Para Category: Omega Threat Level: 4 Powers/Abilities: As an Omega class Parahuman Robert has two distinct abilities; Extended Tactile Senses – A kind of extrasensory ability which allows Robert to feel things using any surface within 100 feet of him. If nothing is happening he does not have a sense of what those surfaces are or what they are currently in contact with, it does not give him a 3D map of his surrounding environments or give him any clues as to its layout. However, if something comes into contact with a surface within his range he will have a sense of where that contact occurred in relation to his current location, i.e. direction and distance. He will also be given a sense of what the surface is and what the object that came into contact with it looks like and how forceful the contact was; all information he does not have when things are still.
It is a complicated sensation; one that Robert is still growing accustomed to and one that he has difficulty explaining to others.
Imbuement – Robert has the ability to empower items that he touches with a variety of different Parahuman-like abilities, expending a limited amount of energy in the process. The abilities are varied but usually take the form of different Beta or Gamma class powers such as elemental control or enhanced attributes. The item is usually given a number of charges or a set duration for the power, depending on if the ability needs to be activated or is passive; once the charges or duration is expended the item returns to normal.
The activation of the power is something only Robert can do, meaning that the empowered items cannot be handed to another Parahuman or non-Parahuman to use unless the ability is passive in nature. Once Robert of expended his daily allowance of energy he can no longer imbue any other items with abilities until he has next slept, which seems to recharge whatever internal battery this power works on. At the same time, any items that have been empowered by Robert lose whatever power they had when Robert falls asleep or otherwise loses consciousness.
Skills: • Leadership – Robert has been a leading figure in both the anti-Lorne groups he used to be a part of and the Parahuman Protection Society he has since joined for over fifteen years at this point. He is very well acquainted with being in a leadership position both at an operational and at a strategic level. • Urban warfare tactics – For years Robert was a member in what could easily be described as an insurgency within Marlon, taking part in and leading operations that often brought him into conflict with the police and with Lorne’s private security. He has a good understanding of urban fighting and the tactics it requires. • Weapons training – Robert’s experience with the group Citizen has given him ample opportunity to learn how to use a number of firearms in the field.
Weaknesses: • Wanted man – Seen as the successor of William Grace, once the most wanted man in Marlon, Robert is also highly wanted by both the authorities and Lorne. This would already be a problem were it not for his prosthetic arm making it very difficult for him to blend into a crowd in any meaningful way. • Power-induced headaches – With the large amount of information it can provide him, Robert’s sensory ability can at times overwhelm him. If he focuses on what it is telling him rather than pushing it to the back of his mind as he usually does it can lead to painful, even debilitating, migraines. • Age – To put it bluntly, Robert is too old to be a rebel any longer. He is slower than he used to be, weaker, and tires more easily. Rebelling is a young man’s game and it seems like every fight is another reminder of why this is the case.
Brief History: There was a time, before Lorne moved in and took over everything, when Robert was a normal guy. He was an only child growing up in a bad neighbourhood, poor, but his parents were good, hardworking people who raised him to be the same; his dad taught him how to fix things, how to drive, how to fight and things like that while his mom taught him morals and ethic and life lessons and helped him with school work. He was luckier than most.
He went to school and worked hard, even though he felt it wasn’t his thing, because that was what he was taught to do and because he wanted to rise up out of his humble beginnings and he needed an education for that. After graduation he tried college for the same reasons only to drop out after a year and a half and enrol in a trade school instead; his parents were a little disappointed and he felt like he was disappointing them, but working with his hands just suited him better than books or exams ever would. After that he went to work in a factory, repairing machines and equipment and helping to keep the place running smoothly.
Five years later the building he worked in and the company that owned it were bought out; Lorne moving in a taking over like they did with everything. People were apprehensive about a large corporation buying the company they worked for, but there were no layoffs and assurances were made that no major changes were to be made. For a while at least business continued as normal, with the only difference being the name that appeared on Robert’s bank statement when his pay came in.
Over time however, Lorne made their presence known. New management and oversight was brought in, a Human Resources department established and filled with corporate suits, people were fired and no replacements brought in as work crews were stripped down and corners cut in important areas in the name of profit. Where before they were judged for the quality of their work, they were now being judged for their quantity; people that weren’t productive enough were fired and more pressure was put on those left to pick up the slack. Accidents and injuries became more common, as did repairs as the number of breakdowns rose and Robert and his colleagues were having trouble keeping up.
People complained of course. Overworked production line men and mechanics and shift managers who predated the takeover, they all voiced their own concerns and made their own stink about what going on and every time they received the same generic response about how they were being heard and that this was just a transitional period and how things would get better. Things never got better of course and anyone who made too much of a nuisance of themselves or who tried to get others involved, especially anyone who spoke of a strike, would coincidentally fail their next review and find themselves out the door.
Robert wished he was one of those people. He should have made more noise when he could.
He was twenty eight when a routine repair finally went wrong. He was repairing a machine that should have been replaced years ago, that had been pushed too hard, when a safety mechanism failed while he was elbow deep in its inner workings. His forearm was crushed, the limb barely recognisable as anything other than ground meat by the time they managed to free him. Of course the investigation found that he was the one at fault and the corporation denied him medical costs or compensation, instead firing him for negligence and leaving him crippled and unemployed. He blew through his savings covering the costs of his amputation and recovery and only managed to avoid homelessness by moving back in with his parents.
He next few years were a blur of short lived jobs, alcohol and becoming increasingly depressed at his current situation. Lorne, the company that drove him towards his current state and then kicked him to the curb, seemed like an ever growing presence in the city; their fingers reached into every facet of his life and the more he cared to look the more he could see their influence and their wealth. It disgusted him. It was at this point that he found other like-minded people who had similar reasons to dislike or even hate the Lorne Corporation; protesters, activists and other outspoken individuals who objected to Lorne for any number of reasons, whether they were personal like his own or simply objecting to any entity growing as powerful as Lorne had.
Robert took part in the protests from that moment on, joining the marches and waving the signs and telling his story to people who would listen, but in the face of the juggernaut they were trying to fight it was pointless. They were too few in number, their voices too small, to deal a significant blow what Lorne had become. They had entire PR departments working to drown them out and counter their message, while telling the same lies and handing out the same false promises they had always given; activism could only do so much when Lorne’s influence had reach the levels of local government, the police and even the courts.
At some point a small minority of those in the anti-Lorne group began to take more direct action. Otherwise peaceful protests would erupt into violence against the police or Lorne’s private security, vandalism and destruction of Lorne property and buildings became more prevalent and even attacks against Lorne employees weren’t unheard of as some people grew dissatisfied with the lack of progress they were making. There was one man in particular who was the loudest voice calling for greater action against Lorne, one man who stirred up the anger into violence and who organised the angriest and most hateful into a pseudo-rebellion; William Grace.
Robert was one of the people caught up in William’s growing movement, as his personal loss at the hands of Lorne made him especially vengeful towards them, and the two struck up a quick friendship. With his arm there was little Robert could do to help take action, but his story was an easy way to demonstrate how ruthless the Corporation could be at times and Robert used this to help recruit people to William’s cause. There numbers grew and with the increased manpower their actions escalated, organising themselves and planning larger attacks against Lorne’s holdings in the city, while continuing the riots and disruptive actions from before. More people meant more funding, money that they put towards weapons and equipment that they could use to further their cause. Things were growing at a dangerous pace and soon William Grace was the leader of a fully-fledged militia within the anti-Lorne factions of the city.
This did not go unnoticed of course and the group, which had yet to be named, soon became public enemy number one under the less than subtle influence Lorne exerted over the police and the mayor. William and the other leaders of the group were wanted criminals and any affiliation with the group at all became a crime in and of itself. All the while Robert remained a close friend of William’s, helping him organise his people and plan the group’s efforts. Somewhere in the middle of all this William got Robert the prosthetic arm that Lorne had denied him almost a decade ago, so that he could finally take part in the growing rebellion.
There is not much to say about the next few years other than that the group continued to operate as they had, damaging Lorne properties and assets and attempting to disrupt their operation as much as they could. Lorne continued to grow larger and more powerful and William and Robert’s group did the same as the Corporation continued to make more enemies during their expansion and how their at times heavy handed approach to quashing protests and riots was viewed by the public. It was during this time that the group finally adopted a name; Citizen, to reflect their goal of championing the rights of the common citizens of Marlon over the greed of a private entity.
In 2046, William Grace was killed during a raid on Citizen’s headquarters in which many of their more senior members were either killed or arrested. The remaining leadership of the group, Robert included, were torn on how to continue, whether to pull back to avoid further retaliation or to step up their attacks in revenge, or to continue as they had been doing. The disagreements eventually turned into a schism that split Citizen into smaller factions with Robert becoming the new leader of what was probably the closest to his and William’s vision.
Three years later the incident at the Tower occurred and Robert became a Parahuman. Lorne established themselves as a staunchly anti-Parahuman entity, even convincing the government and police to crack down on them and a new faction arose in the city in retaliation. Robert allied what was left of his group with the Parahuman Protection Society, becoming a member of its leading council and a figurehead among the more militant members of the group.
“Tell me again how it works?”
Robert peered over the rim of his cup of coffee, the acrid scent attacking his senses as the young man sat across from him caught his eye. It was just the two of them in the room at the moment, sitting together in what passed for a lounge in what passed for their headquarters; most of the others had better things to be doing in the middle of the day than sit around and passing the time. “How what works?”
“Your power.” The other man leaned forward on his elbows as Robert let out a groan. It would be that, it was always that. “The… what did you call it, ‘tactile extension’?”
Letting out a weary sigh, Robert lowered the cup in his hand onto the table. He looked across the table, staring at the other man in silence and receiving only eager curiosity in return as he weighed up the pros and cons of going through this again. The young man, who wasn’t so young in truth, was someone who had joined Citizen some five or six years ago; in his early thirties by now, but Robert’s threshold for ‘young’ seemed to get lower by the day, and someone who had avoided being caught up in this whole Parahuman mess until Robert had dragged him and the others who followed him into the ranks of the PPS. His name was Tom if Robert’s memory wasn’t failing him.
Robert leaned back, hands lifting from the table and waving through the air as if trying to conjure the right words into existence only to give up and let his hands drop back down with a thud. “It’s hard to explain.”
“You said it was like echolocation, right? But with touch? You see people when they touch things, instead of by the sounds they make. I just want to know what it looks like when it happens.”
“Something like that.” Robert ran a hand, his real hand, through his beard as he tried to put his expanded senses into terms that made sense to someone who didn’t have them. It wasn’t an easy task, especially when he didn’t fully understand them himself. It was like trying to explain colour to a blind person, or pitch to a deaf person. “It doesn’t look like anything. It’s like my sense of touch has been expanded outside my own body. When someone touches the floor or a wall or a table the next room over I can tell. If I close my eyes and stop thinking about it, it doesn’t feel any different than if someone tapped me on the shoulder.”
Tom nodded along, apparently understanding or at least going along with the explanation so far. He seemed like the kind of person who wished he’d gotten powers along with everyone else, one of the few who was enamoured with Parahumans rather than being scared witless of people with dangerous abilities popping up at random. Robert wasn’t sure if he was smarter or dumber than the average person for it. “So does it hurt? Or can it hurt, if someone blew a hole through a wall and you could feel it.”
Shaking his head, Robert picked his coffee back up and took another swig before continuing. “No pain. No heat, no pressure, no itches or anything like that; just a plain old sense of touch. It’s not an extension of my body, just that one sense; I can’t tell it’s there until something happens. There’s no awareness beyond that. There’s no proprioception. Do you know that word?” He got a shake of the head in response and so continued to explain. “It’s a word one of the people in the council used, when I tried to explain this to them. Proprioception is like your awareness of your own body, like how you don’t lose track of where your arms and legs are if you can’t see them or you close your eyes. You still know what your own body looks like and how it’s positioned even if you can’t see it. I don’t have that, I don’t know what the room next door looks like or where anything behind me is just because. It’s not a part of my body, but I can feel through it.”
The glazed over eyes and blank stare was a familiar response, but still a disappointing one. A shame, Robert felt like he had done a pretty good job this time. “But you said you can see things right.” A nod was enough to get Tom to continue. He looked over Robert’s shoulder towards the door behind him, seeing something through the glass and having a flash of inspiration. “Someone just walked past the door. Did you feel them?”
“Yeah it was Charlie.”
A crease of confusion formed as Tom tried to process the quick response. “But you said-“
“I don’t see everything, but I see some things. When something touches a surface I know where it happens and I can see the general outline of what it was. I know it was a person who walked past; I know their general height and weight, their build, what kind of shoes they’re wearing. That sort of thing. In this case I know where they came from and where they are going and I know they have a limp. Charlie has the same limp, he’s about the right height and build for the impression I got and he was over on that side of the building earlier, so it must have been Charlie.”
Tom was scratching his head at this point. “That sounds like a complicated power.”
Pause: Holly has the ability to overdrive her mind, boosting her reactions to the point where the world is almost stopped for her. A second for the world would be an hour for her, for example. It allows Holly to make a new, fully thought through course of action in a position where she has more information or she needs to quickly figure out a way to get out of a sticky situation. Doing this also boosts her thought processes to match, making her slightly smarter in this time. Limited Probability Advisement and Computation: Holly can look at a course of action and calculate her probability of managing to commit to and complete that action, but cannot calculate the effectiveness of that action. A harsh but accurate example is that she can calculate how much of a chance she has to break someone’s arm, but cannot calculate if breaking the arm would put him out of the fight or if he would just keep swinging. For the effectiveness, she has to just use her own head to figure out how effective something will be.
Skills:
Escape Artist; Holly will always have a plan of escape, even in situations where everything is fine and dandy. Backing out of an awkward conversation and picking her way out of cuffs are both the same to her; she needs an out, whether that is claiming she needs to go to the bathroom and then slipping away or working out a route of escape for when the opportunity arises. Intelligence: Holly knows when it’s time to break or if she can stay just a little longer, and has the common sense to suspect what may be around the corner without having to peek first. She doesn’t need her ability of probability advisement to know when something is a stupid idea. Street rat: Even in places she hasn’t been before, Holly knows what a good place is to hide and a bad place. She knows the places where the cops roam little and the places that the cops keep on lockdown. She knows the druggies, she’s familiar with the gangs, and she has her badman contacts, couple human, few para. She’s street-smart.
Weaknesses:
Criminal: Though not at the status where every cop would recognise her, a cop running a check on her would probably not find an innocent girl. Because of this, Holly avoids going to the police for any reason, and tries to keep somewhat of a berth between herself and them if she sees one in the street. Caught in a Daze: Holly can sometimes end up stuck in a daze if she is thinking too much whilst using her powers. The probability of many actions can confuse and distract her until she snaps out of it. Someone smart can stick her in a bit of a loop if she falls for it.
Brief History:
Nothing was very good in the early points of Holly’s life. She was what many would call born into the life of crime, under the parenting of a father and mother who mugged, stole and robbed for their lives. Her parents becoming criminals to survive was their choice, after refusing to go to university, to college, to schooling. Holly’s was not her choice - it was how she was raised. She knew that being a criminal was bad, was evil, but after she started committing crimes she found herself in a hole that she couldn’t dig herself out of - but didn’t necessarily want to get herself out of. What kept her onboard for slipping into homes was the fact that she could come out with phones and money, and she would get away with it. Sure, she may have been noticed once or twice on CCTV, and may have been hunted by the police (as well as competitors in the criminal business) a few times, but that was a part of the risk to her, a part of her lifestyle. There wasn’t a way out.
Holly found herself orphaned at the age of nine and placed in an orphanage after her parents were killed in a robbery gone wrong; the owner had been home, and he was not happy about the unexpected intrusion. It was often forgotten that she even lived in the orphanage by those caring for the children as she would spend long days and nights outside. As she grew up, the times that she spent away from the orphanage grew longer, until she left for good, preferring the streets to the stooges who claimed they were good at taking care of children.
From there, Holly began her criminal activities again - by thirteen, she was partaking in small crimes, such as shoplifting to keep herself alive and afloat, selling stolen bits and pieces from electronic shops to gangs to give herself a little money. She was barely touched by the gangs not because she was unique or of high stature with them, but because she was a reliable source.
It was at the age of fifteen that the top of the Tower exploded, and the already tactful Holly was given a gift to help her in her criminal ventures. Ever since the explosion, Holly found herself more calculative about situations she placed herself in, putting more planning into her moves. Finding an advantage came with a scare for her, however; she found that she could pause whilst on the run from the police. She had wondered if she had been caught for she could not move, however she realised that nothing else was moving, either. It took her some time to figure out that she was moving, just at an extremely slow pace, and even longer to figure out how to make everything move normally again. Once she had escaped and time had passed where she was not on the run, she practised controlling the power by watching birds and people, and then triggering a Pause so that she could see everyone and herself slow down. With her new abilities unlocked, she used them to further her criminal activities, and used them to her own advantage, not anyone else’s.
“You just sit back, alright kiddo? There ain’t nothing Ingrid don’t like more than someone interrupting a meeting, so don’t be kickin’ shit around, yeah?”
The girl took a moment to process what her friend was actually saying, but she nodded her head in the meanwhile. Holly was always amused by Alessandro’s wording, which she felt was good as if she wasn’t it would be quite hard to talk to him every time she paid a visit, or rather, he paid her for a visit to hand over whatever she had nabbed for him. As it was, he was a friend to her, and helped keep her up and afloat when she needed it.
“Holly, you gotta tell me you understand, yeah? I don’t want the boss kickin’ my ass.”
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Holly replies, holding her hands up in surrender for a moment. She wasn’t too happy that she wasn’t getting paid immediately, but Alessandro needed to get the cash from his boss to pay her this time, and his boss was going to a meeting with a dealer who operated in the gang’s area and needed to pay the racket fee. Once Holly got the cash, she was going to buy a few candy bars and then screw around in a park somewhere.
Holly and Alessandro strolled down the sidewalk together, making their way to what Alessandro claimed was the meeting place. Holly knew these streets well, and made it a mental game to try and guess which alleyway that Alessandro’s boss had picked to meet in. It always interested her in what the casual citizen would think if just off the streets a whole different world took its place in the darkness of the space between streets.
“Deputy Fatboy is out of his cage again,” Alessandro commented, nodding his head across the street. Holly couldn’t help but giggle as she looked over to the opposite side of the street. The deputy Alessandro was speaking about had all sorts of different names, all of which began with the word fat, but everyone knew who was being spoken about whenever he was brought up. Alessandro had told her that there was a betting pool within the gang on whether Deputy Fatboy was actually a deputy or just some security guard from a small office somewhere that loafed over to the donut shop every day. Holly, though an established criminal, was still learning about some stuff such as criminal culture. When Deputy Fatboy was around, there was sort of an unspoken rule that nobody does wrong, that they let the man take his donuts and go on his way. He was a treasure of the area, some had said.
With Fatboy bellowing through the door about a lack of sugar-coated donuts, Holly was not one to disagree.
“We’re here,” Alessandro said suddenly, and turned into an alleyway. Holly followed, immediately spotting the bulky man that stood within. She recognised him, having met the man a few times before, but she always felt a little unsafe around him. He creeped her out, but so far they only had a working relationship, with most activities conducted through Alessandro - Holly had no doubt that the bossman had others like Alessandro that acted as middlemen to others like herself.
“About time. Got your guns?” Bossman said, his voice booming. Alessando flashed his instantly, with Holly hesitating before showing her own. She had received it one time instead of money, by her request, from Alessandro. Holly was not confident in using it, and had never drawn it so far, but she wanted it as a safety tool, something to use if she needed to defend herself. Even then, she wasn’t sure she could shoot someone. She may ruin someone’s day by snatching their phone or wallet, but she wasn’t sure she could end a life.
It was a short walk from there to the main meeting place, where one lonely woman stood with her arms crossed and waiting. The trio approached the woman, and it was Bossman that took the lead. “Your time is up. That means you need to pay up.” He commanded, simply holding his hand out. It looked to Holly that Bossman had been through this kind of process plenty of times already, and fully expected the druggie to hand over the racket fee.
Things went to hell immediately. There was a flicker of movement from a little further down the alley, and before anyone could say or do anything about it, a shot rang out. Bossman fell instantly, and before Alessandro or Holly could get their guns out, the woman was already on top of him, stabbing and cutting him with what looked like a butcher’s knife. The screams began and then ended instantly from Bossman, and Holly held her pistol with shaking hands, not able to work up the courage to pull the trigger, and then triggered a Pause.
It was almost like a still image in front of her now. Blood halting it’s spread from Bossman’s throat and gut, the woman’s blade buried almost unmoving in Bossman’s chest. A figure down the alley holding what looked like a pistol of his own, and she saw Alessandro’s gun in her peripheral vision. Taking a little time to calm herself, she began looking for places to hide or take cover within her line of sight. Mentally, she automatically calculated her chances to reaching the positions before the gunman turned to engage her.
When she was ready, she unpaused, diving for cover behind a dumpster. Alessandro shot the woman atop Bossman, before receiving a shot to the chest, going down. Holly stared wide-eyed at Alessandro’s unmoving body as she heard footsteps creeping closer to her. She froze up, not sure what to do, barely feeling the strength to lift the pistol that she still held in her hands. Just as the footsteps landed next to her, Alessandro let out a sudden roar, lifting his own pistol to shoot the gunman three times: Holly flinched as the body dropped down next to her, and then quickly ran over to Alessandro, kneeling next to him.
“Holly, I’ll be fine. Bug out, call the guys and tell them what happened,” Alessandro says to her. Holly clutched his hand, letting a few tears drip, before wiping them away and nodding - she was confident when she wasn’t in the immediate threat of death. From where the trio had originally came from she heard sirens, and quickly got up to bolt after a whisper of goodbye to Alessandro. She ran all the way down to the end of the alley and waited there at the corner, to see who was coming. After seeing that none-other than Deputy Fatboy was running into the alley, Holly continued her escape, knowing that at least Alessandro was going to get help. She knew it wouldn’t be his first rodeo in prison.
Appearance: Surprisingly, Rabbit only stands at about 5' 8" and does appear to be quite slim even if he is quite athletic. He is almost always wearing his signature outfit. A black shirt and dress pants combo with a white skinny tie. However his most striking feature is the helmet on his head, which resembles a rabbit. In fact, the ears can droop and perk up, emoting with Rabbit. The voice modulator, instead of being threatening and deep like the MPD, comes off as a more calm tone. Almost creepily so in fact. The Helmet gives him a HUD as well as heightens his audible senses, able to pick up smaller footsteps or a gunshot from far away.
Age: Unknown (Appears to be Mid-20's)
Para Category: Gamma 3
Powers/Abilities: As well as his helmet, Rabbit deploys his power of Vector Manipulation to aid his fighting style. To put it simply, he can choose a direction to "dash" at high speeds at any time. This can be used to strike from the shadows, wall jump. As well as that, he can slow down his speed to make landing as soft as possible, giving him a short moment to calculate his next move.
Skills: White Rabbit is an assassin trained in Ninjutsu, and can deploy all sorts of tactics to use stealth as his main method when completing a contract. He is also a master of the blade, using a High Frequency Katana and Ninjato. By creating an electronic current through the blades, they vibrate at such speeds that it can destabilise the molecular bonds.
Weaknesses: Rabbit doesn't use any ranged weapons, meaning he has to get in close and personal which can always be risky. As well as this, Rabbit doesn't really have any cybernetics yet. Underneath the helmet and behind the blades, Rabbit is completely human and is just as delicate too. He's very confident in his abilities, even overly so. This ends up getting Rabbit in way over his head and this arrogance can land him in a myriad of sticky situations.
Brief History: Not much is known about White Rabbit, and it's not like he lets on much either. In fact he doesn't even use his real name anymore. Before the mask, Rabbit had a pretty unspectacular upbringing. Born in one of the rougher areas of Marlon, it wasn't hard to get into trouble or it would find you. Constant fighting and gang warfare. It was a matter of survival. However, when Rabbit was going around casually thieving, he found a tape... a few of them actually. He took them home and found an old player. In his room, he watched over and over some instructional videos for Ninjutsu and Kenjutsu. Rabbit watched these over and over again, and even beginning to replicate the moves.
Eventually, he began to use these methods on the streets. Turns out Rabbit was pretty good at it, and over practice his talent became sought by many "undesirable" employers. However, the money was too good to turn down. It started with stealing certain objects. However, one time he was forced to fight his way out. Despite taking a few bruises and cuts, he managed to dispatch his opponents with ease. Soon he became better at that too. It was time to seek out some upgrades. Rabbit went to one of his childhood friends, a Prodigy regarding technology. This was how he gained the mask and the swords. Now the White Rabbit is born, he seeks out bigger and better contracts while swearing allegiance to no one but the American Dollar.
"So by pressing the button on the hilt of your swords, you can activate the HF. You got all that?"
"Yeah, I got it... Time to test out this new Gear. Thanks, Marcus..."
"Just remember my cut from this job this time, okay?"
Atop one of the residential complexes, the White Rabbit chuckles behind his helmet, looking down upon the alley below. "Alright, alright! I'll remember... Later..." Rabbit dismissed the voice call and looked down below. An Arms Deal was taking place between two local gangs. However, one of them contracted Rabbit to take down their rivals making the 'transaction' void and they get away with the guns. Rabbit activated his Heads-Up-Display, giving a read out of the situation. Five allies with five enemies. Seemed it would be better to attack from behind.
Silently, he re-positioned from four floors up. The plan was already formulating in his head. The plan was already formulating in his head. He can land from behind and cut his enemies down. Nothing too hard. The alley was a dead end so it wasn't like they would be watching their backs. Below, the gangsters were loading the weapons into the trucks. A variety of guns and explosives that would boost the Gang's standing on the totem pole. This kind of firepower... it could make them reach the very top if they played it right. Rabbit unsheathed his katana, watching it catch the moonlight. Guess it was time to test the new toys. With a barely audible click, the blade shimmered to life, a stray spark of electricity crackling up the length of the sword before residing within the blade. Rabbit looked down to the scene below. The weapons were loaded. It was time. With an exhale, Rabbit took a step off and dropped.
The velocity would've been blistering if it wasn't for the helmet. However, it the rush of air was short lived as Rabbit activated his powers. He crouched down as he landed, looking up at the backs of two of the targets. In one moment, he was already upon them. The slicing of flesh echoed throughout the alley. The blade cut through the bone like it was nothing. With one slash, the body of the first victim slumped to the ground and another swift motion fell the second. The other three began to turn around in an instant but it was too late. Rabbit dashed between the three, making instant cuts as he did. In the brief five seconds, the end result was two gangsters split apart, one with his throat slit, one slashed through the stomach and the last completely decapitated. Rabbit calmly stood up and faced his employers, flicking the blade and sheathing it.
"Heh, good work Rabbit. You're gonna make our boss very happy. Y'know, we could use a guy like you. Whaddya say? I'll put a good word in for ya?"
Rabbit shaked his head as he began to walk towards them. "That's not necessary. If you require my work, then make the highest bid." He explained. The man shrugged and began to tap away at the screen attached to his forearm.
"Whatever you say, man..." The gangster sighed. A notification popped up on Rabbit's HUD, indicating his payment was made. The White Rabbit nodded before kicking off from the wall, dashing from one side of the alley to the other before he disappeared over the building. Meanwhile in Marcus's room, the rapid clicks of a keyboard rattled off as one of his screens dinged. "Guess the upgrades worked..."
Appearance: Owen does not cast a physically imposing figure, he stands around average height at five feet and ten inches with a lean slightly athletic frame. His hair is a dark brown shade and at a medium length. A scruffy beard evident on the bottom half of his face and neck. His eyes are green in color, often staring off at his surroundings or stuck in thought. He tends to dress in non eye catching fashions and shades, all part of the goal of blending into crowds when he needs to. He does not carry any weaponry on him or special equipment.
Para Category: Beta, threat level 4.
Powers/Abilities: Owen is technopathic, which grants him control over manmade machinery and crafted metals. He can technokinetically mold, alter and reconstruct these to his will. For example a car could be molded into a robot guardian, crafted and twisted until its been given a humanoid shape then fights in his defense. Or he could strip that same car of its metal sheeting and mold that into a suit of armor for himself or others. One common usage of his power is to strip metals and create a barrier or a walkway. In the past he has ripped guns from the hands of opponents with his mind, then crumbled the firearms like piece of paper. He's also hacked into mechs and turned them to his side. He can interface into computers, cameras and other types of electronics and manipulate them to a degree. Highly protected and encrypted systems give him a lot of trouble. The potential upper limits of his abilities are frightening especially in a world filled to the brim with machines, metal and technology.
The power is not without its limitations or drawbacks though. He is only able to manipulate machinery, metals and technology within his vision and it must be man made. He can not control natural earth occurring metals unless they have been first crafted by human hands. He believes he may one day be able to use his powers to that extent but has been utterly unable to so far. Prolonged usage of the power or at massive capacities tires him. A particularly stressful experimentation of his powers nearly led him to blackout.
Skills:
As a talented engineer even before gaining his powers Owen is very creative and detail oriented. He's a resourceful man with a focused thought process. As well as an intelligent, college educated man with years of experience in a difficult field. It is difficult to catch him off guard.
Owen has taken it upon himself to learn a few forms of martial arts in the name of self defense. While he is not a deadly unarmed combatant he can hold his own in a brawl against less trained opponents.
In his time as a parahuman he's put it upon himself to do whatever it takes to survive. He's ruthless in his ways and actions, doing anything needed to thrive, prosper and evade capture/death. Nothing is out of question when his own status is on the line.
Weaknesses:
Other than his technopathic powers he is entirely human. He bleeds just the same as every other person.
Owen's mental stability is in question due to recent traumatic events, the state of the world an his status as a wanted parahuman. He's much less trusting of people that he once was and is suspicious of others true intentions. He has no qualms with turning his back and fleeing as self preservation registers highly for him. He's had to resort to some worrisome deeds in order to survive.
He's a bit of a loner, he does not make many friends or allies. His lack of trust comes into this very strongly.
He's a known parahuman, having committed several crimes to get by and further himself. The general public may not know his face but the authorities do. While he has done nothing sadistic or inhuman he has been connected to multiple break ins, robberies and hostage takings.
Brief History: Owen was born into a poorer family in the slummier districts of southern California. As an only child raised by a single mother he had an at times, rough childhood. His father was never in the picture and he can't recall a single memory involving the man. His mother, Jocelyn told him his father took off for the east shortly after Owen was born and never heard from again. His mother worked in a factory and did everything she could to give her son a happy life. He repaid his mother's devotion for him by focusing intently on schoolwork. Even though he'd often come home bruised from being frequently bullied. He never had many friends in school, or was ever the most social of children. He'd find his sanity in machinery, a deep fascination with robotics from a young age would serve as an ironic sign of his future self. He finished near the top of his class and was given a scholarship to the prestigious Stanford University where he'd enroll in their engineering program.
The future seemed ever bright to the intelligent Owen. College was much the same as high school, minus the bullying, thankfully. He put his head down and focused strongly on schoolwork until the day he walked out with his degree. Tragedy would strike a few days after his graduation as his mother was killed in a mugging. The event had a profound effect on the wide eyed Owen, affecting him deeply for months. He'd push himself forward and get a job at AeroVironment, a robotics company which manufactured unmanned robotics for several of the world's militaries. Owen would play a strong hand in the progress and development of multiple projects, earning himself a reputation within the company and within the field. He'd move on from the company in 2042, taking a higher paid position across the country in Marlon in 2042 for the Lorne Corporation's robotic's division.
His work with Lorne would earn him more accolades, though being employed by such a massive company in a cutthroat city would change him. Still the job was good and filled his wants in life, he'd even fall in love with a fellow employee, Bethany Robinson who he'd maintain a romantic relationship with for a few years up until the catastrophic event at the Tower. Owen was struck by the wave of energy, finding himself embedded with strange powers. His experimentation with his newfound abilities both intrigued and frightened him. He did not seek out to become a hero or cause trouble, instead he continued to try to live his normal life and hide his technopathicness. Bethany never approved of the powers, they frightened her deeply. It would be the cause of several fights between the two.
After one rough confrontation between the two Owen angrily lashed out and released his powers. He shifted the inside of his apartment, molding and shaking every piece of machinery in it. Windows shattered and the door launched off the hinges as the enraged Owen was not able to control his still newfound abilities. Bethany ran away terrified, tears streaming down her face as crooked pieces of metal jutted from the walls, floor and ceiling. As Owen ran after her, trying to get her back the police were called and he had to flee. He lost his job at Lorne Corporation and found himself wanted by the authorities. Since then Owen has has had to live a much different life, moving from place to place constantly. He's begun to dip into using his powers, seeing how far he can take them, how powerful he can become. All while remaining angry at the world.
Plain black and white sneakers clicked against the sidewalk as Owen walked calmly through the bustling streets of Marlon. One of his hands moved towards his head, adjusting his baseball cap as he continued his silent stride, careful to avoid walking into any passerbys. The moon sat high in the sky as the megacity's lights flooded the skyline. It was never truly dark anywhere in the bustling Marlon. Traffic blared by on the streets, a horn honking loudly at a near collision between two cars. The parahuman gave a short glance at the scene as he continued his night time stride. The bus stop was in sight, not even a block away. A smile of relief came to his face as he was a few minutes early. He'd be able to relax then take a ride through the streets, into a safer part of the megacity. He picked up his pace slightly, side stepping two conversing denizens smoking cigarettes leisurely.
Owen tucked his hands into his sweatshirt's pockets, a cool fall breeze tapping against his exposed hands before he tucked them away. He could hear the sound of a guitar beginning strummed nearby as a street musician played an old rock song. The man's fingers danced across the frets as he picked up the pace, a small crowd having gathered around him to watch. An open instrument case sat by him where some of the audience had placed dollars before continuing to go about their day. The parahuman narrowed his eyes as he tried to recall the song, it might have been an old tune by the Eagles. The song struck a tone inside the wanted super powered man. It caused him to think of better days. He took a moment to watch and listen as he removed two dollars from his pocket. Then he dropped them wordlessly into the case before continuing on his way. The musician giving a thankful smile and nod as Owen turned back towards the bus stop.
As he emerged from the small crowd he unwittingly locked eyes with a person standing to the side. Then he felt his stride pick up slightly as he realized it was a policeman. The officer moved as the two met gazes, recognizing Owen from the profile on the police database as well as the occasional plastered wanted screens around the city. The man spoke out a few words as Owen kept the walk, so very close the bus stop. He felt a nervous chill go down his spine as he understood the officer's words.
"Hey you, slow down. Come here for just one second!" The words caused the parahuman to blink, and against his better judgement he stopped in his stride. He could've booked it and dashed into the crowd, gotten lost in the city's lights and continue his vigilante escapade.
"Can I help you officer?" Owen calmly replied as he turned, hands coming out of his pockets. He could feel his heart rate rising slowly as the officer took another step towards him.
"I know you. You're that metal bending para." The policeman said forcefully, taking another step closer.
"You're mistaken, I'm not one of those freaks." Owen said, reacting with a false confusion and disgust. It did not stop the officer as one of the man's hands went towards his hip, resting momentarily on his sidearm.
"No I'm sure of it. You've done a lot of bad things, your face is in our parahuman database. I'm gonna have to ask you to come with me." The officer replied as his other hand went for his handcuffs. Owen began to raise his hands upwards.
"No, no I'm not. You're wrong. This is all a big misunderstanding, I don't know what you're talking about." Owen shot back, his voice evident with nervousness. It was at that moment he took notice of a metallic mailbox on the sidewalk, the insignia of the post office evident on it.
"Come with me quietly. I don't want this to escalate." The officer added, still not having drawn his pistol. The man was hoping for a diplomatic, peaceful situation. Sadly, no such thing would occur. He'd never let himself be captured. He'd heard horror stories of the parahumans that had been taken away and caged.
The mailbox shook forcefully, lifting off the ground and drawing the immediate attention of the policeman and all the surrounding pedestrians. The gun came out of the officer's holster, clenched in his hand, finger on the trigger and pointed at Owen. The metallic mailbox launched towards the man, hurling through the air as it slammed into his side and sending him to the hard concrete ground. A bullet shot off with a scream, a reaction shot that hit nothing but the air. The scene had exploded into chaos within a split second. Mail spewed across the sidewalk as the mailbox skidded to a halt, released from Owen's control. The sound of metal screeching against pavement only drew more eyes to the scene. The pistol had also slide across the floor before it levitated upwards, floating in front of the parahuman in his control.
"Please, don't. Please." The downed man begged as the parahuman looked down at him, several of his ribs cracked from the collision with the mailbox. Owen breathed heavily, briefly considering putting a bullet between the man's eyes so that he could not radio to the others. The tension hung in the air heavily.
Then the parahuman acted with the eyes of the crowd upon him. He ripped the police radio from the man's belt, then reduced it to pieces, along with the gun. Both fell apart like a puzzle losing its pieces, leaving a crumbled mess of formerly assembled pieces on the sidewalk. He'd shown mercy and solved the momentary issue of more authorities coming for his capture. But they would arrive soon regardless, he had to move. Then Owen ran, sprinting as fast he could down an alleyway. A few moments later the crowd followed, finding a dark alley and a bent fence in which the parahuman had manipulated then scaled over.
I apologise for not being as active as I should have been. My work schedule has been pretty hectic but it will be calming down shortly (which is good and bad).