Name: Atsushi Fukuda

Alias: N/A....?

Nicknames: Director, Fukuda-San (by some of his staff he's more personal with)

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Personality: Atsushi has the kind of personality that rubs higher-ups the wrong way; where they would prefer secrecy and subtlety, he prefers being upfront and brutally honest, in a business where, truth be told, deceptions are the norm. Not to say he won't, because he's also a smart enough man to recognize some necessity in the system...But he doesn't budge when he can afford not to, and won't hesitate to handle things his way when given the chance. He fully believes all the bureaucratic bullshit is nothing more than that. Bullshit. Sadly, it's the kinda bullshit you can't just wipe off clean and good as new. Something had to change....But for now, this status quo would need to stick.

Beyond the business aspects of things, Fukuda prefers to be as amicable as possible with those he interacts with. Not always because he actually likes or appreciates these individuals; in fact, more often than not, that certainly isn't the case. However, he finds it easier to play nice and not start shit when he can help it. This even extends to violent situations, where he'd rather turn to his words over full-blown combat...And for some reason, you can get the sense from him that it isn't because he can't hold his own. It's a courtesy.

Overall, Fukuda-San might not be the kindest authority figure, but he knows how to extend an olive branch, and he wants to. You'd be surprised how rare that can be amongst those in power...And ultimately, while he might snark or groan, he has high hopes for The Wards Initiative. After all, he's the one that pitched it. Though he can't claim he fully anticipated being the one to head it...

Appearance: Atsushi tries to keep his look professional, even if his attitude usually isn't. He wears a sleek black suit, on which he typically keeps a PRT badge pinned on the side, and underneath that is a crisp white dress shirt, long-sleeved and perfectly ironed. His dark red tie, a bit out of shape from years of use, is a token from his days back in Japan, and he wears it anywhere he goes. His pants are a matching shade of black to his suit, and he normally wears field-ready brown boots. Perhaps in the hopes he can get out of the office work from time to time...

During colder days, he opts for a fairly puffy black coat and a pair of snow boots; wintertime gets pretty awful down in Redline, truth be told.

Physically speaking, Fukuda appears to be a fairly unassuming Japanese man, standing at roughly 5'9 and weighing barely 140 lbs., he doesn't look the most intimidating or tough. Kind of a string bean, almost, but those who can catch details can tell that in spite of first appearances, he's well-trained and tougher than he looks. Beyond that, he has a mess of brown hair that he clearly doesn't put too much thought or effort into, and steely grey eyes that can come off as equal parts intimidating and unassuming. His skin tone's gotten a bit pale, but that's to be expected being stuck behind a desk for nearly two years.

Biography: Atsushi Fukuda's life story...Isn't what you're getting here. What you need to know is that he's a man whose been through plenty of shit and come out on top or at least alive in order to be here. While his attitude might give you the wrong impression, he's a man whose earned a lot of respect for his work, even if most of it is widely unknown by the public, prior to him becoming the Director of Redline's PRT. And after becoming the Director, he's got a lot of big plans in mind, both for the PRT at large, Redline, and even Capes in general, if he can get his way without crashing and burning.

Thus, The Wards Initiative.

The quantity, not even mentioning quality, of Hero Capes has slowly been going down, while villains keep digging their way from the woodworks. Something had to change....And Fukuda offered an answer. It's common for most Capes to have their Trigger Events when they're younger, and without proper guidance or watch, they're bound to strike off on their own and eventually end up on the wrong side of the law. This Initiative could change that; take young Capes and help mold them into the upstanding figures they could become! Or at the very least, get some vigilantes and...Vaguely reasonable youthful super-crooks under wraps. 'Course, when he made the pitch, Fukuda didn't count on being the guy having to manage all these munchkins...But sometimes, ya deal with the hand you're dealt. This is one of those times.

Now, let's see if he can get these brats into fighting shape...

Powers/Skills:

[REDACTED]

• Atsushi has experience in spades, both as a field combatant and an off-field director.
• In spite of his build, he's well-trained in a few forms of martial arts and quite physically capable.
• Fukuda seems to possess a natural mind for stratagem and foreseeing potential outcomes. No doubt some of the qualities that landed him this position.
• His marksmanship is top-notch, even if he rarely has reason to put that into practice.
• Fukuda-San is very skilled with reading individuals; perhaps the main reason they chose him to head this Initiative.

Other: Atsushi has a hobby of buying guns, and appreciates being able to take them apart and admire the craftsmanship before putting it back together, sometimes with his own little touches. Not a Tinker by far though, just something he does for fun.

Name: Andrew Bennett

Alias: Hope.

Nicknames: Hope.

Age: 14

Gender: Male

Personality: Well-read, but lacking formal education. Knowledgeable of many things, but not social niceties. And of course, with a predilection for gluttony, making sure that every bit of food is eaten and every edible drink is drunk. This gluttony extends to knowledge as well; he wants to know more and more and more, reading every book and label and manual he can unless it's in a language he does not understand.

Surprisingly, he lacks obvious evidence of mental scars, something he is quick to reassure his teammates hides evidence of deeper trauma. After all, he would state, he was born poor and underprivileged and he had Powers. Of course, he Triggered like the rest of them!

Appearance: For his civilian appearance, Andrew regularly uses his stipend from The Wards to buy the trendiest civilian clothing possible, with a preference for blue and white shirts and jackets. He also reveals his natural hair color, which is brown.

As a Cape, Andrew uses his powers to turn his hair silver, because he thought it was cool. He also prefers the costume shown in his picture, because he likes it.

Biography: Andrew was deposited in an orphanage close to a Public Library. It was an orphanage of love, of warm food and light and a constantly burning fire in the winter. It was beautiful and musical and it was all he could want. Not just that, but the Public Library was close enough that even at a young age, he can cross over with minimal adult supervision and lose himself in the books for hours. He was intelligent, precocious, and it was clear that someone was going to adopt him after a while. However, he always insisted to his prospective parents that they pick another kid or set of kids first; they needed it more than he did.

This continued until he was past the normal age for adoption, but the boy had already resolved to work at the orphanage he lived in to take care of other children. Then one day, a person who came to adopt one of his friends dropped a suitcase after leaving in a hurry, and Andrew resolved to return it once the person came back... Only to find some of the younger kids have picked the locks, searching for candy.

After scolding the children, Andrew glanced through the suitcase's contents and found papers and a strange vial inside; some of the former in English. Reading quickly through them, he grasped enough to know that the vial was an illegal compound intended to be tested on the kid who was going to be 'adopted' by that man. More importantly, it was a vial that was likely to turn a person into a monster or give them a strong Power; whichever was more likely.

Rage filled the boy. As the 'adopter's' car returned to the parking lot, Andrew opened the vial and drank its contents without hesitation. If the man wanted to turn his friend into a test subject under the guise of adoption, he had another thing coming!

The man burst into his room as he doubled over in pain. Then blue light filled the area, and Andrew faced the fraud who was going to prey on his friend and prepared for a confrontation.

No one knew what happened after that, but some days later, Andrew arrived at the nearest PRT office, saying that he had heard about the budding 'Wards' initiative and that he had powers and wanted to join...

Powers/Skills:

Andrew is reasonably well-read and knowledgable, with a special focus on history and fantasy literature. He is also being taught how to fight with swords, guns, and strangely, axes; this training has made him athletic.

Hope Manipulation (Trump/Shaker/Master 8) - Andrew/Hope draws from his own Hope and the ambient hope of everyone within 50 meters of him in order to create a number of effects that cover every other Class of Power, including energy blasts, force-fields, energy constructs, flight, cellular regeneration, and material alteration.

The Drawback of this? This is Worm we're talking about; the world is crapsack and his teammates have strong traumas and the mental issues those cause, meaning that they might not be interested in hoping for a better future. Also, prolonged use (1 to 2 hours) depletes his hope and the hope of others, eventually sapping their will to live and rendering them catatonic and zombie-like if they don't commit suicide.

Lack of hope and excessive use of his powers can shorten this period further.

Sub Powers: These classifications assume an average level of hope in the affected area.

• Energy Blasts (Blaster 6): Blue energy blasts of manually variable power capable of knocking a person off their feet and inflicting mild burns or blasting through unprotected flesh and punching straight through steel. These can be thrown as simple blasts or sustained beams.
• Energy Shields (Shaker 6): Semi-transparent energy shields capable of halting a speeding car in its tracks with only moderate strain. Though, something as heavy and solid as a speeding armored truck will likely shatter them. Shields can be formed up to 2 meters away from himself, large enough to englobe him and anyone close enough to fit inside as well. The shields can be shaped somewhat but are always spheroid or semi-spheroid.
• Energy Constructs (Master 2-?): Energy that can be shaped into tools, weapons, or small structures like miniature bridges that are as durable as titanium alloy unless specified otherwise. Can be as small as a screw or as large as a truck. However, the major caveat is that he must actually know how to physically build what he summons. For every object, he must have the theoretical blueprints for dedicated to memory. Technically, he could make anything, but advanced electronics and Tinkertech are far outside his reach. The more complicated the object, the more energy and concentration are required to create it. The most complicated thing he has managed to make with it so far is a wheelbarrow, but this power will only grow in utility and menace with time and study.
• Flight (Mover 4/Breaker 1): Andrew can fly up to the speed of a small civilian helicopter, and his body is protected from the air resistance and friction of moving by his own power.
• Cellular Regeneration (Brute/Striker 5): Andrew can heal his own injuries, even loss of limbs, and heal the same in others as well. He can also purge poisons and diseases and even rewrite another person's genetic disorders out of their DNA. However, he needs to touch the person being healed, concentrate his attention on them, and it costs a lot of energy.
• Material Alteration (Striker/Changer/Stranger 2): Andrew can change the color, shape, and appearance of his clothing and any items he directly touches, but he cannot increase their durability; this means that he needs normal armor to protect his body, which The Wards provide. The changes are permanent but can only target inorganic or dead material (like his hair or clothing fibers). He can target something as small as a singular hair. He can alter an object's size to match that of something with equal weight. Effectively, mass is generally conserved.
• Hope Sensing (Thinker 1): This allows him to sense the ambient emotion of hope in living creatures within 50 meters of him. This sense is incredibly broad, so he is unable to determine the number of people in the range or identify specific people. Within 5 meters of himself, however, he can apply greater focus to uncover hidden people, able to foil some Strangers or find trapped victims under rubble and the like.

Other: My favorite superpower is Actual Magic, which does not exist in Worm. Failing that, my own Hope Manipulation.

youtube.com/watch?v=lBbcNR4bSBI

Name: Sean Evens

Alias: Overclock

Nicknames: NA.

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Personality:
A nod here. A grin there. A nice word for a citizen and a cat saved from a tree, because why not? He's got time, more than enough. Overclock is the quintessential speedster brute, a mighty force of justice. His record against criminal elements is nigh-flawless, and he is the sort to perform hero work outside scheduled patrols... and even outside costume. After all, once he's ramped up enough, even without a mask, cameras are no threat to his secret identity, which can result in a number of victims suddenly finding themselves saved, the villain beaten, and a note from their "friendly Neighborhood Overclock" left behind. Despite all this, he's not typically the sort to actively ham things up or play along as well with the PR machine as many of his peers. For a simple reason.

He is stubborn and prideful, though he typically hides it well. Sean has an... obsession perhaps with controlling his own path in life, in dictating his own destiny and image (his costume, among other things). He was not exactly thrilled to join the Wards, and the fact that he barely tolerates the red tape and PR is fairly clear to any that know him well... which is surprisingly few. Despite his forwardness on the job, behind closed doors, he is a comparatively restrained person. He sees heroing at the behest of a government agency as inherently flawed. In fact, he outright finds superhero costumes and masks to be ridiculous, and if his contract didn't have some comprehensive NDAs involved, he'd be perfectly happy to be hero without a secret identity at all. On the inverse scale, he doesn't think villains have the right to hide behind masks and thinks the precedent set by letting them is one of the major factors making the world worse by encouraging the idea of lessened to nonexistent consequences... as long as you might show up for the big threats like the S7 or Heralds.

If he were an independent hero, he'd be much happier. Instead, with the choice taken out of his hands, he barely refrains from acting spitefully towards his comrades and superiors. To that effect, even as he refuses to put on a stage persona for the masses, he feels he's doing everyone a favor just being his regular self on the job. Really, they should be thankful, he thinks, that he only takes out his frustrations on "acceptable targets".

And yet... despite all of that, there's a part of him, the part of him that he currently lets lead the charge, that believes in a better world, in better heroes, that things can be salvaged, the villains beaten, the Heralds destroyed, and that lives can be saved in all the ways that matter. And he worries for his younger peers, for how they might be suckered into the government's games as effectively child soldiers. A large part of him feels responsible for them, and that part also wants the Wards to be what the naive among them believe it is. And for that reason, he sees it as his duty to coopt the image and direction of the Wards before it can be twisted by hard men making hard choices. And well, if that lets him get back at those that forcibly recruited him in a number of petty ways? Why, how could he refuse?

Independent of his issues with "the System" and internal conflicts, however, Sean has a powerful sense of justice... if a bit black and white. To him, "evil" acts aren't excusable. There is only doing the right thing or doing the wrong thing with little -if any- in between; it is always a choice that anyone can make. For that reason, he has very little true leniency to offer for those that overstep. He's a true believer at heart in the American Dream, of the right to be free and choose your own destiny. Those that dare take that free will and liberty away from others (most Masters, slavers, rapists and murderers in general -though not necessarily killers) will find that he is fresh out of mercy. He believes that saving people is more than saving their bodies in the present but eliminating any threat that could harm them in the future; and it is equally vital to save the peoples' hearts and minds.

Appearance:
Civilian: A 5'10", 160 lb. dark-brown-haired, blue-eyed, athletic, caucasian and clean-shaven young man with the lean build of a martial artist. Prefers blue jeans and wide variety of cotton shirts or hoodies. Typically prefers solid colors or stripes and avoids stuff with brand names plastered all over it. He lives in Redline, Maine, which is -to say the least- cold, so he also favors warm jackets, preferably with hoods for when the chill is especially biting.

Cape: Despite despising spandex with a fiery passion, he's opted for a costume that might as well be named "MURICA HARDER" just to spite the PRT. It may not yet be obvious exactly how such a PR friendly-seeming outfit is going to channel such ends, but the malicious compliance promises to be glorious. The outfit is a thick, durable full-bodysuit affair, aside from the head, which has a wide blue domino mask, leaving his eyes and lower face open.
The dominant color is a dark blue with a triangular expanse of dark red covering the majority of the chest down to the bottom of the sternum along with rounding out to cover the shoulders and encompass everything above the nape of the neck. Emblazoned upon the front in the center of the red mass is a white and blue emblem of a clock without hands, surrounded by a ring of white five-pointed stars, one for each hour. A single narrow "v"-shaped, downward pointing white stripe ascends up the outside of both thighs with a larger, thicker one on his back, the point ending at the small of his back. The boots and gloves are dark red with multiple "v"-shaped white stripes ascending up the front lengths of them, the "points" of the v's pointing towards the ends of the appendages and only descending far enough to barely touch both his ankles and wrists. There is a white utility belt with dark red accents secured firmly to the waist by built in belt straps; though it can naturally be unbuckled and removed separate from the rest of the costume. All the colors of this costume are done blatantly in the exact same color coding as the American Flag.

Biography:
If Sean were to call his early and mid life anything, it was... "average". Not that he was actually disappointed with that state of affairs. He had loving parents, a good home, good schooling, a number of healthy hobbies he went through over the years, including swimming, gymnastics, soccer and finally, martial arts. To say the least, on an objective level, compared to many, he lived a good, perhaps above average life, and he was content with that, aspiring to no particular heights and wanting little more than he had. He had enough of a good support system to avoid being forced into any particular direction, and he loved it. What he loved and appreciated the most was the freedom to choose his own life, to choose his own lifestyle, to be able to plan around taking up a job that wouldn't just be a grind for money but instead something he would genuinely enjoy doing his whole life. He was 15 and had an actual plan for his life, one he intended to carry out.

And then some things happened, many of them unfortunate, some of them not. At the end of it all, unfortunately, his plans were in shambles. He had powers and a will to use them... and an even greater desire to avoid using them on anyone else's orders. So, he tried out the whole vigilante thing for the next two years, and turns out, he was pretty good at it. With his lessons from martial arts, he was more aware than many his age what the consequences of excessive force would be, so he carefully toed the line, stayed within the bounds of self defense and defense of others, and ensured that every citizen's arrest was properly conducted, the victim a witness and the baddie bound to be put away. The people and even law enforcement seemed to like him, liked the "friendly neighborhood hero" persona he had, a relatable guy who nonetheless was here to help. Between that and his martial arts refining and reinforcing his discipline, he kept things restrained. In fact, despite doing so begrudgingly at first, he even went to therapy and recovered from his Trigger Event... mostly anyway, becoming as well-adjusted and rational as any could likely ever expect him to be.

He did everything right, picked up the pieces of his life and was in the process of fitting them back together... only for the government to stick their nose into things. There were some threats of using the law against him for his vigilante work, but he easily called their bluff, knowing he had followed the letter of the law... and admittedly laughed in their face. Unfortunately, they thought to go around him entirely and manipulate his options through his guardians. And so, Sean finds himself in the here and now with a barely restrained chip on his shoulder and an axe to grind with the system... not that he's foolish enough to be overt about it. Oh no, no no. If he's going to have his way and get retaliation, he's going to have to play the long game... so it's sure nice to be so good at putting on a show. They won't know what hit them.

Powers/Skills:

• Athleticism: Is a highly athletic and agile individual, and his cardio is sufficient for very extended periods of running (to say the least).
• Great Pain Tolerance/Willpower: He's learned to handle pain and aching muscles taking martial arts, and gaining powers that rely on a stronger base has only pushed him to push himself to the edge time and again. Working up the scale, in being a hero, taking actual injuries multiple times has numbed him somewhat. As long as he isn't entirely incapacitated, it's likely that he'll try to keep fighting.
• Martial Arts: Tae-Kwon Do: Even before becoming a cape, he took martial arts and reached a level where he could actually put what he knew into practice beyond refereed spars. His style favors a wide variety of kicks, but he's been known to "ad lib" things or forgo form entirely to be more unpredictable. This gives him a certain awareness of where it's safe to strike the human body to incapacitate foes relatively harmlessly... or where he needs to aim to do the most damage.
• Service with a Smile: Having worked in the fast-food industry, Sean is quite practiced at concealing his true feelings from others.
• Swimming: Can swim pretty well. Retained the skills easily, even if he hasn't taken lessons in years.
• Escalation: Overclock (Mover/Brute/Breaker 2-10+): A power that multiplies Overclock's base speed, strength and durability to ramp up over time. This effect is not gradual but instead occurs in periodic bursts with a longer waiting time for each successive burst. The boost and periods between boosts occur in exponential increments, starting with 2, then 4, then 16, then 256 and so on. The waiting times are slightly lower initially, allowing him to activate the first boost instantly, effectively meaning he must wait 2 seconds to activate x4, then 4 seconds to activate x16, then 16 seconds for x256 and so on... a fairly long time in the initial moments of a fight. This is rather mitigated by the fact that he doesn't actually need a fight to ramp up and can, in fact, begin doing so ahead of time if he's anticipating one.
  
  Despite the ludicrous speeds he can move at, he doesn't seem to cause any undue collateral damage from the force of his passing. However, this state of affairs lasts only as long as he chooses to allow it. At any point, he can seemingly at least partially selectively decide which aspects of physics his boosted physicality will interact with, allowing the full force of the collateral effects of his actions to occur. This Breaker effect also allows him to manually utilize any level of lesser force than his current maximum upon targets, letting him avoid causing severe to lethal injury or damage in general even while going at full throttle.
  
  As far as the PRT has been able to determine, he effectively has no upper limit and has been able to continue ramping up over the course of an entire day, only loosing his charge once he fell asleep. His power is active, requiring he pay enough attention to manually activate each successive boost. In general, it is expected that most conflict with him will occur while he has boosted 4 times. Anything longer requires that a battle have been ongoing for a full 4 minutes at minimum.
  
  Speed Calculations: [+]

  • Base - 15 mph (22 fps)
  • (Instant) x2 - 30 mph (44 fps)
  • (2 seconds) x4 - 60 mph (88 fps) (barely too slow to run on water)
  • (6 seconds) x16 - 240 mph (356 fps) (can run on water)
  • (24 seconds) x256 - 3,840 mph (1 mps) (5,632 fps) (Mach 5)
  • (280 seconds/ 4 minutes, 40 seconds) x65,536 - 983,040 mph (186 mps) (1,441,792 fps) (Mach 1,281) (3.6x lightning speed)
  • (65,816 seconds/ 18 hours, 16 minutes, 56 seconds) x4,294,967,296 - 64,424,509,440 mph (12,201,611 mps) (6,299,300,000 fps) (96x lightspeed) (Mach 57,250,000)
  • (136 years, 71 days, 0 hours, 44 minutes, 55 seconds) The odds of him ever reaching Stage 7 are so low with an exponential timer, that it's not even worth calculating any further than this unless that absurdity comes to pass by some genuine miracle.
  
  
  Strength Calculations in lbs (and tons where relevant)(currently in progress): [+]

  • Overhead Press - (Base: 200)(V1: 400)(V2: 800)(V3: 3,200)(V4: 51,200 (25.6t))(V5: 13,107,200 (6553.6t))(V6: 858,993,459,200 (429,496,730t))
  • Deadlift - (Base: 360)(V1: 720)(V2: 1,440)(V3: 5,760)(V4: 92,160 (46.08t))(V5: 23,592,960 (11,796.48t))(V6: 1,546,188,226,560 (773,094,113t)
  • Bench Press - (Base: 280)(V1: 560)(V2: 1,120)(V3: 4,480)(V4: 71,680 (35.84t))(V5: 18,350,080 (9,175.04t))(V6: 1,202,590,842,880 (601,295,421t))
  • Squat - (Base: 320)(V1: 640)(V2: 1,280)(V3: 5,120)(V4: 81,920 (40.96t))(V5: 20,971,520 (10,485.76t))(V6: 1,374,389,534,720 (687,194,767t))
  • Short-range Punch - (Base: 170)(V1: )(V2: )(V3: )(V4: )(V5: )(V6: )
  • Reverse Punch - (Base: 300)(V1: )(V2: )(V3: )(V4: )(V5: )(V6: )
  • Placeholder - (Base: )(V1: )(V2: )(V3: )(V4: )(V5: )(V6: )
  
  
  Weakness [+]

  Sean's power has a simple weakness, an energy pool that all his boost stages draw from to various degrees, preventing him from maintaining the higher tiers often or easily. Essentially, each stage costs a certain amount to maintain, but they only expend energy at all if Sean is actively moving (and thus benefitting actively from the boost), which allows him to charge up more easily and less wastefully to higher levels by simply standing still.
  

  • First stage is low enough that he could hold it indefinitely and actually recharge his reserves.
  • Second stage neutralizes. He makes as much energy as it spends. Can't recharge (assuming he just lowered from a higher stage).
  • Third Stage, he's actively loosing energy and on a time limit, if a fairly generous one (3 continuous hours).
  • Fourth stage, same as the third, but way worse, not for reckless use (30 continuous minutes).
  • Fifth stage, drain is so bad in order to actually reach the sixth stage, he would have to sit still and do literally nothing but breathe if at all possible, basically meditating for the time it takes to reach his peak ability (3 continuous minutes).
  • Sixth stage. True absurdity. In real time, he only has a few seconds of action time, but that's likely to be more than enough.
• Shonen Transportation (Striker 0): It's not quite clear if this is an aspect of his Breaker power or entirely separate. In practice, however, it allows Overlock to safely transport other people and objects, even while moving at his top speed. While they may not share his enhanced reflexes or perceptions for the duration, they also seem to suffer little if any vertigo afterwards.
• Semi-Immutability (Trump 0): Overclock's powers have a noticeable resistance to being altered, stolen, copied, or boosted, enough so that he can usually continue to operate in some normal capacity.

Other: Favorite power sets involve time stopping or manipulation. Though, I'm becoming a big fan of speedsters as well.

Name: Beverly Hillshire

Alias: Workshop

Nicknames: Bev, Hills

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Personality: Beverly can come off as...Hyperactive. When she's talking to others, in stark contrast to most other Tinkers, she's usually the one with the reins, dragging the conversation around as she bounces from topic to topic with mile-a-minute thoughts pouring from her head and through her mouth, and when she's on her own, you can usually catch her muttering to herself more often than she isn't.

Most of the time, she's completely unaware that she has devolved into utter rambling until someone can get her to shut her trap. She doesn't really do it intentionally; more of a side effect of her ability, and Bev does her best to keep it in check when she can. If you can get by her babbling, she's a southern sweetheart who just wants to do her best to be useful to other people, and she takes the opinions of others to heart...Perhaps more than she should. While outwardly quite put-together, energetic and excitable, her deep-seated need to be needed, and to have the appreciation of others, is something that both drives her and can drag her into dark places.

While not a complete sheep, Bev is quick to fold under positive reinforcement, and as such could be manipulated in these ways. She does her best to be her own boss and use her head, but in spite of being a Tinker, she finds her heart does most of the thinking for her...For better and worse.

Appearance: Miss Hillshire is clearly one of a good handful of high school gals to finally hit that final growth spurt, and the results speak for themselves. She stands at a respectable 5'9 ft., and weighs in at around 155 lbs. Which might be a bit of chub, but she's got plenty of muscle! Not quite the kind you get working out or the sort, but the kind earned by hard labor and hand-crafting affronts to the laws of the universe. Her skin is lightly tanned from hidden years making Tinkertech in the shipyard. Her face, while toughened by the nature of her work and a few experiments gone rogue, maintains a certain softness to it, and her sharp red eyes, while at first perhaps seen as fierce and intimidating, instead speak to her joyful nature as they sparkle with mirth in the heat of her passion projects, and a mass of curly brown hair that manages to cascade all the way to her waist.

She tries to keep her clothing simple, both because she doesn't particularly care about it, and because it'll make her work easier the less it gets in her way. She normally wears a teal blue sports top alongside a comfortable pair of black zip-up leggings. On her waist, she might normally have a dark blue hoodie tied there, but in the colder months of the year, she's usually wearing it instead. Lastly, she wears heavy-duty black boots and fingerless gloves. The boots might look a bit too large for her, but she likes them because they're airy and still keep the heavy snow out. Mostly.

As for her costume, well...She didn't think that far ahead. She's thinking maybe some kinda big mask? Maybe like a welder's? Ooh, that'd be cool! And probably some satchels or a bag for all the stuff she likes carrying around. That'd be good. And probably something better than her civvie clothes to cover her, though she's clueless on what. She'd make armor or something, but those don't come out too often....Oh well! She'll figure something out.

Biography: Beverly and her family weren't originally from Redline; about eight or nine years back (she's sorta forgotten), they moved from a quiet town in Oklahoma to way, way up to Maine because her pa got a job offer they couldn't resist. It hurt a bit, because she was happy with where she'd been from. Had some good friends, was doing well in school, getting involved in the neighborhood....But, well, some things just gotta happen.

She didn't fit in as well here, and the situation around the city was completely different from what she'd grown up with; it was scary, but more pressing for someone like her, it was confusing. She liked being able to understand things, yet she couldn't wrap her head around all the chaos, the gang wars, and most of all, the villains. But like an ostrich with its head in the sand, she decided to ignore these things that just couldn't fit into her brain, and move on with life.

Long story short....Redline happened.

Bev lost her pops, and her mom wasn't taking it well. Didn't help that shortly afterwards, her Tinker ability had manifested; for weeks it left her mind in shambles, sandwiched between her tidal wave of emotions and a disgusting flow of blueprints, concepts, and a desire to create. It's always those early weeks that are the hardest.

She learned to cope by hanging out in the shipyard. Her ma would've had her head if she knew about it, with all the gang stuff that went down this side of the city, but it kept her out of her spiraling parent's hair for a bit, and let her organize her disheveled thoughts as she took bits and pieces from scrapped ships, and began building...Things.

There was no rhyme or reason, and it pissed her off. She could never make what she wanted to make; only what her stupid head decided to. While eventually she grew to enjoy the process, of letting her mind wander and design whatever it fancied, she still holds some bitterness in how it functions. Still, she looked on the bright side; at least she wasn't a villain. Heck, when a member of The Mutants accidentally got ahold of something she had been working on, it put them on ice. Literally, like a cryogenic grenade. Making an impromptu citizen's arrest and not sticking around to be questioned, Bev was a bit giddy at the excitement building in her. Building her tech was one thing, but getting to see it in action was something else altogether!

Eventually, Beverly became anonymously known as The Shipyard Tinker, and due to the peculiarity of her devices and the mystery of her nature, none of the ill forces present attempted to pull anything with her. Heck, sometimes she even got to make small deals with some vigilantes or, on the rare chance, honest-to-gosh heroes who were interested in some Tinkertech to give them an edge. It was fun while it lasted!

Earlier this month, however, her little hideout was spoiled by Mr. Fukuda, though he made her an offer she couldn't possibly refuse. The Wards Initiative?! Becoming a proper Cape?! Working with OTHER CAPES HER AGE?! The thought was static to the mind and a charge to the heart. She hadn't managed to make much friends in her time at Redline, but surely this would be a good chance, and she'd get to help the good guys on top of it all! AND have access to PRT resources, even including the work of other Tinkers?! There was no way she was passing this up!

Powers/Skills:

[DESIGNATION: Tinker 5 (tentative 2 in any other given Classification)]

Chaos Creations: Beverly's Tinker talents are nearly limitless in thought, but quite so in practice. She generally does her best work making cheap, quick-and-easy devices that possess a short shelf life if not give consistent proper maintenance. However, her process also involves some...Peculiarities. For one, she has no conscious say in what exactly she makes, essentially Tinkering by instinct over anything else, and in fact has made things in her sleep more often than she'd admit. This means she just makes what she makes, and has to roll with it. This also means she generally doesn't know the exact applications of any given thing she makes, though she can usually intuit it well enough.

This also comes at the cost of focus. If she does attempt to properly work through a design and put her mind into it, it tampers with her natural process. Anything she makes this way generally becomes of much poorer make, more ineffective, or prone to being incredibly unstable and/or dangerous. The only things she can put some level of intent behind are builds based around the scanning and monitoring of vital signs, though she's hesitant to elaborate on why this might be.

Hands-On Learner: While not classified as being apart of her power (yet), Beverly possesses deft hands and is skilled at hastily putting things together, or taking them apart, and seems to gain a decent idea of how to do those processes to any other tech she lays her hands on. This might just be a talent of hers, but the PRT are still debating this being a possible Thinker, or perhaps even Striker, part of her capabilities.

Cooking Intuition: Beverly has gone on record to claim she has little to no experience cooking or learning to cook, but has shown a strange aptitude for it not unlike her ability to inherently Tinker without much thought, though thankfully without the edge of randomness. In other words, she's a very competent cook, and has a small hobby of making and baking sugary delights on some off-time, as she finds sweets helpful to give her an extra boost getting through her process.

Well-Built: While nowhere near superhumanly strong or fast, having to haul around all her junk by hand, and working it by hand, has built some impressive muscle on her, making her stronger and quicker than one might anticipate; though it's not like she's well-versed in hand-to-hand or anything.

Other: As her time as The Shipyard Tinker, she got offers extended to her from both The Mutants and Knight Aspirant. While she seriously considered KA, she ended up turning both of them down. Hopefully they don't put two and two together when Workshop makes her debut...

Name: Edwin Charles

Alias: Schrödinger

Nicknames: Ed. What, they can't all be creative or witty.

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Personality: Even before his Trigger Event, Edwin's always had a bit of... death anxiety. Thanatophobia. A series of close calls as a young child imprinted on his mind, etching memories that, while he can't necessarily recall, shaped the kid he is today. He's always jumpy, nervous, difficult to keep still. Think less 'tweeker needing a fix', more 'feeling eyes on his back'. He has a lot of frantic energy coursing through him in any situation save for the absolute safest, giving him a very narrow focus, a one-track mind that he does his very best not to derail. Now multiply that by about 9 post-Trigger Event, and that's a lot of his deal nowadays.

Upsides? Well, there's very few; Edwin's anxieties make him pretty rough around the edges, leaving him terse and bratty and generally bad with people. His singlemindedness makes him very effective at doing what needs doing, pragmatic in his approach, seeing as he's always on the edge of Fight or Flight. Due to a need to be heard (stemming from the idea that his anxieties have to be taken seriously) he can also be quite direct with people - blunt, honest, and not taking any bullshit... not to say that he's always able to get the words out. It's also sparked a surprising creative streak in him. If Edwin wasn't a Cape, he could make a nice living as an artist.

Appearance: Edwin is tall. Very tall. Not, like, being-tall-is-his-power tall, but tall for a normal person. A clean 6'7" in height, in fact. He's not very picky with his wardrobe, though there is a consistent theme of baggy clothing, layers, long sleeves and long pants - things that make him bulkier, that he could "turtle" inside of, in a manner of speaking. He also always wears glasses, since he's so near-sighted as to be practically blind and refuses contact lenses.

As a Cape, he gets a little flashier. A deep gray cowl and a match open-front skirt, mimicking the Grim Reaper's iconic cloak, overtop some standard protective gear - thick vest, pads on the joints, steel-toe boots, etc. His wireframe glasses are replaced with a pair of prescription safety goggles wrapped around his head. The most striking element is a bright red jacket combat jacket worn over it all, the pockets and holsters holding various self-defense gear (collapsing batons, hand taser, maybe a pepper spray or two), made to turn him into a tempting target. It wasn't his idea.

Biography: For the most part Edwin's life had been pretty normal. His mother left his father early in his life, so he doesn't really know much about her. His dad raised him as well as he could by himself, but a few times he grew neglectful, leading to a very young Edwin to end up in dangerous situations more than once. Physically he came out of them okay, but the collective near-death experiences traumatized the poor kid - the memories were repressed, barely even registering in his mind, but the feelings stuck with him for the rest of his life.

This wasn't his Trigger Event, though. Beyond those awful moments Edwin existed as anyone would, though the budding signs of his thanatophobia cropped up around kindergarten, when the very thought of sharpening pencils, reaching for books on high shelves, or sitting under a faulty light made him almost too fearful to pay attention. Things were... tough for him from then on. Every step forward in overcoming the fear was accompanied by him aging and growing more aware of everything that could be what does him in. Edwin became marked as 'the weird kid' in his schools, too anxious to hold friendships for long, and for a while he was ostracized. Come Freshman Year of Highschool, however, he met someone who understood him. Not fully, but enough. They became highschool sweethearts, and the relationship had a very positive effect on him. Nearing senior year, Edwin had most of the fears under control.

Then he got his powers.

When the school year was to start, Edwin was in the hospital - nothing major, just a broken leg and a mile-long stare. By the time he healed up, he was being investigated for manslaughter. When that charge cleared, another one cropped up. And another. And one more. The last year of his school life became an unfortunate series of terrible tragedies that left him under harsh scrutiny, as the nature of his powers were juuust esoteric enough to not be understood by civilians or noticed by Capes. After a while of having these powers (and after a handful of house arrests), Edwin grew... as close to comfortable as he could be with it all. He trained a little on his own, cultivating a very slight modicum of control, as well as picking up more mundane self-defense techniques, and spent most of his free time writing, drawing, painting, just making things from the confines of his home. Right before he turned 18, someone finally connected the dots, and he was picked up by the PRT. For his own sake, and for the people around him.

Edwin was almost too old to join the new Wards division, but between his tumultuous mental state and low grasp on his powers, it was deemed necessary.

Powers:
(Designation: Mover 5 / 1, Trump ?, Thinker 2)
Edwin has an eclectic set of powers that, despite being unrefined and unable to be controlled directly, make him a very disruptive element.
• Protective Spatial Displacement: Edwin's most notable power is the ability to avoid harm by swapping places with another person. Of course, that's just the easy way to say it. A completely passive power, it triggers at the precise moment when some form of injury would otherwise come to him, switching his position with that of the closest person to him that is clear of whatever danger there is (ie, if someone were to shoot him point-blank he'd swap with them, but if he was caught in a burning building with another person, the swap would be with someone outside, safe from the fire). The swap isn't just of placement, but also their position in space (ie, if someone shoots him while his hands are raised, the swap would have Edwin holding the gun and their hands being raised the same way). The power only triggers if significant harm will come to Edwin - it wouldn't save him from being flicked with a rubberband, but will save him from anything between a solid punch to complete body annihilation.

There are three main flaws with this power: the first, obviously, being that Edwin has no say in who he ends up swapping with, it's always the nearest, safest human being. The second is that it does not trigger entirely consecutively. A full three seconds is needed before it will trigger again - not a long time, but enough for someone to get the drop on him. The third is that it only works on things that he's aware of happening. Things that fall outside of his awareness (even something like hearing a gun click or tasting a bit of poison) won't trigger it.
• Minor Teleportation: After a concentrated effort put into training, Edwin has managed to grow a very, very slight handling on this power, allowing him to manually teleport a short distance (roughly less than five feet from his starting location). There is still a 'cooldown' of three seconds before he can do it again, but interestingly this isn't tied to the main power, meaning he can teleport and, in the same moment, be displaced from harm.
• Power Eclipsing: The full ramifications of this facet have yet to be explored, but one final quirk of Edwin's Spatial Displacement is the capability of overriding a Cape's own powers. For the brief window of time when Edwin is truly vulnerable - the three seconds after a swap - Edwin essentially usurps control of the powers of the person he swapped with, as if they're still 'catching up' to their owner's new position in space. However, this only happens if the reason for the swap was due to a usage of powers to begin with. If a Cape were to get at him with mundane means, then this element won't occur.
• Heightened Senses & Instinct: Alongside all that poofing and goofing, Edwin also gained supernaturally enhanced sense - taste, touch, smell, and hearing, but not sight. As well, a kind've 'sixth sense' has been enhanced, most likely the primal instinct that alerts people to danger (in layman's term, a Spidey-Sense). This combines to give Edwin a greater awareness of things around him, possible threats, and an extra heap load of anxiety. But, that one isn't part of the package.

Skills: Having already feared death, dying, and injury for most of his life, Edwin has learned a good amount of ways in keeping himself safe, from the use of common self-defense weapons to a hodgepodge of martial arts, namely for disarming and disorienting people. He also has a very artistic side to him, a skill he's cultivated regardless of what's been happening in his life. Painting, design, writing, he's dabbled in it all.

Other: Iiiii would like to flyyyyyyy

_Name

_Alias

_Nicknames

_Age

_Gender

_Personality

_Appearance

_Biography

_{Powers/Skills}

_Other

• Jane spends a lot of time in public libraries, about as much as she does trying to make her arm less shitty.

• She doesn’t have a birth certificate. Or a state ID…or driver’s license, or SSID. Not that you would want to, but you wouldn’t be able to exactly prove that Jane Rosner is her real name.

• She’s also not technically a resident of Redline.

• Her favorite superpower is probably Amazon’s. She thinks Amazon is hot.

• In the last few weeks, she’s been heavily considering joining the Knights Aspirant so she can have money and get out of a nasty-as-sin Junkyard. There are no hero teams who would want a tinker whose gimmick is junk, but if she’s lucky, the power armored mercs will.

Name: ????

Alias: Writhe, The Seven's Head, The First.

Nicknames: N/A

Age: Unknown

Gender: Presumed Male

Personality: Writhe is the worst kind of monster; the one that still feigns a humanity it lost long ago. If it weren't for his unnatural, monstrous appearance, wreathed in shadow with tendrils hungering for prey practically trembling in anticipation, his personality wouldn't make you suspect a thing about him. He acts casually in any situation, even when there are others in The Seven who probably want his head. He never gives off anything more than an air of confidence and aura of pure assurance; he knows what he wants to do and how he'll do it, and will never hesitate, merely...Reconfigure his ideas, if something goes out of place, or piques a new interest in him.

Underneath that cool exterior is a vile creature. His existence, even by his own words, is to cause despair for others, to drive people into the depravity he knows they are capable of; and he wants to be the one to bear witness to it. That twisted desire, paired off with an unnatural charisma, may be what draws deviants to him, and be what allowed him to forge The Six initially. He takes great pleasure in that work, and surprisingly, just as much in seeing himself thwarted, to see the 'good guys' doing their best against his horrifying odds. After all, what good would wickedness be without its opposite to pair with? Dreadfully boring. And bored is the one thing Writhe never wants to be. He can be patient, and tolerate days, months, even years of silence...But inevitably, like a predator that had been caged, only to be abruptly released, he will always pursue his base nature at the earliest convenience. A beast, but with the social graces of the best of humankind. A terrifying combination.

One thing that interests him beyond his goal are Parahumans at large. Perhaps it is because they wear those cracks of the heart, mind, and soul on their sleeves with their abilities, instead of those who Writhe has had to break himself. Perhaps he can relate to them, knowing they've each got their own little demons, whereas he has become his. Or perhaps it is merely because he understands the potential each Parahuman has; the ability to change the world for the worse. Perhaps it is all of the above. Regardless, he takes special interest in them, evident in how he fights against Powered individuals of all sorts. He...Toys with them. Striking enough to keep them off balance, but taking his time to try and pry into their psyche; to understand them. To break them. Like some kind of deranged Shadow Shrink, he works his way into how they think and act, and then decides what to do from there.

Sometimes he just lets them go; maybe he's decided they're more trouble than they're worth, or he takes enough interest in them to let them see another day, but just doesn't want them with him. On other occasions, he may try and recruit them, preying on their vulnerabilities to find what he needs to say. Others, well...He doesn't like it, but sometimes, they just aren't very interesting. Those ones he disposes of pretty quickly. Just no fun. On the other hand, sometimes he takes an interest in an individual, but can't fit them into his spots; doesn't want them to just walk off, but they can't join him, or won't. In those cases, he just tries to break them until they submit or shatter, both are enjoyable for him either way. Emotionally, physically, even mentally. All fair game to him, and he likes to mix the three together for the best and most interesting results.

Normal people, civilians, are usually beneath his interest beyond their scope in his 'games' he plays with Capes. Just dull, living their quiet, mundane lives. Not even worth prying into. On occasion, though, he may find an otherwise normal individual that he takes an interest in; sees the spark of potential. Those people, he likes them a lot. It's one thing meeting like-minded individuals...It's another altogether to make one yourself. Those impressionable sorts, who just need a push in the right direction, or a shove into a place of darkness....It's ecstacy to him, making a new member over simply finding them.

Appearance: No one is certain why he looks the way he does; presumably it has to do with his ability, but even then, it's...Off-putting. Any time he shows up, he always looks like this. A mere shadow of a human being, nearly no discernable features to him. Just those piercing white eyes, the sole feature of an otherwise featureless form. He stands around 5'9, but...It fluctuates, changes with his almost fluid moments, terrifying as they are. His form no longer seems bound by a body in the human sense...Which only adds to his monstrous reputation.

Then there are the tendrils. Like extensions of himself, tentacles of inky darkness that stretch around him, eager to act...Eager to kill. If his size is left to be questioned, then these are even more puzzling. They seem to reach out from the center of his back, coiling around him; roughly the length of his arm. However, they can go far longer than that, stretching across the length of a street to pursue his targets, dragging them back to despair...

To writhe.

Biography:

Hotel. Shadows. Money. Boss. Payment. Capes. Incident. Flames. Pain. Words. Pain. Struck. Pain. Pain. Pain....

Then Darkness.

A flash of images, with feelings that mean nothing now to the thing that is Writhe. Whatever past this man had, it was cast aside the day he became this monster, and he has no intentions of returning...If he ever could to begin with. The first thing Writhe ever did, after all, was kill one of the original four of The Guardians; Shockwave. It was a horrific scene straight from a slasher, the kind of bloodied mess that could only come from a beast with nothing to lose, and nothing to gain. All that left was violent instinct, a desire to life. For what?

......

He didn't care. He would keep living.

Eventually, he found purpose, not through his own musings, but in what he discovered he was being painted as; the terrifying bogeyman who had killed a member of The Guardians, and thwarted the rest who had tried to contain him. Fooled Guardian, outskilled Amazon, and outmaneuvered Gatecrasher. He was a menace...Perhaps that was something worth being. And so it would be.

He traveled across the United States. Capes found it impossible to pin the man down; his method of travel was untraceable, and his attacks too unrelated and abrupt. He outthought Thinkers left and right, avoiding capture and always ending up on top. Eventually, attempts to track and contain the thing that was now being dubbed Writhe were ended. They resolved to doing damage control, arriving where he would appear, control the carnage, and try to apprehend him when they could.

This game of cat-and-mouse was different from the usual stuff of Capes, because this rat bit back. And soon, other vermin flocked...

People just as twisted as he, though perhaps not in the same ways. Still, it gave him an epiphany. His goal to sow fear and raise hell would be made all the easier, and certainly more interesting, with others that wished to join. A sick little family of freaks. How fitting. Thus, the Slaughterhouse Six was born.

This has gone on for almost twenty years, with the Six (or now, The Seven) getting beaten back, though never without loss of life...And hope. Even their latest defeat in New York, costing Writhe six of his fellow freaks, was not without horrific blowback. One of them, Fallout, could control and emit radiation, and focus it into radioactive bursts of energy. A fun power, and Writhe had big hopes for what would happen when he was pushed too far. He was proven right, since he went nuclear over The Big Apple, leveling most of the city along with himself. Writhe, of course, escape.

He has been on his lonesome for a time, perhaps giving the world a chance to breath. Just meant he had to raise the stakes even more for their next appearance...And bolster their numbers, of course.

Powers/Skills:

[DESIGNATION: Stranger 6/Mover 9

REDACTED [+]

/Trump (Brute, Master, potential Thinker)]

Umbral Trespassing: Writhe's ability allows him to traverse in a 'shadow world', which he accesses by slipping into even a small spot where there are shadows to be seen, or where general darkness dominates the area. While in this area, Writhe is impossible to track and immune to nearly any form of assault, and in this area, he can traverse to any other spot where his power would be applicable and emerge there. This travel is not instantaneous, but it is far faster than he could traverse on foot. His high Mover ranking is less towards raw speed and more towards inconceivable levels of mobility. In an area of darkness, he can submerge and emerge nearly anywhere, striking from any possible location, all while practically camouflaged in the shadows, even his bright white eyes strangely remaining unseen in darkness. Writhe has been seen making unorthodox usage of this ability, such as sticking in limbs to strike out at different locations, while staying stationary in another spot, or dragging others into and through the 'shadow world', allowing him to control the locations of enemies and allies.



Other: The only concrete information the PRT has on Writhe's past is that he is almost certainly a former resident of the USA. Beyond that...He's a disturbingly large blank in history.

Name: Miko Danvers

Alias: Yandere, The Seven's Sister, The Second.

Nicknames: "That Crazy Bitch", "The Pink One", "The Girl in the Skirt", "Twin-tailed Terror", "Her".

Age: 16 (physically) (true mental age unclear; given her vast skillset, assumed 20's)

Gender: Female

Personality:
Cheerful and peppy on the surface, she is nonetheless equally capable of becoming psychotic and murderous on a dime and is incredibly unstable and overconfident. Despite any evidence to the contrary, Yandere is under the impression that she is acting to save the world and seems to believe that she can avert some unnamed "apocalypse", which she has failed at multiple times. Assuming her claims about her power are correct, this, understandably so, would be the primary reason she is batshit insane.

Despite this, under the vast majority of circumstances, Yandere is incredibly well composed and controlled in her mannerisms. If she's acting eccentric, that's usually because it's what she wants others to see. She often wears a gleeful smile, a smile that tends to stretch to psychotic levels once the adrenaline hits and battle is joined. It is rare indeed that Yandere ever truly takes her opposition seriously. After all, with her power, why should she? Even when seriously injured or seemingly inconvenienced, all she will do is smile and smirk, even offering a peppy mocking congratulation or two. She is quick to dole out almost genuine sounding praise to her opposition, but anyone with any conception of her power can be well aware it's likely not anything she's not seen before and clearly overcome.

Under no circumstances has Yandere ever shown a single iota of genuine fear or distress that has been witnessed past the infamous day of her Trigger Event. Though, she will sometimes feign such with her opponents to lull them into a false sense of security. Truly, given her physical limitations, it is all too easy for others to underestimate her, especially first-time opposition. She is a crafty schemer at heart, always poking and prodding at her opponents verbally, teasing out their mindsets to determine if they are worth keeping around for the "Grand Plan" and the betterment of humanity as a whole. Even while she's having a rip-roaring good time messing around with her enemies, she's also scouting them as allies in her quest. If they pass, she's more than willing to throw down the hatchet to try and bring them into the fold, and with her ability to effectively wholly analyze the psyches of others through trial and error, to an outsider, she may appear to say exactly the right things at the right time to make her case seem all too reasonable.

Regardless of her methods or seeming amorality, Yandere desires to save humanity above all things. To her, it is her one true calling in life, and no sacrifice is too great in the service of that goal. Her only worry, one she has pushed to the backburner for the time being, is what she's going to do with herself once she succeeds. What will she do after? What burnt bridges will she need to rebuild? Once she's done the deed, what is left for her? What kind of proper profession would she like to undertake? And once she reaches the end of her life, can she even die of old age, or will she be forced to redo things all over again?

Existential concerns aside, some part of her hopes that she'll make some genuine friends along the way and actually have comrades and loved ones at the end of things. While saving the world certainly takes priority for understandable reasons, she'd also like to have a boy-or girl-friend to settle down with. Honestly, at this point, she's not super picky either way; it's just a little difficult to get people to take your advances seriously when you're an infamous serial killer. She'd like something genuine, but maybe that's asking a lot...

Sigh. "Ah well, here I go a killing again~!"

Appearance:
Civilian: A 5'6", 140 lb. raven-haired half-Japanese-Caucasian teenage girl with blue eyes, she is someone who has been thoroughly smacked with the puberty stick in... certain areas (cough) She is athletic beneath her oft deceptively covering wear, despite appearing almost as delicate as she is busty, and wears her hair in single ponytail. Even in this state, she tends to favor bright, cheerful colors, and she has enough taste to avoid being garish about them. Though, dark tops with light bottoms also appeal to her. Skirts are an unironic staple of her wardrobe, along with a variety of snug, form-fitting sweater shirts, sometimes turtle-necked. She usually has at least a few knives concealed somewhere on her person.

Cape: In all reality, her civilian guise is donned with incredible rarity. Most of the time, she boldly goes where she pleases with her hair dyed a bold pink and pulled up into a pair of ponytails with bowed ribbons. Aside from that, she typically wears a now ominously distinct white and blue Japanese schoolgirl outfit. On first glance, it would be assumed to be a cosplay, if not for the fact that Yandere has taken a known trip across the sea before to obtain it by questionable means. Certainly, if nothing else, she can't be said to half-ass her image. In addition, she dons an intimidating number of knives, both throwing and not, beneath her skirt strapped to her upper thighs, and she can usually be seen with a book bag slung over one shoulder and sometimes a fanny pack hanging from the back of her waist, the latter usually only in the case she seems to be expecting a fight. The fanny back is usually holding some handy odds or ends that just conveniently aid her situation as if she were fucking Dora the Explorer.

While her power and infamy amongst government agencies means having an actual secret identity is generally a pipe dream, Yandere occasionally will whip out the makeup and some spare clothes and have an actual peaceful night out on the town. A casual drink with another here, a playful movie there. If she wants to disappear into a crowd, she has the means and the knowledge to make it happen, even while under intense scrutiny.

Biography:
Our story begins 30 years past. It was the early 1990's, and the chaos of the emergence of the Parahuman phenomenon had roughly settled down. After 70 years of lessons learned quickly and harshly, some level of true order had been restored to the world. Though villains had crawled forth from every crevice, heroes had risen to meet them, and the world, in turn, rose to support those heroes in whatever way they may.

The world had recovered, and though not all was well, things were improving. Until one day...

That terrible day was the first Herald attack, or as it has been commemorated in Japan, Red Day; a grim reference to the streets, running red with the approach of the goliath entity... The devastation left in its wake slew millions and left the entire nation shell-shocked and battle scarred, reduced to a 2nd world country. Though the infrastructure of the island nation wasn't completely ruined, they had been completely unprepared for an attack of such scale, and with their already low birthrate, even 30 years later, their population hadn't bounced back.

It was into this devastated nation that Maki Fuma was born. She grew up in a nation struggling economically and nationally, and she had no desire to stick around. Far from one to allow herself to be shackled be tradition or nationalism, she fled to the United States at the first available opportunity and came to settle down in the State of Oklahoma. Having come from a struggling country, Maki knew of hard word, and in the far more prosperous America, that served her well. She got a job, went to school, went to college, graduated with honors and married well, taking up her husband's surname of Danvers. The life she led couldn't have been called more than upper middle class, but it was hers and one she was content with. And soon enough, she was having her first child, a bright young girl named Miko.

As she grew, Miko came to internalize her mother's standards of hard work and determination. She learned to value the will to push through all obstacles, to never stop even if one stumbled. She learned of her mother's old home and came to enjoy indulging in their media and culture, even as she never took what she already had now for granted. She was a cheerful soul, who made friends easily and scored well enough to make her classmates wonder about the memes of Japanese grades. Her life was good, peaceful, aside from the occasional inevitable Cape shenanigans; though she was never unlucky enough to be nearby or collateral.

And then Gaia attacked.

In the aftermath, her home and family were gone, razed to the ground and crushed, the city flattened beneath the Herald's wrath. With nowhere to go and no-one to turn to, the young madwoman did what she could to discover a new purpose in life. And though it took years, years of resets and mishaps, deaths and hardships, she soon encountered it. A horror. An apocalypse in truth. What she saw in the grim-dark future of Earth Bet, she could not overcome. They were not ready... not as they were, not while weakened by the countless interpersonal wars and grudges of man, not while Heroes and Villains alike played their games, not while the Heralds were left to their own devices to further upend mankind's support structure.

Miko looked upon it all and came to know that she loved humanity more than anything else. Even if they hated her. Even if they killed her over and over. Even if they drove her out and rejected her, she wanted more for them all the same, wanted better for the world. It had taken her all too long, but even her ordeal under Gaia had not destroyed her mind and soul entirely. No, though she was reluctant to ever face the mountain again, much less a Herald at all, her will had been hardened under the pressures of life into a shining diamond of determination. She had become -if not whole- then something more than a pile of shattered glass and psychotic edges. To return was to lose everything. To stay was to lose everything. At least with the former, they would have a chance.

And so, saying farewell to what few loved ones she had, she reset. And reset. And reset. And reset. And reset again. And again...

Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.Reset.

And when she finally stopped?

She was back, the wrath of Gaia fading in the distance, her home crumbling all over again like a returning nightmare.

But she turned away from the past... and faced the future with a steeled spine and a mad glint in her eyes.

Something was coming. Something humanity wasn't ready for.

But maybe she could change that...

No matter the cost...

She had to.


Powers/Skills:

• Athleticism: Her limits are constrained primarily by her physical ability as a base human. As such, it has served Yandere well where possible to keep up a strict training regimen to push what limits she can. Her manual control of her body means, however, that she can override her muscles' natural limiters and briefly perform shocking feats of ability... at the cost of damage to herself, of course. But in the right circumstances, the trade-off is worth it.
• Insane Pain Tolerance/Willpower: Yandere's pain tolerance can best be described as: "Y E S". Due to her horrific Trigger Event and the many many horrible deaths and injuries she has effectively suffered since and had permanently carved into her memory, she will not so much as flinch in the face of full-throttle torture porn levels of horrific brutality being inflicted upon her. She'll be distinctly annoyed at the inconvenience of the injury itself, sure, but it's just another day at the office.
• Martial Arts: Anything Goes: While not a proper practitioner per-say, Yandere has committed a vast quantity of hand-to-hand fighting styles to memory. She is the equivalent of a top-tier black belt even without her power informing her muscle memory, and her combat style is in turns highly unpredictable and playful or brutally efficient... and still unpredictable. Sometimes, if she's feeling cute, she'll even memorize her opponents' attacks during the fight and immediately use them in return, just to mess around.
• Polylingual: She can speak nearly every language, and those she can't, she appears to learn the basics of within subjective seconds.
• Skilled: If it can be learned by a mundane human, she probably knows the basics at a minimum, and can correct any deficiencies in what appears to be an instant. Medical techniques, piloting, gunfighting, tracking, smithing, hunting, building, cooking, parkour, operating high tech machinery and Tinkertech alike. You name it, she can do it. In the case of Tinkertech, it's quite literally just an effective matter of trial and error for her, before she appears to operate or identify it perfectly as far as anyone else is concerned.
• Unreadable: Her absolute control of her body language means that when she genuinely wants to deceive someone, it is literally impossible to see through her down to a hormonal level without a straight up truth/lie-detecting power. Technological lie detectors tend to fare no better than a regular person.
• Groundhog Day (Thinker/Shaker(?) 12): Yandere's power, which she openly boasts about, is what she claims to be genuine time travel. While proof one way or the other has naturally yet to be obtained, her power at least effectively mimics as though that were the truth. One way or the other, she is either telling the truth, or she is a Thinker of truly absurd proportions. In practice, until proven otherwise, she will be assumed to be the latter for everyone's peace of mind.
  
  Her claim is that anytime she dies -or even anytime she wants, she is thrust back in time up to a full day... and she can keep going with no cap other than the day of her Trigger Event. Her power also gives her perfect recall and muscle memory. What this translates to is that she can retread the exact steps of any and every encounter, retrying any and every hardship or failure until she wins. In essence, she is a monstrously powerful combat Thinker and Precognitive who is always living in the "winning" timeline.
  
  As a result of her perfect recall and muscle memory/control, Yandere is capable of learning nearly any skill or piece of information in what appears to be subjective seconds, even instantaneously. Her effective precognition means she can commit to absolutely insane tactics, before "undoing" the consequences and retaining all the information she has gathered. In effect, there is no system she cannot penetrate, no password she cannot divine, no secret identity too secret or sacred. If she wants to know something, it is literally impossible to stop her from learning it without storing it away off-world/dimension, and even then, you're assumedly only buying time from the inevitable. It can generally be assumed that she will always be aware of the exact limitations and functions of her opponents' powers and be prepared to counter them.
  
  Even were her active powers to be shut down, according to Thinkers, she would retain all the information and skills she has gathered, along with the imbued muscle memory, giving her a comparatively extremely favorable position from which to retreat or otherwise survive until she can regain her power and "undo" the incident.
  
  At present, there are no known methods of evading her power's detection. As her power is proven to be capable of clearly targeting even the Heralds, the vast majority of even highly specialized Strangers are incapable of evading its gaze in turn. Even when she is seemingly otherwise unaware of their location, Yandere has been noted to "fire blindly" and kill or disable potentially troublesome concealed foes without even the slightest amount of notable effort.
  
  She has proven on multiple occasions to be able to accurately predict the location of Herald attacks over a day in advance and narrow down the alternate targets in the case that the original is avoided in response to her prediction. She has also been able to determine the Heralds' specific targets/the purpose of a given attack and the fallout of failing to stop them.
• Unrestrainable (Trump/Mover 9): Yandere's power possesses an automatic trigger function, preemptively defending her from any effect that would shut down, weaken or otherwise hinder or negate her access to her power. To be clear, she is not actually immune to said effects like Null Trumps and Masters, but her power effectively ensures she always knows they are coming and allows her to never actually be caught out in a position where they can catch her. This effect triggers against more than just other powers, and it is decisive enough to prevent her from being meaningfully imprisoned, trapped, or disabled by other means, including paralysis or unconsciousness. In the case of the latter, notably sleeping, her power still triggers automatically if she would be put in a situation thereafter from which she couldn't awaken for an unnatural period of time.

Other: Favorite power sets involve time stopping or manipulation. Though, I'm becoming a big fan of speedsters as well.

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[APPEARANCE]
Morie's 167cm frame is most commonly hidden beneath hoodies, jackets, skirts, leggings, and boat shoes or sneakers, leading to her giving off a sense of effortless beauty--though she very much puts effort into her looks. A beauty mark sits beneath her left eye, and she is rarely seen without hairpins keeping her bangs organized. She usually ties her hair back in a small ponytail when doing anything physical.


[PERSONALITY]
Morie can give off an unapproachable aura, often looking annoyed or tired. This shell, though, is very easy to get past. The slightest bit of kindness--even sometimes a simple compliment--can quickly melt away her icy demeanor. Despite her best efforts to be aloof, Morie is shockingly clingy and soft-hearted. Though she often has difficulty communicating with words, her expressions and actions do more than enough to show her true nature as a caring ally and friend. Morie is one to nearly never pin blame on another, always being the first to apologize. A tendency to overanalyze little things can often control her, and that is especially true when something goes wrong--she will immediately look inward and pick apart every mistake she believes herself to have made, which can quickly sour her mood. Just as quickly, though, kind words can pick her back up--she becomes attached to people easily, even before she realizes it herself.
The girl is very quick to sacrifice for the sake of others, finding happiness in doing so through the happiness of those she aids. This trait, along with her general disposition, makes her a very easy soul to manipulate and take advantage of. Morie has recognized this 'doormat' aspect of herself, and it is one of the reasons she tries--and fails--to be distant. Realizing she's been used is a crushing feeling to the girl, not helped by the fact that she can hardly even think to say 'no' without feeling herself panic. The thought of upsetting others, often even if they've upset her, paralyzes her. In short: as much as she desires to be close to others, she's scared to be.
When she speaks, she is rather slow and deliberate, needing to be focused on being clear with what she means and avoid stammering.
Notably, Morie excels under pressure. The high of adrenaline coursing through her makes her feel strong, the fear of failing something she deems to be important to her focuses her mind. She can come off as a different person when the chips are down--a person she personally likes better, leading to her being a bit of an adrenaline junkie. Being a hero is a pretty good way to get her fix.

[BACKSTORY]
Morie's earliest memories pertain to the teasing she endured due to her stutter. She's told she was a loud and outgoing child in her earliest years, but that her free spirit had been dampened by her treatment by her peers--easy enough to believe, considering her natural inclination to be friendly with others that she stifles to protect herself.
She livened up around the age of six when finding herself the older sister of a pair of fraternal twins, taking to the role with joy. Due to complications with the twins' birth, they were both frail and prone to illnesses, which made life difficult for the family. Morie did all she could to help, taking an interest in medicine and self-teaching herself anything that she thought might be helpful in caring for the twins. She spent much of her free time watching over them, and just generally trying to be the best big sister she could be.
As she aged into her tween years, she worked on her stuttering and kept mostly to herself and her family. Though with few friends, she was happy with her life, any loneliness kept at bay by her siblings.
Things got harder as the twins' condition worsened. They became sick more often and for longer. What little Morie knew was not nearly enough to help them as much as she needed to, feeling more and more like all she could do was offer them small moments of happiness with the time they spent together, and watch them suffer. As time went on, it became clear what their ultimate fate would be, and Morie's parents spoke with her often about the situation to try to help the girl understand and mentally prepare.
As if such was possible, when her life had revolved around her little brother and sister.
The uncaring inevitable came to pass, first taking Morie's six-year-old sister. Morie thought she understood that there had been nothing she could do... and for a short while, she was able to pretend she believed that--kept a straight face for her brother, while he was still here, acted the part of the strong, reliable, loving older sister as well as she could manage. When time came to take him away too, though, the cracked glass shattered.
It wasn't her fault, but that didn't stop her from looking back on everything--analyzing about every moment she had spent. She wished she had learnt more to help, wished she had spent more time with them in general, wished she had been not just a good sister, but a perfect one. She wished she had given them more happiness in their short lives. She would've given her everything for them to have been healthy, but she hadn't done enough. It didn't matter if she had been capable of that or not--she hadn't done enough.
So caught in the web of her own mind, Morie began to feel like she was failing her parents as well, thinking she was unable to help them grieve and comfort them in her state, though she made efforts to. It added to the crushing weight on her that she was powerless to budge despite her desperation to escape.
The only relief Morie found was in a longtime family friend who had met her father in college, a man named Henry. He was a psychologist who was good at what he did, which Morie found out first-hand as he spent more and more time with the family during their hardships. He was able to slow the spiraling, negative thoughts Morie drowned in, and she found herself hoping he was able to help her parents in a similar manner, where she could not.
It turned out he couldn't. Morie was spared seeing any evidence of the event, but she was whisked away from school one day, and by the end of it she had learnt her parents were dead, a murder-suicide.
It was sudden, and unbelievable to Morie, but the more she listened, the more she was convinced by others that the explanation that her father had finally snapped from losing two of his children was reasonable. At least, as reasonable as anything could sound in her upturned world. The guilt of failing her siblings came back anew, Morie wishing she had been able to pull herself out of her own sadness enough to help her parents.
Morie was the last of her family, because she was selfish and weak and always preoccupied with herself. Guilt and self-loathing gripped her. She saw no way to shut down her hostile mind, save for her death--
The family friend, Henry. A familiar face, willing to talk to her. As before, he helped. Not entirely. Not perfectly. But talking to him somehow helped, when nothing anyone else said could even register in Morie's mind. He adopted her, and helped her begin to recover. Slowly, ever so painfully slowly, Morie began to come to grips with her reality.


Morie kept herself pointedly distant from her new foster family, but they treated her well, and kept her from fully shutting out the world, instead encouraging her natural inclinations to help others.
More than a little lost, but knowing she couldn't let herself stop for fear of giving up, the now fourteen-year-old Morie focused her attention on her newfound powers. As she explored them, she reached out and met other powered individuals, being pulled into some minor crime to fit in with the crowd. Quickly though, she found herself feeling unappreciated and only wanted for her ability to heal wounds. On top of that, despite all that happened, even minor crime made Morie feel terribly guilty. She had spent much of her life striving to be a role model for her siblings, and only found herself wishing she could have been even better for them after they were gone--at her core, she was not a villain.
That group of petty-crime doers split, a couple along with Morie looking instead to do good with some extra recruits. This group went on for longer, and Morie felt like she fit in more, but eventually things fell through again. Made to feel unimportant, unliked, whatever. It was a group of young teens. Not much more could be expected.
Tired of the unorganized and ineffective ragtag teams, Morie reached out to the PRT, wondering if someone her age could help against villains in at least some official capacity.
It turned out there was an opportunity for more than she could have hoped for: The Wards.
The whole thing was not a hard sell to the girl. Soon enough, Morie was packing her things, saying goodbye to her foster family to move to Redline, Maine. Fashionista offered to house the girl, at least for the time being, which Morie accepted after a brief show of hesitance--the woman made it difficult to be guarded around her, which was a trait that quickly began to work on endearing her to Morie despite any appearances the teen put up.

---

[POWERS]
Current Designation: Striker 6 (Brute 4), Master?

Extra Copies:
Morie can create lifeless exact replicas of herself. There doesn't seem to be a hard limit to how many she can create, but each one takes about two weeks to complete while Morie goes about her day-to-day life. She can speed up the process by focusing on the task, capable of creating a copy in about 12 hours at her fastest, though this drains her energy quickly and makes her ravenously hungry. A small amount of her power is also required to keep copies from natural bodily decay, meaning too many in storage will also keep her permanently tired.
Morie can instantly transfer her consciousness to any one of these copies to control them, but can only control a single one at any given moment, the body she comes from becoming a lifeless copy. So far, she's made a point to keep track of her original body and always return to it, but in theory she could lose that body and be mostly unaffected due to these being exact copies (at time of creation).
When a copy dies, Morie's consciousness is sent back to the last living body she controlled.

Biological Assimilation:
Morie can absorb biological matter she comes into physical contact with and make it wholly part of her own body. This includes wounds and illnesses, taking on the injury and the bacteria/viruses herself, healing her target in exchange.
Similar to her other power, this is a slow-to-use ability that shines with prep time. Given a few hours, she can fully absorb another human body (one of her copies always, up until now), using and storing the matter to heal herself and become twice as strong, fast, and durable. The more matter she assimilates, the more these factors increase, with no known limit yet. Due to needing to make physical contact with the matter, this isn't something she can do passively, unlike her copy creation.

Generally, she stores a few copies that have absorbed around 10 other copies of herself, making those bodies 10x as strong as her baseline human self. One copy she continues to feed, seeing if she can reach a limit to her power, though progress is slow due to both the time needed per copy, and due to the fact that she often uses those copies to cure others of their injuries and ailments. This 'Super Morie' body is currently at fifty-three copy assimilations.

[SKILLS]
- Relatively athletic for her age and size, due to training for the past couple of years.
- Basic hand-to-hand combat knowledge, basic training with weapons.
- Is musically inclined. Shy about it, but has a nice singing voice and enjoys learning and practicing various instruments during her rare free time. Prone to humming quietly to herself, and tapping her feet or fingers to a tune only she can hear.
- Driven. Having Morie by one's side is having a steadfast ally that one can rely on. She might not be a particularly fast learner, but she's a dedicated one.
- Not so much a skill rather than a side-effect of her powers, but Morie exhibits very little fear in regards to dangers to herself. She still experiences fear, and physical pain is never a pleasant experience, but it's easy enough for her to talk herself past any trepidation. This can lead to her being a surprisingly vicious and ruthless adversary--after all, trading an eye for an eye is nearly always favoured for Morie. As an aside, she still very much experiences acute fear for the safety of others.

[OTHER]
- Morie has something of a morbid fascination with death (and pain, to a lesser extent), due to her history and powers. She's already experienced dying herself multiple times--which isn't something most people can say--while at the same time does not have to fear permanent death even in terrifyingly dangerous situations.
- 4. ♫ | 5. ♫

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Name: Thelonious Kastrati

Alias: Constellation

Nicknames: Thelony

Age: 17

Gender: A boi

Personality: Thelonious is somewhat awkward, with a pretty quiet disposition and a few words. He is noted to be highly enamored by ‘cute, fluffy animals’, and possesses a keen sense of intuition of trustworthiness. Thelonious is pretty protective of those folks he happens to like, though those that he had a bad experience of could expect to be suddenly abandoned in the middle of a fight.

Aside from that, Thelonious is incredibly petty. Ruin his day, or his property? He’ll do the same, but he’ll try to make it a bit worse for whoever pissed on his parade. He is pretty much the embodiment of karma in this regard; actions will come back around, so better be nice to the guy, or else you’ll find yourself randomly inconvenienced by small, but infuriating things. Rule of thumb with Thelonious, then, is that he always returns to sender.

Appearance:

Biography: Thelonious wasn’t from Redline originally. Nor was he originally a citizen of the United States, either. His earliest memories, at least as far as he is willing to admit, traces back to their apartment in the city of Pristina, Kosovo, as the firstborn son of Selim and Jelena Kastrati. He was not born as ‘Thelonious’ either, but as Valon Kastrati. That is all long behind him, however.

Either way, Thelonious doesn’t remember all too much of his home country, as his family left it when he was five years old due to the highly volatile situation that it was in. They first arrived in New York City, and then moved up further north into Maine, where they finally settled down, somewhat. There, they all changed their first names, though they kept the surname that they had back in Kosovo. Now, though, they faced a whole new world.

As a child, he had the dream of becoming an astronaut, and reaching out towards the stars. Every night, he would look through the telescope, thinking of impossible dreams as typical for someone of such a young age. He knew every famous star and constellation, recognizing them as they shone in the night sky. Thelonious, as he was called since then, had quite a few difficulties with the English language, and was as such bullied for it in school, though that was simply the first reason. Other causes arose, namely because of his lack of aptitude for sports, and other generic reasons. He was passive though, and simply took it without telling anyone else, as he knew he couldn't fight back against the likes of them. Not like this. He would just get beaten even more. To make matters worse, his mother had been feeling unwell a lot of the time, but she always said that it was just her getting tired at work, which just made Thelonious worry to the point of being nearly physically sick. It seemed that the sorry state of everything was going to stay that way for a very long time.

One day, however, everything changed. Thelonious' mother had fallen ill. All those headaches weren’t just from the stress of work; it was a brain tumour. Alas, they didn't have the money to pay for the medication/medical bills to aid with her situation. She was, in all respects, dying.

In desperation, Thelonious’ father and uncle went to a dangerous, but deceptively friendly connection. They did not know what price they might pay in the process of getting the funds they required, but surely any sacrifice was worth it, if only her life was saved? By this point, Thelonious’ mother’s cancer was close to getting to a terminal stage, and there was little time left before it would begin to be difficult to dislodge.

That connection that they went to, it turned out, was a group for organized crime, who had them meet outside at night, where the Milky Way itself was visible in the sky. They were apparently willing to provide the money that the Kastratis needed, if only they would do something in return. That something, however, was heinous in its nature. Murderous, even. The boss wanted someone dead, and the assassination was their price. Thelonious father and uncle balked at this. They had expected something that would involve them and themselves alone, but it now seemed that this would be a life for a life. Now that they know who was the target, though, they cannot leave. Not until they say yes to the deal.

And so, the gangsters took hold of Thelonious’ father and uncle, and began to beat them to submission. The crime lord made him watch, forcibly keeping his eyes open even as he tried to look away. Here, he felt rage, and chaos. Rage at his father for believing that it was a good idea to plead the mafia for aid. Rage at the mafia for what they were now doing, and what they would make them do in exchange for a promise they may never carry out. He managed to close his eyes shut, if only for a moment, and heard only the chaos from his surroundings; the laughing of vicious thugs, the cries of pain, the sounds of blunt implements impacting against flesh. Rage. Disorder. They were all his to bear.

At that moment, an entity that skirted in the dimensions far above the ken of mortal perceptions found a suitable vessel. A shard unraveled, and in a split second, Thelonious was enlightened. He could now create the shiniest of lights, the fiercest of flames. And so, instead of his family being the victims that night, the gangsters were annihilated. Orbs of starlight blinded them, before searing hot orbs set clothing and flesh alight. The chaotic constellation that ensued wiped out the gangsters, purging them from the face of the earth. The gang were all dead, and the Kastrati clan still lived. The money, which had been in a suitcase as a fleeting proof of the deal they could have made, was now theirs for the taking. His mother will live, but at what cost?

Later in the morning, as the Kastratis recovered and spoke to one another about the events of last night, the PRT showed up at their door. PRT investigations found traces of ionized gas within the area of concern, as well as charred bodies belonging to some of the most notorious gangsters in the state. Investigations pinpointed just who these gangsters were supposed to meet at the night, which led them to this moment. It was clear, however, that Thelonious cannot remain in regular society like this. His parents were somewhat resistant to the idea that their only child is to go away from them, but they relented after about a week as the ultimatum became heavier. In exchange for around the clock protection for them, Thelonious was to enter the Wards Program.

Powers:

Cosmogenesis (Blaster 6): Thelonious produces and channels plasma energy. He is as such able to create and maintain up to four miniature stars at a given time, with three distinct modes that operate in a sliding scale of heat and light. They can move at around 7 to 8 meters per second, with any turns requiring pauses in movement.

Mode 1 (Searing Star): Capable of melting through most metals, as well as turning sand into glass at physical contact. By far the dimmest, but the most potent in terms of destructive potential. These can immolate most materials that they may come across.

Mode 2 (Blinding Star): Little to no destructive capability, but the brightness emanating when it is created acts as a powerful flashbang, temporarily disorienting and blinding those who had not protected their eyes.

Mode 3 (Main Sequence): Seemingly unremarkable, these main sequence stars, as he calls them, are able to sear wood and stone, and can be difficult to look at for prolonged periods. This is the foundation from which the other two derive from in their creation.

Skills: When he was still unpowered, Thelonious was noted to be a great painter.
Other: No girlfriend since birth, sadly.

Aurorea

Name: Eleonore Evans

Alias: Aurorea

Nicknames: Elle, Evie

Age: 16

Gender: Female

Personality: A person with a certain sense of sobriety and maturity when it comes to the use of powers and facing danger. In fact, she is one to look things in the eye once she's steeled her resolve and will face down a charging boar or such without batting an eye if she feels she must. A kind of resolve that, when felt to be most necessary on her part, can keep her standing even when terror or fear or despair would strike deep into her psyche otherwise. A strong sense of will to be sure, one that pushes her to work diligently and hard for generally different reasons than her past once did. Yet this resolve is one that she mainly tries to apply to her work and goals, as she is still very much human. The risk of working herself to the bone or such is very much a realistic thing, and if something got to her badly enough one might see flashes of how she used to be all those years ago. Only flashes, but flashes of a seriously bad time/state all the same.

She would be the last person to really take a compliment well, though, usually just getting nervous and trying to dismiss herself and her own contributions as simply another person trying their best. Even if her overall state has improved since her triggering at the age of twelve, and a lot of work was behind that in turn, the scars of her past aren't something that would go away in full either. She indeed still has a lower evaluation of herself still, can be prone to making a self-deprecating joke potentially at some point, and tries to retain a sense of sincere humility despite the strength she wields. This lattermost thing is done in part out of a fear of getting too prideful or cocky, though continually undervaluing herself isn’t inherently something good to do either. It leaves her feeling a certain extent lonely or distanced from others in general, even if just by some small yet distinct amount.

She is definitely more sociable and friendly and such than she once was, and this is something her two surviving friends (who have remained friends with her back home even since the incident) have been able to attest to. Among other people. She can likewise be rather empathetic, however, willing to bend an ear as well as be kind to those about her...agreeing with them or not. However, she will push back if she feels people are trying to take advantage of her or force her into a corner. She can become notably more dogged and angry in such a situation, choosing ‘fight’ instead of ‘flight’ as she once did years ago.

Appearance: (Two different links are below, just in case.)

Original Link

Imgur Link

Biography:

No matter how good she looked, no matter how hard she tried to learn and do her best at things, it would all never be enough in the end. The most beautiful child in the family, the second most intelligent beyond her genius older sister, and yet it wasn't ever enough. The pressure to succeed above the rest was held over her head each and every day, and yet no matter how much she studied or the programs she was in it was not enough. The best grades, the best performance in every fashion was expected of her. To let down the ever more weighty expectations of her parents was something that would spell the end of herself. It would spell being a failure. A nothing. Becoming nothing. Existing as nothing. A fraud, clad in the visage of something that once had potential. She held up her appearance in front of others well, but behind closed doors with her siblings and around her few close friends the exhausted eyes and depression would emerge in their grim honesty. Those who stuck with her tried to help keep her afloat, but she always felt bad for it. Like she didn't deserve the care or assistance. She felt the love was wasted on her, like she wasn't worth the good things. Life hadn't always been like this, but as she’d gotten old enough the pressures had been ramped up. How had her older siblings survived this? By letting the pressures fall onto her so they could live freer lives. But she couldn't. She couldn't let her younger sibling go through it, but she didn't want to either.

It was tearing her apart from the inside out, and yet she couldn't see anything in herself but a monster when she looked in the mirror. No matter how much she exercised, no matter how much she did to make herself look good, no matter how much she did to put on the best appearances and graces. Twisted flesh, a famiscile of humanity, a scrap that would one day meet her doom in the endless depths of failure. A grand self-loathing, but one that very much existed nonetheless. Her parents had come from almost nothing, yet had eventually risen to upper-middle-class status through their lives. Yet in their desire to raise their kids to even better lives, to not have to worry about all they’d faced and more, they had placed insurmountable pressures and expectations on them. Pressures and expectations they strictly clung to alongside their fears for their children, blind to the consequences they couldn’t imagine happening and blamed on other factors because they couldn’t handle the alternative.

Then came the day she went on that school summer trip overseas at the age of eleven, heading to Hong Kong to visit the area. It was in part an escape, a vacation paid for by the parents of the kids on the trip. Seeing a new place, getting new experiences, and what her parents had valued most....visiting a scientific facility tied to some company her parents were hoping for her to eventually work at. Here she was, in a foreign place and far from home, getting away for a bit, and yet she would ultimately learn that her parents would be waiting at the airport on the last day to be chaperones for the group’s trip home. It would send her into a small panic, there on the morning of the last day of the trip, all after she had been relaxing a bit with her friends and had begun to unwind. But no, she’d heard the other chaperones in the hall discussing it.

Yet just as she stepped out with a couple of friends to get some fresh air, mostly at their urging before they all had to go to the airport, what had once been a peaceful but busy morning would turn sour in a heartbeat. Disaster, as it were, would come to her this time-...

…

…

…







Her parents and herself, even her two friends, would be found as survivors in the aftermath of the attack. Among others. Yet they were the lucky ones compared to most of the field trip’s members. After two months of care and observation, she would be allowed to go back home with her parents after they’d stayed around to be with her. After she and the other survivors all made their way back home, arriving at a small celebration held for them at the airport, a memorial would be held for the dead only a week later. Not all showed up for it, but she and her parents were noted as being among those who were capable of doing so.

From here life would change, even change everything she'd known before. Her parents, herself, everything. The pain and ache of those years of stress, lots of ensuing therapy both mental and physical, parahuman counseling and power practice, and lots of talking with her own folks about things long kept buried on both sides of the gap. All out in the open over the next six years. It would take several years of notable work and effort, but by the time she turned 17 years old her mental state would find itself a far call from back then or prior. Likewise her parents and family would be very much changed, and for the first time in years they could speak with one another in ways they never had been able to before. Even so, the scars and lessons of the past were not things any of them could ignore…they would last for a lifetime. But from this would come learning. And from learning strength.

Eventually she would put in to join the Wards, the desire to build up more good in the world by using what she could do having come to the forefront of her mind. In fact, it had become her own goal that even her parents wholly supported. Her own chosen path. It was something she’d have never been able to dream of or imagine at the age of eleven, and yet now it was a reality. A grim one, but a reality. However, the flow of some last-second paperwork and forms would put a wrench in the works. In the end it would delay her joining up with the rest of her peers, much to her chagrin, though it has not dulled her intent or goals at the very least.

Power:

{{Classification: Breaker (Brute 9/Thinker 6/Mover 3)}}

Activating her power, Eleanore takes on an idealized form of herself. Gorgeous, curvaceous and impossible to ignore. Literally glowing, her eyes an unnatural, but stirring orange-gold. Sculpted, yet at once not unappealingly muscular, this form--upon close inspection--is not actually composed entirely of flesh. Instead, exotic veins of orange-gold crystal draw intricate patterns across her visage. Clothes/costume/belongings are included into the form when she shifts (including her prosthetic leg). Her eyes likewise glitter unnaturally with refracted light.

While in this state, any wounds, including lost limbs, are replaced entirely by crystalline matter. Painless in this state, Eleanore gains a form of super strength and drastically enhanced durability. Yet, rather than be physically immovable, she is rendered lighter than air and so permeable to energy--kinetic or otherwise--that attacks simply diminish as they strike or pass through her. As a side effect of this, Eleanore is also capable of willingly/passively ignoring forces that would typically act on her person, such as gravity, allowing her a form of highly maneuverable--like 20 mph max speed--flight.

Finally, Eleanore's power affords her two other subtle, if potent, abilities:

• The first of these makes her hyper aware of her body and the attention of the presence of everyone and everything around her. Functionally this amounts to extreme bodily awareness/control and a precise understanding of anything occupying space within a small 4 meter radius of her person.
• Additionally--and particularly subtle--is the fact that her power gives her preternatural memory and learning efficiency. While this has no clear effect at first, it can result in the ability to rapidly adapt to situations, combat or otherwise.

However, all this power comes at a steep price for while she can remain in her breaker form for an exceptionally long time, when she exits it her power exacts its cost. Non-fatal injuries reappear and her bodily awareness takes time to fade, resulting in often debilitating pain. The limb she lost during her trigger is once more gone, the crystal that replaced it in her breaker state, dissolving into nothing. Yet, though not a discrete or obviously power-related effect, the crushing weakness of her physical and mental capabilities comes rushing back as soon as she exits her form. All that proficiency, coordination and competence gone, she's returned to her pitiable all-too-human state and as if her trigger wasn't years behind her...the emotions come rushing back.

While these effects fade with time, they tend to lend the user towards maintaining their breaker state as often as possible to avoid them.

Yet, if overused, the state itself begins to warp. The beauty becomes inhuman with extensively prolonged use (days or many hours), taking on an uncanny valley sort of effect as it subtly twists over time. Coordination and awareness of her person becomes...unreliable, failing unpredictably. Awareness of one's surroundings becomes crushing, twisting to make her aware of people's every movement, their gaze, their attention as it pushes her mind to remembering the judging gaze of her parents.

After all, you know what they say. Great power comes with great responsibilities...and in this case, that responsibility is crushing.





Skills:

• Cooking - Is actually a very good if not also naturally talented cook in general, for someone of her age or not, in part due to the years of classes before her triggering and then years afterward under better conditions. Can be said to be a form of stress relief for her, once a coping mechanism of the past that has become a more healthily-managed one by current times. But if you see her stress baking three dozen cookies, or something extraordinary like that whilst she is on her own or not making them for some occasion or intent, check if she’s ok…she is most likely stressed out about or focusing a bit too much on something.
• Music - The violin and piano are her instruments of choice, having been drilled in them and even now having some rather solid skills with them for her age. Picked up the former of her own volition after years of stressful classes with the latter, though with time and work with therapy the latter came to finally become something she does enjoy and practices as well by current times. Not as good at music as she is at cooking by a distinct margin, but she still enjoys it.
• Video games - A newer hobby, one picked up after the incident and getting back home with her parents. Life became better, more relaxed, and she took up
• Exercise - A thing she did as part of her life before the trigger event, but likewise worked with years of therapy into something she finds relaxing and wants to keep up with in a healthy manner. A far healthier manner than she once did at an even younger age. Took up swimming where she used to only do running, and whilst she does use a treadmill these days she has become a more solid swimmer and used it to learn how to help control and pace her breathing.

Other:

• Her favorite pets are cats.
• Her favorite food ranges from spicy far-eastern fare to savory Italian and Italian-American dishes. When it comes to cooked food at home versus takeout, most seem to be surprised when she notes not minding it at all whatsoever either way.
• The beach is her favorite place to go for vacation.
• Wears a very well-covering but simple/durable mask before transforming, as she looks far different in her Breaker state and it hides her identity fully, which is integrated into her Breaker form by the power itself and hides her appearance when she de-transforms.
• Height = 171cm

Alias: Avalon

Name: Ava Watson

Age: 25

Loyalty: Hero/Guardian

Gender: Female

Height: 6’0 or 183cm

Weight: 188lbs or 85.3kgs

Appearance:

Civilian - Ava is a tall Caucasian woman standing at 6’ even and weighing 178lbs. She’s been gifted with what we’ll call ‘great genetics’ and has a clear background in sports, that or she’s just been running around as a cape for a while, maybe both, either way, she’s built. She has long black hair that she keeps just tidy enough for it to not cover her face, her eyes are a bright amber colour with slit pupils. When asked about her eyes she just lies and says that she got contact lenses on.

She likes all-black clothes, leaning more in favour of long pants and sleeves if given the choice, but if the weather is particularly hot she’ll resign her preference and wear shorts and short sleeves. Though regardless of the heat she’ll always keep something on that’ll cover up her right calf, nobody needs to see her jellyfish sting marks.



Cape - Avalon’s costume is a dark grey armoured bodysuit that’s designed to have a moderate amount of elasticity given the nature of her powers. The armour is mat white and is almost always polished, the plates of armour are slotted onto the bodysuit in a way that allows them to separate when necessary allowing the elasticity of the bodysuit to hold everything together. She has a helmet that’s outfitted with a basic communicator and has an emergency protocol to automatically pop off her head if it detects Avalon is getting too large to fit into it anymore.



Biography:
“Wait so you want me to write all this shit down, on pen and paper so you’ve got it on record? Fucken’... Fine. It isn’t going to be any less vulgar. In fact, it’ll be worse!... Fucken prick… Okay so, where do I start? Umm… I guess from the beginning.”

It all started I was born and raised in Darwin, the place is hot as balls. You could cook an egg on a playground slide if you didn’t mind it tasting like ass. The heat didn’t stop me from joining the boxing and basketball teams in school though, I kicked ass by the way. Sports were great and all but While I did love sports, nothing could top biology and environmental science, knowing how and why animals did shit was fucking awesome. After school I got a job in a

“Fucken cross that shit out and boom that should do for that bit, nobody gives a shit about what I did as a civilian. They just want cape shit… I guess I gotta talk about that time. Fuck.”

Have you ever been stung by a box jellyfish? Well as someone who got stung by three of the bastards I’ll be the first to tell you. THAT SHIT FUCKING SUCKS! imagine if you will. Someone injected molten steel underneath your skin and just left the needle in you, you’re unable to remove the needle because if you do it’ll inject the same shit into your hand, add on the fact that you’re body has tensed up and you're unable to move because of fucking paralysis. Yeah, that wasn’t how me and the girls envisioned that night going. Look before you leap kids…

“Okay next up hmm… Probably my career in Darwin. Hmm, how do I word this without mentioning-ugh that?… Fuck it.”

This part is Darwin is a pretty small city all things considered, so I didn’t get up to much shit while I was there. The place is practically a fucken gas station compared to a city like Redline, so it was kinda just me and a stupid bitch select few others. playing whack-a-mole with superpowered villains. Badguy shows up, I put them in hospital they aren’t a problem anymore, it was pretty simple. Shit got boring though so I moved to Redline. Plus my comrades can cover Darwin without me.

“Now that shit’s out of the way, onto the crap they’re probably familiar with.”

Blah blah blah, aggravated assault with a parahuman power bad. Blah blah blah, methods too violent to be allowed. Fucken pussies so you guys kicked my ass and set me up with your Redline’s guardians group. I mean the company isn’t bad but like, I’d hard smash like every guardian here being honest. I would be better off on my own for sure. Give me a few weeks and the mutants would be fucked. But no Assushi Fuckhead had to rope me in. Also, I’m putting it here on record, I kicked loads of ass before you guys started messing with my shit.

“Yeah that works. And if the director doesn't like he can suck a fat one.”



General:
Australian - Ava is the thunder from down under and isn’t shy about it, in fact, she takes pride in her heritage and will be more than happy to talk to people about her home country. And since she’s only recently moved to America she’s still carrying a lot of her Australian ‘quirks’. Excessive vulgar language and weird slang are ingrained into her head. If you asked she’d give you a top ten of her favourite curse words. “Fuckin’ oath.”

Jokester - Ava loves to mess around and generally makes fun in 90% of situations. Fighting a villain? Oh, you bet she’s cracking jokes and talking some mad shit. Someone says ‘but’ or anything that could be vaguely considered as toilet humour she’s got a chance of chuckling under her breath. She is very rarely serious when she says anything, though when she’s serious, you’ll know. “What? Come on that was a good one.”

Permissive - Ava is loose both in how she enforces and follows rules, she sees most rules as loose guidelines and this outlook has gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion. This isn’t to say that she dislikes people who enforce the rules, but she just finds them to be a bit of a drag. “I only bend the rules a little.”

Fists rated E for Everyone - Ava is incredibly stubborn and always ready for a fight. If you give her enough of a reason she will throw hands. Obviously, it isn’t her first choice but if you’ve pissed her off enough and she can feasibly get you into a fighting ring with her, she’ll try to. “Some messages need to be beaten into someone.”

Prideful - While it isn’t always on display Ava has a high opinion of herself and when people attempt to refute her image she can react ‘poorly’. This is mainly just a problem when people challenge her or insinuate that she’s weak in some way. This can and has led to her getting punchy. “Sorry I don’t know if I heard you right? Mind repeating that?”

Derangement:
Bad doctor - Ever since Ava’s trigger she’s become desensitised to pain, not just her own but that of those around her. This inability to recognize the severity of the wounds she takes normally isn’t an issue, it’s more when she’s unable to realise how brutally she’s beating her opponents that issues arise. “It’s just a flesh wound.”



Skill:
Boxing - Ava used to do boxing but left the sport once she triggered knowing full well her power would give her an unfair advantage. But that hasn’t stopped her from keeping on practising her form. Normally she doesn’t use her boxing skills in a parahuman fight, but if she feels the fight is a significant threat she might just bust out the boxing moves.

Animal knowledge - Ava has always been fond of animals and growing up in the same country as the legendary Steve Irwin leaves an impression on you. This isn’t to say she knows why a Rainbow Lorikeet is coloured the way it is or why Cassowary is so angry, but she knows things.

Pain tolerance - Ava’s been scraping as an overconfident regen brute for a while so she’s become rather familiar with pain. It’s not to say she doesn’t feel it more that she’s learnt to deal with it and isn’t usually hampered by it during combat.

Classification: Striker 7 (Striker)

Mechanics: Ava’s body functions as a living battery able to absorb, store and distribute electrical energy through touch, she’s able to sense how much energy is in her reserves at any given time. She cannot output and absorb electricity simultaneously, and if an outside source of electricity hits her she is forced to absorb it (taser, exposed wire or electricity blaster). Her body is fueled by the electrical energy making her immune to fatigue and removing her need to sleep, eat, drink or breathe as long as she has reserves remaining to draw from, if she does choose to eat her body also converts energy produced by eating the food and puts it into her electrical energy reserves, the gains are equivalent to the energy she’d get from the food normally. In the circumstance that Ava ever used up her reserves entirely, she would pass out, waking after a good while, though she can be roused early if she’s given some more energy to work with.

Ava’s energy reserves have a cap that can be maintained indefinitely as long as she doesn’t need to regenerate.

Ava’s physical strength and durability increase as her energy reserve fills up. Her enhanced strength and durability do not cost any reserves to maintain and when her reserves are full she’s able to lift and throw ten tonnes one hundred meters, bend metals and punch hard enough to make most opponents reconsider their life choices. Durability wise Ava would be tough enough to ignore small arms fire without suffering any damage and trade blows with brutes of equivalent strength without
being turned into silly putty. Additionally, she also gains a foot in height and almost 100 pounds when her reserves are at their peak
Ava is able to expend energy reserves to heal wounds, superficial wounds like grazes and shallow cuts won’t be healed automatically but large or lethal wounds will. The rate of the healing is adaptive based on the severity of the wound, so when a wound is at its worst it will be healed faster, it is fast enough to stabilise most wounds ranging from being impaled to being severed down the middle. Obviously, things like total body vaporisation and her head being turned into a fine red mist can’t be recovered from.

Ava is able to overcharge herself if she absorbs more energy than her reserves are built to hold. Overcharging herself allows her to enhance her strength, size and durability beyond what she is able to normally with a currently unknown upper limit. The trade-off for this extra boost is that the effects are only temporary, as any amount of energy that is above her regular reserves bleeds out over time, and whatever state she ends up in after she’s absorbed enough energy to overcharge will be shortlived 10 minutes at most without any recharging.

Equipment:

Suit and helmet - Ava’s costume itself is a special piece of equipment given its ability to accommodate her power to a certain degree. Needless to say, she didn’t make it herself, and much to her suitmaker's dismay tends to get it damaged on the regular. She also has rubber soles on her suit so that she can maintain her charge in certain situations.

Favourite power: Gotta be shapeshifting, like full-on free shapeshifting. Who doesn’t want to be a dinosaur?