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Happy New Year! I meant to post this last night, but I got lazy. My first character is approved and the holidays are almost past us, so I'm hoping for a few adventures, with pretty much anybody. Leviathan can pop up just about anywhere in the city, as either human or monster, and is sufficiently eager to be a hero that he's on board for about anything. He's a pretty standard bruiser (albeit tougher than he is strong, so perhaps I should call him a meat shield) who really, really wants to be Batman, but he approaches being a Cowl like it's a fashion statement rather than a full archetype. He doesn't have the experience, versatility of skills, or healthy sense of paranoia that makes most good Cowls, and hopefully, as his Complications and Reputation charts suggest, any of those could cause trouble for him during play. If anybody wants to pair him up with a real Cowl, he could learn from their example, but other kinds of heroes would interest him too. As a lifelong superhero nerd, Leviathan should jump at the chance to partner with about anybody, and ideally learn more about being a hero in the process. Street level stories are fine (I tried to build him so he'd be able to wade through crowds of Minions, laughing all the way), as are supervillain stories; I'd like to pit him against another tough, heavy-hitting build eventually. I'm still getting familiar with the M&M system, though. Hopefully that won't take too much patience on the GM's part.

Leviathan Power Level: 12/15 (206/231PP) Trade-Offs: -5 Defense / +5 Toughness Unspent Power Points: 25PP In Brief: If Bruce Banner really, really wanted to be the Hulk. Residence: A fantastic Midtown apartment comprising the top three stories of a high-rise complex. Base of Operations: Underwater biological, living headquarters crated from his own body. Catchphrase: None Alternate Identity: Doctor Tristan Delacroix Identity: Secret Birthplace: Freedom City Occupation: Biologist, geneticist, non-practicing doctor, and all-around rich kid. Affiliations: The Freedom Cross Institute. Family: Alexander and Delvin Delacroix (older brothers, ages 33 and 30).  Description: Age: 24 (DoB: May 7, 1994 Apparent Age: Anywhere from his actual age to mid-teens, in the right lighting and outfits (to say nothing of when he Morphs). Gender: Male Ethnicity: Caucasian (French ancestry) Height: 5’ 9” / 9’ 6” Weight: 118 lbs. / 700 lbs. Eyes: Brown / White with long, black, rectangular pupils Hair: Black / None In his daily life, Tristan is a slim, well-dressed, bespectacled young man with a face that will force him to show his driver’s license for every age-restricted purchase until he’s roughly sixty-five. Most bars and nightclubs refuse to let him in at all without a bribe, thanks to his general demeanor of intelligence that screams “I can probably make fake IDs.” His clothes, shoes, wristwatch, and personal electronics are visibly expensive, and so combined with his unintimidating appearance, he rarely walks alone at night for fear of being mugged or kidnapped (for which he’s had a special insurance policy since he was eleven years old). Leviathan, on the other hand, is a great big scaly monster with fists like cinderblocks. Unsurprisingly, he very rarely gets mugged, and not just because he has no pockets. Power Descriptions: If you’ve seen one gang member get punched through a wall, you’ve seen them all. More interesting is Leviathan’s regeneration. His flesh knits itself back together with incredible speed—and first, any attack must pierce his thick plate-scales. Tristan, in his human form, also has the useful ability to mold his features as he wishes. It was a stepping stone on his way to mastering the Leviathan transformation; these days he mostly uses it to leave his apartment complex without alerting the other tenants, and then onto some isolated place where he can fully become his hero self, away from prying eyes. It’s also handy for avoiding his pesky older brothers. History: Private tutors from the time he could talk, Cornell by age twelve, Harvard Medical School by fifteen (mostly to prove he could), and at eighteen, the star of R&D at his family’s company, The Freedom Cross Institute…Tristan’s natural intellect let him zip through life from child prodigy to wealthy scientist so fast that he hardly had time to mourn his parents’ passing. His father died when he was seven (bone cancer) and his mother at nine (tripping on her way out of the shower; not the most glamorous death). A series of nannies, teachers, and full-time house servants primarily raised him anyway, which helped ease the transition. His parents had their hands full with the FCI, funded by old money dating all the way back to their family’s origins in Freedom City during the Revolutionary War. They nurtured it better than their own children, hoping to make the world a better place via lifesaving pharmaceuticals and various biotech. Finding tumors scattered up and down Wyatt’s spine probably redoubled those efforts. Had they kept their eyes turned closer to home on occasion, though, then perhaps Tristan would be less independent, and his brothers less sour. Today, Alexander Delacroix owns the old family mansion on Lantern Hill. The middle brother Delvin grudgingly accepts an equally opulent but less historic home in North Bay. They manage the Institute with their combined majority shares, including Tristan’s, as he has no interest in the tedious board meetings and other tasks. The brothers occasionally drag him out for public functions, but for the most part, he’s the cow whose milk supports their operations. So long as he occasionally turns in a new piece of useful research, they’re content to let him hide in his lab or amuse himself in the city. His disdain for business and his ignorance concerning the end results of his hard work suits their purpose very well. And thus, the problem: unbeknownst to him, his older brothers have eaten the core of something potentially wonderful and are slowly rotting it from the inside out. The FCI was never a charity, but Alex and Delvin took whatever pretenses of goodwill it may’ve once had, stretched them into a thin veil to hide from public inquiry, and now use the corporation to rake in vast amounts of wealth even beyond their ancestral standards. Greed consumes them; the Institute’s applications of Tristan and his fellow scientists’ research are paltry compared to that of the many shadowy groups that purchase anything they might find useful. Biological weapons, controlled mutations, designer drugs—it makes no difference to the brothers, not that they typically know the outcomes at all. Sometimes they’re unaware of their clients entirely—such as the Labyrinth, which has a casual interest in this useful, though ultimately expendable, pawn. Meanwhile, Tristan has long been motivated not just by pride in his work (a factor, still) but by his own secret use of it. He spent his childhood largely isolated from the outside world, yet still aware that he lived in the center of Earth’s superhero activity. His lack of natural talents—beyond intelligence, which he couldn’t appreciate without an outsider’s perspective—depressed him for years, until he at last decided to take matters into his own hands. If nature wouldn’t give him what he needed, then he’d create it himself. He chose deliberately to specialize in biology and genetics, with a particular interest in marine subjects. One discovery led to another, and another, and another—he leapt from fine-tuning his immune system onto manipulating the operations of his cells, and then to his very genome. Finally, early this year, he achieved true transformation (and slightly less important, the reverse back to his original self). Since then he’s enjoyed a handful of “field tests,” which he performs with a level of glee he feels isn’t proper for a hero who wants to be taken seriously. He does his best not to giggle when he places anonymous calls to the police and races off into the night, leaving behind wrecked warehouses full of unconscious gang members. Personality & Motivation: Leviathan’s foremost motivation is heroism in and of itself—not so much for the goodness of a deed (which he feels to an extent and tries to cultivate in his heart), but the pride he takes in having, at long last, joined the ranks of Freedom City’s many defenders. He worries he doesn’t live up to the ideal he pictures (in particular, he envies the Cowls and tries to emulate them, with mixed success). Thanks to a decent amount of self-awareness, he realizes that being a hero is the sort of thing one achieves by having heroic goals, rather than the goal being heroism. That only frustrates him all the more; the breakneck speed of his youthful education hasn’t cultivated much patience, and he’s accustomed to more straightforward endeavors thanks to a lifetime of school tests and neatly-contained classes. Trying to be spontaneous is the opposite of spontaneity, and it drives him up the wall. His lifelong fascination with heroes causes him to react predictably to them: anyone who’s well-established, or just vaguely familiar, is bound to get a positive (if deliberately gruff; he tries to maintain his image) reception. Even unproven heroes like himself should have no problem making a new friend, although in their case, Leviathan finds it easier to see them as equals rather than heroes to a hero. In contrast, Tristan in his daily life is relaxed, confident, and dry. He’s surprisingly personable for being so isolated; growing up fast meant he spent his time with older children, and then full adults, and so, his attitude seems more mature than his face. He loves his work, so he naturally spends hours upon hours in his lab (either publicly at the FCI or privately in his nigh-supernatural underwater facility, where he conducts Leviathan-related studies), but at least once a week he wanders through the city. Often he wears a different face, but this habit began even before that talent; his brothers have long-since come to terms with him turning up in random places, Bill Murray style. In doing so, he clears his head and entertains himself by meeting unfamiliar people. Now that he can become the mighty and terrible Leviathan, he tours also in the hope of stumbling across something dastardly so he can punch the problem until it magically turns into a police report. Powers & Tactics: Leviathan’s body is full of “smart” stem cells and a redesigned nervous system capable of directing them. At their most basic, they allow him to change his features; lately, they repair grievous injuries and let him transform into a much larger, stronger, tougher version of himself—and even in his regular form, Tristan is hardier than the vast majority of humans. In terms of tactics, his are elegantly simple for someone who’s clever enough to normally get tangled in elaborate systems: find the bad people and punch them. He’s yet to find someone who can hit back hard enough to make him regret this decision. Thanks to deliberate exploitation of his muscle memory, Tristan is very good at physical abuse, and not terrible at range. At least he recognizes the potential for situations he can’t knuckle his way through, but it’s just so satisfying. He’s nonetheless eager to expand on these core abilities. From sea life alone, he has a wealth of inspiration: will he next try to make his scales change color like an octopus, to hide his enormous body and pounce on criminals unseen? Will he take on the electrical touch of an eel? He already modeled his scales after limpet teeth, and his regeneration on the humble starfish. All kinds of sources are possible, but it’s traditional to stick with a theme, he supposes… Complications: [HQ] At the Speed of Plot: GMs shouldn't use the Healing Power of Leviathan's lair as it usually applies; moderate Regeneration speeds are more appropriate. In general, visitors to the headquarters should recover as quickly as the story allows--and if this is noticeably slower than Healing would usually permit, then a Hero Point might be appropriate. Perfect for heroes licking their wounds after a defeat and preparing to go after the villain for Round 2! The same guidelines can also apply to the Immunities granted by the lair; they stem from an extremely healthy environment rather than any magic, and should be treated as such. Note also that Immunity to Fatigue does not apply to Extra Effort, as detailed in the forum's House Rules. [HQ] Wrong Kind of Lockpicks: Leviathan's lair, being a living plant-like creature in its own right, shouldn't fear traditional intrusion methods. However, just because Disable Device won't work hardly makes it impregnable. Enemies with life magic, or medical and biological skills similar to Leviathan's own talents, should be able to apply those talents to enter uninvited. The Computers skill continues to work normally, with respect to hacking; Leviathan's electronics might not actually be electronic any longer, but they function the same in terms of what havoc an experienced programmer can accomplish with a keyboard. “Aaaaaaahh!”: Leviathan sits on the fence between imagining himself as a brooding, outcast-by-the-society-that-misunderstands-him Cowl and wanting to be recognized and beloved by Freedom City for his good deeds. He leans toward the latter when civilians and cops alike see him, assume he’s on the wrong side, and greet him not with cheers, but with screams and gunfire. Foolhardy: There’s something about being able to take a rocket to the face, get back up after a moment, and walk away that makes a person overconfident. Combined with his burning need to prove himself as a hero, Leviathan can easily jump head-first into more than he can handle. His reflexes and willpower aren’t nearly as good as his physical durability, and there are ways to defeat a hero without leaving a scratch. Leviathan is more likely to underestimate such threats than most; he probably won’t take this lesson to heart until he’s learned the hard way a few times. Secret Identity: Tristan rightly suspects that his board of directors, let alone his brothers, wouldn’t appreciate knowing that he occasionally spends his nights as a punch-happy lizard monster. He takes great pains to hide his activities, and a credible threat to his privacy will scare him more than any gun in the city. Abilities: 0 + 0 + 10 + 10 + 6 + 4 = 30PP Strength: 10/34 (+0/+12) Dexterity: 10 (+0) Constitution: 20/44 (+5/+17) Intelligence: 20 (+5) Wisdom: 16 (+3) Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: 10 + 8 = 18PP Initiative: +0 Attack: +12 Melee (+5 Base, +8 Attack Focus, -1 Growth); +4 Ranged (+5 Base, -1 Growth); +8 Improvised Throwing Weapons (+5 Base, +4 Attack Specialization, -1 Growth) Grapple: +12/+27 Defense: +7 (+4 Base, +4 Dodge Focus, -1 Growth), +2 Flat-Footed Knockback: -2/-11 Saving Throws: 0 + 4 + 4 = 8PP Toughness: +5/+17 (+5/+17 Con, +0) Fortitude: +5/+17 (+5/+17 Con, +0) Reflex: +4 (+0 Dex, +4) Will: +7 (+3 Wis, +4) Skills: 132R = 33PP Computers 10 (+15) Craft (Chemicals) 10 (+15) Diplomacy 11 (+13) Disguise 0 (+2/+12) Intimidate 8 (+10/+12) Knowledge (Earth Sciences) 10 (+15) Knowledge (Life Sciences) 19 (+24) Knowledge (Physical Sciences) 10 (+15) Knowledge (Technology) 10 (+15) Language (Latin) 1 Medicine 19 (+22) Notice 12 (+15) Sense Motive 12 (+15) Feats: 24PP All-Out Attack Attack Focus (Melee) 8 Attack Specialization (Improvised Throwing Weapons) 2 Benefit (Alternate Identity (Alien Space Lizard!), Charity CEO, Wealth 3) 5 Dodge Focus 4 Equipment 8 (VA) Improved Grapple Interpose Takedown Attack 2 Equipment: 8PP = 40EP Headquarters: 6PP = 30EP Size: Huge [3] Toughness: 20 [3] Features: Communications, Computer 2 (Masterwork), Concealed 2 (+20), Dock, Gym, Infirmary 2 (Masterwork), Isolated, Laboratory 2 (Masterwork), Library 2 (Masterwork), Living Space, Pool, Power* (Healing 12; Affects Others Only), Power* (Immunity 5 [Disable Device 5]; Immunity 7 [Aging 1 (Half-Effect), Disease 1, Fatigue 5; Affects Others Only]) Power System, Security System, Self-Repairing, Workshop 2 (Masterwork, Chemicals Only). [24] * See Complications Submarine: 2PP = 10EP Defense: 8 Size: Huge [2] Speed: Swimming 4 (25MPH) [4] Strength: 40 [2] Toughness: 14 [1] Features: Remote Control [1] Powers: (All Mutations) 86 + 4 + 3 = 93PP Leviathan Transformation Container 17.8 (Active; Drawback: Activation [Full Action, -3]) [86PP] Enhanced Constitution 20 [20PP] Enhanced Strength 16 [16PP] Growth 4 (Large; Strength +8, Constitution +4) [16PP] Immunity 3 (Cold, High Pressure, Suffocation [Water]) [3PP] Leaping 3 (10x) [3PP] Regeneration 15 (Bruised 3, Injured 6, Staggered 6 [No Action]; Feats: Regrowth) [16PP] Speed 3 (50 MPH, 500 Ft./Move Action; PFs: Alternate Power 2) [5PP] AP: Burrowing 3 (5MPH, 50 Ft./Move Action in Soil (Less in Harder Materials)) [3PP] AP: Swimming 3 (10MPH, 100 Ft./Move Action) [3PP] Super-Senses 10 (Olfactory [Accurate 2, Blindsight 4, Extended 2 {1,000}, Tracking 2 {3 total}]) [10] Morph 2 (Any Humanoid) [4PP] Super-Senses 3 (Olfactory [Acute, Danger Sense, Tracking 1]) [3] Drawbacks: = -0PP DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC 27 Toughness Damage (Physical) Totals: Abilities (30) + Combat (18) + Saving Throws (8) + Skills (33) + Feats (24) + Powers (93) - Drawbacks (0) = 206/231 Power Point

previously on Something Fishy GM Bessie crossed the Lindroos Bridge, passed through Kingston bringing an unusual sight to the uniform suburbs, and finally arrived in North Bay, where the houses and buildings left place for a red, yellow and brown wall, made of maple and oak trees, hiding the mansions and villas behind a barrier of autumn colors shining beautifully in the sunlight. Bessie lifted clouds of dry leaves as Steam drove her towards the ambassador’s address. The mansion called the Purple Porch appeared behind a high laurel hedge. It was a Victorian mansion, built in Queen Anne style; it was painted with a faint yellow in and growing up to two stories and an attic set below a very steep roof covered in dark tiles; Bessie seemed almost more fit to be in the yard than the Audi A8 currently parked there. The mansion was slightly below road level, built so that the back yard would end in a small beach facing Great Bay. "Purple Porch" was probably inaccurate as a nickname, though. "Giant Purple Portico" was more precise in describing how the villa greeted the guests: a large portico held by five columns, all covered in a climbing plant still brightly green, and sporting giant purple flowers as wide as Frisbee disks, in complete contrast to the surrounding flora, flowerless and covered in autumnal colors. The fine gravel cracked under the shoes as the trio got out of the car.

October 15th (Saturday), 2011, 6:45 AM Outside the Riverdance Cafè The very first lights of dawn emerged from the far horizon line, painting of a lighter blue sky and sea alike and pushing the darkness towards the Wharton State Forest. In the cold air of a Saturday morning, Riverside looked significantly less stylish and enjoyable than just a few hours before: of the plethora of students and artists who stood drinking and talking and playing in the paved streets all that was left were cigarette butts and a couple of abandoned beer bottles and cocktail glasses. Very few people were already awake, and even fewer were still awake. Among the latter was detective Beck. His tall and thin figure stood in the silence, the red and blue lights of his parked car flashing upon his cheap brown suit. A couple of uniformed cops were securing the area, a third one was talking with a dazzled garbage man. Beck caressed his mustache. He was trying to grow it to look older, but he still looked very much like a rookie. The corpse before his eyes had dark green hair, slightly webbed hands and was wearing a breastplate carved out of a Turtleshark shell. Here’s my first night shift he thought. Ugh. Atlantean. Days would go by before we get authorization to pursue this investigation...