KnightDisciple

Earth-I-War-4 March 1, 1985 (Local Time) 2y 0d 9h 45m 30s Post-Arrival He'd been here two years now. Two years on a world 30 years behind his own on the timeline, locked in a war that should have been done and over 40 years ago. Two years tossed through a portal on an Earth that wasn't right. Two years slowly fitting in with people who were mostly retired where he was from, if they were still alive. Two years knowing that much of Europe was ruled by Emperor Kal-Zed. The Emperor of the Supreme Empire, whose Queen and Princess ruled by his side, and had for 10 years now. At least some of the heroes knew, by this point, where Kal-Zed had come from. Ultima Thule was slowly making itself known to high-level representatives, but was claiming neutrality; their stance was that the actions of 1-3 of its members was not the actions of all of them. Some weren't sure, but no one was going to argue about it. Which suited Corbin fine. Bad enough he was caught up in an out-and-out war.... He closed his eyes, clenching his fists as he sat in a meditative pose on the bed in his sparse room. 'I can't let myself keep dwelling on this. I'm a historian. I know what happened-happens-in a war. As Patton put it, that's the whole point of a war, of what a soldier does. And besides, I'm not going out frying everyone...' He'd dusted some vampires, but after seeing what the infiltration team of vampires had done to a couple families in that English town, he felt much less remorse about that. The werewolves seemed more interested in straight-up fights, which conversely left him feeling minutely more reluctant to take them down. The fact of the matter was, he wasn't just a superhero here. He was a soldier. On this world, those words were almost synonymous. He was still accepting that. 'Because it looks like I'm here for a while. Daedalus is working on it, but it's a side project. And...I'm not sure him and the others are putting their heart in it anyways. I...can't fully blame them. Getting an extra hand in a situation this desperate is no small thing.' Finally he sighed and uncurled himself before quickly changing into sleep clothes and slipping into the bed. It was late anyways, and he had patrol duty tomorrow.

Cobalt Templar just shook his head and pulled the door closed again. "Figures." With that, he was a streak of blue in the air, though after a moment, he seemed to waver and...grow larger? Either way, it was only moments before he'd caught up with the car. At this point, he was hoping someone was calling the cops about this, because he didn't want to try and handle this entirely by himself. At least, not the cleanup. Either way, the cops had been driving less than 60 seconds when huge blue hands reached down and grabbed the underside of the car while a huge blue form hovered right over the roof. Cobalt Templar simply exerted a tiny bit of effort, and suddenly the were airborne, the car's tires spinning uselessly. They then left the road behind and gained a bit of altitude. They dropped back down right over an empty plot of land with mostly-dead grass covering it. They were left hovering just above the ground, the tires still spinning a bit. Cobalt Templar's voice was easily audible in the cab of the car. "Look guys, I'm hoping this is just a misunderstanding, but you really need to chill out. Stop the car, we'll get the local cops in on this, get this sorted out. I'm so very much not in the mood for shenanigans it's not even funny, and I swear if you call me "son", "kiddo", or any other condescending name I'll bite the bullet and tear out the car's engine block."

Right, not sure if we're doing true rounds, but. Corbin will quickly close the door, then turn and take flight. He will keep his Speed of Flame array on Flight, meaning he has Flight 10. He will switch his Holy Fire Control to Giant's Strength. Results of Form: He's going to fly over to the car and pick it up before flying to a park or parking lot or something where bystanders have less chance of getting hurt.

Cobalt Templar gave the patronizing hand a look that might have set it alight all on its own. He then looked at the man with a bit of confusion. "I meant call them on your phone or radio, officer. Give them your badge number. Or heck, just call 911. If you're so concerned about this thing going up, I can go try and contain it until the hazmat teams get here, but I can't just run into the police station and yell "meth lab!"." The blue-clad hero had to remind himself that he only looked 20, maybe 25 at a stretch, even in his costume. So the man talking at him like a little kid didn't realize he was the same age, or nearly so, and had seen many, many terrible things that would cause the officer to soil himself in fear and despair. "And shouldn't this guy get taken to the local lock-up anyways? Look, you know what, just put him in the car and stay there. I'm going to go get this "meth lab" under a dome so even if it blows it won't hurt anyone. Could you please just radio or phone in to 911 and explain the situation?" With that, Cobalt Templar strode across the street and lawn directly toward the garage, intent on opening the door to assess the situation. If there was a giant meth lab there, he'd just slap a dome construct over it for a bit. He just didn't understand why these guys were being so obtuse about this. Maybe the heat was getting to them?

Will Save: 22! Take that, The Man!

Cobalt Templar frowned and glanced at his ring. "Don't worry officer. The ring's under perfect control. The only way anything's catching fire is if I want it to. And I'm not in the business of burning down houses. But if you're so concerned about this supposed lab, why don't you put the call in to the local police? Since you're here already, I'd think they'd appreciate you all being the ones to call them. More official and all that. And if the block's in danger, you should call them ASAP anyway. In fact, if you need help with this guy, I'll hold him while you two call this in." Cobalt Templar started to walk over to the struggle, raising his hands in a placating gesture at the struggling man. "Ease up a bit there, mister. We don't want anyone hurt now. Tell you what, we're going to sit tight here while these fine, upstanding officers of the law call in some help. Maybe we can get a doctor to look at your family, if they're not feeling well? I'm sure we can get this all sorted out. And if you think there's a bigger issue, I'm sure Maverick won't mind us giving him a ring here in a bit. I haven't met him personally, but I've heard good things." Interestingly, he didn't seem to be specifically committing to believing either side yet. He was clearly trying to get everyone calm, but it did seem a bit irresponsible, in his mind, to have him fly over and talk to the cops, instead of a pair of officers making the call in. Irresponsible, or suspicious.

Duty, County, Honor, Desire Cobalt Templar Vignette: Patriotism Kansas City, Missouri, USA, Earth-I-War-4 Morning, July 4, 2003 Twenty years. Corbin Hughes had spent a full twenty years on this Earth. This Earth that was so similar but so achingly different than his home. An Earth where the US was still intact, but some form of the Nazi regime continued. It was all subtly wrong. And every day he saw things that just weren’t quite right; fashions, cars, pieces of everyday technology. Some were more advanced, others less advanced. He’d grown as used to it as he could. He’d also avoided coming anywhere near this part of the country as often as he could. He knew he couldn’t avoid any interference at all with the “timestreamâ€, though since it was an entirely separate dimension anyway, that was sort of a relative thing. He only worked in Freedom City so much because that’s where the Freedom League based itself and met with the Liberty League, the Allies of Freedom, and other such hero groups. There seemed to be more, smaller groups going about, if only to help better respond to the threats facing everyone. The parade he was attending was playing host to Maverick and Thresher, two individuals that in his own world led the Barnstormers. There was talk of a “Midwest Teamâ€, but at this time nothing was solidified yet. Perhaps the thing that had torn at him the most for the last 20 years, at least once a week, was how utterly different the woman he loved was in this world. That difference was what drove his mission to help the Allies gain a definitive edge, so that he would feel no guilt leaving this place for good. For on this world, Quo-Dis was not simply Ultiwoman. She was not simply a beautiful heroine and member of the Champions. She was the daughter of Emperor Kal-Zed and Empress Sa-Ur, Princess of the Supreme Empire, Heir to the Keys of Europe, and someone he’d traded blows with more than once. He wasn’t sure if it was a difference from further back, or her father’s place of continuing power, but she wasn’t the same person. Just the same face. He bitterly took a sip from his soft drink. Part of him had wanted to grab something with more...bite. The Ring would just burn the worst affects away, but for a few glorious seconds, he could lose himself in the colors and jingoism and noise...He shook his head. That wasn’t fair. Not to himself, not to the country, and not to these people. This world had spent the last 40 years teetering on the brink of conquest or annihilation. Every day they knew that at any moment, the Supreme Empire, the Empire of the Rising Sun, or even their “alliesâ€, the Soviet Union, could choose to restart a World War. Darkness would rise and people would die. He’d seen plenty of that over the years. So a chance to forget all of that and celebrate the heritage of your own country, your freedoms, and your fellow countrymen? Yeah, everyone had earned that. He smiled and raised the soda bottle in a toast to Maverick as he passed on the street. The fate-warping hero grinned and seemed to give him a wink (those shades made it hard to tell). They’d had a few chats, talking as equals, despite Maverick looking to have about a decade on Corbin (though they were both rightfully older than they looked). The fast-talking, sharp-shooting, bright-smiling hero had helped Corbin keep perspective and positive attitude. You just couldn’t be sad long around Maverick; Thresher always rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, but even the dark-clad vigilante seemed more relaxed. ‘Maverick’s what this is about. Him and all the guys like him who are confident we’ll win. They don’t even question the victory of Freedom, Justice, and Good over Tyranny and Evil. Doesn’t even enter their mind. Guess the world needs guys like that. I know America does.’ He smiled and waved at a few people in the parade, before carefully easing himself away from the street and the crowd. He drained his drink in a few gulps and tossed the bottle in the trash on his way to an alley no one was paying attention to. Before you knew it, Cobalt Templar was racing through the skies, and finally was several thousand feet above the American heartland. At this point, he’d be showing up on NORAD systems, but they had his signature locked into their systems, so it wouldn’t be a big deal. He gazed out over the Great Plains, never really resting on any one feature. A soft smile spread on his face. ‘This world sucks a lot some days. It’s not my home. But these people are still good people. Worth protecting. This place is worth fighting for. So I’ll keep fighting. And one day, when I face my friends, my family, and the woman I love again, there won’t be a shred of doubt or shame in myself. Because I did the right thing, and fought. For my country. For everyone’s country. Because that’s what heroes do.’ This contemplation done, he gave a quick call to Thresher, since the parade was still going on. He smiled at the response, and began flying almost straight down, a corona of fiery blue energy building up around him. He figured the folks deserved a good fireworks show to finish off the parade, after all.

Cobalt Templar was just getting used to the idea that he was, in fact, in his home dimension. The eerie part was, as bad as some parts of Earth-Milchamah had been, other parts were eerily close to home. Not quite home, but close enough to fool the mind sometimes. He'd only just really gotten his bearings and was about to kick up his speed by a couple of notches when he glanced down and saw the scuffle. He almost wrote it off, but then noticed the county tag on the cars. He frowned under his helmet. "Five minutes back in this dimension and already there's trouble. Figures. Well, it's waited this long, suppose it can wait a few more minutes." With a flare of blue fire, he tore a streak down through the sky before landing in a slightly dramatic crouch just a few feet away from the confrontation. He stood up and calmly walked over. "You officers need any help or anything? I was just passing through and saw your troubles here. Speaking of which...you guys are a bit far from home, aren't you?" His tone was friendly, conversational even. But inside, he was ready to spring into action if this went sour. Probably came from years of dealing with Imperial Assassins coming after him. Come to think of it, he never did send either Emperor that formal apology he'd meant to... 'I guess it's too late for that now. Ah well. Not going to lose sleep over it.'

Tagging this.

False Glories, True Allegiances Fenris Vignette: Patriotism Remote Mountain Castle, Sweden Afternoon, Mid-July 2013 Two more bolts of glowing arcane energy sizzled down the hallway and spattered uselessly off of the dark grey armor of the metal wolf-man stalking down the hall. Fenris gave another eerie electronic snarl and snapped off a quartet of shots from his Particle Projector Cannons, hitting both of the so-called “wizards†in the face and knocking them thoroughly unconscious, ruining their hair and hats in the process. Suddenly, two cylinders clattered to the ground in front of him. He simply shut down his external sensor feeds for a few moments as the flash-bangs ineffectually exploded in front of him. Just as his vision returned, he saw he was ringed by paramilitary men wearing body armor and toting advanced-looking assault rifles. “Oh my. A trap. How terrible.†Then he was behind the man on his left, lifting him above his head and tossing him into two of his fellows with a roar that sounded all too real. A flash of light and rush of air, and he was shredding another man’s weapon and armor while leaving him intact. Bolts of man-made lightning flashed out from his arms, and more of the mercenaries fell. It took less than a minute for the whole group to be disabled. Only one broken bone among them, for that matter. His stalking of the halls continued until he came to a pair of metal double doors. He pushed against them. Locked. “Well, good thing I’ve got a pair of can openers.†His claws extended and arced with electricity before digging in and actually starting to melt the metal of the doors. His suit’s muscles gave off a faint whine as they exerted themselves, before several points in the doors failed simultaneously, and they ripped apart in a sudden crashing sound. Fenris stepped forward, dusting his hands off and looking around. He didn’t expect the warhammer that beaned him right in between the eyes, especially not the force behind it. He staggered back, his arms coming up in a basic defensive stance as his enhanced vision locked on the target. It was a burly redhead with glowing tattoos covering his bare torso and arms, a warhammer with more symbols grasped in his hands. The man’s voice started out sounding like something from a Shakespearean play (in Swedish), but shifted to “average businessman†fairly quickly. “Ha! Truly a fine hit, knave! Yeah, knave, gotta remember that. Anyways. You’re in trouble now, Fenris. Don’t know why you’d name yourself after the wolf that brings about Ragnarok, anyways. No way you match the real one’s power, and I’m just the first. Soon all of us will be running around as Einherjar and Asgardians! Instead of just one or two, we’ll have an entire army!†Fenris snorted and was suddenly behind the man, putting him in a half-nelson hold. “Yeah, sure. An army. You barely know how to hold that thing, you’re just running off of, what, basic enhancement spells? You’re not moving right for someone with real experience, stolen or genuine.†“Hey!†“And as for my name, it’s because I spit in defiance of those who would call upon a pantheon of marauders and drunkards to empower their foolish quest for dominance. Maybe some of the Asgardians aren’t totally bad, but I’m not letting you all do this one way or another. I’ll howl my defiance to my dying breath at all of you.†His other hand grasped the crown of the “warrior’s†head, before electricity surged through him, shorting out several of the runes and sending the man into blissful unconsciousness. Fenris dropped him and picked up the hammer, idly studying it. “Trophy, I suppose.†Casually holding it in one hand, he flashed out of sight for a moment. In a few eye-blinks, he was outside a flimsy wooden door painted with simplistic arcane symbols. He huffed at the sight. “Amateurs. Probably going to end up grafting demons and ice giants to their souls at this rate.†He wasn’t an arcane expert, granted, but with an enhanced brain like his, he knew enough to understand what they were trying to do, why they were terrible at it, and how he could stop it. First he kicked in the door before giving a howl and bellowing out a “greetingâ€. “KNOCK KNOCK, you bunch of backwards dunderheads! Anyone explode into a gibbering pile of flesh from your terrible magic skills yet?†Not yet, but there was a domed shield surrounding a half-dozen men who all looked to be the worst examples of self-important nobles, and another half-dozen chanting men who looked only barely competent at the arcane arts. The dome proved resistant to both PPC fire and his probing claws. One of the nobles got right next to the shield and sneered at him. “Bah. You are too late. The ritual is under way, and in an hour the meldings will begin! Soon all of us shall be joined with the Aesir, and we shall begin anew the proper way of things here in Europe! Nations will fear our names, and the peons of the world shall kneel before their betters. You shall not live that long, though. When I am merged with the All-Father, I shall flay your body and soul. You shall know such unending torment, and my name will be-†“What, written on the stars? Please. You’ll be lucky if you don’t end up merged with a Sloth Demon or something with the way these amateurs are going about things. Nothing here looks good enough to draw one of the actual Asgardian deities down. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get a few Einherjar, but that’s just not the same, is it? Not for a guy like you.†Fenris shook his head and waggled a finger at the indignant older man. “See, the problem is, you guys could do so much with what you’ve got here! Clearly one of you actually understands how to merge magic and technology almost seamlessly. Why aren’t you using that to advance the fields of science? Or become superheroes? Or, hell, sell a bunch of shiny products at exorbitant prices because “magic makes everything better and more expensiveâ€? Anything besides this ridiculous nonsense about ruling the world. You give Swedes, Scandinavians, and Europeans in general a bad name. You think that because you’re nobles, everyone automatically owes you so much. Well, you're wrong. It’s the other way around. You owe others a lot. That’s the way my boss Katasrof sees it, and look where it got him!†“Bah! That mewling pup turned in his father for having the same vision we did! He-†“Is one of the richest, most accomplished inventors and businessmen in the world, and he’s not even 30 yet. He’s on track to shove us forward a century in a decade. Because he believes he has a responsibility to his countrymen, and the world at large. When he was born, he was given wealth, power, prestige, and resources. So instead of just sitting around in them, he used them! Now he commands a virtual empire of commerce and technology! All of you could have piled money and prestige about yourselves in entirely legitimate ways without ever having to borrow power from some other source!†Fenris was clearly agitated as he took several steps back...and started testing the heft of the rune-covered hammer. The noblemen became nervous, but were clearly not willing to leave the safety of the shield. That nervousness was all Fenris needed. His grin was decidedly not a party face. “Thought so. Your grunt dropped this outside. Enjoy!†And the hammer was tossed with all of his artificial might, slamming into the wood-and-metal pole in the center of the ritual. Astonishingly, nothing blew up, though the “arcanists†were blown back and knocked out. The nobles, meanwhile, were left defenseless and powerless. None of their money or prestige would do them good now as Fenris stalked forward, a snarl on his metal lips as he lifted the leader by his fine suit’s lapels. “You’re all a disgrace to your country and your heritage. You grasp for these ideals of glory without understanding why your ancestors raided like they did. It might not have been good, but it was for survival. They’d be men like young Katastrof today. You’re all stuck in the past even as this country moves to the future! You’re so blinded by your lust for power, for your paper mache` dream of a “better world†that you fail to see the world is already better! Sweden’s not perfect, no country is, but she’s still a shining jewel of peace, prosperity, and innovation! You would destroy that, all because you think your blood makes you a better person than the lowly peons! Well, guess what?†He tossed the older man down, ignoring the wince that meant the soon-to-be-stripped-of-title noble had likely bruised a few things. “To be a better person you have to actually do something to be better! Greatness isn’t just how you’re borne, it’s what you do! Your names will be forgotten by history, while “low-born†men and women will surely etch their names and achievements into the foundation stones of the future of the galaxy! You all would hold back this country, this world from her full potential! Those of us with true vision shall be most pleased when the King strips you of your titles and the courts send you to prison! Behold the fruit of your labors!†He pointed to the splintered, burned remains of the pillar, with the twisted wreck of a hammer slowly rusting away. “Ash and ruin! Sweden shall live on, but your false dreams die today! Aha, the police come! I hope you gentlemen like the color grey.†And suddenly a SWAT team poured into the room, the leader nodding at Fenris even as they secured the men on the floor. It was all over. Sweden was safe once more from madmen with delusions of past glories and “noble†futures. Safe because Baron Magnus Vilhelm Katastrof made her safe. Safe because she deserved it. Safe because she had a shining destiny that he would ensure she fulfilled, even if he had to drag her there kicking and screaming.

Anger Versus Hope: What’s Your Legacy? Gabriel Vignette: Patriotism Limerick, Republic of Ireland Evening, Late May 2013 Carson Finbar Keefe was enjoying being home. Oh, sure, it was always a pain to drag a duffle bag along at hypersonic speeds across the Atlantic. But not having to pay airline fees, or more importantly deal with hyper-paranoid airline security, made it all worth it. Besides, the way his powers worked meant it wasn’t an overly rough flight. Though he had made it in costume, just in case... For now, he was talking a walk during sunset after a fine meal put on by his parents; his siblings were all out and about with their lives, so it had been a “modest†meal for “three†(there were leftovers aplenty). With Caron’s metabolism, that was probably for the best. The night air was refreshing, carrying all the scents of what still registered as “home†for him. Despite his years in Freedom City and all the friendships he’d made, there was still a fairly large part of him that thought of Limerick as his True Home. Perhaps one day, with the right circumstances, that would change, but for now, it wasn’t going to. Suddenly, his ears caught the edges of...some kind of rally? Even as he walked closer, he turned his considerable sonic might to better hearing what was going on. What he did hear just made him frown heavily. “-stand it! How many of you can? Oh, sure, they’re not in our streets any more, but they’re still looming over us! They still hold part of our territory! They’re just waiting until they get a chance to cut our legs out from underneath us, or just BUY us all out! Just you wait! You there, how hard is it for you to find work?†The crowd’s reaction was mixed, though the young lady pointed out by the speaker gave a noncommittal answer that the troublemaker took as a resounding affirmative.. “You see! They’re choking the life out of us slowly but surely! Bleeding us dry of jobs and money, all while half the banks taking loans are ENGLISH! They never stopped trying to control us, they just stopped using guns and soldiers for a while! Just a few more years, and they’ll try it again! Are you going to let that happen?†A few of the more gullible or excitable people started chanting “noâ€, and soon much of the crowd was taking up the chant. Until a voice somehow cut through all the noise despite seemingly being no louder than a normal conversation. “That’d be great if it was at all close to the truth.†Almost as one, the crowd whirled to look at Carson, who was standing there with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. Slowly, he walked toward the stage, and the crowd parted like water around him. His presence was capturing their attention more thoroughly than the original speaker’s. He was “cheating†a bit, but a lot of it came from his classical training. And he figured that this didn’t quite count as “cheatingâ€, considering how nasty things might have gotten. He continued to speak in that same conversational tone as he walked. “I mean, sure, things aren’t perfect. When have they ever been? And yeah, in the past, the British weren’t the nicest landlords. But they stepped out. And they’ve honored that, more and more as the years have gone on. As cooler heads prevailed, things got better and better. Now we stand as peers on the international stage. Opportunity grows here. I’ve been working a lot in the United States for a couple years now. And I’ve heard it called “The Land of Opportunityâ€. And you know, they are right. There’s opportunity there, even if it’s not perfect.†He paused, his serious gaze sweeping the crowd that was listening with rapt attention. “But they’re wrong, too. The Yanks have a Land of Opportunity, but so do we! We’re a leading exporter in pharmaceuticals and software! Not just our absolutely delicious food and drink, or our enchanting music and culture, ladies and gentlemen. We’re making and exporting things here that people across the world use! We’re making a difference!†The crowd was smiling and nodding, a few people having laughed at the food, drink, and culture comments. “And way I hear it, we’re starting to make waves in other fields! Science, technology, even the “soft†studies! Ireland’s the home of a lot of great inventors. Not just ones past, but the ones I see before me here today!†One of the instigators growled and piped up. “But the bloody English still control part of our nation! They try to pretty it up, but it’s an invasion, way I see it!†Gabriel gave the man a somber look and shook his head. “Sorry friend, but you’re wrong. It’s unfortunate that our nation’s internal disagreements have brought forth the fruit they have, but the democratic majority in Northern Ireland spoke. We honored their wishes. That’s what civilized, democratic societies do. We upheld not just civilization, but our nation’s honor, when we let them choose their own path.†He paused, giving a thoughtful look. “Perhaps one day, they will make a different choice. That’s for them to decide. I can guarantee you all this, though: Whatever they choose, England, the United Kingdom, will honor it. I know a few English from my time in Freedom City.†He gave an exaggerated stage wink toward the crowd. “They’re mostly tea-chugging stiff-lipped fuddy-duddies, but they’re people just like you or I. They don’t usually throw great parties, but one thing I've found they’re good at is talking and even listening. And they just love it when you get all calm and reasonable with them, too. Now, I like a good friendly row as much as the next guy, but sometimes you have to bottle it up and play nice for your goal. And you know, they've left us alone! Sure, some of them don’t talk very nicely about us. But then, some of us do the same.†He gave the instigators a look. “There’s jerks and saints on both sides. Always keep that in mind. They might be English, but they’re people, too. Besides, the Scots and those crazy Welsh are there to keep them from getting too uppity.†Laughter spread across the crowd. “Anyways! I think there are a few pubs down the street that would appreciate some local business, don’t you? Come on, let’s all go have a bit inside, where there’s light. Old men like me don’t want to strain our eyes too much!†More laughter, and the crowd broke up. But the three men on the stage just glared at everyone as they left. Mostly Carson, but all of them. Of course, they didn't realize that the jovial young man, who was answering questions and cracking jokes with several of the college-aged folks could still hear every word they said, clear as day. If they’d known that, they may have prevented what was to come. As it was, Carson heard exactly where they planned to meet, and what they planned to do that night. And he was resolved that they’d have a bit of an interruption... Later that night, eight somewhat shady-looking fellows were gathered in a slightly run-down barn on the farm property one of them owned. “That stuck up know-it-all who abandoned his home turned the crowd against me! No one called or anything later. We’re not going to get any more support, not for a while.†The others nodded, and one that looked like he was the “brains†spoke. “Just means we move tonight. Maybe make some examples. We start small here, get some momentum, then maybe we can get help from some of those fancy-pants who at least appreciate what we’re trying to do. Then we teach all the “hero†traitors what’s what. The Emerald Knights, and those so-called Archangels.†The burliest member gave a grin that was unbecoming a gentleman. “Yeah, I’d love to teach a lesson to that-†His upcoming slew of racist and sexist remarks was cut off when the entire west side of the barn turned into nothing so much as a cloud of sawdust. Floating in, a halo of light streaming from his shining spear, was the sound-wielding hero Gabriel. He gave the men a smile that promised a disagreement if they didn't behave. “You gentlemen seem to be plotting acts of criminality. Oh, and is that a collection of homemade explosives under your rack of not-likely-registered firearms? Joyous. Good thing I called the police, I’m sure we’ll all get this sorted out. Together. Without you making trouble.†The thug who’d been cut off snarled and rushed Gabriel. The butt end of the hero’s spear flashed into the man’s solar plexus, before a sonic pulse sent along the spear sent him sailing to the other side of the barn. Two more rushed and were dispatched similarly. Gabriel shook his head and looked at the other five. Suddenly, his words carried great and terrible weight as he leveled his gaze at them. “Now, this country’s doing quite well for itself, and doesn't need the likes of you causing this kind of trouble. You’d just hurt things. Maybe there is injustice, but fear and death aren't how you fight them, especially not when you sow those seeds among the same people who already have injustice heaped upon them. That’s not how you fight these things in today’s world.†Somehow, they just crumpled in despair under those words. They didn't fully agree, but something about what he’d said just drove them into a dark pit of depression. When the police arrived about five minutes later, Gabriel was standing in the same spot looking over the hoodlums. He gave a smile and a nod as the officers moved in. “They should all be easy enough to get moving, gentlemen, though those three might have headaches when they wake up. Such a pity, that. I tried to not do any more damage to the property than necessary, but sometimes a dramatic entrance is just what you need to take the fight out of them.†The office in charge smiled as he stepped up and shook Gabriel’s hand. “No problem, Mister Gabriel. You stopped them before they could do anything other than hold a rally or some such. Way I see it, a bit of barn damage isn't much next to that. At least this sort of thing isn’t, well...†Gabriel gave a gentle smile. “Average? Everyday? You’re right. That’s because Ireland’s a good country with good people. None of us are perfect, but enough people stood up and said “enough†that that isn't how we live our lives any more. I heard about the speech the local gentleman gave, and he was right. Ireland’s got plenty of Opportunity. And it’s thanks to heroes like you and your fellows that it does. Take care, officer.†“You as well, Mister Gabriel.†With a rustle of fabric, Gabriel was airborne. He stopped about a thousand feet up, his gaze taking in all the surrounding countryside. He couldn’t help but grin. If home was where the heart was, perhaps he was starting to feel at home in two places. Who said he had to pick just one or the other, right?

Fenris gave a quiet human-ish growl in agreement. "Not exactly a church-man myself, but it's...not just wrong, almost feels like a violation. Deception, and on top of that, using charity as a sort of human shield." His metallic mouth curled in a smile that might quail lesser men and women. He nodded at her next comments. "Just a...tickle, I guess...to my brain, but I don't like it either. I've got your back." There wasn't much of a sound, but the PPCs on his forearms were glowing slightly, meaning they were likely ready to spit man-made lightning at any moment as they headed downstairs.

Gabriel turned as the tunnel between realms closed...And gave the Queen a cheeky grin and cheesy finger wave. After the rift was gone, he banished his spear to its subtle form and turned to comfort the nearby people for a moment. When Harrier mentioned the League assisting, he turned to the others. "Yeah, hang on, let me get my phone out. They've almost got a communicator rigged up for me that won't shatter when I go supersonic...Anyways, I think Captain Thunder and Johnny Rocket are on duty at the moment. Thunder should be able to help coordinate, and Rocket can get here ASAP." Hard to remember the showy sound-wielder was an Auxiliary member of the League sometimes. He quickly dialed in to the Lighthouse. "Captain? Yes, it's Gabriel. No, not a disaster proper. Myself and the heroes Cannonade, Caradoc, and Wail just retrieved a large number of hostages from...well, we can hash it out in the debrief, but I'm going to say it was one of the Avalons attached to Earth. Anyways. We punched some faeries in the face and brought our people back, but we need some hands and feet on the ground over here. No telling if everyone's from Freedom City, or if the net was cast wider. Oh, and is Lieutenant Sokolova on-duty? Excellent, we've got a bunch of minor wounds, and a few major ones. Her and her medics would help a lot. Johnny can probably help start getting folks pointed in the right direction while we get some more boots on the ground."

Ecalsneerg'd And what should be Gabriel's final edit (current active sheet '?do=embed' frameborder='0' data-embedContent>>). I had 12 PP to spend. -1PP upped Equipment by 1. This is being used to increase the size of the Monastery by 2 to Colossal (it's expanded recently, to better fit the reference photo, and to represent more people, materials, etc being there to help the ever-increasing population), giving it Communications (which makes sense on this world!), a Laboratory (both for a couple of science-types, and spaces for teaching science classes), and a Workshop (trade skill classrooms, repair space for the more complicated equipment, etc.). -3PP went into his FL Communicator. The range isn't great, but since I can't buy fractional devices and I had other things I wanted, so it goes. Also, another 5 full PP would feel kind of extraneous... EDIT: So, I re-jiggered the way things are set up. The spoiler section and Final Draft post have been edited, and I'll try to clearly explain the changes below. -3PP upped Equipment by 3. This is being used to increase the size of the Monastery by 2 to Colossal (it's expanded recently, to better fit the reference photo, and to represent more people, materials, etc being there to help the ever-increasing population), giving it Communications (which makes sense on this world!), Computers (nothing says the monks can't be high-tech!), making the Library Masterwork (even more books!), a Masterwork Laboratory (both for a couple of science-types, and spaces for teaching science classes), and a Masterwork Workshop (trade skill classrooms, repair space for the more complicated equipment, etc.). As well, the rest of the EP went into a FL Communicator, with a 5-mile range and a Commlink to the FL HQ. -6PP went into skills. Specifically, 3 Performs bought up to rank 8 apiece. Dance and Singing to round out his acting skills, and Oratory because he keeps getting practice at speechifying! -2PP went into finally getting All-Out Attack and Power Attack, for a couple extra combat options. -1PP raised Will save by 1, for a total save bonus of +14. EDIT 2: (This tweak drops the Perform Dance ranks by request of Thevshi, and adds 2 PP into his other saves.) -3PP upped Equipment by 3. This is being used to increase the size of the Monastery by 2 to Colossal (it's expanded recently, to better fit the reference photo, and to represent more people, materials, etc being there to help the ever-increasing population), giving it Communications (which makes sense on this world!), Computers (nothing says the monks can't be high-tech!), making the Library Masterwork (even more books!), a Masterwork Laboratory (both for a couple of science-types, and spaces for teaching science classes), and a Masterwork Workshop (trade skill classrooms, repair space for the more complicated equipment, etc.). As well, the rest of the EP went into a FL Communicator, with a 5-mile range and a Commlink to the FL HQ. -4PP went into skills. Specifically, 2 Performs bought up to rank 8 apiece. Singing to round out his acting skills, and Oratory because he keeps getting practice at speechifying! -2PP went into finally getting All-Out Attack and Power Attack, for a couple extra combat options. -1PP raised Will save by 1, for a total save bonus of +14. 1PP to rais Reflex by 1 to 11, and 1 PP to raise Fortitude by 1 to 11. That averages out to exactly 12, which hits his PL Cap on the dot! Final draft is below in spoiler, as well as in this >link.

Gabriel In Character Powers & Abilities Incredible powers aside, Carson Finbar Keefe is a knowledgeable, reasonably attractive young man with a flair for drama and people skills. Beyond that, he is able to hold his own in a mundane fist fight, though he lacks the sheer strength, or special skills, to do more than throw punches and kicks seemingly at random. However, with his astounding ability to manipulate sound waves, Gabriel becomes a force to be reckoned with. His ability to amaze, distract, befuddle, and demoralize his opponents is almost doubled. People pay attention when Gabriel speaks up. In truth, what's happening is his body constantly sending out unnoticeable sound waves at an incredibly high pitch, such that even dogs and other animals cannot truly "hear" them. Instead, it's as if Gabriel's very being is suffused with the soothing presence of a white noise machine, without people even realizing he is doing this. However, if Gabriel is trying to intimidate someone, often they will begin to feel on edge, as if fingers are scraping over a chalkboard, a wolf is howling somewhere in the distance, and/or a blade is being slowly, menacingly sharpened right next to their ear. All of this is subconscious, as they don't register these sound waves; instead, their minds process it into the background of what they're experiencing. As well, he can utilize sound waves on the extreme ends of the scales to propel himself through the air; the alternating high and low frequency bursts compress the air around him, turning him into, essentially, a human rocket. His body automatically creates a cone of compressed sound waves in front of him after he achieves a certain speed, allowing him to break the sound barrier with ease, and ultimately achieve speeds of approximately 50,000 miles per hour. Gabriel's mastery of sound is so thorough that he can whisper through the air across great distances. If he so chose, he could talk to every person in Freedom City as if they were standing next to him. Or, he could whisper to someone across the room without anyone else detecting his words. And through it all, he can hear them just as clearly, and understand (and be understood) in any language. The "meat" of his power, however, lies in his ability to, in some way or another, make his opponent's life difficult even without knocking them out. -By generating sudden loud, random noises at point-blank range to his opponent's ears, he can render them deafened for a short time. -By generating intensely focused sub-sonic and ultra-sonic waves, in a modified version of his intensified natural charm, he is able to instill various emotions in people. Calm, fear, anger, and other such intense emotions; all of them can be generated with a thought and a gesture by Gabriel. He's only used it to calm angry people, or to induce utter terror a couple of times when other methods failed. He dislikes using this power, when all is said and done. -He can intensify his "sonic charm" such that his speeches could inspire the most morale-deprived army to incredible heights, or talk down even the most fanatical of criminals. -Gabriel can assault someone's inner ear with random sub-sonic pulses to leave them utterly disoriented and confused. -With a mere touch, Gabriel can slam someone's body with waves of low-frequency sound, what some might call "brown notes" or "brown noise", leaving them feeling intensely sickened. -Alternatively, Gabriel's sonic assault can permeate their nervous system, especially their brain, leaving them unable to move as their brain tries to sort through the random "junk signals" it's getting. With a little extra time and concentration, he's able to do this at some measure of range, though it still only affects a single target. -His control over sound and vibration is enough he can assault the physical fortitude of a target, rendering it ever more vulnerable as his effort intensifies. -Finally, and most directly, Gabriel is able to compress and focus sound waves into blasts that hammer at his foes harder than any physical blow. Equipment His outfit, once reminding others of a heroic priest-figure, now seems more like a warrior-priest. Loose white pants, rugged gray leather boots, a gray cloth belt, and a baggy white shirt form the base of his outfit. Covering everything but his mouth and lower nose is a white mask pulled over his head. Over his chest is a sculpted breastplate; at a glance it looks almost like silver, but its obvious strength and lack of corrosion bely that. His hands have fingerless gloves that seem to have an inner layer of cloth or leather, but an outer layer of fine chainmail (of a material similar to his breastplate); over his forearms are smooth vambraces of the same otherworldly material. His lower legs bear smooth greaves of the same holy metal as the rest of him. And over his head is an open-faced helmet of that polished silver-steel. Most amazingly, the metal seems to actually flex with him when he moves, which seems to make it extraordinarily comfortable to wear. Finally, a predominately white leather duster sits on top of everything else, with a black trim bearing intricate gold patterns consisting of Celtic knots and crosses. The most amazing part of this outfit is its ability to, in a flash of light, exchange itself for his normal outfit (though leaving the, ah, bottom-most layer intact) from its hiding place as an elegantly simply silvered wristwatch. Just as noticeable as his armor is Gabriel's new weapon. Where before he relied solely on his sonic powers, he now has a shining spear to help surprise unsuspecting opponents, or those who display unusual resistance to his favored powers. The spear itself is exactly as long as Gabriel is tall (6'), with 10 inches being the the leaf-shaped blade; said blade has a smooth curve, and flares out to 4 inches wide before narrowing down again. The whole weapon seems made of silver, yet notably stronger than said metal has any right to be. The spear has incredible power within itself, shining out when Gabriel wishes it. Just as incredible is its ability to turn into into a great shining silver trumpet, or its ability to turn into a simple silver ring on his right hand (so that it's available when he wants it without being obvious). All in all, Gabriel looks the part of the guardian angel so many already think of him as. Description Tall and fairly thin, Carson is nonetheless a comparatively unremarkable figure in his civilian guise. Often electing to wear jeans and a plain polo shirt, Carson manages to strike a balance between "comfortable" and "professional" that many people find baffling. He almost always has an easy smile on his face. Gabriel is a bit sterner figure, but still one that tends to put innocents at ease when they meet him. The armor he wears shines like a knight's, and the reassuring smile almost always on his face makes him seem less threatening than one might think. Biography Early History Carson Finbar Keefe was born on the Emerald Isle, that ancient land known as Ireland. Raised on the outskirts of Limerick, he grew up in a large, loving Catholic family. His father and paternal grandfather own and operate a pub, The Falcon and Cent. His mother and paternal grandmother both helped raise the kids, seeing as his paternal grandparents lived in a small cottage just down the road from his parents' house. His maternal grandparents were present almost as frequently, often coming over for big family dinners and get-togethers on the weekends. They lived and worked in Dublin, his Grandpa Colin being a board member in a mid-sized business in the city. Thus it was that the Keefe family never had to live hand to mouth. They have never been rich, but they had what they needed, and that was good enough. Besides, family weekends were always fun! As he grew older, Carson started experiencing a sense of dissatisfaction. At first, he couldn't even pin his finger on it. His mother could tell something was often bothering her middle son, but she couldn't tell what it was. It wasn't until Carson was in high school that he began to grasp the meaning of this sense of discontent. Like many others, he saw a world that felt so flawed, with so many people wandering around with little hope. But Carson wasn't a superhero. He wasn't even a normal genius; his grades were merely on the high end of average. No, his real talent lay in acting; from the tender age of 6, he'd often been the leading man in any plays his school put on. The fact that he could sing as well as he could act helped during the Christmas plays, for sure. But how to fit his love of acting with this sense of, dare he say it, holy discontent? Then he thought of the drama teacher at his school. Miss O'Brian, a kindly lady in her late 50's. Not only did she struggle to make sure kids like him had a chance to express themselves, she often helped serve as a mentor or a tutor. Suddenly, he had a sense of certainty. He'd be a teacher like her! Well, maybe eventually be a real actor, too. Like Peter O'Toole, or Liam Neeson! That would be really nifty... So it was that Carson redoubled his focus on the fine art of theater performance. His parents were touched by the drive and focus he displayed. Once they sat down and talked with him, and he confirmed that his desire was genuine, they got behind him 100%. But Carson took things even more seriously. Several times a week, he would kneel down before going to sleep, and fervently pray that the Lord would grant him the strength to help the unfortunate, the influence to change lives, and the skill to help those who needed it. He prayed for success in his studies, and more generally for the strength and guidance to accomplish this task. Of course, it was only a couple of years later that something more incredible happened to Carson. Origin of a Hero Three nights after he turns 17, Carson was on a walk in the nearby park, enjoying the early evening weather and view. Suddenly, a brilliant light blinded him, causing him to stumble backwards. As his vision started to clear, he heard a voice. "Fear not, Carson Finbar Keefe. My visit to you is one of greatest import, for you have a great destiny ahead of you. Your prayers have been heard. Now, they shall be answered, in a way more wonderful than you could have dreamed." When he could see more clearly, there before him stood an angel! Flowing robes, glowing hair and eyes, white wings, and...a trumpet? Carson quickly crossed himself and muttered a short prayer. "Why...why have you come to me? And which angel are you?" Then his courage took some root, and he straightened a bit as he clutched his rosary. "How do I know you're truly an angel, and not working for the Enemy? He can disguise himself, can't he?" The angel slowly walked forward, stopping right in front of Carson. There he(?) knelt, slowing reaching his free hand out...to grasp the rosary. It did not react at all with the being at first; after a few moments, it took on a deep, unearthly glow. And Carson knew this angel was genuine. "I applaud your courage, Carson. You will need it for the years ahead. I am indeed a true angel. An Archangel, in fact. I am Gavriel, Herald and Messenger of the Most High. I have come because you have been chosen, Carson Finbar Keefe. You have been chosen to be an agent for Good in the world. Your current dreams are worthy, yes. Such is the work of many Saints. But you shall have a task higher still. You will be endowed with a small fraction of my power. You shall craft sound into a weapon against the forces of Evil, large and small. You have great things ahead, Carson. Or should I say...Gabriel." And with no warning, Gavriel was simply gone. Carson looked down, to find himself clad in simple white clothes. Shirt, pants, gloves, boots, coat...mask, hood? Almost all of it, shining white. He felt power welling up within himself. He had a grasp on at least the basics of what to do, though he knew he needed practice. And oddly enough, he suddenly knew how to play the trumpet, as well as a couple of other similar instruments. But...what would he tell his parents. In the end, Carson broke down and told his father and mother what had happened. He made them promise not to speak of it to any of the other family, and to instead help cover for him as he took the time to start mastering his abilities, while still working hard to go to school. At first they were reluctant, but after Carson showed them his new outfit (which sadly he could not simply summon and de-summon at will), and some of the things he could do, they became convinced. So Angus and Bevin worked hard to help their middle son. They served as sympathetic listeners as he related his frustrations with school, his powers, and the continuing uncertainty of where exactly he should go. Carson graduated high school, and immediately entered the closest university with a strong fine arts program. There, he honed his dramatic and vocal skills, while also working on methods to do the same for his future students. He applied all his energy to the program, graduating with a Masters in Theater Education, and a Minor in Counseling, in only 5 (grueling) years. It was perhaps his happiest moment yet, one full of a sense of accomplishment and purpose. Not two days later, he awoke in a cold sweat. He'd had a dream, one with a sense of purpose. But all he could remember was flashing images of his heroic identity fighting criminals and super-villains in a city. Carson got up and went about a typical morning in his house. But when he happened to glance at the paper, something caught his eye, tugged at his heart, and left his rosary feeling warm on his chest. Specifically, there was a story about another conflict between superheroes and supervillains in Freedom City, seemingly the center of such activity in America. At that moment, he knew where he had to go. "Ma, Da, I know where I'm going to teach. Freedom City." At first, they looked at him with confusion. Then they saw the certainty, the conviction, in his eyes. Slowly, his father nodded, pride shining in his eyes. His mother managed to avoid crying, though a single tear slipped out of one eye as she gazed on her boy, now a man. "If that's what you feel you need to do, son, we'll help you get everything squared away." His parents kept his word. Oh, he didn't move to Freedom City the next week or anything. It took Carson just over a year to get a passport, work visa, and various certifications before he was able to move to America. During that time, he'd been helping his father at the pub, as well as doing some teaching at the local schools. Between all of that, and a bit of help from Grandfather Colin, he managed to arrange for halfway decent housing close to the campus. While he had an Irish driver's license, he didn't want to try dealing with either public transportation or getting his own car for a while. Besides, walking did him good. Carson has been living and working in Freedom City for the last year and a half. But it took him a bit over a year before he started doing any sort of crime-fighting. He prefers to keep a low profile as he patrols mostly Southside, the area he has, generally, "adopted" as "his. Freedom City Adventures For the first 4 months of his hero work, Gabriel did nothing but confront street crime. He may have passed the odd hero while "on the job", or even when out for a fly, but he'd simply nod and move on. That all changed when he sat down on a roof one evening and wondered aloud whether he was making a difference. As if answering his prayer, Freedom Angel came by to help him through his moment of doubt. Gabriel was introduced to Fleur de Joie, and from that night on, his hero life seemed to open up. Ever since, Gabriel has found himself spending more and more time among other heroes, as well as fighting more potent threats. Whether it's a duo adventure against a large group of thugs, a tour of Southside for the benefit of younger heroes, or a pitched battle against a horrible demon, Gabriel has found himself engaging in the sorts of battles one might read comic books about. Gabriel found himself one of many heroes fighting the tide of undead that was sweeping across Freedom City during the month of October. On October 28, he was watching over a rally of parents wanting to "take back the community", when two rival necromancers attacked in what amounted to a battle for territory. Gabriel fought bravely, eventually destroying all the undead present and subduing the necromancers. However, he was gravely wounded, saved only by the intervention of Freedom Angel and Fleur de Joie. He recovered, and continued to fight, but the incident eventually led him on a quest to find a replacement. In more recent times, Gabriel has finally earned membership in the Freedom League, as a Reserve Member. His continuing friendship with Fleur de Joie, and his now firmly-established friendship with Gaian Knight allowed him to request aid and permission to construct a >combination monastery and retreat on Sanctuary, to serve as a sort of "secondary base" for Gabriel, but mostly to help provide aid and infrastructure for the group of survivors discovered on the scarred planet. There are still plenty of challenges ahead, but Gabriel has an even firmer foundation than ever to weather the storms that may come. In early January 2014, Carson and Sonya Sokolova, having not had much "spark" (or time) in their relationship for a couple of months, had a discussion and decided to end their dating relationship. While both felt a bit of sadness, and Carson's parents may or may not have held a pseudo-wake at the prospect of him being single again, it was ultimately something they felt was for the best. Out of Character Words From The Creator Gabriel was born from a couple ideas crossing paths a couple years ago, combined with a desire to "stretch my wings" a bit with Mutants & Masterminds rules. A while back, I created two very different PL10s with names based on archangels (a Battle Suit, and a Costumed Adventurer). Myself or one of my gaming buddies joked that I could probably make a whole team of them. I ended up playing around in Hero Factory for a while, and came up with three more "angel" characters...including Gabriel. Within that framework, I decided I wanted variety. I already had a "sneaky guy" with my Cowl and a "blasty guy" with my Battlesuit. I created a "big guy" as a kind of combo Powerhouse and Mystical Gadgeteer, and a "healer/mage" with a Mystic fellow. Gabriel was the "bard/group face", who ended up being a Sonic Energy Controller. I figured controlling sound was the ultimate expression of the idea of a super-diplomat. For a bit of humor, I made him Irish, to go with the old "gift of blarney" idea. Thus, we have the absurdly charismatic man who can mess you up 6 ways to Sunday by making sound sit down and roll over for him. That he's become something of a "walking Public Service Announcement" wasn't entirely intentional, but is something I'll keep rolling with. I like how he's becoming kind of a bright, shiny counterpart to the more typical Cowls (who often "claim" cities or areas of cities). Southside is "his" to a point, and he tends to be very protective of it. But he ends up being the sort of guy people (who aren't crooks) cheer for, rather than recoil from. On the flip side, he's not so mindlessly cheery he'd drive the "darker" sorts too crazy.

Formatting tips: No need to space out abilities like that (feel free to look at my or other characters to see how it looks). I'm guessing the 2nd "Con" is actually Charisma? You don't list the actual Con score, just the bonus. With Skills, it's written: Skill Name [Rank] (+Total Bonus) So: Acrobatics 8 (+12) is someone with 8 ranks, then +4 Dex bonus, for a total bonus of +12 to rolls for Acrobatics. Take a look at Gabriel's sheet for example Devices for formatting. We actually have Device tags: [device][/*device], minux the *. Otherwise, looks really pretty solid.

The editing of Ecalsneerg is RED, not blue. So, finally time to edit Cobalt Templar (current active sheet is >here). He's got 8pp to spend, and boy can he spend it, what with having been stuck on a world wracked with war for 30 years! -1pp spent on another rank of Luck (bringing it up to rank 3). -6pp spent on skill ranks (24 total). 4 more to Knowledge Arcane because the Nazis used spooky stuff. 8 to Knowledge Tactics because he fought in formal units, and near the end was commanding them on occasion. 8 to Stealth because sometimes you have to be subtle. And 4 more into languages (French, German, Japanese, Spanish) to help him communicate with allies and enemies in some of the major theaters of war. -1pp spent on Immunity 1 (aging), because him looking all old and gray is no fun. Also, hey, that Ring's power has to be affecting him in other ways eventually, right? Updated Sheet (and >link to it in my Draft thread): DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC24/21 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Unarmed(G) Touch DC32 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Blast Ranged DC27 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Strike Touch DC27 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Abilities (38) + Combat (36) + Saving Throws (14) + Skills (18) + Feats (12) + Powers (91) - Drawbacks (0) = 209/209 Power Points

Cobalt Templar Corbin is a tall, broad-shouldered teenage boy; he's grown to the point he could be mistaken for an NFL Fullback. His dark hair is worn in a fairly short cut, just above "buzz cut;" Corbin says he likes not having to mess with it. His face is clean-shaven. Whenever possible, he wears loose, plain-color t-shirts and cargo shorts. When the weather is colder, he'll throw on jeans, and eventually a hooded sweatshirt or the like when he's outside. His one indulgence is a peculiar-looking pocket watch that he says his father bought for him several years ago. Otherwise, all of his clothes seem to be the sort of thing you'd find in a Wal-Mart, rather than a Ralph Lauren. The Cobalt Templar is decidedly more exotic-looking. His image evokes an armored knight, though one with plenty of colored paint; his costume is primarily cobalt blue, with maroon red trim (base layer, mask, and most of the armor is cobalt blue; armor has maroon red trim). The base seems to be a thick cloth, itself almost metallic-looking. Over that, he wears a what looks like a strong armored breastplate covering most of his torso, long armored gloves that go past his elbows, leg-plates that reach halfway up his thighs, and armored faulds that protect his upper legs and lowest torso. His identity is protected by a domino mask, with a simple helmet worn over his head. Much of the Templar's armor seems to have an odd mix of classical and futuristic lines, giving him a rather other-worldly appearance. Topping all of this off is a maroon cape that not only seems somewhat frayed, but is actually noticeably transparent; sometimes it will move as if flapping in the wind, even if there is no wind to move it. Powers & Abilities Cobalt Templar wields the Blue Ring of the Determined Leader, one of The Seven Rings>. While he has not delved the full depths of its abilities yet, he has accessed a large well of power nonetheless. His costume is just for show; the ring reinforces his body with a sort of force field just around skin level, meaning he is always protected. The "armor" is just a construct of its power; the material feels like something between plastic and aluminum if examined more closely. The ring allows him to effortlessly and almost instantly shift between his "civilian" wear and his "work" attire, and in fact to virtually any outfit he imagines. Anything that isn't his "natural" clothes (which get shunted into a small pocket dimension in the ring) tend to carry a blue coloration, often with some red or maroon mixed in. As well, the the ring allow him to survive in the most hostile of environments, including space, and to see in even the deepest of darkness. It even helps him unconsciously sense danger, giving him an edge in combat. His flight seems unsupported by any wings or other visible means of propulsion, simply lifting him into the air as if gravity were an option, rather than a law, though he often has an aura of blue, flickering flames (harmless) surrounding his body. He is able to reach speeds around 10,000 miles per hour in-atmosphere, and once he exits the atmosphere, he has found he can exceed the speed of light, hitting up to 25c. Cobalt Templar's most obvious powers center around his control of the unearthly cobalt fire that the ring produces. Strangely enough, he is not limited to burning things with blasts of this fiery power. Not only can he form hand-held weapons out of it, he can also create various simple objects, including walls, chairs, and the like. And most amazingly, the ghostly flames can wrap harmlessly around people and objects, quickly moving them out of harm's way. His unique artistic streak shines through in his power usage here, as his attacks almost always look at least slightly different each time, manifesting the blasts and strikes of energy in unique ways. More recently he devised a way to channel his fire into a large "shell" around himself (which he shapes to his whims); this shell makes him almost 10 feet tall, and gives him enough strength to move buildings. On the downside, he suffers from blunted senses in this "mode", meaning he has a harder time hitting opponents or avoiding blows. But his near-invincibility, as well as his sheer power, tend to make it a worthwhile trade in the right circumstances. While his ability to create and manipulate independent objects (rather than constructs he channels his powers through to attack an enemy) have waxed and waned, it is still part of his ability set, though he typically uses it to help him move large objects or numerous smaller ones, or occasionally to reach otherwise hard-to-get things. Biography Early History: Albert and Sarah Hughes had not originally planned to have a child just yet. After all, they were up-and-coming businesspeople in two different, rapidly growing companies! They were young; there was plenty of time for kids when things settled down a bit! But, sometimes life doesn't turn out how we plan for it. So, they buckled down and worked hard to make sure Sarah could take sufficient maternity leave to stay healthy. More efficient that way and all. Truth be told, they were both happy about the event, unplanned that it might have been. They adjusted their lives and plans, and several months later, Corbin Alphonse Hughes was born (October 27, 1993). None of them realized what an incredible destiny lay ahead of him. Corbin grew up in ever-increasing affluence, as both Albert and Sarah worked their way up from junior investors, to senior investors, to assistant vice-presidents. More and more Albert and Sarah found themselves on the road, leaving Corbin with family friends or caretakers (as they had no other close living relatives). They tried to stay connected with their son, but the onset of his teenage years made it increasingly difficult. Compounding the problem was the fact that while young Corbin seemed to have a mind well able to grasp all the various "business lessons" his parents gave him, he lacked a desire for said lessons. Oh, he'd learn what they were telling him, and talk about how to apply it. But it was blatantly obvious his heart and mind were elsewhere. You see, Corbin had grown up with a love for books, especially adventure stories and (oddly) history books. As he grew, he read and watched stories about men who went to dangerous places on earth to dig up lost treasures and knowledge. He just knew he was going to do that one day. And while many childhood career dreams change almost daily, this one stuck with Corbin even as he became a teenager. Oh, his idea of what that sort of work entailed became more realistic; he knew he'd likely never run across a single ancient "booby trap" of any sort, let alone the kinds of things Indiana Jones was dodging in his films. But still, something about working to uncover the past, to decipher the clues, intrigued him. Plus, just the general study of history was fun. The fact that he'd managed to pick up a few ancient languages over the years helped; he had a bit of a knack for them. His friends at school occasionally ribbed him about it, but his warm nature combined with his large size meant he never got any real trouble from other students. In fact, Corbin often sought to stand up for the various "underdogs" who got picked on at the school, his own size often stopping incidents before they started. All in all, things weren't too bad for Corbin, despite his workaholic parents who were only home half of the time. Stirring of Destiny: Of course, it was too good to last. Just after his sophomore year of high school ended, Corbin's parents broke the new to him. Albert had been appointed Chief Human Resources Officer of Rath and Stromberg Investments, and his mother was to be the Chief Analytics Officer at the Rhodes Foundation. They were moving to Freedom City, out on the East Coast. And they were doing so during the summer. Corbin was horrorstruck. All this time, they'd managed to stay in one place. His parents were the ones who traveled, not him. And now? He had to move across the country, away from every one of his friends, just so they could move up a couple pay grades. Only the news that they were taking him on a long-desired trip to the Middle East, specifically Israel, helped. Volatile as the region could be, Corbin's interests were piqued. After all, there were so many historical sites! So much archeology! Even better, his parents were arranging the trip with actual archeologists, not a generic tourism firm. Only the best for their son. It didn't take away all of his anger, but Corbin was content to take the trip, nonetheless. So it was that Corbin Hughes, nearly age 17 traveled to the ancient lands of the Middle East. There, he visited several ancient sites, including Jerusalem, Nazareth, Tel Megiddo, and Masada, to name a few. It was at Masada that his life changed forever. At Masada, Corbin was exploring some of the less-public areas of the ruins with two Professors of Archeology; Jacob Smith from the US, and Chaim Amar from Israel. Corbin, being younger and more athletic, was carrying around a couple of cameras and his "rough and tumble" sketch pad, occasionally going into areas the two Professors had more difficulty accessing. Two-way radios ensured they were always in communication. At one point, the discovered a tunnel entrance behind some crumbling rock. After a short distance sloping downwards, the tunnel ended at a 20-foot deep straight shaft. After talking it over, Corbin rigged up a safety line and lowered himself down the shaft. At the bottom, he found another tunnel, this one leading only a few yards deeper into the earth before ending at...a stone door. There were several lines of Hebrew scrawled across the door; Corbin took out each camera in turn, and took several pictures of the door. He then radioed the professors, asking what his next move should be. Before they could respond, the door opened of its own accord. This was also reported, and dismissed as "settling rock", though Corbin wasn't sure. He proceeded carefully into the chamber. The chamber was 10 feet in diameter, in a perfect circle; the only feature in the room was a 4 foot tall pedestal in the exact center. It was a smooth cylinder, with, of all things, a ring slotted into a notch on the top, once more in the exact center. The walls were nearly covered in writing and pictographs; Corbin quickly started taking as many panoramic pictures as possible, trying to capture the whole wall on film. Just as he finished his slow turn in place, he noticed the door slowly shut. When he tried to shove it open, it wouldn't budge. His radio was suddenly filled with static, but he managed to roughly communicate that he was trapped. The inside of the door had a few markings as well; belatedly, he took a few more pictures. Suddenly, he noticed the faint blue glow lighting the walls alongside the flashlight strapped to his shoulder. He turned, and saw the ring apparently on fire. Specifically, a deep cobalt blue fire. Oddly, the ring was completely unharmed, as was the stone around it. Suddenly, Corbin heard a voice echo in the chamber. Chosen: He looked around, but saw no way someone could be speaking into this room. The same voice, same word rolled across the room again. Louder; dust fell from the ceiling. Corbin's eyes became glued to the ring as his right hand slowly reached forward, until it was inside the blue flame, touching the ring. Moving on automatic, he slowly pulled the ring from the notch, before his left hand reached up, grasped the ring, and guided it on his right ring finger. The pedestal slowly sunk into the floor until it was flush, and the voice echoed once more. "CHOSEN!" Suddenly, with an ear-splitting *crack*, the chamber began to collapse in on itself. The next few moments are still blurry in Corbin's memory; all he can really recall is blue fire, and crumbling rock, and a feeling of weightlessness. When he was next fully aware, both Professors were standing over him, marveling at how he got all the pictures out intact; he must have taken a small side passage that opened up as that section of the dig collapsed. Neither commented on the new ring on his finger. Corbin himself forgot it as he was quickly flown back to the States, to his new home in Freedom City, by his worried parents. It was two weeks later, while he was roaming his family's new house in North Bay, that the ring that he'd essentially forgotten about suddenly flared with light.Albert Hughes was actually home at that time, and came running when he heard Corbin cry out. He came to a dead halt when he saw his son kneeling on the floor, staring in shock at the ring on his hand. The ring that was surrounded by ethereal blue flames, which were flowing forth to form...a rock on the floor. One that wasn't scratching or burning the expensive wood paneling. After several long moments, Corbin gained control. He looked up at his father, genuine fear filling his eyes, right before he passed out. When he came to, his father was examining the ring. He explained that he'd attempted to remove it, but it seemed unwilling to budge. Corbin manged to take it off with no problems, but when he tried to place it on the coffee table, it hovered in the air for a moment before settling. As an experiment, his father slipped it on his hand; nothing happened. When Corbin donned it again, the ghostly flames wreathed his hand for several seconds. Father and son looked at each other, and knew everything had changed. Just two weeks before Corbin's junior year started, his parents managed to work some connections, and get Corbin in to speak to some of the faculty at Claremont Academy. In the couple of weeks since the "awakening" of the ring, Corbin had managed to gain a notable amount of control, discovering another power, or variation of a power, every few days. The Claremont instructors spoke with him, asking about the situation surrounding his acquisition of the ring, what it could do, how well he could control it, and so on. Albert and Sarah were visibly uncomfortable with the whole situation. They wanted to know why they couldn't just have Corbin take off the ring and get rid of it. Corbin insisted he ought to do something with this power. The instructors noted that the ring's nature wasn't fully known yet; attempting to discard it so casually might have dire consequences. Thus, it was decided that Corbin would spend his junior (and presumably senior) year at Claremont Academy, not only continuing his traditional education, but also learning to control the powers granted to him by the ring. Corbin's feelings were mixed, especially as his parents arranged for him to live on campus 5 nights a week (Sunday-Thursday). Corbin got the impression his parents wanted to forget about the whole "kid with powers" thing by shoving him off in a corner. The fact that they more strictly enforced his access to any and all money from his trust funds only reinforced this notion. He knew they loved him, but he also knew they liked order and predictability in their lives. Right now, he was almost the polar opposite of either of those things. So Corbin accepted his lot at life, and started trying to fit in at Claremont. Fun Times at Claremont: At Claremont, Corbin found himself soon a part of Young Freedom, the premier team of young heroes at the school for young heroes. Between his team and other friends he made, the transition to Claremont wasn't nearly as painful as he thought it might be. He even found love among his fellow students. Of course, it wasn't all fun and games. Being a part of Young Freedom for 2 years, Corbin found himself sucked into a multi-dimensional "adventure" that had them visiting multiple worlds, until they finally settled on the world of Wander's birth, a dead Earth that was soon awash with Terminus forces. Ultimately they faced down the Knight of Entropy himself, and actually managed to temporarily slay him. The next year was odder, but no less dangerous, including a trip to Tronik and a meeting with the Erde version of himself. The tension that emerged between Corbin and half his team left him frustrated the last couple months of his senior year, a frustration he only partially excised with his parting gifts and letters to his team-mates. He graduated near the top of his class and with his choice of where to attend college. Personality & Motivation Corbin Hughes is boy of contradictions. Despite his athletic build and apparent love for rock-climbing, he's looking to become an archeologist and historian. On top of that, he has a not-very-secret love of drawing and painting, something which he has some decent talent at (as demonstrated in gifts to his friends, and his love of reading is well known, at least to his friends. Corbin tends to read various sorts of suspense books, as well as alternate history fiction, classical epics, westerns, and sword and sorcery. His taste in movies tends to run similar to his literary tastes, with more allowance for individual films that he enjoys. As for music, he enjoys most blues and jazz, as well as soft, blues, folk, southern, and classic rock and roll. On a deeper level, Corbin has fully embraced his heroic path, a path now fully supported by his parents. He loves helping people, and some part of him (a part he doesn't always like to acknowledge) enjoys the fighting, too. He finds himself constantly working to balance his personal relationships, his education, and his hero work; none of them are things he wishes to abandon, but all take quite a bit of time. As well, he has found he has a distaste for death; even when fighting Omegadrones, a part of him hated what he had to do. Only against Omega himself was that reservation truly put aside. For all that he's a near-giant of a man tossing around bright blue fire, Corbin treasures life, and is shaken when it just snuffs out in front of him. Out of Character Words From The Creator Cobalt Templar was, first and foremost, meant to stretch my character-creation a bit. He's got a Device with an Array inside of it; before long, he'll have two Arrays. As well, I wanted a Claremont Student so that I could more easily partake of the high roleplay potential contained in that place. Beyond that, I've always enjoyed the concept of Green Lanterns, and wanted to put my own spin on it. Even the whole "multiple Corps" thing appealed to me. Thus was born the idea of 7 rings of incredible mystical power, each crafted for a particular role in an elite combat team...in the ancient Middle East. As for the particulars of inspiration...I tried to mix things up a little. While his color would suggest he's a Blue Lantern Corps member, his actual powerset is a basic interpretation of a Green Lantern Corps member, right down to the 24-hour recharge, and the weakness. Though instead of a color, I went for an emotion (fear) and an "element" (hellfire) that I thought were the antithesis of the character. Moving more specific, Corbin is heavily inspired by Kyle Rayner so far as personality, skills, and such go; on the flip side, he's inspired by Alan Scott when it comes to how his powers actually go about their business (as well as the origin of the ring, roughly speaking). Which of course has now fully manifested in >the Seven Rings.

The Barnstormers Members Core Members Maverick James Parker started his life a regular kid in a regular family in a regular city. Kansas City wasn’t like Freedom City; they had no resident supers, hero or villain. Oh, some might pass through on occasion, but none stayed. All the “action†was out on the East Coast, really. So for a time, his “adventurer's spirit†was partially sated by joining the military. But then the Terminus came and burned through the skies, and it was only his incredible luck that helped James stay alive. He took his honorable discharge soon afterwards, and moved back to Kansas City to run a restaurant with his family. Of course, James Parker’s mother did not raise a fool, and he started to realize they were almost *too* lucky in their business. He wasn’t complaining, mind you, but he felt like there was something “simmering†in the background. Finally, one night when he was leaving the restaurant, he was mugged. Except that everything went wrong for the mugger, and he ended up knocked out and tied up, while James had nary a scratch. That was when he made a couple discrete calls with some Army buddies and got some tests done. Turned out, he had the power to drastically alter probability, borderline reality-warping. That was something that took him aback, though he chalked it up to the insanity of the ‘93 Invasion, combined with, perhaps, a bit of Providence. Of course, now that he knew he had such a talent, he just needed to figure out how to utilize it... A month later, he was (by some stroke of luck!) in contact with Thresher from Omaha. It didn’t take long before the costumed adventurer had helped James get a hold of some gear to fight crime (as one does when they discover they have probability-controlling powers in a world like this one), and the two of them struck up a fast friendship and solid crime-fighting partnership. It was ultimately Maverick (as James had taken to being called) who proposed the idea of the Barnstormers. Today, Maverick is the leader of the Midwest’s only Hero Team, and something of an “elder statesmen†for the small but now-thriving hero community in the great swath of the middle of the country. Striking a dashing figure in his dark blue armored suit with white gloves and boots, Maverick protects his identity with a set of stylish goggle-shades and a heavy-duty “ball cap†that is itself lightly armored. The bit of hair peeking out from under his hat is starting to go gray, but there’s nearly always a smile on his face. Aside from his cunning leadership and incredible power over “Lady Luckâ€, Maverick sports a high-tech energy pistol that he tends to twirl around like a cowboy. He doesn’t make a big deal of being a high-profile African-American hero, but neither does he try to downplay it. For him, and his team, it isn’t really a big deal, and the most important thing is the great work they do together. He’s something of an uncle figure for much of the team, who are (except for Thresher) 15 or more years younger than him. Thresher Richard Blake’s family owns majority stock in probably a third of all food growing and production in most all of the “flyover†sections of the country. From Montana to Ohio and from Minnesota to Texa. Corn, grain, beef, fish, they’re involved in almost all of it somewhere and somehow. They directly own and run a couple of large companies based in Omaha. For all of that, they are probably some of the most unassuming rich people most folks may well ever meet. Richard himself inevitably had a bit of self-importance around himself. Any child in his life probably would. But for all that, his parents made sure he was instilled with a strong sense of stewardship and responsibility. At the same time, they did all they could to encourage him to pursue his dreams; nevertheless, he ultimately wanted to try and follow in their footsteps and oversee the food industry. With that said, Richard had a mind that latched onto science as well as business, including biology. When he was in college, he occasionally did amateur research into potential “super-foodsâ€, both natural and artificial, that could help encourage incredible health in the human body. As he progressed to his Master’s, this research further rabbit-trailed into ways to increase human potential via both supplement pills and, potentially, retrovirus treatments. His work crossed over with a few other aspiring scientists, and it seemed like it wasn’t long before they had a half-dozen potential formulas to study further! But then, Richard was in the lab one night when a lightning strike hit the building and sent a surge in through several electrical devices in the building. Said surges ended up driving him back-first into a table with several beakers of some formula samples. He lay there, near-comatose, for nearly an hour, before he sat right up and suddenly felt perfectly fine. He cleaned up the mess and quietly threw his coat away, and chalked himself up as lucky. After all, there wasn’t a mark on him, so nothing to worry about, right? A week later he was in a wooded bit of property his parents owned, trying to get a handle on the incredible physical powers that had inserted themselves into his life. He took a year-long hiatus from school to give himself time to cope, citing “personal issuesâ€. College (even graduate-level) being what it was, rumors flew about the cause. Wild partying? Trouble because of indiscretions? No one could pin down a cause, so of course the invented reasons kept getting more fantastic. And were it just a minor health issue or the like, Richard would have worked to correct the rumors. Instead, he let them grow and fester. He told his parents what had happened, swearing them to secrecy; they knew the rumors that would fly were false, but of course their worry would be of a different sort. After a year of cautious practice, the Blake heir returned to school to finish his Master’s in Biochemical Engineering, picking up an MBA on the side, along with a couple of basic criminal justice courses “because SWAT teams are cool!â€. He graduated with good grades, but not the top of his class, and went home to his family and their company. It took him a couple more years of careful travels and studies to start molding himself into a hero (which was, to him, the obvious next step). Of course, when your body was as unnaturally tough as Richard’s was, you had room for mistakes. And now that he’s been fighting crime for around 15 years, Richard’s quite good at it. Thresher’s costume tends toward “urban camouflage†when he’s working in The City (Omaha); the main armored bodysuit is a grayish-blue, while the cape, gloves, boots, belt, and scalp-hugging cowl are all a dark navy blue. When working with the other Barnstormers in their base or somewhere private, Thresher often pushes the cowl back, revealing the more basic domino mask underneath. While he employs a variety of useful gadgets, Thresher’s “signature weapon†is a three-section staff of high-quality metal. He tends to be the scout and surveillance specialist of the group, and is often the “straight man†of jokes with Maverik. Stormchaser Janet Herrington dreamed of touching the sky from the time she was 5 years old. Her parents mostly just chuckled about it, but when she showed a natural talent taking some lessons in high school, they realized she could make a career from her dream. After all, it’s not like women pilots were *that* strange of an idea. So they did what they could to help her get into a flight program at a university. But ultimately, she signed up with the Air Force ROTC, quoting a “need for speed†that civilian piloting couldn’t quite fulfill. She made excellent marks in college before earning her degree in Aeronautical Engineering. Once she had graduated and was in the USAF as a pilot, it wasn’t long before she managed to get in the piloting program for the new F-22 planes. She enjoyed the “rush†of their speed and handling, and was regarded as one of the more talented pilots for the cutting-edge planes. Of course, it was that same talent that led to her awakening her powers. One day on maneuvers with her squadron out over the East Coast, a “freak storm†boiled up almost on top of them, quickly forcing them to head back to base. On the way, Janet’s instruments ceased working, and she became separated from the group, her radio barely functioning. Despite the plane’s now-erratic steering, she kept it under control, but had little in the way of navigational aides. Just as her guidance systems started to work, her plane was struck by lightning; not once, not twice, but three times in rapid succession. The engines died, the electronics fried, and for several terrifying moments, Janet couldn’t even eject. Finally the system managed to blow off the canopy and shoot out the seat...only for winds to hit her so viciously she was moved in a straight line to one side. The sheer adrenaline from the experience finally fully triggered her latent meta gene, and suddenly Janet Herrington could feel the storm around her, could influence it, guide it, direct it. Within moments, the storm was effectively gone. Of course, despite somehow just hovering there in the air, Janet still didn’t have a good idea of where she was, and her jet was by this point a spread of expensive wreckage. The weeks of debriefings and hearings afterwards were troublesome, but not as bad as they could have been. The armed forces were somewhat accustomed to the occasional “meta outbreak†with its soldiers, so they had some procedures in place. Ultimately, she was found to have no fault in the incident, as the USAF meteorologists explained the “freak†storm was actually natural, just unusually “aggressiveâ€; any part “influenced†by Janet’s metagene was extremely unconscious and fairly minimal (at most, serving as a “lightning rod†when the plane was struck, which certainly wasn’t her actual fault). Nevertheless, she ultimately took an honorable discharge and returned home to reconsider her life path. For a few weeks, she struggled to determine where to work and how to learn to really control what she could do. Until she received a call from a man who said he was the hero Thresher (she didn’t believe him at first). He offered her a job at a small private flight company on the outskirts of Oklahoma City, as well as the chance to not only learn to control her powers, but also to join a team of other super-powered individuals trying to do right by the Midwest. Janet has been Stormchaser for a few years now. She’s probably one of the most outgoing members of the group, often serving as another “face†for the team alongside Maverick. While he tends towards a more laid-back good-old-boy approach, Stormchaser can sometimes come off as someone who’s had one too many cups of coffee. But for all that, she’s really friendly, and fantastic with children. Of course, at times that cheerfulness is a bit of a mask. After all, for all her power over the weather, Janet is not omnipotent, and she has to sleep. Further, she knows she must be cautious in the changes she makes to weather patterns, for fear of creating a cascade that threatens a whole continent with drought or storms or freak blizzards. Which means there are times she cannot stop tragedies. Every missed storm is like a knife to her heart, even if she never admits it to the rest of the team. Her powers themselves are nothing short of incredible; not only can she call down lightning, winds, and ice from the skies to batter her foes, she can use her speed to deliver a flurry of blows to multiple opponents, striking them quickly with electrically-charged fists. Her reach into weather systems can reach for miles around. The speed lent her by her powers not only lets her fly fast, but also allows her to think and perform tasks at much greater speed. That speed is the key to her “ace in the holeâ€, a maneuver wherein she moves very fast to generate a near-explosion of light and sound; due to light refraction off of the water vapor that collects in her wake, a short-lived rainbow flashes into existence for miles around her, even as the winds blow over anyone unlucky enough to be nearby, and the sound of her passage assaults their ears. Her normal flight is itself fast, able to exceed the speeds of the fastest jets, at heights she could barely reach in her top-of-the-line fighter. One interesting manifestation of her abilities is that, when flying at higher speeds, ethereal wings that seem to be made of water vapor give the image of multicolored wings stretching from her back. While not incredibly colorful, Stormchaser’s outfit still manages to have its own brand of “flairâ€. The base suit is padded and reinforced morphic molecules (vaguely resembling a motorcyclist's suit) colored a dark blue; it has shimmering lightning bolt highlights that start at the shoulders and meet at the navel and small of her back. The heavy-duty boots are firmly strapped on, and themselves sport small lightning bolts at the ankles. Her head is protected by a cowl (which covers her entire head bar her mouth/cheeks, and has a small opening in the back for her short ponytail) done up to resemble an old-time aviator’s cap, complete with reflective goggles; her lower face can be protected by a morphic molecule white scarf that she can pull up to meet the cowl’s lines. Her arms are left bare (as her “melee attack†power manifestation was found to shred sleeves anyways), with only fingerless gloves to give her knuckles protection. Brand Dusty Clayton was going to go pro. He knew it, his friends knew it, his parents knew it. Everyone knew it. At 15 he was already a rising star in his high school football program. Sure, he wanted to do more than just go pro, but hey, the NFL paid good money, and he could run a business or something later on, right? That was before he had a flare-up of his powers the night before the final game of the season. He woke up in a bed smoldering in dark red fires...which were almost immediately drawn into his body when he desperately wished it would stop burning! His frightened cries drew his parents, who were a bit unsettled, but figured he was another kid with powers waking up (the news made it sound like they were all the rage these days). Of course, what to do? Where to go? Luckily, they didn’t have to do much searching; somehow, their clumsily-worded Google searches tripped some filters at Claremont, and Headmaster Summers called the Clayton family up. He helped calm their fears, and it wasn’t long before the respectable-looking headmaster with his fancy cane was sitting down across from the family, explaining a couple of options. Football wasn’t going to happen, but Dusty would certainly still have the chance for a quality education. Mrs. Clayton was enthusiastic about the scholastic opportunities, while Mr. Clayton was relieved his son would be able to go someplace he could fit in and not worry about burning down. So Dusty went to Claremont and slowly learned his powers, inside and out. He discovered that fire, lightning, indeed quite a few forms of energy soon could barely touch him. He could drink them in, though fire was the easiest by far. And then, he could turn it into those red-black flames. The ones that sometimes haunted his dreams, though he never again burnt up a bed. It was only his senior year that he discovered he was touched by Entropy, and his powers marked him as a Terminus Child, a T-Baby. This caused him a small emotional crisis; he remembered the stories his parents told of their trip to shining Freedom City, right as the Terminus Invasion struck. They saw the terrible battle in the sky where the Centurion fought Omega. Their lives were spared, but both had a few scars, both physical and mental, from the ordeal. Now he was a freak, a constant reminder of that trauma. A visit from his parents and a heartfelt, tear-soaked talk with them washed that notion away. When he graduated Claremont, Dusty was unsure of what to do long-term, so he decided to put his fire-based powers to good use. He went home and joined the city fire department, and worked out a deal with the Fire Chief where he work a hybrid uniform-costume that marked him as an official firefighter, but also as a powered individual. While he couldn’t put out every fire in a city at once, he was an incredible asset, especially in the larger blazes. He was kept busy, but Dusty found himself enjoying the work. It was hard work, but he knew he was helping people, saving lives, and it kept him busy. Of course, when Maverick approached him to join the Barnstormers, the young adult barely had to think before saying “yesâ€. Today, he’s one of the two “artillery†members of the group, his ability to absorb and expel energy making him a valuable asset on the battlefield. That he can often help combat the worst wildfires that sweep the Midwest and its neighboring areas only helps his reputation and that of the team, and gives him one more thing he enjoys doing, almost as much as he enjoys tussling with the occasional bad guy. Today, Brand’s outfit is a bit more fanciful than his initial getup with the Dallas Fire Department. A full body suit of rugged unstable molecules in a few layers helps keep him comfortable in most environments, even if he doesn’t need it; the suit is primarily a deep red, with dark orange accents, going for an obvious fire motif (complete with stylized flames). His face bears a half-mask covering his nose and throat (“Smoke still stinks and tastes terrible even if I can breathe itâ€), and goggles cover his eyes (“Feels gritty, don’t like thatâ€). Stanchion Jessie Peak came from a mixed heritage; her father was a descendant of Swiss clock-makers who had migrated to the United States a few generations ago, while her mother was a second-generation Japanese-American who had a sharp business mind. The Peaks ran a successful technology business, Mr. Peak being something of an inventor himself. They were a happy family, though Jessie grew up wanting to get beyond the Mile High City and see more of the world, or at least the country; they never seemed to have time for big family vacations. When a temper tantrum at age 14 inadvertently powdered a boulder in their backyard, it wasn’t long before Mrs. Peak called up that nice Summers man running a school in Claremont that she’d heard rumors about. Rumors that ultimately didn’t quite cover the full scope of the truth. While the whole situation had rocked the heretofore steady world of the family, they adapted surprisingly well. Though Jessie experienced times of teenage rebellion while several states away, family bonds were ultimately too strong. And though part of her enjoyed her time learning to use her powers at Claremont, the “shakeup†of moving to the East Coast also made her actually appreciate schooling. Enough that she decided she wanted to be a teacher. So after graduating from Claremont, she went on to attend the University of Denver and achieved a Masters in Primary Education. After getting her degree and certification, she went on to become a 1st-grade teacher at a public school in Boulder, living in an apartment not too terribly far from her parent’s home. But while she dearly loved her job and enjoyed teaching children, part of her couldn’t truly resist the siren song of the power singing in her veins, her legacy from the earth-mages of the ancient Alps. So it wasn’t long before Stanchion debuted in Colorado, fighting crime and helping out in disasters out on the mountains. And it wasn’t long after that that the burgeoning team for the Midwest contacted her. Maverick and Thresher helped her smooth out her methods for keeping identities separate and such. Today, she still teaches at the same school; her dedication to teaching means she doesn’t run off for a super-fight at the drop of a hat; most mundane crime during the day doesn’t get her attention. The occasional genuine metahuman (or tech-using human) attack might draw her wrath, though. And she’s a fearsome opponent for foes the Barnstormers face on the Great Plains! Her ability to move and mold dirt and rock mean she’s a good hand in rescue situations, as well as forming firebreaks or new channels for irrigation and water movement. Stanchion wears a loose outfit, layered earth tones with dashes of dark green thrown in. Her hands bear padded gauntlets, while more nimble “ninja style†boots make sure her steps are light but sure. A bandana-style mask covers the top half of her head, her hair bound up in a tight braid down the back, while a dome-shaped hat keeps her face shadowed enough to make photos indistinct. Aquifer Tina Evans never thought that the Polish heritage on her mother’s side included more than one Sidhe. Of course, it’s not like anyone at the family reunions had pointy ears or anything, so it’s not like it was obvious. And for most of her life it wasn’t! Until the night in her senior year in high school that she was about to get mugged in an alley after taking a few wrong turns after a concert. When she summoned up a blast of water that tossed the thugs to the opposite end of the alley, it was a big surprise for her! Bigger even than Thresher (boy was he far from home) suddenly dropping onto the thugs and quickly restraining them. Apparently he’d been tracking the gang these guys were in over half the Midwest. He’d seen what Tina had done, and was impressed. He gave her some numbers to contact if she wanted to at all pursue this new chapter in her life. After he politely escorted her to a bus station, of course; he was nothing if not a gentleman. After getting home and going through some emotional aftershocks of the near-mugging, the Evans family (mother, father, Tina, and her younger-by-a-year brother) sat down to talk about things. None of them knew how the powers had come up (that discovery came later), but her parents were firm she at least ought to learn to control them, even if she didn’t end up a hero. After all, it was the same as someone getting lessons in driving a car; it would be irresponsible to not practice with something that had that kind of potential danger! So extracurricular lessons with a Claremont graduate got arranged, and Tina graduated high school near the top of her class and with some pretty cool powers to boot. But what to do now? Then she was approached for a special “learn as you go†business internship at Blake Foods. The program helped promising students work part time and take accelerated college courses, earning a degree in 3-5 years while also keeping down their debt and building up experience in the business world. Tina, with aspirations of going into accounting and eventually becoming an actuary, jumped at the chance. It was only after getting set up at the St. Louis office and enrolling at Saint Louis University’s business program that Thresher contacted her again, asking her if she wanted to do some hero work on the side. He explained that with her powers, she didn’t have to fight villains, either; being able to call to water would be enormously useful in the breadbasket of the United States! Tina thought for a bit, and finally agreed. Now, 3 years later, she already has her Bachelor’s and is working on her Master’s alongside her Actuary license, all while spending a fair bit of time fighting both crime and drought as Aquifer, the aquatic avenger of justice! Aquifer’s powers are fairly potent; she can attack with water in a variety of ways, and even cause it to freeze, at least to a limited degree. She can generate some on her own (faerie magic), but works best when there are sources nearby. She’s taken to the martial arts training alongside Granary pretty well. Both young women prove themselves more formidable than one might initially think, a mistake that’s laid out more than a few enemies of justice! Her outfit bears a few layers of unstable molecules (even if cold doesn’t really bother her), and has a few handy pockets, as well as some decorative padding on her shoulders (to broaden her silhouette a bit). Her twin braids flow out through special holes in her full-head mask that otherwise covers everything but her mouth, smooth reflective lenses over her eyes still somehow giving off a friendly air. The whole thing is decorated in various shades of blue. Granary Sarah Cassidy was a quiet girl growing up. Not necessarily unpopular, neither had she been one of the infamous “popular girlsâ€. Instead, she just sort of...drifted. College helped, especially because it let her really focus on her love of science, specifically cutting-edge botanical genetic engineering. Even in college, she was beginning to break ground in developing new strains of plants, primarily hardier and more efficient food crops. Each change was incremental, but measurable. When she graduated, it was perhaps a foregone conclusion she would end up at a high-end biological research facility run by Martel Enterprises focused on plants. She was a valued but quiet member of the team, never really making any “waves†as she continued to dive into her research. Her biggest “secret†was probably how much she admired the superheroes of the world, especially the plant controllers, and especially the Freedom League member Fleur de Joie, the mighty but humble plant controller! Truly there was someone who understood the importance of the botanical world. Sarah’s research, somewhat unconsciously echoing this desire, started to include potential ways to incorporate aspects of plants into the human genome. Primarily, she sought ways to incorporate some of the unique resilience of plants, and perhaps ways to use photosynthesis to sustain and heal the human body. It was bleeding edge, but it was something her supervisors were leery of, so she was asked to keep it as a heavily-monitored side project. When agents of the Labyrinth attacked the lab, seeking the results of another sub-section that had been developing less-than-lethal agents based on plants for use by police forces (presumably to make them very-lethal), Sarah was trapped in her private lab. Even though part of her wanted to try and do something, she hid, knowing she couldn’t do anything against the strange bio-engineered troops marching through the halls. Until a couple of them burst into the room, frightening her and causing her to dash across the room...right to where she had the secured cabinet with several of the human/plant hybrid formulas. Just as she reached it, one of the invaders hit her with a high energy “stun rayâ€. Normally this would have just knocked her out, but as she slammed into and through the glass of the cabinet, and the shot from the second invader smashed several of the formula vials, that extra energy helped start a unique reaction... Sarah Cassidy’s unconscious, bleeding form was dragged to one of the waiting helicopters outside the facility, the first of the prisoners the Labyrinth goons had gotten their hands on. Everyone else was in a secured shelter room (somewhat standard for high-end research facilities on Earth Prime). They hadn’t counted on the young scientist subtly healing up, nor her hair slowly shifting color...or that, when she woke up, the grass all around them would spontaneously shoot up into entangling vines that left them completely tied down. Somehow, she instinctively grasped control of her strange new powers, and quickly wrecked the various helicopters. Before long, the rest of the Labyrinth troops were restrained outside, and Sarah was left standing there in a near-panic, before suddenly she was standing next to the potted plant in her apartment, trying to figure out what was going on. Several sick days and a few panicked calls later, Sarah was taking a nice separation package from Martel and being relocated to the Barnstormers base, where she serves as the team’s medic and bioscientist, as well as doing freelance research on the side. Granary (as she’s chosen to call herself) is not as powerful or versatile as Fleur de Joie, but is perhaps a bit tougher, as well as being unusually stealthy (both from her powers, and extensive training from Thresher). Often, she and Thresher will sneak in around behind an enemy and use surprise to bind them and deliver the knockout blow. She’s proving herself quite the martial artist, even as she’s able to create and manipulate large swathes of plant matter. A power that’s appreciated during times of drought or plague, for sure. Her outfit is a mix of green shades, with a few highlights of rose red mixed in (to keep from being confused with Fleur too much). A basic, rugged bodysuit of unstable molecules is the cor, with plenty of pockets on the belt and legs for samples or first aid supplies or whatnot. Sturdy boots and gloves round out the “base†layer. On top of that, she wears a dark green Inverness-style coat with an added hood, while a large domino-style mask covers the upper half of her face (but narrows down and slides under her hair on the sides and back). Her pixie-cut hair is no one color, as it seems to shift between various flower shades that are connected to her mood; usually it’s a fairly mellow color, but in the occasional fight it might end up a brighter shade. Reserve Members These heroes sometimes fight alongside the other Barnstormers, but are a bit more independent, and don’t necessarily make a habit of making it to team meetings or all the fights. Thus, Maverick and Thresher have classified them as “Reserve†members, though none among the Core members question the power or heroism of these fine people! Sidewinder bears a sleek battlesuit in his fight against the forces of evil, moving across the skies at incredible speeds! He calls Wichita, Kansas his home, though he’s just as often patrolling the state’s capital of Topeka. Casey Jones is a man built like a truck and stronger than a train, his powers making him a paragon not unlike the legendary Centurion. The hero dressed in a fanciful version of a train engineer’s outfit of old makes his home in Illinois, though he tends to be seen more in Springfield, as Chicago typically has a hero or two focusing just on its defense. Mantis is a polite woman who happens to bear the ability to call forth swarms of insects virtually anywhere; she uses these powers to help stem damage from locust hordes and other similar troubles across the Midwest. Of course, she’s often fighting crime in Little Rock, Rogers, or one of the other scattered cities of any notable size in Arknsas. Captain Dakota flies about North and South Dakota fighting against evil with his mighty strength and his shining light-based powers. His colorful costume and shiny powers hide his shame at being a second-generation demon who decided to fight on the side of angels, stealing an ancient, hellish artifact in the process of fleeing to a remote section of the USA. Shieldmaiden is the daughter of one of the eldest Valkyries, long ago frozen into stasis in a grand battle, and now revived to fight the forces of chaos and Ragnarok here on Midgard! This lady weapons master makes her home in Minnesota, among the descendants of the Vikings she once fought beside. Base, Mission, Purpose Base of Operations Some would say the base for the Barnstormers is more befitting a random mad scientist than a team of superheroes. Others would say it’s oddly isolated. Thresher says it’s conveniently located, and they don’t have to worry about weather chipping the paint. Most missile silos are further west and north, but there are a few a bit closer to the heart of America. In this case, it was a facility designed to launch a series of successively more advanced missiles whose purpose would primarily be the temporary disabling of the high-end USSR supers who would be flying to intercept it. The missile itself was dismantled in the late 80s due to the changing times, and the silo was cleared out, leaving a metal-and-concrete husk behind. Years later, Thresher, as Richard Blake, purchased it and began renovating on the sly, with a few tips from Raven and Daedelus in the Freedom League. Slowly it transformed into an elaborate operating base. It had living quarters for about 20 people long-term, with short-term shelter options for a couple hundred (one never knew when you’d need a tornado shelter in the Midwest), as well as plenty of cooking, relaxation, and entertainment space. There was a standard gym, one equipped with high-powered equipment to challenge those with superhuman strength, and even a primitive simulation room for basic team exercises. The whole place was fully wired with an incredibly secure bank of servers giving them more processing power than they’d need (and constantly updated, approximately every 3 years, by Thresher and Sidewinder). A meeting room gave the team a place to plan how they’d tackle a problem, doubling as a place to easily communicate with groups like the Freedom League and various state authorities. A few prep rooms give the team a place to change into costumes, or repair/replace them, before a mission. And the central shaft houses the launch elevator for the team’s high-end jet. All in all, it’s remote enough to avoid trouble, but close enough to a couple of cities to keep the team well-connected. And it’s well-stocked enough some of them live there part-time. Team Origins and Mission The team began with a partnership between Maverick and Thresher to bring down a particularly nasty gang, but the idea for it to be more than just a dynamic duo was all Maverick. He realized that the morale of the Midwestern supers needed the boost that a high-profile hero team could provide. It was time the “Flyover States†showed they could produce heroes of the same caliber as the Coasts. It was all friendly, of course, and Maverick still has only the highest of respect for both the League and the Champions (not that he doesn’t engage in some good-natured ribbing now and again). Stormchaser and Stanchion were the next two recruits, with Brand coming about a year after that, and Granary and Aquifer coming on at about the same time (and thus ending up training together). The various Reserve members trickled in over the years, with Captain Dakota being the newest recruit, and (on the flip side) Sidewinder nominally having joined before Brand (and having helped construct their base). These days, the Core members are almost always active on missions, though rarely are all 7 of them at one site, either because there are multiple disasters, or they have other obligations. The Reserve members typically attach themselves if either their specific skills/powers are needed, or the issue is near their “turfâ€. All in all, the Barnstormers are a successful, respected group of crime-fighters who get even more practice dealing with disaster relief and mitigation, enough that they sometimes work with UNISON on projects outside the US borders, though typically not for long. All of them love their homes, and the greater area they protect. For some it’s Flyover Country, but for them, there’s just No Place Like Home. Author’s Notes Concept and Purpose This team was conceived (way back when) out of a desire to see more heroes not only from, but in, the Midwestern United States of America. I wanted to make a cool, competent team that could handle both super-crime and natural disasters. Most of them are “elementals†for this very reason. They can calm storms, reduce the impact of droughts, beat back wildfires, that sort of thing. They’re not perfect, and there’s not an infinite number of them. Bad things still happen. But they’re heroes, they’re there to help, and it helps. Thresher is because every team needs a Cowl. Maverick’s sort of inspired by the mayor of my hometown (at least when this team was thought up), primarily my thought that “if nothing else he has an awesome voice and I’d totally love a hero with that voice leading a teamâ€. Also the name Maverick is awesome, and a smiling, savvy luck controller leader is a nice touch. He doesn’t have Edge’s crazy reality-warping, so he can play things smart. He’s the guy who nudges the metaphorical (and literal) dice in your favor, all while having a crazy plan that’s just so crazy it might work. This team is meant to be used by anyone, so feel free. Don't job them or fridge them, but otherwise feel free to use one, some, or all of them. They're all supposed to be PL10, because they're covering something like half the USA by area (even if some of the big cities have a couple heroes lounging around in them). These folks know what they're doing, but they're all open and friendly and ready and willing to help. Y'all come back 'round these parts, y' hear? Suggested Builds (With Tweak Suggestions) Maverick: AA's >Luck Controller With A Gun, albeit with some heavy tweaks. No autofire on the gun, drop leaping entirely, speed down to 1, and use the freed-up points to buy stuff like Inspire and such. Thresher: AA's >Costumed Detective, no tweaks needed. Stormchaser: Gizmo's >Rainbow Dash build. No tweaks. Brand: AA's >Fireman build, no real tweaks. Stanchion: AA's >Terrakinetic build, no real tweaks. Aquifer: AA's build for >Nina; drop the Vampiric attack and make that a Move Object: Water power with as much range as possible (to pull water up from underground). Granary: AA's build for >Walkabout, no real tweaks needed. Sidewinder: AA's build for >Avro Arrow, maybe a few tweaks to make him smarter, but otherwise fine. Casey Jones: AA's >Regenerating Paragon build, no real tweaks. Mantis: Trollthumper's >Animal Controller, but focused on insects and arachnids, not birds. Captain Dakota: AA's >Demon with a Power Ring build, no real tweaks needed. Shieldmaiden: AA's >Zorro build, but if possible shifted to no tradeoffs on Attack/Damage, since she's more about power. Heck, no Defense/Toughness tradeoff either, but with some of the Toughness and Defense tied up in 1-2 devices for "shield and armor".

Just giving this ahead of time... Friday the 19th, I'm going to be leaving early in the morning with my family headed for a family reunion. We'll be gone Friday, Saturday, and probably most of Sunday. Depending on when we get back Sunday I might then be going to something else for a while in the evening. I'll be totally AFK until Sunday when I'll only kind of be around. Monday I should be on some though despite taking the day off work I might be doing other stuff. Who knows!

Gabriel gave a slightly worried look to the scientists. He then looked at the ground. "Should I try doing something to even minorly calm down...ah, bisophere A? Even if it doesn't stop it, if I can slow it down, it'll be worth it, right?" Gabriel was not a biologist, kaiju specialist, botanist, or geologist. But he knew he could calm people and animals down really really well with his powers, and he'd done so over large areas before. Even if he couldn't specifically negotiate wit the "biosphere", he thought that surely he could use the more subtle aspects to calm it down. But hey, that's why he asked the others there. But he bet he could out-dance anyone there. Except maybe Comrade Frost; he knew Russians were mean dancers.

"They're running on my company's patented energy source. The Vacuum Energy System. I'm excited to see how Miss Parker has drawn out the full potential of my power systems." He gave a wink to the others present as he continued. "Not that I don't mind seeing new inventions being demonstrated. Robots especially appeal to the 10-year-old engineer in my heart. I suspect they do so for many others, yes?"

Gabriel nodded as the others spoke. "Yes. As much as I'd like to turn this city to powder-" He seemed to mean that entirely literally. "These people are our first priority. I can take over-watch, especially since I can pretty quickly relay if something nasty is inbound, or I can warn one of the civilians if they're about to get separated. Either way." If there was no objection to the idea, once they got moving Gabriel would take to the air, using his vocal prowess to get the whole group clumped together and moving, before staying in the air in a spot roughly above the middle of the crowd.

So I forgot...why is the Baron out there?

The Seven Rings In Brief The Seven Rings are ancient tools created to defend a nation faced with enemies far greater than itself. Each of them is an incredibly powerful artifact, a weapon that can make virtually anyone into a one-person army. Perhaps most terrifying is the fact that these artifacts will work for whoever claims them; while once meant for good, at least some of them have been used for evil in the past. Power can corrupt, and there is a large deal of power in any of the rings. Only time will tell the character of their wielders in the modern day. History Origin It was 57 BC, and Israel was freshly conquered by the Romans. The Hebrew people groaned under the harsh rule of the Romans, but what military strength they had was nowhere near enough. Something had to be done. And in a remote hideaway, something was, indeed, being done. In a secret cave complex, a conclave of mages was meeting. These men would be considered followers of the traditions of Kabbalah in the modern day, but in 57 BC they had no formalized name. While the mystical traditions of Judaism had many applications, these particular practitioners specialized in creating mystically imbued objects. They'd worked hard in times past to arm Judea's best soldiers with peerless swords, spears, shields, and more. But it was never enough. After all, the Romans had their own mages, some of whom had even studied under the witch Medea! It seemed like no matter what they had done in the brief tenure of fighting, it hadn't been enough. One of their elders proposed that it was because they had tried to make so many artifacts, and had spread their magic too thin. He said they should instead all cooperate to create a small number of very potent artifacts. These could be given to a few trusted individuals, who would become the "tip of the spear" in their fight against the Romans. So their work began. It took them until 52 BC, but they were ready for the final step. They'd crafted seven rings, each with a unique gemstone embedded in a platinum ring, etched with dozens upon dozens of holy runes and symbols. A blue sapphire, a green emerald, a red ruby, a violet amethyst, an indigo spinel, a yellow beryl, and an orange wulfenite. Each gem chosen to channel a particular kind of energy. A particular resonance that would allow each ring to bring potent abilities to bear that, when used together, should make an unstoppable team. The rings went through their final assembly, their final preparatory benedictions. Then, the final ceremony began. Every member of this secretive group took part, all of them working in concert to channel various elements and concepts into the rings, and on top of it all pouring a healthy does of the elemental creative energy of creation. The ceremony was a success...one that cost the lives of half the participating mystics, including all the senior members. Those left knew how the rings worked, knew how to search for appropriate wielders...but did not know how to create more ever again. They agreed that, in the end, that might be for the best. Such power shouldn't become commonplace. First Seven Champions Within a year, all 7 Champions had been chosen, each for possessing just the right traits to effectively use these new rings. The champions were all grabbed from normal, non-military lives to become something, someone else. They were given 6 months to train themselves and train together, before it was demanded they take the fight to the Romans. So they trained and worked hard; each and every one of them went from "inexperienced" to "near expert" in that short time. They felt they were ready to take to the field of battle. So, in the summer of 50 BC, the Seven Champions of the Seven Rings launched an assault upon a nearby Roman garrison. It was a horrifically one-sided fight. For two years, it continued in the same manner. The Romans slowly threw more and more troops at the Champions, but they always seemed to be able to take whatever forces were thrown at them. Eventually, they were taking on a fair portion of a Roman Legion. But then, tragedy struck. The wielder of the Violet Ring was isolated during a fight, and a handful of Roman mages managed to kill said Champion. The ring was recovered, but the loss hurt the morale of the group. Over the next few fights, the Romans grew bolder, and it wasn't long before Indigo and Orange were dead as well. The rest fell to despair, deciding they'd simply discard their rings, bury them in save places, and slip back into mundane lives. All of them except the wielder of the Blue Ring. He declared he would go down fighting. He fulfilled that oath, and it was only through the timely work of the Yellow Ring-bearer that such a powerful weapon didn't fall into the hands of the Romans. All 7 Rings were gathered, and the mystics chose to hide them, entrusting a small number of their remaining members to act as watchmen, and look for a time when one or more of them might be needed by the land of Judea, and given to worthy successors. Champions Through the Years All of the rings have been wielded several times, by good men, by tyrants, and sometimes by people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was something of a pattern to the appearances, though. Often, 3 or more rings would be found and used at times when war or other major events were looming, or when the common person needed an extra bit of hope. The waning days of the Roman Empire saw all but the Violet and Blue rings standing against the barbarian hordes, at least for a time. In the middle ages, the Yellow, Green, Orange, and Indigo rings found themselves on the hands of people caught up in the midst of all the wars raging across Europe. As the Industrial Revolution approached, all but the Yellow ring disappeared. That particular ring seemed to keep changing hands, often working from the shadows...until it vanished in the late 1700s. From then on, none of the rings were seen again. Until a teenage boy found one in an old fortress in the desert, and decided to make himself into a hero... The Rings Blue Ring of the Determined Leader The Blue Ring was built as the "centerpiece" of the set of 7. Not so much because it was the most powerful, but more because its versatility and the mental/emotional state it was connected to meant it was ideal for a team leader. The Blue Ring runs off of willpower, or as some might thing of it, determination. The wielder of the Blue Ring must always have a strong sense of what he's trying to accomplish, what he stands for, and so on. Unfortunately, in some wielders, this has led to great pride; not all determination is pure in nature. The Blue Ring is associated with Fire, and typically manifests most of its more overt powers as fire constructs. Its powers seem to vary according to the person using it, and sometimes on what actions may have pushed the Ring to its limits. Most of those who wore it found themselves physically enhanced, well-protected, and able to attack in a variety of ways. They almost always have at least some ability to create objects out of ethereal blue fire; however, unlike some of the other rings, these constructs never seem to last. They are most often used for temporary cover or other short-term tactical advantages. Red Ring of the Courageous Warrior The Red Ring has always been the most...volatile...of the Seven Rings. It grants its bearer great physical might and prowess in battle, but more than any of the other ring, it can leave its user prone to the darker aspects of its nature. For in the heat of a large fight, it is not a large leap to go from "courage" to "battle-lust", and from there to "wrath and rage". It is not so much that the ring forces anger on anyone who uses it, as it is that they mind-state required to use it without descending into rage is like walking a narrow ledge. More than a few have fallen from the ledge, and as a result channel immense anger into the ring; anger that has left "echoes" upon it for future users to deal with... Of course, the reward is incredible power. More than any of the other rings, the Red Ring grants its Courageous Warrior unbelievable physical might, easily topping even that of the Blue Ring. There is a legend that the greatest wielder of the Warrior's Ring so far was able to briefly hold up a small hill from collapsing on his comrades-in-arms, allowing them to escape before he simply punched his way free. And the ring grants endurance to match that mighty strength; more than a few tales speak of the Warrior shrugging off blows even from his fellow Champions. The Red Ring grants flight, but it isn't quite as fast as the rest of the rings; it's clear this artifact is meant for power in battle and little else. More than just power, the Red Ring grants the user power over blasts of lightning. Some of these blasts are straightforward, but some are more subtle, working to wear away the armor of a foe, or perhaps even weaken his very body. Still, the Red Ring gives no truly notable powers that apply outside of combat, beyond flight and the ability to move very large things. It's clear the Warrior was always intended to work in concert with others, as part of a team. Despite this, more than one user in history has adopted a "lone wolf" mentality. Yellow Ring of the Cunning Illusionist The Yellow Ring was, in the first group of Champions, used by the most trusted friend of the Leader. After all, together they could devise tactics that put the light-based illusions in just the right spot, playing on the fears and expectations of the enemy to drive them into disarray. And there is the core method of the Yellow Ring: Use illusions and other such powers to confused and frighten the enemy, leaving them as easy pickings for the Illusionist or his comrades. Of course, the flip side of this is that some users of the Yellow Ring descended into sadism, reveling in the power over others the ring gave them. Such individuals enjoyed causing fear in one way or another to whoever they can. This was not the ring's true intention, however; in its conception, it was thought that frightened enemies might surrender and thus prevent a larger spread of bloodshed. The ring's powers center mostly around light; it can create large, complex illusions that one can barely tell from the real thing. It uses harsher blasts of light to attack foes, strobe patterns to confuse them, and even carefully-calibrated pulses that trigger the fear response in the brain of almost any foe. Beyond that, the ring gives the basic protection against the environment all the rings share, grants the ability to fly, and gives the user decent protection, though less than the Leader, and definitely less than the Warrior. It has other minor enhancements, but it's clear from the outside the Illusionist fights first and foremost with their mind, not their arms. Orange Ring of the Protective Builder The Builder's ring is, in the right hands, perhaps the most potent of all the rings. Not so much because of it's destructive potential, but because of its creative potential. More than once, the Orange Ring has been used to raise a full fortress in the span of a day or less. Parts of Masada itself were actually earth carefully moved and packed together by the Builder's ring. Of course, those consumed by greed while wearing the ring created deep, dark places to hide their treasures; some of these secret vaults may yet be hidden across the world! For though the ring encourages protectiveness, for some, the years drag on and warp that instinct. After all, how better to protect something than to keep it to yourself? To hide it and store it and cherish it, so that no one else can despoil it even with a glance of their eyes! The greedy Builders have perhaps been the "least harmful" of the various fallen Champions; they tended to simply sit on their hoards and contemplate their possessions. When they fought, it was only to acquire more things, never for some baser desire to fight for its own sake. The powers of the Orange ring seem to center around earth. Rock and dirt, stone and sand, all seem to be connected to this ring. True to its name, it can call up these elements to build whatever the Champion who wields it desires. In battle, the Orange Ring can create permanent walls of stone, or temporary walls of thick, powerful energy constructs. Similar constructs are often used to attack foes, and the Orange Ring is famous for holding back large numbers of enemies on its own. Its protection to the user is decent, but like the Yellow ring, it does not lend itself to fighting up close. The Builder can fly, but no faster than the Warrior. However, the Orange Ring gives its user the ability to actually move about underground, all the better to know just where to created that perfect vault... Green Ring of the Hopeful Fatemaster The Fatemaster's Green Ring has been often sought by those wishing to increase their fortunes; however, they are rarely the ones to be gifted with its power. This ring is considered the most "temperamental", and has been known to literally fly off the hand of an unworthy user. The great trap that many of its users have fallen into is that of carelessness, a capricious abandonment of any sense of duty or obligation for the sake of following the whims of fortune. For the name "Fortunemaster" is well-earned; the Green Ring was often the difference between victory or defeat, its powers turning an enemy's skill against itself. More than that, the Fortunemaster's allies have preternatural luck, striking blows that by all rights should miss wildly, or shaking off strikes that should put them down. When he attacks more directly, the Fatemaster's ring flings out a blast of concentrated air, which moves so fast and with such pressure it often cuts the opponent. Opponents trying to strike the wielder of the Green Ring find their blows sliding off a thin layer of "armor" made of air; however, this armor can be breached, and the Green Ring's protection is never as thorough as the Blue or Red Rings. When flying, the Fatemaster can outpace everyone else; they are truly at home in the air. Ultimately, this ring is meant to move around the battlefield, aiding where it can and moving on, rather than becoming engaged in any one battle for a length of time. Indigo Ring of the Empathic Mind-Spy The Ring of the Mind-Spy was created as yet another "support" ring; while it has some potent ability to attack, either directly or indirectly, its greatest strength is in its ability to gather and disseminate information. Though the Mind-spy works best in a group, this Champion can work well on their own. In a darker twist of its intention, an experienced user of this ring could set themselves up as a ruler, due to the depth of their mental powers. Such would be the slippery slope they may face if they adopt an "ends justify the means" attitude with their abilities. For when you know the innermost secrets of man, why would you leave their ruling to them? Its wielder can read minds, or simply extend their senses to cover huge areas. And then, in a short amount of time, they can turn around and send that information to their comrades. Add to it their ability to strike at an opponent's mind directly, and they're formidable indeed. Whether the ring-user attacks their mind and will directly, fires a concentrated bolt of mind-stuff, takes control of their mind, or simply overwhelms them with fear, despair, or even love, they are a foe not to be underestimated, nor an ally to be quickly abandoned. Violet Ring of the Loving Healer The Healer's violet ring carries with it a sense of purity, renewal, and cleansing. Fitting due to its intrinsic connection with water. The Healer must care for others with deep and abiding love. They must also take care this love does not grow into obsession with others. The cleansing waters that flow from this ring wash away wounds, diseases, poisons, and all the sundry hurts and troubles of the body. By the same token, those waters can create barriers between the wounded and the enemy, and even strike back with deadly force; sometimes these attacks are like crashing waves, and sometimes they take the form of shards of ice seeking out an opponent. Another "trick" is for the Healer to summon water around an opponent, and flash-freeze it in an attempt to hinder their movements. On flying opponents, it may at least keep them from easily using limbs, if not ceasing their flight itself. The Healer's ring gives them passable flight speed, but they can move surprisingly well under water (though all rings let their users breath there). The protections of this ring run the standards of the others, with no outstanding features thereof. Author's Notes General Notes So, these are basically my in-universe interpretation of, and homage to, the DC Lantern Corps. They're rings, they're color-coded (for your convenience!), they're potent, and they're connected to emotions and general "themes". But, there are some key differences. For one thing, there are exactly 7 rings, not 7 whole Corps. Each of them is unique; in other words, if one of them is already "in play" in this forum's game, you'll have to talk with that player, but most likely go for some other origin for your powers (or pick another one of the rings). Another difference is that these rings don't seek out a successor on their own. They won't work for just anyone, but they don't fly off and tell someone they've "been chosen". Instead, they often simply lay where they've fallen, or perhaps are locked away by someone who can't wear it but is still trustworthy. Some are passed down each generation. Point is, this is a plot hook: One day, your character finds an ancient magical ring, and bam, hero! Also, all rings have the Magic Descriptor, and either the Holy or Unholy descriptor (depending on if it's a villain or not).On to specifics. Blue Ring This one is used by Cobalt Templar. Thematic element/descriptor is Fire. As stated above, it's a bit of a "Jack of All Trades", and were another character to use this, they could reasonably end up with a different set of powers and focus than CT has. Still, the general idea of Flight, Protection, at least a Blast, and probably at least a little physical augmentation is good. I'd say at least a token amount of Create Object should be in there as well, if for no other reason than to justify this character always changing up how their attack looks, if not how it works. That's not to say a future user of the ring has to do so, though. Red Ring This ring is actually hidden away, given to Cobalt Templar by Ironclad a while back (she ran into an upstart villain using it). He's not actively looking for a user, mostly due to concerns about the "anger issues" it seems to generate. That's not to say the user of this ring should take the Rage feat; far from it. But I would heavily recommend anyone who decides to take this ring on take a Complication or two that has them be more easily angered, more willing to use force, etc. The unique Descriptor in play here is Lightning/Electricity. In my mind, a user of the Red Ring would get a Blast, and then a Drain Toughness of some sort (though that could come into play much later on). No Strike here, though, except maybe a Strike 0 with some Extras; all the melee damage comes from Strength. As well, this Ring is one of the most likely to leave lasting changes on a bearer; you could pretty easily justify some Enhanced Strength and Constitution here. Also, no Toughness here, just more Constitution. This guy ought to get Impervious Toughness at some point, though. Super-Strength is pretty much a given, and at least half again as much as the Blue Ring. Flight should be mediocre, as should any sensory abilities. Life Support is pretty given, and I could see justification for Immunity to Critical Hits. Basically, this guy is really good at taking down foes in combat. But on the flip side, his Super-Strength is the most "constructive" ability he has; he should never get Create Object. Yellow Ring Location and/or User unknown (aka I haven't thought them up yet, but it's Out there Somewhere). This Ring would (obviously) use the Illusion power. Probably Environment Control (Light). Flight that could match the Blue Ring generally speaking. Some Enhanced Strength, but no Super-Strength. No Create Object. Enhanced Dex would be thematic, and a bit of Enhanced Con. Protection, but definitely not Impervious. Emotion Control (Limited: Fear), and maybe at high level the ability to nullify the Fearless feat. A basic Ranged Damage, and maybe a Mighty Damage, but definitely not the direct attack focus of Red or Blue. Yellow is intended to sit further back, fool enemies with illusions, and basically do visual and mental "battlefield control". Precision over Power. Complications should focus less on major personality alterations and more on occasional recharge, or a minor vulnerability to unholy damage. Unlike Sinestro Corps rings they don't use any measure of mind control or the like. Orange Ring Also in Cobalt Templar's possession, locked away in his forest hideout. He's also not actively looking for a user, because the last guy was totally crazy with a Capital C. And he's not sure it's what he's "supposed" to do. Power wise, it looks defensively like the Red Ring. Toughness-shifted, fair bit of Impervious. Plenty of Enhanced Con. While the Red Ring makes you an Engine of Destruction on the battlefield, the Orange Ring makes you a Mountain. Not only should the Bearer be tough, they make tough Constructs. Plenty of Create Object here, but no Precise (except maybe near your "capstone"), and probably the primary iteration has no Tether or Moveable; you make big, simple rock walls. This character would play somewhat like Gaian Knight; making rocks, Move Object for rocks, Tunneling, and a slow Flight (but with Platform). Blast is you tossing around chunks of rock. No Strike; if you want Melee just get Enhanced Strength. Complications would include a long-term tendency to get possessive of objects, or even greedy. This ring has less immediate risks than the Red, but not by a long margin. If a character has iron focus and will, though (not the feat, just the character trait), it shouldn't be a large issue; mostly just an occasional "oh that's shiny I'd like it!" sort of thing. Green Ring Location and/or User unknown (aka I haven't thought them up yet, but it's Out there Somewhere). Somewhat like the Yellow Ring, this one is about Precision over Power. So no Impervious or Super Strength, but basic self-buffs are fine. Should be a fast flyer, but not be good at Space Travel; you're about Air not Space. Green is about being a "buffer"; one of the big things in this Ring should be Luck Control, and the "opening salvo" should be things that let your team-mates re-roll. Feats like Leadership and Inspire could/should be tacked inside this thing. As should ranks of luck. The Air Control should be a Ranged Damage, maybe an Area Damage, and perhaps some severely-limited Move Object (limited direction: forward or away). Later on getting anti-enemy Luck Control would be prudent. This Ring is all about changing the odds as much and as often as possible. Complications might revolve around difficulty staying focused on objectives, or developing high-grade apathy. The winds do not like to be bound, after all. Indigo Ring Location and/or User unknown (aka I haven't thought them up yet, but it's Out there Somewhere). Really only the Blue, Red, and Orange Rings are "powerhouses". All the others should lack Super-Strength or Impervious Toughness. This ring makes you psychic, essentially. Mind Reading, Mental Communication, Mind Control, Emotion Control, and Mental Blasts are the name of the game here. I would say average Flight, putting it above Orange or Red or Violet, and even with Yellow, but not as fast as Blue or Green. Also some ESP would not be amiss. Complications would involve, essentially, doing things "for their own good", with a bit of "ends justify the means". Violet Ring Location and/or User unknown (aka I haven't thought them up yet, but it's Out there Somewhere). Finally, the Healer Ring. This one, along with Yellow and Green, is more of a "support" role. While those 2 are "debuff" and "buff", this one is Heal. So, obviously, no Super-Strength or Impervious Toughness. Enhanced Con definitely fits. A Healing power or powers are rather obviously in tune. Beyond that, some Move Object limited to Water, and a Ranged Damage that's fluffed as water or Ice being thrown around. Possibly a little Create Object limited to water constructs (pull moisture from the air). Complications might include issues with becoming obsessed with people (which could sort of overlap with how protectiveness could go bad, but not entirely). This ring provides exactly as much clothing for user as the others, and if anyone ever tries to use this ring for stripperific outfits I will beat you with the Empire State Building.