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9 mos ago
Current Space: The final frontier. The womb: The first frontier. Somewhere between those two: the ocean.
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11 mos ago
Lost? Confused? Lacking direction? Need to find a purpose in your life?
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I’m interested.
Slamming into the wall with great force, Osvald hit the ground in a heap. He groan as he rolled over to push himself up off the floor. The Hulk roared at him as he finally made his way to his feet. Spitting a little blood onto the floor. He clenched his fists and yelled.
He knew it was just a simulation. That the HARM room wouldn’t really do him any real damage.
Osvald was running a program where he could fight the Hulk. Trade blows with the strongest there is. Of course the safety protocols toned down the immense strength of the Hulk.
Ducking under an larger emerald arm, Osvald threw out a couple hard jabs.
Feeling his ID card vibrate he let his guard down. “Pause.” He said. The whole scene froze. The Hulks large fist mere centimetres from Osvald’s face.
The Half Asgardian looked down at his card and saw the message. “Ha. A real mission.” Wiling blood from his lip, “end training.” The scene around him dissolved to reveal the empty white room of the Holographic Augmented Reality Machine. Leaving the room he brushed his fingers through his hair to give it some semblance of order.

Arriving in the briefing room, he saw the other three who were already there. “Sorry I’m late.” They all knew of his grudge match. Being a Gamma Mutate, he had this thing where he wanted to prove himself as the Hulk’s equal. Even if he kept turning down the safety thresholds and hurting himself. He grunted as he took a seat. He suspected he had cracked a rib or two. Not that it would be a lasting problem. He had inherited some of the healing from being a Gamma Mutate, and Asgardians did tend to heal a bit faster then humans. Though it would be quite tender for a week or two. “So, does anyone actually know why we were summoned?”
Brett Hastings was doing what he was always doing at night. Getting shit faced in a bar. He just wished his Atlantean physiology didn’t keep sobering him up.
He leaned half heartedly against the bar, seated in a bar stool. A beer in one hand. His other hand rested near a row of five empty shot glasses.
To anyone watching, this wasn’t some mighty hero. He wasn’t even close to any type of hero. He sat there, hair and beard unkept. A stain on his white T-shirt. He looked more like a drunk than a crime fighter.

Hastings was content sitting here drinking. Which was why he frowned when he heard a commotion from the direction of the door. So when he turned to check, he was ready to beat some drunk and go back to his drink. He was not ready to see a glowing ball turn into a man.
Now he was no stranger to holograms. Having grown up next to technological and magical marvels, but a shitty dive bar was last place he expected to encounter this. The other patrons clamoured in surprise, but Brett just chose to go back to his drink. That was before it started talking to him. So, he listened to the spiel. If he was being honest it wasn’t all that impressive. Just because there was no Meta Human crime, didn’t mean regular humans stopped doing crime. The world was still a shit hole.

“Oh, ho ho. Looks like we got ourselves a hero.” Some drunk said trying to get reaction out of Brett. “I’m just here trying to have a nice night.” Brett said, face down toward the bar, as he sipped his beer. “You think your so tough.” A mate of the first man spoke up. “You think you can talk shit to us. US!” The drunk said gesturing to himself and his three mates. Brett looked up at the barman, who just shook his head. One of the drunks pulled out a glock and placed the barrel in the back of Brett’s head. “Hey. We’re talking to you!” The other patrons of the bar had begun to make their leave.

Brett sighed. “Big mistake, Buddy.” He slowly stood up. “Didn’t you learn not to play with guns while drinking. Someone is bound to have an accident.” Hasting said calmly, before spinning with inhuman speed.
Turning to his left, Brett’s left arm knocked the gun out of the way, while his right arm, still holding the glass tankard of beer, which he used like a set of brass knuckles, punched the man in the face. The glass shattered and the man was knocked backward. Dropping what was left of the glass handle from his beer, he motioned for the other three to try and take him. The first of the remain three charged. The tackle not really doing anything as Brett caught the blow with his superior strength. The thug looked up at Brett and skipped back, trying land a few punch. Which also had little effect. Brett calmly stepped forward and picked the man up by his cuff. Throwing him to his right rear. The man’s head collided with the bar top behind him, with a sickening thud. The unconscious body slumped to the floor. The second man drew a knife and tried to thrust with it. Brett stepped to his left front dodging the knife. While the man’s momentum carried him forward, Brett used his right hand to grab the man’s wrist. Bringing his left arm up under the assailant’s elbow.
An audible crack as the arm broke and the knife dropped to the ground. Brett planted his right foot and pivoted on it. Bringing his left foot around in a heavy kick to the side of the knee. Resulting in a second audible crack.
Hastings looked up to see the last man running out the door.

Sighing, Brett returned to his seat at the bar, and motioned for another drink. “You should go to the meeting Brett.” The bartender said as he poured another beer. “And I’m not just saying that because I want you to stop breaking my glassware.” The beer was set down in front of Brett. “Those days are behind me.” He said with a frown. Sipping the beer. “Yet you still fight any thug that breaks the law?” Was the barman’s response. “It’s not that simple.” “Yes it is, Brett. Once a Hero, always a Hero.” Brett sighed and skulled the rest of his beer, and placed two hundred dollars on the bar. “Fine, I’ll head them out, but I won’t make any promises.” Brett stood up to leave. “Your not taking your Trident?” Brett just shook his head. “I haven’t agreed to join them yet.”
With that, he left the bar to go to the meeting place.
What order are we being recruited? How do you intend it to work. We post an opening post of our characters going about our business, and you respond with Viren rocking up? Seems like it will take a while before the whole team is even together.
@Sanity43217 Are there any rules or restrictions to his shape shifting?


Aside from it hurting like a bitch?
His equipment doesn’t shift with him, often forcing him to remove his armour to shift. Plus the animal instincts can start to take hold. Prolonged use of the Crinos can lead to increased rage and feral behaviour. Glabro and Hispo accrue the feral nature at a much slower rate, and Homid and Lupus don’t accrue any at all, Garou can spend an indefinite amount of time as Lupus or Homid.



Real Name: Osvald Samson
Codename: Viking
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance: The most standout feature of Osvald is his green hair. A trait he inherited from his biological father, Leonard Samson. From a glance, this seems to be the only trait he inherited from Leonard, as he lacks the height and muscular frame of his father. Having a much leaner build. With emerald green eyes, Osvald’s angular features tend to give him a rather piercing glare.
When not fighting crime, Osvald tends to wear casual clothes with a more formal bend. Like a T-shirt and blazer. However, when fighting crime, he wears a pair of black tactical pants and an Asgardian armoured vest.
Personality: Osvald tries to be a laid back individual, though often struggles with keeping his temper in check. Often looking for an outlet, whether that training or whatever sport he is allowed to play considering his abilities.
He is rather confident in his powers, sometimes to the point of being cocky. Especially considering his relatively young age and thus his powers are rather under developed.
Powers/Abilities: Osvald Samson is half Asgardian, half Human (Gamma Mutate). Given his young (in comparison to other Asgardians) age, most if not all his Asgardian powers are yet to manifest. Though it could be theorised that it bolsters his strength, but most of his superhuman strength comes from being empowered by Gamma Radiation.
  • Superhuman Strength: While not exposed to a dosage of gamma radiation as great as the Hulk, the Abomination, or even the She-Hulk, Samson was granted great superhuman strength. As a result of his gamma ray exposure, he possessed sufficient superhuman strength to lift about 70 tons. His great strength also extends into the powerful muscles of his legs, allowing him to leap great heights and distances, though far less than the Hulk or Abomination. Samson has been known to leap approximately 580 feet straight up into the air, and to a maximum reported distance of 910 feet.
  • Superhuman Stamina: As in the case of the Hulk, She-Hulk and Abomination, the gamma ray exposure has dramatically increased the efficiency of Samson's musculature, though not as greatly. As a result, his musculature produces considerably less fatigue toxins during physical activity than the musculature of a normal human. Samson can physically exert himself at peak capacity for about 24 hours before the build up of fatigue toxins in his blood begins to impair him.
  • Superhuman Durability: Samson's gamma ray enhanced physique is much harder and more resistant to physical injury than a normal human. Samson's skin is able to resist penetration wounds from high caliber bullets or blades composed of most conventional materials. Samson is also physically durable enough to withstand multiple blows from the Hulk, while in an enraged emotional state, and sustain little to no injury. His bones and muscles are strong and resilient enough to be able to survive a fall at terminal velocity reached after free-falling 4,000 feet in a feet-first attitude at 145 miles per hour against sidewalk concrete, provided he lands upright. Even if he doesn't land upright, Samson wouldn't sustain serious physical injury.

Though he may unlock more powers later, or become even stronger should he be exposed to Gamma Radiation or Asgardian Magic.
Avengers Sponsor: Bruce Banner/The Hulk
History: Osvald Samson never really knew his real parents.
Leonard Samson had a short relationship with an Asgardian woman, which resulted in the pregnancy. The pregnancy was kept hidden from Leonard when she returned to Asgard. When he was born, his green hair made him an outcast. As an infant, he was sent to Midgard as they thought it was bad omen.
He was left at an orphanage with a note with his name on it.
Osvald never really fit in, given his green hair, and predisposition to throwing tantrums. It quickly became apparent he was no ordinary kid, as he started to exhibit his superhuman powers. So, was sent to a SHIELD sponsored orphanage for super powered individuals. After various tests, training and experiments, his file was buried in the SHIELD database as HYDRA sought him as a potential asset. He was taken to a Siberian research facility under the guise of extra training to work alongside the Avengers. The whole time, they kept convincing him he would be fighting for good, while actually training him to fight for Evil. When he was sixteen, he started to get an inclination that something wasn’t quite right. So he broke out to live on his own. Thinking he was old enough to survive on his own.
He spent the next years of his life in relative peace. Living alone in a log cabin in Siberia. His enhanced physiology made it a lot easier to survive. It wasn’t until Bruce found him while investigating an unusually high concentration of Gamma Radiation near an old HYDRA base that he considered joining the NEO initiative. Convinced by Bruce in that it would be a could opportunity to understand more about his condition. So, at 20 years old, Osvald made his way to New York to join the world’s mightiest heros.
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