Other Let Me Make You a Superpower

[The J]

Anyone who's read Worm (https://parahumans.wordpress.com/) will be familiar with this process.
What I'm asking you guys to do is come up with a unique situation where a character's stress comes to a peak, and they "trigger". This is known as a trigger event, and the situation leading up to it will affect the power you get. I will then take this trigger and write a little bit of story once the power activates, and maybe a bit later on in their life, followed by an explanation of the power. Feel free to use and modify the power however you wish, though I may shamelessly steal it.

Some Examples of my own:

Spoiler: Road Rash (Warning: a bit of gore)

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1MtDqeT-T7123kDHBnTAjjQe5jZhog70GtRoUKH2idio/edit?usp=sharing

Spoiler: Blackmail

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1B5EFKM8_EkAFzCkQDEEYbUSZDfc4wZffG2_WmqCHXto/edit?usp=sharing

Spoiler: Yellowstone

https://docs.google.com/document/d/11fOvCEznwlbH9aNOfxQYcUDPKQAqyNnYeK_pjxlGA2E/edit?usp=sharing

I will be using my current knowledge of Weaverdice (a WIP RPG based on Worm) to get a feel for what a power should be like, however, I will take some liberties if I see a cool avenue to go down with a power.

Trigger events can be both long- and/or short-term, and this will affect the power you're given. A long term example would be something like persistent stalking coming to a head when you see the person enter your house. A short term example would be a car crash. A mixed example would be said stalker coming at you with a knife.
Feel free to take inspiration from anywhere, even your own life. However, please try to make them unique, and don't make them overly long. They should be focused on the actual trigger event and nothing more unless absolutely necessary. I don't care what classes your character had in school, I care how bad they're being bullied.
I find that trigger events tend to work best in second person present. For example, "you open the door, finding your mother inside".
Please do your best to use proper spelling and grammar. I don't give a damn about archaic grammar laws, but please at least do use spellcheck and maybe check it over once you're finished.

Some (very) general guidelines for what powers you will get:

Master - minion and human control in general. Triggers from some sort of isolation or rejection.

Stranger - stealth, subterfuge, trickery. Triggers from unwanted attention of some kind.

Blaster - ranged attacks and effects. Triggers from threats at a distance.

Shaker - territory control and area of effect. Triggers from environmental and area of effect dangers.

Brute - being difficult to kill. Triggers from damage to one's body.

Striker - effects within melee range. Triggers from in-your-face threats.

Tinker - able to somewhat-instinctively produce hyper-advanced tech, usually with some sort of gimmick or theme. Triggers from long-term threats and unsolvable problems.

Thinker - powers that affect one's mind and information-gathering. Triggers from intense short-term emotional/mental bursts.

Changer - shifting forms into different shapes, materials, colours, etc. Triggers from issues involving self-image, be it in terms of appearance, lifestyle, mental state, etc.

Mover - anything to do with getting from A to B faster. Triggers from an intense desire/need to specifically get out of a situation, be it physical, mental or emotional.

Trump - powers to do with powers, be it changing your own or those of others, even creating them in other people. Triggers when another super is involved in the event. Yes, I know, Trump. Hurr-hurr.


The idea for this was shamelessly stolen strongly inspired by Idea 's thread here:
https://www.rpnation.com/threads/idea-creates-you-a-super-power-quizz.319324/#post-7625968
I like to think that this one will be a bit more predictable, though I doubt I'll be able to match up to Idea's insane level of creativity, and I'll only be making powers that I reckon could fit into the Worm setting.

For anyone that gets a power but has nowhere to use it, I can recommend no RPs better than these two:

Aegis: Facility 108, a school-based roleplay (wait, hear me out!) that manages to be not just your run-of-the-mill generic RP, with fantastic standards for characters. Run by welian .

Legacy Pollentia, another actually good school-based roleplay with a very interesting setting based on a multitude of secret societies. Run by Natealie .

 

[welian]

You're an older gentleman, you retired a few years ago, and you're enjoying having all the time in the world to practice the guitar again - even if it's been slowly getting harder and harder to carry your case up and down the stairs at the rec center. Lately, you've been in a bit of a fog. The teacher doesn't mind a few missed chords here and there, it happens, but it's not like "Hey Jude" is the most complex of songs, you know?

She makes a suggestion, but you don't quite catch what she says. She repeats herself, but she's either speaking in tongues or has a potato in her mouth. You can feel your face begin to sweat as you glance at the sheet music, but it doesn't make sense either. You know the letters didn't change, but you can't tell what they say, either.

You ask to leave for a moment for some water, and she looks at you strangely. You don't understand her potato-tongue, but it sounds moderately concerned. She grabs your arm and pulls it above your head. You give her a withering glare as it falls back down to your side. What was the point of that, even? You're irritated, tired, she won't stop mumbling, and now some other rec center employees have shown up and look more and more worried the more you try to explain that you're fine, you're just tired and thirsty, and would they please stop touching your arms? You can raise them just fine, look, that's not the problem - seriously, the potato thing needs to stop - you shout angrily at them, but your tongue doesn't move right. The teacher dials 911. Your face feels numb.

Trigger.

((J says this is a bit long, but J is a weirdo who likes Worm, so this is his punishment.))

 

[The J]

I SAID IT WAS FINE DAMN IT WELIAN!

--

Agamotto's vision fades, and he thinks it's getting worse. He sees visions of blinding lights, people, forests of glass, whole planets then tiny particles, all in hues he'd never thought existed.
He came to, and the talking was back again... but it was normal. He could understand people's amazement as he came to, then stood up and looked around. His teacher was the only one who was silent. She stood still, the left side of her face drooping as everyone started to see what was happening to her. He recognised the exact looks that had been directed his way before, now at her.
Everything became slowed as he looked around, and time nearly stopped... until he felt worse again, and stumbled as time returned to normal, landing on another concerned person... and he felt fine, as they dropped like a sack of potatoes.

--

"Wait! Don't, please!" Agamotto shouted, running towards the boy on the rail.
"I... ok, ok, I'm not gonna do it. Oh, god..." he stuttered in response, slowly moving his legs off.
"It's ok, come here..." Agamotto said, grabbing the boy's hand with his gloved one. His eyes glazed over, and the arm that was balancing him on the rail fell limp. Agamotto held him firm as the boy grunted and slurred, but wasn't able to do much more than fruitless shuffling.
"I'm so, so sorry," Agamotto spoke as he felt his brain become sharper, and the decay lessened. He let go of the boy's hand, and the now-limp body fell back and tumbled, down into the dark below, hitting the water with a splash. The spray from hitting the surface moved slowly. He thought to himself how ironic, that a death would produce such a fleetingly beautiful scene.

--

Agamotto is a striker-thinker. He can, upon touching someone, cause parts of their brain to die away like that of a stroke victim, all the while putting off his own inevitable decay. He can also slow down his perception of time, at the cost of effectively heightened decay - it moves on at exactly the pace he experiences, rather than at the speed of the world around him.
Just to survive, he needs to use his power at least once per week, so he seeks out homeless and suicidal people, whom he sees as unlikely to be missed.

 

[welian]

Fucking hell, that's dark as shit.

 

[The J]

Fucking hell, that's dark as shit.

Welcome to Worm.

 

[welian]

Okay, fucking edgelord, Reaper mains on the left. That's the sinister side.

 

[rae2nerdy]

[ I think this is right? Let me know if I need to change something ]

You stand to the side of a stage shaking slightly with nerves. Years of lessons, hours of rehearsals, and the ever present shadow of Mother's expectation all swirl around in a nauseous mix in your stomach. You can hear the echoes of the family's constant demands for perfection pounding in time with your frantically beating heart. Each echo reinforcing the knowledge you must be Perfect, The Best, Flawless. That failure is anathema, unacceptable, unconscionable even.

You want nothing so much as to flee into the shadows and have a good cry, or maybe heave up your last pitiful meal in an effort to alleviate the pressure building within. But those would be signs of weakness, and your family would fall upon you like a vicious pack of predators for daring to embarrass them in such a way.

So when you receive the signal to enter the stage you hope against hope no one can see your quaking, that the pounding in your heart and the queasy feeling in your stomach don't choke your words.

You remind yourself that the sooner you begin the sooner you can flee to a dark corner and let the fear wash over you. So just as the murmurs from the faceless audience rise you open your mouth to sing.

 

[Caligena]

A young boy who has been emotionally abused and neglected by his parents growing up, is adopted by an older scientist who may or may not be altogether sane. He has grown up under the scientist's tutelage and grows up to be outstanding in the field of medicine and bioengineering.
Eventually, he is ironically diagnosed with terminal liver cancer, to which there is no cure.
I'm thinking his initial pretrigger is when he receives the letter with his diagnosis.
But his primary main trigger is the depression and frustration that he can't cure his own illness.

The J

 

[Natealie]

You are a twelve year old little girl attending the local elementary school. This is a bit awkward due to the gap in standard of living. You see, you come from a family which is mostly poor, with only your father being rich. He likes to keep all of the money for himself since you are technically a child born from another woman. They had to take you in after your real mother died, and they absolutely loathe you and your siblings. They only provide you with basic necessities.

So for all intent and purpose, you are a poor girl attending a school for rich kids. Everyone knows this, and they all consider you an eyesore. Each day you are reminded by these people that they are better than you, that you will never be as good as them, and that you never will have what they have. Because of all of this, at such a young age, you have developed a kind of darkness within your heart. You have an absolute hatred for those who are better off than you, born from endless envy and as a reaction from being treated as a subhuman from people who believe they are better than you.

Then it happened. The event that changed everything. You don't know when it did, but you know it wasn't you. One of your classmates planted drugs in your schoolbag to get you expelled. You saw this first. Thoughts rush through your head.

How dare they.

How dare they look down on me. Just because I don't have as much as they do they think I'm less than human? Well they don't deserve what they have. I deserve everything they have and fucking more! The only thing they deserve is to suffer!

Trigger: Jealousy and hatred for those who are better off than one's self.

I can go into more depth if you want. Be as dark as you desire, as I'm not trying to make a nice character here.

 

[Lemon Boy]

Reader discretion is advised, first trigger event involves an attempted act of suicide. Should probably avoid it if you're sensitive to that stuff.

Spoiler

You knew there wasn't anything you could do to make life any better and truth be told, you thought it wasn't worth living anymore. You didn't maintain contact with your parents, you didn't have any friends to lean on and support you, you lived in the shittiest house imaginable and still could barely afford to pay for rent and worst of all, nothing was changing. That was the part that hurt the most. You always saw people talking about it eventually gets better or how you'll end up pulling through, but it had been two years, living like this, if you could call it living anyway. So, you were going to put an end to it, maybe do something in your life for once that would actually have an impact. You could finally find a use for that rifle you had. It was difficult at first, thinking about doing it, but you did it. As you pulled the trigger, you finally thought that for once in your life, you were actually doing something. Making a change. You were wrong.

A neighbour had heard the gunshot and called the authorities, and somehow against all the odds, you had survived. They had managed to get you to a hospital and they were able to work a miracle, keeping you alive. This wasn't what you wanted, this wasn't how it was supposed to go, you hadn't changed a single thing. Trigger.

-----

Spoiler

You had lived a quiet existence, a peaceful one that was never disturbed and always remained the same, featuring the same safe people and safe environment. Agoraphobia was what they called it. The house you lived in was your sanctuary and your parents were its guardians. You got an education online and from your parents and you were always able to entertain yourself with games. You really didn't mind that you couldn't go out into the outside world, you didn't envy the people who did. It was dangerous out there, terrifying, unsafe, chaotic, unpredictable. The News occasionally informed you how some helpless soul was killed out in the street for no real reason aside from being themselves, of how parents lost children because of horrific car accidents that shouldn't have happened and how people died by not doing as something as simple as looking both ways when crossing the world. You never needed to worry about that though, the house that you had lived in for all these years was an island of safety and order in a sea of chaos and anarchy.

One weekend, your parents had informed you that you had the house to yourself, as your auntie was getting married. They knew not to push and pry, knew it would make things worse so they were perfectly content and fine that you'd function on your own, which you did. Nothing could ruin the peace and quiet of your home. That's what you thought anyway. It was during the night that you realised that you were wrong, going downstairs after hearing something. You thought something might of fell off the shelf because of a draft from the window or maybe your cat knocked it over. You froze as you turned off the lights to see two thieves, knives resting at their sides, freezing in the middle of stuffing as much valuables as they could in their bags. They had given each other a look before they unsheathed their knives and began to approach. A panic attack started to rear it's head as you realised that this wasn't a sanctuary anymore. It wasn't safe, it was all a lie. You were going to die because this wasn't the sanctuary you thought it was. Trigger.

 

[Tardy Grade]

Nice nice. Always good to see people get more Worm into their lives.

 

[Necessity4Fun]

So, I said I wasn't going to do this and took a nap. Then I woke up from said nap, read the thread again in the middle of my boredom and got recalled something that happened once and then my brain went 'Do the thing. DO IT"
So I did the thing. Got extremely carried away tho. It's BIG! >w<

Uhhhh...Have fun?

Spoiler

You're a girl on her nineteen's and finally, you're hopeful about something in your life. You're a college student and everything about the course you picked it's fascinating, thrilling. You're certain you made the right choice.

The only thing that could be better is your socialization. You've been used before, cast aside and overshadowed, thus, have a really hard time trusting others entirely. You long for friends, but at the same time has grown cold and unable to connect to others on a deep level. Your only salvation has been the internet, but even that seems to not be enough sometimes.

You've developed depression over the years, accepting any type of harmful commentary, letting it sink to the core of your heart. No matter how much it hurts, you can't stop pretending, smiling, saying you're fine. You know you're not, you managed to put it at bay and just, live with it. But it's made you confused, you started wondering if the you that's over it's influence is really you or something else.
Actually, you started to doubt your own personality, your own feelings. 'Who are you?', the question is normally answered with a name, your name and nothing more. So you're just a name?...

You stop dwelling into these thoughts too much. You're happy now, sure things aren't as close as the fantasies you had back at school age, but you like it and is determined to enjoy it as much as you can.


Fast forward a couple weeks, you visit your parents who you hadn't seen since you started college.
Everything is fine at first, they're happy to see you, you're happy to see them and share stories. Sure, coming here makes you the child again, it's like you don't have a choice but to obey to their whims, but you're used to that, it's been your entire life.

Suddenly nothing is fine. You see your sibling collapse to the ground in the middle of an anxiety attack and is terrified! You don't even remember what triggered this (Pre-test stress?), but all you can think about is how they don't deserve it. You do. You're fine with being mocked, ignored, the weird one...You've come to terms with your suffering, you resigned, there's nothing you CAN do.
'Why them too? Wasn't one enough?!'

You can hear it cracK.
The bottle you have deep inside your being and all it's contents start to boil. Your past hardaches and memories come to a turmoil of anger so hot and so deep for everything and everyone. Specially your parents. Specially the one with you on the room right now who doesn't seen to be as worried as you are!!

This is thEIR FAULT! THEY WEREN'T THERE WHEN YOU NEEDED THEM, THEY NEVER UNDERSTOOD, NEVER REALISED THEIR REPEATED PRESSURE TWISTED YOUR CHARACTER, NEVER TOOK YOUR WORRIES SERIOUSLY. They shielded you. They shielded you and your siblings, and the world you were never prepared for bared it's fangs and mercilessly tore you all to shreds without thinking twice.

You're standing near, frozen in terror, you're so worthless, so useless, that you can't really do anything. You hate yourself. You curse it all, your parents, your life, this world and all it's corruption. Your most strong thought is 'How DARE they?' How dare they reduce the strongest of you to such a sorry, pitiful state?! How dare they hurt your BELOVED SIBLING!

The bottle inside you at last explodes. YOU HATE IT ALL. YOU WISH THAT KARMA WILL HAVE THEM PAY FOR THIS. TRIPLICATED. THE WHOLE WORLD CAN CEASE FOR ALL YOU CARE, as long as your sibling, the only one who supported you when you needed so many times, is left IN.PEACE.

[Trigger.]

 

[The J]

[ I think this is right? Let me know if I need to change something ]

You stand to the side of a stage shaking slightly with nerves. Years of lessons, hours of rehearsals, and the ever present shadow of Mother's expectation all swirl around in a nauseous mix in your stomach. You can hear the echoes of the family's constant demands for perfection pounding in time with your frantically beating heart. Each echo reinforcing the knowledge you must be Perfect, The Best, Flawless. That failure is anathema, unacceptable, unconscionable even.

You want nothing so much as to flee into the shadows and have a good cry, or maybe heave up your last pitiful meal in an effort to alleviate the pressure building within. But those would be signs of weakness, and your family would fall upon you like a vicious pack of predators for daring to embarrass them in such a way.

So when you receive the signal to enter the stage you hope against hope no one can see your quaking, that the pounding in your heart and the queasy feeling in your stomach don't choke your words.

You remind yourself that the sooner you begin the sooner you can flee to a dark corner and let the fear wash over you. So just as the murmurs from the faceless audience rise you open your mouth to sing.

Pretty good! I'll just add a little bit to the end to make sure that it ends with the actual triggery bit - the exact second where it all comes crashing down.

--

Your voice cracks as soon as you try to sing, and all that escapes your throat is a tiny crack. Your vision becomes a blur of colour and lights as you pass out, slumping to the floor.

--

Shadowcaster felt her skin become warm. She came to whilst on the floor, seeing stage hands looking at her with shocked looks, and the audience was in a furore. She realised that she must have passed out, and began to stand, stumbling slightly before coming to her feet. The stage hands who'd looked at her strangely moved away, looking scared and unsure now.
What was making them act so weird? She looked down at herself, but she couldn't see her clothes, her body. Only a perfect pitch black, like looking into a lightless shadow. She was scared too, now. What the hell was happening? Why did she look like this? She shook her hands, tried to rub it off, willed it to leave her body... and it did. Black streaks shot out from her shaking hands, slamming into the wings of the stage, one of them catching a terrified stage hand in the chest, throwing him back as if by a powerful kick.

--

"Where the fuck is she?"

"Boss, we've searched the whole building, up and down. She can't be here."

"I don't believe that for a damn second. Look again!"

"...Yes, boss."

The lackey left the room, holding his glock ahead of him as he walked. As he shut the door behind him, a shadow peeled from the wall behind a file drawer, moving silently as its arm raised to point at the boss.
He didn't have time to even shout as he turned around, then was thrown back to slam into the wall. His forehead was caved in, and he didn't move any further. He was dead.

--

Shadowcaster is a stranger-blaster who can draw in shadows from around her to cover herself in them, becoming practically invisible in the dark. By using up some of this covering, she can fire shadowy bolts that hit more like a sledgehammer than a bullet, with quite some accuracy.

 

[ViAdvena]

This day is the happiest day of your life. After years of trainings, nerve-wrecking audition, and restless weeks of waiting that followed aftermath, your teacher finally told you that you are chosen as the main dancer for the upcoming prestigious ballet production. Not only it is an impressive feats for a newcomer of your age, it also gives your career a really bright future; a highroad to your dream.

Beaming with both pride and happiness, you walk on the roadside with steps as light as your heart. The noisy street does little in dampening your mood, and even the dull droning crowds look colorful in your eyes. Until something catches your immediate attention. In the middle of the street, a young child no older than four. Coming from far away with high velocity, is a pickup truck.

Almost without thinking, your trained legs dash forward to rescue the child off the street. The child is pushed aside, falling on the roadside yet otherwise unharmed. But you severely underestimate the speed of the vehicle. The blaring horn is drawing near, strong winds impede your sprint, gravity glues your feet to the ground - you are not fast enough. A desperate last push topple you forward - and the vehicle runs over your lower body. Sickening crunch of broken bones is drowned by the blinding pain, sending you to oblivion. But even in your fading consciousness you can sense, as your legs are crushed, so is your dream.

 

[The J]

You are a twelve year old little girl attending the local elementary school. This is a bit awkward due to the gap in standard of living. You see, you come from a family which is mostly poor, with only your father being rich. He likes to keep all of the money for himself since you are technically a child born from another woman. They had to take you in after your real mother died, and they absolutely loathe you and your siblings. They only provide you with basic necessities.

So for all intent and purpose, you are a poor girl attending a school for rich kids. Everyone knows this, and they all consider you an eyesore. Each day you are reminded by these people that they are better than you, that you will never be as good as them, and that you never will have what they have. Because of all of this, at such a young age, you have developed a kind of darkness within your heart. You have an absolute hatred for those who are better off than you, born from endless envy and as a reaction from being treated as a subhuman from people who believe they are better than you.

Trigger: Jealousy.

I can go into more depth if you want. Be as dark as you desire, as I'm not trying to make a nice character here.

If you could make the trigger an actual event, not just an overall feeling that'd round it off nicely. A moment where the jealousy reaches a peak - maybe you're treated unfairly, or lose what little you have whilst seeing the rich kids prosper. Maybe they physically bully you for who you are, or pull a harsh prank.

 

[Natealie]

The J Ok, I edited it to have a bit more of a set time. I'd like to think that the entire circumstance however is what led to everything.

 

[The J]

The J Ok, I edited it to have a bit more of a set time. I'd like to think that the entire circumstance however is what led to everything.

Wunderbar! You're next after Sin as I've spoken with Koruma and he's going to edit his sheet.

 

[The J]

Reader discretion is advised, first trigger event involves an attempted act of suicide. Should probably avoid it if you're sensitive to that stuff.

Spoiler

You knew there wasn't anything you could do to make life any better and truth be told, you thought it wasn't worth living anymore. You didn't maintain contact with your parents, you didn't have any friends to lean on and support you, you lived in the shittiest house imaginable and still could barely afford to pay for rent and worst of all, nothing was changing. That was the part that hurt the most. You always saw people talking about it eventually gets better or how you'll end up pulling through, but it had been two years, living like this, if you could call it living anyway. So, you were going to put an end to it, maybe do something in your life for once that would actually have an impact. You could finally find a use for that rifle you had. It was difficult at first, thinking about doing it, but you did it. As you pulled the trigger, you finally thought that for once in your life, you were actually doing something. Making a change. You were wrong.

A neighbour had heard the gunshot and called the authorities, and somehow against all the odds, you had survived. They had managed to get you to a hospital and they were able to work a miracle, keeping you alive. This wasn't what you wanted, this wasn't how it was supposed to go, you hadn't changed a single thing. Trigger.

I'll do this one first, then the next one after I've done Vi's.

--

The ceiling light above became brighter and brighter until it turned into a dazzling light show. Whole landscapes that felt as small as a speck of dust flew by until they rushed up and slammed together, showering whole worlds with tiny motes of light.
Christ, his head hurt. The sound alone would have deafened him, but the damage it did to his head made it a thousand times worse. Yet... focusing on the pain made it hurt less. In fact, his head started to feel just fine, even pretty good. All of the pain had gone away, almost as quickly as it had come.
He could think straight, now. His mind was clear, and it didn't feel awful. He touched his head and felt the bandages there... but even prodding at them didn't hurt, so he simply ripped them clear of his head, congealed blood tearing off with ease from his unblemished skin.

--

Vigour ran at the thug, shielding his face with his arms. Bullets pinged harmlessly off them as he closed in, though he was thrown off-balance by the force of the rounds hitting him. He stumbled slightly, but keep going, closing in on the thug.
He focused power into his right arm, shoulder and fist entirely, and swung, knocking the thug to the ground, passed out, in a single blow.

--

Vigour is a brute/thinker who can focus his power into parts of his body. They have to be connected, so nothing like one arm and one leg, but it can cover up to and including his whole body. The smaller the area, the stronger the effect. The effect itself is one of minor regeneration, a strength boost, and higher durability. If used on his head, it also makes him sharper, more quick-thinking and more aware.

 

[The J]

So, I said I wasn't going to do this and took a nap. Then I woke up from said nap, read the thread again in the middle of my boredom and got recalled something that happened once and then my brain went 'Do the thing. DO IT"
So I did the thing. Got extremely carried away tho. It's BIG! >w<

Uhhhh...Have fun?

Spoiler

You're a girl on her nineteen's and finally, you're hopeful about something in your life. You're a college student and everything about the course you picked it's fascinating, thrilling. You're certain you made the right choice.

The only thing that could be better is your socialization. You've been used before, cast aside and overshadowed, thus, have a really hard time trusting others entirely. You long for friends, but at the same time has grown cold and unable to connect to others on a deep level. Your only salvation has been the internet, but even that seems to not be enough sometimes.

You've developed depression over the years, accepting any type of harmful commentary, letting it sink to the core of your heart. No matter how much it hurts, you can't stop pretending, smiling, saying you're fine. You know you're not, you managed to put it at bay and just, live with it. But it's made you confused, you started wondering if the you that's over it's influence is really you or something else.
Actually, you started to doubt your own personality, your own feelings. 'Who are you?', the question is normally answered with a name, your name and nothing more. So you're just a name?...

You stop dwelling into these thoughts too much. You're happy now, sure things aren't as close as the fantasies you had back at school age, but you like it and is determined to enjoy it as much as you can.


Fast forward a couple weeks, you visit your parents who you hadn't seen since you started college.
Everything is fine at first, they're happy to see you, you're happy to see them and share stories. Sure, coming here makes you the child again, it's like you don't have a choice but to obey to their whims, but you're used to that, it's been your entire life.

Suddenly nothing is fine. You see your sibling collapse to the ground in the middle of an anxiety attack and is terrified! You don't even remember what triggered this (Pre-test stress?), but all you can think about is how they don't deserve it. You do. You're fine with being mocked, ignored, the weird one...You've come to terms with your suffering, you resigned, there's nothing you CAN do.
'Why them too? Wasn't one enough?!'

You can hear it cracK.
The bottle you have deep inside your being and all it's contents start to boil. Your past hardaches and memories come to a turmoil of anger so hot and so deep for everything and everyone. Specially your parents. Specially the one with you on the room right now who doesn't seen to be as worried as you are!!

This is thEIR FAULT! THEY WEREN'T THERE WHEN YOU NEEDED THEM, THEY NEVER UNDERSTOOD, NEVER REALISED THEIR REPEATED PRESSURE TWISTED YOUR CHARACTER, NEVER TOOK YOUR WORRIES SERIOUSLY. They shielded you. They shielded you and your siblings, and the world you were never prepared for bared it's fangs and mercilessly tore you all to shreds without thinking twice.

You're standing near, frozen in terror, you're so worthless, so useless, that you can't really do anything. You hate yourself. You curse it all, your parents, your life, this world and all it's corruption. Your most strong thought is 'How DARE they?' How dare they reduce the strongest of you to such a sorry, pitiful state?! How dare they hurt your BELOVED SIBLING!

The bottle inside you at last explodes. YOU HATE IT ALL. YOU WISH THAT KARMA WILL HAVE THEM PAY FOR THIS. TRIPLICATED. THE WHOLE WORLD CAN CEASE FOR ALL YOU CARE, as long as your sibling, the only one who supported you when you needed so many times, is left IN.PEACE.

[Trigger.]

It feels like your heart is going a million beats a second, pounding like a sledgehammer in your chest, and you faint, falling to the floor. Your vision is that of swirling lights, huge and yet minuscule at the same time.
When you wake up, your parents are looking at you... no behind you. Behind you there stands a figure in dark grey, smooth and featureless... though it reminds you of your sibling, just slightly. As you look at them, you can almost feel what it's thinking. No... you and it are both thinking together. You can sense what it's sensing, and it goes the other way too.

--

"Where are they, huh? Where the hell is your friend? The grey fucker, the parahuman? What is he, a 53?"
"He's not a parahuman."
"Like hell, he isn't. He appears out of nowhere and disappears when we hurt him. That's a god damn parahuman."
"He's not a parahuman. I am."
"Wha-" the man was cut off as The Grey Man hit him in the head from behind with a lead pipe, sending him sprawling and most likely giving him a heavy concussion, if not outright brain damage.

--

The Grey Man is the moniker used for the girl's projection, rated by those not in the know as a brute. She herself is a master/thinker. No one realises that she controls it, and she likes to keep it that way. He has the physique of a very fit man of her own age and will disappear with a five-minute timer once heavily damaged. She can sense everything that he does, save for pain.

 

[Necessity4Fun]

It feels like your heart is going a million beats a second, pounding like a sledgehammer in your chest, and you faint, falling to the floor. Your vision is that of swirling lights, huge and yet minuscule at the same time.
When you wake up, your parents are looking at you... no behind you. Behind you there stands a figure in dark grey, smooth and featureless... though it reminds you of your sibling, just slightly. As you look at them, you can almost feel what it's thinking. No... you and it are both thinking together. You can sense what it's sensing, and it goes the other way too.

--

"Where are they, huh? Where the hell is your friend? The grey fucker, the parahuman? What is he, a 53?"
"He's not a parahuman."
"Like hell, he isn't. He appears out of nowhere and disappears when we hurt him. That's a god damn parahuman."
"He's not a parahuman. I am."
"Wha-" the man was cut off as The Grey Man hit him in the head from behind with a lead pipe, sending him sprawling and most likely giving him a heavy concussion, if not outright brain damage.

--

The Grey Man is the moniker used for the girl's projection, rated by those not in the know as a brute. She herself is a master/thinker. No one realises that she controls it, and she likes to keep it that way. He has the physique of a very fit man of her own age and will disappear with a five-minute timer once heavily damaged. She can sense everything that he does, save for pain.

You don't disappoint

 

[The J]

This day is the happiest day of your life. After years of trainings, nerve-wrecking audition, and restless weeks of waiting that followed aftermath, your teacher finally told you that you are chosen as the main dancer for the upcoming prestigious ballet production. Not only it is an impressive feats for a newcomer of your age, it also gives your career a really bright future; a highroad to your dream.

Beaming with both pride and happiness, you walk on the roadside with steps as light as your heart. The noisy street does little in dampening your mood, and even the dull droning crowds look colorful in your eyes. Until something catches your immediate attention. In the middle of the street, a young child no older than four. Coming from far away with high velocity, is a pickup truck.

Almost without thinking, your trained legs dash forward to rescue the child off the street. The child is pushed aside, falling on the roadside yet otherwise unharmed. But you severely underestimate the speed of the vehicle. The blaring horn is drawing near, strong winds impede your sprint, gravity glues your feet to the ground - you are not fast enough. A desperate last push topple you forward - and the vehicle runs over your lower body. Sickening crunch of broken bones is drowned by the blinding pain, sending you to oblivion. But even in your fading consciousness you can sense, as your legs are crushed, so is your dream.

Awesome stuff, really unique as well ViAdvena

--

Flashing colours, blinding pain... the vision is short for Empyrean. When she awakes, the first thing she notices is a glow, but her vision is too blurred to see what it is. She moves her arm, and it feels... different. It feels heavier yet she can lift it just as easily, if not easier.
As her vision sharpens, she sees the source of the glow. A translucent, golden wing, extending from her arm, mirroring her movings exactly, feathers shifting with her fingers. The muscles in her arms, chest, shoulders and abdomen have become enormous, disproportionately so, making her incredibly top heavy... exactly everything that her legs were not.
What once had been beautifully toned and skinny has now become ugly, mashed and broken. She screams as the pain hits her, and passes out once more.

--

"See? Easy cash, told you. Ain't never trouble in this job, we're just here to look scary, not fight."
"Yeah, you were right, man. I should do this more often."
"As-wait, did you hear that? A... wooshing?"
"What? Nope, nothing."
A great golden wing slammed into the back of the first man's head, knocking him out cold. Empyrean used the force of the hit to pivot around and punch the other one in the forehead with an overgrown fist, rocking his head back to put him down as well. She landed on both of her hands, swinging her legless hips forwards from the momentum.
Guards dealt with, she moved on, inside the building.

--

Empyrean is a mover-brute who can produce enormous, glowing golden wings from each arm. Her hands, arms, shoulders, chest and core are immensely strengthened and engorged to dear with the job of pulling the wings up and down as well as her having immensely increased stamina.
When once she danced beautifully, now she sees herself as hideous, a freak, at least in her normal life. But when she's a superhero she feels beautiful, and as free as she once was.

 

[Lemon Boy]

*Rolls around*

 

[The J]

Spoiler

You had lived a quiet existence, a peaceful one that was never disturbed and always remained the same, featuring the same safe people and safe environment. Agoraphobia was what they called it. The house you lived in was your sanctuary and your parents were its guardians. You got an education online and from your parents and you were always able to entertain yourself with games. You really didn't mind that you couldn't go out into the outside world, you didn't envy the people who did. It was dangerous out there, terrifying, unsafe, chaotic, unpredictable. The News occasionally informed you how some helpless soul was killed out in the street for no real reason aside from being themselves, of how parents lost children because of horrific car accidents that shouldn't have happened and how people died by not doing as something as simple as looking both ways when crossing the world. You never needed to worry about that though, the house that you had lived in for all these years was an island of safety and order in a sea of chaos and anarchy.

One weekend, your parents had informed you that you had the house to yourself, as your auntie was getting married. They knew not to push and pry, knew it would make things worse so they were perfectly content and fine that you'd function on your own, which you did. Nothing could ruin the peace and quiet of your home. That's what you thought anyway. It was during the night that you realised that you were wrong, going downstairs after hearing something. You thought something might have fallen off the shelf because of a draft from the window or maybe your cat knocked it over. You froze as you turned off the lights to see two thieves, knives resting at their sides, freezing in the middle of stuffing as many valuables as they could in their bags. They had given each other a look before they unsheathed their knives and began to approach. A panic attack started to rear it's head as you realised that this wasn't a sanctuary anymore. It wasn't safe, it was all a lie. You were going to die because this wasn't the sanctuary you thought it was. Trigger.

Jolly good stuff as usual Lemon Boy Sorry it took so long, this was a really difficult one!

--

Smog fell to the ground, fainting momentarily as he felt more than saw a whole planet, in a blinding array of lights, before coming to once again.
He looked up at the still-encroaching, armed men, and threw up one hand in a weak defence. The two of them were launched across the room and both covered by a choking, blinding gas, each falling to the ground choking, still buffeted by the gust constantly as they struggled to move, unable. Both of them eventually stopped choking, and their bodies fell limp, dead.
Smog was horrified by what he realised was his doing. He ran, rushing for the door... but hesitated at the threshold. His home, his sanctuary, was no longer safe. But the outside...
He pushed through, driven by panic. He looked around as he kept running, not knowing where he was even going, terrified breaths escaping as he panted in hysteria, almost hyperventilating. He had no idea of the world outside his walls, he'd forgotten almost all of it... OH GOD WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE? THEY WANT TO HURT ME!

--

We bring you tragic news from Wisconsin, as a major parahuman attack has left many injured and dead civilians in its wake. The parahuman, named as "Smog" by the Parahuman Response Team went on a rampage at eleven o'clock last night, wildly attacking members of the public with barrages of powerful wind and smoke, causing blunt force trauma and respiratory problems for those attacked.
We have been told that this attack was not an act of malice, but rather one of a crazed young man who had just been given his powers in a highly traumatic trigger event. It is suspected to have been caused by two men armed with knives, found dead inside the young man's home, where his parents had left him alone overnight while they were away.
Our thoughts are with those affected by the attack and their families.

--

Smog is a blaster-stranger, who can shoot extremely strong gusts of the wind in front of him, which is accompanied by choking smoke. His victims are very rarely left healthy after the attack, as the force of and the trauma caused by the wind often makes it hard to escape from the column of smoke.

 

[Idea]

Woof, finnally got the time to try this one out. Don´t disappoint me pal!

Heroes, villains, it doesn´t matter which. The power alone is the cooolest thing you ever experienced. It´s the thing you always wanted! But when you just don´t have it, even if you dedicate your life to training your every aspect, mental and physical, how can you compete? How can you be part of that world? Only as part of the sidelines. And thankfully the opportunity had just arised.
A great hero was taking recruits to work for him. His famed was spread all over, a bastion of powerful justice! No wonder so many had come to try to get the job....or that some had come to take it from him. From a distance, you could just barely catch a glimpse of it, someone aiming a knife with a strange aura substance around it, aiming it at the hero you came to work for. This was the chance to prove your worth, you leapt to stop it, and you catch the knife with the only thing you could, your stomach. You feel a strange sensation inside of you, a twisting, a pulling, a mist erupts from within you as you experience the villains power and you loose your senses.

By the time you recover them, you´re no longer where you were. Before you even have time to assess that much, though, you realize something is off with you. The weight of your body, it´s not where it should be. You look at your hands, were they always this tiny? That thin? What are those golden strings that partially cover your eyes, what are you WEARING? A skirt? Now that you think about it, your chest feels heavy, and a certain part of you feels missing, between the legs. You stand up, only now realizing you are in fact surrounded by children, of your height that is. Maybe it would even be correct to say, OTHER children.

As the caretaker approaches, you feel the urge to cry. The lingering feel in your stomach suggests it´s not over. Whatever made you into a little girl, it´s yet to finish. The caretaker asks you what is wrong, you reply wondering where you are, they explain that this is where the hero brought you. You cannot contain yourself, you run. You escape. What was it worth for, all your life? All that training you did, vanishing in an instant before your very eyes. You pick up some things along the way, maybe it´s not all lost, maybe you have time to be recognized for your effort! But the clock is ticking... Already you feel yourself getting weaker and weaker. Thing you once knew in the palm of your hand are vanishing from your mind at a rapid pace. As you arrive again at the place where the hero was, by more miracle and chance than your dim memory, it´s sign is already hard to read. You bang on the door, desperately. The people in passing by are giving you stares, disturbed stares and stares of pity. No, you don´t want those kinds of stares! You want admiration, respect for your effort and the greatness of having power!

But the people inside shoo you away. You try to press your way foward, but the security pull you away with an ease that they wouldn´t have were you your normal self. Was this all hopeless? What could you do? Your brain is running out of ideas, all you can think of is kick and scream, and in some chance of fate, the hero appears again. His figure is like a statue built entirely out of hope in your eyes, his slow pace a magnificent entrance.

You did save him, right? He even thanks you for it.

But you no longer have the power to help him. Your sacrifice was honorable, but you will soon have no skills to help anyone.

These harsh words break your last bit of will to fight it as the man you admired throws you out by force through the back door. You just lay there in the grass, everything that just transpired sinking in. You´re not even sure if you´d be capable of replying anymore. of speaking the right away. The skirt is already baggy for you. Your legs barely seem capable of moving the way you want, but do you want it, can you recall how? Does it have meaning, does it matter? You wanted power, you couldn´t have it, so you settled for recognition, so you gave up everything for it. But it was all taken away from you. And you stare down at your hands, barely remembering what hands are, will it end soon? Maybe you should just give it all up...


*trigger*

The J

wow, that ended up being way longer than expected. Sorry

 

[The J]

You are a twelve year old little girl attending the local elementary school. This is a bit awkward due to the gap in standard of living. You see, you come from a family which is mostly poor, with only your father being rich. He likes to keep all of the money for himself since you are technically a child born from another woman. They had to take you in after your real mother died, and they absolutely loathe you and your siblings. They only provide you with basic necessities.

So for all intent and purpose, you are a poor girl attending a school for rich kids. Everyone knows this, and they all consider you an eyesore. Each day you are reminded by these people that they are better than you, that you will never be as good as them, and that you never will have what they have. Because of all of this, at such a young age, you have developed a kind of darkness within your heart. You have an absolute hatred for those who are better off than you, born from endless envy and as a reaction from being treated as a subhuman from people who believe they are better than you.

Then it happened. The event that changed everything. You don't know when it did, but you know it wasn't you. One of your classmates planted drugs in your schoolbag to get you expelled. You saw this first. Thoughts rush through your head.

How dare they.

How dare they look down on me. Just because I don't have as much as they do they think I'm less than human? Well they don't deserve what they have. I deserve everything they have and fucking more! The only thing they deserve is to suffer!

Trigger: Jealousy and hatred for those who are better off than one's self.

I can go into more depth if you want. Be as dark as you desire, as I'm not trying to make a nice character here.

Be as dark as you desire, as I'm not trying to make a nice character here.

Ahahaha. Ahahahahahaha. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAAA. I'm going for a slightly different choice of where I break off each section here, due to how the power plays out.

--

The damp, muggy smell of the marijuana felt like it was making Re-Curse light-headed, but he barely realised that it was more than that before he was knocked out cold by some unseen effect.

--

"So, if we take the cross product of the two angular momenta, we get the resultant fo- w-woah... what was that?" The teacher was interrupted by a loud crash that felt as if it reverberated throughout the entire school. An uneasy murmur spread throughout the class, unsure of what to do until the teacher quieted them down.
"Alright, everyone stay here. It's probably just a car crash, but I'm going to go make sure. Go ahead and try the questions on page 22 while I'm gone" he said, putting on his jacket as he left the room. Alone in the classroom, most of the kids turned to each other, talking casually without even looking at their work.
Without warning, one of the classroom walls was smashed in without warning. An enormous beast of whirring metal and blinking lights moved through the rubble as the class collectively screamed and shouted, several of their classmates having been crushed by the monster's intrusion. All of them rushed the door, pushing and shoving as they squashed their way through.
Only a few made it out before the thing leapt, slicing claws and smashing parts into the vulnerable bodies, leaving not one it touched uninjured.

--

"This is Empyrean, I see the machine. It's tearing through the east side of the main building and moving fast."
"Copy Empyrean, this is Duellist. Helicopter's just arriving. I need a visual on the target, can you get it in the open?"
"Copy Duelist, I'm moving in."
"Do not engage until Topple and Proxy arrive ah the school."
"This is Proxy. Topple's faster than you think, boss, we have visual."
"Copy Proxy, all clear to engage."
"Copy"
"Copy"
"Copy"

Empyrean dove down, her wings a brilliant gold that streamed behind her. She pulled up at the last second, spinning in the air to smash one golden wing into the monster, throwing it off balance as it tumbled towards the sports fields beside the school.
A metal spear slammed through its midsection, piercing straight through and into the dirt beneath it. The monster was pinned to the ground, struggling to pull free as Proxy's orb moved overhead, its mirror sheen reflecting the sun. Another spear went through its abdomen, and its struggling became much more desperate.
Topple, left arm on Proxy's shoulder, pointed the other towards the heap of slashing metal, producing a wave about half the man's height. It picked the beast up, tumbling it ahead of the crest, before collapsing over it, half-burying it in a mound of turf.
"It's about to get up! Keep peppering it!" Duelist radioed from the chopper high above the football pitch they'd moved to. Proxy obliged, and more steel javelins flung from Proxy's orb rent its body as it rose to its feet. It staggered, but was more prepared now, if damaged.
The final straw was when Topple brought in two more waves around the monster, crushing it between their masses.

"This is Duelist, don't let up yet. It's about to do something... wait, what?"

The wrecked machinery clicked, screeched, banged and whirred, and the pile began to self-assemble. Two piles formed, and Proxy wasted no time in blasting at one of them. It fell apart, and two further piles formed in its wake. Meanwhile, the pile that hadn't been touched was almost fully formed. A smaller, leaner version of the original beast leapt forwards as its final parts clicked into place. Its form was that of a cheetah, except its front feet had large, curved claws, made for maximum traction and deadly potential.

"Oh, fuck."

--

Re-Curse is a powerful tinker with an affinity for autonomous machines that split into pairs. Or more accurately, he makes machines that combine together, then split apart and reform once they sustain enough damage. He tends to go for an animalistic theme but is able to branch out into more conventional-style vehicles such as mechs and drones. Essentially, the longer he's tinkering, the bigger the final combined creation, though the amount of time it takes is approximately exponential for each stage up.