Play as Casey Ward, a Trump able to mix and match KEYWORDS to create his own powers. The catch? He has to be around cape death, or else.
Psychopomp [Worm]
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Origin 1.1
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Casey woke to pain. The dull ache of old injury faded into irrelevance compared to the sharp pain of something (handcuffs?) digging into his wrists. An itch suffused his body, an urge to do something, he just didn't know what. Last he knew, he'd been with friends. And then... the siren. It came back to him in a rush. Leviathan. Rushing to a shelter but... he hadn't made it, he didn't think? Or had he? But no.
He hadn't.
One of his friends had reacted first.
"I've got to get to my family!" Chris said. His eyes were wide and frantic but Casey saw something else there, too. Resolve, maybe? Or perhaps a simple acceptance. He hadn't felt it then, he couldn't, but if he met him again?
The rest of the group started to the nearest shelter. They hadn't made it in time and... images came to his mind, but he suppressed it. Now wasn't the time. Now he needed to figure out what had happened. And figure out what that infernal itch was!
He opened his eyes and almost wished he hadn't. The room was windowless, a water heater nestled into a corner, and a dinginess to it that suggested a basement. He wasn't alone. Two others, both young women, were in the room alongside him. They didn't look much better than he felt. It also made him realize something.
Casey had a small frame for a teenage boy. For a girl his age, though? His 5'4 was about right. He also kept his hair long, and it had a bit of natural curl to it. More than once, his girl friends (not to be confused with girlfriends) had expressed jealousy about that. Had he been mistaken for a girl? It wouldn't have been the first time.
An immense shadow in the distance, three eyes with an ominous green glow, a wave of water approaching in the distance. Others, like him, not able to reach a shelter in time. In that moment he saw. And then he forgot, like all the rest, except he remembers that he forgot. Forgot what? He didn't know.
Briefly, he is reminded again. And then it is gone again. And then Casey noticed. He could feel someone above him, like a pressure behind his eyes, a sense of something. He is reminded of a slip and slide, playing with his friends, laughing and enjoying themselves. Of a skating rink, of slipping on ice, of an escalator. He doesn't know why he feels these things. He just does.
He still felt the itch. When he had felt the... thing, somewhere above him, the itch had grown. Stronger and stronger, a desire to do something, something to scratch that itch.
The capes died. Before the sea incarnate, before Leviathan, resistance seemed meaningless. He did not yet know that this would be a 'good day.' That only one in four capes fell, Brockton Bay spared, an early warning allowing most people to get to the shelters, had spared the worst. He only knew the futility. And the pleasure. A cape died, and he felt it, something entering into him. A surge of pleasure, involuntary, and the itch briefly fades.
Oh shit, Casey realized. He was a cape. And he had one way to scratch that itch. He didn't have to kill them himself, no. He just had to be near them. How near? He didn't know. But near. But he also realized somethinge else. He could do something. Create a tool, after a fashion, and enable his escape. He had the requisite materials. After all, hadn't he collected it, on the battlefield? The only questions were, what did he have, and what did he make?
[] PACKAGE SHAPER (Gain ten motes. Gain the KEYWORDS: STRIKER, BRUTE, CHANGER, TRUMP, REGEN, CRAFT, FIRE, FLESH, CONTROL. Gain: An End to Misery)
[] PACKAGE INSIGHT (Gain ten motes. Gain the KEYWORDS: THINKER, MASTER, STRANGER, INSIGHT, PREDICTION, FUTURE, PAST, PRESENT, STRATEGY. Gain: A Severed Connection)
[] PACKAGE FRAGILE (Gain ten motes. Gain the KEYWORDS: BRUTE, SHAKER, MOVER, AURA, SHIELD, BLASTER, FLIGHT, FEAR, AWE. Gain: A Horror Show)
He hadn't.
One of his friends had reacted first.
"I've got to get to my family!" Chris said. His eyes were wide and frantic but Casey saw something else there, too. Resolve, maybe? Or perhaps a simple acceptance. He hadn't felt it then, he couldn't, but if he met him again?
The rest of the group started to the nearest shelter. They hadn't made it in time and... images came to his mind, but he suppressed it. Now wasn't the time. Now he needed to figure out what had happened. And figure out what that infernal itch was!
He opened his eyes and almost wished he hadn't. The room was windowless, a water heater nestled into a corner, and a dinginess to it that suggested a basement. He wasn't alone. Two others, both young women, were in the room alongside him. They didn't look much better than he felt. It also made him realize something.
Casey had a small frame for a teenage boy. For a girl his age, though? His 5'4 was about right. He also kept his hair long, and it had a bit of natural curl to it. More than once, his girl friends (not to be confused with girlfriends) had expressed jealousy about that. Had he been mistaken for a girl? It wouldn't have been the first time.
An immense shadow in the distance, three eyes with an ominous green glow, a wave of water approaching in the distance. Others, like him, not able to reach a shelter in time. In that moment he saw. And then he forgot, like all the rest, except he remembers that he forgot. Forgot what? He didn't know.
Briefly, he is reminded again. And then it is gone again. And then Casey noticed. He could feel someone above him, like a pressure behind his eyes, a sense of something. He is reminded of a slip and slide, playing with his friends, laughing and enjoying themselves. Of a skating rink, of slipping on ice, of an escalator. He doesn't know why he feels these things. He just does.
He still felt the itch. When he had felt the... thing, somewhere above him, the itch had grown. Stronger and stronger, a desire to do something, something to scratch that itch.
The capes died. Before the sea incarnate, before Leviathan, resistance seemed meaningless. He did not yet know that this would be a 'good day.' That only one in four capes fell, Brockton Bay spared, an early warning allowing most people to get to the shelters, had spared the worst. He only knew the futility. And the pleasure. A cape died, and he felt it, something entering into him. A surge of pleasure, involuntary, and the itch briefly fades.
Oh shit, Casey realized. He was a cape. And he had one way to scratch that itch. He didn't have to kill them himself, no. He just had to be near them. How near? He didn't know. But near. But he also realized somethinge else. He could do something. Create a tool, after a fashion, and enable his escape. He had the requisite materials. After all, hadn't he collected it, on the battlefield? The only questions were, what did he have, and what did he make?
[] PACKAGE SHAPER (Gain ten motes. Gain the KEYWORDS: STRIKER, BRUTE, CHANGER, TRUMP, REGEN, CRAFT, FIRE, FLESH, CONTROL. Gain: An End to Misery)
[] PACKAGE INSIGHT (Gain ten motes. Gain the KEYWORDS: THINKER, MASTER, STRANGER, INSIGHT, PREDICTION, FUTURE, PAST, PRESENT, STRATEGY. Gain: A Severed Connection)
[] PACKAGE FRAGILE (Gain ten motes. Gain the KEYWORDS: BRUTE, SHAKER, MOVER, AURA, SHIELD, BLASTER, FLIGHT, FEAR, AWE. Gain: A Horror Show)
You possess an incredibly potent Trump power. You do not intuit everything about it, not yet, but you know enough to begin. You may mix and match keywords to generate a power. The first will be auto-generated to create a power. Don't worry--you can break down powers into their KEYWORDS and motes at any point you can rest. Nothing is permanently wasted.
You may hold multiple powers, but be aware: each power requires motes to empower, and as each grows more powerful, more motes are required to increase its strength. In order to get to the final rank? Kill an Endbringer, that turns the power permanent, refunding all of the motes and turns it into something on par with Eidolon, the Faerie Queen, or Contessa.
The only catch? In order to gain motes and KEYWORDS you have to be near capes as they die. You don't have to personally kill them, but the longer you go without gaining motes, the more your shard will push at you. At first it manifests as an itch. Try not to let it get worse.
You may hold multiple powers, but be aware: each power requires motes to empower, and as each grows more powerful, more motes are required to increase its strength. In order to get to the final rank? Kill an Endbringer, that turns the power permanent, refunding all of the motes and turns it into something on par with Eidolon, the Faerie Queen, or Contessa.
The only catch? In order to gain motes and KEYWORDS you have to be near capes as they die. You don't have to personally kill them, but the longer you go without gaining motes, the more your shard will push at you. At first it manifests as an itch. Try not to let it get worse.
I'm not going to lie. This is probably a controversial choice. Each of these PACKAGES represent a potent combination of KEYWORDS and enough motes to achieve the fifth rank in any power. This is roughly equivalent to the PRT Rating of 5, though some powers are far more potent at a lower rank.
Unfortunately, this isn't free. Each choices represents a canonical character killed, each of which survived Leviathan. Each death is significant, and could change the story in remarkable ways. It isn't that hard to figure out who dies, but do think of what the consequences might be. None of these characters exist as a void; the death of one might impact another, or other fan favorite characters.
Unfortunately, this isn't free. Each choices represents a canonical character killed, each of which survived Leviathan. Each death is significant, and could change the story in remarkable ways. It isn't that hard to figure out who dies, but do think of what the consequences might be. None of these characters exist as a void; the death of one might impact another, or other fan favorite characters.
Character Sheet
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Casey Ward (Protean)
Age 18
Motes: 0 (25)
Age 18
Motes: 0 (25)
MOVER, TRUMP, STRANGER, STRIKER, CHANGER, ACCELERATION, INTERTIA, SENSE, SKILL, FIELD, FIRE, THIEF
FLESHWEAVER (Shaker)(SHAKER, FLESH, CRAFT, CONTROL) (Rank 6) Biology is your plaything. Twist the forms of biological life to your will. Range, speed, and severity of viable change expands at higher ranks. Panacea, but a Shaker. (10 motes)
PATH TO CONFUSION (Thinker)(THINKER, SCRAMBLE) (Rank 6) Casey gains knowledge of Thinker effects applied to him, as well as knowledge of steps that may be taken to confound or confuse the Thinker. Higher levels apply to more esoteric and potent powers, as well as allow for a greater degree of confounding. (10 motes)
LAZARUS (Brute)(BRUTE, REGEN) (Rank 4) Casey regenerates wounds he receives. The more wounded, the more rapidly he regenerates. If Casey is slain, he returns to life after a delayed period of time--anywhere from 3 minutes to 3 days. He self-resurrects more quickly the higher the rank. (5 motes)
PATH TO CONFUSION (Thinker)(THINKER, SCRAMBLE) (Rank 6) Casey gains knowledge of Thinker effects applied to him, as well as knowledge of steps that may be taken to confound or confuse the Thinker. Higher levels apply to more esoteric and potent powers, as well as allow for a greater degree of confounding. (10 motes)
LAZARUS (Brute)(BRUTE, REGEN) (Rank 4) Casey regenerates wounds he receives. The more wounded, the more rapidly he regenerates. If Casey is slain, he returns to life after a delayed period of time--anywhere from 3 minutes to 3 days. He self-resurrects more quickly the higher the rank. (5 motes)
MOVER, SHAKER, THINKER, TRUMP, BRUTE, STRANGER, STRIKER, CHANGER, ACCELERATION, INTERTIA, SCRAMBLE, SENSE, SKILL, CRAFT, FIELD, FLESH, REGEN, FIRE, CONTROL, THIEF
Last edited:
Vote closed
Origin 1.2
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Casey didn't understand what he was doing. He just knew he had a spot, at the back of his mind, that had collected... something. He couldn't put it into words, not precisely, but he could get a general idea. With each of the things that he touched, he felt something. A sense of what they were, not as little packets of information, but in sensation.
He counted nine of them. He reached towards the first.
The feeling of flesh against flesh, transmitting commands, granting of gifts, shaping of flesh.
My Victor/my Victoria!
The second felt simpler. Solid, immovable, strong. And on he went, down the list. He reached for the ones that felt the most useful to his current situation.
First, the one that felt strong. He needed to break these cuffs somehow, and then manage to escape from wherever he was. He didn't want to fight but he could still feel that thing above him. If it came to a fight... well, being strong seemed like a good thing to Casey. After that he tossed in something else, something that felt shifty to him, like molding clay in art class. Now it wasn't even him making the decisions, something inside him knew what it wanted, and he gave control to his power.
A dash of something that felt fundamental, more real than the rest. Some chicken soup. And lastly... barbecue? Why did his power thinks these things would help, or whatever they represented, and was he wrong to just give control like that?
And then he understood the power.
Casey's muscles swelled and then streamlined again, did so again, and then again. The end result was explosive power several fold greater than before, significantly greater endurance, and a fairly rapid regenerative factor. More than that, his blood had been replaced by some sort of substance that ignited upon exiting his body. This would normally be a problem for him, but his own physiology would not be burnt by... most things. He didn't want to stand in the sun or something, but he wouldn't hurt himself. He had some limited control of this, though he wouldn't have much of it, nor of the fire is spread unless he... added something?
And lastly, his body would adapt to resist anything that struck him. Especially other powers.
Yeah, he thought to himself. I can work with this.
The handcuffs binding him were fairly easy to break. They had dug into his skin and he was bleeding on them. With a flex of will, the blood traveled along the cuff and down the chain. They wouldn't melt, not really, but it didn't take long for the cuffs to lose much of their strength. He simply pulled his hands apart and with a loud crack the cuffs broke from him. He still had the bracelets--digging uncomfortably into his skin--but he could figure that out later.
Now he needed to escape... and hopefully help his other two prisoners. Both of them were still unconscious, he noted. Did his power wake him up before them, maybe?
It doesn't matter, he decided. He can call the police and PRT after his escape. Besides, his new power seemed almost designed to cause collateral damage. Any injury had a chance of hurting not only his attacker, but anyone else in the area too. And that's before he thought about the possible fires.
The basement room he had been stashed in was small. Just enough room for a water heater, a pair of laundry machines, and apparently prisoners. The staircase only took a few steps to reach and he started up it. It was a rickety old thing, with rotting wood, and he briefly wondered how a step hadn't broken when they brought him down.
Casey opens the door prepared to face down whatever kidnappers he finds. He... is not especially impressed with their readiness.
You seem to have caught them in the middle of a party, of sorts. Men and women alike are in various states of intoxication, inebriation, and unclothed status. One man seems to be the center of it all, garbed in a shitty cape with a half-mask covering the top of his face. You don't really recognize him, he's probably one of the local small timers. Brockton Bay had a shit ton of them, after all. What's more important is the itch.
It fills you.
What do you do?
[] He's a Brute. Be a Brute. Wade into them, let their attacks do nothing, and handle this cape. Casey doesn't know his power but if he hasn't heard of him, it can't be that dangerous, can it? Casey is confident this is the only other cape present.
-[] Kill the cape. It might get the PRT on Casey's ass, but he thinks it can be spun as self-defense. After all, this cape was clearly up to some deeply not okay shit.
-[] Spare him. Casey isn't sure if he can bring himself to kill, and the attention it will bring. Besides, he understand he can satiate his power in other ways, even if the payoff isn't as guaranteed.
[] ...they aren't really paying attention to him. Just slip out and call the PRT and police. They'll handle things from there.
He counted nine of them. He reached towards the first.
The feeling of flesh against flesh, transmitting commands, granting of gifts, shaping of flesh.
My Victor/my Victoria!
The second felt simpler. Solid, immovable, strong. And on he went, down the list. He reached for the ones that felt the most useful to his current situation.
First, the one that felt strong. He needed to break these cuffs somehow, and then manage to escape from wherever he was. He didn't want to fight but he could still feel that thing above him. If it came to a fight... well, being strong seemed like a good thing to Casey. After that he tossed in something else, something that felt shifty to him, like molding clay in art class. Now it wasn't even him making the decisions, something inside him knew what it wanted, and he gave control to his power.
A dash of something that felt fundamental, more real than the rest. Some chicken soup. And lastly... barbecue? Why did his power thinks these things would help, or whatever they represented, and was he wrong to just give control like that?
And then he understood the power.
Casey's muscles swelled and then streamlined again, did so again, and then again. The end result was explosive power several fold greater than before, significantly greater endurance, and a fairly rapid regenerative factor. More than that, his blood had been replaced by some sort of substance that ignited upon exiting his body. This would normally be a problem for him, but his own physiology would not be burnt by... most things. He didn't want to stand in the sun or something, but he wouldn't hurt himself. He had some limited control of this, though he wouldn't have much of it, nor of the fire is spread unless he... added something?
And lastly, his body would adapt to resist anything that struck him. Especially other powers.
Yeah, he thought to himself. I can work with this.
The handcuffs binding him were fairly easy to break. They had dug into his skin and he was bleeding on them. With a flex of will, the blood traveled along the cuff and down the chain. They wouldn't melt, not really, but it didn't take long for the cuffs to lose much of their strength. He simply pulled his hands apart and with a loud crack the cuffs broke from him. He still had the bracelets--digging uncomfortably into his skin--but he could figure that out later.
Now he needed to escape... and hopefully help his other two prisoners. Both of them were still unconscious, he noted. Did his power wake him up before them, maybe?
It doesn't matter, he decided. He can call the police and PRT after his escape. Besides, his new power seemed almost designed to cause collateral damage. Any injury had a chance of hurting not only his attacker, but anyone else in the area too. And that's before he thought about the possible fires.
The basement room he had been stashed in was small. Just enough room for a water heater, a pair of laundry machines, and apparently prisoners. The staircase only took a few steps to reach and he started up it. It was a rickety old thing, with rotting wood, and he briefly wondered how a step hadn't broken when they brought him down.
Casey opens the door prepared to face down whatever kidnappers he finds. He... is not especially impressed with their readiness.
You seem to have caught them in the middle of a party, of sorts. Men and women alike are in various states of intoxication, inebriation, and unclothed status. One man seems to be the center of it all, garbed in a shitty cape with a half-mask covering the top of his face. You don't really recognize him, he's probably one of the local small timers. Brockton Bay had a shit ton of them, after all. What's more important is the itch.
It fills you.
What do you do?
[] He's a Brute. Be a Brute. Wade into them, let their attacks do nothing, and handle this cape. Casey doesn't know his power but if he hasn't heard of him, it can't be that dangerous, can it? Casey is confident this is the only other cape present.
-[] Kill the cape. It might get the PRT on Casey's ass, but he thinks it can be spun as self-defense. After all, this cape was clearly up to some deeply not okay shit.
-[] Spare him. Casey isn't sure if he can bring himself to kill, and the attention it will bring. Besides, he understand he can satiate his power in other ways, even if the payoff isn't as guaranteed.
[] ...they aren't really paying attention to him. Just slip out and call the PRT and police. They'll handle things from there.
Vote closed
Origin 1.3
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Casey thought about it for a long minute. This shithead had picked him from the battlefield, likely while the fight was going on. Whoever he was, he clearly hadn't contributed much to the defense of the city, and he'd used the opportunity to... yeah. He didn't know if it was the relentless itch driving him, the need to claim more for himself, or if maybe he'd always had some part of him willing to do this.
This cape was going to die tonight.
Casey strode forward, small drips of blood falling from where the cuffs still dig into his wrists. His flesh regenerated and broke on the steel again and again, the strange ichor his blood had become eating away at the cuff. He expected it would fall apart on its own soon enough.
The fuckers didn't even do this right. Who cuffs a person that tight? Unless they're into it, I guess, he mused.
The first person to see him is a younger man, perhaps a year or two older than Casey, and in other circumstances he might try his luck. These are not those circumstances. Casey grabs the young man and lifts him over his head. One of the women finally notices him and simply stares for a moment. Casey muses that it must be the sight, his diminutive form lifting a man that is nearly six feet tall.
He throws the man into the group and wades in. Few of the group actually attempt anything, at least those of them sober enough to notice what's happening. He bodily throws them around, and when one large man pulls a knife, Casey simply lets it enter him. The stabber screams in pain as some of the strange ichor splashes onto him and ignites a small fire. Casey grabs him and rips the shirt from the stabber's body, smothering the flame before it can spread.
The stab itself had already healed, the flesh around it shifting oh so slightly to be more resistant to future stabbings. It isn't much, but it's something, and Casey is thankful for it. Before the morale of the group can break, there's a shout.
"The FUCK do you fucknuggets think you're doing? Let me handle this cockswallower," the unknown cape yelled. The man holds his hands up and a glowing gradient appears on the ground, going from purple to blue. Those on the blue side found themselves pulled gently to the end of it, whereas those on the purple were pulled with more force, putting them to the back of the crowd.
"Now watch while I teach this cumgargler what happens to trash that messes with the MERCHANTS!" the cape screams again. His teeth are badly darkened and jagged.
Layers of purple and blue appear, his fist accelerated by it. Casey tries to react, but the cape's attack is too quick to dodge.
The first thing I'm doing is actually learn how to fight, Casey thought to himself.
The fist catches him in the chest and the unknown cape looks triumphant... only for Casey to stand unmoved.
"Fuck you!" the unknown shouts. He tries the same attack again, to the same result. Casey finally takes action and strikes the cape across the face.
There is a crack of flesh meeting flesh followed by the crack of bone breaking. The other cape is on the ground, blood trickling from his mouth. He tries to say something but his jaw isn't moving quite right. Casey steps forward, finally deciding to end things.
He thinks he should feel something, here. Some sort of regret, or even a hot blooded rage, perhaps even a sense of satisfaction. He doesn't, except for a small bit of excitement. He had a power, a strong power he thought, and he was going to give it a chance to feed.
Adam was going to get out this shitty city, away from it all. He was tired of being looked down on. It was like a puzzle...
It won't be long before the police and PRT show up. Casey has a pretty ironclad reason for his actions, and the fact it was during a "trigger event" means he won't face legal consequences. Still, he has to decide if he wants to stick around or not.
[] Stick around. The police and PRT will be aware you are a parahuman, and that Casey killed Skidmark. He will be pressured into joining the Protectorate (once they realize he's actually eighteen), and he may choose to join or not. He will not face legal consequences due to a combination of extenuating circumstances and a desire to keep a potentially powerful cape on the side of angels.
[] Leave. Casey is confident the police will quickly free the hostages and get them appropriate medical treatment. He, on the other hand, has no desire to stick around and have his identity blown. The police and PRT will definitely be looking for him, though, and a body on the ground without a statement from him might give the PRT more room to "aggressively" recruit him.
[][POWER] Utilize PSYCHOPOMP to create, modify, or break apart powers.
-[] Add a KEYWORD to [existing power]
-[] Add motes to [existing power]
-[] Break apart [existing power] and reclaim all motes and keywords (requires at least eight hours of rest).
POWER PANEL
CURRENT MOTES 5
eta: I'm going to be out of town tomorrow so have an extra long vote period, I'll start writing Tuesday morning
This cape was going to die tonight.
Casey strode forward, small drips of blood falling from where the cuffs still dig into his wrists. His flesh regenerated and broke on the steel again and again, the strange ichor his blood had become eating away at the cuff. He expected it would fall apart on its own soon enough.
The fuckers didn't even do this right. Who cuffs a person that tight? Unless they're into it, I guess, he mused.
The first person to see him is a younger man, perhaps a year or two older than Casey, and in other circumstances he might try his luck. These are not those circumstances. Casey grabs the young man and lifts him over his head. One of the women finally notices him and simply stares for a moment. Casey muses that it must be the sight, his diminutive form lifting a man that is nearly six feet tall.
He throws the man into the group and wades in. Few of the group actually attempt anything, at least those of them sober enough to notice what's happening. He bodily throws them around, and when one large man pulls a knife, Casey simply lets it enter him. The stabber screams in pain as some of the strange ichor splashes onto him and ignites a small fire. Casey grabs him and rips the shirt from the stabber's body, smothering the flame before it can spread.
The stab itself had already healed, the flesh around it shifting oh so slightly to be more resistant to future stabbings. It isn't much, but it's something, and Casey is thankful for it. Before the morale of the group can break, there's a shout.
"The FUCK do you fucknuggets think you're doing? Let me handle this cockswallower," the unknown cape yelled. The man holds his hands up and a glowing gradient appears on the ground, going from purple to blue. Those on the blue side found themselves pulled gently to the end of it, whereas those on the purple were pulled with more force, putting them to the back of the crowd.
"Now watch while I teach this cumgargler what happens to trash that messes with the MERCHANTS!" the cape screams again. His teeth are badly darkened and jagged.
Layers of purple and blue appear, his fist accelerated by it. Casey tries to react, but the cape's attack is too quick to dodge.
The first thing I'm doing is actually learn how to fight, Casey thought to himself.
The fist catches him in the chest and the unknown cape looks triumphant... only for Casey to stand unmoved.
"Fuck you!" the unknown shouts. He tries the same attack again, to the same result. Casey finally takes action and strikes the cape across the face.
There is a crack of flesh meeting flesh followed by the crack of bone breaking. The other cape is on the ground, blood trickling from his mouth. He tries to say something but his jaw isn't moving quite right. Casey steps forward, finally deciding to end things.
He thinks he should feel something, here. Some sort of regret, or even a hot blooded rage, perhaps even a sense of satisfaction. He doesn't, except for a small bit of excitement. He had a power, a strong power he thought, and he was going to give it a chance to feed.
Adam was going to get out this shitty city, away from it all. He was tired of being looked down on. It was like a puzzle...
It won't be long before the police and PRT show up. Casey has a pretty ironclad reason for his actions, and the fact it was during a "trigger event" means he won't face legal consequences. Still, he has to decide if he wants to stick around or not.
[] Stick around. The police and PRT will be aware you are a parahuman, and that Casey killed Skidmark. He will be pressured into joining the Protectorate (once they realize he's actually eighteen), and he may choose to join or not. He will not face legal consequences due to a combination of extenuating circumstances and a desire to keep a potentially powerful cape on the side of angels.
[] Leave. Casey is confident the police will quickly free the hostages and get them appropriate medical treatment. He, on the other hand, has no desire to stick around and have his identity blown. The police and PRT will definitely be looking for him, though, and a body on the ground without a statement from him might give the PRT more room to "aggressively" recruit him.
[][POWER] Utilize PSYCHOPOMP to create, modify, or break apart powers.
-[] Add a KEYWORD to [existing power]
-[] Add motes to [existing power]
-[] Break apart [existing power] and reclaim all motes and keywords (requires at least eight hours of rest).
POWER PANEL
CURRENT MOTES 5
STRIKER, CRAFT, SHAKER, MOVER, INERTIA, FIELD, ACCELERATE
PSYCHOPOMP (Rank 12)(Trump): Harvest KEYWORDS and motes from dying capes. Use them to create powers. Gain a minor Thinker power to identify capes.
PHOENIX(Rank 5)(Trump/Brute/Changer)(BRUTE, TRUMP, CHANGER, FLESH, REGEN, FIRE, CONTROL) Burn to ash and rise again, stronger than before. Casey regenerates damage taken, the more damage taken the more rapidly they regenerate. As they regenerate, they shade "feathers" of flame, which they have moderate control over. They grow stronger the more times they regenerate, generating virtual "motes" which may improve PHOENIX by up to three ranks. (10 motes)
PHOENIX(Rank 5)(Trump/Brute/Changer)(BRUTE, TRUMP, CHANGER, FLESH, REGEN, FIRE, CONTROL) Burn to ash and rise again, stronger than before. Casey regenerates damage taken, the more damage taken the more rapidly they regenerate. As they regenerate, they shade "feathers" of flame, which they have moderate control over. They grow stronger the more times they regenerate, generating virtual "motes" which may improve PHOENIX by up to three ranks. (10 motes)
eta: I'm going to be out of town tomorrow so have an extra long vote period, I'll start writing Tuesday morning
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Vote closed
Origin 1.4
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Casey scans the room he's in. He only has a bit of time before the police shows up, and he'd rather keep his face hidden. He expected that the local PRT and Protectorate would still be able to find him, at least if they put the effort in. The group he'd busted up likely got a good look at his face, at least if they were sober enough to really recognize him, and beyond that the PRT kept a group of Thinkers on call he was pretty sure. So if they really wanted to know, they'd know. Still, getting some sort of face covering sent a message and expectation of privacy, so it seemed like a good idea.
The very first thing Casey considered was the dead cape's mask. He quickly dismissed the idea. The thing was dirty and stained, not just with the cape's blood but substances he didn't especially want to think about. A quick scan of the living room didn't reveal other possibilities... some grimy looking towels and a throw blanket that could be used in a pinch, he supposed? Moving onto the kitchen ended up pointless. Nothing but junk food and rats.
The bedroom ended up more rewarding. Not only did Casey find a pack of shitty domino masks, presumably for future recruitment into whatever gang "the Merchants" were, but he also found a small stash of money and pills. He left the pills in place, not sure if he actually trusted anything this group sold, but he took several hundred dollars from the stash of cash. He made sure to leave most of it, though. No reason to raise suspicions by leaving a looted house.
Around the time he finished and had the mask firmly in place, Casey saw the flashing of lights outside a window.
Game face time, he thought to himself.
A loud banging comes from the door.
"PRT open up!" shouts an officer. Before Casey even has the chance to open the door, it is burst open by a portable battering ram. A group of armed PRT troopers stomp into the room, foam sprayers at ready. Casey can't really blame them. Going into potentially dangerous situations, with capes of all things? He'd have a genuinely non-lethal weapon ready to go too.
Before the troopers can say anything, Casey drops to his knees and raises his arms.
Not exactly how I planned on spending my night, he thought to himself. A part of him urgently wished he'd had the chance to experiment with his power, maybe engineer some sort of mover ability to escape if the PRT are less forgiving of a dead ganger cape than he expected.
"Suspect is in custody and cooperative," the trooper announced. He kept the foam sprayer aimed at Casey's body mass, though.
"I sure am," Casey says.
A moment later, Armsmaster walks in. He takes a quick look around the room, pausing firstly on the dead cape, and then on Casey. At a motion, the trooper lowers his foam sprayer and clears out of the room. Armsmaster stares for a long minute and finally speaks.
"Do you want me to remove those cuffs?" he asks. He has a certain gentleness in his voice. Something about it seemed practiced rather than natural, to Casey, but he isn't sure he'd be able to differentiate real from fake anyway. He hadn't always been the best judge of character.
Casey just nods his head in response and Armsmaster slowly approaches. He drops down with a fluidity not expected from the power armor the Tinker wears, and he pulls out some sort of tool from his belt. It's only a second and the cuffs--really more bracelets--fall away.
"You can stand now. Take a seat, even. I want to know what happened here," Armsmaster says.
"Yeah, so, the last thing I remember are the sirens. Then I woke up in that fucker's basement," Casey told the local Protectorate leader. "He had me cuffed, with two other women. They're both passed out last I knew."
At that, Armsmaster presses speaks into his wrist for a minute and two troopers head to the basement.
"Anyway, I realized I was bleeding, but it wasn't blood. My blood weakened the chain of the cuffs enough for me to break it, and then I came up here. I guess... I knew that I needed to get out, that I needed to get help for the other two below. So I..." Casey trailed off.
"You lost control," Armsmaster said. "It happens. No one's going to be sad Skidmark bit it. The whole thing seems like a classic case of self-defense combined with a trigger event. But it can't happen again. If you join the Wards, you can learn to use your powers responsibly."
"I'm an adult," Casey said. "Legally, I mean. I'm just short."
Armsmaster nods at this.
"Well, the Protectorate then. We can help you learn to properly control your powers so something like this doesn't happen again. And you can make a difference, too. You said that you wanted to help the other women downstairs, yeah? Well, you can do that with us. And, while Skidmark's gang wasn't exactly full of heavy hitters, he did have two or three other bottom feeders working with him. And they were expanding, recruiting heavily after Leviathan. I think he wanted to fill the void from the Empire's collapse," Armsmaster continued trying to sell Casey on the Protectorate.
"Wait, the Empire collapsed?" Casey asked. "Like, not that I'm sad to see them go. Nazis don't really like people like me, but it's just shocking."
"Mmm, yes. Kaiser died in the fighting, as did Othala. A lot has changed since Leviathan, we're still seeing how everything shakes out. Another reason to join with us. Lots of new triggers lately, we really need people. You don't have to choose now, just let us know, okay?"
Casey leaves Skidmark's home? Base? Lair? He didn't really know what it was, really, beyond the place he'd woken up. Along the way to his home, he decides to experiment.
He reaches to that place in his mind, that place his power resides. As he touches it, he gets a sense of what his power gained. And he smiles. He can work with this. He gently combines two of the ideas in his head, a sense of speed and of movement into one whole. And he feeds it just the tiniest bit of power--a single mote, he thinks he'll call it.
A switch appears somewhere in his mind, a way to tense his muscles just so in order to activate the power. He starts going more quickly. Not as if he's running. Frankly, the change is small, but ever present. Each step comes faster than the one before it. How long will it take to reach maximum speed? Does it even have a maximum speed? What if he stops?
He pauses in place and then starts again. Whatever speed he accumulated had fallen away, and had to resume again. He added more motes, one by one, to determine the limits of his new power.
It seems like each mote increases the how rapidly his speed builds. The faster he goes the harder it is to stop, the more space he needs to stop. He wonders if, perhaps, the other thing he received from Skidmark would allow him to control this better? But it might just make it worse, too. He can't really know until he tries.
He adds the last portion to the power. Now he finds himself able to maintain a speed, not needing to constantly accelerate. He even needs less room to slow down and stop.
An extremely useful power, Casey decides.
By the time he gets home, night has fallen on the city. His home is the same as ever. A small apartment in a not great part of the city, but well away from Nazi territory. He had started renting it in the last few months, with a small stipend from his parents, just so long as they didn't need to see him. He had been looking for a job the last few weeks, knowing that he would be graduating soon and whatever support he received would be drying up. The several hundred dollars he found at Skidmark's would help him, he knew, but he also needed to make a game plan.
He had a strong power and he wanted to use it. The only question is: how?
[] Lay low for a bit. Killing Skidmark satiated PSYCHOPOMP for a time, so use this time to get a feel for what's happening on the ground, after Leviathan's death. Maybe look into getting that job? Or see about finishing off high school, though with the state of Brockton Bay after Leviathan...
[] Hunt a cape or capes. The only question is which?
-[] Armsmaster mentioned the Merchants, a small-time gang that how grown in prominence sinve Leviathan hit the city. Track down the cape membership and claim them for PSYCHOPOMP.
-[] The local band of neo-Nazis have lost their leader, that doesn't mean Casey can't go after whatever remnants exist. Target them and claim them for PSYCHOPOMP.
-[] Oni-Lee is the only surviving member of the Azn Bad Boys. Oni-Lee hasn't been seen since Bakuda and Lung were actually put away. Track down whatever hole he's hidden himself in, claim him for PSYCHOPOMP.
[] The local Protectorate offered a chance for a ride-along, to see how they operate. Take them up on the offer. Establish contact with the local heroes.
[][POWER] Utilize PSYCHOPOMP to create, modify, or break apart powers.
-[] Add a KEYWORD to [existing power]
-[] Add motes to [existing power]
-[] Break apart [existing power] and reclaim all motes and keywords (requires at least eight hours of rest).
POWER PANEL
CURRENT MOTES 0
Lastly, what should Casey's cape name be?
[][NAME] Write-in.
The very first thing Casey considered was the dead cape's mask. He quickly dismissed the idea. The thing was dirty and stained, not just with the cape's blood but substances he didn't especially want to think about. A quick scan of the living room didn't reveal other possibilities... some grimy looking towels and a throw blanket that could be used in a pinch, he supposed? Moving onto the kitchen ended up pointless. Nothing but junk food and rats.
The bedroom ended up more rewarding. Not only did Casey find a pack of shitty domino masks, presumably for future recruitment into whatever gang "the Merchants" were, but he also found a small stash of money and pills. He left the pills in place, not sure if he actually trusted anything this group sold, but he took several hundred dollars from the stash of cash. He made sure to leave most of it, though. No reason to raise suspicions by leaving a looted house.
Around the time he finished and had the mask firmly in place, Casey saw the flashing of lights outside a window.
Game face time, he thought to himself.
A loud banging comes from the door.
"PRT open up!" shouts an officer. Before Casey even has the chance to open the door, it is burst open by a portable battering ram. A group of armed PRT troopers stomp into the room, foam sprayers at ready. Casey can't really blame them. Going into potentially dangerous situations, with capes of all things? He'd have a genuinely non-lethal weapon ready to go too.
Before the troopers can say anything, Casey drops to his knees and raises his arms.
Not exactly how I planned on spending my night, he thought to himself. A part of him urgently wished he'd had the chance to experiment with his power, maybe engineer some sort of mover ability to escape if the PRT are less forgiving of a dead ganger cape than he expected.
"Suspect is in custody and cooperative," the trooper announced. He kept the foam sprayer aimed at Casey's body mass, though.
"I sure am," Casey says.
A moment later, Armsmaster walks in. He takes a quick look around the room, pausing firstly on the dead cape, and then on Casey. At a motion, the trooper lowers his foam sprayer and clears out of the room. Armsmaster stares for a long minute and finally speaks.
"Do you want me to remove those cuffs?" he asks. He has a certain gentleness in his voice. Something about it seemed practiced rather than natural, to Casey, but he isn't sure he'd be able to differentiate real from fake anyway. He hadn't always been the best judge of character.
Casey just nods his head in response and Armsmaster slowly approaches. He drops down with a fluidity not expected from the power armor the Tinker wears, and he pulls out some sort of tool from his belt. It's only a second and the cuffs--really more bracelets--fall away.
"You can stand now. Take a seat, even. I want to know what happened here," Armsmaster says.
"Yeah, so, the last thing I remember are the sirens. Then I woke up in that fucker's basement," Casey told the local Protectorate leader. "He had me cuffed, with two other women. They're both passed out last I knew."
At that, Armsmaster presses speaks into his wrist for a minute and two troopers head to the basement.
"Anyway, I realized I was bleeding, but it wasn't blood. My blood weakened the chain of the cuffs enough for me to break it, and then I came up here. I guess... I knew that I needed to get out, that I needed to get help for the other two below. So I..." Casey trailed off.
"You lost control," Armsmaster said. "It happens. No one's going to be sad Skidmark bit it. The whole thing seems like a classic case of self-defense combined with a trigger event. But it can't happen again. If you join the Wards, you can learn to use your powers responsibly."
"I'm an adult," Casey said. "Legally, I mean. I'm just short."
Armsmaster nods at this.
"Well, the Protectorate then. We can help you learn to properly control your powers so something like this doesn't happen again. And you can make a difference, too. You said that you wanted to help the other women downstairs, yeah? Well, you can do that with us. And, while Skidmark's gang wasn't exactly full of heavy hitters, he did have two or three other bottom feeders working with him. And they were expanding, recruiting heavily after Leviathan. I think he wanted to fill the void from the Empire's collapse," Armsmaster continued trying to sell Casey on the Protectorate.
"Wait, the Empire collapsed?" Casey asked. "Like, not that I'm sad to see them go. Nazis don't really like people like me, but it's just shocking."
"Mmm, yes. Kaiser died in the fighting, as did Othala. A lot has changed since Leviathan, we're still seeing how everything shakes out. Another reason to join with us. Lots of new triggers lately, we really need people. You don't have to choose now, just let us know, okay?"
Casey leaves Skidmark's home? Base? Lair? He didn't really know what it was, really, beyond the place he'd woken up. Along the way to his home, he decides to experiment.
He reaches to that place in his mind, that place his power resides. As he touches it, he gets a sense of what his power gained. And he smiles. He can work with this. He gently combines two of the ideas in his head, a sense of speed and of movement into one whole. And he feeds it just the tiniest bit of power--a single mote, he thinks he'll call it.
A switch appears somewhere in his mind, a way to tense his muscles just so in order to activate the power. He starts going more quickly. Not as if he's running. Frankly, the change is small, but ever present. Each step comes faster than the one before it. How long will it take to reach maximum speed? Does it even have a maximum speed? What if he stops?
He pauses in place and then starts again. Whatever speed he accumulated had fallen away, and had to resume again. He added more motes, one by one, to determine the limits of his new power.
It seems like each mote increases the how rapidly his speed builds. The faster he goes the harder it is to stop, the more space he needs to stop. He wonders if, perhaps, the other thing he received from Skidmark would allow him to control this better? But it might just make it worse, too. He can't really know until he tries.
He adds the last portion to the power. Now he finds himself able to maintain a speed, not needing to constantly accelerate. He even needs less room to slow down and stop.
An extremely useful power, Casey decides.
By the time he gets home, night has fallen on the city. His home is the same as ever. A small apartment in a not great part of the city, but well away from Nazi territory. He had started renting it in the last few months, with a small stipend from his parents, just so long as they didn't need to see him. He had been looking for a job the last few weeks, knowing that he would be graduating soon and whatever support he received would be drying up. The several hundred dollars he found at Skidmark's would help him, he knew, but he also needed to make a game plan.
He had a strong power and he wanted to use it. The only question is: how?
[] Lay low for a bit. Killing Skidmark satiated PSYCHOPOMP for a time, so use this time to get a feel for what's happening on the ground, after Leviathan's death. Maybe look into getting that job? Or see about finishing off high school, though with the state of Brockton Bay after Leviathan...
[] Hunt a cape or capes. The only question is which?
-[] Armsmaster mentioned the Merchants, a small-time gang that how grown in prominence sinve Leviathan hit the city. Track down the cape membership and claim them for PSYCHOPOMP.
-[] The local band of neo-Nazis have lost their leader, that doesn't mean Casey can't go after whatever remnants exist. Target them and claim them for PSYCHOPOMP.
-[] Oni-Lee is the only surviving member of the Azn Bad Boys. Oni-Lee hasn't been seen since Bakuda and Lung were actually put away. Track down whatever hole he's hidden himself in, claim him for PSYCHOPOMP.
[] The local Protectorate offered a chance for a ride-along, to see how they operate. Take them up on the offer. Establish contact with the local heroes.
[][POWER] Utilize PSYCHOPOMP to create, modify, or break apart powers.
-[] Add a KEYWORD to [existing power]
-[] Add motes to [existing power]
-[] Break apart [existing power] and reclaim all motes and keywords (requires at least eight hours of rest).
POWER PANEL
CURRENT MOTES 0
STRIKER, CRAFT, SHAKER, FIELD,
PSYCHOPOMP (Rank 12)(Trump): Harvest KEYWORDS and motes from dying capes. Use them to create powers. Gain a minor Thinker power to identify capes.
PHOENIX(Rank 5)(Trump/Brute/Changer)(BRUTE, TRUMP, CHANGER, FLESH, REGEN, FIRE, CONTROL) Burn to ash and rise again, stronger than before. Casey regenerates damage taken, the more damage taken the more rapidly they regenerate. As they regenerate, they shade "feathers" of flame, which they have moderate control over. They grow stronger the more times they regenerate, generating virtual "motes" which may improve PHOENIX by up to three ranks. (10 motes)
ACCELERANDO (Rank 4)(Mover)(MOVER, ACCELERATION, INTERTIA) Casey increases in speed the longer he is in constant movement. It seemingly has no limit, but takes time to spool up. Once he reaches a speed, he can maintain it, and needs some space to slow down.
PHOENIX(Rank 5)(Trump/Brute/Changer)(BRUTE, TRUMP, CHANGER, FLESH, REGEN, FIRE, CONTROL) Burn to ash and rise again, stronger than before. Casey regenerates damage taken, the more damage taken the more rapidly they regenerate. As they regenerate, they shade "feathers" of flame, which they have moderate control over. They grow stronger the more times they regenerate, generating virtual "motes" which may improve PHOENIX by up to three ranks. (10 motes)
ACCELERANDO (Rank 4)(Mover)(MOVER, ACCELERATION, INTERTIA) Casey increases in speed the longer he is in constant movement. It seemingly has no limit, but takes time to spool up. Once he reaches a speed, he can maintain it, and needs some space to slow down.
Lastly, what should Casey's cape name be?
[][NAME] Write-in.
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Vote closed
Interlude 1
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Colin finished filing his report. A difficult day, to be sure, especially for the young woman that had finished Skidmark. But overall a good one. One threat--albeit a minor one--dead, a new parahuman of seemingly heroic disposition, and victims found before worse could be done. It definitely went better than his last first contact with a new parahuman.
"Phoenix?" a voice with a slight Newfoundland accent came from a nearby screen.
"Newly triggered parahuman, found her standing over Skidmark's dead body. Good riddance to him," Colin replied.
"That's a rather grandiose name for a new cape," Dragon's voice echoed from the screen.
"Temporary code name. It's just for now, I figure that we'll have a more specific name in the next day or two. We have her tentatively classified as a Brute 3, though that's highly likely to change. Regenerative ability, enhanced strength, and her blood seems to ignite when exposed to atmosphere. It seemed appropriate."
"So she's agreed to a patrol?"
"She just called, but yeah. With Robin and Shawn gone, I figure that I'll put her with Hana and maybe add Missy?"
"Your report does say she reported to be an adult, but it wouldn't be the first time a child lied. So I suppose Missy does make sense. But more importantly, Colin: what was that following Leviathan?"
Dragon's voice sounded almost accusatory to Colin's ears. It was ridiculous, of course. Dragon was a friend. She just wanted to know.
"About Skitter?"
He didn't really want to talk about it.
"Yes, about Skitter. What was that?"
But Dragon had a way of getting him to say things he needed to say.
"Just as I said. I encountered her the night Lung was taken in. She'd managed to incapacitate him, and I offered to take credit. Keep her name out of it, keep her safe, hopefully recruit her to the Wards. The next thing I know, she's trying to sell me on some infiltration of the Undersiders and then robbing a bank. Absolutely insane. I tried to talk her out of it, of course."
Left hidden is more context, he knows, more excuses for his actions, more justifications, and beneath it all, the knowledge of why he had taken the path he had. Hidden even from himself, until he had been forced to confront it.
"You're lucky you aren't suspended, you know? If it weren't for your early alarm system, and the damage you inflicted on Leviathan, you probably would be."
He knew it. The smallest thing different would have led to it. Luckily, the teenage villain had been somewhat cooperative. Still...
"We need all the capes we can get, Dragon. You know that."
A sigh comes from the monitor. The face of the woman on the other end--simulated, Colin knows--looks tired and worried. He feels a stab of guilt in that moment. He quickly suppresses it under the knowledge that he could kill the damn things. He just needed a bit more.
"You aren't wrong, Colin. But that also applies to everyone else. You don't have to do it all alone. You can take a break. If you want, you can even come up to Newfoundland. I... I would be willing to meet you, in person, I think."
Dragon's tone has a pleading element to it. So much so that he almost misses the offer. Dragon never lets people meet her in person. Her power-enforced agoraphobia is too great.
"I... I'll think about it, okay? Maybe once things settle down here. It... I would really like to meet you in person."
Dragon simply lets out a defeated sigh. Colin turns back to his project--analyzing the data from recovered portions of Leviathan, as well as how it interacted with his nanothorns.
He couldn't afford to think of anything else.
Final run-off for cape name! We had a three way tie so those are your choices.
[] Phoenix. Burn brightly, turn to ash, and then burn again. A symbol of rebirth, as Casey enters into his new life.
[] Beacon. Stand out from the crowd, shine brightly. Casey can be good at attracting attention...
[] Protean. Ever-changing, much like Casey's powerset, yet without a connection to death. A fitting name for a Trump.
[] Three people want to incorporate STRIKER into ACCELERANDO. The likely outcome would give the ability to accelerate (and decelerate) objects he has touched. A discount Blaster power. The Mover aspects will be slightly weakened. Make this change?
-[] Yes
-[] No
"Phoenix?" a voice with a slight Newfoundland accent came from a nearby screen.
"Newly triggered parahuman, found her standing over Skidmark's dead body. Good riddance to him," Colin replied.
"That's a rather grandiose name for a new cape," Dragon's voice echoed from the screen.
"Temporary code name. It's just for now, I figure that we'll have a more specific name in the next day or two. We have her tentatively classified as a Brute 3, though that's highly likely to change. Regenerative ability, enhanced strength, and her blood seems to ignite when exposed to atmosphere. It seemed appropriate."
"So she's agreed to a patrol?"
"She just called, but yeah. With Robin and Shawn gone, I figure that I'll put her with Hana and maybe add Missy?"
"Your report does say she reported to be an adult, but it wouldn't be the first time a child lied. So I suppose Missy does make sense. But more importantly, Colin: what was that following Leviathan?"
Dragon's voice sounded almost accusatory to Colin's ears. It was ridiculous, of course. Dragon was a friend. She just wanted to know.
"About Skitter?"
He didn't really want to talk about it.
"Yes, about Skitter. What was that?"
But Dragon had a way of getting him to say things he needed to say.
"Just as I said. I encountered her the night Lung was taken in. She'd managed to incapacitate him, and I offered to take credit. Keep her name out of it, keep her safe, hopefully recruit her to the Wards. The next thing I know, she's trying to sell me on some infiltration of the Undersiders and then robbing a bank. Absolutely insane. I tried to talk her out of it, of course."
Left hidden is more context, he knows, more excuses for his actions, more justifications, and beneath it all, the knowledge of why he had taken the path he had. Hidden even from himself, until he had been forced to confront it.
"You're lucky you aren't suspended, you know? If it weren't for your early alarm system, and the damage you inflicted on Leviathan, you probably would be."
He knew it. The smallest thing different would have led to it. Luckily, the teenage villain had been somewhat cooperative. Still...
"We need all the capes we can get, Dragon. You know that."
A sigh comes from the monitor. The face of the woman on the other end--simulated, Colin knows--looks tired and worried. He feels a stab of guilt in that moment. He quickly suppresses it under the knowledge that he could kill the damn things. He just needed a bit more.
"You aren't wrong, Colin. But that also applies to everyone else. You don't have to do it all alone. You can take a break. If you want, you can even come up to Newfoundland. I... I would be willing to meet you, in person, I think."
Dragon's tone has a pleading element to it. So much so that he almost misses the offer. Dragon never lets people meet her in person. Her power-enforced agoraphobia is too great.
"I... I'll think about it, okay? Maybe once things settle down here. It... I would really like to meet you in person."
Dragon simply lets out a defeated sigh. Colin turns back to his project--analyzing the data from recovered portions of Leviathan, as well as how it interacted with his nanothorns.
He couldn't afford to think of anything else.
Final run-off for cape name! We had a three way tie so those are your choices.
[] Phoenix. Burn brightly, turn to ash, and then burn again. A symbol of rebirth, as Casey enters into his new life.
[] Beacon. Stand out from the crowd, shine brightly. Casey can be good at attracting attention...
[] Protean. Ever-changing, much like Casey's powerset, yet without a connection to death. A fitting name for a Trump.
[] Three people want to incorporate STRIKER into ACCELERANDO. The likely outcome would give the ability to accelerate (and decelerate) objects he has touched. A discount Blaster power. The Mover aspects will be slightly weakened. Make this change?
-[] Yes
-[] No
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