Realistic or Modern Burnout Heroes (Character Sheets)

[Lordxana0]

Character Sheet

• Name:
• Age: (16-34)
• Appearance:
• Personality:
• Ability: (A characters ability is what makes them a hero, and can range from summoning allies and weapons to throwing around elemental fury.)
• Post-Burnout: (How the characters ability has been effected by their Burnout. Weaker summons, being able to only throw minor amounts of power. While their abilities might have been godlike before, they have now been reduced to something smaller. But Burnout effects everyone differently.)
• Backstory: (Most Heroes are recruited from the moment they and shown to have an ability. So describe a bit of home life but add in their time as a 'Hero' as well.)
• Burnout Incident: (What caused your character to Burnout? Stress of so many missions? A specific event that shocked them to their core? Maybe they don't even know why it happened. Be creative.)
• Specialty: (Without the catch all of a higher tier power this will be what your character focuses on most within the Burnout department. Essentially what your character would be most useful as. Medic, infiltration, front lines, etc.)
• Misc: (A catch all for anything not in the basic character sheet.)

 

[EccentricFantasy]

Name:
Sitri Ramos

Age:
22

Appearance:

Personality:
Sitri is a stern person and leader. There are many pther hero's who respect him as a makeshift commander of sorts. He is wise and knows much about the battle. He is confident in his abilities, but for good reason as he has never failed at a promise he has given. In his eyes, a person who cannot keep their promises has no right to help anyone. He is a free flowing type who doesn't care for what people call the sensible approach. He knows the world is irrational, do there needs to be irrational people who protect it. As such he has often been called on his crazed and impractical style of doing things.

Ability:
Sitri calls his ability 'Furnace'. Inside his heart is a single flame. This flame is his source of life and power. His body constantly leaks heat from this fire. However, Sitri is able to stop this leak and intensify the heat inside his body. His heat continues to rise until the heat is at his max temperature of 4000 degrees Fahrenheit. It does take at least 3 minutes to reach this level of heat. This has several benefits. The heat is so hot that most things don't touch him due to the sheer force of the heat coming off him. His body also errupts in flame that he can use sort of like a defensive cloak and he can throw the flames. He can also release the heat from inside him at certain points in his body. When he does this the released heat expands the air so fast it is like a focused, directional concussive blast. That hits with the force of a direct hit from a military grade cuncussion grenade. He can also release all the heat from his body at once. This results in a heat wave that is hot enough to melt metal and stone up to a half a mile radius around him. The bad part of doing that is it will take longer, up to 10 minutes, to reheat himself.

Post-Burnout:
After his Burnout Sitri's heat up times are the same, but his heat only gets up to about 2000 degrees. As a result of that, his defensive capabilities, attack power and overall effectiveness. He has begun suffering from hallucinations that claim to be the spirit of his fire. This hallucination is constantly telling him he doesn't deserve the power that was given to him. Not to mention his smoking addiction was more intense, going from a pack a day to about three a day.

Backstory:
Sitri was born in New York city. He had an average childhood, but even at a young age he had shown leader type qualities. His friends made him the de facto leader. They followed his lead and he was known as quite the kid. He had straight A's and was quite the athlete. The biggest issue his parents ever had with him was the fact that they didn't like that he was so grown for a kid his age. He was so level headed and had a clam, rational view of the world.

Sitri was a bit of an over achiever. Apparently even when getting his powers. At the age of ten the doctors noticed that his body temperature rose to a steady 145 degrees and showed no sign of sickness. It was after many scans they found the flame alive in his heart. Immediately the government was informed and he was taken to Tower of Babel.

Just like all other things, he took his training very seriously. His interest in science allowed him to better understand and study the effects of his heat. His lack of interest in english made reading through strategy books uninteresting. The trainers were all dumbfounded by the strides he made with his abilities. The way he used the science he studied to make his powers all the deadlier.

When he was 15 he was made a fully active hero. Time went on and each mission it was a success. He was a consistently great hero and quickly became recognized as the best fire using hero in the organization. He was strong, smart and was still the bane of his commanders existence. There was a simple confidence about him that came with good reason. He was good. At least until his Burnout.

After his Burnout he was transferred to the Rapid Response team. His smoking habit went up and the hallucinations started. It became a struggle just to walk through the day. He wanted his true power back. He wanted to do what he was best at, but for now he is fine being here. However, the raging fire demon in his head sucks.

Burnout Incident:
A particular fight with a particular Malevolent. This one was much stronger than the ones that the hero's were used to dealing with. Most of the other hero's were hurt, so Sitri took his position so everyone else could escape and get new hero's to help. Sitri held off this Malevolent one his own for 20 minutes before others could come in to help. After that his body was exhausted and his Burnout started. He just stayed too hot for too long.

Specialty:
Frontline fighter with a specialty in tank style finghting. He takes all the the focus and attacks to keep others safe.

Misc:
Ifrit is the name of the hallucination that claims to be the spirit of his heat. She is continually telling him his flame is meant to scorch the earth, not save it. She also feels the need to remind him that without her he is usless and he doesn't deserve the power she posses.

Spoiler: Ifrit Appearance

 

[Lordxana0]

Sitri Ramos welcome to the Rapid Response Division.

 

[EccentricFantasy]

Sitri Ramos welcome to the Rapid Response Division.

Pleasure to be here I guess. Wish it was under better circumstances.

 

[TARDIS06]

Name: Jason “Jay” Johnson

Age: 27

Spoiler: Appearance:

Generally clad in a black, worn tuxedo that hangs over his thin frame, Jason sports a range of red shades regarding his hair as well as tinted sunglasses that hide his cloudy green eyes from the harsh light of the world.

Spoiler: Personality:

Scatterbrained, Jason is a man full of questions and unintentionally sarcastic ideas, most of which are detours away from the numerous problems he doesn’t want to deal with. Though loud mouthed and usually arrogant, he always acts in a way he believes to be correct, however broken his ideals may be.

As much as he wants to be a proper hero, he always seems to make mistakes; it was chipping away at him back at the institution, now the doubt fills his heart and mind, even if he doesn’t always show it.

Spoiler: Ability:

Jason harbors the ability to morph his body into a dark colored smoke for a duration limited by his mental state. While the gas is nontoxic directly, the extensive dispersion of it, especially inside lungs, a vacuum, or an extremely large volume of space, is immensely painful for him. Normal properties of gasses apply to him in this state, as he is simply a cognitive hive mind of smoke that has the same mass of his own body; with no sense of sight or proper hearing, only being able to notice the waves of force that wash over him and easily being able to be overwhelmed by such thunderous input.

Spoiler: Post-Burnout:

Most of the local pubs learned him by name over the past year, both days and nights he spent wasted away from the Tower of Babel and all his problems. Alcohol did a funny thing to him, his senses always seemed to be lulled almost to a comfortable sleep, calming the harsh noises and light of the environment without nullifying everything in blackness.

That void; he hasn’t been able to venture into it in quite some time, only partially dipping one or two appendages into the blackness whenever he accidentally locked himself out of his apartment.

Spoiler: Backstory:

Born an only child, Jason’s initial family consisted of his two parents and a single stray cat that frequented the overflowing and dark dumpster that rested against the back wall of the apartment building they resided in for his first handful of months. While he never remembered much of the place outside of the black stained interior of their one room residence and the brick that always left soot on his fingers, the sagging faces of his parents filled in the blanks when he was older.

Jay had soon developed, something.

Dark patches had started growing in splotches over his ragged skin, and his breath was becoming visible even indoors. The sparse doctors the married couple could afford appointed the mold in their apartment as the problem, if only for the lack of a better explanation at the time. So, after a few weeks of emotional pressure like lead, they moved where their pockets allowed; trading one slum for another.

It’s here where Jayson grew up during his first few formative years, in that yellow apartment complex with fading floral wallpaper that chipped and reeked of metal. It’s here where he learned about shapes, and the inner workings of language. It’s here where he chose to read a book for the first time on his own accord. It’s here where his skin conditioned worsened, and where his father died of a heart attack.

The blur of his own life passed before Jay’s eyes during those following years, he was just hugging his father goodbye a moment ago, wasn’t he? Why was he now in front of this lady with a weird haircut while wearing clothes that were too itchy to be allowed to exist? Where had his mother gone, his father, even that one eyed guy that ran the chinese place down the street?

Why was he alone?

The room was barren, even the numerous beds were simply mattresses on rusted and thin wire frames. His skin itched. The once strawberry red hair that flapped in front of his eyes was turning dark as Jay hugged his knees close to his chest. His skin itched. His breath coming out in quick gasps, each new inhalation immediately preceding the previous; he couldn’t feel the cold tile that his bare feet were on top of, nor the white shirt that hung over his frail shoulders and shifted with each tremble that coursed through Jay’s body, nor his own hands that gripped at his thinning shins. His skin itched.

The clothes fell onto the floor with a hushed faintness.

Darkness, infinite darkness, spreading itself far and wide, encompassed Jason. His eyes weren’t closed, he couldn’t feel his eyelids, couldn’t feel anything that he was used to. The only thing that he could truly feel was a soft, almost rubber embrace that seemed to surround him; it was like thousands of tiny bouncy balls were hugging him. Then they moved, shifting like a thunderous wave that echoed into Jay’s being.

Not just into, but through.

What he could only assume as eternity, passed by like this, the quiet thunder rolling over him. There were patterns in the thunder, some were really short and quick, others seemed to dredge on in continuos bumps. He was getting tired. Light, food, sleep, was he ever going to experience these things again? Why did he have to be stuck like this? He tried yelling, tried seeing, tried pushing, through this wall of darkness; no vocal chords, no eyes, no arms. Though, amidst his attempts, something new made itself known; something curious, something blue, something like him.

A hand, sparkling like a diamond, reached out to Jason; and light followed.

The beeping of a machine, the smell of bleach, the taste of ash, it all made itself known to the young boy. There were walls around him that were as white as the light shinning down upon him. But there was something blocking what he thought was quite the spectacle, lots of somethings. It was then when he realized where the smell of bleach was coming from, and when he noticed the hand from the darkness. It was attached to another boy, he had black hair and was about his age if not slightly older, he wore a teal thing around his form just like the others surrounding Jay, yet his hand was gloved, the fingers hiding themselves behind the blue latex; a soft and generous smile was gently displayed on the boy’s visage.

Jason would later learn of the boy’s name, how the black haired peer saved him from himself, and how his new friend’s smile was as fantastical as the sun.

What he would later dub as the, ‘unwanted leap into the unknown,’ Jay spent his late teens at this white walled institution as he realized the nature of the deep void he had found himself thrust into; or more accurately, what he transformed into.

The Tower of Babel, at least that’s the name that he was told belonged to the mother agency that supplied and oversaw the institution he was at: the space where he evolved not only as a person, but as a hero. The black haired boy, Sam, had been born at the institution, and served as his peer mentor.

Sam showed him everything he could, how to ask the right questions to get the best food at the cafeteria, how to avoid most of the security guards; they spent years together amongst about a hundred others as they survived this life they led for as long as they could.

Eleven years he spent in his new home, manipulating the blackness he ventured into, all in an effort to go up against simulated malevolents, toiling day after day to conquer his fear of the unknown. He never really knew what he turned into when the dark enveloped him, video clips of a gas drifting through the metal arena never really settled down with him, the connection never really hit until he was on his first mission.

So much thunder, so many waves conglomerating into a cacophony that shook Jason to his core. It was then when he underestood what the bouncy balls were, what the thunder was:

Air.

Moving.

He was lucky Sam reached out to him back then, he wasn’t scared anymore. Not of the void, not of the atmosphere that threatened to disperse his entire being, not of the malevolent before him and Sam, not of his future, nothing.

Though it was then, when he finally believed in himself, in his own abilities as a hero, as someone to give others that smile Sam had shone him all those years ago; it was that moment when he lost everything and everyone he cared for.


Sam.

Sam.

Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam.


There was blood on Jason’s face, the thunder had stopped, and a scream was coming from somewhere. It wasn’t the malevolent that had been slain. It wasn’t the onlookers who were standing by the broken buildings. It definitely wasn’t the officers who were forcing him up from his knees. Was it himself? Was the burning sensation in his throat from the screaming noise? Was the throbbing in his head from the screaming noise? Was the needle like pain in his arm from the screaming noise?

Why wasn’t Sam screaming?

Why wasn’t Sam moving?

Why wasn’t his friend smiling?

Spoiler: Speciality:

Being a relatively intangible gas for a few moments is usually invaluable during a fight, as well as getting into places where he shouldn’t; however that was at his peak. Though still useful, the thought of putting more than part of his arm or leg into the inky blackness truly terrifies him.

Spoiler: Misc:

 

[Sybil]

Name
Lave “The Beacon of Hope”
Age
25
​

• Appearance
• Personality
• Ability
• Post-Burnout Ability
• Backstory
• Burnout Incident
• Specialty
• Misc

• The once groomed and pristine Lave with straight wavy dyed green hair and bright face with light make up on is replaced by disrepair. Her hair is matted, tangled as well as having the dye fade into a blackish green, her eyes have deep dark circles underneath them, and she doesn’t bother with any sort of makeup or styling her hair anymore. Her body is pretty thin, a bit below average weight, but with a height of 6’2,” the woman is a tree of a person with such a thin long body which she usually wears clothing to cover most of it.
  One thing she still has is her bright green eyes, their deep color inside now a large contrast to her current state.
  
• Before the burnout, Lave was a gifted healer and as such, she learned to very quickly be a calming presence. With everyone on the battlefield so happy to see her, she was a complete shine of happiness on the outside as she used other’s needs of her as a way to ignore her inner problems.
  
  Post-Burnout, Lave is distant and a drunkard, her once happy expression replaced by tired dark circles under her eyes and a frown with an annoyed look in her eyes only shifting to self-pity at times of privacy. If pushed she displayed fits of madness, her mind scarred by her realizations she made on the battlefield that day.
  
  At the end of the day she wants to be left to rot to bury her indoctrinated self, but she can’t help but try to help others whether it’s out of duty or trying to redeem her irredeemable self in her own eyes.
  
• Lave’s ability is mostly channeling the energy of light she decided to call ‘The Beacon’, a rather powerful power of healing and regeneration when channeled how she desires. The other function of her power came after a few years of mastering her power, which is to make what she has called ‘hard-light’ material. This material is purely made of light yet can be formed, her abilities able to make it into large walls or weaponry to defend herself with.
  
  The limits of the healing earned her the title of ‘The Beacon of Hope’ as she could regenerate entire organs and limbs, allowing for people to recover completely from injuries where she was posted at.
• Lave’s Power was affected in the one way that crippled her entire function. It was not power, but control she lost. Her hard-light barely responds unless it is one weapon or a five-foot by five-foot wall, and the power of her healing is uncontrollable at random times when accessed, causing too much healing or none at all. She became unpredictable and imprecise, a deadly thing for a medic.
• Their upbringing was not the best for a defender of humanity, but it was their childhood regardless. From birth, they were born into a cult, worshiping the enemies of humanity and planning to bring them into the world even more than they already did. Everyone had their own reasons to be working at this goal, but Lave’s parents were obsessed with the perceived beauty they saw in the entities and their crystalline paths they tore across the lands as they went. Their talks of beauty were more like insane ramblings, the uncomfortable gibberings never quite convincing Lave of this fact.... but very young she learned to simply agree and allow things to happen lest she gets more scars on her body for disobeying. Her body already had numerous ones by the time she was 18, and finally, she caught glimpses of people outside the influence of the secretive society, unaware of the spy equipment put in place on their homes to choose possible kidnapping candidates for sacrifice or other financial means. People... thinking their own thoughts. They were living lives completely against or indifference towards these entities.... it was amazing.... so freeing to Lave.
  
  So she ran. She ran away using what she had learned over nearly 18 years of life, escaping the compound underneath an unassuming suburban home, having times it to arouse the least suspicion and when it was the easiest. And thus from then on she ran and lived on the streets... until she developed the first signs of her power. From then on she was almost scooped up by the government, the girl rather timid at times only to flip into fits of rage, but eventually her rebellion died down as she was treated less like a slave and more like a human being. A human being the hospitals and government had no records of, thanks to the rather secretive upbringing. Thus she chose a new name to be documented under. Lave, after her favorite scent Lavender.
• Lave struggled with her upbringing in secrecy for her life since the compound, and with that cam internalizing those experiences like the indoctrination. It came to a boiling point on the battlefield, a front line assault against the enemy. Her hard-light bulwark wall was breached, the light shimmering amidst this crystalline entity, and their path is driven through the land, her healing she was applying to a fallen soldier fluctuating as she stared at the entity. She thought at that moment she was going to die, and at that moment she saw the beauty her parents ranted and madly raved in the shining otherworldly material.
  
  Fortunately or unfortunately the entity was slain, leaving the woman kneeling there crying tears of witnesses unearthly beauty and madness. Her brain snapped as it questioned if she was right to fight, or was she truly against what was right. Her field patient at the time was the biggest reason they took her off the frontlines, as her healing ran rampant and caused him to suffer a painful case of 7 different terminal cancers her healing had caused in just a few minutes.
  
  Lave now spends her time, now out of the psych ward of a frontline hospital, as a drunk trying to forget her visions and regrets as she tries to regain what she views as ignorance of her actions and defiance.
• First responder Medic, combat medic, or simply a doctor.
• •Lave is a lesbian, single all her life however as she was either always busy with the cult or the job of being a hero. Now she drinks in regret of ever caring about either and not focusing on having someone to herself.
  •Her favorite drink is a Long Island Iced Tea
  •She normally just drinks straight Rum

 

[Moomba]

• Name: Erik Lake
• Age: 28
• Appearance: Erick stands a bit above average, not exactly bulky but strong all the same. His olive skin makes his many scars stand out, particularly the ones on his face. His dark hair curls to just above his shoulders, and Erik rarely ties it back. His dark grey eyes, while lacking the incredible intensity that they held before his burnout, have something darker, which reflects the things that he’s seen in his service as a hero.
• Personality: Before his burnout, Erik was confident in his power, and had a charismatic, if a bit rough manner that led to him being well liked by his comrades. Post-burnout, his charisma remains, but his sense of confidence and optimism which made him a good leader has all but disappeared, replaced by a cynical pragmatism and a dark sense of humor.
• Ability: Incredible perception and intuition, which can be precognitive at times, and the reflexes to go along with it. He’s mastered his abilities, and trained his mind so he can use them to their fullest potential.
• Post-Burnout: His perception has dulled somewhat, and it no longer offers him true precognition.
• Backstory: He grew up in a relatively free spirited family, and his parents were okay with him doing whatever he wanted, legal or not. Erick spent some time with various organized crime groups, picking up several bad habits, most of which he managed to shrug off by the time he gained his powers, at age 17. He decided to pick himself up after that, and managed to master his powers quickly. He quickly gained somewhat of a reputation as an effective fighter, though he was considered somewhat naive.
• Burnout Incident: Erik was pinned down during a particularly bad urban battle, literally. He got caught under a chunk of debris, and unable to escape, was mocked and eventually tortured by a group of insurgents. They eventually left him for dead, a piece of rebar stabbed through his gut. Erik managed to pull though until, nearly bleeding out until his rescue nearly a day later. As soon as they pulled him from under the pile of rubble, he knew he was burned out.
• Specialty: Erik excels as both a commander and a frontline fighter

Misc: Erik picked up a smoking habit in his youth, but he’d managed to quit after a few years as a hero. Once his burnout happened, however, he ended up back in the habit, usually smoking small cigars that he buys custom. It’s not something that really bothers him, just a fact of life at this point.