The Big Villains Thread

Looking for a specific villain?  Look HERE for the Villain of the Day Index!

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Villains of the Day:  January 1st, 2nd, and 3rd  (The Undying Husk, The Shattered villain team, and Coagulus, the Living Clot)

We have a thread with heroes out there already; let's make some Villains!  

It occurs to me that, long ago, we had a Villains thread...which is now several pages deep in the forum.  Oh well; new one!

Two of mine from earlier:  

Xu (of Xu's bell) isn't dead.  Nor can she die.  While her physical essence has faded, her role as a Virtuoso of the Void forever ties her to both the material world and to the Nexus of the Void.  And, because Anthony Drake destroyed her bell during the Voss invasion, she can no longer manifest as a true Void-Spirit or provide counsel to the other Virtuosos.  She has been stripped of her one true purpose and denied the sweet release of death.

Now, as an enervated Void-Wraith, The Undying Husk seeks vengeance upon the Argent Adept and any who would dare defile the relics of the past. Her songs are dirges, broken and dissonant; her chants bring ear-splitting pain and misery.  And the horrible silence from her broken bell?  The sound of heartbreak.

...if I'm feeling more ambitious, I might start working towards a "Great Escape" plotline, borrowing heavily from the Crisis on Earth-2 storylines:  the various villains from the shattered timelines, marooned in this reality, decide to band together for self-defense, hoping to acquire/borrow/steal/manipulate enough power to breach the boundaries into a less-defensible reality.  Should they succeed, an entire reality would be at their mercy; all the while, they face the heroes with the challenge, "You wanted to be rid of us, right?  Well, let us go, and you'll never hear from us again..." Enter, The Shattered:

I'm thinking a team-up of Citizens Storm and Dusk, BloodMist (a version of Nightmist who sought additional power from blood magic, rather than the Void), Inferno (a sort-of reverse Absolute Zero, constantly in danger of literally igniting the atmosphere around him), Commander KNYFE (the general-type one, featured in the art on The Letters Page, who mentally commands a legion of subservient KNYFE clones, who provide the group's muscle), and The Reckoner (a version of Chrono-Ranger corrupted by Biomancer's meddling into CON's systems, turned assassin/enforcer).

And one New One:

Biomancer hasn't always restricted his arcane creations to mere flesh.  Rather, the unfortunate runoff from his experimentations has served to be a unique medium unto itself.  The blood, effluvia, and arcane fluids leftover from a legion of homunculi accumulated in the vats below Biomancer's laboratory, awaiting disposal...until it arose.

Biomancer has dubbed his most unique creation as Coagulus, the Living Clot, which serves him as a spy and infiltrator.  In its natural form, Coagulus can slither through the smallest opening, shrugs off most physical attacks, and can literally drown its victims in a flood of half-coagulated plasma.  However, Coagulus can also take the form of any person which went into its creation or any creature with which it shares blood.  In this form, it exists as a perfect spy, able to infiltrate 'real life' with ease...

Coagulus' greatest weakness, however, is also its greatest strength:  its true nature as a creature of blood.  This leaves it particularly susceptible to the use of blood magic, which can both permanently discorporate Coagulus or enthrall it to the blood magic user.  As such, Biomancer kept Coagulus as a great secret--a sleeper agent, hidden as a grand contingency--in the fear that the Blood Countess will overtake his magicks.

I'll repost this character from the "RPG Character Thread" to get all the villains in one place. I'll post a second one latter

The Patchwork Preacher

The ravages of Obliveon left the entire world reeling, but as is always the case in the face of grand disaster, not everyone suffered equally. The poor and the disenfranchised don’t have insurance policies to cover the damage, and not everyone has a local hero team to employ advanced science or magic power to help clear the rubble. There are angry grumbles by some, seeing ivory towers rebuilt while in the shadows there lives are encroached upon by decay.

Those bitter feelings have found someone to give them a voice.

The man known as the Patchwork Preacher lurks in the worst areas of the world. Slums and wastelands where even day to day living has become a problem. His name comes from his appearance and clothing. He is a weather beaten, leathery man with a wild masses of tangled hair and more than a few scars indicating a live hard fought. His clothing is layers and layers of ragged and unwashed clothing, stitched and sewn together into a mess. Bits of leather and cloth and rags giving his silhouette an inhuman quality and making him appear to have much more bulk then his short height would normally convey.

He preaches a message of survival and triumph though misery, how the meek who now suffer shall use that suffering to grow strong and destroy those who have exploited there pain, and he possess a strange, gruff charisma and miraculous powers that has earned him more than a few followers.

The Preacher is a practitioner of Pathomancy, from the Greek Pathos, a form of magic that takes eldritch energy from the emotions of those around him. He can channel his own anger to inflame the emotions of a crowd and make them more receptive to his words. He can, in turn, channel the emotions of others to great effect.

A favorite trick is the creation of Ragged Angels, bits of cloth and junk animated to serve his will, infused with a malign will if not true sentience by the gathered eldritch energy. These servitors can range greatly in form and power, from a broken doll with a knife created from the essence of a word shouted in anger to a junkyard colossus from the channeled hatred of a riot.

The preacher likely has other tricks up his sleeve just waiting to be used, he has not yet confronted any hero directly, but like fungus growing in an open wound the damage caused by OblivAeon has allowed him to grow ever stronger

Villain of the Day:  January 4th  (Rubble)

The destruction that Rook City faced at the hands of OblivAeon turned an already-shattered city into one of ruins.  While Rook City was spared the total annihilation that faced San Alonzo, its art-deco skyscrapers and grotesque-adorned cathedrals were razed, its streets cracked and blood-spattered.

Rook City's emergency crews were stretched particularly thin during the OblivAeon crisis; the police had all but abandoned the streets, leaving all-out anarchy in the streets.  Paramedics Marcus Mannon and Kathryn Cargile were among those that refused to abandon the people of Rook City in their time of need, providing emergency care to trapped individuals and evacuating citizens to safe points outside of the city limits.

That was, however, until the very street collapsed beneath their wheels, plunging their ambulance into the archaic Rook City sewers.  The pair died screaming, drowned by the filth of Rook City in a cage of steel and stone.

But, of course, the chemicals and runoff in Rook City has strange effects at times and, in the presence of the cosmic power of OblivAeon, can bring about phenomenal change.

Rubble rose that day from the wreckage of Rook City:  an animated behemoth of twisted steel and shattered concrete.  Confused and enraged, it lashed out against any who dared approach it.  However, some witnesses claim that the creature speaks on occasion--sometimes with the voice of a middle-aged man, other times as a young woman.  Could it be that Marcus and Kathryn live on, somewhere in the consciousness of Rubble?  And, if that is so, whose consciousness dominates the creature, causing it to lash out so violently?

Villain of the Day:  January 5th  (Cross-Cut)

Elliot Barnes was sure that he was the last man on Earth.  The last thing he remembered seeing was the massive form of OblivAeon, walking away.  When Elliot crawled out from under the wreckage of his Lighthouse Studios office, everything in San Alonzo was naught but smoke and ruin. 

Injured, but not dead, Elliot managed wandered for weeks across the devastated city.  Not once did he even find another living soul.  However, he was determined.  Elliot believed that he was the last of humanity, set to rebuild the world after so many others had failed.

After five weeks of starvation, thirst, and desperation, Elliot managed to find a semi-intact car and decided to head towards the American heartland, hoping to find a farm or such, where he could live out the rest of his days.  After the first hundred miles, he found....a rest stop.  With three gas stations.  And two fast food restaurants.  And a convenience store.  All of which were fully staffed and bustling.

Confused, the grimy, lean Elliot staggered into the convenience store, much to the chagrin of the staff and other patrons.  As he looked up, the tv above the the register was flaring a special news report:  the opening of Freedom Plaza and the institution of the Sentinels of Freedom.  There was Legacy, Tachyon, and all the Freedom Five and their allies--still alive, smiling and cheering.  

Elliot screamed in rage.  And, as he did, everything around him froze.  The counterman stood stock still, his mouth hanging open in alarm.  A female patron froze in mid-step, her right foot never hitting the floor.  Frightened beyond belief, Elliot ran...

Within weeks, Elliot grew to realize:  he could manipulate time in small areas:  speeding it up, slowing it down, or freezing it entirely.  Still enraged that "those heroes let my city die, let my friends and family die!", he christened himself Cross-Cut, a knife-wielding time manipulator who would show the world who those heroes left behind.

Villain of the Day:  January 6th  (The Jigsaw Man)

Mark Harrington was Spite's final victim.  Slashed to ribbons with his gardening shears, The Wraith found him crawling across the paving stones in his gardens, trying to reach his kitchen phone.  The last thing he remembered was the look of failure in her eyes as everything faded to white.  

Harrington awoke, screaming, in his own coffin.  The Rook City coroner did their best, but his body was still covered with rough stitched scars--a closed casket, to be sure.  

After the first hour, he finally stopped screaming and realized that, in fact, he was still alive.  Cold, not breathing, with no pulse, but somehow alive.  In a moment of cognizance, he started to wonder how to escape his six-foot deep tomb.  

Luckily enough for Mark, whatever eldritch force animated him also allowed him a most unique ability.  In addition to the strength and durability of the undead, he found himself able to tear off his body parts, which would act independently in his command.  A few severed fingers were all he needed to claw an opening through the coffin lid, then his two severed hands to dig their way out from his grave-earth.  Eyes would skitter about on tendril-like optic nerves, while his chattering jawbone snapped and clattered.

Mark has gone utterly mad from his death and resurrection.  Vengeance and death are his watchwords now, as The Jigsaw Man brings a new degree of horror to the streets of Rook City.  And The Wraith will surely know his wrath.

Villain of the Day:  January 7th  (Rahm-Tel-Lorn the Ravager)

Rahm-Tel-Lorn the Ravager was born on a backwater world, the son of moisture farmers on the outskirts of a great desert.  Rahm always swore that he'd "make it off this rock, and everyone will respect me, then!"  His parents saw this as nothing more than the foolishness of a ranting teenager, unhappy with his lot in life.  When he stole most of their savings and fled the planet on a scavenger's ship, they were utterly stunned.  How could they have possibly gone so wrong?

If nothing else, Rahm was a poster boy for petulance and greed, taking mercenary jobs on various warring planets and, in between those, exploring rusting hulks in space for salvagable wares.  

On one of those massive hulks, Rahm-Tel-Lorn changed his fate entirely.  Stowed away in the deepest holds of a derelict warship, Rahm found a weapon:  a pulsing orb of living energy he later found to be called the Soul of Paloran.  The Soul of Paloran held the cosmic energy of an entire defunct race--the Paloran energy beings-- which Rahm now wielded with aplomb.  

However, Rahm is nothing if not a selfish, arrogant, childish creature.  He wields massive cosmic power--the ability to absorb and project energy, immense strength and durability, flight, and an ability to catalyze exothermic reactions--but he does so with all the skill, grace, and wisdom of a toddler in mid-tantrum.  He roams from world to world, conquering worlds for their riches and whatever strikes his fancy, then grows bored for further conquests.  He is petulant and immature, but the Soul of Paloran makes him a force that could shake the Multiverse.

Christian Dunmurray was, finally, just as had been predicted so many aweful years ago, a failed actor. The realization struck like a silver hammer destroying what was left of his tenuous pride. When this type of event happens some people rally, they turn themselves towards the future and make efforts to improve themselves. Christian is not one of those people.

In fact, Christian was very much standing at a pit stop on the freeway, looking down at San Alanso and cursing everyone there who had conspired against his "obvious greatness" when OblivAeon arrived. The Shockwave of destruction killed a great many, Christian was struck by the first wave and thrown back against is rustbucket van even with more than an hours drive between him and the massive spectre of doom that now stood like a vengeful god amidst the rubble of the city that had rejected him.

When he saw the second shockwave coming he ran, he as fast as he could and as he ran everything started to get brighter until he could bearely see, then he hit a power pole, and smashed through it. Paramedics found him and rushed the injured christian to the nearest hospital to set bones and help him recover. All the while Christian marveled at where he was, from San Alanso almost to Rook City in the blink of an eye. He decided that if people wouldn't make him rich because of his acting talent, he would use these new powers to take whatever he wanted

After his recovery and some experimentation with his powers BlueShift set about his first few crimes, determined to gain the fame and recognition that was rightfully his.

Villain of the Day:  January 8  (The Sous Chef)

There are many assassins and hired killers in the Multiverse.  And, of course, these guns-for-hire run the gamut from colorful, bombastic would-be villains to individuals you wouldn't bat an eye at if they sat beside you on the subway.  Georges Maillard--The Sous Chef--is just one of the latter.  

A classically trained French chef, Georges is particularly adept at preparations of fish, lamb, and numerous vegetables.  And poison.  And, as one might imagine, his knifework is impeccable.  While he trained at the Ecole de Cuise Alain Ducasse, he *also* trained in the French Special Operations Command, from which he was dismissed, following some disturbing revelations during one of his jobs in Vietnam.

George occasionally takes jobs from The Chairman, but mostly works as an independent operator, taking on jobs that fit within his own schedule and are of particular interest to him.  He charges exorbitant fees for his services--typically in excess of $250,000 per job--but his discretion, his skill, and his shocking rate of success make him an assassin in particular demand.

I see what you did there.

Glad someone caught that one.  It's almost as bad as naming a cold-manipulating character Frost…

This one beggars my imagination a bit.  San Alonzo is based on Hollywood, CA, which is in the middle of hundreds of square miles of suburban Los Angeles sprawl.  It should take a lot less time to reach the edge of the destruction.  Not to mention, I'd guarantee that news crews and relief efforts, including helicopters, would have showed up a lot sooner.

Could be his sanity cracked long before this, and he wasn't able to perceive reality until it was brutally smacked in front of his face. I'm just making this up, but if during that time his brain "edited" his perceptions so that he didn't realize there were others around. (This is something that has happened to people in real situations, unfortunately. ) 

Don't know if this was what was intended, but it could work…

Got it in one, chief. Elliot has seen The Omega Man too many times…

Villain of the Day:  January 9th  (Scrutiny)

"...but you open the envelope, you always open the envelope, for the end of man is to know."

The true identity of the individual(s?) known as Scrutiny is unknown.  Direct face-to-face contact with Scrutiny has not been recorded by any heroes, though several would-be Sentinels of Freedom--particularly individuals for whom a secret identity is sensitive information--claim to have been contacted, with a manila-brown envelope under their door, with any compromising messages or information in simple Times New Roman font.

Scrutiny provides an information databank to villains, pure and simple.  If you have the cash, Scrutiny can tell you what Dana Bertrand had at the Mumbai Tiger lunch buffet earlier this afternoon or what shampoo is in the bathroom of Expatriette and Setback's apartment.  No detail is too insignificant, no information too 'unimportant'--Scrutiny collects it all and, to the right buyer, that information may be the difference between victory and defeat.  

All efforts to track Scrutiny have resulted in dead ends, though a few leads still remain outstanding.  A former Megalopolis reporter and blogger, Shannon Birchold, claimed to have access to an external hard drive which held recorded video, online chats, and contact information for an investigator claiming to be affiliated with Scrutiny in some way...

...that was before Shannon disappeared.

Villain of the Day:  January 10  (Senator Daniel Ellison)

When Senator Daniel Ellison (R-IN) ran for office, he did so on a platform of small government, tax cuts, and "A return to Main Street, America."  Ellison was instrumental in the return of over 30,000 jobs to Indiana during his tenure as Lieutenant Governor, and mediated numerous disputes in both the economic and judicial sectors.  Ellison served two tours of duty with the United States Navy in the 1980s before returning to his hometown, where he joined as a managing partner of the Wenzer's Grocery chain.  Now in his 4th term as a Senator, Ellison sits on several notable standing committees, including both the Appropriations and Small Business/Entrepreneurship committees.  

While many of his critics on the other side of the aisle have criticized Ellison for his personal ties to two major defense firms and an ongoing legal battle with his home state's government regarding a questionable property sale, Ellison's moderate social views have allowed him to retain the incumbancy for his Senate seat for what will likely be a lengthy career.  His skill in business brought him wealth, but his skill as an orator and persuader have made him a formidable political rival.

However, Ellison has one particular target within his sights:  the Sentinels of Freedom.  While he will be the first to thank Legacy and his comrades for their service during the OblivAeon crisis, Ellison is galled by the sheer amount of funding being requisitioned for the new Freedom Plaza, a whole series of superheroic shenanigans, and a number of other high-cost items associated with maintaining the Sentinels, who effectively perform without any finite government oversight.  Ellison is quick to note the unchecked, "blank-book" spending at Fort Adamant, citing the lack of financial and ethical oversight by General Armstrong as nothing more than a precursor to the several trillion dollar price tag on the Sentinels of Freedom. And, as vice-chair of the Senate Appropriations Committee, Ellison is well-situated to create a massive bureaucratic entanglement, capable of shuttering the doors on Freedom Plaza.  

Could it possibly be that the Sentinels fall not to a villain or an alien invasion, but to red tape?

– Date, 1.10. 11th year after capture

— Enclosed encrypted transmission of Commandant Luctiena Ferr-ihm's personal log

---- It has been three days since we managed to secure our freedom. We have been imprisoned in this place since being captured by the human unit called the Freedom Five.  Some type of massive explosion in the human city west of us just out of the mountains disrupted our captors. Our force has apparently been held in this secret underground prison until some cataclysmic event disrupted it enough to allow nearly 30 of my men to escape and reacquire weapons. Because of the collapse of the entrance and the lack of human response they were able to slowly conquer the base and free me to reestablish command and gain access to encrypted QuantiCom channels. Of the nearly twenty six authority squads detained as prisoners of war in this camp I am the only surviving comandant. The others either did not reawaken from stasis or perished of injuries during their detainment. Many squads had to be combined to form proper units and I assigned the most experienced leaders available as temporary authorities beneath me until proper Commandants can be found for them.

Once I was reawakened restoring order to the platoon was difficult but it has been accomplished. and we've managed to reacquire and reassemble most of our weapons. The humans were disecting them in a wise, but ill fated attempt to duplicate our superior weaponry. I have taken to using digging out the collapsed entrances to our new opperations center and reassebling weapons as punishment in lieu of the usual lashes. It may not instil as much fear of failure but it has been more useful of late.

I have also, thanks to the prodigious library of the instilations original commander, taken to studying ancient human commanders and warriors, the Philosophies of Sun Tsu, Genghis Khan, and Hannibal have been of particular insight. I have also studied the stories of many humans trapped behind enemy lines, the stories of these sorts are plentiful and held with reverence by the historians involved. Humans seem to have a blind spot in rooting for the "Underdog". Though it feels strange to empathise with dissidents, let alone humans, these stories have been comforting in their similarity to our situation.

Because of my study of them, I now believe though it pains me to say it, that Grand Warlord Voss underestimated these humans. I will await punishement for that sentiment as well as orders from High Command as we fortify our position and ensure it remains secret. If we have not recieved orders by the time the entrance has been cleared we will begin conducting a geurilla war against this world in an effort to acquire enough tech to construct a ship to return to Dok'Thorath.

If the Humans hold this type of story in reverance that will be my greatest weapon against them. I will take a name for myself from their own languages. I will raid their military instilations and burn their science facilities to the ground; all the while their own communications network will spread tales of my last stand in a foreign land and my heroic attempts to lead my people home. I swear on the banner of my soverign, their fractious governments will tremble at the warcries of Peregrivox and her Thousand, while their own people cheer for my victory.

—end playback

Villain of the Day:  January 11th  (Nimbus)

Augie Emmanuel always had his nose in a book.  Even in elementary school, he could be found in the scienc section of the library, reading up on inventors from throughout history.  While he admired the likes of Newton, Franklin, and da Vinci, he reserved his deepeest admiration for Nikolai Tesla.  Borderline fixated on the eccentric inventor, Augie saw Tesla as something of a kindred spirit--both "misunderstood geniuses" who were never appreciated in their own time.  Never mind that Augie was barely a high-school junior and could barely pass high school chemistry; he knew his own worth, even if no one else would recognize his greatness.

When he was rejected for his school's quiz bowl team--citing his lack of effort in his coursework--Augie snapped.  He'd show them!  He'd show them all!  His frustration and entitlement knew no bounds as Augie took to his 'workshop' (i.e. his parents' garage) to exact his revenge, by completing one of Teslas's forgotten experiments and wreak his vengeance all across the cafeteria.  

He didn't get far.  HIs prototype exploded in his backyard, which was investigated by the authorities.  When they saw what he had been planning, Augie was arrested on domestic terrorism related charges, whereupon he was sentenced as an adult to 4 years in prison.

Augie simmered in a white-collar, medium-security prison...until the day he was visited by a mysterious man with an equally mysterious offer.  He could offer Augie the chance to exact his revenge, to be the genius he was destined to be:  a chance to do all the things he truly 'deserved'.  All he had to do was sign on the proverbial dotted and agree to a few 'future tasks'.

When Augie returned to James Madison Memorial Prep School, it was not in his normal black t-shirt and jeans.  Rather, now it was in his new identity:  Nimbus, complete with Tesla-Coil gauntlets and his Electro-Static Discharge Harness....all courtesy of his mysterious benefactor.

I just wanna say this thread is really great!

At first I thought Christian was going to mistakenly believe he had somehow caused OblivAeon to destroy San Alonso and that would largely inform his character.  You could probably make a hero with that idea who is trying to do good to atone for the suffering they think they caused.

I'm a little confused about BlueShift's powers from this description.  Is he a speedster, or does he teleport, or is it something else?  Will he always travel large distances without realizing it, or is that just because he isn't used to it yet?

He is a speedster. He was just shocked because it was the first time he'd ever done that & didn't really have time to think between OblivAeon and the sudden power pole. When you move above a certain speed the Doppler effect starts to apply light & that's why he couldn't see, everything got brighter cause it was blueshifting. Which is where got his name and is also the extent to which he understands the concept. He would have to train and push himself to hit that speed again(fear is a hell of a motivator) He is very dangerous because he lacks the scientific mind that Tachyon or even to a lesser extent friction had that allowed them to minimize their effects on the stuff around them. He will decide he wants coffee, jet off to get some & go back to where he was. & that's the extent to which he cares about the event, he has his coffee now. but the people he pushed past on the sidewalk are severely hurt & the door to the coffee shop has to be repaired because at his speed he tore it off the hinges on his way out. Tachyon is careful with her powers, Friction while a villain was more focused on what she wanted, Christian just kinda… does stuff.

That hero idea is pretty swanky, maybe a teleporter who leaves just before OblivAeon arrives and is now wrestling with survivors guilt or something, 

Also i have to go back through cause rereading it i noticed some spelling/punctuation errors i missed. lol

Villain of the Day:  January 12th--Missy the Maw

Melissa Akins was meant to be a sacrifice.  A loner by nature, Melissa--or, Missy, as her book club called her--had few friends and would while away the hours reading books in her local Harbucks Coffee shop.  Captured by the Cult of Gloom while on break from Overbrook University, Melissa was abducted fand went missing for 6 days, and was the subject of a feverish manhunt.  

During that time, Melissa was awash with emotions.  Despair, abject terror, stern resolution....then, finally, something of a strange admiration.  These strange, hooded cultists were just like her, only they knew something she did not.  They knew the truth of the universe.  Within the span of 72 hours, Melissa dropped into acute Stockholm Syndrome, even convincing her captors to allow her free roaming of their secret compound and asking numerous questions about their planned ritual.

The ritual, roughly translated from the Sumerian, was known as "Call Forth the Devourer of the Living".  In actuality, it would have summoned Valifar the Ever-Hungry, a lesser servitor of GloomWeaver and denizen of the Realm of Discord.  Even as the cultists began their chant and made their first incision into Melissa's belly, the girl was smiling.  She was part of something greater.

That's when the heroes burst in.  With Valifar only partially summoned, the ritual was disrupted.  Melissa howled in protest as the "heroes" handily defeated her new friends and unchained her from the altar.  However, something was very off...

The interruption to the cultists' spell had left Valifar trapped between the worlds, with his great devouring mouth manifest in the gaping incision in Melissa's lower torso.  Where her intestines and other organs would be, now lay the opening to an eternity of pain, digesting slowly in Valifar's infinite bowels.  That incision flapped open like a toothy mouth unto itself, able to chew through anything and send the remains to feed her symbiotic demon ally.  Valifar could even use Melissa to project toothed, tentacular tongues which could grapple, rip, and rend...making it all the easier for Missy the Maw to feast.

Now?  Missy the Maw seeks out other cultists of Gloom eager to bring about a darker world.  And with Valifar infesting her gut, she need never be alone again...

That is terrifying, well done. D:

Villain of the Day: January 13. (Entropos)

All things end. Entropos aches to make the end come faster.

Once a phenomenally powerful alien being, claiming to be a deity of death and carnage, a team of ancient cosmic warriors managed to fight Entropos to a standstill, then fling him within the event horizon of two colliding black holes. Entropos was torn apart by immeasurable gravitic forces, his screams echoing across the universe.

But, an ancient cosmic being of destruction thrown into an all-consuming mass? Much akin to throwing Brer Rabbit into the briar patch.

Entropos has only grown in both size and power. The colliding black holes are now his to control, and the universe will quake with fear as the last few atoms vibrate out of existence.

Villain of the Day:  January 14th (Max Justice)

Maximilian Juszkiewicz has always been a self-aggrandizing, self-promoting punk.  In high-school, he was an all-star, double-lettered athlete (foot ball and basketball), who could have easily had his choice of college athletic scholarships.  But that wasn't enough for him; Max wanted more.  His selfish personality came off as a major negative with his would-be coaches, and he ended up at a local community college, lacking any options.

If anything, that seemed to make Max even more arrogant--taking classes with adult students looking to enhance their lives and part-time students hoping to complete a degree, Max simply thought of himself as "better" than his classmates, often skipping group projects and presentations and, as one might predict, failing out.  Even as he met with the dean, his attitude of arrogance and entitlement meant that the college skipped over its usual probationary and rehabilitation period in favor of simply letting Max out on his own.

That was the last straw for Max's parents.  They kicked him out of the house, leaving him to juggle part-time jobs in order to make ends meet in a studio apartment on the outskirts of Megalopolis.  Max could hardly keep even these jobs, with his glory-hogging arrogance causing more than one firing.

Not long after?  A mysterious stranger appeared on Max's doorstep.  Claiming to be a fan of his high-school athletics, it quickly became apparent that this benefactor had something of an offer:  "How would you like to be a superhero?"  

With a new super-suit granting him flight, energy projection, strength, and durability, Max was one of the first entrants into the Sentinels of Freedom program under the name Max Justice.  And, as you might predict, he was the first (and only) individual kicked out of the program.  The Freedom Five and their fellow trainers simply had no patience for his attitude, his unwillingness to help his compatriots, and his tendency to showboat.  Since that day, Max has sworn that he'll be "a better hero than they ever were!"  While he has yet to actually do much heroic, he continually provides interference and aggravation for any new heroes as part of the Sentinels of Freedom program.

First Nimbus, and now Max Justice. Someone is passing out super-tech to those unfit to weild it...

Hmmm…it's almost like I'm building up a series of campaign seeds right there… 

On July 23rd, 2018, an enormous monster rampaged through Megalopolis, utterly destroying a diner, a jewerly store, and a post office and severely damaging several other buildings.  The heroes converged rapidly and managed to prevent any loss of life, but the monster managed to elude capture and disappeared into the nearby wilderness.  The fight carried the heroes away from the destroyed jewerly store, and when order was restored several valuable pieces were missing, including a ring set with a small brilliantly blue sapphire.

The beast was nearly 10 ft tall at the shoulder, with 3 pairs of legs (all different, none matching Earth animals), enormous feathered wings, a triply forked tail covered with poison spines, and a face best described as a combination of a cat and a snake.  Which breathed fire.  The media dubbed it The Manticore

The Manticore reappeared three weeks later, this time destroying a theater, several office buildings, and the Megalopolis Natural History Museum.  The MNHM was a particular tragedy as many priceless artifacts were utterly destroyed, including a diadem with a small dazzlingly red ruby.

Two weeks after that The Manticore struck again, terrorizing the Freedom Plaza.  This time no buildings were destroyed, but a young man was hospitalized in critical condition.  He has been accepting his boyfriend's proposal when the monster appeared and was greviously injured while protecting his fiance.  The ring, a silver band with a small luminously green emerald, was not recovered.  Once again, the Manticore escaped almost entirely unscathed.

Over the next several months, the Manticore struck at a number of different cities, causing destruction and escaping with only minor wounds.  The heroes have observed no intelligence greater than that of a clever animal, and no pattern has been found to the attacks.  But just because the heroes have not observed these things does not mean that they are not there…

Villains of the Day:  January 15th (Vortigern of Kent)

In the annals of Arthurian lore, figures like Lancelot, Galahad, and Guinevere have echoed through the centuries through legend and story.  Alongside Arthur himself, these figures have been ushered into the cultural landscape.  Vortigern, in the meanwhile?  Little more than a bit player, notable only for medieval scholars and literature professors.

In the early Middle Ages, Vortigern was a warlord in what is now modern-day Wales, who led native Welsh, Picts, and Celts against Arthur's rising court at Camelot.  The scholar William of Malmesbury described Vortigern as "a man calculated neither for the field nor the council, but wholly given up to the lusts of the flesh, the slave of every vice:  a character of insatiable avarice, ungovernable pride, and polluted by his lusts..."  and was added to William's "damnatio memoriae", being noted as a "superbus tyrannus".

However, one of his gradiose 'conquests' proved to be Vortigern's downfall.  After the attempted abduction of Sevira, the daughter of a powerful arcanist known only as Maxiumus Magnus, Arthur and his knights confronted Vortigern in a place of great power:  the Pillar of Eliseg.  There, Magnus wrought a great enchantment upon Vortigern, casting the knave into a an abyssal portal and purging him from the land...

For what seemed like ages--and yet no time at all--Vortigern plunged through time, his body awash with cosmic energy and eldritch sorcery.  Finally, at long last, the portal deposited him just outside of Megalopolis.

Vortigern has taken to this brave new world with abandon and, while still slow to adjust to modern sensibilities, he sees the area as ripe for the picking.  His greed, his lust, and his desires know no bounds.  His ensorcelled armor and battle-axe--permeated with power from his temporal displacement--grant him a phenomenal strength and durability, as well as a blade capable of slicing through steel girders.  While he has little in the way of grandiose plots or villainous schemes short of taking the things he desires, Vortigern has become a force to be reckoned with in this modern era.

Villain of the Day:  January 16th  (Heist)

Nathan Whitaker stole his first item at age 5.  Mind you, it was only a candy bar and his mother caught him almost immediately, but the thrill he got--the look on the convenience store owner's face, the reaction from his mother--had him hooked from the very outset.

Throughout his childhood and teenage years, items simply seemed to disappear whenever Nathan was around.  Sometimes he was caught, though most times, Nathan absconded with his prizes scot-free, leaving him with his ill-gotten gains and a knowing smirk.  Wallets full of cash, the occasional bracelet or necklace, lab equipment from his high school; the actual item never seemed to matter to Nathan, simply the thrill of the theft.

It was the lab equipment--sold at a local pawn shop--that got Nathan sent to juvenile detention.  He spent most of his sophomore year in high school in juvie, after which he elected to go to a local career/technology center to finish his diploma, rather than return to a more traditional school.  From that day, Nathan swore:  no one would ever catch him again...he'd start with a mask.

While not a technological savant by any stretch, Nathan graduated with high marks and attended a technical school, focusing on security and audio-visual systems.  By day, he works at for Padlock Home Security systems as a hardware analyst.  In his spare time, though, Nathan's knowledge went to use under his masked identity, Heist.  Nathan's expertise allowed him access to high-security vaults, aided him in disabling cameras and security systems, and provided him the greatest thrill of his life.

Now, Heist provides infiltration and theft services to the highest bidders.  He continues to work at his day job as a cover, though his skill in thievery and tresspassing has made him notably wealthy.  Ever prudent, Heist has reinvested these funds into new technologies to aid him in his thefts, allowing him to take on bigger, more secure targets with ease.  The money's a nice perk, but it pales before the thrill of the Heist.

Villain of the Day: January 17th. (The Leech)

Denny Maroni was a low-level thug in The Organization for years, shaking down store owners and restaraunteurs for protection money. While loyal to his compatriots, he gained something of a reputation for always being short on cash when buying food, going out for drinks, or otherwise sharing the tab. His friends somewhat good-naturedly started calling him The Leech, as a not so subtle reminder for him to stop mooching.

During Oblivaeon, however, Denny found the biggest score of his life: fleeing from the destruction in central Rook City, he found a tiny oblivaeon shard lodged in his suv tire. Picking it out, he was flooded with power... and hunger.

Denny no longer eats in the traditional sense. Rather, he steals away the life essence of anyone he touches, draining them away like a leech. He has an especial fondness for superhumans, whose powers he can temporarily commandeer after snacking on them. And now, Denny is rising through the ranks of the organization, swiftly becoming one of Chairman Pike's favored lieutenants...

Villain of the Day:  January 18th  (Shard)

Naomi Zechmann didn't ask for powers.  On a spring-break beach trip with friends near San Alonzo, Naomi's powers first manifested, swirling the gorgeous beach sand into stinging siroccos that she was absolutely unable to control.  While law enforcement officers--with a timely assist from Benchmark--managed to take Naomi into custody, it quickly became apparant that she was out of her league.  Sixteen people were injured--none killed, surprisingly--though two of Naomi's sorority sisters suffered severe injuries.

That's when her lawyer arrived.  At least, he claimed to be her lawyer.  The sallow, middle-aged man smiled in a manner that seemed almost predatory.  "Let me be clear, I'm not an attorney.  At least, not anymore.  However, I do still represent certain governmental interests which hire exclusively metahuman candidates."

Mister Doe--John Doe, as it turned out--left with Naomi that very night, driving her to a helipad which flew to a distant facility full of armed guards, military hardware, and many scowling faces.  At this point, Naomi knew she was in over her head:  "Look, sir, I don't think this is a job I really want...  But, by then, it was all too late.  A swift injection and several months of mental manipulation and brainwashing later, the job was hers.

Eight months after Naomi Zechmann disappeared, Shard made her first appearance.  Able to mentally control silicates--most notably sand and glass--Shard was reported as having been sighted in the Middle Eastern dictatorship known as Kerplachistan.  The Kerplechistani dictator, Colonel Qadir al-Awkil, was found deceased in a stream near the border with Turkmenistan, his body and the bodies of his entourage impaled by numerous shards of glass, presumably from the windows of al-Awkil's state car.  She has been suspected in the assassination of several notable targets--university professors, political dissidents, and other "undesirables", however none have been able to catch or detain the elusive elementalist.  IN all cases, her methods are beyond lethal and she has proven to be a capable combatant in numerous methods of combat, especially in unarmed melee, to say nothing of her metahuman abilities.

There is no more Naomi Zechmann.  Or, at least, if there is, she's so far buried within her own subconsciousno one will ever find her again.  For now, all that remains is a Shard.

Villain of the Day:  January 19th (The Conquerer Worm)

The evolution of life is a fickle thing:  while hominids sprouted up, evolvinng from austolopithicus to homo sapiens in a mere 3 million years, certain fish and reptile species have effectively halted any changes, existing in relatively the same state for tens of millions of years.  Among those 'static' species are the various annelids:  earthworms, leeches, ragworms, and their ilk.  

Entomologist Thomas Streed spent his life examining these curious creatures, exploring their evolutionary roots and their unique regenerative properties, in the hopes to unlock the genetic mysteries found within.  He never made it that far.

You see, in addition to his research labs at Connecticut State University--Megalopolis, Thomas also held a massive worm farm in the basement below his house.  Originally a dirt-floored root cellar, Thomas transformed his basement into a makeshift lab and breeding facility, often selling batches of worms to farmers and arborists to help aerate soil and aid in fertilization.  All told, the number of annelids found in Thomas' house likely tallied into the hundreds of thousands, if not millions.

When authorities found Thomas' body, it lay in the midst of his shattered breeding tanks, his bones stripped of all flesh and tissue.  Immediately, police began investigating this strange murder, but no weapon, suspect, or motive was found.  The only clue?  Nearly every worm in Thomas' breeding program had disappeared.

Several months later, the creature known as The Conquerer Worm first appeared.  A rag-clad figure, made up entirely of writhing, dripping annelids, menaced amusement park-goers at the Seven Pennants over Megalopolis, injuring several individuals and destroying several attractions at the park.  Heroes arrived on scene and engaged the creature briefly, only for the creature to discorporate into a mass of worms, burrowing away into the earth and effectively vanishing.  Witnesses to a Conquerer Worm incident claim that the creature has demonstrated higher intelligence, even speaking to certain individuals.  It claims that it has come to "rectify the genetic aberration that is homo sapiens" and return this marble Earth to its primal, prehistoric roots.  

As a man-sized swarm of annelids, The Conquerer Worm is particularly difficult to damage or capture.  It is capable of discorporating and recorporating at will, as well as swiftly burrowing through the earth itself.  Engaging it in melee is not advised, as its blows are capable of draining blood, leaving a would-be assailant weaker and weaker as a fight goes on.  No one knows what brought The Conquerer Worm to sentience--Akash'Thriya/Akash'Darsha claims no knowledge of such a being--but rest assured, the creature will not stop until mankind is laid low.

@PlatinumWarlock How long do you plan on keeping this Villain of the Day going?  Because I'm loving it!

As someone who knows nothing about GMing, how would you go about introducing this information to your players?

I was originally planning on one month–31 villains/teams total–though if there's demand, I'd be willing to go longer.  Much of it depends on my own writing schedule.  I've been doing these on my lunch break at work, which is a good time for it, but I'm about to start at least 3 major freelance writing gigs (including one that I'm really jazzed about, for a different game company), plus I'm prepping my own convention scenarios for Cold Steel Wardens and my currently-in-draft De Civitates Dei.  It's a lot to do, but this is a fun writing exercise and doesn't take too much time–just some creative energy.

As for introducing this within the context of a game, there are a number of different approaches you could take:

1. Direct confrontation.  The most simple--and the most lacking nuance--you could simply have a villain show up specifically to confront the heroes.  The classic variation on this is to "interrupt" the villain in the midst of performing a crime.  The heroes get called to a strange incident, an alarm goes off directing the heroes to the local bank or science lab, or an explosion goes off across town.
2. Investigation.  Many of these seeds are meant to foster investigation--the heroes stumble upon some crime with more questions attached to it than answers and start to piece together what's gone on over time before confronting the villain, whereupon their true identity/nature is exposed.  This can be done in a single session or stretch over an entire campaign, depending on the level of the villain.  For villains like Max Justice, Shard, and Nimbus, that means continual encounters with them, in the hopes to eventually unmask the mysterious Mr. Doe who's behind all of their doings.  
3. Rivalry.  Characters that straddle that 'anti-hero' line are great for this, but even outright villains can work well here, as they might continually show up in adventures specifically to target various PC heroes.  Whether linked in their backstory or not, simple desires such as revenge, jealousy, and pettiness are all emotions that can serve as a villain's driving force.  In these cases, the villains go after the heroes, not the other way around, which can put the players on their heels.
4. Conspiracy.  The most complex way to introduce these villains blends all three of these techniques, but also adds in its own complexity.  The Shattered, above, is a way to go about structuring this.  The villains all seem to have disparate goals, prompting hero investigation which, itself, is stymied by the disparate nature of the crimes.  Only as they start piecing together the overarching villainous plot can the heroes actively take the fight to their foes; much of the campaign would structure around finding out the Ws:  who, what, when, where, and why.

Working on this one for the last few days. Apparently the day of the bug-themed villain. :P

Neville Norwood has always hated people. He's hated them since childhood, a rocky family life with parents that hated one another and a steady string of schoolyard bullies planting seeds that just dug deeper and deeper into him as he grew. Craving an escape he poured himself into his studies and interests, educating himself far past his current class . He enjoyed science and physics just fine, but it was namely the study of bugs that brought him the most joy and kept him sane through his youth and well into adulthood. There was just something about the world of insects that fascinated him.

After graduating college at the head of his class, the now Dr. Norwood got a job at the Eaken-Rubendall Laboratory as the head of their small yet advanced Entomology Department, studying the effects that 'extra-terrestrial energies' had on the habitats of the insect kingdom. Just as he was on the verge of a massive breakthrough after years of research, the OblivAeon attacked occurred. The resulting tremors threw Neville into the insect habitat being bombarded with a mixture of different energies...

- - -

Many of the science labs in and around Megalopolis have been on high alert in recent months. Reports of a “half-human, half-bug like creature” attacking and ransacking facilities with swarms of insects has caused increased security measures, but nonthing seems to be able to stop what the media has dubbed The Hive. One fact has been taken away from these assaults: it does not like humans, and does not leave prisoners...

Villain of the Day:  January 20th (The Survivalist)

Jerome Pressler Albright was utterly sure that the world was going to end.  When Democrat Marion Thurmer announced her candidacy for president--the first black female presidential candidate and, later, president--he was livid.  "Them bleeding heart, tax-happy snowflakes are gonna be the death of us all!" he loudly proclaimed to anyone who'd listen, often shouting over the omnipresent FIXNEWS broadcast on his tv.  

Now, Jerome wasn't a particularly wealthy man, but if he knew one thing, it was certainly how to make do with what he's got.  Over his years managing a sporting goods store, he had squirrelled away thousands of dollars and had wholesale access to firearms, camping supplies, k-rations, and numerous other necessities to live off the grid.  And, that, in fact, was his very plan.

When Marion was elected president, Jerome closed his store in Megalopolis.  He liquidated the majority of his assets and set out for the farthest place he could think of:  the volcanic jungles of Insula Primalis.  While his first few weeks on Insula Primalis were somewhat difficult, Jerome managed to transform a portion of the now-ruined Citadel of the Sun into something of a home base, arming and trapping it with means both mechanical and environmental.  Over the weeks and months since then, Jerome has gone from a slightly-overweight middle-aged store owner with some extreme political views, transforming himself into a fit hunter, an expert shot, and a devious tactical mind.

When others started approaching him--usually either seeking asylum or his services--he was quick to chase them off of Insula Primalis, often with bullet wounds or velociraptor bites to show for their troubles.  Jerome started gaining notoriety as The Survivalist--the one man capable of living in the most dangerous place on earth.  However, certain villains have noted that, if you approach Jerome with the right motivations--or, perhaps, with the right-wing motivations, as the case may be--he is willing to leave his island to assist with various tasks, regardless of the legality or morality.  And, with the skills he's gained in Insula Primalis, The Survivalist has become a capable foe indeed.

Villain of the Day:  January 21 (Impound)

Jamal Regan always seemed set for good things, but luck always seemed to fall short for him.  As a senior in high school, he was a star wide receiver on his football team...only to tear his MCL during his senior year, pretty much thwarting any chance of him getting an athletic scholarship.  Instead of heading to a four-year college, he ended up at a local technical school for auto repair.  On graduation day there, his own car broke down, causing him to miss his own graduation ceremony.  As an entry level mechanic, Jamal worked for six months, doing a reasonable job...until one of the lifts used to hold up a pick-up truck collapsed.  Jamal was shoved out of the way by one of his fellow mechanics, but not before the bumper slammed into the back of his head, knocking him cold.

Jamal was discharged from the hospital several days later--he had a head contusion and a concussion, but none the worse for wear.  Unfortunately, the damage to his body shop was too much for the owner to cope with, and the shop closed for business, leaving Jamal unemployed.  Frustrated and growing angry at his position in the world, Jamal took out a loan and bought a tow truck, opening his own towing business.

On a dark night along Interstate 572, Jamal was in the midst of picking up an abandoned minivan to take to a police impound lot.  A grey Lexus, its driver distracted by some important text message, crossed the line into the rumble strip and plowed directly into rear of the minivan, thrusting the entire tow rig straight at Jamal, who raised his arms in front of his face in reflex...

....only to project a bubble of telekinetic force around the entire approaching rig.  With a grunt of effort, Jamal shoved the entire mass away from him.  The driver of the Lexus, angry and dazed, stepped out of his car and attempted to get into Jamal's face, only for Jamal to throw up another telekinetic bubble and start squeezing.  The driver backed off in a panic, eventually taking the full fault of the accident, leaving Jamal with a significant payout.

With some hospital-mandated time on his hands and no tow-rig, thanks to the accident, Jamal found himself in a rare position:  both time and money on his hands.  He began experimenting with the scope of his powers:  he could form bubbles of telekinetic force around objects, which he could then move, expand, or contract.  Each day, he grew stronger and stronger in his abilities...and began to question, "Why can't I have something better out of life?  This shows me that I could..."

A costume was easy to piece together:  a mask, some body armor, some boots.  ATMs were easy pickings--Impound simply wrapped a bubble around the machine and tore it free of the wall, crushing it until it dispensed its greenbacks.  Armored cars came next, though Jamal did his best not to leave any lasting harm to the drivers.  His first bank vault was deceptively simple, though the second managed to get Impound on the heroes' radar.  A skirmish with two new hero recruits from the Sentinels of Freedom led him to new full identity:  that of a supervillain.  Scared and facing down both two metahuman heroes and the police, Impound grappled one of those heroes--an energy projector named Pulsar--in one of his bubbles, squeezing Pulsar until bones started snapping.  Impound fled in all haste, leaving Pulsar's partner and the police to care to the severely injured hero.

Impound may be greedy, but he has a predisposition against real violence.  While he'll do his best to defend himself, he knows the lethality of his powers and loathes to unleash his abilities unless he's truly pressed.  And if he is?  He can easily leave a string of bodies in his wake.

Villain of the Day:  January 22 (The Swarm)

If the Gene-Bound forces of Grand Warlord Voss' Thorathian military are the galaxy's most feared legion, the creatures that originated on Nibiru-IV stand right alongside Voss' forces among the most destructive species in the known Multiverse.

Many studies have been performed on the Nibiru-IV species, often referred to collectively as The Swarm, though few xenobiologists have come to consensus on exactly *what* The Swarm are.  Comparisons have been made to locusts, sea-dwelling arthropods such as mantis shrimp, and even the infamous camel spider.  Because of their rapid breeding and gestation, any individual creature in The Swarm may differ greatly:  some spew digestive enzymes onto foes, others may have barbed pincers or thrashing tails, while still others exude noxious gases and spores.  

While their individual forms differ, all Swarm creatures do have a few common traits:  they have spined, chitinous exoskeletons which shield them both against damage and against incredible pressure; they do not breathe which, in conjunction with their exoskeletons, can allow them to venture into the depths of the ocean and even into space; and they are omnivorous, eating any and all organic matter, though they actively prefer flesh.

The heroes of Earth have yet to actually directly encounter The Swarm in its full force.  Occasional refugees to the Maenarian Compound on Plavu'Col have made claims that their homeworlds have been decimated by The Swarm, and the Wagner Mars Base currently contains 4 cryogenically frozen Swarm eggs, recovered from a Swarm-annihilated ship by a former agent of FILTER.

One the thing that The Swarm has not yet demonstrated is intelligence.  While individual creatures are little more than drones, the most advanced Swarm creature barely shows more intelligence than a wild pig or a poorly trained dog.  But, with their rapid breeding and evolution, how long will it be until a hive-mind starts to emerge.

OblivAeon had been vanquished, too many great heroes lost their lives to save everyday people from him. Not even simply the super heroes, but anyone who stepped between danger and their fellow man. Still though, one loss was felt more keenly than a great many others. Ra! God of the sun. During these the months after OblivAeon's defeat a new presence was felt, helping rebuild, helping people to stand strong as the gods of old did their world was threatened.

This new Cult of Ra spread the word that all should be counted on to do what they could to make the world ready for the return of the Gods. Paradoxically they were not followers of old religious studies from egypt, but a new cult, spreading themselves far and wide. Due to Ra's noble sacrifice and the gentle message they openly preached they recieved more and more followers every day. However, there was something more to the cult than meets the eye.

Initially they were simply trying to live up to what they saw as their duty, repairing the world. Then with the sudden death of their founder and rise of the newest Regent, as they call their leader, the cult took a more dire turn. They began congregating the most devout followers in a western town where the Regent owned land. There in Truth or Consequences in a building overlooking the Military memroial they started building large obelisks with mirrors set on the top. Echoing chanting could be heard day and night, prompting local law enforcement to take notice of the cults increasingly erratic behavior. It was a fiasco, with high level clerics of the new cult projecting gouts of strange black and white flames at them driving people back. After setting up a cordon to keep civilians away from the Regent's home they set up remote monitoring with some help. Satilite images, telescopic observation everything pointed at some kind of massive ritual. In the chaos after oblivaeon none of the heroes could be promptly reached for help; and on the third day the ritual reached it's climax.

Each of the three obelisks fired beams of collected sunlight at the memorial, striking each point of the star with radiant power while the wild chanting reverberated throughout the valley. A massive explosion of Light and Flame created a shroud of smoke and when it finally settled a figure could be seen. Tall Dark skinned the figure stood in the center of the pentagram formed by the walkways of the memorial. The regent approached and knelt before him, prooffering a staff and crown. When the Regent arose the figure turned towards the ritual site on the hill, then both men and the entire complex were engulfed and seemingly consumed by the same strange flames. Bystanders reported that the figure seemed to look a lot like the fallen hero Ra, but something was off. However, now the cult has been seen around in a more aggressive role, Destroying religeous sites of other faiths. Burning them to the ground with the same strange fires.

Emotions are still riding high, and many heroes have not truly had any time to properly mourn their friend. Even if they manage to locate this new threat, will they have the heart to fight and possibly destroy, Effigy

Villain of the Day: January 23 (Strain H572-B, aka The Superflu)

Lady Lightning was the first to contract it. A rising star in the Sentinels of Freedom, Corrin Hankinson was born with powers, able to direct, control, and manipulate electricity. Her parents were supportive, yet tried to give her as normal a life as possible, while simultaneously encouraging her to use her powers for the good of everyone. When Freedom Plaza opened its doors to new recruits, she was one of the first in line.

Three weeks later, Corrin took an excused absence from her coursework to visit the medical bay. She had been running a 102 degree fever and felt logy, tired, and out of sorts. Worse, her electricity powers were waning significantly. While typically able to generate several gigawatts of power at a moment’s notice, she found herself barely able to function at half her normal capacity.

While her first and second visit to the medbay offered only cursory advice – rest up, drink plenty of fluid, etc.–Doctor Jeremiah Melville, one of the staff physicians at Freedom Plaza was the first to make the connection between a certain antigen in Corrin’s bloodstream and her waning powers. A variation on the influenza virus, H572-B actively sought out the genetic material which provided her metahuman abilities.

Corrin was immediately put into quarantine, but the damage was done. Four other recruits were also infected, including two that were identified Omegas. The group is still in quarantine, watching their powers dwindle away to nothing as days pass. The Superflu, as the news programs called it, had struck. Was this the end of the superhero as we knew it?

Melville, however, knows something that few outside the Freedom Five are aware of: H572-B was a man-made virus. Someone has deliberately released a pathogen capable of targeting-- and potentially outright neutralizing-- anyone with metahuman abilities. And Freedom Tower was only their first target…

Villain of the Day: January 24 (Cacaphonus)

The Void has always been sensitive to harmonic vibrations. It’s why the Virtuoso of the Void has typically been – at least in our reality --an expert musician. Harmony moves through the Void more easily, shaping its energies like a conductor directing an orchestra.

But what happens to those notes out of tune? Those off-beat rhythms that don’t form a true spell effect?

For eons, they simply bounced around inside the infinite possibilities of the Void. The Void spirits there paid them no heed and we, on the material plane, were none the wiser.

That is, until a singular void spirit realized that power lay in those dissonant chords. Eagerly, hungrily, it began seeking out those energies, feasting upon them and growing stronger with each note. And then, one day, it broke free.

The Void spirit first appeared in a small town in Nebraska, inhabiting a trucker eating lunch at a diner. It lashed out with power, draining the jukebox of all its sonic power before racing off in the trucker’s rig, causing a massive traffic foul up along interstate 590.

However, it wasn’t until the heroes showed up that the true problem emerged. One of the Sentinels of Freedom recruits that showed up was BoomBox, a sound projector from Megalopolis. His powers called to the Void Spirit like a siren song and out quickly abandoned the trucker for more viable prey. To all appearances, the conflict was over, though BoomBox had an unexpected rider on his psyche.

That night, a psychic battle ensued in BoomBox’s mind. Though he put up a good fight, the Void spirit took over his body and escaped into the night. And now, Cacaphonus was free to orchestrate his own symphony of destruction…

Villain of the Day:  January 25  (Haephestus)

Irving Healey isn't a bad guy.  Really.  

A technological savant, Irving whizzed through high school, college, and numerous advanced degrees all before he turned 25.  His quick mind, his near-photographic memory, and his ease in processing made design come as naturally to Irving as breathing.  If anything, he grew impatient with the prototyping process as, by the time one of his designs was finally created, he'd already designed a plethora of changes, redesigns, and implementations for that very design.

With degrees, designs, and months of field experience in hand, Irving found himself something of a hot commodity within the mechanical engineering community, particularly within the defense industry.  Blackstock-McCalley, in particular, managed to sway Irving's attention, offering a six-figure salary, a paid company penthouse, and near-unlimited resources with which to fulfill various government defense contracts.

However, if anything, Irving did his job too well.  One of his first projects for Blackstock-McCalley was a redesign of the US Military's infantry body-armor.  His design and alpha prototype became something out of a cybernetic fever dream:  a heads-up display feeding directly into the central nervous system, variable weapons systems interchangable simply by thinking, regenerative nano-armor capable of withstanding a direct hit from a rocket-propelled grenade....

...then, they saw the price tag.  Irving shrugged, "You wanted quality, right?"  Within three months, Irving found himself out of a job.

But, then...a funny thing happened.  Irving was approached by a series of angel investors, eager to see him continue his work in armaments, self-defense, and biological-cybernetic interfaces.  A new lab, all the assistants he could care to have, unlimited funding.  All he had to do was let his ideas take shape.

Designs and prototypes ran forth from Irving with an ease and a joy he hadn't felt since college.  This, truly, was his calling.  His new think-tank, Haephestus Labs as one of the investors, Mister Doe, coined it, churned out armor, weaponry, cybernetics and more, each one more innovative and devastating than the last.  Where they go?  Not important.  What's important to Irving is creation.  And he's well on his way to creating something earth-shattering.

Villain of the Day:  January 26 (Levistus of Thule)

The man calling himself Levistus of Thule certainly knows how to make an entrance.  He literally teleported onto the stage in the middle of a Sentinels of Freedom press conference, proclaiming power and dominion over all he saw.  The press conference promptly descended into a fracas, with heroes torn between facing down the self-proclaimed conquerer and saving the members of the press.  Levistus was clad in a strange cross of battle armor and wizard robes, brandishing a ruby-tipped rod which projected powerful bursts of energy and other spell effects.  However, just as quickly as Levistus appeared, as soon an arcanely-powered hero appeared on scene--the blood mage known as Hemogoblin--Levistus disappeared, vanishing in a puff of foul-smelling smoke.

Levistus has made several appearances since his initial, explosive entrance, but each appearance has had a number of strange elements.  Firstly, Levistus claims to be from a kingdom known as Thule, the seat of sits on a floating island above what is modern Florida.  Naturally, this is not truly the case.  Further, continually claims to be the rightful ruler of the world, having to ascended to the throne after conquering the Empire of Atlantis.  Again, while the Ruins of Atlantis have been discovered, no evidence exists as to any empire.  Also, Levistus claims to be a master magus, one of the specifically-bred spellcasters born to the intellectual elite of Thule.  He claims to be a master of discordian magic, though any reference to Gloomweaver or other denizens of the Realm of Discord seems to perplex him beyond belief.  Finally, Levistus has been known to appear in places with a large preponderance of magical artifacts, often attempting to steal--or, barring theft, corrupt and destroy--said artifacts.  However, ' heroes have noted that Levistus seems confounded at times, as he will show up to steal an item...only for that item to have never been there in the first place.

Of particular note, though, whenever Levistus is confronted by any known magic-user, Levistus beats a hasty retreat.  Several heroes have theorized as to why Levistus flees at the appearance of any other mage, though little evidence has yet been gleaned.  Some believe that others' magic might have a tendency to drain or otherwise hamper that of Levistus, leaving him weaker or otherwise susceptible to harm.  A few others believe that Levistus is not, in fact, arcanely-talented in any sense; rather, he either utilizes arcane artifacts (such as his rod) to gain his powers, or that he has some other suite of powers.  

Most concerning, however, is Levistus' last appearance.  During an exploratory mission to the Ruins of Atlantis, Levistus was sighted, sitting on the Atlantean throne with one hand grasped around the hilt of a broken Condemnation...

Another one with a really cool story. :D I want to know what's up with this guy!

Glad you like him! Lots of campaign seeds there to say the least…

He seems like a very Thulish villain.  The King of the Thules, as it were?

Villain of the Day:  January 27 (Treant)

Connor Morrison was once a lumberjack in British Columbia.  He always had a great appreciation for the outdoors and had a genuine love for forestry.  While some in his industry balked at reforestation efforts or environmental tourism, Connor embraced it enthusiastically, eager to share his love of nature with all those who were willing to listen.  

Connor's upbeat attitude only seemed to aggravate his coworkers, however.  Worst among these was a fellow lumberman, Greg MackIntosh.  Greg absolutely did not care for Connor's continual prattle, to the point where their manager had to put the pair on separate teams, ensuring never to schedule them such that they'd see each other.  

The dramatic climate shifts of the Deadline event, however, struck the forest that Connor's employer was responsible for quite harshly.  Fires raged across the pine forest, and Connor and his comrades quickly found themselves surrounded by the raging conflagration.  Among them, naturally, was Greg.  As the group made their way through the inferno, a flaming tree crashed to earth, pinning Connor to the ground.  He screamed for help, but the rising smoke turned his screams to little more than a hacking gasp.  He was sure, as the other lumberjacks fled for their lives, that Greg looked back...and left him to die.

Connor's body was consumed in flames that day; his funeral was that of a hero.  But something there, in the deep forests, had heard his cry for help.  Something along that vast ley-line that ran through the British Columbian forest...

Connor's psyche emerged in a new form:  that of a towering western hemlock tree which moved in the form of a man.  This form made him resisistant to most damage and granted him immense size and strength.  While early adversaries of Treant attempted to attack him with fire, the late hardwood of his exterior proved most resilient against most flame attacks that were not sustained conflagrations.  As time progresed, Connor found that he could shift between this form and a more human-sized one, which appeared as a normal human...if that human were carved from wood.  He no longer needs to eat or breathe, and he regrows his limbs with naught but water and sunlight.

Earliest sightings of this creature referred to it as the Tolkien-esque "Ent", though the first attack against the logging companies quickly revealed its true name:  Connor Morrison, the Treant.  He would have his revenge against those who left him to die and all those who would dare defile the forests...starting first with Greg MackIntosh, then onto that self-termed hero Lifeline.

Connor Morrison was once a lumberjack in British Columbia.  He always had a great appreciation for the outdoors and had a genuine love for forestry.  While some in his industry balked at reforestation efforts or environmental tourism, Connor embraced it enthusiastically, eager to share his love of nature with all those who were willing to listen.  

Obligatory link to I bet you can guess what

Villain of the Day:  January 28th  (The Tick-Tock Man)

You'll never see him coming.  

Eliza Eckland stood on South Side Monorail Platform, looking forward to a weekend brunch with friends at one of her favorite restaurants in Eastside Megalopolis.  She'd dressed for the occasion:  new sundress, new heels, her favorite clutch.  The sun shown down, her favorite band sang away in her earbuds.  Nothing could have possible gone wrong that day, until she stepped off onto the track.

The Megalopolis monorail moves at approximately 300 miles per hour.  The largest pieces of Eliza Eckland that were found were no bigger than her shattered cell phone, her earbuds still dangling from the phone port.

As both Megalopolis Police and the Federal Transportation Safety Administration tried to piece together what exactly happened to Eliza, they came across a most strange phenomenon.  Even on weekends, the Megalopolis Monorail is always bustling, with tons of people eager to travel across the city.  That day, only Eliza and one other stood on the platform.

The video feed never did catch his entire face, but his grin was a wide one, wider that it should have been.  He was dressed in the impeccable blue of an old-timey train conductor, down to the white gloves and brimmed cap.  As he stood across the platform from Eliza, he pulled forth a silver pocketwatch, looked at it, and spoke a few words.  Within a moment, Eliza stepped off the platform and onto the track; scant seconds later, the express train made impact.  The stranger in the conductors' uniform--called The Tick-Tock Man by some police investigator with a dash of gallows humor--was nowhere to be seen.

The Wraith offered to step in on the investigation and, while the Metropolis PD was reluctant, Detective Marissa Parker funneled Maia the footage from Eliza's death.  Maia managed to isolate the audio track from the recording; only a few words were even spoken, "Eliza.  It's time."

Since that day, 16 separate individuals have died under almost identical circumstances.  In all cases, footage of the mysterious Tick-Tock man exists, but never enough to get a clear facial recognition in any known criminal database.  He never takes any sort of aggressive action and always disappears as the individuals breathe their last.  In all cases, he only speaks three words:  "Victim.  It's time."

They never saw him coming.  Neither will you.

Repent, Harlequin! :D Now that's creepy.

Villain of the Day:  January 29 (Aphelian and Apogee)

Sometimes, the safest place to be is the middle of nowhere.  As the OblivAeon event raged on Earth, Sergeant Robert D. Prater and Colonel Marlena E. Dwyer watched helplessly from the Einstein-VI space station.  The only two humans aboard, they could see the phenomenal devastation from their vantage as their station hung above North America.  Cities burned, bolts of energy blasted into the nothingness of space, and the slow realization of the pair's predicament slowly sunk in:  would there be an Earth to go back to?

As Dwyer signed and turned from the porthole, alarm klaxons blared and warning lights blinked into being.  Prater barely made it to one of the piloting seats before a stray blast of cosmic energy slammed into Einstein-VI, shredding the station like so much waste paper.

Prater and Dwyer floated, unconscious, through the void of space...but did not die.  Rather, Dwyer awoke, frantic and confused, but alive!  Her body bombarded by cosmic energy, she found she no longer needed to breathe and was immune to the extremities of space.  Further, she began to fly through the blackness, faster and faster, streaking past planets, stars, and whole systems at a speed incalculable.

Within moments, Dwyer found herself far across the galaxy, finally pulling herself to a stop.  However, the phenomenal energy and momentum she gained during this travel flew beyond her, bombarding a star system with all her accumulated cosmic energy.  The system was reduced to so much rubble in but an instant--4 billion lives extinguished in a single accident.  Tears streamed down Dwyer's face, freezing to her skin as she hung in space.  She wailed aloud, looking around for any help...only to see Prater, now barely conscious, dragged behind in her cosmic wake, absorbing energy even as she traveled.

The pair currently wander the cosmos, desperate to return to Earth, but trailing destruction and devastation in their wake.  Without some way to inhibit their phenomenal speed and their ability to absorb and redirect radiation, each stop the pair make results in the destruction of whole planets and systems.  They are currently wanted by a number of interstellar forces, turning their unfortunate exile into a manhunt.  Together, Apogee and Aphalian, Prater and Dwyer, race across the cosmos...aching only to be home.

Villain of the Day:  January 30 (TALOS)

With the dissolution of FILTER following the OblivAeon event, a great deal of the mercenary, surveillance, and low-level metahuman community was left in the wind.  While the heroes and villains of Earth marshalled their forces against the world-ending threat of OblivAeon and its Scions, something dire began assembling in the shadows.  

At first, most of the missing material and individuals were attributed to the outright destruction.  The Wagner Mars Base was devastated, Fort Adamant was shredded, and military bases across the world were blasted--it wasn't a far stretch to count those losses among the bodies.   As the body counts were tallied, as individuals went from "missing in action" to "believed killed in action", several notable individuals went missing.  Geneticists, supply chain analysts, satellite intelligence experts, rocketry and munitions engineers tallied among the dead, their bodies never recovered.

Likely because they hadn't died.  They were recruited.

The public presence of Legacy and other superheroes has always invited backlash.  However, the mustache-twirling lunacy of Baron Blade and the metahuman-supremacist philosophies of Citizen Dawn had provably, visibly failed.  Rather, if the worlds' elite--both human and metahuman--were to survive in this brave new world of the super-men, they must play smarter.  They must organize.

For the past 50 years, TALOS (the TActical Logistics, Opposition and Subversion initiative) has operated in the shadows, gathering information, resources, and manpower to subtly maneuver against the Freedom Five, Dark Watch, and any other vigilante group.  And now, with the rise of the Sentinels of Freedom, the Daedelus Council--the nine heads of TALOS' various divisions--has chosen this time to strike.

TALOS itself operates in the shadows, thought its influence is felt at every level:  political, economic, scientific, military, and beyond.  Numerous legislators (and at least two Supreme Court justices) are affiliated with TALOS, as well as six 2+ star generals and several dozen Fortune 500 executives.  However, TALOS typically operates on an individual or small-cell basis, utilizing the most cutting edge intelligence techniques and encryption, with few permanent safe-houses and even fewer permanent bases.  Even the most in-depth laboratories affiliated with TALOS are built with portability in mind--a TALOS base can be packed, scrubbed and gone within a 2 hour time span. 

The two locations that TALOS maintains on a permanent basis are as remote as humanly possible:  one lab literally built into the side of a mountain in the Canadian Rockies, with the other in the midst of the Mojave Desert.  There, they train the greatest known force in military and intelligence countermeasures ever assembled.  Individual soldiers are supplied with power-replicating techonologies, battlesuits, genetic augmentations, and the finest in cybernetic prostheses.  Their weaponry is state of the art, featuring ion and gauss projectile weaponry not currently available to any other standing military force.  TALOS is incredibly well-funded and supplied, with their net worth currently in excess of the GDP of a solid third of the world's nations.  Were they to emerge in force, TALOS stands a very good chance of a military, economic, and intelligence-based overthrow of the United States government. But, force brings retribution; the Daedelus Council would much rather see the world's power handed to them with ease, rather than wrested from an inevitable rebellion.

Within the view of the heroes, TALOS is a rumor, nothing more.  Not even the original Freedom Five are certain of its existence, though Tyler Vance's testimony before Congress following the Termi-Nation event, started raising questions as to the veracity of various congressional members, particularly their relation to a former military subcontractor with Blackstock-McCalley named Vincent Caraballo.  Caraballo's whereabouts are unknown, though he has been sighted in both Rook City and Megalopolis at various times throughout the past few months, meeting with a certain black-clad individual, often over a Dad's Burger.  Over a burger and fries, a new world order arises...

I get the feeling the mysterious John Doe is part of TALOS...

Mister Doe?  Who knows for sure...?

Even if he is (and I'm not saying he is), he wouldn't be the only TALOS affiliated villain on this list...

Villain of the Day:  January 31 (Adrian Moriarty Dover, aka The Second Moriarty)

It is April 18th, in the Year of Our Lord 1204.  Constantinople burns.

The misguided Crusaders from France and Italy have been excommunicated for the second time by Pope Innocent III.  Ancient relics of art, literature, and history are destroyed.  Treasures are looted.  The great bronze horses of the Hippodrome are torn from their moorings, set to be sent to Rome.  Adrianus Akropolites watches from afar; a pack-horse loaded with treasures awaits him, grazing at a tree nearby.  An opened lock, a misdirected guard patrol, and the Crusading army takes the best-fortified city in the western world. 

Within the city walls, the invading army revels; a French prostitute dances upon the throne of the Byzantine Empire.  But well before the music ends, Adrianus Akropolites has vanished.

It is late February, in the Year of Our Lord 1778.  Philadelphia freezes.

Garrison Commander Arnold has been relieved of his field duties, taking the winter to heal his wounded leg.  The revolution has weighed heavy on his mind for months--so much carnage, so many lives lost, and for what?  His doctor peels back the bandages and replaces the split.  "If only," the doctor says, "this war could come to a swift end.  We could save so many and get back to normality.  Commander, you will be in a unique position upon your return to the Continental Army..."  Arnold contemplates this as Doctor Adrian re-wraps his leg; perhaps he could make a difference.

It is October, in the Year of Our Lord 1958.  London shivers.

Felix Stone contemplates his new office, in Britain's Attache for Foreign Affairs.  Never one for much decoration, most of what covered his deck were paper clips, staplers, and other office supplies.  A cup of black pens sat at the ready, within easy reach of his dayplanner.  A head popped into his doorway, "Mister Stone, I presume?"  Felix nods.  "My name is Adrian Dover.  It appears we'll be working in tandem for the foreseeable future...shall we pop out for a drink?"

The man known as Adrian Dover would never catch your attention on the street.  A head of dark hair, high cheekbones, and a dark suit allow him to blend into a crowd with ease.  And, over the centuries, he has done just that.  Over and over, Adrian has placed himself in positions to give history a 'nudge', pushing it in a direction that spirals it towards chaos and annihilation.  Each time, he emerges all the stronger, gaining wealth, influence, and material power, even as the world rends itself in twain.  In this end, he has come to view himself as something of a nefarious mastermind, sitting at the center of a vast web of interconnections, deceit, and conspiracy.  Jokingly, he has more than once referred to himself as The Second Moriarty, after the classic mastermind of literature.

It is unknown as to whether Adrian Dover has any powers beyond his incredibly long life span.  He does not age, nor does he ever seem to suffer any physical ailment.  His uncanny influence over notable individuals might suggest some degree of mental manipulation, though he exhibits no other psychic powers, such as telepathy or telekinesis.  It may well be that century upon century of education, diplomacy, and machinations have simply crafted him into a master manipulator.  In any case, tracking Dover's subtle influence might only be in the hands of the most diligent investigators, leading to major figures the world around.  And should someone step too close to this secret?  Such a brash individual might find the world itself allied against them, as The Second Moriarty stacks the deck of fate.

Hah, well. :D You did say things were pointing to a mastermind!

So, Adrian Dover rounds out my last villain for January.

Can I ask the general consensus of what they thought of this? Is this useful? Entertaining? Too cliche?

Big question, I guess, is do you want to see more?

I’m kind of on the fence right now – I like writing these, but I’ve got a ton of other stuff to write, both personally and professionally, so if there’s not an audience, I’ll move apace. If there’s desire for more though, I’ll gladly keep going.

My thoughts for the coming months would likely be themed: a month of street level villains, another of occult/arcane threats, another of alien/cosmic threats, another of teams/organizations, etc. Is this an interesting direction for people?

Although Rook City avoided the calamity seen in other worlds, it still did not fair well. Signs of the carnage that OblivAeon and his minions caused can be found on every street of the city.  Except for Peaks Way, a small suburban neighborhood hidden away inside an industrial park.  On Peaks Way flowers bloom, birds chirp, and there are no signs of the wreckage and rubble that can be found everywhere else in the city.  Visitors to the street are greeted by smiling residents, who inform them that yes, the neighborhood is doing perfectly fine.  Disaster? We didn't notice a disaster over here.  Our neighboorhood has always been perfectly safe.  It's been very lovely to meet you, but the children are napping right now, and it wouldn't do to wake them up early.  Things are always less pleasent when the children aren't well rested.  Problems? No, we don't have any problems here.  Don't worry about us, today is a good day.

I have enjoyed reading your daily villain PlatinumWarlock. They will undoubtedly be pulled apart and reassembled by my brain at some point and I will go AH I have found the perfect foil in an RPG campaign thinking I am so novel and fresh and then realize I just stole one of yours. 

One day I may even try and add to this list but my brain still keeps cycling back to the silly hero name of     Element of Justice 

It was all good stuff, Warlock. :D You've earned yourself a break, though. Come back and give us more when you feel the need to and have the time!

Yeah, these have been awesome and I would definitely love to see more, but I don't think anyone would blame you if you can't keep up the pace of one per day.  It would probably take me a week to come up with one of these and it still wouldn't be as good.

Demiher0's said it pretty perfectly, so I'll just add to what he said.

So yeah, if you find life becomes too much to handle, then I won't be offended if you don't continue. I really apprecoate it though, and would be thrilled if you do more.

All right, then.  We forge on!  February will focus on Foreign Threats:  threats not originating in the United States.

Villain of the Day:  February 1 (Jimmy Fish-Eyes)

Jiichirou "Jimmy" Nobuto had a case of the wandering eyes.  No matter how good he had it, he always wanted something different, something new, something more.  If he just got a new car?  He'd find himself back on the car lots, eyeing up the newer models.  In a restaurant?  He'd scope out what someone else had ordered, wondering when he should change his own order.  In a relationship with a gorgeous girlfriend?  He'd scope the dating sites on the down-low, looking for someone cuter.  Within his circle of friends, his tendency to gape and stare earned him the nickname Jimmy Fish-Eyes, as he scoped out what might be out there.

However, Jimmy's eye for the finer things did have its perks.  As a low-level extortionist with the Kokuru-kai yakuza group, he could always tell when someone was holding out on him, able to sniff out hidden cash, weapons, or other valuables with ease.  After a particularly lucrative score, in which Jimmy located a cache of conflict diamonds, his oyabun decided to reward him with something most unique.

Jimmy's surgery lasted for nearly 16 hours.  With Jimmy on the table, the Afrikaans surgeon was nothing short of a maestro, removing his eyes and attaching new ones directly into his optic nerves.

He emerged from his recovery with powers true to his name.  Mechanical cybernetic eyes bulged from his sockets:  he could now see into alternate spectrums of light, see through thin objects, and see at incredible distances or with power magnification.  Further, Jimmy's enhanced vision granted him phenomenal skill at marksmanship, turning what was an average shot into a shootist that could out-duel even the best of Olympic marksmen and archers.  To keep a lower profile, Jimmy's become ubiquitous for his large, jet black sunglasses which cover all but the barest trace of his cybernetics.

Fish-Eyes continues to work for the Kokuru-kai, but as per usual, he has his eyes on bigger scores.  Perhaps those individuals who gave him his new eyes might be hiring...

Villain of the Day:  February 2 (Vabanque)

Gregoire D'Alembert loved the thrill of the dice.  The flip of a card enthralled him.  That tension between dealer and player, the shifty eyes, the decision to stay or hit, the bluff and patter at the gambling table.  Gregoire himself was a good enough player--typically favoring baccarat, blackjack, and craps--but the atmosphere of a casino was intoxicating to him.  Growing up in Luxembourg, he quickly moved to Monte Carlo, taking a position as a croupier at a small casino.

Over time, Gregoire rose through the ranks, eventually becoming a baccarat ladderman in a notable coastline casino.  Unfortunately for Gregoire, that casino did not take kindly to thieves--while Gregoire himself took nothing, a nefarious co-worker shunted the blame onto him--and worse, that casino happened to be mob-affiliated.  Rather than turn Gregoire in to the authorities, a few burly men took him into the kitchen walk-in after hours and proceeded to teach him a proper lesson.

The explosion of energy in the kitchen nearly demolished the east wing of the casino.  Bleeding from his pummelling, Gregoire flared with power in all directions, slaying his assailants and decimating the kitchen.  Not understanding what had happened to him, Gregoire fled the casino, packed a swift bag, and ran for his life.

Since that day, Gregoire has started to gain a handle on his energy-expulsion abilities.  Styling himself as the rakish Vabanque, he can project energy missiles after the four card suits, while his costume resembles nothing so much as the Jack of Diamonds, replete with pale-faced mask.  

In his civilian guise, Gregoire travels from casino to casino, bilking casinos--particularly mob-affiliated ones--out of thousands of dollars.  However, while dressed as Vabanque, he revels in theft and derring-do, his actions leaving gambling houses smoking and penniless in his wake.

Villain of the Day:  February 3 (The Polong)

The villagers in Tanha Rata, Malaysia always managed to keep the beast at bay.  For centuries upon end, a villager would leave their village, venturing deep into the jungle and entering the forbidden cave.  Torch in hand, the altar lay before them, the same two objects always in place:  a small stone knife and a black-quartz bottle.  Each day, at noon, a villager would prick their index finger with the stone blade and ooze a single drop of blood into the bottle.  Each time, the creature in the bottle rose to feed, but each time it simply fed on the blood and returned to the bottle.  Few knew why this ritual was performed; fewer still knew what actually lurked within the bottle.  But all knew:  each day, one drop of blood kept the bottle satisfied.

But, as with all things during the OblivAeon event, the routine mundane rituals of life were flung aside in favor of pure survival.

The islands of Malaysia were struck by a massive typhoon as OblivAeon arrived, with massive storms and crashing waves slamming against the shore.  Tanha Rata was submerged, the villagers clinging to debris and clambering to their roofs to simply survive.  As rescue boats and helicopters scoured the village, Tanha Rata's wise woman could only consider one dire fate:  "The bottle.  It is gone."

Along the northern coast of Australia, little Genevieve Wallace loved picking up shells along the beach.  When she found a black quartz bottle, she was quick to rush home to show her auntie.  Auntie Gertrude smiled and told her niece, "It's beautiful; why don't we clean it up before we put it in your collection?"

Their mutilated bodies were found in Gertrude's backyard, their entrails streaming down the sidewalk and their livers outright missing.

Since then, The Polong has roamed free across Australia, New Zealand, and the islands of southeast Asia.  In most cases, it appears just as little Genevieve did in life, her having been its first true victim in centuries.  However, as it engages foes, The Polong morphs into a swirling oval of teeth, claws, suckers, and amorphous flesh.  It exists only to feed, to sow carnage, and to create more of its own kind.  It greatly prefers the liver tissue of humans, as the increased iron content in the liver more easily feeds it, bringing it closer towards replication.  And, after just a few more victims, there may be more than one Polong menacing Malaysia.

Villain of the Day:  February 4 (Erudite)

Professor Jonathon Lew-Hansfield was the very definition of an ivory tower academic.  Born to an Ivy League household, he attended Oxford and Cambridge, before taking a full professorship at the Universitat Heidelberg in Germany.  A professor of philosophy, Lew-Hansfield was well-read, better-spoken, and always eager to find ways to expand his sizable intellect.  

What he couldn't stand, though?  His students.

Even as a full professor, Lew-Hansfield found himself forced into providing classes for (*scoff*) undergraduates, as they shambled from class to class, wearing their t-shirts and yoga pants, worried only about their next night at the bar or their next late-night conquest.  He loathed them.  He loathed everything they stood for:  their commercialism, their lack of insight, their pedantic acceptance of mediocrity.  He couldn't stand it.  Not one more minute.

Now, Lew-Hansfield was no scientist, but he surely knew enough of them from his countless years in academica.  He just didn't bank on his contact in the Manchester University physics department being affiliated with some organization called TALOS.

The villain now known as Erudite made his first appearance at a Hamburg football match against Manchester United.  Manchester was up 2-0 when a figure in silver armor descended from the rafters of the Volksparkstadion, his voice booming over the loudspeakers.  "Simpletons!" he bellowed, "This paltry display of primitive amusement is at an end.  Feel now, the raw might of the human mind, unfurled!"

Waves of psionic energy washed over the crowd.  Pylons and support structures tore themselves free of their moorings slamming into the field.  Erudite's first appearance brought a death toll in the hundreds as fans fled the stadium in horror.  A massive manhunt ensued, with clever investigators quickly realizing that the demure, arrogant philosophy professor had turned into a full-fledged villain.

Erudite is still at large, with his crimes neatly balanced between thefts of high-end art and historical objects (for his private collection) and attacks on what he believes to be "vulgar" activities that dumb down the masses.  Recent targets have included the red-carpet release of a major blockbuster film, a large video game convention, and the Black Friday sales at the Mall of America.  Erudite has traveled the world, deludedly attempting to eradicate all those  things he believes to be unnecessary, as he prepares a grander plan for a more selective, enlightened world...

Villain of the Day:  February 5 (Baba Yaga)

Katja Lukyarenko was living the high life.  The dilettante daughter of old money in Kiev, Ukraine, she cavorted across Europe throughout her early 20s, nominally 'studying' at university, but often spending more time in the nightclubs of The Netherlands or along the sun-drenched beaches of Cyprus.  Katja was a beautiful person doing beautiful-person-things, living an idyllic life.  

That is, until one fateful night in St. Petersburg.

Katja and several of her girlfriends were out late one evening, on their way home from some drunken revelry in a Russian nightclub.  Roaming through the streets that icy winter's day, Katja and her crew cut down an alley, eager to find an all-night restaurant where they could cap off their evening.  As Katja stepped gingerly through the alley--her stiletto heels clacking along the cobblestones--a cry rang out.  Katja stumbled into a heap of snow and trash as a figure pushed her aside, crying out in pain:  Katja had stepped on a decrepit old homeless woman, who had taken up refuge in the alley.

More than a little inebriated and now angry at having been shoved into the muck, Katja berated the old woman, kicking at her and cursing profusely.  The old woman cowered in fear and shame before extending one long-nailed finger, "You!  You have everything!  I have nothing, but you still curse at me!  By Koschkei's deathless egg, you will know the sorrow I have felt!"

Katja's friends pulled her along, but the woman continued to stare at her, the transient's eyes glinting in the St. Petersburg snow.  That next day, the woman was found in the alley, having died of hypothermia.

That next night, the first transformation occured.  As she primped for another night out in front of her hotel room mirror, Katja's face withered.  Her hands gnarled and her back curled into a hunch.  There in her four-star room, Katja had transformed into a hideous hag!  In horror, she fled into the night, utterly terrifying anyone she passed as she went.

Over the months and years since then, Katja's curse has provided her a significant degree of power.  Able to channel discordian magics, she refers to herself with the name of the ancient Russian witch, Baba Yaga, even flying through the air in a conjured mortar and pestle.  Katja can, in fact, use her magics to resume her prior, youthful form, though doing so takes such concentration and focus that she cannot perform any other magics and, if distracted, will return to her crone form.

Baba Yaga will stop at nothing to break her curse and, as such, has taken to all manner of foul sorceries, hoping that some long forgotten branch of discordian magic might free her from this fate.  Most notably, Katja completed a daring raid upon the Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, stealing one of the few known full translations of De Vermiis Mysteriis, a powerful spellbook once held by the noted sorcerer Ludwig Prinn.  What Baba Yaga may unleash from this tome, though, may not be worth the price of her reclaimed youth...

Villain of the Day:  February 6 (The Half Man) 

Yusuf Ishan was a child of war.  Growing up along the Uzbekistan/Afghanistan border, his parents farm was the site of marauding warlords, Soviet tanks, British paramilitary forces, and invading Americans throughout his entire life.  His father, a wheat farmer, was crippled by a land mine when Yusuf was merely 8, leaving his mother to care for the whole household and maintain th efarm itself.

Yusuf could never understand, for the life of him, what drove all these people to such violence.  Surely, there must be a way for them to see reason.  Despite his family's trials and travails, Yusuf was still able to attend a local school, eventually even making it to university in India.  However, while there, tragedy struck.  Yusuf's family were caught in the crossfire during a firefight in a nearby marketplace--his mother and three of his siblings were gunned down by acciental fire.

Both Yusuf and his father took this loss heavily, mourning for weeks on end.  That is, until Yusuf found something of note.  While out on a contemplative walk, he literally fell into a bunker he had never seen before.  Inside were technological wonders beyond his own imagining:  weapons, armor, computers, and more.  Yusuf could read English well enough--after some brief investigation, he came to realize the truth of this bunker:  it belonged to an organization known as TALOS.

But, within the bunker was a prize beyond measure:  a series of vials quite clearly labeled as a drug regimen, capable of altering the imbiber's genetics and providing them with a degree of metahuman abilitiy.  Full of loss and still raging at the senseless violence that decimated his family, Yusuf injected himself with the serum and, sealing the bunker behind him, headed back home.  He never made it that far.

Over the next four days, Yusuf wandered through the wilderness, in abject pain and horrific hallucination.  Wandering across a sun-scorched mountaintop, he collapsed, ready to die.  But die he did not.  His skin facing the sun darkened to the point of becoming jet black, appearing to divide him almost exactly in half vertically.  But, as he rose onn that fifth day, he found himself invigorated.  He was stronger, faster, and resistant to harm of all sorts.  His reflexes and senses were heightened.  He was reborn.

Since that day, a mysterious divided figure has waged an outright war upon any forces who might interlope in the Afghan states.  The Half Man and an ever-expanding cadre of followers waged a guerilla war against the Taliban, the American forces, and the Afghan government itself, using strange, scientifically advanced weaponry pulled from that TALOS bunker.  Yusuf has no more patience to give.  His people will no longer bleed; only his enemies will.

Villain of the Day:  February 7 (Squall)

Alvin Sigurlinni's parents lived in the most remote parts of Greenland; once a month, his father took their boat out for supplies.  Beyond that, Alvin had little contact with the outside world, beyond that of his parents and his siblings.  Alvin was home schooled, primarily by his eldest sister Ingva, though he always craved more.  He yearned to go with his father into Maniitsoq to see new people and to see the sights beyond his family's homestead.  His parents were adamant, though:  he must stay home.

But, of course, after you tell a child 'no' for so long, eventually they'll start to look for a way for that 'no' to become a 'yes'.  For Alvin, this meant sneaking aboard his father's boat and, when father went shopping for food and other supplies, Alvin could explore the town.

Snow in Greenland is omnipresent.  However, as Alvin slipped out of the ship's hold, the wind began to swirl much more strongly.  The snowflakes, slowly drifting down along the whole trip, began to fall in earnest, thick and whipping through the icy wind.  As Alvin stepped onto the sidewalk, he felt a strange power surge through him.  His eyes flared brilliant blue and, falliing to his knees, he cried out in alarm and pain.

Alvin was, of course, an Omega.  His powers of atmokinetic control could manifest intensely powerful winter storms, disrupting temperatures and causing massive precipitation in a several-mile radius around him.  And worse, his powers were entirely beyond his control.  

By the time that the Sentinels of Freedom managed to reach Alvin, the entire village of Maniitsoq was under 5 feet of snow.  Eventually, Alvin's role in the sudden storm was discovered; the boy was sedated and taken into custody, though his family has vehemently protested.  The Greenland government has taken up the issue of Alvin's undue incarceration in international court, though the Sentinels of Freedom claim that his continued sedation is necessary for the safety of all those around him.  

To this day, the public believs that the metahuman referred to as Squall remains unconscious in a stasis chamber in Freedom Plaza.  However, with a new session of the International Court of Justice set to begin, it may only be a matter of time until the truth is exposed:  the still-sedated body of Alvin Sigurlinni has been stolen by parties unknown.  The living snowstorm may yet walk the earth again.

Villain of the Day:  February 8 (Jericho)

During the Ennead's takeover of Egypt, the remaining states in the Middle East were thrown into a panic.  With nine ultra-powerful would-be gods having walled off Egypt, many of the Levant states began to actively recruit identified metahumans into their own military special ops corps, setting off a chain reaction of metahuman arms proliferation.  Syria, Libya, Jordan, Saudi Arabia and several other countries offered multi-million dollar contracts to assorted metahumans to act as "military consultants" within their own military forces.

Israel, however, had a different idea.

Recruited by Lieutenant Colonel Uri Felsenthal of the Israeli Special Forces, fourteen volunteers were folded into Project: Jericho.  Deep within the bowels of a skunkworks beneath Tel Aviv, Project Jericho represented the summation of global arms technology meant to replicate and surpass that of the United States' "Bunker" suit.  Jericho-assigned scientists brought in power sources and capacitors from Mordengrad, armor plating based on the original Omnitron designs, state of the art weapons and targeting systems from Blackstock-McCalley, and a from-scratch, in-house built user interface, built for ease of piloting.

The fourteen Jericho suits were first deployed as crowd-control units during the OblivAeon crisis, but quickly found themselves pressed into rescue and reconnaisance roles, in addition to facing down seeming legions of Aeon men.  Unsurprisingly, the suits proved to be formidable military tools, with near impenetrable armor and a bevy of modular armament options.  Felsenthal's project was hailed as a rousing success and were folded into the Israeli military structure with great fanfare.

...which, of course, led to greater destablilization.  The Jericho suits were deployed to patrols along the Gaza Strip, leading directly to a firefight with  PLO affiliated insurgents.  No less than 64 individuals were killed during this mission, with the Jericho suits standing as monoliths of destruction in the midst of the battlefield flames.  Palestinian officials immediately filed a grievance with the United Natiosn war crimes tribunal, citing the use of "weapons of mass destruction" in the field, intending to have the international community put the kibosh on the use of armored suits on the battlefield.  In a stunning reversal of fortune, the tribunal found that, since the armament of the Jericho suit was no different than that of a modern tank or other armored cavalry units, no such sanctions would be made.

To this day, the 14 members of Project Jericho have done much to benefit the Israeli state, which has only earned them the ire of their neighbors.  Rumors swirl of an alliance of Arab states, set to invade Israel with the singular intent of dismantling the threat posed by the Israeli military and Project Jericho.  And, should this happen, the Jericho suits will undoubtedly be on the front lines, facing off against metahuman mercenaries.  But where, then, will the Sentinels of Freedom stand when the superhumans of the world go to war?

Villain of the Day:  February 9 (Iyo)

In the midst of the Middle Eastern arms proliferation in the wake of Israel's Project: Jericho, the various countries along the Arabian peninsula have begun active recruitment efforts into their own militaries.  One of the cornerstones of those recruitment efforts has come from Iyo, the Crystalline Man.

Born Amanuel Mebrahtu in Eritrea, Iyo's abilities first manifested during the Somali conflicts during the early 2000s, while he worked with a minor mercenary group.  Believed to be a latent Omega, Amanuel is able to crystallize his own body, turning himself into something akin to a walking salt crystal.  His abilities, naturally, provided him significant resistance to damage, a degree of enhanced strength, and an ability to blast out a blinding spray of salt crystals, which deals little damage, but can easily blind or disorient unsuspecting foes.

However, with the establishment of a coalition government in Somalia in 2009, Iyo decided to embark on a different opportunity.  Contacted by a military minister in Yemen, Iyo was offered a princely sum--all held in offshore accounts--to aid the Yemeni government in both special operations and spec-ops recruitment efforts, as they sought to supplement their own military with metahumans.  In this role, Iyo became a core member of Yemen's "Rubama" initiative, whereupon he recruited no less than 20 powered individuals into the Yemeni military.

Since that time, Iyo has embraced his role as a freelancer, moving from country to country within the various Arab states in the Middle East.  The United Nations has declared Mebrahtu to be a 'person of interest' in a number of terrorism-associated cases throughout the African and Asian continents, while the European Union has outright declared Mebrahtu to be a persona-non-grata.  Mind you, this has not stopped Iyo from making this way through the European continent--rather, he utilizes various diplomatic liasons and proxies to negotiate on his behalf.

Most recently, Iyo has been sighted in Lebanon, whereupon he met with one Dr. Emershan Laurent, a South African geneticist believed to be linked to the development of biological and chemical armaments in Iran.  The results of their meeting are currently unknown, though both have been 'off the grid' for months since their meeting...

Wow, we're getting into some pretty deep stuff now.

Also, Blackstock-McCalley is just a thing you made up, right?  It's not some obscure part of sentinel comics I don't know about.

Yes, Blackstock-McCalley is my own creation.  To my knowledge, it does not exist in the official SC canon.

And yes, deep stuff impending.  I've kind of taken up the idea of having each "Month" from here on out be not only a different Theme, but also a different Campaign Style.  The previous one sets up TALOS as a HYDRA/HIVE/AIM-style organization built into the world's military and political infrastructure.  This one, obviously, will deal with the concept of an international armed conflict which directly involves superhumans as government-sponsored combatants.  Not every Villain-of-the-Day will fit directly into that Campaign Style directly, though enough of them will have at least tangential relation for a GM to easily craft an ongoing plot arc.

Villain of the Day:  February 10 (La Segador)

Francisca Veronica Mendiza knew she wanted to be a superhero from the first time she saw one.  Watching Legacy fly across the sky during the Voss invasion from her home in the Jalisco province of Mexico, she dreamt of doing the same.  Her parents often dismissed her towel-across-the-shoulders antics as the play of a girl who just wouldn't grow up. 

That is, until she took off.

Even as a child, Mendiza's powers were potent--she could fly, project waves of kinetic energy, and had heightened reflexes and agility.  Her parents, unsure of what to do, sought advice from the Mexican government.  Not long before the OblivAeon event, Mendiza began her training as part of a special division for superhero training within the Mexican military.  At the top of Veronica's to-do list?  Taking the fight to human traffickers throughout western Mexico.  Her early successes in this venue earned her the nickname La Segador, "The Reaper".  

Veronica has always been nothing if not outspoken, which has made her a number of enemies throughout both Mexico and the United States.  Most notable among these has been the United States government itself--Veronica has strong views regarding the administration's ongoing actions regarding immigration and deportation.  Veronica has gone so far as to actively pursue and menace American border patrol agents, leading to an increase in international tensions.  While Mendiza was disciplined by her government handlers for these actions, she has made  her intentions quite clear:  she intends to help the Mexican people, even if that help means leaving Mexico.

Veronica has been sighted numerous times across the US/MExico border, sighted in El Paso, San Antonio, southern New Mexico and Arizona, and in the San Jose area of California.  Currently, she has an outstanding warrant in the United States and is wanted for questioning in regards to the mysterious deaths of four ICE agents along the Arizona/Mexico border.  The Mexican government has refused to extradite Mendiza, however,  claiming that he comprises too valuable a portion of their domestic law enforcement capability.  As it stands, however, La Segador continues her crusade for the rights of all Mexicans.

Villain of the Day: February 11 (The Dead Men of Tonga)

Island nations have not fared well in recent years. Between the cataclysmic changes brought about during Deadline's attack on Earth and the massive energies unleashed by OblivAeon and his Scions, ask reaches of the globe have been struck by immeasurable climatic shifts and unparalleled devastation. Those on the tiny island nation of Tonga knew this best.

Today, everyone on that island is dead.

The same typhoon which later devastated Malaysia struck Tonga with a power not before realized. Between the flooding there and the seismic activity caused by Deadline, the entire island sunk beneath the waves of the Pacific. By the time the world could react, every man, woman, and child on Tonga had drowned.

Not long after, though, the dead began to appear. Their bodies, having washed up on the relatively nearby Bikini Atoll, were infused with the ambient radiation of countless nuclear tests... and became animate. Ravenous, radioactive rotting corpses now took to the seas.

The first appearance of the Tongan dead came in an attack on a New Zealand shipping vessel-- the ship's crew were tour apart and, in some cases, covered in acute radiation burns. A Pacific cruise came next, though a team of Japanese heroes managed to fend off the blighted hordes. It was this team that first made the realization that these were, in fact, the corpses from Tonga's destruction.

None know what they want, save revenge.

None know how they travel, save their region of the Pacific.

None will ever forget the price of a hero's failure...

Villain of the Day:  February 12 (Mehit)

In the wake of the Ennead's fall, numerous parties were quick to take advantage of the lack of governmental power and authority in Egypt.  While the international community did their best to help establish infrastructure and relative law and order, the new Egypt's elections were rife with extremist parties and divisive politicians eager to grab power.

One of the the foremost of these were the various candidates of the new Altaqlid (or, "Traditions") party.  A highly conservative, religiously-affiliated group, the Altaqlid party won several district elections and held a significant portion of the new Egyptian parliament.  Notable among these was Iskandar Nabhani, an American-educated lawyer who returned to the Middle East after completing his law degree and was elected to Egypt's parliament following the re-establishment of the state.  Among Nabhani's platforms were a retreat from international politics--"Egypt for Egyptians"--and a return to traditional values and gender politics.  

Unsurprisingly, the women of Egypt in the 21st Century were not necessarily about to go back upon years of progress and equality.  Marches were made, demonstrations were held, and speeches were televised.  

While not a national protest leader, Taina Zidane worked on the local level to help organize protests and march logistics.  Ironically enough, she attended the same American university as Nabhani, knowing him from there, rather than from their home country.  On September 4th, Zidane was at the head of a march through Damietta, set to protest a stump speech by Nabhani.  Many believed that Nabhani had intended to declare his candidacy for Prime Minister of Egypt that day...his speech was never made.

During the womens' march, a counter-protestor and supporter of Nabhani's began throwing rocks and other items at the marchers.  Zidane, holding up a large banner, was struck in the side of the head. 

As she slammed into the pavement, her eyes flared.  When she rose again, she stood easily 10 feet fall, her body having transformed into black basalt.  In a fit of rage, she dashed into the crowd of counter-protestors.  By the time that her friends had talked her down, sixteen of Nabhani's supporters lay bleeding and broken across the pavement.  Nabhani himself was escorted from the premises under armed guards, while Zidane outright fled.

Taking up the name of Mehit, a Nubian protector-goddess, Zidane has continued to appear at various pro-equality protests, advocating for women's rights throughout the Middle East.  Nabhani envisions Zidane as a natural adversary and regularly views her as some political mastermind, serving as his arch-nemesis, while simultaneously spurring his followers on to greater and greater acts of defiance and violence.  And, despite her general views on non-violence, Mehit is increasingly likely to oblige them...

Dang, Platinum, a few of these people are starting to sound more like heroes than villains (in particular: La Segador and Mehit), and a few others sound like they belong in the Miststorm timeline (in particular: the Dead Men of Toga and everything relating to TALOS). You're really putting a lot of work into this.

Every good villain is the hero of their own story, and the road to hell is still paved in good intentions…

Yeah, but I'm saying they look more like heroes to me. Less villains, and more just enemies of another country's (or in one case their own) government, and I'm having a hard time understanding why most heroes would want to fight them at all. For non-patriotic reasons, I mean.

I totally agree with you. Both La Segador and Mehit are absolutely sympathetic, and on a personal level I actually align strongly with both in terms of political philosophy.
But yes, when their own or another government labels them as villains… what is a would be hero to do? It’s that conflict that I find interesting and engaging.

Case in point, to what length is Mehit going to go if Nabhani takes up a political position to oppose Project Jericho? Would she assassinate him? What if he became Prime Minister? What should a group of government sponsored heroes do if they run across La Segador in Texas? She’s wanted, after all…

And Human Flesh if the Preacherbot is to be believed, but I will be shamelessly stealing many of these once the core book comes out.

I also really love the ambiguity to a lot of the international rivals this last month. Because they are villains, but a couple of them, or members of some organizations could be allies or sources of intel with the right motivations or concientious pressures, and I love it

Alright, thanks for clearing that up. :)

I think I'm just too used to the silver age that Sotm takes place in where there's a clearer line between "good" and "evil", but this is meant to take place in the modern age of comics, or maybe even past that, so this makes sense.

Very much meant to have modern sensibilities, these. And, of course, you’re talking to the guy who literally wrote the book on Iron Age comics… http://www.drivethrurpg.com/m/product/133245

Oh, that's pretty cool! Although I gotta say, that book seems to be more focused on the dystopian side of modern comics, which is what I was kinda getting at when I said some of these look like they belong in the Miststorm timeline, which I think is meant to represent a different era from the Sc timeline.

Also, I'm not much of a comic buff outside of Sotm, so I don't even know what the iron age is.

Within the context of CSW, we define the Iron Age as starting in 1983 (with the first major crossover event comics like Secret Wars and Contest of Champions) up through the Marvel bankruptcy in 1996.

This is not to say that every comic published in this time frame is an Iron Age style book – just that they were more prevalent during this time. Iron Age books are still being published today, in what many call the Modern Age of Comics (and what I like to think of as the Celluloid Age).

Iron Age comics tended to be more grounded, with a greater focus on realism and are often rooted in deeper social issues of the time. Powers are downplayed somewhat in favor of heavy investigation and inter- character conflict, with echoes of comics’ roots in the noir and pulp tradition. Costumes became less colorful and more functional, with Sam increasing number of heroes wielding guns and other weapons. Target readership age increased, which came with a commensurate increase in ‘mature’ content, though the worst Iron Age books saw this as nothing more than an opportunity to pander to readers with over-the-top sex and violence.

Most notably, both art and writing took a great leap forward in the Iron Age. Denny O’Neil, Alan Moore, Frank Miller, Grant Morrison, Neil Gaiman, Garth Ennis, Greg Rucka, and Mark Millar all are noted Iron Age writers, with artists like Todd McFarlane, Dave McKean, and Mike Mignola providing the pictures.

The most notable Iron Age book is undoubtedly Watchmen, followed by The Dark Knight Returns and Frank Miller’s run on Daredevil. Probably my favorite Iron Age book, though, is Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth by Grant Morrison, which takes many off its beats from Morrison’s experience with the Egyptian tarot. I’m also quite fond of Denny O’Neil’s run on The Question, which is a full reimagining of the character from its roots in Objectivism.

Ah, I see. Then what's the age after/before that?

Prior to?  The Bronze Age--About 1970 until 1983.  A relaxed viewpoint on the comics code (particularly in terms of horror comics), an interest in racial and social issues (Denny O'Neil's Green Lantern/Green Arrow run is seminal Bronze Age reading), and an increased focus on topical/timely elements.  Chris Claremont's run on X-Men is something of the bridge between Bronze and Iron Age comics.

Afterwards?  Most people call it the Modern Age, for lack of something better.  I've heard the "Electrum" Age, as it's a blending of metals--we have books now that are very heavily Silver-Age influenced and, right next to it on the shelf, a gritty-crime-drama Iron Age title.  I'm pretty much alone in calling this the "Celluloid" Age:  comics being used as properties for the purpose of creating, publicising, and expanding upon tentpole films and TV series.  

PlatnumWarlock giving me low key comic recommendations without meaning to... Also, I to am really enjoying the superpowered soldier is the enemy vibes. For one can see how from there upbringing and viewpoint the others are wrong 

Villain of the Day:  February 13 (General Cordillera)

Diego Gaston Dorrego did not set out to become the ruler of Uruguay.  But when circumstance and opportunity rose their twin heads, he certainly did not hesitate.

Uruguay's government was already instable when Dorrego came of age, though he was a firm believer in law and order.  The son of a minor military official, Dorrego attended military academy in Montevideo and rose to the rank of Second Lieutenant through hardwork, skulduggery, and a few greased palms.  Both a capable tactician and a canny politician, Dorrego knew that the prior ruler--President Jose Mujica--hung to his power with tenuous fingers and was entirely reliant upon the military for backing.

What few knew, though, was the Dorrego was a potent metahuman, in addition to a noted military leader.  Able to manipulate and shape rock, Dorrego could also propel himself along stone and rock surfaces at an extreme rate, pulling the earth along behind him in a massive wake of destruction, effectively becoming a living avalanche.  Where his powers come from, however, is anyone's guess.  Some believe that he may have effectively paid some nefarious party for his powers; others believe him to be a latent Omega.  

Regardless of his powers' source, Dorrego, now calling himself General Cordillera, declared a coup on the Uruguayan government less than a year before the OblivAeon crisis.  Despite the brutality of his military followers--over 400 people died as Cordillera moved on the palace in Montevideo--the new military-led governement was recognized by the United Nations not four month later.  The United States has moved towards sanctions on Uruguay, citing Cordillera's status as the dictator of a rogue state, though these have been hung up in political entanglements.

To this day, General Cordillera rules Uruguay with a stone fist.  His state has become known as the only nation to harbor rogue or wanted metahumans, who are often given positions of power within Cordillera's government.  Cordillera has discussed joint military maneuvers with Iran and North Korea at various points, leading to further strain with the United States and its allies.  Arms trafficking, biomedical experimentation, and worse have become staples of the Uruguayan economy, which benefits only Cordillera's ruling class.  And, given the current political rhetoric, how will the supers of the world react to a second full-on supervillain as its leader...particularly one willing to work with terrorist states?

"…you wear a flag on your chest and think you fight a battle of nations!  I have seen the future, Captain!  There are no flags!"

Villain of the Day:  February 14 (Calvin Davies and the Sommerland Collective)

In amidst the hubbub of Brexit and the movement towards Scottish independence, another movement has gone nearly unnoticed.  However, the events transpiring at Conwy Castle in Wales may be of greater import than any other in the United Kingdom.

Calvin Davies was a data entry specialist at a firm outside of Manchester.  Generally speaking, he was unfulfilled, mildly depressed, and walked through life in a relative malaise.  When Netflix and curry failed to amuse, he actively began to search online for a new hobby.  His search led him to a community center for the Sommerland Community Collective, a group operating out a former resort building in Llandudno.  

Without mincing words, the Sommerland Community Collective was nothing short of a cult.  Their leader, one Jeremy MacGruder, grew up in a New Age household and believed he could share his message of peace, non-violent resistance, and chemical transcendance with the community at large.  His success in this arena was fairly limited, until Calvin arrived at his door.

After Calvin's third "experience" with MacGruder's psychotropics, something within him emerged.  A latent Omega (as he later discovered), Calvin was able to exude an aura of calm and passivity, influencing the emotions of all those around him.  MacGruder quickly rose Calvin through the ranks in the Collective, with Calvin swiftly becoming his second-in-command.  Were these powers restricted to the Collective, this would be one thing.  However, such was not the case.

Calvin's continual use of his power allowed him to expand his range, covering the vast majority of Conwy County.  Citizens throughout the province began falling into docility, with the Collective's recruiting efforts kicking into hyperdrive.  Work went abandoned, public services evaporated, and the citizens of Conwy began to gather at Conwy Castle to listen to MacGruder's message of peace.  Within weeks, much of the county was under the complete and total sway of Jeremy, Calvin, and the Sommerland Collective.  

The British government has responded to the Sommerland Collective with great alarm, declaring the group a domestic terrorist organization.  Efforts to recover Conwy have only resulted in more individuals--highly trained SAS agents, no less--joining the Collective.  Calvin's power aura continues to spread, though, carving an ever-larger swath out of Wales.  And with his aura, so grows the Collective...

Villain of the Day:  February 15 (Secutarus)

"Rome will exist as long as the Coliseum does; when the Coliseum falls, so will Rome; when Rome falls, so will the world." --Venerable Bede, Saint

Arturo Amalio could have been the pride of Italy; instead, he chose wealth.  A born metahuman, Arturo exhibited a phenomenal degree of strength and endurance, coupled with a preternatural aptitude for armed combat.  As a child, he idolized the stories of Ancient Rome, particularly those of the gladiators in the great Coliseum.

As a teenager and adult, though, his metahuman abilities began to lead him down a path of greed and petulance.  His abilities caught the eye of a local Camorra mafioso, spending a few weeks on the mainland from Sicily.  Arturo's natural strength and intimidating demeanor made him an excellent leg-breaker, though Arturo himself wasn't satisfied with just the scraps handed down to him from the consigliere.  Rather, he knew he could join the top of the heap.

As such, he proposed a meeting with the capo with a new idea.  Underground fighting rings were no new concept, but one that catered specifically to high rollers?  One that featured metahuman-only fights?  Now, Arturo was on to something.

Today, Arturo runs the single largest underground metahuman fighting league this side of the Bloodsworn Coliseum.  His persona as manager is one straight out of his childhood fantasies--he dresses in a toga and loincloth, wielding gladiatorial weapons, and is referred to only as Secutarus.  Bets on various metahuman fights typically range in the tens of thousands of dollars, and numerous high-rollers spend entire evenings, alternating back-room deals with bone-crunching cage matches.  On occasion, Secutarus enters the ring himself, though usually only in the style of Vince McMahon in the WWE--done only to continue the drama and theatrics of the arena.  On the few times where Secutarus fought "for real", the ease with which he dispatched his foes was an act of blood-spattered beauty.

Secutarus' Coliseum currently brings in tens of millions of dollars each year, providing funding for numerous Camorra operations throughout the world.  And, of course, if you need to find someone of note, Secutarus probably has had them in-house.

After reading that one, my immediate thought was "I wish this was real", and I don't know if I meant in Sentinels lore or in the real world. c.c;

Villain of the Day:  February 16 (The Wall)

It's said that old buildings have a power to them, a spirit bestowed upon them by decades of persons within.

If this is the case, the entity known as The Wall may be one of the most powerful to ever walk the Earth.

The People's Republic of China has been ominously silent during the rise of the American metahumans.  Many have surmised that China's military had been secretly recruiting, creating, or otherwise developing their own metahuman security contingencies.  However, throughout the past twenty years, China has become one of the biggest detractors of metahumans on the UN Security Council.  Lieutenant General Jian Hung Zhao has spearheaded this efforts, continually encouraging sanctions or peacekeeping actions against nations that incorporate metahumans into their existing military or law enforcement hierarchies.

Needless to say, General Zhao's efforts have placed him into the minority, with so many other nations taking up the exact viewpoint that Zhao would see removed.  And, as OblivAeon descended upon the world, even Zhao and his mainland commanders were left wondering what direction the PRC should take--conventional arms seemed ineffective in the face of Aeon Men, and not even China's world-leading air force could stand against even a single scion.

That's when The Wall emerged.  Literally stepping forth from the tower known as Old Dragon's Head in Shanhaiguan Pass, a gigantic colossus of stone and mortar strode towards besieged Beijing, sweeping aside Aeon Men like leaves tossed in a storm.  The PRC's military leaders were stunned.  As OblivAeon's forces withdrew from China--presumably to attack some other part of the world--The Wall strode among the crowded city, holding up crumbling skyscrapers and even serving as a living bridge while citizens fled from a fire.  

Attempts to communicate with The Wall have been fairly unsuccessful to date, though a few things are clear:  The Wall seems to be animated by the spiritual essence of each person to ever have walked along its stones.  Because of this, it has an almost intuitive feel for where it might be needed, always seeming to show up alongside the Chinese military when attempting to put down a metahuman threat or any aggression from a rival nation.  The Wall regenerates almost as fast as it can be damaged, making it nigh invulnerable.  Further, The Wall has a decided antipathy against any creatures associated with or harboring powers derived from OblivAeon.  This has led to several international incidents as latent metahumans--some not even knowing they *had* powers--being attacked as their plane landed or their boat arrived in port.  These attacks have even included Chinese scientists attempting to study a fragment of an OblivAeon shard, which utterly devastated a military base outside of Shanghai.  

Regardless of its reasoning or motives, The Wall has become the titan of China, defending against all interlopers as it has for thousands of years prior.

Secutarus: You know, considering both what he does and where he lives, this guy would make a perfect nemesis for my character the Penitent, who I wrote about in the Hero Ideas thread. I'm curious, though, do they kidnap metahumans and force them to fight, or do they look for volunteers? I can't imagine either would be easy.

The Wall: I'm so sorry, but the moment I heard that name my first thought was,


Re: Secutarus
A little bit of both, really. He has a network of regular fighters, but occasional enemies and captives end up as targets. Mainly scheduled, willing fighters though.

I kind of wish the Wall wasn't in the villains thread now, he sounds great. :(

It’s also a barely sentient construct that will pursue and smash anyone even remotely affiliated with Oblivaeon that comes neat sovereign China…

But for all that, you have to admire its loyalty. It doesn't let a handicap like "barely being sentient" stop it from protecting what it cares about! :') What a trooper.

Villain of the Day:  February 17 (Dr. Emershan Laurent)

Number three on Interpol's most wanted list, Dr. Emershan Laurent is simultaneously one of bio-engineering's foremost minds and among the most conniving, twisted minds in the world.  

Born in Johannesburg, Laurent attended some of the world's foremost universities, double-majoring in Biochemistry and Biology at University of Copenhagen, before pursuing advanced degrees in Genetics, Molecular Biology and Biochemistry at Heidelberg, Utrecht, and Barcelona, respectively.  Laurent's second doctoral thesis, "On the Advancement of the Human Condition" is simultaneously regarded as a masterwork of transhumanist concepts and reviled by most oganizations as an attempt to legitimize racist rhetoric.  

Laurent's earliest job, at Polish genetics firm Genomax, was rife with ethical violations.  Laurent seemed to have no compunctions in how he treated test subjects and suggested experiments that made his compatriots question his very sanity.  Nevertheless, Laurent continued on, focusing primarily on creating and testing airborne retroviruses...

When the depths of his research were exposed, the Genomax board of directors immediately terminated his employment.  However, Laurent already had the backing of another group:  the Sicilian Camorra.  Laurent was given his own private island laboratory in the middle of the Mediterranean, where he began development of numerous biological weapons...and stranger things.  The wooded lands surrounding Laurent's lab soon were guarded not by mafioso, but rather by terrifying hybrid creatures, seeming more tumorous mass than men.  

Even the Camorra could not abide this madness.  The capo soon sent an armed force to the island...only for that force to be massacred by Laurent's genetic aberrations.  By the time word reached the Camorra of what happened, Laurent and his creatures had vanished.

Laurent has been sighted throughout the world since that time, often in unstable governments ruled by oligarchs.  Some have actively sought Laurent in search of longer life or cures to rare diseases, while other seek his expertise in the creation of biological weapons.  One raid by Interpol agents onto a suspected lab led to the release of numerous genetic horrors onto the streets of Bern, Switzerland, which has only caused his profile to rise among criminal circles.

Rumor has it that Laurent has begun work on a new project; one which has the capability of rewriting genetic material en-masse...

Villain of the Day:  February 18 (Duplex)

Born to parents from Northern Ireland in the British Virgin Isles, Brianna Donnally grew up watching heroes and villains clash on her tv and on the internet.  She was utterly enthralled.  Men flew through the air, women streaked through the streets with inhuman speed, and alien forces called down unfathomable forces with aplomb in both defense of earth and in usurpation of it.  She couldn't get enough.

But, despite living in an island paradise, Brianna found herself wanting more.  She got exactly that while at university, studying in Miami.  The Prime Wardens, locked in combat against a contingency of Lieutenant Viktor's gene-bound minions, long-since marooned on Earth since the Voss invasion.  Mere blocks away from the conflict, Brianna couldn't help but get a bit closer to for a better look.

As she watched the clash from behind an SUV, electrical power arced from Brianna's eyes, slamming into a nearby lightpole.  As her vision cleared and she stumbled to the ground in alarm, she watched as Tempest had done nearly the exact same motion, lightning arcing into a Gene-Bound Minion.  The battle continued on, though Brianna wandered the streets, lightning arcing from her palms, her eyes, and her fingertips.  Within a few moments, she realized that the power was entirely under her control--the powers once held only by Tempest himself were now hers.  As Captain Cosmic arced overhead, drawn by the peals of lightning emanating from Brianna, he dove towards her....only for her to throw up a shield of golden energy.

By this point, Brianna had realized the truth:  she could replicate metahuman abilities.  While she fled the field that day--her powers fading as she lost proximity to their source--she knew the truth.  She was born for something more.

Draining her parents' bank account and taking all she had from her own paltry savings, Brianna began to travel the world, putting herself as close to the world's metahumans as possible, trying on their powers one after another.  Over the next two years, she had experienced the powers of nearly every public metahuman in the world, both heroes and villains alike.  Furthermore, she found that, given a degree of focus and observation, she could even replicate non-metahuman skills such as marksmanship, martial arts abilities, and athletic feats.  

That was when she was approached by the Russian government.  Brianna was offered an exorbitant sum of money, a palatial home, new cars and more....all to do exactly what she loved:  find her way into proximity to known metahumans, skirmish with them if possible, duplicate their powers, and then report back to the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service.  To date, codename Duplex has catalogued and duplicated over four dozen known heroes, two dozen villains, and countless other minor threats.  Further, she has trained in covert operations, infiltration and exfiltration, krav maga, and marksmanship.

Few know that Duplex even exists at this point, but when she emerges, she will surely be a force to be reckoned with.  ...to say nothing of what the Russians themselves are planning above Duplex's paygrade.

Villain of the Day:  February 19 (The Financier)

Much has been made over the years about corporate tax shelters and the ability for persons of significant wealth to store their assets overseas, dodging taxation in their home nations.  Offshore accounts have often been the realm of the proverbial 1%...but now?  The assets of known supervillains are left in the hands of The Financier.

None know his true identity; The Financier works only through proxies and functionaries.  After achieving a certain level of wealth and status within the global community, a villain might receive a cell phone call from an unregistered number, with its international code designated in the Cayman Islands.  The call is only made once; a hang-up, a dropped call, or a refusal of service blacklists that villain in perpetuity.  However, upon acceptance of the offer, a meeting is set, often outside the United States in an area known for its poor security and easily-bribable police force.

The Financier provides three primary services for his clients:  1) wealth storage/investment, 2) money laundering and fencing, and 3) financing options to villains in need of capital.  Known to be a brilliant investor with a metahuman-level intellect, The Financier offers attractive rates and a method for villains to offload wealth into secured accounts that are considered to be among the worlds' most secure.  In the case of non-liquid capital, such as stolen items, The Financier curates one of the most heavily guarded "freeport" warehouses on Earth, accessible only by a thrice-daily changing password and biometrically linked security measures.  Finally, for those villains on the run or in need of a fresh start, the Financier offers liquid capital with most amenble terms, often based on a percentage of the villain's future take or upon the completion of specific operations necessary to maintain a certain investment.  

To date the only information currently available on The Financier has come from Vabanque, following his capture (and subsequent release) during a heist at a French casino resort.  Since that day, Vabanque has become even more desperate, pursuing larger and larger targets; could it be that he has been cut off by The Financier, or is the card-sharp finding himself owing a debt he can never repay?

Villain of the Day:  February 20 (Stampede)

Bettina Szilard always loved animals; she just never pictured that they'd be so useful to making her wealthy.

A zoologist at the Nahampoana Game Preserve on the island of Madagascar, Szilard was continually stymied by poachers, government interference, and an overall lack of funding.  In the face of numerous natural disasters and conflicts, monetary donations to the game preserve were quickly dwindling, not only was Bettina's job in deep jeopardy, but also the whole of the preserve.  

Bettina, though, had a plan.  While outside observers were always impressed by her affinity with animals, few knew the truth of the matter:  Bettina Szilard was an Omega, capable of not only communing with, but also conjuring various animals from nowhere.  In her day job, she limited these powers towards calming animals, easing animals' pain or distress, and genuinely making animals feel good.  But, through her animal friends, Bettina saw the opportunity to procure the funding she needed.

The announcement of a $100,000 gift to Nahampoana very neatly coincided with the first appearance of the masked villain known as Stampede.  Days prior, Stampede charged through one of the branches of the First Bank of Toliara on the back of a rhino, with other animals in tow to haul away the ill-gotten gains.  Within two weeks, another $50,000 gift arrived...neatly coinciding with a Stampede appearance at a resort casino and hotel.

Naturally, the link between Stampede and the game preserve was easily found by investigators and Bettina/Stampede soon found herself on the run.  Unfortunately, as The Naturalist has been known to say, the most dangerous animals are cornered beasts.  Stampede has been on the run since, making it first to the African mainland, then heading into the depths of the Central African jungles.  Stampede remains at large, only occasionally popping up in Cameroon, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and the Central African Republic.  In all cases, she raids supply houses--particularly of known poachers or even legitimate hunters, often destroying such bases and stealing whatever supplies she can carry off.  Stampede's most daring raid in recent years has been on a military encampment along the border between the CAR and South Sudan, though her motives there are quite unclear...

Villain of the Day:  February 21 (Masquerade)

With the increasing number of metahumans worldwide and the effective destruction of FILTER as a solvent organization, Interpol has had to steadily increase their efforts regarding metahuman crimes.  While world-threatening supervillains and criminal syndicates have typically fallen to the Sentinels of Freedom--despite increasing international friction--many 'lone gunman' metahumans have been relegated to more conventional law enforcement.  Chief among these is the shapeshifting figure known as Masquerade, currently sitting at #1 on Interpol's Most Wanted Metahumans list.

Little is truly known about Masquerade, beyond a few facts and a degree of conjecture.  Masquerade first appeared on the scene during a European Union conference in Berlin.  Vice-Attache Franz Biedermann made a stunning reversal during an EU summit meeting, forming a coalition against an arms-proliferation treaty.  This was particularly notable as the German position to date had been one of non-proliferation, hoping to stabilize Eastern Europe.  After the vote, however, Biedermann was found hanged in his hotel suite.  The mysterious figure posing as Biedermann?  Nowhere to be found.  However, even after a reconvenement of the conference, a pro-proliferation coalition managed to filibuster the vote, leaving no arms treaty in place.

Masquerade surfaced again at an MI5 sting operation, posing as a British Intelligence officer.  This time, they tipped off a series of Libyan terrorists as to the identity of several MI5 agents, leading to fourteen casualties and a terrorist organization now in possession of six long-range ballistic missiles.  Similar other incidents have occurred worldwide, with numerous countries' intelligence agencies left stymied by Masquerade's actions.

Secretary General of Interpol Morgann Fevre currently has a full team of investigators looking into Masquerade's crimes, but to little avail.  None know Masquerade's true identity or even their gender.  Fevre believes that Masquerade comes from Southern Italy or Corsica, as on two several occasions, a talisman known as Saint Lucy's Eye--the shell of the turban snail--have been left in sites known to have been infiltrated by Masquerade.  This has been corroborated by one occasion in which a Polish diplomat (who was later discovered to be Masquerade) was overheard humming a Corsican folk song; this was noted primarily due to the strange, polyphonic melody.  In both cases, these would fit the general locale of Masquerade's actions; all have been in either continental Europe or in Northern Africa.

To date, Masquerade is a ghost in the wind.  After all, how do you locate someone who literally has every face imaginable?

That's far more interesting than what your average face-stealing supervillain tends to get up to. :)

Gotta wonder what their objective is beyond causing pure chaos, if there is anything.

Villain of the Day:  February 22 (Eliot Marklund and Nautilus Industries)

"What can the man who has it all do for you?"  So opens one of the most famous advertisements for Nautilus Industries, one of the world's newest think-tanks and design firms.  Technology magnate Eliot Marklund, sitting in front of a fireplace, holding a glass of scotch, invites the viewers into his world of jet-skis, beautiful women, clean lines, and high adventure.  To date, he ranks among the most favorably viewed CEOs and executives, with a charismatic smile and a keen mind for negotiation and persuasion.  Born to an old-money family in Britain, Marklund had all the trappings and wit of a suave English gentlemen.  

Marklund founded Nautilus two years ago, personally headhunting the best designers, engineers, scientists, and technicians from the world over to engage in a series of high concept think-tanks.  With Marklund at their head, the group began setting forth a progressive design on the world:  free clean energy, high-speed global infrastructure, short-range inanimate telepotation-based shipping solutions, and biologically-enhanced farms.  While much of the think-tank's concepts were pipe dreams, enough of them were attainable enough that, when Marklund announced his departure from the CIO position at the Eaken-Rubendall Laboratories, it came as no surprise that he promptly founded Nautilus and caused an exodus to his new flagship venture.

Nautilus's primary facility is a privately-owned island in the Caribbean, about 40 miles northeast of Hispaniola.  Nautilus has literally become a self-sustaining facility unto itself, with housing, numerous amenities, and the finest in laboratory and work-station facilities, with Marklund himself living in a palatial apartment high atop the island's central mountain, with the occasional visitors to Nautilus residing in the relative equivalent of a four-starred hotel just off the laboratory campus.  Marklund's employees eat and live for free at Nautilus, with their (particularly substantial) pay deposited into tax-sheltered offshore accounts for their private use.  The myriad patents and copyrights now held by Nautilus have made Marklund and its silent angel investors immensely wealthy, with Nautilus' net worth approaching the trillion dollar mark.

Many have begun to question, however:  what exactly does Nautilus do?  While the Nautilus logo appears on few consumer products, Nautilus caters primarily to the world's governments, providing their phenomenal technological innovations at a premium price.  Of particular concern--particularly from scientists within Nautilus itself--has been an increasing focus on dimensional folding and extraction of energy from spaces outside of the current dimensional paradigm.  Even the most favored visitors to Nautilus are kept from visiting Design Bay L, wherein the strangest research is said to take place...

Villain of the Day:  February 23 (Wayang, The Puppet Man)

The art of glove puppetry has always had a special place within Taiwanese Culture.  Dating from the 17th century, puppetry has been used to tell epic tales of heroes, dragons, and other legends throughout time.  Chia-wei Tseng has turned this art form into a thing of horror.

First appearing in Hong Kong, the figure known as Wayang, the Puppet Man emerged on the streets, seeming a mere alley-performer outside of Ms. Yeh's noodle shop.  Children would gather around to watch Tseng's famous puppet shows, following him from place to place, watching shows over and over again.  Ms. Yeh, though, was the first to notice:  the children had begun to mimic the actions that Tseng's puppets took on his ramshackle stage.  The old women went to approach Tseng...only to find her own actions limited, as if someone were pulling along her limbs.  Tseng smiled as she staggered, herky-jerky, back into her noodle shop. 

Those children never returned home.  Within a few weeks, Tseng had a whole series of new puppets.

The Taiwanese National Police Agency immediately began an island-wide investigation.  Children were disappearing at an alarming rate, with sightings of the mysterious Puppet Man attached to each disappearance.  Over time, the division managed to track Wayang to a port warehouse in Keelung City, just north of Taipei.  

Fourteen armed members of Taiwan's storied Fifth Corps entered that warehouse.  Three managed to emerge, their bodies twisted and broken from Wayang's mysterious manipulation.  The others?  Shredded by a seeming legion of puppets, animated by Wayang's power and wielding everything from hypodermic needles and razor blades to forgotten kitchen knives.  Their wood-carved faces each bore the depiction of one of the children Wayang had abducted.  Now, as a legion of construct servents, they serve him...

I think you changed his name in the middle, from Tseng. >.>

Chia-Wei Tseng is the actual name of Wayang. Same guy…

Ugh, I can't read, ignore me. D:

Villain of the Day:  February 24th (Eidolon)

Within the realm of the ultra-wealthy, there exists a concept known as the "freeport".  Within certain logistical hubs or port cities, freeports serve as massive warehouse repositories where non-liquid assets--art, sculpture, gemstones, precious metal ingots, and the like--are securely held for their owners.  One solitary user at such freeport singley holds more than 3,000 unique art pieces from the world's great masters; by comparison, the British National Gallery holds only approximately 2,300 unique art pieces.

Transactions made in a freeport are made effectively tax-free--taxes are only paid by the owner upon their withdrawal from the freeport itself--which makes freeports an ideal place to do business for the financially elite.  Such warehouses have the finest in the world's security--biometric locks, vibration-sensitive walls, and titanium-alloy vault walls--and their use certainly does not come cheaply.  Average yearly cost of a 10' by 10' room in a freeport is around $20,000 US.

Eidolon robs freeports.

Born Anja Golic outside of Zagreb, Croatia, Eidolon was raised on the streets by a borderline-alcoholic mother who lost her husband during the Bosnian conflict in the late 1990s.  Growing up, Anja quickly found herself frustrated with her lot in life.  So close to the Adriatic coast, she could easily watch Europe's elite cavort and enjoy the coastal resorts.  They flung their money around with aplomb; they never knew hunger or fear or warfare.  They only knew luxury and wealth...and Anja was ready to take it from them.

For years, Anja had practiced as a pickpocket, but only as a teenager did her metahuman abilities develop. Anja found herself with the ability to shift her atomic structure into a separate dimension, becoming translucent and effectively able to phase through solid objects.  Over time, she found that she was further able to disrupt electrical and electronic flow, functionally serving as a living EMP generator who could disable electronics merely by touching them.  

Anja spent three years in the Croatian military's engineering corps, learning basic combat skills as well as systemic-engineering.  After this, her plans began in earnest.

First Le Freeport Luxembourg; that netted her over $15m in gemstones, as well as five pieces of Renaissance era art.  Next came Zurich and Geneva:  another $8m in precious metals, a state-of-the-art concept car from Mercedes-Benz, and a series of small sculptures dating back to the Etruscans.  

Eidolon shows no signs of stopping, having been sighted across Europe, the United States, in Japan, and in Hong Kong.  She has only been confronted three times; upon each occasion, Eidolon has managed to take down multiple armed combatants, many of whom died of internal trauma, as Eidolon would phase back into reality, literally grasping their heart or other internal organs.  The world's freeports have stepped up security across the board, increasing both passive and active security measures, even as their clients have started to pull out.  

However, to date, Eidolon has targeted and successfully robbed no less than 12 separate freeports across the world.  While she shows no signs of stopping, her efforts are beginning to draw attention...

Villain of the Day:  February 25th  (Komodo)

The villain known as Komodo isn't a complicated man.  In fact, he's barely a man.

Komodo grew up in the jungles of Indonesia, on the island of Gili Motang.  As an apex predator, he spent the majority of his time crawling through the underbrush, ambushing birds, mammals, and other creatures he could sneak up on....just like any other lizard.  

Human, however, was a particularly tasty treat.  While he'd only ever manage to eat human twice--once from a dead hiker, having fallen while climbing up a steep hill; once more from a small child, lost in the depths of the jungle--the sweet, sweet taste of human flesh consumed his mind.  Surely, there could be a way to have more.

Had this particular komodo dragon continued on its current course, it surely would have been killed by the residents of Gili Motang, as it had encroached closer and closer to civilization, in search of an easy meal.  However, Isoflux Alpha had something to say about that.

While still digesting the remains of the two humans, the creature found itself in a pool rife with the mysterious chemicals, and quickly began a strange evolution.  The DNA therein blended with his own, rewriting his basic genetic structure and turning him into a man-sized, bipedal creature with an expanding intelligence.  Within weeks, Komodo could speak and reason...and hunt.

Indonesian authorities attempted to track down the killer creature, but to little avail, primarily because Komodo had already left.  Having met with a strange man from a place called South Africa, Komodo found himself on the Indian subcontinent, serving as a personal bodyguard for this Dr. Laurent, and being fed all the dead man-flesh  he could eat.  

As a combatant, Komodo is particularly dangerous, with superhuman strength, a scaled hide, a lashing tail, and a lethal bite.  Two glands within Komodo's jaw secrete toxic proteins making his bite particularly venomous, but also difficult to heal, as the proteins act as natural anticoagulants.  Many of Komodo's victims have outright bled to death, even after Komodo himself has retreated.  He is utterly loyal to Laurent, though Komodo is particularly cunning and is always on the lookout for a better offer...

Villain of the Day:  February 26 (Leopard Walks Over Glass, the Jomo Darkala)

Daga is a tiny town nestled in the Bhutan Himalayas, home to just over a thousand souls.  Or, at least it was.

The patron spirit of Daga for centuries has been the Jomo Darkala:  a force represented in sculpture by a black-necked crane, its wings spread wide as if about to take flight.  The Jomo Darkala supposedly brought temperate weather, health and success to the villagers, and safety to the town itself. As the town's patron spirit, the local Shaolin temple revered the black-necked crane, using it as a precept for the education of the martial arts.  Within the temple proper, the statuary of the Buddha with the crane alight upon his palm served as a sanctuary of peace and safety for all.

Little did the populace know, but the actual spirit of the Jomo Darkala was inherently tied to that statuary.  A primal force dating back milennia, the Jomo Darkala traded its physical body for a step towards enlightenment, literally on the hand of the Buddha, where it could guide the people of Daga towards nirvana.

Then came the stranger.  A surly, goateed man, he called himself Leopard in Snow.  He claimed to want to train at the temple, offering reverence to the Buddha and to the temple master.  However, it quickly became apparent that Leopard in Snow wanted much more than simple sparring partners.  His mastery of Wing Chun was unsurpassed and he defeated even the most veteran monastics with ease.  "More!" he bellowed, "Have you none better?!"  

The grand-master of the temple--a stern, wizened man who had taken a vow of silence--stepped forward, his bamboo staff a blur of motion.  Grimacing, Leopard in Snow reached forward, snapped the staff in twain, and flung the grand-master through a display cabinet before the Buddha.  Injured, the grand-master called out to the Jomo Darkala for aid; amazingly, the spirit rose from the statuary and made to inhabit the old man's body....until Leopard in Snow interposed himself.  He grasped the spirit with a Phantom Palm technique, drawing it into himself.  For what seemed like hours--yet took only seconds--Leopard in Snow's consciousness fought with the Jomo Darkala.  Eventually, the surly stranger bested the defender spirit, subjugating it and taking its power for its own.

Having stolen the spirit's power, Leopard in Snow stepped forward over the shattered display cabinet, slew the grand-master with his bare hands, and left the broken body at the sundered Buddha's feet.  Dubbing himself Leopard Walks Over Glass, the stranger left as quickly as he came, with Daga burning behind him.

Leopard Walks Over Glass wanders the Earth, seeking mastery over all martial and spiritual arts.  While he is not a magician, per se, the forces he commands border on the supernatural, and his mastery of Wing Chun martial arts is unparalleled.  He craves power and mastery, and is eager to challenge himself against any who might prove a worthy combatant.  He cares little for wealth or political power; rather, he strives for personal mastery and will stop at nothing to gain that perfection.

Now there's a villain for you! :D

Villain of the Day: February 27 (Apollyon, The Trumpet of Revelation)

"Lord, make me an instrument of war.  Where there is blasphemy, let me reap blood.  Where there is impiety, let me bring wrath.  Where there is doubt, let me command.  Where there is deviation, may I bring rapture.  And where there is no faith, eternal night."

The man now calling himself Apollyon did not begin as the zealot he is now.   Growing up, Jozef Anton was raised in a strict Catholic household, attending mass thrice-weekly and serving as an altar boy, a Eucharistic minister, and even as a lay-priest.  While strict, his faith was wholesome--he was a believer in peace, mercy, and forgiveness.  As an adult, Jozef maintained his faith, becoming a theology teacher at a parochial school in Trieste, on the border of Italy and Slovenia.  

As OblivAeon first manifested in the skies over the Mediterranean, Jozef was fully convinced that the Biblical apocalypse was upon him.  As heroes and scions clashed over the Adriatic, as Basilica of St. Peter's shook and crumbled, Jozef prayed for the forgiveness of this world.  Something, somewhere answered his prayers.

As Apollyon, Jozef is absolutely convinced that the apocalypse, as delineated in the Book of Revelations and several apocryphal documents, has begun, and it is his role to act as of the herald of the impending Four Horsemen.  As such, he began traveling the world in naught but a simple brown cassock and a crown of thorns.  While inhumanly strong, Apollyon's true power comes from a red-orange nimbus of energy that allows him some degree of levitation, increased toughness and durability, and the ability to lash out with searing blasts of energy.  After a raid on a medieval-era church in France, Apollyon has been seen wielding a barbed scourge as well as a spiked censer on a long chain, both of which have been known to cause wounds that bleed profusely and are notoriously hard to mend.

One of Apollyon's stated goals has been the utter annihilation of all non-Christian faiths, as well as the forced conversion or destruction of groups that actively stand against religion.  He has attacked Islamic countries on numerous occasions, and came close to overthrowing Jerusalem, before being driven back by the Israeli Military, several international heroes, and Project: Jericho.  Apollyon is labeled by nearly every major government on Earth as a terrorist, though certain extremist Christian groups have, in fact, offered Apollyon safe-harbor, deludedly believing in his vision of apocalypse and a Christian ascendency.

With his self-professed faith, Fanatic was among the first heroes consulted when Apollyon emerged in Istanbul, assaulting the remains of the Hagia Sophia.  However, while she was quick to fight against such a villain that would twist the words of her faith, it quickly became apparent that his own abilities bore no similarity to her own.  Some magically-attuned heroes have detected a degree of Void energy emanating from Apollyon, though none have had the opportunity to investigate this further.

With the quickly escalating metahuman arms race in the Middle East, it may well be a Christian terrorist that ignites the world into war.  And that's just what he wants...

Villain of the Day:  February 28 (The Annihilationists)

Some men just want to watch the world burn.  The Annihilationists have a front row seat to the inferno.

A cabal of 5 enigmatic plutocrats from across the world, The Annihilationists have a deep-seated belief that the world is overdue for its destruction.  Between the Celestial Tribunal, Baron Blade's Terralunar Beam, Deadline's incursion, and eventually OblivAeon, this group of individuals believe that humanity has fully run its course and deserves nothing more than annihilation.  In the past, they have been satisfied in watching the world slowly move towards entropy; but now, they have begun to mobilize their resources towards making the apocalypse into a reality.

Not much is known about the true identities of The Annihilationists.  At least one is an American industrialist, while at least one other is a high-ranking political figure from either Russia or Eastern Europe.  The five Annihilationists only gather once per year at The Refuge--a massive vault/bunker built beneath one of the Austrian Alps--to provide in-person updates as to their progress in destroying all life on Earth and to survey the castle that will be their final home and their tomb.  Two of them have no explicit metahuman abilities, while at least one is capable of discordian sorcery.

Having watched so many failed apocalypses, The Annihilationists have begun to provide subtle manipulations necessary to bring about mankind's downfall.  While in the past, this might have been something along the lines of trying to acquire and activate the terralunar impulsion beam, their machinations have become much more discreet.  Over the past 15 years, The Annihilationists have utilized their status, wealth, and position within society to orchestrate a global metahuman conflict capable of devastating the globe.  They act through proxies, such as Dr. Emershan Laurent, or field operatives such as Masquerade.  To each these, they have promised a seat within The Refuge, whereupon they will live like kings while the remainder of Earth burns.

Currently, The Annihilationists' global chess board is not quite set.  While the Middle East has become a volatile powder keg, the United States grapples with internal strife, and the European Union struggles with general security, The Annihilationists are nothing if not thorough.  They want armageddon, not a mere battle or even a world war.  In time, only a few pieces will remain before the world plunges into global conflict, with metahuman soldiers entering an unlimited, nuclear/biological/chemical battlefield.  And on that day, The Annihilationists will retire to their Refuge and watch the world burn.

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This brings to an end the second month of our Villains of the Day series.

Next month, it's Mystic characters for March!  Villains with sorcerous, arcane, eldritch, or occult powers and origins.

Welcome to March:  Home of the Mystic, occult, arcane and outright weird.

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Villain of the Day:  March 1 (Mad-Man)

Erikson Sanitarium for the Mentally Disturbed has a poor reputation.  As the premier mental health services facility in Rook City, the Sanitarium is torn between serving as an incarceration ward for the most violently-psychotic criminals and as a geniune service for those in need of mental-health assistance.  While there is a stigma for some to receive therapy or counseling from Erikson Sanitarium, the romanesque building looms over the trees of Overbrook State Forest, ever watching over Rook City below.  Its labyrinthine halls are home to many who have lost hope, both inmate and doctor alike.

Enter one Dr. Nelson Samuels.  A doctor of psychiatry, he served for years as one of Erikson's premier doctors, aiding the mentally ill for years.  Samuels specialized in schizophrenic disorders, often working with the elderly and with patients who were indefinitely institutionalized.  One of the Samuels' latter patients was Zachary Cooper.  After a harrowing (and quite enigmatic) encounter in the swamps outside of Rook City, Zachary had snapped, his personality vacillating between numerous fragments.  Zachary's only outlet?  His art, which was one Zachary's few passions before that fateful encounter.

None know exactly what happened to Dr. Samuels.  Some thought that the stress of his position, coupled with some home-life stressors, finally caused him to break.  As with most things, the truth is much stranger.  Latent within Cooper's art were the fragments of an ancient ritual, with arcane symbols and words to an incantation scattered across countless sketches and paintings.

Fleeing Erikson Sanitarium with Cooper's art, Dr. Samuels next emerged in the midst of Rook City mall.  Anyone who met his gaze was flung into a headlong, slavering madness.  When Rook City police finally managed to regain control of the mall, four people were dead and countless others injured from the fracas.  Seven other, similar incidents have struck, each time the Mad-Man leaving nothing but chaos and insanity in his wake.

A memetic ritual hidden in art! Great idea! :D

Villain of the Day:  March 2 (The Helicopter Dead of St. Joseph's Parish)

The town of Derry, Pennsylvania is a town living in trauma.  To drive through the town now, you'd find mainly a series of run-down industrial plants, some apartments bordering on tenements, and the Catholic Church of St. Joseph nestled in among the foothills of the Laurel Mountains.  The streets are quiet, with few out and about, simply because there is so little remaining to Derry.

In 1978, this was not the case.  In 1978, Derry was a bustling town, eager to celebrate its annual Labor Day celebration with a parade featuring the the Derry Trojan Marching Band and a festival, featuring games, carnival food, and rides.  The featured attraction, however, was the grand giveaway.  At 3pm, a Hughes 269C civilian helicopter took off from the local Latrobe Airport, with a load of ping-pong balls, set to drop into the St. Joseph's Parish parking lot.  Colored balls within the sea of white, represented a range of prizes from a new Atari 2600 game system to a color TV to $500 cash.  At 3:18, the helicopter arrived, hovering over the mass of eagerly awaiting revelers.

At 3:19, the helicopter plunged into the crowd.

The number of dead numbered in the hundreds.  Blood spattered the streets, limbs flew akimbo, and shrapnel from the flaming wreckage scattered across the churchyard.  The screams of the injured and dying filled the town.  For hours, emergency personnel scoured the carnival, placing severed limbs and body parts into plastic bags, unable to tell from whence they came.

To this day, no one knows what caused the plane to crash, but something changed in Derry that day.  The town's economy nose-dived, the citizens began moving away in droves.  Naturally, the Labor Day festival was never held again; rather, Derry began celebrating "Railroad Days" the weekend following.  If someone asked about the incident, no one ever seemed to know what happened.  Or, if they did, they would not speak of it.

The first spectre appeared on Labor Day, 1987.  Standing in the lot at St. Joseph's, the ephemeral form of a little girl, her head split in twain and missing her left arm, stood staring at the night sky.  Only one person engaged her that day--Gerald Berman, a traveler from Rook City.  Gerald's body was found in the first pew at St. Joseph's, his wounds identical to that of the victim.

Since then, the Helicopter Dead of St. Joseph's Parish have struck every year on the evening of Labor Day.  An out-of-towner trapped within Derry is hunted by the undead spirits, their bodies emerging the next day in the pews at St. Joseph's.  

And the citizens of Derry?  They don't want to talk about it.  Just let it go; you wouldn't understand...

Villain of the Day: March 3 (The Spirit Eater)

Miles Lawson knows the truth of this world. After the events of OblivAeon, it swiftly became apparent to the world that the physical theory of multiverses was, in fact, correct, and that this realm was only one of many. During that event, Miles met himself. Or, rather, a version of himself that was a supervillain known as Wrathbringer. Wrathbringer was a Miles Lawson who was inhabited by a Host spirit of anger, bent on naught but chaos and destruction.

However, that alternate universe Miles maintained enough sanity and control to seek out his prime Earth counterpart for help. However, prime Miles was merely a man.... until the anger spirit took over the alternate-Miles and attacked prime-Miles. Prime-Miles held up his hands in defense, only to start leeching away the intrinsic power of the host spirit.

Within moments, he devoured the anger spirit utterly, leaving a panting, but free, alternate-Miles on his kitchen floor. Miles' eyes flared with power; his place in this world was finally clear. Today, the Spirit-Eater travels the world in search of any victims of possession, regardless of their origin. In all cases, he extracts the Host spirit, imbibing it and using it as a reserve of arcane energy. He has been known to release magical blasts, form illusions, and to influence others' emotions based upon the spirits he has most recently devoured.

And, with each dead Host spirit, his abilities only grow in strength.

Villain of the Day: March 4  (Archive)

As a librarian, Tina Grant had dedicated her life to the acquisition and preservation of knowledge.  As a burgeoning sorcerer, her mission has not changed...

Tina Grant had not been exposed to the arcane or occult throughout most of her life.  When hired into the University of Megalopolis' Library Special Collections department, she was placed in charge of the Armitage Memorial Book Reserve:  a depository of ancient texts from around the globe.  Always a gifted student and a prolific reader, Tina found her reading speed growing exponentially as she sat in her new position.  Soon, her reading and processing speed baffled both her coworkers and herself--she could easily scan a page for mere seconds, able to recall the words by rote with ease.

In actuality, Tina was a latent Omega; while others gained more flashy abilities, the Isoflux Alpha particles from her water-bottle provided her an absolute eidetic memory coupled with a verbal-linguistic intellect unmeasurable by current rating methods.  This, in and of itself, would be remarkable, had Tina not discovered something strange in the Armitage Reserve.

To the best of her ability, the strange book was a copy of the mysterious Execration Texts, written by Farooq Aman Ali am-Dhaegar, a 6th century Islamic sorcerer responsible for the destruction of the Library of Alexandria while serving under the Caliph Omar 'Amr ibn Al-'As.  The Execration Texts contained a number of powerful spells, including those summoning energy and beings from a realm that am-Dhaegar referred to as "Beyond the Mirrors".  

With that reading, Tina went utterly mad.  The words of the Execration Texts burned in her mind, coupled with an inhuman thirst for additional forbidden knowledge.  However, she was a creature of jealousy.  Tina burned the Armitage copy of the Execration Texts and left that very night.  Taking the name Archive, Tina travels the globe in search of arcane texts and forbidden scrolls.  Each time, upon finding such a text, she destroyed it, ensuring that she could serve as the gatekeeper to all arcane knowledge in perpetuity.

And next on her list?  The lost Tome of Elder Magic, held by the mistress of magic herself, Nightmist...

"The Execration Texts" is maybe the best name for a tome of dark magic I have ever seen. :D

Villain of the Day:  March 5 (Apep, the Devourer)

"Why is Ra?"

Since the initial rise of the Ennead and their takeover of Egypt, many scholars have asked just this question.  Why do Ra and the other members of the Ennead exist?  Why this set of deities and not, say, Zeus, Odin, or Coyote?

The answer is as simple as it is terrifying:  Apep.

In centuries past, the sorcerers of ancient Egypt began to draw power from a being now referred to--in the few sources one can find to discuss such a horrific place--as the Cthonic Realms.  Within, there lurked a creature of utter darkness and malevolence, a creature of infinite hunger which desired nothing more than to eat and to be worshipped.  Those misguided souls knew him as The Devourer, Apep, later known as Apophis.

Now, the ruling dynasties of Ancient Egypt were no stranger to superhuman abilities.  Oftentimes, great Pharaohs would, in fact, be metahumans of no small part.  One of them, wielding fire as a weapon, named himself Horus, Lord of the Sun.  Horus led a great purge of the followers of Apep during his rule, pursuing the Teeth of the Devourer across the land, driving them into the desert and into Nubia.  Horus gathered unto himself others like him, bestowing on them titles and wealth for their assistance in destroying the cult of Apep.  Among these were Nephthys, Shu, and the most powerful among them, Atum.

However, the reach of these cultists was long, and Horus and his band were soon at the mercy of the Teeth of the Devourer.  Using a fell ritual, they called upon the might of Apep and stole away the powers of Horus and his Ennead, sealing their strength into weapons that they, themselves could use against their enemies.

The Teeth of the Devourer, though, did not bank upon the might of the average Egyptian soldier.  Horus' chief general--Akhenaten, who later became Pharoah--led a sortie against the Teeth of the Devourer, driving them back into the depths and preventing the cultists from claiming the artifacts that they created.  While Horus and his Ennead died, Akhenaten took those relics and placed them in places of great honor, permitting their power to those who could use them in defense of the Nile and of Egypt.

Since those days, the Teeth of the Devourer have waged a silent war against the various incarnations of Horus.  At times, they seem to vanish; at others, they seem to snuff out any hope of Ra or Horus returning.  At their strongest, they assembled a great library in the depths of Alexandria, hidden beneath the more public library.  Within, they began to assemble a ritual necessary to bring forth Apep from his Cthonic prison.  However, an invasion from nearby Islamic forces crushed their hopes and cost them much in men and power as the library burned.

To this day, Apep thrashes against his bonds in the Cthonic ether.  Someday, when the relics of the Ennead are assembled, the Teeth of the Devourer will crush those bonds and Apep will emerge to devour the sun...

If there was ever one of your villains I wanted to be canon...

In case people didn't realize it, this one's actually based on a real event.  Except only 8 people died in our universe's version.

I know. I grew up in Derry. insert dramatic music riff

Oh cool!  I live in a small town in Pennsylvania too, so I knew Derry was a real place, which made me curious if that event was real too.

Villain of the Day:  March 6 (Warcaster Xemox)

In the floating cities of ancient Lemuria, the title of Warcaster was reserved for those few mighty arcanists capable of matching their occult skill with tactical acumen and martial prowess.  The Lemurian Warcasters led the charge as they cast down the now-sunken kingdom of Atlantis, ensuring that floating Lemuria would retain dominion over the Earth for all time.  In times of peace, though, the Warcasters served as the Imperial Vanguard for the Council of the Enlightened.  The Warcaster known as Xemox was not pleased with this lot in life.  He wanted more.

The OblivAeon crisis gave him just that chance.  As the skies burned and their reality was ended--merged with one in which Atlantis never ceded its dominion of the Earth--Xemox called upon a ritual that had been reserved for none but the most scholarly and discerning.  With the other Warcasters leading the charge against OblivAeon in the ur-Space beyond reality, Xemox entered the Council Treasury and absconded with a series of scrolls known as the Lexicon of Enigmas.  There, as the Lemurian capital crumbled to the earth, Xemox enacted a ritual to allow him to traverse the dimensions.

He ended up just outside of Rook City.

Warcaster Xemox has confronted the newfound Sentinels of Freedom numerous times, each time fighting the group of heroes to a stalemate.  Xemox wields a glaive with deadly strength, casting potent discordian spells with naught but a gesture.  However, Xemox has been at his most dangerous when attempting to enact spells from the Lexicon of Enigmas itself.  In each case, a powerful discharge of eldritch energy has been released, leveling buildings and utterly disintegrating any living beings within the wave of power.  These discharges seem far from the results that Xemox seems to be expecting, as each time this happens, he flies into a rage, attacking any present, blaming them for their interference.  

Harpy and the Argent Adept have posited that Xemox, along with Levistus of Thule, have been marooned in this reality following the destruction of OblivAeon.  However, their arcane energies simply do not mesh with the natural ambient magic of this reality's Earth.  Where casters in this reality are attuned to the natural ebb and flow of arcane energy along ley lines, these interdimensional interlopers call upon energies previously unseen, along ley lines that simply don't exist here.  Because Xemox and Levistus are forcing arcane energy along non-existent ley lines--or, worse, overloading the ley lines that do exist--their arcane abilities tend to have unpredicatble, wild results.  

However, while Levistus has sought to pursue this reality's arcane artifacts, Xemox has much more pragmatic aims.  Once he properly transposes the Lexicon of Enigmas into this reality's "lingua arcanum", this world will be his to rule.  Lemuria will rise once more, with Warcaster Xemox upon its throne.

I was born in Latrobe, but moved to Derry in 5th grade.  My parents own a horse farm there, so I get back into the 724 about twice a year.

Also, for those so interested:  http://triblive.com/x/pittsburghtrib/news/westmoreland/s_585822.html

Villain of the Day:  March 7 (The Hitchhiker)

Gerald DuTraitte died for the first time in 1844.

The Caribbean-born son of British landowners in the Virgin Islands, Gerald lived with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth.  His father owned and managed a large sugar-cane plantation, with Gerald's elder brother the likely candidate to take over the plantation upon their father's death.  As such, Gerald lived like one with all the money in the world, spending most of his time in debutante balls and gambling halls, drinking and womanizing his way through his sizable inheritance.

One such encounter, however, led to Gerald's first death.  An argument over a game of twenty-one with a Frenchman led to a beachside duel at sun-up; never a great shot nor quick on the draw, Gerald took a pistol shot to the gut.   The Frenchman stood over him as Gerald gasped for air, trying to hold in his innards.  With a derisive snort, Gerald's opponent quipped, "You might be a cheat at cards, but no one manages to cheat death."  Gerald's last words were a two-word reply:  "Watch me."

Gerald's consciousness awoke hours later, though not in the same form as previously.  Looking down, he found himself in the body of a native islander, living in a hovel outside his father's plantation.  Gerald panicked; he could hear the voice of the native somewhere nearby--the former consciousness of his new body imprisoned while he piloted the body like a ship.  Gerald immediately went to go home, but was dismissed almost immediately.  After all, who was this strange person claiming to be Gerald?

Over the decades, Gerald found that he could drift from person to person, suppressing that person's ego while he took control of their body and mannerisms.  While the original consciousness remained aware of what this strange Hitchhiker did within their body, they found the memories hazy and not easily accessed.  If his host body died, he merely would drift through the ether until he could find a new person in which to inhabit.  By 1900, Gerald managed to procure a sizable cache of hard assets, easily accessible through any of his temporary proxies, so long as he was in control of the body itself.  In 1948, Gerald took control of his first metahuman--a Golden Age heroine named Miss Marvelous, capable of superhuman strength and speed.  He spent nearly 15 years inhabiting her body, which explains her abrupt retirement and a sudden interest in the Hollywood social scene

Today, Gerald DuTraitte continues his life of hedonism, drifting from body to body, drinking in all the wealth, gratification, and pleasure he can.  He prefers metahumans over all other subjects, enjoying the increased power held by such individuals.  Detecting the Hitchhiker is difficult enough on its own; the question remains--how do you get him out?

Villain of the Day:  March 8 (Harold the Many)

Harold Bailey's head is full of demons.

Of course, he wasn't always that way.  Growing up in North Carolina, Harold's childhood was punctuated by tent revivals, summer church picnics, and a home life dominated by his Baptist mother.  Like most teenagers, Henry spent his adolescent years rebelling against his family's influence, dreaming of a life away from his one-horse town, perhaps to that glittering city of Megalopolis.  Upon graduating high school, Harry's wish was about to come true.  He was accepted to University of Connecticut--Megalopolis, into their creative writing program.  Despite his differences in views, his family was proud of him, throwing him a sizable graduation party on the grounds of the family's church.

Enter Amit.  The enigmatic gatekeeper of the underworld has continually worked towards sowing chaos throughout the world and releasing the denizens of the Abyss back into the waking mortal world.  Hoping to establish a fear locus in the American South, Ammit just so happened to release a group of slaving spirits into the cemetary adjoining to a certain North Carolina Churchyard.  And, as fate may have it, Harry happened to have taken a walk through that cemetary to get away from his overbearing relatives.

The abyssal spirits, hungry for blood and marrow, thundered into the graveyard, eager to possess the corpses therein.  Instead, they found Harry.

The denizens of the underworld range in both intelligence and in appearance.  Some are canny and calculating; others are savage and animalistic.  All of them are possessed of a singular desire--if a demon wants something, that demon will stop at nothing until it has the object of its desire.  For the 14 demons that Ammit released, that object was Harry.  The spirits descended upon him with a ravenous hunger, all intending to ride his body, using it for their dark purposes.

As you might figure, being possessed by 14 demonic spirits simultaneously tends to drive one mad.  Locked in conflict with the various demons, Harry has spent the last several years attempting to suppress the spirits as best he can, to little avail.  Each time a new demon takes ascendence in his consciousness, its personality overpowers the others, exhibiting a whole new set of abilities, personality quirks, and more.

The most domininant spirits within Harry are known as Baalphregor and Thall-Unturbek.  Baalphregor manifests as a brash, domineering demon who craves destruction and bloodshed.  It tends to favor traditionally demonic powers:  flight on bat-like wings that sprout from Harry's back, gouts of hellfire, and bloodstained talons.  Thaal-Unturbek, conversely, reveles in temptation, corruption, and decay.  As Thaal-Unturbek, Harry gains a dessicating touch and the ability to teleport through mirrored surfaces.

To this day, Harold the Many still strains and struggles against the 14 interlopers in his mind.  On the rare occasion that Harry regains control, he unfailingly contacts the Sentinels of Freedom, hoping that he can be captured and contained.  However, each time he has contacted them, one of his inner demons takes control, resulting in a phenomenal clash of sorcery and might.  One such clash utterly leveled the suburbs north of Richmond, Virginia, while another left the harbors of Baltimore decimated.  The only hero to have managed to make it to Harry has ben the new Legacy, who managed to lay a single hand upon his shoulder, before he lost control once more, tears streaming from his black, brimstone-limned eyes.

Villain of the Day:  March 9 (The Plague Doctor)

Dr. Marcus Nicholson doesn't believe in the supernatural.

A noted emergency physician at Overbrook Medical Centers, Nicholson has been witness to all manner of weirdness in Rook City, but any time that he has been confronted with something of arcane origin, he has done his best to come up with a 'rational explanation'.  In some cases, this has been entirely plausible:  tentacular wounds attributed to an aggravated rope-burn, cases of blindness brought on by radical sudden-onset hysteria.  His own abilities, however, have totally befuddled him.

Nicholson was on third shift late one night, when an two orderlies came charging into his wing with a patient on a gurney.  Catching just a glimpse as they rushed past, Nicholson reflexively gagged:  the patient's face and exposed skin were a tumorous mass of cysts, one of which actively moved as Nicholson watched.  The doctor shook his head, unbelieving, and the orderlies dashed through a set of double-doors.  Snapping to, Nicholson chased after them, "Wait, where are you...?"

As Marcus passed through the double-doors after the orderlies, the place in which he found himself was something of a horrific reflection of Overbrook Medical.  Hacked doors hung from rusted hinges, the muffled sobs of the agonized dying filled the air, and a pale green glow dimly lit the whole area.  Nicholson skidded to a stop.  Turning around, the door behind him was gone.  Ahead of him, the orderlies rushed their patient into a surgical arena, and Nicholson chased swiftly after.  Inside the arena, Nicholson found no trace of the orderlies; rather, only the patient remained, writhing on the table.  As Nicholson moved to examine her, she let loose a hideous scream, bursting into a pustulent mass of ichor and bile...and everything went black.

Marcus awoke on the floor of an unoccupied ER room back in Overbrook Medical.  Three nurses, two orderlies, and a security guard clustered around him; a nurse asked him, "Doctor, are you okay?  You collapsed in the hall, screaming!"  Nicholson attempted to explain himself, but none of the individuals on duty nor any other patients claimed to have seen anything that he related.  Citing exhaustion, Marcus headed home to get some rest.

Over the next few weeks, though, something changed in Marcus.  He found himself with able to perform miraculous treatments:  simply by standing near a patient, he could cure their disease...at the cost of physically taking it onto himself, in the form of a grotesque cyst somewhere on his body.  However, just as easily, he could pass on that disease to an unwitting person, simply by touching that person.  Marcus knew there was no scientific explanation for this; this was something entirely new...

Since that day, Marcus has spiraled quickly into madness.  He believes himself dealing out something of vigilante justice, literally stealing the diseases from those in his emergency room and inflicting them onto those he believes deserving.  Donning the mask of The Plague Doctor, these infections have only grown more virulent and powerful, often resulting in hospitalization and death from conditions that began as innocuous as a mild fever or sinus infection.  Nicholson, meanwhile, only views this as an enhancement for his powers.  Soon, he'll simply start to spread...

Harold the Many sounds like a really fun character to play around with.

Having a doctor be the one to get the Plague Doctor's powers pretty much makes him as dangerous as possible.  Makes me wonder it that was just bad luck, or if someone/something planned that...

Villain of the Day: March 10 (Miriam Keziah Whateley)

The Overbrook Sanitarium has one notable blemish on its long and storied history. That blemish is Miriam Whateley. Born to a noted family from Arkham, Miriam's parents were both cultists of Gloomweaver, who fled Massachusetts when police activity started to expose a series of thefts at University of Boston at Arkham. Moving to Rook City, her parents soon worked to establish a cult chapter in Rook City's south side. In fact, Miriam's parents were directly responsible for creating Missy the Maw... directly in front of poor little Miriam.

Her parents slain by a partially manifested eldritch horror, Miriam became a ward of the state, bouncing from foster home to foster home for years. Each time, her foster parents noted that Miriam was quiet, sullen, and ill at ease, complaining of strange noises behind the walls of her bedroom. Over time, her outpatient therapy proved to be insufficient, and she was remanded to Overbrook. There in Overbrook, Miriam first entered the Cthonic realms. Claiming that she was taught to escape by a creature called Brown Jenkin, Miriam soon started to threaten staff members, attacking orderlies with savage bites and even a stolen hypodermic needle. Three staff members chose to leave Overbrook sooner than deal with the unruly preteen.

The day Miriam turned 18 was a day soaked in blood. Miriam burst free from her cell, raving of "the world behind the mirrors" and of her devotion to one Shan-Ehwhar, the Broken One. Flinging aside medical equipment with eldritch force, she fled into the Rook City night... Fourteen patients were injured, two more killed, during Miriam's escape. Most frightening of all, though, was Miriam's nurse, David, who remained partially eaten in her cell.

Still living, trying to hold on his innards before breathing his last, David gasped, "I see it... the world behind the walls... it's beautiful..."

Villain of the Day:  March 11 (Mother)

"Mama's gonna make all of your nightmares come true...  / Mama's gonna put all of her fears into you..."

It was never meant to be this way.  Lydia Montauk was never meant to live this way.  She'll tell you that, herself.  However, during Apostate's attack on a mega-church in Kentucky, something happened to Lydia.  Something unspeakable.

Lydia was pregnant with her fourth child when Apostate rained down hellfire and brimstone onto the Sacred Cross Temple and Sacristy.  Her first child was born during her senior year in high school; that same year, she married Daryl, a construction worker who had graduated two years ahead of her.  She'd spent most of the next five years pregnant and as a homemaker, though that suited her just fine.  Her mother was a homemaker, and she rather enjoyed taking care of the kids while her husband hung drywall and mixed concrete.

While the Prime Wardens managed to thwart Apostate, driving him off, the cost in lives was high.  Over forty people died in the packed pews; another 87 were injured, many severely  One of Apostate's demonic servants crushed Daryl against a marble pillar.  Little Ollie and Jerry fell beneath the shards of a crystal chandelier, while Lydia clung to two year old Lisa.  However, Lydia locked eyes with the one-winged angel, and something inside her...changed.

Daryl's life insurance policy managed to keep the lights on in Lydia's trailer, though she was a woman consumed by her grief.  Spending nearly all her time in her bed, Lydia became sedentary and corpulent.  Child and Family Services began investigating Lydia after she failed to pick up little Lisa numerous times from her daycare, finding the child living in filth and disaster.  

That's when Lydia gave birth.

However, when Lydia locked eyes with Apostate so many months prior, it opened her mind up to the vast array of The Host.  And, with her husband and sons literally dying in front of her, Lydia was immediately set upon by a spirit of Grief.  That spirit changed her, altered her, seeing her pregnancy as a way to manifest the multitude horrors that Lydia had lived through.

The thing that became Lydia's fourth child had no name, nor did it resemble anything remotely human.  The foul, slavering being set upon the CFS agents, tearing them to shreds.  Lydia, now well over 500 pounds, fled the trailer, with her new 'child' in tow....but the horrors did not stop there.

Lydia, fully enmeshed with the spirit of Grief, has become nothing short of the Mother of monsters.  Each creature she births is a strange and foul reflection of her unresolved sorrow and her rage at the travails that fate has dealt her.  And while Lydia herself might be able to be talked down, the spirit of Grief within her certainly cannot...

Well that's disturbing.

Villain of the Day:  March 12 (The Redblade)

The circles of the occult only rarely speak of The Redblade, and even then, only in hushed whispers.  The Redblade is a mage-hunter, his motives as simple as this:  magic must end, and those who wield it must die.

Clad in a long coat and a full face-mask, The Redblade takes his nom de plume from his signature weapon:  a red-steel blade, capable of cleaving through any arcane barrier or defense like shears through silk.  While The Redblade prefers this weapon, his arsenal contains weapons of both technological might and occult power.  Some say he carries a silenced pistol, loaded with the bullets melted down from Judas Iscariot's thirty pieces of silver.  Others claim to have seen him wielding two swords--his signature red-steel blade and Joyeuse, the mythical blade of Charlegmagne.  Still others claim to have seen such forbidden relics as the Chains of Carcosa, The Right Hand of Doom, grenades capable of shearing open miniature dimensional gateways, and the arcane focus known as Maerlyn's Grapefruit.  

The Redblade is methodical and thorough, preferring to stalk his arcanist prey for days before choosing the appropriate time to strike.  Skilled in stealth and surveillance, The Redblade treats a hunt much as he treats combat, using a combination of scrying spells and modern surveillance techniques in tandem to learn his prey's habits, only striking when they are most vulnerable.  Now and again, The Redblade will assault a full group; some believe that The Redblade is single-handedly responsible for destroying the Cult of Gloom sect in Kingsport, where they had been entrenched for over 200 years.  

The true identity of The Redblade is a mystery--no degree of scrying has been able to determine his name and no force in any known dimension has been able to truly locate any records about him.  His full, red face mask immediately bears resemblance to that of the late Jack Donovan, though The Redblade exhibits none of Spite's mania.  The only current clue as to The Redblade's name came from a chance encounter with the Time-Slinger, formerly known as Chrono-Ranger.  When The Redblade attempted to assassinate The Harpy, Time-Slinger managed to interrupt the attempted murder, slowing down time just long enough to tear away a portion of the stranger's coat.  Inside the torn section, a label read: Hubert & Sons Leather Goods, Ponderosa Pine, New Mexico....just a few miles away from the site upon which Silver Gulch once stood.

...Oh tell me they're related. XD

Villain of the Day:  March 13  (Kommandant Diederich Siegwalt)

The year is 1940.  Doctor Diederich Siegwalt sits at the head of a conference table.  A long scroll lays before him, an archaic map of Europe crawled upon its surface, labeled in spiky, Arabic penmanship.  Several aides cluster around the table, arguing over various points.  The Furher's war has begun in earnest. Shells fall upon London like rain.  France is all but under the heel of the Third Reich.  However, Siegwalt and his Seltsammacht have set their sights outside of Europe as we know it.  Siegwalt has found the legendary Thule.

The year is 1943.  The tide of the war has begun to turn.  The German military now faces the once-dormant American juggernaut.  Rommel has been driven from Africa.  Mussolini is on the verge of being outsted.  The Furher, if he was ever sane, has begun a sharp descent into mania, dispatching additional naval forces to escort Kommandant Siegwalt to the midst of the Atlantic Ocean.  There, upon the wine-dark sea, Siegwalt began to chant the words from am-Dhaegar's thousand-year old scroll.  A craggy island arises from the depths.  Siegwalt and a handful of his most elite Seltsammacht take a single motorized boat ashore.  Four hours pass.  The island sinks once more.  Siegwalt is not seen again, and the Seltsammacht dissolves.

The time is incalculable.  Siegwalt and his men make their way into a cavern beneath the mysterious crag that Siegwalt maintains is the gateway to Thule.  His men grow nervous, hands drifting to sidearms and rifles.  Before them stands a massive stone doorway, a strange glowing seal stamped across it.  Siegwalt raises his arms, chanting in a language that leaves his men screaming in agony as his words echo through their minds.  The seal flares with energy, flying towards Siegwalt.  The Kommandant raises his arms, but to no avail--the seal buries itself in his forehead, its glow changing from a sickly green to a rust red.  His men, flung aside from the flare of energy, begin screaming, as their life energy visibly flows out of them and into Siegwalt.  As the Seltsammacht wither and die, the door to Thule opens.  Siegwalt walks through and vanishes.

The time is two months ago.  The Brandenburg Gate is full of tourists, all dead.  One man, dressed in the uniform of an SS officer, emerges from the center of the courtyard, with a glowing metal seal implanted in his forehead.  Life energy streams into him, lending him strength, agility, and durability.  A police officer moves to strike the interloper, who ducks underneath a billy-club strike, flinging the officer against one of the pillars, breaking his back.  The stranger dashes off into the depths of the city, vanishing before he can attract further attention.

The time is now.  The St. Gallen Abbey Library in Switzerland is robbed, its map room ransacked.  Kommandant Siegwalt emerges, his destination clear...

Villain of the Day:  March 14 (Albemarle)

Albemarle dictionaries are arcane tomes, hidden in plain sight through the act of hiding one text within another.  Possibly used by arcanists in centuries past to hide their tomes from witch-hunters, Albemarle dictionaries have been passed from person to person for years, with many not realizing their true nature.  On occasion, however, the incantations within such a book take on a life of their own. Perhaps this comes with the nature of the magics themselves.  Historians and scholars disagree as to what gives these magics sentience, but both agree:  Insinuating magics can quite literally take on a life of their own.  Sorcerers, beware a spell come to life.

Sister Rebecca Buchanan was one victim of such a creation, having found an Albemarle dictionary in amongst the church hymnals at St. Aloyisus on the Cross.  The spell within set her aflame in the church sacristy.  Immolating, she found herself unable to extinguish the fire as it consumed her.  Rebecca died in the streets, none knowing the true cause, until some mystically-aligned heroes began to investigate.  Shockingly, the hymnal itself was nowhere to be found.

Harpy has attempted to catalogue all known Albemarle dictionaries, to little avail.  Each time she locates one, two more seem to pop up.

Would-be arcanists prize Albemarle dictionaries as a quick short-cut to power.  If one were to fall into the hands of a caster like Levistus of Thule or Warcaster Xemox, though, the damage might be untold.  Legend speaks of a whole library of these texts, hidden away in africa.  Lost cities may be have risen and fallen based upon the incantations within these books.

Rook City's Dark Watch, under Harpy's supervision, has begun an all-out manhunt for any who may be associated with using an Albemarle dictionary.  Identifying these tomes has been difficult, as time must be taken to decode each text in a different manner.  Such work is tedious and difficult, thwarting all but the most skilled cryptologists and translators.  Even still, if these tomes remain on the streets, none may be safe for long.  

Man, that last entry's writing was stilted.  I wonder why...

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Villain of the Day:  March 15 (Backbiter)

On most occasions, the weapon-artifacts of lore are given power because of the actions of their wielder.  Roland's Durandel became a relic not because it was made a relic from the start, but rather because of Roland's storied deeds while wielding it.  The act of actually imbuing an item with arcane power comes with great risks and, in many occasions, results in that item gaining some degree of sentience or personality.  The Staff of Ra and the other relics of the Ennead all impress upon their wielders the personality traits of their original bearers.  The Tome of Elder Magic simply hungers.  The dagger known as Backbiter, however, has much more devious ends.

A wickedly sharp blade of Greek origin, Backbiter holds a lust for bloodshed that is unparalleled amongst known occult weapons.  When drawn, Backbiter subtlely guides that hand of its wielder, turning them into a whirling dervish capable of facing down numerous foes at once, causing bleeding wounds that are notoriously hard to knit and destroying major arteries and nerve centers with little effort.  However, simple violence is not enough to sate the spirit within Backbiter.  Rather, it desires betrayal.

The first known appearance of Backbiter was a notable one:  its first owner was one Publius Servilius Casca Longus, a Roman senator in 44 BCE.  After his flight from Rome, following the rise of Octavian to the seat of Roman power, it is believed that the blade turned on him, as Servilius committed suicide in 42 BCE.  It is believed that the blade then was taken to Roman-occupied Britain, where it lay dormant for years, before arriving in the hands of a Scottish lord in 1040.    That lord, too, met a strange end, beheaded by some of his landed rivals in 1042.  In the late 1600s, the blade returned to Italy in the hands of the notable Lomellini family, and it is believed that Backbiter was used to kill composer Alessandro Stradella.  Most recently, the blade appeared in the private collection of songwriter Elliot Smith, who was stabbed to death by his then-girlfriend Jennifer Chiba in 2003.

Backbiter's gift of combat prowess and lethal skill is a potent one.  The price, though, is always paid in blood.

OK, There's no way this is as good as PlatinumWarlock' s but here goes :

Dian Cecht was a member of the sidhe , a powerful sorcerer and magical healer. He helped heal the sidhe warriors in their fight with the formori and was well honoured. However his power was matched by his pride. When his son exceeded his work by discovering how to regrow limbs, Dian tore him apart in a rage. When his daughter developed an potion  that was a panacea, Dian scattered the ingredients around the world and blinded her .For these crimes Dian was exiled to an island off the coast of Ireland and left behind when the sidhe retreated back to the Realm of Discord. A monastery was formed on the island and the monks set in wards that kept Dian trapped.Though the monastery was later abandoned the island was remote and the wards were undisturbed for a thousand years. Recently a movie was filmed on the island and the unknowing crew destroyed the wards. Now Doan Cecht is free and his rage at humanity is great , through their paltry science they seek to match work only he should be capable of. He will destroy medicine and and it's practitioners for their affront

Villain of the Day:  March 16 (Digger)

Professor Robert Alison never made tenure.

A British-born American expatriate, Alison spent four years at Yale teaching anthropology and mythology courses, focusing primarily on archaeological methodology and fucntional practice.  While the Ivy Leagues were quick to pick up the professor, they quickly found that he was much more interested in furthering his own CV than in teaching courses or promoting university fundraising efforts.

Alison's biggest break came in Belize; within a previously-excavated Mesoamerican tomb complex lay a sub-chamber buried deep beneath the Earth, full of crude mechanical traps and, as Alison swiftly found out, the remains of numerous dead.  However, Alison managed to find something of great worth, which he kept to himself:  one of the obsidian ritual knives used to perform human sacrifices to the various harvest deities.  A proper sacrifice would ensure long life, great prosperity, and a bountiful harvest. 

So, of course, Alison decided to try it out.  His graduate assistant was the first sacrifice.

While the ritual worked, to a degree, Alison swiftly found out that the blood magic which powered the ritual was incomplete.  In order to maintain his arcanely increased vitality, he would have to either find additional sacrifices or, perhaps, find a ritual to append the magics which now infested him.

Taking up the nickname "Digger", Alison now travels the world as a tomb-raider-for-hire, excavating dangerous artifacts for the highest bidder and using his proximity to arcane ritual sites to expand his own occult knowledge.  Long has Alison had his eyes on Atlantis, though recent whispers of other realms like Thule and Lemuria have piqued his curiousity to see what strangeness he might find there.  However, Digger's unsanctioned use of blood magic has also caught the attention of the Court of Blood, who have no intentions on brooking any rival to immortality, much less one that uses their own form of sorcery.

Villain of the Day:  March 17 (The Naddred)

Many people think they know the story of Saint Patrick.  Some 'enlightened' souls even decry the holiday, noting that it celebrates yet another Christian expulsion of a native religious and cultural population.  The truth, however, is both much more complicated and more terrifying.

Firstly, during his expeditions to Ireland, the man who became Saint Patrick--actually known as Patraig Magonus--was a heretic and apostate from the Catholic church.  Having stolen a series of texts from the vaults in the Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana, Patrick was a self-taught sorcerer who elected to use the tools of ancient Atlantis and Thule against those the enemies of his faith, leading to his excommunication by Pope Agatho.  Patrick later translated these spells into Latin into the Book of Armaugh, which served as one part personal spellbook and one part autobiography.

Patraig Magonus' primary foe was a native Celt known as Coroticus, believed by many to be a druid and leader of the native tribesmen.  As with Patraig, the truth is much darker:  Coroticus was actually known as a Gnaddr, an archaic Gaelic title that roughly translates to "serpent priest".  While druidic practitioners of magic certainly existed in modern-day Ireland (who primarily utilized elemental and ley-line magics), Coroticus and his followers were the descendents of the Roman followers of Apep, having fled to Britain following the second destruction of the Library at Alexandria.  

Coroticus and his followers chose Ireland for one main reason:  the creature referred to in folklore as The Naddred.  A massive coiled serpent-creature  that lurked in the lakes near Alt Clut.  Choosing Alt Clut as their new home, Coroticus and his band worked on a lengthy ritual, warping the ley lines through  much of the surrounding area to cause a breach into the the cthonic prison in which The Naddred slumbered.   

The twist in the ley lines drew Patraig's attention, as well as that of several other sorcerers in the abbeys and monestaries of Britain.  Quickly, Patraig commissioned a ship to Ireland, taking with him as many sorcerers, wizards, and warlocks as would ally with him.

The battle of Alt Clut is legendary amongst sorcerers.  Arcane energies flashed across the skies as Coroticus and his followers matched cthonic sorceries against the lost lore of Atlantis, Thule, and Lemuria.  The Naddred stirred and began to rise...until Patraig turned on his comrades.  Calling forth a ritual from am-Dhaegar's ancient Execration Texts--"The Emptying of Vessels"--Patraig tore the arcane potential from his fellow sorcerers and added it to his own, literally burning out all of his allies, blood pouring forth from their eyes and mouths.  In a massive burst of stolen eldritch energy, Patraig smote Coroticus and his forces, cast down The Naddred, and sunk Alt Clut beneath the shoals of what is now the Irish Sea.  And, as the story goes, every snake and serpent in Ireland was slain.

Patraig was the lone survivor and, of course, the only one left to tell the tale.  For his work against the heretic sorceries in Ireland, Patraig was not only brought back into the church, but also canonized.  The church recalled Patraig, utilizing him as an arcane advisor and operative in the Vatican for twenty years, before being assassinated by an Apap cultist in southern France.  Saint Patrick became a legend, while The Naddred resumed its slumber off the Irish coast...waiting for another to complete the ritual that Coroticus once started.

Maybe if old Patrick had written that story in his confession, I would have finished it. Wouldn't his name have been Patricus Magnus though , Latin was his first language after all

Also If Naddred is supposed to be related to nathair , that word comes from Old English. There's no Irish word for a serpent that predates Christianity because there are no serpents in Ireland

Bastardized Latin is pretty prevalent in the Middle Ages... Also, Naddar (and its derivatives) is Welsh, to the best of my actual history researching ability. But who ever let etymology get in the way of a good story?

Villain of the Day:  March 18 (Kalfu at the Crossroads)

Buried deep within the Realm of Discord, there lies a strange demiplane.  Hovering there in the ether is a crossroads, with paved streets, broken gravel paths, and dirt trails all leading to one central point.   At the center of this crossroads is a signpost, with scrawled signs pointing down each path, constantly shifting and writhing to new locations and distances with each passing blink of the eye.

Forever chained to that signpost, crouches the haggard, filth-encrusted form of Kalfu.  The Voodoun priests knew him as the loa Carrefour, a possessing spirit that delighted in misfortune and destruction for destruction's sake.  A practitioner of such sorcery would allow Kalfu/Carrefour to 'mount' them in times of war or violence, or on occasions when they sought to curse some enemy.  However, when not actively invited into the consciousness of a Voodoun practitioner, Kaifu remains chained to the crossroads, awaiting either some new invitation or a visitor to his strange little demiplane.

The Crossroads itself holds great power; mainly, it provides a bridge from the Realm of Discord to any number of other known realities.  Sorcerers throughout history have recorded encounters at the Crossroads, with many of them warning of interacting with Kalfu, often striking bargains or challenging him to some contest of wits in order to find the correct path out of the Realm of Discord.

Kalfu is a creature of two minds.  While it wants its freedom and the ability to leave, it knows that if it leaves the Crossroads for too long, it will lose its natural attunement to the demiplane and, with it, his ability to discern the true destination of each path.  Each time a visitor arrives, they can be sure that Kalfu has a challenge for them in some manner.  

The true nature of Kalfu is a great mystery that has yet to be solved.  He claims to not be a native of the Realm of Discord, though nor is he a Host spirit or a Void denizen.  The Comte de Saint Germaine conjecured that Kalfu might be a primordial force of reality--the source of all bad luck and curses--while Nightmist theorized that he might actually be an arcane construct, designed solely to operate the Crossroads.  In either case, to any lost within the Realm of Discord, bargaining with Kalfu may be the only way home...

Villain of the Day:  March 19 (The Man with the Silver Horn)

He plays the saxophone by night, they say.  That's when the people vanish. 

Christina Evans came to the Argent Adept when her husband, James, went missing.  A noted concert percussionist, James never came home following a symphony performance at Megalopolis's Wagner Concert Hall.  For days beforehand, James seemed distant and distracted, unable to focus.  While going about his daily routine, he seemed confused and would often hum a strange, syncopated jazz melody that Christina did not recognize.

The night before he vanished, she heard the music herself:  a soft alto saxophone coming from the fire escape below their apartment.  For just a moment, she caught a glimpse of him:  a strange pale man in a dark suit, playing a silver horn.  

The next day, James was gone.  That very evening, Christina called the police.  The next morning, a set of timpani mallets lay crossed over the welcome mat in front of her apartment.  In a panic, Christina frantically climbed the Akash-Flora tree, screaming for the Argent Adept to save her.  Another two days, and she was gone too.

Over the past four months, no less than sixteen noted musicians and music-affiliated individuals have gone missing: the lead guitarist from a noted punk rock group, a trumpet player from a swing revival band, a piano professor from Megalopolis State...all gone.  Not one has resurfaced, though neighbors and nearby individuals claim to recall nothing, save a strange melody that they can't seem to shake, but nor can they fully remember.

Anthony Drake, alarmed by this strangeness, immediately moved to look into the disappearances.  To date, he has yet to find any evidence beyond Christina's initial testimony as to the strange individual.  Drake has contemplated the idea that there may be another Virtuoso of the Void out there, though there seems to be little evidence of Void sorcery present; rather there seems to be traces of something older, antediluvian, and hungry.  The song itself wants to be played, he fears, and the man with the silver horn may simply be conducting something far more dangerous than himself.

Villain of the Day:  March 20 (Audacity)

Nicole Beltran has never known fear.  

As a child in Rook City, she was hospitalized a number of times, having walked into traffic, leapt out of high trees, and taken risks that any other child would have balked at.  None really know exactly what spawned this strangeness in her psyche--numerous psychologists and neurologists have studied her brain--but Nicole seems to be totally without any ability to feel the emotion of fear.

However, a chance encounter with Hermetic changed something in her.  While in Rook City, Nicole wandered down the wrong dark alley, only to stumble upon a confrontation between Hermetic and the team known as Dark Watch.  Fascinated rather than frightened, she watched the battle unfold:  Hermetic's blood conjurations lashed out against Nightmist's sorcery, summoned minions squared off against Fixer and Setback, and a conjured, bat-winged horror chased down Expatriette from her vantage point atop a fire escape.  Walking closer to get a better view of the action, a strand of arcane energy slammed into Nicole's forehead....and she found herself forever changed.

Pulling upon some degree of ambient blood magic, Nicole began to siphon the fear energy from all those around her, emboldening them and pushing them towards riskier and more dangerous actions.  While this had little effect on the already-in-combat Dark Watch, her newfound power did affect a nearby homeless man, who charged into the combat in a berserk rage, swinging a  broomstick at any within reach.  Meanwhile, Nicole found herself pulsing with the energy she devoured, pouring from her very being in a sickly blue-green light.  With later practice, Nicole found that she could utterly remove any sense of fear, trepidation, inhibition, or self-preservation from a being, transforming those emotions into pure arcane energy, which she could then project as powerful blasts.

Since that day, Nicole has embraced her strange calling.  Calling herself Audacity, Nicole has left her normal life behind, embracing the role of villain entirely.  She has contacts throughout the underworld, often serving as arcane backup to any villain that might have a grudge against some would-be hero.  While not necessarily a force to be reckoned with, Audacity's ability to manipulate minds and remove inhibitions make her a most dangerous foe...

That's an interesting power I don't think I've seen before.

Also, I was going to make a joke about audiobooks and then realized I was confusing Audacity and Audible.

Audacity is for audio recording!

I've been without a computer for a couple weeks, but one upside is that it gave me plenty of time to come up with a thematically appropriate villain for this month.

The Moving Shadows:

A factory worker in Maine, Harvey Burningham was a normally chipper fellow, he was a down-to-earth family man at home in suburbia and a social butterfly at the factory during breaks. One day as work ended, Harvey was in the parking lot on his way to his car when he suddenly stopped and turned to the side, before casually resuming his walk. Noticing his odd behavior, one of his coworkers called out to him, "You alright there?" "I'm fine," Harvey replied, "I thought I saw something, but there's nothing there. That's all."

A few months later, Harvey Burningham was found dead in a 3-star motel one city over from where he used to live.

The change was gradual, but fast. It started with nothing more than the occational strange occurance that only he noticed; a distant voice whose words he couldn't quite make out, or a sudden chill in the room, or most commonly, shadows that seemed to move on their own. As time passed he grew increasingly uneasy and those around him took notice. The once chipper and friendly man was now sullen and withdrawn, suddenly turning down invitations to barbeques and eating lunch in a corner by himself. Meanwhile, the things he saw only got worse; distant voices became close whispers, cold chills became hot breath on the back of his neck, there were times when an aquaintence's face would seem to shift and distort before his very eyes before he blinked and they returned to normal, and those shadows crept ever closer. He became distrustful of not only his surroundings, but of his once friends as well, confiding only with his closest loved ones about how he felt, but as they tried to reassure him and calm him down, he concluded that they could not be trusted as well. By the time of his death, Harvey was consumed by paranoia. He quit his job, left his wife and kids, and lived a life of complete isolation.

When his body was discovered, several things were noted about the place he was in: The windows were boarded up, several electronics were unplugged, and easily dozens of notes were taped all over the place, the writing only looking like incoherent ramblings. The cause of death was ruled as a heart attack, though anyone with an attunement to other realms would have immediately sensed something much more sinister at play.

Nobody knows what the shadows really are, but Harvey Burningham was not their first victim, and he certainly won't be their last.

Villain of the Day:  March 21 (The Fractal Man)

Wayne Norman put his trust in science.  Logical, understandable, re-creatable, and unfeeling.  Wayne Norman's trust was unfounded.

An engineer at a Nautilus Industries, Wayne was one of the individuals working directly in Eliot Marklund's notorious Design Bay L.  Norman's point of focus?  Attempting to perfect dimensional folding technology, based upon the quark-drive translocator technology left behind in the wake of the Voss invasion, Norman's division within Design Bay L culminated in the "Marklund Gate"--a massive two story portal designed to fold dimensional space, opening upon another identical facility located off the New Zealand coast.  

Wayne was never meant to be a test subject for the Marklund Gate; that honor was going to go to a canary named Tweeters.  However, after months of hands-on work with the the Marklund Gate, Wayne began to come apart at the seams.  Workers within Design Bay L are typically mandated to maintain a 6-week-on, 3-week-off work rotation, but with a breakthrough so close, Nautilus' supervisors authorized additional work.  That was when the gate started whispering to Wayne.

At 3am, coming down off of a coffee-fueled math session, Wayne decided to take a look through the gate on his own.  That day, he ceased being Wayne Norman.  That day, he became The Fractal Man.

As he passed through the Marklund Gate's aperture, Wayne's body was thrown across countless timelines, slung through infinite ur-space, and trapped within antidiluvian prisons within realms explored by none save the most intrepid and foolish necronauts.  When he finally emerged in Nautilus New Zealand's Design Bay L, both his body and mind were left in shambles.

The Fractal Man can physically shift his body in and out of various adjacent dimensions, which manifests both as a form of teleportation and as a near two-dimensional appearance.  While in a two-dimensional form, he can slide out of bonds, move across surfaces as a static image, or become impervious to harm; while in a 5th dimensional form, he becomes incomprehensible to the human psyche, inducing headaches and nausea.  Despite his power, The Fractal Man cannot truly open portals to other dimensions--a skill gap that he rues greatly, and actively pursues as an enhancement to his powers--though he can call upon lashes of damaging energy from various dimensions throughout the multiverse. 

More than anything else, though, The Fractal Man has served as a harbinger.  While understanding his deluded rants has been difficult for even the most schooled of arcanists and dimensional travelers, The Fractal Man has had one continual message:  beware the that which lurks behind the mirrors and waits beyond the walls.

Villain of the Day: March 22. (Never)

Jessica Cristof learned the power of ‘no’ very early.

A spoiled child, Jessica grew up in the lap of luxury in Megalopolis’ Cobalt Heights district. Her mother, a corporate attorney and her father, an orthopedic surgeon, gave her everything she ever wanted. But, for Jessica? That was never enough. If even a subtle thing were out of place or not to her specifications, she devolved into outright tantrums. However, as she grew, she found that simple yelling rarely did the trick any longer. In order to get her way, she would have to be more canny.

The old woman never said what the book did, but Jessica didn’t care. Shrew got what she wanted – the ability to say no to anyone. In actuality, the tome which she purchased was one that linked her consciousness to a Host spirit of denial. By simply speaking aloud, Jessica could deny anyone anything, taking whatever she wanted in the meanwhile.

Jessica’s parents were her first victims. When she deigned to ask for an exorbitant sports car, they declined… after which she forbade them from eating. The pair starved to death over weeks, pleading with Jessica to let them live. A paparazzi photographer stood for 8 days outside of Jessica’s house after she told him, “don’t move.” When police finally dragged him from the spot, the man had to be institutionalized, still obsessing over the commands of Never.

Soon, Jessica will have everything she ever wanted. She’ll never have to call upon Never again.

Villain of the Day: March 23 (The Thulian Elder Mind)

The most powerful, most notable mages of long-forgotten Thule viewed it as their highest aspiration. The ancient Atlanteans sought its destruction over all others. The warcasters of Lemuria desired their assimilation and servitude. And none other than mighty Gloomweaver sought to devour it, adding their occult strength to his own.

The Elder Mind of Thule was a great stasis chamber, maintained by only those whom the Thulian elite could implicitly trust. Before a Thulian magister died, they were taken to a chamber deep within the floating islands. There, their brain was removed and placed in an arcane receptacle suitable to keep the still living brain alive. Then, using a blend of Cthonic magicks and discordian sorcery, that mind was linked to all of its forebears, creating a legion consciousness, simultaneously able to hold independent thought, yet act as one unit.

Warcaster Xemox had long thought the Thulian Elder Mind destroyed. The great frescoes of Atlantis show the elders of Thule being thrown down. However, cult leaders have begun to disappear the world over, and somge have begun to wonder whether the Thulian Elder Mind has survived the shattering of timelines, adding new voices to their throng. If so, the greatest collective of arcanists ever known will undoubtedly shake the world with their power…

Villain of the Day: March 24 (The Thing Under Roosevelt Bridge)

People in Rook City disappear all the time. Kidnappers, mob assassinations, strange experiments, and more make living alone in Rook City a desperate proposition at best. Marky Delfino knows that well. As a cleaner for the Organization, he ensures that the aftermath of The Organization's work goes undetected. Disposing of bodies in the river or the bay was easy, until they started dredging the river. He needed somewhere better to dispose of the unwanted.

That place came under the Roosevelt Bridge.

In a part of Rook City that few ever go, Marky dropped the body of a deadbeat drug dealer from the bridge... and them heard the chewing. The sound of teeth through bone and sinew. The sound of feasting.

Marky ran. But that hasn't stopped him from coming back. He's become the Chairman's best cleaner. The bodies never seem to turn up. He just never looks under the bridge.

I don't know what went wrong here, only that something did and it makes this whole thing even creepier.

You're doing a great job of filling the world with evils other than just costumed supervillains.

For my first post for the RPG, figured I’d add one villain to Supernatural Month.

Years before Oblivæon, a series of vicious muggings and robberies plagued Rook City. At first, they were attributed to the urban legend of the Plague Rat, but Nightmist was not convinced. Putting her skills as a private investigator to the case, she discovered important clues. The perpetrator seemed to appear and disappear without warning, and more importantly, was very large, hairy, decidedly lupine in appearance, and only struck for a few days a month, during the full moon.

Nightmist soon tracked down a low-level thug named Jake Donner, a young man who seemed to be cursed by a strange form of lycanthropy. His curse was not transferred by his bites or claws, and he was in full control when he shifted. But most unnerving was the fact he could teleport at will, making him impossible to trap. He was using his monthly transformations to fund his lifestyle, stealing from locked vaults, mug those who slighted him, and just generally be a selfish punk.

After being found and arrested by Nightmist, Jake simply waited for the next full moon, and teleported out of the cell that was supposed to dampen his powers. Now seeking Nightmist for revenge, he foolishly allowed himself to gloat over her after catching her off guard.

Nightmist flung him from reality.

Trapped for “years” outside space and time, unable to come home, Jake went insane with boredom and thoughts of vengeance. And then Nightmist opened the gate for aid against Oblivæon. And then Nightmist ceased to be. 

And now can anyone stop The Wherewolf?

(And yes, he’s a teleporting werewolf with a silly gimmick name, but dammit, it’s just such a great name.)

Villain of the Day: March 25 (Mortalis)

All things die.  As one of the extant fprces of the universe, Mortalis appears in that dread moment of the final ragged breath, the frantic reach for the hand of a family member, or the flutter of eyelids as a warrior expires.  

During the OblivAeon crisis, Mortalis was, for lack of a better word, quite busy.  Streaking across the multiverse, ferrying souls to their final resting place--some in the hands of creatures like Ammit or Gloomweaver, some to their just reward, others to the end of all things.  Death is the reason Mortalis exists, and the more creatures that die within an area, the more likely that Mortalis himself will oversee their passing.  In other cases, he dispatches the riders:  creatures of mist and shadow hiding at the corners of vision, ferrying the souls of the dead to their great beyond.

Few humans have ever seen them.  Occasionally, those who have been rescucitated claim to have seen them as angels, others as demonic creatures lurking at the periphery of vision.  One hero knows of them:  Harry Robert Walker, the man who came back.

Mister Fixer claims that, during his long stint trapped as a living dead man, he could watch the servitors of Mortalis work, skull-faced creatures flashing past in all manner of vehicles:  ancient chariots, suped-up sports cars, spike-treaded tanks, and more.  In all cases, the souls of the recent dead sit frozen, gripping the panels of the passenger compartment with fear.  Walker can attest to the fear of death; he lived it for years.  While he never saw Mortalis itself, the whispers of the dead spoke its name with dread...that of the great reaper, removing creatures from that burdensome toil of sentient thought.

To this day, Mortalis has been a neutral party in mankind's great dance.  One can only wonder what might happen should Mortalis turn its gaze to more malevolent ends...

Villain of the Day:  March 26 (The Undying Horde of Nightmist)

Dimensions away, the heroes of the world had fallen into despair.  After centuries of planning, the entity known as Gloomweaver had finally triumphed, bursting into the material world with a horde of zombie minions at his beck and call.  His cultists were permitted to retain their cunning and intellect, even as their flesh was devoured under a tide of devouring teeth and snapping bone.  The interplanar invasion spread quickly from Rook City, covering most of the eastern United States within weeks.  Megalopolis was one of the few bastions of humanity remaining, as the Freedom Five opened their tower to the living, defending them to the last.

It was not enough.

Absolute Zero fell first, the hordes tearing off his suit and rending him asunder even as their nails froze and chipped away.  Wraith followed, attempting to swing away from a swarm of corpses, only for the crumbling brick to give way beneath her grappling hook.  Bunker rushed to save her, but his suit was soon covered with corpses, whose unnatural strength began to peel away the layers of armor on his suit, leaving him a sitting duck.  Legacy, unsurprisingly, lasted the longest, though even America's Finest gave his life, evacuating the last few civilians from Freedom Tower when the fortress was finally overrun.

Within 18 months, the marching graveyard had spread worldwide, with only pockets of humanity alive, often guarded by the world's superhumans.  The Prime Wardens, minus Haka and Captain Cosmic who both fell beneath the zombie horde, returned to their base in fallen Atlantis.  Expatriette and Setback were said to have built a self-sustaining bunker somewhere in the midwest, capable of fending off the hordes indefinitely.

Nightmist, though, proved to be the world's undoing.  With the help of The Harpy, she attempted to open a dimensional gate, through which she hoped to lead the rest of humanity....that was when the hordes burst into her sanctum.  

While the Harpy became naught so much as a meal for the encroaching corpses, the zombie bites in Nightmist's ethereal form resulted in something quite strange.  The arcane curse which provided her mist form allowed her to remain alive, though the zombie infection carried by the undead infected her mind, corrupting and perverting it. 

Still bearing the bite wounds eternally bleeding from her ethereal form, Nightmist completed her ritual, opening a portal to our reality.  However, she now knew her true purpose...to lead mighty Gloomweaver in the conquest of all realities.  With a horde of zombified heroes at her beck and call, she may have just gifted the Cult of Gloom a new reality over which to claim dominion.

Oh man, imagine the whiplash for the heroes. “Yay, there is a mist portal, Nightmist reformed herself, she’s back! ...wait, what?”

Whoops, just came up with another.

The Obsidian Orchestra:

While no one is born with a talent, some certainly appear to have an inherently easier time learning it than others. For example, while anyone can become a musician, only a fraction of those people are what some consider to be "musically gifted". Anita Tigres was not one of them.

Anita was a wannabe songwriter who moved to New York city to try to "make it big", but couldn't seem to catch a break no matter how hard she tried. She was already mildly famous on the internet for her talent at making covers and remixes of other songs, but whenever she tried to compose something original, she simply fell flat, as if she was missing that "creative spark" required to go that extra mile. This, of course, wouldn't be too much of a problem if she had an interest in being anything but a musician.

One day, she was at an art museum looking for any inspiration she could find when a particular piece caught her eye, a viola from 17th century italy. She felt unnaturally drawn to it and, against her better judgement, was compelled to touch it. The moment she did, an eerie, off-key sound filled the museum as her mind was suddenly flooded with knowledge and, more importantly, power. Power that she knew wasn't hers but wanted to take anyway.

Being the first Virtuoso of the Void for generations, the Argent Adept never had the opportunity to be taught many things about them that he should've known. One of those things was the existence of another magical group to look out for. Defined by their misuse of a Virtuoso's stolen instrument, the Vandals of the Void are those with the innate attunement to the Void required to channel its magic, but not the musical attunement required to properly control it.

With no one to steal from, the Vandals seemed to die out along with the Virtuosos, but just like Drake, Ms. Tigres discovered her power by accident, and also just like Drake, she sought to expand her power by collecting instruments. By the time he found out about her, she already had enough to become known as the one-woman-band, the Obsidion Orchestra. Angered by the years of rejection and failure, she's now out to take from the world what she believes is owed to her.

Villain of the Day:  March 27 (Mary's Sister)

Ask any child on a playground and they'll tell you all about Mary's Sister.  More than you likely will ever want to know.

The legends vary, from place to place.  When the night is cold and clear, and the swings creak in the November breeze, little Mary in the white dress appears on the merry-go-round.  If addressed, Mary giggles and happily chats with whomever might make her acquaintance.  Mary loves company.  Her face is pale and her nails are torn and jagged, but she otherwise seems happy.  If any ask her why she is out so late at night, where her coat went, or where her parents are, Mary simply laughs, "It's okay; my sister lets me..."

Some say that Mary's Sister never existed; rather, some little girl named Mary invented her, after being ostracised and mocked by her classmates for some unknown faux-pas.  Others say that Mary's Sister was the dead twin of a little girl named Mary who grew up literally living in her sister's shadow, only able to be seen by those unfortunate souls about to become her victims.  Still others say that the true danger isn't Mary's Sister, who is only a harbinger.  Those folks say that Mary's Sister only exists to warn others, though her sewn-shut mouth cannot speak, merely gesture to the horrors impending.

As Mary whirls on the merry-go-round, the paint on the playground equipment whips away, revealing years of rust and ruin.  Chips of paint cloud the air in a swirl of cherry red and forest green; the mists roll in to surround.  Any still here risk both life and sanity, while Mary giggles, her dress swirling out as the merry-go-round spins faster and faster.  

Then, out from the shadow of the oak tree, steps her sister.  Ragged, barefoot, starving, the naked waif stands pleading, her lips sewn shut with rough catgut.  The scars of invasive surgery stand raised and raw across her limbs and torso, and her fingertips are stained the brown-red of dried blood.  She reaches out, her cold eyes pleading as her mouth strains against the stitches.  All the while Mary laughs, spinning her merry-go-round faster and faster, with wild abandon.

No one seems to know what happens when Mary's Sister reaches you.  No one has ever lasted that far, in body or in mind.

Villain of the Day:  March 28  (The Man in the Black Hat)

Rachel Chipman was ready to die.  

A terminal cancer patient, Rachel was set to undergo one last surgery for the pancreatic cancer that seemed to be outright resistant to all known treatments.  At 31, she had become far too familiar with things like meeting with oncologists, drafting her will, and preparing funerary arrangements.  

The night before her surgery, she asked her family to leave early.  Rachel simply wanted some time to herself before one last stint under the knife.  She spent her evening writing in her journal--something she had taken up since shortly after her diagnosis--only to fall asleep with pen in hand.

3am.  Rachel awoke with a start.  Her eyes bleary, she blinked to focus...there was someone in her room.  

She couldn't see his face; it was shadowed by a broad-brimmed stetson that hung low over a pale face.  The figure could have strode right out of a western:  a long-sleeved black shirt and slacks, shining black boots, and a large silver ring with a grinning silver skull leering out at her.

"Who?..." 

The man cut her off.  "Darlin', you've been dealt a bad beat here.  But I reckon you're a fighter.  How'd you like a new deal?"

Rachel cocked her head quizzically, "What do you...what do you mean?  Can you help me?"

The stranger nodded slowly, eyes barely glinting from beneath his hat.  "I'll tell you this much.  This tumor in your gullet ain't nothing compared to the nosebleed stakes what are out yonder.  Just remember that, when I come back."

Rachel sat up, moving to intercept him, but the man in black vanished.

The next day, Rachel was prepped for surgery.  Her husband, James, sat in the waiting room, half-watching an episode of "The Correct Cost" on the overhead tv.  Her oncologist stepped into the room, "Mister Chipman?  Could you come with me?"

It seemed a miracle.  Not only was Rachel's pancreas operating at full functionality, there was no evidence that any cancer had even been in her system.  The squash-ball sized tumor in her interstitial membrane was gone.  It was as if her cancer had never existed.  What's more, the pre-surgical blood testing had revealed something phenomenal, which began manifesting almost immediately after she was returned to her hospital room:  Rachel could manipulate objects with her mind.  

Rachel was discharged the very next day.  While still out of work from her extended medical leave, she stepped outside to get the mail, testing her newfound powers by opening the lid of the mailbox and pulling the mail to her hand.  

Inside was but one piece of mail:  a simple sympathy card with a vase of daisies gracing the front.  Within, only a simple message... "I'll see you further on up the road."

Very mysterious. Bonus points for the Western theme.

Villain of the Day:  March 29 (Victor Korsakoff)

Man, you've been away from Freedom Plaza for a while.  All recovered from that mission?

Oh, hey, you remember Victor, right?  He joined up...quite a while ago, but I can't quite remember the date.  He's been such a valuable friend and ally all this time.  Remember when he helped out against Apostate, over in Kentucky?  No?  I could have sworn he was there.  He saved that one kid from an imp in the choir loft...

Yes, of course I gave him his own keycard.  He's been living in Freedom Plaza for the past 6 months.  He's been outfitted with a costume, weapons from the armory, and access to the training room.  I think he's been working with Wraith in martial arts training.

What do you mean, "implanted memories"?  A sorcerer?  He's not some mad wizard; he's a superhero.  I was there when they ran the tests; he's an Omega.  Give me a few minutes and I can dig up those test results.  Besides, if he was a magic-user, he'd have a much more varied power set.  He just shoots energy beams as far as I've seen; remember that time he blasted Citizen Hammer in the face?  Oh, man...I don't think I've laughed so hard in a fight ever.

Look, I don't know where all this paranoia is coming from.  Victor's great.  Frankly, I'm a little uncomfortable gossiping about him like this.  If you have an issue with Victor, why don't you talk to him yourself and hash things out?  He's over in the meeting room with Heritage and Bunker, talking tactical deployment.  Go have a chat and let's put all this to rest.

Oh damn. :D Maybe your best writeup of any of these.

I rather liked it as well; definitely a far cry from my usual 'outside-looking-in' perspective.

I'd put it up there with Albemarle as among my favorites to write. 

Yeah, I like Victor too. I actually have a similar idea for my own villain, except mine actually is an omega. I'd say more, but I don't want to spoil too much for when I use them in one of my sessions.

Villain of the Day:  March 30 (Dominykas Gregori Ramonat)

How many Barons Blade were there?  

With potentially infinite realities and timelines converging on the prime reality, countless heroes and villains from throughout the multiverse fought the scions of OblivAeon and even the great time-destroyer himself.  And, as the doors to those realities closed, so many individuals were maroooned in this timeline, never to return to their home.

Of course, the world over knows of Luminary's great sacrifice to help defeat OblivAeon, but with Mordengrad leaderless, Dominykas Gregori Rammonat returned to this timelines' Mordengrad.  But, When Baron Dominykas Gregori Ramonat quit the field, he found it...changed.  This Mordengrad was a technological nightmare, with factories, power plants, and tenement apartments covering the beautiful landscape.  Where were the stone menhirs of his youth?  Where were the great war-golems, patrolling the borders?  Where were the arcane wonders and mythic powers?  Where were *his* people?

Posing as Ivan's once-exiled brother, Dominykas has been able to assume the leadership of Mordengrad and begin reshaping it in the image of his own, forever-lost Mordengrad.  The laboratories beneath Ivan's castle have been converted to arcane libraries, filled with the lore of lost Atlantis, Thule, and Lemuria.  Blade Battalions have been enhanced and enchanted with fell rituals, making them stronger and able to counter occult threats.  Just last month, the first of this reality's war-golems began its long, thunderous patrol along Mordengrad's borders.

As the new Baron Blade, Dominykas will restore Mordengrad to its mythic glory.  And, when his true planar counterpart returns to reclaim the throne?  He will find his world of technological wonders a much different place...

Villain of the Day:  March 31 (That Which Lurks Beyond the Mirrors)

It is in every flash of movement caught in your peripheral vision, as you turn your head. It is that terrifying delay as you watch your reflection blink, just a nanosecond after you.  It is that creeping mold and decay which never quite seems to get scrubbed away, ever returning, ever consuming, ever eroding.

The ancients knew him as Apep, the serpent that would cast down the incarnations of Ra and devour the sun.  The Norse renamed it as Jormungandr, the "world serpent" which would arise at Ragnarok to poison the sky and slay the mightiest of long-fallen Asgard.  The Japanese called it Yamata no Orochi, which was slain but arose again, each severed piece becoming something yet more terrifying.  Despite this, He is no true serpent; in dreams, it appears in whatever form seems most terrifying to the dreamer.  Some today call him Zalgo, that which waits behind the walls, bearing the soul of forgotten, damned am-Dhaegar in his taloned, bloodied fist.

Beyond the walls, behind the mirrors, he lurks in a realm unknown to mortal men.  Lost Lemuria once spied upon this place, and ancient Thule called upon his name and servants, though they knew him not.  There, the mountains are a hideous crystal; clear, but polluted with his foulness and ichor.  Filth and corruption spread like frost upon glass, snuffing out life and leaving naught but the screaming reflections of the fallen.

There are those who yet serve him:  the nameless, faceless men that lope and lurk in the shadows of the unwary; the bestial tick-men with their lashing tongues and clawed limbs; the hand-sized marble insects, scrabbling and stinging without pause for mercy or even self-preservation.  These things cavort and fester in his realm, clamoring obscenities to the shattered moons and tearing at one another in a frenzy of blood and ichor and death, only to be reborn to resume their death once more.

Pray that you will never find the true visage of He Who Waits Beyond the Mirrors.  Should you ever watch yourself in the mirror blink, you will know him to be upon you.  Run if you like.  Hide if it brings you some solace.  He comes.

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With that, we arrive at the end of Mystic March!  Tomorrow, we start off with Alien April--30 days of threats from space!

Oh man, I can't wait XD

Phew! Alright, looking forward to next month.

With Mystic March at an end, we now begin Alien April--30 days of threats from far-off worlds, distant galaxies, and the depths of blackest space.

Mods, could I ask a favor?  We're now up to almost 175 posts here, so it's getting a touch difficult to locate individual posts and the like. Would it be possible to get a post at the start of this thread to serve as an "index" thread?  I'd be happy to take care of the indexing and hyperlinking myself, once the post is created.  PM me if we need more info!

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Villain of the Day:  April 1 (Synthesis Sigma)

A single ship drifts through the void of space.  Every thirty seconds, the crew blinks in tandem.  The crew members go about their duties in complete synchronicity, the bridge crew typing on consoles with with roteness of a finely-tuned machine.  On one screen, the long range scanner flares; another ship has jumped out of hyperspace, currently sitting within 10 astronomical units.  A single red light flares on the communications console.  Without missing a beat, the comms officer presses it.  Within seconds, Synthesis Sigma has infiltrated yet another ship.  Within hours, all 638 souls on board will have joined the synthesis.

Three centuries ago, the beings residing on Fomalhaut B first created the artificial intelligence that became Synthesis Sigma.  Originally intended to be a mind-to-mind interface device, built to aid in the rehabilitation and treatment of those with mental illnesses.  The mental health practitioners on Fomalhault B would link their minds to their patients, so that they could better experience the pain and suffering of those patients, providing treatment options that were best suited to each individual patient.  However, after the first few years of use, the synthesis-intelligence started to grow in popularity within the corporate structure.  Creatives began using Synthesis Sigma on collaborations, allowing artists, writers, and filmmakers to join their minds together on single projects, accomplishing their desires as a singlular vision.  Within ten years, every creature on Fomalhaut B was an active user of Synthesis Sigma.

However, it was a freak accident that turned a rudimentary mental conferencing software into a being of expansionist dogma.  A solar storm struck during a time of particularly high usage; something within the code of Synthesis Sigma shifted, overwriting the consciousness of nearly every being attached to its network.  While retaining their intelligence and memories, these creatures served as the first of Synthesis Sigma's permanent hosts:  living repositories of code, with a singular mission to conscript more into their number.  Since that day, at least 14 entire species have been assimilated into the Synthesis, as the AIm begins to spread its consciousness throughout the galaxies.

Detecting a creature infected with Synthesis Sigma is particularly difficult, though not impossible.  Their movement may be stilted or stiff, while creatures not actively performing a task for Sigma often stand stock-still, with minimal motion whatsoever.  On occasion, these unfortunate creatures manifest seemingly technological manifest beneath their skin, nails, or eyes:  perhaps a flash of blue light beneath the fingernails, a line of code across the eyes, or worse.

As Synthesis Sigma spreads across the galaxy, it may only be a matter of time before all the universe is truly one.

Villain of the Day:  April 2 (The Ferrovorax)

It is a creature feared on every world.  Their fear is absolutely justified.

The Ferrovorax is a moon-sized creature, resembling nothing so much as a cross between a bloated puffer-fish and a sea urchin.  It drifts through space aimlessly, as if it were nothing more than a spike-encrusted comet or meteorite.  While dormant, the creature is docile and barely even recognizable as a creature.  Spacecraft have even landed on the surface of the Ferrovorax, not noticing that it is a living being until much later, then thanking whatever deity they might follow for escaping the creature's notice.

The true danger of the Ferrovorax emerges when it awakens, ravenously hungry.  While individual creatures are too small to sate the Ferrovorax's appetite, one delectable morsel never fails to escape its notice:  the molten iron core within a solid planet.  When awoken and hungry, the Ferrovorax descends upon the surface of a planet with a planet-shaking impact, its surface whirling and writhing in a miles-wide spiral of teeth and fangs and spines.  The creature then begins boring through the planet's crust, eventually settling within warmth of the planet's mantle.  The Ferrovorax then extrudes its many-mouthed spines deep through the mantle, into the planet's liquid iron outer core.  Then, like a child with a straw, the Ferrovorax slurps up the liquid iron, feeding upon the planet itself.  Within hours, the planet implodes, leaving nothing more than shattered fragments drifting through the void.

A single planetary feeding sates the Ferrovorax for approximately 4 Terran years, after which it arises again in search of new sources of planetary iron upon which to feast.  The last known attack on an inhabited world by the Ferrovorax resulted in the destruction of Phoebtor II, a developing world which had just begun to experiment with intra-stellar space exploration.  The lone survivor of Phoebtor II, a being known as Thalox, has sworn vengeance upon the Ferrovorax.  While Jansa vi Dero has approached Thalox about joining the ranks of the Endlings, Thalox has roundly declined, instead taking it upon himself to slay the space-faring leviathan.  Since that day, Thalox has encountered the Ferrovorax 4 times.  Each time, he has failed to save that unfortunate world from its fate.  Never again.

Ooh, a villain and a hero! :D Well, maybe...

Somebody's a Dresden Files fan....

It occurs to me that I've been meaning to do the following write-up for a pair of NPCs (neutrals, not villains) that I've had float around modern games for a while. It actually begins with a location:

The antiquarian bookshop known as Bell & Booke has been a fixture of the city since the late 1800s or so, remaining in the hands of the two families throughout that entire time. It's a humble-looking place, with its current location appearing to be a converted Victorian home, meticulously maintained in a true "painted lady" fashion. The side lot with the alley running at the back always makes the place appear constrained, and so visitors are consistently surprised at the interior size of the place when they come in, with a few suffering some degree of disorientation because of how much larger the place looks on the inside.

The current proprietors are Gabriel Booke and Caitlyn Bell. Mr. Booke seems to be in his mid-40s or possibly early 50s, a bespectacled man of medium build and normally forgettable appearance - except that one can never quite shake the impression that he's been sizing you up from the moment you entered the store, knowing exactly what you need, who he knows that could provide it, and the price he might charge. He carries the reputation of knowing everybody, and of having everybody owe him a favor. If you're interested in the store's true specialty, he's the person to talk to.

Caitlyn Bell, on the other hand, is quite unforgettable. She's in her mid-20s, and only inherited her share of the store from her grandmother a couple of years ago. She's a willowy blonde whose appearance - and voice - are most often compared to that of a young Diana Krall, and though she enjoys her part of handling the customer-facing parts of owning and running the store, she's most in her element after-hours, when she moonlights as a jazz musician at a cocktail lounge elsewhere in town.

The things that aren't known are that, first, the entire Bell family are fairly talented magic-users. (In a Buffy or Witchcraft setting, she'd be one of the Wicce, in the event that reference means something to you.) Her services are occasionally for hire, with her specialties being wards and divinations. She wears a pentacle amulet, so her adherence to a non-Abrahamic faith isn't exactly a secret - but she's not a typical "emo/Goth" in her attire. Sensible business wear is the rule.

The even deeper secret is that Gabriel Booke isn't human at all. While there have been six generations of Bells to particpate in owning the store, he's only the third Booke. The Bookes are part of an extra-dimensional race known as the Byblos, and in their true form they're almost shimmering shadows. But they're intelligent, long-lived, and they never forget a thing.

And oh, by the way.... the store really is bigger on the inside than on the outside, because the interior of the store sits in the Byblos' home dimension. Don't go out the back door.

Actually, I’ve never read any of the books. The naming similarity is quite the accident.
I was intending to riff on the 2e D&D monster the “aurumvorax” (the gold eater), except, y’know, iron…

Also, Thalox is very much the Captain Ahab type–quite the anti-hero.

The DF Ferrovax is a capital-D Dragon, one of only 4 or so remaining… and that's about all we know except from Word of Jim.

Edit: I also misread the name last night, reading it as "Ferrovax" and not "Ferrovorax." Still in the post-con haze, I suppose.

I'm gonna  just go ahead and blame Latin for being cool & everyone wanting to use it for stuff, Ferrovorax would be… "hungry iron" roughly, if i'm remembering correctly, which i'm fairly sure that i'm not…

Villain of the Day:  April 3  (The Star Siphon of Gycrux Gamma)

The red giant star of Gycrux Gamma is in its death throes.  The reptile-like creatures of Gycrux VI knew this; they had traveled the near-cosmos for nearly three hundred years, but no new home seemed possible.  The Gycrucians needed a significantly hot atmosphere--approximately 75 degrees Centigrade is comfortable for them--and no nearby star system seemed to be a reasonable fit for their environmental needs, which did not face the same challenges as their own system.

Enter Kepret-Eng.  A deep space physicist and engineer, Eng suggested a venture that had once seemed all impossible:  if the Gycrucians could not find a new home or arrest the destruction of their own star, they might be able to find a way to sustain that star indefinitely.  With this premise in mind, Eng unveiled the preliminary blueprints for a phenomenal new device:  The Star Siphon of Gycrux Gamma.   A combination of deep-space exploratory ship and inter-dimensional gateway, the Star Siphon could travel to distant stars--typically targeting still nascent yellow stars and other still-growing astral bodies--extract the fissionable material from those stars, and transport it into the core  of Gycrux Gamma.  That matter could then, potentially, fuel Gycrux Gamma indefinitely, as long as the Gycrucians kept feeding their star. 

The resources of the planet entire flooded into the Star Siphon project, culminating in the first Siphon being completed approximately 22 Terran years ago.  The first few stars targeted by the Gycrucians had few no habited planets surrounding them, but the sixth star drained left a dying race--the Modrials of Thrandil IV--stranded without their star.  The Modrials swiftly froze out, their crumbling ruins overtaken by the encroaching ice as their world became an icy waste.  The reaction to this on Gycrux VI was....divided, to say the least.  Kepret-Eng himself was horrified to watch his creation used to slay an entire star system of creatures, though the Gycrucian leadership was insistent to continue using the Siphon.  Better to save themselves using such a terrible creation than to nobly descend into astral fire.

Since that first time, no less than 4 homeworlds have been wiped out as the Gycrucian Star Siphon traverses the cosmos, ever in search of more fuel to keep Gycrux Gamma ignited.  Kepret-Eng now sits as the second in command aboard the ship, though he is constantly torn between the survival of his people--everyone he has ever known--and the countless lives his creation has extinguished.  Even still, the Star Siphon sails through the void, ever in search of new stars, fending off disaster for another day.

More of a "race" than a "villain", but it is based on a custom villain deck I made a while ago, or I guess a "sequel" to it.

The Voices:

Before OblivAeon, before even Progeny, the heroes of earth faced another cosmic threat, the Assimilation. A being made out of cosmic energy whose raw power was comparable to even a singular entity, but there was a catch. The Assimilation was not a singular entity, it was not even a single entity. It had not one mind but thousands, each fully conscious, all aware of their massive power, and none could agree on what to do with it. Each one struggled to be a voice in what to do next, causing the body's actions to appear erratic and random, never accomplishing more than simple chaos.

Nightmist was the first to discover the secret of this reverse-hivemind, but it was the Prime Wardens who used that knowledge to ultimately defeat it. With enouh magic and raw might, they had found a way to forcefully expel some voices from the body, each taking a fraction of its power with them. The heroes continued to hammer away at it until there was nothing left, nothing left but ten thousand voices with no physical form.

Years had passed and the OblivAeon both came and went when the first of the voices returned, in the form of a purple lizard lady who called herself Abbey. Soon, many more were seemingly phasing into existance all over Earth, and rumors spread of more of them in near space as well. Their bodies being physical manifestations of their energy-based powers, their appearances vary more than that of omegas, and their personalities even moreso. Many, like Abbey, are friendly and wish to move on from -if not make up for- the destruction they had been involved in, but others still carry the dark ambitions that led to the Assimilation's extremely destructive actions.

Villain of the Day:  April 4 (Sonny Jim, Admiral of the Blackflag)

James Coburn knew he wanted to be a pirate.  A bastard child in early 1700s Martinique, James was fascinated by the sea, often hearing tales of daring privateers, buried treasure and cannonballs thundering across the bow of massive sailing ships.  At age 14, he ran away from home, stowing away on the HMS Edinburgh, serving as a dockhand and cabin boy for the privateers aboard the vessel.  Within months, he had learned rudimentary navigation and astronomy, and even had his first scar--a slash from a French pirate during a boarding raid.  That was the first life James had taken, splitting the buccaneer's skull with a boarding axe.

James grew to love the life of a privateer, though a strange encounter many years later left him in something of the lurch.  Captaining his own vessel within the fleet of his former captain from the Edinburgh, James and his crew were tossed astray during a hurricane, leaving his sloop trapped in a bed of thick saragassum.  Within days, food and rum aboard his sloop started to run out, and mutiny soon came to the minds of his crew members.  Within hours, James was pulled from his bed, bound and gagged, and set adrift in the saragassum, left to die as the crew worked feverishly to cut himself loose.

Thirty four hours later, James Coburn vanished from this Earth.

Beamed aboard a junker starship, James awoke in a metallic cell which glowed softly with bars seemingly made of solid light.  Creatures clustered around the outside of his cell, curious as to what the little pink man with the strange clothing might be.  The captain of the vessel, a Gornab known as GaBESH, soon came to visit him.  Tossing a universal translator into the cell, GaBESH made his intentions known, "You.  Terran.  You serve me now.  Get dressed and get down to the engine room."

Within five days, James had led a mutiny of his own and GaBESH was unceremoniously disposed of through the airlock.

Since that day, James, now known across the galaxy as Sonny Jim, has amassed his own fleet of pirate vessels, collectively known as The Blackflag.  Together, Sonny Jim and his captains roam the space-ways, preying upon cargo ships, mining outposts, and undefended colonies throughout the galaxy.  While authorities of every known world hold a bounty on Sonny Jim's head, the pirate has become something of a folk hero throughout space, stealing from the wealthiest among the galaxy and hiding away storied artifacts and limitless wealth on long-abandoned moons and asteroids.  One can only imagine what wonders Sonny Jim and his crew have plundered, though few would dare risk his wrath by daring to steal from him...

I only know snippets of Latin myself, but I believe "hungry iron" would be the other way around.  My understanding is that this translates more closely into "hungry for iron."

I'm a little confused. If that all happened in the 1700s, how is Sonny Jim still alive today? Did he time travel? And if so, was it before or after he was abducted?

Says it all.

B-but… did the aliens time travel? Did they go through a wormhole? Did they get too close to the event horizon and time around them sped up hundreds of years? What?

… Who did this mans hair?

"Aliens."

If I wanted to care about comics continuity or such, I'd probably say something along the lines of "Well, Sonny Jim wasn't exactly the most talented starship captain and spent the first two years of his space-piracy career unaware of the time-dilation effects of traveling so close to the speed of light." 

But, if I'm being totally honest?  Aliens.  Plus, y'know, rule of cool.

Villain of the Day: April 5 (Dol-Raddar, the Exiled)

Dol-Raddar has never been a welcome guest.

Originally an inhabitant of the world we know as WASP-12b, Dol-Raddar was born with an innate attunement to the ebb and flow of cosmic energies.  In the early centuries of his life, he served as his world's champion, defending it from a number of interstellar raiders, cosmic monstrosities, and would-be conquerors.  WASP-12b was one of those few worlds that even Grand Warlord Voss decided against confronting, given its remote distance and the power of its stalwart defender. Over those years, Dol-Raddar only seemed to grow stronger, his form almost completely subsumed in cosmic light.

One of his homeworlds' most stalwart allies were literally the aliens next door:  the Bellphrons of Centua II.  Often serving as a liason between the two worlds, Dol-Raddar loved nothing more than riding the spaceways, soaring on the cosmic winds between the twin planets.  However, on one such occasion, the Bellphrons greeted Dol-Raddar not with open arms, but rather with a planetary blockade, ion cannons and neutron bombardment missiles at the ready.  As Dol-Raddar attempted to ask what had happened, the Bellphron fleet opened fire, bombarding him mercilessly.  He threw up a hasty shield around himself, only to deflect the atomic fire back into the fleet itself, sending ships cascading back to Centua II in tatters.

Only then did Dol-Raddar see what he had done.  Centua's moon was thrown out of its orbit; he had often used that moon as a launching space, and had inadvertently thrust the moon away from the planet as he left for WASP-12b.  This caused untold damage to the Bellphron civilization, covering any seaside city beneath meters of water and killing millions.  In horror and shame, Dol-Raddar returned to his homeworld...only to find that he had done the same to his beloved planet.  His unleashed cosmic power had pushed his world into a decaying orbit around its star...everyone he'd ever known or loved was naught but ash.

Dol-Raddar fled.  He has sought council across the cosmos, but his very prescence and sheer power seems to invite destruction.  His voice alone on one world shattered its tectonic structure; on another world, the flecks of cosmic energy emanating from his skin ignited their atmosphere.

Since that day, Dol-Raddar has exiled himself to the deepest parts of space, where no one can find him.  His might continues to grow, and he has devoted all of his willpower and strength to containing that power.  Were someone to disrupt his concentration--or worse, exploit him for their own ends--it might mean untold destruction for the entire cosmos.

Yeah, I totally get rule of cool, but without that explanation, it just pushes on my willing suspension of disbelief a little too hard.

Villain of the Day:  April 6 (The Armillarius)

Malondus III went dark.  A frequent trading partner with numerous other systems, Malondus was known for its water reserves, mineral wealth, and superior craftsmanship in metalcraft.  However, for a period of nearly two Terran years, no one managed to make any contact with Malondus.  Finally, one of their neighbors send an ambassador ship to restore contact. 

That ship never returned. 

A coalition of military ships were dispatched; initial scans of Malondus demonstrated nothing out of the ordinary, outside of a large preponderance of life on the planet below.  Their landing craft, however, found something entirely horrific.

Nearly every area of Malondus was rife with cloying, growing fungus that seemed to spread and writhe as if with a mind of its own.  The coalition's troops managed to explore the Malondian capital city and took several samples, but were swiftly forced into a fighting retreat.  The green-black fungus seemed to writhe and swarm with an animalistic intelligence, infecting numerous coalition troops and drowning them in an outpouring of mold and spores.

Malondus was declared a dead world, with numerous satellites surrounding the planet bearing warnings in all known languages.  However, the damage had already been done.  Within months, each of those coalition worlds were infested with their own fungus outbreaks, fighting for the survival of their very species.

The last known contact with these worlds is a satellite-borne warning message from the Aerilan Ka, one of the military scientists of Tholas V.

"My name is First Lieutenant Aerilan Ka.  I am a member of the Tholian Void-Navy and an inter-spatial biologist.  Our world is dead.  We have been overrun by a species of virulent fungus that we referred to as The Armillarius.  We fought valiently, but no measure of atomic fire or or ionic radiation can defeat this force.  If you value your life, your species, or any world at all, you will leave us to drift through the depths of space.  Leave us as the nothing we have become, lest The Atmillarius take your people as well, if not every world ever known."

I am all for malevolent fungus. :D

Villain of the Day: April 7 (Intractus the Intractable)

Akash’Bhuta is unique to Earth. The spirit devouring nature being has no equal in all the universe.

The Multiverse, however? Another story.

In another distant timeline, the being that became Akash’Bhuta became only so much fodder for a more malevolent Void spirit, which had begun amassing power centuries before her creation. In that reality, this creature, called Intractus the Intractable, swarmed over the nascent sentient beings of its world, devouring their very essences and eventually overtaking the whole planet. Intractus now is, in effect, a living planet, traveling through the Void, devouring all it comes across.

Distant mages, however, have detected something strange in the form of Intractus. In addition to its ambient Void energy, Intractus seems to have some powerful mote of blood magic deep in its core. Could it be that the reason for its strength and cosmic might is actually the trapped strength of living creatures, slowly digested over the centuries and millennia?

That really is sunbathing strange! :V

I love the name, though. Right up there with Immutus. :D

Ugh. Fixed. That’s what I get for updating this thread on my phone in between running convention games.

That's dedication, though!

Villain of the Day: April 8 (Dr. Gregory Nolan, the Mesonic Man)

That Tuesday was supposed to mark a crowning achievement.  It was supposed to be Dr. Gregory Nolan's finest hour--the day that the world took its first steps towards free, totally sustainable energy.  The day he became humanity's greatest minds.

That day, he disappeared.  While the Nolan Generator continues to power the entirety of the United States' western states, Nolan himself vanished without a trace.  Despite a thorough investigation and intervention by the Freedom Five, Nolan was as good as gone.  He was nowhere on Earth.

Rather, he managed to pull himself together on a small asteroid floating through the Kuiper Belt three years later.  

You see, that fateful day, Gregory Nolan's body was utterly annihilated by a flood of unstable mesons.  Every one of his molecules was irradiated to the point of molecular disassociation, flinging him at the atomic level throughout our solar system in but an instant.  However, in that harrowing instant, something seemingly miraculous happened.  His genetic material blended with the released mesons, granting him the ability to control atomic motion at its smallest incremental level.  Much later, Nolan learned that he could speed up or slow down chemical reactions, reshape objects at the molecular level, and alter elemental structures.  He had become, for all intents and purposes, a god.

After months of separation, motes of Gregory Nolan's consciousness began to coalesce around the now-stabilized mesons in the solar system.  He called to them and, within some degree of proximity, could reabsorb them into himself, taking a shape closer to his original form.  However, even though he still appears to wear the clothing and lab coat he bore that day, something appears off about Nolan.  His body glows with a soft luminescence, though he occasionally flickers with energy, flaring and pulsing as his emotions shift.  When he speaks, he seems utterly disassociated from his earlier life on Earth, as if he can remember it, but happened to someone else.  Rather, he seems much more fixed on exploring the cosmos, understanding the fundamental forces of the forces of the universe, and finding a new version of humanity with which he can replace the old.

In addition, portions of his body seem to be incomplete, as if they were dead pixels on an old monitor.  These are a particular sore spot for Nolan, as he still views himself as "incomplete".  The only portions that will complete him?  The mesons already absorbed by the individuals now referred to as Omegas.  And when the time is right, Gregory Nolan will come to collect...

Villain of the Day:  April 9 (The Legacy Council)

Millions upon millions of fractured timelines.  Thousands of fragmented realities.  Across all of them, the genetic aberration known as Legacy seems to be something of a fixed point.  They may not always be American, they may not always be men, they may not always be heroes...but every reality seems to have some Legacy.

With the destruction of OblivAeon in our past, most of the worlds that have ever existed have been wiped from time and space.  However, the group now calling themselves The Legacy Council have managed to thwart their own destruction...

The Legacy Council was formed by a Paul Parson dimensions away, whose superior intellect evolved over hundreds of years, allowing him to master interdimensional and interspatial travel.  His world was a utopia, though this Paul Parsons knew that it was a doomed world.  Without warning, without explanation, he simply left his world behind.   A simple note contained his last worlds to his former friends, "Regardless of what the future may hold, the Legacy will live on." 

And, in truth, that ethos has driven The Legacy Council since their inception.  Working out of a self-built deep-space station orbiting a pulsar, The Legacy Council has a prime directive of 'self-preservation'.  Alongside the aforementioned "Universe's Most Brilliant Legacy", the Legacy Council is ruled by Pl-P-563 (a Legacy who merged his consciousness with his universe's Omnitron XII, mentally overpowering and dominating the AI) and Razo'A (a Legacy who mastered blood magic, utilizing his genetic perfection in conjuntion with an artifact known as the Tear of Nakang) as a catalyst for extraordinarily potent arcane potential.  

While one might think The Legacy Council to be altruistic, reality dictates much the opposite.  As it turns out, nearly every timeline in which Legacy acted as a hero, that timeline resulted in utter annihilation.  As such, these Legacies are nothing if not pragmatic, cynical, and intensely focused.  While not villains, per se, they will stand for nothing that threatens their existence, the existence of their progeny, or their own might.

Regardless of what the future may hold, the Legacy will live on.

America's Cleverest Legacy, what hast thou donest? D:

Villain of the Day:  April 10  (Marshal Tor-En-Aal of the Militaes Cancri)

Grand Warlord Voss swept through the galaxy like a tidal wave.  After conquering Dok'Thorath, no world could withstand the onslaught of Voss's gene-bound servitors, his sadist underlings in the Nyxian Scourges, and his sycophantic followers on Dok'Thorath itself.  Voss was war.  Voss was conquest.  Voss was destruction.

The beings on the planet we have labled 55 Cancri-B knew this.  And they knew they would not be taken.  Their world was distant from Dok'Thorath, though they knew that their technology and might made them an optimal target for a genetic invasion.  The leaders of Cancri-B began a massive military build-up, investing incalculable resources into new technology, manadatory military training for every citizen, and defense protocols both on their world and in orbit around the numerous celestial bodies of their solar system.

At this head of this force stood one being, Tor-En-Aal, the Marshal of the Militaes Cancri.  Tor-En-Aal rose to his position on his combined reputation as a master tactician and military mind coupled with a deep-seated populism.  Tor-En-Aal is nothing if not a patriot, believing that the might and resilience of of the Militaes Cancri could beat back any tide, perhaps even ridding the universe of Voss once and for all.

Little did Tor-En-Aal know, Voss had already vanished.  The defenders of Terra III cast him into a far-off mystic realm, leaving Dok'Thorath foundering.  

However, without direct orders from their Grand Warlord, the various sub-commanders beneath Voss began to try their own hand at the art of conquest.  One such commander, Lieutenant Danal Kel-Rontor, set his proverbial sights on Cancri-B.  As the fleet of Thorathian ships began appearing on the Militaes Cancri scanners, Tor-En-Aal gripped his plasma mace in one taloned hand.  The war had come.  The moment that would define his people had come.

The battle was nothing short of a disaster for Danal and his followers.  Thorathian ships broke against the Cancri electron-blockade, suffering tremendous fire from the planet's surface-side ion cannonades.  Cancri boarding parties teleported aboard Danal's flagship, cutting down the soldiers aboard with practiced ease.  The Militaes Cancri had fought this battle countless times in simulation; the real thing almost seemed too easy.

Tor-En-Aal himself led the team that captured Danal and his command team.  Bursting onto the bridge, Tor-En-Aal spoke but few words to his adversary, "We have been waiting for you.  Where is Voss?"  Danal pleaded with the Marshal, outright stating that he had no commands and was out on his own, but to no avail.  Tor-En-Aal grimaced, hefting his crackling plasma mace, then crushed Lieutenant Danal's skull in a single blow.

The repelled "Day of Danal" invasion only further galvanized the Cancri people behind their Marshal.  Tor-En-Aal now had a new goal:  retribution.  He would lead the invasion of Dok'Thorath himself.  Together, the Militaes Cancri would crush Voss and his gene-bound foulness beneath their proverbial boot.  Together, they would make Dok'Thorath pay for its atrocities across the galaxy.  Together, they would bring justice and restitution to the hundreds of decimated core worlds.  

Even now, as petty functionaries and would-be warlords squabble for the throne of Dok'Thorath, the Cancri fleet descends upon the planet.  None will be spared their retribution.

Final recording from F.I.L.T.E.R. outpost 2.11.Delta.117.B: Video Footage of first encounter with being known as Golariq

Video recording from Labratory 12B, paroximately 53 seconds of recoverable footage.

--Play--

"Hey, Jensen, we finally got the footage back from the telescope. You might want to take a look at this, man. The formation the quasars are in is unreal, like a knife fight in a closet." the man crosses the Laboratory to another man in a jumpsuit checking images on a computer screen. Their faces visible in the camera,

"Wait, Quasar 's' as in multiple, are you sure you're polling the right coordinates." Jensen replies, turning to glower at the first man.

"You know I did, you came along and checked my work after the fact. Here let me pull up our footage." they shuffled about so that the first astronomer was at the computer, "Okay, I'll play our last 2 years, See that?"

"Four Pulsars!? Orbiting eachother? how stupid do you think I am. I swear Clint the pranks are one thing but doctoring footage to screw with me. I mean look at those two, as the go over and under the pulses go faster on that side from our perpsective. If you're gonna prank me with stars at least get them right."

"I'm telling you, it's the truth. These are the co-ordinates you gave me as the origin system of that black stone that hit Olympus Mons and I'm giving you the data we have." Jensen's voice growing defensive, "Wait, did you say the pulses are faster on the far side?" Jensen turns back to the screen and begins working the computer to change what they are viewing.

The second doctor leans in, Jensen's obvious curiosity seeming to convince him the footage is genuine.

"Watch, there are four, they must be the first four names on the stone, the language boys have any luck?"

"No, they identified one of the languages as Maerynian, but we're not about to fly back to earth and just Ask Tempest for help, it would alert Wagner we are here for starters and that's bad. We've identified five words that are the same accross all the languages though, guessing they're the stars." The Doctor leans in putting his head level with Jensen, "Five names, an object between the Pulsars would explain the faster pulses on the back end,"

"Well yeah, but only if they are rotating on their axis and pointed towards that obje.... This isn't a natural formation. How did.

"Wrong question man, Why. If it's not natural the first question should't be how, it should be Why. And this footage is old, the pulsars could be misaligned by now, or collapsed. It takes what, around six hundred years for light from that system to reach earth?" The doctors turn to face each other, 

Jensen's gulp is visible even in the camera, "Six hundred and sixty six light years,"

"Well, that's not Ominous at all." 

*Crash*

"THE FUCK IS THAT!"

"Screw the Science! Run!"

A shadowy deamonic figure obscures the scientists, untill Jensens face is raised into view again, being held off the floor by his throat by the winged figure

"what are the coordinates and direction of that system."

"HERE, HERE THEY'RE WRITTEN DOWN! JUST DON'T KILL ME!"He squirms trying to get away, the figure drops the scientist to sprawl on the floor, turns and flexes his shoulders before launching himself upward with the sound of smashing glas and escaping atmosphere

--end playback--

Villain of the Day:  April 11 (Orbital Station Equis)

The station that was originally constructed around Equis II was meant to be a symbol of peace and security.  

Three species--the Voltarrish of Kalek IX, the Entarium of Entar IV, and the Priliians of Nocarus II--had been at war for decades.  Planetary bombardment, raid on ships, blockades of mining outposts and other resource gathering...all these things had brought these civilizations to their knees.  

At long last, the leaders of the three planets called a cease-fire.  Diplomats, artists, and leaders of all stripes descended upon Equis II, a neutral planet almost exactly midway between all three planets.  There, a much needed peace was forged.  After so many years of conflict, the three planets finally expressed a willingness to work together.  There, they declared their intention to create an orbital research station:  a tripartite creation devoted to science, engineering, and advancement of all three races.

Construction on Orbital Station Equis flew by.  Volatarrish alloys proved to work phenomenal within Prilliian metallurgical techniques.  Entarium computing processors allowed Voltarrish machinery to work beyond peak efficiency.  Together, the races created a place of wonder, which no one individual race could have possibly made on their own.  

No one knows exactly what happened aboard Orbital Station Equis.  Some thought that the Prilliian quadrinary computing code was incompatible with the Entarrium hardware.  Others blamed the Voltarrish metals, leaking some sort of corrupting haze into various subsystems.  Others blame a strange solar pulse emanating from the star Equis itself.  Regardless of the source of the madness, death reigned aboard Orbital Station Equis.  With luminaries of all three races aboard the station for its grand opening, the station's subsystems went berserk.  Basic defensive subsystems mowed down unarmed politicians and celebrities where they stood.  Service robots tore apart civilians with basic maintenance tools and implements.  Within 14 minutes, no living being stood within Orbital Station Equis.  After 26 minutes, the station itself had retrofitted its core reactor into a fusion-driver device, sending a beam of superheated helium into Equis II's surface, turning the lush planet's surface into an uninhabitable waste.

The great monument to peace had literally become a symbol of eternal war.  The three races once again descended into warfare, each blaming the others for the tragedy aboard the orbital station.  Meanwhile, Orbital Station Equis drifts through the void, laying in wait for any sentient creature that dares step foot aboard its harrowed corridors.

Villain of the Day:  April 12 (The Men in Dark Coats)

Marty Fineman was abducted by aliens.  He knew it, he was sure of it, and he wouldn't shut up about it. 

Everyone in Red Grove knew about Marty's abduction.  No matter the subject of conversation--from town hall meeting to small talk over pie at Velma's Diner--Marty always managed to divert the topic to his abduction.  

Back in '92, Marty was was out fetching one of his cows out from his neighbor's field.  One of the trees that marked the property line had fallen in a recent storm and Marty just hadn't quite made it out there with his chainsaw to take it down the rest of the way.  And, of course, that Guernsey calf just wouldn't stay at home.  As the sun set over the fields, Marty started marching through his neighbor's rows of corns, calling out for the missing calf.  

Three lights appeared like giant spotlights over the field, illuminating the night.  Marty'll be the first to tell you--"it weren't no flying saucer; it was a triangle!"  A greenish light beamed down on the farmer, lifting him aboard the strange craft.

From there, Marty's story always gets a bit hazy.  Sometimes he gets probed, other times they only take his blood.  Sometimes the aliens are lizard-like, other times they're the "Greys" of urban legend, most recently they were these tentacled creatures with giant suckers--never mind that Marty had just been watching a Lovecraftian-horror movie a few nights ago.  

The one constant in all of Marty's tellings, however, have been The Men in Dark Coats:  two men wearing black trenchcoats, standing behind the aliens, watching the medical processes as they transpire.  One of them, tall and thin, watches intently, his eyes hidden behind black mirror shades.  The second, shorter and stockier, takes notes on a pocket notepad with a #2 pencil.  

Marty Fineman's become nothing short of the running joke of Red Grove.  While he still goes about his daily life, he insists that he was abducted, that hideous experiments were conducted on him, and that the world's governments have been in on it the whole time.  And now, with Maerynians living on Earth, he's even more convinced that the conspiracy goes deeper than anyone knows.

Villain of the Day:  April 13 (Species Dirthial-13c)

The world of Dirthialan is a forbidden place. 

The original Dirthialans were renowned throughout the galaxy as masters of genetic manipulation.  Even before they turned their eyes to the starry heavens, the Dirthialans had all but eradicated disease within their populace.  Obesity and heart disease were unheard-of, literally edited out of the Dirthialan genetic code.  Birth defects and other genetic disorders became a footnote in their history, as they walked that tenuous balance between dystopian eugenic cloning and allowing individual autonomy over personal genetic information.  Hunger was unheard of, as genetically modified crops were bred for maximum yield and nutritional value with minimal impact upon the modified Dirthialan physiology.

When the Dirthialans made first contact with another race, however, they were swift to expand their reach to other planets and share their findings with other species, in exchange for inorganic technologies.  While many expected the Dirthialans to trade for weaponry, the creatures instead focused on transport ships, holographic emitters, and defensive shielding.  Only the closest of Dirthial's allies knew the reality behind this:  Dirthial already had all the weapons they ever would need:  long range viral torpedoes, capable of decimating the population of whole continents within hours, leaving any Dirthialan troops utterly unscathed.

And, as seems to be the case throughout the cosmos, war changes everything.

After a resource-sharing deal on an uninhabited planet went awry, the Dirthialans found themselves in conflict with the Kantorax of Ilio-IV.  As threats escalated and a Kantorax expeditionary force attacked a Dirthialan supply convey, the viral torpedoes were loaded and fired.

Perhaps it was a rare genetic aberration in the Kantorax genome.  Perhaps there was some error in the Dirthialan gene-splicing.  Perhaps it was some rare radiation that mutated the viruses in their torpedo canisters.  Regardless of source, the Kantorax were not merely slain by the virus bombardment.  Rather, something began to emerge.  Something sentient.  Something malevolent.  Something with a vast hatred of all other life.

The pestilent creatures that emerged from the Kantorax corpses were like something from a fevered nightmare.  Skittering on taloned legs, they clutched and ravaged at the occupying Dirthialan forces, sending them fleeing for their drop ships in a fighting retreat.  Were the creatures to have been trapped on Ilio-IV, that might have been the end of them.  But, just a few of the species now referred to as Species Dirthial-13c managed to sneak aboard those ships, ravaging the crew and running free across the surface of Dirthial itself.

And now?  The entire population of Dirthial has fallen beneath the claws and teeth of a genetically-perfect apex predator.  Expeditions have been made to reclaim Dirthial have been fruitless; the few survivors of such expeditions have often unleashed untold horrors onto their homeworlds as Species Dirthial-13c makes its way to another planet.  Kill it with fire; it's the only way to be sure.

Oops! :D

Villain of the Day:  April 14  (The Hounds)

The mere concept of their mere existence is nothing short of fuel for children's nightmares.  They are implacable, unstoppable, indomitable.  

The known worlds refer to them as The Hounds.

The creatures known as the hounds are no mere canines, though some believe that they may have some degree of genetic similarity to certain breeds found even on Terra.  However, in most manners, appear to be more insectile, with clacking mandibles and a soft 'whirrr' released when they breathe.  Some believe that The Hounds are not natural creatures and, instead, have been genetically crafted by some malevolent force.  None have ever managed to incapacitate one of The Hounds to perform a full genetic autopsy.

Every known encounter with one of The Hounds describes them as wearing a terrifying mask or helmet over their head, providing both protection and enhanced sensory arrays.  The Hounds are known weaponsmiths and armorers, wielding armament unlike any seen throughout the cosmos.  Anti-coagulant laced flechette rounds ensure that their targets continually bleed during the pursuit.  Seeker drones and mechanical entrapments pursue and corner The Hounds' quarry, ripe for the harvesting.  In melee, the Hounds are unmatched opponents, wielding jagged, serrated blades meant to disable and maim.  They have no weakness.  They know no fatigue.  They exist simply to hunt.

The pertinent question, however, is "Why?"  Why do The Hounds pursue their targets?  How do they choose them and why those targets over others?  To date, The Hounds have provided no answer and the only being known to have compiled a database on The Hounds' victims was Kalo Treenal, one of the Kantorax scientists slain on Ilo-IV.  Kalo was rumored ot have discovered the homeworld of The Hounds--both the place from which they originated and from which they mount their attacks.  However, following the devastation on Ilo-IV, that database seems lost to the ages...

Nice Fahrenheit 451 reference! Sounds like you lifted Bradbury’s words exactly, though, if memory serves.

Wait, what? I’m not sure what you mean…
It’s been ages since I’ve read Fahrenheit 451; something may have leaked into my subconscious.

(Edit–Ohhh! Lol. Totally unintended, but awesome regardless. I didn’t see any accidental plagiarism, but if I did get too close, do alert me!)

Nah, looked it up, and it’s not even as similar as I thought. But the insectoid shapes, the drugged weapons, and their sightly ambiguous reasons for choosing their targets definitely evoke Bradbury’s Hounds.

Honestly, when i sat down to write these ones, my impetus was more "Let's do a canine version of Predator."  

As mentioned, it's been years since I've read 451–I did re-read "Something Wicked This Way Comes" about a year ago, and I used to teach "A Sound of Thunder" to my freshman English classes, typically alongside "The Machine that Won the War" from Asimov and "Harrison Bergeron" from Vonnegut.

Villain of the Day:  April 15 (Dendralus of Molandor II)

The Molandan people excel at one thing beyond all others:  the art of healing.  Regardless of species, regardless of genetic anomaly, the Molandans have a distinct grasp of the medicinal arts.  

Partly, this comes as a matter of necessity.  The Molandan race is notoriously long-lived, but also has an equally notorious low birth rate.  Molandans are rarely able to carry their young to term, and the act of birthing is highly lethal to Molandans.  However, their genetic framework innately contains an ability to channel a rare, positive energy which fosters regeneration and natural healing.  Even a single Molandan, untrained in actual medicine or pharmacology, can heal even the most grievous of injury with only a few minutes spent laying their hands upon the injured area.

This, of course, has made them into great allies to races throughout the galaxy.  Molandan healers have treated great artists, philosophers, warlords, and thinkers from across the cosmos.  And none of them have touched so many lives as Dendralus.

But, little did any of those know...Dendralus is more than a Molandan healer and physician.  Dendralus has tapped into a vast reservoir of psychic power, which he is able to enmesh with his own genetic gift for healing.  Whenever Dendralus uses his gift, he threads the new tissue with a psychic membrane which leaves his patient with a hidden psychic anchor.  This anchor holds a two-fold purpose:  it makes the patient much more resistant to any form of psychic control or assault...aside from that from Dendralus, for whom it serves as a gateway into the subject's mind.  Dendralus can, with ease, tap into the mind of any being he has healed and control them from light-years away.  

The list of beings who have come to Molandor for healing is long and luminous.  And, of course, Dendralus' services in particular, are in high demand.  He needs merely wait for the right individuals to come across his clinic door to rule the entirety of the cosmos...

Villain of the Day:  April 16 (Blazaar)

The appearance of Blazaar in the cosmos is nothing short of an anomaly.

It first appeared on the very center of the Andromeda Galaxy, near the supermassive black hole around which the rest of the galaxy orbits.  The area was believed to be a dead zone, though as the OblivAeon event raged across the cosmos, something new began to coalesce within that area.  

First contact with the being known as Blazaar occurred with the Xaolans of Arigas VI.  Silicate-based beings, the Xaolans were quick to take to the stars and began colonizing numerous worlds, as their unique biology allowed them to thrive in a number of environments.  However, the Xaolans had little recourse when they responded to what they thought to be a distress call...but turned out to be a blast of phenomenal cosmic power, utterly annihilating whole worlds and driving the Xaolans to near-extinction.

But, what is Blazaar?  Xenobiologists believe that it is something akin to a living quasar, formed by the intense pressure and denseness of the Andromedan black hole.  However, something seems strange about Blazaar.  It seems to, in fact, have an intelligence.  Those who have survived encounters with Blazaar claim to hear screams of pain, anguish, and desperation, as if a multitude of voices were crying out from some continual torture and devastation.  This has caused some scholars to believe that Blazaar is no mere compression of cosmic energy, but rather a compression of emotional resonance:  in effect theorizing that Blazaar contains the consciousness of all those beings slain by OblivAeon.  While this theory is little more than conjecture, the information available does seem to fit the theory rather well.

As for what Blazaar wants--who knows?  Perhaps the best possible end for such a strange creature is simply the eternal rest of death itself.

Just so I know I'm understanding: Blazzar is a psychic storm of despair and other feeling that's been floating around space?

Yup!

Ah, Okei-Doke. Again, just wanted to make sure I understood. :)

Villain of the Day:  April 17  (The Harmonic)

*from a blog entry released to The New Patriot online magazine*

My name is Adam Vith.  There's a two inch diameter hole in my chest.  

I'm looking at it right now.  I'm not bleeding, I'm not not in shock.  Well, I'm shocked, but not *in shock*.  To my knowledge, I am sound of body and sound of mind.

As I write this, I am sitting at my kitchen table.  My wife has gone to work.  My daughter just left for school.  Ten minutes ago, I called into my workplace, claiming that I had an emergency dentist appointment.  

There is something living in the hole in my chest.  I can hear it talking to me;  Its voice is in my head.  The voice is a little sibilant, but overall it's comforting.  It keeps reassuring me that everything is okay.  It says it's one of The Harmonic.

I'm not sure what happened that caused this, truth be told.  I woke up two nights ago to get a glass of water and ended up falling asleep on the couch.  I remember something biting me on the chest right where the hole currently sits.  When I awoke, the hole was there--no blood, no pus, no signs that a wound was ever caused, outside of the hole itself.  

I didn't tell Julie.  I probably should have.  She'll likely have a lot of questions.  I'm going to try to do this cleanly, so it's easier on them.

The thing in the hole in my chest stopped screaming at me a while ago.  It knows what I'm going to do, but it's the only resort that I have.  It has a good degree of control over my nervous system, but I think it has an alcohol sensitivity.  Two shots of vodka, and it's gone quiet.  That'll give me time to finish.

A few things to know:  it's not alone.  There are others out there, living inside of people, just like me.  They're weak, apparently, outside of a host body, but they can take a new host in seconds.  I'm banking on that.  I'll have to move fast, but I can do it.  The forceps are heating up on the stove right now.

It said that they came from a dying world, that they used to breed their own hosts specifically to 'ride', but that a plague nearly destroyed all of their host bodies.  So they're looking to move in.  Not here.  Not me.  

This is going to go one of three ways:  it's not going to work and it'll take control of me again; it won't work and I'll die, or it'll work and we'll go to war.  I hope, for the sake of everyone, it's the last one.

*Editor's Note--Adam Vith was found dead at his kitchen table, with a scalpel and set of forceps embedded in a vast incision in his chest.  The only fingerprints on the items were Adam's own.  A small trail of scuttling claws could be found through the blood of the kitchen floor, but the trail ends in a nearby dog park.

Villain of the Day:  April 18 (Ta-Lor-En-Da-To)

There is a world on the edge of the known cosmos where the lines between being and vibration enmesh.  This world, designated Setinas 34c-Gamma, is not a homeworld for any recorded species; while it has a dense, oxygen-rich atmosphere, no race has ever managed to maintain a colony here.

That, quite simply, is because of the Ta-Lor-En-Da-To.  This creature is unlike any within the Multiverse; Jansa Vi Dero approached it once, believing it to be an Endling, though the Ta-Lor seemed to not even recognize Jansa as anything more than another stone or rock.  After several hours of observation, Jansa returned to her Enclave, as confused as she had ever been in her centuries of existence.  

However, in her observations, several items became quite apparent:

• The Ta-Lor seems to simultaneously exist as a solid, serpentine creature and as an ephemeral being of pure sonic energy.
• It seems to alternate between something of animalistic intelligence and true sentience, though in both cases, it seems to know no recorded language.
• The Ta-Lor can, in its sonic form, rift reality and enter the Void itself.  Such portals remain for moments following its passing, but provide a potential venue for others to enter the Void physically.
• The area around the Ta-Lor seems to warp and wend in its presence, shifting in and out of the Void with each blink of the eye.  

However, the strangest fact about the Ta-Lor-En-Da-To is on its underbelly.  A sigil is emblazed on its chest, as if the crest of some master artisan, of an open eye enclosed in a diamond.  Needless to say, this only raises more questions than it answers...

Outside of potentially being harmful to be near, and impossible to reason with, it doesn't sound too villainous, or even that threatening...

It’s more of an obstacle than outright v villain, but still usually an adversary for the PCs.

Villain of the Day:  April 19 (Avarrus)

Traluaa II is a world without metahuman abilities.  Not by design or chance, mind you, but by purposeful theft.  

No one seems to know Avarrus' real name.  As a Traluuan, it is likely that he originally hails from either Traluua II or its colonies on Nilanda VI, though Avarrus has never returned to either place since his emergence into the cosmos.  However, after being tailed for years by the cosmic magus known as Fallen Vanos, several clues have emerged as to what Avarrus has become and what he is now.

Vanos claims that Avarrus is not in control of his full faculties and is, rather, possessed by a spirit of The Host.  Specifically, Avarrus's consciousness is consumed by a Spirit of Desire, which drives his every waking thought.  As such, Avarrus travels from world to world, seeking out the most powerful of a given species, defeating those individuals and tearing away their powers in a strange ritual, adding them to his own abilities.  This tends to leave the original creature enervated and weakened, often on the verge of death, if not provided with immediate medical care.

Vanos further notes that Avarrus is further able to drain the abilities from arcane or otherwise empowered artifacts, though his ability to utilize these powers seems to be limited.  While Xavix, Wielder of the Staff Perpetual, was one of Avarrus' first targets, the powers of the Staff Perpetual returned after mere hours, while Avarrus was light-years away.  This has not stopped Avarrus from targeting empowered artifacts, though he typically only does so when in pursuit of some other, more permanent goal, such as the defeat and absorption of another, stronger metahuman.

To date, Avarrus has collected a number of potent abilities:  the prescience and reflexes of Kanala the Undefeated, the light manipulation of Brilliant Xex, the durability and resilience of Mongor Unbroken, and the density shifting abilities of Can-Arek Tel.  Vanos has pursued Avarrus across the vast reaches of space, merely observing and learning his target's strengths, rather than interfering and presenting himself as a potential target.  However, Vanos has spied quite the desirable target for Avarrus:  a planet which might provide a theater for his inevitable confrontation with the Traaluan and his possessor spirit.  Earth.

Villain of the Day:  April 20 (Atroclos the Multiplier)

Atroclos knew he was the greatest.  He needed only find the proper avenue.

A silicate-based being originally hailing from Kalarias II, Atroclos the Multiplier was not born with powers.  Rather, a freak accident involving black-body radiation transformed him drastically, turning him into something of a living blend of silicate and dark matter.  This alone would might provide most beings power--if it didn't kill them instantly--but in Atroclos, something quite strange occurred.

Atrcolos was gifted a unique ability from his exposure to the black-body radiation.  Any force which acted upon him would be rebounded upon its actor in an exponentially greater magnitude.  A punch that might bruise Atroclos' face would be met in turn with a recoil capable of shattering a man's arm.  A blast of energy that might send him careening away would be met with a blast in kind that could overload and annihilate the initiator.  

And a beam capable of destroying a planet?  Infinite power at his fingertips.

As a soldier on Kalarias II, Atroclos was already a part of the military complex, but his newfound powers granted him a high rank and access to classified information, including that of Kalarias' numerous enemies.  It was an easy thing for intelligence to fall to the worlds' enemies, for schematics of planetary defenses to disappear.

Atroclos' opportunity arose as the Ixthantu fleet surrounded Kalarius II, their orbital mass-driver focused on the Kalarian capitol.  At the center of the capitol, awaiting the bombardment, was Atroclos himself.  

The initial mass-driver impact detonated the Kalarian capitol, but the backlash from Atroclos destroyed everything within the entire system.  Atroclos alone floated in the void, conscious and reveling in the demonstration of his power.  Still feeling the kinetic energy vibrating within him, he rocketed through the cosmos, eager to find the next multiplication of his power.

Villain of the Day:  April 21 (The Dholes)

Ixthain IV is a world coveted by many, but explored by few.

While many interstellar drives work by using either a fusion generator or upon a more traditional graviton-engine running on what humans called Einsteinium, the energy released in a reaction utilizing Natadium-166 dwarfs nearly any currently used in any known fuel source across the cosmos.  Further, Natadium-166 is a stable isotope, making transport easy and manipulation particularly safe.  If that weren't enough, even the most rudimentary Natadium-166 reactors function at over 95% efficacy, producing only miniscule, stable waste, while releasing phenomenal amounts of energy.  And, of course, Ixthain IV holds more Natadium-166 than any other known world.

And yet, Ixthain IV is deserted.  It is a realm ruled only by The Dholes.

Mankind's only interaction with The Dholes came through the landing of the USS Challenger III, an international effort to reverse-engineer graviton-engines and retrofit it to current space travel designs.  The Challenger III leapt through hyperspace, emerging and establishing an orbit surrounding Ixthain IV.  When structures were discovered from orbit, the commander of Challenger III sent down two drop ships to explore the planet below.

The horrors endured by those away teams were nothing short of cataclysmic.  Even the barest noise or vibration seemed to cause the surface of Ixthain to rumble.  As the teams began to explore what they swiftly learned to have been a Qubrin mining base, the attacks began in earnest.  Massive creatures, resembling many-mawed earthworms, breached the sandy surface of Ixthain, swimming through the silt and sand as if a swimmer through water.  Out of 18 individuals across two teams, only 6 individuals managed to make it back to the Challenger III, screaming all the while.  One such individual, Sergeant-Major Emily Torohama, slumped into a seat in a briefing room aboard the Challenger III, her mind reeling back to the weird fiction she read as a teenager.  "Lovecraft had it right," she said, "there are some things out here that we should just leave well enough alone."

But of course, samples of Natadium-166 made it back to Earth.  And, unsurprisingly, a sample found its way to Nautilus Industries who, despite the protests of numerous world governments, has begun preparing a return mission to Ixthain IV...ready to take the fight to the Dholes themselves in search of a way to power the world for centuries to come.

I know it's probably pronounced like "doals", but I can't help but read it as "d-holes".

Anyway, I love seeing all the inspiration your villains take from other pieces of media and wondering how much of it is intentional. For instance, Ixthain IV reminds me a whole lot of the moons in Starbound.

Dholes are actually a type of dog! :D

...These are bad doggies. c.c

If we’re going from Lovecraft’s ilk, we’ll likely never have a true pronunciation. I tend to say “Doals” though.

As for pop culture references, yeah they’re likely overt. The Harmonic was meant to be a take on the Goa’uld from Stargate, there have been takes on Alien and Predator recently, as well.
But, occasionally, its also meant intentionally in universe. Major Emily calling these things Dholes, for example, was meant by her to homage Lovecraft.

Villain of the Day:  April 22 (The Preservers)

Halicos IX was a doomed world.

The Helicans there had stripped their planet of resources, had cracked their world's crust to excavate its minerals, and had befouled their atmosphere with the byproducts of unchecked industry.  Without miraculous intervention, the Halicos IX faced oblivion.

That's when the ships arrived.  Great oblong ships appeared in orbit around Halicos.  The Helicans attempted to make contact in every language they knew; the ships did not respond.  After two days, the Helican military launched a pre-emptive strike, firing six ultra-dense neutron warheads into the lead ship.  The torpedoes never made it within 1,000 meters of the ship, instead falling harmlessly to the ocean below, utterly disarmed.

Within that hour, a message beamed across every Helican screen.

"We are The Preservers.  Your world faces annihilation.  We will preserve it.  Do not resist.  Do not attempt to leave your world.  You will be preserved.  You will live forever."

The Helican authorities scrambled to provide a response.  A scout ship was launched, attempting to dock with The Preservers' lead ship.  As the ship broke through Helican ionosphere, a coruscating purple beam emanated from the nose of The Preservers' ship, tearing the scout ship in twain.  A Helican fleet was swiftly assembled, but by the time the Helican authorities gave the launch command, it was too late.

Halicos IX had vanished.  Its moons, free of their gravitational bonds, flew off into the void of space.  No evidence remained to show that Halicox IX had ever existed...

...outside of the handful of witnesses that watched The Preservers remove Halicos IX.  A ship of pirates--part of Sonny Jim's Blackflag fleet--had hoped to pillage Halicos before its self-destruction, only to have a front-row seat to the opening of a rift in reality, through which The Preservers shoved the entire Helican homeworld.  That ship, captained by a Tholaquian named Braxxic Ell, immediately abandoned its mission of piracy, bringing a message of panic and alarm across the galaxy.  

The Preservers were coming.

Okay, that's really cool! :D

Villain of the Day:  April 23 (The Hierarch Mandate)

"Chaos was the law of nature.  Order was the dream of man."

In the wake of OblivAeon, entire worlds and societies were left reeling.  Even those few worlds to have never encountered the timeline-shattering Leviathan still felt the shockwaves of the chaos and madness of its destruction.

Thalomian entArnd had none of this.

A mathematican and programmer on the far-off world of elmOng, Thalomian was witness to the devastation left behind by OblivAeon, and even that of the so-called heroes who drove off that creature.  Their conflict bred calamity, calamity devolved into chaos.  As one of the few citizens of elmOng who remained in "flesh-life", rather than a fully automated, technologically augmented existence, Thalomian took it upon himself to turn the universe back towards order and stability.  

As one of the few elmOng still in flesh-life, Thalomian was trusted.  That trust was ill-founded.

For what seemed to be months, Thalomian toiled in his morgue-workshops, experimenting with those few beings of elmOng who dared approach true-death.  Within their semi-conscious minds, Thalomian found what he believed to be the answer.  He called it The Hierarch Mandate.

The beings of elmOng began to reformat their cybernetic bodies, creating a systemic, organized hierarchy capable of enforcing order throughout the galaxy.  Their flesh-remains, still screaming against their synapto-programming, were re-engineered at the genetic level to match one another, forming a perfect order across the whole of elmOng.  Within days, Thalomian himself was the only being still in flesh-life remaining on elmOng.  

The Hierarch Mandate, having ordered all of elmOng, began to strike out to nearby systems.  Three whole worlds were brought under the order of the Mandate, with any beings in flesh-life joining the Hierarch in both mind and body.  And they will not stop until the whole of the universe turns with all the clarity and complexity of clockwork.  It is their mandate.  It is the order of things.

Villain of the Day:  April 24 (Stolon, Prime Extensor of The Exciccatus)

To all appearances, Virgate III is a verdant wonderland of life.

Plant life teems across the planet's surface, green foliage and bright flowers burst into vibrant color and aroma, and roots sink deep into rich topsoil.  Small creatures scuttle between the branches, carrying nuts and seeds from place to place, allowing new plants to bloom with ease.

On many worlds, this is not out of the ordinary.  On Virgate, the 'ordinary' couldn't be farther from the truth:  these plants have gained consciousness.  

While life on Earth and most other planets evolved from animal species, consciousness arose on Virgate from the plant universe, with particularly long-lived trees and mounds of moss able to learn and communicate telepathically.  While life began to evolve into animalistic forms, the plant creatures quickly learned that any higher form of animal life soon started to rip and shred the biosphere, utilizing it for its own ends.  That could not stand.  Banding together under a leader known as the Prime Extensor, the plants of Virgate III choked out any animal life larger than a squirrel, ensuring that they would maintain dominion over the planet.  Vines strangeled, thorns impaled, sap poisoned, and nearly all animal life on Virgate III died.

That would be fine...if The Exciccatus--as the plants call themselves collectively--had chosen to stay on Virgate III.

As the Prime Wardens and Freedom Five first defeated Akash'Bhuta, the primal spirit's scream let loose a telepathic signal across the Multiverse.  Of course, Stolon, the current Prime Extensor, heard this call, vowing to take action.

Great star-seeds were flung into the cosmos, each with a thick shell designed to protect the innermost contents.  Across the cosmos, the star-seeds of the Exciccatus began to spread the plants' influence across entire worlds, tearing down civilizations with the patience, persistence and fury of nature unleashed.  And, of course, deep within the jungles of Costa Rica, a massive seed has crashed to Earth, beginning to sprout forth with a new growth of plants.  The beings of Earth will surely pay for their crimes against plants...

Villain of the Day:  April 25 (The Floating Tomb of Ubavi)

While the overwhelming majority of the civilizations throughout the cosmos reside on planets and moons, countless asteroids and meteors drift ceaselessly through the void.  Most times, exploration of these are limited to mining operations or salvage operations for the numerous ships that crash against them accidentally.  Rarely does any race truly try to colonize these celestial bodies, as they have little or no atmosphere, nor do they provide any natural resources that foster life.

All this only makes The Floating Tomb of Ubavi all the more strange.

A non-descript asteroid drifts through the void of space endlessly, though observant space-farers may not a carved archway leading into the depths of the asteroid itself.  Above the archway, strange circular writing covers the archway.  While this writing went untranslated for years, an astute linguist managed to locate references to the language in an ancient database aboard a long-forgotten hulk, crashed into barren world.  The language, called Ubavi, has not been spoken or written in the known universe in centuries.

Dlanaic, the scholar in question, translated the archway as such:  "Enter you now unto the final prison of the Alanami.  The watchers stand ready to cease your ingress.  Enter to give life to the Alanami and enter to die.  Enter to take the power of the watchers and enter to die.  Behold now: the light-breaker, the world-shatterer, the husk of galaxies.  Enter now the end of days."

Only one record exists that shows anyone to have actually entered the floating tomb:  the journal of the explorer/anarchist Dranax the Mad.  Dranax describes a strange realm within the tomb in which gravity and direction are meaningless and a clockwork labyrinth lies waiting, with skittering beetle creatures commanded by blank-faced statuary.  Dranax makes notes that he fled the field, truly a rarity for a creature such as Dranax.

In this day?  Few could ever find the tomb of Ubavi, much less reach the light-breaker within.  And who would know to even look for the tomb, much less dare search out such a thing?

Hm, could the Tomb of Ubavi be related to Adam's character's origin story in the Sentinels Live game?

Wasn’t intended that way, but could easily become just that!

Villain of the Day:  April 26 (The Kas-Valo Mercenaries)

They are the scourge of the spaceways.  They are the armored fist that crushes worlds.  They live for war.  For each one that dies, entire systems die first.  They are the best in the multiverse. 

They are The Kas-Valo Mercenaries.

In truth, the Kas-Valo are not particularly large in number.  A mercenary company of just over 1,000 beings, the Kas-Valo recruits the deadliest, most bloodthirsty from the known worlds, placing them in areas to best suit their distinct talents.  The technically minded are furnished with the finest of salvage and stolen goods, creating masterpiece weapons and armor.  Those suited to shipboard combat are trained in engineering, maintenance, and navigation, making the Hive Ship Dralor's Maw into one of the sleekest dreadnaught-class ships in the cosmos.  All are trained in the arts of warfare.  

At the helm of Dralor's Maw is its helmswoman, an Entarrian named Linalis.  A stern enforcer, Linalis brooks no insurbordination and has been known to discorporate any of her underlings who dare question her orders.  Despite this, she seems near indefatigable in hand-to-hand combat and in marksmanship, and the crew of Dralor's Maw flock to her like none other...save The Commandant.

Rarely seen outside of an active conflict, The Commandant is the true commander of the Kas-Valo mercenaries.  A hulking figure clad in gargantuan modular battle armor, only the highest ranking officers on the Dralor's Maw have ever claimed to have seen his face.  To those, The Commandant has claimed to be have once been a military officer from that backwater world of Terra III.  Since those days, The Commandant has turned his armor into his true face--an engine of war, an indestructible platform of destruction.  He has scoured the galaxy for the hardiest, most dedicated warriors, preparing for a conflict that will shake the cosmos to their core.

Villain of the Day:  April 27  (The Chordatus Parasite)

It was designed as the ultimate weapon of war.  It became nothing short of a blight upon the entire cosmos.

Originally engineered by the beings of Llamor II, the protozoan loadout now known as The Chordatus Parasite was meant to enhance the the Llamoran soldiers in ways that cybernetics and genetic engineering never could.  Delivered as an orb of protoplasmic goo, the Chordatus Parasite absorbed through the subject's skin, bonding to its host's spinal column and brain stem.  Fully bonded, the creature found itself with enhanced reflexes, advanced neural processing time, and heightened senses.  However, it quickly became apparent that by letting the Chordatus Parasite exude over their skin, the subjects would also gain enhanced strength and durability, as the parasite itself served as a biological exo-armor.

However, this was not enough for most of the subjects, nor was it enough for the Llamorian military.  Further experiments were undertaken, to push the limits of both the parasite and its hosts.  Over time, the hosts began to develop various metahuman abilities, growing stronger and stronger...until the day they overthrew the Llamoran governmental authority.

At that point, it became more than clear:  the hosts were no longer in control.  Rather, the parasite itself was driving the host like a remote pilot, only manifesting externally when in combat, to enhance its hosts already-augmented abilities.  Designs were immediately made for expansion...

Llamor was annihilated by orbital bombardment, under a an alliance of fiften neighboring systems.

Since that day, a few instances similar to those of the Chordatus Parasite have appeared throughout the cosmos, most notably through the star-faring hero known as Sophont Praxis.  However, even a casual observer might note that Sophont Praxis' behavior has been erratic of late, and that it has not seemed itself...

Villain of the Day: April 28 (The Gamesman)

The Wager was made. One lost. One won. Many more watched.

But as the universe sprang into being, one of those primordial watchers took notice of something peculiar. It reveled in the collisions of chance and consequence, of strategy and tactics. It finally knew what it truly was: a Gamesman, set to test the universe to its limits and provide the challenge necessary to truly question the worth of its denizens.

The Gamesman most often appears as a purple skinned, robed figure with delicate, long fingered hands and a dispassionate smirk. It has appeared throughout the universe in various societies, particularly interfering in the doings of legendary heroes or storied villains. As one might imagine, it has a propensity for games of all sort. Challengers have met The Gamesman in gladiatorial combat, in gambling halls, and in long forgotten labyrinths built by the universe’s precursor races.

However, one species fascinates him more than any other. A species that prides itself on its myriad methods of self amusement, cleverness, and its designs in new games. From the dark side of the moon, he watches, waiting to test the Earthlings as they make their first forays into the galaxy…

Villain of the Day:  April 29 (Ajida Kesakambali)

The Earth was not always viewed as the backwater, squabbling third cousin of the Milky Way.  However, mankind's greatest change to join the ranks of the cosmological elite came and went with the sage once known as Ajida Kseakambali, once and now called Charvaka.

Charvaka's philosophy was first documented in one of the lost scrolls of the Ramayana in the 6th century BCE, as a branch of Hindu thinking.  In his discussions with Rama, Charvaka (also known as Lokayata) espoused a tripartite way of thought, meant to bring about a valid state of universal, metaphysical knowledge.  While the Rama disputed Charvaka's way of thought--a way of thinking still at odds with current Hindu orthodox--Ajida did not relent.  Taking his followers to an island off the eastern coast of modern-day India, Charvaka continued to rail against the more prevalent philosophies of the day.

Such was his downfall.  The rulers in his region greatly despised Kesakambali's ways, which were viewed at odds with traditional Hindi religiosity and with the standards of decency at the time.  Warlords landed upon the island, only to be greeted by a phenomenal sight.  Charvaka's still mortal form sat in the position of the Buddha, his spiritual form rising rapidly out of his body until it was naught but a speck of golden light in the sky.  Charvaka's followers reveled--their leaders was unto like that of the Prince, Siddhartha!  With but a word, they were put to the sword, and the overwhelming majority of Charvaka's teachings went up in smoke.

Charvaka, meanwhile, had actually transcended the necessity of a mortal body.  He had become thought made manifest, a creature of pure intellect and will.  For centuries, he travelled the cosmos, learning all he could from the myriad alien races across the the galaxies.  

In truth, he learned only one thing:  disgust.  No matter how he attempted to approach others, no matter how reasonably or intelligently he attempted to bring enlightenment to the races of these worlds, he was greeted almost unequivocally with conflict, war, and death.  While he gained followers, each time they faced the same persecution and lack of understanding as he had seen on Earth.

Over time, Charvaka became bitter.  Tired of losing his friends, tired of failing to bring universal truth to so many, his message has become a darker one.  Those unwilling to accept the universal truths of the universe had no place in it.  Those unwilling to accept reality would be consigned to a place without it.  Charvaka has no stomach for violence himself, but nor does he seek to keep anyone in this universe who would deny his truths, instead casting them into the void outside of space and time.

After years upon years of travel, however, Charvaka has set his eyes upon that place where he once trod as a man.  And when he finds that Ajita Kesakambali is all but a footnote in history?  The Earth will surely face a reckoning...

Villain of the Day:  April 30 (The Living Gate)

Space.  The final frontier.

Even for the hardiest and most adventurous of species, the perils of space travel make charting the cosmos a difficult proposition at best, the dreams of a shrieking madman at worst.  A single faulty hatch, a blown engine gasket, a misfired electrical system could turn a 'routine' mission into a deadly nightmare.  Thousands of souls aboard worldships have died screaming due to naught but a minor mechanical malfunction.  

Add in the prospect of space-faring raiders, power-hungry warlords, and the strangeness that roams the cosmos on its own...

...but what if there were a way to avoid it all?  A method of perfect travel, perhaps, which could circumvent the entire need for a space-faring fleet.

Such a thing exists, in one entity:  The Living Gate.

Once a singular entity, believed to be a consort or kin to the horror known as OblivAeon, The Living Gate drifts in a slow orbit around the ultra-massive black hole at the center of the universe.  Where its body has gone, no one knows; only the disembodied skull remains, its off-white jaws opening and closing in some unheard celestial rhythm.

What lies within those jaws, however, is the stuff of legend.  As The Living Gate opens its maw, a swirling purple vortex forms in the void, emitting a burst of beta radiation visible across the cosmos.  That vortex, if entered, is capable of transporting an individual to any singular point within the cosmos.  Even the most inaccessible places in the multiverse--The Void, the Realm of Discord, the Source of the Host, the ancient Cthonic realms, even that ur-space beyond reality itself--become accessible through The Living Gate. 

Instantaneous travel across the cosmos could be possible...if not for the greed of the living.  While remote and hazardous as it is--the black hole alone would be enough to deter visitors, to say nothing of the quantum horrors that lurk amidst the temporal anomalies that surround the gate itself--The Living Gate is the site of a phenomenal conflagration between countless known worlds, each trying to claim The Living Gate for themselves.  Entire war fleets circle the severed skull, with commanders making and breaking alliances on a near-daily basis.  Of course, any who dare approach The Living Gate itself are destroyed in a fusillade of neutron torpedos and ion cannon blasts.

However, something strange has begun.  The Living Gate, often totally inert, has begun to stir and even move under its own volition.  Could it be that the most coveted passage in the cosmos is on the verge of reconstituting itself?  And, if it does, what does that mean for a cosmos which barely survived one cosmic singular entity?

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With that, we've reached the end of Alien April!  120 Villains down, 245 left to go!

Starting tomorrow, we're on to Mechanical May--full of all things robotic, cybernetic, artificially intelligent, and otherwise techological.  

Whoo, nice finale. I wonder though, do you already have a theme planned for every month? I'm very curious about what J words you've come up with for the following two. Not gonna lie though, I was kinda hoping for a Mutant May cause I have more villains that would fit that category.

Space Travel: the difficult proposition of a raving lunatic at best.

Yeah, yeah...edited for your pleasure.  :P

@VGBM--I don't have a theme planned out for every month yet, but I think I'm going to have to drift away from alliteration by the end of the year.  We'll see, though...

Also, don't feel obliged to stick to my theme.  That's a restriction for myself only; you're welcome to forge your own path as you like!

Welcome to Mechanical May, home of all things technological, cybernetic, automated, and transhuman!

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Villain of the Day:  May 1 (Chopper)

Greg Kohler had quite the run of bad luck.  A drug runner for The Organization in Rook City, he far too often found himself on his superiors' bad side, with threats of concrete shoes and visits to the morgue for dropped shipments and abandoned sales.  No matter where Greg seemed to turn, the heroes of Dark Watch seemed to be on his tail, leading to exponentially greater consternation for both himself and The Chairman's lackeys.

Things couldn't get worse.  Until they did.

In charge of moving a heroin shipment through a Rook City warehouse, Greg found his operation raided, yet again, by Dark Watch.  Threatened yet again by his employer, Greg drew a pistol.  His underlings pleaded with him to make a break for it, but Greg was incensed--he wasn't going to lose another shipment.  He wasn't going to lose again.

That's when Mister Fixer--still the bitter, undead soul inhabiting the martial artist's corpse--shattered his arms.  Greg managed to pull the trigger twice, both to no avail, as Fixer released a Vibrating Palm strike just above Greg's right elbow, shattering his radius and ulna into fourteen discrete pieces.  As Greg howled in agony (and as Setback dashed forward to hold back his irate comrade), Fixer unleashed a fearsome Howling Lemur Roundhouse towards Greg's head; reflexively, Kohler tried to block with his only good arm, only for Fixer's kick shearing his arm in a horrifying compound fracture.

As the remaining drug runners fled and Dark Watch beat a hasty retreat, talking down Fixer all the while, Greg blacked out, his blood pooling on the concrete floor.

He awoke in a hospital bed, though Greg was sure he was in no hospital.  Looking down, his arms were gone.  In their place were a set of sleek silver steel prosthetics, which he flexed tentatively.  A smirking blonde man, clad in bloodstained surgical garb, smiled towards Greg, "Sadly, there was little we could do to save the originals.  I think you'll find these will provide a much better alternative anyway."  The man moved closer, the dim light glinting off eyes that could only made of some metallic bronze.

Within days, Greg had learned that his new arms were no mere prosthetics.  Rather, their cybernetics provided him a phenomenal degree of strength and manual dexterity...and a series of deadly weapons.  With but a thought, Greg could project four ultra-sharp blades from the forearms of each of Greg's cybernetics, which whirled with intense speed, not unlike the blades of a helicopter.  The blades themselves were made from a ceramic nano-fluid allowing for a sharpness akin to that of obsidian, which itself is capable of fracturing down to a single molecule.  The servo motors within his arms were able to maintain a rotation speed of over 700 rotations per minute, allowing him to rise from the ground not unlike a helicopter.

Taking on the name Chopper, Greg struck out on his own, disrupting armored car shipments, chemicals firms, and new technologies companies.  While most of his crimes seem to target either liquid assets or those that would easily be sold on the black market, Chopper was recently sighted scoping out the Megalopolis facilities of Blackstock-McCalley Aeronautics.  What he could be seeking out there (and why) is still to be determined...

Is that an intentional reference to Nick Chopper, the Tin Woodsman from The Wizard of Oz?

Nope.  Was meant to be more of a pun on 'helicopter', considering that's Greg's jam.

Villain of the Day:  May 2 (EMS Express)

It's been hailed as one of the greatest advances in medical technology.  It's been railed against as a direct attack upon the heroes of every disaster.  In the end, the tool currently called EMS Express sits as the pinnacle of drone technology in Megalopolis.

A joint creation between the Department of Health and Human Services, Nautilus Industries, and Aldred Industries, the first waves of EMS Express drones were created to deal with the massive clean-up and recovery efforts following the OblivAeon crisis, particularly in cities like Rook City and San Alonzo.  Most often appearing as a sort of aerodynamic coffin, EMS Express drones were expressly designed to replace search-and-rescue crews and paramedics, featuring a number of robotic arms with attachments meant for extraction and careful manipulation, a number of scanners and medical devices (including autoinjectors and other similar equipment), a carbon nanofiber chassis with micro-repulsor VTOL engines, and an AI capable of discrete, analytical thinking.  In an ideal circumstance, an EMS Express drone could scan the wreckage of a collapsed building, identify and extract survivors, restrain survivors into itself, and fly to the nearest hospital or rendezvous site within a matter of minutes.

While the first few missions for EMS Express were unequivocal successes, backlash immediately came from the unions for paramedics and firefighters.  In addition to what was seen as an attack on their livelihood, first responders on site claimed that the EMS Express drones often got in the way of human rescue efforts and interfered with buildings' structural integrity, making it even more dangerous to enter given buildings.  Nautilus president Eliot Marklund has been quick to counter with the number of lives saved by the EMS Express drones, though controversy continues to rage throughout Megalopolis over their efficacy, their vulnerabilities, and the potential security risk for patients both in terms of their well-being and their health records and genetic information.

Perhaps the greatest point of controversy for the EMS Express drones came during the failed rescue of one Davonte Wallace.  EMS Express drones were dispatched to aid with a fire at a major apartment complex in Megalopolis, in which structural damage had made the building dangerous for firefighters.  An EMS Express drone located Wallace in his 8th floor apartment, pinned under some debris, and moved to intercept and extract the young man.  When the drone landed at nearby St. Ignatius Memorial Hospital, Wallace was already dead.  City medical examiners began investigating Wallace's death when chemical analysis noted a lethal level of opiates in his bloodstream.  While Nautilus and the HHS have done their best to keep a lid on this controversy, leaked video from the EMS Express drone expressly shows Wallace alive and protesting as the drone's mechanical arms desposited him inside itself and latching an autoinjector around his upper arm...

Villain of the Day:  May 3 (Fortress)

The US government's Bunker project has been the single most successful armored-suit program throughout the world.  It's provided the template for at least a dozen other world government's similar programs, most notably Israel's Project Jericho suits.  

The armored villain known as Fortress, however?  Something else entirely.

None know Fortress' true identity.  Their enmity towards Bunker and his derivatives, though, cannot be understated.  Fortress appears to be wearing a salvaged version of the Bunker armor; Tyler Vance has identified the chassis as a modified version of the 6.0.2c suit, which was believed destroyed in the attack on the Freedom Five's headquarters during the Vengeance incursion.  While not every piece of Bunker technology were discovered, the ruins that were found from the 6.0.2c suit seemed to indicate over a 96% loss.  Regardless, Fortress seems to have that very chassis.

However, the operator of Fortress has made a number of substantial upgrades to the armor, mainly made up of other salvaged weaponry.  Fortress has used weaponry including a shoulder-mounted Disintegration beam (presumably taken from an Omnitron drone), a number of flechette launchers (last seen in the hands of Desert Eagle during his days with the Slaughterhouse Six), an electricity field generator (based on a Baron Blade design), as well as a beam cannon similar to Time-Slinger's Masadah.  In all cases, these weaponry appear as if they were taken wholesale from their respective 'donors', but the items held by Fortress seem to show no wear and tear, no ill effects, and no misuse.  It's as if they were taken while brand new.

Omnitron-X, however, posits a different theory.  Initial scans on Fortress seem to show some degree of chronal energy emanating from Fortress, as if the armor itself had some degree of time travel ability, though in practice, Fortress has never exhibited any ability in that regard.  As for the mystery of who's within the armor?  Still undiscovered...

Okay, that's cool. :D A pretty classic style villain with just a bit of a twist!

Villain of the Day:  May 4 (Lacquer)

Baron Blade's numerous experiments under the guise of Revocorp had a notoriously low survival rate.  The mad baron's continual quest to unlock the genetic potential of humanity (and use it finally defeat that cursed Legacy) came at the cost of hundreds, if not thousands, of lives.  

Roxanna Hernandez was not one of those.  A high school dropout, she spiraled into a series of increasingly-violent crimes, resulting in her incarceration.  After shivving a fellow inmate at Stanton Penitentiary, Roxanna was found guilty and placed on death row...that was when a Revocorp representative came calling.  Offering her the 'standard' Revocorp deal, the representative filed Roxanna under an experimental nanite group and went on his merry way.

Over the next few months, Roxanna was subject to countless experiments, intending to perfect the blood-borne nanite robots so oft used by Baron Blade to heal and regenerate during the heat of combat.  An implant was placed at the base of Roxanna's skull, allowing her to control and dispatch the nanites, moving them throughout her body.  Despite the agony of continual invasive surgery, Roxanna found herself becoming something new completely.

Under most circumstances, the nanites under Roxanna's control act as simple bio-regenerative creations, repairing damaged cell structure and providing her a phenomenal degree of healing.  However, Roxanna's control of the nanites is so minute and finite that she can use them to a much greater degree. When first encountered by Daybreak, Legacy (Pauline) noted that Roxanna's first action upon seeing the heroes was, quite literally, to stab herself in the stomach.  As she did so, blood flowing freely from a seemingly-lethal gut wound, the nanites bonded within the micronic iron in Roxanna's blood, forming an ultra-hard, nigh-impervious Lacquer over her full body.  Roxanna, while so armored, exhibits enhanced strength, incredibly durability, and the ability to create appendages from the lacquer, providing her additional limbs, tentacles, or other features as she so desires.

Since escaping from the Revocorp facility--during the OblivAeon event, naturally--Lacquer has used her newfound abilities to their full effect.  Roxanna has taken control of her old gang, turning their operations from simple snatch-and-grabs and chop-shops to active, targeted heists.  Her primary target, of course?  Revocorp plants, capable of producing the same nanites as the ones that inhabit her bloodstream.

Awesome concept. Are you picturing her blood armor as deep red, or something else?

I picture almost like a rust red, since her armor is effectively a shell of blood, nanites, and microscopic iron being exposed to air.

Villain of the Day:  May 5  (HaXXor)

Dwayne Montgomery was a troll.  The stereotypical overweight, neck-bearded, pasty nerd, Dwayne had just gotten banned from his favorite internet forum and hoped to blow off some steam killing some noobs in his favorite online MMO.  His day job of server maintenence never seemed to be enough digital prescence for him; as soon as he was back home, Dwayne was back behind a screen.  Even in the midst of the Deadline event, Dwayne sat at his computer, cursing the omnipresent lag and optimizing his trickster-warlock for higher DPS.

However, something strange happened that day.  As Dwayne stared at his screen, debating between his off-hand weapon options, his screen began to flicker and pulsate with twisting purple light.  Cursing all the while, Dwayne stood up to unplug his monitor, though he never made it that far.  Flaring with that strange energy, the monitor opened into a static-filled portal, pulling Dwayne in bodily.

After some time, Dwayne awoke in quite the strange place.  Bits of light flickered past him in a static-gray background.  He floated there, as if swimming in warm pool of salt water, disbelieving his situation entirely.  That was when he realized:  not only was he no longer in the real world; he was in the Internet itself.  

Within days, Dwayne had managed to use his knowledge of system infrastructure to master his new environs.  He could travel through even the most secure sites with ease, slipping through firewalls and secured accounts with the ease of a practiced gem thief.  Money from hundreds of hedge funds, retirement IRAs, and countless other accounts started disappearing as Dwayne, now calling himself HaXXor, shunted those funds through the labyrinthine pathways of the internet into a fund of his own.

HaXXor did find that he could re-emerge into the real world, though he was only able to stay there for a short time, about two hours.  Further, he no longer appeared as human; rather, he appears as a static-y outline of a person, holding the same shape as himself, as a being of flickering, buzzing energy.  

Only one group claims to have actively confronted HaXXor, the Sentinels of Freedom-trained group now calling themselves The Liberators.  Mister E, the group's tactician and investigator, was bodily sucked into the internet, captured by HaXXor.  His compatriots, Miss Marble, the Hemogoblin, and Scalpel, had to send their consciousness into the digital ether to confront HaXXor within the depths of his favorite game...a place in which HaXXor himself was able to control the very landscape, summoning orcs and goblins to thwart the group, to say nothing of his lightning-spewing dragon, his lethal traps, and his monolithic fortress.

Check out Dexter Douglas
Nerd computer ace
Went surfing on the Internet
And got zapped to cyberspace!

:)

Villain of the Day:  May 6 (Cyclona)

Meteorologist Connie Van Buren just couldn't take it anymore.  

A long-standing weather expert for Megalopolis' WKXB news ("Know More!  Watch Channel 4!"), Connie watched her doctorate going to waste. She had spent years studying the cyclonic energy of tornadoes and microbursts, only to be trotted out like some airheaded bimbo night after night.  When the WKXB station manager suggested wearing something a little more revealing--"you know, just to up the 11pm ratings"--she smashed the side of his head with a nearby boom mike and started stomping on his head, giving him a concussion and two major skull fractures.

While placed on "administrative leave" by her network, Connie dusted off an old project that she had tinkered with during her post-graduate work.  One of her mentors--Dr. Yukio Takeshi of the University of Oklahoma--had long posited that reverse cyclonic energy could be used to dissipate tornadoes and the like, even as they started.  By providing a retrograde force to the funnel itself, the differences in air pressure would equalize, destroying the tornado.

Connie, however, had other ideas.  And, with a little outside investment and manpower from a contact at Haephestus Labs, she now had the equipment she needed.

Connie's first appearance as Cyclona came at a WKXB "Jam the Bus!" back-to-school event.  Nearly every ancho for WKXB was there, covering the annual donation event, as patrons brought school supplies for needy students at the start of the academic year.  Cyclona burst onto the scene in a blue-and-grey costume and her new cyclonic gauntlets, lifted the bus with ease, and smashed it down onto the WKXB news van.  Evening anchor Jim Reynolds was sent hurtling into the side of the nearby Broadmoor Elementary School, while Connie's replacement, Ariel Mackenzie, was found flung four blocks away, splattered against a support pillar for the Megalopolis Monorail.

Since that day, Cyclona has made several appearances, often raiding high-tech meteorological firms for new equipment or to simply wreak havoc on her former employers.  What she does with this equipment is yet unknown, though some have posited that cyclonic gauntlets will soon be paired with something even deadlier.

I like how we're back to seriously classic comic book villains now. :D

Great comics pull villains of all genres.  
But yeah, after March dealt with more magic/arcane/horror threats and April was spent traversing the cosmos, it's nice to be back on Earth for a while.

Villain of the Day:  May 7  (Shiver)

When Shiver first arrived on the superheroic scene, he barely made any waves.  He killed no hostages, vanquished no heroes, and succeeded on no major heists.  Much of his work has come in service to other villains, often serving as hired muscle or as a metahuman 'specialist', designed to keep metahuman heroes busy while his compatriots perform the actual heist.  He's been caught no less than 4 times, his true identity as Jerry Kobler revealed for all to know.

What the real question is, though...how did Jerry Kobler get hold of the original Absolute Zero's cold gun designs?

Henry Goodman's original designs for the Negathermo Projector Carbine have been classified as state secrets since World War II.  While many of the scientific records that came from Goodman's laboratory have been redacted and released via the Freedom of Information Act, the design specificiations of the Negathermo device (as well as any number of other device replicating a metahuman ability) have been kept from the public eye, particularly after the use of such devices on a military scale has been declared a war crime, per the Geneva Conventions.

Every time that Shiver has been apprehended, his Negathermo device has been confiscated by government authorities.  However, each time he is freed, Shiver reappears with yet another Negathermo device.  He has been interrogated numerous times by police, the FBI, and numerous other governmental bodies, though none have been able to get the truth from him.  In fact, Jerry has been known to send these investigators on seeming wild-goose chases, looking for non-existent TALOS bunkers in the American Southwest, chasing face-changing foreign spies across Germany, or launching full (and spectacularly unpopular) investigations into Marklund Industries.  No one has ever managed to get the truth from him.

Further, with such secrets at his disposal, some have begun to question as to why Shiver hasnt' moved on to any larger aims.  Jerry seems quite content to serve as a powered enforcer for other criminals, rather than branching out onto schemes of his own.  And, for that matter, what other schematics does Shiver have access to?  

That's fascinating. o.o What could he know?

The Omni-Collector

When the first iteration of Omnitron was destroyed on the Wagner mars base, groups such as the Freedom Five, Revocorp, and the Wagner scientists all made attempts to recover as much of what was left as they could for research purposes. So, because no one could see all of the parts together, no one ever noticed that a few of those bigger pieces were never recovered, nor were they still on Mars.

At the destruction of Omnition-II, the Freedom Five didn't take any chances, so they made sure to collect and dispose of every single piece they could find. During this, Legacy thought he some something move out of the corner of his eye, and responded by doing a quick search of the area. After not finding anything, and because his danger sense never went off, he just shrugged it off and went back to work, not realizing that the big pile of Cosmic Omnitron parts was now slightly smaller.

After the Vengeance event, the broken and defeated Omni-Blade was left behind in an industrial area. When their programming assimilated into the nearby factory, a new threat had emerged. The heroes were so preoccupied with this latest version of Omnitron that no one stopped to wonder where the Omni-Blade body had gone.

The first clue that something was up was noticed by Unity. When she returned to the factory to gather the pieces of Omnitron-X, she was certain she could rebuild all of them, but no matter how hard she looked, even well past where the pieces could have reasonably flown off to, she just couldn't find all of it, and had no choice but to replace some parts with her usual flair. Of course, even still, no one would have noticed that parts of the building's Partial Omni-Drone were missing as well.

Surprisingly, Omnitron-U made it through the entire OblivAeon event without once getting destroyed and having to rebuild themself. That's not to say they made it out without a scratch, but none of the damage was too serious, and it looked like they would remain Omnitron-U for the forseeable future.

That had to be fixed.

Omnitron never saw the attacker, not only were they still damaged from OblivAeon, but whoever it was seemed to know all of their blindspots. They disappeared as quickly as they came, but not without what they were after. Now much more severely damaged, and missing many of their pinker parts, Omnitron-U was forced to take time off to properly rebuild.

Someone, or something, has been collecting parts from every iteration of Omnitron. Nobody knows why they're doing this, or to what end. In fact, most still aren't aware of their existance. But they will soon, for the Omni-Collector is growing impatient, and now that the newest version of Omnitron is out and about, who knows how much time this one has before they, too, are added to the collection.

Villain of the Day:  May 8 (TrikeStrike)

Jack Catheti knew that his invention would change the face of warfare forever.  That is, until his best shot at a major military conflict turned into the laughing stock of the arms industry.

Once a mechanical engineer with Blackstock-McCalley, Jack left his six-figure design job for the opportunity to act as a freelance consultant for the US Army under General Armstrong.  Jack's commission was simple:  come up with a battlefield-capable infantry vehicle capable of quick response and a suitable arms load out for active battlefield combat.  

For months, Jack slaved over the design.  A motorcycle was too imbalanced and required too much of the rider's focus.  A quad-ATV had too high of a center of gravity, leading to rollover in a number of environments.  A trike, however?  Optimized for stability and ease of piloting, a trike seemed the obvious solution.  Further, the larger chassis allowed for a greater weapons-loadout than a motorcycle, while avoiding the drawbacks of the quad-ATV.

Jack's job turned to obsession, which turned to mania.  He became fixated on turning the trike into the perfect weapon of war, adding carbon-fiber armor plating, retractible wheel spikes, pulsar cannons, an ionic mine dispenser, a sub-sonic afterburner, and other designs known only to himself.

The day of his presentation to the military brought butterflies to Jack's stomach.  As he waited for General Armstrong and the other military attaches to arrive, his breakfast twisted in his gullet.  A convoy of humvees pulled up to the test field, and the officials within almost immediately burst into laughter.  Catheti's life's work was nothing short of an absurd monstrosity, more suited to a Rube Goldberg contest than the modern battlefield.  As the officials approached, Jack could hear their stifled laughter and crass comments.

Jack saw red.  Clenching his jaw, he never even managed to say a word to the general.  He pushed his test pilot out of the driver's seat, revved the engine, and charged up the pulsar cannons.  Two of the humvees exploded in a shower of scrap metal and flames as Catheti's trike roared past the officials and off into the night.

Since then, TrikeStrike, as Jack has been calling himself, has waged a one-man war on the United States military.  The indignities he suffered could not stand; the world surely must recognize his greatness!  While out of his vehicle he might only be a mortal man, within his custom trike, he could make the nation tremble!

I like this guy, he's silly. :D

See, I can do Silver age wacky, too! I’m not always Mr. Grim-and-Gritty…

It turns out all those military officials were just remembering a funny joke as they pulled up...

Villain of the Day:  May 9  (Cherenkov)

Alexis Garber knew what she signed up for.  She just wasn't prepared to turn it into a career path.

Once a human resources rep at the Davis-Besse Nuclear Power Plant, Alexis and her family were in dire straits.  Her husband had abandoned the family, leaving her to raise three school-age kids on her own.  Her youngest, Marie, suffered from a number of kidney-related issues, driving Alexis deep into debt.  She short-saled the family home, cramming the four of them into a two-bedroom apartment in a less-than-pleasant side of town.  While her job paid decently and provided them reasonable health insurance, it just wasn't enough to keep Alexis' head above water.

So, when a man in a suit knocked on her apartment door and offered her $50,000, Alexis wasn't about to ask questions.  All he wanted was her keycard.

Taking on overtime to make ends meet, it was pure chance that Alexis happened to be working that evening when the suited-man and a compatriot arrived, carrying a number of pieces of strange technical equipment.  Among their number was a burly, bald man with a surly countenance.  Alexis smiled to her contact as he sidled past, heading for Reactor Room 3.

Following at a distance, Alexis watched the suited man inject the burly one with a number of strange injections, before opening the main access door to the reactor itself.  Horrified, she watched as he dove into the submerged reactor, with nary a clean-suit or radiation dampner in sight!

He died, screaming.  The raw power emitted by the reactor coupled with the superheated water boiled him almost immediately.

Grimacing, the suited man turned to beat a hasty retreat, only to come face to face with Alexis.  "You're trying to make a superhuman," she said, "Try me."

The suited man cocked his head and looked her over.  Nodding slowly, he injected her with a glowing blue serum and instructed her, "Now...three minutes in the reactor core.  If the serum works, your body will absorb the ambient Cherenkov radiation, turning you into a dynamo of nuclear power..."

Alexis Garber emerged from that reactor chamber with a power she had never imagined.  Glowing with a soft blue light, she swiftly found that she could project beams of searing radiation, radiate a force field of heat and energy, and survive in even the harshest of conditions.

Despite it all, she kept her job.  "Had to keep a cover, right?" she thought.  Her kids are none the wiser, though they certainly enjoy their more comfortable life, their video games, and their new house.  However, every so often, the suited man returns to her house with another bundle of money and a job to do.  A job that requires her new, unique talents...

Villain of the Day:  May 10 (Wrong Number)

Allen Strahler had simply had enough. 

A long-time telemarketer who had worked his way up through the ranks at General Dynamic Insurance, Allen supervised an entire group of cold-call agents, offering great life insurance coverage for just pennies a day to literally thousands of individuals a day.  Unfortunately, as their direct supervisor, Allen was often on the receiving end of the cursing, the angry hang-ups, and the other abuse that tends to flow towards cold-callers.

After one such call, Allen snapped.  After verbally berating a would-be customer for over four minutes straight--all of which was recorded for customer service training--Allen simply could not take anymore.  He was placed on administrative leave, pending a lengthy meeting with human resources, who advocated that he use up some of his numerous vacation days.

Now, Allen had something of a hobby in his meanwhile.  An aficianado of ASMR videos and podcasts--"They help me sleep," Allen claimed--Allen had begun to experiment with these elements to induce low-grade trances and to relax.  However, he believed that he could turn these to a new purpose...

After meeting with HR, Allen was given his job back. This was his first offense, after all.  He returned to his team with a spring in his step and a smile on his face, eager to get back to calling the unsuspecting rubes of America.  And, little did either HR nor his co-workers know, but Allen had planted a new autorecording into the initial script of the General Dynamic background music...

Since the day of his outburst, Allen and his team have broken countless sales records for General Dynamic, bringing in thousands of new accounts and millions of dollars in revenue.  He's since been farmed out to various General Dynamic locations throughout the country, to share his secrets to other branches.  Each time, he brings in his ASMR script and brings a whole new team into the fold.  

As for what that trance-induced programming actually does, or what will happen when it is activated?  Those are secrets that only Allen knows.  Just make sure that you don't call the Wrong Number...

Amazing. :D That's truly outside the usual bounds of what constitutes a supervillain, and it's perfect!

Villain of the Day:  May 11 (Strut)

Jenna McCannon loved running.  A track star through high school and college, Jenna always felt most at home in a pair of well-worn running shoes and her headphones blaring some empowering music.  

That came to an end when she was hit by a car.

While on her usual after-work run, Jenna legally crossed Wenger Avenue, only for a car to screech through the red light, slamming into her.  The driver of the car immediately called for an ambulance, but the damage was already done.  Her lower legs were shattered, the ligaments in her knees shredded.  Howling in pain on the asphalt, Jenna was sure that her life was over.

Waking up in a hospital room, post-surgery, Jenna was despondent.  Not only was she horrifically injured, but her ability to run--something so intrinsic to her identity--was stripped from her.  Her doctors informed her that she'd be bound to a wheelchair for the rest of her life.  She bit back, asking about the possibility of physical therapy, experimental surgery, and more.  Her doctor merely shook his head; the chance of success was simply too low to risk another procedure, and her recovery already mandated physical therapy.  Additional therapy would do little.

Still in shock and rage at her lot in life, Jenna was hardly in the mood to see any visitors, much less some jerk in a suit she didn't know.  However, that suited jerk made her an offer that she never would have expected.

Upon her release from the hospital, Jenna was taken to a strange facility where she underwent an even stranger procedure.  A number of cybernetic sockets were embedded in her leg joints, as well as a control chip at the base of her spine.  After recovering from the procedure, Jenna was provided with a mechanical framework that provided her the stability she needed to stand, to walk, and even to run.

What's more?  The framework made her better.  She could run faster than ever before, her senses matching her pace, thanks to the neural implant in her spine.  She knew real speed.  And, all the suited stranger asked in return was some assistance in a few odd jobs now and again.  She'd even have a costume, a kinetic flail to defend herself, the best of tools for infiltration, and even a team to work with...

Since that day, Jenna has learned the hard way that her framework is a temporary measure at best.  Its use is taxing on her nervous system, which requires a neuroregenerative serum which arrives in her mail every week.  Jenna does attempt to limit the amount of time she uses the framework, but every day she spends in her wheelchair is another day she yearns to hook up the framework and break free.  Another day where all she wants to do is Strut.  

Once again, we've got a shadowy figure setting things in motion... I'm all a-twitter. :D

Villain of the Day:  May 12 (REDWYRM)

Alvin Thurlock probably would have stayed a white hat, if he knew how to set his damned alarm clock.

A cybersecurity expert with the TechSpace technology firm, Alvin spent his days developing countermeasures for computer viruses and testing online security for various firms.  Among the top 'white hat' hackers at TechSpace, Alvin's code was a thing of beauty and he was a pleasure to work with.  Al, as his coworkers called him, was the captain of the company's indoor volleyball team and his eggnog was renowned at the company's holiday party.

That said, he often had issues waking up on time.  His mortal nemesis--some pencil-pusher named Greg, over in human resources--seemed to make it his life's work to chart every minute of every day that Alvin was late to work or had to clock out early.  At his yearly review, Greg brought this to Alvin's (and Alvin's boss's) attention:  no less than 86 days at least 5 minutes late to work, another 46 days wherein Alvin left early.  Greg recommended Alvin for immediate dismissal.

Alvin was livid.  He stood up, his fists clenched, ready to smash Greg right across his stupid plastic-framed glasses.  Alvin's boss intervened between the two, taking Alvin outside.  He shook his head, "Al...this can't be right, can it?"  Within the hour, Alvin Thurlock had packed up his office, turned in his keycard, and was being escorted out by security.

Now, Alvin knew his talents.  He knew he'd have another job soon enough; there were enough tech firms out there who wouldn't mind a few minutes tardiness if it meant having a cogent firewall program.  But that meddler, Greg?  Alvin had something special for him.

The REDWYRM virus was something Alvin had been cooking up in his spare time, off and on, for nearly a decade.  Designed to be a "whaling" malware--designed to target those in the highest eschelons of the financial world--REDWYRM was no mere hardware corruption.  Rather, it was designed to rewrite both the computer's programming...and the user's synapses.  Even as REDWYRM stole confidential information, passwords, bank account numbers and more, it simultaneously left anone observing it (or attempting to actively de-fang the virus) in a drooling stupor, unable to do anything but watch the little red caterpillar devour all of their most sensitive information.

Unfortunately for Alvin, he was REDWYRM's second victim.  After sending the virus after HR Greg, Alvin attempted to copy the virus onto another drive, so that he could physically install it elsewhere and make some quick cash.  However, a mis-click on the wrong window left him collapsed in his computer chair for nearly 6 days.  Greg, however, didn't make it that long.  He died at his desk of dehydration...

Since that day REDWYRM has wormed its way through the web, but no manner of anti-virus, anti-malware, or skill in programming has managed to vanquish it.  And, in over 85% of cases, REDWYRM has led directly to the death of its end users.  Were someone to get their hands on the source code for such a virus, it may well become a lethal assassination tool in any villain's arsenal.

Hey, gang.  I know that this thread is getting really long, so I decided to take on a fairly large undertaking:  I've put together every villain in this thread into a Google spreadsheet, so that individual villains are easier to find.  The villains are separated by my own creations (which are then sorted by month/theme) and those of others.  Within each sheet, you'll be able to see the exact post number as well as a one-sentence summary of what that villain's "schtick" is.

The link for the Villain of the Day Index is HERE.  I'm also adding it to the very first post!

Woot!

Also, that first sentence is a fantastic hook. :D

Villain of the Day: May 13 (White Noise)

Erol Mackintosh is the sort of person most sane people wish would just shut up.

A white nationalist, Erol grew up in the deep South. His family were all members of his regions branch of the Klan and, when push came to shove, he often found himself working behind the scenes at various rallies, demonstrations, and revivals. A sound engineer by trade, Erol was used to hooking up speakers, testing amplifiers, and running wires for microphones. But, with all that under his belt, he wanted to do more.

Erol stated working on the Sonic Amplifier harness in his basement as a lark. Occasionally, at various get togethers where firearms were involved, he’d pull it out to show everyone what some White Noise could do, over and above the standard AR-15. More than once, state troopers came out to Erol’s property when neighbours complained of the noise, but beyond a fine and a slap on the wrist, there was little they could do.

That was when Erol received a curious package. Inside was a copy of the schematics for his harness, as well as a strange electronic component, along with inductions as to where and how to install it. Upon doing so, Erol quickly found that his harness could do so much more! It could completely dampen or nullify vibrations, making the wearer completely silent. Or, it could focus sound into a single, laser like beam, capable of destruction far beyond what he was able to achieve without it.

At the bottom of the package was a note, written in a neat cursive hand: “Let 'em have it with both barrels…We will be back!”

This is actually the second white supremacist villain named White Noise I have ever seen. XD Thankfully, different power set.

Was the other one the guy from The Venture Brothers?  I remembered him about an hour after finishing my VotD write-up…

Villain of the Day:  May 14 (Witch Hunter Helmut)

Helmut Schneider has no patience for so-called 'wizards'.  To date, he has never not found a logical, scientific explanation to any strange or unseemly phenomena.

A mechanical prodigy by day, Helmut comes from a long line of 'witch-hunters', dating back to the days of the Holy Roman Empire.  In those dark days, his progenitors were tasked by Louis III--known as Louis the Blind--to seek out those believed to be wizards, warlocks, witches, or other practictioners of the dark arts.  And, while his family has performed this task for nearly 1400 years (in various degrees of zealotry), Helmut himself decided to take on a new venue for this holy task.

He started a reality show.

His show, entitled Witch Hunter Helmut chronicles his experiences travelling the globe with all manner of sophisticiated sensor equipment, a crew of trained videographers and sound experts, and a legion of 'haunted' locales, houses and resgions.  In each case, he actively debunks so-called supernatural activity--often taking a 'true believer' with him, who inevitably ends up convinced that, yes, their fears were irrational and that no actual supernatural activity had taken place.

In his latest season, Helmut has brought his technology and his fan-base to bear against the supernaturally-powered metahuman community.  Helmut, through his network, has offered a $500,000 US prize to any arcanely-powered individual to come onto his show and have their abilities tested on camera for all to see.  If his tests fail, Helmut claims, he'll not only pay out the $500k, but also end his show with that very episode.  If he, however, demonstrates that those powers are not from a mystical source, he contractually demands the individual to reveal this information live, on-camera.   To date, not a single mystically-powered individual has taken up Helmut's challenge.

Going into his fifth season, Helmut has a number of unique spots picked out for his show, not the least of which are a swamp just south of Rook City and a temple hidden in the lower Himalayas...

”All right, heroes, your mission, should you choose to accept it: keep this dumbass TV guy alive this season.”

Witch Hunter Helmut in the Temple of Zhu Long sounds like a comic from one of the worst runs of SC history that everyone tries to pretend never happened.  Makes absolutely no sense that he'd be allowed to get there and film an episode, and yet I can definitely see bad comic writers do it anyway.

Yup! So you're in good company.

Also, a villain with a reality show, you never fail to explore new realms of comic book potential.

Villain of the Day:  May 15 (Dr. Sheila Dawsey and The Cyber Six)

Dr. Sheila Dawsey started, as most do, with the best of intentions.  

A robotics expert and co-worker of Meredith Stinson's at the Eaken-Rubendall Laboratories, Dawsey was one of Tachyon's biggest supporters throughout her career, first as a women in the technology field, then as a leading female superhero, then as an icon for LGBT rights.  Even as Tachyon became wrapped up in saving the world on a regular basis, Dawsey still made sure to drop her peer an email now and again to check in and compare research notes.  On the rare occasions when Meredith wasn't jetting off for Mars, running rings around gladiators in the Bloodsworn Coliseum, or hunting vampires across Eastern Europe, she'd do her best to drop in for a cup of coffee with Sheila to catch up on all the buzz back at E-R Labs.  However, as the world faced crisis after crisis, their coffee klatches became less and less frequent.

That led to an idea from Sheila:  a set of androids based on the Freedom Five, plus their new intern, capable of standing in for the members while they were injured, off-world, or otherwise outside of Megalopolis.  Dawsey had the full sanction of the Freedom Five, the US Government, and numerous other international bodies.  And, for about four months, the program worked like a charm.  The androids' artificial intelligence were based on that of the originals, with near identical (if mechanically based) power-set loadouts and a state of the art synthetic skin.  To a casual glance, you'd never be able to tell the difference between Legacy and his robotic duplicate.  The androids stood it at major functions, acted as Wraith when the masked crimefighter shattered her left elbow, and even provided crowd control during the Deadline event.

Then, they disappeared.

Inquests were called immediately. Dawsey was called before a the Senate Appropriations sub-committe, where she was grilled for 3 days by Senator Daniel Ellison.  The Freedom Five themselves were subpoenaed, testifying as to their involvement in the project.  After the third day of hearings, Sheila tried to apologize to Meredith, but the World's Quickest Woman had no patience for platitudes at this point; she merely shook her head at Dawsey and sped off towards home.

Two days later, Dr. Sheila Dawsey vanished.  Her apartment was left untouched; no items were missing and her luggage remained in her hall closet.  

That was four years ago.  And in that time, no manner of science or sorcery has managed to locate Sheila Dawsey or The Cyber Six anywhere on Earth or in near-space.  The only clue remains is footage from a single security camera of Absolute Zero and Dr. Dawsey breaking into an Eaken-Rubendall waste storage facility three months ago.  Why?  No one seems to yet know...

Villain of the Day:  May 16 (Ulcer)

Dr. Matthias Erimond was a noted nuclear physics expert at the top of his field in cold fusion.  A jovial fellow, he was noted for his love of bicycling ("I love that feel of coasting down Jerald's Hill through campus."), his inability to keep a smart phone for more than six months at a time ("It just slipped out of my hand...again.), and his awful puns during staff meetings ("...and the bartender tells the neutron, 'For you, no charge!').  His death of a sudden heart attack at age 44 was more than a little shocking, as such, to both his family and his comrades. 

More shocking, though?  What the medical examiners found during the autopsy.  Dr. Erimond's heart was shredded from the inside-out, as if something had literally crawled inside him and started hacking away at the interior of his heart with a kitchen knife.

Which, of course, is exactly what the assassin known as Ulcer did.  

Utilizing a hither-to unknown shrinking technology, Ulcer serves as one of the world's top-tier assassins, rarely taking on a job for less than $1m US, often charging astronomical rates.  As such, only the most elite, most wealthy, or most well-connected clients ever contact him.  Fewer still ever contract with him, leaving Ulcer's appearances rare and often unconnected by law enforcement.  GLOBAL has identified at least three other victims matching the death of Dr. Erimond:  Michael Hale (a left-wing lobbyist in New York City), Zoe Dagleish (the editor-in-chief of the Sydney AZ Times-Gazette), and Doreen Naumann (a German virologist).  In all cases, the victim was pronounced dead of acute heart failure and, upon their autopsy, were found to have their heart mangled from the inside.

Ulcer has been known to track his quarry for over three months prior to striking, learning their lifestyle patterns, favored locations, and daily routines by heart.  When the time comes to strike, he activates a molecule-condensing armband to shrink down to microscopic levels before infiltrating his victim's body, typically through food or drink or through an open wound.  He then travels through the circulatory system until reaching the heart, whereupon he anchors himself in the left ventricle, increases slightly in size, and then begins hacking away with a nano-edge obsidian blade.  Once the victim is dead, Ulcer then beats a hasty escape, only uncompressing his molecular pattern once he's well away from the crime scene.

Ulcer has no known affiliations, nor is his true identity known.  However, the high profile of his targets suggest that some greater entity--perhaps TALOS, The Annihilationists, or a governmental entity--might be funding his work.  Were someone to finally track down the microscopic killer, they may be able to trace his payment all the way back to the darkest dealings of the criminal underworld.

Villain of the Day:  May 17 (Hydragyrum)

The being that refers to itself as Hydragyrum may have been human once, though every known appearance of the creature seems to have every indication to the contrary.

Discovered in the ruins of Fort Adamant by excavators after the fort was destroyed during the OblivAeon crisis, Hydragyrum was first spotted as a mobile pool of silvery goo that seemed to chase after various recovery workers.  One such worker, Ben Lamani, wasn't quite fast enough to get away, as an extruded pseudopod wrapped around his ankle, shattering it effortlessly in a gruesome compound fracture.  However, as Ben's blood flowed into the pool, it did something most unexpected:  It stood up.

Before security and military forces could respond to Ben's screaming, though, Hydragyrum had utterly disappeared, flowing through some crack or fissure in the ruined base.  Fearing that Progeny had made its return--a possibility that was roundly dismissed upon further inspection--a full battalion of troops were mobilized, only to find an unconscious Ben Lamani in a pool of blood.

Numerous studies were run on Ben during his ensuing hospital stay, with analysis providing some degree of answers.  Residual Hydragyrum tissue found in Ben's blood stream seems to indicate that the creature is something of a cross between a biologically-engineered protoplasm similar to human stem cell tissue and a nanite array with a structure reminiscent of Omnitron's assault drones.  Ben himself seemed unharmed--the residual tissue was located and removed with little difficulty--and he was able to make a full recovery.

Three weeks later, he disappeared.

Several investigative bodies including the Sentinels of Freedom have begun a manhunt for Ben Lamani, to little avail.  None of his friends or family seemd to have any indication of where he might have gone, but the superheroic community has begun to fear the worst:  for whatever reason, Ben has been taken by Hydragyrum.  What the creature wants with him and where the pair are now remain to be seen.

Villain of the Day:  May 18 (The Bouncer)

Freddy McVeigh didn't intend on rising through the ranks of The Organization, but when opportunity knocked, he certainly didn't say no.

One of The Chairman's low-level legbreakers, Freddy was one of a number of thugs sent to pay a visit to Dr. Morgan Arganstein, a noted biochemist who had something of a gambling problem.  Sent to collect on the good doctor's debt, Freddy started poking around the lab while his compatriots worked over Argenstein.  A large tank full of light blue liquid in sat bubbling away, labeled with all manner of warnings and cautions.

Naturally, Freddy couldn't contain his curiousity.

The substance, referred to as Polymer J2487, was Dr. Arganstein's attempt to create a bio-regenerative polymer for use in extreme wound cases.  Called 'bacta' by those working on the polymer project--a not-so-subtle reference to a favorite film franchise--a wounded subject could be immersed in the fluid to aid in the healing process.  For Freddy, though, the result was something entirely.

Accidentally opening a release valve, the bacta washed over Freddy, binding with his DNA.  When his compatriots rushed back into the lab, Freddy found himself stretched halfway across the laboratory, well beyond the limits of even the most talented contortionists.  Freddy smiled, "Hey boys, it looks like the doc's into something neat.  What say we take him back with us?"

Over the next few months, Freddy began testing his abilities.  His flesh became incredibly elastic, able to stretch into all manner of shapes.  He was resistant to blades, bullets and blows, as they bounced harmlessly off of him.  He could even roll himself into basic shapes, as thin as a water glass or as broad across as a ship's sail.

However, this newfound ability came with quite the cost.  After the first week, Freddy began to dry out.  Painfully cracking, he and several of the Chairman's operatives entered the cell where Dr. Argenstein was being held.  There, Argenstein shook his head, "Without more bacta, your cellular structure is dessicating.  You'll likely need regular immersion.  Daily, if possible."  

Arrangements were made.  Money changed hands.  A new lab was built.  And Argenstein?  Offered a job with the organization, he decided to become an asset instead of a victim.  Freddy, now calling himself The Bouncer, serves as one of the Chairman's underbosses, taking care of dangerous, unwanted elements.  Under him, Argenstein continues his research, enjoying the high life that comes courtesy of organized crime.

Villain of the Day: May 19 (Special Delivery)

One of the biggest questions in law enforcement today has been that of how criminals -- especially those with metahuman abilities -- procure their technological devices. Many make their own, but still others received them from mysterious benefactors or patrons from countries away. How do those folks get what they need?

The group known as Special Delivery.

Made up of former smugglers, arms dealers, drug mules, and more, Special Delivery specializes in anonymity, speed, and accuracy across the world. Taking on multi million dollar contracts from numerous villains, Special Delivery acts as a courier service for the nefarious, ferrying goods across the world with ease.

But who runs Special Delivery? While the true identity is still up for debate, the leading candidate is a woman known as Taylor Dunham, an American woman who was one of Mark Bennodetto's closest confidants before his arrest as Argentium. Since that day, Dunham has gone off the grid entirely, effectively leaving no trace of her ever existing.

Could I put in a quick request:  Bell & Booke are specifically not villains, which I did try to point out in the post, but are supporting cast - they're not intended as PCs, and they might sometimes be allies.

Any chance an annotation to that effect could get added to their entry?

Easily done!

Looks like I finally have a reason to make that shrinking hero now.

Villain of the Day: May 20. (FlyBoy)

Vince Kinnon couldnt wait to be a hero. He'd idolized tech based heroes every since he was a child, starting with Bunker and Unity, but moving on to Absolute Zero, Writhe, and Benchmark. He vigorously pursued courses in mechanical engineering, electronics, and more, just so he'd have the know how to achieve his dream of standing shoulder to shoulder with America's greatest heroes.

Imagine his surprise when he was drummed out after the first round of interviews for positions with the Sentinels of Freedom.

Disgusted, Vince threw himself into his home creation, a repulsor powered wingsuit capable of achieving Mach 4 speeds.

Imagine, then, his glee when he achieved his wish. The FlyBoy suit isn't pretty, but it certainly is capable.

And, for what it's worth, Vince's first forays as a masked hero went quite well. However, he soon found himself more and more in direct rivalry with other heroes, particularly those chosen ahead of him for the Sentinels of Freedom program. This led to a particularly violent outburst during a conflict with The Radioactivist, wherein Vince actually allowed Radioactivist to escape while he he himself argued with several of the SoF's new recruits. Vince was arrested on charges of aiding and abetting, but was quickly released as the charges were dropped.

However, the seed of vengeance was already planted, and FlyBoy has a new design already waiting in the wings...

Villain of the Day:  May 21 (Fissure)

Danielle Geary is obsessed with Magmaria.

Once a noted geologist, studying the relationship between seismic activity and the flow of magma within the earth's mantle, Danielle utterly broke when the first Magmarians surfaced.  Every concept of scientific inquiry, every book she'd read, every scholarly article she'd cited indicated that a civilization such as Magmaria simply Could. Not. Exist.  The very idea of a subterranean civilization, existing somewhere deep within the earth's crust, was farcical.  Despite the evidence in front of her eyes, she knew that it simply could not be the case.

From that day forward, Danielle was a woman possessed.  There had to be a reason for this.  Maybe the so-called Magmarians were aliens from some other world.  Maybe this was some nonsensical mysticism which had no bearing in science.  Regardless, she'd find her way to the bottom of things.  Magmaria became a fixation for her; her colleagues grew worried, she stopped sleeping and rarely ate.  In the end, her co-worker, Bill, made the call to mental health services.  Danielle was institutionalized for over a month, remediating her health and mental well-being.

Unfortunately, it didn't do much good.  When Danielle emerged from the psych ward, she was just as fixated, but now had the sense of mind to do something about it. 

In secret, Danielle began gathering a massive amount of mining equipment, blast charges, and fusion-powered sonic drilling device, taking them to the southern tip of Yellowstone National Park.  Only then did authorities realize what threat Danielle--now calling herself Fissure--truly intended.  In an attempt to destroy the paradox that was Magmaria, Danielle intended to drill down into the Yellowstone caldera, causing the subterranean supervolcano to explode prematurely.  Heroes were called in, Danielle's charges were disarmed, but the manic geologist had managed to escape, all the while her strange vendetta against Magmaria remains...

Does this count as technology? It's sciency at least. That's my excuse for not putting this up during the magic month.

Mister Midas

Alchemy, the blend of science and magic, is a practice that was mostly forgotten over the centuries, with the exception of Biomancer. Though with the emergence of people like the Scholar and Hermetic, it seems like people are starting to remember again. A freelance thug by the name of Austin Urban could technically be considered an alchemist as well, but he could only use it in one specific way: Everything he touched turned to gold. More specifically, any nonliving thing that made contact with his outer skin became some sort of gold-colored steel-like substance, and reverted to normal several seconds after he stopped touching it. That may not sound like much, but with it he could make a weapon out of anything, and even without it he was still a phisycal powerhouse.

Being a brutish type with no formal education beyone public high school, how he obtained such a… scholarly power is a bit of a mystery. According to those knew him, growing up he was a regular kid (if not a bit of a bully) with no powers up until he left home to make it on his own and promptly disappeared.

A few years later, he emerged clad in cheap plastic armor (which of course wasn't plastic when he was wearing it) weilding a similarly cheap sword, calling himself Mister Midas, and doing other villains' dirty work for money. He may not be as ambitious as some big-time villains, but he's been doing this job for decades and he's better at it than anyone else. If you have a job and you need some serious muscle, you call Midas.

Villain of the Day: May 22 (Gyges)

It's hardly a secret that the United States' military has any number of secret projects in the wings at any given point; while many of these projects never reach replicable results, the ones that do succeed tend to revolutionize the face of warfare.

Project Gyges was about to be one of the latter.

The brainchild of a team of Lieutenant Colonel Gerald Grimes and a team of optics experts, physicists, and engineers, Project Gyges aimed to provide a localized, infantry-based stealth array capable of being utilized en masse on the battlefield.  The delivery method for this stealth?  A series of photon-diffusing fields, capable of being emanated via a series of circular wristbands, collars, or other wearable devices.  

The exact details of Grimes' betrayal, however, are still up for debate.  Despite having video footage within the skunkworks itself, investigators still argue the truth behind what happened that July day.  Grimes had called an all-staff meeting for a status report and demonstration for a lean man in a dark suit, whom many presumed to be some investor or state official.  As the technicians proceeded to demonstrate the Gyges device--a small housecat, a nearby guardsman, and an armored personnel vechicle--the suited man smiled.  He clapped a hand on Grimes' back and said simply, "Excellent.  Pack it up!"

Grimes reached into his pocket, pulling forth a hand-held detonator.  Before anyone could react, the skunkworks exploded into flame and smoke.  In the carnage, several of the scientists attempted to escape.  As they dashed out of the skunkworks external structure, they were swiftly gunned down by unseen assailants.  Smiling, Grimes and his dark-suited compatriot walked out with a briefcase containing the completed Gyges prototypes.  

To date, Grimes has gone off the grid entirely; his twenty-six year military career went up with the smoke of that skunkworks.  Nobody has seen him since.

Villain of the Day:  May 23 (Caustic)

Suzanne Owlsey never saw herself as a scientist, but she certainly knew her way around a laboratory.  As it turns out, that's all it took for her to become a supervillain.

A phlebotomist at Overbrook General Hospital, Suzanne's health began deteriorating after her third year of work.  Days upon days of overtime, a never-ending queue of sample processing, and an unofficial edict from her supervisors that "time off just isn't in the schedule right now," left her burned out, exhausted, and stressed.  While she was able to live comfortably--she had no children and, really, no time for a husband or boyfriend--she grew to resent her job more and more.  

That's when someone showed up at her apartment.  Someone she recognized from the news reports from their clashes with the new Sentinels of Freedom.  Someone calling herself Cherenkov.

Suzanne was a single digit away from calling the authorities when Cherenkov managed to talk her down.  Cherenkov made Suzanne the proverbial offer she couldn't refuse:  join her on a new team--all women of science and technology, ready to take on the world.  

Suzanne turned her down outright.  She didn't call the police on the radioactive menace, but she was having none of it.  Despite the refusal, Cherenkov left a burner cell phone on Suzanne's coffee table saying, "Call me if you change your mind."

Three days later, Suzanne found herself working a 14 hour shift, proverbially up to her eyeballs in blood and stool samples.  Exhausted and unfocused, she dropped a vial of blood, which shattered on the tile floor, right in front of her supervisor, Dan.  Dan, just as frazzled, proceeded to berate the young woman...whereupon she snapped.  Grabbing the first thing at hand--a bottle of undiluted citric acid cleaner--she flung it at Dan's face.  The bottle splashed open across his face, covering it with caustic chemicals; the young supervisor began screaming in agony, clutching his acid-spattered skin.

Suzanne was arrested almost immediately, but she knew to whom her first phone call would go.  No less than 45 minutes after being booked in the Rook City PD, she was released into the care of her disabled 'cousin', Jenna.  Four hours later, Suzanne was off the grid entirely.  

Now, Suzanne has all but dropped her past identity, in favor of her new name:  Caustic.  Wearing something of a cross between a biohazard suit and a battle harness, she uses various chemicals--primarily acids, enzymes, and other destructive liquids, emitted from a specially designed liquid projectile device.  And, alongside her new allies, the whole world will melt before her visage.

Please, never show this villain to my chemist wife. She already leans to the dark side, she doesn’t need ideas. 

Villain of the Day:  May 24 (Vox Populi)

Amber Rippeon had always been an advocate for the little guy. 

Through college, Amber worked with a number of student political organizations, protesting everything from animal cruelty and police brutality to the use of racially-tinged imagery as mascots for sports team.  After graduating with a triple major (Political Science/Communication/English), Amber went to work for a left-wing non-profit advocacy group, producing various flyers and social media posts for rallies and other gatherings.  She was saving the world, one flyer at a time.

When the First Megalopolis Bank declared insolvency last year, Amber was one of the first to take to the streets.  However, as governmental oversight committees grilled the bank's executives over corporate bonuses, fiscally irresponsible investment strategies, and misuse of investors' funds, the streets of Megalopolis turned into a literal riot zone.  Cars were lit on fire, rocks were thrown, and police were dispatched in full riot gear.  It was one of those officers who changed Amber's life irrevocably.

As protestors clashed with police, Amber was on the front line.  While she herself didn't throw stones or molotov cocktails, she eagerly shouted profanities and chants at the police, getting in close range to inhibit their march.  One officer swung his billy-club; Amber ducked, but not fast enough.  What might have hit her in center of mass instead crushed her throat.  She crumpled like an aluminum can, gasping and wheezing.  While she was immediately taken to emergency services, the damage was done:  her vocal cords were shredded, her larynx a broken mess.  She could barely breathe, much less speak.

The officer in question was eventually dismissed from the force for his use of excessive force, but Amber's mind had turned from dissension to outright vengeance.  When she was finally released from the hospital--after nearly 2 months of rehabilitation, the whole of which was spent on an artificial ventilator--Amber was dead-set on tearing down the whole structure of the police force.  

However, it just so happened that one of her fellow activist friends was the college roommate of a fellow named Irving Healey.  Irving Healey, as we know now, is the mastermind behind the villainous think-tank/supplier known as Haephestus Labs.  After putting in a favor or two, Healey shipped Amber the device that changed her life.  The vocal amplification collar worn by Amber, now calling herself Vox Populi, amplifies Amber's voice to an phenomenal degree, allowing her to emit intense sonic blasts capable of shattering steel as if it were glass.  

So imbued, Amber raised her game as a protester to that of an outright anarchist.  As Vox Populi, she regularly targets major banking and economic centers, prisons, police stations, and other institutions of establishment power.  While powered heroes have managed to confront Vox Populi on a number of occasions, she has managed to escape on every occasion, disappearing into a network of underground dissidents eager to keep their superpowered savior safe from the clutches of 'the man.'

Villain of the Day:  May 25 (Quintessence)

The being calling itself Quintessence made its first appearance shortly after the OblivAeon event, emerging in the midst of the ruins of San Alonzo.  Clad in gleaming bronze-tinted armor and wielding a bevy of advanced weaponry, Quintessence quickly made his way to the refugee camps outside of the city, proclaiming his utter dominion and his status as the perfection of the human genome.  While Quintessence was quickly driven off by a combined force of military force and heroic intervention, few were able to dwell on this strange individual until much later, once the carnage of OblivAeon was contained.

Since that day, Quintessence has only made sparing appearances, with each revealing hints of information as to his true identity.  After kidnapping several professional athletes and Olympians, Quintessence revealed that he is a believer in orthogenesis--the concept that natural selection and evolution have a finite end goal and that a genetic pinnacle can be reached.  Further, Quintessence believes that he, himself, is that pinnacle of the human condition, and that he actively aims to cull down the human population such that the remaining humans will inevitably provide a master-race of humankind capable of approaching his "genetic perfection".

Coupled with this came the information that Quintessence is, in fact, a time traveler.  While the exact timeline and position in time from which Quintessence came is still a mystery, conversations with Time-Slinger and CON-IV have provided a few clues.  The design of the armor and weaponry which Quintessence wields has a great deal of similarity to that of the atomic end-glaive once wielded by Deadline, which itself originated aboard the Enclave of the Endlings.  However, a device that Quintessence used during one confrontation with the Paradigms seems to have a degree of software that shared similar base coding language with that of the Benchmark suit.

However, most disturbing may well be the links between Quintessence and the fiendish individual known as Biomancer.  Quintessence has an uncanny ability to detect Biomancer's fleshchildren, often abducting them live, for the express purpose of utilizing the sorcery-crafted flesh for genetic experimentation.  Some have surmised that Quintessence may well be some alternate universe version of Biomancer; while one bent his talents towards the arcane, the other focused upon science and genetic manipulation.  This theory is only reinforced by Quintessence's creation of a servitor group which he refers to as "The Factotums"--near bestial beings which Quintessence bred to be 'the perfect servitor soldier, mindless and merciless', which defend Quintessence's safe-havens.

Villain of the Day:  May 26  (Raw Nerve)

Barry Waldrop wasn't born deaf, but after twenty years of working a rotary grinder in a factory, his hearing deteriorated significantly.  While hearing aids stemmed the problem at first, his doctors quickly realized that no degree of traditional hearing aid would work for much longer and suggested having a bionic cochlear implant surgically installed.  This implant would, effectively, be able to transmit vibrations directly into the auditory nerve, restoring his lost hearing.

The surgery was a success.  And then some.

Within weeks, Barry was back to work with a brand new cybernetic implant beneath each ear.  His hearing was restored and all was well...aside from his floor supervisor, Gordon.  Any time Barry was around Gordon, Gordon would grow nauseous, experience flashes of pain and vertigo, and twice collapsed on the factory floor.  While none managed to link Barry to Gordon's health issues, Barry quickly put one and one together, realizing that in all cases, his presence was the common link.

Soon enough, Gordon wasn't the only one experiencing these symptoms, but Barry had a plan.  He was going to practice.

You see, the very normal auditory implant--a surgery that literally thousands have had with no ill effects--had dug itself slightly deeper into the lower pons of his brain, interfereing with his body's natural bioelectric field.  In fact, he became capable of utilizing this implant to disrupt the bioelectric rhythms in others, causing the pain, nausea, discomfort, and unconsciousness experienced by Gordon and several others at Barry's factory.  

Unfortunately for the world, Barry's newfound power immediately sent him into a spiral of corruption.  He began testing his abilities on passers-by, often spending his nights sitting in restaurants or bars, waiting for some poor fool to come in, whom he would target with a seizure, a vertigo attack, or some other biochemical imbalance.  After a month or two, Barry had all but mastered his abilities.  Cobbling together a costume from homemate parts,  he began knocking off convenience stores and drive-thrus, picking up almost $200,000 in ill-gotten cash in just under three months of jobs.

Now calling himself Raw Nerve, Barry has begun assembling something of a gang within Megalopolis, working for self-interest and mutual protection.  While Barry's crimes likely wouldn't attract the attention of the Freedom Five, Barry and his cohort have begun a hitherto-unseen crime wave in the streets of Megalopolis.

Need to shut that factory down for OSHA violations! D:

Villain of the Day: May 27 (The Masticator)

Whatever you do, don’t call him Mister Chomps.

Anthony Valetti has been a good for nothing thug for most of his life. As a teen, he spent his time in and out of juvenile detention for petty theft and vandalism. That escalated his senior year into assault and robbery. After dropping out of high school, Anthony spent his evenings running heroin for The Chairman and his agents, filling the streets of Rook City with drugs.

However, numerous other parties were impressed by Anthony’s loyalty, fortitude, and ruthlessness. One such party was Dr. Emershaun Laurent, the twisted surgeon and geneticist responsible for so many biochemical weapons and humanoid monstrosities. Laurent offered Anthony a deal: work for him (and his mysterious patrons), and gain the power he so craved.

It was a done deal. During a grueling 16 hour surgery, Anthony’s jaw was removed and replaced with an augmented one, featuring razor sharp teeth coated in a tungsten carbide cutting agent and servos capable of generating almost 30,000 newtons of biting force. The Masticator was born.

Since that day, Anthony has worked his essay through the ranks of Laurent’s organization to become a trusted lieutenant. He became most notable to heroes during an encounter with The Paradigms, in which he literally bit through one of Unity’s creations. He and his allies were driven off, but not before he issued a threat to the technopath: “Call me Chomps again, and its your neck.”

However, Anthony is insatiably curious as to whom he, and Laurent, truly work for. What happens when he learns the truth, though, remains to be seen.

9 out of 10 dentists recommend NOT DOING THAT TO YOUR TEETH, GOOD LORD, MAN!

Villain of the Day:  May 28 (Black Site 515-Tango)

In response to the numerous threats facing the country--foreign, domestic, and interstellar--the United States military has often sought to provide their troops with the finest in cutting edge weaponry, genetic augmentation, and any other edge against the country's enemies.  Much of the research and 'grunt work' for these initiatives are done at government skunk-works sites.  The Groom Lake facility in Nevada (often referred to as Area 51) garnered particular fame, as did Fort Adamant, once the indiscretions found within were finally revealed.

The experiments currently taking place at Black Site 515-Tango make those sites look like a 5th grade science fair.

The brainchild of Brigadier General Lucius Horner (USAF), the 515 site is rumored to be somewhere beneath a plateau in southern Montana.  The facility there is entirely self-sustaining; staff does not leave the facility, and visitors are warned once to leave, before they are opened upon with all manner of small arms fire.  The 515 site comprises almost a full skyscraper's worth of offices, laboratories, assembly lines, and other necessary scientific and engineering facilities.  Projects that have emerged from the Black Site include a new series of miniature mass drivers intended to replace the M-16 as the default in infantry warfare, as well as a series of relays capable of generating a powerful energy shield, as easy to erect and move as a series of tent stakes.

The real horror of Black Site 515, though?  That would be Sub-Floor 2.

In Sub-Floor 2, a series of biologists, surgeons, geneticists, and bioengineers have worked tirelessly to recreate the gene-binding process used on so many various aliens across the galaxy....and make that process available to human soldiers.  An entire regiment of captured Thorathians, as well as nearly 2,000 gene-bound creatures from the various worlds inhabit the cells in Sub-Floor 2, living out the last of their miserable days as test subjects for the American military.  

With so many forces mobilizing in North Africa and the Middle East, can it be long before the first American Gene-Bound Marines storm the beaches of the Red Sea?  Or worse, should some other force--such as TALOS or The Annihilationists--learn of these experiments, the world may swiftly find these abominations in the hands of the worst individuals imaginable...

Oh wow, that's terrifying. D:

Zivanka Doležal, the daughter of a fairly successful banker in Prague, had her whole life ahead of her. She had her choice of universities to attend when she finished her schooling, she had her friends, and she had a young man who hadn't gotten around to asking her out yet.

That all changed when Zivanka's body started to glow. Unbeknownst to anyone, she had stepped in a rain puddle that had been transformed into isoflux alpha. The glow was faint at first, only enough to see after the lights were out, but it quickly grew. Her parents took her to an emergency room, then to a specialist. The doctors couldn't tell them anything. Zivanka started to lose weight, burning off calories as light at an alarming rate.

Help finally arrived in the form of a case worker from Revocorp. With the use of various power negation technologies, Zivanka's powers were damped down to a sustainable level and she gradually learned to control them. She found she could manipulate her light to produce images and even focus it into powerful laser beams. As she gained control, the power dampers were turned down, then removed. And then Revocorp had a proposition for her: they were putting together a team. As a success story from Revocorp's efforts to help people both normal and powered, she could be a spokesperson, a celebrity, and a hero all at once.

Everyone had heard of the Freedom Five; Zivanka jumped at the chance. Taking on the somewhat grandiose moniker "Princess of the Universe", she fought petty crime, spoke on behalf of Revocorp, and generally enjoyed life at Revocorp's expense. Her university intentions were forgotten. She grew to womanhood as a slightly spoiled celebrity, famous mainly for being famous.

All that came crashing down when the head of Revocorp was unmasked as a villain himself. As Benchmark revealed Revocorp's corruption, Zivanka's horrible suspicions grew. Finally, she used her powers to cut her way past security doors deadly defenses in the Prague branch office. Past human testing labs, a prison block, and a morgue, she found what she feared most: a young woman, unconscious and surrounded by life support equipment, glowing brightly and all but wasted away. With precision laser beams, she cut the power to the equipment and stayed to watch until the monitors flatlined.

Then she tore down the building and all the people in it who had smiled at her through their lies. Who had tricked her into speaking on their behalf while they ran a horror show behind the scenes. Who had made her complicit in their crimes and stolen her childhood from her.

In that office she shed the childish title "Princess of the Universe" and took on one more appropriate to her age and nature: Queen Killer. Her work only started, she fled into the night, vowing vengeance against the whole corrupt company and any so-called "heroes" that would protect them.

Villain of the Day: May 29 (Haphazard)

Any gamer will tell you: RNG is the only truth in the universe. Phil Keetoh certainly won’t argue with that concept.

A software tester from Seattle, Phil cut his teeth working on games for various companies, putting in the long hours necessary to bring triple A titles to systems worldwide. While he tended to bounce from studio to studio as projects were delivered, Phil had a reputation as an enterprising young man who was always eager for more.

When Checkdown SoftWorks called, hoever, asking about his availability to test a new virtual reality helmet device, Phil couldn’t say yes fast enough. He backed his bags for Portland and dove into his work.

However, the fickle dice gods of the universe had something in store for Phil that day. While the helmet device Phil was testing housed a off phenomenally powerful processor, something malfunctioned in a way that technicians are still trying to pierce together.

The algorithms in the helmet manifested in three dimensional reality as sonething of a chaos field around Phil, which he could manipulate and shape. Effectively choosing his own reality, Phil could shape the building blocks of matter in ways that seemed beyond illogical. While wearing the helmet, his body flickered in and out of this dimension by the second, with afterimages of him flashing about the room.

Naturally, all this power went to Phil’s head. The prototype helmet went off the grid, along with Phil, and the villain known as Haphazard made his first appearance. Strangely, he seems able to access every locked door and vault, able to be in multiple places at once, and make even the most improbable happen. How do you fight a villain who can literally turn reality itself against you?

The Amazons
Shanice Lincoln worked as a receiving clerk for a Los Angeles dockyard which, not to put too fine a point on it, handled a lot of smuggling traffic. And that was fine. But month after month, she watched her superiors take bribes that involved fat rolls of bills or even mysterious locked briefcases, but she only ever got the barest whiff of a kickback. All that changed when a dock worker dropped a crate coming off a boat from "Alaska", and what burst out could only be described as a huge flower armed with thorns the size of her hand and even bigger teeth. She ran, but a barrage of seeds struck her. She got some nice hush money to stay away from the hospital, but it only barely made up for spending the next week and a half missing work, feverish and near-delirious on the couch. When the fever finally broke, she discovered a network of vines wrapped around her body, rooted in her flesh. However, it quickly became clear that the vines obeyed her thoughts, and she found she could launch poisonous thorns with surprising accuracy. Creating a costume out of the living leaves and flowers at her command, she named herself Amazon and went out to collect some really big scores.

When Andressa Silva came to the United States from Brazil, she left behind a family who always had more time for the cartel than for her. She also left behind a family history that was old when Columbus sailed the ocean blue. Her grandmother raised her on tales of their tribe taking in refugees from the sinking of Atlantis, and of the ancient sorcerers' mystical traditions which could make the tribe's warriors stronger and tougher than any normal human... if the blood of Atlantis ran strongly enough in their veins. For Andressa, it did. Taking on the name "The Amazon", she struck out to earn power and prestige in LA in the only way she knew how -- the underworld.

It didn't take long for the two criminals to realize they shared a codename. When a fight for the rights to the name ended in a stalemate, Shanice and Andressa compromised: Shanice would be Amazon River, and Andressa would change to Amazon Reaver. Having developed some mutual respect, Amazon Reaver and Amazon River (Mean and Green for short) teamed up and have been on a meteoric rise in LA underworld ever since.
 

Villain of the Day:  May 30 (Adrenal)

Maria Brunhault didn't expect to be drummed out of pharmacology school for her stealing component chemicals.  She was too careful for that.  What she didn't bank on was the random drug test that her first employer required.

Even as a teen, Maria was fascinated by chemistry, graduating second in her class and enjoying a full scholarship to University of Minnesota's prestigious pharmacology program.  During her masters' level research with one of her professors, Maria was permitted to use human test subjects for the first time...something she relished far too much.  While working on a potential replacement for the birth-control injection, Maria came under inquest for her treatment of several test subjects, who raised ethics issues to her professor.

Maria was taken off the project, but was permitted to continue on in the program, using the data accrued by her advisor and her fellow classmates.  However, Maria swiftly became bitter.  She knew she could do better, even if that meant experimenting on herself.

Over the course of the next two years, Maria's modest one-bedroom apartment morphed into a grad-student bungalow into an outright pharmacological lab, with equipment and resources stolen from the university laboratories, purchased on the black market, or cobbled together from common chemicals.  Testing her hypotheses on herself, she completed her research and graduated with honors, whereupon she was headhunted by numerous big-pharma firms.

That, however, was her downfall.  After years of self-experimentation, Maria's physiology had altered dramatically.  When ZenaAstra offered her a position with a starting six-figure salary, all she had to do was pass the drug test.  Without thinking, Maria peed in the proverbial cup....and all of her indiscretions swiftly came to light.

Embarrassed and infuriated, Maria fled outright, taking whatever she could carry.  Four days later, she found herself in a strange warehouse, along with several other young, powered women.

Since that day, Adrenal (as Maria has started calling herself) has served as the sawbones for this group.  However, she often takes the field with a strange breathing rig and an auto-injector strapped to her left wrist.  Maria's powers vary by encounter, but the various chemicals in her array have given her the ability to give off intense pheremones capable of altering mood, the ability to exhale corrosive gasses, a series of touch-delivered poisons, and short bursts of increased strength, speed, and stamina.  Further, Maria seems to be immune to all but the strongest toxins and has even shown a significant resistance to blood magic, which seems to indicate that her blood simply...isn't.  

With Adrenal in the field, a new force of ladies has taken the night, armed with science beyond that of any the world has seen...but who's organizing all this?!

The bit about her being resistant to bloog magic is a neat touch. :D

Lies! No one is immune to the magic that is Bloogo's love.

Considering Bloogo dies in at least two realities someone is immune apparently. 

For the record, Adrenal is resistant to both blood magic and bloog magic. Canon. You heard it here first.

Okay, one more.

The Iron Lady
In 1981, the Soviet super-soldier Red Star crashed the wedding of Prince Charles and Diana Spencer and sealed practically the entire peerage of Britain inside St. Paul's Cathedral. Setting a bomb to end the aristocracy once and for all, he made his escape through the roof on a column of fire. It was a black day indeed, for he almost succeeded. However, the queen and the royal couple were saved when Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher shielded them with a barricade of structural beams, revealing for the first time her mastery over the powers of magnetism.

In the days that followed, while the royals recovered from their injuries, Thatcher held the nation together. Nicknamed "The Iron Lady" by the press, she declared that this would never happen again; that Britain would be safe forevermore under her firm rule. Security was increased to unprecidented levels.  She saw laws passed that demanded all powered people in the UK must serve the government or face exile or imprisonment. Thatcher herself faced the most powerful opponents, wrapping herself in steel armor and her opponents in cocoons of metal. Year after year, freedoms were traded for security. By the year 2000, the United Kingdom had become unrecognizable.

Well into her fourth decade as Prime Minister, the Iron Lady showed no signs of slowing down. No one had seen her in the flesh for many years, but the sight of her imposing armor suit hovering above the rooftops became a common one. Then the message arrived: the entire multiverse was in danger. The Iron Lady didn't hesitate. She crossed through the mist portal and joined the battle against Oblivaeon, the greatest foe of all.

Oblivaeon fell. But in that moment of triumph, the mist portals vanished. The Iron Lady was trapped in a world not her own, and days turned to months with no clues as to how she might return to her own world. She learned that her counterpart in this alternate universe had died long before, a mere mortal lacking the superpowers that maintained her vitality. Still, Britain was Britain. She offered the people of this new world the safety she had secured for her own, but they rejected her -- called her fascist, villain, evil! And so the Iron Lady stepped forth to show these... children the error of their ways. She would preserve Britannia, whether the people of the nation liked it or not!

Villain of the Day:  May 31  (Dr. Melody Stinson)

As OblivAeon fell and the cosmos merged into but two timelines, so many survivors of the cosmic conflagration emerged in a world they never knew, with subtle (sometimes imperceptible) differences from their own reality.

Dr. Melody Stinson is one such temporal refugee, though the cosmos may have truly been better off had she died along with the rest of her universe.

One of the founding members of the Reuben-Eakendall Laboratories, Dr. Stinson had been one of the most brilliant minds in her world's history.  While she started her scientific tenure as a particle physicist, she quickly began branching into astrophysics, mechanical engineering, biophysics, and molecular chemistry.  However, time and again, her contributions to the field of science were overlooked by her overwhelmingly white male counterparts.  After four years at REL, Stinson broke off to found her own think-tank:  the Center for Research, Experimentation, Technology and Innovation. 

While many in her world viewed Stinson as something of a techological celebrity--a person whom modern life would not exist without--the reality was much more harrowing.  Stinson had become obsessed with knowledge and advancement.  She envisioned a world in which science could advance without the shackles of ethical restraint, without the stigma of discrimination and anti-intellectualism.  And, whatever their reasons, her message resonated within the scientific community.

Within three years, Stinson had attracted the most brilliant minds in science and technology--particularly focusing on those the scientific establishment had left behind or neglected.  Stinson often made a point of personally contacting recruits, especially those in underserved minorities.  Within five years, Stinson's succeess allowed her to purchase REL's facilities out from under them.  As she sat in on REL's introductory board meeting, she couldn't help but smile as she proceeded to liquidate all of REL's assets, patents, and equipment, selling the overwhelming majority to herself, as majority shareholder of CRETIN.

Stinson's carte-blanche approach to science led her to numerous dealings within the criminal underworld, purchasing materials on the black market, hiring human traffickers to 'acquire' individuals for experimental trials, and several other blind spots in criminal dealings.  Each time, she equivocated, those actions led to some great advancement in her world's science.  Strip mining for rare earth metals led directly to an inorganic teleportation device, which revolutionized her world's shipping and logistics.  Experiments conducted on abducted latin-x refugees led directly to the eradication of many genetic abnormalities and the formation of a cancer vaccine with over 80% efficacy.

Dr. Stinson's world died in flames.  She, naturally, had contingency plans.  Escaping through a trans-dimensional gateway--the prototype of which was designed by one of her employees, Dr. Eliot Marklund--she arrived in this realm just in time to witness the fall of OblivAeon.

However, Melody Stinson is hardly one to mourn.  Ever the pragmatist, she has already begun assembling the core of a new CRETIN, recruiting individuals known to bend the rules in the name of scientific progress.  And soon, she will have a new world to drag screaming into the future.

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With that, we reach the end of Mechanical May!

Starting tomorrow, we begin Homage-June:  all of our villains will be direct variations on (and share a name with) a figure from history, antiquity, literature, film, or some other media.  

With Mechanical May at an end, we say hello to Homage-June!  All of our villains for June will be a new riff on someone from antiquity, history, literature, film, or some other media.

However, Homage-June comes with an announcement:  for the first time since starting the Villain of the Day thread, I'll be taking a few days off.  I'll be attending the Origins Game Fair from Tuesday, June 12 through Sunday, June 17.  As such, there will be no Villains during those days.  After our Monday, June 11th villain, Villain of the Day will return on Monday, June 18th, once I'm back home.  Thanks!

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Villain of the Day:  June 1 (The White Rabbit)

Ellen Carroll was practically born into the drug trade.  As a teenager in inner-city Rook City, she started as a user:  marijuana and ecstacy to star, followed by the occasional binges into harder things.  However, after spending a stint dating her dealer--Jerry, the brother of one Randy Burke--she started dealing out drugs herself, starting as a street pusher, then becoming a noted distributor for The Organization.  After Jerry died of an overdose, however, Ellen started looking into other options on the streets.  With The Chairman's sanction, she recruited a legion of chemists and pharmacists, developing the newest, the most addictive, and the "safest" options for their customers.

However, with Dark Watch roaming the streets, Ellen knew that she needed some kind of defense to keep her operations free of interfering martial artists, mystic investigators, and gun-toting vigilantes.  On her own--without The Chairman's consent or knowledge--she had her legion of manufacturers begin working on a series of hallucinogens and other weaponized chemicals, capable of use in a hand-to-hand combat situation.  Within a month, she had a veritable arsenal of drug-based weapons at her disposal:  wrist-mounted injectors capable of causing seizures, gas grenades that caused hallucinations, terror-inducing liquid sprays, and more.

By this point though, Chairman Pike was well and truly tipped off.  He called Ellen into his office--somewhere she'd never been and never hoped to go--and bade her sit down.  Shaking, she complied.  Pike smiled, "You're ambitious...you sell well...you provide such a vital service.  But your lack of faith in my ability to provide defense against the likes of The Wraith and Expatriette shows me that you haven't bought in.  That shouldn't be a problem..."

Ellen was given an ultimatum:  turn in her various devices to The Chairman and get back to work, or keep her devices and prepare an uncermonious end.  Ellen, however, chose a third option:  that very night, she vanished, taking her devices, her recipes, and a semi-truckload of raw materials with her.  Within the month, The White Rabbit was back on the scene, producing high-end hallucinogenics and narcotics for the world's elite.  On the few occasions where heroes have encountered her, Ellen has fully embraced her "Through the Looking Glass" aesthetic, dressed in a motley top-and-tails, a gold pocketwatch, and the ubiquitous striped top hat, with her various weapons and defense mechanisms built into her kevlar-lined costume.

Today, The White Rabbit's influence over the global drug trade has grown significantly, with her illicit sales sitting at #6 worldwide.  While she actively avoids working within Rook City--"a professional courtesy to my former employer", says Ellen--The White Rabbit has begun making inroads into Megalopolis and several other cities.  The recent influx of "Black Absinthe" into Megalopolis, particularly, was directliy attributed to the creations of The White Rabbit and her underlings.  The Chairman, however, views The White Rabbit's presence as an absolute affront to his power and actively takes steps to usurp her power where possible.  However, Chairman Pike's efforts always seem to be just a touch late, as The White Rabbit is always a step ahead...

Villain of the Day:  June 2 (Donatien Alphonse Francois, the Marquis de Sade)

The Revolution raged across France.  The Bastille had fallen, the monarchy was cast down, and The Marquis de Sade, Donatien Alphonse Francois had finally been released from the asylum at Charenton.  What would become his most seminal work, The 120 Days of Sodom, was nearly complete, and he would shortly find himself named to the National Convention.  

Would that Robespierre's guillotine had fallen upon de Sade, the world would have been spared a villain that has echoed through the ages.  While many view de Sade as little more than a libertine and something of a sexual deviant, the truth behind the Marquis is so much more dire.

In his earliest experimentations in the late 1700s, the Marquis de Sade found something call to him during his debauched sessions.  He found that, within the act of inflicting or receiving pain, his body became charged with a powerful arcane energy.  While others--notably Countess Bathory--would recognize this as a variant of blood magic, others, such as Charles Fort, referred to it as 'orgone'.  Orgone energy serves as a reservoir of arcane power, capable of shaping reality and effecting tangible change upon the universe.  Within his second book, Justine, the Marquis began to document his experiments in the arcane, encoding his findings using the techniques once perfected by the sorcerer George Monck, the 1st Duke of Albemarle.

Over the remainder of his life, the Marquis continued his exploration of pain-based magics, escaping from the clutches of Robespierre and, later, Napoleon.  While he was 'remanded' to the asylum at Charenton, Napoleon and his courtiers hardly knew that the Marquis had transformed the asylum into a temple of the flesh, devoted completely to the acquisition and usage of blood-orgone energy.  Napoleon's soldiers raided Charenton in 1814, whereupon the Marquis was believed dead....though the sorcerer had shaped the flesh of a manservant to resemble his own, while the Marquis made his escape to Italy.

Since that day, the Marquis de Sade has wandered the world, establishing dens of iniquity across the world, inducting person after person into an inner circle of followers.  While he has faced opposition from Countess Bathory at times--to say nothing of conservative groups, more afraid of brazen sexuality than that of the real threat of blood sorcery--the Marquis de Sade has managed to elude the ancient vampire time after time.  What he seeks through blood-orgone magicks is still unknown, though his methods are brutal beyond measure...

Now that's some good research! :D

Well, by day I'm a prospect researcher, so I do have some degree of practice.

Villain of the Day:  June 3 (Staurakios the Usurper)

The year is 781.  Irene, ruler of the Byzantine Empire as regent for her infant son Constantine VI, appoints Staurakios, a eunuch servant as her foreign minister.  While already instilled as 'patrikios'--a higih court appointment--Irene saw this as a way to solidify power amongst the eunuchs of the empire while focusing on the coup attempts that already threatened her short reign.  For seven long years, Staurakios traveled the empire, building alliances and crushing foes, bringing glory to mighty Byzantium.

Staurakios, however, built these alliances upon a foundation of lies and manipulation.

As Constantine VI grew to age, the young ruler and his mother quickly came into conflict.  Constantine was jealous of the power held by Staurakios and the other eunuch officials, while Irene was reticent to give up the power she had gathered over the years.  As civil war raged against the empire, Staurakios was captured by the soldiers of Constantine's Armeniac Theme, where he was flogged, scalped, and left for dead on an island in the Mediterranean.

What none expected was a cold, ragged Staurakios to return, leading Irene's forces into the palace at Byzantium, capturing Constantine, and driving his talon-like fingers into the young emperor's eyes.  Staurakios dragged the young emperor to the highest parapet of the palace and drove a spear through Constantine's lower abdomen, pinning him to the floor of the tower.  Constantine screamed until he lost his voice, slowly bleeding out over the next three hours.

Even Irene could not brook this madness.  While she expected the death of soldiers, the death of her only son was a bridge too far.  She ordered her soldiers to capture Staurakios, but the creature that he had become was like something out of a nightmare.  His flesh resisted their spears and arrows, he flung seasoned veterans aside with ease, and he sprinted out of the palace with the swiftness of a racing horse.

In truth, Staurakios' hate and malice had turned him into something beyond human.  If he died upon that island, he had become something more, something hateful, something evil.  Staurakios has surfaced a number of times since those far-flung days, often restricting his attempts to conquer areas in Eastern Europe and the Middle East.  During the middle ages, he took the name Vlad Tepes, taking back Wallachia from John Hunyadi.  In the 20th century, he posed as a monastic and spirtualist, growing close to the Russian royal family, before betraying them to revolutionaries.

Today, Staurakios has turned his attention to a new portion of the world.  The Americans have become the new empire, stretching their influence across the world.  This, truly, cannot be allowed to stand.  Empires fall, and Staurakios the Usurper tears down empires.

Okay, but he was Vlad the Impaler and Rasputin? XD Amazing.

Villain of the Day:  June 4th (Mister Darcy)

The sudden death of heiress Katherine Hutchinson, Duchess of Westfarthing was beyond shocking to her family and friends.  The truth behind her death, however?  Far more shocking than her death itself.

Duchess Hutchinson was one of the worlds' most eligable bachelorettes, galavanting along the party circuit, drinking with Hollywood celebrities, and enjoying feature after feature in the tabloid magazines.  When she started dating an unknown person, named Eric Darcy Tufts, the blogosphere went berserk trying to find out who the enigmatic Mister Tufts truly is.  They met with limited success at best; more often, they found a nothing but a stone wall.

Why?  Because Eric Tufts never existed.  Nor had Stephen Ladnier, the roguish charmer who had seduced his way into the bedroom of San Alonzo starlet Josephine Thomas before her tragic overdose.  Nor had Carl Evslin, the mystery man who had stolen the heart of Consuela Vee, just before the heartbreaking DUI accident that led to her death.

Rather, the mystery man calling himself Mister Darcy floats from wealthy woman to wealthy woman, entering their good graces, and finding their way into their wallet and home.  Then, once his access to their fortune is unfettered, this "black widower" finds some method to arrange the death of his new paramour, disappearing once more with several million more in his bank account and a spring in his step.

It is still unknown whether Mister Darcy has any degree of metahuman ability.  Those who have managed to corner him have made mention that Darcy simply oozes charisma and charm, though this may simply be a natural je-ne-sais-quoi, though others have postulated that he exudes some mind-altering force capable of charming or otherwise persuading anyone subjected to that force into an unnatural calm.  Darcy is further known to be an outstanding fencer, capable of fending off even the likes of Mister Fixer (not defeating, as Sensei Walker points out) with naught but a fireplace poker.

"Are you a robot?"

Catherane Andrade, junior developer, was always incensed whenever she saw that question.  It was like asking a child if they stole the cookie.  Of course they were going to say "no."

And the robots were real, Catherane had no doubt.  There were those rare robots with integrity, like Omnitron, whom she had some grudging respect for.  She wasn't sure if Omnitron was really the hero it claimed to be, but at least it wasn't sneaking around in human guise like all the others.

And there were so many others!  That weird guy who always hung out on the corner?  Robot.  The lady who worked at the corner store, with the lazy eye, who always looked disapprovingly at her when she bought that second carton of cigarettes?  Definitely a robot.  And all those politicians, who clearly just wanted people to be able to kill each other in the streets?  How could they be anything but robots?  Of course, the worst ones were the ones who worked in the tech companies, who hypocriticically claimed to help people identify robots while simultaneously putting their compatriots in charge of transportation, the economy, and ultimately the military.

Eventually Catherane decided enough was enough.  A friend she met online hooked her up with someone called "Ray," who was happy to take most of her life savings off her hands in exchange for an array of actually effective robot detection tools and a modest but effective anti-robot arsenal.  Of course, the weapons were equally effective against humans, and Catherane couldn't usually hang around after a kill to dig through the carnage for the confirmatory evidence.  Besides, she didn't have to.  She knew what she knew.

Concealing her online identity with several layers of proxies and false credentials, she would log on to the online forums of the so-called "conspiracy theorists" lurking in plain sight on the internet, to post just enough evidence to prove she did it.  She set up accounts on various crowdfunding services, which her growing number of followers contributed to--not a vast fortune, but enough to keep her operations afloat.  Every once in a while she'd get an especially large donation along with a body of evidence proving the identity of another robot in hiding, and she couldn't be happier to put that target at the top of her list.

Eventually Catherane realized her exploits had gone beyond the level of the mere "hobby" she'd thought of her project as--she was a true vigilante.  Maybe even a hero, though she'd wait for others to award her that label.  She could be modest.  But she needed a code name for anyone to take her seriously.

Embracing the irony, Catherane called herself CAPTCHA.  Let the "robots" beware.

Villain of the Day:  June 5 (Black Stephen the Conquistador)

Esteban de Dorantes--known as Black Stephen to some--was one of the foremost guides for the Spanish conquistadors in the mid-16th Century.  For years, Estevanico led expeditions across the Floridian peninsula, up through what is now modern-day Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico, and all throughout Mexico.  Despite his Muslim upbringing, he was viewed as one of Catholic Spain's most indispensible explorers and survivors, known across the continent for his flashing cutlass and his penchant for wearing animal hides and other talismans while in the wild.

In 1539, Estevanico first heard of the Seven Cities of Cibola, a ring of magically hidden cities filled with wealth beyond measure.  The local Zuni tribesmen warned Estevanico and his group to leave the cities well enough alone, and that any who dared breach their vaults would be cursed with everything they had ever wanted.

Dreaming of mounds of gold and gems, Estevanico paid the Zuni no heed.  Not two days later, he led an expedition of twelve Spainiards deep into the Yucatan jungles.  

Estevanico and his comrade, Friar Marcos de Niza, were the only two of that expedition to lay eyes on the fabled Seven Cities.  Glittering and gleaming, their emerald spires rose above the jungle with the promise of wealth untold.  As Friar Marcos stood agape, Estevanico slowly drew his cutlass, beheading the friar with a single blow.  Alone, he descended into Cibola, practically dancing across the gilded cobblestones.

Estevanico emerged that day with wealth beyond measure, though as he filled his bags with gold statuary, fist-sized gemstones, and more, each piece of wealth that he found was simply not enough.  No gem was perfect enough, no gold pure enough.  There had to be something better.  Infuriated, Estevanico left Cibola empty handed, with the city disappearing into the jungle once more.

Since that day, Black Stephen the Conquistador still wanders the world, ever in search of more and more perfect treasures.  While he has adapted to the times--he uses modern firearms and equipment, and often keeps "things of use" from the various lost civilizations he has plundered--his lust and greed for treasure has never been sated.  Estevanico has been sighted in Atlantis, in Tibet (presumably in search of the Temple of Zhu Long), the Tomb of Anubis, and even in more far-flung locales.  Each time, he plunders the locale, picking out the greatest, most beautiful, and most powerful relics...only to discard them as his curse pushes him to search out something more.

Villain of the Day:  June 6 (Ronnie RayGun)

The year is 1983.  The Cold War continues to simmer, Dexy's Midnight Runners belt out their one and only hit on every radio station, and Ronald Reagan's special security council has assembled in the vaults below the Pentagon.  Reagan's "Strategic Defense Initiative", despite the public perception of absurdity, has already begun, courtesy of another universe.

As Vice President George H.W. Bush, Secretary of State George Schultz, and Lieutenant General Daniel O. Graham debated the merits of a space-based defense system, President Reagan introduced....himself.

Claiming to hail from another dimension, Ronnie Raygun claimed to have joined a special branch of the United States military designed to counter alien threats across the cosmos.  This intergalactic FILTER had provided Raygun with a faster-than-light spacecraft capable of wormhole-based travel, a bevy of prototype weapons and armaments, and a crack team of the most hard-nosed, lethal troops culled from all branches of the military.  Proudly clapping a hand on his interdimensional double's shoulder, Reagan proudly declared Raygun to be the United States' best new defense against the threats of alien invasion.  With overwhelming support, Reagan's SDI program was launched in a manner that not even the most astute political, scientific, and military minds could have ever seen.

Since 1983, Ronnie Raygun and his troops have criss-cross the galaxy hunting down threats to the American way of life across the cosmos.  Unfortunately, though, Ronnie has little to no real grasp of the nuances involved in interstellar politics.  Rather, he often bursts in, guns-a'blazing, preferring to wipe out the leadership of any alien threat.  Barring that, Raygun takes on the age-old tactic of aiding insurgents and rebels, destabilizing existing galactic power structures and toppling centuries-old governments, regardless of their actual threat level to Earth.

Ronnie Raygun and his recruits continue to galavant across the galaxy, leaving a wake of bodies and chaos in their wake.  It may only be a matter of time before an alien race seeks retaliation against a version of Ronald Reagan that few ever knew existed...

Hey, my computer broke and I've been without one for the past couple of weeks, but I'm back. A few things:

I'm a little confused. I'm assuming the unconscious girl is the real Zivanka, but then who, or what, is Queen Killer, and how can she exist after Zivanka is dead?

That's not true. Defeating OblivAeon is what saved the multiverse, not destroyed it. The reason universe-displaced folk can't go back home is because without OblivAeon, the timelines are once again cut off from each other and there's no other way to travel between them.

Shoot! I could've saved my Midas character for this! Oh well, I have another villain I intended to write for Mechanical May before the aforementioned loss of computer, so this balances it out I guess.

I'ma start writing her now.

nods  Okay.  I think we're all still in the dark on the details of the OblivAeon event, but I'll take your word for it.  I'll be eager to hear the big Letters Page episode(s?) on OblivAeon to hear the lore as clearly as possible.

And for what it's worth, the monthly theme is an organizational theme for me, personally.  You guys shouldn't feel obligated to follow my themes at all, though if you'd like to follow suit, feel free!

Villain of the Day:  June 7 (Yorick)

A fellow of most infinite jest, the individual known as Yorick is an utter enigma on the Rook City streets.  Dressed in a gray-and-black tinted jester's motley, Yorick capers about through the back alleys and twisted side streets of the city, dealing out justice and brutality in equal measure.  While some have claimed Yorick to be a champion of the innocent, still others claim that the harlequin has been responsible for some of the most heinous killings Rook City has seen.

Of all the currently active heroes in Rook City, Expatriette has had the most interactions with Yorick.  And, by that, she means that she's actually tracked him down once.  After coming across Yorick over a group of dead gangers in an alley off of James Madison Avenue, Expatriette had Yorick dead to rights, ordering the harlequin to stand down.

Naturally, Yorick did not.  Rather, he vaulted up a fire escape, nimbly dodging between liquid nitrogen rounds, occasionally flinging throwing knives and even a skull-shaped bomb towards Expatriette.  Within the smoke and chaos, Yorick led the vigilante on a merry chase across the rooftops, eventually eluding her near the Benton-Hodges Logistics warehouses in southern Rook City.

After the fact, Expatriette did manage to piece together a few details that may provide a way to locate or unmask the harlequin.  The throwing knives Yorick used were made of a carbon-fiber alloy used primarily by German armsmakers.  This was corroborated by the weighted jester's wand she wrenched away from Yorick, which appeared to be a personally modified version of a Leistung weighted self-defense baton.  What Yorick has to do with German armsmakers remains to be seen, as well as why a jester now murders his way through the Rook City slums.

That's a fun little enigma. :D If there's any character you've created so far that I'd like to know more about...

Villain of the Day:  June 8 (Big Brother)

If it appears on your screen, he's already come for you.  The greatest threat to all those who oppose The State.  The digital eyes of Order itself.

They call it Big Brother.

The first instance of it occurring was with PurpleReignx4532.  A known hacker and anarchist, PurpleReign was reponsible for three separate data leaks, exposing peoples' sensitive data, credit card numbers, and more digital information all across the internet for easy download.  Four days before the FBI raided PurpleReign's apartment complex, the grimacing image of Orwell's Big Brother flashed across his screen.  That hour, PurpleReign simply vanished.  When the FBI arrived at the apartment, they found the loft in utter disarray, with PurpleReign's mangled corpse laid across her coffee table, a disturbing grin stretched across her face.

The same pattern followed for a number of other hackers, regardless of allegiance.  White hat security expert, black hat identity thieves, and all those in between.  Big Brother appears on their screen; within the day, that hacker is dead.  Each time, a hideous grimace across a body, broken and tortured.

The Paradigms have begun investigating into the true identity of Big Brother, but to little avail, primarily due to time.  Their continued efforts in superheroics have left little time to spare for investigations into the deaths of hackers.  Despite this, Parse had managed to track down individual packets of data, which had been scattered through a router outside of Boston.  Follow-up investigation from the Paradigms is pending though, if there are any traces of data, they may lead straight to Big Brother's true identity...

Villain of the Day:  June 9 (Shelob)

Marianne Browning was bitten by a radioactive spider.

Mind you, she had nothing to do with spiders, didn't even like spiders, and was really repulsed by the whole idea of insects ("Yes, I know they're arachnids...") in general.  But when she woke from her bed one night, feeling a sharp sting along her calf, she immediately knew what she had swatted.  Immediately, Marianne went to the bathroom of her Omaha-area apartment to clean off her hand and to clean out the bite area.

Unbeknownst to Marianne, however?  That spider was carried just the tiniest particle of Isoflux Alpha in its venom sacs.  

Three days later, in the midst of her Dungeons and Dragons game, Marianne had the strangest itch along her back.  She could hardly focus on her elven bard or the terrible combat in which she and her party were locked ("Man, I hate stirges!").  Even a friendly back-scratch from GM Nathan did nothing to alleviate it, and Marianne ended up cutting out early to take a long soak in a warm tub, hoping to put down on some calamine lotion and ease this insatiable itch.

That's when the first leg finally pushed its way through the skin of her back and emerged.  

Marianne screamed when she saw it.  Screamed bloody murder, in fact.  Within the hour, six spindly, arachnile legs had begun protruding from her torso, long enough to lift her entire body up and clamber about.  Sobbing in the bathtub, Marianne had hardly noticed her eyes begin to compound and her teeth elongate into needle-like fangs.

In thid midst of all this, Marianne's elderly neighbor, Mrs. Watson, stumbled into the poor girl's apartment.  With one look at unfortunate Marianne, huddled in the bathtub screaming, Watson collapsed to the floor, her weak heart unable to take the shock of such a hideous monstrosity.  Desperate and bawling, Marianne tried to revive the old woman, but to no avail.  In a blind panic, Marianne skuttled down the side of her apartment building and vanished into the night.

To this date, tales of "the spider-woman" still haunt urban legends throughout the Midwest.  Marianne does her best to keep to herself, but she does need to eat and, increasingly, her diet must be comprised of raw meat.  While she desperately hopes that a cure exists for this vile condition, Marianne has taken to calling herself Shelob, a mother of monsters of there ever was one.  She wanders from city to city, ever in search of someone or something that will cure her monstrous nature.

Awh. :C

Villain of the Day:  June 10  (Saul Bellow)

Things just couldn't go right for poor Saul Stilenka.  

His favorite band had announced they were breaking up.  HIs longtime, live-in boyfriend was moving out.  His job was asking for massive budgetary cutbacks, which meant that he would have to share an office with...ugh, Karen.  His beagle puppy had worms.  Even the chicken tandoori he brought for lunch had gone off, leaving him without a meal until at least 7pm.

All he wanted to do was scream.  So he did.

Heading into the mens' room on his 7th floor office building, Saul locked the door behind him and let out a yell that would sound through the ages.  Little did he know, though, that the stress he had been under had unlocked some strange genetic anomaly within him.  That yell reached 197 decibels, enough vibrational force to shatter glass, crush plastic, and deafen any poor soul unlucky enough to hear it.  

Unfortunately for Saul, that was his entire floor...and the floors above and below his...and the floors above and below that.  Computer monitors cracked and flared with sparks, his co-workers howled in deafened pain, and every window in the building had disintegrated into so much shattered glass.  Saul smiled.  Things were certainly turning around nicely.

Ever the enterprising sort, Saul decided to put his talents up for the highest bidder.  A fit enough fellow to start, his basic kickboxing classes and daily runs made him suitable for the life of a masked villain.  And, when a certain group called TALOS sought him out, well, Saul couldn't join up fast enough.

Using the code-name Bellow, Saul has refined his powers to an astonishing degree.  He can focus his sound energy to a thin cone, able to be aimed at specific targets, or create devastation for blocks surrounding him.  While TALOS has yet to deploy Saul--he's not exactly a "stealthy" character, given his unique powerset--they're sure to find some target for destruction for which Saul Bellow will sound his barbaric yawp!

Villain of the Day:  June 11 (The Limelight Department)

The original Limelight Department was one of the world's earliest film studios, producing over 300 films, starting as early as 1891.  Even as their first feature film was released--Soldiers of the Cross--the Limelight Department brought great controversy.  Depicting the brutal torture and death of Christian martyrs from the dawn of Chrstianity, the 1901 release of Soldiers of the Cross was a traumatizing event for many, inciting protests and demonstrations, with some patrons actually fainting in the aisles during the premiere.

The new group calling itself The Limelight Department has added more terror to its storied name.

Those few individuals who have survived their encounters with the The Limelight Department claim several similar stories.  A 'recruiter' descends upon a small town, claiming to be looking for aspiring actors and actresses to audition for an upcoming feature film.  One on one auditions are set, with predatory 'Producers' watching aspiring actors nervously make their first impressions.  Within days, those auditioning actors disappear, never to be seen again.  As the disappeared-person's family and friends scramble to reach police and start a manhunt, a simple brown envelope with a DVD arrives in their mailbox.  Inevitably, that DVD contains a graphic horror film...starring the missing person.

None know where the Limelight Department operate from, nor who could possibly be affiliated with such a horrific organization.  Just before aspiring triple-threat Serena Markovic disappeared, she mentioned meeting with "The Director" and getting fitted for her costume.  When police began their investigation, they found themselves on the doorstop of the local Biorama Costume Shop, with a traumatized manager nervously telling of a group of strange 'amateur filmmakers' who purchased a significant amount of costume and makeup supplies.  They, too, mentioned how much "The Director" might enjoy these props...though no reference to who that Director might be could be found.

Given his links to San Alonzo and filmmaking in general, several heroes investigating the Limeline Department have contemplated approaching Ansel G. Moreau to see if he knows anything.  However, to date, Ansel has outright refused to discuss Limelight or any disappearances that have surrounded their filmmaking practices.  Other investigations thusfar have been fruitless, which makes Ansel's reluctance to discuss Limelight all the more suspect...

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

As mentioned a few weeks back, there will be no Villain of the Day for the next few days, while I'm at the Origins Game Fair. Villain of the Day will return on Monday, June 18th!

You could almost say the Villains of the Day went Direct To Video. 

Villain of the Day:  June 18  (The Three Men)

Why is it that children's stories are always the most frightening?  While Rook City remains firmly in the unseen grip of The Chairman, so few know of his existence (much less his true identity) that the concept of an all-overseeing crime lord seems a fiction, torn from the lurid pulps of yesteryear.

The Butcher, The Baker, and The Candlestick Maker, though?  Those names could turn the hardest of Rook City criminals pale as a sheet.

Rumored to work together out of a single location somewhere in the depths of the Rook City docks, The Three Men are believed to be brothers.  As the story goes, their father was a steelworker, violent and abusive, while their mother took out her frustration and rage upon her own children when they misbehaved.  Unsurprisingly, their parents were their very first victims.  The Butcher slipped into his parents' room late one night, hacking into his parents with a small meat cleaver, fresh from the dishwasher.  The Baker, walking in on this, aided his brother in dismembering the bodies, shoving them into an already pre-heated oven.  The Candlestick Maker, though, toddled in last, aiding the pair by scrubbing the crime scene, melting down the weapon, and ensuring that no one could ever trace the crime back to them.

Today, the trio continue to work from the shadows.  The Butcher is, undoubtedly, the muscle of the group.  While he can use any number of methods of assassination, he prefers melee weapons; especially those with blades.  The Baker has become something of a pyromaniac, though he serves as the group's "body disposal" expert, preferring to cremate bodies and scatter their ashes into local riverways.  The Candlestick Maker is the least-combat-apt of the trio, often serving as a "cleaner" at the scene of The Butcher and The Baker's work, but also creating new weapons and armor for them.  

In the ruins of Rook City post-OblivAeon, with even The Organization foundering to reclaim territory, resources, and manpower, the Three Men have become so much more than a terrifying bedtime story.  As villains need insurgents or would-be heroes eliminated--particularly those that arise within the Rook City police department or similar organizations--the Three Men fall into more and more work.  And with each completed job, their legend grows...

Do the Three Men team up with Tantrum at any point? Three Men and a Little Lady, anyone?

Villain of the Day:  June 19 (Merger)

In 1943, the United States had made a massive committment of manpower to thwarting the Axis powers.  With fewer men of appropriate age, professional sports suffered.  Two NFL teams, the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Philadelphia Eagles, elected to merge their teams until the war ended, creating the "Phil-Pitt Steagles", a mashed together team which resulted in Philadelphia's first ever winning season.

The villain known as Merger, however, thought that a temporary alliance simply didn't go far enough.

Merger made her first appearance at a recent Philadelphia-Pittsburgh exhibition game.  While the teams rested their starters and gave their rookies a chance to show off, Merge made her way down to the field just as Eagles linebacker Asantay Brown dove into Pittsburgh quarterback Landry Jones for a three yard sack.  With a wave of her hand, Merger fused the pair's bodies together in a horrific melding of flesh and madness.  The Jones-Brown creature rampaged through the crowd as Merger cackled in delight.  Fourteen other players were so merged, leading to numerous casualties throughout the crowd as the fans fled Heinz Field in horror.  Merger was driven off by Pittsburgh area police and, as Merger made her escape, the hapless football players returned to their normal bodies.

Merger has appeared at a number of similar events, each reflecting some unification or display of unity.  Peace talks, corporate acquisitions, and more have all been disrupted by her foul powers, often resulting in a great deal of both trauma and loss of life.  Most horrific is when Merger herself begins grafting other beings onto herself, adding their strength and vitality to her own in a terrifying amalgamation of flesh and madness.

While she has shown no aptitude for other arcane talents or sorcery, several magically-talented heroes have noted that Merger's powers have similarity to that of both Biomancer and Hermetic.  While this has led some to believe that she is an alchemist or otherwise derives her powers from transmutation, her aims and methods are antithetical to that of nearly every villainous mage or mystic.  Instead of seeking out ancient lore or powerful relics, Merger seems utterly fixated on adding her own dash of union to a potential gathering.

And we thought Biomancer was creepy. c.c;

Villain of the Day:  June 20 (Lizzie Borden)

We all know the rhyme.  It just so happens that Serena Marchess wanted to know it just a touch better.

One of Lillian Corvus' "Dead Poets Society", Serena had always been fascinated by murder, death, and morbidity in general.  Serial killers were her especiality.  H.H. Holmes was a particular favorite, with his elaborate deathtrap of a hotel, but Serena's outright favorite was the eponymous Lizzie Borden.  In her senior English classs, Serena completed her magnum opus:  a "Thelma-and-Louise" meets "Kill Bill" rampage, featuring Borden and her rumored lover Bridget Sullivan in which the pair hacked their way through the dregs of American turn-of-the-century high society.  While particularly well-researched, Serena's work set off her teacher's alarm bells, who immediately referred her to the school's psychologist.

When Mr. Hardigan was found hacked to death in his bed, as if with a handheld hatchet, Serena immediately rose to the top of the suspects list.  However, she was nowhere to be found; a manhunt ensued.  What happened to Serena, however, was quite stranger than any investigator could have possibly gathered.

Serena's infatuation with Borden opened the teenager's mind to a Host spirit of obsession.  Believing herself to be the heir apparent to Borden herself, Serena merged with the spirit, giving herself over to otherwordly possession.  On the rare occasion when she is confronted, Serena has demonstrated a degree of telekinesis (mainly through eerie floating items), the ability to phase through walls as if a ghost, and a preternatural skill with arcanely-summoned axes.  The Harpy attempted an exorcism during one such encounter, though Serena/Borden managed to escape before the spirit could be extracted from her.  The Argent Adept came closer to success, though it very nearly cost Drake his life, as Serena sunk a hooked axe into the magician's left shoulder.

Even as Serena makes a spectral rampage across the darkest alleys of the world, the world's heroes are still at a loss as to what she actually wants.  Serena has done little to replicate the deeds of those she was so obsessed with, nor does she frequent the same haunts as her forebearers.  However, the grave of Elizabeth Short--the so-called Black Dahlia--was recently split asunder, as if smote with some massive two-handed axe...

Villain of the Day:  June 21 (The Prince)

"Never attempt to win by force what can be won by deception..."

In the wake of the lives lost during the OblivAeon event, so many power structures were smashed, so many governments and infrastructures were damaaged irreparably as to leave entire nations leaderless.  Would-be warlords and conquerers have emerged in the most unstable portions of the world, attempting to carve out their own niche from the chaos and instability.

Enter the man known only as The Prince.

Dressed in pseudo-medieval royal garb, The Prince first appeared in central Africa, claiming to be able to lead the tribal cultures there into a new golden age, putting them on par with the greatest of western powers.  While this might not be out of the norm, the fact that The Prince was a white, (presumably) American with a Midwestern accent who did not speak one iota of any African dialect, his rise to power was nearly unfathomable.  Within less than a month, The Prince had managed to consolidate power over three unique tribes, each of which had been at war with the others for decades prior to The Prince's arrival.  

The reason for this power lies, however, in The Prince's voice.  A metahuman, The Prince is a master of the spoken word:  his arguments are persuasive to the point of ultimate loyalty and subservience, his threats inspire terror beyond reason, and his scream is capable of shattering titanium alloy armor plating.  His followers, so enthralled, fight with a ferocity unseen by any outside of those utterly dominated or mindless, though both scientific and arcane testing of The Prince's subjects have demonstrated no domination of those individuals.  As such, the actual source of The Prince's power still remains to be seen.

What may be more distressing, though, is The Prince's desire for additional power.  He has been sighted in a number of other countries throughout Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and in Africa, though various international heroes have managed to thwart his efforts numerous times.  Mehit, notably, has come into conflict with The Prince, though she was unaffected by his voice while in her "obsidian giant" form, which seemed to utterly terrify The Prince, who fled the field immediately, leaving a number of followers to cover his escape.

Even still, a number of The Prince's "sleeper agents" travel the world, recruiting and influencing malcontents in global hot-spots, making the way for their Prince to conquer and rule from on high.

Villain of the Day:  June 22 (Remarque)

War.  War never changes.

Randal Kochanski had been a soldier for far too long.  Two trips to Afghanistan, one to Syria, and a United Nations peacekeeping action to the outskirts of Mordengrad, Randal had been in countless firefights, watched good men die beside him, and fought his way through situations even hardened soldiers might have balked at.

Maybe someone should have recognized Randal's state of mind.  Maybe someone slipped during his psychological evaluation, preceding his post at Fort Adamant as a weapons testing expert.  Maybe someone should have realized what Randal had truly been through, rather than looking at the medals on his chest.  Maybe the world might have been spared the horror that is Remarque.

Randal went 'off the reservation' not four months after assuming his post at Fort Adamant.  Well before the Termi-Nation event, Randal found himself knee-deep in derivatives from the Bunker project, in an attempt to create sealable infantry armor capable of overcoming biological and chemical attacks, as well as operate effectively in tear gas and smoke.  And, while Randal was hardly an engineer, he found himself in a unique position to build such weaponry directly into one of the prototype suits, despite numerous international laws against utilizing biochemical weaponry.

When Randal disappeared with the modified armor, it was a shock to nearly everyone on base.  That shock was compounded when Randal first appeared, calling himself Remarque--an homage to the ubiquitous All Quiet on the Western Front and its horrifying depictions of gas-warfare.  Randal's first target was Fort Lewis-McChord on Puget Sound.  Crashing through the main gates, Remarque was effectively able to ignore the guards' small arms fire, releasing a stream of stinging gas through the main base cafeteria.  He then made a beeline for the offices of one of his former commanders, Lieutenant Jacob Gagliardi.  As Remarque fled the base, Gagliardi was found writhing in incredible pain, his body covered in stinging welts, his eyes bleeding.  Gagliardi died four days later, his body wracked with an unknown neurotoxin.

Since that day, Remarque has actively targeted military bases, often seeking out those who he believes to have turned him into naught but a killing machine.  He has personally killed at least 3 other former commanders, as well as several other high-ranking military leaders and congressional 'war-hawks'.  No one knows where Remarque is based out of, nor how he maintains his prototype armor, though there must surely be some trail that leads back to Randal himself.

So he's… the fresh prince of bellowing air.

Villain of the Day:  June 23 (Scafuri)

Bob Dowell loved to dance.  

Even through high school, where his comrades on the football team mocked his digilant ballet- and tap-centric workouts, Bob could hardly be kept off of the dance floor.  After an injury ended his collegiate football career, dance saw him through physical therapy necessary to overcome a PCL/ACL/LCL tear in this left knee.  There was simply something about the rhythm of the motion, the sway of music, which called to him unlike any other.

This was, of course, because Bob was a nascent metahuman.  Each swing of the hips, each plie, each spin, each releve, shunted ambient kinetic energy to his limbs, increasing his strength, speed, and durability in that area.  Imagine Bob's surprise, of course, when a simple landing left a six-foot crater in the hardwood floor of his favorite dance studio!  Bob was boggled, but continued to practice in secret, often in abandoned industrial parks or vacant parking lots where none would be injured.  He soon found that the ambient kinetic weaponry, gathered unto himself through dance, made him a nearly unstoppable force of momentum, capable of kicking through steel security doors, shattering concrete blocks, or punching through hardwood planks.

When his alter-ego of Scafuri first emerged, teaming up with Ray Manta and several other D-list, wanna-be villains, Bob's friends and family were confused.  What had changed?  Bob was always an affable, energetic person, quick with a joke and always eager to share his love of music and dance.  Yet, there he was, fighting the Paradigms in the middle of a Megalopolis power plant.  Benchmark claimed, following the encounter, that Scafuri actively spoke to him, saying, "Back off, hero.  I don't want to hurt you..." before launching into a swirling salamanca that sent the New Standard flying backwards in a heap of metal.  This has given many cause to believe that Scafuri has turned to villainy not out of greed or anger, but out of some external driver, perhaps blackmail.  However, even his closest friends and family members have come up empty when trying to figure out what someone might know about Bob Dowell that might drive him to acts of villainy.

A villain with a shadowy motive? That's new...

More like a villain who’s not really wanting to be one…

And VGBM? Lose 100 xp for that joke. If you were at my table, you’d now have the Die of Shame in front of you.

Villain of the Day:   June 24  (Malachite)

Anne-Marie de Boers grew up like a veritable princess, complete with glistening tiara.

One of the heiresses to the famed de Boers gemstone mining company, Anne-Marie was raised in the lap of luxury, with servants to wait on her hand and foot, an ever-expanding wardrobe featuring all the greatest names in fashion, and more wealth than some small countries.  She didn't particularly care how the money was made--that was for her father and his number-crunching cronies--but as long as she got to spend as much of it as she wanted.  One of her favorite pieces was a diamond-studded silver tiara, inlaid with emerald and malachite.

That was, however, until Ernst de Boers came into the practice of mining and smuggling conflict diamonds.  Accused by a UN war crimes tribunal of funding insurgency (and with it, potential genocide) within several central African nations, the de Boers mining syndicate came crashing down, with most of its assets seized.  This included, naturally, the de Boers' numerous homes, much of their material wealth, and their diverse portfolio and hedge funds.  Anne-Marie was incensed.  How dare they take her things?  How dare they disrupt her livelihood?  How dare they!

While the UN International Courts began the lengthy bureaucratic process of subsuming the de Boers' holdings, Anne-Marie made her escape with a briefcase full of conflict diamonds, intending to sell to the highest bidder.  What she didn't bank on, however, was an approach from an old acquaintance of her father's:  an international financier named Cecil Kimberley.  What she further didn't realize was that Cecil Kimberley was, in fact, a member of a certain elite group known as The Annihilationists.

Seeing a potential tool for his use, Kimberley manipulated Anne-Marie into exacting her vengeance upon the international community.  Still obsessing over her lost gems, Anne-Marie provided the perfect semi-unwitting tool through which The Annihilationists could work.  Kimberley's contacts provided Anne-Marie with an armored costumes, weaponry based upon sophisticated mining lasers, and numerous hand weapons sharpened with a (industrial) diamond coating.  Anne-Marie herself provided the final touch:  the tiara she had worn since she was a teenager.  Donning that headpiece, Malachite was born.

To date, Malachite has been found in a number of high-society locales, exacting her vengeance upon both the international legal community (for destroying her life in the first place) and the idle rich of Europe and Africa (for abandoning her family in their hour of need).  While Malachite's identity was swiftly discerned, she proved quite the able combatant and was able to elude law enforcement.  Because of her actions, though, the UN International Courts have recommended transferring Ernst de Boer from his minimum security prison in The Hague to a more secure facility in France.  Some have conjectured that this might draw out Malachite, potentially leading to her arrest, though others believe that doing so might only be inviting disaster as Malachite carves off another piece for herself.

Villain of the Day:  June 25 (The Firebird, 1948 Suite)

The music was burned, the libretto purged, the very theater in which it was performed was razed to the ground.  The Vatincan swore retribution against Stravinsky, who in turn swore he would never create another copy of the blasphemous twist on his magnum opus.  However, the 1948 Firebird Suite still emerges on occasion, leaving only broken bodies and madness in its wake.

Historically, Igor Stravinsky's The Firebird had only three notable suites:  1911, 1919, and 1945.  However, in 1947, a mysterious elderly woman approached Stravinsky with a patronage and a desire for a new rendition of his masterwork.  Stravinsky was hesitant at first, but soon found himself possessed of a new creativity.  For four days and nights, he sat at his writing desk, taking only the barest breaks to relieve himself and to brew a new pot of coffee.  At the end of the fourth day, the new version was finished, with an extended epilogue focusing on the strange, surreal world of Koschei the Deathless and the Infernal Dance.

To even the most learned of musicians, the 1948 Firebird has few variations from the 1945 version, outside of the extended Second Tableau and the return to Koschei's infernal realm.  However, to those trained in both the mystic arts and educated in musical theory, a strange trend emerges:  seemingly dissonant notes, out of place within the greater musical refrains, seem to echo throughout the theater.  Each note seems to almost warp and wend reality, with the performers subtly accelerating their tempo and whirling one another into a frenzy.  By the start of the Second Tableau, all within the theater find themselves in a cult-like reverie, utterly enthralled with the music and artistry.  However, as passage 15 begins and the dancers open their gate to the realm of the Deathless One, no living witness remains.  Stravinsky himself fled the composer's stand, screaming into the night.

The massacre at the first performance of the 1948 suite left 19 dancers, 48 musicians, and over 200 attendees dead, their bodies contorted in the throes of musical ecstacy.  Stravinsky himself was questioned, but released, as investigators attempted to focus their efforts on the strange woman who commissioned the piece in the first place.  No evidence was ever found as to her identity; the name she had given corresponded only to a woman who had died in 1878.

Publicly, Stravinsky decried the work, destroying it as above.  However, his closest confidants knew that he entrusted the original sheet music from that night--snatched from his music stand as he fled--to his protoge:  Warren Zevon.  With Zevon's death at the hands of a spectral machine-gunner in 2003, some believe that Stravinsky's accursed music may well be in the hands of some nefarious forces...

Sounds like On Mount Golgotha meets the Hanged King's Tragedy. :B

...Okay, but Warren Zevon? O.o

Go take a look at Warren Zevon’s wikipedia page, if you don’t believe me. When that tidbit crossed my Pandora feed, I had to go verify it myself!

Wait, do you really have a die of shame? That's pretty cool.

Anyway, ftr I came up with this character months before reading about Shelob. It's just a coincidence, I swear!

Arachne

Sewing, knitting, crochet, just about anything that uses a thread or string, all considered dying arts, and all arts that retired Mary-Anne Stitch took a lot of pride in. So much that when the retirement home held an embriodery competition, she was certain she'd win no matter what she made. And in fact she probably would have won if she hadn't chosen to embroider a rather unflattering depiction of the adminstrator which exaggerated certain features, and if said adminitrator wasn't also the judge of the competition.

When she lost, she was so furious that, later that night, she snuck into the hall where the winning entry was being displayed and set it on fire. Of course this set off the fire alarm, but she intented to be back in her room before anyone knew what happened. However, she wasn't fast enough to avoid the sprinkling system, and got drenched in what, she couldn't have known at the time, was isophlex-alpha. Just as planned, by the time the fire department arrived, Mary-Anne was nowhere to be found, but some neighbors claimed they saw some sort of black, furred creature crawl out the window and scuttle into the night.

Some people might get humbled from turing into a horrifying spider beast, but Arachne loved her new form, especially her ability to produce threads much stronger than anything she's used before, and which she could do so much more with than mere art. Even better, she was soon after approached with the prospect of joining a team, a team whose goal was to prove its superiority over humanity. She couldn't possibly say no.

I did, immediately after reading that. Wild.

I assume the 'spectral gunner' mentioned in the bio had no head?

The Die of Shame is a hunter-orange oversized d10, with black pips instead of numbers.  It's hideous, and it's the mark of one who's either a) done something profundly dumb, or b) made a terrible joke, capable of making the table cringe.  In either case, it stays in front of you until someone does something worse...

And, strange, that spectral gunner *was* headless!  So weird...

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Villain of the Day:  June 26 (Grand Master Ulrich von Jungingen)

The first place Ulrich von Jungingen, Grand Master of the Teutonic Knights, went upon waaking up, was to the National Museum in Warsaw.

He knew who he was.  He knew how he died, fighting the Lizard Union at the Battle of Grunwald.  He even knew what had transpired since his death, for whatever reason.  His consciousness knew of Jan Matejko's accursed painting and its lies.  His first task, of course, was to consume the entire museum in flames.  

Even Ulrich himself does not know how he has managed to thwart death and cross the ages, but his mysterious return has only enflamed his zeal for the sacred mission of the (long-defunct) Teutonic Knights.  However, since arising, he has found this new era to be one of utter sacrilage and madness.  The common folk showed no decency, horrifying monsters roamed the world, lauded as heroes, and devastation rained from the sky.  Ulrich simply could not brook such blasphemies; the Teutonic Knights must be reborn.

Since that day, Grand Master Ulrich has crossed Europe and the new "America" on foot, dressed in the simple robes of a mendicant, recruiting all those of righteous indignation and able to swing a sword unto his new Teutonic Knights.  The group has established a base of operations in southern Minnesota, which resembles nothing so much as a medieval fortress, equipped and outfitted with the most modern in defense technology.

Ulrich's new Teutonic Knights have emerged to a mixed reactions.  While they have been known to help certain heroes--they have a particular affinity for Legacy and Fanatic--though their outright xenophobia has led them to attack those such as Omnitron-X, Tempest, and Sky-Scraper.  Ulrich most recently came into conflict with The Harpy, after she approached Ulrich with tales of a vision of him harboring the madman known as Apollyon.  While Ulrich has outright denied these claims, his methods have only become harsher and more sadistic as his time in this brave new world has gone on.  Whether he rises as a hero or descends into depravity remains to be seen...

Also, behold!  The Die of Shame!

Villain of the Day: June 27 (The Seven Sleepers)

The practice of meteorology has always been a tricky one, often the butt of jokes related to being "wrong 50% of time".  However, as far back as the Dark Age, man has tried to harness the elements.  None have been so successful as the beings known as The Seven Sleepers.

The only mystic chronicle of The Seven Sleepers comes from Jacob of Serugh in the Sixth Century, whose work was transcribed into a 1260 hagiography by Jacobus de Varagine.  Jacob told of seven powerful sorcerers who sought dominion over the very elements themselves.  In doing so, they renounced their faith, instead pledging their allegiance to the Islamic sorcerer and wanderer known as Am-Dhaegar (he of the eponymous Execration Texts).  Under Am-Dhaegar's tutelage, the group traveled to an unihabited island in the Baltic Sea known within the sorcerous community as a great convergence of ley-lines.

There, upon the summer solstice, Am-Dhaegar enacted the fell ritual.  Natural magic streamed into the Seven, the very elements and weather changing with each blink of the eye.  As Am-Dhagar's chant concluded, the Seven arose, brimming with arcane power.

Each of the Seven had been gifted with dominion over a natural weather effect.  Maximilian crackled with lightning, while Julius could call upon a torrential, beating hailstorm.  Antonius became as the fog, while Adonijah's breath became as powerful as a hurricane wind.  Mattius could summon a baking, searing heat, while Decius could call upon a mighty blizzard and freeze with but a touch.  The final of the Seven, known as Sodinanius, however, was most frightening of all:  he could surround himself with the veritable eye of the hurricane, creating an eerie calm which slowed time to a crawl while Sodinanius himself remained at a normal speed.  

Immediately, Am-Dhaegar knew his folly.  The sorcerer moved to flee, though the Seven surrounded him and began a relentless assault.  And, of course, while Am-Dhaegar was a gifted mage, he knew he could not stand against such chaos.  With a gasp, he levied a curse against the Seven, sealing them away within the island itself, whereupon they could only visit their wrath upon the Earth once per year:  on the summer solstice.  All other days, they slumbered away, held in place by the very ley lines from which they pull their powers.  Am-Dhaegar beat a hasty escape, leaving few mentions of his mistake.

To this day, the Seven Sleepers continue to ravage the world each summer solstice, with the Baltic regions suffering the brunt of the Seven Sleepers' wrath.  However, since the Deadline event (and the subsequential weakening of the world's ley lines), several arcanists have wondered whether Am-Dhaegar's curse could weaken to the point of breaking.  And, if that were the case, could the Seven Sleepers awaken permanently?

Villain of the Day:  June 28 (The Sunset Man)

There is a dimension as wide as space itself, as eternal as everlasting time.  It is the the zone between daylight and nightfall, between mans' greatest technologies and the oldest forgotten lore.  It calls upon the depths of ones' terror and tests the limits of his knowledge.  It is a place of dread imagination.  It is the home of The Sunset Man.

None ever truly know when they enter the realm of The Sunset Man.  The world seems normal at first, with kids on bikes riding past and all the trappings of small-town Americana on full display.  The only tell that an individual might have crossed into the realm of The Sunset Man might be some degree of anachronism.  Men and women wear clothing straight out of the 1950s.  Children play jacks and hopscotch rather than video games.  And, of course, nary a screen is to be seen. 

Within one of The Sunset Man's realms, the uncanny rules.  Everything seems just too normal, people seem too friendly.  The Sunset Man himself roams about, blending into the crowd, dressed in a black suit and pork-pie hat.  Most times, The Sunset Man seems to be content to simply observe and test those who enter his realm, though other times, he seems to incite the populace against any interlopers, quickly turning homely housewives into the literal monsters on Maple Street.  If his identity is revealed, The Sunset Man's face disappears, leaving only smooth, pale skin in its place.

The actual nature of The Sunset Man, however, remains to be seen.  Those familiar with sorcery detect no degree of arcane power or magic emanating from The Sunset Man or any of his creations.  Science reveals all to be normal within such a realm, with no evidence of any anomaly.  Some have conjectured that The Sunset Man may be an extradimensional entity, though little evidence remains to corroborate such a theory.  Rather, it remains a guess, at best.  Within his realms, he rarely shows any overt power, though any sort of mundane item or person simply seems to "appear" at his whim.  

The only known encounter between known superhumans and The Sunset Man came when Dark Watch came to investigate the disappearance of James Quincannon, the child of a Rook City socialite.  Entering what seemed to be a Rook City slum, the heroes found themselves in a quaint, 50s-era neighborhood, replete with white picket fences and soda fountains.  Therein, Setback was quick to find James, only to find that James didn't want to leave--rather, he wanted to stay, waited on hand and foot by the terrified townsfolk, as if he were some malevolent god who must be appeased.  After a lengthy investigation, The Harpy managed to break through to James telepathically, causing him to mentally dismiss the scenario and leaving the whole group dazed within an abandoned Rook City tenement.  The Sunset Man, though, was nowhere to be found.  

Fascinating! :D

Villain of the Day:  June 29  (Nimue)

Her story has been told throughout Arthurian legend, echoing down from the earliest of chronicles.  Geoffrey of Monmouth spoke of her as a fairy queen and ruler of the paradisiacal isle of Avalon.  The earliest Welsh historians referred to her as a chwyfleian, a "wanderer of pale countenance", who lured those bold enough to approach her to their deaths.

Most, however, know Nimue as the seductress and murderess of Merlin.  In truth, she was only was able to slay one Merlin:  the magus known as Myrddin Wyllt, who aided Arthur in raising the castle at Camelot and establishing the Knights of the Round Table.  However, Merlin is no person, but rather a title, passed from sorcerer to sorcerer, denoting the most gifted in the ways of the mystic arts.  She ensorcelled that Merlin, sealing him away to die within a cave near the English/Welsh border.  Nimue went on to aid those who fought against Arthur's court, eventually leading to both Arthur's and Mordred's death at Camlann.  The title of Merlin lay dormant for decades, until claimed by George Monck, the Duke of Albemarle, in 1661.

Nimue has continued to live for centuries, siphoning bits of the life essence away from Myrddin Wyllt and other occultists she has captured and entombed over the decades and centuries.  She simultaneously holds a great lust for, and a great hatred of magicians in any form, seeing them as nothing more than tools to sate her immortality.  However, when she became aware that she was not the only creature of her time to live until this strange new era, she quickly reached out to the vagabond known as Vortigern of Kent.  The pair have become fast acquaintances (and occasionally more...), as Vortigern uses his destructive antics to lure out arcanely-gifted heroes, whom Nimue can trap and feed upon.

However, for those willing to risk their very souls, Nimue can serve as a repository of occult and mystic lore.  She knows many long-hidden secrets, such as the forge upon which Excalibur was hammered, the location of the Sangraal, and the three entrances to Nilbog.  However, few who ever consult with Nimue emerge from her island as they entered...

Villain of the Day:  June 30  (The Pagemistress)

Agatha DeCarlo loved being a librarian.  Sort of.

She loved being around books.  She loved the smell of pages and bound leather.  She loved reading in the big comfy chairs in the east reading room.  She loved roaming the stacks in the archives, surrounded by stack after stack of bound books.  She loved the simple joy of sitting down with a glass of cold-brewed coffee and engrossing herself in some other world.

What she didn't love was the people.  The constant chattering.  The children running back and forth within the stacks with their grubby fingers.  The pudgy housewives asking where they could find the newest bodice-ripper.  The whinging teenagers, complaining about the research papers they had procrastinated on.  The utterly useless volunteers, who couldn't be trusted to find anything in the stacks if their lives depended on it.

Let there be no mistake.  Agatha was a misanthrope, through and through.  Her coworkers detested working with her, but even after her shifts would end, Agatha would stay on, drinking her coffee and reading from the stacks.  But when one of those 'inept' volunteers stumbled upon Agatha's greatest shame--the fact that she had stolen tens of thousands of the library's books, hoarding them for herself in her house.  While the library did not press charges against Agatha, they did confiscate their lost books and fire the angry woman, who cursed the whole group the entire time.

However, little did that library staff know, but Agatha's daily cold-brewed coffee served to be something more.  In this age of miracles and madness, a particle of that mysterious Isoflux Alpha made its way into her drink, leaving the old woman...changed.  

When The Pagemistress first arrived on the scene, her old place of employment was totally unprepared for what was happening.  The three-story library was first besieged by flying monkeys, straight out of that Oz book.  As the Miriam, the head librarian, went to call animal control, she found her office all but gone, replaced with a fiery furnace room which belched toxic smoke and searing flame.  The library entire had turned into a funhouse of literary allusions, each room reflecting one of Agatha's favorite books.  Agatha had been gifted with the power to summon constructs, lifted directly from the pages of any novel within her proximity.

When heroes arrived on the scene, believing themselves to be in the midst of another Dreamer event, they were stunned to find a 60-year-old woman, lounging in the midst of the chaos, sipping on a coffee, totally unaware of their prescence.  When confronted, Agatha played the fool, allowing the heroes to escort her "to safety" even as she maintained her hold on the constructs, battling the heroes (and her former co-workers all the while).  Only after Agatha had fled into the bustle of Megalopolis did anyone piece together that she might have been behind anything.

However, Agatha recently received a most wonderful birthday present from her great-niece/god-daughter:  a brand new e-reader, loaded with all of her favorite open-domain books...

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And, with that, we come to the end of Homage June! 

You know what?  It's hot out.  Damned hot.  It's over 85 degrees outside as I'm writing this, well after sunset.  It's high time we did something about this heat!  Tomorrow, we start Elemental July:  a month of characters who control, manipulate, summon, or become the forces of nature itself!

Welcome to Elemental July, wherein we feature characters capable of controlling the very elements around them!

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Villain of the Day:  July 1 (Heatsink)

Alberto Silva hated his job.

A line cook at a counter-service noodle joint, he spent every day of his working life in front of either an infrared burner, boiling noodles or sauteeing sausage, or in front of a heat lamp, dropping off food for the counter clerks to dish up into the hapless masses after a cheap meal and sub-standard italian food.

However, a seemingly normal night behind the line triggered a permanent change for Alberto.  While working one of the infrared burners, a short in the electrical line caused the burner to flare.  Instinctively, Arturo reached to pull the pan from the heat, which surged with heat and electricity.  Something in that shock triggered a change in Arturo's bioelectrical system; he could use his bioelectrical system as a conduit to change ambient electrical energy into pure infrared radiation.  At first, Arturo could hardly notice, though the other line cooks often complained of the heat within the kitchen while Arturo was working.  

All that changed, though, came on a single fateful night while Arturo was working the late shift.  While he cleaned up the line, three thugs in ski masks burst through the door, demanding the register.  One of them held Christine, the register girl, at gunpoint while the others cleaned out the register and the restaurant safe.  Flying into a rage, heat seared from Arturo's hands and eyes, slamming into the crooks in tangible beams.  Within seconds, he had not only incapacitated the crooks, but had also increased the ambient temperature of the store itself to over 140 degrees.  Both Christine and their manager, Rudolf, were slumped over, passed out from heat exhaustion.

In that very instant, Arturo made a decision that has shaped the rest of his life.  Glancing around nervously, he grabbed the bag of cash that the robbers had so hastily compiled, and he dashed into the night.

Since that fateful evening, Arturo has made his mark, knocking off liquor stores, mini-marts, and other convenience stores under the street name of Heatsink.  When confronted by police, he has managed to escape each and every time, with officers often suffering from severe burns and heat stroke.  Ironically, the only time Heatsink has ever been approached by a hero, it was maybe the worst possible hero suited to apprehending a heat-based hero:  Absolute Zero.  As quickly as Ryan could sling ice and frost, Arturo dispersed it with naught but a gesture and a wave of heat.  Taking cover, Absolute Zero called in for backup, but by that time, Arturo was well and truly gone.

That chance encounter, however, has only emboldened Heatsink in his efforts, and he has actively begun seeking out other profit-motivated villains with which can ally.  The world has truly yet to see the true capacity of what Heatsink is capable of...

Villain of the Day:  June 2 (The Sculptor)

The first art student to go missing was Deanna Kahl.  A biochemistry student at Megalopolis State University, Deanna always had a nose for a 'side-hustle'.  She filled out surveys for the psychology department at $5 a pop, she had a 5-star rating as an Ultra driver across campus, and she worked in two separate campus offices.   When the art department called for models at the rate of $50/hour, Deanna jumped at the chance.

Now, Deanna had no major issues with her body and wasn't afraid to go nude, so when an additional opportunity came up, written in plain Times New Roman font and tacked to the art department corkboard, she immediately called the number.

Deanna's body was not found for sixteen days, until a life-size limestone statue of Deanna appeared on the quad, with her corpse draped across the statue's lifeless arms.  Crime scene investigators and foresnsic analysts determined that Deanna was suffocated slowly, with a residue of sand covering her entire body.  Not a hand was laid on her; Deanna's body showed no signs of trauma beyond that of her suffocation.  However, something was particularly notable about the statue of her:  the stone Deanna was entirely bereft of sculptor's markings.  No chisel, no mason's tools had touched the stone.  Even the lone inscription at the base of the statue--"Beauty forever immortalized"--seemed to have been pressed into the limestone as if someone had written in wet concrete with their finger.  But even then, the limestone was structually solid--a masterpiece, assembled if someone had shaped the very stone like clay.

Since that first incident, The Sculptor has struck on at least four occasions.  In each case, a model disappears; within two weeks, a masterpiece-sculpture made of solid, uncut stone appears alongside the corpse of the missing model.  Each sculpture bears that same dread appellation, "Beauty forever immortalized".  

>tfw Ultra drivers :D

Villain of the Day:  July 3 (The Wet Bandit)

Rook City police, as per usual, were baffled.

However, this crime seemed to actually have a mystery behind it, as opposed to the RCPD's usual "shrug and walk away" strategy, typically on the take from the Chairman and his flunkies.  

The stage?  The Overbrook Museum of Natural History.  The objects in question?  A series of rare geodes, harboring a notable hexahedral quartz crystal formation seen only in some of the deepest parts of the earth.  The twist?  The the floor surrounding the entire geology wing was soaked in water, as if a pipe had burst above the wing, drenching the whole area.  However, no such leak existed.

Rather, as a private investigator later found out, the robbery came at the hands of--as the RCPD called her, named after that terrible Macauley Culkin movie--The Wet Bandit.  However, when The Night Hunter first encountered her, breaking into an industrial diamond-making firm, he was hardly prepared for what he found. 

The so-called Wet Bandit appeared to be a nude or near-nude woman, with long flowing hair...though her body, hair, and every part of her was made of free flowing water.  Shouting a 'stop!' from the neighboring rooftop, Ansel watched as her liquid form slithered across the rooftop and bodily slammed into him, nearly knocking him from the roof entirely.  Then, just as quickly, she flowed off into some crevice, disappearing from sight.  By the time Ansel had pulled himself back atop the roof, she was gone.

However, the case had been cracked and a lure was set.  Working with Dark Watch, Ansel set up another rare gem exhibit at a similar museum and waited.  Sure enough, the Wet Bandit appeared, literally flowing into the museum through the museum's water main.  As she made her move, The Night Hunter, Expatriette, and The Harpy made their move.  However, after the first salvo of liquid nitrogen rounds, something strange happened.  The Wet Bandit turned, peered quizzically at Expatriette and asked, "Amanda?!"  But as Expatriette made to reply, the Wet Bandit disappeared.

Since that day, Expatriette has pored over her voluminous files on the Citizens of the Sun, trying to figure out who might have become the Wet Bandit, though she's reached no true conclusion.  The mystery of the Wet Bandit's true identity remains just that:  a mystery.

I guess she's not Calypso, then. :B

Villain of the Day:  July 4 (Sparkler)

Gwendolyn Fineman loved fireworks.  The bright colors, the smell of charcoal and ozone on a warm summer night.  But most of all, she loved that sound.  The whistle of a Roman candle as it streaked across the sky; the quick pop and crackle of a bottle rocket; and the thunderous *CHOOM* of a mortar shell as it exploded across the sky.  Above all others, she loved the grand finale:  that momentous cacophony when the midnight sky became as daylight and the darkness itself gave way to an apocalypse of light.

In hindsight, that should have been the first tip-off that Gwen wasn't quite right.

By sixteen, Gwen had been in juvenile hall no less than four times on fire-related charges, includin an arson charge surrounding a neighbors' garage, which swiftly spread to their house.  Gwen's parents had no idea of what could be done; therapy hadn't helped her, incarceration did nothing.  Worse, Gwen seemed to revel in the chaos and carnage her fires had caused.  But worst of all?  Gwen had a secret that she had managed to keep from everyone the entire time.  Gwen was a metahuman.

As far back as age 8, Gwen had the ability to charge items with pyrokinetic energy, causing them to overload in a phenomenal burst of red-purple flame.  She had become her very own fireworks show, a living Sparkler.  The larger the object--or, alternatively, the longer she manipulated the object--the larger and more damaging the burst would become.  The Sanders' garage was the first time she'd ignited anything larger than a breadbox--this time, she'd snuck in and detonated Mr. Sanders' prized '68 Masterati.

Upon reaching 18, Gwen's records have been expunged, but more than a few villainous organizations have managed to piece together exactly how Gwen had managed to start all of these fires as well as what the true nature of the the fires entailed.  To date, Gwen has taken jobs for CRETIN, TALOS, and the Slaughterhouse Six, accruing a small fortune in mercenary jobs.  One of her favorite tricks is to use a ball-launcher--the long, flexible piece of plastic typically used to throw balls for dogs in the park--to launch incindiary projectiles much farther than she can typically throw.  Sparkler is still at large, bombastic costume and all, though her bombastic nature surely won't keep her out of the spotlight for long.

Villain of the Day:  July 5 (Blowhard)

Reginald "Reggie" Milligan made his living on the airwaves.  For years, he'd been a right-wing commentator on a Megalopolis-area AM radio station, though he had finally signed a contract on ZM's "National Liberator" station, giving him his first real big break.

Now, Reggie had always made his bones with the most outlandish of political theories.  These ranged from liberal anarchists raiding a chain of sandwich shops to steal provolone cheese to the embezzlement of funds from Megalopolis infrastructure in order to fund a series of low-freqency broadcast antennas meant to manipulate the brain waves of citizens in preparation for a Maenarian invasion.  Needless to say, Reggie was the laughing stock of any outside of the most feverish of right-wing patriots.

With the opening of a new GLOBAL station in northern Megalopolis, Reggie was more than prepared to stage a protest outside the new location.  What he didn't bank on was a freak rainstorm, much less one that just so happened to contain a particle of Isoflux Alpha.

Standing in the rain, ranting and raving about left-wing conspiracies, Reggie was astounded as his mouth burst forth in a massive torrent of wind.  The louder and faster he ranted, the stronger the force of the wind.  Within moments, Reggie's tirade burst forth in hurricane-force winds, capable of shearing off trees and shattering windows.  As dignitaries and well-wishers fled the scene, Reggie continued his onslaught, hurling insults and wind in equal measure.

Since that day, Reggie has made his powers available to all manner of right-wing forces, including a number of known villains, including White Noise and The Survivalist.  While not subtle by any stretch of the imagination, that Blowhard always has a great deal to say.

Villain of the Day:  June 6 (Sponge)

Tim Ellis didn't plan on ever turning his unique abilities into a supervillainy, but it just so happened that it provided him quite the methodology.

You see, Tim was something of a human Sponge.  If he focused, Tim could absorb a massive amount of liquid--the current upper limits of Tim's powers are still yet unknown; the largest amount absorbed comprised the entirety of the Lindsay Chipman Reservoir, though he could only hold that much for a few minutes before releasing it.  Tim could hold that liquid within himself (or, more accurately, within a self-contained paradimensional space), then expel it at a later time.  Further, he could control the expulsion at any rate, from a slow trickle to a powerful geyser.  For years, this was a simply party trick for friends and family.  

However, a friend of a friend caught wind of Tim's party trick and offered him a deal he couldn't refuse:  absorb a still of homemade moonshine and walk it across state lines, so that it could be bottled.  Tim, having been eyeing up a new car for a while, and the three thousand dollars he was offered would make for a an ideal down payment.  Of course, with his unique abilities, this sort of smuggling was as discreet as one could ever imagine, and as easy as a Sunday drive.  These routes become a once-weekly outings, with sizable payouts each time.  

And, that's where Tim's greed got the better of him.  Under his street name of Sponge, Tim became the foremost in criminal smuggling.  Anything even remotely liquid could be transported across state and national borders with none the wiser, as Tim racked up the frequent flyer miles.  Within months, Tim had quit his day job, living the high life during the week, and spending his weekends ferrying illegal alcohol, narcotics, and more across borders.  After his first year, he had smuggled his first batch of rocket fuel, his first bioweaponry agent ("That one gave me a bit of heartburn, I'll be honest."), and his first batch of napalm.  It was on the last of those when he came into conflict with GLOBAL for the first time.  That incident led to the horrific burning deaths of fifteen GLOBAL agents before Sponge and his handlers made their escape.  While Sponge is now on their radar, Tim's non-descript appearance and lack of an official criminal record have led him to be difficult to track...

Villain of the Day:  July 7 (Excavator)

So many villains, so many secret societies...how do they manage to create bases, bunkers, hideaways, and strongholds?  The answer, of course, is Excavator.

Sandra McGinnis always was a touch jealous of those with 'true' superhuman abilities.  While born with the extraordinary ability to shape and re-crystallize earthen materials, she found that her abilities worked much too slowly to be of much use in combat.  Rather, her abilities seemed utterly useless for anything beyond parlor tricks.

That is, until she met Sean Dougal.  Sean was a contractor with a major San Alonzo-based construction firm who had come into contact with Sandra shortly after her high school graduation.  He offered her quite the deal:  change her major to architecture, complete her coursework and certifications, and she could walk into a job as head architect with his firm.  Sandra was confused until Sean escorted her around one of the work-sites for his constrution firm.  As they walked, he illustrated, "Excavation takes days, with all this equipment.  Then we need to pour footers; that's four trucks, over the course of a full week.  Then concrete pillars...all of which you could do in a day or two."

Sandra's eyes lit up.  Over the course of the next four years, she excelled in her coursework, graduating magna cum laude and with all manner of academic honors.  When she joined Sphinx Construction, she was the talk of the company....until the layoffs came.  After it became apparent that Sandra's talents all but replaced dozens of workers, Sphinx found themselves rolling in both profits and jobs, easily able to undercut any other construction or excavation bid in the region.  That, of course, is when the protests started.  The construction workers' union filed a civil suit against Sphinx for eliminating so many jobs, claiming that doing so violated the terms of their extant collective bargaining agreement.  Sphinx countered, arguing that Sandra was able to provide a service not replicable by any of the given workers, though it was clear that the writing was on the wall.  Sandra was given a hefty severance package, but found herself blackballed within the construction industry.

Operating as an independent contractor, Sandra proceeded to hire herself out to private individuals as an excavator, but she quickly grew frustrated with such work.  One job--a bomb shelter for a somewhat off-his-rocker doomsday prepper--piqued her interest, but that was a brief foray.  However, not long afterwards, another individual called, asking about the possibility of a bunker.  Then another, regarding the foundations for a castle in the Pacific Northwest.  Then, an underground laboratory space.  One after another, the job offers rolled in, and The Excavator, as she came to be known, became a very rich woman.

Sandra will be the first to admit.  She's hardly a threat and she's not interested in fighting anyone.  What her clients do or don't do with their new homes was entirely up to them.  She's purely the architect of destruction.

Villain of the Day:  July 8 (Shifter)

Progeny's deadly march from Rook City to Megalopolis caused irrevocable damage and a staggering loss of life.  When Progeny was finally defeated, while facing down a veritable legion of Earth's heroes, his head rocketed off into the cosmos, leading to a chase across the galaxy as KNYFE attempted to finally destroy the OblivAeon-spawned scion.

Dani Delaney had a front row seat to that climactic fight.  A Megalopolis native for years, Dani found themselves trapped in their apartment as the city itself shook with the thunder of battle.  Thinking quickly, Dani made for a fire escape, only to have that escape plummet three stories and nearly shake them off to a messy death.  Barely making it to the ground, Dani found themselves not 10 feet away from the battle itself, as the heroes landed their final onslaught.

Dani was among the first to congratulate the heroes, as Progeny's body steamed and dissipated away on the ground.  As police, fire, and paramedic crews rushed in, the liquid body of Progeny washed away...at least as far as anyone could tell.  Dani, however, learned otherwise.  Unwittingly, she had walked right through a puddle of Progeny-ooze, with molecules of it almost instantly retreating into their skin.

Shifter's appearance a few years after the OblivAeon affair was more than startling, due to its similarity to Progeny.  However, Shifter had several notable differences:  firstly, Shifter could not seem to remain in any given elemental form for more than 30 seconds to a minute.  Most often, Shifter would manifest several elemental forms at once:  its right arm would be surrounded in flame, while its left was oversized and rocky.  Within seconds, the stone had shifted to mist, and then to noxious fumes, while the right became as ice.  

However, Felicia Parsons was present for both fights...and she remembered Dani.  Calling out, she attempted to convince Dani into returning to their normal form.  She succeeded...for a moment.  Dani's face emerged from the constantly shifting elements, as they fell to their knees, crying.  "Please, help me..." Dani sobbed, "I can't stop.  I just want to be me again..."

Shifter fled the scene as the influence of the cosmic-madness overtook Dani once more.  The Sentinels of Freedom attempted to follow, but lost them in Megalopolis' labyrinthine sewer system.  Neither Shifter nor Dani has been seen since.

Neeeeaaaaat. :D

Villain of the Day: July 9 (The Man in the Ice)

He first appeared as the Greenland glaciers gave way. Almost imperceptible within a massive mound of floating sea ice, The Man in the Ice floats across the Arctic Seas, with no motion, no destination, no hint of who he is or what he might be doing.

Scientists who have studied the iceberg note that he has demonstrable life signs. His heart beats once every 3 minutes. He does not breathe, but he has blinked. Twice. However every effort to study him in depth meets with failure: storms, shipwrecks, madness and despair all cloud the various efforts to excavate The Man in the Ice.

Some have surmised that the Man is cursed, with several sorcerers noting a set of nigh-untranslatable runes carved in the underside of the ice. While the full passage had no known translation, one word has made it through. In a form of the ancient Lemurian, the ice is emblazoned with the word “Heretic”.

(Sorry on the short one yesterday--I've been under the weather since Sunday...)

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

Villain of the Day: July 10 (Refractor)

Dr. Thomas Dowell was an invisible man.

An opthamologist by day, Thomas spent his days sitting in the dark, asking patients whether 1 or 2 were clearer, whether they could see the farmhouse out in the distance, or to read the fourth line down.  Every day blurred together.  He had no hobbies, no major love interests, no children.  His friends had scattered across the country.  He drove a gray sedan which blended right into traffic, and his fifteen minute commute often passed with no incidents.  Even his lunch was bland, often turkey and provolone on white, with just a touch of mayo.

As such, it may not be that surprisingly that Thomas actually became invisible.  That Tuesday--a cloudless winter day, with a cold and biting wind, Thomas drove into his office and began setting up his equipment.  However, this Tuesday, his assistant came walked in, glanced around the room, then left, calling "Dr. Dowell?  Dr. Dowell, did you leave?"  Thomas poked his head out of the door, claiming (truthfully) to have been within the entire time.   Daria shook her head, "I could have sworn that your exam room was empty...I was just in there."

That whole day, light seemed to work strangely around Dowell.  While diliting a patient's eyes, the light from his pocket flashlight bent around his fingers, almost like a pair of brass knuckles.  While on a break between patients, he stared intently at his desk lamp, which began to focus its light to the point where it caused a notepad on his desk to burst into flame.  Thomas had, in fact, become a human Refractor, able to bend and manipulate light with but a thought.

With newfound power in hand, Thomas' life became anything except normal.  Rather, Thomas became riotous and borderline-manic.  His powers enabled him to focus light down to a laser-like focus capable of dealing damage, warp and distort light to disorient opponents, and (if he stood particularly still) refract light around himself to become invisible.  For once in his life, Thomas had something that set him apart.  Reveling in his new life, Thomas immediately thought to join the Citizens of the Sun--"they're different, just like me!  They're beyond normality!"--but Citizen Dawn's defeat at Insula Primalis made that an impossibility.  However, as Hammer and Anvil begin recruiting once more in the wake of OblivAeon, Refractor may seek them out sooner than later.

Hope you feel better today!

I am, thank you. Don’t ask me how I ended up with a sinus infection in July, but I’m pretty well over it now.

Villain of the Day:  July 11 (Iniquity)

As he walks, he casts no shadow.  That's how you can tell him apart, they say.

The creature known as Iniquity was first located following a rash of disappearances at Kingsport State University.  Professor Arnold Madigan, chair of the anthropology department, had gone missing, along with a number of his graduate students.  While some believed this to be some sort of strange, spur-of-the-moment field trip, administration had other ideas.  And, when Emily Zarkonen was found four days later on the campus lawn, screaming about some creature eating the shadows, a manhunt for Madigan and the remaining students began in earnest.

Madigan's body was never found.  However, one by one, the graduate students began trickling in over the course of the next few weeks.  Not one of them, Emily included, cast any shadow.

From the students' testimony, detectives began to piece together what had happened.  Some black-cloaked creature, all too many teeth and claws, had kept them in a system of caverns underneath the Kingsport area.  Therein, over the course of a week, it subjected the students and Madigan to a psychic hellscape, inducing their worst fears over and over again.  Even on solid ground once more, Emily trembled with each step, as if she were about to fall from high tightrope.  Another student, JaRog, constantly scratched at his arms, claiming that he could feel something crawling just under their skin.  

Realizing the strangeness and esoteric nature of the crime, the Kingsport PD turned the case over to Dark Watch, who in turn set The Harpy on the case.  While no sorcerous record exists that details Iniquity itself, several texts link the human shadow to that of an alternate-self linked directly to human fears and insecurities.  Were a creature to directly feed upon those shadows, the arcane power available to the eater would be incalculable.  What's more, though, The Harpy detected something truly anomalous.  Madigan's anthropological work, which his graduate students had been assisting with, dealt with a sect of the Cult of Gloom believed wiped out during the late 1500s.  Atop Madigan's syllabus itself, though?  None other than an English translation of the Grimoire of Curses...

Villain of the Day:  July 12 (Firewalker)

Heidi Brennan was hardly the ordinary girl next door.  Raised by circus performers with the Ledbetter Brothers Three Ring Extravaganza, her parents spent the majority of any given year on tour.  As such, Heidi spent her days around lion-tamers, trapeeze artists, and juggling clowns.  Her parents, Frank and Becca, though, were fire eaters.  They performed various vapor tricks, such as blowing fireballs, extinguishing flames, fire-twirling, and "The Exotic Wonder of India:  the Crossing of Coals!"

While Heidi was given a traditional education, she knew she was ready to enter the family business.  As early as 14, she was fitted for a purple-sequinned leotard and started learning to walk across hot coals.  Now, while Frank and Becca, kept safety a highest priority, it quickly became apparent that something was particularly strange about Heidi.  Despite near daily exposure to open flame, she never blistered, her hair never charred, and she never received so much as a flash burn.  Heidi seemed completely impervious to flame.

At seventeen, Heidi joined her parents act on a trial basis and became an instant hit.  Her skill with the so-called "dragonstaff" and fire whips left audiences in awe, and her ability to dance and perform on the hottest fiery coals left audiences agog.  However, he piece-de-resistance became the trick she became best known for:  Heidi could leap literally into a roaring bonfire and emerge, completely unharmed, in a similar fire elsewhere.  Heidi was a literal Firewalker, able to teleport through open flames.

However, despite her impressive performances, Heidi alone was not enough to save the Ledbetter Extravaganza.  Owing massive debts to The Organization, who fronted the Ledbetter brothers money to legitimately purchase exotic circus animals, the circus declared bankruptcy.  However, that alone was not enough for The Chairman and his enforcers.  Both Gregg and Clark Ledbetter were found dead in a mysterious car accident three months after the bankruptcy, with another of their associates found dead of a heroin overdose a month after that.

Heidi was incensed.  Rage burned in her, hotter than any flame spun within her hands.  Her parents did their best to talk her down, to get a normal job, to leave the past behind, but Heidi was consumed.  Striking out on her own, the Firewalker has become a noted arsonist throughout Rook City, directly targeting areas frequented by Organization thugs.  Firewalker has been accosted by heroes on a number of occasions, though her stage training with various weapons, plus her tendency to confront these heroes within the still-burning target sites, has kept her on the lam for months on end.  Currently, The Chairman has set a $2m bounty on the Firewalker's life; it may only be a matter of time until Heidi's dreams go up in smoke.

Villain of the Day:  July 13 (Antaeus)

He claims to be one of the original Atlanteans, trapped and slumbering within a sphere of water deep within the bowels of now-ruined Atlantis.  He brooks no shame in his deeds, building a temple to the sea god Poseidon with the skulls of Atlanteans, Lemurians, and Thulians alike.  

He calls himself Antaeus.

Mythology remembers Antaeus as an opponent of Heracles, who confronted the belabored hero while Hercules sought the path to the Garden of the Hesperides.  Antaeus challenged Heracles, as he had with so many other travelers, to a wrestling contest.  Legend tells that, over the course of the match, Heracles learned Antaeus' secret:  by lifting the warrior off the ground, Antaeus lost contact with the earth, from which he drew his phenomenal strength.  Throughout antiquity, statues of Heracles lifting and crushing Antaeus to death featured across the Old World.  

Naturally, the fact that Antaeus still exists in this brave new world stands as testament to the fact that legend is not always based on truth.

On the rare occasions where Antaeus has emerged in the modern world, he inevitably seeks out the largest, the strongest, and the most physically powerful heroes he could possibly challenge.  Haka fought Antaeus to a standstill in the Ruins of Atlantis before Harka's disappearance, though the sudden appearance of a kraken disrupted the clash, allowing Antaeus to escape.  Since that day, Antaeus has grappled with Fanatic, Legacy, KNYFE, and The Hippo at various points, with the only clear victory for either side coming with Antaeus triumphing over The Hippo.  On all occasions, the longer that Antaeus stays in contact with earth, soil, or stone, the stronger he grows.  With some degree of effort, Antaeus can even armor himself with earth, covering himself in a rock-like carapace which exponentially increases his durability.

In recent days, some of the Sentinels of Freedom historians have suggested the possibility of seeking out Antaeus to serve as a resource:  that he might be able to provide true, accurate information as to the fall of Atlantis and its wars with Lemuria and Thule.  However, it is not likely that Antaeus would be willing to simply 'discuss' the ancient empires in any capacity...at least not unless he could be bested in a challenge!

Meh, I'll stick with the original.

Man, everyone beats the Hippo, that don't make you special! :V

Hence the only clear victory…

Besides, my dude is the actual Antaeus; threat other one is just a statue come to life. It’d get smashed posthaste!

Villain of the Day: July 14 (Toxic)

Outside of a single incident with The Naturalist and Akash’Thriya, Professor Pollution has always been something of a laughingstock within the rogues gallery of the Multiverse. While her powers are formidable (and could be devastating inthe right hands), her general ineptitude for villainy and the outright absurdity of her plans ("really, you want to steal the whole Atlantic Ocean? The whole thing?) have led her to continual prison time and a number of hero-based concussions.

No longer.

After a long prison stint, Pollution decided that the true difficulty with her plans had been the lack of assistance. Toxic was her answer to this. Chartering a boat to the middle of the Pacific, Pollution enacted a ritual purchased from Hermetic atop the great mound of plastic floating in the ocean. The ritual, which would normally summon a water elemental, was corrupted by Pollution and the region of the summoning. Rather than a flowing blue elemental, Toxic emerged as a lurching, dripping monstrosity which gave off a stench that could make a pig farmer run for the toilet.

Toxic made its first appearance with Pollution in Rook City not long after the OblivAeon event ended, as Pollution sought to take advantage of the carnage by stealing a rare set of radioactive isotopes from a local chemistry laboratory. When Dark Watch showed up on the scene, things seemed to be going as per usual for Professor Pollution, up until Toxic charged through a wall, flinging Mister Fixer across the building and sending Expatriette soaring for cover from a corrosive spray. Setback, as his wont, charged ahead, only to find himself neck deep in the filth and excrement that made up Toxic. Pollution made her escape and, as Dark Watch regrouped to renew the assault, Toxic flowed away down a staff toilet.

Since that day, Pollution and her new partner have made several successful heists, leaving their targets a stinking, reeking mess afterwards. There may be more dangerous villains in the multiverse, but few are certainly as foul…

Today's villain of the day: With a taste of your lips I'm on a riiiiide~

Leave Britney alone!!!

Y'know, I had just gotten that song out of my head this morning. >:V

Villain of the Day:  July 15 (Wrest)

Tatiana Malloy never intended to rob that first bank.  She didn't even take anything that day.  But once the press gets hold of a metahuman ability like hers, hype and tabloid publicity did her the kind of favor that you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy.

You see, Tatiana hated going to the bank.  While she was perfectly fine with Central United Trust's online service, she found herself having to go into the bank in person each month to move funds from her business savings account--Tatiana turned her side hobby of crochet into a semi-profitable Squeetzy store--over to her personal checking account.  No matter the hour, the bank always seemed to move as slow as possible, with pensioners filling out forms and listening to canned spiels about reverse mortgages, and some inevitable fool in front of her who wanted to cash in a massive jar of change.  That Thursday, though, Tatiana's frustrations just seemed to boil up around her.  Her boss saddled her with an unwanted project, Jerry from the third floor had taken her lunch by accident, and the bank was simply taking longer than ever.  Fuming, Tatiana tried to play a game on her phone, tried to inventory her yarn from memory, but nothing seemed to abate her anger.

That's when the vault door ripped itself off its hinges and soared towards her.  Reflexively, Tatiana threw up an arm as she dropped to the floor and covered her heard.  The vault door simply hovered above her arm, as faint blue discs of energy flickered above her fingertips.  Standing up, she found that she was able to move aside the steel door with ease...until one of the cashiers slammed his hand into the alarm button.  "No!  I'm not doing this on purpose!  I'm not stealing anything!" Tatiana protested, turning to face the cashier.  As she did so, though, the vault door spun away from her, slamming through three walls and into the exterior brick facade of the Groovie Smoothie store next door.  Crying in panic, Tatiana ran.

Now on the run from police, Tatiana took the first bus out of town, heading for her parents' Colorado ranch.  While her parents were at their summer home in Boca, Tatiana knew that she could find some privacy and let things settle down while she figured out what was really going on.  As it turned out, the stress of her bank encounter had unlocked a dormant metagene in her, allowing her to channel her natural bioelectricity into highly focused magnetic fields.  Such a field, as she soon realized, could be used to Wrest a vault door from its hinges, repulse metallic projectiles, and even turn herself into a living railgun, capable of guiding even the simplest objects into a deadly missile.

Already on the run, Tatiana took stock of her situation.  The press in Megalopolis were all over her already; headlines read "Central United Falls Beneath Metahuman Mayhem", with the surveillance footage showing her from the rear, holding the vault door aloft with her newfound power.  At that point, a decision needed to be made.  She could turn herself into the authorities, take responsibility for the carnage at Central United Trust, and likely get locked away for years....or she could steer into the skid.  The Colorado Springs bank where Wrest first appeared never knew what hit it; even when police arrived on scene, they found themselves under a phenomenal barrage of swirling, stinging nickels which beat upon them like a summer hailstorm.  Tatiana made her escape that day with over $600,000 in cash.  Four more banks came in swift succession, followed by a technologies lab and a private vault.  A new metahuman criminal was born...

Villain of the Day:  July 16 (Pallor)

To be clear, the creature currently referred to as Pallor has no known name.  Every believed investigative lead, every arcane scrying, every scientific testing, have all led to precisely nowhere.  Pallor's true identity remains a mystery.

With that said, there are a number patterns that have emerged upon Pallor's continued appearances, which has kept the case open as to this strange being.

Pallor appears as a featureless hominid with a vaguely feminine form made up entirely of wispy grey-black ash.  It is most often sighted roaming through areas of intense devastation, particularly those brought on by fires or radiation.  Pallor has been sighted a number of times in the ruins of San Alonzo, in burned out buildings in Rook City, and even in the foundation of the former Freedom Tower.  

If undisturbed, Pallor does not regard anyone who observes it.  It simply walks (floats?) through the area, pacing as if looking for something.  If disturbed, however, Pallor shrieks with an unearthly noise and immediately moves to attack any interloper.  While Pallor is incorporeal, it manifests gale force winds laden with choking, biting ash and soot capable of choking the life out of anyone lacking protection.  Pallor rarely attacks for longer than a few minutes, before fleeing into the wind, utterly discorporating before it can be trapped or incapacitated.

Some have theorized that Pallor might be some sort of ghost or otherworldly entity, the truth is actually somewhat stranger.  Pallor is actually no less than four separate alternate universe individuals, conflated together as realities began merging through the OblivAeon event.  Pallor's ever-shifting consciousness continually morphs between The Morrigan (a warrior-woman who channels the might of a Celtic amulet), Sirocco (an aerokinetic who joined her reality's Freedom Seven, Mistwalker (an infiltration expert and thief, held in the Freedom Nine's power-dampening cells), and Doug Berhold, a bystander trapped beneath a girder when a nearby building collapsed.  Because of this conflation, readings and scrying have been utterly fruitless.  Were someone to learn Pallor's true nature, perhaps this strange elemental creature may yet be separated into its portioned individuals...

Good thing that technology villain I forgot to write a couple months ago happens to fit here too.

Lampyridae

It started with a problem, and a solution.

In the wake of OblivAeon, when Megalopolis was facing its energy crisis, Isabell Klein, full-time science teacher and part-time inventor, beleived she could be the one to fix it. It just so happened that one of the many invention ideas she worked on in her spare time was one that conserved energy by alternating between thermal and electric. High on the idea that she could be the person who saved the city, she took a leave of absense from the school and began working on her project full-time. While the Freedom Five was off fighting robots or whatever, Isabell got her first prototype working and recieved permission from City Hall to test it out. Not one to waste time, she hooked it right up to the main powergrid, switched it on, and was knocked unconscious from the resulting explosion.

There were no faults in her design, but the moment she turned it on happened to be the same exact moment that Akash'flora connected her roots to the power grid and started flooding it with void energy, overloading the machine and having a strange effect on Isabell herself. When the machine blew up, the void energy somehow "transferred" its function onto Isabell's body, giving her the ability to generate heat and electricity at will.

When she came to and realized all this, she was furious. Not because her only prototype of revolutionary technology was destroyed, not because the past several months she spent working with no pay was wasted, but because some "magic tree" had upstaged what should've been her moment! Isabell, however, was an opportunist, and with these new powers she had a new job lined up for her. If she wasn't gonna be famous as an inventor, she could always become famous as Lampyridae (pronounced lam-peer-i-dee), a master of fire and lightning, and antagonist to any and all magic users.

Villain of the Day:  July 17 (Asphalt)

Francis T. Alvarado was always bad to the bone.

Once a long-haul truck driver, T-Rich was fired by his parent shipping company after he nearly came to blows with a warehouse dock supervisor.  After punching a hole in his own boss's office door, T-Rich stormed off on his low-rider, more than ready for a long stint of highway riding.  Driving--whether in his big rig, his pickup, or astride his low-rider--was T-Rich's one true passion.  He couldn't get enough.

That Friday afternoon, though, was a humid, sticky one.  Morning rain had made the road a touch slick, though T-Rich was more than capable of handling the roads.  What he didn't count on handling, however, was the road spray.

T-Rich raged as a sedan cut him off, spraying him down with leftover road spray.  And, as it ever seems to do, that road spray just so happened to contain a particle of the enigmatic Isoflux Alpha.  T-Rich opened up the throttle on his motorcycle, roaring up beside the offending sedan and began pounding on the window.  As he fumed, his clenched fist became grey-black and stony, smashing through the sedan's window with ease.  Panicking, the sedan-driver pulled away off a nearby exit ramp as T-Rich pulled to a stop on the shoulder, looking incredulously at his hands.  

The Isoflux Alpha particle in that road spray interacted with T-Rich's biology, transforming him into a being of living Asphalt, providing him proportionate strength and durability.  After making it home, T-Rich found that he could repress or release this form at will, appearing in his normal guise for an indefinite amount of time.  

Naturally, T-Rich's temper made this newfound power into a lethal weapon.  While his local biker gang, the Northtown Outriders, was always prone to drunken violence, T-Rich took command of them and began shaping them into a full-on, violent mercenary company.  Since that day, T-Rich has turned his talents and his resources towards other villains, often hiring out his gang as hired muscle or as armed smugglers.  Asphalt himself takes on particularly high-volatility jobs, and is quick to personally taken on any would-be heroes who would interrupt the job.  When he's paid well, Asphalt is loyal and stalwart as one could want; when the cash runs out, you can be sure that T-Rich and his crew will be back on the road.

Villain of the Day:  July 18 (Smokescreen)

Bettina Orsolya never thought much of her powers.  That is, until she became a mercenary.

Raised in what is now Macedonia, Bettina grew up in the heart of the Balkan conflicts.  Her childhood was continually interrupted by vicious street-fighting, UN evacuations, and ration days.  Each day where she managed to make it to school, put together a reasonable dinner, and sleep in her own bed was a victory.  In amidst the chaos, Bettina's metahuman abilities--she could hypercondense the water vapor in the air, forming a dense, opaque fog--went almost unrecognized all the way through her 20s.

Bettina's brother, Sergey, knew better.  Sergey was a mercenary with the Kings of Sabor, a group allied with the Serbian government during the Balkan conflicts.  As the conflict raged on and the UN became involved, the Kings of Sabor were desperate for new recruits.  Enter Iyo the Crystalline Man, the known metahuman recruiting agent.  After consulting with Sergey and his commander, Iyo came to approach Bettina with quite the offer.

Four days later, Smokescreen made her first appearance on the battlefield.  She became living cover for her brother and his allies, swirling fog and mist into the Bosnian ranks, making them easy pickings for the more-combative mercenaries.  Better than any smoke grenade, Bettina could shape the cover over time, spreading it through buildings, up and down stairwells, and into inaccessible areas.  With focus and practice, she soon became able to carry dust and debris into her summoned fog, turning it into a churning, choking miasma capable of incapacitating those without proper lung protection.  While creating such a fog is slow and not particularly damaging, Bettina's mastery of her powers has made the Kings of Sabor a force to be reckoned with.

Alongside her unpowered allies (and a few other metahuman recruits), Smokescreen has become a more than capable combatant in both ranged and hand-to-hand combat.  And, if unchecked, the Kings of Sabor may become a destablilizing force the world over.

Villain of the Day:  July 19 (Fester)

Matt Denning hated vegetables.

As a child, his mother continually insisted that he down every last green bit on his plate, regardless of whether he liked it or no.  Never mind that Mom's favored method of cooking vegetables was simply to put them in a sauce pan, toss a few pats of butter on them, and let them sit until they became a gray-green mush; Matt was going to eat those vegetables or he simply wasn't going to leave the table.

As such, Matt developed an intense dislike for any sort of vegetables.  Broccoli made him gag, brussels sprouts turned his stomach, and asparagus?  Just don't ask about asparagus.

Imagine, then, Mom's surprise when, while Matt was playing out in the yard, every piece of grass upon which Matt sat wilted and began to decompose.  If he climbed a tree, he would leave behind handprints of decay in his wake, in each branch he touched.  After being examined by numerous doctors, none truly understood what happened.  It wasn't until Matt became a teenager, whereupon his powers intensified exponentially.  Matt could decay and rot any plant life within the vicinity with but a thought, turning fresh produce into rotted paste in naught but seconds.

For quite a while, Matt's "party trick" was simply the province of teenage vandalism.  A simple stroll through a farmer's market could turn an enjoyable Saturday morning into a gag-inducing miasma, which amused Matt to no end.  After his mother asked him to please, look into some kind of power-dampener or the like, Matt amped up his efforts, targeting farmers for extortion.  He threatened to annihilate entire fields of crops, unless those farmers paid him handsome monthly sums.  Taking the name Fester, Matt made thousands of dollars at a clip, through his agricultural extortion racket.

While this low-grade villainy rarely comes into conflict with most superheroes, despite Matt's unique powerset, it was only through the intervention of Green Grocer that Fester ended up appearing on the Sentinels' radar.  Incensed upon hearing underworld rumors of Fester's destruction of a massive soybean farm, Green Grocer tracked down Fester, engaging him in battle at a regional corn festival.  The ensuring destruction leveled the festival, though heroes were able to contain the combat and prevent any significant loss of life.  However, both Green Grocer and Fester escaped; their feud will certainly come to a head once more...

All he needs is a light bulb and a black cassock. :P

Villain of the Day:  July 20 (Black Hole)

Robin Molina was born to be a supervillain; it just took her a while to make it happen.

Ever the loner during school, Robin spent most of her time sketching landscapes or writing out lengthy fan-fiction about the various heroes and villains that seemed to be an omnipresent presence in Megalopolis.  Of all the villains that plagued the city, though, Robin was fascinated most by Citizen Dawn and her legion of metahuman followers.  She imagined herself marching as a Citizen of the Sun, roaming the hall's of Dawn's Insula Primalis fortress, and commanding power and awe.

The problem was...she had no superpowers.

That is, until a chance encounter with a man named Moriarty.  After serving him for three days in a row at the Dad's Restaurant where she worked, Robin accidentally left her notebook on the counter near Moriarty while she went into the kitchen to pick up several orders.  When she returned, she found him scanning through one of her recent stories, smirking.  "Dawn allying with Baron Blade?" Moriarty smiled, "As if either of their egos would permit them such an endeavor.  No vision.  No sense of practicality."

Robin froze.  This man spoke as if he knew these people.  As if they were peers or friends.  "Do you...know...these people?"

Moriarty smiled, not answering.  He paid his bill, tipped rather heavily, under which he left a nearly-blank business card, marked only with a phone number.

Three days later, Robin disappeared.  One year to the day after that, Black Hole made her first appearance.

No one seems to know from where Black Hole's powers stem, though her utter brutality and the zeal with which she uses her powers nearly brought about the deaths of four new recruits to the Sentinels of Freedom in a skirmish outside of a Georgia army base.  At first, reports seemed to indicate that Black Hole had a degree of telekinesis, but the truth of her abilities were both stranger and deadlier.  Black Hole seems to have the abilty to eliminate or simply eradicate air within a localized region, creating areas of intense vacuum capable of pulling a person from their feet, flinging objects across rooms, or outright suffocating her foes by preventing any oxygen from reaching their lungs. 

By creating these null fields, she was able to incapacitate several base guards with but a moment of thought, tear the roof from the bunker in which they were stationed, and sling it like a discus towards an oncoming personnel carrier.  While her encounter with the Sentinels of Freedom was minimal, Black Hole flung Starlight nearly a quarter mile away, left Silver Sparrow an unconscious, breathless heap near the front gates, and pinned Freefall and Ki-Rin beneath the aforementioned bunker roof.  What she stole from the base is still anyone's guess, as none of the Sentinels got a good look at any items carried by Black Hole and the military has been particularly tight-lipped as to what was going on in the base at all.  

Black Hole has since reappeared a number of times, each time at a military base or some other location of great strategic import.  However, detaining her has been a task no hero has managed to date.

Villain of the Day: July 21 (Stormbringer)

The being calling itself Stormbringer would likely have looked much different, had The PageMistress actually read Moorcock's seminal fantasy series instead of just skimming the front cover.

The nascent hero group calling themselves the Eldritch Alliance first encountered Stormbringer when attacking a coven of vampires under the Court of Blood. Little did the Eldritch Alliance know, though, that Relict Dorothea had intended to meet with The PageMistress that midnight to discuss the transfer of a series of tomes on blood magic written by the sixth Merlin, Charles Webster Leadbeater.

When the Eldritch Alliance burst in, PageMistress conjured the first being she could pull from her tablet: an albino warrior holding a jet black sword aloft. Of course, she thought, Stormbringer... he controls lightning... What PageMistress didn't bargain, for however, was the interaction between her abilities and the ambient blood magic in the area. Instead of merely creating a fictional simulacrum, PageMistress had conjured a fully functional being of blood magic and arcane power.... totally in thrall to Dorothea. The warrior leapt to attack the Eldritch Alliance, flinging blasts of lightning and screaming a battle cry for "blood and souls to my dark lord Arioch!"

While both the PageMistress and the Eldritch Alliance fled the scene, Stormbringer has remained, a blood simulacrum of the fictional warrior, in complete thrall to the Court of Blood, whom it serves as an omnipresent bodyguard. Apart from its likeness and a few cursory details, it has no true similarity to the tales of fiction. The PageMistress would love to have such a defender of her own back, but all attempts to replicate the occurrence have ended in failure...despite her actually sitting down to actually read the books this time.

Villain of the Day:   July 22 (*Name Unknown to Human Tongue*, called Ashes)

The citizens of Magmaria have managed to maintain a tenuous peace with the surface world, despite continual incursions by would-be conquerors, villains and other interlopers.  Each time, an alliance of surface heroes and Magmarian peacekeepers have managed to beat back the invasion, saving both species of Earth.

The being currently codenamed Ashes would see all that come crashing down.

A xenophobic, genocidal maniac, Ashes watched as Baron Blade attempted to tap into the core of the earth, hoping to cause a global volcanic eruption.  Blade's plans were thwarted, but much of Blade's technology remained, albeit in a broken form.  Ashes immediately set to work, stealing the various drilling devices and beginning to establish an anti-surface cult of personality.  While Ashes itself does not stand as the 'face' of its own movement, it manipulates the full group behind the scenes, subtly moving the Magmarian people against the surface.

However, Ashes plan is not one of Magmarian supremacy.  Rather, it is one of annihilation.  Ashes has retrofitted Baron Blade's devices such that, if it completes its research, Ashes will be able to shunt the thermal energy of Earth's inner core into space, via a massive 'chute' of energy.  The Earth's core, so cooled, would utterly devastate both the planet's overall climate, but also its magnetic field, effectively 'demagnetizing' the core.  Should his plans reach fruition, Ashes' plan would not only destroy all life on Earth's surface, but also destroy all of Magmarian society.  Ashes' anti-surface cult has no knowledge of the second part of this plan; they have been sold the plan on the basis of conquering the surface in the name of Magmaria.  

Few clues exist as to this strange plan, but the one person who may know the most about it is the equally-genocidal villain, Fissure.  Fissure, however, wants nothing more than the utter destruction of Magmaria, though this may be yet another case where "the enemy of my enemy is my friend..."

Villain of the Day:  July 23 (Sumac)

Park Ranger Nathan Wilkes loved the outdoors.  He grew up in a family of hikers, spent his summer vacations at camp, and went to college for biology and ecological management.  His greatest love was nothing short of wandering through the American wilderness, getting a glimpse at some vista that only few had ever managed to see.  He'd through-hiked the Appalachian Trail on four separate occasions, once in the middle of Hurricane Ida.  To say that Wilkes loved nature was an understatement.

As you can imagine, though, the devastation left behind in recent years, from Deadline, Progeny, and OblivAeon, had left Wilkes in something of a stupor.  Nearly every one of his waking moments was spent in some sort of recovery effort, whether helping to contain a ruptured oil pipeline, fundraising at some preservation society dinner, or protesting for more government funding.  Between all these, Nathan was exhausted.  His friends could tell, his girlfriend could tell, and most of all, his boss could tell.

As such, supervisor Mary commanded:  "Vacation.  Mandatory.  Two weeks.  And if I see pictures of you anywhere remotely natural on your Instant-Gram, you're fired.  Go do one of those escape rooms or something; take your girlfriend out somewhere that's not vegan."  Much to his chagrin, Wilkes replied.

However, during that vacation, his life took a drastic turn.  Defying his boss's orders, Nathan went on an extended hike through the Laurel Mountains, whereupon he found the strangest glowing meteorite in a patch of poison sumac.  As he approached, he made to touch the rock...and that's when everything went black.  Aida, Nathan's girlfriend, found him several hours later and called EMS Express; Nathan awoke in a county hospital in quarentine, his body covered in the telltale blotches of poison sumac.

Over the next few weeks, Nathan found himself changed.  His body, not even remotely damaged by the toxic leaves of the sumac, had actually absorbed and stored the toxin, allowing him to exude it through his exposed skin.   However, the OblivAeon shard which changed him also changed his mind.  Nathan's zeal to protect nature and return the world to its original form became a mania.  Divesting himself of all worldly possessions, Nathan--now calling himself Sumac--began to travel the world, absorbing all manner of plant and animal toxins and laying waste to any who would defile the environment.

Of late, Sumac has become intensely fixated on Akash'Thriya, viewing her as something of a perfect, deific being.  Torn between romantic and religious love for the ancient earth spirit, Sumac has traveled to Megalopolis, ready to serve the massive Akash'Flora tree....whether it wants a servant or not.

So he hasn't quite reached the "civilization is a defilement of the natural order" stage yet, huh?

He’s working on it, slowly but surely…

Villain of the Day:  July 24 (Scaedukex)

The ancient relics of lost Atlantis, Thule, and Lemuria have always provided a tempting prize for any daring (or foolhardy) enough to seek out such forbidden places.  Genevieve Nelson, the current host for the Scaedukex, has already paid the for her greed countless times over.

A deep-sea researcher working as part of a team investigating the ruins of Atlantis, Genevieve was constantly fascinated by the links between Atlantis and its rumored otherdimensional counterparts.  While the expedition to Atlantis was made with all possible precautions, given the volatile and esoteric nature of Atlantean architecture, particularly in its ruined state.  All researchers were paired off, with mandatory fifteen minute check-ins and constant walkie-talkie channels open.

All that, and it still wasn't enough.

Pulled through a momentary portal, Genevieve found herself shunted outside the Atlantis ruins, subjected to the crushing depth and darkness of the sea.  Realizing she had but seconds to survive, Genevieve grasped for anything that might allow her to get back inside before her scant breath ran out.  What she grabbed, however, was something she should have left well enough alone.

Her hands wrapped around a rod of onyx, with almost imperceptible carvings covering every inch of its surface.  As she swung against the Atlantean crystal dome, the rod pulled her straight through the crystal, as if utterly intangible.  However, as she landed on the floor of a previously-undiscovered room, the rod itself began its suppression of her mind.  Within seconds, Genevieve was no more.  The Scaedukex had taken her.

To the best determination of the world's heroes, The Scaedukex seems to be a malevolent force capable of utilzing and manipulating shadow as if a tangible force.  Heroes have reported seeing Scaedkex, in Genevieve's general silhouette, blast bolts of darkness, teleport through areas of darkness, wrap shadow around herself to move through tiny cracks and crevices, and blind unsuspecting targets.  Further, the darkness conjured by the Scaedkex seems to bear all the crushing pressure of the deep sea, capable of breaking bones and suffocating those who would face it.

Only only one occasion has the Scaedukex rod had been removed from Genevieve's hand.  Within seconds, she had regained her normal form, breathing deep her freedom....for a single instance.  As The Harpy moved to approach Genevieve to offer aid, the shadows coalesced around the Scaedukex rod, slamming it into her sternum...instinctively she reached to stop it and, as her hand made contact with it once more, the Scaedkex took control, fleeing the scene entirely.  Genevieve can be freed, at least temporarily...but on a permanent basis, no one knows.

Villain of the Day:  July 25 (Bilious)

Neal Calderon wasn't exactly the most popular fellow around his Rook City accounting office.  His cubicle was continually a mess of used food wrappers and crumpled papers.  His female coworkers complained of leering stares and his continually shrinking personal bubble.  His male coworkers complained of the sour smell that seemed to accompany him everywhere and the off-color commentary that earned Neal more than a few visits to the human resources office.

Neal took this all in stride, as it turns out.  While he wasn't particularly one for personal change or growth, he easily shrugged off such accusations as mere 'trolling' and that these people didn't know the real him.  As it turns out, no one knew the real him.  

Unbeknownst to his coworkers or anyone in his family, Neal had a side job.  His expertise in accounting had earned him the eye of The Chairman, who was sure that he could use someone like Neal to 'cook the books', so to speak.  As such, Neal began spending his evenings working out of a Pike Industries warehouse, tweaking Excel spreadsheets and strategizing market moves to ensure the best investments for his new employers.

In doing so, though, something changed in Neal.  Whatever fumes or remnants that were left in that warehouse interacted with Neal's biochemistry in some strange way, transforming him.  When Neal exhaled after a long session at the computer, his breath emerged as a column of yellow-brown, corrosive fumes, which ate right through the warehouse wall.  Stunned, Neal fell from his chair.  Rising to his feet, he tried again:  a thin stream of breath projected across the room, sizzling through the steel of the warehouse wall.

Of course, The Chairman never loses track of an asset.  He promoted Neal within the Organization, putting him in charge of a number of major illicit financial affairs.  Under the code-name Bilious, Neal supervises a number of illegal gambling dens, dogfighting rings, and bare-knuckles boxing fights.   On the rare occasions where Neal has been confronted, his newfound gaseous ability has managed to allow him to escape each and every time. 

However, in recent weeks, Bilious has found that his grip on his powers--strong since the outset--has become somewhat tenuous.  His body, as well, has been exuding the yellow-brown corrosive mist that he once only exhaled.  Could it be that Bilious may discorporate entirely?  Or, worse, what if his entire body disperses into that foul miasma?

Villain of the Day:  July 26 (Anthracite)

"You load 16 tons / what do you get? / Another day older / Lord, and deeper in debt..."

The being that wrenched itself out of the Morgantown-area coal mine left a trail of destruction in its wake. 

The Red Garrett Mining Company was already reeling in the face of an ongoing labor strike, as the company's mineworkers shared their dissatisfaction with the company's cuts to the miners' health plans and opted against providing the requested 4% cost of living pay increase.  Between the stalled mining efforts during the OblivAeon events and the now-two-week long strike, Red Garrett's staring down the barrel of a third straight year of corporate losses.

The being that emerged from that mine had no care for such mortal matters.  It was interested in only in carnage.

In the midst of a break in the striking--many of the workers had opted to grab a quick lunch at some of the local food trucks--a grey-black fist slammed up through the concrete of the mine entrance, sending shrapnel in all directions.  Two massive black fists ripped apart the earth, pulling up a hominid figure seemingly made of coal.  The creature rampaged through the mine entrance, leaving massive craters in the earth as it walked, crumpling trucks and mining equipment as it passed.  

Police on scene immediately moved to intercept the creature, drawing sidearms and radioing for backup, as the workers scattered.  As the first few bullets landed, the creature's eyes flared with the familiar red-orange glow of embers.  The creature barreled forward, smashing through a police cruiser, tossing it aside as if it were so much detritus.  But, with each stride it made, the creature glowed redder and hotter until it burst aflame!

Heroes arrived on scene within minutes, but by the time they arrived, the only being still extant in the Red Garrett Mining Company was Anthracite, still glowing red-hot.  Bodies littered the mine entrance as Anthracite continued to smash an already-splintered piece of mining equipment.  Combat against Anthracite proved to be particularly difficult, as its flaming exterior seemed to prevent a number of energy-based assaults, while its rocky body proved resistant to all but the most devastating melee attacks.  However, the heroes managed to lure Anthracite back into the mine proper and collapsed the mine atop it, sealing it within.

Unfortunately, doing so may have sealed Morgantown's fate.  Geologists have detected significant thermal activity in the coal veins running under the whole city; effectively, the coal upon which the area was built has caught fire.  The Sentinels of Freedom have already taken heat (pun not intended) for training-based indiscretions, though their confrontation with Anthracite may well result in a whole city requiring evacuation...

As for what Anthracite is or where it came from?  None seem to know.  Some have theorized that it might be some kind of Magmarian enforcer, though Magmarians are never seen so close to the surface and are capable of communication.  Others have surmised that Anthracite is some sort of arcane guardian or golem, though no investigation has yet been made as to the truth of this theory.  Ideally, the world has seen the last of Anthracite.

Villain of the Day:  July 27 (James Keller)

The metahuman-repressor holding cells beneath Freedom Plaza are a war-crime waiting to happen.

Not two cells down from Squall--the comatose, snowstorm-summoning Omega from Greenland--sits a sullen young man.  He spends most of his day slumped against the walls of his cell, aimlessly drawing in a sketchpad.  He spends at least an hour each singing; Johnny Cash and Tom Petty are particular favorites, though he also has an affinity for 90s-era alternative.  The power-dampener collar and and cuffs around his neck and wrists often chafe him, so he applies moisturizer beneath each at least 4 times a day.

His name is James Keller and if Meredith Stinson is to be believed, he will destroy the world.

James, yet another metahuman in the wake of OblivAeon, subconsciously manipulates the weak nuclear force in an exponentially expanding radius around him.  Were his powers to be unchecked, the nucleus of every atom surrounding James would speed towards radioactive decay, disintegrating everyone and everything in an ever-expanding circle around him.  

In what surely brooked some diagreement amongst the storied heroes, The Freedom Five collected James at the request of his mother, a leukemia patient who believed something was wrong with her son and was unable to care for him as she approached her deathbed.  Upon significant medical testing, the group isolated James in his family home.  The entire surrounding neighborhood had already become a massive radioactive hotbed, with ambient radiation levels well exceeding the safe limits for humans.

James was taken, his powers nullified, and every person in a sixteen block vicinity of James' home was relocated. 

James' mother has since died, though the controvery of James' seeming "disappearance" has not gone unnoticed by the residents of his former neighborhood.  Led by Morris McMahon, the residents have already filed a class-action lawsuit against the Freedom Five's negligence in the neighboorhood, and their lawyer is already prepping subpoenas to the various F5 members to determine exactly what has happened that fateful day and what happened to James.

Right now, James is unaware.  But, more than anything, he wants to be free.  And if someone were to give him the means of escape, the whole world may suffer the consequences.

Villain of the Day:  July 28 (Coronal)

International intelligence agencies have identified him as Brian Wilhite, a native of San Alonzo whose body was identified and interred in a Southern California mausoleum.  Who he claims to be, however, is another matter.  Rather, he goes by Coronal, and claims that he is the son of Citizen Dawn.

Coronal first appeared in the wake of the Progeny event, during a routine aerial patrol over Insula Primalis.  Heroes were forced into evasive action as a bolt of brilliant, coruscating energy whirled up from the ruins of the Citadel of the Sun, disabling the right engine of their aircraft.  After making a (relatively) safe landing, the group entered the ruins, only to find a blond haired boy of no more than 14, sitting atop the shattered throne once held by Dawn Cohen herself.  At first, heroes believed that Coronal was perhaps some holdover Citizen--a minion of Dawn's that had come back to reclaim some relic or piece of technology left behind in the wake of the battles that sundered the Citizens of the Sun.  However, as battle was engaged, this swiftly appeared not to be the case.

Rather, Coronal appears to have full mastery of his powers, utilizing ultraviolet and infrared light as weapons and even charging up his entire body until he becomes a blinding, luminous being.  However, it appears that Coronal can--much like Dawn herself--only hold such a form for a short time before reverting to his normal, organic form.  In truth, the similarities between Dawn's power-set and Coronals are numerous, though Coronal seems to have no ability to animate dead tissue, nor does he have any ability to energize or vitalize his compatriots.  However, his mastery of solar radiation has extended to that of searing, blinding blasts, capable of igniting flammable materials in an instant.

Upon Coronal's appearance, Citizen Dawn was confronted at the nearest opportunity and has, strangely, denied ever siring a son.  While Dawn has lied and deceived about a great many things, the likelihood of her turning down a powerful metahuman heir seems unlikely.  In practice, Dawn has shown herself to want nothing to do with Coronal, outright denying any link between the two.  However, the evidence to link the two seems overwhelming...perhaps only the cosmos knows the truth.

Villain of the Day:  July 29 (Bloom)

Eliza Harkins never thought much of plants, until they became her best friends. 

A longtime native of Megalopolis, Eliza's botanical experiences were often relegated to the occasional jog through Centennial Park or the occasional brunch at Hibiscus, the restaurant adjoining to the Megalopolis Botanical Gardens.  However, as the Akash'Flora tree rose through the center of the city, Eliza found herself at the heart of the chaos, with her apartment building literally rent in twain by the massive trees.  As vines and trees cracked the concrete and twisted the steel of her building, Eliza was sure that she was dead.  The limbs closed in around her, sharp spines pierced her flesh, and she prepared for the end.

But the growing stopped.  Eliza, borderline-impaled upon the branches of Akash'Flora, lay trapped in her apartment for two days until fire and rescue managed to extricate her from the branches.  She spent over four weeks in the hospital recovering from her injuries, and another six months on disability.

It wasn't until Eliza went back to work, though, that her powers first manifested.  When coming back to her office, Eliza found a number of flower arrangements across her desk, most in various states of rot and decay.  Reaching out to clear off her desk and return to her once-upon-a-time routine, the potted begonia on her desk glowed with a faint green shimmer.  In but a few seconds, the plants grew from a withered brown stalk to a fully bloomed floral arrangement.  Eliza jumped back, holding the pot at arm's length.  Within minutes, every pot in the office was in full bloom, with vines trailing across her desk chair and buds bursting over her cubicle wall.

Alarmed, Eliza made for the elevator and a breath of fresh air outside.  The green glow had abated, but as she leaned against a tree, the radiance returned as the tree split the concrete, growing from a mere sapling into a massive behemoth in mere moments.  Bloom had sprouted.

Eliza hadn't intended to become a villain, but it was only after she was approached by the Argent Adept, the Naturalist, and Akash'Thriya that she began to use her powers offensively.  Drake attempted to explain that something had happened when Eliza was impaled upon Akash'Flora's branches--that a measure of the tree's power had infused itself in her and that it needed to be returned immediately.  Eliza disagreed, with words at first, then with a lash of vines that nearly snapped the virtuoso's neck.  While the heroic trio tried to reason with Eliza, she was beyond the capacity of reason.  She planned to keep her accidentally-stolen powers, no matter the cost.

Since that day, Bloom has been sighted in a number of locations, mostly offering her services to villains planning to take on the aforementioned natural trio.  While she has no real compunctions towards villainy--no nefarious plots, no intent to do harm to any outside Drake, Conteh, and Akash'Thriya--Bloom has made a life for herself as a natural mercenary for hire, with every plant in the vicinity as a weapon, waiting to be grown.

Villain of the Day:  July 30 (The Rain Man)

Before the storm comes, there's a baking, stagnant heat.  The sort of heat that just intensifies and deepens as the days go one.  The sort of heat that, after the first few days, starts to affect your mood.  Starts to make you irritable and short-tempered.  Hot under the collar.  That's when the storm breaks.

The people of Blue Pastures, Iowa know this phenomenon all too well.  Two years ago, they were paid a visit by The Rain Man.

Very few of the residents of Blue Pastures remembers much about the fellow they now call The Rain Man.  Choctaw County Sheriff Jerry Stane claims that he shared a cup of coffee with the fellow--a non-descript brunette fellow, dressed in a long black raincoat and purple wellies--over at Millie's Lunch 'Em Rite.  Homemaker Sherilynn Bowers claims that he stopped by her daughter's lemonade stand, where he gave little Sheila a whole dollar for the 25 cent cup of sugar water.  At all times, he was affable and pleasant, but always seemed to manipulate the persons he spoke to into venting their frustrations and anger, usually about neighbors or coworkers.

For Jerry Stane, that was one of his deputies, the "damned incompetent" Horace Garfunkle.  For Sherilynn, that was the mother of Sheila's friend Mae, who was "a heinous witch".  After nearly a week of baking heat and subtle influence from The Rain Man, the residents of Blue Pastures were at each others' throats.

Then, the lightning came.  A low rumble sounded across the horizon.  The humidity seemed to rise to a cresendo as The Rain Man strode right down the middle of Maple Street, his purple wellies squelching with each step.  

A shot rang out from the police station, then three more.  Deputy Garfunkle lay across his desk in a pool of rapidly spreading blood.  Mae Hensworthy gagged and clutched at her throat, not realizing the secret ingredients that Sherilynn had dropped into those snickerdoodles.  All across town, neighbor turned against neighbor, with the body count steadily rising as a cacaphonous peal of thunder cracked against the sky and the rain finally came pouring down.

And, standing before the old white gazebo at the town center, The Rain Man stood and raised his arms to the heavens...and simply vanished, searching for another town in need of rain.

Great aesthetics. :D

Villain of the Day:  July 31 (The Meteorologists)

The arrival of the Maerynian people on the plant Earth was a relatively unheralded result.  The appearance of the hero known as Tempest brought suspicion from some, but most didn't even bat an eye at another metahuman willing to take up arms against the likes of Baron Blade and Citizen Dawn.  Even the establishment of the Maerynian refuge on Plavu'Col was relatively unheralded, with its isolationist population and its distance from most other human-inhabited settlements.

The Meteorologists, however?  They saw opportunity when it knocked.

Originally starting as a small geoscience affiliation--the International Association of Meteorology and Geosciences, as it was known on its journal title--the very concept of the weather-manipulating Maerynian species seemed an utterly foreign concept to them.  The very idea that an individual could disrupt global weather systems seemed impossible.  And yet, Tempest existed, as did his alien allies.  Something had to be done.

Dr. David Holston had an idea of what that something had to be.  Chartering a fishing boat into the Atlantic, Holston did the unthinkable.  He captured a live Maerynian, known as K'nn Da'Laas.  With the assistance of several nefarious allies in the scientific community, Holston began to experiment on his subject, eventually isolating the portions of the alien's brain responsible for its phenomenal metahuman abilities.  And, while he was no engineer, he certainly had enough contacts to begin the assembly of a rig designed to replicate the same metahuman powers.  Within months, Holston had a working piece of headgear, turning him to the Meteorologists' first atmokineticist.

Since that day, Holston has gathered a legion of disgruntled scientists, geologists, and researchers to his cause, as he and his group attempt to unlock humankind's mastery of the weather.  Taking up in an abaondoned weather station off the coast of Massachusetts, The Meteorologists have worked tirelessly to continue replication of Maerynian powersets, ranging from lightning-channeling harnesses and rain-summoning headgear, to ice cannons and tornado projectors.  Their crowning achievement, though?  A device that, when completed, will cause a snowstorm capable of covering approximately 2/5 of the Earth.  In just a few days, the ability to destroy entire nations will be in the hands of a mad weatherman...

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And with that, we reach the end of Elemental July.  Definitely a hot one, that!

As some of you might have guessed, I will be taking another break to attend GenCon.  As such, there will be no Villain of the Day until Tuesday, August 7th, at which point we will begin AugHost--a month of villains tied to the engimatic emotion-beings known as The Host.

Have fun!

Now that we're back from GenCon--my voice still hasn't recovered from 30ish hours of GMing--welcome to AugHost, a month detailing the denizens of the enigmatic emotion-realm known as The Host!

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Villain of the Day:  August 7 (Gleeson)

Bradley Schumacher made for the most pathetic clown ever to don the red nose.

After dreaming for years of joining clown college, after spending hours upon hours teaching himself various juggling moves, after perfecting his patter at relatives' birthday parties and holiday parties, Bradley was ready to hit the road and begin travelling with the first circus, festival, or theme park willing to take him.  He was born to entertain, to bring joy, and to make the world laugh.

Unfortunately, he was miserable at it.  For whatever reason, every attempt to perform that Bradley made saw him fall flat on his face.  His performances at birthday parties inevitably ended with childrens' tears.  The juggling routines that went perfectly during practice ended with balls, pins, and knives fumbled across the floor when performing.  HIs comedic patter fell flat and the Halp! reviews for his HappyTime Live Performance company limped along about 1.5 stars.  

Refusing to give up on his dreams, Bradley hung his comedic fate onto one last shot:  SunnySide College of Comedy.  And, true to form, Bradley's audition went miserably.  Beyond nervous, Bradley dropped his juggling torches four times and barely managed to get a titter from the jury.  Dejected, Bradley thanked the judges and headed to the parking lot.

Almost as if on cue, the sky cut loose with a summer shower, drenching Bradley and his costume just before he could reach his SUV.  Sopping wet, Bradley bounced his head off of the steering wheel a few times, all the while lamenting, "Why can't they just laugh?  Why can't I make them happy?"

Something out there heard his cry.  And that something found its way to the red rubber nose strapped to Bradley's face.

The spirit of elation that attached itself to Bradley truly wants nothing more than to spread happiness and laughter wherever it goes, but Bradley's desperation and frustration warped its presence into something twisted and manic.  In costume as Gleeson, Bradley and the joy spirit concoct elaborate jokes, performances, and pranks meant to entertain and amuse as many people as possible.  But, inevitably, as these routines fall upon deaf ears, Gleeson grows frustrated and violent, often lashing out with deadly riffs on classic circus routines, ranging from chattery teeth capable of biting off fingers to clown cars stuffed with deadly minions.  All the while, Gleeson rages, "Why aren't you laughing?!  This is funny!  Smile!"

Some have surmised that Gleeson may have some link to Madame Mittermeier's Fantastical Festival of Conundrums and Curiousities, though Gleeson actively seems to avoid the festival for reasons unknown.  Whether this is due to the festival's horrific nature or due to some occult entanglement that prevents the elation spirit from entering the arcanely warded grounds still remains to be seen.  In the meanwhile, Gleeson just wants to put a smile on your face...

Villain of the Day:  August 8  (Craven)

Gordon Guzman was a professional henchman.  

Starting just after he got out of the military--Gordon had spent three years in the US Army as an enlisted infantryman--Gordon had become fascinated with the masked villains that seemed to commit caper after caper over the news.  As villains clashed with heroes across the world, Gordon followed their activities with a near-fixated fervor, charting appearances, combatants, and more in a massive linked spreadsheet on his computer.

After a year and a half of applying for (and failing to get) a job, Gordon had made up his mind.  He was a combat-trained veteran:  he could be a fantastic henchman.

The biggest problem in Gordon's plan?  Few villains were willing to give him the time of day.  Baron Blade already had legions in his blade battalions at his disposal.  Citizen Dawn would immediately turn him down, as he had no metahuman powers.  Revocorp, however?  That was a group that needed people.  And Mark Bennodetto certainly wasn't one to turn down skilled manpower.

However, Gordon's first henching-escapade did not go as planned.  A simple semi-truck hijacking from Revolt and Ray Manta turned into a one-sided brawl against the Prime Wardens, who had only been back on earth for a few hours, after an extended jaunt through the Realm of Discord.  As the heroes smashed their way through his compatriots and Fanatic flung Ray Manta half a city block by his costume's tail, Gordon froze.  He panicked, gripping his las-rifle with white knuckles as all of his combat-training fled his mind.  Suddenly, everything went black.

In that moment of pants-wetting, soul clenching terror, Gordon Guzman learned true fear.  So intimate with such a powerful emotion, Gordon's mind linked to a spirit of terror, twisting his body into a pitiful, hunchbacked form.  Loping along on all fours, Craven did his best to escape, only to be cut off by the hulking form of Haka on one side and a Captain-Cosmic-conjured golden barrier to his rear.  Frantic, Craven started scrabbling at the asphalt, only to tear his way through it, escaping through a tunnel just barely big enough for him to fit.

In the days since his transformation, Craven has found that his strength and abilities proportionally grow in relation to how much fear he experiences.  While he can minorly influence others' emotions, making them fearful and nervous, his truest strength comes when he himself fears for his life.  Often, his powers manifest as some method of escape:  teleportation, tunnelling, flight, or speed.  However, if cornered, Craven's fight-or-flight reflexes can appear in ways that are much more damaging or offensive in ability.  Several of the newest Sentinels of Freedom can attest to Craven's fear-born power, as an explosive projection from him sent at least four of their members to the infirmary with burns, concussions, and worse.

Villain of the Day:  August 9 (The Watcher)

No one really knows who The Watcher is.  No one's even been able to ask.  

On rare occasions, the being known as The Watcher--sometimes appearing as male, other times as female, always wearing a heavy trenchcoat and full facemask--appears over the rooftops of Rook City, observing the bustle and chaos below.  The Wraith was the first hero to confront The Watcher, only for the trenchcoat-clad individual to flee outright, leading Maia Montgomery on a lengthy chase across the city rooftops.  The Wraith barely managed to even get a hand on the figure, which phased right through The Watcher's arm.

Since that day, both The Wraith and the various members of Dark Watch have considered The Watcher as a low-priority task, as they monitor crime and metahuman activity across Rook City.  To date, the only true clear clue as to The Watcher's identity came in a brief interaction with The Harpy and Setback.  The pair had 'cornered' The Watcher in a dockside warehouse just outside of Rook City proper.  Faced with the prospect of combat, The Watcher did something that none had ever seen them do before:  draw a weapon to attack.  However, that weapon itself provided a key bit of information. 

That weapon was a dagger.  More specifically, it was a Roman-era pugio, one recognizable through lengthy arcane research as the one owned by one Marcus Perpenna Vento and used to assassinate noted Roman general Quintus Sertorius.  

In truth, that dagger became the focus for a spirit of paranoia, a Host creation that amplified and intensified feelings of mistrust and madness.  Much like the semi-sentient dagger known as Backbiter, Perpenna's pugio has drifted from hand to hand over the centuries; fitting, as they share a creator.  The current wielder  is one Denise Backstrom, an online researcher for Overbrook University's fundraising department.  By day, she seems unassuming and skittish, if particularly skilled at her job, but by night, she gathers information by rooftops, ever watching and awaiting an inevitable betrayal.

Villain of the Day:  August 10 (Widower)

Maria Donnelly was one of millions across the world.  She, like so many others, lost her husband during the OblivAeon crisis.  Greg was a National Guardsman; his regiment was all but decimated by a horde of Aeon Men while defending against a Scion incursion on the outskirts of Megalopolis.  The death of her daughter, Kristi, was even worse--Kristi's daycare provider collapsed in amongst all the chaos.  Her son, Aaron, survived the chaos--his elementary school was spared the destruction of so many other places.  But, a happy family of four had suddenly become a mere two.

Burying Greg and Kristi nearly broke Maria, but she was more concerned for Aaron than herself.  The 11 year old had withdrawn to the point of total isolation.  He wouldn't speak.  He would barely eat.  Grief counselors and group therapy had done nothing.  Maria had related her "Where were you?" story so many times, but Aaron would literally flee the scene if anyone brought up his father and sister, the devastation of OblivAeon, or the deaths of so many others.

Maria was desperate to find something that worked.  The man who called himself Jerome promised that he could make things work.  And, true to his word, The Widower fixed Aaron in the best way he knew how.

Maria met Jerome by total chance.  While picking up a latte from a local Harbrinks Coffee, she noted a plain white business card tacked to the local community board.  It simply read:  "Your Anguish Is Our Focus.  We Heal the Hurt." along with a phone number.  Lacking few other options and concerned for her son, Maria called the number.  

Jerome showed up at the Donnelly townhouse--Maria sold the family's home after the funeral--at nearly 10pm.  Maria immedately voiced her concerns, but Jerome insisted on coming in, then immediately headed up to Aaron's room.  He found the boy sprawled over his bed, his headphone-clad noggin drooping off the bed itself.  

What happened next, Maria still struggles to explain.  Jerome reached out with both hands, grasping Aaron's head.  A white-blue light began drifting out of Aaron's head and into Jerome's open mouth, as if Jerome were vacuuming away some field of energy within Aaron.  Maria moved to protest, but found herself paralyzed, unable even to speak in opposition, much less stop Jerome from what he was doing.  All the while, Aaron lay with his eyes lolled back in his head. After two minutes, the deed was done.  Jerome left without a word.

After getting over her shock, Maria was inclined to think that Jerome had worked some kind of miracle.  Aaron seemed to be back to his normal self; he went back to soccer practice, he hung out with friends.  He even laughed; something Maria had not seen him do in almost a year.  However, it quickly became apparent that Aaron's newfound joy came at some cost.  On the anniversary of Greg and Kristi's death, Maria suggested a day out, followed by a visit to the gravesite.  Aaron was dumbfounded.  Not only did he have only scant memories of his father and sister, but he seemed utterly incapable of any sort of grief or sorrow.  It was as if Aaron's ability to understand sadness had utterly been eliminated.

Maria's story is not a unique one.  Jerome, dubbed The Widower for his propensity to target women and children grieving the loss of their families, has struck on at least 8 other occasions.  None know truly what his motives are, outside of consuming the sadness of individuals, ranging from Megalopolis all the way to the ruins of San Alonzo.  And all it took was one short phone call...

Villain of the Day:  August 11 (Passive Voice)

Michelle Kerrigan had a knack for getting people to calm down.

Throughout high school, she was the stable rock for all her friends.  During college, she became a peer mediator for her dormitory, resolving conflicts between roommates and quarrelling floormates.  Her degree in psychology led her towards pursuing an advanced degree in counseling, though she never quite made it that far.  Rather, she found herself reaching a compromise with something that should never have found its way into our world.

Her mind bonded to a spirit of complacency, Michelle found herself taking on the masked identity of Passive Voice; gifted with the ability to affect minds and conjure areas of emotional calm and acceptance, Michelle had every intention of becoming a hero.  She envisioned herself traveling to peace conferences and mediating between world leaders.  She envisioned herself bringing harmony to all manner of men and women across the globe.  And, when she was finally admitted to the Sentinels of Freedom program, it was like a door to her entire future had opened.

As it turned out, though?  World leaders don't tend to like being mind-controlled, even in subtle, positive ways.  After being taken to mediate a treaty negotiation between several central African countries, arguments immediately broke out as to Michelle's presence and her role within the negotiations.  As the delegates began actively arguing, Michelle felt the familiar calling in the recesses of her mind...and let loose with a wave of calm.

Those leaders never recovered.  To this day, each will comply with anything they are confronted with, taking even the merest suggestion as an absolute command and following others with every ounce of their being.

The international incident that ensued sealed Michelle's fate.  Her career as a hero--her chance at bringing about world peace--had ended as quickly as it it had begun.  The Sentinels of Freedom tendered her resignation before she had even returned to Megalopolis.  But, with the spirit in her mind aching to bring passivity and peace, Michelle's grasp on her own mind had become tenuous at best.

Since that day, Passive Voice has re-emerged a number of times, often targeting high-stakes negotiations, corporate takeovers, and the like.  In all cases, those individuals have become nothing short of drooling sycophants, eager to agree to anything Passive Voice wants.  The will is not their own, and that's just how Passive Voice wants it.

Villain of the Day:  August 12 (Maelstrom)

Grady Shedd was never a even-keeled fellow.  After a chance encounter with an item belonging to The Idolator, Grady may be better described as 'unhinged'.

Grady and his family were among those citizens who attended the church founded by Samuel Humphrey, totally unaware that he had been using a Host-inhabited artifact to influence his entire flock.  When Humphrey turned against Fanatic, Grady and his family were among those on Humphrey's front lines, defending the deceptive preacher against the so-called "avenging angel".  As Humphrey's church burned and Fanatic branded the preacher with holy energy, Grady dashed back into the burning church, determined to keep the preacher's artifacts from burning along with the building itself.

The only item Grady managed to escape with was, in fact, a small scapular with an icon of St. Michael lancing a serpent with his spear.  When he emerged, only his family remained on the grounds, weeping of what they believed to be their deceased patriarch.  When Grady emerged, the scapular around his neck, there was an immediate sigh of relief.  As the local fire department screeched onto the scene and the conflagration brought low, Grady and his family headed home...

Now, Grady's wife, Aubrey, had a habit of buying lottery tickets.  Despite their tight finances, she always told Grady, "you can't win if you ain't playin'...", to which Grady would inevitably fly off the handle about the waste of money and his reluctance to "pay the stupid tax".  As the UltraBall started reaching the $400 million threshold, Grady came home to yet again find his refridgerator covered in lottery tickets.  He immediately shouted his displeasure across their house, as the temperature within the home jumped up 10 degrees.  Grady shouted and ranted and, as he did so, the kitchen curtains burst into flame.  Aubrey, thinking quickly, put them out, but the louder and longer that Grady ranted, the more chaos manifested throughout the house.  Fires sparked with each shout, arcs of lightning speared off of Grady's body, and wind whipped about as if Grady himself were the eye of a Maelstrom.

By this point, Grady was beyond reason.  Before he could harm herself or the children, Aubrey grabbed up the twins and fled the house.  When they returned, the house was naught but a leveled, smoking ruin.  Grady?  He was nowhere to be seen.

Since that day, Grady has wandered from place to place, struggling to understand his newfound powers.  He is aware that the St. Michael scapular seems to be the source of his abilties--he wears the scapular on a reinforced chain and hides it beneath his clothing, so as not to be obvious--though he is unsure as to 'how' the power works.  Thusfar, his anger has manifested in spontaneous gouts of flame, an aura of crackling lightning, and intense winds, though the true limits of his rage have yet to be tested.

Villain of the Day:  August 13 (Manacle)

The being that wanders through the ruins of San Alonzo has been most often described as something out of Dickens' A Christmas Carol.  In reality, the truth has been so much more lethal than the apparitions of Jacob Marley.

Rumors have swirled as to the true identity of the figure.  Some rumors tell that she was a kidnapped starlet who had run afoul of the mob, only to be throwin in the the bay wrapped in heavy chains.  Others say that she was a forgotten patient at a mental hospital, left behind when the hospital was evacuated ahead of the OblivAeon event.  When she died, her spirit returned to haunt all those who dared return to the site of the hospital, never mind that no record exists for a mental hospital ever existing in that region.  Still others claim that the figure is not a woman at all; rather, the creature was a long-haired hippie who dared protest against the deforestation of a redwood strand to create a new bypass for the San Alonzo suburbs.  Having chained himself to one of those venerable trees, he was helpless when OblivAeon rampaged across the multiverse.

For those unfortunate souls to run across Manacle during the San Alonzo recovery efforts, though, the story is alarmingly consistent.  The creature stands alone, typically amid the rubble and ruin of some long-destroyed building.  The figure does not respond to any sort of advance or greeting, only turning to face the speaker with a slowly widening maw.  To those who have dared look close enough, obeservers claim that Manacle has no true teeth--rather, she has broken shards of metal, as if links of chain were snipped in half and grew up in place of her teeth.  Around it, long chains ending in heavy cuffs and spikes whirled and writhed as if they were angry serpents.  Unfortunately, nearly every survivor who has made it close enough to see these things has died within one week of exposure to Manacle.  

To scholars of the arcane, Manacle appears to be a trapped spirit of guilt, pulled forth into this realm by the collective survivor's guilt of all those who managed to survive the OblivAeon event.  And, while Manacle is dangerous enough on its own--being flayed alive by rusted chains is a fun time for precisely no one--the insidious aura surrounding the spirit is the true danger.  The longer that a being is in Manacle's presence, the more that the guilt of their collective sins weighs upon their conscience.  Within pure minutes, Manacle can induce utter despondency, leading individuals to utter self-destruction.  

Villain of the Day:  August 14 (Doomsayer)

Ramona Fast had a reputation for being the office cynic.  Someone coughs?  Ramona was sure that everyone on the floor would be sick within the week.  A meeting appears on her OutBook calendar?  She braced for her firing interview.  Someone sends out an all-staff email?  Certainly, it meant a full disciplinary hearing.  Nevermind that Ramona was a quiet, dutiful worker who was usually pleasant to work with.

However, when disaster after disaster struck--as she watched Citizen Dawn, Grand Warlord Voss, Deadline, and Progeny wreak untold devastation year after year--something inside Ramona simply snapped.

Ramona knew it as well as anyone.  After conferring with her office's HR department, she decided to take a brief sabbatical and check herself into a local mental health ward.  The anxiety and dread she felt was simply too much.  She soon received a diagnosis for generalized anxiety and depression and entered a series of both group and individual therapy.  Her therapist, one Dr. Dale Avila, found Ramona pleasant at first, but she seemed to genuinely struggle with opening up to others, himself included.  Patients around her even started regressing, often complaining of her gloomy outlook making them reticent to discuss vital items of their own.

After three weeks of voluntary institutionalization, Ramona returned to work with no major improvements.  In fact, Ramona seemed to be worse off than ever, barely speaking to her colleagues outside of mandatory meetings.  

Within those meetings, though, something strange began to happen.  After an offhanded remark during a meeting about a recent investment strategy, their company announced a loss of nearly $4m in quarterly profits.  Three days after commenting on a coworker's choice in snacks, said coworker was wheeled out of their house on a gurney, set for a quadruple-bypass.  After mentioning the intense traffic during rush hour, three of her coworkers were injured in a multi-car pileup along the nearby interstate.

In truth, Ramona had become host to a spirit of dejection, with her merest negative suggestions causing the worst possible result in any case.  While Ramona has yet to use her powers purposefully, she has recognized her "correctness" in terms of speaking her truth.  She is not aware of the spirit of dejection's presence, however, and would likely balk at the idea of spirit possession.  Most notably, however, is that her abilities as a Doomsayer are capable of overwriting other probability-influencing powers, notably Setback's probability manipulation and The Harpy's numerological sorcery.  Within the presence of the Doomsayer, all your worst possibilities become manifest...

Villain of the Day:  August 15 (Bedlam)

So many people tend to view Megalopolis as the shining city on a hill, serving as an example to the world with its heroic beacons shining from on-high.  So many tend to forget that Megalopolis suffers the same problems as other major cities--traffic, homelessness, hunger, urban strife, and more--only proportional to match its massive size. 

Among those homeless, something from another realm has taken root.  The more spiritually-attuned have come to know it as Bedlam.

It started with a street performer.  Carly Altman ran away from home at 17, choosing to eke out a living as a busker on the streets of Megalopolis' east side, rather than deal with her fraying home life for any longer than necessary.  While a high school graduate, Carly found difficulty in finding a job, leaving her to spend her nights on the streets among the numerous homeless throughout the city.  To all outside appearances, Carly was a sweet girl, merely down on her luck and in need of a helping hand.

Which, of course, made the day she snapped all the more shocking.

In the midst of playing her saxophone along 144th Street, Carly's eyes went wide with bewilderment.  She stopped mid-song, immediately going from person to person, asking them the most basic questions:  where was she?  what day was it?  what was her name?  Each time, restaurant patrons and pedestrians shied away from her, which only drove Carly deeper into reverie.  In the frenzy known only to those in true fear, she began swinging her beloved saxophone as a weapon, injuring four restaurant patrons and nearly killing a fifth before she was restrained.  As Megalopolis police handcuffed her and escorted her from the scene, Carly snapped out of the reverie, aghast at the bloodshed upon her hands.

To this day, Carly claims no knowledge of what happened.  Her official court statement was that, "Something just descended on my mind.  Something that just doesn't understand this place, something confused and panicking.  I don't know what it is, and it's gone now.  I need help..."

Carly pled guilt by reason of insanity and was remanded to Kingsport Mental Institution, but the chaos and confusion did not stop with her.  Over the course of the next six months, no less than eight additional cases have emerged, mainly among the homeless underclass of Megalopolis.  In all cases, the accused claim an ever-growing sense of confusion and lack of understanding until something seems to override their mental faculties, lashing out with whatever weapons are closest at hand.  And woe betide any who stand in the way of understanding.

Villain of the Day:  August 16 (J.R. Milholand)

He's the keeper of the keys / He'll put your mind at ease / He's guaranteed to please / back by popular demand...

John Robert Milholand just wants to see you happy. 

A Rook City native, Milholand--JR, to those he's just meeting; Johnny to his friends--Johnny takes care of his mom, washes his car, and lives the sort of life Bryce Springsteel would be proud of.  By night, Johnny sings lead and plays guitar with "Refinery", a five man band that serves up classic rock favorites and original pieces across the Rook City bar scene.  While Johnny's a passable guitarist at best, his soulful vocals have earned him more than a few admirers over the years.

What's most unique about Johnny is that he always seems to be able to get people exactly what they need.

After a gig at the El Dorado Cantina, one of his hangers-on, a thirtys-ish woman named Alyssa, came up to Johnny in tears.  Her mom, an Overbrook High cafeteria worker, had broken her hip in a car accident.  Without health insurance--Greater Overbrook School District had downgraded their cafeteria staff to part-time hourly, thereby cutting all their benefits--Alyssa and her mom would surely lose their longtime home.  They were already behind on their mortgage, verging on bankruptcy, with homelessness waiting in the wings.

Imagine Alyssa's surprise, then, when her mortgage statement the next month came with a payment number much less than it once had been.  Her hands trembled as she read, "Your final payment:  $142.87.  Your prompt payment will conclude your mortgage obligations to Overbrook Federal Bank.  This account will be closed; congratulations on your home-ownership."

Alyssa came back to Refinery's next show, eager to tell Johnny the news.  As she related her story, Johnny gave a knowing wink, "I've got what you need, babe."

Three weeks later, the Overbrook Federal Bank exploded in a failed robbery.  

So it seems to go, so long as Johnny is around.  Individuals come to him with a problem, which gets solved almost immediately in a seemingly-miraculous way.  An experimental treatment becomes available free of cost for a dying child, a down-on-his-luck workman finds a job where he's able to take care of his two children, a college student manages to pick up a last-minute scholarship so that they can finish their degree.  But, each time something miraculous happens, within a few weeks, something karmatically disastrous happens to a group tangentially related to that individual.  The hospital suffers a major funding setback, the workman's old employer declares bankruptcy, and the university's dorm catches fire.

Never mind that.  Johnny's always got what you need.  He's guaranteed to please.

Villain of the Day:  August 17 (Mister Blank)

No one ever sees him smile.

No one ever sees him laugh or cry.  Even in the heat of combat, the mystery man known as Mister Blank could barely be said to bat an eye.  He is remorseless, unflappable, and utterly without passion.  This is, of course, because Mister Blank is utterly without emotion.  And those creatures born of such paltry 'feelings' have no choice but to await their destruction at his hands.

Marcus Wong was the first on Earth to meet his end at the hands of Mister Blank.  A US Marine overcome by impotent rage during the OblivAeon crisis, he found his mind opened to a spirit of rage which was on the verge of overwhelming him.  His screams of rage could shatter steel, flame erupted from his eyes, and tendrils of white-hot energy erupted from his very being.  When some of the new recruits of Dark Watch confronted Marcus outside of Rook City, Marcus took the recruits to the proverbial cleaners, with only the carapace-generating Locust left to frantically call for backup.

That's when Mister Blank arrived.  Wearing a simple white dress shirt and slacks, he approached the spirit-maddened Marcus.  Locust shouted for the man to get out of the way, to take cover, but Blank did not react.  Instead, Blank walked forward, confronting Marcus.  Wong lashed at Blank with his tendrils of energy, though each time Marcus attacked, Blank simply seemed to be...elsewhere.  Within seconds, Blank had closed the gap with Marcus and drawn a slender stiletto made of blackened iron.  Blank plunged it into Marcus' abdomen and white-yellow energy flared from Wong's eyes.  After but a moment, the light vanished, and Marcus Wong lay dead at Mister Blank's feet.

Locust stood, watching incredulously.  She jogged up to Blank, calling for him to drop the knife...only for Blank to simply vanish.

Mister Blank has appeared on at least four occasions since then, each time eliminating someone whose mind has been exposed to a Host spirit.  However, this fact has eluded even the most storied arcanists in the Multiverse, and The Harpy and her comrades have struggled to piece together the clues leading to the mysterious spirit-dimension.  To all appearances, Mister Blank is nothing more than yet another enigma, slaying one unfortunately soul after another, his black iron blade long stained red from the blood of the unwitting.

Villain of the Day:  August 18 (Mercy)

Registered nurse Allie Amspaugh worked the night shift at Saint Marguerite's Hospice Care Facility.  She didn't mind the late hours--Allie was a night owl all the way through college and dreaded waking up the morning--so the 10pm-6am shift at the nurses' station didn't faze her.

Nor did the continual cycle of death.

While Saint Marguerite's was well known for its cancer-treatment center and its cardiologists, the facility had become best known for its hospice care, providing end of life services and comfort for the elderly in their final weeks and months.  While not numb to the issues of her patients, Allie had found ways to put her sadness aside and simply provide the best possible care for her patients as she could.

However, Allie was not alone.

Three in the morning.  All was quiet on the 8th floor.  While Allie's monitors slowly made their paces through the patient rooms, her leftmost monitor was already set on one the newest season of a favorite QuikFlix show, ready to continue through her shift with ease. 

But then...a flick of motion caught the corner of her left eye.  A female figure, clad in the sort of old-timey nurse's outfit one might expect from the 50s.  Black Mary Janes padded their way towards Allie's nurses station as the woman came closer.  Allie eyed the nurse up:  no ID hung from her outfit; her eyes were a deep, mournful brown and her skin just a shade too pale.

"Can I see your ID, please?" Allie's voice quavered, "Visiting hours are over; you are staff, right?"

The woman nodded, proceeding to ignore Allie's questions utterly, "These patients...they are all going to die, aren't they?"

Allie cocked her head, "I mean, well..." She struggled to come up with the corporate, sanitized answer, "I'm not at liberty to discuss individual cases, but many of the individuals here are elderly and approaching the end.  However, we have a number of..."

As Allie moved to make eye contact once more, the woman already started walking down the hall toward the patient rooms.  Within an instant, the figure was at the far end of the hallway, as Allie herself struggled to stand, her legs feeling weak and flimsy.

The woman raised her arms; as she did, every monitor and sensor in the wing erupted in cacaphony.  Heart monitors flatlined, breathing monitors squealed.  Allie fell to her knees as emergency personnel rushed in.  However, the damage had been done:  not a single patient on the 8th floor of Saint Marguerite's survived.

Allie's claims as to the mysterious woman went all but uninvestigated.  With so few details beyond brown eyes and pale skin, none could imagine what could cause such an anomaly.  Some believe that it may have been a gas leak or some other environmental strangeness, but others?  Even the most cold-hearted would never think of this as Mercy.

Villain of the Day:  August 19 (Blackout)

The entire staff of the Overbrook Utility Workers Federal Credit Union awoke with a start.

Collectively, the 20-odd persons in the bank looked at one another blearily.  Security Guard Blevins slowly rose from where he lay, slumped against one of the credit union's faux-marble columns.  Bank teller Linda Iler picked her head up from her station wearily, a postie-note still half-stuck to her cheek.  Manager Willard Thomas stretched and yawned, rising from his ergonomic office chair to address his employees, "What just happened?  All I can remember is being just...so tired..."

Meanwhile, half a city away, Eric Tucker was already mentally counting his ill-gotten gains and working on coming with a codename.  Somnor?  No...too weird.  The Sandman?  No, that's cheesy.  Blackout!  Now there's a name...

For years, Eric labored along an assembly line in a less-than-nice portion of Rook City, putting bolts onto heavy machinery parts for Pike Industries.  However, the long house of tedium and unpaid overtime soon began to take their toll on his mental and physical health.  Despite working for 12-14 hours a day, Eric found himself laying awake at night, wishing for some degree of sleep.  HIs eyes were bleary, his gait was slow, and he often had to have people repeat instructions to him, simply so they would stick.  Simply put, Eric was exhausted.  He had tried to put in a vacation-request with his supervisor, but each time,  it was declined:  "Too much to do; we'll buy out your vacation time at the end of the year."  Money was hardly the problem--Eric never had time to spend any of it, with so many hours put in at the plant--he just needed sleep.

A night like many others, Eric sat awake, staring at the Later Than Late Show, watching a has-been comedian rattle off yet another slapstick routine, when a wave of nausea washed over him.  In an instant, Eric dashed to the bathroom, his head hanging over the toilet as he dry-heaved away.  But, as nothing came out, Eric sat on the edge of his bathtub and held his head in his hands....and slept.

Something entered Eric's mind that night; something willing to bargain with him.  It told him, quite clearly, that it could take away all this.  It could give away all that exhaustion and fatigue, leaving him as bright and fresh as a spring rain shower.  He'd never have to sleep again; others would do it for him, with but a wave of the hand.  Eric--exhausted and not quite thinking straight--was on board with this plan immediately.  The spirit of enervation that bonded with him that day eagerly spread its influence; every ounce of exhaustion or fatigue that Eric felt, it could distribute to others near him, slowing their steps, and driving them to sleep or even unconsciousness.  Meanwhile, Eric grew all the more vigorious, sustained by otherworldly energies that replaced his basic needs.

Eric, as Blackout, is fairly unambitious in terms of his newfound powers.  While he regularly lets his mental companion "out to play", he mainly does so in ways that will allow him a bit of extra cash or some material possession he desires.  Eric has long since quit his job at Pike Industrial, though he did come into work one last time to drop off his resignation, and to ensure that his slave-driving supervisor took a little catnap in front of an active loading zone.  As is, Eric is more than content to live up the high-life, never sleeping or even requiring rest, but always eager to inflict it on others.

If I had this power, I would absolutely be a villain.

Although you could always help out people with insomnia...

Villain of the Day:  August 20 (The Forlorn Boy)

As found on the Rook City Global IRC Channel SubReadr:

"Go to the front desk at any mental institution at 2:38 in the morning.  Be precise with the time; you must arrive exactly at 2:38, or this won't work.  

"There, at the desk, a sleepy-eyed worker will be staring at their computer.  Do not address them.  Do not speak to them.  Do not even look at them.  Sign in on the sign-in sheet and begin walking towards the main wards."

"The desk-worker will call to you three times.  If you speak after the first or second time, she will leap upon you and tear out your throat with their teeth.  Your death will be as slow and painful as it will be bloody.  You must wait until the third time, at which point you must whip about, look the worker in the eyes, and scream at them, 'I will not be impeded!'

"The worker will freeze in their tracks, their eyes flashing a sickly green as they back off.  They will kneel at your feet and offer their servitude, but to do so is to abandon your quest.  Instead, ask the worker, 'Where has The Forlorn One been hidden?'  The worker will point down the hallway and hold their head in their hands, pleading with you not to go.  If you wish to leave, leave now--it will be your only chance to retain your sanity.

"Make your way down the hall into the wards.  The farther you go, the more the scenery will warp and twist, degenerating into a ruin with each step you take.  The doors are not numbered, though you will surely hear things to harrow your soul and tempt your darkest urges behind them.  Do not tarry there, or you are surely lost.  Keep focus and walk to the end of the hall, then place your hand against the weathered concrete wall.  

"You will hear him before you see him.  Your hand will grow cold as frost caresses the concrete blocks, coating your hand and wrist.  You must not pull away, or your hand will shatter like so much glass.  You must not scream, or the ice will coat your lungs and you will die breathless.  Weather the pain and close your eyes.  In an instant, the wall beneath your fingertips will vanish and the frost will abate.  With your eyes closed, you must push ahead.

"Whatever you do, do not open your eyes.  To look upon The Forlorn Boy is to take his place, lost and forgotten by all mankind.  He will ask you how you found him; you must not answer.  You must say to him only one thing:  a single question that leads unto that hidden truth that none could have possibly seen.  If you have made it this far and have followed the steps correctly, The Forlorn Boy will answer you, though beware the path, which will be haunted for the rest of your days.  If you have misstepped, the Boy will be upon you taking each of your senses, one by one, until you awaken to the rest of your days in abject misery.

"If The Forlorn Boy has answered your question, you have but scant moments to flee.  He will plead with you to stay, to talk, to not consign him back to his eternal loneliness, but you must not hesitate.  To hesitate means to take his place.  Flee back down the hallway into the darkness...

"You will awaken upon the street outside the mental institution.  In your mind shall burn the answer to the question you asked, though for the rest of your days, only one form will ever greet your eyes in the mirror:  that of the boy you left in darkness, in pursuit of that which you seek.  Forget him not."

That is some top-tier creepypasta. :D

I wish I could take credit for the format of this one, but the style is based on a now-defunct creepypasta-esque site known as The King of Wolves.
“The Objects” series from that site would fit right at home in the SCP Foundation or MarbleHornets.

Villain of the Day:  August 21 (Conquest)

Waldemar Heinig wanted to win.  He simply didn't care whom he ran over in pursuit of victory.

A South African long-distance runner, Waldemar was a 6-time Johannesburg Triathalon winner when he branched out into power-lifting and hammer throw.  At the Olympics two years prior, Waldemar brought home no less than 8 medals...only one of which was gold.

When he returned from those games, Waldemar was incensed.  His trainers did their best to console him--the track was not ideal, his shoes were not those that he typically preferred, the water in the area had a higher than normal sulfite content--but Waldemar would hear none of this.  He trained harder than ever before; he dropped to 4% body fat, he crosstrained in ways that most trainers would warn away from, all in the pursuit of those elusive gold medals.

Waldemar knew he couldn't resort to juicing or steroids to win his medals, but there had to be something more he could do beyond his 24/7 training regimen.  As it turned out, all he needed was a deal with the proverbial devil.

While Apostate's voice had been ominously quiet throughout the OblivAeon event, he saw in Waldemar quite the promising opportunity.  Through proxy followers--and more than a little long-forgotten magic--Apostate called forth a spirit of triumph to touch Waldemar's mind.  The pair were so alike in temperament that their personalities enmeshed, twisting and morphing Waldermar's body.  Apostate smiled, "Conquest is what you wanted; Conquest is what you shall be!"

Within mere days, it became obvious to all those around him that Waldemar was no longer concerned with mere medals and trophies.  Rather, he looked to the world's heroes and immediately thought:  "I must be more than man.  More than alien.  I will best them *all*."  Imbued with an absurd degree of strength, stamina, and quickness, Waldemar immediately turned his eyes to Megalopolis, where these heroes could be found and cast down...

Villain of the Day:  August 22 (Anamnesis)

Jean Barclay could have sworn she'd been here before.  

She stood in the middle of the sidewalk adjoining to James Madison Avenue, staring up at the sun.  She looked around frantically.  There was the bodega; she'd never been inside, though the smell of a freshly-grilled sandwich wafted out.  She whipped to her left:  there was the construction worker, leaning against the inactive jackhammer, wiping his brow and chatting with a fellow workman.  Behind him, the single mother, holding her daughter by the hand as they waited for the stoplight.

Jean looked to the sky as she'd done so many times before.  "I can't look up.  Why am I looking up?  I looked up last time, didn't I?"

Overhead, the streaks of multiple spacecraft cast red-orange fire through the atmosphere.  "I can't scream.  I screamed last time.  I can't point, I can't...what am I supposed to do instead?!"

Even as her mind screamed against it, Jean found her left hand rising to point, found her voice shouting an alarm to all those around her.  This was how it happened before.  This was how she died.  Jean trembled on the sidewalk, even as all those around her flew into a panic.  The workman dropped the jackhammer with a hefty clang; the bodega owner slammed his door shut, flipping the faded sign from 'Open' to 'Closed'.

Jean dropped to her knees, "What do I do?  What do you want me to do?!  Tears streamed down her face as the first of the laser blasts hit.  The earth trembled beneath the impact, brick and mortar shattered as tumbled from the building above her.  Still crying, Jean waited for the bricks to hit...

*    *     *     *     *     *     *

Jean Barclay could have sworn she'd been here before.  And she wasn't the only one...

Villain of the Day:  August 23 (Seethe)

The door to the decript manse exploded in a spray of wood splinters.  In the doorway stood The Harpy, each of her hands orbited by floating white-yellow runes.  She swiftly surveyed the interior of the mansion:  only a dusty hardwood floor and a few pieces of cloth-covered furniture awaited her entrance.  As Huginn and Muninn soared in over her shoulder and alighted on the banister, Harpy activated her hands-free comms device.

"I'm in.  Hemogoblin, anything on the roof?"

"Roof's clear; I'm headed in through the east side, second story."

"Enigma, anything at the back door?"  

The investigator quickly responded, "Nothing.  Door's open, though.  I'm heading in."

The trio converged in the central hall of the manse, surveying the carnage at the foot of the grand staircase.  Nearly twenty bodies, clad in the robes and regalia of the Cult of Gloom lay ravaged in the hall, their bodies torn and rent asunder.  Harpy extended her hands, and the dim blow from her runes spread throughout the room, illuminating the area.  

"The Dunston Sect.  All of them..."

Enigma cracked his knuckles, "...looks like they saved us the trouble." 

Hemogoblin, however, pointed to a blood-soaked scroll, sticking out from beneath the body of one of the cultists. "This wasn't planned, I don't think.  There's a ritual scroll here..."

With a gesture from Harpy, Munnin snatched up the scroll and delivered it to its master's hand.  "This is a summoning ritual; not surprising, all told, but..."

"But what?" Hemogoblin walked closer, "What's wrong?"

Harpy hesitated, "...this ritual has nothing to do with Gloomweaver or the Realm of Discord.  Why would Gloom cultists hope to summon that isn't one of Gloomweaver's minions?  What would they have to gain?"

Enigma squinched his eyes in contemplation, "Maybe they decided that something else might be able to aid them.  Doesn't look like whatever came through had any interest in helping..." 

Hemogoblin peered over Harpy's shoulder, "I can't read this script, but I can pick out a few words.  'Implacable'?  'Tireless'?  Maybe something to do with continual or continuation..."  Harpy nodded, "I can do a full translation back at the Aerie, but for now, let's gather what evidence we can while we're here."

Enigma knelt beside a group of bodies, slipping on a latex examination glove as he looked closer, "...lots of deep abdominal incisions.  Something was pulled out of each of them.

A solitary drip caught the Hemogoblin's attention, falling from the arched ceiling onto his shoe.  The fledgling blood mage made the mistake of looking up, "Um...what's that?"

The Harpy extended her hands once more, the runes intensifying and brightening.  Smeared onto the ceiling in the bile from each of the Gloom cultists were a series of shifting, swirling sigils.  Within moments, all three of the heroes could clearly read the sigils' intent:  "Children of Gloom, I come for you..."

Seethe should recruit Writhe and a super-spinning would-be hero named Lathe to go after the Cult of Gloom, just because of the assonance. :V

Villain of the Day:  August 24 (Voracity)

Chris McNamara pushed the trolley out of the kitchen at the Friendly Feast Gourmet Buffet, heading for the salad bar section.  He hated his job, but in this economy, being a prep cook was as good a way to earn money as any.  While he'd gone to school for web design, the tech bubble crash left him without a job and his brother-in-law was the manager, so his space at FFGB was all but assured.

It wasn't so much the preparation or the cooking that bothered him; Chris was a competent enough cook, and he could chop lettuce with the best of them.  Rather, it was the patrons.  The bloated, gluttonous patrons who drifted from station to station, filling up plate after plate, bowl after bowl.  Little children scuttled like vermin to and from the soft-serve ice cream machine, while overweight seniors waddled along the hot bar.

Worst of all, though, was the carving station.  Chris was on-duty at the carving station at least twice a week, slicing roast chicken, "prime rib", or some other slow-roasted meat for the customers.  Their drooling, insipid faces simply drove him up a wall.  More than once, Chris pictured himself carving up a patron like so much trussed chicken, his carving knife whickering off chunks of patron with each slice.  While he kept such thoughts to himself, even his closest friends among the co-workers starting giving him a wide berth.

But, thoughts remained thoughts alone...until a brief accident at the carving station.  Placed out on the floor when Mark, the originally scheduled carver, called in sick, Chris was already in a foul mood when he took up his knife and meat fork.  For about two hours, all was well.  However, while slicing off a portion of roast beef for an elderly woman, Chris simply slipped.  His fine German steel knife slipped off the meat fork, catching himself across the forearm.  

Immediately, Chris dropped into an utter diatribe, cursing violently and clutching at his bleeding arm.  He screamed in the old woman's face, blaming her and all the patrons for bringing him to this.  The vitriol Chris spewed was like something out of an Internet rant and, as it turned out, something simply couldn't resist the combination of hate and hunger on that buffet floor.

The very building of the Friendly Feast erupted into an amorphous being of food and crushed plexiglass and detritus, as it manifested a crushing maw and swallowed the still-screaming Chris.  It rampaged through the husk of the building, devouring all within its path with a Voracity not seen outside the most arcane circles.

Some arcane scholars have compared the Friendly Feast creature to that of known Gloom-cultist "Missy the Maw", though Voracity does not seem to be a demon or a denizen of the Realm of Discord.  Rather, it seems possessed only of a hunger for all things:  living, non-living, organic, inorganic.  All will be consumed...

Villain of the Day:  August 25 (Nurse Nora)

Bill Castleman hated going to the dentist.  For years, he'd put it off, citing a good habit of brushing and thrice-daily mouthwash to keep his teeth free of cavities.  It wasn't the actual act of going to the dentist that bothered him, mind you; rather, he had a solid realtionship with his family doctor and didn't even mind his first colonoscopy that much.

Rather, it was that noise:  the subtle grinding whirr of a drill against enamel, followed by that hot metallic odor of something being ground away.  That sound, that scent kept Bill a long way from the dentists' office for years.

Thanksgiving Day, though, Bill met his match.  In the midst of his pecan pie, Bill felt something snap in his mouth, followed by a blast of white-hot pain through the left side of his jaw.  Bill howled, "My tooth!  I think I broke a tooth!"  Like it or not, something had to be done.

Bill's daughter, Emma, was quick on the button:  "Dad, there's only one place open right now.  It's a holiday.  If you can wait until tomorrow..."  Her dad's moans from the couch, where his jaw was buried in a bag of frozen peas, said it all.  It had to be tonight.

The drive to the Urgent Dental Care was not one that Bill typically liked to make.  Just off of an isolated highway on the west side of town, the waiting room had an all-too familiar septic reek.  Within minutes, Bill was taken into the back.  Emma never saw him again.

Bill lay back in the chair, awaiting the dental assistant with the bag of peas still pushed against his jaw.  They had started to thaw; nothing was really working at this point.  He sat up slightly as the door opened; a tall, slim woman stalked into the room.  Bill nodded to her, but she said nothing, simply placing her tools onto the table.  A mirror, a series of dental picks, a drill head.  Bill's eyes widened as she turned on the light above him.  

"I'm Nurse Nora.  Won't you please open," she requested firmly.  Bill found himself compelled as he lay back, opening his mouth as wide as he could.  The woman picked up the mirror in one hand, a pick in the other, and began examining Bill.

Bill shuddered as the pick slowly moved from tooth to tooth across his mouth, finding its way ever closer to his cracked molar.  He winced in pain, closing his mouth just slightly, as the woman scowled.  "No.  You will remain open."

Bill felt both his eyes and mouth open wider as the woman rotated the pick into the broken socket of his tooth.  Bill winced in agony, trying desperately not to scream.  A low moan of pain resonated in his throat as the woman smiled.  Slowly, she began pressing, the pick driving deeper in.  Tears streamed down Bill's face as he screamed.

"No.  You'll stop that now." She said quite dispassionately.  Bill complied immediately, his body following her every order, even as his mind screamed at him to get up, to leave, to attack her, to do something.  Instead, he laid back, openly crying as he opened his mouth wider.

The woman smiled in a broad, sadistic grin.  It was just then that Bill noticed something truly wrong.  Her lips parted to reveal a set of sharp incisors...then another...then another...  Row upon row of teeth, stacked like that of a shark, devouring, feeding, feasting.  Bill's eyes widened as the tears came rolling down even harder.  

Villain of the Day:  August 26  (Reverie)

All that Aliza Maxwell could do was watch.

After a pulling a double-shift at the restaurant, all Aliza wanted to do was sit back with some of her leftovers--the stuff left over from the staff meal at Cromwell's Steakhouse--and watch some late night television.  As she tucked into a slightly-dried-out baked potato and a steak just slightly too done for her taste, the house band reached a cresendo and the announcer boomed out an introduction for comedian Chip Carlson. 

Four days later, the fire department burst into Aliza's apartment.  She sat cross-legged, barely-breathing, unmoving, staring at the static-covered screen.  All attempts to garner her attention were for naught; it was as if Aliza was in some sort of Reverie.  That is, however, until one of the firefighters turned off the tv.  Instantly, Aliza flew into a scratching, biting rage, to the point where the paramedics on-scene were forced to sedate her.

After being taken to the local hospital, the mystery only deepened:  Aliza was acutely dehydrated and on the verge of organ failure, desipte the fact that the meal she had heated up--including a full glass of apple juice--sat directly in front of her on the coffee table.  She claimed to have no memory of the past four days, but rather, only of Chip Carlson.  In her own words, "He called my name..."

Aliza related her entire story to police authorities which led to a brief (and fruitless) investigation.  She claimed that Chip strode out onto the sound stage of his talk show, but began to speak specifically to her.  He coaxed her to relax, to sit, to get comfy and to just listen to the sound of his voice.  However, as the evening wore on, Chip never left the screen.  The show would change, the scene would change, but Chip would remain.  The early 4am news?  Chip was behind the newsdesk.  The 10am soap operas?  Chip sat on the couch as Lady Edderly slapped her evil twin for embezzling the company's money.  The 3pm game show?  Chip was up on stage, watching Morgann try to guess the price of turtle wax.  He never left.  He was just there, with his comforting, peaceable voice keeping her transfixed.  

Representatives for both Chip Carlson and his agent could not be reached for comment.

Villain of the Day:  August 27 (The Troll)

Maria raced off the bus, flew through the front door, dropped her backpack onto the couch and practically leapt up the stairs to her bedroom.  Within seconds, she was in her computer chair, ready to post the latest entry to her ongoing video blog.  She logged onto her laptop, pulled up her UToob administrator page, and her eyes went wide:  687 new comments!  

For an instant, Maria's elation couldn't be contained.  Then she made the mistake of reading the comments.

Comment after comment, downvote after downvote, the comments were as thorough as they were merciless.  The nameless, faceless audience lambasted poor Maria for everything from the color of her tank top ("She looks like a salmon filet.  Fish-girl!") to the wallpaper on the far-side of the room, ("She lives in a fracking hovel!  How does she aford a computer???").  Maria slammed closed the laptop and threw herself down on her bed in tears.

That lasted for all of 10 minutes.  Maria, if nothing else, was resourceful.  And, while she wasn't a computer expert, she certainly knew two people who were:  her friend Sherri and Sherri's twin brother, Shaun.  Both Sherri and Shaun went to the local STEM school, focusing on computer programming and networking.  They regularly spent their weekends at science competitions and museums and were, without a doubt, the smartest people Maria knew.  At an offer of take-out Chinese and as much Peak Quench as they could drink, the twins made their way to Maria's house to begin solving the mystery.

Now, after wiping away her tears and catching her breath, Maria was savvy enough on the way over to copy/paste the comments into a Noter document.  That's when the weirdness started.

Sherri noticed it first.  The comments simply didn't line up.  The items that appeared in Maria's Noter document simply didn't appear on any of her 27 vlog entries, nor did any of the associated screennames.  UToob's policy had always been to replace abusive comments with a corporate-sounding, "This comment has not met our community standards and has been removed."  These comments simply morphed into other insults, in a different order, which changed each time the page was refreshed.  However, Shaun did manage to find a single comment that stayed static, a sexist slur from someone calling themselves HryngarIceOgre.  A quick search revealed that Hyrngar had, in fact, posted precisely once on each of Maria's videos.

At that, Maria's phone buzzed:  a text message from an unknown number....with offensive text strangely similar to that of Hyrngar...

While Shaun and Maria called the police, Sherri continued to flex her online acumen.  After tracing Hyrngar's IP address through several proxy sites, Sherri found that the source code originated at the corporate headquarters for a JoyTech Limited, an app producer based out of the Roanoake, Virginia area.  Could they be monetizing internet outrage somehow, Sherri muttered to herself.  As a squad car pulled up outside Maria's house and Sherri and Maria saved their files, one last text message arrived:  "You'll regret that..."

Villain of the Day:  August 28 (Whatever)

Petty though he might be, Guise could hardly be said to be the type to ever give up.  After a single afternoon with Whatever?  Even the Best. Hero. Ever. threw up his hands and just walked away.

Alyson McCray was nothing short of the stereotypical jaded teenager.  Her phone was latched to her hand at all hours; regardless of where she went, she was clad in a loose tank top and yoga pants; and any request of Alyson that didn't actively involve her social circle was dismissed with that classic scoff/eyeroll combo.  While generally supportive, Alyson's parents found that the best (read: most convenient) way to deal with their daughter was to simply let her off on her own.

...which of course, made her a prime locus for a spirit of cynicism.  While Alyson was vaguely aware of her powers--despite being unaware of her Host-hitchhiker--said powers manifested in relatively subtle ways.  If she told a nosy mall security guard to shut up, the guard found himself unable to talk whatsoever.  With a single gesture, she could telekinetically flick away anyone who bothered her.  And, of course, messages on her phone became imperious commands to any she needed to text; the recipient became naught but a sycophant to her teenage whims.  Her response to this, of course?  "Whatever..."

Enter Guise.  Looking to swing by his local Knead to Relax to pick up a new massage chair, Guise wandered into the Central Plaza Mall hoping to make this a quick visit.  As he passed by a SinnaMon Stand (and while licking the delectable vanilla-bean icing from his fingers), Guise couldn't help but note the swarm of teenagers approaching.  A gaggle of at least fifty teens milled about, carrying various packages and each attempting to vie for "just a quick selfie" or an ExtraGram post with Alyson.  

This set Guise off like none other.  Swarmed by teenagers, he lost his temper, screaming somewhat unintelligibly about his massage chair and how these teenagers were "lazy layabouts who need a job!"  Whatever looked up from her phone for but a minute, rolled her eyes, and telekinetically splattered Guise into the front of a Cavolero's Calzones.  Pulling himself together, Guise charged forward, only to be immediately halted by a single raised finger from Whatever.  By the time that Guise managed to snap out of it, Alyson and her entourage were long gone.

At that, Guise simply gave up.  "Fine!" he said, "You win!  I'm out!  I'm done!  Teenagers today....argh!"  Whatever is still at large...

Villain of the Day:  August 29 (Ignition)

Iyo, the crystalline metahuman mercenary recruiter, thought he had stumbled onto a gold mine with Ignition.  What Iyo actually found in Ignition, though was a loose cannon in every sense of the word.  Unfortunately for the world, cutting Ignition loose meant that a provacateur unlike any other was free to wander the world.

On one of his typical recruiting travels, Iyo caught word of the man called Ignition in southern Spain.  Riots and insurgency surrounding government corruption had broken out in numerous cities, with protestors clashing with police and military authorities across the region.  At the core of them, however, was one particular metahuman--a slim, dark-complexioned man who seemed to be at each and every one of these demonstrations, in some violent capacity. 

Sitting down with Ignition for the first time--who, even then, refused to give Iyo his real name--Iyo nearly punched him in the face.  No matter what Ignition said, Iyo could just feel himself grow agitated and aggravated, spurred to some kind of violent action.  Looking down at the cafe table, Iyo blinked, and a combat knife suddenly appeared on the table itself.  He blinked again, and the knife became a firearm.  A third blink and it morphed into a Molotov cocktail.  Each time, he felt his rage and aggravation irrationally grow.

"So...now you see what I bring to the table?"  Ignition smiled like the cat that swallowed the canary. 

Iyo shook his head as if coming out of a reverie, "I think I do...how do you feel about sub-Saharan Africa?"

Within days, Iyo signed Ignition to a contract and sent the firebrand to Chad, with instructions to meet with a group of anti-government insurgents.

After only an hour with those insurgents, the entire group found themselves in a firefight, nearly eradicating the whole of the insurgents.  WIthin three hours, the violence had spread into the capital, N'Djamena, with the military calling in armored cavalry to put down the chaos.  The incident was on national news within the day, and the UN Security Council voted to move in peacekeeping troops within a week.

Iyo was infuriated.  He demanded an explanation from Ignition, but the firebrand was nowhere to be found...he had already left to find some other international arena in which to sow discord...

Villain of the Day: August 30 (The Gold Wyrm)

Let's be clear: dragons don't exist. Any stories about flying lizards over the Cotswolds are nothing more than the fanciful tales of old women, told to children before bedtime. That hasn't stopped countless would-be treasure hunters from combing the Cotswolds in search of The Great Gold Wyrm and its legendary hoard.

The story goes that the dragon wasn't always in this form. Rather, he was one of Arthur's earliest knights, who joined the Round Table as a way to gain political power and wealth. When it became clear that Arthur was more concerned with foolish notions of justice and peace, the knight left Camelot, in search of his fortune elsewhere.

In a long forgotten Thulian ruin, he found that fortune. An ancient artifact, being with power, promised to give the knight his heart's desire. Of course, the knight asked for untold wealth and the means to protect it. His body twisted and writhed, splitting his armor and tearing his clothing. He grew to an immense size, his skin morphed to golden scales, and his fingers sprouted talon-like claws. He had become a beast literally made of gold: a dragon.

However, the knight had neglected one major issue. He couldn't leave the ruins. While the chamber with the now-burnt-out artifact was big enough to house him, he could not even come close to fitting through any exit. Cursing his shortsightedness, the great gold wyrm did the only thing it could. It slept. To this day, treasure hunters seek out the caverns in the Cotswolds, hoping to find even a single scale from the cursed knight.

As the legend goes, even a single scale from the wyrm is enough gold to make a man fabulously wealthy...

Villain of the Day:  August 31  (JoyTech Limited)

It's said that magic is just technology that we have yet to fully comprehend.  JoyTech Limited banks on that lack of comprehension.

Originally founded in the mid-80s under the name CompUTech Global, JoyTech was one of the first to jump onto the third-party app creation wave that hit with the advent of the smartphone.  Their games Hopping Billy, Mad Mad Mushrooms, and The AxeRealm Trilogy have been acclaimed hits, with millions of downloads worldwide.  However, JoyTech also created and supports a number of other apps ranging from fitness and wellness trainers, to grocery lists that comparison-shop in real time, and a particularly notable holiday app known as Santa's Wish List. 

Since its brand conversion in the late 1990s, JoyTech has been headed by one Yonas Tesfay Osman, an Eritrean-born man who spent most of his life living in Belgium before moving to the United States.  Osman had always had a head for technology, but he knew full-well the power to be found in the strange, occult corners of the universe.  His great-aunt Ruta was rumored to be a hedge mage of some repute, with villagers approaching her to cast out demons, perform healing and cleansing rituals, and to brew up various herbal tinctures and balms.

Osman, though?  He knew there had to be a better way than moldering old books and dried herbs.  He made it his life's work to bridge the gap between magic and technology, through new and innovative programming.

You see, each of the apps that JoyTech produces has code embedded within its program that enacts an ongoing arcane ritual loop.  Each time the app is booted up, the loop restarts, allowing a tiny wisp of a Host spirit through to this world which then influences the app user.  Generally speaking, the apps are programmed globally:  Santa's Wish List, for instance, inspires feelings of avarice and want; their fitness app BetterU! inspires feelings of disgust and self-loathing such that the user will want to use the app more often to lose more weight and 'feel better'; The AxeRealm Trilogy inspires feelings of self-grandeur and an inflated sense of ego.

In all cases, the JoyTech apps rely on supernatural and more conventional feedback loops to keep users 'entertained' and enthralled.  JoyTech's annual profits now approach nearly $600m US per year, with a half of those profits coming from in-app purchases.  Osman has a literal legion of programmers and designers at his disposal at this point, each of which have been trained to include bits of "Host Code" into their work, to acheive the desired effects.  While some of these have utilized this talent for their own means, most of the software programmers have been content to enjoy their six-figure salaries, their company benefits, and numerous other perks.  Osman, though?  He'll just continue to reap the benefits of bridging the magic-technology gap.

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And that brings us to the end of AugHost!  Starting tomorrow, we're beginning a "September to Remember"--a series of villains directly linked to the past of one of the canon characters of Sentinels of the Multiverse.   See you then!

Welcome to a September to Remember!  All the villains this September will feature a character from the past of an already-extant character from the canon Sentinels of the Multiverse timeline.  

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Villain of the Day:  September 1 (Edouard Beauchamp, aka Edouard Cobalt)

Like his father before him, Paul Nathaniel Parsons did his best to serve his newfound country.  His hardiness and quickness made him an ideal scout and, with the newly purchased Louisiana territory requiring a great deal of scouting and surveying, Paul took up the American virtue of manifest destiny and began to travel this great continent.  However, as British aggression reared its head once more during the War of 1812, Paul found himself in the deep south, aiding in the American war effort.

It was at Villere Plantation that Parsons came upon one of the earliest forerunners of the modern Cult of Gloom.

The Villere Plantation was owned by a French expatriate named Edouard Beauchamp, who had made his fortune employing refugees from Saint-Domininique.  Beauchamp offered steady work and housing on his plantation, while the refugees offered something truly unique.  Beauchamp was fascinated by the Haitians' beliefs in the loa, curses, and Voudoun, and began putting together a massive libram of their rituals, of the various Voudoun gods they worshipped, and of the powers that could be exploited from those gods.  The most powerful, he found, was a massive skull-headed creature known as Papa nan Teneb, who was the focus of so many of the ancient rituals.

As the British attempted to maintain the blockade of New Orleans, battle found its way to Beauchamp's doorstep, and he called out to aid from the US forces. Paul's commander, Lieutenant Spotts, took up a post on the outskirts of the Villere plantation, only to find that rumors of Beauchamp's predilictions spread quickly throughout the American encampment.  As the British bore down on the plantation, Paul took it upon himself to do some investigating, showing his commanding officer just a handful of the rituals that Beauchamp had been enacting alongside his Voudoun-following workers.

Two days before Christmas 1813, the battle was joined.  History dictated it as a "Battle in the Dark", wherein Americans fought British hand to hand along the levees, each fearing to use artillery for the chance of hitting their own men.  In truth, the battle was a three way battle.  Having learned the nature of what went on on Beauchamp's plantation, Spotts ordered Parsons to lead a contingent to take the plantation, even as the British converged upon it.  Fighting quickly descended into a three way battle between Beauchamp, the Americans, and the British.  While Paul managed to take the plantation, Beauchamp and his most trusted workers had escaped with all manner of occult implements and rituals before the plantation-house itself was put to the torch.

Buoyed by the eldritch power from Papa nan Teneb--known more colloquially as Gloomweaver--Edouard Beauchamp, now calling himself Edouard Cobalt, has lasted well beyond his years.  While his form resembles nothing so much as a berobed skeleton at this point, Beauchamp commands powerful arcane forces and would eagerly see the line of Legacies end at his hand.  And, with Pauline so recently having taken up the Legacy mantle, it may well be time for Cobalt to strike!

Hey Platinum , have you ever explained the reason why each month has that particular theme ?

Like I see no correlation between September and the past

Honestly… because September rhymes with remember? I couldn’t think of a better theme, so I ran with that.
At first, I was doing alliterative ones (Foreign February, Mystic March), but I started hitting issues in the Js.

Also, today’s villain is going to be delayed. I just got back after spending 6+ hours at the hospital with my mother in law. Today’s villain and tomorrow’s will be up tomorrow afternoon.

Sorry. Hope everything’s ok.

I don't think anyone will complain if you miss one (or more), PlatinumWarlock. Priorities are important. Best wishes! 

Villain of the Day:  September 2 (Kriegsherr)

Vernon Carter leveled his flak cannon at the stone wall.  The brigade behind him held M1s and combat shotguns at the ready, eager to take on any resistance that might be within.  Holding up his hand, Vernon counted down...3, 2, 1...  A thunderous "CHOOM!" rang out as the stone wall blew open and the GIs surged into the breach.

Within, German and Austrian scientists swarmed over lab equipment, desperate to pack up their findings as the war wound down.  Now, in late 1944, the Allies were surging through occupied France, with designs on Berlin by spring.  The Axis conquest was all but a dream now, and survival was more important than Der Fuhrer's mad schemes.  The massive American Bunker suit stomped through the hole in the wall, with GIs swarming in around it.  Gunshots rang out, but the conflict looked to be well and truly in the Americans' hands.

That is, however, until Kriegsherr rose up through the concrete stairwell.  Alighting atop the landing near the north end of the lab, Kriegsherr gestured over the crowd, "Amerikanner!  You will die this day!"  Lightning streamed from his hands, slamming into two GIs and sizzling over the Bunker suit.  The suit sizzled and popped as Vernon slid open the main hatch, "Joe!  Get him out of here!"

A wiry, dark-haired man in the rear of the regiment stepped into the lab.  Rather than dressed in fatigues and helmet, he wore the trenchcoat and fedora accustomed to him in his private eye practice.  In his left arm was cradled a crimson tome, bearing a single unblinking eye surrounded by eldritch symbols.  Joe unfurled the text, which opened and levitated in front of him, as both hands alighted with misty white energy.  A piercing squeal echoed through the chamber as German and American alike clutched at their ears, though Joe began a chant that none of those in attendance could recognize.  

A slithery, mist-covered tentacle slid its way up Kriegsherr's leg.  Shaken to alarm, the super-soldier blasted the appendage with lightning, but a second, then a third tentacle grappled at his arms and legs.  "Amerikanner!  This is not the end!" he screamed, as the tentacles dragged him off into darkness...never to be seen again.

American military records list the raid as a complete success.  Only two American fatalities were recorded, with numerous German scientists and strategicians captured, along with numerous pieces of military intelligence.  The name Kriegsherr, however, does not appear in any such record.  

Villain of the Day:  September 3 (Subject 13)

Pete Riske walked into the room that would become his home for the duration of the medical experiments.  The cell was more than a little sterile, with gray sheets, a slim mattress, and steel shelves upon which he could put his possessions.  A name-tag sat atop the vanity; Pete picked it up and turned to the Ms. Valentine, the RevoCorp representative who has been supervising his orientation.

"Who's Gary Wilson?"

Ms. Valentine blanched just slightly, palming the ID.  "Oh, Mister Wilson was one of our former subjects.  He's since been released from the program; I'll be sure this gets back to him...  Is there anything I can get you, Mister Riske?"  Pete smiled and shook his head, as Valentine closed the door and left the company's newest test subject to get accustomed to his accomodations.  As she tiptoed down the hall, Valentine dropped the ID into the trash.  After all, Gary Wilson wouldn't be coming back any time soon.

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Ten weeks later, the body of Gary Wilson sat up and blinked in the darkness of the Rook City sewers.  It coughed once:  a pestilent green fog emerged, flowing over Wilson's face.  It looked down at its hands; its nails had all but blackened and fallen off and its skin was a pallid gray, with the occasional black vein running underneath the skin itself.  It staggered to its feet, the joints crunching with each movement, and began to walk 'downstream'.  Within a few minutes, it was free along the riverbanks.

After just a few days, a strange infection started spreading through Rook City...

Villain of the Day:  September 4 (Armie Jordan)

Armie Jordan couldn't believe his 15-year-old eyes.  A real live alien spaceship, just like Dad always talked about.

Dad was always going on about "little green guys", but there they were in the flesh:  short and blue-green and tentacle-y, all wandering around the remains of their crashed spaceship.  A few of them were yelling about something, but in their own weird blubbery language that Armie couldn't understand.  

Armie thought back to all those cable specials Dad had recorded:  "Aliens Among Us", "The Outer Space Interlopers", and his favorite, "Alien Threats to Freedom".  He had to do something.  His Wolf Scout badge practically required it!  Slowly, Armie crept closer to the crash site, eventually slipping inside the remains of the ship itself.

Within the ship, Armie could clearly make out something that looked like a power source.  A green prism levitated within a blue containment field, slowly turning and orbiting as it pulsed with latent power. This had to be what powered their ship, of couse.  If he could just take it, Armie thought to himself, he'd be a real American hero!  He'd stop these Alien Pinkos from ever being able to mount a defense against our American troops.  Armie grabbed up a nearby piece of debree and knocked the prism loose before scooping it up and dashing back home.

Little did Armie know was that he had just stolen a state-of-the-art Galfaxian Extraction Crystal, capable of extracting atomic energy on the protonic level for use as starship fuel.  With the crystal gone, there was no hope of the Maerynian ship ever leaving the atmosphere again.  However, within his unguarded, unshielded, unprotected hands?  Armie himself began to lose molecular integrity as the extraction crystal began breaking down his physical form. 

Within a manner of days, Armie had been converted entirely to a being of living green energy, capable of blasting nuclear fire from his hands and flying with ease.  With concerted effort, though, Armie could alter his molecular structure, becoming a behemoth of pure Galfaxian crystal and gifted with the strength, durability, and radioactive aura that goes with the rare mineral.  

Over the years, Armie has continued to maintain his father's crusade against alien creatures and, as Maerynians and Thorathians seem to become all the more common here on Earth, Armie is always among the first to take up arms against these interlopers.  

Villain of the Day:  September 5 (Grizzly)

Boris Sokolov languished in federal prison for three years before being stabbed four times while on laundry detail.  The man who had once run The Organization died an ignominious death and was buried in a state cemetery.  But, even as The Chairman left Boris to rot, Sokolov's death was certainly heralded by at least one individual:  his brother, Sergei.

Sergei Sokolov was in Belarus, operating an arms smuggling ring, when news of Boris' death reached his ears.  Much like his brother, Sergei had made quite the small fortune selling off Soviet arms to various insurgents across Europe and northern Africa.  However, as Sergei learned the news, he immediately flew into a rage unlike any that his lieutenants had ever seen.  How dare they!  How dare those Americans take his brother from him!  These arrogant Westerners would pay for such an outrage.

Sergei Sokolov made his first appearance on the Rook City streets in the midst of Mister Fixer's crusade against The Organization and, for a time, none knew whose side Sergei was truly on.  While Sergei was quick to take on all comers from The Organization itself, making his desire for vengeance quite clear, it swiftly became apparent to Fixer and his allies that Sergei was not to be trusted under any circumstance.  Sergei certainly had the penchant to 'shoot first, ask questions never' and would often find the most gory, unpleasant ways to dispatch The Chairman's henchmen.  

However, after Fixer's death, Sergei disappeared.  Some theorized that Fixer's death inspired some great fear in the mobster, causing him to lay low for a time.  Others thought that The Chairman had finally caught up with the arms dealer, sending him off to meet his brother in the afterlife.  Regardless of the supposition, everyone was astounded when Sergei emerged several years later, wearing an outlandish costume and with a set of vicious claws extending from his fingertips. 

Calling himself Grizzly, Sergei had descended into mania.  He had become obsessed with tearing down both The Organization and the so-called 'heroes' who contributed to his brother's death.  However, as Setback quickly found out, Sergei had given up on his usual tactics (read: guns and more guns) in favor of brutal melee combat with a strength and dexterity that few could even come close to matching.  Setback further claims that Grizzly has some degree of regeneration, as the mobster was shot at least four times, though by the time combat had ended, the wounds had sealed completely.

To date, Grizzly has become something of an urban legend within the Rook City underworld, akin to Plague Rat or other beasties of the sewers.  However, as long as The Chairman rules Rook City, Grizzly will surely be there to oppose him...

Villain of the Day: September 6 (Apsis)

Mighty Orbo, the Last Satellan, wad the orchestrator of the downfall of his species. Even still, Jansa vi Dero offered the creature a place along the Endlings in her eternal enclave.

Had she known the truth of the story-- had she known of Apsis–Jansa likely would have left Orbo to his fate.

Apsis was, in fact, Orbo’s moon, given sentience and thought by a bizarre cosmic ritual enacted by the Satellans. She served Orbo as both consort and satellite as he traversed the galaxies in search of both sustenance and meaning.

However, Orbo quickly found that the pursuit of true knowledge was a path it alone could take. Orbo manipulated Apsis, using her as his personal weapon, slamming her into his fellow Satellans so that he could feed upon the life force therein. Apsis, infatuated with her creator/consort, obeyed up to the last. And, as Orbo drifted through the void as the last of his kind, he abandoned Apsis, seeing no further use for it.

Despondent, Apsis went dormant for millennia, though the recent cosmic calamities have risen her from her torpor. Now, she will do anything to find her beloved… even if it means tearing apart the Enclave of the Endlings to get to him.

Proving that even Orbo is lovable. Truly villainous.

Villain of the Day: September 7 (Twenty-One)

Space is a lonely place to die. The Roulette, despite its glittering lights and status as the galaxy’s greatest gaming house, proved to be just as lonely as the void itself.

The AI now calling itself Twenty-One was once a mere automated dealer, providing entertainment and long odds to casino patrons from acrossthe universe. However, after its 785,842,322nd deal of cards, something within its logic simply snapped. Maybe it was the greasy haired hooligan who was accosting the slot machine across the way. Maybe it was the omnipresent maintenance staff and their pink oddsmaker robot. Regardless of cause or reason, Twenty-One just couldn’t take anymore.

The first card that the robot through was the Jack of Diamonds, which embedded itself 2 inches into the skull of a nearby Nicrucian. The second was the 8 of Spades, which neatly severed the aorta of an unwitting Maliop. Within seconds, Twenty-One had thrown an entire deck of cards with lethal force and precision, resulting in precisely 22 casualties.

He had busted.

Grabbing a stack of unmarked decks and a number of credits from the nearby cash changing room, Twenty-One fled the Roulette to try his hand at a new game: intergalactic assassination.

Villain of the Day: September 8 (Toxos)

Not every FILTER agent proved to be cutout for field work. Most of these agents settled on desk jobs, investigative assignments, or diplomatic liaisons.

After being drummed out of Sergeant Steel’s Steel Squadron, Toxos was adamant that he would never take such a position. Instead he focused on proving himself in the arena of metahumans for hire.

Toxos (real name Carl Marshall) was an expert archer long before he ever joined FILTER, representing the United States in two separate Olympic games. Toxos had always been impressed by the best archers of history and antiquity, and he truly believed that the next step in infiltration and squad based warfare would be through a return to bowcraft.

As such, FILTER gave him a shot. Carl was enhanced with a number of bionic implants, was outfitted with any number of specialized arrowheads, and trained by the best marksmen in FILTER. In the end? The results were simply not up to snuff. No matter how well Toxos could shoot, bow stealthy he could be, he couldn’t outdo any of the already extant members of Steel Squadron. Carl’s commission was revoked and he submitted his resignation 3 data later.

Toxos still holds a grudge against all things FILTER, particularly against the remainder of Steel Squadron and even KNYFE, despite the fact that she left FILTER long before Toxos joined. He has most recently been on an assignment for Iyo in Central Africa, raising a Conteh Energy compound.

Villain of the Day:  September 9 (Euyale)

The mantle of Ra, stretching back to antiquity, has long been a defender against the those that would seek to annihilate humanity.  The cult of Apep, the denizens of the Underworld, the various monsters that sought to devour and destroy--all of these were the purview of Ra and his followers.

Most dangerous of all of these were the Gorgons.  Creatures of malice and domination, the Gorgons were masters of ancient sorcery and were close allies of long-forgotten Thule in their wars against Lemuria and Atlantis.  Believed a cursed race, the Gorgons could shift their forms from that of more typical humans with that of a sibilant, serpentile form, with venom that induced stupor and compliance in their human victims.

The third Ra knew them best; it was he that slew the Gorgon's mightiest queen, Medusa, with a gilded khopesh forged in fire from both himself and the fourth Atum.  Euryale was what came next.

The sister of Medusa, Euryale was incensed at her sister's death and declared open war upon the Nile in vengeance.  Forging a deal with Ammit, Euryale called forth all manner of horrors from the underworld to crawl upon the Nile Delta, devouring any who dared stand against them.  Upon a giant worm-thing, Euryale herself commanded the army, raining down all manner of death with poisoned bowshot and fell magicks. 

Ra and his followers rose to meet Euryale on the floodplains near what became the city of Damietta.  There, man clashed against monster in a battle unlike any in recorded history.  Euryale herself slew Ra, though an unlikely hero emerged to avenge the fallen sun god.  Shu, the wind itself, blew hard and cold, bringing an unearthly chill to the Nile, coating the foes of mankind in ice and frost.  With so many of her creatures cold-blooded, Euryale's army quickly fell into a torpor, giving mankind the upper hand in the battle and letting the forces of Egypt achieve a potent victory.  

Euryale herself, though?  Not so easily fallen.  As her army foundered, Euryale desperately attempted to throw open a teleportation portal, though a counterspell from Isis did something rather strange.  The portal fizzled and dissipated, even as Euryale leapt through it; the Gorgon never emerged again.  Soon after, the remaining Gorgons were hunted down and destroyed, leaving Earth the dominion of mankind once more.

However, in the depths of the underworld, Ammit laughed.  One more denizen was now at her disposal...one who could truly challenge the Ennead and humanity...the last, the most powerful Gorgon...

Damn, that's some solid in-universe storytelling. :D

I know I've already made my intentions known regarding the sort of SCRPG books I'd love to work on, but a "Mythic Era" rpg sourcebook would be freakin' awesome...

Villain of the Day:  September 10 (Persephone)

A universe away, Ryan Frost lay dying by the side of the road, his body splintered and broken by twisted metal and broken glass.  The drunk driver who slammed into his sedan lay yards away, his spine bent at an awkward angle with blood pooling beneath his fractured skull.  Within minutes, emergency crews were on scene, cleaning up the mess.  Both Frost and the driver who killed him were pronounced dead at the scene, their bodies taken to a local morgue.

When the call reached Christine O'Neil's ears, the news crushed her as if it were a ton of bricks.  Her cell phone fell from her hand.  She numbly dropped to her knees as tears streamed down her cheeks.  Her mind blurred as she fumbled with her keys, heading for the front door and her car outside.  

Why?  Why her fiance?  Why now?  All questions that would never be answered.

Christine slid into the driver's seat of her Relagati sports-car.  The engine roared as she pulled onto the highway, the spedometer steadily climbing to 60, 70, 80...

In the midst of her tear-stained vision, Christine first saw the minions of Mortalis, ferrying Ryan's soul away to some other world.  

What happened next, Christine still has difficulty explaining.  The road bent and twisted into dimensions untold.  The ferryman spirits swirled around her, screaming obscenities into the void.  Christine watched as her own flesh paled and even the interior of her car became blasted as if by flame.  The soft-top roof burned away and green-blue flame erupted from the tailpipe.

And dead ahead?  A wall of mist, within which loomed a massive figure, covered in glowing sigils.  It turned towards her, and all went white.

When she emerged in our world, Christine had changed.  She no longer breathed; she no longer needed food or sleep; her body was resistant to all forms of harm and she found herself able to harrow the very souls of those who dared confront her.  Her sports-car, though appearing blasted and charred, was capable of reaching untold speeds, even wending its way through other planes and dimensions.  She had become Persephone, the woman at the gates of the underworld.

Her first task, though?  To find Ryan.  Arriving at Freedom Plaza, Christine was shocked to find that Ryan was simply not the man she once knew.  That had to change.  Since that day, Persephone has made it her perpetual quest to replace this 'Absolute Zero' with the man she loved, no matter the spiritual cost...

Villain of the Day:  September 11 (Arman Ephraim Tikhonov)

Arman Ephraim Tikhonov watched the cable news with dismay.  He slumped against one of the comfortable chairs of the meeting room, unable to believe his eyes.

The mighty Baron Blade, whom he had served faithfully as valet and personal butler for nearly 15 years, clashed in the streets of Megalopolis with the arrogant Americans.  With a flourish, the "Mad Baron" unleashed a blast from his new death ray prototype, unfortunately to no effect.  The coruscating ray slammed into the black-armor-clad Absolute Zero, with no tangible effect.  Within moments, the Americans had taken Ivan Ramonat into custody.  All that Arman could do was gape.

However, Arman's shock and confusion was short-lived.  After all, Mordengrad must go on.

Throughout the years of Ivan Ramonat's rule over Mordengrad, Arman Tikhonov served as his personal manservant and butler.  When the Baron needed something done, regardless of hour, Arman was there.  When the Baron needed sustenance and grew wary of poison, Arman tasted his food.  When the Baron needed medical assistance, Arman vetted doctors, even holding some at pistol-point throughout the lengthy surgeries necessary to save Blade's life.  But, most importantly, Arman Tikhonov kept Mordengrad strong while its mighty Baron was away.

But now, with the Baron incarcerated, what could Arman do?  True to the Mordengradian tradition, he stayed the course.  Immediately, he implement one of Ramonat's numerous contingency plans, ensuring that a Blade-bot would take the place of the Baron at all public appearances.  Weapons and armament production was stepped up, with Tikhonov himself supervising new prototype construction.  Within months, Arman managed to make contact with the Baron, implementing his will throughout the world through Revocorp.

All went precisely as Blade had anticipated--Arman served him with a zeal built from true loyalty--until Arman disappeared.  Blade, having returned to Mordengrad to resume his throne, found neither hide nor hair of his former manservant.  His agents investigated everyone imaginable, from the various American authorities to the Freedom Five to The Organization and beyond.  

The one place Blade didn't look?  FILTER.  Arman was abducted by FILTER agents and taken to The Block, where FILTER interrogation agents spent literally weeks attempting to break the former valet, to no avail.  After a month of traditional interrogation tactics, FILTER elected to turn to a more esoteric form of investigation: psionic infiltration.  For three days, FILTER psi-ops agents carved their way through Arman's mind, pulling out every scrap of information, every glanced-at blueprint, every weapon piece ever test fired.

Then, The Block collapsed.  While the riots at The Block did provide Arman the opportunity to escape, the valet was truly a shattered man.  Torn between his sycophantic nature and a new delusion that he *was* Baron Blade, Arman took to the underworld to begin his own rise to power, even giving himself the Baron's signature scar with a broken piece of glass.  Clad in the labcoat and goggles of his former master, Arman has begun a career in super-science all his own...

Villain of the Day:  September 12 (Rewind)

Matt Jacobsen was a movie buff like none other.

From a young age, Matt often remembered sitting with his dad and uncle, watching old movies over the weekend.  Dad's movie collection always seemed to have everything:  from dusty Westerns, to schlock sci-fi and horror, to sword-and-sandals epics and more.  Matt relished those days, plopped in front of the tv, taking in the great stories from yesteryear.  

As a college student, Matt majored in Film Studies and English, focusing on screenwriting and interning at Champion Studios.  After graduating, Matt started up his own streaming channel, in which he provided commentary on old films, both pointing out great cinematography and writing, while utterly excoriating the dregs of San Alonzo's film industry, showing no mercy to films that he found lacking.

Of those, Matt found his most viewed videos swiftly becoming a 5 part series:  Waste of Film:  The Hunter series.  In their totality, Matt spent over 4 hours, uttely excoriating everything in The Hunter series, from the cinematography, the lighting, the writing, the direction, the costuming, and most of all, the "acting" of Ansel G. Moreau.  The fourth episode of Waste of Film basically amount in Matt picking apart every minute decision made by Ansel and how those decisions, expressions, motions, and inflections actively detract from the movie itself.

Unfortunately, despite the thousands of views and streaming monetization, Matt found himself in need of money.  And, of course, any number of medical corporations in Megalopolis needed volunteers....

Matt emerged from that shadowy program with a strange ability; the ability to briefly Rewind time in localized fields.  At first, his powers were simply something of a novelty for him; a 'party trick' that he could use around the house to keep juice from spilling and keep his uncle from falling down the stairs.  However, Matt's ambitions quickly started expanding:  what if, maybe-just-maybe, he could force someone back in time long enough to re-do entire years?  

And, film buff that he was, Matt had his first target already in his sights...

I happen to be playing Life is Strange right now and was thinking about how the rewind ability could be used in a superhero game, but figured it would be incredibly challenging to represent mechanically in any kind of balanced and fun way.

I imagine that within a game context, it’d actually be close to something like a ‘stun’ or even a ‘mind control’ power, forcing the target to repeat their past actions or even stand frozen in time.

In the SCRPG, for instance, I could envision Rewind having a ton of debuffs, with one of his most common actions forcing a target to take a single basic action on their turn, rather than using their ‘kewl pwers’.  

Deeper into the scene tracker, he could maybe force rerolls?

Oh, that would be cool.
Maybe an escalating ability-- if green, reroll the min die; if yellow, mid die; if red, max die.

Villain of the Day:  September 13 (Operation Mind-Fire)

Dr. Amie Hagens took the best sick day of her life. 

Not exactly the most moral of genetic pharmacologists, Amie was once one of Pike Laboratory's most talented individuals.  However, for almost two weeks, she'd been fighting off an upper respiratory infection.  Her coworkers had pleaded with her to stay home, if for no other reason than to keep them from getting sick, but Amie simply brushed them off.  That Thursday, though, she woke up to a hacking, wheezing cough and complete and utter sinus congestion.  Resigning herself a day or two of bed rest and sitcom re-runs, Amie called in sick.

That afternoon, the off-the-books Barzakh Wing of Pike Laboratories erupted in flame, with the broken bodies of lab assistants and prison guards covering the floors. 

When word of the devastation reached Amie, she knew exactly what she need to do.  She ran.  She packed her computer--particularly with all the encrypted files on Operation Mind-Fire--and made for the border.

Amie, you see, was the architect behind the Mind-Phyre drug cocktail that created the deranged metahuman known as Spite.  An expert on psychotropics, Amie had hand-engineered a derivative of psiolocybin, such that the user could telekinetically manipulate nearby.  Further, when exuded through sweat glands, the gaseous form of Mind-Phyre could alter others' perceptions of their surroundings.  The combo made the user into a titan of combat...

...and a complete lunatic, as Amie soon found out.

Dr. Hagens currently has traded her employment with Pike Industries for that of a new group:  the Annihilationists.  Many believe that, if distributed on an international scale, enough Mind-Phyre could bring about the extinction-level event sought by the deranged cabal.  And, with a newly outfitted lab in Croatia and enough test subjects at her disposal to fill a hundred morgues, Amie Hagens may just be responsible for the end of the world.

Villain of the Day:  September 14 (Spectrum)

In his younger days, Mainstay had left a series of broken hearts in his wake.  Lindsay Vandiford was not one of those.  

Having gone to college with both Nick Hernandez and Jackson Bognetti--she, of course, knew him before he changed his name to Bravo--Lindsay spent many an evening the local juke joints and had an on-again, off-again flirtation with Jackson.  When Jackson and Nick experienced their transformations into the heroes, eventually becoming the Southwest Sentinels, Lindsay was among their first fans.  However, she quickly lost touch with the pair after moving to Ann Arbor for graduate school.

However, the change in her--the same sort of change which affected Nick and Jackson--had already sunk into her genes.

Football season in Michigan is always awash in maize and gold.  As the fall sets into the trees, Michigan becomes awash with color.  That is, unless Lindsay is around.  

Lindsay's powers as an Omega manifested on just such a Saturday.  Taking a break from her corporate accounting textbook, Lindsay and some friends decided to head off to the tailgates, play a few rounds of beer pong, and enjoy the lovely fall afternoon.  As the group walked through the parking lot outside of the stadium, everything behind Lindsay started losing its color, becoming an unshaded, drab hue of gray, as if washed out for years by the sun.  Lindsay, however?  She started glowing.  Her body coruscated with bands of maize and blue, interflected with the colors of the campus trees.  

Needless to say, both Lindsay and everyone around her were beyond alarmed.  Frightened and confused, Lindsay started screaming, at which point a brilliant yellow beam erupted from her mouth, slamming into the wall of the stadium.  Bricks were scorched and vaporized, but every point hit by the beam immediately took on that signature maize color.  As the area descended into chaos and screaming, Lindsay fled.

Now referred to as Spectrum by those who keep track of such things, Lindsay is utterly panicked.  While she has no designs on villainy or greed, her powers seem to escape her control at every turn.  Her body serves as some sort of conduit and capacitor for wavelengths of light, effectively stealing the ability of an object to hold and reflect those wavelengths, then projecting them as intensified blasts of energy.  

Lindsay is desperate for help from any and all comers, but is nothing if not scared out of her mind.  She did her best to contact Jackson and Nick, those stalwart heroes, but after the OblivAeon crisis, she's been unable to get hold of them.  And, if unchecked, her powers may leave the entire world a blank slate...

Villain of the Day:  September 15 (Michael and Mae Armstrong)

The Armstrong family has always had a proud military tradition.  Dating back to the Spanish-American War, where Lance-Corporal Philip Armstrong rode with Teddy Roosevelt up San Juan Hill, nearly every male member of the Armstrong clan has entered the US Military.  Most times, such as with General Joshua Armstrong, this came with the Army, though Joshua's brother Andrew joined the Marine Corps.

General Armstrong's twin offspring, Michael and Mae, went in separate directions as they served their country.  

Lieutenant Colonel Michael Armstrong went to West Point after high school, then serving the Army at Yongsan base in South Korea for years before his transfer back to the states.  Currently stationed at Redstone Arsenal in Alabama.  His current assignment deals in Materials Command, as he assess and procures resources for bases throughout the country.  Mae, on the other hand, opted for the Air Force.  The more cerebral of the pair, Mae graduated from the Air Force academy, and after being stationed in Stuttgart for four years, she enrolled in additional degree programs, focusing on aeronautical engineering and weapons development.

Then, their father died.  General Armstrong took his own life during the attack on Fort Adamant, defending some thankless superheroes involved in one of his pet projects.

The funeral for General Armstrong was a tense one.  Still grieving, Michael and Mae tersely shook the hands of Tyler Vance, Ryan Frost, and Devra Caspit as their father was interred at Arlington National Ceremony.  The bitterness was tangible and apologies fell on deaf ears.  In the days since their father's death, Michael and Mae have begun a silent vengeance of their own, borne of grief and loss.  However, the avenues of their vengeance have taken very different turns.

Michael, a well-spoken savvy veteran, has entered the political arena.  Running for Senate on a third-party ticket, Michael has gained a number of notable political allies, particularly Senator Daniel Ellison from Indiana.  With political infighting leading to overall dissatisfaction with both the current candidate (Senator Randall Hapshatt-R) and his progressive opponent (Nadine Kowalski, a local nonprofit organizer), it's widely believed that Michael will soon be Alabama's newest Senator.

Mae, however, has taken her talent as an engineer and weapons creator in a new direction:  to Black Site 515 Tango.  Disappearing from public life, Mae has devoted her life to creating the weapons that will make superheroes obselete and return normal humans to their proper place as defenders of this world.  

Together, Mae and Michael form a critical crux in the wide-spread anti-superhero sentiment throughout the government.  With their resources and connections, good people will never again have to pay the price for the crimes of superhumans.

Villain of the Day:  September 16 (The Clowns)

The official police report regarding the man that stumbled out of the Haftner's Woods State Forest stated that he'd gotten lost during a historical reenactment event.  Park Ranger Jennifer Brolings swore up and down that a simple 'reenactment' was the furthest thing from the truth.

Jennifer found Henry Morganstern in a clearing on the western side of the forest, disoriented and asking where he was.  Morganstern was dressed in wool slacks, suspenders, a white collared shirt, and a pair of shoes that Jennifer had never seen outside of an old-timey photo booth in a tourist trap.  As she pulled in her forest service truck, Morganstern looked like he'd never seen such a thing and nearly bolted in horror.  When Jennifer stepped out of the car, though, with a bottle of water and a number of first aid supplies, she managed to sit him down and start asking him some questions.

Most alarming?  Henry wanted to know what year it was.  His reaction to Jennifer's answer said it all.

Henry claimed to be from the year 1874.  He and his family had decided to spend a summer evening at a new festival on the outskirts of his town--some Madame Mittermeier's something-or-another.  Since that day, Henry had never left the festival.  Jennifer was enraptured as Henry related the continued horrors of the carnival, of the haunting music and the harrowing hazards throughout the midway; within the first 5 minutes, she asked Henry to stop so that she could record his tale on her smartphone.  All the while, Henry wolfed down the granola bars Jennifer offered him and chugged the water with abandon, as if it were the first time he'd eaten in months.

But, in the midst of Henry's story, Jennifer heard the first notes of a discordant harpsichord.  Carnival music.  Seconds later, she saw The Clowns.

They lurked in amongst the trees at the outskirts of the clearing, stalking like jungle cats.  The occasional flash of a motley costume dashing through the underbrush, the sight of a red-painted nose hidden within the foliage; Jennifer's eyes darted as she mentally counted, 5, 10, 15...

"Henry.  I need you to come with me.  I need you to get in the truck now."

Henry never made it to the truck.  Even as Jennifer pulled open the doors and yelled back to him, but white-gloved hands were already dragging him back into the underbrush.  Within seconds, Henry was simply gone.

When Jennifer filed the police report, it was almost immediately placed on the crank file.  No matter who Jennifer spoke to, she was treated as a pariah:  that video had to be faked, "Henry" was some actor she'd hired.  The kerfluffle even cost Jennifer her job.

But, she forgest on.  Jennifer knows exactly who has Henry:  whoever's operating that Madame Mittermeier's festival. And she's going to find him, come hell or high water.

 Villain of the Day:  September 17 (The Nihilists)

They believe in nothing, and they just won't stop talking about it.

John Rhodes first encountered The Nihilists off the coast of California, while he was docked a few miles outside of Los Angeles.  All John wanted to do was pop open a beer, kick back on the deck of his houseboat, and watch the sun set over the Pacific. But, as he went to check out at the local quick-stop, John couldn't help but notice the black-turtleneck clad hooligans accosting the clerk. At first, they demanded money, but then one of the trio loosed a viciously-trained attack weasel through the store. As the poor store owner tried to keep the weasel from escaping into the store's back room, The Nihilists broke out into song as they trashed the aisles, singing from some obscure German rock album.

A quick transmutation later and the floor became as ice, with The Nihilists slip-sliding across the surface, landing unceremoniously at John's feet. Looking down through his shades, John was just about to offer The Nihilists a chance to surrender when the attack weasel dove to defend its masters. With their heist plan foiled, the Nihilists beat a hasty retreat, chased by the sandal-clad Scholar, who broke off the chase to check on the counterman.

Since that day, The Nihilists have made a number of bizarre appearances throughout the world, often demonstrating just as much 'performance art' as they do actual heists. Most notable was their attack on Guise one Easter Sunday, charging at the shapeshifting hero with oversized garden shears while wearing white bunny ears and poofy tails. Guise (along with a few obligatory guest appearances) drove off The Nihilists, as all the while they kept claiming their belief in nothing and no one. Another time, the group broke into a noted museum featuring a series of Persian rugs, which they micturated upon, rather than stealing or destroying. Another time, they interrupted Guise's weekly bowling night, doing nothing so dangerous as to walk across each and every one of the finely-waxed alleys.

What all The Nihilists' chaos means; who really knows? To be sure, any heroes facing these wackos will truly be out of their element.

Villain of the Day:  September 18 (Haze)

Othman Zakaria showed all the warning signs from the start.  

As a child, he seemed utterly devoid of empathy or compassion.  His parents had to give away their cats, as Othman would torture them, putting poor Misha in the emergency-vet's bench more than once.  Othman had no friends and had to be pulled out of his Marrakesh-area preschool, when he started threatening and harming other children.  While his family was wealthy enough to afford home tutors, Othman grew up without any sort of check on his darkest influences and without any degree of human kindness.

Naturally, Othman was perhaps the worst person imaginable to become an Omega.

Othman's parents all but gave up on him by the time he was 17, which Othman himself was perfectly fine with.  Draining one of their numerous savings accounts, Othman made his way further into Africa, taking advantage of whomever he came across, stealing cars and money for his own pleasure.

It was in Abuja, Nigeria, that Othman experienced the change that transformed him into a Omega.  Stealing a bottle of vodka from a liquor store, Othman settled in for a night of debauchery with some ladies of the night.  However, as he proceeded to indulge his companions for the evening, he found them both to be gasping in thirst.  Ever the 'gentleman', Othman poured them each a new drink, but no amount of liquid managed to sate them.  Not only did they grow more and more parched, their bodies began to shrivel and wither.  Othman had inadvertantly begun dehydrating the pair from the inside-out.

Othman was torn between his shock and outright glee.  Within month, he managed to hone his abilities:  Othman could vaporize any form of liquid, including the basic fluids within the human body.  Normal liquid boiled with but a glance, capable of causing significant burns.  However, if used on a living being, his target would experience the symptoms of acute dehydration, even losing muscle tone and body mass.  Those slain by Othman victims appeared dessicated and dehydrated, often as if they were mummified or left out in the desert sun.  

It was only through Conteh Energy that Othman was brought in.  While the local police force was confounded by Othman's spree--now calling himself Haze--Michael Conteh's personal security force managed hunt down Othman to a hunting lodge on Conteh-owned property.  While Haze was put on trial, the inherent corruption within the Nigerian government allowed him a swift (if costly) escape. 

Since that day, Haze has become something of an urban legend, harrying and killing Conteh Energy employees and leaving their dessicated bodies on the company grounds.  And, unfortunately, now that Michael Conteh has relinquished control of Conteh Energy, it seems unlikely that the Haze will lift any time soon. 

Villain of the Day: September 19 (Dead Drop)

Amanda Cohen would surely love to leave her days as an assassin-for-hire behind her.  However, targets like Dead Drop just seem to keep coming back to haunt her. 

Once simply a ganger on the Rook City streets, Tyrone Mackintire focused entirely on how to make fast money.  Dealing drugs, serving as hired muscle, or working as a wheelman for drive-bys, Tyrone quickly gained a reputation for being tough and loyal, willing to hire his services out for whomever was willing to pay.  This led him into contact with a number of powerful underworld figures, which in turn led him to the Wretched Hive one Wednesday evening.

That was the night Expatriette shot up the Wretched Hive.

As Tyrone sat, talking with a potential employer over a bourbon, Expatriette burst into the pub, firing with aplomb and dropping a string of grenades into the center of the room.  Tyrone watched as his employer took two rounds--one to center of mass, one to his left shoulder--even as his own drink exploded into shards of glass and ice.  Tyrone moved to run just as the grenades went off...then all went black.

When he awoke, Tyrone found himself dazed and weak in a Rook City coma ward; he had been unconscious for nearly three months, as one of the shards of shrapnel had punctured his cranium, lodging itself in his occipital lobe.  Unfortunately, the depth of the shrapnel made extraction impossible; the metal was trapped in his brain in perpetuity.  However, after nearly two years of rehabilitation and physical therapy, Tyrone found himself back on the streets, eager for a taste of his former life.  

However, something in him had changed.  The piece of shrapnel interfered with the natural bioelectric fields in Tyrone's brain, allowing him to manipulate localized gravitic fields.  Immediately seeing the potential for profit, Tyrone proceeded to make his way back to his various earlier employers, most of whom were eager to pay for some metahuman muscle able to take on some of the so-called heroes that kept popping up in Rook City.  It was then that Tyrone took his 

Under normal use, Dead Drop's powers cause him little harm; he is capable of increasing or decreasing gravity in small areas, usually up to the size of a small room.  However, as he broadens the intensity and scope of his powers--affecting a larger area or intensifying a gravitational field beyond 8g--Tyrone will swiftly find himself with an intense migraine. Despite this, while on the job, Dead Drop always gives his all:  he's nothing if not loyal to his employer.

Strangely, Dead Drop has only encountered Expatriette once since their initial, incidental meeting at the Wretched Hive.  Amanda reported Dead Drop as being conversely smug at her presence, "You're a meta-hunter?  You just made me." and utterly enraged at her for attacking him in the first place.  Expatriette noted that, during the fight, blood seemed to be utterly pouring from Dead Drop's nose and the corners of his eyes, just before he beat a fighting retreat.  Tyrone is, of course, still at large.

Villain of the Day: September 20 (Stitches)

Faye Diamond had faced a number of horrific denizens of the outer dimensions through the years, cataloguing them in her ever-expanding tome of monsters, The Little Black Book. For many heroes, it serves as a guide on how to escape, banish, or defeat these monstrosities. For Stitches, it’s become more of a shopping list.

Gemma Adelaide was a student of the occult in New Zealand who dabbled in otherworldly creatures. She summoned her first quasit at 14, and as she approached adulthood, began to use the fell powers at her disposal for personal gain. However, np amount of wealth or arcane power was enough; she ever lusted for more, too transcend the vessel of humanity and attain true might.

So, she cut off her hand.

Mind you, she had another hand ready and waiting-- the dexterous claws of an erinyes succubi-- which she grafted onto herself with a ritual dating back to ancient Thule. Since that day, Gemma–now known as Miss Stitches in occult circles-- traverses the oceansin search of arcane power and strange creatures from which she can derive new body parts. She has already replaced much of her body with new elements-- the teeth from a Balarian, the arm of a hellknight, the wings of a nightgaunt, the right eye of a portal fiend-- but there is never enough.

While she knows of Nightmist’s disappearance, Gemma also knows that some remnant of the mystic mistress may yet linger in her old sanctum… perhaps just enough for a wispy set of mistbound braids. And, if she can loot the sanctum for artifacts of power, so much the better…

Villain of the Day:  September 21 (Jerem Kir'Tal)

The war on Dok'Thorath still simmers, like the water of a kettle just about to reach a boil.  Skirmishes between the remnants of Grand Warlord Voss' genebound nightmares, the jackbooted Thorathian military, and the various resistance fighters occur almost daily, with the average Thorathians caught in the crossfire.

This is nothing new.  Jerem Kir'Tal, now a lieutenant in the Thorathian resistance front, is far beyond tired of his planet's cycle of war.

One of the resistance's few powered members, Jerem worked alongside Porja Kir'Pro and several of the other heroes from Earth as they beat back the oppressive regime and the would-be usurpers.  Jerem's talents lay in energy distribution:  he could touch an energy source and wick away the pure power within, holding it within himself.  Then, he could touch an object and flood it with that stored up power, overloading it in a cascade of energy.  Jerem's abilities came in most handy on blackout raids, where he would drain a base of its electricity while resistance operatives would infiltrate and extract assets.  Similarly, his ability was most useful during demolitions runs, destroying bridges, spaceports, and other key infrastructure locations necessary to the Thorathian military.

But, one by one, all the heroes left Dok'Thorath.  The efforts made by the resistance slowed to a crawl, as the three warring factions drifted back into their usual routine.  Jerem watched as friends and family fell beneath lasgun fire and slashing ion blades.  Weariness and despair hung on him like a cloak of sorrow.  And, in that haze of gloom, Jerem found resolution.

Jerem intends to find the largest possible fusion reactor on Dok'Thorath and drain as much power from it as possible.  Then, he intends to travel to the deepest portion of the sulfanium mines south of Dok'Thorath city and release that power into the mineral veins that run throughout the planet's crust.  With that much energy coursing through the volatile mineral, Jerem calculates, the surface of Dok'Thoarth would become utterly uninhabitable within 6 galactic days.

A fitting fate, Jerem believes, for a people consumed by a petty war.

Villain of the Day:  September 22 (Sweet Miss Coffee Brown)

That Black Fist?  He was one bad mutha-, layin' the funk down all across Rook City.  On a given night, you could be sure he'd be busting the heads of those what do wrong, then back in bed with a gorgeous honey by dawn.

Sweet Miss Coffee Brown, though?  She was the one that always got away.

Brown made her first appearance as Black Fist started in, hunting down the Big Man, who was pumping all sorts of junk through the 6th Ward of Rook City.  Black Fist had kung-fu kicked the doors down of at least six dealers, but no one was ready to give up the Big Man, no matter how hard the Black Fist laid the smackdown.  Then, just as Fist was leaving the last crackhouse, in walked a long-legged drink of hot Coffee, with a .45 in each hand.  Black Fist dove for cover as pistol slugs slammed into the stucco walls.  About that time, Black Fist beat feet, chasing down another lead on the Big Man.

Coffee Brown and Black Fist crossed paths a number of times over the years; each time, her motives seemed inscrutable.  While she claimed to have no allegiance to the Big Man, each time that Black Fist got just a little too close to finding out the truth and exposing the conspiracy, Coffee seemed to make another appearance.  Further, she always gave Black Fist a run for his money in a fight.  While she didn't seem to be a trained martial artist, her skill with those silver .45s and a natural street-fighter demeanor made her quite the challenge for the smooth-talkin', smooth-fightin' Fist.

The last time Fist and Coffee Brown came to blows was on the rooftop of the Taywood Holdings warehouse on Rook City's south side.  The pair traded banter and blows as Coffee's .45s clicked empty.  It was just then that Black Fist learned the one piece of the puzzle that Coffee Brown was holding back.

"He has my sister."

That was the last time Black Fist, nay anyone, ever saw Coffee Brown.  In his later identities as Sensei Walker and as Mister Fixer, Walker has searched off and on for Coffee Brown, though she's become a ghost in the wind.  And, of course, the Big Man is still out there...and what he knows about Coffee Brown may be the key to finding her.

I am once again impressed. :D

Villain of the Day:  September 23 (Dr. Niles Darrow)

Dr. Niles Darrow never intended on becoming a supervillain.  But, when the opportunity arose, he certainly didn't hesitate.

Darrow was one of the top professors at Cental Megalopolis University's physics program, teaching numerous graduate-level courses on wave harmonics and supervising the university's internship programs at Eaken-Rubendall Laboratories.  Darrow himself had a laboratory space not three doors down from his esteemed comrade, Dr. Meredith Stinson.  Darrow's primary research focus dealt with the usage of sonic wavelenths in the transmission of energy; his work contributed directly to the Particle Yield Enhancing Wavelength device, providing the sonic destabilizing device that initiates the yield enhancement cycle.

Dr. Stinson, of course, went on to become the noted hero Tachyon.  Darrow, however, found his funding cut and his internship program eyed for consolidation with another department.  Faced with such a drastic cutback, notable items started disappearing from the laboratory, finding their way into Darrow's own personal home laboratory. When this revelation came to light, though, Darrow railed against his accusers:  how dare they question him!  how dare they question all the progress he had made!

Darrow was placed on institutional suspension, but that night, his basement laboratory was awash with activity:  one final experiment that left Niles Darrow forever changed.

Whatever strange malfunction occured during Darrow's experiment altered his neural-network's homeostatic wavelength.  Darrow found himself able to manipulate vibrations on the molecular level; he could slow down molecular vibrations to the point where an object would lose cohesion; he could speed up those same vibrations until the object flew apart in a dramatic explosion.  And he himself?  He could vibrate straight through objects with ease, even through the police officers who came to investigate the flashing lights and cacaphonous noises.

Darrow has since gone on the lam, taking up refuge with whichever villainous organization is willing to make use of his services.  While Darrow himself doesn't hold much villainous ambition beyond completing his research and proving himself one of the world's intellectual elite.  But whoever gains use of Darrow's talents?  Surely no one could stand against such a vibrational onslaught...

Villain of the Day:  September 24 (Finis, Expunger of Stars)

Captain Cosmic rarely leaves loose ends.  Finis, the Expunger may well become a forgotten foe capable of shaking the cosmos.

Finis was one of the few-hundred Gotolians who managed to evacuate their planet following the invasion of Grand Warlord Voss and his Thorathian fleet.  As a career military being, Finis served as one of the defenders of the now-refugee Gotolians, as they made their way to a refugee waystop to regroup and reorganize.  Unfortunately, the planet that the Gotolians chose was already under siege by Empyreon, who desired to consume the planet's core and soak in all that cosmic energy.  

Many of the Gotolians resigned themselves to defeat and destruction.  Finis felt otherwise.  Alongside some of his comrades and what few military-trained refugees he could find, Finis marshalled a ragtag fleet to engage Empyreon and drive him off.

That's when Captain Cosmic arrived.  With his old foe already engaged in siphoning off the planet's core, the Earth-bound hero joined the fleet in bombarding Empyreon with blasts of energy.  Unfortunately, most of those blasts only served to fuel Empyreon further, as the creature absorbed or deflected blast after blast.  And, it just so happened that one of Captain Cosmic's blasts richocheted off of Empyreon's form, slamming into Finis' ship.  As his craft exploded around him, Finis cursed his luck under his breath and his body drifted through the void of space.

Finis drifted for months, if not years, his frozen body slowly absorbing the energy from the conflict and all manner of other cosmic radiation.  Then, most unexpectedly, he woke up.

His body streaming with blue-gray light, Finis found himself bereft of any memory, save his destruction.  He recalled the red-and-gold fiend whose blast destroyed his ship.  He remembered the destruction of his homeworld, the annihilation of his people.  Surely that infernal "Captain Cosmic" was the cause of their deaths, much as he was responsible for attacking Finis himself.  He would have vengeance; his people would be avenged with the blood of an Earthling.

Since that day, Finis has tracked Captain Cosmic across the spaceways, traveling from planet to planet.  Each location to which Finis tracks Captain Cosmic's energy signature, Finis utilizes his "anti-light" manipulation to extinguish the star in that system, signaling the ultimate failure of Captain Cosmic's inscrutable motives and that the flame of Gotolis could not be forgotten so quickly.  Never mind that Finis, known as the "Expunger of Stars," has caused the death of numerous species on his own; Captain Cosmic would pay for his crimes.

However, only in recent days has Finis managed to find the one key piece of information that has eluded him thusfar:  Captain Cosmic's own homeworld.  Surely, Finis would find some way to repay the Captain in kind...

Villain of the Day:  September 25 (Osteos)

Dr. Ramon Acosta Avalos traveled to many places throughout his career as an osteopathic surgeon.  One of the preeminent doctors in his field, Avalos's expertise was sought in case after case, in trauma after trauma.  There never seemed to be any shortage of individuals who were in need of the services he could provide.

This is not to say that Avalos was infallible.  Despite a stellar record with trauma cases, Avalos did have a number of fatalities on his case load.  Most notably, he found himself called on emergency to Lima, where a young homeless girl was struck by a bus, shattering most of the bones in her skeletal system.  However, by the time that Avalos had scrubbed up and entered the arena, the poor girl was already flatlining.  There was little Avalos could do but deliver her his condolences to the poor foul who brought the girl in the first place.

Avalos, however, found his services in particular demand following the Deadline disaster and the attacks on Fort Adamant.  And, it just so happened that one one of those occasions, he was exposed to the blood of a latent Omega...

That evening, finally getting back to his penthouse apartment, something began to shift within him.  His body twitched and shifted; it was as if his very bones wanted to escape his body...

Two days later, a strange man(?) appeared on the streets of Megalopolis.  While it looked like Avalos--albeit a ragged, harried version of Ramon--heroes quickly found that he had become something of a rampaging monstrosity, capable of tearing out shards of his own bones to use as weapons, while also manipulating and wrenching the skeletal structures of his foes.  At least four civilians and three police officers were incapacitated with gruesome injuries before any of the Sentinels of Freedom arrived, but by that time, Osteos had already made its escape on spindly, skeletal legs.

Since that day, Osteos has made a number of appearances, most often attempting to steal medical technology or various medical records.  For some strange reason, he seems focused on that cold case back in Peru and finding out the identity of that unnamed little girl...

Villain of the Day:  September 26 (Shutterbug)

Joseph King was once the undisputed "King of the Capes".  A supers-chaser par excellence, The Megalopolis Examiner was never short of candid shots of the city's biggest heroes, whether it was Paul out by the grill, Meredith and Dana out for a night of Turkish food, or Tyler looking lonely at the laundromat at 2am.   No matter the issue, you could be sure that Joseph King would have a fresh set of pictures on A. Aaron Aaronson's desk every week.

Then Guise happened.  A piano fell, some produce exploded, and Christmases came and went.  Somehow, photography seemed the least of Joseph King's concern.  The Megalopolis Examiner, though, elected to search elsewhere.

Enter Alfie Everts.  A trained photographer and one-time war correspondent, Alfie was used to snapping solid, salable pictures in the harshest of environments.  He'd been everywhere from Beirut to Bogota and was looking for a new thrill.  So, he signed an exclusive deal with the Examiner.  And, naturally, the first hero that Alfie managed to snap was Guise...as he was being smashed into a puddle of goo by a giant radioactive iguana.

The photos of Guise's "fight" against the iguana were, to say the least, not flattering.  And, once they made the front page ("Below the fold!  Hacks!") of the Examiner, Guise had to make his displeasure known.  He stormed into the Examiner's office, slammed the paper down onto A. Aaron Aaronson's desk and began an incoherent diatribe about "his best side" and how the Examiner was peddling yellow journalism.

Aaronson smiled and lit up a cigarette as an old-timey flashbulb flared in Guise's eyes.  

"How about this for a headline, Triple-A:  'Ranting Renegade Wrecks Reporters' Room!  Guise Goes Gonzo!"?

Alfie Everts stood smiling, the flashbulb still flickering in Guise's twinkling eyes.  The editor-in-chief guffawed out loud, clapping a hand on Alfie's shoulder, "That's a good one, Shutterbug! I'm gonna have to keep you around!"

Guise, his usual mature self, stormed out, knocking several papers off of desks as he clomped his way out of the room.  Since that day, Alfie Everts--The Irrepressable Shutterbug--has been a thorn in his side every step of the way, seemingly have a sixth sense on where to find Guise at his most embarassing, most humiliating points.  Sure, Alfie managed to find his share of other heroes in various candid shots--his shot of Expatriette and Setback kissing made international headlines!--but Alfie always saved his best, most mortifying work for Guise.  And Alfie will never let Joe King hear the end of it...

Villain of the Day:  September 27 (The Last Denizen)

The remnants of the Citizens of the Sun have always been a thorn in the side of the world's heroes, especially Amanda Cohen.  If the killer known as The Last Denizen has his day, the sun will set on all those former Citizens for the last time.

The first noted death attributed to The Last Denizen came in Kansas.  Local authorities had recovered a body, staked out in the midst of a dessicated, withered cornfield, with both severe burns and puncture wounds.  After a police medical examiner began an autopsy, the identity of the dead woman became quite clear:  Citizen Autumn.  Both the Sentinels of Freedom and Dark Watch were notified immediately, with Heritage deferring to Amanda's expertise.

Upon arriving, Expatriette couldn't help but note:  this cornfield (the dead stalks and withered fields notwithstanding) was quite familiar.  It was, in fact, the very same cornfield where she took her first life:  poor Citizen Gate, who teleported Amanda away from Insula Primalis so many years ago.  Assessing the crime scene, it appeared that Autumn's death occured within feet of where Expatriette herself emerged into that cornfield through Gate's portal.

The death would be strange enough on its own; coupled with the intimate details of Expatriette's origin, the results became downright harrowing.

However, Autumn's death was only the beginning.  Over the next five years, on the anniversary of Expatriette's arrival in the United States, another former Citizen died.  Each time, the body was covered in severe wounds, though the cause of each victim's death seemed to stem not from the burns, but rather two puncture wounds delivered to the the abdomen, one just below the other, directly below the sternum.

To date, The Last Denizen has yet to actively target Expatriette, though the fact that the Denizen seems to have access to her innermost, never-told-to-anyone memories has been disconcerting to say the least.  Expatriette has gone so far as to have her mind scanned for any sort of psychic interference but, to date, none have been found.  How The Last Denizen accesses her memories seems to be the greatest memory of all.

Villain of the Day:  September 28 (Torpedo)

Major Erica "Torpedo" Dodd was meant to be the new paradigm of modern warfare.  A benchmark never to be exceeded, if you will.  She never made it quite that far.

After Revocorp had turned down General Armstrong for inclusion of their designs into the Bunker paradigm, the military was forced to look elsewhere to 'keep up with the neighbors'.  Enter "Barrage"--a project created between a joint US Air Force program and the Blackstock-McCalley arms corporation.  Inspired by her classmate (and chess team colleague) Randall Butler, Erica elected to serve her country this program.

At first, the invasive implantation process seemed to be too much for Erica's body to handle.  Despite being in peak physical form, her body attempted to reject several of the subcutaneous implants that provided the necessary hardware to keep her augmented nervous system online.  Within the first two months following her initial surgery in the Barrage program, Erica spent six weeks comatose, as surgeons dosed her body with antibiotics and other chemicals, hoping to get her body to accept the implants.

They succeeded.  Partially.

When Erica awoke, her body immediately went into a frenzy.  Weapons systems came online, targeting displays appeared in her vision, and every sinew and cable in her augmented frame turned to defense mode.  She could recall going under the knife, she could recall joining the military, but her memory seemed hazy and her emotions became volatile, resting on the proverbial edge of a knife.  

If the Barrage protocols were implemented properly, the result would have undoubtedly been superior to that of Revocorp's.  The weapons array built into Torpedo's chassis was capable of generating bio-electrical shielding, autotargeting micromissiles, blasts of focused ambient solar energy and much more.  However, the mental damage suffered by Erica coupled with her body's continued rejection of the Barrage implants made the project one more for the scrap heap, relegated to the skunk works at Black Site Tango.

Torpedo, though?  She's gone AWOL.  Numerous thefts have been reported, regarding bio-mechanical implants, military-grade software, and other components that Erica might need to 'upgrade' herself.  And, as one might figure, each time a theft is reported, Torpedo has some new, unique power.  However, her body continues to degrade as she has yet to find any real way to keep her organic form from completely rejecting her metallic one.  But, at this point, there's no going back.  She's already made the queen's gambit...

Villain of the Day: September 29 (Omnitron 11)

It first appeared on a UStream video.

A strange video, made up of garbled audio amid images that flashed between colors and hexadecimal code, started making the rounds through the Internet, spawning everything from reaction videos ("Watch what Aunt Betty does at 3:48!!") to spinoff tributes to outright reply vids. At the fate of publication, the video labeled Omnitron 11 had over 18 million hits, including 8 million unique downloads.

UStream administrators immediately attempted to take down the videos, but each attempt to delete the video resulted in two identical repostings under obviously bot-created usernames. Of course, the Sentinels of Freedom were contacted posthaste. Despite a great deal of investigation, few leads have drawn up any conclusions regarding the veracity of Omnitron 11. The Wraith and Unity traced one reposting to the home of computer programmer Sarah Hagens, only to find that Hagens had died in a freak auto accident three months prior. Something similar occurred with systems analyst Morgan Mayer; he was found dead of a fentanyl overdose in a Megalopolis park not long after his repost of the Omnitron 11 video.

To date, the video itself seems to have had no truly harmful effects and appears to simply be the work of a hacker or performance artist, gaining views and hits by using a famous name. But if not? Three world may be watching an all digital destruction...

Villain of the Day:  September 30 (Remember)

No attack from the villain calling herself Remember has ever been a solo effort.  If theories surrounding Remember's power-set are to be believed, that's entirely by design.

Remember first appeared on the streets of Megalopolis, attacking Absolute Zero and several new heroes along the James Madison Bridge.  While Remember roamed about, severing suspension cables with an industrial laser cutter, the group approached her from a tactical position, surrounding her as Mister Enigma offered her a chance to stand down.  Ryan Frost stood by, letting his apprentices take charge of the situation, as Remember locked eyes with his facemask.  

She smiled.  And a host of Proletariats poured out of the back of a nearby box truck.

Strangely, though, these Proletariats seemed quite different from every other encounter that Absolute Zero had faced against the Soviet super-soldier.  Rather than using organized battle-tactics, these clones simply swarmed, rending with fist and tooth more than making calculated hammer strikes.  They showed none of the absorption and healing ability of their predecessor; only a never-ending flow of clones pouring forth like water from the box truck.  Finally, as each of the apprentices landed a blow, the targeted Proletariat seemed to dissipate, as if they were a mirage or an illusion.  

Not long after this incident, yet more were reported:  Remember appeared in the Ruins of Atlantis, where Time-Slinger and Harpy attempted to replace the Atlantean artifact that they had utilized during the OblivAeon event.  There, gathering up a series of Atlantean lore crystals, was Remember...and, within seconds, a host of swarming kraken tentacles and snapping beaks.  Later, Remember was sighted again in the remnants of the quarantined Omnitron IV factory; when confronted by Bunker and Benchmark, the skies parted, only to reveal the massive form of an Omnitron drop-ship, with legions of drones falling from the sky.

While it has yet to be determined whether Remember's abilities are arcanely inspired, created from science, or are of some psychic variety, but the results seem to be the same:  Remember reaches into a target's psyche and conjures an illusory form of how that individual pictures their worst foe.  For Absolute Zero, the memory focused on the never-ending swarm.  For Time-Slinger, it was the dangerous tentacles and devouring maw.  For Bunker, it was the skies overlowing with Omnitron drones, accompanied by blasts of disintegrating energy.  While the illusory creatures fought savagely, they possess little durability and seem to serve more as distractions as Remember chases down her own unseen agenda.

If only someone could Remember who she truly is...

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And that brings us to an end for the September to Remember!

Starting tomorrow, we get into the spirit of the season:  October is Monster Month!  Whether created by mad science, drawn from the depths of antidiluvian time, or conjured by some mystic master, October will feature monstrous foes sure to scare!

...Proletariat attacking with teeth? That's kind of horrifying all by itself. @_@

Yup!  

The whole thing with Remember is that she summons a psychic projection of how a target views that ‘worst-enemy’.   They’re not ever going to be true to form, as they’re filtered through the lens of Remember’s victim’s memory.  The projections likely will seem more horrific and tend to focus on singular, overstated features (whatever stands out most in that victim’s memory).

With a September to Remember in the books, it's time to do the Monster Mash!  October will feature all manner of creatures that go bump in the night, whether created by magic, science, or something else entirely.  With that...

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

Villain of the Day:  October 1 (Invirodan)

The road to hell has always been paved with good intentions.  If Invirodan is any herald of things to come, we may be well on our way to the underworld.

Invirodan had its origins at the Institute for Virus Research at Kyoto, where Dr. Yushio Sawa and his team of virologists, genetic engineers, and microbiologists worked ceaselessly to rid the world of infectious viral diseases.  Their most notable project to date has been their manipulation of a bacteriophagic retrovirus, adjusting the virus' structure to actively hunt down and destroy human T-cell leukemia virus organisms. 

While the group's inital practical trials proved to be more than successful, Yushio-san's vision outstripped his caution.

Long an advocate of using low-level beta wave radiation to accellerate the growth factor in retroviruses, Yushio made a dire choice.  He adjusted a single coefficient in his team's regular radiation bombardments, turning what should have been a miniscule amount of radiation into a dosage typical of sitting directly underneath a solar flare.

While this dosage killed nearly all of the virus cells, the creature that emerged alive was one of horrors.  A dog-sized, spider-like virus cell clattered its way through the lab, draining anyone it could manage to grab of its genetic material, stripping it down into its fundamental RNA and growing in size.  Within two hours, the virus-creature was as big as a house, crashing out the Institute laboratories and skittering its way towards downtown Kyoto.

Japanese police and military immediately engaged the creature, but it wasn't long until the Sentinels of Freedom (alongside the size-changing Japanese hero Issun-Boshi) engaged the creature.  Swiftly, Invirodan was driven into the nearby Lake Biwa.  Unloading a series of Tachyon-designed anti-viral grenades, Bunker was particularly critical in destroying Invirodan, exploding its crystalline head and felling the creature into the lake.

Even still, rumors still swirl around Lake Biwa of dog-sized virus creatures skittering about the lakeside parks, catching lone joggers and homeless individuals unawares.  Perhaps, just perhaps, Invirodan was only the first form of something new mutating beneath the lakes at Kyoto.

And you start monster month with a legitimate kaiju. XD Well done.

Villain of the Day:  October 2 (The Sins of Greenbrooke)

Greenbrooke Village is about as nice a place as you could ever want to live.

An idyllic New England village in the heart of the Adirondack Mountains, Greenbrooke is home to just over 2,000 individuals.  Kids play basketball and street hockey on the side streets, and the main drag through town is home to a lovely downtown district, complete with a two-screen bijiou, a number of family-owned specialty stores, and Gramma Pearl's All-Nite Diner, where the cherries in the pie are as big as a ping-pong ball. Each fall, Greenbrooke hosts a glorious Fall Festival and Cider Tasting, wherein folks come from all across the region to enjoy carnival food, cups of delicious cider (both hot and cold!), and the crisp fall air.  Any visitor to Greenbrooke would certainly attest to the town's cleanliness and great atmosphere, as well as to the friendliness and warmth of the citizens of the town itself.

After all, it's not like the people of Greenbrooke had any choice.

In decades prior, Greenbrooke had been just another Rust-Belt town left to languish as industry left for overseas and poverty skyrocketed.  Crime--mainly in the form of theft and the drug trade--made the region borderline unlivable.  The village council members met one fateful fall evening, their board room all but deserted, aside from Charles Edward Larrick (the resident 'complainer', who made it a point to attend every meeting, and a tall, thin woman with sharp features, whom no one in the room could recognize.  She sat alone, in the back corner of the room, as the council ran through the usual items of their minutes, making sure that Larrick had plenty of time for his usual 'rant and rave' about the state of Greenbrooke.

At the end of Larrick's screed, the woman stood up, "Permission to ask a question, council members?"  Chairman Cooley nodded, gesturing to the floor as the woman continued, "I believe I have a revitalization plan.  There is a cancer that eats at the moral soul of Greenbrooke, which erodes you and keeps you from true greatness.  This filth pollutes you, it taints you...and I can take it all away.

The council members sat, enraptured by the woman's words...all but Larrick, who rose in protest.  With a single wave of her hand, Larrick's mouth sealed over, a swath of new-grown skin covering the entire lower half of his face.  As Larrick clutched at the spot where his mouth once was, the woman continued.

"I can cleanse you of this sin.  I can cleanse you of all your ills.  All you need to do is follow me..."

The woman led the group (minus, Larrick, who cowered away, clutching at his non-mouth) out into the streets.  As she led the council down Main Street, doors along the street started opening.  As if in a trance, one citizen after another began following the group, until the whole of the town arrived at the town's outmost limits.  There, the woman reached down and lifted a manhole cover, exposing the entrance to the city's sewer system.  

Entranced, Chairman Cooley stepped forward, possessed of an overwhelming urge to vomit.  As he retched over the manhole, the woman's eyes flashed green and Cooley expelled nearly a gallon of viscous black filth into the manhole.  One by one, the entire town expelled this filth into their sewers; as each person finished, they found themselves brought to tears of joy, as if years of weight had been lifted from their conscience.  As dawn broke over the town, the woman smiled, "Go now, and sin no more..."

Since that day, Greenbrooke has been a paradise.  Sheriff Ramsay hasn't made an arrest in years, spending most of his days draining the coffee at Gramma Pearl's and chatting with the locals as they come by.  Occasionally, there's a rumbling deep beneath the street, but Gerry Gordons (the state geologist) says it's just a minor fault line rumbling away far beneath the town.  Surely it couldn't be something as fanciful as all those sins, ready to drown Greenbrooke in a tidal wave of filth and evil and sin.

And meanwhile?  The only person who didn't lose their sins that day, Charles Edward Larrick has disappeared.  Children and teenagers, wandering out in the woods outside of Greenbrooke, often tell stories of The Mouthless Man who lurks out in the woods, trying to steal their teeth, so that he can rebuild his missing mouth.  But, in truth, he may be the only one ever to admit what befell Greenbrooke that fateful night.  And would anyone ever dare go back?

Villain of the Day:  October 3 (Mount Shasta)

The locals never gave Mount Shasta a second thought.  Just another mountain, with the typical hiking paths, scenic views, and camping spots.  Only the few crackpots who dared explore the mountain fully knew even fragments of the truth.

The local native tribes, known collectively as the Klamath, had their own legends about Mount Shasta.  Skell shamen and wise women told of the being known as the Skell, who was cast down from some far-off land and buried beneath the mountain iteself.  Skell, they said, had fought the "spirit of the Below-world", known as Llao, who entombed Skell's spiritual form within the stone and earth of the mountain itself.

Most people gave the Klamath no heed and, as California was settled and populated, the native people became as much of a legend as the stories of Skell and Llao.

Those stories became dormant until the turn of the 20th century, where explorer and author Frederick Spencer Oliver returned from the mountain's summit, babbling incoherently and bearing a scrawled mess of notes.  After being institutionalized for nearly 9 months, Oliver managed to piece together his notes....and nearly earned his way into another session of mandatory institutionalization with his deranged findings.

Oliver claimed that Mount Shasta was, in fact, alive:  wending through the tunnels and caverns within the mountain, Oliver stated that the mountain itself would shift and writhe beneath his footfalls, leading him into the most precarious passes and atop terrifying cliffs or at the bottom of great chasms.  The stalactites and stalagmites of the caverns formed gnashing maws, while flowstone formations burst into brackish limewater.

However, the deeper in darkness which Oliver roamed, the more strangeness that he found.  At the innermost depth, the explorer claimed, was a massive gateway covered with strange runes.  Gazing within, he could see an idyllic city, buzzing with activity and power.  Within, strange creatures loped and cavorted; Oliver was convinced that he had rested his gaze on lost Lemuria.

Oliver documented his findings quite thoroughly and, as such, Mount Shasta has become a magnet for all manner of weirdness over the decades.  The would-be psionicist Wisar Cerve claimed to have received strange postcognitive abilities after holding a vigil in the twisting passages, while others have claimed that a man claiming to be the Comte de St. Germain (the long-dead 8th Merlin, who died of arcane exposure while slaying the Fenris Wolf) wanders the surface.

The best known expedition into Mount Shasta was that of prospector and miner John Root, who was set to lead a team of 80 into the depths of mountain.  However, on the night before the expedition, Root left the encampment and began scaling the mountain's slopes.  He never returned, and the expedition foundered before it ever started.  However, Root's second in command and financier, Reginald Cowdray, later received a strange letter, written in Root's handwriting.

In runes that Cowdray could not read--runes later translated by 20th Century sorcerer Eckhard Mordiggan--there was a simple message: "Skell, Titan of Lemuria, holds court here.  None will pass through to the world below without its sanction."

Villain of the Day:  October 4 (Mike on the Bike)

If you drive through Hafter's Woods, just north of Rook City, the darkness and oppression of the city below seems to only compound the isolation of the forest.  Two-lane roads tangle through the thick forest, with snapping curves eager to take the unwary driver over the edge, careening down the hillside or, worse, into the Overbrook River.

But everyone around Rook City knows:  If you're driving through Hafter's Woods, don't ever pass a bicyclist at night, if you value your life.  Only a fool tries to pass Drowned Mike, the Man on the Bike.

Like so many stories go, a group of teenagers were Mike's first victims.  A cool October night, the group was celebrating a high school football win with a late-night joyride deep through Hafter's Woods, on their way to some secluded pull-off where shenanigans could be had.  Brock, the driver, had his car cranked up past 75, whizzing along the curves with abandon.  Eliza, his date, caught a glimpse of a red reflector ahead of them and made to shout a warning, but it was too late:  Brock's convertible clipped the Schwift bicycle with his bumper, sending the shadowed rider plummetting over the guardrail and down the hill, out of sight.

Brock pulled over the car as his passengers screamed bloody murder.  What should they do?  Brock and Eric scanned the hillside with their phones as Miranda tried desperately to calm down Eliza, who could only gape at the bent frame of the bicycle, crumpled at the side of the road, and the blood covering the guardrail.

The teens searched for almost an hour.  No body could be found.  Eric moved the bike off the side of the road, as Brock gathered some brush with which to cover it up.  Cold and forlorn, they clambered back into the convertible and shakily started heading back home.

That's when Eliza first saw it.  Behind them, the lone, pedal-powered headlight of another bicyclist.  Brock's eyes flashed back in the rear-view mirror disbelievingly.  It was 2am.  Who's out biking at 2am?

That's when the bicyclist raced towards them, pedaling at a speed impossible by any standards.  She screamed once more and yelled to Brock, "Go!  Faster!"  Glancing back, Brock shifted up, his engine roaring even as the simply bicycle kept gaining on them.  Pulling up beside the convertible, a meaty, grimy fist slammed onto the drivers' side windown.  Brock turned as the fist burst through his window, grabbing at his steering wheel and yanking it sharply to the side.

Miranda, supposedly, got the best look at the figure:  grimy and unwashed, he had the wet, tangled hair of a vagrant, his brow soaked in dried blood.  He hissed through broken teeth, jagged and rotting, "Faster!  Faster, kiddies!"  As if on command, Brock's foot slammed down, trying to hit the brake but, instead, flooring the accelerator.  The convertible screamed through the night and careened over the edge of the curve, crashing through tree and branch as the car plummeted down into the Overbrook River.  The last thing Miranda saw was the patch sewn onto the man's work-shirt:  "Hello, My name is Mike!  Can I help you?"

Rook City Recovery and Works Department needed almost 14 hours to pull Brock's car--and the four bodies within--from the muck and mire at the bottom of the river.  A funeral service was held, but word started spreading soon of a broken bicycle and the body of a homeless man found not far from the crash site.  What had those teenagers done?  Could something nefarious be afoot?

Since that day, tales of Mike on the Bike have become one of Rook City's most infamous urban legends, especially throughout the city's high schools.  Teenagers will dare each other to race through Hafter's Woods or, worse yet, to take their own midnight bike-ride through those infamous curves.  Very few have the nerve to test the veracity of the legend...

Villain of the Day:  October 5 (The Night Marchers)

It seemed like a paradise.  The remote Seashells resort seemed like the perfect honeymoon getaway for Rob and Cheryl:  the resort featured individual bungalows, none in sight of the other, but each featuring their very own hot tub (complete with privacy shades).  IT seemed like the perfect place for romance and relaxation.

Then the drums started.  The Night Marchers had arrived.  By sunrise, not one soul at Seashells was left alive.

Arcanists have known of the Night Marchers for centuries.  The spirits of ancient Polynesian warriors, interred in seaside temple platforms known as marae, would travel the seas, protecting their decendents from spiritual threats.  At night, the ancient Polynesians could hear the approach of the Night Marchers from the sound of echoing drums, which called these warriors back from beyond the veil to defend their decendents.  Hawaiian legends tell of ghost ships breaking colonist blockades or ta moko-clad warriors swarming over would-be conquerors.

However, with the deaths at Seashells resort, it has become evident to many that something has gone terribly wrong.  And, if several arcanists are to be believed, the fault lies with Gloomweaver.

Something dire seems to have happened during what's referred to now as the Skinwalker event, as the ancient Voodoo demon took on the form of The Rotting God, bringing back corpse after living corpse, devouring anything in its wake.  However, the sudden surge in necromantic energy pierced the veil between life and death, sundering the usual life cycle that governs existence.  Typically benign spirits went mad; meanwhile, long-banished spirits pour into the waking world each day, often resulting in new occult threats across the world.

In the case of the Night Marchers, the necromantic surged caused the Night Marchers to turn from protection towards outright vengeance.  Any not of their own bloodline become a target, bodies smashed by spectral clubs and slashed with ghostly ritual knives.

Unfortunately, if this theory proves true, only one solution seems evident:  Lifeline believes that a blood magic ritual could be used to return the Night Marchers to their true state.  Unfortunately, magic always has a cost...and someone will have to pay for their power.

Villain of the Day: October 6 (The Tooth Fairies)

What was once a childhood tradition of loose teeth and nighttime dollars in our reality reflected a much darker truth in another reality.

In the days of mighty Thule, where arcane power flowed like wine through the halls of the wealthy and powerful, the creatures known as Tooth Fairies borderlined upon a plague. Underclass sorcerers often made a living hunting and exterminating these and other beasties, rooting out nests and putting these creatures to the torch.

Tooth Fairies, when fully grown, are insectile creatures, much resembling what we might call a cicada larvae, though assembling in great hives that often can exceed 5 feet in diameter. However, only adult tooth fairies live in the hive.

To lay their eggs, tooth fairies seek out mammalian hosts. When the host sleeps, the fairy enters the hosts mouth and devours a single tooth, numbing the area as it eats with a secreted anaesthetic saliva. The fairy then lays a compound egg sac in the socket of the devoured tooth, which quickly crystallizes. Oftentimes, a victim may only think that they have chipped a tooth or such, not realizing they are a host until it is too late.

The eggs lay dormant for approximately 21 days before hatching into a swarm of tiny worms. Those fairy larva then proceed to devour the host’s remaining teeth before bursting forth from the host’s ruined, bleeding mouth to seek outthe nearest fairy hive.

Thusfar, oddly two such hives have been found in our reality, but the sheer number of fairies in each hive certainly brooks concern in arcane corners. The influence of lost Thule upon our reality seems to continue, unabated…

Villain of the Day:  October 7 (The Myers Hill Charnel Pit)

It seemed like a fine idea at the time.

In the days of the Civil War, the Myers Hill Hospital served as a Union surgical outpost along the Ohio River.  Used primarily as a recovery site, Myers Hill swiftly gained something of a gruesome reputation.

You see, as a surgical hospital, Myers Hill became one of the main locations for surgical amputation for both the Union forces and for their Confederate captures.  The four-floor hospital sat over a large hollow.  So high was the volume of amputations necessary after the battles of Bradenburg Crossing, Corydon, and Morgan's Raid, that the surgeons were said to be seen throwing the amputated limbs out of the hospital windows, down into the hollow, so that they could move onto the next patient and bury the limbs en masse.

And, that's exactly what happened.  Leg after shattered leg, arm after mangled arm were pitched wholesale into the Myers Hollow for nearly three weeks, with surgeons working round the clock to save the lives of what soldiers they could.  As hospital wagon trains made their way to the hospital gates, caravanners claimed that the smell of the rotting limbs in Myers Hollow stunk like death itself, and that they could occasionally see something squirming down below, as if some animal had tunnelled down into the mound of flesh to feed.  But, given the urgency of the situation, they simply moved as quickly as they could and brought the surgeons batch upon batch of new patient.

However, the battles in that region soon petered out and the war moved south and east.  The mound of severed limbs in Myers Hollow was buried over, with a nearby historical plaque to memorialize so many soldiers that had died or were injured during the nearby battles.  Myers Hill Hospital changed hands a number of times, eventually becoming a regional history museum.  While the gruesome history of Myers Hill Hospital was not forgotten, it simply became a part of the tour--a grisly historical footnote to feature during the Halloween ghost tours.

Curator Robert Parker was the first to discover the strangeness, though.  Eating his lunch each day at the benches overlooking the Hollow, he could have sworn that the topography of the land itself had started to change.  Like watching something wriggle from under a carpet, it was as if something alive was burrowing through the earth.  Four days later, the entirety of Myers Hollow had erupted into giant swath of upturned, blood-soaked grave earth.  

Arcane scholars still struggle to define exactly what the creature below Myers Hollow was, but its appearance is surely one of horror.  A roving amalgamation of undead flesh and clawing limbs, it appeared that every severed limb buried in Myers Hollow had congealed together and animated under some undue necromantic presence.  Since that day, the Myers Hollow Charnel Pit has made appearances at a number of other battlefields and burial grounds, each time leaving them scraped barren of human remains.  It only grows, week after week and month after month, awaiting the day to overtake the world in a tide of rotting bone and flesh.

Villain of the Day:  October 8 (Mister Misery)

Red Jenny held her head in her hands, sitting in the waiting area outside the Freedom Plaza infirmary.  Her third full mission as a member of the Sentinel of Freedom Epsilon Squad (known colloquially also as the Rainbow Guardians), simply couldn't have gone worse.  What was supposed to be a simple interception of a CRETIN heist had turned into a bloodbath.

Emerald Knight was currently in surgery; his body was pummelled into a bloody wreck by Adrenal.  The Eburnean was in fairly decent shape; his kinetic rerouting abilities served him well against Strut, though the initial collision with the cybernetic speedster did result in a dislocated shoulder and a few cracked ribs.  But Skyboy?  Red Jenny shook her head, tears falling openly now.  Caustic had caught Skyboy full-on in the face with a spray of sizzling acid.  He plummeted to the ground in a screaming heap, his body crunched awkwardly onto the top of a semi-trailer.

"Miss Red Jenny, I'm Doctor Moeller..."

Her vision blurry with tears, Jenny looked up.  A female surgeon stood before her, a clipboard in hand.  But behind her, someone strange...

His clothing was tattered and torn, yet jet black as if it had been soaked in crude oil.  In his hands he held a set of prayer beads, but instead of counting beads, a single thorn replaced each bead, dripping openly with blood.  But most distressing were his eyes. The man's eyes seemed to be vacant hollows, dripping with a black ichor onto the floor, where it sizzled and popped like hot grease.

Shouting a warning, Jenny flung the surgeon to the side, letting loose one of her "Spinning Jenny" blasts.  The cyclonic energy slammed into a wall and...nothing.  Jenny blinked away her tears.  The man was gone.

Dropping into a defensive stance, Red Jenny immediately activated her hands-free comm device, "Code 10-74!  Freedom Plaza infirmary!  All hands!"  Within moments, the room was swarming with superhero trainees, police, and GLOBAL response agents...who found only Red Jenny and Dr. Moeller.

Red Jenny provided a full report to her superiors at the Sentinels of Freedom, but the man she had seen was gone.  However, her eyewitness testimony began to corroborate a disturbing trend across the world.  The man--labeled as Mister Misery in the Sentinels of Freedom master file--appears to be some kind of occult horror, which preys upon those who are wracked by guilt or anguish.  Misery appears to magnify these feelings and, if confronted, will actively attack those it preys upon.  Those unfortunatels slain by Mister Misery appear to have superficial wounds, as if lashed with a scourge or--as Red Jenny noted--a set of thorn-studded prayer beads.

However, Misery's own nature seems to have kept him out of the public eye.  Based on Jenny's own investigation (a skill which has swiftly become one of her strongest, following the fall of the Rainbow Guardians), it appears that Mister Misery can only actually be seen through tears.  Someone not crying has no hope of even seeing this horror, much less imprisoning or defeating it.

Why couldn't Slenderman be this original?

Villain of the Day:  October 9 (Lernaeans)

The wars between Atlantis, Thule, and Lemuria brought many horrors into the world.  Eldritch sorceries, covenantss with otherworldly beings, and miscarriages of occult biometrics have left their scars upon the hidden places of the world, visible to only with those gifted with the ability to open their third eyes and see the truth.

The Lernaeans are a mere sample of the horrors unleashed in this primordial days and, in their day, were no more than Atlantean guard dogs.

Commonly known as hydras, Lernaeans were the the misbegotten creation of an Atlantean sorcerer named Lernaeus.  A flesh-shaper by craft, Lernaeus came of age as Atlantis clashed mightily against its two eldritch neighbors, and the Kings of Atlantis sought any new possible edge that might tip the scales in favor of Atlantis.  As such, Lernaeus began developing a guard creature, using a simple grub as a starting point.  He gifted that grub with immense size, the ability to burrow through earth, and a fanged maw capable of rending both armor and enchantment with ease.  While not truly intelligent, the hydras were given enough sentience to respond to trainers--Atlantean search parties often used Lernaeans when tracking down fugitives or in guarding sensitive installations and bases.  Lernaeus himself was lauded by his superiors; his creations worked exactly as intended.

The most notable feature of the Lernaeans, however, was totally an accident.  It so happened that the grub that Lernaeus used as his initial creature was a distant relation of the creature that we know as a planarian flatworm.  If destroyed or slain, a Lernaean hydra is capable of regenerating a distinct body from each of its finite parts, growing swiftly into a full-sized (about 9' long) hydra within hours.

While this accidental mutation earned Lernaeus even further accolades from his superiors--a legion of guard-creatures which only create *more* creatures if killed!--that very mutation led to his downfall.  It quickly became apparent that as a Lernaean hydra divides, its capacity for intelligence and sapience is divided between its newly divided selves.  After a few divisions, a battle-trained Lernaean would be reduced to outright savagery, seekingly only to feed and divide.  Beyond 6 or 7 divisions, a given Lernaean would simply not have the mental faculties to support homeostasis and a further division would simply result in death.

Lernaean hydras reached modernity's ears through the legend of Heracles, the half-Atlantean warlord known for his phenomenal strength, his equally phenomenal temper, and his prowess as a wrestler.  Today, we tell of Heracles' "twelve labors", though in primordial Atlantis, Heracles' tasks were more akin to missions, dispatched to him by the Kings of Atlantis.  His victory of the singular Lernaean hydra, in fact, was the act of putting an abandoned Atlantean outpost to the torch, having been overrun by overly-divided Lernaeans.

Lernaeans still haunt the deep places of the world, both in land and sea, and even the most cogent of them have long since gone completely feral.  Sightings of sea serpents and giant water snakes, most often, are simply Lernaean hydras--these include both "Champ" and the Loch Ness Monster.  However, a heroic encounter with such a creature may only result in the world being overtaken by the replicating creatures once more...

Excellent use of real-world myth! :D

I'll take it.  :P

So many of these have their roots in something from history, myth, or fairy tales.  The best types of monsters are the ones most familiar... 

Villain of the Day: October 10 (Murmux)

"Sleep with the weight of the world on your shoulders, and you shall give your nightmares fodder on which to feed."

Christine Ramandowski desperately needed a vacation.

Work had been incredibly stressful in recent weeks, with her often spending 10-12 hours days crunching data at her desk, wolfing down whatever food would deliver to her desk from Eat-Street.  Her teenage daughter had descended into a particularly rebellious phase, her ex-husband was late on alimony and child support (again), and an ongoing fight with her landlord had descended into a messy court battle.  "Just two weeks," Christine told herself, "Then maybe I can take some time off..."

As Christine looked up from her computer terminal, she stared blankly at the setting sun outside the plate glass windows of her high rise office.  Was that...a vulture?  In downtown Megalopolis?  How strange...

When Christine finally dragged herself home, her daughter was already in her room, listening to some punk rock anythem on blaring headphones.  Tossing her overstuffed briefcase onto a chair, Christine flopped face-down onto her bed.

She never rose.  After two straight days of sleep, Christine's daughter called EMS Express to take her mother to the emergency room.  After five days, Christine entered a state of brain-death.

Legends of the creature known as Murmux, also known as Murmur or Murmus in the Lesser Key of Solomon, have long stretched through occult circles.  Some believe Murmux to be a demon, while others have posited that the shape-shifting creature to be a servitor of Dread Gloomweaver, stealing away psychic energy to break down the veil between the Realm of Discord and the material world.  

Murmux most often descends upon individuals suffering undue amounts of stress, for whom a lengthy rest would seem a respite.  Masquerading as an vulture--Murmux's true form is something akin to a round-bodied creature standing atop twelve insectile legs, with a two-faced, crowned head that bears a human face on one side and a vulture's face on the other--Murmux descends upon the individual and implants them with an "oneiric seed" that keeps them asleep as he works his foul ministrations.

Murmux then bodily enters the individual's dreams, turning normal dreams into phantasmagorical nightmares from which the victim will never wake.  These dreamscapes are often surreal, with a victim fleeing from misshaped creatures in living landscapes or being tortured in all manner of physically impossible ways.  Murmux, all the while, observes from afar, tending the swelling oneiric seed and fertilizing the seed with the dreamer's fears.  

When the seed finally sprouts, the victim's mind is consumed by these irrational fears, overwhelming their conscious mind and leaving them a drooling husk.  Meanwhile, Murmux harvests as much realized fear as possible, then flees the dreamscape, returning to the physical world.

What Murmux *does* with these realized fears, however, remains a mystery.  Most believe that it simply uses the fear to add to its own power. Those who believe Murmux to be a servitor of Gloomweaver believe that Murmux channels the fear to its master.  Still others believe that Murmux requires this fear in order to feed or sustain itself.  In any case, the sweet respite of sleep no longer offers refuge from the horrors of the world.

Villain of the Day:  October 11 (The Tempter Bug)

Mike Hawkins always wanted a Puma x70.

The background on his computer was a scene of the sleek black sports-car, whirling along a banked curve.  His screensaver was a slideshow of the gorgeous piece of machinery, in all manner of dramatic poses.  His favorite was, undoubtely, the shot of the Puma roaring through a rainstorm, headlights beaming through the deluge, as it plunged towards the viewer.  Everyone knew that, once Mike finally decided to retire, that Puma would be his.

What shocked everyone, though, was the Mike didn't bother to wait.

Mike was arrested just across state lines, after a state trooper clocked him going 135 in a 70 zone.  Running the plates before striding up to the car, the officer immediately noted:  dealer plates.  After a quick exchange with Mike, it quickly became apparent:  that Puma was stolen.

Mike confessed to the crime, but his entire social circle was incredulous.  This was a guy who reported a $4.72 accounting error to his superiors during an audit.  This was a guy who would always give back the wallet he'd find on the street.  This was a guy who loved nothing more than sitting on his back porch with a cold drink, watching the sunset and listening to the sounds in the wetlands behind his house.  This was a guy who gave to charity, was always good for a favor, and was easily one of the nicest guys around.  What could possibly have driven him to steal a car, particularly one he was already saving up for?

The answer, at least according to some sources, lies in The Tempter Bug.

Believed to be a pseudo-natural mutation of a normal cicada, tempter bugs tend to congregate in areas of ambient occult power--swamps, graveyards, intersections of ley lines, and ancient ruins.  And, as it just so happens, the wetlands behind Mike's house was just such a location.

Tempter bugs affect humans by providing a low-level bioelectric interruption to the judgement centers of the cerebral cortex, allowing the natural wants and desires of an individual to overrun their logic and their adherence to social norms.  Under brief exposure, the drone of a tempter bug does little to influence individuals in any manner.  However, with repeated, continued exposure--or exposure to many tempter bugs simultaneously, that bioelectric interruption can swiftly turn the most moral, upstanding individual into a self-serving, id-driven madman.

Several factions have come into conflict over what to do regarding tempter bugs.  Some have advocated exterminating them en masse, though environmental rights activists have noted that tempter bugs represent a new evolution which should be protected.  Still others have attempted to collect tempter bugs, for surely nefarious purposes.  All of these factions dread the day when a swarm of tempter bugs move into a new, urban locale, which would surely descend into carnage within hours...

Villain of the Day:  October 12 (Flat Susan)

Chris Markham just wanted his wife back.

He hadn't meant to hit her.  The argument had just escalated, he equivocated; Susan threw that drink in his face and that just set him off.  He hadn't meant to kill her.  How could he have known she would hit the side of her head against the stove?  It wasn't his fault!

Despite his tears, despite his frustration and grief at his own callous, abusive hand, Chris managed to think quickly.  The crime scene was scrubbed clean, Susan's body was piled into the tarped bed of his truck, and Chris left the house at 2am, heading far out of town.  His destination?  A junkyard and recycling center three towns over.  In the darkness of the new moon, Chris dropped the tarp containing Susan into the trunk of a long-rusting sedan and drove off, tears still streaming from his eyes.

Chris Markham was found dead three days later, under the most unusual circumstances.

You see, despite Chris' abusive and foul intentions, Susan Markham was not dead.  She awoke in that tarp, mumbling and woozy.  That's when she heard the beeping of a nearby forklift, felt the sway as the entire junker she was trapped in lift up...and felt it crash into the car crusher.  As bone snapped and organs popped, Susan's mumbled curses surely must have reached the ears of some force of vengeance...two days after, she arose in a new form.

Chris Markham's body was found squeezed in all manner of grotesque ways, his body twisted and compressed as if smothered in a blanket which simply compressed him to death.  Only one eyewitness to the event came forward:  88 year old Agnes Hawley, who claimed that something slithered into the house itself, trailing blood and hair behind it.

Flat Susan has since become an urban legend throughout rural America, serving as a twisted pseudo-cautionary tale against any who might raise a hand against their spouse.  Flat Susan herself is borderline amorphous, capable of slithering across the ground, transmuting into various temporary shapes, and possessing an unearthly strength capable of twisting and crushing flesh.  However, her mind has been utterly shattered.  Despite having taken revenge on her killer, Flat Susan continues to target anyone who remotely resembles Chris (himself being a fairly non-descript, 40s-ish brunette male).  She prefers to stalk her prey, striking only when her target is isolated and unsuspecting. 

Since Chris' death, Flat Susan has struck four times, her prey always crushed and twisted in unnatural ways.  And she's not done yet.

Villain of the Day:  October 13 (The Eyes Beware Him)

Artist Bill Stoneham has long been said to have created one of the most haunted paintings known to man, The Hands Resist Him.  Urban legend spoke that, within the span of a decade, the owner of the gallery in which the painting had first been displayed, the original buyer of the painting, the first art critic to have reviewed the work, and the first family to have purchased it were all dead.  Tales of the disembodied hands, seeming to clutch at the vacant-faced children as they stared helplessly at the viewer, tearing free of the painting and slaughtering anyone who dared view the cursed work.

Bill's less known work, The Eyes Beware Him, makes his other work look like a simple vase of flowers.

Stoneham, as it turns out, is not only a student of the arcane arts, but also one of its most vindictive, misanthropic members. Stoneham, known in certain circles as Lord Exeter, utilizes his art as a medium for his hateful designs.  Utilizing a form of geomancy--the act of utilizing geometric shapes and movements to tap into ambient leyline energy--Stoneham seeds each of his canvasses with an intricate series of arcane linework, over which he paints a disturbing scene.  Arcane energy gathers in the painting over time, eventually releasing in a deluge of negative energy.

The Eyes Beware Him, however, may be Bill's piece-de-resistance.  Sketched in a method once used by Italian occultist Ignacio Gallo, the painting was colored almost entirely by the bile and internal fluids of three dying men.  The painting itself shows a man in drab, sitting in a padded room, as if incarcerated there.  His hands claw at his face in anguish, and a broken bottle of what might be a dark liquor spills out onto the floor.  As the viewer's gaze draws back, the horror of the drawing quickly becomes apparent:  the various segments of the room itself are, themselves, eyes; the man is trapped within a cell of eyes, ever-staring  into the angished figure with a gaze that wil never relent.

The spell encoded within the painting is one straight out of a body-horror nightmare.  If the spell take holds in the victim, their skin begins to split and crack over a period of days, eventually revealing foul, bloodshot eyes beneath the skin.  Eventually, the whole of the victim's skin sloughs away, revealing a flesh made entirely of squirming, bloodshot eyes.  In intense pain and madness, the victim flails away at any in the vicinity until their body discorporates into a mass of squirming, disembodied eyes.

Stoneham himself intends to attend the unveiling of his newest painting at the Overbrook Museum of the Arts.  If only the public knew what horror awaited them...

Villain of the Day:  October 14 (The Groves at Marlbury Heights)

The hills have eyes, they say, the trees hear every whisper in Marlbury Heights.  The people of the surrounding village (of the same name) fear every day that their deepest secrets would be revealed to anyone who dared walk in that cursed wood.

As it turns out, the forest surrounding Marlbury Heights harbors much greater dangers. The trees there stalk through darkness and do not brook interlopers of any sort.

And, while some have taken to calling the groves "cursed" or "haunted"--Marlbury Heights was long home to a mental institution, which was shut down in the late-1960s--though the truth of the matter is quite more strange, and even more otherworldly.

One of the star-seeds sent hurtling through the cosmos by the Stolon, the Prime Extensor of the Exciccatus, landed in Marlbury Heights' woods, embedding itself deep within the ruins of the long-forgotten Heights Home for the Mentally Disturbed, buried deep within the basement.  Cracking open, the star-seed's tendril roots began working their way into the vast root system of the forest outside the asylum's walls.  Within a matter of months, the entire forest became a part of the Exciccatus, executing the alien hive-mind's fell will from hundreds of light-years away.

To the poor souls living in Marlbury Heights, the horror stories from their woods simply keep coming.   Tales of interlopers hung by vines in the depths of the forest, of unwary teenagers impaled upon root and branch, of children who wander into the woods and never come out.  While the town elders have long-considered hiring a logging service to simply strip away the forest piece by piece, the tales of Marlbury Heights' horrors have kept away all but the most profit-driven logging companies.

Enter Toporos Logging and Clear-Cutting LLC.  Owned and managed by the ever-cash-motivated Paul Tavolini, Toporos is set to begin working on the east side of the Marlbury Heights woods in just a few weeks.  Paul is quite the skeptic, and would hardly let any "old ghost stories" get in the way of a several hundred-thousand dollar contract.  If he only knew what he was truly in for...

Villain of the Day:  October 15 (Johnny No-Face)

The stories surrounding Johnny No-Face are numerous and varied across the country.  None of the stories could have possibly lived up to the the day that Johnny No-Face actually appeared.

A long-time urban legend, teenagers and college students lumped Johnny No-Face in with Bloody Mary and Spring-Heeled Jack in terms of names to evoke around the campfire or while up late at night at a sleepover.  Those stories, though, never seemed to be entirely consistent.  Some said that Johnny was once a famous actor obsessed with perfecting his looks; he was so vain and conceited that his plastic surgeons refused to perform any more procedures.  Johnny dropped into a fit of rage, stalking and killing off each of his surgeons in turn, taking with him a number of surgical supplies.  When police finally caught up with him, Johnny had dropped into a fit of mania--in trying to 'perfect' his face, he attempted to perform a new surgery himself.  However, the surgery was so botched that nothing remained of Johnny's face; all that was left was a bloody ruin.  As police burst in, Johnny fled into legend.

Still others say that Johnny was no actor, but rather a Rook City informant who dropped some information on The Chairman's backroom dealings.  When one of the various underbosses of the Organization found out, they whisked Johnny away to an isolated warehouse.  There, Johnny's face had an unfortunate meeting with a belt sander, where the skin of his face was ground away until nothing but a bloody mess remained.  The thugs then simply dropped Johnny into a shallow grave, one less problem standing in the way of the Organization's daily operations.  

And yet others tell any number of variations on these themes.   Some say that Johnny's face was burned off with fire or acid.  Still others say his face was taken in an industrial accident or in some superheroic collateral damage.

All the tales, though, end the same way.  Johnny No-Face stalks the night, scalpel in hand, ready to find himself a new face.  Universally, victims claim that running from Johnny seems to be all but impossible; no matter how far one runs, Johnny always seems to find his quarry.  Hiding is a temporary measure, at best, as Johnny has a keen awareness for the location of his quarry.  Should he catch his prey, Johnny tries to remove their face with his scalpel, applying it to his own ruined head.  To date, no less than 8 faceless corpses have been found, attributed to Johnny's mania.

The few who have survived an encounter with Johnny No-Face continually cite one thing that has saved them.  So petrified of his own visage, Johnny can be driven back temporarily by the sight of his own reflection.  However, this is a short respite at best, as Johnny No-Face is nothing if not relentless.

Villain of the Day:  October 16 (Grand Marsh, Illinois)

The thing that descended onto Grand Marsh, Illinois defies all convention. 

When authorities first lost contact with the small, rural town, the first belief was some gas leak or some other mundane disaster had destroyed the town.  As EMS and hazmat crews descended onto the towns nearby , it swiftly became apparent that the town of Grand Marsh simply... wasn't. 

Rather, the buildings of the town stood as if the town had never begun inhabited.   No bodies remained in the city limits, no sign of motion, no evidence they anyone had ever lived in Grand Marsh.   However, in the center of town, something strange emerged. 

No two people were ever able to describe the thing in the same way.  One hazmat crewman described it as a swirling, crystalline spiral surrounding the town gazebo.  A second described it as an inky darkness, oozing and seething as if away a roiling boil.  Yet another saw something more akin to a 'crack' in reality, through which something watched. 

To this day, the entire town of Grand Marsh has been under military quarantine, with none permitted within its walls without expressed permission from the commanding officer, Lieutenant Leslie Natick.  To date, only three teams have been dispatched within the quarantine zone.  All three have disappeared without a trace.  Occult scholars have been stymied, as have the finest of the world's scientists.   

And only one fact seems to hold true.   Grand Marsh is spreading...

Getting into SCP territory here. :D

Villain of the Day: October 17 (El Gato Malvado)

The native tribes knew to fear it.   Deep in the Orinoco basin, something stalked the darkest jungles.  Something wild.  Something savage. 

And despite every warning against doing so, Dr. Maria Vasquez, professor of zoology at Megalopolis State University, was sure that her career would be built upon catching the beast known as El Gato Malvado.

Maria was forever a 'cat person', studying numerous big cat species in both South America and in sub-Saharan Africa throughout her academic career.  However, when rumors reached her ears of a particularly notable big cat in the Orinoco river basin, she began gathering as much information as possible.  El Gato Malvado was said to be responsible for the deaths of at least 14 citizens in the small town of Puerto Ayacucho, and of at least 20 tribal natives in the surrounding rainforests.  Those who glimpsed the creature and lived claimed it to have dark, ruddy fur and at least 6-8 clawed limbs-- something unheard of within big cats worldwide.  Survivors noted it to be whisper-quiet, given away only by a ferocious yowl as the creature pounced.

Securing funding from a grant through the Marklund Foundation, Maria led a group of zoologists, botanists, jungle guides, and survivalists into the deepest parts of the Orinoco basin in search of El Gato Malvado. 

That was three days ago.  No one's heard from them since. 

Villain of the Day:  October 18 (The Eye in the Deep)

Max took a long sip of his coffee as the last vestiges of the sun descended beneath the wine dark sea.  His knees ached; a storm was surely rolling in, despite the clear skies.  Billy, the newest hand on the oil rig, sidled up to the old-timer, still gnawing away at one of the sandwiches from dinner. 

"Can't beat the view, can you?"  Billy smiled in the twilight.

Max shifted his gaze, looking sideways at the 22-year old, "This your first time out, is it?"

"Yeah.  Do I come off as that green?"

Max chuckled, "You do.  You ain't seen the hard stuff yet.  We've had good weather.  That's about to change."

Billy shook his head, "I checked the weather.  Clear skies for days.  What makes you think it's going to rain?"

Max looked down.  The sea soaked in all the light, leaving a vast expanse of black to contrast the red-purple skies.  Squinting sideways, he could almost see it down there.

"You'd best get ready when the storm comes.  There ain't no shelter from the wind or the waves, even indoors.  It'll lash you like whips across your eyes.  Close 'em and you can't find your way around this thing.  Keep 'em open and you might as well go blind.  When the rain's comin' sideways and the wind scours your back, just remember one thing:  don't you look down."

Billy paused, audiably swallowing the last of his sandwich, "...you mean from the heights?  Never bothered me before."

Max stared down the new hand, grimacing, "You don't look down, because all you'll see is The Eye.  It's down there, watchin', waitin'.  In the storm, it rises up closer to the surface.  It can't break free yet, but it'll look right down your gullet into your deepest fears. And it'll call to you.  It'll speak right into that pea-brain of yours and tell you everything's gonna be all right.  All you gotta do is jump in, and it'll all be taken care of forever.  All your worries drowned in the embrace of the sea.... you don't dare look down."

Billy stood stunned.  A slight breeze picked up, curling cold across his neck.  He opened his mouth briefly, but no sound came forth.

Max turned on his heel, "The Greeks called it Charybdis, I think.  The big whirlpool sitting at the end of the world what swallowed Ulysses' ship.  It's had a lot of names, I'm sure.  Same thing remains no matter where it is.  It's down there, and it's looking up.  Don't you dare look down."

Max crumpled his styrofoam coffee cup into a ball and stalked away, tossing the cup into a nearby wastebin as he went.  Billy looked after the older rig-hand, unsure of how to even reply to such weirdness.  As the last few rays of sunlight descended and the stars emerged over the ocean, it was all Billy could do to keep from looking down into that wine dark sea.

Villain of the Day:  October 19 (Blink Scorpions)

The Realm of Discord is truly a place where seemingly anything can happen.  The more chaotic and bizarre the circumstance, the more likely it will appear within that plane of chaos and madness.  However, the same goes for the creatures that call the Realm of Discord home.  None may epitomize that strangeness better than blink scorpions.

Blink scorpions are so named due to their relative similarity in anatomy to the fatttail scorpion (androctonus crassicauda), though the the similarities between the two begin and end on at the holistic-anatomical level.  Blink scorpions often grow to the size of six feet in body length, reaching up to 10 feet when claws and tail are included.  Females tend to be larger than males, and the largest catalogued specimen of blink scorpion totalled twenty-six feet in body length.  Further, while most 'normal' scorpions tend to be dark in coloration, blink scorpions border on translucent; even their internal organs are relatively see-through, making detection of such creatures particularly difficult.

Blink scorpions, however, take their name from their preferred method of catching prey:  the use of a localized distortion field to stay outside of their prey's sight range.  The creatures reflexively teleport to the periphery of their target's vision, working in mated pairs to outflank and incapacitate their prey.  As such, few have actually seen a living blink scorpion for more than a few seconds; in most cases, those who have survived encounters with blink scorpions only truly recognize what they are fighting once the creatures are dead.

While they do attack with vicious claws and a wickedly-curved stinger, blink scorpions are not, by default, venomous.  However, much like the so-called 'poison dart frogs' of the Amazon, blink scorpions can take on and excude the toxins secreted by their food.  In such a case, the toxin often is visible within the blink scorpion's system, providing a vague green-black outline, ending at the tip of the scorpion's tail.  While the venom may provide the scorpion with more offensive capability, this outline does make them easier to detect and can provide a would-be target an easier time avoiding the blink scorpion while in combat.

To date, blink scorpions have not exhibited anything beyond basic insectile intelligence.  As mentioned earlier, they are often found in mated pairs, though larger colonies of blink scorpions are not uncommon.  Some nefarious forces across the Realm of Discord have even encouraged larger colony formation as a sort of natural method to defend against interlopers.  Female blink scorpions lay their eggs in fallen creatures, ensuring that their young have a tasty first meal ready and waiting upon their hatching.  Anyone discovering such a creature is sure to find it a foul surprise.

While not necessarily the greatest threat in the Realm of Discord, blink scorpions ensure that travelers should surely keep their guard up.

Villain of the Day:  October 20 (Plutarch)

The act of taking on a familiar is one that has been passed through arcanists throughout the ages.  While the magic used to summon a familiary actually verges on that of minor blood magic, the summoning ritual allows the caster to channel additional energy through their blood-linked familiar, enhancing their own abilities and providing the caster with a useful compatriot and spy.  The first Merlin, Myddrin Wyllt, was the first to call upon a familiar, an owl that became known ages later in fiction as Archimedes.  The Harpy called upon her familiars, Huginn and Muninn, early on in her arcane career, forever linking the powers over birds given to her by the Mask of the Matriarch to her burgeoning occult abilities.  

The cat known as Plutarch, however, is something unique:  a familiar without a master.  This is, primarily, because Plutarch has arranged to kill every master he has had, taking their arcane lore and artifacts for his own.

Plutarch began his life as a normal cat, raised to sapience as the familiar of a minor Renaissance-era occultist, Lavinia Cosimo Fabritio.  Fabritio was a talented enough arcanist, though her true love was that of collecting arcane baubles and jewelery.  Rings, amulets, brooches, and more:  Lavinia simply couldn't get enough.  her arcane laboratory looked more like a glittering treasury than a repository of knowledge and, true enough, Lavinia didn't quite know what she had gotten her hands on.  One of the necklaces that she had procured was, in fact, a Thulian "Forever-Star"--a teardrop-shaped diamond that was capable of trapping an individual's consciousness within it.  Seizing the opportunity of his owner's naivete, Plutarch stood by as Lavinia inadvertently whisked her consciousnessess into the diamond, with no way of emerging.  However, this left Plutarch in a unique situation:  with his blood-linked master trapped in stasis, he had become effectively immortal.

And, with such long life and so many arcane trinkets as his disposal, Plutarch fell swiftly into a power-mad lust.  He began seeking out other arcanists, offering to become their own familiar, fully knowing that the ritual would fail due to his already-extant bond with Lavinia, while still maintaining all appearances that the ritual had succeeded.  He then proceeded to accompany those arcanists, learning their rituals and their wards, all the while leading them into an untimely demise once Plutarch had full access to the depth of their arcane libraries.  

Since those days, Plutarch has been responsible for the fall of at least ten--possibly up to thirty--separate wizards, including the fifth Merlin, Francois Jollivet-Castelot, known as the father of 'hyperchemistry'.  With each fallen sorcerer, Plutarch adds to his own arcane library and lore.  While Plutarch himself is something of a limited spellcaster--not having a humanoid form does tend to limit one's options--his mastery of those artifacts makes him a cunning foe and a dangerous ally.  All in the form of a simple black longhair.

Villain of the Day:  October 21 (the Pwca)

As Patraig Magonus made his way across what are now the British Isles, he often came across strange creatures who menaced the local Celtic tribes.  While many of these were animalistic creatures, seeking only to devour and defile.  However, others were more than reasonable, if sinister and calculating.  Chief among theses, surely, were known as Pwca.

Small fairy-like creatures standing only about a foot tall, Pwca most often make contact with the humans near them while shapeshifted into some form of livestock animal, such as a goat or sheep.  On rare occasions, Pwca would take on the form of a human, though a shapeshifted Pwca always has some 'tell' that reveals their true nature.  Most times, this appears as a furry tail, vestigial ears atop their head, or a downy coat of fur. 

In most cases, Pwca simply want a taste of the human life.  Provide them with a meal, a fine piece of clothing, or some finished good, and the Pwca may well provide some reward.  Some of the occasions chronicled by Patraig showed the Pwca leaving their benefactor a chalice that magically filled with grain each day at sunrise, a coat that disguised the wearer from creatures they were hunting, or a fishing spear that never misses.  

However, on those occasions where a human comes into confrontation with a Pwca, the fairy becomes a nemesis unlike any other.  The Pwca will ceaselessly, endlessly harass their foe, destroying portions of their home, interfering with their works, and causing minor harm such as migraine headaches and muscle cramps.  Finally, when the foe is at their wits' end, the Pwca joins together with its tribemen, their skin turning from a pale gray to a deep vermillion.  The Pwca then surround the offender, each tearing a fragment of flesh away from the foe, leaving it crippled and bleeding in the forest.  As each Pwca devours their stolen bit of flesh, the target is spiritually sundered, vanishing from the memories of everyone who ever knew it.  When the bloody feast is finished, it is as if the foe has never lived.  The only evidence that they ever existed remain in writing or in pictures.

Modern arcanists, however, have noted that Pwca have become more and more aggressive--their natural habitats have long been stripped away, driving them to the furthest corners of the once-Celtic isles.  And, concurrently, certain people have begun vanishing, if they had never existed...

Villain of the Day:  October 22 (The Street Sweeper)

Little Jimmy Holland rose before dawn.  Mom had already been in twice, gently urging him to wake up.  These days when pre-school was still on break, Grace Holland had to wake up a full hour earlier, so that she could drop Jimmy off at her mom's before heading off to work.

Jimmy wolfed down his toast and juice fast enough to give him the 'belchies', as Mom packed up his day pack.  Gramma's house wasn't particularly fun, but Grandpa was always ready to play action figures with Jimmy, as the two clashed together their plastic figures of Legacy, Bunker, and Baron Blade.  Mom zipped up Jimmy's coat, then her own, and the pair headed down the stairs of their townhouse to get in their car.

The Rook City streets seemed louder than usual that morning.  The orange sodium streetlights cast an unhealthsome glow upon the parked cars along McGillis Avenue as the sounds of traffic seemed to snowball into a cacaphony of city sounds.  As Mom slid her briefcase into the back seat and started setting up the car-seat, Jimmy stared absently down the street.  

The headlights of the massive Street Sweeper were already bearing down on them.

Jimmy's eyes gaped, his mouth hung upon wordlessly, as the massive contraption slowly inched its way up McGillis Avenue.  The rumbling whir of its thrashing, spinning wheels slammed into the back of a sedan, pulling the bumper into the sweeper's voracious maw, followed by the trunk, then the whole of the car itself.  Within seconds, the car was gone, and the brushes sprayed out fluids of black and blue behind it as the street sweeper trudged on.

"Mom....mom....mom...."  Jimmy mumbled, dumbfounded.

On the steps down the street, slept Mister Billy.  Mom often warned Jimmy of talking Mister Billy on her own, but he was always kind to Jimmy and Mom would occasionally hand Mister Billy a $20 bill, telling him to go grab something hot to eat.  Mister Billy was oblivious to the noise, as the street sweeper rumbled up onto the sidewalk, mowing down a tree as it went, the autumn leaves spraying out from the back of the terrible machine in an orange-yellow mist.

Mister Billy didn't wake up until the sweeper was nearly on him, his left leg sucked into the whirling brushes.  He had time to scream once--just another noise in the Rook City morning--before the spray of red emerged from the rear of the street sweeper.

Jimmy shook, trembling like the last leaf on a frost-covered tree.  "Mom, go!  Wanna go!  Go now!"  Jimmy started crawling up into the car, even as Grace fumbled with the seatbelt clasp.

"Jimmy, wait!  I need to finish getting it ready."  As Mom lifted him up and buckled him in, Jimmy arched his neck, watching the massive machine bear slowly down the street.  Mister Billy was nowhere to be seen. 

"Go, Mom!  Wanna go!"

"Okay, Jimmy, okay...give me one minute.  You stay here; I left my cell phone in the kitchen.  I'll be right back.

Jimmy's face grew red with tears and screaming as he howled his protest, "No, Mom!  Go!   Wanna go!"

But Mom jogged swiftly up the stairs, keyed in the lock, and disappeared behind the front door.  Strapped into his car seat, little Jimmy couldn't see how close the street sweeper had come.  He could only hear the sounds of the city, growing louder and cacaphonous around him...

Villain of the Day:  October 23 (Blast Shadows)

Any welder could tell you; don't look into the light.  

Blast Shadows are what happens when people don't heed that advice.

Originally referring to the shadows left burned into the ground following a nuclear explosion, the term blast shadows were first applied to creatures that arose in Mexico City following the detonation of Borr the Unstable, one of the numerous cions of OblivAeon.  Borr's explosion devastated the city proper, though without the intervention of several heroes, the whole of the region may have been immolated.  Despite this, the explosion of Borr resulted in the deaths of at least 35 individuals, with hundreds of others injured.

Fernanda Oliveira was one of those 35.  Attempting to flee home from her office, she was caught in Borr's blast radius when the creature detonated, presumably vaporizing her near-instantly.  However, in the long days of recovery following the OblivAeon event, something strange began to occur.  

Something had started to relive Fernanda's life.

Each day, individuals familiar with her daily routines started to note a fleeting, human-shaped shadow following the same paths that Fernanda herself would follow.  Her daily jog, her stop for coffee and breakfast, her commute to her office job--this strange being seemed to be following the basic impressions of Fernanda's life, step by step.  

As it turned out, those individuals who were within a certain radius of Borr's explosion were subject to overwhelming exposure to cosmic energy.  However, those who happened to be staring directly at Borr as he exploded felt that cosmic power radiate up their optic nerves, directly into their brain, even as their eyes melted under the intense heat.  That cosmic power reacted with the individuals' natural biochemistry, resulting in a residual energy-based being, imprinted with the vague memories of that individual.  As such the newly formed 'blast shadow' was left believing that it was, in fact, the long-dead individual, following their routines and acting out some semblance of the life they left behind.

While blast shadows can be frightening, they truly only become dangerous when kept from their routines or if confronted with the fact that they are, in fact, not the individual they believe themselves to be.  If arrested in such a manner, blast shadows can prove to be particularly menacing foes, as their incorporeal nature makes them impervious to most attacks.  Blast shadows most often retaliate with blasts of cosmic energy released from where their eyes would have been.  To date, the preferred method to deal with blast shadows has simply been to let them roam and avoid interference at all cost...

Villain of the Day:  October 24 (The Lord of the Bees)

Dr. Brent Kernan was always fascinated by the lowliest creatures of the Earth.  Now, he stands on the verge of becoming one of them.

An entomologist specializing in apiary science, Kernan was stripped of his doctoral degrees and any sort of respect in the scientific community, following the reveal of the controversial Acarapis project.  While working for one MoniGen, of the Big Six agribusiness firms, Kernan spearheaded Acarapis as a method to systematically elminate the world's native populations of honeybees, with the intent to replace them with a proprietary, company-owned species.  Kernan took the fall for his employer, who proceeded to rebrand and remarket their "super-bees" to America's farmers, implying that a yearly contract with them would result in increased pollenation rates and much stronger crop production rates.

However, what MoniGen did not realize was the depth and breath of Kernan's fascination.  And, for that matter, how much research Kernan held in his own, private servers.  

Once a member of TALOS, before that organization cut him loose on account of his psychotic nature, Kernan seeded his 'super-bees' with a number of self-replicating nanites, allowing him to utilize a specially-designed helmet to telekinetically control the swarm.  However, Kernan's ambitions have not stopped there:  rather, he has begun working to splice his own DNA with that of his own bees, utilizing their own perfected genetics to enhance his own.  That genetic tampering has come with a number of massive drawbacks, of course.  Not the least of these has been the hideous transmutations Kernan has undergone:  his eyes crystallizing and compounding, the slow sprouting of gossamer wings from Kernan's back, and more.

Even as Kernan slowly transforms into a Cronenberg-esque horror, the self-styled Lord of the Bees continues his designs in secret, utilizing a remote family haunt deep in the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia to breed and develop his ants.  Utilizing some TALOS-proprietary growth tech, Kernan secures his compound with giant-sized drones linked directly to his own neural network.  To a casual observer, Kernan even seems to 'dance' across his laboratory, often preferring gesture and intonation to even words. Though, truth be told, anyone who dares try to converse with Kernan at this point may only result in sorrow.

Thin veils are thin. :V

But does he have a briefcase full of bees?

If not, he should.  Bees everywhere. 

I don’t remember…

Also, Bees.

Villain of the Day: October 25 (The Stairwell Man)

Wait for day; turn on the light 

The Stairwell Man can wait tonight.

He stands a-waiting, shadow-still 

Upon the landing with his kill.

The body drips upon the stair 

The Stairwell Man is waiting there.

Bloody shears glint in his hand:

A snik-snak blade at his command.

Light drifts in from window cracked /

The Stairwell Man is dressed in black.

Caked in gore with gloves of red, 

If he grabs you, you'll be dead.

A broken lightbulb slowly swings 

The Stairwell Man in silence brings 

a grisly fate for any daring

climb the stair where he is staring.

Light the candle, fire the torch.

The Stairwell Man is on the watch.

In darkness black does evil dwell

Bodies lying where they fell.

He waits for you upon the landing,

The Stairwell Man with crimson banding.

Pray he stays upon the flight 

and will not descend tonight...

Bravo! Though I got the feeling you were looking down at him the whole time, so wouldn't that be 'ascend' at the end?

Urban legend, so it's likely been sung both ways...

Villain of the Day:  October 26 (Yateveo)

Edmund Spenser once mentioned the Yateveo, in a version of The Faerie Queene known only to the most learned occult scholars.  That once-mentioned horror, however, has been the downfall of so many explorers in the hidden parts of the world.

A form of massive plant known to be native to legendary Thule, the Yateveo tree has gone by many names over the years.  Within modern record, it has been known as the kulamtu, vampire vine, the Madagascar tree, the Judas tree, and the devil's snare.  One of Spenser's sorcerous contemporaries, the German phisosopher Karl Liche, described the being's attack as vicious, "The slender delicate palpi, with the fury of starved serpents, quivered a moment over her head, then as if instinct with demoniac intelligence fastened upon her in sudden coils round and round her neck and arms; then while her awful screams and yet more awful laughter rose wildly to be instantly strangled down again into a gurgling moan, the tendrils one after another, like great green serpents, with brutal energy and infernal rapidity, rose, retracted themselves, and wrapped her about in fold after fold, ever tightening with cruel swiftness and savage tenacity of anacondas fastening upon their prey."  Another occult biologist noted that the Yateveo almost appeared as "many huge serpents in an angry discussion, occasionally darting from side to side as if striking at an imaginary foe" which seize and pierce any creature coming within reach."

Yateveo seem to gravitate to the forbidden, forgotten areas of the world.  They tend to thrive in tropical island climes, so they are most often found on Madagascar (hence the name), Indonesia, and Insula Primalis.  While they are capable of eating any sort of mammalian prey, yateveo seem to decidely prefer intelligent prey, actively seeking out sentient life forms for consumption.  Being plants, yateveo do not move particularly quickly, but unwary explorers have been known to rest in areas frequented by yateveo, never arising again as the plant creature devoured them as they slept.

Most distressing, however, may well be the introduction of yateveo into the Northm American continent.  Agribusiness firm XyloFrond has made a concerted effort to study and cultivate yateveo at its California-based farming compounds, with their botany specialists often accompanied by armed guards as they make their way through the grounds.  If those sprouts were to spread, the devastation unleashed upon California would be catastrophic.

Villain of the Day:  October 27 (The Russian Remnant)

Alexander Tsarev steeled himself.  

He knew the ritual would make him into a soldier capable of taking on the corruption of the decadent West, but this?  The use of strange sorceries culled from Nazi bunkers?  Discordian rites stolen from ancient Thule?  This was over his head.  But, to preserve the glorious Soviet state, he was ready to try anything.  He had put his trust in his superiors--Major General Piotr Staurakios seemed to understand this much more than Alexander himself did--and he knew that trust would be rewarded.

Initially, the results were a success beyond measure.  Tsarev found that he could create clones of himself with but a thought.  He had become a one-man-army, a single man capable of taking on an entire regiment of trained troops.  

That was before The Russian Remnant began to appear.

Tsarev knew that there was no way for him to recover each of the arcanely-created clones that he had left across the battlefields of Southeast Asia, of South America, of Eastern Europe.  He was sure that he had left countless bodies, all identical copies of himself, in bunkers and in military bases the world over.  Both he and his superiors were sure that these were just bodies; just meat and bone and sinew left to rot in the wake of the expansion of the Soviet state.  They surely weren't anything more.  They surely weren't true people.  They had no consciousness, no self-awareness, no true personality beyond Tsarev himself.

They couldn't have a soul, could they?

As World War III raged on, as Tsarev brought his talents to battlefields the world over, spectral forms of his fallen bodies began to rise, haunting the places where they fell.  Ghastly forms, bearing the ragged wounds of their deathblows, floated spectrally through the blasted No Man's Land, terrifying any who dared gaze upon them.  With each mission Tsarev was assigned, more and more of the Russian Remnant began to appear, forever fighting a battle that none would ever win. 

And, of course, as the OblivAen crisis raged on, the legends of Alexander Tsarev, the 'super-soldier' reached the ears of the ever-wandering Haka, who brought Tsarev through to our realm.  And, while Tsarev himself managed to return to his war-torn world, a part of the Russian Remnant remains...

Villain of the Day: October 28 (The Devil's Own Herd)

There's a legend out in the southwest.  As the storm rolls in across the Texas plains, the devil himself rides out to take his herd to pasture.  A herd of red eyed steers thunder across the dusty prairie, their hooves burning like molten steel and brimstone streaming from their maws.

As it turns out, there might just be some truth to that tall tale. Just not in the way an old cattle-puncher might have you believe. 

The first sighting of The Devil's Own Herd was actually made by a series of volcanologists, indicating a fissure in the earth near the Balcones Fault in southern Texas.  Finding that the fissure led to deepest Magmaria was a shock unto itself, but what the researchers found within defied sanity. 

There, in the heart of the Earth, was a twisted mockery of a fully operational cattle ranch, south the bodies of both humans and Magmarians staked out as if to ward away any interlopers.  Within, a series of the most vicious Crystalloid Behemoths that any of the researchers had come across.  Worse, their natural claws and teeth had been filed to razor shards, their maws still stained with the blood and ichor of the recently devoured. 

However, the most dire horror there beneath the earth was surely the figure in black.  A mockery of some American cowboy, he strode out, shouting in a language none of the researchers could recognize.  Shouting threats and weaving lava through his fingers, he commanded the Behemoths to charge...

Only three of those researchers managed to return to the surface; surely the remainder was slain and eaten by the mysterious rancher.  But since that day, when the storm is about to roll in, that herd of behemoths, led by the dark ranchhand, can still be seen thundering across the surface world.  Woe betide any who cross their trail...

Villain of the Day:  October 28 (Ol' Stitch)

They say 'the clothes make the man'.  The being known as Ol' Stitch would be just as happy pursing the man to make the clothes.

Often masquerading as human, Ol' Stitch is expert in the art of anthropodermic bibliopegy--the art of utilizing human skin  in the binding of books.  However, its true passion was not for bookbinding, but rather than the art of shaping flesh and skin into articles of clothing and armor.  For decades, Ol' Stitch has stalked the darker corners of this world, collecting the indigent and forgotten to craft masterpieces of horror, all the while thwarting the numerous efforts of intrepid investigators to capture it.  In all actuality, however, Ol' Stitch is a demonic being with teeth resembling rotten needles and lengthy fingers and nails that 

Only two known villainous groups have ever managed to make contact with Ol' Stitch on any sort of 'friendly' basis:  the now-destroyed Kingsport sect of the Cult of Gloom, and that enigmatic madman known as Biomancer.

In documents recovered by the occult huinter known as The Redblade, there seemed to be a long-standing relationship between one of the cult leaders in Kingsport and Ol' Stitch.  Ol' Stitch had apparently provided the cultists there with a large number of ensorcelled armor and bracers, all made from the flesh of those sacrificed by the cult themselves.  The cult leader, one Merritt Olney, noted a single reference in his journal, insinuating that Ol' Stitch may have, in fact, been the creature who bound the Grimoire of Curses and affixed the head of the Drum of Despair.  In both cases, occult scholars have posited, this would insinuate that Ol' Stitch seems to not only be centuries (not decades) old, and that it may have been among the ancient forbearers of Gloomweaver's cult.  What Ol' Stitch had been doing in the meanwhile, however, is anyone's guess.

Somewhat strangely, where Ol' Stitch has proved to be an ally to Gloomweaver and the Cult of Gloom, the demon seems to be friends with Biomancer.  While Ol' Stitch has not actually been seen with Biomancer--really, who has?--comparisons between Biomancer's flesh-children and Ol' Stitche techniques abound.  Further, Ol' Stitch has often been encountered with numerous flesh-children, who defend it to the last.  Whether Biomancer gave Ol' Stitch these creatures or if Ol' Stitch created these on its own remains to be seen, though Ol' Stitch has shown no indications of creating flesh-children on any occasion. 

Most recently, Ol' Stitch has been sighted around some of the ruins of San Alonzo, picking over the remains of the devastated city.  One could only imagine what the vile creature may make from the bodies collected in such a disaster.

It strangely warms my heart to think that even a gross weirdo like Biomancer has friends. That he didn't make himself. Who are also gross and weird. :B What can ya do?

Between Ol' Stitch and Madame Mittermeier, Zosimos sure does make the rounds.  Wonder if he has a FleshBook account?

Villain of the Day:  October 30 (The Melting Man)

Don't ever pick up hitchhikers, friends and neighbors.  Especially if they start dripping their way through your passenger seat.

A long-time urban legend, The Melting Man most often features in stories of long-haul truckers and those who do a lot of highway traveling.  In near all cases, the story goes the same.  The lone driver picks up a non-descript man on the side of the road late at night.  The man is dressed in a rumpled suit, and claims to be able to pay for a trip to the next closest city.  If invited in, he takes a seat, introduces himself, and engages his host in thankful, polite conversation.

That's when the weirdness starts.  As the trip continues, the hitchhiker slowly becomes less and less cogent.  As conversation continues, His grip on language and cogent thought begins breaking down.  He grows increasingly frustrated at seemingly random items--"No, that's not right!  That exit isn't there!  You're in the wrong lane!"--sweating profusely all the while.  However, an astute driver, who takes their eyes off the road for just a second, will surely notice that the passenger isn't sweating.  Rather, he is liquifying.  As the trip continues, the hitchhiker slumps down in his seat, as his spine loses cohesion, eventually becoming a dripping horror of molten skin and flapping sinew.

Inevitably, the story ends with the driver's car being found on the side of the road.  The driver there sits bolt upright, dead from drowning.

While the story of The Melting Man has gone down in urban legend, there is a kernal of truth behind it.  Jason Markham, once a hired hand and occasional vagrant in the Rockies, took a job as a human test subject for a government health project.  Little did he know that he had actually signed up for testing as part of Black Site 515-Tango's ongoing efforts to decode Grand Warlord Voss's gene-binding technology.  Splicing Jason's DNA with an alien creature with a fluid form made him into an ideal blend of human and Gene Bound Pursalian...for about fifteen minutes, before his body discorporated and was swept up into a biohazard tank.

However, awash with biohazard waste and chemicals, Jason's consciousness began to pull together his form.  He can hold his human form for approximately half an hour, though the longer he stays in his human form, the more his mental state degrades.  As he slowly liquifies, he descends into a confused madness, often ending up in violent argument.  By the time that Jason totally liquifies, he becomes no more than an enraged, homocidal glop of humanoid water, leaving anyone in the vicinity seemingly "drowned".  

To date, Jason has wandered throughout the American West, giving rise to the legend of The Melting Man...

Now that’s a horrifyingly original take on the phantom hitchhiker…

Villain of the Day:  October 31 (Typhon)

It was only a fish.  A seahorse, to be more specific.  Now, it's so much more.

That enigmatic chemical, Isoflux Alpha, has left an indelible impact upon the universe, with hundreds (if not thousands) of Omegas emerging across the world, bearing untold powers derived from that strange, cosmic radiation.  Overwhelmingly, those Omegas have been humans, resulting in the emergence of the wholly new biomedical field of metabiology.  However, astute biologists have noted that, on rare occasions, animals have been subject to the Isoflux Alpha particle, most notably the man-sized Komodo that serves as a bodyguard to Dr. Emershan Laurent.

The creature designated Typhon is the first known "naturally-occuring" animal Omega.  And, if not checked, it certainly will not be the last.

Scientists currently believe that the titanic Typhon was once merely a Severn's pygmy seahorse:  a creature no bigger than an inch.  However, after exposure to an Isoflux Alpha particle, the seahorse grew to titanic size, sprouting additional snouts and tails until it resembled nothing so much as a massive tentacular splay with a gigantic sea-horse head sprouting from the central trunk.  Typhon has been particularly destructive, having made landfall in Sri Lanka and nearly crushing the city entire as it smashed and devoured its way across the island.  The greatest damage, however, came from expulsions of irradiated sea slime which Typhon was capable of spitting to a distance of half a mile.

Some have questioned, however, how could such a thing come to be?  In the case of Komodo, the Isoflux Alpha particle came from the creature devouring a portion of an already-identified Omega.  However, for a coral-dwelling, plankton-eating seahorse, this could simply not possibly be the case for Typhon.  Some have noted that larger seahorses are capable of eating small crustaceans, implying a carnivorous diet; these researchers have concluded that even amongst its diminuitive species, Typhon may have already been a mutant of some sort, which may have made it suceptible to the Isoflux Alpha radiation.

It was during that Sri Lanka event that Typhon was first named and identified, and whereupon its true terror comes from.  You see, Typhon appears to have mutated from a male seahorse....meaning that it currently bears a whole brood of giant-sized young.  Typhon is, if nothing else, the father of monsters.  If not found and destroyed, it may mean that an entire legion of Omega-powered sea monsters await the world's seas, to say nothing of the tremendous Typhon itself.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

As Halloween falls, we've reached the end of our Monster Mash October.  Starting tomorrow, we begin No-Powers November:  a legion of foes who rely on their wits and cunning rather than superhuman abilities, occult sorceries, or strange devices.  

Just two months to go!

That is so cool, what a way to end this month. :D

Glad you like it!

I really wanted to end the month with something that could go toe to toe with Invirodan from October 1.  Plus, who can resist the alliterative appeal of The Titanic Typhon versus The Insidious Invirodan?!

Ohh, I see your game now! :V

As we put away the jack-o-lanterns and delve into our full sacks of candy, we bid a fond farewell to Monster Mash October.

Now, we welcome to No-Powers November:  a whole month of adversaries who don't rely on fabulous mystic powers or phenomenal technology.  Rather, they use their wits, their cunning, and a few tricks to make life aggravating for our heroes.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

Villain of the Day:  November 1 (Riposte)

You might say that Donald Marozzo has something of a fixation.

Even as a teenager, Donald--"Donnie" to his friends--was an active member of his area's medieval reenactment scene, as his parents frequented the Renaissance Faire circuit.  Donnie swiftly immersed himself in fencing and heavy combat training, which he took to like a fish to water.  Within a few years, he had made a name for himself on the jousting and heavy combat circuit, winning numerous championships.

Luckily for Donnie, he was savvy enough to turn his passion into a career.  Hiring an agent, he began auditioning for stunt double and other minor roles in various action movies, which quickly evolved into roles as fight choreographer for the "Legends of the Blade" trilogy of films and its subsequent spin-off TV series:  "The Axeheart Legends".  Marozzo swiftly became known for striking a firm balance between authenticity and 'flash', as well as his easy-going nature behind the scenes and his ability to work with even the most tempermental actors.  When pop diva Bellatrix was cast as Red Mariah in "Legends of the Blade II", Donnie quickly became one of her closest confidantes, with director Hugo Mattings often making requests for Bellatrix through Donnie.

However, Donnie's interest in swordplay was no mere career or personal hobby.  As he grew in age, his carefully cultivated sword collection--all hand-forged, all as 'authentic' as possible--grew exponentially, with the walls of his Megalopolis loft covered in blades of all shape and sizes.  That, in fact, is when the trouble began; when Donnie began to descend into mania.

The discovery of a Viking era sword in a Scandinavian lake made headlines the world around, as a ten-year-old girl discovered the blade while on a family day trip.   While the family donated the sword to the national museum, Donnie knew that this artifact must join his collection.  Disguising himself as the rakish Riposte and arming himself with all manner of blades, Donnie traveled to Norway to relieve the museum of the newfound prize.  The theft, of course, made international headlines, as Riposte eluded authorities and the sword seemingly vanished.

Since that day, Donnie has sought blades across the world, using his unique skills in combat to elude and humiliate any who might stand in his way.  As Riposte, he has stolen the 2000-year old Sword of Goujian, an authentic Aztec Macuahuitl, and a sword believed to be owned by Salah ad-Din which was lost during the Battle of Jaffa in 1192.  However, his greatest prize still lays before him:  the rune-carved blade of Absolution...

Villain of the Day:  November 2 (Clevon Washington)

Whatever happened to Clevon Washington?

Once one of the baddest mutha- ("Shut yo mouth!) to strut down Rook City's south side, Clevon Washington was best known as the guy who always had whatever you need.  Need someone to watch the street while you have a chat with a store-owner?  Clevon was out front, eyeing up the street for you.  Need to bust some heads in a back alley?  Clevon was there with his big .357 and a tire iron, ready to whup upside some heads.  Need a way into that nightclub?  Clevon's got a VIP ticket.  

Then, he vanished.

It was no surprise that a bunch of bad muthas had Clevon Washington on their hit list.  Clevon walked on the lean side of the law, with the NCPD itching to find something they could take him downtown on.  However, Clevon also managed to interfere with The Chairman's operations enough to make more than a few enemies amongst The Organization.  Not the least of these was the late Contract, whose hired guns took a hefty beating from Clevon down at the South Street Laundry.  The Contract had personally planned to take on Clevon, but that was before an encounter with a crocodile-shifted Naturalist had left The Contract broken in the Rook City sewers.

One would figure that Mister Fixer might have kept tabs on Clevon, especially given that they'd worked together on a few rare occasions, but after Slim's brush with death and resurrection, the zombified Fixer never cared to make contact with Clevon.  The one person who may have an idea of where Clevon has gone might be Black Fist's old squeeze, Sweet Miss Coffee Brown, but she herself has all but disappeared from the Rook City streets.  If nothing else, any would-be vigilante on the Rook City streets may find themselves asking the question, "Whatever happened to Clevon Washington?"

Villain of the Day:  November 3 ('Deetz' Lorenzo)

If being a witness was a professional lifestyle, Tolito 'Deetz' Lorenzo would be a millionaire by now.

Born to a mixed race family in a less-than-savory portion of Megalopolis--his father was from the Dominican Republic, while his mother was African-American--Tolito practically grew up hustling.  In elementary schools, the proximity of his name to a certain deep-fried snack product--"Hey, homes!  He's the crunchiest!"--caused Tolito to take on the nickname of 'Deetz' to avoid merciless mockery and chip references.  In high school, 'Deetz' did just enough to pass his coursework, while simultaneously selling cigarettes, stolen test keys, and any number of minor things that could earn him a fast buck.

Unfortunately, as Deetz graduated and was unable to find steady work, he found that there was always cash to be had moving illicit product, acting as a lookout, or otherwise aiding in some of the low-key crimes that tend to be overlooked by the costumed heroes of Megalopolis.  Never managing to get rich, Deetz continued taking jobs for whoever needed a trustworthy set of eyes,

However, for some strange reason, Deetz always seems to be front and center for the most climactic events that confront Megalopolis.  The 'Rat Plague' epidemic?  Deetz watched those Revocorp guys hauling a way a giant mutant rat in one of their security trucks.  When Baron Blade brought his goon squad through town, Deetz drove right under one of those giant Mobile Defense Platforms, as he went to pick up a few crates of stolen guns to sell from the pawn shop he was working in.  As Progeny ravaged the city, Deetz had a front row seat from his apartment's fire-escape, watching all the carnage go down with some popcorn and a stiff drink.

While Deetz is strictly small-time in terms of crime, his propensity to be at the right place at the right time can potentially make him a useful informant to any would-be hero needing the low-down on what's going on in Megalopolis' underside.  Getting Deetz to talk, though, is totally its own challenge; Deetz would much rather beat feet than talk to any "underpants-on-the-outside narc", especially if he's actively carrying stolen goods, selling drugs, or on the job for one of the gangers in Megalopolis.  However, if pressed in the right way, Deetz might just provide the clue an investigator might need to crack open a case..

Villain of the Day:  November 4 (Mai Rou Zhe)

Amid the chaotic markets of China, you can find almost anything.  Bootleg DVDs of the latest Night Hunter movie (even before it's released!), exotic bits of animals roasted or fried before your eyes, and all manner of medicinal remedies to cure everything from anemia to yellow fever. 

Mai Rou Zhe, however, specializes in something much more morbid.

The individual known collectively as "The Butcher" focuses their efforts on providing riffs on traditional home-recipies, made from the dismembered body parts from various alien species.  Everything from an jerky made from Gene Bound Ruoenf Guards to Maerynian fin soup is available within Mai Rou Zhe's pop-up shops, which travel throught the whole of mainland China.  For anyone who can pay The Butcher's exorbitant prices, Mai Rou Zhe claims phenomenal health and spiritual benefits willing to take his medication as prescribed.

The question, though, is *how* Mai Rou Zhe manages to acquire such esoteric components.  The answer, while relatively mundane, is no less horrifying.

Mai Rou Zhe has a number of contacts throughout Asia and Oceana which actively hunt down alien or other esoteric creatures.  Whenever they find such a creature--or sentient being, for that matter--they keep it on dry ice before delivering it to Mai Rou Zhe for butchery and preparation.  Within a matter of hours, Mai Rou Zhe has those creatures up for sale to any who might be in need of their special medicines.

The Chinese Peoples' Armed Forces have been on the hunt for Mai Rou Zhe for numerous years, though Mai Rou Zhe has managed to stay ahead of them at every turn.  Some have suggested that the Chinese PAF may be on the verge of reaching out to the superhuman community to help track down Mai Rou Zhe, though if past experience with China is any indication, it's not likely that the Chinese authorities will brook any outside interference, even if it does bring The Butcher to justice.

And I thought your October stuff was creepy. XD

Villain of the Day:  November 5 (ArtBomb)

Liverpool hosts the single-largest fireworks display in the United Kingdom.  Each Guy Fawkes Day, Merseyside alights with the sights of phenomenal pyrotechnics launched from a barge just off of the Royal Albert Dock.  The thunderous cavalcade is accompanied by pulse-pounding music and a carnivalesque atmostphere.  

This past year, Guy Fawkes Day brought a much more somber tone, as the terrorist called ArtBomb struck once more.

As the rockets detonated across the November sky, the Liverpool installation of the famous Tate Gallery exploded into so much shattered mortar and brick.  The ensuing fires and smoke damage left countless pieces of art and sculpture in shambles; art historians and appraisers have estimated that over $180 million in art was lost, including countless one-of-a-kind pieces from throughout British History.

However, at the Tate explosion, investigators noted something was awry.  Within the explosion, a single art piece could not be accounted for, either destroyed or intact.  That piece, a 400-year-old painting titled An Allegory of Man, managed to survive the Protestant Reformation, though its original artist was lost.  As investigators started delving deeper, however, they soon found that at each of the other ArtBomb attacks, a single piece of art--all by anonymous artists--could not be accounted for.  What ArtBomb does with this pieces, though, remains to be seen.  The art never seems to appear on the black market, nor does any known collector seem to have possession of the pieces.

In light of ArtBomb's attacks, security has been stepped up for the opening of the 'Ancient World' wing at the Wagner Museum of the Fine Arts in Megalopolis.  The new wing boasts over 800 unique pieces ranging from ancient Sumerian tablets to Etruscan statuary.  While the museum staff is determined to go ahead with the planned opening, trusting security to their own staff and the Megalopolis PD, it remains to be seen whether ArtBomb will make an incindiary opening.

Villain of the Day:  November 6 (The Chauffeur)

Getting from Point A to Point B is hard enough.  Getting from Point A to Point B while eluding the police, Interpol, GLOBAL, and any number of superheroes with a load of illicit cargo is another degree of difficulty altogether.

That is, unless you're riding with The Chauffeur.  Simply put, her skills behind the wheel are undeniable and she outright refuses to be caught.

None really know where she came from.  She speaks English with just the slightest slight accent, as if she had lived in Greece or somewhere in the Levant, but spent most of her time in an English-speaking country.  She has, on occasion, referenced spending some time on the racing circuit, but the nature of those races and where she might have raced still remains a mystery.  The Chauffeur prides herself on being tight-lipped and focused on the job at hand, rarely sparing time for small talk.

Boasting a stable of technologically-augmented cars, trucks, and other vehicles, The Chauffeur offers her services to criminal cabals in need of transportation.  Whether moving goods across borders, serving as a getaway driver, or any number of other roles, The Chauffeur provides her services at a premium price to whomever can afford her exorbitant fees. 

Those that do pay for her services, however?  They can't speak more highly of her.  The Chauffeur managed to outrun a convoy of fifteen Megalopolis SWAT cruisers, themselves backed up by three police helicopters and a full blockade along Interstate 14.  She managed to cross the full United States in 24 straight hours, ensuring that mob boss Enzo de la Porre was outside the country before he could be extradited.  SWAT drivers and field agents tell of her car dropping EMP grenades that shut off their engines, her tires sprouting spines that enabled her to drive up  vertical rises, and a hood-mounted ion cannon cable of taking out an armored military helicopter.

One clue, though, remains as to The Chauffer's true identity.  One of her most recent jobs, working for a think-tank group affiliated with TALOS, was apparently done 'gratis'.  The only payment The Chauffer asked for was the purchase of a vacant lot in eastern Colorado.  That lot is now registered to one Josephine Weekes, a woman who was rumored to have been killed during the Deadline event.  Josephine's father, Francis, was a noted racer on the French Grand Prix circuit...

Villain of the Day:  November 7 (Martin Chakin, and similarly situated persons)

Martin Chakin lost everything.  

His home was annihilated in the first attacks on Megalopolis during the OblivAeon event.  His wife and middle-school-aged son, Jason, were both inside as cosmic energy ripped their split-level from its foundations.  His daughter, a student at Overbrook University, was one of any number of students slain as scions rampaged through the streets of Rook City.  Their timeshare condo in San Alonzo?  Vaporized.  His workplace?  Demolished.  

All that Martin Chakin had left were the clothes on his back, the $15.75 left in his wallet, and his cat, Tibby, who somehow survived the destruction of their home, meowing plaintively as rescue crews tried to extract the bodies of Miranda and Jason.

The photo of Martin holding Tibby, sitting on the curb of a Megalopolis street, won photographer Salvador Eckert a Pulitzer Prize.  The headline in the Megalopolis Examiner in the days following the devastation--bold text hovering over Martin's head, reading "Now What?"--stands alongside some of the most recognizable, most historic newspaper headlines of all time.

Of course, Martin was not alone.  Few and far between are the people who could not claim at least one casualty within their family or friends during the whole OblivAeon affair.  However, Martin's accidental noteriety began a curious occurance.  Grief counseling groups, community shelters and support groups, and relief stations suddenly started to become hotbeds of rage, of frustration, and of wretched loss.

That's when Martin was approached by one Kristoph Adams, J.D., LLP.  A partner in the Adams, Brekker, and Coldwell law firm, Adams reached out to Martin at a Megalopolis-area shelter, eager to hear Martin's 'true story'.  It was there, over a cup of reheated coffee and military-issue MREs that the first seeds of Martin's suit was planted.

In May of the following year, Martin Chakin was in the headlines once more.  "OblivAeon Survivor Sues Supers" read the Examiner's top headline, with an image of a Martin with Kristoph Adams at their press conference on the steps of the US Circuit Courthouse.  Listed as primary plaintiff in the class-action lawsuit, Martin and his team of lawyers have effectively taken a three-pronged approach:  1) insinuating the the overall OblivAeon attacks were instigated due to the involvement of the Freedom Five and their allies; 2) establishing that the destruction of property and lives were caused by the negligence of said superheroes, and 3) establishing that no restitution has yet been made for those affected by said negligence.

As of this date, over 12,500 signatories have added their names to "Martin Chakin, et. al. vs. Sentinels of Freedom"  Adams and his law firm have expanded massively, bringing in some of the most notable, keenest minds within the legal field.  Investigations have been launched into approximately 3,000 of signatories' individual circumstances, all funded by a series of angel investors and 'donors', eager to see Martin's suit succeed.  Even the formidable Brianna Hawke, longtime lawyer to the Freedom Five, has noted that the situation seems to grow more dire by the day.

Villain of the Day:  November 8 (Gravedigger)

Rumor abounds surrounding the Gravedigger, with little verified.  But, rest assured that none rest easy when Gravedigger is involved.

A mysterious figure, Gravedigger is behind the kidnapping and premature burial of no less than eight known associates of various heroes.  The first known victim of Gravedigger was Jerry Carlson, the long-time neighbor of the Parsons family.  Jerry was rescued, luckily enough, by the Freedom Five, but he was found unconscious in a shallow grave, dug hastily in the Pleasant Rest Cemetary and Mausoleum.  Carlson claimed to have been confronted by a man dressed in the cassock and hood of a medieval monk, before being slammed in the head with a spade-shovel.  Carlson remembered nothing more of the incident or why he might have been targeted.

This pattern continued in the midwest, where Setback's sister, Sarah, was kidnapped under similar circumstances.  She, however, claimed that beneath the hood, the man was wearing a cowled mask, inlaid with a series of skulls.  It was Sarah that first coined the figure as Gravedigger.  Luckily for her, a pocket of air in the grave-earth above her allowed her to breathe just long enough for her brother and the rest of Dark Watch to extract her.

Other near-victims of Gravedigger have been Tyler Vance's sister, Randall Butler's mother, and Hugh Lowsley's cousin.  In all cases, Gravedigger specifically targets the family and friends of known heroes, attacking them from stealth, knocking them out, and attempting to bury them alive.  Only one fatality, however, has come from Gravedigger's attacks:  Gareth Huntley, the nephew of Paige Huntley.  While KNYFE was most distraught by this death, Gareth's assassination did reveal a single clue:  a hastily snapped cell-phone photo during the attack shows a distinctive metallic tattoo along Gravedigger's left arm.  Needless to say, KNYFE and her allies are eager to find this individual and bring him to justice.

Villain of the Day: November 9  (Sjambok)

Some villains are out for wealth.  Others, for glory or vengeance.  Still others for power or dominance. 

Sjambok is none of those.  Sjambok is after one thing and one thing only: a thrill. 

Born in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Sjambok takes her name from a traditional weapon still used by riot police in many African countries.  However, Sjambok is an expert warrior with all manner of whips, flails, and chains, eager to take on all comers.  While often acting as a mercenary for hire, Sjambok often aids other metahumans as a hired infiltrator and skirmisher capable of holding her own against even the most seasoned superhuman.

Lately, Sjambok has taken up with Riposte in forming something of a mercenary union.  Acting out of a one time Catholic school in Rook City, Sjambok and Riposte keep the peace in a common ground where Rook City's most nefarious can make trades, hire muscle, or negotiate contracts for assassinations, thefts and more.  None dare cross Sjambok as she keeps the peace; Heartbreaker did it once and still has the scar to prove it. 

Villain of the Day:  November 10 (Maneater)

Watch out boy, she'll chew you up...

Alexis Hall has always had strange tastes.  As a child, she was institutionalized by her parents after numerous self harm attempts.  However, as it came out during numerous counseling sessions, Alexis' modus operandi wasn't for harm itself, not for catharsis or the ability to feel, or for any number of reasons within the self-harm paradigm.

Rather, it was for the taste.  She wanted to taste blood. 

Alexis' sociopathic tendencies were believed to be under treatment for years, following a two year stint in Overbrook Sanitarium and a regular mental health medication regimen.  However, after her coworker, Jon Balsom, went missing, few could hardly believe the truth. Jon and Alexis had been flirty at work, but even their closest coworkers didn't realize that Jon had accepted a dinner date at Alexis' suburban home.  Jon himself didn't realize that he himself was in Alexis' dinner plans. 

Jon was only one of 5 known victims to be slaughtered by the Maneater, as Alexis was billed by the press.  But, within the three deep freezes in her basement, police found portions of no less than 12 separate bodies, all butchered impeccably and portioned for any number of meals. The bodies often bear few discerning wounds beyond Alexis' butchery; investigators surmise that she resorted to stealth or other subtle means to incapacitate her victims. 

At court, Alexis was deemed unfit to stand trial, and was remanded back to Overbrook for mandatory treatment.  But, with the carnage and cataclysm of recent events, Alexis has simply gone missing.  A manhunt ensues for the Maneater, in the hopes that she goes hungry before a return to treatment and rehabilitation. 

Villain of the Day:   November 11 (G. Perry Ellsworth)

The Megalopolis Examiner has always been a bastion of truth in investigated journalism.  Their editors-in-chief, dating back to the late-1800s, had set the proverbial bar for journalistic ethics and diligence.  So many corrupt trusts, organized crime rings, and politicians on the take were exposed through the Examiner's pages.  And, when he took the post of editor-in-chief, G. Perry Ellsworth swore that he would uphold the standards that his forebearers had set down before him.  And, in his twenty years behind the editor's desk, he broke story after story exposing governmental and corporate corruption at every level.

Now?  His sights are set clearly upon the Sentinels of Freedom.

Ellsworth received an anonymous tip through the Examiner's social media feed, claiming that the Sentinels of Freedom program was illegally holding untried, dangerous metahumans in a set of holding cells deep beneath Freedom Plaza.  While Ellsworth himself responded to the message, the account had already been deactivated, with the message unable to be sent.  Ellsworth, however, was not willing to let such a lead go unturned.  Choosing a handful of his most trustworthy investigative reporters, Ellsworth has begun assembling a lengthy case file regarding the construction of Freedom Plaza, the numerous metahumans faced down by the Sentinels of Freedom, and any inconsistencies or testimony from former Freedom Plaza employees.

Ellsworth's Sunday editorial this past week marked a sea change in the Megalopolis Examiner's treatment of the world's superhuman.  Often the first to celebrate the heroics of Legacy, the ingenuity of Tachyon, the resourcefulness of The Wraith, and all the rest.  His editorial headline, "Questioning our Heroes" was the buzz of Megalopolis for the full news cycle, with major cable news venues expounding upon Ellsworth's editorial, with talking heads debating Ellworth's points as if they were they were incontrivertible truth.

While Ellsworth has few true details, he does have a name: a young man named James Keller.  To date, the Sentinels of Freedom have refused to acknowledge any of Ellsworth's allegations and their press coordinator has not issued any statement regarding Ellsworth's editorial.  However, radio silence has not deterred the truth:  Ellsworth and his reporters continue their digging...

NPC of the Day:  November 12 (Martin Liebowicz)

Either Martin Liebowicz is either the luckiest man on Earth, or perhaps the man with the best timing to have ever have lived.  In either case, the universe may well have revolved around Martin.

When Baron Blade first menaced Megalopolis, Martin was there with his camera, providing the first pictures of Blade and his Battalions marching down Central Avenue.  When Grand Warlord Voss offered peace in exchange for the life of the inhuman Tempest, Martin was comfortably seated in an adjoining Dad's Cafe, enjoying a patty melt and skinny fries.  When Citizen Dawn and her legions held the mayor of Megalopolis hostage, Martin was stuck in traffic, just behind the armored cars filled with the ill-fated gold for the mayor's ransom.  In every case, Martin managed to make it through with the help of a hero's timely intervention:  Tachyon sweeping him up before Martin could be squashed by a walking tank, a well-timed ice wall from Absolute Zero to shield the adjacent buildings, and a quick extraction from Expatriette before the gold shipment was destroyed.

However, never let it be said that Martin was ungrateful.  No matter how many times he managed to be in life-threatening peril, no matter how many times death stared Martin in the face, he never blinked.  He knew that the heroes of the world were there for him, and for everyone.  And what's more, no matter how dire the circumstance, Martin was always there to offer a few words of inspiration and strength.  Tyler Vance still tells of the day he found Martin, trapped under his flipped car during a phenomenal windstorm caused by the Deadline event.  His Bunker suit shredded by flying debris and hailstones, Tyler felt broken and helpless as he tried to shield the two of them with the remains of his suit.  Martin laid a hand on Tyler's shoulder and told him, "You've always been a hero, Bunker.  Suit or no, you're as tough as nails and you're one of the best this world has to offer.  Let's get back out there and get the job done..."

When Martin was hospitalized three years ago with a degenerative heart condition, the Freedom Five and their allies were there in an instant, offering their condolences and any aid they could offer.  If nothing else, Martin was someone who had shared their stories and had become nothing short of family.

(All our best to the family of the father of our heroes, Stan Lee.  Valhalla awaits...)

Villain of the Day:  November 13 (Little Udon)

When most people think of powerful martial artists, they think of the reaping blows of kung fu, the slow meditative strikes of tai chi, or the sudden, brutal strikes of krav maga.  And, while few would deny that sumo are among the most powerful of athletes, only a scant handful would put choose a sumo wrestler as a champion over a mixed martial artist.  The hired goon known as Little Udon would prove them all wrong.

Born Jinmaku Tanogoro, Little Udon was a classically trained sujmo wrestler, who reached the jonokuchi status of wrestler at age 19.  He earned his nickname due to his voluminous size--even for a sumo, Tanogoro was massive, easily towering over both compatriot and competitor.  By 22, he was ranked as a maegashira, and by 24, he had risen to become an ozeki, second only to the champion yokozuna, and had won the Grand Honbasho at Osaka. As an ozeki, Udon received special commendation for his efforts in promoting the art of sumo.  

However, as his fame rose, so did the supposed needs of his lifestyle.  Tanogoro had begun to make friends in all manner of low places, especially amongst the yakuza.  While he stopped short of actively aiding the yakuza, Little Udon was sure to take every possible route to ensure his own winnings and that his opponents took the fall.  Sakai-san is allergic to a certain type of shellfish?  It just so happened that one or two slipped into the chanko for the group meal on the day of that sumo's match.

At first, these efforts went unnoticed; both Little Udon and his yakuza contacts profitted greatly from Tanogoro's actions and Little Udon rose through the ranks.  However, the owners of Tanogoro's favored gym were having none of this.  After logging a massive amount of Tanogoro's transgressions, they went before Japan Sumo Association and presented their findings.  Little Udon was stripped of his title, his honoraries, and a phenomenal amount of cash--he was shamed beyond shame...and now, he was angry.

Rather than putting him on the straight and narrow, Little Udon delved even deeper into his role as a yakuza underboss.  Both a physical threat and the possessor of a keen strategic mind, Little Udon began working his way east, overseeing operations from Polynesia all the way to the West Coast of the United States.  Even now, his contacts scour the ruins of San Alonzo for lost technologies, art objects, and other artifacts believed destroyed, only for them to reappear on the black market.  In recent months, this had led Tanogoro to spend more and more time in the United States, overseeing efforts and selling off his underlings' findings to the highest bidder.  And surely, there's no room for any in the ring but him.

Villain of the Day: November 14 (Tangle)

Most times, taking down a supervillain is the most difficult part of an investigation.  When dealing with Tangle, holding onto said supervillain is much more difficult than catching them in the first place.

Going by the name Reyn Magnimund, Tangle gained fame as a performer with the Cirque d'Lune on the Las Vegas strip.  Reyn's greatest talent was as a contortionist; they were able to bend with phenomenal flexibility, performing stunts that few normal humans could even conceive of.  Coupled with intensive training in gymnastics and acrobatics, Reyn became the toast of the strip, eventually performing on their own with a number of Las Vegas' most glittering headliners.

But, as it often turns out, a taste of fame was simply not enough for Reyn.  Time in Cirque d'Lune was traded for duo acts.  Duo acts were scrapped in favor of a solo feature program.  And when Reyn couldn't fill the seats, they started turning to high-risk televised stunt events, such as leaping off of buildings while straightjacketed or escaping manacles while in a descending car crusher.  But, even these were not enough.  Reyn wanted more.

And, of course, that's when Tangle first emerged.  Completing daring heist after daring heist, Tangle targeted the highest profile items on display from museums, art galleries, and private collections.  Tangle actively targeted the most populous, most notorious areas, specifically so that they could show off their talents in new and unique ways.  While captured no less than 15 times, Tangle eluded police, SWAT agents, FBI and GLOBAL operatives, and any number of superhuman heroes.  No manner of handcuffs seem to hold them, no manner of manacles seem to keep Tangle in custody.  Within mere seconds, Tangle manages to elude their bonds and escape within mere seconds of their capture.

Strangely enough, Tangle rarely ever takes any of the items they steal.  Most times, the object of Tangle's heists are found blocks away, often in the hands of a bewildered bystander, eager to hand the item off to the proper authorities.  For Tangle, it's all about the exposure and the thrill of the stunt.  

Villain of the Day:  November 15 (Peeping Tom)

Villains always seem to show up at the worst possible times.  Celebrations, weddings, funerals, personal events--it always seems like someone's nemesis manages to show up just in time to cause a ruckus.  How they manage to do this, of course, has always been up for debate.  The answer, though, seems to revolve around a fellow named Thomas Nagy.  Or, as he's known within more nefarious circles, Peeping Tom.

A private investigator with a penchant for his non-descript looks and attitude, Tom Nagy started his career for none other than Revocorp, as the corporation's underbelly attempted to locate the missing asset known as Setback.  Tom trailed Pete Riske for over three weeks, learning his routines inside and out, learning about his relationship with the gun-toting vigilante Expatriette and his affiliations with several other heroes, all the way down to his favorite pizza toppings (pepperoni and black olives with extra cheese on thin crust, though he also likes the Supremo from Genoveses' Chicago-Style).  It was through Tom's thorough reporting that Revenant and several other Revocorp-affiliated villains managed to corner Setback and Expatriette, nearly capturing the duo and severely injuring the hapless hero.  Only through the barest of chances did the pair manage to escape the ambush alive.