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| YELENA PETROKOVICH |
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| AKA: "CAMELEON" |
Real Name: Yelena Petrokovich
Super
Hero Name: Chameleon
Powers/Abilities: Yelena is a shape shifter with
the ability to psionically shift the formation of her biological cells at will to change her appearance and thereby assume
the form of other humans. She can only take on the shape of other human that are similar in size to her own body proportions.
When she assumes the identity of another, she can also change her voice to be that of the persons as well. Her shifting abilities
can only last for a short period of time (no more than two hours).
While she would rather sneak away from a situation
some how without confrontation, she’s been known to hold her own against some of the toughest adversaries with her training
in martial arts and hand to hand combat.
Personality: Yelena was born the eighth
child to an oppressed farmer and his wife and there is speculation her abilities came about because of exposure to the radiation
leaked from a nuclear disaster. It’s never been proven though as she has never allowed any tests to be performed on
her. As a result of her abilities, she never grew close to anyone outside her family and usually has a brooding or dark personality.
Not that she doesn’t like company, but no one has ever really trusted her because of what she can do or they have asked
her to use her abilities to benefit them personally.
Appearance: Yelena looks
to be a young woman in her mid-twenties. She won’t reveal how old she really is and there is rumor it’s because
she has forgotten herself. Blond hair that falls just past her jaw and green eyes until she shape shifts. During the shape
shifting her eyes take on a yellow color with reptilian like black pupils. The entire process only lasts about 30 seconds.
Wearing normal street clothes, she looks no different than other people except for the blue skin that briefly appears upon
her body just before she assumes the form of another. She has a soft voice with a Slavic accent when she talks.
Real Name: Unknown
Superhero Name: The Bug (or just Bug)
Powers:
Seemingly unlimited strength despite his being only about 150 pounds and 5’ 6” tall, extra tough skin, capable
of stopping small caliber bullets and most bladed weapons as well as heightened senses (all five) and faster than normal reflexes
and reaction times. The Bug also has hair that appears to be dreadlocks, but upon closer inspection they are simply very very
thick strands of segmented hair. When not in battle his hair hangs down his back to about his waist and he ties it back with
whatever he happens to find. Once in battle his hair will act independently of his actions, often protecting him and swirling
and twisting to fight people all around him. He can control his hair as well, but more often than not it is swinging and moving
independent of his control.
Fight style: His ability to move faster than a normal human gives him the advantage of
closing the gap between himself and his enemies rather quickly. He uses no weapons except his body. Typically he will wrap
himself around his victim and squeeze them or bash them into unconsciousness. He has never killed, even in the direst of circumstances
and nobody knows why.
Personality: The Bug is extremely quiet, almost never uttering a single syllable. He understands
everything that is said by his colleagues and he is more than willing to do what the leader of the group asks him to do to
get the job done, and it is a very rare occasion when he leads the way. Simple body language is all he uses to communicate,
but it is almost always clear to the team what is on his mind. The rare times he has talked, a strange and unfamiliar accent
thickly laces his voice.
Appearance: The Bug wears heavy leather boots, typically banged up and scuffed from his fights.
He wears baggy and often lightly soiled jeans rolled thickly at the bottom and simple pocket less tee-shirts. The symbol of
the bug that adorns his shirt is always crudely drawn or painted on to his clothing by himself, there is no real special design
or pattern to his symbol, it changes with his fancy at the time he draws it but it is always recognizable enough to be his
symbol. Besides looking like a rather short human male the bug does have two very distinctive features, his red eyes and his
hair. His eyes are solid red with black pupils and no retina.
| ROBERTPEROVANINI |
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| AKA: "MISTER DIVINE" |
Name: Roberto Perovanini
Hero Alias: Mister Di Vine
Age:
71
Robert, as he likes to be called, immigrated with his parents many years ago. He had never enjoyed any kind of real
education, the inner city streets of a sprawling metropolis were his classrooms. He ended up working at the docks and falling
in love with a girl named Nora. She was very fond of plants, and once they started to live together it was only a matter of
time before their tiny apartment was filled with them. Robert had never been too fond of plants, but he gladly suffered them
because of the smile they put on his love’s face.
One day when Robert got home, he found Nora on the floor of
their apartment, unconscious and apparently sick. He rushed her to the hospital, only to have her die mere hours later of
an unknown illness. After many hours at her side, Robert returned to his apartment. As he entered, the smell, the sight of
the flowers, everything reminded him of what had just been stripped from him, and in an uncontrollable rage, he threw the
plants up against the wall. He ripped what remained apart with his bare hands, caring not for their thorns, and then stomping
on them for good measure.
When he was done with all of them he fell to his knees sobbing, realizing now everything
Nora had left behind had also been destroyed. He crawled towards the remains of her favorite flower and collected the crushed
pieces of a pink Dahlia. He mumbled how sorry he was as tears flowed freely down his face, when he suddenly felt something
moving along his hand. One of the pieces had grown leaves and roots, and as he rubbed the tears from his eyes even a flower
blossomed.
With a strange new power, an incredible control over all plant life, and no one left to keep him in the
city, Robert left. He wandered for answers, but back in those days no one had any. Eventually it brought him across a kindred
spirit, a man who had also gained strange powers. Lyrix was his name, using the power of his voice, he creates sound waves
to both stun people and physically move objects. One thing led to another, and the both of them teamed up to right wrongs.
As
years passed, they had worked for about every government agency known to man and fought evil in every major city. Unfortunately
the world changed, Lyrix was forced to give up crime fighting after several large record companies sued him. His only way
of using his powers is by singing songs, and the judges decided Lyrix was breaking copyright law as he did so. Robert decided
that after as long as he and Lyrix had been in the business their time had come and also retired. Robert settled down, starting
a small flower shop and returned to where it had all begun. Though hiding his powers, his incredible flowers quickly brought
him renown. Now he lives comfortably, while he caters the flowery needs of celebrities.
Mister Di Vine is known for
his heavy Italian accent and his costume which consists of actual living vines. He can make the vines grow quickly in order
to grab or entangle things and make them grow thorns or grow thick in order to protect himself. He also carries a bag with
seeds, which he could drop or throw to let them grow and form obstacles, among other things. Though he has significantly aged
since he last saw any real action, he is in good physical and mental health; he’s just a bit slower and has brittle
bones…
| Jake We-ling |
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| AKA: "THE KID" |
Name: Jake We-ling
Age: 22
Height: 5’ 11”
Weight
190 LBS
General Appearance: Looks to be about 18 or 19 years old wears blue jeans, various T shirts and cross trainers.
His hair is short and stylishly unkempt. He doesn’t seem to have an ounce of fat on him his hair is sun faded brown
and skin is tan from sun but he doesn’t look to have any of the weathering from long exposure.
Mode of transportation:
New York City is known for its mass transit systems and cabs. There aint nowhere you can’t get with a metro pass and
a good pair of shoes.
Background: Jake graduated high school the same year the Riggs act was made into law. He lived
at that time in a small town in Kansas called Ratwood. He was his graduating class and the entire time he went to school all
he could do was think about going to NYU. Not for the education it would give him but for the opportunity to get out of rural
Kansas. Besides who wouldn’t want to go see the big city. He worked his ass off in school and got a scholarship to NYU.
He waved good bye to his mom and dad and moved. That was 5 years ago. He was in his first semester of college and was struggling
to balance work and play. Not to mention the apartment he was in was killing him in rent. He hooked up with a local dealer
and began pedaling weed to make a little extra cash. He had been successful for about a month then one of his clients held
him a gun point and took his stash. That would have sucked a lot except he had been fronted the weed from his supplier. Not
good. After several visits and warnings he was visited by three older gentlemen armed to the teeth looking to collect the
500 bucks he didn’t have.
“You’ve been warned before this aint no warning.” One of the men
screwed on the silencer to his pistol and shot him in the head.
The pain was amazing. Everything went black but the
pain didn’t go away. He woke up two days later with a splitting head ach but no more. The bullet that had lodged in
his head was laying on the floor next to him the blood was every were but he was alive. He didn’t believe what was going
on till he looked in a mirror and discovered not a scratch on him.
Over the next few months he found that cuts closed
almost instantly and through one unfortunate event bones set themselves and healed without a trace in less than an hour. For
a long time knowing very little about the Riggs act he spent a lot of time in the library and on the internet. He decided
not to tell anyone what had happened and besides no one could tell anyway. He dropped out of college and began doing odd jobs,
dangerous jobs for money. Never again did he touch drugs. He was living a good life but people around him would get hurt but
not him. Hurt by the thing that got him killed. It hurt the soul to see the suffering of people. He felt powerless to help
them.
The news chopper filmed the car chase and Jake watched through the window of a appliance store. Those are heroes.
Silently he cursed the Rigs act. A group of old women walked buy gossiping about the fact that babyface had died and that
is probably what brought those heroes back. They can help me or maybe I can help them. I need to find them.
| Gabriel Anchorage |
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| AKA: "SHAMAN" |
Real Name: Gabriel Anchorage
(Anchorage is rumored to be a fake name).
Superhero Name: Shaman.
History: They say that you can't go home again. Typically, this is just a standard-issue
piece of melancholy rhetoric, except if your name happens to be Gabriel Anchorage. Gabriel was born to a typical family in
Brooklyn, a surly overworked father, a homemaker mother, and an annoyance of a booger of a little brother. Gabriel had all
the makings of the quintissential "nice guy." He never got himself into trouble, always did good toward others, and hell,
even did his schoolwork half the time... Okay, maybe more like a quarter of the time, but, hey, homework isn't everything,
now is it?
Anyway, all went as normal in Gabriel's household, save for that one fateful day. His thirteenth birthday, to
be precise. See, on that day, at the dinner table, a most miraculous change took place. As his mother brought out the plate
of roast beef that was going to serve for the nights meal, she stopped short in the doorway. Her mouth formed into a silent
"o" of surprise, and the platter fell from her hands, scattering beef, shards of porcelain and gravy all about. The booger
little brother, who needs no name for the purposes of this story, came in and immediately started to scream. Gabriel, who'd
been sitting calmly at the table, until now, looked around, first, then down at his hands. Then he screamed also. His skin,
which was normally a fair shade to begin with, had gone completely snow white and seemed to give off a light of its own. He
dashed to the window, and in it, saw that his hands weren't the only thing, his entire body had gone that glowing white, the
light visible even through the fibers of his clothes. Oh, and, lets not forget his eyes, which had changed from a standard
brown to a pupil-less, iris-less field of glowing true blue.
All that screaming had alerted the father of their household,
who burst into the dining room and stood, stunned, for the moment, at the change that had befallen his eldest son. Gabriel
turned, ready to try to explain, but, unfortunately, the only sound that came out was a strangled bark as his fathers fist
connected with the point of his chin, sending him into inky blackness.
With as hard as he'd worked in his life, and as
much as he had on his plate already, the patriarch of Gabriel's family wasn't about to live with some sort of freak. So, in
the hazy, intermittent light that shone through the repeated trips to unconsciousness that his father sent him on, Gabriel
managed to pick up a few things. His father throwing him in the backseat of the car and getting into the driver's seat...
His father talking to one of his old pals... Being tossed into a large, empty area filled with crates... The sensation of
flying... And then, cold.
When he finally came to, he found himself in a frigid field of blinding white. He was also alone.
And his shoulder blades hurt like hell. He had a moment to mull over the oddity of that area hurting, even as he squeezed
his eyes shut against the painful whiteness. Those eyes would never be quite the same again. He reached back to feel at his
shoulder blades and screamed again, finding nubbish protrusions growing there. He was about to totally lose it, before a kindly
voice swam up through his blindness.
"Lost, my son?"
Gabriel was stunned
into silence. In fact, it would take weeks for him to say another word. He simply held out his hand, blindly, and it was taken.
The owner of the kindly voice led him a long way through the cold, but, eventually, night fell, and Gabriel was able to open
his eyes. He saw that he'd been led to a Native American village, in the tow of their Chief.
Gabriel lived as the Chief's
guest for quite some time. They were in Alaska, it seemed, and the Chief's name was Jason Redfeather. He was a kind old man,
who knew that Gabriel neither asked for, or could help his predicament. It was Jason and his shamanic teachings that led Gabriel
through the trying times that followed. It seemed that those nubs that were growing from Gabriel's shoulderblades were slowly
but surely growing into feathered wings. It also became clear that his skin was goin to remain that luminescent white, and
that he was able to generate and form that light into whatever he chose, though, too much use of it exhausted him greatly.
Jason taught Gabriel how to apply makeup to cover his skin tone, and how to bind his wings back beneath his clothes. It was
painful, but necessary, he said. This world didn't accept people like Gabriel anymore. This was a world without heroes.
Eventually,
the time came for Gabriel to leave. He couldn't repay Jason and the tribe for what they'd done for him, but, they asked for
nothing in return. So, on a starry night, Gabriel leapt into the air and let his wings take him back East... Back towards
Home...
Powers: Gabriel can generate a malleable form of light from his own
body, which he can shape into beams, orbs or various melee weapons he can use that cause heat and concussive damage. This
"spark" is, in truth, a sort of energy generated by Gabriel himself, and it is a finite, though rechargable source. If he
uses it too much, he will become very fatigued, eventually pass out, and, with too much pushing, could die. He also has feathered
wings growing from his back, which allow him to fly. He can fly at full strength and speed for about twenty minutes, or coast
for nearly an hour, before needing to rest.
Fight style: The best measure of
Gabriel is his sheer size and build. He stands at about 6'5" with a sculpted and naturally muscled frame. Essentially, he
looks like a lean version of the peak physical fitness a human being can achieve.
Personality:
Gabriel is very peaceful in most situations, almost serene. He is quiet, polite and seemingly unflappable. He is one of life's
foremost believers of "do unto others as you would have done to you" and goes through life as an unabashed giver. In short,
he's the guy playing Santa for orphans on Christmas, or giving a homeless guy a hundred bucks for no reason. Basically? He's
your textbook "Good Guy." In contrast, should you find yourself an enemy of Mr.Anchorage, you'd best be prepared to be terrified.
If you should try to hurt anyone he cares for, or an innocent, the fury of the heavens will rain down upon you in a flurry
of feathers, blazing light, and furious roars.
Appearance: Gabriel, as stated
before, is 6'5" and about 230lbs. He has glowing true blue eyes and golden brown hair. In public, Gabriel often wears suits,
which seem to be the best to hide his wings, and every suit he owns always seems perfectly pressed and cleaned, as do his
maintailored shirts. He applies flesh covered makeup to his face and hands to hide the luminescence of his skin. He also wears
a pair of sunglasses at all times, both to shield his light-sensitive eyes, and to hide their glow from others. He carries
around a cane, playing the part of a blind man, so no one asks him to remove the glasses. At night though, he doesn't bother
with the makeup, letting that alabaster skin glow through the darkness, or the glasses, the blue light from his eyes slicing
through the night. He leaves his wings unbound, wearing a blue muscle shirt, black jeans and black boots as his costume as
he soars through the night air in search of people in distress.
| M012293/AE4 |
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| AKA: THOMAS MONDAY |
Name: M012293/AE4
Hero Alias: Arthur Monday
M012293/AE4
was developed in a military-contract between the US military, UK military, and several private companies and Cozy Boys (a
corporation comprised of many different departments, including a weapons development program). This system was supposed to
be the a support weapon for the soldiers in Iraq designed for bomb deposition, support weapon designation, HazMat roles, and
infiltration. The program to develop cost the company an upwards of $17 billion, and was going to make the company so much
more. The US Army, and the other three US military branches (as well as several private militaristic corporations) were eager
to see the M012293/AE4 prototype in action.
But, throughout testing, M012293/AE4 showed many signs of independent thought.
Able to find solutions faster than the less advanced AI, M012293/AE4 could come up with anywhere between four-thousand and
one-million different possibilities and solutions to problems for any given situation within .00123 seconds. M012293/AE4 was
destined for the betterment of society. Arthur Monday, the developer of M012293/AE4's AI core systems, was proud in every
respect.
After several years of further development, M012293/AE4 was proposed finished. The representatives of the
United States and United Kingdom Armed Forces, as well as the private corporations, assembled in the deserts of Nevada, and
watched as M012293/AE4 stepped off of the helicopter, armed with it's two hands. The firearm tests were fantastic: the machine
was able to adjust any mistakes from crosswinds and gravity within a second. Endurance was off the charts, as well as strength.
Its ability to take in sand and live after a direct M40 grenade attack (and not show any signs of structural damage) impressed
the representatives highly. The men and women were ready to sign papers, but only after one test.
The men and women
were afraid it had grown some sense of morals after reports of independent thought were coming through the woodwork. A man
was dragged from the back of a truck and dropped before the machine. Given a handgun, M012293/AE4 was ordered to executed
the man before it. The machine hesitated. It turned to his creator and asked what the man had done.
This hesitation
killed the contract. The representatives were unenthusiastic about the entire program, finding that a "robot of a simpler
mind would benefit the client better." The CB rep apologized for the inconvenience and said that the company would downgrade
the entire system for them.
Back at the lab, the CEOs of Cozy Boy told Monday to delete the system and rework it to
obey every command ever given. Furious, Arthur Monday, demanded that the system be saved and kept; it could benefit mankind
so much moreso than just a militaristic program. When the gave him three days to make a new program, Monday took his creation's
core program and fled to Mexico.
During the three days, M012293/AE4 was given a over-skin and "blood" transfused into
the skin. M012293/AE4 looked like a man, like his creator. He looked like a person, so convincing, that the creator and the
machine were able to walk out of Cozy Boys' development center. But, on the way to Mexico, the scientist was shot and killed
by operatives of Cozy Boys. They tried to kill M012293/AE4, but where made "inoperable" by M012293/AE4's actions.
With
Arthur Monday dead, M012293/AE4 took on his "father's" name, and vowed to stop injustice where there was with non-lethal force.
And, to bring down the murderous Cozy Boys if it meant the destruction of all his systems.
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