Captain Uni

Absolute Comics: The Advertisement Thread

Don't mind me, just dropping my Blade CS here. It's pretty much finished.

This Party's Getting Crazy

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

B L A D E

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^{_{E R I C B R O O K S ♦ H U N T E R O F T H E O C C U L T ♦ N E W Y O R K C I T Y , N E W Y O R K ♦ I N D E P E N D E N T}}

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

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^{"Come on, honeys! Let's get this party started!"}

The biggest changes for this incarnation of Blade come down to two things: his level of experience, and his occupation. My attempt at Blade will see him much younger and more wild, only being born in 1998 in this universe. Blade will also be going after more supernatural creatures than just vampires; anything that goes bump in the night is fair game now. Expect him to face off against all sorts of monsters and beasts. It should also be noted that my interpretation of the vampire killer owes a good chunk to the video game series Devil May Cry, more specifically its main character Dante, another half-human hybrid hunting his own kind. Blade will focus less on quickly defeating his enemies and more on making a mockery of them, fighting in a flashy manner and frequently taunting them, all to defeat them in the most stylish way possible.

Finally, some elements of Blade's background have been changed as well. As mentioned, he was born in the late 90s as opposed to 1929, and was one of several children born whose mothers were bitten by a vampire who worked at the hospital. Most of these children died, though two lived: Eric, and another baby boy named Deacon Frost. With both of their mothers dead, they were put into an orphanage only to be adopted by vampire hunter Abraham Whistler, who raised them and taught them how to fight their own kind. Deacon rejected his human side, instead desiring to rule over the supernatural underworld; his adoptive brother and father tried to stop him, but were both defeated. Now, Eric has focused on fighting all monsters under the alias Blade, with the ultimate goal to defeat his brother, all while trying to maintain his new (and currently nameless) shop.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

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I mostly decided on this DMC inspired version of Blade due to both getting into the DMC series and also wanting to put my own unique spin on a character I'm not very familiar with. Hey, if it worked in UOU, it should work here too, right? I figure I'm at my best when I've got some wiggle room and this RP gives me the perfect chance to experiment a bit. Plus, it'll be fun to write some fight scenes that mix gun-fu with feats of acrobatic swordplay.

Regarding Blade's story, his first arc will mostly involve trying to hunt down his brother Deacon Frost, who is attempting to take over the supernatural underbelly of the world. In between attempts to find his brother, he'll be taking on other, unrelated supernatural cases. Once that's done, I'll mostly be focused on having Blade continuing to manage his supernatural hunting business and take on new cases, potentially opening the door for crossovers.

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

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Expect there to be a lot of music in posts. That is all.

S A M P L E P O S T:

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The phone was ringing.

The phone never rings.

I stepped out of the bathroom and slid into my shirt, sitting down in the chair behind the desk. Grabbing a slice of pizza from the box I had just ordered, I took a bite before taking the phone. "Yeah?" I asked around a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese.

"Are you the hunter known as Blade?" The voice was an older sounding guy, kinda creepy too.

Hm. Guy knows my name. Doesn't seem like I should hang up on him. Still, dude was missing something... "Password?"

"I was told it was 'jackpot'."

I grinned. About damn time. "Haha, finally! Last coupla weeks I've only gotten calls from people who didn't know wh-"

"I'm going to drop off a gift for you."

I knitted my brow in confusion. "A gift, eh?"

"A gift from the supernatural underworld of New York. We don't like hunters." The line went dead.

With a snort, I threw the phone back onto the receiver and stood up, finishing my pizza as I walked around to the front of the desk. "Sounds like trouble. Man, it's always one thing after anot-" Before I could finish my sentence, I felt a sharp pain through my back, as though something had stabbed me. A man walked around from behind, holding a blood coated dagger.

I needed to get to my sword. So, I promptly fell over as though defeated. "Hmph. Thought this would be harder." It was the voice of the man on the phone, and I could see the unnatural yellow glint in his eyes.

A vampire.

I sprung up to my feet and backflipped behind my desk, grabbing my sword off the wall. My body was already healing, the meat beneath my now ruined shirt knitting itself back together. The vampire paled. "N-not possible! The blade is silver!"

I chuckled. "Sorry, bro. Might have all the neat powers of a vampire, but I don't have a single one of their weaknesses." Raising the sword, I pointed the blade at him with a grin. "So come on, bloodsucker! Let's dance!"

Absolute Comics: The Advertisement Thread

Got a Blade CS in the works like I said, Wraith.

Power Play

Gotcha boss.

Power Play

Well, shit. Looks like Korkoa's nabbed up electrokinesis. I just finished my own character with electrokinesis, but I'm sure we both have different ideas in mind on how to play them.

Anyway, here's my completely confused and scared shitless electric dude.

Just A Little Thunderstruck

Name:
Jake Rosenberg
Alias:
Considering he's too busy trying to figure out what the hell is going on, it's safe to say coming up with a silly superhero name isn't on his mind.
Appearance:
Jake isn't a very remarkable man. He has close-cropped brown hair, brown eyes, a beard that's getting rather bushy, and fair skin. Not quite ugly, though not quite attractive; just plain. His height and weight are nothing to be awed by either, Jake standing at 5'10 and weighing 154 pounds. In terms of clothing, he usually dresses casually, a thin hoodie thrown over a t-shirt with jeans and sneakers completing the ensemble. Overall, an average Joe you'd pass on the street without a second glance. Picture for reference.
Age:
25
Gender:
Male
Hometown:
Seattle, Washington
Biography:
Jake Rosenberg's life story isn't the sort of thing you'd expect from a superhuman. He didn't have some great tragedy befall him; none of his family members got shot in a mugging, his girlfriend didn't get killed by the big bad guy, he didn't find out a family friend was a supervillain. His entire life was quite possibly engineered to be the blandest thing imaginable.

Jake comes from a middle class family, two-story-three-bedroom house, working dad, stay at home mom, older and more popular sister, golden retriever, the works. He wasn't an A student, didn't excel at any sports aside from doing track and field, and had a decent amount of friends. He graduated high school and didn't know what to do. Without much of a plan, he packed up his things and headed to Bell Reach to try and find what he should do with his life.

He ended up getting a part-time job at a movie theater while he tried to decide whether to go to college, find a better job, or just head back home and work at his dad's store like his father wanted him to. Eventually, his part-time job became full-time and before Jake knew it, he was 25, living in a mediocre apartment and making just above minimum wage. He was trapped in a rut, work work work and no time for anything else, no grand plans or anything. Something needed to happen.

And of course, that's when something finally did happen.

Two weeks back Jake decided to go for a run for the first time in ages. When he left it was noon, clear skies all around, but by the time he reached the warehouse district a mile from his apartment it was starting to rain. He decided to finish up at the edge of the warehouse district then turn back, when suddenly, a bright flash appeared before him. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in a hospital bed.

Once the doctors found that he was awake he was told that he had gotten struck by lightning and had been out for a week in a coma. They said that he wasn't badly hurt, but he would need to stay there a few more days so they could make sure he was alright. Three days ago he was released and went back to his usual routine... But something was different. He felt a spark of something within him.

Two days ago Jake accidentally fried his phone. Later that same day he ended up shocking himself when he grabbed his door handle. Yesterday he went into the bathroom after waking up and found that his hairs were standing on end, when he was at work he accidentally shut off the power for an hour. Last night he went up to the roof of his apartment building and tried to channel whatever this was... And ended up shooting out several arcs of lightning from his hands.

Since then, he's been terrified. Jake feels like he's finally starting to lose it. There's no way he's one of those super people that have been popping up these last few years... Right?
Personality:
Where Jake lacks in an interesting history or stunning looks, he continues to fall flat in terms of personality. He's not the most charismatic of individuals, being rather awkward and occasionally stumbling over his words. Jake is very polite, to the point that he's almost a complete pushover. And since the awakening of his powers, he's also been rather terrified, so much that it makes him more awkward than normal. He's been more prone to keeping away from people, out of fear he might hurt them.
Skillset:
There's not much to say about Jake's skills, the only notable thing being that he took track and field all throughout high school and as such is a bit faster than the average person.
Powers:
Electrokinesis - Ever since the incident happened, Jake has been able to generate lightning from his fingertips and manipulate it in interesting ways. He's been too scared to test his limits or experiment. He also finds that he's become rather intolerant of water, feeling a sharp jolt of pain every time he touches it, making showers difficult.
Tools and Equipment:
... Does a wristwatch count as a tool?
Additional Information:
Speech color is PaleTurquoise.
Jake can cook some good spaghetti.
Theme
Combat Theme

Power Play

Think I'm gonna give this a crack if you'll have me, Pyro.

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

10:48 PM; February 28th, 2026
344 Clinton Street, Room 237; Metropolis, Delaware
'I have to go to Gotham. I can't stop thinking about it.'

Sliding the letter under the door to Marilyn's bedroom, Stacy sighed, readjusting the straps of her backpack. She knew she had to leave while Marilyn was sleeping; if she tried to say goodbye, it would only end with her staying. But she knew she couldn't, she had to get to Gotham City. Maybe there, she could find some answers about all these things she's been remembering...

Shaking her head, Stacy focused on her objective. She headed over to the window, opening it up, and climbing over it and onto the fire escape. Closing the window, Stacy climbed down the ladder and dropped onto the ground into the back alley. She looked around for a moment, before heading out onto the sidewalk. She didn't know how she'd get to Gotham, but for now, she would walk.

With determination in her step, Stacy began her journey out of the city.

3:12 AM; March 1st, 2026
US Route #9; Outside of Metropolis, Delaware
'Gosh it's cold... I really wish I had a thicker jacket.'

Stacy rubbed her hands together, shivering slightly. The cold night air was unrelenting, gusts of wind blowing so strong she wasn't sure if she'd be blown away or frozen solid, or rather she wasn't sure which of the two would come first. She needed to get off the road, find shelter or better yet hitch a ride to Gotham. But then, who would stop for her? She doubted everyone was as kind as Marilyn... No, no that's crazy talk. There were good people out there, someone would st-

*HONK!* "Yo kid, are you, like, crazy man? It's like, below freezing out here!"

Speak of the devil.

The voice came from a beat up white panel van, the person behind the wheel being a man who looked barely out of high school. Music was blaring from inside the van, and smoke rose out of the windows. On the side of the van facing Stacy were messily written words in bright red paint: 'The Musical Chairs'. Weird. The man in the driver's seat snapped his fingers. "Hey, Earth to weird little girl, you alright?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm fine. Um... What's up?"

"Are you like, lost or something man? It's pretty dangerous to be walking out here in the middle of the night. All sorts of weirdos could be coming and going." He paused. "... Woah, maybe I'm one of those weirdos. I like... Never even thought about that, man."

This guy seemed funny. And, yeah, like a weirdo. Stacy just cut to the chase. "Hey, are you heading to Gotham? I need a ride there."

The man blinked. "Oh, yeah, for sure man. Let me just..." He pressed a button inside the van, and Stacy heard the back doors unlock. "It's open for ya, dude. Just don't break the guitars or anything." With that, Stacy walked around to the back doors of the van, opening them up and hopping in.

Inside were two guitars and a cooler. In the passenger's seat was another young man, also looking just barely out of high school, who was holding a lighter to what looked like a cigarette. The smoke inside the car was thick, and Stacy coughed as she took in a lungful of it. After a moment, however, she found herself breathing it in easily, and feeling pretty... Calm.

"So, like, what's up with you man?" the guy in the passenger's seat asked. He passed the cigarette to the driver, before reaching his hand into a bag of potato chips and tossing a few into his mouth.

"I'm just like, uh... Trying to go to Gotham and stuff."

"Oh that's cool man. We're, um, like... We're heading there too. We're like, a two man band, man. Gonna play in bars trying to make it big."

As Stacy took more and more breaths, she started to giggle uncontrollably, just smiling. "Woah that's... That's really cool. You guys should like, play a song for me once we get there."

The driver finally passed the passenger back the cigarette thing, before speaking to Stacy. "Oh crap, we like, forgot to introduce ourselves. My name's Will, and this is my buddy Andy. What's your name, lil dude?"

"I'm uh... I'm Stacy."

Andy chuckled, nudging Will with his elbow. "Yo man, I wonder if her mom's got it goin' on!"

Will gave a snort of laughter. Stacy looked confused for a moment before giggling along, and soon the entire van was shaking with their combined laughter.

"Aw, man... What were we laughing about again?"

"I dunno."

"No clue."

And so, the van continued its journey into the night.

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

6:41 AM; February 24th, 2026
David's Apartment; Gotham City, New Jersey
'Home sweet home. Seems like it's been forever since I've been here.'
"Indeed, it does seem like a while since he's been here. Must be an effect of the constant coming and going between his memories."

David climbed through his window in a less than agile fashion, landing flat on his ass and taking a moment to breathe. Max trotted up to him, the dog staring at his owner inquisitively, as if questioning the cheap clothes he was wearing. "Yeah, sorry Max, was a pretty crazy night." He pulled himself up and pet the dog, before taking off his helmet and removing the raggedy clothing he took from a back alley on the way home. "You hungry, buddy? I'll get ya some food."

David went into his apartment's kitchenette, pulling out Max's dog food and pouring some of it into the bowl. The dog quickly scrambled into the kitchen at the sound of food being poured into his bowl, and began to munch greedily on the kibble. Dave chuckled at the dog's antics. "Yeah, don't starve yourself or anything. Fatass." He headed back into the living room, collapsing onto the couch and sighing. He needed some rest. He didn't have work today, thank God, so it was fine if he slept in for a while.

Taking a deep breath, David closed his eyes, and fell into sleep.

November 20th, 2021; 12:46 AM
Abandoned Warehouse, Warehouse District; Gotham City, New Jersey
'I'm going to die... I'm going to die... This can't be happening, it can't!'
"The nightmare that he's having is... Not for the faint of heart. Those who can't handle it should leave the room."

It was going so well.

Blackstar had taken his suit just hours before in order to head after Anarkee's goons by himself, confident that he could take them down. He had just beaten four of the five when he heard a gunshot, followed by a searing pain in his side. Then he collapsed, vision fading into black. The last thing he felt was being lifted off the floor and thrown over someone's shoulder.

Which leads to now, his costume torn to shreds, his helmet carelessly thrown aside when Anarkee had first started torturing him, and his damaged voice modulator heavily distorting his gasps and grunts of pain. Anarkee had started with her 'razor gloves', leading to the torn costume, and was about to do much worse to him.

It was going so well!

Anarkee had begun building her small gang quite by accident, a few disenfranchised youths looking for a cause and a few packs of white face paint had led to a positively booming success! A group of anarchists under her lead painting the town red with their passion, sometimes literally! There were very few rules for the Angels, Anarkee didn't like rules very much. But there was one: Don't make Anarkee angry. She'd had to teach a lesson to a few young upstarts about that one, but everyone mostly fell in line now, and some even went out of their way to make her happy. Like drawing Blackstar, AKA David Kasimir, Grim's young ward off by himself. So focused on taking out her little minions, he didn't even notice the trap! Anarkee would have preferred Grim, of course. But young David was a good consolation prize...

Anarkee tapped her fingers together, shivering at the sounds of the metal fingertips rapping off of each other. "Now now, don't give up on me yet, Blackstar!" She said cheerfully, stepping behind the chair he was bound in and beginning to undo his voice modulator. "We're only just getting started, and I haven't even begun to discover who's the mask and who's real yet!" Anarkee chuckled and yanked off the voice box with a swift motion, digging her razor sharp fingers into David's shoulder.

"Before we begin in earnest though, I wonder... What has Grim told you about me? And not just the bloodied angel you have the honor of interacting with today, but the woman behind the paint. Has your mother shared that story with you?"

The eldest of the Kasimir brothers struggled in his bonds as Anarkee began to undo his voice modulator. He turned his head to look at her, and spat at her, the loogie landing on her cheek. "I don't give a good fuck who you were, all I know is that now you're a fucking pyschopath," the young vigilante said defiantly, despite the immense pain he was in.

"And when Grim and Watchdog get here? We're gonna kick your ass to Kingdom fucking COME!"

Anarkee barely blinked when Blackstar turned on her, smiling slightly as he yelled and spat, even as her own face became the target. She reached up and wiped the offending insult off her cheek, being careful not to cut herself. Then Anarkee leaned down and ruffled David's hair forcefully, grinding the loogie into his hair and digging her sharp-tipped gloves into his scalp. "Such fire. Such passion. You could have made a good Angel. But then, you got that from mommy dearest, didn't you?"

Anarkee stepped around Blackstar, dragging her hand along his chest as she went, leaving deep gashes along his already tattered costume and into his flesh. "I don't normally monologue about my past, Davey." She explained with a grin. "But for you, I'll make an exception. Oh, and don't worry about us being interrupted, I've already taken care of your trackers. It's just us."

"Many years ago, before you were even a glimmer in your dead parents eyes, there was a boy. A boy very much like you, David." Anarkee said, flicking her foot and extending the embedded knife in her boot. "He had a rough childhood. Too many expectations, not enough opportunities. Society passed him by. And then he got hurt bad, and the doctors had to take his arm." She murmured darkly before turning and digging her razors into David's bicep. "Right about here. Imagine that, being a twelve year old with an amputated arm. That's expensive, you know. And our great country made sure his parents never forgot it. His mother worked herself to death, and his father went soon after out of grief." She growled, leaning in and pressing a sharp finger into Blackstar's chest, near his heart. "And now, he was almost completely alone. You know how that feels, don't you? Well, he got lucky, just like you did, little Kasimir. He had his own Kasimir, a rich young girl with fiery hair and a fieryier personality. And he found a brother, a beast of a boy who wouldn't ever let life knock him or his family down. And he found an idol. A dark specter of justice, the Grim Guardian of Gotham. And he wanted to do what Grim did. Make the city safe. So he put on a mask. Found some scum. And was found dead and bloated in the harbor a week later." Anarkee straightened up and kicked at Blackstar's shins harshly, snarling at him as she fought to keep his attention. "And Grim did nothing to stop him! Nothing to help! Zoey didn't even try to talk him out of it!" She screamed into the echoing warehouse before leaning down and grabbing David's chin.

"And because of that, she took my baby brother from me, David. Did she ever tell you that?"

David could do nothing but listen as Anarkee monologued on about her tragic past, occasionally giving him more wounds which he tried his best to ignore. Though he didn't show it on the outside, inside David was conflicted; his own mother didn't even try helping whoever it was Anarkee was talking about, her brother it seemed, and of course having a brother of his own made him a bit sympathetic for her.

'... What the fuck am I thinking?' The boy cleared his thoughts, reminding himself that this was a very dangerous woman who, if Zoey and Malcolm didn't arrive quickly, would kill him. He shouldn't feel a damn bit of sympathy for her. She had dug her grave. He was going to make sure that she was the one who ended up in it, no matter what.

By the time she had finished her story, however, leaning in so that she was only a few inches away from his face and placing a gloved hand on his chin, David had given up hope that Zoey and Malcolm were coming. He knew he would die here. He had never been scared of dying... At least, he thought so. But staring death in the face right now, he could barely hold it together... He was going to die.

He was going to die.

But he'd be damned if he would die without putting up a fight.

David gave a small chuckle. "... Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?" he asked, before ramming his head into her nose.

Anarkee reared back, pain blossoming in her face as her nose broke with a sickening crunch. She stepped back and groaned for a moment before steeling herself and shrugging off the pain. She was no mere sheep on the street, she was stronger and better. Blinking through her stinging eyes, Anarkee grinned at Blackstar, feeling the blood coming from her nose. "Oh, I like you!" She said with a throaty chuckle.

"Just for that, you get a chance. One shot." Anarkee pointed a clawed finger at Blackstar and felt her metahuman powers activate. She could feel his steely resolve, fear tempered by rage and a deep desire to turn the table and do her harm. Anarkee slowly closed her fist and channeled a feeling of neutrality towards him, ideally allowing for instinct and ego to take over for just a moment...

"Answer wisely, little firecracker. No going back after this one. How does the position of AnarchAngel sound?"

For some reason, David felt... Calmed. Gone was the anger, the resolution to stick to his guns, the fear. Now he just felt like there was nothing to worry about. He was just David in that moment. She asked him a question. He responded in a monotone voice, "If I have to be perfectly honest, then you can take your offer and shove it up your diseased twat. I don't care if I have to fight through the depths of Hell. I will make sure that you die in the most painful way I can imagine."

With those words, his fate was sealed.

Shaking her head, Anarkee strolled leisurely around David, leaning over to spit out a mouthfull of blood. Once she was behind him, she reached out to the other object in the room, the head of the large hammer scraping on the ground as she hefted it over shoulder. Anarkee let her emotional manipulation on Blackstar fall away as she toyed with the toggles on the hammers grip. "That's a damn shame, you know? We could have started some beautiful fires. Oh well. I'll make it quick for your sake." She said before flicking a switch. The canisters on the end of the hammer roared and burst into flame, and Anarkee swung the rocket-propelled hammer through the air, the arc terminating perfectly in David Kasimir's brain.

David always heard people say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes.

That's a load of sh

...

t h i s i s i t
"... His vitals... They're dropping! Shit! This is bad!"
t h e e n d
"Get some adrenaline, quick, before his heart stops!"
g o t o t h e l i g h t
"You son of a bitch! You're not dying on us until you give us what we want!"
g o t o t h e l i g h t d a v i d
"The numbers, David! What do the numbers mean?!"
e m b r a c e t h e v o i d
"GET THE FUCKING ADRENALINE!"
t h e r e ' s n o c o m i n g b a c k
"It's here! I have it!"
n o c o m i n g b a c k
"We're not done yet, Kasimir!"
Open your eyes.

December 21st, 2021; 12:04 PM
Lazarus Pits, Base of the League of Assassins; Deep Within The Tibetan Mountains
"... Close call there. He's stabilizing now."

The boy rose from the pits, desperate for a breath. He felt around his body for wounds, finding nothing. He felt his head. Perfectly intact. He looked at his hands. Smooth, without a callous on them. The boy looked around, examining the pool of green liquid he was in. Judging by his surroundings, he was in a cave of some sort. "Where... Am I?"

He didn't know where he was. He didn't know who he was. He only knew that he felt an unconstrained feeling of rage, deep within him... Why? Why was he so angry? What was he angry at? He was so confused. He just wanted to go home. Wherever that was.

"David Kasimir!" He heard the voice of a man above him. He looked up, feeling a sense of familiarity with the name, and saw an older man with a goatee and greying hair, staring down at him with intense eyes from a platform overlooking the pit. "Do you seek vengeance against she who has wronged you?" he asked.

"W-what?" David stuttered, looking into the man's eyes. The man stared back.

It all came back to David.

He blinked.

"... Yeah. I really do."

8:53 PM; February 24th, 2026
David's Apartment; Gotham City, New Jersey
'Nightmares are getting more intense. Feels like I almost died... Again.'

David woke up with a start, scanning the room over for any threats and instinctively reaching for the pistol he kept hidden under the couch cushions. After a moment, he realized where he was, taking in a deep breath. He noticed Max sitting and staring at him a few feet away, looking almost worried. The dog walked over to him, putting a paw on his owner's stomach. "Hey, buddy... It's okay. I'm okay." David scratched the dog behind the ear, ducking his head and sighing.

After a moment, David muttered to himself, "I need a drink... A strong drink." He looked at Max, whose worried expression morphed into the trademark Kasimir brow. That firm, disapproving brow. David rolled his eyes. "Don't you fucking judge me, dog." David sat up, heading into his bedroom to get dressed, before stepping back out. He hadn't headed to Siobhan's bar yet, despite having been welcomed there after their meeting a few weeks back...

With a nod, he headed out the door, but not before filling Max's bowl. Let's just hope Siobhan wouldn't water down his drinks.

Ultimate One Universe: Season Two

I've been thinking about this for a while anyway, and it's best to say it instead of just ghosting the RP. Sorry to say, but I'm going to drop. I've just lost the spark that I had when I first came here and I just haven't been able to rekindle it, much as I've tried and wanted to. It's a dick move to drop when I'm in the middle of a crossover with someone, I know, but I just can't find it in me to keep going.

See you around, everyone.

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

10:00 PM; February 16th, 2026
Set of "Up Late With Adam Porter", Arch Light Studios; Metropolis, Delaware
'Everyone's eyes are on me. The Government's own superhero. Hopefully, I'll live up to their expectations.'

When Frederick steps out onto the stage after Adam Porter calls out his name, he's blinded by the stage lights and deafened by the cheering and applause. The Dilustel Shell's inner workings adjust his sight and hearing so that he can make out what's happening, and he sees a full house waiting for him. There are people snapping photos or taking videos all throughout the crowd. He waves and grins, stepping over to Adam's desk and taking a seat in the armchair next to it. He's not in the Shell's true form, instead using a small device disguised as a watch which allows him to take on his regular appearance.

"So, uh, Frederick is it? Or do you prefer Quantum?" Adam asks, the crowd chuckling.

"I don't really have a preference, Adam. Just go with whatever floats your boat."

"Think I'll stick with Fred... So, Fred, let's cut to the chase. You're the government's own bonafide superhero."

"Something like that."

"How'd you manage to get that job?"

"I won't bore you with details. I was in an accident where the majority of my body was destroyed. But my brain, heart, organs, the like, managed to be salvaged. The government managed to give me a new robotic body with abilities akin to that of a metahuman, and offered me the position of being their own hero who will potentially become a member of the Justice League as their government sponsor. I agreed."

"Just what are these abilities?"

"You were provided with a video demonstration, Adam. I think now would be the time to play it?"

"Of course." The talk show host signals to the crew. The lights dim and a large flat screen monitor lowers behind the two men. After a moment, a video starts to play, with Captain Quantum standing in a large open desert. Behind him are several tanks.

The Quantum in the video begins to speak. "Greetings, civilians. I'm Captain Quantum, and today I'll be demonstrating my abilities to you." He begins to fly up into the air slowly, the camera panning upward to catch his ascent. "Using anti-gravity technology built into my body, I'm able to fly." He flies around for a moment, before crashing down onto one of the tanks. Dust and debris flies everywhere, and when it clears he stands unscathed.

"And I'm quite strong. Strong enough to destroy this tank and remain unscathed. Even stronger still! My strength can be used to harm, as seen there..." He walks over to another tank, lifting it up with one hand and holding it over his head. "... Or to help! With my strength, I could hold up collapsing buildings to allow people to escape, or clear rubble with ease to help the people trapped underneath. You need to be able to help with the aftermath of a battle as much as the battle itself!"

He sets the tank down, then grins. "And I've got more tricks up my sleeves than that..." He begins to charge up a blast, putting on a look of concentration while doing so. After a moment, he opens his eyes, points a hand forward, and obliterates the tank he just lifted with a blast of pure quantum energy. There's nothing left of it, save mist. "Using a particle accelerator built into my suit, I'm able to fire pure blasts of quantum energy at will. Be they charged up blasts like that, or a flurry of them." To demonstrate once more he begins to fire off orb after orb of energy at the third and final tank, obliterating it in a matter of seconds.

To end the video, Quantum turns back towards the camera and puts on another grin. "I hope this video has proven to you my potential to be more than just a government shill trying to encroach on the Justice League's territory. I don't look to be a replacement to them, I look to be an ally to them, and a hero to all of you. Thank you for allowing me this demonstration. This is Captain Quantum, wishing you all a wonderful day."

The video ends, the audience giving a round of applause. "That was quite a demo there, eh Fred?"

"That it was Adam."

"That part at the end. As you said earlier, you're looking to join the Justice League?"

"My handlers are looking to get in contact with the Justice League, in order to put me on the team, yes."

"What would you bring to America's own super team, Fred?"

"I'd hope to bring a greater sense of diplomacy to the team, Adam. The Justice League are usually up in there Watchtower, watching on but forever silent. Every once in a while, there's an interview, but the people need confirmation that they're still there. I'd hope to be that voice shouting out to say that we are still there, protecting all of you." Frederick's statement gets some cheers and claps from the audience.

"Well said, Fred... One last thing. You look a bit different in that video, don't you?"

"Heh, yeah, yeah I do."

"Mind showing us your heroic appearance in the flesh?"

"Why the hell not." With those words, Frederick stands. He presses a button on his "watch", and slowly his flesh turns red, revealing the Dilustel Shell's true form for all to see. He raises his hands up wide as the audience cheers, and smiles to himself.

'Good job, Freddie.'

Heroes Reborn: Year Six (OPEN)

9:21 PM; January 9th, 2026
Alias' Warehouse; Hub City, Illinois

"I'm getting tired of asking, officer," Alias said in an almost sing-song tone as she again lowered the dirty cop into the oubliette, his arms the only thing visible as he dangled in the tiny room below the floor, too small to allow one to turn. "We're gonna leave you there until you decide that you're ready to speak," she said, moving away from the lever and limping towards Oscar.

"It's not torture, I'm not hurting him, so don't even say it," she said. "I just need a few more hours at most. You just need to wait a bit, Oscar."

Oscar quirked a brow under his mask at Shams. "I was just waiting for you to pull Bill out," he said, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. "Still. Not as, uh, bothered by the idea of torture as I was when we were partners. Sometimes it's the only way you can get information. So if we need to..."

Slowly, he tapped a foot on the oubliette's door. "This is a new addition. Guessing you put this in recently?"

Alias nodded. "I'm missing half an ear and I have a trench dug in my ribcage, Bill can wait until that's healed," she said, grabbing at her side immediately after mentioning it. "The oubliette is new, I dug it out myself. People would tip my chairs so I needed a way to keep them from getting anywhere. Next up is a water pump. That'll scare the shit out of people," she said, chuckling.

Alias hissed as she limped her way to a nearby table, resting herself on it and letting out a long breath. She looked at Question, her expression hidden in her mask. Her face lingered there for a long while before she exhaled with a "bah" noise and wandered over to a table covered with assorted tools.

"I'm depending on you, don't disappoint me like before," she said, pulling out a rag and thin brush to clean her pistol.

At that, Oscar scowled a bit. "Don't disappoint you, huh?" He walked over to the table, stopping just a few feet away from it. "Look, if you're talking about before... It was a transitional period. I'm better now. I'm being serious."

He could hardly remember those days if he had to be honest. Everything was a drug fueled haze as he slowly adjusted to the concoction, and to his new abilities. It wasn't easy, and by the time he had finally become something akin to the man he once was, she was already gone. It amazed him that she wasn't angry. Just "disappointed"... Knowing her, though, she was probably just using the word to mask how livid she was at him.

"I sure hope so," she muttered, holstering her gun and walking over to the oubliette lever. "No talking," she instructed Oscar as she lifted the hatch and pulled the man out of the pit, the loud noise of chain against chain echoing through the warehouse.

"You feeling talkative yet?"

"Yes! Yes! Just don't put me back in; the rats were biting at me and I couldn't do anything!"

Alias was amused. That was quick, maybe she needed to set up rat cages if they were so successful in getting information.

"Oh, well I'm glad, what do you have to say?

"He's... he's ready for you, he's planning to set up his partner, and he's using you as the gun. You and the Question. Then he's gonna kill you both in 'revenge'," the man confided with a weak voice.

"Hrm. No one ever said Fisher Brown was smart, I suppose." Oscar leaned down, his faceless visage just a few inches away from the officer's terrified face. "Anything else you want to tell us, or is that it? And for the record..." He pressed one of the buttons on his belt buckle, releasing a gas that appeared similar to the gas he so frequently used, though without any of the adhesive or hallucinogenic properties; this was merely a harmless vapor used for interrogation. "I know when you're lying."

"Yes, yes! That's everything I swear! I'm just a cop! He just wanted me to stay away! I'm not a part of it!"

"I don't think he's telling the truth Q, I think you should take a turn," she said almost giddily. This was one of the few times where she could calm down and just have some fun. Maybe she needed to calm down, but she could survive with just a few hours of leisure a week, and this served to get work done while also being fun, even if Oscar's presence made her mood a little... different.

Wordlessly, Oscar hauled the officer out of the oubliette by the collar. The vapor hung in the air, ominously, a few feet away from Oscar and the cop. "This gas is quite similar to the one that took my face. It will slowly melt your skin until it covers all your features. You'll be alive, however, very alive... You might think you're not able to breathe at first, but don't worry, you're still breathing. Your mouth is covered and all the noises you make will be muffled, but eventually you can speak again. You won't be able to see for a good, long time, but eventually you adjust to it. By that point, you've no hope of reversing the process. Your new face has settled."

Quickly, the Question brought the cop's face mere inches away from the gas. "Do you want to try it?"

"No please!" the cop screamed, pulling and kicking at the Question. His hands clawed at the masked man's wrists as he desperately tried to free himself. "They're waiting for you downtown, near the Colombo Building! Don't! I've told you everything! I swear! I swear to you!" the man wept, his voice cracking and going hoarse out of fear.

Alias was unsure. He seemed genuinely afraid, but afraid enough to tell the truth? Maybe, maybe not; she couldn't tell. She was impressed though, she didn't think Oscar had this in him. Usually he was rather flat-footed when it came to interrogation, perhaps he was dependent on her back then. Being alone had seemingly done him some good, and it made Alias wonder if he was thinking the same.

The fact that the cop was pissing himself right in front of her was all she needed to see to feel a little bit impressed with Oscar's progress. Maybe he was telling the truth. Of course she wouldn't bet on it.

"Alright, I think he's telling the truth, you can let him go, Q."

Question pulled the man away from the gas, dropping him to the floor. "There we go. Now we know you're not lying." He crouched down, looking down at the officer on the floor and noting the large wet spot on his pants. "Only a fool would keep secrets on the verge of disfiguration. Put a man in danger, you find out who he really is. And you? You're a low level thug who knows nothing." He grabbed the man and pulled him up, then stuck him into the gas.

"But you were never in any danger. As superstitous as you are cowardly. Taking everything you're told at face value. I'm sure your employer told you that you were going to make it with this, right? That this was going to be what put you in the big leagues. No more arresting small time rivals or getting rid of evidence, this'd make you the big dog, you were gonna be the next commissioner or hell, even the chief! ... But you were never going to be."

Question dropped the man again. "Take this word of advice: don't work for a crook in our city again. Be an honest cop. If I find out you're under another crook's payroll after this, then next time... Next time I might really take your face." With his little spiel done, Question kicked the cop in the head, knocking him out. He released a sigh...

Oscar turned back to Alias. "Did I do better than you expected?"

Alias let out a "hmmph", and said "I guess you have changed at least a bit. You got it done in half the time it would have taken me, so I suppose I have to be impressed.

"But," she interjected. "That's only half the job done, let's get moving, the day's nearly done."

She began limping towards the unconscious police officer, groaning loudly as she tossed him over her shoulder. Then she began to limp away, gesturing for Oscar to follow her.