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Sunday February 18, 2024 Late afternoon After over a day and a half of fun in the water and sun at the Harrow estate on Wakaya Island, Fiji (in addition to some more serious topics), it was unfortunately time for the Claremont Academy students to return back to Freedom City for the start of the next school week. After about an hour or so of chaos, everyone was eventually gathered back on the large deck at the back of the main house for Lawrence Harrow to teleport them all back to campus. As the group of teens stepped into the temporal portal Lawrence created once again, they initially felt a similar sensation to what they had the day before when transported to the South Pacific. But suddenly, rather than stepping out the other side of the portal back at the Main Quad at Claremont, the teens felt as if something tugged on them, causing each to stumble forward and as the world reformed around them and they were not at Claremont Academy. Lawrence Harrow, Parker Powers, Mizuki Iwasaki, Baltazar Botez, Consuelo Nunez, Ryan Jacobs, Vueriz, and Michael Adon all found themselves in a dead end alleyway between a pair of three story buildings. Out past the open end, they could see and hear a large crowd of people gathered, though none seemed to notice the sudden appearance of the teens. The weather was cool, but much warmer than the February cold they had expected. The teens were still in the clothes they had been wearing, and Vueriz had her skyboard, but all the rest of their bags and other things were nowhere to be seen. Wearing a pair of jeans and a red Arsenal hoody, Lawrence looked about the alleyway, a concerned expression on his face before he seemed to focus on something distant and out of view. "This is not right." He simply stated, a hint of concern evident in his refined British accent.

Saturday, September 11, 2023 Southside, Freedom City The first week of classes, somehow, was over. The feline vigilante known as La Puma Negra reclined languidly on the big couch in the common area on the first floor of Kord Dormitory, non-commitally flipping through a magazine. Suddenly, her hair stood on end. Ugh. She knew this feeling. It had to be that weird girl on her floor . . . Rot floated into the common area. She saw a wild tangle of black hair sticking up above the back of the big couch. "Oh hey, Carmen! I was just looking for you." As the matter-disrupting teen with the green dreadlocks flew closer, the feeling of unease just got worse. "Uh, I know I'm kinda skeezy, and I know my bad vibe might be worse for, uh, cat people than for, like, non-cat people, but, uh, I've got this favor I was going to ask you. . . ." Although she's floating in the air, the grungy teen still manages to look like she's walking on egg shells. "So, uh, the first time I tried crime fighting, I kinda ended up getting a little bit, uh, arrested, and I like, broke a bunch of stuff. . . . And that incident at the Albright Institute has got me more worried about my powers than ever. . . Anyway, now that I'm at Claremont, I was kind of trying to be a little less, uh, spastic with the hero stuff. So, um, people say that you do, like, crime patrols. . . Uh, it's there any chance maybe I could like, you know, tag along one time maybe? Like maybe you could, like, give me some pointers on like how to do it without screwing everything up?" Consuelo finally takes a breath. She seems to remember something. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot about the best part. I've got these bracelets now, of you wear it, that creepy aura that comes off me won't effect you. . . Um, if you want. . . " And Consuelo holds out a friendship bracelet made of black fabric.

Mid-late January, 2024 The End of January brings the beginning of February. As the first month ends, so to do many resolutions fall by the wayside. But change has not stopped occurring just because a new year has begun! In fact, often the last shackles of the prior year's poor decisions can only be thrown off during the first month of the new one! Our new group of heroes, having encountered a group of delinquents, are now in a position to restore some level of normalcy to the lives of 5 troubled young girls. ------------------------------------- Ashley did not like losing. She didn’t lose often, of course, and whenever she did it put her in a foul mood. She had excuses, of course. Ashley didn’t lose, she reasoned to herself. It was the other three; they couldn’t keep up their end of the engagement. She was fighting off two of them at once and winning, the other three had a numbers advantage and they couldn’t keep up with them. They were pathetic. What was even the point of all of them having powers if they were so useless! Power should go to the strongest! That was why she had the powers she did, after all. Those who weren’t deserving, shouldn’t have power. ------------------------------------- Felix didn’t care about losing, but he was annoyed. He wasn’t the strongest, after all, but he liked his niche; he liked the new powers he had. And he had barely gotten to use them at all before that British kid had made him so slow he couldn't even move. Which was whatever. Paradox had acted all high and mighty about it ‘that’s inevitable, you aren’t on his level; your borrowed speed can't compete with his natural abilities'. Paradox didn’t know anything about anything, no matter what he acted like. What really grinded his gears was the Bug Boy. The one who had actually knocked him out. That bug didn't really understand anything about how cool FX was. GBB? GBB was garbage compared to FX! He thought he was cool, but Felix was actually the cool one! He just didn’t get how cool Felix was. He was gonna show him how wrong he was about that. ------------------------------------- Ashley had always been entranced by the Starstone ever since she first saw it. It had as many facets in it as there were stars in the sky- something she realized was meaningful-, and when you looked through one of the facets you could see a constellation. Each facet had a different one stored in it. It was also a clear source of tremendous energy, something the girl given the codename Eclipse was always desperate for. It had given her a tremendous amount with the Draco constellation, but it clearly had more; there were 88 constellations in the sky, but there were only 7 Starlights right now. So there had to be more juice in the gem than it was giving. It sat on the stage of what had once been a bustling theater just off Michigan Street; a prismatic gem that shifted through the hues of every color imaginable- and some beyond that-, about the size of a man's chest. Ashley didn’t know where it came from- the other girls did, but they seemed uninterested in telling her-, but she didn’t care anyway. She floated over to it and placed her hands on it, concentrating and breathing in its energies. “...Now come on, give me what you’re hiding...” “Ashley!? What the heck are you doing!?” someone called behind her, but she wasn’t paying attention to them. She had something bigger going on, after all. All this stuff; the color coding, the ‘Starblights’. They were small time. She was Eclipse, and she was big time. ------------------------------------- Lawrence had been right about one thing; Michael had thought Mizuki was insanely cool for getting the abandoned boat house out of the Headmistress and the faculty. He hadn’t gotten all overbearing about it, but he was clearly appreciative of Mizuki being willing to share something she had obtained with her own hard work with her friends. What was maybe less exciting was the realization that both of the groups had been harassed by color-coded schoolgirls- and one guy-, though appropriate congratulations had also been given to Baz, Mizuki, and Lawrence that they had handled their group so easily while the one at the Aquarium had been a bit more troublesome. It had also been noted that Parker, Consuelo, and Carmen had been excellent, though. Parker had even managed to open a line of communication to one of them thanks to his gentle nature. That was what the group was doing now, after school two days later, waiting for Parker to call the girl who had given him her number to continue their communications. When everyone had arrived and was prepared- including whatever preparations they had made for this-, the number was dialed, and after three rings, it was picked up. “Alright, listen. I’m gonna talk for a second and then you can ask questions, but we need to be quick about it.” The voice definitely belonged to the orange wearing Orion from the Aquarium. “About 2 years ago, a weasel named Enoch approached me, Kitty, Ashley One, Zoe, and Jenny. He said he was being hunted by magical things from another dimension and turned us into the Starbrights. We got super powers that he gave us from a gem called the Umbra Star.” she clearly sucks in breath through her teeth. “It sucked. A bunch of terrible stuff happened to us because of it, and Enoch wasn’t exactly great at being a mentor. We were constantly fighting monsters sent by this evil queen named Solus, they were threatening and hurting our friends and family. Then, about a year ago, one of her monsters killed Enoch. And we didn’t even have him anymore. So we gave up. Stopped bothering to fight the monsters, didn’t really go to school. We only had each other. But sometimes the monsters still found us.” She talks fast but it’s not hard to understand her, and her frustration is clear even in just her words; she’s not a delinquent lashing out because it’s fun, she’s a girl their age who is hurt and wounded. “Ashley II and Felix weren’t part of our group. They ended up caught up when one of those monsters attacked us. But the Umbra Star that gives us our powers gave them powers too. They already had powers, so it just made them even stronger. We all could see they were a problem, even beyond us, but we couldn’t really do anything about it; we don’t decide who gets the powers and who doesn’t, only Enoch could figure that out and he never told us. So we had to stick with them. But it’s not gonna fly anymore. They’re way too violent, and they’re clearly working for some other purpose.” she was quiet again, for a second. “...If you take them out, get them arrested, beat them down and take them away to Juvie or some prison or something, maybe the connection will break. And we can be free of them. The others won’t ask this because they’re concerned about each other; no one wants to get blasted by Ashley or watch someone else get blasted. But I’ll do it, because we need the help. We don’t want to fight you. The others don’t know I’m talking to you, but if I show up with you, they won’t side with Ashley and Felix. If you help us, we’ll call it even and split, no hard feelings.” she paused. She was tense, extremely. And it honestly could have been seen as quite suspicious that a girl that had just been trying to punch everyone was now asking for help. "...Okay, sorry. I can answer any questions now." She finally said.

OOC Thread for Family Matters

OOC for the other thread. We're going to split up after a bit but we'll keep this as the first thread; there will be a split when the team splits up, then reconverge in here. For now, feel free to give a little blurb about anything you would have done in between, or anything you would have brought to this little meet-up. If it needs a roll, we'll figure it out

Okay, pulling this out. @RocketLord @The Sailor @Huckleberry @MoonSimply Dragon Star Initiative 1d20+7: 23 [1d20=16] Puma: 29 Dragon Star: 23 Spaceman: 20 Rot: 20 Torpedo Lass II: 17 I have intentionally left it vague how you are entering; feel free to enter dynamically and cooly as you wish to; you don't have to just walk down the narrow corridor to the boss arena, you can break in through the ceiling or emerge from a hidden area upstairs and leap at her or whatever. Be explosive!

( @RocketLord @MoonSimply @Huckleberry @The Sailor ) Starlight Theater on Michigan street had once been a place of culture. 50 years ago, it held many popular plays. Lauren Hammond once performed there, in an adaptation of Carmilla, staring as the titular Vampiress. But not long after Hammond gave her curtain call, the theater followed not long after. Silver Scream had haunted the theater once, but eventually stopped; the despair of her major starring performance in the theater also being a horror-themed play made the spirit unwilling to stay there for long. Despite that, or rather, because she had been there before, no one had wanted to invest in the theater. That made it the perfect place for a group of disaffected, burnt-out teens to set up shop when the pressures of super-heroing and school life became too much. It had been the same reason that Ashley and Felix had gone to take a look around, unaware of the Starblights, that led to them gaining powers. And now, sitting on the stage was a gem that was the source of a beam of violet energy that shattered the roof and reached into the sky. While the gem was prismatic, it was slowly turning dark as pitch; with each star that fell from the sky to become one of those strange star zombies, one of the facets of the Gem turned black. This was what happened when Magic was twisted to dark purposes; the darkness became self-perpetuating, and given enough time, the Umbra Star would turn into the center of a Netherworld. But the star wasn't the biggest attraction, it was the Dragon. The Dragon was less solid than pure energy, made of a deep, rich purple. It had defined scales, each representing one of the constellations in the sky; it was western in appearance; two forelimbs, two back limbs, and two giant wings, a long, twisting neck, and a tapered snout. It's long tail didn't really end; it twisted and turned and disappeared into the Umbra Star like a tether, attaching the giant dragon to the gem in the center of the stage. There was a form in the very center of it; a human shaped bundle of darkness that was the source of it. And when the dragon opened it's mouth and Draco's voice boomed out of it, it was clear who that human was. "IT DOESN'T MATTER ANYMORE. I've never felt better! This gem is the greatest source of power I could have ever hoped for! I'm going to live up to my name now; I'm going to Eclipse the sun itself!" Then the dragon pulled back it's mouth and roared, loud enough to vibrate the entire theater. This was it's roar of challenge to Spaceman, Torpedo Lass II, Rot, and Puma. Amid the destroyed theater; seats of rotted wood, the collapsed second story boxes, the forgotten, faded posters, there was a Dragon, and there were those who wanted to stop it.

Kord Dormitories, Fifth Floor Claremont Academy, Freedom City, New Jersey Wednesday, September 6, 2023 The first week of school at Claremont Academy was proving to be a whirlwind. At least that’s what sixteen-year-old Rosalind Sommaripa, sometimes known as the high-flying superhero Starshine, would have told you. Class had been out for a half-hour, and the no-nonsense teenager was taking a brief break in her dorm room to gather her thoughts and refine her plan for the rest of the week . . . again. Her reverie was interrupted by a knock at the door, which turned out to not be fully closed and swung open, revealing her green-dreadlocked dorm mate Consuelo, hovering just above the floor. “Oh, hey, uh, Rosie . . . Do you think this might be a good time, now to, uh, . . . I mean do you think it would work out, if you had time, to, like, fly over to my mom’s house with me and explain to her that I really am enrolled at Claremont?”

Pumped for this thread. Feel free to take your first post as far as you like. Anywhere from just responding to Consuelo, all the way to seeing the stage for their crime patrol.

Sunday, December 3, 2023 The pop-up shop hadn't been Winifred's idea. Conducting business entirely though correspondence hadn't been a foreign concept to her even before spending the better part of a decade acclimating to the 'future' and minimizing face-to-face interactions suited her just fine. Chrysopoeia had grown considerably as a company in the fast few years, however and both the marketing consultantation team she'd hired through AEON and her in-house 'social media' person had agreed that a physical presence was a must during the Yuletide season. Given the bespoke - and sometimes volatile - nature of her products that meant that Winifred herself needed to be on-hand. And so the petite Englishwoman paced about the polished wooden tables in the small Hanover storefront, the combination of warm tones and glassware evoking some idealized remembrance of the laboratories of her youth. She wore a pine green sleeveless turtleneck, leaving the sleeve tattoo on her left arm on display, metallic ink that caught the light to look like spun wire, along with loose black trousers. Her actual lab wear was in the consultation room behind her in an attempt to look more inviting, an affectation her imperious resting expression already made something of a challenge.

Friday, September 10 Albright Institute, Freedom City Getting into the field trip to the Albright Institute took a little luck. You had to put your name in and get drawn in a lottery. Interest in the trip was high. As the premier lab researching super powers, the Institute held a special interest for Claremont's metahumans. So naturally, Bernadette O'Connell, known to the world as the duplicating super hero Multi-Girl, was expecting every seat on the bus to be full when she scrambled aboard. Instead, the back third of the bus was empty and students were crammed up to three to a seat in the rest. It didn't take long to figure out why. Bernadette's dorm mate, Consuelo (known on campus as "Rot") was sitting in the back seat all alone, the rest of the Claremont teenagers happy to have some distance between themselves and her. Nowhere else to sit for Bernadette, though. The green-haired outcast in the back sees Bernadette and grins. "Hey, Bernie! You're coming on this trip too? That's awesome! I saved you a seat." Consuelo looks around conspiratorially, slyly opens her backpack, and then whispers: "Dude, check it out, I've got, like, half a case of Mountain Dew in here!"

Pumped to get this thread rolling!

Claremont Academy Freedom City, New Jersey December 1, 2023, 3:05 PM The final class of the afternoon had just ended for what had been Vicki Adams' first day at Claremont Academy. After her rather eventful tour of the campus, Lawrence had gotten her to her classes for the afternoon and things had started to take on a bit of a normal routine. Of course, she was coming in at the end of the semester, so the school was working with the Atom Academy to provide semester finals that would cover what she had been working on there. As she exited the classroom, Vicki found herself in a crowd of students that included Lawrence Harrow, Mizuki Iwasaki, and Consuelo Nunez. The crowd the four teens were just exiting the building into the main quad when there was a flash of white light. The teens found themselves standing in the main parking lot for the school, or at least, it resembled the main parking lot. What appeared to be a wide racetrack ran through part of the parking lot, leading off into the wooded area around the school. The teens were still wearing the clothes they had worn for the day, but their bookbags were no longer with them. Each was standing next to what appeared to be a combination of a race car and a go-cart, each of a different color. The sound of cheers and applause filled the air, and glancing behind them there was a large stand of bleachers filled with almost cartoonish figures dressed in Claremont colors and bearing various banners and signs for "Team Claremont." Lawrence's eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded the scene, when suddenly a voice rang out. "Hey! Lawrence!" Glancing out onto the racetrack, there was a large figure with a spike shell on its back driving by on a four-wheel ATV, however, the odd figure's head seemed completely out of place, as it was a blond-haired man that looked to perhaps be in his early thirties, but with an impish, childlike grin. "You and your friends should hurry up, or you'll lose the race!" Following alongside the bazar figure was a small, pink racecar/go-cart, which was driven by a girl that looked to be five or six, with long blonde hair and wearing a pink princess dress. She had a similar impish grin to the other figure as she giggled as the two drove past the four teens and called out, "bye Law-werence!" "Quirk?" Lawrence said as he watched the two figures go by, before muttering, "oh, bloody hell." Lawrence looked over to the three girls and gave them an apologetic smile. "I am sorry you three got caught up in this, but we have been pulled into a game by a very powerful extra dimensional entity. I can tell you from experience, the best thing to do is play along, until we can find a way to beat him at the game." With that, the blond teen climbed into the car that was next to him and started up the motor.

(GM Post) Mid January, 2024 What should be an easy assignment turns violent! A fun visit turned into a semi-nautical nightmare! What's a high school assignment compared to the aggression of Supervillains!? Can our Heroes save the day AND complete their assignment!? The Freedom City Aquarium was always open for students doing projects, especially ones from the well-funded Claremont Academy, whose headmistress was a significant donor for the massive, three story building and it's attached research vessel. A big exhibit now was a live Blue Whale, currently swimming in a fenced in area of the harbor while it recovered from injuries sustained in the wild. But there were plenty of other exhibits throughout the three stories of the building. Parker Powers, Consuelo Nunez, and Michael Adon had, in their Sophomore level Biology Course, been given an assignment along with the rest of the class to go around the city and examine a microbiome in the city; the same assignment that sent Mizuki, Lawrence, and Baz to the local Estuary underneath the amusement park. Carmen had gotten the chance to earn some extra credit by going along with them, partially as a chaperone and partially by writing her own essay about some of the more interesting examples of sea life at the aquarium. While it wasn't a microbiome in reality, since obviously it wasn't natural, it did allow the group to present comparisons between creatures of the same species that were adapted to different locations; a major example of this were Otters, as the Aquarium had both Sea Otters and River Otters among it's other exhibits. With special permission from the handler, the group was currently standing on a platform in the sea otter exhibit, taking notes to compare it to the River Otters they had visited before. With it's thicker fur and heavier body, the creature was quite different from the slick, svelte river otter that was it's biological cousin. It wasn't anything specifically straining or dangerous, it was actually pretty relaxing. Right up until the alarms went off, flashing red lights in the exhibit the group is in as a voice echoed over the loud speaker. "All Visitors and non-security personal please exit the Aquarium. Metahuman Activity is occurring." Which wasn't great to begin with, but it got worse when Carmen, her senses naturally more heightened than the three Sophomores, could hear a wail of pain by the largest beast in the area. It was too high to be heard at first, but on it's second scream, even Parker and Consuelo could hear it. Someone was torturing the Blue Whale, and the poor creature was screaming in fear and pain, loud enough that it could be heard inside the building. The otters fled off the platform into deeper water to escape the sound, and the crying whale was interwoven with the sounds of violence occurring on the lower levels of the Aquarium.

OOC for This Thread Featuring: Spaceman La Puma Negra Rot Golden Star So with her Ultrahearing, Carmen heard the Blue Whale first, but it quickly became audible to everyone, so everyone can react to it without needing to wait for now.

Kord Dormitories, Fifth Floor Claremont Academy, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, September 11, 2023 Neko felt that familiar rush of pleasure as she published her latest #CatgirlReacts video. But now #CatgirlNeededaDrinkofWater, so it was time to move on. There was a bit of racket in the hallway, and her instincts pricked up as she reached to open the door. What was this? Pterradonna, Neko’s dorm mate known for her ability to transform into a pterodactyl, was pressed up against one side of the hallway with a look of confusion and perhaps slight fear on her face. Following Pterra’s eyes, Neko saw Consuelo halfway up the wall on the other side of the hallway, dressed up in cat cosplay, and making unconvincing angry cat noises. “Rawr! I’m a cat, Pterra! Rawr! I’m gonna get you!” Rumor had it that Consuelo had gone on some sort of adventure with La Puma Negra last weekend and now thought being a cat was the cool thing to do. If only she weren’t so bad at it. “Um, Suelo,” ventures the nervous, semi-saurian teen, “how are you sticking to the wall?” “What? Oh, uh. . . .” The cat-costumed student drops to the floor and looks up with dismay at the fingertip-shaped holes left in the otherwise immaculate plaster walls of the hallway. “Oops. I must have accidentally done that with my disintegration. Does anybody have some, like, spackle?” Pterradonna takes this moment to slip back in her room. “Uh, gotta go. . . .” “Oh, hey Neko. Look, I’m a cat! Rawr! Rawr!” And Consuelo stomps across the hallway lashing out with imaginary claws. “Wanna cat fight me?”

Sub-basement of Claremont Academy Bayview, Freedom City, New Jersey October 2023, 9:45 AM Lawrence Harrow looked about the large room on one of the sub-basements beneath the grounds of Claremont Academy. The room was rather Spartan, with smooth white and grey walls, a floor that had a hexagon pattern and a high, almost cavernous ceiling. Along one of the walls, a couple dozen feet above the floor, was a dark set of plexiglass windows. "So, this is the Doom Room." The blond teen stated with his refined British accent as he looked back over his shoulder towards his roommate and gave a small grin. "Ready to show off what you can do Baz?" The faculty had arranged time in the school’s training room for several of the new students in order to start gathering baseline information on their powers for the year. As such, Lawerence was wearing the standard blue and yellow Claremont uniform, the morphic molecule costume tightly fitting his lean athletic build. The teen began slowly scanning the apparently empty room before his bright blue eyes fixed on the windows to the control room for a few moments. He then turned back to Baz. "Parker said he was in our testing group right? Wonder who the others will be."

Kord Dormitories, Fifth Floor Claremont Academy, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, September 4, 2023 Like the rest of the dormitories, the fifth floor of Kord was a similar scene of controlled chaos involving students and parents. Three eighteen year old girls emerged from the stairwell into the hall of the fifth floor. The three were all identical in appearance, the same, long red hair and dressed in matching jean shorts and green tank-tops. The only difference between them was what each was carrying, with one having a backpack and suitcase, the next only had a large suitcase (which she seemed to lift with minimal effort) and the last carrying a box. Bernadette O'Connell led two of her duplicates down the hall toward her room for her last year at Claremont, excited to see her friend again. It had been an interesting summer, not the least of which had been her experience at a band competition in Boston. The sooner she got her stuff to her new room, the sooner she could go find her friends and catch up….

Please enjoy this unsanctioned image gallery of characters appearing in the Movin In – Girls thread. Adult Eira 1 Adult Eira 2 La Puma Negra 1 La Puma Negra 2 La Puma Negra 3 Multi-Girl 1 Multi-Girl 2 Multi-Girl 3 Neko 1 Neko 2 Neko 3 Rot 1 Rot 2 Rot 3 Starshine 1 Starshine 2 Starshine 3 Teen Eira 1 Teen Eira 2 Teen Eira 3

Sophomore Yearbook Interviews Begin at 11:55 Pretty clear sign, right? Consuelo Nunez, a.k.a. Rot thought so. And so did all the other new Claremont Academy students waiting the hallway – a few of them intent on making their mark in the official school publication, but most of them just with nothing better to do, and not wanting to admit it. But, as the minutes ticked by, more and more of the students seemed to suddenly in fact figure out that their must be something better to do. It just didn’t seem like a good idea to wait in line with this ragged-looking girl with the crazy long green dreadlocks. So, by 11:57, when the yearbook staff came to unlock the room, Consuelo was the only one left. “Huh, that’s weird. Usually, a lot more people show up to get interviewed. You, uh, don’t mind answering all twenty questions do you . . .?” “It’s, um, ‘Rot’.” By the day, Consuelo was getting more self-conscious and unsure about her decision to go by her superhero name at school. This is a nice surprise. This girl is standing right next to me, but she’s not freaking out. I wonder what the difference is. “Okay, I’m Sara. Do you mind if my robot Ciri sits in? I’m testing some new social observation algorithms in her program.” “Uh, sure.” The pale journalist known as ‘Sara’ taps a few things on her watch, and a sleek, pale-blue humanoid robot is teleported into the classroom. “Great. If you could just sit down here, we can begin.” “Uh, actually, I prefer to stand.” “Suit yourself” Removing her high-tech watch, Sara sets it on the desk, to better position the microphone. “So, what is your most listened to song so far this year?” “Um, I’ve kind of been listening to Vegas a lot, for some reason.” “Okay, which school tradition are you most proud of?” “Uh, I don’t really, like, know the school traditions. I never really thought I would go here. But, I like the part about it being a school for kids with super-powers, I guess. Because that’s how I got in here, and it’s better than where I was before. Um, hey, can I ask you a question?” Sara looks down at her watch on the desk. “If you’re quick.” But then smiles like she was just messing with Rot. “Ha! Okay. So, like, I have this thing with my powers where people get, like angry with me just by standing close to me. But you seem to not be affected . . . any guess why?” “Oh, well that’s obvious. It’s my superior mental abilities. Okay, so, next question. Would students be more productive if cell phones were banned during school hours?” Was that a small eye roll from Sara? “Um, yeah, like I was saying, when people are physically close to me, they get, like automatically really upset with me. So, online is like about the only place I can interact with people kind of normally. I have to use like, voice activation for basically everything, because, when I swipe too much, my phone ends up disintegrating pretty fast. But even so, online communication is like this big refuge for me. So not having access to my phone all day would really suck.” “Oh yeah, that makes sense. So . . . what’s your favorite school lunch?” “Wow, you’ve got some hard-hitting questions there, Sara. This may be controversial, but I’d have to say: anything with tater-tots. They're best when they’re crispy, but . . . I know people think they’re kind of gross when they’re under-cooked and slimy, but I kind of like them that way too.” “You disgust me.” Consuelo blanches. “Oh god, I’m just kidding, sorry. Just joking about the tater-tots. Anyway, next question: should our school keep the vending machines?” “Um, like, I guess, if people like them. I never use them, because I’m afraid I might accidentally disintegrate the touch screen or the dispenser slot or something. I totally did that at an old school. Actually, I had bought some . . . Skittles, I think? But the bag didn’t fall out of those like screw-ring things that turn around to let the candy out, you know? So I was, like, just trying to shake it a little bit, you know, to get the Skittles to drop. But I must have been a little upset or something because the whole front glass disintegrated, and I went crashing into like, all of the items stored inside. And everything just went spilling out all over the floor!” As Consuelo swings her arms wide to pantomime the trajectory of multiple snack items, the back of her hand lightly brushes Sara’s high-tech watch on the desk, just nudging it off the edge. Oh crap! As Consuelo lunged to save the piece of tech from falling, her hand brushed Sara’s, also doing the same. “Ow!!” Sara withdrew her hand, shook it, and looked at it. “You burned me!” Consuelo looked at Sara’s hand in a panic, but it didn’t look damaged at all. The effects of her powers on flesh were typically anything but subtle, yet Sara’s hand appeared unblemished. “Uh, it doesn’t look burned . . .” “I can feel it. Oh my god. You freak! Oh my god! What the hell? I need to see the nurse!” Sara gets up and runs out of the room, looking intently at her perfectly fine hand. Consuelo is left alone in the room in more-or-less stunned silence. Well, not truly alone. “Excuse me,” a pleasant, synthesized voice issues from the up-to-now silent robot against the wall. “Would it be permissible for me to continue the interview, in my creator’s absence? This activity would conform to my social observation programming testing protocol.” “Sure, knock yourself out, Ciri.” “Figure of speech interpreted as affirmative. Compiling interview questions now. Compilation complete. Re-commencing interview. Next interview prompt: Tell me about yourself?” “Uh, okay. I’m, like, a girl that has super-powers that let me disintegrate things. That’s, like, a really broad question, Ciri.” “Noted. Next prompt: What critical feedback do you most often receive?” “These don’t seem like normal yearbook-type questions. . .. I guess people are often critical when I accidentally disintegrate things. But maybe I get negative feedback even more when I don’t disintegrate things, but people react negatively to me just because they get too close, like what just happened with Sara. My mom says I’m irresponsible a lot. But that’s like a joke, coming from her. Um . . . maybe, um maybe let’s not put that last part in there, okay, Ciri?” “Tell me about a time you overcame an obstacle.” “Uh, hmm, let’s see. For a while I was getting in trouble at school at lot, well, I mean getting in trouble specifically for the same reason a lot, because my disintegration powers were getting stronger and I was like, too young to realize how often I had to put on new clothes to not, like run out of having clothes on. So, like I begged my mom to let me buy like as many clothes as I could at the thrift store, and then carry around extra clothes to school. So, I think that counts. Now, my sponsor – and I don’t really know who that is – gets me these super suits that don’t disintegrate, as long as I’m wearing something else over them. Oh yeah, and now I sleep on metal sheets, so that I don’t ruin the floor overnight. Although I guess that was one of my mom’s boyfriends that figured that out. Does that still count?” “How do you handle stress?” ‘Uh, well, for me, a lot of stress comes from being around other people. Because everything is always so complicated. So I will like, seek isolation when I’m really down. But then, I can get lonely too, so I’ll try to hang out with people. But that never seems to go so great. So I guess I blow off stress by saying mean little things to people sometimes. Or by, like, destroying things that aren’t that important. Dang. That sounds pretty bad, I guess.” “What have been your most positive and negative management experiences?” “What? I’m, like too young for this question. Most positive management experiences? I don’t know. I don’t have, like, a lot of good experiences with institutions, you know? I guess probably this school is the best experience, since it’s geared toward people with super-powers. So, I think it’s able to handle, like, more variety in its students. I’ve definitely gotten in trouble at school a lot. And with the law a little bit too, even. Probably pretty lucky I didn’t end up in Juvie. Kind of a miracle, really.” “Why are you leaving your current position?” “My current position? Well, my mom hasn’t held a job down for very long for a while now. And, I know I’m not a cheap kid, with all the stuff I break. It’s not like she’s that great at dealing with life anyway, but I think I give her a lot more stress. Also, there was this deal that this other robot made for me after some . . . trouble happened, that makes it so I have to go to school here. Hey, do you know a robot named RoboLawyer3000? I’d kind of like to see him again.” “I am aware of no such other robot. Next question: How many pennies, if stacked on top of each other, would equal the height of the Empire State Building?” “What? I don’t know. Like, a lot?” “Why do you want to work here?” “Who said I want to work here? Do you mean, like, with the yearbook or something? It’s like, I want to go to this school. I am going to this school. This is like actually better than a dream come true. Like, if I could actually be a super-hero, I could actually finally make sense, you know? Like everything I do, everywhere I go, I just get resented and I just ruin stuff. It’s like, a lot to deal with. For everyone. But like, for me most of all. But if I could be a super-hero, like for real for real, then instead of just being a problem, my powers could actually do something good. And I might actually be appreciated. Because really, I’m pretty awesome. I just have to, you know, always remind myself of that. Because I don’t hear it too much from other people.” “Why might we hire you?” Consuelo looks Ciri a long time like the robot might be insane. In reality, of course, Ciri was neither sane nor insane, but merely an automated device. But to Consuelo, the robot seemed insane. “What are you talking about, Ciri? Hire me for what? Does Sara have a secret lab somewhere where she is doing nefarious deeds? Is she a budding young supervillain in search of a little low-cost, super-human muscle?” Hmm. Would that actually be that bad? No. Stay focused Suelo. Eyes on the prize. “You’re weird, Ciri.” And the as-of-yet-walking-the-straight-and-narrow young super-human crosses her arms in suspicion. “Do you have any regrets so far in your professional career?” “My what? Oh, wait a minute, do you know about the . . . guns thing? Yeah, that didn’t go over exactly as planned. I mean, there were some good things too. I learned that I’m pretty good at, um, scaring people into talking. I know that sounds bad, but like, I think it can be good to, like in the right circumstances. Also, I found out that getting shot by a machinegun doesn’t hurt me. That was insane. But yeah, I don’t think I really thought about the legal ramifications for me or any of my, uh, clients? Are superheroes enemies called clients? That doesn’t sound quite right. . ..” “What’s your greatest achievement?” “Um, huh. Hmm. Well, uh, my costume is pretty cool, right? I mean my super suit, the one that doesn’t disintegrate, it’s lust like a normal black body suit, but, like, when I accessorize it with this cropped leather jacket and these tactical pouches, it looks badass, right? And with the green dreads, it’s like, one slick package. All the other super-heroes are jealous. I know it. They’re just playing like they’re above me. But really, their jealous.” “Um, hey, Ciri, I think maybe you’re like reading from the wrong list of questions. Like maybe from a list of questions you ask someone that is interviewing for like a job in an office or something? Maybe you should, like, check that?” “Feedback acknowledged. Recompiling questions list. Compilation complete. Re-commencing interview. Who do you love more, your parents, your spouse, or your dog?” “Wow. I take that back. That last list wasn’t so bad after all. So first, I’m sixteen, and I’m in America. I don’t have a spouse. I don’t think I could have a spouse, because they would hate me, and I might accidentally disintegrate them.” Consuelo is quiet for a little bit. “So, my dad left when I was six. Like, years before I even got my powers! He was a jerk, and I’m glad he’s gone. My mom drives me crazy more than any other person in the world. She like hides in her pills and booze. It just wears me out. And no dogs. For the same reason as the spouse.” “Next question. My friend’s son wants to drop out of high school and learn car repair. I told her to send him over. What advice do you think I gave him?” “Ciri, I think maybe, like, you’re on pills too? Where did you even get that question? I mean, I guess maybe you told him to like, save his money and try to avoid expensive habits, or something like that.” “Final question: I can’t figure out how to grows my business. Got any ideas?” “What the actual hell, Ciri? Maybe you should try to build a buzz on social media. Actually, you know, that’s not that bad an idea. Maybe I should do that for my hero work? But I have trouble with computers and phones, because of the whole disintegration thing. Hmm. Maybe I can team up with someone that is good at social media but could use my skills of . . . destroying things and scaring people. Yeah. The idea still needs work, I admit.” “Thank you for your responses. That concludes this interview.” And with that, Ciri methodically, unhurriedly picked up Sara’s watch and teleported away. “Um, good. Okay.” You know, I think I like robots. They’re consistent. Rot yawns and looks around. She looks down and sees a subtle depression in the floor where she had been standing for the last twenty minutes. “Oh crap!” Forgot to hover! Time to go. . ..

Rot Power Level: 9 (122/130PP) Unspent Power Points: 8 Trade-Offs: -5 Defense / +5 Toughness; -5 Attack / +5 Effect In Brief: Challenged with a repulsive and difficult-to-control power set, a young superheroine navigates the challenges of being a misfit and a hero at the same time Catchphrase: “Like, uh, um, you know?” Theme: Message to You, Rudy Rot in Super Suit Rot in Homemade Costume Alternate Identity: Consuelo Nunez (Nominally Private, but pretty easy to figure out, as her powers manifested when she was pretty young, with very visible results. Also, how many people have green dreadlocks, really?) Birthplace: Freedom City Residence: Claremont Academy Base of Operations: not an HQ in technical game terms, but Claremont Academy Occupation: High School Student Affiliations: The Study Group Family: Relationship with mother (Maria) is very strained. Hasn’t seen here father (Hector) since she was six. Description: Age: 16, birthday is February 29, 2007 Apparent Age: 16 Gender: Female Ethnicity: Hispanic Height: 5’ 4” (162 cm) Weight: 117 pounds (53 kg) Eyes: Brown Hair: Green dreadlocks Consuelo dresses with a punk esthetic, or is it grunge? Who's to say. She has her hair in green-dyed dreadlocks. She can’t stop her powers from slowly decaying objects she touches, so her clothing is often ragged. History: Consuelo has had some challenges in her childhood. Her family is poor. Her dad was a tortured soul that was sometimes violent toward her mom. He left them when she was six. Her mutant powers started gradually manifesting at age nine. It’s not like they had a lot of things, so when young Consuelo accidentally destroyed things with a touch, it caused a lot of frustration. As her powers grew, people began to be reflexively repulsed from her upon physical contact, and eventually even at a short distance. This was hardest of all. Her life changed for the better when she was accepted into the Claremont Academy. But her same problems have followed her there as well. Personality & Motivation: Her mom suffered a lot of injustice, and her dad was a jerk. Fertile ground for the growth of super-heroism. Being repulsive upon close physical proximity was tough as a kid and is tough for her as a teen. A lot of why she does what she does is her way of dealing with this issue. She leans into the outcast trope. And she tries to think of herself as noble for trying to be a hero despite the shunning her powers can result in. Recently Consuelo succeeded in gaining much more control over the repulsive effect her condition had on others, as well as allow her to "undo" her disintegration. Powers & Tactics: Rot’s powers apparently annihilate matter and energy, but actually redistribute it in miniscule amounts across billions of alternate dimensions. She also siphons matter and energy from countless alternate dimensions to power her flight and durability. Active use of her powers creates a dark, warping, shadowy distortion in the area of effect. She can sculpt the area in which she disrupts matter and energy. Her powers are much more potent if she can actually touch her target, but she's only modestly adept at hand to hand combat. She can adapt how she empowers herself, focusing on speed, or reflecting damage of melee attacks. Recently, she has gained more control over the aura of repulsion that her abilities give off, reining it in except when she is scared, angry, or using her powers at full strength. Power Descriptions: All of Rot's powers have Mutant Origin, Biological Source, and Extradimensional Medium. Consuelo's mutant physiology allows her to instantly, unconsciously shunt atoms and molecules across to billions of alternate dimensions, causing corrosion and disintegration effects. Similarly, her powers instantly and unconsciously draw energy and/or matter in miniscule amounts from billions of alternate dimensions to power her flight and support her impervious toughness. Concentrated use of her decay powers results in a visual warping and darkening of space in the area of effect, and a soft sucking/hissing sound (provided there is atmosphere). Complications: Responsibility: Consuelo’s mother, Maria, is hooked on pills and has trouble keeping a job or an apartment. Consuelo kind of hates her mom for this, but also wants to help. It’s complicated. Reputation: Being repulsive and destroying things all the time is plenty enough reason for Rot to have a bad reputation with most institutions and many people she encounters. Creepy Vibes: When she becomes angry or scared, or when she uses a power in her External Array at full strength, her abilities can trigger a fight or flight or disgust response in nearby people or animals. Cynic: Rot has been treated unfairly by authority figures for most of her life. Instead of receiving a benefit from Leadership (like clearing a condition), she may instead take a hero point, at GM's discretion. Abilities: -2 + 4 + 4 + 0 + 4 + 4 = 14 PP Strength: 8 (-1) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 14 (+2)/36(+13) Intelligence: 10 (+0) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: +2 + 2 = 4 PP Initiative: +10 Attack: +3 (Poof!) +1 Base Defense: +3, +1 Base, +1 Flat-Footed Grapple: 0 Knockback: -10 Saving Throws: +0 +0 +4 + 6 = 10 PP Toughness: +13 (+13 Con) (+8 Impervious) Fortitude: +13 (+13 Con) Reflex: +6 (Zip!) (+2 Dex, +4) Will: +8 (+2 Wis, +6) Feats: 8 PP Attack Specialization 1 (Poof!) Dodge Focus 2 Skill Mastery 1 Distract (Intimidate) Startle Luck 2 Skills: 56 R = 14 PP Intimidate 13 (+15) (M) Notice 13 (+15) (M) Sense Motive 13 (+15) (M) Concentration 13 (+15) (M) Language 1 - English, Spanish Knowledge: Streetwise 3 (+3) Powers: 2 + 22 + 8 + 2 + 1 + 10 + 29 = 74 PP Flight 1 (stacked) [2 PP] Stacked Power: Flight 5 Enhanced Constitution 22 [22 PP] Impervious Toughness 8 [8 PP] Enhanced Improved Initiative 2 Immunity 1 Own Drain and Damage Effects Utility Array 4.5 (1 Alt) [10 PP] •Base Power: Flight 4 (stacked); Enhanced Evasion (Zip!) {9/9 PP} Stacked Power: Flight 5 •1st Alt Power: Add Reflection 8 (melee only) to Impervious Toughness(Feats: Affects Insubstantial 1; Descriptors: Disintegration) (Zap!) {9/9 PP} Attack Array 14 (1 Alt) [29 PP] • Base Power: Damage 8 (Extras: Area - Shapeable, Flaws: Distracting); Drain 8 (Toughness)(Extras: Area - Shapeable, Affects Objects, Linked; Flaws: Action - Full; Feats: Progression 2 - Area, Reversible, Affects Insubstantial 1) (Scour) {28/28 PP} • 1st Alt Power: Damage 13; Drain 13 (Toughness)(Extras: Affects Objects, Linked; Flaws: Distracting); Feats: Reversible, Incurable (Poof!) {28/28} Drawbacks: (-2 PP) (-2) Why we can’t have nice things: Objects that Consuelo contacts for an extended time (clothing, chairs, mattresses, spacesuits, etc.) slowly decay away. Cumulative damage to the object is resolved as being hit by a Corrosion attack of Rank equal to the number of hours of contact, divided by 3, up to her PL. Her super suit is immune to this drawback. Totals: Abilities (14) + Combat (4) + Saving Throws (10) + Feats (8) + Skills (14) + Powers (74) - Drawbacks (2) = 122/130 Power Points

Consuelo Nunez woke up in the floor. Damn it! Damn it! Mom will be so PO’ed! She’d overslept and paid the price. Already having a bad day, the sixteen-year-old pushed herself up and surveyed the damage. About half and inch deep into the floorboards. With her finger, she felt the sharp edge of metal where she had fell through the old drip pan. It didn’t cut her. Can I even be cut anymore? Standing up, her hair got tangled in the pull-string hanging down from the bare bulb in the ceiling of the walk-in closet she called a bedroom. Cursing softly, she carefully pulled it and squinted in the sudden bright. Not too bad. She looked at the body-shaped impression in the floor. A sheet of plywood could cover it up. But . . . . I’ll need a new pan. Shuffling into some gross old muumuu she’d scrounged at the thrift store, she tumbled out of the closet into the main room of the apartment. To her surprise, her mother, Maria, was sitting on the couch, with a bottle in her hand, and watching TV with the volume turned off. “Mom, what the hell? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” “F—k that job.” And she turned the volume on for the shopping channel, suddenly blaring, and then slowly turned down to just grating. Grabbing her ears, Consuelo could only say: “Jesus!” Then, remembering how she woke up: “I need another pan, mom.” “What!??! Are you kidding?! For crying out loud, Suelo, those things aren’t cheap! Why do you do this to me?” A toilet flushed, and Darrel came out of the bathroom. Consuelo could barely bring herself to hate Darrel. Sure, he was a douche. But, by the time Consuelo could realistically figure out exactly what kind of a douche he was, he’d be gone anyway. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be at school or something?” “That’s right, Darrel. We’re all failures here.” Consuelo grumpily snapped back at him. Her mom’s loser boyfriend whispered under his breath. “Fuh-reak.” I mean in his defense, he’s completely correct. Consuelo caught her reflection the glass door. Not only was she dressed like a bag lady, but she also had bright green dreadlocks all the way down her back. That, plus everything I touch disintegrates. Darrel plopped down on the couch, and Consuelo edged closer to him, scowling. As she got closer, he became uncomfortable and scowled back. Just like everyone does. A step closer, and her mother made an angry face at her too. “Don’t do anything stupid, Suelo.” “Stupid? I don’t know the meaning of the word.” Consuelo rejoined, with quite a bit of sass. She picked up Darrel’s cap. The annoying one that said ‘Bud Light’ on the front. Space warped and darkened around the offending ball cap, and it crumbled into a few shreds of fabric. “Whoops.” Consuelo brushed the fragments off her hand. “Didn’t see that there.” Consuelo was sure Darrel wanted to say something, but even he was smart enough not to push her. “I need to go to school. You two drink too much.” And Consuelo went for the door. No books, no backpack. Those things never last. “You try me, child,” was the closest her mom got to saying goodbye. Consuelo was so tired of being cold. I need to like, move somewhere where it’s summer all the time. She looked down at the over-sized dress she was wearing, already showing signs of wear. Should I even go to school today? Her stomach growled. Her eyes drifted to the dingy E-Z Mart marquee across the road. Miraculously, there were a few quarters in the pocket of the dress. Maybe I could afford one of those little pecan pie things. The little bell jingled as she stepped through the door into the bodega, and the slightly rancid waxy smell of the place filled her nostrils. Somebody at the counter sounded angry. Right away, something felt wrong. Consuelo stopped in her tracks and looked up at the counter. No way. There was a big dude and a little dude, and they had panty hose over their heads, and they were pointing guns at the clerk, like real guns out in the open. Why are both of them pointing guns? Somehow floated through Consuelo’s mind for some reason. Cash was coming out of the register and being handed across the counter to the taller guy, who was still shouting. I hate guns. As she balled up her fists and glowered at the two robbers, she could almost feel the metal of those stupid weapons. Men feeling powerful because they could pull a trigger and kill someone. I hate them! I wish they didn’t exist! And then . . . they didn’t. The air around the guns the pair were holding wavered and darkened. “What the hell?” Screamed the taller of the two, in a surprisingly high pitch. ”Ouch!” Both men shook their hands as the guns completely disintegrated. They looked at their hands stupidly, for a surprisingly long time. That’s what I’m talking about, yo! For the first time in a long time, a smile broke out across Consuelo’s face. “Hey guys, over here.” And she gave them a little wave. The shorter one pointed at her and yelled: “it’s that mutant freak!” Why does he seem familiar? “Stupid little girl!” He rushes up to her, tall and threatening, and slaps her across the face. Consuelo doesn’t move. He punches her full force, right on the nose. Consuelo doesn’t move. Her nose is fine. “Nope.” Consuelo reaches out and puts her hand on the large man’s chest. “Gah!” The large man clutches at his chest as the front of his shirt melts away, and ugly bruises and burns well up across his torso. “Oh, God.” He rocks on the floor in the fetal position, moaning. “Mmmm.” Then his body relaxes, and he loses consciousness. Consuelo isn’t standing anymore. She is floating a couple feet off the ground, watching the man be still. “Oh crap!” the little guy breaks out of his stupor and makes a break for the back door. “You too, shorty.” Consuelo flies up behind him, grabs him by the pantyhose mask, and flies back to stop his escape. It works pretty well at first, but then the pantyhose suddenly disintegrates, sending both Consuelo and the crook flopping down on the floor. Whoops. Didn’t mean for that to happen! Scrambling up, the two look at each other. "What the hell? David? What's wrong with you? You could have killed Sami!" And Consuelo gestures to the EZ Mart clerk with his mouth open wide, yet to move since the fight ensued. "Just stay away from me, Suelo." David had been Consuelo’s friend, once. Before her powers changed her and she stopped having friends. The fear in his eyes would have been enough to break Consuelo’s heart, if it hadn't already been broken a long time ago. As Consuelo looked into David's eyes, it was clear to her that there was nothing she could do to change the terror and revulsion he felt towards her. There's only one way I see any good coming of this. Sorry David. Hovering up above her former friend now, Consuelo stopped holding her powers back. The air around her began to warp and darken. "I don't want you playing with guns anymore, David." She hovered in closer, and David looked like he was trying to shrink into the floor. "Not ever. If I catch you with a gun again, what I did to your friend back there will seem like the good old days." As David cowered in fear, she noticed a tattered piece of her dress fall onto his belly. Oh, crap, my clothes! Better hurry this up. "Where did you get the guns, David?" "Mom? My clothes are destroyed already. And I need some money, to buy another metal sheet to sleep on." "Jesus Suelo! Can't you even try to not destroy your clothes?" "I know, I'm sorry. I got distracted. But I also need to buy a new pan." Consuelo had learned long ago that it was better to just not tell her mom about it when she wore through a pan into the floor. Deep down, Maria just really didn't want to deal with it. Seeing her mom’s purse on the floor, Consuelo walked over to it. "Do you have, like, twenty bucks?" "Stay away from my purse!" Angry, but justified. Disintegrate a person's purse once, and they'll never forget. "One of these days, you're going to have to learn to take responsibility for yourself, Suelo." OMG. I can't even. As Consuelo watches her mom grudgingly move towards her purse, she hears a knock on the glass door. It's Darrel, and his arms are full. "Open up!" through the glass. Consuelo looks at him through the door. He's got a car of light beer in one hand, and some plastic car in the other. "Fine. . . " Consuelo unlocks and flicks the door open quickly. Always touch everything quickly, to cause less damage. "I'm only giving you fifteen, Suelo." "Whatever. I'm used to dressing like a homeless person. Do you have a baggie?" "Mmm-hmm. Somewhere." Maria started opening drawers in the kitchen area. "Why are you giving that kid any money? She's old enough to work." "Yeah, so are you, Darrel." "I work!" Darrel says, somewhat dramatically, as he sets the plastic case down. "Suelo can't work, because of her condition. Finally!" She adds as she finds a box with a few bags still in it behind the Cap'n Crunch. She stuffs a ten and a five in the bag, zips it up, and drops it on the foot rest. "Maria, I've got something important to show you," Darrel says as he hip checks the fridge closed and walks back toward the table. As her mom unexcitedly walks over to see what Darrel is talking about, Consuelo quickly picks up the tiny bag of money with two fingers and drops it on the pocket of what's left of her muumuu. Thank God this actually has pockets. Fifteen bucks - this is gonna be tight. "So, I want you to keep this at the house," Darrel is mansplaining something to Consuelo’s mother. "So this is how you load it." What the hell? Darrel is giving my mom a gun? "How did you get that, Darrel? Don't you, like, have a record?" "What you're saying, right now, is against the constitution." And Darrel looked at her with fierce determination. "OMG, I totally do not have time for this right now!" And she didn't. Consuelo had plans. That's what brought her to the thrift store. When you're poor and you disintegrate things you touch, you go to the thrift store a lot. Consuelo probably would be friends with all the clerks, except that, whenever she came up to the counter, the attendant's deep instincts responded to the proximity of Consuelo’s deadly powers. They couldn't help but hate her. Nobody could. But today, not even that would get her down. Today, she was a girl on a mission. A sadly underfunded mission, yet a mission none-the-less. Plus, with the thrift-storing skills Consuelo had, you barely even needed money. She looked at herself one last time in the mirror. Daaaang! I look badass! Black jeans, black sports bra, crop top leather jacket, and the store had even had a little black mask in the Halloween section. The tactical belt she had from the military surplus didn't actually do anything useful for her. But it just makes me look like a superhero. It hadn't been too hard to get David to tell where he had gotten the guns. After all, if somebody that can fly and disintegrate you with a touch really loses their temper, you're probably going to say anything you need to for them to calm down. This was the place, apparently. Another crappy apartment. Basically, just like her mom's. She tried knocking on the door. No answer. She tried again. "Terrance?" Nothing. Was he even home? Am I totally messing this up? Then she heard a phone go off inside. Let's just go! Consuelo put both hands on the metal door, and it rapidly began to decay. Fractures spread out from her two palms, and the material of the door began to crumble and fall like sand. A hole had spread out to include part of the doorframe. So she flew through. A maybe thirty-year-old man, presumably Terrance, was sitting on the couch in the front room. The phone, still ringing, was on the coffee table, along with three neatly placed rows of handguns. Terrance had a gun in his hand too, and he pointed out towards the door as he stood up. "Holy $+#%!" He fired at her, but missed badly. For a sixteen-year-old girl, Consuelo wasn't unusually strong. But she could fly faster than a car could drive, and being immune to her own powers meant nothing really hurt her anyone. So when she slammed into Terrance, he certainly felt it, and went flying over the couch. Too scared to do anything but run, the small time gun trafficker dashed through the kitchen and into the bathroom, and locked the door behind him. The cursing began in earnest as he struggled to get the window open. But Terrance's bathroom door was a lot less durable than his front door, and Consuelo disintegrated that so fast that you could barely see it happening. She caught his legs just as he was squeezing his shoulders through the narrow opening. The material of his black jeans flashed away where she touched him, bruises quickly spread throughout his thighs, and his legs became useless. He flopped back down into the bathroom, hitting his head on the toilet and biting his tongue. Then he remembered his gun. But so had this monster girl, and somehow she had grabbed it first. "Looking for this?" She pointed it at him, and then she made this mocking smile and his gun was hissing and crumbling into nothing, right there in her hand. She pushed him down and his leather jacket got two big holes in it. Hmm. Maybe my costume isn't as cool as I thought, Consuelo couldn't help from thinking. But fashion was the last thing on Terrance's mind. "Who are you? What do you want?" His questions came out like a cry. Consuelo looked down on this hapless merchant of death in the decaying remnants of his clothing. "I'm Rot. I want to know where you get your guns." Terrence's answers were more complicated than Consuelo was ready for. There were lots of places where he could easily get guns. After spending several minutes trying to understand what an FFL was, she had gotten him to finger the worst one he could think of - easiest to buy illegally, highest volume. Warren really liked bourbon. He liked Lynyrd Synyrd. He liked guns, and he liked his safe room. Experiencing all four at once, he was really in his element. It's impossible to truly know the number of times Warren had listened to Free Bird. But this time, through the softening haze of five fingers of Wild Turkey, something sounds different in Allen Collins' guitar solo. At first, old Warren can't quite place it, but then it suddenly comes into focus. "Holy crap! My entry alarm!" The grizzled business owner lunges over to his security camera monitors to see what is going on. Some freak never-worked-a-day in their life antifa terrorist was in Warren's showroom engaging in property damage. Warren squinted at the screen and leaned in closer. What the hell were they doing? They just looked like they were . . . touching all the guns. But all his inventory was getting completely destroyed. Some kinda acid? "The hell they ain't!" All of Warren's heroes, all the real men of the 1980s big screen, with virtually no exceptions, favored the M16 as the buttkicking machine of choice. As Warren held the thing in his hands, everything felt right. "Yeah. Come get some!" Consuelo’s plan was not subtle. Disintegrate her way into the Firearm Emporium and just start destroying weapons. What would the ultimate longterm effect be? Had she even considered that? She wasn't sure. But there were about to be several fewer guns that could make it into the street after tonight. That she knew. What she didn't know was what the heck to do when a red-eyed, foam-spitting defender of second amendment rights burst through the back door like a geriatric Rambo, machine-gun a-blazin'. "Die, snowflake ecoterrorist, die!" Oh crap! I'm going to die! Consuelo curls up into a fetal position and rapidly begins to reconsider her recent life choices. Will anyone even miss me? Man, this is so messed up! What the hell am I doing? Thirty rounds spend pretty fast at full auto. So that's why Warren brought the second clip. And he emptied that too, right into the back of that cowering punk that messed up his store. Consuelo had never before in her life heard so many shots fired at once. But then it was all over. She didn't feel dead. She didn't even feel hurt. Warren didn't know who this freak was. But he did know they had several dozen holes in them. It felt good. Warren pumped his fist. "Yes!" And kissed his gun. It was nice and warm. But Consuelo wasn't dead. In fact, aside from all the bullet holes in her leather jacket, she was fine. She got up on her knees. "Impossible," said the old gun dealer. She stood up. "No!" She lifted into the air. "You can't!" Consuelo shrugged as she looked down at Warren. "Apparently, I can." And then they heard the screeching of tires and the blaring of sirens. Red and blue light flooded the room, and the reality of what she had just done sank in for Consuelo. Oh crap! I really didn't think this through. I didn't gather evidence or anything on this guy. I just busted in and started destroying stuff. She looked around the room at all of the smoking craters left by the user of her powers. Oh man. Police were streaming into the building. “Drop your weapons! On the ground! Hands on your head!” Oh man, am I going to fight the police? Consuelo lowered herself down to her knees and put her hands on her head. “I surrender.” The arrest and the booking had not gone well. Already predisposed against her, every cop that handled her became outright hostile as soon as they got near or touched Consuelo. It’s a miracle none of them shot me. Not that it would have mattered, I guess. In her nervousness, she had accidentally disintegrated a pair of handcuffs and her seat belt in the back of the squad car, not to mention making a total mess of the seat. None of that had made her any friends. Eventually, they had transferred her downtown, to some kind of cell for supervillains. She had been told her powers would be neutralized by some kind of high-tech nullification field there. Maybe it was working, because the pair of handcuffs she was wearing seemed to be in excellent condition still, and she didn’t seem to be able to fly. Oh crap, this is not how I pictured this going down! Am I going to be, like, locked up for life now? Am I going to be disappeared to some black site to have my blood taken to make like and army of super soldiers now or something? Should I have ran from the cops? I’m like, the worst superhero ever, yo! Consuelo heard a loud buzzing noise and a voice came in over the intercom. “You have a visitor.” In stepped a man in a suit. No, not a man. “Dude, are you a robot?” “Greetings Miss Nunez. I am RoboLawyer3000. My client believes in you and has been successful in arranging your release. Miss Nunez, you are free to go.” And the well-dressed humanoid robot gestured with a sweep of its arm towards the open door of the cell. “Um, okay. . . .” Consuelo walked tentatively out of the cell with RoboLawyer3000 just behind her. As soon as she excited, a burly plainclothes detective with an apparently permanent scowl on his face addressed her: “Hands.” When Consuelo just looked confused, he clarified. “Put out your hands, so I can remove your cuffs.” Consuelo complied. As the man released her, she caught his eye. She couldn’t help believing that the angry looking man was pretty sure he’d be putting them right back on her, soon enough. “We have a car waiting out front. Miss Nunez, if you’d be so kind. . . “ And the robotic counsel lead her out the front door and down the steps to a black luxury sedan, still running. He opened the passenger door for her, and she saw a lead apron, like from a radiology clinic, had been placed on the seat. “Ooh, that’s a good idea!” RoboLawyer3000 said nothing, and closed the door after her, then took the driver’s seat. “As I said before, Miss Nunez, my client has faith in you. That is why, it has been arranged for you to attend Clairmont Academy for the super-powered. There you will be trained to use your powers in a safe, understanding environment. It is a boarding school, and it will be required that you reside there, starting this afternoon.” “What? But, um, well, uh . . . “ “Do not worry. I will take you to your mother’s apartment to say goodbye, right after we pick up a few items.” And the sedan pulled up to a loading bay in an apparently abandoned warehouse. “Here we are.” Continued the robot in its almost-but-not-quite-convincingly humanlike voice. More-or-less in a daze, Consuelo got out of the car. RoboLawyer3000 undid a padlock and opened the bay door. “Inside you will find a special bodysuit and mask designed to redirect the effects of your powers to adjacent materials. As long as you have some amount of other clothing over this outfit, the damage resulting from your powers should affect that other clothing first, and a reduced rate, leaving this specialized outfit intact, indefinitely.” “Seriously? OMG, you have no idea how tired I am of all my clothes disintegrating off me! RoboLawyer, this is awesome!” “RoboLawyer3000,” the machine corrected her. “Also, you will find a duffle bag full of clothing selected for you based on camera footage of your shopping habits at New Hope Thrift.” “Wait, you’ve been spying on me?” The robotic lawyer does not answer. “Whatever. Wait for me to get changed.” As Consuelo enters the bay, the robot shuts the door behind her. She finds her black bodysuit folded on a table, along with the mentioned duffle, and a body length mirror standing beside. I am so pumped for this makeover! Removing her current outfit is more of a peeling than a true undressing, here powers having left so little of the clothing intact. It’s like the best Christmas ever as she holds up the super suit and then puts the thing on, mask and all. Hmm. I think the outfit I came up with myself looked a lot more badass. But, if this really doesn’t disintegrate, I’m pretty sure it’s my favorite outfit ever! Looking through the duffle bag, she selected an oversized brown sweater-dress and put it on. You’re smart enough to spy on my and get me out of jail when I go crazy, but you’re not smart enough to figure out I only picked this kind of clothing because it takes the longest to break down? OK. . . . Her visit to her mom’s seems almost useless. Both Maria and Darrel are so drunk they can barely figure out what is going on, and don’t show a lot of interest in it, either. Damn it. Like, would it kill her to be proud of me, like, just once? The mysterious robot says it can’t answer any of Consuelo’s questions about who its employer is. The drive to Claremont Academy takes about forty-five minutes. About five minutes of that are taken up by RoboLawyer3000 explaining the basics of her new arrangement: room and board paid, she was staying in Room 513 in Kord Dormitory, allowance of $200 dollars per month, attendance at Claremont compulsory. As they pull up to Claremont, it’s quite a scene. Parents are dropping off kids. Everyone is hauling in a bunch of luggage. RoboLawyer3000 opens the trunk and pulls out two large drip pans. “Here is a starting supply to protect your sleeping quarters from the overnight effects of your powers.” And then the robot moves to re-enter the car. “Wait, will I see you again?” Asks Consuelo? “I do not know. My employer has instructed me to wish you good luck. Good luck.” And that’s it. Consuelo turned to face the school. It’s kind of a cool building. Steel pans tucked under one armpit and duffle bag dangling from a thick steel chain in the other hand, she floated up the stairs, trying to keep a bit of space between her and everyone else floundering in. She floated up to within relatively easy speaking distance of a group of girls talking to each other. “Uh, um, excuse me, uh, which building is Kord Dormitories?” The knot of girls parted to reveal a beautiful, golden, glowing angelic figure in the middle. The girl next to the glowing girl, who appeared to have hair made out of ice, leaned in to her. “OMG, Angelica, like what kind of failed counter-cultural statement is this supposed to be? Are you, like, the hero of the oppressed and under-represented or something? Like, what even is your hero name?” “Um, Rot . . . “ “Ha! No, like seriously, like, wait, you are serious? Oh my god!” “Cool it.” Says the glowing one to ice-hair. And she’s immediately silent. The glowing student, apparently ‘Angelica‘ flies up to Consuelo. For a minute, it looks like she might give her a chance. But then she gets close, and the revulsion kicks in. “You don’t fit in here. Stay in the corners and out of sight. Got it?” Her tone leaves no room for disagreement. “Uh, that was kind of the plan anyway. . . About Kord. . . .” But the circle has turned their back on her and is completely ignoring her. “Great.” “Hey.” A tap on her shoulder. Uh oh. Was someone going to attack her? Every once in a long while people reacted to her presence with outright violence. She turned to see someone under a big black umbrella and completely surrounded by a black veil hanging down from its edge. “Kord is that way.” A finger pointed, poking the veil out but staying within the veil. “She’s an idiot.” “Thanks.” But her guide seemed to have disappeared. “Uh, okay.” Grabbing up her few meager possessions, the hero calling herself Rot flew up the stairs and into her new life.

Who are you? Sum yourself up in one sentence. Claremont Academy misfit Do you have any nicknames, street names, titles, or nom de plume? Superhero name is "Rot" on account of my ability to decay matter. What is your full birth name? Consuelo Nunez Where do you live? I've lived with my mom in one crummy place after another. Maybe they'll let me just stay at Claremont, now that I'm in? How old are you? What year were you born (if applicable)? I'm 16. I was born on February 29, which is just one more excuse to forget my birthday. Physical Traits Ordinary 16 year old Hispanic girl. Living things are instinctively repulsed by my powers, so that's great. I've got long green dreadlocks and wear all black because, well, everyone thinks I'm a creep already anyway, you know? What is your gender? If not applicable, please explain. Female How would you describe your heritage? Both sets of grandparents were from Mexico, my mom says. But I've never met any of them. How tall are you? 5' 4" What is your body type? meso/ecto Do you have any particular weaknesses, such as allergies or physical disabilities? I mean, I can't stop everything I touch from gradually withering away, and there's the whole repellant to everything that lives bit, but otherwise, no, not really. How do you carry yourself? Are you graceful, or heavy on your feet? Can you be stealthy, do you walk with confidence? I keep at a distance - for your safety, not mine. I've had to get really good at talking nicely, since my powers tend to make everyone hate me. I'm quite confident. I guess, maybe I could be stealthy, but why? As far as I can tell, I'm completely invincible. Describe your skin, eye, and hair color. Skin color is "olive", eyes are brown, hair would be black, but it turns out if you bleach your dreadlocks and apply green dye, that is the color they become. How do you wear your hair, if applicable? Do you have facial hair? Long dreadlocks. No facial hair at present. I'll tell you how that's going once I hit 50. Do you consider yourself attractive? Do others? I know I'm a knockout. Guys would be falling all over me if they just saw my picture, or saw me across the room. People can smell the death on me though. It's instinctive. Once anyone gets too close, I become a monster to them. Do you have any scars, tattoos, piercings, or birthmarks? No, and I'm not sure my invulnerability would even let me get a tattoo (or a scar, I guess) if I tried. Do you resemble anyone famous? Not yet . . . Do you have a dominant hand? I'm left handed because, why not be freaky in one more way, you know? What kind of clothing do you wear? Ha! I wish. When my powers first started up, my clothes would wear out in a couple of weeks. My mom was so mad about that! Now that I'm older, the only clothes that last out the day are my super suit. And that only lasts if it can divert the destruction to another sacrificial piece of clothing. But, you know, mostly I wear black. Black sheep. Bad seed. Why fight it? Do you wear makeup? Sometimes. I kind of like heavy eye liner. But makeup decays to nothing in an hour or so, once it touches my skin. What is your vocal range? Is your voice distinctive in some way? Um, I guess I'm like, a soprano? Do you have any distinctive habits, nervous tics, or mannerisms? Where did they come from, and what causes them? Do other people notice and remark on these habits? Do they annoy you or other people? I keep physical distance from people. I try to keep everyone calm, if I can, because people are always freaking out on me, of course. Once my superpowers really ramped up and I could fly, I kind of tend to hover a foot or two off the ground, just to get a little more distance. History I mean it's a big sad story. Cry, cry. My folks were poor. My dad hit my mom. My mom got into pills. My dad left my mom. My powers started destroying everything and freaking everybody out. My mom can't stand me. I can't stand her. I got this big break to get into Claremont Academy. Now I'm this dark mysterious kid super hero burdened with the danger of my own powers and always deeply misunderstood. Blah, blah, blah. Where do you come from? Born and raised in the Lincoln neighborhood of Freedom City, baby. Have you made any major moves, or do you live in your hometown? I mean, my mom is always getting kicked out of whatever place she is staying in by whatever lowlife loser she is dating. And . . . well maybe it's related to my powers too. I can be pretty hard on a small apartment. . . . Do you feel loyal to your country of citizenship? Do you consider yourself patriotic? How do you feel about the government of your country? I mean I guess, sort of? I mean, it's not like my family has been treated super well, but a lot of places are a lot worse, I guess. How do you feel about the place you come from? I take pride in my neighborhood, but it's kind of rough how many people there don't like me anymore. Where is your home town? What was/is it like? Lincoln neighborhood of Freedom City. We don't have a lot of fancy things there, but we're like, real people, you know? Growing up, were most of the people you knew similar to you, or were you somehow a minority? How did that affect you? Well, most people I grew up with were poor too. I was a pretty normal kid, until my powers started coming out, around nine years old. Is there something you've always been really good at or really bad at? How has that affected your life? I've had to get really good at trying to keep the peace. I try to be good at controlling my powers, but stuff always seems to go sideways. Were there any traumatic experiences in your early years (death of a family member, abandonment, orphaned at an early age)? Yeah, sure. My dad hit my mom a lot. Then he left. My mom pops pills now. It's sad. But she's had to put up with a lot too. Briefly describe a defining moment in your childhood and how it influenced your life. When my dad left, I blamed my mom. Then I blamed myself. I wanted to control things, make them safe. But I couldn't. Wow. Here, I am still trying to do the same, but it's even harder now, with these powers. But, you know, there is a lot I can do that other people can't. Sure, it is a pain, but these powers are a gift you know? And what kind of a person am I, if I don't put them to good use? What stupid things did you do when you were younger? I mean, I'm sixteen, right? I'm supposed to do stupid things now. Except, I kind of can't, because, if I do something stupid, it could be really, really bad. When I was a little girl, I know I blamed myself for a lot of things my parents did. Cause, it's like you can't control your parents, so if feels safer to blame yourself, you know? Now I think I see the world a little more clearly, though. Where did you go to school? How much school did you have, and did you enjoy it? I went to school at, well, a lot of different places, with all the moving around. And also, there were some years I played hooky a lot. I mean, how is a ten year old kid supposed to deal with it when their chair rots away as they are sitting on it? But at Claremont I fit in. Well, kind of. I mean, I'm still an outcast, but it's a lot less extreme. Do you have any mementos of your childhood? What are they, and why did you keep them? If you have none, why not? Ouch. Mementos sure would be nice. But I can't. They all just fall to pieces. When did you decide to become a hero? Why? Did anyone influence you one way or another in the decision? Honestly, I was pretty set on it by the time I was twelve. I mean, with my power set, being a bitter super villain would be a natural, right? But I'm not going to take the easy way out. That was my dad's way. Not mine. Is the reason you give people for becoming a hero different than your real reason? If so, why? I have to concentrate - all the time - just to not accidentally destroy stuff, okay? I've just got to believe my powers can be put to good use. There are some real jerks out there, with a really inflated sense of entitlement. I can stop them. Believe it. Do you have any deep, dark secrets in the past that may come back to haunt you? Wow, I hope not! I mean, I don't think I've killed anybody, which is kind of a miracle, when you think about my powers. But who knows, maybe I did when I was a kid and my mom hid it from me. Sheesh. Where do you get off asking these terrible questions? Do you represent yourself as being different from who you really are? Why? Um, that's like a really convoluted question for me. People can sense the danger of my power, and they think I'm a monster for it. But I'm not really a monster. But like, maybe I am monster, objectively speaking. So like, it's kind of complicated. If you do have these secrets, what do you fear would happen if the truth became known? How far would you go to protect those secrets? Wow, someone is seriously nosy! I mean, I guess, if I learned that I had killed someone or that like I'm an avatar for the destruction of the world, or like some other big drag, it would be really bad. Do you have any sort of criminal record? If so, is it public knowledge? I mean, I guess I could have gotten hit with destruction of public property or something, a lot of times. But, like that never materialized. But I don't steal. I don't do drugs. Family My pill popping mom and I are at each other's throats a lot. Haven't seen my dad since I was six. Don't want to. What are your biological parents' names? Mother is Maria and dad was Hector. Were you raised by them? If not, please explain and describe who raised you. Dad left when I was six. That's three years before my powers started. Ouch. Mom raised me. What was their standing in the community? What did/do they do for a living? Dad was in construction, I think? Mom has been a waitress or a maid. Where are your parents now? Mom is in a crummy apartment in Lincoln neighborhood. Dad? Who knows? Did your family stay in one area or move around a lot? Moved around way too much, but always in or near Freedom City. How did you get along with their parents? How do you get along with them now (if applicable). I'm mean, when I was little, my parents were like petty gods to me. Now my dad is less than dirt to me. Mom and I love each other, but there's a lot of anger. How do your parents view you now, or how would they? I think my mom is relieved I'm in Claremont now. Maybe my life will make more sense now. Does my dad keep tabs on me? I doubt it. Do you have any siblings? If so how many and what are their names? Describe your relationship with them. No brothers or sisters. What was your birth order in the family? Me. Where are your siblings now (if applicable)? Do they have families of their own? What do they do? Nope. Do you stay in touch with them or have you become estranged? N/A Do you love or hate one member of the family in particular? I hate my dad most of all, but my mom drives me crazy. Is any member of the family special to you in any way (perhaps, as a confidant, mentor, or arch-rival)? My mom always stuck around. That can't have been easy, with a kid that is basically cursed. Are there any black (or white) sheep in the family (including you)? If so, please explain. Well, let's just say there aren't any white sheep . . . Do you have a notorious or celebrated ancestor? If so, please explain, including how it has affected your life. Who knows? Do you have a partner and children currently? If so, please describe them. Ew. I'm sixteen, okay. Slow down! I mean there are some cute boys in Claremont, but like, how is that going to work, when any living thing that gets near me is repulsed? . . . . Hmm. Maybe I could, like, date a vampire or something. . . If you do not have a partner or children, do you want them someday? How firm are you in your opinion on this, and what might change your mind? I mean, it would be a dream to have a child, someday. Years from now. Treat them the way they should be treated. But would my powers even allow it? Seems impossible. What type of person would be your ideal mate? Invulnerable to my powers. Not a jerk. I mean, I would like to be attracted to them. But if I could get 1 and 2, that would be more than I would ever expect. Relationships Tumultuous relationship with my mother. Just starting to get to know people at school. Already I think there's a popular girl that hates me. Like, hates me more than everyone else even. Do you have any close friends? If so, please describe them, and how you came to be close to them. Friendships don't really last for me. People sense the danger in me, and can't stay close. Do you have a best friend? If so, how did they become your best friend? How close are you to your best friend? I mean, I have an imaginary best friend, called Nancy, after a teddy bear I used to have. It's kind of sad, but it like helps me get through, you know? If you were to go missing, who would worry about you? I mean, if I were to go missing, people might worry from like a weapon of mass destruction tracking standpoint. I like to think my mom would come looking for me, and not just double up on her pill and hide. I like to think the official at Claremont would care and try to find me. Have you lost any loves? If so, how did it happen, and what did you do? My dad left. Does that count? I don't know. I miss my best friend Sara, from when I was little. But she literally thinks I'm of-the-devil now. So no going back there. Do you have any bitter enemies? If so, please describe them and their history with you. After my dad left, there was a long string of jerks - well, I guess, other jerks - that my mom hooked up with. There is a little part of me that wants to go back and get revenge on them. But really, they're like beneath me now. It wouldn't even be like squashing a bug. It would be like, you know those little tiny white flies you can accidentally inhale? It would be like that with them. If you have enemies, how do you think they might attempt to work against you in the future? Well, I'm like sixteen still. I'm sure I've still got plenty of time left to make a lot of enemies in my superhero career. Probably, they would like, try to mind-control me and turn me into their tool of destruction or something. What is the worst thing someone has done to you? Left me Where do your loyalties lie? In what order? My mom is still first. But supporting her hurts so much, because she is so self-destructive. So, like, will I be able to keep up that support forever? Next is my neighborhood. Then my school. But, I'm still like really young, so things could still change a lot, right? Who or what do you trust the most? Why? Myself is both the person I trust most and least. I've had to rely on myself as my parents failed me and as people turned against me, from the bad parts of my powers. But also, like one little slip up, and I do so much damage. So I also trust myself least. Who or what do you despise? Why? I despise people that take out their anger on the weak. Man, I've seen like, way too much of that. What qualities do you admire most in other people? Are these qualities you possess? I admire, like when people can stay cool and think things out. I think I'm pretty good at that, mostly . . . What qualities do you hate most in other people? Do you have any of those qualities? Man, I hate it when people give up. I can kind of get it though, cause sometimes, it seems hopeless. Do you have a secret identity? If so, who knows it? Do you hide it from people who are close to you? Why? I mean, I put on a mask and a super suit when I'm "Rot" and not just Consuelo. But also, I've got, like, big green dreadlocks and people in the neighborhood know about this cursed little kid that destroyed a bunch of houses and is now going to superhero high school. So it's kind of a really crappy secret identity, to be honest. Do you work well on teams and in groups? Are you a leader or a follower? I like the idea of working on teams and groups. People have to understand that they can't stand too close, or they'll get spooked, though. I kind of feel sad for people that ask the question: "are you a leader or a follower", because, like that question supposes hierarchy is the only type of human relationship, you know? Hierarchy is kind of messed up - people are just people, right? But, like in this world, we can be expected to play roles of leader and follower. And I think, like a good leader is someone that helps people out with their special abilities, not like someone that bosses others around for their own ego. And I think that, someone that people might think is a follower is actually just trying to keep a low profile because they are trying to avoid drama they are tired of. So it's like, not quite so simple. Are you on a super team? If so, how do you get along with your comrades? Do you trust them, or do you have secrets from them? I'd like to be on a super team. But I know it's not going to be easy for my teammates, because my powers make everything complicated. Are you a member of any church, fraternal organization, club, committee, political party, or other group? How much time do you spend on that? I used to go to Catholic church sometimes, when I was a kid. But it got to be too much of a problem, with my powers. Now I'm not totally sure what I believe. Kind of figuring myself out a bit. Personality & Beliefs I try to be strong. I try to be smart. I try to let go of what I can't control. My powers are dangerous and difficult, but I could also be a great superhero. Who are your heroes? **I'm going to punt on this one, until I know more about the campaign setting, as a player.** Did you ever become disillusioned with former heroes or idols? If so, why and what were the circumstances? Sure. I've spent a lot of time mad at my parents. I still am. But I also have to move on. Do you like being a hero? If so, what is the most rewarding part? If not, what makes you keep doing it? I love it! My powers being something more than a reason to hate me? Sign me up! Of course, my same old problems follow me everywhere. Is there anything that would make you give up hero work, or even switch sides? I mean, you like to think "no". But, probably, every super villain thought "no" at one point too. What are your short term goals (what would you like to be doing within a year)? Make some friends at Claremont. Be part of a super team. Maybe even control the bad parts of my powers better (yeah, right, wouldn't that be nice}? What are your long term goals (what would you like to be doing twenty years from now)? Same but more. More control. More friends. Better superhero. What is your greatest fear? Why? What do you do when something triggers this fear? That I'll kill someone close to me. Is there anything you would give you life for? Yeah, for sure. But like, I can't seem to get hurt now, so maybe this is an irrelevant question? How do you feel about money and material wealth? Do you desire it or disdain it? Are you miserly with what you have, or do you like to share? Is it mark of success, or a means to an end? I mean, everyone that grew up poor wants to be rich! But how would that even work for me? Everything I touch turns to dust, eventually. How do you generally treat others? I like, literally have to keep people at a distance. That's not a metaphor. Are you a trusting person? Has your trust ever been abused? Man, like every day. You have no idea. Are you introverted (shy and withdrawn) or extroverted (outgoing)? Do you have a lot of self-confidence? Confidence, yes. I extrovert as a defense mechanism, to keep the peace. But it's exhausting. So sometimes I introvert, just to try to avoid drama. How do you act around attractive, available members of your preferred sex? It's awful. If they get close, they'll hate me. Some time, I think I'll explode! What are your most annoying habits? Probably everyone thinks I'm a freak for how stand-offish I can be. But it's for everybody's protection. Do you feel contempt for any general category of people? Who are they, and why? Men that hit women. People that leave there kids. People that take there pain out on weaker people. What is your favorite food? Do you prefer any particular type of food? Do you take the time to enjoy your food, or do you eat as fast as you can? Dude. I frigging love gummy worms. I eat them with cereal. I eat them with chips. If people didn't think I was a freak for my powers, this is why they would shun me. What is your favorite drink (alcoholic or otherwise)? I could drink Yoohoo three times a day, easy. What is your favorite treat (dessert)? Oh wait, do I have to count gummy worms for this? They are more like, a staple for me. So I'm going to say chocolate for this one. Are there any specific foodstuffs that you find disgusting or refuse to eat? Pork belly is the worst thing ever. What is your favorite color? Are there any colors you dislike? Now it's black. Used to be green, though. What sort of music do you like? Is there any that you hate? I like dance music a lot. If you have a favorite scent, what is it? Lavender! Do you have a favorite animal? Squirrels! I love squirrels. They always stand up for themselves. And they are always saving things for later. What is your most treasured possession? Why? Sadly, the only thing I've been able to keep for any time is the special super suit I got from Claremont. Everything else just wears away. Do you enjoy "roughing it", or do you prefer your creature comforts? I like luxury. But again, that's more of a theory, because I've never really had it. Also, fancy stuff would disintegrate just as fast as cheap stuff, so . . . Is there a job or a task you would absolutely refuse to do? I'd like to think I would never be like an oppressor or a killer. Do you consider yourself a spiritual person? If so, how do your beliefs affect your life? How important is it to you? Yes, definitely, but in a, like, very non-specific way. Was your faith influenced or molded by anyone special? When I was really young, my mom would read me religious stories. Wanted me to be a good person. That seems like forever ago. If you belong to a religious organization, how often do you attend? Do you have a specific place of worship, or friends within the organization? How much do you agree with the beliefs of your organization? Use to go to church sometimes. But it's not practical now, with my powers. Could you kill? Have you killed? I mean, physically, it would be very easy for me to kill. But I want to never do it, and hope I never have. What circumstances led to you forming that conviction, or taking that action? There's already so much suffering the world. And my powers are so destructive. If I were okay with killing, just imagine the monster I could become! Are there circumstances under which you believe it is permissible to kill? What are they? Wow, you're like, really obsessed with this question, you know? They would have to be extreme. Like, there was no other option available to prevent something even worse. How would you react to watching someone kill another person? Would your reaction be different if the killer was a friend or an enemy of yours? It would be really sad. How would I react? I don't know. Am I calm? Is it a heated moment? How would you react if something important was stolen from you? I feel like I don't have a lot, so it would be really tough. I could get angry or sad. Hopefully, I'd come out of it with a positive outlook. But that could take a while to get there. How would you react to public humiliation? This happens to me like every day. It stinks. But, I try not to take it personally. Most people really can't help but react really badly when they get close enough to feel my powers. I try not to blame them. But it's not easy. How would you react if a good friend or relative were purposely or accidentally killed? Has it happened to you? I would be so mad, I think. I would probably feel hopeless. What power do we have against mortality? What do you consider to be the worst crime someone could commit and why? I mean, there is no such thing as a "worst crime". Every crime you can imagine, you can imagine one a little bit worse, right? Maybe nuclear war? If your life were to end in 24 hours, what five things would you do in those remaining hours? Tell my mom I love her Push myself to the absolute limit Maybe volunteer for a suicide mission? Disintegrate that disturbing statue of the giant bunny on Jefferson and Cook (morally, this would not be a crime) Eat lots of gummy worms Career & Training I'm a sixteen year old high school student, yo. Do you have any special training in your hero skills? If so, where and how did you get it? Since I decided to be a superhero when I was twelve, I would sneak into junkyards and practice my moves on old beater cars. If I ever face a super villain based off a Ford Impala, they're toast. Who taught you the most about your heroing abilities? What was your relationship with that person? I mean, I haven't really had a mentor. Maybe that will happen now that I'm at Claremont. Do you have any particularly unusual skills? How did you acquire them? I mean, I can destroy matter with a thought. Or . . . without a thought. Because I'm a mutant freak. Do you do something besides hero work for a living? Have you ever done anything else, or do you plan to? I'm a high school student. My powers make normal life so very difficult. Superhero seems like the only good fit. What is your preferred combat style? Honestly, I like to get in close, and really give it to them. I get so drained always having to keep distance from people. But, if they're like, really quick, I can dissociate their molecules at a distance, too. Since my body appears to have adapted to my powers by becoming immune to physical harm, I don't really bother dodging, like hardly ever. Gym teacher says that's lazy. But if I don't dodge, then I'm already positioned for a counter-strike, right? Maybe when I start feeling the hits, I'll start dodging? Have you ever received any awards or honours? Umm, not yet? What skill areas would you like most to improve in? Is there anything you can't do that you wish desperately you could? If I could control my powers to not destroy everything I touch, I would be so pumped! Also, if there were some way to stop people from reacting so negatively once they get close enough to sense my powers, that would be even more amazing. But I'm not holding my breath on either of those. How do you act around people who are more skilled than you in areas you'd like to improve? Are you jealous, or do you try and learn? Like if someone could teach me how to reign in the negative aspects of my powers, I think I would join their cult. If they didn't have a cult yet, I would start their cult for them. Lifestyle & Hobbies I'm and avid hobbyist in the pass time of avoiding accidentally destroying things and people with my powers. It's kind of sad, but I have a rich imaginary life. I'm a daydreamer. What is a normal day for you? How do you feel when something interrupts this routine? Wake up in a crater where whatever I was sleeping on used to be. Find some loose clothing I can put over my super suit that the suit can use as a sacrifice to my powers so that I can end up not naked later in the day. Hydrate. Try to get my mom to wake up and actually go to work. Eat breakfast maybe. Go to school. Feel like less of a freak than normal while there. Pursue dream of becoming a superhero while not accidentally destroying or enraging other teenagers trying to do same. Eat lunch. Probably involving tater tots and gummy worms. Try to make friends. Try to get involved in extracurriculars. Apologize for whatever I destroy that day. Get teased and shunned. Go home. Bring mom home if she ends up somewhere messed up during the day. Try to find something for dinner. Study. Go to sleep, Ideally on a steel sheet on a the ground floor. Out on a gravel lot on warm days works too. Set alarm to wake up a couple times during the night to try to mitigate the unintended destruction during my sleep. So, the routine is a bit of a grind. A disruption could be good or bad, depending. Do you have any hobbies, or interests outside hero work? What are they, and where did you pick them up? I like all the normal things. I love interacting on my phone. Works way better than real life. I'm super careful to always use those gloves that you can swipe with, so the glove disintegrate, instead of the phone. But accidents happen. A lot. So I spend a lot of time without a phone too. What do you do for fun? If I can find a context where I can let loose with my powers, I really like that. Do you have a costume? What does it look like? My super suit is pretty basic and black body suit, little black mask. But, it's super awesome, because it's this super high tech smart nanomaterial that can redirect my destructive power to another object that it's touching. So, I can put on like a loose sweater or something over it, and the seater will wear away over the course of the day. But the suit will actually not get destroyed, which is like, a really, really big deal for me. I love this dang thing! How do you normally dress when not in costume? Well, like whatever I can find, knowing it won't last but a few hours before it's gone. What do you wear to bed most nights? This seems kind of like an inappropriate question. . . . But, it would be, like, not hygienic for me to wear my super suit literally all of the time. So I usually sleep without any clothing, because, it would just burn off before I wake up anyway. Do you wear any special jewelry? What is it, and what does it look like? Nope. Unless I want it to disintegrate. Do you have a special place where you keep your valuables? Not much in the way of valuables. Everything I touch crumbles to dust, remember? What's your preferred means of local travel? How about long distance? Honestly, since I started being able to fly, it's just way, way better. I would like catch the bus, but like sit on a newspaper, or keep on getting up and moving around to not wear through any of the seats. It's super embarrassing! Miscellaneous When I was around ten, I got in trouble for being naked a lot, because I hadn't figured out the tricks to make sure all my clothes didn't disintegrate away before I could get to new ones. It was super awkward. Mom yelled at me, like, all the time. Have you ever made a will, or tried to make arrangements for your death? What provisions did you make? I have literally nothing to give away. If your features were to be destroyed beyond recognition, is there any other way of identifying your body? Um, I guess? What would you like to be remembered for after your death? Someone that really cared and helped people out. An advocate for the truth that nobody is disposable. Do you believe you pose a threat to the public? Why or why not? Um, 1,000% yes! Like every moment I'm worried about destroying something. What if some evil wizard or something mind-controlled me and set me loose? Bad news, right? But still, I'm a person and deserve to be free, right? I'm a good person and shouldn't be locked away, just because people are scared of me. What do you perceive as your greatest strength? I mean, seeing how crazy destructive and alienating my powers are, I think my greatest strength is that I am committed to being a good person anyway. What do you perceive as your greatest weakness? Wow. I feel a lot of strain on my mind a lot of the time. I'm worried that I might break and really do something super duper bad, like in the wrong context. As a player, if you could, what advice would you give your character? Speak as if he/she were sitting right here in front of you. Use proper tone so they might heed your advice... Seek the companionship of an indestructible yet emotionally mature sentient robot.