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WIP: Adrian Knox



Name:
Adrian Knox


Nickname/Alias:
Artillery


Gender:
Male


Age:
23


Appearance:

  • Height: 6'0

  • Weight: 140lb

  • Build: Lean

  • Hair Colour: Black, partially bleached fringe.

  • Eye Colour: Gray

  • General Attire: Colourless, contrasting clothing, often minimalist in design and tight-fitting. He prefers jackets to jumpers, and boots to trainers.



Metahuman Abilities:
Adrian Knox finds himself in possession of the ability to manipulate and create matter in order to materialize any (hand-held) weapon that exists, as long as Adrian is able to fully visualize it, and the weapon exists. The simpler the weapon, the easier he finds it to create, but with practice, he will be able to materialize larger and more complex weaponry. So far he has only created small knives and simple machetes.


Skills and Talents:

Biography:
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WIP: Minnie Ripper



Name:
Minerva Eliza Ripper


Nickname/Alias:

Gender:
Female


Age:
20


Appearance:

  • Height: 5'8"

  • Weight: 130lb

  • Build: Toned

  • Hair Colour: Black, with blue highlights.

  • Eye Colour: Dark Brown

  • General Attire:



Metahuman Abilities:
Minnie possesses an extraordinary compound within her blood that bonds at the molecular level with the adrenaline pumped into her veins from her adrenal glands. The enhanced adrenaline affords her a remarkable resistance - more accurately, ignorance - to pain and injury, extending even to a point where her body temporarily adapts to allow her to continue and push through whatever adversity she's facing without coming to a fatal end.

After she escapes the situation, the compound breaks down and mixes with the platelets and fibrin to enhance the clotting and scabbing process, and help to make her body more receptive to medical and healing attention.

Minnie doesn't heal herself any faster than a normal person - but her body survives with great efficiency.


Skills and Talents:
Due to the situations she can walk out of by way of her natural abilities, Minnie has expanded her knowledge of medicine, and is pretty handy with basic first aid, able to keep people going after injury. She's also good at improvised weaponry, since in a fight, she can count on attrition to win rather than superior hardware or technical skill, so she doesn't see any formal combat training as necessary.


Biography:
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Cassie Striver; Quintain



Name:
Cassandra Striver


Nickname/Alias:
'Cass'; 'Cassie'; 'Quintain'


Gender:
Female


Age:
19


Appearance:

  • Height: 5'8

  • Weight: 120lb

  • Build: Slim

  • Hair Colour: Dyed a purple/black fade; naturally brown. Wears a blonde wig cut short and messy as Quintain.

  • Eye Colour: Green. Amber coloured contacts as Quintain.

  • General Attire: Dark, simple clothing, often incorperating short dresses or long tops combined with shorts, leggings, jackets, and accessorizing with boots and scarves.

  • Costume: Lightweight armour sleeveless vest and trousers, sprayed white, with shin-high boots, and a large coat over the top of it all, coloured white with red accents, tapering off into a long tail that curves to the side around her legs.



Metahuman Abilities:
Cassie has the ability to manipulate the flow of time around her, pushing herself into a self-dubbed 'Focus State', slowing down the world but not herself, and allowing her prescience of actions, movements, and events a few seconds into the future.

This Focus State allows her to hit any manner of targets with extreme ease, move faster than the average person otherwise can, avoid and counter incoming strikes, and extrapolate from her prescience to predict future events - but only by minutes or hours, rather than days or weeks.

Currently, Cassie can only bring on this 'Focus State' with deep concentration, rhythmic breathing, and forcing an intense calm upon herself, upon which the state is granted for mere moments, allowing her to make the single perfect shots she currently uses her power for.


Skills and Talents:
Patience: As a necessity of her 'occupation', Cassie has learnt great patience, and can remain waiting, expecting, or even outlasting any number of situations and opportunities. She can keep herself for hours upon hours on end, awaiting her perfect moment.

Tolerance: Naturally, Cassie has a great tolerance for the climate around her, whether emotional, mental, or meteorological. This natural tolerance has only been trained by her current 'employment', and she is able to remain in awkward positions, cold weather, or under heavy mental or emotional duress, for extended periods of time without deep wounding on any level, or any visible signs of distress or injury.

Emotional Control: As a prerequisite of her ability, Cassie has learnt to successfully exert immense control over her own emotional state, removing the risk of passion or distress to her ability to analyse her surroundings, make decisions, and function under pressure. However, she doesn't allow this to affect her personal relationships when she can - namely, not wanting to alienate her sister from her. Cassie can act normally, even wearing her heart on her sleeve - but when she needs to, she can become impassioned and completely calm.


Equipment:

Barret XM109 High-Powered Sniper Rifle.
Lightweight Armour Sleeveless Vest, white.
Lightweight Armour Trousers, white.
Lightweight Armour Boots, black.
Large Hooded Coat with tapering tail that curves around legs, white with red accents.
Wig, short/messy cut, white-blonde.
Coloured Contact Lenses, amber.
Cheap disposable 'burner' phone, replaced weekly, only able to receive incoming messages.

All courtesy of Roman Locke, from the Ares Corporation.


Biography:
Cassie's childhood was subdued, at best. She had a loving mother, a working father, her younger sister - Jo - and attentive grandparents. She had medical problems, anxiety and panic attacks, but she got medication and they dulled the attacks, even if they didn't get rid of them. She went through school, suffering grade losses after her grandparents passed and eventually dropping out after high school and picking up an easy retail job to pay rent to her parents. Her sister was far more promising, anyway, Cassie was happy, and, somewhere between leaving school and getting hired, Cassie had learnt that her panic attacks - that had never gone away - weren't a result of anxiety, or imbalanced hormones, or a deformity or deficiency in the brain. They were the manifestation of a strange ability, and Cassie slowly began to recognize herself as Metahuman. And that felt good to know when Jo brought home her school reports.

Shortly after Cassie's 18th birthday, her family - mother, father, sister, and Cassie herself - were gathered in the kitchen. Not for any particular reason, she often reminisced - just one of those moments where the destinations and objectives of multiple people suddenly collide on common ground. They were chatting, and getting in each others way, and teasing, and then Cassie's father slipped and spilled the kettle he'd been holding, boiling water splashing down the length of Jo's arm. She screamed, and Cassie suddenly felt one of her attacks coming on, far more rapid than anything before. The world slowed but Cassie was in complete control of herself, and in slow-motion she watched the metal of the kettle, of the knives, of the saucepans on the hob, rattle and lift and then tear itself into pieces and fly toward Jo before flinging itself in an outward circle. She dodged the metal, moving faster than it somehow. Her parents were not so lucky. The world caught back up to speed. Blood was everywhere.

After that, the next two years of Cassie's life became very selfless. All the money she had saved, all the money her parents had left them, all the money she could get together by selling everything she could get a price for - it all went toward Jo's school fund. She'd been pulled out of her school, but Cassie had found a good boarding school for her, somewhere she wouldn't waste her smarts. But, slowly and surely, Cassie's funds dried up. First her savings, especially after she got fired for tardiness and absence. Then her inheritance, her parents not well-off in the first place. Then the money from the pawn shop. The school would have sent letters, but Cassie had no home to deliver to. Jo was pulled from the school, and Cassie sunk into despair. She couldn't keep them both alive on the streets.

And that was when she met Roman Locke. He knew the real reason behind her parent's deaths. He knew the real reason behind Cassie's early medication. He knew her ability, and he knew Jo's. He wanted both.

Locke offered Jo a home, food, and an education far surpassing anything Cassie could ever have hoped to give her with the school, and offered Cassie a home and food herself. He asked one thing of her - be his hitman. She'd been practicing her ability, and could bring on the slow-down, the now-dubbed 'Focus State', for mere moments. She knew she could make the shots he wanted her to take, and so did he.

She agreed. She acts as Quintain now, disguise and costume in place, high-powered rifle placed dutifully in her hands. She gets the target and makes the shot - and her sister stays alive for one more day.
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ATERRA; Terra



Name:
ATERRA-Proto-001 (All-Terrain Extreme Resistance Resolution Adjudicator)


Nickname/Alias:
N/A


Gender:
Female


Age:
N/A


Appearance:

  • Height: 5'0"

  • Weight:110lb

  • Build: N/A

  • Hair Colour: N/A

  • Eye Colour: N/A

  • General Attire: N/A



Metahuman Abilities:
Terra has been built with the express purpose of aiding her to be a skilled and efficient weapon of war. As such, she possesses many qualities that help her with her 'job':

Extreme Durability - at least on/with those parts of her that received armour installations before her break-out.

Extreme Combat Aptitude - for solo combat against one or many opponents ,though little ability to perform as part of a team as she was not designed for squad-based excursions.

Extreme Stamina - due to her mechanical body, which does not suffer the same weaknesses as an organic body.

Extreme Processing Ability - Able to 'see' 360 degrees in all 3 dimensions at all time due to her particular method of 'seeing' - she emits a subsonic pulse silently and frequently, which feeds information back to her at all times, allowing her extreme processing of external stimuli to form an accurate image of the world around her millisecond to millisecond (although her 'vision' is still blocked by walls etc. and her upwards/downwards 'sight' is limited to ten metres or so when not already blocked off).

Weaponisation - Her right hand has been replaced by a massive cleaver-like blade, while her left is larger than the average person's, has sharp tips for slicing and/or piercing, and is stronger and more dexterous. She has the capacity for greater upgrades, should she come into contact with someone capable of working with her mechanics.


Skills and Talents:
N/A


Biography:
Alice Freemantle did not begin life as a half-mechanic monstrosity created for the express purpose of massacre under the PC term 'conflict resolution'. She began life as a baby like many others, born to her mother, Janet Freemantle, and her father, Arthur Freemantle, and was considered beautiful. She grew up, went through school. Her father, a military man, molded her into the forces, despite the disagreement on her mother's part. Alice was happy to follow her father's footsteps, eager to please him. She performed well, and got into infantry. She went on tour. She was assigned a squadron, and performed a few covert operations, seizing weapons and other illegal materials, as well as terminating dangerous targets. She received medals, and then retired, spending time with her aging parents.

Then her father was killed, and his death was labelled a terrorist assassination against a high-profile target with an illustrious military career. Alice came out of retirement, leaving her mother, now ill from grief, to seek revenge. She was given her own squad again, given information, informed of suspects and target locations, possible methods and motives. She was sent in, her team inserted into a "high-risk" danger zone, supposedly crawling with enemy insurgents. They were given cover identities, backup stories. Facial makeovers. Alice's mother died during the undercover period, but she never knew.

What she did know was that one night, her squad came across information that turned the tide of the assignment. It had been stagnating, as operations occasionally do, and leads had been scarce; but an informant suddenly came forward, telling them where her father's killer would be. When they would be there. How many men they would have with them. It was a-go. A plan was made. The squad was armed. Members given tasks and roles to play. It was all coming to a head.

On the journey over, their vehicle was hit by an ambush. These were no taliban RPGs; they were US-Army LAW launchers, Javelin strikers; these were not taliban shooters either. Too precise, too planned; snipers picking off those of Alice's squad who survived the initial bombardment of their Humvee with military-trained precision, using dragunov rifles that wouldn't be traced back to US soil. Alice was left barely alive, and taken in.

A few years passed. What was left of Alice after the ambush - scarred and burnt flesh - was healed, made anew. And then they went to work. Parts were surgically removed to be replaced with 'better', more 'efficient' machinery suited to the task. Her insides were stripped to make way for circuity and technology that had been developed in secret over the last decade. Alice's mind was burnt out, reducing her to a child once again, ready to start anew with a new 'father', a new role model, who had new lessons and teachings to pass on. Alice became ATECCRA, a war-machine built to destroy enemy settlements in minutes, win battles in hours, and end wars in days. A secret weapon. She was brought online, and she began her new life.

And she was terrified. Streams of information addled her newborn brain, which was incapable of sorting the massive influx of data being fed to it near-constantly. The fear initiated Fight or Flight, and Alice had never been one to run - and ATECCRA didn't have anywhere to go. She lashed out, slaying all those who tried to contain her and striking down the soldiers that arrived as backup. When she came to a dead end, her new-found strength gave her another option, and eventually she made it out of the complex into the sewers, escaping into the Nevada Desert. She travelled, her new legs moving her in bounds, and it took only a few days to reach the edge of the sand and the dry heat. She found civilization, and discovered that she was being tracked - how, she didn't know, but she didn't know much of anything. She escaped again, all record of her covered up by the government, and went back underground.

She has been there since. Occasionally she surfaces, and occasionally special forces delve into her hiding place, the vast underground routes that connect most of the continent secretly. She has yet to find a friendly face. She has yet to learn anything of the world other than hate and fear. But she is still open to companionship.
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Ichiyo Okazaki; Akuma



Name:
Ichiyo Okazaki


Nickname/Alias:
Akuma


Gender:
Male


Age:
28


Appearance:

  • Height: 6'0

  • Weight: 130lb

  • Build: Athletic

  • Hair Colour: Black

  • Eye Colour: Green

  • General Attire: Tailored Suits and Shoes



Metahuman Abilities:
N/A


Skills and Talents:
Akuma's mastery of the sword and the handling of it is quite simply unparalleled. His handiwork with his blade is infamous among worldwide criminal organizations for its efficiency and brutality in equal measure. Akuma does not wield a blade; the blade is an extension of his self, and he dances with the metal, playing an unstoppable harbinger of Death.

Akuma's talents also lie in stealth. His ability to move without being seen or heard is whispered as if a ghost story, and it seems that Akuma becomes darkness itself, appearing to become invisible and inaudible. He has no footstep, casts no shadow. It is said that should Akuma be hunting you, you will only be aware of his presence after he has already killed you.


Biography:
Born into the Yamaguchi-gumi Yakuza in Tokyo, Ichiyo spent many years scrapping and sparring and learning how to fight, how not to show pain to your opponent, how to show mercy but offer none. He was an adolescent prodigy, and quickly became the Yamaguchi syndicate's most notorious hitman, able to assassinate even the most secure of targets - his infamy reaching its peak as he managed to infiltrate the personal fortress of a rival Yakuza Oyabun, forcing him to have a dishonourable death by beheading him, and then displaying the Family Boss' head on his sword outside, without any guard seeing or hearing him come or go.

Naturally, a hitman if his caliber was both a valued commodity and a mortal enemy. Offers were made to buy his loyalty but he refused them all, and eventually a squad of assassins was sent to murder both Ichiyo and his family head instead. He learned of the hit and rushed to his Oyabun's side - but too late. They had already murdered him, slitting his throat and leaving the body to rot. Ichiyo flew into rage and grief as the assassins sprang from the shadows to ambush him, and he murdered them with such ferocity and speed that he barely knew of his actions. In the fray he lost his sword, and in his panic at the mutilation of those who had killed his Yakuza family's father, fled far.

Days later Ichiyo answered a summons. He was seized immediately and cast in stocks, brought before the first leiutenant, now boss, and his crimes were explained - the Oyabun had been murdered, bodies beating the sigil of the Yamaguchi-gumi family found slain around him, guards seemingly cut down in their duty - and the damning evidence of Ichiyo's sword at the scene, covered in blood. There was no trial. Ichiyo was found guilty, and sentenced. He was to be put to death by immolation.

Ichiyo did not protest. Instead, he willingly sat, calmly assuming a traditional meditative position as the yakuza thugs splashed him with gasoline and threw a match at him. He burnt for seven minutes without a single movement or sound, and then he was extinguished and his throat was slit. Ichiyo's body was dumped and left for dead.

Somehow, Ichiyo survived, and retreated into the nearby storm drains. Whether from rage, a pure desire for vengeance, or sheer force of will, he refused to let go of his hold on life, and slowly treated himself, gauzing his burns, bandaging his throat. His skin slowly crawled back over his wounds leavings scars and welts in its wake, and Ichiyo became a canvas of disfigured skin, blind in one eye, hair gone, and a thick welt across his neck where it had been slashed. He treated himself, and then began to prepare himself.

He discovered that the lieutenant who'd judged him and ordered his execution had also orchestrated the hit on the Yakuza boss, in a bid to take over and inherit the wealth and power that the Oyabun had held for himself. The assassins were a neutral party, hired to kill the boss and his right-hand man, Ichiyo - only they failed in the latter part of their task. Panic had forced the lieutenant's hand and hatched a devilish solution - the framing of Ichiyo, and the execution that would be bound to follow. Only that failed as well, and now Ichiyo had risen anew, ferocious, remorseless, and no longer bound by a code of honour or of loyalty. He carved himself a mask in the visage of a traditional Japanese demon, and took up the moniker 'Akuma' ('Demon'), and after careful planning, returned to slaughter the lieutenant-now-boss and his men, employing both physical and psychological tactics to create an impenetrable atmosphere of terror and blind panic before allowing the guilty death by his sword.

After that, Ichiyo left Tokyo and Japan, and left 'Ichiyo' as a man behind with them. Now, Akuma is a hired hitman with no loyalty other than payment and no honour other than completing a job. He works for mafia and thugs alike, his hits always ruthless, always terror-inducing, and always brutally violent. He has no public identity, no psuedonym, no real name. He is Akuma, and he carries the demon's wrath.
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[center][b][i] Dani Ketch; Ghost Rider[/b][/i][/center]

----



Name:
Danielle 'Dani' Rosa Ketch


Alias:
Ghost Rider


Role:
Titan, Young Avengers


Brief Bio:
Born on Halloween, 1997, Danielle was ushered into the waiting arms of her mother and father, Jonathan and Roxanne Ketch. They were not a rich family, and this was reflected in their small house, and small town. Dani's father earned money as a tradesman, carpentering and building, while doing various handyman tasks on the side for extra income, while her mother tutored after-school. The community of the town, while minimal, was strong, and strengthened by the religion that ran through the core of the residents. Dani's parents were loving, but they were strict, and at times overbearing with their beliefs - and while Dani initially accepted their teachings, soaking them up with the peculiar sponge-like quality only a child's mind possesses, eventually she came to form her own opinions, and then begin to rebel, as teenagers are wont to do.

She began running away, rebelling against the confines of the small town she lived in. Days at a time, her parents distraught with worry, but always being found, or coming back out of regret, homesickness, or hunger. At the same time, her rebellion against her parent's religion found her studying dusty books of the occult and the evil, poring over the supposed dark energies and black hearts of the world. Eventually she stumbled across a great dark tome, musty and emanating an unsettling aura, sitting innocuously on a bookshelf she'd trailed her fingers across the spines of multiple times. It seemed to shudder in her hands as she pulled it out, leather bindings scraping across wood, and the sounds of the pages being leafed through seeming to form whispers in her head. She hid this tome and took it home. She ran away again that night, taking it with her.

She went further than she ever had, deep into the woods on the far west side of the town. Hear, the pages whispered louder and the letters and markings that adorned them seemed to swim beneath her eyes in the darkness. In the center of the tome lay a great inked circle, with scribbles and notes - made quite differently from the rest of the book - frantically dotted around the edges, all seeming to instruct the reader on the performance of some manner of ritual. Reading further, Dani found this ritual supposedly summoned the Devil himself to strike a single deal with the mortal who had brought him forth. Dani went home that night too.

She waited a few days, playing nice with her parents and soothing their worries, her apparent new-found peace assuaging their concern, and on a dark night, they left her at home while they went to dinner. She took her opportunity, taking the tome out from its hiding place and following the instructions she'd found therein precisely. And then Mephisto appeared before her.

He looked into her and saw her desire to leave the town behind her, saw her desire to escape permanently, saw her inability to do so as she was. He offered her the power to do so, on the condition that after her death, she would serve him. Dani accepted, and held out her hand to shake Mephisto's, sealing the pact utterly. As their palms touched and fingers grasped, she felt a great surge rush from Mephisto and into the core of her soul. Mephisto had bound her soul with the demon Zarathos, and to fulfill his end of the deal, made her a Ghost Rider - she transformed immediately, Zarathos overtaking her, her skull bursting aflame. She conjured a Hell-horse, and they rode out of town, Mephisto ensuring she was spotted by the community and her parents.

Now, Dani cannot return home, as she has been branded a demon. Zarathos remains bound to her soul, and they battle for control over the Ghost Rider entity inside her. In the presence of evil under the moon, she transforms, doing the Lord's - and Mephisto's - work by damning them to Hell. Mephisto filled his end of the bargain, however much irony he layered on top - and now Dani dreads the day she will fulfill hers.

She has sought out SHIELD, relinquishing her secret identity in exchange for containment and training, fearing the power of Zarathos and Ghost Rider, and scared of the hold they have over her.


Abilities:
As a mortal, Dani has no powers beyond an exceptional tolerance for physical trauma, as a result of Zarathos' refusal to die with its host, lending her strength to help their mutual survival. However, after night has fallen and in the presence of evil, Zarathos' power overtakes her, and Dani transforms into Ghost Rider, gaining several more powers:

Altered Appearance: Dani sheds her human form and takes on that of Ghost Rider, a vicious skeleton burning with Hellfire, most prominently at the hands and wreathing her skull. Her clothes change too, becoming a leather jacket with spiked shoulders, black jeans, spiked black boots, and a leather belt that bears the sigil of Mephisto.

Hellfire: As Ghost Rider, Dani has the ability to conjure Hellfire, throwing explosive balls of it from her hands, ejecting streams of it from her mouth, or firing it from projectile weapons she may seize while transformed. She also spreads it across objects she takes as her own, changing them into tools and weapons to aid her culling the evil. Hellfire does little physical damage, singing skin, but deeply burns the soul. It only affects evil, and will not harm innocents. Vehicles infused with Hellfire travel and speeds not usually possible by the non-infused counterpart, and are often capable of feats such as riding up walls and making great leaps.

Physical Enhancement: As a result of being an agent of forces both Divine and Demonic, as well as being infused with the demonic power of Zarathos, Ghost Rider is incredibly durable and incredibly strong. Conventional weaponry does very little damage to Ghost Rider, and she is capable of lifting and throwing cars. Ghost Rider also possesses incredibly sharpened reflexes, aiding her fighting and riding.

The Penance Stare: The single most infamous and feared ability of any Ghost Rider, past, present, or future, the Penance Stare is a power of great and terrible magnitudes. By locking eye contact with her victim, and deeply focusing, Ghost Rider can force her victim to relive all the suffering they inflicted upon others, etching their pain into the very core of her victim's soul. For obvious reasons, the effectiveness of this ability depends on the victim, and also requires the victim to indeed possess a soul.


Personality:
Fearful of her power, Dani is cautious above most other things. While she is aware of the parameters that must be met before a transformation can be elicited, she is cynical enough to believe the world to be full of the evil that brings Ghost Rider forth, and therefore does much to avoid public outings, especially after dark. She spends most nights in her cell, or wandering the YA halls, sleeping little in order to avoid the dreams that Zarathos visits upon her, always including fire and terrible muttering from a voice slightly behind her ear.

Despite her 'condition', or perhaps because of it, Dani still enjoys researching into and reading about occult practices and the darker sides of the magic that she now knows to be real. She's also interested in mythology and religious texts, as she views it as history rather than legend after her encounter with Mephisto- though she's not religious herself. She also enjoys writing and sketching, filling massive sheets of paper and entire notepads with words and drawings of genius and nonsense, often using it to get Zarathos' whispers out of her in almost cathartic release. She dislikes naivety, since it was that quality that afforded her her curse, and also has little patience for those with closed minds or mocking standpoints, wasting no time on people who would rather make fun of beliefs and interests than discuss opposing views. Ghost Rider's purpose also seems to have splintered into her mortal identity as well, as she has a deep and passionate hatred of those who would harm others, no matter how small or grand the offense. She fears Ghost Rider and what she is capable of, but is trying to accept that the entity's actions are more often that not benevolent, if vicious. She know that with control, she will stand as a formidable guardian of the righteous and pure-hearted against those that would seek to corrupt the world.


Appearance:
On her run up to 19, Dani stands at 5 foot 10, although this elevates to 6 feet when she transforms. Her hair is short and messily cut, a shade of mousey brown, and she has gray eyes. Her face is angular and while 'pretty', it's often for filling a niche or label such as 'hipster' or 'pixie', rather than being generically attractive. She's slender without muscle, looking wiry with bones jutting forth from beneath the skin in places - something she feels fitting in light of recent events. She has no marks or tattoos, apart from ear piercings, but the back of her right hand - the hand she sealed her deal with - is branded with Mephisto's sigil, which is also present on Ghost Rider's belt when she transforms, though it remains etched onto the skeletal hand, the brand being that deep.


Affliation:
While being contained under her own wishes by SHIELD, she is receiving training and tutoring to control her transformations, and herself while transformed, in an attempt to join the Young Avengers. She is trying to strike up friendships with a few of the current team members - Wiccan, for she hopes his powers stem from the same occult magic hers do, and they can learn more together; Hulkling, for she hopes he can aid her in controlling the transformation aspect of her powers; Scott Pilgrim, as he seems to have a good heart that could help Dani conquer the dark lurking in hers.

She also receives visits from Nick Fury, who oversees her containment and training, as well as Doctor Strange, who sees that the magic required on her cell holds, and mentors her in controlling the occult powers that fuel Ghost Rider.


Other:

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WIP; Shriek



Name:
Pandora 'Pan'


Nickname/Alias:
Shriek


Gender:
Female


Age:
19


Appearance:

  • Height: 5'11

  • Weight: 120lb

  • Build: Tall and slim.

  • Hair Colour: Blonde; Dyed an iridescent blue.

  • Eye Colour: Green

  • General Attire: Boots, jackets, flat peak caps, patterned leggings.



Metahuman Abilities:
Soundwave Manipulation


Skills and Talents:

Biography:

Other:
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Roman Black; Double-Down; Echo



Name:
Roman Black


Nickname/Alias:
Double-Down; Echo


Gender:
Male


Age:
20


Appearance:

  • Height: 5'10

  • Weight: 130lb

  • Build: Lanky

  • Hair Colour: Jet Black

  • Eye Colour: Blue-Gray

  • General Attire: Black or denim jeans, loose tops, trainers, baseball jackets or denim/sheepwool jackets.



Metahuman Abilities:
Self-Duplication - Roman has the ability to produce a clone of himself, identical in form, mentality, and skill to the original, who simply steps away from Roman's body. This clone - Roman2- can learn, act, think, and talk independently of Roman1, but can be reabsorbed at will, along with all the memories, experiences, and skills had and learnt by the clone. Roman has taken advantage of this ability to 'double-time' his learning to artificially boost his skills in several pointless talents and a few useful ones. The clone is a complete mirror image of Roman, from his hair parting to the designs on his clothing to even Roman's Situs Invertus. While it doesn't affect either in action, it can be used to tell them apart if you look close enough.

Reabsorbing a healthy clone also pushes the original body further toward it's natural form, healing injuries somewhat and pushing off illnesses a little faster. However, an injured Roman cannot release and immediately reabsorb his clone to heal himself, as the clone will share any injuries with the original Roman.

Roman can also clone any objects he's holding, said objects being held by Roman2 as he emerges, provided they aren't too large or too complicated. However, these objects fade and crumble out of existance if they leave the possession of Roman2, as they cannot be sustained outside of either of the Romans.

As a whole being, Roman also enjoys slightly enhanced strength and stamina, though not to a superhuman degree. He also has the presence of two minds, affording him a very strong sense of self, heavy amounts of mental willpower and fortitude, and sometimes an utter, undeniable confidence in his decisions.


Skills and Talents:
Using his 'double-time' learning, Roman has learnt considerable skill in the following: Card throwing; Billiards; Self-Defense; Parkour; Cooking.


Biography:
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Roman Sionis; Black Mask



Name:
Roman Sionis


Alias:
Black Mask


Role:
Villain; Potential Mentor


Brief Bio:
His father an industrialist and the head of Sionis Industries, his mother a retail expert and head of Janus Cosmetics, Roman grew up rich but neglected. His parents dragged him to the high-class parties they attended for face only, forcing him to befriend the children of the people they loathed, most notably Bruce Wayne of the Wayne Family. His parents hated their peers, however, and Roman grew to resent his parents for their superficial nature, and hate the masks they wore in public. Late in Roman's adolescence, he inherited Sionis Industries, Janus Cosmetics, and the accompanying fortunes when his parents died in a mysterious fire that broke out at their manor and razed the property to the ground. Sionis quickly sunk his funds into booze, drugs, hookers and gambling, plummeting the companies into the ground and allowing Wayne Industries to make an easy and company-saving buyout, backed by Bruce Wayne. Driven mad by the loss of his legacy, Roman turned his hatred and rage onto the man who had saved his family's companies from the brink of oblivion, and carved a mask from the ebony wood of his father's coffin, wearing it to disguise himself as he targeted Wayne Industries, sabotaging factories and murdering employees. Batman intervened, and in the ensuing battle a raging inferno broke out, and eventually seared Sionis' mask permanently to his face. He took on his moniker of Black Mask completely, and would soon become one of Gotham's most ruthless, vicious, and sadistic crime lords, commanding a gang known as the False Face Society.

Black Mask's first rise to power came about after one of Batman's broader attempts to fight organized crime in Gotham City. After the fall of the Falcone and Maroni Empires, gang wars erupted to seize the territory and assets suddenly available. Batman enlisted Orpheus, a costumed gang leader, who worked with a teen fledgling hero named Spoiler, to help him end unrest in Gotham. Black Mask found and murdered Orpheus, assuming his identity, and then using his persuasive talents to glean vital information about Batman's plans from Spoiler, before betraying and torturing her. Sionis, acting as Orpheus, followed the plans, rallying all the factions into a single united force behind him, before revealing his true identity as Black Mask, murdering Spoiler, and initiating a spree of carnage that ravaged Gotham, and allowed Black Mask to seize undisputed and complete control of its criminal underworld.

Months after, however, Black Mask found his empire being explicitly targeted by both Batman and the newly returned Red Hood. He was approached by Deathstroke offering an invitation into The Society, and he accepted. Several hitmen were sent to dispatch Batman and Red Hood, but were ultimately vanquished, preventing The Society from forming a foothold in Gotham, and plunging Black Mask's criminal operations into disrepair. Desperate to claw back his now tenuous grip on the power he used to hold, Black Mask threatened Catwoman and her loved ones, calling her out. Catwoman defeated him, and he was shipped to Arkham.

Shortly after, he escaped in a massive orchestrated hit, blowing up Arkham and drugging some of its more eminent inmates with an activated poison. He was acknowledged as the leader and escaped, preparing for his re-entrance back into Gotham by destroying the reigns of Two-Face and Penguin that had risen in his absence, and soon we was Gotham's singular Crime Lord once again. His empire came under fire from the National Guard, and with Sionis' forces weak, Batman chose to strike, defeating Black Mask again and dismantling his control, sending him to Blackgate while Arkham was rebuilt.

He remains there now, but his False Face Society has not disbanded completely. There are still loyal followers, and Black Mask always has cogs in motion to return to his rightful place as ruler of Gotham.


Abilities:
While Black Mask has no metahuman abilities, he is highly skilled in several areas which he uses to his advantage as a crime boss of Gotham:

Criminal Mastermind: He is arguably the greatest criminal strategist and organizer in all of Gotham, having taken complete control of the entire Gotham underworld on at least two occasions.

Torture Master: Perhaps his most defining skill is his mastery in both physical and psychological torture, which he often uses to extract information or to punish his enemies - or even just for sadistic fun.

Hand to Hand Combatant: His fighting skills are considerable and his technique is varied and does not stray away from 'dirty' fighting. While not on par with masters like Batman, he's still a competent opponent.

Marksman: He is an excellent marksman who is often successful in hitting his targets. He is experienced with several forms of weaponry, most notably handguns, RPG's, and assault rifles.


Personality:
Mildy psychopathic, Roman Sionis has an obssessive personality and narcissistic tendencies. He is fixated on the concept of masks, both physically and metaphorically, and he is feared in the criminal world for his infamous viciousness, ruthlessness, and brutality. Sionis is intensely sadistic, inflicting the most degraded of both physical and psychological tortures on his enemies, but he hides a cunning and strategic mind, often showing a criminal genius which is surely the source of his previous rises to great power in Gotham. He is short-tempered and often lashes out angrily on his thugs, throwing punches to relieve anger.


Appearance:
Sionis' mask is no longer so; after the fire, the ebony was seared to his skin and the face beneath scarred. Roman Sionis is Black Mask, and the skull mask is his face. He stands at 6 feet and 1 inch, weighing in at 195 pounds. His hair is burnt off beneath the mask, but his eyes still see, irises black, like true windows to who Sionis has become. He wears expensive, tailored suits, occasionally donning long designer coats, and forgoes any combat armour or helpful gear, avoiding the outlandish costumes that many of his rival villains and heroic foes take up.


Affliation:
While not currently mentoring anyone, Black Mask is a respected crime boss, and more than willing to take on a right-hand man to aid him is building his third empire. He is the leader of the gang known as the False Face Society, and has dealt with Deathstroke, Carmine Falcone, Sal Maroni, Joker, Batman, and the Red Hood in the bygone times of his previous crime empires.
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Jakob Grimes; The Sheriff



Name:
Jakob Grimes


Nickname/Alias:
The Sheriff/Mr. Grim


Gender:
Male


Age:
Over a century - but he doesn't remember specifically.


Appearance:

  • Height: 6'0"

  • Weight: 120lb

  • Build: Emaciated

  • Hair Colour: Black

  • Eye Colour: White

  • General Attire: His coat, boots, and hat, always. Waistcoats, shirts, and rough trousers come and go.



Metahuman Abilities:
Undead: Mr. Grimm has risen from his coffin deep in his mausoleum, and lives without living. He does not need to breathe, eat, drink, or sleep (though he is capable of all but the last), and while his muscles are frail, they are not limited by the need for oxygen. However, he is still quite capable of feeling pain, much to his chagrin.

Regeneration: The forces that bind Mr. Grimm's soul to the waking world also refuse to let him leave, and to this end knit his wounds and soothe his aches. Mr. Grimm can be killed, but everything short of the removal and burning of his head, or the discovery and removal of his reason to 'live', he will regenerate from. If you lop off his arm, it'll crawl back to him, and he'll pick it up and put it back. This regeneration effect is not instant, but it is constant.

Magical Weaponry: Mr. Grimm's pistols and bandoleer have been blessed by the same magicks that brought him up from his grave, and neither will ever run out of bullets with which he can protect the innocent and uphold justice.


Skills and Talents:
As a requirement of his profession in life, Jakob is a fair shot with his pistols, and also used to surviving on the trail or while hunting a bounty for weeks at a time. While the survival is not something that much bothers him anymore, he's still a competent tracker - and a fair rider of a horse, too.


Biography:
Jakob was a sheriff in his time, and since he was a young lad had a strong sense of justice, the balance between right and wrong, the struggle for good and the ever-present need for protecting the innocent. He preserves this now, even in his dilapidated new form, and strives to uphold justice and the moral good. He's gruff, though, having jaded with age and seeing bandits coming and going, and now having risen into a time where it seems all his efforts were for naught against the oncoming tide of corruption and evil.

He's also a fish-out-of-water, as the modern city is far different from the town he used to patrol and protect. He is lost temporally, and has little other than the fight against evil to anchor his mind. Mourning for his wife and daughter - who died after him - he grips ever tighter on the innocence of the young and the righteous. Sadly, he has not been raised for long, and his appearance - while the modern world has seen its fair share of gruesome faces - does not strike those he wishes to protect with a sense of goodness and trust. Frankly, he keeps to himself, and relies on his newfound regeneration and his trusty pair of six-shooters to keep him, and his chosen quarries, safe.


Other:
Though he does not know this, should be ever, in his undeath, turn against those moral codes that he lived his life by, his guns will turn on him, refusing to fire, and the powers that keep him rooted will fade, allowing him to rot and die once more. The magic that raised him will only hold so long as he fulfills the purpose for good he was meant to serve.
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Alex Fumal; 'The Spirit of Smoke'

Name:
Alexa Maya Fumal


Nicknames:
'Alex'; 'Lexi'; 'May'


Alias:
The Spirit of Smoke


Gender:
Female


Birthday:
Born 4th August, 1994; 19 as of October 2013


Height:
Five feet, eight inches


Weight:
One hundred and thirty pounds


Hair Colour:
Naturally auburn


Eye Colour:
Naturally hazel


Appearance:



Standing slightly short, but acceptable for a pretty girl studying at college, and slim without looking emaciated, Alex can be said to be a picture of health and is envied by many girls at her college for the attractive figure she strikes. Her hair is wavy and kept short so as to remain manageable, and many times (mostly due to her habit of waking too late for a shower before class) hidden beneath a fashionable hat or beret. As an Architecture student, she's often seen with a leather tote bag, which contains a drawing pad and several pens and pencils, along with course notes, her phone, her purse, her various public transport passes, and snacks to keep her going throughout the day. Warm weather has her in shorts, flowing skirts, and sheer tops, while the colder months usher in thick, patterned leggings and over-sized woolly jumpers.




Compared to Alex's standard fashion sense, her vigilante costume is an altogether different beast. With a deep love of (and vested interested in) the Gothic and rustique architecture of the city of New Lilith, Alex has chosen to forge her vigilante aesthetic in line with that of her beloved city's visual identity. Her costume, then, is reminiscent of the magical and mythical history of New Lillith, using robes, sashes, and hoods coloured with ashen grays and whites and garnished in deep, rich purples and red to inspire the feel of some kind of sorceress, or an enchanter. She hopes that the visual direction of her costume, coupled with the thick, sight-impairing smoke that she creates, will instill the criminals she hunts with a fear of the city, and the belief that she is some vengeful spirit of New Lilith itself.

Alex is also aware of the importance of misdirection, and especially the presentation of a false target when it comes to being engaged in combat. To this end, she employs a heavyweight lantern-like burner fixed tight and strong to several chains decorated with engraved beads, in keeping with the aesthetic of her costume. While her powers are able to work separately to this burner, she centers the use and production of her smoke and gas around it to engage in a kind of double-bluff, making her opponents aware of the burner and luring them into believing it is the source of her abilities. The burner, drawing their attention, becomes a target of a higher priority than her, and the loss or destruction of it in combat will give Alex an opportunity for a strike of surprise once her enemies believe they have the upper hand. She also uses it as a weapon, competently swinging it around in a manner similar to the flails of the past in order to do simple blunt, destructive damage.


Abilities:
Alex has the unique ability to manipulate particles in the air around her, condensing them and changing the properties of the molecules to synthesize a thick smoke or smog that she can then manipulate further. Alex needs to concentrate to begin the process, but after it has begun, she finds it increasingly easier to continue spreading her smoke through the air around her. The smoke is thicker the nearer it is to Alex and thins as it spreads out to between 5 and 10 meters, but concentration and direct manipulation can increase the effectiveness of it up to a range of 20 meters.

The smoke's most basic function is simple obstruction of sight, a gray hanging mass thick enough to restrict the vision of those caught in it to a few inches in front of them. Alex can use this to her advantage to disallow the enemy sight on her, and then strike from the smoke at them before seamlessly melding back into the fog, creating paranoia, confusion, and instilling a fear of the smog for what may be lurking within it. However, Alex retains the capacity to manipulate the smoke and change its properties in various ways, creating smoke that knocks trapped foes unconscious, fog that seeps in and poisons those caught in it, and even vicious fog that corrodes objects and people that stand in its way.

Alex's basic smog also has a secondary use that Alex has yet to master, or even discover. With concentration and practice, Alex can compress the smoke and form crude constructs, basic blocks or walls of dense smog that can slow projectiles, block melee strikes, or be used to cause blunt injury through ramming and bashing.

Alex, thankfully, remains unaffected by her smoke, whatever form she commands it to take, due to an unconscious secondary ability of her power that simply blocks her smoke from entering her system or harming her. However, this secondary protection affects only the smoke Alex herself creates, and has no effect over any gases or smokes from outside sources.


Skills and Talents:
Alex is intelligent and eager to learn, interested in Architecture and History and studying both at college. She has an artists hand and draws detailed diagrams and sketches with ease, only practised further with the isometrical drawings she must often complete as part of her course. Her memory for shapes and details is also impressive, and she has many hand-drawn sketches of various New Lilith sights and buildings scattered about her student dorm, a habit that she has retained since a young age, and indeed her main reason for thrusting herself so vigorously into the study of Architecture. Her study of History comes mostly as an accessory to her main course, the Architecture of her city so steeped in the past, but Alex also harbours a deep belief in learning from the mistakes of former men and often quoting the creed "Those who forget our history//Are condemned to repeat it."

Beyond a good memory and mastery over a pad and pencil, Alex is toned and physically fit due to a habit of attending first a New Lilith public gym and now her college's private gym. Chubby as a child and mocked for it in middle school, she worked hard to shed the extra pounds and tone her body, and developed a habit of daily exercise, resulting in a good amount of stamina and agility, although she focuses little on weight training and as such has not developed her physical strength. She is also fairly computer-literate, her architecture course requiring skill with most forms of design programs, and particularly the use of CAD software.


Equipment:
Alex owns several personal artifacts that are a regular commodity in a young woman's life, including:

-An iPhone 5;
-A brown leather tote bag;
-A set of lead and coloured drawing pencils;
-Several A4 and A3 sketch pads;
-Yearly passes to New Lilith's various public transport systems;
-A Macbook Pro laptop;
-A digital drawing tablet;
-An iPad.

As a vigilante, Alex takes several separate useful objects with her on her 'outings':

-Plastic cable-ties for impromptu handcuffs;
-A pager set up to the police scanner system;
-A stick of mace;
-A small first-aid kit, including bandages and painkiller pills;
-And of course, her costume and her burner.


Biography:
Born early August but a week late, Alexa Fumal was unquestionably an Autumn child. She came as the leaves fell from the trees, and throughout her childhood and adolescence it was this time of year that she adored the most; the colours of the trees shifting in a hundred myriad ways, the satisfying crunch of a fallen leaf underfoot, the cozy afternoons and the cooling evening breezes. Her father, an aspiring architect himself, trying to set up his own firm (which he would later accomplish, though not to any divine amount of success), often took her on walks around the city on days like these, enjoying the air and pointing out the particular ways a building curved into a spire here, or tapered into gargoyles there, or the way two walls intersected, or how one set of windows created light and heat and a pretty building. Alex, rather than reject these teachings for the things more worthwhile to a child's mind (although there was plenty catching of fireflies on days like those), absorbed them fully, becoming as enraptured with the sculpture of a functional but beautiful city building as her father. She took up drawing young, her crayon scribbles focusing on rectangles and other shapes mashed together in pre-pubescent attempts to emulate her father's observations, and eventually advanced her talent - and by proxy, her compositions of polygons - as she grew older, her father teaching her the tricks of isometric sketching while she was in middle school.

Amongst all the inheritance of her father's traits, Alex's mother remained slightly distant. She loved her daughter dearly, but both parents knew her conception had not been purposeful; indeed, Alex's mother had not been entirely sure she desired children at all (such uncertainty the chief reason Alex never received a brother or sister). Alex's genesis had come about by way of a broken condom, and panicked store-brand pregnancy test a few weeks thereafter, and some days after that, a debate between the parents-to-be that eventually - with heavy praise on her father - settled on the birth of the child. This lingering doubt of whether Alex was truly wanted or not remained with her mother always, and Alex felt it. Not explicitly, but Alex felt it. Her father was more involved, more doting, more invested in Alex's achievements. Her mother was kind and gentle but retained an aloof air, and it created a schism between them. Alex fell further into her fathers arms, and eventually, when her parents separated (for reasons relating to financial security, her mother's belief that her father refused to be responsible with his income from his firm, and her father's belief that her mother refused to see a dream as more important than the money earned from it) she inevitably chose to live with her father full-time.

Alex gained weight after the separation, and insensitive peers in middle school pushed her into her now-unconscious habit of daily exercise, and by late high school, she had slimmed down and blossomed. She had a few boyfriends, and lost her virginity at the Lover's Ring in the summer between High School and College to a boy she left a few weeks later. During high school, her interest in Architecture had focused and she'd passed an extra-curricular course on the subject, and her interest in History had wormed its way into her mind. She applied for both subjects - Architecture major, History minor - at nearly every college in New Lilith, and got accepted by the New Lilith Institute of Technology. She got a part-time job at New Lilith's mountainside Ski Resort to help cover the costs, and now lives in cheap student accommodation off-campus, shuttling in and out of the city on various forms of public transport, and finding time between her work and her studies to engage in a social life.


Sample Post:
"...anyway, that's it for today." The professor looked up at the lecture hall, maybe a hundred student poised at the edge of their seats with pads and bags in hand. "Dismissed," he said, and hadn't even finished the word before the shuffling of paper and quiet stomping of feet drowned him out. Alex shuffled out at the back of the crowd, tote bag slung over her shoulder and notepad clutched in her hands, hugged to her chest. A beret hid her hair and a pair of large circular sunglasses hid her eyes. She held her head down, only raising it as she stepped outside into the brisk October afternoon air, trying to feel some of the sun's warmth on her face. The nights were fast drawing in, but the weather was still good while the days held. Alex turned as someone called her name.

Jethro. A cute boy she'd met by the virtue of social circles brushing at the edges on a night out, where drinks and laughs and numbers could be shared without a second thought, barely with the first. He'd asked for hers and she'd complied, and then two days later her phone had buzzed and they'd began chatting. It had been a couple weeks and several nights out since then, a few kisses shared and his strong hand on her ass, but no real date yet. Alex wasn't sure if she should expect one. She wasn't really sure if they weren't dating already. She tried not to pay it any mind.

"Alex." Jethro said, smiling as he pulled her into a hug with a single hand, the other coming out of his jacket pocket to embrace her properly. Alex hugged back and smiled in kind, enjoying his smell and the height of him. When he hugged her, she could press her ear up against his ribs and hear his heart. They stepped apart and he took off his sunglasses. She didn't. They made her feel more confident.

"I wanted to ask you to dinner." He said, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. She smirked, knuckles turning white from clutching her notepad to stop the smirk turning into a full-blown grin. She raised an eyebrow.
"Dinner? I thought you'd spent all your money on drinks." She was teasing, doing her best to be playful. He noticed and fell in line.
"I spent all my money on your drinks, maybe." He grinned, and they both chuckled. "I'm gonna cook for you. Kicked my flatmates out for the night."
Alex lowered her notepad to her side and put a hand to her chest in mock surprise. "Especially for me? Do you spoil all the girls this way, Jet?" He smiled and tutted.
"I've been known to. Don't share my weed stash with them, though." Alex's eyes shined. "Dove forwarded me some for a favour." They both smiled again and Alex looked at the ground, appearing to mull it over.

"Yeah, alright. Sounds pretty good." She said, and Jethro bent back on his knees, throwing a hand to his heart and another to his forehead. Alex giggled and pushed at him, and he stepped back to catch himself, grinning as he straightened up.
"Brilliant. Come over for seven?" He asked, and Alex nodded. They hugged again, and then parted, Alex biting her lip and failing to suppress a wide smile. In hindsight, she hadn't been expecting it, and that had just made it even better.


Related Reoccurring Characters:







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Penelope Boeman



Name:
Penelope Boeman


Gender:
Female


Age:
16


Race:
Hybrid; Human/Mare-Kin ('Bogeyman')


Rank:
Student; First Year


Personality:

Brief History:

Appearance:
Mare-Kin are ethereal creatures, beings of ashen darkness with no solid shape and singular, focused minds. Humans, however, a mortal creatures of flesh and blood, hot with blood and pink with life. A hybrid like Penelope, then, has many traits of her phantom-like father, but naturally retains a comfortable human body. A Mare-Kin's form is not set and Penelope can use this to her advantage in her shape-shifting ability, but as she's matured her form has betrayed her true nature; her hands are turning the ashen colour of a Mare-Kin, and her fingers are sharp talons, delicate, deft, and dangerous - her feet, while their form remains human, share the colour as well. Her eyes are also a solid, unnerving black without sclera, iris, or pupil, and her teeth sharp fangs.


Preferred Weapon:
Penelope prefers not to fight, as Mare-Kin are more comfortable in the Dreamscapes of their prey, but when forced to defend herself, her shapeshifting allows for a variety of methods with which to maul and injure her enemies. Penelope's permanently clawed hands are her most practiced tools, and she hands out wounds quickly with them.


Abilities:
Shapeshifting: Penelope possesses the ability to change her form into various shapes, turning arms into tentacles, feet into cloven hooves, stretching herself out impossibly or sprouting appendages from all over her body. Doing so is an invocation of her true Mare-Kin form, and changes made this way always appear ashen gray or even black - not a change in colour, but a loss of it completely.

Hypnotic Whisper: A trait possessed by all Mare-Kin, Penelope can speak softly in such a way that beckons her target toward a deep slumber. Should the 'victim' fall asleep, by these means or another, Penelope can then continue to speak hushed tones to their ear, implanting terrible dreams and frightening images into their mind, and nourish herself on the fear born of their nightmares.

Dreamscape Travel: Beyond whispering nightmares, Penelope can embrace her Mare-Kin form completely and transport herself directly into the dreams of her chosen mark. Here, in these dreamscapes, she has powerful influence over the non-reality found within, able to weave landscapes and summon creatures, creating fear and paranoia and gorging herself far more efficiently. However, the victim is far more capable of fighting back should Penelope (or indeed, any Mare-Kin) choose to feed in this way.


Other:
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"S'just the way of it, son. We all sell our souls sooner or later."


| Identity |
John 'Constantine' Constantine


| Origin & Backstory |
John Constantine was born into the shit that would follow him for the rest of his life - and appropriately enough, he arrived in Liverpool, 1989. His twin asphyxiated in the womb on John's umbilical cord, and his mother, Mary-Anne Constantine, died giving birth to him and his stillborn brother because an earlier forced abortion had weakened her womb, causing it to rupture and bleed out. Thomas Constantine, John's father, and the man who had forced the abortion upon his wife, was incapable of accepting the responsibility of Mary-Anne's death, and instead blamed his surviving son, John - and they grew up harboring a deep dislike of one another. Thomas had little involvement in John's upbringing, and much of his care was left to his older sister, Cheryl Constantine. After their father descended into alcoholism and was imprisoned for petty theft and voyeurism, Cheryl and John moved to Northampton to live with their Aunt and Uncle for a brief time, before returning after Thomas' release. It was their return to both Liverpool and their father that set John off onto his journey into the magical and occult.

John had discovered his ancestry in Northampton, his blood belonging to a long family line known as the Laughing Magicians, legendary mages known for their power over Synchronicity and their uncanny ability to bluff and trick even gods. This discovery led him to delve into the practices of his lineage, and he began to partake in magic. His first act was to seal away his childhood innocence and vulnerability in a small wooden toy-box he once used, ridding himself of the burdens of virtues he'd lost long ago. Later on, in his teenage years, John botched a curse that left his father withered and frail and doomed to die - and subsequently ran from home, his sister, and Liverpool, heading to London and making a permanent home in an apartment with his roommate, Francis 'Chas' Kramer, who would go on to be John's oldest, closest, and longest surviving friend.​

~

| 2008: Zatanna Zatara, Mucous Membrane, and Astra |

John soon got involved in the occult circles of London's population. He practiced his magics and learned more about the occult world lying behind the mortal one, and began to travel to other cities and countries to expand his knowledge. In New York, 2008, he met a talented female magician called Zatanna Zatara, and the two began a relationship. Together, they grew enamored with Punk Rock after attending several gigs, and John was inspired to put together his own punk band, a three-man piece called Mucous Membrane. They released an album, and it was on their first tour that John got his first taste of magical heroism, and the disasters it would rain down upon his life.

On tour with his band in Newcastle, John stumbled across the aftermath of a horrific magical incident: an abused child - a little girl called Astra - had taken revenge on her adult tormentors by tapping into her raw innate magical abilities, conjuring a vicious monster to slaughter them in the middle of an orgy - and now the monster refused to leave the mortal plane. With a recklessness that would soon enough become his MO, John convinced Zatanna, Chas, his bandmates, and several other occultist friends to pour their power into summoning a demon of their own to combat the monster. Sadly, while their abilities were enough to bring forth the creature, they were not enough to bind it to their will. The demon, Nergal, killed the monster, and then tormented Constantine's friends and snatched Astra away to Hell. John suffered a nervous breakdown, severing ties with everyone he knew, and eventually being committed to Ravenscar Psychiatric Hospital, only ever keeping regular contact with Chas Kramer.

~

| 2010: Lung Cancer, the Triumvirate of Hell, and Blackmailing God |

Constantine was released from Ravenscar in 2010 with a clean sign-off on his mental health - despite persisting nightmares - and several 'goodbyes' from inmates and keepers alike. Constantine had been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer - brought on by his continuing smoking habit of nearly 30-a-day - and he'd been let out to enjoy his last days in freedom. The world had changed during his time in the ward, and was now filling up with extraordinary men and women, on all sides of the moral compass, and while Constantine knew that perhaps he was one of them, he refused his call. Instead, he traveled to Ireland to seek out a friend he once had who he believed could help cure him with magic and rituals.

He found Brendan dead, having drunk himself to death with rampant alcoholism and a suspiciously infinite supply of the best wines known to the world. It was at Brendan's funeral that Constantine had his first encounter with the entity that would become his greatest nemesis - the First of the Fallen, one of the three Triumvirate Rulers of Hell. Brendan had sold his soul to this being in exchange for an endless cellar of the finest wines in the cosmos, and the First had arrived to collect. Not wanting his old friend's soul to be eternally tormented in Hell, Constantine proposed a final toast to the mortal - spiking the First's wine with Holy Water, and tricking him into drinking it, rendering him helpless and unable to collect Brendan's soul. Unable to collect before midnight, Brendan's contract was declared null, and his soul ascended to Heaven. Wounded by the insult of being fooled by a mortal, the First declared Consantine's soul his by the 'right of insult', and swore to collect him upon his death and render unto him torment twofold, enough to make up for the soul he lost.

Slowly dying from cancer, Constantine created a plan. In secret, he summoned both the Second and Third of the Fallen - the others of the Triumvirate - separately and struck up deals with both, pledging his soul now three times over. Soon, the First, Second, and Third discovered Constantine's scheme, and realized that should he die, the Triumvirate would erupt into a war over ownership that would tear apart Hell and of which the only true winner would be God and His angels. Too proud to form an alliance, they instead decided that their only option was to cure John of his cancer, and allow him to live. While doing this, however, they also took their power to create a counterpart to Constantine, a Demon formed of all his worst attributes and vices, but lacking none of his cunning or magical prowess. In doing this, they were assured that when Constantine's soul finally came to rest in Hell, it would be consumed by this Demon, whose power would be near unparalleled, and used for naught but evil and the destruction of Earth and Heaven. John knew this, and in cunning desperation, contacted God. His aspect appeared, and came to converse by campfire. John warned Him of the demonic power that would be released if his soul was to come into Hell, and that such a being would surely topple the Triumvirate and unleash countless Demons upon Earth and to assault Heaven, and shut the Gates of Hell so that the damned would have no rest, and be forced to rise again. Constantine blackmailed God into keeping his soul from Hell to prevent this. God knew that the events John described would come to pass, and agreed - but before His aspect disappeared from Earth, He warned John of great suffering that would soon visit itself upon his life.

~

| 2013: The Magic War, Rosacarnis, The Return of the First, and Cheryl |

John drifted for a time, travelling throughout and between England and the US, performing as a stage magician and learning more about magic and his abilities, and occasionally being drawn into occult business. He found himself in America for Sta'rro and the 'Dawn of Justice', aiding with his magic where he could, but soon left again, and came back to Britain to reconcile with his sister Cheryl, whom he'd thought dead. It was at that time that a Magic War erupted in London, and Constantine found himself thrust into the middle of it, his sister dragged in with him. He allied with an entity known as the Shadow Dog against a demonic being known as The Beast; the ensuing battle and eventual victory left him vulnerable, and he was ensnared by the demon Rosacarnis, under commands from the First, who bound him to her will for day. She had John father three demonic children, who then went on to slaughter anyone who had ever known Constantine - from family and friends to enemies and those who had met him only briefly as an ally in the Magic War. Cheryl's husband, a pious man, was whipped into religious fanaticism and pushed to see his wife as a witch - and she was duly slain by his hand. In grief, Constantine dove into Hell to retrieve her soul and resurrect her, accompanied by the demon Nergal.

It was not long through their journey that they encountered the one who barred Constantine's entrance into Hell; the demon created from his negative aspects. John was forced to allow Nergal possession of him to defeat the Demon Constantine, tainting his soul irreparably. Eventually, John and Nergal arrived at the hall of Rosacarnis, wherein a feast was being held with Rosacarnis, the First, and Constantine's three children in attendance. John baited Rosacarnis into attempting to slay him in return for Cheryl's release, but as she attempted to do so, the First intervened and immediately killed her as well as two of the three demon children she had forced John to sire, declaring that Constantine was his to collect when he deemed.

Alone with Constantine, the First summoned up Cheryl's soul. He deemed her pure and innocent, a soul that truly did not belong in Hell - but offered her a deal. Telling her that her husband killed himself after murdering her, and was therefore twice-damned, the First offered to fairly divide his punishment between him and Cheryl if she remained to be tormented in Hell of her own free will. Constantine argued and pleaded in vain against it, screaming that her husband had murdered her and was not deserving of such mercy at one's own suffering - but ultimately, Cheryl still loved her husband too much, and agreed to the deal, deciding to stay in Hell, and preventing Constantine from bringing his only remaining family back to Earth. The First gloated, and sent John back home, and in mad grief he ran into the night and fled to America, turning his back on Britain and the torment he suffered there, only Chas Kramer following him.

~

Now, it is 2014, and Constantine is 25 years old, a resident of Chicago who likes to holiday in Gotham, earning a living as a Private Investigator of both mundane and paranormal matters, as well as being drawn into occult conflicts and slowly growing into his role as a hero of Earth - as much as he hides from it. While cynical, disillusioned, and foul-mouthed, and still going strong with his smoking habit, Constantine is a compassionate Humanist at heart, and struggles to keep the forces of both Heaven and Hell in check within himself and in the world around him, seeking to keep humanity free from either influence.​


| Character Notes |

SUPPORTING CAST:















FREQUENTED LOCATIONS:







EQUIPMENT:



| Powers & Abilities |
While Constantine's magical prowess is most certainly not to be dismissed out-of-hand, he rarely relies on it, especially in the midst of combat. He faces his challenges instead armed with the cunning and quick-thinking that his family line is nearly legendary for, as well as his vast knowledge of the paranormal and occult, his skill at manipulating friend and foe alike, and his extensive list of contacts - which, combined, are often more useful than the spells, rituals, and curses at his command. John Constantine is considered by many to be the world's greatest con-man.

Constantine's sorcery is still a force to be reckoned with, however. With experience in Evocation (the calling of supernatural entities), Illusion (the distortion and misdirection of the senses), and Necromancy (the summoning of, and communication with, the dead), John Constantine's magic spans many fields. He also has a wide range of protective magics at his command, shielding him from both physical and supernatural attacks, and well as protecting his mind from offenses such as telepathy, possession, and mind control. John is also capable of using sigils and runes to block omnipresence for a time, rendering his actions completely secret for a period of time, similar to when he dealt with the Second and Third of the Fallen to trick the First. John's offensive magic is less practiced than his defenses, but still capable of mild electrokinesis, telekinesis, pyrokineses and immobilisation. John's magic has also permanently granted him a form of Third Sight, allowing him to see Demons, Angels, and Half-Breed for their true selves constantly, regardless of what disguises and illusions they have thrown up to hide themselves among mortals, as well as allowing him to utilise magic to dispell camoflauge.

Finally, beyond his wielding of the arcane arts, Constantine is also versed in the use of stage magic, including sleight of hand, pick-pocketing, and escapology. He is also in possession of many magical - or anti-magical - artifacts, some of which he uses regularly to battle the forces of Heaven and Hell.​


| How is this character different? |
My Constantine is a highly-edited mash-up of the three canon interpretations that currently exist; a mix of his early days in DC Vertigo's Hellblazer, his later appearances in the DCU alongside more commonly known heroes like Superman and Batman, and his newest incarnation in DC's New52. Several events are yet to happen to Constantine, if indeed they happen at all, and others have been removed entirely to allow a more streamlined, intuitive history. My Constantine is younger, brasher, bolder, but still tormented and scarred, with some aspects edited and shaken up to allow him personal quirks that will serve to truly mark him as my own interpretation of his character. Hopefully, he is one that will enter the UDC universe a better fit, and one that will not appear jarring alongside the capes and costumes of other characters.​


| What is your goal with this character? |
My Constantine's immediate goal is the retrieval of Astra's soul from Hell, a fate he indirectly inflicted on the girl, and something he considers his greatest failure that still haunts him today. Beyond that, Constantine defends the world from the influences of both Heaven and Hell, and works to solve crimes and mysteries of both mundane and occult natures. Hopefully, he will come to be friends with the major heroes of the DC universe, and go on to recruit Deadman, Zatanna, Black Orchid, and Andrew Bennet to form the Justice League Dark. He will also deal with the First and his activity, and resolve supernatural phenomenon that have been haunting him since his birth.


| Sample Post |
John Constantine took a long drag on his cigarette. He was stood on the sidewalk on a back-alley, nondescript street of New York City, a small sign hanging above a single wooden door embedded in marble architecture. The sign read 'Midnite's', and behind the door lay burgundy carpeting, stairs leading down into the Lounge, and dim, red-tinted lighting. John stubbed out his cig on the wall he was leaning against and blew the last of the smoke into the air. It clung to him and wreathed his neck as he pushed through the door into the Midnight Lounge.

Constantine stamped down the stairs, his hands thrust into the side pockets of his trenchcoat. A bouncer awaited him at the bottom, a velvet rope hanging across a doorway on his left and a neatly-stacked deck of black-backed cards on a small chrome stool-table on his right. John grunted as they locked eyes, acknowledging a recognition born of repetition. John's eyes ran over the bouncer's array of runic and symbolic tattoos, particularly the triangular designs on the tops of each of his wrists. He could keep John out through physical force alone, but he was more than capable of keeping the occult world's nastier beasties out too. John gulped mentally. He always did.

He reached the bottom and stood dutifully in front of the doorman, who looked Constantine and his dusty coat up and down, and then reached for the deck. In a movement too fast for John to see the mechanics of, he removed a random card from the deck and showed it to Constantine, black-side up. Constantine didn't skip a beat.
"The Fool, ya witty bastard."
There was a micro-second's worth of an amused smirk that flashed across the bouncer's tattooed face, and then the card was back in the deck, and the velvet rope had been pulled off from across the entryway, allowing Constantine to go in. He did so, and was immediately hit by loud music and the smell of smoke, liquor, and just the faint hint of copper. Or maybe blood. John didn't waste any time in what was essentially the lobby - instead, he headed past the bar and toward the back of the room to a small mahogany door, the dark wood almost camouflaged against the brown leather buttoned to the wall. John knocked thrice. A small porthole slid open, a pair of beady eyes behind. They scanned Constantine up and down, and then the porthole slid shut. John waited, heard several metal ka-thunks as the door was unlocked, and then stepped in as it swung open and then shut behind him.

He saw Papa Midnite immediately. The voodoo-baron was splayed out across a circular booth in the corner of the room, a single figure sat in front of him - hunched forward, hands on the table, hair slicked back with a mixture of grease, wax, and sweat. He'd almost look nervous - if John didn't see him for what he was. A Half-Breed, some unholy child that didn't live up to the annihalistic expectations of its father. Sections of his skin were rotted and a single gnarled, curled horn spiraled out from the left side of his forehead. Whatever glamour he had was irrelevant, stripped away by John's Third Eye. Constantine was a magician, and he'd seen enough of the world not to be fooled by parlor tricks anymore. He waited until the Half-Breed had finished whatever conversation he and Midnite were having, and then took his place as he left the table for a different table and a drink.

"Thought your sister persuaded you to leave the mob business." Constantine sat down, leaning back in the seat and pushing the tails of his coat out from under him. Midnite sat up, arms no longer stretched out against the leather of the booth-bench. He raised an eyebrow.
"I must have regrown a conscience when she pulped me in front of the Empire State." He replied, and Constantine grunted in amusement. "But he wasn't a convict." Constantine grunted again, rolling his neck to watch the half-breed subtly over his shoulder out the corner of his eye.
"Certainly looks like an escapee to me..." He muttered, and Midnite frowned.
"You know the rules of my house, Constantine. Under my roof, you will abide by them." Constantine turned back, eyeing Midnite. "What are you here for, John."
John sniffed. "Same thing. Stiff drink, some light conversation, and a warm place to light one u..." He trailed off as he opened his pack of fags and found them empty. "Aah, dammit."

"Light conversation, John? Any particular subject?" Papa Midnite asked as he beckoned with a finger for two glasses and some liquor to pour into them. John waited while the drinks were brought over, keeping an eye on the half-breed at the table across the room - he was half-certain he was doing the same - and then eagerly took his glass as Midnite finished pouring. He drank before speaking, and drank when he'd finished.
"Hell. Souls. Little girls. Keepers and whereabouts."
"Still? Constantine, no one knows anything about her. Nergal took her and put her in some dark, forgotten corner, and he's not talking." Midnite sighed, but Constantine didn't move, back to watching the half-breed. He had noticed the horn twitch as he'd looked up sharply at the Midnite naming Nergal. Constantine wanted to test the waters.
"She's somewhere, Midnite."
"She's gone, John. Astra is gone." Another twitch. John faked a relent, throwing his hands up and finishing his drink.
"Fine. You win. She's gone." Papa Midnite tutted, half-smiling at John's obvious front. John got up. "I need a new pack of Silk Cut anyway." He said. The half-breed rose slowly as well. John suppressed a smug smirk. "I'll see you around, Midnite."
"Not by my skulls, John. You're not in New York for long."
Constantine waved him off and left - the half-breed following. With any luck, he thought he had the advantage. Constantine rubbed the sigils inked onto his forearms.​
Hidden 9 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Roman
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Roman Grumpy Toad, King of Dirt

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| Name(s) |
Gemini 'Gem' Trent // Siamese 'Sia' Trent

| Alias(s) |
Lock // Load

| Age |
18

| Sponsor |
Booster Gold

| Personality |
Vivacious // Grounded // Loyal

| Experience |
Two (and a half) Weeks

| Power(s) |
LOCK | Possesses a low-functioning form of technopathy that allows her to take rudimentary resources from her surroundings and use them to intuitively construct weapons, explosives and firearms almost without second thought.

LOAD | Possesses tandem-functioning forms of energy manipulation and technopathy that allows her to instill 'power' into any tool or weapon she is in contact with, and upgrade it to perform its intended function better, at a higher level, or more efficiently.

Clearly, the sister's abilities perform best when used together; Lock creating crude and cheap weaponry quickly from whatever she can find, and then handing it off to Load so that it can become a true battlefield terror.

| Weaknesses |
LOCK | Builds require resources, and without materials, she cannot build anything. Additionally, poor quality materials will create poor quality weaponry. The more complex a weapon, the more detailed resources Gem needs, and her builds do not instill her with innate knowledge on a weapon's proper usage.

Finally, Gem's power does not come with an 'off' switch. While this is useful out in the field, constantly seeing resources and how to use them, in her day-to-day it can be overwhelming and mind-flooding.

LOAD | Upgrades require energy and time, and progress slowly at first. Upgrades are lost if Sia loses contact, and she must focus carefully if she wishes to 'direct' an upgrade down a specific path, and she must intentionally and consciously begin an upgrade process. Additionally, unless Sia directs an upgrade down autonomous function, her upgrades do not instill knowledge on how best to use the new-and-improved object.

| Appearance |
Gem and Sia are twins, and while not identical, they are similar; both have stark blonde hair, with sharp features and lean bodies. Gem's hair is often worn in a wild, thrown-back quiff, the sides shaved haphazardly, while Sia usually tilts more towards allowing her long, straight hair to flow freely, tied up into a tail in time of concentration. Both dress in avant-garde nature, more often because of what little clothing is available to them, rather than an eccentric fashion taste.

| Bio |
Orphaned from 13, Gem and Sia have come to lean on each other as their only reliable source of comfort, compassion, and actually giving-a-shit about their wellbeing. Shuffled through the boarding school system for a few years, their powers often getting them trouble and transfers in that order, the twins eventually abandoned government-subsidized 'care', and found themselves surviving on the street, using their abilities to the best they were capable of to help their situation.

Scrounging and odd-jobs soon turned into accidental heroism after Gem, in the heat of an episode, constructed a crude crossbow and pinned a would-be mugger to the wall behind him. Discovered shortly after by Booster Gold, who was looking for the would-be vigilantes in hopes they were indeed 'vigilantes' and not villains-to-be, they were admired by Booster for their similarly rough upbringing, innovative technopathy-based powers, and general good-hearted nature that led them to defending the common citizen in the first place.

Still looking for a ward to sponsor, Booster introduced Lock & Load to the rest of the Justice League, and quelled claims about their inexperience and young age with claims that he had fore-knowledge from the future of their impact upon the world-at-large. While such claims were doubted, the League could not deny their plausibility, nor the twin's own suitability for the candidacy. They were cautiously accepted, and have been working hard to earn their place ever since.

| Sample |
It was clanking that awoke Sia. Clanking and muttered groans of frustration and more clanking and- Sia rolled over, lifting an arm to check her clock, red LED's glowing harsh. 8:13. Gem had had worse episodes. Sia strained her neck to check the corner of the room where Gem's scrap heap resided. It was less of a heap, now, more of a...mound? Pile? The words still seemed too big. Whatever, it was smaller than it had been when they'd gone to bed. Or at least, when Sia had gone to bed.
"Gem?" Sia said gently, sitting up in bed, carefully prodding her sister. It was important not to startle her in an episode. Who knew what she'd constructed. "What've you been building?"

Gem dropped the scrap that was in her hands and hovered a hand over a pile of odd, near-spherical objects that lay beside her. She picked one up and cradled it in both hands, standing and turning around - Sia could see her eyes were bloodshot, hair greasy and pulled back. Oil marked her face, though Sia couldn't see any cans or containers in the room. How did she always manage that?
"Bombs."
Oh. Good.
"At first explosive!"
Naturally.
"Just plain bada-boom, y'know, bit of gunpowder? But then I saw these," Gem threw her arm behind her and scooped up some metal shavings, "and I thought, what about a dispersal system? Like, a scatter-bomb." Sia nodded along, ignoring her need for coffee. It was best to let Gem talk. "And that got me thinking about dispersal systems in general! SO many different things you can put in a bomb, Si, it's crazy! This one's just the boom, but you've got EMP's, sonics, heat. You just put this there and then that goes around here and then you press this-"

Sia leaped frantically from her bed and nearly tackled Gem in sweeping the bomb from her hands, then fled to the window, flinging it open and tossing the small metal bomb out into the open air beyond. It clicked mid-flight and Sia pushed herself flat to the ground. There was a boom and a rumble and Sia got up, peeking out of the window. There was smoke, and a small piece of metal was vibrating in the wall next to their window, but through the lingering black plume Sia could see small bits of coloured paper fluttering gently in the breeze, starting their fall to the ground.

"Oh, that one was confetti. A celebration-bomb!" Gem said from behind her, cheerful and spacey.
"What were you celebrating?" Sia asked, exerting calm upon herself, turning around to face Gem.
"Well that's for whoever throws it to decide."
Sia tried to respond, but the tannoy crackled to life, and whatever she was about to say was cut off by the icy tones of their school's icy headmistress.
"Gemini and Siamese. Attend breakfast. And then my office."

Sia groaned, rooting through her drawers to find suitable clothing. Gem just grinned.
"Excellent." She said. "I'm starving."
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by Roman
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Roman Grumpy Toad, King of Dirt

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| Name: |
Piper. No last name.


| Alias: |
Currently uses 'Flechette' to protect her identity.


| Age: |
17


| Appearance: |
(No Anime/Manga Pictures, everything else is fair game. Please include a written description to elaborate upon your picture. Also I should note that a costume is probably not your smartest idea as you'd be put down almost immediately.)


| Abilities/Skills: |
Piper possesses low-level ferrokinesis - the manipulation of metal. This ability manifests through a mutated gene that causes two important extra functions within her body: the excessive production of iron by her bone marrow, and the formulation of a bizarre compound within her blood that binds with this iron. These two functions in tandem allow Piper to create small shards and splinters of moldable metal within her blood, that she can then eject from her skin. Right now, this allows Piper two skills: throwing small dart-like splinters from her arms and hands, and pushing small shards through the surface of her skin to grant herself sharp, metal barbs.

As these shards leave Piper's skin, they leave small wounds; perhaps as a result, Piper has an unconscious defense mechanism against the damage she does to herself. As her metal passes through her skin, a minute quantity breaks off from the shard and is left behind in the sub-dermal layer, which then spreads across the small puncture and blocks bacteria from the outside, and blood from the inside, until Piper's own immune system kicks in moments later to begin healing the wound. However, this protection does nothing against outside aggression, as it requires the remnants of her own metal to react to the wound left behind.

Eventually, Piper will be able to create and eject larger shards of metal, and force them into shapes she is currently incapable of - hooks, blades, daggers - and even form it around her own fists to allow her harder hits - with a lot of time and some intense practice, she'll also be able to spread it throughout her body on a sub-dermal layer, making her incredibly durable.


| Backstory: |
(Who are you? Where did you come from and how did you get thrown in prison.)


| Sample Post: |
(Be sure to show off your character's personality here and maybe some of their abilities. If you need an idea for this post, why not cover the day you were imprisoned.)


| Notes: |
-My favourite beverage is Kirin Ichiban, a delicious Japanese lager.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Roman
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Roman Grumpy Toad, King of Dirt

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| NAME(S): |
Elizabeth Contessa Cane

| NICKNAME(S): |
Goes by Liza. Also known as Helios within the convoy.

| D.O.B.: |
09/13/1992

| AGE: |
23

| SEX: |
Female, She/Her

| SEXUALITY: |
Asexual

| APPEARANCE: |
Liza is a Caucasian woman in her mid-20's, thrown into adulthood by the world but still learning her place in the universe. She stands 5'10 high and weighs 115lb. Her hair is a dark, silky brown, and kept shorn, her eyes a shimmering pale blue. She has angular, arguably-androgynous features, with a strong brow and a slender neck, to compliment the rest of her slim frame.

She has light burning on her right arm, and heavy burns and muscular damage on her left calf, causing the leg to weaken requiring a brace. Her lower neck also sports some light lashes of burn scars.​

| GENUS: |
​Homo-Virium/Hyperhuman

| CLASSIFICATION: |
Mars

| ABILITIES/SKILLS: |
Thermokinesis - The manipulation of heat.

Liza is able to manipulate the residual kinetic energy of ambient atoms and focus them in a central location, where the concentrated heat then creates a sphere of intense and extreme heat which ignites and stabilises itself - for the layman, she pulls heat from her surroundings to create a mini-sun.

Liza is then able to manipulate this sphere - guiding it, throwing it, withdrawing it - and can also change its size. This sphere becomes an extension of herself and is her only tool.

Liza can only create and maintain one sphere at a time - if she wants to create another, she must release the first.
She cannot draw more heat in to build into an existing sun - each new sun is fixed in intensity.
She cannot manipulate heat in any other way than the creation of her suns.
She can change the size of an existing sun, though doing this affects its intensity, decreasing further the greater the sun grows, and increasing the smaller it becomes.
She cannot maintain a sun while unconscious.
She cannot create a sun without any/enough ambient heat.

Liza is not immune to the heat her suns give off, or any heat source in general.

Due to her effectiveness revolving around wielding her sun, Liza has practiced herself in gymnastics and acrobatics, keeping herself agile, flexible, and light on her feet. She has also taught herself some tolerance to heat due to the temperatures her power forces her to deal with, but she still burns as easily as anyone else.

| BACKSTORY: |
Baby girl, bald, born September, 1992. Elizabeth Contessa - mother's and father's choice respectively. Cane, old family, bad connotations - infighting, murder. No one's choice. To be Lizzy for her first eleven years, Liza thereafter until now. Contessa isn't brought up. Raised by loving mother and doting father, though the latter's work made him distracted, tense, and the family moved a lot. House after house, city after city, state after state. Difficult to cement a relationship when you're born into drifters. Attempted nonetheless. Succeeded with scarcity, but appreciated what she had: a good family. A proud upbringing.

Twelve years until they settled; Liza was a fresh start for a 'grown up girl'; her own words. Middle school was finally stable; time now for crushes and bullying turning into pressured kisses. Liza liked boys, seceded to the expectations of her peers and parents. It wasn't until four years down the line that Liza realized there was a growing schism between her and the teenagers around her; cooties were still cooties to her, heavy breaths and fumbling hands unwanted, though often attempted. Insistence plagued her: insistence of her parents that she 'just hadn't met the right man yet'; insistence of her friends that she just wasn't doing it 'the right way'; insistence of boys that they could be the one to 'make it feel good'. Eventually, it was just the insistence that she wasn't normal - that a switch inside her simply hadn't been flipped 'on'. Liza had accepted it, sought emotional attachment instead. Her desires seemed to be brushed aside by the apparent sacrifice fulfillment would entail. Eventually, boys stopped trying. They knew she was weird. They knew she didn't have what they wanted. And when the boys stopped bothering, all of a sudden Liza found she had little to talk about with friends. Instead, she sought out the like-minded, those with preferences that deviated from the accepted societal norm. She found them easily, but somehow, her own deviation was still an anomaly, still bizarre and incomprehensible. It was made invisible, dismissed. She had no place at their meetings, in their community. She was weird to them, too.

All of a sudden, Liza's friends stopped too. Middle School continued and finished with a dull taste in Liza's mouth; High School offered little more to her palate. And so it was that Liza came to and passed through her adolescence, an event that marked her abnormal, cast a dividing line between her and her peers. There was scare else that could separate her further - but it happened regardless. The universe cares not for small odds.

Hyperhuman. There have been few such divisive terms in Mankind's history, but it is arguable that the recent emergence of a better human being has been perhaps the single most controversial event in world history. And yet Liza, at young 19, found herself thrust into these annals of time. Homo-Virium, Mankind version 2.0. Suns, she created. Heat focused into balls of fire. Scary. Dangerous. Thrilling, to a young Liza with little else to do in her free time. She was impressive, distinctive. Hyper-humanity was not invisible. The world would be forced to notice her.

And notice her it did. A lot of burns, in the early testing, young probing. Before the suns became a regular occurrence. Her first sun was a lesson Liza would not soon forget; the brace that helps her walk will ensure that alone. Other scars keep other lessons constant. Her suns are stable now, reliable. But her self-made injuries did nothing to stay the objections to her potential danger; her parents became afraid. Her peers stopped calling her 'weird', began calling her 'freak'. There was no greater barrier to cast between Liza and her peers, her elders, her youngers. Her parents loved her - but they did not accept her. And so it was until graduation.

Then the convoy arrived. Bands of Hyperhumans drawn together for support. Truly, this was Liza's community, more than her parents, more than her peers, more than the LGBT groups. It was with only a few tears she left her home to travel with this new family; it was with speed they fled yet more opponents to their existence.

Liza remains with the convoy today. They are the only circle she has ever truly been part of; the only people she can trust not to question her. She is both Liza and Lizzy to this new family; she is Contessa; but most importantly, she is Helios. Hyperhuman.

| MOTIVATION/OBJECTIVE: |
BELONGING - Liza's asexuality has, by and large, led to being alienated by old friends who don't understand (or accept) her sexuality, and crushes who, despite romantic feelings being present, feel a relationship is unmanageable without the sexual element. Liza sought refuge in her minority, but found the LGBT scene itself to be dismissive in its reception of those on the aro/ace spectrum, leading Liza further afield in search of somewhere to fit in. Her Hype status only compounded this issue as it is, to Liza, another wall between 'her' and 'normal people'. With no friends remaining, the convoy is all she has left to feel like home.

SAFETY - Liza's ability has proven itself to be exceptionally dangerous - reckless and impracticed use when she was younger and still exploring resulted in property damage around their home, as well as bodily damage to herself: minor burns on her lower neck remind her why she keeps her hair short these days, and the brace around her leg - needed after her very first sun resulted in terrible burns, muscle damage and scarring, weakening the leg - is a constant reminder about how destructive her powers really are. Liza knows that she is not the only hype whose ability serves little practical, non-offensive purpose, but neither does it secure complete invulnerability against those anti-Hype persons who would bring harm upon her and her loved ones. Perhaps within the convoy, she will need her ability a little less, and can receive a little more tutoring - or at least find a hype that can heal.

| REFERENCE POST(S): |

| NOTES: |
-Liza's Leg Brace.
-Wears a removable pressure bandage on her burnt arm to relieve some existing pain.
-Anchovies.
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| Name: |
Matthew Murdock (Attorney at Law)

| Alignment: |
Chaotic Good

| Affiliation: |
Manhattan/Hell's Kitchen
Nelson & Murdock, Attorneys at Law

| History: |
Born to a nameless mother, Matthew grew up with his father, Jack Murdoch, a semi-pro underground boxer for Hell's Kitchen and its underbelly. Jack had a penchant for getting back up off the mat despite however many broken bones he'd picked up, and this trait seemed to pass to Matthew, who would treasure it in later years; for most of his childhood, however, Jack tried to keep his only family hidden from the violence that plagued the downtrodden Manhattan neighbourhood and instead directed Matthew's attentions to his studies, making sure he kept up in school until Matthew started to excel by himself. Jack was proud that such a bright child could be called his, and he foresaw an escape from Hell's Kitchen for his son.

At nine years old, Hell's Kitchen put its claim on Matthew Murdock. A traffic accident and a brave, but reckless, act by Matthew caused a truck hauling chemical waste and toxic run-off to crash and overturn, spilling its cargo across the road and onto several bystanders - Matthew, who had shoved an old man out of harms way, was caught in the spill, the chemicals hitting his eyes and causing him to go permanently blind. Jack and Matthew's lives changed irrevocably - Matthew bound to the abilities that would reveal themselves over the next few months and years, and Jack bound to dealing with a disabled son who displayed abnormal reflexes and sensory overload.

Matthew spent his formative years learning his new place in the world, refining the senses he had left and continuing his studies. Jack continued boxing, losing and winning when the local wanna-be mafia told him to, until eventually - as he realised Matthew's abilities and intelligence were beginning to pull him to greater things, although his devotion to his father kept him rooted - he took a final stand, winning an against-all-odds boxing match in Round 9 against 'Crusher' Creel, despite being instructed to stay down in the fourth. Jack Murdock never made it home.

Matthew fled Hell'd Kitchen, cursing the criminals that had shaped his life, and ultimately ended his father's. He found refuge in an nun's orphanage for a time, until his abilities took the notice of a blind man who called himself 'Stick'; Matthew left with Stick to train his mind, senses, and body, and he never looked back.

Many years later, Matthew returned to Manhattan to pick up where he had left off in his education; securing a place at Columbia, where he met Foggy Nelson, and going on to secure a Summa Cum Laude Law Degree from Harvard Law, with Foggy attaining a Cum Laude Law Degree alongside him. Together, the two founded 'Nelson & Murdock, Attorneys at Law', and moved back to Hell's Kitchen - where they had both grown up - to try and change life for the better. Matthew soon found that courtroom law was far from the 'justice' he sought for the people of Hell's Kitchen.

At first, it was those in his immediate vicinity; a blindfold and dark clothes for the domestic abuser in the next building over, the cop taking bribes from the local dealer to keep him operating on student corners. Beyond that, Matthew moved his scope to the broader picture, donning padded athletic wear and a more stylised 'mask' to take on gambling rings and amateur human trafficking. Soon enough, Matthew saw too much in court to stand by action-less any longer. It was time for the suit, to combat the massive crime organisation that underpinned the criminal everyday of Hell's Kitchen.

It was time for Kingpin. It was time for Daredevil.

| Supporting Cast: |
Foggy Nelson - Best Friend, Law-Firm Partner
Karen Page - Close Friend, Law-Firm Secretary
Stick - Former Trainer

| How (if at all) does the New Frontier version of your character differ from the original?: |
My Murdock draws heavily from the Netflix series version - the same show that forced me to appreciate the character in the first place. He's practicing law, and already has his suit - but is yet to be coming fully to blows with the entirety of Wilson Fisk's (a.k.a. The Kingpin) criminal organisation.

| Post References: |
Vigilance: Rise of the Mavericks - Aava Arkham comes home to Larissa.
Vigilance: Blood & Justice - Det. Rustin Wolfe picks up a new case.
PRCU: Institute for the Extraordinarily Gifted - Team Blackjack's wild card, Minnie Ripper, outdoes herself - to self-suffering results.

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Roman Grumpy Toad, King of Dirt

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| Name: |
Harvey Dent

| Alignment: |
Lawful Good
Neutral Evil.


| Affiliation: |
Gotham City (District Attorney)
Gotham City PD
Gotham City's Socialites via Bruce Wayne
Nelson & Murdock, Attorneys at Law via Matthew Murdock

| History: |
Harvey Dent was born in Gotham to Harry Dent, a respected officer of Gotham City Police Department, and Lucy Dent, a middle school teacher. He was born five years after his brother, Murray Dent.

Murray was less than pleased with the new arrival. It took 5 years for his coldness to turn to cruelty, and he began engaging in abusive behavior away from the eyes of their parents. This quickly grew boring for Murray, and he became vindictive, physically assaulting Harvey. Most often, he used a coin that Harry had given him, a misprinted Silver Dollar with two 'face' sides - Murray would bait the young Harvey into believing that the coin was fair, and dictate that a 'tails' side would allow Harvey respite for the night - obviously, each game resulted in 'heads', and more abuse from Murray. Eventually, Harvey's injuries became obvious, and Murray's behavior was at least suspected, if not outright known. Murray was talked to quietly, given suggestion, sometimes separated from his brother - but ultimately, any public concerns were quelled, and Harvey's suffering was swept under the rug by way of his father's police connections.

Harvey was young, but he was angry. Angry at his powerlessness against his brother, angry at his parents - his supposed protectors - and their readiness to ignore his plight, angry at the injustice that even his young mind could understand was present. He repressed the anger, pushing it into a ball deep inside him, knowing such anger was useless in the face of his troubles. Eventually, the repression fractured Harvey's psyche, and formed a second personality inside his mind - a vindictive, aggressive personality, born of anger and persecution, desiring nothing but destruction and retribution. Harvey dubbed this personality 'The Hangman'. Harvey wrestled with this personality throughout his life, constantly keep control, but fighting for it every step of the way.


Murray Dent lived until fifteen. Shortly after Harvey's tenth birthday, Harry and Lucy Dent took several nights out to celebrate their twentieth anniversary, opportunities Murray did not pass on. Murray engaged Harvey in a game involving cloth ties and hot water, once again using the coin. Once again, Harvey was fighting for control over his own self. Harvey lost. The Hangman awakened.

At that point, Harvey's body was controlled by an engine of pure rage and punishment. The Hangman surprised Murray with his anger-fueled strength and speed, pulling free and overpowering Murray. A melee ensued - and in the fracas, the water Murray had been using was spilled, splashing over a mains plug. The sparks set alight to the sheets, and both Dent children found themselves in the midst of an inferno. The Hangman, rage spent, retreated, and Harvey came back, face to face with fire. Blinded by panic, Harvey ran, some abstract part of his mind drawing him to snatch up Murray's fallen Silver Dollar on the way out. Murray Dent lived until fifteen.

Life changed immediately. Harvey's mother, Lucy, left her job and went near-catatonic, never stepping out into public. Harvey's father, Harry, was stricken ill by grief, suffering a heart attack and retiring from the police force, using saved pay and a sizable pension to support his remaining family. He began to drink, resentment for his surviving son growing inside him as his shell-shocked mind started to blame Harvey for Murray's death. Harvey withdrew from his parents, feeling The Hangman more than ever after its first taste of control. He turned to the coin, kept secret from his parents, using it as a tool for repression - he would assign his control to the 'face' sides, much the same as Murray had assigned his, and flip it whenever he felt The Hangman press upon him, gaining resolve when the coin landed, always showing 'heads'.


Harvey came to be heavily interested - and personally invested - in the concept of Justice, coming to regard it as a cosmic force, a natural rule as much as gravity. He saw the fates of his family as examples that supported these beliefs, and began to see himself as an arbiter of that force. Entering high school at 14, he set himself as quickly as he could on a path that would head toward the world of Criminal Law.

Harvey did well at school. He took Crime&Punishment as extra credit and graduated with high honors, getting into the Columbia and then Harvard Law to study Criminal Law, Justice, and the Penal System, during which time he struck up a lasting friendship with Matthew Murdock, despite the distance between their cities. He worked hard, graduating with a promising future ahead of him. Harvey Dent began to practice law immediately, serving justice as best as he could in Gotham's courtrooms.

It was during university that Harvey tried to take control of his mind once again, and he sought psychiatric care. He found himself a patient of Gilda Vernon, a doctor of psychology and medicine who had set up her own office. Together, they began to effectively treat Harvey's psyche and other personality, and The Hangman's influence on him was weakening - though he still kept his silver dollar. However, Harvey soon found himself thinking too much of the intelligent, beautiful Gilda, and cut off their patient/doctor relationship - in favor of a romantic affair that quickly deepened in emotion. Harvey and Gilda were married in the first year of his practicing law, and they were happy.


It took two years of law in Gotham and avoiding the pockets of crime lords for Harvey to finally land the position of Gotham's District Attorney - and at 26 years old, he was the youngest the city had ever seen. He worked quickly to begin the war against Gotham's organised crime, and particularly Carmine Falcone, that Harvey had been planning since his graduation. They drew the attention of GCPD - mainly the corrupt majority of the force - but more importantly, James Gordon, an honest cop in a dishonest town. They began to work together, making fair headway in their mission - but eventually, hitting a block where the criminals they were after had hidden themselves behind the law.

It was the emergence of the enigmatic vigilante that became known as the Batman that proved a breakthrough in Dent and Gordon's efforts against the mob. While Gordon was adamant with the Batman's status as an outlaw, it came to light that this man was one they could trust - and Gordon and Dent eventually struck up an uneasy alliance with the vigilante, allowing them, through him, to fight Gotham's mafia in areas the law would have otherwise restricted them.

It took a year, but together, the three were a true threat to Falcone's empire. Their final breakthrough came about by Carmine's own hand, an orchestrated tragedy that was intended to scare Harvey off, but only galvanized him with fury: a hit upon his wife. With her gone, Harvey felt The Hangman more than ever, but able to retain control and channel his grief and anger into one last surge at his campaign - and he finally managed to charge Carmine and make it stick, sending the crime lord to Blackgate. Harvey, Gordon, and Batman had won - but Harvey was left wondering at what cost.

Now, Harvey fights Gotham's crime alongside Gordon and Batman, with his good friends Bruce Wayne and Matthew Murdock to support him, although he still feels he has only one true companion.
It's me.


| Supporting Cast: |
Bruce Wayne, trusted friend.
James Gordon, war comrade.
Matthew Murdock, uni buddy.
Batman, vigilante.
The Hangman.


| How (if at all) does the New Frontier version of your character differ from the original?: |
Harvey's got a chopped-up backstory that lays the building blocks of the character while keeping him fresh and revitalized - although this is very much a pre-villain Dent.
I'm still here.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Roman
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Roman Grumpy Toad, King of Dirt

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| BIRTHNAME: |
Penelope Boyle

| NICKNAME(S): |
'Penny Dreadful'

| ALIAS(ES): |
Viscera

| SEX: |
Female

| AGE: |
17

| APPEARANCE: |
As above. Her hair is naturally a deep orange, though she dyes it to a richer reddish colour that she finds a tad more bearable. She dresses very casually, mostly jeans with baggy tops and jackets.

| ABILITIES: |
Biokinesis - Penelope wields a low-level but potent form of biological manipulation - the complete control of her own biological matter, makeup and shape. Using this, she is able to change her biology rapidly and at will. Though she still has a lot to learn to wield her abilities to the fullest extent, she is still capable with the transformations she has managed thus-far, which include sprouting talons and spikes from her hands, spliting her face from the corners of her mouth into a fanged maw, and erupting barbs of bone from her skin.

The extent of Penelope's biokinesis is dependent on the available body mass to manipulate. The mutations mentioned above are 'low-resource' and easy to achieve - but she is yet to accomplish anything along the lines of extra limbs, tentacles, or greater eruptions of bone and/or muscle. Additionally, her powers are yet to afford her any durability or physical enhancements beyond her 'accessories'.

| BIOGRAPHY: |
  • Born to a loving, if conservative, mother and father in small town Massachusetts, Penelope lead a smiple childhood, with no sisters but many cousins, and a forced sense of community with the town. She was happy, if stifled, and generally enjoyed good weather, large social circles, and education - though she felt great shame at the state's sordid history with the red frenxy of the withc hunts.
  • Penelope's X-Gene first became active at 14, when, during dinner one Thursday, Penelope sprouted three extra eyes on her forehead and cheeks, frightening her parents with her new appearance and frightening Penelope with the sudden new vision. Dinner was cancelled as she lost the eyes and gained her first experience of the polarised public view on mutants: her mother cast all doubt aside, immediately accepting Penelope for what she had always been born to be - her father called her and her mother a variety of disgusting slurs, and left.
  • Penelope kept her powers hidden as much she could; she worked hard on consciously suppressing the transformations, and wore long, baggy clothing to help hide the times she couldn't. However, over the years, it seemed that suppressing her abilities were only aggravating them, as her 'accessories' became grander and more frequent. Eventually, her mother couldn't bare the thought of Penelope's safety at home being compromised any longer. Penelope packed, and took the first bus to Xavier's on the dawn of her 17th birthday. She's been there since.

| MISC. NOTES: |
Probably Monster these days. The yellow one.
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| NAME(S): |
Abelle D'Voire ​

| NICKNAME(S): |
Belle​

| ALIAS(ES): |
Swarm​

| D.O.B.:|
07/18/1993

| AGE: |
22

| SEX: |
Female. She/Her//They/Them

| SEXUALITY: |
Heterosexual

| APPEARANCE: |
Belle stands 5'11 (relatively tall for her nature) with seemingly-unnatural long, slender limbs that threaten to be lanky but are instead co-ordinated into smooth, graceful motion. She weighs an ethereal 100lbs, has pale green eyes that almost seem amber in the right light, her hair turns a dark brown if she lets it grow out - not that it's been past its usual grade-1 buzzcut in 3 years - and her wide nose has a ring piercing through one of the nostrils. All of her quirks combined, along with her wide-set eyes, give Belle a kind of alien beauty that entrances some and repels others. She swings between light, natural-esque makeup or heavy, dark eyes and lips, and her clothing aligns similarly, but always seems well-constructed and cutting-edge.​

| ABILITIES/SKILLS: |

Abilities;
  • Pheromone-based Insect Manipulation - Belle is able to secrete specific pheromones from the sweat pores of her body, creating an invisible beacon for all manner of insect, crustacean, and arachnid life to come crawling out of nooks and crannies of the world to seek the source - inevitable finding Belle herself - and then await further instruction. Belle's variety of pheromones are subtle enough in their distinctions to almost emulate telekinetic control, but in truth, Belle is simply signalling certain instinctual impulses in the swarms she can amass, which can range from complete aggression to total pacifism to absolute retreat.

    The uses of her swarm are only limited by Belle's imagination, and her willingness to test the limits of her pheromone control. Only time will tell whether Belle's abilities will develop any unexpected advancements, or if her pheromones are limited only to bug-specific signals.

Applications;
  • Offense: Belle's swarms can involve wasps, hornets, various venomous species of spiders, scorpions, and flies with unpleasant behaviors. Utilizing her swarm to attack her enemies can leave opponents with various manners of life-threatening bites, stings, and...burrowings.
  • Evasion: While not immediately obvious, Belle's swarms can have some utiliy applications. Bugs crawling all over a camera, or blocking a window, can allow surreptitious movement, while an eventual advanced technique will allow Belle to envelop herself in her swam before making a quick step - a simple movement, but a short-distance pseudo-blink that can throw off an unobservant opponent.
  • Ecological: While some uses are far more mundane, they are no less useful: Belle's pheromones allow her to dictate a lot of the local insect behaviour, and she can use this to encourage particular growths and ecology shifts - change or creat hive locations, dispel or seed infestations, aid or cease breeding of certain species - and use this to both her advantage via large-scale territory control, and the local wildlife's via feeding and pollination.

Limitations;
  • Swarm Source: Belle cannot produce bugs, nor does she keep her pheromones in a permanent 'on-state', as this would lead to a bigger swarm than she can control, as well as massive ecosystem instability and a negative public reaction when she arrives on-campus with half a city's worth of bugs trailing behind her. As a result, Belle must preempt a situation in which a swarm will serve her, and then carefully amass such a hive with selective pheromones while also ensuring she does not let the size run amok. If there are no bugs in the immediate vicinity, Belle will have to wait longer and try harder to reach out further, and if there are no bugs at all, Belle will have no swarm.
  • Swarm Size: As mentioned above, the larger Belle's current swarm, the more difficult it is to maintain pinpoint control as is possible with a smaller group. While she can use the swarm itself to proliferate her pheromones within itself for increased efficiency, the larger the swarm is, the more likely it becomes for sections of it to break away as the rest of it receives new or different instructions, resulting in a large chunk loss as half of the swarm begins leaving or even in-fighting due to the many different species of insect that can be co-habiting one of Belle's swarms at any given time. As such, Belle's pheromone control is a careful knife-edge game - enough to create a swarm and then make it large enough to allow it to govern itself, but not so big as to implode itself. It is far too easy for Belle to simply leave a pheromone lingering for too long, and a swarm to disappear as quickly as it arrived.

Weaknesses;
  • Instinct Override: Despite Belle's pheromones, her control is not infallible. Strong enough instinctual responses in the insects that make up her swarm can override any existing pheromone commands and cause the insects to revert to their nature; as such, strong fear, hunger, or mating impulses can destabilize a swarm entirely.
  • Insect Biology: The insects that make up Belle's swarms are just that: insects. While, in large numbers and under Belle's command, they are capable of inspiring fear and causing lasting damage to Belle's enemies, they are still subject to the frailty of their forms - any method that would normally disperse a large cluster of insects will work equally well against Belle's swarms.

| BACKSTORY: |
Belle remembers very little of her childhood, and the fleeting snatches of imagery she does hold are all the same; clinical, white expanses of beds and linoleum floors, corridors alternating between concerned doctors and nurses and concerned sick people, some worse than others, many better off than Belle. She was born in Paris, France, and was out of hospital for eight months before she returned - according to her parents, they were the best eight months Paris had ever seen.

Belle was born with a debilitating neuro-degenerative condition that began to manifest a lot earlier than any pre-natal (or post-natal, for that matter) doctor had been able to predict at any point during her mother's term; doctors had given Belle five un-impeded years. She had lasted less than one. Grief-stricken and desperate for any help they could seize for their dying baby daughter, her parents quickly signed away Belle to an experimental trial run in by US Scientists. The D'Voire, minimal as it was, left its roots behind in favour of Belle's last gasp in America.

Belle's parents landed a week and four days after Belle had been taken to America, three days after she had been subjected to the first phase of the trial that was to save her life. Her parents had been given surprisingly little information about what the treatment entailed, but after they had been settled in to their new home, and their daughter had been returned to them, they were fully briefed on the trial. The few participants that had been selected had been given a treatment course of genetically altered genome tags that had originally belonged to a small selection of insects, which had been chosen for specific properties their species possessed that could possibly treat - or cure - the conditions of the trial's patients. It was a long shot, the scientists involved hoping that the tags would bind to the faulty DNA of the patients and fix - or override - the imperfect processes that caused the condition, but over several months, the treatment worked. Belle got better. Her parents counted their blessings, and began to move on with their lives. A long time later, Belle would inquire about the laboratories she had frequented during her initial years.

Belle's life after her initial crisis was relatively normal. Her parents were terrified of any illness, paranoid they would undo the treatment that had made her well, or introduce another problem that they would not be able to surmount; but Belle carried on through pre-adolescence into post-puberty with no troubling health issues, taking a keen interest in nature and insects in particular after learning of her condition and its cure. To this end, she eventually moved across states to Larissa at 19 to study at the college there, interested in the citie's history of flirtation with super-individuals, and attracted by the premium course they offered in Entomology. She now lives with two other students in The Sound.

Recently, Belle has been feeling something peculiar shifting within her body, though she isn't sure what.

| MOTIVATION/OBJECTIVE: |
Belle desires to know and control her body and mind, commanding all aspects to the deepest level of understanding in order to conquer the condition that plagued her in her early life, and it's unusual cure that has left her body marked in unseen ways. Experimentation and practice with her powers will encourage her first foray into vigilantism, and she imagines the sheer thrill will take it forwards from there.

| REFERENCE POST(S): |

| NOTES: |
  • You like characters (therefore you like me).
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