Member
Inertia
Neziul
Chrys
Ducksworth
Name:
Maddox Caede
Age:
16
Gender:
Male
Adaptation:
Maddox’s cells were being tested to determine whether or not humans could eventually be made into cheap, reliable power sources. Ergo, Maddox is able to generate and manipulate electrical currents in the air, in the form of a contained sort of lightning. Additionally, he is able to channel said currents into, through, and among his own body, with no risk of dealing harm to himself or his bodily systems.
Bio:
It started with death. Two, if you care. The death of Maddox’s parents, if you’re specifically interested. They died when Maddox was still far too young to understand the gravity of the situation, but old enough to remember what they were like in the years that followed. However, scooped up out of the orphanage by his new “parents” only a few months later would leave the child with little time for retrospective. You see, the posers claiming to be his “Mom” and “Dad” had very strange notions as to what made for a successful child. Some nonsense about a thing called football. What kind of maniac ran up and down a strip of artificial grass assaulting people to gain possession of a piece of leather? Maddox quickly decided that these two were almost as bad, maybe even worse, than his previous parents.
Simply put, Maddox had his interests placed elsewhere. Academics were a particular passion of his, and there was never a year that he didn’t place at the top of his classes; the most advanced ones. When it came to smarts, Maddox was the best of the best, and he knew that intelligence would always win out in the end. Beyond academics however, even beyond his overwhelming distaste for the stupidity that was sports, Maddox had an even greater mania, that of human emotions. He desired to know what made people tick, what made them laugh or cry, what they were more or less likely to do in the face of potential crisis, and more importantly, how he could use all of this information to effectively manipulate them. So that’s what Maddox did. He became very good at it, very quickly.
Maddox was God. Anything he wanted could be his. Girls that loved him long after he had broken their hearts and moved on to a more intriguing game, best friends, singularly loyal, that expected no friendship in return, informants feeding him all manner of gossip from the shadows, receiving and accepting meaningless thanks as their only payment, teachers that looked the other way whenever someone needed to be roughed up a bit. Or a lot. For two years, Maddox was God.
As it started with death, so too did it end. The body count was two, if you care. The victims were Maddox’s adoptive parents, if you’re specifically interested.
The September of junior year was an interesting time for Maddox. Specifically the third Tuesday of the month at around one o’clock AM. He had just secured the nudes of one Cynthia Birchfield, a rather attractive sophomore, and was feeling quite pleased with himself. She’d been a tougher nut to crack, which only made Maddox even more eager to have her willingly exposed for him. He practically revelled in the power that came with being privy to such intimacy. It was here, out of the blue, while Maddox was carefully studying the images sent to him to determine whether further seduction was worth it, that a realization hit him. No, that word was far too weak for the magnitude of what Maddox now saw. It was a revelation!
Having his goons beat on people for cash, forging friendships and relationships that people never realized meant nothing to him, and generally causing chaos in the school was certainly entertaining, but gods were capable of so much more, and Maddox was God. So right then and there, he began to plot to finally pay back his “mother” and “father” for trying to impersonate his deceased parents, and daring to be fans of that stupid, stupid sport.
Maddox began cozying up to his adoptive parents immediately, doing more work around the house, watching football games with them, even going so far as to learn the science behind the sport to impress them with new plays he had devised. It was a few months later that Maddox sat down at the dinner table across from the stupid posers and revealed a handgun he had been concealing, one that was procured weeks ago to be used when the time was right. Maddox explained cheerily to the shocked fools that one of them was meant to take the gun and willingly end their own life with it. If they refused, Maddox would kill himself instead.
This wasn’t to be the glorious triumph he had expected, however. Dear little Maddox made one fatal miscalculation, one miscalculation that would cost him his freedom and his throne. His adoptive parents loved him. Loved him. They wanted to save him. So when Jack got up from his chair to get his son to relinquish possession of the gun, and Jill went tumbling the other way to get to the landline, Maddox screamed in rage and shot them both dead. And so it was that God fell from his grace.
Someone must have heard the gunshots, because the police did arrive, and what they found were the corpses of a man and a woman, deliberately moved close to each other, their eyes pulled closed. The blood smears on the tiled floor led to Maddox himself, seated, elbows planted firmly on the table and his head planted firmly in his hands, the gun about half a foot away from him. He was laughing softly to himself.
The trial didn’t last as long as one might think. Maddox knew that it was over. Two years in a juvenile detention center before being carted off to a prison for life. He knew it was over, but he also knew that it couldn’t end that way. Maddox plead not guilty by reason of insanity, and the judge ruled in his favor. The psychiatric hospital near town was a pleasant enough place, and would serve as a good staging point where Maddox could reclaim his lost power. Plans were changed at the last moment however, and he was instead inducted into the Geheime Wetenskaplike Laboratorium Asylum, on the other side of the country.
Nothing could have prepared Maddox for the horrors he was going to endure.
However, endure them he did, and once the experiments had stopped, there was within Maddox newfound power and purpose. The chances that he was the only one to be experimented on were slim to none. No, he had heard the screams, there were others. He would form a syndicate of these forcibly evolved mutants and take vengeance on the world for all of it’s shortcomings, and with these new powers the others must have manifested alongside himself, they would rule supreme.
Personality:
Maddox is cunning, calculating, and manipulative. Having never met someone whose intelligence was on par with his, he views the rest of humanity as he knows it as toys to be played with, or devices to be used to achieve his own ends. While Maddox is already incapable of feeling emotions in the typical fashion, during times of stress he detaches himself emotionally from the situation to look upon things with an unbiased eye and a clear head.
Number:
7
