[Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

[Comic]

I knew I said yesterday no new threads until the last thread dies.. But that was yesterday.

 

So.. Here's an offering that is intentionally overbalanced. Could your team of heroes take him under their wing and make him a functional hero before he causes real harm?

 

[b][font=Courier New][size=2]Scan - Kelson Lanch[/size][/font][/b]
[size=2][font=Courier New]+[b][u]VAL[/u] [u]CHA[/u] [u]Cost[/u] [u]Base[/u] [u]Roll[/u] [u]Notes[/u][/b][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]$ 95 STR  85   10   28- HTH Damage 19d6 12.5kt [9][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 11 DEX   3   10   11- OCV 4 / DCV 4[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]$ 49 CON  78   10   19- [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 14 BODY  8   10   12- [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 14 INT   4   10   12- PER Roll 12-[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 14 EGO   8   10   12- ECV: 5[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 10 PRE   -   10   11- PRE Attack: 2d6[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 10 COM   -   10   11-[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 19  PD   -   19       38 PD (19/7h rPD)[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 10  ED   -   10       29 ED (19/7h rED)[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  4 SPD  19    2.1     Phases: 3, 6, 9, 12[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 29 REC   -   29[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]! 88 END  -5   98[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 87 STUN  -   87[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]+ [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 16 RUN   -    6"      [3][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 12 SWIM  -    2"      [2][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 29 LEAP  -   19"      29" forward, 15" upward [11][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]+[b]CHA Cost: 200[/b][/font][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]+[b][u]Cost[/u] [u]POWERS[/u][/b][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]! 13  4d6 Absorb Physical -> Stun (-1/2: Normal Characteristics Max.) [b][i]'Kinetic Induction[/i][/b][i]'[/i][/font][font=Courier New] 20 AP [][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 21  7 rPD / 7 rED Armor (+1/2: 2xHardened; -1/2: UEP Power Modifier) 'Kinetic Latency' 31 AP [][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  7  N-Ray Vision Stopped by Heavy Metals (-1/2: Affected as Radio) [b][i]'Kinetic Scan[/i][/b][i]'[/i][/font][font=Courier New] 10 AP [][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  2  Ultrasonic Hearing (-1/2: Affected as Radio) [b][i]'Kinetic Attenuation[/i][/b][i]'[/i][/font][font=Courier New] 3 AP [][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 15  EC '[b][i]Kinetic Field' [/i][/b][/font][font=Courier New]15 AP [][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  7  a) 1" Change Env.: Inertia Shift -6 DCV of Target (-1/2: Self Only; -1/2 One Target in Hex Only) [b][i]'Kinetic Control[/i][/b][i]'[/i][/font][font=Courier New] 30 AP [3][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]$ 10   10" Flight x2 Ncbt (+1/2: +1/4 Variable Adv.;-1/2: Restrainable) [b][i]'Kinetic Wings[/i][/b][i]'[/i][/font][font=Courier New] 30 AP [2][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 10  c) 12 rPD / 12 rED FF (+1/4: CEOTA; -1/2: UEP Power Modifier) [b][i]'Kinetic Shell[/i][/b][i]'[/i][/font][font=Courier New] 30 AP [2][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]$ 10  d) 1d6 EHKA (+1: +1/2 Variable Adv.; -1/2: UEP Power Modifier) [b][i]'Kinetic Containment[/i][/b][i]'[/i][/font][font=Courier New] 30 AP [2][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 15  LS: Immune: Age - Immortal; Self-Contained Breathing [b][i]'Kinetic Sustenance[/i][/b][i]'[/i][/font][font=Courier New] 15 AP [][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  8  LS: Safe: Cold/Heat/Pois./Press./Rad./Vac. (-1/2: Side Fx - Cosmetic Xform to Mimic Fx) [b][i]'Kinetic Adaptation[/i][/b][i]'[/i][/font][font=Courier New] 12 AP [][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]+[b]POWERS Cost: 118[/b][/font][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]+[b][u]Cost[/u] [u]SKILLS[/u][/b][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  0  Everyman Skills[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|      8- AK: Ottawa[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|      8- Acting[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|      8- Climbing[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|      8- Computer Programming[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|      8- Concealment[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|      8- Conversation[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|      8- Deduction[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|      8- KS: Sports[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|     4 pts LS: English[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|      8- Paramedics[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|     11- PS: Student[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|      8- Shadowing[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|      8- Stealth[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|     TF: Small Motorized Ground Vehicles[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]+[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  3  14- Hoist[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  2  3 pts LS: French (Fluent)[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  3  12- Lipreading[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  1   8- KS: Canadian History[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  1   8- KS: Religious Music[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  1   8- KS: Theology[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  3  12- Navigation[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  3  12- Power Skill: Kinetic Field[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  2  11- PS: Scrapper[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  3  12- Survival: Urban[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]+[b]SKILLS Cost: 22[/b][/font][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]+[b][u]Cost[/u] [u]Talents[/u][/b][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  3  Bump of Direction[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  3  Lightning Calculator[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  4  Speed Reading: 10x Normal[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]+[b]Talents Cost: 10[/b][/font][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]+[b][u]Cost[/u] PERKS[/b][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  0  None: home, vehicle of a normal student[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]+[b]Perks Cost: 0[/b][/font][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]+[b][u]Val[/u] [u]DISADVANTAGES[/u][/b][/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  5  Accidental Change: Stunned, 8-[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 15  DF: Teenager (Unconcealable, Noticed, Affects Behavior)[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 20  Hun.: Campaign Villain Group 8- (Mo Pow, Kill)[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 10  Mon.: Government Agency 8- (Mo Pow, NCI, Watch)[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 10  Phys.: Doesn't Know Own Strength (Freq., Great)[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 15  Phys.: Weird Biochemistry Requires Special Medical Care (Freq., Great)[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 20  Psy.: The Logic of Life -- Code vs Killing (Common, Total)[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 15  Psy.: The Logic of Truth -- Curious & Will not tell a direct lie (Common, Strong)[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 15  Psy.: The Logic of Justice -- Code of Justice (Very Common, Strong)[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  1  Quirk: God-fearing attitude[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  1  Quirk: Humble[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  1  Quirk: Modest[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  1  Quirk: Patriotic[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]|  1  Quirk: Can't resist a harmless practical joke[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 10  Rep.: Destructive Superprankster 11-[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 15  Soc.: Secret ID: Kelson Lanch, High School Senior (Frequently, Major)[/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]+[b]DISADVANTAGES Points: 150[/b][/font][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]Base Pts: 200[/font][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]Total Character Cost: 350[/font][/size]


[u][size=2][font=Courier New][b]Quote[/b][/font][/size][/u]

[size=2][font=Courier New]"Diverted sewage is blocking your leader's hidden escape shaft, as you can tell from his shouts on your intercom; the hostages are free and safe through the hole in the wall of their cell. This spot here on the wall, behind it is the main power line for all the lights, doors, elevators and air pumps in your underground base." *KRAKKA-BAM* BZZRTT!! "You're in the dark, trapped, suffocating, and have no one to hide behind. See reason, and repent."[/font][/size]

[u][b][size=2][font=Courier New][b]Motto/Creed[/b][/font][/size][/b][/u]

[size=2][font=Courier New]"Everyone can stand up for life, truth and justice, after their own way."[/font][/size]

[size=2][b][u][font=Courier New][b]Description[/b] [/font][/u][/b][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]A powerfully muscled teenager, about 6'4" tall, appearing around 225 lbs. and favored with dark wavy hair and brilliantly blue eyes, Scan appears in blue singlet with red and white stripes, red and blue boots and blue and white rectangulare force wedges forming angular wings. He levitates easily on these translucent leaf-shaped forces, and the glow of shifting energy contained by his power corruscates eerily in the area in hues of pale blue and red light and white sparks.[/font][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]This teenager is almost always stooped, slouching his approximately 6'1" frame and hunching his lean shoulders so his outdated loose drab greyish clothes always seem ill-fitting and ill-repaired, affected by a recent growth-spurt. His square-rimmed glasses, overstuffed backpack, dull hazel eyes and straight, stringy black hair convey 'perpetual outsider' without quite granting this teen the negative glamor of Emo or even Geek. He usually speaks quietly, almost a whisper; the squeaky, voice-cracking whisper of postponed puberty.[/font][/size]

[size=2][b][u][font=Courier New]Origin[/font][/u][/b][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]Kelson Lanch was a slightly sickly teenager who was subject to a freakish series of bizarre exposures. It began with a panoply of exotic drugs to treat his various conditions. Later, chronic chemical poisoning by environmental pollutants from a local factory (he lost that job) affected him. Sunstroke hit him during a period of unusual sunspots and solar flares while working outdoors (he lost that job too). While worm picking (lost that job), Kel picked up a newly landed and yet inexplicably cool meteor which disintegrated to dust in his hands. A lightning strike while caddying (lost that job) in the rain knocked him out the next morning. Finally, Kel was left overnight during a lunar eclipse in an EMR device when the technicans forgot he was there at the end of their shift. And there was a power surge.[/font][/size]

[size=2][u][font=Courier New][b]Powers[/b][/font][/u][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]Kelson Lanch has an innate kinetic field which makes him phenomenally strong, fast and tough, as well as extends his senses and amplifies the functions of his brain. Using kinesis, Lanch can see through solids, adjust his hearing into the ultrasonic range, thus he uses the hero name, "Scan". Kinetic manipulation allows Kel to levitate, accelerate his movement, and create heat. He laughs off physical impacts, in fact being invigorated by them through kinetic induction. Biokinetics shields him from adverse environmental effects, and sustains him without the need to breath. Although he does not yet know it, Kelson Lanch is unaffected by aging, as well.[/font][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]Scan is an untrained teenager, very new to superheroics and using his powers, and has a long way to go before he taps the upper limits of his abilities. His knowledge of how to handle his powers comes from perusing a copy of "Superheroing for Dummies" and some disastrous experimentation 'on the job'.[/font][/size]

[size=2][u][font=Courier New][b]Background[/b][/font][/u][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]Kel L. is a city kid, raised by a single mom who told him his father "had to catch a ship, but he'll be back one day." Kel doesn't place his faith in his worldly father. He has another to inspire and comfort him. 

Kel's always been a good boy, somewhat bullied, somewhat intellectual, somewhat feeble, fading to the background always. Once he turned sixteen, his mother gave him six months to get his life in order and move out on his own, since it would be good for "both of us to get on with life," she said. 

Kel's grades have picked up considerably, now that he can do math instantaneously in his head, read several thousand words a minute and see through solid objects to read the tests beforehand -- not that he would, but it makes it more important to him to prepare. He's doing much, much better in his new job as a scrapper after school and on weekends. And of course there's the secret life as Scan, seeking Life, Justice and Truth.

One may ask, why is the the government monitoring Scan? Scan's an obvious teenager with no known history or affiliations and inexplicable powers that are off the charts who can penetrate their secrets and will tell the truth about what he knows. He makes them nervous.

Why are major movers and shakers in organized supervillainy out to kill Scan? Well, he did tag their base with 'LOLCAT' graffiti, "I'M IN UR BASE, WATCHIN U.." using his kinetic containment as a joke after his kinetic scan led him to their lairs. He did also do considerable damage to their covert criminal activities, thus adding injury to insult.

Scan's over that incident phase, now. The villains, not so much.[/font][/size]

[size=2][u][font=Courier New][b]Motivations[/b][/font][/u][/size]

[size=2][font=Courier New]The kinesis that powers Kel reinforces logical thinking in Scan's mind. The most overwhelming of what he sees as 'logic' for him are Life, Truth and Justice, amplified sensibilities transformed by his kinetic power into obsessive forces. Kel is unaware that there is an imbalance in his psychology.[/font][/size]

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

Just so you can see what your superhero team is up against:

 

Kel L. has little by way of resources, nothing by way of taste, and he believes literally every word he read in "Superheroing for Dummies."

 

Hence, his costume matches his powers. In color scheme.

 

Not his fault his powers shine pale blue, glowing pink and sparking gold.

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

"He made me think of.. of.. I can barely say it," the woman seethed, venomously, composing herself so she could get through the thought, bracing herself mentally. Her fingernails cut into her palms through the leather gloves she wore, and blood dripped. "His impudent graffiti made me have to picture Grond.. PLEASURING HIMSELF! Ugh. Four groddy hands and that monstrous warty green.. AUGH! And that.. that wasn't the _worst_ part."

 

An icy pause, punctuated by the sound of blood dripping on the floor at the woman's feet. No one dared speak or breath. Finally, she intoned, caustically, a wild half-sob contained barely by the iron will of one of the most dangerous supervillainesses of the modern day, "The worst part was knowing, once one of the others read it to Grond, that Grond would go away and picture me!"

 

"This has eroded our internal discipline and adversely affected morale. It has cost us time and money. And it is personally derogatory, which I will not bear!"

 

"So, yes, we are going to hunt Scan down. We are going to hunt Scan down, and kill him."

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

Evolving Scan:

 

Power description enlarged:

 

Most of the energy control of kinetic containment is done through friction, what Scan calls his 'Ashton K-Series' inspired by the childish torture called the 'Pink Belly'.

 

• Razor Burn penetrates with a papercut-fine line of friction between two parts of a target.
  
• Wrist Burn pierces armor, like shearing forces.
  
• Carpet Burn covers a two meter diameter area.
  
• Rope Burn circumvents barriers like a length of rope.
  
• Afterburn keeps burning and burning for an extended period.
  
• Noogie is a burn that affects people past any sort of defenses, ignoring anything except oily, slippery or wet protective measures, but is mercifully only painful and not lastingly injurious, except to the pride.
  
• Atomic Wedgie takes advantage of the target's own energy, so is easy, and can be combined with Rope Burn.
  
• Sunburn appears to affect the target without visible sign.
  
• Windburn -- by forcing the friction of a beam of air (or anything) to increase, and pushing it, Scan can use his power to generate intense heat at range.
  
• Friction can also generate static, what Scan calls his 'Joy Buzzer'.
  
• Raising the inertia of a targets' molecules can generate cold, or what Scan calls 'Brain Freeze', too.

Despite being driven by logic, he retains a teenager's nature.

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

Just had to add, I love HeroMachine.

 

It gets better and better.

[Wyrm Ouroboros]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

... I could play this guy. He doesn't really appear balanced, but face it, he's a typical brick. He learns a few brick tricks -- thunderclap, ground-pound, etc. -- and he's an asset, because he doesn't have to hit Mr. 17 DCV, he just has to hit Mr. 17 DCV's 3 DCV hex...

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

... I could play this guy. He doesn't really appear balanced' date=' but face it, he's a typical brick. He learns a few brick tricks -- thunderclap, ground-pound, etc. -- and he's an asset, because he doesn't have to hit Mr. 17 DCV, he just has to hit Mr. 17 DCV's 3 DCV hex...[/quote']

 

I'd intended him to be an NPC foil to give a team a challenge, but be my guest to play him.

 

Roleplaying tips:

 

1) He's got casual Str of 48, that if he ever fails a Dex roll (38% of the time) is applied to fragile objects or people he's handling or if he's trying to pull a punch. And he has a code vs. killing. Avoiding touching anything or anyone is always on his mind.

 

2) There's the whole handling of the orientation question his colors seem to evoke. While he's a truthful person, he wants his answers to be life-affirming and just for everyone, so he never answers in a way that can be used against others.

 

3) His preferred method of putting down opponents who refuse to simply be reasonable and surrender is to wear them out shooting at him, then corner them so they can't dodge by shifting their inertia so he's got the advantage, followed by the dread Noogie attack, since it won't kill them. So.. uh.. He's easy to hate, if you're a villain.

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

An Interview with Scan, The Stained Glass Avenger

 

I like my apartment in the city.

 

My apartment has a walk-out patio above the local Starbucks, a place where the aroma of coffee is permanent and pleasant. The wireless connection is reliable, the view of the stars relatively unimpeded, and the noise of the city fades behind the rustle of maple trees in the gentle zephyrs of mid-town.

 

I hear church bells tolling, just close enough to be clear, not so near as to overwhelm more by volume than beautiful tones. In the early mornings, when the sun rises, across from me I can see the dazzle of red transforming to white as sunlight is reflected directly into my apartment by the church's massive windows. In the evenings, backlit by sunset, these same windows glow blue and green like bright jewels. It's a building I've never entered, where people I'm not sure I've ever met gather to hear sermons and sing songs that are distant from my life.

 

My apartment is a good, private place to collect my thoughts and write my stories in the midst of this vital city.

 

Or it was private, before Scan broke into my space.

 

It wasn't trespass, assuredly. I don't own the air. Scan, however, Scan fills up a vista.

 

There was a translucent flash of red and blue like the stained glass of the church had exploded out at me. Scan makes a big visual impression, a young man, all long limbs and bulging muscles aglow and sparking. I was working on my laptop, and just became aware of him out of the periphery of my vision, where the church ought to have been.

 

He was hovering there, floating on impossible wings, his back to me. Then, he turned, and smiled, and waved, and dove down to the street below. When he came back up, incredibly, he was carrying an SUV, upside down, clutching it by the roof, crumpling the metal like it were tissue paper. Inside the vehicle, I could clearly see four men wearing masks, and an assortment of firearms clattering around shaken by the power of this amazing flying boy.

 

"Don't worry, gentlemen. The flight to the police station will be much smoother here on out," Scan said, over the sound of the still-running engine, as the SUV's tires spun like the legs of a beetle flipped over on its back, gaining no traction in midair. "I'm sure the authorities will want to talk to you about that bank robbery three blocks away."

 

And then he looked toward me again, smiled one more time, nodded, and was gone in a blur with a mighty whooshing of wind.

 

That was how I first saw Scan.

 

If someone had told me this morning that I'd meet a man -- no, a boy, he is that young -- who flew on glowing wings, I'd have laughed in their face. If, in that moment, sitting over my laptop, my jaw hanging slack, someone told me that he would be back, and speaking to me, by nightfall, I'd have stared in disbelief.

 

Scan returned, floating there, clearly looking at me, wings outspread. It didn't seem he had been gone long, but he apologized anyway, as if he'd been rude. "I'm sorry, Miss. I had to give a statement to the police, or I would have been back sooner. You wanted to speak to me?"

 

Was he a mind-reader? Had I wanted to say something to him? Had I forgotten?

 

He pointed to my laptop. "You're a reporter. Your job is to report the news to the people. You wanted to ask me about the alleged bank robbers?"

 

I recovered myself. He seemed so calm about the flying, the capture of the heavily armed gang, the carrying an SUV like it was a half-finished box of pizza. It made it easier to take in stride that we were having this improbable conversation above Starbucks.

 

I invited him to sit down on my patio, and we talked.

 

Who is he, this strange boy with inexplicable powers?

 

"It is best to say Scan. It is not so much a name, as a gift and a mission. Entrusted with powers, any one would choose to honor that trust by serving what we all know to be right -- protecting the life, truth and justice of others, of people, wherever can be," he said.

 

And who gave him this gift, this trust, and what exactly are these powers?

 

He smiled, softly, and looked away, a bit abashedly before answering. The list was not short. "It is most comforting to believe that Higher Wisdom intended these powers for good, and to have faith that doing what is right with this gift is what is meant to be done. Just as with all people, and all gifts, whatever they are. In this case, these powers reveal what is hidden, give great strength and protection from all harm, as well as the ability to move very quickly, even to fly. The powers also change how things move, and even create heat, cold or sparks."

 

When asked how strong, how fast, and what hidden things were revealed, Scan said, "So far, no need of strength has been found wanting. It seems ungrateful to try to measure or test these gifts, meant to serve and protect. As it is interesting, it is possible with these powers to circle the globe in under an hour."

 

Scan demonstrated his namesake gift by reading the notes on the screen of my laptop, right through the lid. He made other demonstrations of this penetrating eyesight, from identifying the contents of my handbag to telling me where in my apartment I'd left my cell phone, right through a solid brick wall and inside a desk drawer.

 

I asked Scan how old he was, and was surprised he said he was only eighteen. He seemed older, though plainly he is still a teenager in appearance.

 

When asked if he got cold flying in his unprotected costume, Scan explained, "This gift adapts to what goes on around it. When cold, it becomes the cold and grants immunity to harm from it. Though it doesn't stop icicles from forming, or turning blue."

 

About others like himself, Scan said, "These gifts are special, but every human being has gifts, many more special in their own way. If anyone wants to, they can say they are another just like Scan. Everyone can stand up for life, truth and justice, after their own way."

 

Scan went on. "This is something that has caused a lot of concern. It is important to set people's minds at ease, since there is already so much in the world to worry about. The powers of Scan are more than functions or abilities. They are more than the joy of speed or the pleasure of strength. The powers are a trust, and belong equally to everyone, so far as can be. There is a person, a human being, who bears this trust. That person knows what it means to be human, to feel limited, to be challenged by ordinary living, and to have relationships like anyone else. The powers without the humanity would be diminished. Some human questions, like relationships and so on, have no proper place in the work of Scan. Justice asks that all people be treated fairly and everyone deserves life and truth equally. So whatever the attachments of the human being, whatever walk or creed, those are left behind while Scan serves so far as is possible."

 

What exactly does Scan see as his mission? "Everywhere there is goodness. That lesson has been both a comfort and a beacon. In too many places, though, that goodness is hampered and set upon by miseries. Drugs, crime, violence, accidents and disasters, conflicts and misunderstandings multiply in dark and hidden places to feed on the innocent. Where these are, Scan will find them, and will relieve the affliction of ordinary people."

 

What is the biggest source of such miseries Scan has found so far? "There was a group of terrorists, who had a secret base. They were gathering weapons and fighters, committing or planning crimes, and preparing to do terrible things. They couldn't be left to act, unopposed. There were too many, and they were too well-organized, to completely capture them all. But now they know they are being watched for, and now they know they can never be sure what they are doing is not observed. It won't be long before they are all brought to justice for their past crimes and their foiled and future plans."

 

And with that, Scan flew off, the interview over. He seemed sincere, even humble, throughout.

 

After the interview, I managed to follow up with the usually taciturn Department of Homeland Security. They were willing to confirm little, other than that Scan had cooperated with the DOH in locating what was termed 'a substantial cache of materials' and a large group of 'key individuals of interest'.

 

Further research confirmed what Scan told this reporter about his powers. He's been witnessed to ignore bullets, stabbing and being run over. His strength appears to know no limits. He has been spotted in locations more than a three hundred miles apart practically simultaneously.

 

There are rumors in the underworld, it is said, of a large bounty for Scan posted by some figures allegedly involved in drugs. So far, no one has succeeded in an attempt to collect on this bounty.

 

There are also stories about Scan's methods. Some anonymous sources report that Scan has a sense of humor when dealing with the toughest and most violent offenders, although no one has substantiated any allegation that Scan has ever abused a criminal in the course of capture. It seems such boyish pranks as the "Atomic Wedgie" and "Noogie," which we all might remember from the playground, await recalcitrant terrorists.

 

The city has a powerful young guardian, one whose mission is to watch over and protect us... and rub evildoers the wrong way.

[Wyrm Ouroboros]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

1) He's got casual Str of 48' date=' that if he ever fails a Dex roll (38% of the time) is applied to fragile objects or people he's handling or if he's trying to pull a punch. And he has a code vs. killing. Avoiding touching anything or anyone is always on his mind.[/quote']

 

Uh ... hold on a second, here ... ah, I see. 'Doesn't know his own Strength (Frequently, Greatly): 10 points.' If he's that uncertain of his own strength that he's afraid to backhand a villain for fear of caving their head in, and he can't handle vases or chinaware without needing to make (and probably failing) a DEX roll, I'd make this a lot greater of a disad -- higher frequency, higher critical result. Forcing him to use Casual Strength on an 'oopsie' means, on average, 34 STUN, 10 Body. For a handshake.

 

If you're going to force it to that level, I'd either make it 'All the Time, Greatly', or let him purchase that 48 points of strength with the limiter of 'Always On'...

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

Uh ... hold on a second' date=' here ... ah, I see. 'Doesn't know his own Strength (Frequently, Greatly): 10 points.' If he's [i']that[/i] uncertain of his own strength that he's afraid to backhand a villain for fear of caving their head in, and he can't handle vases or chinaware without needing to make (and probably failing) a DEX roll, I'd make this a lot greater of a disad -- higher frequency, higher critical result. Forcing him to use Casual Strength on an 'oopsie' means, on average, 34 STUN, 10 Body. For a handshake.

 

If you're going to force it to that level, I'd either make it 'All the Time, Greatly', or let him purchase that 48 points of strength with the limiter of 'Always On'...

 

I agree with many of your points, and had wondered if I'd undervalued the disadvantage. Then I considered the ways the character has to mitigate: 1, he has an easy to use NND, so can buffer bad guys (or anyone who refuses to abide his 'please don't touch me' restriction) from his strength that way. Mind you, giving a Noogie, even at the most reduced level, to anyone who tries to touch him in SID won't make Kelson Lanch the most popular kid in the world. 2, nothing demands that a person handle fragile items, either. 3, he's meant to be roleplayed as someone with an entire super team who have put their minds to keeping this disadvantage from causing destruction. 4, A way to drain or suppress his strength could be found and used. 5, It would only take a few points of experience to (for example) increase his Dex roll, allow him to make his FF UBO, and learn PS: Repair -- all of which are valuable in their own right. 6, the more points the disad is worth, the harder it is to buy off with experience.

 

Some of these considerations were exactly the sort of question that inspired this character/scenario. In their earliest hours, the Hulk, the Thing, Sunspot, even Spidey to a lesser extent, faced similar issues (as well as many villains).

 

It's classic, standard Brick business.

 

The fact that Scan is so strong his casual strength itself is Brick level just makes it more urgent to pay close attention to.

 

But after it's been worked out by the PC's on the team, it's done, and the character has to stand on his own as the product of this subplot twist.

 

Which is why I'd have likelier treated him as an NPC, since there's elements of forcing the player into the role, and I wouldn't want to do that to a player.

 

Though I really like the 'partial Always On' Strength idea! That could be a keeper.

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

I usually revisit my characters quite a bit, even once I've committed them to another purpose.

 

Scan has gone through forty or so images, at least two dozen minor edits of his character sheet, and extensive revisioning.

 

I see his special effects like the shields of Justice, from New Universe, only with a few differences. These are flat rectangular planes that are highly manipulable, and glow blue for inertia, red for friction, or white for momentum. At any time, two of these three properties form the surfaces, while the third shines out the edges of the rectangles.

 

Scan has learned to form the multiple semisubstantial rectangles into layered armor (his force field), wings (flight), and blades or lances or the like (HKA).

 

I find myself with W.O. -- I want to play this character.

 

I have two issues. The obvious.. he's got 95 STR! And then there's that EC. I generally avoid bricks with EC's, but, but, but.. It is an EC that looks good, otherwise, doesn't it?

 

I'm a bit iffy on the Change Environment being built with so much Variable Advantage.. but it does look like it might be fun to toy with.

 

And his skills and his situation -- a teenager who won't touch anyone or anything that he might break.. And there's so much he might break. He can't even join the football team as a towel boy, for fear of destroying the towels. His hero ID as a standoffish bully and show off. His SID will have the reputation as a jinxed, antisocial clutz.

 

Anyone have any ideas on whether they'd ever allow a brick with an EC like this, whether the CE is a good representation of a variable use of kinetic manipulation, and if a low CV, high STR Brick with flight is actually playable?

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

I've revised the Change Environment to be combat useful, making Scan actually playable as opposed to strictly NPC material. Able now to lower the DCV of one target (at least some of the time) with regard to Scan's attacks, with an effort, Scan can at least be expected to hit opponents.

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

Kel Gets a Job

 

Sylvie hated the scrapyard. But it was where her uncle worked, and she frequently had to wait in the office while he finished work and closed up. At eleven, she was too big for coloring books or dolls any more, so she read or did homework, or got bored.

 

The sounds of shouting from outside startled and frightened the girl. Sliding from her chair, she edged to the grime-coated window, and looked out to see strange men with uncle Pranesh. Men in green outfits. Men carrying weapons!

 

And there was a boy.

 

The boy picked his way through the scrap, carefully. "You know," Sylvie heard him speaking English, "the reason the guy doesn't have a gun like you might have something to do with all the gas fumes from all the wrecks."

 

The Viper agents looked at their blasters, grimacing. Two pointed theirs at the boy as he interrupted their work. Their leader barked an order as all but two of the agents turned their attention from the older man, Pranesh, who Sylvie could only now see was bleeding from his mouth and nose.

 

Sylvie gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, and running for the cell phone where uncle Pranesh kept it in his desk. By the time she was back to the window and could see again, the boy was surrounded by six of the evil men.

 

"I don't want to hurt you," the boy said, quietly. He was as tall as most of the men, but slim and very young, maybe sixteen. And mousy-looking, with his hair slicked down and his glasses pushed high on his nose making his eyes look like bug's eyes.

 

The men, however, didn't seem to feel obligated to extend the boy the same courtesy. One clubbed the boy with the butt of the large weapon he carried, clubbed the boy right to his knees. The men spoke, but their English was too rapid and coarse for Sylvie to follow.

 

The boy, on hands and knees, crawled forward still. "You can hit me all you want," the boy said, which Sylvie thought odd, as these men did not seem to need any encouragement, as their boots landed on the boy's flanks and face.

 

The boy continued, crawling toward the last man, the one holding up uncle Pranesh. The boy stood up under the rain of boots and clubbing, and told that last man, "let him go, or I will have to make you."

 

As the man moved his large gun (as Sylvie thought it), the boy slapped at it, sending the weapon flying into a pile of wrecks stacked thirty feet high. It seemed clumsy, on the boy's part, especially as he said "Oops."

 

Pranesh was forgotten, as the costumed men -- they made Sylvie think of motorcyclists, the kind who raced -- refocused on the boy, knocking the teenager down again while Pranesh crept back toward the office dazedly.

 

Sylvie watched, while she spoke on the phone to the 911 operator. She watched, and tears streamed down her face as the teenager crawled away, the men surrounding him and beating and beating on him past Sylvie's understanding. They rounded a corner, still with the awful pummeling and kicking of the boy, lost in the midst of their legs.

 

A few moments later, there was a terrible crash. Uncle Pranesh had made it into the office, and Sylvie helped him bolt the door and block it with the chair and with parts from around the office. When both of them returned to the window, the boy was back. He was standing, though slouched, once again picking his way through the scrapyard.

 

< the boy called in French, in the general direction of the office. <>

 

<> Pranesh called back, clutching Sylvie protectively to him. She could see her uncle's face had begun to swell up horribly, and he was missing teeth! Sylvie cried more, terrified by her uncle's injuries.

 

<> the teenager replied. <>

 

The boy seemed to be looking around, Sylvie noticed, just as she tore herself from her uncle's grip and ran for the refrigerator. She made a cold compress for her uncle, and held it out to him.

 

<> the teenager shouted, then looked toward the direction he'd come.

 

<> the boy said.

 

Sylvie and Pranesh remained in the office, hearing noises now and again, waiting what seemed forever for the sound of sirens. The sirens did eventually arrive. Pranesh -- and his teeth -- and Sylvie were hurried out of the yard, and taken to the hospital. The men in the ambulance seemed to know exactly what to do with the teeth, and there was a woman with the police who talked to Sylvie like she was a little eight year old, not a big eleven-year old.

 

They didn't see the teenager again. Not immediately.

 

Sylvie didn't understand, or think about, or want to think about, how the police captured the bad men. The police lady said that all the men were captured, and that was what mattered. The police lady looked at Sylvie strangely when Sylvie asked about the boy, but that was all.

 

Sylvie was with Pranesh when the boy came to the hospital, later that night, after all the police left.

 

The boy said he was sorry for all the trouble, and wished he could help.

 

He was an odd boy, Sylvie thought. He backed away whenever anyone got close to him, like he was scared of everyone, Sylvie thought.

 

Uncle Pranesh was very worried for his business. There was so much scrap coming in and so many wrecks, and no one else, and so many worries. Sylvie didn't understand half of it, because Pranesh spoke in a mix of French, English and Hindi.

 

The teenager apparently understand enough to offer to work for Pranesh, to look after the scrap yard.

 

Pranesh seemed reluctant at first to hire the boy, but what choice did he have? Sylvie would stay with Pranesh in the hospital, and help him at home while he recovered from his concussion and broken nose and arm. Kel -- the boy -- would stay at the scrapyard and if his work was satisfactory, uncle Pran would pay him a fair wage.

 

One day, a long time later -- it was always a long time before Pranesh trusted anyone new near Sylvie -- Kel and Sylvie were talking. Sylvie sometimes went to the store for Kel, to buy little things for him, starting around that time.

 

"Mr. Kel," Sylvie said, "howcome those bad men could hit you so much like that and you didn't get hurt like mon oncle Pran?"

 

Kel thought about the question a long time, it seemed to Sylvie. "There were many reasons, Sylvie. The Good Lord looks out for us all, I think, is the main thing."

 

Sylvie sometimes talked to Kel about their parents. He was like her, since he had never met his father, too, and her mother went away, as well. Kel picked up the scrapping business quickly, and uncle Pranesh grudgingly was beginning to like the teenage boy more and more, and trust him with greater responsibilities.

 

Pranesh, it seemed, was even enjoying his life a little. With one good, reliable worker, and the scrapyard running smoothly for the first time ever, as far as Sylvie could tell, uncle Pran had money to spend, had time to take off from work, and once he recovered from his injuries, was sometimes even fun to be around.

 

Sylvie knew that Kel lived at the scrapyard, she thought, before Pran did. None of them talked about that. Uncle Pran knew what poverty was like, and Kel was a good worker. Sylvie merely intuited, like a child may, that the topic was one that did not need discussing.

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

Stop signs, and warning signs.

 

What would I look at on this character if a player brought it to me to play?

 

Scan has, as I see it, four items I'd put stop signs beside, and two warnings, which is about 2-3 times what I like to see on a character when I GM.

 

His Str and Con are extremely high, so I set them as stop sign.

 

The Strength shouldn't be impossible for a GM to handle in a campaign where there are villains like Ripper and Grond, since both have higher overall effective strengths (hoist skill, strato-punch, brick tricks and high combat values). Since this is exactly the target range of major villains, it's one that would generally not be an issue for me. Also, Scan's STR is so high, and his physical and Psych. Lims are such that, he'll have to show restraint when in combat in ways that makes this a liability fairly often.

 

Con makes Scan harder to wear down, and much harder to Stun, than most, but his low DCV and lack of special defenses means he can be brought down much like any brick might. This is the role of Bricks, and there are tougher examples when characters with damage reduction, missile deflection, force wall and high DCV are counted.

 

There's a (minor) warning next to his sold-down END. It's my habit to keep END and Stun close for characters, a sort of signature or luck ritual. There should be no adverse effect to this sell-down, and it does help balance a character who really shouldn't be equipped for endless pushing or all-out use of all his abilities full on, as he's still a young new hero.

 

N-ray vision is always a sticking point for a GM. Since this one has the 'affected as radio' limitation, it can be blocked by not only its standard defined substance but also by electromagnetic powers, darkness to radar, suppression, radio flash, and it can be detected when used by anyone with radio perceptions. This helps a GM moderate the plot-bustiness of the sense. (Also, it's not Discriminating, which helps a bit, too.)

 

The other two stop signs are the two powers with variable advantage.

 

The VA on Flight reflects well that Scan has a highly versatile ability to manipulate kinetic properties, and given that the base power is only 10" of movement, not terribly unbalancing. It makes it possible for Scan to be strato-punched and get back into the battle, which is a dramatic element of battles for characters of his type (Rogue, Superman, Martian Manhunter, Hulk, other speedsters, Ms. Marvel, and many teleporters). And it lets Scan play the role of a far-ranging superhero who travels the globe and to space in times of need. Since about one fifth of my campaigns involve leaving the city where the main action takes place, this is not a problem, in particular.

 

The VA on the friction-burning KA similarly represents the versatility of the kinetic manipulation, and tops out at 6 DCs plus a 1/2 advantage. A similarly, or more, versatile multipower could be used by a character, so it's hard to see this advantage causing much of an issue, compared to Summons, Transform, XD travel or the like. Almost all of the villains in the campaign will have the resistant defenses to cope with the average attacks of this KA, and the character is restrained by code vs. killing, so would be more limited in using this power against living opponents of unproven mettle. Which is an element I like to see in characters -- a power the character's code of conduct prevents them from using wrecklessly.

 

I like to make noncombat skills and perks around ten percent of the whole character, to give them potentially interesting pursuits between battles, as well as round them out. For Scan, I believe the skills suit the character well and tell a story in themselves.

 

I'm a bit iffy on the Disadvantages, noting no Vulnerabilities, DNPCs, or Susceptibilities. With plenty of Psych. Lims, he's a fair target of clever mentalist villains, however, and he has no special defenses - Flash/Power/Mental/Invisible/Desolid/High DCV - so most villain teams will have some way to affect him.

 

But he's not for every campaign, by any means.

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

The Journal of Sc*an

 

(*'s indicate pencil breaks visible to the reader.)

 

DAY* 1.*

 

The book recom*mends ev*ery superh*ero kee*ps a journ*al of their exploi*t*s*.*

 

The firs*t day is ver*y clear* in my mem*ory*.*

 

It was morning*.*

 

There'*d been no sleep that* night*.*

 

Trapped in the mac*hine,* pray*ing to help cope with the fears --* of death, of illness*,* of the small space closing* in on me --

 

(Tears of frustration begin to speckle the page.)

 

So* hard* to* go on*.* Like* this** everything* I touch* breaks*.* It* all break*s*!**

 

Can* n*ever* t*ouc*h* an*yo*n*e.*

 

N*ot* l*ike th*is*.

 

M*us*t* st*op no*w.

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

The Journal of Scan

 

DAY 2

 

It is a gift, and a blessing.

 

This pen.. or pencil.. what to call it, exactly? Stylo, maybe?

 

It will not easily break when held, though if care is not used it bends slightly. It is a piece of carbide rod, heated and quenched, over and over.

 

When made hot by friction until its tip glows, it scorches the page, so writing is once again within easy reach.

 

This is something to be so thankful for.

 

What would life be like, if writing were not possible?

 

Touching, though.. That burden remains, which gladly is born as a test and trial and proof of hope. Though it brings great sadness to not hold a hand, or feel the warmth of another.

 

One day, this too shall pass.

 

The first day was a day of waking up from fears, fears that haunted a young man trapped in a too frail body within a too mysterious machine, alone, abandoned, sleepless and in the dark silence.

 

Colours floated in the tight confines of the space. The white curve of the walls of that chamber reflected the pale red and blue glows, and became brighter white in places.

 

Heat, chill, an oppressive shifting and an exciting impulse to move ran throughout the small cell, right through my body.

 

The urge to flee the space, the mysterious coloured lights, overcame my soul. And the coloured lights of the Scan obliged.

 

Of course they would. Scan is the soul of me.

 

Scan flew from the tight confines, white lights creating momentum, and blue suppressing inertia, and red freeing friction.

 

There, in the predawn light that streamed through the windows, Scan floated for the first time on wings of the unknowable.

 

Scan awoke in the world, and it was good. Wherever Scan looked, through the blue, white and red lenses, Scan's sight penetrated, and Scan saw so clearly.

 

A racing mind -- never before were thoughts and perceptions so clear, so rapid -- a calm heart, for the first time Scan learned the shape and life in the heart within my chest.

 

The world is full of wonders.

 

That morning was the start of a day of discovery, the dawnlight streaming through the sky and clouds and the windows of the world.

 

Flight, sight, and the armour were the first Scan's realizations. Exploring the city for the first time by air, feeling the chill of the higher winds, turning blue and finding icicles form on eyelashes, and taking no harm from the cold as Scan adapted and became one with it.. that was an hour of thrills.

 

The armour, as red friction heated and thawed and turned ice to steam and protected the warmth of the body of the new Scan, the armour formed and took translucent shape.

 

Which is well.

 

Scan saw through walls, ceilings, asphalt, dirt, concrete, limestone and granite. Everywhere Scan looked the world was good.

 

Everywhere, except the one place Scan happened upon in flight, the place with the armoured men, armed with strange and terrible-looking weapons. They had people bound and chained there, hidden and cruelly used. Scan saw more, elsewhere, in this place of offenses against life, decency and justice.

 

Scan learned then that there was strength to be called on, and what that strength must be for.

 

It was nothing for Scan to break into the underground structure. The concrete and steel crumbled and folded explosively at what seemed a light touch. Weapons shot Scan, but Scan's armour was more than the equal of their power.

 

Men came at Scan, and there the terrible truth of the burden that comes with strength became clear. A casual backhand, thoughtless really and reflexive, laid out the first of the men, shattering the wall where his body struck it.

 

And Scan saw where the man's bones broke, and flesh bruised and burst. The man would not die, but it cannot be Scan's measure to treat life so carelessly.

 

The white glow came to Scan's aid, helping show where and how to aim accurately all this new might. The red glow came to Scan's aid, aimed at the weapons of the men, heating them until too hot for these terrorists to hold. The same glow makes it possible to record these recollections.

 

Wouldn't the teachers be so proud, their efforts to produce a writer have born some modest fruit? It would be well to pay better attention to them in future, so these humble scribblings don't sound so poor.

 

The uniformed men were easy to defeat. Deep within the building, the machines began to move, and the man in the uniform with the largest badges started to make for a tube that led to the surface. It would not do to have him escape.

 

Especially when there was a wall adjoining to a sewer, filled with liquids that would block off the leader's escape. It was worth a few moments of being shot and delaying the hostages' escape to ensure justice for this terrorist master of hate.

 

The disarmed agents of terror fled with their downed fellow, deeper into the base. The hostages were easily freed and led to safety. The hostages Scan could not touch.

 

And over the entrance to this top level of the underground terror structure, Scan left the warning scrawled in the heat of friction, "I'M IN UR BASE, WATCHIN' U MASTER of HATE."

 

Scan was not completely pleased with the graffiti, since it got cramped near the end and the 'of' and 'H' ended up looking more like a 'B'. Though that was happening in the base's lower levels, too.

 

The authorities rounded up the sewage-drenched leader and most of his henchmen. A few mercenaries staying in the base somehow escaped, but Scan was giving statements to the police while all that was happening, so neither was made aware of it nor was told how it happened or who escaped.

 

That was Scan's first day, barely a week since.

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

The Journal of Scan

 

DAY 3

 

The remainder of Scan's first day was with the police, being questioned, before it became clear the authorities served neither justice nor law.

 

Their attitudes were increasingly surly, they bullied, ignored and subverted truth, and did nothing to show they cared for the needs of the living, running around in circles and delaying while the world cried out with pressing needs.

 

When asked if they were arresting Scan, they became more irritable still. So, as evening turned to night, they were left with, "When you need, then make it known to the world, and we will see if your calls are answered." They deserve no less protection and service than anyone else. No power can contain Scan.

 

A full day had been lost, which meant the job was lost. The boarding house would be full of people, inquisitive and easily alarmed. There was no reason to frighten and upset them. The rooftops of the city had many private places, comfortable enough for someone who knew how to survive in the urban landscape.

 

Sleep was deep and dreamless, a slumber of the righteous. For the first time, the once frail body rested well. For the first time, the once troubled mind found peace. For the first time, the spirit soared free and unfettered.

 

Church.

 

If ever there was a need for spiritual guidance, comfort and counsel, this was it.

 

Shaman was sleeping off a bender behind the dumpster in restaurant alley.

 

The library was not yet open.

 

There was a book in the bookstore, Superheroing for Dummies, which was very useful, but even through the brick wall of the store only took a few minutes to read and raised more questions than it answered.

 

Church worked, sometimes. Church is more than a place to go to be warm and find out when the next shift at the food bank will be. In Church, you can hear clearly. In church, you can hold onto the vision of the better world, steady and true.

 

Scan arrived early, very early. The doors were not even open, but the bell tower invited. In the choir loft, hymn books were there to read, a thousand different pages, dozens of times over, seen from every angle.

 

They had such beautiful words, in three.. no, five.. six languages. French, English, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, even German. You don't need to speak the languages to know the songs. You only need faith.

 

How many hours praying in the choir loft, seeing hymns through closed eyes, on the pages of closed books.

 

Then activity began, and then the filing in of people for the early mass. There would be no reason to frighten or alarm the worshippers, no combat calling Scan out in this place. So it was not Scan who appeared to them. Only a boy. One of their own, who could not touch them. The missal, too, was swimming with words, through closed pages the boy could not touch.

 

The celebrant was new, not the priest Scan hoped to speak to for advice. His sermon was pious, however, and he was a man of faith. When the mass ended, it was time for confession.

 

The priest listened, sharp intake of breath now and again. Questions. Confirmation. Discussion. Proof offered through the screen of the confessional, the blue glow, and the white, but not the violent red. A pause.

 

The counsel of the priest was prayer. Supplication for guidance, and return to discuss again, another day.

 

"These things unfold to us and are revealed not in our own time, but in the time chosen for them. Do not rush to judgement or rash choices. Consider quietly, and pray for clarity," the new priest said. It was so little, and so much.

 

And afterwards, realizing that there would be no telephone.. which would require touch.. and uncomfortable conversations about why work was missed and how the job would not continue.. A final pay would go into the bank.. which Scan could not touch.

 

But Sunday is a day of rest, and quiet contemplation. The rent would not run out for a few weeks. So many hymns sang of providence. Somehow, this too would pass.

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

The Journal of Scan

 

DAY 4

 

Scan couldn't touch Shaman to help carry him to a shelter. Not so many shelters will take someone who is using. Couldn't bring Shaman food or water -- the bottles shattered, exploding like fireworks -- or blankets. Scan couldn't convince anyone to come.

 

Everyone knew old Shaman, how tough he was, and how fiesty. Scan made it warm, at least, for Shaman, the red glow heating the concrete, and debris piled up to help cut down the wind. And then, Scan spent much of the night, talking and singing softly. Hoping Shaman would wake up, watching Shaman's heart as it beat.

 

Sleep came like mercy, eventually, and dreams and nightmares and rest for the body. When light woke Scan, the sun rising through closed eyes, Shaman was gone.

 

Shaman always was an early riser, and he was nowhere to be seen.

 

And it was a school day. And.. no way to do laundry normally, though Scan could dive through the icy water of the lake and steam dry, everything still looked like it had been slept in and worn wet. At least there was no stink. Fingers run through hair had to serve as comb. The hair didn't tear like tissue, the way everything else from clothes to books did, at the least handling.

 

And school was harder than it had ever been. Seeing all those people with new clarity. It was hard not to stare. And having to remember not to touch. Having to slouch down when the teachers yelled for not taking notes, closing eyes, reciting passages aloud from the textbooks and notes of others nearby to prove there was no need to shout, that the lessons were working, that the teachers were being paid attention to, wasn't that what they wanted?

 

And the teachers believed. And the bullies whispered and jeered. The first time as teacher's pet was not easy. Teacher's pets were always fair game before. Now.. now it seemed less fair, unjust, and wrong. Piled on top of being the feeb.. especially now, when with a little push.. would you push, shatter brick, concrete, bone and flesh, to prove a bully wrong?

 

And for the first time, now that it was possible, it wasn't even tempting. The fact of it, the actuality of seriously injuring these thoughtless children, made the very thought repulsive. An unclean, impure impulse, unworthy and stomach-wrenching.

 

School was easier than ever, and harder. The math textbook was like cake. Everything came together, so fast. It took less time to know the answers than to glance at the answer key pages. English and French, the words flowed so fast where once they were slow and clumsy and hard to find.

 

Everything was easier about school except being a person. Rule one, touch no one; rule two, touch nothing. Because the consequences to these people would be so harsh. Even the ones who were unjust, cruel and obnoxious.

 

And it was so hard not to stare, with eyes that saw everything, in school.

 

With all its burdens, new ones and old ones worse than before, it was the first day school mattered for learning. It's important. When it all comes together and the learning starts to take on its own life in the mind, school matters.

 

But Scan can't go to school. What teachers would teach? What other students would attend to the lessons? Scan must be silent, to hear the lessons. Scan has to remain unnoticed, to see.

 

And what to do about the rent? After school, searching for a new job that had no touching.. to go to school, a person has to live somewhere. And where was Shaman?

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

The Journal of Scan

 

DAY 5

 

This was a day.

 

Scan visited the priest again, as promised.

 

And looked for Shaman, without luck.

 

Caught bank robbers.

 

Made it up a little to the police.

 

Was interviewed by a lady reporter.

 

And a devil from hell beat the snot out of Scan. Which still hurts a bit.

 

The priest -- no names, the book says no names -- asked about exorcism, and offered absolution. There was talk, without judging or telling or forcing. Just talk. It helped. But time was not really on the priest's side this morning, so he gave advice about what to read, what might be worth thinking over, and what prayers he found helpful.

 

Shaman was still nowhere to be found. He wasn't at his usual haunts -- hadn't even been seen there. Someone said sometimes Sham did that, just took off for parts unknown. But of all the people to talk to, this was Shaman, who'd seen it all, and knew what to say about everything. And he wasn't there.

 

School was different. Still so hard, training hands to not reach for anything, arms to hang loose by sides, fingers not to close or snap or flick. Feet to shuffle so toes didn't catch and crush and kick. Just how sad was it, that people let it pass without notice? Had the feeb always been such an unremarkable feeb? Are people so wrapped up in themselves they don't really ever see others as they really are?

 

The books are a joy, and a bit of a menace. They're easiest to read from the front, but they're usually stacked with the spine out. It makes it a challenge to read without being given funny looks. They're so full of new ideas, clear now for the first time. They spring to life in the mind, fully formed, not like before when the flat dead print on flat dead pages laid there, lifeless and unmoving.

 

If ideas spring to life, then numbers and mathematics race to something supernatural, spiritual. There's a purity to equations and inequations, algebra and calculus. Why did it never mean anything before? Is it just the speed that makes the ideas, the numbers, thoughts, concepts exciting and sharp?

 

Even for a racing mind, so much to learn. Teachers are the ablest interpreters, even the bored ones who've almost forgotten when they had these feelings about learning. It is a shame and a waste that it took so many years to wake up to what they offered.

 

Who knew homework -- even homework done entirely in the head -- would be a joy?

 

The job search was not so much fun. The employment center was small help. They said they couldn't do anything about special health needs without a medical form filled out. There are not a lot of jobs that .. and that was when Scan saw it. The armoured SUV.

 

Four men with big guns, and a few smaller guns, and masks, racing down the street. The job counseling session was going nowhere, anyway. And it would be fun to fly again.

 

And the armoured SUV full of bank robbers chased by police cars -- there was good cause for Scan to touch that. It would feel good to touch something, even if it was just cold metal, or the spray of hot lead on the skin.

 

Flying toward the escaping vehicle took a few moments. And then time seemed to stop. There it was, a face so concentrated, it could not know how beautiful it was in that moment of thought and distraction. A wave. A glance... The SUV gunning its engines as it headed for a crosswalk and pedestrians who would never get out of the way in time..

 

The men in the armoured escape truck were bruised a bit, but their bones didn't break cleanly. Maybe it was their own armoured suits, or the padding of the truck, or just luck. They weren't really in any shape to win the fight after dropping into the middle of the police parking lot, and the doors and roof ripped away. Melting and bending their weapons, feeling the pricks of their bullets.. that made up for all the isolation, a little, of the past few days.

 

The police were easier to deal with this second time. They seemed less on edge, more ready to talk. Scan took the priest's advice, and apologized, expressed remorse, offered to try to work with them more going forward. They were even, it seemed, understanding. They didn't offer new information, but that may not be their way.

 

It was all about understanding. Which is why Scan spoke to the beautiful reporter. The interview was awkward, like writing this journal. So much to remember from the book, from the priest's advice and the missal and lessons, and diction and grammar. It was not easy, but the reporter was gentle, and led well.

 

Flying away from the interview was like walking on air.

 

And then, in the dark, the devil.

 

It came as if from nowhere, appearing where a moment before even to Scan there had been nothing. It was claws and fangs of dark energy and spitting acid and breathing fire and venom on its hooked tusks, and barbed horns, and wings like a bat. It attacked and cackled, and was confusing. It hurt so much. It bit so deep.

 

Lashing out with fists, kicking, a flurry of coloured lights, before darkness, and the fall.

 

The icy cold. How long at the bottom of that frigid lake, there is no telling. There was no sign of the devil, except the deep wounds it left, bleeding into the water. The burning, bubbling poison seeped out into the cleansing cold of the lake. Where the venom spread, plants blackened and died.

 

Waking up, seeing that, the flash of colour burned, fingers of flame reaching through the water to boil away the venom. As it burned, it seemed to scream. Can poison scream? Who knows the powers of the devil?

 

The wound, even cleaned out, was still deep. The coloured lights made a bandage, but now.. now the words of the interview seemed mockery. How can strength defend against evil like this? Was it driven off, or had it thought it had succeeded?

 

And the shame of it was, there on the lake bottom, holding torn flesh, bent double in pain, that was how Scan passed the night. Hiding, alone and afraid.

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

There's smoke, and Shaman's voice.

 

What's he saying? Can't make it out. But it's in the smoke, the watery smoke.

 

And then Shaman's words. "Give me your hand. I need it."

 

Looking down, there's Shaman's hand, right there. That's not right. That should be at the end of Shaman's arm.

 

And Shaman's arm has it, the right hand, glowing with blue and red and white through the smoke, floating away on the end of Shaman's arm. "Stop worrying, I only need to borrow it. Finish what you started."

 

AUUUGH! The devil! The devil's there!

 

It looks huge, and ugly, and wrong. On one side of its head a horn dangles, broken clean through except for a stubborn bit holding the shattered thing there. The devil's face looks lopsided, swollen, and cracked, a deep bowl the shape of a fist there on the side near the ear, below that horn. Exactly the shape of a fist.

 

Right down to the shape of fingers, matching the fingers of the hand that extends young and strong from the end of Shaman's old and frail wrist. "Just need to," Shaman's voice says, through the smoke, "hhhhnnn... finish what you started." Shaman gives a mighty heave, and the horn comes off. The devil doesn't move.

 

Is he dead?

 

Shaman barks, laughing, waving the hand that isn't his. "Boy, you strong, now! But you not strong enough to kill the White Devil with one punch, nohow. Not permanent."

 

He stoops to pick up the horn in his own left hand, becoming clearer through the smoke. It's like a cage of smoke, it seems.

 

What are you doing?

 

Shaman lifts the horn, and answers.. (was that even said aloud?) "Stealing the devil's magic. It broke the rules. Your hand brung it down. It's dead, for now, and weak. Won't last. Can't kill them permanent. But it's been a long time since Shaman had this much magic. It's due payment, for breaking the rules." Shaman hit the devil with a willow javelin, springy and tough. Both his hands were his own again.

 

"See, your hand is back, just like it always was." Looking down, and it was.

 

Something was wrong.

 

Shaman spoke. "This devil, it is strong. Full of magic. But it broke the rules. Now it must pay, and now you are full of its piss. That can't be nice. But don't worry. You're young. You'll heal. You'll forget. But the devil.. devil won't ever heal from where you hit it, all full of the White Father's blessings on your skin and clean in your heart, and strong. It won't ever heal that. It won't forget. You've got an enemy forever, now. Of course, you won't be afraid of it once the piss is gone, and it will always be afraid of you. Afraid of you, and hate you, too. Forever."

 

"You had so much of the White Father's magic on you, devil got confused. And you hit it before its piss could kill you, Stonebird. But its piss is strong. Running in your veins. You lucky Lake held you to her bosom, sucked out the devil piss. You owe her, she saved your life, Stonebird. But you aren't saved all the way, yet."

 

Looking down, the black lines where belly should be, the source of the smoke. The smoke that made the cage. "Listen good, Stonebird. You will remember nothing when you wake up, except these two things. You must find the White Father for him to take the devil's piss out of you. That is first. Second, you must thank the Lake with rice and beer, since She is your mother now."

 

There's darkness, like a dream fading as wakefulness comes.

 

Pain. Remembering where and what. So much pain. Gotta get to.. to.. where? What was I dreaming? Not important. Hurt so bad. Need doctor.

 

No. No. The priest.

 

It hurt so bad to move, but the priest knew what to do, somehow. He'd been a priest in a far-off place, where people got hurt like this. It would be hard to explain to a doctor, but the priest seemed to know how to dress the wounds, though he muttered strange prayers and why did wound dressing need incense?

 

The water the priest poured on the wounds burned and burned, and the black smoke in the wounds boiled and sizzled and screamed, but was gone. The pain went away, soon, too. The priest said to make an act of contrition, and prayed the rosary. He said to rest and pray, and stay in the light.

 

Couldn't eat. Couldn't drink. Don't know what strange appetites were brewing, but they went away as soon as the lake came into view. Ended up dumping the steamed rice for fish and ducks to eat, and poured out the beer. Don't even remember getting beer.

 

Missing school -- would have to make up for that. So sick. Praying seemed to help. What did that monster do? Where was it now? Would it come back?

[Comic]

Re: [Character] New, Overpowered, Untrained, Aiming Deficient...

 

The Journal of Scan

 

DAY 6

 

Scan awoke on the lake bottom, in pain and injured. Something black oozed from the wounds, and there was a dream that escaped in the moments of waking that seemed so important for a moment it even blotted out the terror.

 

The priest treated the injuries -- claws raked deep across the belly -- with prayer, incense, clean white cloth and water.

 

Why did the water the priest used burn and make the black fluid boil so, when the water of the lake hadn't quenched that terrible dark acid? Why did the black liquid scream in agony as it dissolved? Was it Scan's delirium, or something else, something real?

 

The priest made Scan pray, had to force the mouth sometimes to use the words, where the poisoned blood refused, clotted tongue, clenched teeth and paralysed lips as if waging war against the sacred on even that small level. The priest wept. A tear touched the locked lip and the deviltry recoiled, like a tear would win the war when all Scan's strength would not.

 

Whatever the sickness was, the treatment worked. The blackness faded, and the wounds finally began to close. Bound in white cloth, wrapped and stiff and faint, Scan was sent out by the priest, who seemed to have aged fifty years in two hours, with the instructions, "Go, stay in the light, and pray."

 

A meal that wasn't touched, a visit to the side of the waters where the night was spent, where the light did help. As the sun rose high in the sky, the weakness lifted more and more.

 

School. Visiting the school. The vice principal took one look at the feeb's clamy, pale, sunken-eyed state -- again, the feeb was sick, so what else was new? -- and signed the latest absence form.

 

The job search took a new turn, as it was Scan seeking now. Surely a demolitions company would want a man who could bend steel and break concrete at the least touch?

 

Union rules balked that, and the low price of dynamite, and complicated questions Scan could not answer about mechanics and stress points and such that would mean a building would fall inwards safely and not topple dangerously.

 

The bosses were kind, but said no. They suggested salvage, and wished Scan luck.

 

The first try at the journal, with a wooden pencil, was a fiasco. (Build a Better Vocabulary in 30 Days is helping.) The pencils shattered and crumbled every few letters.

 

On the way to the salvage dock, while walking through the industrial area, another SUV like the one from the bank passed, and pulled into an auto-wrecking yard.

 

Following on foot, and not in costume -- can a shell of coloured lights be a costume? -- was a mistake. The man who worked at the yard was already being beaten, and for nothing, in the time it took to walk through the yard.

 

The men were in green armoured uniforms. They weren't using guns, not like the others. These were something from science fiction. If they began shooting with those things, the man and the little girl still hiding undiscovered, would certainly be caught in the line of fire.

 

Taking the beating from the victim, taunting the criminals and luring them into a dead end, was surprisingly easy. The men were so full of anger, cruelty, malice and confidence in their power, they were easy to lead. They didn't know how powerless they really were. Shifting a stack of compacted cars penned them in, and they could do nothing but try to climb out clumsily until the police arrived.

 

After comforting the man, and the girl, it was nothing to pick up a few chunks of scrap and toss them over the wall of cars to convince the climbers to stay low, until the authorities arrived. Tired of spending so much time giving statements, with witnesses there already and the evidence plentiful, and mostly worried that as night came the devil would return and endanger whoever was close, there was no question of waiting for the police.

 

The devil never came that night.

 

The book was right, however.

 

On re-reading the journal, on thinking over Scan's conduct, it is clear there is room for becoming a better hero.