Topic: Hellhound On My Trail 2: Registration Thread

[TeroWasHere]

Here's what I want from you:

Character Name and Alias
Age
Sex
Height, and weight if it's something unusual (sumo wrestler, adolescent)
Nationality/Ethnicity/Religion
Appearance - Include both mundane appearance and style, and whatever costume or masking one uses.
Superpower - Also put superhuman weaknesses here.
History
Equipment

I will then calculate bonuses/penalties, attach rulings, and give you the Antero Seal of Superheroic Rockage.

RULES AND SPECIAL NOTES FOR CHARACTER CREATION

RULE THE FIRST: NO TWINKING

-This is not X-Men, this is not Superman.  Your twinky Mister Invincibles will be eliminated.  Overpowered characters will be brought to heel by my editing powers, violently if need be. 

-Your equipment must be civilian.  Even if you are a fucking ex-SEAL - which you aren't, because then you would either be working for the government or dead in a ditch - you do not have access to rocket launchers, plastic explosives, tanks, mecha, lasers, experimental cybernetics, nanomachines, etc.

-There's room to work - from the first game, for example, Krieg's The Enigma was incredibly, cosmically powerful, but his power took a horrible toll on his body to the point where he avoided using it in all but exceptional cases.  Johnny's Lobo was twinked as fuck at first, but I took him down a notch, and gave him weaknesses to temper his combat strength.  Adam's The Raven, on the other hand, had only the ability to talk to birds and combat skills.

RULE THE SECOND: HISTORY RULES

-Please link your character's history with another posted character, in some fashion.  Doesn't have to be intimate.

-Your powers are inborn.  They do not come from high tech gadgetry, magick, Excalibur, Jesus, or toxic waste; they come from your mammy, your pappy, and the hideous otherworldy influence of The Mother (which you don't know about, because the Hellhounds sure as fuck weren't going to tell the world that one).  They can emerge over time (puberty is a common one) but they are INNATE.

-Evil characters are unacceptable, though "flawed" is fine and dandy - in D&D terms, CG (Spitzer), NG (Hollowpoint), and LG (The Puppet King) dominate, with room for CN (Neilus) and N (The Engima).  If you want to make a superhuman serial killer, you're in the wrong game.  Furthermore: if you want to make a goody-two-shoes Superman, you're also in the wrong game.

RULE THE THIRD: CONTINUITY

-Follow the tech and timeline info that I'll put up in the OOC thread.  You can have a hacker, for example, but he can't neural interface; you can be from New Orleans, but you can't live therenow.

[S*S]

No way was the puppet king lawful good!

...Er, yeah, post to come.

Actually, I have three or four characters Ive semi-written up. I should run them all by you to see which fits best. Or should I just submit like three characters? >_<

[LoneCoon]

REJECTED

Name: Albert Molson  aka Tendril

Age: 26

Height: 5' 8”

Nationality/Ethnicity/Religion: Mostly Protestant poor white trash

Description:

The first thing you notice about Albert is how angry he looks. A nearly permanent scowl graces his face. He talks with a sneer. He sounds like he’s out for revenge against the world. In a way, he is. Everyone has hated him because he’s been such an arrogant bastard for so long, that he can hardly remember what being nice is. His fiery red hair, angry yellow eyes often speak for the quality of his temper.

When he’s “working”, he wears a gas mask with a built in voice modulator that makes his voice sound an octaves lower. The rest of his costume is an olive drab jump suit, combat boots, and thick, black welding gloves.

Profession and Mundane Skills: Despite lacking anything resembling a decent education, Albert managed to put himself through trade school as an electrician. He also welds, does plumbing, and is a general handy man.

Powers:

Tedrils: Tendril has four tendrils that sprout from his body. Each set is different from the other. They wrap around his limbs under the skin when they are retracted, and deploy very quickly. These 8-foot tendrils are covered in a chitinous shell, and are primarily used for grabbing, throwing, and holding things in place. They are stronger than Albert, each one being able to pick up a grown. Working together, they can lift up to 800 pounds. They end in a hinged, three-pronged claw.

Disadvantages:

Psychic Hatred: The part of Tendrils brain that control the movement of his tenticles aslo enhanced his latent psychic talents. Unfortunatly, the only thing it can transmit is hateful messages. This unconciously causes everyone around Tendril to hate him, provoking hostile reactions towards him, especially if they weren't exactly friendly in the first place.

History:

Everyone hated Albert. His mom thought he was a bastard, the kids at school though he was a bastard, the local police department wrote him off as a delinquent, despite the fact he’d done nothing wrong. His mother used to beat him and warn him of his “wicked ways” before sending him out of their squalor apartment into the streets. The local gangs on the streets hated him because he was a bastard. They'd push him around and take whatever money he had, which was often nothing. He always hated the way he looked because of the freakish bulges under his skin. The one doctor he saw in his life thought they were tumors. His mother said that he hoped he died from them.

While walking home from school one day, after being sent home because “He was being a bastard,” a local thug jumped him and demanded his money. Albert finally snapped. His skin tore open. The tendrils came forth and eight claws tore the man to bits. Albert made it back home through the fire escape. He locked himself in the bathroom and showered away the blood of the first man he'd killed.

The next week police reports flooded in about a demon walking through the streets and destroying the block. By the time the SWAT team got there, the city block was left in ruins, all the thugs and trash of the street lie dead, torn to bits, or thrown like rag dolls through windows. Cars were overturned, and fires lit the night street. From atop the buildings a kid looked down and laughed. He'd show them who the bastard was.

Albert set off to discover who his father was after he destroyed his neighborhood. He figured that since HE was a bastard, he'd make the man who made him a bastard suffer. He managed to track down a name, and decided to pay him a visit. When he wasn't home, Albert got pissed and started trashing the place. In his ransacking, he discovered a photo album, filled with pictures of Masks from the past. Most shocking, he found a group photo of the original Chicago Hellhounds. He somehow knew these people and he felt a connection to these heroes. They had gifts like him and weren't total bastards about it. He took the photo and kept it with him, leaving behind his life of unwarranted violence and taking a new purpose of warranted violence against law breakers.

He's still a bastard though.

Equipment

Level IIIa Bullet resistant vest
3 D-cell Mag-Lite
Glock 20 10mm Pistol  (15rd, 2 spare magazines)
Leatherman
Zippo Lighter
Gas Mask
Welding gloves
Wrigley's Spearmint Gum
Sypderco Centofante4 folding knife
Electrical Code Pocket Manual
Combo wire cutter/stripper
Spool of copper wire
Rubber "gloves" for his claws

Additonally, Tendril has a 2007 Ford Ranger pickup truck with bed mounted tool box, though this is his work truck and he tries not to get it involved with his hobbies of breaking criminals. He also has a Remington 870 12 gauge Shotgun.

Tendril was rejected due to difficulties in power balancing.

[TeroWasHere]

No way was the puppet king lawful good!

He totally was, he just happened to be batshit insane at the same time.  Consider - constant deference to the authority of Roosevelt II and noblesse oblige in general, self-image as defender of justice and law, tended to caputre, rather than kill, his archrivals, and, of course, he attacked Spitzer for executing Garibaldi, and only The Enigma's intervention prevented Spitzer's demise.

So, Lawful Good but absolutely insane.

Actually, I have three or four characters Ive semi-written up. I should run them all by you to see which fits best. Or should I just submit like three characters? >_<

Let's make this RULE THE FOURTH: IF YOU HAVE A BUNCH OF CHARACTER IDEAS, TALK TO ME AND WE'LL DECIDE WHO TO USE. 

[S*S]

Playback is approved, pending history change

Character Name and Alias: Frank Adams, "Playback."

Age: 40

Sex: Male

Height: 5'10

Nationality/Ethnicity/Religion: American/Black/Atheist

Appearance: - Frank commonly wears a striped workshirt and britches, or a large tan overcoat if he's out and about. He has brown eyes, naturally curly black hair that's been clipped short and sensibly straight, and a lean physique. A few grey hairs are starting to appear on his head, his eyes are usually bloodshot and tired.

Superpower: - Post-cognitive Playback: Frank has the ability to see into the past with complete chronological accuracy and 100% clarity, rewinding through time in his head like a DVD player, and then watching the events of the past unfold before his eyes as a form of an "overlay" to the present world. He is limited by normal physical and line-of-sight limitations and extreme darkness: if someone he is watching in the past moves off to another room, Frank must physically follow along in the present, or he won't be able to watch them. Frank cannot see the future, nor can he affect the past. ((Playback must make a roll beyond a certain distance; otherwise he only gets a mixture of hazy impressions which don't give details but could, say, confirm that a murder happened here.  He can try again in a day, for that same time range.  Penalties for time distance will be laid out below - no dinosaur watching, you.  Very short time distance needs no roll.  While he's watching the past, he's considered distracted - don't try to watch and fight at the same time unless absolutely necessary.))

Mundane skills/powers: "Hey, you're Frank Adams, ain'tcha?": Frank used to be a homicide detective, using his unique talent to view crimes being commited, and then finding the necessary evidence to bring the guilty to justice. His success in this area was very well publicized, until a court ruled that post-cognitive visions were inadmissable as evidence purely on their own weight. Frank still brought a lot of people to justice by using his power to dig up every scrap of evidence, but the issue caused a lot of public debate. Frank received a lot of publicity before and after this incidence, almost all of it favorable.

More even then other masks, people recognise Frank on sight, and usually react very favorably to him: the general public was by and large on his side, and he came off as a real hero of the people. Policemen in particularly are more then happy to cooperate with him, and offer him help and information.

"Shit, it's that 'Playback' motherfuck": This has lead to a concordantly negative reputation amoung the criminal underworld. Frank put a lot of people in prison, and is renowned for being an uncomprimising hardass. Quite a few criminals have friends put away by him, and even those that have not arn't particularly fond of him.

Detectivey skills: Frank is a good cop even without his unique powers, and his experience as a detective aids him in intelligence gathering, both in terms of physical investigation and asking around for information.  ((Frank knows how to search a crime scene, and, thanks to his power, is a genius at forensics.  He has +1 to any information gathering activity (besides library research).  Any social interaction where his badge would help, furthermore, is easy for him.  He also knows the law like the back of his hand, and will know what can get the cops on you all.))

Hardass street cop: Dirty Harry is his idol. Frank can handle a gun, is tough enough to deal with being injured, and has a mean right hook. ((+1 hand-to-hand, +1 pistols, +1 dodge))

History: I do have a history, but it's 2000 fucking words long, and Im trying to trim it down to sane levels without rendering it pointless.

Equipment: Two pairs of handcuffs
Pepper Spray
Taser
Switchblade
A cool sidearm (What are handguns like in the near future?) - Glock 66 Law Enforcement Issue .45 caliber pistol
Police issue tactical armored vest
Two packets of cigarettes
Expensive solid-silver lighter
Wallet with 168 dollars


Bonuses
+1 Pistols
+1 Fists
+1 Dodge
+1 Gather Information

Postcognition Rolls
≤ 3 months ago: No roll necessary, automatic success.
≤ 6 months ago: +2
≤ 1 year ago: +1
≤ 5 years ago: 0
≤ 10 years ago: -1
≤ 25 years ago: -2
≤ 50 years ago: -3
≤ 100 years ago: -4
≤ 200 years ago: -5

He has never been able to see back before the 1820s.  By coincidence, this was when the camera was developed.

Certain events (generally involving the release of massive amounts of energy in a sudden fashion, such as nuclear explosions) can, effectively, tear the tape, and make a range of time in an area illegible to him.

Playback has the Antero Seal of Superheroic Rockage

[LoneCoon]

Name: Jean Paul Lovell aka Vision

Age: 32

Height: 5' 3”

Nationality/Ethnicity/Religion: Agnostic American (Irish, German, French)

Description:

Jean is a nerdy looking fellow when you see him walking down the street. If you can see him in the sunlight, that is. He's kind of pale, and wears a sun hat most of the time. He's usually wearing thick sun glasses as well. Long sleeve shirts and khakis, year round, because he's in no mood to tan. There's also the walking stick. He's actually fairly nice, once you get to know him ,but you'd have to meet him first.

At night though, he transforms into someone far more interesting. He wears a dark blue, double breasted suit, tie, and dark blue bowler. A blue steel mask that conceals everything but his unseeing eyes. And those eyes, they glow. They glow intently as he watches those who think they can't be seen. He sees their sins. He hears their conversations. He watches everything they do and he brings them to justice.

Profession and Mundane Skills: Jean Paul is a network security administrator. His primary duties are keeping hackers out, and keeping his data in. He's very good at his job and has led the FBI to numerous arrests of hackers. No one successfully war-drives in his neighborhood. In his off time, he works with blind children, and has a HAM radio license.

Powers:

Wavelength Vision: Vision can see into the entire spectrum of electromagnetic energy. From ELF (Extremely Low Frequencies) up through gamma radiation, Vision can see it all. His experience with computers and amateur radio allows him to read any information that he may see on those waves, though with some difficulty. He can focus his vison as tight as he needs to to read indivdual wavelengths.((As described.  He can pick up radio signals like a car antenna with legs.))

Wavelength Generation: Vision can also produce most of the frequencies that he can see.
Vision can produce, among others:
Radio Waves that can transmit messages, though he has to be looking in the direction of the receiver to get any messages through.
((Encode speaking as radio/cell/etc. transmission))
Microwave/Infared Beam that causes pain but isn't fatal, much like the Army's Pain Beam of 2005.
((Short-ranged attack, one shot per round.  Success causes pain to target (-2 to rolls that turn); great success causes stunning just like a powerful blow.  Also, can cook food.))
Visible light from his eyes, acting as a flashlight for others 
((Since he's blind, he doesn't have any real idea what he's doing with this one - he just knows he can.))
X-rays which allow him to see through things for a short distance
Ultraviolet though not good for much, they can spice up a rave or give a sunburn if exposed for too long
((Human tanning salon: roll to apply even tan.  Failure causes burns and tan lines.))
Gamma Radiation but doing so put serious strain on his eyes and generally isn't that helpful.
((Gives you cancer.  Not the most useful trick.))

Disadvantages:

Blind: Despite all the nifty things that Vision can see, he is completely blind as far as visible light goes. This isn'ttoo much of a problem in the city, as the amount of electromagnetic radiation pouring from everywhere gives him a pretty good idea of what's around. However, when he's in the country, or underground, there's not a whole lot he can see.

Vision Overload[/u] While Vision can see an entire class of frequencies at once, too much of that radiation will "white out" his vision. For example, standing next to a police dispatch tower while scanning the police frequencies, he would have to focus on a single transmission or be blinded by the overload.

One Frequency at a Time:[/u] Vision can only see one frequency at a time, though he can shuffle through the common frequencies in a few seconds. It would take him a good ten minutes to do a complete scan of radio frequencies, and at least a half an hour to completely scan the electromagnetic band.

Input/Output[/u] Vision can only output the frequencies he is currently seeing, meaning he cannot look into ultraviolet and put out radio transmissions, nor put out a Microwave/Infared beam and read x-rays.

((See Summary of Senses))

Mundane skills

Network security:  Vision is an expert in securing and breaking into networks. Being able to see the wireless networks and see the data being transferred over wired systems has made him adept at thwarting attacks, and countering with his own. ((Hacker! +2.))

Judo While by no means a bruiser, crime fighting has necessitated that Vision learn a defensive martial art. Judo works best so that he can run away while his opponent is lying on the ground. ((+1 to hand-to-hand dodge, +1 to grapple or throw - i.e. nonlethal, and often non-damaging, attacks))

History:

Jean Paul Lovell wasn't always blind. Indeed, he used to have excellent sight, being able to pick out objects at distances that amazed most people. He always loved being able to play hide and seek and be able to find every single kid before they called the game. Jean Paul was going to be a pilot with those awesome eyes of his. Everyone expected he'd go far.

That was, of course, until the day he woke up unable to see anything at all. For the next few months, Jean Paul lamented his woeful plight. Everything had gone from perfect to an utter mess in a single day. He decided that life wasn't worth living and he was going to take a walk, hopefully off a cliff. He didn't even get out of his house before he'd fallen down the stairs and given himself a concussion.

When he woke up in the hospital, he could see again. But everything was red and warm looking. Nothing looked right at all. He rubbed his eyes, everything was dark and violet. The sun was bright though and he could see filterings of the suns rays absorbing into everything. He blinked and it was red and hot again. When they x-rayed his skull, he could see the x-rays even though his eyes were closed. He could see all the wireless traffic going through the hospital. He even saw the harsh and frightening light of radiation.

With his new found sight, Jean Paul found that if he heated a page, he could read the ink, as it changed temperatures differently than the page. He got to the point where he could heat the pages with his eyes rather than the microwave. What was more impressive, he could read computer screens because of the limitless electromagnetic radiation they put off. If he focused hard enough, he could even see the data flowing from input to output. It was then that he decided to go into computers to make a living.

He studied network security, being able to detect attacks the second they started. Wireless attacks were thwarted to the point of Jean Paul physically yanking the kids out of their car. He decided to take his sight to the streets, catching the criminals that the regular masks didn't. Those who dealt in child porn, in wire fraud, in cracking and hacking. He started bringing them to justice, and making them see the light of day.

Relationships

Vision is the great-great-grand-nephew to the original Hollowpoint. Patrick MacGregor, Hollowpoint's brother who served with the Nazis, had a few children after World War II, one of whom immigrated to the United States and married into the popluation. There were no other reported supers from that bloodline, though Jean Paul has his suspicions about some of them. This also makes him the cousins of the second Hollowpoint (twice removed),  the Ace of Spades (thrice removed), the Queen of Spades and Rimfire (both four times removed), though he's rarely met any of them.

Equipment

Level IIa Bullet resistant vest <– Will be illegal in certain states and jurisdictions, and will raise questions if it's seen in your day-to-day life.  Keep it covered.
Can of pepper spray
Top of the line PDA
Wi-Spy keyfob
Long range Microphone
Visine
Collapsable walking stick
Spool of twine
Small folding knife

((Summary of Senses: Generally, he'll be using either infrared or radio.  Combining with sending, this results in active infrared/radar which gives him a rather clear picture, though colors aren't seen - he's not truly blind.  Reading print is impossible, and similar materials or distances may merge together, but that's very situation specific.

Just as too much light makes the baby go blind, an overload of signal can interfere with a sense - an explosion, say, can blind his infrared like a flash-bang, and a room at human body temperature would be a solid color.

Finding a particular radio signal or wireless signal in a crowded area can be like tuning a radio.

Digital text can by read, thanks to his various sensitivities.  It does not appear as text to him (instead it's electromagnetic signals etc.) but he can read it as if it was at this point.))

Bonuses:
Hacking +2
Hand-to-hand dodge +1
Hand-to-hand attack +1 (non-lethal attacks and grapples only)

Vision has the Antero Seal of Superheroic Rockage

[Kelric]

Character and History altered as I prep a different character and rework timelinefunstuffandinfo.


Character Name and Alias: Jonathan (Jon) Anders aka The Ace of Spades

Age: 58

Sex:  Like his grandfather, lots of it.  Also, Male.

Height: 6'

Nationality/Ethnicity/Religion: American, White, Irregular attending Protestant

Appearance, Normal: Jon is a T-shirt and jeans kinda guy.  He has short brown hair which is usually left to fend for itself, brown eyes and a mischievious smile.  He has a moderately muscular build and is usually wearing jeans, a T-shirt, tennis shoes.

Appearance, Mask:  Jon doesn't so much put on a mask as he does coat himself in metal.  A shiny greyish metal covers his entire body except for his eyes, as well as his clothes.  The metal smoothes away the edges of his clothing, making it almost seem like he has nothing on but metal.  The metal coats even his hair, and does so on every strand individually.  It goes beyond the length of his normal hair, making it seem as though his hair is really shoulder length.

Superpower:
Base Power - The ability to create,  manipulate, and reabsorb a strong, titanium like alloy which eminates from his body.

Superpower Disadvantage - Creating the metal takes energy, and Ace only has so much, as such, in order to conserve his energy, he usually reabsorbs the metal back into his body, and thus, is fine.  However, loss of physical contact with the metal he creates causes it to permanenty solidify and no longer allows Ace to reabsorb it into his body.  Too much of this and he will not be able to make any more until he rebuilds his energy.  Way too much of this, and he won't even be able to keep his primary ability up, which is to coat his body in metal.

Super Tricks, aka, the stuff Antero hates me for:

Body of metal - Ace's most common trick and his form of mask, involves coating his entire body in metal, providing protection against attacks.  The metal is rather flexible, not really getting in the way of his movements at all, though its not the best armor in the entire world.  It also makes him sink like a rock.

–––>Sub Trick  Juggernaut - Ace puts out almost all of his metal into forming a large and thick protective coating around his body.  This makes him almost indestructable.  It also makes him very unable to see, smell, move, or even breath.  He can't keep this up for very long before he has to come out for air.  Very high temperatures would also cook him alive, and deep bodies of water aren't fun either.

Weapon Creation - After his body of metal, Ace most often creates temporary melee weapons with which to fight.  Afterwards, he reabsorbs the metal into his body.  He has become quite adept as this.

––––>Sub Trick Porcupine - Really only used when grappled, with this trick, Ace creates spikes all over his metal body, impaling whoever is grabbing him.

Spike Shooting - Ace can shoot metal spikes out of his body in order to try and hit enemies at range.  He's not very good at it though, because it uses up metal that he can't reabsorb, and so he doesn't do it very often.

––––>Sub Trick Human Hand Grenade - With this, Ace shoots a hail of metal spikes out of his body in every direction.  Its very effective for taking out crowds of people.  It also has the side effect of using up almost all of his energy, barely allowing him to even keep his metal body afterwards.  Making weapons after such is a no go, unless he gives up his armor.

Rail Rocketing - One of Ace's signature moves, is to zip around on a moving platform of metal.  Metal spikes from the platform support it as he races along at fairly quick speeds.  As he moves, the tail end of the metal is reabsorbed to create more platform to rocket with.  With this trick, Ace can move fairly freely, and fast.  As such, hitting him gets more difficult.  On the other hand, he has some difficulty hitting things as well.  Its even worse when he tries to hit anything at range.  If Ace were ever to be knocked off his platform, it would waste a good amount of energy.


Disadvantages:  Beyond being unable to reabsorb his metal after losing physical contact with it, Ace has some other disadvantages.

Lack o'Stealth - Being metallic tends to reflect light, and as such, Ace tends to shine in the daylight, and at night, streetlights and headlights make him stand out in a crowd.

Implant rejection - Not only can he not reabsorb his metal after losing contact with it, his body rejects foreign implants, whether or not they're metal.  Stitches, staples, pacemakers, etc.  His body will have nothing to do with them.

History: Ace comes from a long line of Masks. His father and mother were also both masks.  His mother was the untouchable Hollowpoint II, and his father was the powerful Jack of Spades, master of gravity.  And then there were his two grandfathers.  The original, undefeatable, classic Hollowpoint, and, of course, the fallen hero, the King of Spades.

Equipment:

Cellphone
wallet
comb
breath mints
pen(used for writing down beautiful ladies' numbers)

[Aleric]

This one is such an easy edit I figured I'd hit it first.  No combat powers?  Duuuude.

Character Name
  Greyson "Grey" Portman

Alias
  Egress

Age
  26

Sex
  Male

Height
  5'8"

Nationality/Ethnicity/Religion
  Egress is American through and through, a genuine mutt from the Great American Melting Pot.  He doesn't believe in any type of typical religion, preferring his own twist on things.

Appearance
  Grey looks to be a typical 26 year old, with the single exception of the scar that travels from the corner of his right eye down to his chin.  His eyes are light ice blue, almost to the point of being pure white save for the pupils.  He has average build, slightly athletic, looking as though it's only been the last few years that he's been training himself.

Appearance, Mask
 His Mask is fairly simple, as all it is is a labcoat, white pants, blue surgery-style gloves, and a surgeon's breath mask.

Superpower
    Egress's power is both simple and complicated.  He can create a pair of 6' tall, 3.5' wide oval portal with a vague blue outline.  These portals are only useable when both are deployed, as they are literally space-benders, for anything that goes into the one portal comes out the other one. When one looks into one portal, they can see out the other portal as though looking through a window, even if the view is occasionally skewed because of the portal orientations. If only one of these such portals is out, it is little more than a shimmering mirror.
 The portals can only be created in line of sight within 25 meters (roughly 80 feet) of Egress, and are created when Egress fires a small ball of shimmering energy from one of his hands.  This ball of energy flies until it comes into contact with a solid surface, where it then spreads to create the portal instantly.   The portals cannot be placed more than 25 meters apart or they will not work, as the connection will be stretched too thin. Also, if the ball of energy reflects or travels beyond 25 meters, it evaporates into nothingness.
  The downsides to these portals are that they can not be created on reflective surfaces, and can only be created on a sufficiently flat surface, and can not be opened in the air in front of him.  Also, only two of these such portals can be opened at once, so if two  portals are open, and Egress opens another portal, the first vanishes and the space-bend is rerouted to the new portal.  Egress may keep each portal open as long as he wishes, and it is a simple act of will to close them.

((Portals, 25m range.  Reflective surface limitation, flat surface needed.  Cannot be used to cut someone in half.  They will wind up on one side or another.))

Mundane Abilities
  Creativity
 Egress is a quick thinker, and is quite capable of pulling random things from his surroundings to accomplish his goal.  Being an engineer, he is quite adept at taking seemingly useless and unrelated things and making them into a dangerous obstacle for his opponents, or even things that can aid him, such as IED's or nooses or other random stuff.
((Improvised weapons - an appropriate object may be used as a comparable weapon without penalty))
((Improvised tools/Engineer - Option to Build Shit, at +1 (or no bonus with improvised tools).  You still can't make a gun out of paperclips, but a potato gun can fuck someone up.

  Spatial Awareness
  The ability to control and create these portals have given Egress an enhanced spatial awareness that borderlines on the genius level.  He is constantly surveying his surroundings to determine where portals may be placed if necessary.
((Most any detail about a room is immediately available.  +2 to search))

  Slight Agility
  Over the past two years, Egress has been doing self-training to increase his agility.  Being self-created, the training isn't hugely effective, and hasn't had a whole large amount of impact, but he is more agile than the typical person.
((Slight benefit.  ))

Weakness
    Egress is still only human.  He has no abilities beyond the portals and his mental acuity.
((Being human isn't actually a weakness, you misanthrope!))

History
  Greyson was born into a normal, decent, loving family.  Well, they were, until his father became a drunk, and his mother began sleeping around.  His older sister became a prostitute, and his younger brother became a druggie.  Grey wanted nothing more than to help his family get off of this path of self-destruction but very soon found himself headed down the same path as his younger brother... a path which led him into a very dark place.
  So dark was his path, that he even began getting into the crime scene to make quick money.  It was the night he found his powers that also changed his life forever.  He created a portal on his bed that somehow threw him out of the wall beside the bed.  He marveled at his ability for a few minutes, then decided to experiment with it to test it's limits. Throwing things into one portal and watching them come out of the other.
  Then, he wondered what would happen if he created only one portal.  The shimmering reflective surface it created shown him his own reflection, a gaunt, pock-faced hooligan who seemed to have stopped caring about his own life.  He realized with perfect clarity what he had been doing to himself over the past year and checked into rehab.  One of the volunteers at the rehabilitation center was an engineer, a field that once Grey started to learn about, fascinated him.
 He dedicated his life and mind to working in the field of engineering.  A few nights a week he would patrol the streets as Egress, attempting to make sure petty criminals didn't get away with their crimes.  The image of a surgeon, flying up from a hole in the road to land in front of them, taking advantage of their surprise and knocking them out, then dragging them into an alley and taking their stolen goods, returning them to their rightful owners.
   He still keeps in touch with his family, and has only recently graduated school.  He now works as an engineer, and given his portal abilities, he has an intimate knowledge of spatial dimensions, making him excel at his job.  He sends some of his excess money to his family, hoping that they may use it to better their lives, though, he doesn't hold his breath. 
   Greyson Portman himself is one of those men who almost seems to go out of his way to remain unnoticed, from everything including his wardrobe and hairstyle, he tries to blend in.  This isn't exactly easy given that he's somewhat attractive and has a fairly athletic build, but he manages to blend in fairly decently.  He keeps a small apartment in his home city of New York, a cheap motor vehicle that serves mostly to get him to the store for food, since he walks to the subway station to go to work, and once a week, he has his dry cleaning done.  These are the only things he really spends his money on, and what he doesn't send to his family, he puts in the bank.  He's lived this way for the past year on a decent salary, so he has a good bit of funds in the bank, even though he really doesn't keep great track of it.
   As a generality, Egress goes on patrol four nights a week, and on occasion meets up with Salamander through chance, and they have a hell of a lot of fun scaring bad guys before dropping them smoking through a portal into the police station.
   He's a generally quiet person when he's not in his mask outfit, as he feels less empowered to do much of anything.  Because of this, he still hasn't gotten up the nerve to ask that girl Bridget from the dry cleaner's out to dinner... all he can do is smile.   His usual patrol partner is Vision, whom he was roommates with in college.

Equipment
sleeping bag (carried at all times)
motor vehicle
apartment
cell phone <–- Palmtop thingy, thanks to futuretech
cubicle
collapsable lapdesk
silvery metallic cigarette case
gum
string
paperclips
ping-pong ball
"mask" suit
"Business" suit

Bonuses:
+1 Build Shit
+2 Search


                       Egress

Egress has the Antero Seal of Superheroic Rockage

[toranoraneko]

Character Name: Gayle Leychek
Alias: Mistral
Age: 19
Sex: Female
Height: 5' 2"
Ethnicity/Nationality: Polish/Czech American
Religion: Agnostic

Appearance:
Gayle is a small girl, to see her you would probably think she was thirteen. Short and skinny, she wears a large grey overcoat to try to disguise her diminutiveness. Her long, brown hair has a six inch wide strip of azure in the front, and she has four pairs of stripes of the same color: one set per cheek, and one set on each side of her neck. These, she usually hides with makeup. Her wide eyes are stormy grey, and she tends to wear skate sneakers, cargo pants and tshirts. She prefers the colors purple, grey, blue and black for clothing.
         
Superpower:
Wind: Gayle, like her name implies, can call up and control winds. Some examples are:
- Tornado Force: Gayle has the potential to summon an F2 type gale that can uproot trees, flip cars and send people skidding on their backs.
((Area effect attack.  Roll at, and again each round you maintain it.  The first three rolls accumulate successes, which determine the damage it causes and the difficulty of keeping footing - i.e., 1st: 13 (total: 3).  2nd: 11 (total: 4).  3rd: 15 (total: 9) - after that, the wind holds steady at 9 until she fails a roll.  A failed roll disrupts the gale and it fizzles out; being injured calls for a roll to keep concentration, or the gale fizzles.  This is incredibly destructive, and terribly unselective.  Try not to catch your friends in it.))
- Controlled Blast: Gayle can also send precise shot of wind, accurately like gunfire. She can use these to knock down items, wind opponents like being suckerpunched in the gut, or any other number of blunt impact style attacks. It feels similar to a beanbag or rubber bullet round for those on the recieving end. She might not have the power to break bones with them, but she can certainly deal out hurt. ((+2 to hit, one shot per turn.  Kind of like getting hit with a rubber bullet or a football player.  Tends to knock people away.))
- Lift: Gayle can lift and guide to her small items, weighing under fifteen pounds. She must be in view of, or be able to see the item in some other manner to do this. ((Requires a roll and a turn.))

Mundane Skills:
- Level Headed: Gayle is from Chicago, and has a lot of common sense from growing up on the poorer streets, in the immigrant quarters. This keeps her not only on her toes and alert, but also always thinking for ways out of and around danger or conflicts. ((Skill: Streetwise, +1.  Roll to find/avoid dealers, anticipate danger, find a drainpipe, dodge bullies, etc.))
- Blending: Gayle has spent her whole life hiding who she is, hiding in crowds. A true wall flower, she can sink into the shadows and off the radar with little effort. Her diminutive stature also makes people overlook her as much younger than she is. ((Stealth +2))

Weakness:
- Tiring: Summoning the galeforce wind and sustaining it takes a lot out of Gayle. She can only do it for about ten minutes at maxium, and then usually blacks out if she pushes herself to that point.  ((After an extended use of the hurricane force wind (three rounds or more), she'll be at -1 on all rolls until she's had time to rest. VERY long use (ten rounds or more) will result in unconsciousness once the wind dies.))
- Inexperiance: This is her biggest weakness. Her power only emerged a few years ago, so she can't always make it do what she wants it to. Sometimes, nothing will happen when she tries to use them, and sometimes the exact opposite will happen of what she intended. She's a kid, and she's still learning. ((Critical failures on a 3 as well as a 2.  Critical failures will be Very Entertaining.))

History:
Gayle thought she was an average kid. She was always kind of small and skinny for her age, but some kids just are. And sometimes, when she was really mad, it would get windy. But that could just be coincidence. Until her twelfth birthday, when a few blue hairs sprouted in the widow's peak at the front of her hair. Over the years, they
developed into a thick azure streak, about six inches wide in her otherwise reddish brown straight locks. Two small stripes, ending in points and of the same color as her hair streak, also formed on each cheek and on either side of her neck during this same time. Desperate to remain normal, she covered these stripes with thick
makeup and tried without luck to dye the streak in her hair. Always an outcast for her size and poor immigrant family, she became more of one. She shrank in on herself and drew in like a turtle. Middle school finished at a pained crawl.

In highschool, Gayle excelled at class but still failed at making friends. She a had a few, other kids from the poor side of town who shared her hint of accent but not her secret. Then, the incident happened. As bigger kids will do, they often singled Gayle for abuse. This particular day, a senior pushed Gayle down a flight of stairs. But instead of falling, a massive whirlwind tore up the stairwell, pushing Gayle back to her feet. The other student ran away, shrieking about Masks.

Gayle was moved to a different school after that. She hid herself even more, gaining no new friends but graduating top of her class. She has no alter ego, no costume, and rarely uses her power unless she feels she's in danger. Perhaps if she had a mentor, another Mask, her powers could be worked to their full potential.
 
Equipment
Long Grey Overcoat
Palmtop Device (Older model, possibly nearing obsolete)
Wallet with School ID, and 18 bucks
Pocket Knife
Waterproof Watch (Like a Sport Timex)
Small Notepad Pad
Pen

Bonuses:
+2 Stealth
+2 Wind Blast
+1 Streetwise

Gayle has the Antero Seal of Superheroic Rockage


(In reality, she does have a nose. I just don't like drawing them. : p )

[Count PuPPula]

name: Ed Jasons
alias: The Cursed Hero
age: 35
height: 5'11"
ethnicity/nationality: Unknown/light brownish (found abandoned and then adopted)
religion: Brooding


appearance: In normal streetwear, the man known as Ed Marker just looks incredibly tired. As if the strain of day to day life has taken its toll far earlier than it should have. His short orange hair is showing strands of gray and he is skinny to the point of being unhealthy.

As a mask, his costume is completely black and form fitting. The only hint of light is on his face, where very faintly the shape of a skull can be seen.

curses:

pained empathy: Any unkind word, and violence performed, any act of cruelty, within a certain distance of Ed, he feels. While there is no lasting physical damage, a man taking a knife to the gut down the street from him, will leave him with the pain, until the man dies, is out of range, or is healed.
Constantly feeling the wounds of those around him, has given The Cursed an uncanny level of pain tolerance, able to stay focused and act where many would crumble to their knees. The fact that he can tolerate it, however, does not make it hurt any less, and he therefore takes unwarranted acts of violence very personally.   The range in which he feels the pain depends upon how strong the pain is, and how cruel the motive behind the pain was.
((Resistant to pain - 5 or below, rather than 6 or below, stuns))

death can wait: While The Cursed would like nothing more than to punish those that cause pain to the fullest extent possible, he finds himself limited. None can die by his hand, directly at least. While he has found this useful for interrogation purposes (although not exactly enjoyable when one feels every moment of the torture they inflict), sometimes he wishes he could just end some of the monsters that plague the street.
No matter how bloody a pulp he beats them to, they always survive, and more often than not, recover completely(in time). (("Fatal" blows lead to unconsciousness, rather than death, for foes.  Too bad he's not a goody goody.  Not a serious disadvantage unless you run into something that can also ignore pain and wounds short of death, and I'm sure I'd never do that to you.  He can still kill someone by accident, but it has to be a TRUE accident.  +2 to torture.))

the sad clown: Like the mask of legend, The Cursed emits rays of sadness. Anyone exposed to him for a prolonged period of time finds it incredibly hard to avoid a black, brooding depression. Ed can also focus this into a concentrated blast of sadness, if he tries.  ((All reactions at -2.  Can't get a date.  Boo hoo.  Sadness Blast is a non-damaging ranged attack that gives the target -2 for one round, -1 for the next, or stunned, -2, -1 if it's particularly successful.  This takes his whole round.))

near death experience: The constant pain The Cursed feels can never be ended by his own hands, directly at least. Any attempt at suicide that would have been successfu,l were he not cursed, leaves Ed in a state as near to death as possible, while his body repairs himself. The process usually takes less than a few hours, depending on the damage. His body does not repair itself at this speed to any other injury. ((Suicide is impossible.))

The Cursed has used this trick on occasion to fake his own death, or when he just needs rest and can't fucking get to sleep.

soul of the poet: Ed can only speak in rhyme. If what he has to say is too short to rhyme with itself, he has to rhyme it with whatever the person who spoke before him said.  ((To speak in high-stress situations (combat, frinstance), roll - a failure results in a choked stammer which may include only two words which must rhyme.  +2 rapping, due to practice.  People will think you odd unless you conceal it by rhyming with what they say.))

constant pain: When The Cursed is not protecting The Weak and punishing The Cruel, the pain builds. Reminding him that he should be out bustin' a mothafucka up. For brief periods the initial dull ache can be a respite from the pain he feels when beatin' down a thug or three, but if left unchecked, the pain grows to heights unbearable for even one as paintolerent as The Cursed. ((Over one day without a patrol or such, pain begins.  After three, all his actions are at -1.  After five, all his actions are at -2 and he must make his way home and into costume as quickly as possible or collapse screaming.))


gift:

path of the hero: When the Cursed performs tasks heroic in nature, he becomes better than a mere mortal. He is faster, tougher, harder to stop. The more heroic the action, the greater his strength. And not flashy melodrama. The intended result has to be heroic, not just the action.
Safe to say, as The Cursed is more focused on punishment and causing pain, this is a gift seldom used.  ((A Heroic Task will give him +1 on everything, or +2 if it's Incredibly Heroic.  Beating down thugs will be very unlikely to give you a bonus.  Saving children from a burning building would.))

mundane skills:
Although he doesn't look it, Ed is one though SOB. He also knows a lot about the best places on the body to cause pain, because he has felt every blow he's ever dealt to his adversaries. He has developed this knowledge into his own cruel fighting style. He is proficient with handguns.  ((+1 melee attack effect, +1 health/dodge effect, +1 to all combat rolls.  His attacks are more likely to stun in melee.)

mundane weaknesses:
The Cursed is Deathly allergic to Strawberries.  ((Strawberries cause anaphylactic reaction.  He has to carry a hypodermic at all times, just in case.  Serious strawberry exposure will eat up three rounds as he tends to himself, which he must begin within the next six rounds or else he'll collapse and, eventually, die.))

relevant history:
 Ed Jasons was fourteen when his powers revealed themselves, and he became arguably the most powerful superhuman in history. Other supers with the power to bend reality had come before him, but he doubted any to such an extent. Ed's power was pretty much limitless, effectively making him a god. Yet, his mind was still human, and such power would have destroyed it. In an attempt to save itself, Ed's mind manifested his powers as a separate being. A genie.

Ed was surprised to find this apparition floating in his room, as he woke from a nightmare in which he was ripped in half by two chariots. It was vaguely shaped like a man. A man made of mist. Although the form was hard to make out unless he squinted.

"What..?" Asked Ed.
The Genie spoke, the mist parting wear a mouth would be, were it truly human. "Master." It said. "I am here to grant your every desire."
"..." Said Ed. Then he continued. "What?"
"What is your wish, Master? You need only speak it, and it shall be."
Ed raised an eyebrow. "Oh I get it." Said he. "This is one of those dreams where you think you're awake but really your asleep while dreaming that you're awake but you're sleeping and you being awake is really the dream."
"..." Said the Genie. Then he continued. "What?"
"Nevermind." Said Ed, looking at the book of mythology that rested on his bedside table. "You know what. I've never dreamed of being The Cursed Hero. These stories are full of them. I tell you what, genie my dream, I wish I was the cursed hero."
The apparition bowed its head. "It is done, Master."
"Good." Said Ed. "Now, I wish you gone, so I can enjoy my dream in peace."
The mist that was a genie, the power to bend reality itself, existed no more.
"I didn't realize how quickly you would cease." Said Ed. He wasn't sure why he said the last, he only knew he had felt an irresistible urge to rhyme.

He wondered why he was starting to hurt.

Five Years Later

The Cursed Hero stood over the unconsious, bleeding bodies of the men he had just felled, and the body of the five year old girl they had beaten to death. These men, he knew, would recover, due to his condition. The little girl though. He had been to late. He had felt everything the men had done to her, the horror she felt with every ounce of perverted violence they had inflicted unto her. And then it had just stopped.

He had beaten the men until the pain they felt was so terrible, that even Ed couldn't stand it. And then he had beaten them further. He was hoping the fates would let him, if he tried hard enough, overcome his limitations and end these bastards forever.

But they would survive. The child was gone and they would survive.

He looked down at her limp form, her blue dress, once shiny and bright, now dulled by her own dried blood. He spied the paper crown she wore, proclaiming her The Birthday Girl.

She was gone, and these bastards would recover.

He was no hero, he thought, he was just cursed.

The Cursed turned and walked silently out of the alley.

equipment:

on his person
The Cursed Costume (as tough and resiliant a weave as he could find/afford, although not nearly as bulletresistant as he'd like. It offers Ed minor protection from some external sources.), hidden under his regular street clothes, composed of a large sweatshirt, jacket, baggy pants, and shoes.
His Jacket pockets contain: Credit Card,
ID

Secreted in his costume are two handguns and a knife of some sort. ((That's right. SOME SORT. You know. Standard kind of weapon type things and I'm not even going to try to pretend I know anything about weapons this time. I just don't. Okay? STOP STARING AT ME.))


in his one bedroom apartment:
Bed and chairs and bathroom and stuff. Decorative stuff. Pans and pots and junk. A gas oven/cooker. Refrigerator. All the regular apartment stuff.
A cat called Snuffy.
A computer of somesort. ((Yes. OF SOME SORT. I HATE WRITING OUT EQUIPMENT, SHUT UP.)) That can connect to whatever type of internet typ deal is going on in this so-called universe.

In a bank account:
((a standard nontwinky amount of money for this universe, because I don't know anything about the currency and I hate writing about equipment and I JUST WANNA GO HOME STOP LOOKING AT ME))

The End

Connexxxxions
Le Cursed has occasionally come into contact with the mask known as Hivemouth. While The Cursed is hesitant to trust anything other than his own pain and misery, he has found him a sufficient ally when the situation gets hairy.

Bonuses
+1 combat
+1 melee effect
+1 dodge effect
+2 rapping
+2 torture
No stun on a 6 dodge
More stun from hand to hand successes
-2 social reactions
Will Never Kill

The Cursed has the Antero Seal of Superheroic Rockage

((That's right, PuPP.  You're playing one of the team tanks.))

[K]

Character Name and Alias: Father Alastair Kane, born Patrick Flynn, alias Absolution

Age: 42

Sex: Male

Height: 6'3"

Nationality/Ethnicity/Religion: American/Irish/Roman Catholic

Appearance: Alastair is an imposing, intense-looking Catholic priest. He wears, of course, the traditional coat and collar of a man of the cloth. His green eyes scream of both wisdom and unbridled dedication. His hair is greying and smoothed back smartly. He is known for his fiery, impassioned sermons about ending evil and corruption wherever one can, and is frighteningly persuasive and charismatic from the pulpit.

Absolution wears the same priest's garb, but also dons a smiling cherub mask with a longish white wig attached, concealing his entire head.

Superpower: Alastair is blessed with an acute control of time. There are several prominent effects of this.

Timesense - Alastair perceives time at a different rate than most people. To him, seeing the world is like watching film from a high-speed camera at normal speed. Films are like slideshows, time limits on questions are practically irrelevant, and fighting is like a game of chess.  ((Anything that would normally be difficult to see due to speed, Alastair has no difficulty watching.  His timesense gives him +1 to all dodges, and an additional +1 to ranged attacks (+2 total - he is effectively Always Aiming, and gets no additional bonus from further aiming).  He also does not have penalties for shooting in odd circumstances where aiming would be disrupted - say, jumping off of a balcony, or hanging on to the roof of a speeding automobile.))

Metabolic Control - Alastair has the ability to manipulate the rate of metabolic processes in his own or another's body. As a result, wounds can heal naturally very quickly, and in the mean time, the subject experiences a burst of energy, leading to temporarily enhanced speed, strength, and stamina. Of course, this has an after-effect of fatigue and hunger on the subjest, so it must be used wisely. On the opposite side of the coin, when a wound needs actual medical attention, (that is, when natural healing would have no effect) Alastair can slow metabolic processes to a near halt, putting the subject into a sort of stasis until they can be treated.  ((To put one of these into effect, Alastair must concentrate - he can still dodge, but not attack.  Increase: Subject feels a rush of strength and gets +2 dodge, +1 melee attack, and +1 melee effect.  Wounds will also heal faster if he maintains it for a long time.  On the downside, when he lets go they'll be tired as hell: for a normal combat use, they'll be at -1 on all rolls until they rest for the equivalent of ten rounds.  If it was long-maintained (giving a week's worth of healing in a single night's vigil) they'll be exhausted, and be unable to take any actions save sleep and eat.  Using on a badly wounded friend is not a good idea.  Decrease: Subject loses consciousness, going into a state of suspended animation as long as his concentration is maintained.  This can stabilize them long enough to get them medical attention, etc.  Wounds, poisons, and drugs will still be in effect when they wake.  If he uses it on himself, he maintains barely enough awareness to tell when his wounds have been tended to.))

Advantages?:

Man of the Cloth - Alastair is a well-known preacher, especially in his home [INSERT GAME SETTING] area. His sermons tend to be very strict, but at the same time, his focus is very different from other hardline preachers. He tends to focus not on telling people what or how to think, but rather urging them to fight evil and corruption where they find it. His focus is on what he considers to be the greater ills of society; homosexuality and abortion, while immoral in his eyes, are never topics of his sermons. As a result, he's known for having a very upright and just flock who do more than their part to help the community, forming large crime watches and the such. This reputation often grants him favor and influence to a degree when not Masked and talking to someone who supports his efforts.  ((As the preacher of a small sect's church, he may ask his flock for small favors when he is in their area, or rely on their protection. They will not die for him, nor supply him limitlessly. His preacher status and sect may find him friends in some cases, and enemies in others.))

Doing God's Work - God has spoken to Alastair directly, telling him his lot in life.* Because of this, he knows he's doing the right thing. This grants him a conviction and dedication to his work (both Masked and not) that is nearly unparalleled in the world. One who tries to manipulate Alastair from his path will find it nearly impossible, and to even discourage him through fear, evasiveness, or other such things would be very difficult. ((Plus: No fear will ever sway him from his mission - he can still feel fear, of course, but he will soldier on. Minus: It's extremely difficult to keep him from killing criminals, and he has no realistic conception of his own power, great as it is - it takes serious convincing to get him to rationally consider the odds against him, because He's Doing God's Work.))

*God may not have actually spoken to Alastair. See below.

Disadvantages:

I Think You're Craaaazaaaay - Alastair knows that God has spoken to him... but come on, what do you think when anyone else claims that? There's the possibility - the possibility - that Alastair is just a fun kind of schizophrenic. If he is, though, it's very acute, as it's just God that's talking to him. But maybe he is talking to God... either way, he knows well enough to not talk about it, and simply has faith. ((Alastair is, ultimately, a schizophrenic serial killer with a thing for criminals. He does not realize this. Other people will rather quickly if they have the chance. Do not let him be arrested, because they will medicate him and it will not be pretty when God disappears. He is at -2 to see through illusions and hallucinations, because he is already prone.))

History (abridged):

Patrick Flynn was born to a caring but strictly religious family. He was raised with a strong sense of justice and morality. Or course, he didn't realize at the time that his timesense was expanded, as That's Just The Way The World Was.

At the age of 13, God spoke to Patrick, telling him of his differences from others (something which he had been pondering anyways) and informing him that this was a Gift that he would eventually use to help serve the Lord and humanity. Patrick soon showed a great interest in joining the clergy.

As Patrick neared the age of 25, and thus neared acceptance into the clergy, God came to him again, telling him the full nature of his duty. The world, God said, was corrupted by sin. Everywhere, evil men roamed free, and affront to God. The legal system did what it could to punish these evil men, but the laws and powers of Man could only go so far. A greater power in accordance to a higher law was the only hope for the world, the only way to purge it of the sinners that corrupted it. And of these sinners, God said, there are varying degrees. The unbelievers, the sodomites, the blasphemers, these were lesser sinners whose evils were minor, whose judgement need not be hastened. They were to pass by Patrick unharmed. But the murderers, the rapists, the traitors, the fraudulent, they were greater sinners whose deeds had hastened their appointment with fate. Their existence tainted the world, and Patrick was not to suffer them to live. But beware, warned God, that humanity would not accept this punishment by one man, for they were so accustomed to their legal system that they were not ready to accept the direct laws and justice of God. Do your work in secrecy, God said, and do not be found, but do not stop until the great sinners are no more.

And then God left, and Patrick contemplated his charge.

A short while later, he became Father Alastair Kane, named for his purpose, and began to prepare for his crusade.

In five years' time, the killings began, and the sinners (also, conveniently, criminals under human law) felt fear.

Absolution was coming, purging the sins of Man.

Equipment - Mask:
Matched pair of EAA Witness "Gold Custom" .45s
Knife of some sort
Large-ish silver cross on chain

Equipment - Normal:
Pocket bible
Wallet with ID and some cash

Bonuses
+1 combat
+2 for guns
-2 vs. Illusion

Absolution has the Antero Seal of Superheroic Rockage

((In any normal setting, the fanatical killer would be the VILLAIN. Welcome to Hellhound On My Trail.))

[machiavelli33]

Name: once known as Akbar Raj Ninaktur

Age: Uncertain, though no older than thirty

Sex: Conceivably Male

Height: 6'

Weight: Inconsistent

Nationality: Conceivably Indian

Alias: Hivemouth

Appearance: The Hivemouth.  A man of moderate height, covered in a long, filthy, dirtied trench coat that hides all of his body down to his knees.  This coat is always kept tightly closed by the worn and stained belt looped around the waist.
Atop the head is a black snap-brim hat.  He is never seen without it.
Over his face is a bright white Plague Doctor's mask.  The flawless, beaked porcelain surface is marred only by the eyes, inset with glistening crystal, twisted and crushed so that the eyes wept every moment of the day, and the black painted lines of stylized tears trailing down the sides of the mask.
Centipedes, ants and spiders crawl over various parts of his body, over his chest and belly, along his wrists and over his gloves, but never over his mask. A small cloud of gnats and mosquitos surround his head.  He exudes a hideous stench of rotted meat and a difficult to identify sickly sweet underneath this.

Mundane Appearance:
When not roaming the street, Hivemouth takes off his mask and hat and becomes yet another of the city's countless homeless.
His refuge- a run down shack of drug junkies and the homeless insane in the dirtiest and most broken parts of town.

Superpower:  (("What's your superpower?" "My organs are BEEEEEES"))
Hivemouth's body is dead.  Every organ save for his lungs, his still-functioning muscles, and his brain no longer function like they are supposed to and have become no more than fleshy, pustulent sacs hanging inside his body.

Instead, his organs have become host to hundreds upon thousands of insects.  Thousands of species of crawling, squirming and flying creatures make their home inside the Hivemouth's body.

He controls them.  All insects heel to his mental command, not in the least those that he holds in his belly.  He can call them forth to do as he will...a swarm of ants, a host of flies, a flock of black widow spiders, or simply a black carpeted inundation of crawling and flying insects. 
When summoned, these insects come swarming out from countless holes that have been eaten in his body. 

In return, Hivemouth gives the insects the air he breathes,  all of the food that he eats, and his body as a vessel for them to live within.

((General power: Insect Control.  Various attacks and uses are possible.  Examples:
-Hand strike with poisonous insects, ignores armor, does poison damage (which can range from "irritating" to "fatal"
-Foes trapped in a larger swarm are hit automatically, you just roll for damage (or distraction effect) - Bees and mosquitos move fast, of course, and engulfing someone in spiders is slower.
-Scouting!
-Cleaning up biological evidence
-Creeping people out

Insects in his body may be made up of any commonly found in the area, though only so much of each; emphasis on urban pests, decay agents, and swarming things.

Controlling the insects requires his attention; he can't fire a gun and direct a swarm, for example, nor can he issue complex commands while running (though "follow me" would certainly work)))

Advantages:
-The buzzing of the hives, the constant skittering of legs and fluttering of wings and the minute vibrations of the countless eggs being laid and hatched in his body have destroyed his ability to rest normally.  Hivemouth does not sleep.  Over time his mind has rotted, parts replaced by the noxious insectile chemicals stemming from his body, and he ((no longer needs to sleep.))

-The constant chewing and regurtitation of parts of his body to dissolve and rebuild portions of his organs and flesh has dulled and destroyed all but the most fundamental of nerves in his body.  Hivemouth cannot feel pain in any conventional way, but can still feel pressure and force. ((Stuns on a 5 or less.  Will only have near-death penalties from structural damage, not simply "oh I got stabbed.))

-The ants, termites and bees in his body are constantly in motion, working to fulfill their primordial desire to maintain and build.  His body as their home, they will slowly but surely repair any damage that is inflicted on the Hivemouth's body with their own bio fluids.  ((Fast healing.  Even hideous wounds will heal (hideously) in a short time, without medical care (what could they do, after all?)))

Disadvantages:
-While his bone is still strong, the flesh that clings to it is ultimately frail, moreso than that of a normal human beings', being as it is pockmarked with termite holes, worm canals, and worked and reworked over and over again by the efforts of the insects contained within.  ((-1 dodge effect.

OTHER ODD DAMAGE EFFECTS:
Even hideously cold weather does nothing but make him sluggish, giving him -1 to dodge and making his insects less than useful.
Fire damage is -2 for Hivemouth, because it kills his bugs.
Targeting his organs will fail to add any damage.
Avoid Raid.
If all his bugs leave his body, he'll collapse, conscious but immobile.))

-Hivemouth exudes an impossible to ignore scent of rotting meat, underneath with is an even thicker, more nauseous veneer of sickly ichorous sweet.  While he can draw the insects crawling on his body inside of him to become less physically noticable, the stink that surrounds him is inescapable. ((-3 to all social interaction rolls.  Can't enter nice shops and restaurants, nor can he get a date.  Corp cops may choose to forcibly eject him from their beats even when he's in street clothes.  You will never get more than a neutral response - even your cohorts might trust and defend you, but few would invite you out for a beer.))

Mundane Skills:
-Throwing objects with accuracy and precision.
((That was unexpected.  +1 to throw... anything.

ALSO!  +3 to ENTYMOLOGY!  Because his organs are beeeeeeees!))

History:
Named after the great Mughal Emperor Akbar, Akbar Raj Ninaktur was born to Sind Mullah and Rajita Ninaktur. 
His father a computer programmer and his mother a tapestry weaver, Akbar's life was one of introspection.  Quiet and thoughtful, he turned his silent musings to painted and digitally colored images via the medium of art. 
His parents had slipped through life as sheep in the flock. His father slaved and sold his soul to earn the majority of the family's small wages, but as a cog in a wheel far larger than himself, was never thanked for his hard work, neither in money nor in commendations.
Idyllic, Akbar's childhood was not.  His status as a young, strapping boy was quickly ground under the fast emerging realities of life, and by seventeen he was fast on his way to becoming a white-eyed civilian, doomed as his father and mother were to be a nothing in society.  Only his art, and the small appreciations garnered from those who saw it kept him from draining away into nothingness.  In school he was equally quiet, keeping to his art classes and his studies.  He shared a class with Gayle Leychek and was nearby when her power first manifested, sending her on her way to becoming the girl known as Mistral.  That day he drew a picture of a beautiful blue-haired girl sitting on the crest of a hill, staring upwards as white and blue clouds drifted overhead.
It was a spark of hope that the veil of gray that had been drawn over the low, gray hills of existence that ultimately changed it all.
Akbar's father, Sind Mullah, ran across a strange man.  He wore a long coat and a strange mask with a sorrowful face to hide his features.  The man pulled Akbar's father into an alley and made him an offer he could not pass up- a chance to earn his family a place out of mundanity.
It was simple.  There was money to be coming in from a location outside of the country.  All that needed to happen was to accept the money into his bank account, then transfer it away to another account located in Switzerland.  In other words, money laundering.
$10,000 US offered up front sealed the deal.  The risks were high, but Akbar's father was willing to risk his own life to give his family a better life.
The set up was flawless.  Unknown arrangements made by the strange man assured that the authorities could not possibly find out about the millions of dollars that were flowing through Sind Mullah's bank accounts and for years, they were in the clear. 
The family bought themselves a new home on a glorious plot of land, and both Sind Mullah and his wife were able to find more lucrative work in the city.

These sorts of stories never have happy endings.

An anonymous caller tipped the police off to the flow of cash moving through Akbar's father's bank account. 
Shortly after, Sind Mullah's bank account was suspended, and the police raided his home. 
Matters escalated to a dangerous level of panic and already high tensions snapped as one of the policeman, in a blaze of enthusiasm, opened fire during the raid.
Both of Akbar's parents were killed.
His mother and father dead and his home destroyed, Akbar fled.  Hiding in the streets, refusing to show his face, holing himself away in dumpsters and frigid alleys, he avoided the police's efforts to bring him in as they sought to find him and put him in an orphanage.
But he was a suburban boy, with little ability to survive in the cracked city streets.  Countless frigid and hungry nights meshed with unsanitary conditions in alleyways, numerous beatings by gangs, and one too many close brushes with the police found the eighteen year old Akbar, four months after his escape, curled up and alone in an empty brick-lined alleyway.  Torn rags and jeans his only clothing, a battered and stained blanket his only source of warmth, a belly that hasn't seen food for days, and disease trembling his hands and feet, Akbar lay before the feet of Death, minutes from a fate shared by innumerable amounts of the homeless and neglected.

As he lay, in his delirium and shivering, he looked up and saw a figure standing before him.  The man was tall and wore a long coat.  His face was covered in a strange white mask bearing a sorrowful face.
And the figure to him said,

"For the first time and the last time thou here beholdest Me, as if I never appeared. Thou shalt build a Kingdom and in it a Temple. And as a Ruler thou shalt traverse the field of life, bearing within thy spirit and thy soul the Temple."

Akbar didn't understand.  But one day he would.

"The help of heaven crawls over the earth. Let only the eye and ear be open."

When he looked up again, the man was gone.  Moments later, Akbar Raj Ninaktur died.

Five weeks his body lay, an unknown motionless rag-wrapped lump of flesh an anonymous alleyway slowly rotting to pieces, and collecting bugs and dirt and maggots.

Then in the sixth week, the day before the first day of November, Akbar's body vanished.  No one would know that it had gone.

Connections, for clarity, as not all are mentioned in history:
-While still alive as Akbar Ninaktur, he attended high school with Gayle Leychek, who would eventually become Mistral, though with a gap of several grades...exactly how many is unclear.
-As a vigilante who is seen most frequently in the poorest, most dangerous areas of the city, Hivemouth has brushed with law enforcement forces due to the questionable legality and the disturbing nature of his actions.  This has earned him a sizable profile with the police, and a special folder in the files of investigator Frank Adams, aka "Playback."
-is on Absolution's sinners watchlist
-He has encountered Ed Jasons aka "The Cursed" regularly while on patrol through various parts of the city...while they have seldom spoken, Hivemouth displays what appears to be a silent respect for The Cursed's plight, and his goals.

Equipment:
-Coat
-Hat
-Pants
-Shoes
-Mask
-Long metal syringes
-Six stiletto knives

"Can you see the gates of heaven?  Writhing in my palms.  Shimmering beneath my skin.  These pits and papillations have kissed the infinate gray heathers of death.  Climb the sixth stair, ascend, see what I have seen, thou unworthy, and let the flies guide your soul into the sweetened arms of oblivion."

Bonuses:
+1 throw
-3 social
-1 dodge effect (-2 vs. fire)
stun on 5 or less
+3 Entymology

Hivemouth has the Antero Seal of Superheroic Rockage and is totally fucking gross

If you submit Pusman and the Jizzinator I'm totally going to kick your ass.

[LrsDude]

Character Name and Alias: Chris Hiller AKA Feather Fall
Age: 25
Sex: M
Height, and weight: 5'11", 170 pounds
Nationality/Ethnicity/Religion: Born in Arizona, White, TV.

Appearance: Brown eyes, medium shot unstyled brown hair, average looking. 
Mundane Clothes: Dark-gray sweat-shirt over a t-shirt, jeans and dirty but white basketball shoes, that are springy in the heel. (At least, that's how the shoes are advertised.)
Costume so far: A black beanie with holes cut in it, (can be pulled down over the face as a mask or worn like a regular beanie,) a faded black-cloth jacket with a few colorful patches sewn on the front for color, black sweatpants and the same dirty athletic shoes.

Superpower: Chris has the ability to suppress his immediate gravity. That is, he can decrease the amount of gravity pulling on himself and things he touches. (People, objects.) This does not translate to flying for two reasons. First, while he can make himself lighter than air, this makes him about as effective of a flier as a helium balloon. Second, falling up makes his stomach turn over, it throws him off and freaks him out. He has nightmares about falling into space and asphyxiating; and as a rule, never goes lighter than air unless it's to stick safely to a ceiling. He does use his powers to perform leaps which look like they could only be achieved with wires, near-weightlessly leaping in near-horizontal lines. Once in the air, outside of altering his weight, he is completely subject to inertia. He can extend his powers through touch, but they weaken as they spread. He could keep himself and another person in the air, but two other people and he would drift downward. He could do some pretty sweet jumps on a vespa or motorcycle, but a Civic falling 30 feet would land roughly, and a van falling the same distance would almost certainly crack the oil-pan and need major repairs.
((Featherfall can avoid all falling damage automatically; if he lightens himself, he can leap insane distances and climb at high speeds up surfaces with little in the way of handholds.  He also floats in water - no fear of drowning.  +3 to jumping, acrobatics, and climbing.  He can also run at surprising speeds, lightening his body and making huge strides.  He can extend this power as well, though it requires phsyical contact.  If he's lightened, he also has +1 vs. horizontal blunt attacks (fists, cars), since he'll basically be sent flying away before taking significant damage.

Also, his most effective attack would be to leap towards a foe lightened and resturn his gravity as he strikes... and bounce away to other foes.  His hand-to-hand range is effectively 20', and such a full-force attack would have +1 damage, but missing can fuck him up))

Superweakness: Chris' powers are completely worthless -if not dangerous to himself- when conditions are windy, or even strongly breezy. ((Breezes will shift his direction, strong winds can send him shooting like a bullet.  Also, blows send him flying))

History: Chris grew up in Arizona, where he led a regular childhood. He had two regular parents, and a sister four years younger than him. In middle school, his powers began to emerge. He was showing much promise as a basketball player. (Good hangtime, but not so much that anyone realized it was superhuman.) However, in private, Chris realized the true nature of his athletic prowell, and then quit the team. Fearing his own powers, he grew up underachieving, afraid to shine. Trying to be normal, he subconsciously held back through his adolescence; and fewer ambitions led to fewer accomplishments.

Today, Chris lives in (whatever city this thing is set in). He lives in a small apartment with one other roommate and works behind the counter at a gas station. Intermittently speaking with a therapist, (mentioning his powers only in metaphor,) he feels that running away from his powers for so long was indeed
the reason he took less risks growing up, and he has now resolved to cautiously explore that side of himself.

In his mind he calls himself Feather Fall, a name pulled from his rudamentary knowledge of D&D. His costume is hardly a costume, consisting of dark clothes to help him move stealthily at night, and basketball shoes to supposedly give him more lift. He actually looks very much like a burgular, although he has a few colorful patches sewn on the front of his jacket to show he's a good guy. In recent nights he has practised the odd skill of aiming low-gravity jumps as he bounds around town, but he can only go as fast as his running starts propel him, so he doesn't cover much ground. Realizing the limits his own powers would have in any type of superhero activity, he's hoping to team up with someone who could show him the ropes as well as compliment his powers. As well as look good in spandex... maybe a firey redhead. He wishes.

Equipment:

A foot-long thin plastic shaft that was part of a children's bow&arrow set, it has a big clear-red suction cup on the end that sticks longer if you lick it.
Ring of keys w/ house key, Honda Civic key, and bottle opener.
Cell phone
Wallet w/ ID, atm card, and various store membership cards. Feather Fall carries less than $50 in cash.

Bonuses:
+3 Jumping, Climbing, & Acrobatics
+1 dodge effect while lightened vs. blunt
+1 attack effect when charging
+2 to basketball, Most Impressive Dunks Ever.
+2 with the suction bow (or later replacements), but only appropriate surfaces can be targeted, and from reasonable angles.  You can't stick it to concrete, for example.

Featherfall has the Antero Seal of Superheroic Rockage

[mjmremix]

Character Name/Alias:  Hen Goodman/Mr. Smiles
Age: 25
Sex: Male
Height/Weight: 5'7"/170lbs
Nationality/Ethnicity/Religion: Born in Canadia(Vancouver)/Caucasian/Catholic

Appearance Hen as his normal persona looks like a pretty normal guy.  Hence the 'normal persona' look.  Anyways, he usually dresses in a business suit or is moderately dressed up.  He has a cubicle job and stares at a screen most of his day, but he looks pretty good doing it.  He has lighter brown hair with brown eyes and has an average figure. 

'Costume': Mr. Smiles looks like a clown.  The makeup indicates he is an unhappy clown.  He has white face paint on and there is a black line indicating that his mouth goes down instead of upwards, like most clowns.  He does not wear funny, irregular-sized shoes.  He does not have frizzy or strange hair.  He doesn't even have suspenders.  He /does/ have on a black shirt and a pair of black pants, giving one the impression that he is either a)a mugger, b)some sort of clown/mime, or c)some new goth type.  Continuing with the /does/ have: He has a black bowler hat that sits on top of his bald head(don't ask how he goes from haired to bald, it's very complicated), and a pair of dark brown steel-toed boots.  This gives him an overall look of a mime having a bad day with intent of kicking someone very hard in the shin.

Superpower(s): Most people looking at Mr. Smiles would think 'Oh, he's a mime', but they would be stereotyping and WRONG.  Mr. Smiles doesn't do any of that 'trapped in a box' shit.  People do what he does. 
-Generally he needs eye contact with the target, but if they are obviously looking at him this might be void.  ((To capitvate a target, they must be watching him intently (as in an audience or surveillance) or make eye contact.  He must then roll - precise bonus/penalty depends on the will of the person targeted, with an Average Joe being a +2 bonus, since the Average Joe is a weak-willed consumer whore.))
-By performing an action with his limbs, saying something, or in any way doing something, the target mimics /him/ if they fail to resist his power. ((Self explanatory.  They will move and speak as one.  He also keeps a slight awareness of them: he can turn his back and the power will persist for 1d4+1 turns, and he can act at -1 from their perspective.))
-To a lesser extent, if Mr. Smiles makes the effort, he can impress his mood unto others as well.  (Since this doesn't make the target(s) do anything they might not want to do it can affect multiple people including allies) ((A successful roll (+2) broadcasts his current emotional state; successes determine range.  Area effect.))

SuperAnnoyance: Mr. Smiles hates being called a clown /or/ a mime because he does not do either for a profession.  It's the makeup and general look that let him focus his power.  If he didn't have to put on makeup to do it he really wouldn't. (Suppressing his Mask has given him the disadvantage of needing a foci to use his powers.  If he didn't live in a crime-filled city it's quite possible that he would a)go completely batshit and have a mental struggle, b)let one side take over, or c)forget he ever had powers and become normal(the worst bane of any superhero if you ask me)  ((In an effort to reconcile his powers with his personal identity, his Mask self has been split off, with the make-up as a focus for his neurosis.  This is entirely psychological.))

History: Hen is really any average joe on the surface.  He's decent with computers and he had a fairly plain and boring childhood.  His powers first activated when he was a child and being fairly impulsive.  Stuff like wishing so-and-so would go away or get in trouble.  Sometimes it happened.  Growing up and going to school made him kind of forget about things like that.  He just wanted to be normal and pushed it out of his mind.  Masks don't give up easily though.

You see, Hen has gone through the stage of denial that he has powers, and is straight on the other side.  He has his normal self, and then when his powers want to happen, they do.  Mr. Smiles is not at all like Hen.  Hen is a nice guy, and pretty sociable.  Mr. Smiles is a jackass that does nasty things to nasty people. 

Mr. Smiles pretty much dominates Hen's body when a situation arises that might require his powers.  Hen just loses the memory of where he went or what he did(like a blackout) and goes somewhere to change.  /Sometimes/ Mr. Smiles is nice and lets Hen change back when he's at home.  Most of the time Hen finds himself in a restroom in a random part of the city wondering how he got there.  ((The two sides are vaguely aware of each other, to the point where Hen could willingly let the Mask out by applying makeup... this is not common, though.  Also, he has a strong sense of direction - +2 to find his way around strange places - since he's had to find his way home so often.))

Mr. Smiles tends to take active interest in other Masks or freaks.  Whatever people call themselves nowadays.  Luckily enough for Hen, his job requires him to travel occasionally and he has a great attendence record(meaning he has some sick days and vacation time saved up).  The most likely way for Hen to be involved in the plot is to find out about another Mask either through reading news on the computer, seeing it on the TV, etc and then Mr. Smiles scheduling a trip to try and meet the other person.

Equipment:
Laptop computer for work.
Cell phone.
Keys to home and vehicular transportation.
Switchblade(Hen doesn't know/remember why he keeps this on him...)
-Mr. Smiles when not using his powers tends to use his fists or some kind of melee weapon.  Probably improvised or commonly found.  Sometimes Hen is holding onto a broken table leg and doesn't know why.  ((No penalty for improvised weapons))

Bonus:
+2 Emotional Broadcast
+2 Lassie Come Home!


Thanks to TMisha
Mr. Smiles has the Antero Seal of Superheroic Rockage.

[Kelric]

Character Name and Alias: Sarah Anders aka The Queen of Spades

Age: 27

Superpower: The absorbtion, expulsion, and manipulation of rock, stone, and earth.

Superlimitations: Her power is notusable on concrete ((Concrete takes a long time to convert to useable materials))  However, the rocks found /inside/ of concrete can be used, as well as bricks or blocks cut or pressed out of stone, like sandstone.  Pottery is also usable.

Super Abilities:  ((Oh fucking Christ you totally listed every single possible use of this power that you could think of, didn't you.))

Heavenly Body; Earthly Frame - The Queen's most common ability is also her mask.  She extrudes rock and earth that she has kept within her body to create a form fitting armor that covers her entire body.  It is flexible due to the mix of earth, while strong and resistent due to the rocks and stone.

Rock Riding; Earthly Diving - The Queen can form and ride a wave of earth and rock.  She must carry all of this earth and rock within her body, unless she is on an open, abundent source of it.  She can also dive into earth and stone, and literally swim through it.

Earth's Keen Hearing - The queen can keep a general sense of where people or things are around her, due to the sonic vibrations that pass through the ground, and can almost hear words.  This falls off with distance.

Earth's Eager Attraction - While wearing her armor, the Queen is grounded while she maintains physical contact with the ground, buildings, etc.  While far more likely to be hit by electrical attacks ((Nonferrous!)), lightning, electricity, it harmlessly passes into the ground.  ((A direct hit from something like lightning is still going to fuck you up (it ionizes the air, remember) but you're effectively insulated, letting you grab live wires and ignore tasers.

Earth's Sweet Kiss - The Queen positions sharp and heavy rocks onto her arms, legs, feet, and hands to deliver extra damage with each blow she strikes. 

Earth's Tender Caress - The Queen can cause spikes of earth and rock to explode up out of the ground, stabbing, slashing and pummeling those who stand near it, by compressing and shoving earth and stone in a localized direction through the ground.  Doing so through things like streets is quite a bit more difficult, depending on how thick of an object she must smash through.  She can do this at a fairly decent range.

Earth's Loving Embrace - When holding, or grappling with someone, the Queen can drag that person into the ground with her, burying them alive if she so chooses.  She must be in contact with earth or stone with sufficient area to do so.

Earth's Quivering Body - By rapidly circulating earth and stone through her body and the nearby ground, the Queen can cause small, localized tremors to occurs.  This affects nearby objects within a certain radius of her, and can cause people to lose their balance, fall, or just make taking actions more difficult for them.

Earth's Satisfying Climax - By rapidly shoving and absorbing earth and stone around her, the Queen can destablize the area around her, causing the earth to litterally roll like the waves of the ocean.  While doing so, however, the spot she is standing or moving on remains remarkably passive.  The rolling, bucking waves of earth make movement and fighting quite difficult.  The rapidly altering elevations also make aiming and long distance attacks more difficult.  Nearby objects like streets may be cracked or broken if they are caught within its ranges, and trees could possibly be uprooted.

((Okay, let's go through this one thing at a time.  The Queen of Spades has the ability to absorb and extrude rock and earth, much as the King did with metal.  She can encase herself in earth to form armor, which is protective but slowing, and she can break your face in with heavy rock fists.  She can slide through earth and stone easily at about walking pace (running pace in dirt, very slowly through concrete), but she can't breathe down there, nor can she see out.  Be careful. 

She can't hear through earth - that would require an independent sensory power.  Burying a foe alive is possible on appropriate ground, but it takes more than one turn and they may object to this process (resisted roll)

More dramatic earth effects, such as localized tremors and jagged spikes, are possible - it would effectively be a tripping ranged attack, with spikey doom possible if you're on some scary fucking landscape... but they take time for true drama, and she needs direct contact with earth or appropriate stone.  Asphalt is right out (it's covered in tar) and concrete is too slow to absorb to accomplish such drama. 

Because of the steel-and-concrete nature of modern cities, and your limited supply of Personal Dirt, your most dramatic powers will require you to run about searching for a decent patch of dirt.  To succeed as more than a fighter, you will have to rely more on clever, gradual manipulation of the area around you, rather than BOOM!  Blow shit up.  Yes, you unintentionally gave yourself a big limitation.))

Mundane Abilities:

Brawling The Queen has spent years practicing hand to hand combat.  This makes her quite effective at beating the hell out of someone, while dodging incoming attacks.

History: Coming from a family of masks isn't the easiest thing to do.  And Sarah comes from a long line of them.  At least five members of her family have been active superheros, so she has a lot to live up to.  She's inherited the responsibility of looking after Chicago from her Father, the Ace of Spades   Not that she can necessarily look after it all at the same time.  She is only one mask after all, and its one big city. ((Due to her family history, she has a good deal of knowledge - she can roll at +1 to recall information about pretty much any public super in history))

While not protecting the innocent and putting foot to badguy ass, she works in a flower shop, trying to spread the joy of plants and nature to everyone.....especially the husbands and boyfriends who almost forgot their loved one's birthdays.....and Valentine's Day.

Equipment:

Cellphone
carkeys
pocket notebook
pen
wallet

Quote: My, my, my, mother nature is really pissed off now.

Bonuses
Armor: +2 dodge effect, -1 dodge success due to weight.  +2 dodge effect means that weak attacks may have no effect.  If you have access only to dirt, effect bonus is only +1. 
Fists of Stone give +1 melee effect.
+1 hand-to-hand attack
-3 to guns, as, coming from a line of superheroes, she was taught the honorable and heroic uses of her powers, rather than vulgar gunplay.
+1 Super Geneology

[TGU]

Name: Bridget Kelley aka The Salamander

Age: 23

Sex: Female

Height: 5'8"

Nationality/Ethnicity/Religion: Irish, white, formerly Protestant but now a devout believer that God does exist, he just doesn't give a fuck.

Appearance, mundane: Bridget has long, dark red hair (reaches her waist when braided, her knees when loose; usually worn in a braided bun), grey-black eyes and pale skin.  She is quite poor, so she dresses mostly in cast-offs; old ripped-up jeans, ragged long-sleeved shirts and the like, all in dark colors.  She is usually scowling about something.

Appearance, mask: The Salamander dresses in skintight red satin from nape to knee and knee-high, dark red calfskin boots that she stole from a costume shop.  She wears a vaguely butterfly-shaped, homemade mask of graduated blues.

Superpower: Firestarting.  She can light almost anything on fire by thinking at it, and can control the resulting fire, putting it out or making it spread as she sees fit.  Can also raise burns on skin or even inside a person - her favorite way to subdue an enemy.  She can control and even extinguish fires set by others, though the larger they are the harder they are to control, and any blaze larger than a burning house she has no control over.  ((Firestarting is automatic for basic flammables (dry wood, paper, leaves, trash, cloth), roll at +2 for more difficult items (heavy wet wood, plastic, live trees, huge quantities).  She can't, of course, set fire to things that won't burn - no burning rocks.  Line-of-sight and oxygen are both necessary - no setting people's organs on fire. 

Burning skin (or perhaps even more effective, setting clothes on fire) is a ranged attack (range limited to naked-eye line-of-sight) at +2.  While less immediately fatal than some attacks, being on fire is incredibly painful and distracting, and will stun on 50% of attacks while the victim frantically tries to put themselves out.  Weak successes are mostly a distraction, strong successes result in a screaming torch.

Blowing up a gas tank is difficult unless she knows the precise location in the car of the gas tank.

Manipulating or extinguishing existing fires is similar.  Small flames could be controlled with little difficulty - coaxing a fire out of the fireplace is no sweat.  Larger flames are harder to control and extinguish; putting out a house fire might take several turns of rolls, and putting out a coal mine fire would stymie even her.

Disadvantages: Power limited to line-of-sight.  Almost phobic aversion to water - the touch of water causes pain, though the hotter the water is the less it hurts (a hot shower is tolerable, though unpleasant).  ((Cold water freaks her out - being splashed with cold water could require a dodge roll, with a bad failure stunning her; being drenched would stun her automatically and leave her shaking and desperately trying to dry herself.  While she can set fire to volatile liquids, nonflammable liquids like water cannot burn.  The wetter something is, the harder it is to start - while she could set a human on fire, it would take a lot of effort, and she views it at unnecessary, preferring instead to deliver burns to specific areas of the body.  She canNOT simply call fire out of the air (no random fireballs).  She suffers from occasional nightmares of the house fire that killed her parents; she has difficulty using her power the day after one of these dreams.

Mundane abilities: Her years on the street left her an expert knife-fighter.  She's also a dab hand at knife-throwing.  (+1 melee dodge, +1 knife (thrown and held)

History: Bridget Kelley was born in the dirt-poor tenement of Beggar's Bush in Dublin, Ireland.  An only child, she lived with her mother and father in a one-bedroom "apartment" that was really part of an old, run-down army barracks.  Her father did odd jobs for anyone who would hire him; her mother scrubbed floors for a living.  Despite their circumstances, Bridget and her parents were relatively happy; they loved each other and felt that all they really needed was family.

This ended when Bridget was eight.  The building containing their "apartment" caught fire during the night; neither Bridget nor her parents woke until the fire had reached them.  Bridget's father carried her out of the house and then went back in to get her mother; almost as soon as he'd crossed the threshold, the roof collapsed.

Orphaned, with no extended family to turn to, Bridget fled into downtown Dublin, scratching out a meager existence as a beggar.  Her powers first manifested during the unusually cold winter following her tenth birthday.  A street gang calling themselves Harry's Hooligans soon learned of "the girl who could make things burn" and took her in, giving her food and shelter in exchange for her services as an "enforcer."  She went along with them for ten years, alternately intimidating and torturing the Hooligans' targets, until she started dreaming about the fire.  The memory, long locked away, of her father running back in to the blazing tenement to save her mother unnerved her, and left her wracked with guilt over the things she'd done.  Sneaking into the Hooligans' "headquarters" late one night, she stole all the money they kept stashed there, set the building on fire and fled.  Half the Hooligans' money was enough to bribe the sympathetic pilot of a cargo plane into taking her along on his next flight to New York.  Once there, she took a job at a dry cleaners, renting a small, dingy apartment on the floor above.

Still tortured by dreams about the fire and her parents, she took to prowling the streets at night, using her powers against those who prey on the helpless - scaring off muggers by making the garbage can near them suddenly flare up, or taking slightly twisted pleasure in raising second-degree burns on the tender parts of would-be rapists.  She raided a costume shop and a fabric store to create her outfit, which she wears under her mundane clothes. ((A seamstress! Can make and repair costumes, alter clothes, and get stains out - roll at +1))  She occasionally works with Egress at night, having found that being able to pop right out of the wall in front of a street tough before burning him gets her the added bonus of seeing the most wonderfully shocked expressions on her targets' faces.  She also loves the jitters it gives the cops when she and Egress dump a burned, smoking punk literally into their laps in the middle of the night.

Bridget still hasn't gotten up the courage to say anything beyond "Thank you, have a nice day," to that cute Greyson dude who frequents the dry cleaners she works at.

Equipment:
-One-bedroom apartment
-Older but still working computer with connection to whatever futuristic internet they have now
-Six-inch switchblade
-Set of three four-inch throwing knives with wrist sheath
-Wallet
-Bank account with a little under $1000
-Pack of cigarettes

Bonuses:
+2 to Burn Somebody (once per turn)
+1 melee dodge
+1 knife attack
+1 seamstress and cleaner

Salamander has the Antero Seal of Superheroic Rockage

[K]

If you want to make a superhuman serial killer, you're in the wrong game.

((In any normal setting, the fanatical killer would be the VILLAIN.  Welcome to Hellhound On My Trail.))

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Oh wow.

[TeroWasHere]

If you want to make a superhuman serial killer, you're in the wrong game.

((In any normal setting, the fanatical killer would be the VILLAIN.  Welcome to Hellhound On My Trail.))

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Oh wow.

As soon as you start collecting dead prostitutes, you're out.

[K]

...well, fuck. Is it too late to make a new character?

[goo]

Name: Diggory “Dig” Paris

Alias: The Prodigy

Age: 26

Sex: Male

Height: 6’1”

Nationality/Ethnicity/Religion:  White American Non-Religious

Appearance: A pair of shockingly fierce, intelligent blue eyes glow from beneath a pile of unkempt, matted, dirty brown hair and a large never-trimmed beard. His face is filthy, as is the rest of his clothing.

He wears a soiled pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and several layers of jackets and coats which all share the same grimy, oily appearance.

He smells faintly of urine and strongly of body odor.

Underneath his clothing, his body is a network of scars from old wounds and self-administered surgery.

Superpower(s):

Human Network: Given his genetic heritage, Dig’s telepathic potential is virtually limitless. However, most aspects of his powers were suppressed, either through the use of drugs or conditioning, so that he was never able to fully develop them. Instead, almost the entire focus of his abilities has been on turning him into a sort of living communications hub. He is able to link the conscious minds of people around him with his own, as well as linking together all parties involved if he links more than one other person at a time, thus enabling thing to instantly share thoughts as well as all sensory information which allows them to communicate instantly without the use of any kind of electronic transmission and allows them to more effectively coordinate attacks and maneuvers.

Dig can function pretty much normally when he’s linked with only one person, though the more people he adds to the link, the less in touch he becomes with the world outside of his head, until around six or more, he enters a catatonic state where he’s completely unaware of anything happening in the “real” world around him, and can only be stirred by breaking the link.

He cannot delve into someone’s sub-conscious mind, only “hear” their conscious thoughts, though often he can usually verbally trick them into thinking about something if he’s trying to get information unwillingly out of someone.

Vast Intelligence: Whether or not his intelligence is superhuman, or simply at a naturally gifted level, Dig possesses an IQ that is off the scale. This allows him to learn and adapt much faster than the average human, and gives him a certain intuitiveness towards finding creative solutions to problems.

Advantages:

Off the Grid: As he was never legally born, Dig has none of the numbers or forms or records most people have, so officially at least, he doesn’t exist. Out of necessity, he has also removed all implants installed into him by the people who birthed him, making him effectively invisible to the government and impossible to track.

Survival Skills: As a result of living off the grid, Dig has been forced to learn how to survive on the streets of various cities around the country. He’s become an accomplished scavenger for food and other resources as well as having developed some limited hunting and tracking skills from hunting rats and other small animals whenever he’s happened upon them. He has also developed an instinct for danger and exceptionally fast reflexes, especially oriented to saving his own ass and getting the fuck away from things that might hurt of capture him.

Disadvantages:

Off the Grid: Dig has never had access to the things normal people take for granted like healthcare and a well-balanced diet. While he’s remarkably healthy, considering his lack of proper care, he suffers some of the symptoms of malnutrition, namely the early states of Pellagra (sensitivity to sunlight, pain in the limbs, aggression, dermatitis, insomnia, and irregular bowel movements). He also has never had a formal education beyond that of approximately a 13-year-old. He has supplemented his knowledge base through a combination of the few times he’s managed to sneak onto the net, and through the Library (detailed later), and has developed his own system of mathematics, but still has huge holes in his knowledge of history, science, philosophy, theology, and literature.

PTSD: Dig suffers from night terrors and thus does his best to avoid sleeping as much as possible, only doing so when he collapses due to exhaustion and can be assured dreamless sleep. He also takes an instant dislike and distrust to anyone in a white lab coat.

History:

Batch 2 Caretaker’s Log Day 267

All 23 subjects appear to be in excellent health with no noticeable birth defects. The nursery seems empty this time around, but I guess it would since we have less than half of the amount of children as last time. It’s a pity that so many of the fetuses ended up being female.

I’m optimistic that we’ll have better results this time. We should see the males develop faster without the detrimental influence and instability of the females. None of the infants have shown any sign of telepathic power as of yet, but I’m taking this as a good sign, since most of the subjects who developed early last time proved to be the most disruptive.

Batch 2 Caretaker’s Log Day 493

Still no sign of any kind of telepathic abilities. I’m beginning to wonder if the abilities were contained in the X chromosome. The mother was inarguably far more powerful than the father, at least in terms of raw mental strength. Still, she never had the intelligence to fully harness her power, never had the strength of will to control and utilize it.

The male children showed signs of their own ability last time though, so they must have at least some latent potential. Perhaps it was simply the early development of the females that caused the males to start realizing their abilities as well.

Batch 2 Caretaker’s Log Day 612

Finally! I’m unable to determine who was the first, because it spread so fast, but the children are starting to show signs of telepathic ability. They’re crying in sync and the nurses, at least the sensitive ones, are able to “hear” their non-verbal cries as well.

Batch 2 Caretaker’s Log Day 615

Almost all of the children are now displaying telepathic potential. Only 5 and 22 appear to be without ability. We will give them 3 more days before removing them from the project.

Batch 2 Caretaker’s Log Day 1236

7, 18, and 23 are progressing nicely. 2, 6, and 8 are starting to fall behind and my guess is that they will most likely have to be removed from the program.. Their results have been average throughout the trial, and I doubt any of them will ever rise above mediocrity. Still, they have survived this long and show no signs of disruption, so it might prove worthwhile to place them in a different program. Interrogation or possibly even covert ops.

1 continues to be the star. He seems to have quite naturally slipped into a leadership role at this point, such that it might be valuable to isolate him from the rest during the next link to see if they’re actually performing as well as they seem.

He also continues to devour his studies at almost an alarming rate. At 30 months old, he’s already reading at a 5th grader’s and he seems to have a hereditary grasp of math, especially geometry.

Overall, I’d say removing females from the experiment has proved to be an overwhelming success.

Batch 2 Caretaker’s Log Day 1924

I’m beginning to worry about 1. He might actually be too intelligent for this project. I think he might be starting to figure out what’s going on. We’ve been very careful about leaving out all possible information that might lead him to understand what we’re doing. Perhaps that’s the problem. Perhaps we’ve been too careful and he’s noticed the missing pieces.

He’s developed something of a rebellious streak. Nothing to worry about yet, but he’s less docile, less immediately willing to follow commands than he used to be.

7 and 18 continue to progress admirably. For a while I was afraid that they were becoming jealous of 1’s out-pacing them, but now the three of them seemed to have formed a bond. Almost as if they’re looking out for each other.

Batch 2 Caretaker’s Log Day 2509

As much as I hate to admit it, I think it might be time to phase 1 out. He’s started asking questions and I think he knows when I’m lying or trying to brush him off. I’ve not sensed any kind of telepathic probing in my own head, and the Monitors inform me that they aren’t using any telepathic abilities outside the link and the occasional normal communication. It might be time to schedule another probing just in case though.

Batch 2 Caretaker’s Log Day 2515

The probe didn’t turn up anything, and the Monitors assure me that nothing untoward is happening. Perhaps I’ve just grown paranoid. I watched them today, willingly pushing the suspicions out of my mind, and it looks as if they’re behaving normally.

Batch 2 Caretaker’s Log Day 2819

Something is definitely up. There’s nothing I can pinpoint. They’re behaving just like always, but I just have a feeling that something is awry. The Monitors continue to reassure me that nothing is out of the ordinary and that they’re detecting any thoughts to the contrary. Perhaps we’ve underestimated the degree to which these boys have control over their own minds. Probes continue to turn up nothing. But. I’m sure something isn’t right.

As much as it pains me to do so, since I seem to have inadvertently formed an attachment to the child, I recommend we remove 1 from the experiment. It’s possible we might still be able to salvage 7 and 18 without him as an influence.

1, I think, is probably too far gone at this point to be used for anything else and should probably be destroyed.

Batch 2 Caretaker’s Log Day 2823

I am still unable to determine how they managed to coordinate the escape. They must have figured out some way to communicate without the Monitors being able to detect it. The Monitors are being probed right now to see if they picked up on anything consciously or unconsciously and failed to report it.

7 and 18 have both been debriefed. They will likely have to be destroyed, because I cannot think of any way that they might be salvaged.

The way they describe how 1 simply abandoned them once he’d gotten over the wall continues to boggle my mind. They seemed to be such a close-knit group of children, and 1 had all the signs of compassion and empathy. Perhaps there was something we missed.

Excerpt from Dr. Morrison’s Personal Journal

I saw him today. It’s been almost 15 years since the incident, and with all the resources at their disposal, they haven’t been able to find him.

He truly is something else.

He was having an altercation with a man in a black costume, obviously a meta-human, though he didn’t display any specific powers so I can’t determine who he is without access to the database. The vigilante was beating up some street toughs that looked like they had tried to gang-rape a girl, and then 1 showed up.

He looked awful. Like he’s been living on the streets all these years.

He started having an argument with the other meta-human about something, but stopped mid-word, and looked right at me. I guess I must have thought something about him, because I had not fully realized it was him until he looked straight at me.

He studied me with those eyes of his, cold, clinical, sharp eyes. Perhaps that’s how I must have looked to him.

But no sooner had we made eye contact than he ran off down some alleyway.

I thought about reporting him to the lab, but now, all these years later, I feel more loyalty to the boy than I ever did them.

It is good to know that he is still alive.

Transcript from Planning Session:

Voice 1: Sweepers have been added to the local forces in all large cities around the North American continent. They have begun cracking down on the homeless and transient population in cities, generally as part of an urban renewal plan or sometimes as outreach programs. The subject has not yet been captured.

Voice 2: I still remain skeptical that we’ll be able to catch him this way. He’s too good at this point. He’s been avoiding us for 15 years now. Subtlety is no longer the answer. We have to start a real man-hunt. Circulate his picture on the nets.

Voice 1: You know why we can’t do that.

Voice 2: We have to do something. Perhaps we can allow one of the more dangerous meta-humans to escape, and use that to justify sending out Sweeper teams.

Voice 3: What of Dr. Morrison?

Voice 1: He’s been disposed of.

Equipment:
Clothing, including many jackets.
Plastic Water Bottle – A nearly indestructible bottle useful for containing liquid. Currently, warm Cola.
Shiv – Made from half a pair of scissors.
Black Plastic Garbage Sack – Currently empty.

The Library: Dig has amassed a collection of purloined books, old periodicals, and whatever literature he’s been able to excavate from junk yards in the cellar of an old condemned motel just off the beach in West LA. The Library is loosely organized, with periodicals separated from books, and then both stacks separated into “Read” and “Not Yet Read,” the latter stacks being about twice as large as the former. He travels around the west coast of North America, and whenever he finds something that’s in good enough shape to be read, he stashes it in a garbage bag and when the sack gets too heavy to hall around, travels back to LA to make a deposit.