OK I know you said PM you but I just finished these and I wanna splat them somewhere so HERE YA GOOOO and if it's not gonna work out just tell me xD I was thinking Joy could be a student teacher or something, either in one of the power management classes or just in a regular old class like math or something cause she works in an office with accounts and stuff. And Jimmy could be one of the campus custodians? Howzat sound!
ALSO SORRY ABOUT INCONSISTENT PERSONALITY/BIO FIELD LENGTHS~
And I'm worried about Joy and Jimmy being a little OP so lemme know if I need to tweak them o: I'm not planning to make either of them very skillful fighters though, the one is all offense no defense and the other's all defense no offense.
~~~
General InformationFull Name: Joyce Neer (goes by ‘Joy’)
Alias: Killjoy
Pronouns: She/her/hers
Age: 32
AppearanceHeight: 5’10”
Weight: 160 lbs
Physical Description: Tall, dark and tired.
[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]Attire: A broad-shouldered gray jacket with dark slacks and a striped, slightly tacky tie. At home she wraps her hair back with a handkerchief.
PersonalityOutward Personality: At work, Joy wears a simple broad-shouldered suit with a striped tie. At home she forgets to change out of it. She slouches, she stares into space, and her morose dark eyes seem to droop if you look at her for long enough. But she isn’t sad – just uninterested. That all goes away when she’s blowing things up. Blowing things up is immensely gratifying stress relief, and Joy would recommend it to anyone and their grandkids.
*Inward Personality: Sometimes Joy wonders if she isn’t in some kind of crisis. Yesterday morning she woke up and realized that most of the clothes she owned were black, or a very dark gray, and she doesn’t know if that means anything or if she should talk to someone. She’s good at her office job, and doesn’t want anything more out of it, but shouldn’t she? Joy doesn’t like to talk about where she sees herself in five years, because she sees herself in the same darn place. Is this the high point of her career? But she’s only 32 years old. Is this where her life ends – in the middle? She didn’t used to think so hard about who she was.
Joy’s decided that, to keep these kinds of thoughts from getting to her, she has to keep herself busy. She’s good at keeping busy. She’s articulate and can really sit down and concentrate on a problem; she was hired for it. Joy started watercolor classes on the weekends and it’s very relaxing. Maybe someday she’ll find a good, fulfilling use for her ability to blow stuff up. Maybe that would help with the occasional ball of frustration that rolls up inside her. Do you think superheroes get psychiatrists?
/Skills: Accounting, people skills, critical thinking, interior decorating, watercolor.
History/*Bio: Little Joy Neer first discovered her abilities at age 7, when she drank a bit of expired milk and threw the carton violently away. She was aiming for the trashcan but missed by about half a mile. Joy hasn’t told anyone the story of how she got her powers, but it’s not some mysterious tragedy, she just thinks it all came from drinking sour milk and no one would let her hear the end of a stupid freakin secret origin like that.
Her parents were hard workers, but only her mom stuck around to pass that on to Joy. At 29 she scored a stable job as an office clerk and has risen just about as far as she ever dreamed to. Hey, $30,000 a year is nothing to spit at, and she makes enough to give her mom a few nice vacations (in lieu of grandchildren).
Joy wouldn’t have gotten into the superhero business if she hadn’t been in a café when a young, foolish Ursa busted in trying to rob the place. Joy took the kid under her wing and found the Legerman Academy to give Ursa a place in the world. Joy applied to be a teacher – for her own guidance as much as for those of the next generation of Changelings.
Also – an old friend of hers joined up with the Primacy a few years back. They still talk often, and with all the personal stuff Joy’s going through, some of the stuff she’s hearing in her friend’s emails is starting to make a disturbing amount of sense.
/*Family: She calls mom every once in a while but doesn’t really know what to talk about. Maybe she’ll visit, once she gets some time off.
/*Home: Out of state. Joy has a nice apartment though, which she shares with Frito. She's subleasing it for a year or so while she's deciding if she wants to stick with this teaching job at Legerman.
FactionSpecies: Changeling
Allegiance: Primacy (secretly)
Powers*Power Class: Elemental
*Power Description: Fires destructive 'bullets' by shaping her hand like a pistol, with any from 0 to 5 finger 'barrels.'
Zero fingers - a souped-up punch. The wake could knock over a recycling bin at twenty paces, I guess. (ZERO FINGA SUPA PAAAWNCH)
One finger - a light gunshot. The bullets aren’t actual, physical bullets, just packets of force, so you could get hit with one and not get pierced, you'd just take the hit. (ONE FINGA PISTOOOOOOL)
Two fingers - a more powerful shot that explodes on impact. (TWO FINGA BLASTU SHAAAAWT)
Three fingers - a heat laser that burns through metal, scars rock, and ignites flammable targets. (TREE FINGA... DEATH LAYZAAAAA!!)
Four fingers - nuclear railgun or something. It won't be used in this RP cause she doesn’t know how to do it yet :P. (FO FINGA... ATOMICU... RAAAAAAILU!!)
Five fingers – I dunno, some kinda gravity well or antimatter thingy. It won’t be used in this RP cause she doesn’t know how to do it yet :P. (FIVE FINGA BLACK HOLE CLAAAAW!!)
More powerful attacks drain Killjoy's energy more rapidly (a three-finger laser will pretty much wipe her out after a few seconds). She isn't immune to her own attacks, either; a two-finger shot that explodes too close to Killjoy will stun or injure her just like it would anyone else, and she tries not to punch too hard for fear of breaking her hands.
Killjoy can also clasp her hands together when she punches/shoots to soup up the power output. But that also tires her out more quickly.
MiscellaneousKey: Curse
Other: "I guess I should explain how I did that but I ain't gonna. I mean, I have powers, but I haven't told Frito or Jimmy my... Oh my God, do I have to call it an origin story? So I'm sure not telling you."
~~~
General InformationFull Name: Frita Deguerra (hates going by ‘Frito’)
Alias: Ursa
Pronouns: She/her/hers
Age: 15
AppearanceHeight: 5’2”
Weight: 110 lbs
Physical Description: Angry little squirrel with red hair and freckles.
[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]Attire: A white tank top and baggy jeans. A pair of bulky sports gloves strap on to her forearms.
PersonalityOutward Personality: If she comes off as surly, snappy, or confrontational, it’s just because she’s surly, snappy, and confrontational. Frito’s a teen. Strangers’ve always treated her like – well, like a girl who inexplicably has the arms of a freakin bear, and it shows in her face and the way she acts around people she doesn’t like. Which is most people, at least before she gets to know them better.
*Inward Personality: Frito doesn’t mean to act so ticked off all the time, that’s just who she is. She’ll open up to just about anybody, in a sarcastic kind of way, but she frustrates even her best friends on a regular basis, just by being blunt and sometimes even rude. But that’s starting to change a bit now. Frito used to be real sensitive about her arms, but now that she’s in the Academy she’s feeling a little different about the situation. She’s starting to think maybe she could be a hero after all, and the arms are a
good thing. Optimism is a new thing to Frito and she kinda likes the taste! It feels like dancing in your brain…
/Skills: Athletics, breaking things, cooking (and eating), slam poetry.
History/*Bio: Frita Deguerra was going through the ‘dark’ phase when a kid feels the need to be the villain of the piece (having two devilish younger sisters didn’t help). And she almost was, too; one Christmas a sour young Frito was gifted what looked like just a trinket from a silly magic shop, and wished for the power to kill people with her bare hands. Maybe it was some kind of Monkey’s Paw deal, or maybe the trinket just misheard, but 8-year-old Frito came out of that deal saddled with two big grizzly bear arms from the elbow down.
Her parents hung on for a few years, homeschooling the girl, keeping her in the attic and hoping no one ever found out their child was some kinda mutant, but as Frita grew up the cruelty of younger siblings and social isolation got to her in a bad way. The bear hands were ruining her life and her parents’ marriage. 5 years, many shouting matches, and several clawed couches later, Frito went ‘beast mode’ for the first time and hurt one of her sisters badly. Everyone was scared and angry, Frito included, and by nightfall she was out on the street with her arms under a trash bag.
As a wise man once said, “life isn’t easy for a 13-year-old with bear hands and nowhere to go.” Two years passed that Frito doesn’t like to remember. Eventually she figured out that there were only two things in the world for someone like her: she could become a superhero, or a supervillain. And being a hero was
hard. It was then that she tried to rob the café and first met Killjoy, who took immediate command and shouted that it was just her younger cousin pulling a prank before dragging Frito out of the store by her neck. Frito and Killjoy had a talk, there were tears, there was almost a hug, and then the girl had a place to stay and someone to look after her. Because Killjoy agreed with Frito – you can’t work an ordinary job with hands like those – she took the girl to the Legerman Academy in the hopes that it’d make something good of her.
/*Family: Frito hasn’t talked to her family in years. She went back to the house once but someone else lives there now. Frito still has cell numbers and email addresses, but it’d weird for her to think about, so she keeps to herself. Maybe when she’s a big-shot hero…
/*Home: Frito lived with Killjoy in her apartment. Now, of course, she has a dorm at Legerman.
FactionSpecies: Changeling
Allegiance: Neutral
Powers*Power Class: Form
*Power Description: Cursed forever with bear arms, from the elbow down. Frito wears big old gloves most of the time and can't do a lotta stuff very well, like texting or opening car doors.
With her gloves on she can pack a mean punch (for someone her size), and with her gloves off she can shred or maul targets – anything that your average grizzly could rip through, so can she, but with less beefy shoulder muscles. Every once in a while she’ll sharpen her claws on trees or old furniture.
Frito pretends she has this ‘bear-sense’ thing going on but doesn't actually have any other bear-related abilities, senses, or affinities.
If she gets too stressed or ticked off, Frito might slip into what she calls the ‘beast mode,’ which is one part having aminal hands and two parts teen angst. In the beast mode she’ll blindly lash out at anything around her for about five minutes, shrugging off pain, then later she'll be real tired and remember it all as this kind of hazy dream. The only way she can do this on command is if she works herself up by attacking stuff. Again, not a ‘bear’ thing, she just has anger issues. :P
MiscellaneousKey: Curse
Other: "i guess i should report mission progress and continue... my uhhh, tactical renaissance!!!"
~~~
General InformationFull Name: James Burbanks (goes by 'Jimmy')
Alias: Nice Catch Man
Pronouns: He/him/his
Age: 49
AppearanceHeight: 5’8”
Weight: 230 lbs
Physical Description: Big happy potato.
[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]Attire: A polo or one of his old baseball jerseys. Khakis that are a little too short. Black cleats and an old cap that was once white.
PersonalityOutward Personality: Jimmy’s the nicest guy. He’s quiet, but he’ll talk if he pegs you as someone who likes to be asked things or to hear stories. He’s comfortable in charge, but likes to let other people lead, too. All in all Jimmy’s the kinda guy that just wades through life and lets it pass around him; he’s slow, but always gets to where he’s going, and does it with a smile.
*Inward Personality: Jimmy loves kids, much more than adults. There’s something a lotta people lose when they grow up, Jimmy thinks, and it’s something he’d like to help give back to the world. He gets frustrated with certain types of people – people who think they can boss others around, and don’t worry about what everyone else wants. But he doesn’t let it show. Jimmy truly conquered his anger long ago. It comes and goes but it passes right through him like wind through the grass.
/Skills: Coaching, cooking, gardening.
History/*Bio: All of James Burbanks’ earliest memories involve in some way the great game of baseball. He was clumsy and fat and couldn’t make the school team but he tried every year, and nobody dared made fun of him for it cause James was a huuuge bully. He would fight and spit and poke fun for no reason at all other than he could. Some kids…
But Jimmy remembers the exact moment he grew up. “Saint” Miguel Barzega,
[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.], was a Changeling and one of the greatest names in baseball, though the Saint swore he never touched his powers on the diamond. If you asked Jimmy, he was the best ever to play the game. Jimmy wanted so badly to be able to go to one of his hero’s games. He stole from his parents’ wallets; he took his classmates’ lunch money; he lied and cheated and even shoplifted to get enough cash to buy a ticket. The night before the game the Saint came to little Jimmy in a dream. They talked. Jimmy woke up scared and confused and ashamed at what he’d done. He ripped up the ticket he’d done so much to get and was ready to denounce his hero and run away and never come back. Jimmy crept out of the house and made it all the way into town, but stopped at the corner at the sounds of cheering sports fans. Through a nearby pub window, Jimmy watched on TV as Saint Miguel smiled, waved, and pointed to the camera.
Right at me, the boy thought. Then the pitcher pitched and Saint Miguel swung.
The announcers were speechless. The crowd went dead silent. One team gasped, and the other booed. The pub exploded with sound and motion. But Saint Miguel just stood there in the middle of it all and smiled. He’d cracked the bat in six pieces and sent the ball flying farther than humanly possible, out of the stadium, up above the clouds, a blip in the distance.
Jimmy just stared. Then he thought to turn around, and looked up, and squinted; he lifted a hand skyward to block out the sun, and felt a
thwump that jarred his arm, shocked him near to death, and threw him to the pavement. Jimmy looked down at his hand and saw it was clutching a baseball, still hot and steaming from that incredible swing.
Saint Miguel had used his powers to hit a ball just for him. He couldn’t believe it; he sat there and cried and beat the sidewalk with his fists. He wailed out apology after apology for everything he’d done, every kid he’d bumped into in the hallway, every cent of money he’d taken, every unkind word he ever said. He knew he didn’t deserve that ball, but the Saint had believed in him. That last swing ended Miguel Barzega’s career; he’d broken his agreement to keep the Changeling powers off the field, and he’d done it with a smile.
Jimmy got a job as quick as he could and over the school year he paid back every single kid he’d ever wronged, with interest. He acted different, too. Everyone at school noticed, and at first they were scared and weirded out. His parents noticed, too, but couldn’t make heads or tails of this strange new boy who’d replaced little James Burbanks. But Jimmy just kept being the best he could be, and ever since that impossible hit and equally impossible catch, he never failed to catch anything else ever again – nor did he forget Saint Miguel’s smile as he ended his career to save a little kid’s future.
Jimmy kept that ball always. He kept playing baseball, too, and even made it to the big leagues – but only for just long enough for the brief spurt of fame to crucify him. Jimmy was still heavy and clumsy and couldn’t throw for squat but he caught everything that came near him, no matter what. When they asked jokingly if he was some kinda Changeling, he didn’t lie, and that was the end of that. But Jimmy went out with a smile. He hopes that, someday, he can make a league just for Changelings, because everyone should be able to play a game they love.
That’s when Jimmy B came to the Legerman Academy. He’d always liked kids. He’d hoped to teach sports, but there weren’t any openings, so a custodian was the best Jimmy could do. But he’s happy; he coaches the little leagues in his free time, and won’t have anything for it but that his team retires
[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] and that the kids know why.
/*Family: Jimmy has a mom back home and a couple younger brothers out making their names somewhere.
/*Home: Jimmy grew up in the great state of Massachusetts. He lives in a grand old house he bought in one payment back when he was almost famous. It’s too big for him, but it’s an awful pretty house and has too many memories to sell.
FactionSpecies: Changeling
Allegiance: Neutral
Powers*Power Class: Physiological
*Power Description: Can catch anything. The limits on this power are a little hazy, but it's almost entirely a defensive ability, and NCM can still be hurt by the things he catches.
When fired at with an automatic weapon, for instance, NCM can move in a blur to catch the bullets - but they will still hurt him, so he wears a special heavy-duty glove. He can catch stuff with other parts of his body, too, but the glove’s his only special protective gear. In recent years, though, he's started to slip - the old muscle memory's not what it used to be, so if he ever tries to pull a high-exertion stunt like that again then a lot of the projectiles would make it through.
NCM can grab onto larger objects, but if he's not strong enough to lift them (or resist being squashed into the pavement), it’s strike three for Jimmy B.
He can trap small amounts of fire or other energy to keep it from getting past him but isn't protected against it, and could theoretically trap air to make a vacuum in a ball inside his hands, but not to an extent that realistically would ever be useful.
He can catch
himself by wrapping his arms around his body to abruptly (and sometimes painfully) stop a fall.
He can't know to catch something he doesn’t see coming, so sucker punches are game.
He also can't catch things that aren’t coming right
at him. Though NCM can move in a blink to snag a falling coffee mug or block a punch, if a baseball is gonna fall 90 yards away he has to be able to run the distance himself - no small task for a guy of his build!
It should also be noted that, though he can catch anything, the guy can't throw for jack squat. Which is partially why his baseball career ended when it did.
MiscellaneousKey: Curse
Other: "WELL SURE I'LL TELL YA WHY, SAINT MIGUEL MAY NOTTA BEEN THE VERY BEST AT PLAYIN THE GAME, BUT HE... WAS THE GREATEST GUY WHO EVER PLAYED IT..."
