Hello, I was just curious if there would be room for one more person? If so I had an idea for a Supergirl or Homelander like character but alot weaker, or perhaps someone who can embed metal into their body to make a grotesque suit of armour? Perhaps they could have some sort of magnetism as well?
Mm...Truth be told, probably not. We've already got quite a few people; more than I'd already bargained for. I've just been forgetting to update the status here lol. Sorry to break that news though. If someone ends up leaving though, we could see about getting ya in here.
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?
Fashionista watched, beaming with pride in both The Wards and her own work, as they strode back out clad in their new Cape-garb. They all just looked so good in it! Even Carmen, who she could tell (somewhat unsurprisingly; the cost of sticking strictly to what the middle-schooler had laid out for her) wasn't fully appreciating hers. They could talk though; there was always room for improvement in anything, costumes included.
Hearing all the kids heaping praise onto her, Rachel gave a joking roll of her eyes. "Alright, alright; enough buttering me up for now. You all look great! And since someone decided to give them a test run..." She casts a side glance to Caiden, more teasing than anything else. "...I'll tell you upright, so you don't get ahead of yourselves. Yes, the costumes are pretty darn tough, courtesy of me, but you're far from invincible. They can all turn a knife away or absorb most of the shock from a blunt object. Maybe even stop some low-caliber bullets....But don't test that." At that last sentence, she gains a serious edge to her tone, looking across the group to ensure it's understood.
"I'm afraid that they won't stop some of the things you may come up against, so remember to be careful. I trust you all to be smart and stay out of excess danger. Are we clear?" You could practically feel the Mom energy in her closing words, sternly passing her gaze upon the children. She didn't want to suddenly seem mean or strict, but it was important that they understood at least this much.
Satisfied, she turned her attention to the last arrival; the ironclad Jane, of course, with a powersuit that, admittedly, Rachel was quite proud to have a hand in....However small it was. She couldn't stop the smile that crept over her even if she wanted to, watching their combined efforts bear the fruit of locomotion. Though...She didn't expect what happened next, that being Beverly's abrupt collapse.
Blinking away her stunned condition, the Vice Director gave Wilbur the hand he needed...Though even with his help, it was a struggle. Fashionista knew Bev's kit would complicate matters if it came to extraction with her extra baggage, but it wasn't just that. Heaving the girl up, she could feel the unbelievable tension in her muscles, almost as stiff as boards. No amount of simple stress would cause this. Had she not slept well the past night? Or...Was it something more?
Letting the concern slip to the side for the time being, Workshop was back on her feet, her dazed eyes flittering open as she found her footing once more. "Oh! Easy now, Bev. You had a bit of a spill....You feeling alright?" The teen managed to give a nod, slowly straightening herself up once more. With a sigh of relief, Rachel slowly relinquished her grasp of her, allowing her to stand on her own.
With everyone settled once more, Fashionista looked upon the group with a small smile. "Okay! There's one other major area I need to show to our prospective Tinkers, so in the meantime, I think someone owes you all an explanation..." Beckoning The Wards once more, she rounds her way out of the Changing Room to confront the Director once more.
Date/Time:November 11th, 2022. 6:12 PM.
Location(s):Redline PRT Headquarters
'Fuck. Me.'
Those two words went through the Director's head as he hung up with the Guardians. Without time to spare, he was already jumping to the next big hurdle...Paperwork. Virtual paperwork, that is. Written copies could be handled by some desk jockeys, but since he was the one privy to the oh-so-gracious foresight from the Think Tank, he could at least prep some of the necessities for what was to come. Damage assessments for both the museum and mayor's abode (as, no doubt, damage would be dealt somehow....), reparations for said damages, and more. The miserable monotony that is impermeably attached to his work. Still, the earlier it was handled, the more time he'd have to handle these brats and, if he was lucky, teach them something useful before they're shoved out into a burning hellscape.
He found his work interrupted by a voice; female, but not the one he'd anticipated. Whirling around in his seat and casually sliding the datapad away, he found himself face-to-face with...Memento. Huh. The barest notion of surprise, the slightest arch of a brow, was present seeing this. 'Just about the last one of them I'd expect to come to me with something.' He thought to himself, as curious as he was annoyed; which is to say, to both, not very much.
Yeah, her question left something to be desired. With a sigh, he looked Morie in the eyes, locking onto them. "Morgan. You're a smart kid, so I don't think you need me to answer that question." He left her question of 'danger' at that, but chose to elaborate some more on her request of a clone. "As for a copy...Simple enough. We'll have Rachel stop by with your costume and get you suited up before you head out. But for the time being, you should..."
He found himself cut off, as Fukuda stared past Morie to see the gaze of Rachel, with the entourage of Cape-clad (thank God not literally, for the most part; capes are a huge pain in the ass) children following behind. A small groan escaped from him, only audible to Morie. "...Yeah, yeah, I'll handle it." The Director said, casually waving off Rachel as she couldn't help but roll her eyes. The Vice Director gave a soft smile to Morie before turning her attention to the Tinkers in the room, Rachel and Beverly. "Since that's the case...When Fukuda's done giving the laydown, follow me; I'll show off the...Um...." Thinking on it for a bit, she abruptly decided on a new name for the room in question, divorcing it from the name of one of their members. "....The Proving Grounds. Yep."
For most, the exchange near the end would've felt awkward, but Rachel made even that feel natural and charming, waving off the gaggle of teens before heading her way through a new doorway, with a staircase that seemed to head further down....This, of course, only left Director Fukuda behind to explain to them exactly what they were getting into. Great.
"I'll be frank. With some heads-up I've received, we've become aware of an attack on both the Museum of Parahuman History further downtown, as well as another location I'll be leaving undisclosed. Most of The Guardians are preparing to handle the other incident, with a few who'll be tagging along for your endeavor as well. Truth be told, we don't know who - or what - will be the source of the attack. With any luck, something you all can manage...."
He looked between them all, gazes of fear, anticipation, anxiety, and even confidence; a peculiar mix of emotions. But he still wasn't done, of course. "....Now, I won't sugarcoat this. Most villains, even in Redline, are above killing heroes; they know the kind of retribution it'd call down on them. You kids are no exception....But don't let your guard down. They'll still beat you to a pulp if you get in the way. Some more than others. You'll need to watch each other's backs out there, and play things smart. You've got..." Fukuda casually checks his wristwatch, looking at the time. "...A bit more than half an hour. Make it count; explain the ins and outs of your tricks to each other, figure out what each of you are -and most importantly, aren't- capable of, and think up workarounds. And as for you two?" His gaze turned to Jane and Bev, the smallest smirk playing on his face.
"You two've got last-minute work to do."
With that, feeling satisfied in his explanation, the Director went right back to work; paperwork wouldn't handle itself. If they needed to ask him something, he'd answer, but hopefully by now they'd pick up what he was putting down. Sooner or later tonight...It'd all be on them. They have to bring their A-Game, whatever that may qualify as.
If I need to fix anything, just say the word! At the very least I think I have the formatting right if nothing else. Hopefully the app does not disappoint though. :P
Aurorea
Name: Eleonore Evans
Alias: Aurorea
Nicknames: Elle, Evie
Age: 17
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.)
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-...
…
…
…
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
{{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.
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
<Snipped quote>
Brute Types: Muscle X Intensity
<Snipped quote>
Breaker Type: Atropos.
<Snipped quote>
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.
"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.
Updated
Alright, I'm happy to finally say that Thelonius is accepted! Get him up when you can :)
"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)
I will prolly need to fiddle with something so any issues just let me know. I was bored and hypervixated on this soooooo....
Some minor edits have been made: Changed his Alias Added to his appearance Added a tiny bit to his power for clarification.
Thank you for your response! Just got back from work as well. Whew.
I was in a Worm RP a long time ago, and in it someone helped write up a power idea for me that happened during an Endbringer attack. Behemoth I think? I am not a Worm expert by far, but I do find the power concepts and their ramifications and so forth to be interesting in application! And just liking superpower RPs in general really. That, and I was in a Not!Worm RP in the past on another site, one that ended up rather fun and got me curious by the time I joined the aforementioned Worm RP! XD
But I figure one could get a simple looking but relatively complex situation out of triggering during a Herald attack, so in reality I would love to learn more. Not for power-gaming, but more for 'yeah it might be strong, but it gets to have a lot of nuance to it!' things. The potentials would be fascinating!
Of course I feel more confident in writing a trigger than determining a resulting power from it, though getting experience in that area would be nice admittedly. Safe to say I am interested in your RP though! ^^;
Glad to hear it! Yeah, if you'd like to talk more in-depth on the matter, feel free to get with me on Discord via DM; me and my Co-DMs could help you iron out a solid concept. And I'm happy to hear you're interested, more the merrier! lol
I have a question, if that is ok to ask (sorry if I am interrupting anything, about to head to work shortly and feel curious enough to ask).
While it says in the OOC that the Heralds Archangel and Gaia will be explained at a later time, would there be any basic info to know if someone ever made a character that triggered amidst/during one of their attacks perchance? Just as a hypothetical thing of course, considering such a thing as a Herald attack would be filled with a lot of crazy trigger potential perhaps.
Sorry for the late response! For sure though, I left it at that so as not to clog up the initial post and the G.O.I.s more than they already were; most people in this world are vaguely aware of some of what the Heralds are capable of, and I'd be more than happy to elaborate for those interested in making Triggers resulting from their attacks, because, yeah, lots of Triggers can occur during them lol
Beverly's attention towards the energy sword-maker was instantly snatched away the moment Jane emerged once more. Not that you could tell it was her though, until she spoke up. It was....No, Beverly didn't have words for it. How could she? Her eyes couldn't help but soak in every little detail they could scrape from the make of her armor. It looked so....Solid. Built to last, to withstand. Nothing like what she had ever made, which broke so quickly, always designed for fleeting moments of action. There were no interlocking plates, or vulnerabilities in the design to speak of; not the barest crevice to strike, barring the necessity of mechanical joints, flexing and moving the limbs as naturally as she would her own.
Bev stared like a deer in the headlights, unable - or perhaps unwilling - to break contact. It was so amazing, so disconnected from anything she herself had ever made, and that just made it more of a sight to behold. She could envision it in action; power and speed in one unit, like an artificial Brute, breaking through obstacles and casting foes aside. By the time she realized what was happening, it was already too late. With a contented sigh from seeing such a marvel in person, she swooned, dropping like a sack of potatoes to the ground with the resounding 'clang' of the steel case cradling her back.
Fashionista, for her part, was in too much shock just watching it happen to even react.
Simple Unicycle
Damycles
Hitman
Eviledd1984
Yankee
Hound55
Noctis
Sep
Roman
