Feudal America - A super-power RP in modern day America (Game Thread)


New member
Mar 18, 2011
The interest thread [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/read/540.386178-Poll-Feudal-America-A-super-power-RP-set-in-modern-USA-Interest-thread]
In cooperation with Pyroguy86 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/profiles/view/pyroguy86].

Welcome to America - a land where a new feudal system had developed in recent months. This is a story set in a world that had survived what some now call "The Collapse". That event happened almost six months ago, when simultaneously around the world a few people were bestowed with superhuman abilities. Some were able to fly; others could read minds and a few lifted cars without any trouble. As time went on, more and more people exposed themselves and their powers to the world, and the internet became a hub of information concerning these new humans.

Shortly after that, people with these special abilities began to abuse them for their own good. Ordinary citizens feared for their lives and property as supers did what they wanted. Ordinary police fought against these criminals but failed against them most of the time. Super human policemen fought against the rogue supers as if they were taken straight from a comic book, with costumes and names included. The government called in the military to keep the peace and protect people from the super-humans ? but also to protect them from themselves, as normal humans rioted in the streets.

Slowly but surely, the hole the government, military and police had left was filled by bands of super-humans who offered to protect cities, towns and districts in exchange for certain rights. It was the beginning of America's first Feudal era, where local war-bands of these special people protected others from similar bandits. Some were fair while others exploited the weak. Some were democratic or autocratic, going as far as establishing various monarchies around the mainland.

Life became harder and terrible accounts of massacres in different cities were always in the air. As time went on, a hierarchy was established with the bands of "heroes" taking charge or territory and resources, trading it with each other and even threatening others for some.The weak became vassals to the strong or were destroyed, and small domains were established. The government, holding as hard as it could to power is now comprised of several military units occupying cities and military bases around the country, relying somewhat on their special squad of super-human soldiers and police officers.

You are a mere citizen living in a small city of approximately one and a half million citizens on the east coast of the USA in FL. You were under the control of a group of super-humans for almost five months, living according to their demands and trying to feed yourself and your family. Some jobs became obsolete as the world was plunged into ruin, so you were reassigned to a different one. Other jobs became even more important from before, and that benefitted some people greatly. A few days ago you started feeling strange and saw something new in you ? You also had a power. This new wave of super-humans, though you are not aware of now, will shake the very foundation of the USA's new society as it plunges again into what was called "The Collapse". Will you come out of this dark era victorious? Will you become a King in his own right, ruling over a kingdom spanning from The Atlantic to the Pacific? It's all up to you.

1. All rules of the escapist apply.
2. The word of the GM(s) is law
3. Act courteously to your fellow players outside of the RP. In Character? Be the grandest dick ever, but remember that it carries consequences.
4. Darker than black characters (pun not intended) aren't something we're looking for. Angst turned to 11 is also something we don't like.
5. Have fun. Yes, it's a rule.
6. We will kill your ass at some point... SO.... Yeah. You'll need to watch yourself, and we'll warn you before we attempt to go for the kill.

[HEADING=2]Chapter One.

The Coronation.[/HEADING]​

Camp Blanding, The US government's Florida HQ.

2 AM, 12th of June, 2013

The orders the colonel received were loud and clear.

Re-take Florida at all costs, and then push north. Florida's 3rd Super unit's next target was clear ? They had to kill the lords keeping a tight grip over Palm Bay and slowly suffocate the larger groups in Florida's southern inland. The McNeil family wouldn't prove to be much of a problem to handle.

The colonel entered a small tent at the edge of the camp and looked around the compound where the military's elite were at. Plain bunk beds were the comfort of potential kings, and nearly rotten food rations filled their stomachs. The colonel knew that nothing was stopping them from breaking loose and taking what they want, nothing except for their loyalty to their country, or the shadow of it that remains now.

"Attention, soldiers!", the colonel announced and the five super-soldiers of Florida's 3rd super unit noticed the high ranked army-man enter their tent. Some immediately stood up and saluted while others had to get off their beds to acknowledge the high ranking officer. Mitchel was the first to speak as the leader of the group.

"Sir, yes Sir.", he saluted and stretched his chest, with the others following Mitchel and roaring at the same time.

"Sir, yes Sir!", the four others said. They all trained their eyes at the colonel as he began to speak.

"I have your orders. You are to re-take Palm Bay for the US government and continue the struggle to unite Florida. Our intelligence suggests that there are seven supers guarding the city? I trust you will be able to eliminate them. Your munitions and transportation are waiting at the gate.", the colonel looked at the five individuals standing in front of him. With the other more experienced super groups busy in action, he had to rely on the third unit to reign in Palm Bay.

"Sir, Yes Sir!", all of the five answered together. The colonel nodded and turned back, leaving the tent.

Mitchel sighed and stared at the lockbox on the opposite side of the tent. He knew that the more he left his family the bigger the chance of them getting hurt, but he couldn't abandon his friends still in action. Some of them couldn't leave service ? Dirk had the conviction to protect others and Manny had no place to return to.

"You heard the man, suit up. Get your special gear and meet me at the gate, understood?", Mitchel barked at the others and headed straight out of the tent. The others scrambled to get into their uniform and each retrieve their own device, a gift from the state.

They had a long drive ahead of them from Jacksonville to Palm Bay. It's a shame none of them could fly.

2:20 AM, 12th of June, 2013

The team is finishing up with loading their vehicle, a Jeep with a high caliber machine-gun placed on the top to counter any armored targets they might get past. Mark sat at the wheel, the slender and short soldier made himself comfortable in the driver's seat. His equipment was at the back of the truck, a rifle fit for long range and an incredible scope able to enhance his sight up to eight hundred meters ? but he didn't need any of that. His good eyes would do just fine in a combat situation. They could easily spot a baseball from two miles away. That was one of the reasons Mark always sat at the front seat ? he was the team's lookout, and on more than one occasion he saved their asses from a faraway ambush.

Mark's blue eyes stared at Sarah too long, because before he could disengage and look elsewhere she caught him staring at her and smiled back. Sarah was the team's resident medical officer, or what was the closest to it ? she was a pediatrician working for the army, looking after the kids of veterans and officers when the collapse hit. With her home in the state of Washington, she already gave up on ever seeing her brother and sister again. She tried to load up a heavy crate of munitions on the jeep and almost fell on her back, but Manny caught her and the crate before they had both hit the ground. He helped her up and loaded the crate in the back of the truck.

Manny sent Sarah off to the jeep and turned back to see his other teammates. Mitchel's cold touch spooked Manny as he approached him from his left and surprised him. He ordered him to take a seat as well and he walked back to Dirk as he was sitting on an empty crate and eating a half full can of tuna fish. Mitchel tapped on the large black man's shoulders and reminded him they had to move, and that they could eat on the road or after they've finished with the mission. Dirk begrudgingly agreed and left the can of tuna on the crate. He was the last one to enter the truck and mount the machine-gun on top, though during the trip he sat on the loaded crates in the back while the machine-gun was hidden under a grey blanket.

Mark raised his right hand and shouted, then waited for the others to answer before he drove off. They were team number 3, or "The tornado", as they've named themselves after their late sixth teammate who could create wind tunnels with his powers.

The tornado was about to hit Palm Bay.

Almost an hour of driving later, the road was still dark, illuminated only from the headlights of the Jeep. Dirk was leaning forward on the blanket that covered the machine-gun and staring out into the abyss the awaited them forward.

"Yo, Mark?. How can you see anything in this dark?", Dirk said spontaneously after almost an hour of silence. They knew they all had to remain alert in case they would be attacked on the road, but Dirk didn't car. He was bored to death, and even the faintest clue of a conversation would save him from his untimely demise.

Mark snarled at Dirk's interruption. He always tried to remain silent when needed, but Dirk couldn't keep his mouth shut. Mark was certain it was caused by Dirk's previous experience as a Jacksonville policeman, and talking during stakeouts with his partner seemed to be his favorite past-time when he had to kill time.

"I see? ", mark sighed loudly, "-my pupils are dilated as fuck, which is why I won't break my stare".

Mark kept his head forward and his hands firmly on the wheel. " I have to catch every light I see bouncing off anything in the distance, and you bothering me is going to break my focus", Mark finished his answer with a hint of anger.

Dirk wasn't surprised at Mark's answer, but he just wanted to pass the time better. He had enough of running the scenarios of what happened then in his head. He had to stop thinking about death for a change.

"And you, Manny? Did you improve on your time yesterday?", Dirk blurted out another sentence and hoped that his Latino companion would be more inclined to enter a conversation.

Manny turned back on his seat and looked up at Dirk. He smiled, put his hand over his nose and then disappeared. Dirk watched with awe as his teammate escaped the bonds of reality and hid himself in plain sight. Sarah was nudged to the side and against the lower Jeep door before she woke up from his nap and saw that an invisible force was pushing her away. She screamed hard and Dirk started laughing, but before she could carry on Mitchel turned around and dropped his hand on the right back sit, hitting Manny on the head and canceling out his invisibility. Manny opened his air and took a deep breath while Sarah seemed to be hyperventilating after having woken up so violently.

"I can keep it up to four minutes twenty if I'm not moving still? about a minute if I-", Manny stopped and cried "ouch" when Sarah punched him in the chest for scaring her. The middle-eastern looking miss started screaming at the aspiring prankster for waking her up while he was invisible and scaring the crap out of her.

"Shut up, Dirk", Mitchel ordered, "We have a long way to go till we hit Palm Bay".

Dirk smiled and said quietly, "Like a mother-fucking Tornado".

City Hall, Palm Bay

1:30 PM, 12th of June, 2013

Workers labored to keep the city hall clean and operating, even after the many renovations the McNeil family had done with the place. The sixty of so inhabitants of what used to be the beacon of democracy and freedom in the city now live comfortably within the hall, relying on the powers of brutal and bloody "persuasion" their super-powered relatives hold.

The workers do their best to stay hidden and unseen, so they may not suffer the wrath of the McNeil family. Once a group of manual workers and servers, the McNeil had taken their rightful place as the rulers of Palm Bay and enslaved the rest of the population to do their bidding. The fear had struck the hearts of many from the unrelenting strikes of George's wind and Danny's inexplicable drunken rage.

The delicacies Jenna and her cousins share in the upper right suite would only be a distant dream for most of the city's dwellers, a dream of an earlier time before all of the madness came into view. Before the collapse, the Irish didn't grasp the city in such a stranglehold ? before the collapse, money was power.

Now? Power was Power.

An emissary had entered the building from the commons entrance and spoke up, rying to catch his breath between words. The winded young man shouted out, "The military is coming; it's coming from the north!", and the family stopped in its tracks. Mouths remained open and conversations stood still. It seemed as if their long reign of five months would come to an end by those who wish to restore the previously grand Republic?

"Then we shall come to fight them", a voice echoed through the halls of the large building. A voice like no other had heard before, one of an elderly mistress of the devil. It spoke, and the young man removed himself immediately. The Jew would command her armies of Irishmen against the forces of long forgotten order, and she will retain her throne.

The six supers in the McNeil branch presented themselves at the noble entrance to the great halls. They all stood uncomfortably, some wearing Kevlar vests stolen from the local police force and others holding firearms as a secondary protection aid. They would have to draw the military's forces into the narrow city streets so their superior numbers would work against them. Explosives were already rigged in some of the city's largest intersections, and the family knew they would have to spill blood to remain in their place.

There was Henry who had already grown used to his greenish skin complexion, trying to jump as low as he could within the walls of his castle. The young boy wasn't that much of a hit with the ladies beforehand, but now only those instructed to be with him dare touch him. He resents Jenna for taking the hand of his blind father, Flint, believing the black woman only wanted to exploit the poor widower. Jenna was the odd one out, a black woman in the midst of a family of white Irishmen.

They didn't hope for the appearance of the city's militia, as they weren't sure who they will favor. The rule of the McNeil family had been harsh, and the people resented them. Whoever remained in Palm Bay had to endure through much abuse, and those who found arms are itching for a time of weakness to come to the house of McNeil.

They waited for the enemy to come to their lair, and there, they shall feast upon its failure. No new power would rise to replace the family.

The McNeil family will remain there forever.

4th avenue, Palm Bay.

2:21 PM, 12th of July, 2013.

The entrance to the city had guards standing in front, but when they saw the uniform on the five soldiers riding the jeep they stood down and lowered their weapons. They didn't wish to engage the army, and they feared the forces of the old government's super units. The group entered the city calmly and Mark raised his left hand in the air for Dirk to see. He unveiled the machine-gun and began to slowly load the heavy weapon. They expected to see some resistance, but nothing was there to stop them.

The silence made them uneasy. But the silence didn't last long.

A trash can they passed by which stood a few feet behind the car exploded in a huge blast, throwing the jeep forward and almost toppling it over. The group knew they had already engaged the enemy, but they couldn't see it.

"Incoming, RPG! Yellow house, third floor!", Mark shouted out to Dirk as he finished loading the heavy gun and he quickly tried to position himself so he could hit the yellow house. .. But there was no yellow house.

"Can't see no fucking yellow house!", Dirk shouted back. Sarah seemed anxious to leave the vehicle, but before she could stand on both of her feet Ben already shot a rocket at the incoming jeep from the yellow house two hundred meters away, at north-north-west. The house belonged to one Geler Shmidt, an accountant who hastily decided that the early collapse had been the sign of end-times and took his own life ? not before killing his three daughters and wife. It was wedged between two apartment buildings, a sight to behold, and the beauty served as one of the McNeil family's summer houses.

Ben stood on the third floor, the whole floor exposed already to the street after a streak of spontaneous renovating his mother made the servants do. His body was already struggling to keep the heavy launcher on his shoulder. One click and the rocket flew away, hitting the road ahead of the jeep and causing the damned vehicle to spur out of control and fall on its side. Tornado team tried to quickly climb out and each of them took their course. Dirk broke the supports for the machine gun and mounted it on the floor, spraying the yellow house with bullets. Suddenly Dirk could see the yellow house ? it seemed like Miriam's mind tricks are paying off. The Jew sat in her comfortable chair with her wrinkly eyes closed, concentrating on the battlefield with her psychic abilities.

Mark ran back to get his equipment situated in a long and thin metal box, one he ran with to the nearby high-story building. It was a brick and mortar red office building, one he had to run through all of its stairs just to reach the top floor ? and from there jump to the roof, one of the tallest places in 4th avenue. From there he could see the incoming truck from seven hundred meters away, where Jenna was already driving in and transporting a few armed normal McNeil family members in.

Sarah already pulled herself out and quickly healed Mitchel who gracious allowed her to keep her powers as she touched his right shoulder. Mitchel was pulled out by Manny who then proceeded to grab some munitions from the back of the truck. He handed Mitchel his rifle and loaded his own, then allowed Sarah to handle her sub-machine gun. They both held TAR-21, one enhanced with a grenade launcher and the other endowed with a medium range scope.
Manny liked to blow shit up.

Ben escaped the heavy fire but abandoned the RPG and missiles behind on the third floor. He went downstairs and got a radio message from Jenna telling him to stay put and wait for a pickup. He tried to hole up in the second floor but the fire from Dirk's Machine-Gun had forced him to flee downstairs and out through the building's backyard, pushing through a passage between two small resident buildings and emerging on the 5th avenue only to meet a few unlucky residents of the city. There were five of them standing together huddled around an open fire with a rusted pot filled with soup on top of it. Ben raised his black glock pistol and pointed it on the gang.

"Get the fuck up and follow me, or die if you want to run", Ben spat out his orders, his menacing voice striking fear in the five city residents who simply wanted to be left alone. There were two women and three men, one of which could read Ben's mind and see what awaited them on the other side. They were going to be cannon fodder, and John knew he wasn't going to die in the crossfire. He and the other four companions followed after Ben orders and started to walk towards the alleyway between two apartment buildings leading to the backyard of the yellow house, separated by a mere fence Ben easily went through.

"You're gonna have to climb a bit, so start soon?", Ben stared at one of the men who seemed unwilling to continue. James stared at the McNeil brother in awe and tried to weigh his possibilities? He had a gun, but James had something better.

Back up on the rooftops, Mark loaded his Springfield rifle and shot at the approaching truck driven by Jenna three times, the fourth bullet successfully hitting its right tire and crashing the vehicle on 23rd street a hundred meters away from the intersection with 4th avenue. The soldiers slowly came back to their senses and climbed out of the truck. Mark pulled his eyes away from the group and tried to scour the battlefield.

He looked around the nearby rooftops and saw a strange figure lumping over some red hunk of what appeared to be raw flesh. The figure was dressed in strange and colorful clothes that appeared to be those of a clown or a circus performer. Mark quickly drew his rifle and took aim at the thing. It was then that Fromanzio was shot in his left arm, throwing him back without notice and shocking the poor sod. Mark didn't have enough time to verify the kill as he heard the others below fighting.

Back on the street level, Manny, Sarah and Mitchel were already advancing forward. Manny was carrying an ammunition belt when Dirk fell down to his knees and dropped the machine-gun on the floor. "Mark, see if I killed the fucker on that house? MARK!", Dirk yelled and waited for a response.

"I can't see a body!", Mark shouted from up above. He kept on scouring the streets, the strange clown thing was still on the ground, but something had already caught his eye. It was a pickup truck turning half a click in front of the crew on street level, driven by Henry with his brother and uncle holding a rifle and a sub-machinegun up above who then started shooting at the Tornado crew without notice.

'You idiot! You're all exposed!', a voice echoed through Henry's mind as his green arms clenched the wheel and his legs straightened to push the pedal down to the floor. Miriam was trying to control the battlefield, but like any battle it was too chaotic to handle. Unlike chess, the pieces themselves move independently of their master, and would only occasionally yield to its demands.

Manny lent a hand to Dirk and loaded the new ammunition belt in the machine-gun. The group of four had to weigh their options, but before all they had to place some suppressive fire on the truck before those bad shots on the back would land a lucky hit on them. Mitchel picked up his rifle and aimed at the truck, successfully hitting one of the McNeil family members, one in his late 40s holding a sub-machinegun. Henry then turned the wheel to the left and left 4th avenue before Mitchel would kill him too. The truck drove a few hundred meters forward before stopping next to what looked like a populated house.

"We can't fucking leave Uncle Vance!", Henry's younger brother shouted at him as the truck stopped. He was still holding his uncle in his arms and hoping that they could save him. The greenish looking teenager opened the truck door and hopped out.

"Relax, twerp. I know the guy here?", the greenish teenager in a set of fancy clothes began to move forward in a strange fashion. His back slumped forward and his knees bent completely, he hopped forward until he reached the front door and knocked on it.

"Open up, it's McNeil!", Henry shouted out loud. The sound of the key shaking inside the hole could be heard, but the door was quickly opened and the frog man looked up to see a young woman standing in the entrance. Sarah was at her early twenties and Henry seemed to approve of her beautiful appearance, but she didn't think the same of him. He pushed her aside and looked inside.

"Doc!", Henry hopped inside of the house and looked around. He recognized many of the city's previous inhabitants sitting in the hall or peering through doors to see who it was that entered their home. It was Dr. Caldwell's clinic; he together with a nurse and a veterinarian had been running this place for the last few months and looking after some of the city's injured and ill. The other occupants would try and feed the rest, while almost a third proved to be utterly useless. The McNeil family didn't mind the little group's operations; in fact it allowed them to continue under their watchful eye. Henry turned around and shouted out to his younger brother.

"Mel, get Vance here! We got to get back and help the negro", Henry said without flinching. His younger brother knew that Henry hated their step-mother, but he was the only one in the family who would hear Henry speak to her that way and not tell the others about it. Henry saw the doctor walk down the stairs to the first floor and raised his hand in the air to greet him.
"We need you to take after Vance, he got shot by some army fucks-", Henry said enthusiastically. He looked back to the street and saw Mel struggling with Vance's bleeding body.

"Help the boy, woman!", he ordered Sarah to help his younger brother lift their uncle. The fourteen year old was still a weakling compared to Henry, and on top of that he wasn't endowed with any power.

"I will? I will get you whatever you need, we have supplies. You want protection?", Henry stared at the few others who were brave enough to keep looking at the meeting from the various doors leading to the first floor's rooms. "You need food?", Henry forced a smile on his face and extended his hand forward. He looked back and saw the young woman helping Mel with carrying Vance inside.

"Deal?", Henry asked the Doc eagerly with his hand extended to meet his in a handshake.

Back at Saint Mary's general hospital, Palm Bay's few and precious surgeons and doctors worked under the watchful eye of the McNeil family, or so they thought. With her attention directed at the battlefield and all of the family's able members ready to defend their estates, the hospital remained unattended, though those inside were oblivious to what was happening two kilometers away. The sound of explosions was dull and barely aroused any suspicious in the full cast of the city's finest.

Louie was working on helping a young child with his ankle when one of his "friends" came into the room. It was a stuffed hospital room with six beds in it where there should have only been two, but the people of the city couldn't be too picky about their health nowadays. He was a rather young and enthusiastic boy in his late teenage years, a Haitian immigrant who had lost his mother in the early riots after the collapse.

"Sir!... sir", he spoke anxiously, "The McNeil family? they're losing their throne!". The boy smiled and pushed himself closer to Louie . He held his arm and tried to tear him away from his patient.

"They're fighting the army? We can kill whoever is left, and you can be King, and Loa will be pleased!", the boy spoke in such enthusiasm that he didn't notice all of the others in the room heard him as well. Another patient sat on a hospital bed and tried to scratch his skin, but nothing seemed to be able to penetrate himself. Rico sat on the bed and pulled his knees back, pressing them against his chest with his arms. The man had been trying to figure out what went wrong with him for the past few days, and the doctors in the hospital didn't care at all for a man who seemed neither injured nor hurt in any way. Hearing of the ongoing battle in the other side of the city, Rico seemed to be intrigued. Who was this Loa they were talking about, and why did the doctor had a special envoy dispatched for him?

Back at the city hall, the elderly woman sat at her throne and tried to concentrate on the battlefield. She was surprised she couldn't spot the mad man in colorful attire who was shot by one of the army men, but she was pleased with his early termination. Another pest she won't have to deal with. The rest of the McNeil family was in city hall, all worrying about the fate of their husbands, sons, fathers and brothers. The few men who were told to stay indoors and protect the others in case of the front lines falling were sitting in the commons entrance and playing cards on an empty wooden crate. Danny, the largest of the five, seemed to be winning with his hand against his three cousins and father. Their guns laid on the side of the entrance, but they didn't worry much about using them. They were sure nobody would dare to show himself in front of the city hall.

"Hey, he can see our cards!", one of Dan's cousins spoke up as he eyed Flinch who stood nearby and stared forward. Dan leaned to his right and smacked his cousins' neck for being an imbecile. Dan was huge, even for the McNeil family, and any strike from him was bound to upset most people. He was careful not to use his power on the young boy, or else his brains would have already been splattered on the marble stairs at the entrance.

"He's blind, asshole!", Dan shouted at his cousin. He opened his hand and placed his cards down with a smirk on his face.

"It's a straight flush. I win!", Dan announced triumphantly. His father and two cousins all threw their cards on the wooden crate at the same time and started cursing the lucky Dan. The third cousin, the one who just recently made a fool out of himself threw his cards on the crate with a smirk on his face.

"Four Kings! I win!", he announced and quickly threw his hands at the assortment of power bars and bandages in the middle of the wooden crate, but before he could scoop up his loot Dan stopped his left hand in its place. He grunted and looked up towards his uncle.

"Flint, tell this ass I won the pot, a flush beats four kings!", Dan shouted at the blind man. Flint shook his head in disappointment, opened his mouth and clicked his tongue, which sent a small shockwave through the area and shocked his five family members.

"Get it inside, you morons. People are gathering, riling up? I can see them coming this way. I can't do jack or I'll make you all deaf.", Flint spoke in a monotone, cold tone. The old man could see through the city like a bat, and the gathering crowd which was about to hit the city hall wasn't a good thing to look forward too.

On the other side of Main Street, the city's once downtrodden prepare themselves to storm the McNeil palace ? one which was once city hall ? and kill those bastards. With their forces drawn to the incoming military, the people knew they could kill the few remaining guards and overthrow the dictators.

Among those who took arms was Daryl who already had a few of his identical twins roaming the city and Gavin who knew he had to keep a low profile or the locals would turn on him too. Both of them remained oblivious to each other as a second generation supers, but they were all a part of a large crowd of over three hundred who had gathered together, holding blunt objects, knives and rocks to overthrow their tyrants.

Over at the fancier side of town where the McNeil women would shop and spend their time, the city's 5th street was still filled with shops, restaurants and hair saloons that operated under the grace of the McNeil family. They were all supplied and guarded by the family, so that they may preserve some sense of the old world in their life. That area, no without the constant watchful eyes of the McNeil family had quickly turned into a popular site for looters. Having scavenged all of the city's abandoned residential areas and industrial sites, the unprotected gem of the city was just too much for the poor bastards of the city to overlook. Among the looters was an enthusiastic Charles who seemed to be itching to abuse his power and get his hands on whatever he desired. Lenneth participated in the barbaric ritual of stripping the whole street down and tearing away anything with value, though she knew that today she will be able to stand up to any that would try to stop her.

A couple of kilometers away from the city's center, Ottis was about to enjoy some private time with his dear wife when the sound of two explosions echoing in the distance almost made him cook his wife's thigh. The incident was then followed by a series of screams from his wife, the last of which inquired as to what the hell the explosions were about.
[HEADING=2]Character Sheets[/HEADING]​
Name: Sarah Brooks

Alias: ?

Gender: Female

Age: 23

Appearance: She is of a short, stout build with long brown hair and dark brown eyes. As well as the thick glass she requires, she'd usually be seen wearing simple clothes (jeans and a shirt) in her day to day life. Since the acquisition of her powers, however, she has already gleefully created a rather shoddy looking deep blue costume complete with a cape and bright yellow "S" stitched on the front, which she likes to don whenever given the opportunity.

Previous profession(s): Before the collapse she worked as a manager in an office for a multi-national corporation that sells stationery. Her time working taught her a great deal about organisation and the mechanics of running a business, skills that were sadly almost entirely redundant after the collapse. Without any marketable abilities in these chaotic times, she quickly lost her steady source of income and was forced into a life of scavenging and petty theft in order to survive. She has managed to get by mostly by virtue of being unnoticed, though she has had to relocate several times after being caught stealing food and supplies from various thugs and lowlifes.

Skills: Sarah is reasonably intelligent and has a large amount of knowledge in the areas of maths, computers and business administration, along with a good street-sense obtained by living through her recent hardships.

Weaknesses: With poor eating habits brought on by the difficulty in obtaining decent food, she is not in particularly good health physically, and tires out quite quickly. She is also severely short sighted, and while she can still function relatively normally without her glasses, she needs them in order to be able see anything other than a blurry mess at a distance greater than 15 or so metres.

Family status: Sarah is single, and relatively withdrawn from society. The only person she truly cares about now is her mother, whom she has not been able to get into contact with for a while. Since her mother lived a long distance away before the collapse, she hopes that the lack of communication is only due to the difficulty in getting messages from so far away.

Special power: Sarah has the power to alter the physical properties (mass, density, tensile strength, etc) of her body at will. This can be utilised in a variety of ways, from giving her the power to smash her way through walls and barriers with extreme momentum, to absorbing and reflecting impacts by becoming temporarily elastic. It even gives her the ability to deflect bullets and piercing weapons by hardening her skin.

Special weakness: She only has power over her own body, which means her ability to affect those out of reaching distance is very limited. She also has very little defence against attacks that are not kinetic or physical in nature, other than to use her abilities to escape. Extreme high or low temperature could still easily damage her, for example, as could any attack focused against her mind.

Personality: Sarah was a quiet and reserved person before obtaining her powers, and she generally went unnoticed by those around her (as she preferred). The potential power of her new abilities quickly intoxicated her, however, and now she wishes to go out and prove her worth as much as possible. While she is generally good natured, she's also rash and quick to act on her emotions, as well as overconfident in the strength of her new power.

Biography: Sarah's father left when she was extremely young and her mother raised her alone without ever mentioning him. Growing up she didn't interact with her peers much at all, preferring to spend her time reading and playing video games, and she passed through her school life unnoticed by those around her.

Academically, she always performed above average, and after passing through college it was easy for her to get a reasonably well paying job as an administrator for a large multi-national corporation. When she was offered a higher-paid position in an office in another state, she accepted, eager to move away from her mother and her endless attempts at match-making.

At her new apartment, she resumed her solitary life uninterrupted until the collapse saw her lose her job. Her business related skills were significantly less valued in modern times, and her lack of other marketable abilities forced her to move from location to location, living in extreme poverty and resorting to theivery and scavanging in order to survive.

One day, after being caught stealing from a relatively well connected thug, she failed to escape him and a group of his armed friends. Cornered down a dead-end alley, she braced herself to be attacked, only to find the impacts of baseball bats and knives simply bounced harmlessly off her. Bewildered, her pursuers stepped back in amazement, giving her the chance to attempt to charge back through the gang and escape. What she didn't expect was to simply bowl several of the large and heavy men aside, sending them flying back several feet as she ran through.

Gathering her wits after her miraculous survival, Sarah realised that this was no divine intervention or random stroke of luck, and that she was no longer a normal human. After performing several simple experiments on herself to learn the extent of her newfound power, she decided she would use this gift in order to provide a better life for herself, and hopefully to help those around her in the process. No longer would she have to live as a vagrant, she was now one of humanity's elite, and she was determined to go out and prove her strength to the world.


New member
Mar 18, 2011
Name: Fomell Ziolkowski

Alias: Fromanzio

Gender: Male

Age: 27


Ever since he gained his powers, Fromanzio saw the best way to convey himself was as a court jester. Inspired by a few circus acts, he made an amalgamation and came up with a costume, makeup always being essential though varying slightly depending on the time he has.

Previous profession(s): Fromell was a banker by trade, ironic but true.

Skills: Fromell knows bank systems inside and outside, he can launder money if needed and has connections with a lot of influential people. Aside from that, his power aside from giving him flight, also gave him increased agility, speed and made his eyesight and punching power slightly above that of an average human.

Weaknesses: Unfortunately, it also drove him entirely mad. The only thing you can rely on Fromanzio for is being entirely unreliable. Weather he is blowing up his own allies, backstabbing for the hell of it, or even killing the person who hired him, he can not be directed, more as aimed in a general direction.

Family status: He did have a family before his incident, but they assume him to be dead. He was not known for disappearing acts and he has mostly forgotten them due to the madness. He had a wife and two children.

Special power: Flight. Fromanzio can fly at a max speed of about fourty, though he can reach faster speeds by allowing himself to freefall and continue flight foward.

Special weakness: When fights get especially chaotic and hectic, or it looks like he will lose. His mind snaps and he will attempt to simply kill everyone. Though he can be stopped, it takes a long time and he will simply laugh afterwards.

Personality: As an alignment, he is chaotic neutral at best. He does not serve any particular purpose and enjoys killing for the sake of it. His entire moral compass was horrifically twisted with the personality change and his sanity is arguably non existent. He can go between being passive, to angry, to blacking out and killing everything in moments though those times are rare.

Biography: Fromell was born and raised Hasidic Jewish and rarely broke from his traditions. Even to this day he still refuses to eat pork, though Sabbath traditions went out the window. He went to college in business and was entirely sucessful, fell in love with a woman in the area and married very quickly at age twenty.

Married life for him was very simple, though there were a few disputes. While both were religious, his wife was catholic and they eventually agreed to simply show both religions to their kids and allow them to make their own choices in life. Such was how he raised them as long as he was around. His first kid was born when Fromell was twenty two, the second one coming a year after. Overall his married life was very successful as they both worked and enjoyed each other's company.

Then, it happened. The mutants took over and his city was flipped upside down. He found himself and his family a serf in a matter of days and he had no way out. Whenever a group of mutants came to kill humans for fun, Fromell knew ways to avoid them and keep his family alive. For months, he avoided and dodged them. All of that came to a close a week ago, when he discovered his own powers.

Fromell was working his daily shift when he found himself surrounded by the gangs he had been avoiding for months. They were making jokes and pushing him around, ready to kill him. It was in his desperation that it awoke. Whatever demon was inside him was unleashed and Fromell rocketed in the air, the blast sending shrapnel to kill a few of the mutants attacking him.

Fromell found solace in a nearby roof and slept there for the night, the transformation finalizing. When he woke up, he was no longer Fromell Ziolkowski. All he had left to remember was his ID and that was smudged with enough blood so he could only see From and Zio. He decided his blood was covering the name Fromanzio and went with it.

Everything seemed natural to him now, running and jumping at high speeds, anything money related and he soon found a liking in guns. His first being aquired off a nearby mugger. Eventually crime will catch up to you however, though ironically, it was not the police that found him. The crips found him and wanted vengance for killing a few of their gangsters. What they did not expect, was for Fromanzio to jump over all of their heads and kill them instantly. This caught the attention of their boss and Fromanzio found himself in an entirely new world.

When the boss met him, he was still wearing a bloodly and ragged business suit and the new clothes did not last long either. Fromanzio's general attitude got him nicknamed the "Killer Klown" and the boss got the wonderful idea to have him start dressing the act. Fromanzio took it in stride and based his outfit on people from the circus, of which he remembered in fragments and ended up with an amalgamation of what he thought a clown was.

It was not but a few days after; that Fromanzio found himself in a shootout. Himself and multiple other super powered gang members were tasked with causing a distraction for looting to occur. When he found himself almost surrounded, it drove him off the wall and although Fromanzio blacked out. When he woke up all of the people around him were dead, seemingly by his own bullets. Now he is on the run again, avoiding the gangs again and trying to stay alive.

Name: Warren Johnson

Alias: None yet

Gender: Male

Age: 50

Appearance: Warren is an old man. He wears comfortable slacks and plain button down shirts undone at the collar. Brown or black leather shoes finish off his ensemble, unless he's working in the garden, in which he rolls up his sleeves and puts on some gumboots and a large hat to keep the sun off. His face is weathered and has good defined laugh lines. Salt-and-Pepper hair is cropped close to his scalp and his eyes are open and approachable. He's tanned from spending years outdoors in the garden.

Previous professions: Warren used to be a botanist and owned a flower shop, but after the collapse, well, people weren't really looking for flowers any more. He just tends to his garden as best he can and finds casual work wherever he can.

Skills: Good with a pair of secateurs and can trim a hedge like no one else around. He also has a very good nose for different scents.

Weaknesses: Warren's bones aren't what they used to be, in fact, much of him isn't what he used to be. Age does that to a man. His knees and back are ruined thanks to decades of working in the garden, and he?s had few close calls with skin cancer in the past.

Family status: A wife of twenty six years called Marie and two sons, one Bert, and the other Ernie. Both were at college overseas before the Collapse, and they haven't been able to get in contact with them since. He and his wife get along well, there's still love. His parent's passed away a few years ago.

Special power: At this current point in time Warren?s affliction seems to be taunting him. His skin has turned green and lost all but the smallest feeling. His eyes and hair have turned as golden yellow as the petals on a sunflower and his limbs have elongated until he stands at about 9 ft, gangly and pointed looking. He can shrug off most blunt damage like this, and doesn?t feel anything except the sun through his skin. Any kind of piercing or slashing will cleave through his thin limbs however, and with a bit more effort, his torso as well. Warren has the ability to call on roots or plants and trees from the ground beneath him, and to control the growth of grass, using them both to constrict and strangle his foes. His own roots are far stronger than those of even the largest tree, and have small, toothy mouths at the ends, for devouring the flesh of those he captures.

Special weakness: If Warren?s limbs are chopped off he will usually almost immediately retreat so he can plant himself and grow it back. He drops roots into the ground and feeds on the nutrients and sun like any plant would. In this state he is resting and more plant like than ever. His sentience dims to practically naught. Nothing will shake him out of this period until his limbs are regrown, and that depends entirely on the soil and sunlight saturation. As he usually does this in his old garden, it?s about a 12 hours under the sun to regrow an arm or leg. Around 16 anywhere else. Warren is also highly flammable; along with the roots and grasses he controls; and he?s learning to avoid fire at all costs or suffer the consequences, but Warren?s greatest weakness is his mind. Since the beginning of his transformation he?s felt off, as if there is something wrong with how he is, and that he should correct it. A nudging, gnawing feeling at the back of his skull. As he uses his powers more and more this becomes louder, ferocious, and angry. Warren doesn?t know what to do about it. He?s paranoid enough as it is, any more worries are just going to be distracting.

Personality: Warren lives for the beauty of this earth. He enjoys simple pleasures, a wild garden, the sun beating down his neck, a glass of ice water from his wife. This is how he wants to live his life, and how he thinks others should value what they have. He finds laziness and those without direction to be unforgivable. Even the smallest goal is worthy of chasing. He will defend his way of life till the end, sacrificing his sleep and health for the continued happiness of his loved ones. After his powers full manifest themselves Warren degenerates somewhat. His mind dims and he begins to focus only on survival. A breeding ground of hatred brews up beneath his old demeanour and he can be utterly brutal in battle when truly threatened with fire. His own will is no longer his own, instead it is the will of the plant, of the sunflower.

Biography: Born and raised in Florida, Warren has always had a taste for the outdoors of life. His parents ran a small motel on the outskirts of his town and catered to a number of travellers and tourists every week. There was a large back garden filled with plants of all kinds and Warren would often help his mother out tending to the plants.
This was how he lived, accepting and learning from his parents and the people who passed through. He became happy with the way things were and was content going with the flow of things until he found a place that suited him.
He met Marie in high school and they have been together since, not without a few quarrels though, often concerning his work and her choice of employment. They married when he was 24 and had children soon after. Marie worked as a sales clerk for a while before being inspired by other women making it big in the business world and branching out. Warren, ever the traditionalist, wanted things to stay uncomplicated. But he relented in the end.
In the end it was a good decision, and Warren was grateful to Marie for allowing him to keep his lifestyle uninhibited and even accentuated thanks to the money coming in.
Of course, everything changed with the Collapse. Marie's business went under, and the cash flow stopped. Powered humans took advantage all around them, taking what they liked and giving little or nothing back.
Warren found himself without purpose. Marie was desolate. They holed up in their small house prayed for their sons and for the sake of the world. Warren's only solace was in his garden. Marie found a little work for one of the newly-christened lords of the area as a secretary of sorts, which gave them enough money to live by. But soon Warren?s power began to manifest itself.
Small things at first; the heads and flowers of his beloved plants would follow him as he worked, the grass would swell and becomes lush when he knelt in it for a while, and sometimes, when he?d go to stand up, he?d feel a slight tugging, as if he was being held down by roots.
He didn?t mention any of this to Marie though; he didn?t want to worry her any more than she already was. Working for the Lord was dangerous work, and he wanted to maintain the semblance of normality for as long as possible.
Then one night, it happened. The bed they shared cracked under the added weight or Warren?s new body, and explosion of vines and creepers spread throughout the house, grass erupted through the floor and new born roots, hungry and eager, sapped the life of his sleeping with, devouring her.
Warren awoke and turned to the sun. His wife was gone already, working early. There seemed to be too much greenery in the house, no matter. The garden called to him, whispering, humming. He must attend to it.

Lenneth Valkyrie, or The dark seraphim.
Appearance: pale white skin, blood red eyes that glow in the dark in the same color, long black hair, she's got some kind of black tattoo around her left eye and long pointed ears. build wise she's athletic with a nice figure. she also has two sets of pitch black wings one set smaller then the other and used primarily as stabilizers.
Died after allying herself with the McNeil one last time and failing to stop Fromanzio from clipping her wings and throwing her from the top of the McNeil palace.

Name: Rico Jarvis

Alias: Rock, Stoneskin

Gender: Male

Age: 19

Appearance: Caucasian male, 6"1, broad American Football player physique, closet consists entirely of jeans and T-shirts.

Previous profession(s): Shoe-store stocker, student.

Skills: Excellent lineman on the college football team, and thus is good at maintaining balance and not allowing people to get past him. Quick at math, good reflexes, throws a fairly mean punch. Fairly adept with computers and has a large array of escape and survival skills (breaking down doors, picking simple locks, outdoorsmanship, etc) picked up from survival guides.

Weaknesses: Rico was a bit of a shut-in until recently, so his diplomatic skills are stunted. He's quite blunt. He gets bored easily, and sometimes ends up doing stupid things to amuse himself. He no longer needs rescuing when his stupid actions go wrong, but he may endanger others. He still cannot drive. He is very curious and often sticks his nose where he really shouldn't.

Family status: Single. His family (parents and sister) lives in the city, but Rico lives in a College dorm with a roommate.

Special power: Rico has found that he has become utterly indestructible. Any injuries that would cause any notable damage to him have the pain dulled to non-existence and simply don't happen. For example, he'll feel and be annoyed by a clip on the back of the head or a good pinch, but a good punch will only make him recoil and feel almost nothing, and a long fall will only wind him. Attempts to cut his skin are as effective as trying to cut titanium, and enormous shearing forces only pin Rico instead of ripping him apart. Drowning makes him uncomfortable, but after a couple minutes of coughing and gasping, he's good to go.

Special weakness: Rico has no accompanying super-strength, combat abilities, or any other powers, and he still obeys the laws of physics. He can be pinned, locked in a room with a lock he cannot pick, restrained with electromagnets, or otherwise be overwhelmed and restrained. Also, while he cannot be pierced with syringes, he can still be poisoned/sickened by anything he ingests orally.

Personality: Rico is a recovering loner. He's also a bit of a goody-two-shoes who wants to do the right thing all the time. He will attempt to save anyone he can reach that's in danger, but has an affinity for kids. He's a bit of an optimist when things are going well for him, but a vicious cynic when they aren't. He has a passive-aggressive streak and an ever-present sense of black humor.

Biography: Having grown up in a completely ordinary home, going to an ordinary school, working an ordinary job as a shoe-stocker and showing ordinary loner tendencies, all the way to choosing the most ordinary college he could find, Rico was a very ordinary person. He finally began to bloom a bit at college, having joined the football team and excelled at it. He does well enough at his studies in music and education, with a sprinkling of dumb antics with his newest friends after classes.

And then they showed up.

During the Collapse, not a whole lot changed at first. His side job in the warehouse remained relevant (who doesn't need shoes?) and he was allowed to continue his studies. His family assured him that they could take care of themselves, so he tries not to think of them too much. Then, they told him that his degree in music was irrelevant and railroaded him into computer engineering. Angry, Rico continued to do music on the side, hoping the mutated freaks would all up and die at some point.

One day, as he cut through an alleyway to get home from work, a drunk mutant accosted him in the alleyway, and demanded to know what he was doing. Honesty being the best policy, Rico told him that he was off to his flat. When asked what he was going to do there, he said that he planned on studying a new vinyl record of ambient music he'd bought. The mutant laughed and told him to sing it. When Rico told him that it was ambient, and thus couldn't be sung, the mutant stumbled forward and angrily punched him with super-strength. Rico soared through the air and hit a brick wall, putting a hole in it. He waited for the wave of pain, but it didn't come.

The mutant muttered something about getting sloppy and "punch him in half", and thenn started slamming Rico into the remains of the wall. Finally, he threw Rico again clean out of the alley, and was promptly buried by the collapsing wall, allowing Rico to escape.

Back at his flat, Rico panicked and attempted to injure himself in any way he could. He failed over and over. Finally, after calming down, praying and reflecting a bit, he vowed to himself to help out anyone being attacked by the mutants.

Name: Louie Labeaux (Luh-bow)

Alias: Saturday, Louie the Bone, the Witch Doctor

Gender: Male

Age: 31

Appearance: Louie is 6'3 with bright green eyes, thick, slicked back raven hair, and skin the color of a dark oak coffin. He likes to dress in a variety of snazzy outfits, but his favoriteis a "blood red", silk sports coat with tails that reach just above the back of his knees and matching red pants. He wears a black button up shirt under the coat, and red neck tie, plus a pair of dark tinted sunglasses and shiny black alligator shoes. To cap it all off, he wears a red, 7.5 inch tall top hat with a black band above the brim. He also carries several small pouches inside his coat filled with various voodoo recipes, plus needles and a multi-purpose knife.

Previous profession(s): He was a smuggler, advisor, and spiritual guide to a Haitian immigrant gang, but then he started his own operation in New Orleans.

Skills: Saturday is a voodoo priest and has many different powders and potions that do different things. He is also a master of human anatomy and surgery, both skills he acquired during his voodoo practices. He is a very good judge of character and persuasive, both things he picked up with the gang. And lastly, he is immune to virtually all types of poison, hypnotism, and chemical agents.

Weaknesses: He is very superstitious, and can be killed like a normal person.

Family status: His parents are both dead, he hasn?t seen his twin sister since he left Haiti (but she might still be alive), and he has no children.

Special power: His voodoo powers have increased greatly. He can do bodily harm to people with a proper voodoo doll, and he has found that he is able to create 3 special concoctions by mixing his own blood into them. The first is Zombie Powder: when you inhale it, it turns you into his lobotomized zombie minion. The second is The Baron's Liquor: A poison so deadly that you will die within 10 second of it hitting your blood stream, Saturday likes to dip his weapons in this. And the third is Liquid JuJu: which, when drunk, grants strength and pain resilience several times that of a regular man's for a limited time, but the potion is very hard on the body, and dangerous to use even once, except for Saturday. Finally, he can see the "inhuman Juju" surrounding other super humans, so he knows who they are, even if they look normal.

Special weakness: His powers can only be used if he focuses them with voodoo ritual. He can?t just whip out a ken doll and decapitate everyone in the area. Things must be done properly.

Personality: Saturday is a very mysterious person, claiming (and believing) he is in direct contact with the loa spirits of voodoo lore. He tends to give the impression of a predatory animal and has very little regard for human life, a product of his rough boyhood.

Biography: Louie was born one Saturday evening in Haiti as part of a ritual where the parents are sacrificed to Baron Samedi in order to grant him the child as an earthly vessel. The ritual didn?t work however because the voodoo practitioners hadn?t prepared for twins. The ritual failed and the two were taken into the care of the witch doctor that had been orchestrating the ritual. He taught them voodoo practices and how to read and write, until he died of the flu when the twins were 10, leaving them to live as street urchins. Louie, when he was 14, began working for a band of local criminals to help provide for his sister, being their spiritual advisor. When he was 18 the government began sweeping the streets of ?undesirables? and the children?s only option was to leave the country, or die in prison. Louie?s sister gave him some savings of hers to pay for illegal boat passage to America, and stayed behind, not having enough money for two tickets.

Falling back on old habits, he joined a gang of Haitian immigrants, and once again found himself in the role of group witch doctor. It was here he gained the name Saturday (the day seen as belonging to Baron Samedi) because of the story of his birth. With the resources available to him in America he perfected his talents, becoming capable of making frighteningly powerful concoctions and dissecting a person without killing them. When he turned 23, he began his own gang/cult in New Orleans, where he learned how to be a leader and began working his dark arts on a larger scale. His voodoo clan became like a local horror story. They kidnapped, converted, and killed dozens of people, but the follower?s fear of/devotion to Saturday made sure that no matter how many were caught, he never went down. But when the collapse happened, thing took a turn for the worse. His group?s reputation preceded them in a bad way. The rampant vigilantism in the early days of the collapse led to Saturday?s gang being assaulted by multiple ?heroes?. The gang turned to Saturday for guidance, and he told them this must be a tesh of their strength, but in reality, he viewed this as a sacrifice. It had been a long time since the Loa had seen such a large group of modern practitioners, and Saturday believed Baron Samedi was claiming these converted souls for a feast. Saturday allowed them to be killed off, where it was reasonable, but did not kill any himself, he would not dare take the pleasure from the Baron. Once things had calmed down, the people left in charge realized that Saturday himself was still out there.

To escape capture, Saturday moved back to Florida, where he originally came to America, and where he is now. For the last few months, he has been hiding in plain sight as a surgeon in the local hospital. Surgeons were in high demand after the bloody chaos of the collapse and his intimate knowledge of the workings of the human body allowed him to pick up a job easily. After playing doctor for 5 weeks Saturday, known to his co-workers as Louie Labeaux, was able to get in contact with some of the survivors from his old gang in Florida. He was able to gather about 12 other men who would follow him, and for the last 2 months they have been finding Haitian and Jamaican immigrants, as well as anyone else that will join, and building into a voodoo gang/cult once again, with Saturday as their leader. He has a group of roughly 40 men and women who look to him as their leader and meet in secret. All the while he has kept up his Doctor identity as a cover, occasionally using it to get his hands on chemicals needed for voodoo potions.

He discovered his powers during a recent meeting of his cult. During the ceremony, he heard a message from the Baron Samedi in his mind, telling him that his blood was the key to the power of the Loa. So he created a new mixture with his own blood that gave him and 3 of his acolytes amazing physical strength. They took advantage of their power by finding a near by drug lab and killing almost everyone inside with their bare hands. They kidnapped 5 addicts and took them back to the hideout (a forgotten underground distillery from Prohibition times) where he tested his other new powers. Two of them he killed with the Baron's Liquor, two of them he "converted" with Zombie Powder, and the last he made a special example of, executing them through use of voodoo dolls. Of the 3 men that drank the Liquid Juju, 1 suffered heart failure later that night, and the other two went to the hospital with severe muscle deterioration and liver damage. Saturday's apparent immunity to these effects only solidified the idea of his blessedness.

He can't wait to please the Loa in the times to come.

Name: Gavin Garvin

Alias: The Condor, GRAV

Gender: Male

Age: 25

Appearance: A black male with chesnut colored skin and hazel eyes, typically seen in uniform, a white hoodie under a blue bullet proof vest with a pair of black jeans. He wears blue knee and elbow pads, as well as military grade combat boots. A pair of flight goggles can be found dangling for his neck. He has a belt equipped with a small radio and a grappling hook and a couple of air tanks.

Previous profession(s): Gavin was an Air Force pilot, following his grandfather's footsteps, with plans of eventually moving into aerospace engineering. He and a number of pilots were sent to combat certain superhumans. Gavin is still apart of a fractured air force but won't often find himself piloting, typically just hanging onto the wing and operating as "superhuman consultant" for any official outings, dealing with most superhumans or attempting to make it look like what remains of the military has things under control. A program is currently in the planning stages to contain-err, "recruit" any known superhumans who haven't proven themselves to be a threat.

Skills: His father pointed him towards weight training but his mother guided him to skydiving, base jumping, and bungee jumping. The type of things other mothers faint at. For whatever reason, his mother is constantly making odd suggestions that turn out to be extremely useful later on in life. Without these experiences, Gavin might as well be shit when using his powers. Gavin dismisses it as a mother thing. Engineering classes in highschool gave him an interest in electronics, causing him to tinker with radios, televisions, and other devices occasionally.

Weaknesses: Gavin has a long fuse but a very small boiling point. He tends to bottle up his emotions and issues, meaning that at some point even the tiniest of tribulations while he's in a bad mindset could set Gavin off. He tends to have problems handling stress. His parents introduced him to weight training and electronics to help him, the collapse on the other hand isn't helping. He also takes his family extremely seriously and will get aggravated at even minor jokes.

Family status: Gavin has a younger brother and a sister living with his parents in an old bunker his grandfather owned. He tries to keep his ties separate but can't help himself, occasionally talking to them on a radio or dropping by, playing some basketball with his brother, having a tea part with his sister, and simply talking with his parents.

Special power: Gavin can reduce gravity. He can reduce an area's gravity, making objects around him lighter This allows Gavin to leap incredibly far and land without injury from heights. He can't change direction mid air, so he uses a grappling hook to latch on and quickly pull him in. He jump to altitudes where the air is thinner, so he carries a few air tanks to prevent himself from passing out. He typically has no reason to jump this high, since it's harder to control his landing destination from that high up, but figures it's better to be safe than sorry. Gavin can manipulate the gravity of specific objects, but it takes a bit more focus. He cannot fully negate gravity or enhance it.

Typically, when engaging a hostile, he'll attempt to get them off their feet or off balance, then reduce the gravity around them. Once they're air born, he'll let momentum do the rest before re-engaging gravity. Gavin can also decrease gravity and jump upwards, propelling himself, amplifying what would've been an average upper punch. He can't punch through walls, but typically he finds himself punching other people. Gavin can also fire a minor repulsive blast. They don't do much damage on their own, typically just throwing an enemy a few feet off the ground, sending them flying for a bit before knocking them into something or falling back to the ground.

Special weakness: Gavin has found that intensified Ultraviolet rays appear to weaken his power, decreasing his effect on gravity and negating it completely. The Earth's atmosphere and other gasses block most UV rays, only having a minor affect on him and possibly explaining why he can't negate gravity all together, but when intensified his powers are negate. On certain days, more UV rays penetrate than on normal days and only slightly dampen, so he tends to wear a hoodie to keep himself partially protected.

Personality: Gavin tries to respect all he meets unless they turn out to be asses. He's a genuinely good person, but understands that certain things have to be done. However, he refuses to drop to the level of certain superhumans. He's not the most social person, yet tries to support and enjoy the company of average people when he can. He'll swoop down to help however he can, not like he has much else to except occasionally beat up rowdy superhumans. He use to love the idea of being a superhero and was extremely jealous when he people started gaining them left and right. He still latches on to the dream of joining the Justice League and fighting along side the greatest heroes in comic history, but sadly they're fictional. Gavin tries not to think about this too often, it depresses him, acknowledging how corruptible people are.

Biography: Born in Iowa, Gavin Garvin lived a relatively calm and simple life. He had a minor interest in trains, but as he grew, he developed an interest in flight. Before his grandfather died, he'd tell of courageous stories detailing the actions of pilots high above the battlefield, waging their own war in the sky. These inspired him to join the Air Force and perhaps eventually move on to aerospace engineering. His family was extremely excited, especially his grandad. However, his families excitement was slightly dampened as the number of superhumans committing crimes grew. Gavin thought nothing of it, trying to focus on his work and serve his country, but his grandfather felt something coming. Mom agreed with him, staring at grandfather sadly, Gavin noted. He cleaned out an old bunker he had, stocking it with supplies. Gavin thought he was overreacting...until he found myself flying at a guy who could cut my jet in half by blinking. Gavin's plane got shredded and he found himself plummeting towards the ground. But as he fell, he slowed down, felt his feet touch the ground, pushed upwards, jumped towards the superhuman, and did the only logical thing: Punched that ************ in the goddamn face.

He eventually got an alias, mainly based off the names his buddies gave him: The Condor, due to a weird noise he made flight training and was overheard on his radio as he punched the superhuman. He mentally groaned at the crappy name, but let them pat his back as he worried about his family. They thought he was a hero. But Gavin didn't like that. Superheroes weren't a good thing in comic books anymore. This became more evident when the superhuman Gavin had stopped escaped containment and attempted to kill his family. The superhuman only found Gavin's grandfather sitting at home with a shotgun, after convincing his father to take the rest of the family and hide out in the bunker. Gavin doesn't know who shot first, mind slice or buck shot, but the point is only one person left the room alive. Somewhere that superhuman is slicing more things up with a bullet wound in his shoulder or arm. Meanwhile, Gavin's grandfather was waiting for him to come...his head severed from his body. Gavin saw this, horrified and absolutely furious. Within those few minutes, even with his new found abilities, Gavin never felt heavier in his entire life. As superhumans began to abuse their powers more and more, Gavin made a choice. Perhaps there was still room in the world for a superheroes. Problem was that it was gonna be crowded with a whole lot of villains.

Name: Ottis Mccoy

Alias: Blitzkrieg

Gender: Male

Age: 52


Previous profession(s): "Original" Old school Punk rocker, Skater,

Skills: Plays guitar, Sings like crap (lead singer of his band), Knows basic first aid since he deplores doctors, Knows how to tend bar, Athletic, and very agile,

Weaknesses: Drinking, fighting and yelling. Three of his favorite past times.

Family status: Married with 3 kids. All whom live in the city. To most people's surprise, they are very close, loving family. Beth his wife (age 52) homemaker, Sid (28)pawn shop owner, Joey (24)garbageman, Frank (26) works for his brother sid.

Special power: Converts sound waves [http://powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Sound_Conversion] into electricity. Making him immune to the hazardous effect of loud sounds and electricity. If he doesn't concentrate the electricity escapes his body in whatever is the easiest route (heel of his foot, the hand he placed on friend...etc). When he does concentrate he can hold a charge that increases in voltage as more sound waves get absorbed into him (Can't absorb or hold electric that he doesn't make), and releases it from his hands as a bolt (once tried from his eyes, left him temporarily blind for a few minutes). His own bodily sounds don't affect his powers (humming= No power)

Handy dandy Decibel Chart [http://www.gcaudio.com/resources/howtos/loudness.html]to help measure Voltage. Decibel = Voltage effect on a human body. A few seconds of 90-95dB = Pain, At 125dB or 30min of 90-95dB = Muscle paralysis (Drop most targets prone, usually awake), At 140dB or 30min of 125dB or 1 hour of 90-95dB= Propels victim and usually knocks them out (some 3rd degree burns may occur), At 194dB (Loudest sound possible) or 1 hour of 140dB, or 2 hours of 125dB or 3 hours of 90dB = Crispy.

Special weakness : No sound, no power.But, Ottis hates silence... and more then once zapped the crap out of people while listening to his ipod. And twice while playing a gig, he "nuked" the stage.

Personality: Rude, crude, but would still do the right thing (unless your a "pig").

Biography: Always has been angry at the world. Could blame his mother, who walked out of his life when he was 6. Or, blame his abusive drunk father. Or, maybe the bullies at school who kicked his ass for no good reason. Whatever the reasons by age 12 he gave up on the world and embraced Anarchy.
Dropped out of high school his freshman year to start his first band Inferno Goblins. That didn't go well, especially with his father. And, after a good beating from his father, Ottis ran away.A while of hitch hiking he ended up in Florida.
His second band Black Heart Society lasted a few years but eventually broke up due to in fighting, literally (his first few stitches he did himself are nasty jagged scars). This was also when he started skate boarding. His 3rd band Inferno World had a few hits in the 80s and 90s. They never made it to super star status but anyone who is into Punk music knows their music and anyone into skating could rattle off a few facts about Ottis.
The band Inferno World owns it's own Pub. Where they play every weekend. Ottis tends bar, Ted (bassist) does accounting, Cyrus (drums) does repairs, Betty (keyboard) head chef (menu is DEEP FRIED stuff on a stick), Brook is House DJ when the band isn't playing and Mitch (former manager) is just a creeper who hangs out.
During and after the collapse business is booming. Angry people want booze and loud music... Until a week ago while doing a sound check (120dB), Ottis lit up like a Christmas tree destroying the Amp he was in front of. Over the next few days zapping the crap outta everyone; destroying the stage (twice); he was kicked out of the band/pub for safety of the others. His wife loves and kinda fears him at the moment... she got him a rubber gimp suit so she'd be safe around him. (thankfully the gloves come off... he hates the suit, but loves his wife more)

Name: John

Alias: The Idealist

Gender: Male

Age: 40

Appearance: 6'3, slim, black hair, blue eyes, partial to suits.

Previous profession(s): CEO of a private bank

Skills: Basic survival skills from weeks spent camping. Proficient with a fire arm - but only practice on ranges. But excellent soft skills - high intelligence & emotional quotients.

Weaknesses: Likes a strong drink, but saves the strongest for when he is alone. No tangible skills.

Family status: Wife and baby are dead. Mother and father died of age; other family distant. The close friends were in the financial centres; largely New York but also London, Hong Kong and Tokyo.

Special power: Mind reading

Special weakness: Minds are hugely complicated, and while his ability to decipher them is exceptional; and improving; it takes an appreciably amount of time and it's certainly not something that is has any use in a combat situation. Not yet anyway...

Also, drink hampers it. Would you believe.

Personality: Hugely charismatic; a master persuader, yet emotionless and coldly rational behind closed doors. Suppressed rage over the death of his family. Was a good person fundamentally - the ultimate goal was always to do good. But as they say, power corrupts and he has lost sight of that goal - or rather, he uses it as a justification for anything and everything. Goes without saying he was hugely ambitious. Yet saying this, he is loyal to those who have proved to be his friends, or have proved their 'usefulness' over time.

Biography: He grew up in a deprived neighbourhood in New York, to a poor family. His dad worked as a janitor for a small restaurant near wall street; those evening when he would visit his Dad to bring him food for the night shift he would stare up in awe at the steel and glass towers in wonderment. Fast-forward through some years of hard work and graft, and an admittance to a prestigious foreign university on a scholarship and he returned to New York to make a name for himself on that very street. Subtly but intensely ambitious he rose through the ranks of a large bank before leaving (with a good chunk of his old one) to start his own institution. Met, fell madly in love, and married his wife 5 years before the collapse - they had a child born to them a few months before the collapse. That was a life changing event for the now CEO; it refocused that ultimate goal of doing good... evidently too late.

The powers granted during the collapse were blind to wealth, prestige or any other arbitrary pre-collapse measure of success. And the 99% considerably outnumbered the 1% (of whom he was firmly in). Common fury at the banks was given new strength and in the first weeks of anarchy banks were looted and levelled by previously disenfranchised, and still angry, supers. This fury was also directed towards wealth in general - the upper west side and it's expensive apartments suffered the same treatment. Tragically the wife and child were killed when a looter, empowered with super strength, smashed his way into their penthouse - sending lethal shards of metal and wood flying. The mother died with baby in hands.

At the time, the CEO had been at his bank, consoling employees and making plans for the future of what he had worked so hard to create. Upon getting home, and finding the still warm bodies of his wife and child, there was no grief, only a cold fury at the deaths, at the injustice, and at the anarchy that allowed this to happen.

After that, advised by his friends, he left the chaos of New York and fled to Florida to take stock. Shortly after, the New York authorities seized the assets of his bank. He still had considerable money in distributed and concealed accounts (people still needed banks...) all over the place, it was a shadow of his previous wealth.

As a new order began to emerge from the ruins he realised that he was woefully unprepared to face it. His network was now apparently irrelevant and without the old infrastructure; both the internet and the people at his old bank; the world had gone silent. While he may have taken wild risks while working in high finance, one could brush off a bad trade or a miss-pitched client presentation, but he suspected his current overlords would less forgiving. This made the first priority positioning himself where he could learn something of this new world - from the power dynamics of fiefdoms to the day-to-day problems of the downtrodden and powerless. Electricity conducting persons and their like made bar brawls considerably more lethal which ruled that otherwise natural choice.

No, instead he would need to put himself into an innocuous a position of trust and integrate into the community. What position better than that of a teacher? With his easy charm, and his story as a grieving father he was easily able to persuade local parents of the need to teach their children some old world knowledge; Maths, English, basic Science and so on... So with their desperate hunger for normality and a 'normal' childhood for their children somewhat sated he was accepted; tirelessly he listened to the worries of the concerned parents; shared in their gossip; and listened for any hint at the bigger picture. And the children? He had been dealing with boardrooms full of children for his entire working life.

And so life progressed; for five months he built up a clear picture of his corner of the world; whispers of the hopes, dreams and fears of those around him. And news of the outside world came and went - he was in the dark no longer.

The day started like any other - he'd come into school (now made up of a handful of old world teachers and intellectuals, along with those better versed in more practical skills - gone was French, in was vehicle repair) and was sitting at his desk marking while his class struggled through a test he'd laboured over the night before.

In an instant he felt his mind tear away from his body. He could still sense and control his body, but his mind somehow felt separate - floating on some vast imagined sea. A sea wracked by huge, chaotic storms; hurricanes. Thirty of them; one for each of the students sitting in front of him.

Not quite understanding what was going on, he absent-mindedly let his mind drift close to the nearest... the shock of the contact nearly knocked the teacher out of his chair. His mind was relentlessly battered by what felt like 200mph winds of emotions and thoughts - fragments of words, phrases, and feelings. As his mind was smashed about for what felt like an age and as he was on the verge of passing out; he finally joined a particularly strong current on the outskirts that moved him along with the winds of the hurricane as opposed to against them. Of all things, he realised he was riding the child's concentration on the exam. He even saw (sensed) images of himself teaching the class, and the clumsy attempts of the storm to latch onto them, failing as often as it succeeded; gusts and currents of frustration or satisfaction buffeting him accordingly.

Curiosity at this incredible; bordering on absurd; situation led him to try to venture from the relative safety of this current and into the maelstrom. He saw the fragments of thoughts and emotions but he could not detect any way of venturing deeper into the storm; into the mind of the child. But he glimpsed at deeper things - hints of fears about family, and a hunger that he recognised. But it was too violent for him to go any further or to really understand, and overcome by a sense that he was seeing things he should not he withdrew and his mind pulled away from this storm and back onto the calm, empty sea. And for a reason he did not quite understand, the detachment ended and the sea was gone.

Instead, he found himself jolted back into 'reality'. On the outskirts of his awareness; "Sir! I've finished! Sir! Sir! Sir!"

After class, one of the other teachers commented he was looking rather pale and he made an excuse and made his way home. Unsure of what had actually happened he made his way to a nearby green to collect himself, where he lay in the middle, closed his eyes, and listened to the sounds of the people around. He detached himself. Once again there were the storms of the minds of those around him; and some quite a while off. Each was different, even from the outside - and interestingly he could see no consistent difference between those his children and the adults around him.

This time he was more prepared - instead of letting himself drift aimlessly into one of the storms he skirted round the outsides looking for a strong current to gain a foothold, as had happened previously. He found a pair of hurricanes oddly close - as all the others they were different, but they shared a rhythm. He willed his body to sit up and look at their source - and as he'd guessed sitting there were a couple lying silently in each others arms. His mind circled this pairing, waiting for the perfect opportunity to enter the storm; and it came when the woman pulled herself closer to the man, who responded in kind. As they did, a current of satisfaction surged giving the rogue mind a chance to latch on and be taken by the huge storms. This particular current soon took him much deeper into the mind of the woman and from here, as it circled the storm over and over again, he was able to form a clearer and clearer of the rhythms and patterns of her mind - the way in which satisfaction flowed and clashed with love, fear and other emotions, and eventually even specific thoughts. He had long given up pretences of maintaining privacy.

After what he later realised was two hours, he was able to effortlessly navigate the storm - going from the outskirts where he could read the fleeting emotions and thoughts to the more complicated ones further in. However he never managed to penetrate into the eye of the storm; although the current of satisfaction took him close he was never able to find his way into the calmness, serenity and sureness of thought within.

Nor did he have time - it was becoming dark, and being outside was becoming increasingly dangerous. As the sun slowly set, the realisation of what had happened dawned. He was one of them. Evidently he could read minds; in a round about way. Although his potential happiness was muted by his powerlessness in the face of the storms; he could not influence them. Yet beggars cannot be choosers, a saying that comforted the muted teacher as he hurried home. So engrossed in his own thoughts, he did not notice that his mind was still detached, unconsciously simultaneously testing the currents of all the minds nearby.

Once he got home, he discovered a woman waiting for him; his current partner - part of the integration process, or so he'd told himself. While he wagered time would prove him wrong, he felt he could never get over, or move on from, his recently dead wife and as a result there was no true connection with this woman. Either way he was very late and indignation flowed from her as he came into the door; he immediately joined his mind with this strong current as it circled the storm. He gave her a bashful smile - the indignation ebbed and his mind detected and rode the winds of relief. Keen to avoid any sort of confrontation he made a quiet joke and her indignation ebbed even weaker and relief surged further.

This was a realisation for the ex-CEO. He could not directly control these hurricanes - his mind was powerless against them. But that did not make him powerless - guiding these storms was what he had been doing his entire life as had many others. The difference was that previously he had to rely on cues from the person - body language, tone, and uncommonly words themselves; whereas his new ability made this utterly redundant. He could see the vast potential. With a little skill and concentration he would be able to perfectly judge every smile and every shift of posture.

And so he sat down to dinner with his partner - reading the reactions to everything that happened around her. They ate and talked for some time, and he began to notice a recurring pattern of fear - a deep undercurrent - too deep into the storm for his mind to get at safely. He realised he had to bring it to the surface; turn this relief he was riding into fear; and so he cut her off and began;

"Look, I'm sorry, I've been trying to hide it but I can't, something happened on the way home from work..."

He began to spin some nonsensical story about a confrontation with a group of semi-super muggers, and it had the desired effect; the fear became stronger and came closer and closer to his mind, but it remained tantalisingly out of reach. But the opportunity came as he told the story, in the form of a distant bang outside the window that caused the undercurrent of fear to swell for just long enough for his mind jump onto it with a push from a gust of relief as the quiet of the outside world resumed. Had his timing not been perfect and had he not been perfectly poised to delve into her inner psyche he would have missed it.

And so he rode the fear that seemed to touch every part of her and so he too was able to reach those feelings. He doubted even she was aware of how much the fear permeated her. He came to realise she knew he didn't love her, but she didn't care - she didn't love him either. Her fear mandated that she be with him, a modicum of stability in a world that had utterly changed and was now an unrecognisable chaos compared to the old world she had known.

Pushed on by these thoughts he felt himself pushed up against the storm wall that stood between his mind and the eye that was the centre of everything she felt and thought. He looked for some emotional current he could use, or a thought that could push him through but there was none. There was only one way he was getting in there. And so with a herculean mental effort his mind literally forced its way past the final barrier.

He realised his body had stopped talking, but it was no longer important, nothing was. He was inside a mind in a way that he never thought possible. His mere presence in this inner sanctum was a violation of her very being.

As he floated in the middle of the storm, while he could no longer hear or see those fleeting outer thoughts, the entire structure of her mind was laid out in front of him. He could see (if not yet totally understand) a struggle raging between a cold survival instinct and an utterly destructive defeatism; two huge twisting currents of wind whose battle defined the shape of the hurricane but whose form was invisible to those caught up in them. Including, he suspected, even herself. Even that fear was only a by-product of this struggle; a form of survival instinct conceived by defeatism; and a considerably less significant force in her mind than had initially seemed when he had been swept up by it.

But this was it; this experience, the perspective, gave him an understanding of this woman that he had not come close to reaching in the time that they had been together. Dark whispers in his mind wondered if he had understood even his wife in this way. The merest suggestion worried him, and refocused his mental exhaustion.

Slowly and reluctantly he withdrew from her mind. He needed to rest - the storm wall had drained him and the discoveries of the day had been overwhelming. As she slept, he reflected that he knew her mind would be considerably easier to navigate now that he understood exactly what shaped the hurricane that was her mind.

And with that, mentally exhausted, he went to sleep.

Name: Darryl McClerkin

Alias: Diesel

Gender: Male

Age: 46

Appearance: Darryl is an African-American male standing at 6'7" and weighing in at 265lbs. He sports black unkempt hair, with a similar goatee, with strands of gray scattered across his head and chin. He also sports a rather embarrassing bald spot at the top of his head but he usually keeps this covered with an assortment of various hats. His eyes are of a dark brown color similar to that of his skin, except his skin is a few shades darker. He has gained a multitude of wrinkles thanks to age and his long history as a dedicated smoker.

As far as clothes go Darryl always dresses for the occasion. His usually attire from day to day is made up of various t-shirts and traditional light blue jeans along with sneakers or boots, depending on the circumstances. At times when Darryl wants to maintain the masquerade of successes and privilege he can be usually be found wearing dress shirts with a nice pair of slacks, beautiful shoes and various forms of jewelry, from rings to watches to necklaces. Even though his clothes aren't designer brands he still maintains a sense of high esteem and confidence which helps build the illusion.

Previous profession(s): After various failed job opportunities in his past, Darryl eventually settled as a certified low voltage technician, a profession that he was lucky enough to maintain even after the collapse.

Skills: Darryl has basic knowledge of low voltage electrical systems ranging from telephone lines, cable television lines, etc. Even though he has never delved into any official martial arts or similar combat practices Darryl is a capable street fighter and can hold his own in a fight.

Weaknesses: At Darryl's age he has quickly acknowledged that his physical health is only going downhill. Along with bad knees that occasionally act up if he waits in the same position for too long, Darryl is a heavy smoker and drinker. Despite his strength he is a rather slow individual and can only run for so long until he needs a break.

Family status: Darryl has been married twice. His first marriage quickly ended in a hasty divorce a couple of months after the birth of his first child. Darryl's second marriage ended after the death of his second wife a couple of years into their union. Darryl has been blessed with two children, a girl and a boy, each a product of his respective marriages. Darryl is still extremely close to his daughter, Eva. However the relationship that Darryl maintains with his son, Aaron, could be classified as estranged at best. Other than his children Darryl has no immediate family.

Special power: Replication. Darryl powers allow him to create perfect duplicates of himself, an instantly and exactly replicate himself. Each of the duplicates has exactly the same power as Darryl himself, and are capable of independent thought. However Darryl can take control of them telepathically as they all share a hive mind with Darryl in control. Darryl can absorb a duplicate back into himself at will, which also makes him absorb the memories, knowledge, and skills of the duplicate.

Special weakness: As for as weaknesses goes Darryl has yet come to full terms and control of his abilities. At his strongest Darryl is able to create and maintain 20 separate duplicates at a time but as this is his limit it has been known to cause extreme mental strain and fatigue on the original Darryl. Duplicates also aren't created with the same equipment the original Darryl possesses. This leads to a rather awkward moment between the time the duplicate spawns and the time it takes for it to find proper clothing. Injuries alone are not shared by the duplicates but the pain is. Due to their telepathic connection all duplicates and Darryl feel what the others are feeling when it comes to bodily injury and harm. Other sensations are not shared. The duplicates also are only as strong as Darryl is at the time they are created.

Personality: Despite his short comings Darryl is a pretty optimistic guy. He hates letting his life bring down the emotional state of others so most of the time he is upbeat, outgoing and extremely friendly around others. Since he was a child Darryl has been extremely generous and this trait has stuck to him even midway into his life. He is the kind of guy that starts up basic waiting room conversation to ease the awkwardness. He is kind of guy that would help a struggling couple in the rain with their car while everyone else drives away. He is the kind of guy that would stick around and give meaningful advice a friend after everyone else has left that friend for broke. He is the kind of guy you would want in your corner when the odds are stacked up against you because you know you have a guy you can trust.

Biography: Darryl was born in Raleigh, North Carolina to Issac and Hattie McClerkin. Shortly after his birth his family made their way up north eventually settling in New Jersey where Darryl remained until his move to Florida after the collapse. As a child Darryl was lucky enough to have a stable family unit unlike many of the other children growing up in his neighborhood. In his youth Darryl was a trouble maker, usually finding ways to acquire various personal effects that he wasn't able to obtain legitimately. However as he grew older and entered ad


New member
Mar 18, 2011
Name: Darryl McClerkin

Alias: Diesel

Gender: Male

Age: 46

Appearance: Darryl is an African-American male standing at 6'7" and weighing in at 265lbs. He sports black unkempt hair, with a similar goatee, with strands of gray scattered across his head and chin. He also sports a rather embarrassing bald spot at the top of his head but he usually keeps this covered with an assortment of various hats. His eyes are of a dark brown color similar to that of his skin, except his skin is a few shades darker. He has gained a multitude of wrinkles thanks to age and his long history as a dedicated smoker.

As far as clothes go Darryl always dresses for the occasion. His usually attire from day to day is made up of various t-shirts and traditional light blue jeans along with sneakers or boots, depending on the circumstances. At times when Darryl wants to maintain the masquerade of successes and privilege he can be usually be found wearing dress shirts with a nice pair of slacks, beautiful shoes and various forms of jewelry, from rings to watches to necklaces. Even though his clothes aren't designer brands he still maintains a sense of high esteem and confidence which helps build the illusion.

Previous profession(s): After various failed job opportunities in his past, Darryl eventually settled as a certified low voltage technician, a profession that he was lucky enough to maintain even after the collapse.

Skills: Darryl has basic knowledge of low voltage electrical systems ranging from telephone lines, cable television lines, etc. Even though he has never delved into any official martial arts or similar combat practices Darryl is a capable street fighter and can hold his own in a fight.

Weaknesses: At Darryl's age he has quickly acknowledged that his physical health is only going downhill. Along with bad knees that occasionally act up if he waits in the same position for too long, Darryl is a heavy smoker and drinker. Despite his strength he is a rather slow individual and can only run for so long until he needs a break.

Family status: Darryl has been married twice. His first marriage quickly ended in a hasty divorce a couple of months after the birth of his first child. Darryl's second marriage ended after the death of his second wife a couple of years into their union. Darryl has been blessed with two children, a girl and a boy, each a product of his respective marriages. Darryl is still extremely close to his daughter, Eva. However the relationship that Darryl maintains with his son, Aaron, could be classified as estranged at best. Other than his children Darryl has no immediate family.

Special power: Replication. Darryl powers allow him to create perfect duplicates of himself, an instantly and exactly replicate himself. Each of the duplicates has exactly the same power as Darryl himself, and are capable of independent thought. However Darryl can take control of them telepathically as they all share a hive mind with Darryl in control. Darryl can absorb a duplicate back into himself at will, which also makes him absorb the memories, knowledge, and skills of the duplicate.

Special weakness: As for as weaknesses goes Darryl has yet come to full terms and control of his abilities. At his strongest Darryl is able to create and maintain 20 separate duplicates at a time but as this is his limit it has been known to cause extreme mental strain and fatigue on the original Darryl. Duplicates also aren't created with the same equipment the original Darryl possesses. This leads to a rather awkward moment between the time the duplicate spawns and the time it takes for it to find proper clothing. Injuries alone are not shared by the duplicates but the pain is. Due to their telepathic connection all duplicates and Darryl feel what the others are feeling when it comes to bodily injury and harm. Other sensations are not shared. The duplicates also are only as strong as Darryl is at the time they are created.

Personality: Despite his short comings Darryl is a pretty optimistic guy. He hates letting his life bring down the emotional state of others so most of the time he is upbeat, outgoing and extremely friendly around others. Since he was a child Darryl has been extremely generous and this trait has stuck to him even midway into his life. He is the kind of guy that starts up basic waiting room conversation to ease the awkwardness. He is kind of guy that would help a struggling couple in the rain with their car while everyone else drives away. He is the kind of guy that would stick around and give meaningful advice a friend after everyone else has left that friend for broke. He is the kind of guy you would want in your corner when the odds are stacked up against you because you know you have a guy you can trust.

Biography: Darryl was born in Raleigh, North Carolina to Issac and Hattie McClerkin. Shortly after his birth his family made their way up north eventually settling in New Jersey where Darryl remained until his move to Florida after the collapse. As a child Darryl was lucky enough to have a stable family unit unlike many of the other children growing up in his neighborhood. In his youth Darryl was a trouble maker, usually finding ways to acquire various personal effects that he wasn't able to obtain legitimately. However as he grew older and entered adolescences a couple of things guided him away from petty crime. Beatings from his father, participation in church pushed on to him by his mother, and a new found love for sports found Darryl turning into a fine young individual. As time progress and Darryl made his way through high school his life just seemed to be getting better by the second. His grades improved and his substantial size made him a threat on the court. By his senior year he had already received scholarship interests from a multitude of colleges. Soon however Darryl soon found himself facing constant obstacles that blocked his path to success.

When Darryl found out that his high school sweetheart, Asia, was pregnant he realized that he had to step in and assist as much as possible. With a child on the way Darryl soon found himself out of school and working. Being pressured by Asia's father to get married before the baby arrived the two eventually became engaged and soon married. Eventually the new bride and groom welcomed their daughter Eva into the world Soon Darryl became overwhelmed with stress as he was suddenly "gifted" with a new wife and daughter, and eventually started drinking. As time went by the newly wedded couple slowly began to drift apart eventually ending in a nasty divorce with Asia gaining full custody and moving down south separating Darryl from his daughter.

The following years reduced Darryl to just a husk of his former self struggling to make it day to day. With no steady income Darryl soon lost hoped and slowly returned to his somewhat criminal past, however as time went by Darryl meet, Amanda, second wife. This new relationship blossomed and Darryl soon began to develop a new outlook on life that he developed from Amanda and found his new demeanor pleasant. Soon Darryl's life slowly began to reform as he found himself working towards becoming a certified technician thanks to support from Amanda. Darryl soon found himself walking down the aisle once again. Years passed and the bond between Amanda and Darryl grew even stronger as they conceived their son, Aaron. To Darryl life was perfect, though once again fate began to tear it all apart.

In New Jersey rioting was more prevalent during the Collapse than most other states. On night while rioters made their way through homes and businesses a group of looters soon found themselves breaking into Darryl's home. Trying to protect his family Darryl attempted to fight off the looters though in the process Amanda was wounded and days later died. Darryl was emotional destroyed, though Aaron was far more affected than his father. Aaron eventually blamed his father for his mother's death and still does to this day. As America soon fell prey to the supers Darryl decided Jersey wasn't the best place for him and his son and moved to Florida. Since finding a brand new home was extremely difficult before the collapse it became almost impossible afterwards. Without any other alternatives Darryl and Aaron moved in with Eva and her partner Olivia. The couple lives along the shore of a small Floridan city, which has fallen under the vassalage of the reigning supers. Eva is employed as a nurse working at a local clinic while Olivia is a fisher.

Living under the rule of supers Darryl has come to know how cruel, corrupted and twisted power can make an individual. Life in the city is as chaotic as a place can get. From rampant crime in the streets to constant selfish abuse of powers by supers. Darryl has taken it upon himself in recent months to help those who need it most by sharing a lot of his resources, greatly irritating Olivia and Aaron, but he continues to assist wherever he can. However after the discovery of his powers Darryl has finally found a way to help the downtrodden once and for all.

Name: James Harewood

Alias: Reflex

Gender: Male

Age: 28

Appearance: Medium length brown hair and hazel eyes. Clean shaven, 5'9 weighing 9 stone. White male. Often seen wearing a smirk. James wears comfortable civilian clothing that allows him to blend in with a crowd.

Previous Professions: Before the collapse, James was a history teacher.

Skills: James is skilled in Karate, he learns it as a way of releasing stress and finding some inner discipline. This came about after a particularly annoying class drove him up the wall. He is also very smart and possesses a good historical and general knowledge.

Weaknesses: He gets distracted easily and can often go off on a tangent. He also has a short temper and when getting angry at adults, has occasionally started fights. He also finds that his 'inner monologue' talks constantly and can distract him.

Family Status: Both parents live back in the UK. He has two brothers and a sister. Both brothers are married and the eldest has two daughters. James himself is single, after his fiancée went missing, presumed dead, during the collapse.

Special Power: He can think and move six times faster than the average human. When using his power, James sees the world as moving six times slower while he moves at normal speed. This speed means when he lands a blow it hits with great force, he can also quite easily dodge or counter hand to hand combatants and his speed and reflexes means he can dodge bullets with difficulty. His body heals six times faster when sleeping as his body repairs itself much faster. James does have to clean his injuries before resting or he will still run the risk of infection.

Special Weakness: Using his power wears out the body and the much faster movement can cause him more serious damage such as tearing muscles if he overexerts himself, the resistant force whenever he attacks is much stronger resulting in a higher chance of injuring himself in combat. The power also mentally exhausts him, he can turn it off like flicking a mental switch but as soon as he stops using the power, he is hit by the physical and mental damage he has suffered. Therefore, he is poor in battles of attrition where he has to use his power continuously for a long time. He has between one and two hours of using his power before his body begins to fail. This depends on how well rested and healed he is, using his power to it's limit every day will drastically reduce his capabilities. Therefore, he needs to return home and sleep where his body will begin healing. Not all injuries will be properly healed in a short amount of time.

Personality: James is considered open, friendly and charming. Though beneath the calm exterior is a mind that always needs to be occupied with something. He has little patience and a short temper. But many of his friends know they can rely on him, secretly James hates this as he feels like everybody's crutch.

James prefers to avoid physical confrontation, especially when not using his powers. If he can defuse the situation without violence then he will. This mirrors his style when using his power, being six times faster than the bad guy means getting out of his way is easier and getting past him the preferable option.

Biography: Born in the UK, James studied History at University and tried to make his living as a teacher. However, being the youngest son of a business owner, his father expected somebody to run the business. James' father had allowed his elder sons to pursue their own careers before realising his own mortality after the sudden death of a friend.

James wanted nothing to do with his fathers business and after several blazing arguments decided to start again in another country. He applied for his working Visa to the US and set up his own life. He didn't see it as dodging responsibility, but as being able to choose for himself.

James found work at a High School in Maine, joining the History department. He also rented a modest apartment to live in. He occasionally considered returning to the UK and working with his family, as his father had begun to ignore him. He almost convinced himself to return home, he would be the prodigal son full of regret, ready to be accepted back into the fold. But then he decided to contact his siblings and learned that they had all relocated back to their home town with their families. After a little more prying conversation, James learned that his father had passed away and given explicit orders in his will that his children continue his business. This made James realise that he was not included in the will, as he would have been notified, which decided once and for all that he should stay where he was.

James continued life in America, eventually meeting Mary, the doctor who looked after him when his leg was broken in a car crash. They dated for two years, moving into a newer, bigger apartment and having a comfortable life. Eventually, James proposed to Mary and the wedding plans loomed large.

Everything was going well, with an apartment, a stable job and a fiancée. Then came the collapse, which shattered James' life. The rioting on the streets caused James to lose Mary, she disappeared on her way to the hospital during the riots, her car was found with blood in it and she was presumed dead.

James had reached breaking point and decided he couldn't stay, his very home felt alien to him now. He packed up his belongings and fled the city, relocating to Florida. Since then he kept his head down, making friends and going through life.

Then, months later, James began to feel strange, he had always thought quickly, but now his thoughts were like lightning, even more, he could cope with this change. He could think and move faster than anybody he knew, anyone normal at least. James had a power and set about testing the limits of his new abilities.

He found that he could be so much faster, he saw others as slow and sluggish, he tested his abilities in fights, realising that dodging attacks was more his forte, and using his power constantly would tire him out. After pushing himself far too hard, James had his arm broken in a fight, he fled home and fell into a deep sleep that lasted for two days. Waking up, he discovered that his injury had healed itself in incredible time. This new development was the final piece of the puzzle in testing his powers.

He had become a new man, a super-human.

Name: Martin Caldwell

Alias: Doc

Gender: Male

Age: 29

Appearance: Martin is an tall man standing 6'3 cm tall he is about normal weight 200lbs. Martin skin is quite pail and he has very dark brown eyes and mid length messy black hair, black glasses. He always looks an bit confused and is usually seen reading or thinking about something. His usual attire consist of an unusual looking lab coat an white t shirt, his glasses and jeans and worn out shoes and black gloves. He also carries an bag full of medical items with him. He managed to steal an gun from one of his diseased patients. It is an berretta 9 mm with an silencer. And a bag filled with 9mm ammo. And he carries an big scalpel in his right pocket just in case.

Previous profession(s): Martin was an doctor and a researcher on bio weapons. He is still an doctor now.

Skills: Martin is an genius with an photographic memory. His mind has been honed by years and days of years training, he can think of complicated plans in an instant and also perform them. Martin is an master with knowledge about the human body, he knows precisely where to cut to make some paralyzed or feel incredible pain, or make them bleed out really fast. He is an doctor so he is very good at healing people, with his power combined with his medical knowledge. He is usually driven by logic which makes him able to make the best decisions without getting personally attached. He has your basic adult skills such as driving and repairing small things around the house. He is very skilled with using scalpels.

Weaknesses: Martin has no battle experience, he has never been in a fist fight before nor has he ever fired a gun. Martin tends to get lost in his head, and if he doesn't focus he can easily miss obvious things. He speaks quite fast and soft when he is thinking, this makes it hard to understand him unless it is an 1 on 1 conversation. He doesn't have much experience with live in general so he knows little about things as the newest fashion or TV shows or cars or the newest singers.

Family status: Martin has an girlfriend named Ashley. He has 2 parents which he never really met. He cares next to nothing about them. He has what he refers to as an blood brother, his name is Josh and they have been best friends for 24 years now.

Special power:Healing. Martin can heal wounds by focusing and placing his hands near the wound. He can also do this without touch in a range of 5 meters but this is only half as effective. He also healed his eyes sight so he doesn't need the glasses anymore. Right now it takes about an minute to heal an Broken bone, and about 5 minutes for really big and deep gashes, and about a few seconds for small cuts and bruises.

Special weakness: When his concentration breaks he loses all control of his power. This means that he can no longer heal people. But by just damaging his body it is nearly impossible to break his focus.

Personality: Martin became an doctor because he wanted to help people. He has been toughened up by the new world but he is still an good person. He has almost never killed someone (except a few dying patients who asked him to end their suffering.) so he would have great problem with taking an life when he felt there was another way. Still he can hide his emotions by only going on logic temporarily shutting out all emotions. Martin is an bit of an loner he prefers to work alone and he hates it when people are smarter than him. When he isn?t working however he doesn't care about how many people are around him. He is extremely curious and always wants to learn new things the only reason he began working as an researcher on bio weapons, because he wanted to learn more about the human body and diseases. He loves taking things apart to see how they work. He is very protective of his friends and would give his life for Josh or Ashley without hesitation.

Biography: Martin was born to 2 highly intelligent business people. They however never had time for Martin so he was raised by his grandmother. A kind sweet old lady that thought Martin proper morals and such. He skipped a few classes in the high class school for intelligent people that he went to. And was picked on by the other kids as an result of this. They quickly stopped however as they found him to strange to interact with. Some of them even feared him as he seemed to know allot of things by just looking at them. And he didn?t seem to be bothered by being bullied he just ignored it for the most part. He had 1 friend who was allot like him named Josh. Josh was also bullied but one day Martin bough an tazer to school. The next day when he showed it to the bullies. Threatening them that if they ever bullied Josh again he would shock them to death. The bullies were so frightened that the left them both alone from that day onward.

He and Josh were very good friends and they always studied together and spent most of their time together studying living things. Josh was the son of an very rich sheik and went to this school in America simply because his father thought that America was the best place in the world. This is why the Arabian looking boy was named Josh an strange name for his appearance.

Martin is an only child and when he turned 12 he was told that he was excepted to take over he business. He refused however he said hated his parents, and his grandmother used to be an nurse so he wanted to become something that had to do with helping and curing people. His parents were furious by this news but Martins mind, was set he wanted to grow up and help people. His grandmother supported his decision. Josh also wanted to go into that direction.

He went to med school after graduating from his high school with straight A's. And he graduated from one of the most prestigious universities there was, when it came to studying medicine as well as micro biology. (he did both at the same time and graduated at top of his class for medicine and second for micro biology he was beaten by Josh.) Josh had taken the same route as him and they still did allot together this ended when Josh went underground, Martin didn?t hear from him for an couple of years. He joined the same hospital in which his grandmother had worked. He was accepted but the people were confused why someone of his level went to work there.

He was respected there he became quickly known as know it all Martin. Most people liked him he always knew an solution to almost any problem. After working here for 2 years his grandmother got very sick out of nowhere she died shortly after. This made Martin even more determent to help people. After his grandmothers death he severed all ties with his parents. He was quickly promoted time after time as he outclassed his peers and superiors alike.

He was invited to work underground in an special research facility researching how to make bio weapons and diseases. The leader of the project was Josh. Josh told him all about the project and what he had been doing the last few years. Martin accepted because he wanted to learn more about the unknown disease which had killed his grandmother. He studied there learning almost anything known to man about diseases. Most people would say he was obsessed there weren?t far off. His life was completely dedicated to work in the hospital and work in the research facility. He spend all of his free time he had in the lab with Josh studying and trying to find the best biological weapon.

After the super humans awakened the lab was shut down and life slowly turned to hell. Martin didn?t stop his research however he took his research home where he kept studying these diseases and also the data they had on super humans. (which was next to nothing). Martin was now employed as an doctor healing all kinds of people passing through the clinic in which he was required to work. He was however regarded as one of the best so he got allot of visits from the people with superpowers which made him able to study them. Josh and he led the practice together and they were generally left alone since they proofed to be very useful. He also met an woman there which he quickly fell in love with her name is Ashley. They have been dating for the last 4 months, Ashley is allot like him and she is just as smart as Martin is.

About 5 days ago he fell down the stairs shattering his right arm when he hit the ground. He placed his left hand on it trying to keep it steady only to see that it healed within a minute, the pain slowly disappearing. He tried it on one of his unconscious patients and it worked. He has been trying to control his power ever since he told Josh everything about his new power, and he helped him study the new powers that he had gotten. He has told Ashley about his power yesterday and she insisted that he would use his power for good. He also stole an gun with ammo from one of his patients who died a few days ago.

Name: Matthew Aiken
Alias: Hydra
Gender: Male
Age: 27

Appearance: Matthew is a thin male of average height. Standing at about 5.7 feet with a wiry body build. He doesn't look very physically intimidating at all. However, his appearance presently can hardly be considered very human. The skin at his neck, torso, arms and legs is mostly scaly, having a toughened texture with a dark green colouring. His face, hands and feet aren't all that affected by this scaly mutation and there's still patches of skin on his body which haven't fully mutated, however few they might be. His skin complexion is otherwise pale.

Having the appearance of some freak mutant experiment. Aiken's skin isn't the only thing that's warped. Where his fingers should end are claws and his human teeth have all fallen out to be replaced by two sharp rows of a predator's teeth. Because of this, Matthew's jaw is rather prominent and appears to be the only part of his body which has quite a bit of strength to it. Additionally, Aiken's eyes have been discolored as well. The iris is a darker golden hue, with black flecks here and there. His hair is short and dark brown and he possesses a somewhat square face.

To reflect his unwanted state, Matthew tends to wear full body clothing that's rather oversized for him. He usually wears slacks matched with a long sleeved shirt and a hoodie shirt over that. To further accompany this, he tends to wrap a winter scarf over his mouth, as to cover his cruel set of teeth. The sleeves of his shirt usually cover his hands quite well. This is his typical attire and needless to say, he looks very misplaced on a warm summer day. Before his mutation began however, Aiken tried to keep an orderly life, even if governed by super humans. He wore such things as tuxedos or suit pants and shirts with a tie, pretty typical in other words.

Previous profession: Matthew used to work as an economical advisor and accountant before the collapse. After the collapse, he became more of a resource organizer and manager as to remain useful to his superhuman overlords.

Skills: Matthew has always considered himself to be somewhat of a survivalist. He picked up skills that were useful and he stuck to them. When the world changed, he adapted. He made himself useful to the super humans. He's well educated and can handle management of things. Despite his somewhat vile attitude, he's a hard worker and loving of those he cares for. It's rather unfortunate that those he cared for have left him after his little incident.

Weaknesses: Aiken has a bit of a weakness towards alchohol, often having taken comfort in a couple of drinks lately. He's not a very strong built man either, lacking physical strength. He can also be considered a social reject. Humans might be adapting to super humans, but when said super humans have the looks of someone who wants to eat you alive, it's rather hard to not fret it.

Family status: Until a few days ago, Matthew was a married man. While life wasn't easy, he was very loving of his wife. That all changed when he started to turn into a monster. To mention it as thoroughly as possible, Aiken's wife ran screaming out of their home and never returned. He's going to go ahead and bitterly guess that he's divorced now.

Special power: The last week has been hell for Matthew, no doubt about that. His mutation hurt a lot and it was sudden and uncalled for. Aiken's power is a limited/varied form of Hydra Physiology. The mutation gives him skin in the form of scales and heighten his reflexes, balance and agility well above human standards. As mentioned, his mutation is limited, it does not enhance his strength at all and it didn't make him grow additional heads or a tail. Besides what's already been mentioned, there are two primary things that his physiology offers.

Regeneration: The whole reason he's known as Hydra. Regeneration can be considered Aiken's superpower. His body has stopped aging and can recover from physical harm. Minor physical harm can heal away in seconds, while cuts and stabs can take up to several minutes to disappear. Poisons and diseases don't really work on him, unless they're magical in nature. What's a bit harder to heal would be organs and bones, but it's manageable with time. However, this power does not make him recover from death or dismemberment. He can't regrow entire limbs, only recover from wounds and sickness. Additionally, he still feels all the pain associated to any wound until the point that it recovers. A shot through the head will obviously end him instantly and a shot through the heart would also be a certain kill. He can drown and he can burn to death, all such things still apply. Also, fire slows his regeneration considerably. Burns will heal with time, but they take the longest.

Poison Generation: This ability is a bit more genetic than an actual superpower. His new physiology has made his blood, sweat and saliva poisonous. Additionally, his body has developed inhuman glands for this purpose. He has the ability to breathe poison, sometimes involuntarily and sometimes not so much. The poison has a misty green texture to it. In large doses, it's certainly lethal. In smaller doses it causes cramps and pain. This isn't a magical poison, it's completely natural and can be treated as such. The poison is the most painful if it's inhaled or if it contaminates someone's bloodstream. However, if the victim's skin is the only thing affected, then it'll only cause a rash and irritation. Aiken's teeth are laced with it. He'd have to lick his claws to expose them to the poison though.

Special weakness: Against his regeneration, I suggest fire. Burns are hard to regenerate and they cause him the most pain. Matthew's poison is by all means, just poison. It can be countered by developing medicine against it. You'd have to make the effort to specifically counter it, but it works. You'd also probably need a sample and the know how to pull it off. Anyone who has an immunity/resistance to poison and diseases will be resistant to Aiken's own. His poison only works on living and breathing creatures, if that wasn't obvious. Area of effect abilities work great too. Aiken's fast, but if something targets an area, he probably can't outpace it. Anything related to the mind or magic, if that even exists is also an effective counter. Matthew's claws and teeth are really sharp, but they can't shred through hardened things. Got someone who can turn into a gargoyle? He's not gonna be able to cut through stone that easily.

Personality: Matthew used to have a very formal and stern attitude about himself. He took his work and his life seriously. He did as he was told and he didn't ask questions. Life had already turned him a little cynical back then. Now he's warped and would hardily consider himself a human anymore. He's turned somewhat bitter but continues to grasp at the concept of survival of the fittest. That's what the world has turned to after all. Ever since his "gift" Aiken's felt more and more like a predator. Often he's had to curb his temper as to not revel in murderous glee and it really scares him. He might be a bitter jerk, but that doesn't mean he's ever enjoyed the suffering of others, the feeling of it still makes him sick, at least, he thinks it does.

Matthew Aiken was born and raised in America, prior to the collapse. He was the only son to Darrel Aiken and Veronika Aiken. His parents travelled a lot, as part of their work but they were middle class if anything and had no major problems in their lives. When Matthew was born, they settled down on the east coast to raise him. He went through school like a pretty typical kid. He didn't have ace grades or anything such. It wasn't until later that he got a grip on his education and actually set up goals for himself. In contrast to his present years, Aiken had a brilliant childhood, making many friends. Sadly, like many youths, when it was time to branch of in different direction, Matthew had to press on alone.

He moved out of his parents home when he was 18, with some loving help from them and took up university shortly after. He met his first proper girl at the age of 21 and eventually moved on to marry her at the age of 24. His studies included a focus on economics and management as well as accountancy. His first job was as an apprentice accountant at the age of 22. Aiken moved up through the world and he had a good life. By the time he was 26, he was a senior accountant for a successful accountant's firm. Then, shortly after his 27th birthday the collapse struck. Life went to hell. For a time he tried to live normally. But it was clear that the world was changing. His parents died in the following months, killed by some superhuman who decided to plunder their home. He couldn't even get them buried. There was no way to safely reach them. He picked up drinking to comfort himself.

Aiken's wife was Evelyn Aiken and after the collapse they bonded more than ever. She was a bright, cheerful woman but even she suffered losses during the collapse, many of her friends died in those months. They comforted each other as best they could and learned to commonly hate the super humans. It was a way to vent their depression. It was hard at first, when the super humans took over their town and promised "protection". But they adapted. By then, Matthew had no job to go to and he became a resource manager for those with powers. Using his abilities to organize their assets and various projects. He and his wife were kept alive, but only as long as they were useful, his wife helped him with his various plans, cheering him on if anything. So there he was, a cynical and stern man who was only getting older, approaching his thirties. He figured his life couldn't possible go worse, but of course, somehow, it did.

At first, he had thought it was an illness. It was roughly a month ago that Aiken's skin was being discolored on a few places. A slight green hue appeared here and there. This might've not been a common condition, but the world has people who could generate all forms of diseases and such. He figured he had become some test subject for a superhuman and there was no more to say about it. Only a few days ago did it hit him like a tidal wave. His wife watched the entire ordeal in their home. His skin warped and altered painfully, turning into dark green scales. His gums began to bleed heavily, as his teeth fell out and rows of new sharper teeth sprouted in their place. He even bit his tongue in pain, but it recovered in mere seconds. His fingers ruptured and sprouted horribly sharp claws as his pained gasps for air were choked with green fumes as his insides warped to accommodate new glands.

At some point during his mutation, Evelyn had ran out of their home, screaming. Aiken curled up on the floor and laid there, in his own blood wheezing green wisps of poison on occasion. It took him several hours to regain his senses. He didn't report back to work again. It was after three days of missed work that his overseer's pet had decided to pay him a visit. A young brat, couldn't be more than 19 who had the ability manipulate wood, widely considered a more pathetic power, but still lethal to normal humans. The young man found a small apartment partially hazed with green smoke. His first mistake had been to wander inside. The poison didn't work immediately. But the man quickly found Matthew, sitting in a corner, dressed in full body clothing, even wearing something as absurd as a winter scarf indoors. He approached Matthew with his malicious intent, clearly the young adult had gone far, considering normal humans disposable trash as he did.

"Finally gone insane have you?" The brat remarked with an arrogant voice. Matthew stirred, lifting his golden gaze at the man. Even given as much time as three days, Aiken still fully hadn't accepted his condition. But everything about this brat pissed him off. He spoke up, his voice had a property he wasn't quite familiar with and he couldn't place exactly why it was there. He would later realize that he too, had sounded malicious, clearly eager to kill the young man. "You should've left it at the fact that I no longer feel like working for you. Give your boss head if you feel like pleasing him. Sod off, you little brat." It took several seconds for the young man to process what he had just heard. His face was dumbstruck, a facial expression Aiken wouldn't soon forget.

He lifted an object in his right hand, a short wooden staff. Pointless, as Matthew was already moving. The staff ejected itself, extending due to the brat's influence, but it missed it's mark by far, slamming into the wall with shattering efficiency. Matthew laughed, a flood of adrenaline pumped into him as he was already upon the dumbstruck man. He only had time to twist his head as a claw shredded his front. It ripped through bone and flesh as the man slumped forward. He was still alive, but there was little way for him to move anymore. Aiken glared down on his pitiful form like a predator might observe a distasteful meal. Deep down inside he felt disgusted with himself, it took him a while to realize he had laughed, that he had enjoyed committing this act like it was nothing. He was shocked quite frankly. He fled the scene, leaving the man to bleed to death.

That was four days ago. Aiken continues to contemplate his fate, trying to find out if he can reverse it somehow. Meanwhile, he deals with his heightened aggression and the murder he committed. He doesn't doubt he'll be able to do it again and perhaps that's even more vile than the act he has already committed. He's turned into one of them. He doesn't blame his wife for leaving him like this.

Name: Charles Porter

Alias: Dr. Viral

Gender: M

Age: 30

Appearance: Chucky is a white male standing at 5?8 and weighing 108 pounds. He has messy black hair and purple eyes(formally brown). He is usually seen wearing blue jeans, black sneakers, and a red shirt with a stylised V on the front. After his powers activated, he has started wearing a black suede jacket to hold his restricters and a purple shirt to match the color of his power aura.

Previous Profession: Worked at Aether Chems as a lab tech and chemist.

Skills: Chucky is a chemist and engineer. These are both useful for maintaining his equipment.

Weaknesses: Chucky is reckless, and is too quick to get in the middle of the action, which puts him in tough spots. He is also cocky about his own skills to the point of arrogance. This leads to him dismissing those who question him.

Family Status: Single. Has A father and mother in South Carolina that he contacts when he can. His sister and Grandfather are in Florida with him.

Power: Can manipulate Ionic energy. On his own, this only manifests in a purple aura surrounding his body, and being able to discharge massive beams of energy. When he uses his restriction devices, he can focus the energy to shoot it out in orbs, project a force field, and create a 5 inch long energy knife.

Power weakness: Using his power without the restricters is dangers to both himself and his allies. If he tries to use it, the energy is forced out at such an intensity it can burn through his own skin if used for too long. There is also no way of knowing which way the energy will fire towards, leaving civilians in danger. Using massive amounts of energy over short periods can burn out the devices.

Personality: Chucky is cheerful and enthusiastic in every situation. He is completely confidant in his ability to solve problems and always puts himself in the center of any issue. When confronting enemies, he can act somewhat over the top in a more comical villain manner than a serious hero. The only thing that might annoy him is when people are bullied or threatened. He takes it upon himself to be a protector of the weak

Bio: Charles was born in Columbia, South Carolina to Hargreave and Vanessa Porter. His father was a genius inventor and chemist, and Charles showed similar aptitudes for science. He rarely ever left his home for the first nine years of his life, as he was homeschooled by his father?s colleague. His only other human interactions were with his mother and anyone that happened to visit his home.

Chucky?s favorite pass time when not studying was watching old superhero cartoons. He was fascinated by the powers and heroics of these super beings. When he was 10, he thought it a grand idea to try to build machines that simulated powers such as lasers and webshooters. However, these would only end in a house fire or similar physical harm.

His mother insisted Charles attend public school to learn proper social interaction. He excelled in almost every subject, but was a troubled youth. When he first encountered bullying in school, he would rush to the aid of the weak and recklessly try to fight much stronger boys than himself. This left him with bruises and black eyes much of the time.

Around the age of 16, Charles had earned enough credits to exit high school. He became far more proficient at both mixing chemicals and fixing lab equipment. He went on to a university upstate, and obtained doctorate degrees in chemistry and mechanical engineering by the age of 23. Unfortunately, Chucky had a habit of questioning people in authority, believing himself to be smarter than those in charge. This lead to him getting fired from almost any job he was hired to. His father put in a good word for Charles to his boss at Aether Chemicals, and Charles was given a fully paid job provided he worked under his Father, who was use to Chucky's quirkiness. When The Collapse hit, Chucky?s younger sister was over in Florida visiting a relative. Charles took it upon himself to fly there personally and bring her back. He found her, but due to the superhumans in the area, he was ruled unable to leave, and had to stay at his grandparent?s house.

Chucky's grandfather was a retired widower that couldn't support them both for long, so Charles took up work at a manufacturing plant to support them both. His earlier problems of wanting to question authority was still present, but he knew to bite his tongue given his current predicament. His sister enrolled in a school close to the house and tried to stay out of the way of super humans as much as possible.

Little over a week ago, Chucky noticed something strange. His eyes had changed colors, and he emitted a strange form of energy from his body. The first time he tried to use it ended with a window blown out and Chucky blacked out. He built devices that regulated how much of his power was able to be let out at a time. The most recent upgrades allow him to change the shapes the energy comes in.


New member
Nov 30, 2009
Violence and murder are two evils that lead even the best of men down paths of vengeance, pain and regret. However violence and murder paled in comparison to the abuse of authority and subjugation of others in an intense time of need. Darryl knew firsthand how much shit the few remaining inhabitants of Palm Bay had to deal with on a daily basis. Fear, misery, suffering and death were far too commonplace and widespread under the rule of the McNeil's. The entirety of Palm Bay had finally had it. All that pain had soon been replaced with anger, animosity, and frustration. The human element had finally reached its boiling point.

The streets around the McNeil Palace was flooded with hundreds all ready to attempt to overthrow the tyrants that had transformed their lives into a meaningless hell. Darryl clutched a crowbar tightly in his hands as the group continued to charge towards the palace. The locals obviously had the overwhelming numbers but deep down Darryl realized that it still probably would not be enough. He had seen what some members of the McNeil family could do and it was clear that a poorly equipped mob with improvised weapons would at best only be a slight annoyance. Plus the idea of dying and leaving his family behind haunted him. However Darryl knew that the time for action had come, it was either now or never. The choice was either between dying standing strong on your own two feet fighting for what you know is right or lying in the dirt taking blows and listening to commands like some kind of animal and the choice was clear. If there was a slight chance that he could make the world just a little better for his family he would lay down his own life in a second. Although the obvious thing that left Darryl with a little more hope and allowed him to keep on charging the palace was his own ace in the hole.

Out of the pair of duplicates Darryl had sent to go find assistance throughout the city the first one had finally arrived at his destination, Saint Mary's. The duplicate, clearly exhausted, flung open the doors of the hospital scanning the rooms and corridors for anyone that looked as if they could be of use.

"We need help...a militia has formed outside the palace...we need doctors...and anyone who can put up a fight...The reign of the McNeil's ends tonight," Darryl's dupe repeated shouting at the top of his lungs while stopping frequently mid-sentence to regain his breath.

The second dupe found himself nearing 4th Avenue. He stepped cautiously as the echo of gunfire and explosions could be heard bouncing of the buildings. Darryl knew the fight would be a long one and just old bats and rocks wouldn't pose a real threat. So the second dupe roamed the streets looking for an viable and efficient weapons.


Je suis joined jewels.
Jan 19, 2009
Rico entered a normal sitting position again. "Loa? Who's Loa?"

Louie didn't answer. No one EVER answers the guy who's come to the hospital because he can't be injured.

It had been frustrating. Even after he'd decided to help out anyone who needed it, he still went to the hospital to see what was happening to him. All the invasive blood tests had failed, as no needles could pierce his skin. So he just sat there, last in line for everything. He was planning on taking his leave soon anyways, but now he wanted to know who "Loa" was and why he'd be pleased... and about what.

He stood and walked over to the doctor and the young man. "Loa? What does he want, and why's the McNeil family losing the throne?" Oh, please be true. No more drunk supers in the alleys, no more attacks on his friends, no more forcing him to do computer work, and he'd finally go back to doing music. He'd finally be able to talk to his family again. Rico felt the inner cynic spit in a word edgewise, though. Hopefully, the new rulers wouldn't be even worse than the McNeils, be they Loa or whoever else.

Lunar Templar

New member
Sep 20, 2009
Lenneth scavenged around, looking mostly for things that she and her friends would need to survive, least that's what her friends where doing, Lenneth drew the short straw and was out looking for things of monetary value to barter with later.

the whole thing left a foul taste in her mouth, but since her employers hadn't contacted her recently, she was left with little alternative. she searched for gold and silver mostly, something a value that remained valuable regardless of who ran things, so naturally she skipped over the money the ruling class hand circulated

she came under attack by other looters, whom she ether shoot, cut down or tore the life force from before throwing them a side like trash. she looted till her pockets where full, then went to take off for home, taking one last look around she saw some stealing or defacing the McNeil's property, to which she shrugs "no orders given, not my problem" and took off for home.


New member
Aug 18, 2010
Sarah placed the blame for the current state of Palm Bay squarely on the shoulders of the McNeil family, but the pitiable sight of a young boy struggling to carry his badly injured uncle quickly overcame any sense of aggression she was feeling towards them. McNeils or not, the people in front of her were human like anyone else, and they clearly cared about the well-being of their suffering relative.

Placing the old man on one of the few vacant beds, she took a moment to look over his wounds. Even without a great deal of medical knowledge, it was clear that he was in real trouble. Sarah hoped that the doctor would agree to the deal that had been offered, it was quite possible that he was the only person with the aptitude to heal a patient in such critical condition, and food and medical supplies were badly needed. While she always brought along what she could scavenge from the surrounding area, it was far too little to make much of a difference.

She turned back towards the boy who had carried the man in, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Dr Caldwell has helped people out in worse condition than this. I'm sure he'll be fine."


New member
Jul 6, 2011
Gavin moved with the crowd of rioters, keeping his feet firmly planted on the ground. He seemed to be blending in well, no one questioning his attire, grappling hook, or air tanks. He looked around, eyeing people covered in plates of metal and holding their own makeshift weapons. Poor guys probably wouldn't last for a second before being turned inside out.

As much as Gavin simply wanted to jump through the air, over the crowd, track him down, and choke that bastard McNeil to death himself, Gavin had to stay inconspicuous for the time being. Enough people were already going to get hurt or brutally killed, if they knew what he was Gavin figured he'd be forced to add to the body count. He understood that this collection of hatred he was currently wading through wasn't just directed at McNeil's rule, but all superhumans in general. Even if this crowd somehow managed to deal with McNeil and his abomination of a family, they'd soon move onto other superhumans, innocent or otherwise. And in turn, more villains would be born. Perhaps even worse than the McNeil's.

"The McNeil's..." Gavin muttered, getting a feeling for the name. It's what you'd call that family down the street who you were considering inviting to a barbecue. Not a group of powerful superhumans you're start wage war with. He thought of his family and hoped he wasn't making mistake. The last thing he'd told them was that the air force was called in to battle a few dangerous supes and they'd need back up. Gavin attempted to keep it vague and slightly bent the truth. If they knew it was the McNeil's, they wouldn't have let him leave the bunker that day. There were stories, horror stories about what some of the McNeil's had done and what they could do. His mother had made a bigger deal than the rest of her family, asking her for more information, but all Gavin could say was that they were some random supes causing trouble. It wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. He'd simply hugged them all and gotten on his way. Gavin thought he heard jets flying over head.

"I probably should've gone with the muscle, they're gonna have their hands full" Gavin said, sighing. "But someone's gotta protect the civilians." He started making his way through the crowd, forcing himself to the front. He had to keep a low profile, perhaps duck away when he had the chance, but for now he had to put himself on the front lines. When the time came, when the crowd found themselves face-to-face with even one of the McNeil's, he'd jump into action. After that, Gavin simply hoped the crowd would let the two superhumans take eachother out.

And that any other supes hiding in the crowd would be able to tell the difference between a friend and an enemy.


New member
Apr 26, 2011
This world had turned into a hell hole, while Martin had previously only cared about research he now also cared for people. Ashley had opened his eyes to the world and he was responsible for a big group of people now. Still food and medicals supplies were running low, and there were also a few smaller armed gangs that threatened the clinic. How was he supposed to help all these people? If only there was a way to make a deal with the ruling family. Still those people didn't care for anybody but themselves.

Martins thought were interrupted by a voice calling him."Doc!" Who interrupted him while he was working? He had made it clear that he really disliked that. He began to walk down the stairs to see Henry standing there, he raised his hand to greet him. Martin hated the McNeil family for what they had done to him, closed the lab and destroyed the city. Still they were the bosses of this city and they had left him alone most of the time. That had to count for something... not much though. He wasn't pleased to see them in his clinic, he could see the fear in peoples eyes. People that trusted him and looked up to him to feed and take care of them.

"Help the boy, woman!" Martin face betrayed a hint of annoyance as his coworker was ordered around like that by Henry. "I will... I will get you whatever you need, we have supplies. You want protection? You need food?" Henry forced a smile on his face and extended his hand forward. "Deal?" Henry asked the Doc eagerly with his hand extended to meet his in a handshake, meanwhile it seemed like Sarah had taken him inside. He looked to be in a dire state and would certainly die within minutes without proper medical care.

Martin looked at Henry "I ask enough food to feed everyone here for 3 months, as well as 4 soldiers or whatever you call them here to protect the clinic 24/7. And this list of medical supplies, That is the deal." He gave Henry the long list, as he walked over to the table with the wounded man, looking up at Henry he knew he had no other choice. And Martin wouldn't back down, they needed those supplies bad. "Deal?" He extended his hand to the man he could see the expression of the man change, he obviously didn't like the demands. Still Martin knew that this was the only way to keep the people fed. And besides they would probably wouldn't even miss the food. And he also knew that as soon as he had healed him, he would lose his position of power. So the deal needed to be made now.

The Harkinator

Did something happen?
Jun 2, 2010
The McNeil family did what they wanted, even in the middle of an invasion they had time to point a gun at James, Ben McNeil was the man who had done it, a mountain of a man who was used to getting his own way. He had wanted James to follow him, there seemed no choice but to comply. 'Perhaps there was a choice, I could slip away and be out of his sight before he even notices anything is wrong, but what about the others? They might be punished.' James stayed with the group, lest any suffer the wrath of Ben McNeil.

Then a burst of courage had spurred him on, turning away from Ben McNeil, James ran as fast as he could, his power carrying him away from the fighting with great speed. The army had come to knock the McNeils off their perch, that was fine with James. As he had often taught his class, families are meant to rise and fall. But what replaced them worried him, history taught that a power vacuum meant chaos and a sudden change in leadership caused conflict. Where could he go?

James thought there was one place the army and the McNeil family would protect at all costs, the hospital. Thinking with six times the speed of an ordinary man, James visualised the route to the hospital.


New member
Dec 25, 2008
"They shot me!"

Fromanzio coughed a bit as he desperately dressed his wound. A makeshift bandage via a dirty street rag. Infections were not nearly as bad as bleeding to death and he would make whoever that was pay dearly. Granted, this was not the first time he had been shot, but that was a big bullet.

Fromanzio was aware as to what was going on, the military was trying to retake the city. He was going to ensure that they lost their little war. Morality, duty, all of it was nothing in the eyes of Fromanzio. There were only dead people, and not dead people and quite often the not deads changed their status.

I told you we really should not have been waiting around on a building during a war.

Shut up.

You never listen to me.

I never listen to you because you never have anything worth saying.

Fine, I will just sit here and watch you continue your atrocities.

The voices in his head began to die down and again, the wound was still an issue. Perhaps the clinic would be able to do something. Fromanzio's rags began to bleed through a tiny bit. Time was not on his side with this one. The wound was still a graze, not damaging the bone and Fromanzio could still use the arm but bleeding out was still an option at this point.

The nearest clinic was owned by one Dr.Caldwell and although it had probably been commandeered, Fromanzio did not have his guns on him at the moment and probably wouldn't be shot on sight. Or so he hoped anyway.


New member
Jul 20, 2011
The sounds of chaos erupted around Chucky as he strode through the shopping area of the city. With no McNeils around to stop him, he had been free to take anything of value at his leisure. In the old America, Charles would have been disgusted with the actions of the looters. In the old America, he might have used his power to stop them. But this wasn't the America he knew.

Charles walked down the sidewalk with a bookbag in one hand, and a tire iron he "liberated' from a fellow looter in the other. He blissfully sang to himself as he walked by the various shops.

"How much is that doggie in the window.
The one with the waggley tail.
How much is that doggie in the window.
I do hope that doggie's for sale."

He stopped and set his eyes upon one of the jewelry shops the women of the McNeils would frequent. He raised the tire iron and batted away the glass of the window left from previous visitors before proceeding inside. Helping himself to the slim arrangement of jewels not picked by looters, Charles stopped at a particularly exquisite sapphire ring.

"Oh. Lucy would love this"

He began filling his bag with the rare gems and metals, then went back out onto the chaotic streets of Palm Bay; hoping there would be an electronics store nearby he could see to next.


New member
Feb 10, 2011
" OW... Ow... Hunny! ... Fucking Stop!... AH!"

Before Ottis realized it, his wife of 28 years tossed his naked ass onto the street. Bad enough he feels terrible for zapping her, but the screaming and hitting him part made it hard for him to concentrate on not doing it again.

" Bloody fucking hell." as he looked at his house and was hearing gun fire and chaos off in the distance.

The second story window opened, and his wife's head popped out. " Come back when ya can fucking control that shit" and like the first time he zapped her she threw at him some pants, his skate board and his life saver the ipod.

"What, no underwear!?"

She shut the window.

While standing there in his birthday suit all Ottis could think was how lucky he is. McNeil family allows him and his family to live in the "Old America" part of town cause of his D-list celeb status. A pit stop for when "honored" guest show up and are on their merry little way to the shops. At least they don't make him play for their birthdays or anything.

"I need fraq-ing drink"
Putting his pants on, and cranking his tunes to max. Ottis walks holding his board like a weapon as he realizes the gun fire isn't stopping and the screaming is getting louder. Something is wrong, no guards on patrol and if its like anything like the first riots; Ottis will need to keep an electric charge going. He knows his wife will be safe, her baseball bat and 15 years of kungfu classes kept their home safe the first time around. His sons are all probably at the pawn shop with their guns and reenforced doors.

" Great I'll need the Amp too..."
And with that he heads off to the pub.


New member
Nov 16, 2010
This Ben character had to be joking. But even a cursory glance his mind revealed a tempest of fear, rage, and adrenaline; he would not tolerate disobedience. So be it, but John would not be dying out here and the longer he stayed out here the greater the chance he'd become collateral in a superhuman conflict in which he was helpless. He had to get to safety.

And he had one thing to his advantage; he could feel the minds of the combatants, and while it was not particularly precise it was a good enough indicator of where everyone was. He could roughly sense an out of body detachment in the armed figures advancing up the road; drilled soldiers no doubt. This gave him a good idea of where not to be, and he'd be able to use the terrain to block lines of sight and make his escape.

But his train of thought was distracted by something behind him.

with the other citizens over the soup, and he'd managed to establish that James had some sort of power (those thoughts and feelings quickly surface when anyone mentions supers) but exactly what it was had eluded him.

And now it was James' mind that distracted him.

It was a maelstrom - the winds and the currents were swirling with such a velocity they threatened to engulf him; it was the same mind, but on fast forward. Out of necessity he tore his mind away and began to back off towards the yellow house, and away from the confrontation

And in a flash, James ran off at inhuman speeds. With Ben distracted John also ran, but into the yard of the yellow house and round the side. The plan was to huge the building and stay low; using the cars for cover, and get into the apartment block right next to the yellow house, which he knew was open. The soldiers were still on the street but it sounded like they were in a gunfight with another group he sensed on the road and soldiers didn't shoot unarmed civilians, especially when there were armed fighters shooting at them... at least that was the gamble.

And so; hands up for good measure and ready to sprint the short distance; he stepped into the street.

Lunar Templar

New member
Sep 20, 2009
Lenneth arrived a few minutes later and her friends discussed briefly what they should do next, with the riots, incoming storm and army on the way, it seemed like a good time to just leave, how ever Lucy, as it turned out needed medical attention they could not provide.

it was decided, Lenneth would fly Lucy to the Hospital to get looked at while Kenneth and Gin made ready to skip town. Lenneth flew as quick as she could safely with a live passenger, but when she got there she found the ER full with injured people from the riots. Lenneth frowned sat Lucy down and flagged a nurse down to see Lucy, but was told to 'wait like every one else'. she was all together unsurprised but annoyed regardless. so for the time being Lenneth sat by Lucy as they waited for some one to she her.

Lenneth got no end of funny looks, and rightly so, she did resemble an angel of death


New member
Dec 25, 2008
The building was in Fromanzio's sights. He wondered for a second how weird people will think it is to see an injured jester, but that thought faded when he felt light headed due to the blood loss. He hobbled inside the hospital, blood oozing out of his arm and yelled. "Excuse me, I hope this is not of too much botherings, but I am kind of about to die here."

It was now that he began investigating the room. There were chairs around everywhere, people were standing injured as well, probably from the same military bastards that hit poor Fromanzio. Still, his would was a bit more serious as the people surrounding him were either dead, or had cuts and bruises.

"In fact, could we please hurry with that one?"

Lunar Templar

New member
Sep 20, 2009
Lenneth watched the 'clown' walk in, he was hard to miss, so she did what she thought was best, she got up, walked over to him "hey, take my seat, you look like you need it" she said pointing to the chair she'd been sitting in


New member
Dec 25, 2008
Fromanzio was getting delirious at this point. Flying with blood loss does that sometimes but one of the friendlier guests stood up to help. She was strikingly beautiful, though Fromanzio's warping made him essentially asexual and he couldn't care less about it. What he did care about was the fact that she had offered him her seat.

Say hello damn you. Every time this happens you just stab the person or shoot them and take the seat, I honestly don't understand.

Geeze, I don't always do that! Sometimes I blow them up too! This seems to be a bad time to do that though, seeing as how I would probably just bleed out, and I forgot my guns...

"We-er Fromanzio I mean I appreciate your offer miss. So hard to find courtesy during an invasion you know? Someone sees you flying about and without warning he shoots you! The rudeness of these invaders is entirely deplorable! Someone aught to teach them some manners... Speaking of! What is your name?

Fromanzio slowly took his seat, the person sitting next to him looked a mix of confused, bewildered and outright horrified at how casually Fromanzio seemed to be taking what had to be a very painful wound.

Lunar Templar

New member
Sep 20, 2009
"Lenneth" she said after he explained what happened, Lenneth frowned "so much for leaving then, if they're that close and taking shots and anyone that moves, we're stuck here" she said with increasing annoyance and disappointment

'looks like blood will need to be shed no matter what side i take, idiots, who cares who controls what' she thought as she stood by her friend


New member
Dec 25, 2008
Fromanzio looked at the ceiling, wondering when someone would take a look at the gaping wound in front of them.

You aught to make her an ally, god knows you could use one.

I know what I am doing, leave me alone already!

"Fromanzio is going to be killing as many of those invaders as possible once he is out of here. We honestly don't care who wins but Fromanzio has had a distinct lack of people to put holes in recently and despite their training, Fromanzio knows they will go down like the rest."

Fromanzio let out a pain filled chuckle as laid back in his chair. "Feel free to take a side on this, but Fromanzio is going to be killing the invaders...unless the current rulers make us mad, in which case we will start killing everyone. Should that be the case, perhaps we will skip over you? Yes that seems fair."