Anima

PERSONAL

Gender: Male

Kit: Natural

Location: Boston

AFFILIATION

Alignment: Hero

Team: Solo Hero

VITAL STATS

Strength: superior (rank 2)

Agility: superior (rank 2)

Mind: standard (rank 1)

Body: superior (rank 2)

Spirit: (rank )

Charisma: (rank )

RECORD

Fame Points: 0

Personal Wins: 20

Personal Losses: 25

Team Wins: 0

Team Losses: 0

Tourney Wins: 0

Tourney Losses: 0

STATUS

Status: Active

Lunacyde

A handsome young Detective sat leisurely at his stained-Oak desk. He wore a nicely pressed white collared shirt, rolled up to the elbows, with a pair of grey pants that seemed just a touch too tight and a matching vest that gave him a look more lent to lecturing students than catching criminals. His wavy blonde hair was lightly tussled, his smile beaming at the tense figure at the door. He kicked his feet up on the desk knocking over a cup of pens and began to speak as if it hadn't even happened.

"Come on in. So tell me, what do we know about our mystery man Lieutenant?"

"Well to be honest quite a bit, he's been surprisingly forthcoming in questioning."

"Do tell"

"His name is Matt Spitman, he's 6'2 211 Lbs, blonde hair, blue eyes and it seems he has no idea who the unknown female was. Apparently he saw her being chased by a group of masked men and assumed it was a standard mugging. Kid's built like a brick shithouse, I don't blame him for thinking he could step in and save the girl from a bunch of common street thugs. Little did our good Samaritan know that the men were a squad of elite Para-Military grunts. Leaping to the aid of the damsel in distress our young Lancelot found himself in a world of trouble."

"Continue"

Well, this is where things get interesting. This seemingly normal and completely unarmed twenty-one year old, dressed in jeans and a flannel and curiously not wearing any shoes disarmed and incapacitated five highly decorated Ex-Military men. He sustained multiple gunshot wounds to the torso and left leg, however upon arrival at the hospital it was found that his wounds had already begun to heal."

"Tell me Shaw, how is it that an ordinary Joe like Mr. Spitman embarrasses a group like this? The ballistics Report in my hand right now says they had to reopen the wounds, and dug three 5.56 Caliber bullets from his chest and abdomen and two 9mm rounds out of his left thigh. "

"That's the trick isn't it Detective. Logically there is something here that we are unaware of. I haven't uncovered this particular secret yet, but I am confident I will crack it in the next session of talks."

"Logic dictates that our young prisoner is not at all what he seems. I'm going to take a look into alternative methods of accelerated self-healing and see what I can learn. He must have some advanced training of some sort. You're sure there are no witnesses to the altercation?

"No. Not a single person has come forward. Further investigation into the woman who called the police has turned up next to nothing. She made the call from a cellular device registered under the name Nina Gabrella. We've already determined that it's an alias, however we have no other information on the woman. She claimed to be a tenant in one of the apartments adjacent to the alley, however records indicate that all such apartments are currently being rented by men. After extensive questioning of these men I find it safe to say that she was lying."

"Very interesting series of events we have here Lieutenant Shaw. We must ask ourselves, why the need for such deception? There is still a lot that we don't know, and a long way to go before we can ascertain the truth. Have you gleaned any personal information that may lead us in the right direction?"

 

"More than I even tried for actually. He seems to have a fondness for talking about himself, particularly his childhood. From what he tells me he is the eldest son of a local Farmer. One night about a week ago his Father was murdered in cold blood. He hasn't explained how but he says he's been tracking the killer, and he was closing in when all this happened"

"I find it odd that he would surrender so nicely given his quest for revenge and such close proximity to the man who killed his Father."

"I made that exact point, and he went off on a rant about how surrendering and doing what was right would have made his father proud, and that he was honoring his father's memory by doing so. Honestly people just don't come this nice Simon. This kid is the All-American, Midwest,Apple Pie, Golly Gee thank you Ma'am, Leave it to Beaver type you see in movies."

"Those types don't kill people Lieutenant. You'll do good to remember that. This may all be a well-designed ruse to derail our investigation. I want you to let me interview him, now."

 

Organic Telepathy

     Telepathy: standard (rank 1)

 

The room was dark and cold, the walls stark white and shrouded in the gloom of the dim lighting. A single bright light hung over the cold steel table like a golden halo. The atmosphere was melancholy as the young man watched dust swirl through the rays spitting from the overhead light. The thick metal door swung open with vigor and a reasonably handsome man strode confidently into the room smiling as if he had just won the lottery. He began talking excitedly and words rushed out of his mouth like water over Niagara Falls.

" Hi, I'm Detective Alan Simon, but I'm sure you aren't interested in that. I know I'm not. What I am interested in is the fact that you my friend are a superhero, aren't you? Wait don't answer that I don't want to be responsible for the repercussions of exposing your secret identity."

The young man just stared at the Detective as if he had a monkey on his head and scuffed his shoes on the floor.

"Ohh come on, you have to admit that was pretty funny Matt. Can I call you Matt, or do you have a spicier vigilante name your fellow heroes call you by?

" I really have no idea what you are talking about Alan. I'm just an ordinary guy who was put in an extraordinary situation and happened to come out on top."

"Ordinary guys don't make fools out of Ex-Marines and live to tell the tale, especially with five critical gunshot wounds. I know everything about you Matt, you may as well just drop the Little Rascals routine and come clean with me so we can all go on our merry way."

"If you know everything why are you here? Not to be disrespectful officer but this seems like a pretty big waste of time. I saw a girl in trouble and I stepped in to help her, end of story. I surrendered to you and answered all your questions pertaining to the case. Now if you could release me I would appreciate it. I have business to attend to."

"Now, now Matt. Patience is a virtue. What would you say if I said I know who killed your Father and I'd be willing to help you track him down and put him behind bars?"

"Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage."

"Lovelace, interesting"

"Look Alan, I can tell you're a nice guy, and pretty bright too. So I'm going to tell you what you want to know, but I swear if you do anything to prevent me from taking the life of the scum who killed my father, I will count you his accomplice."

"Alright Matt, that's fair enough. I can live with that. So tell me exactly how you beat those armed men that night."

"Where would you like me to start? I've known since I was a young boy that I was different. I have this weird ability to communicate with other living things. I can see things from their eyes, hear things from their ears, and smell things from their noses. I can also communicate my desires with them, all through my mind. For example if I touch a blade of grass I can use it to network with all the other grass and detect other things touching the grass, even at long distances."

 

Hyper-Senses

     Hyper-Senses: superior (rank 2)

 

"Interesting story, but I still don't see how that would allow you to thrash these guys."

"Remember what you said about patience, I wasn't finished. I also have extremely acute senses. I can see perfectly in the dark, smell the sweat on their skin, the gunpowder and blood, I can hear their fingers squeezing the triggers, the springs and levers scraping, their heartbeats pounding as I took away their guns and smashed them. I was too fast, they couldn't even react, I dodged most of their gunfire. I was too strong, I overpowered them and broke their weapons on the ground and shattered their bones and when the last one fell I collapsed on the asphalt bleeding from my wounds."

"Hmmm. Then how do you explain the fact that surgeons at the Hospital had to cut you open just to remove the bullets? Somehow the damaged tissue had already begun to heal despite less than an hour having gone by since the wounds were inflicted."

 

Healing Touch

     Regeneration: standard (rank 1)

 

" That's easy, it's perhaps my most useful, and most hated ability. I can cause healing and growth in living things simply by touching them with my skin. It's a useful power, I used it for years to help my Dad's crops grow, and heal the kids when they got hurt around the farm. However what my Dad saw as a blessing I soon began to see as a curse. It means that I cannot get physical with anyone. I learned this the hard way when I was fourteen. My first love and I spent the nights walking the railroad tracks and going down to the creek. We were both shy and never had touched each other, but one night I gathered up my nerve decided to kiss her. I grabbed her hands and pressed my lips against hers. It was magical for a moment, her sweet breath brushing my face, her lips tasted like strawberries. But when I looked at her face it was disfigured with bulging tumors, her hands covered in strange growths. My touch overloaded the natural cell growth"

"Gruesome, I suppose this led to scared neighbors and misunderstanding?"

" I blamed it on Poison oak, but nobody bought it. I was ridiculed and ostracized at school. I made it through, if only to please my Dad, but I dedicated all my free-time and effort to helping Dad around the farm. With my help he was able to run the best small-time farm in the State. Big-time Agricultural Corporations came from miles around to try and buy our Farm but Dad would never sell. The land had been in his family for generations all his relatives had been buried there."

"I think I see where you're going with this. You believe that one of those large corporations put a hit on your father so they could bully your family into selling their farm. i don't have enough information yet to tell you if that's the case, but I can tell you it does fit the guy's MO. The man who killed your father is a trained killer. He's an expert in many fields of specialization. He's a sadist and serial killer who entered the military to cover up for his fascination with killing. He received a great amount of training, but never took to taking orders very well. He was dishonorably discharged and found himself as a hired gun. He is now one of the most prolific and well known assassins in the world. The man who killed your father is Raymond Skiba, or as he is commonly known, Orca. He is cunning, brilliant and highly skilled with technology that makes our government jealous. You're going to need my help."