[i]WIP[/i] [hider=Nadya/The Tailor] [indent] [b]Full Name[/b]: Nadezhda Ivanovna Portnova. She often goes by Nadya or Nadia, but she is called Nadyushenka only by her intimate friends. [b]Alias[/b]: The Tailor [b]Age[/b]: 31 [b]Powers[/b]: [i]Textile Transformation[/i] — A natural talent with fabrics, Nadya can transform any piece of cloth that she touches. She can make pieces of cloth stronger and more resistant to damage. She can alter the fundamental properties of a material, making combustible materials fireproof or transforming a cotton vest into an electrically conductive death trap. She can modify the weight of cloth, turning the lightest sports jacket into a burden on not just your wallet but your shoulders. She can shift the color of a fabric, allowing for unparalleled kaleidoscopic variety and reducing the quantity of clothes she has to keep in her closet in order to remain chromatically unpredictable. Even the size of a textile can be adjusted with a brush of her nimble fingers, allowing her to stretch thread as needed. Her powers are limited in scope and range. The greater the change the longer it takes for Nadya to change a fabric and the more focus or effort it requires on her part. [i]Textile Telekinesis[/i] — Nadya is capable of a limited form of telekinesis based on physical contact, controlling fabric with her mind via touch. Sock puppets are downright vicious in her hands. [i]Vision in Cloth[/i] — By focusing all of her attention on a particular piece of torn cloth in her possession, Nadya can perceive the surroundings of the "twin" piece of this fabric (discerning sights and sound in a close radius to the lost bit of cloth), contributing to her success in the lucrative field of corporate espionage. [b]Weaknesses[/b]: — — — [b]Appearance[/b]: Average in stature, Nadya does her best not to stand out in public. Clashing with this primary goal, Nadya is particularly fond of the color blue and she perpetually keeps her hair dyed a shade of cobalt. However, ever the pragmatist, she prefers to keep her hair shoulder length or shorter. She has blue eyes, deep pools of cerulean, full of caution and carefully controlled thoughts. A friend of the sun and being outside, Nadya while a bit pale thanks to genetics, has a healthy color to her skin and it's hard to imagine she spent her formative years dancing beneath neon lights in abandoned warehouses. The victim of a highly aggressive sewing machine, Nadya has a gnarly scar on her right hand, a constant reminder of her long since vanquished foe. Any tattoos that Nadya may or may not have are strictly for private viewing. Fond of exercise and fonder still of surviving on one too many cupcakes, Nadya takes care to remain in good shape, being well-aware that success is sometimes best measured in how fast you can run a mile or how many pull-ups you can manage. [i]Typical Clothing:[/i] Old habits die hard and Nadya is still a tailor at heart. She owns a seemingly endless variety of bespoke clothing. Donning elaborate dresses, fancy skirts, sharp blouses, detailed black jeans, and even the occasional slim fitting suit. Curiously, Nadya always, always wears a long scarf or fashionable tie around her neck. Canvas sneakers fill Nadya with joy, but she'll wear more formal shoes as required. Tragically, high heels will necessitate a sizable bribe or serious threats of bodily harm. [i]Costumed Appearance:[/i] As the Tailor, Nadya wraps herself in swirling layers of cloth that dance across her form. Her body is shrouded by mysterious black fibers that protect her from from cuts, abrasions, and heat. To avoid identification, her head is veiled by a measure of similar fabric that hides the entirety of her face. A long hooded cloak envelopes Nadya in a final fold of fabric. Imbued with her powers over a great length of time, these fabrics are remarkably flexible and resilient even when removed from Nadya's presence. [b]Equipment[/b]: [i]Needle[/i] — Always prepared for trouble Nadya never leaves home without having a needle on her person. [i]Fine Thread[/i] — Nadya carries several meters worth of thread wrapped tightly around her arms. These fibers provide additional material for her to weaponize with her powers. [b]Origin[/b]: [hider=I] Born free, beyond the grasp of the Mega-Corps, in the ruins of a city the corporations had almost, almost forgotten, Nadya had an uneventful and even happy childhood, at least compared to most others living on the fringes of the corporate world. The city of Saint Petersburg, once one of the greatest cities in the world, had been reduced to rubble in the last great war of the Mega-Corporations. However, life finds a way and from the ashes of the once proud city, a new, smaller, but more efficient city arose. A city of few heroes and many villains, a city ruled by corrupt politicians, the puppets of the criminal organizations which had taken over in the absence of any functioning government, establishing a veritable pirate haven in the new corporate era, a city state of vice and crime that soon dominated the Baltic Sea. Life in this new city, although possible, was not easy, crime was merely another part of life, and death was never far away. Still, people made due, and found ways to make a living. Nadya's parents owned a small textile business that they operated out of a worn-down warehouse that had seen much better days, profits were uncertain, bribes owed for protection were high, but compared to many, the small family lived well-enough. Benefiting from a rudimentary education, far above the standards of the Edge, Nadya grew into a clever young woman. Gifted with nimble fingers and an eye for detail, she took to sewing at an early age and found the ancient profession of the tailor to her liking. Driven by ambition and a desire to live beyond the careful, but frugal life her parents had ensure for her and her siblings, Nadya struck out on her own, renting out a small apartment, which she soon filled with fabric of all colors, attractive and functional, intended for the fashionable and for the denizens of the shadows. Nadya's problems began as her business faltered, following the unfortunate and very suspicious loss of a shipment of poly-paraphenylene terephthalamide thread. Having failed to deliver a sizable sum of very particular sets of woven armor, Nadya discovered that she owed a noteworthy debt to all the wrong people, the sort of people that made other people disappear, and the very sort of people her parents had always told her to avoid. A series of increasingly uncomfortable encounters with elements of the Russian mafia followed and ended with a cloth garrote wrapped around the young tailor's neck, slowly robbing her of the ability to breathe as darkness overwhelmed her... [/hider] [hider=II] "So, how'd you get your powers?" "That's a very rude question to ask, Nails," Nadya replied, a slight smile playing across her face. "Well, cut me some slack this time," the former soldier turned mercenary replied, a rasping cough shaking his large form. "It's not like you are going to let me walk away this time." "No, I'm afraid I can't." "End of the line, huh?" "Yes." Withdrawing a cigarette and lighter from a pocket in his coat, Nails spat out blood with a laugh. Putting the cigarette in his mouth, he flicked the lighter opening, showing an impressive amount of control, given the damage his body had taken. The flame of the lighter did not take, however, and with a low curse, it fell from his fumbling hands. Nadya could only presume his limbs were rapidly growing numb. The blood seeping through his flak jacket suggested it was only a matter of time. Moving closer, Nadya picked up the lighter, bringing it closer to the soldier's cigarette, and lighting it in a fluid motion. "Thanks, kid." Beneath her mask Nadya simply nodded, taking a seat next to other contractor, her back resting against the cold cement wall. Taking a long drag from his cigarette, Nails smiled, letting out a satisfied sigh, before removing his mask. He was younger than Nadya had thought, perhaps in his early forties, but no more. Removing her own mask, Nadya took the cigarette from Nails, pulling gently, and breathing out a cloud of smoke, before placing the cigarette back between his lips. "What's it been, two years?" "Something like that." "First time I've seen your face, and you know, you don't look half bad, Tailor." "I could say the same, Nails," Nadya replied managing a smile that wasn't quite as sad as she felt. "P-Paul, it's Paul," Nails rasped, coughing again. "Nadya," the young woman answered. "Right, always figured you for a Nadya." "Of course." "So..." "It was nothing special. How do you say? Just my first time...almost dying," Nadya said with an impish grin. "Hey, just tell me you didn't get stabbed with a bunch of nails, that was a hella of a way to get some super powers, let me tell you..." "I don't remember much...just that I was working late. I was at my desk, working on some spiderweave armor, some up-and-coming gangster type had ordered it, rush job, I needed the money so I took it. The chemicals that lined the fibers were new, state-of-the-art. Practically magic. I remember the way they felt running over my hands as I worked with my needle. Then I remember a sound, someone was at the front door...and then...I found I couldn't breathe, there was a cord around my neck, it hurt, it hurt so much, and I saw only darkness." "Garrote, classic, you must have pissed off some serious people." "Rossiyskaya mafiya. Russian mafia. They were apparently quite displeased with my inability to pay my debts." "Always pay your debts, my friend." "Certainly...that was my intention." "Alright, so you were about to be offed by some mafia hitman, what happened?" "It was strange, Paul, as I struggled for breath, I felt a growing connection with the fabric in my workshop, the string on the table felt alive, as familiar to me as my own skin...and then...as if guided by my will, the spool of spiderweave unwound, it struck my assailant with a loud thud, far heavier than string should cause, and then it wrapped around his neck...before promptly removing his head from his body. It had become a strange metal, stronger than anything I had encountered before." Paul laughed slightly, passing the cigarette back to Nadya, "You know, I never figured you were actually a tailor." "You never asked," Nadya replied, taking another drag from the rapidly diminishing cigarette, before she gently returned it to Nails. "Are you ready?" "Sure, just not the face, huh? I'd like to have my ugly mug grace the digital publications just one last time. For old time's sake." [/hider] [hider=III] Coined a murderer and judged a villain, Nadya fled before the corrupt authorities could capture her. Purchasing a new name and an American passport she made her way to the United States. In the New World she shed her past, embraced her new powers, and vanished into the shadows of the real. No longer the mild-mannered tailor that she had been, Nadya pursued a new vocation. A specialist with a gift for discretion and tradecraft, she cultivated a reputation as a problem solver. She became a contractor, completing dirty work for corporations, governments, wealthy individuals, and even organized crime syndicates. Working her way along the Eastern seaboard Nadya eventually made her way to Cedar Fort. Beneath the neon lights of the sprawling city she found a new purpose. Money did not matter. Fame did not matter. Laws did not matter. All that mattered was justice. Only results mattered. Emerging from the shadows, Nadya struck at the corrupted heart of the city with surgical precision. Always more of a vigilante than a hero, Nadya maintained a frosty relationship with the authorities that descended into violence. The masked vigilante known as the Tailor is wanted for multiple counts of assault, kidnapping, and murder. Encounters between Nadya and the Cedar Fort PD have resulted in extensive collateral damage and casualties. Subject is wanted for wanted for multiple counts of assault, kidnapping, and murder. Information has been passed on to Interpol [/hider] [i][WIP][/i]: Becomes a vigilante. Ends up teaming up with Hex for a bit. It all goes to shit. She ends up leaving the team. Hangs up her costume. Summoned by an encrypted message and an old debt, Nadya has returned to Cedar Fort. In a hidden compartment in her briefcase she carries her old suit. It is time to step back into the cold, for Hex. [b]Personality[/b]: Nadya is detail oriented, bordering on obsessive, with a penchant for creativity, both in craftsmanship and in her work. She is thoughtful, cautious, and exceedingly patient, having little interest in rushing a job or being unprepared. A consummate professional, she has a mercenary mentality well-suited for life as a corporate spy. She prefers to keep things simple, avoiding thoughts about the morality of a job or the consequences of her actions. Of a sound, mental mind, Nadya is simply very good at compartmentalizing her feelings, and separating her self from her job. Violence is a tool, but not a tool she uses lightly, and if given a choice Nadya would prefer to accomplish small acts of good rather than harm. In private, Nadya is friendly, if understandably slow to open up. However, she is happy to share a noncommittal drink, some food, and a light conversation. [b]Misc Facts[/b]: [b]Relationship with Hex[/b]: Nadya fought together with Hex as a member of an ill-fated attempt at assembling a team of superheroes to combat the rising tide of crime that threatened to overwhelm Cedar Fort. Parting on poor terms, Nadya nonetheless remembers her time with Hex fondly.[/indent][/hider]