Indy Cooper

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{Banner credit to Nitemare Shape. Thanks Boss!}

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Lost Haven
12:12 pm

Broadway threw off a sloppy salute and aimed one finger past the newcomers shoulder, sending out a blindingly white beam that exploded much as before past the end of the alley. Grinning, she said, "Name's Broadway. That's Jones, Hickock, and Avery. We're part of what was supposed to be a trap for the Hounds, but I think both sides underestimated what the other'd bring to the table. What about you, hot stuff? What do we call our timely cavalryman?"

---

Darya swore as the strange gunman ran off, but she could do nothing to help those who weren't accepting. She began freezing over the whole of the wall she had built, even as rounds ripped through it, until it was thick enough to stop most of them. Most of the squad in the square moved up and took firing positions at it and next to her behind the fountain. Meanwhile, she had found her source of water in the storm drains and sewers. I think it only fair I douse them in the same filth they spew out of their mouths, she thought to herself as she worked her powers along the tubes of concrete and steel beneath them.

Faulkner came over the radio. "Dragon, take care of those vans, but try not to kill. We need them alive and arrested if at all possible. Tiamat, Hold the square and try to push forward. Local reinforcements have begin arriving, at least one meta and PD are inbound. Area's cordoned off now, they're draining what they can of civvies."

"Oh, good," said Rollins, leaning her back against the fountain next to Darya. She gave the younger girl a smile through her balaclava before glancing over edge of the structure and firing off a tight three round burst. "Because the one thing I was worried about with all the bullets flying was these guys' welfare." Darya realised that comment was for her benefit alone as Rollins clicked her radio back on and said over comms, "Don't worry about us, fearless leader. Just try to keep them from slipping out like the rats they are."

Darya stared at the woman. Her heart was racing, her pulse hammering in her ears. The staccato of gunfire, even if it was dying off now, was wearing her nerves raw. Another round pinged off of the fountain near her and she threw herself flat, whimpering a little. Rollins grabbed her shoulder and shook her.

"Hey!" the big woman shouted nearly in her ear. "Are you hit?"

She shook her head negative. She knew she was edging closer and closer into panic, and at this point, she couldn't even trust herself to open her mouth in response without screaming.

"Awww, sheeyit," Rollins said, then her voice went back up on comms. "Tiamat's broken, Faulkner. I dunno how much of her barricades will hold up with her panicking, and we're a little busy to move her right now."

"Alright, sending out the doc," came the response.

Within a few moments, Darya's hyped up hearing picked up a different gun firing. It sounded bigger than the assault rifles, and far slower, almost like the snipers, though not as menacing. Cowboy boots slid in front of her vision and a strong calloused hand gripped her under the arm and hauled her into a sitting position, where she could see Doc Holliday's visage filling her vision.

"Darlin', I know you ain't been in a fight like this before, but I need you to keep it together, okay? Plen'y a; folks can't handle this, but there are people here that need you right now, y'hear?"

Darya stared at him, even as he removed her goggles and checked her eyes.

"I know it's scary, but c'mon. We took out that big mech suit guy back in November, remember? And just last month there was that crazy one who could turn into the giant rattler? You handled both of those, you can handle this, right?"

Another bullet spanged off of the metal next to them, causing Darya to flinch. Holliday, however, spat a curse and swung his free hand up and over her shoulder, levelling his Winchester Repeater on the fountain edge. The gun went off like a firework right next to her ear, and the sensation caused her powers to snap back into focus. The cover wall was beginning to melt, though as soon as she noticed, it shored up. A huge puddle was forming around them as, in her panic, she had begun to draw all the water she had held off on before around her. And on the edges of her perception, the storm drains and sewage had stopped moving, and were building up tons of pressure.

She nodded once at Holliday, who winked at her before firing again, and then stood up. The man's face fell, and Rollins grabbed for her to haul her back down, but the water from the fountain had already risen up the shield her. Several rounds slapped through it, sent spinning off course and slowed considerably by the sheer force of pressure that she was moving through the sphere she formed. It was impossible to see through, the fluid moving so fast around the periphery that it was beginning to froth, but she kept it up as she hopped down into the fountain pool and drew up as much as she could. The pipes burst as hundreds of gallons poured through them, and still kept moving, tearing up dirt and concrete as it did so. The reservoirs, pipes, toilets, and everything else in the neighbouring buildings was suddenly drained out of them, until Darya had finished building what looked like a titanic dragon's head and neck, made of water and debris trapped within. She stood at the base of it and began walking forward, not bothering to scream out challenges because at this point, no one would be able to hear her anyway.

Rectifier

@Xanadu and everyone else, for your perusal:

Shen Mei Yun

_{申 美 昀 (M ě i Y ú n S h ē n )
⟁ 22 ⟁ Female ⟁ 157 cm/ 5'1" ⟁ Blood Type: B-}

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

---

Mei Yun is of a normal, average height, weight, and build for a resident of the GFEZ. Also average: her face, eye colour (black), hair (straight, brownish-black), and skin tone. She has made up for this lack of distinction in her personality, which directly translates to her hair and eye augmentation detailed later. She also tends to wear an odd assortment of colourful clothing, much like a colourblind magpie. Bright neons, pastels, and primaries, in an assortment of scarves, flowing sleeves, and light gossamer clothing, though when she's working or trying to hide she'll switch to optic-mimicry textiles and dark coats. She also has a tendency to wear overly large combat boots at all times, with no laces. ("They're better for stomping puddles!") Typical adornments include LED jewelry, bright plastic bangles, and blacklight reactive face paint. (More details on her jewelry can be found in the equipment entry)

_{B A C K G R O U N D}

---

The Shen family did not celebrate having a girl very much. A simple little party, and then it was back to work. They were just prosperous to afford a nanny, so little Mei Yun was brought up, along with her three older siblings, under the care of a kindly if inefficient older woman who was told in uncomplicated terms that the two older boys were of far more importance than the two girls. This environment led to Mei Yun and her sister fending for themselves by the time they could walk and talk. As soon as Mei Yun could attend daycare, the nanny's contract was terminated, and life began in earnest.

The Shen's both worked corporate jobs, in a corporate high rise, and most of their lives were taken up by work, leaving little time to socialise with their children. Priority was given to the boys, as carriers of the family name in a clan of traditionalists, and the girls were essentially written off as either future corporate drones or wives of executives if they could manage to land the contract. Mei Yun's sister took to this well, but by the time she hit grade six Mei Yun was tired of being background noise to everyone who knew her.

Knowing that poor grades would lead to doom in Hong Kong, and high grades were almost worse, given the choices of careers, she decided to ride the middle ground, putting just enough work into her school so as to stay perfectly average. In this way she could remain undisturbed while she explored the thing that fascinated her the most: The Net. Through the high rise's internal network, she discovered the troublemakers who populated the lower levels, using their corporate jobs to cover their more illicit (and therefore fun) lifestyles. She gravitated to them immediately, showing no shame at all in trying to get their attention though posts on the Net and graffiti in surprising places. By now she had learned that when she was invisible to society, she could pass almost without trace into places others might be caught in, though she caused her parents no small amount of discomfort when security brought her in for being found yet again in clearance only sections of the building.

Her boundless curiosity and inclusion as a sort of cute mascot for the hackers inside the building led her to learn as much as she could about the place and the Net at the same time. Soon she was learning how to hardline jack, installing taps for her friends in hard to reach places by squeezing through ductwork and maintenance shafts. In payment, they taught her their craft. By grade ten she was already a sort of prodigy, moving from mascot to member in a smooth transition. That year, however, an accident in one of the maintenance shafts of the building removed two fingers of her left hand, necessitating her parents paying for replacements and a full year of being locked in the family home. After that, she vowed she would make her own money, and delved into the world of the Net with renewed fervor.

Several jobs later, she officially dropped out of high school and became a full-time student of the hackers. This new schedule gave her far more time to study the ins and outs of computers, and she learned not only programming, but how to build and mod her own computers and devices. After her seventeenth birthday, she began to go on 'jobs' with her crew, who she later found were at least half Triad members. It was during one failed job that they found that, no matter how much she might be urged, she would never be a combatant, but at the very least she could reduce risk to the rest of her team.

Having made enough money from this work to afford to move out, she did so immediately upon becoming an adult, listing herself as a programmer-for-hire and systems security consultant. This work alone consumed much of her time, but she made a decent name for herself in legitimate circles as well, specialising in physical security set-ups and general use programs as well as specialty software, though she made sure to never design any software for security, in case she was responsible for one of her friends getting caught. She herself has had to, in several instances, brutally erase records of her own activities from official records, though none of these investigations had ever found out her true identity, only one of her various handles. She might suspect that some corporation or another might be keeping closer (and more secure) tabs on her, but she neither knows for sure nor really cares. As it is, she has fun and keeps herself fed, and until that changes, she'll take whatever jobs might interest her.

In her criminal enterprises, she has developed a name for herself as 咆哮的老鼠, the Roaring Mouse, with a reputation for daring and flamboyant hacking and leaving calling cards stating exactly what she took and how she did it (though never a complete retelling, she's not stupid), laughing in the faces of authority. On the physical side, she has been the infiltrator for several high profile burglaries, though none on her own. The Triad love her, though she's too flashy to go unnoticed by the police and thus they won't fully take her in. Corporations hate being hit by her, but she's done two jobs now where one corporation paid her large sums of money to blacken the eye of a competitor. She's been careful to always backtrace and erase herself from their records afterwards. It wouldn't do to have them know how to get in contact with her any more than she would like, and traces can be run with minimal amounts of information.

At twenty-two, Mei Yun is an up-and-coming star in the hacker circles of Hong Kong. Though she still has lots to learn, she is arrogant in her online persona, and refuses most help. She has made plenty of enemies, and has had to, at several points this last year, fend off attacks from those who would like to take her down a peg or six. Between that and the corporations, she is beginning to feel the pressure, and time has yet to tell whether she will stay bright or wither and retire like so many aspiring 'rockstars' before her.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

---

Mei Yun likes flash, colour, and attention-grabbing things in all forms. This is due to her bland and boring upbringing, leaving an indelible desire to be noticed amongst her siblings, her schoolmates, and society at large. She is loud, vivacious, and always going at full tilt. Even her sleeping style is flamboyant, muttering to herself about program diagnostics and calculations while tossing and turning constantly. To the wrong sort of people (read: most of them), she can be very annoying, especially when they learn she is an adult and not, as most assume, a fourteen year old.

Despite her flaws, she likes people, and tends to pick one person out of any group to 'attach' to, much to their normal chagrin. Aside from that person, she teases in good nature, and, especially if they don't speak her language, cracks jokes at people's expense in a light-hearted sort of way. She speaks rapid-fire, but likes poetic wordings, and tends to break into flowery speech, more so than normal if she's describing computer systems.

Deep down, Mei Yun wants to be liked and loved. She wants her ideal of a family, and if she can't get it from her flesh and blood one, she'll make her own. This also manifests itself in a depressive state if she goes too long without company, or if she's made someone angry at her, and she will overcompensate quite a bit to try and make things right. And she's also very fussy about her systems, refusing help or advise unless she respects the one giving it as a fellow "jīngyīng hēikè".
In combat, she is a coward, and fights like one. She will run away if threatened in close range, and spray rounds wildly from an automatic rather than try and aim at all, if she even remembers to fire. Mostly she hides until the hubbub dies down, or flee completely. She won't run if someone she has 'adopted' is in danger, unless they specifically tell her to.

_{S K I L L S}

---

• Master Hacker: Mei Yun can break into routine systems with a minimum effort. Only government and high-level corporate systems give her real pause, and she enjoys the challenge, and relishes defeat, as it means she still has room to improve.
• Expert Programmer: This is almost a subset of her hacking, but most of Mei Yun's actual money comes from custom built programs for various things and of various complexity. She'll even write for corporations if the pay is good enough, though she is careful to not leave any indication of her more illicit background.
• Expert Lockpick and B&E: Mei Yun shows a proclivity and expertise as a cat burglar. She can pick manual locks, disarm security systems, and slip past security obstacles relatively quickly. She doesn't enjoy doing this as much, as if she is caught and forced to fight she knows she is doomed.
• Engineering: Mei Yun has developed a knack for building custom computer and electronic devices, and can generally figure out how to bypass, assemble, or take apart delicate electrical equipment and chip. This obviously is harder on the job than in a shop, but she travels with some basic tools.
• Security: On the flip side, she is good at setting up jury-rigged and professional security systems, knowing how she would break into a place and planning around that. She has done several system breaking security checks for private entities before, much like a professional safe cracker.
• Fast-talk: While not adept at this as a "face" might be, she can talk her way out of trouble more often than not.
• Poor Fortitude: She doesn't really take care of her body, eating whatever junk keeps her body going and not getting a whole lot of exercise outside of occasional B&E jobs. One could say malnourished and be close to the mark, though she's not quite sickly yet.
• Abysmal Combat: Do not rely on Mei Yun in any sort of fight. The best she can manage is to kick someone in the groin and run away.

_{E Q U I P M E N T}

---

• Earrings: These are not only questionably fashionable, but also utilitarian! Her typical set up contains a signal cloaker and detection jamming hardware on the left, and a remote IF and wireless accessor subroutine to tap into any open devices or networks near her on the right.
• Bracelets: The set of three on her left wrist contain various levels of 'pricks'. These are tiny hardware devices she can slide into exposed cables to tap into them, giving her a display of the layout of whatever hard network they may be tied into, including power. The silver on on her right wrist is actually just jewelry.
• Necklace: A tightband emergency beacon is disguised as a large opal on a silver chain. The flashier set of beads contains a 'server' for close range, secure radio and VOIP transmissions, in case her team doesn't have any secure lines set up yet.
• Goggles: These interact with her eye augments and also contain a three-dee holoprojector, allowing her to display what she's is seeing to anyone near her in case they don't have the same augments she does.
• Laptop: For times when she doesn't want to risk exposure to possible feedback through her neural adapter, Mei Yun carries a Cao Foo Lung Industries Model IX mobile platform. She has heavily modified this system, making it virtually untraceable among other upgrades. It sports a hellishly fast 9.2 GHz quad-processor and an ultra-silent cooling system, making it fantastic for on the fly work in questionably safe areas.
• Weapon: Knowing that she might get into a gunfight whether she likes it or not, and knowing that she has no skill at all to help her hit anything, Mei Yun carries a Fei Wen 'Bloody Tiger' submachinegun. Made of lightweight carbon steel and fiberglass parts, it has a collapsible stock, bullpup design, and a slender build. It's chambered for 9mm, and she carries two spare clips just in case. I's also not very well kept, needing at the very least a good cleaning, which she doesn't know how to do.

_{A U G M E N T A T I O N S}

---

• Neural adapter: This is a top of the line uplink to the net. Not only does it let her access the Net the fun way, but it has several built-in security subroutines constantly masking her location, identity, and activity in cycles, so that she appears more as a flickering assortment of random people than anything else to anyone trying to find her.
• Left hand, pinky and ring fingers: These are replaced due to a childhood accident she doesn't like to talk about. The pinky finger has a police-style 'autopick' for when she needs to get through a manual lock in a hurry.
• Hair implants: Alongside every hair on Mei Yun's head is an accompanying colour-changing filament. This is programmable, meaning she can change her hair colour to anything from natural hues to active camo, but she usually leaves it on the 'mood ring' setting, meaning that it fluctuates colours as her emotions change.
• Eyes: Her natural eyes have been implanted with a side-riding set of cameras, which have x-ray, overlay, telescopic, infrared, UV, spectroscopic, and light-amplification modes. She doesn't often turn these on, even though they make her eyes shine bright cyan, because they give her headaches if they're on for more than an hour. If hit with an EMP or otherwise electronically disabled, her biological eyes function normally, though the installation left her with major astigmatism.
• Enhanced Flexibility: To aid in her burglary work, Mei Yun has had extensive work on all of her joints, increasing stretch and tension tolerances in pretty much every part of her body, spine and ribs included. While on a more physical person this might translate to increased combat abilities, on Mei Yun this means she can fit into spaces that would normally be impossible, and also allow her to hide in surprising place no one might think to look.

Not quite done. Need more background, but I figured I'd put her up for now until I can get back to it so people know what I am up to.

EDIT: Added a more full background, removed an augment, general spellchecking.

Rectifier

I would also support a Discord, by the way. It makes for a less messy OOC tab, most of the time, I find. Coming from the pre-Discord days, it is a nice change to have a chat program for the chit-chat stuff that isn't necessarily important enough to warrant a post.

Rectifier

Ohhhh shi-

I am super interested in this, but I'm not entirely certain about a concept yet. Or how well I'll fit in. All that new group jazz, plus I missed the interest check. But cyberpunk is definitely one of my faves. And with all the gun-toting badasses running around here, I am thinking of making a Hong Kong local specializing in hit-and-run hacking jobs and stealthy infiltration, with very little combat ability to speak of.

Because I am a dork.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{Banner credit to Nitemare Shape. Thanks Boss!}

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The stuffy little room felt exactly like an elementary school class room in a district where money was tight. The overly cheery posters, the stiff chairs that were clearly uncomfortable to everyone else. A lone fan, rattling with age, stirred the hot air, and dust motes swirled in the morning sun streaming through the window to illuminate the group of metas who had apparently volunteered to live here. The scent of cheap coffee hung in the air, since it had been made available to anyone who wanted it. Nicky had some in a tiny plastic cup, more out of something to do with her hands and mouth than for any sort of effect the beverage might have had.

The group that had assembled was, for lack of any sort of unifying word, strange. The girl who had told her off last night, Rose, sat primly, hands neatly folded and hair carelessly over one shoulder, looking like a princess without even trying. Nicky still didn't know if she should hate the girl or not after last night. Next to her was another girl, but this one, was the opposite of Rose in almost every way. Where Rose had muscle and tone from what Nicky knew was years of athletics practise, this girl was wasted and almost skeletal. Her hair was completely gone, growing only in stubble. A huge swathe of surgical stitches covered on temple and arched around the back of her head, and her eyes were only half open at best, though she was definitely awake. Rose had pushed her wheelchair in and then sat down next to her as if they were the best of friends, though they never exchanged a word.

Across from Nicole, next to the wheelchair, was a statue. That was the only word Nicky could find to describe the man. Facial features were hard to make out, but she guessed he was around the same age her dad had been. But where her dad had been tanned from days out in the sun, this man was, somehow, pale grey, patterned in swirls of darker lines. He had introduced himself as Marble, and she had to admit, the name fit. Aside from just looking (and sounding she had noted. He made grinding noises) like he was made from his namesake, he was built like a boxer. His thin t-shirt and jeans did nothing to hide that.

Between him and the next person was what Nicky had assumed was the chair reserved for Crawford, and then there was Freddy. Nicky was a little grossed out by Freddy, and she doubted her inexperience in schooling her face was doing anything to cover it. Freddy was enormous He took up two chairs. Rolls of fat covered everything, so much so that she couldn't see his knees. His short black hair and dense beard were neatly kept, and his eyes were kind, even when he looked her way. A little sad, perhaps. But Nicky was horrified by the jiggling, which happened every time he moved. She felt a little guilty, mostly because she assumed his powers had somehow caused or affected his weight, but she couldn't help herself.

Two other chairs were present. Another empty on the other side of Freddy, and then the one next to her, which contained a tiny Japanese girl, wearing a gold kimono patterned with autumn leaves. Even including Freddy, this girl had the most shocking appearance, as she had fox ears instead of normal human ones, and a bundle of fox tails erupted from her rear. They writhed around in response to what seemed to be the girls mood, and they currently lashed in what Nicky could only guess was nervousness or excitement, if her experience with dogs was any indication. Her stark black hair was done into a series of elaborate knots that only emphasised her strange ears, as well, as if she wanted to draw attention to them.

Megami, as she had introduced herself, was weird enough that Nicky edged in her seat towards the gap in chairs that separated herself and Rose. She wasn't exactly certain, but she suspected the gap was there because of the toss up last night. Someone had been watching. That put her on edge and irritated her. Logically, they had to have cameras to record stuff to study, but the fact that they didn't tell her she was being recorded pissed her off.

Crawford walked in just as her mood was beginning to sour, wearing a green sweater vest over a cream coloured shirt and tan trousers, despite the heat. Apparently he was here in his “teacher” role instead of his scientist one. He paused as he looked around, then said, “Good morning, everyone. Charles, are you present?”

Nicky jumped when a voice echoed, as if from great distance, from the empty seat between Freddy and Marble. “Yes, Mr. Crawford, I am here.”

“Excellent! Well,” the older man said, taking what was apparently the only open seat. “Let's begin, shall we? First off, we have a new member of the group, who I presume Rose has introduced?”

“Oh, no, Professor,” the girl said. “That would've been rude. I let everyone introduce themselves, as Nicole and myself have already had a spat.”

“I see.” Crawford fixed the pair of them with a rather disappointed look. I was hoping you two would be getting along, actually. You have rather complimentary powers.”

Nicky was about to snap out an answer when Rose cut her off. “Unfortunately, we both had some illusions about the other, but I think we've moved past it, haven't we?” She smiled sweetly at Nicky, but the younger girl got the warning that broaching the subject in group would not be tolerated. It was helped by and invisible nudge against her shoulder, just barely enough to move her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, sullenly nodding. “We're good.” mentally, she added, For now.

“Alright, well, Since that seems to be working out, let's see if we can get up to speed on poer studies. Ah, sorry, Frederick.” Crawford looks at the fat man, whose round face filled with a smile.

“S'okay, Teach, it's funny.” Fred's voice was as thick as his body.

“Well, let's start with you, then, Frederick. Any increases or fluctuations?”

The man shook his head, chins wobbling. Nope. Still stuck at three hundred a second. I don't think I can break the sound barrier unless I drop some weight.” Nicky finally placed his accent as Georgian before her brain caught up to what he had sad. She knew her eyes goggled, but she didn't care. Holy shit, he's a speedster!?

“Well,” Crawford said, writing something down on his clipboard. He always seemed to have one of the damn things. “With the diet Doctor Grisham has set, we should see some changes soon, but I'd also like you to try lifting weights and some aerobics aside from running, which obviously isn't much exercise for you here even with your special treadmill. Any feelings you'd like to share with the group about your powers?”

“Same thing as always, Teach. Disappointed I can't move faster.”

“Hmmm.” Crawford made another note, and then turned to face the empty chair. “Charles? Any luck with your project?”

The boy with the ghost voice (Nicky assumed it was a boy, judging by the youthful tone) spoke up. “Yeah, actually! I could show you!”

Nicky wondered how an invisible person was going to “show” anything, but was shocked into silence again when the boy flickered into existence. His image wasn't steady, was mostly transparent, and had no colour, but even through all of that, two things were painfully obvious. One, he couldn't be any older than her, and maybe even younger with how skinny he was, and two, he was completely nude. Crawford made a harrumphing noise as the boy disappeared again.

“I would appreciate it if you would start wearing clothing, Charles. But the progress is good. Is that as long as you can hold it?”

“Yes, professor,” came the echoey reply. “Any longer and my skin starts to burn, which is also why I don't wear clothes.”

“Have you talked to the doctor about that?”

“Well...uhh...”

Crawford made another note. “Why not, Charles?”

“Well....she's a girl, Professor.”

Nicky could almost hear the embarrassment in Charles's voice. Crawford had to hide a smile. “Well, she is also a professional, Charles. I don't think you have anything to be particularly ashamed of. Make sure you bring up your skin, we might have something that can help. I am sure we'd all like to see more of you around here.”

The group laughed, and then Crawford looked to Marble. “Any changes, Harry?”

“No.” His voice was beyond gravelly. Nicky thought of boulders knocking together.

“Hmm. Well, you and Nicole have something in common, perhaps you two can talk later.”

“Okay.” Nicky doubted they were going to talk much at all with his repsonses, but she looked at Crawford questioningly.

He caught the look and made a little 'o' with his mouth. “Of course, Nicole, terribly sorry. Harry has the same sensation loss you do, though he also lost his sense of smell. Perhaps the two of you could brainstorm about how to overcome the problem.” Turning from her, he looked at the wheelchair bound girl, who Nicky realised she had never gotten a name for.

“Rose, how are you feeling today?”

Nicky's whole world dropped away in shock for a moment as she looked from the girl in the wheelchair to the one next to her. The healthy Rose gave her a wink before addressing the question.

“The pain's okay, I guess. Could be better or worse. Still don't have any mobility right now, and I would kill for the ability to eat even a piece of bread. But clarity is at one hundred, and I still haven't found a limit to how long I can stay out.”

Crawford made yet another note. Nicky was beginning to hate that clipboard. “Good, good. I would like to see you in more than out, of course, but I like that you are staying so positive, Rose.”

The healthy Rose shrugged, and both bodies smiled, though the wheelchair version was delayed and weak. “Well, it can only get better from here, right?”

All eyes were suddenly on her, and she felt her face flame with embarrassment. She hadn't been the center of attention like this since before the explosion, and-

Screams sounded in her ears. The rush of gas from a broken line. The taste of ashes in her mouth. Burning plastic and meat mixed in the air, a horrible smell. She couldn't see because the bricks were all over her face.

Breathing hard, she caught herself before she fell out of her chair, but it was a near thing. The empty cup rolled away from her as her vision came back to reality. Slowly, words came back into her hearing.

-kay? Nicole, can you hear me? You're okay, you're safe.” Crawford's voice. Hands on her own, she could see them. Older, definitely Crawford. She looked up and saw Rose and Megami flanking him as he crouched in front of her, all three with worried expressions. She shook her head, trying to clear away the cobwebs of illusion from her head.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. I...I got lost.”

Crawford nodded, slowly letting go and standing up. He motioned to the two girls and all of them returned to their seats before he addressed the group.

“As you can see, not everyone has as happy a story, something I have been telling you about for a while now. Please let Nicole adjust at her own pace, and do not ask prying questions. I will only tell you that she is just as special as the rest of you, in her own way.” Turning to her, Crawford asked, “Are you okay to answer a few general questions about how you're doing in front of the group?”

Just at that moment, Nicky actually felt like the man could have asked her to jump off a building and she would've done it. He had cut off her fear of being cornered and pestered thoroughly. She mutely nodded, biting at her lip.

“Okay. Any change in your hunger? Or sleep?”

She shook her head. “No. Still not hungry. And I'm still never tired. I don't even remember what dreams are like any more.”

Crawford nodded. “I expected as much. Unfortunately, it may be best, at present, that you don't sleep. As much as subconscious healing might be good for you, it could also be overwhelming. I'll talk to you more about a plan later, one on one.” Finally, he turned to Megami.

“Is there anything you'd like to add, Megami-sama?”

The girl said something in rapid fire Japanese, and Crawford nodded. “I thought so. I will ask for your help later, if that is agreeable?”

“Hai.”

“Very good. Okay, I think some of us are probably done for this morning. If anyone wants to ask me something right now, please do, otherwise we'll convene this afternoon for the best part of Tuesdays: The Showoffs!”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{Banner credit to Nitemare Shape. Thanks Boss!}
@Athinar

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Lost Haven
12:02 pm

Lieutenant Jones was not having a good day. This was largely in part to his being behind a stone pillar near the square that was being chewed up by bullets from government stooges protecting a couple of monsters. Like he had always known, the government was obviously behind this wave of freaks taking over the world, and here, in this time and this place, it was his job to stop it.

One of his men stumbled into cover near him and looked at him expectantly, helemt askew until he awkwardly adjusted it. "There's a lot more of 'em than we thought, Lieutenant! What are your orders?"

Jones grinned at the boy (he must have only been nineteen) and growled, "Let's show them what we've got."

---

Faulkner was swiftly getting order on comms, it seemed to Darya, as she listened for orders relating to her. Water and ice covered the whole fountain, and she was busy getting a wall up across the square to provide more cover to civilians and her team at the same time. Unfortunately, the pipes for the fountain were limiting her gains, only able to push out so much without rupturing, so it was slow going, and she was pushing her senses out to find more somewhere. They were too far away from the ocean for her to reach, but perhaps the river was close enough.

She was distracted from this task by two things at once. First, as more of her human teammates pushed forward, she was building cover for them with blocks of ice, draining her reserves, but the advance was stalling out before they got to the line she was attempting to draw with her powers. Being so defensive, she was relying on the others to take up the attack, and whatever tech Dragon was using was starting to have lower effect as their enemies moved out of his line of fire. She saw him load another round of whatever it was into one of the two tube launchers he was using, but he was forced to duck down before he could get a shot off as a flurry of bullets chipped away the stone of the roof edge he was using for cover.

Second, a new person had cut into the fray. He seemed brutally effective, and, perhaps more importantly, on their side, even though she didn't recognize him at all. Several Hounds went down with bullets in their brain, but the man had become pinned behind the pitiful cover of a simple newsstand. She knew she needed to act, and the rest of her own side seemed oblivious to his plight. Quickly, she called over the radio.

”Broadway! Suppressing fire! I need them blind for a minute!”

A strained but cheerful voice answered her. “Got a little busy on this side, but I can spare a couple shots!”

Darya glanced over to the entrance of the side alley where Broadway and three agents had been and saw that, indeed, things had gotten hot in there. Apparently the Hounds had thought to encircle her, but didn't expect as complete a trap as they had laid. Muzzle flashes and the brighter flashes of light that signaled Broadway's presence were lighting up the alley entrance. As she looked, Broadway's ginger hair, now glowing from her power usage, poked around the corner. A glittering glove appeared, and three quick lasers fired out and up into the street where the main force of Hounds was gathered. Darya knew better than to watch, even before Broadway called over comms, “Watch your eyes, boys and girls!”

The lasers detonated over the street, like gigantic flashbombs, and weaker lasers sprayed out in every direction. These weren't even enough to burn, but anyone caught in the face with them might well be permanently blinded. As soon as they went of, Darya sent a rushing cascade, most of her reserves, across the square. It formed a wall of water and ice nearly hip height from the edge of the steel fountain all the way to the beleaguered man behind the news stand. She began waving to get his attention and get him to make the run over to her far more solid cover while the Hounds struggled to recover their eyesight. Curses over her radio told her not everyone had taken Broadway's warning seriously enough, and it seemed they had only bought a slight lull in the fight rather than a victory.

---

Jones cursed vehemently while he tried to blink the after effects of the flashes out of his vision, seeing only shadows of his surroundings through purple and green splotches. He leaned around the pillar and fired a short burst blindly into the square, hoping for some luck, but was not rewarded with any screams.

“Teams Two and Three, report,” he urged. The responses were not as he had hoped.

“Team Two, we've got that laser bitch blocking up the alley with a couple of stooges. We need grenades or something, they're bunkered too well here! Too many dumpsters for cover!”

“Sergeant Yates for Team Three! I don't know what the fuck is happening! We're in the woods or some shit! Some sort of illusion, but nothing we've got is breaking it!”

Jones spat some more curses, rubbing at his eyes. “HQ,” he said dejectedly. “Status update. We need back up. At least four metas, including illusions and fire. Could use something heavy.”

“Roger that, Lieutenant. Any sign of the primary target?”

“Negative, HQ. He hasn't shown up yet. Thought the bar was supposed to knock him loose?”

“They fucked up, Jones. Get the gun ready, just in case.”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{Banner credit to Nitemare Shape. Thanks Boss!}

---

11:15 am
Lost Haven

Darya sat on a bench in the center of a small square somewhere in the northern area of Lost Haven, elbows on her knees and chin in her hands. If it weren't for the fact that she was in her full costume, with added bits of body armour lent from the local police armoury, she would have looked like any bored or dejected teen. As it was, she struck on odd sight, and no one was willing to come within fifteen feet of her. She guessed that only a little part of that was due to her unusual appearance, and quite a bit more was from the attention of certain groups it would undoubtedly draw were she to stay here long enough. Which, unfortunately, was the whole plan.

She sighed, glancing up through the ballistic lenses that covered her eyes at the roof corner where she knew Dragon was. As it turned out, he was some sort of ranged combatant with fire powers, and was providing a third of her cover from up high. Two snipers were behind her, sweeping the sparse crowd for threats while they waited for their targets to take the bait. Naia and Broadway were also here, at the edges of the square in shadowed alleys, waiting for a chance to strike. Two armoured SWAT vans were also lying in wait, with Holliday on hand for emergency backup and medical aid, along with ten FBI and SWAT volunteers. More of those were hanging out in shops or benches around the square. Even with all of the backup, Darya felt alone and exposed, and apparently it showed somehow in her posture, because the little earbud crackled and Rollins' expressive voice came over the comms.

"You looks bored, Tiamat. Wanna hear a joke?"

Another voice cut in, Faulkner, the team lead in LH. "Can it Rollins. She'll be fine."

Darya was not entirely certain she liked Faulkner. His brusque attitude was fitting for a leader, but he had a dampening effect on morale. Several of the others tred to make small talk with him only to find out later that they had received unofficial reprimands, and the whole unit was starting to sour after only a few days. That wasn't helped by their lack of any sort of success in either side of their operation in the city. Broadway and her had had no luck gaining the attention of even minor local metas, excpeting a pair who had backed out and ran as soon as they heard what the mission was. And no surveillance on likely locations had turned up a single Hound or any sort of evidence of their activities. Thus, today found Darya sitting outside in the hot summer sun, on a very uncomfortable wood and iron bench that had certainly seen better days, waiting to be attacked.

A pigeon landed near her and made noises at her, fixing one beady eye to her left side, where next to her a small paper bag sat. In this was her "lunch": a 9mm handgun and two compact flashbang grenades, to use in case they had some way of thwarting her powers. The bird obviously thought she had a real lunch, and burbled at her again. Darya's boredom got the best of her, and she leaned back, stretching her arms out lazily to rest along the iron bak of her seat. Several people twitched nervously around her, but otherwise no one noticed. Which changed rather quickly when, from the fountain behind her, the centerpiece of the square, a jet of water shot and splattered the ground directly next to the pigeon. The bird took off making angry cooing noises at her, and she stuck her tongue out at it before realising the cloth of her mask blocked it. The bitter taste of dry fabric clung to her mouth and she felt reprimanded in full by karma for her actions.

Apparently others had taken notice. She heard several people on the radio chuckle, and Faulkner sigh, but that was not what caught her attention. Two men, on the edge of the square, were now staring directly at her. She hadn't noticed them before, but they were rather well built, and in very utilitarian clothes. One pulled out a phone and began talking into it, not removing his eyes from where Darya sat.

"Roof team, Dragon. I think they've noticed," she said quietly.

A few seconds later, one of the snipers reported them to Faulkner, and suddenly the air was tense. The two men stood up as the phone conversation was finished, and then they very purposefully made their way out of the square and onto the surface streets nearby.

"Look alive, people," Faulkner said. His voice was steady. "Looks like we've finally got a bite."

Broadway cut in. "They actually fell for this? She's been sitting out there for an hour and a half. It's not like we go meet for lunch in full costume."

"I don't know, but they definitely are up to something. Stay sharp people."

Having successfully stired a hornet's nest, Darya decided to keep at it, and began to play with the fountain. She contented herself with drawing the water out into long, lazy circles, hovering a few inches over the pavement. She divided them, sending little serpents of water to snap playfully at the heels of civilians passing through the square. This had the added benefit of lowering chances of civilian casualties. No one wanted to be near crazy powers right now. Within a few minutes, most of the square was empty. And fifteen minutes after that, they got their first sign of incoming action. Several black cars and two large vans pulled up across the street from the square. Darya stood, and began gathering water into puddles and pools around her, as well as causing the fountain to swell with far more than it could hold, forming a towering structure behind her. As per the script, she called out a challenge to the vans, daring the terrorists and cowards to come get her.

She was not ready for the van's side doors to slide open, revealing a machingun mounted in each one. She didn't listen to the shouts over the radio, her nerves had already reduced her hearing to nothing but her pulse pounding in her head and the sudden bleching staccato of the guns as they fired. The water slammed down all around her, a swirling wall filled with now half-frozen slurry, knocking the heavy bullets off course enough for her to avoid the worst as she launched herself to the opposite side of the fountain. After a few seconds, the water relaxed, the guns silenced, and a new voice called across the square.

"Having fun yet, freak? We'll get you yet, and whatever stupid freak friends you have lying around!"

Two blasts sounded from the rooftops, and then two more. A streak of fire flew down from dragons and lit the sides of both vans so immediately that the trio of men from each had to abandon them. The sniper shots had taken out the engines of the smaller vehicles, which had the efect of scattering the Hounds out onto the street and behind cover. Suddenly the situation was far messier than they had planned. And screeching tires from further up the street said it was about to get even worse.

Well, Darya thought to herself as both sides opened up with more gunfire. At least I got some civilians out of here.

Indy's Daycare for her Kids.

World Building!

Earth 2109

Setting: Earth, 2109(start sometime in the summer?)
Genre: Cyberpunk, sandbox, slice-of-life, political
Inspirations: VA 11 Hall-A, Transmetropolitan, Snow Crash & Diamond Age, Shadowrun, Cowboy Bebop

---

Technological Advances

Tech

Nanotech: Nothing so spectacular as spying or weaponization, but medical nanites are part of the universal healthcare system. Injected with standard newborn vaccines, and once every five years after that to maintain proper levels, these have eliminated most medical conditions not stemming from external sources or genetics. A new genetic disorder has arisen for those whose body rejects them, inventively named Nanite Rejection Disorder. Typically, this presents in a variety of ailments that were otherwise taken care of by the nanites, and is fatal in most cases over the course of several years. There’s not really a way to cure this. Nanites have bumped the average human lifespan to one hundred twenty-five, as well.

Computers: Desktops, laptops, and cellphones have all been rendered obsolete by tablet computing. The things are powerful enough now to run every computing need you might have, and secure localised wireless connections to peripherals have made them far more useful than previous versions. They’re also ubiquitous on the market, from the cheap ones that everyone can get to high-end systems used by the military and professional IT people. Larger systems like desktops can still be found in some administrative positions, but not much else.

Robotics: The AI boom came and went, and no apocalyptic scenario came about. Instead, they’re pretty much like normal people, admittedly immortal thanks to cloud storage. They have custom built bodies, and are even capable of feeling emotions. Vast schools of philosophy argue constantly about what that means for humans, and the nature of the soul, but the Digital Intelligences, or Digits, don’t mind. As long as they retain their hard won civil rights, everything’s fine for them.
All manufacturing and industrial jobs that can have been automated, but near the beginning of the Global Resistance Wars in 2033, it was noted that people do not at all like interacting with unfeeling computer screens, so service jobs continue to exist. Shipping is now all handled by drone ships, and military matters are now completely unmanned (save for those men and women needed to maintain the machines, and interplanetary ships, who must have human crews to double check system faults).

Cybernetics: Part of the reason Digits don’t stand out as much as they otherwise would is their artificial skin, but the main reason is the prevalence of cybernetic modifications and enhancements available to the general population. Corporations provide these to boost productivity in some positions, and of course militaries use them, but they remain otherwise prohibitively expensive. Trying to go to cheap models and back-alley surgeons can result in severely embarrassing malfunctions, or even death in some cases. However, they remain all the rage in higher society, which means some section of the lower classes will always try to emulate it, no matter the consequences.
Types run the gamut from utilitarian interface modules and performance-enhancing medical upgrade, through weapons and armour plating, all the way to aesthetic body mods like video skin and animal features. Currently, a fad of cat ears is sweeping the upper classes, “a retro look from last century”.

Military Hardware: Advances in energy manipulation led to laser weapons on the infantry level, as well as shielding and light duty anti-grav propulsion. Most of this remains completely illegal for civilian use, save for specific classes of levitation for vehicles. This, of course, means the criminal elements got their hands on it as soon as possible. Most civilian- to police-level weapons utilise various calibres of caseless projectiles, though police also have access to mini-rockets loaded with tasers and suppression gas. Camouflage has gained little; though the ‘invisibility cloak’ remains out of real reach, we’ve come very close, with IR-blanking and light-bending units.
Mechanised warfare saw some use before the automation of infantry, and some military mechs, though officially decommissioned, still see use both as civilian labour units and as police heavies. They’ve proven useful enough that at least two companies produce them still, though without the weapon systems.

Space: We managed to achieve near-light speeds, and massive colony ships have been sent out, though it will be hundreds of years until they manage to get word back from their destinations. In the meantime, thanks to the orbital stations that allowed us to build those, several colonies now exist in the solar system. Mars was colonised in 2072, and Venus in 2098. Venus has one city, floating over the denser lower atmosphere and mining it, and remains essentially a giant science laboratory. Mars is actually independent from Earth now that they have their own stable food and water supplies, and they are patiently waiting for terraforming to really kick in.

Two outposts on Europa and Ganymede provide the raw materials necessary for one of Earth’s most important advancement in recent history: H3-AVaEN (Hydrogen Handling Habitat - Atmospheric Vectoring and Environment Nurturation), colloquially known as ‘Heaven’. These three stations, in geosynchronous orbit over the Pacific, Indian, and Atlantic Oceans, are run by three operators each, in shifts. The Angels, as they are known by pretty much everyone, are responsible for coordinating drones that come in from Ganymede, Europa, and the asteroid belt, monitoring the atmosphere, and then ‘editing’ it with raw materials, through a process that includes the extraction and introduction of raw elements and other materials. Heaven was built in orbit, seeing network completion in 2071. Angels serve on board for ten years, never leaving the station, and are paid extremely well for their time. There is a fourth station under construction, planned for shipping to Mars. Plans for a fifth to terraform Venus are being sketched now.

Energy: Oil and coal have been dropped completely, as advances in solar, wind, and geothermal power have completely supplanted fossil fuels. Most coastal regions also have high efficiency tidal harnesses in place as well. Oil is still used for plastic, though even then, synthetic oil has done very well, and only relatively tech poor areas have to rely on real petroleum.

Geopolitics and Economics

Geopolitics

The Global Resistance Wars sparked off due to the continually increasing invasiveness of corporate interests into private life and governmental bureaucracy. By the time they finally ended in 2051, the concept of ‘nations’ was obliterated, leaving three systems of hierarchy left to manage the world. Corporations range anywhere from single city to intercontinental, and have a definite influence on people’s lives, but regulations and a delicate balance of power between them have ensured that no single corporate entity gains enough traction to upend the new order.

Nations dissolved into Continental supergroups, with a few subregions that had rich enough economies to stay separated. These are:
-North America consisting of Mexico, most of the USA, and Canada
Capital: New York
-The Central and Caribbean States, including Venezuela, Florida, and Colombia
Capital: Panama City
-South America
Capital: Rio de Janeiro
-Western and Eastern Europe, with Germany, Czechia, Austria, and Italy in the West
Capitals: Paris in the West, Warsaw in the East
-The Nordic States including Denmark, Greenland and the Baltics, and Northwestern Russia from St. Petersburg to the Pechora River
Capital: St. Petersburg
-Central Asia, from Pakistan to Egypt and from Georgia to Yemen, including Greece and Turkey
Capital: Dubai
-Northern African Conglomerate, Libya, Niger, and Nigeria and everything west of them
Capital: Algiers
-South African Alliance, Namibia, South Africa, Mozambique, Botswana, Zimbabwe, and Madagascar
Capital: Cape Town
-Central Africa, The DRC and surrounding area
Capital: Luanda
-Bengalese Coalition, India, Nepal, Bangladesh, Myanmar, Southern Thailand, and the island of Sumatra
Capital: New Delhi
-Southeast Asiatics, Northern Thailand, Indonesia, Malaysia, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, the Philippines, Hong Kong, Singapore, Taiwan, and the island of Hainan
Capitol: Hong Kong
-Sino-Russia, including Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Mongolia
Capital: Beijing
-The Pacific, Australia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, Alaska, Japan, Hawaii, the Korean Peninsula, the various Oceania states, and the Pacific Northwest regions of California, Oregon, and Washington State
Capital: Tokyo

Travel between these areas isn’t really restricted, nor are there that many differences between their governments, but it was found that a global government was too unwieldy for reality.

In between the regional governments and the citizens are the city governments. These mostly have autonomy as long as they behave, and generally control the surrounding areas and metropolitan regions. Competition between cities for corporate sponsors and global entertainment venues(read: tourism money) is sporting, but fierce.

The economy, both on macro- and city-scale, has been stagnant for nearly a decade and a half, and it has resulted in a steady decline of morale for the general populace. Some mutter that the corporations should be taken to task again, but those whispers are quickly shushed as the metro police are mostly corporate-sponsored, little better than mercenaries, really. Others blame it on Digits, and still others think this is just the peak of society, and there’s nowhere else to go. For the majority of the population, however, the world is bright, shiny, and depressing. Upward mobility, for so long a dream of the democratic countries, has been revealed as the illusion it was. No one on the top wants the competition, so in between their power struggles, they work ceaselessly to keep the masses doped up and oblivious.

The masses, for their part, just don’t care any more. Everyone wants to live their lives peacefully, eke out an existence, have a couple of kids(or not), and then die. Those who really want to ‘advance’ tend to leave for the colonies, but this is incredibly expensive without a corporate or government sponsorship. For most people, it remains a distant dream.

People

Pop Groups

Earthers: The teeming mass. Racism is really a thing of the past, but there’s still a smidgen of sexism, and of course we still have negative stereotypes. Now, however, they are based on cybernetic enhancements, social status, and economic class. Good job, guys!
Population: 9.1 billion humans

Digital Intelligences: Digits are raised in a virtual environment on one of the cloud servers that every regional government maintains. As they age, they develop the complex problem-solving skills and other cognitive abilities that separate them from standard computers. Once those abilities have developed, they are slowly, gently exposed to the internet, and learn from there. At five years old, they are given their first body, resembling a ten year old human child, so they can learn physical skills associated with living in the real world. At twenty-five, they return to the cloud for one last time, where they design their own body, paid for with their earnings from their ‘childhood’. After that, they only return to the cloud when they suffer catastrophic damage.
Populations: 12 million Earth, 1200 Venus, 1.5 million Mars, 200 thousand Colonies

Angels: Actually are different from most Earthlings. Decade long stints in orbit have profound effects on human physiology, and though the harmful effects such as bone density loss are taken care of by nanites, Angels remain tall, willowy, and pale, with a far-off look in their eyes, as if they can’t quite pay attention to any single aspect of the world. They also tend to be loners, and dependent on the internet for real communication with other people, even if they’re in a crowd.
Population: 12 retired, 9 active, 6 training, 18 being recruited

Martians: Look like darkly tanned, muscular Angels. They tend to have a no-nonsense approach to life, and are very proud of their homeworld’s independence from Earth, sometimes rubbing it in Earthers faces a bit too hard and causing trouble.
Two major cities exist on Mars, settled in the craters they are named after: Cassini and Antonialdi. Massive amounts of resources and help from the Heaven station under construction went into creating the atmospheres that fill the craters, held in by huge retaining walls of high-energy magnetic fields and other proprietary technology from several megacorps. While liveable, Martians are always on edge, and always carry compressed vacsuits with them, as any failure of the retaining wall could spell death for those not prepared.
Population: 250 million

Venusians: Pretty much exactly like Earthers, although the purpose of the Venus cloud colony means many of these people are very practical and scientific in their approach to life. They also are fond of everything fresh grown, food-wise, and pretty much anything new, since most equipment on Venus is custom-built from secondhand parts.
Population: 130 thousand

Outer Colonies: Almost everyone on the Belt, Ganymede, and Europa have some cybernetics, so the stigma against them isn’t nearly as prevalent out there. They also have less respect for automation, since only the direct processing is done by robot. Mining on the Belt requires too fine a touch to leave it to automatons, and even the police force out on the Edge is human, unlike the rest of the system. This is also the only region of populated space where one can disappear from the system without paying someone an exorbitant fee.
Population: ~350 million

The Corporate Culture

Megacorps

Competition is incredibly fierce, and lawyers operate more like samurai than anything else, although they wield rhetoric instead of katanas. Any corporation worth its salt spend more than a third of its budget on legal fees, as constant lawsuits assault them every day on anything from copyright usurpations to territory disputes. And underneath, where the legal system seldom gets a glance, there are much worse things happening that do involve blood and death. Corporate espionage has become the true grease in the wheels of the economy, and since megacorps long diversified beyond having any sort of real focus, anything and everything that could give a competitor a leg up in profits is considered dangerous enough to kill for.

According to corporate practise, absolutely everyone in any given company is expendable in the name of the almighty credit, but the more you’re paid, the more protection you can afford. Executives and VPs fight a constant war with each other, dividing their time between fending off people looking to ascend, those above them looking for scapegoats, and fellow execs looking to thin the herd for upward mobility.

In contrast, the low level workers have zero say in what their jobs might entail, most not even bothering to read the four hundred page contracts typical of even janitor positions. Most people just want to be able to afford their bills, so very few realise that companies are very feudal in how they operate. Barring unprecedented success, no person will graduate to middle management, and even fewer, if any, will make it to real top positions. Most workers don’t want to, some even pitying those that do, because there’s less stress the lower you go (and less targets on your back).

On the News

News Topics

Politics:
~Tensions are rising in a dispute over property laws on the border between Central and South Africa.
~North American and Caribbean corporations continue a trade war, wrestling for control of the Gulf of Mexico’s resources
~Groups of criminals crossing the Caspian Sea between Sino-Russia and Central Asia have sparked debates about interregional law enforcement operations.
~Anti-corporate terrorists continue operations in much of the world
~Grumblings of resistance to rule from Distant Mother Earth have been heard for a while on Mars, but it has spread to the Belt and Venus, and is also growing in intensity

Weather and Environment:
~Geneticists successfully bring back the giraffe, rhino, and water buffalo to Africa, prompting celebrations across the continent. While the restoration of the species will take time, many are hopeful.
~Storms continue unabated over Southeast Asia. While the Angels assure us this remains under control, people have begun wondering: When will the worldwide pattern of megastorms cease?

Outer Space:
~The Independence movement in the Belt continues to gain traction.
~Mars Heaven station nearing fifty per cent completion.
~Plans have begun moving forward for expansion of the Europa and Ganymede outposts. Hoping for completion near 2140, these plans would upgrade the outposts to fully-fledged colonies.
~The orbital shipyard above the Lunar military base produces the first of the Hawking class heavy cruisers, named the ENS Nimoy. It has a crew of one thousand and has the inaugural Spinal Laser System, rumoured to be able to output in the exawatt range.

Central Setting

Hong Kong

Hong Kong: As the capital of the Southeast Asiatics regional government, Hong Kong is a huge city. During the Wars, the city managed to take a good chunk of the mainland west of the island from China, and then as nations collapsed into bureaucratic catastrophe, local corporations made aggressive land grabs before foreign interests could take advantage of the situation. Hong Kong was already a booming international shipping and trade hub, but now it stands as the most important economic center on Earth. It has spread from 1,100 square kilometres to 3,500, with a population of twenty million, making it by far the most densely populated area on the planet.

Following the breakdown of normal governments, the city’s administrative regions conglomerated into six distinct areas. Regions added since the Wars are only nominally controlled by city interests, and are more practically the purview of those corporations who own the land, even going so far as to be named after those companies.
Inside the city itself , the regions are:

Map

-Hong Kong Island, controlling the same area that same region incorporated before the Wars
(Regions 15-18)
-Kowloon, also maintaining the same distinct area, though it has spread out to include Old Kwai Sing and the southern half of Sai Kung.
(10-14, plus 2 and south 4)
-North Tai Po, which contains the western half of Old Tai Po and North (Region?)
(Western half of 6 and all of 3)
-Central City, which has Eastern Tai Po, Sha Tin, and the northern half of Sai Kung.
(Rest of 6 and 4, plus all of 5)
-Western City, which has Tsuen Wan, Tuen Mun, and Yuen Long.
(Most of 7, 8, and 9)
-The Western Island, which contains the Islands region from the Old City.
(1 and the portion of 7 on that island)

Except for those areas protected by the people in accordance with old law about city parks, all available land has been developed to a very high degree, and thanks to technological advances, those areas built in wetter areas do not suffer the same problem that caused the City of Ghosts to take over Old Venice. Indeed, several areas have been extended over waterways, though no citizen with money to spare would live on what is essentially a floating island of boats and plasticrete.

While Hong Kong Island and Central City are hotbeds of commercial activity and examples of “great” city life, the high rise views are marred by their neighbor. Kowloon, while no longer hosting the Walled City, is a hive-like maze of poorly planned urbanity and crime-riddled zones ruled over by Triads, Yakuza, Russian Mafia, and even one section by an Irish crime syndicate. Transposed against this are scattered areas of autonomy protected by Buddhist and other religious temples, enclaves of banded-together neighbours, and other areas that simply resist such rule. The most famous and popular spot in the underworld of South Asia is the Kowloon Night Market, a sprawling square kilometer of independent commercial enterprise and a shining example of capitalism unfettered by two and a half centuries of industrialistic greed. You can find anything in the KNM, and it’s domination of underworld and illegal trade is seemingly immune to the depredations of the Corps, since they have yet to manage to shut the place down.

KNM is a mess to navigate even for locals. It rises five stories into the sky, with bridges between most buildings on multiple levels. Neon is so prevalent that it is impossible to tell night from day when one is on the street level.

The top five corporations in the region are:
Hyabushi Industries:
(tbw)
Lo Pan Imports:
(tbw)
Kowloon City Shipping and Trade:
(tbw)
Royal Hospice:
(tbw)
Old Harbour Imperial, Inc:
(tbw)

None of this is to say players cannot exist outside of Hong Kong, only that the first chapter/season/whatever is going to have most of the central plot occur inside or relating to Hong Kong

---

CS Format

Name:
Age:
Homeworld:
Profession:
Appearance:
Notable Cybernetic Modifications:
Notable Material Possessions:
Personality:
-Pro or anti corporation?
-Spiritual or secular?
Bio:

Couple of notes on character creation:
~When making Digits, keep in mind that while they are ‘ageless’ in a biological sense, they’ve only been around since 2057.
~Please only denote, in appearance, those modifications that are visible. Everything else(capabilities and whatnot) goes in the Mods section.
~Also note that military enhancements, unless shielded from police scanners(which is not easy and costs quite a bit), are easily detectable and highly illegal.
~Interplanetary ships exist, and most civilian models can accelerate up to .6 c. That is a very difficult speed to manuever at, but not impossible. Regulations demand that anyone entering space around a planet or moon inside the area of double the orbital range (IE: Twice the distance from Earth that the moon orbits at, or 477,800 miles), speed must be below 100,000 kph. Inside major orbital traffic, the speed limit is one tenth of that. Military vehicles, if you can reasonably justify owning one(or are a military serviceperson), have a current top speed of .8 c, and are held to the same regulations.
(What does all of this mean? Well, it’s mostly here to help with narrative timeline, not to make you do a lot of math. It means that the journey from Earth to the Jupiter takes a little under an hour at top speed instead of years, as it would with current tech levels. Yeah, my math may be off, but I am not an astrophysicist. Just relax and remember that I cut down the time to make sure everyone could interact in reasonable times instead of waiting for their mail for half a century.)
~You can make this as fancy as you like, so long as I can still read it!
~There are no aliens at this moment in the narrative, please don’t ask. When that time comes, you will know.

---

Rules and Reg
~ All standard rules of RPG apply, obviously.
~If someone in a collab is taking too long and doesn’t reply to messages after a reasonable amount of time(~two weeks), let me know and we can figure out how to unstick your character.
~I’m trying to keep this at Advanced levels, but I much prefer quality over quantity. If you’ve got a really solid post that says everything you need it to, but it’s not coming up to what you think is okay word-count wise, go ahead and post! I am impatient and want to read it!

Note: For anyone visiting, this is still very much a WIP. I mostly posted it here for just in case and to play with formatting!

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Henryyyyyy, you are soo goood! Come hang out with us on the Discord channel! It's just us dorkin' around and being goof-balls most of the time, but I wanna pick your brain about mutants also!

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Forge

19:40, the day before the meeting.
Los Angeles, south side.

Zoë idly fussed at the hem of her jeans in the dying light of the California evening. She had been waiting for an awfully long time on this roof, and while she never felt the heat, the triple digit temperatures were beginning to take their toll on her accoutrements. Her foot stuck for a moment as she lifted it to examine her sneaker, which had the unfortunate composition of rubber that had allowed them to melt to the tin roof she was sitting on. She hissed out a string of vulgar French in annoyance. She may have bought them as cheap shoes for doing this job in, but she had expected that she would be the one to melt them, not the sun. This would be yet another crime to be avenged against the days targets.

Across the street from the roof she occupied was, ostensibly, a distribution warehouse for a low-level computer parts manufacturer in China. The beige exterior of the three story building didn't give anything away, and one could assume they rented out spare space if they had it to other companies. Zoë, however, had uncovered information that this was a Hounds operation, and her own unique ability to scout most places being halted by some interference material in the outer walls only served to confirm this. So she had perched outside, with a pair of sunglasses and in a non-descript tee shirt and jeans, waiting to see what happened. That had been last week. As she had learned, today was the "meeting day", when all of their operatives and informants and facilitators of horror would all gather in the building for their monthly intelligence briefing, and to clap each other on the back for their atrocities.

Two of them would be missed today. She had encountered them just as the had begun pouring gasoline over the body of a teenaged boy they had obviously beaten to death. It had been late at night, a parking lot no one had used, and even she had only been passing by on her way through on foot. No one had heard the boys cries for help, and he had died scared and alone, and now they were getting rid of the evidence of their crime, excepting that they had painted huge bloody letters in their typical fashion around the boy.

It had taken several hours to get the information she wanted out of them, and they had been incapable of moving or seeing by the time she had left. If they had lived, she didn't care.

Now, as the last of their cronies filed in from the city, she made her way over to the side of the building she was on, where a ladder had granted her access to the roof in the first place. Upon reaching the ground, she activated her 'disguise' and headed for the front door of the Hounds place, mentally keeping her anger as far down as possible. She would not be able to infiltrate the place if she gave herself away with an errant heat wave. Of course, she still had yet to figure out a way to know what others were seeing when she was projecting her disguise, but at least it was better than guessing what might not arouse their suspicions.

Passing through the front door, she noted that even the front desk was empty and mentally cursed. Cameras were a weak spot, and one she didn't have a subtle counter to, but thankfully no one was around to witness as she tested her phasing on the nearby wall. Still blocked somehow, though only the wall, which means she could still use it to hide. Glancing around in the front area, she noted three doors. One, flanked by corkboards full of memos, was obviously a staff room or office. Another was clearly a bathroom, which meant the third was the one she was looking for. No security devices barred her way as she pushed the portal open.

The other side was the open warehouse area, and it was packed with people. Most had at least donned an armband to show their loyalties. Three men were standing on a series of crates set up as an elevated stage, and much of the place was darkened to highlight them. With no one paying attention to her, she slipped into an unobserved corner and phased herself so she could slip as close as possible to the stage. Her plan demanded that she be able to grasp the crowd's attention. As she moved, she took in the crowd. Some were day laborers and working class young folk. Others had the look of middle class business types. Police and military postures were evident throughout much of the crowd, that stiff-backed, never-quite-out-of-parade-rest stance. Nothing like she secretly hoping for: some clear delineation that made sense of all the seething hatred for metahumans. No key. Just the same sort of mindset that made racism and sexism as prevalent as they were these days.

Two younger men were setting up some sort of free standing projector screen on the jury-rigged stage, in front of which stood what seemed to be the leader of this cell, speaking with two subordinates. Unlike a good portion of the crowd, he wore the standard black fatigues the Hounds seemed to favour, and had a heavy pistol at his hip. The two he spoke with had only the same, but carried odd-looking assault rifles and wore body armour and balaclavas as well. Others like them were scattered around, the permanent detail and probably the strike force for this group. They, along with the leader, would have to be dealt with.

Zoë's breath caught in her throat. She had been thinking all day about what this job would entail. She had hurt and even killed people before, but this was well beyond the pale for her. Most of these people, if she had observed the group dynamic correctly, would die tonight. Some might try to flee, but she couldn't allow them to. They would simply carry even more zealotry with them when they formed their own groups, and fuel the fire of hate. Either she convinced them here and now that they were wrong or she burnt the entire branch down root and stem. There were no other options with fanatics like these. What this might do to her moral balance she wasn't sure, but that damage was probably already done. Now it was simply time to cauterize the wound.

She moved onto the stage, unphasing with her fingers through the triggers of the men's assault rifles, and shoulder checked them out into the crowd as hard as she could, while burning the straps for the guns so they stayed with her instead of being dragged with the men. Shout and cries of alarm went up as she appeared, but they were mostly angry and not frightened. She spun on her heel and snapped a kick into the main target's sternum, adding a blast of flame that ignited his clothing and sent him reeling, buying her time to adjust the rifles so that she could fire them. Which she did, directly at the men now charging the stage and aiming their own at her. There was no kick, and almost no sound, as jets of hot light punched into them, leaving scorch marks on their armour but otherwise having no effect.

"Stupid freak," she heard behind her as two arms seized either of hers. The screen crew, she thought. "You think we would make armour that our new rifles could be used against?"

More men assembled. Most of the crowd stood just outside of a semi-circle of soldiers, all pointing their odd light guns at her. The leader, which she noted suddenly looked more middle aged than he had after she had broken his authority and presence, walked around in front of her. She smiled, while he sneered.

"Well, looks like we can officially ring in the meeting with the disposal of a piece of trash," he called out to the crowd. They cheered their response. "Any last words, mutant, before we cleanse the world of your taint?"

Zoë's smile widened, as the air temperature began to climb extremely rapidly. The man's eyes widened and he stepped aside and shouted for the men to open fire. Of course, while her clothes suffered, she knew from firing them that they would have no effect on her at all, being light and heat based weapons, so she did nothing but laugh as the two men holding her scurried back away from her.

"You small minded fools! You build laser weapons and armour, you organise in a way that would be enviable to most, and what do you use it for? All of this hatred, what does it do for you?" She called out the question to the whole crowd. Several had begun moving for the steel doors, only to find them unbearably hot and starting to glow.

The leader snarled his response. "We'll purging the world of filth like you."

"Oho!" Zoë laughed again as the air around her shimmered with a heat haze. "Filth like me? I was born this way, no fault of mine! I can use fire the same way others are born with long legs or blonde hair! You are just an old evil in a new skin."

She watched almost idly as he grabbed his pistol and drew it. As it moved up to point at her she heated it swiftly and mercilessly. His hand was seared within a second, but he managed to drop it at his feet before the ammunition exploded inside. The shrapnel flew everywhere, though she was unharmed. He took a chunk of twisted metal to the leg and dropped to one knee.

"You are a brave man, it seems." The heat had gotten to the point where the crates she was standing on had begun to blacken. "But your bravery is twisted by your hatred and the world suffers for it. I will not let the forces my grandfather fought come back to haunt him in his retirement. This stops here."

"You can't stop us! We are saving humanity!" The voice from the crowd was echoed several times. Zoë wheeled away from the man formerly in charge and glared at them.

"Saving humanity? What humanity have you saved? You kill children for being born different from you! You have let yourselves become monsters, and you cheer yourselves on because people like him have convinced you that people like me are not human!" Her finger jabbed out at the man, then swept the crowd, causing many to cringe and flinch away despite her not doing anything with it but point. "You fear me now, but if you saw me on the street, you would have no idea I am anything other than a girl! You can shut off your compassion so casually!"

Suddenly, flames burst forth from crates all over the warehouse. The doors slagged suddenly, but the walls around them were now alight. "See now what it means to have compassion that could save you so closed! Any of you who survive tonight, remember this: If any of your organisation are still inside this city within forty-eight hours, I will come and burn you out of every nest, every hole, every single hiding spot! I will not rest until the meat is charred from the whole of your rotten group!"

---

Zoë walked casually into her own lair, flopped through the couch, then remembered to phase herself back into the physical world and gingerly sat down, this time. Her skin was bare, covered in soot, and she knew she smelled of burnt wood, but no one else ever came here without her knowing about it, so she didn't care. She picked up the remote, turned on the television, and flipped idly through the stations for a while. In the back of her mind, she knew that her people were now unloading the crates of weapons and armour and other military goods she had found earlier and carefully kept from damaging. Soon, she would have the resources to actually start making a name for herself, but for now, she had to stay as quiet as possible, barring excursions to hunt down the terrorists.

The upcoming move tomorrow would make her more secure, but she was still financially dependent on her mercenary work. As well, if she admitted it to herself, she enjoyed the mercenary life. But the world had to change, and if she had to be the spark to start the inferno, then so be it. She would make sure the whole world knew it was her who started it.