[center][b][color=92278f]Overclock/Male/24/Hero
Graves apartment/Kings Station/2:45 AM[/color][/b][/center]

Jon Graves started awake as his phone buzzed off the short nightstand to fall to the floor. Swearing under his breath, Jon grabbed the offending device and turned off the alarm. Squinting into the darkness, the young man sat up on his mattress, sighing as he looked out the window to the low light of the dead-of-night city. No stars tonight. Weatherman said it might rain. No matter. There was work to do.

Reaching over to a nearby charging port, Jon unhooked his prosthetic arm from the charger and began to affix it to his stump. The advanced prosthetic had been a gift from the surgeon who had worked on Jon after the accident; upon hearing their family's financial situation the doctor had set up a fund so that Jon could afford prosthetics when he needed them. Upon the young man's decision to embark upon this nighttime life of vigilantism, Jon had emptied the fund and bought the most advanced arm available. He'd needed the best tools. Finally finished, Jon flexed his mechanical fingers and stood up, kicking his mattress aside to get at the supplies underneath.

A set of dark clothes, a purple bandana wrapped around his face, and a dark purple hoodie later, Overclock lit his desk lamp and checked himself in his mirror. The only remarkable feature left were his icy blue eyes. Slipping on his black boots, Overclock patted his hoodie pocket to confirm his staff was folded down and stored away. Finally he stood up, pulling on a single black glove over his flesh-hand before moving to his window and stepping out onto the fire escape. 

Looking down at the alley below, Overclock sighed as he stretched his arms. Time to crack some skulls till the sun came up, then to sneak back home and get ready for the office life. But for now... Now he could do whatever he wanted.

Overclock stepped off the edge of the fire escape into open air.

Twisting and tumbling through the air, Overclock grinned as he felt the wind sting his eyes. Flipping over quickly, he landed on his feet in the alley below, feeling his muscles suddenly charge with absorbed energy. Chuckling to himself, the young man sprinted out of the alley, heading for the line between King and Ross, his job for the night to keep his block safe from the gangs and drugs bleeding over from the slums...