Blizz

The Gifted (Reborn)

This u?

The Gifted (Reborn)

May or may not be contemplating the idea of Dragonheart jumping out of a helicopter and landing like the hulk to scare the shit out of the Hunters while a bunch of NPC rebel soldiers storm the gates

The Gifted (Reborn)

I’ve been frazzled lately but I’m back.

Will try to catch up soon

Inferno - STRIKE THE MATCH! - Concluded

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Jack Hawthorne

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Location: Limbo
Skills: Extra-planar Navigation
Spells: Twilight Doorway
Outfit

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Of course she let them in. Of course she did. Because knowing her, Ananym probably thought she was going to Reenact Home Alone by springing a quantum infinity number of traps all designed to fuck with, and traumatize her playmates. Or as Jack would’ve called them, her victims. He might’ve said something about not letting them in if Ananym was only going to get cornered like that. But maybe she was planning to scare the shit out of them with some sort of ambush. A teleportation spell to bring them all to a pit of magma, or a decoy perhaps- Was this the real Ananym? Jack certainly wouldn’t put that past her. He’d feel proud in some way if that was the case.

”I wouldn’t eat the knives,” Jack said to Annika. ”They’re rather… Undercooked.” He was absolutely fucking with her- He didn’t know what they tasted like, he just felt like cracking a joke. Today was a humorous type of day by his own standards. Jack often found himself using humor as a way to lessen the burden that these stressful situations had. After all, if one person can set an example by being unbothered, others would surely follow. ”It is rather difficult to add salt to metals, unfortunately. Otherwise, they might be a bit more palatable.”

The thunder of Limbo’s sky cracked in rhythm with Jack’s own heartbeat. It was soothing in an uncanny way. ”I forgot how wondrous the place could be a times,” he said aloud. As intimidating and… Malevolent as the world was, there was beauty in chaos, and majesty in fury. Ananym pointed them in the direction of a castle on the horizon. Frankly, he didn’t recognize it. If she was familiar with it, then Jack assumed it was trustworthy. The only problem was that Ananym wanted to race there, and Jack wasn’t about to run through a forest in Limbo.

”Oh- Absolutely not. Between you and me, Annika, long walks through a forest on Earth are far more pleasant than here. Madalyne! We’ll teleport there!” He honestly wasn’t sure if she even heard him. She was clearly fierce in her own right, surely she’d be fine. Besides, the girl seemed like better company than Kog’Thakan. ”If she’s in a hurry, then so to shall we.” Jack brought his shadow arm up and held it out in front of himself and Annika. Trails of vantablack smoke began to arise from it and coalesce into the shape of a circle of swirling darkness. This was not an instant process, but after a minute or two, Jack’s creation was a churning portal of black and lilac wisps that nothing could be seen through.

”This is what I call a Twilight Doorway. I use these to cross incomprehensibly large distances with only a few footsteps. The exit will take us to the castle that Ananym mentioned. She means well, but her idea of the difference between “safe” and “life-threatening” differs from that of us humans. This will be safer. I believe Madalyne knows what she’s doing, and Ananym is much more dangerous than she lets on- Those two can handle anything Limbo throws at them. Shall we?”

Jack stepped through the portal. Fluid darkness curled around him and seemed to swallow him whole. If Annika followed him through, she’d feel a long chill wash over her. Not the kind that ran down one’s spine, but the kind one felt when they stepped outside on an autumn evening. It was inviting, wrapping over everything and taking it through to a place far away without so much as a rustle of momentum. Only Jack did not arrive where he expected to. No, this was not the craggy, demonic landscape he was just in. This was the opposite.

On the other side of the portal, a more lively sensation took hold. One that could be more readily associated with Limbo, as Jack dropped into a veritable Garden of Eden. Lush, green plants as far as he could see, and serenity abound. A beautiful place that could only be made reality by someone with an equally compassionate heart from which to pour out love. Jack took in the surroundings, and a breath of fresh air. This was… an accident. A pleasant one, but it made sense. Jack must’ve overlapped the portal with a stepping disc native to Limbo, and arrived here.

That meant this could’ve been any place in any possible time. This could a billion years after Strange’s death, or a billion years before it. How would Jack explain that to Annika or Madalyne? He noticed a woman nearby, tending to this garden. White hair… It was Storm. Gently and quietly, Jack stepped closer, ensuring he did not tremble her work with his intrusion. How long had it been, he wondered, since they laid eyes on each other.

”…Ororo? Is that you? It seems I’ve taken a wrong turn. It is good to see you again. I did not think I would cross paths with you again in this way.”

Ananym had 15 seconds to decide to jump through the doorway or continue on after Ananym and Madalyne. It began to shrink before her eyes.

Avengers Academy: X of Swords ⚔️

Among trees that grew taller than mountains, past a mist through which no god or man could divine a path, the world stood still.

Grinta's mind drifted through the earth and into the sky, letting all the universe flow through her soul like a river. From the river, she drank the water of life that all things needed, living or dead. Her body slowed to an unmoving pace. She was detached from the world, and yet she sat there in her home, no less apart of the world than the grass or the wind. Grinta became a thread in a weave that transcended the scope of conscious understanding, one that she was inexorably connected to, as everything that ever was or will be is connected to her. Her body faded from her memory, eroding into dust carried across the winds of time, as she let herself flow forth, unfettered, as the weave bent and tugged upon her. Time was a breath, and Grinta did not feel the urge to breathe. Thought was water, and Grinta would dive as deep as the ocean's floor, but she would not come to fear drowning.

She left her shell of bones and blood in the old timber home that was built long ago. Her body was there, but Grinta was everywhere. Every rock, every gust of wind, ever star that burned in the night sky. They were all vessels for her form. There was only the thought, the will to exist, a dream to be at one with all the entropy and harmony that performed the dance known as Creation. There was no pain, no gravity, no emotion.

There was only Grinta, and Grinta became it all.

ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛋᚲᛃ. ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛖᚨᚱᛏᚺ. ᛁ ᛒᚱᛁᚾᚷ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚾᛁᚷᚺᛏ, ᚨᚾᛞ ᛁ ᚱᚨᛁᛋᛖ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛋᚢᚾ ᚠᚱᛟᛗ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚾᛟᛏᚺᛁᚾᚷ.

ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᚨᛚᛚ.

Grinta did not say the words. She imagined them, and they were true. She crossed the wall of knowing, into the void of purified will.

She opened a door that the gods themselves longed to reach.

On the other side of that door was everything that was ever touched by creation. Reality distilled into a single breath, which Grinta breathed. She was conscious, though not in the traditional sense. If the universe was a living thing, she had just been assimilated into its brain. She felt everything it felt, heard everything it heard, and listened when it spoke. And the universe did not speak, it cried. From a place physically distant, though tangibly apart of her in this state, Grinta heard a wail of pain, estranged and foreign to her. In the sense of circulation returning to a limb, as needling receded. Grinta paid attention to the will behind that pain. It was wild, scared, and felt impossibly alone among its own. What could be severed so, when all the world was one, she wondered aloud. The universe could not answer, because she did not know.

The words were heard through a hundred trillion ears.

What did you do to me?

Grinta's presence was violently pulled back home at the sound of the voice. The formless was formed again, and the door was snapped shut loud enough that it awoke her from her daze. Grinta's eyes flew open, her heart hammered in her chest as she reminded herself that she was at home again. The house was dead silent, beyond the heartbeat pounding in her ears. The sound of distant footsteps and rattling metal trilled on the wind, and Grinta saw silver leaves drifting outside the window. She collected her thoughts into her finite skull once more.

"She's alive..."

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L̴e̸a̸h̵ ̷J̶o̸r̶d̸a̶n̵

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L̸o̵c̸a̸t̴i̴o̷n̸: Framework
S̴k̵i̷l̸l̶s̵: Battlefield Manipulation
Today’s Fit

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Zarina's "explanation" didn't explain shit. Leah wanted to reach out and grind the girl to dust between her hands. Lasers were flying through the air and someone got their head caved in- At least she thought, she wasn't at her best for perception- and the fucking sky was falling! Assuming the Framework in the real world was monitoring the heart rates of Leah and her "teammates," Leah's was pushing 220 bpm. Her heart rate was naturally higher in the first place, but this was extreme for her. Her skin would not stop feeling like it was dipped in molten metal, even as a giant hand appeared out of thin fucking air. Fuck. FUCK. FUCK.

Where did the sky go? What happened to her? Why was she in so much pain, why was she taller, why was she spewing smoke, why couldn't she control her powers? Leah was trying to grasp this, but she couldn't. She wanted to leave, to escape this situation and let everyone in the entire school, Sabine and April included, forget her existence for a whole 24 hours. People could see her panicking, it was obvious that something was wrong with Leah, and it only made things worse. It felt like she was a microscopic lifeform under a microscope, every single flaw and insecurity that Leah felt terrified to show being laid completely bare before everyone present. All the training Imperator burned into her was screaming against the underside of her skull to get a fucking grip.

But she couldn't. Even having her body snapped in half by the old man didn't feel this awful.

Perhaps the one thing that prevented Leah from devolving into a full-blown panic attack was her understanding of combat. She saw the stupid fucking hand coming for her and in a fit of blind fury swung her arm at it. It felt awkward, Leah was in a body she wasn't used to. And she almost lost her footing and made a boulder far too small come up to spear the hand. It was about five feet in diameter, and she'd be lucky if it even did anything to the thing. She was in a frenzy right now, and Leah's grip on her powers was slipping out of her grasp. The ground started tremoring again, enough that people might stumble if they weren't careful, though they likely wouldn't notice it. She didn't know what to do, yelling for Usagi to stop the simulation would've been something she'd never live down. Usagi would kick her out and she'd be a failure.

The Gifted (Reborn)

Dragonheart

Roman Cole

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Basic Information

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| Name |

Roman Cole

| Code Name |

Dragonheart

| Date of Birth |

38

| Gender |

Male - He/Him

| Sexuality |

Bisexual

| Relationship Status |

Single

| Race |

Gifted

| Gifted Class |

Alpha

| Allegiance |

Rebel Army

| In-Depth Appearance |

In no uncertain terms, Roman is built like a tank. He stands at 6'2", and the absurd muscle he packs is usually covered by big clothing. From trench coats to cardigans big enough to fit around him. His skin is mottled with scars and what seem to be erratic indentations left behind by the long term use of his powers. A pair of brown eyes pierce right through your soul when Roman holds his gaze. The man gives off an atmosphere of confidence, comfortable in his own skin enough that it shows around others.

His appearance changes dramatically when using his powers.

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Who Am I?

| Personality |

♦ Valiant ♦ Stubborn ♦ Gentle ♦ Intense♦

If God himself challenged Dragonheart to a staring contest, then God would blink first. Having enough strength of character that he lights up every room he walks into, Dragonheart is known throughout the Rebel Army as one of the bravest and unkillable Gifted that ever walked through their doors. Always at the forefront of conflict, he is the definition of wrath and bravery. No matter who the Republic and the Hunters send, he doesn’t flinch or quit. He shows little remorse towards those who trample the lives of the Gifted and their friends. His comrades in arms know they will go home when the day is done, even if they’re broken and dying, because Dragonheart won't leave them. It doesn’t matter if he’s hurling a tank through the sky to take out a helicopter, or carrying countless wounded back to safety, Dragonheart will do it because said he will. He is an absolute diehard believer in the Rebel Army’s cause.

Roman Cole, however, is impossibly different. When the fight is over, he is a gentle and immensely kind man. Hearing the pain of countless people who have been through their own personal hells has made him sympathetic to a fault. He feel deep compassion for the world around him, and always tries to make that world easier to bear. Roman may be bold, and sometimes overwhelming, but his years in the Rebel Army have made it necessary. He has a heart of gold armed with artillery cannons that watch over the endangered like a hawk, and will cook a meal for a dozen people with the same emotional ease as he experiences when demolishing a Hunter APC with his bare hands. Roman can listen to the worst stories of unfettered agony that someone can possibly think of, and remain calm enough to be the shoulder they lean on. Others joke that Roman is the glue holding the entire Rebel Army together. It isn't hard to see why they think so.

| Likes & Dislikes |

✔Freedom, metal, cold weather, quiet evenings, acts of kindness.

✘Limitation, failure, warm weather, pointless bickering, or acts of cruelty.

Abilities and Skills

Dragonhide: Roman's power causes a stone-like, nearly unbreakable matter to grow over his skin. This substance forms armor and spikes, which jut outwards like a dragon's horns, hence his name. This power takes only a few seconds to activate, but when it does, Roman grows a whole foot taller, and his body becomes dramatically stronger. The change allows him to lift several thousand pounds with a single arm, and lets Roman enjoy enough punching power to split the sturdiest military tanks in half. The jagged armor that Dragonheart grows is incredibly rough to the touch, punching it with your bare hand would be like punching a raw geode: You would break your hand, and the flesh in your hand would be flayed to pieces. While in this form, very little can injure Dragonheart. A shotgun to the face would cause his armor to flake off, but would do little more.

The problem with this power is that while he can turn it on in an instant, Roman can't go back to normal so quickly. It takes a few minutes for the armor and enhanced muscles to fade away. Once this starts, Roman's body becomes increasingly human, and therefore more vulnerable. His power also doesn't do well in stealthy situations- Have you ever seen a dragon sneak up on someone? His armor sounds like rocks grinding against each other when he walks, and the tips of the spikes that jut out of his shoulders glow in the dark. Dragonheart is far more accustomed to loud and head-on fights. Once the armor is damaged in any substantial way, it must be deactivated before it can regenerate. But if something beneath that armor, like a vital organ, is damaged, then Roman will need a doctor.

Unfortunately, Roman doesn't grow wings when he uses his powers.

Combat Master: Roman has been a part of the Rebel Army for the better part of two decades now. He is well-versed in fighting the Hunters anyone affiliated with them. His favored method of combat is to activate his powers and blitz unprepared opposition. He draws fire and breaks defensive lines while others get their jobs done. When he gets in close range, you better hope he's on your side or you are officially done for. Roman also has extensive experience with strategy and forming battle plans, enough to lead a successful raid.

Undercover: When Roman uses his powers, he stands out like a lighthouse on a starless night. And yet in an almost paradoxical way, he's just an ordinary tall guy. Sure, he may have a lot of nicks and scars, but maybe he's just an active guy. What does he do? Oh, he works on cars and occasionally gets a harmless injury- Nothing fancy. When he isn't charging into battle, Roman keeps a good cover, preventing his connection to the Rebel Army from being traced back to his everyday life. It helps that his power covers every part of him- Including his face- when active.

| History |

Roman doesn’t remember a time when he wasn’t aware of his Gift. As a kid, he didn’t have anyone he cared to call family, and he lived on the streets running from anyone who had the nerve to look twice at him. Sometimes this was just some ordinary person, sometimes it was a Hunter. Up until the point Roman was 14, this was all his life consisted of. Finding some place to hide when he wasn’t at home, and hoping his old man wasn’t at home when he was, lest he be reported to the Hunters for the spiky material that his skin made.

Alas, this was the very thing that happened. Roman usually spent most of his days out of the house, just existing or getting through days at school During one such day, Hunters came to his school at attempted to drag him out. They burst through the door with guns drawn and trained on him while one of them tried to latch a collar around his neck. Perhaps it was foolishness, or perhaps it was adrenaline, but Roman fought back. Shots were fired and blood was spilled as Roman suddenly used his power in full for the first time. Spikes and stony growths erupted all over his body, and he grew taller. One of the Hunters was a Gifted as well, and fired some sort of laser at him. It slowly burned through the armor.

Everyone else in the room watched in terror as Roman, now resembling a humanoid dragon, mauled the Hunters. None of them stood up when he was done with them, and while he was still in a frenzy, Roman left and didn’t look back. He crossed hundreds of feet in seconds with the sudden leap in muscle he had. More Hunters waited outside to receive him in shackles, but he just barreled past them like they weren’t there, tearing their armored vehicle in half.

Two days layers, Roman was wandering through a distant city he had never been to, his power allowed him to cross the distance in hours. Someone found him and discreetly explained they knew about his situation, about the Hunters chasing him. Roman’s first reaction to this was to panic and defend himself, but then this anonymous individual started levitating. Roman didn’t immediately trust this, but then she told him about the Rebel Army, a place that sought to protect and liberate oppressed Gifted. Naturally, he was curious and followed her to their home base of operations.

Ever since then, Roman lived among fellow rebels. He trained to protect himself and the lives of others, learned the tactics and methods of the Hunters, and the history of the Gifted. As a kid, he mostly stayed behind the walls where he sought to understand his own abilities in a safer environment and learned to trust Gifted who didn’t want to hunt him down. Roman’s life had gone from nothing to having a future he would eventually realize. And that is just what he did.

The Hunters took to calling the wanted man “Dragonheart,” just as they called every so-called treasonous Gifted by some dramatic name. Roman didn’t care back then, but his first assignment at the age of 17 made him understand the importance of that presence. The Hunters feared his strength, he could stop their vehicles from running down innocents like he was a tree rooted in place. Their guns could do little more than scratch him, and he could break their spirit if he advanced. Rebel fighters rallied to his side and pushed the advantage with him. His first mission to free Gifted prisoners was a success in the end, and Roman believed in himself.

One mission came after the other, and they kept coming for the next two decades. The Rebel Army gave Dragonheart a purpose that he gave his all too, and he developed a reputation among his fellow rebels as one of their best. They all trust him with his life, and he trusts them with his. Those who joined him on the frontlines have witnessed him survive things that no one ever should, shake it off and continue the fight as if nothing happened. Dragonheart has seen to the freeing of hundreds in his time, defiantly making enemy of the Hunters and the Republic itself.

And he’ll be damned if he stops any time soon.

| Family |

N/A

| Strengths |

• Connections in the Rebel Army
• Excellent power control
• Performs well under pressure

| Weaknesses |

• Relentlessly stubborn
• Operates with the precision of a sledgehammer; He will hit what he's aiming for with calculated brute force, but brute force no less.
• Doesn't know when to let something slide

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The Other

| Theme Song |

_{”AGAINST THE WIND WE RUN,
TO EVERY PLACE UNDER THE SUN!
WE’VE GOT SO MUCH POWER INSIDE,
WE WILL NEVER GIVE UP!
AGAINST THE WIND WE GO,
TOWARDS THE NEW SHORE!
TOGETHER WE’LL FORGET THE SORROW,
IT’S FOREVER GONE!”}

| Extra Information |

N/A

Inferno - STRIKE THE MATCH! - Concluded

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Jack Hawthorne

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Location: Limbo
Skills:
Spells:
Outfit

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Belasco… Was dead.

Illyana fucking Rasputina, his “apprentice,” finally killed the bastard. Jack could not stop himself from laughing in a downright haunting, demented manner. Ordinarily, Jack didn’t laugh at anything. Even things that were funny just got a mellow grin out of him. But this is hysterical. It was like the chuckle of a malicious, final villain of one’s story that confirms someone’s demise. Perhaps to another, it was twisted to find amusement in the death of Belasco. But Ananym certainly understood and that was enough.

”Well, that is surprising news, but I’m glad to hear that woman got her retribution.” It may not have been appropriate to discuss the… Finer details of what that was right now. Certainly not with Annika and Madalyne, it wasn’t his story to tell. Magik was powerful in her own right, or was only natural someone like her became the Sorcerer Supreme of Limbo. He just hoped the power didn’t go to her head. But then again… Limbo does that to people.

Ananym led them down the tower, and Jack followed, pondering the fort she made out of Belasco’s tower once they got far enough. ”I see you’ve been busy. How did those demons infiltrate this fort of yours? Did they sneak in? They could’ve have flown to the top, given their fear of gravity. It may be wise to patch the hole in your defense.” At heart, Jack knew she was still a kid. This could’ve been a game for her, but it also was something of a home for her now that the Old Man wasn’t around.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

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As far as days went, this wasn’t the worst that could’ve happened.

This Kvarr man seemed to Shirik like he had enough common sense to recognize the difference between an argument and a fight. Unlike Nellara, who Shirik could tell was itching to grandstand the Ascendancy’s military might. Surprisingly enough, Esedel was greeting with amicability. And so was Kvarr. It said something about the way this would go when one of Silbermine’s greatest lapdogs was less willing to jump the gun- not that Shirik knew in blazes a gun actually was- than her superior Lord. A surprise, but a welcome one.

Even more surprising was that Shirik’s impromptu feast of fish was met with another. The Mythadians brought out vegetables and beer, and the Ascendancy soldiers brought out meat. If the Iriad had the capacity to smile, they would. This was exactly what they had set out to do. The rift was a step less open now, and the people present were motivated to close it further. Motives that were perhaps... Ulterior, but when a door opens, anything can walk through it. Shirik was incapable of eating, and thus they simply knelt down among the others as they ate. Peacefully, they just existed and basked in the peace for which they lit the spark. They weren't the type to say "I told you so," but they'd definitely say it to Ixtaro right now.

They traced a glowing shape in the air out of raw heat, and the fire they produced earlier to cook their food was renewed. This was not a conventional technique used by Heat mages, as they normally used more somatic gestures in their magic like any ordinary mage. Then again, Shirik was not an ordinary mage. And perhaps that was why the Warden thought she recognized them. They looked at Esedel, holding eye contact with the woman. Shirik didn't feel threatened by her the way Zeynap or the others did, they had dealt with worse.

"Perhaps we did. Perhaps we didn't. I rarely remember interacting with people of rank." If that meant to be derisive, it didn't sound like it. Shirik didn't particularly care about militaristic individuals enough that they held any weight in their mind on a daily basis.

The Gifted (Reborn)

I’m down for that. I deliberately jumped across his backstory a lot for it to be filled in overtime

The Gifted (Reborn)

Behold. The tank.

Dragonheart

Roman Cole

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Basic Information

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| Name |

Roman Cole

| Code Name |

Dragonheart

| Date of Birth |

38

| Gender |

Male - He/Him

| Sexuality |

Bisexual

| Relationship Status |

Single

| Race |

Gifted

| Gifted Class |

Alpha

| Allegiance |

Rebel Army

| In-Depth Appearance |

In no uncertain terms, Roman is built like a tank. He stands at 6'2", and the absurd muscle he packs is usually covered by big clothing. From trench coats to cardigans big enough to fit around him. His skin is mottled with scars and what seem to be erratic indentations left behind by the long term use of his powers. A pair of brown eyes pierce right through your soul when Roman holds his gaze. The man gives off an atmosphere of confidence, comfortable in his own skin enough that it shows around others.

His appearance changes dramatically when using his powers.

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Who Am I?

| Personality |

♦ Valiant ♦ Stubborn ♦ Gentle ♦ Intense♦

If God himself challenged Dragonheart to a staring contest, then God would blink first. Having enough strength of character that he lights up every room he walks into, Dragonheart is known throughout the Rebel Army as one of the bravest and unkillable Gifted that ever walked through their doors. Always at the forefront of conflict, he is the definition of wrath and bravery. No matter who the Republic and the Hunters send, he doesn’t flinch or quit. He shows little remorse towards those who trample the lives of the Gifted and their friends. His comrades in arms know they will go home when the day is done, even if they’re broken and dying, because Dragonheart won't leave them. It doesn’t matter if he’s hurling a tank through the sky to take out a helicopter, or carrying countless wounded back to safety, Dragonheart will do it because said he will. He is an absolute diehard believer in the Rebel Army’s cause.

Roman Cole, however, is impossibly different. When the fight is over, he is a gentle and immensely kind man. Hearing the pain of countless people who have been through their own personal hells has made him sympathetic to a fault. He feel deep compassion for the world around him, and always tries to make that world easier to bear. Roman may be bold, and sometimes overwhelming, but his years in the Rebel Army have made it necessary. He has a heart of gold armed with artillery cannons that watch over the endangered like a hawk, and will cook a meal for a dozen people with the same emotional ease as he experiences when demolishing a Hunter APC with his bare hands. Roman can listen to the worst stories of unfettered agony that someone can possibly think of, and remain calm enough to be the shoulder they lean on. Others joke that Roman is the glue holding the entire Rebel Army together. It isn't hard to see why they think so.

| Likes & Dislikes |

✔Freedom, metal, cold weather, quiet evenings, acts of kindness.

✘Limitation, failure, warm weather, pointless bickering, or acts of cruelty.

Abilities and Skills

Dragonhide: Roman's power causes a stone-like, nearly unbreakable matter to grow over his skin. This substance forms armor and spikes, which jut outwards like a dragon's horns, hence his name. This power takes only a few seconds to activate, but when it does, Roman grows a whole foot taller, and his body becomes dramatically stronger. The change allows him to lift several thousand pounds with a single arm, and lets Roman enjoy enough punching power to split the sturdiest military tanks in half. The jagged armor that Dragonheart grows is incredibly rough to the touch, punching it with your bare hand would be like punching a raw geode: You would break your hand, and the flesh in your hand would be flayed to pieces. While in this form, very little can injure Dragonheart. A shotgun to the face would cause his armor to flake off, but would do little more.

The problem with this power is that while he can turn it on in an instant, Roman can't go back to normal so quickly. It takes a few minutes for the armor and enhanced muscles to fade away. Once this starts, Roman's body becomes increasingly human, and therefore more vulnerable. His power also doesn't do well in stealthy situations- Have you ever seen a dragon sneak up on someone? His armor sounds like rocks grinding against each other when he walks, and the tips of the spikes that jut out of his shoulders glow in the dark. Dragonheart is far more accustomed to loud and head-on fights. Once the armor is damaged in any substantial way, it must be deactivated before it can regenerate. But if something beneath that armor, like a vital organ, is damaged, then Roman will need a doctor.

Unfortunately, Roman doesn't grow wings when he uses his powers.

Combat Master: Roman has been a part of the Rebel Army for the better part of two decades now. He is well-versed in fighting the Hunters anyone affiliated with them. His favored method of combat is to activate his powers and blitz unprepared opposition. He draws fire and breaks defensive lines while others get their jobs done. When he gets in close range, you better hope he's on your side or you are officially done for. Roman also has extensive experience with strategy and forming battle plans, enough to lead a successful raid.

Undercover: When Roman uses his powers, he stands out like a lighthouse on a starless night. And yet in an almost paradoxical way, he's just an ordinary tall guy. Sure, he may have a lot of nicks and scars, but maybe he's just an active guy. What does he do? Oh, he works on cars and occasionally gets a harmless injury- Nothing fancy. When he isn't charging into battle, Roman keeps a good cover, preventing his connection to the Rebel Army from being traced back to his everyday life. It helps that his power covers every part of him- Including his face- when active.

| History |

Roman doesn’t remember a time when he wasn’t aware of his Gift. As a kid, he didn’t have anyone he cared to call family, and he lived on the streets running from anyone who had the nerve to look twice at him. Sometimes this was just some ordinary person, sometimes it was a Hunter. Up until the point Roman was 14, this was all his life consisted of. Finding some place to hide when he wasn’t at home, and hoping his old man wasn’t at home when he was, lest he be reported to the Hunters for the spiky material that his skin made.

Alas, this was the very thing that happened. Roman usually spent most of his days out of the house, just existing or getting through days at school During one such day, Hunters came to his school at attempted to drag him out. They burst through the door with guns drawn and trained on him while one of them tried to latch a collar around his neck. Perhaps it was foolishness, or perhaps it was adrenaline, but Roman fought back. Shots were fired and blood was spilled as Roman suddenly used his power in full for the first time. Spikes and stony growths erupted all over his body, and he grew taller. One of the Hunters was a Gifted as well, and fired some sort of laser at him. It slowly burned through the armor.

Everyone else in the room watched in terror as Roman, now resembling a humanoid dragon, mauled the Hunters. None of them stood up when he was done with them, and while he was still in a frenzy, Roman left and didn’t look back. He crossed hundreds of feet in seconds with the sudden leap in muscle he had. More Hunters waited outside to receive him in shackles, but he just barreled past them like they weren’t there, tearing their armored vehicle in half.

Two days layers, Roman was wandering through a distant city he had never been to, his power allowed him to cross the distance in hours. Someone found him and discreetly explained they knew about his situation, about the Hunters chasing him. Roman’s first reaction to this was to panic and defend himself, but then this anonymous individual started levitating. Roman didn’t immediately trust this, but then she told him about the Rebel Army, a place that sought to protect and liberate oppressed Gifted. Naturally, he was curious and followed her to their home base of operations.

Ever since then, Roman lived among fellow rebels. He trained to protect himself and the lives of others, learned the tactics and methods of the Hunters, and the history of the Gifted. As a kid, he mostly stayed behind the walls where he sought to understand his own abilities in a safer environment and learned to trust Gifted who didn’t want to hunt him down. Roman’s life had gone from nothing to having a future he would eventually realize. And that is just what he did.

The Hunters took to calling the wanted man “Dragonheart,” just as they called every so-called treasonous Gifted by some dramatic name. Roman didn’t care back then, but his first assignment at the age of 17 made him understand the importance of that presence. The Hunters feared his strength, he could stop their vehicles from running down innocents like he was a tree rooted in place. Their guns could do little more than scratch him, and he could break their spirit if he advanced. Rebel fighters rallied to his side and pushed the advantage with him. His first mission to free Gifted prisoners was a success in the end, and Roman believed in himself.

One mission came after the other, and they kept coming for the next two decades. The Rebel Army gave Dragonheart a purpose that he gave his all too, and he developed a reputation among his fellow rebels as one of their best. They all trust him with his life, and he trusts them with his. Those who joined him on the frontlines have witnessed him survive things that no one ever should, shake it off and continue the fight as if nothing happened. Dragonheart has seen to the freeing of hundreds in his time, defiantly making enemy of the Hunters and the Republic itself.

And he’ll be damned if he stops any time soon.

| Family |

N/A

| Strengths |

• Connections in the Rebel Army
• Excellent power control
• Performs well under pressure

| Weaknesses |

• Relentlessly stubborn
• Operates with the precision of a sledgehammer; He will hit what he's aiming for with calculated brute force, but brute force no less.
• Doesn't know when to let something slide

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The Other

| Theme Song |

_{”AGAINST THE WIND WE RUN,
TO EVERY PLACE UNDER THE SUN!
WE’VE GOT SO MUCH POWER INSIDE,
WE WILL NEVER GIVE UP!
AGAINST THE WIND WE GO,
TOWARDS THE NEW SHORE!
TOGETHER WE’LL FORGET THE SORROW,
IT’S FOREVER GONE!”}

| Extra Information |

N/A