PERSONAL

Gender: Male

Kit: Eldritch

Location: Metropolitan Khazan

AFFILIATION

Alignment: Villain

Team: The Children of Sayang

VITAL STATS

Strength: standard (rank 1)

Agility: standard (rank 1)

Mind: superior (rank 2)

Body: standard (rank 1)

Spirit: (rank )

Charisma: (rank )

RECORD

Infamy Points: 485

Personal Wins: 38

Personal Losses: 17

Team Wins: 0

Team Losses: 0

Tourney Wins: 0

Tourney Losses: 0

STATUS

Status: Active

treacherous

"This is a city of crazies; the art lies in not letting them get to you. I mean, Jesus, Baby. If I let it get to me, I'd never go outside the door. This is the twilight zone. I'm in it; you're in it, the I-DON'T-LIKE-DOGS lady's in it. Shit happens."

The cross-dresser Alvin, who now goes by Wanda. - Sandman.

"Oh dear god and I was just headed to lunch." A young Khazanian officer exclaims as he surveys a gruesome incident set before him. "...I don't think I'll ever eat pasta again." His face turns a sickly green as he summons the courage to cross the crime scene tape just beyond the expanding crowd. He briefly gazes at the scene again only to drop whatever undigested remnants he may have had in his stomach previously. "C'mon Folks... Stand Back... Stand Back! There is nothing to see here. Go back to your homes!" another officer bellows futilely at the swelling mass. Spectators from high-rises gaze down from above. "People are morbid you know. Who'd want to see something like this? The officer asks nobody in particular. As the winds shift, an updraft causes a putrid smell to float into the salty Khazanian air. A little kid above wretches and loses his balloons. He cries as they enter the skies above. Meanwhile, the sound of an ambulance breaks the steady white noise of the gathering. The crowd parts as the automobile backs its way into the gory panorama. "I swear so much violence in Khazan these days. It used to be such a peaceful town. I mean seriously, what's going on with people these days?" mummers one of the paramedics exiting the vehicle. "It's a sign o' the times, kiddo. Sign o' the times." An older gentleman says exiting from the opposite end.

"How're forensics doing on the roof, son?" Police lieutenant, Gordon Howell calls out to a nearby inspector. "Nothing as of yet, sir. Standard suicide or perhaps even an accident it would seem." The lieutenant looks up at the apartment in which the body below him once belonged. He distorts his face in concern as he notices just how many spectators there are above. He returns. "Bullshit." The lieutenant yells. "I've been in this line of work longer than you've been alive. There is rarely such thing as an accident anymore. Something is changing in the air. This town is shifting to something...something not right. I can feel it. I don't know what it is, but something is wrong..." The lieutenant stops abruptly and looks around as if the answer is going to hit him in the face. The inspector turns away with a confused look on his face and backs away, slowly leaving the lieutenant to his thoughts. The lieutenant notices his departure, but ignores it, returning to his pondering. "...Ten suicides in this neighborhood in the last few weeks? No...this isn't normal. Not normal at all."

Hears all your thoughts...

     Empathy: standard (rank 1)

A week later

A brooding young man sits alone at a bench. His legs crossed, he glares menacingly at nothing in particular humming an anonymous nursery rhyme. His t-shirt does little to cover his heavily tattooed body. Even his face is plastered with an ornate and fiery design. Simultaneously, a large plodding gentleman approaches the bench. Although it is warm outside, his thick clothes betray the climate. In what seems to be his work clothes, he wears a badge. His name is Hector Hoy. His face is sullen and his posture withdrawn. He tries to not stare upon the tattooed man. Meanwhile and nearby a group of children frolic and play joyously in complete discord of Hoy s disposition. Hoy ignores them and the young man previously occupying the bench. He trips a little and falls into the seat awkwardly. The kids notice and laugh hysterically. Hoy frowns and continues to disregard them, all the while pulling out a squished sandwich from his pockets. The kids begin to dance in a circle and spontaneously sing a song much to Hoy s dismay. For Hoy has heard it before

Big duuumb Hoy/ the maaaan that looks like a boy!

Big duuumb Hoy/ he ll faaaall and crush your toy!

Has a plan...

     Mind Control: standard (rank 1)

• Area Affect
• Target Seeker

The kids then all fall down and laugh raucously. All of a sudden, the lumbering man plunges forward trying to scare the kids off. Ironically, he does indeed fall again. The kids begin to cry in laughter as he slowly rises, Hoy s face again falls sullen and he returns to his bench. Meanwhile, the other young man at the bench doesn t move. Hoy looks at him and shudders as he returns to his seat. A cold feeling travels throughout his body. He twitches as he feels a tingling sensation within his head as if something were crawling around it. Suddenly, the kids grow very quiet and stand as if frozen. Gradually, they link hands again and begin to sing anew. Yet this time, the joy is gone. The frolicking halted. The melody remains the same, but the mood dour.

Whisssper Man/ hears aaaall your thoughts and has a plan.

Whisssper Man/ can taaaake your pain from this land.

Hoy is chilled to the core as he hears the creepy nursery rhyme. He turns to the man next to him, but finds him gone. Quickly, he throws his food to the ground and exits. Damn kids. This town is full of weirdoes and dumb kids. I HATE YOU ALL! He screams as he shambles away hurriedly.

Can take your pain...

     Communication: standard (rank 1)

That night: Midnight

Hector Hoy is asleep in his apartment in downtown Khazan. He leaves the window open, because he loves the smell of the city. He loves the sound of the streets. It s the only thing that helps him fight his insomnia. As he sleeps, he doesn t notice the long dark shadow cloaking the streetlamps of Khazan. His body however reacts with a quiver as a cold feeling hits him. Nevertheless, he sleeps peacefully. Within his room a heavily tattooed man from a nearby bench enters. The tattooed man touches Hoy s forehead ever so lightly. Hoy s mind opens to the man while he sleeps. His mind tells the tattooed man all its secrets. It tells him all of its pain. Hoy s mind is happy to be able to tell someone its sorrow. The tattooed man listens and smiles. He likes what he hears.

From this land...

     Poison: standard (rank 1)

After Hoy s mind tells the tattooed man these things within its deepest recesses, the tattooed man begins to whisper to it. He whispers that Hoy s mind will be okay - that his mind can leave this horrible place if it would like; that it can go someplace better. The tattooed man makes great promises to the Hoy s sub- conscience. The man s mind tries to dispute. The mind makes convincing argument too: What about my life? What about my job? it debates. But eventually the whispering breaks it down. The arguments are futile. The mind realizes that it should leave: That this place is not where it is meant to be. The tattooed man smiles and is pleased with Hoy s mind and its decision.

The Whisper Man

     Force of Will: standard (rank 1)

Hoy begins to move from his bed. Sleepwalking is not usual for Hoy, but tonight his mind convinces his body to walk. As he walks, the tattooed man whispers a nursery rhyme in the dark:

Whisssper Man/ hears aaaall your thoughts - has a plan.

Whisssper Man/ can taaaake pain away from... this land.

Hoy s body shudders, yet still walks on. Where are we going? Hoy mumbles in his sleep. Away from it all, Hoy. Just follow me The tattooed man says as he steps out of a window and unto the balcony of Hoy s apartment. Come here. He speaks softly. Hoy exits unto the balcony and follows the voice.

At the same time

Lieutenant Howell couldn t sleep tonight. It s not unusual for him as his mind wonders often. It is unusual for him to decide to take a stroll at midnight on the streets of Khazan. As he takes a breath of fresh air rather calmly, yet cautiously, he notices that he has made his way to the Owens apartments. He sits at a nearby bench. Owens, now this is a nice neighborhood. Good kids in this neighborhood, friendly folk His voice trails away as he smiles and takes another deep breath fighting the urge to nod off. He contemplates calling a taxi rather than walking home. Looking up at the tall apartment, he swears he sees someone walking across a balcony and within blinks. THWUMP! A deafening thud and cracking noise shatters his once peaceful night.