yoshua171

Get Kid: Electrical Twogalatoo

Something

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Outsider

---

Everything was happening so quickly that, even with his senses, he was having a lot of trouble keeping up with the many capes around him and what each was doing in their efforts to slow the advance of the terrifying beast that was Behemoth. He darted back and forth, accelerating and turning far faster in the air than the size of his body would imply was possible. He intercepted blows and dealt back some of his own keeping the beast off guard. However, it couldn’t last forever and the endbringer briefly focused on him. Immediately he detected the shift in his body and in the air around him. A building of tremendous heat and electricity. His entire body tensed, and then he shifted tacts, turning away from Behemoth and accelerating rapidly and continuously as he retreated. Every molecule of his Second Vessel was beginning to boil...except for the core that was. It was still stable. He felt himself using up significant quantities of energy just to keep his form together and that was when his power failed.

Just at the edge of Behemoth’s kill aura, Outsider became a costumed Jake, falling suddenly towards the ground with gradually increasing velocity as gravity remembered to affect him. The sudden shift in form induced nausea and with the fall, it caused him to throw up, the bile and half-digested food falling slower than him. He choked slightly and breathed in sharply as he saw how close to the ground he was getting.

Half-panicking, Jake grit his teeth and closed his eyes, willing himself to change. Closer and closer he got to the ground and soon he knew it wouldn’t matter if he changed forms. He tried, one last time, but instead he only felt a disorienting emptiness followed by a violent, jarring impact as he struck---....

---

Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa

---

Arriving several miles away from Behemoth and standing upon a skyscraper, Tulpa thanked Cascade and then sat down and closed her eyes.

“I’m going to focus on my projection. If he’s aiming something at us, teleport us both.” She glanced at the woman, opening an eye to see the cape nod.

Good.

Tulpa then turned her full attention to her projection and in doing so became intimately aware with the storm that was the battlefield surrounding Behemoth. Truly it was a spectacle with energy flying every which way and capes equal parts distracting and retreating from the endbringer. She frowned, they ought to all be retreating, but if they felt their powers were sufficient to defend them after her warning, then so be it.

It was their funeral.

As the others struggled against the Behemoth, the Seraph lashed out and pulled at the monster’s attention from every angle, making sure it would have trouble focusing on anything while it was present. High above several layers of clouds were apparent, the first was a cloud of debris and the second were clouds likely conjured by another cape’s powers. Sylph perhaps. Of course, to Tulpa none of that was terribly relevant, for while everyone had bought time, she had bidded hers. After all, there was one particular aspect of the Seraph that she wanted to capitalize on, and she couldn’t do that without time.

Now, she’d had enough of that to truly begin her plan.

Now glowing more brightly than the sun, the Seraph pulled away from its assault of Behemoth and darted up into the choking cloud of debris and beyond, ascending past the gathered cloud cover. Both clouds began to swirl around a central point, flashes of blinding light occasionally revealed amidst their expanse.

Behemoth, for perhaps the first time in the whole fight, briefly stopped moving, craning its head upwards for a brief moment, its various wounds rapidly filling in with denser materials as it healed. This lasted but a moment before its attention moved further away, its gaze aiming directly for Tulpa herself.

She smiled.

Several bolts of lighting, and roiling pillars of fire erupted, cast in her direction.

They never hit. In fact, after the first four buildings, they veered away entirely, pulled upwards into the swirling maelstrom of power where they disappeared in violent flashes of light. Silver light. Behemoth paused and lashed out, an explosion of flames breaking glass and shattering bones even further away than his roars had as it tore apart the clouds above. Debris swirled and collapsed to the earth and the Endbringer turned away, focused again on its destination.

It took one step and stumbled, then another, and found it could not move. Lightning struck at the ground near its feet.

Nothing.

From above descended shocks of lightning, draping down from the dust and smoke of the blast. They touched the beast and pulled.

Behemoth roared and then in a flash of blinding power was completely engulfed by an aura of choking, smothering light. Rings of force briefly blasted outwards from the clashing titans. High above, more clouds gathered, but the debris was not among them, instead it spun lazily in a maelstrom several stories high and three city blocks wide. The twisting storm appeared slow, but beneath the outer layer the materials were spinning at incredible velocity, piercing buildings and chipping away at everything within.

Then a vibration rang out, a sound like an angel singing one perfect note and the storm collapsed inwards all at once, tiny debris shaped into millions of needles no thicker than grains of sand. The projectiles dug through tiny gaps in the regenerating endbringer’s jagged vessel, pushing deep and with rapidly growing force.

Behemoth roared once more, but the needles did not shatter and in fact the only evidence of the sound’s effect was the Seraph’s blinding body fanning out from the force of the noise.

Tulpa smiled. The Seraph moved, its form clearly bigger than it had been at the beginning of the fight, the quantity of threads greater, the solid light of its body more intense, and the range of its telekinesis vastly larger than before. With its movement, violent winds blasted out and then converged around its sinuous limbs, becoming cutting gales. The threads closed in and phased through the needles lodged in Behemoth’s body, making itself a part of them.

Silence.

For a glorious moment there was complete silence, the gale, the fighting, even the crashing of Behemoth totally still, but only for a moment. Light so bright as to eclipse the sun blossomed and then erupted out from every inch of the endbringer’s body. Inhuman flesh was annihilated by the built energy of the entire fight so far and yet as the energy washed over those few capes who had remained, they felt nothing of it. Instead, all they would feel was the gentle touch of fine sand brushing past them.

Far afield, Evelyn gasped, opening her eyes even as she doubled over, clutched her head, and vomited off the roof of the building. Cascade reached out a hand, but stopped.

Seven minutes.

The Ward grit her teeth and swore through the tremendous pain as the projection disengaged from Behemoth with a tremendous pulse of force that pushed the endbringer off balance. However, its strength could not last and so even as its threads reeled back, readying themselves to lash out at the beast once more...it winked out of existence in several flickers before it was replaced by a faint silver silhouette.

Evelyn shuddered and looked up, her head throbbing, her body shaking as all the tension of holding onto the Seraph was all at once gone.

Squinting, her vision blurry, Evelyn tried to discern the damage she had done to the endbringer and without thinking words spilled from her lips.

“Is it over?”

Sounding stunned, Cascade replied, "I--...I don’t know."

A ringing silence was all that followed.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

---

Lashing at Behemoth, pulling it, and taking its attention from others, the Seraph occupied the endbringer’s attention fairly often as it thundered ponderously through Denver. Her adrenaline was pumping from the tension and the knowledge that she was making a real difference, fighting something truly anchored in the mores of anarchy, destruction, and evil. However, as they fight continued, she found that the Seraph’s strikes appeared to be losing their effectiveness. It was a gradual thing, but she was paying very close attention, her own senses on the backburner while she managed her projection’s movements. It was as this realization hit her that her own senses blared a warning and she snapped out of her trance. Lightning, a bolt thicker around than her own body, was heading straight towards her. Her eyes widened, she shielded herself reflexively, and took a step back.

She was to be struck down by evil?!?! Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and she shut them tight, denying the reality. The Seraph blurred, moving towards her, but the lightning never struck her. A smile spread over her face. Fate had denied evil its victory...but how? She opened her eyes and stared in shock at the crackling--yet unharmed--form of Alexandria herself. For the briefest moment her facade broke and a mixture of awe and adoration filled her expression, alongside relief.

"I don't know who you are, but you're doing good work. If you can get further back, do it. That's an order."

She gaped and just before the hero of the Triumvirate took off, she managed several stumbled words, "I--I'm Tulpa! Th-thank you!" Her words trailed off slightly near the end as the woman took off, flying in once more to pound Behemoth straight in the face. As one of her literal heroes left Tulpa felt herself regain some of her lost composure, the iron will and determination returning to her. At the same time the Seraph arrived, compelled to protect her and in that moment she counted back. How long had it been active?

At least a few minutes. She had time. Reaching out, a single thread entangled with the material of her hand and she smiled. Her connection reestablished, they shifted their attention back to Behemoth. Noting his trajectory she narrowed her eyes and the Seraph writhed before her. At a disorienting velocity, Evelyn was repositioned further from Behemoth and then promptly abandoned by her projection as she sent it back into the fray.

The mass of solid silver light weaved between every cape present, exuding its enhancing material even as it struck at Behemoth, pushing at him and burning away material where it could. With great frustration apparent, Tulpa grit her teeth and kept at it, even as the endbringer all but ignored her--and everyone else’s--efforts to stop it from reaching PRT Headquarters. So focused was she on that single objective that the Seraph utterly failed to intercept the bolt of lightning that carried on to strike HQ.

She screamed out in fury and as the ground beneath Behemoth melted and the beast fell in, the Seraph slammed itself into him, helping him on his fall backwards. Then came Inkscape and so stunned was she that she actually had the Seraph back off, levitating and flinging itself upwards and clear of the tidal wave of ink.

For several brief moments the local protectorate leader pinned Behemoth down...and then the beast roared. Even as far away se she was, she had to cover her ears, wincing away.

"Shit!" She swore as she saw a flash of light. The Seraph flared and she immediately noticed what had happened. Inkscape had been struck.

Even as little as she had felt for the strange man, she remembered the kindness he had shown towards her when she’d joined the Wards...and later on as well. She remembered the good work he’d done in the city. She remembered his dedication to good and she realized that even if she didn’t like the PRT, he had been a good cape and a good man. Her jaw locked and she felt hot tears roll down her cheeks. Slowly, as Behemoth rose, her gaze shifted through the air and then locked on the endbringer.

The Seraph continued its writhing dance in the sky above, but something almost imperceptible changed about its movements.

Three minutes.

"You’ll pay for that," she muttered. As communications resumed as courtesy of Dragon, Tulpa took a deep breath and activated her communicator. "Tulpa speaking. If possible, a teleporter sent my way would be exceptionally useful." She then cut off comms and as follow-up, the Seraph shifted.

Writhing threads struck out at dust and debris and the projection moved, hovering two-hundred feet above the endbringer. Whenever it struck out with energy or redirected attacks from other capes, the Seraph caught that energy and pulled it in with its many many strands of silver light. Its glow intensified by the second and simultaneously, dust and detritus was pulled high into the air where it was spread out over the area of many city blocks, always with a strand nearby.

"Tulpa speaking. The massive minion above Behemoth is mine. Calling for immediate, but brief, retreat from within a block’s radius of Behemoth. Get out within the next three minutes." She cut off comms again and then activated it once more as an idea struck her.

"Anyone with blaster powers generating energy, fire above Behemoth. At the edge of your range if possible."

While she awaited results, she commanded the Seraph into action and it replied with destructive force. Slamming directly down onto Behemoth it writhed and burnt its way down the endbringer, binding it and the monster in place with the sheer force of its telekinesis. After a few moments it was thrown off, but it hardly cared, using the momentum and turning itself into a high velocity spin, lashing the endbringer with the fury of a million strands of burning, sheering light.

As the Seraph did its work someone arrived, landing on the rooftop with her, having got there via a glowing prismatic portal. Tulpa turned her gaze to the woman and tilted her head momentarily, eyeing the cape’s costume. "Cascade?"

The woman nodded, "Yup, you requested a teleporter. Here I am." Taking a deep breath, Tulpa nodded and then turned, pointing even further away.

"We need to be even further from Behemoth when this goes off...and I need you here just in case he targets me before, during, or after. Can you do that?" Cascade nodded.

"Great. Let’s go," Tulpa replied, satisfied. Cascade closed the distance, took her hand and then a portal formed and they disappeared through it in a single bound.

Cascade

Casual

Costume

Mask

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Chatterbox

---

It was something of a drive from the airport to the meeting, but they made it with some time to spare. He made sure to hand off the vehicle to one of his costumed thralls, to make things appear less...suspicious. Of course, they also exited the vehicle out of the direct line of sight in a nearby alley that would serve similarly as a shortcut. He walked the rest of the way, all the while sending out commands and tapcode to his growing, thriving fanbase. Even in these dire circumstances, the thought put a small smile at the edges of his lips. As he arrived alongside the other Jacks people were getting properly situated. He made small talk with some capes, as well as getting updates of who was present. All the while he was careful to keep his power dialed down quite low--even though any thinkers present would have difficulty detecting it. Besides, even if anyone knew the true nature of his power it was unlikely that they knew he could dial it up or down. Similarly, the influence he would gain from this--in the way of capes--would be so miniscule as to be virtually nothing.

Eventually everyone who was likely going to arrive, did so, and the proceedings moved on to the pre-curtain announcement. Legend stepped up and spoke. He listened, though mostly peripherally as he continued giving commands to his people, organizing and helping civilians get to safety...or the nearest thing that could constitute such when considering an Endbringer. When the groups--and their leaders--were pointed out, he frowned. Despite the fact that the truce was in full effect, he had to admit that he did not much like being in such close proximity to the heroes. Especially those in the local Protectorate and Wards, after all, working alongside them very much meant tipping his hand further. He hated the idea of them gathering intel on him that would still remain useful once the truce was called off.

Gritting his teeth, he still submitted once others had moved over to Inkscape’s group. He made sure to stay hidden in the crowd. As they mobilized, he did his utmost to stay away from any of the heroes he could, keeping to the villains when possible. He kept his power at low influence with all the capes nearby and if he felt any abnormal resistance, he stopped trying on those individuals.

However, for anyone beyond the group he was coordinating with, he kept his power dialed up all the way, using it as a locator beacon of sorts. He couldn’t tell the exact location with his power, but he could tell the direction relative to his own person. This, as well as his voice’s ability to calm those who were buried and--on occasion--convince them to explain their situation to better assist them in helping them, were invaluable.

While they worked he noticed something particularly large and eye catching appear above the skyline--though a significant distance away. Only when it moved did he turn his attention its way...except he found that it was not where he’d last thought he’d seen it. Instead, he found it near where he knew Behemoth to be, retreating to a building. He squinted and saw as what appeared to be a person climbed into the midst of its writhing silver form.

“What--no, who in the hell is that?” he wondered allowed as his hand continued its constant tapping on his pager, occasionally altering to one of several to tap out another code. He wondered if anyone even knew the answer to his question.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to his job, though he wanted answers, they had more important things to worry on. That in mind, he pointed out another set of civilians and headed there way with several others.

---

Outsider

---

He’d arrived just on time for the meeting and so it was only a few minutes that he had to wait for others to arrive so the briefing could commence. He took the time to assess those present and the situation at hand. By the rumbling in the earth below he had the distinct sense that it was Behemoth they were faced with. There was no storm and a winged lady hadn’t dropped from the heavens so unless it was something new...it was him: The Hero-killer. Sensing movement in his periphery, he glanced up and noticed that Legend had stepped forwards.

Normally he might have smiled at the sight of the hero, and though it did warm him to know he would be here for this fight, he felt little else beyond a dull resolve and a distant--controlled--fear. Then the hero spoke and it was a cautionary speech. When he mentioned the veterans who had experienced Endbringers before...he stepped forwards. People looked to him and he let them, even though he felt very little from it. Even having used his power to get to the meeting, his emotions were still distant, dull, and nigh unreachable. He endured it to make a difference and when the time came he volunteered himself, moving to stand beside Alexandria.

If he took significant damage he could always switch over to helping rescue civilians.

Then, interrupting any further attempt at thoughts, it came, the thunderous roar that shook the very earth he stood on. He stumbled at the tremors and then rather than catch himself, he jumped and shifted all at once.

---

---

Disorientation, nausea, a world gone mad...spinning, and then a flood of sensation and feeling. His Second Vessel had made its appearance and only the end of its tail had brushed against several people. Turning his senses outwards he shuddered, the sheer noise of Behemoth briefly causing him discomfort. Adjusting somewhat he reoriented, identifying the bio signatures of various important capes around him. Legend, Eidolon, Alexandria and several others--particularly those who would be directly dealing with Behemoth.

”If you can’t take a direct shot, but you can fly or position yourself behind me, do it,” he said, voice ringing out like a hollow echo. He knew that Behemoth could likely kill his Second Vessel if he truly desired, but it wasn’t his real body and...furthermore, if he died to save many others that fate, he would readily do so.

Once everyone had begun moving, he followed, swimming through the air and getting a feel for everything. He was well and familiar with Denver--even with his altered senses--but Behemoth changed things. It had no bio-electricity, which was not to say that he couldn’t detect the endbringer via the energy it gave off. As they approached he felt his skin tingle faintly. That would be Behemoth’s influence...and the radiation, though fortunately his barrier shielded him significantly from both. Hopefully it would stay that way.

As they closed the distance, Outsider found himself shifting between evasive maneuvers, harrying the monstrosity, and tanking what blows he could afford to for the sake of others. His Vessel took damage here and there, barrier falling, fleshing being scoured away, and pain flooding through him...but he managed. His regeneration and barrier protecting him, flesh reknitting and reforming at a startling rate. He’d never been tested so thoroughly, but he was glad that his power worked in this capacity, even if it took a few minutes on occasion to fully regenerate.

Time blurred as the fight continued and with every passing moment he found himself becoming a shield for others more often. Simultaneously he used the time between direct engagements with the endbringer to build up his kinetic blasts. He distracted Behemoth at times and offset him at others where he could. He was careful not to use his blasts unless its attention was elsewhere--and even then they were often dampened or redirected. Then it happened, something huge and highly energetic virtually blinded and deafened him as it slammed into the endbringer. It took several moments for him to fly well away and reorient himself. As the nausea and pain passed he realized that whatever that had been had already backed off...and apparently it had gouged a rather sizable section out of the beast.

If he’d had eyes, they’d have been wide; if a mouth, it would have gaped, but instead he only felt the emotion; awe...and then confidence to match his resolve. Focusing in, Outsider closed the distance and struck at Behemoth, pushing and pulling at him to get him off balance before zipping away and maneuvering through the air to evade assault. With the arrival of this mystery cape, maybe their chances were better than he’d thought.

He sure hoped so.

Yoshua's Character Storage Mark VII

Cassian McAllister “Argent”

Argent

---

---

Name: Cassian, N(orman). McAllister.
Alias: Argent.
Age: 20.
Alignment: Independent Hero.
Loyalty:
Appearance: Cassian stands at 5’9 and weighs 158 lbs with a lean, but faintly athletic build. While he doesn’t look it at rest, there is a sense of calm coordination about his movements. He has gray eyes, with one being faintly blue, especially in the right light. His features are a mixture of aristocratic and soft, giving him a fairly serious and almost entirely severe resting disposition. He cares about style about as much as comfort, resulting in his fashion choices being a mixture of these two. Still, just by looking at him, a person can often tell that he is the sort at the top of his class with something of a chip on his shoulder. He always wears a belt and carries a satchel--and occasionally a backpack if he must. He prefers neutral and calm colors, which show prominently in his wardrobe as a result.

Costume

History:

Hider

Cassian was a sullen, needy child so much so that he could easily have been described as a momma’s boy...which he was, frequently, by his classmates. As time went on he became more withdrawn, deciding that the only way to not be made fun of would be to simply be more independent...to be better. While the bullying--in large part--stopped in the ensuing years, a distance grew between him and the other kids, eventually leading to him being isolated, excluded from most games and activities when possible. His parents, Jane and Harold McAllister, decided to enroll him in the soccer program to give him other people his age to bond and socialize with. It worked and not only did he spread his wings and--slowly--come out of his shell, but he made a real, lasting friend in the form of Mauve.

While his time in the team only lasted a year or so due to funding, the two continued to play soccer together and hangout, sharing stories, food, and as they got older--secrets and insecurities to a degree. They were close and a big part of that closeness came from their mutual competitive spirit. In most things they did together--chess, soccer, racing down the stairs, video games--they competed, with the intention being to drive one another forwards. It fed Cassian like no other relationship had before it. In a way Mauve was his rock in a tumultuous, apathetic stream, something to hold onto and strive for. Somewhere he could go to feel safe amid the rapids. This carried up until high school, though the two did grow as much separately as they did together, with Cassian gaining a new appreciation for math and literature, eventually discovering web design as well. He excelled in school, his grades the highest of his class. He lost sleep in his effort to surpass his peers and meet his unrealistically high standards.

Of course, none of that mattered to him, the only thing that mattered was when Mauve graduated before him and all because he was a year ahead. He didn’t let that stop him, keeping in touch as much as he could while choosing the same college and shooting for the stars--and hitting spectacularly. Only 3 months into his senior year, he finished the rest of the material for the year...before collapsing in exhaustion. Alarmed, his parents tried to pull him out of school or at least force him to calm down, but he wouldn’t...not unless they found a way for him to skip his senior year and graduate.

A few months later it was the new semester for his college of choice, he was enrolled and moved in to the dorm. He was a semester behind Mauve, but at least this way he couldn’t fall any further behind. With the distance bridged, the two resumed almost as if they’d never been apart. Though now in a more adult capacity. Cassian joined a club or three, keeping up with his hobbies of fencing and chess in particular--though he’d largely grown out of his enjoyment of soccer(not that he didn’t play on occasion). As with highschool, he’s did well in college, deciding he’d major in mathematics while taking extra classes. With his own funds--and his parent’s assistance--he managed it all fairly well. With his coding hobby he began pulling in some money, helping classmates and some other clients with small projects here and there. Then, in his second year he met a new friend, Alex, through Chess club. Taking a liking to his observant good natured personality, and tenacity the two got along well enough.

As they played chess more the two grew closer and Cassian taught Alex more of the ins-and-outs of chess their relationship expanded outwards and away from the game, growing into something more than just chess buddies. His investment into chess increased significantly from there on and eventually he found himself and his two closest friends signing up for participation in a tournament with some rather lofty prizes. Specifically a scholarship, which would finally be the thing that put him above the rest once and for all. This in mind he signed up and awaited the coming day, practicing whenever he had time between homework, classes, and the rest.

Finally the day came and they headed to the venue and once they arrived the games began. For the first few matches all was well...until he realized who his last round would be against, someone he’d heard of before. Someone he didn’t think he would have any ability to win against. His spirits fell, but after a brief break he managed to regain his morale, resolving--at the very least--to put up as formidable a fight as he could. As the game went on the landscape shifted and between several moves an idea formed and from it...a strategy. Despite the fact that he was faced with a prodigy, he was winning! There were several turns of unease until it became too late for his opponent to back out of the trap and it was in the ensuing turn that his adversary realized his mistakes. Pleased, Cassian smiled, his victory now a sure thing thanks to the brilliance of his strategy, he could see the defeat in the expression of his opponent and it gladened him.

Trigger

However, before you can really enjoy your victory you’re thrown across the room. You land, knowing you’ll bruise, swearing from the pain and looking around in confusion. It sinks in it’s a bomb. In a flash, all of your confidence, all that hubris is suddenly unfounded. Left reeling mentally, the second--and then third--blasts go off, each one driving home the reality.Your senses focus through the haze and you see your best friends, Alex and Mauve, both clearly injured. Their state only highlights your failure to be and know better than everyone around you. Disoriented you rise to your feet, only to realize there’s nothing you can do. The situation is already too dire and you’re powerless to change it, just like all those years ago...even after all you’ve done, you’re still worthless when it matters. Frozen in place by your own weakness and inadequacy you trigger.

[INSERT POST-TRIGGER SHIZZ]

2 months since trigger (and Behemoth).

Honorable Mentions

He’s had a total of three girlfriends, two in highschool and one in college, none of the relationships lasting more than four months. The first was shallow and manipulative. The second was caring, but “too needy,” (normal, but he didn’t want to give her time) and the third was amazing for two months until she realized some of his deeper issues--which he refused to acknowledge, resulting in the break-up.

Personality

Motivations:

Sexuality: Heterosexual.
Likes:

• Learning.

Dislikes:

Derangement:

Parahumanism

Skills:

Classification: Tinker|Thinker.
Details: As a multitrigger, Cassian possesses three powers, one from his own trigger, and two from those of his clustermates. His primary power is the strongest with the others being significantly less so, though still far from ineffectual. Below are detailed the various particulars of said powers.

Tinker Primary

Cassian’s primary power enables him to create a set of devices that can “record” and then “replay” events. However, rather than simply recording or playing the sound and light of an event, his tinkertech allows him to record all the properties of an occurrence. Once recorded, any effect in a given recording can be isolated and then “played,” which will cause the effect of the recorded phenomena to occur without the circumstances which caused them. As a result of this, most of his tinkertech includes a recording apparatus and a device utilized to play the effects he has refined into playable discs.

Thinker Secondary

One of two lesser, though ultimately still invaluable, powers, Cassian is capable of choosing any individual and viewing the actions they might take in his situation so long as they are not nearby. Someone within the same room or the adjacent rooms--or even apartments as an example--would be unreachable by this ability. Conversely someone several floors or buildings off--and any other distance further--would be easily simulated.

Thinker Tertiary

Last and--though useful--least among his abilities, Cassian is capable of drawing on this thinker power to temporarily mimic the aspects or behavior of someone else. This includes things such as feats of athleticism, guile, accuracy, or even brief--if potent--physical strength.

Limitations: As with the details of his trio of powers, herein lie the various weaknesses and downsides to them.

Tinker Primary

While his tinkertech can enable him to accomplish any number of incredible--typically impossible--things he is very much limited by his methodology and--furthermore--the bent of his powers. Perhaps most notable of his tinker-power’s limitations is the fact that he can only effectively create his “recording” and “playing” apparatus. This is compounded by the fact that he cannot create new effects, even though he is capable of mimicking the effects of virtually anything he records. Furthermore, his tinkertech must integrate silver into its design as an essential material--the more silver the better. The more silver he integrates into the design of his creations, the more stable, effective, and generally reliable they tend to be, with the inverse being just as applicable. Beyond this, for reasons unknown, his power has a strong focus on combat, making it significantly easier for him to make things that would assist him in such situations. It should be noted, as well, that he cannot hybridize or otherwise fabricate effects, instead relying on previously recorded “data” to create things. As a result this means that he cannot truly make anything new, only mimic things he has seen in the past.

Thinker Secondary

While this power can simulate the hypothetical actions of a person in his circumstances, it cannot be copied by his tinker power and furthermore is limited by proximity making it sadly impossible for him to use it to predict the actions of others during combat encounters...unless he is significantly far away during them. Beyond this it is worth knowing that he is somewhat vulnerable during his use of this power as it causes the simulation and reality to intersect. Though he is able to largely discern the simulation from reality it still leaves him distracted and unfocused with it taking longer for him to adjust if he uses the power for longer periods of time.

Thinker Tertiary

While potentially potent in a pinch, Cassian’s second thinker power is rather difficult in the longterm as he has found that it is only possible to tap into a given person once...ever. This is without mentioning that the duration of the effect is rather short, though it varies significantly he has noticed that mimicked mental or behavioural traits tend to last longer than physical ones.

Typically mental traits will last around 7-10 minutes with those closer to his own lasting on the longer side than those that are further away from things he is capable of. Physical traits on the other hand last even less time, tending towards 5 minutes or less, making them significantly useful, but still quite fleeting at best. Feats of this nature that are less possible for him fade faster than those that are closer to his own abilities. Lastly, he is only capable of copying natural human skills and abilities much to his chagrin.

Equipment

ITEM:

ITEM:

ITEM:

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

---

She had scoped things out and set her projection--with mover powers--to evacuate as many people as possible as quickly as she could. She’d done it from the very top of the PRT building so she had seen when capes had begun to arrive on scene. Roughly five minutes before the speech, when most people who were coming had arrived, Evelyn finished the final run with her projection. She’d gotten her parents out and she’d called them too. Having kept careful track of time she used her remaining minutes to do very cursory scans of the capes below. She barely focused on individuals, instead picking up on trends and getting a general sense of powers. A sense so vague that it was almost unhelpful. When she felt her projection become available, it manifested immediately, taking the form of something large and bird-like. She hoped on its back, and parts of it split away and clutched at her as other powers interacted to keep her safe and unaffected by what would usually be a disorienting fall.

So it was that she swooped in dramatically, flying over the capes, before her projection landed and deposited her gently on the ground. She kept her distance from the crowd and dismissed her projection. It took mere seconds for it to become available, but she didn’t use it. Looking at all these heroes...and even villains was...something. She frowned and a cold pang of numb loss pulsed through her chest, causing her to grit her teeth. This moment, in the past, would have been awe inspiring, exciting--if grave--but now...she just felt cold.

Intentionally, she stayed out of sight from her team, instead gingerly scanning those she hadn’t touched on before. SHe was discovering new limits to her projection and her thinker power. The pressure was mounting and would continue to do so if she didn’t ‘refresh’ her projection between large quantities of scans.

Legend began speaking and she shifted her attention to listen. Serious, daunting words for an intimidating situation. Fighting a threat that none of them had encountered before--barring those who had fought endbringers in the past. It made sense. Play to your strengths, be careful, don’t get cocky. The message was clear enough. Things progressed and she manifested her projection as a small, lightweight flying serpent. It flitted between capes, snatched up a communicator from Lillian, and then disappeared back into the crowd, before making its way back to her. She grabbed the device and affixed it in the same moment that the projection demanifested.

The silver silhouette of her tulpa’s shadow glowed faintly in the aftermath and she took a deep breath, before letting it out slowly. As the air left her lungs she tried to relax and in doing so something else clicked for her. The silver light of her power expanded...growing and growing until it encompassed the whole area. She got a flash of a blinding headache before dialing back and avoiding contact or focus on certain capes. The pain eased.

Her eyes already closed, she felt a smile spread across her face as she returned her breathing to normal. Patterns and twisting geometries faded and shifted through her mind’s eye as she began honing in on the powers whose mechanics seemed most helpful to her.

Alexandria. Legend. Outsider. Messiah. Charm. Blastmaster. Protean. Unknown(Metanoia). Lamprey. Abaddon. SWARM. Mire. Sylph. Unknown(Chivalry). Sonika. Guardian Angel. Unknown(Fractal King). Unknown(Bear cape). Noble. Hermes. Cascade. Furnace. Salem. Unnamed Mover.

She set to it, immersing herself in the process while others pared off from the group.

Power Analysis

Alexandria:
Single phase temporal matter lock. Adaptive limit. Offloaded consciousness. Focus, enhanced retention and processing. Null Gravity. Limit, personal. Focus, Physiological modifier, enhanced resistance; strength; locomotion.

Legend:
Open connection. Altered state; photonic font. Limit, psychological degradation. Focus, enhanced visual acuity; photonic blast generation; lightwave locomotion; physiological repair and absorption. Variation--Photonic Blast: Effect and trajectory modulation control.

Charm:
State-entanglement object anchoring. Limit, distance degradation. Focus, shared state. Drastic physical enhancement. Focus, durability, regeneration, strength.

Blastmaster:
Focus initiated combustion generation. Limit, visual/awareness. Control Mechanism, Intent. Automatic force dampening. Blast effect variability.

Unknown(Metanoia)
Bio-mechanical mutative regeneration. Limit, flesh generation rate; range; physical law. Out-of-phase to in-phase organic material integration. Enhanced physiological awareness and control.

Lamprey:
Contact-initiated matter annihilation. Limit, range; effect travel. Enhanced physical resistance and strength. Limit, temporary; doubled physiological capacity.

Abaddon:
Altered state: Shifted physical composition. Focus, enhanced resistance. Limit, fragility. Awareness-initiated neuro-physiological response. Destructive expanded autonomy. Limit, range; inorganic material; control. Modifier: Escalation. Limit, form lock--damage threshold; Neural-synchronization delay.

SWARM:
High precision expanded autonomy. Limit, range; mass-weight threshold. Enhanced processing.

Mire:
Altered state: Gas--Solid state modulation. Hallucinogenic fear proliferation. Limit, range; gas generation rate. Offloaded consciousness. Control Method; neurological intent. Expanded awareness. Bound limit: Proliferated material.

Unknown(Chivalry):
Contact-initiated phase modulation. Limit, inorganic. Focus, material severance. Shard-access ~ Enhanced predictive knowledge. Limit, time; variable reliability.

Forced-shard synchronization. Alternate dimension-shift manifestation. Control method: Neurological/vocal command. Limit, control; personal. Error--paradox creation. Error Correction: Swift physical degradation. Death-initiated forced-shard integration. Limit, Personal--alternate.

Sonika:
Gaseous material manipulation. Control method: Neurological. Limit, range. Minorly enhanced processing.

Unknown(Fractal King):
Altered state: Awareness-initiated form transcendence. Focus, size, durability, and strength enhancement. Limit, witness-based enhancement variable; material requirement. Form shift error. Bystander neurological connection, rapid memory degradation.

Unknown(Bear):
Single minion generation and control. Limit, control. Minion--personal integration. Enhanced physical resistance, strength, and speed. Awareness integration.

Cascade:
Time-space breadth compression. Focus, locomotion; enhancement. Limit, quantity. Passage-initiated momentum alteration; object-individual enhancement.

Salem:
Geothermal thermal imbuement. Limit, range; control. Time-space breadth compression. Limit, geothermal trajectories. Enhanced thermal resistance.

Unknown Mover:
Time-space breadth compression. Limit, range; organic material. Shifted and enhanced awareness|processing.

Messiah:
Protective absorption. Focus, energetic. Physical limiter. Control appropriation. Non-adaptive control method. Upwards limit, irrelevant. Dimensional access. Energetic storage method: Dimensional. Access threshold: Neural interfacing. Ranged application.

Protean:
Physiological alteration: Cellular Transmutation. Limit, personal; template based; static mass. Control method, neural-based, shard interpretation. Backloaded consciousness processing. Limit, Physical anchor required~~Brain~~

Outsider:
>>>~Offloaded consciousness. Joint anchor. Terminal link.

Prime Vessel: Activation Trigger access. Altered behavioral patterns. Neural path chimerization. Transdimensional interchange.

Second Vessel: Activation Trigger access – Host. Augmented automaton. Sensory input: Electromagnetic|Sonic stimulus. Vocal Output: Extra dimensional phase. Specialized physiology: Transmutive conduit. Accelerated matter appropriation. Hyperdense multi-phase core. Focus: Kinetic energy. Redirection: Defense. Offense. Propulsion. Charge: Solar. Control Method: Shard offloading via-Second Vessel – Full-spectrum embodiment.

Guardian Angel:
Altered State: Physiological alteration. Transdimensional mass vampirism/modulation. Focus: Durability. Enhanced physical output. Expanded form: Wings(2). Sight-initiated neurochemical tampering.

Sylph:
>>>~Maladapted shard. Synchronization error. Error correction success: 85%.
Non-standard anatomy: Metal-composite dermal layer. Homeostatic reduction. Thermal retention. Expanded physicality: Wing Pair(2). Tail. Digit weaponization: Successful. Error—Increased bear weight. Correction: Physical alteration – Enhanced strength, speed, physical awareness. Metallic layer, dermal shedding/manipulation. Shard-bud detected – Power expansion: Atmospheric pressurization. Modifier: Escalation. Limit: Focus.

Noble:
Physical alteration; Phased mass, back-loaded respiratory function. Sub-dermal dimensional phase gas reservoir. Release method: Dermal Pores. Control schema; neural, muscular, dermal interfacing. Intuitive knowledge: Gases. Extended awareness. Limit: Auto-generated gases. Control Limit: Range.

Hermes:
Time-space breadth compression. Static spatial reduction. Shard-host sync error. Limit: Host physiological deterioration. Waypoint queuing. Physical augmentation: Three-fold physiology. Travel mechanism: Sub-dimensional extraplanar phase shifting. Shard sync error: Broken limiter – Warning, possible material intermingling. Shard sync error-correction: Imposed limit – Prerequisite ~ Host destination awareness.

Furnace:
Dimensional phase thermal manifestation. Control schema: Neural|Shard backloading. High Precision. Physical alteration: Locked homeostatic equilibrium. Dual-phased physicality. High precision dermal temperature modulation.

Captain Morales:
One-way Neuro-chemical brain-to-brain interfacing. Ego-jacking. Control schema: Neural. Limit: Range.

Briefly her head swam and throbbed faintly, but the pain faded and with it the disorientation as the information organized in her mind, allowing her to focus anew. The silver light of her power expanded further, becoming millions of strands of ghostly light. At a thought the strands shot outwards from a central point, startling many, but impacting none as the shadow of light transposed itself with every material it could manage.

Stone; Lead; Silver; Steel; Iron, Glass; Plastics (of many sorts); Crystal; Flesh; Bone; Sand; Soil; Fire; Air; Water; Electricity; Light; Cloth; Wood; Rubber; Foam... and the list just kept going. A smile played across her features and she snapped her fingers. The light of her projection retracted all at once into something the size of a pinprick, before expanding back outwards again.

Again it became as threads of silver light, weaving into something greater.

‘Give me something that can fight him. Give me something that can hold him off and bolster those around me. Make it strong, make it fast, make it deadly and inspiring.’

She started interweaving and locking in physical traits, assigning layers to them. She took the positive properties of each material the silver shadow had gathered and she combined them, casting aside many of their failings in the process. Then, finally, as the silhouette of wavering strands formed in the air above her--towering in height--she switched gears.

Her brow furrowed and the muscles in her neck stood out as she focused, grinding her teeth without realizing, clenching her fists without notice as she tried combinations of powers--failing and failing till she found ones that worked.

Gradually she started relaxing, but it was incremental. By the time she opened her eyes--her mind thrumming with a mixture of tension and power--almost every other cape had departed the scene. She wasn’t sure how long it had been exactly, but she could hear the sounds of destruction and battle in the distance alongside the roars of Behemoth.

Turning towards Behemoth she watched for a moment, accessing the situation.

The final power spooled out in her mind and then wound tightly into an intricate multi-faceted formation that she would have found impossible to describe. It was beautiful.

Permanent altered state: Three-phase temporal physiological matter lock. Transdimensional mass compression. Focus, durability; malleability. Minion--personal integration. Transmutive Regeneration--triple modifier: Absorption conduit. Awareness-initiated transcendent escalation. Null gravity. Limit, personal. Focus multiplier: Wholesale physiological enhancement. Material font. Limit, Personal. Focus, survivability. Exotic energy proliferation. Limit, impersonal. Focus, Wholesale enhancement; Enhanced processing and confidence. Enhanced physical resistance and speed. Phase modulation. Limit, personal. High precision expanded autonomy. Focus, variable|Effect modulation. Limit, range; inorganic; energetic. Storage method: Internal dimensional matrix. Space-time breadth compression. Limit, impersonal; range(short);.organic; interval.

She took a deep breath and then gestured forwards, palm up and in a brilliant flash the silhouette of light resolved into something truly otherworldly. Possessing barely any physical form to speak of, the tulpa’s visage was almost impossible to parse, but its power...that was palpable. It was a silver mass of slowly undulating threads composed of silver light that were somehow both ethereal, solid, and fluid all at once.

The girl who had conjured it smiled up at her creation--and the expression held more warmth than perhaps she had expressed or held for her own team for quite some time. She stepped forwards and the featherlight threads caught her steps as she walked upwards on it into the air as it hovered like some kind of eldritch seraph.

Her eyes shone and she knew that was what she’d call it. The Seraph.

Silver light wove itself around her and she disappeared into the gently writhing mass of ethereal threads. The Seraph began to float slowly towards Behemoth and the world around it seemed to push and bend away from it as if affected by an unseen inexorable weight. As it moved, threads of light converged with her body and became entwined, shifting phases and becoming one with her flesh. Her senses expanded and over the surface of every strand of light a prismatic display pulsed outwards.

Together the Seraph and its master turned their gaze upon Behemoth. The world around them trembled--glass rattled, buildings shook, the ground cracked beneath their might, the air froze and then became a chaotic gale, and then their voice rang out.

"Behemoth chose the wrong city."

---

---

In the next moment a blur of liquid light slammed into Behemoth with all the ferocity of a lightning bolt. Threads of light intertwined and unfurled faster than could be easily followed before the mass shot back--threads making contact with buildings and even the air itself before it moved and resolved into what could barely be called the silhouette of a monolithic figure.

Those who had been between its position and destination were unmarred and utterly unaffected by its passing, in fact they might even notice that they felt stronger...sharper.

Where it had struck the Endbringer there was a massive gash, its crystalline flesh shattered, burned, and sheared away.

From afar Tulpa smiled, "Hero-killer? Not in my fucking city."

At that the Seraph once more wrapped her in its protective embrace.

Together again, they blurred and the fight resumed from afar, but a moment having passed.

While no one listened...a countdown silently rang out.

Ten seconds.

Yoshua171's Project Storage

CAPE NAME HERE

"QUOTE."

Hider

_{[ ♦ ] Bio}

---

♦ Name: Their civilian identity.
♦ Age: GM was ~3 years ago, so keep that in mind if you want a character who triggered before the end of the world.
♦ Loyalty: Are you a member of the Wards, the local villain team, or independent?
♦ Appearance: Pictures are fine and dandy, but I want you to be able to describe them in words. Include their costume design here as well. Remember to be realistic. A 14 year old kid off the street isn't going to be able to make a high end costume without funding or resources outside what's normally available, and most obvious materials can be tracked.

[+]

Picture

♦ History:

[+]

How has their life gone up until now? Be sure to cover all the major events, including their trigger. If your character got their powers before Gold Morning take into account that they have had their powers for over three years. If you're importing your character from CoD, include a brief summary of what happened in that canon to your character (and that 10 years have passed). And yes, you can have bought your powers from Cauldron, just remember that it's still pretty secret. No cauldron powers are available that are younger than three years. Gold Morning stopped artificial power distribution.

_{[ ♦ ] Personality}

---

♦ Motivation: What is it that they want? What are they working toward as a larger goal? Feel free to get as creative or as simple as you like.

♦ Derangement: Powers affect a person. Gaining a form of invincibility changes how someone acts, and how they present themselves. Powers can heavily influence someone's development. This section is not expressly required, as powers affect some people more than others.

_{[ ♦ ] Parahumanism}

---

♦ Skills: Non-power based abilities you have. The things you know and things you can do, like great memory, martial arts talent, video gaming, etc.

♦ Classification: The GM will tell you what to put here after you power has been reviewed/approved.
♦ Mechanics: The details and limitations of a parahuman’s power(s). Be specific! Does your power abide by the “Manton Effect,” if so, how? If not...good for you, what are its other limitations? Make sure not to describe just the way your power manifests, but also how it does so to some degree (even if your character does not know)!

♦ Equipment: What sort of goodies do you have on you when you're in costume?

ITEM:

ITEM:

Yoshua171's Project Storage

CAPE NAME HERE

"QUOTE."

Hider

_{[ ♦ ] Bio}

---

♦ Name:
♦ Age:
♦ Loyalty:
♦ Appearance:

[+]

Picture

♦ History:

[+]

Background

_{[ ♦ ] Personality}

---

♦ Motivation:

♦ Derangement:

_{[ ♦ ] Parahumanism}

---

♦ Skills:

♦ Classification:
♦ Mechanics:

♦ Equipment:

ITEM:

ITEM:

Yoshua's Character Storage Mark VII

Ashai, M. Rhazan

---

---

Name: Ashai, Mannis. Rhazan.
Alias: Vitruvian.
Age: 27.
Alignment: Villain.
Loyalty: Last Minute.
Appearance:

Mask

History:

Hider

Trigger: It’s been like this for awhile now, days spent at clinic after clinic, treatment after treatment. The cancer waxes and wanes, but each time you fight against the odds, each time it goes into remission, another few hours proves the treatments futile, the tumor still prominent. After years of this, you're desperate for a treatment that will last, something to break through it all. That's why you took up Dr. Ignar's suggestion of amputation. Even living life as a cripple would be preferable to this hell of unending pain. After you wake up, the first thing you notice is relief. The pain is absent, blissfully gone. It’s only when you try to scratch your nose that you remember the cost of this treatment, your limbs--and agency--gone, replaced only with a sense of helplessness. The next few weeks prove to be difficult to adjust to. No limbs means every action requires help, every movement being a burden on others; it’s paralyzing. Still, the pain is gone, and it’s enough. Then comes the regular checkup, a month after the operation, and the news that a tumor has re-emerged, this time on your back. The dread settles within, knowing that you gave up all of yourself, any chance of living your own life, but in the end, none of it mattered. Trigger.

Personality

Motivations:

Sexuality: Straight.
Likes:

Dislikes:

Derangement:

Parahumanism

Skills:

Classification: Tinker|Changer.
Details: Ashai’s power is one of monstrous refinement, allowing him to generate additional biomass in the form of crude tumorous growths or a steady flow of flesh from the terminating points of his shoulders and hips. Furthermore, his power alters his nervous system, giving him enhanced awareness of his own body and things ‘jacked into’ it, enhancing his dexterity and body control. Furthermore, the power output, or ‘voltage’ of his nervous system is drastically enhanced, growing as he generates more biomass. Beyond this, his ability to safely digest substances--including toxins--is significantly increased as his power will translate them into usable material.

However, the central aspect of his power is what he can do with the biological material he generates, as he can harness it in mundane or alien ways, fashioning his flesh into limbs, augments, physical enhancements, tools and weapons. Precisely what he ‘builds’ with his flesh is fairly open, but the actual focus of his tinkering isn’t. His specialties are Augmentation, Refinement, and Weaponization. Despite using biological material, his power allows his biotech to produce effects that would not typically be physically viable.

Limitations: First and foremost, Ashai’s power is limited solely to his own biomass. While the aforementioned removes a need to gather resources like most tinkers, it doesn’t remove the time that it can take him to build effective augments, tools, or weapons. Furthermore, Ashai’s power requires all of his biotech be jacked into his nervous system for power and control. This means that he can become more easily overwhelmed by stimuli than the typical individual. This sensory overload is caused by his altered nervous system’s enhancement of input delivered by his sensory organs, causing him to experience the world more ‘vividly’. As he creates additional augments and tools the possibility for overload increases. Lastly it should be noted that his power’s focus means that tech which allows him to more directly make an impact in the world is favored over more indirect means. The further away from this ideal of direct impact he gets, the more unreliable, unstable, frail, or otherwise deeply flawed his biotech becomes.

Equipment

ITEM:

ITEM:

ITEM:

ITEM:

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Chatterbox

Theme

---

The plan was carried out with brutal efficiency, which became quite literal as Thunderbolt laid into the Doctor with far more savagery than was necessary. Though, perhaps not less than the bastard deserved. However, he had little time to dwell on that as Patriarch was put on screen, whom he scoffed at. The bastard had the city in his hand, but it would all be quite temporary.

This other cape though, they could be problematic. Turning his attention there, Chatterbox held back, forcing himself to listen to the man's words rather than begin planning for new eventualities. Apparently the man was also Doctor Dean, in a fashion, at least...an alternate version of them. Strange, it must have been something similar to the clones of him and Whimsy they'd dealt with after the warehouse.

This, on the otherhand, seemed beneficial. Perhaps they could use this...Chivalry. Perhaps they could bring him to the Broker or he could enthrall him. Either could be quite advantageous. He smiled and moved to close the distance, perhaps get a handshake and give a greeting. That way they could start a dialog--....

The thought trailed off into silence, replaced only by the wailing sirens. A dreadful sound, not just in pitch and volume, but in what it symbolized.

An Endbringer attack.

"Fuck."

He broke out into a cold sweat and turned to his teammates all his schemes briefly forgotten.

"What do we do?" For once he was utterly bereft of anything to say. He was stricken by the situation and likely still quite in shock by it. The gravity was just too much. After all what could he possibly--....

Thunderbolt spoke and the words—his name—rang through Drake's head for a long moment, as if suspended in an infinite echo chamber. He ground his teeth, his jaw clenched, his eyes focused and he let out a shuddering breath. He'd stepped onto this path, there was no turning away from it.

"You're right." He responded simply before he switched communication channels and simultaneously rattled off orders and tapcode to his many...many thralls and inductees. Those within the airport would begin organizing themselves and moving towards the evacuation points in as fast, but calm, a manner as his control could manage.

Chatterbox had begun organizing the evacuation.

---

All across the city people got calls, texts, and other notifications. Responding swiftly they made calls or bid others nearby to go to the bunkers. Those at the outskirts of Denver packed up and started driving—well before panic could properly settle into the population. The empowered of the mastermind's cabal made contact with as many people as possible, seeding their influence and smoothing the edges of every interaction they could. They were often as loud and commanding as they could manage without seeming terribly strange. Then again, given the circumstances, people would be too shellshocked or preoccupied to notice.

With their Master's help, many more lives would be saved without combat intervention than was typical in situations such as these.

Of course...in the longterm, there very well might be a price to pay for that blessing. So perhaps, rather than a gift, it was an exchange.

A freudian bargain, perhaps.

Only time could tell and that mistress was often silent.

---

Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa

---

Things went so fast that she was really only able to translate what had happened a few moments after. Confoam Grenades—multiple???—went off, her projection acted, two guns were fired and ultimately Protean was contained. Moments after all that her projection noticed the widescale attack that the traitor had been about to mount. They'd only avoided it very narrowly. It was something of a miracle and she found herself forcing a long, deep breath—having forgotten to breath for a moment there. Relief flooded through her and she even felt her anger and disgust with Protean assuaged somewhat, fading into the background. With things taken care of pretty neatly, she stood from her crosslegged position and dismissed her projection, which swiftly shimmered and then flashed out of existence, becoming once more a silver glow in the air. As she made her way through the halls and to her team Decoy contacted them.

”Wards, there’s been a new development you need to see!”

"Oh," Evelyn said as a projector activated on the wall near her. Relief was quickly replaced by bile in her throat and a clenching of fists. "Patriarch," she growled, before choking on her own disgust. Forcibly she calmed her breathing, making it even and slow. Gradually the anger relaxed and settled into something cold in her chest. Her jaw remained clenched, but her fingers relaxed.

From the villain's words she understood one thing, the man had corrupted Denver. Still, it wasn't beyond saving, she reasoned. In that moment she vowed to save her hometown, her city. She promised to save it from people like Patriarch and those who had allowed him to remain in power.

At the thought, the light of her projection shifted, and then slid into the ground only to surround her in the next moment, wreathing her in faint silver-blue light.

The tyrant kept talking, but she was done listening.

Evelyn continued on her way back to her teammates. After maybe a minute she arrived to see blood...lots of blood, and the Director at the center of it. Her eyes widened and she ran over.

"What happened," she demanded, but the Director was already losing consciousness. Mouth gaping, Evelyn took a step back and Lillian stepped up, trying to staunch the bleeding and help the man while she floundered for an explanation.

Then came the sirens, accompanied by a sinking dread, and followed swiftly by cold fury.

Evelyn knew what she had to do.

"I can't help here," Evelyn said, turning her back on the Director. He was corrupt anways, just like the rest of the PRT.

"I'm going, I'll leave comms on." Then, her shoulders squared, she walked into the elevator, pressed the button—using her projection to sense which one without turning—and let the doors close without a single look back at her team.

She was going to get a vantage point and then use her projection to help evacuate as people arrived to help fight Behemoth.

After all, an Endbringer was the greatest evil wasn't it?

So who better than her to fight it?

---

Outsider

---

Waiting, hoping for good news, Outsider hovered just outside of the building. Then the screaming started and the sound of flames. He frowned, then something far worse occurred. Sirens. If he'd had a face his eyes and mouth would have opened wide, but as it stood he merely got a whole body shiver, which was saying something due to his size. Flashes of memory struck him. Drowning, screams, the struggles of his grandfather, the sheer destruction as water drowned a big part of his ancestry, his culture, and then the long wait after the pain—both mental and physical—of that fateful experience.

He couldn't swallow down the terror and having been dull for so long he found himself paralyzed by it. It was not until Sylph called out to him that he snapped out of the stupor. Delayed a moment, he finally acted, tendrils snaking into the building where they reached Eyeblight's human guise. Precise waves of force burst out from the tips of his tentacles, blasting away the flame even as one tendril socked him over the head hard enough to knock him out. Then one massive limb wrapped itself around Eyeblight like a cobra, leaving only enough space for him to get air, before hauling him out the window.

With the villain dealt with, he turned his mind to the greater problem. Now, steeled against his fear and able to rationalize that this wasn't Leviathan and that he wasn't that helpless boy anymore, he flew up somewhat.

"Sylph, we need to get Eyeblight to the PRT where he can be safely contained, but I can do it faster than you. You should evacuate whoever you can to the safehouses in the city."

He didn't wait for her response, but instead stretched his senses to the brink, oriented himself, and then blasted into motion—though slower than usual so as not to give Eyeblight a concussion. Swiftly he accelerated, holding the bastard against the underside of his form, still entombed by a limb. His acceleration didn't decrease as he kept flying, pushing his Vessel as fast as he could. Soon he reached the point where he could sense the HQ, at which point he slowly started decelerating. He arrived safely, touching down just outside. Gingerly he used one of his head tendrils to open the PRT building's door.

"I'm leaving Eyeblight here, he's unconscious and needs to be detained immediately." His hollow voice boomed with an alien authority as he snaked the tentacle directly into the building and then laid Eyeblight inside. That done, he closed the door just as gingerly, turned, and shot into the air almost like a bullet—blurring as he suddenly accelerated all at once.

He was on a mission and his first goal was to get as many civilians as possible to the bunkers.