[hider=Psychomachia][center][h3][b]Psychomachia[/b][/h3]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/2CFWblk.png[/img][/center]
[b]Name:[/b] Christopher Fan
[b]Alias:[/b] Psychomachia
[b]Age:[/b] 24
[b]Alignment:[/b] Hero
[b]Loyalty:[/b] Independent
[b]Appearance:[/b] Christopher Fan is a man of Chinese descent, standing at a lean and wiry 5’11”. He is noticeably fit and carries the slight traces of regiment and hardened muscle (mostly in his legs, as he is primarily a runner). Bespectacled and pale, his features are softer despite his narrow-ish face, and typically composed in a quiet stoicism. He is mostly non-descript in appearance and garb (preferring plain t-shirts of muted tone), save for his hair, which is an abrasively bleached blonde. Long story, but he seems strangely fond of it. 

His costume isn’t really much in the way of functionality, given his lack of experience, and thus connections to skilled tailors. Never a man for aesthetics, his current choice of costume is obnoxiously overt and disgustingly incongruent (both in regards to its constituent pieces, and his cape name/supposed theme) - he dresses in a suit of yellow, with a cheap mask meant to evoke the red and ridiculous face of the Tengu. 

[b]History:[/b] Christopher was born in Aurora, Colorado, a fact stemming more from careful deliberation than happenstance. His parents, eagerly expecting their first child, had wished to leverage the reputable Cherry Creek school district, foreseeing - for it was with such passion that they wished for it - that their child would become someone [i]great[/i]. Pointedly, the words ‘doctor’ or ‘pharmacist’ were never uttered verbatim, but Chris Fan was a child who exited utero with ‘expectation’ as a close companion. 

Nature and nurture alike conspired to set him upon the course mother and father had wished for him. A bookish, introverted child, he was as studious as he was eminently alone. Throughout his formative years, he could hear the voices of his parents urging him to excellence labelled as mere adequacy, as well as the jeers of his schoolmates, who perceived quiet, scholarly dispositions as anathemic. Inevitably, the former would drown out the latter, and familial approval became a sustenance as crucial as food and drink. 

It had been his little brother’s tenth birthday when the suite of university acceptances had arrived. Christopher recalled, with some fondness, the manner in which his brother’s existence had been more or less forgotten for the day, the shadow of his own accomplishments stretching over it. He enrolled as a business student at UC Berkeley, and thus did his life [i]peak[/i]. 

He found, to his shock, that his newfound college environment was unforgiving. Surrounded by peers and colleagues as, if not more so, talented and studious as he was, and faced with the exponentially more challenging criteria, he found that he was folding. Time and space, too, isolated him from his familial support system, and helped shine a light upon an undeniable truth; they were wrong, and he wouldn’t become someone great, and he wasn’t special. And yet, he knew, he had become irreversibly bound - addicted - to the support, respect and the semblance of [i]that[/i] delusion he gleaned from his proud family. 

When he was spit out from the jaws of UC Berkeley as a failure, he lost that forever. He enrolled the next year, at the University of Denver, closer to home yet irrevocably estranged from his family, who had set their sights upon grooming his brother. 

To fill the void, Christopher - now more acclimated to university rigors - took to tutoring others, serving as ‘study-buddy’ for his peers. The endeavors mostly failed to sate him, transient and ephemeral encounters that were simply singular means to an end. That changed when he met Robert, a student as chained to crippling failure and ruined expectation as he had been. He too had found his first stint at university an abject disaster, yet spoke with great optimism about his future, the tech-start-up he envisioned once he graduated here. Chris thought it almost aspirational. 

Over the next year or so, the two found that they were bound, although they were not particularly good influences upon one another; Robert pushed Christopher to less ethical behavior, while Chris enabled Robert’s slacker tendencies. To Christopher’s lament, however, was his self-awareness, his knowledge that their partnership was incongruent. He was markedly more adept at his studies, and offered much while Robert offered little. 

It began with Robert feigning sickness, and requesting that Chris take notes for him and bring him up to speed - eventually, it was no longer a matter of notes, but a matter of projects, research papers, and exam answers hastily written while Robert’s prying eye looked on. His every apprehension would be met by counters and ripostes as simple as a “come on, dude” that sparked a guilty feeling, and his caving-in. 

Despite his apprehensions, life proceeded mostly uneventfully, until one day he received an email from his school’s Academic Committee, written somber and severe. He had barely made it past the subtitle before he heard Robert’s voice. 

He was getting expelled, he had said, for plagiarism. Furthermore, he had apologized; for giving him up, for admitting that he had wrote the various papers for him. 

Chris had wanted to know the ‘why’ of it’. Why betray him if he was already expelled? 

“I told you… about my idea, the start-up. You’re a smart guy. I wanted your help with it.”

How had he found himself there, in front of the screen with the ominous e-mail, Robert's almost casual bluster in his ear? How did it transpire that he was chained to this [i]dolt[/i], and how had he allowed it for this long? He could feel the fucking moron gazing at him, expectant, as if this were the way of things, and that he would just have to go along with it. No. Not like this. He felt his legs rise from beneath him and carry him as he stood, before they turned to jelly with the realization that it was too late. He [i]fucked[/i] him.

Chris triggered.

[hr]
Months after his trigger event, degreeless Christopher Fan decided he’d try his hand at capework. He knows that no part of his desire is driven by altruism or ‘heroism’. 

He’s an addict for approval. 

[center][h3][b]Personality[/b][/h3][/center]
[b]Motivations:[/b] Simply put, his primary goal is to obtain approval, acceptance and - most importantly - acknowledgement. On a somewhat deeper level, Christopher is quite cognizant and self-aware of these driving needs, and will at times act in ways that are explorational; minor attempts to see if he can wean himself off this mindset. 
[b]Sexuality:[/b] Homosexual
[b]Likes:[/b] [list][*]Compliments
[*]Technology
[*]Spicy Food
[*]Mascots[/list]
[b]Dislikes:[/b] [list][*]Others in the Spotlight
[*]Heckling
[*]Failure
[*]Being Ignored
[*]Having it pointed out that his cape name sounds distinctly villainous.[/list]
[b]Derangement:[/b] Christopher thinks and mentally reacts to stimuli in triplicate, three internal dialogues within him - the first is his natural pre-trigger thought process, while the second is a relatively supportive, benevolent (although stringent and rigid) offshoot, with the third being mostly negative, dark, mischievous and unethical, if fairly breezy and nonchalant. 

[center][h3][b]Parahumanism[/b][/h3][/center]
[b]Skills:[/b] Excellent memory, in fine physical condition if not particularly well-honed (more fit than athletic), well-versed in financial, accounting and economics-based academia.
[b]Classification:[/b] Master, Mover
[b]Details:[/b] Psychomachia has fine control over two nimbly floating beings (henceforth referred to as ‘familiars’ because why not) that appear to be shrunken versions of himself, made compact, budgy and squashed into a 6inx6inx6in body. They manifest (or de-manifest) seemingly at will, and are capable of reaching speeds comparable to the average bird in flight. He is furthermore able to perceive through the five senses of these familiars, as well as speak through them (their voices are high-pitched, reminiscent of the classical helium trope).

Psychomachia is able to remotely take the place of the familiars. The process involves the chosen familiar growing out to his proportions to serve as his body, while his former body shrinks to serve as a familiar. It is not important for Psychomachia to be in his original body when the familiars are de-manifested.  

[b]Limitations:[/b] Psychomachia is only able to perceive through the senses of one familiar at a time, and is also not privy to his own senses while this is being done. 

Psychomachia is only able to take the place of familiars that he can perceive (either familiars that he can see, be it directly or through a medium, or a familiar that he is currently sensing through). The process itself, however, is rapid.

While the familiars seem unaffected by damage, their movements and senses can be hindered in most of the usual ways.  

[i]Further Addendums/Clarifications following Discord chat[/i]:

- Familiars, as a constant, are manifested above his shoulders, one each.
- Clarification regarding indestructibility: to paraphrase 'Kinky Dong' "soft with little inertia and can't be pierced or torn".
[b]Equipment:[/b] Not particularly.[/hider]