[X] My Assistant

[Gorgon]

Hero - Skillet

I'm just a step away
I'm just a breath away
Losin' my faith today
(Fallin' off the edge today)

I am just a man
Not superhuman
(I'm not superhuman)
Someone save me from the hate

It's just another war
Just another family torn
(Falling from my faith today)
Just a step from the edge
Just another day in the world we live

I need a hero to save me now
I need a hero (save me now)
I need a hero to save my life
A hero'll save me (just in time)

I've gotta fight today
To live another day
Speakin' my mind today
(My voice will be heard today)

I've gotta make a stand
But I am just a man
(I'm not superhuman)
My voice will be heard today

It's just another war
Just another family torn
(My voice will be heard today)
It's just another kill
The countdown begins to destroy ourselves

I need a hero to save my life
I need a hero just in time
Save me just in time
Save me just in time

Who's gonna fight for what's right?
Who's gonna help us survive?
We're in the fight of our lives
And we're not ready to die

Who's gonna fight for the weak?
Who's gonna make 'em believe?
I've got a hero (I've got a hero)
Livin' in me

I'm gonna fight for what's right
Today I'm speaking my mind
And if it kills me tonight
I will be ready to die

A hero's not afraid to give his life
A hero's gonna save me just in time

I need a hero
Who's gonna fight for what's right?
Who's gonna help us survive?

I need a hero
Who's gonna fight for the weak?
Who's gonna make 'em believe?
I need a hero
I need a hero

A hero's gonna save me just in time...

Welcome, one and all! This is a marvelous roleplay hosted by yours truly, Gorgon! And the crowd goes wild wondering how to sign up!
*crickets*
Or maybe not. Anyway, this is a roleplay being held between myself and the ever-charming Shadow Dragon! Applause for our lovely friend!
And I mean it no crickets this time.
But before you click away from the RP, dismissing it as another cool 1x1 you can't get in on, let it be known that you too can participate!
"But Gorgon, if it's a 1x1, how can we be in it?"
Good question, Continuity Voice! What you can do is fill out the forms below to the best of your ability and post them so Shadow Dragon and I can ab/use them ourselves! A novel concept, amirite?
*more crickets*
I need to call pest control... Now then! How does it work, you're wondering? Well read on to find out!

.:MMM DAT PLOT:.
Consider our world just as it is; history, leaders, events... It's all the same.
Now throw in superheroes.
Awww yeaaah.
As is word of God, New York is a hotbed of super activity. It is home to some of the strongest heroes and vilest villains the earth has ever had the dis/pleasure of knowing. Heroes great and small (Heatwave! The Major! The White Raj!) protect a defenseless population and in turn are adored and idolized. On the opposite side of the spectrum are villains, (Doctor Freud! Death Metal! Mucking Faster!) who are hated and feared. Villains abhor heroes and all they stand for, feeling wronged by society. Heroes are vastly outnumbered, but manage to stave off the criminal doings efficiently. Things seemed balanced in their favor.
Until they began to disappear.
No one was quite sure who was doing it, why, or how. Heroes, running dry on leads and low on manpower, drew the conclusion that some villain was behind it. Villains were quick to blame heroes, for even the evildoers were being abducted; they were sure those pompous do-gooders were behind it- who else would be able to so stealthily kidnap the most dangerous of super criminals?
As time passes, more and more begin to disappear with nary a hint as to who or what could be up to the act. Heroes are knitting close together, villains are becoming paranoid. Friendships and partnerships have been torn apart, and there's no telling when it will stop. And the civilians, they're just thinking "Hey, so-and-so's been out of action for a while."
Now, two new heroes and villains are making a break into the business, being taken under the wing of veterans, all hoping there is some way to end this and save the missing.
If you are wishing to participate in this roleplay, you will play a seasoned hero or villain who may or may not have been abducted. Gorgon has a plan, don't you worry...

.:AYE YO USE THESE TO SIGN UP:.
Please fill these forms in to the best of your abilities. The bigger they are, the more likely we are to use them.

Username:
Name: (Bonus points if it alliterates, like Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, or Reed Richard)
Alias: (Hero/Villain Codename, such as the Hulk, Spider-man, or Mr. Fantastic)
Gender: (Whatever floats yer boat. Sexuality goes here too I guess)
Age: (Can range from mid-teens to whenever. Geriatric supers? Totally okay.)
Alignment: (Hero? Villain? Neutral? Depends?)
Abducted? (Yes or no. I'd suggest yes; I don't want the scales to be too tipped in the favor of the protagonists.)
Appearance: (Pictures are greatly appreciated, and a super suit is mandatory, whether it's trench coat or spandex. The better the description, the better it'll be in the RP.)
Personality: (Please, please, please, for the love of Stan Lee fill this out as much as possible. What is their disposition? Do they enjoy working with other heroes/villains? When they fight, do they think things through or rush in headfirst? Details, people.)
Biography: (A bare outline is totally acceptable. Your character isn't going to launch into a lengthy speech about this- unless they actually do that as part of their personality. Ex: "I don't cry. I lost my tear ducts in the war." The only thing that's mandatory is how they gained/discovered their powers. If you want to mention other supers that have no forms and are just for continuity's sake, please do, but make sure if you use another User's super you have express permission from them. Since I realize it's not easy to BS where a super suit came from, feel free to use the NPC called Vogue, who's basically the Edna Mode of this universe. Or just don't mention it. )
Powers: (No OP characters, but please do note that I consider super strength, speed, stamina, reflexes, and durability a given. Most heroes have them and they are considered quite plain. In fact, I'll consider your character weaker if they don't have them. If we think these are overboard, however, you'll be asked to cut them. Please do not submit multiple characters with the same powers.)
Relationships: (Do they have a family? A partner in crime/heroics? What do they think of the other heroes/villains? Make sure you have express permission from the respective character's owner before putting something big like a lover or nemesis in for them. Something plain like "[Insert Hero's name] is a big fan of the Jade Dragon." is completely fine though.)
Other: (Anything else?)

If there is anything you don't understand, please do not hesitate to ask Shadow Dragon, who is in charge until I return from Band Camp on August 16th. Since I am unaware of the camp's wifi situation, assume I am out of commission until then. I will have my iPod though, and God knows I'll take any distraction to slack on my music… Anyway!

.:ROLEPLAYERS DON'T KNOW 'BOUT MY RULES:.
-Shady and I call the shots here. If one of us says it, it's law. We say "jump", you say "But I'm on the computer, how will you know if I did it or not?" We reply "Oh, we'll know. Trust us." And then you do it just to be safe.
-All GTS+ rules apply, yo
-Gary Stus and Mary Sues will be fed to Fin Fang Foom. Look him up.
-This is a private RP where you send in characters for Shadow Dragon and I to ab/use. If you post in the topic, you will be ignored and reprimanded.
-Be nice to everyone. Hating is lame.
-Feel free to chat about the plot and ideas around here. Don't be shy. You don't even have to send in a character; just pop in and say hi if you want.
-That being said, don't spam.
-Things around here will be PG-16, which means descriptive violence and possible romance that really won't go that far before we put a cap on it. It's not Saw, and it's not porn. It's superheroes and stuff like that.
-My favorite way to sign off on letters and roleplays is the same way the patron saint of superheroes, Stan Lee, does: "Excelsior!" Stick that somewhere in your form to have it accepted.
-I don't really care for a character limit; since you won't be posting, feel free to submit as many as you like. But again, don't submit too many heroes/villains with the same powers. Ex: Try not to submit any more heroes/villains with metal manipulation, since we already have one with that power.

So, you like my idea, yet you still don't fully understand it? Not a problem. I'll explain as best I can right here:
So Shadow Dragon and I are doing a superhero roleplay together. We wanted it to be a 1x1, but you obviously can't have a New York with only six heroes and villains for this plot to work, and neither of us wanted to make a bunch of profiles. So I was like, "Why not have other RPers send in characters for us to use?" This way we can see all their info and neither of us will be left in the dark about what heroes/villains we're employing.
You make a character like you would in any other RP, but you do not post as them. Shadow Dragon and I will use them as we see fit. Some will be used more than others. It's like a Hunger Games fanfiction where you send in your own tribute for the Hunger Games and the author writes about them. Believe it or not, these are common and popular. It's sort of like donating a character to poor, underprivileged RPers. Plus you get to see what we write about them!
You can stick around as long as you like to read what Shadow Dragon and I post and watch what we do with your characters. It'll be great fun, I assure you. If we manage to royally screw your character up, you are totally allowed to tell us off. The RP mainly centers on our characters anyway, and the character development that they undergo.
**To ensure there is no confusion as to how your character looks or acts, we respectfully request you fill the forms out to the very best of your ability**
Thanks for checking this out!

.:THESE GUYS CAN HANG (ACCEPTED CHARACTERS):.
Shadow Dragon and I have been incredibly lazy with our forms because it's our roleplay and everything will be elaborated on in the first post and those following, as this RP is largely based on character dynamics. Do as we say, not as we do. Once I return from Band Camp this will be updated with all accepted forms. Please note that I must also be in agreement for the acceptance of a character; likewise with Shadow Dragon.

Name: Dawn Wilson
Codename: Prima Donna
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Alignment: N00b Hero
Appearance Outline: Hair: Light brown. Worn loose/in a ponytail when she's out and about, up in a bun with two curled strands that hang down when she's Prima Donna.
Eyes: Light blue
Skin tone: Slightly tan.
Build: Slim, impressive calves, minimal bust.
Normally wears: Depends on the occasion. If she's lying around, sweat pants and T-shirt/sweater. If she's in public, skinny jeans, graphic tees, dress shirts, converse, or sandals.
When Prima Donna: Black bodice studded with numerous tiny white rhinestones; black romantic ballet tutu (hangs limp, not stiff like the classical). Black pointe shoes with shiny black ribbons wrapping up her calves. Nude mesh tights made by Vogue (see Bio) are ultra durable. Black domino mask which flares outward like a bird's wings and transition gradually from black to white. Black choker with a white gem inlaid.

Personality Outline: A bit shy and timid in new situations, but not averse to making friends. She's easily intimidated by appearances. Dawn dislikes making a big scene and embarrassing herself, especially around people she doesn't know. Once you break through her demure exterior, however, she's a ball of energy and loves to have fun and just goof off. She's incredibly serious about her ballet, though, and dislikes people who mistreat others just because they can. Dawn will rely heavily on outside help when starting a new project, at least until she's entirely sure she can handle things on her own. She can be quite feisty when it comes down to it, and if she decides to be stubborn then you're gonna have a hard time convincing her otherwise.
Positive Traits: Cheerful, Outgoing, Tolerant, Energetic.
Negative Traits: Stubborn, a bit Judgmental, Dependent,
occasionally whiny.

History Outline: Dawn's older brother, Evan, is an accomplished choir teacher at a NY high school. He was a singer from the day he was born, and the way Dawn screamed as a child, her parents guessed she would be as well. But singing was very difficult for her to accomplish. She just couldn't get on pitch and her tone was horrendous. So she took up ballet instead. She seemed built for the delicate art, and could easily support herself en pointe with incredibly minimal effort. It would be a time longer before she discovered her sonic voice; when she did, it would be while home alone, thankfully. Needless to say, this development frightened Dawn. The person she turned to was her brother, who she hoped would understand.
Now, it just so happens that Evan's best bro for life (no homo), Kyle, had recently become a hero after a little stint involving genetic tampering, becoming the superheroic Major. Evan passed the news on to him, and he was immediately keen on the idea of initiating her into herodom, as they were always looking for more helping hands.
Dawn had a 'big brother's best friend' little kid crush on him, but that only served to make things a bit awkward on the car ride when he picked her up. He was excited to have her accept the offer, and assured her that the other heroes were fun and interesting, and that they would help her adjust to things. He took her to a super suit designer who went by the name of Vogue, who measured her and had her demonstrate her powers, which she'd learned included super speed and strength (cliché as it may seem, they did the 'drop the car' test to discover the latter). Vogue also talked with her about her hobbies and interests. As Kyle drove her back home, he explained that Vogue was capable of making even the most mundane of clothes ultraresistant and stylish as well. She had been the one who made his drum major guise for his hero alter-ego. Kyle reassured her that she'd have friends within the group, even if it was only him.
Dawn was alarmed when she learned of the Major's disappearance, but remained determined to stick to her decision. She is set to move in with her brother and attend a local college while learning the new superhero trade.
And she still can't sing.

Powers: -Super speed and strength, neither to any excess though. She is incredibly agile, frequently seeming weightless, and always appearing inhumanly graceful.
-Sonic voice: Can shatter glass with ease, causes intense pain and disorientation in most, though those with auditory immunity are unaffected. The higher the pitch and more sensitive the hearing, the more damage it does.
Other: I was talking to UmbranSage about this character, and after I told him about the sonic voice, he suggested the codename "Ban-She." Many lols were had. Also, ballerina character because I'm not a part of this system.

Name: Chiang Xao-Ming
Codename: the Jade Dragon
Gender: Male
Age: 33
Alignment: Hero
Appearance Outline: I was going to do the lame outline like everyone else had, but I feel as if I couldn't nail it. So here's a nice big appearance for kicks and giggles.
Chiang has a very powerful and intimidating impression, standing taller than most at six foot seven. Every inch is packed with muscle and he definitely looks like one you wouldn't want to cross, lest he throw you through a wall. His default expression is very serious, but recently has become more brooding. He can appear to be glowering, and frequently does, but he doesn't have a clue how intense he usually looks. One could know him for weeks without seeing him smile once, but whenever he speaks it's undoubtedly important. His voice is rather controlled, and a bit quiet. His accent is incredibly mellow, suggesting he's trained to get rid of it. There is one thing, however, that detracts from his intimidating expression; his cheeks are rather pudgy, for no real reason besides that's his facial structure. You do not, however, talk about this. It's one of those things everyone is aware of but completely ignores because they have no clue how he'll react.
Chiang is Chinese in case you haven't guessed it yet, meaning his skin tone is very fair with a slight yellow undertone. He has eye folds as in accord with his ethnicity. His eyes are a deep, dull black, very similar to coal. His lips are thin, and have frowning as their default setting. While his cheeks are rounded, his other features (nose, jaw, even ears) are strong and firm. His hair is black, and would brush his shoulders if he didn't keep it up in a topknot.

Personality Outline: On the outside Chiang is a very conserved individual, especially when it comes to words and facial expressions. Someone could be spilling out their heart and life story to him and he'd remain as impassive as a cliff face, and just as foreboding. His silence is also sometimes mistaken for stupidity; while it's true he lacks formal education, is a slow reader, and does not have the ability to sense what people are feeling right out, he is no fool and can display much forethought. That being said, if he's thrown a surprise he has a bit of difficulty adjusting his plans accordingly. Chiang can frequently forget just how intense he looks, and if he's accused for glowering at someone he's probably just in thought. If he were angry at you, you'd know.
Truly, Chiang is a gentle and pacifistic spirit who dislikes meaningless violence and has a kind heart. He just doesn't know how to show it. He's actually very shy when not around Armand, the White Raj, and unsure of how to communicate with others. He comes across as blunt and perhaps a bit dull, but if you get to know him he is a loyal and constant friend.
Chiang is still a bit leery on using his powers, and is always haunted by the fear he'll lose control once again.
After Armand's abduction, he has become quite more taciturn and surly, even being known to snap at others when upset. He doesn't want to, but he's just afraid for his partner's safety and is missing him sorely.
Positive Traits: Loyal, Peaceful, Determined, Largely accepting.
Negative Traits: Blunt, Shy, Reticent, Borderline possessive.

History Outline: Chiang was born in a remote rural village in a mountainous portion of China. At birth, a destructive spirit known as the Jade Dragon began instill itself inside him; this spirit was incredibly destructive, with a thirst to ravage and ruin everything in its path for no true purpose. Try as he might with varying techniques (including meditation and exorcism) the dragon could not be expelled, and so his village had no choice but to imprison him. The parents were long since resigned to the fact their son could not be "cured" and went along with this. At this time he was roughly fifteen. Over the next three years he stewed over his imprisonment, largely under the control of the Jade Dragon. He knew they locked him up because they were afraid. They thought he had a problem. They treated him like he had a disease and wasn't fit to be a part of society and he hated them all. And it was when this hate reached its focal point, the village, that the Dragon gained full control and tore loose its chains. The eighteen-year-old young man proceeded to level the entire village in the mountains and slaughter the entire population. Chiang could only watch himself do these things- he was powerless to stop the Dragon. He couldn't regain control, and he didn't, not for ten years. Ten years were spent staking the mountains out as his territory, killing anyone who dared pass through and slaughtering animals with his bare hands. Sometimes he felt lucid, like he could almost control his actions- and all he experienced was remorse and resignation. He wanted to throw himself into a river or against sharp rocks and just end it, end it all. How else could he stop the monster he was?
Now, at this time an Indian the age of twenty-six was making a trip to China. He went by his surname, Armand. His parents were very wealthy; his birth father had died when he was an infant, and his mother married a rich white man. His parents expected him to go into the medical profession, and he had duped them into thinking he had. But in reality his doctorate was in Theater. He entertained them with the illusion he was studying medicine, and they never knew otherwise. Not only was he an actor, he had powerful connections to the Hindu gods of old, and by using their powers could accomplish great feats of magic. But Armand's parents had both taken ill, and it was serious; there was only one thing that could possibly save them: a plant rumored to grow deep in the mountains of China with intense healing power. Armand couldn't hope to save them with his own magics, he needed the plant. And he would do anything to save his parents.
Now it so happened their paths crossed, as I'm not one to introduce a character for no reason in the middle of a Bio that's supposed to be brief. When Chiang first saw this stranger in white, he happened to be in an excruciatingly bad mood. In his mind he was begging the stranger to run and never come back in the vain hope he could survive, but the Dragon had other designs. He saw another man come to lock him away, and promptly ripped the claws Chiang had across his temple and down his face. He'd shattered skulls with less and was entirely sure Armand was dead. But no, Chiang and the Dragon both watched as the wounds healed themselves and the man stood and smirked at them. Chiang knew he was in trouble when that smirk was the most dazzling thing he'd seen. But he wasn't in control, and even though by now he was screaming in his head, the Dragon was going to kill Armand. As he struck again, the Indian said something in foreign- his home language, Chiang was guessing- and a white translucent seal etched with a lotus enveloped him, protecting him. Now smiling, Armand said another phrase and white petals began to materialize. Before Chiang blacked out, he heard a lyrical voice: "Goodnight."
When he awoke, the moon was up. There was a fire going and he hadn't moved ten feet from where he fell. And neither had Armand, who sat across from him, on the fire's other side. A bit of confusion ensued, during which Chiang discovered he had once again gained control of his body. But he was incredibly wary of the Indian stranger and wanted nothing more than to get away from him, if only because he feared a lapse in his self-control. Armand, however, was quite insistent they stay together- he'd purposely sought Chiang out because he knew the Chinese man would know the location of the herb his parents needed to live. When asked if Armand knew whether or not he would be able to stop Chiang from killing him, Armand's answer was "No." With a bright white smile.
In the long run, they decided to travel together, Armand swearing to leave after they found what he was looking for. Chiang wasn't sure why Armand needed him around; even though he wasn't a physically strong man, he was intelligent and could accomplish much with his magic, summoning and healing being as easy as one-two-three.
Long story short, the duo ran into a cult determined to "protect" the secrets of the herb and other supernatural dealings of the orient; what they were really doing was hoarding the real deal and pawning a drug derivative of it. Chiang and Armand developed a deep trust during the fight against the group, and ultimately defeated them. It was only after Armand had obtained the medicine and just contacted a pilot that he learned his parents had died. They died thinking their son was a doctor and searching for their cure, obstinately optimistic that he could save them. Armand was entirely broken, but a deal was a deal. He left China, as promised, returning to his manse in India. Chiang, for a reason he didn't quite understand, felt guilty and sympathetic, and couldn't stand to see his best and only friend in the world in such a state. He went with Armand, which seemed to give the man some comfort.
Life there retained hints of being incredibly opulent, but Armand had fired all staff and servants upon his parents' death, and much of the first few weeks were preoccupied with funeral arrangements. After that was over and done with, Chiang tried his hardest to return Armand to his old self, and slowly succeeded. The two learned much more about each other, and since Chiang couldn't speak Hindi, only Chinese, there weren't many other people for him to socialize with. Armand could speak numerous tongues through a gift from Ganesh, (whom Chiang understood to be a man with an elephant's head on a rat for some reason he couldn't place) but was no longer half as outgoing as he had been. Armand had, however secured a few job openings in varying countries; a few in Europe, one in New York, another in Brazil. He was going to screw it and just pick the closest when he saw a news flash heralding the debut of superheroes Heatwave and Coldsnap, a pair of twins in New York. Then, after the longest time, Chiang saw that excited light in his eyes- and he knew that was where he was headed next. Oddly... He didn't care. As long as they were together, it seemed, nothing was insurmountable.
A quick pack, Rosetta Stone for English, and several calls to the right people later the pair was off for NY, and a new manse outside the capital's limits. It wasn't disagreeable at all to Chiang, and neither was the idea of using his "gifts" to help people instead of mindlessly hurting, though he was still nervous about the notion of losing control. Next on the list was a visit to the scrupulous Vogue (who had contacted them, interestingly enough) before the two were fully kitted out to make their mark on the super world.
Their first caper went surprisingly well. It so happened that Heatwave and Coldsnap were failing to handle the assail on Grand Central Station by the Monkey's Paw, a band of villains, very well; it was the perfect opportunity for the duo to burst in and aid them as the newly-christened White Raj and Jade Dragon. They caught like fire to dead leaves, and the super twins were relieved to have some help in the crime-ridden city. The Jade Dragon quickly became known for his amazing strength and preference to save and protect citizens rather than chase after a villain, and the White Raj for his roguish and clever ways.
Armand was captured on the way home from a rehearsal, and Chiang has found himself much more restless in his home. Frankly, he's frustrated and scared for his partner's safety, and unsure how to handle people without him.
And yes they're gay. #sorrynotsorry

Powers: -Superhuman strength and invulnerability especially. He has no super speed, and is actually quite slow compared to many other heroes and villains. He's strong enough that he has to take caution when opening doors or closing them, and in a fit of anger/emotion can be very destructive without knowing.
-Chiang is capable of spitting dark green flame that water cannot extinguish; it must be smothered, and cannot burn anything that is not living flesh.
-It is possible for him to provoke the Jade Dragon spirit to draw power from it, turning him into a fiercer, much more destructive, being. The only real differences are his eyes, which go from straight black to emerald green and slitted, and the fact he grows claws and loses much of his conscious. Without the White Raj to aid him in containing the spirit, he would never take the risk of using it.
Other: Nope.

Name: Maxwell Merritt (Now there is a hero name)
Codename: Heatwave
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Alignment: Hero! (Yes, with an exclamation mark)
Appearance Outline: Hair: Ginger, large, loose curls on his head.
Eyes: Brown.
Skin Tone: Pale with freckles.
Build: Lean, a little tall for his age.
Usually wears: Shorts (either court or cargo), t-shirts, v-necks.
When Heatwave: Huzzah for spandex. Heatwave wears black goggles with orange lenses and black fingerless gloves. The palms of these gloves are orange and glow to varying levels of brightness. The black top he wears is short-sleeved and skintight. The collar of the shirt is orange, and orange lines travel down the sleeves and down the middle of the shirt. His pants are tight and black as well, with orange lines running down the sides. The black boots he wears have three stripes across the tops each, and the soles are silver and made of metal (See Powers).

Personality Outline: Max loves to just hang out and have fun, and can be at home most anywhere. He's a regular teenage boy; he likes eating, roughhousing, and bragging. He's definitely got his fair share of swagger, and isn't afraid to get in the face of someone who's bigger and badder. He's actually very intelligent, but he has poor judgment and makes hasty choices. He can be pretty spontaneous, but usually his twin (who is the exact opposite) keeps him from going too overboard. Still, Max is a friendly and boisterous young man who thinks he can handle more than he actually can. He's a bit of a Casanova as well, and enjoys just wasting time.
Positive Traits: Clever, Outgoing, Humorous,
Negative Traits: Hotheaded, Rash, easily swayed by his own moods, a trifle Impudent.

History Outline: Maxwell and his fraternal twin, Noah, are the only children of the late scientific magnates Thomas and Marie Merritt, a married couple who devoted much of their time and energy to their research. Thomas' area of expertise was thermodynamics, and his wife's was mechanical engineering. By their powers combined came several inventions great and small, and the two had quickly formed a multi-billion-dollar firm. Ultimately, the couple's prosperity and dedication to their jobs would be their undoing; one day while working on a groundbreaking device designed to achieve absolute zero, while their mother worked on the heat containment unit, their father worked on stabilizing the temperature chamber. The twins (hardly even toddlers) were in a playpen in the corner, Max watching and giving a delighted shriek whenever something lit up, and Noah stacking blocks busily. However, their mother called out when something began to go awry- not enough coolant in the system, was that it?- and distracted their father, who, it was discovered, hit a switch too early in said distraction. The entire mechanism exploded, bathing the room in temperature energy, which is a thing now. Both parents died, but, miraculously, the children survived.
Many tests were run, but nothing seemed wrong with the twins. They were scared and orphaned, but otherwise unharmed. They had no aunts or uncles, but they did have a substantial fortune on their hands. The two were left to their grandparents, then, until a time would come when they could take over their parents' work. The twins were fortunate enough to grow up knowing their parents loved them and didn't turn bitter but instead followed their parents' passion.
After a corporate scheme attempting to gridlock the two out of taking back the company that they should've inherited, Max and Noah learned about their powers. While Max could generate heat and even flame, his brother got the other end of the spectrum: frigid temperatures and ice. The two toiled to fashion devices that helped them catalyze and use their powers at full potential, becoming superheroes to fight off mercenary hands after their properties.
Their identities are public, and they have many fans. Max loves the publicity, Noah does not. Noah was captured in one of the rare instances the twins are apart, and Max hasn't been as upbeat since.

Powers: -Due to the accident, Max gained control over heat. His body is constantly generating superhuman amounts of high temperatures, to the point where he can radiate warmth. He focuses this heat and can force it to manifest as visible waves or as flames, as well as fire compressed bursts of it from his gloves.
-In addition to the constant generation of heat energy, Max comes equipped with a tech toy of his own design: a black-and-orange skateboard-shaped hover pad that latches onto his boots and is powered by his heat generation. A flaw in this design is that the board leaves a traceable-by-radar heat trail, though it can fly quite fast.
-His goggles come equipped with a HUD-like interface and thermal radar. The scanners are largely controlled by his eye movements.
Other: His brother's color scheme substitutes orange for blue- brace yourselves for a multitude of 'thinking with portals' jokes.

Name: Brandon Cliffe
Codename: Riftwalker
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Alignment: N00b villain
Appearance Outline: Build: Average height (5' 10"), trim stature, very handsome features.
Hair: Flaxen blond and cut short, sticks up in a cowlick near his right temple.
Eyes: Dull blue.
Usually wears: Jeans and a short array of shirts, most commonly. He has a very limited wardrobe consisting of a few t-shirts and hoodies, one polo, and three pairs of jeans.
When Riftwalker: Purplish gray spandex as a base, with a silver belt, silver boots buttoned on the side, and silver gauntlets. His cape is white and a golden plates secure the garment to his shoulders; a chain of the same color connects sides. The cape is hooded. Riftwalker's cowl is the mostly same purple-gray as his spandex, with the exception of an indigo triangle spreading from above both eyes down his nose. On his chest he wears an 'X' of the same color.

Personality Outline: Very reserved and quiet, but also intelligent and clever. He's a bit resigned to being ignored and shoved to the side, so he doesn't object to it. He can be a bit too passive, and let people walk over him, but if he loses his temper than he'll fight, and well. He doesn't have many friends, or any, really, but if he did than he'd try to treat them well, but would still come across as a bit cold and uncaring. He's very sneaky, and he uses his ability to go unnoticed well. Riftwalker works best alone, but can adapt to a group setting if need be. He can be rather reclusive, and refuse to socialize with others for long periods of time only to go crawling back.
Positive Traits: Intelligent, Clever, Resourceful, Independent
Negative Traits: Passive, Shy, Insensitive, Asocial

History Outline: Brandon was put up for adoption when born, but has had no success with foster families. He was first adopted at the age of five by a wonderful young couple, and was overjoyed. He loved them already and they loved him. He fell asleep readily his first night at there house, dreaming of the new life he would have.
He woke up on the front steps of the institution for foster kids. No one knew how he got there, least of all him. He was found by the frightened parents and asked why he had ran away. He told them he hadn't, and the story checked out; the couple's house was still locked and there was no way a five year-old could walk that far or long, in his sleep or not. Troubled, the couple took him back home, only for the phenomenon to occur twice more. After the third time, he was returned to the institution and there he stayed. He was a confused young boy, and he had no clue what he'd done wrong, if it was even his fault. Brandon was never adopted again. He knew that couple had told people, their friends, the adults in charge, and now everyone who thought about adopting him was told and they didn't want a freak who disappeared, they wanted a good little boy or girl to make them happy. It was then Brandon began to isolate himself, even going so far as to hide when couples came to look for children to adopt. No one stopped him.
The first time Brandon teleported was in the seventh grade. At school, he had a few friends, though he was still considered a bit of a loner. Despite this, he was quite the handsome young man and had many girls vying for his favor. He treated them with a casual sort of aloofness that only infatuated them even more. This soon came to an end. During a science test Brandon began to experience an intense headache. He wanted to scream and beat his head on the desk- then, suddenly, it was gone.
So was the school. Brandon was outside, in the middle of the recess field, which was empty. He had no clue what had happened- until it came back to him. Waking up on the stairs as a child. Then he knew he could do this. He could go from one place to another instantaneously, he could teleport. God, how the thought excited him. Until it didn't. Imagine the teacher's surprise when she looked up to see she was missing a student. Word of this incident traveled like wildfire, and suddenly Brandon was an outcast at school, too. Suddenly his excitement was fear, suddenly he was shunned and ignored by teacher and student alike.
It wasn't long until teenage hormones turned the fear to hate. Students had gotten over the shock and were now angered at him, for no reason than he was different. He tried to deny it, said he'd snuck out repeatedly after telling the teacher and class otherwise, tried to do anything to make them think he hadn't teleported out. Rumors began to circulate, and Brandon was soon the object of bullying. He never fought back against his aggressors, even if he did run. In public he'd vehemently deny any ability but in private he would always try to teleport. To the roof, to the backyard, even across the room- and he could, though if he tried too hard he'd get a headache. It came easier over time, and he soon began to resent the fact he was ostracized for this ability. It was something great, why were they so against him? He would be a hero one day, he just knew it.
So Brandon held on. He held on until his senior year in high school. He was still an outsider, but not bullied near as much as he used to have been. As long as he kept his head down and didn't speak too loudly, he'd be ignored. It so happened that this year his school's football team went undefeated, an event that hadn't taken place in almost a decade. Brandon, like so many others, was at the final game of the season and cheered along with everyone. He was glad to see it happen. But the cheerful night quickly turned sour afterward.
Brandon was walking through the parking lot, on his way home, when he ran smack into the captain of the football team. This was a time after the game was over, and many students were still milling about, most with illicit party substances, celebrating. Brandon had been watching the senior band members stand around and play their songs, old and new, by memory, until he decided it was time to leave. Teleporting in the open wouldn't be wise, so he'd planned on slinking somewhere out of the way.
The quarterback was obviously drunk. Really, really drunk. This became obvious after he slurred/spat something about watching where he was going. Brandon murmured an apology, not meeting his clouded eyes.
"Ohh, yeah. You're that freak." He said, grinning. The team captain swayed a bit as he lurched forward. "Why don' you just disappear, freak?"
Brandon's voice caught in his throat and the wild thought he could just teleport away crossed his mind. But he didn't, and instead said to him, "No."
"What?"
Oh, god.
The football player decked Brandon, drunk but still leagues stronger than the other. Brandon landed hard on his backside, his left eye already beginning to swell. He stood, growing angrier. A crowd had begun to gather, and was circling around them. Brandon stood, ringed in with the intoxicated young man. He was now strongly considering teleporting away, despite the crowd. That wouldn't happen, though. The band was still playing idly in the distance, and the jock was being cheered by the other students of varying levels of sobriety. He pounced on Brandon again, holding him by the front of his shirt. He was growling something, but Brandon couldn't understand; there was currently blood pounding through his ears. He wanted this man off him, he wanted out. So he tried to teleport.
There was a flash of dull gray-purple and the jock flew to the ground. His chest had been cleaved open, and Brandon wore his blood now. Gore spattered on the ground and he was gone before the first girl even shrieked. Brandon just stood and stared at the mess that was on the ground, on him, the half-eviscerated football player, the students running away, shouting and screaming. And the band still playing in the distance.
Brandon teleported away and he knew he couldn't be a hero. Not now. He'd just killed a man. Police would be after him. People would know. But they couldn't catch him. Not now, not ever. The tables had turned and now he had no choice but to hide. The thought of spending the rest of his life in some remote middle-of-nowhere were depressing and he hated them but what else could he do? Except… he'd done it. Killed a man and, surprisingly, he felt little concern for him or the family. He wasn't sorry. That meant there was no going back. He wouldn't be caught, but he wasn't going to run like some startled animal. He'd done enough running as a child. Now he'd fight, but not as a hero. As a villain.

Powers: Spatial Manipulation- Riftwalker can distort space around him; at current level, he can manage teleporting and opening rifts that lead from one place to another for transporting more than one person to travel through. He can also use the spatial tears as cutting implements, a sort of sword to slice through air and flesh.
Premonitory Sense- Similar to the Spider-sense. Very much so, actually. The danger it registers could be immediate or not, and he's not always certain of which it is.
Other: Nope.

Name: Nicolas Russet
Codename: Death Metal
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Alignment: F@&k-the-system Villain
Appearance Outline: Build: Lean, stands at 5' 9" and a half.
Complexion: Ashen, nearly grey, with dark rings under his eyes, very thin lips. Nicolas has silver snakebites, and rods in the folds of both his ears, along with varying other ear piercings. His tongue is pierced as well.
Hair: Black, limp; in need of a wash. Just brushes his ears, and is largely ignored by its owner.
Eyes: Very dark brown.
Wears: Black sleeveless muscle top, grey pants with chain belt. It's a literal chain he uses as a belt. His pants are torn and scuffed here and there. Black combat boots. He wears a beaten silver ring on each finger, and a bullet around his neck, threaded with wire.
His axe is both senses of the word; a guitar and an axe. It has all the trappings of a standard electric guitar, but the body is shaped like an axehead, and the entire thing is made of metal. It's also a fair bit larger than your standard guitar, and weighs a great deal.

Personality Outline: As stated in his alignment, Death Metal rather does what he likes. He's a bit lazy for a villain, but when he does do something illegal, it's clever and well-planned. He has a higher success rate than one would guess when it comes to crime. He despises the law enforcement officers, and is known to kill them outright if they approach him. He is this way toward heroes, though more indirectly; he'll conduct witty banter with them while striking viciously and without remorse. With other villains, it's a different matter; he has a magnetic charm about him that disarms others, and he comes across as magnanimous and upbeat. He loves to poke fun at everyone and everything, and is treated much like a favorite jester by most, albeit one that could kill you easily. If anything he's a dashing young rogue, with just the right amount of familiarity, charm, and wittiness to make him well-loved, and the proper portions of danger and volatility to make him well-feared when angry.
Positive Traits: Lax, Friendly, Tolerant, Humorous
Negative Traits: Moody, Detached, Violent, Angst-y

History Outline: Nicolas is the only child of a, uh, lady of the night. This being established, she was single and rather poor. The two lived above a bar and his mother worked two jobs. Some nights she would work the curb, others she would bartend or perform onstage. She was a hardworking mother who did everything she had to in order to provide for her son, forget morals, forget reputations. Young Nicolas was never allowed downstairs once the bar opened, and sated himself with watching out the window as patrons would stagger from the back door into the alley and away into the night. He was too young to understand most of what he saw, but he knew what murder and mugging looked like very early on in life. Some nights he would climb the fire escape to the top of the building and stare at the city that never slept, none of which he'd ever seen. He barely left their small upstairs apartment, except for school, where teachers pitied him but never helped the struggling student.
When Nicolas was twelve, he saw his mother being dragged out the back door to the alley. He hopped out the window, confused as to what was happening. He'd long since mastered climbing all over the unsafe metal, and it had always supported him. In fact, it nearly clung to him itself. He watched three men corner his mother and start shoving her back and forth. She was crying about something, and the men were angry. It was something about them owing her. If that were the case, why wasn't it the other way around? But they were all bigger than her, and she was outnumbered. Nicolas was very confused, until he saw the apparent leader of them pull out a gun. Then a strange sort of resolve encased his fear and confusion, a kind he hadn't felt before. He was still unsure of what to do though- and looking back, he if he'd had thought to move, or do something his mother would've lived. But young Nicolas watched them shoot his mother, watched them turn hastily and run into the expansive night, leaving her there. Only after they were gone did he jump down the fire escape and fall to his knees before his dying mother. She only had enough time left to look up at her son before she was gone.
Nicolas wept. He was angry and frustrated and sad, he should've known what they were going to do, he should've done something, got someone, but instead he'd stood there like an idiot and watched it all happen. While he knelt there in all that blood and tears, the bullet worked itself free of her heart and body. Nicolas watched it drop next to him, heard the cold clink it made, and knew what he would do.
It was at this point the owner of the bar came out back to investigate. Nicolas grabbed the bullet. He didn't know the boy had it. All he knew was that there was a dead whore behind his bar and he wasn't responsible. Not that the police cared. It was a dead prostitute, this was New York City, and with superpowered lunatics on the loose they didn't have time for things such as this. Nicolas began to turn bitter then. Nobody had even called child services about him. He was a whore's son, no one cared. His mother may've been a hooker but she had cared about her son, and only wanted the best for him. Nicolas realized that society didn't care about him, or his mother, or their conditions. They saw all of them through a veil of prejudice and if they didn't care, why should he?
Nicolas spent the next several days walking through the city slums, largely lost, with nothing but the clothes on his back and the bullet in his pocket. He knew nothing of the thugs, who they were, or where they'd gone. But he was going to find them- and he did, roughing up some man or another. As he stood in the mouth of the alley, they didn't see him until they were done and the man dead. Of course they recognized him- all the barflies knew him and many liked him, hiding him under their tables whenever he snuck down, but his mother always found him.
"It's the brat." One said.
Nicolas said nothing in reply.
Many "Scram, kid"s were said. These were busy men, they had a full night of being the dregs of society before them, they didn't have the time nor the bullets to waste on him.
But Nicolas had both for them. He produced the fired bullet from his pocket and let it hit the ground. He let them see it there before it raised itself off the ground and hung in the air. They gaped as it shot as if fired anew and entered the first man. It curved outward and then back in, creating numerous entrance and exit wounds that didn't match. It raced toward the next like a living thing hungry for blood, diving and slicing through the air making turns no ordinary bullet could. When they were all dead and bleeding from all over, it slowly returned to Nicolas, stopping before him. He raised a hand and the metal reshaped itself into the standard bullet form, shiny and new, looking like it had never been fired. He pocketed it.
Suffice it to say this was the beginning of his criminal career. After the incident he returned to the bar and was never approached by anyone about the deaths. He continued to live upstairs, as the bar's owner was both an old friend (at least when dead bodies behind his building weren't concerned) and Nicolas could continue to pay rent... Always in change, oddly enough. Loose coins found their way to the boy, as did paper clips and all manner of metallic scraps. It would take practice for him to master his magnetism, but he had time. Once he did master the skill, he became well known in the criminal world and then, ironically, people did speak of how he murdered at twelve, killing with a single bullet. The scenarios varied however, from the truth (three thugs in an alley) to legends (twenty mobsters in a warehouse). But Nicolas's other form of magnetism captured them easily, and other supervillains came to like him quick enough. Due to his fondness for music, he had several stints with the criminal group/grunge/hard rock/trip-hop band Monkey's Paw, and though he couldn't play any music was considered a member for a time. One of his claims to fame was beating the superhero Heatstroke in a race through the town, Heatstroke on his hoverboard and Death Metal on his axe. Oddly enough, this race was with no stakes and purely for fun, born from witty banter during an actual fight. He loves to jape about the heroes and was the first to guess at the true nature of the White Raj and Jade Dragon's relationship.
Death Metal's greatest secret is that he is a Nickelback fan. He is known in the underworld for his amiable ways and 'You can't stop me' attitude around other villains and deadly skill with metals when foolishly confronted.

Powers: -Metal manipulation: Nicolas can bend any form of the solid matter, including its melted state and alloys. He can stop bullets in their tracks and send them arcing in whatever way he pleases, crush cars flat, and send the debris flying. Plastic gives him fits, however.
-His axe cannot be played like a regular guitar. He can, however, vibrate the metal strings at an intense rate to produce destructive sound waves. It is made of intensely tempered and dense steel, and not like to dent. As it's edges are sharp, he can take the instrument by its neck and swing it like an actual axe. It is wide enough for him to stand on and use as one would a hoverboard.
-It's whispered he has some sort of magnetism with people as well, as many who know him consider him a friend and a riot to be around.
Other:Nope.

... Now, up, up, and away, into a fabulous roleplay! Excelsior!