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Name: T'Challa
Alias: The Black Panther
Age: 22 years of age.
Gender: Male
Role: Field Leader
Previous Affiliation: Formerly, he was a part of the Avengers.
Power(s):
After rigorous training for the majority of his rather fulfilling life, T'Challa has since achieved peak human ability within his body. Only after eating the heart-shaped herb, has his body transcended peak human ability, and has since transcended into superhuman limits. His strength, speed, stamina, durability, agility, reflexes, and healing are all at superhuman levels, allowing him to perform feats and accomplish things that no human could ever hope to match. 

His strength allows him to throw fully grown men with absolute ease, tear metal asunder with his bare hands, and even go physical blow to blow with superhuman foes. His speed, endurance, and agility are both likewise enhanced, with T'Challa being able to attack faster than the eye can see, and even blitz trained gunmen before they could pull the trigger. T'Challa's agility, balance, flexibility, dexterity, and bodily coordination are the combined agility and acrobatic prowess of the most accomplished circus aerialists and acrobats. His reflexes are so efficient that he can dodge and deflect point blank gun fire, and dodge bullets from machine guns and sniper rifles. 

T'Challa is able to regenerate injured tissue and brain cells to an extraordinary degree, heal broken bones, torn muscles, but is unable to regenerate missing limbs or organs. He is immune to all Earthly diseases, infections and disorders, impervious to gas attacks, poisons, and nerve-toxins of any kind and completely resistant to diseases. Similarly, T'Challa's skin, bone, and muscle tissues are augmented to levels that are considerably stronger and harder than humans.

T'Challa can see with greater clarity and greater distances than an ordinary human. His vision extends into the ultraviolet and infrared areas of the electromagnetic spectrum, allowing him to see in near-total darkness and retain the same level of clarity. T'Challa's hearing is similarly enhanced, enabling him to detect sounds normal humans can't and sounds they ordinarily could but at much greater distances. T'Challa can memorize tens of thousands of scents. His sense of smell enables him to recognize people/objects by scent, even if they are well hidden. He can track a target by scent and track them to the exact location, can smell fear, and detect if someone is lying by change in body odor. T'Challa's sense of taste is sensitive to the point that he is able to taste the exact ingredients of any particular food he is eating.

Skills:
A polymath super genius with a photographic memory, T'Challa is young, but incredibly smart, already ranking as one of the eight smartest people on Earth. He already has three PhDs in different subjects from Oxford University, and his genius is recognized by some of the greatest minds in these day and age. Because of his sharp brain and experience with leading the Wakanda Military, T'Challa is a genius tactician, strategist, and leader, and will continue to develop these skills as he grows older. He was taught tactics and strategies in his youth by his father who encouraged him to always think two steps ahead of his enemies and three steps ahead of his friends. 

As far as combat goes, T'Challa has been groomed to be a warrior from birth. An expert in almost all forms of armed and unarmed combat, and a master of all martial arts including African and unknown forms. He is an expert of stealth, disguise, ambush, etc. Due to his already prodigious ability, and his limitless potential, he has been recognized and is highly respected by some of the world's best heroes and villains, despite his very young age. His abilities allows him to defeat other strong beings in both one vs one, and group combat, with T'Challa attacking in a frenzy of dangerous moves and techniques. He uses a mixture of animal mimicry, and a melting pot of other dangerous martial art forms when he fights. This, combined with his dangerous equipment, truly makes T'Challa a lethal opponent.

Equipment:
The Black Panther suit is made of a vibranium microweave mesh. It can negate and/or lessen powerful kinetic based attacks such as bullets shots, penetrating blades, and crushing blows. The lenses in the mask cuts visual glare, and enhances the Panther's natural night vision. The lenses also allows him to see in infra-red and other visual spectrum. 

The golden, retractable claws in the gloves and boots are made of Antarctic Vibranium-based "Anti-Metal" that can break down basically all metals at the molecular level. The claws also have the ability to emit small energy blades from the tip, as well as launch them as projectiles [See above image].

Energy regulators creates varying fields from the Vibranium in the molded soles of the boots of his suit, enabling Panther to survive a fall of incredible heights and land like a cat. The Panther can also scale walls or skim across water with the boots. The field can be also used offensively to shatter or weaken objects, or defensively to rob incoming objects of their momentum. 

T'Challa also possess vibranium energy daggers;; an ornate hilt carved of ivory, connected to an energy-generated blade that can be set to stun or kill. The energy blades can be handled like either a physical knife or fired like darts, and regenerated repeatedly. They can also be shaped into other various weapons like a spear, by connecting the knives by the hilts. 

The cloak connected to his suit can be elongated, shortened or eliminated with a thought, and the entire costume can be covered by the cloak, which can then be digitally transformed into everday clothes.

T'Challa also has the Kimoyo Card within his possession, an extremely powerful and versatile PDA. It functions similarly to the SHIELD's communicards, but with many more practical applications.


Personality: Calm, focused, intelligent.

History: The advanced and prosperous nation of Wakanda...Glorious, prosperous, and ruled by the almighty and skilled T'Chaka. A military commander, the King of the Nation, and the then powerful and prodigious Black Panther, the man obviously had a lot going for him. When there was signs of his wife being pregnant with his first and only son, the one and only T'Challa, he was overjoyed, finally having a worthy heir to his golden throne. His duties as the Black Panther was finally relinquished, in favour of fully committing his time to serving his Nation, and raising his son to be the best of the best - to eventually take over his legacy. As it was, this was how T'Challa was raised - as the best of the best. Born to be a warrior, king, and hero, T'Challa was put to the test as soon as it became physically efficient to do so. Exercise, conditioning, weaponry training, unarmed training, educational tutoring;; it was all gone over and nailed into the young prodigy's head, with hardly any playtime. Sure, he had peace of mind - fitful rests and a luxurious life whenever he was not training, but other than that, life was very stressful - only the natural duty of protection that T'Challa possessed kept him from burning out.

Due to his training and skill, T'Challa took his own Rite of Passage at the young age of ten, sent out to roam the land in search of his own inner peace. As he explored the wilderness, over the months, T'Challa kept up his training - now a routine that his body instinctively does, while also meeting interesting and dangerous characters throughout his journey. Months turned to two years, and eventually, T'Chaka sent out scouts to find, track, and bring home his son. They found T'Challa within the unscouted wilderness North of Wakanda, deep within the jungle, accompanied by two large, wild black panthers. The boy only wielded a rudimentary spear and two daggers, all forged out of a durable and sharp metal that was quite common within the caves near Wakanda. He was eating the carcass of a sabre-tooth tiger - the Wakanda soldiers couldn't even approach the campfire, in fear of the growling panthers that seemed quite ready to rip out their throats. Eventually, T'Challa came back with the scouts, and was debriefed by his father, who was both proud and angry at his son for taking so long. The councilmen of the Wakanda Government saw fit to test T'Challa survival skills within the rings, to see if he truly gained the killer instinct and inner peace he seemed to have developed whilst within the wilds. The thirteen year old promptly defeated, with extreme efficiency, all of the competitors, be it if they grouped on him, or if it was simply a fair, one vs one duel. They were grown men - soldiers of the Wakanda army, and a child managed to defeat them. Although humbled, they were proud of their prince, and after the fights were over, T'Challa was praised within the Halls. Time passed, and his life continued in it's destined direction.

Now within his teenage years, T'Challa took a break from the Kingdom and his constant training, to visit the American continent, on political immunity. There, he met major government officials with his father, and made many allies with his maturity and natural intelligence. Of course, assassins were sent his way, but with both his personal guards and his own skills, each assassin was defeated promptly, and either killed or arrested. In the American lands, T'Challa visited many different universities, expanding his already broad knowledge in different areas and subjects, but eventually, he settled down in Oxford University, learning many different arts and sciences, before finally earning his own PhD - and then, coming back only a year later to earn two more in other subjects. This feat, documented and praised, was something virtually unheard of, surpassing even Tony Stark's own record by a few years. While the technological genius, Stark, graduated a university at the age of seventeen, T'Challa finished three different PhDs at the age of fifteen, before going back to his country and leaving the American press impressed and awed.

It was at this point in his life, that tragedy began to rear it's ugly head. His father was murdered, in cold blood, by a man known as 'Klaw'. A long-time enemy to the Wakanda throne. It was done over a battle about the extremely rare metal known as 'Vibranium', located only within Wakanda itself. Struck by grief and mourning, T'Challa allowed his mother to take temporary reign of the country, whilst he took ample time to grieve, before training himself even harder, with one goal in mind - vengeance. He left Wakanda for a couple of years, extending his training to many different countries and nations throughout the world, while his country waited patiently for the Prince to return. Eventually, he did, and committed himself to the journey of the King. To find the sacred Heart-Shaped herb, and become the Black Panther, and the King of his Tribe. He was eighteen years old, and completely ready for the task. Whilst searching, he was captured by an army of A.I.M. soldiers, an organized group of international science-terrorists, angered and frustrated by the Wakanda's constant rejection towards funding their inhumane experiments. Whilst imprisoned, T'Challa was going to be executed by his once dear friend, whom changed his mind at the last minute and helped the young Prince with escaping. Joined together, they utilized stealth and ambush tactics to completely eviscerate the A.I.M. army, who then retreated from the unknown adversaries, leaving behind the herb that they had found and kept hidden away - the one that would grant T'Challa what he was destined for. As he brought the herb back to his camp, he was going to consume the herb, only to be sneak-attacked by the Black Panther of the time, an unknown adversary. His former comrade that helped him defeat the A.I.M. soldiers had went back to Wakanda to confess for his crimes, and so, T'Challa defeated the Black Panther on his own, as it should have been, before taking his rightful spot as the new Black Panther.

He returned to Wakanda, to enormous applause, and a nation-wide parade and celebration in his honor. The new King of Wakanda, and the new Black Panther.  There, his life of being a King, and a hero to mankind, began.

Theme Song:Iron

Other/Notes:T'Challa is a young man of 6'2", weighing in at 210lbs. He has a noticeable accent, but his English and grammar are both immaculate, and his accent only adds character, without making his speech garbled or confusing.

A steel blade, medium-length and razor-sharp, was connected to a black, cold metallic hilt, was gripped in the gloved black fist of one dark, shadowy figure, who seemed to suck in any of the dusty light that the basement's single lightbulb gave away. The blade seemed more like a machete, if anything - just a bit slimmer and light-weight, but around the same length and design. The blade's tip was currently resting on the soft, grime-marked skin of one clean-shaven man, who seemed to be dressed in SCAR's default battle outfit, sans any head-protecting armor. He was also unconscious, chained down by heavy-duty links that connected to the ceiling. The tip of the blade pressed slightly deeper, drawing blood, and quickly waking the man up. "What- Where-...Where am I?! Who-" As his foggy eyes clouded up, the man noticed something that he hadn't noticed before - the slight glint of a skull-white mask...he promptly felt his heart freeze, his mouth yammering the same two vowels, over and over. His blood was boiling and freezing at the exact same time. The man that had captured him...he was...he was...

"Cri-Cri-Cri-"

A deep, disembodied voice - perhaps the work of a voice modulator? - sounded out one word...or number, rather. "One..."

The prisoner's eyes widened even more, if possible, and he began to spasm, having an anxiety attack at the sudden shock of the assassin's intimidatingly cold and emotionless voice. "W-What do you want? Why are you counting?"

"Two..."

"Please! Please, oh God. I don't know anything! I'm just a soldier!"

"Three...."

"Please-!"

"Four..."

"C-Crisis, please, I beg-"

"Five."

The fleshy sound of a head impacting with the floor was the only other sound that was heard within the room, and then, a nearly silent sigh, and the almost silent sound of the blade being sheathed on Crisis' back, criss-crossed with the other blade of the exact same design. The assassin stepped out of the light, revealing his form to the now decapitated body. Tall, clearly lean and muscular despite the intimidating, light-weight armor he wore. A bone-white skull mask sent chills throughout the body of any who saw or heard of it, and with multiple frightening, lethal weapons both hidden and showcased on his body, it's clear that the rumors about him was not all talk and unproven. Crisis twisted on his heel walking towards the rusted ladders that would get him out of the torture basement and into his own cell - if it could even be called that. He climbed the rungs, leaping out of the hole and easily covering it back up with the metal grate that kept it locked away from any onlookers. The body would be gone by the night. It always was.

His 'cell' was a relatively...spartan and grim place. With dark, concrete walls, a simple cot, and a mahogany-wood work table with a bunch of different instruments and devices on the surface, it honestly held all that he needed. Of course, with only a flip of a hidden button, his armory would be shown behind one of the concrete walls, holding multiple racks of different weaponry, from fire-arms, to blades, to shurikens, to knives, and even things that he was still working on. That was a tale for another day, however.

At the sound of the Warden's voice within his mask, Crisis stopped the cleaning and sharpening of his blades, strapping them to his back and heading towards the psycho female's cell. He still did not understand why they kept her on their little...'team', but he did not question the Warden's methods. The female was clearly unhinged, and she wasn't especially spectacular in combat - at least, from what he has seen of her. Her uses were still unknown to the masked assassin.

He slipped in without her noticing - his stealth abilities trumped even superhuman senses. Speaking from the shadows, his voice modulator causing each word to be frightening in their own right, Crisis addressed the girl. "You're needed in the Warden's office. Do not hesitate. I will escort you there." But he did not show himself. She would need to be escorted - he did not want the workers to be distracted by the female lollygagging around.

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