Magma man or "Dani Kai" has been working for the fbi but during an investigation after a huge hero battle becomes victim to a villain's experiment with fusing humans and matter.

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So Red Guardian was now in Forefront. Despite how... uneventful... his welcoming party had been, he wouldn't let that stop him. His new suit was great, and he wanted a proper test run. He wasn't going to just sit around and wait to hear something while hanging out in his apartment. No, he wanted to go direct to the source of any and all intel. SPD Headquarters. He'd plant himself like a tree in their command center until he saw a crime worthy of his attention to stop. A nice clean, PR win to dissuade any worries that might still linger about his... harsh methods. He'd show Orion and the rest he can play the hero game just fine, even if arresting criminals is not as permanent a solution as his usual operating procedure is.

His plan in mind, he goes up to the roof and takes off to the police station, intent on finding and stopping a crime tonight. Any fucking crime.

The "Murder Triangle" has become the colloquial term in the superpowered community for three major American cities - Detroit, MI; Newark, NJ; and Memphis, TN. They're often grouped together despite the physical distance due to their peculiar similarities; namely, the three have become the foremost in the country where villains not only outnumber heroes, but essentially control the local "cape culture". Exactly how this became the case in all three differs, of course. Detroit was once the Midwest's main city for heroes, but as most left with the other businesses while the crime rate spiked, villains became nearly the only thing left; these days, the city council is a joke, and it's essentially controlled by roving supervillain-warlord hybrids leading gangs that battle for territory. Newark was overrun strategically thanks to its proximity to New York, with villains intentionally pouring in until they simply overran the local heroes and became the dominant force, so the blue-collar town could be an easy base for NYC crooks who can't stay in the city. As for Memphis, its crime rate and low number of local heroes to begin with simply led to psychos from all over the south slowly trickling in and establishing dominance naturally. Aside from the former case of Detroit (which itself has joined the other cities in attracting outsiders), most Triangle villains aren't even from the towns they call home; the cities are just the regional hubs for villains in each areas. Villains in the northeast, from Boston to Baltimore, treat Newark as a safe haven and central base. Most supervillains operating in the south have at least made a stop for a drink and a rest in Memphis before. And while local metahuman warlords still run the city, Midwestern rogues from Cleveland to KC treat Detroit as neutral ground, although they make sure to pay homage to whatever local scoundrel's turf is hosting them. The west coast is still uncharted territory aside from villains native to it, although outside criminals have their eyes on one city in particular - Paradiso, CA.

Universally, the cape culture from these three cities is different from most other major ones, solely on account of villains being the dominant force. There's no unwritten code of decorum or honor when fighting do-gooders; most villains in those areas actively brag about how many heroes or cops they've killed, and damn near nothing is off limits for baddies in those hellholes. The few local heroes that can stick around tend to be very pragmatic and harsh in their fight against villainy, solely because they had to be to survive - if you're looking at vigilantes in Newark, they're going to be a lot more "Batman at best, Punisher at worst" than most Spark heroes. They tend to be very brutal, and capes from elsewhere tend to be wary of heroes and villains alike who once operated in the Triangle.

Recently, with Paradiso's underworld in disarray thanks to its usual syndicates growing hostile to each other, the Triangle's villains have started to take notice. With many of the Triangle cities' rogues operating nationwide, a lot of them would love to establish a fourth on the west coast; with Detroit up north, Memphis down south, Newark in the east, and Paradiso in the west, there would be safe havens for scum and villainy in every corner of the nation. While most would think that the large local hero community would be a deterrent, a lot of Triangle crooks actively see it as a challenge, wanting to prove they can overpower even a city that had that many protectors from the get go. Even if the mob infighting dies down, local heroes should be on high alert; as the FBI and MDA have already noticed, two bit psychos from Tennessee, New Jersey, and Michigan are starting to move out west, wanting to make a name for themself on the "frontier". Interesting times are coming, and not in a good way.

The Ashen Phoenix has been lying low in recent time. The soul embodying the vigilante smoke shinobi had spent the past 2 or 3 months trying to keep themselves out of trouble. Their burning fury for revenge had been somewhat tempered by a desire to attend to the secret love life they developed with a hero by the name of Scarlet Scorpion. Still, that hadn't kept the loner from rooftop patrols, if only to stop small crimes and stay up to date on the goings on, and Rae was happy to report that things had been rather slow all things considered...

Unfortunately for Rae, curiosity would draw them right back into their tale of revenge, for they were not the only one that had a vendetta against Athens Inc. Rae heard the sirens of police before feeling the shockwave of a large explosion

KABOOM!!!

Not 3 blocks away Rae could see a building burst into flames, and much like a moth would react, they had to head straight toward it. Rae would not be able to tell if it was a good or bad thing that they did, because upon arrival of an Athens Inc. Subsidiary, the message that was laid on the walls before them caused the smoker's uneven breath to catch in their lungs

PHOENIX, GIVE YOUR COUSIN A CALL

instinctively Rae let's out plumes of smoke to combat the fire, but the sirens cutting off and tires screech let Rae know that the police were here, and of COURSE the only thing that they could see was PHOENIX, and right before them stood the supposed author of the messages

"U-Uh... I can explain..."

no they couldn't. The shouts to put their hands up were indistinct as they realized they needed to escape now. Unfortunately, they would need an opening or distraction, could someone help...?

The lobby of Forefront's corporate tower was tastefully decorated and appointed for a eveningwear party. Forefront had a new cape, and all were invited to partake in festivities. If "all" is taken to mean an exclusive collection of the city's most powerful and influential luminaries, that is. Along with employees and associates of Forefront, and of course, a select few capes to congratulate their newest member. Forefront executives, politicians, and businessmen in black tie chatted with one another, all keeping an eye out for the capes they might want to have a word with or just see in costume. Waiters and waitresses milled about with refreshments and hors d'oeuvres on silver platters.

While all this was going on, Red Guardian was in his apartment, getting on his new and improved super suit. He had, in fact, allowed Glenn to talk him into his main reccomendation for the suit. Bright rose red as the main color. Merlot leather gloves, belt, and boots. Red Guardian, for his part, got his Midas-touched accessories. Golden trim, belt buckle, wrist clasps, and chain clasp for his scarlet cape, which was now a good deal bigger and longer. His suit was adorned with more red and gold than Tywin Lannister's. With the ceramic plate inlays, it would be just as protective.

Once his hair was just the way he liked it, he made his way down the elevator to his party to mingle. Fashionably late, of course. He didn't know if they wanted him to give a speech or not, he just felt truly blessed to finally be able to play in the big leagues where he always knew he belonged. Like he had some kind of... Guardian Angel or something.

"Sorry to be tardy to the party!" Red Guardian jokes with a small group of men and women in tuxedos and gowns as he steps out of the elevator in his magnificently red uniform, smiling and chuckling as he greets them each personally and warmly, thanking them all for coming. Something he expected he had a fair bit of to do at the party. They all came out for him, after all.

2000 hours

Paradiso 5th National Guard Division: Fort San Carlos

For most people, it was a shooting star flying across the sky. Little did they know, the nightmare has just begun..... The capsule flew into a satellite, knocking it out of orbit before landing in the center of Fort San Carlos. The shockwave sent a few soldiers flying into the air and the base on high alert. The national guards mobilized and was soon pointing their firearms at the capsule with reinforces on the go if anything was to go wrong. A tank was in the distance as suddenly a beast bursted out of the capsule. The monster known as Entropy has been unleashed and hell on Earth has begun. Suddenly, the tank's turret was ripped off by this lava golem, sending it flying into the air, knocking a fighter jet out of the sky. A slam on the ground from the beast turns half the base into hot boiling magma pilars, impaling dozens of soldiers. A bombardment of artilery is seen on the horizon, attempting to pumple the beast with no effect. With the military base in ruins, is there anyone who can stop this beast's advance to Paradiso?

Ahhh, downtown metropolises. The buildings packed like sardines. Emergency services out and about with no time to take a break. Traffic bumper to bumper during the height of rush hour.

That's exactly where Dan Salatino found himself. The semi driver struggled to find space on the road to squeeze past the fire engine that currently blocked the road. It was like people didn't care that they might get into an accident with a giant gas tank on wheels.

The truck slowly rolled past the engine, precariously close. Looked like some sort of false alarm to Dan. Eldritch energies shuddered through his truck all of a sudden, arcing onto the fire engine like white hot lightning, drawing them closer together.

Dan struggled to open the cab door as the space twisted and shrank around him.

Signal Lost, attempting to re-establish.

The hulky monstrosity of metal and plastic stood an easy twenty feet tall. Shaped like a junkyard knight, the large tank dangled dangerously loose on it's back. An arm slowly plough through a nearby building's face while a foot came down and easily crushed a fire hydrant like an ant. The sound of water filling a metal canister reverberated down the cramped street, and seconds later all in the area were sprayed with a mixture of water and gasoline.

The corner of Orion's laptop lit up, as the notification for another email came in.

Subject Line: Where the fuck have you guys been?

More of the same, then.

For the past few months Orion and his team were called away to deal with a confidential emergency, and to the public it looked like Forefront had just abandoned their contract in Paradiso, leaving the state for no reason while still reaping in the cash. While the mayor and local officials knew they had to, they can't exactly say anything about it without breaching the confidentiality of the mission.

And so, Orion thought to himself, we get this.

Subject Line: We are paying you for a service. WHERE IS THE SERVICE!

The sound of a laptop slamming shut echoed across the room.

Even though he'd done everything right, Orion could feel the team he success he had built for himself fading away from him. Although the rest of the team wasn't necessarily aware yet, without drastic action this would be the first of many steps that led to the team disbanding.

Orion would not let that happen.

With a heavy sigh, he opened his laptop again, setting up filters to wade through the continuous stream of hatemail. With a moments hesitation, he clicked on emails marked important.

One of the cities major councilmen had been insistent on adding a new member to Forefront. Red Guardian. Orion had never heard of the man, but a curious google search of him had led to one incident that was... concerning. A major take-down of local mafia. A major body-count, too. Normally, Orion wouldn't consider letting him on the team after that, but... this particular councilman had a lot of sway with the public.

If this went well, it could be the very thing needed to protect his team, himself, from failure. I mean, if the teams dissolved, he couldn't do nearly as much good, right?

Orion's lips pressed into a thin line as he tapped on his keyboard.

Subject Line: Get Red Guardian in contact with me.

Today was a nice day, the sun was out, it was a chilly afternoon, but the weather was fine. That giant spider web decoration they set up over the street for Halloween? Fucking hilarious. But today was a day for business to be discussed. Both Carlos, big and little, were sat in back of the old man's white Lincoln as they made their way to Calabrese's to meet with the Morellis, Jim and his nephew.

Rocco Filangieri was driving. A massive roided-up muscle-bound bull of a man with a gold chain and a blue tracksuit in his early 20s. Still an associate but he certainly had some potential. If he could ever prove himself more than just a brute and someone with a little bit of skill outside battering deadbeats and driving a car, that is.

"Ey, Dad, thanks for bringing me along to this." Little Carlo says as he looks over at his father. Despite being called "Little", Carlo was pretty average sized and in his 30s. A little more clean cut than your average mobster, and befitting the Napolitano crew's heir apparent, he wore a flashy suit just like his old man. But one could argue he didn't wear it quite as well as Big Carlo wore his as he smoked his cigar in the car.

"You kiddin? I'm not gonna live forever. One day, you're gonna run this shit. But today, you just sit in and listen. You're a made guy, just like Enzo. Only you didn't need me or no superpowers to get it. You just keep your thoughts to yourself. In fact, try not to think too much at all. Slippery fuckin kid, he'll read you like a book." Carlo says with a wry chuckle. He didn't mind that the mob finally had a meta within our own ranks, but he didn't much want anyone in his head. Before too long, they pull up to the curb at the Morelli Deli.

"Just watch and learn, kid. Carefully. Cause one day, it'll be you." Big Carlo tells his son with some emphasis, gesturing with his forefinger and pinky, on the latter is a gleaming diamond ring that sparkles and shines in the sun, even through the tinted windows of the car.

Rocco is first out of the car. The hulking italian stallion that served as Carlo's main bodyguard moseys his way around to the backseat, his muscles defined even through the loosely-fit tracksuit, and lets the Napolitanos out the back of their car to the shop where the Morellis are waiting for them.

It's a beautiful fall afternoon, the kind with technicolor leaves filling the streets and cool, crisp air that lets you wear just about anything. Charlotte loves it all; you might not think it for a spider, but between the air, the colors, and the clothes, it's her favorite season, and she's intent on enjoying it in her own special way. Of course, others might find her way of goin about things bizarre, but she doesn't really mind. When you're as odd looking as she is, you get used to it.

In any case, the massive cobweb she weaved between two buildings on the East Side would draw some attention, especially since the spider woman is just relaxing on it doing some knitting. While it could easily be something to be afraid of, especially this close to Halloween, the arachnid doesn't really seem hostile at all; the black widow body is odd, but aside from the eight eyes, her top half is just a kind looking woman in a chunky knit sweater. At the moment, she doesn't seem to be paying all that much mind to the world below.

CHARACTER BIO

Name: Claire Newman

Alias: Challenger

Age: 23

Appearance:

Claire is a fashion forward young woman, and that shows. Most of her clothes are carefully selected for her body type. Being taller than the average woman, and with much more muscle, Claire's has a strong sense of color blocking, and appropriately fills out her silhouette. She has blonde hair that she clearly cares for, hanging just below the shoulders. Her sharp features often intimidate people, she has a bit of a case of resting bitch face.

As Challenger, she wears something that strikes a middle ground between athletic wear and a typical hero costume. Almost entirely a goldenrod yellow, it's a bodysuit with shiny plastic armor plating, and shoes that strike a mix between running shoe and combat boot. She wears a heavy visor that covers that top half of her face, tinted enough so that she can look at bright lights without hurting her eyes. Finally, her hair is almost perfectly brushed across one side of her face, with a short pony at the back.

Personality:

Challenger is the kind of person to devote herself fully to something- a fantastic quality for a hero. However, her dedication and resolve doesn't leave a lot of room for her interpersonal life to succeed quite as much. She's a work-a-holic, and has zero tolerance for people who get in the way of that.

She wants to make a difference, and she feels the best way that she can do that is through being a hero. She wants to get her normal life in order but was never given the tools in order to do that.

Background:

From a young age, Claire's life has been dominated by one thing, gymnastics. To call her parents pushy would be like saying a wildfire could light a candle. It dominated her life, her thoughts, her dreams. Gymnastics was a passion for her, not a natural one, but one that came into her life through sheer amount of time forced to participate.

When she was twelve, she spoke up for the first time. She refused to go an important event, and while her parents allowed her too, their retribution was swiftly and immediately felt. Family dinners started happening with her left at home, conversations with her parents and siblings were cold, stilted. At first it was worth it, but as the gap between her and her parents became wider and wider, she caved.

Two years later, Claire was nominated for the Youth Olympics. During the final hurdle, she misplaced a landing and snapped one of her legs. Passing out, she was rushed to the hospital. During that haze, the only thing she remembers is hearing her parents discuss how this injury impacted her gymnastics- no concern for their daughter.

This was what caused her powers to awaken.

___

Years later, and Challenger has found a passion of her own. Something that really makes a difference in the world. Using her ability to close an arena around herself and her foes, Challenger has taken herself to the front-lines of heroism. Moving from being a teen sidekick for a local hero, to one of her cities leads, she was approached by Orion to join Forefront. Soon after, she was promoted to his second in command.

Resources:

Challenger is a member of Forefront, their second in command after Orion. She earns about 200k a year. But aside from that, she doesn't having else particularly special. Most of her time is dedicated to her work.

POWERS AND SKILLS

Power One: Arena Creation

Challenger's main power allows her to create a 'bubble' around her, which is marked with a purple force-field. This bubble has about a 5 meter radius, and doesn't harm anything it intersects. Any living being half-caught in the bubble is pushed wherever the majority of their body is caught, anything inorganic is left unharmed. This force-field is about as tough as a brick wall, taking some effort to break through.

Within this bubble, time is accelerated to the point where the outside world seems frozen in time. Nothing within this bubble can effect anything outside of the bubble, and she can choose to end it at any time. People who can teleport can teleport outside of the arena, and should Challenger ever leave the arena via another capes power, the arena will instantly shatter.

Challenger uses this ability to catch out opponents and keep them in close range with her, to give her team time to plan and regroup mid fight, or as a safe space to apply medical aid in the chaos of battle. It looks exceptionally impressive, as she dips between foes and defeats them in what looks like a split second... or looks really lame when she's knocked out in an instant.

Power Two and Three: Enhanced Strength and Toughness

Challenger is exceptionally strong and tough. While she isn't on a world stage level with either, Challenger is stronger and tougher than the majority of metahumans. Upper-mid/low-high tier compared to other capes, she's capable of throwing a car a solid distance, and could body check hard enough to flip a bus a few times.

She is also durable. Most bullets from average guns (such as pistols and assault rifles) wouldn't phase her, being little more than a distraction or light bruises. Armor piercing bullets (those fired from things like snipers) are more dangerous to her, being capable of piercing through her skin like a stab wound. Finally, explosives and above are capable of fracturing bones and taking her out of the fight if she isn't careful.

Power Drawbacks:

Challenger is a strong melee fighter, and is capable of keeping people in melee range with her- but she actually has to get into range in the first place. She can hulk leap, and run pretty fast thanks to her enhanced strength, but someone with actual mobility (fliers, teleporters, portal-makers) should be able to keep out of her reach pretty easily. Basic anti-brick techniques, kite and blast.

Skills:

• Skill Name: Combat Tactics / Leadership
  • Has been a cape for since being a teenager, and has been working with other heroes for a long time. Combined with lessons from Orion, she's a quality leader able to keep a team together during the middle of intense combats.
• Skill Name: Medicine
  • Challenger's power let's her apply first-aid without much risk. Because of this, she has dedicated a lot of her time to learning first aid- she's roughly as capable as a paramedic. She can generally keep injured people in one piece until more qualified help arrives. Better than just first aid, worse than an actual doctor.
• Skill Name: Melee Combat
  • Challenger is excellent in melee combat, using her super-strength combined with basic martial arts practices in a unique blend in melee combat.
• Skill Name: Gymnastics
  • Not so much anymore, but qualified from youth olympics.

Equipment/Weaponry:

Doesn't have much of note. An armored bodysuit with various emergency medical supplies, a smartphone, and a radio. The only thing of note is that she has three heavy discs of metal on each side of her thigh, each weighing about 50kg. She's capable of throwing these with her super-strength.

ATTRIBUTES/FEATS

Strength:

Challenger's strength is much higher that most metahumans, although it doesn't reach world record heights. She can comfortable lift roughly ten tons, is capable of hammer-throwing a car across a football field, and can shove a school bus hard enough to tip it. Her punches are capable of denting plates of steel, and she's strong enough that anything short of of a reinforced vault can be ran through, kool-aid man style.

Agility:

Her agility isn't anything special, for a cape. In terms of reflexes and raw agility, she's nothing more than a well trained human. In battle, her experience gives her a certain edge against many opponents, having spent years fighting and is able to turn on her fighting instincts in the blink of an eye. She does have some enhancements to this thanks to her enhanced strength, she's able to hulk jump about 50 meters (horizontally) and can run at about 40mph.

Intelligence/Wisdom:

Challenger has almost a decade of experience as a cape at her back. She's a natural leader, and has exceptional instincts for getting her team through any sort of battle. She's quick, and is capable of rapidly take in a battle situation and prioritizing who to take out and when to defend. She doesn't have much in terms of an academic acumen.

Defense:

Challenger is durable. She's able to withstand small and mediums arms fire without too much of a struggle. It's painful and distracting but it won't be able to take her out of the fight without hitting her directly in the eye. Armor piercing and specialist equipment (sniper/armor-piercing rifles) causes significant damage, like a stab-wound to a normal person. Enough to take whatever limb it hits out of the fight, can be lethal if it hits certain areas. Explosions such as a hand grenade would be strong enough to break her bones and take her out of the fight.

Offense:

Challenger is dangerous in melee range. Super strength punches can cause significant damage to foes, and heavy thrown items (such as a car) can cause large property damage. She rarely does that second one- because she is a hero. She lacks the destructive properties of someone with laser beams of fire manipulation, but is capable of breaking down most things near her.

###CHARACTER BIO

Name: Charlotte. Her given name was Experiment 12, and when she enters the vigilante business, she'll go by Attercop (not that she has much of a secret identity anyway).

Age: 9, but since she was vat-grown, she's biologically an adult. Her human half looks to be in its late 20s.

Appearance: Imagine a centaur with a spider's body rather than a horse's, and you've got about the right idea. Charlotte's top half is that of a fetching human woman's, with pale skin, black hair usually done in a Mia Wallace-style bob, and eight red eyes arranged in rows of two (not to mention a pair of fangs in her mouth). Right around her hips, however, her body merges with that of a massive black widow spider - easily as big as a cow. At full height, she stands at 7.5 feet tall from the tip of her spider legs to the top of her human head, and she weighs in at just about 500 pounds. While she does have a partial exoskeleton on her human part, it didn't fully form in the vat as intended; as such, her arms below the elbow are covered by shiny chitin plating, but the rest of her torso is just normal human skin.

As far as clothing goes, while her spider half goes uncovered, her human half is rather fond of conservative blouses and comfy, chunky sweaters, depending on the weather.

Personality: Despite her eerie appearance, Charlotte is an absolute sweetheart, and is always happy to lend a helping hand. She's very clever, even a bit of a smartass sometimes, and - ironically, thanks to her condition - she wouldn't even hurt a fly if it didn't hurt her first. Thanks to her background, she really looks up to superheroes, and is generally very nervous around laboratories. Although stares and remarks about her looks do get on her nerves, she's got a thick skin (exoskeleton) by now - after all, you kind of have to in a situation like hers - but Charlotte can still be pushed to active anger with enough prodding.

Background: Every once in a while, you get a scientist with the perfect combination of genius, creativity, and an absolutely astonishing lack of ethics; one Dr. Marvin Green fit this bill to the letter. A brilliant biologist specializing in arachnids, he slowly grew fixated on the idea of "evolving" them - in practice, running experiments with mutations and crossbreeding to make massive eight legged monsters. When some of them broke loose from his Nevada compound and needed several superheroes to be stopped, Green's work was exposed and he was arrested immediately. But during the raid on his lab, the heroes found the most bizarre thing of all - a woman with eight eyes, fused to the body of a huge spider. Unlike the others, she was intelligent, and not hostile at all; more than anything else, she seemed confused and scared. As a look at some of the files revealed, the good Doctor had been up to a lot more than just making run of the mill giant tarantulas... he was trying to genetically engineer a race of spider people. He'd gone off the deep end enough to think adding arachnid traits was the logical next step in human evolution, and she was the end result.

Though she couldn't speak much at the time, only knowing what English she'd been able to pick up from Dr. Green, she at least knew enough to identify herself as "Experiment 12". (Whatever happened to the other 11 spider people that implies the existence of is still a mystery.) Since she clearly wasn't a threat, but was now homeless and in desperate need of help - and more pressingly, a golden opportunity for (more ethical) research - she was sent to Paradiso University for a time. There, a team of the finest metabiologists studied her unique physiology, and a group of social workers tried hard to get her as acclimated to real society as they could. As they found, E12 turned out to be smart as a whip, picking up English in under a year and mastering literacy in less than twice that. Her favorite book, given to her by one of her handlers, was Charlotte's Web; in fact, she liked it enough that she finally picked her own human name.

After a few years of training, it was decided that Charlotte didn't need to stay under observation - amazingly quickly, for a once-feral meta in as strange a situation as the one she came from. Declared well-adjusted enough socially to survive on her own, and in full control of all her unique abilities, she's struck out on her own; at the moment, she's paying her rent by knitting and selling garments made from her silk, but her dream someday is to be a hero just like the ones who saved her. The main problem, as far as Charlotte's concerned, is her looks making people think she's a villain; sadly, most people give the giant spider girl a wide berth already. Of course, she's optimistic she'll figure out something.

Resources: An apartment that's very cramped considering her size, and a reliable income from knitting with and selling her silk.

###POWERS AND SKILLS

Power Descriptions:

• Arachne Physiology: Naturally, she's got some abilities just on account of being a giant spider woman. Those 8 legs can skitter at scarily fast speeds, easily as fast as a car loose on the highway, and just like a real spider's, they can climb up walls and ceilings with ease. She even had some jumping spider genes spliced in to let her jump 15 feet high, and 50 feet across. Her spider DNA massively scaled up her proportional strength, both for bearing long term loads and shorter lifts. Finally, once an hour, she can produce enough venom to kill a man, able to be conveyed through either a bite or a spit, but she'd never use this unless it was a last resort.
• Webspinning: She can both let loose spiderwebs normally from her spinneret, or shoot them from the tips of her fingers. Her silk is very durable, even able to serve as strong light armor if she weaves it thick enough into clothing, and while less defensive uses of silk can be cut through with a strong arm and a sharp blade (as in a combat knife or something), it's very sticky if she wants it to be - it's an easy way in a pinch to make ropes or incapacitate potential enemies, and she can even use them for mobility by swinging around Peter Parker style. Much like real spiders, she can use different kinds of silk for different purposes (read: she can control the silk's thickness, adhesivity, strength, etc.). Of course, right now she mostly just uses this power to make very nice clothes and blankets to sell.
• Spider Sense: Her normal human senses are all greatly enhanced, especially vision (as you'd probably expect from someone with four times as many eyes as everyone else). Her sense of smell is good enough to smell cigarette smoke about half a block away, and her hearing is good enough to hear conversations at the same radius, but her vision is good enough to spot gnats from a full city block. She also can see perfectly even if it's pitch black out. Aside from that, though, she also has a Spider-Man style "danger sense" that tells her if something is coming for her, which sets off when it comes within about a 50 foot radius of her.

Power Drawbacks: Attack her human body, outside of her arms, and there isn't much she can do about it. Also, her silk can't stick properly to very oily/greasy surfaces, and bleach or other strong bases will throw off its adhesivity as well.

Skills:

• Stealth: You wouldn't think it for her size, but with the ability to walk silently and mobility like hers, she's really good at staying unseen. A favorite tactic hide on ceilings and above beams.
• Knitting: You'd probably expect this, but even aside from with her own silk, she's very good at knitting, sewing and crocheting.
• Tying Knots: Probably also to be expected, but sometimes, she needs to hold something that just sticking a web on won't work. With both her own silk and normal rope, she’d make any Boy Scout troop leader proud with her rigging skills.

Equipment/Weaponry: Nothing, at the moment.

###ATTRIBUTES/FEATS

Strength: She can bear about 5 tons easily by carrying it on her spider body (and twice that for short distances, although that's very tiring), and her actual arms can lift about the same amounts with the same respective ease. Her thickest strand of web can bear up to 2 tons before snapping, but only half that for a safe load (e.g. taking into account any large movements, swings, etc. that could still cause the silk to break). Of course, if she really needs to hold something that heavy up, she can always shoot multiple ropes for more support.

Agility: About 80 mph at full speed, and she's very mobile, between her wall crawling, a 50 foot long jump, and using webs for grappling.

Intelligence/Wisdom: Not superhuman, and still a little stunted socially, but she’s smart.

Defense: Her exoskeleton can withstand pistol fire. Her uncovered skin is pretty normal, though, and she won't have Kevlar or anything for it until she actually becomes a heroine.

Offense: Aside from her strength and webslinging, her claws and the points of her legs are very sharp, even able to pierce through thin (under 1 cm thick) layers of steel thanks to their durability. She can cause grievous bodily harm with ease, and is fully intended to be an offensive threat.

Name: Giancarlo "Big Carlo" Napolitano

Age: 65

Appearance: Carlo is a reasonably handsome man for a man in his mid-60s, known to dress well, in a way that isn't too flashy, but still flashy enough for people to suspect (and fear) his potential criminal involvement. In business attire or athletic wear, he always wears gold jewelry and often travels with a couple cigars, which he smokes rather frequently, especially whenever business is discussed.

Personality: Carlo is the embodiment of the Petronio Family's Old Guard. A firm believer of keeping all within the family, nothing outside the family, nothing against the family. His view is that the family needs to stay strictly full-blooded Italian and male, yet has no opposition to working with metas. After all, he is a staunch traditionalist, but not suicidal. His attitude is generally stern and unmoved, usually cold. Though occasionally burning red hot. He knows that he is in a position of power and that any weakness his crew or others sense in him could result in his death. Despite his age, he never intends to show his subordinates any evidence of weakness. For Carlo, might does, and always has, made right. Even when he was young, that at times, occasionally resulted in innocent people getting hurt. But he didn't get into this life to help kittens down from trees. Like a shark, Carlo senses weakness in people, he's been doing it all his life. Degenerate gamblers, dumb tourists, or rival gangsters, he has always believed that some people were put on this Earth just so he can profit off their misfortune, and that ruthless mentality has carried him far in his line of work.

Background:

As far back as he could remember, Giancarlo always wanted to be a gangster. Unlike many gangsters who were born into the life, his father was actually a bus driver. But he saw the guys around his neighborhoods with their big cars and nice suits and knew it was something he just had to be a part of. He started out running errands for made guys when he was still in fourth grade and by the time he was 24, after a couple trips in and out of juvie in his teens, and serving a year in county for a weapons charge, he had not only killed half a dozen people for Don Marco and the others, but had set up his own little business boosting cars from different fancy hotels using red vests and fake nametags, and bringing them back to a mob-owned chop shop. He had shown that he not only isn't afraid to kill or do anything else for the family, but that he had a mind enough to think bigger and earn for the family, not just wait around for orders to be handed down. As the years went by, his schemes got bolder and his notoriety rose higher. By the time he was 40, he was a made man, a millionaire multiple times over, and a father to a new family, all his own. But like most guys who see too much success too soon, it all came crashing down.

He was smart enough to make a lot of his money untouchable for the feds, but he was brought down on racketeering charges, and a lot of other stuff, and did a 20 year stint from 1995 to 2015. When he returned to the scene, his lips sealed for all that time, it was enough to show them how seriously he took the omertà, and it proved to the bosses how committed to the family he was. He already proved his cleverness back in the 80s, now he had more than proved his loyalty, and was "fast tracked" to getting made Captain by way of Don Marco... removing... the current Captain, a man the Don simply did not trust as much as Big Carlo. In the time that Giancarlo has been in prison, his son, Little Carlo, had come up in the family and had earned his own button. Many mobsters don't want this life for their own sons, but Big Carlo could not have been prouder. Giancarlo's wife from the 80s had left him not long after he went inside, and just a year after returning to the outside, he was already remarried to the younger sister of one of his soldatos, to a woman roughly his son's age. Now, in the present day, Carlo has regained all his lost fortunes and then some. With power, money, and a wife half his age, his goal is simple. He's going to make the years he has left count for something, bring the family back to what it was before he went away. They took 20 years from him. 20 fuckin' years! He'd make sure it wasn't all for nothing. He'd make the name Petronio a name to be respected and feared once again.

Resources: As the owner of several businesses, primarily Conti Construction, he is able to pay himself and his crew a respectable paycheck as a completely legal source of income to account for their expenditures in the eyes of the law. His crew is comprised of eight made men, who each have a varying degree of associates who work under them. They each run their own "legitimate" businesses, and kick up tribute to Big Carlo, a portion of which in turn, goes up to the ancient Don Marco, demented old bat that he is. Giancarlo has lived a life of crime and earned a lifetime of ill-gotten gains, save for his occasional leaves of absence. To show for it, he has a big house in one of the most affluent suburbs in the city, several different cars each with a gun in the glovebox, a low eight figure number split across several bank accounts, most offshore, and soldiers and associates who all serve at his beck and call. One of whom serves as his driver and bodyguard, who drives him to and from the construction site and anywhere else business is done.

#POWERS AND SKILLS

Power Descriptions:

Money is Power: Carlo's crew isn't the biggest in the mob, but construction is a very good business. He is one of the best earners in the Petronio Crew, and that comes with many benefits. As far as money sitting in American banks and mutual funds goes, his legitimate construction revenue makes him a very well-off man in the upper middle class, just a little bit shy of a million. In actual fact, FBI estimates place Big Carlo's true net worth as being roughly beyond 10 million, much of his true wealth spread throughout international businesses run by shell corporations as well as accounts in Switzerland and the Cayman Islands, where it is virtually untouchable and untraceable for the American Government.

Power Drawbacks: Being a normal human with no powers save for a handgun and a bodyguard or two, Carlo would be easy prey for most other characters on this sub if they got to fighting. Though he is tough, and in fact, absolutely vicious for a man his age, his age is 65 years old. Most supers and even most unpowered characters could probably take him one-on-one either in a fistfight or with a bullet to the back of his head. Fortunately, his wealth and status in the mob is such that one would rarely be able to catch him one-on-one or off guard. Even still, wealth and soldiers can do only so much if he were to incur the wrath of a meta-human.

Skills:

Vicious Businessman: Giancarlo clawed his way up to management through equal parts ruthlessness and survival. In his youth he left no stones unturned serving Don Petronio and the old capos. These days he finds himself handling a pen and paper in an office more than a bat and a pistol in a basement, though he has no shortage of experience in both aspects of the life.

Marksman: He's got no military training, but he's handled quite a few guns in his time and takes periodic trips to the shooting range to stay sharp should he ever come under fire. Primarily, his experience is with handguns, though he has shot rifles at the range before.

Commander: As the skipper of his crew within the mafia, Napolitano can greenlight hits, beatings, kidnappings, or whatever the situation calls for on individuals or groups. It is not something he does for amusement, and reserves for those who deserve it by wronging the family as a whole or him personally. Though he won't send goons after just anybody, say someone who cut him off in traffic, he will send people after anyone who owes him money, tries to kill him or his men, or otherwise makes an enemy of him or the Petronio Family. On the flip side of that, he may send a warm thank you to anyone who does him or the family a good turn. He will essentially ensure that no good deed goes unrewarded and that no bad deed goes unpunished.

Equipment/Weaponry: An old school gangster, Napolitano sticks to the classics. A .38 Special Snubnose revolver holstered on his ankle at all times is his primary method of self defense. But he also keeps more firepower in the gloveboxes of his different cars. A Beretta M9 in the glovebox of his Lincoln Towncar, a Glock 17 in the glovebox of his wife's Cadillac Escalade, and a Sig Sauer in his Mercedes Convertible that he only tends to take out on weekends.

#ATTRIBUTES/FEATS

Strength: He doesn't really work out. He eats a lot of expensive Italian food. That said... he's still pretty good with a bat.

Agility: He may well be the oldest guy on the subreddit. He doesn't walk with a cane at least but you've got to be pretty fucking slow if Big Carlo can outrun you on foot.

Intelligence/Wisdom: You don't get to senior management in the mob without something between your ears. He's not a book smart person, but he knows the streets and he knows people. Who's strong, who's weak, who's got money, who doesn't. When you live as long as Big Carlo has, you meet just about every kind of person there is and how best to deal with each one to maximize his own gain. He's no psychic like Enzo, but he still likes to think he knows how to read people.

Defense: With a revolver on his ankle, at least one bodyguard with him, and a semi-automatic pistol in whichever car he's using that day, Carlo is well defended against the average man. Unfortunately, this city is made up of a lot more than average men. The reality is that if any super(s) really wanted him dead, all his money and soldiers would likely not be enough.

Offense: Similarly, as far as the average human goes he is as well equipped for offense as he is for defense. His guns and goons could be used just as easily to attack others as they could to defend him. If he really wanted anyone dead, he may well be able to make it happen. Of course, if he really needs to kill someone that moment and just can't wait to order a hit, he's just an old guy in the back of a Lincoln with a pistol and an armed driver. More firepower than the average human by far but against supers, not exceptionally threatening.

It was 11:27 AM on a clear blue sunny day. A bit chilly, but not a cloud in the sky. An armored car filled with cash from the mall was on the way to a bank in the city, but something was in the way of the road, some kind of broken down 18 wheeler that stopped trying to cross the intersection. As it turned out, this was a clever ploy. Some associates of the Rose Outfit planned this out and hit the truck hard and fast, taking a hostage and emptying the truck's contents into two cars in no time. Fortunately for them, they were in and out in 2 minutes, with roughly a million dollars piled into the trunk of each car, both old school with no computer tracking chips.

Unfortunately for them, an up-and-coming young cape named Red Guardian managed to get the drop on them, and was chasing the convoy in mid-air from about 50 feet above.

"Haha! Yeah, David! Yeah! You see the way I slammed that punk into the glass?! Bam! Hahaha!" Laughed a thug in the back seat of the second car, his shotgun in his lap as they make their escape.

"Fuck that, we did it! We'll be made for sure now! The bosses will have to take notice of us! We're fucking earners! They get their slice, we get our buttons." The driver nods to himself with a small smirk while the guy in the back takes an absent minded glance behind them, checking for cops, when he sees something far worse.

"Yeah yeah, well, we gotta get out of here first... Wait... What the fuck is that? WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?!" The guy in the back shrieks. The passenger up front glances back too and sees what he sees too. The silhouette of some fucking cape following them.

"Shit! I don't know who this dude is, I've never seen him before. Who fucking knows? Some nobody... But he looks to be all alone. You know... Heh... Wanna bet we can take this asshole?"

Though he can't hear them, Red Guardian is pleased to see them speed their old boats up as they barrel down the streets. They know he's there. Good. It was just starting to get boring.

Name: Lex Thomas, better known as Red Guardian

Age: 24

Appearance: Red Guardian stands 6'1, with pale skin, pale blue eyes, and a big, wavy, brushed back and hairsprayed head of red hair. He looks a bit like Conan O'Brien and a bit like Rick Astley when they were young. His superhero costume is rather stereotypical, bright red tights, maroon boots and gloves, gold metal details, and a long scarlet cape with a gold metal chain clasp to keep it on his shoulders.

Personality: Red Guardian didn't become a superhero out of the goodness of his heart, he did so for the entirely selfish reasons. Fame, money, power, success. One day, he wants to be nothing less than the most beloved and revered Supe who ever Suped. But he has a long way to go to get there. He still has to get signed on with a corporation like Spark or Forefront, after all. And he has to try to keep his own overzealousness use of his own powers in check in the meantime. On top of being only out for number one, Red Guardian doesn't adhere to silly ideas like "holding back your powers" or "avoiding collateral damage". He just knows he has to at least make things look like he had absolutely no choice but to use his eye lasers at full power. He considers humans weak and asking to be ruled by their betters. If he had it his way, supers would rule the world and he would rule the Supers.

As such, Red Guardian doesn't make much effort to arrest criminals. He considers them more as bugs to crushed under his heel, and he considers himself and all supers as the boots chosen by God or whatever higher power there is, if there even is one. And he likes crushing bugs. His fighting style is rather lazy as a result. While he could expend a bit of energy to punch and kick criminals into submission, his preference whenever possible is to not waste his breath and just laser them to death and say he had no choice whether it's true or not.

Despite all this, he can actually be quite polite and superficially charming shen he needs to be. He carries himself with a boyish confidence and a near ever-present smile when among the public, though it is largely just a veneer of goodness to hide a black heart. He is in fact astoundingly cynical and detached from the suffering of others, in fact relishing in slaughtering criminals for nothing more than a laugh and the thrill of watching their light go out.

Background: Lex's background is... Well, not anything he'd talk about much. The official story though is that he had the perfecr small town West Virginia upbringing and everything was peachy until he saved his school bus from going over a cliff and that's when he knew he had to be a hero et cetera...

Resources: Lex is not supremely wealthy, not yet. He currently has an apartment in a rather dangerous part of town to save money and because no one in their righmind would try to rob him, a bank account with a fair amount in it from bounties, rewards from the city, and some advertisements and commercials he's done. He doesn't spend that money on very much aside from one thing: Lionel Goldstein. A scrappy young defense attorney who also moonlights as an independent super agent. He is trying to get Red Guardian signed on to a corporation and has kept him out of legal trouble for his frequent uses of excessive force.

#POWERS AND SKILLS

Power Descriptions:

Laser Eyes: Red Guardian's most powerful ability by a great degree is his eyes. At will two blue laser beams can shoot out of his eyes. The lasers are blisteringly hot and can slice through most things, including trees, humans, most metals, and most buildings. He has great control over these lasers too, able to make them mild enough to warm him a cup of coffee and intense enough to slice through entire crowds of people. A secondary power of the laser eyes is X ray vision. Not effective against thick walls such as bank vaults or those of thick stone, but he can see through most standard drywall and thin sheet metal easily.

Flight: He is not the fastest or best flyer alive, but he's got a good command of himself in the air and will use it to hunt people down or should he find himself in a fight he can't win, to escape, at speeds of up to 90 mph. His cape is specially engineered so it will flutter behind him exceptionally gracefully mid-flight.

Power Three: His final and least unique power is his super strength. He is durable and powerful in a brawl, but ultimately not that great. He relys so heavily on lasering people that his fighting style has become rather sloppy. He wouldn't know though, he hasn't had to actually fight an equal of his (or anyone!) hand to hand in some time.

Power Drawbacks: Red Guardian's eye lasers, though devastating to human flesh and many other materials, are not universally effective. He can slice hrough thin metals (such as a car / lower durability characters) is fine, but not full buildings. Slicing through thicker metals (such as a skyscraper supporting steel beam or bank vault) takes him an extended amount of time, a minute or so. Therefore, fights with top tier durability opponents, he has the firepower to hurt them, but will need some time to really break through and massively injure them- as well as preventing him from leveling large swathes of city. Additionally, there exists a 'travel' time on his lasers. How fast they get from point A to point B. About the speed of an arrow- this is where characters with reflex powers can avoid with applied effort. There is also a maximum range on the laser and X-ray vision. For both he has to be within 100 meters of his target.

Skills:

Cunning: Red Guardian is rather cynical. He knows how the world runs and it's not on good deeds and sunshine. It runs on backroom deals. Favors, back-scratching, blackmails and bribes. You wouldn't know it from the white suit but he has a real penchant for intrigue and knows his own strengths in that arena. Mainly intimidation. He'll do whatever it takes with no moral compunctions to rise in power and status.

Marksmanship: His laser's aim is deadly when he wants it to be. Perfectly capable of mutilation as well. Legs, arms, heads, he's tried it all and it all works well. Practice makes perfect. If his lasers kill, i't's usually because he wanted it that way.

Lawyer/Agent: A good lawyer is it's own skill. An agent even better. Until he has a corporate legal team he has Goldstein Law Offices. A small one man firm, Lionel does everything in his power to keep Red Guardian out of jail and constantly endeavors to get him into the big leagues with Spark or Forefront.

Equipment/Weaponry: Red Guardian doesn't really make use of equipment or weapons of any kind save for his suit. He does keep a utility belt on his suit, but it's mostly for show and actually carries his phone, wallet, sunglasses, a little bottle of hairspray, and some other personal items.

#ATTRIBUTES/FEATS

Strength: Medium. His individual strength is nothing exceptional, though his eye lasers can amputate or kill almost any ordinary human and surely harm some supers, especially those without high durability or fancy protective suits.

Agility: Medium: While not blindingly fast, Red Guardian can still fly, and has become quite experienced in doing so.

Intelligence/Wisdom: Somewhere between Base and Low. He is clever enough to scheme in his own self-interest but he's not much of a planner. He is fairly impulsive and focused on short term gains, not that he'll pass up an opportunity for long term gains if it arises, just that he doesn't often feel a need to think ten steps ahead and will take opportunities as they come.

Defense: Low. He can fly and dodge well but his suit is nothing special, and were he to get hit too hard or too many times, he'd be shown to be quite a glass cannon. Now, perhaps the right corporate sponsorship could boost him up to Medium with a sweet armored up suit.

Offense: High. Eye lasers. He can throw a good super-powered punch but the lasers are capable of extreme destruction if he's not careful. So far he has been reasonably restrained, only letting criminals feel his extrajudicial wrath, but on the wrong day, at the wrong time, such powers could prove dangerous.

OOC: In case you're wondering, yes, I did just make Homelander's redheaded little brother. The Boys is great and this sub looks great too, I'd love to be a part

"If the morning won't come to me, I'll bring myself to it. Force those stuck hands to start time ticking again."

Malloone discovered the most peculiar thing on a bridge. It's looked like an old, metal toolbox bolted to the ground, with a clock pasted on. The clock seemed to be bad, it counted time backwards, and would sometimes skip over a few seconds.

The goopy mazian sniffed the metal box all over. It's smelled like, like, there were some nitrate esters by how it made Malloone woozy. No not quite. It was definitely nitrogen based. Nitrogen. Nitrogen. Nitro.

Malloone recoiled at the realization it was explosive. It looked left and right to find someone to help, but alas, it was not a bridge meant for pedestrians. With little other choice, Malloone changed shape into a large, long horn.

"BROOOH"

A low, baleful noise eminated from the makeshift siren. It carried far, fortunately, because the heavy vibrations deformed Malloone into a soppy puddle.

Mike Basara takes a long look at the brand new sign above his equally new shop; or more accurately, his shop's new location. For a month, he's been making preparations and having things moved into the new property from his old building in Detroit, but now that he's finally here in Paradiso, just about to open up in a brand new city... well, there's something about it that finally makes it all seem real. Moving here a gamble for sure, and one he's not sure why he's taking, but he's got faith it'll work out.

'Michigan Mike's Auto Repair is now open for business.'

His proud, silent musing is interrupted by the screech of metal against the floor, while a mutant in a hoodie drags a grill out to the front of the shop with a grunt. "I'm still not sure why you made me haul this here, dad..."

That prompts a chuckle from the giant of a mechanic, while he simply points to a few large coolers in the corner, and a set of spatulas, tongs, and mountains of plates and buns. "Why'd you think we got a grill here, Jack? We're gonna grill!"

As far as he sees it, any chance to break out some burgers and franks is a good one - especially if it's to celebrate a new start on another side of the country. On top of that, free food means free advertising, and a chance to show off to potential customers. Even more than that, though? It's just goodwill to the neighborhood. He never missed a chance to try and give back to the community in his old home, and while Mike may be new to Paradiso, he just wants to try and spread a little joy.

And that, quite simply, is why anyone in the East Side on this fine afternoon would find themselves passing by what seems to be an impromptu block party. A long-vacant warehouse now has a bright neon sign out front advertising "Motor work straight from the Motor City", and at the center of it is are two grills - one gas, and a smaller charcoal one, too. Hard at work manning them, respectively, are a jolly looking man as broad as he is tall, and a shorter boy who... well... looks like a demon.

Anyone want a burger?

###CHARACTER BIO

Name: Michael "Michigan Mike" Basara, Jr.

Age: 52

Appearance: Mike is a pretty normal looking middle aged guy - he looks like a jolly dad, which is indeed what he is. He's pretty big, standing at about 6'4" with a heavyset build, and has dark skin and a shaved head with a salt-and-pepper goatee. He usually wears polo or t-shirts, jeans, and work boots or sneakers while out and about, but can be found just as often in his mechanic's jumpsuit. Every once in a while, he'll throw in a baseball cap, too - either one representing a Detroit sports team, the Michigan State Spartans, or a custom trucker hat advertising "Michigan Mike's Auto Repair".

Personality: Mike is a laid back and very friendly guy to basically everyone, always happy to be a Good Samaritan and help out people who need it if he can. He's practically a repository of fatherly advice, even unprompted and to people who are not his son. He loves cars and food, especially American cars and American BBQ, and he's a devout Christian. Really, he's a pretty simple guy, in the most positive way there is.

Background: Michael Basara was born in 1968, right in the aftermath of the riots in Detroit; his dad was a worker at the local Ford factory, but ended up getting laid off when the auto industry crashed, leaving both of his parents bouncing from job to job to try and feed Mike and his siblings. Though his family was poor, he still generally had a good upbringing and was brought up well. He was a football star in high school, even getting a scholarship to Michigan State, but his dreams of going pro were crushed when he suffered a knee injury that still hasn't quite recovered. After that, he got into street racing for a few years to make money, but as the stakes got higher and some of his fellow racers started getting arrested, he decided that it probably wasn't a good idea to stay in the game, even if he didn't think it was morally wrong. He ended up getting a job at a local auto body shop to keep working with the cars he loved so much, and soon enough, he worked his way up to manager (and eventually just bought the business himself by his mid-40's).

When Mike was out and about one day in November of 2000, he stumbled across some decidedly abnormal crying coming from a dumpster - and found an abandoned baby boy inside. It was a pretty strange looking kid, too, with yellow eyes, dark fur, and faint nubs of horns sprouting from the forehead; even if the infant looked weird, though, and even if it wasn't human at all, Mike wasn't about to just abandon it to die in the garbage. He took the infant back home, and ended up simply raising it as his own son. He named the boy Jackie, and for over a year visited doctors who simply weren't sure what to do. Eventually, he was referred to a scientist of metahuman physiology in Chicago, who confirmed that the impish looking toddler was indeed a meta. One with never before seen mutations, granted, but still a human at the root of it all.

Jackie grew up, and Mike tried his best to raise him right and keep him out of trouble (which isn't easy if you're raising a kid in Detroit). His son dropped out of school after 8th grade when bullying got too much to handle, and while Mike understood, he wasn't going to let his kid go out into the world with no education or skills. So, to make sure he would at least have the latter, he started teaching his son about his own job, and had him start working around the shop. Jackie got good, but his real passion was music - which, while apprehensive at first, Mike soon started to encourage. By the time his son moved to Paradiso at age 20 to further his growing career, Mike couldn't have been more proud of him.

Now, Jackie and his new girlfriend have been encouraging Mike to move out there himself, and even offered to help out some with money to give him a reason to leave Detroit for somewhere so much more pricey. As much as he loves his hometown, Mike decided that after 52 years, a change of scenery might be nice. Palm trees seemed cool, beaches by the actual ocean sounded fun, and half a century of Michigan winters were starting to get to him - so he took them up on the offer, sold his shop in Detroit, and bought a new business and new house in Paradiso.

Now, Michigan Mike's Auto Repair is newly open for business on the East Side. Mike is hoping the gamble pays off, but even if it doesn't, well, the palm trees and beaches were even nicer than he thought.

Resources: A modest house, a few cars (one of them's a lemon, but he's working on restoring it), and a decent income from owning and operating the newly opened Michigan Mike's Auto Repair on the east side of Paradiso.

###POWERS AND SKILLS

Power Descriptions:

• Unpowered: Mike is not a meta, does not know magic, and while he's a reasonably smart guy, it's by no means to a superhuman or genius level.

Power Drawbacks: Mike, being a normal human with no powers who only has weapons at home, would be easy prey for most other characters on this sub if they got to fighting.

Skills:

• Music: He may not be a musician by trade like his son, but Mike is very knowledgeable about music, especially 20th century soul/R&B/Motown. He also has a great baritone voice, and has been known to enjoy singing just for fun every once in a while.
• Driving: Owing to his street racing days back in his youth and a lifetime of experience with cars aside from that, he's great behind a wheel.
• Machines (Specialization - Vehicles): Thanks to decades of practice and work, Mike is an expert mechanic, able to fix plenty of devices and appliances with ease. He's generally very handy. However, most of his knowledge applies to trucks, cars, and motorcycles. It's not to a superpowered extent, but he's been working with automobiles since the 80's. He most definitely knows what he's doing.
• Cooking: The man knows how to work a grill. Burgers, franks, ribs, shrimp, fish... it's getting grilled all the same. And it's coming out delicious. His absolute specialty are Detroit style Coney dogs, though.

Equipment/Weaponry: He owns a pistol and a shotgun and knows how to use both, even if he doesn't like violence one bit. He's had to use them a few times back home to scare off thieves breaking in, and while he hopes there's no need for it in Paradiso, he still made sure to bring them with him.

###ATTRIBUTES/FEATS

Strength: He's pretty strong (there's a good amount of muscle under his chub), but it's nothing out of the ordinary. He doesn’t work out or anything.

Agility: He's an aging fat guy with a bad knee. Basically every single character on the sub could probably beat him in this regard, although his reactions are still decent for a normal guy.

Intelligence/Wisdom: It's nothing superhuman, but Mike is a smart guy in general, even if he never finished college. In particular, he's a wizard with machines, vehicles in particular.

Defense: Not much. He owns a couple guns for home defense.

Offense: He can throw an alright punch, is a big guy in general, and has a couple legally owned guns in his house, although he doesn't usually carry them.

“Yin Wei kuo tu c'hüan, ping jung yüeh... C'hüan shih ni ti shih shih wu c'hiung a mên.” Said the old Chinese man while Cinder wearing her trademark blue dress was translating for him “And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. Amen.....” A loud Amen could be heard that day in the great church. It appears that the closing thoughts were finished and it will now be time to for lunch. The group gathered, waiting in line at the soup kitchen, looking for their friends, waiting for a meal and chit chatting. Meanwhile Cinder is distributing warm bowls of noodle soup. Specifically hand pulled dough stretched to perfection shrewd into noodles and now with soup, Wenzhounese style with plenty of vegetables and beans, swimming in an artificial chicken broth.. “We got some meat noodle soups for all you non vegetarians out there. It’s coming up soon!” Cinder cried as she finished distributing her noodles and renters the kitchen.

Anyone stop by for Sunday Lunch and then Afternoon sermons?

It's July the Fourth, and for everyone in Paradiso that means fireworks, barbeques, and a long weekend. On this sort of day, the heroes, villains, and those in between all have their own stories to tell in celebration or simple observance. What is your character up to?

[Open event, post your characters and feel free to reply to anyone.]

Ulysses hadn't actually planned for the job to go this wrong, and the Torusian isn't sure if he's more surprised at that fact or that the job had gone this poorly at all. What was a simple intimidation stunt, sending a message to some hoodlums who had muscled in on the local drug trade in the east and south sides, had now become a car chase and shootout when his assault on their operation was interrupted by the arrival of backup. Now the cybecommando is in a muscle car he'd stolen from the thug's compound, trying to avoid automatic gunfire as he's chased by a gaudy tricked out Bronco SUV.

He doesn't try firing back, simply focusing on escaping as best he can. For all the commando's skills, he's not accustomed to driving human vehicles even after all this time, and so from a distance it almost seems as though he's drunk. The Torusian knows he's at a disadvantage here, and since he can't exactly wait for the gang bangers to run out of ammo before a vigilante shows up, the best option may be to ditch the car and continue on foot. Passing through a wide opened avenue in a business area of the south side, Gow stops the cars at a narrow side street, blocking the road before opening the car door and practically crawling out. He makes sure to keep to cover, but the commando crosses the distance from the car to a nest of picnic tables in impressive time. The thugs are behind him now, having actually slammed through the glass pavilion at the entrance of the side street. None of them are hurt, but they;re even more pissed off as six of them all come streaming out of the van toting guns.

It is an age of fantasy, an age of magic, and an age of adventure. We lay upon the kingdom of Paradiso Due to its location and it's neutrality to other major powers of the world, it is a major trade hub, attracting adventures, traders, and even mystics, all vying to find their fortune in a city of opportunity.

The west of the kingdom is home to ports and shores, where you will find traders from distant lands selling wonderous goods. To the east, a more simple, agricultural land, but some say dragons and other monsters live in those hills.The north is where the elite of the province live, who have made their fortune and settled down in extravagant mansions. The south is described by some as a place of crime and debauchery, but others call it home, and wouldn't want to live anywhere else. At the center though, is where the royals of Paradiso live, in the tall castle that can be seen everywhere.

In the Kingdom of Paradiso, anything is possible.

[Fantasy AU. Describe who your character is and what they do. Since this is non-canon, it does not have to be a character from this canon, Paradiso is just the anchor I came up with. Don't forget to have fun!]

Joel waits at the same warehouse on the East Side as before; this time it will serve as a simple rally point for him and the others of this heist team he's put together. It's an eclectic mix to say the least, but there's a genuine sense of excitement that runs down Joel's spine as he thinks of taking the score. It's been a long time since he's felt that proper rush, and after so much shake up in his own life, he could use the adrenaline. Still, it will come in time, and now the professional supervillain knows the best thing he can do is stay patient and plan this out properly. For now, he simply waits, leaning against a wall in the shadows within the derelict building on the empty street.

the news had finally begun to pick up on headlines with Rae’s actions. Drug busts, Casino attacks, flaming car crashes, people have reported a black figure in a cloak of smoke present. And sure enough at all of those sightings, an empty box of cigarettes has been left behind, The Ashen Phoenix’s calling card.

News stories remain ambiguous on this new vigilante’s intentions, because they seem rather inconsistent. One man reports them saving his life from a fiery car crash. Another businessman was brutally attacked, crippled to never walk again from the handiwork of this rogue’s sais. But more than anything now, people are beginning to talk.

Rae has done their best to stay relatively anonymous on this city, outside of a few exceptions... but when Rae donned their smoky robe, the city know the Phoenix was on the move

Today, Rae made a careless mistake. While heading toward a business meeting of their next targets, a passerby noticed this smoke covered figure and took a video.

The online post was quickly spread unbeknownst to Rae, and it only became apparent that they were outed when stepping out of an alleyway less than two blocks away from their location

8... no, 10, maybe more armed men in suits had arms trained on the smoker. Rae was taken so off guard that they failed to notice the Molotov being thrown directly overhead,

CRASH!

and just like that the path to Rae’s escape was cut off. They face these armed men, and they give Rae no time. They cock their guns. Rae grabs the sais at their side. Things were going to get bloody

Once again, alone to walk through the still night, a lone man went about his way. A small metal object caught the moonlight before falling back into his hand. A round for a handgun, red paint on the tip with a blue band around, flammable rounds with a brilliant tracer glow.

"I hope these still work, job won't be easy without 'em. Might be time to purchase new stock."

Polade spoke to no one in particular, he was all alone. Well, mostly, he briefly registered the woman dressed in white watching him from a house window..

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked back. Where once Polade thought he saw someone was now just an empty window. It was decided that this house was deserving of a little extra attention.

Polade first knocked, then tried the handle when there wasn't an answer. Locked, and tight. He glanced around the street, checking to see if it was empty. Satisfied, Polade drew a gun, and fired a shot into each hinge on the door, hopefully at this time of night, people would write it off as a bad engine backfiring.

A swift kick made the now unhinged door fall inwards, just in time for Polade to see a ring of floating lights swirl and fade deeper into the house.

"Don't do it, don't go into the spooky house."

Of course, the well intentioned admonition fell on deaf ears.

Inspector Bradstreet did not like this situation. Well, it was his favorite restaurant, but the duo across from him never meant things were going well.

"As I have said almost every month for the past who knows how long,there have been no developments in the Bard case. Scott disappear years ago, the family held a funeral and has moved on. You're the only reason the case isn't closed yet."

"I understand the position you're in, but think about the position I'm in. If I dropped this streak now people would question my diligence."

The hero Neon, ever masking himself behind a persona of levity.

*Listen, Neon, I'm retiring in a couple of weeks. They're not gonna pass the case onto anyone else, it'll be sitting in some box in the back of a closet. What even is your obsession here?"

"A commitment I fully intend to uphold."

Before, Bradstreet could reply, there was a loud commotion from a crowd at the front.

"What stupid thing could that be?"

"I know, what fool robs a diner? Yo, twerp, go deal with it." Neon prodded the young girl sitting next to him. Danielle, or whatever mishmash of a name she was referring to herself as now.

"Fiiine." Princess slid out of the booth.

"Wait, rob‽" A wall of gears blocked Bradstreet out before he could also get out.

"Easy there, Inspector. You're to retire soon, remember?"

He was forced to watch the miniature hero trot off, a brief flash of a memory striking him. Bodies, riddled with holes.

"Is this really a good idea?"

"With your heart condition, I'd say ease of the orders of bacon."

"Not that, I mean-"

"Bradstreet. As much as you'll avoid admitting it, you've learned to trust me, no?" Neon's question was punctuated by the sound of a window breaking as someone was launched through it.

If you spend enough time on break, eventually people say you've retired. It's a lesson that smacks Joel in the face when he's walking past a magazine stand in Central Paradiso; the hero and villain gossip mags are usually trash, but there is the image of Cinder on the cover of "West Coast Capes" with the headline "Out of the Game? Find out on Page 27!". Reiss has to stop when he spots it, but before he realizes just how long he spends there, the stand owner speaks up.

"Are you going to buy something man? You're holding up foot traffic."

The half-devil shakes his head, gives a sigh, and walks off without another word. He really had been out of it for too long, and after the mess at the bank, there are even rumors around that he may have gone hero. It's an odd sting, considering his earliest efforts back when he first decided to put his powers to use.

Eight hours later, posted on top of a roof adjacent to the Paradiso Municipal Art Gallery on the North Side, Joel grumbles to himself. Truth be told, he's not sure if he even wants to be doing this, but the professional pride spurs him to look through his binoculars and scout the building. Security is as tight as one would expect in a city with a cape presence like Paradiso; that is to say, there are a lot of guards and plenty of detection methods. Cameras, motion detectors, infra-red laser grids, the works; given how easy it is to find all that out with a simple sweep of the building, Joel is willing to bet there are even more surprises waiting.

He'll need a crew.

Soon enough there are feelers being put out through the criminal and mercenary underworld, with those who might be interested in a big score being told to contact a cellphone number and to leave a message. From there, it would be a waiting game. Joel gives it time before checking the messages on the burner phone, wanting to see who might be interested in working with the now returned Cinder.

With all of the craziness of Paradiso, it can be easy to forget that most people within the city are completely normal, going about their lives with the same issues as any citizen. Work, friends, chores, traffic, all part of the hustle and bustle of city living; but with every supervillain bank robbery, there are ten issues caused by non-powered folk. Today's problem eclipses anything most villains would dream to come up with, as a drunk driver on the interstate running east out of Paradiso hits the medium and flips. Cars tumble and roll as the pile-up grows larger and larger with each moment. By the time the authorities arrive, it looks like a warzone as the destruction is baked by the hot midday sun; cars settle like twisted carcasses of metal, and the injured wander about in shock until snapped from their dazes by the arrival of help. Fires blaze all around as overturned 18 wheelers leaks their contents onto the pavement; it's a hell already erupted and soon to be made worse when a loose spark plug from a damage motorcycle catches a stream of oil. A blaze erupts when the fire rushes back to the massive truck, sending a fireball hundreds of feet high and knocking firemen off their feet.

Cyber arrives not long after the other first responders, doing what she can to help in the chaos of a disaster all too real. She's used to dealing with egotistical madmen in masks, and here is the hell of a real crisis caused by one random person; no one knows the cause yet, attentions too focused on actually containing the situation while everything burns around them. After meeting with the officer in charge of the situation, she does what she can do help by searching for survivors trapped in the metal maze of wreckage stretching a half mile long. If ever there was a time for the heroes to Paradiso to step up, be they capes or just the concerned gentry of the masses, now is it.

Gow is very good at killing people. It's what he was bred for, the DNA specimens from those natural born Torusians which could be considered his parents having been selected for their desirable traits; he is faster, stronger, tougher, and smarter all in the hopes of creating a living machine of death to be used in a war whose origin has been nearly forgotten. Ulysses had been able to stomach is lack of purpose upon coming to Earth for a few months, but the simple fact in his mind is that he cannot escape what he was made to do. But what can he fight for when this world is so alien; the soldier will not die for a cause he did not choose, that much his time on Earth has cemented in him. He loves his home world still, but the injustice of his slavery as a child soldier isn't something even he wishes to return to. So he will not fight for some nation in a pointless foreign war, but neither can he submit to simple mad slaughter; Gow is a soldier, a fighter, even an assassin, but not a cold blooded murderer.

His reprieve had come in the form of Enzo, his criminal friend connecting the Torusian with the underworld. Jobs came swiftly and as frequently as Ulysses wanted once his effectiveness was proven, and all parties involved enjoy a healthy distance; the Petronios, for all their progressiveness with metahumans, would never accept an alien into their ranks, and Gow has no intention of becoming a thug. Still, the Italians and other contacts throughout the city keep Ulysses flush in work and cash, all while he tries to actually figure out what to do with himself.

'What am I actually doing with my life here?' The question flashes through his mind at a poor moment; he's currently sighing down a warehouse at the southern docks, studying the location with laser focused intensity from his position inside a cargo crane control room to the south. The warehouse is a center for one of Paradiso's human smuggling rings, meaning that Ulysses has open season on those inside; based on his infrared scans, the slaves are already loaded up in the cargo containers, leaving a dozen heavily armed goons to stand around until the ship arrives.

With his recon done, Gow slips out of the control box and slides down the crane's ladder; he doesn't want to risk being spotted by the inattentive guard posted in the building's second floor vantage point. The cybercommando bobs and weaves between the shipping containers and vehicles offering cover between him and his destination; at each car and truck outside the warehouse, he stops to affix a small explosive device before moving on to the next. It's after a few tense minutes that he's finally ascending the outside stairs and finds himself ready to breach the room of the sniper. He's through the door with knife in hand, easily storming over to the slaver before he can react and shoving the blade through his skull. With his vantage point secured, Gow activates his explosives and sends half the dock skyhigh; it's mostly a pyrotechnics show than a true series of bombs, but the effect is undeniable. Half of the dozen slavers scurry outside with assault rifles and shotguns in tow, ready to take on whatever threat this is while the others worry about securing the "merchandise".

To anyone around the city center or South Side, it'd be pretty hard to miss the massive fireball that just came from the ports.

Acceleration ( OC )

###CHARACTER BIO

Name: Andrew Contreras aka Acceleration

Age: 16

Appearance: acceleration has oak born eyes and dark black hair. He wears a thin tan fabric with black plating covering most of it. It has a green lining that breaks up the colors. His logo is a lightning bolt with a arrow on top of it. His mask his completely black and covers everything except for his his eyes, hair, and mouth but has a chin strap. When using his speed his eyes turn emerald green and his lightning matches the color.

Personality: a goof ball that never takes anything serious because he’s afraid of growing up. Andy chooses to ignore his problems and laugh about them. He always helps others even if it makes his life a personal hell, he rather him carry the burden than someone else.

Background: “You win wars by having the bigger stick” the government knew this the best. They knew that normal humans weren’t going to be enough to win wars. The created a company to create metas and turn them into soldiers. They took unwanted kids to test on them. They would put them through hell in order to test their abilities. Years later the project lost its funding and were force to set the kids free. They erased their memories and filled them with fake ones. They dumped us off at adaption centers across the United States. They used this drug that suppressed our powers thinking that it would take them away. But years later some powers would reform. Andy is one of those kids and he wants to make a difference in the world. He is Acceleration.

Resources:

###POWERS AND SKILLS

Power Descriptions: Acceleration can phase through a punch or wall. It helps him with defense and makes him harder to hit. But frequent use of this ability makes him weak and tired.

• Power One:Super-speed ( Acceleration can run up to 244 Mph and it takes 4 seconds for him to reach max speed ))
• Power Two: GalvaKnuckles (Acceleration can focus his lightning into his fist. This gives his punches a boost in damage and speed)
• Power Three:Whirlwind ( Acceleration can spin his arms counter clockwise pulling anyone within 12 feet to him but after he does this his arms get tired and his punches are weakened)

Power Drawbacks: Though Acceleration is fast he cannot run at his fast or his skin will start to burn and could kill him. Acceleration has the power to phase (In this state acceleration is like a ghost and can walk through walls) but after he does it he is left weak and vulnerability. Basically Acceleration is pretty much unable to fight and opponents attacks are MUCH more effective.

Skills: Lock pick(Acceleration grew up on the rough side of San Jose and has learned a few tricks. One of the tricks is where he vibrates a doorknob and makes it fall off)

• Skill Name: The knockoff
  • Specialisation(if required):

Equipment/Weaponry: No equipment

###ATTRIBUTES/FEATS

Strength: Acceleration can punch with 230 pounds of force. This makes him a little weaker than the average man

Agility: Acceleration can dodge bullets as long as he can see the bullet

Intelligence/Wisdom: Acceleration is not dumb and is far from the smartest person. But he makes up for it in creativity. He can make an amazing plan when under pressure and makes a good team leader when needed

Defense: Acceleration is a decent fighter and can dodge most attacks. He dabbles on the defensive side and waits for the opponent to attack so he can counter it

Offense: Acceleration lacks strength but makes up for it in speed. His punches don’t hurt to bad but are quick and repetitive

###Public Status

Public Opinion: Not to well known

Nickname: The Minute Man

"You don't have anything. You sure?"

The manager on duty rolls his eyes. "Everything we had on that night went to the police. I would talk to them. Look, I sympathize with you wanting to find out more about what happened to your friend, but I've got nothing for you."

Zelda taps her foot. This is her last known location, on the night that she was attacked and turned into a vampire. She's desperate to find something, something that will help her locate where she went from here. Who she went with... Who turned her.

"Is the bartender that was on duty that shift that night here? Maybe I could talk to them."

"Jake? He ain't on duty. Guy just up and disappeared like, a week after the police took statements."

"Disappeared?"

"Stopped answering his cell, nothing. Laid him off, filed a police report, all that jazz." He pauses. "Look, I got a shift to prepare for, I'm sorry I wasn't much help. I hope that friend of yours makes it out okay."

"I'm grateful. Thanks."

Later that night, Zelda is back on the case. While it wasn't anything big, she at least has a name. There's no way he'd forget her, at least judging by her credit card statement.

Zelda takes off her mask, and hides it in her trenchcoat. While she considered breaking and entering, and was able to shimmy a window, she found she couldn't force herself inside. Then she remembered, the landlord. She could just fake being a detective, and get invited in.

She knocks on the lower floor of the building. With her luck, the owner hasn't retired yet, and will buy that she's a private investigator.

"Hello, anyone there?"

A minute passes. No response.

Anyone else happen to come across this scene?

###CHARACTER BIO

Name: u-les-yez-go-u (translated from Torusian as “5-3-0-1-5”); goes by Ulysses Gow, a transcription.

Age: 22 physically in Earth years, about nine in Torusian years (one Torusian year = roughly 2.5 Earth years), but just 10 chronologically in Earth years. He actually was grown to near maturity (basically 15 years old) in the span of just three years, spent six fighting, and has spent the last year here on Earth. For convenience, all dates and times will be listed in Earth measurements. He chose the date he came to Earth, March 9, as his birthday for this planet for convenience.

Appearance: Ulysses is a handsome fellow, bred from birth to be a pinnacle specimen; chiseled features accented by a beard and a scar running down his right eye. His hair is a deep brown, almost black, while those deep eyes are the same. He stands at a burly 6’1” and 195 lbs.

Personality: Gow was never raised to feel much; born and trained from the moment he came out of his birthing pod, his existence is sheer focus, utter will, and complete concentration. Like a machine, he will march on his assignment, target, or even his research with a complete devotion to the task at hand, all while remaining aloof. He’s not accustomed to dealing with emotions, seeing the world in a logical and pragmatic way that clashes with his newfound freedom from the shackles of his homeworld; the Torusian will slowly adapt, but for now he can come across as more robotic than man. Still, he’s a man who understands the value of loyalty, honor, and fairness; he could be considered a good person by most, just very strange.

His time on Earth has opened Ulysses in ways even he doesn’t fully understand yet. While he’s no egoist, the Torusian has learned the value of living for himself and finding his own path in life. He has set himself a code of honor for his new work, trying to balance a life where he’s able to survive doing what he does best, without sacrificing the clean slate that this world has given him. He’s also become much less formal around his friends and even strangers, now using contractions in his speech or mostly managing to drop his obvious tactical appraisal of every situation; Gow is still always scanning the room, but now you’d have to pay attention to notice him doing it.

Background: The Outworld of Torus is a hellish place; the technological advances it has made have done nothing to ensure peace for those who call this world home. Constant war has riddled the planet for centuries, despite the might of the world's united government; populist uprisings, ideological revolts, even a civil war in the past. This is where Ulysses comes in; grown in a bio-vat to be a soldier in the armies of the United Torusian Technocracy, all he has known in his life is war, training, and the rigorous life of a supercommando. Bred for combat, Ulysses’s hyper-intelligent mind proved a massive boon to tactical operations, earning him a quick ascension through the ranks until he came to be selected for a top secret cybernetics program at the "age" of 18. With his new-found abilities, Gow became a one-man strike force that his superiors used to great effect. Over the next three years, the cybercommando would become one of the best weapons in his nation’s arsenal, but that changed when a reform faction launched a surprise attack on the capital, Lora City.

Ulysses was ordered to guard a top-secret experimental research facility deep beneath the city; he coordinated the defenses, but soon fighting spilled over from the streets and the fighting became desperate. In a move brought on from a bout of madness, one of the lab technicians activated the facility’s precious prize: a dimensional tunneler device. With the ability to travel across Outworlds, it would spell victory for the League by bringing in fresh material and resources from other dimensions. Unfortunately, this was not to be as the unstable reactor went critical and destroyed the entire facility. However, despite the odds (which he has run numerous times), Ulysses found himself alive following the explosion that turned his world white; and so he rests on a beach of Paradiso, awakening to a world unlike anything he could imagine.

He has now lived in Paradiso for over a year, cultivating a list of allies, enemies, and even friends; he has been living in the brownstone of Thalia Blackthorn, and has converted the basement into a workshop area. He has also become friends with Enzo Morelli, a made man of the Petronio crime family; through this connection with the underworld, Gow has found employment as needed by acting as a mercenary for the Petronios and other clients. The cybercommando knows what he is made to do, but he has no intention of going to fight in some pointless war in another part of the world; so he takes what jobs he can that fit his skillset and yet keeps his conscience at least somewhat clean. Ulysses has found Earth to be a strange, yet undeniably fascinating, place; there is a culture shock of America’s hyper-individualism coming from his ultra-collectivist background, but the sheer breadth of available experiences even within a single city compared to his life as a soldier on Torus has snared his favor.

Resources: Gow has access to a workshop he built up over his time on Earth and underworld contacts, which allows him to either create or buy a wide range of potential assets; he can build a gun, but if he needs a getaway car or the like, he can find someone who can get one. He is not stupidly rich, but his normally spartan lifestyle means he’s collected a good amount of money in reserve; in the year since he’s come to Earth, he’s managed to stockpile $500,000 in cash and some assorted gold items in a lockbox he keeps key and number locked.

###POWERS AND SKILLS

Power Descriptions: Ulysses is a Torusian cybercommando, a genetically engineered and cybernetically augmented super soldier; as such, most of his powers are based around combat and focused on combat, survivability, and intelligence gathering.

Power One: Supernatural Intelligence

• Ulysses has a mind to rival that of the most brilliant metahumans, exceeding normal people by a wide margin; when combined with his advanced technical expertise, it’s not out of the realm of possibility for him to truly change the world if he wanted.

• For actually building any gear, the time it takes depends on the complexity and needed materials for the project. Something like, say, power armor might take him months, whereas something like a rifle or jet boots would only take him a few days to a few weeks.

• Ulysses has three areas of expertise equivalent to trained and experienced professionals in the fields: mechanical engineering, electrical engineering, and cybernetic-biological interfacing.

Power Two: Cybercommando Physiology

• Ulysses was subjected to numerous genetic alterations while he was gestating in the incubation vats as a fetus, and later augmented with cybernetics to add on to his physical capabilities.

• His strength, speed, reflexes, and other physical attributes are all above peak human levels, easily allowing Gow to take on numerous regular foes or even a couple of metahumans if he’s careful and smart.

• Gow’s brain implants contain a complex heuristic algorithm designed to assist in the learning of languages and cyphers; he’ll be able to learn English after just a few minutes of being exposed to it in a dense, text and speech filled urban environment. He is also able to decipher many advanced codes with relative ease; it’s not instant, but with time it’s possible.

• Gow can see in night vision, EM spectrum (ultra-violet and infrared), and even sonar. It proves useful for tracking invisible targets or finding hidden goodies in a room. All of his gear also connects to his cybernetics to create a HUD that allows him to monitor vital systems such as ammo and energy capacity.

• Due to his implants, Gow needs less sustenance than the average human and can survive up to 2 weeks without food or water. However, this is assuming he’s acting as a normal person during that time with an average amount of physical exertion; if he is out fighting, using his cybernetics, etc, then he must eat in order to regain the energy required for his bionics. When he was a soldier on Torus, he would normally eat once every five Earth days.

Power Three: Cybernetic 3D Printing

• The primary cybernetic augmentation Ulysses received as a part of the experimental procedure is what the Torusians refer to as a “yuroi”, a device much like the replicators from Star Trek. With this device implanted in his right arm, Gow is able to break down composite matter of up to 25 kg (~50lbs) into base atoms and molecules, then shape it into a material he sees fit. The drawback is that this takes a lot of energy out of Ulysses, requiring him to ingest calories to keep himself going. As well, the yuroi cannot create complex objects or machines by itself; something like a microchip is beyond his abilities to make, as an example. Creating some simple object without much complexity to it, such as a sword, a bowl, or something to that effect would take Ulysses only about a minute. The intention of the implant is that a team of cybercommandos working in tandem with their individual yuroi devices could potentially build any device they needed in the field given time and access to sufficient calories courtesy of genetically engineered superrations.

Power Drawbacks: The yuroi device will quickly eat up all of the stored energy in Gow’s cybernetics, meaning that if he must build something or craft a weapon on the fly, he’ll need to find a way to quickly regain energy before his body gives out. His implants are also actually vulnerable to intense sonic vibrations. If one manages to find their harmonic frequency, they could be destroyed entirely, in fact.

Skills: Off of the battlefield, Gow is a skilled engineer and inventor as well as a capable spy and soldier. Interrogation, subterfuge, and the general tricks of any good spy are available to Gow, like lockpicking. Also, he's technically not human. This is evident in the fact that his internal organs are all reversed from the standard human configuration, e.g. his heart is on his right side. Explosives expertise and marksmanship are two of Gow’s most prominent skills, fitting a soldier trained from birth; in terms of fighting ability, he’s nearly master level, but can be defeated by more experienced opponents if they can compete with his physical capabilities. After all, he is only 10 years old.

Equipment/Weaponry: Ulysses has built himself a fine arsenal for his work as a mercenary, and has even managed to replicate a few key gadgets from his homeworld using his yuroi device to simulate elements he can’t find in abundance on Earth. These are just the basics; specific mission loadouts will be discussed and approved by the mods, or set up beforehand with a prep focused event. E.G. If Gow needs to buy grenades or some specialized equipment.

• Gow’s everyday carry is a modular folding shotgun based on holdout designs popular amongst guerilla fighters on Torus. The weapon holds six shells in interchangeable ammo cylinders; when going about his usual day, he’ll keep two cylinders on his person, both loaded with three rounds each of buckshot and slugs. When out on mercenary work, Gow usually brings two cylinders of armor piercing flechette shells, and a cylinder of riot control shells.

• With a bit of kitbashing of parts he could find on Earth and the energy matrix system he could develop himself, Ulysses has built a phased plasma rifle (in the 40 watt range). The weapon has a variable power adjuster, able to switch from safety mode, to a stun mode capable of disorienting the nervous system of the target for a period of about five seconds, to a full power setting capable of burning through body armor and seriously wounding a normal human with a direct hit to the torso. It is not a piercing bound, but rather the conveyance of extreme levels of heat and plasma; any target that is not affected by these things will find itself at an advantage, but for most situations Ulysses finds himself in, the rifle will do the job.

• The most grueling and time consuming device for Gow to make was his personal hand sized shield unit. Attached to his person at nearly all times, the shield creates a velocity reactive field around his person that is capable of deflecting mass and energy that is approaching him above a threshold of 60 mph. This means that Ulysses can still sit and continue about life normally, but when in danger he will be protected. The shield dumps its energy using a thermal clip design; when too much damage is absorbed for the clips to vent, such as multiple successive shots from a fully automatic rifle, the clip must be ejected and replaced. This means that if Gow can find a reprieve from being shot for the several minutes it takes to dump the energy, he will be able to last on one clip; just in case however, he carries three of these D-battery sized cells on him.

###ATTRIBUTES/FEATS

Strength: Ulysses is far stronger than a normal human, capable of deadlifting up to a ton and pushing or pulling two with effort.

Agility: Gow has incredible reaction speeds, able to compete with trained Olympians at a top speed of 35mph. His reflexes are also enhanced, allowing him to dodge projectiles about the same speed as an arrow from a standstill, if he’s aware of the threat.

Intelligence/Wisdom: His primary attribute, Ulysses is beyond just a normal genius; a true polyglot, he’s up there with super intelligent metahumans for sheer breadth of his expertise. His implants don’t grant him an overtly supernatural intelligence per se, but given his knowledge of advanced technology and the ease with which he can learn, it’s simply a natural ability that seems to have been aided by his genetic alterations.

Defense: Ulysses is actually a normal person, in terms of defensive capabilities; he’s not bulletproof or particularly resistant to blunt force trauma, but Gow does have a nearly indomitable will that will see him past injuries others would succumb to. In that way, his sheer stubbornness and single minded determination will get him through more fights than anything else. He also has no special healing factor. His shield can take several high caliber bullets in quick succession without failing, but a magnum sniper round or a blast of close range buckshot could take it down in one hit; his defense in that case depends on how quickly he can change the cell in combat, or how good he is at dodging attacks.

Offense: Gow is one of the deadliest people in Paradiso, in terms of pure combat capabilities and skill; while not unbeatable, he’s more than a match for even a group of normal humans in a straight up fight. With enough gear and prep, expect him to be able to contend with squads of trained humans, such as SWAT officers or such.