Thanks for the heads-up, and happy to hear it looks good! Thought I'd let you know that the sheet also now possesses his Sample Post, Issue #1: Mirror Images :D
And also I need to add Norman Osborn as one of Beck's NPCs, given that, y'know....He's his boss. xD It'll probably be added by the time ya look.
Q U E N T I N B E C K ♦ E N G I N E E R ♦ N E W Y O R K C I T Y ♦ O S C O R P L A B S
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"It's a lot easier to believe a lie than the truth, I find; so I weaponized that."
Quentin Beck originally became a noteworthy name when he had his start in Hollywood as a professional SFX Designer and occasional Actor and Stuntman. While no A-Lister celebrity by any means, he had a fairly lavish lifestyle and accrued impressive recognition for his acting talents and excellent displays of special effects in his projects. However, Beck grew bored of his endeavors on the big screen and sought out more challenging prospects, wishing to test his steadily growing engineering prowess.
Around 2008, Quentin put his talents to work at Stark Industries creating new weapons of war, namely focusing on drones and the potential applications of remotely-piloted devices for warfare. Admittedly, this work didn't always sit well with the young man, but he chose to keep his concerns on his work over his morals. This came to a head when he was 28, and the Chitauri made their global assault. He survived, but the experience shook Beck, now having a more clear image in mind when it came to the terrors of war, however brief it had been. He resigned from Stark Industries, finding himself unable to work under the circumstances. Taking his work with him, he left to pursue his craft with Oscorp Labs.
His delve into superheroism was quite recent. It had been a factor for his life for quite some time now, after the invasion, but something clicked in him when news of an armored crusader striking Stark Industries complexes started to become big news. It was only now, with his attention properly drawn, had Beck figured out just how popular these so-called 'heroes' were becoming; and truth be told, he was finding his life to be quite dull once more, after steady years of working in Oscorp. So, he decided he'd put on the biggest show he'd ever conceived; he, too, would become a caped crusader and garner all the fame he had craved as the enigmatic 'sorceror' MYSTERIO.
***
This variant of a classic villain is inspired by both his comic and film adaptations; an attempt to marry the two together as best I could. What Quentin always seemed to desire were recognition, and a way to keep things interesting in his life. This puts him through a variety of roles, from the charismatic and savvy SFX Designer and Actor/Stuntman, to the cool and practical Drone Engineer, to his current profession as a Technician and Engineer for Oscorp Labs. But when even that grows dull, what's the next best thing? Well, while it's an extreme leap for him, acting as a 'hero' isn't far from his wheelhouse due to his Hollywood days, and perhaps when the actor lives his role long enough...It might just become a part of him. He's far from noble for now, certainly; more in it for fame (and perhaps some fortune down the line), but perhaps our fishbowl-headed 'master magician' can find some real courage behind his false heroics.
He hasn't been active as a hero for long, but he's made a big splash due to his overwhelming showiness and abundant charm. Still, time will only tell if Beck can manage his new dual life or have it all crashing down on him from any angle; precarious, certainly...But exciting as well. It's sure to keep him entertained for a while, at least.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
The Tech Crew - Quentin might be a technological genius on the levels of Tony Stark (his words), but even he understands the importance of a team...A tech team, that is. Gathering together old friends from his time in Hollywood and some disgruntled Stark employees who left after the disappearance of the titular man himself, Beck has formed a cohesive unit who aide him in selling the fantastical lie that is Mysterio. When he isn't out gallivanting as a caped crusader, they're also some of his closest (and only) friends.
Maguire (Terry) Beck - Quentin's cousin Terry is his closest confidant, sticking strong together from their early childhoods up to the present day. She was also the one to encourage Quentin's plans to try and become a superhero, going so far as to apply her skills in costume design for the project. She does however have lingering fears that her cousin may bite off more than he can chew eventually...
Vinnie Beck - Quentin's uncle and Terry's dad, Vinnie was always a supportive figure in young Beck's life where his father was not, and he holds a deep appreciation for the man. However, he and Maguire have both decided to keep him out of the loop of Mysterio for his own safety, should something occur.
1982 - Quentin is born in Riverside, California as the son of Elmore and Henrietta Beck.
1987 - Quentin's love for movies and special effects begins to grow, as does his relationship with his cousin, Maguire Beck. He is also given a movie camera by his uncle Vinnie to foster this interest.
1988-89 - Quentin begins learning quickly, making his own homemade movies alongside his cousin and practicing in stop-motion effects. His father believes that his son is wasting his time on these pursuits, and one night shatters the boy's gifted camera in a blind rage. However, this does not dissuade Beck.
1994 - After his father assaults both Beck and his mother in a drunk rage, the family is separated, with Quentin and Henrietta living with his cousins.
2002 - Completing his high school education, both Quentin and Terry attend the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, where they develop technical knowhow that helps to solidify their future careers.
2003-2007 - For a time, Beck pursues his childhood dream of being a SFX Designer for high-end movies, and occasionally taking on the role of Actor and Stuntman. He garners interest due to his surprising skills as an Actor and promising performances as a Stuntman, but also his innovative creations for special effects. However, this eventually bores him as he moves on to new horizons, moving to New York City in search of opportunity.
2008-2010 - Quentin becomes an engineer for the infamous Stark Industries as a designer of drone crafts. While somewhere inside him he knows that this is wrong, he instead chooses to focus on his work over his morals, feeling vindicated in his work by the praise of fellow Stark employees.
2011-2020 - After the incident of the Chitauri Invasion, having been confronted by the horrors of war, Beck resigns from Stark Industries, instead joining a competitor in Oscorp Labs, eventually becoming their Chief Engineer.
2021-Today - Intrigued by the emergence of an ironclad superhero and coming to realize the growing popularity of these caped vigilantes, Quentin is struck by an incurable spark of creativity. Gathering together both trusted teammates and invaluable resources, he forms the heroic identity of the 'sorceror' Mysterio, striking out as a flashy cape-wearing hero of New York. He has gained a notable following due to his stylish nature and surprising efficacy.
Seeing as how Mysterio usually has a wheelhouse of tricks and traps, I've ironed it down a bit for his initial go; he'll develop some more fun tools down the line, and up his game as the stakes do, as well.
The Mysterio Suit - The suit itself isn't especially teched out (at least, not yet), because as of right now it's effectively a polyester/Kevlar hybridization, courtesy of his cousin Maguire. It's comfortable, yet durable; not tough enough to let him get gut-punched by a superhuman, but it can take a few bullets without compromising Beck's safety. Hopefully. The hands and feet are reinforced to allow him to pack a bit more punch than he naturally could, as well. Additionally, his helmet functions as a voice modulator, preventing him from being recognized as Quentin (and also adding a bit more style to the whole thing, of course).
Quentin's Industrial Illusion Drones - This version of Mysterio might not use hallucinogens or hypnotic voice modulators (though that one could be down the line, perhaps), but he does have some high-grade drones courtesy of...Well, himself. While armed as wartime drones, they also possess a few more specialized pieces of equipment, namely a cloaking field to prevent most forms of detection, and the ability to generate illusions via holograms. They are also equipped with some smaller grade stuff meant mostly for being flashy, such as the harmless green mist they emit to aid in the mystical presentation Mysterio puts forward.
SFX Artist/Actor - Beck is a master of make-up, special effects, mechanics, and physical stunt work, which has all aided him greatly in his time as Mysterio, which more often than not has been him effectively bludgeoning crooks into submission while they're distracted by his party tricks. His acting finesse has also allowed him to finely craft the persona of Mysterio, working wonders in his perception by the public.
S A M P L E P O S T:
AGE OF MARVELS: Mysterio
ISSUE #1: Mirror Images
157th St. ♦ Queens, New York City
The biting chill of winter was coming full force this night, with a blanket of snow covering the busy streets of The Big Apple. However, something a bit more pertinent was occurring this night beyond the slow crawl of frost across windows. Abruptly, a group of armed thugs bust into a nearby convenience store, guns at the ready as their leader is quick to hold up the cashier. "Alright, lady! No funny business! Ya dump out the register, we snag what we please, and we're on our merry way for Christmas." Even underneath their mask, you could simply sense the smug grin from the man as the poor woman is left with little option but to comply.
However, this confidence was to be short-lived for the would-be crooks.
As if following right behind them, the doors slammed open once more, with a cloud of green mist flooding the entryway, gently gliding through the aisles. The petty thieves paused their criminal acts, their attention now turned to this strange phenomenon; even their leader, laser-focused as he had been mere moments before, turned away from the cashier. The woman took this chance, making a mad sprint for the exit. However, the head gunman and his trigger finger were too fast...
Fortunately, someone else was even faster.
What seemed to be a green barrier of some kind formed in front of her, guarding her from a hailstorm of bullets. "Well, that was just pointless. What exactly were you hoping to gain there?" With bravado in their steps, from out of the mysterious cloud emerged an unusual, almost alien figure. With an opaque glass dome on their head, vibrant green clothing, and a billowing purple cape, he made confident strides towards the lead gunner. The man had completely lost his target now, allowing the cashier to safely retreat. That should make things easier...
"Now, gentlemen, we can do this the easy way, or-" The figure found himself caught mid-sentence as a rain of lead hit him...Only for his form to puff away, as if made of smoke. If these thugs were confused before, they were now shaken; just what were they dealing with here?!
"Well, that was just plain rude."
The leader whipped around in a panic, but was only met with the resounding CRACK! of the figure's fist, having mysteriously manifested right behind him; he was out cold before he even hit the floor. The others took that que rather well, and began scurrying like the rats they were, darting to outside the store...Only to be confronted by another horrifying sight.
In front of them were nearly a half-dozen of the very same helmed vigilante that had just laid their boss out flat, with most of their menacingly floating overhead, and one standing right in front of them, arms crossed and posture clearly suggesting a sense of boredom. One of them, already flightier than the rest, had stumbled to the ground upon the sight, and could only squawk out a frightened response. "W-What the hell are you?!"
In unison, the figures laughed, and it felt as if it resounded across the entire street. They even spoke in unison, if only to compound the fears of these lowly crooks. "Us? We are the greatest sorcerer you shall ever know! But you may call us....Mysterio!" With a flourish from the ground-bound cape now known as Mysterio, another burst of green mist emerged, and only the shrill shrieks of the thugs could be heard in the cold dead of the night.
By the time all was said and done, the beaten and bludgeoned criminals were all rounded up, bound together in tight rope bindings; not the fanciest thing, but they got the job done. With a quick call to the NYPD to inform them of the incident, our glass-domed 'hero' took the chance to enter the convenience store once more. The cashier was long gone. No thanks for this job well done, of course...Still, he could take his own compensation. With a 10$ bill left behind as recompense, the enigmatic Mysterio left the scene...With a box of store-brand glazed donuts in tow.
Soon enough, Mysterio had arrived at a small warehouse being rented out by Oscorp's Chief Engineer, one Quentin Beck. What could he want with such a locale? Well, that became clear when he stepped inside, revealing an elaborate set-up; six individuals were hard at work, piloting drones, watching feed from micro-cams, prepping special effects remotely, and more. Indeed, these individuals, too, were part of Mysterio. As was the man behind the helmet.
Entering his self-owned lair, the 'sorcerer' removed his spherical helm, revealing none other than Quentin Beck himself, a smug grin on his face as he hoisted the box of sugary delights overhead. "Brought some spoils of war! C'mon, enough of staring at blue monitors for a night." His fellow creators were all too happy to oblige, putting their work aside for the moment to hail a night well fought. "You were great out there, Quentin! That entrance you planned was great, and the finale? Wow. Just wow." Victoria Snow was quick to congratulate him, but he shrugged it off. "Nonsense. Wouldn't have been possible without you; you're becoming an ace when it comes to those drones, and that save on the cashier? Couldn't have done it better myself."
From that point on, it became a storm of compliments both to and from Beck for everyone's efforts as they cheekily watched the footage from tonight's brawl. The Mysterio that had initially entered the store? Not even the real him; just a drone feigning him with some fancy holograms and a voice synthesizer. Like hell Quentin was just gonna wander headfirst into a gunfight. Same with that barrier trick; it was just the drone taking the shots, but the important thing was that the crooks bought it. And the big finale outside? More of the same; drones taking on his likeness as an intimidation factor. Though he was actually there, as the sole Mysterio on foot. It was risky, but it was worth it to really sell the ending. The mist? Well, it is actual mist, just not magical in any sense; the drones are simply loaded with some canisters they can vent at will. Granted, the finishing stunt means they'd need to restock sooner than later...Oh, and as for how all those grunts actually got laid out? Well, simply put...The drones just full-body smashed into them. Thankfully they were built sturdy...For the drones, that is. Those guys might have a few fractures.
So, with stale-sweet store-brand pastries in hand, Quentin and his tech crew celebrate another job well done. Tomorrow would be another day as the 'sorcerer' Mysterio, but for now? For now, they could sit back and relax.
<Snipped quote by Mintz> Important to keep in mind that Retired wants heroic POVs: "Likewise, these concepts must not be villainous in nature."
Yeah, I'm well aware, don't worry; but I also read a snippet mentioning that they aren't against alterations of existing characters. In other words, I'll be making him...Heroic enough. He'll grow into it, with any luck. xD
<Snipped quote by Mintz> Always room in these games for new faces and more feet.
That sounded like a fetish. I promise its not.
Hey, if ya say so....xD
Happy to be here then! I think I have an idea involving a twist on a certain illusion-weaving, globe-headed rat bastard >:3 I'll probably get to work on the concept sometime tomorrow. Hopefully it stacks up to the rest of y'all lol
I'm not gonna lie, this sounds sick. Any chance there may be room for one more here? Even if I'm currently clueless on who I'd actually be doing; but hey, I can figure that out pretty quick lol
"Damn...We really gotta get something better than these ration bars." In spite of such a claim, the Captain of the illustrious and illegally commandeered starship Galatea was nearly on his 8th one this day in the span of barely an hour of consciousness, ugly wrappers and crumbs littering what might once have been a crisp and orderly desk. In-between bites he casually watched his crew go about their morning routine; turned out this office could access the live feed of a bunch of micro-cameras kept around the Crew Space and other spots of interest on-board this fine vessel. Kura wasn't exactly sure what to make of it, having only found out a week or so ago, but....Well, he'd be lying if it wasn't entertaining more often than not.
As the vision on the holo-monitor panned from member to member, he took another large chomp out of his current food source. Today was gonna be interesting; he'd had Wex, that slippery little shit, set them on a course to the planet in question for their next gig. Of course, until now, he hadn't told them exactly what they were going to be doing. After all, he doubted any of them would be overjoyed about a romp on a hazardous desert planet, but that was the way of things. He was sure they'd be won over when they heard the potential payout though; this was, without a doubt, the largest paycheck Kura would be picking up with this new...Albeit very questionable, crew. That is, if everything worked out as planned.
Which it never does, of course, but a man can dream.
Scarfing down the remainder of the bland-tasting nutrient-packed bar and tossing another wrapper to the side (he'd clean it!...Eventually), Kura figured that now was a good a time as any, seeing as how most of them had at least become prepared for the day, judging from his all-seeing, microscopic eyes (seriously, why the hell did they need something like this in the first place?). Swiping away the display, he pressed down a button on his desk, allowing his voice to be carried across the entire ship, in appropriately (if not aggravating) booming fashion.
"Rise and shine, crew. Get your asses to the Mission Deck in ten, gotta brief everyone before we touch down." His rough voice echoed throughout the shiny metallic halls, reaching everyone on-board. Kura, too, prepared himself, snagging his blade from its resting point aside his bed, and making an effort to not look quite as bed-headed as he had been moments ago...And swiping away a few crumbs from his jacket. That'd be a pretty bad look for a captain. With a few morning stretches to limber up, he too made his way down to the Mission Deck....
Nicknames: Jen (considers her full name a mouthful)
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Personality:
“The Quiet One” in a nutshell. A wallflower that prefers to coast through social situations with only the occasional utterance, merely observing and cataloging the important bits of ongoing conversations. It’s not so much that she’s incapable as she is merely antisocial. While she doesn’t like using it, she is capable of social intrigue. Her thoughtful, cautious nature often tempers her words, carefully tailoring them to achieve her desired results. If she doesn’t care to put on a show, however, she comes across as far more sardonic, noncommittal and snippy. At times, this standoffish visage fades, especially when her curiosity and hunger for knowledge are piqued. She is also prone to being more brutally honest with those she considers friends or -at least- friendly acquaintances. Although raised by a law enforcer, Jen has never fully conformed to such lines of thinking. Though she does define several sharp lines in the sand, her judgment is extremely vigilante-esce, believing that the best way to handle threats is to eliminate them such that “there is not even the possibility of them being a threat again”. Her primary restraint is minding whether she could feasibly get away with doing so without consequences.
While Jen has a sense of morality, it is largely tempered by selfishness. Somewhat disturbingly practical, Jen has no interest in heroics, not in a serious sense. She sees it as a dead-end job, even in the literal sense. If she had her way, she would live a quiet, undisturbed civilian life, using her powers solely for her own gain and to protect her personal interests when the likes of reckless Cape activities decide to rudely intrude. In a sense, Jen treats being a hero like a "punch-clock" job. She's there to get her hours in, do her duty, get her pay and clock out, nothing more and nothing less. Her pride and sense of completionism at least compel her to make an effort to give the most rationally sufficient "service" possible according to her job's standards, but otherwise, she is not really the type to go above and beyond the call of duty unless she has no other option.
That being said, she does make some effort to conceal her "conventionally negative" aspects. She has no interest in antagonizing others for no reason and making unnecessary enemies, and by her reckoning, it's much easier to go with the flow where possible. She will follow orders to the letter -even if not the spirit- and generally makes an effort not to come across as a rebellious teenager. She has no intention of making heroics a lasting career and has every intent of quitting as soon as she's in an advantageous position for it, but there's no good reason to let others know that's the case and broadcast her true feelings. It's much easier to catch flies with honey, after all, and she's certain that pretending to be a good little child soldier will serve to smooth over the path of her near future much more nicely than the alternative.
At some point, one might wonder, is this level of selfishness normal? Perhaps it's a power-induced psychosis, an emotional separation to go with the physical separation. Regardless, Jen seems quite capable of acting in a manner outwardly divorced from her drives when needed. On the job, in costume, she plays something of an aloof detective crossed with surprisingly charismatic speaker. She gives hope to the hearts of the masses through encouraging words and actions, saves lives with a pat on the shoulder and two-fingered salute... and at the same time strives to drive fear into the hearts of villains. For her, it is not enough to defeat them physically, but mentally as well, to destroy them so that they will not choose villainy again. She takes especially harsh action on villains that take hostages, and she has little patience for playing to the tune of her opponents. If a villain makes ransom demands, she'll defy them out of spite.
Appearance: Civilian: A 5'8", 140 lb. charcoal-black-haired, brown-eyed, athletic, caucasian young woman with a lean, conditioned build. Prefers blue jeans and wide variety of dark cotton shirts or hoodies. Typically prefers solid colors and stuff without brand names plastered all over it. She lives in Redline, Maine, which is -to say the least- cold, so she also favors warm jackets, preferably with hoods for when the chill is especially biting. She dresses practical and for comfort. Style is a secondary thought at best, but she has a basic sense of color coordination and so at least doesn't come across as a visual disaster.
In a word, Jen can be described as “average”, the sort of face you can almost lose in a crowd. Her appearance seems to strike no particularly notable extremes at any given moment. While she is certainly athletic and built like a martial artist -if an obviously shapely female one, it’s almost impossible to tell beneath her baggy favored hoodies and jeans. She doesn’t bother to wash her face, but her skin is naturally clear for the most part due to healthy living. Her shoulder-length hair is hardly anything to write home about, seemingly combed to the bare minimum required to be presentable and only washed enough to not appear oily. The most notable thing about her would be her relative lack of smell one way or the other, apparently a result of unscented soaps. In outward demeanor, she is fairly mild; she doesn’t hunch, nor does she walk with her head held high, merely coasting by on the middle ground.
A cyberpunk-themed and (mostly cosmetically) armored bodysuit with glowing accents (that have no functional purpose but to look really damn cool), surprisingly breathable while also being warm and flexible enough to allow a full-range of unhindered movement. Courtesy of Fashionista, it is deceptively durable and generally bulletproof to small arms fire, along with stopping non-Cape-based physical assaults. Granted, the protection against firearms isn't perfect, and getting peppered by them would still leave her winded and likely bruised, despite it warding off penetration and keeping her insides inside. The overall purpose of her costume is to make her able to fake being a Tinker, and it has multiple easily accessed buttons underneath a bit of casing on the forearms. Most of them don't actually do anything, though one of them on each arm is a panic button if pressed in a special sequence. Other functional ones activate headlights of adjustable brightness along the jawline of the suit's helmet. The sides of the helmet have concealed buttons for comms, and the helmet has a "silenced" mode that seals it off aside from some oxygen vents to allow her speech to be carried solely to her comms and not any potential listeners. The helmet can also be switched to "fully sealed" mode for hazardous environments, preserving the inside from outside gasses or liquids. All the technological portions of this costume are completely mundane in nature at Jen's request and can be technically maintained without a Tinker; though Tinker assistance certainly helps with part production.
Beyond that, a pouch at the small of her back has space to contain pepper spray, zip-tie restraints, a small flashlight, a taser, an extendable baton, some first aid utilities and her Wards phone.
Jen currently has a couple requests for upgrades that were unable to be made with Redline's current resources. Said upgrades are in the works and would replace the presently mostly cosmetic armor: a layer of shock-absorbing gel to blunt kinetic energy further, allowing her to whether the physical blows of even some Capes. And actually functional armor that, despite being so slim, is deceptively durable, provides protection equivalent to much thicker armor, and doesn't compromise any of her current costume's flexibility.
Biography: Raised in a good life, there is no doubt that Jen Mackens was spoiled. She knew it and, more importantly, took advantage of it. To be sure, her life was a mostly average one, middle class at best, but she never really experienced hardship. Or, at least, nothing she would refer to as hardship. Born to the joining of a police officer and a private investigator, Jen grew up exposed to two sides of law enforcement... and wanted nothing to do with them. Oh sure, learning her father's tricks and tips was neat, but they just made it easier to solve daily annoyances. Sure, practicing martial arts for self-defense was only practical and kept her in shape, but it was only a fun hobby. One she was fairly passionate about, sure, but not anything she wanted to dedicate her life to.
Though caring, her mother could be overbearing, her standards high and disappointment in Jen's lack of ambition palpable, but Jen simply chose avoidance in response. School seemed pointless to her. Exposed to her father's often cynical words and worldview, she knew what was actually useful in the real world, that being very little of what she was tested on. Never the sort to enjoy wasting her time, her grades plummeted to just enough to get by rather than excelling, despite her objective intelligence. Scrabbling to decide what to do with her life and trying to look ahead, Jen hit a mental roadblock trying to decide where to invest her energy and here not to, trying to discern a life path that she'd never tire of. Despite pressure from her mother and the encouragement of her father as senior year dawned, Jen found herself completely unmotivated and discouraged. She came to the conclusion to settle for what she might already be good at, martial arts and potentially following her father's footsteps... to her mother chagrin.
Tensions were rising until, suddenly, they were cut down for a tension of an entirely different kind. Her mother had disappeared on the job. That was apparent after she didn't come home for a whole week. By the third day, Jen's father was already engaging in his own investigation, and by the fifth, Jen had managed to wring shocking answers from him. As it turned out, her mother was a Cape, a hero outside her normal work, and Jen was far from enthused. Already, she had developed a certain level of disdain for "costumed crusaders", seeing them as net drains on society, whether heroic or villainous. It wasn't necessarily that she cared about society itself, however, as she merely did how much Cape activities might impact her simple life.
Apparently, her mother had been investigating some sort of smuggling ring when she disappeared. While that hadn't actually been conveyed to her father, he had managed to figure it out on his own. One part of Jen wanted to help with her father's investigation. A part of her that loved both parents, regardless of any tensions, wanted to do her part to make sure everyone was okay. A crueler, spiteful part of her that hated being deceived briefly considered that this was as much as her mother deserved for her hypocrisy, for engaging in such a profession and expecting anything but an unfortunate end.
But it was the practical part of her that eventually convinced Jen to disregard emotional drives and approach the situation with realistic cynicism, and as such, she decided to leave well enough alone, to leave it to the professional that was her father and get on with her life. If the situation was really serious, surely the Guardians could be called in. Jen was just a schoolgirl, a normal person in a world of titans. There was no rational place for her in getting involved with something that was too dangerous for a Cape like her mother. So, she would get on with her life, hope for the best and be ready for the worst. It wasn't her business.
As someone surely sensible once said, "she missed the part where it was her problem".
And so proceeded a series of very unfortunate events
Heart stoked with a truly deep and abiding hatred she'd never experienced before, Jen would use her then hospitalized father's teachings and her new powers to go on a one-woman crusade against the criminal organization, ruthlessly brutalizing them and their operations, not for justice but personal vengeance. The capes, in particular, were disappeared, never to be heard from again. While the nature of her power ensured that actual proof of her involvement was pretty much impossible to acquire, reasonable detective work in regard to the incident would see Jen eventually meeting Director Fukuda. Jen, of course, played coy without relent, admitting to nothing, but in being effectively "outed" by the government, she wasn't in a good position to refuse their recruitment "offer". And while she couldn't technically be threatened with actionable legalities, she knew the PRT could ensure her life was a lot more difficult... and potentially find something they could actually hold over her if she put them in a position to dig further.
With her father made aware of the danger their family was potentially in, even with the destruction and overall dismantling of the organization responsible by Jen and the PRT follow-up, that would be the final nail in the coffin to Jen's enrollment in the Wards.
Powers/Skills:
Athleticism: She is a highly athletic and agile individual with abundant stamina for extended movement/running/fighting.
High Pain Tolerance/Willpower: She's learned to handle pain and aching muscles while taking fairly brutal martial arts, and gaining powers has only been a wake-up call to push herself to the edge time and again just in case. As long as she isn't entirely incapacitated, it's likely that she'll try to keep fighting.
Martial Arts: Muay Thai: Even before becoming a cape, she took martial arts and reached a level where she could actually put what she knew into practice beyond spars. Her style is a brutal boxing one using knees and elbows as much as fists and feet, but she's been known to "ad lib" things or forgo form entirely to be more unpredictable. This gives her a certain awareness of where it's safe to strike the human body to incapacitate foes relatively harmlessly... or where she needs to aim to do the most damage.
Swimming: Can swim pretty well, good enough to handle towing someone with her.
Out of Phase (Breaker 8/Stranger 7/Striker 5/Trump 2/Mover 2/Brute 1): Jen's power is selective tangibility that moves her into what she perceives as a parallel "world", completely identical to the real one but empty of life. Her power is always active to some degree, leaving her ever so slightly "out of phase" with the world, despite her appearing completely normal to mundane means and senses. As a result of being "dimensionally divergent", she is immune to effects that would alter the level of "Shard energy" flowing through her to alter, neutralize or supplement her present powerset, whether positive or negative, and her mind is always fully out of phase, leaving her immune to abilities that would directly manipulate her mind or control of her body. Thinker powers tend to be unreliable when targeting her.
Beyond her passive state, she can actively push her dimensional divergence further, resulting in varying physical tangibility until she chooses to adjust the degree or undo it. By default, she phases away from everything that she doesn't consider "her" or that she isn’t wearing or carrying, resulting in her becoming completely undetectable and intangible due to not actually physically remaining in her "world", shedding most outside power effects currently lingering upon her. In her phased state, she doesn't need oxygen, food or water, and she has an altered sense of gravity, allowing her to move like she's in space. While phased, she experiences the world as if through a watery filter, the normal world perfectly perceptible to her even if it would otherwise not be, and despite being able to still perceive the world, she is not vulnerable to indirect harm, like blinding lights or deafening sounds, all such things muted by the watery "filter".
Controlling the degree of her tangibility, Jen can choose what aspects of herself remain in interaction with the world and can alter them on the fly. For example, she can allow herself to be heard even without allowing herself to be detected by other senses. She can allow herself to be seen and yet remain intangible. She can attack and physically interact with the world while otherwise remaining undetectable. However, this selective tangibility is "all or nothing" in a sense. While Jen can choose which aspects of herself interact with the world, those aspects she allows are fully vulnerable in return. If she wants to be seen, that means allowing light to hit her, which means being vulnerable to flashbangs. If she wants to strike someone or otherwise physically move something, her entire body will in turn be vulnerable to kinetic harm in general, even if she is otherwise undetectable. While she can choose what she is affected by, those choices apply to her whole body, not just individual parts of it. As such, on an offense level, she cannot, for example, partially phase through the surface of a target, living or not, and strike the interior alone, disregarding the exterior/armor/skin/etc.
There is a small caveat to this "all or nothing" selectiveness in that, by default, her power doesn't phase her through the surface she is grounded on unless she chooses to, and she is capable of walking -or climbing- on normally harmful surfaces while phased without being threatened by them, despite the pseudo-physical contact.
Jen cannot bring other living beings with her into her phased state, and even nonliving targets have limits. If it individually has a greater weight than her own body, she can't bring it; though she can still bring multiple items that altogether surpass that range, so long as they each individually fall below it. That being said, what Jen's power considers to be "wearing or carrying" in terms of her possession is rather lenient. So long as Jen can physically take hold of a target, whether or not it is being worn or carried by someone else, she can then phase away with what she has grabbed, stealing it from the original owner. In this way, she is able to easily disarm opponents or otherwise render them unarmored, presuming her target is within her weight limit.
Threat Sense (Thinker 2): Any time Jen would be endangered in her immediate future (that is, the next 1-2 seconds), she is immediately aware that she will be in the form of a buzzing sensation. She has no prescient awareness of exactly what the danger will be, only that she, personally, in her present state, will be endangered by it. On its own, this power is fairly useless, but for Jen, it allows her enough time to fully enter her Breaker state to avoid threats. At the same time, it can act as an early warning that removing the protection of her Breaker state in a particular area will be a danger to her. This power does account for degree of threat, however, and the buzzing sensation will intensify based on how trivial or life-threatening the impending threat is.
Other: My favorite power sets involve time stopping or manipulation. Though speedsters are pretty sweet as well.
[youtube]WIP[/youtube] [youtube]WIP[/youtube]
Jen's lookin' clean! Go on and get her into characters :)
"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...
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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