Oh boy, Justin. Loved playing this guy. Honestly, he was a total asshole drama queen shitlord, through and through, but I enjoyed every little thing I got to do with him. He was just a blast to play as.

[hider=Justin Case]
Name: Justin Case
Alias: Somebody called him Brainstorm once. He obviously objected the name, but it stuck anyway.

Gender: Male
Age: 19

Appearance: Justin is of Caucasian (or Italian?) decent. He's 5'9", and 125 lbs. Along with sporting an average frame on a equally average body, Justin has short cropped brown hair, light brown eyes, and no facial hair. No piercings or tattoos either. He has a thing for graphic tees, and tends to wear those the most. There's no real preference when it comes to other articles of clothing.

There's not much to his superhero ensemble, and at the moment, he's just fine with that. The getup consists of a pair of vintage bike riding goggles (similar to these, their lenses mirrored, to give at least some anonymity), a faded black bandana that he uses to wrap around/obscure his nose and mouth, a weathered leather jacket (in which he plans to put some sort of emblem on the back of it, but hasn't had the time or money implement his idea), a pair of loose fitting black military boots, and the pair of jeans and shirt he was wearing that day. He's never had the time (or the proper budget) to put any sort of real costume together, and he'd rather put money into adjustments and upgrades to his glove.

Personality: Justin could be best described as "too big for his britches". 'Arrogant', 'snarky', and 'careless' would be some of his defining traits. He tends to not care of other people's thoughts or feelings, and gets defensive when he's put on the spot or someone finds a flaw in something of his. But, why should he be nice? If other people can be dicks and get away with it, why can't he?

Alignment: He tries to be Good, but has a tendency to stray. Can be easily swayed if the situation presents itself.

Superpowers: Peak human intelligence (and exponentially climbing), and a resistance to most (if not all) forms of electricity and plasma. Along with such abilities, He's created a gauntlet/glove/something-or-other, called the "Awe: Mk. IV" (he named it himself, could you tell?). What could be best described as a "TASER Glove made from household materials", the Awe is capable of generating short bursts of electricity from the nodes placed along the fingers, fingertips, and palm. Justin actively makes attempts at improving of his invention, hoping to one day be able to generate enough electricity to use in a projective force.

Weaknesses: At the end of the day, Justin's still just a squishy, defenseless human. He's had no real combat training, and he's not all that durable. Not to mention a glass jaw. There's a reason why he's so mouthy. He might be quick witted, but he's not all that quick on his feet. All it takes is a person that person that can shrug off his Awe, and he'll crumple like it was his first day in 6th grade.

He doesn't like to admit it though.

Biography: I could start this at the beginning, talk about how Justin was born and raised in a dull part of Harlem, NY. About how he lived with his father, Joesph Case, who worked as a electrician. Instead, i'll just skip ahead, to the motivation.

School times were strenuous for young Justin. He was one of those cases where a bully and his cronies would find one unfortunate soul, and basically torment him or her with little to no relent. It was doubly bad for Justin, seeing as he had to deal with Cortez and his band of merry men in every class he had, and during every walk home too. And like those with a constant enemy, he began to grow used to the torment. To a point, that is. Cortez's abuse grew as he realized Justin's coping. But, whatever, right? Justin still graduated from his junior high school, top of his class. He might've gotten valedictorian if he weren't so distracted with not being this one guy's personal chew toy.

Then, high school rolled around. The first minutes of his first class, the first thing Justin realized, was his good friend Cortez, giving him a sly smile from across the room. Jesus, was he gonna have to deal with this guy for the rest of his life? Justin couldn't come to terms with that. He tried finding a way to distance himself from this guy, changing his classes, changing his lunch time, changing his school. But, those plans were simply scrapped. His parents wouldn't let him switch schools, and his guidance counselor didn't think it would be beneficial to have him drop out of his AP and Honors classes. He was stuck. And (finally) it made him angry. Granted, he had no thoughts of doing anything too drastic (murder? Why ruin my life over somebody else's faggotry?) but he did want to do something to the boy. Something that would put him away for awhile...or at least get the fucker off his back for a week. One weekend, he found a solution through a bout of web surfing. He found a few links, directions to making what they called a "stun glove". It made him smirk, there were so many variations to the concept, and yet, they were all so simple.

He soon got to work on his very own stun glove. A rough prototype was finished within the hour. A dull buzzing began to inhabit the quiet room, a sign that his creation was a success, or at least, that it could turn on. Without thinking, he tested the glove on himself, hoping to get some sort of shock out of it. To his surprise, (or more specifically, disappointment) the glove inflicted no damage. He tried it again, and again, and again. No result. So, he did the next best thing. If there was no damage being inflicted, then maybe he just need to enhance the voltage. So, Justin discarded the recommended AA battery, and used the battery from his dad's car instead. After a quick transition of reconfiguring a much needed jumper cable, the adjustment was complete. As he turned it on, the previously quiet hum of the device was now more of a loud drone. He rubbed his foil-tipped fingers together, felt the heat of electricity as bluish-white sparks jumped from his tips. He didn't even have to test it now, he could visibly see the results! Even so, there was still one variable he wanted to test out, and it lived right down the block.

With the car battery in tow, Justin made the short trip to the bully's house. Knocking on his door, Justin couldn't believe his luck as he watched Cortez open the door (maybe his parents worked on the weekend? Whatever, don't care). No more words were said on Justin's behalf. His pointer finger protruded, he jabbed straight at Cortez's chest. White-hot lightning exited from the glove, and entered the bully's heart. Call him crazy, but watching that kid jitter and shake as he experienced convulsions made him chuckle. Comeuppance was sweet, and karma was a bitch. He gave his nemesis one good threat before departing, the boy still collapsed over his threshold.

With his mission accomplished, you'd think the stun glove would've been retired to a spot in his closet, only to be reminisced on during a daydream. Instead, it became more of a pet project, Justin beginning to think how this venture of his could be improved on. Maybe extend the force of his electrical burst? Or perhaps make the cumbersome battery easier to carry? With these thoughts, he dubbed his stun glove the "Awe, Mk. I", and began conjuring suggestions for a Mk. II.

Fast forward about five years. Without Cortez's threatening distractions, 18-year-old Justin had graduated high school with ease, a fresh scholarship to the New York Institute of Technology tucked neatly under his belt. By the end of that school year, He had just finished working on his prized possession, the "Awe Mk. IV". He managed to work his custom battery pack into a seemingly inconspicuous bookbag, and found a new likeness for copper wires (luckily in some bountiful supply due to his father's occupation). However, he couldn't find a way to increase the Awe's current level of voltage, at least, not without gaining illegal substances or performing illegal acts. His budget was already lackluster, and with the additional fees that come with college (and his bad additude keeping him from holding on to a job), he couldn't think of a way to keep his project properly financed.

However, he came across an ad during one of his sessions of net surfing. A company of some sort, called Seraphim. They were looking for individuals with extraordinary talents, ones that were willing to to help clean the city of anonymous miscreants, their numbers apparently growing in size, and becoming too much for the local police to handle on their own. Granted, most of the ad didn't get a rise out of him, but the promise of a paycheck did. As he looked down towards his Awe, he began to think of such an opportunity. Could he be so willing to risk his life to make the living conditions safer for he and those around him?

"Ha! Hell no." The idea was quickly dismissed.

Some weeks from then, Justin was traversing his way through late night Manhattan, on his way home from a class. Mostly engrossed in his thoughts, Justin failed to notice what type of neighborhood he was walking through. He also failed to notice the shady looking person that had been trailing him since 125 St. Soon, the assailant was upon Justin, brandishing a knife and yelling about money. As Justin stammered in fear, the robber threw him to the ground. It was becoming harder for Justin to think straight as his heart thumped in his ears, but he did remember one thing: he packed the Awe before leaving for class. It was some stroke of luck, but one gloved palm to the face was all that was needed to subdue the man. Just like that, Justin had come full circle. He had created the first Awe to take care of a bully, and four versions later he had to use it for its original purpose. A moment like that could've been considered significant to someone else...but apparently, not to Justin. Truth be told, he probably didn't even realize it.

Catching his breath, Justin stood up straight. He couldn't stop thinking of how strangely easy that was. Continuing his trek home, he began wondering of how a yearly salary with Seraphim could benefit both his studies, and his projects.

The thoughts of a Mk V on an actual budget came to him lastly, and he wondered if the organization would even consider him if he put in a resume. 
[/hider]

There was also Richard, the halberd-toting dragonmorph known better as Soarele Negru, The Black Sun. 

[hider=The Black Sun]
Name: Richard de Bertrand 
Alias: The mage that commandeered his mind dubbed him Soarele Negru: The Black Sun.

Gender: Male
Age: 30

Appearance: Augmented by the sorcery relentlessly pumped into him, Richard is a 6'2-inch tall Caucasian male. He's built like a quarterback, with steadily thinning brown hair, steadily graying pale skin, shimming yellow eyes, and a grim disposition. Upon entering the present day, he was wearing the colors of his kingdom. Blackened scale metal armor, sans, helmet, a white cross emblazoned over the breastplate. His altered form, the massive imposing dragon, is covered in rugged, sandpaper-esque, gray scales. A series of ascending sized black horns line his snouted skull, matching his sharp, blackened teeth, and black claws.

Personality: Fiercely loyal to his implemented "mission", unpredictable, impulsive, not in his right mind.

Alignment: Richard finds both sides of the spectrum in need of cleansing, and will not align himself with the filth polluting the world.

Superpowers: Trained from youth to serve his kingdom, Richard has the expert combat skills of the elite branch of knights he operated under. His weapon of choice is a straight-bladed halberd. Once a ordinary spear, it was enchanted by the sorcerer that abducted him. Now called the Whiteraze, the halberd is capable of igniting into white-hot flames with a thought, and can return to him if thrown. Also gifted to him by the wizard, was the [i]Sigillum Dei Aemaeth[/i], the occult diagram charred into his chest and back. With the marking driving his person, Richard is granted an immunity to fire and diseases, as well as the ability to mutate into a 9'6 tall dragon with a ten foot long wingspan. In this form, he can spew flames of varying temperatures, along with a poisonous and extremely flammable black smog, capable of suffocating the unprepared in minutes.

Weaknesses: As formidable as he may be in his human form, he his still human at the end of the day. He could be taken out by modern day weaponry. His dragon form, while impressively durable, isn't indestructible, and could also be subdued and suppressed with enough firepower.

Biography: Sometime during the early 1200s, medieval kingdoms were all the rage throughout Europe. And with kingdoms, came kings. And with kings, came the quest for power over the land. And this craving came the force, the tide turners. The armies, the way to police the land you have, while fighting over the land you want. Richard de Bertrand was a knight in one of these armies, happily battling his bordering countries in the name of his greedy, selfish king. And his god, of course. One particular skirmish, however, produced a unique variable. A deranged mage by the name of Emil Metodija separated Richard from his troupe with illusions, before subduing him and retreating to his lair with his prize in tow. See, Emil was in cahoots with one of the bordering countries, one of which Richard's army was besieging their way through at the moment. With this new specimen in his possession, Emil had a potential Trojan horse to use against the ones currently stomping their way through his homeland.

"This pawn could raze his own home in under a day..." The more he thought of a plan, the more spells and enchantments came to mind. Firstly, after laying the unconscious knight upon his operating table, he conjured a large tome, filled with magical incantations and spells. He flipped through a few pages, and homed in on his first charm. One to implant false visions into his mind and alter his sights. One to enchant the knight's favored weapon. Emil felt his task to be complete after that, but then had a thought. "He willn't last long like this. He needs..." He rummaged around his trunk of magical items. One "aha!" of realization later, he produced two artifacts. A medallion made of gold covered in polygons and words, a large polished rune forged from a malachite ore. "The seal of god..." He addressed the medallion as he pressed it into the knight's chest. As Emil muttered incantations, the medallion began to glow red hot, and seared into the unconscious warrior. "This will imbue you with ability to truly obliterate your kingdom. A precaution, however. In time, the beast within you will consume you whole." Removing the medallion left a smoldering burn that left the skin charred. As his skin began to lose pigment, he moved on to the the second artifact.
[/hider]

A second character I created for the RP, one that refused to side with the heroes or the villains, and instead favored destroying both sides.