typically prefers solid colors or stripes and avoids stuff with brand names plastered all over it. He lives in Redline, Maine, which is -to say the least- cold, so he also favors warm jackets, preferably with hoods for when the chill is especially biting.

Cape: Despite despising spandex with a fiery passion, he's opted for a costume that might as well be named "MURICA HARDER" just to spite the PRT. It may not yet be obvious exactly how such a PR friendly-seeming outfit is going to channel such ends, but the malicious compliance promises to be glorious. The outfit is a thick, durable full-bodysuit affair, aside from the head, which has a wide blue domino mask, leaving his eyes and lower face open.
The dominant color is a dark blue with a triangular expanse of dark red covering the majority of the chest down to the bottom of the sternum along with rounding out to cover the shoulders and encompass everything above the nape of the neck. Emblazoned upon the front in the center of the red mass is a white and blue emblem of a clock without hands, surrounded by a ring of white five-pointed stars, one for each hour. A single narrow "v"-shaped, downward pointing white stripe ascends up the outside of both thighs with a larger, thicker one on his back, the point ending at the small of his back. The boots and gloves are dark red with multiple "v"-shaped white stripes ascending up the front lengths of them, the "points" of the v's pointing towards the ends of the appendages and only descending far enough to barely touch both his ankles and wrists. There is a white utility belt with dark red accents secured firmly to the waist by built in belt straps; though it can naturally be unbuckled and removed separate from the rest of the costume. All the colors of this costume are done blatantly in the exact same color coding as the American Flag.

Biography:
If Sean were to call his early and mid life anything, it was... "average". Not that he was actually disappointed with that state of affairs. He had loving parents, a good home, good schooling, a number of healthy hobbies he went through over the years, including swimming, gymnastics, soccer and finally, martial arts. To say the least, on an objective level, compared to many, he lived a good, perhaps above average life, and he was content with that, aspiring to no particular heights and wanting little more than he had. He had enough of a good support system to avoid being forced into any particular direction, and he loved it. What he loved and appreciated the most was the freedom to choose his own life, to choose his own lifestyle, to be able to plan around taking up a job that wouldn't just be a grind for money but instead something he would genuinely enjoy doing his whole life. He was 15 and had an actual plan for his life, one he intended to carry out.

And then some things happened, many of them unfortunate, some of them not. At the end of it all, unfortunately, his plans were in shambles. He had powers and a will to use them... and an even greater desire to avoid using them on anyone else's orders. So, he tried out the whole vigilante thing for the next two years, and turns out, he was pretty good at it. With his lessons from martial arts, he was more aware than many his age what the consequences of excessive force would be, so he carefully toed the line, stayed within the bounds of self defense and defense of others, and ensured that every citizen's arrest was properly conducted, the victim a witness and the baddie bound to be put away. The people and even law enforcement seemed to like him, liked the "friendly neighborhood hero" persona he had, a relatable guy who nonetheless was here to help. Between that and his martial arts refining and reinforcing his discipline, he kept things restrained. In fact, despite doing so begrudgingly at first, he even went to therapy and recovered from his Trigger Event... mostly anyway, becoming as well-adjusted and rational as any could likely ever expect him to be.

He did everything right, picked up the pieces of his life and was in the process of fitting them back together... only for the government to stick their nose into things. There were some threats of using the law against him for his vigilante work, but he easily called their bluff, knowing he had followed the letter of the law... and admittedly laughed in their face. Unfortunately, they thought to go around him entirely and manipulate his options through his guardians. And so, Sean finds himself in the here and now with a barely restrained chip on his shoulder and an axe to grind with the system... not that he's foolish enough to be overt about it. Oh no, nono. If he's going to have his way and get retaliation, he's going to have to play the long game... so it's sure nice to be so good at putting on a show. They won't know what hit them.

Powers/Skills:
Athleticism: Is a highly athletic and agile individual, and his cardio is sufficient for very extended periods of running (to say the least).
Great Pain Tolerance/Willpower: He's learned to handle pain and aching muscles taking martial arts, and gaining powers that rely on a stronger base has only pushed him to push himself to the edge time and again. Working up the scale, in being a hero, taking actual injuries multiple times has numbed him somewhat. As long as he isn't entirely incapacitated, it's likely that he'll try to keep fighting.
Martial Arts: Tae-Kwon Do: Even before becoming a cape, he took martial arts and reached a level where he could actually put what he knew into practice beyond refereed spars. His style favors a wide variety of kicks, but he's been known to "ad lib" things or forgo form entirely to be more unpredictable. This gives him a certain awareness of where it's safe to strike the human body to incapacitate foes relatively harmlessly... or where he needs to aim to do the most damage.
Service with a Smile: Having worked in the fast-food industry, Sean is quite practiced at concealing his true feelings from others.
Swimming: Can swim pretty well. Retained the skills easily, even if he hasn't taken lessons in years.
Escalation: Overclock (Mover/Brute/Breaker 2-10+): A power that multiplies Overclock's base speed, strength and durability to ramp up over time. This effect is not gradual but instead occurs in periodic bursts with a longer waiting time for each successive burst. The boost and periods between boosts occur in exponential increments, starting with 2, then 4, then 16, then 256 and so on. The waiting times are slightly lower initially, allowing him to activate the first boost instantly, effectively meaning he must wait 2 seconds to activate x4, then 4 seconds to activate x16, then 16 seconds for x256 and so on... a fairly long time in the initial moments of a fight. This is rather mitigated by the fact that he doesn't actually need a fight to ramp up and can, in fact, begin doing so ahead of time if he's anticipating one.

Despite the ludicrous speeds he can move at, he doesn't seem to cause any undue collateral damage from the force of his passing. However, this state of affairs lasts only as long as he chooses to allow it. At any point, he can seemingly at least partially selectively decide which aspects of physics his boosted physicality will interact with, allowing the full force of the collateral effects of his actions to occur. This Breaker effect also allows him to manually utilize any level of lesser force than his current maximum upon targets, letting him avoid causing severe to lethal injury or damage in general even while going at full throttle.

As far as the PRT has been able to determine, he effectively has no upper limit and has been able to continue ramping up over the course of an entire day, only loosing his charge once he fell asleep. His power is active, requiring he pay enough attention to manually activate each successive boost. In general, it is expected that most conflict with him will occur while he has boosted 4 times. Anything longer requires that a battle have been ongoing for a full 4 minutes at minimum.
Base - 15 mph (22 fps)
(Instant) x2 - 30 mph (44 fps)
(2 seconds) x4 - 60 mph (88 fps) (barely too slow to run on water)
(6 seconds) x16 - 240 mph (356 fps) (can run on water)
(24 seconds) x256 - 3,840 mph (1 mps) (5,632 fps) (Mach 5)
(280 seconds/ 4 minutes, 40 seconds) x65,536 - 983,040 mph (186 mps) (1,441,792 fps) (Mach 1,281) (3.6x lightning speed)
(65,816 seconds/ 18 hours, 16 minutes, 56 seconds) x4,294,967,296 - 64,424,509,440 mph (12,201,611 mps) (6,299,300,000 fps) (96x lightspeed) (Mach 57,250,000)
(136 years, 71 days, 0 hours, 44 minutes, 55 seconds) The odds of him ever reaching Stage 7 are so low with an exponential timer, that it's not even worth calculating any further than this unless that absurdity comes to pass by some genuine miracle.

Overhead Press - (Base: 200)(V1: 400)(V2: 800)(V3: 3,200)(V4: 51,200 (25.6t))(V5: 13,107,200 (6553.6t))(V6: 858,993,459,200 (429,496,730t))
Deadlift - (Base: 360)(V1: 720)(V2: 1,440)(V3: 5,760)(V4: 92,160 (46.08t))(V5: 23,592,960 (11,796.48t))(V6: 1,546,188,226,560 (773,094,113t)
Bench Press - (Base: 280)(V1: 560)(V2: 1,120)(V3: 4,480)(V4: 71,680 (35.84t))(V5: 18,350,080 (9,175.04t))(V6: 1,202,590,842,880 (601,295,421t))
Squat - (Base: 320)(V1: 640)(V2: 1,280)(V3: 5,120)(V4: 81,920 (40.96t))(V5: 20,971,520 (10,485.76t))(V6: 1,374,389,534,720 (687,194,767t))
Short-range Punch - (Base: 170)(V1: )(V2: )(V3: )(V4: )(V5: )(V6: )
Reverse Punch - (Base: 300)(V1: )(V2: )(V3: )(V4: )(V5: )(V6: )
Placeholder - (Base: )(V1: )(V2: )(V3: )(V4: )(V5: )(V6: )

Sean's power has a simple weakness, an energy pool that all his boost stages draw from to various degrees, preventing him from maintaining the higher tiers often or easily. Essentially, each stage costs a certain amount to maintain, but they only expend energy at all if Sean is actively moving (and thus benefitting actively from the boost), which allows him to charge up more easily and less wastefully to higher levels by simply standing still.
First stage is low enough that he could hold it indefinitely and actually recharge his reserves.
Second stage neutralizes. He makes as much energy as it spends. Can't recharge (assuming he just lowered from a higher stage).
Third Stage, he's actively loosing energy and on a time limit, if a fairly generous one (3 continuous hours).
Fourth stage, same as the third, but way worse, not for reckless use (30 continuous minutes).
Fifth stage, drain is so bad in order to actually reach the sixth stage, he would have to sit still and do literally nothing but breathe if at all possible, basically meditating for the time it takes to reach his peak ability (3 continuous minutes).
Sixth stage. True absurdity. In real time, he only has a few seconds of action time, but that's likely to be more than enough.
Shonen Transportation (Striker 0): It's not quite clear if this is an aspect of his Breaker power or entirely separate. In practice, however, it allows Overlock to safely transport other people and objects, even while moving at his top speed. While they may not share his enhanced reflexes or perceptions for the duration, they also seem to suffer little if any vertigo afterwards.
Semi-Immutability (Trump 0): Overclock's powers have a noticeable resistance to being altered, stolen, copied, or boosted, enough so that he can usually continue to operate in some normal capacity.


Other: Favorite power sets involve time stopping or manipulation. Though, I'm becoming a big fan of speedsters as well.

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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Duoya

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Duoya

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"'Where'd I get this?' Jeez, well that's a bit direct, don't you think? You should really- wait, don't take it!"

Name: 
Wilbur Levin

Alias: 
Gray Man 
(You need to hire better PR people, 'Machiavelli' is a way better name.)

Nicknames: 
'Justin Case', 'Doogie Howser', 'Jackie Daytona', 'MacReady', and several other aliases are on file. Mr. Levin is prone to adopting these false personas when interacting with others, especially if he is attempting to go undetected. 

Prefers being called 'Will' during casual interactions.

Age: 
15

Gender: 
Male

Personality: 
Mr. Levin is a charismatic, personable, and manipulative individual who regularly changes how he acts around staff and his fellow Wards. He seems especially close with Dr. Williams, his therapist, as both are interested in the same hobbies (notably, cinema). The PR department is quite fond of Mr. Levin, as he is able to easily deliver lines and has a disarming demeanor that makes him more approachable. 

To most people, Mr. Levin seems to display a warm and friendly demeanor, allowing him to close distances very quickly. As he builds a rapport and understands them more, he refines his persona, becoming much more reserved and less dynamic - something Dr. Williams believes is due to needing less bombastic actions to get attention. Mr. Levin has been seen on numerous occasions going far beyond what is expected of him in order to help his friends, either legally or legally. However, while being quite amicable to those that fulfill his need fo-▂▃▅▃▅▃▃, he is quick to use innocent bystanders to further his own goals (See: The Coffee Incident).

Mr. Levin often invites staff and coworkers to interact outside of work hours, especially those whom he is already close with. Some staff believe this is due to his ▂▃▅----▃▃▅▅▃▃, but it could also be a genuine attempt to form new interpersonal relationships. It is HIGHLY recommended that high-level staff and PRT members deny any and all attempts to fraternize that Mr. Levin offers to them, as it can lead to an easy breach of Master/Stranger protocols. 

Mr. Levin is a pathological liar, and all reports he makes should be backed up by either another Ward, or a direct superior. Despite his claims to regret his past actions, his behavior is why-

(The rest of this section has been deleted.)

Appearance: 
Mr. Levin is a teenage male, caucasian, 5'7 and 140 lbs. He has green eyes, and lacks any notable scars, tattoos, or other markings. 

Mr. Levin has an extensive wardrobe, covering a wide variety of genres and various 'fits'. He will change outfits depending on what people he plans to interact with, an attempt on his part to blend in and be more approachable. Typically, he will default to formal attire, and will 'dress down' by removing his coat and/or dress shirt. 

As Gray Man, Mr. Levin's attire is quite generic - a simple suit and tie combo, with a black motorcycle helmet to preserve his identity. This suit is not especially different from his usual attire, though Levin will wear a bulletproof vest underneath it if he is expecting to receive fire. 

Biography: 
Mr. Levin has lived his entire life in Redline, Maine, and was born to a family of three - Robert Levin (Father), Barbara Levin (Mother), and Cole Levin (Brother). There is little information on record of Levin's early life - he received average marks most of his life, and had little involvement in sports or extracurricular activities. When questioned, Cole claimed that Levin had spent most of his youth playing with friends or helping his brother study.

Around 12 years old, Levin's father was killed in a robbery that occurred in his store. It is around this time that more information on Levin appears - detentions for encouraging fights and stealing, shoplifting, and three suspensions over the course of his middle school career. Due to a life insurance payment, the family was able to support these outbursts, as well as pay for Cole to take his bar exam.

At age 15, Levin's mother Barabara got into a car accident and was rendered comatose. Due to this incident, Cole was designated as Levin's guardian, and Levin continues to visit his mother on a weekly basis at ▅▃▂ Medical Center.

Shortly after this incident is the earliest record of Levin's interactions with ▅▅▃▅▂

Mr. Levin seems to have an incredibly deep-seated desire to be liked, as well as what Dr. Williams describes as 'acute imposter syndrome and ▅▅▃▅▃▅▂▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▃▃▅▅▅▅▃▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▃▃▅▅▅▅▃▅▅...rumors...▅▅▅▃▅▅▅▃▅▂▂▂

▃▅▂▅▅▅...video footage...▅▅▅▅▃▃▅

▂▅▂▂

(A large portion of this section, including various interviews and statements, is either deleted or has been rendered completely nonsensical.)

▅▂▃...which caused a great deal of stress for Levin. Thankfully, his brother managed to reach a plea bargain with the prosecution - in exchange for no jail time and a minimal mark on his records, Mr. Levin would join the recently forming Wards team to complete his community service hours.

When further biographical information was requested from Levin to fill his file, he was purposefully vague and deflective. As a result, only information with physical evidence is included in this file, with little contribution from Levin himself.

Powers: 
(DESIGNATION: Master/Stranger 4, Thinker 0)
(NOTES: Standard Master/Stranger protocols should be exercised at all times, passwords among high-level staff must be changed on a biweekly basis.)

Mr. Levin uses his voice as a medium for his power, causing those who hear it to be affected by the Master component. When speaking, everything that Levin says will be taken at face value by the listener, regardless of its absurdity or preexisting evidence to the contrary. Tests have shown that Mr. Levin could convince staff volunteers and paid subjects of nearly anything - including, but not limited to, 'Owing me (sic) 20 dollars' (See Test 013 .mov), 'Leaving your oven running' (See Test 020 .mov), and most notably, 'The sky is brown, and Archangel is attacking.' See Test 029 .mov

Or, you could just say I'm really good at lying.

While Mr. Levin can persuade someone of nearly anything, there are a few topics that lie outside of his ability. When talking with Dr. Anderson (See Test 007 .mov), Levin claimed that 'We have been married for three years!'. Dr. Anderson's eyes glazed over briefly before she immediately denied having ever met Mr. Levin in her life. This, along, with several other (Tests 012, 022, and 023) examples of similar claims, indicates that Mr. Levin is incapable of convincing individuals of things that are deeply engrained in their memories. Examples include important relationships, a job they've held for 20 years, and anything that they know cannot change without notice.

Yeah, if I could convince someone of stuff that big, I'd pull an Annie and become some rich person's kid, not play superhero.

Mr. Levin's power doesn't have a known duration but breaks instantly upon evidence that contradicts the 'lie' being given to the target. Subjects seem to have an awareness that they've been Master'd after the effect is broken, and most have described it as a 'slimy feeling in (their) gut'. Repeated 'breaks' in short succession result in growing discomfort in the target, eventually becoming disorientating, or even causing paranoia and intense migraines. Mr. Levin seems to suffer the same effects when his power ends, which is presumably the reason he is able to identify if someone under his effect has broken free. 

Mr. Levin's power extends as far as his speaking range carries it, with electronic devices like Megaphones or Telephones either drowning out his 'natural' voice or simply not being 'soaked' with his power. Additionally, Mr. Levin has stated that there is difficulty in turning off his powers - according to him, they are his 'default', and suppressing them requires active focus.

It is theorized by certain staff members that Mr. Levin possesses a secondary thinker ability, which allows him to 'read' people around him and identify how to act to, quote 'Make people like him more.' It is unknown if this is truly a Parahuman ability or simply a skill that Mr. Levin is exceptionally proficient in - as a result, he has been given a tentative 'Thinker 0' rating until further research can be done.

(COUNTERMEASURES: In the event Gray Man goes rogue, his Master and Stranger rating will both be raised to 6 due to his knowledge of Master/Stranger Protocols and the function of Ward staff and heroes. Protocols must be strictly enforced, and passwords will be immediately changed. Any incoming personnel, guests, and staff must present proper identification to a security officer, who will be behind soundproofed glass and communicate with an electronic system.) 

Yeah, or bring a gun. What do I look like, Guardian?

Skills: 
People Person: As expected of a Master/Stranger, Mr. Levin is exceptionally skilled at manipulating others, even without the direct use of his powers. He has on more than one occasion broken into the Ward computer network and altered documents pertaining to himself without permission (lol), despite there being no evidence he possesses an understanding of programming. In addition to this hacking, he also regularly brings alcohol into Wards HQ, and has been given several warnings against doing so - but no guard has ever stopped him, due to his friendly relationship with many staff. 

Planning: Mr. Levin is somewhat infamous for his 'cons', plans that he orchestrates in order to accomplish something he wants after his typical persuasion has failed. These can get quite elaborate, as seen by 'The Coffee Incident' (See Laxatives .mov). Despite his short time in the Wards, his ability to accomplish complicated and large-scale operations with minimal manpower and resources makes him very dangerous to leave unsupervised.

Disguise: Mr. Levin is quite skilled with make-up and styling hair, a result of his mother's profession as a Beautician. He makes great use of this with his power, capable of disguising himself with wigs, makeup, and various other implements in order to keep his civilian identity anonymous, while also preventing villains from targeting him as a known Master. His skill in tailoring, while not as notable, is high enough that he chooses to request thread to repair his outfits, rather than order new ones or pay for repairs. 

Other: 
Mr. Levin has a tendency to use sarcasm to disarm situations which, thanks to his power, is often taken quite literally by everyone involved. If you are confused by something Mr. Levin says, please ask him to clarify what he means, and remind him to focus on his speech exercises.

Finally got to this thing - not naming any names, but whoever reads this file next, be sure to tell your coworkers to not write next week's password on a sticky note, ok?

Did my own little edits, I felt like you guys were missing some important information! 

What else to add, what else... Oh, my favorite superpower is Super Speed. Gatecrasher can blow me, the coolest Mover in The Guardians will always be Relativity, no question. RIP

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Hidden 3 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by Mintz

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Mintz

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"You can count on me! But, er, y'might wanna check in 'fore ya mess with my tech..."

Name: Beverly Hillshire

Alias: Workshop

Nicknames: Bev, Hills

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Personality: Beverly can come off as...Hyperactive. When she's talking to others, in stark contrast to most other Tinkers, she's usually the one with the reins, dragging the conversation around as she bounces from topic to topic with mile-a-minute thoughts pouring from her head and through her mouth, and when she's on her own, you can usually catch her muttering to herself more often than she isn't. 

Most of the time, she's completely unaware that she has devolved into utter rambling until someone can get her to shut her trap. She doesn't really do it intentionally; more of a side effect of her ability, and Bev does her best to keep it in check when she can. If you can get by her babbling, she's a southern sweetheart who just wants to do her best to be useful to other people, and she takes the opinions of others to heart...Perhaps more than she should. While outwardly quite put-together, energetic and excitable, her deep-seated need to be needed, and to have the appreciation of others, is something that both drives her and can drag her into dark places. 

While not a complete sheep, Bev is quick to fold under positive reinforcement, and as such could be manipulated in these ways. She does her best to be her own boss and use her head, but in spite of being a Tinker, she finds her heart does most of the thinking for her...For better and worse. 

Appearance: Miss Hillshire is clearly one of a good handful of high school gals to finally hit that final growth spurt, and the results speak for themselves. She stands at a respectable 5'9 ft., and weighs in at around 155 lbs. Which might be a bit of chub, but she's got plenty of muscle! Not quite the kind you get working out or the sort, but the kind earned by hard labor and hand-crafting affronts to the laws of the universe. Her skin is lightly tanned from hidden years making Tinkertech in the shipyard. Her face, while toughened by the nature of her work and a few experiments gone rogue, maintains a certain softness to it, and her sharp red eyes, while at first perhaps seen as fierce and intimidating, instead speak to her joyful nature as they sparkle with mirth in the heat of her passion projects, and a mass of curly brown hair that manages to cascade all the way to her waist. 

She tries to keep her clothing simple, both because she doesn't particularly care about it, and because it'll make her work easier the less it gets in her way. She normally wears a teal blue sports top alongside a comfortable pair of black zip-up leggings. On her waist, she might normally have a dark blue hoodie tied there, but in the colder months of the year, she's usually wearing it instead. Lastly, she wears heavy-duty black boots and fingerless gloves. The boots might look a bit too large for her, but she likes them because they're airy and still keep the heavy snow out. Mostly. 

As for her costume, well...She didn't think that far ahead. She's thinking maybe some kinda big mask? Maybe like a welder's? Ooh, that'd be cool! And probably some satchels or a bag for all the stuff she likes carrying around. That'd be good. And probably something better than her civvie clothes to cover her, though she's clueless on what. She'd make armor or something, but those don't come out too often....Oh well! She'll figure something out. 

Biography: Beverly and her family weren't originally from Redline; about eight or nine years back (she's sorta forgotten), they moved from a quiet town in Oklahoma to way, way up to Maine because her pa got a job offer they couldn't resist. It hurt a bit, because she was happy with where she'd been from. Had some good friends, was doing well in school, getting involved in the neighborhood....But, well, some things just gotta happen. 

She didn't fit in as well here, and the situation around the city was completely different from what she'd grown up with; it was scary, but more pressing for someone like her, it was confusing. She liked being able to understand things, yet she couldn't wrap her head around all the chaos, the gang wars, and most of all, the villains. But like an ostrich with its head in the sand, she decided to ignore these things that just couldn't fit into her brain, and move on with life. 

Long story short....Redline happened. 

Bev lost her pops, and her mom wasn't taking it well. Didn't help that shortly afterwards, her Tinker ability had manifested; for weeks it left her mind in shambles, sandwiched between her tidal wave of emotions and a disgusting flow of blueprints, concepts, and a desire to create. It's always those early weeks that are the hardest. 

She learned to cope by hanging out in the shipyard. Her ma would've had her head if she knew about it, with all the gang stuff that went down this side of the city, but it kept her out of her spiraling parent's hair for a bit, and let her organize her disheveled thoughts as she took bits and pieces from scrapped ships, and began building...Things. 

There was no rhyme or reason, and it pissed her off. She could never make what she wanted to make; only what her stupid head decided to. While eventually she grew to enjoy the process, of letting her mind wander and design whatever it fancied, she still holds some bitterness in how it functions. Still, she looked on the bright side; at least she wasn't a villain. Heck, when a member of The Mutants accidentally got ahold of something she had been working on, it put them on ice. Literally, like a cryogenic grenade. Making an impromptu citizen's arrest and not sticking around to be questioned, Bev was a bit giddy at the excitement building in her. Building her tech was one thing, but getting to see it in action was something else altogether! 

Eventually, Beverly became anonymously known as The Shipyard Tinker, and due to the peculiarity of her devices and the mystery of her nature, none of the ill forces present attempted to pull anything with her. Heck, sometimes she even got to make small deals with some vigilantes or, on the rare chance, honest-to-gosh heroes who were interested in some Tinkertech to give them an edge. It was fun while it lasted!

Earlier this month, however, her little hideout was spoiled by Mr. Fukuda, though he made her an offer she couldn't possibly refuse. The Wards Initiative?! Becoming a proper Cape?! Working with OTHER CAPES HER AGE?! The thought was static to the mind and a charge to the heart. She hadn't managed to make much friends in her time at Redline, but surely this would be a good chance, and she'd get to help the good guys on top of it all! AND have access to PRT resources, even including the work of other Tinkers?! There was no way she was passing this up!

Powers/Skills:

[DESIGNATION: Tinker 5 (tentative 2 in any other given Classification)]

Chaos Creations: Beverly's Tinker talents are nearly limitless in thought, but quite so in practice. She generally does her best work making cheap, quick-and-easy devices that possess a short shelf life if not give consistent proper maintenance. However, her process also involves some...Peculiarities. For one, she has no conscious say in what exactly she makes, essentially Tinkering by instinct over anything else, and in fact has made things in her sleep more often than she'd admit. This means she just makes what she makes, and has to roll with it. This also means she generally doesn't know the exact applications of any given thing she makes, though she can usually intuit it well enough. 

This also comes at the cost of focus. If she does attempt to properly work through a design and put her mind into it, it tampers with her natural process. Anything she makes this way generally becomes of much poorer make, more ineffective, or prone to being incredibly unstable and/or dangerous. The only things she can put some level of intent behind are builds based around the scanning and monitoring of vital signs, though she's hesitant to elaborate on why this might be. 

Hands-On Learner: While not classified as being apart of her power (yet), Beverly possesses deft hands and is skilled at hastily putting things together, or taking them apart, and seems to gain a decent idea of how to do those processes to any other tech she lays her hands on. This might just be a talent of hers, but the PRT are still debating this being a possible Thinker, or perhaps even Striker, part of her capabilities. 

Cooking Intuition: Beverly has gone on record to claim she has little to no experience cooking or learning to cook, but has shown a strange aptitude for it not unlike her ability to inherently Tinker without much thought, though thankfully without the edge of randomness. In other words, she's a very competent cook, and has a small hobby of making and baking sugary delights on some off-time, as she finds sweets helpful to give her an extra boost getting through her process. 

Well-Built: While nowhere near superhumanly strong or fast, having to haul around all her junk by hand, and working it by hand, has built some impressive muscle on her, making her stronger and quicker than one might anticipate; though it's not like she's well-versed in hand-to-hand or anything. 

Other: As her time as The Shipyard Tinker, she got offers extended to her from both The Mutants and Knight Aspirant. While she seriously considered KA, she ended up turning both of them down. Hopefully they don't put two and two together when Workshop makes her debut...

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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by TruthHurts22

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"You know that, uh, people died a lot even before Capes, yeah? You can't get complacent because of... all that."

Name: Edwin Charles

Alias: Schrödinger

Nicknames: Ed. What, they can't all be creative or witty.

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Personality: Even before his Trigger Event, Edwin's always had a bit of... death anxiety. Thanatophobia. A series of close calls as a young child imprinted on his mind, etching memories that, while he can't necessarily recall, shaped the kid he is today. He's always jumpy, nervous, difficult to keep still. Think less 'tweeker needing a fix', more 'feeling eyes on his back'. He has a lot of frantic energy coursing through him in any situation save for the absolute safest, giving him a very narrow focus, a one-track mind that he does his very best not to derail. Now multiply that by about 9 post-Trigger Event, and that's a lot of his deal nowadays.

Upsides? Well, there's very few; Edwin's anxieties make him pretty rough around the edges, leaving him terse and bratty and generally bad with people. His singlemindedness makes him very effective at doing what needs doing, pragmatic in his approach, seeing as he's always on the edge of Fight or Flight. Due to a need to be heard (stemming from the idea that his anxieties have to be taken seriously) he can also be quite direct with people - blunt, honest, and not taking any bullshit... not to say that he's always able to get the words out. It's also sparked a surprising creative streak in him. If Edwin wasn't a Cape, he could make a nice living as an artist.

Appearance: Edwin is tall. Very tall. Not, like, being-tall-is-his-power tall, but tall for a normal person. A clean 6'7" in height, in fact. He's not very picky with his wardrobe, though there is a consistent theme of baggy clothing, layers, long sleeves and long pants - things that make him bulkier, that he could "turtle" inside of, in a manner of speaking. He also always wears glasses, since he's so near-sighted as to be practically blind and refuses contact lenses.

As a Cape, he gets a little flashier. A deep gray cowl and a match open-front skirt, mimicking the Grim Reaper's iconic cloak, overtop some standard protective gear - thick vest, pads on the joints, steel-toe boots, etc. His wireframe glasses are replaced with a pair of prescription safety goggles wrapped around his head. The most striking element is a bright red jacket combat jacket worn over it all, the pockets and holsters holding various self-defense gear (collapsing batons, hand taser, maybe a pepper spray or two), made to turn him into a tempting target. It wasn't his idea. 

Biography: For the most part Edwin's life had been pretty normal. His mother left his father early in his life, so he doesn't really know much about her. His dad raised him as well as he could by himself, but a few times he grew neglectful, leading to a very young Edwin to end up in dangerous situations more than once. Physically he came out of them okay, but the collective near-death experiences traumatized the poor kid - the memories were repressed, barely even registering in his mind, but the feelings stuck with him for the rest of his life.

This wasn't his Trigger Event, though. Beyond those awful moments Edwin existed as anyone would, though the budding signs of his thanatophobia cropped up around kindergarten, when the very thought of sharpening pencils, reaching for books on high shelves, or sitting under a faulty light made him almost too fearful to pay attention. Things were... tough for him from then on. Every step forward in overcoming the fear was accompanied by him aging and growing more aware of everything that could be what does him in. Edwin became marked as 'the weird kid' in his schools, too anxious to hold friendships for long, and for a while he was ostracized. Come Freshman Year of Highschool, however, he met someone who understood him. Not fully, but enough. They became highschool sweethearts, and the relationship had a very positive effect on him. Nearing senior year, Edwin had most of the fears under control.

Then he got his powers.

When the school year was to start, Edwin was in the hospital - nothing major, just a broken leg and a mile-long stare. By the time he healed up, he was being investigated for manslaughter. When that charge cleared, another one cropped up. And another. And one more. The last year of his school life became an unfortunate series of terrible tragedies that left him under harsh scrutiny, as the nature of his powers were juuust esoteric enough to not be understood by civilians or noticed by Capes. After a while of having these powers (and after a handful of house arrests), Edwin grew... as close to comfortable as he could be with it all. He trained a little on his own, cultivating a very slight modicum of control, as well as picking up more mundane self-defense techniques, and spent most of his free time writing, drawing, painting, just making things from the confines of his home. Right before he turned 18, someone finally connected the dots, and he was picked up by the PRT. For his own sake, and for the people around him.

Edwin was almost too old to join the new Wards division, but between his tumultuous mental state and low grasp on his powers, it was deemed necessary.

Powers:
(Designation: Mover 5 / 1, Trump ?, Thinker 2)
Edwin has an eclectic set of powers that, despite being unrefined and unable to be controlled directly, make him a very disruptive element.
• Protective Spatial Displacement: Edwin's most notable power is the ability to avoid harm by swapping places with another person. Of course, that's just the easy way to say it. A completely passive power, it triggers at the precise moment when some form of injury would otherwise come to him, switching his position with that of the closest person to him that is clear of whatever danger there is (ie, if someone were to shoot him point-blank he'd swap with them, but if he was caught in a burning building with another person, the swap would be with someone outside, safe from the fire). The swap isn't just of placement, but also their position in space (ie, if someone shoots him while his hands are raised, the swap would have Edwin holding the gun and their hands being raised the same way). The power only triggers if significant harm will come to Edwin - it wouldn't save him from being flicked with a rubberband, but will save him from anything between a solid punch to complete body annihilation.

There are three main flaws with this power: the first, obviously, being that Edwin has no say in who he ends up swapping with, it's always the nearest, safest human being. The second is that it does not trigger entirely consecutively. A full three seconds is needed before it will trigger again - not a long time, but enough for someone to get the drop on him. The third is that it only works on things that he's aware of happening. Things that fall outside of his awareness (even something like hearing a gun click or tasting a bit of poison) won't trigger it.
• Minor Teleportation: After a concentrated effort put into training, Edwin has managed to grow a very, very slight handling on this power, allowing him to manually teleport a short distance (roughly less than five feet from his starting location). There is still a 'cooldown' of three seconds before he can do it again, but interestingly this isn't tied to the main power, meaning he can teleport and, in the same moment, be displaced from harm.
• Power Eclipsing: The full ramifications of this facet have yet to be explored, but one final quirk of Edwin's Spatial Displacement is the capability of overriding a Cape's own powers. For the brief window of time when Edwin is truly vulnerable - the three seconds after a swap - Edwin essentially usurps control of the powers of the person he swapped with, as if they're still 'catching up' to their owner's new position in space. However, this only happens if the reason for the swap was due to a usage of powers to begin with. If a Cape were to get at him with mundane means, then this element won't occur.
• Heightened Senses & Instinct: Alongside all that poofing and goofing, Edwin also gained supernaturally enhanced sense - taste, touch, smell, and hearing, but not sight. As well, a kind've 'sixth sense' has been enhanced, most likely the primal instinct that alerts people to danger (in layman's term, a Spidey-Sense). This combines to give Edwin a greater awareness of things around him, possible threats, and an extra heap load of anxiety. But, that one isn't part of the package.

Skills: Having already feared death, dying, and injury for most of his life, Edwin has learned a good amount of ways in keeping himself safe, from the use of common self-defense weapons to a hodgepodge of martial arts, namely for disarming and disorienting people. He also has a very artistic side to him, a skill he's cultivated regardless of what's been happening in his life. Painting, design, writing, he's dabbled in it all.

Other: Iiiii would like to flyyyyyyy

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Hidden 3 yrs ago → 3 yrs ago Post by Blizz

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Blizz Grand Chancellor Supreme of the Wizard Council

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Bio 2 days ago

 
”Uh. Need a hand?”

Name

Jane Rosner

Alias

Scraprig

Nicknames

Scrappy

Age

17

Gender

Female - She|Her

Personality

Defensive, dodgy, twitchy, squirrely. What more could you say? Jane acts like she's got something hiding under the floorboards that would land her in prison when you try to press her for intimate details about herself. Whenever you get her talking about something like her tech, or just something as mundane as the weather, she's perfectly fine. But the moment you ask why she doesn't have a birth certificate, it's a long story, and she doesn't know what you're talking about, she just has it stuffed away somewhere too inconvenient to get at this particular moment. Also, she's suddenly very busy. As long as you don't get too close, she's chill and like to hang around you. That is, if you can get around her at all. Being a tinker, Jane tends to stay locked away somewhere for hours at a moment's notice staring at a piece of something that's supposed to move, and she won't come out until she makes it move exactly the right number of degrees that it's supposed to move, so help her god. 

Jane is also a little...weird around big crowds. She starts getting paranoid and acts like she's looking for someone, but if you ask, she doesn't know what you're talking about and you're being weird. It's hard to tell if she's trying to find someone, or if she's trying to not be found by someone. She might even be to make sure someone else isn't found. You can never tell with her. She's scrappy like that.

Appearance

Scruffy and taller than some girls, Jane is visibly an active person. Her hair is always cut in a very choppy way, which is probably because she's literally been chopping it with a knife for the last few months. The most notable thing about her is the spindly and geometrically messy left arm she has. Her right arm moves like a human arm, while her left tends to move in very jittery ways, and has the manual dexterity of a leopard seal. If you can’t tell it’s mechanical by the fact that she chops a tin can in half like her hand is the jaws of life, wait until she rolls up her sleeve and a fog light shines out of her wrist.

Biography

Who’s askin’? All you need to know is she lost her arm after a villain gang rolled through her town a year and a half ago, and she triggered roughly six months after when she ran into them again. Mind your own business! Well, if you must know, she’s also been living in an abandoned junkyard for roughly the same time that she’s been a parahuman. It’s not pretty, but at least she can rig something up to keep herself warm at night. Jane’s trigger event is on a need-to-know basis, bucko, and you don’t!

Powers/Skills

Despite acting like a Stranger to the core, Jane is a Tinker whose speciality is…complicated. If you asked her, she would say some convoluted thing like “Electro-cybermechanics.” Anything that consists of a combination of electrical technology and mechanical, as well as anything that can interface with an entire human is something Jane should theoretically be able to work with. This includes robot suits, heavy duty gizmos, and, much to her fortune and general gratitude, mechanical limbs. How they work is also “complicated,” much like the work of any tinker on the planet, but she also has a much more concrete specialty in the form of scrapping and repurposing. The problem with this is that everything she makes in such a way looks like something out of a low-budget Mad Max movie, but easily accessible.

Jane can turn a drive train and a break pad into a comically long angle grinder, turn a microwave into a kit bashed computer, and only god knows what would happen if she got more than rusted up junk to play with. Her arm was made from a lamp, a table saw, a rusted-out truck axle, a bedbug-infested recliner, and a cut-resistant glove she shoplifted once along with a pack of doubled stuffed Oreos. Also, it only has three fingers.

It looks like shit, but it fucking works.

Other 

• Jane spends a lot of time in public libraries, about as much as she does trying to make her arm less shitty.

• She doesn’t have a birth certificate. Or a state ID…or driver’s license, or SSID. Not that you would want to, but you wouldn’t be able to exactly prove that Jane Rosner is her real name.

• She’s also not technically a resident of Redline.

• Her favorite superpower is probably Amazon’s. She thinks Amazon is hot.

• In the last few weeks, she’s been heavily considering joining the Knights Aspirant so she can have money and get out of a nasty-as-sin Junkyard. There are no hero teams who would want a tinker whose gimmick is junk, but if she’s lucky, the power armored mercs will.

"This is the last chance I’ll give you to surrender before your life is forfeit."

Name: 
Sierra M. Danvers

Alias:
Siren

Nicknames:
None

Age:
38

Gender:
Female - She|Her

Personality:
Stoic and hard to read, people tend to think Siren is a too intimidating to talk to, and while she is, she's only intimidating the way that someone is when they're stone-cold serious about doing their job properly without room for failure. Siren commands respect wherever she goes with an air of well-backed confidence, she knows exactly what she is capable of, and makes a point of knowing exactly what the people around her are capable of as well. 

Siren is a dependable woman, she’s not afraid to offer assistance to heroes who need it, and has been known to steer the occasional innocent parahuman away from going down the path of villainy. Anyone who has had the opportunity to work with her knows that she has her act together, and has had it together for years, which is a lot more than most parahumans can say. She has taken on a great deal of responsibility during her hero career, and isn’t afraid go down swinging for her convictions.

Beneath her tough exterior lies a deep sense of compassion for the world around her. Years of dedicating herself to fighting back villains and even the Heralds mean she has weathered more than her fair share of storms. One can argue that Siren is a bit of an outlier, having witnessed as much as she has over the years without losing the determination in her eye to keep going. Some may find it inspiring, others may think she’s simply hiding more hurt and baggage than they realize.

Appearance: 
Out of costume, it's all comfort. Sweatpants, baggy sweatshirts, and anything that doesn't make her feel too humid. Due to the side effects of her powers, Sierra's hair is always wet. She hasn't been able to successfully dry it in the last two decades. How wet depends on how much she uses her powers. After a head-on fight with villains, it looks like she dunked her head underwater. When she wakes up in the morning, it only feels somewhat damp. Don't ask how she sleeps comfortably. Don't ask about the eye, either. Siren wears a getup that makes someone think she's a pirate instead of, well, a siren. Turquoise colored, hydrophobic longcoat, a pair of knee-high boots, padded elbow gloves, and bulletproof vest designed to look like a regular undershirt for subtlety.

Biography: 
She fell from the top and couldn’t swim. 

Everything was blue for as far as she could see, her limbs felt like stone. She was cold. There was no solid ground to stand on anymore, she was far from the shore by now, no doubt. The rumble in her ears was all she could hear, the faint reflection of sunlight from the far off surface was growing further and further.

But she thrashed and clawed through the water. She tried with every fleeting breath to pull herself closer to the light. Her lungs were screaming. She could feel her strength dwindling, and her arms didn’t get any lighter for it. 

She sank down.

And down.

Down.

”I don’t want to die.”

Everything went black, and the sky spilled open.  A storm emerged from a cloudless sky over the land, screaming winds and rain heavy enough to drown the highest mountains. Thunder shook the ground for miles, trees were torn from their roots as if they were grass, and she walked home across the ocean.

She was the ocean.

When the storm passed, she knew she was different.

Sierra was a Breaker. A Parahuman.

”My name is Siren.”

24 years have passed since Sierra’s trigger event, and she has spend that time using her powers as an independent hero by the name of Siren, protecting her home from all manners of villains, joining the fight against Heralds, and eventually using her experience to set examples for other up and coming heroes. Siren never hid her identity, to the surprise of many, as she knows she was never perfect, and knew she had to hold herself accountable should she ever make a mistake that out others in harm’s way. As a very successful and competent vigilante, Siren had received countless offers from hero teams, some sponsored by the PRT, others independent. She never took the offers, they were never her scene.

Before coming to Redline, she was a very well-known quantity where she came from. She brought down many villains over the years, and made close friends among the more “professional” heroes. Siren always took pride in her ability to spur changes among capes and guide others down a good path. It was that willingness to set examples that made the PRT approach her in a more official capacity for the Wards Initiative. It was not the first time they spoke, but rather than say they wanted, they conveyed that they needed someone like her for the Guardians in Redline. They needed her affinity for guidance among younger capes, and she obliged.

There was never a reason for Siren to join the PRT officially. She always had plenty of money from working in the Marina where she was thrown from just before her trigger event. She had enough common sense not to do anything stupid with her powers, and she always enjoyed the freedom of independent work. But Siren was accustomed to supporting less experienced capes from her time spent in costume, and she believed in what the PRT did. When they told her about a movement to train parahuman children who may be coming from bad circumstances and equip them with the tools to be the next generation of heroes, she gladly took a place among the Redline Guardians.

Powers: Hydrokinesis/Water Physiology  [Breaker 7(Shaker 6)] 
Siren has a form she shifts into where her body is altered to be made of water. Her clothes blur and mingle with the surface of her skin and seem to cascade away towards any edge. Her hair goes from being constantly wet to a raging waterfall in the shape of hair, that no one can touch without their hand passing through or being pushed back out. In this form, Sierra absorbs any free water in a solid or gaseous state that her body touches, which is used to slowly heal wounds. She can also walk on water in this state, but the most important advantage to Siren’s Breaker state is that it allows her to access her Shaker power: Hydrokinesis. In this form, she can freely manipulate free water in any state, such as liquid or ice cubes, on a molecular level. This allows Siren to artificially change the state of water and move it like an extension of her body, which it technically is. Her body takes on the physical properties of water, which can allow some forms of physical damage to pass right through her.

Siren is also capable of altering the weather with enough humidity in the air, effectively forcing rain to pour down. This doesn't have much of a practical use unless the rain is particular heavy, and takes time, but it makes Siren ability to flood a street a lot easier if it happens. Siren can't recreate the wind or lighting associated with a thunderstorm, but sometimes, when she is pushed into circumstances like the ones during her trigger event, a full-blown thunderstorm just might occur outside of her control.

Other: 
She lost her eye and half of the skin on her face to a striker with an explosion power that turned organic matter into bombs.

Theme Song 
The Real McKenzies - The Tempest

open.spotify.com/track/6gXLYsEkqlhe41…

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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Mintz

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"Ah, feels good to be back in the swing of things. Now, where to start...?"

Name: ????

Alias: Writhe, The Seven's Head, The First. 

Nicknames: N/A

Age: Unknown

Gender: Presumed Male

Personality: Writhe is the worst kind of monster; the one that still feigns a humanity it lost long ago. If it weren't for his unnatural, monstrous appearance, wreathed in shadow with tendrils hungering for prey practically trembling in anticipation, his personality wouldn't make you suspect a thing about him. He acts casually in any situation, even when there are others in The Seven who probably want his head. He never gives off anything more than an air of confidence and aura of pure assurance; he knows what he wants to do and how he'll do it, and will never hesitate, merely...Reconfigure his ideas, if something goes out of place, or piques a new interest in him. 

Underneath that cool exterior is a vile creature. His existence, even by his own words, is to cause despair for others, to drive people into the depravity he knows they are capable of; and he wants to be the one to bear witness to it. That twisted desire, paired off with an unnatural charisma, may be what draws deviants to him, and be what allowed him to forge The Six initially. He takes great pleasure in that work, and surprisingly, just as much in seeing himself thwarted, to see the 'good guys' doing their best against his horrifying odds. After all, what good would wickedness be without its opposite to pair with? Dreadfully boring. And bored is the one thing Writhe never wants to be. He can be patient, and tolerate days, months, even years of silence...But inevitably, like a predator that had been caged, only to be abruptly released, he will always pursue his base nature at the earliest convenience. A beast, but with the social graces of the best of humankind. A terrifying combination. 

One thing that interests him beyond his goal are Parahumans at large. Perhaps it is because they wear those cracks of the heart, mind, and soul on their sleeves with their abilities, instead of those who Writhe has had to break himself. Perhaps he can relate to them, knowing they've each got their own little demons, whereas he has become his. Or perhaps it is merely because he understands the potential each Parahuman has; the ability to change the world for the worse. Perhaps it is all of the above. Regardless, he takes special interest in them, evident in how he fights against Powered individuals of all sorts. He...Toys with them. Striking enough to keep them off balance, but taking his time to try and pry into their psyche; to understand them. To break them. Like some kind of deranged Shadow Shrink, he works his way into how they think and act, and then decides what to do from there.

Sometimes he just lets them go; maybe he's decided they're more trouble than they're worth, or he takes enough interest in them to let them see another day, but just doesn't want them with him. On other occasions, he may try and recruit them, preying on their vulnerabilities to find what he needs to say. Others, well...He doesn't like it, but sometimes, they just aren't very interesting. Those ones he disposes of pretty quickly. Just no fun. On the other hand, sometimes he takes an interest in an individual, but can't fit them into his spots; doesn't want them to just walk off, but they can't join him, or won't. In those cases, he just tries to break them until they submit or shatter, both are enjoyable for him either way. Emotionally, physically, even mentally. All fair game to him, and he likes to mix the three together for the best and most interesting results. 

Normal people, civilians, are usually beneath his interest beyond their scope in his 'games' he plays with Capes. Just dull, living their quiet, mundane lives. Not even worth prying into. On occasion, though, he may find an otherwise normal individual that he takes an interest in; sees the spark of potential. Those people, he likes them a lot. It's one thing meeting like-minded individuals...It's another altogether to make one yourself. Those impressionable sorts, who just need a push in the right direction, or a shove into a place of darkness....It's ecstacy to him, making a new member over simply finding them. 

Appearance: No one is certain why he looks the way he does; presumably it has to do with his ability, but even then, it's...Off-putting. Any time he shows up, he always looks like this. A mere shadow of a human being, nearly no discernable features to him. Just those piercing white eyes, the sole feature of an otherwise featureless form. He stands around 5'9, but...It fluctuates, changes with his almost fluid moments, terrifying as they are. His form no longer seems bound by a body in the human sense...Which only adds to his monstrous reputation. 

Then there are the tendrils. Like extensions of himself, tentacles of inky darkness that stretch around him, eager to act...Eager to kill. If his size is left to be questioned, then these are even more puzzling. They seem to reach out from the center of his back, coiling around him; roughly the length of his arm. However, they can go far longer than that, stretching across the length of a street to pursue his targets, dragging them back to despair...

To writhe. 

Biography:

Hotel. Shadows. Money. Boss. Payment. Capes. Incident. Flames. Pain. Words. Pain. Struck. Pain. Pain. Pain....

Then Darkness. 

A flash of images, with feelings that mean nothing now to the thing that is Writhe. Whatever past this man had, it was cast aside the day he became this monster, and he has no intentions of returning...If he ever could to begin with. The first thing Writhe ever did, after all, was kill one of the original four of The Guardians; Shockwave. It was a horrific scene straight from a slasher, the kind of bloodied mess that could only come from a beast with nothing to lose, and nothing to gain. All that left was violent instinct, a desire to life. For what?

......

He didn't care. He would keep living. 

Eventually, he found purpose, not through his own musings, but in what he discovered he was being painted as; the terrifying bogeyman who had killed a member of The Guardians, and thwarted the rest who had tried to contain him. Fooled Guardian, outskilled Amazon, and outmaneuvered Gatecrasher. He was a menace...Perhaps that was something worth being. And so it would be. 

He traveled across the United States. Capes found it impossible to pin the man down; his method of travel was untraceable, and his attacks too unrelated and abrupt. He outthought Thinkers left and right, avoiding capture and always ending up on top. Eventually, attempts to track and contain the thing that was now being dubbed Writhe were ended. They resolved to doing damage control, arriving where he would appear, control the carnage, and try to apprehend him when they could. 

This game of cat-and-mouse was different from the usual stuff of Capes, because this rat bit back. And soon, other vermin flocked...

People just as twisted as he, though perhaps not in the same ways. Still, it gave him an epiphany. His goal to sow fear and raise hell would be made all the easier, and certainly more interesting, with others that wished to join. A sick little family of freaks. How fitting. Thus, the Slaughterhouse Six was born. 

This has gone on for almost twenty years, with the Six (or now, The Seven) getting beaten back, though never without loss of life...And hope. Even their latest defeat in New York, costing Writhe six of his fellow freaks, was not without horrific blowback. One of them, Fallout, could control and emit radiation, and focus it into radioactive bursts of energy. A fun power, and Writhe had big hopes for what would happen when he was pushed too far. He was proven right, since he went nuclear over The Big Apple, leveling most of the city along with himself. Writhe, of course, escape. 

He has been on his lonesome for a time, perhaps giving the world a chance to breath. Just meant he had to raise the stakes even more for their next appearance...And bolster their numbers, of course. 

Powers/Skills:

[DESIGNATION: Stranger 6/Mover 9
/Trump (Brute, Master, potential Thinker)]

Umbral Trespassing: Writhe's ability allows him to traverse in a 'shadow world', which he accesses by slipping into even a small spot where there are shadows to be seen, or where general darkness dominates the area. While in this area, Writhe is impossible to track and immune to nearly any form of assault, and in this area, he can traverse to any other spot where his power would be applicable and emerge there. This travel is not instantaneous, but it is far faster than he could traverse on foot. His high Mover ranking is less towards raw speed and more towards inconceivable levels of mobility. In an area of darkness, he can submerge and emerge nearly anywhere, striking from any possible location, all while practically camouflaged in the shadows, even his bright white eyes strangely remaining unseen in darkness. Writhe has been seen making unorthodox usage of this ability, such as sticking in limbs to strike out at different locations, while staying stationary in another spot, or dragging others into and through the 'shadow world', allowing him to control the locations of enemies and allies. 

The Powers specified in this section are to remain out of the public eye for fear of raising additional concerns about The Seven and Writhe himself. This is also due to some of the Powers spoken of in this section to be speculative, as his skulking nature makes properly understanding his capabilities troublesome. 

Shadow Body: His body seems entirely comprised of a pseudo-amorphous, shadow-like substance. It grants him Brute-level resilience to most conventional forms of offense to a noteworthy degree. Comparable, if not nearly as potent, as Progeny. Energy-based assaults, such as fire, lightning, or pure energy itself seem somewhat more effective, though not perfect. He seems to possess a sensitivity to light, and light-based attacks can cause notable damage to him. Natural sunlight or other forms of non-Powered sources of light, while causing minor pain and perhaps disorientating him, are not effective means of defeating him. 

Unnatural Senses: Writhe possesses the ability to see flawlessly even in pitch darkness, and potentially also has the ability to detect things that are nearby or on top of shadows, as he has shown oddly high awareness in attempts to ambush him, implying some form of extrasensory ability. 

Shadow Tendrils: Emerging from the center of his back, anywhere from two to six dark tentacle-like creations can sprout out, granting him his Master classification; unnatural extensions of himself that are stronger, faster, and tougher than he is, and can stretch out to 30 feet away from his position. However, he has ways to...Ignore this restriction. Apparently, these extensions can utilize his Trespass ability, extending through the 'shadow world' at even higher speeds than they already moved at, reaching out from the darkness to strike at targets. While their normal method of attack seems to be wrapping around the target's limbs to restrict movement, and then drag them off (or bludgeon them across the ground/walls as necessary), they can also act like spears, piercing into individuals and writhing around inside them to unpleasant degrees, effectively tearing them inside out. This is where his name originates...Because it's what he did to Shockwave. 

Power Draining: His aforementioned 'Trump' classification, Parahumans within a currently unknown range of Writhe will began to experience a slow draining of their ability, which is expedited by proximity to Writhe, or God forbid direct contact from him or his tendrils. Eventually, the Power is restored after some time away from Writhe, usually multiple hours, on occasion even days if contact was prolonged. However, this is merely an aspect of the true effect his ability intends to perform...Regardless, he's able to 'flip' this ability on and off as he wishes, so as to ensure he isn't weakening fellow members of The Seven. 

Life Siphoning: Those within his radius, or getting into contact with Writhe, begin to feel weaker, sluggish, feeble...Unwittingly having their very life taken from them. When used on Parahumans, their abilities interrupt this process, essentially interposing between the effect and their life force, at the cost of the ability itself weakening, and eventually failing altogether, rendering them just as vulnerable. While what the power does with this energy is unknown, presumptions from the Think Tank include it being used to extend his life, grant him temporary high-level Brute strength, or even simply as a fuel source for his other abilities. Perhaps all of the above. It is notable that he has never drained an individual to death; whether this is because he cannot, or because it doesn't serve his purposes, remains unknown. As mentioned before, this Power is not permanently on, and in fact, Writhe seems to keep it as a trump card of sorts for particularly troublesome scenarios. 

Silence: Strangely enough, Writhe seems to give off no sounds beyond when he speaks. He cannot be heard breathing, the fall of his footsteps are completely silent to even the most superhuman of hearing, and even when he is struck, there is an odd, awful silence to it. On an equally strange note, he also seems to have no smell to him, either. 

Parahuman Thinker: Given his unnatural 'charisma' and ability to interact with other Parahumans, we have reason to suspect he may possess a Thinker ability orientated around understanding other Parahumans and their abilities. This is entirely unconfirmed from the Think Tank, so it is mere speculation.

Other: The only concrete information the PRT has on Writhe's past is that he is almost certainly a former resident of the USA. Beyond that...He's a disturbingly large blank in history.

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"Don't you see? I'm going to save you... All of you... my precious Humanity~."

Name: Miko Danvers

Alias: Yandere, The Seven's Sister, The Second.

Nicknames: "That Crazy Bitch", "The Pink One", "The Girl in the Skirt", "Twin-tailed Terror", "Her".

Age: 16 (physically) (true mental age unclear; given her vast skillset, assumed 20's)

Gender: Female

Personality:
Cheerful and peppy on the surface, she is nonetheless equally capable of becoming psychotic and murderous on a dime and is incredibly unstable and overconfident. Despite any evidence to the contrary, Yandere is under the impression that she is acting to save the world and seems to believe that she can avert some unnamed "apocalypse", which she has failed at multiple times. Assuming her claims about her power are correct, this, understandably so, would be the primary reason she is batshit insane.

Despite this, under the vast majority of circumstances, Yandere is incredibly well composed and controlled in her mannerisms. If she's acting eccentric, that's usually because it's what she wants others to see. She often wears a gleeful smile, a smile that tends to stretch to psychotic levels once the adrenaline hits and battle is joined. It is rare indeed that Yandere ever truly takes her opposition seriously. After all, with her power, why should she? Even when seriously injured or seemingly inconvenienced, all she will do is smile and smirk, even offering a peppy mocking congratulation or two. She is quick to dole out almost genuine sounding praise to her opposition, but anyone with any conception of her power can be well aware it's likely not anything she's not seen before and clearly overcome.

Under no circumstances has Yandere ever shown a single iota of genuine fear or distress that has been witnessed past the infamous day of her Trigger Event. Though, she will sometimes feign such with her opponents to lull them into a false sense of security. Truly, given her physical limitations, it is all too easy for others to underestimate her, especially first-time opposition. She is a crafty schemer at heart, always poking and prodding at her opponents verbally, teasing out their mindsets to determine if they are worth keeping around for the "Grand Plan" and the betterment of humanity as a whole. Even while she's having a rip-roaring good time messing around with her enemies, she's also scouting them as allies in her quest. If they pass, she's more than willing to throw down the hatchet to try and bring them into the fold, and with her ability to effectively wholly analyze the psyches of others through trial and error, to an outsider, she may appear to say exactly the right things at the right time to make her case seem all too reasonable.

Regardless of her methods or seeming amorality, Yandere desires to save humanity above all things. To her, it is her one true calling in life, and no sacrifice is too great in the service of that goal. Her only worry, one she has pushed to the backburner for the time being, is what she's going to do with herself once she succeeds. What will she do after? What burnt bridges will she need to rebuild? Once she's done the deed, what is left for her? What kind of proper profession would she like to undertake? And once she reaches the end of her life, can she even die of old age, or will she be forced to redo things all over again?

Existential concerns aside, some part of her hopes that she'll make some genuine friends along the way and actually have comrades and loved ones at the end of things. While saving the world certainly takes priority for understandable reasons, she'd also like to have a boy-or girl-friend to settle down with. Honestly, at this point, she's not super picky either way; it's just a little difficult to get people to take your advances seriously when you're an infamous serial killer. She'd like something genuine, but maybe that's asking a lot...

Sigh. "Ah well, here I go a killing again~!"

Appearance: 
Civilian: A 5'6", 140 lb. raven-haired half-Japanese-Caucasian teenage girl with blue eyes, she is someone who has been thoroughly smacked with the puberty stick in... certain areas (cough) She is athletic beneath her oft deceptively covering wear, despite appearing almost as delicate as she is busty, and wears her hair in single ponytail. Even in this state, she tends to favor bright, cheerful colors, and she has enough taste to avoid being garish about them. Though, dark tops with light bottoms also appeal to her. Skirts are an unironic staple of her wardrobe, along with a variety of snug, form-fitting sweater shirts, sometimes turtle-necked. She usually has at least a few knives concealed somewhere on her person.

Cape: In all reality, her civilian guise is donned with incredible rarity. Most of the time, she boldly goes where she pleases with her hair dyed a bold pink and pulled up into a pair of ponytails with bowed ribbons. Aside from that, she typically wears a now ominously distinct white and blue Japanese schoolgirl outfit. On first glance, it would be assumed to be a cosplay, if not for the fact that Yandere has taken a known trip across the sea before to obtain it by questionable means. Certainly, if nothing else, she can't be said to half-ass her image. In addition, she dons an intimidating number of knives, both throwing and not, beneath her skirt strapped to her upper thighs, and she can usually be seen with a book bag slung over one shoulder and sometimes a fanny pack hanging from the back of her waist, the latter usually only in the case she seems to be expecting a fight. The fanny back is usually holding some handy odds or ends that just conveniently aid her situation as if she were fucking Dora the Explorer.

While her power and infamy amongst government agencies means having an actual secret identity is generally a pipe dream, Yandere occasionally will whip out the makeup and some spare clothes and have an actual peaceful night out on the town. A casual drink with another here, a playful movie there. If she wants to disappear into a crowd, she has the means and the knowledge to make it happen, even while under intense scrutiny.

Biography:
Our story begins 30 years past. It was the early 1990's, and the chaos of the emergence of the Parahuman phenomenon had roughly settled down. After 70 years of lessons learned quickly and harshly, some level of true order had been restored to the world. Though villains had crawled forth from every crevice, heroes had risen to meet them, and the world, in turn, rose to support those heroes in whatever way they may.

The world had recovered, and though not all was well, things were improving. Until one day...
Long story short, when a twenty foot silvery titan oozes out onto the beach of Katsuru, well....How are you supposed to respond to that? Locals didn't really know what to make of it, so, foolish as it was, they approached the strange entity, watching with awe as it strode onto land, like a God amongst mortals.

Of course, the panicking began when, without even sparing a glance, spears of that almost mercury-esque substance jutted from its body, ending the lives of most of the onlookers in the span of a second. They ran, but it was far too late; with seemingly no attention to the act, what were once spires of death formed into liquid tendrils, hunting down the fleeing prey and splattering them across the earth in brutal fashion. All the while, it kept walking. 

When Japan's Capes began to enter the scene, they soon realized how bad the situation was; this was not the villains of old, who they could play cat and mouse with, always pushing and pulling, but never so far to escalate the situation. No, this was a monster of Greek proportions, an abomination with no thoughts towards such base things as morality. But even when they stopped pulling punches, they found themselves outmatched. Each time it was crushed, splattered, melted or frozen, it simply formed back together, an unkillable slime that seemed to become all the more unbeatable with each failed attempt.

Cleaving through any signs of humans it came across, the thing that soon was dubbed 'Progeny' made its way into central Japan with no remorse; civilians were told to flee, but escaping this monstrosity was impossible. It moved with a disturbing fluidity. Not 'fast' in the superhuman terms, but so disgustingly mobile that nothing could stop it, even slipping through the thinnest cracks to emerge where it desired. It was inevitable that you were found by it, barring rescue from Capes...Who were likely bound to die in the process. This rampage pushed on, with the creature never stopping to eat, drink, or rest, hours of travel time spent either moving or killing. 

When it reached Tokyo, no one was ready.

The Capes there, heroes and villains, desperate to stop the demon, banded together, unofficially becoming the first example of The Herald Accords. However, Japan had never been well known for their impressive Capes, and none were capable of stopping this menace....That is, until, four distinct portals opened in the sky, though after the creature had already obtained ample time to eviscerate the population and Capes alike.

Dropping in, prior to them ever becoming The Guardians, were Guardian himself, Amazon, Gatecrasher, and a late and great member of their team, Shockwave, whose ability was to unleash ungodly amounts of electricity in waves; thanks to help from a Tinker friend, they'd found ways to focus the ability, turning him into an extraordinarily strong Blaster/Shaker. 

With these four, Progeny, while not killed, was pushed back long enough to force a retreat from the enigmatic creature; Japan was in ruins, certainly, with the body count having reached millions, not even mentioning the Capes that littered the streets of Tokyo, but they had stopped it.

After this, the PRT officially created The Guardians, with the four who stopped Progeny being the founding members.

That terrible day was the first Herald attack, or as it has been commemorated in Japan, Red Day; a grim reference to the streets, running red with the approach of the goliath entity... The devastation left in its wake slew millions and left the entire nation shell-shocked and battle scarred, reduced to a 2nd world country. Though the infrastructure of the island nation wasn't completely ruined, they had been completely unprepared for an attack of such scale, and with their already low birthrate, even 30 years later, their population hadn't bounced back.

It was into this devastated nation that Maki Fuma was born. She grew up in a nation struggling economically and nationally, and she had no desire to stick around. Far from one to allow herself to be shackled be tradition or nationalism, she fled to the United States at the first available opportunity and came to settle down in the State of Oklahoma. Having come from a struggling country, Maki knew of hard word, and in the far more prosperous America, that served her well. She got a job, went to school, went to college, graduated with honors and married well, taking up her husband's surname of Danvers. The life she led couldn't have been called more than upper middle class, but it was hers and one she was content with. And soon enough, she was having her first child, a bright young girl named Miko.

As she grew, Miko came to internalize her mother's standards of hard work and determination. She learned to value the will to push through all obstacles, to never stop even if one stumbled. She learned of her mother's old home and came to enjoy indulging in their media and culture, even as she never took what she already had now for granted. She was a cheerful soul, who made friends easily and scored well enough to make her classmates wonder about the memes of Japanese grades. Her life was good, peaceful, aside from the occasional inevitable Cape shenanigans; though she was never unlucky enough to be nearby or collateral.

And then Gaia attacked.
Mother Nature.

The Moving Mountain.

The Terror of Heaven and Earth.

As it emerged, 14-year-old Miko had been at school, and the alarms sounded all too late. Gaia began its grim chore, drawing up the land towards itself, swallowing and compressing all that was natural and manmade alike into its personal armor. And being inside her school, Miko was swept up inexorably in the tide. Even as she struggled to stay atop the flow of crumbling structures and earth, all around her friends, teachers, strangers and other civilians alike were crushed and ground up. In the chaos of it all, in the face of her innocent horror and a dire need, she Triggered.

Unfortunate timing that.

In losing consciousness in her precarious position, she was swept into the tide proper, no longer able to escape the flow, as she was drawn towards the behemoth titan... and painfully crushed against it... only to awake within the flow. Panicked and confused, she was drawn in again and crushed all the same... and returned once more. Even as the world around her went mad in the face of a great and terrible storm's manifestation, a horrible pattern began to emerge. Soon enough, this bizarrely reoccurring event become her personal death loop, constantly being ground up, crushed, compressed, entombed, suffocated, drowned, sliced and diced, sandpapered, and just generally reduced to a fine bloody mushy smear in a variety of ways so almost distinct that if one didn't know better, they'd think the Herald was somehow experimenting to see if any would stick.

At first, her power didn't go very far back and didn't include the combat reflexes and muscle control needed to get out with so little breathing room, but after dozens, even hundreds of resets, where Miko went from begging for help to begging to be saved, to begging for a hero, to begging for mercy, for it to stop, for her to just be allowed to die, to not even bothering to beg at all and simply screeching incoherently. By the time she Second Triggered, she was out of her mind with panic, and she was soon running on pure power-fueled instinct, which even then, was barely enough given how far in she'd already been dragged.

Finally, she escaped from the pull, only to be met with a vicious storm of truly unholy proportions. More mad than not, Miko in the face of these new factors died again... and awoke under the crush once more. For the true horror of Miko's own power became clear. At this time, she did not know how to reset herself, and her power would always default to resetting her backwards as far as it could manage upon death/forced reset. And because her power could not take her further back than her Trigger, even a single mistake, a single slip-up, would see her plunged right back into the beginning of the nightmare.

For a while, her fresh panic at the revelation of the brand new level of her personal nightmare, genuinely broke the girl entirely, leaving her a shell resigned to a small eternity of resets, her body continuing to act half-heartedly to escape, relying entirely on her power's muscle memory to progress in the face of the girl's mind checking out. And yet, without her guiding principle, it could not manage to quite make it further, for where could it go once instinct ran dry? And so it went. A hundred resets. Two hundred. Five hundred. A thousand. But what could a young girl's mind do in the face of such reckless, targeted malice? Her power had already Second Triggered in desperation; it had nothing left to give. What happened next would be upon her shoulders.

And so it came to be that, eventually, perhaps inevitably, Miko's mind simply registered pain... differently. One might even say not at all. After countless deaths, it had become just another sensation, and while the girl was shattered, in the face of this, she began to pull some of the pieces back together. A spark of hope, a rekindled animalistic drive to survive. Whatever one wanted to call it, it was a fire that she clung too with everything she had left, a bonfire of determination and spite, a drive to escape.

And once the mind behind the power was back in the saddle somewhat, so the escape attempts redoubled in full. The number of deaths did not lesson. No, not by a long shot. But now, actual progress was made, even if it was horrifically glacial, even literally one step at a time in places, the journey so foul and lethal that even the slightest deviation meant to be smote beneath the Herald's renewed attention. Even despite all that, the girl pressed onward with a drive even she didn't understand.

Little did she know, however, but her cries for help had actually been heard by a Japanese hero, who'd come from overseas to aid in the fight. It was unfortunate, truly. Under nigh any other circumstance, such a person would have been her hero and lead the girl to a better life. Unfortunately for both, the girl had the personal attention of the Herald, and someone like this hero was merely in the way. If even a single deviation, a single mistake would cost her, would reset her, then she could not allow her path to be impeded or deviated by any outside element.

And so it was, with barely even conscious recognition of her actions, the girl's body killed the hero a few resets later, a single knife-hand to the windpipe, crushing the good Samaratan's life beneath the weight of her drive to live. Though she was witnessed doing such, though her actions provoked rage and betrayed hate from the other defenders, the Herald's focus upon her rent such collateral damage about her person that none were able to waylay her rightly, more concerned with the battle at hand.

Eventually, inevitably, the Herald was delayed, faltered, long enough -if just barely- for the girl to escape its gaze and make her mad flight, as far and as fast as she could manage, stopping for nothing till she had left the city entirely.

It would be in the days, weeks and months to come, as she recovered herself, realized what she'd done, and fled from the hostilities of nearly everyone around her, that the girl would come to take up wearing an outfit reminiscent of the hero she had unwittingly slain and a reminder of all else she and her family had lost. She knew from the quivering in her heart that she would never be able to stomach returning to that day, that she would never be able to save or spare that hero, to undo the hate for herself. She knew that, knew that she'd live with it forever, for better or worse. And so, if only though her outfit, she'd honor their sacrifice in her own way.

In the aftermath, her home and family were gone, razed to the ground and crushed, the city flattened beneath the Herald's wrath. With nowhere to go and no-one to turn to, the young madwoman did what she could to discover a new purpose in life. And though it took years, years of resets and mishaps, deaths and hardships, she soon encountered it. A horror. An apocalypse in truth. What she saw in the grim-dark future of Earth Bet, she could not overcome. They were not ready... not as they were, not while weakened by the countless interpersonal wars and grudges of man, not while Heroes and Villains alike played their games, not while the Heralds were left to their own devices to further upend mankind's support structure.

Miko looked upon it all and came to know that she loved humanity more than anything else. Even if they hated her. Even if they killed her over and over. Even if they drove her out and rejected her, she wanted more for them all the same, wanted better for the world. It had taken her all too long, but even her ordeal under Gaia had not destroyed her mind and soul entirely. No, though she was reluctant to ever face the mountain again, much less a Herald at all, her will had been hardened under the pressures of life into a shining diamond of determination. She had become -if not whole- then something more than a pile of shattered glass and psychotic edges. To return was to lose everything. To stay was to lose everything. At least with the former, they would have a chance.

And so, saying farewell to what few loved ones she had, she reset. And reset. And reset. And reset. And reset again. And again...

Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.

And when she finally stopped?

She was back, the wrath of Gaia fading in the distance, her home crumbling all over again like a returning nightmare.

But she turned away from the past... and faced the future with a steeled spine and a mad glint in her eyes.

Something was coming. Something humanity wasn't ready for.

But maybe she could change that...

No matter the cost...

She had to.
Despite her general demeanor, her goals seem righteous-ish enough, so one might have boggled at the very idea of even someone as mad as her joining Writhe and the Seven, unrepentantly vile and murderous monsters in human-ish form. And under normal circumstances, they'd be right to be confused.

Only, Miko -or rather, Yandere- was never one to constrain herself to a single set of options. On the surface, the Seven were a dead end, both strategically and to her own reputation. Well, if her power wasn't what it was. Being that it is what it is, she sees no issue with pursuing even this most depraved of timelines. After all, if it goes to wrong? She can just scrap it.

To be honest, she encountered Writhe by chance more than anything else. She'd not had any plans for her current timeline, but when she got into town and was met with Writhe doing his thing? Well, she was never one to balk at an opportunity. Maybe her standards had been a little higher before, but after her latest round of failures, the urge to seek success in more... niche and controversial areas had arisen within her. And coming face-to-face with the head-honcho of the Seven himself? Well, she just couldn't resist.

Apparently, the feeling was somewhat mutual, though an outsider might be hard-pressed to discern it. For all that Writhe was only content to engage in conversation with her in the midst of visiting hilarious amounts of attempted ultraviolence upon her person, the two managed to have a bizarrely philosophical discussion, and -after a period that was by far longer for Yandere than Writhe- they came to something of an accord, a pact of... relative nonviolence. While it was clear to both that the other was firmly -even psychotically- set in their ways, the urge to see if they were up to the challenge compelled both to join hands in alliance... for the time being.

To Yandere, the monster, Writhe, was an opportunity.

With his power draining, he could be either the nexus upon which she could build a savior of humanity... or a nexus by which all defense and hope would be torn to pieces. She was honestly as interested in picking at his mindset as he was at hers, to see if she can tease out a "redemption" similar to what she underwent in her first full "run" of life. If not, then she sees little wrong with hanging around and finding a way to kill him. Ultimately, she sees him mostly as more trouble than he's worth, so between the options, she'd favor finding a definitive way to end him over managing his entire universe of issues long-term.

At minimum, however, one of her primary goals, in service of humanity, is to protect any people she believes could help. Essentially, she goes around doing her "part" in the Seven by killing people she has determined are problems while sparing assets. She even goes to the trouble of utilizing her "Yandere" persona to choose people she wants to "date" to keep the other Seven off their backs for the most part. Basically claiming them as "hers" to do with as she pleases.

Yandere's "tests" as a member of the Seven tend to be similar and yet inverted to Writhe's. While Writhe actively wants to break people in a complete way, Yandere wants others to show her their strength instead and show their determination. She wants them to rise to the challenge, to prove themselves to be the defenders and saviors humanity will need. Yandere seeks to actively foster the conditions from which heroes shall be tempered and rise stronger and more sure in their convictions than ever before. Of course, this is not to say that her means of doing so can't be cruel and unusual. As she was someone once broken down in every way that matters who rebuilt themselves from the ashes, Yandere's standards for what is "reasonable pressure" tend to be a tad skewed.

Powers/Skills:

Athleticism: Her limits are constrained primarily by her physical ability as a base human. As such, it has served Yandere well where possible to keep up a strict training regimen to push what limits she can. Her manual control of her body means, however, that she can override her muscles' natural limiters and briefly perform shocking feats of ability... at the cost of damage to herself, of course. But in the right circumstances, the trade-off is worth it.
Insane Pain Tolerance/Willpower: Yandere's pain tolerance can best be described as: "Y E S". Due to her horrific Trigger Event and the many many horrible deaths and injuries she has effectively suffered since and had permanently carved into her memory, she will not so much as flinch in the face of full-throttle torture porn levels of horrific brutality being inflicted upon her. She'll be distinctly annoyed at the inconvenience of the injury itself, sure, but it's just another day at the office.
Martial Arts: Anything Goes: While not a proper practitioner per-say, Yandere has committed a vast quantity of hand-to-hand fighting styles to memory. She is the equivalent of a top-tier black belt even without her power informing her muscle memory, and her combat style is in turns highly unpredictable and playful or brutally efficient... and still unpredictable. Sometimes, if she's feeling cute, she'll even memorize her opponents' attacks during the fight and immediately use them in return, just to mess around.
Polylingual: She can speak nearly every language, and those she can't, she appears to learn the basics of within subjective seconds.
Skilled: If it can be learned by a mundane human, she probably knows the basics at a minimum, and can correct any deficiencies in what appears to be an instant. Medical techniques, piloting, gunfighting, tracking, smithing, hunting, building, cooking, parkour, operating high tech machinery and Tinkertech alike. You name it, she can do it. In the case of Tinkertech, it's quite literally just an effective matter of trial and error for her, before she appears to operate or identify it perfectly as far as anyone else is concerned.
Unreadable: Her absolute control of her body language means that when she genuinely wants to deceive someone, it is literally impossible to see through her down to a hormonal level without a straight up truth/lie-detecting power. Technological lie detectors tend to fare no better than a regular person.
Groundhog Day (Thinker/Shaker(?) 12): Yandere's power, which she openly boasts about, is what she claims to be genuine time travel. While proof one way or the other has naturally yet to be obtained, her power at least effectively mimics as though that were the truth. One way or the other, she is either telling the truth, or she is a Thinker of truly absurd proportions. In practice, until proven otherwise, she will be assumed to be the latter for everyone's peace of mind.

Her claim is that anytime she dies -or even anytime she wants, she is thrust back in time up to a full day... and she can keep going with no cap other than the day of her Trigger Event. Her power also gives her perfect recall and muscle memory. What this translates to is that she can retread the exact steps of any and every encounter, retrying any and every hardship or failure until she wins. In essence, she is a monstrously powerful combat Thinker and Precognitive who is always living in the "winning" timeline.

As a result of her perfect recall and muscle memory/control, Yandere is capable of learning nearly any skill or piece of information in what appears to be subjective seconds, even instantaneously. Her effective precognition means she can commit to absolutely insane tactics, before "undoing" the consequences and retaining all the information she has gathered. In effect, there is no system she cannot penetrate, no password she cannot divine, no secret identity too secret or sacred. If she wants to know something, it is literally impossible to stop her from learning it without storing it away off-world/dimension, and even then, you're assumedly only buying time from the inevitable. It can generally be assumed that she will always be aware of the exact limitations and functions of her opponents' powers and be prepared to counter them.

Even were her active powers to be shut down, according to Thinkers, she would retain all the information and skills she has gathered, along with the imbued muscle memory, giving her a comparatively extremely favorable position from which to retreat or otherwise survive until she can regain her power and "undo" the incident.

At present, there are no known methods of evading her power's detection. As her power is proven to be capable of clearly targeting even the Heralds, the vast majority of even highly specialized Strangers are incapable of evading its gaze in turn. Even when she is seemingly otherwise unaware of their location, Yandere has been noted to "fire blindly" and kill or disable potentially troublesome concealed foes without even the slightest amount of notable effort.

She has proven on multiple occasions to be able to accurately predict the location of Herald attacks over a day in advance and narrow down the alternate targets in the case that the original is avoided in response to her prediction. She has also been able to determine the Heralds' specific targets/the purpose of a given attack and the fallout of failing to stop them.
Unrestrainable (Trump/Mover 9): Yandere's power possesses an automatic trigger function, preemptively defending her from any effect that would shut down, weaken or otherwise hinder or negate her access to her power. To be clear, she is not actually immune to said effects like Null Trumps and Masters, but her power effectively ensures she always knows they are coming and allows her to never actually be caught out in a position where they can catch her. This effect triggers against more than just other powers, and it is decisive enough to prevent her from being meaningfully imprisoned, trapped, or disabled by other means, including paralysis or unconsciousness. In the case of the latter, notably sleeping, her power still triggers automatically if she would be put in a situation thereafter from which she couldn't awaken for an unnatural period of time.

Other: Favorite power sets involve time stopping or manipulation. Though, I'm becoming a big fan of speedsters as well.

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Hidden 3 yrs ago → 3 yrs ago Post by canaryrose

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 "It's V. Like, um, CTRL-V. The keyboard shortcut? Copy and paste?


Name:
Carmen Foster

Alias: 
V

Age: 
13

Gender: 
Female; she/her pronouns

Personality:
Carmen could most aptly be described as a ball of sunshine. She’s a relentless optimist, reacting to most situations with a smile. She’s outgoing and tries her best to make new friends. But, more often than not, she’s not successful, because, well… Carmen is awkward. Her words always seem to come out wrong, twisted. She drives people away with her unending enthusiasm. But Carmen is resilient. Her nerves are easy to ruffle but, otherwise, she maintains her optimistic disposition in the face of everything. Pain, rejection, mocking- she manages to keep a good face on despite it all. 

After all, she only cries in private. 

Carmen is intelligent too. One might even call her a nerd. She’s into everything- from cartoons to stuffed animals to computers. She’d never admit most of her interests to the other Wards, but she can often be seen reading a Percy Jackson novel with a stuffed unicorn in her lap. She earns good grades and is proud of it, almost addicted to the high of it all. 

Appearance: 
Carmen is shorter than average for her age, being 4’9” and not showing any sign of growing beyond that quite yet. She’s small, weighing in at 98 pounds. Her small stature betrays her status as a late-bloomer- something she secretly hopes to overcome soon. 

Moving beyond her small stature, Carmen is of Mexican origin. Her skin is a smooth medium-brown, and her hair is a deep brown, curly and shoulder-length. Her eyes, too, are an ochre brown and they sparkle with secret mischief and hope. 

Biography: 
For as long as Carmen can remember, it’s just been her and her mom. Valerie Foster had her first and only daughter young. Carmen’s father had never been in her life. It isn’t something she angsts over. In fact, she prefers not to know a man who was shitty enough to never want to speak to his own daughter. For the first few years of Carmen’s life, her mom and her hopped around from apartment to apartment, her mom from job to job. That was before her mom found her calling as a cop though. Now, they live in Redline in a mid-level suburb. Carmen doesn’t remember the before much, but she knows life is good. 

Valerie Foster raised her daughter to be tough. She doesn’t take people’s shit and doesn’t get into trouble. And if she did… well. Valerie is a disciplinarian, a tough-love sort of woman. But that’s not to say they aren’t close. Carmen loves her mother and her mother loves her back. Carmen is the center of her mother’s world. 

When she got to middle school though, things started…changing. It was unsettling. Mom got a new boyfriend, who was nice enough but threatened the dynamic. And kids turned mean. The world turned mean. Carmen was tough as always, but sometimes there are problems you can’t fix. And this was one of them. Things piled up. And one day, she exploded and the solution appeared right in her hands.

Carmen’s trigger wasn’t one she could hide from her mom. Although she wasn’t in the PRT, as a cop, she had all too much experience dealing with Redline’s parahumans. And Valerie had never liked parahumans- always mistrusted them. They were trouble, even the heroes. And to find out her daughter had become one of them? It strained their relationship to the point of breaking, and it still is. Committed to keeping her daughter on the straight and narrow, Valerie found out about the new Wards program through a law enforcement contact and quickly enrolled her daughter without her input. 

Powers: 
(DESIGNATION: Striker 6, Tinker 1)

V’s power allows her to summon any object she has a good understanding of out of thin air. As she would put it, her power comprises two functions: copy and paste. She copies an object by learning how it operates and committing it to memory, and pastes it by summoning it. Her objects do not obey the laws of physics. If destroyed or altered, they’ll simply disappear, and any chemical testing reveals that they’re made of no particular material. Put rather confusingly, she turns raw energy into anything she chooses. Her objects can only be summoned directly into her hands and disappear within one hour.

Her power has a burnout function. Once V creates too many objects within a 12-hour period, she can no longer summon any more. That limit depends on specificity (ie a pink AK-47 that fires bubbles instead of bullets vs a gun), necessity (Epi-Pen while someone is in active anaphylaxis vs a hammer when one is nearby), complexity (a high-tech Tinker gun vs a BB gun), and size (ie a skyscraper vs a piece of string). The rules are all very complicated but V can feel herself running out, akin to a battery. She has to conserve her power carefully.

Skills:
None to speak of. (aka pls god don’t make me do this section)

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Hidden 3 yrs ago → 3 yrs ago Post by Mintz

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Mintz

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[  IDENTITY  ]
Writhe

[  REAL NAME  ]
Unknown

[  POWERS  ]
Umbral Trespassing [Stranger 6/Mover 9/Trump (Brute, Master, Thinker)]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"I'm not going to kid around here. Now, I've faced down my fair share of wicked souls...But Writhe is worse than any of them, and almost none of them would've been called Slaughterhouse material. As the leader of those deviants, Writhe is cunning, cruel, and manipulative; his words are just as dangerous as his actual Powers. Personally? If you run into him....I wouldn't bother trying to fight him. Just get the hell out of there."

[  PROCEDURES/KNOWLEDGE  ]
Currently, Writhe's identity is still an unknown factor that is being investigated into to this day, to no avail. All we can offer here is small advice on how to not die when confronted with him. Firstly, you should know he rarely fights with intent to kill; no, he wants much worse than that. Use that to your advantage, and be a coward. Some of the greatest heroes of our time have fought Writhe head-on and made little to no headway, so it is unlikely you would either. You are far better off trying to make distance from him and fleeing the scene. If combat is necessary...

While not quite a Brute, he is abnormally strong, and it is not recommended to engage him in hand-to-hand due to his unique physiology. Keep an eye on stray shadows in the vicinity; each and every one of them is a potential weapon or escape route for Writhe. If you have the misfortune of being confronted during the night, treat everywhere as a space that could be threatened by him. Because it is, and it will be. Lastly, do not fight him for any extended period of time; he will slowly siphon off your Power and life, and leave you too weak to resist. This is the worst case scenario. We at PRT do not put this lightly, but if this occurs...We recommend you find a way to end your life prior to whatever he or The Seven have in store for you, for your own sake.

[  IDENTITY  ]
Tearaway

[  REAL NAME  ]
Matthias Freeman

[  POWERS  ]
Man-Made Creation Manipulation [Shaker 7]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"Yeah, I know what you're thinking; 'what the hell is 'man-made creation manipulation'? Understandable. In layman's terms, Tearaway had powerful telekinetic abilities that functioned on a macro and micro scale, but with the tight restriction of only being usable on things we've made. Which is a lot, in most cities; buildings, roads, cars...The list goes on. And when he can weaponize a whole city against someone, he's more than threatening enough. His only weakness was his slightly poor range...That, and getting crushed to death by Amazon."

[  PROCEDURES/KNOWLEDGE  ]
Matthias Freeman was born and raised in Redline, Maine, to a single father who worked in construction. His life was bereft of much note until an incident where a teenage Matthias, hanging out around a construction site waiting for his father's day to end, was caught up in a terrifying earthquake. Under extreme stress, and his life on the line when a pile of steel girders threatened to crush him, he Triggered, stopping them with a quivering raised hand. 

Unfortunately, he had been seen by all those at the construction site...And even more unfortunately, in spite of this miraculous awakening, his father had not survived this incident. Left with nothing, and no way to keep his new talent secret, the young man turned to crime with his newfound Power...And found it exhilarating. For a time, at least. As he grew older, he recognized his spats with hero Capes as they were; little more than games, both sides dancing around the truth of the matter. They weren't trying. He was growing bored of his life, finding a newfound eagerness to truly find out what he was capable of.

Then he was found by Writhe. 

The rest, as they say, was history. As one of the first members of The Seven, he, along with five others (including their leader, Writhe), wreaked havoc on Redline before fleeing for a new target. This first Slaughterhouse, however, was short-lived; barely a year into their run, Tearaway's luck ended alongside many other of the OG Slaughterhouse members when The Guardians got involved in their games in Charlestown, Rhode Island. He found out the hard way what it would mean when both side stopped pulling punches; Amazon, in a brutal display of Brute strength, pummeled right through his defenses made of roads and buildings, and splattered him across the upended streets, giving a grisly end to the man who wanted to test his limits. 

Powers-wise, the Director explained it best. A highly potent telekinetic who had both large-scale and fine-tuned control over the very specific, yet quite broad, descriptor of 'man-made creations'. His major weakness was a lack of proper range on his ability, but this wasn't necessary to exploit for one as strong as Amazon.

[  IDENTITY  ]
Crackle

[  REAL NAME  ]
Andrian Volkov

[  POWERS  ]
Strength/Regen Package & Pyrokinetic/Electrokinetic Fists [Brute 7/Striker 7]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"You know, as far as members of The Slaughterhouse go, I think ol' Volkov here might've been the dumbest there was....Next to literal children and a fungus monster. Still, just because he wasn't the brightest doesn't mean he wasn't threatening. His raw strength was highly dangerous to pretty much anyone not named Guardian or Amazon, and that's before you factor in his weird Striker gimmick; things he hits with his left hand became ignited in flames, or electrocuted by his right. I honestly feel worse for the Capes who did manage to take those hits....Poor Hercules never looked quite the same. Didn't help that he could regenerate like a motherfucker, and the fact that, while his regenerative Power could be run dry, the closer it got to that point, the worse his Striker Power became. While it never got bad enough, for a time, we speculated he could've been the first Striker to hit - and breach - the 10 mark on the Scale. Point is, guy could've been a huge problem...If he wasn't an idiot. Heh, can't believe he died like that..."

[  PROCEDURES/KNOWLEDGE  ]
Andrian Volkov was a refugee of Gaia's Awakening on December 15th, 1998, which cracked apart the land once known as Russia into multiple distinct chunks set adrift across the Artic Ocean. Prior to that, he was an infamous super-criminal, known for his cruel methods in dealing with insubordination and ruthlessness in battle; he'd never crossed that unspoken line, but he loved drawing close to it. But something about that man had changed after Gaia, and his arrival to Alaska. There, he kept isolated in bitter rage, craving the day he could unleash his fury on the Earth Goddess again. He was a man who had lost everything.

And then Writhe found him.

It was easy to tilt his rage off-course; why bother with Gaia herself, who might not emerge for years after what had occurred, where there were perfectly good, foolish heroes and villains who had failed the Motherland in some form or fashion? Andrian took the words of this specter to heart, and joined The Six. Now known as Crackle, he was one of the integral pieces of the group that allowed them to engage in such brash head-on battles amidst some more vile games, easily outmaneuvering, overpowering, and incinerating enemy frontliners. A force to be reckoned with. For him, all those who died at his hands were a warm-up to when Gaia would emerge once more.

Thus, he recklessly thought it good fortune he found the opportunity to fight Guardian himself at Rhode Island; the Unstoppable Fist versus the Immovable Shield! If he could fell the legendary Guardian, then it proved he was ready for The Mountain's return! Unfortunately for him, things did not end that way. While he was an excellent combatant, his strategics in the long-term were...Poor. When he was met with forcefields, he reacted with brute force. Useless. Eventually, Guardian, having accepted the fact that this man would never surrender and would continue his dark road, entrapped him in a force field, intending to have him brought to the infamous Birdcage...

What he couldn't anticipate was Crackle accidentally igniting the interior of the force field, effectively trapping himself in an inescapable furnace. While Guardian couldn't bear to watch....He also knew he couldn't drop the field. Thus, slowly, agonizingly burning away through his regeneration, he met his fate there, turned to a charred corpse before Guardian himself.

[  IDENTITY  ]
Mask

[  REAL NAME  ]
Unknown

[  POWERS  ]
Master of Disguise [Stranger 5/Thinker 1/Striker 4-10]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"Mask was...Strange, as far as Strangers go, and yes, I'm aware how ridiculous that sounds. She wasn't necessarily very superhuman...Or Parahuman, if you prefer. Whatever it was, it gave her a disgustingly good knack for disguising herself, a minor Thinker ability to mimic voices she had heard before to near-perfection, and an equally strange Striker perk; the longer she went undiscovered or unnoticed, the stronger her next attack would be by leaps and bounds. We'd seen her kill Brutes, given enough time. Nothing could stop her short of being found out or gunned down. Luckily...We did the latter."

[  PROCEDURES/KNOWLEDGE  ]
Mask's identify even after death went unconfirmed; they had undergone severe levels of surgery to remove any trace of who they may have been, down to the fingerprints, and blood samples went unmatched. So as it stands, we know very little of the individual prior to them joining the Slaughterhouse Six.

We can safely confirm that, given she was a complete non-entity to the PRT, Writhe himself was unaware of the individual, implying they tracked him down instead to join his mission. The first case of Parahumans strangely seeming to 'flock' to Writhe, for lack of better term. Due to the nature of her work, we are left with very little to say on regards to her. 

Her Power has been explained already, so instead, we will go over how she was brought down. Her goal in most sightings of The Six had been to infiltrate PRT Squads, sowing dissent before eventually striking, killing entire squads before they knew what hit them. Even with Strange protocols in effect, she had managed to evade any capture prior to the Rhode Island Slaughter. While we knew her methods, we were powerless to prevent them, with our Thinkers being too valuable to field on the off-chance Mask could gain the upper hand over them. Thus, it is by sheer luck - and brutality - that she was stopped. One Officer Reed Karnath, upon being one of the few members remaining after she had begun to pick them off, unleashed lethal fire haphazardly amongst the rest of his team, killing the rest of the squadron alongside the Slaughterhouse Spy. At least....We can only hope it was her, given that from that day forward, no record of Mask, either among The Six or otherwise, was ever made.

[  IDENTITY  ]
Decay

[  REAL NAME  ]
Christopher Parkins

[  POWERS  ]
Disintegration Aura [Shaker 10]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"So, I think we're all familiar with the Manton Effect; keeps people from using their powers directly on people, or sometimes it's the opposite, only able to use their powers on people, living things, etc...I'm generalizing. Point is, it's a good thing. Keeps abilities in checks, for whatever the reason might be. The problem is when someone breaks it. You get fuckers like Decay. Can't say for sure what happened to the kid; he was barely sixteen when he was apart of The Slaughterhouse Six. Regardless, it must've been some serious shit, because his Power decided that the only thing worth protecting was him. Thus, you get an area of effect around the kid that eats away at everything around him from the inside out, barring himself and the damn ground he's standing on. People, plants, animals, concrete, steel....None of that meant shit. They were all as good as dust in that aura. The fact we managed to put him down was no small feat...."

[  PROCEDURES/KNOWLEDGE  ]
While we identified him as Christopher Parkins, a youth who lived in Worcester, Massachusetts about a year prior to appearing as Decay when he leveled most of his hometown, little else is known about the boy. After whatever strange incident prompted his Power, he traveled across Massachusetts, barely able to keep himself alive. It seemed as if he didn't know how to turn his own Power off; a walking sphere of eradication crossing the land, unable to eat or drink. We did our best to keep tabs on him without showing ourselves, given the youth was in a clearly unstable state and liable to be resistant to aid.

....It was highly regrettable when, one night, Writhe appeared and simply left with the boy.

The next time Decay appeared, he was a member of The Six; a quiet one, but with supreme loyalty to Writhe, perhaps because he had somehow helped the boy grasp his Power, now able to turn it off and on. Regardless, the destruction he wrought was intense, and engaging him was an impossibility. Our brightest Tinkers were clueless on answers, and our Movers weren't fast enough to kill him before they would likely be turned to dust. But in Charlestown, Rhode Island, Gatecrasher stepped up.

His superior mobility put him far out of any risk Decay could pose, and he was able to evacuate citizens without issue. He also managed to kill Decay, creating a cluster of collapsing portals to go off in the boy's face, too fast for his decay to destroy in time; in the end, his body was ripped asunder, and his Power ended. A brutal end, one that still likely hangs on Gatecrasher, but a necessary one.

[  IDENTITY  ]
Frostbite (originally Ice Queen)

[  REAL NAME  ]
Natalia Porter

[  POWERS  ]
Heat-Sapping Ice Projectiles [Blaster 6 (Shaker)]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"Frostbite's a case all of us here in the PRT still have regrets over. None of us ever knew the specifics beyond her close confidant, the hero known as Hephaestus, who arranged for The Elementals to become a team after The Six were first ended. Whatever the case, Natalia used to be a hero. Ice Queen. A damn good one, if I say so myself. While I can't speak for her psyche, it just...Didn't line up. I can't puzzle together why she joined Slaughterhouse, and I guess I never will. Still a damn shame....Least her kid's fightin' the good fight. Or was, until the new set of Guardians popped up..."

[  PROCEDURES/KNOWLEDGE  ]
Frostbite, otherwise known as Ice Queen, or in her plainclothes identity, Natalia Porter, used to be a heroine in Redline, Maine, beloved both from a hero perspective and as a person. Which made it all the stranger when she took sides with The Six, for reasons still undisclosed. The hero Hephaestus seems to know something, but has vehemently refused to ever comment on it.

Regardless of the exact situation, she brought a concerning amount of focused firepower to their arsenal. While only able to produce a handful of projectiles at a time, Ice Queen was well-practiced; deadly accurate, and quick to act. Her icicles, for lack of better term, moved fast and could pierce into solid steel with relative ease, not even mentioning the fact that they sapped heat from anything they struck, giving her an edge of lethality she had never practiced in her time as a heroine. Her end was a tragedy more than all the rest.

In the Rhode Island Slaughter, Hephaestus insisted on participating while Frostbite was present, and faced her head-on. He kept her busy long enough for Deadshot, a long-range Blaster who forms energy-based ammunition for firearms, landed a single shot. It was all he needed. After that, in spite of the ongoing battle, Hephaestus solemnly left the scene, later going on to form The Elementals, seemingly by Ice Queen's wishes, and also taking care of her now orphaned son, Kane Porter, who later became Glacier of The Elementals.


[  IDENTITY  ]
Plaguespreader

[  REAL NAME  ]
Bertram Ahlgrim

[  POWERS  ]
Chemical Warfare [Tinker 8 (Shaker/Brute/Trump/Master)]

[  DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS  ]
"This isn't your grandma's World War chemical warfare; no. When you get a Tinker whose got almost nothing left to lose, with a talent as broad as 'weaponized chemicals', you get a lot of crazy shit. Plaguespreader's made Power-nullifying toxins, mass-kill plagues, incendiary clouds, hell, he made a gas that induced temporary trance-like states onto those who inhaled it; instantly suggestible, just as good as being brainwashed...For a few minutes. This was only scratching the surface of what he could do. Sky was the limit with him, and Writhe wanted to see him fly..."

[  PROCEDURES/KNOWLEDGE  ]
Bertram Ahlgrim, AKA Plaguespreader, alongside fellow Six member Aimiliona Baumann, AKA Seer, were both from the German city of Stuttgart. Sadly, around their time period of the early 90s to early 2000s the city was under a dark rule; a powerful Master named Warmaster had laid claim to the whole city, declaring it his 'nest of war'. With his Power, he could incite people to rage, giving them increased strength and durability at the cost of their state of mind, turning them into rabid berserkers who would only heed his word. Doing this to a notable number of the people of Stuttgart, he allowed them to rampage, wishing to see truly great warriors rise in the face of the adversity, believing himself some sort of sick herald. Perhaps with a capital H.

The exactness of their lives is not known to us, but we believe the situation of their city placed them in the right state of mind to cause their extreme Tinker Triggers. Bertram was the more aggressive of the two, so while Aimilia developed defensively, huddling away while her mechanized minions did what they must, he found his tools of the trade to be more violent and vile in nature, though not in the way one would expect. Bertram understood that 'traditional' weapons were not where power lied. No. To strike true and kill without remorse, you needed to be able to target them beyond the exterior. Reach within....

April 6th, 2003. An unknown, presumably Tinker-made explosive is detonated in the city square of Stuttgart. The exact compounds are unknown, but a gas similar to mustard gas was released in massive quantities, spanning the city. Within minutes, severe blisters and rashes began manifesting across those infected. Eyesight was lost among these minutes, and many showcased signs of fever, nausea, bloody noses, vomiting, and severe shortness of breath. Many innocents died, but the Berserkers suffered worst; driven mad already, they gave no thought to tearing themselves apart from the vile itching sensations they could feel across their entire bodies, effectively rended to death by their own two hands. Warmaster himself, crippled and helpless, couldn't defend himself when a small troop of spindly, human-like drones approached and tore him limb from limb without mercy.

It didn't take Writhe long to find the two of them, after what they had done.

Ultimately, they knew they had nowhere to run; regardless of the crimes Warmaster visited on them, they both understood that the other Capes wouldn't care. They were the monsters. But they were monsters that survived. With Writhe's help, they would continue to survive.

Between Plaguespreader, Seer, and The Hidden, this version of the Slaughterhouse was prone to extreme acts of guerilla warfare; able to stay out of sight to an aggravating degree, and performing their foul acts through the use of the drones and the many toxins they carried with them, it took the PRT nearly a decade to officially end off this era of The Six. Ironically, their final defeat took place in Redline; the origin of their sinister squadron. Still, the Tinker Age of the Slaughterhouse Six lives on in infamy to this day.

Plaguespreader and Seer have an...Interesting situation in the modern day. When Bertram was finally bereft of weapons and at the mercy of the Capes in Redline, he revealed his ultimate weapon; a Dead Man's Switch, of which both he and Aimiliona share. Small drones surgically implanted into them, atop their still-beating hearts. If it were to stop beating, their threatened contingencies would be put into place. Across the globe, armies of drones armed with the worst things Bertram could imagine would emerge and wreak unprecedented havoc. The drones were also rigged so that if they were interfered with in any fashion, they would also go off. Thus, Plaguespreader gave the Capes an ultimatum.

He, and by proxy Seer, would submit to their defeat and be taken into whatever custody they deemed necessary. The only request? That they stay together, no matter what. Thus, even to this very day, both Plaguespreader and Seer are being kept in a small, remote section of the infamous Birdcage, never to be trifled with by anyone or anything ever again; alone together forever....For now.

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Hidden 3 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by Akayaofthemoon

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Akayaofthemoon

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"I haven’t been everywhere, but it’s on my list."

Alias
Gress

Nicknames
Lia, Allie, Sunflower

Age
17

Gender
Female

Personality

Aaliyah is a bit of a perfectionist, always wanting things to be a certain way and being able to control her own world so to speak. She can be stubborn, headstrong, and extremely determined in some situations and for the times she isn’t, well, it would be hard for most to tell when those times are without being closer to her to see through the mask. The reason being that she just grins through the pain be it physical or emotional and tries to keep up a front. It is mostly because she deeply cares for others around her and would rather they not worry. She is kind, compassionate, and polite to everyone she meets. She will always try to be the first one to think positively or look for a better solution to a problem. Deep down, she is still exploring more of who she is and finding herself. She was never allowed to fully be who she was, always trying to live up to others' idea of how she should act so now she wants to just be her even if that ends up being problematic. 

Appearance

Massive amounts of curly chocolate colored hair falls just to the base of her shoulders when it isn’t puffing itself into a natural afro, brushing up against the caramel skin of her cheeks and framing her jawline. The gentle features of her face show a pair of doe-like eyes that are almost obsidian in color with how dark brown they are, a petite nose, and full rosy lips that usually are curved into a smile or small smirk. She stands about 5’7, tall enough as they say but not anything impressive by any means but all her height mostly comes from her long legs. She has soft hourglass curves and is quite ample in certain areas though she doesn't really notice herself. Her limbs, although more lean than athletic bulk in way of looks, are actually quite strong from years of gymnastics and training to protect herself. 

Aaliyah has a pretty laid back and casual style, fine with just jeans/leggings and whatever shirt she grabbed that morning. She doesn't mind showing a bit of skin, confident with her looks but it is usually reserved for tank tops, off the shoulder shirts, or shorts since skirts/dresses are too free flowing. She has no trouble adjusting dress code to fit a current occasion if something else is needed, but otherwise comfy all the way since that is her jive. The only loose or baggy items she wears are usually hoodies/jackets. 

.•° ✿ °•.

When requesting a design, she really pushed the Fashionista to the limit with the offer in creating an outfit. She even waited weeks longer than most in hoping to see the completion and it paid off in her opinion. It took a bit of more tinker flare to do so but she is forever grateful to be able to free up more possibility with her powers due to the design. Her boots and gloves are made special to withstand impact from greater than average falls without damage to her body. Everything has their limits of course but this gives her a greater chance if unsafe maneuvers are needed. In addition, a mask was made to support her in different environments such as water but is weak to gas attack since some things are easier to filter than others, just like any normal gas mask. 

Biography

Aaliyah doesn’t remember much from the younger years of her childhood. According to her adoptive parents, the accident that resulted in her becoming orphaned also is the reason for her memory gap but it could also be blamed on how young she was. She tries not to speak of it and will generally avoid questioning into her past as she doesn’t wish to upset her parents on such a sensitive subject. Other than that unfortunate experience, she has had a relatively normal childhood. She grew up in a nice neighborhood, white picket fences with friendly neighbors and her parents were always there to support her in being her best self. They made sure that she worked hard to be the perfect student, that she was always polite or well mannered, and were active in her daily activities and new interests as to curb any bad habits. Did they tend to be overprotective and a kind of pair helicopter parents? Sure. Were they embarrassing as well as frustrating? Yeah, but they just wanted her to be the best. It wasn’t their fault that they went overboard sometimes and were domineering. It just meant she needed to work harder so they wouldn’t have to worry as much.

They could be a bit strict or overbearing by some peoples standards, a fact she had learned once she finally went to public school during her last year of highschool instead of being homeschooled. A lot of the teens were allowed privileges that she was not but her parents always had reasonable explanations for wanting her to avoid certain things or rejecting her wishes. She was far too busy with studying and doing extracurricular activities to do those kinds of silly things anyway or at least that is what she told herself. It wasn’t like they didn’t reward her for a job well done and they always tried to shower her with affection. It just was sometimes she wanted to make the wrong choice and learn things for herself. She just wanted a sliver of freedom. Instead, she grinned and bore it, that’s how you get through difficult times or challenges after all. 

It wasn’t until the trigger that everything seemed to turn on its head, a real change of pace. For the first time, she felt real freedom and rushed to grasp it. She didn’t waste a moment to pack up her things and hit the road, wanting to find her own place in the world. It was a struggle at first since she didn’t have much in the way of money and certainly didn’t have a place to stay but she wasn’t going back. The streets became her new home for a while, a few good people taking pity on her now and then. It was rough but nothing she wouldn’t have chosen to do again if she had the chance for a do-over. It was a month or so into homelessness that she heard of the Ward Initiative. Aaliyah instantly made her way there, being one of the first willing volunteers. She was not only desperate but she truly wanted to do something good and help those in need. She wanted to be a part of something greater than herself.

Powers/Skills

╭─────────╮    ╭─────────╮
Main ClassSub-Class
MOVERBLASTER/THINKER
╰─────────╯    ╰─────────╯

Aaliyah can create two interconnecting portals of various sizes to any desired location for the transport of people/objects. However, the more people or objects the portal takes in means more energy to keep the portal open and stable as they do so. The same goes for how big the portal is and the distance involved. One person is easy to maintain, distance hardly a factor though it is easier if she has been there before or seen at least a detailed picture of the location. The more people/objects you add, the less distance it is safe to travel without failure. 

Think of it like an elevator, there is a max…keep filling it up past the point then the elevator breaks down, only this one doesn’t come with a repair service and stopping isn’t an option. It means very bad things can happen during a collapse. It could be as simple as being dropped somewhere between the destinations, it could mean being flung somewhere and hoping to land nicely or are not too high up, or could mean leaving parts behind which is the only nice way of putting it. Point is, neither she nor those joining want to have this happen. 

Objects are of less importance during a collapse but it still isn’t helpful to have lost objects scattered about or falling from random places. She usually only uses objects as projectiles which means a lot of speed and gravity goes into it so it could be worrisome if a portal doesn’t hold. 

An active portal is an active portal, meaning she doesn’t have a choice on what or who wants to go in. If it’s open then anyone or anything is free to transverse from one side to the other. This can be good or bad depending. It is why she has to keep full concentration on what she is doing and adjust accordingly to the surprise. 

.•° ✿ °•.

•Acrobatic
She has done gymnastics from a very young age and kept with it throughout the years, only recently pausing for a bit because of her home situation. She knows how to push her body to the limits without injuring herself and has built endurance and stamina. The years of training have also made her flexible, strong, and developed faster reflexes.

•Martial Arts
She is mostly self taught, this very much frowned upon by her parents so she kept it up in secret. She did take a few official training classes here and there so she definitely isn’t totally defenseless. She is no where near a master level and needs much more training to gain her full potential. She is fantastic at dodging and tries to use her opponent strength against them.

•Drawing/Art
She is extremely good at art in general and could have easily taken up a career in this field if she wanted. She loves to draw and design, mostly landscapes but every now and then she will just doodle what is around her. It helps keep her calm and clear her mind. 

•Acting
If she was lying/acting than one would never know it. She can spout a lie or spin a tale without so much as a raise in heart rate. She is quick on her feet and slips into roles like wearing a new pair of shoes.

Other
• Is claustrophobic and not very fond of the dark
• She is excellent at lock-picking but doesn’t really need the skill anymore

Shapeshifting is kinda cool? It’s hard to pick lol

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Hidden 3 yrs ago → 3 yrs ago Post by Riegal

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"Yeah, I-I... I can help out, it's fine."

1. ♫ | 2. ♫ | 3. ♫

Name: 
Morgan Reine

Alias: 
Memento

Nickname(s): 
Prefers being called 'Morie' 
Specifically dislikes being called 'Morg'

Age: 
16

Gender: 
Female

[APPEARANCE]
	Morie's 167cm frame is most commonly hidden beneath hoodies, jackets, skirts, leggings, and boat shoes or sneakers, leading to her giving off a sense of effortless beauty--though she very much puts effort into her looks. A beauty mark sits beneath her left eye, and she is rarely seen without hairpins keeping her bangs organized. She usually ties her hair back in a small ponytail when doing anything physical. 



Mask's gold accents are instead coloured white

[PERSONALITY]
	Morie can give off an unapproachable aura, often looking annoyed or tired. This shell, though, is very easy to get past. The slightest bit of kindness--even sometimes a simple compliment--can quickly melt away her icy demeanor. Despite her best efforts to be aloof, Morie is shockingly clingy and soft-hearted. Though she often has difficulty communicating with words, her expressions and actions do more than enough to show her true nature as a caring ally and friend. Morie is one to nearly never pin blame on another, always being the first to apologize. A tendency to overanalyze little things can often control her, and that is especially true when something goes wrong--she will immediately look inward and pick apart every mistake she believes herself to have made, which can quickly sour her mood. Just as quickly, though, kind words can pick her back up--she becomes attached to people easily, even before she realizes it herself.
	The girl is very quick to sacrifice for the sake of others, finding happiness in doing so through the happiness of those she aids. This trait, along with her general disposition, makes her a very easy soul to manipulate and take advantage of. Morie has recognized this 'doormat' aspect of herself, and it is one of the reasons she tries--and fails--to be distant. Realizing she's been used is a crushing feeling to the girl, not helped by the fact that she can hardly even think to say 'no' without feeling herself panic. The thought of upsetting others, often even if they've upset her, paralyzes her. In short: as much as she desires to be close to others, she's scared to be.
	When she speaks, she is rather slow and deliberate, needing to be focused on being clear with what she means and avoid stammering.
	Notably, Morie excels under pressure. The high of adrenaline coursing through her makes her feel strong, the fear of failing something she deems to be important to her focuses her mind. She can come off as a different person when the chips are down--a person she personally likes better, leading to her being a bit of an adrenaline junkie. Being a hero is a pretty good way to get her fix.

[BACKSTORY]
	Morie's earliest memories pertain to the teasing she endured due to her stutter. She's told she was a loud and outgoing child in her earliest years, but that her free spirit had been dampened by her treatment by her peers--easy enough to believe, considering her natural inclination to be friendly with others that she stifles to protect herself.
	She livened up around the age of six when finding herself the older sister of a pair of fraternal twins, taking to the role with joy. Due to complications with the twins' birth, they were both frail and prone to illnesses, which made life difficult for the family. Morie did all she could to help, taking an interest in medicine and self-teaching herself anything that she thought might be helpful in caring for the twins. She spent much of her free time watching over them, and just generally trying to be the best big sister she could be.
	As she aged into her tween years, she worked on her stuttering and kept mostly to herself and her family. Though with few friends, she was happy with her life, any loneliness kept at bay by her siblings. 
	Things got harder as the twins' condition worsened. They became sick more often and for longer. What little Morie knew was not nearly enough to help them as much as she needed to, feeling more and more like all she could do was offer them small moments of happiness with the time they spent together, and watch them suffer. As time went on, it became clear what their ultimate fate would be, and Morie's parents spoke with her often about the situation to try to help the girl understand and mentally prepare.
	As if such was possible, when her life had revolved around her little brother and sister.
	The uncaring inevitable came to pass, first taking Morie's six-year-old sister. Morie thought she understood that there had been nothing she could do... and for a short while, she was able to pretend she believed that--kept a straight face for her brother, while he was still here, acted the part of the strong, reliable, loving older sister as well as she could manage. When time came to take him away too, though, the cracked glass shattered.
	It wasn't her fault, but that didn't stop her from looking back on everything--analyzing about every moment she had spent. She wished she had learnt more to help, wished she had spent more time with them in general, wished she had been not just a good sister, but a perfect one. She wished she had given them more happiness in their short lives. She would've given her everything for them to have been healthy, but she hadn't done enough. It didn't matter if she had been capable of that or not--she hadn't done enough.
	So caught in the web of her own mind, Morie began to feel like she was failing her parents as well, thinking she was unable to help them grieve and comfort them in her state, though she made efforts to. It added to the crushing weight on her that she was powerless to budge despite her desperation to escape. 
	The only relief Morie found was in a longtime family friend who had met her father in college, a man named Henry. He was a psychologist who was good at what he did, which Morie found out first-hand as he spent more and more time with the family during their hardships. He was able to slow the spiraling, negative thoughts Morie drowned in, and she found herself hoping he was able to help her parents in a similar manner, where she could not.
	It turned out he couldn't. Morie was spared seeing any evidence of the event, but she was whisked away from school one day, and by the end of it she had learnt her parents were dead, a murder-suicide.
	It was sudden, and unbelievable to Morie, but the more she listened, the more she was convinced by others that the explanation that her father had finally snapped from losing two of his children was reasonable. At least, as reasonable as anything could sound in her upturned world. The guilt of failing her siblings came back anew, Morie wishing she had been able to pull herself out of her own sadness enough to help her parents.
	Morie was the last of her family, because she was selfish and weak and always preoccupied with herself. Guilt and self-loathing gripped her. She saw no way to shut down her hostile mind, save for her death--
	The family friend, Henry. A familiar face, willing to talk to her. As before, he helped. Not entirely. Not perfectly. But talking to him somehow helped, when nothing anyone else said could even register in Morie's mind. He adopted her, and helped her begin to recover. Slowly, ever so painfully slowly, Morie began to come to grips with her reality.

[Trigger event redacted for the time being]

	Morie kept herself pointedly distant from her new foster family, but they treated her well, and kept her from fully shutting out the world, instead encouraging her natural inclinations to help others.
	More than a little lost, but knowing she couldn't let herself stop for fear of giving up, the now fourteen-year-old Morie focused her attention on her newfound powers. As she explored them, she reached out and met other powered individuals, being pulled into some minor crime to fit in with the crowd. Quickly though, she found herself feeling unappreciated and only wanted for her ability to heal wounds. On top of that, despite all that happened, even minor crime made Morie feel terribly guilty. She had spent much of her life striving to be a role model for her siblings, and only found herself wishing she could have been even better for them after they were gone--at her core, she was not a villain.
	That group of petty-crime doers split, a couple along with Morie looking instead to do good with some extra recruits. This group went on for longer, and Morie felt like she fit in more, but eventually things fell through again. Made to feel unimportant, unliked, whatever. It was a group of young teens. Not much more could be expected.
	Tired of the unorganized and ineffective ragtag teams, Morie reached out to the PRT, wondering if someone her age could help against villains in at least some official capacity.
	It turned out there was an opportunity for more than she could have hoped for: The Wards.
	The whole thing was not a hard sell to the girl. Soon enough, Morie was packing her things, saying goodbye to her foster family to move to Redline, Maine. Fashionista offered to house the girl, at least for the time being, which Morie accepted after a brief show of hesitance--the woman made it difficult to be guarded around her, which was a trait that quickly began to work on endearing her to Morie despite any appearances the teen put up.

[POWERS]
Current Designation: Striker 6 (Brute 4), Master?

Extra Copies:
	Morie can create lifeless exact replicas of herself. There doesn't seem to be a hard limit to how many she can create, but each one takes about two weeks to complete while Morie goes about her day-to-day life. She can speed up the process by focusing on the task, capable of creating a copy in about 12 hours at her fastest, though this drains her energy quickly and makes her ravenously hungry. A small amount of her power is also required to keep copies from natural bodily decay, meaning too many in storage will also keep her permanently tired.
	Morie can instantly transfer her consciousness to any one of these copies to control them, but can only control a single one at any given moment, the body she comes from becoming a lifeless copy. So far, she's made a point to keep track of her original body and always return to it, but in theory she could lose that body and be mostly unaffected due to these being exact copies (at time of creation).
	When a copy dies, Morie's consciousness is sent back to the last living body she controlled.

Biological Assimilation:
	Morie can absorb biological matter she comes into physical contact with and make it wholly part of her own body. This includes wounds and illnesses, taking on the injury and the bacteria/viruses herself, healing her target in exchange.
	Similar to her other power, this is a slow-to-use ability that shines with prep time. Given a few hours, she can fully absorb another human body (one of her copies always, up until now), using and storing the matter to heal herself and become twice as strong, fast, and durable. The more matter she assimilates, the more these factors increase, with no known limit yet. Due to needing to make physical contact with the matter, this isn't something she can do passively, unlike her copy creation.

	Generally, she stores a few copies that have absorbed around 10 other copies of herself, making those bodies 10x as strong as her baseline human self. One copy she continues to feed, seeing if she can reach a limit to her power, though progress is slow due to both the time needed per copy, and due to the fact that she often uses those copies to cure others of their injuries and ailments. This 'Super Morie' body is currently at fifty-three copy assimilations.

[SKILLS]
- Relatively athletic for her age and size, due to training for the past couple of years.
- Basic hand-to-hand combat knowledge, basic training with weapons.
- Is musically inclined. Shy about it, but has a nice singing voice and enjoys learning and practicing various instruments during her rare free time. Prone to humming quietly to herself, and tapping her feet or fingers to a tune only she can hear.
- Driven. Having Morie by one's side is having a steadfast ally that one can rely on. She might not be a particularly fast learner, but she's a dedicated one.
- Not so much a skill rather than a side-effect of her powers, but Morie exhibits very little fear in regards to dangers to herself. She still experiences fear, and physical pain is never a pleasant experience, but it's easy enough for her to talk herself past any trepidation. This can lead to her being a surprisingly vicious and ruthless adversary--after all, trading an eye for an eye is nearly always favoured for Morie. As an aside, she still very much experiences acute fear for the safety of others.

[OTHER]
- Morie has something of a morbid fascination with death (and pain, to a lesser extent), due to her history and powers. She's already experienced dying herself multiple times--which isn't something most people can say--while at the same time does not have to fear permanent death even in terrifyingly dangerous situations.
- 4. ♫|5. ♫

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Hidden 3 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by yoshua171

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yoshua171 The Loremaster

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Presidio

"Alright! Let’s...um, make the world a better place, one piece at a time! Yeah...."
[ ♦ ] Bio
♦ Name: Kari, Avalielle. Simmons.
♦ Age: 22.
♦ Loyalty: Guardians.
♦ Appearance: Kari is short, measuring only 5’3 and is at a healthy weight due to her routine and fortunate genetics. Her neck-length hair is styled in a relaxed way, with short bangs that frame her face and highlight her gentle features and hazel eyes. Her style varies depending on mood, but frequently has her hiding within her clothes as if self-conscious of her figure. As such much of her wardrobe is modest, rather than showy, with her favored color choices being soft, gentler shades accented by brighter complements that make everything pop! Though infrequently in display in her civilian identity, Kari’s figure is hourglass in shape with curves in all the right places--something which brings her far more attention than she would normally prefer. 

On the other hand, when in costume, Kari attempts to combat her typically quiet diminutive nature by putting herself on display more prominently. To further differentiate herself Kari wears contacts in costume, whereas normally she would wear glasses. While she does not wear much in the way of a proper mask in costume, she does tend to alter her make-up, particularly around the eyes, choosing rather striking blue for eye shadow and liner to shift the color of her hazel eyes. Beyond this, she uses many incredibly thin layers of “locked” forcefields to create a mask of sorts, ringing around her eyes with angular, winged shapes that branch outwards in addition to skintight forcefields that hug her jawline and outline her lower lip.

A tiara-like set of forcefields define her hairline, holding her bangs back in addition to a hair tie. The aforementioned “tiara” is reminiscent of the crenellations on the top of a castle’s walls or towers, with the imagery being an intentional reference to her cape name and insignia. Beyond its ornamental purpose, this tiara actually contains a set of incredibly thin interlocked forcefields and a set of mechanisms, the former being compressed onto eachother to fit in the small amount of space. At will, she is capable of activating the mechanism effectively lowering a curved shield over her whole face. Furthermore, all of the forcefields that help make-up her mask are connected by thin threads of her power or other mechanisms all of which are “locked”. As a direct result of this, her mask is roughly the durability of steel.

Beneath the forcefields around her eyes, against her brows, and against the bridge of her nose there lies a relatively simple light blue mask, which is tied around her head tightly with several strong cords wrapped in dainty ribbons that she works into her hair--she often reinforces this with more forcefields. It is worth noting that in costume, Kari’s hazel eyes appear as a startling blue, whereas most times out of costume her eyes appear a rich brown or light mottled green.

Keep scrolling.

Art by the wonderful TwistedFae

In the colder seasons, Presidio modifies her costume's typical design. This modified version includes a black turtleneck with sweeping arcs of light blue in place of the revealing top beneath her vest, as well as warm black pants that go into her boots rather than shorts.

More or less the same as her costume designed for colder months, Presidio has some alterations in the interest of comfort and style.

♦ History:
James Clairville and Sarah Collins, a performer and an artist fell in love and married. A year or so later the two had Kari who they lovingly nurtured. James, an actor, and Sarah did their utmost to support eachother and their daughter, doing double duty as they worked and raised her. Truly things were sometimes a blur in their household, but more importantly it was always warm and fun. Of course things became even more interesting as Kari matured, for as she participated in school her parents found that she was truly gifted. So, naturally, they edged for her to carry on in their footsteps, encouraging the arts--writing, acting, painting, singing, it hardly mattered, “just pick one,” they’d say. Seeking approval, Kari did so, taking part in little plays and helping design costumes. This trend carried on from her early schooling into middle school until finally her burgeoning personality could not simply conform anymore.

From then on Kari let what she’d long hidden beneath the surface out into the world, a curiosity not for the arts, but instead for what her parents would think their polar opposite. For, unlike her parents, Kari’s passion was the world, math, science, history and as she got older she only leaned into her passions more. In school she excelled, skipping a year in middle school and going into high school earlier than most. She was a nerd, but she found some acceptance among peers, as, while her parents supported her, they could not ever really understand her passions. Kari’s were just too different from their own. Of course, high school ended too soon as she breezed through courses and wowed both her parents and teachers in a frenzy wrought of diligence and ambition. She wanted to be a scientist, to enter the field of tech and much fell away as a result. Hobbies that she’d kept up with since childhood drifted away, only resurging as she required the skills honed through them.

Accepting her passion, even though he did not understand it, her father hired tutors and began the process of enrolling his daughter in college. All the while, Kari and her mother grew apart, a rift opened by what Sarah had taken as a betrayal. Once enrolled she worked hard, majoring in computer technology, intending to go into the field, designing new hardware for the world over. It was hard, but she loved it. However, just before she could graduate--though she’d been damned close--life happened, her world collapsing around her. Her mother died in a freak accident and the loss devastated her.

Wracked by guilt and sorrow Kari and her father just tried to keep their heads up. Despite their loss they were fortunate in other ways, finding themselves in Boston. They settled in and her father was forced to take up menial labor--he just wasn't in a state to support the career he’d led before. She hated seeing him so, and she hated more the terrible loss that tore at her heart. So, naturally, she distracted herself, steeling her resolve and moving forwards. She picked up where she’d left off, teaching herself more skills and applying to jobs with a dedicated determination to ease her father’s burden and to make a difference.

After months of work she landed herself a job and immediately launched into development and customer service--using whatever spare money and resources she could to build and design something new...something that would benefit everyone. Soon her efforts earned her a proper place at her job, allowing her to leverage their resources with her skill to really begin the development of her project. Things were going well for awhile, the pay was good and she was happy, but soon misfortune reared its head. Checking her work one week she came upon an error in her work. Thinking it largely inconsequential she set about fixing the problem, replacing parts and altering code. However, the more she did the worse things got. She’d come back to it only to find things in a worse state than they’d been before. Worse still, a meeting was coming up where she was supposed to be showcasing her new product. The stress only worsened the issue and eventually things spiralled out of control, totally ruining month upon month of work. Feeling totally out of her depth and utterly overwhelmed--and baffled--by her situation she triggered, the fear of losing such a huge part of her life, and jeopardizing everything, breaking her down.

Having lost months of work and seemingly wasted resources, upper management demoted her to a junior position, shelving her project for a later date. Fortunately, they were much more understanding that she’d expected. In the interest of her mental health, they gave her a month’s paid leave and left things at that. Still reeling and feeling cast aside she spent many of those days aimless and lost. The only things that saved her were the preoccupation of experimenting with her newfound powers, research on the subject, and more importantly...escape by way of art. While not many of her mother’s pieces had survived the flooding of her childhood home some years back, they’d managed to reacquire a few. Kari surrounder herself with them and decided to give her mother’s passion a second chance.

Taking up the brush and pencil, she spread her emotions over the canvas and found that perhaps she’d never really had a particular dislike for the arts. Maybe she’d just been rebellious. Maybe that’s what had led her on this path? She wasn’t sure and it was impossible to go back and find out so instead she looked forwards. She still had a job to lead, soon, but now she had powers. She was a parahuman. Couldn’t she do so much more to affect the lives of everyone for the better?

Eventually deciding she could, Kari began designing a costume and after a time, returned to her work as well. While she has yet to rise to her former position, she still makes enough to get by. Though it is not just her former failure that has kept her from rising again, but rather that her ambitions have taken on a new form. With her costume finished and name chosen, Presidio has every intent to make the world a better...safer place.

Since completing her costume, Kari has taken to the streets in the guise of Presidio. After perhaps three months of serving as an independent hero on scene in Redline, she began to notice the PRT establishing a presence. Having become known as a competent hero in the area with a pretty solid public perception already established, Kari jumped at the offer to join the local Guardians as they formed. It's been perhaps a month since then, and she's beginning to fit in well with the team.

One month ago, 3 days after Transferring.

Arriving on the scene, her forcefield armor already carefully crafted, Presidio took in her surroundings. An intersection, cars abandoned, people far away to keep clear of the danger. Several stores with broken windows, and most notably, a single individual sitting cross-legged in the middle of the street, eyes closed. Narrowing her eyes, Presidio straightened her back and began generating forcefields, 12 for each second. Unsure what sort of person she was going to be dealing with, she started simple, creating a set of 5 shields at the upper end of her size range (3 feet across), which she then swiftly molded and fit together. Smaller shields fit into grooves and slots, locking the components into place before the entire thing folded into a single shield. She counted down in her head.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6--….

Activating her communicator she contacted HQ, “I’m on site. One individual, likely parahuman. Sitting in the street. Civilians have backed off significantly.” At the sound of her voice, the costumed individual glanced up at her, opening his eyes in the process. The eyes had no pupils.

“Only one?” the man said, his voice strangely detached, almost as if it hadn’t come from anywhere in particular.

Presidio frowned slightly, “Are you going to come quietly, or do we need to do this the hard way?” There was a hard edge to her voice, a tone that brokered no argument, yet on the inside she was unsure. It was an act. The man tilted his head, smiled, and then casually gestured. From left field, a blue mailbox suddenly splintered violently into hundreds of shards, which hurtled towards the heroine.

Acting quickly, Presidio swiveled her shield into place at her left, placing her hand against its center and twisting. It unfurled, expanding into a larger disk, the mechanisms she’d established prior taking action. She braced herself, keeping an eye on the villain.

She felt several of her forcefields lock into place. In the next moment, the shards of metal slammed into her shield, sending a shock through her as she absorbed some of the force behind the attack. She swallowed hard.

‘That hits far harder than it has any right to,’ she mused, filing the information away as more shields began to warp and arrange into another construct. With some of her spare shields she began to harry the villain, sending them forwards at max speed to pin him down. The countdown began for them locking into a more stable arrangement.

The man shot to his feet and gestured towards himself. The dispersed shards flew towards him, striking down a vast swath of her shields before they reached him. She grit her teeth. He gestured again, the fragments flying in her direction. His other hand was in a pocket, yet to move.

She spun her shield into place, moving her still building construct behind it and her, ensuring that it wouldn’t get taken out preemptively. Again the force struck, pushing her back slightly before the splinters passed her over. The man gestured sideways. Shields moved to slow the projectiles, even as her eyes widened and she lunged forwards. Still, despite her efforts, she lost a construct, and still suffered several cuts as a few of the splinters bypassed her armor--shattering components--drawing jagged lines across her flesh.

She was vulnerable. This bastard could attack faster than she could shift her shields into position to defend herself. Without her armor she’d probably be out of the fight…. Something needed to change.

Taking action, Presidio ran forwards, attempting to close the distance. She saw him begin a movement, and moved her shield behind her, blocking an attack. As the force of the strike passed she moved the shield again, predicting how he’d move his arm. It worked. However, she knew she wouldn’t have time to defend again. Taking the initiative, she hopped upwards, using the shields of her armor to add distance and height to her action. A shield popped into existence beneath her as she began to arc down. Then several more. She hopped again on contact, getting a good distance from the ground even as the splinters of metal hurtled through the air where she’d just been.

Jumping from shield to shield, she made it harder for him to aim his power at her. He seemed surprised.

Good.

Acting, she arranged a set of forcefields into an array, a net of sorts, hiding them behind the surface of her main Shield. The countdown began. He struck at her again and she winced in pain as more jagged blades struck her, cutting through costume and flesh. She’d have bruises after this, but hopefully only those and some cuts. Hopefully, none of the attacks had lodged in her flesh.

Five seconds passed, she descended, pulling the extra forcefields she’d generated up and around herself--helping the cumbersome locked ones along by pushing against them with the more mobile blue shields. They didn’t quite fit together, but she managed a crude sphere, with the leading shield being the only proper construct in the mix.

The man moved, taking his other hand from a pocket. A phone pole was promptly shredded as he pulled it into the sway of his power, striking at her now from two directions. Many of her shields were taken out--some of the attacks hit her--but she bulled through, hitting him with her Shield, before collapsing it and spinning it on its axis. In the next moment she willed forth the array of shields she’d been prepping. Promptly they splayed out, hitting him full on, and entangling his limbs before locking into place. He fell over on his back, struggling, but unable to move. The shards of metal stopped moving. Presidio landed next to him, breathing hard.
[ ♦ ] Personality
♦ General: Kari wants to make the world a better, safer place. Specifically, she wants to make a big difference, furthering civilization, and pushing back the chaos that villains bring into daily life. She wants to give more people the opportunity to truly thrive. Similarly, though she’d never admit it, Kari is using her cape activities to branch out, to enrich herself, and as a result, she’s trying to rise to prominence in her own way.

Furthermore, though Kari is typically rather shy and unassuming in personality, she has been slowly changing after her trigger. In part, this is a result of her desire to move forwards, but more prominently it is the influence of her shard pushing her into a more “dominant” role to suit its own ends. By reinforcing what confidence she has, and to a more limited degree, fostering possible arrogance, her shard is doing its subtle work to drive her into further conflict. Where before Kari was just very dedicated, now she is something of a perfectionist. While she’s always been ambitious, her shard has shifted that ambition to a world-scale and is angling for her to become more lofty and domineering, wanting her to attempt at rising above all others. Granted, all of this is very subtle and most of it is not so severe that Kari--or those close to her--would immediately notice. It is worth mentioning that over time some of these traits will be further accentuated, resulting in the further alteration of her personality. Lastly, her shard has driven a sort of psychological wedge between Kari’s actions...and her actions as Presidio, allowing Kari to more easily rationalize anything she does as Presidio.

♦ Derangement: While perhaps not so life altering as some changes, Kari’s shard has indeed changed the make-up of her personality. First and foremost by shifting her closer to “dominant” than shy, reinforcing confidence and, to a limited degree, arrogance in the interest of causing additional conflict. Where before Kari was just very dedicated, now she is something of a perfectionist. While she’s always been ambitious, her shard has shifted that ambition to a world-scale and is angling for her to become more lofty and domineering, wanting her to attempt at rising above all others. Granted, all of this is very subtle and most of it is not so severe that Kari--or those close to her--would immediately notice. It is worth mentioning that over time some of this traits will be further accentuated, resulting in further change. Lastly, her shard has driven a sort of psychological wedge between Kari’s actions...and her actions as Presidio, allowing Kari to more easily rationalize anything she does as Presidio.
[ ♦ ]
Parahumanism
♦ Skills:

Engineer - As both a software and hardware engineer, Kari has significant expertise both in the development of programs and/or websites, as well as in creating components. Since gaining her power she has begun expanding her repertoire, learning about the physics present in more brute force physical engineering to allow her to better utilize her power’s unique functionality.

Artist/Design - More of a hobbyist than anything, Kari has a decent hand for sketching out designs and some skill with choosing color palettes and the like. She took a few classes in the arts, but didn’t finish any of them, so her style--and skills--are unrefined, if functional.

Sewing - Her mother taught her some of this, and it is one of the ways she stayed connected to her after her death, and as a result she has a significant amount of skill with making her own designs and executing them with some reliability. Still, she’s no professional and only has fairly basic tools, such as a sewing machine, to help her in this regard.

Combat Training - Due to her having joined the Guardians, she’s been received combat instruction as well as additional exercise to get her in better shape--though she’s always eaten well and taken care of herself.

Social/Cognitive Skills - Though Kari is fairly self-conscious and awkward out of her costume, she is observant, empathetic, and cares about people deeply. She’s the sort of friend you go to for comfort, to vent, and for good advice. Perhaps her most relevant mental skill is how quick of a study she is, and furthermore, how dedicated she can be, both of which are considerable assets in most situations.

♦ Classification: Shaker|Thinker.
♦ Mechanics: Kari’s power allows her to generate numerous translucent forcefields within 10 feet of herself or 6 inches from another forcefield. She can control these forcefields within a 30-foot radius, as well as alter their shape or interlock them. At most, she can generate 12 forcefields per second, with the rate decreasing depending on several variables, including the number of active forcefields, the state of those forcefields, as well as whether or not her shields are part of constructs. Kari maintains awareness of her forcefields and is capable of controlling them telekinetically with incredible precision, implying an enhanced capacity to process information and multitask. In tangent with this enhanced processing, Kari’s power grants her an intuitive understanding of how components can fit together to form larger functional wholes. The aforementioned thinker power almost solely applies to her forcefields but can be applied to things with similar constructions, thus excluding technology that possesses wires, circuits, and the like.

Her shields have two states, the blue baseline state they manifest in and the silver locked state she can shift them to. Baseline shields are brittle like common glass but can move at 60mph and change shape; Locked shields are equivalent to 1/8th inch of RHA (rolled homogeneous armor) plate* but can move at 10mph. Switching a shield from baseline to locked takes between 5-15 seconds proportional to the size of the shield(s) in question. The size of individual shields is limited between 1.2 inches in diameter (a half dollar) and a 3-foot diameter disk’s surface area. The average shield is 1.5 feet in diameter or equivalent surface area. All shields are about .01 inches thick, or roughly equivalent to several stacked sheets of paper. Her larger forcefields do tend to be slightly more difficult to control, though this might just be a result of air resistance. Her shields are Manton limited and cannot be generated inside of solid matter, though they can be created in empty spaces inside things (such as a hollow inside a gourd).

Despite their apparent frailty, baseline shields can briefly carry Kari’s weight. This reveals a quirk of her power, as her shields are far more effective at pushing, pulling, and interacting either with one another or in tangent to affect the world. This quirk does however render proper flight impossible. If not actively in use, her shields will decay; the same occurs if the shield exits her standard range. If the durability of a shield is exceeded--or the shield decays--it will harmlessly shatter into dust, and then vanish. The decay of her shields within her range is slower than if they leave it. In a similar vein, her power’s range of influence is somewhat variable, capable of expanding if her constructs become large enough to exceed its size so as not to limit her experimentation overmuch.

*Her locked shields are strong enough to resist handgun and shotgun ammunition, though slugs are at the upper end of that range. Rifle rounds will penetrate at least a layer on average.

**Her Thinker power allows her to effectively “store” and “recreate” things she has seen before, including mundane objects--within the constraints of her power--and constructs she’s made in the past.

***Her shields act ablatively, reducing the force/momentum behind things striking them by breaking/absorbing some of it.

****Getting hit by (or running into) a baseline shield is like a paper thin pane of glass that shatters into solid nothingness as soon as it impacts you. It might throw you off a little, or marginally slow you down, but the worse you’ll get is the most minor of bruises.

*****Kari’s power affords her a significantly potent telekinetic grip on her forcefields. This is particularly relevant to her locked shields. Individuals with muscle/strength brute 5 ratings or higher can force individual shields into new positions via brute force. This effect stacks per shield. Smaller shields can be moved more easily, with the lower end requiring only a muscle brute 3 rating or equivalent amount of exerted force.

Brute 5 equivalent: Exert force equivalent to moving 2500 lbs.
Brute 3 equivalent: Exert force equivalent to moving 1700 lbs.

♦ Equipment:
Gauntlets: Though their name implies heavy armor, the reality is that these implements are more like gloves than anything. They are mostly cloth, with thin metal fittings, including pieces that jut out and then hook in as well as slots. She has worked similar metal embroidery into her costume as well. The colors include light blue, silver, and gold with patterning to match the rest of her costume.

Med kit: She carries a small medical kit at the back of her belt in a pouch. Contains gauze, bandages, pain pills, small scissors, and several ointments for pain or infection. Similarly there is hydrogen peroxide, though only a small quantity.

Wireless communicator: Issued from the Guardians. Often defended by a complex array of tightly bound forcefields.

Bmp Bmp

The rough bassy sound of a finger tapping a live mic rumbled for a moment as Presidio pulled her finger away, her smile easy and warm.

“Oh good, haha, the last guy who interviewed me didn’t realize his microphone had come unplugged. To answer your question though, ah I’d say it’s less that I have a favorite type of power…and more that I like seeing heroes find unexpected applications for them. Like Unforgiven! On paper, her power doesn’t sound terribly impressive. I mean, its range is only two feet!”

Chuckling lightly, Presidio shook her head briefly, continuing as she stopped. “Then you see her zip around a battlefield like a proper flier, just as impossible to hit as she is to deal with whenever she closes the distance and lands one of her surprisingly effective hits. Even then, she doesn’t tend to do much damage, but it turns out hitting the right spots’ll do you much better than hitting hard sometimes. That’s just my take though. That said…” she trailed off, thinking for a moment before her eyes lit up, “...if I had to pick, I do love a good ole telekinetic, but hey…maybe that’s just my bias talking.”

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Crosspoint

"Hey man, no worries. After all, I'm sure you'll make it up to me."
[ ♦ ] Bio
♦ Name: Caiden Mckay.
♦ Age: 17.
♦ Loyalty: Wards.
♦ Appearance: Standing at 6 feet exactly, Caiden is roughly 200 or so lbs, possessing a slim build with a small amount of natural muscle definition. He’s got an easy confidence about him that simply must have come from years of not having almost any reason to think less of himself. Beyond that, his blue eyes and white hair–obviously dyed–make him a rather striking figure, or at least he thinks so.

♦ History:
Born in New Haven, Connecticut, Caiden’s upbringing was filled with the subtle struggles of the not-so-well off. Fortunately though, both his parents were around during Caiden’s upbringing. Still, that didn’t mean that things weren’t rough, and though it was perhaps the least of their problems, Caiden was never happy with how much his dad was gone. Nonetheless, life was fairly routine until he reached the age of 13. Around that time Caiden’s father left, things between his parents having grown increasingly strained over the past couple of years. From there it was a slow road downhill as his mom picked up two jobs to make ends meet and he was forced to grow up fast to help take care of his younger sister, Kaelyn. Between her and school, Caiden had little time to hang out with friends or express himself. He took to using fashion–paying for clothes by doing odd jobs whenever he had free time. By the time he was about to enter high school, he’d amassed a considerable collection of clothes. Though things weren’t perfect and there was a quiet ember of anger in him, things seemed to be taking a turn for the better as Kaelyn was now old enough to largely take care of herself. However, as he entered high school, things would certainly take a turn that no one could have predicted.

Around his Sophmore year of high school, Caiden was in a bad place. Though he was popular at school he found himself more attracted to a particularly bad crowd of kids. Hanging out with some of them he became acquainted with some older students, be they seniors in high school or sophomores in college. As summer rolled around and he’d found himself spending a worrying amount of time with these people, his mother started to notice the changes in his behavior. Sneaking out, coming back smelling like cigarettes and once, weed–not to mention the terrible terrible argument. Confronting him, Caiden’s mom was on her last nerve. The next week it seemed Caiden had turned over a new leaf, however, having gotten a job to occupy his time over the summer. Little did she know that he’d gotten his job through the new ‘friends’ he’d made. Initially, it seemed like a decent way to pass the time, Caiden found, as it let him stay away from his difficult home situation and the constant reminders of his father’s absence. Then the hours got longer and the weight of dealing with shitty customers started to push him down. However, as his situation started to show, his coworkers noticed his weakness and capitalized on it. The true gauntlet began. Every day was a new exercise in torment. He’d be forced to work in the kitchen with the friers and often he’d get bumped or pushed far too close for comfort, often getting little burns here and there. Still, he grinned and bore it even as the pressure mounted. Then his coworkers, the bastards, started calling in or forcing him to take their shifts. He’d get called during time with those few friends who would still tolerate him, the ones who weren’t caught up in the shitty crowd he’d foolishly involved himself with.

Family outings interrupted, plans canceled, it was quickly becoming too much. Yet, while Caiden certainly wanted out, he wanted to get back at them so much more. After all, while the job was hard, the money was nice and it was a welcome distraction. Days passed him by and eventually on one of his particularly long shifts, on his 8th day in a row, one of the bastards took it too far and almost had him end up burning his whole arm. Absolutely furious, Caiden snapped, pushing the big idiot onto the ground with a bit more strength than he’d intended. With the hoodlum on the ground, looking like a stunned deer in the headlights. Cussing out the lot of them and throwing around insults that he’d never thought he was brave enough to say aloud, Caiden eventually–totally fed up with the situation–left. He felt their stares on his back even after he’d left. In the day that followed, one of oh so few days off he had that week–not that he intended to return–he got back-to-back calls from his manager. He didn’t answer. It was only as he checked his email and opened a message from that same boss that he realized how fucked he was.
“You better be in tomorrow, or all that shit you did is getting out, you little punk.”

In that moment he realized that he’d have to face them again. There was just no avoiding it, he couldn’t risk his mom finding out about the bullshit they’d made him do. Just as angry that he’d been so stupid as he was that they wouldn’t just let him off the hook, Caiden realized that things had well and truly spiraled far out of control. So, not knowing what to do, but understanding that the consequences of going back would be just as bad, he triggered.

Doing what was–fortunately–only a small amount of damage to his room, Caiden adjusted to his new powers surprisingly quickly. After all, he’d gotten used to changes in his situation, and honestly…having powers meant that he suddenly had a solution to his problem. What followed were a series of poorly conceived plans and decisions that would inevitably lead to a rather public case, followed by the PRT contacting his mother. After being given an ultimatum to figure his shit out and become a member of this new “Wards Program” or be grounded effectively forever Caiden relented. The months that followed were hard, but with funding and his mom’s savings they managed to move to Redline, Maine where the new program would be starting. From there, things started getting better as, despite the things he’d done, Caiden had learned some valuable lessons from his experiences and so had grown–if not in all the right ways.
[ ♦ ] Personality
♦ General: Caiden has a certain magnetism to him, the kind that rather easily lands him in the more ‘popular’ crowds among his peers. He’s good with people and seems to thrive in social situations, at least so long as he isn’t overtly challenged. After all, beneath his generally relaxed attitude and friendly demeanor there is a simmering repressed anger, and a desire to be needed, to belong. This can express itself in subtle barbs that he might pepper into an otherwise innocuous conversation, or perhaps as a more insidious manipulation of public opinion over an extended period. Hell, if you’re lucky, you might even notice a hint of arrogance about him, something he tries to keep under wraps…at least out of costume. Beyond that, Caiden is possessed of a fierce competitive spirit that belies his typically ‘chill’ mannerisms. Though he is intelligent and even internally critical of the world around him, Caiden is the sort that tends not to use his observations unless pushed to–though this is not to say that he can’t be unduly harsh at times. All-in-all, despite his faults, Caiden is a relatively pleasant person to be around…at least if social harmony is maintained.

♦ Derangement: Simply put, Caiden’s shard played off of his repressed anger to encourage a sort of enjoyment for violence in the young man, as well as dialing up his need to feel in control of situations and to a lesser degree, people.
[ ♦ ]
Parahumanism
♦ Skills:

Street Smarts - Having hung out with a rather…questionable crowd when he lived in New Haven, Caiden learned some unexpected pieces of knowledge about surviving on the streets. While the rules are often different in different cities, some things are universal. On top of this, he’s got a bit of street fighting experience when he was forced to rough house with some of the older ruffians. Simply put, he knows how to hold up an effective guard, and he can throw a mean punch. Though he’s managed to stay out of similar crowds since they moved–if only because he’s low-key terrified of ending up in a similar situation as his last encounter–Caiden has gotten to know the city well in the months he’s lived in Redline. As such, he’s got a good understanding of its layout, where the dead ends are, and how best to lose someone therein. Perhaps this will help him uncover the criminal elements in the city in his newfound role as a Ward.

Smooth Talker - Used to having to explain his way out of trouble due to his background, and furthermore possessed of a not insignificant charisma, Caiden is exceptionally good at talking his way out of or into a wide variety of situations. Similarly, he can lie without batting an eye and is rather good at not being caught in the lies he does tell.

Fashion Sense - As this is the primary way through which Caiden has expressed himself throughout his adolescence, Caiden could be considered rather fashionable. Furthermore, having been in a wide array of social situations, he’s got an eye for what sort of impression people want to leave based on what they’re wearing. While this doesn’t make him any sort of master detective, it does mean that people’s clothing tends to tell him a lot more about them than it might someone without his background. Beyond this it gives him another avenue to cultivate an image or particular impression when interacting with different people.

Endurance & Athleticism - Simply put, Caiden has a lot of energy and he’s in pretty decent shape. As such he can last for longer than average during physical activities and he finds most social engagements energizing, rather than tiring. Just don’t expect to outlast him if it’s a matter of human perseverance.

♦ Classification: Blaster|Shaker.
♦ Mechanics: Crosspoint’s power allows him to conjure blade-like projectiles from prismatic energy within a five (5) foot radius of his person. These blades take a fourth of a second to manifest and upon materializing fully, the prismatic energy becomes bound to them. These blades are treated mostly as if they are mundane objects, meaning that they do not demanifest after striking something else. Notably, the young man can hold up to ten (10) of these blades within his manifestation radius with each blade being roughly equivalent to wood in durability. Additionally, Crosspoint is capable of telekinetically maneuvering his blades at roughly twenty (20) mph while they remain within his manifestation radius. While the blades remain under his control in this field, Crosspoint may alter their post-launch attributes, allowing him to adjust their durability, velocity, and launch type with each of these traits drawing from the same ‘pool’ of power. Furthermore, it should be noted that Crosspoint is capable of creating ‘composite projectiles’ by melding two (2) to four (4) of his blades into one, giving the resulting blade a greater allocation of potential that may be divvied between its three properties. These composite blades will always be visually distinct, as the prismatic energy surrounding them becomes more pronounced due to a consistent ‘pulsing’ pattern that is observed to occur. Lastly, testing has revealed that despite composite blades technically reducing the total count of active projectiles, that until used, they will still take up the same amount of his total capacity as if they remained separate (i.e. if Crosspoint has ten (10) blades active, and merges three (3), he will not be able to manifest an additional two (2) blades until he has launched some of those that are already active).

Length: 3 feet.
Blade Width: 3 inches.
Guard Width: 9 inches.

Crosspoint’s explanation for how the allotment of power to a given trait functions was, essentially, to compare his pool of power to a set number of ‘stat points’ with each property of his blades being an individual stat. The following information was compiled after extensive testing on Crosspoint’s power after the allotment of varying ‘stat spreads’ to different blades.

This property, as expected, dictates how much punishment a given blade can handle before shattering, be it pressure, tearing, or cutting force.

1st Tier (Brittle) - At this tier, the blades are much like glass in durability and will break relatively easily even from forces a normal human could output.

2nd Tier (Hardwood) - About as durable as particularly dense wood, these blades can be destroyed with significant effort, making them remain somewhat formidable if only due to their density.

3rd Tier (Stone) - Roughly equivalent to concrete or granite in durability, these blades can be cracked or shattered by similar forces as these materials.

4th Tier (Steel) - Roughly as durable as processed steel.

5th Tier (Titanium) - Roughly as durable as processed titanium.
This property, simply put, dictates the speed at which Crosspoint’s projectiles will travel prior to being ‘launched’. 

1st Tier (Slow) - Moving at an almost glacial pace, blades at this tier will barely even appear to be a threat as they fly forth at a measly 10 or so mph, barely faster than the fastest human olympian. 

2nd Tier (Steady) - Crossing distance considerably faster than the first tier, blades at this speed tier will move at 40 mph.

3rd Tier (Pitch) - Equivalent to the fastest human throw, these blades can move at roughly 100 mph.

4th Tier (Split) - Finally far outstripping any human limit, these blades move at a startling 300 mph.

5th Tier (Blind) - Stunningly fast, blades given this tier of velocity can be propelled at a startling 1000 mph, somewhat slower than the speed of your average bullet (1700), though still 300 mph faster than the speed of sound. Notably, blades charged with this tier will glow more brightly than others and will flash once before firing.
The only non-standard property of Crosspoint’s blades, Launch Type dictates how released projectiles will behave.

1st Tier (Directional) - The most basic launch type, the first tier allows the blades to be fired in a single straight line decided prior to launch.

2nd Tier (Angular) - Building on the tier before it, the Angular launch type allows Crosspoint to have his projectiles turn once at a 90-degree angle. The time that they turn, and what direction they turn in are set prior to launch.

3rd Tier (Trajectory) - Breaking the mold, this launch type allows the blades to have complex preprogrammed trajectories, allowing them to curve multiple times. As before, the trajectory is decided prior to launch and cannot be changed afterward.

4th Tier (Tracking) - Further exceeding limits, this launch type allows Crosspoint to choose a target prior to launch and then have his blade(s) track its movement until they strike something.

5th Tier (Liminal) - Obliterating the previously established blueprint, but keeping to the trend, the liminal launch type gives Crosspoint a drastically increased amount of control of his projectiles. While still unable to manually control their movement after launch, the Liminal tier allows him to combine up to two launch types for a single projectile. In this way a blade could be fired with a Directional Launch Type, only to swap to Tracking at a point of Crosspoint’s choosing. Notably, Crosspoint can only swap the movement type once, though he does not have to choose when this switch happens prior to launch.

As a predictive measure used to approximate the properties of any given individual projectile, we have worked with Crosspoint to create a basic ‘stat pool’ which serves as a rough equivalent to the pool of power that he draws from. As such, it must be assumed that any individual–read: Not composite–projectile will have a maximum of eight (8) ‘points’ to divvy between its three aspects. Furthermore, when creating composite projectiles, some power is lost in the melding process, causing each joined projectile to allow an additional two (2) such ‘points’ to the pool.

Expanding upon the above, Crosspoint’s blade-like projectiles have two secondary abilities, both of which are directly tied to the prismatic energy that surrounds them. The first, and simpler of these, is that Crosspoint can detonate this prismatic energy at will, causing it to erupt outwards in a blast of kinetic force easily capable of sending loose material flying some distance, or–conversely–knocking a person or large object two (2) to four (4) feet in a given direction. Notably, these blasts are typically diffuse enough that they cannot cause significant damage to all but the weakest objects or substances. However, should someone be hit point-blank by such an eruption of force, it could cause low-end blunt force trauma in line with what is needed to cause minor bruises.

Significantly more noteworthy than the prior application of Crosspoint’s prismatic energy is the secondary manifestation of such. Rather than releasing the energy outright, Crosspoint’s power allows him to position multiple blades in the environment in the interest of creating arrays, the smallest of which require at least three (3) blades. After being positioned properly, Crosspoint may trigger this secondary manifestation, causing the prismatic energy to blanket the inner bounds denoted by the array. Upon activation, anything, or anyone caught within the bounds of an array is subjected to incredible pressure. This is the result of the prismatic energy exerting kinetic force therein. This effect becomes more pronounced–and dangerous–as additional blades are added to a given array, with a basic three (3) blade array drastically impeding the movement of a normal human or conversely causing surface-level damage to inanimate material (i.e causing cracks in stone or slowly warping metal). Though extensive testing on this effect was conducted, no upper limit of potency could be found and due to the significant risk involved, testing was aborted after [redacted] blades were utilized. However, though no limit to potency could be established, it became clear that the strength of a given array is inversely proportional to the length of time it will remain active. It has been estimated that while a basic three (3) blade arrangement may last almost indefinitely, larger arrangements are increasingly unstable. As such, though the results of the tests were somewhat inconsistent, it has been theorized that for each order of magnitude, an array’s duration is reduced by roughly a half.

♦ Equipment/Belongings:
Costume: Surprising Fashionista and her department with his choices, Caiden made sure that his costume was sufficiently impressive. The costume is much easier to maneuver in, often making it seem like he’s not wearing it, with the way the cloth somehow actively doesn’t get in his way. Further, it’s more akin to leather in durability than regular cloth, despite appearances, and it is startlingly light considering.

Smartphone: For personal use.

The villain lunged at him, building up speed with every inch of the distance she traveled, her power clearly ramping up as black energy arced across her form. Reacting quickly, Crosspoint gestured, manifesting six silver blades at his right which he swiftly calibrated. Each would be as durable as steel, with half tracking his adversary, while the other half would follow set trajectories. He keyed the latter set to move more swiftly than the former and then without any hesitation released them. Snapping, a small grin forming on his lips, Crosspoint manifested four more blades even as the villain was forced to take a zigzagging path to evade the blade he’d sent her way.

Satisfied that he’d bought enough time, Caiden watched as three of his blades rose a few feet into the air, angled off suddenly, and then thrust themselves downwards and into the ground. As he kept track of his adversary’s movements, he noted that his other blades–finally–had all missed, instead striking other targets much as he’d expected she would manage. Noting as she turned on a dime and rushed at him, he gestured again, releasing two of the four projectiles he’d conjured. These weren’t terribly durable, nor were they as fast as he could manage. However, in exchange, he could toggle them between tracking and manual. Thus as the villainess dodged both of them, ducking under their movement, Caiden took direct control. Turning on a dime, the blades spun into motion and then stabbed downwards in an instant. The attack was unbelievably precise, piercing her clothes, without touching her flesh, before digging directly into the ground. At the same time, he hopped backward and sent one of his last two projectiles downwards into the ground.

“Checkmate,” he said with a smug air, and then the secondary effect of his power activated. The woman’s inhuman eyes widened as she surely felt an immense pressure suddenly come into being, pushing inwards on her body from all directions. Unwittingly, she’d walked right into his trap. Fortunately for her, the pressure was nowhere near-fatal, only rendering her immobile as she pressed her forearms and legs against the ground in an attempt not to be flattened to the ground. All around her, prismatic energy swirled and pulsed inwards, seeming to caress her form even as it battered her into submission.

“Man, that cannot be pleasant, but while I’ve got a captive audience, did you even have a plan?” Pausing, his grin unrelenting, his eyes glittering faintly with mischief as he stared through the gaps in his mask. “Like, attacking one of the Wards I can see. You get some street cred, some rep, if you will, but attacking their base of operations? That’s just idiotic. What if the local Guardians show up? What if the PRT soldiers respond first and you aren’t equipped for that? How do you deal with consistent reinforcements fighting on their home turf? Like, honestly woman, rub some brain cells together for once in your villainous life.” Shaking his head as she merely growled and grunted from the intense strain required to keep resisting the pressure of his power.

“Tsk.”

Turning away, Caiden waved as he crossed the street and poked his head into the PRT’s office. “Hey, can we get some restraints out here,” he called out in the interest of prompting the so-called adults into action. That said he took up a post to the right of the door leaning against a wall while he kept watch–a bored expression on his features. However, after a few brief moments, Caiden found himself growing bored and so pushed off of the wall and walked over to the edge of his bounded field. Crouching down he got close to eye level with the villainness he’d captured.

“You know, I’m curious, your own power can’t be your favorite. It’s just too…” he made a gesture with his hand, as if to imply that it wasn’t even worth explaining. The woman merely gritted her teeth and spat. He snapped his fingers in response, “Exactly! Wishy-washy. I mean, you villains have got to look up to someone right? Me, personally, I figured that a hero should only aspire towards the best of the best. That said, Guardian’s sort of my jam. I mean, what’s not to love about hyper-potent forcefields, you know?”

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by LostDestiny

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LostDestiny Goldfish Brain

Member Seen 13 hrs ago

LostDestiny

Goldfish Brain

1904 posts

in 3963 days

Seen 13 hrs ago

 
"Yes I am aware my power is gross, no I do not enjoy causing harm to myself, no you may not touch it..."

Alias
Bloodlet 

Nicknames
Walker, Li(Lee) though he hates that one. 

Age
17

Gender
Male

Personality
Lito is rather stand-offish, emotionless, and maybe even a little cruel. Though most of this is due to the fact that Lito isn’t really capable of showing his true emotions. Lito is awkward around others at best, though he does try to come off as friendly sometimes this can be a little…intense. He doesn’t fully understand personal space and either gives people entirely too much space, or  not enough. Despite all this Lito is a deeply caring individual to those who can get past the initial thick shell, even though he might not always show it. 

Appearance
Lito stands at a nice 6 foot 1 inch, with a slender but very slightly muscular build. He sports disheveled fiery red hair and almost sickly pale skin. His yellow eyes often sport a tired or bored expression accompanied by slightly darkened circles. His skin, especially on his arms and hand, is absolutely riddled with various scars. 

His clothing style is equally as disheveled as his hair and pretty boring. Opting more often than not for a simple pair of jeans, an oversized t-shirt, and a hoodie, though when forced into more formal clothing it is almost always wrinkled, and untucked unless someone fixes it for him. 

Though instead of white it’s red. 

Biography

Lito was more or less a street kid, his father did his best but with the two of them in and out of homeless shelters and his father unable to get work due to an injury from an accident shortly after Lito was born that killed his mother, life was not easy. Living on the streets Lito had to learn quickly how to survive. Not just for himself but also to take care of his father. He learned how to steal and how to fight and how to avoid fights fairly quickly. Though it was not without trial and error.

At one point. When Lito was 8 or 9 he had been caught by the cops attempting to steal some food from a grocery store. Upon questioning they decided it would be best if Lito was put into the foster care system. This didn’t last long, Lito had run away from his foster home within a week worried for his father. It took him a few months to find the older man but eventually the two were reunited and Lito went back to providing for the two of them. 

He was much more careful in the years to follow. Begging on the streets for money, dumpster diving, occasional theft when he could, but always careful not to get caught. During this time his father did his best to give Lito a somewhat decent education. At least enough to know the basics, how to read, simple math, the usual. 

[Actual trigger warning ahead: Violence, Blood, Near Death experience]

Lito’s trigger event didn’t happen until he was closer to 14. He and his father had found a decent spot to set up camp for the night and had even managed to scrape together a somewhat decent dinner. As the two were eating a group of burly men walked up to them demanding they hand over everything they had and leave the area. Lito’s father tried to get the teen to simply comply but he didn’t listen. Annoyed by the teen’s audacity they began to move toward him when his father stepped between them. The men decided to teach his father a lesson on raising his kid better first and began to mercilessly beat the injured man while Lito stood there in shock. The men didn’t seem to stop and Lito could see that things were not going to end well for his father if they kept going. He begged the men to stop, telling them they could have what they wanted if they just stopped, but they weren’t listening. Lito, tried to move in to pull the men off his father but he wasn’t strong enough, he was easily batted away by one of the men. In a panic Lito reached for the knife his father normally kept for emergencies only. Cutting himself on the blade in the process. Once again Lito rushes in and once again he is stopped and disarmed. Panicked and helpless, and in tears, Lito wasn’t sure he could save his father who had seemed to lose consciousness at this point. He cried out one last time and this time something happened, the blood seeping from his hand hardened into a spike and lashed out at the men, injuring one of them. In desperation Lito opened another wound on his body and ran at the men, anger in his tear filled eyes. They released Lito’s father and ran, but not before Lito got a solid strike on another of the men. Lito’s attention went to his father as soon as the men were out of eyesight. 

Lito dragged his father’s unconscious body to the nearest hospital where his father went into surgery as his own wounds were treated. Once bandaged and questioned by officers he was once again entered into the foster care system. This time under much closer watch. He attempted to run away several times however he was caught each time. Eventually he gave up, or so it seemed. When the watch on him finally laxed about a year later he was once again on the streets looking for his father. Though this time he was unable to locate his father. 

He spent the next two years on the streets looking, unsuccessfully, as well as learning to use this new power of his. Though he mostly stuck to himself. When news of the Ward program reached his ears he was at their door offering, rather unenthusiastically, to join in exchange for help finding his father and then comfortable living for him if/when he was found.

Powers/Skills

╭─────────╮    ╭─────────╮
Main ClassSub-Class
StrikerBRUTE
╰─────────╯    ╰─────────╯
Lito can manipulate his own blood in a variety of ways. Whether it be to create weapons out of hardened blood or cover parts of his body with it in order to make him more durable. This hardened blood is durable enough to be used to attack however strong enough concentrated power can chip or even completely snap portions off.  In order to do this Lito must have an open wound near the area he wishes to create the desired effect. The wound does not need to be deep it simply has to bleed, but the deeper the wound the more reinforcement for blood creation is. 

Blood Sword: Usually created by opening a wound in the palm of his hands, he can create Sword blades or daggers. 

Blood Scythe: Created by opening larger wounds on his forearms. These require more blood than the sword or the daggers but have a longer reach. 

Blood Armor: Lito opens a wound or uses a pre-existing wound to manipulate the blood into a durable armor around the body part. 

Blood Shield: Lito creates a small round shield from a wound on his forearm (picture Captain America size) which is strong enough to block most standard bullet rounds. 

Lito can create other simple items such as pole-arms or hammers however he doesn’t like to make things that he doesn’t view as effective so opts for the main 4 listed above.

Blood manipulation takes a lot out of Lito. While the blood is hardened he is not in danger of bleeding out but swapping between blood creations can result in large amounts of blood loss. Though Lito can lose quite a bit more blood than a normal person before passing out he will still reach a limit in which his body can no longer handle it. The more wounds on his body the stronger his ability however the more likely it is he will lose consciousness. He also has to be careful as his body can and will lash out on its own if he pushes himself too hard, with no regard for who is friend or foe. 

•Street Smarts
Having spent most of his life on the streets Lito has learned the eb and flow of street life, as well as various shortcuts around the city. Not to mention the knowledge of where and where not to go at certain times or at all if one wishes to stay out of trouble 

•Street Fighting
Lito has had no formal training when it comes to fighting. His fighting style is not nearly as disciplined as it could be but he is good at thinking on his feet and reacting to quick changes. 

•Heightened Pain Tolerance
Lito’s pain tolerance is significantly higher than the average person’s from several years of intentionally causing bodily harm to himself.

NGL my fave power is Gambit’s Kinetic energy manipulation (hehe make things explode)

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by The Man Emperor

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The Man Emperor Europa Undivided/Cattra the Impurrishable

Member Seen 23 hrs ago

The Man Emperor

Europa Undivided/Cattra the Impurrishable

419 posts

in 1579 days

Seen 23 hrs ago

"The stars weep for you. Just kidding, I already forgot your name."

Name: Thelonious Kastrati

Alias: Constellation

Nicknames: Thelony

Age: 17

Gender: A boi

Personality: Thelonious is somewhat awkward, with a pretty quiet disposition and a few words. He is noted to be highly enamored by ‘cute, fluffy animals’, and possesses a keen sense of intuition of trustworthiness. Thelonious is pretty protective of those folks he happens to like, though those that he had a bad experience of could expect to be suddenly abandoned in the middle of a fight. 

Aside from that, Thelonious is incredibly petty. Ruin his day, or his property? He’ll do the same, but he’ll try to make it a bit worse for whoever pissed on his parade. He is pretty much the embodiment of karma in this regard; actions will come back around, so better be nice to the guy, or else you’ll find yourself randomly inconvenienced by small, but infuriating things. Rule of thumb with Thelonious, then, is that he always returns to sender.

Appearance:

Thelonious is 5’3” in height, with markedly Caucasian features, though he gravitates to the somewhat tanner side. His pupils are amber in color, accompanied by black framed glasses. His clothing choices usually gravitate around cloaks and other comfortable, flowing garments. Apparently, he sees it as ‘liberating’. The flat cap seems to be a favorite of his whenever he doesn’t have to use the Cape costume.

As a Cape, he uses a suit that is shielded from the effects of his own stars, such as bright flashes and radiation. The cape on his back has a star pattern on it, which seamlessly blends into the starry sky at night. The vital areas are covered by protective kevlar, while a high grade helmet with a wide visor keeps his head safe. Overall, it is quite comfortable to be in, just as he prefers all clothes to be. It is not the most mobile of outfits, but it serves its purpose.

Biography: Thelonious wasn’t from Redline originally. Nor was he originally a citizen of the United States, either. His earliest memories, at least as far as he is willing to admit, traces back to their apartment in the city of Pristina, Kosovo, as the firstborn son of Selim and Jelena Kastrati. He was not born as ‘Thelonious’ either, but as Valon Kastrati. That is all long behind him, however.

Either way, Thelonious doesn’t remember all too much of his home country, as his family left it when he was five years old due to the highly volatile situation that it was in. They first arrived in New York City, and then moved up further north into Maine, where they finally settled down, somewhat. There, they all changed their first names, though they kept the surname that they had back in Kosovo. Now, though, they faced a whole new world.

As a child, he had the dream of becoming an astronaut, and reaching out towards the stars. Every night, he would look through the telescope, thinking of impossible dreams as typical for someone of such a young age. He knew every famous star and constellation, recognizing them as they shone in the night sky. Thelonious, as he was called since then, had quite a few difficulties with the English language, and was as such bullied for it in school, though that was simply the first reason. Other causes arose, namely because of his lack of aptitude for sports, and other generic reasons.  He was passive though, and simply took it without telling anyone else, as he knew he couldn't fight back against the likes of them. Not like this. He would just get beaten even more. To make matters worse, his mother had been feeling unwell a lot of the time, but she always said that it was just her getting tired at work, which just made Thelonious worry to the point of being nearly physically sick. It seemed that the sorry state of everything was going to stay that way for a very long time.

One day, however, everything changed. Thelonious' mother had fallen ill. All those headaches weren’t just from the stress of work; it was a brain tumour. Alas, they didn't have the money to pay for the medication/medical bills to aid with her situation. She was, in all respects, dying.

In desperation, Thelonious’ father and uncle went to a dangerous, but deceptively friendly connection. They did not know what price they might pay in the process of getting the funds they required, but surely any sacrifice was worth it, if only her life was saved? By this point, Thelonious’ mother’s cancer was close to getting to a terminal stage, and there was little time left before it would begin to be difficult to dislodge. 

That connection that they went to, it turned out, was a group for organized crime, who had them meet outside at night, where the Milky Way itself was visible in the sky. They were apparently willing to provide the money that the Kastratis needed, if only they would do something in return. That something, however, was heinous in its nature. Murderous, even. The boss wanted someone dead, and the assassination was their price. Thelonious father and uncle balked at this. They had expected something that would involve them and themselves alone, but it now seemed that this would be a life for a life. Now that they know who was the target, though, they cannot leave. Not until they say yes to the deal. 

And so, the gangsters took hold of Thelonious’ father and uncle, and began to beat them to submission. The crime lord made him watch, forcibly keeping his eyes open even as he tried to look away. Here, he felt rage, and chaos. Rage at his father for believing that it was a good idea to plead the mafia for aid. Rage at the mafia for what they were now doing, and what they would make them do in exchange for a promise they may never carry out. He managed to close his eyes shut, if only for a moment, and heard only the chaos from his surroundings; the laughing of vicious thugs, the cries of pain, the sounds of blunt implements impacting against flesh. Rage. Disorder. They were all his to bear.

At that moment, an entity that skirted in the dimensions far above the ken of mortal perceptions found a suitable vessel. A shard unraveled, and in a split second, Thelonious was enlightened. He could now create the shiniest of lights, the fiercest of flames. And so, instead of his family being the victims that night, the gangsters were annihilated. Orbs of starlight blinded them, before searing hot orbs set clothing and flesh alight. The chaotic constellation that ensued wiped out the gangsters, purging them from the face of the earth. The gang were all dead, and the Kastrati clan still lived. The money, which had been in a suitcase as a fleeting proof of the deal they could have made, was now theirs for the taking. His mother will live, but at what cost?

Later in the morning, as the Kastratis recovered and spoke to one another about the events of last night, the PRT showed up at their door. PRT investigations found traces of ionized gas within the area of concern, as well as charred bodies belonging to some of the most notorious gangsters in the state. Investigations pinpointed just who these gangsters were supposed to meet at the night, which led them to this moment. It was clear, however, that Thelonious cannot remain in regular society like this. His parents were somewhat resistant to the idea that their only child is to go away from them, but they relented after about a week as the ultimatum became heavier. In exchange for around the clock protection for them, Thelonious was to enter the Wards Program. 

Powers:

Cosmogenesis (Blaster 6): Thelonious produces and channels plasma energy. He is as such able to create and maintain up to four miniature stars at a given time, with three distinct modes that operate in a sliding scale of heat and light. They can move at around 7 to 8 meters per second, with any turns requiring pauses in movement.

Mode 1 (Searing Star): Capable of melting through most metals, as well as turning sand into glass at physical contact. By far the dimmest, but the most potent in terms of destructive potential. These can immolate most materials that they may come across.

Mode 2 (Blinding Star): Little to no destructive capability, but the brightness emanating when it is created acts as a powerful flashbang, temporarily disorienting and blinding those who had not protected their eyes.

Mode 3 (Main Sequence): Seemingly unremarkable, these main sequence stars, as he calls them, are able to sear wood and stone, and can be difficult to look at for prolonged periods. This is the foundation from which the other two derive from in their creation. 

Skills: When he was still unpowered, Thelonious was noted to be a great painter. 
Other: No girlfriend since birth, sadly.

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by Crusader Lord

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Crusader Lord A professional, anxiety-riddled, part-time worker

Member Seen 3 days ago

Crusader Lord

A professional, anxiety-riddled, part-time worker

1869 posts

in 2714 days

Seen 3 days ago

Aurorea

Name: Eleonore Evans 

Alias: Aurorea

Nicknames: Elle, Evie

Age: 16

Gender: Female

Personality: A person with a certain sense of sobriety and maturity when it comes to the use of powers and facing danger. In fact, she is one to look things in the eye once she's steeled her resolve and will face down a charging boar or such without batting an eye if she feels she must. A kind of resolve that, when felt to be most necessary on her part, can keep her standing even when terror or fear or despair would strike deep into her psyche otherwise. A strong sense of will to be sure, one that pushes her to work diligently and hard for generally different reasons than her past once did. Yet this resolve is one that she mainly tries to apply to her work and goals, as she is still very much human. The risk of working herself to the bone or such is very much a realistic thing, and if something got to her badly enough one might see flashes of how she used to be all those years ago. Only flashes, but flashes of a seriously bad time/state all the same. 

She would be the last person to really take a compliment well, though, usually just getting nervous and trying to dismiss herself and her own contributions as simply another person trying their best. Even if her overall state has improved since her triggering at the age of twelve, and a lot of work was behind that in turn, the scars of her past aren't something that would go away in full either. She indeed still has a lower evaluation of herself still, can be prone to making a self-deprecating joke potentially at some point, and tries to retain a sense of sincere humility despite the strength she wields. This lattermost thing is done in part out of a fear of getting too prideful or cocky, though continually undervaluing herself isn’t inherently something good to do either. It leaves her feeling a certain extent lonely or distanced from others in general, even if just by some small yet distinct amount. 

She is definitely more sociable and friendly and such than she once was, and this is something her two surviving friends (who have remained friends with her back home even since the incident) have been able to attest to. Among other people. She can likewise be rather empathetic, however, willing to bend an ear as well as be kind to those about her...agreeing with them or not. However, she will push back if she feels people are trying to take advantage of her or force her into a corner. She can become notably more dogged and angry in such a situation, choosing ‘fight’ instead of ‘flight’ as she once did years ago. 

Appearance: (Two different links are below, just in case.)

Original Link

Imgur Link

Biography:

No matter how good she looked, no matter how hard she tried to learn and do her best at things, it would all never be enough in the end. The most beautiful child in the family, the second most intelligent beyond her genius older sister, and yet it wasn't ever enough. The pressure to succeed above the rest was held over her head each and every day, and yet no matter how much she studied or the programs she was in it was not enough. The best grades, the best performance in every fashion was expected of her. To let down the ever more weighty expectations of her parents was something that would spell the end of herself. It would spell being a failure. A nothing. Becoming nothing. Existing as nothing. A fraud, clad in the visage of something that once had potential. She held up her appearance in front of others well, but behind closed doors with her siblings and around her few close friends the exhausted eyes and depression would emerge in their grim honesty. Those who stuck with her tried to help keep her afloat, but she always felt bad for it. Like she didn't deserve the care or assistance. She felt the love was wasted on her, like she wasn't worth the good things. Life hadn't always been like this, but as she’d gotten old enough the pressures had been ramped up. How had her older siblings survived this? By letting the pressures fall onto her so they could live freer lives. But she couldn't. She couldn't let her younger sibling go through it, but she didn't want to either. 

It was tearing her apart from the inside out, and yet she couldn't see anything in herself but a monster when she looked in the mirror. No matter how much she exercised, no matter how much she did to make herself look good, no matter how much she did to put on the best appearances and graces. Twisted flesh, a famiscile of humanity, a scrap that would one day meet her doom in the endless depths of failure. A grand self-loathing, but one that very much existed nonetheless. Her parents had come from almost nothing, yet had eventually risen to upper-middle-class status through their lives. Yet in their desire to raise their kids to even better lives, to not have to worry about all they’d faced and more, they had placed insurmountable pressures and expectations on them. Pressures and expectations they strictly clung to alongside their fears for their children, blind to the consequences they couldn’t imagine happening and blamed on other factors because they couldn’t handle the alternative.  

Then came the day she went on that school summer trip overseas at the age of eleven, heading to Hong Kong to visit the area. It was in part an escape, a vacation paid for by the parents of the kids on the trip. Seeing a new place, getting new experiences, and what her parents had valued most....visiting a scientific facility tied to some company her parents were hoping for her to eventually work at. Here she was, in a foreign place and far from home, getting away for a bit, and yet she would ultimately learn that her parents would be waiting at the airport on the last day to be chaperones for the group’s trip home. It would send her into a small panic, there on the morning of the last day of the trip, all after she had been relaxing a bit with her friends and had begun to unwind. But no, she’d heard the other chaperones in the hall discussing it.  

Yet just as she stepped out with a couple of friends to get some fresh air, mostly at their urging before they all had to go to the airport, what had once been a peaceful but busy morning would turn sour in a heartbeat. Disaster, as it were, would come to her this time-...

…

…

…

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{{CLASSIFIED INFORMATION SEGMENT DETECTED}}

{{INFORMATION SEGMENT ORIGIN - HONG KONG HERALD EVENT: PROGENY - 20XX}}

{{High-Level Authorization Required To View This Sealed File}}

{{CONTINUE?}}

{YES / NO}

At approximately 1015 hours/10:15 am, HERALD #001 was first sighted appearing within Hong Kong. Its arrival was swift and destructive, leveling approximately five city blocks and resulting in no less than {REDACTED} civilian and {REDACTED] cape deaths before it was driven off. These are among the worst casualty numbers resulting from a Progeny Event in the last half-century, though the city has been found to be in a salvageable state. See “Aftermath Report #5” for recommendations for remediation and rebuilding plans.

Subject “Evans, Eleanore” was discovered lying in the rubble of a building, the only survivor found aside from two other teenage girls trapped under the rubble only a few dozen meters away. Subject was missing their left leg at and below the knee, and follow-up medical examination of the subject as well as later subject testimony has confirmed  having torn off the badly damaged leg portion in their haste to escape from under a chunk of debris. The blood trail leading from this point suddenly ends, however, rather than lead all the way to the subject’s end location. Building damage indicates a high-impact landing before crashing through the dense building walls, something unable to be survived by a human being and capable of punching through multiple building walls. Subject, based on this and confirmation of the subject's parahuman capabilities and lack of them prior to the incident, is thought to have triggered and become parahuman during the attack rather than prior to contact made with HERALD #001. 

Subject physical trauma was notable, but was discovered unconscious. Suspected mental traumas prior to the event. The subject's lost leg portion had also sealed up to stop bleeding by the time of discovery, but in a rough and still dangerous manner requiring medical treatment and surgery to fully stabilize after the subject’s discovery and recovery from Site {REDACTED} at {REDACTED}. 

Initial parahuman testing suggests a high-grade power and multiple capabilities, and as such greater study of the subject and more extensive rehabilitation efforts are strongly recommended. The subject could pose a serious danger if left without further study or care, given the nature of their powers. A cape should be posted near the room at all times in case of a subject having another panic incident, as occurred after they first awoke as detailed in {REDACTED}, Section Four of this Case File. Therapy is also highly recommended to seek improvement in the subject's mental state.

{[END OF CLASSIFIED INFORMATION SEGMENT}}

Her parents and herself, even her two friends, would be found as survivors in the aftermath of the attack. Among others. Yet they were the lucky ones compared to most of the field trip’s members. After two months of care and observation, she would be allowed to go back home with her parents after they’d stayed around to be with her. After she and the other survivors all made their way back home, arriving at a small celebration held for them at the airport, a memorial would be held for the dead only a week later. Not all showed up for it, but she and her parents were noted as being among those who were capable of doing so. 

From here life would change, even change everything she'd known before. Her parents, herself, everything. The pain and ache of those years of stress, lots of ensuing therapy both mental and physical, parahuman counseling and power practice, and lots of talking with her own folks about things long kept buried on both sides of the gap. All out in the open over the next six years. It would take several years of notable work and effort, but by the time she turned 17 years old her mental state would find itself a far call from back then or prior. Likewise her parents and family would be very much changed, and for the first time in years they could speak with one another in ways they never had been able to before. Even so, the scars and lessons of the past were not things any of them could ignore…they would last for a lifetime. But from this would come learning. And from learning strength.

Eventually she would put in to join the Wards, the desire to build up more good in the world by using what she could do having come to the forefront of her mind. In fact, it had become her own goal that even her parents wholly supported. Her own chosen path. It was something she’d have never been able to dream of or imagine at the age of eleven, and yet now it was a reality. A grim one, but a reality. However, the flow of some last-second paperwork and forms would put a wrench in the works. In the end it would delay her joining up with the rest of her peers, much to her chagrin, though it has not dulled her intent or goals at the very least.  

Power: 

{{Classification: Breaker (Brute 9/Thinker 6/Mover 3)}}

Activating her power, Eleanore takes on an idealized form of herself. Gorgeous, curvaceous and impossible to ignore. Literally glowing, her eyes an unnatural, but stirring orange-gold. Sculpted, yet at once not unappealingly muscular, this form--upon close inspection--is not actually composed entirely of flesh. Instead, exotic veins of orange-gold crystal draw intricate patterns across her visage. Clothes/costume/belongings are included into the form when she shifts (including her prosthetic leg). Her eyes likewise glitter unnaturally with refracted light. 

While in this state, any wounds, including lost limbs, are replaced entirely by crystalline matter. Painless in this state, Eleanore gains a form of super strength and drastically enhanced durability. Yet, rather than be physically immovable, she is rendered lighter than air and so permeable to energy--kinetic or otherwise--that attacks simply diminish as they strike or pass through her. As a side effect of this, Eleanore is also capable of willingly/passively ignoring forces that would typically act on her person, such as gravity, allowing her a form of highly maneuverable--like 20 mph max speed--flight. 

Finally, Eleanore's power affords her two other subtle, if potent, abilities:

The first of these makes her hyper aware of her body and the attention of the presence of everyone and everything around her. Functionally this amounts to extreme bodily awareness/control and a precise understanding of anything occupying space within a small 4 meter radius of her person.
Additionally--and particularly subtle--is the fact that her power gives her preternatural memory and learning efficiency. While this has no clear effect at first, it can result in the ability to rapidly adapt to situations, combat or otherwise.

However, all this power comes at a steep price for while she can remain in her breaker form for an exceptionally long time, when she exits it her power exacts its cost. Non-fatal injuries reappear and her bodily awareness takes time to fade, resulting in often debilitating pain. The limb she lost during her trigger is once more gone, the crystal that replaced it in her breaker state, dissolving into nothing. Yet, though not a discrete or obviously power-related effect, the crushing weakness of her physical and mental capabilities comes rushing back as soon as she exits her form. All that proficiency, coordination and competence gone, she's returned to her pitiable all-too-human state and as if her trigger wasn't years behind her...the emotions come rushing back. 

While these effects fade with time, they tend to lend the user towards maintaining their breaker state as often as possible to avoid them. 

Yet, if overused, the state itself begins to warp. The beauty becomes inhuman with extensively prolonged use (days or many hours), taking on an uncanny valley sort of effect as it subtly twists over time. Coordination and awareness of her person becomes...unreliable, failing unpredictably. Awareness of one's surroundings becomes crushing, twisting to make her aware of people's every movement, their gaze, their attention as it pushes her mind to remembering the judging gaze of her parents. 

After all, you know what they say. Great power comes with great responsibilities...and in this case, that responsibility is crushing.

Thinker Types: Farsight X Proficiency

Farsight: Awareness extending beyond usual limits and ranges of normal senses.  Triggers from tunnel vision in views or character, incorrect perceptions/views.

Proficiency: Thinker power operates via. enhanced or manipulated skill or talent.  Trigger from competence-driven dilemmas and crises.
Brute Types: Muscle X Intensity

Muscle brutes offer raw mass and offensive tools.
They manifest from physical, focused damage to a part and struggle.

Intensity brutes offer raw elemental power and defensive tools.
They trigger from energy-based, focused damage to a part and pain.
Breaker Type: Atropos.

Enters a breaker state, transforming to an idealized, attractive alternate self, gaining a different appearance, proportions, improved stats and access to a powerset/general breaker benefit.  Outside of breaker form, suffers detriments that offset bonuses, with ongoing drawbacks (mutation or personality flaw).  

If civilian-powered life balance isn’t maintained, the subject may see things crumble around the idealized form with the breaker form becoming long term or permanent as well as perverse in interpretation, with the ongoing drawback from the civilian form bleeding into it and ultimately taking it over.

If ya get punted, just drop back to normal Gs so ya plummet. Or redirect the momentum with your flight.

Skills: 

Cooking - Is actually a very good if not also naturally talented cook in general, for someone of her age or not, in part due to the years of classes before her triggering and then years afterward under better conditions. Can be said to be a form of stress relief for her, once a coping mechanism of the past that has become a more healthily-managed one by current times. But if you see her stress baking three dozen cookies, or something extraordinary like that whilst she is on her own or not making them for some occasion or intent, check if she’s ok…she is most likely stressed out about or focusing a bit too much on something.
Music - The violin and piano are her instruments of choice, having been drilled in them and even now having some rather solid skills with them for her age. Picked up the former of her own volition after years of stressful classes with the latter, though with time and work with therapy the latter came to finally become something she does enjoy and practices as well by current times. Not as good at music as she is at cooking by a distinct margin, but she still enjoys it.
Video games - A newer hobby, one picked up after the incident and getting back home with her parents. Life became better, more relaxed, and she took up
Exercise - A thing she did as part of her life before the trigger event, but likewise worked with years of therapy into something she finds relaxing and wants to keep up with in a healthy manner. A far healthier manner than she once did at an even younger age. Took up swimming where she used to only do running, and whilst she does use a treadmill these days she has become a more solid swimmer and used it to learn how to help control and pace her breathing.

Other:

Her favorite pets are cats.
Her favorite food ranges from spicy far-eastern fare to savory Italian and Italian-American dishes. When it comes to cooked food at home versus takeout, most seem to be surprised when she notes not minding it at all whatsoever either way.
The beach is her favorite place to go for vacation.
Wears a very well-covering but simple/durable mask before transforming, as she looks far different in her Breaker state and it hides her identity fully, which is integrated into her Breaker form by the power itself and hides her appearance when she de-transforms.
Height = 171cm

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Alias: Avalon

Name: Ava Watson

Age: 25

Loyalty: Hero/Guardian

Gender: Female

Height: 6’0 or 183cm

Weight: 188lbs or 85.3kgs

Appearance:

Civilian - Ava is a tall Caucasian woman standing at 6’ even and weighing 178lbs. She’s been gifted with what we’ll call ‘great genetics’ and has a clear background in sports, that or she’s just been running around as a cape for a while, maybe both, either way, she’s built. She has long black hair that she keeps just tidy enough for it to not cover her face, her eyes are a bright amber colour with slit pupils. When asked about her eyes she just lies and says that she got contact lenses on.

She likes all-black clothes, leaning more in favour of long pants and sleeves if given the choice, but if the weather is particularly hot she’ll resign her preference and wear shorts and short sleeves. Though regardless of the heat she’ll always keep something on that’ll cover up her right calf, nobody needs to see her jellyfish sting marks.

Cape - Avalon’s costume is a dark grey armoured bodysuit that’s designed to have a moderate amount of elasticity given the nature of her powers. The armour is mat white and is almost always polished, the plates of armour are slotted onto the bodysuit in a way that allows them to separate when necessary allowing the elasticity of the bodysuit to hold everything together. She has a helmet that’s outfitted with a basic communicator and has an emergency protocol to automatically pop off her head if it detects Avalon is getting too large to fit into it anymore.

Biography:
“Wait so you want me to write all this shit down, on pen and paper so you’ve got it on record? Fucken’... Fine. It isn’t going to be any less vulgar. In fact, it’ll be worse!... Fucken prick… Okay so, where do I start? Umm… I guess from the beginning.”

It all started I was born and raised in Darwin, the place is hot as balls. You could cook an egg on a playground slide if you didn’t mind it tasting like ass. The heat didn’t stop me from joining the boxing and basketball teams in school though, I kicked ass by the way. Sports were great and all but While I did love sports, nothing could top biology and environmental science, knowing how and why animals did shit was fucking awesome. After school I got a job in a

“Fucken cross that shit out and boom that should do for that bit, nobody gives a shit about what I did as a civilian. They just want cape shit… I guess I gotta talk about that time. Fuck.”

Have you ever been stung by a box jellyfish? Well as someone who got stung by three of the bastards I’ll be the first to tell you. THAT SHIT FUCKING SUCKS! imagine if you will. Someone injected molten steel underneath your skin and just left the needle in you, you’re unable to remove the needle because if you do it’ll inject the same shit into your hand, add on the fact that you’re body has tensed up and you're unable to move because of fucking paralysis. Yeah, that wasn’t how me and the girls envisioned that night going. Look before you leap kids…

“Okay next up hmm… Probably my career in Darwin. Hmm, how do I word this without mentioning-ugh that?… Fuck it.”

This part is Darwin is a pretty small city all things considered, so I didn’t get up to much shit while I was there. The place is practically a fucken gas station compared to a city like Redline, so it was kinda just me and a stupid bitch select few others.  playing whack-a-mole with superpowered villains. Badguy shows up, I put them in hospital they aren’t a problem anymore, it was pretty simple. Shit got boring though so I moved to Redline. Plus my comrades can cover Darwin without me.

“Now that shit’s out of the way, onto the crap they’re probably familiar with.”

Blah blah blah, aggravated assault with a parahuman power bad. Blah blah blah, methods too violent to be allowed. Fucken pussies so you guys kicked my ass and set me up with your Redline’s guardians group. I mean the company isn’t bad but like, I’d hard smash like every guardian here being honest. I would be better off on my own for sure. Give me a few weeks and the mutants would be fucked. But no Assushi Fuckhead had to rope me in. Also, I’m putting it here on record, I kicked loads of ass before you guys started messing with my shit. 

“Yeah that works. And if the director doesn't like he can suck a fat one.”

Personality

General:
Australian - Ava is the thunder from down under and isn’t shy about it, in fact, she takes pride in her heritage and will be more than happy to talk to people about her home country. And since she’s only recently moved to America she’s still carrying a lot of her Australian ‘quirks’. Excessive vulgar language and weird slang are ingrained into her head. If you asked she’d give you a top ten of her favourite curse words. “Fuckin’ oath.”

Jokester - Ava loves to mess around and generally makes fun in 90% of situations. Fighting a villain? Oh, you bet she’s cracking jokes and talking some mad shit. Someone says ‘but’ or anything that could be vaguely considered as toilet humour she’s got a chance of chuckling under her breath. She is very rarely serious when she says anything, though when she’s serious, you’ll know. “What? Come on that was a good one.”

Permissive - Ava is loose both in how she enforces and follows rules, she sees most rules as loose guidelines and this outlook has gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion. This isn’t to say that she dislikes people who enforce the rules, but she just finds them to be a bit of a drag. “I only bend the rules a little.”

Fists rated E for Everyone - Ava is incredibly stubborn and always ready for a fight. If you give her enough of a reason she will throw hands. Obviously, it isn’t her first choice but if you’ve pissed her off enough and she can feasibly get you into a fighting ring with her, she’ll try to. “Some messages need to be beaten into someone.”

Prideful - While it isn’t always on display Ava has a high opinion of herself and when people attempt to refute her image she can react ‘poorly’. This is mainly just a problem when people challenge her or insinuate that she’s weak in some way. This can and has led to her getting punchy. “Sorry I don’t know if I heard you right? Mind repeating that?”

Derangement:
Bad doctor - Ever since Ava’s trigger she’s become desensitised to pain, not just her own but that of those around her. This inability to recognize the severity of the wounds she takes normally isn’t an issue, it’s more when she’s unable to realise how brutally she’s beating her opponents that issues arise. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

Parahumanism

Skill:
Boxing - Ava used to do boxing but left the sport once she triggered knowing full well her power would give her an unfair advantage. But that hasn’t stopped her from keeping on practising her form. Normally she doesn’t use her boxing skills in a parahuman fight, but if she feels the fight is a significant threat she might just bust out the boxing moves.

Animal knowledge - Ava has always been fond of animals and growing up in the same country as the legendary Steve Irwin leaves an impression on you. This isn’t to say she knows why a Rainbow Lorikeet is coloured the way it is or why Cassowary is so angry, but she knows things.

Pain tolerance - Ava’s been scraping as an overconfident regen brute for a while so she’s become rather familiar with pain. It’s not to say she doesn’t feel it more that she’s learnt to deal with it and isn’t usually hampered by it during combat.

Classification: Striker 7 (Striker)

Mechanics: Ava’s body functions as a living battery able to absorb, store and distribute electrical energy through touch, she’s able to sense how much energy is in her reserves at any given time. She cannot output and absorb electricity simultaneously, and if an outside source of electricity hits her she is forced to absorb it (taser, exposed wire or electricity blaster). Her body is fueled by the electrical energy making her immune to fatigue and removing her need to sleep, eat, drink or breathe as long as she has reserves remaining to draw from, if she does choose to eat her body also converts energy produced by eating the food and puts it into her electrical energy reserves, the gains are equivalent to the energy she’d get from the food normally. In the circumstance that Ava ever used up her reserves entirely, she would pass out, waking after a good while, though she can be roused early if she’s given some more energy to work with.

Ava’s energy reserves have a cap that can be maintained indefinitely as long as she doesn’t need to regenerate. 

Ava’s physical strength and durability increase as her energy reserve fills up. Her enhanced strength and durability do not cost any reserves to maintain and when her reserves are full she’s able to lift and throw ten tonnes one hundred meters, bend metals and punch hard enough to make most opponents reconsider their life choices. Durability wise Ava would be tough enough to ignore small arms fire without suffering any damage and trade blows with brutes of equivalent strength without 
being turned into silly putty. Additionally, she also gains a foot in height and almost 100 pounds when her reserves are at their peak
Ava is able to expend energy reserves to heal wounds, superficial wounds like grazes and shallow cuts won’t be healed automatically but large or lethal wounds will. The rate of the healing is adaptive based on the severity of the wound, so when a wound is at its worst it will be healed faster, it is fast enough to stabilise most wounds ranging from being impaled to being severed down the middle. Obviously, things like total body vaporisation and her head being turned into a fine red mist can’t be recovered from.

Ava is able to overcharge herself if she absorbs more energy than her reserves are built to hold. Overcharging herself allows her to enhance her strength, size and durability beyond what she is able to normally with a currently unknown upper limit. The trade-off for this extra boost is that the effects are only temporary, as any amount of energy that is above her regular reserves bleeds out over time, and whatever state she ends up in after she’s absorbed enough energy to overcharge will be shortlived 10 minutes at most without any recharging.

Equipment:

Suit and helmet - Ava’s costume itself is a special piece of equipment given its ability to accommodate her power to a certain degree. Needless to say, she didn’t make it herself, and much to her suitmaker's dismay tends to get it damaged on the regular. She also has rubber soles on her suit so that she can maintain her charge in certain situations.

Favourite power: Gotta be shapeshifting, like full-on free shapeshifting. Who doesn’t want to be a dinosaur?

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