BoloOfEarth

This is Parker Palmer, better known as The Red Recluse. His suit is able to increase his strength, agility, and allows him to leap rather far and to cling to surfaces. His most dangerous weapon is, of course, his gun. Not only can it shoot sticky "webbing", but also dangerous "vemon" acid capsules, and even capsules of spider vemon.
 
The Red Recluse loves to operate by himself (taking his crime name rather seriously). He is for hier, and also does solo jobs.

So much wrong with this I don't even know where to begin.
And I say that as one who has a conservative bent when it comes to illegal immigration. Pardon, it used to be conservative- now, because I don't like the idea of tearing families apart and placing kids in concentration camps I'm apparently a hippie or what not.
Folks should come through the doors our country provides, but those doors? They need to be OPEN and ready to receive. We have a moral and ethical obligation to help those coming here seeking freedom and democracy, who cannot achieve it where they come from. As soon as they say the Oath, they're as American as any one who has some great great someone or another that stepped off the Mayflower. And there's a good chance they can answer more questions about our Congress to boot. THEY had to take a test.
 
I know some others will disagree, but the way I see it...
 
You become an American, everything good about the United States of America becomes yours to take pride in. That's right, if you're born in Ethiopia or Thailand or wherever, come over here, earn your citizenship you get to be proud of the moon landing? WHY? Because you have just as much right to be as any other American of this generation and we should treasure what's best in us, cultivate it, and yes damn it be a bit proud. It's like cheering your home team when it's not YOUR ass making a touch down, you still cheer. On the flipside, while you don't have to take the blame for every bad thing America or Americans did- You do gain a sacred responsibility to keep those dark days from happening again. Trying to live up what is best in our country, fighting hard to fix the worst and keep old evils from rising again is the duty of anyone who claims to love their country. Waving the flag is cheap, making it worth waving is what matters.
 
There are going to be a lot of disagreements on what it will take to embrace the best, deny the worst.  We're not all going to agree. Welcome to a Democratic Republic! 
We all love the rags to riches story. We all love the idea of folks coming with nothing and through hard work and sweat making it big. But to me that is not the American Dream. It is the FREEDOM to chase your dreams that is what matters. Some want wealth, some want safety for their family, some want the chance to do something they love. A few want to help their fellow man. You have the chance! But thanks to racist bullcrap like Trump and his goons are trying to enact into policy multitudes wont' even get the CHANCE to prove themselves legally? We won't even offer a hand to them as they come in?  To assume that because of WHERE they came from, what they own, and not who they are, that they cannot be worthy of freedom? That we can't let them have legal means to join us?
 
That is racist, regionalist,  hateful, and let's just admit it, a betrayal on a moral and ethical level so profound that it is treasonous to the American soul.
 
I'm so pissed right now I could shove a flag pole up some bigot's ass!
 
"In God We Trust" is our current motto, but your actions determine who you are giving worship to. Right now? Trump is the high priest of fear and greed, and I didn't sign up to kiss the asses of either Phobos OR Mammon.
It sickens and disgusts me that so many of my fellow citizens are gladly puckering up.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Mechanon, the Engineer and any tech orientated villain could do with an upgrade.
 
Thank you.
 
I'm here all week.
 
Try the fish.

///A.T.L.A.S Intelligence Document Clearance Level Amber///
 
RE: Transcript Of Conversation Between Subjects Tanner And Patel
 
ACTIONS:
 
1.  Transfer of Subject Tanner to Ice Box facility is disapproved.  Director One, however, believes Subject Tanner may be "susceptible."  Blue-Level surveillance of Subject is authorized along with a thorough examination of his financial                           transactions.  Further actions may be necessary upon completion of investigation.
2.  Appointment of Subject Patel to project head is approved, along with a 7.3 percent increase in salary and an invitation to "Steak Night" in the executive dining room.
3.  The wings stay.  Director One likes the wings.  Director One requests the Creative Department to develop some concept designs for chest emblems.  Two dozen should be sufficient to start.  Deadline is Thursday.
4.  Subjects archer and death tribble will have their Reward Room privileges suspended until further notice due to extreme facetiousness.  ("Captain Flashpants?"  Really?)
5.  Authorization of Subject Quackhell to post the next image is approved, along with restoration of ice cream privileges in the employee commissary.
 
///A.T.L.A.S Intelligence Document Clearance Level Amber///

I always like the idea of Larry Niven's Gil Hamilton - he lost his arm, but he has a psychic "phantom arm" that he can use - basically, very short-range TK, able to reach through walls and windows, feel and move things, etc.  Not terribly powerful, but nonetheless fairly useful.  Wonder what you could do with other handicaps resulting in powers?
 
Oh, and consider this idea borrowed for my next Champions campaign, which I think is going to be a normal world where individuals suddenly start getting superpowers. 
 
So, as to character ideas:
 
Bob "Bunny-Boy" Benson, whose legs are disproportionately powerful.  He can leap great distances, and has a pretty amazing (double-knockback) "rabbit kick".  But don't tease him - he loses his cool pretty quickly.  I guess you could say he has a "hare trigger."  Tee, hee, hee!  I slay me!
 
Police psychologist Tina Murrow calls herself "POV" due to her ability to put herself into the mind (literally) of most anybody.  (She can only affect people without any innate mental defenses.)  She can see, hear, feel, and otherwise experience everything her target senses, and gets general impressions of her target's state of mind (empathy, not direct thoughts).  She can't project her own sensory data to the target, nor alter her target's state of mind -- it's strictly a one-way street. But it's helped her incredibly in dealing with hostage situations.  Some less friendly people refer to her as "Peeper" or "Peeping Tina."
 
Tabloid reporter "Parabolic" Mike Mahoney has incredible hearing, including through walls.  (Telescopic on Hearing Group with Penetrative.)  He's skilled enough that, given time, he can filter through overlapping conversations in one room to hear something going on in a room beyond it.  (Call this Clairsentience - Hearing Group with Mobile Perception Point, requiring Extra Time.)  If he's anywhere around, you better watch what you say, or it's bound to wind up printed in the National Enquirer.
 
Phil "Folder" Wright has the unusual ability to fold anything in half repeatedly without causing it harm, and then unfold it later.  Yes, anything - paper, wood, steel, cars, willing people ...  he can fold anything.  (While folded, the thing / being becomes instantly flat, about the thickness of a business card.  Repeated folds do not increast this thickness.)  Note that whatever he folds still retains its same mass, so while he can fold up his pickup truck until it's the size of a mini Post-It, he can't carry it around in his pocket.  And people he's folded and then unfolded reported that it was like they were floating in limbo while they were folded up.  (I'd actually call this Extra-Dimensional Movement to a pocket dimension, Usable on Others.)

Gotham Professional Building.  Clean roof, good edging for hanging thugs over to threaten them, but noisy HVAC unit made me have to repeat threats.  3/5.

Gotham Professional Building.  Clean roof, good edging for hanging thugs over to threaten them, but noisy HVAC unit made me have to repeat threats.  3/5.

To the point that Weird Al parodied him with "(This Song's Just) Six Words Long."

Batman does not Yelp. He grimaces and takes the pain stoically.

I always like the idea of Larry Niven's Gil Hamilton - he lost his arm, but he has a psychic "phantom arm" that he can use - basically, very short-range TK, able to reach through walls and windows, feel and move things, etc.  Not terribly powerful, but nonetheless fairly useful.  Wonder what you could do with other handicaps resulting in powers?
 
Oh, and consider this idea borrowed for my next Champions campaign, which I think is going to be a normal world where individuals suddenly start getting superpowers. 
 
So, as to character ideas:
 
Bob "Bunny-Boy" Benson, whose legs are disproportionately powerful.  He can leap great distances, and has a pretty amazing (double-knockback) "rabbit kick".  But don't tease him - he loses his cool pretty quickly.  I guess you could say he has a "hare trigger."  Tee, hee, hee!  I slay me!
 
Police psychologist Tina Murrow calls herself "POV" due to her ability to put herself into the mind (literally) of most anybody.  (She can only affect people without any innate mental defenses.)  She can see, hear, feel, and otherwise experience everything her target senses, and gets general impressions of her target's state of mind (empathy, not direct thoughts).  She can't project her own sensory data to the target, nor alter her target's state of mind -- it's strictly a one-way street. But it's helped her incredibly in dealing with hostage situations.  Some less friendly people refer to her as "Peeper" or "Peeping Tina."
 
Tabloid reporter "Parabolic" Mike Mahoney has incredible hearing, including through walls.  (Telescopic on Hearing Group with Penetrative.)  He's skilled enough that, given time, he can filter through overlapping conversations in one room to hear something going on in a room beyond it.  (Call this Clairsentience - Hearing Group with Mobile Perception Point, requiring Extra Time.)  If he's anywhere around, you better watch what you say, or it's bound to wind up printed in the National Enquirer.
 
Phil "Folder" Wright has the unusual ability to fold anything in half repeatedly without causing it harm, and then unfold it later.  Yes, anything - paper, wood, steel, cars, willing people ...  he can fold anything.  (While folded, the thing / being becomes instantly flat, about the thickness of a business card.  Repeated folds do not increast this thickness.)  Note that whatever he folds still retains its same mass, so while he can fold up his pickup truck until it's the size of a mini Post-It, he can't carry it around in his pocket.  And people he's folded and then unfolded reported that it was like they were floating in limbo while they were folded up.  (I'd actually call this Extra-Dimensional Movement to a pocket dimension, Usable on Others.)

My supers universe is filled with these:
 
Characters (NPCs) with a power or two who are _not_ "super heroes" or "super villains," but just people.
 
Honestly, I _had_ to do it.  I mean, i introduced it as a minor, once-in-a-while background gag, just to test the waters, but I was surprised at the reaction of the players: it just made so much sense to them!  I was shocked.  Like me, they figured for every one guy who got ten different powers, there were probably three or four who got one or two powers.  For every person who go some awesome movement or combat or clairvoyance power, there were likely a few who got "see in the dark, period."
 
I have no idea whatsoever how to write them up in 6e in a way that won't result in nine different discussions about what I did right or wrong, so let me just give you the basic idea of two of the still-present (and strangely popular) of these characters:
 
Steven "The Step" Stephenson (real name Jordan Piper) has the singular ability to survive a fall from any height.   That's it.  Even if he lands at terminal velocity and falls flat onto a field of high-density concrete, he'll be fine.  This does _not_ mean he can survive being hit by a car doing 50.  His amazing invulnerability only applies to falls.  He currently supports himself as a highly-demanded stuntman in the movie industry.
 
 
Danica Manning (real name Danica Manning):  Duplication.  She has become so used to being twelve people that it's rare to find her fully combined.  Currently, she supports herself as six lab assistants (mostly in the "super science" type fields), attends college where she is currently working on four different degrees (three duplicates) to go with the ones she already has. She is also dating a couple of guys, and is living a life of absolute leisure, doing whatever strikes her fancy.  When she needs to rest, the more worried, frazzled, or tired duplicates will merge for a few days with the "permanent vacation" duplicate, re-align themselves psychically, intellectually, and spiritually, and then go back to work.  Though sometimes it's not always the same one going back to the same place (nor does it really matter, so long as she has recently combined with the appropriate one).  This neat trick has given her an undeserved reputation for infinite patience.     She respects those with powers who decide to put on costumes and put their lives on the line, but in equal measure she finds the entire idea unbelievably stupid.
 
As she is does not age unless all of her is combined into one form, she expects to enjoy a long working life (with eleven retirement plans!    ), she's pretty confident that she's working toward a very, _very_ comfortable "middle age" that she plans to extend for as long as possible.
 
She's slightly sarcastic, (very slightly), almost monotone when at work, and -- well, she's not exactly anti-social; it's just that sometimes she is more company than she cares to have.    She can be bribed with a small sack of chocolate-covered mayonnaise balls from Truck's Tacos.
 
 
 
There are many, _many_ more, but for some reason, with every supers group I run, those two keep coming up as fan favorites.

Travelin Dan, LS: No need to eat, No need to Sleep Dan just likes to travel, he has no home, but being homeless is little bother. And when he need to get some cash he can work several jobs part time for several weeks then go back to traveling...

While I can't stand any Prince song (to be honest, it's the singer that I don't like) I reserve special hatred for "Raspberry Beret."  But then again, that song was played repeatedly for weeks by my upstairs neighbor.  Often at 2 am.  And always on the Hammond organ. 
 
Some songs are okay (or at least tolerable) on the Hammond organ.  "Raspberry Beret" ain't one of them.

///A.T.L.A.S Intelligence Document Clearance Level Amber///
 
The following is a transcript of a conversation between Arnold Tanner and Dr. Krista Patel of Project: Blue Boy. Location: Arizona facility designated The Mesa. Lunchroom. Date and time: Friday July 12th at 1246.
 
Patel: "So what is it you don't like about the suit?"
 
Tanner: "Where do I even begin?"

Patel: "Never mind I don't..."
 
Tanner: "The mask, why in the world did we bother with a micro fiber ultramanium mesh armor if they are going to leave mouth and eyes exposed! Any dime store hood could put him down with a half way decent shot."
 
Patel: "Dime store hood? What are you Mickey Spillane? Besides you have to let the public see his face. Look at that heroic chin and those piercing eyes. I mean why do you think that got an actor to be in the suit in the first place. It's all about image and he looks damn good in the suit."
 
Tanner: "Oh great so that's all that matters. He goes up against somebody like Omega Black and he'll be a good looking corpse."
 
Patel: "Well if it's Omega Black it will be more like a charred corpse. I mean...closed casket for sure."
 
Tanner: "Not. The. Point. I mean this is what happens those idiots in marketing make decisions. Like those stupid little wings? They don't even do anything."
 
Patel: "It's, ya know, a classic design. It's a homage."
 
Tanner: "It's a rip-off by unimaginative hacks. This whole project is a joke. How about the name. The Victorion. Sounds like he should be wearing a monocle and drinking tea and crumpets."
 
Patel: "I mean it's not great but it's supposed to invoke the idea of victory. Plus, all the good names are taken."
 
Tanner: "Now you take this tech, the internalized power source, strength and reflex augmenting exoskeleton, the maser array gauntlets, the solid light shield..."
 
Patel: "The shield is glitchy."
 
Tanner: "Not. The. Point. If you take that tech to M.A.L.I.C.E they make a serious weapon and we would get compensated a whole lot better. I gotta tell ya all the money being pumped into this project sure isn't trickling down to the ones who made the damn thing. Patriotism doesn't pay the rent."
 
Patel: "Nice rant. Listen you work for M.A.L.I.C.E and you end up in jail or in a shallow grave. So you have you super-villain fantasies and enjoy the rest of that egg salad, I am heading back to the lab."
 
Tanner: "I'm just saying is all............stupid little wings."
 
End Transcript
 
Recommended Action: Transfer Tanner to Greenland facility designation The Ice Box. Promote Patel to project head. Oh and maybe lose the wings.
 
///A.T.L.A.S Intelligence Document Clearance Level Amber///

(At this rate, the trilogy will be done by 2030)
 

At this point, I suppose anyone who would know me would know the routine. I had cleverly timed my passing out and needing to heal in immersion so that my team mates were stuck doing a lot of the clean up with the city. I'd like to say I woke up pretty quickly, but exhaustion as much as injury had taken a hell of a toll.

I slept for roughly two days.

Mind you,  I had suspicions that someone might have put me on a wee bit more sedative than was needful, but I can't prove it, and I didn't have that cottonball taste in my mouth to confirm. I ran a mental list of the possible suspects. My girlfriend had the lead, but Mabel sure wasn't far behind. Neither for that matter was 'the boss lady'; Lady Obsidian had been making snarky remarks about young people just making her tired.
 
Of course, Ariana had gotten into the habit of waking me with a kiss now and then, and that? That really made it hard to hold a grudge against anyone. Not that I didn't at least whine about it.
 
"Two days?" I said as she started to fill me in, "Wait, I missed the news reports on this one. You guys already threw the popcorn at the screen and everything." Okay, maybe I over did the pout, because she rolled her eyes.

"After all the scares you've given me? You don't deserve popcorn, but to fill you in, Channel 3 still hates us. We rounded up the fumian enhanced convicts and... a few have not reacted to the changes, a few reverted after a few hours. Only one guy got away..."

"Tell me it was the one who did good?" I said, not that that was an indicator that a former gang member would go full blown hero or anything.

"It was," Ariana's expression looked a bit worried. Probably our friend Buzz or whatever he'd call himself got the minimal help he needed before making his exit, "We knew who he was and I can get you the file but to be honest I was so worried about you? I don't remember the name."
 
"Dawwww," I said with a pleased smile.

"Jackass," but she said it affectionately, "From now on, how about you start fights with me by your side instead of waiting for me to come save your ass in the last moment?"
 
"I'll think about it. There might just be a reason the fights end sooner when you're saving my butt," I conceded, then added, "Thanks by the way."
 
"You're welcome, though, actually, Caleb, you were," she ran fingers over my chest looking up into my eyes, "You were amazing."

"I was a hero with prep time and goodies provided by other heroes," I pointed out, "Kept me alive."

"You did better than just live and you know it," She said suddenly defending me from my own modesty, "Where's the cocky guy who did a needless yet impressive three point landing out of the pool just to show off?"

"Well, he's gotten his ass kicked and nearly put into a coma himself more than once, that can humble a man," I said then smiled, "But you know if you want me to mix the third person talk and arrogance I can."

I cleared my throat, "Eel is not as other men. Eel is one with the water and the wave. Eel has the strength of a hundred pickups, and the swimming powers of a hundred speedboats. Many have tried to conquer Eel, but it avails the many not."

From seemingly out of nowhere, a snowball smacked into the side of my head and then rain down my cheek.

"I'm sorry," Said Arctic Fox from the room's entry way, "Third person speech triggers me. I suffer from Moronic Monologue Intolerance Syndrome," then she looked at Ariana, "Filling him in?"

"I was just about to assure him we created a cover story for his room mate regarding his absence," She said, "But Aaron seemed amazingly nonchalant about it."

"That's why he's a great room  mate," I admitted.

"He did mention you had some important mail," She raised a brow, curious and surprised.

I was surprised too, and it might have showed. Barring letters from my family and the occasional bank statement, I don't get much in the way of snail mail. Not that I use that term where the fine folks of the US postal department can hear me. As one recently saved my ass, however 'odd' he seemed to be, I figure I owe them that much.

Then it hit me, "Oh, the college application. Hope I made it."

"You applied to college?" Ariana's eyes lit up with an emotion I couldn't quite place.

I shrugged, "Costa Sagrado University isn't Ivy league or anything, but it's got a solid engineering department. I thought I might pursue an interest, see if I had the knack for it. Make something of my life. Who knows? Caleb Lambert, Civil Engineer, has a nice ring to it."

And it did. In a world with tidal waves, earthquakes, and building fires? A good superhero could save dozens if he was lucky. A civil engineer? One who made buildings for a modern age meant to hold against nature's worse and give people a fighting chance to survive? He could save hundreds, maybe thousands. Caleb Lambert might get less credit for it than Eel did, but it's not really the glory I do it for is it? I want to help people, and it was, after several not so subtle hard knocks from others in my life, finally sinking in that I could do that as well as if not better in my secret Identity as I could in my heroic one.

"It sounds wonderful and I know you can do it," my girlfriend was in my corner on this with an intensity that confirmed a few things  Arctic Fox had told me. I hadn't done it just for that reason, but yeah, felt good to see her looking so proud of Caleb and not just Eel, "Did you take advantage of financial and academic help from Pinprick and Lady O?"
 
I faux snorted, "I'm my own man, like to stand on my own two feet."

Ariana's expression again shifted, this time to that 'oh god, I'm in love with an idiot' look women can't always hide.

I let the other shoe drop, "But then I saw what a student loan would do to me, and I swallowed my pride and sucked down a huge bowl of charity. UNfortunately, Pinprick insists on calling it the Redneck Renovation Scholarship fund so I'm gonna have to live with THAT over my..."
A truly ardent kiss makes it very hard to talk. If one is blessed in life, one learns this little factoid as he grows up. I was certainly experiencing it now. Ariana had rewarded me with a truly dynamite liplock that threatened to take my breath away.
At the risk of hurting her feelings, I whispered in her ear, "I love you so much but I have to tell you I didn't do this for you. I'm sorry..."

She put a finger against my lips, "Do not apologize. Ever, for going off and making yourself the man I see in you every day." Then she raised her own voice beyond a whisper, "Maybe I'll do something special for you for every A you make?"
Well, if she was trying to appeal to my sense of enlightened self interest it was working.

"Yeah?" I grinned.

"Yeah," She smiled.

"Ugh," Arctic Fox said.

Ariana and I both blushed a bit. We kind of forgot she was here.

"Don't worry about it," the queen of cold said before we could apologize, or even decide whether an apology was called for, "I think it's great. But you might want to make sure you got accepted before you start celebrating."

"Oh Geez!" Well, that certainly was cold water on the whole thing, "Okay yeah. I gotta go."

"Lady Obsidian wants you to report before you leave," Arctic Fox said, "Main area."

"Right, right" I said. I didn't realize it, but Ariana's hand had claimed mine, or maybe it was the other way around, so when I begin to move towards the monitor room, she came along. Not that she complained.

We were both baffled at the weird curtain of smoke hued force blocking most of the main entry area. Lady Obsidian's work, obviously. I couldn't see what was going on. I braced myself and prepared for a fight just in case I'd only woken up to find another more local invasion.

"Everything okay?" I called out.

I could feel Valorosa's hand gain firmness as she shifted her density as a precaution.

And then the barrier vanished, no longer blurring our vision.

"SURPRISE! " A burst of voices said all at once. One of them Mabel on a speaker, another behind me from Arctic Fox. Well, it was pretty much the whole team, except Ariana who looked as taken off guard as I was.
Every screen in the monitor room, large and small, was displaying my acceptance letter from Costa Sagrado University with full scholarship no less. The team, in  mix of costumes and street clothes, were also outfited in party hats, with twirlers and blowouts, and yes, confetti, which was falling down on us all now- mostly me. They also had drinks, of course.

A large banner had been put above the monitors that said "Congratulations, Caleb-Future Graduate!"

"About time you got here," Pinprick called out, "What the heck took you so long, Fox?"

"I got them here, didn't I?" She said back.

I turned to Ariana, "You didn't know about this?"

"No" She laughed, and shook her head.

"That was my suggestion," Tornado grinned, "Figured why not surprise my favorite niece while we were at it."

"Hope you both don't mind," Lady Obsidian said so kindly that, honestly, we would have felt like jerks if we said we DID mind. Which might have been the point. Team leaders and old women can both be tricky. Meaning Lady Obsidian had a double dose.

"It's wonderful," And Ariana gave her Uncle a side hug.

"I think it's great to..." another aspect of this whole thing sunk in, "Wait, you opened my mail?"

"Like sneaking into your place is hard for any one of us," Pinprick snorted.

"You know how hard I worked to light this fire under you?" Lady Obsidian said, "Darn straight we opened it."

"I have to tell you guys, that's a federal crime," I opened a beer can, "I'm going to have to take you all in." I smiled as I said it, of course.

"You and what army?" Pinprick demanded.

I grinned and held up my beer can in a toast to them all, "I don't need an army, you see, I have this great team..."
(The End)
 

I totally want to be a contestant on So You Want To Be A Superhero. 
 
The O'Malleys were driving through Nevada on their way to California for Jim O'Malley's mother's funeral, when their car suddenly died.  Then, the doors all locked and the radio began flipping between stations, playing just a word or phrase at a time.  "You... will not... be... harmed... you... will... listen... you... will... decide..."  Then, a bright light shone on the road in front of them, and to their surprise Nana O'Malley was standing there, carrying a large parcel and a small picnic basket.
 
As she walked up to the car, Jim's window lowered an inch.  Nana O'Malley smiled.  "Jimmy, so nice to see you.  And my, how you kids have grown!  What are you, now, Tim, thirteen?  What a handsome young man you are!  I'm sorry I missed your high school graduation last month, Jenny, but I just couldn't travel."  Almost as an afterthought, she added, "Heather, you're looking good."
 
"Mom," said Jim, "what are you... I thought..." 
 
"Yes, I'm dead," she said.  "My own darn fault for smoking all those years.  But these nice alien folks came down and picked me up, said they're going to take me to a better place.  Before we go, though, I need to give you these."  She nodded at the parcel.  "They're suits, with incredible powers.  You need to use them to save the world.  There's going to be a big war if you don't find a way to stop it. I'm not sure how, but the suits will help.  I'll just put these in the trunk." She turned toward the back of the car, then stopped and waved the picnic basket.  "Oh, and I made some cookies for your trip.  I know how much you all like my snickerdoodles.  Heather, I put the recipe inside the basket, not that I expect you to use it.  But maybe Jenny might try it someday."
 
After she placed the parcel and basket in the trunk (which had seemingly opened of its own accord), she walked back to Jim's window.  "Now, you be the brave, strong man I know you to be, Jimmy.  And you kids, listen to your parents and do good.  I'm sure I'm going to be so proud of you."  Another pause.  "Heather, I suppose you'll do as well."  She walked away, ignoring Jim's pleas for her to stop and the family's failed attempts to unlock and open the car doors.  When she got to the center of the beam of light, Nana O'Malley turned back, smiled and waved... and disappeared. 
 
And thus was born The Omicron Family, aka the Greatest American Family.  Thankfully, they didn't lose the instruction manuals. (Well, Timmy misplaced his, but it helped having three other copies.) Using the suits, they managed to stop a rogue Air Force general from starting World War III, and went on to do many amazing things. 

He's the best candle dribbler the Unseen University ever had on the payroll.

Night at the Museum (2006).  Tomatometer 42%.  Not normally a Ben Stiller fan, but I enjoyed this movie.

That pun's so bad, it qualifies as attempted murder.

Night at the Museum (2006).  Tomatometer 42%.  Not normally a Ben Stiller fan, but I enjoyed this movie.

Night at the Museum (2006).  Tomatometer 42%.  Not normally a Ben Stiller fan, but I enjoyed this movie.

My personal thought as to using something other than Darkness with a Limitation is that there's no mechanic there to specify the penalty to the PER relative to the Limitation.  For example, should a -4 PER be a -1, or a -1/2 Limitation? 
 
Personally, if it was just the PER roll being modified, I'd suggest Images (kind of like an anti-Light effect) AoE.  But if you're also going to modify OCV / DCV, then yeah, I'd go with CE.

Depends on your players, really. Generally I offer a set of guidelines (you should have between X and Y disadvantage points) and let them build to what they want. If someone wants a number not divisible by 5, I still allow the old "quirks", which are up to 4 points of 1 point quirks (When battle approaches, always says "Smoke 'em if you got 'em", Likes to use puns in battle, etc.). I have some players who always max out points, I have others who just take what they see as core to the character and fit their points to that. I have other guidelines as well (you should have at least N spent in skills that represent your job, interests, knowledge) and try to work with players to understand how things will come up in the game and why I have the guidelines.
 
- E