TheRedGuy

Notice Check 1d20+4=10 That dice roller hates my guts.

Aníbal winced as he felt a meaty hand grip his shoulder and a sharp object prick the skin on his neck. Ah yes. Vigilance. You never know where an enemy will come from. He was flushed with embarrassment as the simulation froze. This was the scenario and he failed, abysmally, without so much as getting a shot in. The instructor's reassurance did little to assuage his feelings of frustration. Aníbal excelled as a matter of course, both academically and athletically. Failing a test was not something he was used to, and that he fell for the oldest trick in the book made it worse. Still, Dauntless did not have another meltdown on his hands. What Aníbal felt was merely a restrained anger at himself, not the deep emotional anguish that made Robin freeze during her test. He turned towards the observation area as the instructor called on Riley and suddenly took to the air, hovering around 9 feet above ground. In a second, he flew to the others, landing slowly and theatrically with his arms folded across his chest. All that was missing was a flowing cape. "Good luck", he replied to Riley's jab, adding just a hint of playful teasing to his voice. There was no malice in the comment, just typical silly boyish posturing. As the Woodsman made his way to the exercise area, Aníbal was immediately given more reassurances by the girls. He shrugged off his setback with the appropriate amount of magnanimity. "The instructor is right, I've got a lot to learn.", he replied and, lowering his voice, added "But yes, the tests really are lame." Raina suggested dinner, and Aníbal nodded in agreement, matching her flirting with an easy smile. "Sounds like a plan. I'm sure we'll all work up an appetite by the end of this. It feels like they're... how do you say it here... softballing, no? Like the real challenge is only coming, and they're just trying to get under our skin.", he replied, glancing towards Riley, whose simulation was starting up, Of course, if they were having trouble with the easy parts, it didn't bode well for the big test. Aníbal watched the simulation unfolding below them with some interest. It was certainly the strangest so far, and quite a spectacle. He watched Riley respond to the circumstances, as the Woodsman moved instinctively to cover atop a building. Riley soon made his way to the top, and Aníbal couldn't help but admire the boy's grace and speed. It was a bit of a sore point, seeing Riley follow up his own failure with such a composed, determined performance. El Gran Huracán himself, Lord of the Winds, Master of the Powers of the Air, upstaged by some guy with an axe. He couldn't help but smile at his predicament and almost felt jealous for a moment, but shrugged off such childishness. A lesson in humility was always welcome. There was indeed much to learn, and perhaps he would pick up some useful hints from Riley's disciplined approach. Good luck, amigo, he thought. It looked like the Woodsman would need it.

El Huracán: Hit The Plane Down Let's Get It Started TheRedGuy Veteran Progress: 0 / 30 (Bronze) Basic Character Slots: PL10 / 150PP: El Huracán Veteran Rewards: N/A Retired Characters: N/A All PP obviously go to El Huracán.

The tension didn't let up as the room flickered again, creating a new simulation out of thin air. Aníbal found himself in an unfamiliar part of a bustling city. Perhaps this was some place in Freedom City he had not yet seen, or just a nondescript, typical American city street. The surroundings seemed nicer and safer than Robin's simulation, although given the content of the previous exercises there was bound to be more to this than a simple stroll through the city center. He noticed the crowd rushing in, a giant serpent of humanity that almost blended into the city streets. The simulation didn't show them with lifelike detail, probably to conserve computing power. Even this marvelous technology probably had its limits. Aníbal met the crowd head on, snaking his way between the pedestrians and making his way forward. He bumped into one of them and offered an apology out of reflex, then smirked at the absurdity of apologising to a hologram. Crowds didn't bother him, usually - in fact, he enjoyed the bustle of the big cities as much as the leisurely solitude of a ranch, and liked to get lost in the crowd, taking in the sights and sounds of big city life. This crowd, however, made him feel uneasy. It wasn't just the fact he was being tested. The washed out, almost gray colors made the people look uncanny, like zombies. Matters weren't helped by a voice booming from the heavens, ominously warning him to pay attention. Vigilance was easier said than done. Aníbal took a look around but noticed nothing out of the ordinary. "The enemy could be anyone" was singularly unhelpful advice, even if true. Then, he spotted the girl. She stood out from the crowd. She would stand out even if the rest of the people weren't washed out zombies. Their eyes met and he returned her smile. Aníbal preferred boys, it was true, but he was attracted to women as well, albeit in a slightly different fashion. He enjoyed the company of women, but he appreciated feminine beauty the way one might appreciate a work of art. It was less visceral, less raw, with a certain amount of distance, although of course he had no trouble with the physical side of things. A girl could still turn his head on occasion, and this one did. She was certainly beautiful in a subdued, elegant way, and her dress flattered her shape, bringing out her curves. Italian silk, Aníbal thought, probably a Missoni judging by the cut. Perhaps a little too flashy for late September, but it looked good on her. He was about to check out her shoes when he suddenly remembered he was taking an exam. What did that voice say? Something about vigilance?

Notice Check (1d20+4) = 12 Sense Motive Check (1d20+2) = 11 Welp.

The exercise was halted soon enough at the students' request, and the instructor made his way to the group. Everyone could tell his praise rang a bit hollow. This did not go as planned. Then, the instructor asked who would be the next one to take the test. "I'll go next", Aníbal immediately offered, shooting a glance at Riley and Robin. Robin still looked upset, despite the instructor's words of encouragement, and Riley seemed like the only one who could help her get through this rough patch. He wondered for a moment what his task would be. Obviously the simulations were tailored not only to their powers but to their personalities. Something in the exercise struck Robin's weak spot, not physically but mentally. He wondered how much the school knew about him. He had lived a fairly charmed life, free from trauma and unpleasantness. Where would they hit him? What did they think was his heroic flaw? Steeling himself, he took a deep breath in preparation for whatever they were planning to throw at him. Focus, Aníbal, we can do this...

Just as suddenly as it started, the simulation had stopped. The ritual was incomplete. Or was it? Raina had successfully completed her own exercise, it seemed. When she sidled up to him, Aníbal gave her an encouraging smile. "Good work, I think", he complimented, and leaned in to listen as she described the problems with the scenario and hinted at greater mysteries. "I wouldn't know", he whispered, "Perhaps some day you can show me the real deal." Robin was next. The room changed again, this time a simulation of one of Freedom City's more run-down neighborhoods. Aníbal didn't know which one it was. This seemed like more normal fare - a crime was being committed, and Robin was here to save the day. He had no idea about the girl's abilities, but she certainly seemed tougher than most girls her age. Observing the scene, Aníbal kept quiet so as not to distract anyone. There'd be plenty of time to chat afterwards. The simulation went on in predictable fashion. There was a scuffle in the pawnshop, and the goons did not get the upper hand. So far, nothing out of the ordinary. However, when Robin cried out in anguish, demanding the simulation be paused, Aníbal raised an eyebrow in surprise. This was an awkward moment. He looked on, puzzled, as first Raina and then Riley went inside the exercise area to check in on the hero of the Fens. What could have upset her so? Aníbal turned to the instructor. "Perhaps a pause, sir?", he remarked and made his way down towards the others. With a glance, he noticed Riley was quite affectionately comforting Robin. So, those two are an item... He made a mental note of it, another strand in the web of relationships within the school to remember, and walked up to Raina's side.

Aníbal muttered a juicy Mexican profanity as he noted the alarm light flashing inside the baggage compartment. So much for the stealthy approach. As the trio all made it inside and closed the hatch, the alarm turned off, although several pets were upset by the arrival of the intruders. His goggles adjusted to the dim lighting inside the cargo bay. This wasn't going too well, although there was a chance the infiltration could still be salvaged. "This guy here" was taken aback as Seahawk referred to him while laying out the rest of her plan. He remembered that they hadn't been introduced. "It's An... El Huracán.", he managed to squeeze in an introduction before Seahawk continued, almost fumbling an introducing himself by his real first name. This was all very new to him. As Seahawk finished and asked for feedback, he tried thinking on his feet, but found he had little to add. That last bit wasn't encouraging. "My first time as well...", he remarked, his accent making it sound a little bit like smutty innuendo, "I think it's probably best we deal with things as we go. We don't know what the situation is like up there, if the captain is acting solo or if he has people working with him among the passengers. Best not to overplan things and just move ahead. I should warn you that I'm not much use in close quarters. This suit can take a bullet or two, but high calibre rounds might be a problem." He took his position behind Casey, ready to move up out of the baggage hold. "Also...", he said as he turned once more to Seahawk, "Now it's your turn to introduce yourself."

Like Riley, Aníbal was slightly startled when the lights flickered and the holographic projectors turned on. He was more used to advanced technology, but nothing at this scale or level. It would probably be a few years, a few decades even, before anything similar was rolled out into mass production. With a nod, he wished Raina good luck and stood back, his arms crossed, observing the scene. He couldn't help smirking at the figures and their ominous chanting. It felt like a cheesy horror movie. Aníbal had little to no experience with the occult. Only one thing came close... Once, at a party, some of the spoiled rich kids from his previous high school had the brilliant idea of organising a ritual veneration of Santa Muerte for a lark, as idiotic teenagers are wont to do. He went along, treating the whole thing with a lot more respect than the other partygoers. A few of his father's bodyguards, ex-cops or worse, were devotees of the Lady of the Shadows, and she was also the patron of Mexico's queer community. While the other kids treated the rite as a joke, a mockery of lower-class superstitions, Aníbal lit a red candle with utmost earnestness, addressing a small prayer to the grim saint, if she indeed existed. Later that evening, the instigators of the mockery felt both physically and mentally unwell - although, more skeptically, it could probably be attributed to various substances ingested and simple exhaustion. Aníbal, for his part, had a lovely time with the slightly tipsy star forward of the school football team, who was more interested in him than in his tagalong girlfriend. Just a coincidence, of course. Just a coincidence. Memories of that night came to his mind as the holographic ritual progressed, and the atmosphere in the room grew darker and more oppressive. Aníbal could smell sulfur and feel the energies of the ritual coursing around him. The air was heavy, unnatural, he could feel it. Perhaps it was simply the power of suggestion, but it worked nonetheless. He inhaled deeply and called on the folk saint for assistance, if she was capable of providing any. Whatever goofy diabolical power those hooded Hammer Horror weirdos were invoking didn't stand a chance against her. As Raina came around and explained the situation to the other students, he cocked an eyebrow. Clearly, the program was tailor-made with her in mind, and clearly, she had experience with this sort of thing. There was more to the chatty blonde girl than met the eye. Is that where her powers come from?, he wondered. It struck him that he had no idea about the exact nature of his own powers. Genetics, or some sort of supernatural influence? He took the name of a god, but as far as he knew, said god had nothing to do with it. Not wishing to spoil the training exercise by interfering or offering unsolicited advice, he observed the spectacle, wondering what Raina's next move would be.

Aníbal kept quiet and listened intently as the others bombarded the instructor with questions, even though he had plenty of his own. It was important to listen to people, get a feel for their personality, what made them tick, so you could converse with them without hurting their pride or getting on their nerves. He noted Riley's on-edge, almost paranoid interest in the tunnels, Robin's weary cynicism and Raina's chipper, enthusiastic, go-getter attitude, no doubt springing from her confidence in her powers. The instructor's explanation clarified some things, although the exact nature of the program at Claremont remained pretty vague. Aníbal looked pensive. The mention of kids afraid of their powers and the need to master them made him reflect uncomfortably on his own. He wasn't afraid of his powers, and he already had a pretty good grasp of them. While developing these abilities was a shock, he had relaxed into it quite nicely and accepted his powers as just another luxury afforded to him by birth. The thought of other kids being far less fortunate than he was in this department made him a little unnerved. Soon they arrived at a large room filled with confusing high-tech machinery. This was, presumably, the place where the testing would be performed, but the drab, grey panels revealed little of the nature of the test at first glance. Would it be athletic? Combat? Obstacles? "Okay", Aníbal broke his silence, "What exactly will we be doing?"

Whoever the woman was, she had an air of authority, and seemed to have a plan in mind. Whether to trust her or not was a big question, but Aníbal went with his gut feeling and decided to go along with her initiative. After all, she seemed to trust him, even though she had no reason to. "Okay", he replied and flew with her towards the door. Just then they were joined by another flier, a blond girl. Aníbal nodded in a cursory greeting. There would be time for introductions and pleasantries later. The hatch opened and he flew inside, turned towards the door and extended his hand to aid in concentration. A few seconds later, Seahawk could probably feel the rushing air around her changing direction, with a strong counter-current helping to keep the hatch opened and the door attached to the plane. Let's hope your plan works, whatever it is, El Huracán thought, standing ready to assist her with closing the hatch once she got inside.

Notice Check 1d20+4=5 A natural 1! No Knowledge (technology), so no check made.

Eduardo Herrera was a man who lived life on a tight schedule, and didn't appreciate when that schedule was disrupted. When he was informed his private jet was, for the time being, grounded, he was none too pleased about it. He paced up and down the corridor, barking instructions in rapid-fire Spanish to one of his underlings in Mexico City over the phone while Aníbal and his mother stood back and watched the show. "He's always like this when he's late", Aníbal's Mom whispered to her son, who responded with a knowing grin and a nod. "... and tell Hernandez I want the contract for the China deal drawn up by tomorrow. Tomorrow, you hear?", the Herrera patriarch ended the call, his practiced accent slipping a bit to reveal traces of his origins, as it usually did when he got upset. "We can get coffee while we wait, Papa", Aníbal suggested, "What's going on, anyway?" "I don't know. But something's not right.", his father replied, casually glancing around the interior of the airport. Eduardo Herrera was a man with a finely honed talent for reading situations and people, noticing the little details and telltale signs about things. You didn't get to where he was today without paying attention to details and patterns, and today something seemed off. The Yankees were always paranoid about airport security, but today they seemed more nervous than usual. The airport staff wasn't very forthcoming when he demanded to know why the plane was grounded, but their assurance that other people's planes were in the same situation was revealing. The notice board soon turned red with delays, confirming his suspicions. Something had gone wrong. The family, accompanied by two burly bodyguards who kept a respectable distance, soon sat down at a nearby airport café and ordered drinks. People chattered about the situation at the neighboring tables, and rumors started to circulate. Air traffic control had lost contact with one of the planes. A malfunction, or terrorists? Something suspicious was happening in the skies above Freedom, that was for certain. Aníbal sipped his Coke and seemed contemplative, his gaze moving downwards towards the black Duffel bag he carried with him. Inside was his flight suit. He planned on going flying for a bit after saying goodbye to Mama and Papa. "Maybe I should go up there, see what's happening.", he remarked. "No. Absolutely not.", his father sternly replied after nearly choking on his coffee. "Why not? You said it yourself, something's not right." "And what are you? The police? Homeland Security?!", his father continued, "Don't be stupid, Aníbal. Just go to your school and take it easy. You don't need to prove anything to anyone." "I'm not trying to prove anything, Papa. I'm trying to help.", Aníbal replied. "No. Out of the question. Let the Yankees handle this themse... Aníbal!" Before his father could finish his sentence, Aníbal had finished off his drink and bolted towards the exit, bag in hand. "I'll be back to say goodbye. Don't worry!". he shouted to his parents. "Aníbal!", his father yelled before slumping into his chair, grumbling. "Such a stubborn boy!" "I wonder where he gets it from...", Mrs Herrera commented with a smirk and took a sip of her latte. *** A few minutes later, after a change of wardrobe, El Huracán was in the air, soaring above the airport like an eagle. It struck him that it may not have been the smartest decision to take to the skies before informing the authorities, but it was too late for that. Ascending, he tried to find the source of the disturbance. Eventually, after some fumbling around, he managed to find the one airplane still flying above Freedom City's biggest airport. It flew slowly, slower than normal, and seemed to be going round in circles. He approached cautiously, avoiding the exhaust of the jet engines and looked it over. Aníbal knew little about airplanes, except the general idea - big, metal birds powered by jet fuel that took you from A to B. He didn't know what to look for or where to look for it, so his inspection turned up nothing. Just then, he realised he had no idea what to do now that he was here. Perhaps his father was right: leave this to the professionals. Still, he did notice one thing: someone else was in the air with him, apparently with the same general idea. Or perhaps this person, who he did not recognise, was the cause of the problem? Whatever the case, he made his way to the front of the plane, next to the cockpit, and casually took his place at Seahawk's side. "Hello", he said, loud enough to be heard over the noise of the wind and the jet engines, "Lovely day for flying, isn't it?" He awaited the woman's reaction. Friend or foe?

"Raina, Robin and Riley. Pleased to meet you.", he repeated, rolling the Rs mellifluously as he pointed to each of them in turn. Aníbal accepted the proffered handshake, gripping Raina's hand firmly but gently. His hands were soft, almost girly, the hands of someone who never did a day of honest work in their life. He listened intently as Raina explained her powers. "My codename is El Huracán. I can control the air", he replied to her question, There was no time for a demonstration, however, as the chat was interrupted by the arrival of their tutor. Aníbal had come to terms with his own powers, and of course, the existence of individuals with superpowers was an accepted part of life for decades, but the sight of a hulking man with skin made of liquid metal still made an impression on him. He followed along and entered the elevator with the others. While he didn't show it, he did feel slightly nervous ahead of the exercise. What did the tests entail, exactly? Would his powers work just as well underground? Now he would see if his self-taught training over the past year did any good.

Aníbal was honestly looking forward to this "team building exercise" the instructors had mentioned. It seemed like a good way to build rapport with the other students, some of whom had probably gotten to know each other better in the last week or two. He had arrived from Mexico just yesterday, and probably didn't make the best first impression. A small motorcade of luxury cars parked in front of the school, burly Hispanic men hauling luggage behind an impeccably dressed young man... Not many of the students were there to witness the scene, but those that did would almost certainly be put off. Just who was this rich kid? For today's occasion, however, Aníbal wore the school uniform. It was a conscious choice. He didn't want to show off his fancy flight suit, and all of his other sporting attire was the kind of expensive stuff that made him stand out. Sports were about team spirit, unity and equality, and a uniform signaled he was, despite everything, just one of the students. Even in the utilitarian Claremont jumpsuit, Aníbal projected elegance and class. The uniform showed off his lean, athletic build, and the blue and gold colors looked radiant next to his bronze skin. He spotted some students had gathered already and walked up to them with an air of subdued but confident grace. His gaze fell on one of the girls, the tall blonde. Pretty, in a very American way. "Hello", he greeted the group with a pearly smile, speaking with a crisp, smooth Hispanic accent, "I don't believe we've met before. My name is Aníbal. Here for the team building?". His attention was divided between the three, although Riley and Robin could probably notice his eyes lingered on Raina for just a little bit longer than the others.

Confirmed interest. I won't be able to post before the weekend, but I'm sure the thread will take a few days to really get rolling anyway.

Erm, my character hasn't been approved yet, but when he is, I'd love to get El Huracan involved in the second one. He's a flier and a (possible) T-baby, so the Fellowship sounds like a perfect storyline for him.

Edits have been made. 1. Two complications mentioned merged into one. 2. Skills have been left as is. I realise it's mechanically better to pick the feats you mentioned, but I'm going with this setup for RP's sake. 3. Powers have been fixed. Aerokinesis is now an 11.5 point array, Air Control replaced with Move Object with flaw Action, to represent it takes longer to get the winds to that speed. Fixed the cost of other powers. 4. Limit on Immunity specified as Half Effect, environmental adaptation (high altitudes) removed. I think favored environment according to the house rules would cover that effect, if it even came up. 5. Defensive Roll has been dropped and the Protection in the suit bumped up to 6 (3 impervious). The Sensory Shield has been dropped to 3. The Super-Sense was in fact low-light vision, not full darkvision. The two PPs freed up were put into Inspire and 4 ranks of skills. I think that covers it. Thanks ahead.

Player Name: TheRedGuy Character Name: El Huracán Power Level: 10 (157/163PP) Trade-Offs: +2 Defense / -2 Toughness Unspent Power Points: 6 In Brief: Hotheaded Hispanic air controller studying at Claremont. Residence: Claremont Academy Base of Operations: Freedom City Catchphrase: TBD Alternate Identity: Aníbal Herrera Miramontes Identity: Secret Birthplace: Freedom City, USA Occupation: Claremont Student Affiliations: N/A. Family: Eduardo Herrera Moreno (father, age 55), María Elena Herrera Miramontes (mother, age 42), Alejandro Herrera Miramontes (brother, age 20) Description: Age: 16 (DoB: Feb 1st 1999) Apparent Age: late teens/early 20s Gender: Male Ethnicity: Hispanic Height: 5'9“ Weight: 175 lbs Eyes: Amber Hair: Jet Black Lean and muscular, Aníbal cuts a striking figure, appearing older and more mature than he really is. His skin is bronze, without visible blemishes save for a small mole above his upper lip. He keeps his hair neatly slicked back, and is always meticulously groomed. Perhaps his most unusual feature are his eyes, of a rare amber color, glimmering with warmth and mirth. His clothes are obviously expensive, but never gaudy, with no obnoxiously large labels or logos on display. He is usually dressed casually but conservatively, in a style reminiscent of North American „preppies“, though with a Latin twist to the colors and fabrics. His English is flawless, although spoken with a refined, velvet smooth Hispanic accent. Anyone meeting him for the first time would recognise immediately that he's a scion of the moneyed elite, a child of privilege. As El Huracán, he wears a specially designed flight suit. It is black, skin-tight, with gold accents on the boots and gloves, black goggles whose lenses appear gold-tinted on the outside, and a golden whirlwind symbol on the chest. Power Descriptions: Aníbal is a mutant aerokinetic, capable of controlling the flow of air currents to produce a variety of effects. He can create gale-force winds capable of knocking over opponents and pushing heavy objects, launch damaging blasts of compressed air, suffocate people by removing air from their lungs, deflect incoming projectiles and throw them back at the attacker, and cause a devastating whirlwind in an area of up to 125 feet in radius. His control over air also enables him to fly at speeds of up to 250 mph. His lungs have enhanced capacity, allowing him to hold his breath for longer periods of time and breathe normally even in extremely high altitudes. By sensing subtle variations in air flow, he can feel objects even if he can't see them. His custom-built flight suit comes with special glare-resistant goggles that adjust to allow improved vision in limited light conditions. The suit's padding affords limited protection from damage. It is lined with an experimental material that isolated the wearer from extreme heat and cold, as well as protecting from the effects of high pressure during fast aerial maneuvers. History: In 1993, during the Terminus invasion, Eduardo Herrera Moreno found himself in Freedom City, in the American headquarters of his firm, Herrera International. He had risen from humble beginnings and built a business exporting premium Mexican tequilas worldwide. Refusing the opportunity to evacuate the city, he stayed behind, helping the 50-odd employees of his Freedom City office escape to safety in the face of Omegadrone devastation. He himself sustained an injury during the attack, which reduced the Herrera International headquarters to rubble. His life was saved by the intervention of one of Freedom City's superheroes. While he was exposed to the strange energies of the Terminus, they seemed to have left no long-term consequences. After the attack was foiled, Herrera returned to Mexico a hero. The press praised his actions during the crisis and highlighted his generous donations to the reconstruction funds, particularly helping out the city's Hispanic neighborhoods. Overnight, the nouveau riche outsider became a fixture among the country's patrician elites. Soon he met a young socialite, María Elena Miramontes, daughter of Don Nicéforo Miramontes Castillo, owner of one of the largest agave plantations in Mexico and the associated Miramontes distillery. The two married in 1994, which boosted Herrera's standing and wealth considerably. In 1995, their first child, Alejandro, was born. In 1999, while María Elena was visiting her husband in Freedom City, she went into labor several weeks before she was due. On the eve of February 1st 1999, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, named Aníbal María Nicéforo Herrera Miramontes. The child was an American citizen by accident of birth. Little Aníbal grew up in Mexico, spending time in his father's luxury villa in Ciudad de Mexico and his grandfather's massive Rancho Miramontes. His father, an avid history buff, had named both his sons after famous conquerors, hoping to raise them to take over the family business. Aníbal was tutored by the finest private teachers, showing a precocious intellect and an aptitude for many different fields of study. He also enjoyed physical activity, learning to ride from an early age and excelling in sports, particularly gymnastics. He was, by all appearances, a normal kid, albeit one living in the lap of luxury and privilege. The only unusual ability he showed was an ability to hold his breath for extended periods of time, certainly nothing out of the ordinary. Still, after hitting puberty, strange phenomena began to occur. Strange gusts of wind would sometimes happen when he was nearby, often knocking over vases or sending papers flying. The wind would often change direction or intensity or abruptly stop. Still, no one connected this to him in any way. Until one fateful day… Aníbal had always particularly enjoyed the feeling of the wind in his hair and on his skin, and was always a passionate young man, a thrill-seeker by nature. He took up skydiving as a hobby, despite the protestations of his mother. On his first jump, accompanied by an instructor, there was a problem. The instructors parachute failed to open. Aníbal found himself thousands of feet in the air, plummeting towards the ground. He panicked. He could feel the air like never before, feel every current, every minute difference in pressure. Only one thought coursed through his mind: Up. Not down. Definitely up. He felt the grip of his instructor on his harness. He felt the currents change, the winds blowing from underneath, getting stronger and stronger, until the two of them suddenly stopped in mid-air, floating on the currents like a giant seagull. It was hard to tell who was more shocked by this development. „What the Hell are you, kid?!“, the instructor asked. „I don't know“, Aníbal answered in earnest. With some effort, Aníbal began to slowly descend, eventually landing in front of his shocked and horrified parents. A hefty payment was made to the instructor, who swore not to tell anyone what happened. Over the next couple of months, Aníbal came to terms with his abilities, learning to exert conscious control over them. He learned he could cause winds, powerful, devastating, gale-force winds, if he focused enough to do it. He learned to fly using the air currents, and asked his parents to finance the construction of a prototype flight suit designed to make flying through the air easier and safer. He learned to compress air and launch it with devastating force against obstacles. This was indeed great power, and he firmly decided it could not be suppressed or kept a secret. His grandfather had always spoken of noblesse oblige, the obligation of the powerful to protect those less fortunate than them. A superhero was a kind of nobleman for the 21st century. Aníbal decided to use his powers for good, to help people. His father was uncertain. He had wanted to groom his sons for power, but this was not the power he had in mind. Still, he had seen the destruction wrought by an immensely powerful threat checked and defeated by superheroes, one of whom had saved his life. He agreed to his son's request, on condition that he keep his identity a secret. Soon afterwards, he used his extensive contacts to arrange his son's transfer to an exclusive private school for gifted youngsters in Freedom City, a place where he would hone his abilities and learn to master them. Taking the name El Huracán, after the Mayan god of storms, Aníbal took the first step in his career as a hero. Personality & Motivation: Aníbal was given a patrician upbringing, and it shows in his manner and attitude. He carries himself with poise and elegance, although without a trace of arrogance or coldness. Naturally charismatic, he enjoys company and conversation and knows how to put most people at ease. He's classically handsome and charming in an old-fashioned way, which makes him popular with the girls – although he leans more towards boys. Still, his smooth approach may be seen as insufferably fancy and patronising by those of a more coarse, direct bent. Despite the fact his demeanor makes him appear more mature and levelheaded than the typical teenager, he is nevertheless still young, and has a passionate, impulsive streak liable to get him into trouble. He was always a little reckless, and the development of his powers has made him even more prone to rush headlong into danger at the first opportunity. His motivation for becoming a superhero is a sense of personal responsibility instilled in him by his grandfather, an old-fashioned landowner. While he has no interest in playing the role of a businessman or the padrón of a hacienda, he feels obligated to use his newfound powers to make the world a better place to live, and particularly to protect those less fortunate than he is. He's proud of his heritage, and eager to serve as a role model to young Latinos everywhere and an ambassador for his country and community. However, in addition to these lofty aspirations and ideals, another reason for his choice is a typical teenage boy's pursuit of excitement and adventure, and an opportunity to impress some handsome chicos or cute senoritas. Powers & Tactics: In a combat situation, El Huracán will stay out of range, relying on dodging enemy attacks or deflecting them by manipulating the wind. He attacks from a distance, hurling blasts of air or knocking down opponents with gusts of wind. Usually he stays in the air, hovering above the action and avoiding direct contact. While his suit offers him some protection, able to stop pistol bullets and cushion cuts and blows, he is rather fragile in an up close fight, easily overpowered by a trained or stronger foe. He has a love of flashy moves and daring stunts, and his natural confidence and rapier wit can get under the skin of opponents, as well as inspire his comrades. While he has a good grip on his powers, his youth and inexperience can land him in hot water. Complications: Anchors Aweigh: As a dual citizen of Mexican heritage, Aníbal may occasionally run into some anti-immigrant sentiment. Having to divide his loyalties between Mexico and the US may also pose a problem in some cases. Who Is That Handsome Young Devil?: He promised his parents to keep his true identity a secret. It's not easy. Target of Opportunity: As the son of one of the wealthiest men in Mexico, he's a ripe target for anyone trying to cause harm to his father. Salsa y Sabor: A combination of inherited passionate temperament and teenage recklessness makes him prone to showboating and flamboyant displays of his powers. He'll usually take unnecessary risks and rush into danger where a more considered approach would be superior. Rich Corinthian Leather: Aníbal had a privileged upbringing, and is used to living in the lap of luxury. While he is generous and sympathetic to those less fortunate than himself and never ostentatious with his money, he does enjoy the finer things in life. Because of his upper class lifestyle, he can find it hard to relate to those from poorer backgrounds, and they in turn may resent his wealth and good fortune. Touched By The Terminus: Although it hasn't been officially established, it is likely that Aníbal's powers stem at least in part from his father's exposure to Terminus energy years before. This may cause problems later on. Abilities: 4 + 8 + 4 + 6 + 2 + 8 = 32PP Strength: 14 (+2) Dexterity: 18 (+4) Constitution: 14 (+2) Intelligence: 16 (+3) Wisdom: 12 (+1) Charisma: 18 (+4) Combat: 8 + 12 = 20PP Initiative: +4 Attack: +4 Melee, +10 Ranged Grapple: +6 (+22 w/Air Control) Defense: +12 (+6 Base, +6 Dodge Focus), +3 Flat-Footed Knockback: -5 Saving Throws: 6 + 6 + 6 = 18PP Toughness: +8 (+2 Con, +6 Protective Padding (+3 impervious) ) Fortitude: +8 (+2 Con, +6) Reflex: +10 (+4 Dex, +6) Will: +6 (+0 Wis, +6) Skills: 48R = 12PP Acrobatics 1 (+5) Bluff 4 (+8) Computers 1 (+4) Concentration 2 (+3) Diplomacy 4 (+8) Handle Animal 2 (+6) Knowledge (art) 1 (+4) Knowledge (business) 1 (+4) Knowledge (civics) 1 (+4) Knowledge (current affairs) 1 (+4) Knowledge (history) 1 (+4) Knowledge (popular culture) 3 (+6) Knowledge (theology & philosophy) 1 (+4) Language 4 (English, Spanish [Native], French, German, Latin) Notice 6 (+8) Perform (dance) 3 (+8) Perform (oratory) 1 (+5) Perform (keyboards) 4 (+9) Perform (singing) 2 (+6) Ride 1 (+5) Sense Motive 2 (+4) Feats: 21PP Attack Focus (Ranged) 6 Attractive Benefit (Dual Citizenship: US-Mexico) Benefit 2 (Wealthy Parents) Connected Distract (Bluff) Dodge Focus 6 Favored Environment (air) Inspire Taunt Powers: 37 + 12 + 1 + 4 = 54PP Aerokinesis 11.5 (23PP Array); Feats: Alternate Power 7, Dynamic 8; Drawbacks: Power Loss (in vacuum) -1) [37PP] (air, mutant) Dynamic Base Power: Move Object 11 (Air Control; Extras: Range (perception); Feats: Precise; Flaws: Action (full) ) {23/23} (air) DAP: Blast 10 (Air Blast; Feats: Indirect 3) {23/23} (air) DAP: Blast 5 (Tornado; Extras: Area [25-125 ft. radius Burst], Duration; Feats: Progression - Increase Area 2, Progression - Increase Range) {23/23} (air) DAP: Suffocate 5 (Suffocation; Extras: Range 2 (perception) ) {20/23} (air) DAP: Flight 5 (Wind Riding) {10/23} (air) DAP: Deflect 4 (Wind Screen; Extras: Reflect, Action 3 (reaction), slow projectiles) {20/23} (air) DAP: Trip 10 (Blow Away; Range 100 ft; Extras: Knockback; Feats: Indirect 3 (any point, any direction) ) {23/23} (air) DAP: Trip 5 (Gale; Range 50 ft; Extras: Knockback, Area [50-100 ft Cone], Selective Attack; Feats: Accurate (+2), Improved Trip, Progression - Increase Area ) {23/23} (air) Device 3 (Huracán Flight Suit; 15PP Container; Hard-To-Lose) [12PP] Sensory Shield 3 + Super-Senses 1 (Goggles; +6 vs visual effects; low-light vision) [4PP] (technology) Protection 6 (Protective Padding; Extras: Impervious (3 ranks) ) [9PP] Immunity 3 (Protective Lining; cold, heat, high pressure; Flaws: Limited - Half Effect) [2PP]. Immunity 1 (suffocation (drowning); Enhanced Lung Capacity; Extras: Flaws: Limited - Half Effect ) [1PP] (mutant) Super-Senses 5 (Sense Air Flow; Blindsight (tactile), Danger Sense (tactile); Drawback: Power Loss (in vacuum) -1 ) [4PP] (mutant, air) DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Attack Touch DC 17 Toughness Damage (Physical) Air Blast Ranged DC 25 Toughness Damage (Physical) Suffocate Percept. DC 15 Fortitude Suffocation Tornado Area DC 20 Toughness Damage (Physical) Blow Away Ranged DC 25 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) 1d20+10 vs. STR or DEX Trip Gale Ranged DC 20 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) 1d20+5 vs. STR or DEX (worse) Trip Totals: Abilities (32) + Combat (20) + Saving Throws (18) + Skills (12) + Feats (21) + Powers (54) = 157/163 Power Points

Thanks! I'll introduce myself upon posting the character - which will be soon, I hope. Anyways... Erm, I has a kwesshun. :? I've decided to give my character mind control powers. For one of these, I'd like a touch-range power which would be similar to possession - he could take over the body of a person holding him, suppressing his/her mind, and thus talk and be able to overcome his drawbacks (no hands, mute), but he wouldn't actually merge with the body and the possessed would have to be willing (so basically limited to his minions and sidekicks). How do I do this? Limited Mind Switch or Limited Possession? Or something else entirely?

Hello, I'm almost done with my character, but there's one thing I'm not certain of that I'd like clarified before submitting him. I've read that minions cannot have minions of their own, but is it kosher for sidekicks to have minions? My character is a sentient and highly intelligent white Persian cat, running his own nefarious SPECTRE-esque criminal organisation. I'd like to simulate a sort of "command structure", with a number of high-ranking sidekicks who command generic mooks, but I'm not sure if it's allowed. Thanks ahead, M. EDIT: Nevermind, read on Atomic Think Tank that sidekicks can't have minions. I'll make do with less. :)