Avenger Assembled

This is just material for building a setting so far.

Right now, I'm just looking for writeups of your alternate self. Alternate character backgrounds, if you will.

In the universe next door, On Anti-Earth, Claremont Academy is known simply as "The Academy." (When you say that name in Empire City, everyone knows what you're talking about.) The students there are petty godlings drunk on power, young superhumans taught to believe that they are the natural masters of humanity and that the unfortunate regular people of Empire City and the world are there as their pawns and slaves. (However, the Academy doesn't actually discriminate against well-trained young killers, as seen in their most famous recent graduate Tyranny Syndicate member Black Bowman.) Cruel students are encouraged in their cruelty by their harsh taskmasters, decency and humanity discouraged by positive example and negative punishment. Compassion for the weak is a terrible embarrassment liable to fetch you a beating, or worse, from older 'cadets' or your teachers, most of them minor Syndicate members bitterly jealous of their usually more powerful students. The bold student can retaliate against a particularly brutal teacher, but falling beneath the watchful gaze of the drunken, lecherous Fletcher Beaumont II would be a mistake for even the most powerful student. Disobeying the orders of those higher in the Syndicate is a crime punishable in variously unpleasant ways. The most famous cadet team at the Academy is the Next-Syn, formerly headed by the Black Bowman himself and now commanded by Bolt, the spoiled, vicious son of Captain Thunderbolt himself. Bolt is the son of the head of the Tyranny Syndicate and plans to succeed his father there someday, hopefully after the older Ray Gardner retires. But there are other cadet teams at the Academy, organized by ambitious young students determined that they will be the next generation of masters of the world. The newest of these teams is the Young Imperials, headed by Hex, aka Mark Mason Lucas. A group of murderers, thieves, and outright bastards, the Young Imperials are a team with spectacular ambition and a whole lot to prove. And they don't care who gets in their way. Hex: Mark Lucas is the son of a slave and the grandson of a slave. Oh, that wasn't how they billed themselves. To hear him tell it, Jimmy Lucas had been an early member of the Praetor's gang, a loyal toady and supplicant who'd risen on the coattails of the Golden Age Syndicate into a position of wealth, power, and esteem. A generation later, Rick Lucas had been the Praetor's right-hand man, acting as his eyes and ears all over the world as the Syndicate broke the back of their world's few heroes and assumed near-total behind the scenes control. Rick was no fool, though, and when Captain Thunderbolt assassinated the Praetor and his people took over, Rick unhesitatingly took an oath of allegiance to the new regime. After all, he had a son to take care of: and this one he planned to acknowledge as his own. Mark hated his father. And he hated his grandfather, too, for the spineless, powerless, weak little men they'd been. The more the boy learned about history, growing up and watching his father bow and scrape to Captain Thunderbolt and his goons, the more he grew to hate his family and the weak nothings that they were. His family's power was the power of favored pets and slaves, nothing but a legacy of shame and disgrace. When he started as a student at the Academy, it wasn't as a cadet: he was in training to be a favored servant, a minion and goon like any other non-powered student who hadn't been training in combat his whole life. Fuming in his disgust, Mark worked, a brooding, spiteful boy whose anger finally exploded out onto the scene the day William Polsky's chest caved in. The other cadets had been gathered around and watching as Polsky abused and heckled the janitor-trainee on the steps of the Doom Room, the training yard where prisoners of the Syndicate were put to use as test subjects and targets for various student activities. Polsky wasn't a bad boy, really, but he was determined to win respect from his peers by picking on a much-despised "zip." And so it happened that Mark gathered up all his rage at the ill fortune of the world, focused in on William Polsky, and stopped the boy's heart dead in its tracks. That was something; when Fletcher Beaumont II personally appeared to welcome Mark into the Academy track...well, that was something else. Mark was a "luck vampire" for lack of a better word, a young man able to suck the good fortune from others and use it for his own nefarious purposes. He used his powers to pass a test; a car crashed nearby. He dropped a tank on agents of LIGHT? A school burned down nearby. Still deeply jealous of the spoiled children of power like Bolt who mocked him when he was nothing but a slave, Mark used his charisma and stolen good luck to build a team of his own; a team that would one day let him sit and rule where his father stood and waited, that will one day let him be served where once his grandfather was a servant. He hasn't spoken to his parents since the day his powers manifested. (Hex's costume is identical to Edge's, with the exception that he is red where Edge is yellow and black where Mark is blue.)

Dee-Dee wobbled a little bit, the alarm on her face settling down into controlled calm. Candy did the same, but being calm didn't stop either of the two women from trying to get away from the teenagers chasing them. Just because they weren't upset didn't mean they wanted to get caught and have to explain a lot of awkward details about who'd been planning to sell who as cheap household labor. It did mean they didn't attack as they broke apart and tried to move past Erin and Chris, one on each side.

"ACE DANGER!" Edge lit up as if a switch had been thrown, his eyes huge behind his goggles. Only good luck had kept his exclamation a stage whisper instead of the shout he'd wanted to make. He shook Ace's hand with a huge smile on his face. "Oh, man! It...it's an honor, sir!" He fumbled around on his belt for a moment, coming up with a fabric pen. "May I just say, sir, that I have been a fan ever since I first saw Danger in Africa when I was a kid? You really taught me a lot about why it's important not to exploit people." He offered the pen to Ace. "Will you sign my costume?"

It's good to know that attractive people with viable social lives can work out of their parents' basement. I appreciate the message that this character sends. How would her father feel about her career? (Tech-wise or criminal-wise?)

Wander tells me that she's holding her action till the bad guys go. Breakdown, you're up.

At the news something was actually happening out here in what Edge had thought would be a quiet neighborhood, he felt a frisson of mostly excitement and a little bit of fear. "We haven't seen anything yet," he said as he shot a cautious look around the rooftop. "Breakdown and I have both been keeping an eye out." He stood up, peering around with curiosity on what could be seen of his face. "You just happened to catch us while we were taking a break."

Edge's costume is not actually a costume of any particular Golden Age superhero, but it's certainly retro. And may I just say that he is going to squee when he sees Ace Danger.

Done and done.

Though be careful; too much mortal worship could get you into Pact violations. Unless that's what you're going for. ;)

Avenger is a figure of grim darkness, a gritty street avenger who looks every inch the dangerous vigilante. The people of Freedom City know he's a hero, but he's not necessarily the sort of hero they want to glimpse outside their window in darkest night. He's most famous for his hockey mask, polished bone white and new, with only a few unlucky souls having seen the black ski mask underneath. Of his face and head, nothing is visible save two pitiless blue eyes. He wears black leather clothes underneath, a zipped-up black motorcycle jacket, pants, and battered motorcycle gloves his only uniform. The closest indulgence to traditional stylings he has is a short cape that hangs down his back, barely reaching the small of his back. He is clearly a man of the street, a dark son of the city's darkest impulses, preying on the worst elements of society. (It's basically BS, but that's the look he's going for.) Jack Faretti, by contrast, is every inch the lounging, slightly effete Romantic vampire. With his shoulder-length brown hair, pale skin, fine-boned features, and wide-set eyes, he'd look as perfectly in place in Regency period dress as he does in the casual clubgoer-gear he prefers. He's a pretty man who looks the part of the shallow, jaded sophisticate, occasionally painting his nails black or indulging in the Gothic look. He doesn't look like a vampire; he looks like the kind of man who wishes he was.

Erin, you're up.

"We can handle this," Edge informed Mike confidently. "They're just bad guys." The two boys piled outside after the two supervillians amid the startled exclamations of the crowd, Edge's earlier boast fortunately enough to keep the concertgoers in their seats. Outside, Edge and Mike were just in time to run into the two girls in the alley just as Candy and Dee-Dee encountered Erin and Chris outside. There was a momentary pause as the various groups of young people stared at each other suspiciously, waiting to see who would make the next move.

When Ace's mind resisted her untoward advances yet again, Marionette dropped to the ground with a deeply depressed look on her face. "It's not fair. This was supposed to end with somebody dead." She thought about that for a moment...then suddenly her eyes rolled up in her head. As blood came out her nose, she fell all the way back and hit the floor, a relaxed look on her unconscious face. All around Ace, suddenly he heard the cries and startled exclamations as the residents and staff Marionette had been mentally dominating began to wake up.

A quick consultation with Rachel and Ray revealed that the safest place to transition in Freedom City was probably in Wading Way, one of the quieter areas of the city now that most of the world's trade was being handled through New York rather than the city of Freedom. "There's too much risk of running into families with children in the Fens or Southside," Rachel agreed with her brother, a slightly wistful look on her face. Shaking her head a moment later, she added, almost inaudibly. "I've always thought those places were macabre, anyway. Those poor people..." With that decided, Avenger gave Phantom a slightly suspicious look before volunteering to go first. "Am surprisingly hardy. Would make a viable candidate for first transition and evaluation." Despite the extreme seriousness of the moment, a small part of Jack was actually kind of thrilled right now. I'm going to another dimension! I can't believe I'm going to another dimension! It was just too bad that the only people he could brag to about this were right there with him.

Safely in private, Jack punched the tough wall until his knuckles nearly cracked, the blow reverberating through his arm. He'd put on a good front for Scarab and Dark Star, even when pressed by Scarab's apparent opinion of vampires, but alone now in the living quarters the grief came bubbling out. Go back to normal!?! His life, as he'd known it, was over. If he killed Melinda the next night, as he was fully planning on, if he installed Pitt as leader or took the reigns himself, the happy, easy existence with friends of his own kind was dead. He slumped against the wall, the cold stone against his forehead rapidly chilling his body. "Been dead before." he muttered to himself in Avenger's voice. "Survived that too."

OK, so on the frequency of the drawback issue, it's not that Stesha would lose her hair every three to five adventures, it's that having it happen to her would take three to five adventures to recover from? That seems like a viable way of modifying the drawback, given the confines of PbP, and given how many threads Stesha's in most of the time. As for it not happening yet, well, I've got a PC who's been in place for six months who hasn't had one of his major drawbacks used against him yet (whew! ), and there are others in the same boat. So ideally I'd think you'd be fine there. (OK, I _should_ be hitting Avenger with a flaming cross every couple of adventures, but he still gets the drawback points even though I haven't yet.)

Oh, I think I can guarantee that Fleur's drawbacks will come up in threads I'm running. And everyone else's too. :twisted: Though I did miss Belphegor's last time, I'll have to get him next time... Anyway, the major problem is having Fleur's power loss happen so bad guys know to exploit it. It's not as obvious as waving a cross at Avenger, or grappling Belphegor's wings, but it's still very easily doable. There are a lot of ways Fleur's hair could get lost in the busy life of a superhero. A well-placed Blast of any number of descriptors could burn off her hair; Bee-Keeper (or any other strong baddie) might rip it off in melee next time he's out in the field with her. And that's just by accident, a science-savvy villain who figures out she photosynthizes could make the intuitive leap to do it as well. Perhaps the Green Man, no doubt as part of a larger scheme to steal the powers of plant-manipulating heroes? And once word gets out that it's a weakness of hers, it's something her enemies would work to exploit. Plus, there's always the luck of the vulnerable. Just as Mr. Immortal is the core GLA member who takes the atomic bomb to the face on every mission, so too it's the person who'd be hurt by losing her hair who gets it toasted off. Besides, the advantage of the play-by-post structure is that Electra (and her GMs) can set the drawback's frequency by actually having involuntary hair loss happen to her every three-to-five adventures. In fact, if Fleur gets her hair ripped or burned off in her very next fight, that would explain why she hasn't gotten points for the drawback yet: it hasn't come up yet. makes a mental note for Fleur's next fight with the Bee-Keeper In a world where Avenger got three points for a drawback that hasn't actually come up in play yet (though probably will soon, there just hasn't been a thread where it would realistically happen), I'd think Stesha could get a point or two for a drawback coming up next fight. :)

Edge jumped again when Phantom showed up, but settled down a little bit when Grimalkin showed her face. When he could actually see and hear these two ladies, they weren't so scary. "It's summertime," he replied politely to Grimalkin, "so Breakdown and I don't have any morning classes." He looked Grimalkin up and down, a skeptical look in his eyes. She's like eighteen. Maybe she's just well-preserved. "We're out here because we're superheroes. This is Breakdown," he said, pointing to Eddie, "and my name is Edge." He carefully wrapped up the remaining third of his huge, sloppy sandwich and slipped it into the space in his grapple gun holster, and gave an expectant look to Phantom and Grimalkin.

Only one change I'd suggest making: you should give her Skill Mastery in Disguise rather than Pop Culture, given that she's been in prison for many years and evidently never botched a Disguise check while she was in stir. APPROVE-D

OK, it looks like the only thing you have left is template stuff, then. (i.e, alphabetize your feats, say what your attack focus is in, give how many ranks in Second chance you have, etc.)

What's her professional relationship with more modern thieves like Downtime or Magpie? What superheroes has she been...entangled with over the years?

I like that you've made a viable character out of a broken NPC. The numbers look good to me. APPROVED

Edge looked fairly nonchalant about all the students worried about Mr. Summers' reaction. "It'll be all right, guys." He nodded confidently. "Mr. Summers expects a lot out of me, so I'm going to give him everything I've got." That actually seemed to make sense to Edge, though students with a different relationship with the headmaster might not be so convinced. "Eddie, I'll figure something out as we go. And Psyche..." He turned and winked at her. "Making a difference is cool." "Geckoman, be ready to scoop me up if things get too dramatic." Edge waited patiently for everyone to leave before he signaled to Eddie to put his voice on the speakers. When he spoke, his voice was clear and powerful, ringing out over the stadium as if he'd been practicing his whole life. And he had been, as it happened, to his toys, to his bathroom mirror, to his computer, ever since the day he'd been old enough to understand the heroic legacy of his family. As his voice rang out over the crowd, Mark Lucas truly considered himself the luckiest boy in the world. "People of Freedom City! I hope you don't mind our little interruption, but before you could finish the game we had to take out the trash!" His smile was absolutely gigantic, his joy in this moment patently obvious to everyone around them. "But we've taken care of the bad guys now and once we've got them off the field, America's national past-time and the good people of Freedom City will be safe again." He let out a breath. "We are the heroes. You're safe under our watch."