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Evil Ghost Note I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU
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I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU
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OP
Evil Ghost Note I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU
11200 posts
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
in 4524 days
Basic Information
Name: Shannon Jacqueline Balore
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Silkworm
Gender: Female
Age: 21
Height: 5'6ft
Weight: 147lb
Home District: Westgate
Appearance
Hair Color: Red
Eye Color: Brown
Ethnicity: Irish and Israeli
Physical Appearance: Shannon has the appearance of a Librarian, or a very nerdy girl. Shannon right off the bat doesn't make herself appear like the most receptive person out there. She either gives off an aura of apathy or temper. She doesn't like people, and she tries to make herself look unapproachable so she doesn't have to deal with them. Her movements are slow and controlled, hangs swinging back and forth gently as she moves. She doesn't move a lot if she doesn't have to, and likes to remain still as possible. Her most prominent feature is her red ginger hair, which is wavy, messy, and hangs back length, sometimes resting on her shoulders, or lying on her front. Not kept in a particular style, but she keeps this hair very well maintained. It's an effort, but it pays off in how clean it is. But, it gives everyone who looks at her the idea that she's Irish right off the bat - Which is true to an extent. Shannon is Caucasian, specifically Irish and Israeli. Not that anyone would be able to tell exactly from a look. What supports this is the fact that Shannon is absolutely covered in dark freckles. The most people will see is the freckles on her face (Around her cheeks, nose - yeah, that area), but the rest of her body has plenty of freckles too. Her skin more or less has a freckled texture. As for Shannon's skin, she clearly has the appearance of someone who doesn't get too much sunlight as her skin is pale somewhat. Contributing to the theory that she doesn't do too much physical work is her general build and frame. She has the look of someone who seldom does any real physical activity and never lifted anything heavy in her life. I cannot say that Shannon is a skinny girl. She's a little on the pudgy side, not morbidly obese, but she has body fat packed in her stomach and limbs. Her body shape would have to be apple-shaped overall - few would really notice it due to the dress she wears accentuating her other features and making the best of her body shape. Because of her extra-weight, she has a bit mass in her feminine parts. Her breasts sag a bit however. She has plenty of blemishes, stretch marks, and her face has a few pimples here and there. She hasn't done in life to warrant more than a few scars, so she doesn't have too many scars. There's a small scar on her right cheek from the one time she fell over. Shannon's face is square shaped, and her facial features are rather rounded. It all starts with her rather full cheeks, they are notably large, but they are rather round. Her nose is large, thick, and quite rounded in terms of the nostrils. It sticks out forward somewhat. Shannon has a small mouth, but she has rather big lips that have that feminine thickness to them. She has a medium sized forehead. Her eyes are medium sized, round, and usually have a sharp glare to them. Shannon's ears are medium sized and very round.
Attire: Shannon prefers to dress heavily, and comfortably, with loose clothes that don't stick to her in the slightest. However, her outfit tends to be brightly colored or flashy. She can make her own clothes, and what she makes tends to be on par with designer clothes. Clothes with beautiful patterns, embroidered with pictures, anything that she thinks is fabulous. It gives people the impression that she is a rich girl. She likes to wear jewelry, like bracelets, and rings, usually this is the cheap, dollar-store, brand of jewelry. Then, of course, there's her wide variety of thick-framed glasses. She either wears round, and more squarish glasses.
Personality
Outward & Innate Personality: Shannon a bit of an asshole, yes. People who come across her tend to find out that she's quite the bitter young woman. She's quick to dislike people, and is very quick to let them know that. Her attitude has earned her quite the reputation, and usually earns her more enemies than anything. It isn't something that bothers her that much due to her general disdain for a majority of humankind. Because she's her own brand of anti-social. Though, she does have a soft, sensitive, side that she shows to a select few. Shannon is incredibly cynical, jaded, and pessimistic. She rarely sees the good in things, and always thinks that nobody is nice "just because they are". She's very intelligent and observant. She tends to think things through well, she's good at making educated guesses, going off all the information she has. She's accurate most of the time. Though she has a habit of over thinking when she needs to act. To say the least, she always has her guard up at all times. In conversation, she is very snarky, sassy, and doesn't shy away from giving her opinion at every possible moment.
She tends to have the belief that every person she meets is an idiot, until proven otherwise, that is. She tends come off as condescending, stuck, and like she has a superiority complex. She has plenty of views on current "issues" like LGBT rights, the various wars going on, and the headline stories. However, she is very passionate about her views, and won't hesitate to argue with people who have different views. One thing people learn about Shannon is that, in arguments, she's stubborn as all hell and will rarely see things differently. In truth, Shannon generally likes to appear as if she's a super intelligent. Not hesitating to spot information, say big words, and generally acting smarter than everyone else. She tries hard to look like she's clever, when she really isn't as clever as she thinks. This has caused her a bit of problems when she messes up. She's very protective of the people she cares about. Friends, family, etc, she treats. Shannon has a bit of a temper, a very short one. When people annoy/aggravate her, even in the slightest, she tends to make it known that she doesn't like them. Because, in her eyes, she's not here to make friends with everyone, and if you're arrogant, or an asshole, then you're obviously not worth her time. She'll cut all ties with people she dislikes fast as possible, and never give them a second thought. Sexuality-wise, Shannon is a lesbian, and she's proud, however she keeps it to herself and lets everyone (annoyingly enough) assume that she's straight.
Hobbies/Interests: Fashion, fashion, fashion. It might come as a given because of her power, but Shannon is a fashionista. She seems to always know what the best outfits are, and who has the best tastes. It's just because of her love of high fashion. She also likes books, writing, and poetry - She does indulge herself in some writing in her free times. But her favorite would have to be classical literature. Shannon also likes media - her favorite genre would be crime and mystery, like Law & Order. She also watches some cartoons (Like Disney movies) sometimes. Sometimes meaning when no one is looking. Shannon is a fan of ancient History, and Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and so on, cultures.
Skills/Talents: Skills? Well, as it was stated above (And below), Shannon is rather intelligent because she was pushed towards academics. She knows quite a bit, mostly in the vocabulary fields. A particular skill that she has picked up is that she has the sharp eye of a detective. Both of these put together is why she fancies calling herself a detective. Shannon was also pushed into learning other languages. She picked the one that interested her the most, French. She has participated in quite a few French classes. Before her mother died, Shannon was also taught a bit of Hebrew - Not enough that she could maintain a conversation. Finally, Shannon is good at Chess (and Checkers somewhat). Not that she finds too many people to play with.
Prized Possession: There is no item that Shannon truly treasures.
Quote: "Oh, you're mad? Sorry that you couldn't match me in wits and had to resort to violence."
History/Bio: Shannon was born to a rather good life. Being the bastard daughter of her father O'Connor Balore, and her mother Avigail Durtang, whom quickly got married a few months after she was born. They each had rather modest jobs that granted her family with plenty of money to support them, and eventually indulge them in their hobbies - But they weren't rich. So in a way, Shannon lived in the upper-middle class. Nice house, plenty of nice people to be around, and everything was nice and dandy. Shannon was sent to school aiming to be above average. Her parents nurtured this growth in intelligence after and before school, but they didn't push her too far. It was just an activity they made her do so their daughter was. They tried to make it seem less of work, and more of something fun, and it quickly became something Shannon showed off to other kids - Something that made her better than them. This is how Shannon got rather close to her parents. While getting close to a teacher of hers named Reagan Boyer, whom her parents were friends with. Even after she left kindergarten, she continued to talk to him, and was someone she strives to be, the smartest person she knew.
There isn't much else to say about Shannon's early life other than she continued to grow and mature. However, at the age of six, her powers had developed, or rather, she had discovered them. She was in the middle of a birthday party for the child of one of her father's Co-workers, and she had gotten into a small scuffle with a rather aggressive boy. Who targeted her merely because she had red hair, and tried to pull it out. Shannon freaked out, and every piece of fabric in a good twenty foot radius had been warped and twisted into rather twisted constructs. Shannon and the boy's clothes were destroyed completely, leaving them both nude. Her parents had hauled them out. Not a soul knew what the hell happened, there was enough evidence to connect Shannon to it as everyone else.
However, after that, Shannon discovered that she had an affinity with fabrics. It wasn't anything special, she noticed that fabrics moved to her rhythm. She experimented a bit, and realized that it was all out control over fabrics. She could move them like the traditional elemental type. Shannon came to her parents with this news, and they honestly didn't renounce her or deem her a "freak". They were not oblivious to the world of Meta-humans, and accepted their daughter for what she truly is. But they highly recommended that she uses this power behind closed doors, just out of fear of the people who didn't understand it. So it became a bit of a hobby of hers, along with the rest of her activities, training this ability to it's fullest extent. Learning the ins and outs of this ability, and becoming a master seamstress by default.
She occasionally went to her old teacher Reagan for advice, who was a Meta-human himself (Ceramic Manipulation), and the only other. He taught her a few things, gave her a few pointers. He told Shannon that she could come up with some very creative uses with her power. All she had to do was think outside the box. Reagan acted as a mentor-figure for Shannon's training. Along with teaching her a few moves of his own that could be translated from ceramic to clothing.
Life was going rather smoothly for Shannon. By the time she was nine, she had gotten quite a grasp on her power. She had already learned how to create outfits in a few minutes, and had expanded her control beyond just fabrics. She strived to improve this power even further, and she gotten plenty of opportunities to do so by simple practices such as repairing an outfit, to changing an outfit all together. Just chalking it all up to her being very good with a needle. Personally, she didn't want to participate in sports, and rather focused on her school work and training her power. Though, while in school, she wasn't the type to get along with people that well. She was already quite condescending towards virtually everyone. Shannon had already gotten the firm belief that most people were simply not worth her time, or too much of a mouth breather that they were beyond saving. But her intelligence was something that made other people think she was a simple stepping stone. They made her think she was their friend, only to reveal they only wanted to use her to cheat at tests and ease their way through school. This was simply a catalyst for her belief that everyone wants something, and made her more distant from other people. She made few friends that shared similar beliefs to her.
But her life had changed drastically by the time she was ten. Shannon came home one day, and found her father drinking heavily, crying with his face in his hands. She learned what had happened while she was at school... Reagan had brutally raped and killed Shannon's mother - Apparently having harbored an obsessive desire over Shannon's mother. Using the information he had gotten from Shannon to learn about when and where she'll be, and when no one would be around to. Shannon couldn't possibly understand what happened, and went into a state of shock... Just locking herself into her own room, and never wanting to come out. She was horribly depressed, her entire world had collapsed in on itself. She just couldn't handle it anymore. This was a catalyst for her cynical attitude. One of the people she could trust most used that against her, and killed the one person she was close to. She had gotten the mindset that everyone wants something, no one is truly "nice", and always had something sneaky. It felt like days before Shannon left her room.
Shannon's father went to alcohol in order to cope, he honestly couldn't help his daughter. He got an addiction, but learned of how far he's fallen. He needed to be alone while he suffered. There was only one thing he could do; send her away. He had a friend over in a city called Black Fall, Jacob Javuant, easily his closest friend whom he would do anything for. Black Fall was an unfamiliar city to O'Connor, but he knew of how it was a hot spot for Meta-humans, he knew Shannon would fit in fine. Her father sent Shannon away on a bus to Black Fall, regardless of her protests. Eventually she gave up and accepted it. Mother killed, and sent away when she truly wanted to be close to her father was not a good combination for the rather unstable Shannon.
In Black Fall, Shannon lived in Westgate for what amounted to be a year. The Javuant household lived in a pretty nice house, and they had little kids to stay with (Young Jago and Newt). But Shannon kept herself distant, on many levels. She had no interest in connecting with anyone, or even living. No matter how hard anyone tried. Until she had met her room mate, Deborah Javuant, a girl that was almost the same age as her. Deborah understood her thoughts, knew how she felt, and tried to help her, only to get pushed away by Shannon. Whom automatically assumed she had some ulterior motive. But Deborah was persistent, since she legitimately wanted to help the scorned girl. It worked, Deborah was the only person whom Shannon knew in this alien place, she had no choice but to stick with her. Over time, she had opened herself up to Deborah, and the girl acted as the therapist that Shannon had never gotten. Being the person who's shoulder Shannon cried on. Telling someone how she felt, and releasing all those bottled up emotions felt great. The two young girls connected on a deep level, they became friends fast, and Shannon stopped keeping herself closed off from the world.
That said, life went on as it normally did. Shannon wasn't as pushed into academics as she normally was, but she was still dedicated to school as anyone. After they took a decline, Shannon worked her butt off getting them back up. She figured that it wasn't the end of the world after her mother died, and was making the path to recovery. With the help of Deborah, whom over the months, she was getting very connected to. Hell, Shannon was even developing feelings for the girl - Which she had kept repressed because she was rather unsure of them herself and still had the notion that she have to be hetero-sexual in her head. But no matter how hard she tried to repress them, she knew that they were there, and getting stronger.
But before she had the chance to explore these feelings, Shannon's father came straight to Black Fall, one year later, to get her daughter back. At this point, Shannon was eleven years old. But, she guessed all good things must come to an end. Her opinion of her father had severely degraded, to the point where she downright hated him, not saying a word to him - He had improved too, and respected her enough to give her space. She went back home, and what was easily the most surprising change was the fact that her father had met another woman, Cassidy Belmont, and were expecting a child. They were going to start a family, and her father wanted Shannon there. In all actuality, this made the girl furious, and she rejected her father even more now. Feeling as if he had betrayed her and her feelings. Fortunately, in the meantime, she had kept in touch with Deborah, they had talked to each other over the phone.
However, fate pushed the two together when her father announced that they were moving to Black Fall where they will get married after their first child was born. Shannon was excited to learn that she would be close to her only friend. In a few months, they had moved to a nice spot in West Gate suburbs. (Mostly) Free of crime and the perfect place to raise a new family. A few months later, this new child, named Blathnat Balore - Also known as Sugar. But her very existence made Shannon feel worse about herself. She knew that she was a relic of a life that was long gone, and it would only be a matter of time before she's discarded. Her fears never came true. That said, months after that Cassidy was married into the Balore family.
That said, the next few years were rather unremarkable. Yes, Shannon excelled with her school and her powers. At this point she was seventeen and had (mostly) gotten over the death of her mother. She hadn't gotten close to her sister, nor did she really like it when she got another brother. However, she had warmed up to Sugar after realizing how needlessly heartless and paranoid she was being. The girl was adorable, and she was a great way to practice her power. Making dresses and other outfits for the toddler. However, this was when Shannon and Deborah were closer than ever. They were best friends, but Shannon was on the end of a one sided crush. Shannon just couldn't take it anymore and she just awkwardly confessed her love to her best friend. As bad as Shannon thought it'd be, Deborah returned those feelings happily, having long known about them. However, Shannon nor Deborah's parents would approve of such a relationship. That was the point where they kept it a secret, and did romantic acts behind closed doors. That said, Shannon's life became far better. She graduated High-school not too long later.
Fast forward a few years, a few months before current events, when Shannon was just about to turn twenty, tragedy struck the Balore family when Sugar, and her father got into a car accident and were rushed to the hospital. Sugar had to get her leg cut off, and Shannon didn't hesitate to donate blood for her injured sister. Unfortunately, her father wasn't so lucky, while he didn't die, he was placed into a coma. Which put a tight hold on the Balore family's income. Shannon had to drop out of school for a while to keep the house afloat by using her power as a service, and making fancy clothes for whoever had the money to pay - but fortunately the Balore family got help from the Javuants. During this period, Shannon had noticed Sugar was acting strange. Like she made an imaginary friend, at that old of an age. With some other strange occurrence, Shannon had heavily suspected that her little sister was a meta-human - Which was all but confirmed when Sugar demonstrated her ability.
Shannon turned twenty-one and her father was still in a coma, with her family barely getting by.
Family:
Mother - Avigail Balore (Deceased)
Father - O'Connor Balore
Stepmother - Cassidy Balore
Brother - O'Brien Balore
Brother - Sean Balore
Sister - Blathnat Balore
Relationships
Deborah Javuant | Perfect | Secret lover | "It might seem strange since she is my complete opposite… but yes, Debs is my girlfriend, indeed. We have so many excursions together when no one is looking... but the problem is that my family can't know about our relationship, neither can her family... They are too homophobic... I can only hope I can make them understand this is who I am." |
Blathnat "Sugar" Balore | Warming up to | Younger-Sister | "I had to warm up to her, but I personally think she's cute... I'm just worried about anyone angering her "imaginary friend"...." |
Jago Javuant | Neutral | Debby's Brother | "This kid's on the road to being just another egotistical swine, just the same as everyone else here... I hope Debby knows what she's doing." |
Aisha "Newt" Javuant | Bad | Debby's Sister | "A young pain in the ass if you ask me...." |
Henry Olin | Bad | NEST Dog/Irrelevant | "Sure, he appears to be an obedient pup. Sure everyone likes him.... But I want everyone to take a step back and wonder what he’d be like if he wasn’t leashed..." |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Elemental 6
Power: Clothing Manipulation. Alright, here's the 4-1-1, Shannon has the power to manipulate clothing, or more accurately, the materials they're comprised of. To start off, this gives her to ability to manipulate all fibers/fabrics (wool, silk, cotton, etc), denim, nylons, polyester, rayon, flannel, leather, feather down, linen, and spandex. These materials are what she can control the best. She can freely move it telekinetically with exceptional precision, and control - along with being able to move large quantities if she pleases. The most obvious use is that she can weave pretty much anything she can imagine out of these flexible materials. Clothes, weapons, barriers - you name it. But a major side-ability she has is that she can alter these materials properties (Absorbency, texture, weight/density, color, and structure). Shannon can also control the tensile strength of these materials. Tensile strength is more or less how much stress these materials can withstand before snapping. Thus, Shannon can alter that. She can give a single thread the strength of diamonds, or make any outfit bullet-resistant (Not proof, since they can't absorb the impact of the bullets). Which gives Shannon much, much, more flexibility with her power. There are other materials Shannon can control: Small quantities of metal (At least four forks worth), plastic, rubber, and latex. However, she cannot control these materials that well, and can only really move them. Which makes it easier for her to weave them into other outfits. All in all, this is a very versatile power that has plenty of flexibility and versatility if Shannon puts it to good use. She could fight some of the stronger Meta-humans evenly using her skill, creativity, and intelligence.
Abilities in her potential are...
Hair-Manipulation. Shannon will gain complete control of the hair of herself and others. She can alter, grow out, chance texture, color, etc., shape and manipulate it as if it was appendage, weave the hair into different shapes, etc. Along with the ability to alter the tensile strength of hair. But she cannot tear the hair off people.
Make-up Manipulation. Shannon will be able to telekinetically control various make up products (Eye-shadow, Lipstick, Mascara and so on). Whether it has been applied or not.
Jewelry Manipulation. An extension of her clothing manipulation, she can control jewelry, specially the metal and gemstones. This power is limited to only moving it.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: For starters, Shannon can't pull clothes out her ass, while it's pretty much everywhere, there might not be enough resources for her to work with all the time. Shannon’s ability to manipulate the properties of clothes requires an active concentration to maintain, rather than just flicking her wrist and being done with it. If she loses concentration, the effects will begin to fade. It also takes far more effort to induce and maintain the more extreme changes in property, for example if she makes a single thread have the tensile strength of diamonds, it’ll take a fuckload of effort to keep it that way. In any case, fire and corrosive elements can easily destroy the clothes she's manipulating, regardless of any changes in property. Shannon's power has an effective-range of around twenty-five meters, she has difficulties using her powers outside this range. While she can pretty much make an outfit knife/bullet proof, it won't stop a punch or a really hard blow.
Other:
Name: Shannon Jacqueline Balore
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Silkworm
Gender: Female
Age: 21
Height: 5'6ft
Weight: 147lb
Home District: Westgate
Appearance
Hair Color: Red
Eye Color: Brown
Ethnicity: Irish and Israeli
Physical Appearance: Shannon has the appearance of a Librarian, or a very nerdy girl. Shannon right off the bat doesn't make herself appear like the most receptive person out there. She either gives off an aura of apathy or temper. She doesn't like people, and she tries to make herself look unapproachable so she doesn't have to deal with them. Her movements are slow and controlled, hangs swinging back and forth gently as she moves. She doesn't move a lot if she doesn't have to, and likes to remain still as possible. Her most prominent feature is her red ginger hair, which is wavy, messy, and hangs back length, sometimes resting on her shoulders, or lying on her front. Not kept in a particular style, but she keeps this hair very well maintained. It's an effort, but it pays off in how clean it is. But, it gives everyone who looks at her the idea that she's Irish right off the bat - Which is true to an extent. Shannon is Caucasian, specifically Irish and Israeli. Not that anyone would be able to tell exactly from a look. What supports this is the fact that Shannon is absolutely covered in dark freckles. The most people will see is the freckles on her face (Around her cheeks, nose - yeah, that area), but the rest of her body has plenty of freckles too. Her skin more or less has a freckled texture. As for Shannon's skin, she clearly has the appearance of someone who doesn't get too much sunlight as her skin is pale somewhat. Contributing to the theory that she doesn't do too much physical work is her general build and frame. She has the look of someone who seldom does any real physical activity and never lifted anything heavy in her life. I cannot say that Shannon is a skinny girl. She's a little on the pudgy side, not morbidly obese, but she has body fat packed in her stomach and limbs. Her body shape would have to be apple-shaped overall - few would really notice it due to the dress she wears accentuating her other features and making the best of her body shape. Because of her extra-weight, she has a bit mass in her feminine parts. Her breasts sag a bit however. She has plenty of blemishes, stretch marks, and her face has a few pimples here and there. She hasn't done in life to warrant more than a few scars, so she doesn't have too many scars. There's a small scar on her right cheek from the one time she fell over. Shannon's face is square shaped, and her facial features are rather rounded. It all starts with her rather full cheeks, they are notably large, but they are rather round. Her nose is large, thick, and quite rounded in terms of the nostrils. It sticks out forward somewhat. Shannon has a small mouth, but she has rather big lips that have that feminine thickness to them. She has a medium sized forehead. Her eyes are medium sized, round, and usually have a sharp glare to them. Shannon's ears are medium sized and very round.
Attire: Shannon prefers to dress heavily, and comfortably, with loose clothes that don't stick to her in the slightest. However, her outfit tends to be brightly colored or flashy. She can make her own clothes, and what she makes tends to be on par with designer clothes. Clothes with beautiful patterns, embroidered with pictures, anything that she thinks is fabulous. It gives people the impression that she is a rich girl. She likes to wear jewelry, like bracelets, and rings, usually this is the cheap, dollar-store, brand of jewelry. Then, of course, there's her wide variety of thick-framed glasses. She either wears round, and more squarish glasses.
Personality
Outward & Innate Personality: Shannon a bit of an asshole, yes. People who come across her tend to find out that she's quite the bitter young woman. She's quick to dislike people, and is very quick to let them know that. Her attitude has earned her quite the reputation, and usually earns her more enemies than anything. It isn't something that bothers her that much due to her general disdain for a majority of humankind. Because she's her own brand of anti-social. Though, she does have a soft, sensitive, side that she shows to a select few. Shannon is incredibly cynical, jaded, and pessimistic. She rarely sees the good in things, and always thinks that nobody is nice "just because they are". She's very intelligent and observant. She tends to think things through well, she's good at making educated guesses, going off all the information she has. She's accurate most of the time. Though she has a habit of over thinking when she needs to act. To say the least, she always has her guard up at all times. In conversation, she is very snarky, sassy, and doesn't shy away from giving her opinion at every possible moment.
She tends to have the belief that every person she meets is an idiot, until proven otherwise, that is. She tends come off as condescending, stuck, and like she has a superiority complex. She has plenty of views on current "issues" like LGBT rights, the various wars going on, and the headline stories. However, she is very passionate about her views, and won't hesitate to argue with people who have different views. One thing people learn about Shannon is that, in arguments, she's stubborn as all hell and will rarely see things differently. In truth, Shannon generally likes to appear as if she's a super intelligent. Not hesitating to spot information, say big words, and generally acting smarter than everyone else. She tries hard to look like she's clever, when she really isn't as clever as she thinks. This has caused her a bit of problems when she messes up. She's very protective of the people she cares about. Friends, family, etc, she treats. Shannon has a bit of a temper, a very short one. When people annoy/aggravate her, even in the slightest, she tends to make it known that she doesn't like them. Because, in her eyes, she's not here to make friends with everyone, and if you're arrogant, or an asshole, then you're obviously not worth her time. She'll cut all ties with people she dislikes fast as possible, and never give them a second thought. Sexuality-wise, Shannon is a lesbian, and she's proud, however she keeps it to herself and lets everyone (annoyingly enough) assume that she's straight.
Hobbies/Interests: Fashion, fashion, fashion. It might come as a given because of her power, but Shannon is a fashionista. She seems to always know what the best outfits are, and who has the best tastes. It's just because of her love of high fashion. She also likes books, writing, and poetry - She does indulge herself in some writing in her free times. But her favorite would have to be classical literature. Shannon also likes media - her favorite genre would be crime and mystery, like Law & Order. She also watches some cartoons (Like Disney movies) sometimes. Sometimes meaning when no one is looking. Shannon is a fan of ancient History, and Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and so on, cultures.
Skills/Talents: Skills? Well, as it was stated above (And below), Shannon is rather intelligent because she was pushed towards academics. She knows quite a bit, mostly in the vocabulary fields. A particular skill that she has picked up is that she has the sharp eye of a detective. Both of these put together is why she fancies calling herself a detective. Shannon was also pushed into learning other languages. She picked the one that interested her the most, French. She has participated in quite a few French classes. Before her mother died, Shannon was also taught a bit of Hebrew - Not enough that she could maintain a conversation. Finally, Shannon is good at Chess (and Checkers somewhat). Not that she finds too many people to play with.
Prized Possession: There is no item that Shannon truly treasures.
Quote: "Oh, you're mad? Sorry that you couldn't match me in wits and had to resort to violence."
History/Bio: Shannon was born to a rather good life. Being the bastard daughter of her father O'Connor Balore, and her mother Avigail Durtang, whom quickly got married a few months after she was born. They each had rather modest jobs that granted her family with plenty of money to support them, and eventually indulge them in their hobbies - But they weren't rich. So in a way, Shannon lived in the upper-middle class. Nice house, plenty of nice people to be around, and everything was nice and dandy. Shannon was sent to school aiming to be above average. Her parents nurtured this growth in intelligence after and before school, but they didn't push her too far. It was just an activity they made her do so their daughter was. They tried to make it seem less of work, and more of something fun, and it quickly became something Shannon showed off to other kids - Something that made her better than them. This is how Shannon got rather close to her parents. While getting close to a teacher of hers named Reagan Boyer, whom her parents were friends with. Even after she left kindergarten, she continued to talk to him, and was someone she strives to be, the smartest person she knew.
There isn't much else to say about Shannon's early life other than she continued to grow and mature. However, at the age of six, her powers had developed, or rather, she had discovered them. She was in the middle of a birthday party for the child of one of her father's Co-workers, and she had gotten into a small scuffle with a rather aggressive boy. Who targeted her merely because she had red hair, and tried to pull it out. Shannon freaked out, and every piece of fabric in a good twenty foot radius had been warped and twisted into rather twisted constructs. Shannon and the boy's clothes were destroyed completely, leaving them both nude. Her parents had hauled them out. Not a soul knew what the hell happened, there was enough evidence to connect Shannon to it as everyone else.
However, after that, Shannon discovered that she had an affinity with fabrics. It wasn't anything special, she noticed that fabrics moved to her rhythm. She experimented a bit, and realized that it was all out control over fabrics. She could move them like the traditional elemental type. Shannon came to her parents with this news, and they honestly didn't renounce her or deem her a "freak". They were not oblivious to the world of Meta-humans, and accepted their daughter for what she truly is. But they highly recommended that she uses this power behind closed doors, just out of fear of the people who didn't understand it. So it became a bit of a hobby of hers, along with the rest of her activities, training this ability to it's fullest extent. Learning the ins and outs of this ability, and becoming a master seamstress by default.
She occasionally went to her old teacher Reagan for advice, who was a Meta-human himself (Ceramic Manipulation), and the only other. He taught her a few things, gave her a few pointers. He told Shannon that she could come up with some very creative uses with her power. All she had to do was think outside the box. Reagan acted as a mentor-figure for Shannon's training. Along with teaching her a few moves of his own that could be translated from ceramic to clothing.
Life was going rather smoothly for Shannon. By the time she was nine, she had gotten quite a grasp on her power. She had already learned how to create outfits in a few minutes, and had expanded her control beyond just fabrics. She strived to improve this power even further, and she gotten plenty of opportunities to do so by simple practices such as repairing an outfit, to changing an outfit all together. Just chalking it all up to her being very good with a needle. Personally, she didn't want to participate in sports, and rather focused on her school work and training her power. Though, while in school, she wasn't the type to get along with people that well. She was already quite condescending towards virtually everyone. Shannon had already gotten the firm belief that most people were simply not worth her time, or too much of a mouth breather that they were beyond saving. But her intelligence was something that made other people think she was a simple stepping stone. They made her think she was their friend, only to reveal they only wanted to use her to cheat at tests and ease their way through school. This was simply a catalyst for her belief that everyone wants something, and made her more distant from other people. She made few friends that shared similar beliefs to her.
But her life had changed drastically by the time she was ten. Shannon came home one day, and found her father drinking heavily, crying with his face in his hands. She learned what had happened while she was at school... Reagan had brutally raped and killed Shannon's mother - Apparently having harbored an obsessive desire over Shannon's mother. Using the information he had gotten from Shannon to learn about when and where she'll be, and when no one would be around to. Shannon couldn't possibly understand what happened, and went into a state of shock... Just locking herself into her own room, and never wanting to come out. She was horribly depressed, her entire world had collapsed in on itself. She just couldn't handle it anymore. This was a catalyst for her cynical attitude. One of the people she could trust most used that against her, and killed the one person she was close to. She had gotten the mindset that everyone wants something, no one is truly "nice", and always had something sneaky. It felt like days before Shannon left her room.
Shannon's father went to alcohol in order to cope, he honestly couldn't help his daughter. He got an addiction, but learned of how far he's fallen. He needed to be alone while he suffered. There was only one thing he could do; send her away. He had a friend over in a city called Black Fall, Jacob Javuant, easily his closest friend whom he would do anything for. Black Fall was an unfamiliar city to O'Connor, but he knew of how it was a hot spot for Meta-humans, he knew Shannon would fit in fine. Her father sent Shannon away on a bus to Black Fall, regardless of her protests. Eventually she gave up and accepted it. Mother killed, and sent away when she truly wanted to be close to her father was not a good combination for the rather unstable Shannon.
In Black Fall, Shannon lived in Westgate for what amounted to be a year. The Javuant household lived in a pretty nice house, and they had little kids to stay with (Young Jago and Newt). But Shannon kept herself distant, on many levels. She had no interest in connecting with anyone, or even living. No matter how hard anyone tried. Until she had met her room mate, Deborah Javuant, a girl that was almost the same age as her. Deborah understood her thoughts, knew how she felt, and tried to help her, only to get pushed away by Shannon. Whom automatically assumed she had some ulterior motive. But Deborah was persistent, since she legitimately wanted to help the scorned girl. It worked, Deborah was the only person whom Shannon knew in this alien place, she had no choice but to stick with her. Over time, she had opened herself up to Deborah, and the girl acted as the therapist that Shannon had never gotten. Being the person who's shoulder Shannon cried on. Telling someone how she felt, and releasing all those bottled up emotions felt great. The two young girls connected on a deep level, they became friends fast, and Shannon stopped keeping herself closed off from the world.
That said, life went on as it normally did. Shannon wasn't as pushed into academics as she normally was, but she was still dedicated to school as anyone. After they took a decline, Shannon worked her butt off getting them back up. She figured that it wasn't the end of the world after her mother died, and was making the path to recovery. With the help of Deborah, whom over the months, she was getting very connected to. Hell, Shannon was even developing feelings for the girl - Which she had kept repressed because she was rather unsure of them herself and still had the notion that she have to be hetero-sexual in her head. But no matter how hard she tried to repress them, she knew that they were there, and getting stronger.
But before she had the chance to explore these feelings, Shannon's father came straight to Black Fall, one year later, to get her daughter back. At this point, Shannon was eleven years old. But, she guessed all good things must come to an end. Her opinion of her father had severely degraded, to the point where she downright hated him, not saying a word to him - He had improved too, and respected her enough to give her space. She went back home, and what was easily the most surprising change was the fact that her father had met another woman, Cassidy Belmont, and were expecting a child. They were going to start a family, and her father wanted Shannon there. In all actuality, this made the girl furious, and she rejected her father even more now. Feeling as if he had betrayed her and her feelings. Fortunately, in the meantime, she had kept in touch with Deborah, they had talked to each other over the phone.
However, fate pushed the two together when her father announced that they were moving to Black Fall where they will get married after their first child was born. Shannon was excited to learn that she would be close to her only friend. In a few months, they had moved to a nice spot in West Gate suburbs. (Mostly) Free of crime and the perfect place to raise a new family. A few months later, this new child, named Blathnat Balore - Also known as Sugar. But her very existence made Shannon feel worse about herself. She knew that she was a relic of a life that was long gone, and it would only be a matter of time before she's discarded. Her fears never came true. That said, months after that Cassidy was married into the Balore family.
That said, the next few years were rather unremarkable. Yes, Shannon excelled with her school and her powers. At this point she was seventeen and had (mostly) gotten over the death of her mother. She hadn't gotten close to her sister, nor did she really like it when she got another brother. However, she had warmed up to Sugar after realizing how needlessly heartless and paranoid she was being. The girl was adorable, and she was a great way to practice her power. Making dresses and other outfits for the toddler. However, this was when Shannon and Deborah were closer than ever. They were best friends, but Shannon was on the end of a one sided crush. Shannon just couldn't take it anymore and she just awkwardly confessed her love to her best friend. As bad as Shannon thought it'd be, Deborah returned those feelings happily, having long known about them. However, Shannon nor Deborah's parents would approve of such a relationship. That was the point where they kept it a secret, and did romantic acts behind closed doors. That said, Shannon's life became far better. She graduated High-school not too long later.
Fast forward a few years, a few months before current events, when Shannon was just about to turn twenty, tragedy struck the Balore family when Sugar, and her father got into a car accident and were rushed to the hospital. Sugar had to get her leg cut off, and Shannon didn't hesitate to donate blood for her injured sister. Unfortunately, her father wasn't so lucky, while he didn't die, he was placed into a coma. Which put a tight hold on the Balore family's income. Shannon had to drop out of school for a while to keep the house afloat by using her power as a service, and making fancy clothes for whoever had the money to pay - but fortunately the Balore family got help from the Javuants. During this period, Shannon had noticed Sugar was acting strange. Like she made an imaginary friend, at that old of an age. With some other strange occurrence, Shannon had heavily suspected that her little sister was a meta-human - Which was all but confirmed when Sugar demonstrated her ability.
Shannon turned twenty-one and her father was still in a coma, with her family barely getting by.
Family:
Mother - Avigail Balore (Deceased)
Father - O'Connor Balore
Stepmother - Cassidy Balore
Brother - O'Brien Balore
Brother - Sean Balore
Sister - Blathnat Balore
Relationships
Deborah Javuant | Perfect | Secret lover | "It might seem strange since she is my complete opposite… but yes, Debs is my girlfriend, indeed. We have so many excursions together when no one is looking... but the problem is that my family can't know about our relationship, neither can her family... They are too homophobic... I can only hope I can make them understand this is who I am." |
Blathnat "Sugar" Balore | Warming up to | Younger-Sister | "I had to warm up to her, but I personally think she's cute... I'm just worried about anyone angering her "imaginary friend"...." |
Jago Javuant | Neutral | Debby's Brother | "This kid's on the road to being just another egotistical swine, just the same as everyone else here... I hope Debby knows what she's doing." |
Aisha "Newt" Javuant | Bad | Debby's Sister | "A young pain in the ass if you ask me...." |
Henry Olin | Bad | NEST Dog/Irrelevant | "Sure, he appears to be an obedient pup. Sure everyone likes him.... But I want everyone to take a step back and wonder what he’d be like if he wasn’t leashed..." |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Elemental 6
Power: Clothing Manipulation. Alright, here's the 4-1-1, Shannon has the power to manipulate clothing, or more accurately, the materials they're comprised of. To start off, this gives her to ability to manipulate all fibers/fabrics (wool, silk, cotton, etc), denim, nylons, polyester, rayon, flannel, leather, feather down, linen, and spandex. These materials are what she can control the best. She can freely move it telekinetically with exceptional precision, and control - along with being able to move large quantities if she pleases. The most obvious use is that she can weave pretty much anything she can imagine out of these flexible materials. Clothes, weapons, barriers - you name it. But a major side-ability she has is that she can alter these materials properties (Absorbency, texture, weight/density, color, and structure). Shannon can also control the tensile strength of these materials. Tensile strength is more or less how much stress these materials can withstand before snapping. Thus, Shannon can alter that. She can give a single thread the strength of diamonds, or make any outfit bullet-resistant (Not proof, since they can't absorb the impact of the bullets). Which gives Shannon much, much, more flexibility with her power. There are other materials Shannon can control: Small quantities of metal (At least four forks worth), plastic, rubber, and latex. However, she cannot control these materials that well, and can only really move them. Which makes it easier for her to weave them into other outfits. All in all, this is a very versatile power that has plenty of flexibility and versatility if Shannon puts it to good use. She could fight some of the stronger Meta-humans evenly using her skill, creativity, and intelligence.
Abilities in her potential are...
Hair-Manipulation. Shannon will gain complete control of the hair of herself and others. She can alter, grow out, chance texture, color, etc., shape and manipulate it as if it was appendage, weave the hair into different shapes, etc. Along with the ability to alter the tensile strength of hair. But she cannot tear the hair off people.
Make-up Manipulation. Shannon will be able to telekinetically control various make up products (Eye-shadow, Lipstick, Mascara and so on). Whether it has been applied or not.
Jewelry Manipulation. An extension of her clothing manipulation, she can control jewelry, specially the metal and gemstones. This power is limited to only moving it.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: For starters, Shannon can't pull clothes out her ass, while it's pretty much everywhere, there might not be enough resources for her to work with all the time. Shannon’s ability to manipulate the properties of clothes requires an active concentration to maintain, rather than just flicking her wrist and being done with it. If she loses concentration, the effects will begin to fade. It also takes far more effort to induce and maintain the more extreme changes in property, for example if she makes a single thread have the tensile strength of diamonds, it’ll take a fuckload of effort to keep it that way. In any case, fire and corrosive elements can easily destroy the clothes she's manipulating, regardless of any changes in property. Shannon's power has an effective-range of around twenty-five meters, she has difficulties using her powers outside this range. While she can pretty much make an outfit knife/bullet proof, it won't stop a punch or a really hard blow.
Other:
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Evil Ghost Note I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU
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I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU
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Basic Information
Name: Deborah Lillian Javuant
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Debs, Debby, Gossip Girl, Mystery Hunter, Secret Keeper
Gender: Female
Age: 19 going on 20
Height: 5'10ft
Weight: 152lb
Home District: Westgate
Appearance
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Ethnicity: African-American
Physical Appearance: Deborah is an obviously athletic teen with the look and demeanor of an adventurer. It might be her relaxed movements, and the way she walks. Deborah is almost always seen smiling, or generally with a relaxed demeanor. Some can already tell that she's a more laid back person from the way she acts. Many can immediately tell that she isn't the type of girl who sits around and does nothing. For her body, she's quite muscular, but not ridiculously. She's the kind of person who looks like they play sports, and workouts on the side. Her entire body is somewhat muscular, but her arms and legs have the most muscles. Her legs have plenty of muscle are packed onto them, an indicator she is a devote track runner. Also she never skips leg day. Deborah has a tight stomach, that has some strong abs to them. Deborah's build is thin, she doesn't have too much width to her body, her muscles aren't bulging enough. Because of this, she doesn't have much in the breast/butt department - Her breasts are at least an B-cup. One of the most notable things about Deborah is that she towers above girls her size merely because of the fact that she's five inches above the average female height. Her strong legs make up most of this height. She's not super heavy to boot, but because of her muscles she has a bit more weight to her. She's around the right weight for someone with her body mass. Her height and frame combined almost make her look masculine, if it wasn't for her clearly feminine facial features. Because of her rather active lifestyle, it shows in the amount of scars she has, though some of which belong to childhood blunders. They absolutely plaster her skin, but most of them are rather unnoticeable. Except for the scars on her knees - in fact, her legs have the most scars on her body. Speaking of her skin, she is dark-skinned, a brown color, with her skin having plenty of black freckles. Obviously showing the world her African-American ethnicity. Her hair and facial structure also do plenty to show her ethnicity. Deborah has a squared and heart shaped head, that's a bit wide - but overall her head is rather small. The top of her head is wide, compared to her lower-face which is thin. Deborah has some very small cheeks. She has small, thin, lips that don't have that feminine thickness to them. She has a small triangle-shaped nose that doesn't stick out too much. Her nose-bridge is quite long and thick, and her nostrils are rounded too. Deborah has a strong jawline with a large blocky chin that sticks out from the rest of her face a bit. Deborah's eyes are a nice brown color, and are medium sized that always have a sort of determination, or kindness in them. Deborah's hair is a deep black color, straight, and back length. Most of the time, Deborah keeps it in a ponytail, but there has been times where she's undid it and let it hang.
Attire: Deborah isn't the type of girl who would dress overtly feminine. Not saying she adopts the tomboy style, but she tends to wear more gender-neutral clothing - that are loose and allows her freedom of movement. Other than that, her style can be called casual. She'll wear jeans, hoodies, flannel shirts, and pretty much anything really. She doesn't like wearing dresses and skirts all that much anyway. Deborah wears jewelry of the ear-ring and necklace sort. She doesn't wear a lot, and most of the time she'll be seen wearing earrings above all else. As for shoe-wear, Deborah will either be seen wearing boots, or sneakers. She doesn't like sandals or heels at all.
Personality
Outward & Innate Personality: A naturally curious and adventurous young girl. She's easily one of the most calm and sympathetic people in Black Fall - Owing to her power. She constantly searches for new information, and learn more and more about people - And it's natural that she wishes to share it with friends. She's a real gossip girl, and what's gossip if you don't share it? Though, it sometimes appears that she has an obsession with gossip and information - Which clouds her judgement in decision making. In a hostage situation, she won't make the best choice for everyone, she'll make the choice that nets her the most information. Thus, she's not the best decision maker, and she tends to get herself into trouble. Deborah likes to make plenty of friends, and study group dynamics while she's at it. Most of her drive to learn about people comes from her power. She likes to be the person people come to share their problems and secrets. Despite her gossip-girl reputation, she keeps a secret a secret.
When Deborah speaks, she is quite extroverted, nice and outgoing. She is seemingly a master of any social situation, no social cue, body language, or phrase ever goes over her head. She is quite snarky and playful, sometimes casually dropping info to get a rise out of people (Only people she finds annoying). Deborah is quite intelligent and philosophical. She comes up with sayings with deep meaning, sometimes speaks poetically, and can see the symbolism in things quite well - Which is something she sometimes shares with friends. Deborah is a very open human being, she's willing to share just about anything about herself with friends. Deborah tries to keep herself calm and collected as possible, she knows the risk of losing control, but there are moments where emotion takes over. There are people that Deborah is very distrustful of; mainly the people that her power tells are shady or up to no good. But, Deborah tries to see the good in people regardless, and believes that (mostly) everyone can be redeemed. It's only natural that she tries to help people, and provide a helping hand whenever she can. She is actually emotionally insecure about herself, and tries to appear to be the person she wants to be, instead of the person she is. All out of fear that nobody would care about her if she did otherwise, and simply so she can feel important, like she makes a difference in someone's life. Thus, she fears being exposed as a fraud, or being stripped of all her masks and barriers so everyone knows what she is. Another gripe of Deborah is that she fears losing her way. Using her power for all the wrong reasons. She tries to never use her power for self gain, or abuse it. While she tries to be moral, she sometimes slips and uses it for petty reasons. Deborah is a lesbian, but she is very unsure and insecure about it. She doesn't want to be shunned for her sexuality, so she keeps it a secret the best she can.
Hobbies/Interests: One thing that's always fascinated Deborah is people. Just people. The way they think, what they do, where they fit into the world. She just wants to know more and more about them. Thus, why she's a real gossip girl. The other thing that Deborah really loves is symbolism, and deep emotional moments. She is the kind of the person who likes calm moments alone to allow herself to meditate and think. Another thing Deborah is interested in is music, she likes fast dancing songs, slow songs, and especially songs with deep meaningful lyrics. One of the most beautiful things to her is a slow love song. Which is why she's so invested in the violin, she thinks it's the best instrument for her. Deborah has also invested much time into reading - she likes the deep, thought provoking, books. Thus by that extent, Deborah likes poetry (Though she doesn't write it herself). Deborah likes movies and TV shows about crime and mysteries. One thing that Deborah has heavily invested herself in is Tarot Cards. It's just something that fascinated her about the symbolism. She can perform tarot card readings for other people with surprising accuracy (Which is suspected to be assisted by her power).
Skills/Talents: Deborah is an exceptional track runner, she runs with the speed and vigor of men twice her size. She has also played plenty of soccer when she was younger, but hasn't played it for years and currently has no plans to start up again. Deborah is talented at instruments, she is an excellent violinist.
Prized Possession: A beautiful pink handkerchief from Shannon with hearts and other lovey dovey things weaved into. It's the declaration of their relationship.
Quote(s): "Information is everything, everything is information"
"Everyone here are birds of a feather. From the closest of friends to the worse enemies. We've all congregated here for a shared reason."
History/Bio: Deborah was fortunate enough to be born into a good family. Born of Jacob Javuant, an Army Ranger, and his wife Susie Javuant (Formerly Susie Termellio), a chef. Her early life was simple; she was a happy little girl, whose parents pushed their child to be the best and gave her all the opportunities too. She was pushed to be an athlete by her father, and also pushed towards a good education by her mother - whom also invested their daughter many instruments, but only a few managed to stick with her. That said, due to her Father's military job, Deborah was moved around a lot. Once every three or so years, her father got transferred to another station. She never stayed in one place for too long. From that age, she was already adventurous and wanted to explore, meet people from all over. Deborah made plenty of friends over the years, and seen many places, but she did feel bad that she was leaving them all behind. Which made her somewhat hesitant to really get close to anyone. But she always confided in her parents, who taught her everything she needed to be a good person. With her mother telling her that everyone was a beautiful piece of the bigger picture.
That said, Deborah's early life was good. When she was four, Deborah's mom got pregnant with twins, the two babies that would become Jago and Aisha Javuant. And by the time she was five, they were born. She was ecstatic to get younger siblings, people she can relate too and would never leave her. Deborah was not incorrect, but she learned that they had a little bit of growing to do before they could talk. However, there isn't much more to note about her life - she played soccer soon as she was of air, practiced instruments, and learned - until she was eight year old. The Iraq War had begun, and her father was immediately shipped off to fight in the war. It left the Javuant family rather heartbroken, but he assured them that he would come back in one piece. Deborah was hit the hardest. They had no choice but to wait until his Tour of Duty was over. Fortunately, they didn't have to move for a while after this. However, at this point, her power had developed. Even Deborah didn't even know what it was at first - she woke up one morning and began randomly gathering information about her surroundings. Information simply appeared in her mind's eye. Such as her mother's stressed mood came from trouble at work, and her younger sister's favorite teddy bear's was ripped up by an animal. Understandably, she was rather confused by this, but she continued with life as if it was a noise. Never telling anyone about this strange development.
It continued to grow stronger and more accurate. Which was something Deborah had learned about, and taken advantage of. She learned that there was much more about people than she thought. Quickly understanding cause and effect, and how her powers fills in the blanks. This didn't help her learn any faster in school, but boy did it help when she played soccer! She was able to infer what people were about to do, what state they were in physically, and reacted accordingly. Sure it was cheating, but she couldn't help but use this edge on the field. However, while she was unaware of her abilities true nature for a long time, one doctor's visit months later revealed her true nature as a Meta-human via blood test. This came as a surprise to her family, whom were aware of the world of Meta-humans, but they did not regret Deborah for something she never had control over. So, the first thing they did (at the suggestion of some very intimidating and armed NEST agents) was get Deborah registered under NEST. What they discovered was that her power was Extra-Sensory in nature, allowing her to gain information from what she perceived by making connections. Deborah learned much more about her power this way, and strived to learn about people.
From there on, Deborah kept going to the NEST appointments she was given. There was a bit of adjusting to do with a Meta-human in the family - specifically in regards Deborah's mother. She wasn't comfortable with having a Meta-human who could invade her privacy just by looking at her - what made it worse was that Deborah kept it secret for a while. This caused a split between mother and daughter, which Deborah understood all too well. She tried her best to prove herself to her mother, but she could never get close enough. That was when Deborah gave up - but she imposed a rule on herself to never use her power for wrong, and use it to help people. Since to her, powers were incredible. Dangerous, but they were just as capable of being used to do good as evil. Fortunately, her father was returned to them by the time she was nine - sort of. While riding in a convoy, the vehicle in front of her father's was destroyed by an IED. Almost destroying it completely. The explosion damaged his vehicle too, and sent a knife-like piece of shrapnel clean through his eye. It was called a miracle, since if it went any further, it would have given him brain damage. He was honorably discharged, and sent home. When he returned home, he was welcomed with open arms, but he came back changed. When he learned his daughter was a Meta-human his opinion of his daughter hadn't changed at all, and he still loved her with all his heart. However, he warned her to keep this a secret.
With Deborah's power manifested, her father researched Meta-humans and learned of the Black Fall Effect, and how everyone in the family could potentially manifest as a Meta-human. He decided to give the Javuant family a change of coasts, since he was likely to never see action again. Jacob proposed that the family moved to Black Fall, Pennsylvania, which faced a little bit of hesitancy from his wife, but ultimately she agreed to live there. The entire Javuant family packed up and moved to the Westgate district of Black Fall. Deborah hated that they were moving again, but she felt that her journey was complete, no more moving - her true adventure would begin in Black Fall. She certainly was correct. She adjusted to life in Black Fall well, living in one of the nicer houses in the Westgate community helped. She met new people, excelled in school, and encountered plenty of Meta-humans she had connected to. However, there was a brief change as Deborah learned that she would be getting a new housemate her age. Shannon Balore, her parents didn't say much about her situation other than telling her that the girl has to stay with her.
Naturally, Deborah knew the girl's blight right off the bat. Her dreary demeanor, her apathy for everything, it, and her distant personality. Deborah felt like she should help the female - only to get pushed away. That wasn't the only time Deborah tried, she knew that Shannon would have to open up eventually. She did small favors, while giving Shannon her space. Soon they made small talk, and that evolved to Shannon opening up, and sharing how she truly feels. Which had established them as friends, and they were closer to each other than anyone else. Of course, one thing that Deborah realized about Shannon was that she was gaining an attraction to her. Deborah was... flattered, but she honestly didn't know how to react. All her life, she was taught that girls should like boys, and only boys. The girl was far too young to decide what she really wanted, so Deborah choose to ignore it and act like she knew nothing of it. Though, she couldn't help but feel the same way. Which she tried her best to reject.
Shannon sadly departed by the time Deborah was ten, her time with the Javuant family was over, but they stayed in touch. Once again, there wasn't much to note, except for the fact that Shannon moved to Black Fall a while later, and they became best of friends. They rarely did anything without the other, and they both used their combined talents and power-sets to make the best of Black Fall. While they both made nice with the other's siblings. Over the years their relationship had evolved to the point where they were inseparable... but that was when Shannon open enough to share her romantic feelings for Deborah. Deborah had been repressing her feelings, until then, she told Shannon how she really felt. Before the two agreed to be each other's girlfriends. However, Deborah wasn't comfortable with being open with it, and the fact that she wasn't sure how her parents would react. So they decided to keep it a secret. Go out on excursions together in private. Until they felt ready.
Life continued, Shannon and Deborah's relationship had increased greatly. At nineteen, Deborah had graduated high-school with flying colors, and there was a few local colleges that were aiming to enroll her. Deborah was happy with her life... However, a tragic accident had stricken her girlfriend, and Deborah had no choice but to pitch in any way she could.
Family:
Father - Jacob Javuant
Mother- Susie Javuant
Uncle - Dave Termellio
Aunt - Taya Termellio
Brother - Jago Javuant
Sister - Aisha/Newt Javuant
Relationships
Relationships:
Jago Javuant | Good | Brother | "My younger brother… a headstrong and impulsive something, yes. But I understand why, and that’s what makes him a good soul. When he gets older, I can tell you that he’ll be a strong man. He just needs a little guidance." |
Aisha "Newt" Javuant | Good | Sister | "Jago’s twin. She has quite a few problems because of a few things that could have been done better during her upbringing. She became a wild child, an even worse troublemaker than Jago. I’m hoping that she can change." |
Shannon Balore | Great | Secret lover | "She has problems, problems that stem from years ago. It has made her outwardly bitter towards everyone, but I know she has a nice side…. Which she shows me. I love Shannon with all of my heart, she is one of the best girls here. I wish I could show the world how I feel... but I'm just not ready for it, honestly...." |
Blathnat "Sugar" Balore | Feels Sorry For | Shannon's Younger-Sister | "Cute girl, I really like her. The princess routine is just adorable... But I'm curious about that Entity standing by her..." |
Henry Olin | Respected | NEST Agent/Friend | "Not a bad guy, but I can understand why people wouldn’t like him… him being with NEST and all that. I choose to disregard his status because he’s a nice guy. Personally, I think we could be friends on a personal level, without his badges and guns." |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Cerebral 8
Power: Psychometric-Perception. Deborah has an extremely powerful information gathering ability that naturally makes her a great detective. Extra-sensory in nature. It's rather simple to explain, she gains information about what she perceives (What she sees, hears, smells, touches, and even tastes) about her environment automatically. It goes a little bit more in depth than that, since she does this by making connections between cause-and-effect, filling in the blanks of information. The possibilities are nearly endless. She could learn motives with a glance, learn about objects around her, and so on. But Deborah mostly uses this ability on other humans to learn about them. Technically, she has a lesser form of Empathy, as her whole power allows her to learn emotions through scanning body language. This ability to make connections allows her to do a little bit more than what you're thinking. By scanning enough about a particular subject, she can make larger connections. Such as if she's scanning a random object, she can learn that it's sentimental, and why. Or if she finds a gun on the ground smoking, she can tell how long ago it's been shot and where the bullet went. That's just a few examples in particular, since there's a ton of variables here. Unlike other abilities that are Psychometric in nature, this ability focuses on present time information, or more precisely what she is currently perceiving. Thus it doesn't allow her to learn everything instantly. However, it is fully possible for her to make larger leaps of information past by making enough connections. How much she's trying to learn depends. For years in the past she would need to make several connections and remember all of them. Even the most distant and lost piece of information isn't lost to her. For example, if she finds a footprint on the ground and scans it (Gaining information about the size, weight, and etc, of the person) then find a person/boot that fits the description, she can fill in the blanks. Alternatively, she could solve a murder by scanning the crime scene (extensively) and heading to the murder's home and finding the murder weapon - filling in the blanks of information yet again. Think of it like one big puzzle. She has to gather all the pieces, and her power puts them all together so she can see the bigger picture. Get it?. However, compared to usual Psychometry, she requires much more effort to get the distant information. As a side ability, Deborah is much more observant and aware of her environment, very few details escape her sharp eyes. Which is suspected is due to heightened senses, or a side ability subtly working in the background. It has also given her a boost in the memory department. Not saying that she can recall every moment from the second she got her power, but she can easily remember the things that plagued humanity like "where did I leave the keys?", and "what was the name of that song?". Before you ask, no, this power doesn't give her thoughts, visions or emotions, just straight up information. The other abilities do.
Psychometric-Telepathy. A form of Telepathy that Deborah has been practicing, and has nearly gotten down. It works in conjunction with her first power. She can access the minds of others by touching an object belonging to the person, or making skin-to-skin contact with them. Such as the handkerchief she got from Shannon, she grabs it, and can open a telepathic link with her at any time. It's a very basic, rudimentary form of telepathy, thus she can only read thoughts and send them. Like a form of communication.
Premonitions. A recent ability that Deborah had discovered. It manifested very similar to could say, very similar to precognition. Except different in execution - but somewhat the same in function. Opposed to receiving a vision, she receives her premonitions as emotions, a gut feeling. Such as if something good is heading her way, or... simply something really wrong is going on. It mostly acts as a warning system for when something bad is about to happen. It can be something as subtle as a slight fear when someone's thinking about harming her, or veering on full on panic attack when being stalked by the big bad. It isn't too accurate at the moment, and that I mean it will only give her feelings directly related to what is to come, and that's just about it. However, this ability will get more accurate as time goes on until it borders on future-sense.
Powers in her potential are...
Psychometric-Tracking. Connected to her Psychometric-Perception, Deborah can track people through visions that appear in her mind's eye. It's relatively simple to activate. She must have a target in mind, and she must go to their last location, then a vision of their next actions/location will appear in her mind's eye. If she goes to this location and examine it, she will receive another vision and so on.
Psychic-Imprint. Deborah can imbue objects and people with information (thoughts, emotions and memories) with a simple touch. Anyone who touches these objects will absorb the information - or in the case of emotions, will experience them. Debby can track these imprints if they're nearby.
Psychic-Shield. Deborah can learn how to put up a mental shield around herself that will defend her against Cerebral powers. The kind of powers that would give them information about her. In the case of Telepaths/Empaths, they would simply be unable to read her. In the case of Precogs, she wouldn't appear in any visions, or if someone had a similar ability to her, they wouldn't get information from her.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: Her Psychometric-Perception ability has a few limits and such and such. This one is equally hard to explain. It needs a starting point before it she can get started, no randomly getting the information she wants. She has to physically get the starting point using her senses. Such as, someone has a small inklet of blood dripping down their leg, Deborah has to physically see it before she can make any connections. Or if she smells something weird, she can tell that it's gas. Get the picture right? Incomplete, false, or broken information is her other weakness, as her power won't work correctly otherwise. She also runs the risk of an information overload where her mind gets loaded with so much information that she can barely process it and starts experiencing violent headaches. She could even give herself an aneurysm if she's not careful. Which means when things get hectic, or there’s too much activity going on, she could possibly get overloaded. Her power is also interfered with when dealing with other Information-type Meta-humans. They produce a 'static' that just screws up her power. Deborah's telepathy is extremely weak and basic, and can easily be trumped by other, stronger, telepaths. She also can't freely read people's minds, she needs something connected to them. Such as an item owned by the person. Because of such a power Deborah has a near insatiable drive to get new information, from any and all subjects - Which can cloud her judgement and lead to rash decisions just in the name. It can also drive her to risk herself to get more new pieces of information. Now, it's a given with information-type abilities, but gaining information about people is a double-edged sword. She is quite fascinated by people, but there are things she doesn't want to know. Such as what people really think of her. Make of that as you will.
Other:
Name: Deborah Lillian Javuant
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Debs, Debby, Gossip Girl, Mystery Hunter, Secret Keeper
Gender: Female
Age: 19 going on 20
Height: 5'10ft
Weight: 152lb
Home District: Westgate
Appearance
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Ethnicity: African-American
Physical Appearance: Deborah is an obviously athletic teen with the look and demeanor of an adventurer. It might be her relaxed movements, and the way she walks. Deborah is almost always seen smiling, or generally with a relaxed demeanor. Some can already tell that she's a more laid back person from the way she acts. Many can immediately tell that she isn't the type of girl who sits around and does nothing. For her body, she's quite muscular, but not ridiculously. She's the kind of person who looks like they play sports, and workouts on the side. Her entire body is somewhat muscular, but her arms and legs have the most muscles. Her legs have plenty of muscle are packed onto them, an indicator she is a devote track runner. Also she never skips leg day. Deborah has a tight stomach, that has some strong abs to them. Deborah's build is thin, she doesn't have too much width to her body, her muscles aren't bulging enough. Because of this, she doesn't have much in the breast/butt department - Her breasts are at least an B-cup. One of the most notable things about Deborah is that she towers above girls her size merely because of the fact that she's five inches above the average female height. Her strong legs make up most of this height. She's not super heavy to boot, but because of her muscles she has a bit more weight to her. She's around the right weight for someone with her body mass. Her height and frame combined almost make her look masculine, if it wasn't for her clearly feminine facial features. Because of her rather active lifestyle, it shows in the amount of scars she has, though some of which belong to childhood blunders. They absolutely plaster her skin, but most of them are rather unnoticeable. Except for the scars on her knees - in fact, her legs have the most scars on her body. Speaking of her skin, she is dark-skinned, a brown color, with her skin having plenty of black freckles. Obviously showing the world her African-American ethnicity. Her hair and facial structure also do plenty to show her ethnicity. Deborah has a squared and heart shaped head, that's a bit wide - but overall her head is rather small. The top of her head is wide, compared to her lower-face which is thin. Deborah has some very small cheeks. She has small, thin, lips that don't have that feminine thickness to them. She has a small triangle-shaped nose that doesn't stick out too much. Her nose-bridge is quite long and thick, and her nostrils are rounded too. Deborah has a strong jawline with a large blocky chin that sticks out from the rest of her face a bit. Deborah's eyes are a nice brown color, and are medium sized that always have a sort of determination, or kindness in them. Deborah's hair is a deep black color, straight, and back length. Most of the time, Deborah keeps it in a ponytail, but there has been times where she's undid it and let it hang.
Attire: Deborah isn't the type of girl who would dress overtly feminine. Not saying she adopts the tomboy style, but she tends to wear more gender-neutral clothing - that are loose and allows her freedom of movement. Other than that, her style can be called casual. She'll wear jeans, hoodies, flannel shirts, and pretty much anything really. She doesn't like wearing dresses and skirts all that much anyway. Deborah wears jewelry of the ear-ring and necklace sort. She doesn't wear a lot, and most of the time she'll be seen wearing earrings above all else. As for shoe-wear, Deborah will either be seen wearing boots, or sneakers. She doesn't like sandals or heels at all.
Personality
Outward & Innate Personality: A naturally curious and adventurous young girl. She's easily one of the most calm and sympathetic people in Black Fall - Owing to her power. She constantly searches for new information, and learn more and more about people - And it's natural that she wishes to share it with friends. She's a real gossip girl, and what's gossip if you don't share it? Though, it sometimes appears that she has an obsession with gossip and information - Which clouds her judgement in decision making. In a hostage situation, she won't make the best choice for everyone, she'll make the choice that nets her the most information. Thus, she's not the best decision maker, and she tends to get herself into trouble. Deborah likes to make plenty of friends, and study group dynamics while she's at it. Most of her drive to learn about people comes from her power. She likes to be the person people come to share their problems and secrets. Despite her gossip-girl reputation, she keeps a secret a secret.
When Deborah speaks, she is quite extroverted, nice and outgoing. She is seemingly a master of any social situation, no social cue, body language, or phrase ever goes over her head. She is quite snarky and playful, sometimes casually dropping info to get a rise out of people (Only people she finds annoying). Deborah is quite intelligent and philosophical. She comes up with sayings with deep meaning, sometimes speaks poetically, and can see the symbolism in things quite well - Which is something she sometimes shares with friends. Deborah is a very open human being, she's willing to share just about anything about herself with friends. Deborah tries to keep herself calm and collected as possible, she knows the risk of losing control, but there are moments where emotion takes over. There are people that Deborah is very distrustful of; mainly the people that her power tells are shady or up to no good. But, Deborah tries to see the good in people regardless, and believes that (mostly) everyone can be redeemed. It's only natural that she tries to help people, and provide a helping hand whenever she can. She is actually emotionally insecure about herself, and tries to appear to be the person she wants to be, instead of the person she is. All out of fear that nobody would care about her if she did otherwise, and simply so she can feel important, like she makes a difference in someone's life. Thus, she fears being exposed as a fraud, or being stripped of all her masks and barriers so everyone knows what she is. Another gripe of Deborah is that she fears losing her way. Using her power for all the wrong reasons. She tries to never use her power for self gain, or abuse it. While she tries to be moral, she sometimes slips and uses it for petty reasons. Deborah is a lesbian, but she is very unsure and insecure about it. She doesn't want to be shunned for her sexuality, so she keeps it a secret the best she can.
Hobbies/Interests: One thing that's always fascinated Deborah is people. Just people. The way they think, what they do, where they fit into the world. She just wants to know more and more about them. Thus, why she's a real gossip girl. The other thing that Deborah really loves is symbolism, and deep emotional moments. She is the kind of the person who likes calm moments alone to allow herself to meditate and think. Another thing Deborah is interested in is music, she likes fast dancing songs, slow songs, and especially songs with deep meaningful lyrics. One of the most beautiful things to her is a slow love song. Which is why she's so invested in the violin, she thinks it's the best instrument for her. Deborah has also invested much time into reading - she likes the deep, thought provoking, books. Thus by that extent, Deborah likes poetry (Though she doesn't write it herself). Deborah likes movies and TV shows about crime and mysteries. One thing that Deborah has heavily invested herself in is Tarot Cards. It's just something that fascinated her about the symbolism. She can perform tarot card readings for other people with surprising accuracy (Which is suspected to be assisted by her power).
Skills/Talents: Deborah is an exceptional track runner, she runs with the speed and vigor of men twice her size. She has also played plenty of soccer when she was younger, but hasn't played it for years and currently has no plans to start up again. Deborah is talented at instruments, she is an excellent violinist.
Prized Possession: A beautiful pink handkerchief from Shannon with hearts and other lovey dovey things weaved into. It's the declaration of their relationship.
Quote(s): "Information is everything, everything is information"
"Everyone here are birds of a feather. From the closest of friends to the worse enemies. We've all congregated here for a shared reason."
History/Bio: Deborah was fortunate enough to be born into a good family. Born of Jacob Javuant, an Army Ranger, and his wife Susie Javuant (Formerly Susie Termellio), a chef. Her early life was simple; she was a happy little girl, whose parents pushed their child to be the best and gave her all the opportunities too. She was pushed to be an athlete by her father, and also pushed towards a good education by her mother - whom also invested their daughter many instruments, but only a few managed to stick with her. That said, due to her Father's military job, Deborah was moved around a lot. Once every three or so years, her father got transferred to another station. She never stayed in one place for too long. From that age, she was already adventurous and wanted to explore, meet people from all over. Deborah made plenty of friends over the years, and seen many places, but she did feel bad that she was leaving them all behind. Which made her somewhat hesitant to really get close to anyone. But she always confided in her parents, who taught her everything she needed to be a good person. With her mother telling her that everyone was a beautiful piece of the bigger picture.
That said, Deborah's early life was good. When she was four, Deborah's mom got pregnant with twins, the two babies that would become Jago and Aisha Javuant. And by the time she was five, they were born. She was ecstatic to get younger siblings, people she can relate too and would never leave her. Deborah was not incorrect, but she learned that they had a little bit of growing to do before they could talk. However, there isn't much more to note about her life - she played soccer soon as she was of air, practiced instruments, and learned - until she was eight year old. The Iraq War had begun, and her father was immediately shipped off to fight in the war. It left the Javuant family rather heartbroken, but he assured them that he would come back in one piece. Deborah was hit the hardest. They had no choice but to wait until his Tour of Duty was over. Fortunately, they didn't have to move for a while after this. However, at this point, her power had developed. Even Deborah didn't even know what it was at first - she woke up one morning and began randomly gathering information about her surroundings. Information simply appeared in her mind's eye. Such as her mother's stressed mood came from trouble at work, and her younger sister's favorite teddy bear's was ripped up by an animal. Understandably, she was rather confused by this, but she continued with life as if it was a noise. Never telling anyone about this strange development.
It continued to grow stronger and more accurate. Which was something Deborah had learned about, and taken advantage of. She learned that there was much more about people than she thought. Quickly understanding cause and effect, and how her powers fills in the blanks. This didn't help her learn any faster in school, but boy did it help when she played soccer! She was able to infer what people were about to do, what state they were in physically, and reacted accordingly. Sure it was cheating, but she couldn't help but use this edge on the field. However, while she was unaware of her abilities true nature for a long time, one doctor's visit months later revealed her true nature as a Meta-human via blood test. This came as a surprise to her family, whom were aware of the world of Meta-humans, but they did not regret Deborah for something she never had control over. So, the first thing they did (at the suggestion of some very intimidating and armed NEST agents) was get Deborah registered under NEST. What they discovered was that her power was Extra-Sensory in nature, allowing her to gain information from what she perceived by making connections. Deborah learned much more about her power this way, and strived to learn about people.
From there on, Deborah kept going to the NEST appointments she was given. There was a bit of adjusting to do with a Meta-human in the family - specifically in regards Deborah's mother. She wasn't comfortable with having a Meta-human who could invade her privacy just by looking at her - what made it worse was that Deborah kept it secret for a while. This caused a split between mother and daughter, which Deborah understood all too well. She tried her best to prove herself to her mother, but she could never get close enough. That was when Deborah gave up - but she imposed a rule on herself to never use her power for wrong, and use it to help people. Since to her, powers were incredible. Dangerous, but they were just as capable of being used to do good as evil. Fortunately, her father was returned to them by the time she was nine - sort of. While riding in a convoy, the vehicle in front of her father's was destroyed by an IED. Almost destroying it completely. The explosion damaged his vehicle too, and sent a knife-like piece of shrapnel clean through his eye. It was called a miracle, since if it went any further, it would have given him brain damage. He was honorably discharged, and sent home. When he returned home, he was welcomed with open arms, but he came back changed. When he learned his daughter was a Meta-human his opinion of his daughter hadn't changed at all, and he still loved her with all his heart. However, he warned her to keep this a secret.
With Deborah's power manifested, her father researched Meta-humans and learned of the Black Fall Effect, and how everyone in the family could potentially manifest as a Meta-human. He decided to give the Javuant family a change of coasts, since he was likely to never see action again. Jacob proposed that the family moved to Black Fall, Pennsylvania, which faced a little bit of hesitancy from his wife, but ultimately she agreed to live there. The entire Javuant family packed up and moved to the Westgate district of Black Fall. Deborah hated that they were moving again, but she felt that her journey was complete, no more moving - her true adventure would begin in Black Fall. She certainly was correct. She adjusted to life in Black Fall well, living in one of the nicer houses in the Westgate community helped. She met new people, excelled in school, and encountered plenty of Meta-humans she had connected to. However, there was a brief change as Deborah learned that she would be getting a new housemate her age. Shannon Balore, her parents didn't say much about her situation other than telling her that the girl has to stay with her.
Naturally, Deborah knew the girl's blight right off the bat. Her dreary demeanor, her apathy for everything, it, and her distant personality. Deborah felt like she should help the female - only to get pushed away. That wasn't the only time Deborah tried, she knew that Shannon would have to open up eventually. She did small favors, while giving Shannon her space. Soon they made small talk, and that evolved to Shannon opening up, and sharing how she truly feels. Which had established them as friends, and they were closer to each other than anyone else. Of course, one thing that Deborah realized about Shannon was that she was gaining an attraction to her. Deborah was... flattered, but she honestly didn't know how to react. All her life, she was taught that girls should like boys, and only boys. The girl was far too young to decide what she really wanted, so Deborah choose to ignore it and act like she knew nothing of it. Though, she couldn't help but feel the same way. Which she tried her best to reject.
Shannon sadly departed by the time Deborah was ten, her time with the Javuant family was over, but they stayed in touch. Once again, there wasn't much to note, except for the fact that Shannon moved to Black Fall a while later, and they became best of friends. They rarely did anything without the other, and they both used their combined talents and power-sets to make the best of Black Fall. While they both made nice with the other's siblings. Over the years their relationship had evolved to the point where they were inseparable... but that was when Shannon open enough to share her romantic feelings for Deborah. Deborah had been repressing her feelings, until then, she told Shannon how she really felt. Before the two agreed to be each other's girlfriends. However, Deborah wasn't comfortable with being open with it, and the fact that she wasn't sure how her parents would react. So they decided to keep it a secret. Go out on excursions together in private. Until they felt ready.
Life continued, Shannon and Deborah's relationship had increased greatly. At nineteen, Deborah had graduated high-school with flying colors, and there was a few local colleges that were aiming to enroll her. Deborah was happy with her life... However, a tragic accident had stricken her girlfriend, and Deborah had no choice but to pitch in any way she could.
Family:
Father - Jacob Javuant
Mother- Susie Javuant
Uncle - Dave Termellio
Aunt - Taya Termellio
Brother - Jago Javuant
Sister - Aisha/Newt Javuant
Relationships
Relationships:
Jago Javuant | Good | Brother | "My younger brother… a headstrong and impulsive something, yes. But I understand why, and that’s what makes him a good soul. When he gets older, I can tell you that he’ll be a strong man. He just needs a little guidance." |
Aisha "Newt" Javuant | Good | Sister | "Jago’s twin. She has quite a few problems because of a few things that could have been done better during her upbringing. She became a wild child, an even worse troublemaker than Jago. I’m hoping that she can change." |
Shannon Balore | Great | Secret lover | "She has problems, problems that stem from years ago. It has made her outwardly bitter towards everyone, but I know she has a nice side…. Which she shows me. I love Shannon with all of my heart, she is one of the best girls here. I wish I could show the world how I feel... but I'm just not ready for it, honestly...." |
Blathnat "Sugar" Balore | Feels Sorry For | Shannon's Younger-Sister | "Cute girl, I really like her. The princess routine is just adorable... But I'm curious about that Entity standing by her..." |
Henry Olin | Respected | NEST Agent/Friend | "Not a bad guy, but I can understand why people wouldn’t like him… him being with NEST and all that. I choose to disregard his status because he’s a nice guy. Personally, I think we could be friends on a personal level, without his badges and guns." |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Cerebral 8
Power: Psychometric-Perception. Deborah has an extremely powerful information gathering ability that naturally makes her a great detective. Extra-sensory in nature. It's rather simple to explain, she gains information about what she perceives (What she sees, hears, smells, touches, and even tastes) about her environment automatically. It goes a little bit more in depth than that, since she does this by making connections between cause-and-effect, filling in the blanks of information. The possibilities are nearly endless. She could learn motives with a glance, learn about objects around her, and so on. But Deborah mostly uses this ability on other humans to learn about them. Technically, she has a lesser form of Empathy, as her whole power allows her to learn emotions through scanning body language. This ability to make connections allows her to do a little bit more than what you're thinking. By scanning enough about a particular subject, she can make larger connections. Such as if she's scanning a random object, she can learn that it's sentimental, and why. Or if she finds a gun on the ground smoking, she can tell how long ago it's been shot and where the bullet went. That's just a few examples in particular, since there's a ton of variables here. Unlike other abilities that are Psychometric in nature, this ability focuses on present time information, or more precisely what she is currently perceiving. Thus it doesn't allow her to learn everything instantly. However, it is fully possible for her to make larger leaps of information past by making enough connections. How much she's trying to learn depends. For years in the past she would need to make several connections and remember all of them. Even the most distant and lost piece of information isn't lost to her. For example, if she finds a footprint on the ground and scans it (Gaining information about the size, weight, and etc, of the person) then find a person/boot that fits the description, she can fill in the blanks. Alternatively, she could solve a murder by scanning the crime scene (extensively) and heading to the murder's home and finding the murder weapon - filling in the blanks of information yet again. Think of it like one big puzzle. She has to gather all the pieces, and her power puts them all together so she can see the bigger picture. Get it?. However, compared to usual Psychometry, she requires much more effort to get the distant information. As a side ability, Deborah is much more observant and aware of her environment, very few details escape her sharp eyes. Which is suspected is due to heightened senses, or a side ability subtly working in the background. It has also given her a boost in the memory department. Not saying that she can recall every moment from the second she got her power, but she can easily remember the things that plagued humanity like "where did I leave the keys?", and "what was the name of that song?". Before you ask, no, this power doesn't give her thoughts, visions or emotions, just straight up information. The other abilities do.
Psychometric-Telepathy. A form of Telepathy that Deborah has been practicing, and has nearly gotten down. It works in conjunction with her first power. She can access the minds of others by touching an object belonging to the person, or making skin-to-skin contact with them. Such as the handkerchief she got from Shannon, she grabs it, and can open a telepathic link with her at any time. It's a very basic, rudimentary form of telepathy, thus she can only read thoughts and send them. Like a form of communication.
Premonitions. A recent ability that Deborah had discovered. It manifested very similar to could say, very similar to precognition. Except different in execution - but somewhat the same in function. Opposed to receiving a vision, she receives her premonitions as emotions, a gut feeling. Such as if something good is heading her way, or... simply something really wrong is going on. It mostly acts as a warning system for when something bad is about to happen. It can be something as subtle as a slight fear when someone's thinking about harming her, or veering on full on panic attack when being stalked by the big bad. It isn't too accurate at the moment, and that I mean it will only give her feelings directly related to what is to come, and that's just about it. However, this ability will get more accurate as time goes on until it borders on future-sense.
Powers in her potential are...
Psychometric-Tracking. Connected to her Psychometric-Perception, Deborah can track people through visions that appear in her mind's eye. It's relatively simple to activate. She must have a target in mind, and she must go to their last location, then a vision of their next actions/location will appear in her mind's eye. If she goes to this location and examine it, she will receive another vision and so on.
Psychic-Imprint. Deborah can imbue objects and people with information (thoughts, emotions and memories) with a simple touch. Anyone who touches these objects will absorb the information - or in the case of emotions, will experience them. Debby can track these imprints if they're nearby.
Psychic-Shield. Deborah can learn how to put up a mental shield around herself that will defend her against Cerebral powers. The kind of powers that would give them information about her. In the case of Telepaths/Empaths, they would simply be unable to read her. In the case of Precogs, she wouldn't appear in any visions, or if someone had a similar ability to her, they wouldn't get information from her.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: Her Psychometric-Perception ability has a few limits and such and such. This one is equally hard to explain. It needs a starting point before it she can get started, no randomly getting the information she wants. She has to physically get the starting point using her senses. Such as, someone has a small inklet of blood dripping down their leg, Deborah has to physically see it before she can make any connections. Or if she smells something weird, she can tell that it's gas. Get the picture right? Incomplete, false, or broken information is her other weakness, as her power won't work correctly otherwise. She also runs the risk of an information overload where her mind gets loaded with so much information that she can barely process it and starts experiencing violent headaches. She could even give herself an aneurysm if she's not careful. Which means when things get hectic, or there’s too much activity going on, she could possibly get overloaded. Her power is also interfered with when dealing with other Information-type Meta-humans. They produce a 'static' that just screws up her power. Deborah's telepathy is extremely weak and basic, and can easily be trumped by other, stronger, telepaths. She also can't freely read people's minds, she needs something connected to them. Such as an item owned by the person. Because of such a power Deborah has a near insatiable drive to get new information, from any and all subjects - Which can cloud her judgement and lead to rash decisions just in the name. It can also drive her to risk herself to get more new pieces of information. Now, it's a given with information-type abilities, but gaining information about people is a double-edged sword. She is quite fascinated by people, but there are things she doesn't want to know. Such as what people really think of her. Make of that as you will.
Other:
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Name: Bláthnat Cassidy Balore
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Sugar, Little Flower
Gender: Female
Age: 8
Height: 3'11ft
Weight: 72
Home District: Westgate
Appearance
Hair Color: Red
Eye Color: Blue
Ethnicity: Irish
Physical Appearance: A fairly young and incredibly cute child. She is short, very thin, and petite. She has a huge pair of thick framed glasses on, a pair that makes her look nerdy. But, easily her most defining feature is her massive head of wavy, wild, red hair. That goes down past her shoulders and flows as she moves. Sugar's other most defining feature is her face full of freckles. It's pretty obvious that she's a ginger. She moves very slowly most of the time, and she sometimes limps. Other times she's full of energy and excited. Moving fast as her little leg can take her. For her weight and height, she's average, just the healthy mix for a girl her age and size. She has a bit of body-fat on her, but it's barely noticeable. Her skin is a fair color, but slightly pale because she doesn't get too much sunlight. However, her skin has plenty of scars from a few notable accidents... But, before I get into those, I should describe yet another defining trait about Sugar. Her right leg is obviously prosthetic, since she lost it in an accident not too long ago. Which is why she doesn't exactly walk right. Everything under the knee has been amputated. This prosthetic is fairly standard in appearance, but Sugar has painted it bright red. She doesn't like talking about it at all. The leg itself is now a stump, there's a clear scar where it's been amputated, but generally the wound has healed. As for other scars/wounds, Sugar also has a few scars on the same leg and upwards towards her lower body. Slashing scars like something had cut her (Glass specifically). Other than that young Blathnat has very rounded and youthful facial features. The true face of a little girl. To get started, she has a rectangle-shaped face. She has large, round, full cheeks that smoothly flow into the rest of her jaw line without looking out of place. She has a tiny chin is so small and unnoticeable, that it disappears into her face. Mixed with her small, round, button nose, it's what makes her face look all cutesy. Sugar has braces, whenever she smiles she flashes these braces. Sugar has very large and rounded ears, usually hidden behind her curly mane. She has a rather large forehead, which butt of jokes at time.
Attire: Being Shannon's little sister has it's benefits! Sugar's style is generally whatever she's in the mood for, which Shannon happily indulges. She's, more often than naught, seen wearing a dress of some sort, usually red. Red being her favorite color, it's only appropriate. Other times she's seen dressed up like a punk, a princess, a biker, a businesswoman and so on. Long as it's nothing too fantastical, Shannon will change her attire appropriately. Oh yeah, Sugar wears a pair of black thick framed glasses. Finally, Sugar is often seen with a large red binder pressed up against her chest. Inside the binder is a collection of various drawings Sugar has made, all neatly organized. She keeps this possession very close to her.
Personality
Outward & Innate Personality: A certainly... off girl. She acts very similar to a young child. Going around playing and having fun. People the idea an overactive imagination, one that always lives in a dream world. She would make a bitchin' writer if she got some practice. That said, she always acts like she's a princess going on a fantastic adventure as the hero. Calling everyone she meets something out of a fairy tail. For example, she would call a shady woman a evil witch, or a strong and heroic male a knight. It's all depending on what who she meets. That said, Sugar is innocent as they get, idealistic as a child should be too. She is immeasurably kind, and because she believes herself to be a hero, she tends to help people whenever she can. Which tends to get her in trouble. She's young and incredibly playful, always seeking to find a friend to play with. Though, she tends to shy away from people older than her. Sugar is a coward, and is very quick to be frightened, and more importantly, fears her dream world getting shattered. She avoids everything that would cause her world to be shattered, such as mean people, evils, and mature situations - Her imaginary friend helps. She retreats into this fun fantasy world to escape the real world stresses. The car accident she's been in has deeply affected her, and she'd rather pretend it never happened. She tries her hardest, but the whole experience has kept her up at night. Even thinking about it would cause her to freeze up. The stress shows in her demeanor when she's not acting like a hero. Sugar really has a fear of automobiles, and despises the look of them. There's no way she's ever getting in another car. Sugar also really hates being called by her birth-name, Blathnat.
Hobbies/Interests: As you may have guessed it, Sugar really likes fairy tails, and fantasy in general. She absolutely loves Disney movies. Someone mentions one and she's going to explode in a ball of energy all over them. Sugar also likes playing, exploring, discovering things, and day dreaming/imagining.
Skills/Talents: I couldn't come up with too much in terms of little girl skills, but here I go. Sugar, because of her active-imagination, has been looking into drawing. She's been drawing for quite awhile now, and she's been told that she has a little bit of talent. She's taken a few classes and has gotten beyond scribbles. Sugar has also been taught to play chess and checkers.
Prized Possession: Sugar's notebook full of stories and drawing.
Quote(s): "Oh! Do you want to meet Sir Reginald? Um... He's really shy..."
History/Bio: Sugar was the first child to be born into the Balore family after O'Connor, father of the Balore family remarried (After the tragic death of his first wife). Sugar was the first bundle of joy to come from his new wife, Cassidy. She was born after the family had moved from New York to Black Fall, living in the Westgate district. That said, Sugar had a pretty good childhood, she was young, she played around with friends, and lived life the best way she could. Since she was young, fairy tales and fantasy stories deeply fascinated her. With her parents supporting this, and it eventually escalated to a worrying level. She was seemingly obsessed with fairy tales, which leaked into everything that she was involved with. Her schoolwork, her home life, and play life. Her parents simply figured that she'd grow out of it and left her to her own devices. When Sugar was five, she was given a young brother, O'Brien. She was initially jealous of the child for taking attention away from her, but she quickly warmed up the boy. However, the person she wanted to connect to the most was her older sister Shannon. Who seemed to be aloof, indifferent to her very existence. Sugar tried her very best to connect to her sister, not succeeding for ages, until Shannon was forced to pay attention to her. After that, Shannon and Sugar became closer, much like sisters should be. Shannon made fancy clothes for Sugar, and Sugar returned the favor in affection. Other than that, there was a slow natural progression of events. Sugar went to school, her obsession with fairy tales never faded.
A few months before current times (Which was by the time she was seven), she was at the height of her life. Everything just seemed so perfect. Her younger brother was now two, and already walking and talking (Fragments). However, a few months before her eighth birthday, she learned that she will be getting another brother, Sean. Sugar was ecstatic that she was going to get a baby brother! Since she loved kids. However, her life took a drastic change after one car ride to the Toys "R" Us with her father one night. At an intersection, a drunk man had run a red light just as Sugar's car was crossing it. The drunk man crashed into the side of the car and sent it sprawling across the intersection into another truck. Sugar got her leg crushed between the door and another car. Her father was knocked out hard enough that he fell unconscious, probably with permanent damage. So Sugar was left alone in a mangled car to bleed to death as she screamed for help. Eventually, she too fell unconscious from severe blood loss and shock. It almost felt like she was dying. However a transparent guardian had appeared, and yanked Sugar out of the mangled vehicle. She was left lying by the side of the car, applying pressure to her wounds, by the time an ambulance came. At that point, the transparent man disappeared.
Sugar woke up in the hospital the next morning, surrounded by her family. Thankfully Shannon and her mother had given her an emergency blood donation. The young girl would be in a stable condition, but she couldn't feel her leg... She looked down and learned that, in her unconscious state, her leg was amputated because it was too damaged to possibly repair. This made the young girl hysterical. What didn't help was the fact that her father was sent into a coma from severe injuries and they wouldn't know when he'd wake up. She was given a prosthetic leg and put into physical therapy soon as possible. However, something strange had appeared. What appeared to be a ghost was following her around. At this point, Sugar was frightened by the apparition, but only she could see him, he was invisible to everyone else. They chalked it off to being stressed out from the incident and issued her some psychological therapy as well. Whenever she freaked out, he would disappear - choosing only to reappear when she was alone. When they were alone, no matter how loud she screamed, who she called for help, the phantom refused to leave.
Sugar felt like she was hopeless... When the ghost contacted her, for the first time, telling her that he was truly no threat and he was her friend. The entity that saved her from the car accident. Sugar was hesitant to believe the story at first, affixing the Entity to being an evil ghost. But, as they spent time together, playing around and talking, Sugar warmed up to him. In a few weeks, they were calling each other friends. She named it Sir Reginald, and called him a mighty knight. He helped her by getting her objects she was unable to, and sometimes saving her from further injury (Catching her that one time she nearly fell down the stairs). They had learned to rely on each other, and Sugar knew that Reginald was her knight. Everyone believed that she was just too imaginative except for her older sister, Shannon, who had enough experience in the Meta-human department to suspect that the traumatic experience had awakened a new power.
Months later, Sugar was officially released from the hospital, and she had taken some time to get used to everything. Having one leg was hard on her, but she made a new friend, so it made it all better. No one believed Sugar when she said she made a new friend, just called Reginald an imaginary friend. It wasn't until Sugar asked Reginald to get an apple was when they knew that she was a Meta-human - except, they pegged her as a telekinetic opposed to having an ability of her own. Months later, and they still do not know of the true aspects of this ability. Except for Shannon who was savvy enough to believe what Sugar said.
Family:
Mother - Cassidy Balore
Father - O'Connor Balore
Brother - O'Brien Balore
Brother - Sean Balore
Half Sister - Shannon Balore
Relationships
Shannon Balore | Great | Big Sister | "She's a wizard! She can make clothes just like the Fairy Godmother!" |
Deborah Javuant | Good | Princess | "Big sister's friend. She's really smart and always knows stuff I didn't know about. I think she's a Wizard too. Reginald tells me that I can trust her." |
Aisha "Newt" Javuant | Neutral | Houdini | "Ooooooh, she can disappear! That's so cool! Reginald tells me where she is, but it's still cool!" |
Jago Javuant | Neutral | Dumb Knight | "In my stories, he'd be the guy who goes on the adventures with the hero, and is the dumb tough guy." |
Henry Olin | Feared | Dragon | "He’s.... Scary. He looks like the evil dragons in my stories… I hate it when he comes around. He starts talking about strange things, and telling me I’m things I’m not." |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Cerebral 8
Power: Imaginary Friend. Sugar has an invisible psychic entity following her and fulfilling her every wish. This entity is what she calls "Sir Reginald" and has the appearance of a transparent and featureless man, with only his outline visible. Reginald is far taller than Sugar is, standing tall at least ten feet - but he can shrink. However, while "inactive", Reginald is normally invisible (And untouchable to everyone but Sugar) to all but those with Cerebral powers can vaguely see him. He can, however, make himself visible at will, or when he interacts with someone, uses his telekinesis - or otherwise becomes "active". It is believed that Reginald is nothing more than a localized telekinetic field with Sugar subconsciously controlling him. Reginald has some degree of sentience, he displays intelligence, but he (seemingly) never communicates with anyone but Sugar. He carries out any of Sugar's wishes with near-human levels of intelligence, but when inactive, he merely hovers around Sugar. As I stated before, Reginald does whatever Sugar asks him to do, using all of his abilities combined. He can separate from her and for example, float across the room and grab something Sugar wants. During the aforementioned example, he'll be invisible and it will look like the object floated towards her. Which gives everyone the idea that her power is telekinetic in nature (Which is correct in it's own way) since Reginald never reveals himself. Reginald is fully benevolent and he only has Sugar's best interests in mind.
Now, what are the special things Reginald do? Reginald has a powerful form of telekinesis. He can move even the heaviest of all objects with sheer willpower. This is also an extension of his telekinetic abilities, but Reginald is immeasurably strong. He can shatter stone with a single punch, and lift up cars - when he lifts objects up, they don't break under their own weight since he holds it together by wrapping a telekinetic field of his own around it. Reginald also has minor/weak telepathic abilities, which is how he communicates with Sugar. He can also read the thoughts of those around him, and transmit it to Sugar if he pleases. Usually he tells her about the people in the room, and who to watch out for. Reginald can send messages to other people, but he rarely does so unless he wants to send a message. Another perk of these Telepathic abilities is that Sir Reginald can guard her from other Cerebral-types of the sort. Mainly the type that can enter her mind. At will, Reginald can disappear into Sugar's mind and go dormant, until he's ready to come back - matter of fact, he has three states. Active (When visible), Inactive (When invisible) and dormant (Recovering in Sugar's mind). This ability is something that is new to her - in fact, she isn't even sure she's a meta herself. But, as she and her familiar synchronize, they will form a deeper bond, and she will gain some of his abilities. Specifically a weaker form of telekinesis and telepathy.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: While Reginald is a powerful entity of his own, he has a few drawbacks. Know all that fancy stuff like the telekinesis and the strength? It's mentally linked to Sugar, and they haven't quite synchronized yet. Reginald using his telekinesis causes Sugar strain and injury. Simply moving an object telekinetically will give her a brief headache, and say tossing a bus into the upper stratosphere would cause her some immense damage, and might kill her via ashing. Which is exactly why he sticks to the simple stuff, and remains dormant to conserve energy, and keep Sugar protected. However, as Sugar grows as a person, she can lessen this and go in sync with Sir Reginald. Eventually he'll be able to use his telekinesis and strength without harming Sugar. Reginald can be touched while visible, and, by that extent, damaged. While he's sturdier than a human being, he can be damaged, and can be destroyed. Once destroyed, he will retreat back into Sugar's brain until he's fully repaired. He cannot regenerate on his own either, he'll have to return to Sugar's mind to heal even slight damage. He cannot fight other Cerebral types as effectively as anyone else. Reginald can't use all of his abilities at once, he can't keep Sugar in her fantasy land while stopping a bus from flying at them. He has to do one thing at a time. His telekinesis only applies to solid/physical objects. In regards to human beings, there’s a few restrictions on his telekinesis. They don’t function as well on people as they do. He can’t telekinetically rip someone apart for example, but he can still move them around. But, the only thing is that people can resist his telekinetic influence on them.
Reginald has Sugar's best interests in mind, and thus, he thinks about her before himself. Instead of counterattacking, he will be more focused on protecting Sugar, even if it'll leave himself open. Say if she got into a fight with two guys (Who would try to beat up a little girl? You fucking heartless bastard); and while Reginald is throwing something at Mook A, Mook B throws a brick at Sugar; he'll drop everything to defend her, leaving himself open to be taken out by Mook A. It can be taken advantage of by a savvy opponent. Or he might just forgo the fight altogether and just get Sugar out of there. Reginald only fights if there's no choice, and only to defend Sugar, even then, he'd rather send a message than kill someone. Whenever Sugar falls asleep/unconscious, Reginald will go dormant until she wakes up. Another major weakness is that, while Sugar can give him orders, she doesn't have complete control over him. He does everything above, and in order to use that power she has to ask him first. Otherwise, he'll remain dormant and hover over Sugar. Say if a friend has been attacked by a monster, she'll have to ask him - of course she'll likely be too terrified to ask him, but yeah. However, he will act to protect Sugar, even if it goes against her wishes.
Other: Sugar isn't fully aware of her ability - she still believes that she is a normal girl instead of a meta-human in command of a powerful entity. By that extent, NEST does not know Sir Reginald even exists - they have deemed it a figment of her overactive imagination. They believe that she is a low-level telekinetic and telepath and graded her an incorrect 3 rather an eight.
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Evil Ghost Note I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU
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I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU
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Basic Information
Name: Jago Andrew Javuant
Nickname/Alias/Etc: JJ, The Ultimate Shield
Gender: Male
Age: 14
Height: 5'7
Weight: 137
Home District: Westgate
Appearance
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Ethnicity: African-American
Physical Appearance: A very youthful and proud teen. Jago has the looks of an outgoing person, the kind of kid that spends plenty of time outside and doing things rather than lazing around the house. Hell, someone could say that he has the looks of an adventurer. But he tends to have the young relaxed teen vibe most of the time. Moving around and walking with confidence and a cocky swagger. He's rather tall for his age, standing shoulders above other teens at a solid 5'7. His build is very thin and waifish, he's skinny, but he has a bit of muscles. Not the "I lift" kind of muscles, but more of the "I run, and do gymnastics" muscles. His arms and legs are particularly muscular - another thing I should note about them is that they're long, they make up a bit of his height. However, the boy has been hitting the gym quite often in hopes of getting ripped. They're hard to notice unless he takes off his clothes and shows some skin. Speaking of skin; Jago is obviously African-American. He has a chocolate brown skin color, tanned from spending plenty of time in the sun. His face is coated with some dark freckles. Free from blemishes and acne - but he has plenty of scars coating his skin from rough play. His appearance clearly implies he's been during various activities, but clearly rough-housing. His crooked nose was broken in fights fairly frequently and just never healed right. Along with a few scars here and there - mostly around his knees from tripping - he's clearly been in some stuff. Going back to Jago's African-American heritage, his facial features are structured very much like African-Americans. His skull shape, thick lips, and hair-texture give this away. Jago's facial features are rounded and smooth - blending seamlessly with each other - along with a rectangle shaped head. His chin is small, and square, blending into his sharp jawline very well. His nose is medium sized, with two large nostrils and a thick nose bridge, and like it's been stated before, is quite crooked. He has large lips, along with a wide mouth. His ears are small, yet quite round. Jago's eyes are small, usually giving off a lazy, bored look, or a fierce, determined, confident, glare. One thing Jago has been notable for is his thick, straight, dark-black hair color. It's a usually wild hair-style, since he keeps them all in shoulder-length, thick, dreadlocks. They move and flow just as he does.
Attire: Jago's attire, and style, varies depending on his mood. But his most common style is either a hip-hop based outfit, an athletic outfit, casual attire, or bland outfits that allow freedom of movement. That said, there's few kinds of clothes Jago won't wear.
Personality
Outward & Innate Personality: A young, impetuous, little shit. A lot of words can be used to describe Jago. Arrogant, cocky, proud, confrontational... are just among some of them. He acts loudly and proud, and it's clear to the people he meets that he is some kind of badass. Talking like everyone is below him, or simply worthless - talking himself up to be some champion. Merely because he thinks that most people are annoying and simply not worth his time. Usually he tends to act like the cool kid, the one that barely cares and does whatever he pleases. Jago casually throws insults, snarky remarks at people and taunts - bordering on bullying. Jago is the kind of kid that would spit in the face of authority and act wildly out of control. This is apart of his young, impulsive, attitude. He breaks the rules casually, and treat authority figures like they're nothing. Stealing, breaking things, and fighting people aren't below him. However, he will play along with their rules until they get into his way. Jago is very easy to annoy, and temperamental. People who annoy him will get the brunt of his insults. Sometimes he'll single out these people and prank them. Doing whatever he can to demean them for his own amusement. Jago is very quick to anger, and when he gets angry, he acts rashly, and certainly isn't afraid to escalate things from throwing insults to throwing punches. However, he tends to act aggressively towards people that are his own level physically. While he isn't afraid to step up to someone who's larger and older than him, he tends to rely on peer pressure to carry him through those situations. And let whatever happens, happen - even if he loses. It's easy to say that he isn't the brightest kid. Acting on impulse (or with his dick) tends to get him in quite a few sticky situations. Very rarely does he learn unless the lesson is pounded into his skull through brute force (Specifically a good asskicking). However, he tends to act far more cold and closed off when around strangers, or when he's not in the mood to be bothered.
Innately, Jago is afraid of being weak, being useless, being scared. Which is why he acts all proud, aggressive, and rebellious - he wants the world to know that he isn't weak or a coward and will do anything to appear otherwise. He's convinced that strength, pride, and status is the only thing that matters, and the only thing he needs. While longing for something more. Jago is desperate to become a strong and capable badass that doesn't take shit from anyone. When in reality, he's just a kid acting like one - and he knows this. He's especially afraid of failing in the moments he really needs to succeed, or just not being good enough. He believes that he's alone in the world, and that no one can possibly help him - Which is why he has to get strong enough to help himself. Jago absolutely hates it when he has to rely on other people, or someone else has to come and save him. Morality-wise, while it may not seem this way, but underneath it all Jago has a strong sense of morality and justice. He simply won't stand for injustice befalling on the people he cares about. That said, he'll help a friend that's being mugged, or go out to get revenge for someone who cannot. But he certainly won't jump into heroic causes that don't concern him, nor will he go out of his way to save strangers. Jago's not out to save the world, neither is he out to destroy it - doing good isn't a duty or a responsibility. Just something he needs to do when necessary. One thing he does more than anything is hide this side of himself. Usually justifying it as something he wanted to do, or making an asshole-ish comment to cover his ass and divert attention away from that trait.
Hobbies/Interests: Sports for starters. While Jago only really plays basketball and soccer, he loves to watch all other sports. Except for baseball. That's gay. Athletics is something he enjoys greatly. But the one thing he likes above all else are drinks! Not alcohol you fool, he's only fourteen. The point is, Jago will always be seen drinking soda, juices, and Gatorade. Other things he likes are chess and board games, video games, hot girls, hip-hop, and fighty fights.
Skills/Talents: Jago has quite a few, all of them were taught to him by others. His most obvious skill is that he's very agile and fast because of his acrobatic, and gymnastic training. He can climb, is very quick on his toes, and is very acrobatic. Jago is also exceptionally skilled at playing basketball, and has played a little bit of soccer. Jago has also taken an interest in arts. He's still green, but he is taking classes in drawing, sculpting, woodwork, and even knitting. Jago has also taken to skateboarding. Because he's a particularly mouthy teen, Jago's parents had invested in some Karate classes to teach him how to defend himself, and maybe discipline him. His greatest skill would have to be how clever, quick thinking, and creative he is. A cunning trickster by default, he can think outside the box merely by instinct.
Prized Possession: N/A
Quote(s): "A wise man told me that when putting others first; they know you just come second."
History/Bio: (Backstory for both Newt and Jago. Refer to Deborah's backstory for some more details)
Jago and Aisha/Newt were born into the Javuant family, a military family, whom already had a daughter. Their early life was simple, and rather fatherless since he was sent off to go fight in the war. They had fun as children until he returned from the war a year later. They were all moved to Black Fall, Pennsylvania - the Westgate community to be exact. As the twins grew up, it was apparent what kind of people they'd be. Jago was the young bruiser, while Aisha was the trickster with an interest in reptiles and amphibians. As they developed, they were given quite a bit of freedom, since once their father got home from the war, he didn't want to raise anymore kids. It was up to their mother's steady hand that put them on the path to greatness. Neither of them were anything special in class - however, Newt had trouble with school since she couldn't hold still and found herself getting distracted. Both of them did well enough to get by, and that's just about it. Then, there was the fact they had nothing to do after school was out. The only logical thing she could do was get them some hobbies. Initially, due to their existing mobility, they were both signed up for Gymnastics and free-running. A hobby that they both greatly enjoyed (Except Jago would rather go without the unitard) and allowed it to hone their agility and bodies. Jago had also taken a liking to artistic classes, and he was also into basketball, and soccer - Since he thinks that all the other sports were boring. There were some attempts to get him to play instruments, but they didn't stick. Newt on the other hand didn't get into hobbies other than gymnastics. She'd rather screw around with reptiles. Which meant her mother had to force her hand, and forced Newt to attend piano classes... It goes without saying that she didn't like it at all, but as she went to more and more classes, she warmed up to the idea of piano. Along with a few Spanish classes. Regardless, these hobbies were all outlets for them to properly learn how to socialize with people - probably.... Jago quickly learned to dislike other people, while Newt found herself getting ignored - so she drew attention to herself.
By the time they were ten, they began showing their true colors ; two wild eye children. Jago was already a young bruiser, aggressive and had one hell of a tempter. He started fights in school constantly - over the stupidest reasons -, and had to be picked up from school more than once. It was a worrying trend that would certainly end with their son dead if they didn't correct it. Grounding him didn't seem to have an effect, neither did beating him - in fact, the latter made him even worse. They were running out of options, so they went with the last resort; a disciplinary boot camp for children with behavior problems. A location that was out of state. Now this was where Jago was worked. He had to live under strict rules, and was punished severely for every outburst. Jago learned to restrain himself finally, and it did wonders for the young child's temper and taught him ways to channel his anger. But it didn't completely remove the issue, only teach him when and where to express it. The other kids there were pretty shitty, since they were sent here for the same reasons he was. Mixed with his standoffish and temperamental attitude, Jago didn't get along too well with the kids here. He was bullied constantly, and whenever he tried to fight back, he got punished. It was all a vicious cycle that did nothing to help the boy.
Newt on the other hand was struggling with the temporary departure of her brother. She was a major source of peer pressure for him, and she felt rather alone without him - since her sister is too old to actually relate to her. Worst of all, Newt's grades were declining due to her lack of focus and interest in it. It was suspected she had an disorder, but her mother had a bit of denial when it came to the matter, so she just chalked it up to Newt playing around too much. This caused Newt to be worked twice as hard in regards to her school work. Getting punished for what she didn't have control over. Getting countless tutors that did nothing to help. The sheer stress didn't help Newt's situation at all.
Jago's power manifested at boot camp, after getting into one last fight. Jago had fought back against some kids who were bullying him. He got beaten badly by what had to be five kids older than him. It was a scary situation, but in the process of swiping back at his enemies he had created a bubble shield around himself. It wasn't the shield itself that stopped the barrage, but it was merely the revelation that he was a Meta-human that scared them off. With he himself having little idea of what happened. Jago was immediately pulled out of the camp and sent straight home - he wouldn't have had it any other way. The moment he got home, he had a talk with his family about what happened, and through a bit of tinkering, he managed to replicate what he did. They didn't reject him since they already had one Meta-human (Deborah) in their family. So it was another one of their family secrets. He got registered at NEST, then Jago resumed life, went to school, indulged in hobbies - with Karate classes added to the list due to the incident. But whenever he was alone, he practiced with his shielding ability. He attempted to understand it - with the help of Newt he learned some of it's capabilities; it can stop most physical attacks from normal humans, but what about the big stuff like bullets? Well, Jago never got to know. Either way, he practiced with his ability to the point where he could control it (No one accidental activation). Jago took pride in his ability, he felt powerful, and the whole concept of being superhuman had inflated his ego. While the disciplinary camp had taught him to control his anger, he would still get into fights. Just for better reasons now.
On the other hand, Newt felt left out for being the only child in the family that wasn't a Meta-human, and worst of all, she met plenty of people who were. It was simply unfair! She eventually became jealous of her siblings powers and used every opportunity she could to undermine them. It didn't affect Deborah all that well, who knew of Newt's troubles, but it definitely caused her and Jago to drift apart for a while. They were all fighting over all the stupidest things. Arguing, pranking each other, and sometimes outright fighting. It was at that point they hated each other. This vicious cycle continued well until they were twelve - albeit to a more subtle level. They had matured somewhat, and everyone around them were getting tired of it. So their sibling rivalry died down - but not completely.
Meanwhile, Jago learned a new aspect of his power while sparring in a Karate class and accidentally floating upwards a few feet... He was immediately disqualified for cheating. But that didn't matter to him, he had a brand new ability to explore! He rushed home and experiment with it. At first, he could only move around, which gave him the theory that he can make shields and fly, but a few months of practice the epiphany came that his powers were actually telekinetic. Around this time, Newt had discovered her abilities during her gymnastics class. They had manifested long before, but she didn't notice them until she was in class, bending her body in unreal ways. At first she didn't know, but given the Meta-human nature of her families, she knew it was a power. So she went to NEST and got tested, and it was confirmed that she was a Super-System-type meta-human. Newt was ecstatic, her gymnastics had reached the next degree. Eventually, she had also learned that she had the ability to turn - in simpler terms - invisible during an argument with her mother.
The twins just had their fourteenth birthday and the opportunities are endless...
Family:
Father - Jacob Javuant
Mother- Susie Javuant
Uncle - David Termellio
Aunt - Taya Termellio
Sister - Aisha/Newt Javuant
Sister - Deborah Javuant
Relationships
Aisha "Newt" Javuant | Good | Twin-Sister | "You know, we fight all the time over stupid shit, but you we make a great team..." |
Deborah Javuant | Neutral | Big Sister | "She the complete opposite of me and Newt - in a good way - because she acts white as hell. But whatevs. Smart, real smart, probably because of that power of hers - but real talk, I hate the fact that I can’t hide anything from her. She knows more about what the helll is going on than I do, so I’m not going to complain." |
Shannon Balore | Neutral | Debby's Friend |"Carrot-top is Deborah's friend. The only reason why I can tolerate her. At least she can make me some good clothes sometimes." |
Blathnat "Sugar" Balore | Neutral | Shannon's Younger-Sister | "..." |
Henry Olin | Meh | NEST Agent | "Another NEST bitch, yo. Normally, I wouldn’t give a fuck about him, but he a pain in the ass when I start something. Worst of all, Newt and Debby love this freak of nature, so it’s hard as hell to get rid of him." |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Cerebral 7
Power: Jago has two abilities that are Telekinetic in nature. Whenever he uses either ability, he is surrounding it, and himself, in a aura. Both abilities require movement of his hands.
Telekinetic-Shields. Jago has the ability to create telekinetic barriers with little energy or focus as far as the eye can see. Jago's barriers are translucent, dark-purple or blue, and come in a variety of shapes and sizes. Though, Jago is more specialized in creating walls, he can create curved walls, or spheres. He can't move them, the barriers are effectively stationary (Though, they can be moved with enough strength) until he becomes more refined in them, but he can create floating shields just fine. He can control what goes through them. For example, he can make it so that people can attack from inside his shields, or render them inaccessible from both sides. These force-fields have varying levels of durability, all depending on how much effort he puts into it. They can be enough to block a person, or stop an augmented punch from a super-strong meta. Though, the more pressure they're put under, the harder it is it for him to keep them going. Right now, Jago can only create bouncy, flexible shields. If his shields were hit by anything, they would deform, and Jago would be able to bounce it back, with a variety of other uses. Bouncy shields are a bit harder to destroy than his other shields because they're far more shock absorbent. He's working on creating traditional, "solid" shields by gaining a higher degree of control. He will be able to learn how to create reflecting, and deflecting shields with time. In regards to energy, or non-physical, attacks, Jago's shields block simply them regardless of the type of shield he has deployed, and they cause no deformations in his shields. One technique he believes he can do is that he can wrap his barriers around his limbs, to create an armor around himself. Bringing his durability up a bit. There are plenty more techniques he can come up with as he becomes better at controlling his ability, but it's more of a creativity kind of thing. He just needs to think outside the box with his power, and he can possibly become more dangerous than anyone else.
Telekinesis. Making up the other half of Jago's power is good old telekinesis, baby! A recent development, and it came with the epiphany that his power is truly telekinetic in nature. By default, he can do the usual telekinetic techniques of lifting, throwing, pushing, attracting, and generally controlling the motion of any solids. It's also possible for him to bend, crush, or stretch objects. He does these techniques via hand/arm, and leg, motions - it's also possible to move it with a thought, but his control won't be as precise. By pointing his hand at an object, and with concentration, he can move it, as it "follows" his motions. By thrusting his hand outward, or swinging it really hard, he can send it flying at a speed of his choice. Get the idea? It's entirely possible for him to do this to multiple objects at once - with one motion, in fact. He can also be extremely precise with his telekinesis. The most he can lift up without strain is 200lb. Another trick he has worked out is more or less tactile-telekinesis. By touching an object, a telekinetic aura will wrap around it, and allow him to move it in a similar manner to super strength - except it'll be held together by an external force. It will also give him a mental map of the object (Which helps with picking locks and so on). Using tactile-telekinesis gives Jago more raw strength, but it allows him to use his telekinesis on himself. More or less giving him the ability to control his own movements. Such as flight/levitation, sliding along the ground, putting more force behind his punches, controlling his balance, and more precise movements. There are plenty more applications he can do, but that'd bog down the sheet.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: The first problem Jago has is concentration. All of his abilities rely on focus and concentration. Break it, and all uses of Jago's power will be cancelled. He also requires hand motions for all of his abilities. While he can use them without motions, he won't be as refined or precise. Jago cannot use his shields and his telekinesis at the same time, he has to cancel one usage before beginning the other. However, he can fly/move around and make shields at the same time. Overusing his abilities (Or maintaining a single use for too long) causes his body to receive damage and degrade over times. This in the way of him bleeding out of every orifice, awful headaches, strain his muscles, and at it's most extreme; brain damage and failing organs.
For specific weaknesses, I'll start with his shields. There's the given weaknesses of larger and more durable his shields, the more effort it'll take to keep them going. However, Jago technically has no limit to how many shields he can put up at a time, but it comes down to a quality vs quantity thing. The more shields he has up, the less overall durability they'll have (Depends on size and durability). Putting constant pressure on Jago's shields is dangerous. While he can make them quite durable, the more pressure they're put under, the harder it'll be for Jago to keep them going. However, "constant pressure" means a lot of really hard hits coming on it at once. For example, a really strong punch won't cause any extra effort, but a barrage from anything stronger than a .40 Cal will make it harder for Jago to keep it going. It's also possible to break them if they get hit with more than what they can take. While his flexible shields are more durable than other types of shields, they have a few more disadvantages of their own. If Jago (Or anyone else) is too close to the shield after they take a heavy hit, the excess force may whip back and hit someone behind the shield. Bouncing attacks off his shields might also be hazardous for everyone else. They can also be pierced with enough force, or if someone tries to run through it with a blade. Jago's harder shields aren't as shock absorbent and easier to break with stronger hits. Reflecting and Deflecting shields are weak against slow moving objects, and someone can simply walk right through them. While Jago's shields can stop energy and physical attacks, the only thing he can't block are light based attacks such as lasers and the likes.
For weaknesses specific to his telekinesis, they're simple. Moving heavier objects, moving objects quickly, and the more advanced uses, tire him out faster. The absolute weight-limit to Jago's telekinesis has to be two tons, and he wouldn't be able to move anything close to that weight without pushing himself far beyond his limits and coming close to ashing. The most he could hope to do is bring a stop to it. There's also a few limits when it comes to people (All of which might be psychological). He can move people around (Even restrain or throw them), but he can't do stuff like choke them, bend them behind their natural limits, tear them to pieces, and such and such. Obviously, his telekinesis ability only applies to solids - he cannot manipulate energy or anything on an atomic level. He can manipulate liquids somewhat, but not to a great degree.
Other:
Name: Aisha Phoebe Javuant
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Newt, Phoebe
Gender: Female
Age: 14
Height: 5'4
Weight: 125
Home District: Westgate
Appearance
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Ethnicity: African-American
Physical Appearance: Newt is certainly a young and spastic teen. Much like her twin brother, Newt is much taller than a girl her age should be. She is nearly at the average adult female height. But she herself still feels rather short compared to other people. Her frame is thin, and her body is trim from all the activity she goes through. She's basically skin and bones. She has the appearance of someone who's transitioning into a healthy woman, or someone in the middle of puberty. Her voice is getting deeper, her breasts are growing, with gaining a more womanly shape (Curves and hips). It seems like she'll certainly be a full woman once she finishes, but she's far from that. But she's certainly feminine. She's energetic, and never can seem to hold still, and her movements are quick and wild. Even when she's holding still, she's always looking like she's about to explode in a ball of energy. Strangely enough, Newt does not have one mark on her body. Her skin is so clear and flawless that it would make a super-model jealous. It’s surprising since, given the rough play she goes through, anyone would expect her to be heavily scarred. Newt is clearly African-American, her skin, skull-shape, and facial features are consistent with African-Americans. Her skin is a dark-brown color. However, Newt's body is splattered with black freckles against her brown skin. Newt's facial features are rounded, and smooth, nothing looks disproportionate from one another. She has a rectangle shaped head, and with a small square chin much like her brother. She doesn't have much of a jawline at the moment, but it is developing. Her nose is medium sized with rather big nostrils, and a thin nose bridge, making her nose look almost triangle shaped. Surprisingly, it isn't crooked or broken. She has thick lips that are usually painted bright red via lipstick. She has some small ears that are thin, and kinda pointy. Her eyes are very large, and round, they have a puppy-eyes look all the time. Her iris is a brown color. She has a long neck. In terms of hairstyle, Newt has two large afro puffs on each side of her head. Normally her hair is wavy, and thick, but she doesn't really maintain it all that well, so it's pretty messy and dirty. Often, Newt has a few stickers of stars on her cheeks, or alternatively, she draws stars on them with a marker.
Attire: Newt would love to wear all the clothing that her parents would never let her wear, but she's forced to look somewhat presentable. But if given the opportunity to, she would wear ripped jeans, leggings, stockings, bikinis, and just skimpy clothing in general. Though, she is forced to dress somewhat normally. She'll be forced to wear clothing that covers her skin, such as jeans, and jackets. Through Newt likes to take this to it's logical extreme and dress up like a ninja. Wearing hoodies over hoodies and jackets over jackets. She's also fond of wearing gloves, boots, and high heels. The most standout feature of Newt's attire is that ridiculously long bright-red scarf with black edges. It's at least seven feet in length, and she keeps it wrapped around her neck or her face. Usually Newt is seen wearing jewelry of the ear-ring variety. Sometimes she's seen wearing hoop earrings, or usual.
Personality
Outward & Innate Personality: A real wacky motherfucker. Newt is a teen that lacks tact, crude as hell, and will say just about anything that's on her mind. She won't refrain from saying rude, strange, or mean, things about people because it'll amuse her. Her favorite targets are the weak, annoying, and innocent - because they are so much fun to screw with. But she mainly goes for the people who can't fight back. She is quite rebellious and insolent, she dislikes authority figures with a passion, and will go out of her way to screw with them - sometimes for no reason other than because she can. It goes without saying that she tends to ignore and disobey orders whenever possible. It goes without saying that she's a chaotic neutral. Newt does whatever she pleases, right or wrong - however, she knows when to stop and tries not to go too far. People can tell that she's quite the hedonist, merely because the pleasures in life are all that really matters to her. But she definitely has altruistic tendencies. Newt doesn't have the best social skills on the planet, she is someone oblivious to how people interact with each other, and it shows when she says inappropriate (Or sexually charged) statements. Or the times when she invades people's personal space (Touching people, getting really close, etc). Newt likes to draw attention to herself, especially when other people stop paying attention to her. Merely because she hates being ignored and forgotten about. Another thing people will notice is that she's extremely nosy, and isn't afraid to stick her nose in other people's business. Going to the point of even invading people's privacy. She has trouble concentrating, and holding still. She's always so energetic that if she isn't stopped, she'll be all over the place. It's highly suspected that she has ADHD, which is something that upsets her. Underneath the wacky personality, Newt really cares for other people, and honestly wants to be their friend. She really cares about her siblings. While she tends to appear to brush things off - Things like criticism, insults, and so on tends to be rather damaging emotionally. In response to this, Newt can be quite vengeful. She will go to petty lengths to get even with people who wronged her (Or get the feeling that she did). If she can't, she'll have a hell of a hard time letting go, and will mull about it for ages. In terms of sexuality, Newt is bi-curious. She often finds herself being attracted to girls, while she prefers boys. It's something new to her that she's entirely unsure about. Newt keeps it a secret, but only Deborah knows about her preferences.
Hobbies/Interests: If the nick name didn't give it away, Newt loves reptiles and amphibians. Especially frogs, and salamanders. If she sees any scaly friends she will absolutely lose her shit and be all over that. Other than that, Newt is surprisingly interested in things like classic literature, old movies, and poetry. She's also a fan of various animated series, her favorite being anime.
Skills/Talents: A girl that's really light on her toes. She's fast, agile, quiet, and can hide pretty well. Just pray to God that you're not playing hide and seek with her. This is partly due to being in gymnastics. She's also a very good pick-pocket, using her powers in conjunction with her dexterous hands. Newt is also being forced to learn to play piano, she's not that good at the moment, but she's getting there. She also knows how to speak Spanish. Her twin brother Jago has shared a few of his skills with his. Such as his Karate, basketball, and so on.
Prized Possession: Her impractically long scarf.
History/Bio: (Refer to Jago's sheet)
Family:
Father - Jacob Javuant
Mother- Susie Javuant
Uncle - David Termellio
Aunt - Taya Termellio
Brother - Jago Javuant
Sister - Deborah Javuant
Relationships
Jago Javuant | Good | Brother | "Hahahaha... Jago, pttf. A goon, wannabe, tough guy, fun. He’s all of those things, and more… Me and him working together… with trouble on our mind… we can get shit done." |
Deborah Javuant | Good | Big Sister | "Big sis! A big name around Westgate, probably because of her power only. Everyone calls her the Secret Keeper? Ha, give me a damn break. I know one of her biggest secrets, and I don't plan keeping it." |
Shannon Balore | Meh | Debby's "Friend" | "She's totally a carpet muncher, you know?" |
Blathnat "Sugar" Balore | Neutral | Shannon's Younger-Sister | "I should buy her a peg leg!" |
Henry Olin | Great | Lizardman! | "Me and him… we’re similar y’know. I know he’s my friend.... Buuuuut I would like him better if he wasn’t a NEST lapdog. Heheheheheh!" |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Super-System 6, & Cerebral 3
Power: Super-Human Condition. Newt has a godly body for a fourteen year old girl. She is at her (Super-natural) prime. That said, Newt has your typical superhuman abilities. Her body has been enhanced in a few fields, such as her agility and strength, among other things. However, her agility is simply top-tier, and easily the most improved part of her body by a long shot. She's insanely flexible, she can go from one motion to another with ease, sprint, do backflips, and other tricks with little effort. Her body/muscle control, hand-eye coordination, and balance are insane, allowing her to perform stunts with little strain on her body. Newt can also bend twist her body far beyond the normal limits, her muscles and skin are more flexible, and her limbs are double-jointed. Meaning she can perform contortions that look like she's boneless. She's also great with those hands of hers, they move at a blur, and are insanely precise. Which can allow her to quickly snatch something. This power also allows Newt to run faster (at like 45 mph consistently - she can run at least 75 mph for a short distance) and jump higher (At least a good twenty feet in one leap). Her reflexes have been increased to boot, she can react to things the moment she sees it coming. In a fight, the implications are obvious; she can easily and effectively dodge attacks - moving like a blur. Finally, Newt has the ability to wall crawl by taking advantage of van der Waals force. Newt can cling to any surface. Newt's strength has also been enhanced by a few notches, and supplements her agility. She can lift up to 650lb on her own, and that's enough to throw a grown man around like it's nothing, or throw a bone breaking punch. Newt's senses are also improved by a degree, specifically her sense of smell, hearing, and sight. She can smell on par with animals, hear a needle drop, and her eyesight allows her to see in the dark, see further, see clearer, and pick up movement much better. Her healing ability has been enhanced, to the point of regeneration. Newt’s ability to regenerate damaged cells is astounding. She’d heal from superficial wounds like paper cuts, micro-fractures, and so on, in a few seconds. Bigger wounds such as deep cuts will be closed in half an hour. Broken bones would be healed in a week. Get the gist? She is also capable of regenerating limbs. It’ll take a few months to grow back something like an arm, but it’s possible. Because of her high healing-factor, her immune-system and metabolism have been similarly enhanced. And finally, her stamina has been enhanced to the point where she could sustain all of these feats, and not even need a breather. She can also hold her breath for awhile.
Sensory-Stealth. With a little bit of concentration, Newt can become invisible to the naked eye... sort of. Her power subconsciously alters the optic nerves and removes her from them. Thus, making her invisible to the naked eye, and not having to worry about being blind herself. Fortunately, this ability extends to her clothes, so she's not floating clothes walking around. The most she can cloak is her outfit. So far her power has no effect on the olfactory and auditory senses, but that could be a development for her. There's a possibility that she can become inaudible, and odorless in the future.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: Yes, Newt's body has been enhanced to godly levels, but there are some aspects that haven't been enhanced; namely her durability. It's still technically at the human level, and in some areas, weaker than the human average. Her joints, tendons, and ligaments are frail, and much easier to damage. She must know her limits, and control her body accordingly. Since, while she has the strength to bench press a piano, her skeleton can't support it and it'd still crush her. If she punches someone full force, then she's not going to be using that hand for awhile. Even if she jumps and lands the wrong way, she could break a joint very easily. And, even with regeneration, she's no wolverine, she can't instantly bounce back from damage, she needs time. Newt is a fragile-speedster by default, fast as hell, but can't take too much of a hit. That said, there's more weaknesses. Specifically in terms of her metabolism, it runs fast enough that she remains in great shape, but it also means her body requires more food, drink, and rest in order to keep function. If she goes without those for too long, then her body will shut down. And that's bad. Her regeneration has a few weaknesses of it's own. For starters, it kicks her metabolism into overdrive, and can drain her far quicker than usual. Then there's the fact that she can't heal from brain damage, or attacks that would instantly kill her. If there's an object in the way, it interferes with her regeneration until the object is removed. Also, if a broken bone isn't braced properly, then it will not heal correctly, and will likely have to be broken again. Her enhanced senses also present a few, rather obvious, weaknesses of their own. Sensory overload. Bright lights, loud sounds, strong odors, you see, attacks on the senses tend to be extremely painful for Newt, and almost just as damaging. Taking a flashbang to the face would render her blind and deaf, at least until her healing factor corrected the damage. Finally, while Newt can resist fatigue, it doesn't mean she can go on forever. The lactic acid buildup would cause an incredible pain, and force her to stop whether she wants to or not (Or else it'll be painful).
That ability is called Sensory-Stealth rather than outright Invisibility. The main weakness to this ability is range. The further people are, the easier they can see her. Allow me to explain, she's completely invisible to people that are around fifteen feet of her. Outside of that, she can vaguely be seen (Without her facial features being visible) and the further out she is, the easier she can be seen. Further than thirty feet she's completely visible. The more objects Newt is making invisible, the harder it is to maintain overall. Which includes clothes, the more clothes she’s wearing, the harder it’ll be for her to remain invisible. Moving fast while stealthed will cause her to turn visible. She has to be standing still or moving relatively slowly to use this ability. Then there's people with enhanced/extra senses that can easily detect her. She isn't invisible to electronics either.
Other:
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Name: Carmen Brenna Santo Jr.
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Lily
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Height: 5'3
Weight: 132
Home District: Uhhh... She's a street rat. Sooo...
Appearance
Hair Color: Dark-Brown
Eye Color: Amber
Ethnicity: Hispanic - Puerto-Rican
Physical Appearance: When people look at Lily, they get the feeling that she's a punk-type girl. The kind of girl that'd cause all sorts of trouble. Her personality thoroughly betrays feeling - But that's not for here. Lily has a nice, shapely figure, with curvy hips. Plus from all the running she did, she's quite thin. A little muscular around the legs and arms, but otherwise her muscles aren't that visible. She's very unimposing, and weak-looking, not the type you'd be afraid of in a dark alley-way. Mainly because she's quite short, a few inches under the standard female height. Lily has a long broken visage. Like a girl that used to be normal, before tragedy struck. Lily is Puerto-Rican, her skin is a nice shade of a light-brown color, and obviously showing that she's Hispanic. Her skin is a nice color... But far from perfect. Years of abuse and hardship have made her skin appear, less than perfect. It has plenty of scars, bruises, blemishes, and moles. Lily has her share of scars, everyone does. They range from the child-hood blunders everyone gets, to the more darker ones. By darker, I mean more interesting. She has a few facial scars. She has a two-point claw scars next to each other on her right eyebrow, that are a few centimeters in length. Her next scar is a scar that goes across her lips and her chin. Lily's last facial scar is one on her nose, that starts at the very tip of her nostril and goes a few inches towards her upper face. Like someone cut her nose open. She has plenty of scars on her body, but they're either small or generally irrelevant. Lily has a chemical scar on her chest, that starts over her right shoulder, and goes across her chest on to her right breast. Like someone (or thing) sprayed her with freaking acid. One notable thing about Lily is that she wears plenty of piercings - Which contributes to the punk vibe. Her piercings are all a matching silver metal. She has three small ball-piercings a inch or two under her right eye. On her left eyebrow she has two small silver rings firmly embedded in her skin. Lily has a some piercings on her nose too. Another tiny ring placed on the septum of her nose. Two ball piercings were also placed on the bridge of her nose. As it may have been expected Lily's ears have been pierced, she keeps large hoop ear-rings in them.
As I mentioned, Lily's a little broken. Her head is heart-shaped, and her facial features are quite sharp. Lily has strong, round cheeks, with rather large cheekbones that stick out a bit. Lily's nose is a little large. Her nose is triangle shaped with a pointed tip, her nostrils are a little small, and her nose-bridge is very large and pronounced. Her lips are medium-sized, and kinda large, they have a light-brownish red color to them. She has a bit of a large mouth. Lily's eyebrows are thin, and they orbit her eyeballs - Like it's been mentioned before, she has scars, and piercings, on them. Her chin is flat, and small, it blends into her jawline quite well. Lily has large, round ears, that point outward. She has a sharp and pronounced jawline. Lily's eyes are very large and rounded, and a amber color. Lily's hair isn't very maintained, a little while of living on the the streets makes that difficult. Her hair is straight, very long, back-length, and she has lots of it. She keeps it in a long pony-tail, but a little bit of her hair is brushed over her right eyebrow to conceal her scars.
Attire: Lily dresses to accomplish two things; to cover up much of her skin as she can without looking crazy, and to look stylish. Lily, most of the time, dresses up like a punk, or a tough-girl. She's always seen wearing a jacket of some sort. Leather, jean, etc. Usually unzipped to show any shirts that she has underneath (Mostly T-shirts). She wears gloves, any gloves, as long as they match her jacket, and never goes without them. For footwear, it all depends on if it'll match, but most of the time she'll be seen wearing some sort of boots. Lily's a fan of high heels, so she'll sometimes be seen wearing those too. One thing Lily will never be seen without is a scarf wrapped around her head. The color, pattern, and size changes from day to day. She'll also be seen wearing a variety of jewelry, such as bracelets, rings, ear-rings, necklaces, etc.
Personality
Personality: Lily's a very conducted and composed woman. Lily has seen a lot in her life, and it shows in her rather aloof and distant personality. Lily is usually very nervous around other people, and is equally jumpy. People can easily scare her. But the one thing that she fears the most is contract with other people. Lily doesn't like to be touched, nor does she like to touch other people. She'd like it if everyone kept their hands to themselves. But all in all, she can be quite friendly and warming. She displays a high level of kindness, maturity, and even has a motherly side. Lily is very protective of the people she cares about, fiercely in fact. It goes to show that, despite living on the streets and not having the most ideal past, her social skills and morality have not faltered. Though, she's not very open - she'll keep her lips sealed when it comes to her past, and more importantly her power. Lily has had bouts of depression from time to time, and is extremely sentimental. If anything reminds her of her past, she will go into a deep longing state. Longing for a normal life, longing for anything really. Lily can be quite spiteful and judgmental if pushed, if anyone does anything that she doesn't approve of. She doesn't forgive people that easily - even if they apologize, she'll still think less of them until they're redeemed - and even then, she'll still make a few snarky taunts. That said, Lily has a very short temper, but is capable enough to keep it to herself and herself controlled. But it tends to erupt when people complain about small things, or when things really don't go her way. Going off of that, Lily sees herself as a great leader. She believes that her choices are the best ones, and that she's the rightful leader of any group she becomes apart of. To the point where she becomes extremely domineering. Which is a habit that puts her at odds with other people very quickly. But deep down, Lily's just a broken bird. She's lived a rather bad life rather recently and has been through some things. The things that left her traumatized and feeling like utter scum. Which is why she doesn't do too good in social situations anymore. She feels less of herself than ever before. Lily goes out of her way to prove herself as a good person, instead of a Hispanic punk. Deep down, Lily really does care about people, and hates to see them in times of misfortune. Which is why she tends to take a situation by the horns and take charge - Because she feels that her way is the best course to take. Lily definitely isn't the romantic-type. She keeps any and all relations platonic at all costs. She isn't truly aromantic, it'll take a bit of effort for Lily to become romantically attracted to someone. Though, her power makes it extremely difficult for her to have a relationship without killing her partner.
Hobbies/Interests: Lily has a few. Lily's a fan of TV shows, the kind about crime, police and detectives. Such as Law & Order. It may sound rather childish; but it's one of her fantasies that she's one of them. Lily also likes gardening, and flowers in general. That's one thing, and how she got her nickname - Her favorite flower is the Lily flower.
Skills/Talents: Lily has lived on the streets for a little while - Which has given her a few skills. Well, a few skills she already had learned, but living on the streets really perfected them. Like Lily's good at sneaking, and stealing stuff. She can also pick locks well, if given the right tools, she can open up most locks. Lily has a small bit of medical training, the practical kind. She knows how to use a first-aid kit, and perform CPR.
Prized Possession: N/A
Quote(s): "How can my deep secret make us all suffer..."
History/Bio: Lily's early life was relatively simple. She was the first born child of five sisters, and she lived in New York City for a majority of her early life. However, by the time she was six, her father had disappeared one day without a word, and never came back. Lily's mother attempted to go find him, but since he was a long adult, the police didn't make any effort to go locate him. They just assumed he didn't want to be find and called it a closed case. Her mother went sad with depression and grew rather apathetic, and her daughters took an even worse hit. They had to go through crucial points in their lives without a father figure. This left a few negative marks on Lily's upbringing. Life carried on without Lily's father, but once she became ten, she was gifted with a very powerful ability. The kind of ability that'd make NEST tremble. She gained the ability to gift people powers, and super-charge them far beyond their established potential - along with an innate connection to the energy. But at this point, Lily had no clue about her power. When she first developed her power, it was so weak that she barely noticed it, and it would go under NEST's radar for a long time. What she didn't know is that through every contact with another person - every brush, every hug, every kiss - she was transferring a bit of her power into them. Slowly giving them powers themselves.
Lily's life continued, but once she hit her teens her lack of a father figure, and freedom, became painfully apparent. She didn't exactly know how to conduct a non-sexual, nor was there anyone who really stopped her from going to events like parties. So, in short, she became the kind of girl that did all the things she wasn't supposed to. Sex, drinking, drugs, all of that. It was all in the name of fun, so why did it matter that she basically became a hedonist? A consequence she wasn't aware of was that her power was developing. Rapidly. The potency of her power had almost quadrupled by the time she had first got it. Which meant that extended contact with her would develop powers. She had left a trail of Meta-humans - ex-boyfriends, friends, and family - behind her. By the time she had realized she had a power, when she was around sixteen, her entire family had developed powers, and many of her friends did too. It was a big deal for NYC's NEST branch, since they had get to the bottom of why so many people were spontaneously developing powers. An investigation was conducted, and Lily stayed the hell out of it. She was afraid of what would happen if NEST found out about her. Fortunately, the energy inside of her was unique to her, and downright incompatible with their sensors, so they wouldn't have known that she's a Meta-human. That said, she tried to continue with her usual lifestyle while trying to keep her power a secret - she had little clue of what her power could do, nor could she control it.
Unfortunately, she couldn't keep her power a secret and continue living with her lifestyle. While in a rather intimate encounter with her current boyfriend, whom she had given Telekinesis, she had discovered the most terrifying aspect of her ability: the Overcharge. It was an effect when a Meta-human is filled with so much energy that they are unable to control it. That said, her boyfriend created a telekinetic storm while on top of her, but fortunately she was able to get away from him in time. It absolutely leveled a city block... and not everyone was able to get away. NEST was immediately on scene, just as Lily was getting away from there soon as possible. She ran home and stopped functioning for what seemed to be days, she was so shocked by what happened she couldn't move. She told her mother everything, everything. This was when Lily decided to change. Turn her back on that lifestyle, become a new, different, person. One that didn't indulge in every physical pleasure out there. One that would learn how this power of hers work - she didn't go to NEST out of fear that they would arrest her for the deaths of those people (And hiding the fact that she's a Meta-human for what had to be years). Lily stopped going to school for a while, and fell out of contact with the bad crowd she had become integrated with (Purposely, she doesn't want to associate herself with them anymore).
Since her entire family had turned into Meta-humans, it allowed her plenty of people to practice on. Lily had worked out the basics of her power, and learned that she actually charged Meta-humans by transferring her energy. Along with the revelation that she could control the powers of others to a limited extent. Already this news made her realize that she is an extremely powerful Meta-humans. Something that she was desperate to hide, she wanted to live a normal life. It was a year before she went back to school again, immediately turning her back on her old habits. But it was hard... witnessing the consequences of her actions. Which happened to be plenty of Meta-humans made out of her former friends. She also learned that many of them didn't make the cut and were deemed unfit to function in society (Thus, placed in containment), and she felt guilty for them. That said, she integrated back into school quite well, turning her back on her previous life. Lily lived her life to it's fullest.
However, Lily's life took a turn for the worse by the time she was almost twenty, her home was attacked by that boyfriend she had overcharged a few years ago. He was imprisoned by NEST for losing control of his powers, but during a security slip up, he managed to get away. And the first place he went was Lily's house. You see, he had developed an obsession for her, he longed for her, he longed for the power she had given him. Whether it was the overcharge corrupting him, or that he lusted for power, was up to debate. Back to that, he launched an attack on Lily's family. A battle took place, which resulted in Lily's house getting destroyed, and her entire family being sent to the hospital. NEST arrived on scene to bring down her boyfriend, but he managed to escape. In the aftermath of it all, Lily was the only one who made it out uninjured, but she had received many mental wounds (And these wounds, they will not heeeeaal). NEST had arrested her entire family, believing that they had an equal part in the battle. Worst of all, her crazed boyfriend was still on the loose.
She had one choice.
Run.
Lily grabbed everything she could set out onto the world... Just heading anywhere that wasn't where she was. She left New York City, and traveled the northernmost part of the East Coast. Day after day she went to a new location. It was the hardest part of her life in fact. Trying to get by on scraps and charity, and evading NEST. She was barely even sure that she was followed by him. Whatever was the case, she felt so guilty that she managed to get the people she cared about injured, and she felt as if their lives would be better without her and her troublesome power. Lily's adventure brought in her contact with many different Meta-humans, of many ages, genders, and powers, via the Black Fall effect. Which allowed her to make friends with people to score herself a meal and a place to sleep sometimes, but she never stuck around for long. Just out of fear that somebody would catch up. While she attempted to keep her power a secret and avoid using it, out of fear of NEST tracking her, she found herself in situations where her power got used. In rather unpleasant ways. The best she could do was pack up and move on.
Her next destination was Black Fall...
Family: Lily hasn't spoke to her family in years, but she's given her entire family powers.
Mother - Carmen Santo Sr. (Has Empathy)
Father - José Santo (Disappeared)
Sister - Vanessa Santo (Has the power of Metal Mimicry & Manipulation)
Sister - Alicia Santo (Has Super-Speed)
Sister - Julieta Santo (Has Telepathy)
Sister - Nicole Santo (Has Power Replication)
Relationships
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Power 9
Power: Pseudo-Meta-Human Energy. Lily has an innate and instinctive connection to the very essence of Meta-human powers. The power reacts to her differently, and she can see the energy within them. Through this connection she is capable of gathering information about the powers of those around her. First and foremost, Lily can sense Meta-humans and any usages of their power. She constantly knows of every meta-human within a thirty meters of herself, how strong they are, and she can pick out individual meta-humans. But it is possible for her to expand her radius with focus. One thing I should note is that this ability to sense bypasses any and all stealth abilities - because that stealth is the result of a power, fool! Lily is capable of scanning whoever's power she can focus on, but she also automatically gains information on powers whenever they are used in her vicinity. That's getting the information aspect out of the way, the other half of her power is that she contains a unique version of the Meta-human energy. A bright red and flowing "Pseudo energy" as she coined it. Lily can release this energy through physical contact, or alternately, she could fire it off in forms like bolts, beams, and more - but Lily rarely does this. It's entirely possible for her to fill a room with this energy. But before you get any ideas, no, this isn't an offensive technique. The energy she emits cannot harm people (directly). But, this energy's special property is that it absorbed into the bodies of humans and has different effects, depending on if you're a Meta-human or not. If you're a regular baseline human, the energy will be harmlessly added to their being and will cause powers to develop. This all depends on how much energy she pumps into a single human. A small amount wouldn't cause powers to develop, but an extended amount would. Powers would develop months later, but yeah, she can still cause people to develop powers. What it can do to Meta-humans is enhance their abilities. Anyone she enhances will find that they can use their power with far more strength, efficiency, and control. The more energy Lily charges someone with, the stronger they'll be, and the longer the charge will last. She could give a pryomancer the ability to conjure a fire-storm with a flick of their wrist, or allow someone to regenerate slightly better. As a side-effect of having this unique form of the energy, Lily is immune to NEST’s anti-meta-human technology as it’s incompatible with their devices.
However, Meta-humans function somewhat similar to a battery. They are only made to contain a set amount. And like everything made to contain a certain amount, when it reaches the top, it's gonna come out. Which leads into the most terrifying and destructive aspect of her power, the Overcharge. It's when they're filled with more power than they can possible control, and are forced to release it. The results certainly are... destructive. Think of an overcharged Meta-human as a bomb, capable of causing destruction on a large scale. Any Meta-human that gets overcharged has a very-high chance of ashing - but if they survive it, their powers are permanently enhanced. But surviving the over-charge is quite rare, and I'm going to be honest here when I say that NEST will hunt down any Overcharged Meta like a dog. So it's unlikely that they'll be able to enjoy their newfound enhancements. Lily has also realized that she is capable of manipulating the Energy inside others to an extent. This gives her a very limited form of Power Manipulation. She can temporarily alter the traits and capabilities. Such as focusing someone's strength into one usage, or enhancing one aspect of someone's power for another. That's just a few examples, this ability has a ton of usages. One technique of note is that Lily can save someone from ashing. It's a simple action of stopping the ashing process, but unless she immediately does it, the victim will still receive permanent damage. Lily is also capable of inducing negative alterations in someone's power. She can't outright weaken powers, but she can make powers harder to control, and use much more energy to use.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: Lily's body constantly produces the energy, and she too has a limit to how much energy she produces. That said, whenever she uses her power, any active power usage, she will use up a bit of this energy. But, once she uses her power a lot, instead of simply being cut off from her power, it forces her body to produce more of the energy. Which can be quite detrimental to her biology. At best, it will cause pain, cramps, and exhaustion. At worse, it can devastate her metabolism, cause her immense physical pain, and will bring her close to ashing. But, the main problem that Lily has is that her power has been so hard to control. She could unintentionally activate every aspect of it as it takes a conscious effort for her not to use it. This may not seem like a weakness, but she could unintentionally release the Meta-human energy and charge the people around her. Especially under times of intense emotion. It's more of a personality weakness since she's rather desperate to keep her power a secret. The overcharge is an extremely destructive and terrifying force. One that is capable of widespread destruction. That said, Lily could easily be caught up in the chaos if she doesn't hightail it fast - which is hard, since Lily is most likely going to be in the epicenter of the whole incident. There's a very high fatality rate, and she might as well kiss that guy goodbye. In regards to her Super-Charging, After the charge wares off on someone, they'll find that their powers will be weaker for a period. Anyone using their supercharged abilities will find themselves getting tired out much easier - especially if they perform the larger and flashier usages of their power. Worse of all, people she charges will be at a much higher risk of ashing.
Other: Due to the unique nature of Lily's power, she remains under NEST's radars.
Basic Information
Name: Henry J. Olin
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Agent Olin, Call sign: Dragonfly, Captain Olin, various other nicknames he is aware of and embraces.
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Height: 8’3
Weight: 861 lbs
Home District: Currently works and take up residence in the NEST base as a meta human operative.
Appearance
At full height, he is visibly huge. He’s about as tall as the average polar bear at the shoulder when walking on all fours to give some perspective. He is in the same weight category as a bear or a horse as well, going to show he is far from a stick. Henry is still humanoid when standing upright, having a torso but no belly button mark is left. Assuming he's completely naked (normally he wears some special clothing that was designed for him at the institution, changes with his skin color) Henry can look very odd. Henry's scales are a dirty white coloration, and a red streak surrounds his eyes and runs like a racing stripe down each of his flanks, meeting at the end of his tail. He also has black, puma like splotches and stripes that liter his white scales giving him a very interesting, almost zebra or tiger like coloration. His scales are leathery in one direction and rough like sandpaper and sharp in the other, his skin being like that of a shark's- made of tiny teeth, which will change coloration on command. His arms and legs are thick and lanky: every inch of Henry's frame is taut with muscle; he is visibly the strongest person around- if you were to call him a person at this point. Henry's mouth and jaw have extended outwards as his head has become a snout with his transformation, his nose and face broadening outwards into a very saurian snout, with his ears and nose and other cartilage structures degrading away. He is entirely unrecognizable as the man once known as Henry Olin; now, he just looks like some freakish thing that crawled up out of Jurassic Park. He has a long, thick tail, which is prehensile, and extremely strong and powerful. It can curl up like chameleons or drag along the ground like an iguana’s, helping his massive frame balance more easily, or more commonly it comes up and off the ground when he walks on all fours or on two legs. Henry's hands have mutated heavily, his fingers elongating and growing huge three-inch claws. With one, his pinky, becoming a rough nub, is degraded away leaving him with only four usable fingers. His feet have already fully morphed into three-toed Raptor like feet. All of his toe claws are capable of extending like that of a cat's claw and releasing a huge sickle claw nine inches in total length. Henry's attire… due to one of his abilities normal clothes become a hindrance over anything else, and he is usually outfitted with his exosuite if he plans to use this ability to the maximum efficiency. However, in times of emergency, he is very happy to shred his clothing and haul ass out, as he can do so and still keep it PG. His genitalia, much like that of a reptile’s, is not readily viewed unless he wants them to be.
Hair Color: He tends to grow red and black feathers along his neck, at the end of his tail, and along his forearms (he grows some nice primaries).
Eye Color: The eyes themselves are yellow. His eyes lack irises.
Ethnicity: He doesn’t identify with any ethnicity. He uses this to his advantage.
Attire: This is really a case by case thing for him, more than any other character the moment. So I’m going to leave this blank for now.
Personality
Personality:
Henry is, despite what you might expect from him, and pretty cool guy. He's really laid back and will often share a good laugh if he can with anything or one, really. He has tried to be the change he wishes to see for the animal Meta humans. He's extremely smart, border lining insane. He is hurt when people don't give him the time of day for anything, but one of his character flaws or errors is that he is stubborn and will try to get everyone to like him. It's also this bull headed stubbornness that has gotten him into trouble before in doing things he shouldn't be. He allows himself to trust most anyone in the organization, and this can lead to pitfalls later on. He has an innate love for teaching and often acts as a drill Sergeant for some of the training regarding new Meta recruits from time to time. Hell, he just loves to help people develop. For back of a better description, he is a nerd, but he is somewhat cool nerd/king of the nerds. He will happily throw himself on the live grenade if it meant saving others. This is the Henry that most people see in Nest.
But when he’s on a mission… that is another story.
Henry is a powerful Meta human, capable of widespread destruction and loss of life. If he weren’t already with NEST, he’d be one of their prime targets. He has shown he is in complete control of his mentality, and has shown intellect and physical properties, which are both, superhuman. When on a mission it has been documented that he is different. He has described it as feeling innately on edge about everything. He is less talkative, less like a big teddy-lizard. He becomes more… predatory. He functions more often than not as a spec-ops agent who uses his abilities to survey persons of interest once their power has been confirmed. He uses stealth and silence over anything else to figure out the daily habits of those he is watching. When on a ‘Neutralization’ or ‘capture and contain’ missions, he tends to use the same strategy, but with different altercations. More often than not he is one of, if not the only Meta human in the group. His favorite strategy is to have his group drive the Meta human or target into a place where he waits, and then when they are there, he springs the trap and usually overwhelms them with his size, power, and speed.
Hobbies/Interests: Mostly eating and sleeping, as well as conversing with other members. He is one hell of a Mario kart player (he always chooses Yoshi), and he loves playing pool of chess from time to time. He has been trying to get his whole NEST squad to go to a local sports bar for a while. No one is sure why. He's got a mean poker face. A skill that he has learned from a friend.
Skills/Talents:
Henry is good at using his body. He knows his strength very well and how much to apply to bruise (or kill). Henry has also gone through basic and somewhat advanced military training. He is not a good shot, but he is a capable of wielding, building, and loading most forms of firearms well enough to pass boot camp. He is fairly good at handling delicate situations with diplomacy or with a careful hand (breaking up with your girlfriend or disarming a bomb with only basic instructions on how). He is in excellent control of his body and has excellent awareness of where he is and how strong he is, as well as him limits. Henry is a seasoned veteran when it comes to Meta human combat and diplomacy.
He’s also really fucking good at eating competitions. He once ate all of his own, as well as his opponent’s food in a hot dog eating contest and won NEST 3000$.
Prized Possession:
Quote(s):
“You want to know how I deal with things at my size? Think of this as an egg. You know what, think of EVERYTHING, as an egg.”
"You see the world with your eyes. Imagine being able to see it with your ears, or with your nose. What about with all three? This is how I experience day to day life."
"I can smell your fear... Seriously wear deodorant, Jesus."
"Bring him here. If you can do that he'll never see the light of day again."
"It's really fucking cold out holy shit someone get my tail a coat."
History/Bio:
Henry J. Olin was born in May, 1988.
When he was born, he was average weight, and had a full head of hair and looked like a little old man. He did nothing but scream and shit for three days after that.
And for a while, Henry was a normal boy. He attended normal school, was normal height, and looked like a normal half Japanese boy from a normal upper middle class Canadian family.
Then, when he turned twelve in 7th grade, puberty hit him like a freight train. Unlike most his awkward phase was extremely short. Also unlike most he turned into a huge ass lizard monster.
Yes you read that right.
Within the span of a week he had literally eaten all the food in the house, undergone excruciating pain, and became literally the most pissed off kid you will ever meet. Brooding teenagers have nothing on him. He quite literally nearly took his sister's hand off for trying to swipe away a spare meatball. If this was Oregon trail everyone's diets were set to bare bones for about eights for sheer survival purposes as he literally ate everything (bite makes on the dinner table for evidence). Henry's mother took him to the hospital, and to many forms of therapists and none of which had ever seen something like him before.
Henry was taken out of school, and as he regained control over himself and his body calmed down, he wasn't anywhere near what he was when the transformation began eight days before. Standing at a staggering 6'5 from his previous 4'11, and weighing in at a gaunt 210lbs, Henry was unhealthy, and overall sick, but still much larger and stronger than his own father (Who was about 5'10, 170lbs). His body was still suffering the effects of the chemical changes and metabolism shift from warm blooded to lukewarm. His awkward stage continued for another week or so as his body adapted, and gained weight. He ate as much as before, but he wasn't as violent in doing so. Eventually he calmed down over the next two weeks, being a solid 401 lbs. At the weight of 411, he was actually capable of passing urine and passed his first stool since he began the change two and a half weeks before. When school started up again he did online school, and when the 8th grade year ended, Henry was placed on NEST's list after displaying superhuman abilities in terms of feats of strength, speed, stamina, and intelligence. Henry began to become smarter and excelling at work even more so than what his already intelligent parents thought he ever would normally. At the age of eighteen he was classified as a level eight Meta human, and was contacted by NEST at the age of eighteen. When the time came, after many conversations with his family and with himself, Henry admitted himself into the training regime. He's seen some shit, and he's pretty damned hardened because of it. He would by lying if he said hadn't seen people explode, or kill others in fits of rage or fear. He's been in lot disasters too; he survived them and helped others push through it. He's experienced loss, but he's also experienced some of the most beautiful things the world has to offer.
He acts as one of the most powerful Enforcer’s of NEST’s civilian action and military operations (that most don’t see). The bite the backs up the bark. Henry is one of the best there is at what he does. He has been sent in for several investigations of Meta Human crime and has taken part in many missions that he can't tell you about without having to kill you. He is also one of the few and only animal Meta humans in NEST to have been determined safe enough to be taken out of the Box that also works for their organization.
Family:
Mi A. Olin - Mother
Noah R. Olin - Father
Samantha J. Olin- Older sister
Joy V. Olin - Younger sister
Relationships
Deborah | Good | Friend/Inspectee | "Deborah is smart, even without her power. With it she always seems to be able to predict when I’m coming. But she’s smart in a cooperative way. She’s never upset when I show up. She know’s it’s my job and that I have to do it. She helps me with what she can. I like that about her." |
Shannon | Neutral | Inspectee | "Shannon is nothing like Deborah. She has a stick planted firmly up her ass and rides a high horse as big as I am. She makes things hard for me. I’m tempted to just let Doug take the job for once and have her beg to bring me back.." |
Jago | Good | Inspectee/Detainee | "The kid’s got a lot of spunk. I respect that in him. He’s a fighter and stands up for what he believes and for others. His heart’s in the right place. On the flip side he’s broken a few minor laws in the past with petty theft and while I may like him it wont stop me from making him spend the night in a cell at the base." |
Sugar | Good | Inspectee | "I love Sugar. She’s such a sweet girl. I feel terrible for her that her legs is gone, and I feel terrible that she's scared of me. Her power is a bit of an enigma to us and I’ve seen never seen anything like it. She’s a good girl. I’m sure we’ll be able to help her out more fully soon." |
Newt | Good | Friend/Inspectee | "Newt’s a lot like me in terms of power. To a lesser degree of course, but we’re very alike. She and I can get along in that respect. She helps me out with the others more than anyone else. It’s nice to have someone other than Deborah backing me up when I need their help in calming everyone down." |
Jack | Good | Friend/Associate | "When you are working with someone like Jack, know your place. You're on their turf and they are the boss. Jack didn't like me at first, but as we worked together he warmed up to me because I treated him as a superior until he decided to treat me as an equal. He is my eyes and ears around the city. He watches out for those NEST doesn't know about, and in return he gets to stay off our radar. We both win our games. I'd go as far as to say he's my friend casually as well as professionally." |
Fredrick | Ballin' | Best Bro/Partner | "He's my number one fuckboi. 8/8 m8." |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Super System, 8
Power:
There is way too much to say about what exactly Henry can do.
Henry is a large, and very, very physically strong Meta human due to his sheer size. He is capable of potentially flipping a small car if he could get under one right, to give you an idea of his sheer physical value. While not armored like a crocodile, his skin is still fairly tough and leathery, more so than a humans at least, and his scales are very much like that of a sharks, almost like backwards facing teeth that reduce drag in the water and make his skin fairly rough or sharp when dragging your hand across it the wrong way. He is a very agile creature by nature. He is extremely flexible. He is able to bend and jump and move from place to pace at an incredible pace, his reptilian body being very good at navigating most areas with relative ease. His front limbs are longer than the average humans, allowing him to move on all fours with no discomfort, and his torso is slightly elongated, allowing him to almost prowl like a large cat. Coupled with a leg structure that is very different to the usual humans (with his ankle join extending out and giving him a second leg joint to work with) and his strength, he can effectively sprint at forty miles an hour. His legs are extremely strong and with the propulsion of his arms he can effectively lunge about twenty feet forward. His legs along allow him to jump surprisingly high for a creature his size and he will use this to his advantage. His senses are very well tuned and more power than any humans. He has a regenerative healing factor that allows him to regrow full limbs if they are lost, not just his tail, within a relatively short period of time. His body is long and lithe. His skull is long, his neck is long and flexible, his body and limbs would be called lanky if they weren’t so muscular, and his tail makes up easily half his length. This almost snake like body shape allows for fluid and elegant movement (if he times it right he can dodge a punch to the face by craning his neck) with relatively quick speed. His bones are also composed of thick cartilage, granting him an almost inhuman ability to bend and turn at odd angles without terrible amounts of discomfort. Thus giving him an even more flexible body.
Henry has most of the abilities of amphibians, lizards, snakes, and birds. A bacteria infested bite, claws, a nasty set of triple rowed teeth (some shark like, others more crocodilian), regenerative properties (able to regenerate limbs after a while), a very powerful form color change (Not invisibility, but close), and some other weird things thrown in there. It has been said that he potentially has the ability to shift to the female gender and then back to male, although this is largely unknown as nobody wants to go up to him and say "Hey, become a girl!" because he probably doesn't know how exactly to do that (and it's not like they know what he looks like besides hearing his voice). He also has the ability to breath in water through his skin like a frog, and... Well, in another way which he nor I want to discuss. You want to know how? Look up how Irwin's turtles do it. He also has an ability that opens up a whole new dynamic to his world, which is the ability to wall crawl. Employing a tactic much like Geckos, Henry’s hands are covered with tiny hook like hairs that allow him to latch on and hold onto nearly any surface. Because of how this system of crawling works, Henry is almost completely silent as he moves. Henry has an extremely powerful set of senses (hearing, sight, and smell, etc). Especially smell. He has two ways of smelling the air, which is through his nose and then through his tongue like a snake. Also like a snake, he has two pits right in front of his eyes that allow him to heatseek like a viper. Along his snout there are tiny pores that allow him to actually sense mild electrical pulses that come from muscle movement and the heart beating. His blood also has displayed a much lower pH than that of regular blood, making it un-survivable for most diseases, and will denature protein based compounds such as venom to the point where they function at a less potent effect, or simply do not function at all depending on the lethality. Speaking of venom, Henry has two large fangs like that of a rattlesnake’s that can spring out and are attached to the same muscles that allow him to retract his teeth. These fangs are not quite as thick as his crocodilian teeth, but are curved and about four inches in length, making them the largest teeth in his mouth. They fold back into the roof of his mouth most of the time. Because he is so large, the venom is relatively weak and acts more as a sedative over an actual Neurotoxins or Cytotoxin's. His jaws also have the ability to unhinge from his skull, and extend where his chin would be, allowing him to swallow things much larger than his skull whole if need be. Henry is a survivor. In times of trial and dire need for food and sustenance Henry has shown that he has ‘lukewarm blood’. His body temperature normally hovers around 76-81 F at any given time, as he is warm blooded. However, he can change his metabolism style to cold blooded, and can hibernate in this stage for a very long time, to the point where liver failure is the cause of death before he actually starves.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Henry is a very big creature. Big creatures eat a lot. Henry consumes about eight or nine pounds of food a day. To give you an idea of how much he eats, he will eat about three whole chickens every two days, ten in a week, about five hundred and twenty a year. That’s about 3,740~lbs, give or take, of food a year. The average American eats about 1,996lbs of food a year. He eats very close to twice as much as a human eats.
Because his blood is acidic, internal bleeding is a problem for him. The insides of his organs are resistant. The outsides? Not so much. While he can and has recovered from this, it is the best way to put him out of a fight. The reason behind this is because his blood can cause serious inflammation and swelling in the area of the wound. Because he is so big, Henry also has a hard time fitting into some spaces. This also works against him if he’s crawling on certain things. Most objects aren’t built to support things of his weight and he will break them. He has literally warped fire escapes in the past going down them from being on them, chairs collapse under his weight, you get the gist. His size makes him a larger target, and while he may be hard to hit, if you catch him by surprise you can hurt him. Blunt force weapons and bladed weapons (such as knives) are not very affective when dealing with him (a stab wound would seal within the hour, most likely). And flat out punching him, you’re more likely to hurt your hand over hurt him. A baseball bat is a better bet, but honestly, the best way to fight him is to literally come at him with a firearm or with something he has trouble flat-out absorbing, like fire or electricity, or anything that’s ranged. There is also the fact that he has hollow bones. While just as strong as a human’s, he has to be careful about throwing his body around all the time because he will break things. If he threw a punch and connected he would probably shatter his knuckles. Henry’s body also lacks stamina naturally. He, as a creature, is built for short bursts of movement instead of long distance speed. He is not built for chases, and most definitely not for distance running or a constant level of high activity over a long period of time. He might be able to sprint the 300-meter dash, but he’ll have trouble running the mile.
Because his senses are so powerful sensory overload can be a big problem for him. He literally cant handle large amounts of bright light and colors can cause him a lot of pain and confusion. Like, for him, without his exosuit, driving during the night or being near a busy street would probably render him in the fetal position with all the loud noises and bright lights from the car’s headlights.
If he goes into a hibernation like state to last as long as he does, he will most likely do nothing but breathe once and hour for a very long time. It is an emergency thing to do and it really isn’t good for his body to do it for long.
I’d also like to point out that Henry’s regenerative ability is NOT like that of Wolverine’s. It’s about twice as fast as a human’s. He will NOT bounce back from any wound unless it’s minor, much like a normal human. It can take him months to grow back a limb, and weeks to recover from various other injuries (The average stab wound recovery time is two to three weeks. Henry would recover in one to two weeks depending on where the injury is).
Other: He is the hero Black Fall deserves, but not the hero it needs (lol). His main method of transportation is an armored Mercedes G63 AMG 6x6 with bulletproof glass and all that. It’s probably the only car that he can fit in that can handle his weight and transport a lot of shit and others effectively. He loves it much.
Sample Post:
“So, I bet you’re wondering why we’ve called you here today.” The board head said.
There was silence in the room for a moment, and then Jacob West continued, pointing with a stick at a location marked on a map that was being displayed on an overhead. “There is-“
Henry piped in. “Meta human activity in that location that needs to be investigated?” he said. “Close.” Jacob replied. “The donuts are half off today. We need a brave volunteer to get up six hundred in total.” He said. “Any takers?” No one dared raise their hand to such a daring task… except for our hero, the great and noble Dragonfly. “I volunteer as tribute.” He stated proudly. The others looked to him, some smiling, some neutral with a look of respect. They looked up to him.
Well, they looked up to metaphorically as well as physically... You get the idea.
"Very good, Dragonfly," Jack said, walking over and giving him a list. "Here's the list of what we want."
It didn't take long for Henry to get into uniform. No exosuit, but enough gear to show he was a member of NEST. He walked outside, and got into his huge G63 6x6. It was a monster of a vehicle. And he was off, making 15 mpg as he drove. However when he arrived, he noticed his arch nemesis was attacking the store.
He stepped out of his car, and cleared his throat to catch the villain's attention.
"Dr. DoNuts," Henry started, a glare in his reptilian eyes. The insane donut with a cape turned around. "You cant defeat me this time, Fly!" He shouted. "The amount of donuts in this vicinity makes me all powerful!" He shouted, before raising his hands and sending a flurry of donuts flying in Henry's direction. Henry barely had any time to open his mouth before the first of many rocketing into his open maw. He choked for a second, before swallowing, and dove behind a car. Dr. DoNuts laughed maniacally. The giant donut of a man waited for a moment. "You can't hide forever, Dragonfly!" He shouted. Henry growled, but had an idea. Reaching down and digging his claws into the underside of the car he was behind, Henry grunted, but slowly lifted it onto it's side. He couldn't handle the maelstrom of donuts. No one man could. But Henry was smart. Henry could improvise.
Henry grit his teeth, and began pushing, creating a huge and heavy donut shield out of a car as the Doctor sent more weaponized pastries at him only for them to be blocked. When he was close, Dr. DoNuts attempted to bunker Henry, only to realized there was nothing there. "What is thi-" he began, only to shout in surprise as Henry rocketed at him from a place where there was previously nothing. He had camouflaged. He was fast, the doctor didn't react fast enough. He launched through the hole of the supervillain's torso. After landing with his unnatural grace, he pivoted on his heel to face the doctor. With the doctor's back to him, Henry used the opportunity to wrap his tail around the villain's leg, and with his immense strength, threw the villain through the window of the building. He hit the ground with a solid thud, but wasn't out.
"Impossible!" Dr. DoNuts breathed. "I had all this power..." He finished, just before Henry loomed over him and sink his large fangs into the doctor's arm, sedating him within a few minutes. Henry looked around at the wreckage left behind, then back down at the doctor's unconscious body.
"You know the rules Doctor," Henry began, training off for a second to put on his sunglasses. "Donut go breakin' the law."
Henry then proceeded to tie up the super villain and throw him in the back of his G63, only to walk back in and order his list of donuts. Because he saved so many lives, he was gifted them, free of charge.
Then he drove off into the sunset back to the NEST base, to make his branch head very happy with donuts and a rogue Meta human.
Such was a day in the life of Captain Henry J. Olin.
Name: Henry J. Olin
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Agent Olin, Call sign: Dragonfly, Captain Olin, various other nicknames he is aware of and embraces.
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Height: 8’3
Weight: 861 lbs
Home District: Currently works and take up residence in the NEST base as a meta human operative.
Appearance
At full height, he is visibly huge. He’s about as tall as the average polar bear at the shoulder when walking on all fours to give some perspective. He is in the same weight category as a bear or a horse as well, going to show he is far from a stick. Henry is still humanoid when standing upright, having a torso but no belly button mark is left. Assuming he's completely naked (normally he wears some special clothing that was designed for him at the institution, changes with his skin color) Henry can look very odd. Henry's scales are a dirty white coloration, and a red streak surrounds his eyes and runs like a racing stripe down each of his flanks, meeting at the end of his tail. He also has black, puma like splotches and stripes that liter his white scales giving him a very interesting, almost zebra or tiger like coloration. His scales are leathery in one direction and rough like sandpaper and sharp in the other, his skin being like that of a shark's- made of tiny teeth, which will change coloration on command. His arms and legs are thick and lanky: every inch of Henry's frame is taut with muscle; he is visibly the strongest person around- if you were to call him a person at this point. Henry's mouth and jaw have extended outwards as his head has become a snout with his transformation, his nose and face broadening outwards into a very saurian snout, with his ears and nose and other cartilage structures degrading away. He is entirely unrecognizable as the man once known as Henry Olin; now, he just looks like some freakish thing that crawled up out of Jurassic Park. He has a long, thick tail, which is prehensile, and extremely strong and powerful. It can curl up like chameleons or drag along the ground like an iguana’s, helping his massive frame balance more easily, or more commonly it comes up and off the ground when he walks on all fours or on two legs. Henry's hands have mutated heavily, his fingers elongating and growing huge three-inch claws. With one, his pinky, becoming a rough nub, is degraded away leaving him with only four usable fingers. His feet have already fully morphed into three-toed Raptor like feet. All of his toe claws are capable of extending like that of a cat's claw and releasing a huge sickle claw nine inches in total length. Henry's attire… due to one of his abilities normal clothes become a hindrance over anything else, and he is usually outfitted with his exosuite if he plans to use this ability to the maximum efficiency. However, in times of emergency, he is very happy to shred his clothing and haul ass out, as he can do so and still keep it PG. His genitalia, much like that of a reptile’s, is not readily viewed unless he wants them to be.
Hair Color: He tends to grow red and black feathers along his neck, at the end of his tail, and along his forearms (he grows some nice primaries).
Eye Color: The eyes themselves are yellow. His eyes lack irises.
Ethnicity: He doesn’t identify with any ethnicity. He uses this to his advantage.
Attire: This is really a case by case thing for him, more than any other character the moment. So I’m going to leave this blank for now.
Personality
Personality:
Henry is, despite what you might expect from him, and pretty cool guy. He's really laid back and will often share a good laugh if he can with anything or one, really. He has tried to be the change he wishes to see for the animal Meta humans. He's extremely smart, border lining insane. He is hurt when people don't give him the time of day for anything, but one of his character flaws or errors is that he is stubborn and will try to get everyone to like him. It's also this bull headed stubbornness that has gotten him into trouble before in doing things he shouldn't be. He allows himself to trust most anyone in the organization, and this can lead to pitfalls later on. He has an innate love for teaching and often acts as a drill Sergeant for some of the training regarding new Meta recruits from time to time. Hell, he just loves to help people develop. For back of a better description, he is a nerd, but he is somewhat cool nerd/king of the nerds. He will happily throw himself on the live grenade if it meant saving others. This is the Henry that most people see in Nest.
But when he’s on a mission… that is another story.
Henry is a powerful Meta human, capable of widespread destruction and loss of life. If he weren’t already with NEST, he’d be one of their prime targets. He has shown he is in complete control of his mentality, and has shown intellect and physical properties, which are both, superhuman. When on a mission it has been documented that he is different. He has described it as feeling innately on edge about everything. He is less talkative, less like a big teddy-lizard. He becomes more… predatory. He functions more often than not as a spec-ops agent who uses his abilities to survey persons of interest once their power has been confirmed. He uses stealth and silence over anything else to figure out the daily habits of those he is watching. When on a ‘Neutralization’ or ‘capture and contain’ missions, he tends to use the same strategy, but with different altercations. More often than not he is one of, if not the only Meta human in the group. His favorite strategy is to have his group drive the Meta human or target into a place where he waits, and then when they are there, he springs the trap and usually overwhelms them with his size, power, and speed.
Hobbies/Interests: Mostly eating and sleeping, as well as conversing with other members. He is one hell of a Mario kart player (he always chooses Yoshi), and he loves playing pool of chess from time to time. He has been trying to get his whole NEST squad to go to a local sports bar for a while. No one is sure why. He's got a mean poker face. A skill that he has learned from a friend.
Skills/Talents:
Henry is good at using his body. He knows his strength very well and how much to apply to bruise (or kill). Henry has also gone through basic and somewhat advanced military training. He is not a good shot, but he is a capable of wielding, building, and loading most forms of firearms well enough to pass boot camp. He is fairly good at handling delicate situations with diplomacy or with a careful hand (breaking up with your girlfriend or disarming a bomb with only basic instructions on how). He is in excellent control of his body and has excellent awareness of where he is and how strong he is, as well as him limits. Henry is a seasoned veteran when it comes to Meta human combat and diplomacy.
He’s also really fucking good at eating competitions. He once ate all of his own, as well as his opponent’s food in a hot dog eating contest and won NEST 3000$.
Prized Possession:
Quote(s):
“You want to know how I deal with things at my size? Think of this as an egg. You know what, think of EVERYTHING, as an egg.”
"You see the world with your eyes. Imagine being able to see it with your ears, or with your nose. What about with all three? This is how I experience day to day life."
"I can smell your fear... Seriously wear deodorant, Jesus."
"Bring him here. If you can do that he'll never see the light of day again."
"It's really fucking cold out holy shit someone get my tail a coat."
History/Bio:
Henry J. Olin was born in May, 1988.
When he was born, he was average weight, and had a full head of hair and looked like a little old man. He did nothing but scream and shit for three days after that.
And for a while, Henry was a normal boy. He attended normal school, was normal height, and looked like a normal half Japanese boy from a normal upper middle class Canadian family.
Then, when he turned twelve in 7th grade, puberty hit him like a freight train. Unlike most his awkward phase was extremely short. Also unlike most he turned into a huge ass lizard monster.
Yes you read that right.
Within the span of a week he had literally eaten all the food in the house, undergone excruciating pain, and became literally the most pissed off kid you will ever meet. Brooding teenagers have nothing on him. He quite literally nearly took his sister's hand off for trying to swipe away a spare meatball. If this was Oregon trail everyone's diets were set to bare bones for about eights for sheer survival purposes as he literally ate everything (bite makes on the dinner table for evidence). Henry's mother took him to the hospital, and to many forms of therapists and none of which had ever seen something like him before.
Henry was taken out of school, and as he regained control over himself and his body calmed down, he wasn't anywhere near what he was when the transformation began eight days before. Standing at a staggering 6'5 from his previous 4'11, and weighing in at a gaunt 210lbs, Henry was unhealthy, and overall sick, but still much larger and stronger than his own father (Who was about 5'10, 170lbs). His body was still suffering the effects of the chemical changes and metabolism shift from warm blooded to lukewarm. His awkward stage continued for another week or so as his body adapted, and gained weight. He ate as much as before, but he wasn't as violent in doing so. Eventually he calmed down over the next two weeks, being a solid 401 lbs. At the weight of 411, he was actually capable of passing urine and passed his first stool since he began the change two and a half weeks before. When school started up again he did online school, and when the 8th grade year ended, Henry was placed on NEST's list after displaying superhuman abilities in terms of feats of strength, speed, stamina, and intelligence. Henry began to become smarter and excelling at work even more so than what his already intelligent parents thought he ever would normally. At the age of eighteen he was classified as a level eight Meta human, and was contacted by NEST at the age of eighteen. When the time came, after many conversations with his family and with himself, Henry admitted himself into the training regime. He's seen some shit, and he's pretty damned hardened because of it. He would by lying if he said hadn't seen people explode, or kill others in fits of rage or fear. He's been in lot disasters too; he survived them and helped others push through it. He's experienced loss, but he's also experienced some of the most beautiful things the world has to offer.
He acts as one of the most powerful Enforcer’s of NEST’s civilian action and military operations (that most don’t see). The bite the backs up the bark. Henry is one of the best there is at what he does. He has been sent in for several investigations of Meta Human crime and has taken part in many missions that he can't tell you about without having to kill you. He is also one of the few and only animal Meta humans in NEST to have been determined safe enough to be taken out of the Box that also works for their organization.
Family:
Mi A. Olin - Mother
Noah R. Olin - Father
Samantha J. Olin- Older sister
Joy V. Olin - Younger sister
Relationships
Deborah | Good | Friend/Inspectee | "Deborah is smart, even without her power. With it she always seems to be able to predict when I’m coming. But she’s smart in a cooperative way. She’s never upset when I show up. She know’s it’s my job and that I have to do it. She helps me with what she can. I like that about her." |
Shannon | Neutral | Inspectee | "Shannon is nothing like Deborah. She has a stick planted firmly up her ass and rides a high horse as big as I am. She makes things hard for me. I’m tempted to just let Doug take the job for once and have her beg to bring me back.." |
Jago | Good | Inspectee/Detainee | "The kid’s got a lot of spunk. I respect that in him. He’s a fighter and stands up for what he believes and for others. His heart’s in the right place. On the flip side he’s broken a few minor laws in the past with petty theft and while I may like him it wont stop me from making him spend the night in a cell at the base." |
Sugar | Good | Inspectee | "I love Sugar. She’s such a sweet girl. I feel terrible for her that her legs is gone, and I feel terrible that she's scared of me. Her power is a bit of an enigma to us and I’ve seen never seen anything like it. She’s a good girl. I’m sure we’ll be able to help her out more fully soon." |
Newt | Good | Friend/Inspectee | "Newt’s a lot like me in terms of power. To a lesser degree of course, but we’re very alike. She and I can get along in that respect. She helps me out with the others more than anyone else. It’s nice to have someone other than Deborah backing me up when I need their help in calming everyone down." |
Jack | Good | Friend/Associate | "When you are working with someone like Jack, know your place. You're on their turf and they are the boss. Jack didn't like me at first, but as we worked together he warmed up to me because I treated him as a superior until he decided to treat me as an equal. He is my eyes and ears around the city. He watches out for those NEST doesn't know about, and in return he gets to stay off our radar. We both win our games. I'd go as far as to say he's my friend casually as well as professionally." |
Fredrick | Ballin' | Best Bro/Partner | "He's my number one fuckboi. 8/8 m8." |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Super System, 8
Power:
There is way too much to say about what exactly Henry can do.
Henry is a large, and very, very physically strong Meta human due to his sheer size. He is capable of potentially flipping a small car if he could get under one right, to give you an idea of his sheer physical value. While not armored like a crocodile, his skin is still fairly tough and leathery, more so than a humans at least, and his scales are very much like that of a sharks, almost like backwards facing teeth that reduce drag in the water and make his skin fairly rough or sharp when dragging your hand across it the wrong way. He is a very agile creature by nature. He is extremely flexible. He is able to bend and jump and move from place to pace at an incredible pace, his reptilian body being very good at navigating most areas with relative ease. His front limbs are longer than the average humans, allowing him to move on all fours with no discomfort, and his torso is slightly elongated, allowing him to almost prowl like a large cat. Coupled with a leg structure that is very different to the usual humans (with his ankle join extending out and giving him a second leg joint to work with) and his strength, he can effectively sprint at forty miles an hour. His legs are extremely strong and with the propulsion of his arms he can effectively lunge about twenty feet forward. His legs along allow him to jump surprisingly high for a creature his size and he will use this to his advantage. His senses are very well tuned and more power than any humans. He has a regenerative healing factor that allows him to regrow full limbs if they are lost, not just his tail, within a relatively short period of time. His body is long and lithe. His skull is long, his neck is long and flexible, his body and limbs would be called lanky if they weren’t so muscular, and his tail makes up easily half his length. This almost snake like body shape allows for fluid and elegant movement (if he times it right he can dodge a punch to the face by craning his neck) with relatively quick speed. His bones are also composed of thick cartilage, granting him an almost inhuman ability to bend and turn at odd angles without terrible amounts of discomfort. Thus giving him an even more flexible body.
Henry has most of the abilities of amphibians, lizards, snakes, and birds. A bacteria infested bite, claws, a nasty set of triple rowed teeth (some shark like, others more crocodilian), regenerative properties (able to regenerate limbs after a while), a very powerful form color change (Not invisibility, but close), and some other weird things thrown in there. It has been said that he potentially has the ability to shift to the female gender and then back to male, although this is largely unknown as nobody wants to go up to him and say "Hey, become a girl!" because he probably doesn't know how exactly to do that (and it's not like they know what he looks like besides hearing his voice). He also has the ability to breath in water through his skin like a frog, and... Well, in another way which he nor I want to discuss. You want to know how? Look up how Irwin's turtles do it. He also has an ability that opens up a whole new dynamic to his world, which is the ability to wall crawl. Employing a tactic much like Geckos, Henry’s hands are covered with tiny hook like hairs that allow him to latch on and hold onto nearly any surface. Because of how this system of crawling works, Henry is almost completely silent as he moves. Henry has an extremely powerful set of senses (hearing, sight, and smell, etc). Especially smell. He has two ways of smelling the air, which is through his nose and then through his tongue like a snake. Also like a snake, he has two pits right in front of his eyes that allow him to heatseek like a viper. Along his snout there are tiny pores that allow him to actually sense mild electrical pulses that come from muscle movement and the heart beating. His blood also has displayed a much lower pH than that of regular blood, making it un-survivable for most diseases, and will denature protein based compounds such as venom to the point where they function at a less potent effect, or simply do not function at all depending on the lethality. Speaking of venom, Henry has two large fangs like that of a rattlesnake’s that can spring out and are attached to the same muscles that allow him to retract his teeth. These fangs are not quite as thick as his crocodilian teeth, but are curved and about four inches in length, making them the largest teeth in his mouth. They fold back into the roof of his mouth most of the time. Because he is so large, the venom is relatively weak and acts more as a sedative over an actual Neurotoxins or Cytotoxin's. His jaws also have the ability to unhinge from his skull, and extend where his chin would be, allowing him to swallow things much larger than his skull whole if need be. Henry is a survivor. In times of trial and dire need for food and sustenance Henry has shown that he has ‘lukewarm blood’. His body temperature normally hovers around 76-81 F at any given time, as he is warm blooded. However, he can change his metabolism style to cold blooded, and can hibernate in this stage for a very long time, to the point where liver failure is the cause of death before he actually starves.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Henry is a very big creature. Big creatures eat a lot. Henry consumes about eight or nine pounds of food a day. To give you an idea of how much he eats, he will eat about three whole chickens every two days, ten in a week, about five hundred and twenty a year. That’s about 3,740~lbs, give or take, of food a year. The average American eats about 1,996lbs of food a year. He eats very close to twice as much as a human eats.
Because his blood is acidic, internal bleeding is a problem for him. The insides of his organs are resistant. The outsides? Not so much. While he can and has recovered from this, it is the best way to put him out of a fight. The reason behind this is because his blood can cause serious inflammation and swelling in the area of the wound. Because he is so big, Henry also has a hard time fitting into some spaces. This also works against him if he’s crawling on certain things. Most objects aren’t built to support things of his weight and he will break them. He has literally warped fire escapes in the past going down them from being on them, chairs collapse under his weight, you get the gist. His size makes him a larger target, and while he may be hard to hit, if you catch him by surprise you can hurt him. Blunt force weapons and bladed weapons (such as knives) are not very affective when dealing with him (a stab wound would seal within the hour, most likely). And flat out punching him, you’re more likely to hurt your hand over hurt him. A baseball bat is a better bet, but honestly, the best way to fight him is to literally come at him with a firearm or with something he has trouble flat-out absorbing, like fire or electricity, or anything that’s ranged. There is also the fact that he has hollow bones. While just as strong as a human’s, he has to be careful about throwing his body around all the time because he will break things. If he threw a punch and connected he would probably shatter his knuckles. Henry’s body also lacks stamina naturally. He, as a creature, is built for short bursts of movement instead of long distance speed. He is not built for chases, and most definitely not for distance running or a constant level of high activity over a long period of time. He might be able to sprint the 300-meter dash, but he’ll have trouble running the mile.
Because his senses are so powerful sensory overload can be a big problem for him. He literally cant handle large amounts of bright light and colors can cause him a lot of pain and confusion. Like, for him, without his exosuit, driving during the night or being near a busy street would probably render him in the fetal position with all the loud noises and bright lights from the car’s headlights.
If he goes into a hibernation like state to last as long as he does, he will most likely do nothing but breathe once and hour for a very long time. It is an emergency thing to do and it really isn’t good for his body to do it for long.
I’d also like to point out that Henry’s regenerative ability is NOT like that of Wolverine’s. It’s about twice as fast as a human’s. He will NOT bounce back from any wound unless it’s minor, much like a normal human. It can take him months to grow back a limb, and weeks to recover from various other injuries (The average stab wound recovery time is two to three weeks. Henry would recover in one to two weeks depending on where the injury is).
Other: He is the hero Black Fall deserves, but not the hero it needs (lol). His main method of transportation is an armored Mercedes G63 AMG 6x6 with bulletproof glass and all that. It’s probably the only car that he can fit in that can handle his weight and transport a lot of shit and others effectively. He loves it much.
Sample Post:
“So, I bet you’re wondering why we’ve called you here today.” The board head said.
There was silence in the room for a moment, and then Jacob West continued, pointing with a stick at a location marked on a map that was being displayed on an overhead. “There is-“
Henry piped in. “Meta human activity in that location that needs to be investigated?” he said. “Close.” Jacob replied. “The donuts are half off today. We need a brave volunteer to get up six hundred in total.” He said. “Any takers?” No one dared raise their hand to such a daring task… except for our hero, the great and noble Dragonfly. “I volunteer as tribute.” He stated proudly. The others looked to him, some smiling, some neutral with a look of respect. They looked up to him.
Well, they looked up to metaphorically as well as physically... You get the idea.
"Very good, Dragonfly," Jack said, walking over and giving him a list. "Here's the list of what we want."
It didn't take long for Henry to get into uniform. No exosuit, but enough gear to show he was a member of NEST. He walked outside, and got into his huge G63 6x6. It was a monster of a vehicle. And he was off, making 15 mpg as he drove. However when he arrived, he noticed his arch nemesis was attacking the store.
He stepped out of his car, and cleared his throat to catch the villain's attention.
"Dr. DoNuts," Henry started, a glare in his reptilian eyes. The insane donut with a cape turned around. "You cant defeat me this time, Fly!" He shouted. "The amount of donuts in this vicinity makes me all powerful!" He shouted, before raising his hands and sending a flurry of donuts flying in Henry's direction. Henry barely had any time to open his mouth before the first of many rocketing into his open maw. He choked for a second, before swallowing, and dove behind a car. Dr. DoNuts laughed maniacally. The giant donut of a man waited for a moment. "You can't hide forever, Dragonfly!" He shouted. Henry growled, but had an idea. Reaching down and digging his claws into the underside of the car he was behind, Henry grunted, but slowly lifted it onto it's side. He couldn't handle the maelstrom of donuts. No one man could. But Henry was smart. Henry could improvise.
Henry grit his teeth, and began pushing, creating a huge and heavy donut shield out of a car as the Doctor sent more weaponized pastries at him only for them to be blocked. When he was close, Dr. DoNuts attempted to bunker Henry, only to realized there was nothing there. "What is thi-" he began, only to shout in surprise as Henry rocketed at him from a place where there was previously nothing. He had camouflaged. He was fast, the doctor didn't react fast enough. He launched through the hole of the supervillain's torso. After landing with his unnatural grace, he pivoted on his heel to face the doctor. With the doctor's back to him, Henry used the opportunity to wrap his tail around the villain's leg, and with his immense strength, threw the villain through the window of the building. He hit the ground with a solid thud, but wasn't out.
"Impossible!" Dr. DoNuts breathed. "I had all this power..." He finished, just before Henry loomed over him and sink his large fangs into the doctor's arm, sedating him within a few minutes. Henry looked around at the wreckage left behind, then back down at the doctor's unconscious body.
"You know the rules Doctor," Henry began, training off for a second to put on his sunglasses. "Donut go breakin' the law."
Henry then proceeded to tie up the super villain and throw him in the back of his G63, only to walk back in and order his list of donuts. Because he saved so many lives, he was gifted them, free of charge.
Then he drove off into the sunset back to the NEST base, to make his branch head very happy with donuts and a rogue Meta human.
Such was a day in the life of Captain Henry J. Olin.
Leonerdo Spoopy Scary
Member
Seen
10 yrs ago
Name: Damon Vicous
Nickname/Alias/Etc: “Lieo”
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Height: 6’0”
Weight: 109 lbs, but 178 when he’s… full.
Home District: None; he’s from outta town.
Appearance
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Amber
Ethnicity: Canadian; he’s really got German and French in him though, with some Czechoslovakian.
Physical Appearance: He has a somewhat slouched posture during relaxed, casual occasions, but can stand up straight with shoulders broad at 6'0” when the situation calls for formality. The man’s build is average; he isn’t athletic and he doesn’t have chiseled abs – but living on the run has kept him somewhat active so what body fat he has isn’t in excessive amounts. Damon’s complexion is rather poor, what with the occasional blemish or inflammation caused by irritation of the skin and the occasional blotches of scar tissue. It contrasts with his dark brown (nearly black) short cropped hair with a subtle widow's peak. One thing that an observant person would notice about him is that his fair skin usually doesn't show. His hands are usually tucked in his pockets, his neck is wrapped in a white bandana with black design, so all you can really see of him-him is his face, which is free of holes, and his hands; and maybe the top of the back of his neck.
His face, which, if he was working, would appear stern and his brows creased in concentration and forethought. Or in some cases he could be smiling, which shows off the dimples in his cheeks. Most often though, if you were to find him on the streets, he would look wary. Almost jumpy, even. Just by looking at him you can tell he isn’t a murderer or a crook though. More like a man with a terrible secret, a burden that weighs him down with every step he makes. He gives the impression that he is at peace with what he does, but this appearance of peace also comes with the appearance as though he's enjoying a guilty pleasure. He doesn't seem one hundred percent comfortable in his own skin or with his method of getting by no matter how hard he tries to convince someone. Even in his white smiles, there’s something lost and sad about it. Like the smile doesn’t reflect in his eyes. If one’s senses were acute enough, you could barely make out the odd aroma of honey near him.
Attire: He has a worn down, brown leather jacket that appears to be riddled with holes, and beneath that is a simple white t-shirt, also appearing to have many holes in it. In fact, almost every piece of his clothing appears to have holes in it, even the stolen black designer jeans. The only exception there seems to be are these rough looking brown leather boots, steel toed. He also seems to have a white bandana with black print that’s tied loosely around his neck. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t appear to be there for any purpose other than just being there. It could be for style, comfort, or act as a shield against encroaching eyes.
Personality
Personality: Generally analytical and serious in his workplace, he is oblivious to the world around him, nothing but pure concentration channeling into whatever he is doing. His intellect practically radiating off of him as his fingers blindingly zip around the keyboard of his computer. In this train of thought, he has an air of authority that he could never achieve on his own conscience. Almost as an alter-ego of his real self, while he's around company, he comes off as a kind and gentle man, somewhat meek and reserved, which contrasts with the way he dresses. If young people are in danger, kids even, he'll do what he can to help without ceasing. He becomes slightly more hesitant however if there's actually someone or something threatening them. He has a soft spot for the outcasts or those stricken by poverty after having lived the experience when he was younger - and even now. He can be talkative among those he likes and is liberal in his values and beliefs.
Damon is in fact introverted, rather having to sit back whilst in a group or in the company of peers, which are few in between. However, he hides this with the mask of a positive disposition. He lacks a kind of assertiveness while in casual interactions and has one or maybe two friends (if he’s lucky) that he can feel comfortable around. He feels haunted by his past and he isn't proud of what he does to earn money, but he doesn't regret his actions - what he regrets is the accidents that have occurred that led to him being hunted down in the first place. As a result, he is also afraid of getting close to people or getting into dangerous situations that he cannot control. It's out of fear of harming someone again and losing himself in the process.
He’s very much restrained and has an absolute loathing for his “power”. After all, it is what ruined his life from the beginning and still continues to do so. He feels invaded, violated, his power and control being stripped away from him to the benefit and hosting of others, of aliens and strangers - demons. As such, he is very against using it even if it is to his own advantage. In fact, there exists even a fear for the swarm inside of him and a fear of losing control, lest that swarm domineers him. He has also seen what his power can do, and he has no desire to inflict that kind of gruesome fate onto any mortal man, woman, or child.
His intelligence is an outstanding factor. What he lacks in physical aptitude, he makes up for being a tech wiz. He even made his own computer and rigged a mobile wifi hotspot, which allows him to cruise the internet as fast as a roadrunner. While on the run, he has gotten by only because of a side job that he had (along with stealing occasionally). He is capable of hacking into computers and software, creating and deleting Trojans and even spikes, as well as USBs and data chips to give to people. Technically, this is illegal. Despite what the upstanding citizen may think of him, he does have a great deal of morals and he does his best to abide by them. He has managed to go this many years without harming someone again, after all.
Among all the deals he made with people who you could easily assume to be part of the Kennedy shooting if you didn’t already know that it would’ve been too many years ago for that to be a feasible possibility, he is very familiar with sketchy people. He has the basic gist of how they operate and how they intend on extorting him or bargain with him. As such, Damon has develop a sort of social savvy - in the sense that he cannot be easily bargained with or persuaded. Not that you’d know it, of course. These sorts of people don’t like being said “no” to. So Damon works out a social nuance in which he can appease his “associates” without actually letting them in on anything. He doesn’t directly say no, or refuse, or disagree. He feigns an interest and bargains on his own terms with the illusion of a compromise that is more heavily suited towards the other guy. Of course, these deals work in Damon’s favor and original plan in the end. He doesn’t dish out special favors for strict business customers.
Hobbies/Interests: He hasn't had a lot of time in his youth to explore his hobbies, though he has come to enjoy working with computers. He has also come to appreciate a great invention called coffee and enjoys the age old tradition of laying on a couch and watching movies. He usually just enjoys all of the little things in life due to not being able to do so before.
Skills/Talents: Programming, networking, hacking, updating, developing, repairing - he can do wonders with computers and has a natural inclination to understand them, though most of it was learned from practical tinkering. He has no college education that taught him how to do what he does. He, while not typically an outstanding speaker or even a social individual, his livelihood kind of depended on getting through on his transactions on his own terms. He’s not a superb fighter. Not while he’s sober.
Prized Possession: That laptop that looks like a piece of junk? Yeah. He made that. It’s a fucking brick. And worth more than you are. Any idea how expensive the parts he had to steal were? It’s the Frankenstein of high-quality ingredients and runs like an angel.
Quote(s): “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? Yeah, I know it pretty well. It’s a tragic story.”
History/Bio: Well, he was brought up in Canada until he was five, and then they moved to Chicago where he stayed until he was fifteen. That is when the bees started to follow him everywhere and burrow in his skin and turn him into a freak show. He was then a homeless, disowned child hiding back in the alleys where people (namely other kids) would throws rocks at him. When he moved into old or abandoned buildings, it was a matter of time until a cop found him and sprayed him with pepper spray. He has never had it easy, honestly. Damon's luck ran so dry he was even once forced to be on the run from law enforcement because of: a. his mutant status, and b. a run in he had a long time ago when he was 19, just a year ago. An accident occurred then that involved the maiming and death of a man that had jumped him in a back alley. Damon snapped, and the screaming that came afterward prompted an emergency call from a bystander. Which is the one memory that still haunts him to this day.
When he was younger though, he was already pretty damn good with technology. When he was orphaned, he happened across a sociologist trying to emulate the Indian Hole in the Wall study, and there were computers outside the building. He would, at night, sneak out when no other kids or other homeless people were around and study the computers carefully. Over time, he got better; and he liked it. It brought some hope to his bleak world, and after years went by, he learned how to bypass most of the systems and firewalls. He learned the shortcuts and how to upgrade its capabilities. By the time he started getting chased, he had accumulated enough knowledge to steal a fancy computer from a store and a wifi router and upgrade them himself when he found time to obtain the parts. He hacked sites and made trojans and spikes for people in exchange for payment for years. He’s still running even now, and ended up in Black Fall. He’s a bit lost at the moment, trying to find his way up to Canada again, but ended up going around the Great Lakes.
Family: Damon’s been disowned.
Relationships
[Character name] | [Impression (Good/Bad/Neutral]] | [Relationship (Friend, Rival, Crush, etc)] | [Character's thoughts [EX: I think Bob is quite the amiable fellow, has a great head on his shoulders, wouldn't want anyone else on my side]] |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Super System & Cerebral
Power: Damon is a living hive. Africanized bees infest his body, unbeknownst to the people around him. Inside of him are what could be hundreds upon thousands of bees, and they’re even crawling about in his clothes, which are the cause of the holes his clothes that he has tried desperately to replace, but new holes keep being torn open to allow easy access. He has since given up. It’s also the reason why he wears so much clothing in the first place to cover his skin. Littered upon his body are holes. It’s like an underground system, from within his abdomen, his legs, his back, his arms, and even in the palms of his hands. The bees, since their initial occupancy, have ravaged much of the internal organs of Damon’s body to point of non-functionality. What remains is most of his circulatory and digestive systems (which damaged much of his nervous system), and his head remains free of infestation. His reproduction system (due to the bees inhabiting most of the abdomen) has been damaged to the point that any actual reproduction would be impossible.
How could such a man survive? A very nuanced power seems to be very particular in how it affected him. He doesn’t have many requirements for survival and most of what he does is done out of habit. As it turns out, as long as he has a mind and that his brain is intact, Damon will live. Even without a body, he can survive on as a mere conscience exacting what will that it can. Damon isn’t fully aware of this, just that he can go on without eating or drinking for a long time. And while someone trying to choke him to death is painful and agonizing, it doesn’t really shut him down. All of his nerves are still active and he can still feel, so he is just as receptive to pain.
Damon has, to the slightest extent, extrasensory or telepathic abilities that allow him control over the insects that dwells within his body. The bees follow every one of his demands like a mindless robots, like pawns on a chessboard. He also releases a specific pheromone that appeals to bees in the surrounding vicinity and lures them to him, and it also negates the pheromone that the queen bee has that keeps other female bees from reproducing. So, if allowed, he could be surrounded by a colossal mass of writhing bugs with pointy stingers. Minor communication is possibly, but it is mostly an exchange of information. He can send a drone ahead and learn about what is around the corner. Having a massive swarm at his disposal, he can possess an omnipresence in the city. He could theoretically see everything as long as he has a set of eyes there. Try as you might, if you make an enemy out of Damon, you will be hard pressed to escape him (unless you swat the bee - in that case, they can’t report to the hive… but dead bees do give off a particular pheromone that alerts the others of danger, attracting more).
Since he is full of bees, he can adopt certain properties of them. Insects have a natural strength in comparison to size, so he could be a little stronger. He could command them to hoist him into the air and allow him to fly - his body has been hollowed out and is very light. If he wanted to, and I doubt he does, he could shoot a stream of bees at the landing skids of a helicopter and send it crashing into the ground (reference). So, depending on the situation, he is capable of being a badass. Obviously, this ability is a mixed bag.
He also has very minor regenerative abilities. Honey is a natural anti-oxidant and, naturally, them bees are gonna need a place to store it. While Damon isn’t full of it, some honey does line his insides… though mingled with it is blood and flesh, so don’t eat that.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: A big down side is that his body and mind is deteriorating. Body is obvious, with those holes in his body and all. They got into his body by literally eating him. They ate holes into his body and carved out a hive. It was incredibly excruciating - torture, even. If he survives long enough, his whole body will deteriorate and he will be dead for good (only when the last of his brain is eaten up, however). The bees, at a certain point, planted themselves along the central nervous system and at the very edge of the brain stem, and the pheromones affected him in such a way that the damage the bees do no longer harms him. Think really hard about what that might turn into. Although he practically has complete control, there are some “incidents”, so to speak, that can occur.
A great deal of stress, anger or endangerment to his life can cause him to crack and make him go batshit crazy for a minute or so. This is his Mr Hyde: a persona created by the manifestation of the hive self-named “Lieo”. Lieo is a hive-mind and is utterly ruthless and with no inhibitions holding them back - an abominable bastard that will hunt you down with Terminator-style pursuit predation, assuming you manage to escape his clutches. Lieo is essentially the entire swarm and hive itself working through Damon’s body, but could also simply be Damon with the mind of a swarm, that he is “one of them”. It’s a curious state that warrants attention, but is a very real danger to anyone around him. Even Damon. The lack of inhibitions causes damage to the body if he were to exert too much, and Damon will feel it afterward. In addition, using the power itself - controlling the bees - puts him on the fine line of sanity and breaking into Lieo’s persona. To control the hive, he has to put himself on the same level of communication by inserting his will and thoughts via a mild form of telepathy. This, if put off balance, can tip him over the edge and can cause the swarm to dominate his mind.
Any means of telepathy or mind reading against im also upsets the bees in the body which generates stress on Damon as well. So psychic powers can make him crack as well. Although this protects him from mind reading and telepathy to some extent, it is an uncomfortable experience that everyone would wish to avoid. Further, these are just bees. Fire and pesticides are his bane, or at least to the hive residing in him. However, Damon does have a record of being conniving (enoughly so that he can get away with a lot of crimes to survive), so these aren’t sure-fire ways to get rid of him. You’d still have to chase him down. Given the number of alleys and rooms he’s familiar with, he can be capable of ambushing you or, with the swarm, swarming you in a moment’s notice without any warning. And of course, a bullet to the head. That’ll stop most things in their tracks. There’s also the matter of his personality restraining him from using this ability to his full advantage - and in doing so, also accelerates his degeneration.
Lastly, his ability to command the swarm is limited. The code to protect and protect, and live within the security of the hive is hard-wired into each and every member of the swarm’s brain like a robot. It is a failsafe system that ensures the hive’s safety and the safety of the swarm. To this extent, Damon cannot just send the swarm and keep them away from him forever. Such commands they were carry out only to a certain extent before they are ignored. Even if it was something these mindless drones were capable of carrying out, the matter of Damon’s pheromones still exists, and therefore they will always return to the safety of the hive. Damon’s life is essentially on count-down.
Other:
Sample Post:
Twenty years in the future...
So why do I bother with such frivolities? Where does my concern with the rest of humanity lie? Does my love, my care for my brothers and sisters here intercept my loyalty to which my true mortal soul belongs? I am here in a rundown building in the middle of the outskirts of town… hiding. Protecting. Protecting my family… progressing my own personal demise…. They need to eat soon. They are getting hungry. They are scratching at the shell of my skull, my headache pulsating throughout my being. You’d think I’d be suffering…
BUT NAY! I AM THE HIVE. MY MIND, MY WILL PROTECTS EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU. I PROMISE YOU THAT NONE OF YOU WILL EVER BE HURT. I’LL FEED YOU, I’LL HOUSE YOU, I AM THE NOURISHMENT, I AM THE HIVE.
But, oh, here I am in this rundown building… the house is rotting… the smell of demolition is drawing near. The citizens fear us, my loves. My children. They fear you. Oh, but how can they? With your adorable wings and itsy, bitsy mandibles. Your stings exemplifies your will to live; your buzz echoes the purity of life! But the “civilized society”… they are not so civilized, are they? They are not so pure… you wish your voice to be heard, don’t you? Mine too. Oh, but I am so shy, so timid... they mock me; they fear me for my presence is none. You give me my form, I am grateful for your generosity, my lovelies.
YOU ALL ARE THE FLOWER OF MY LIFE. YOU ARE THE NECTAR FROM WHICH I DRINK TO FUEL MY LIFE - MY VITAL ESSENCE - YOU ARE THE REASON FOR MY BEING. AS YOU DRINK FROM A FLOWER I DRINK FROM YOUR LOVE. WE ARE ONE, I AM THE HIVE.
...But I promise you all so very soon. My name is Damon, you know this. Black Fall does not though. They will hear my name, they will hear my voice, and they will hear yours too. If they don’t listen to reason, then why bother? Their flesh will be your meal, their bones will be your nests; all after their hearts bursts and the rot and puss takes over the burning of their tissue... human bodies are so fragile. The other metas will fear you - fear us! Fear no fire nor poison, for we are strong. We are a hive, the hive.
MY HEADACHE, MY HEADACHE! IT BURNS. WHY DO YOU TORTURE ME SO, MY DEARESTS? I PROMISE YOU SOON, BLACK FALL WILL BURN IN YOUR TOXINS, YOUR MANDIBLES TAKING THEM APART BITE BY BITE. BUT ALL OF YOU WILL BURN BY. BURN, BURN, YOU WILL ALL BURN AND DIE AND—
Oh, but I’m so, so sorry, my lovelies! It will never happen again, I promise! I apologize for my outburst. I do not mean it. I am not what I used to be... it feels as if my mind is eroded. But I promise, once all of you are fed, things will be better. For all of us… it will happen tonight, when we are rested and the people are weak. I do this because I think of you, as you are my meaning. My life. Oh, my brothers and sisters of the hive, I do so very much love you… each and every one of you.
The time will come soon enough.
My dearests.
Nickname/Alias/Etc: “Lieo”
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Height: 6’0”
Weight: 109 lbs, but 178 when he’s… full.
Home District: None; he’s from outta town.
Appearance
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Amber
Ethnicity: Canadian; he’s really got German and French in him though, with some Czechoslovakian.
Physical Appearance: He has a somewhat slouched posture during relaxed, casual occasions, but can stand up straight with shoulders broad at 6'0” when the situation calls for formality. The man’s build is average; he isn’t athletic and he doesn’t have chiseled abs – but living on the run has kept him somewhat active so what body fat he has isn’t in excessive amounts. Damon’s complexion is rather poor, what with the occasional blemish or inflammation caused by irritation of the skin and the occasional blotches of scar tissue. It contrasts with his dark brown (nearly black) short cropped hair with a subtle widow's peak. One thing that an observant person would notice about him is that his fair skin usually doesn't show. His hands are usually tucked in his pockets, his neck is wrapped in a white bandana with black design, so all you can really see of him-him is his face, which is free of holes, and his hands; and maybe the top of the back of his neck.
His face, which, if he was working, would appear stern and his brows creased in concentration and forethought. Or in some cases he could be smiling, which shows off the dimples in his cheeks. Most often though, if you were to find him on the streets, he would look wary. Almost jumpy, even. Just by looking at him you can tell he isn’t a murderer or a crook though. More like a man with a terrible secret, a burden that weighs him down with every step he makes. He gives the impression that he is at peace with what he does, but this appearance of peace also comes with the appearance as though he's enjoying a guilty pleasure. He doesn't seem one hundred percent comfortable in his own skin or with his method of getting by no matter how hard he tries to convince someone. Even in his white smiles, there’s something lost and sad about it. Like the smile doesn’t reflect in his eyes. If one’s senses were acute enough, you could barely make out the odd aroma of honey near him.
Attire: He has a worn down, brown leather jacket that appears to be riddled with holes, and beneath that is a simple white t-shirt, also appearing to have many holes in it. In fact, almost every piece of his clothing appears to have holes in it, even the stolen black designer jeans. The only exception there seems to be are these rough looking brown leather boots, steel toed. He also seems to have a white bandana with black print that’s tied loosely around his neck. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t appear to be there for any purpose other than just being there. It could be for style, comfort, or act as a shield against encroaching eyes.
Personality
Personality: Generally analytical and serious in his workplace, he is oblivious to the world around him, nothing but pure concentration channeling into whatever he is doing. His intellect practically radiating off of him as his fingers blindingly zip around the keyboard of his computer. In this train of thought, he has an air of authority that he could never achieve on his own conscience. Almost as an alter-ego of his real self, while he's around company, he comes off as a kind and gentle man, somewhat meek and reserved, which contrasts with the way he dresses. If young people are in danger, kids even, he'll do what he can to help without ceasing. He becomes slightly more hesitant however if there's actually someone or something threatening them. He has a soft spot for the outcasts or those stricken by poverty after having lived the experience when he was younger - and even now. He can be talkative among those he likes and is liberal in his values and beliefs.
Damon is in fact introverted, rather having to sit back whilst in a group or in the company of peers, which are few in between. However, he hides this with the mask of a positive disposition. He lacks a kind of assertiveness while in casual interactions and has one or maybe two friends (if he’s lucky) that he can feel comfortable around. He feels haunted by his past and he isn't proud of what he does to earn money, but he doesn't regret his actions - what he regrets is the accidents that have occurred that led to him being hunted down in the first place. As a result, he is also afraid of getting close to people or getting into dangerous situations that he cannot control. It's out of fear of harming someone again and losing himself in the process.
He’s very much restrained and has an absolute loathing for his “power”. After all, it is what ruined his life from the beginning and still continues to do so. He feels invaded, violated, his power and control being stripped away from him to the benefit and hosting of others, of aliens and strangers - demons. As such, he is very against using it even if it is to his own advantage. In fact, there exists even a fear for the swarm inside of him and a fear of losing control, lest that swarm domineers him. He has also seen what his power can do, and he has no desire to inflict that kind of gruesome fate onto any mortal man, woman, or child.
His intelligence is an outstanding factor. What he lacks in physical aptitude, he makes up for being a tech wiz. He even made his own computer and rigged a mobile wifi hotspot, which allows him to cruise the internet as fast as a roadrunner. While on the run, he has gotten by only because of a side job that he had (along with stealing occasionally). He is capable of hacking into computers and software, creating and deleting Trojans and even spikes, as well as USBs and data chips to give to people. Technically, this is illegal. Despite what the upstanding citizen may think of him, he does have a great deal of morals and he does his best to abide by them. He has managed to go this many years without harming someone again, after all.
Among all the deals he made with people who you could easily assume to be part of the Kennedy shooting if you didn’t already know that it would’ve been too many years ago for that to be a feasible possibility, he is very familiar with sketchy people. He has the basic gist of how they operate and how they intend on extorting him or bargain with him. As such, Damon has develop a sort of social savvy - in the sense that he cannot be easily bargained with or persuaded. Not that you’d know it, of course. These sorts of people don’t like being said “no” to. So Damon works out a social nuance in which he can appease his “associates” without actually letting them in on anything. He doesn’t directly say no, or refuse, or disagree. He feigns an interest and bargains on his own terms with the illusion of a compromise that is more heavily suited towards the other guy. Of course, these deals work in Damon’s favor and original plan in the end. He doesn’t dish out special favors for strict business customers.
Hobbies/Interests: He hasn't had a lot of time in his youth to explore his hobbies, though he has come to enjoy working with computers. He has also come to appreciate a great invention called coffee and enjoys the age old tradition of laying on a couch and watching movies. He usually just enjoys all of the little things in life due to not being able to do so before.
Skills/Talents: Programming, networking, hacking, updating, developing, repairing - he can do wonders with computers and has a natural inclination to understand them, though most of it was learned from practical tinkering. He has no college education that taught him how to do what he does. He, while not typically an outstanding speaker or even a social individual, his livelihood kind of depended on getting through on his transactions on his own terms. He’s not a superb fighter. Not while he’s sober.
Prized Possession: That laptop that looks like a piece of junk? Yeah. He made that. It’s a fucking brick. And worth more than you are. Any idea how expensive the parts he had to steal were? It’s the Frankenstein of high-quality ingredients and runs like an angel.
Quote(s): “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? Yeah, I know it pretty well. It’s a tragic story.”
History/Bio: Well, he was brought up in Canada until he was five, and then they moved to Chicago where he stayed until he was fifteen. That is when the bees started to follow him everywhere and burrow in his skin and turn him into a freak show. He was then a homeless, disowned child hiding back in the alleys where people (namely other kids) would throws rocks at him. When he moved into old or abandoned buildings, it was a matter of time until a cop found him and sprayed him with pepper spray. He has never had it easy, honestly. Damon's luck ran so dry he was even once forced to be on the run from law enforcement because of: a. his mutant status, and b. a run in he had a long time ago when he was 19, just a year ago. An accident occurred then that involved the maiming and death of a man that had jumped him in a back alley. Damon snapped, and the screaming that came afterward prompted an emergency call from a bystander. Which is the one memory that still haunts him to this day.
When he was younger though, he was already pretty damn good with technology. When he was orphaned, he happened across a sociologist trying to emulate the Indian Hole in the Wall study, and there were computers outside the building. He would, at night, sneak out when no other kids or other homeless people were around and study the computers carefully. Over time, he got better; and he liked it. It brought some hope to his bleak world, and after years went by, he learned how to bypass most of the systems and firewalls. He learned the shortcuts and how to upgrade its capabilities. By the time he started getting chased, he had accumulated enough knowledge to steal a fancy computer from a store and a wifi router and upgrade them himself when he found time to obtain the parts. He hacked sites and made trojans and spikes for people in exchange for payment for years. He’s still running even now, and ended up in Black Fall. He’s a bit lost at the moment, trying to find his way up to Canada again, but ended up going around the Great Lakes.
Family: Damon’s been disowned.
Relationships
[Character name] | [Impression (Good/Bad/Neutral]] | [Relationship (Friend, Rival, Crush, etc)] | [Character's thoughts [EX: I think Bob is quite the amiable fellow, has a great head on his shoulders, wouldn't want anyone else on my side]] |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Super System & Cerebral
Power: Damon is a living hive. Africanized bees infest his body, unbeknownst to the people around him. Inside of him are what could be hundreds upon thousands of bees, and they’re even crawling about in his clothes, which are the cause of the holes his clothes that he has tried desperately to replace, but new holes keep being torn open to allow easy access. He has since given up. It’s also the reason why he wears so much clothing in the first place to cover his skin. Littered upon his body are holes. It’s like an underground system, from within his abdomen, his legs, his back, his arms, and even in the palms of his hands. The bees, since their initial occupancy, have ravaged much of the internal organs of Damon’s body to point of non-functionality. What remains is most of his circulatory and digestive systems (which damaged much of his nervous system), and his head remains free of infestation. His reproduction system (due to the bees inhabiting most of the abdomen) has been damaged to the point that any actual reproduction would be impossible.
How could such a man survive? A very nuanced power seems to be very particular in how it affected him. He doesn’t have many requirements for survival and most of what he does is done out of habit. As it turns out, as long as he has a mind and that his brain is intact, Damon will live. Even without a body, he can survive on as a mere conscience exacting what will that it can. Damon isn’t fully aware of this, just that he can go on without eating or drinking for a long time. And while someone trying to choke him to death is painful and agonizing, it doesn’t really shut him down. All of his nerves are still active and he can still feel, so he is just as receptive to pain.
Damon has, to the slightest extent, extrasensory or telepathic abilities that allow him control over the insects that dwells within his body. The bees follow every one of his demands like a mindless robots, like pawns on a chessboard. He also releases a specific pheromone that appeals to bees in the surrounding vicinity and lures them to him, and it also negates the pheromone that the queen bee has that keeps other female bees from reproducing. So, if allowed, he could be surrounded by a colossal mass of writhing bugs with pointy stingers. Minor communication is possibly, but it is mostly an exchange of information. He can send a drone ahead and learn about what is around the corner. Having a massive swarm at his disposal, he can possess an omnipresence in the city. He could theoretically see everything as long as he has a set of eyes there. Try as you might, if you make an enemy out of Damon, you will be hard pressed to escape him (unless you swat the bee - in that case, they can’t report to the hive… but dead bees do give off a particular pheromone that alerts the others of danger, attracting more).
Since he is full of bees, he can adopt certain properties of them. Insects have a natural strength in comparison to size, so he could be a little stronger. He could command them to hoist him into the air and allow him to fly - his body has been hollowed out and is very light. If he wanted to, and I doubt he does, he could shoot a stream of bees at the landing skids of a helicopter and send it crashing into the ground (reference). So, depending on the situation, he is capable of being a badass. Obviously, this ability is a mixed bag.
He also has very minor regenerative abilities. Honey is a natural anti-oxidant and, naturally, them bees are gonna need a place to store it. While Damon isn’t full of it, some honey does line his insides… though mingled with it is blood and flesh, so don’t eat that.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: A big down side is that his body and mind is deteriorating. Body is obvious, with those holes in his body and all. They got into his body by literally eating him. They ate holes into his body and carved out a hive. It was incredibly excruciating - torture, even. If he survives long enough, his whole body will deteriorate and he will be dead for good (only when the last of his brain is eaten up, however). The bees, at a certain point, planted themselves along the central nervous system and at the very edge of the brain stem, and the pheromones affected him in such a way that the damage the bees do no longer harms him. Think really hard about what that might turn into. Although he practically has complete control, there are some “incidents”, so to speak, that can occur.
A great deal of stress, anger or endangerment to his life can cause him to crack and make him go batshit crazy for a minute or so. This is his Mr Hyde: a persona created by the manifestation of the hive self-named “Lieo”. Lieo is a hive-mind and is utterly ruthless and with no inhibitions holding them back - an abominable bastard that will hunt you down with Terminator-style pursuit predation, assuming you manage to escape his clutches. Lieo is essentially the entire swarm and hive itself working through Damon’s body, but could also simply be Damon with the mind of a swarm, that he is “one of them”. It’s a curious state that warrants attention, but is a very real danger to anyone around him. Even Damon. The lack of inhibitions causes damage to the body if he were to exert too much, and Damon will feel it afterward. In addition, using the power itself - controlling the bees - puts him on the fine line of sanity and breaking into Lieo’s persona. To control the hive, he has to put himself on the same level of communication by inserting his will and thoughts via a mild form of telepathy. This, if put off balance, can tip him over the edge and can cause the swarm to dominate his mind.
Any means of telepathy or mind reading against im also upsets the bees in the body which generates stress on Damon as well. So psychic powers can make him crack as well. Although this protects him from mind reading and telepathy to some extent, it is an uncomfortable experience that everyone would wish to avoid. Further, these are just bees. Fire and pesticides are his bane, or at least to the hive residing in him. However, Damon does have a record of being conniving (enoughly so that he can get away with a lot of crimes to survive), so these aren’t sure-fire ways to get rid of him. You’d still have to chase him down. Given the number of alleys and rooms he’s familiar with, he can be capable of ambushing you or, with the swarm, swarming you in a moment’s notice without any warning. And of course, a bullet to the head. That’ll stop most things in their tracks. There’s also the matter of his personality restraining him from using this ability to his full advantage - and in doing so, also accelerates his degeneration.
Lastly, his ability to command the swarm is limited. The code to protect and protect, and live within the security of the hive is hard-wired into each and every member of the swarm’s brain like a robot. It is a failsafe system that ensures the hive’s safety and the safety of the swarm. To this extent, Damon cannot just send the swarm and keep them away from him forever. Such commands they were carry out only to a certain extent before they are ignored. Even if it was something these mindless drones were capable of carrying out, the matter of Damon’s pheromones still exists, and therefore they will always return to the safety of the hive. Damon’s life is essentially on count-down.
Other:
Sample Post:
Twenty years in the future...
So why do I bother with such frivolities? Where does my concern with the rest of humanity lie? Does my love, my care for my brothers and sisters here intercept my loyalty to which my true mortal soul belongs? I am here in a rundown building in the middle of the outskirts of town… hiding. Protecting. Protecting my family… progressing my own personal demise…. They need to eat soon. They are getting hungry. They are scratching at the shell of my skull, my headache pulsating throughout my being. You’d think I’d be suffering…
BUT NAY! I AM THE HIVE. MY MIND, MY WILL PROTECTS EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU. I PROMISE YOU THAT NONE OF YOU WILL EVER BE HURT. I’LL FEED YOU, I’LL HOUSE YOU, I AM THE NOURISHMENT, I AM THE HIVE.
But, oh, here I am in this rundown building… the house is rotting… the smell of demolition is drawing near. The citizens fear us, my loves. My children. They fear you. Oh, but how can they? With your adorable wings and itsy, bitsy mandibles. Your stings exemplifies your will to live; your buzz echoes the purity of life! But the “civilized society”… they are not so civilized, are they? They are not so pure… you wish your voice to be heard, don’t you? Mine too. Oh, but I am so shy, so timid... they mock me; they fear me for my presence is none. You give me my form, I am grateful for your generosity, my lovelies.
YOU ALL ARE THE FLOWER OF MY LIFE. YOU ARE THE NECTAR FROM WHICH I DRINK TO FUEL MY LIFE - MY VITAL ESSENCE - YOU ARE THE REASON FOR MY BEING. AS YOU DRINK FROM A FLOWER I DRINK FROM YOUR LOVE. WE ARE ONE, I AM THE HIVE.
...But I promise you all so very soon. My name is Damon, you know this. Black Fall does not though. They will hear my name, they will hear my voice, and they will hear yours too. If they don’t listen to reason, then why bother? Their flesh will be your meal, their bones will be your nests; all after their hearts bursts and the rot and puss takes over the burning of their tissue... human bodies are so fragile. The other metas will fear you - fear us! Fear no fire nor poison, for we are strong. We are a hive, the hive.
MY HEADACHE, MY HEADACHE! IT BURNS. WHY DO YOU TORTURE ME SO, MY DEARESTS? I PROMISE YOU SOON, BLACK FALL WILL BURN IN YOUR TOXINS, YOUR MANDIBLES TAKING THEM APART BITE BY BITE. BUT ALL OF YOU WILL BURN BY. BURN, BURN, YOU WILL ALL BURN AND DIE AND—
Oh, but I’m so, so sorry, my lovelies! It will never happen again, I promise! I apologize for my outburst. I do not mean it. I am not what I used to be... it feels as if my mind is eroded. But I promise, once all of you are fed, things will be better. For all of us… it will happen tonight, when we are rested and the people are weak. I do this because I think of you, as you are my meaning. My life. Oh, my brothers and sisters of the hive, I do so very much love you… each and every one of you.
The time will come soon enough.
My dearests.
Leonerdo Spoopy Scary
Member
Seen
10 yrs ago
Name: Baron Moreau
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Barry, Zombie, etc.
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Height: 6'3”
Weight: 154 lbs
Faction: Neutral
Appearance
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Green
Ethnicity: Canadian; has English and French blood.
Physical Appearance/Attire: Barry looks rather unorthodox among his mercenary crowd, appearing more of an aristocrat than anything else. He is tall and slender, specifically standing at 6'3", and weighs in at 154 lbs. This said, he isn't the strongest fighter and his body is fairly skinny and not as muscular as much of his other... “associates”, although he does abide by the standard requirement of fitness in his organization that is befitting of him, though this is usually in the form of physical therapy (he has a strong, mechanical brace reinforcing his left leg). His skin is fairly pale and unblemished by anything other than the scars littered over his body. On his back, torso, legs, and so on - the damage on his left leg in particular being rather severe and is bestrewn with scar tissue. His pale skin is in dramatic contrast with his black hair, which comes down at a widow's peak, and is neatly swept backwards with a comb and then kept in place a small dab of hair gel. If he were to go out on a tactical mission, he would appear almost as though he were going out on a date, but forgot his dress coat. He has piercing green eyes that are, at just the right angle, appearing somewhat hollow, if words were to do any justice. It is as if he stared into hell and hell stared back, but even then, they appear no less brilliant, cunning, deceptive, or even deadly. Thick lashes and sharp eyebrows simply sharpen his piercing gaze. His true expressions always seem somewhat hidden, as though his face were hidden by a million and one masks, each with their own different story. Even his walk, it seems, where his apparent full-of-himself strut appears to be well-disguised pacing. This brings along with him an air of mystery. Given his pampered features and esoteric air, along with a charming and clever disposition, he's quite the heart-breaker. His hands are covered in calluses and his fingers usually look a little cut up, but is generally well taken care of.
If he had a choice in his uniform, he'd be dressed nicely and perhaps come in a nice suit with a boutonnière. However, glamour and sophistication has no place in his line of work or among suburbs (unless the objective specifically calls for good appearances). He often visits areas in South America, so the humidity doesn't help much to bolster his preferred fashion. Lacking the strength, or even the necessity, he never requires heavy equipment - which is a plus, given how it would add unnecessary stress on his brace and left leg. So he usually does his dirty job in waist-high black dress pants that rides up to his naval and are tucked into thick black boots, causing some bagginess around the lower calves. His pants are accessorized with button suspenders crossing over each other on his back and then meeting parallel down his front. These suspenders are usually strapped over a greatly faded light grey t-shirt. The collar has three buttons going down the center, making it able to change from a round neck to a v-neck. He usually leaves them unbuttoned give the hot air or humidity of the environment he often enters, which in turn tends to reveal just a little bit of his chest and collarbone. The subtle fact that there are very faint hints of blood stains on his shirt that looks as though someone had tried to bleach the stains off the shirt - this in conjunction with the lack of any holes - might appear disturbing to anyone who just happens to notice it. Otherwise, his wardobe is dynamic, so describing his outfits during casual or formal ventures would do little to express his appearance, and would do no more justice than stating simply: he dresses very nicely as if he looks to impress. Underneath Barry's right arm is a tattoo in Arabic, a memento from a particular expedition that required him to infiltrate an organization of radicals. It reads "وعاء الله", which means "Allah's vessel", or "God's pot".
Personality
Outward & Innate Personality: Barry appears as a cheerful fellow, but somehow balancing his grating optimism with stern realism. He wears a smile on his face most of the time, one that appears almost naive, but also inquisitive. His eyes always appear to be trailing somebody, or analyzing something, and very few details escape him. In fact, were it not for his charming demeanor, he might even be marked as the group's creep who watches everybody simultaneously. He assures this as nothing more than simple curiosity of studying human behavior and overseeing group cohesiveness. As such, he is quite adept when it comes to deductive reasoning and breaking down a person's behaviorisms that might tie in to other areas of that person's life as well. In fact, he is quite possibly more aware and knowledgeable of his comrades than they are aware of (but he is also rather fond at looking through personnel files). Otherwise, he may just be an incredibly elaborate liar. But there's little doubt in any one of his seasoned associates' mind that the man is brilliant. It is even said by his comrades: mad, but brilliant. But mad, per se, was of course the perspectives of another individual who was ignorant of Barry's reasoning and of his intents.
He is a mixed bag in terms of morality. He is sympathetic to the wounded and the soldiers that do the fighting, and while he would much rather prefer a calm and relaxing time working with his "clients" to get what he needs, he doesn't flinch at the prospect of turning an interrogation session on its heels to either scare or torture the information out of a target. Jobs such as that, and jobs such as infiltration, allow him to disconnect himself from others to a degree that is almost inhuman. He also is not above manipulating or lying to either foes or allies, provided that the outcome is decisive in his favor. However, he remains an egalitarian at heart and is uncharacteristically loyal to his primary employer. He doesn't quite let on at to his purpose in being there - whether its money or excitement or so on, but he definitely does enjoy the perks out of being in his line of work. He doesn't think about religion and gods a whole lot, but he has forsaken God when he was treated in kind when imprisoned in South America.
There's something not quite right with Baron, though. Right inside. There's something that he doesn't let show itself to anyone. It is as though there's a little devil in him that allows him to deviate from his usual habits and allows for a delightful potential for cruelty in Baron. On typical occasions, his moral compass would forbid him from doing anything outrageous. He can coldly - calculatingly - see opportunities in which an icy touch is necessary. With a flick of a switch, he turns off his usual moral restraints; this mood takes over, generally done during very "personal" matters, and can be robotically condemning. Something about America del Sur pulled something in his head that made him learn how to selectively detach himself and see things under a... dark light. He no longer believes in mercy... at least, not in severe circumstances such as, shall we say, war.
Hobbies/Interests: Cigarettes, chess, prose, cold coffee, cheeses, wines, olives, corned beef, psychology and sociology, vintage, music (classical, jazz, swing, blues), musicals, linguistics, foreign culture, etc. Baron is a man of many interests and enjoys simple indulgences, and prefers the rich taste of life's fruits. He pursues not the things that makes life work but the things that makes life worth living.
Skills/Talents: Despite the oddities that he may be accused of, he isn't as emotionally distant as some people who "know" him may think. He can break up a fight between soldiers and other personnel, or at least ease the tension between the two or few. Even though whoever has heard of him among the ranks is well aware of his occupation, not many actually grasp how much Barry is truly a psychological genius. If he so wished it, he could play games with a person's head at a whim. He has knowledge of the correlation between body movements/functions, and between that and undercover experience, a degree of body control that allows him to expertly craft lies, or even see right through the lies of others. Through his years of training, he can work enough of the right charm to work the truth out of a person.
Or alternatively, he can work his otherwise charming charisma into more devious matters such as intimidation or interrogation. True, while his physical form isn't too intimidating, he is cunning and intelligent enough to pick just the right words to get under your skin and play off your worst fears. That is his job in his business – he works with a mercenary group – but he isn't just some simple hired gun. There are plenty of those. When it comes to gathering information on somebody, he can hand you all you need to know just by spending some time with them alone. Having experience inserting himself into different places, he's somewhat of an amateur linguist. He learns enough of a bunch of different languages, but usually forgets how to speak them afterward when they're no longer relevant. He also enjoys chess and poetry in the form of prose. He has some cooking ability. Nobody lets him play card games anymore.
Prized Possession: He isn't very sentimental with a lot of things. Naturally, he's attached to the tools of his trade. He has a brand of handgun (that he is allowed to carry due to a gun permit) called a Caracal CP. He also possesses an early 1900s French-made Apache revolver, and is his favorite of the two. He has a modern black vehicle that's been outfitted so that the body resembles a 1940s Bentley. He also has a dog. He's a Great Dane named Pavlov.
Quote(s): “I'm always looking for a theory good and complex enough to stamp my name onto it. The Moreau Theory – that has a nice ring to it, am I right? I've no intention on wasting that!”
History/Bio: Baron was born into a middle class family in Canada and went to a wonderfully reviewed school. His last name came from his father's line - he was, in fact, only about 10% French. But that was the family line that gave him a French last name. Since his youth, psychology and the inner workings of the brain fascinated him, so he took the electives and courses as they were available to him. It was a bit challenging trying to choose between neuroscience and psychology, but the idea of understanding people appealed to him more. So he pursued the psychological path. He started at the age of 18, straight out of high-school and enjoyed his classes and found great interest in them. In fact, while he initially wanted to get his Psy.D. in psychology, he continued school for another year or two just so he could say he has a Ph.D. He got out of school in six years, getting an Associates degree in neuroscience and a Doctorates degree in psychology, and at 24, was in the workforce. At first, he worked in counseling, whether it be with children, adults, or even marriages. That sort of thing. It was nice of course - helping people - it was heartwarming, but also a little depressing. He also found it less of understanding people and more of letting his clients talk everything out, and while he asked questions about what he thought that meant, he let them come to their own conclusions. It was primarily about asking them simple questions and, occasionally, a lot of lying. So he left that job and tried his hand in criminal psychology, which he turned out to be very good at and later opened up other pathways in which he would try his hand in. He worked as a part-time detective, however, still in the psychological field where he helped figure out where the person may go given their circumstances and he was also interrogating during that time via verbal means. He attempted actual detective-work, which was mostly paperwork, and then private investigating when he learned he liked working by his own rules instead. He had many different jobs throughout the psychological and investigative fields, and some of his favorite jobs was in criminal psychology, undercover work, and investigative psychology where he was pitted against the suspect in an interrogation room.
Later, a business called the Dreadnaughts, a mercenary group, found him at the age of 27 and he found the thrill he was looking for. As it turns out, Baron was the only psychologist they found good enough or honest enough to work with them. Good enough where he even survived long enough to last three years, taking part in their hilarious antics (such as the time where he infiltrated a terrorist group holed up in Saudi Arabia, and was payed by the Arabian government itself). He went missing for nearly a year after a mission with them, where was kidnapped by some guerrilla group in South America.
He was interrogated and tortured, where he tried his hardest to hold himself out through the agony. He was a pretty valuable prisoner to them, as he was held in their custody for ten months. Baron told them next to nothing about the Dreadnaughts during that time, but he did feel his willpower giving out and his constitution would not allow him much more punishment. Fortunately, during a feeding hour, they forgot to secure his manacles. He worked himself out of the cage, and before slipping away, he silently killed almost half of their men with a sharp piece of scrap metal, all the while with a cartilage-worn and broken left leg. He was spared the wrath of the jungle and eventually found a civilization of a small town and secured a trip with the locals to the nearest hospital. At the hospital, he rested for a couple of days and got back in contact with the Dreadnaughts. He was back in the game with some physical rehabilitation, and that experience in South America taught him plenty. While he knew the tricks of keeping yourself from being manipulated, never was that knowledge tested as much as it was during that time. The other thing he learned? No mercy on the battlefield. It was starting then he stopped allowing other members to visit him while he's interrogating. Things may get messy if his "client" is stubborn enough. It's safe to say that his methods has gotten slightly more unorthodox since his escape a year ago.
Altogether, Baron has four years of service under his belt, although he considers himself to be a Dreadnaught for a total five years (counting even his time whilst imprisoned - a lot of time there were questions about them). To avoid another event like that, he has a number of code names which he alternates through depending on the sort of mission he's on and he's built up a reputation with each of them, fooling his enemies into thinking there are three different dangerous people without letting on he could be any of them. "Skinwalker" for infiltration missions, "Dracula" for interrogation and diplomacy missions, and "Zombie", which was a nickname he earned from the rest of the crew because of how he "came back from the dead" (plus his limp). This came to be another code name that he takes on in every other operation.
He is currently taking paid leave and is vacationing off back home in Canada. His primary destination was to be Ottawa, Quebec, but when he heard about Black Fall, and heard about how it was a hub for the usually rare super-humans, he foregone his plans and decided to visit there. Whether he decides to go there for the light shows or for the valuable data and research he could get off the residents there (Looking into the mind of a super-human? Not an easy opportunity to pass up!), he's sure he's going to be in for one hell of a vacation.
Family:
Sylvester Moreau, Father (deceased)
Bernadette Moreau, Mother (alive)
Relationships
Relationships:
N/A
Abilities
Power Class: N/A
Power: N/A
Weaknesses/Limitations/Drawbacks: N/A
Other: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D0uCm08fahw
Sample Post: Blood – it was everywhere. Splatted all over the walls, the floor, with bits of gore and what only looked to be gnawed-on fragments of bone in some corners where the first responders has failed to investigate properly. Baron walked around the scene, pacing, taking all of it in. He had already scouted the surrounding area. The pool of blood was clearly the scene in which the death had occurred, but there was a chase. A struggle. In the ally, outside of which the murder had occurred, a trail of blood led the scene. Some on a dumpster. There were abnormal cracks within the brick walls. The kind of damage you only see in the north, where water seeped between the small cracks in the wall and froze, splitting it. They were all over this ally but scarce everywhere else. This part of town wasn't that old - and the murder scene seemed like the guy was put in a shredder.
There was also claw marks in the pavement. Forensic investigations found residue in the claw marks and collected it. The blood was sampled with cue tips and cotton swabs and placed in baggies. However, this murder was so fresh, even the first responders were still doing the jobs. It couldn't have been any longer than twenty minutes ago. Closer to fifteen. Three sirens flashes around the taped off scene.
The event had occurred between two meta-humans. Meta-humans were part of the reason Baron had first come to this town instead of New Orleans. The psychological insight would be invaluable. But when he arrived, he learned that the meta-humans here had actually formed two distinct, but equally dangerous street gangs that'd make the LA Bloods look like children on a playground. If Baron's hunch was right, an inter-gang altercation was the most reasonable explanation. Turf wars and so on.
“P.I.?” Asked a detective assessing the scene. It was to see if they could discover any oversights in the initial survey. “I understand that we've hired you to help us, and that you do things your own way, but we still need you to cooperate with our department.”
“Of course.” Baron replied absentmindedly. He walked over to his protégé's side, his left leg limping behind him. He was adorned in a chic outfit. From the bottom up, polished black dress shoes with dress pants. Black suspenders attached themselves to the waistband and wrapped around his lime-green oxford shirt, layered upon which was a black vest. It was an ironed outfit, free of wrinkles, and his hair was slickly gelled back as per the usual.
He took a final look at the scene before giving his assessment. “This was a chase. He must've been running for a while. He must've been followed. And I think it'd be most reasonable to suspect that this is gang activity. I found blood on the dumpster in the back of the alley. That should be a good place to check for prints.”
The detective sighed. “Got that. We'll send the forensics team over and get that sorted out. Thank you for your help.”
“It's my pleasure.” Baron added graciously.
The detective turned about and watched the scene: from forensic analysts gathering evidence and the police inspecting the area, and the remains of the body being zipped up in a body bag. “I can tell you we know that he was a Skull member. Moderately reputable, got into trouble kinda frequently. Judging from the structural damage, and the drop in temperature in the area, I have a hunch he was that John Frost thug.”
“Then it'd make sense that this was an action taken by the Vanguards.”
“Yes, it would. But the evidence we received isn't conclusive enough to give us a face, or even a name. Quite frankly, it pisses me off.”
Baron laughed jovially. “ I can imagine. And there's a lot of evidence here, yeah. Blood all over the damn place. Ever since their kind started comin' in Mendel, we've just had–”
“I dunno,” he interrupted, prompting an annoyed frown from Baron, “but Skeleton is gonna lose his shit when he hears about this one.”
“Was he a big deal?” Baron asked.
“Do I look like I hang around fuckin' gangsters? All I know is that the guy was apparently a Skull.”
“Fine, fine. Let's call it a day then. I'll ask around in the meantime. Maybe something has happened between the two parties to invite bad blood.”
“Heard that – I'll keep in touch with you.”
Baron nodded his acquaintance off and walked away on his own. There was a bar nearby. He wasn't much of a fan of bars. They did not often sell the kind of vintage that Baron was a fan of, and the atmospheres were often too rustic. However, they were the gathering places of the local savvies. There he can obtain information on his case. It wasn't Club 76 or the Jolly Roger – those two places were renowned for being the hubs of gang activity. The only reason why the department didn't storm in and fire the place up was probably the risk of losing too many officers.
No, this was a lesser known bar. More suited for those who wanted to get away from all that nonsense. To keep low. To avoid association. What better place to obtain information?
He took the bus. He payed the fare and rode it out, making sure to give people his especially suspicious face – like a smug grin, and piercing gaze. Give them the impression that Baron was watching them, or that they were his target, so that he may be alone in his seat. It was surprisingly easy. Just how tight was the grip of these gangs on this town? Perhaps solving a murder or two wasn't all that needed to be done. If he was feeling especially spry, then he ought to contemplating dismantling all criminal power here.
But that'd require effort he wasn't being payed to spend.
When he got to his stop, no time was wasted in going in and getting straight to business. He walked straight the door, and checked out what was inside. The bar was slightly dead. A couple people here and there. Almost all keeping to themselves. Lack of trust, or suspicion? Or, perhaps looking to solve out their own problems. The guy in the gray business suit? A rectangular lump in his pants, and a similar, almost identical shape in his coat pocket over his breast. The top of which stuck out, it being a phone. His brown hair, scruffy, his face unshaven. His suit, that which appeared to be regularly ironed, was unkempt. Tugged in areas. Sweat soaked in the pants and below his neck. Constantly checking his phone in his coat. What could be the reasons? Put himself in his shoes, and the answers narrow down. Huge promotion? Possibly getting fired? Feedback on a project? Or maybe he cheated on his wife or girlfriend? The smallest red speck that could be mistaken for blood on the edge of his mouth – which did gloss under the light. All one could really do is wish him the best of luck.
Or perhaps the other man, alone on a bar stool. Salt and pepper hair, red skin – not so red, or the kind of red that'd be the sign of a southern man, it was an identifier of damaged skin. Thin wrinkles crawled over his body... scruffy facial hair... city-man attire... eh? No, no... maybe? Couldn't be. Or could it? Baron was, at heart, a doctor and scientist. He couldn't make exceptions. Still, God be damned if it was his old co-worker. He limped over, quietly, casually. He eased over by this stranger's side and leaned against the counter.
“So,” Baron started saying, “anything been interesting lately? Like that murder down the way. What's up with that any-who?”
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Barry, Zombie, etc.
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Height: 6'3”
Weight: 154 lbs
Faction: Neutral
Appearance
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Green
Ethnicity: Canadian; has English and French blood.
Physical Appearance/Attire: Barry looks rather unorthodox among his mercenary crowd, appearing more of an aristocrat than anything else. He is tall and slender, specifically standing at 6'3", and weighs in at 154 lbs. This said, he isn't the strongest fighter and his body is fairly skinny and not as muscular as much of his other... “associates”, although he does abide by the standard requirement of fitness in his organization that is befitting of him, though this is usually in the form of physical therapy (he has a strong, mechanical brace reinforcing his left leg). His skin is fairly pale and unblemished by anything other than the scars littered over his body. On his back, torso, legs, and so on - the damage on his left leg in particular being rather severe and is bestrewn with scar tissue. His pale skin is in dramatic contrast with his black hair, which comes down at a widow's peak, and is neatly swept backwards with a comb and then kept in place a small dab of hair gel. If he were to go out on a tactical mission, he would appear almost as though he were going out on a date, but forgot his dress coat. He has piercing green eyes that are, at just the right angle, appearing somewhat hollow, if words were to do any justice. It is as if he stared into hell and hell stared back, but even then, they appear no less brilliant, cunning, deceptive, or even deadly. Thick lashes and sharp eyebrows simply sharpen his piercing gaze. His true expressions always seem somewhat hidden, as though his face were hidden by a million and one masks, each with their own different story. Even his walk, it seems, where his apparent full-of-himself strut appears to be well-disguised pacing. This brings along with him an air of mystery. Given his pampered features and esoteric air, along with a charming and clever disposition, he's quite the heart-breaker. His hands are covered in calluses and his fingers usually look a little cut up, but is generally well taken care of.
If he had a choice in his uniform, he'd be dressed nicely and perhaps come in a nice suit with a boutonnière. However, glamour and sophistication has no place in his line of work or among suburbs (unless the objective specifically calls for good appearances). He often visits areas in South America, so the humidity doesn't help much to bolster his preferred fashion. Lacking the strength, or even the necessity, he never requires heavy equipment - which is a plus, given how it would add unnecessary stress on his brace and left leg. So he usually does his dirty job in waist-high black dress pants that rides up to his naval and are tucked into thick black boots, causing some bagginess around the lower calves. His pants are accessorized with button suspenders crossing over each other on his back and then meeting parallel down his front. These suspenders are usually strapped over a greatly faded light grey t-shirt. The collar has three buttons going down the center, making it able to change from a round neck to a v-neck. He usually leaves them unbuttoned give the hot air or humidity of the environment he often enters, which in turn tends to reveal just a little bit of his chest and collarbone. The subtle fact that there are very faint hints of blood stains on his shirt that looks as though someone had tried to bleach the stains off the shirt - this in conjunction with the lack of any holes - might appear disturbing to anyone who just happens to notice it. Otherwise, his wardobe is dynamic, so describing his outfits during casual or formal ventures would do little to express his appearance, and would do no more justice than stating simply: he dresses very nicely as if he looks to impress. Underneath Barry's right arm is a tattoo in Arabic, a memento from a particular expedition that required him to infiltrate an organization of radicals. It reads "وعاء الله", which means "Allah's vessel", or "God's pot".
Personality
Outward & Innate Personality: Barry appears as a cheerful fellow, but somehow balancing his grating optimism with stern realism. He wears a smile on his face most of the time, one that appears almost naive, but also inquisitive. His eyes always appear to be trailing somebody, or analyzing something, and very few details escape him. In fact, were it not for his charming demeanor, he might even be marked as the group's creep who watches everybody simultaneously. He assures this as nothing more than simple curiosity of studying human behavior and overseeing group cohesiveness. As such, he is quite adept when it comes to deductive reasoning and breaking down a person's behaviorisms that might tie in to other areas of that person's life as well. In fact, he is quite possibly more aware and knowledgeable of his comrades than they are aware of (but he is also rather fond at looking through personnel files). Otherwise, he may just be an incredibly elaborate liar. But there's little doubt in any one of his seasoned associates' mind that the man is brilliant. It is even said by his comrades: mad, but brilliant. But mad, per se, was of course the perspectives of another individual who was ignorant of Barry's reasoning and of his intents.
He is a mixed bag in terms of morality. He is sympathetic to the wounded and the soldiers that do the fighting, and while he would much rather prefer a calm and relaxing time working with his "clients" to get what he needs, he doesn't flinch at the prospect of turning an interrogation session on its heels to either scare or torture the information out of a target. Jobs such as that, and jobs such as infiltration, allow him to disconnect himself from others to a degree that is almost inhuman. He also is not above manipulating or lying to either foes or allies, provided that the outcome is decisive in his favor. However, he remains an egalitarian at heart and is uncharacteristically loyal to his primary employer. He doesn't quite let on at to his purpose in being there - whether its money or excitement or so on, but he definitely does enjoy the perks out of being in his line of work. He doesn't think about religion and gods a whole lot, but he has forsaken God when he was treated in kind when imprisoned in South America.
There's something not quite right with Baron, though. Right inside. There's something that he doesn't let show itself to anyone. It is as though there's a little devil in him that allows him to deviate from his usual habits and allows for a delightful potential for cruelty in Baron. On typical occasions, his moral compass would forbid him from doing anything outrageous. He can coldly - calculatingly - see opportunities in which an icy touch is necessary. With a flick of a switch, he turns off his usual moral restraints; this mood takes over, generally done during very "personal" matters, and can be robotically condemning. Something about America del Sur pulled something in his head that made him learn how to selectively detach himself and see things under a... dark light. He no longer believes in mercy... at least, not in severe circumstances such as, shall we say, war.
Hobbies/Interests: Cigarettes, chess, prose, cold coffee, cheeses, wines, olives, corned beef, psychology and sociology, vintage, music (classical, jazz, swing, blues), musicals, linguistics, foreign culture, etc. Baron is a man of many interests and enjoys simple indulgences, and prefers the rich taste of life's fruits. He pursues not the things that makes life work but the things that makes life worth living.
Skills/Talents: Despite the oddities that he may be accused of, he isn't as emotionally distant as some people who "know" him may think. He can break up a fight between soldiers and other personnel, or at least ease the tension between the two or few. Even though whoever has heard of him among the ranks is well aware of his occupation, not many actually grasp how much Barry is truly a psychological genius. If he so wished it, he could play games with a person's head at a whim. He has knowledge of the correlation between body movements/functions, and between that and undercover experience, a degree of body control that allows him to expertly craft lies, or even see right through the lies of others. Through his years of training, he can work enough of the right charm to work the truth out of a person.
Or alternatively, he can work his otherwise charming charisma into more devious matters such as intimidation or interrogation. True, while his physical form isn't too intimidating, he is cunning and intelligent enough to pick just the right words to get under your skin and play off your worst fears. That is his job in his business – he works with a mercenary group – but he isn't just some simple hired gun. There are plenty of those. When it comes to gathering information on somebody, he can hand you all you need to know just by spending some time with them alone. Having experience inserting himself into different places, he's somewhat of an amateur linguist. He learns enough of a bunch of different languages, but usually forgets how to speak them afterward when they're no longer relevant. He also enjoys chess and poetry in the form of prose. He has some cooking ability. Nobody lets him play card games anymore.
Prized Possession: He isn't very sentimental with a lot of things. Naturally, he's attached to the tools of his trade. He has a brand of handgun (that he is allowed to carry due to a gun permit) called a Caracal CP. He also possesses an early 1900s French-made Apache revolver, and is his favorite of the two. He has a modern black vehicle that's been outfitted so that the body resembles a 1940s Bentley. He also has a dog. He's a Great Dane named Pavlov.
Quote(s): “I'm always looking for a theory good and complex enough to stamp my name onto it. The Moreau Theory – that has a nice ring to it, am I right? I've no intention on wasting that!”
History/Bio: Baron was born into a middle class family in Canada and went to a wonderfully reviewed school. His last name came from his father's line - he was, in fact, only about 10% French. But that was the family line that gave him a French last name. Since his youth, psychology and the inner workings of the brain fascinated him, so he took the electives and courses as they were available to him. It was a bit challenging trying to choose between neuroscience and psychology, but the idea of understanding people appealed to him more. So he pursued the psychological path. He started at the age of 18, straight out of high-school and enjoyed his classes and found great interest in them. In fact, while he initially wanted to get his Psy.D. in psychology, he continued school for another year or two just so he could say he has a Ph.D. He got out of school in six years, getting an Associates degree in neuroscience and a Doctorates degree in psychology, and at 24, was in the workforce. At first, he worked in counseling, whether it be with children, adults, or even marriages. That sort of thing. It was nice of course - helping people - it was heartwarming, but also a little depressing. He also found it less of understanding people and more of letting his clients talk everything out, and while he asked questions about what he thought that meant, he let them come to their own conclusions. It was primarily about asking them simple questions and, occasionally, a lot of lying. So he left that job and tried his hand in criminal psychology, which he turned out to be very good at and later opened up other pathways in which he would try his hand in. He worked as a part-time detective, however, still in the psychological field where he helped figure out where the person may go given their circumstances and he was also interrogating during that time via verbal means. He attempted actual detective-work, which was mostly paperwork, and then private investigating when he learned he liked working by his own rules instead. He had many different jobs throughout the psychological and investigative fields, and some of his favorite jobs was in criminal psychology, undercover work, and investigative psychology where he was pitted against the suspect in an interrogation room.
Later, a business called the Dreadnaughts, a mercenary group, found him at the age of 27 and he found the thrill he was looking for. As it turns out, Baron was the only psychologist they found good enough or honest enough to work with them. Good enough where he even survived long enough to last three years, taking part in their hilarious antics (such as the time where he infiltrated a terrorist group holed up in Saudi Arabia, and was payed by the Arabian government itself). He went missing for nearly a year after a mission with them, where was kidnapped by some guerrilla group in South America.
He was interrogated and tortured, where he tried his hardest to hold himself out through the agony. He was a pretty valuable prisoner to them, as he was held in their custody for ten months. Baron told them next to nothing about the Dreadnaughts during that time, but he did feel his willpower giving out and his constitution would not allow him much more punishment. Fortunately, during a feeding hour, they forgot to secure his manacles. He worked himself out of the cage, and before slipping away, he silently killed almost half of their men with a sharp piece of scrap metal, all the while with a cartilage-worn and broken left leg. He was spared the wrath of the jungle and eventually found a civilization of a small town and secured a trip with the locals to the nearest hospital. At the hospital, he rested for a couple of days and got back in contact with the Dreadnaughts. He was back in the game with some physical rehabilitation, and that experience in South America taught him plenty. While he knew the tricks of keeping yourself from being manipulated, never was that knowledge tested as much as it was during that time. The other thing he learned? No mercy on the battlefield. It was starting then he stopped allowing other members to visit him while he's interrogating. Things may get messy if his "client" is stubborn enough. It's safe to say that his methods has gotten slightly more unorthodox since his escape a year ago.
Altogether, Baron has four years of service under his belt, although he considers himself to be a Dreadnaught for a total five years (counting even his time whilst imprisoned - a lot of time there were questions about them). To avoid another event like that, he has a number of code names which he alternates through depending on the sort of mission he's on and he's built up a reputation with each of them, fooling his enemies into thinking there are three different dangerous people without letting on he could be any of them. "Skinwalker" for infiltration missions, "Dracula" for interrogation and diplomacy missions, and "Zombie", which was a nickname he earned from the rest of the crew because of how he "came back from the dead" (plus his limp). This came to be another code name that he takes on in every other operation.
He is currently taking paid leave and is vacationing off back home in Canada. His primary destination was to be Ottawa, Quebec, but when he heard about Black Fall, and heard about how it was a hub for the usually rare super-humans, he foregone his plans and decided to visit there. Whether he decides to go there for the light shows or for the valuable data and research he could get off the residents there (Looking into the mind of a super-human? Not an easy opportunity to pass up!), he's sure he's going to be in for one hell of a vacation.
Family:
Sylvester Moreau, Father (deceased)
Bernadette Moreau, Mother (alive)
Relationships
Relationships:
N/A
Abilities
Power Class: N/A
Power: N/A
Weaknesses/Limitations/Drawbacks: N/A
Other: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D0uCm08fahw
Sample Post: Blood – it was everywhere. Splatted all over the walls, the floor, with bits of gore and what only looked to be gnawed-on fragments of bone in some corners where the first responders has failed to investigate properly. Baron walked around the scene, pacing, taking all of it in. He had already scouted the surrounding area. The pool of blood was clearly the scene in which the death had occurred, but there was a chase. A struggle. In the ally, outside of which the murder had occurred, a trail of blood led the scene. Some on a dumpster. There were abnormal cracks within the brick walls. The kind of damage you only see in the north, where water seeped between the small cracks in the wall and froze, splitting it. They were all over this ally but scarce everywhere else. This part of town wasn't that old - and the murder scene seemed like the guy was put in a shredder.
There was also claw marks in the pavement. Forensic investigations found residue in the claw marks and collected it. The blood was sampled with cue tips and cotton swabs and placed in baggies. However, this murder was so fresh, even the first responders were still doing the jobs. It couldn't have been any longer than twenty minutes ago. Closer to fifteen. Three sirens flashes around the taped off scene.
The event had occurred between two meta-humans. Meta-humans were part of the reason Baron had first come to this town instead of New Orleans. The psychological insight would be invaluable. But when he arrived, he learned that the meta-humans here had actually formed two distinct, but equally dangerous street gangs that'd make the LA Bloods look like children on a playground. If Baron's hunch was right, an inter-gang altercation was the most reasonable explanation. Turf wars and so on.
“P.I.?” Asked a detective assessing the scene. It was to see if they could discover any oversights in the initial survey. “I understand that we've hired you to help us, and that you do things your own way, but we still need you to cooperate with our department.”
“Of course.” Baron replied absentmindedly. He walked over to his protégé's side, his left leg limping behind him. He was adorned in a chic outfit. From the bottom up, polished black dress shoes with dress pants. Black suspenders attached themselves to the waistband and wrapped around his lime-green oxford shirt, layered upon which was a black vest. It was an ironed outfit, free of wrinkles, and his hair was slickly gelled back as per the usual.
He took a final look at the scene before giving his assessment. “This was a chase. He must've been running for a while. He must've been followed. And I think it'd be most reasonable to suspect that this is gang activity. I found blood on the dumpster in the back of the alley. That should be a good place to check for prints.”
The detective sighed. “Got that. We'll send the forensics team over and get that sorted out. Thank you for your help.”
“It's my pleasure.” Baron added graciously.
The detective turned about and watched the scene: from forensic analysts gathering evidence and the police inspecting the area, and the remains of the body being zipped up in a body bag. “I can tell you we know that he was a Skull member. Moderately reputable, got into trouble kinda frequently. Judging from the structural damage, and the drop in temperature in the area, I have a hunch he was that John Frost thug.”
“Then it'd make sense that this was an action taken by the Vanguards.”
“Yes, it would. But the evidence we received isn't conclusive enough to give us a face, or even a name. Quite frankly, it pisses me off.”
Baron laughed jovially. “ I can imagine. And there's a lot of evidence here, yeah. Blood all over the damn place. Ever since their kind started comin' in Mendel, we've just had–”
“I dunno,” he interrupted, prompting an annoyed frown from Baron, “but Skeleton is gonna lose his shit when he hears about this one.”
“Was he a big deal?” Baron asked.
“Do I look like I hang around fuckin' gangsters? All I know is that the guy was apparently a Skull.”
“Fine, fine. Let's call it a day then. I'll ask around in the meantime. Maybe something has happened between the two parties to invite bad blood.”
“Heard that – I'll keep in touch with you.”
Baron nodded his acquaintance off and walked away on his own. There was a bar nearby. He wasn't much of a fan of bars. They did not often sell the kind of vintage that Baron was a fan of, and the atmospheres were often too rustic. However, they were the gathering places of the local savvies. There he can obtain information on his case. It wasn't Club 76 or the Jolly Roger – those two places were renowned for being the hubs of gang activity. The only reason why the department didn't storm in and fire the place up was probably the risk of losing too many officers.
No, this was a lesser known bar. More suited for those who wanted to get away from all that nonsense. To keep low. To avoid association. What better place to obtain information?
He took the bus. He payed the fare and rode it out, making sure to give people his especially suspicious face – like a smug grin, and piercing gaze. Give them the impression that Baron was watching them, or that they were his target, so that he may be alone in his seat. It was surprisingly easy. Just how tight was the grip of these gangs on this town? Perhaps solving a murder or two wasn't all that needed to be done. If he was feeling especially spry, then he ought to contemplating dismantling all criminal power here.
But that'd require effort he wasn't being payed to spend.
When he got to his stop, no time was wasted in going in and getting straight to business. He walked straight the door, and checked out what was inside. The bar was slightly dead. A couple people here and there. Almost all keeping to themselves. Lack of trust, or suspicion? Or, perhaps looking to solve out their own problems. The guy in the gray business suit? A rectangular lump in his pants, and a similar, almost identical shape in his coat pocket over his breast. The top of which stuck out, it being a phone. His brown hair, scruffy, his face unshaven. His suit, that which appeared to be regularly ironed, was unkempt. Tugged in areas. Sweat soaked in the pants and below his neck. Constantly checking his phone in his coat. What could be the reasons? Put himself in his shoes, and the answers narrow down. Huge promotion? Possibly getting fired? Feedback on a project? Or maybe he cheated on his wife or girlfriend? The smallest red speck that could be mistaken for blood on the edge of his mouth – which did gloss under the light. All one could really do is wish him the best of luck.
Or perhaps the other man, alone on a bar stool. Salt and pepper hair, red skin – not so red, or the kind of red that'd be the sign of a southern man, it was an identifier of damaged skin. Thin wrinkles crawled over his body... scruffy facial hair... city-man attire... eh? No, no... maybe? Couldn't be. Or could it? Baron was, at heart, a doctor and scientist. He couldn't make exceptions. Still, God be damned if it was his old co-worker. He limped over, quietly, casually. He eased over by this stranger's side and leaned against the counter.
“So,” Baron started saying, “anything been interesting lately? Like that murder down the way. What's up with that any-who?”
Basic Information
Name: Harmon Rottlage
Nickname/Alias/Etc: None.
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Height: Five feet, ten inches (without accounting for metals)
Weight: 131.3 lbs (metals account for varying weights, averaging up to three pounds before grooming)
Home District: Dead End
Appearance
Hair Color: N/A (no hair)
Eye Color: N/A (no eyes)
Ethnicity: ???
Physical Appearance: Harmon is not what some folks would immediately label a human being. He possesses a gaunt, pale, horribly withered frame that almost looks ready to cave in on itself, his skeleton half-visible for all to see. His face is… well, he doesn’t have much of one. His lips are cracked and lightly tinted with dried blood. He has no eyes, ears, or nose (though he does have nasal cavities resting above his mouth). Resting atop the crown of his head are several jagged, pseudo-metallic protrusions, which act as the collective ‘focusing point’ of his abilities. And yes, they hurt as much as they look.
Attire: Harmon dresses himself in a torn white hoodie and a ragged pair of beige cargo shorts. He wraps a weathered blanket around himself when he ventures into the cold. None of these items have been washed in years.
Personality
Personality: Harmon is a socially inept wallflower. His experience with NEST has left him on the verge of being a paranoid recluse, trumped only by his compulsive need to scavenge food and equipment. Normally veering away from social interaction, Harmon puts others off given his appearance, spastic gestures, and mumbling. For those who do approach him, however, he doesn’t much regard their presence as extraordinary or anything. In conversation, he’s naturally apprehensive and questioning, but given time, he tends to confide in those he believes he can trust. If he doesn’t forget who they are the next day. Or a week later.
Hobbies/Interests: Harmon collects cameras, batteries, and other electronic devices and resources whenever and wherever he can. He himself doesn’t see it so much as a hobby rather than something as necessary as eating or sleeping, given his physical inability to see without the use of a camera, so he vies to ensure he always has a backup in case of an accident, or if ever someone ‘blinds’ him. Others would probably label it a deranged obsession, though. Harmon also tends to scrawl graffiti and gibberish whenever he’s feeling particularly disturbed.
Skills/Talents: From years of experience, Harmon knows how to properly dissect, disassemble, and maintain a plethora of electronic and mechanical devices.
Prized Possession: His camera. Or, whichever one he picks up from his assortment for the day. He has a lot of them, after all.
Quote(s): “Y-you… you, you, you have long hair you get those… k͞n͡o̷t̛s in the strands and you take your fingers s̷t͟r͡aigh̕t̶e̢n̕ ͘tḩem̶ ͜o̸ut͘ it feels fine… I get those knots i͝nsi̸d͜e͝ ̷m͞y͜ ͝hea͘d, inside, inside, A̕͟͠L͜͞͡L̷̶ ͡T̨̛͜H̷͡͡E͢͡ ̧̢͟͠T͏I͏͝͠͏͝M̛͜Ę̴͘͢͞… have to dig them out… one by o͘n̸̨͡e͢͞…”
History/Bio: Harmon Rottlage is, by all reasonable accounts, no one special. He was born, raised, and will most likely die in the Dead End district of the city of Black Fall. He was the product of a sick, dying man and a gentle woman viewed by many as a monster, both whose names and appearances Harmon has long since forgotten. At the moment of his birth, his mother’s interior organs were torn apart due to the metals lodged in Harmon’s head while he was still in the womb. It was bloody, and it was loud. She, of course, did not survive. Harmon’s father deigned to raise the baby nonetheless, as was his “wife’s” dying wish.
Harmon was raised in the Leonard Housing Developments for most of his youth. His father kept him in the same room he was born within, which the baby didn’t leave for the first seven years of his life. Working a terrible job somewhere else in the city at the time, he managed well enough to raise the child. He fed him, educated him, and helped him learn how to control his abilities to the best of his own. Whatever they had, it was meager, but it held together long enough for the boy and his father to forge something of a bond. All of that ended when one day when, out of the blue, Harmon’s father left and never returned. No one knows if he succumbed to whatever disease he had, or he was gunned down or what, but he never came back. Harmon was seven at the time and was afraid of leaving the room he was born and raised in, so he never went to look for his father or ask others where he went. His father also kept the metals in his head plucked and shaved because the boy was too meager to do it himself. So, over time, the metals grew unattended, as did his inability to cope with the pain they brought. After some time, the metals grew so large that Harmon was rendered in a near-comatose state, interfering with much of the electrical equipment and devices in the building beyond his control. After a few dozen complaints were made, NEST agents came in and found the boy, lying on the floor, shifting in and out of perceivable space, head covered in jagged metals that made their surveillance equipment malfunction. After suppressing his abilities some, they performed an on-site “grooming” and took the boy with them.
Harmon was processed and registered by NEST after he awoke from his comatose state, and put under heavy suppressants to keep the equipment from malfunctioning. They put the chip in his arm and everything. If today you asked him what the process was like, he would shake and stutter, unable to respond appropriately. They asked him where his family was but he couldn’t tell them. The sheer mental weight that the metals put on his thoughts caused him to lose all memory of his father, and what little he had of his mother. Their names, faces, everything was gone. To this day he tries to recall them, but he always fails. After the grueling ordeal was over, Harmon was given a recording device to see with and was sent to Fort Jacobs. He was enrolled in George Washington Elementary, and was cared for in the Onsite Residential District by an appointed foster parent and guardian. His school life was, to be blunt, awful. Other children feared and mocked him for his appearance, and teachers had a problem with his passive tampering with their phones and computers. After a while, they requested he be removed and educated elsewhere, ideally by his assigned guardian. The guardian was resentful of having to care for the boy full-time, but he was forced to put up with him nonetheless. After some time of neglect and mistreatment, the guardian was reassigned. Someone else would have been put in place to care for Harmon – had he not absconded back into the city during the night on the eve of his thirteenth birthday, escaping with the recording device they gave him, a sack full of extra batteries, some tools for grooming the metals in his head, and some food and water.
By then, Harmon was comparable to a frightened puppy. Dressed in an assortment of rags and a blanket, Harmon made his way back to the Dead End after studying a multitude of publicly displayed maps and hesitantly asking for directions, most of which he never received. After some weeks, he ended up back in the Leonard Housing Developments, finding the section where he was raised already occupied by a destitute family. Heartbroken, he ventured out into the downtrodden areas of the Dead End and, for better or worse, survived. For a time. After a week or so gone, NEST agents found Harmon and captured him, deeming him unfit for social interaction after his escape, and thus, sent him to a Box.
To this day, Harmon refuses to speak of what happened there.
After some time, Harmon was released from the Box after proving to be able to control his abilities and deemed responsible with them. Upon his release, NEST registered him under the monthly power assessment plan under a “manual retrieval term”. Given Harmon’s poor memory, he often forgets to attend his assessment. Thus, NEST agents come to bring him in and then release him back into the wild after making sure he’s behaving. They give him a complete plucking of his head-metals, which he finds unpleasant and unnecessary seeing as he is fully capable of doing it himself. They never listen.
After the assessments became routine and bearable, Harmon began doing his best to make a life for himself, however meager it may seem. He began hoarding phones, cameras, batteries, most any electrical devices he could scavenge from abandoned areas and gang hideouts. He avoided danger by sensing the phones in any potential assailants’ pockets and teleporting out of sight, which remains an effective tactic for him today. Harmon still doesn’t know if his caretakers went looking for him and failed, or if they disregarded him completely, but NEST hasn’t brought it up with him recently, figuring he is capable of caring for himself now anyway. Eventually, he reached a point of being able to sustain himself and, to this day, keeps up with his routine of venturing outside his current living quarters in the Joslyn House Motel, scavenging for food and equipment, coming back home, and then locking himself away from the dangers outside. Every month, NEST comes to bring him in and check up on him, let him go back outside, and the process starts all over again.
Family: As far as Harmon knows, both of his parents are dead and gone. He has long stopped searching for his father.
Relationships
Henry Olin | Neutral | NEST | "Once... every one of the twelve... sends the darkened-clad... puts me in the room... talks... tells...tests... h̷͝u͜rts̡... want him to... to stop..."
Fred Macroshelys | Neutral | NEST | "HhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhH̢͞H̀́H̡͘H̛͢H̴͝HHH̕͏ḨḨH̛͝H̷͠HH̡hhhhhhhhhhhhhhggggggggggghhhhhhhhh..."
Abilities
Power Class: Cerebral (5), Super-System (1), Power (1)
Power: Harmon possesses the ability to manipulate and interfere with electronic devices, mainly the type used for surveillance and connectivity. The extent of his powers range from being able to “see” through anything with a screen or lens; cameras, computer terminals, etc. He can also “black out” these devices, rendering them temporarily or permanently inoperable (dependent on the growth stage of the metals in his head). Harmon also possesses short-range teleportation, being able to shift towards any direction he can “see”. This power’s capabilities also rely on the metals. To clarify, these metals are not the source of his abilities, but rather a method of channeling them. The meta energy running through his body travels to his head and exits through the metals, allowing him to use his powers as he sees fit. The metals have a type of gradual maturation to them, growing longer and more jagged when Harmon leaves them unattended to for long periods of time. This growth rate also carries with it a proportional effect on Harmon’s abilities; the more they are allowed to grow, the more his powers grow in strength. This carries with it some unpleasant consequences, however.
Weaknesses/Limitations/Drawbacks: As stated, Harmon’s head-metals grow over time, strengthening his abilities as they do. The counter-action to this lies in the fact that the metals cause Harmon intense head pains, also proportional to how large they grow. Left un-plucked, the metals cause him constant migraines and memory loss, which only intensify to the point he suffers from random spasms and seizures. Harmon slowly loses control of his abilities as the metals grow, automatically interfering with any electronic devices in his vicinity and shifting randomly between every step or two. To remedy this, Harmon has to “pluck” the metals from his skull whenever they become too overbearing, with a pair of tweezers, tongs, or calipers. This process is very, very painful and takes Harmon some time and rest to recover from. The metals always start growing back a few days later, like teeth. But they never stop.
Other: Whenever Harmon gets worked up, he often tries to sooth himself with a cassette recording of static white noise that plays for five minutes before resetting itself. It works, for the most part.
Sample Post: "This is Addendum 1-A." A voice began. It was deep, and rough, like sandpaper. The lights in the room illuminating what was once the dark confines of the geometric and square box. "Subject is Harmon Rottlage, male, early twenties in age." the voice continued. "I'm going to ask you a series of questions, which I will require you to answer to the best of your ability." The voice instructed. "Once we are finished, we will move on to the next part of the examination. If you pass, you will be free to go."
Harmon merely cradled his head, not responding verbally.
"First question. Memory based. How did you commute from your place of residency to this location?"
Harmon shook his head, grunting softly. "Didn't..." He started, "Didn't... c̶o͝mm̷ut̀è... t-t-they came and carried me through the doors the halls this room..."
The voice was silent for a second, very slight movement and breathing could be heard on the other side of the intercom, as if the owner of the voice was recording what he had said by hand. "Next question. Two parts." It stated. "Where did they carry you from, and how long have you been there?"
Harmon's head lowered onto the table, still being held by his spindly fingers. "Dead... Dead... Dead End... month... here... m̷̛o͘͝nt̡͠h̢̧... H̸̨͡E̡͘͟͠R̡̧̡̛͞E̶̴̴͝͞..." Harmon's voice began to reverberate off the walls as he trailed off between the two words. He got up from the table, still cradling his head, nearly shouting, "Ḿ͡O̷̕̕͜͝N͟͝T̢͞H̶҉̨̛͞Ḩ̢́̕E͟R͡E̶̴̷M̸ỚN̶̡͏͟T̢̨͘͏̧H̕͢͜͠͡H̴͘҉E͏̸͝R̴̶͠͠͠E̢̨͜͡Ḿ҉̷͝O̷͢͟͝Ń͘͢T͏͏̡̕͠H̀͘͜͠͝H̶̸̢̛E͠͡͠Ŕ̨̡̨͡È̴́҉-̴̀͟҉̧"
There was more shuffling.
"I must ask you to calm yourself, otherwise the test will be discontinued." It stated. "Final question of Addendum 1-A, do you recall your family's name, and your own?"
Harmon was calm now, seated once again. He was slumped in his chair, his hood down. His head was shifting slightly, ripples surrounding it as he began to speak, breathing heavily between his words. "H̕-H͡a̛r҉.̕.̴.... Hmmmm... Harmon... Rrrr... R-R... Rott... Lage... Rottlage... Harmon... Rottlage..." He stopped there, only answering half the question.
The voice was silent for a few more moments before more shuffling could be heard. "Concluding Addendum 1-A. Beginning Addendum 1-B." it stated. Typing could be heard in the background, and a few seconds later the lights went dark, and when they came back on, three panels int he floor and arisen up, with guns trained upon him. Each one was a different color. Red, green, and blue respectively. "The guns are nonlethal." the voice stated. "Only one, the green, is loaded. It is currently loaded with airsoft pellets firing at 200FPS. Enough to hurt, but not enough to break skin." it continued. "This test requires you to short circuit the turret, and display any new potential developed in the past month in doing so." The voice finished. "You have thirty seconds to completely the task. Begin."
Harmon immediately ducked under the table and cradled himself, knees planted and forehead pressed against the metal floor. He made a sound comparable to a distorted scream before taking one long breath, and muttering to himself, "IdwelledinthekeepoftheunwaveringandtheomniscientwhereuponIsawhorrorthetruesthorror-"
"Twenty seconds."
"Thedarkenedcladchainedmetothewallsandfloorsandcielingsandboremewitnesstoakingdomofnospokentruthandnovisionoffreedom-"
"Ten seconds."
"IleftthathorridplaceandfellinafieldofsunflowerstwistedbythedreamsofadarkcanalinfestedwithsmilingchildrenandbrokenhyenaaaaaaaaAAAA
AAAAA͠A̸A̶̛A͜͏A̷A҉A̢͝AÀ͏͜A̷̵̕Á͜͞A͟͏A͠A̧̡̕͡͠A̢̨̕͟A҉̨̛͞A͡͞A̧̡͢͞A҉̶̡͜A̶̧A̢͞͝A̢̡̧̕͠A͞À̴̸͡A̸͏Á̧͜͏A̴͢͟͟͡A̵̷̡̕A҉͏Ą̷́͡A̴̡A͟͠-"
All three of the turrets began to twist and turn on their hinges, turning towards each other. The red and blue ones, clicks sounded from with their mechanisms. The green one fired off its airsoft rounds, bouncing off the hulls of the other two before all three of them began to emit sparks, flashes of yellow falling to the floor, small cracks and static currents resonating between them before, almost all at once, they lowered, inoperable. Harmon was still on the floor, now silent.
The lights shut off, and everything was silent for a moment. There wasn't even any shuffling from the voice. The intercom's current had been stopped. A few seconds later a door opened, revealing a monstrous creature who's outline was illuminated by the bright white lights that contrasted with the darkness inside the room.
"Diagnosis," he said, his huge reptilian body falling still for a split moment, releasing a deep breath. "One week of funded mental therapy, up to subject if it will be continued, with regulatory grooming." he stated. "But subject has passed examination, scoring 62 out of 100 total points." he stated, walking inside and leaving the door open to provide some light until the system rebooted. With one hulking arm he lifted the table and moved it away, and with the other gently looping his forarm underneath Harmon's armpit and gingerly picking him up. The creature knelt down on one knee to Harmon's height, and grabbed the meta by the shoulders, ever so lightly shaking him. "You passed, Harmon." He stated. "We're going to get you help."
"Don't..." He replied, breathing heavily, "Don't... pluck... don't..."
If he had eyes, he'd be sobbing.
"Dont worry. You wont feel a thing. I've got you. You're safe."
"Don't..." He trailed off, mumbling silently to himself.
The agent didn't respond, instead he rose to his feet, and slowly escorted Harmon out of the testing room, moving at the agent's pace and attempting to be as gentle as possible with him. They disappeared out of the room, into the bright white light, and took a left moving to god knows where in the NEST base.
OP
Evil Ghost Note I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU
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I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU
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Luminous Beings Not Greg.
Member
Seen
8 mos ago
Name: Holly Gabrielle Baless
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Ellie, Angel
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Height: 5’5
Weight: 120
Home District:
Appearance
Hair Color: A dirty blonde.
Eye Color: Blue
Ethnicity: Holly is ½ Russian and ½ German.
Physical Appearance:
Holly, visibly, is one of those goody two shoes girls. A natural beauty, her form is complemented by taking good care of herself and proper attention to her skin and hair and such. This, however, is not to be mistaken with vanity, which Holly would never do. No, she comes off as presentable, and one considers that if Holly really put forth the effort, she would be that much prettier.
In a hilarious contrast to her personality, Holly’s form is soft. She’s slightly curvy, and while she plays sports she doesn’t have the incredibly toned physique that very serious athletes are blessed with. Holly’s face has a faint splash of freckles on her cheeks and her ears taper just a bit, almost elfish. Her smile, the result of many years of braces and flossing twice every night, is radiant, and it’s nearly always on her face. She’ll have laugh lines before she’s twenty. Ellie’s posture is ramrod straight, and she moves briskly-always rushing somewhere, always purposeful. Ellie tends to look someone straight in the eyes as she speaks to them, a trait that can unnerve some. Her appearance does radiate energy, however-whether it’s the smiling or the hurried nature of her movements, she’s always giving off an impression of purpose, of having something to do and being excited about it.
Holly’s nose is a bit upturned, giving an innocent touch to her features, and between her modest dress and general cheeriness, she doesn’t come off as sexualized or seeking romantic attention. She tends to sit regally, folding her legs under her as she’s nearly always wearing a skirt.
Attire:
Holly dresses nicely but not gaudily. One might describe her wardrobe as a little stiff-she usually wears skirts and nice blouses, but occasionally a dress. She’s fond of bright colors and clothes that give off warmth and energy-she brings out black only for the funerals. She likes heels because they give her an extra boost to her height.
Personality
Personality:
God bless Holly. There are a lot of Bible-thumping types out there, and Holly is among them. However, to her credit, she practices what she preaches. While many disagree with her beliefs, or the fervor with which she holds them, one can’t say that Holly isn’t a kind indivudal. Altruistic and caring, she is hardworking, dedicated, and determined. She’s also annoying as hell to a lot of people, but most will grudgingly admit respect for her dedication to her faith.
I mention Holly’s faith first because it truly is at the core of her being-in all things, Holly sees God/her faith. Holly’s uncompromising stance on morality and ethics is a deterrent to a great many people: she’s not very wise on which battles she should choose and which sleeping dogs she should just let lie. Her own adherence to her beliefs brings up strong feelings of guilt and compulsion in Holly: she’s a harsh critic of herself, and despite her outward confidence and security, often struggles with her own morality and faith at times.
Holly, however, does have a strong belief in God and the inherent goodness of people-her idealism is nigh unshakable. Holly’s altruistic and has racked up a few thousand community service hours over the course of her life. While sometimes abrupt and judgmental, her heart is in the right place. She eagerly encourages others to attend church, convert, etc, out of a desire to help them. She’s often confused as to why people are annoyed by this or agitated by her repeated insistences: Holly’s not the best at taking hints. Holly’s also pretty bad at politics, and can walk into pretty obvious social traps at times. She’s headstrong and unflinching-she’s not one to run away from fights and not one to stand by quietly. Holly’s caused quite a number of little controversies, and her group of loyal friends is fairly small as a result. Again, good intentions, sweet girl-just a bit lost concerning how to go about doing it.
Holly is also not entirely in touch with her sexuality. She has never had a boyfriend and generally considers herself to be far too busy to bother with silly things like boys. She looks down a bit on girls who throw themselves at boys and abhors public displays of affection. How tasteless! She’s very traditional with most of her beliefs-she’s pro life, disapproves of gay marriage (however, she’s not rude to gay people), and is against the legalization of marijuana. Holly, however, is a fairly empathic person, and while her personal opinions on someone’s actions may slip out unintentionally, she’s generally pretty good about trying to be polite if nothing else. She does recognize the weight and severity of abortion, for example, and while she personally doesn’t know what else someone expected from only-for-procreation-sexual-relations, she can sympathize with someone undergoing that struggle.
Her general solution to problems is to tackle them head-on and apply of her energy and focus to one task at a time. She is a perfectionist and a hardworker-two traits that have helped her stay on the honor roll despite her not being the smartest. She’s by no means stupid, but isn’t gifted academically as some are-she has excellent grades, but studies hard for them.
Holly is a pacifist, abhors violence in all its many forms. She also strongly condemns alcohol and drug use-although she’s more neutral about alcohol consumption behind closed doors in one’s home. She finds public intoxication disgusting and doesn’t understand why kids go and get drunk to have fun. Bah! She’s not one to be scared easily (although she often fears for the moral state of this country) and is almost suicidally overconfident in dangerous situations.
Hobbies/Interests:
Holly has a very lovely voice (two guesses as to where she uses it, and the first one doesn’t coutn) and enjoys riding horses. She also likes doing community service, as mentioned above-she has fun working at soup kitchens, picking up trash, so on and so forth. Holly also likes watching TV and movies, but there’s not a whole lot she really approves of. She mostly sticks to cool Disney films and such. Between her younger siblings, activism, and schoolwork, she doesn’t have much time to do a whole lot else. Holly also plays soccer.
Skills/Talents:
She’s a Biblical scholar, and is extremely determined and hardworking, which are two skills that will take someone further than most others will. Holly’s also skilled at organizing and getting things done. She’s not a leader in the super charismatic “I can talk you into doing anything” way, but her headstrong confidence and no-holds-barred enthusiasm is certainly inspiring.
Prized Possession:
Probably her rosary.
Quote(s):
“Lovely day today! God bless!”
Family:
Two parents (father is a minister, mother was a missionary but now stays at home) and three little brothers.
Relationships
[Character name] | [Impression (Good/Bad/Neutral]] | [Relationship (Friend, Rival, Crush, etc)] | [Character's thoughts [EX: I think Bob is quite the amiable fellow, has a great head on his shoulders, wouldn't want anyone else on my side]] |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Super-System
Power:
Yea, for in those days men shall know fear, and its name shall be Ellie.
Holly’s power is intertwined with her faith. Now, her power isn’t actually mandated by God-however, she views it as such, and through her faith, to her it is holy. This is pretty integral to understanding the rest of it.
Holly is capable of producing and manipulating holy energy-this is primarily in a few set ways.
St. Elmo’s Fire. Holly is able to conjure St. Elmo’s fire, a flame which does not burn. It is, however, incredibly bright-if Holly is going all-out, it is painful to look upon her. Instead of a harsh heat, it gives off a reassuring warmth. Her flames have mostly positive effects: they are a purifying force. Poisons and toxins are eliminated around her (this also includes lactic acid buildup: those in her immediate vicinity will be reinvigorated, and this also explains some of her constant enthusiasm) as is doubt and fear. She’s a rallying presence: while her flames can’t harm anyone, they bolster those around her. The flames are a strong protective force-while she’s not invulnerable, they do make her much more durable, and the flames shrug off psychic attacks. One cannot speak lies or cast illusions in the presence of the fire as well. Now, to clarify, she’s not throwing around this stuff Avatar-style. Instead, she draws up her power and essentially becomes a corona of intense light-St. Elmo’s fire, like a halo, gathers around her head, shoulders, and arms. If she lays her hands upon someone, she can confer it to them for a brief while, but it will eventually flicker and fade out if separated from her. The extreme intensity of the light varies depending on who sees it-those allied with Holly or fighting with her are not affected as harshly, but any who are fighting against her may have difficulty maintaining eye contact. It is really fucking bright. In the immediate presence of the fire, feelings of guilt and remorse become more pronounced, and many feel physically comfortable as a result.
Healing. Holly is also a very capable healer, and while the hospitals are leery of letting her near patients, Holly is an adept healer. Her fire dispels bacteria and toxins, which is generally helpful. She’s able to channel some of her energy into someone else to infuse them with quintessence-“life force”. This process is basically a pure injection of stem cells into someone’s body, along with replenishing and balancing out the materials the body needs to work with. Holly can’t bring back the dead or cure certain conditions, but she’s a potent healer, and is a valuable ally for anyone with a tendency to get hurt a lot.
Luck. Holly does not have anything drastic like luck manipulation, or the kind of extreme luckiness that would come with having luck as a primary power, but she’s certainly got a lucky streak. She attributes this to her being rewarded for her faith-regardless of whether or not this is true, things do seem to work out her way fairly often.
Holly also displays a strange immunity to "Power" powers-her powers can't be replicated or fiddled with by other metahumans. She attributes this to her powers being something more than mere metahuman.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
First and foremost, none of her powers can be used to directly harm another. She can’t burn anyone with the fire or anything. She can maybe mess up your night vision for a couple hours but that’s about it. Holly’s also a pacifist, which is considered by most to a severe psychological weakness, known by psychiatrists as “bein’ a lil bitch”.
Second, while others focus to use their powers, Holly goes off faith. If her faith is wavering or she’s shaken up emotionally, she may be unable to use her abilities. As such, if she feels she’s acting against the way things are meant to be, her powers may not function at all.
Finally, if she draws blood, she can’t use her powers until she’s cleansed herself entirely.
This is a pretty succinct list of weaknesses, but she’s a pacifist. She will help others in fights but refuses to lift a finger to harm another. Her very easily manipulated honor and fairly predictable tendency to do help others regardless of how foolhardy it is are also pretty considerable weaknesses in and of themselves.
Her immunity to "Power" powers also means she cannot reap from any of the benefits of those "Power" powers.
Other: None.
Sample Post:
“Language!” Ellie chided, kneeling down beside the half-dead man. His hands were clutched to his chest, which was a bloody, ripped up mess. “Can you hear me?” Ellie asked, taking his soaked, trembling hands with her own.
“Agh! Fuck! Yes…I…”
“Sh. Quiet. It’s okay.” Ellie’s voice was soothing, almost musical-there was a certain tone of absolute assurance in her voice that did help to calm the man, helped to assuage a bit of the shock he was undergoing. The man’s body was shaking and shivering. Ellie briefly considered calling the paramedics but figured he wouldn’t make it waiting for them. Well, when there was not a way amongst men, there was a way with God. “Sh. It’s alright. Lord. Please be with this man. Please help him.”
Ellie, softly, began to glow, a faint light dancing from around her head to her shoulders to her hands. With each passing second she began to glow a bit more, St. Elmo’s fire finally coursing smoothly and softly down her arms and onto the almost-cadaver before her. He groaned for a moment, perhaps out of pure shock, but he quickly relaxed: his pain was…gone? That couldn’t be right. Was he dead? This bitch was a weird looking angel.
Ellie continued to murmur softly to herself, her face strained with contortion. The more severe the energy, the more effort it took on Ellie’s part. Well, that was a bit of a misstatement-Ellie wasn’t doing very much here, no, not very much at all. She was a mere conduit, the messenger. She was glowing in earnest now, a swathe of the empty parking lot bright as day, and yet to the man (who was feeling quite alright now-he had sensations of warmth in his toes again, which he hadn’t realized he’d lost) before her it was a mild, gentle glow. A few moments passed-perhaps a whole minute. It was so easy to lose track of time.
Ellie gasped for air and opened her eyes-they were glassy and dilated, out of focus and hazy. The flames around her dimmed a bit and she blinked a few times, coming to her senses. “Do you feel better now?” she asked, looking down at her patient. The wounds in his chest were sealed-there was still blood all over the place, and he would want to avoid any strenuous activity for a little while, but he would make it. “We should probably call the…the…umm….”
“911?”
“Yes, them,” Ellie said. “Sorry. Whew.” Ellie stood up and offered the man her hand. It took a moment to convince himself he was capable of it, but he woozily stood back up, feeling rather alright. A few pieces of metal fell to the ground as he did so, and it took Ellie a moment to realize they were bullets. He’d been shot!
“Goodness! You’ve been shot? Who shot you? Should we call the police? Where did they go?” Ellie scanned the nearby parking lot, but it was futile-it was dark, now, and she hadn’t seen any nefarious types running past she walked by. A funny coincidence, really, that she’d been over here. Her car had broken down and she was walking to go get a pay phone, as Ellie generally didn’t believe in using cell phones, and she stumbled across this poor denizen of The Dead End.
“No, no, don’t call the police, that’s, uh, that’s-“
“Why not? Surely you want to see justice done!”
“Well. Um. I’m real thankful for what you did, I mean real thankful, but, um, that’s…that’s not…”
Ellie’s brow furrowed as she looked up at the man. This parking lot certainly did seem seedy-not at all the sort of place an upstanding citizen would wish to traverse at this hour of the night. Of course, Ellie, herself an upstanding citizen, was only here at this hour of the night because of her youth group and an unfortunate car breakdown, but that was hardly the point. Hardly the point at all. “Sir, might I inquire as to what you were doing here that led up to your…condition?”
The man stayed quiet for a moment and nervously took a step back, a clear look of guilt on his face. “Um. Look. Let’s just say the cops being called would, uh, not benefit either part-“
Ellie reached forward and opened up the man’s jacket, prompting a furious “Hey!” from him. Standing about half a foot beneath him, and easily a hundred pounds less, this was perhaps the most one-sided mugging in history. Ellie drew out a sizable bag of what she could only presume was marijuana-she, admittedly, wasn’t actually sure.
“Ugh! You would throw your life away over this?” she shook the bag angrily. “Why, I would still have saved you had I known this was the…the…”
“Look, I’m real appreciative, but that bag cost me a lot of-“
“It will cost you far more than money!” Ellie said defiantly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her form beginning to glow faintly, and then with increasingly intensity.
“No! No wait-“
After a few seconds buildup, she burst into St. Elmo’s fire once more, the flames running down and devouring the marijuana-one could, perhaps, make an argument that they were not toxins, but Ellie believed them to be, and that sufficed-in a second or two. Nothing but a bag of ashes remained, and Ellie’s form gradually dimmed. She returned the bag to the man with a look of righteous fury upon her face. “I hope you reconsider your life choices, sir! You are on a very dark path. Violence! Drugs! Where do you think you would’ve wound up had I not happened across you lying there a few moments ago?”
The man, visibly freaked about by this girl, stammered. “Um. I don’t know. Nowhere?”
“Far worse than nowhere, sir! Far worse! I may not be there next time for you, but you should consider befriending someone who will be!” Ellie opened up her satchel and drew out a Bible, one of many she tended to carry on her and distribute throughout the day. “Good evening to you.” She turned and stormed off, taking a few deep breaths as she did so. Ugh. Bleh. Doing the work of the Lord was always rewarding, but sometimes she questioned if these sorts even paid attention to her.
Ellie stormed out of the parking lot, leaving a rather confused and alarmed drug dealer behind.
“Well at least she didn’t get the crystal.”
Luminous Beings Not Greg.
Member
Seen
8 mos ago
Name:
Cordelia Lynn Holmes
Nickname/Alias/Etc:
Lynn. Cord. Delly, only by a select few. You will get your ass torn into six separate parts if you are not one of those select few.
Gender:
Female.
Age:
21.
Height:
5’5
Weight:
110 lbs
Home District:
The Dead End.
Appearance
Hair Color:
Dark brown-“raven colored”.
Eye Color:
Blue. A lighter shade.
Ethnicity:
Caucasian. Unknown descent.
Physical Appearance:
Lynn’s a little ball of hellfire and it radiates from her every pore. A small, thin girl, her personality seems almost too big for her frame, and it hovers around her like an aura. Standing near her, you can almost telepathically hear her saying “Fuck you. If Lynn died, and you tore open her body to examine her, it would be written across her heart: “GO FUCK YOURSELF”
Lynn’s never really been one to give two fucks about her appearance. Any fucks she does have are being diverted towards more important issues. She’s not homely, but she’s not what most would consider beautiful either. Lynn’s face is round and on the pale side, her lips grey and usually pretty chapped. She has a small, slightly crooked nose as a result of an old break and a stud through the right side. She also has a single stud on her right ear-no hanging earrings, Lynn saw a girl get her earlobe ripped off like that. And by “saw” I mean “had a real close view”.
Lynn’s body is not quite disturbingly thin, but it’s clear she’s missed a few meals she probably couldn’t afford to. Her ribs poke at her chest and there’s not much body fat on her frame. Lynn’s cheeks are slightly, just barely, hollow, and she often wears clothes that are a little warmer than is strictly necessary. Her teeth are slightly misaligned, but not anything too terrible, and she has a tongue piercing. Lynn’s face is normally locked into a permanent scowl, one that makes Marines get uneasy and cops call for backup. Her posture is ramrod straight, eyes staring defiantly out at whatever dumb soon-to-be-dickless motherfucker decided to look back. She moves with a purpose and is the sort who will bump into you rather than move out of the way. She will proceed to bark at you: “Watch it!” with any given expletive attached.
Lynn’s voice is somehow tainted by her personality. She’s never been one to smoke a whole lot, so it can’t be the occasional cigarette that makes her voice a little raspy. It’s something about the cold cynicism that is normally pouring off her tongue that makes her voice harsher and sharper than it truly is. Lynn does not pull any verbal punches and her tone of voice is nearly always a brutal, curt bark, if not a fully aggressive snarl. She has never once been mistaken for dainty.
Her body is also covered with a fair amount of tattoos. On her right shoulder, stretching down her arm sleeve-style (I’m probably fucking up all these terms I know nothing about tattoos) is a rendering of the angel of death, while the other arm proudly displays a phoenix, alight with colorless fire, stretching down to about halfway down her arm. Across her shoulder blades the text “DEAD END KINGS” is emblazoned, with the four horsemen of the apocalypse riding out across the rest of her back set against an apocalyptic BACKdrop (BAHAHAHAHA). Her forearms have a fair number of scars, none of which appear to be self-inflicted. There’s a teardrop tattoo under her right eye.
Attire:
What you’d expect from your average street rat’s ensemble. She has a Black Falls All-Stars ballcap on most of the time, usually turned backwards with her hair in a ponytail. She normally wears a wifebeater or a graphic t-shirt of some sort, with a baggy hoodie over it. Ratty jeans complete the look.
Personality
Personality:
Lynn takes shit from no one. No one. This is the component of her psyche that explains all the rest. She is fierce, protective, determined, and territorial. What Lynn may lack in raw physical power, privileged upbringing, or education, she makes up for with raw willpower. Her spirit is indomitable-this is a trait that has brought her more suffering than perhaps anything else.
Where to begin? Lynn has learned from a hard upbringing of what you can expect from the world: and that is absolutely nothing on a good day. If you don’t get out there and get it for yourself, no one’s getting it for you. Lynn’s cold and pragmatic, with a brutal attitude to reflect the harsh social conditions she faces to survive. There’s no one else. No backup, no cavalry. Lynn handles shit how she sees fit and pays very little respect to any authority. Any intrusions on Lynn’s honor are met with fierce reprisals. The message is very clear-Lynn does not fuck around. Those who have mistaken the small girl for a doormat have paid rather dearly for it. Lynn does not have many problems justifying her actions-she needs that guy’s wallet. She finds it easy to rationalize her actions and, as such, on the rare occasions that Lynn really stops and reflects on herself (something she tries not to do too often), she’s often frightened by what she sees.
Lynn is not needlessly cruel. Callous and aloof, yes, but not malicious. Granted, if you fuck her over, she will bury you. However, Lynn doesn’t go out of her way to cause conflict (at least in her eyes she doesn’t-she often escalates problems, but admittedly doesn’t start them very often. Okay that’s a lie. She starts them.) and is willing to help others when she’s given an opportunity to do so without looking soft or causing too much expense to herself. Lynn’s barely making it by, paycheck-to-paycheck. She has no resources to donate to charity and no damned time to spend helping other people. Nobody helped her, why should she return the favor?
Lynn’s morality is focused about preservation and loyalty. To those whom she feels loyal, Lynn is respectful and considerate. Lynn’s not one to go along with something just because it’s a rule (Or a law, for that matter). She’s defiant of authority, deeply suspicious, and a quintessential skeptic. Lynn is very rarely fooled, because she very rarely extends her trust to anyone. Borderline paranoid, Lynn’s hypervigilance keeps her a few steps away from a nervous wreck, but it keeps her alive. Lynn’s surrogate family is treated with incredible loyalty-given that she has no one else, she latches on very firmly to those whom she does open up to. She is slow to make bonds but once they are made, she does not cast them aside lightly. Lynn is the sort you may be ashamed to take to a formal dinner, but would want whenever someone started being a dick to you.
Her hard exterior masks a hard interior, albeit one with patches of softness. She has a particular emotional weakness for little girls-seeing herself in them, Lynn often tries to be kind to them and try and encourage them away from a life like hers if possible. She’s also lenient towards fathers and mothers for the same reason. Lynn avoids crime that actively harms others if she can. Lynn’s on a dark path, but she’s not an inherently evil person. She’s someone who’s willing to do what’s necessary, whatever that may be. While she did not receive much in the way of education, Lynn is by no means an idiot-she is smart, clever, and cunning. Many have mistaken her less-than-stellar grammar and vocabulary for idiocy. She’s sharp, and with a few more years of schooling, might’ve been able to make something of herself. Shoulda, coulda, woulda.
Lynn’s code of honor is…flexible, shall we say. She has no qualms with lying, stealing, or backstabbing, but, generally, can be expected to hold true to her word. If she makes a promise, you can trust it. Lynn’s not one to back down from a challenge and has a proud streak. She’s also very cynical and tends to expect-and prepare for-the worst in any given situation. Lynn is the killjoy. She has extreme difficulty apologizing. She often tends to compartmentalize her problems or outright ignore them. Lynn’s belief that she doesn’t have time to address her emotional issues will cost her dearly one day. Just not today.
Hobbies/Interests:
Lynn is a skilled artist and not bad at rapping. She prefers activities that bear some practical benefit to her. Drawing helps with her job (tattoo artist). Whittling helps her handle a knife. Running helps her with running. She has also attempted to teach herself some basic school courses but is making slow progress.
Skills/Talents:
Lynn is an absolutely brutal street fighter. I’m not dismissing martial arts, but I am stating that Lynn has fucked up some black belts pretty badly. She fights with zero holds barred with anything on hand, with the ferocity of a rabid mother bear deprived of her cubs. On meth. Her deceptive speed and strength, high pain tolerance, and considerable experience make Lynn-despite her size-more than capable of backing up her trash talk.
Lynn is also familiar with most criminal activities. She has hotwired cars, pickpocketed, picked locks, robbed and burgled, trespassed, run drugs, you name it. She’s got a familiarity with the police of Black Falls and the criminal element there. If you needed to know what was happening on the streets, Lynn would be your girl. She has several contacts, old friends, and can figure out what’s happening pretty easily. Word travels pretty fast.
Lynn is smart. Not like MENSA level or genius, but she’s clever. She will approach her problems with a simple but effective brand of pragmatism: she will do nearly anything to solve her problems. Lynn’s solution are often unexpected but rarely ineffective. She has lots of street smarts and is good at shaking off tails, knowing when she’s being followed, threatening others, and dealing with high-intensity situations. Lynn is not one to lose her cool when shit hits the fan-she reacts quickly and instinctively, and throws together a plan on the fly.
Lynn’s also a good tattoo artist. She’s managed to land a job, despite her absolute lack of credentials, with a really sketch tattoo parlor in The Dead End as a result. She performs pretty well, all things considered.
Lynn is a fast little fucker as well. While not superhumanly fast, she is quick as all hell. She lacks the physical element (read: lived on the streets) to keep up high-endurance chases, but she is agile. Lynn’s had experience climbing fences, darting in and out of crowds, and scaling walls.
Prized Possession:
A small silver locket. Her switchblade.
Quote(s):
“No. Fuck yourself.”
History/Bio:
Let us merely say a meta child kidnapping ring slipped up and Lynn slipped out, lost from her parents. A stint in an orphanage ended messily. Fell in with a gang. Lost a lot of good, close friends. Lost a lot of herself after that. Then she found a little sister-one who claimed to be a sister by blood. She’s been trying to piece together the rest.
Family:
Sister: Olivia “Livvy” Averton
Relationships
[Livvy] [Excellent] “Eh. Good kid. Good kid. Don’t want her to…well. Let’s hope some things don’t run in the family.”
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Super-System, Elemental (Darkness)
Elemental.
Power:
Lynn has a guardian angel and he is terrible. Lynn’s shadow is a supernatural being, one that is hell-bent on guarding her. It is always there. It is always watching. It never rests and never falters. The shadow’s strength and versatility in protecting her are considerable-she is able to fight far above her weight class through it.
Lynn’s shadow possesses extraordinary reflexes and ultimate strength. It is capable of shifting its form to protect her-a shadowy wall to stop a bullet, a multi-armed abomination to stave off multiple attackers, so on and so forth. Lynn’s shadow is also capable of shielding Lynn mentally and emotionally, however it may not defend her physically and psychically simultaneously. The shadow also subtly infuses her with strength. Lynn is not superhumanly strong, but she is more powerful than a 110 lb girl with a history of malnutrition should be able to be. This results in a minor regenerative factor (mostly occupied with staving off any number of health complications Lynn should have from her poor diet and malnutrition) and a boost to her endurance and constitution, enough to function. Lynn’s shadow is sentient and capable of communicating with her if necessary. It can, occasionally, help Lynn with minor matters, but it generally stays dormant unless Lynn is in severe danger. Lynn’s power offers her an affinity to the dark, and as such she can see more clearly at night than most. Lynn's shadow cannot be manipulated by another shadow manipulators, as Lynn could be killed pretty much instantly that way.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks:
Lynn’s shadow can only act if Lynn is in extreme danger. Lynn has thus far managed to remain unlisted by NEST, so any blatant displays of her power will get her ass in some serious trouble. Additionally, her shadow can only function to the range her shadow normally could-so there’s a five or six foot limit to its effective range. Very defensively focused. Finally, the righteous or those acting with pure motives are less affected by Lynn’s abilities. Lynn’s shadow is also in charge of defending her psyche: Lynn remains more or less sane as a result of her gifts, which staves off the more traumatic experiences she’s endured and represses things it deems a threat to her sanity/life. As the shadow is forced to defend her physically, it will divert less attention to her mind, and Lynn will rapidly begin to breakdown until it’s able to fix things.
Other: Lynn is bisexual *nudge nudge Alex nudge nudge*
Lynn also keeps a backpack near her at all times. This backpack is full of emergency supplies. She’s lived out of it for a while when necessary. Inside (if not on her person) is a trusty switchblade, a spare change of clothes, a water bottle, a liquor bottle, some handkerchiefs, a pack of smokes, a flashlight, some bolt cutters, and some cash.
Lynn does not have a full education and, while she is intelligent, may not know much in the way of book-smarts. She has some trouble reading at times.
Sample Post:
“You fucked up my tattoo.”
Lynn kept her back turned. Ass pressed against the counter. Where was he? Sounded a couple feet back. Footsteps. Closer. Close enough to punch. Or stab-he was the rowdy sort. Tall. Thick. Lynn’s eyes, unbeknownst to the unhappy camper behind her, flickered around the parlor. Her bag was a good four or five feet away. Not reached quickly. Switchblade? In her pocket. Eh. Didn’t want to do this the messy way.
“Did you hear me? I said you fucked up my tattoo. You misspelled-“
“I’m going to fuck up your ability to walk if you don’t leave right now,” Lynn muttered, continuing to shuffle through the bills. She felt a tension between hers, the little spine-tickle of imminent conflict. Lynn didn’t shudder or so much as flinch. She merely kept on counting the bills. Fifty six. Fifty seven.
Click.
Ah. That was causing the tingling.
“What the hell did you just say? I’m going to have this for the rest of my-“
Dead End’s best tattoo parlor was kind of like being the best murderer in Cook County Jail. It was cool, but it would be a lot cooler if you weren’t surrounded by other murderers. No, wait, that metaphor doesn’t work. Does it? Well, if it doesn’t work, it’s okay, because neither does ninety percent of Dead End’s population.
Lynn closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. She could, quite honestly, be detailed as not having any fear. She had stopped bullets before. Well, she hadn’t. But someone else had. She glanced down at her shadow-or, more accurately, where her shadow should be. The overhead light, the grimy half-burnt-out fluorescent star, should’ve cast her shadow in front of her. Over the dollar bills she was counting. Over her rough, no-makeup face with the teardrop tattoo.
“Yeah. That sucks. You want your money back?”
Lynn turned around, her face blank and empty. The man noticeably shifted a bit-not many people react with nonchalance to the unhappy end of a 9 millimeter. “No! I…yes! Do you understand what you’ve done? I-“
“Put the gun down. Get out. No refunds.”
He went to click the hammer back again for dramatic effect-but he already had. Lynn smirked. Damned amateur. Too many movies. Lynn didn’t watch many movies. Movies were usually dumb. Too long and hard to follow and shit.
“That’s how you’re going to-“
“I don’t like guns being focused on me. And you are sure as hell not going to like me being focused on you. So leave. Last chance.”
There are a lot of people who don’t understand violence. They question why people go to war, why people are driven to murder and rape and kill. These people, in a word, are weak. This is not to say any of those things are particularly justified or ethically in the right. But if you hand a man a knife in a sheath sooner or later he’ll take it out to see what it looks like. And sooner or later he’ll run the blade gently along his hand to see what it feels like. And sooner or later he’ll find a reason to take it out and tear apart a zip tie or a cardboard box or some minor inconvenience, he’ll find some reason to utterly annihilate something. And sooner or later, he might just do the same to a person.
The gun was trembling in the mistattooed man’s hands. Lynn blinked.
She threw the money and he pulled the trigger. Lynn flinched, reflexively-one of the few reflexes she hadn’t been able to hammer out, despite her best efforts to bury those damning expressions of fear and weakness. Bills fluttered. Gunpowder smoke. A hand of pure darkness was holding the bullet. Then another slapped the gun out of the man’s hands, knocking it clear across the parlor.
It the wall and split in half.
Lynn slowly slid over the bar and walked over to the man, who perhaps wisely took a few steps back, pale eyes wide and face a few shades lighter than normal. “Wh-you’re-you’re one-“
Lynn brought her knee up into his groin and, perhaps a second later, brought her fists into the man’s kidneys. Groaning, he sunk down, one hand fumbling for a knife or a phone or it didn’t matter. Lynn brought her knee up again into his nose, an unnatural crunch coming from his something or another, Lynn didn’t know shit about anatomy. Clutching at his nose Lynn cupped her fists together and swung it, hammer style, against his left ear.
He fell over. Lynn’s hand snaked down slowly to her pants pocket and pulled out a switchblade, which she flipped out with instinctual ease. “Look at me.”
A half muffled sob. A bloody nasal groan.
“I did not ask. Look. At. Me.” Lynn kicked him in the gut and the man’s eyes looked up.
“I’m not one of them. Am I?”
The man whimpered but refused to give an answer. Ugh. Lynn knelt down, moving with the leisurely ease of someone tending to flowers in the garden. She placed the tip of the knife against the man’s crotch, pressing down slowly but with increasing force. “Look at me. Am I one of them?”
“No! No! You’re not! You’re not I swear you’re-“
“Listen. I have your name and I know what you look like. If anyone comes by asking anything about me do you know what I will do?”
The man shook his head, a two-parts blood, one-part mucus, one-part tears solution running down his blotchy face.
“I will go to prison. Probably for a very long time. But first. I will find you.” Lynn turned the blade out and punched the man square in the groin. “Now get the fuck out of here. If I ever see you-and I mean if I ever see you-passing in the street, getting food at Burger King, I will kill you. In broad daylight. In front of your pissant kids, your cocksucking mother. I will put you on speaking terms with God with this knife.” Lynn stood up and kicked him one final time, feeling the cathartic bloodrush of violence. It suppressed the legitimate fear he’d go running off to NEST. That fear takes its toll. Coupled with Lynn’s less than stellar childhood, it tended to leave her prone to the occasional outburst.
“Now get out before you piss yourself and leave me with a mess to clean up. And be sure to tell your friends about us. Word of mouth is important.” The man, after a moment or two, gathered himself up into a hunched over walk that resembled a mobile fetal position. He staggered out, ideally never to be seen again.
When he was a good ways out Lynn went and turned over the “OPEN” sign. Then she went into the back room and punched the wall until her knuckles split open. Then she just sat in the dark for a couple minutes shaking like a motherfucker. Then she washed her hands off and bandaged up her hand and went back out and turned the sign around and sat back down behind the parlor to keep earning minimum wage for the rest of the day.
Luminous Beings Not Greg.
Member
Seen
8 mos ago
Name: Selena Wodan Chilver
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Tally (short for Tallymark).
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Height: 5'8
Weight: 150 lbs
Status:
Appearance
Hair Color: Platinum blonde or a dark hazel. Yeah, I'll get to it later.
Eye Color: Brown.
Ethnicity: She is 1/4th Greek, 1/4th Italian, and 1/2 Cherokee.
Physical Appearance:
To address the immediate question-how the hell is someone of Selena's lineage platinum blonde-I will address that later.
Selena's a visibly tough girl. She's pretty, but tough. Consider a whitewater river, coursing with too much force to possibly try and raft down. Or a mother bear eviscerating the dumbass tourist who wanted a picture of her cub. This is Selena. Magnificent to behold, terrifying to be held by. She's in excellent shape-she's not bulky enough to be a bodybuilder but not thin enough to be a runner. Selena's athletic, and while she's not butch or masculine, she has a firm physique and some visible muscle. She moves calmly and with focus-as strange as that may sound, it aptly describes her. She walks with the poise of someone who's entirely relaxed but ready for what's coming-as if she's expecting trouble to come her way, but not necessarily afraid of it. Selena tends to move in a way that may be considered self-assured or arrogant-she's fond of holding eye contact when she speaks, and her general posture and mannerisms almost seem to subtly suggest she considers herself to be dominant or superior. Selena has a nice smile, but she doesn't show it off very frequently-she prefers a faint grin, just a notch or two above absolute calm. Selena's hands are callused, with a fair amount of faint scars and nicks on her knuckles and one or two on her arms. She's not one to use much makeup, and has a fair amount of natural beauty-if she put a bit of work towards it, she could be gorgeous, but as is, she's a diamond that's still in the rough. Her face is heart shaped, with a small round chin and slightly higher, slightly prominent cheekbones. Her skin tone is a blend of a Mediterranean olive tone, the more reddish complexion of her Cherokee heritage, and the tan of many an hour spent outside. Suffice to say she sunburns very rarely. Her eyebrows are angled a bit sharply and thin, a dark color (that lightens slightly, in sync with her hair, but not very much). Her eyes are a warm brown and seem to have a few speckles of green. Her forehead is average sized, perhaps a bit small. Her mouth is a little small but her lips are full, a light pink.
Selena's voice is a bit breathy, a tiny bit raspy-nothing so severe as "I used to be a smoker" commercials, but she doesn't have the higher pitches that most girls have. It's nothing close to butch or gruff, but she's a few notes lower than most of her teenage girl compatriots. She's also not one to laugh often-you'll normally get a bemused grin out of her, or perhaps a chuckle. When she does laugh all the way, it's an uncontrollable belly laugh, a very unladylike guffaw. Her anger, however, is far more quick to surface. Well, perhaps anger isn't the right word-she gets a fire in her eyes and her posture shifts-chin juts out a bit, the same grin a shark gives a slow fish appears on her lips, and she normally goes through a handful of routine tics. Her fingers dance and curl up into fists then relax a few times. She rolls her wrists around. Trigger fingers twitch. Casually stretching out the hamstrings for a sprint.
Her hair is also interesting-it's in sync with the phases of the moon. At a new moon, her hair is dark hazel. The closer it gets to being full, the lighter it turns, becoming platinum blonde and then glowing a faint silver during the nights of a full moon-after which it begins to dim back to brown. The cycle repeats. Her hair is about shoulder length and she has several dreadlocks-neat, well-maintained ones, not like nappy fat ones. When hunting or doing physical activities she normally pins it back in a ponytail to keep it clear and out of the way.
Attire:
Selena dresses pragmatically. She's more used to colder, woodsy environments, so she prefers utility and durability over fashion. You can normally count on several shirts for layering, normally earth tones. She's fond of camouflage jackets or a rugged, leather/shearling coat. Jeans or khaki-style jeans tucked into scuffed and scarred boots normally do the trick. She likes comfy wool socks and this nice leather belt she got for Christmas a couple of years back-it's etched out with a lot of different scenes you can't really see without an up-close look, and if you did that, Selena would probably slap you for sticking your face in her lady area. Tsk tsk. A little class goes a long way, friend.
Personality
Outward & Innate Personality:
Selena is a huntress. This encompasses all aspects of her psyche-she is honorable, competitive, territorial, fierce, assertive, and reliable. Selena is by no means a bad person-she is a little lacking in social graces, which can often convey the impression of her being a bitch, and her difficulty in walking away from a challenge tends to make enemies, but she's not malicious. She's had her fair share of misinterpreted comments, and her lack of fashion sense can often cause her to butt heads with those who are more socially aware/stylistically inclined. Selena's somewhat judgmental-rather harshly, she doesn't tend to forgive easily, and someone who acts like a douche or lies very rarely regains any sort of respect in her eyes. She has burned a fair amount of bridges in the past this way.
Selena's competitive, as mentioned before. Proud, Selena enjoys friendly competition and especially winning. However, that being said, honor is another component of her personality-she is not only a terrible liar, she's averse to it. To Selena, there is no joy in cheating to secure a victory or lying to secure a happiness. Selena's abruptness and upfrontness often lead her to not understanding the nuances of social scenarios or the intricacies of situations-she can very easily miss subtleties that extroverts notice with no effort at all. Her pride and honor often make her squirm when forced to be quiet about something-Selena's never one to back down from a challenge, and often has trouble picking her battles. She has trouble allowing short-term losses for long-term successes.
Selena's an outdoorsy sort. She loves nature in any form-rock climbing, hiking, hunting, swimming, boating, mountain biking. The wild calls to her, and she can only tolerate being stuck inside a classroom or building for so long. Her eyes wander, and she always sits next to the window, always finds the balcony or way to the roof of a building first. Not to say Selena doesn't have a more mellow side to her-secretly, she has a few passions that she's rather embarassed to be public about. She's pretty good with yarn and enjoys making scarves and whatnot. Selena also likes to write poetry, as well as do sketches. She also loves bubble baths but will never admit this to anyone, under pain of death.
Selena's rather harsh on herself. Ambitious and headstrong, she has trouble admitting when she's gotten herself in too deep and isn't one to ask for help very often. She detests apologizing as well, even when she knows she's wrong. However, her desire to set things right normally outweighs her shame. Selena can more readily admit when she's been beaten-while she doesn't like losing, she has a very healthy respect for competition and her rivals (whom, oftentimes, don't realize they are her rivals). Selena's also somewhat hindered in the romance department-she understands fighting and competing and all but is at a total loss with flirting. Watching Selena try to flirt in comparison to her running a race or hunting something is almost hysterical-she's got no clue what she's doing and not very sure how to act on it. There are usually two extremes with this-Selena is hilariously. She often winds up "friendzoning" herself, and her physical prowess and competitive nature tend to scare off most guys. She can be rather lonely, and yearns for friendship and relationships more than she lets on.
She also gets stage fright.
Hobbies/Interests: Anything outdoors. Hunting, fishing, falconry, whittling, sketches, poetry. She likes hiking and wandering around exploring places. Any form of physical activities. Challenges and competitions.
Skills/Talents: She's an excellent huntress. Selena is a skilled tracker and pretty adept at most wildernessy, survivaly activities. Most people who know her think of her whenever that "who would you want to be stuck on a desert island with" question comes around. She's very good at moving about quietly and camouflaging herself. Selena's a skilled markswoman, whether with a long rifle or bow (she's not quite as good with handguns). She has no martial arts training, but has been in a few scuffles and knows how to handle herself in a fight. Selena's also quite good with animals, and able to sniff out a liar fairly easily. She's in excellent condition physically and has a high pain threshold.
Prized Possession: Selena's not a materialistic person, overall. However, she has a small retinue of items that she treasures dearly. These include her leather coat I mentioned earlier, her bow, her boots, and her knife. She loves her motorcycle Also, her teddy bear. Shhh.
Quote(s): (Selena clamps her hand over your mouth as you ask for a quote and points at a nightingale that just fluttered down and landed nearby. She forgets about you and watches it curiously for a little while.)
History/Bio:
Selena's mother left at an early age-her childhood was spent in-between her uncle who lived in Wyoming and her father, who lived in North Carolina. Her father's work on an oil rig kept him away for a month or two at a time. As an only child, Selena never had much in the way of a strong female figure in her life, and as such had to learn a few lessons about femininity-more basic ones such as bra shopping and periods and more complex ones such as how to deal with guys and not hate oneself more or less on her own. She had a varying degree of success with all of these, and her negligible fashion sense is also a result of her upbringing. Suffice to say Dad wears crocs and socks.
She, however, did have a few male cousins with whom she spent a fair amount of time. As such, Selena spent most of her time doing the sorts of boyish hobbies most girls her age got too involved in-and her ability to keep pace with her cousins physically kept things interesting. The events of her mother's absence were never really delved into-however, secretly, childishly, Selena always clung onto the idea that she was the daughter of the old goddess Artemis, that the little fairy tale a denial-ridden dad had told her about how her mother was waiting for her up in the night sky was true. Selena still fancies this idea but would never, ever, EVER admit it to anyone. She, underneath the gruffness she developed to deal with the cousins who treated her as a little sister (complete with pranking and constant teasing), had a pretty big hole in her heart, and never really moved past it.
In school, Selena was an average student. She liked certain stuff but wasn't really phenomenal at anything. She wanted to be a veterinarian-Selena, stemming from her time spent outdoors, loved animals, but figured she didn't have good enough grades for it. Her life was fairly uneventful otherwise-she had no major disasters, no unforeseen trauma.
Family: Uncle, cousins, dad.
Relationships
Relationships: (Basically a section where you put your character's thoughts on the other ones they've encountered. You can also talk to other people and decide what your characters relations will be.)
[Character name] | [Impression (Good/Bad/Neutral]] | [Relationship (Friend, Rival, Crush, etc)] | [Character's thoughts [EX: I think Bob is quite the amiable fellow, has a great head on his shoulders, but is kinda daft]] |
Abilities
Power Class: Other
Power:
Super-System
The Huntress Selena has an innate predator's drive. This is nothing so cruel as, say, the Dresdenverse's mantle of the Winter Knight, but she has an edge for bloodlust and passion. Selena, I should clarify, is not bloodthirsty, feels no senseless cruelty. However, she's got a rush she only feels when she's stalking her prey, when she's lunging in for the kill-in whatever form that may take. She feels the same rush at winning a race, at killing a deer, at beating someone in wrestling-at securing her position as apex, queen of the jungle. To this end, her body is more capable than the average person. Her strength, speed, endurance, reflexes, and senses are all enhanced-particularly the latter two. She is not able to pick up cars or sprint like the Flash-however, if she continues to develop, she could easily be an Olympic athlete (in several categories) later on in life. She's able to, by more fully embracing her predatorial, instinctual side, become more powerful, however in doing so her rational thought and levelheadedness begins to ebb. This is by no means permanent, but if she moves and operates fully on instinct, she becomes a force to be reckoned with. Her senses make her a keen hunter-she is able to track scents, move near-silently, and function without much impairment at night. Her abilities are more powerful as the moon is fuller. Additionally, she can camouflage herself rather easily-this applies to muffling her scent, noise, and presence as much as it does her appearance.
Queen of the Wild Hunt. For centuries, legends have existed of the Wild Hunt, a cavalcade of beasts and hunters that stormed the skies of Europe and took prey wherever they so desired. Now giving Selena this kind of power would be ridiculously OP, but she does hold sway over wild beasts. She cannot directly control animals, but they are more inclined to obey her-particularly predators (prey animals are mostly scared by her presence). She doesn't have to fear being attacked by wild animals and can normally communicate with them to a crude extent. She's also able to sense disturbances in nature around her, and has a natural gauge for life around her. This effect is more pronounced when she's outdoors, or in the wilderness-in a concrete building,it's greatly muffled. She's also got an edge against any animal-based metahumans-as Queen of the Wild Hunt, their abilities are not as effective against her, and a natural fear and reverence (usually subconscious, something they can't put their finger/claw on but can't ignore) is present there. This is not to say that she is immune to them-however, they may have more trouble picking up on her scent, may be more shaken by her threats, more wounded by her attacks, etc.
The Daughter of Artemis. Legendary markswoman that she was, Selena is an excellent markswoman. This applies to rifles and bows mostly-she's got very little with pistols (unless they're scoped, but who does that). This is nothing really supernatural-she can't, for instance, hit a fly with an arrow or anything ridiculous. However, she is a peerless shot, especially with a bow. As the moon grows more full, her skill increases. Her arrows are capable of dealing slightly disproportionate damage-especially during the full moon, they gain an armor-piercing quality that tends to cut through most supernatural defenses. During the new moon, they still pack a punch, but aren't quite as damaging.
Actaeon's Hound. According to myth, Artemis was gifted by the god of nature, Pan, with the seven finest hunting hounds in all the world. During the full moon, Selena is capable of giving in entirely to her predator's side and transforming into a wolf. While in wolf form, she's not capable of much but instinct-based action. She can't transform back until the moon's light has left the sky-this, predictably, can leave her in a somewhat vulnerable state if she's up against enemies who have any modicum of intelligence. If she embraces the Wild Hunt/transforms into the wolf, prey will flee before her. It doesn't really do much but it's funny as hell to watch.
Weaknesses/Limitations/Drawbacks:
First and foremost, the moon. While the moon is new, during the day, she's more or less your average human, albeit in great shape and with a considerable amount of training (in the form of many years spent hunting). Direct daylight hampers her abilities somewhat, and she's not quite as sharp. Her ability favors the long, drawn-out nature of a slow hunt-stalking her prey for weeks until the opportune moment to strike.
Her ability also plays a lot with predatorial instincts, and to what extent it affects her. Her territorial/aggressive nature is passively affected by this. The more she draws upon her powers, the more Selena slips into that mindset. If she's drawing upon her powers fully, she'll be fully obsessed with the hunt, with the kill, with catching her prey. Predators' eyes are focused in the center, on the prey before them. Selena can be lured into traps, outmaneuvered, and defeated more easily when she develops this tunnel vision. She also becomes more aggressive and willing to take risks, as well as more...base? Challenges will not go unanswered, and threats will not be taken lightly. These can be turned against her easily. Primal desires are more prominent over complex ones.
She is, innately, the Queen of the Wild Hunt. Whenever she is bested, however, this mantle may briefly flicker to another individual. If Selena's let her predator side take over while fighting, then she may have difficulty shaking it-establishing your status as a predator above her may result in Selena acknowledging defeat and falling into the pack underneath the new alpha until she regains her senses.
Selena's also prone to suffering the fallout of her actions. If she pushes herself too far, she can deal with anything from soreness to torn ligaments as a result of her overexertion. She prefers the slow, drawn-out hunt-exhausting her prey and then lunging in for the kill when it's weak. In an outright battle, head-on, she runs the risk of tiring herself out. Predators don't normally like confrontations where they don't have the advantage-if the tables turn, Selena may leave to lick her wounds and return another day rather than risk being bested. Her pride, however, can interfere with this.
Additionally, her powers leave her more prone to psychic attacks than most others would be. She's also, as a result of her inexperience in the romance department, a little more easily swayed by infatuation based powers or emotional powers than most others would be. Selena has a weakness to solar-based powers as well, and is not as potent within very urbanized areas.
The smell and taste of blood will also cause Selena to become somewhat riled up. In large quantities, it can trigger her more predatorial side to take over, and cause needlessly aggressive actions and reckless decisions. Think a shark near a bloodied fish. She generally prefers long-range, relatively clean kills to avoid this. Curiously, if the creature is dead-or the hunt over-this effect isn't anywhere near as strong. She can skin and clean her game with minimal adverse effects, but if she's wounded it? Its blood calls to her, an irresistible trail on the ground as it flees from her, beckoning to be bested, to be slain...
The wolf thing is meant to be a one time gig. She's never done it before and is totally unaware that she can. Her active resistance to fully "going over" and the fact she'd be completely drained for the next day or two means it's not something she can do frequently at all-it's an ultimate last resort tactic.
Other:
Writing Sample:
Selena was quiet, which was in and of itself unsurprising. She was, more alarmingly, in suburbia. Humming softly to herself, she brushed some of her hair back behind an ear and scanned her nearby surroundings. Nope. Not here.
"C'mere, Chaser," she called, her voice warm but with an authoritative undertone-perhaps it was something people would've missed, but a squirrel scampering across a branch stopped and glanced over its shoulder at her before squeaking and running away. She chuckled softly, continuing her pursuit. It was a pretty windy day, which was making this whole ordeal somewhat more difficult-she couldn't try and track down the pup without eau de soccer mom's trashcan flooding her senses. Selena was promptly reminded of why she avoided cookie-cutter neighborhoods, just on general principle. She also didn't have her bow with her, which was...annoying. A part of her felt almost naked-well, metaphorically naked. Selena wasn't quite as bothered by being naked as other people were. Not to say she stripped frequently, or enjoyed being naked around others-but alone, sunbathing or something, it wasn't really an annoyance to her. Felt normal. Felt natural. And not having her bow felt like not having her right hand. Or maybe her finger.
The dilemma of what body part best constituted her bow distracted Selena for a few dozen houses until she broke out of her reverie. Right. Lost dog. Important matters at hand. She whistled again, sharp and fast. "Here, Chaser. I don't have all damn day, Chaser." Selena continued down the road, boots echoing softly against the pavement. With a teensy bit of effort, she could've walked very quietly-however, it was trickier to do on concrete, and she wasn't really worried about anyways. Selena yawned softly and shivered under her jacket. Should've worn another layer or two, which is what she'd normally do, but of course she had to get dragged out to look for a stupid lost dog, who of course had to be dumb enough to...
Selena stopped cold, almost comically so-her foot froze a few inches from touching the ground and she perked up, nose twitching softly, eyes darting around. She cocked her head ever so slightly, and a grin pulled at her lips. "Ah, I know where you are." Selena wheeled around ninety degrees, casually resuming her stride as she approached a six foot high wooden fence. With a two-step running start and grunt, she lunged up and clasped onto the top of the fence, pushing off with her feet and clambering to the top, where she perched for a moment as she looked around again. Another long breath in and slow sigh out. Selena dropped down into the woods behind the neighborhood, immediately feeling more at ease. Subconsciously, she landed in the spot devoid of any fallen leaves, and as she stood back up, her joints did not crackle and pop to betray her presence, her breath seemed to mist a little more transparently. The birdsong was louder. The smells on the breeze more prominent. Selena walked through the woods, hands in her pockets as she followed the faint odor she could just barely pick up.
After a little ways walking, she froze once again-not for any particular reason, but rather for the sudden, overwhelming urge that she should-Selena's eyes flickered down and she saw why. A silent curse escaped her lips-Stupid, Selena, real stupid. Shoulda been paying attention, those boots aren't snakeproof.. Selena stayed motionless, glaring at the rattlesnake coiled beneath her. "Too cold for you to be out anyway. Go. Get."
It stayed still for a moment, quivering.
Selena snarled, her eyes boring down into the serpent. She put her foot down, not three inches from it. Its tail danced back and forth, rattling softly. "I. Said. Go." Selena growled, standing at her full height. There was a faint thud-thud in the back of her skull, and she felt her fingers begin to dance with anticipation. She didn't have her knife with her, just a little pocket knife in her pocket. That'd be four, five seconds to wrestle it out and flip it into place. Then another one to dive down. She'd stomp the son of a bitch and cut off his head.
There was a second or two of standoff and the snake hissed, recoiling back and slithering away. Selena watched it go for a minute then shook her head. "Cheeky little bastard." Undeterred, she continued a short ways on to find the puppy, yelping softly. It was stuck in a briar patch, wriggling to get free and only further worsening its conditions. It reminded Selena vaguely of American politics. "Hush. Hold still." The puppy, far too young to have been trained, did as it was commanded, and Selena knelt down a foot or so from the briars, scanning for a way to get the stupid thing out of there. She glanced up at the sky.
"You. You're lucky you're cute, Chaser." Selena began to take off her jacket and shirt, feeling a rush of goosebumps as she lay her clothes down on the frozen ground. Down to her tanktop. It'd take too long to cut through them with her pocket knife, dull and small as it was, and beyond that, the sun was going down. As many open wounds as the little mutt had, he probably wouldn't do too well out in the cold. So, that left the more unsavory solution. At least her clothes wouldn't get torn up. Biting down (perhaps, had she delved into her more predatory side, she could've shrugged off the pain and the cold entirely, but Selena preferred to avoid that whenever it wasn't necessary) hard, she shoved her hands through the briar patch, pulling the dog free (and holding it still with a visegrip) of the many branches it'd latched itself onto. Then, she guarded it as best she could and slowly began to work it back out, finally getting the puppy free. It yelped and rolled around on the ground, shaking furiously.
"I'm not giving you a bath, that's up to Melissa," Selena muttered, standing up. Bah. Blood was oozing down her arms in a couple of places and she'd have a couple of nasty scrapes, but Selena had tussled with briars before. Nothing that would scar, at any rate. Cursing to ease the pain, she took her jacket and shirts and bundled the puppy up, pressing him up against her chest. A shiver ran down her spine, and Selena took a deep breath, closing her eyes and listening for her heartbeat, the sound of the wind on the leaves. The pain receded a bit-the edge of the cold was dulled. She opened her eyes, shaped just a bit more like slits than they should've been. "Alright, Chase," Selena muttered, half-hoping they'd chance across that snake again. "Let's get you home."
Name: Frederick Macroshelys
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Fred, Big Fellow, any of the four Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles. His callsign is “Crush”.
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Height: 7’10”
Weight: 1,065 lbs
Home District: The Woods or the NEST Base (depending on if he’s on-duty or not).
Appearance
Hair Color: He has no hair.
Eye Color: Black like the eye of a turtle. His pupil is vaguely star-shaped, like the eye of an alligator snapping turtle.
Ethnicity: Turtle. His skin is a mottled dark green color.
Physical Appearance: Fred bears a semblance to the mutant turtle Spike in the Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles. He appears as a gigantic turtle, taller enough to look down at most humans and incredibly wide. Fred’s entire torso is covered in a turtle shell, which is black. It has three rows of dinosaur-like spikes going down the back of the shell, like an alligator snapping turtle. Infact, many aspects of Fred are similar to an alligator snapper. He has mottled, scaly-looking skin, making him look rather dinosaur-like, and has a head the same shape as an alligator snapper, with a sharp-looking beak. He has a human tongue, however, which allows him to speak. Fred’s arms are about average size compared to his height and width, but his legs are comparatively short compared to his large armored torso. Both his hands and his feet possess sharp-looking claws and webbing between the fingers. He has four fingers on each hand and four toes on each foot. In addition to all of this, Fred possesses a short, alligator-like tail about two feet long. Fred’s voice is deep and grating, similar to the voice of Deathstroke in the television show Arrow.
Attire: Since most of Fred’s body is covered in armored shell, he’s not particularly bothered with clothing. The one piece of clothing that he does wear is a pair of basketball-type shorts, simply because people seem to be offended by his small penis when Fred walks around not wearing any clothing at all. When he’s not in a public place, Fred wears no clothing. For when he’s on-duty, Fred wears a modified version of a NEST uniform.
Personality
Personality: Fred is a curious kind of individual. He is a very calm gentleman, usually preferring peaceful activities to violent ones. If Fred had his way, he would apprehend meta criminals with words instead of fists. That being said, however, he will certainly fight back if attacked. Generally-speaking, he is a gentle giant. When not on duty, he wouldn’t harm a flea. Unlike many NEST agents, Fred sees that his job is to protect the population, not arrest illegal metas. Fred is known to be rather wise and, despite being relatively young, is a good person to go to for advice. He’s strange in that he could be described as an intellectual despite his lack of formal school training. Another useful character trait of Fred is his rationality. He has more intuition than your average mook and has a very good hold on what fights he can and cannot win. He doesn’t mind calling in backup when he knows he cannot win a fight. In addition to this, Fred has a strong sense of justice. He doesn’t mind telling someone that what they’re doing is wrong, and he won’t do something he’s personally opposed to. Fred’s attributes make him a perfect foil for the headstrong and reckless Henry. When Fred is around, he is able to more or less talk sense into the gigantic reptile when he’s thinking about doing something stupid.
Fred isn’t particularly good in crowds, and he generally has a bit of prejudice against normal humans. He prefers living in rural areas as opposed to urban areas. He gets somewhat anxious when in areas with large amounts of people.
Hobbies/Interests: Fred is a pretty simple guy. More than anything, he likes nature and everything in it. Hikes are a common activity for him, and he enjoys simply being in nature. Swimming is also a big hobby of his as well. Many a time he can be found swimming around in his marsh, enjoying nature and the water, though it’s winter so this is unlikely. He enjoys reading, especially from transcendentalists like Emerson and Thoreau as well as Walt Whitman. His favorite book is Leaves of Grass. If one half of Fred’s bookshelf is devoted to poetry and transcendentalism, the other half is cookbooks. Fred loves to cook. You will seldom find Fred at home without something simmering on the stove. He has collected a wide variety of recipes for different dishes involving fish, as well as some of the best soups you’ve ever had. Despite his love of soup, Fred’s favorite food, however, is definitely wild-caught snapper. He had it once at Shriver’s and he loved it.
Skills/Talents: Job-wise, Fred has taken some training classes in judo, a style of martial arts very similar to wrestling. Though his speed impairs this, he can pretty badly fuck an opponent up if he gets ahold of them. Fred has begun taking classes in sumo as well, thanks to a martial arts studio in Chinatown which is tolerant of metas. However these are solely for his job, as Fred isn’t a huge fan of fighting. Fred is a very good cook, known to be good with soups, which are his favorite foods next to fish.
Prized Possession: He’s not one to really get attached to things.
Quote(s): “Henry, get that out of your mouth!”
History/Bio: Fred was born in a small town near the Florida Everglades, ironically enough the child of two ecologists. He was born relatively normal-looking, but by age two his skin began to turn green. Obviously, watching your kid turn green is enough to sufficiently freak you out, and so Fred’s father spent a small fortune trying to have his son taken care of. Every doctor he took Fred to had absolutely no idea what was wrong with the boy or even how to fix him. By the time Fred was seven years old, his mutant transformation had taken hold. He was beginning to grow a thick carapace on his back and stomach, and his skin was a mottled green color. Desperate and terrified, Fred’s father pulled his son out of school (which didn’t bother Fred since everyone thought he was diseased) and searched the country to figure out what was wrong with his son. After months of searching, he finally came across Dr.Tobias Wright, an esteemed medical research scientist, who discovered that his child was a transforming metahuman, something which Tobias (who himself was a hideously-mutated metahuman) had never been able to study before. Tobias told Fred’s father that he would be able to help his son best if he was allowed to stay in the lab, and so Tobias took Fred in. Fred grew up under Tobias’ schooling and training (though he still lived with his parents, who moved to Mendel to stay with their son) and by age thirteen Fred’s power fully manifested. Of course, the Macroshelys family wasn’t exactly pleased with the fact that their son was a turtle, but Tobias claimed that this was their son’s true and healthiest form. A legal battle ensued in which Fred’s family tried to hold Tobias legally responsible for Fred’s condition, while Tobias claimed that it was simply genetics. The court case gained nationwide acclaim as humans and metas clashed on the legal battlefield. Fred personally had no problem with how he looked and acted, though the social isolation was bothersome to him to a certain degree. He learned to live on his own without the need for many others (though he made friends with some of Tobias’ interns and research assistants, who were metas too). Tobias won the court case, and the Macroshelys family decided to move back to Florida away from Mendel. Fred, however, did not want to leave. He was furious at his parents, and so, forced to leave Dr.Wright’s lab, he ran away at age fourteen. He hung around the lab occasionally, but Toby knew that he couldn’t stay for fear of legal repercussions, so after a few months there Fred was told that he had to leave to go with his family. Fred instead travelled to a different part of Mendel, where he lived with a group known as the Vanguard, a metahuman gang/community in the west side of town. He was educated via homeschooling by the Vanguard, and lived with them until a gang war broke out between them and their rivals, the Skulls. He ran away north this time, and came to Mendel at age 17. He finished high school through a GED program by age 18, but had no family and no foundation for a living. Realizing his plight, Fred decided to return to nature, and he found the marsh that he now calls his home. He build a small wooden shack there at first, living off of what he could find in the woods and spending his days swimming in the marsh. He came to become an avid reader of writers like Emerson and Thoreau, the transcendentalists, who reaffirmed his love of living in nature and enlightened him to a life of simplicity. Simplicity doesn’t pay the electric bill, though, so Fred decided that he needed to find a job. He met up with NEST somewhat coincidentally (he got in a fight with Henry while in the middle of the forest) and has been working for them ever since, using his mighty glacier powers to apprehend rouge metas and keep the streets of Black Fall safe.
Family:
Dr.Johnathan Macroshelys- Father. Hasn’t seen in years.
Katherine Macroshelys- Mother. Hasn’t seen in years.
Dr.Tobias Wright- Father figure/mentor. Works in Mendel University’s genetics lab in Mendel, Louisiana.
Relationships
Henry | Excellent | Best friend | Henry has a bad habit of being somewhat irrational, but he’s still probably my best friend. He’s one of the few people around who have been to my home in the woods. We giant dinosaurs have to stick together, after all. |
Jack Corvo | Bad | begrudging acquaintance | I would like nothing better than to chuck Corvo in a cell and watch him rot, but apparently NEST finds him useful for something besides being a nuisance. Whatever. |
Harmon Rottlege | Good | Charge/prisoner | I’ve had a few conversations with him when checking in on his powers and he seems to be a fairly reasonable fellow. I sympathize with his appearance, as I also have been discriminated because of it. |
Sicilia Orantes II | Bad | Coworker | She screws around more than Henry and once tried to turn my hands into wolverine claws. I still have the scars. |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Super System, 7
Power: Well if the appearance section wasn’t obvious enough, Fred has powers relating to the fact that he looks like your little pet turtle on steroids from 90,000,000 B.C. First and foremost, the shell. Fred has an enormous and heavy shell, which he uses to defend himself with. Fred’s shell is tremendously strong, sturdy enough to handle most if not all melee weapons and thick enough to deflect low-caliber bullets like what you’d find in a handgun (Though, point a sniper rifle at him and he’s fucked). Like turtles, Fred can retract his entire body into his shell, protecting him from damage. Fred’s shell is laced with self-repairing polymers, meaning that his shell can heal itself when critically damaged. In addition to this, Fred is fairly strong. His legs are strong enough to lift about 3,000 lbs (I mean, they carry a 1,000-pound turtle around, so they have to be fairly sturdy) and his arms can lift a little less than that. Fred’s keratin claws are strong enough to deflect the blade of your average knife or sword. Fred’s jaw is incredibly strong, able to shatter bones with a single bite. When submerged in water, Fred’s overall healing factor is increased, allowing him to heal while submerged. Fred has enormous lungs and this, combined with his slow metabolism, allows him to hold his breath for about three and a half hours before taking a breath. This allows him to stay underwater for long periods of time, but also means that he is sorta-kinda immune to toxic gasses. Also, because he is a reptile, Fred’s blood is slightly acidic, protecting him from a lot of different kinds of disease. Long-term-wise, Fred has a very slow metabolism, and his cells age much slower than average, meaning that he will have prolonged longevity. While this doesn’t do much for him now besides slow the effect of some poisons (which is never gonna happen because no one uses poison in roleplays anyways), it means that Fred will probably live at least twice as long as your average human.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: Behold, the downside of the mighty glacier. That shell Fred totes around isn’t exactly lightweight. 70% of Fred’s weight is that thing, and it’s somewhat cumbersome. The shells slows him down pretty significantly, causing his sprinting run to be about the same speed as most people’s jog. The shell isn’t the most balanced piece of equipment as well, meaning that Fred has to constantly lean forward to keep himself from falling down. If he were pushed hard enough backwards, he could flip over, which, given the aforementioned weight of the shell, would be a bad time for everyone involved. The back of Fred’s shell is thicker than the front, meaning that it is better at protecting him. While the back of Fred’s shell might be able to shrug off something like a .45 (though it would be pretty badly damaged if it did that), a bullet of that caliber would shred right through him if it hit his front. The parts of Fred’s body which are not covered in shell are vulnerable to attack. Outside of water, he has no way to regenerate damage done to the fleshy part of his body. Because Fred’s metabolism is so slow, medicines take longer to kick in. Where your average Advil takes about a half hour to kick in, it would take Fred about an hour for that same thing. Also, a quick word about the bite. Fred’s bite isn’t going to be used much (since who wants to feel bones shattering between their teeth?) but when he does use it, he has a problem similar to crocodiles in that his bite down is so strong that his mouth can be held closed relatively easily.
Other: When Fred isn’t on-duty for NEST, he lives in a small hut sitting on a peninsula jutting into a small marsh in the woods. It’s a small one-story circular hut built out of wood with a black shingle roof. The house is about thirteen feet tall and twenty feet by twenty feet in diameter. It has electricity provided by two generators, which are both gas and solar-powered (he has some solar panels on the roof) and has water provided by a pipe leading to the city’s reservoir (this is the same way that he has sewage). The house has a stone chimney on the outside as well as an extra-large outhouse with plumbing. Outside of the house is a marsh filled with reeds and water plants, as well as a good deal of wildlife. Oftentimes Fred can be found swimming in this marsh. Fred has a garden as well, right outside of his house on the peninsula. He changes what he grows depending on the season, but every year grows lettuce, spinach, carrots, turnips, and tomatoes. He is currently growing cabbage, broccoli, and endive (because that’s the only stuff he can get to grow in Black Fall’s frigid winter climate). Inside the house, there is a steel-framed bed strong enough to hold a 1,000 pound turtle, a fireplace, a moss-colored rug, a circular wooden table, a giant steel-reinforced armchair, a small kitchen (a few cabinets, a fridge, an oven, etc), a few lamps, and a bookshelf. He has a trunk at the foot of his bed which stores what little clothing he owns, as well as a small cage for any injured animals he finds. He has two windows in his house and a sturdy wooden door. He often hangs herbs up to dry by one of the windows. He is currently saving up for a smokehouse so he can make some smoked salmon.
Sample Post:
It was a cloudless sunny day, Fred’s favorite. He woke up at 7 AM to the newly-risen sun and let out a mighty groan as he stretched his limbs and rolled out of bed clumsily. The ashes of last night’s fire sat heavy in the fireplace and occasionally threw a dying tendril of smoke into the air as zephyrs of caressing wind blew down through the chimney and sparked it to life. He moved to his feet and, upon rising to full height, walked towards his shack’s heavy oaken door to greet the new day. It was warmer than it had been, about fifty-five degrees, and though it was early November, nature was still in full swing. From the orange and yellow canopy of trees above came the noises of a thousand birds as they rested on their way south to avoid the crushing winter. Fred watched as the symphonies of blues and greys fluttered through the trees in unison, and for a moment he envied them. He took a moment to admire a lovely grey squirrel which sat near the end of Fred’s peninsula and chewed on the soft remains of a broken pumpkin which Fred had stepped on a few weeks prior.
After admiring the way the squirrel’s cheeks seemed to pulse as it chewed its way through a seed, he turned to his right and began to lumber halfway up the peninsula to where his long rectangular vegetable garden grew. Inside of the mesh cage which Fred sat on top of the garden to protect it from hungry animals were immaculately-kept rows of potatoes and turnips, chicory and cabbage. He nodded in satisfaction and, remembering that it had rained the day before, turned back towards the hut. He walked around to the side of the hut where there was another garden, semi-circle-shaped to hug tightly to the hut’s wooden walls. Here grew a variety of autumn squash, from butternut to acorn to pumpkins, also kept in a heavy mesh cage to keep animals out. He smiled and lifted the heavy cage to the side in order to access the produce inside. Using his sharp claws, he cut two vines of butternut squash and grabbed the large vegetables from where it lay on the ground before placing the cage back on top and heading inside, stopping to pick a few leaves of oregano from a large pot of herbs next to his door.
He laid the squash on a countertop in his kitchen and opened the well-organized spice cabinet, where he selected a bottle of dried pumpkin seeds, a container of pumpkin spice, some ginger, a salt shaker, and some pepper. He took a gigantic soup pot from a different cabinet and began to make his soup for the day, squash soup. After preparing the gigantic pot, he allowed it to begin cooking and walked over to his chair by the library, where he took a new book recommended to him by a friend; Confessions by St.Augustine. While Fred was not particularly religious, he enjoyed the writing style and the messages contained within the book. As a cool breeze blew in from the open window next to his armchair and the filtered light cast down upon the book, Fred exhaled a long, contented sigh. Today was going to be a good day.
Basic Information
Name: Tamba Shariati
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Generally referred to as The Boxer.
Gender: male
Age: 22
Height: 6’4”
Weight: 230 lbs
Home District: Dead End
Appearance
Hair Color: bald
Eye Color: Dark brown
Ethnicity: Ugandan
Physical Appearance: Large and imposing, Tamba doesn’t look like he’s someone you want to fuck with. He is massive firstly, standing at an imposing 6’4”, and looks incredibly strong, as he is practically all muscle. He has very long arms and legs, his legs comprising most of his height, and large hands. If fighting doesn’t work out, he could probably become a fairly good basketball player. Being Ugandan, Tamba’s skin is very dark. Tamba always stands with an athletic-type gait and he seems somewhat paranoid, always looking over his shoulder to see if someone’s coming. There is a jagged scar in his back from a knife wound, so maybe it’s warranted.
Tamba has a long neck leading to a large oval-shaped head. He shaves his head, keeping it bald 24-7. He has large fleshy ears which have small scars from where they used to be pierced -from before he had to afford a child. Tamba’s face always has a hard, angry look to it; it is obvious that life has not been kind to him. He has thin eyebrows that are held in snugly to his eyes. He has somewhat small, almond-shaped eyes which generally look focused on something that isn’t you until you get in a fight. His nose is crooked from being broken too many times. Tamba has a small mouth and white, somewhat tarnished teeth (because sometimes buying food is more important than buying toothpaste). There is a very small scar in the right corner of his mouth. Tamba’s voice has a thick African accent, and he talks very slowly. This is not because he is lacking in intelligence, but because he does not know English very well.
Attire: Generally ragged. Tamba doesn’t spend a lot of money on his clothing, often frequenting pawn shops and thrift shops (is there a difference?). He will generally wear some sort of plain tee shirt with a pair of track pants and a leather jacket. When he fights, Tamba wears a pair of black boxing shoes and shorts with the pattern of the Ugandan flag on them.
Personality
Personality: Tamba’s mind is hard-wired for work. He is what many people would call a stick-in-the-mud, the type of guy who works so hard he never has any fun. He is working almost constantly, scratching and clawing for every cent he can earn to support himself and his little brother, Tete (I’ll explain this later). If he’s not working, Tamba is probably training. Tamba is known for his incredible, unflappable determination. It is said that he once walked through a hurricane to get to a match that was cancelled because no one else showed up. Tamba is also known for his great stoicness. People often make fun of him for being unemotional, which isn’t true. Tamba doesn’t lack emotion; he’s simply learned to control it with an excellent poker face. Few times in his life has Tamba truly broken down, and when he does it’s usually because of something terrible. He broke down when his father died, and also after his first fight in Black Fall, where a fighter named Titus beat him to a pulp (this was before he completely understood his power or knew how to fight. He rematched Titus a year later and kicked his ass). While Tamba’s obviously slightly paranoid and isn’t exactly one to donate for charity, he has a soft spot for children. Occasionally, one can see him giving a hungry child some of his meal.
Hobbies/Interests: Fun? Tamba operates off of a philosophy that he can have fun when he gets enough money for his brother to make it through school without dropping out. He trains constantly while a neighbor watches Tete, only returning for lunch and dinner. As I referenced before, Tamba is a fighter in the underground illegal Metahuman fighting circuit that runs in Black Fall.
Skills/Talents: Fighting. Over the past four years, Tamba has trained to become a boxing machine. He is incredibly strong and agile, and his long arms give him an advantage against foes. In addition to this, since illegal fights aren’t always clean, Tamba has learned Jiu Jitsu from his trainer, who was once a martial artist (and will probably be a character if COG is truly dead). He has considered joining the MMA circuit at some point, as you make more money from that one, however he needs to hone his fighting skills more if he is to do that.
Prized Possession: His little brother Tete.
Quote(s): “You keep talking. All of you keep talking! One day I’m going to be the greatest fighter in the Godforsaken city, and when I am you’ll all know my name!”
“You want me to stop working? Back in Uganda, my father used to say ‘One day, Tambo, there will come a day when all of us will stop working and will join hands as brothers in the eyes of our God.’ That day has not come yet.”
History/Bio: Tamba Shariati was born in a small town north of Gulu, Uganda. His father was a farmer there, and his mother unemployed. Tamba was the first of three children, the second of which of which disappeared at age two. Tamba grew up in terrible poverty, often going hungry because there wasn’t enough for anyone to eat. During the time he was growing up, a plague was sweeping across Uganda known as the LRA, a privatized army created and owned by Joseph Kony (Kony 2012). The army abducted citizens and children, turning boys into child soldiers and girls into sex slaves. The LRA raided Tamba’s village several times, and he believes that his youngest brother was most likely abducted by them. When Tamba was thirteen, his mother died in childbirth. With her last breath she gave birth to Siafa Shariati, called Tete because he was very clumsy and would constantly fall and scrape himself (tete is the Swahili word for fragile). Tamba discovered his metahuman abilities that same year when a man known as “Umeme” came to the town to “protect” it. Umeme was a self-proclaimed vigilante with electrokinesis, but instead of coming to protect the town from the LRA, he decided to simply take whatever he felt like taking and mow down anyone who tried to stop him. One day he broke into Tamba’s house, a one-room shack, while Tamba’s father was out working and attempted to raid his family’s pantry (which either way contained very little food). Tamba was going to stand down, but after Umeme kicked his little brother, he decided that the tyrant would have to be brought down one way or another. He attacked Umeme, the latter defending himself by blasting Tamba with electricity. Tamba reciprocated by rushing across the room at superhuman speed and breaking Umeme’s neck like he was a chicken at a slaughterhouse. The village hailed him as a hero.
About three years later, tragedy struck once more. The LRA came to Tamba’s village and decided that they wanted to stay. They set up an encampment in the village and took over, driving many people into slavery and soldierhood. Tamba and his brother were kept safe in the house, barely seeing the light of day for weeks. After a time, Ugandan freedom fighters came to the village once more to “liberate” the people and, in the process, burned the village of wooden shacks to the ground. Tamba and Tete were able to escape, but their father did not.
For weeks Tamba roamed the savannah with his orphaned little brother on his back, searching for food to try and stay alive. Tamba found soon that his abilities did not extend to normal creatures when he failed to kill a zebra with his bare hands. Eventually, exhausted and dying of dehydration, the two brothers were found by a wealthy philanthropist, Jonathan Corvo, Sr., who, moved with pity, offered both of them a one-way ticket to America, where they would have a “better life”. After arriving in America, Tamba and Tete found themselves in Black Fall, Pennsylvania, the City of Freaks. They had only what Corvo gave them, twenty-thousand dollars to “get them started”, seven letters to the CEOs of businesses in Black Fall, and a phone number if they ever needed anything. These things were contained in a messenger bag given to Tamba from Corvo. On their third day in Black Fall, the bag was stolen, never to be found again.
Hungry and homeless, Tamba and Tete found themselves in the Dead End. There they were taken in by an elderly woman by the name of Mary King, who helped Tamba find a job at a pawn shop. He worked there for a few months until one evening when, while taking the day’s profits to the bank, he was jumped by a metahuman mugger. In a rather long and drawn-out fight, Tamba was able to defeat the meta using his abilities and punched him through a brick wall. The fight caught attention of a nearby recruiter for the metahuman fighting circuit, who offered Tamba a chance to come and train (especially since the meta he incapacitated was one of the better fighters). While Tamba wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of fighting metahumans vastly more powerful than himself, he needed the money desperately, so he accepted the offer. He spent about six months training until one day while at the gym he was challenged to his fight fight by a musclebound goon known as Titus MacArthur, the East Circuit champion. Titus (if anyone from COG knows) was a superhuman with insane strength and regeneration, and even with his training, Tamba was no match. He put up a fair fight, but even with his abilities Tamba was knocked out in the third round. Angered and disrespected, Tamba spent another year training almost every day to be a fighter, often leaving early in the morning for work and not coming back home until nighttime. After another year of training and honing his skills, eighteen-year-old Tamba Shariati returned to the East Circuit (in nightlife aisle) and fought his first official boxing match, which he won by judges’ vote. He continued on with a twenty-match win streak, recording eight knockouts and ten hospitalizations, defeating some of the best meta fighters around. He made it to the boxing circuit championship as the champion of the east. The champion of the west was -you guessed it- Titus MacArthur.
The fight was a standstill for eleven rounds, with both of them taking plenty of big hits to rile the crowd up. But in the middle of round twelve, Tamba took a killed blow to the kidney, an illegal move in boxing, which sent him airborne. The referees didn’t call it; the crowd wanted a show. So, sufficiently energized, Tamba gave them one. He released a barrage of punches upon Titus and finally, in an act of pure luck, hit him under the chin and knocked him out, breaking his jaw and half his teeth with it. Titus went down, knocked unconscious, and Tamba won the fighting circuit. Titus, disgraced by the blow, left the circuit and never returned.
Ever since, Tamba has been a fighter. After short-term regeneration abilities were illegalized in the Western Circuit (but not in the east) Tamba has moved to the West (which is held in Dead End). He is a three-time champion of the fighting circuit, well-known throughout Black Fall’s underground, and has thus far won three matches in this boxing season. He has won fifty matches out of sixty in the last three years, scoring twenty-three knockouts and sending seventeen opponents to the ER. He still lives with Mary King, who watches Tete (who is ten) while Tamba trains and works. This season, Tamba looks better than ever, which is good for him considering that gambler and criminal patron Jack Corvo has decided to start funding the matches and charging admission, meaning that matches will have a bigger payout and the championship pot has thus far been estimated to be approximately five hundred-thousand dollars, easily enough for Tamba to get himself and Tete out of the ghetto.
Family:
Mustafa Shariati: Father, deceased
Kiara Shariati: Mother, deceased
Siafa “Tete” Shariati: Brother - 8
Mary King: Foster mother - 49
Relationships
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Power: 3 , Super-System: 8
Power: Tamba has the ability to absorb metahuman attacks. It works like this: Whenever a metahuman uses their abilities, they release metahuman energy from their cells, which fuels their abilities. When Tamba comes in contact with metahuman energy released from another person, he can absorb some of it, increasing his own strength, speed, and healing factor. The ability comes with a built-in resistance to most offensive metahuman attacks. Your average metahuman attack does about half as much damage to Tamba as it would to anyone else. In addition to this, hitting Tamba with a metahuman attack actually makes him stronger. When hit multiple times by attacks containing metahuman energy, Tamba’s body begins a process in which his brain releases pain-killing hormones, dampening the pain so that it doesn’t affect him as much and allowing him to keep fighting. At his strongest (at the end of the Titus fight, where he sustained the most damage), Tamba’s punches hit with a force of about 3,000 lbs, strong enough to shatter bones and bend metal. Tamba has no form of an adaptive healing factor, but the more he is hit by metahuman attacks, the more durable he becomes. A punch that would have broken bones when it strikes Tamba the first time will not do as much damage the second time. At peak durability, Tamba can slug it out with the strongest superhumans and receive relatively minimal damage. This makes Tamba an incredible fighter because he gets stronger the later into the rounds he progresses, whereas most enemies get weaker. In addition to this, Tamba is immune to some telepathic abilities, as he can absorb the waves of energy sent out by the telepaths. This prevents them from being able to read his mind but also throws up a red flag to most telepaths, making him easier to track.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: Firstly, Tamba’s abilities to jack squat to normal attacks. If a normal person or a person with no ability aiding their punch hits Tamba, his power will do nothing to protect him. The power only works for attacks which are made by a metahuman. So while superhuman punches and electrokinetic energy blasts do not damage him as much as they would damage a normal person, a normal punch or a lightning strike would do just as much damage to Tamba as it would for your average joe. If a metahuman attacks Tamba with a weapon, his ability will do nothing to stop it (unless, of course, his durability increases enough to stop the attack, but it never gets strong enough to stop bullets and he has to be at peak absorption to stop a knife due to its structure). Secondly, Tamba has no actually immunity to any power, with the exception of direct telepathy. An attack that deals 1,600 pound of force to a normal person may only deal 800 pounds of force to Tamba, but 800 pounds of force can still damage you. The best way to defeat Tamba is to hit him with a full-power blast at the beginning of a fight to do as much damage as possible before his durability kicks in. If one is able to bumrush Tamba with a flurry of powerful attacks before he absorbs enough energy to deal with them, he can be defeated without his power even kicking in. Finally, Tamba does not work well against animal metas. For some reason, be it that they release energy differently or what, attacks from animal metas do more damage to Tamba than other types of attacks do. If Tamba would absorb 800 pounds of force from a 1600 pound attack from a normal meta, then he would only absorb about 400 pounds of force from that same attack if the user was an animal meta.
Other:
Sample Post: “IN THIS CORNER, WEIGHING IN AT A WHOPPING TWO-HUNDRED-AND-FORTY FIVE POUNDS, THE MENDEL MONSTER, EMILIO MONEY MARTINEZ!”
The crowd above cheered and jeered like competing blasts of thunder as the challenger entered the ring. He was a short, stocky character, hispanic in heritage with dark hair and skin. He flexed his muscles to the crowd and the cheers rose louder. He looked to his right, and hissed like a snake as he saw people booing and giving him the finger. Up above, a glass bottle shattered and there was a scream as a drunken fight broke out. The heavy grating above protected the fighters from attacks, but it also made the arena appear as if it were a dark pit of Hell.
All of a sudden, the cheering stopped as a loud gong resonated through the building. An African drumbeat drowned out the audience as the announcer took his podium once more and screamed into the mic.
“AND IN THIS CORNER, WEIGHING IN AT TWO-HUNDRED-AND-THIRTY POUNDS, THE AFRICAN ANIMAL, THE UGANDAN USURPER, THE THREE-TIME REIGNING CHAMPION OF THE MENDEL FIGHTING CIRCUIT, TAMBAAAAA SHAAAARIIIIIAAAAATTIIIIIIIIIIIII!” The crowd went nuclear as the tall African man entered the ring wearing the gold-colored gloves of the Metahuman Circuit Boxing champion. He pounded his chest like a gorilla and yelled something incoherent to the audience over their roar. The referee, a very large man with skin the color of stone, walked to the middle of the ring, and both fighters approached. Emilio jumped around a bit, showing off and winking at women in the crowd with his viper-like eyes, but Tamba just stared straight ahead, as if into the soul of his opponent. The referee grabbed their boxing gloves and stated the rules.
“Alright fellas,” he began in a deep, gravely voice “I want a clean fight! No rabbit punches, no cheap shots, no spitting, no swearing, no-” the voice trailed off in Tamba’s mind as the two fighters locked eyes. It was time to bring home the bacon once more. He envisioned himself as a massive lion bearing down on its prey, tearing into flesh and crushing bone. The referee finished with “no regeneration or use of poison! Now let’s fight!”. The two fighters touched gloves and returned to their corners. Tamba’s trainer awaited him, a small Hispanic man with a strong mustache.
“Alright champ, this guy should be easy.” the trainer said “He’s strong and fast, but so are you. Just let him get a few hits in and then attack. He’ll be out cold by round five!” He clapped his hands heavily on Tamba’s shoulders and put in his mouth piece. Tamba rose his gloves up to his chest as a scantily-clad woman walked across the boxing ring with a sign reading “Round One”. The referee sat at a kiosk on one side of the square ring with the bell in his hand. [/i]This is is, Tamba. It’s all you now Let’s kick some ass.[/i]
“Fighters ready!” the referee roared. Showtime. Tamba cracked his neck to the side and rose his golden gloves up to fighting height.
“Fight!” The ring echoed through the pit, and the fighters were off.
“Let’s go!” the trainer yelled. Tamba took off across the ring, practically running at Emilio, who almost effortlessly let off a flurry of jabs towards Tamba’s stomach. Tamba blocked the two highest ones, but allowed the others to collide with his stomach. If one listened close enough, they could almost hear a tiny electric “zap!” Tamba swung a left hook at Emilio’s head, who blocked and struck back, nailing Tamba in the shoulder with a right jab. The crowd roared louder and louder as the two exchanged punches and weaved out of the way of attacks. The more punches they threw, the harder Tamba’s punches hit. Emilio swung a left hook and nailed Tamba in the side of the head. Tamba stumbled across the ring and landed on his side, his ears ringing. As the pain melted away, he rose back up to his feet with ease. The first round ended and he walked back to his corner.
Three rounds later, it was a much different fight. Tamba took off like a rocket, just like he had in the first round, and unleashed a blizzard of jabs onto his opponent. The first one hit Emilio’s glove and sent him sliding back six inches. The others weren’t nearly as kind. Tamba pinned Emilio against one of the four posts and unleashed his full fury. Emilio tried to fight back, but not even a jab to the face slightly bothered Tamba. It was as if his skin had become stone. As Emilio tried to escape, Tamba swung a right hook and mashed the serpent man in the left eye so hard that he flew out of the ring and crashed into the padded concrete outside. He wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.
“AND THE WINNER IS, TAAAAMBAAAA SHAAAAAARRRIIIIIIIIAAAAAATIIIIIIIIII” Tamba looked up at the crowd as the referee hoisted his gloved hand in the air and picked out an elderly woman with a small African boy standing in front of her, looking down and cheering! He nodded to Tete, and smiled. They would eat well tonight.
Name: Tamba Shariati
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Generally referred to as The Boxer.
Gender: male
Age: 22
Height: 6’4”
Weight: 230 lbs
Home District: Dead End
Appearance
Hair Color: bald
Eye Color: Dark brown
Ethnicity: Ugandan
Physical Appearance: Large and imposing, Tamba doesn’t look like he’s someone you want to fuck with. He is massive firstly, standing at an imposing 6’4”, and looks incredibly strong, as he is practically all muscle. He has very long arms and legs, his legs comprising most of his height, and large hands. If fighting doesn’t work out, he could probably become a fairly good basketball player. Being Ugandan, Tamba’s skin is very dark. Tamba always stands with an athletic-type gait and he seems somewhat paranoid, always looking over his shoulder to see if someone’s coming. There is a jagged scar in his back from a knife wound, so maybe it’s warranted.
Tamba has a long neck leading to a large oval-shaped head. He shaves his head, keeping it bald 24-7. He has large fleshy ears which have small scars from where they used to be pierced -from before he had to afford a child. Tamba’s face always has a hard, angry look to it; it is obvious that life has not been kind to him. He has thin eyebrows that are held in snugly to his eyes. He has somewhat small, almond-shaped eyes which generally look focused on something that isn’t you until you get in a fight. His nose is crooked from being broken too many times. Tamba has a small mouth and white, somewhat tarnished teeth (because sometimes buying food is more important than buying toothpaste). There is a very small scar in the right corner of his mouth. Tamba’s voice has a thick African accent, and he talks very slowly. This is not because he is lacking in intelligence, but because he does not know English very well.
Attire: Generally ragged. Tamba doesn’t spend a lot of money on his clothing, often frequenting pawn shops and thrift shops (is there a difference?). He will generally wear some sort of plain tee shirt with a pair of track pants and a leather jacket. When he fights, Tamba wears a pair of black boxing shoes and shorts with the pattern of the Ugandan flag on them.
Personality
Personality: Tamba’s mind is hard-wired for work. He is what many people would call a stick-in-the-mud, the type of guy who works so hard he never has any fun. He is working almost constantly, scratching and clawing for every cent he can earn to support himself and his little brother, Tete (I’ll explain this later). If he’s not working, Tamba is probably training. Tamba is known for his incredible, unflappable determination. It is said that he once walked through a hurricane to get to a match that was cancelled because no one else showed up. Tamba is also known for his great stoicness. People often make fun of him for being unemotional, which isn’t true. Tamba doesn’t lack emotion; he’s simply learned to control it with an excellent poker face. Few times in his life has Tamba truly broken down, and when he does it’s usually because of something terrible. He broke down when his father died, and also after his first fight in Black Fall, where a fighter named Titus beat him to a pulp (this was before he completely understood his power or knew how to fight. He rematched Titus a year later and kicked his ass). While Tamba’s obviously slightly paranoid and isn’t exactly one to donate for charity, he has a soft spot for children. Occasionally, one can see him giving a hungry child some of his meal.
Hobbies/Interests: Fun? Tamba operates off of a philosophy that he can have fun when he gets enough money for his brother to make it through school without dropping out. He trains constantly while a neighbor watches Tete, only returning for lunch and dinner. As I referenced before, Tamba is a fighter in the underground illegal Metahuman fighting circuit that runs in Black Fall.
Skills/Talents: Fighting. Over the past four years, Tamba has trained to become a boxing machine. He is incredibly strong and agile, and his long arms give him an advantage against foes. In addition to this, since illegal fights aren’t always clean, Tamba has learned Jiu Jitsu from his trainer, who was once a martial artist (and will probably be a character if COG is truly dead). He has considered joining the MMA circuit at some point, as you make more money from that one, however he needs to hone his fighting skills more if he is to do that.
Prized Possession: His little brother Tete.
Quote(s): “You keep talking. All of you keep talking! One day I’m going to be the greatest fighter in the Godforsaken city, and when I am you’ll all know my name!”
“You want me to stop working? Back in Uganda, my father used to say ‘One day, Tambo, there will come a day when all of us will stop working and will join hands as brothers in the eyes of our God.’ That day has not come yet.”
History/Bio: Tamba Shariati was born in a small town north of Gulu, Uganda. His father was a farmer there, and his mother unemployed. Tamba was the first of three children, the second of which of which disappeared at age two. Tamba grew up in terrible poverty, often going hungry because there wasn’t enough for anyone to eat. During the time he was growing up, a plague was sweeping across Uganda known as the LRA, a privatized army created and owned by Joseph Kony (Kony 2012). The army abducted citizens and children, turning boys into child soldiers and girls into sex slaves. The LRA raided Tamba’s village several times, and he believes that his youngest brother was most likely abducted by them. When Tamba was thirteen, his mother died in childbirth. With her last breath she gave birth to Siafa Shariati, called Tete because he was very clumsy and would constantly fall and scrape himself (tete is the Swahili word for fragile). Tamba discovered his metahuman abilities that same year when a man known as “Umeme” came to the town to “protect” it. Umeme was a self-proclaimed vigilante with electrokinesis, but instead of coming to protect the town from the LRA, he decided to simply take whatever he felt like taking and mow down anyone who tried to stop him. One day he broke into Tamba’s house, a one-room shack, while Tamba’s father was out working and attempted to raid his family’s pantry (which either way contained very little food). Tamba was going to stand down, but after Umeme kicked his little brother, he decided that the tyrant would have to be brought down one way or another. He attacked Umeme, the latter defending himself by blasting Tamba with electricity. Tamba reciprocated by rushing across the room at superhuman speed and breaking Umeme’s neck like he was a chicken at a slaughterhouse. The village hailed him as a hero.
About three years later, tragedy struck once more. The LRA came to Tamba’s village and decided that they wanted to stay. They set up an encampment in the village and took over, driving many people into slavery and soldierhood. Tamba and his brother were kept safe in the house, barely seeing the light of day for weeks. After a time, Ugandan freedom fighters came to the village once more to “liberate” the people and, in the process, burned the village of wooden shacks to the ground. Tamba and Tete were able to escape, but their father did not.
For weeks Tamba roamed the savannah with his orphaned little brother on his back, searching for food to try and stay alive. Tamba found soon that his abilities did not extend to normal creatures when he failed to kill a zebra with his bare hands. Eventually, exhausted and dying of dehydration, the two brothers were found by a wealthy philanthropist, Jonathan Corvo, Sr., who, moved with pity, offered both of them a one-way ticket to America, where they would have a “better life”. After arriving in America, Tamba and Tete found themselves in Black Fall, Pennsylvania, the City of Freaks. They had only what Corvo gave them, twenty-thousand dollars to “get them started”, seven letters to the CEOs of businesses in Black Fall, and a phone number if they ever needed anything. These things were contained in a messenger bag given to Tamba from Corvo. On their third day in Black Fall, the bag was stolen, never to be found again.
Hungry and homeless, Tamba and Tete found themselves in the Dead End. There they were taken in by an elderly woman by the name of Mary King, who helped Tamba find a job at a pawn shop. He worked there for a few months until one evening when, while taking the day’s profits to the bank, he was jumped by a metahuman mugger. In a rather long and drawn-out fight, Tamba was able to defeat the meta using his abilities and punched him through a brick wall. The fight caught attention of a nearby recruiter for the metahuman fighting circuit, who offered Tamba a chance to come and train (especially since the meta he incapacitated was one of the better fighters). While Tamba wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of fighting metahumans vastly more powerful than himself, he needed the money desperately, so he accepted the offer. He spent about six months training until one day while at the gym he was challenged to his fight fight by a musclebound goon known as Titus MacArthur, the East Circuit champion. Titus (if anyone from COG knows) was a superhuman with insane strength and regeneration, and even with his training, Tamba was no match. He put up a fair fight, but even with his abilities Tamba was knocked out in the third round. Angered and disrespected, Tamba spent another year training almost every day to be a fighter, often leaving early in the morning for work and not coming back home until nighttime. After another year of training and honing his skills, eighteen-year-old Tamba Shariati returned to the East Circuit (in nightlife aisle) and fought his first official boxing match, which he won by judges’ vote. He continued on with a twenty-match win streak, recording eight knockouts and ten hospitalizations, defeating some of the best meta fighters around. He made it to the boxing circuit championship as the champion of the east. The champion of the west was -you guessed it- Titus MacArthur.
The fight was a standstill for eleven rounds, with both of them taking plenty of big hits to rile the crowd up. But in the middle of round twelve, Tamba took a killed blow to the kidney, an illegal move in boxing, which sent him airborne. The referees didn’t call it; the crowd wanted a show. So, sufficiently energized, Tamba gave them one. He released a barrage of punches upon Titus and finally, in an act of pure luck, hit him under the chin and knocked him out, breaking his jaw and half his teeth with it. Titus went down, knocked unconscious, and Tamba won the fighting circuit. Titus, disgraced by the blow, left the circuit and never returned.
Ever since, Tamba has been a fighter. After short-term regeneration abilities were illegalized in the Western Circuit (but not in the east) Tamba has moved to the West (which is held in Dead End). He is a three-time champion of the fighting circuit, well-known throughout Black Fall’s underground, and has thus far won three matches in this boxing season. He has won fifty matches out of sixty in the last three years, scoring twenty-three knockouts and sending seventeen opponents to the ER. He still lives with Mary King, who watches Tete (who is ten) while Tamba trains and works. This season, Tamba looks better than ever, which is good for him considering that gambler and criminal patron Jack Corvo has decided to start funding the matches and charging admission, meaning that matches will have a bigger payout and the championship pot has thus far been estimated to be approximately five hundred-thousand dollars, easily enough for Tamba to get himself and Tete out of the ghetto.
Family:
Mustafa Shariati: Father, deceased
Kiara Shariati: Mother, deceased
Siafa “Tete” Shariati: Brother - 8
Mary King: Foster mother - 49
Relationships
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Power: 3 , Super-System: 8
Power: Tamba has the ability to absorb metahuman attacks. It works like this: Whenever a metahuman uses their abilities, they release metahuman energy from their cells, which fuels their abilities. When Tamba comes in contact with metahuman energy released from another person, he can absorb some of it, increasing his own strength, speed, and healing factor. The ability comes with a built-in resistance to most offensive metahuman attacks. Your average metahuman attack does about half as much damage to Tamba as it would to anyone else. In addition to this, hitting Tamba with a metahuman attack actually makes him stronger. When hit multiple times by attacks containing metahuman energy, Tamba’s body begins a process in which his brain releases pain-killing hormones, dampening the pain so that it doesn’t affect him as much and allowing him to keep fighting. At his strongest (at the end of the Titus fight, where he sustained the most damage), Tamba’s punches hit with a force of about 3,000 lbs, strong enough to shatter bones and bend metal. Tamba has no form of an adaptive healing factor, but the more he is hit by metahuman attacks, the more durable he becomes. A punch that would have broken bones when it strikes Tamba the first time will not do as much damage the second time. At peak durability, Tamba can slug it out with the strongest superhumans and receive relatively minimal damage. This makes Tamba an incredible fighter because he gets stronger the later into the rounds he progresses, whereas most enemies get weaker. In addition to this, Tamba is immune to some telepathic abilities, as he can absorb the waves of energy sent out by the telepaths. This prevents them from being able to read his mind but also throws up a red flag to most telepaths, making him easier to track.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: Firstly, Tamba’s abilities to jack squat to normal attacks. If a normal person or a person with no ability aiding their punch hits Tamba, his power will do nothing to protect him. The power only works for attacks which are made by a metahuman. So while superhuman punches and electrokinetic energy blasts do not damage him as much as they would damage a normal person, a normal punch or a lightning strike would do just as much damage to Tamba as it would for your average joe. If a metahuman attacks Tamba with a weapon, his ability will do nothing to stop it (unless, of course, his durability increases enough to stop the attack, but it never gets strong enough to stop bullets and he has to be at peak absorption to stop a knife due to its structure). Secondly, Tamba has no actually immunity to any power, with the exception of direct telepathy. An attack that deals 1,600 pound of force to a normal person may only deal 800 pounds of force to Tamba, but 800 pounds of force can still damage you. The best way to defeat Tamba is to hit him with a full-power blast at the beginning of a fight to do as much damage as possible before his durability kicks in. If one is able to bumrush Tamba with a flurry of powerful attacks before he absorbs enough energy to deal with them, he can be defeated without his power even kicking in. Finally, Tamba does not work well against animal metas. For some reason, be it that they release energy differently or what, attacks from animal metas do more damage to Tamba than other types of attacks do. If Tamba would absorb 800 pounds of force from a 1600 pound attack from a normal meta, then he would only absorb about 400 pounds of force from that same attack if the user was an animal meta.
Other:
Sample Post: “IN THIS CORNER, WEIGHING IN AT A WHOPPING TWO-HUNDRED-AND-FORTY FIVE POUNDS, THE MENDEL MONSTER, EMILIO MONEY MARTINEZ!”
The crowd above cheered and jeered like competing blasts of thunder as the challenger entered the ring. He was a short, stocky character, hispanic in heritage with dark hair and skin. He flexed his muscles to the crowd and the cheers rose louder. He looked to his right, and hissed like a snake as he saw people booing and giving him the finger. Up above, a glass bottle shattered and there was a scream as a drunken fight broke out. The heavy grating above protected the fighters from attacks, but it also made the arena appear as if it were a dark pit of Hell.
All of a sudden, the cheering stopped as a loud gong resonated through the building. An African drumbeat drowned out the audience as the announcer took his podium once more and screamed into the mic.
“AND IN THIS CORNER, WEIGHING IN AT TWO-HUNDRED-AND-THIRTY POUNDS, THE AFRICAN ANIMAL, THE UGANDAN USURPER, THE THREE-TIME REIGNING CHAMPION OF THE MENDEL FIGHTING CIRCUIT, TAMBAAAAA SHAAAARIIIIIAAAAATTIIIIIIIIIIIII!” The crowd went nuclear as the tall African man entered the ring wearing the gold-colored gloves of the Metahuman Circuit Boxing champion. He pounded his chest like a gorilla and yelled something incoherent to the audience over their roar. The referee, a very large man with skin the color of stone, walked to the middle of the ring, and both fighters approached. Emilio jumped around a bit, showing off and winking at women in the crowd with his viper-like eyes, but Tamba just stared straight ahead, as if into the soul of his opponent. The referee grabbed their boxing gloves and stated the rules.
“Alright fellas,” he began in a deep, gravely voice “I want a clean fight! No rabbit punches, no cheap shots, no spitting, no swearing, no-” the voice trailed off in Tamba’s mind as the two fighters locked eyes. It was time to bring home the bacon once more. He envisioned himself as a massive lion bearing down on its prey, tearing into flesh and crushing bone. The referee finished with “no regeneration or use of poison! Now let’s fight!”. The two fighters touched gloves and returned to their corners. Tamba’s trainer awaited him, a small Hispanic man with a strong mustache.
“Alright champ, this guy should be easy.” the trainer said “He’s strong and fast, but so are you. Just let him get a few hits in and then attack. He’ll be out cold by round five!” He clapped his hands heavily on Tamba’s shoulders and put in his mouth piece. Tamba rose his gloves up to his chest as a scantily-clad woman walked across the boxing ring with a sign reading “Round One”. The referee sat at a kiosk on one side of the square ring with the bell in his hand. [/i]This is is, Tamba. It’s all you now Let’s kick some ass.[/i]
“Fighters ready!” the referee roared. Showtime. Tamba cracked his neck to the side and rose his golden gloves up to fighting height.
“Fight!” The ring echoed through the pit, and the fighters were off.
“Let’s go!” the trainer yelled. Tamba took off across the ring, practically running at Emilio, who almost effortlessly let off a flurry of jabs towards Tamba’s stomach. Tamba blocked the two highest ones, but allowed the others to collide with his stomach. If one listened close enough, they could almost hear a tiny electric “zap!” Tamba swung a left hook at Emilio’s head, who blocked and struck back, nailing Tamba in the shoulder with a right jab. The crowd roared louder and louder as the two exchanged punches and weaved out of the way of attacks. The more punches they threw, the harder Tamba’s punches hit. Emilio swung a left hook and nailed Tamba in the side of the head. Tamba stumbled across the ring and landed on his side, his ears ringing. As the pain melted away, he rose back up to his feet with ease. The first round ended and he walked back to his corner.
Three rounds later, it was a much different fight. Tamba took off like a rocket, just like he had in the first round, and unleashed a blizzard of jabs onto his opponent. The first one hit Emilio’s glove and sent him sliding back six inches. The others weren’t nearly as kind. Tamba pinned Emilio against one of the four posts and unleashed his full fury. Emilio tried to fight back, but not even a jab to the face slightly bothered Tamba. It was as if his skin had become stone. As Emilio tried to escape, Tamba swung a right hook and mashed the serpent man in the left eye so hard that he flew out of the ring and crashed into the padded concrete outside. He wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.
“AND THE WINNER IS, TAAAAMBAAAA SHAAAAAARRRIIIIIIIIAAAAAATIIIIIIIIII” Tamba looked up at the crowd as the referee hoisted his gloved hand in the air and picked out an elderly woman with a small African boy standing in front of her, looking down and cheering! He nodded to Tete, and smiled. They would eat well tonight.
Little Bill Unbannable
Member
Seen
10 days ago
Name: Leonard S. Boggs
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Lenny
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Height: 5'6
Weight: 132 lbs
Home District: Courtwall Harbor
Appearance
Hair Color: Red
Eye Color: Blue
Ethnicity: Caucasian (His ancestry is a mix of several European countries)
Physical Appearance: At a glance, Lenny can be mistaken for a mop. A pale, lanky youth of 16, Lenny is only recognizable in crowds for his bright red hair -- Other than that, he's very easy to miss. He slouches, smells like stale sweat, and hides most of his thin frame under layers of hoodies and baggy shirts.
Underneath those layers of clothes, however, is a lithe and limber young man. He holds very little fat, and has a body fit for a gymnast or swimmer. His pubescent limbs seem awkwardly too long for his body with thin, narrow fingers and toes. His face is most noticeably affected by this overall thinness, with a jaw that pokes out visibly, accentuated by his pointed cheekbones and thin lips. He holds something of a delicate face, despite his intensely vacant eyes.
He generally dislikes having his picture taken.
Personality: Unfortunately for Lenny, the only thing simple about him are his tastes. He enjoys breakfast food, scifi, 90's rock, and pretty brunettes. His brother's reputation makes him an outcast in most circles, which he claims to enjoy, preferring his own company to that of others. However, having the brother he has isn't the only thing keeping him from having many friends. Lenny's lack of social skills and readiness to fight do that well enough on their own. Because of this combination, Lenny spends most of his time on his own, watching movies or cartoons, getting drunk, flipping through comics, or taking walks through the city or wilderness. Lenny is something of a loner, needless to say.
He secretly pines for a genuine friendship, rather than the few acquaintances he has. His experiences have thickened his skin a fair deal, causing him to toughen up at an early age -- From a psychological viewpoint, having to grow up quickly has caused Lenny to crave the childhood he feels he missed out on, which he experiences through the countless fantasy-based movies, shows, graphic novels, and action figures he has.
Aside from Lenny's escapism and loneliness, the final major aspect of his personality is his short fuse. Living with his abusive older brother, Lenny has found that the best defense is a good offense, and while he is generally down to earth and easygoing, Lenny lashes out under the right circumstances. He has poor control over his emotions, and has frequently been put into detention for fighting.
Although he is blunt, awkward, and quick to a fight, he is secretly a gentle soul who craves friendship above all else.
Hobbies/Interests: As mentioned above, Lenny spends his time alone, for the most part. He is an avid comic fan, reading everything from Golden-Age superhero comics, to gritty detective noir stories. His favorite genre is fantasy, or generally "Everything that has swords". He is a fan of Star-Trek, although he dislikes Star Wars. Aside from other geeky interests like shows and online roleplaying, he enjoys long walks through the city, or the woods surrounding Black Falls. Above all, however, Lenny enjoys using his metahuman abilities, although it is strictly in private. He rarely fires his energy off, as it draws unwanted attention, preferring to simply redirect it in ways that amuse him, usually making the Christmas lights in his room "dance".
Skills/Talents: Aside from honing his energy absorption, Lenny is a skilled mountain-biker, using his bike to traverse the city as well as the craggy forests and hills. Other than those two, Lenny is self-admittedly talentless, which he has few qualms with.
Prized Possession: Lenny places little value on physical things. However, as his bike is the most expensive thing he owns, it would probably be that.
History/Bio: Leonard Skynyrd Boggs was born at home, in a small apartment in Courtwall Harbor. Although his parents were proud of not being poor enough to live in Dead End, their apartment building was built from the same design as the Leonard Housing Developments, which were only about five blocks away, on the border of Courtwall Harbor and The Dead End, so it made little difference. Lenny was born on the right side of the tracks, technically, but not far enough from the tracks for it to matter.
His parents were blue collar folk from Georgia, who had few problems with their son's illiteracy, and more with the ethnicities of his classmates. Although fearful of Lenny's metahuman abilities that he had displayed since infancy, they registered him with NEST and were generally supportive. They died in a car accident shortly after his sixth birthday, leaving Lenny and his brother Creed in the custody of his grandmother.
With his grandmother a doddering old woman, most of Lenny's upbringing, or lack thereof, was from Creed. Creed shared his metahuman status with Lenny, as he was able to perform "suggestion", forcing his will on others in a telepathic form of mild hypnosis. This ability kept unwanted social worker visits away from the Boggs home, and made sure his status as a metahuman was unregistered. A known violent skinhead, Creed would use his abilities to quickly rise through the ranks of the "Iron Eagles", a small gang that operated in The Dead End.
Although generally kind to Lenny, he tends to have fits of violent rage, frequently lashing out at his younger brother. He is persistent in his belief that Lenny should join the Iron Eagles, as his metahuman abilities would be a valuable asset. Needless to say, Lenny has always avoided the group like the plague -- After all, those who know of them usually know of their leader, and those who know him have usually heard of his younger brother, Lenny. Because of this, Lenny is avoided by many of his peers out of fear and distrust.
Family:
Grandmother - Susan Boggs
Brother - Creed Boggs
Relationships
Creedence C. Boggs | Fears | Brother | "For a Nazi, Creed is decent. At best. Nobody knows what he can do but me. He's a scary guy, and I wouldn't cross him." |
Susan Boggs | Pities | Grandmother | "My mema's gettin' there in age. She doesn't talk much, and when she does, she rambles. Poor old girl." |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Elemental 8
Power: Lenny can absorb, redirect, and expel energy. This pertains to all types of energy, although Lenny sticks to mainly three: Kinetic, thermal, and electric. When absorbing energy, Lenny can either siphon it slowly from a distance, or more quickly with direct physical contact.
When expelling it, the combination of whatever he's absorbed takes the form of a blue plasmoid, either as a blast, beam, or wave, dealing concussive force. Redirecting energy is a combination of both, absorbing through one arm and firing it from the other, making himself a conductor. This is usually reserved for large amounts of energy he can't safely absorb.
Aside from this plasma energy, Lenny can also use the energy in its natural form, using electric energy to fuel or short out devices, thermal energy to warm himself, or kinetic energy to speed up a baseball.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: Most notably, Lenny cannot move and absorb energy simultaneously. Doing so by being pushed or on his own accord would cause him to lose focus, and react to the energy he's absorbed the same as any normal human -- Electric energy would shock him, thermal energy would burn him, and kinetic energy would continue at an unhampered speed.
Additionally, Lenny can't absorb a large amount of energy without immediately burning it off or redirecting it, or he will risk ashing. Putting out a large fire, stopping a speeding train, or absorbing other large amounts all put him at risk of "overdosing".
Lastly, Lenny's plasma bolts can injure him with the recoil they present. As he's only able to fire them from his hands, a beam too large, or from redirecting too much energy at once, could potentially break his arms, or blow them off.
Other: Lenny is named after Lynyrd Skynyrd, while his brother is named after Creedence Clearwater Revival.
Sample Post: "How have things been in classes, Len?" Mr. James said in a soft, cool voice. Mr. James was Lenny's counselor at school, who was assigned to students with behavioral problems, which were usually either cutting school, or fighting. Lenny was guilty of both. "Alright, I guess." He lied. Lenny didn't like Mr. James's attitude. He tried so desperately to seem cool and relatable, even though it was only to get kids like him to fess up about what they'd done. He peppered his conversation with modern slang, and insisted that students call him Mr. James, and not Mr. Grekowski.
"If you're so chill, why do we call you Mr. James, and not just James?" Lenny thought to himself. He squirmed uncomfortably in the seat. He hated these interrogations.
"I hear from one of your teachers, thaaaat, you haven't been coming to class every day," Mr. James said, leaning back into his chair. "What's up with that, Len?"
Lenny practically winced at the nickname, and then shrugged. "Sometimes I'm late, or whatever. I live far."
Mr. James nodded, jotting Lenny's words into a notepad on his desk. "That bro of yours been waking you up to leave on time?"
"Yep." Lenny lied again. Creed hadn't woken him up to go to school in months, and Lenny didn't have a problem with that at all. "Can I go now?" Lenny asked, practically praying that his counselor would let him.
"Only if you promise me you'll be getting right back into class next period, broski." Mr. James said, holding his fist out for a pound. Lenny sheepishly tapped his knuckles to his, and nodded.
Lenny grabbed his bag, and left the office, right on time for the bell to ring. He glided through the crowded halls to his locker, opened it, and took his bag out. Leaving it unlocked, he quickly waded through the mass of people in the halls, before leaving through the front door. There was always a crowd there, after all. Some people had different schedules and got out earlier, so Lenny avoided suspicion by leaving with them. He took a breath of fresh air, and pulled a bent cigarette out of his bag.
Fiddling through his pocket, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Shit. He had left his lighter at home, and it'd be a long walk home without his usual nicotine break. He kept walking from the school, until he was a safe two blocks away, before scouting out his target. It was a car at a red light. A blue Prius, specifically. Lenny put the unlit cigarette in his mouth, and began walking across the street. As he passed the car's rear end, he took his hand out of his pocket, touching the door, as if he were wiping dirt off it. The car's headlights dimmed for a split second, and continued as bright as ever afterwards.
"A victimless crime." Lenny thought to himself. After all, it'd amount to, what? Three bucks worth of car-battery juice that he had taken? He pinched the end of the cigarette for a moment, before quickly waving his singed fingers in the air. A satisfying plume of smoke came out of the end of his cigarette, and Lenny smiled to himself.
"Gonna be a good day, yessir."
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Lenny
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Height: 5'6
Weight: 132 lbs
Home District: Courtwall Harbor
Appearance
Hair Color: Red
Eye Color: Blue
Ethnicity: Caucasian (His ancestry is a mix of several European countries)
Physical Appearance: At a glance, Lenny can be mistaken for a mop. A pale, lanky youth of 16, Lenny is only recognizable in crowds for his bright red hair -- Other than that, he's very easy to miss. He slouches, smells like stale sweat, and hides most of his thin frame under layers of hoodies and baggy shirts.
Underneath those layers of clothes, however, is a lithe and limber young man. He holds very little fat, and has a body fit for a gymnast or swimmer. His pubescent limbs seem awkwardly too long for his body with thin, narrow fingers and toes. His face is most noticeably affected by this overall thinness, with a jaw that pokes out visibly, accentuated by his pointed cheekbones and thin lips. He holds something of a delicate face, despite his intensely vacant eyes.
He generally dislikes having his picture taken.
Personality: Unfortunately for Lenny, the only thing simple about him are his tastes. He enjoys breakfast food, scifi, 90's rock, and pretty brunettes. His brother's reputation makes him an outcast in most circles, which he claims to enjoy, preferring his own company to that of others. However, having the brother he has isn't the only thing keeping him from having many friends. Lenny's lack of social skills and readiness to fight do that well enough on their own. Because of this combination, Lenny spends most of his time on his own, watching movies or cartoons, getting drunk, flipping through comics, or taking walks through the city or wilderness. Lenny is something of a loner, needless to say.
He secretly pines for a genuine friendship, rather than the few acquaintances he has. His experiences have thickened his skin a fair deal, causing him to toughen up at an early age -- From a psychological viewpoint, having to grow up quickly has caused Lenny to crave the childhood he feels he missed out on, which he experiences through the countless fantasy-based movies, shows, graphic novels, and action figures he has.
Aside from Lenny's escapism and loneliness, the final major aspect of his personality is his short fuse. Living with his abusive older brother, Lenny has found that the best defense is a good offense, and while he is generally down to earth and easygoing, Lenny lashes out under the right circumstances. He has poor control over his emotions, and has frequently been put into detention for fighting.
Although he is blunt, awkward, and quick to a fight, he is secretly a gentle soul who craves friendship above all else.
Hobbies/Interests: As mentioned above, Lenny spends his time alone, for the most part. He is an avid comic fan, reading everything from Golden-Age superhero comics, to gritty detective noir stories. His favorite genre is fantasy, or generally "Everything that has swords". He is a fan of Star-Trek, although he dislikes Star Wars. Aside from other geeky interests like shows and online roleplaying, he enjoys long walks through the city, or the woods surrounding Black Falls. Above all, however, Lenny enjoys using his metahuman abilities, although it is strictly in private. He rarely fires his energy off, as it draws unwanted attention, preferring to simply redirect it in ways that amuse him, usually making the Christmas lights in his room "dance".
Skills/Talents: Aside from honing his energy absorption, Lenny is a skilled mountain-biker, using his bike to traverse the city as well as the craggy forests and hills. Other than those two, Lenny is self-admittedly talentless, which he has few qualms with.
Prized Possession: Lenny places little value on physical things. However, as his bike is the most expensive thing he owns, it would probably be that.
History/Bio: Leonard Skynyrd Boggs was born at home, in a small apartment in Courtwall Harbor. Although his parents were proud of not being poor enough to live in Dead End, their apartment building was built from the same design as the Leonard Housing Developments, which were only about five blocks away, on the border of Courtwall Harbor and The Dead End, so it made little difference. Lenny was born on the right side of the tracks, technically, but not far enough from the tracks for it to matter.
His parents were blue collar folk from Georgia, who had few problems with their son's illiteracy, and more with the ethnicities of his classmates. Although fearful of Lenny's metahuman abilities that he had displayed since infancy, they registered him with NEST and were generally supportive. They died in a car accident shortly after his sixth birthday, leaving Lenny and his brother Creed in the custody of his grandmother.
With his grandmother a doddering old woman, most of Lenny's upbringing, or lack thereof, was from Creed. Creed shared his metahuman status with Lenny, as he was able to perform "suggestion", forcing his will on others in a telepathic form of mild hypnosis. This ability kept unwanted social worker visits away from the Boggs home, and made sure his status as a metahuman was unregistered. A known violent skinhead, Creed would use his abilities to quickly rise through the ranks of the "Iron Eagles", a small gang that operated in The Dead End.
Although generally kind to Lenny, he tends to have fits of violent rage, frequently lashing out at his younger brother. He is persistent in his belief that Lenny should join the Iron Eagles, as his metahuman abilities would be a valuable asset. Needless to say, Lenny has always avoided the group like the plague -- After all, those who know of them usually know of their leader, and those who know him have usually heard of his younger brother, Lenny. Because of this, Lenny is avoided by many of his peers out of fear and distrust.
Family:
Grandmother - Susan Boggs
Brother - Creed Boggs
Relationships
Creedence C. Boggs | Fears | Brother | "For a Nazi, Creed is decent. At best. Nobody knows what he can do but me. He's a scary guy, and I wouldn't cross him." |
Susan Boggs | Pities | Grandmother | "My mema's gettin' there in age. She doesn't talk much, and when she does, she rambles. Poor old girl." |
Abilities
Power Class & Rating: Elemental 8
Power: Lenny can absorb, redirect, and expel energy. This pertains to all types of energy, although Lenny sticks to mainly three: Kinetic, thermal, and electric. When absorbing energy, Lenny can either siphon it slowly from a distance, or more quickly with direct physical contact.
When expelling it, the combination of whatever he's absorbed takes the form of a blue plasmoid, either as a blast, beam, or wave, dealing concussive force. Redirecting energy is a combination of both, absorbing through one arm and firing it from the other, making himself a conductor. This is usually reserved for large amounts of energy he can't safely absorb.
Aside from this plasma energy, Lenny can also use the energy in its natural form, using electric energy to fuel or short out devices, thermal energy to warm himself, or kinetic energy to speed up a baseball.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: Most notably, Lenny cannot move and absorb energy simultaneously. Doing so by being pushed or on his own accord would cause him to lose focus, and react to the energy he's absorbed the same as any normal human -- Electric energy would shock him, thermal energy would burn him, and kinetic energy would continue at an unhampered speed.
Additionally, Lenny can't absorb a large amount of energy without immediately burning it off or redirecting it, or he will risk ashing. Putting out a large fire, stopping a speeding train, or absorbing other large amounts all put him at risk of "overdosing".
Lastly, Lenny's plasma bolts can injure him with the recoil they present. As he's only able to fire them from his hands, a beam too large, or from redirecting too much energy at once, could potentially break his arms, or blow them off.
Other: Lenny is named after Lynyrd Skynyrd, while his brother is named after Creedence Clearwater Revival.
Sample Post: "How have things been in classes, Len?" Mr. James said in a soft, cool voice. Mr. James was Lenny's counselor at school, who was assigned to students with behavioral problems, which were usually either cutting school, or fighting. Lenny was guilty of both. "Alright, I guess." He lied. Lenny didn't like Mr. James's attitude. He tried so desperately to seem cool and relatable, even though it was only to get kids like him to fess up about what they'd done. He peppered his conversation with modern slang, and insisted that students call him Mr. James, and not Mr. Grekowski.
"If you're so chill, why do we call you Mr. James, and not just James?" Lenny thought to himself. He squirmed uncomfortably in the seat. He hated these interrogations.
"I hear from one of your teachers, thaaaat, you haven't been coming to class every day," Mr. James said, leaning back into his chair. "What's up with that, Len?"
Lenny practically winced at the nickname, and then shrugged. "Sometimes I'm late, or whatever. I live far."
Mr. James nodded, jotting Lenny's words into a notepad on his desk. "That bro of yours been waking you up to leave on time?"
"Yep." Lenny lied again. Creed hadn't woken him up to go to school in months, and Lenny didn't have a problem with that at all. "Can I go now?" Lenny asked, practically praying that his counselor would let him.
"Only if you promise me you'll be getting right back into class next period, broski." Mr. James said, holding his fist out for a pound. Lenny sheepishly tapped his knuckles to his, and nodded.
Lenny grabbed his bag, and left the office, right on time for the bell to ring. He glided through the crowded halls to his locker, opened it, and took his bag out. Leaving it unlocked, he quickly waded through the mass of people in the halls, before leaving through the front door. There was always a crowd there, after all. Some people had different schedules and got out earlier, so Lenny avoided suspicion by leaving with them. He took a breath of fresh air, and pulled a bent cigarette out of his bag.
Fiddling through his pocket, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Shit. He had left his lighter at home, and it'd be a long walk home without his usual nicotine break. He kept walking from the school, until he was a safe two blocks away, before scouting out his target. It was a car at a red light. A blue Prius, specifically. Lenny put the unlit cigarette in his mouth, and began walking across the street. As he passed the car's rear end, he took his hand out of his pocket, touching the door, as if he were wiping dirt off it. The car's headlights dimmed for a split second, and continued as bright as ever afterwards.
"A victimless crime." Lenny thought to himself. After all, it'd amount to, what? Three bucks worth of car-battery juice that he had taken? He pinched the end of the cigarette for a moment, before quickly waving his singed fingers in the air. A satisfying plume of smoke came out of the end of his cigarette, and Lenny smiled to himself.
"Gonna be a good day, yessir."
OP
Evil Ghost Note I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU
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I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU
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