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Prodigy:
(ooc) Player Discussion:
Contest #1 (complete):
Contest Entries (Only)
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Taraqha (Taraqha)
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Just barly under the limit:
* Public Name: Rocky
* Secret Identity: "what dat?"
* Race: Unknown
* Birthplace: Unknown
* Age: Unknown
* Occupation: N/A
* Gender: Unknown, male possibly?
* Moral Standing: Oddball
* Appearance: Rocky's current appearance is that of a 12~15 foot tall humanoid hybrid of some breed of spider and beetle. It's appearance is more in line of a massively sized and muscled man spider with eight limbs, two usually being used for legs and six for arms. His body is covered in thick, black, spiked beetle carapace that protects most of his body expect for his mouth, joints, and his many eyes. The only unusual feature, well unusual for a massive man-spider/beetle, is he has a tail ... quite long and heavily armored with four spiked carapace balls clustered around each other at the tip.
* Super Powers: Containing a large store of DNA and able to accumulate and spontaneously evolve, his body is capable of mutating to adapt to situations. While this takes time it has to be willing instated or the situations being it on very extreme. However due to VERY bad experiences with this, he will not willingly do this unless forced. (Unwilling mutations will not always be good, just his body adapting to a situation…. This could be very BAD)
From mutations in the past, or from his brood, he has natural weapons. This come of in the forms of organic weapons (blades, and two kinds of “guns”) and the ability to spray his digestive acids defensively (only has a limited supply each day for this, can easily use it all up at once)
Is a powerhouse, plain and simple. Could problem bench press an unloaded simi-truck, and has the durability of the average ACP. Is also quite fast, being able to run a good 20 miles an hour, 50~70 if he drops to all eight legs.
Yet more brood powers he is regenerating his body constantly, while it’s not much he can heal from anything he lives through if given the time to do so.
* Super Weaknesses: Has an extremely high metabolism, if he dose not eat least ¾ of his body weight every day his body starts shutting down slowly. While this takes time it starts immediately if he dose not eat at all in a day. First goes his ability to create organic weapons and mutate, then his strength and speed diminishes, then he is no longer able to produce enough acids to use defensively or any “ammo” for the organic “guns”, and finally he stops regenerating wounds. If he dose not eat for more than three or four days, he falls into hibernation and will not awaken for days or until food is brought before him.
Being a bug that likes dark damp places he don’t like bright lights and will not go out in the day unless forced…. Extremely bright lights can even blind some/all of his eyes.
His senses are adapted to good hearing and extremely good sense of smell. His senses of sight are not that grate (unless in the dark) and touch quite poor. Most of his touch is centered in the hands/feet of his eight arms, the rest of his body the only place he can feel is a few hairs sticking out between plates of armor… he can be under attack or have people on his body (long as they don’t touch the hairs) and he won’t even notice it unless he hears or smells it. (and that don’t mean he will know there trying to hurt him or where on him some one is)
Because of a brood link to a hive mind in there nature (though to far from his kind to be of use) he is extremely venerable to any form of mind control. While not so easily able to control his body it would be quite easy to make him do one’s bidding with a little mental manipulation.
One of his biggest flaws is his form, his size and appearance makes it imposable for him to fit into human society.
* Abilities (Non-super talents of character): Can learn physical skills and task QUITE quickly, and remember how to do them for a long time.
* Inadequacies (Non-super shortcomings of character): Rocky is stupid, he’s VERY VERY stupid… I can not stress this….. by human standards his IQ would be some where in the 50~70 range (maybe lower)…
He’s EXSTREAMLY gullible, and easily manipulated…. You could quite easily convince him the sky is pink but only he sees it for blue because he’s ugly and the sky don’t like him. He’s even more easily convinced if food is involved.
* Personality: Rocky really isn't smart enough to have much of a personality.... he's just gullible and hungry....oh well, what can you do? ... Oh, and he dose like to brake things, but then again who doesn’t?
He prity much spends most of his time eating, thinking about eating, or looking for things to eat.
However his favorite Earth foods include: Cows, Baby/Young Deers, and Squirrels in large quainties, though one or two is a nice treat
* Origin / History: Rockys race developed over millions of years from insectoid creatures, in a world with little atmosphere to protect them from cosmic radiations. The many races of insects grew and mutated, evolving to adapt to the harsh environment... in time they grew to be one race, holding the massive genetic structure of all the old races in one but only drawing on certain strains of DNA to make up many diverse broods.
The eventually took to space lead by the smartest of there broods, often dubbed the "brain bugs" by other races for it often seamed this brood was the only one with any sorts of higher intelligence. The colonized world after world with living ships and massive hives, rather the world was habitual or not it did not mater.
When a human like race encountered them, they grew fearful of there constant expansion and powerful living machines..... they struck with out warning tarring there hives apart with massive explosive devices, and assassinating the brain bugs one after another, destroying any hive with a brain bug or any large military force.... War came quickly and ended quickly, surgical strikes ageist them wiped out the brain bugs brood in a matter of weeks leaving the race with crippled numbers and no real leadership.
Now ruled by those most powerful they make allies with other races, and with there help have sent pods with there DNA out to infect inelegant humanoid races in hopes of creating a new "Brain bug" brood..... Rocky is one of many that was sent in following such a pod in order to assure it's successful ...... unfrontally for Rock they weren't smart enough to think far enough ahead for how he would get off the planet when his mission was complete.
* Writing Sample: Rocky moved along the street near the city park watching the smaller humanoid run about making the oddest of sounds, he wondered if these where the creatures he was spoce to infect, and how he should go about choosing them.... maybe the pod had done it's job and already chose and infected several of them though, but how would he find them? hum.....
Wait.. what was that smell? What ever it was sure smelled quite nice..... He walked over torge it finding a building with lots of glass in the front and many small creatures in side. Oooooooo a food court! Expecting the glass to move out of the way, and not to bothered as it didn't when he moved forward through it, Rocky proceeded to grab various animals throwing them into his maw as he muchned down on them. He was quite happy about thing until about half way through eating all the food the room started to get rather smoky making it hard to see..... and it was not all that pleasant to breath in ether..... he felt around for some stray food but couldn't find any... and with all this nasty smoke, that just keep getting worse and worse, he couldn't smell or see the food ether.
With much frustration he made his way out of the smoke back into the street to be greeted by an arch of the small humanoids with little metal sticks all pointed at him.... how odd they where. He looked about as his vision cleared, sniffing at the air..... his eyes widening he made a charge!... The SWAT team around him panicked and opened fire as the monstrosity charged them.... and then leap over them landing in a tree in the park?
As dirt cleared from the air, Rocky was seen happy muching on some squirrels in what use to be a tree.
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Blue Light Special (Cobalt)
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Public Name: Donovan Sant
Secret Identity: None. Formerly known as ‘Clockwork’, formerly known as ‘Project Timekeeper’
Race: Semi-cybernetic Human
Birthplace: The Black Saint’s Clock Tower, Northeastern Siberia.
Age: 43
Occupation: Drifter
Gender: Male
Moral Standing: Sant’s morality is shifty. In most cases, he acts as a hero would, but he has in the past shown little care for the law or for the rights of others.
Appearance: Sant stands at 6’8”, with a large muscular frame. He has pale skin and black hair shaved down almost to his scalp, a strong Russian face with brown eyes. The left side of his head is open to the air, and within is a mass of clockwork – gears, springs, levers, pulleys, belts, and other such machinery. Other parts of his body are similarly open – his forearms, his lower torso and his legs beneath the knee. The clockwork inside him is always running, and wherever he goes, he ticks.
Super Powers: Sant is, in essence, a living clockwork mechanism. His strength and durability, therefore, are limited only to the upper bounds of his structural integrity.
Sant carries with him the brass Pendulum from the Black Saint’s Clock Tower. He uses it as a weapon, with tremendous and devastating effect.
Super Weaknesses: Parts of Sant’s clockwork are exposed, and as such he must take exceptional care to protect them. Should something be jammed in to one of his mechanisms, he would grind to a halt. He would not die, but he would be unable to move that part of himself at all until the obstruction was removed. Similarly, should one of his parts come unloosened or break in some way, he would be crippled.
Electricity and heat are also constant dangers for Sant, as his frame is mostly metal, but he still has internal organs that he needs to protect.
Abilities: Sant was a brawler before he became a machine, so he is well versed in improvised combat. He is bilingual and fairly intelligent – he is not a genius, but he is above the norm.
Inadequacies: Sant is slow. He weighs an enormous amount, and though his strength is immense he cannot move his mechanized body very quickly. He can’t swim – to be trapped underwater would likely mean death.
Sant has problems with electrical devices. He doesn’t like them at all, and they don’t like him either.
Personality: Sant was originally meant to have little personality at all, as the Black Saint constructed him to be a henchman. Upon coming into his own, however, he’s found a personality – he decided not to be embittered and despondent, like his ‘brother’, and to embrace society. As a result, he’s become the kind of man who drinks a great deal, fights a great deal, and laughs a great deal, usually all at the same time.
He is a free-willed man; uncaring for authority and easily bored with anything that is outside of his sphere of interests.
Origin: Born in communist Russia, the young man who would become Donovan Sant made the fatal mistake of running afoul of the Party, and was sent into a Siberian work-camp. Not suited for imprisonment, the man attempted an escape and lost himself in the frozen wilderness, eventually dying of exposure.
The body lay undetected, uncared for in the snow for a number of years, until a British Supervillain discovered it by accident. That man was Oliver Sant, the Black Saint – fleeing from Superheroic persecution, he ran into the relatively uninhabited wastes of northern Siberia to lick his wounds and rebuild his strength. He set up a tower in the center of a vast, empty snowfield – a twisted replication of London’s Big Ben - and he used the body of the dead Soviet man to serve as a template for his ‘masterpiece’. He called it Project Timekeeper – a man constructed of clockwork. The dream was the perfect henchman – strong, unquestioning, and nearly invincible.
He named the first success Donovan, and he was pleased with his handiwork. Donovan seemed perfect: he was intelligent enough to learn to do what the Saint asked of him, but was not independent enough to question. The Saint was so excited with his success that he created another – a ‘brother’ for his ‘son’. This would prove his downfall for, when Edgar was completed, Donovan was no longer alone.
With someone to talk to besides the Saint, Donovan had the opportunity to develop a personality, which in turn led to a need for independence. Edgar, though reluctant, began to see his brother’s point of view, and eventually the two decided to run from the Saint.
Unfortunately, they had little opportunity – the Saint had them constantly employed in the construction of a massive warmachine called the Sin Engine. They plotted when they could, yet as time passed the hope of escape seemed less and less likely. It might not have happened had it not been for a superhero raid on the Clock Tower.
KGB officials had noticed the new construction in Siberia, and had sent a team of their supers to investigate. Similarly, the CIA unofficially organized a group of freelance superheroes and snuck them into Siberia from the Bering side. The two sides stumbled upon the Tower at the same time, and a battle very nearly ensued between them – no doubt the Cold War hostilities would have grown violent, had not the overeager Black Saint engaged his Sin Engine and given both teams of supers a common enemy.
The battle lasted nearly three hours before the Black Saint was forced to leave his shattered machine and driven back into his Tower. There, in his already half-demolished hideaway, he ordered his two henchmen to defend him with their lives. Donovan and Edgar were faced with a decision.
Edgar faltered, but Donovan did not. He turned on his creator, and fought the Saint with everything he had. Their battle was intense and destructive, tearing apart the inside of the Tower as the two teams of supers tore their way in from the outside. Eventually, when the Saint had gotten the upper hand, Edgar made his decision as well – he tore down the pendulum from the Tower’s massive clock and hurled it to his brother.
The KGB and CIA teams reached the battle just as it came to a close. The Saint was dead, claimable by neither the Russians nor the Americans, and it was clear that his two henchmen had been responsible. The KGB team wanted them brought back to pay for the Saint’s crimes, but – mostly to anger them – the Americans intervened; and as they had suffered fewer casualties than their Soviet counterparts, they were the ones to get their way. The entire affair was swept under the various political rugs of the world, and quickly forgotten.
On their entry to the States, Edgar and Donovan decided to find their own ways, separately. They were family after a fashion, but the fashion of it was not one that inspired good memories. US officials attempted to help integrate them into society: Edgar, as the Saint’s second creation, was less obviously mechanical, and was given a semblance of a normal life as he requested. Donovan, whose composition was impossible to hide, was given a place on the Phantom Squad – a government funded Superteam - under the moniker of ‘Clockwork’. He stayed with it as long as his interest could hold him, though he eventually grew bored with being told what to do all the time. He broke away from the team and attempted to make his own way.
His first stop after leaving his government job was Edgar’s new home. He wanted to see how his brother was doing – but the people he found living there didn’t know anything about his brother. He began to track down Edgar, to see where he had gone; the search led him to a number of cities across the country, and eventually to New York. He found Edgar there. He was in a morgue – he’d put a shotgun to his head a few days before, spraying gears across a small downtown apartment.
Donovan didn’t know how to take it. Edgar had been the closest thing to family he had, and now he was entirely alone. He went back to Siberia to bury his brother before the ruins of the old Clock Tower, where the Saint was entombed. As he left, he took with him the great pendulum – a reminder of where he had come from, though he knew not where he was going.
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newage demon (Hellcat)
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Public name: Christian (Christalus)
Secret identity: Seraphim
Race: Homo Superior
Birthplace: Persia (now commonly known as Iran)
Age: Unknown, but looks to be about 25
Occupation: English Lecturer/ Hero
Gender: Male
Moral Standing: Hero
Appearance: The first thing you might notice when you walk into the University Library might be the collection of books, milling students, the soft murmur of librarians hushing a handful of first years. The first thing would most likely not be the tall brown-haired man sitting in front of the window, caught flicking through a book or two. The allure of the lone man just doesn't seem as strong as the other things scattered about the vast room. There is nothing outwardly amazing about him? No extra limbs, fangs, claws....looking perfectly human with maybe the possible acceptation of how he conveniently hides his right eye behind chocolate bangs of wild looking hair. Maybe someone would question the scars, or the odd marking on his left shoulder? But most likely they'd wonder about the two large wings tattooed on his back? Looking a little closer it becomes more and more apparent there is more to this gentle looking man than meets the eye. Soft smiles seem warming and almost relaxing, small looks easy to meet and the odd movement unthreatening, but hiding underneath all that is something that seems older than what could be easily assumed as a twenty something man.
Super powers: Chris holds very few actual powers, but all of them are well honed. The first of these is his more obvious ‘wings’ that he is able to sprout at a whim. These two large feathered appendages each easily span twice his height in order to hold his weight in flight. The second ability he holds is an empathy with living things around him. Be it human, non-human, mammal, reptile and anything in between. Chris can ‘sense’ the feelings and discomforts of those about him. The final Strength he holds, is his healing capabilities. His own body maintains a fast healing rate that is beyond that of a human and he can take an injury from someone else and transfer it
Super weakness: Though Chris can sprout wings. It is just that. He is used to the pain by now, but the wings themselves are strangely sensitive. If someone was to pin him or shoot him through the flesh of one, his body would go into a mild state of shock for a short period of time due to the sudden pain. Secondly. Empathy is strong with him, if he isn’t blocking the ability and suddenly turns it on, he cannot use it to target just one person…if there are five people around he will get all of there emotions at once. Finally, the ability to Transfer an injury doesn’t mean it vanishes. It means he takes the injury onto his own body. If someone had a broken leg and he transfers it, he’ll have a broken leg. So logically the power has limits, or he risks death.
Abilities: Even though his age is unknown, if anyone was to fight him, his style of fighting is enough to give away he has plenty of knowledge in how to pack a hefty punch. Chris was trained when he was old enough, in the art of the sword. He knows how to wield most blades from a Katana to a broad sword to a scimitar. Though, because he prefers to refrain from killing, his fists are usually the weapon of choice. He is strong where it counts and has a surprising amount of stamina…not to mention he is oddly agile when in flight, making him twice as deadly.
Inadequacies: Because Chris refuses to kill if he can avoid it, he has no liking for guns. Never in his life has Chris ever fired a gun, nor does he plan to take up any time to learn to use one. He’ll do almost anything to avoid getting anyone killed, good or bad, it doesn’t matter much too him. If sacrificing himself is what is needed he’ll do it. Though, anything that threatens the people he is close to or protective of tends to throw most rules out the window and transform him into something frightening feral. Like a Wolf protecting its pack. When in this state it takes a honed amount of control to calm him down…he won’t kill…but sometimes it’s better being dead.
Personality: Chris doesn't like to be in the lime light but he doesn't mind either. Not much seems to bother him, but he does have an apparent protective streak in him that with bare itself, claws and all. Yet, most often you'll find him wandering in the background doing his thing...whatever that may be?
Origin/history: The ring of hissing steel spliced the air. Bare feet stirring dust across the arena floor. The graze of a sword brushed his hip. Another clang echoed out, as steel hit steel once more. The grinding of metal sparked and his opponent leapt back lightly.
"Concentrate Christaleus!!"
Chris grimaced at the heavy words of his tutor. The heavy strike came from above. The pressure resounding through his arms. Gritting his teeth. Who would have thought the frail looking man had such bite in him. Unfortunately Chris knew it all too well.
"I am Concentrating!" He bellowed back, frustrated, unable to force his tutor away and stumbled. Rolling on the balls of his feet, out of the way of a finishing blow.
"No you aren't!" A searing undertone hissed through gritted teeth. "I have hit you four times today, I should be able to even hit you once at this level!"
Chris felt the corner of his eye twitch again. Despite his best efforts, Chris was distracted. He couldn't keep his mind fully on the task. He was worried about his mother. Nivera had always been coaxing and nurturing and silently guiding him. He was old enough to notice things now. Like the things she hid from him.
Small smiles seemed sad. He knew she was lonely. Everyone had said so, never around him, but he heard them talking about it. He'd tried and failed to fill that space his Father had left behind. It didn't work, at first he couldn't understand why. It had bothered him when he was younger. Chris couldn't offer her what she needed, because he wasn't his father. No matter how many similarities they had...They would always be different people.
Lately she had been drifting about like a wisp when she was alone, that hum of worrying lingering like stale air. She masked it well when he was around, but he'd caught her in those states. Chris never told her, didn't have the heart to break through her carefully constructed facade with bare truth.
"You aren't concentrating again Chris."
The voice of his Teacher wafted through and he realized he'd been day dreaming. Just standing there looking like an idiot. Chris murmured an apology and smoothed his hair back from his face. Corus heaved another sigh and sheathed his sword.
"What is bothering you?"
“Nothing.”
"Pull another one Christaleus," he chided. "You are more than a capable fighter, even for your age...I'm a lot older and uglier than you, I know when someone is worried."
Chris sheathed his own sword carefully, lingering on the silence a moment more, trying to find the ways to word it.
"Something is bothering Mother. I can't ask her what, because I'm worried it might be worse to confront her.” Rubbing the nape of his neck he frowned
Corus had wound his finger though the beaded length of his beard and tugged at it. It was a thoughtful gesture. Corus was the thoughtful kind, someone who would always think before saying anything of value. He knew something?
"There is a war coming."
The words hit him like a physical slap.
"What?"
"Nivera, your mother, knows about it." Violet eyes seemed tired and worried. "Most of us are too old to fight Chris, there hasn't been a serious war since before you were born. You have talent...You'll have to fight, I want you to be ready..."
A war? His father had been captured in a war.
"I won't end up like my Father. I won't let her worry about me." That determined frown laced his brow. Fire and fight reflecting behind them making Corus smile.
"I hope not. You are too much like him already."
Chris peered down at the old dusty book he had been reading before zoning out. “Gladiators and Rome…hmmm I always remembered it being a lot more violent.” Musing at the writings he snapped the book shut and pushed himself away. The scrape of wood on wood easily sliding against the polished floor. Most of these book never seemed to be able to capture the violence and passion that era held.
The soft bleep of his watch chirped at him and he slapped his forehead. “Damn late for class again!” Nabbing his bag swiftly he sprinted off.
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Strans (Strans)
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Public Name: Johnny Angel
Secret Identity: None
Race: Blessed Human
Birthplace: NYC/Heaven
Age: 29 and holding
Occupation: Stock Broker/Guardian of Humanity
Gender: Male
Moral Standing: Pure Good
Appearance: Johnny wears a white dress shirt with like pants in black and a tie of the same color. His shoes always hold a polished sheen and a trench styled over coat hangs about his fit body. His teeth are perfect and lend their gleam to a warming smile, and his soft brown eyes have left many a woman stunned. His black hair is just wild enough to give his face a slight rugged charm, and his somewhat deeper voice could melt ice in the Arctic.
Super Powers: As it is written in the Bible ‘let he who has eyes to see see, and let he who has ears to hear hear’, Johnny cannot be fooled by trickery or falsehoods. Even trying to lie to him is impossible as the truth forces itself out in his presence. Though he may be injured or hurt in normal ways, the only way to kill him is to stab or shoot him in the eyes for they are the windows to the soul. As angels may be seen or not as they wish to humanity, so too may Johnny appear or simply not be noticed by his own choice.
Wings at his wish appear from his back, allowing not only for flight but the summoning of a mighty blast of wind that may be turned into a powerful storm of redemption.
To his left hand in times of need shall there come a sword of white gold bathed in holy flame. Just the sight of this blessed blade shrinks back the sinful and filthy souls that plague the modern world. It cuts through impurities in both Man and material. His right arm will claim a shield of the same metal etched with unearthly designs, to protect the innocent from ill intent and harm. Mortal means cannot break its sacred form.
Holy Light may come from Angel’s body, filling a dark place with warming brightness. It aids those good of heart yet strikes blind those of a darker path.
Heaven, giving him freedom of mind to focus on his Holy Deed, tends to his needs of the flesh.
By the Grace of The Almighty Himself shall Johnny be spared in the blackest of times. He may call upon The Heavenly Father to grant him hope and safety if in the act of protecting another evil surrounds them completely. Then shall an event unknown to human minds occur, and those in peril shall be freed from the devil’s grasp.
Super Weaknesses: Johnny cannot enter older churches, graveyards, and other supposedly ‘holy’ places. Though the Church has always worked under the guise of serving God, for past centuries it was a place for corrupt men to gain power and money, ruling others in fear of damnation, torture, and death in the name of the Almighty. From the Witch Burnings to ignoring the plight of the Jewish in WWII, the Holy Mother Church has tainted itself with evil, ignorance, and sin. As such any place ‘blessed’ by the followers of this Holy Order are too impure for Angel to enter.
He is also never allowed to sin. He may not use the Lord’s name in vain, pleasure a woman, take pride in his deeds, want that which another has, hold possessions for his own without giving to others, be lazy in his Heavenly task, bare false witness against another, or even take a picture of another human. He may never strike in anger without just cause, and can only inflict that which the guilty has beset upon humanity. He is allowed to take for and in himself only what he needs and never more. Angel has no free will of his own, and can only do what is allowed by the grace of God Himself. Any attempt to follow his own desires will be met with failure and pain as well as a loss of powers until such a time as it is felt he has atoned for his misacting.
Children and animals may see Johnny no matter his wish.
The storms summoned by his wings shall last no longer then forty minutes, and only an area of thirty thousand cubits (a city block). The feathers limbs themselves may be hurt or damaged same as a bird’s, and any storm created by them shall instantly cease. They may not be fully removed except by sin, though they must be allowed time to mend and heal, and cannot be replaced within Johnny’s body until they are.
His shield may be battered by things not made of mortal hands, and even destroyed by such means. Another will be given to the Angel, but such a work takes time to make and many prayers given before its completion. The sword is affected by the same restrictions as the man who wields it, for it may never be called in anger or used to harm an innocent. Such attempts shall banish it from Johnny’s use until such a time when he earns it back.
His Holy Light fills a circle twenty feet about Angel’s body, and the shading or averting of one’s eyes from the glow lessens the blinding effect.
Johnny may never use his powers for himself at anytime, but only in the service of God or an innocent. They simply will not come to his aid if he tries such acts for his own self.
The Heavenly Father knows what is best even when those who serve Him do not. Even one as pure as Angel may ask for grace yet not receive it. For God works in mysterious ways.
Abilities (Non-super talents of character): Johnny is a wiz in the stock market, and has a talent for telling when to buy and sell to make a fortune in only a few hours. In order to wheel and deal well Angel learned to speak Russian, French, and Japanese due to stock exchanges in those countries and the heavy influence they have on the financial world. His warm manners and demeanor make it easy for people to trust and open up to him. Managing computer accounts for some years have left him with some skills involving those machines, and he’s not shabby on a stick shift. In years now past Angel earned awards and renown while on the Harvard Fencing Team, and still his skills with a blade are far better then not as well as his reflexes and toned muscles.
Inadequacies (Non-super shortcomings of character): Johnny doesn’t know anything about guns, and has never liked to use them. He found them too loud and messy to deal with, and as such is a horrid shot with one. He tended for Fencing over boxing or other such sports, and is not overly gifted in the art of bare fisted fighting. Though martial arts were popular when he attended college, the only black belt he lays claim to is one from Sax Fifth Avenue.
Personality: Goodness in a purer form has rarely existed on Earth. Angel is kind and generous to all he meets, and never has a bad word to say of anyone. Babies coo when he walks by, stray dogs trot up to be petted, and flowers grow up from cracks in the pavement wherever his feet tread. He reflects the light he believes shines within every soul, no matter how deeply buried it is.
Origin / History: Johnny had a wonderful life from birth. His parents both loved him and made sure he knew it. His father was a banker and his mother the owner of a successful catering company, and his home was on Park Row in NYC. He was a kind-hearted lad with good marks and Harvard was a natural place for the boy to attend. A business degree and talent with money landed him in an investing firm on Wall Street. His talents were quickly recognized and his career hit the fast track. He might have been the youngest partner but he never got that title. Johnny was leaving work one day and saw a man and child crossing the street. A silver Jag bore down on them and both froze with fear. Angel rushed forward to knock the boy out of the way. He didn’t feel the impact, but was in a white realm with the other man beside him who wept about his family. When a voice asked which of them had spared the boy, the investor said the other man had so he would be spared death. By this act Johnny proved the goodness inside of himself and was returned to Earth to help Humanity in the name of Heaven. He awoke from a coma in a hospital, taking little time to sell everything he owned and giving the money to charity. Then he headed out into the world to live up to his name.
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Eyes of a tortured soul (Cupid)
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Public Name: Krann Ic Elaas Liuarr
Secret Identity: Kiel
Race: Ullarian
Birthplace: Ullaria
Earth age: 13
Occupation: N/A
Gender: Male
Moral Standing: Oddball
Appearance: Ullarians do not differ from humans much physically, but they are generally fairer in comparison. Kiel has medium-length, soft light hair that darkens at the tips and unnatural dark-blue eyes. He is almost 5 feet tall, but not quite. He has a knee-length cape that hangs on his right shoulder, covering his right arm and a little of his body. On his left shoulder is a smaller version of the cape.
History: Almost 40 years has passed since the disintegration of the Ullarian government; Chaos and Turmoil has plagued the once prosperous nation of Ullaria for almost four decades. The once smooth, glossy streets are now tainted with the blood, debris and marks of almost half a century of bedlam; Plasma shells, high-energy photon repeater bullets, scatter-laser grenades all marking their presence in the charred streets and ruins of buildings once housed families. Not one day, one hour, or even one minute went by without the sound of explosions and gunfire. Thieves, cutthroats and bandits now plague what remained of the streets and alleyways like packrats, armed with nothing more than laser-sharpened daggers, using surprise, numbers and the aid of the shadows to bring down their better-equipped counterparts. A little less than half of these bandits have not reached their teen years.
Seeing the prophecy fulfilled, the Phantom Tribunal, a triad of three shapeless beings that has stayed with the planet from the beginning, searched desperately without success for an answer to end the mayhem. The Tribunal was dismayed, but didn’t give up. Finally, they decided that the only way to break the holding forces of chaos was to personally intervene. However, there was no way that they could interact with the physical world, being phantoms themselves, so instead they created an Ullarian infant, and they imbued him with all the powers of the Tribunal. They named him Krann Ic Elaas Liuarr, or Judgment of the Tribunal.
Next, the Tribunal created a fictional world, a mirror image of Ullaria before the Disintegration. This virtual world contains everything the real thing has. The Tribunal placed KIEL in this world, watching and sometimes guiding the infant through a normal childhood, hoping that the real world would last until the infant comes of age. The infant’s enormous powers are bound tightly as long as he remained in the virtual world, as the Tribunal feared that he would accidentally destroy himself by losing control of his powers at an unprepared age.
Thirteen years went by without problem. The infant has grown to be a handsome and respectful young man, liked by all in the virtual world. The Tribunal was pleased, as they envisioned that this child will be the savior of their ravaged world. However, the virtual world became unexpectedly unstable overtime, resulting in anomalies inside of the world. Several portals into the real world appeared, and the Tribunal, caught completely off guard by the sudden turn of events, was not quick enough to stop the child from falling into one of the portals. As the child arrived into the real world, the mystical chains that bound his powers shattered, as the full force of all the combined powers of the Tribunal flooded him from within. Instantly he felt the pain, suffering, anger, and chaos that had permeated the world like a black fog rush into him in torrents. As the Tribunal was unable to prepare him for the entrance to the real world, the child was terrified to his very soul. His grief knew no end as he personally experienced the suffering of every single person. He fell to the ground clutching his head, all the while screaming a scream that can be heard by everyone that existed on the planet. For a moment, they understood the scream; for a moment, they could sense the darkness that shrouded their hearts, wondering for a brief moment why they were slaughtering each other like savage animals. But it’s only for a moment, as what they heard next was the last thing they would ever hear. “STOOOP!!” They heard the child’s voice scream, followed by a blinding wave of light that quickly combed through the entire planet.
The explosion that had originated from where the child was kneeling expanded like an ever-increasing ring of fire that charred the surface of the planet within seconds. Oceans were no more, the sky turned to the color of burning coal, and life was officially terminated on the planet. Then, a beam of light shot through the center of the planet, followed shortly by its explosive shatter.
The Tribunal watched in awe of the child’s powers – It was exponentially more powerful than the Tribunal’s powers combined. This was not the way they predicted the chaos would end, but now that it happened, they felt that it was for the best. Everyone’s war was at an end, and there would never be another. Without the planet and the people of Ullaria, the Tribunal was slowly fading into nothingness. Before they disappeared completely, they noticed in astonishment that the child was still alive, if barely. He was stripped of most of his powers, but a tiny fraction still remained that enabled him to survive, but he won’t be for long in the cold, endless space. The tribunal wanted him to live on as a sign that there was once a great nation called Ullaria, so they used their last remaining strength to repair his broken body and put him in stasis. Then they searched frantically for a planet that was most similar to Ullaria, and they found Earth. Sending him to the distant planet through warp-space as they bid farewell to their child and wished him a safe journey, the Tribunal finally vanished from existence. Ullaria has found peace.
Superpowers: The exertion that caused the destruction/salvation of his planet has left him with a mere fraction of his powers. They include:
Phase Levitation: Kiel can levitate vertically at a max speed of 10 mph, as high as twenty meters above ground. He can move around horizontally to some degree, but at a much slower rate. When and only when levitating, Kiel can choose to shift into a semi-corporeal form, in which objects can pass through him as long as the space it took up is less than 50% of his body. However, this combination is very straining, so Kiel can only hold this semi-corporeal form for about 15 seconds per minute.
Telempathy: A remnant power, greatly diminished to its current state, Kiel can sense another creature’s feelings and motives by making physical contact with them. Also, this power enables him to understand what is said to him in any language, though he can no longer respond in it.
Revitalization: The power that saved him from destroying himself along with his planet. This power enables Kiel to survive a fatal blow, but just barely. He then is automatically bathed in a slow-healing sphere that will heal his wounds to the point which he can survive without it, again, just barely. This power cannot be triggered consciously.
Judgment of the Tribunal: Only activated involuntarily in extreme anger and/or sadness, this power encases Kiel in a sphere of flare energy. It looks/feels like purple fire, but it will easily burn anything fire-retardant. Kiel can manipulate this shield to a certain degree, making parts of it reach out as far as 7 feet. However, Kiel loses a part of his sanity when the power is active, so he is always in a semi-berserker rage whenever he’s inside the shield. This power only lasts fifteen minutes.
Super-Weaknesses: When in his healing sphere, Kiel is unconscious and completely vulnerable to any form of hostility. If another fatal blow is administered while he is healing, he dies.
Kiel automatically goes into healing after Judgment of the Tribunal wears out, in which case he will be unconscious, needing at least two hours in the healing sphere to recover.
Kiel suffered amnesia from the massive power outbreak his body endured back on Ullaria, so he does not remember a thing about his past other than his name.
Abilities: Ullarians have a naturally faster reflex than the average human, so Kiel has the reflex of a martial artist. This does not mean that he can fight hand-to-hand, though.
Inadequacies: Kiel is weak physically, and can put up a fight no better than that of an injured puppy. He has also lost the ability to speak from his power outburst back on Ullaria.
Personality: Kiel is quick to warm up to others, and whatever friends he made tends to last. Being not able to communicate effectively with others labels him as non-talkative, but if he could, he can go on forever. His mood will change instantly if he sees a crime being committed – he will become sad and downcast, getting him a step closer to activating his last power.
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Anonymous
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Public Name: Dr. Adrian Gray
Secret Identity: The Dentist
Race: Human
Birthplace: Bath, England
Age: 43
Occupation: Dentist
Gender: M
Moral standing: Villain, pure sadist
Appearance: Dr. Adrian Gray is the prodigial dentist. In his normal life, with a nicely decorated practice on the outskirts of Megatropolis, he is always immaculately dressed in lightly coloured business clothes and a dentist’s top coat. He has an attractive face, dark hair with gray temples and a trim physique, still easily looking thirty-five. When he stalks the streets as a roaming villain he will be wearing The Dentist’s Chair, a powered armour suit designed to fulfil his purely sadistic desires.
Super Powers: Dr. Adrian Gray: none.
The Dentist: Powered Armour suit “The Dentist’s Chair”, built in his underground workshop by Adrian and Dr. David Hoskins. TDC is a fully steel and carbon composite exoskeletal suit, approx. three meters in height (without running legs extended), designed to withstand a great amount of punishment from all kinds of sources. It is well secured against shock, impact, incision, EMP and heat, although prolonged exposure to very high temperatures will degrade the carbon compounds, and eventually burn them. The main use of the suit is not to fight, it is to secure and incapacitate victims.
The suit is equipped with several weapons:
1) Tranquilizer gun x2. These are two independantly firing dart-guns on ball swivel mounts, which fire tranq-darts with enough power to put a raging bull to sleep. They may even be dosed higher if necessary. The targeting is done manually by a crosshair display in the suits main viewscreen. Each gun has a magazine with ten darts.
2) Drilling array: The suit possesses a short servo-arm with a powerful drilling array. The bits are exchangeable and can be anything from soft earth drills to diamond headed steel and rock drills. The servo arm extends from the back of suit to to the right of the helmet/head. There is a debris vacuum systems installed to get rid of drilling dust and disperse it from an exhaust chute to the rear of the suit. The drilling arm was installed by David Hoskins, who somehow thought it fitted the theme, but Adrian right now doesn’t understand what purpose it is supposed to serve.
3) Restraining grapple servo-arms x4. The suit possesses four powerful multi-segmented servo arms with strong grappling claws and carbon compound restraining binders. The arms extend from the side of suit.
The suit is also equipped with jumpjets, which allow boosted hops, but not actual flight. The main forward propulsion must come from walking or running prior to firing the jumpjets. The jets use limited liquid hydrogen fuel, which comes from the suit’s main fuel tank. The same fuel is also used by the main powerplant at the back of the suit, a fuel cell rated at 500 kW. The fuel tank allows operation for approximately 1.5 hours at maximum output, however, there are numerous power-saving methods employed to extend the operating time.
The suit uses its two legs and foldable running legs to move. The running legs give it an ostrich-like running style, which conserves a lot of energy and enables speeds of 60-70kph. At that speed the maneuverability is reduced.
The main feature of the suit, and the one that gives it its name, is the actual dentist’s chair. After securing a victim in the restraining grapples and possibly sedating him or her, the rear chassis of the suit will unfold and produce the chair, which then folds over to the front of the suit to hold the victim. The victim is held by titanium clamps in a comfortable position for the Dentist in the suit to reach his mouth. The Dentist can extend his own arms through the forward armour, which are protected by comparatively thin sleeves of flexible composite armour. He can then use a small utility arm that holds the dentist drills, and you can bet no pretty assistant will be there to hold the patient’s hand.
Super Weaknesses:
Dr. Adrian Gray is a normal human, he has no special powers. He will be hurt and die from anything that hurts a normal human. He may also be hurt if the suit is subjected to greater forces of accelaration simply from the G-forces involved.
Fuel constraints: Any greater activities of the suit will deplete its fuel storage. Especially jumpjets will use lots of fuel. Adrian has a hydrogen plant in his cellar laboratory, which can produce fuel for him, but as of yet there is no comfortable way of transporting more fuel for the suit.
Imperfect armour: No armour suit can have the same armour strength everywhere. All joints are vulnerable points, which may be targeted. The servo arms have the weakest armour on the entire suit, with the exception of the unprotected back when the chair is unfolded and the sleeves for the Dentist’s arms. Also, while the dentist’s chair is unfolded to the front of the suit, the entire rear is left with only a minimal carbon compound cover, which may not even stop bullets entirely.
Size and stealth constraints: The suit cannot fit in tight spaces, and is fairly rigid. Hiding isn’t really an option, since the suit is large and has a light grey colour scheme.
Outlook and goal constraints: Adrian Gray is not a fighter. He is also not a killer. There is no reason for him to fight or kill anyone, he is content with torturing people J.
Abilities: Dr. Adrian Gray is an accomplished dentist, and avid engineer, and an above average amateur sportsman. In England he used to ride, play polo and golf. Since coming to the States he has somewhat stopped horse sport, but he has kept up golfing and taken up tennis. With a university education he has good common knowledge in different fields. Adrian dabbles in piano playing now and then, and enjoys classical and jazz music.
Inadequacies: As a former upperclassman Adrian can’t get rid of a certain arrogance. He is unable to gain true friends, since he will not let anyone get close to him.
While being an educated man and a sportsman he lacks combat training and experience. He won’t be able to use the suit to its full power, since his attacks will be crude and his tactics obvious.
Personality: Dr. Adrian Gray on the outside is a sunny, somewhat detached, somewhat arrogant distinctly English bachelor. Public school education left its mark on him and instilled discipline, coolness and the closeness of a solitary man. While he enjoys other people’s company he never reveals his true feelings or thoughts, and he sees people as a past-time as best. The only exception is the MIT professor and genius Dr. David Hoskins, whom he admires and treats as his only friend.
The by far dominating character trait since coming to Megatropolis city is his sadism as The Dentist. He enjoys nothing more than happily causing pain to his victims, by making sure they will need a good set of new teeth – even if their old ones were perfectly healthy. He will never kill a victim or otherwise injure them, his whole joy is seeing people writhe in agony while their teeth are slowly ground down to the roots, and finally extracted – without the proper anaesthetics of course.
Maybe if someone took the time to look deeply into Adrian’s mind he would find just a slight remainder of disgust at his own twisted self.
Origin/History:
Adrian Gray was born on the 7th of January 1962 as the son of a banker and a pedriatist in the small town of Bath, in southern England. He received an expensive public school education in London and finished at the top of his class. He entered Cambridge University to study dental medicine, and graduated in 1986, at the top-third position in his graduation year. With generous help from his family he immediately opened a practice in London, and stayed there until 1999. It was around that time that he began experiencing strange urges, and after a teeny scandal that was put aside with generous payments he left England and moved to the United States. There he re-entered university and studied mechanical engineering and cybernetics, to throw himself off his urges. He only partly succeeded, however, and after graduation in 2004 he reopened his dentist’s practice in Megatropolis. In a basement laboratory he spent ten months building his armour suit, using the knowledge from his recent studies, but he also used the expertise of his only friend, David Hoskins, the troubled genius and his sole confidante.
With the suit complete now nothing will stop him any longer. He has shed his restraints and come to terms with himself. He’s had his coming out as a sadist, and he won’t turn back now. He is ready to haunt the streets of Megatropolis and cause pain to any hapless victim that falls pray to him.
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Anonymous
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This is a conversion of a character originally designed for a P&P game. Some of you may recognize it:
Public Name: 48
False Name: William Wallace (don’t laugh)
Race: strengthened human
Birthplace: A bioengineering lab in Bolivia
Age: Biological: 8; Apparent physical age: 20+
Occupation: Mercenary
Gender: M
Moral standing: Oddball
Appearance: 1,95 tall, bald-head man, likes to wear armoured black suits and black shades, and an armoured jacket on top of that, but will also wear any kind of body armour. His skin looks thick and somewhat leathery. There is a black “48” tattooed on the back of his neck.
Superpowers: No “Powers”. However, 48 was created to battle supers, and was endowed with improved muscles, organs and armoured skin, as well as implants to improve his performance.
1) Muscle improvement: 48 is almost three times as strong as an average human, and three times as fast. He runs the 100 meters in six seconds – and can keep going after that. His stamina is excellent, and he has an artificial heart with added volume and strength to back it up. His coordination and articulation have been improved to allow him greater precision in all physical tasks.
2) Improved reflexes: By increasing his nerve throughput 48’s reactions are approximately 4 times as fast as an average human.
3) Armoured skin: 48’s natural skin was replaced with a thick leathery Kevlar-improved epidermis. This improves his resistance to damage of most kinds.
4) Plastic bone graft: 48’s bones were grafted with hardened plastic structurals, which improve their resistance to damage. The plastic also acts as a sort of implanted brass knuckles, so he can punch harder without fear of damaging his own bones.
5) Pain compensators: When 48 takes damage, a certain amount of pain is automatically subdued. Due to that he can keep going even after being injured.
6) Trauma damper: When a wound causes trauma in a part of the body the trauma dampening implants will reduce that, reducing the severity of the wound for the moment. However, it will also heal more slowly after that.
7) Improved blood clotting: When 48 is injured his blood will clot quickly and close the wound quickly. He even has a good chance of survival if an important artery is hit. However, he must constantly monitor his clotting factors, and take anti-coagulants should they become too high, unless he wants to risk a cardiac arrest or a stroke. His artificial heart somewhat protects against this, but not totally.
8) Cybernetic eyes: 48’s eyes have been totally replaced with implants, which allow infravision, low-light vision, a 16x eletronic zoom, have an in-eye display with an image link, an alarm-clock, and a smart-gun system that paints a cross-hair on his vision when he points a suitably equipped firearm.
9) Cerebral enhancement: 48 has approximately twice the cognitive capacity as an average human (that doesn’t really make him very intelligent). The enhancement also assists him with various intelligence based tasks.
10) Data-link and thought transducer implant: 48 has a socket at the back of his neck to connect a suitable computer system or a communication device. With the transducer implant he can then produce fake vocals without uttering any sounds from his mouth. The response from the comm device is also played back directly to the language center of his brain.
Since his superhuman abilities are not strictly speaking super-powers they will not be negated by a basic nulling field, however they should be normally affected by a “forced averaging” field such as wielded by the late Pax.
Super weaknesses:
1) Sensitivity to toxins and diseases: Due to the generally unbalanced nature of 48’s body, he is more sensitive to all blood and nerve toxins. This includes alcohol, solvent vapours, stun/anaesthetic gases and drugs, etc, but not teargas or pepper spray, since those function merely superficially. Since his implants need permanent immune suppression, he is prone to falling ill easily.
2) Prolonged healing time: 48 can withstand a lot of punishment without taking serious injury, but once he is injured, his body takes a long time to heal. It will also be difficult for an average doctor without special training to treat him at all.
3) Must take anticoagulants or runs risk of a heart-attack or stroke.
4) All his implants are rare, and he will have trouble repairing them should they be damaged.
5) Amnesia: 48 became free to roam the streets by accident, and did not receive complete personality and fake memory imprinting. He doesn’t know where he comes from or whether someone might not come looking for him.
Abilities:
48 is an excellent soldier in all aspects. He is proficient with handguns and rifles, and extremely proficient with blades and in unarmed combat. He is a world-champion level Muay Thai fighter (but never had the chance to compete, and would never get past the doping tests anyway.) His specialties are low and high kicks, takedown grappling and ground submission fighting.
He has basic knowledge in computers and electronics, but not enough to efficiently repair his implants by himself.
His creators thought it useful to give him an extensive knowledge in first-aid and even basic surgery and medicine. With the right equipment he would make a good field-medic.
Inadequacies:
48 hasn’t been living in actual society for very long, he possesses no “social competence” whatsoever. He is probably too trusting (although he’ll pay a betrayal back tenfold – if he can). He also has little morality apart from that which has been recently instilled in him.
Personality: 48 hasn’t had a lot of time to develop his personality. Being picked up by the Megatropolis Yakuza had a large influence on him. He values loyalty and reliability, and despises the opposites. He will generally accept other people’s friendship, and he will fight for his friends, if they deserve it. Right now he is mainly interested in finding out his origins, although he will take significant detours in order to attain the funds necessary to do so.
Equipment:
Black armoured business suit and armour jacket.
Kevlar III body-sheath
Ultracompact 5.56mm Assault-Rifle, small enough to go in a somewhat larger shoulder holster; Reduced metal detector signature. Fires standard, explosive, or armour piercing rounds from 10 or 30-round magazines. Internal smartgun processor.
Fully ceramic compact handgun, undetectable in metal detectors, smartgun processor.
Ceramic edged hardened katana
Combat knife
Origin/History:
When the density of supers made a sudden jump around Megatropolis several years ago, the executives of world-wide operating Protosense Bioenengineering Corp. sought measures to level the playing field and develop protection against super-criminals on a corporate level. Since it was not clear what caused the appearance of supers around the world, they began working on means to improve common man to enable him to fight supers on a basis of numerical superiority and improved equipment. The product of one of these prototype lines was the series “Level 1 Bodyguard and Executive Security Operative”. 50 cloned semi-individuals were produced, augmented and trained in a laboratory in Bolivia and then flown into the united states while still in stasis. Their personalities had not been completely imprinted, since that would vary depending on their place of operation. They were transported with full gear inside their stasis chambers, basic body-guard or security guard personalities added on suitable storage media.
Unfortunately, the transport plane was hit by an out of control sports-plane on approach to Megatropolis airport. Cargo began spewing out before it crashed into an industrial plant and went completely up in flames.
One of the stasis chambers however landed in a muddy field not far from where a group of Megatropolis-Yakuza members were just going about their shady business. They recovered the pod and took it back to their mob HQ. Here it was that 48 for the first time awoke to full consciousness, in the company of Yakuza sub-boss Kamiya Sasume.
The mob took him in as a possible powerful ally, and taught him about basic life. The strange thing about his incomplete imprinting was that his brain reacted in all the right ways to every-day stimuli, but he had no connection to go with them. For instance he would see a car and his brain would say “car”, and he would instinctively know what a car was and even how to drive one, but he had no memories to go with that. It was frustrating at first, but 48 somewhat got used to it.
After three months with the mob the Yakuza supreme boss Hiranaga invited many clans to a grand ball, and 48 was invited to accompany Kamiya there. The ball was attacked and 48 saved the supreme boss’ life by cutting down two assailants with a sword. Boss Hiranaga in turn spent some time with him, during which 48 expressed his intentions to find out about his origins. As an act of gratitude Hiranaga let him go, on the basis that he would stand by for the Yakuza should that be necessary. He gave him back his equipment from the pod and also a hardened katana as a memory for his swordplay at the ball.
48 was now ready to walk the streets of Megatropolis, fighting to survive in a world filled with supers.
(somewhat compressed, originally his background and history alone were 3000 words  )
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Rab Jacobs (Rebel)
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Public Name-Gwen Armstrong
Secret Identity-Catalyst
Birthplace-Megatropolis
Age-65
Gender-Female
Moral Status-Villain
Appearance-Gwen Armstrong is a sixty five year old woman who has been in a coma for the last 55 years. Her body, naturally, is in terrible condition, with muscles that have near atrophied beyond any reasonable level of use for a human being. She is always found at the Mercy and Grace Hospital in Megatropolis, connected to a few dozen machines that keep her alive. Her gray hair is slowly falling out, her teeth have long since been removed, and it is doubtful that she can see-therefore a small pair of sunglasses have been placed over her eyes to spare her nurses the unnerving sight of her blank eyes staring at the ceiling.
The Catalyst lacks a consistent appearance-it is anything it wishes to be, in any form is wishes to be. It can also be invisible, if need be.
Super Powers-Gwen Armstrong was, to the best of everyone's knowledge, not a super before she went into her coma.
The Catalyst is an apparent manifestation from Gwen's mind-a sort of specter or ghost that she controls and mentally embodies, roaming the world doing what she likes. The Catalyst is able to change form, it is able to make auditory sounds, it is able to cause changes in temperature (only by a few degrees), it is able to manipulate people's emotions by speaking into their mind, and it is able to travel through objects at a speed of approximately 25 miles per hour and through air at approximately 50 miles per hour. It is expected that Gwen is simply not able to will herself to go faster when traveling through objects, though there is no logical reason that the Catalyst could not do so.
Super Weaknesses-Even with all of the Catalyst's powers, there is one thing that it cannot do-it cannot physically touch anything in the world. The Catalyst cannot directly cause anything to happen-it must manipulate a situation in such a way that its wishes are met. Also, were Gwen ever to be killed, it is expected that the Catalyst would perish as well...
Abilities-Gwen Armstrong lacks any abilities at all.
The Catalyst, as it identifies itself, is a manipulator. It is able to lie to people and trick them into doing what it wants; often causing them to do things that are detrimental to their own well-being and almost always hurting someone else. The Catalyst is extremely intelligent and is not easily deterred from its objective.
Inadequacies-Gwen Armstrong is a complete invalid and it is quite possible that she would be mentally insane, were she to ever awaken from her coma.
The Catalyst cannot physically touch people or objects-therefore, it is restrained to merely verbal and image trickery. It can fool a person by superimposing an image over something, but in the end, the physical reality can be revealed. However, the Catalyst believes itself to be a god and therefore will often reveal itself, rather than stay in the shadows where it could be better served. Also, as Gwen is, the Catalyst is insane and therefore does not see the terrible things is does as wrong. This also leads to having a great deal of trouble finding some sort of partner who could support its plans on the physical plane...
Personality-Gwen lacks any discernable personality, a side-effect of being unconscious...
The Catalyst is insane, it is a trickster, a manipulator, a sort of modern day Robin Goodfellow, lacking the physical aspect. It is only concerned with its own entertainment and therefore cares nothing about the people that it tricks, fools, and ultimately kills.
Origin/History-Gwen Armstrong was born 65 years ago in Megatropolis-she lived a completely normal child's life until she was ten years old. On the way to school one day, she was in a terrible car wreck in which she was severely injured and she went into a coma. For 55 years, she has stayed in this coma. It is not understood why her parents allowed for this, but their parents told people that they heard their daughter telling them to keep her alive no matter how long she was in the coma, even though the girl could not possibly have spoke to them...
Although it isn't known for sure when it happened, the Catalyst was born from Gwen's repressed mind. It could be speculated that she was, in fact, a super and her power was strengthened by her coma. Whatever the case, the Catalyst was born and has lived its 'life' doing nothing but terrorizing people. It has caused hundreds of murders, including dozens of serial killers by whispering things in their ears or making them see things that drove them to kill. Such things as haunted houses and ghosts can also be attributed to it, although only in some cases. It has also sparked things such as riots, shootings, bloody revolutions, and terrorist attacks. The Catalyst simply seems to enjoy the carnage and enjoys the observing the suffering of 'normal humans'.
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Rab Jacobs (Rebel)
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Public Name: Trent Roberts
Secret Identity: Spaz
Race: Human
Birthplace: Megatropolis
Age: 22
Occupation: None
Gender: Male
Moral Standing: Hero
Appearance: Trent is the average mildly nerdy college age kid. T-Shirts and jeans are his general clothing choices, along with a hat when it sunny outside and a pair of Converse tennis shoes. His brown hair is a standard medium cut, unstyled, that comes about half an inch above his brown eyes. However, the indicator that Trent is a little 'special' is the fact that he is constantly moving-shaking, twitching, running around, pacing. Whatever it is, he is constantly moving around, although it doesn't look like nervous movement, simply unstopping. He also has a wickedly large scar across most of his chest. Physicaly, he is approximately 5'10", and about 150 lbs. There is no indication to the strength that he commands.
Super Power: Trent doesn't have any actual power, however, his body has been altered through the marvels of modern medicine to have an adrenal gland approximately 4 times the size of the average man his age. This gland is constantly fueling his system with adrenaline, therefore, Trent moves with a speed that challenges even supers. Spaz, as he is called by many, is incredibly strong and fast, able to easily run 40 miles an hour and throw a car. He also heals slightly faster than the average human, and his hand-eye cordination is off the charts. Spaz is able to mentally control the flow of adrenaline, therefore, he is not constantly at the "throwing cars" strength, but he can achieve it with a mere thought and a few moments of allowing the adrenaline to flow into him.
Super Weaknesses: Because of the size of the gland, Spaz is required to take several medications to keep him from dying from the abundance of the chemical. Also, the gland is constantly dripping, therefore, Trent cannot help but shake and move, constantly. It also causes him to talk quickly and without thinking, often. Trent must eat often and in large amounts to support his body.
Abilities: Trent is a computer geek-he can hack computers with ease, and because of his 'power', he can type faster than almost any human alive. He is also the world champion of the computer game known as "Counter Strike"-an online shooter that requires a great deal of skill. This means that he commands a great deal of respect from his fellow nerds, meaning that he commands a great deal of technological power...
Weaknesses: Trent is socially inept-he stands little or no chance of ever having a girlfriend, and he knows it. Therefore, he can easily be manipulated by women, with little effort on their part.
Personality: Trent is overly trusting-he is a 'good guy' who rarely would hurt someone unless he had to in order to save a life. He is funny, light hearted, and relatively untouched by the evil he faces against. He does not allow himself to be saddened by the pain around him-he merely decides once again to defeat it.
Origin: Trent lived a normal, although nerdy, life until he was 18. He then went to college for computers, but he discovered the game "Counter Strike" and became what most would call obsessive-so much so that at 20 he won the world championship competition.
When he was 21, Trent was in a car accident that should have killed him-but when he awakened, he was instead instead in almost perfect condition, minus the scar on his chest. A mysterious man in his hospital room explained what had happened-a sub-government group had saved his life, while also making changes to him. However, the group was then closed down when it was discovered that they had not recieved Trent's permission for the surgery. However, his changes could not be reversed, and he was released.
Trent is now living off the money he won for the Counter Strike championship, approximately 14 thousand dollars, and is doing his best to take care of the people of Megatropolis until it runs out.
(Probably some problems, but I lack the time to correct them...hope those can be ignored in sight of lack of time)
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Beware the wail of the (Banshee)
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Public Name:
Witch of Endor
Secret Identity:
Endora DeSpell
Race:
Human
Birthplace:
Somewhere in the Blue Ridge Mountains
Age:
between 65 and 90 – unknown
Occupation:
Yarb woman and soothsayer
Gender:
Female
Moral Standing:
Hero, but tending to the crotchety
Appearance:
Endora is a short, bent old woman who seems to be far more fragile than she truly is Her face is brown and weathered, an age worn apple with sparkling bright green eyes buried deep in the wrinkles. Her once coal black hair that bespoke her Native American ancestry, is just as long and straight, but now iron grey. Osteoperosis has bent her straight back so that she does not appear to be the 5'5" that the doctors proclained her to be, She is thin and narrow, and although she seems frail, she is just as tough as whitleather and strong as she was forty years ago.
Super Powers:
She is a Seer and can not only see the potential future sporadically, but she can also see and speak with the dead. With her almost always is a black cat that is her familiar. The spirit inhabits the body of a normal cat and acts as her advisor. If and when the cat is killed, the spirit moves to another body. She is also telekinetic and can move objects with her mind as long as she concentrates on the effort. One of her favorite tricks is to levitate her walking stick and ride it like a broom by the witches of old.
Super Weaknesses:
When she is speaking with the dead, Endora goes into a trance that acts and looks much like a coma to those who do not realize what is going on. While she may not fall down, she will retreat from this reality and be unresponsive to anything else around her. When she sees potential patterns which she calls ‘foretelling’, she is left with a major headache that not even Excedrin will alleviate. The most trying on her is the telekineseis; it requires so much physical energy that she must eat immediately before and/or immediately afterwards to prevent loss in musculature as her thin frame struggles to find the required fuels. At these times, her metabolism burns like a furnace which is why she is notoriously thin. And while the familiar can often give good advice, it does not know more than it can find out in its current body, in no way omniscient.
Abilities:
She has an extensive knowledge of herbs and natural cures and can recognize most of the plants she comes across, not only identifying their physical characteristics, but also their properties. She is well versed in many of the mountaineer crafts that she learned as a child. She can split wood, hunt, track, read the weather through various signs, and understands the seasons and phases of the moon along with their significances.
Inadequacies:
Endora has no talent or knowledge of the new-fangled gadgets of the latter 20th century. She enjoys indoor plumbing, electricity, as well as the radio and television, but she has not knowledge beyond the on/off button and assorted handles and cords required to work these miracles. The city she lives in is a jungle to her country oriented mind. It disorients her and when she ifeels this, she gets angry and cantankerous. She has a bare minimum educattion that allows her to read and do simple math, but her abilities here do not stretch much beyond the newspapers and counting out change for her purchases.
Personality:
Endora is a warm and loving woman, but one must first get under the crust of her stubborn nature. She has a good sense of humor that she is not ashamed to share, even if those around her would just as soon not know what she is thinking. She has little patience for what she considers foolishness, but she is willing to learn new things if she feels that they are worthwhile. Her laughter is just as quick as her temper. She can be obedient to those in power, unless she judges their efforts or orders ridiculous. She is indepenent and likes it that way. She can be a pain or a pleasure, but never a pawn.
Origin/History:
Born sometime after the turn of the last century, Endora came into the world somewhere in the Blue Ridge Mountains, probably in Tennessee, but there are no records as she was born at home to an empovrished farmer and his wife. She was educated until she was thirteen when her parents deemed her ready to stop her schoolin’ and help out full time at home. She was then educated in the ways of the world around her: plants and animals and survival. She had been born with a caul over her face which, as everyone knew, meant that she had the Sight and could see into other worlds. By the time she reached sixteen, she was adept at the womanly arts of cooking and cleaning as well as healing with herbs and using her vision to tell her grateful neigthbors about coming storms and blights as well as which baby would be born a boy and which a girl.
The night of her seve nteenth birthday, she accepted the proposal of a young man seven years her senior named John. Then before the wedding could take place, she disappeared in the woods on her way home from helping with a birthing. After an extensive search, she was given up as lost. Three years later, she walked into her parents’ cabin looking lost and dazed. Her black hair was now steel grey, and her black eyes were bright green – the sure sign of a witch.
All she could remember was that a very short man had approached her and told her to follow him into a cave. And even though she could not explain why, she had followed him willingly. Her mother was full blood Cherokee and knew that her daughter had been taken underhill by the Hidden People of the forrests. Enrora had no memory of anything after that except the leaving of the cave and the walk home. Her abilities with Unseen things had greatly increased however, and apparently she had learned much under the tutelage of the magical beings. She found herself speaking with those who had just recently died and had not yet gone on across the Veil. She could also move objects without touching them with a little concentration.
Her fiancé came forward, despite the gossip inspired by her strangeness and claimed her for his bride. Not everyone was quite so qccepting however. A local preacherman once accosted her on the small main street of the town where she had gone to pick up supplies and mockingly called her the Witch of Endor, saying she would destroy the good Christians of the area just as her namesake had done to Saul. Endora laughed in his face and told him to go back to his Bible and reread the story as she knew he had completely misinterpreted the text. He stormed off in a huff of indignant self-righteousness. And from that moment on, Endora would answer to nothing else but the name he had given her. Her real name is forgotten to all save herself as the last person to know it has been in the grave for over fifty years.
When John died, she moved north to the Catskills to live with his kin there and found that mountain people are pretty much the same everywhere. Settling in, she was known only as Thye Witch or The Witch of Endor. Years later, the government intervened and moved everyone in the small settlement into the city of Megatropolis as the land had become condemned and confiscated by the US government for undisclosed reasons. Not willing to tell citified strangers her given name, she refused to tell them anything but her nickname. Some comedian masquerading as a social worker decided to name her himself. Her official name became a tribute to sitcom television and cable cartoons. Once it was explained to her, Endora allowed as how this was a good joke, and once settled into her new home, she began watching her namesakes with glee.
She found herslef settled into a small home in a housing project for the elderly where she made good use of a yard for growing the herbs and plants she had brougt with her from her old home. Her house tends to smell oddly as she brews her concoctions outside as often as possible in a cauldron over an opeen fire. The social workers are not always pleased with hter efforts to continue life as much as she did ages ago – save for indulging in some of the modern conveniences that she truly appreciates. She still helps neighbors and others who come to her with her abilities and cures. And she entertains the children in the surrounding neighborhoods with her antics on Halloween when she stradles her six foot long oak staff and flies it around cackling as only a good witch can.
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Atlas (Zandaarx)
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Username: Zandaarx
Full Name: Atlas
Public Name: Atlas
Secret Identity: Huck Freeman
Race: Inter-racial(white mother-black father)
Birthplace: Columbia, South Carolina
Age: 23
Occupation: convenience store clerk
Gender: male
Moral Standing: Huck is definitely a hero, but doesn't mind bending the law a little here and there to get the job done. While he draws the line at killing, but he will use brute force.
Appearance: Huck stands relatively tall at 6 feet even and well built enough to turn heads.In costume he wears a Golden Age styled out fit.See below.
Super Powers: The source of his abilities is that he posses at density 50 times greater than the average human being. This also makes him 50 times as strong and 50 times as fast. He is also bullet-proof.He is 50 times more impervious to temperatures.So, basically his powers are simply a by-product of his incredible density. For a blade to cut him it must be at least 50 times as sharp and maneuvered with 50 times as much momentum. He feels heat and cold but only at extreme temperatures, 50 times that of which would affect the likes of us. This works across the board. For example, the average human jaw can bite at 800 pounds of pressure per square inch affected; our hero¡¯s bite would therefore weigh in at 40,000 pounds of pressure per square inch affected.
Super Weaknesses: However, being 50 times as dense as your average mild-mannered reporter for a major metropolitan newspaper does have its drawbacks! Huck is also 50 times heavier than most folks of his size and has about 50 times the average joe's need for caloric intake. He needs to feed almost constantly. He can't make use of elevators, cars, trains, planes, buses, etc. He also has to be really sure about the structural integrity of any building he enters. He must always maintain his mental bearings when interacting with others; a handshake could cripple, a hot date could come to a deadly end. Also, he wants to fight crime, not kill criminals.
Personality: He's a pretty laid-back guy when not in costume. He likes kicking back and listening to Bob Marley. He has big dreams, but lacks motivation. He's pretty much a bona-fide slacker living on minimum wage. He appears outwardly to be upbeat and cheerful, but deep-down he's quite depressed and a bit cynical.
Origin / History: Having always been a depressed child, who would worry too much about those around him, his father would at times call him Young Atlas, because he always appeared to have the weight of the world on his young shoulders. Shortly aftr entering unversity it was discovered that his mother was dying of cancer. He returned home to take care of her. After her death, only three months later. He told his father that he would not continue his education, but become a painter instead. So he moved out to the mountains, using his inhertance to buy a cottage by the lake, much like Thoreau at Walden. One night while swimming in the lake, there was a sudden lightning storm.The lightning was striking all around him overhead. While trying to get back to shore Huck was struck by lightning. He awoke the next morning lying in a deep, glassy crater. He made his way weakly back to his cabin, where he then proceeded to consume a month's worth of food supplies. Was awake all night trying to remember what did or didn't happen. By the next day, he was feeling weak again, so he decide he should go to the nearest town to buy some more food. His motorcycle made it over just one small hill before collapsing. It was then that he noticed that the engine's remains weren't burning him. Then he looked down at his feet and realized that they were sunk to the ankle in the dirt of the road. As he tried to pick up his motorcycle's remains he inadvertantly tossed it into the heart of the forest. Seeing the explosion of its landing, he ran to put it out, thereby running through a tree (a mile away), and falling off a cliff. Total time of realization: 2 seconds.
Writing Sample #1: Huck, having just finished of his sixth cheese steak, was longing for the days when a glass of beer after work would have mattered, or at least have been an option. Unluckily, this just wasn't the case for Huck. Night was falling, and his shift at the Handy Pantry would soon be over. Four patrol cars just zoomed by. Something big was going down, and as soon as he got off work he would go check it out. His "relief" had just arrived.
"Hi, Sophia." God, she looks great! he thought.
"Hi, Huck. Everything ok?"
"Yeah, pretty much." She smells like roses, he thought.
"D'you want to stick around for a while tonight, Huck? I'll buy you some twinkies."
Two more cruisers flashed by.
"Sorry, there's something I need to take care of tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."
After Huck left the store he ducked into an alley and speedily changed into his costume. It would be just another night of the same old, same old.
Or so he thought...
Writing Sample #2: Hearing the sirens, screams, and shots ring through the canyonous streets, the city's newest hero realizes he's on the right track. Running at quarter-speed,a mere 200mph, for a few seconds some Megatropolitans are witness to a mysterious yellow and blue flash streaking its way through the back alleys. As he arrives on the scene, he briefly notices his reflection in a shop window. He had to admit it. He looked a bit silly. But there he was, Huck Freeman, dressed like the four-colored heroes of his childhood, all bright yellow and blue. A dark blue mask covering most of his face. A body suit of bright yellow and blue. The strangest were the large bright yellow gloves (padded for the protection of any he may have to hit) and his bright yellow wrestling boots (he'd had to run all the way to Jersey to buy them). He noticed the exposed stitching of his mask and felt a slight pang of embarassment. Upon reflection, he felt wholly inadequate for whatever task he may be about to face.
As he looked out onto the scene, he knew he was right. Before him was a scene of carnage and ruin, more likely to be witnessed in Gaza than in the modern streets of Megatropolis. He saw what appeared to be two children, one leaning over the other. One dead, one alive. The one still living appeared to be some super-guy's sidekick. Why else would a child be in the middle of such a scene? The boy appeared to be weeping. The boy moved away from the body towards three figures not too far away. One, obviously a woman, had long white hair and a form-fitting white body suit, The second was The Ice Pheonix, he had read about him in the Globe, the third was a large, well muscled man wearing sunglasses.
The moment of hesitation and observation was now at an end as he decided to, quite on purpose, walk over to the strange quartet at normal speed(The longer he had this power\curse the harder it was not to use them all the time, as if was somehow normal). He couldn't help but think of the exposed stitching of his mask as he approached the the modern-Olympians, thinking to himself that he would accept what ever course lay before him as the newest member of this pantheon of modern titans.
"Hello, evening. Can I be of any assistance here?" he asked doing his best George Reeves impression.
He was tryig very hard not to look too carefully at the white maiden, or her body suit. This was neither the time nor the place to think of baser thoughts. He placed his hand caringly on the the shoulder of the tearful child, which didn't really seem to be a child at all, anymore. He offered his other hand to the one known as The Ice Pheonix.
"My name's Atlas. I'm new to Megtropolis and I would really like to help in any way I can?"
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