Bounce

Titans!

First Chris post is up. He'll be on a short journey of discovering himself before that story loops him back to Infinity Inc.

Which gives Gowi time to get off his ass and post with Blossom :P

Titans!

S A M A R
The Visaya Islands, Philippines

The boy lay on his back. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face, the sand of the beach beneath his body, and breeze blowing across his skin. Staring up at the blue sky, he wasn't certain of how much time had passed. He felt cool water lapping against his feet, the sand beneath his legs growing moist as the tide started to come in. Fingers twitched at the tips of the outstretched arms, the boy's mouth working as though it were necessary for him to try and recall how to breathe. The chest rose and fell, the child's throat bobbing as he swallowed with the realization that his throat was dry. As the water rushed over the tops of his feet, drifting up along his legs, he finally sat up. Sand cascaded down from out of the shock of blond hair, trickling down over the narrow shoulders as the boy drew his knees up and sat upon the beach. He realized he was naked, but that wasn't unusual for children playing on the beach in this part of the world.

What was unusual was the fact that he was here. Flesh and blood, the warmth of the sun, or the cool ocean mist. This was the mortal realm. This was Earth. Home, or, at least, he thought of it as home. That wasn't really true anymore though.

He had been here of course. After he had parted with Al, Chris had spent time in the Afterlife. But he'd come back. He'd tried to do right, to be like Al, but he wasn't. He wasn't Al Simmons. Still, Chris had decided it was well enough and good if he could help a few souls to escape the ravages of Heaven and Hell by helping them cross over and above the tedious and spiteful War in Heaven. And that was the last thing he remembered, being in the Afterlife. There had been a child in New Mexico. The victim of a family of abuse. It hadn't been pretty, and Christopher couldn't save her, but what he could do - what he had done - was to make sure that she wasn't alone.

He had taken her home.

And now he was... here? There had to be a reason. One thing Christopher had learned was that nothing about his life or death existed without a reason, though it would be helpful if there was a script or manual or something he could read to help him know just what it was he was supposed to do when randomly finding himself on a beach somewhere. The sound of children laughing caused the boy to look out across the waterline for the first time, witnessing small groups of girls and boys splashing in the ocean. Standing, the young Hellspawn provided for his own modesty as his very flesh seemed to shift as though alive, changing form so that he was suddenly wearing a pair of black board shorts trimmed in red and white, with a skull icon on the left leg, and chains hanging from out of the pockets.

He'd picked a direction on a whim, strolling along the beach with neither purpose or cause. Just walking, one foot in front of the next, hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts as his mind wandered free of distraction. He thought about Al. He thought about the Green Lady. He thought about his mother, tried to recall her face, finding the memory clouded as though trying to see a reflection in a fogged over mirror.

The boy came to a stop, at first uncertain as to why. A breeze tickled at his ear, carrying it on a whisper that sent a chill up his spine, as realization and recognition connected inside of his mind. Death.

Someone was dying. Someone close.

The young boy's eyes darted back along the waterline. A group of children were calling out, not in an excited way but in more of a panic. Even as he started toward the ocean, Chris knew that one of them had been pulled under the water and hadn't resurfaced. Dashing past one of the kids splashing in search for their friend, the young Hellspawn hit the surf as he allowed himself to let go of his tangible body and embrace his phantasmal nature. Gliding effortlessly through the currents, the Hellspawn found himself drawn to the sense of impending death, as he saw a young girl drifting in the water. Her body's struggles growing weak. Her panicked heart beat growing faint...

Chris broke the surface of the water a moment later, the girl choking and coughing as she spit up water, oblivious to the fact that the two of them were hovering several feet above the ocean. And it was in that moment, feeling her heart beat grow stronger, that Chris knew what his purpose was.

This was why he was here.

Ultimate Comics: DC - Shadows Among Us

Gowi and I discussed this last night. For right now, I'm not dropping Bart. I hope to come back to him later, but in the meantime:

| Identity |
Kai-ro (Green Lantern)

| Origin & Backstory |
Kai-ro is a descendent of the ancient and extinct civilization of Nanda Parbat, born on Earth as the off-spring of refugees who escaped the destruction of their homeworld and were successful in integrating into human society centuries ago. Born into an impoverished family living in the Canton region of China, Kai-ro became one of many boys orphaned into the various Buddhist temples throughout the mainland. As a result, Kai-ro is fluent in both Cantonese Chinese and Mandarin Chinese, being formally educated in the latter while more often speaking the former in normal conversation while 'growing up monk' in the Southern Shaolin Temple outside of Hong Kong. Functioning like a boarding school and orphanage, the monastery saw to all of Kai-ro's basic needs while providing for his education in both the traditional schools of thought in addition to physical disciplines provided for by the practice of Chinese wu shu, or kung fu.

It was during Year 3 of our story's continuity that Kai-ro's story became something beyond that of a simple monk, living and learning in a temple in China. For it was in that year that the Green Lantern Abin Sur took off his ring and retired from the Corps. That ring was sent to search the universe for one whose will was strong, one who would stand up in brightest day and darkest night. And that ring found a young Shaolin monk named Kai-ro and the ring spoke to him and said, Kai-ro of Earth, you have the ability to overcome great fear.

Transported by the ring to the Corps Headquarters on the planet Oa, Kai-ro found himself indoctrinated into a new order and discipline; that of the Green Lantern Corps. Graduating from Killowog's training, the rookie Green Lantern found himself assigned to the diminutive and grizzled soldier, Ch'p as a probationary member of the Corps who will finish his training as a patrolman under Ch'p's watchful eye.

| Character Notes |
A few of Kai-ro's more commonly used NPCs:

Clarissi Salaak - The title roughly translates as 'Commander', denoting that this Slyggian from Sector 1418 and veteran Green Lantern is one of the chief administrators of the Lantern Corps, and is responsible for directing the Enforcement branch of the Corps.

Kilowog - Kai-ro's instructor and trainer, a Bolovaxian from Sector 0674 and a Green Lantern.

Ch'p - Kai-ro's supervisor in the field, a squirrel or chipmunk-like alien from the planet H'Iven in Sector 1014 and a Blue Lantern.

Aya - An artificial intelligence which exists as a humanoid robot and the computer of the Guardian patrol ship, Sentinel.

Miri Riam - A Pink Lantern from the planet Lartnec in Sector 1111.

Kreavan - Miri's partner, an Indigo Lantern who looks like a giant eagle.

| Powers & Abilities |
Kai-Ro is the youngest Green Lantern ever inducted into the Corps (youngest both in absolute age and relative to his species' normal biological development). He radiates serenity and a calm willpower beyond his years, and yet can still enjoy life with the wide-eyed wonder appropriate to his age.

- Green Lantern Ring, which allows Kai-ro to create green constructs from the sheer force of will and imagination. The ring also provides a protective aura around his body, enabling him to fly in atmosphere or the vacuum of space, and allows for faster-than-light travel in space.

- Martial Arts Master in Chinese Wu Shu, specifically Tai Chi Chuan and Shaolin Crane Style martial arts.

- Meditation Training as a Shaolin monk allows Kai-ro to center himself and maintain his emotions in check even in the most dire of circumstances.

| How is this character different? |
Admittedly, Kai-ro isn't much of a character to begin with. He appeared in maybe 3-4 episodes of the cartoons, primarily the two-part episode of Batman Beyond where he first appears and it isn't until the Justice League Unlimited comic books that he gets any kind of backstory. This character stays true to much of that, except that this Kai-ro has Abin Sur's ring whereas the DCAU Kai-ro has John Stewart's ring, but I hope to focus on more of a police procedural drama than the typical Green Lantern member of the Justice League stories - developing the Lantern Corps as actual interstellar law enforcement as opposed to just a dude with a ring chillin' on Earth when he's supposed to be responsible for a multitude of planets. Kai-ro's story will bring him to Earth, certainly, but on a transient basis. The point is to portray Kai-ro and the GLC for what it is: COPS in space.

| What is your goal with this character? |
I covered most of this in the section above, but to reiterate my goal is to tell a police procedural drama that takes place in the conceptual framework of the Green Lantern Corps. It's Interpol in space. Smugglers. Fringers. Drug runners. White collar crime and good old fashioned homicide. Interstellar navigational safety. And the classic disaster response. My goal is to tell a story about a character whose purpose is to serve and protect.

| Sample Post |



In the greater cosmos, the people are protected by two sides in the interstellar justice system; the Lanterns who investigate crimes and the local authorities who prosecute the offenders. The call came in at seventeen forty-seven, Oa Standard Time. A domestic disturbance on an asteroid base out on the edge of space in Sector 2814. That makes it my problem. My name is Kai-ro. I carry a ring.

| A S T E R O I D • B L U E • H E A V E N |

The small spacecraft exited out of the singularity, a blue glow radiating from the ion drives as power was diverted to the sublight engines, the kinetic force combining with the resulting inertial to propel the pristine vessel toward the massive rock which hung like a rogue planet against the backdrop of space. Inside the space craft, a feminine voice echoed and said, "We have entered Sector 2814, quadrant Gamma-9. Adjusting vector for approach to space station Blue Heaven."

"Domestic disturbance," the squirrel-like creature growled, blowing smoke from a distinctly non-regulation cigar as he barked, "What are we now, marriage counselors?"

Bringing a hand up to his face, the young Chinese boy waved the smoke away from his face despite knowing all-too-well the futility of his actions. In such a confined environment, even with Aya's carbon scrubbers working at maximum efficiency to recycle the air quality, the noxious odors continued to burn at his nostrils everywhere in the ship. "Blue Heaven is a private enterprise. WIthout local government law enforcement, it is necessary for the Corps to provide for community police protection in order to prevent this quadrant becoming a..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not the Poozer here, kid," Ch'p growled, interrupting the young Green Lantern before blowing smoke in his face. "This is, what, third time we've been out?"

"Fourth," Kai-ro corrected, coughing as the smoke choked the back of his throat.

"Well, maybe if you'd busted some heads the first, second, or third time, we wouldn't be out here again," the H'lven chipmunk snapped.

"There was no criminal complaint alleged and therefore it would be unconscionable to impose..."

"I'll show you 'unconscionable' if you don't shut up and arrest something," the grizzled Blue Lantern barked, waving with his cigar toward the back of the cockpit. "Now hit the beat, kid."

There were creatures in this world - in this universe - who tested the patience of even the most virtuous monk. With a sigh, the young Green Lantern hung his head as he resigned himself to the fact that Clarissi Salaak had, for whatever karmic slight Kai-ro may have caused in a prior life, partnered him with just such a creature. "Kao yao," the youth muttered in Chinese as he started toward the airlock.

"Yeah, moo goo gai pan to you too, kid."

The comment from the H'lven reached Kai-ro's ears just as he started through the exit of the cockpit, drawing his shoulders up in the only tangible display of irritation. Peace. Compassion. Peace... the boy repeated to himself, drawing in a deep breath which he let out slowly as he did the right thing and just walked away. As he stepped into the airlock, the boy brought his right hand up, adjusting the distinctive ring on his middle finger. A green aura enveloped his small form, as the exterior hatch was pulled away like a curtain to reveal the naked cosmos outside. Gently, the boy's foot drifted from off the deck as he floated freely into the vacuum awaiting him.

Space could be frightening the first time. There was no concept of up or down. No compass points with which to orient the mind. Some never overcame the vertigo. But Kai-ro? Kai-ro felt like this was true freedom. Putting his arms by his side, the child ducked and then pushed himself out through the void like a dolphin sliding through the sea. Gliding across the emptiness, the youth arced upward to arrive at an airlock that would give entry to the asteroid base. A pulse from his ring and the door parted for him, and Kai-ro stepped inside.

A century before, the asteroid had been cored out by a mining corporation. Left an empty shell, the remains of the mining station had been hastily converted into a port of call for people out on the fringe of this part of space. Pirates. Smugglers. Drug runners. The Green Lanterns knew that Blue Heaven, as it had come to be called, was nothing more than a waypoint from criminal elements drifting through the sector. But suspicion didn't amount to evidence, and so the Green Lanterns could do little more than keep an eye on the station. Still, it remained a lawless wonderland. A ghetto in space. Trash crunched under foot, along with something squishy that Kai-ro immediately tried not to think about as he made his way inside of the shoddy asteroid port.

B37T4-A, or Big Bertha, had originally been programmed as a lab assistant for a chemical company. Later advances in robotics and artificial intelligence design had led to Bertha being thrown out with the trash, but instead of being resigning herself to being reduced to scrap, the rusted automaton had wound up opening a bar out on Blue Heaven. There, she'd met up with a waste disposal unit that everyone called 'Marty' and the two had mixed like oil and water. Their passions for one another were, perhaps, impressive given the limitations of their designs, but that passion led to destructive behavior - usually by Bertha - which was of increasing concern to the residents of Blue Heaven.

That alone was concerning. It took a great deal for someone who lived on Blue Heaven to want to call the Lanterns.

As the young Green Lantern walked through the doors of the bar, an ion bolt buried itself into the wall about three feet to the left and two heads higher than he stood. The smell of residual gas coolant gave credence to the notion that such hadn't been the first shot fired, which would explain why someone would have been willing, if not eager, to call the Lanterns. In space, with the risk of the hull being compromised, no one won a gun fight.

Bertha was behind the bar, plugged into a voltage converted that had obviously made her onboard components drunk from the power surge. In one of her reedy, articulate limbs was a relic of the Trandoshan Civil War, a gas-powered ion bolt caster that was little more than a high-tech slug thrower. "You whore," the robotic bar tender managed, loudly slurring her words as her servos were unable to precisely calibrate for motion. The rifle waved wildly toward a squat, dirty-looking robot. "I... I kill you and... and that automated hussy!"

"Perhaps we could begin by placing the weapon on the..."

"Bertha, my love! My binary blossom, it was nothing!" Marty's roughly synthesized voice interjected, as the squat box-like robot seemed to dance from side to side. "A thirty second upload in a parallel connection, I swear! She means nothing to me!"

Turning toward the squat machine, Kai-ro looked sternly over at the waste robot and offered, "I do not believe such protests will be effect..."

"Upload!?" Bertha echoed, drawing both Marty and Kai-ro's attention to the chemist-turned-barmaid at the distinctive sound of the caster bolt being drawn back. "UPLOAD!?"

"Upload? No, I didn't upload in her..." Marty uttered weakly.

This was, in the boy's mind, exactly what a train wreck in slow motion must look like. "Go se," the child swore under his breath, as a large green shield appeared between himself, Marty, and the bar as several ion bolts slammed into the willpower construct. This was not what he'd envisioned when he'd been chosen as Green Lantern.

"I had reconstructive surgery for you!" Bertha barked, pausing her barrage as she gestured toward what were obviously a new set of oscillating processor tubes across the front of her torso.

"Yes'm, those are nice," Kai-ro quipped vapidly, not entirely certain that made sense, and less so just what he was saying, but it made sense to say something as he gestured with both hands for her to put the caster down. "We can talk about this rationally and without the need for viol..."

"Bitch, you best recognize that's my man!"

There were very few times that Kai-ro would have offered the opinion that discussion was a useless endeavor. As the automated food processor came wheeling into the bar, however, the Shaolin monk had to resign himself to the fact that this was one of those times.

"Oh, hell no!"

As Bertha roared and snapped up the rifle, the spry, young Green Lantern was already in motion. Quick as a snake, a sweep of the boy's leg had sent the Trandoshan rifle skidding across the bar top, as a series of green handcuffs snapped onto her reedy limbs. "Weapons discharge in an enclosed space environment is a class five misdemeanor," the youth asserted in a matter-of-fact tone. "I believe some time apart on Oa will help in alleviating this conflic..."

"GET YUR HANDS OFF MY WIFE!"

As he turned, Kai-ro saw Marty lunging for him, as the food processor came wheeling after. "That's my man!"

Had he mentioned that he hadn't signed up for this?

Ultimate One Universe: Marvel/DC RPG

HenryJonesJr said
Great first post, Bounce.

Thanks!

Ultimate One Universe: Marvel/DC RPG

First Loki post is up!

And so it begins...

Ultimate One Universe: Marvel/DC RPG

A S G A R D

In the stories, Odin was first of his brothers. First of the Aesir. He killed the first giant, whose blood became the great ocean, and then created Midgard with the giant's corpse. It was Odin who separated the worlds of the Nine Realms, Odin who laid down the Bifrost, Odin who built Asgard along the Sea of Marmora. It was Odin who sat upon the throne of Asgard. And it was Odin who fathered Balder, the Brave, and Thor, the god of Thunder.

But Odin had three sons.

Or, at least, Odin had said that he had three sons. It was possible that was the first lie spoken, the first deception, the first act of deceit - masquerading behind an act of charity. If that were so, then Odin was also the father of lies. But then, he had to be, didn't he? For Odin claimed to be the father of Loki.

Not a terrible thing, that. Until it was. Sometimes the most destructive lies were the white lies. How could it be wrong, to take pity on an infant left to die exposed to the frozen wastes of Jotunheim? How could it be a mistake to tell than child that he was of Asgard, that he was Odin's son, and even to re-make that small, weak frost giant into the likeness of the Aesir? How could it be terrible to raise that child to believe that he belonged, not only to Asgard, not only to family, but to a line of succession. And he had succeeded. Not because he had wanted to. Not because of any schemes of Loki, but for Balder's cowardice. Odin now slept the Odinsleep and the crown had fallen to Balder. And Balder had declined. To Thor then, but Thor was not among them.

And so a frost giant sat upon the throne of Asgard.

Were anyone to know, Loki's reign would be shortened by the most violent means available to the Aesir. But was this not the work of Odin? Was this not what his so-called father intended when he had claimed that dying infant as his own? A single tear slipped down the young boy's face as his eyes gazed down at the body of the Great Father. "Wake up, damn you," the young god whispered. Angrily. Desperately. But he did not cry for Odin. He cried for Loki. For heavy was the crown. Strange a thing like that. When he had been no more than Loki Odinson, he had wondered what it might be like to wear his father's crown and sit upon the throne. And why not? It was Balder's. And if not Balder, then it was Thor's. It was not meant for Loki, so of course he had wanted it them.

But then, Loki was the original fool.

"A king must not be seen as sentimental."

Few were they who could approach and Loki not be aware of it. As he looked up, startled, the young god's eyes turned up to the wise matron of all Asgard. "A king must be respectful, Mother," the youth answered, repeating back to Frigga words which she had first said to her sons. Part of him wondered, was it Odin who had changed Loki into an Aesir? Or had it been Frigga, the woman who had agreed to taking a frost giant into her home. A woman who kept now a secret which must be kept, for both their sakes.

"A king must command respect," the Queen corrected firmly, resting her hands on the boy's shoulders as she held in gaze. And then she pulled him in, drawing him into the warm, familiar embrace of a mother and child. And, for a moment, Loki needed to believe the lie that it was as so. "I am very proud of you, my little Loki," Frigga offered, as she released him and held the boy out at arm's length again. "Dry your tears. We will speak this night."

Taking note of the dismissal, the young king of Asgard inclined his head toward the woman as he took a step back, watching as Frigga took up a seat beside the sleeping All Father. Turning her head back to her son, Frigga said only, "Leave us for now."

And it was so.

"All hail the Odinson. King of all Asgard!"

He wondered if they would stop doing that were he to command them, but he already knew the answer. They wouldn't. Because it was not to honor Loki, but Odin. And for that same reason, Loki both admired and cursed them. Admired and cursed Odin. Admired and cursed. Perhaps that was his nature. The cry of a magpie echoed somewhere overhead, the boy catching a glimpse of a black bird in the high rafters of Asgard's royal palace as he walked from Odin's chamber toward the throne room.

And then he smelled... beautiful.

It wasn't a perfume. It wasn't a fragrance. It was a scent. It was her scent. Like fresh linen, dried in the sun. Or apples. The young king then stopped, ducking around a large column, and he saw her. The handmaiden was young, as Loki was young, the youngest of the Aesir, little more than children. Black hair cascaded down the back of her green dress, as she followed behind the powerful figure of the warrior-lady Sif. It struck Loki that to look at Leah for a lifetime would be a life well spent.

To talk to Leah was... a different sort of experience for him.

"My king," Sif's voice barked, echoing loudly through the halls as attention was suddenly thrust back upon Loki's shoulders. Approaching him, Leah just a step behind, the raven-haired warrior woman demanded, "Does the king of Asgard hide in shadow?"

"I... uh..." Loki began, his eyes at once upon Sif, and then to Leah, and then just as quickly everywhere but where Leah stood. He was supposed to be the smoothest tongue in all of Asgard, so why could he now not breathe? "I thought I heard a magpie trapped indoors," the boy lied smoothly, even as he felt his throat go dry and his chest squeezed as though in a vice.

"Well that I have found you then," Sif's voice boomed in answer, apparently moving on. Swallowing, the boy risked another glimpse at the handmaiden just behind and off to one side of the woman. She was looking at him. Locks of raven hair dressing the side of her face. A smile bright there, alighting the room as though he had witnessed the birth of a thousand suns.

The boy's eyes were quickly down to his feet, as he felt his breath stolen from him as a burning heat crept to his face.

"Hela demands audience with the king of Asgard."

Sif's words brought the boy's head up sharply. "Hela..." the boy began, as the image of an armored giant immediately sprang to mind with memories both sparse and unpleasant. "...is coming here?"

Sif nodded firmly. "It is so, my lord."

In his mind, Loki was trying to fathom a thousand possibilities. Why could Hela be coming here? What is it she wanted? And why now? It had to be the Odinsleep. It had to be Loki on the throne. But what else? "Then we shall prepare a feast," the boy uttered aloud, providing the most obvious and perfunctory of commands. "Tell everyone that this night we shall celebrate the Lady of Hel."

He didn't spare another glance to the handmaiden. He dared not, so to keep his wits as Sif and Leah left him to carry forth the command. Leaving him with his thoughts - a most dangerous position, for Loki and for Asgard.

It was then that the magpie landed on the base of the column behind where Loki had stood. Turning toward the black bird, the young god asked a question in a whisper. "Will you tell me what I want to hear?"

"No," the bird answered simply, as it cocked it's head and looked back at the boy with eyes that were like his own. Like staring at a mirror. And in that mirror, Loki could see himself. "But I will say what you need to hear," Ikol stated quietly.

Titans!

Spawn (Christopher Welland)

Name:
Christopher Welland

Alias:
Spawn (Hellspawn), Kid Spawn, Spawn Jr., etc. etc.

Role:
Titan

Brief Bio:
Ten years ago, Christopher Welland drowned after falling into a well. It was the kind of ordinary tragedy that happens in Smalltown, America as to have been utterly ignored by everyone who didn't know the Welland family. There was no heroic rescue by firefighters. There was no happy ending to the Amber Alert. Christopher had slipped and fell, breaking a leg in the process so that he had been unable to crawl back out of the flooded drainage ditch he had slipped down into. Those who attended the funeral all said the same thing, sometimes bad things just happen. There no reason to believe that anything sinister was at work behind the scenes, let alone the work of the divine.

No, not God, but a higher power. A man of miracles.

At the same time that Christopher Welland died, along with countless other souls all across the planet, a man named Al Simmons was being tortured to death. Somewhere between life and death, Christopher's soul became intertwined into Al Simmon's very being. Al Simmons emerged from Hell with a demon's pact that had made him into a Hellspawn, trained by Violator and then the ex-Hellspawn Cogliostro - who was in reality Cain, the first murderer. Al was unaware that Christopher and other souls were residing in his body, until a battle in which his heart was torn out. Having become the Hellspawn's heart, Christopher was now free of Al Simmon's body.

And then Christopher introduced Al to all the friends that he had made, inside of Al's body, a legion of over six thousand souls. With Christopher as the heart-key of the Legion, Al Simmons was able to overcome his demons - both those within and those without - and managed to prevent Armageddon. With the task for which the legion's souls had been prepared complete, most of the legion moved on to the afterlife. But Christopher remained behind, one of a handful of the legion's souls. Perhaps to try and make a difference. Perhaps to try and experience some shade of life as we know it. Perhaps for no reason other than to make his own destiny. For whatever the reason, he is an angel from Hell or a demon from Heaven. He is the sum of all lost innocence. He is Spawn.

Now he wanders, a being not of this Earth, and belonging to neither Heaven or Hell. He fights evil where he can, lifts up the impoverished, tries to bring justice to those who have none. But his greatest moment comes when he can help a soul to cross over from this life to the next, protecting them from the jealous armies of both Heaven and Hell so that they might be spared use as fodder in that never-ending story of jealousy and tragedy.

Abilities:
As an entity composed of roughly 9,000 units of necroplasm, Christopher is able to manipulate both tangible and intangible effects in the mortal realm as well as in Hell. He is effectively powerless, and mortal, when in the Heavenly realm.

- Super Stamina. As necroplasm is denser than human bone or tissue, Christopher weighs several hundred pounds more than he otherwise appears, making his body more durable than that of an ordinary mortal. This also contributes to his strength to a degree.

- Symbiote Armor. Having been part of Al Simmon's body, Christopher wears an identical Hellspawn suit that is composed of an off-shoot of K7-Leetha. The suit has a consciousness of its own and has been known to act in its own defense without Christopher's knowledge. As the suit is merged with his central nervous system, Christopher is able to manipulate the armor on a whim, generating chains, capes, spikes, or altering its appearance to resemble more mundane clothing.

- Shadow Teleport. Christopher's unique power, making him the heart of the Legion, Christopher is able to summon souls across the Void or even through the Veil. Using this power, he was able to teleport souls from out of Al Simmons body or summon them from the Great Beyond to the various realms or spheres of Hell.

- Nightmare Fuel. Christopher can recharge his necroplasm by drawing in the childhood phobias and nightmares of other children around him.

- Hellfire Manipulation. The most basic of the Hellspawn's power, to generate necroplasm as bolts of eldritch energy.

- Necromancy. Christopher can summon, manipulate, command, compel, and commune with the spirits of the dead.

- Flight/Phantasm Form. Christopher can make himself intangible, as though a ghost, allowing him to drift on air currents or pass through otherwise solid objects.

- Psychometry. The ability to see psychic impressions left by traumatic events concerning an object.

Personality:
Merrily, merrily, merrily... life is but a dream. The heart of Spawn, the key to the Legion, Christopher Welland has now been dead for longer than he was ever alive. The memories start to fade, like the taste of a Happy Meal that turns to ash in his mouth. In dreams, he tries to remember what it was like to be alive. In reality, he's grown detached through the decades. The War in Heaven, the self-imposed task of helping lost souls to cross over, have all reinforced that he is the personification of innocence lost. Sometimes though, he can still remember how to smile. It is a very beautiful dream, life, when he can remember it.

Appearance:

Originally appearing as a decomposing Hellspawn who gouged out his own eyes after witnessing Billy Kinkaid's perverse actions upon other children, Christopher's form has changed significantly since his return from Beyond. He appears now as he did when he was mortal. Or, at least, in as much as he recalls his mortal appearance. He has a closely cropped shock of blond hair and eyes that are ordinarily blue - though may glow with green hellfire when he is angered. While he is always attired in a symbiote suit, Christopher is sometimes successful in altering its form to appear to be black jeans and a black hoodie in lieu of the black, red, and white Spawn costume.

Affliation:
Infinity, Inc.

- Blossom Utonium. Christopher was not a founding member of Infinity, Inc, even though his acquaintance with Blossom dates back to the Power Puff Girls. The two have a shared history that is bittersweet for his part in helping Professor Utonium to cross over from this life to the afterlife.

- Dexter McPherson. As a mystical creature, Christopher often offers a supernatural perspective that eschews the dogma-like pragmatism of Dexter, who is the team mate that he understands the least.

- Danny Fenton. The team mate Christopher is closest to, for obvious reasons, as their heroic adventures between the human and otherworldly realms often lead their interests to coincide.

Other:
Theme song: "Demons" (Imagine Dragons)

Titans!

CS submitted via PM. I've included Gowi on it, as it borrows from both Infinity, Inc's history as well as Blossom's personally to a degree, but he and I were talking through it as I was writing it last night so I think it's all kosher.

Also, it's a very obscure Image Comics character. If you need help finding canon references to him, let me know (Comicvine doesn't have an entry for him, but I can point you to specific issues if requested).

---

Edit: Gracias, senor. Will have a post up in a few.

Titans!

Gowi seems to be by himself in Infinity, Inc so I'll try and come up with something that suits that.

Star Wars - Jedi Exile.

The young Anzati and the young Nautolan had very little in common. They were both Jedi younglings, but one was an amphibian while the other was quite terrestrial. Zak, the green skinned boy with his large, solid black eyes, was the clan's best swordsman. SJ, on the other hand, with his human features, was the better at Force manipulation. One might grow up to be a great Jedi, the other was destined to become a great monster -- with hope that Jedi training might allow him to off-set his predatory nature.

With all their differences, they were friends. Now, they seemed more than that, clinging to one another for emotional support as the two boys trailed alongside and behind the Vahla padawan. The images of what they saw were reflected in their eyes. Bodies, propped up against the wall, lying prone on the floor, many missing parts or limbs or with terrible wounds that left no question as to their death. The smell of death choked their nostrils, sickening as it hung in the air. The sounds of the dying echoed through the halls.

If there was a hell, then surely they had found it.

As he overheard the Temple Guards arguing, new tears slipped down his face for the realization that they were leaving those not yet dead to die here, alone. It didn't seem right. It didn't seem Jedi. But, for all he had witnessed, Sor-Jan wasn't certain he knew what a Jedi was anymore. He had seen bravery, courage... and a savageness that had been too real, too primal.

He was scared and confused. All he could think of now was that he wanted to leave this place.