Member
Cerera
tadcfnaf
Achronum
Zeus23
xVampire3go
Antlers
Morose
Birdboy
"There is nothing in this world that will last forever. No matter how hard you cling to sand, it will soon slip through your fingers all the same. Remember that before you hurt yourself instead of letting go."
Name:
Carla Blackburn
Alias:
Rosenred
Nicknames:
None
Age:
23
Gender:
Female - She|Her
Personality:
A roguish and witty villain with an affinity for living life one risk at a time, Rosenred is always composed and seemingly dignified in the way she behaves. As one of Redline's less formidable villains, she rarely shows any outward signs of caution or regard for the rules of the "game" that heroes and villains play by. She never misses a beat when it comes to thinking on her feet and surprising the good guys with a masterclass in cape tactics that shows she had a trick up her sleeve all along. In Rosenred's eyes, combat between parahumans is like a game of chess; There's no such thing as thinking too many steps ahead of your opponent. Being a sly strategist on the battlefield plays fittingly into her confidence. Rosenred always has her head held high, thinking herself to be a match for anyone she faces in the criminal underworld as well as the world of heroes. If anyone could see the smug smile on her face below the mask, it would be the kind that one has when they're watching you walk into a door that says "open" on it. It is often difficult to tell whether Rosenred is ignoring you, or if she is picking your every move apart like a book, and she finds amusement in people who can't tell which is which.
When she isn't playing games with someone, Rosenred demonstrates very well practiced manners and social tact. There is never a time when she is crudely insulting or neglecting the honor among thieves that she believes in. There are some villains who play by no rules except for their own, society and heroic vigilance be damned. There are others who follow a strict code of morals that they allow to dictate their actions; Rosenred is both. Her "code" has only a few loose tenets, but she lives by them strictly. First and foremost, she refuses to take a life unless it is absolutely the only way to resolve a conflict, violence is not the solution to violence. Second, when another cape goes out of their way to assist her, she will do her best to repay them when she is able. Finally, whenever she engages in her criminal escapades, she will work to involve innocents as little as possible, either by incapacitating them or simply remaining undetected. These rules may seem like a tactical strategy all on their own, as they have their own benefits in the cape world, but aside from the smart nature of her code, Rosenred follows it because it matters to her. She genuinely does not enjoy killing others, she genuinely in repaying favors and finds no reason to needlessly expose the public to her crimes.
Despite being a villain, Rosenred seems to hold high admiration for her sworn enemies on both sides of the "game." In times of crisis, where truces are called, Rosenred steps up and extends trust as soon as possible and attempts to be as kind to the heroes as she possibly can. Heroes hold a special place in her heart, even if it doesn't award her any points with them whatsoever. Rosenred likes to understand the people around her, and rarely forgets something she learns about them. Knowing why capes do the things they do, down to an individual, interests her deeply. Anyone who shows such interest in her rarely get what they want; She has a very one-way personality where she will get to know you like the back of her hand before you even know her real name. Beneath that sly exterior lies a facet of her that no one sees, one that she was always unhappy with, an ugly ball of spite and bitterness that she doesn't seem to aim at anyone in particular. It quickly becomes a lonely situation when one pours their heart out for others without letting them in, and she is an example of that.
When she isn't playing games with someone, Rosenred demonstrates very well practiced manners and social tact. There is never a time when she is crudely insulting or neglecting the honor among thieves that she believes in. There are some villains who play by no rules except for their own, society and heroic vigilance be damned. There are others who follow a strict code of morals that they allow to dictate their actions; Rosenred is both. Her "code" has only a few loose tenets, but she lives by them strictly. First and foremost, she refuses to take a life unless it is absolutely the only way to resolve a conflict, violence is not the solution to violence. Second, when another cape goes out of their way to assist her, she will do her best to repay them when she is able. Finally, whenever she engages in her criminal escapades, she will work to involve innocents as little as possible, either by incapacitating them or simply remaining undetected. These rules may seem like a tactical strategy all on their own, as they have their own benefits in the cape world, but aside from the smart nature of her code, Rosenred follows it because it matters to her. She genuinely does not enjoy killing others, she genuinely in repaying favors and finds no reason to needlessly expose the public to her crimes.
Despite being a villain, Rosenred seems to hold high admiration for her sworn enemies on both sides of the "game." In times of crisis, where truces are called, Rosenred steps up and extends trust as soon as possible and attempts to be as kind to the heroes as she possibly can. Heroes hold a special place in her heart, even if it doesn't award her any points with them whatsoever. Rosenred likes to understand the people around her, and rarely forgets something she learns about them. Knowing why capes do the things they do, down to an individual, interests her deeply. Anyone who shows such interest in her rarely get what they want; She has a very one-way personality where she will get to know you like the back of her hand before you even know her real name. Beneath that sly exterior lies a facet of her that no one sees, one that she was always unhappy with, an ugly ball of spite and bitterness that she doesn't seem to aim at anyone in particular. It quickly becomes a lonely situation when one pours their heart out for others without letting them in, and she is an example of that.
Appearance:
Always dressed in ways that make other villain costumes look like threadbare rags, Rosenred’s costume is very fitting to her cape name. A carmine-red tailcoat adorned with flourishing patterns of ashen gray, knee-high boots and a pair of stark white gloves. Her face is obscured by a wide-brimmed hat lined with circular silver patterns that resemble thorns. On the side can be found a rose-shaped pin holding a rather large, bright red feather in place. Below the hat is an extravagant red and white mask flecked with gold to cover her face. Her costume looks more like something she'd wear to a fancy party than the outfit of a villain.
Outside of her costume, Rosenred stands at roughly 5”7’ and looks like she runs a lot. Typically dressing in shades of red and white even when she isn’t wearing the mask, you could get the feeling she has powers due to the fact that her hair is an ashy gray, which feels like sand to the touch, and her eyes a a reddish pink. She will typically pass this off by saying she wears contacts that mess with her eye color, but it’s natural. She has a lot of freckles smattered across her face and hands, and tends to wear earrings that change practically every other day.
Outside of her costume, Rosenred stands at roughly 5”7’ and looks like she runs a lot. Typically dressing in shades of red and white even when she isn’t wearing the mask, you could get the feeling she has powers due to the fact that her hair is an ashy gray, which feels like sand to the touch, and her eyes a a reddish pink. She will typically pass this off by saying she wears contacts that mess with her eye color, but it’s natural. She has a lot of freckles smattered across her face and hands, and tends to wear earrings that change practically every other day.
Biography:
"My story is one that begins and ends with three other people in this very city."
"Years ago, the Herald known as Archangel descended on Redline, and brought its trademark flavor of agony and suffering on the people. I was one of such people, along with my found family, as we were running through the crowds before we knew each other. That carnal need to escape something we couldn't have hoped to understand... It changed us all, and made us parahumans. The important detail in this is that we triggered all at once, and therefore, the powers we received were shared. Not even two months passed, and we found each other. At first, it took weeks of dealing with our own immediate situations, but every night, hour by hour, we became familiar with one another through dreams that felt as real as the day the Angel came for us."
"My cluster shared power and dreams, I remember a feeling of waking up, and being surrounded by a boundless garden of hedges and roses redder than blood. The sky was dim and starless, with three faded-red moons glowing across the night. My eyes could see the fields as plain as day. When I walked through those fields for long enough, I would come across a building made from white stone, covered in the same vines and roses as the rest of that sleeping world. Imagine a mausoleum, or perhaps a courthouse, without any windows or doors; Only you and your fellow parahumans. It was in that empty structure that we first met, symbolism of swords and roses lined the floor and rippled when we stepped over them. Do you see the theme? We didn't at first, but soon enough, it occurred to us that we were meant to meet there. We were drawn together by forces outside our control, and I do not know if it was those same forces or our own volition that made it so, but I came to know those three as my family."
"I believe that more than anything, we grew on each other because there was nothing left for any of us. We had nothing else to lose. Out of the ashes of our former lives came the Thorns, and we clung to that sense of closeness as if our lives depended on it. We were not anymore perfect together than we were separate, but when you have scars that run this deep, anything is better than solitude. There were four of us in total; Morden, Charmica, Duster, and yours truly. Morden was the rock, he held us together in times when the slightest inconvenience was enough to pull us apart. He was never afraid of anything, with or without his weapon, and we all looked to him for stability. Charmica was a daydreamer in every sense of the word. She was a child who lost her parents, her sister and her home to the Angel, and yet that spark of hope in her eyes hadn't faltered once over the years. That girl had enough that spurred her on that she might not have needed us after all."
"Those two were simple to understand. They wore their hearts on their sleeves. But the last of us, Duster? She was a different beast altogether. Even in the way her powers appeared, she was always the odd one out of us. We wielded swords, and her passenger gifted her a gun instead. Duster was always on guard, either literally or emotionally so. She was a wounded woman just like the rest of us, but something inside her was broken beyond repair, she was so bitter- so angry at the world around her, that she didn't spare enough time to heal her scars. I did not understand the depths of her pain the same way back then, and we thought she would need time. We all needed time, so this was an easy conclusion to come to. When we were well enough acquainted to call each other brother and sisters, we all decided to use our newfound gifts to remake our lives together. Even Duster agreed at the time- We wanted to be heroes."
"The next year was spent doing just that, we trained with our powers, learned teamwork and strategy until it was like second nature to us. It was here that we started calling ourselves the Thorns, we had made the occasional wave, but we were what the PRT might have called small time. They knew our names, they approached us for dialogues occasionally, and I felt we were on fair enough terms with them. They offered us an opportunity to act in a more "official" capacity as up-and-coming heroes in Redline, but we never came to a complete agreement, so we stayed the same, a freerunning cluster team that was only occasionally involved in the business of the more famous heroes. When I look back, I can't help but feel that it was the first decision to mark our downfall. We were far from the best, and we may have failed just as many times as we succeeded if not more, but no matter how small our victories were, they were ours. No one could take them away from us."
It wasn't a long wait after that first year when the cracks began to show. In our shared dreams, we planned everything and left nothing to secrecy, we worked through everything that weighed on us by leaning on each other, all except for the problem member, Duster. No matter how many hands we extended to her, no matter how badly we felt she was yearning for some kind of change, we only made her turn further inward. In every conversation we held with her, she spoke as if she was not involved. Duster always chose her words carefully to count herself out of the planning, even though she followed through perfectly. Either she wanted to simply bury her pain, or she was conflicted, or perhaps it was both. As time passed, Duster's mind became more and more clouded with anger. She lashed out more than usual, with more...generous use of her passenger's weapon when she encountered a villain. Morden did his best to reign her in and reason with her, Charmica tried to understand her. I felt nothing by empathy for her. She was a part of our family, and yet we knew so little about where she came from. It was as if the new life we all made together was the only life she ever had."
"Her spite turned into rage, and then rage turned into hatred. Hatred for us. The last words she ever spoke to us were, "You are nothing but pariahs clinging to craps of dreams you can't touch. I am not like you." Had she simply left and never looked back, we would have hoped that she might find solace somewhere else. We would have accepted that Duster needed something we couldn't give her, and we would have missed her. That, however, was not what happened. We had been seeing other heroes less and less as her demeanor shifted, so the PRT does not know this, but she killed Charmica and Morden. Two bullets in Morden's chest, and one in Charmica's neck. I could only watch them bleed out in my arms as Duster ran for her life."
"Have you ever been in a position where you lose everyone and everything you've ever known and loved? Few people ever experience that degree of agony, and even fewer return from it. It is a beautiful thing to see the ashes of what once was be made into something new. Nearly impossible, but beautiful all the same. But, to do that a second time was a reality I would rather die than live with. I did not have the strength to live without them. For a moment, I believed they would have lived to see another day, but something swelled inside me. A part of my soul had been expanded, like a sword growing sharper. The dagger Charmica produced crumbled to dust between her fingers, and I knew the feeling was their power leaving their bodies in favor of Duster and the last two living Thorns."
"The only thing I felt when they laid before me, lifeless and dead, was the same feeling that Duster had felt for so long. It was at that horrible moment that I knew exactly what went through her mind. It was not pain, it was not trauma, it was not guilt. It was rage. Pure, aimless rage. I wanted nothing more than to kill her. My family, the most important people on this earth, were taken from me, after everything we did for Duster. I believed that there was nothing left, that I could have died there with them, and it would have been fine. Their memories, however, would have been forgotten, were Duster the only one left to remember. To this day, I wish for one thing and one thing only: revenge. I want to make things right for my lost family, and the only way that will happen is if Duster joins them in the afterlife. Perhaps there, she will find peace after an eternity, but this life is not big enough for the two of us."
"My dreams are painfully quiet since that day. The gardens are still in their endless bloom, and the sky has not changed, but the meeting grounds are silent. I walk through the fields of roses and moss, hoping to see at least some figment of them left behind, even if it is Duster I see, so I could perhaps unleash the anger I feel on her sooner rather than later. Every night, I am reminded of the way that dream world use to feel so inviting, but now, there is only the sound of my presence. I made less than admirable decisions in the few years afterwards. Hatred has a way of pushing you to certain extremes, as Duster taught me. I will find her. If not tomorrow, if not the next day, then one day, I will make her pay for everything she took from us. Duster will die if it is last thing I do."
"It very well might be."
"Years ago, the Herald known as Archangel descended on Redline, and brought its trademark flavor of agony and suffering on the people. I was one of such people, along with my found family, as we were running through the crowds before we knew each other. That carnal need to escape something we couldn't have hoped to understand... It changed us all, and made us parahumans. The important detail in this is that we triggered all at once, and therefore, the powers we received were shared. Not even two months passed, and we found each other. At first, it took weeks of dealing with our own immediate situations, but every night, hour by hour, we became familiar with one another through dreams that felt as real as the day the Angel came for us."
"My cluster shared power and dreams, I remember a feeling of waking up, and being surrounded by a boundless garden of hedges and roses redder than blood. The sky was dim and starless, with three faded-red moons glowing across the night. My eyes could see the fields as plain as day. When I walked through those fields for long enough, I would come across a building made from white stone, covered in the same vines and roses as the rest of that sleeping world. Imagine a mausoleum, or perhaps a courthouse, without any windows or doors; Only you and your fellow parahumans. It was in that empty structure that we first met, symbolism of swords and roses lined the floor and rippled when we stepped over them. Do you see the theme? We didn't at first, but soon enough, it occurred to us that we were meant to meet there. We were drawn together by forces outside our control, and I do not know if it was those same forces or our own volition that made it so, but I came to know those three as my family."
"I believe that more than anything, we grew on each other because there was nothing left for any of us. We had nothing else to lose. Out of the ashes of our former lives came the Thorns, and we clung to that sense of closeness as if our lives depended on it. We were not anymore perfect together than we were separate, but when you have scars that run this deep, anything is better than solitude. There were four of us in total; Morden, Charmica, Duster, and yours truly. Morden was the rock, he held us together in times when the slightest inconvenience was enough to pull us apart. He was never afraid of anything, with or without his weapon, and we all looked to him for stability. Charmica was a daydreamer in every sense of the word. She was a child who lost her parents, her sister and her home to the Angel, and yet that spark of hope in her eyes hadn't faltered once over the years. That girl had enough that spurred her on that she might not have needed us after all."
"Those two were simple to understand. They wore their hearts on their sleeves. But the last of us, Duster? She was a different beast altogether. Even in the way her powers appeared, she was always the odd one out of us. We wielded swords, and her passenger gifted her a gun instead. Duster was always on guard, either literally or emotionally so. She was a wounded woman just like the rest of us, but something inside her was broken beyond repair, she was so bitter- so angry at the world around her, that she didn't spare enough time to heal her scars. I did not understand the depths of her pain the same way back then, and we thought she would need time. We all needed time, so this was an easy conclusion to come to. When we were well enough acquainted to call each other brother and sisters, we all decided to use our newfound gifts to remake our lives together. Even Duster agreed at the time- We wanted to be heroes."
"The next year was spent doing just that, we trained with our powers, learned teamwork and strategy until it was like second nature to us. It was here that we started calling ourselves the Thorns, we had made the occasional wave, but we were what the PRT might have called small time. They knew our names, they approached us for dialogues occasionally, and I felt we were on fair enough terms with them. They offered us an opportunity to act in a more "official" capacity as up-and-coming heroes in Redline, but we never came to a complete agreement, so we stayed the same, a freerunning cluster team that was only occasionally involved in the business of the more famous heroes. When I look back, I can't help but feel that it was the first decision to mark our downfall. We were far from the best, and we may have failed just as many times as we succeeded if not more, but no matter how small our victories were, they were ours. No one could take them away from us."
It wasn't a long wait after that first year when the cracks began to show. In our shared dreams, we planned everything and left nothing to secrecy, we worked through everything that weighed on us by leaning on each other, all except for the problem member, Duster. No matter how many hands we extended to her, no matter how badly we felt she was yearning for some kind of change, we only made her turn further inward. In every conversation we held with her, she spoke as if she was not involved. Duster always chose her words carefully to count herself out of the planning, even though she followed through perfectly. Either she wanted to simply bury her pain, or she was conflicted, or perhaps it was both. As time passed, Duster's mind became more and more clouded with anger. She lashed out more than usual, with more...generous use of her passenger's weapon when she encountered a villain. Morden did his best to reign her in and reason with her, Charmica tried to understand her. I felt nothing by empathy for her. She was a part of our family, and yet we knew so little about where she came from. It was as if the new life we all made together was the only life she ever had."
"Her spite turned into rage, and then rage turned into hatred. Hatred for us. The last words she ever spoke to us were, "You are nothing but pariahs clinging to craps of dreams you can't touch. I am not like you." Had she simply left and never looked back, we would have hoped that she might find solace somewhere else. We would have accepted that Duster needed something we couldn't give her, and we would have missed her. That, however, was not what happened. We had been seeing other heroes less and less as her demeanor shifted, so the PRT does not know this, but she killed Charmica and Morden. Two bullets in Morden's chest, and one in Charmica's neck. I could only watch them bleed out in my arms as Duster ran for her life."
"Have you ever been in a position where you lose everyone and everything you've ever known and loved? Few people ever experience that degree of agony, and even fewer return from it. It is a beautiful thing to see the ashes of what once was be made into something new. Nearly impossible, but beautiful all the same. But, to do that a second time was a reality I would rather die than live with. I did not have the strength to live without them. For a moment, I believed they would have lived to see another day, but something swelled inside me. A part of my soul had been expanded, like a sword growing sharper. The dagger Charmica produced crumbled to dust between her fingers, and I knew the feeling was their power leaving their bodies in favor of Duster and the last two living Thorns."
"The only thing I felt when they laid before me, lifeless and dead, was the same feeling that Duster had felt for so long. It was at that horrible moment that I knew exactly what went through her mind. It was not pain, it was not trauma, it was not guilt. It was rage. Pure, aimless rage. I wanted nothing more than to kill her. My family, the most important people on this earth, were taken from me, after everything we did for Duster. I believed that there was nothing left, that I could have died there with them, and it would have been fine. Their memories, however, would have been forgotten, were Duster the only one left to remember. To this day, I wish for one thing and one thing only: revenge. I want to make things right for my lost family, and the only way that will happen is if Duster joins them in the afterlife. Perhaps there, she will find peace after an eternity, but this life is not big enough for the two of us."
"My dreams are painfully quiet since that day. The gardens are still in their endless bloom, and the sky has not changed, but the meeting grounds are silent. I walk through the fields of roses and moss, hoping to see at least some figment of them left behind, even if it is Duster I see, so I could perhaps unleash the anger I feel on her sooner rather than later. Every night, I am reminded of the way that dream world use to feel so inviting, but now, there is only the sound of my presence. I made less than admirable decisions in the few years afterwards. Hatred has a way of pushing you to certain extremes, as Duster taught me. I will find her. If not tomorrow, if not the next day, then one day, I will make her pay for everything she took from us. Duster will die if it is last thing I do."
"It very well might be."
Powers: Cluster ID 947C-2.9 “Thorn” Member [Shard C]
Rosenred is allegedly the last remaining member of a parahuman cluster once known as the Thorns. The Thorns’ powerset consisted of a manifested weapon, a perception-based thinker ability, and a minor movement power, in order of strongest to weakest. Where most clusters shift the dynamic of power efficacy, the Thorns followed a consistent ranking where each member’s weakest power was a mover ability, and their strongest was their weapon.
Shard Weapon: Saber
Rosenred reaches into thin air and pulls out a weapon. A strangely ornate saber made of an unidentifiable material, consisting of a stark-white blade, red-tinted vines and a red gemstone-like surface wrapped in roses protecting the hand that wields it. The blade is sharp enough to possibly cut through metal, and any potential damage is reversed when the sword vanishes. Anyone who tries to wield the sword other than Rosenred or another Thorn can’t hold onto it- it simply slips out of their hand.
Perception: Awareness
Rosenred’s application of her cluster’s thinker power allows her to be fully aware of everything within 360 degrees of her, up to 30 feet away, even when she is not directly looking at something. This power can be obscured by visibility or cover, but will detect someone as long as they could be seen if Rosenred looked in their direction. This power will not work in a situation where her eyesight is compromised, such as total darkness, or if she is blindfolded.
Mobility: Flicker
Rosenred’s variation of the cluster’s mover power takes the form of quick burst movements that allow her to “flick” to a desired area. This movement distorts her entire body and happens faster than normal sight can process. During the split second this flicker occurs, Rosenred can move however she wants, but because it happens so quickly, she can only move so far- up to 15 feet during one flicker. After the movement happens, her power needs a moment to recharge with an escalating time between flickers that will eventually reset the less she uses this power.
Rosenred reaches into thin air and pulls out a weapon. A strangely ornate saber made of an unidentifiable material, consisting of a stark-white blade, red-tinted vines and a red gemstone-like surface wrapped in roses protecting the hand that wields it. The blade is sharp enough to possibly cut through metal, and any potential damage is reversed when the sword vanishes. Anyone who tries to wield the sword other than Rosenred or another Thorn can’t hold onto it- it simply slips out of their hand.
Perception: Awareness
Rosenred’s application of her cluster’s thinker power allows her to be fully aware of everything within 360 degrees of her, up to 30 feet away, even when she is not directly looking at something. This power can be obscured by visibility or cover, but will detect someone as long as they could be seen if Rosenred looked in their direction. This power will not work in a situation where her eyesight is compromised, such as total darkness, or if she is blindfolded.
Mobility: Flicker
Rosenred’s variation of the cluster’s mover power takes the form of quick burst movements that allow her to “flick” to a desired area. This movement distorts her entire body and happens faster than normal sight can process. During the split second this flicker occurs, Rosenred can move however she wants, but because it happens so quickly, she can only move so far- up to 15 feet during one flicker. After the movement happens, her power needs a moment to recharge with an escalating time between flickers that will eventually reset the less she uses this power.
Other:
It is possible that some members of the Redline Guardians or other long-time heroes knew Rosenred and her cluster before they fell apart, since they welcomed communication with other capes at the time.
Theme Song
