Val watched Shattercrash's introduction with a modicum of interest in seeing her power in action.
Her powers were pink, too? His decision to refer to her as the Neon eyesore felt ever more validated at the realisation. Who knew he was psychic?
His eyes traced the trail of her energy blast until it hit a wall. Even then, as the kinetic energy dispersed throughout the material of the room, he still kept track of its effects.
Val sensed more than he felt the vibrations of Shattercrash's little demonstration. An ordinary person might have been bothered by it, but that wasn't the case for him anymore. Instead, he was more interested in whatever the material was that the room was made from. It was weird, to say the least. Weird in a way that he couldn't quite understand, yet. There wasn't much he could glean from its capabilities. It was still a bit off-putting how much more his power made him aware of sometimes. Cool, too. If you could get past all the negatives, that is. Eh, it could've been worse. He could have been stuck with–
Suddenly the door was flung open once again, and a new person stepped in. This time, it wasn't a Ward, nor was it anyone Val even vaguely recognised. So, probably not a member of the Protectorate, then. The newcomer introduced himself as the Vice-director of the PRT. His name faded into irrelevance in Val's mind, but something else he said didn't.
Val's fingers paused.
A bank robbery?
.... Maybe this day wouldn't be so boring after all.
That said, the change did require confirmation on something. To that end, Val raised a hand languidly, barely waiting a moment before asking the only question he needed answered.
"So, "excessive force". Is that a thing or...?"
The words left an odd taste in his mouth. He never quite understood what all of the fuss was about. He considered it a job well done as long as the enemy was down and out for the count. That was the miss-job in the end, right? And they were bad guys, too. Still, he'd rather ask now than later be reprimanded for pow–breaking a few too many bones. It wasn't even a big deal anyway; people had like a hundred of them.
Out of the corner of his eye, Val noticed the rat-bird had shot up in height significantly. It was practically the size of a building now!
Val heard footsteps approaching. Judging by the weight of the steps and their sound pattern, it was probably Nightstalker. He wondered what the senior Cape wanted.
A crisp snap rang out next to him. It might have been loud if he hadn't already been focusing on something else.
"You can sleep later, Richter."
So, that was it. A simple misunderstanding brought on by the fact that his eyes were closed.
"I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Nightstalker," he intoned before shifting slightly to face Axiom and Grandmaster, "But that is just wishful thinking."
Val watched Axiom remove her helmet, revealing most of her face—huh, she had freckles—as she began talking, trying to reassure them about their choices and potential indecision. She was being genuine from what he could tell, which was something, he supposed. It didn't do much to sway his heart either way—if only she'd been there when words actually mattered to him.
The fact she made an attempt was nice, at least.
Grandmaster followed up after her, though his words were more succinct. A simple, harmless statement.
Except for the Neon Eyesore, apparently.
The latest Ward's viewpoint was understandable. The Ward training wasn't exactly useful for Val. He was already better trained than they could ever have made him if he had been inexperienced before. He wouldn't have survived this long if he'd been so incapable as to need to learn these things so late in life. Nothing they taught him was particularly helpful, but then again, it hadn't been very long since he started. The other, less-experienced Wards probably gained a lot more from the training. Not her, though. He could tell that she actually knew how to handle herself.
The same couldn't be said for most of them.
Oh, and the Neon girl also asked about their powers too. It was a good thing since he had no intention of bringing up the subject himself. Though, he would be lying if he said he wasn't at least somewhat interested.
The first person to respond to the question was the cloning girl. Val was already aware of the cloning aspect of her power, but the second part came as a bit of a surprise. That was super useful. Why didn't his power give him a pocket dimension instead of just breaking things? It certainly explained some things. Like where she got that candy she was now offering everyone.
Of course, he wasn't going to accept any. Even he knew not to take candy from strangers.
That cloning ability of hers would make it difficult to take her down since she could be in several places at once. There were quite a few ways she could be put to good use by a better strategist than he.
Val's attention was drawn elsewhere and he watched as the rat-thing grabbed one of the candies that the cloning girl offered and popped it into its.... fur? Did it even have a mouth? It could talk so he assumed so, but he wasn't an expert on whatever kind of biology a rat-thing would have. Its outward appearance wasn't the only thing that was screwed up. Still, Val watched in interest as the creature staggered back as if struck and.... shrank? Huh, that was weird.
The girl in the white dress was the second person to actually reveal her power. According to her explanation, she was a Master with the ability to make people do whatever she said. Her voice cut out the moment she said it, and he had to read her lips to find out the rest. He'd have to address that particular issue posthaste.
Trust making her power more effective wouldn't be a problem though. Probably.
At the very least, she didn't seem too bad, considering she had given them a warning beforehand. It could have been worse.
Anyway, on to the third Ward; the aforementioned giant rat-thing.
He was a Changer with the ability to turn into.... a big ol' rat-thing. Obviously. He also proceeded to list off the advantages his rat-thing form granted him — flight (obviously), super strength (but he hadn't tested it for some reason), sound-muffling fur (and feathers), enhanced sight and hearing, and bird-like talons, but not the ability to turn his head 270 degrees (disappointing). On further thought, he was more of a rat-bird creature than anything else, though that didn't explain the scales. Val did, however, note that the transformation seemed to be tied to his emotional state somehow.
He wondered if the rat-bird had hollow bones like a real bird, too.
The Grump was the next to introduce himself, not that Val cared much for it. He was probably the least interesting of the Wards so far. He was a Thinker, as expected. Val didn't see how giving someone emotional damage was a superpower, but the rest wasn't entirely useless. The Grump showed off his power at work by calling out the weaknesses of two(?) of the other Wards and a part of the password to the admin computer, whatever that was. He even knew about the weirdness of the walls too and–
He just put a knife to his neck.... Huh. This was an odd time for suicide. Then again, was there even such a thing as a good time for self-offing?
Aw. He knew it was just posturing, but it would've been cool to–
A loud laugh cut his thoughts off and drew Val's attention to the girl in the black catsuit. It was a full-on sociopath laugh. He would know; he grew up around them. Her power was also incredibly well-suited to that sort of personality. Being able to change people's morality was something, for sure, especially in the hands of a unique individual like Ethos. He couldn't imagine what it would do to someone like him.
If she could touch him, that was.
The next Ward to make an introduction was the yellow-armoured girl, Hornet. She was a teleporter, with a pinch of invulnerability to go along with it. Neat. He wondered what the range on it was.
After her, no one else spoke up for a few moments, so Val decided to do so himself.
"Guess now is my turn, then," Val straightened on his couch, not quite sitting up yet, "Call me Richter. I can do this."
Val held up the coin he'd been spinning and allowed his concentration to falter for just a moment. In the blink of an eye, the metal turned into dust and drifted away. His glove remained spotless.
He flashed a lopsided smile at his fellow Wards, "I suggest you not get too close. I cannot turn it off."
With his piece said, he fished out another coin from one of his many pockets and began spinning it between his fingers once again.
People continued trickling in one after another for some time, but Val paid them little mind, keeping his attention on his own hands. His eyes furrowed as he focused intently. To anyone looking at him, it may seem as if he wasn't paying attention to anything else, but that couldn't have been further from the truth.
Someone said something to him, but he remained unmoved. From the corner of his eye, he took in the appearance of the person addressing him and raised a delicate brow. The newcomer's attire was drab—not like he was one to talk—and seemed to be purposefully made for.... intimidation? Maybe. He'd sit on that for a while. It bore a superficial resemblance to his costume, and similarly, gave no indication as to what his power was. Though, judging by his shifting glances and the way he moved; untrained but attentive and oddly tense, Val assumed it was mentally inclined. It was hard to tell with the get-up he was wearing.
A thinker, maybe?
Whatever it was, he had a lovely personality to go along with it. Henceforth, Val decided that he would be dubbed "Grump".
.... Well, he never claimed to be good at coming up with names.
He walked off before Val even had a chance to respond. Not that he was planning to. It looked like he was going to complain about something to one of the Protectorate members. He was either ridiculously easy to agitate or.... something else.
As for the next one in line....
If Val could still feel it, he probably would have flinched as something all but stumbled in, all feathers, gangly limbs and fur. It looked like an oversized rat with feathers; a rat-thing. Probably a Changer, or maybe a.... whatever those other things were called. He never paid them much mind before. It was tall, incredibly so, and yet it also seemed so small at the same time. The first word that came to Val's mind was anxious. Very anxious. The second word was "easy-target". It was easily the most outwardly intimidating person in the room, and yet the best thing Val could find to compare it to was a water-logged puppy, curled up on the couch as it was. The juxtaposition of its frightful appearance and skittish mannerisms was somewhat jarring at first. After the initial surprise wore off though, it was a lot easier to read. Who would have thought such a freakish creature could have such transparent expressions?
With that assessment made, Val's eyes moved on.
The third Ward to enter, after the rat-thing, was a girl maybe a bit older than he was, dressed in a black catsuit with a white dress over it. Her mask covered her eyes, and not much else. He looked her over in more detail, and he saw....
Well, that was interesting.
She didn't have the usual kind of detachment that came from experience. It was lesser, but more familiar than that, like a blast from the past. Val hadn't expected to meet someone like that in a place like this. Of course, she was nowhere near as unhinged as the person he was thinking of, but the similarity was there. But, since he'd rather not think about that right now, he turned his gaze away.
Next up, was–
Oh, someone was talking to the rat-thing. It was another girl, older than the last one, and dressed in a gold-highlighted white dress and a likewise white mask. She was engaged in conversation with the anxious-looking rat-thing. She was claiming to be nervous as well, though he had an inkling it was for a somewhat different reason. Her odd reaction to her own words only served to reinforce his assumption.
Val tilted his head slightly to better hear their conversation. It was mostly just introductions, but at least he could finally put names to faces, even if it were only two of them. It was better than nothing.
Another girl walked, dressed brighter than the others, and Val shifted slightly to get a better look at her, never once pausing his coin-spinning; it was important work. Like the first girl to arrive, she was armoured, though hers was bright yellow. He wished he could wear armour, cooler armour than hers of course, but still. He wasn't going to hold his breath on that though. Fibres were one thing, but anything more solid was going to have issues. It was kind of surprising actually, the fact that so few of the Wards he'd seen were wearing body armour. Weren't they afraid of getting shot? He didn't think all of them were bullet-proof, or adjacent.
He couldn't get a good read on her yet; helmets were a bitch that way.
Soft words coming from the front drew his attention, and the words became clearer as he focused. Grandmaster told the dark-garbed Ward—the other one—something about his teammates not being inept, and their number too. His outburst after the fact was odd, though not entirely unexpected, considering his earlier remarks.
So, the Grump wasn't a fan of the way the Protectorate was handling the Wards? There was always at least one....
Grandmaster and Axion turned to each other and spoke briefly about someone who apparently should have been here. The last Ward, probably. Val was about to tune them out until Axiom pulled out an object from her suit which summoned several small containers from somewhere. Neat. He listened intently as she explained what they were and what they did. Some kind of protection from Master influences, which he believed 100%. No doubt, really. The earpieces would definitely....
.... Hold on, how was he supposed to–
His thoughts were interrupted by someone bursting through the door rather loudly.
The rat-thing Ward practically jumped out of its skin when it happened, and Val stifled an exaggerated laugh. The reaction of the Grump from before was similar, if a bit more combative. These guys were on a hair-trigger, weren't they?
The slightest noise and they freaked out. Like rats in a cage.
But, he would admit that entrance was unnecessary unless the newcomer was trying to scare someone. Unnecessary but fun, he'd imagine. Val's first impression of the new Ward was.... well, she was certainly pink, and purple. Other than that, she at least looked like she could hold her hold in a fight, which was more than he could say for most of the others.
She also looked familiar, but neither her face nor her costume rang any bells in his mind. If she was anyone important, he would have remembered.
Satisfied with having taken a look at everyone, he adjusted his position on the couch to make himself more comfortable, but not too comfortable. And with that done, Val closed his eyes and dozed off.
No more passengers were streaming into the stadium. Whether that meant everyone was accounted for or not, Hail wasn't quite sure. Either way, now that the holographic displays were finally cut off, in a manner not too dissimilar to the opening ceremony, people weren't panicking quite as much anymore. That was fortunate. All they had to do now was wait for the captain to–
Hail paused, brows furrowing as he stared up at the judges' panel and the three masked people standing there.
What the...?
“Hello, darlings, this is your captain speaking again, yoo-hoo. For once, can you all just be quiet? My goodness, every time we do this…’
"What the captain means to say is, you are safe, remain calm."
Did they honestly believe anyone would fall for that act? If the fact that neither of them even sounded like the captain wasn't enough to make it clear they weren't who they pretended to be, the masks should be the clincher. They were clearly not supposed to be here and were likely responsible for the ship's trembling from before. Even without Ghast's description, that was easy to tell. He vaguely recognised the masks, though he couldn't put a name to them. It certainly wasn't any of the usual suspects, but he knew their type well.
Their exact motive, on the other hand, was more difficult to determine than their intent. It could have been any number of things. They were on a ship packed to the brim with celebrities and potential up-and-comers, after all.
Well, whatever. He could find out after dealing with them.
With a single well-practised motion and a flash of light, Tank rose. He stood tall and proud behind Hail, awaiting his command. Hail didn't waste any time.
"Tank, you–"
Before he could finish his sentence, the ship shook violently and he lost his balance. His back slammed into the Tyranitar's chest and his vision went white for a few seconds. When his vision cleared, the judges' panel was empty.
Dammit.
"Ty?"
Hail groaned and hoisted himself back to his feet, "I'm fine."
He blinked the spots out of his eyes and straightened his jacket. What was–
Time seemed to freeze for a moment as his mind processed what he was seeing.
Val hummed quietly, tugging on his arm guard with maybe a little more force than strictly necessary. It was nearly torn to pieces by his power before he managed to make it still. It was taxing, like trying to rein in a rabid dog, but if he couldn't do this, it'd only get harder. He took a momentary pause, restless energy buzzing underneath his skin without direction. He allowed a single breath to steady his hand and then started to pull the straps across, tightening them one by one by one. Easy enough. No pressure, no–
Something snapped.
Val sighed. He finished securing the straps and turned his arm over, taking in every curve and contour of the covering. They'd implemented his suggested designs on one side and left the other blank. No one knew what the symbols meant. Not even him. Sort of.
The glove chaffed oddly against his skin, every part of his costume did, actually. It was a sensation he was experiencing for the first time in a while.... There were a lot of things he hadn't felt in a while now. An incessant buzzing noise filled his ears and his lips tugged downward in a frown. It stopped.
That was annoying.
He stared down at his hands, wondering. How much did they know? Truly know. Certainly not much, considering they were letting him around other people without a shock collar on, not to mention the access they gave him to certain equipment. His lips quirked upwards slightly. Only time would tell if that was a mistake on their part.
Maybe he could make a more personal request. See how much access he had.
But that would come later.
Val flexed his fingers, watching as the sheaths around them shredded into useless strips of fabric. They never should have bothered with making it like that anyway. Then again, he couldn't blame them too much; he hadn't given them a lot to work with.
A ghost of a smile graced his face as he clenched his hand into a fist. Much better.
Putting his mask on came last, and here, he hesitated. Only for half a second, but that was already too long.
He knew better. Hesitation was a killer.
The mask itself was split in two, and Val opted to only wear the lower half this time. Enhanced vision was nice, but the novelty wore off pretty quickly. And he didn't need it yet.
His eyes scanned the interior of his room one last time. It was normal.... almost disconcertingly so.
Val pressed the palm of his left hand to the wall, closing his eyes to focus. There was an odd "hum" within the walls. It was quiet, barely there. Anyone else likely wouldn't have noticed it, but his power was useful like that.
He smirked and drew his hand back. Well, maybe they weren't that stupid, after all.
Or maybe, he just didn't know anything about construction.
Fully donned in his Cape costume, Val pulled out his Ward-issued phone to check the time. 8:25 flashed across the screen in neon red. After admiring it for a few seconds, he grabbed his door handle and stopped.
Richter stared at his hands again, and he saw red.
He smiled.
June 19, Protectorate HQ 8:45 AMRichter arrived at the meeting room exactly on time. Not a second earlier.
There was already another Ward in the room when he got there. He briefly spared her a glance before moving on.
The others waiting in the meeting room were full-fledged members of the Protectorate. Nightstalker, Axiom.... and Grandmaster. The leader of the Protectorate, in the flesh.
He looked quite different from the last time Val had seen him. Then again, he was delirious from blood loss at the time.
A slow smile spread across his lips.
"I am a big fan. I leave myself in your very capable hands." The words slipped from his lips almost convincingly. Not that they were entirely untrue.
Val walked further into the room after his simple greeting, dropping into one of the couches and taking up most of the available space without a second thought. Just because everyone else was standing around didn't mean he had to. He pulled out a silver coin from one of his pouches and flipped it between his fingers, his attention focused completely on his hand.
Hail blinked at the newcomer. His eyes scanned the stranger's.... unique costume for a moment, and a smirk spread across his lips.
Now there was a recognisable face. It was the loud fire hazard guy from the first round of the contest. He'd given a performance to remember to be sure, if a somewhat reckless one with what happened near the end. But, what was life without a little bit of danger?
Or, potentially a lot, in his case.
It surprised Hail to see him here, but his response came easily nonetheless. "An argument would imply some kind of equivalence. This is just–"
"Esp."
"Irrelevant. I suppose we should head off to the stadium now."
And without any further words, he did just that. As much as he would have liked to investigate what exactly had gone so wrong for the SS Lugia, this simply wasn't the time to do so. There was no telling how the passengers would react if things got any worse—and he believed they would—so he had to stay with them, at least for now. Ghast would hopefully be able to provide a clearer picture once he returned.
Speaking of the Dragapult....
Ghast floated silently, invisible to the world.
He watched the masked trainer recall his fallen Pokemon and observed the security officer approaching two others.
"Draaag...."
His mission complete, the Dragapult turned and floated away, making his way back to his own trainer.
Sai noticed Ghast's presence long before Hail did, and the Espeon filled in her trainer while the ghost-type remained unseen.
"Esp. Espeon."
Hail was quiet for a moment as he processed the information.
".... Is that so? A masked trainer? Well, then, it looks like we have some uninvited guests," he muttered to himself, narrowing his eyes.
Appearance: Val Sydney is a teenager of Slavic descent, standing at roughly 5'7 with a fair complexion. He has a toned and athletic, if somewhat rugged, build developed from an overly active lifestyle. A multitude of scars dot his forearms and knuckles—usually covered by white bandages—as well as his abdomen. He has messy black hair that fades grey at the ends, bright rose-red eyes and a beauty mark underneath his left eye. Val has sharp canines and he likes to use them.
Val usually wears whatever he has in his "closet", not favouring any particular style over any other. He generally doesn't care for dirt, blood or stains on his clothing and he is often described as unkempt, but clean. A silver chain necklace with a shark tooth and scratched-out dog tags attached to it is his only true belonging. In the past, he rarely wore it lest it be used against him, though his power makes that worry now unnecessary.
Richter's costume is simple in design and function, in that it really only has some of the latter and the former was mostly an afterthought.
His current costume consists of a black, hooded cape (he doesn't usually wear it), black leather pants and dark brown boots. The upper chest portion of his costume is covered by a vest engraved with silver patterns across its front. It has a utility belt with multiple pouches containing various tools and first aid supplies. Val also wears brown forearm guards etched with silver engravings, as well as fingerless gloves. A black two-sectioned mask with yellow circular lenses for his eyes, complete with various visual enhancements, hides Val's features both partially and entirely. Despite its relative simplicity, the costume is more durable than it appears, made to dampen any impacts that manage to make it through his "shield".
Personality: Flippant. That's the first-word people usually think of whenever Val is mentioned, and for good reason. He rarely seems to take anything seriously and tends to avoid people when they try talking to him, often changing a conversation's subject to better suit his interest. Val is generally indifferent to the plight of others, though not because of ignorance and likely not due to malice either. As far as has been observed, this is less of a conscious action and more of an instinctual response. Val does not show respect to anyone, regardless of their status, unless they earn it. Very few do. This attitude has made his integration into the Wards.... challenging.
Despite these issues, Val is very much capable of being civil when it comes to more practical matters. He is more than willing to work with others when necessary and is quite good at it, as long as no one tries to order him around. However, his restraint does not typically extend beyond simple necessity. Val also appears to be somewhat emotionally stunted.
Ever since triggering, Val seemingly suffers from a severe form of insomnia, though without any apparent ill effects. This, combined with his excessive amounts of energy, appears to indicate ADHD, though his lack of other discernable symptoms makes this diagnosis unlikely. Val gets somewhat irritable at night since he has a strict curfew and can't do much after hours. He also lies a lot, though usually innocuously and he is brutally honest just as often.
Though outwardly apathetic, Val is more thoughtful than one would think. He regularly goes out of his way to help people and solve problems whenever he can, though mostly out of boredom and not any true sense of empathy. A distinct lack of positive relationships in his past means gaining his trust is unlikely, but once someone earns his respect, he can be an invaluable ally.
Val has a tendency to bite people he finds annoying.
Power Classification: Striker, Thinker (Brute 7/Shaker 4/Mover 2)
Power Description: Richter possesses the ability to freely induce and manipulate vibrations at will, enhancing or decreasing the force of impacts and disrupting molecular bonds. His power is primarily touch-based, though he is capable of extending its range by making it propagate through any of the three states of matter, with varying levels of difficulty. His power provides him with a high level of precision and calculative ability as it requires him to consciously adjust the oscillating frequencies of his "field" near-constantly to interact with objects. Richter can vibrate his own body directly, though doing so leaves him nauseous and faint. Further testing is required.
Richter describes his ability as being able to "turn punches into missiles, stone into dust, water into vapour, air into fire and flesh into ██████████".
Richter's body is constantly surrounded by a "field" of vibrations that violently twists and dismantles anything it makes contact with, granting him a form of nigh-invulnerability, though an object hitting him with sufficient force can bypass his defence, as it cannot block kinetic energy entirely. This weakness becomes less of an issue if Richter merely alters the frequencies of the field to better block kinetic energy. Further testing is required.
The biggest limitations to Richter's powers seem to be knowledge and experience.
Note 1: Richter's ability does not seem to be limited to interacting with inanimate objects, as observed with ██████████.
Note 2: Richter's protective "field" appears to work based on a whitelist of what it allows to pass through and what it doesn't. As of now, he possesses little control over it.
Note 3: Richter's Trigger seems to have somehow altered his body in such a way that he no longer requires any sleep to function. In his own words, since his power doesn't have an "off-switch", neither does he.
Note 4: It is believed that Richter may be hiding the full extent of his abilities.
Strengths: Observation: Val is always paying attention to his surroundings and the people within, even when it doesn't seem like it. With his outstanding memorization skills, he excels at reading people based on minute changes in facial expressions and body language, a skill he developed to predict when a situation is about to escalate or a fight is about to break out.
Parkour: Val is a talented traceur. While his skills are still somewhat unrefined, he is nonetheless capable of traversing difficult urban terrain with some ease.
Combat: A highly proficient combatant, despite having no professional training, Val was often forced to rely on violence to get what he wanted. His skills in hand-to-hand and armed combat are best described as purposefully rough and lacking polish, but effective. He's even had the misfortune of facing off against armed opponents while unarmed, and coming out on top.
How to make people need First Aid: Like most of his skills, Val learnt how to administer first aid out of necessity. As a street orphan, he didn't have anyone to patch him up after he got into fights, which happened quite often. So he learned how to do it himself. It came as somewhat of a challenge to him, considering he was used to doing the opposite to other people.
Weaknesses: Hyper-active: Since his power is always active and has removed the need for him to sleep, Val tends to be full of energy at almost every time of day. Energy which he often struggles to keep under control. While usually not a problem when he has something to occupy himself with, once the object of his attention is removed or otherwise tampered with, he eventually turns to more disruptive, and often self-destructive, behaviours to cope. Being around other people in this state almost always leads to violence.
Education: As far as records show, Val has never attended any educational institutions, though he is literate and does at least possess a basic level of education, which he likely received before he arrived in Bridgewater. Regardless, multiple severe gaps in his overall knowledge need to be addressed.
Empathy: Or rather, the lack of it. Val does not care about people, something he doesn't see as a problem unless it might inconvenience him. He doesn't believe it is important to understand other people or care about their problems. Since his behaviour appears to be learned, it is possible to correct it.
History: The exact origins of Val Sydney are unknown, and he hasn't been keen to share if he even remembered himself.
One thing was for sure; he was a fighter long before he came to Bridgewater. A fact that didn't change even before he triggered.
The first two years of his time in Bridgewater were spent within the foster care system, where he was constantly reprimanded for starting fights with the other children, despite his words to the contrary. In truth, it was merely bias that was the cause of his punishments. Val had previously displayed no signs of aggressive behaviour before the first incident, but the same couldn't be said for afterwards. Eventually, the damage he inflicted upon his fellow foster children escalated to the point where several of them had to be hospitalised. That incident was the straw that finally broke the camel's back. He'd seen it coming, but there was only so much he could do about it.
After being removed from foster care, there is precious little known about Val's activities.
The PRT has attempted to investigate more of Val's history, but all members of his foster home were found to have been killed during the Confessor Disaster. Further attempts have been made to obtain more information. However, Val's refusal to talk about his past has made the investigation fruitless.
Sometime after he was removed from the foster home, Val ran into a familiar face, and an incident occurred. An incident that led to them running afoul of a violent gang calling themselves "The Ivory Basterds". As far as could be found, neither was directly involved with the gang, and any connection was purely incidental. The instigator, a former friend of Val from his "hometown", ████████ was seen leaving the scene.
It didn't take long before Val was hunted down and cornered by the Ivory Basterds, who had decided that they didn't want someone like him around anymore. Despite his best efforts to avoid them, Val was captured and taken to the gang's hideout, along with his hometown friend. There, they spent several hours ██████████ ██████████ ██████████ before Richter triggered.
And he wasn't the only one.
The specifics of what happened next aren't known, only the bits and pieces left in the aftermath. In no small part because Confessor attacked Bridgewater moments later.
What was known, was that the remaining Ivory Basterds started having a very bad time for the next few months.
Val Sydney approached Gatecrasher approximately one year after the Confessor Disaster, not long after the last sighting of the gang. He expressed his intention to join the Wards and though his background, or lack thereof, proved difficult to verify, he was brought in regardless. With some minor caveats.
Several days later, the Ward known as Richter was introduced to the public.
Appearance: Val Sydney is a teenager of Slavic descent, standing at roughly 5'7 with a fair complexion. He has a toned and athletic, if somewhat rugged, build developed from an overly active lifestyle. A multitude of scars dot his forearms and knuckles—usually covered by white bandages—as well as his abdomen. He has messy black hair that fades grey at the ends, bright rose-red eyes and a beauty mark underneath his left eye. Val has sharp canines and he likes to use them.
Val usually wears whatever he has in his "closet", not favouring any particular style over any other. He generally doesn't care for dirt, blood or stains on his clothing and he is often described as unkempt, but clean. A silver chain necklace with a shark tooth and scratched-out dog tags attached to it is his only true belonging. In the past, he rarely wore it lest it be used against him, though his power makes that worry now unnecessary.
Richter's costume is simple in design and function, in that it really only has some of the latter and the former was mostly an afterthought.
His current costume consists of a black, hooded cape (he doesn't usually wear it), black leather pants and dark brown boots. The upper chest portion of his costume is covered by a vest engraved with silver patterns across its front. It has a utility belt with multiple pouches containing various tools and first aid supplies. Val also wears brown forearm guards etched with silver engravings, as well as fingerless gloves. A black two-sectioned mask with yellow circular lenses for his eyes, complete with various visual enhancements, hides Val's features both partially and entirely. Despite its relative simplicity, the costume is more durable than it appears, made to dampen any impacts that manage to make it through his "shield".
Personality: Flippant. That's the first word people usually think of whenever Val is mentioned, and for good reason. He rarely seems to take anything seriously and tends to avoid people when they try talking to him, often changing a conversation's subject to better suit his own interest. Val is generally indifferent to the plight of others, though not because of ignorance and likely not due to malice either. As far as has been observed, this is less of a conscious action and more of an instinctual response. Val does not show respect to anyone, regardless of their status, unless they earn it. Very few do. This attitude has made his integration into the Wards.... challenging.
Despite these issues, Val is very much capable of being civil when it comes to more practical matters. He is more than willing to work with others when necessary and is actually quite good at it, as long as no one tries to order him around. However, his restraint does not typically extend beyond simple necessity. Val also appears to be somewhat emotionally stunted.
Ever since triggering, Val seemingly suffers from a severe form of insomnia, though without any apparent ill effects. This, combined with his excessive amounts of energy, appears to indicate ADHD, though his lack of other discernable symptoms makes this diagnosis unlikely. Val gets somewhat irritable at night since he has a strict curfew and can't do much after hours. He also lies a lot, though usually innocuously and he is brutally honest just as often.
Though outwardly apathetic, Val is more thoughtful than one would think. He regularly goes out of his way to help people and solve problems whenever he can, though mostly out of boredom and not any true sense of empathy. A distinct lack of positive relationships in his past means gaining his trust is unlikely, but once someone earns his respect, he can be an invaluable ally.
Val has a tendency to bite people he finds annoying.
Power Classification: Striker (Brute 7/Shaker 4/Mover 2/Thinker 1)
Power Description: Richter possesses the ability to freely induce and manipulate vibrations at will, enhancing or decreasing the force of impacts and disrupting molecular bonds. His power is primarily touch-based, though he is capable of extending its range by making it propagate through any of the three states of matter, with varying levels of difficulty. His power provides him with a high level of precision when it comes to manipulating oscillating frequency as it requires him to consciously adjust them near-constantly. Richter can vibrate his own body directly, though doing so leaves him nauseous and faint. Further testing is required.
Richter describes his ability as being able to "turn punches into missiles, stone into dust, water into vapour, air into fire and flesh into ██████████".
Richter's body is constantly surrounded by a "field" of vibrations that violently twists and dismantles anything it makes contact with, granting him a form of nigh-invulnerability, though an object hitting him with sufficient force is able to bypass his defence, as it cannot block kinetic energy entirely. This weakness becomes less of an issue if Richter merely alters the frequencies of the field to better block kinetic energy. Further testing is required.
The biggest limitations to Richter's power seem to be knowledge and experience.
Note 1: Richter's ability does not seem to be limited to interacting with inanimate objects, as observed with ██████████.
Note 2: Richter's protective "field" appears to work based off a whitelist of what it allows to pass through and what it doesn't. As of now, he possesses little control over it.
Note 3: Richter's Trigger seems to have somehow altered his body in such a way that he no longer requires any sleep in order to function. In his own words, since his power doesn't have an "off-switch", neither does he.
Note 4: It is believed that Richter may be hiding the full extent of his abilities.
Strengths: Observation: Val is always paying attention to his surroundings and the people within, even when it doesn't seem like it. With his outstanding memorization skills, he excels at reading people based on minute changes in facial expressions and body language, a skill he developed in order to predict when a situation is about to escalate or a fight is about to break out.
Parkour: Val is a trained traceur. While his skills are still somewhat unrefined, he is nonetheless capable of traversing difficult urban terrain with some ease.
Combat: A highly proficient combatant, despite having no professional training, Val's rough upbringing often forced him to rely on violence to get what he wanted. His skills in hand to hand combat are best described as rough and lacking polish, but effective. He's even had the misfortune of facing off against armed opponents, and come out on top. Usually by using the environment to his advantage, though he wasn't always entirely successful.
First Aid: Like most of his skills, Val learnt how to administer first aid out of necessity. As a street orphan, he didn't have anyone to patch him up after he got into fights, which happened quite often. So he learned how to do it himself.
Weaknesses: Hyper-active: Since his power is always active and has removed the need for him to sleep, Val tends to be full of energy at almost every time of day. Energy which he often struggles to keep under control. While usually not a problem when he has something to occupy himself with, once the object of his attention is removed or otherwise tampered with, he eventually turns to more disruptive, and often self-destructive, behaviours to cope. Being around other people in this state almost always leads to violence.
Education: As far as records show, Val has never attended any educational institutions, though he is literate and does at least possess a basic level of education, which he likely received prior to his arrival in Bridgewater. Regardless, there are multiple severe gaps in his overall knowledge that need to be addressed.
Empathy: Or rather, the lack of it. Val does not care about people, something he doesn't see as a problem unless it might inconvenience him. He doesn't believe it important to understand other people nor care about their problems. Since his behaviour appears to be learned, it is possible to correct it.
History: The exact origins of Val Sydney are unknown, and he hasn't been keen to share, if he even remembered himself.
One thing was for sure; he was a fighter long before he came to Bridgewater. A fact that didn't change even before he triggered.
The first two years of his time in Bridgewater were spent within the foster care system, where he was constantly reprimanded for starting fights with the other children, despite his words to the contrary. In truth, it was merely bias that was the cause of his punishments. Val had previously displayed no signs of aggressive behaviour prior to the first incident, but the same couldn't be said for afterwards. Eventually, the damage he inflicted upon his fellow foster children escalated to the point where several of them had to be hospitalised. That incident was the straw that finally broke the camel's back. He'd seen it coming, but there was only so much he could do about it.
After being removed from foster care, there is precious little known about Val's activities.
The PRT has attempted to investigate more of Val's history, but all members of his foster home were found to have been killed during the Confessor Disaster. Further attempts have been made to obtain more information. However, Val's refusal to talk about his past has made the investigation fruitless.
Sometime after he was removed from the foster home, Val ran into a familiar face, and an incident occurred. An incident that led to them running afoul of a violent gang calling themselves "The Ivory Basterds". As far as known, neither were directly involved with the gang, and any connection was purely incidental. The instigator, a former friend of Val from his "hometown", ████████ was seen leaving the scene.
It didn't take long before Val was hunted down and cornered by the Ivory Basterds, who had decided that they didn't want someone like him around anymore. Despite his best efforts to avoid them, Val was captured and taken to the gang's hideout, along with his hometown friend. There, they spent several hours ██████████ ██████████ ██████████ before Richter triggered.
And he wasn't the only one.
The specifics of what happened next aren't known, only the bits and pieces left in the aftermath. In no small part due to the fact that Confessor attacked Bridgewater moments later.
What was known, was that the remaining Ivory Basterds started having a very bad time for the next few months.
Val Sydney approached Gatecrasher approximately one year after the Confessor Disaster. He expressed his intention to join the Wards and though his background, or lack thereof, proved difficult to verify, he was brought in regardless. With some minor caveats.
Several days later, the Ward known as Richter was introduced to the public.
With the passengers beginning to wind down, things were starting to look better. At the very least, they weren't trampling over each other anymore. That should help out the other trainer a bit. Now all he had to do was wait until Ghast returned from his little exploration.
Hail stood relaxed, when he was suddenly almost knocked off balance by a dark-haired girl that he somewhat recognised. Barely.
She was one of the performers in the Contest, though he was currently blanking on her name. He briefly considered asking her, but then she opened her mouth, and suddenly her name wasn't quite so relevant anymore.
She was one of those types. Full of more ego than sense.
"In the way? I was just standing here while my lovely companion stopped a potential crisis," Hail drawled, "Far more than you did I'm sure, darling."
"Esp!"
Hail rolled his eyes at Sai's admonishing tone and sighed.
"But, I suggest you make quick on your exit. I have a feeling that things are about to get a lot more interesting."
TheMushroomLord
Forsythe
Alby47
Fetzen
JewelSerket
Sho Minazuki
Ersa93
