Ultimate One Universe - Genesis: Sign-Up/OOC Thread

[Eddie Brock]

If it makes you feel any better, Barry won't be in tights for about four or five whole posts...

(What? He's the Flash. He moves fast.)

 

[Bounce]

So much for the best laid plans.

So... the good news is, I finally got my orders. The bad news is, I have to pack up the house and move back to the States ASAP. This means my computer is going into the moving company truck and I'm going to be too up in the air to post regularly.

As such, please remove me from the roster. Once I get settled at my new duty station, time permitting, I'll reapply.

 

[Sentarous]

Given our activity rotation I don't see removing anyone from the roster matters too much, good luck with the move though Bounce and I look forward to whichever when time allows it.

 

[Saved]

Okay, I wrote the sample post. Needless to say, I got into it waaay too much and it's like ... 2-4 posts long. [Pending approval] it'll probably be my first IC post anyway. I'll be posting it shortly.

 

[Saved]

Sample Post (At least 3 Paragraphs with a line of dialogue):

Tales to Astonish: The Wild Pack​

Introduction: Part 1

Space - Planet Accostal

Desolate. Smoke wafts from the alien surface of the planet like a bonfire that's burned itself out. The occasional wind jars the air - pushing the clouds of ash aside to reveal the monuments of war. Buildings of a once great society precariously stand on the grounds of disaster; their broken, mangled frames a warning call of the terror that has befallen the world. In the streets, tattered clothing rests pinned under rubble. Strangely, there are no signs of life, nor mementos of the home species. They are gone.

Three lone strangers pass through the wreckage. They walk in a triangular formation; not for comfort, but for utility. Each of them has their eyes open wide as they survey the area around them. Though they are alert, there is no fear in their hearts. Only one thing consumes their thoughts; their mission.

The field leader, Nathan Winters, codename Cable, walks at the forefront of the group. With each step, the ground beneath him softly quakes. His techno-organic body is heavy with more than just metal.

A small silver box clasped in his fingers blinks red and purple lights as a meter twitches from side to side. A single wire traces from the object to a jack on the curve of his robotic-like bicep. It feeds a signal directly into his head, allowing him to view the device's measurements in the privacy of his mind. The meter spikes and lets loose a whirling whine.

"It's here, alright." His right eye flashes as he scans his peripherals using the infrared wavelength. "No lifeforms yet," he speaks stoically.

"Thanks for the update," the woman behind him speaks. Her tone is as cold as her touch. She is Crystal Frost, code name Killer Frost. She turns to the figure at her side and smirks, "Does Morgan Freeman here have to narrate every time we do this?"

The man turns his head slowly to face her without breaking his stride. Crystal stares at the mask pulled tightly over his face. Half of it is cloaked in black. Even under the fabric, the man's expression is sharp enough to be seen. His face contorts tightly in irritation. His train of thought has been broken and he is none too pleased. His name is Slade - the most ruthless human to ever step foot on alien soil.

"Jeez, alright - alright," she says dismissively. "I guess Mr. Killjoy clocked in, today."
"This might be your sixth job with us, Frost, but you'll get used to Slade's demeanor. He likes to stay focused until we're finished."
"I'm used to Slade. I'm just not used to his fluctuating moods."
"This mission was especially dangerous," Cable explains. "We needed Slade's skills specifically. We can't risk another cocky mistake like we had on Xander."

Killer Frost laughs. Slade turns to her again. "It's not funny," he tells her in an intimidating voice.
"Look, we still apprehended the target. I just didn't expect you to make a 4th of July tribute out of it."
"I didn't."
"Fine; Wade did."
Slade grunts.

"<Personally, I thought it was pretty funny when he detonated the entire floor of that museum to catch the guy,>" a female voice interjects over the group comlink.
"Thank, you. I wish you were down here with me, Domino. I hate it when I get stuck with the geezers."
"Domino, what is your status?" Cable asks, realigning the conversation. He puts his finger to his earpiece.
"<I'm in position,>" she replies. "<By the way, why are we using our radio-links again? Can't you just sync us up on a telepathic channel like usual?>"

"We decided it may be best if we don't share thought-space as frequently. There's a risk that it could hamper our performance."
Slade raises his finger to his ear. "Nathan is covering. I made a special request."
"Nervous we might like your other personalities better than you?"
Slade's voice drops. "You have Nathan and Domino to protect you out here. But up here?" He taps his skull. "It's just you, me, and all of my nightmares."
"I don't know, Wade and I are pretty chill. I think he'd be on my side."

Slade sneers. He turns to Cable and stares in silence for a moment. Cable turns over his shoulder to Killer Frost.

"Crystal, stop antagonizing Slade."
"Why? Big guy can't handle it?"
"No. He just told me telepathically that if I don't make you stop talking he will."
Frost frowns.

"<Ah, our happy little family,>" Neena jests.

The trio make their approach on the cylindrical structure at the city's core. Constructed from the most durable minerals of this world, the Citadel stands alone as the only building not in ruins. Black scuffs made from blaster fire adorn the facade. Though it is intact, the facility still speaks of chaos and war.

Cable surveys the landscape one final time. The group stays quiet as his head moves slowly from left to right before tracing back for a second observation.

"It's inside." The group tightens. "Remember, stay together. Stay alert." They nod in unison and enter through the vacant doorway.

"Jeez, talk about a struggle. They really did a number on this place. The file we were given didn't say much about the relic. This ... Cosmic Control Rod. How powerful does it make the person who has it?"
"Enough," Slade speaks sharply.
"It's near infinite. The exact limits have never been observed by those who lived to tell. The last person to witness it was a member of the Green Lantern Corps.
"Why aren't they handling this, by the way? Isn't this a space police problem?"
"Politics."
"Damn bureaucrats. Even aliens can't efficiently run a governance."
"Galactic statute 2275.4 states the Lantern Corps doesn't have authority out here. That's why we were contracted to handle this."
"Nothing against us, or anything - but if this thing is a threat to the Lantern Corp, why did our employer hire four Earthlings? I mean, I know I'm still new, but from what I've seen on our missions so far, it seems like every alien species eclipses humans ten-fold."

"We're not human." Slade corrects.
"You know what I mean."
"You're still thinking like a Terran," Cable says, lowering his voice so as to maintain a presence of stealth.
"Terran?"
"Galactic slang for Earthlings."

"You're not seeing the bigger picture."
"Why do you always talk in riddles?"
"Every species has it's own advantages and disadvantages," the rogue begins, his voice no longer condescending. "It's small thinking that states one race is inferior based solely on a select set of factors."
"As a meta, you should feel more confident. All the species I've encountered thus far and I have yet to find one that can control temperature with the tact and ferocity you possess."

"I appreciate the compliment, fearless leader, but I don't think that's going to make a Celestial or any of the New Gods' quiver in their boots."
"Force isn't how battles are won."
"So what's the secret?"
Slade's head pivots to make eye contact with the young mercenary. "Cunning."

Cable abruptly stops; he digs his heels into the glossy marble-like floor. He holds his hand up to signal the group to halt and a look of concern overtakes his face.
"What is it?" Frost whispers.
"Slade," he speaks, looking over his shoulder at the armored man. "Drop your rifle to the floor slowly."

Killer Frost quirks her head in confusion. Slade pulls the strap over his head and carefully places his weapon at his feet.

"What's going on?" She whispers urgently.

The shadows around them begin to stir. From the darkness, a hoard of creatures emerge. Their bodies are hard like shells; an organic armor that's encased them since birth. The emerald sheen of their skin glistens in the light. Vibrant cobalt and black uniforms are draped over the plated designs of their torsos. Their attire is representative of a soldier's GI's; an indicator that these creatures are not simply mindless fauna. Their bulbous, amber eyes glow brightly as they stare at the mercenaries with malicious intent.

The group stays steady as the insect-like aliens box them in. The trio arrange themselves in a tight phalanx with their backs touching one another. The alien adversaries click and buzz with conversation. Frost slowly raises her hand as she attempts to retaliate. A soldier slams his foot into the ground as he snaps his jaws by her face - intentionally missing her skin by only centimeters. Frost flinches and drops her hand. She stares at the beasts jagged fangs moist with slime and mucus. Its jowls quiver as a reverberating crackle is released in a wave of hot air.

"So ... did we have a contingency for this or ...?"
Nathan Winters exhales steadily as he calms his body and mind. His voice speaks, but his mouth stays closed like a ventriloquist.

"I am Nathan Winters. I know your race isn't new to communication through telepathy, and seeing as I do not speak your native language, I have opened a mental link between your unit of soldiers and my team. I do this in an attempt to have a peaceful discourse with you. If this is acceptable, please respond."

The insectoids remain quiet for a moment. The thin antennas atop their head flutter and twitch. "We accept-kk-kk," they speak in unison within each of the mercenaries minds. Their voices are high pitched against a faint baritone hum. Subtle variances in their tones differentiate them - a delicate intricacy only a keen mind could differentiate. "Identify yourselves and sssstate your businessss on Accostal."

"We are Terrans. We've come to meet with the Emperor of this world to discuss the return a valuable artifact."
"Terrans. We do not know of this 'Terra'."
"We call it Earth," Frost replies promptly. Cable instantly shoots her an intimidating glance. Frost reads the expression on his face and falls back into silence.
"Eee-arrh-tt. We do not-tt-tk-ck know Eerrtt."

"It's far from this galaxy, I'm afraid."
"You resemble carbon based life," the soldier clicks audibly. "You must work for the Alliance."
"We do not," Cable refutes sternly.

One of the beings rubs the ends of his dominant arms together; the sharp edges of the claw-like pincers make an eerie scrapping noise reminiscent of a knife against a honing steel. It's a cultural act of intimidation; one that Slade recognizes.

One of the soldiers scrutinizes Slade from the crest of his mask to the sole of his boot. "Thisss Terran does not speak-kk-kk."
"He's the strong silent type."
The alien gives a look of confusion. "He does not look-kk-kk strong."
The eye of Slade's mask sharpens as he tacitly grinds his teeth.

"Chk Chkk Chkkk. Terransss... Terrans must have good reason to travel from a far galaxy to Accostal."
"As I said; we're here to speak with Accostal's Emperor about the return of a relic of great power. It is of great importance to us."

"Mmm-Kck-Kcthk-kthck-mmm. If a powerful relic you seek, and we possess such an object, keeping it in our possession would be of great importance to us."
"The relic is not from this dimension. It contains energy mortals cannot safely wield for long without fatal consequence. It is for not only this solar system's safety, but yours as well, that we return it."

"Terran-Nathan Winterssss," a new voice speaks aloud. The Wild Pack is startled - not by the interjection of a new character to the fray, but that the unseen alien shares their native language. His voice echoes throughout the high ceilings of the halls in an ominous fashion. Slade's eyes dart about as he tries to pinpoint the location of the new arrival. "I assure you, no mortal wields that which you seek-kk-kk."

 

[Saved]

Introduction: Part 2

"You speak our language?"
"It is not-tt-tt a complex dialect. I've encountered hundreds similar in construc-kk-kk-tion. You are not so unique."

The soldiers hunch slightly at the sound of the creature's voice. Their wings twitch nervously and their necks bob below the height of their shoulders. Nathan observes the mannerisms of the soldiers and takes note. He continues to maintain a calmness about him. A natural leader, the instinct to stay reserved in the face of danger is a valuable trait he exercises often. His abilities make him the strongest of the Pack; he knows his team looks to him for guidance and direction. He sets the tone; and the tone must be one that is void of emotion until the appropriate time.

"I don't doubt your strength," he calls out audibly. "But you can't let your arrogance blind your rationality."
A rush of wind comes from the rafters followed by a bold quake of the turf beneath their feet. A noise like that of a buzz saw's engine reverberates before precipitously cutting to silence.

Nathan watches intently - the only one of the group who's eyes were able to track the speed of their new acquaintance's movements. He locks his gaze onto the alien and watches as the being approaches with a methodical cadence. His steps are slow and controlled; light on his feet, he make no sound as his fibrous soles contact the smooth floor. He steps into view and his form is at last revealed.

He is slightly taller than his soldiers with broad shoulders that block out the light which shines through the hall windows. His wings are much thicker than the others. Three sets of arms protrude from his torso. He holds the top set folded behind his back; toned muscles run down the length before ending in a mantis-like claw at the fore-arm. In the second set, he holds a long pill shaped object. It blinks softly like the rear of a lightening bug - leaving a faint trail in its wake as it passes. The device in Cable's hand flashes and the meter spins wildly. Nathan's legs flex and his heels dig in.

The creature stops less than two feet from Nathan. His spine becomes erect adding another foot to his height in a display of confidence. He looks down on Nathan - the orange veins in his orbital yellow eyes constrict and the black slits of his pupils dilate. "The rod is not to be under-estimated," Nathan courageously insists.
"Neither am I, Terran-Nathan Winters." The being's voice is deeper than his followers. It follows a similar inflection, but instead of a resonant accent, it resembles the sound of rotating gears consistently grinding against one another. A voice of violence for a being of vicious appearance.

Frost feels a chill run down her back that displaces her poise. "I'm definitely not getting paid enough for this," she mutters.
"You are not the Emperor of Accostal."
"No. I am Zorak; Lord of Accostal - King of the Zorathian race."
"I'm sure your army is a force not to be trifled, but I know you did not lay siege to this world by your own might." He points to the object clasped within the mantis-esque alien's grip. "The Cosmic Control Rod gave you the advantage."

"Yesss. A valuable edge, indeed. This world's resources made the Accostan army strong and swift-tt-tt. My arrogance, as you put-tt it, does not affect-tt-tt my eye-sight. I knew my troops and I would loose in a direct attack-kk-kk. So I employed a different strategy; divide and conquer. We waged war on turf occupied by the affluent and rich - a distraction. Meanwhile, a small squadron assisted me in infiltrating this Citadel and stealing the Rod they've kept hidden for centuries. Once it was in my possession, they were no more of a threat to me than a comet is to a Star."
"Wiped them out. Wiped them out-tt-tt," his drones cackle.

"Seeing as you know what you wield and the power it has, there's no point in beating around the bush. The Cosmic Control Rod is not of this realm. It is from another domain known as the Negative Zone. The physics of that dimension are not compatible with our own. You've been able to control it so far, but I assure you, your luck will run out. Soon. And when it does, it will destroy you."
"Destroy our Lord. Destroy our lord."

The creature raises his first set of appendages and waves his spear-like serrated claw to silence his drones.

"My team and I are not police nor enforcers in the name of justice. We don't work for any Corps or Alliance. If you give us the rod, Lord Zorak, we will leave you and your race's military conquest uninterrupted."
He thinks. The room is quiet. Even his drones hold their noises back in an act of reverence.

"An ultimatum." He states. Though he can speak English, his race's vernacular is void of interrogatory phrases. Questions are something Zorathians do not understand. A culture built on subjugation where questioning is replaced with bold actions and devoted loyalty.
"If you prefer to think of it like that."

Zorak's body suddenly convulses violently as he bursts into laughter. His wings sprawl out and his arms extend to their full width. His size is monstrous to the Earth-born Wild Pack - a full 8 feet tall with a 10 foot wingspan. The spindly character of his anatomy is nullified by the extent of his appendages' reach. His heinous cackle causes his drones to tremble; to her surprise, Frost does too.

"You think-kk you can oppose me. No adversary of Zorak's has rivaled my strength and cunning. Your weapons; concussion based with the ssssmell of combustible elements. Zorak's hide is as strong as the metals of asteroids. I have not encountered Terrans before this day - but you are not different from the soft-fleshy people of Meridian. You even share similarities with the inhabitants of this world. Primitive beings that rely on their tools for strength. Zorak has led his army to military victory for 225 cycles - before the Cosmic Control Rod was ever mine. You stand surrounded by my elite at the door of death and ma-kk-kk-e demands of a god - demands that he surrender the very essence of his god-hood. You called me arrogant, Terran-Nathan Winters. I think-kk-kk YOU are the one who holds himself too highly."

Nathan's forehead wrinkles. "So you don't accept my offer?"
"Not only do I not accept it, I tak-kk-kk-e it as disrespect-tt-tt to my greatness, and receive it as a declaration of war. After I tear you and your friendsss to stringy pieces of pulp, I will seek-kk-kk out your precious Terra. I will wipe out the entire living population and eliminate any trace of your culture's existence. When I am finished, my army - my Hive - will harvest your planet's every resource from crust-tt-tt to core. Feasting on the malleable corpses of your brethren, every Zorathian's mouth will be stained with Terran blood. We will suck-kk-kk every single bone until the last stem of lingering life-force is consumed. That is what Zorak think-kk-kks of your offer."

Nathan sighs heavily as he closes his eyes. His shoulders shrug in disappointed acceptance. "Sorry to hear that. I wanted this to be easy."
Frost's neck nearly snaps as she turns to Cable.

"What?! What are you doing? Make a new deal! How about we forget about the Cosmic Control Rod? We leave you guys to your plundering and we all go home with a pulse, huh?"
"Frost," Slade unexpectedly speaks. Her blood pressure drops at the sound of his voice. "Keep your lips as still as a blizzard's snowfall."

Frost's head tilts with perplexity. She thinks how his words are a contradiction. Snow doesn't fall still-ly during a blizzard - it falls quickly and furiously. Suddenly, Slade's implication clicks in the young mercenary's mind; she understands.

In a disorienting explosion of light and sound, the generators to the citadel lurch to life. As the wireless mainframe boots up, the halogen lights lining the walls blink to a steady, bright shimmer. The commotion frightens the Zorathian drones; they bump into one another in haste as they spread their wings and take to the air.

"What! Zorathians, you skittish fools, attack-kk-kk! Lord Zorak commands it!" One of the drones drops into a dive and directs himself toward Slade. The talons of his lesser limbs thrash in preparation for a clean slash across the mercenary's chest. Just before the drone reaches Slade, a slab of stone recedes to reveal a cannon stowed in the ceiling. The barrel creeks as it spins on its axis and takes aim. A blast of super-heated plasma fires from the tip leaving a magenta hue in its wake. The molten material strikes the drone below on the ventral side of his torso. The force knocks him back into the wall adjacent; he hits the wall hard enough to break off pieces of the smooth, polished rock. Rubble cascades down and bounces off his body. The Zorathian hits the ground with a crackle as his exoskeleton bubbles and leaks; liquefying from the extreme temperature. He lets out a gurgling screech as the teal hue of his hide burns into a radiant shade of translucent silver.

Slade rolls to his left - swiping his rifle as he moves. The trio break formation and take defensive stances. "Frost - absorb the heat from the drone and do your thing."
She smiles maliciously as the tide appears to turn. "With pleasure." Her palms open toward the corpse of the drone. The intense radiant heat from the melting body is siphoned from the air and through the pores of her skin. The active mutated cells of her body transmute the energy; the organic equivalent of a gun being loaded.

As the remaining drones descend from the ceiling, Killer Frost stretches out her hands. A paralyzing chill arises in the hall and the temperature drops nearly thirty degrees in only seconds. Veins of ice protrude from her body while spears of frozen moisture apparate at her fingertips. She swings her arms ferociously to hurl the dense spikes at the attackers. The tips penetrate the Zorathian's armored shell - cutting through their bodies and embedding their bodies into the structures behind them like thumb-tacks through paper.

Slade drops to his knee and raises the scope of his rifle to his visible eye. He pulls back on the trigger with speed that makes Frost wonder if he even took the time to align the shot. Six twitches of his finger in under a second - each shot fired so closely to the one preceding it the gunfire only sounds like a single discharge. Each bullet hits the base of the icicles and travels straight through into the wound to connect with the vulnerable center of the Zorathian anatomy. As the incendiary bullets hit flesh, they ignite to rip the alien enemies into fragmented pieces.

The Wild Pack re-establishes formation behind Nathan; the brave warrior is poised in the same position having not moved an inch. "7.66 seconds," Slade says as he replaces the clip in his rifle. "That's how long it took for your Elites to die."

The group fixates themselves before the merciless Zorak. To their surprise, Zorak is not fearful nor surprised. He is filled with a different emotion; rage.

The turret turns and aims at Zorak's head. Cable motions to it as he says, "Technopathy - the ability to speak to machines. I'd been trying to hack the wireless servers since we entered the Citadel. The Accostal's native language was a little complex and their style of coding is very intricate." He grins proudly. "Talking to you gave me enough time to learn their language, memorize their programming theory, and hack their security system."

Slade takes a stride forward to step in line with Nathan as Killer Frost moves into the open space between them. Slade extends his empty palm to Zorak, "The Cosmic Control Rod, if you wouldn't mind."

Zorak's eyes swivel down to stare at the control rod clasped between his thin fingers. The rod radiates a pulsating, dull glow in a pattern that's almost hypnotizing. The war-lord remains quiet for a significant spell of time. His wings shake in the occasional twitch while his antennas sway back and forth. "Terrans are flesh ... Terrans shouldn't have abilities," he moans under his breath. "I wasn't-tt-tt aware Terra was taught transmutive-energy sorcery."

"Transmuta-what? Psh, listen Hopper, no one taught me how to do that. That's all me. Right down to the smallest strand of DNA. Don't belittle me by claiming I'm magician."
"The rod, Zorak. Now."
"We won't ask again," Slade warns.

Zorak's head raises and his eyes roll around his skull in a grotesque display before locking them with Nathan's. The turret aimed at Zorak purrs as Nathan primes it to fire. "It's over, Zorak. Accept it and you can live."

The corners of Zorak's monstrous jowls pull back in what can only be construed as a twisted smile. His fingers tighten around the rod. Dark orbs absent of definition or illumination flicker as they appear around the rod's outline. "You believe thisss to be my end. I have met what I suspeck-kk-tt-ted to be my end thousands of times before-"

Nathan flinches and triggers the turret; a blast ejects from the weapon and connects with Zorak's back in a direct hit. To Nathan's surprise, the plasma does not harm Zorak. A barrier of cosmic energy vibrates about Zorak's body; the plasma drips down the force field before pooling on the floor at his feet. As it burns through the floor, the smoke rises in a ring of dark whisping gas.

He elevates the rod above his head. The dark orbs fire black bolts of lightening lined with crimson outward. The bursts strike the corpses of his fellow Zorathians. The fallen soldiers creek and pop into animation. Their wounds ooze the dark, cosmic energy in place of blood; their once yellow eyes change to the pallet of a dying star. With a grizzly growl, the insectoid-aliens rip their bodies free from the pinning icicles and lurch toward the Wild Pack.

"Terran trick-kk-kks won't work twice. Zorak possess power beyond space and time! Even death appeases my demandsss."

Slade turns to fire his rifle, but a re-animated Zorathian grabs the barrel and directs the shot into the ground. Moving with the momentum, Slade forces the butt of the gun into the alien's face - breaking the already weakened skin with a loud 'crack.' He releases the rifle with one hand and removes his sword from the sheath at his waist. The clean reflective metal glistens as he swings it in a brutal manner. It's edges are so sharp the blade appears to cut through the air itself. He severs the Zorathian drone's neck from its body and kicks the corpse aside into a heap.

"Cable, engage Zorak. Frost and I will handle the dead."

 

[Saved]

Introduction: Part 3

Killer Frost's hands freeze and become encased in razors of ice. Her toes slide across the ground beneath as her body spins in a circular orbit. She catches two Zorathian zombies with her icy-knives, breaking the surface of their hides. As she chips away deeper and deeper, sparks fly from the force. She absorbs the incident heat and transfers it to her hands - regenerating the icy daggers as fast as they break.

While the two mercenaries take on his elites, Nathan clashes with Zorak. He lunges at the monster but misses just as Zorak leaps back. His wings extend and he takes flight. Flexing the techno-organic muscles in his legs, Nathan propels himself into the air with super-human strength. He catches Zorak off guard as his body crashes into the insectoid's midsection. Zorak's top set of arms sway in a violent retaliation. His sickle-shaped claws batter Cable's shoulders and back - they clang against his metallic muscles, sending sparks into the air after every strike.

"Get off of me!" He shrieks. The war-lord snaps his head and closes his fangs around Cable's organic arm. Like a wounded lion, he roars in a bassy growl as the teeth sink deep into his body. Zorak begins to thrash his neck, tearing the punctures open. Using every ounce of mental fortitude, he ignores the excruciating pain. With his cybernetic arm, he grabs the appendage holding the rod at the base of his hand. His finger clench as tightly as he can make them and Zorak's wrist snaps.

His jaws unhinge from Cable's arm and a deafening scream comes from the base of his throat. Nathan takes advantage of Zorak's momentary lack of concentration and headbutts the monster between it's eyes. Disoriented from the blow, Zorak releases the rod and it falls to the floor below. "YOU FOOL!" Zorak cries. "Terran scum!" His rage gives him a second wind. He swings his claws and lacerates both of Cable's sides just below his chest plate.

His wings flutter with such might that dust is kicked into the air, creating a smokescreen of debris. Zorak pulls his leg close to his body so that his foot can grab the strap around Nathan's chest. His grip closes so that he can hold the mercenary steady. He throws his claws back and unleashes another wave of savage strikes.

On the ground below, Killer Frost slides across a sheet of ice and retrieves the control rod. As she holds it in her hands she can sense the power encased within. "Whoa," the words she is looking for escape her mind. Like holding a mug of fresh boiling water, it begins to singe her palms. She winces in pain as she perpetually generates layers of ice to insulate the relic.

"What are you waiting for?" Slade asks as he approaches from the rear. "Take control of it and swat the bug."
"I... c-can't..." she says as beads of liquid run down her forehead. "It's ... it's like nothing I've ever felt before. I c-can ... barely hold it let alone control it."
Slade snorts in frustration.

"Take it! You're better than I am - you can harness it!"
"No. I can't." He states bluntly. His fingers twittle around the holster on his thigh and he slides a small pistol from the case. He flicks the laser sight on and tries to take aim at the Zorathian as Nathan continues their airborne scuffle.
"Why not?"
"I'm only a super-soldier. My genetics are still human DNA. You and Nathan are mutants; your bodies have the capability to wield cosmic energy. Potentially."
"Well," she strains. "I can tell you confidently t-that ... I-I'm NOT strong enough to do this. I'll contain it, but you have to help Nate."

Slade grinds his canine's in aggravation. "All that power and no determination to go with it."
"Hey, bell bottoms, at least I can admit I have limitations!"
Slade ignore her as he desperately tries to find an opening to shoot. "Dammit. They're too close."
"Where's Domino?"
"Irrelevant. Either we do something or Nathan may never see an Earth sunrise again."

Killer Frost encapsulates the control rod within an egg shaped oval of ice. Using her body as a filter, she absorbs the energy the rod emits and converts it into frozen matter to smother it. The rod begins to calm, but the process taxes Crystal to the brink. She feels the particles of the relic gradually slow from the sub zero temperature but her consciousness wavers as well. A circle of frost surrounds her feet as veins of crystallized liquid streak in a quasi-fractal pattern. Slade exhales and the expiration nearly sublimes. His steamy breath forms a cloud that obscures his vision to make a viable shot.

"S-Slade," Frost says with labored breathing. "You have to do it. You're the best shot in the business; you're not going to miss. Just do it."
Slade hesitates. As he watches Nathan and Zorak spin through the edge of his sight, his hand suddenly begins to shake. The situation is all too familiar to him and a haunting flashback plays in his head.

A little boy appears before him; trapped in the clutches of a masked man. A knife is held to the boy's neck. His lip trembles as tears fall down his cheek. Slade tries to align the sight, but his hand wavers. As his heart rate increases, he hears his own voice tell the boy to close his eyes. The child lets out a whimper before saying the only word that can cripple the deadliest mercenary; "Daddy."

A gun shot echoes loudly. Slade slips back into the present and the flashback fades into the past.

"Do it!" Frost shouts. "DO IT!"
Slade panics and aims the gun hastily. He pulls back on the trigger so hard he nearly breaks it. The bullet pierces the sky as it approaches the two beings locked in combat. The bullet makes contact as it penetrates a body's surface; Nathan's body. Nathan lets out a loud scream as the bullet cuts through him. It narrowly passes his heart before exiting from the opposite side. The bullet carries enough momentum to hit Zorak just below the throat. It erupts in fire upon contact - causing the two figures to separate and fall back before colliding with the floor.

"You shot Nathan!" Frost screams.
Slade lowers his pistol slowly as he watches Zorak and Nathan make impact like a meteor crashing into a planet's crust. "It was my only shot," he explains in a sociopathic demeanor. He holsters the pistol and breaks into a sprint.

Slade approaches Nathan first but runs by him; leaving him behind without a passing glance as he pursues Zorak. He finds a vacant crater when he reaches the location where the warlord fell. Slade's body becomes tense. He draws his sword once more; his fingers coiling around the hilt like a serpent on the trunk of a tree. Cautiously, he inspects the immediate area. He knows the bullet didn't wound the creature just as well as he knows the Zorathian isn't far.

With every passing second, the tension rises. It's never the sound of war that incites panic; its the sound of quiet. He holds the sword in his line of sight. He pauses before he takes another step and rotates the blade so the broad side is parallel to his shoulders. In the reflection he sees Zorak behind him - winding up his sharp, sickled claws. He spins with frightening reflexes in time to block the Zorathian's attack. "Clever."

"You shot through your ally to get to me. That's a new trick-kk-kk."
"Terrans aren't always the most trust-worthy," Slade boasts. Zorak continues to push his claws against the sword and Slade matches his strength; the two become locked in a stalemate.
"Your brazen attitude impresses me. However, you incapacitated your strongest soldier and did little damage to me. Ultimately, a foolish decision." He pushes harder and Slade drops to one knee as he struggles to reciprocate.

Zorak lifts one of his legs and grabs Slade by the throat with his foot. The prickly feelers that line the surface of his body cut through his costume and begin to saw his skin. As he struggles to breathe, his strength dwindles and Zorak forces him closer to the ground.

"The real tragedy is you were a worthy opponent-tt-tt. You all were. I forgot what it was lik-kk-kk-e to engage warriors who could challenge me. Ha-kk-ha-kk-ha-kk-ha-kk-kk. And to think-kk-kk they would hail from a back-water planet."
"We have creatures on our world that looks a lot like you," Slade manages a snicker. His arms burn as the strain starts to tear the very fibers of his muscle. "I crush them under my heel."

Zorak lets out a clicking-hiss of disgust. His claws push down and the sword bends. To Slade's surprise, the metal snaps in an eruption of metallic dust. The force throws him back a few meters. As he looks up, he sees Zorak approaching - the broken pieces of his blade clasped in his hands.

Slade attempts to rush the beast, but Zorak drives the broken blades into each of the mercenary's deltoids. He pushes down with all his might, pinning Slade to the floor with his own sword. "Poetic-kk-kk."

Zorak leaves Slade to struggle and writhe as he moves toward Killer Frost.
"NO!" Slade growls in rage. "FINISH ME!"
Zorak hunches his back as he approaches Frost. Before long, he is towering over her as she lies on her side. Her body is weak - her powers taxed beyond their usefulness. In her arms she holds the relic encased densely in translucent ice.

"Tkk-kk-kk. Hello," his voice laced with viciousness. "The control rod, please."
Killer Frost shakes as she clutches the ball of ice tight.
"Stubborn like your friendsss." He raises his claw and tenses his arm. "Good. I didn't want to hear you beg."

Frost closes her eyes as fear takes her over. As she lies on the snowy ground beneath her, she realizes her fear no longer has control of her. Death has arrived for her today. There is no escape. No way to fight. A calm overtakes her and she opens her eyes to accept her fate. To her surprise, she sees a small red dot dancing on Zorak's chest. As Zorak laughs, she hears the comlink in her ear crackle.

"<Crystal. Do. Not. Move.>"

BANG.

Killer Frost keeps her head down as a swift breeze passes by causing her hair to twirl about. A strange moisture dampens the skin of her neck. Her hand wipes it away before bringing it to her eyes to examine it. A thick, purple ooze stains her finger tips. Instantly, she looks up to see Zorak staggering. A trail of oily liquid drips from a hole in his chest.

"Domino?"

A clamor arises unexpectedly as Slade leaps onto Zorak's back. His shoulders are punctured dangerously and his blood flows from them freely. But Slade can't focus on that. Not now.

Zorak slashes violently as he tries to catch a piece of the mercenary. Slade manages to evade it; his fingers take hold of Zorak's jaws and he pulls them apart - forcibly opening the monster's mouth.

"Domino! Shoot him in the mouth!" Zorak wrestles with spastic movements. His fingers maintain their grip around the alien's fangs. As he struggles, Slade's fingers tear open and bleed. "It's his weak spot! FIRE!"

"<You're a quarter mile away. What if I miss?>"
"I'll survive."

The sound of a round being loaded into the sniper is heard over the comlink. As he leans back and grits his teeth, Slade laughs.

BANG.


The shot echoes across the entire city. Time seems to stand still for the moments that follow. With a thud, Slade hits the ground. Zorak is the next to drop; slamming into the turf with a clatter. The Zorathian's eyes are open wide; the veins bulging in a grotesque pattern around his shriveled pupils.

Slade breathes heavily. As he lies on his back, he stares at the ceiling and rests. Footsteps catch his attention. He blinks to see Nathan standing over him, his arm outstretched while his other puts pressure against the open bullet wound.

"No hard feelings?" Slade asks.
"None." He says with a nod.

Slade grabs his hand and Nathan helps him to his feet.

"<Okay, what's going on down there? Did we get him?>"
"We got him." He turns to Killer Frost who looks up at him with a grateful smile. His eyes survey the Control Rod still clasped in her arms. "And we have the rod."

"<Excellent,>" a new voice speaks over the comlink. <"I'll inform our contractors we have their prize.>"
"Were you listening this entire time?" Frost snaps.
"<Indeed. It was quite a show.>"
"We almost died! All of us!"
"<Don't be so dramatic, Ms. Frost. Return to the drop zone with the Control Rod for extraction, Wild Pack. I think you've earned some R&R when you get back.>"

"This is all a big game to him, isn't it?"
Nathan smirks. "We knew these contracts were suicide missions. That's why we joined The Wild Pack."
"Speak for yourself," Slade says as he picks up the broken pieces of his sword. "I signed up for the money." He slides the two pieces into the sheath.
"And you expect me to believe you couldn't accomplish that goal more easily on Earth?"
"I prefer to earn my victories."

"<I was just trying to get away from mutant-prejudice and mutant-genocide.>" Domino interjects playfully.
"Kinda sad that you have to go 40,000 light years from home to find beings that respect you for being a mutant, isn't it?"
"<Yeah, but even they try to kill you.>"

Nathan chuckles lightly before making his way toward the exit. Slade moves to Frost and helps her to her feet. He takes the frozen control rod from her and carries the weight with ease as the group heads on their way.

"What about you, Nate? Why'd you join the Wild Pack?"

He takes a few seconds to mull over the question. As he ponders, the few memories he still retains flip through his head like a storyboard.

"You know what, Crystal?" He looks over his shoulder to her. She shrugs. "I don't think I'm sure."
"<Cop out.>"
"Yeah, come on, Nate, you don't have any clue?"
"Not really. Maybe that's why I joined. To find out."
"Find what out?"
"That's what I ask every day. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll figure it out."

"<Can I just say that, even from here, the level of masculine brooding is far too high. I'm choking.>"
Killer Frost shakes her head. "Agreed. We need more women on this team."
"<Or Wade.>"
"Yeah, hey Slade, tell Wade to come out for a bit. I want to banter."

Slade stares at Frost with an intensity that stops her in her tracks. "Never mind. Sheesh." She holds her hands up in surrender. Slade looks away and walks by her without giving her another second of attention.

"<Did he do the scary staring thing?>"
"Yeah, he did the stare thing."
"<Hahaha. Classic.>"

**End**​

 

[Morden Man]

Hmm, I'm not sure whether you meet the three paragraphs with a line of dialogue requirement.

 

[Eddie Brock]

​

Ultimate One Universe
Character Application

Character Name: Barry Allen / The Flash

Alignment (Hero, Villain, Walking the Line): Hero

Character Speech Font and Color: Red Trebuchet MS for Barry / Bold Red Trebuchet MS for Flash

Powers and Abilities: Barry is an expert in forensic science and chemistry, though he also possesses some level of aptitude in the other physical sciences as well.

Following the accident which gave him his powers, Barry's body generates a quantum energy field known only as the Speed Force. This seemingly endless source of energy allows Barry to move at superhuman speeds (the limit of which is not known) and perceive the passage of time accordingly. The Speed Force also grants Barry immunity to the effects of friction, as well as affording a certain level of protection against high-speed collisions or impacts. Additionally, Barry's metabolism is supercharged, granting him accelerated healing at the cost of requiring a near constant caloric intake.

Barry's speed allows him to perform numerous amazing feats, including (but not limited to): running on water, running up sheer surfaces, creating a vortex by running (or spinning his arms) in a circle, and vibrating his individual molecules so quickly that he becomes virtually intangible.

Character Origin/Backstory: Barry Allen was born to Henry and Nora Allen in suburban Missouri, just outside of Central City. Growing up, Barry always had an affinity for stories about heroes and the battle between good and evil. His father told him all about Captain America and the Invaders, real life superheroes who fought in WWII before coming home to form the Justice Society of America. Beyond the colored pages of vintage comic books, though, Barry had a hero of his own: his father, Henry, a detective in the Central City Police Department.

One night when Barry was only ten years old, he heard a loud noise coming from inside his house just as he was going to sleep. Shuffling downstairs, the young Barry found the house in shambles: furniture thrown about, papers scattered across the floor, windows shattered. At the center of it all, a sobbing Henry held the lifeless body of his wife, Nora, Barry's mother. Her neck had been snapped. When the police arrived, they took Henry into custody. After a lengthy court proceeding, Henry Allen was judged guilty of murdering his wife.

Barry became a ward of the state, and he was taken in by John and Libby Chambers. The Chambers had a daughter of their own, Jesse, who was five years younger than Barry. Although Barry was quite happy with his new foster family, even slipping into a protective older brother role with Jesse, he could never quite shake the feeling that his father had been wrongly convicted. John Chambers, a mathematician by trade, encouraged Barry to study science, which led to an interest in forensic work. Barry realized that even if he couldn't clear his father's name, he could work to save others from suffering the same fate.

What Makes This Version "Ultimate": Well, obviously with the merging of the universes, there will be changes to Barry's supporting cast - as well as the villains he faces. I'll also be trying to take the best of the various tellings and re-tellings of Barry's story, as well as unifying the grand majority of speedsters from both universes.

What can you bring to the RPG: Damn near eight years of roleplaying experi-- wait a minute, that can't be right. Eight years? Sweet Christmas. Anyway, I think most of you know me by now. I'm always challenging myself to be a better writer/planner/what-have-you, but at the end of the day I just try to have fun with this. And if we get to collaborate together on something, all the better!

Sample Post (provide a short post of at least 3 paragraphs and 1 line of dialogue for your character):

My name is Barry Allen, and I am the fastest man alive.

Sometimes, the best thing about life is how completely unpredictable it can be. Three weeks ago, I was - by all accounts - just an ordinary guy. I rode the bus to work where I performed forensic analysis for the Central City Police Department. A largely unheralded job, outside of a half-dozen wildly inaccurate TV dramas, but that was fine with me. I didn't get into this line of work for the acclaim or the glory. I just wanted to use my talents and passion for science to help people. I like to think that I was even pretty good at it, enough to get hired at my age for a full-time position - though I suppose my father's former connections in the department didn't hurt there.

Anyway, as I was trying to say, outside of visiting a few crime scenes a week, my life was pretty normal by anyone's definition. But I know now how quickly things can change... You see, there was this accident. I don't have time to get into all the details right now, but something changed that night. Something inside me. Someone much smarter than me tells me that my body generates a "quantum energy field." I like to call it the Speed Force. And, well, as I said at the beginning, I'm now the fastest man alive. And when I say that, I'm not talking about running a four minute mile.

More like a four second mile.

Yet somehow, in spite of all that, I still find a way to be running late. Of course, nowadays it's for completely different reasons. It isn't because I overslept my first alarm or because I stood in the shower for twenty-five minutes. It's more because there was a robbery on 5th, then a carjacking across the Van Buren Bridge, then a three-alarm fire in Windsor Heights, then... well, you get the picture. And all of that leads us to the present moment, where--

"Allen! You're late."

"Yes, Director Singh," I acknowledge, "it's just that my--"

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Allen," Director Singh sneers as he continues to walk past me. "The call went out for a double homicide ten minutes ago. How quickly can you get down to the CCU campus?"

I rub the back of my neck. "Uhhh... fairly quickly," I answer evasively.

"Then stop standing around here and do it."

"Right away, sir."I spin on my heel and start making for the door. Just then, James Forrest - our DNA analyst - steps into the station carrying a box of donuts. When he makes eye contact with me, he opens his mouth, but I hold up a hand to stop him. "Can't talk, Forrest..."

"Gotta run."

Sample added.

 

[Carnage27]

Flash and Slade Wilson are APPROVED

 

[Morden Man]

I only just got round to reading all three parts of your epic introductory post, Saved, and I just want to say I thought it was awesome!

Looking forward to more like that.

 

[Saved]

I only just got round to reading all three parts of your epic introductory post, Saved, and I just want to say I thought it was awesome!

Looking forward to more like that.

Thanks my dude! The feedback is much appreciated. I'm gonna try to really channel my inner Grant Morrison for this.

 

[Eddie Brock]

First Flash post is up. I went with third-person for the flashback, but I'll probably be doing first-person (as in my sample) for present day scenes. Hope that isn't terribly jarring.

Also, I hope no one minds me doing a little world-building with the Invaders and that whole history. I tried to keep it pretty bare bones in case anyone wants to play in that world.

 

[Eddie Brock]

Jesus, Morden. And here I was writing Nora Allen's death scene (spoiler alert!) and wondering, "Hmm... am I taking this too far?" Now it looks like she was snuggled to death by kittens compared to your post.

Solid stuff, though. Excited to see where you take it next.

 

[Morden Man]

Thanks! I'd love to promise happiness on the horizon on the Matt but I wouldn't go holding my breath.

FYI despite being comfortable with writing a post wherein someone is beaten to near death and peed on, I rewrote the actual peeing bit about ten times because I really didn't want to write the word "penis" in a post. That's apparently my line.

 

[Carnage27]

So I think it's safe to say everyone is killing it so far in this game.

Now MB just needs to start posting.

 

[Byrd Man]

Ah, it's back to how it used to be.

 

[Misfit]

Hey, MB. I want to play Firestorm and I was writing up an app when I saw Rusch, Stein, and Raymond in your Spidey app. Any chance you'd be willing to let me rework those? You could still use Stein as you are, but it's mostly Raymond that I need.

 

[Eddie Brock]

Seriously, where is that lovable oaf? He's usually at least active OOC. Did someone take him to a goat farm?

 

[Morden Man]

What's an... MB?

 

[Eddie Brock]

A mythical creature that occasionally passes through our plane of existence, leaving a trail of lengthy, well-written posts in his wake.

 

[Misfit]

Master Bruce. You know him as Batman, I forgot. I tweaked my sheet to feature a different scientist than Stein.

Byrd, mind if I use Mr. Sinister? We could share him.

 

[Misfit]

Ultimate One Universe
Character Application

Character Name:

Ronald 'Ronnie' Raymond​

Alignment (Hero, Villain, Walking the Line):

Hero​

Character Speech Font and Color:

As Ronnie, RedOrange Arial. As Firestorm, RedOrange Impact.​

Powers and Abilities:

When he makes physical contact with another person, the pair can create a composite body that is covered with a red, yellow, and white armor, the details vary depending on who the partner is. When combined they become Firestorm. If the partner has superpowers of their own, Firestorm gains an energized version of them for the duration of the combination. When paired with a baseline human, Firestorm can fly, project seemingly unlimited blasts of nuclear radiation, generate heat, and absorb any energy based attacks. By default Ronnie is the 'driver', but he can be overtaken if he submits or if the partner exerts an indomitable will. If Ronnie is unconscious, and someone else attempts to join, he must instead overtake them with his own willpower when he wakes.​

Character Origin/Backstory:

Ronnie Raymond had been an eighteen year old student at Midtown High School. As a Senior, he had been a valuable addition to the football team, often seen with Flash Thompson. He and his social rival, the physically unimpressive but intellectually gifted Jason Rusch, were on a field trip to Star Labs where they met the ingenious pair of collaborators Robert Bruce Banner and Nathaniel Essex. They had previously been working on a project to use the life forces of multiple beings to create a singular nuclear super-man.

At the end of the trip, the class was shown the project's most integral piece, a small tube that contained The Firestorm Matrix. Then a young man dressed in a hooded cape over a set of chain mail rushed in with a sword, he attacked both scientists and swiped it from them. Security rushed in, drawing their weapons and preparing to taze the assailant, but he threw the matrix over to Ronnie who groped for it reflexively, but dropped it. Out of a crack, an invisible plasma flowed into Ronnie. An instant later, the thief had laid the guards out flat, but growled when he saw the broken vial.

A team of guards came to take Ronnie away, indubitably to experiment on him, but the caped fellow grabbed him by the wrist and quickly led him out of the building, evading or defeating guards and eventually slipping through the exits. When they were safe, the stranger explained that he had been trying to steal the Matrix to keep it out of Essex's hands, because Essex was a monster who committed atrocities in the name of science. Briefly explaining the concept of the GLC, he explained that Essex had created several synthetic GL rings for his own sinister purposes, among other things.

The caped informer introduced himself as Anthony Masters, the Taskmaster. Apparently Essex had indirectly hurt some of the only people he cared about. Having intended to use the Firestorm Matrix himself, he got Ronnie to agree to work with him and another girl to bring Essex down. Not quite intending to be a superhero, 'Tony' said that he would cover for Ronnie before taking him by the hand and demonstrating the power of the Matrix. They flew to find Jenny and were formally introduced. Because none of his classmates had actually seen the Matrix enter his body, Ronnie was able to continue going to school. Graduating High School, he moved on to Empire State University with a scholarship based on his incredible ability to play football, a scholarship he only gained because the cream of Midtown's crop, Flash Thompson, had been benched due to an injury when a college scout came by. He finds himself in an intense social rivalry with Jason Rusch, who would be on the football team at Ronnie's side if the coach didn't have such favoritism for Ronnie.​

What Makes This Version "Ultimate":

Aside from the fact that I made it, well, for starters he doesn't have one set of abilities. And he doesn't need a specific second person to become Firestorm. Mister Sinister is set up as the big bad, and Taskmaster is an avenging teenager. Also, I came up with the idea for the synthetic GL rings, which could be great fun.​

What can you bring to the RPG:

Certainly not any contraband (unless someone's buying). But, in more seriousness, a team with a slightly different pitch than anyone else. The group's dynamic should be changing regularly with power struggles and a good ol' fashioned teenage drama with action that would be too expensive for a CW show. Plus, they're primed for any number of team-ups.​

Sample Post (provide a short post of at least 3 paragraphs and 1 line of dialogue for your character):

The Office of Dunder Mifflin

"You might not be having fun. But I'd say," Firestorm raised an arm with a swelling hive of swarming plasma on its end, "this is a BLAST!" As he completed his sentence, a beaming orb of nuclear power lurched away, closing in on Taskmaster. Having anticipated the attack, Tony tumbled out of harm's way. The ball disintegrated the wall behind where Tony had been standing before contact was even made. The blast's arcing tendrils gave a strict warning not to approach.

"Don't kid yourself. No matter how many bad puns you make, you'll never beat me. You're a selfish coward and a sadist." Taskmaster stood upright, watching for another strike. As he saw it, the objective was not to try to fight or even use indirect attacks against Firestorm, he fully acknowledged that he was not stronger than The Nuclear Man. His plan was to play Pop-Goes-The-Weasel until they reached a Deus Ex Machina. "When he wakes up, he's gonna be pissed."

As Tony spoke, Ronnie began to rouse within his own body. Mentally yawning, he silently began to shake the sleep off his own consciousness while his guest kept Firestorm on his toes. Thinking so that he could be heard be his body's guest, he said <You must be ******ed if you think you'll be the first person to kill my friends with my own body. I'll never let you. >

Ronnie's thoughts were disregarded by the guest. Almost as a smart alec response, Firestorm raised both arms and swiped, throwing a pair of slashing radioactive blasts. He kept repeating the process. Rather than speak, Tony dodged and weaved, getting tired from dodging so acutely. The slashes were amazingly precise. Not meant to kill Taskmaster, they were only meant to corner him. Almost like staples, the arcs would hit the wall and their forms would linger, leaving the danger of possible contact as they stuck into the wall. But finally, after Ronnie struggled to gain control of the body, Firestorm dropped to his knees. An unreasonable agony seized the composite pair from behind. But with the loss of focus, came the opportunity Robbie needed to snap control away from the body invader. At that very moment, Ronnie separated the halves of Firestorm. And from behind again, the invader aas struck by none other than Jennifer Hayden.

Smiling, Ronnie said, "I love you."

The Team:
Jade - Jennifer Lynn Hayden: Eighteen years old, Jade had been a high school student who came across a glowing green powder (the shavings of a crushed synthetic Green Lantern ring) in her school yard. A sudden gust of wind forced her to breathe it in and over the next few days her skin and green turned green and she gained the ability to create any variety of green energy constructs as well as take flight. When a man turned up dead, reports were of a glowing green murderer. Naturally, she was suspected, and subsequently arrested. She escaped the local police and has been on the run ever since. When she joins Firestorm, they can create any object (not including organisms).

Taskmaster - Anthony Masters: Nineteen years old, he is the oldest of the group. Unlike the others, he has no visible superpowers. At first glance, one would guess he is the weakest on the group, but that would be a terrible mistake. He grew up homeless, he hardly knew his parents, who abandoned him when he was five years old, but he survived on the harsh streets of New York. He used a knack for improvisation and a photographic memory to gather information, slowly developing an innate ability to emulate the movements of anyone he observes. A few of his fellow urchins were murdered by a genetic experiment made by Essex, for which he holds a grudge. When he joins Firestorm, they can mimic the superpowers of anyone in the vicinity.

 

[Byrd Man]

Byrd, mind if I use Mr. Sinister? We could share him.

I'll PM you what I have with him.

 

[Misfit]

I'll PM you what I have with him.

Gotcha. I'd tell you my ideas, but I've got some good ones this time around, so I won't spoil.