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Character you have created: Mercy
Alias: Mercy

Speech Color: [color=9e005d]Pinkish Purple[/color]

Character Alignment: Villain

Identity: Secret

Character Personality: 

Mercy is shaped by trauma. Her parents tried to kill her as a little girl when her powers manifested for the first time and her uncle was a victim of the cruelty of society. She has no faith in society or the laws that guide it. Mercy is very driven and will not hesitate to make any sacrifice necessary to heal the world and exorcise the cancer that is eating it alive. She will also defend against anything that she sees as a cancer or other infection that approaches the world. Mercy is also an incredibly compassionate being. Her truest goal is healing and she weeps for every live that she destroys even those of the parasites and the cancers. 

Uniform/costume: 
[hider=Mercy Actor Choice][img]http://www.moviestarspicture.com/photos/sienna-guillory/thumbs/thumbs_Sienna-Guillory-photograph.jpg [/img][/hider]
Mercy-
The form of Mercy that everyone sees is an idealized angelic piece of wish fulfillment as she makes for herself a new body. In her idealized form she has long red hair, red and gold robes that billow out from her body and a set of six red feathered wings that grow outwards from her back. Her wings are not made to fly and are part of the image of Mercy. The form was inspired by angels and the red color symbolizes the blood that she knows will be shed in curing the world’s sickness. Her eyes are also red as Mercy and her body and face are idealized. She looks like an idealized version of herself with the changes mentioned.

Origin Info/Details: I don’t remember everything and my memory is not perfect no matter how much I wish it was. But I remember happiness and my family, kind faces that beamed down at me as I played with toys like any other normal child. But I wasn’t normal. My parents were devout and when my powers first manifested everything changed. The cries of hate from those I loved, “Demon, Monster, Abomination” still echo in my head and the darker moments that followed the cries still dance behind my eyes. The raised steak knife held in a hand that had once comforted me and the charred corpses that followed still haunt me.

The police eventually found me when a neighbor complained about the smell coming from our house. My parent’s deaths were ruled freak accidents and I was sent to live with my uncle. Uncle Richard, bless his soul was loving but oblivious and forgetful. I only learned later that he was suffering from Alzheimer’s. I spent 14 years with Uncle Richard in his house that always smelled of lemons and I discovered my love of healing. There was so much that was broken there, the dishes with cracks that I fixed with a thought, the old heating system, the rusty pipes, the rats with their legs caught in the traps he kept putting out. The world always needed healing, even the pieces that no one thinks about.

When Uncle Richard was taken away I was 17 and finally realizing there was something wrong with him, something I couldn’t fix. He had gone for a walk naked and in a delirium while I was at school and been picked up by the police. That was the first time I realized how sick the world really was, when my uncle who was struggling to keep his mind together was put on trial for what only a sick world would see as criminal. I didn’t know what the world was like though and I tried to work inside the system. I paid for my Uncle’s bail with money I made and then paid for the home where he went. Everyone believed it was his old savings that had paid for it but I knew the truth. 

I was supposed to enroll in college and my grades were good enough but I was already sickened by the world around me. I wanted to help people and my gift could heal so I knew where to start but there was no opening that didn’t require me to touch the sickness in society. Faith healing was the first thing I tried but I had no faith in any God above or below and people don’t trust a faith healer without a faith. Besides I had started to realize that healing a person at a time would never heal the world. The world wasn’t just sick, it was putrid, rancid, and decaying as cancers ate at it. I have to act, I can bring healing to the world, and if it is too far gone, then I can bring it a final mercy.

Hero Type (Select one):
Other: Matter Manipulation/Creation

Power Level:
D. Cosmic

Powers:

Matter Manipulation/Creation: Mercy creates and controls matter. She can create things from nothing at all, and reshape matter with her will. Mercy does have trouble directly changing sentient beings who oppose being changed due to their own control over their bodies, but it is possible with effort and focus to change all but the most durable over time.

Radiance of Creation: Mercy is the Radiance of Creation, one of 7 primal cosmic forces of the multiverse and as such cannot truly be destroyed or slain. If her body is destroyed she can form a new one or appear as a billowing cloud of red light of varying size, though she is not yet aware of this, or of her actual identity as the Radiance of Creation.

Attributes: 

As her normal Mercy form. She can make her form stronger or weaker should she so choose.

Strength Level: 50+ tons

Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 30+ mph

Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Physically Infinite, Mentally 3 hours(Will increase once she taps into her full potential as Radiance of Creation)

Agility: 10X+

Intelligence: Genius(if a little warped)

Fighting Skill: Untrained

Resources: N/A

Weaknesses:
As the Radiance of Creation Mercy has few obvious weaknesses. She does however need to focus to create or alter matter in a complicated fashion, certain things are just instinctive and do not require focus. She cannot manipulate magic or dark matter directly and can only act on it using regular matter constructs. While her energy and potential seems limitless it is possible to wear her down if she is given no time to rest while expending massive amounts of energy. 

Supporting Characters (Does your character have a significant other? A mother? Friend? Who are they, what do they have to do with your character?):

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards: Yes I do.

Sample Post:

The World is sick and slowly dying. Sometimes I used to wonder if I was the only one who could see how the strands of corruption twine through the fabric of the World, the dark and decaying patches in the structures that support it. Now I know that I am alone and that only I can see and touch the pieces.

 Images flicker across the television screen as I stare at it with interest. The streak of silver and blue shoots into the sky to catch a falling space station in his hands and I find myself wondering if he too with his power can see how sick the world really is. Then I see him save a parasite, a node of the infection that saps life from the world and my hope for a kindred soul wilts inside of me.

I flick my wrist and the television goes blank. I stretch out and then stand up from the uncomfortable hotel chair with a faint popping sound as my back cracks. I know it is time for me to act but I still wonder if there is another way. I want to heal, not to kill and death will come to many because of me even if the World can still be purged of the cancer that eats at it. For a moment my conviction wavers even as my hands reach out to turn the handle and open the door and I leave the motel room. 

But I remember pain and betrayal, the steak knife raised in my mother’s hand as love turned to hate, the way poor Uncle Richard was taken away as his mind failed him. The World is so far gone that it attacks itself, pieces of the World conspire to leave others to sicken and die. I will change this, I will heal this World.

The motel doors open for me and the bright light of the sun silhouettes me in the doorway as I walk out onto the streets of Lost Haven. Little Ulster, the part of Lost Haven that the cancer has corrupted and cut off. The parasites do not care because as long as the cancer festers away from their feeding grounds they are untouched and the weakened people become easy prey for them.

I know not if this is the right course, I must act. Why else would I have this power? 

I call to the World and I hear it answer as billions of tiny threads and pieces become clear to me. A deep breath fills my lungs as I take a final moment to ready myself. Then I change myself. It takes practice to change, to know which threads to pull and which pieces to alter so that a change is stable and I have practiced this change many times. My body ripples as I change the structures and finally the aesthetics change too. Wings grow from my back, my hair grows and changes, I feel my bones and flesh shift and rearrange as my new clothing forms around me too, a raiment fit for she who will heal the World.

I hear gasps as people see the changes and I say goodbye to my old appearance and body, knowing that I can never return to it. People look at me in shock, a crimson angel emerging from an ordinary girl; I even see one bow out of the corner of my eyes.

The air solidifies beneath my feet as I step into it and with a thought I am lifted up into the sky. I spread flightless wings and pose for a moment above the city as I gaze down at it. A network of streets for people to travel upon, and a network of causeways through which the parasites feed and the cancer spreads. 

The causeways are always the last part to fail, the cancer needs them to spread through the nodes of the city and the parasites use them to transport their ill-gotten gains. I do not know if fixing the decay in the buildings and infrastructure will cure the infection. Does the cancer follow the parasites or do the parasites follow the cancer? I can only learn by action. Even though the World made me so that I could heal it, it did not tell me how.

My hands rise and my wings curl around me while my vision distorts as I see the threads of the World and all the tiny building blocks that make the city below me. I imagine perfection below me as I hover over Little Ulster and with perfection in my mind I thrust my arms out and unfurl my wings. A wave of change sweeps out from me as I struggle to shape the change as I had imagined it.

Damaged buildings change as the air shivers and changes to patch holes seamlessly, potholes smooth over, graffiti is erased, and damage is undone. I am careful; the changes do not touch the people below, bending around them. But some buildings are not fixed and as the city shakes as if there is an earthquake many of the worst places in Little Ulster, the nodes of cancer and the lairs of petty parasites are dragged down into the earth. In their places I raise new structures, a park stands where once a gang infested tenement sprawled, fresh new apartments replace the slums, and derelict buildings are replaced with clean new ones.

I feel a pang of sorrow because no matter how careful I was to only unmake the world places there would still be innocents lost. The changes stop and I feel my head pound as I continue to stare down at the newly remade part of the city.