Tag: male

Day 9: Gabe Aldren (awkward patron)

| November 10, 2013 | 0 Comments



We’ve all seen this guy… he’s that guy at the new coffee shop who has to tell you why he’s awkward because he’s used to how it was when the old management ran things… and then wanders half in your way and has a comment for every time you walk by… cuz you know… he… knows things.

#10- Jhet

| November 10, 2012 | 0 Comments


Day 23 Einstein Burroughs

| November 30, 2011 | 0 Comments

Ordinary Spider-monkey turned genius via an IQ boosting helmet. Having been irresponsibly experimented on by humans, Einstein builds an army of Monkey-bots to liberate his kind.

Day 17 Mustachio Mafioso

| November 23, 2011 | 0 Comments

Mustache is a made man…

#17 – Doc Sage

| November 21, 2011 | 0 Comments

It was 1925, and science had done all it could for Doctor Leonard Sage Jr..


Having grown up as the only son of famous scientist Leonard Sage, science had been the only true friend and family that he’d ever known. Science comforted him for every moment of affection his father refused him. It motivated him for every nod of disapproval and every sigh of impatience. Science even had to make due when his mother finally left her father, running away with the family bodyguard, never to be seen again. So, for Leonard, finding out that he was dying of a very aggressive case of cancer at the age of 21 and that there was nothing science could do about it was probably the biggest moment of betrayal of his life.


Initially, Leonard refused to give up and started researching his disease, confident that science would find a way. After three years of constant study, cooperation and experimentation that resulted in nothing, Leonard even went as far as going to his father for help. But his father just gave him the same response science had already given him: There was nothing to do.

He was a walking dead.


For the next year, Leonard lost himself at the bottom of a bottle, trying to fill the void of science with liquor and women.

But nothing could take away the fear and the anxiety. Nor his ever-growing desire to live.

By this point, he was desperate and willing to try anything and look everywhere for a cure. It was in this crucial stage in his life that Leonard realized that now that he was no longer shackled by the cold logical methods of science, a whole new world of possibilities and opportunities was open to him.


Leonard travelled around the globe, meeting all sorts of people and visiting all sorts of places that science had once thought him were nothing more than charlatans and hoaxes, but now willing to believe, death having lifted the veil that covered his eyes all these time. For three more years he travelled and studied, learning magic and mysticism from all schools and strains. From ancient Roman auramancy to Haitian voodoo, and from medieval alchemy to Nordic rune incantations, anything that could offer him a cure or even the chance to continue living.


His journey came to an end at the top of the lost mountain, Solomon’s Peak, in the Himalayas. There, he took everything he had learned so far and using his own experimental methods, fused his magic expertise into a single binding spell that would keep the tumors in his body dormant, allowing him to continue living while he still searching for a cure.


With a new lease on life and a new World view, Leonard triumphantly returned to L.A. in 1932, boldly declaring his victory over cancer and announcing he would make his mission in life to once again introduce the study of magic within modern society, claiming science had narrowed our view of the World and denying us of thousands of possible advancements in various fields. However, the media took his declarations and made him look like a mad man, discrediting his efforts under the orders of Sage Sr., who would go on to become his son’s biggest detractor and critic.

In order to achieve his dreams, Leonard founded Sage Solutions, a company dedicated to use both magic and technology for the betterment of mankind, as well as finding ways for both to help each other progress and evolve.

With the assistance of Pamba Yan, the keeper of Solomon’s Peak who agreed to return with Leonard to the modern world and continue instructing him in the ways of magic, Professor Arthur Snark, Leonard’s old tutor and closest friend, and Silvia Munroe, his personal assistant and business manager, Leonard, who would be come to be known as “Doc Sage” would go on to defend Los Angeles from all sorts of threats, both magical and scientific, in the name of mankind’s betterment through knowledge and clarity.

#14 – Jumping Jack

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

Jackie Caulder has been a hero since he was 15.

And that was about 40 years ago!

Let’s rewind and try to start from the beginning.

It was the 70’s. Free Love Syndrome had pretty much come and gone and had been quickly replaced by the Disco Fever. Jackie, barely 14 then, was already a big shot at school, as he was being heralded as the most promising quarterback his coach had ever seen. His parents, both blue collar workers who could barely make ends meet every month, were already counting with the countless athletic scholarships that would surely come their son’s way once high school was over. All Jackie knew was that this meant a free ride all through middle school and high school, respect and admiration from his peers, getting to third base by the second date with every single cheerleader he asked for a date, and the guarantee that he would never get a “No” regardless of who he asked.

This all came to a screeching halt during a school trip to the Wagner Institute of Particle Research, were a good humored prank from Jackie caused half of the research equipment to explode, bathing him in all sorts of radiation. He woke up six months later in a hospital bed, feeling weaker than he’d ever felt. He had gone from being a well toned kid to a scrawny, sickly shelf of his former self. He was informed that all the radiation had caused damage to his muscles and organs and that he would need from several years of physical rehabilitation to regain his physical condition. And just like that, Jackie Caulder’s future had been completely derailed.

The Wagner Institute agreed to pay for his hospital bills, but there was still the money for the physical therapy, which Jackie’s parents simply did not have. They attempted to sue the Institute and the school, but only ended up with even more bills to pay and, in the end, he was never able to go to any therapy sessions and just had to adjust to his new life as a weakling. This, however, turned out to be a turning point in Jackie’s life. It was after returning to school in his new condition that he realized that for most of his life he had been a complete bully and a jerk to everyone he’d ever met. He had harassed and taunted his teachers, shielding himself under the coach and his value as a football star. He had bullied many of his classmates, using his strength and the support of his teammates. He had even forced some of the girls he’d gone out with into dating him in the first place, only to treat them like trash after the fact. It was no surprise no one was sparing him any sympathy now that he was the one going through a rough time. By the time he got his head around how much of an asshole he had been, he was actually surprised he wasn’t getting more beatings than he was already getting every day.

It was this realization, coupled with remembering that it was his macho posing while bullying one of his classmates that caused the accident at the Wagner Institute, that made Jackie realize he needed to change and become a better person. Not for the sake of others, since his entire school hated him, but for himself. It was around this time that the true effects of all the radiation his body absorbed manifested itself. Somehow, it had altered his molecular structure, giving him the ability to teleport. He knew this could not all be a coincidence. This long and complicated chain of events had somehow been pre-ordained. Everything that had happened, he somehow knew, was meant to put him on this path. To teach him the humility necessary to take this gift he’d received and not abuse it, but instead help people through it.

Jackie knew from the first moment this wouldn’t be a walk in the park. He would not only have to learn how to properly use his powers, but he would also need to regain the physical condition he’d lost during the accident. The latter part he managed with the help of Ol’ Moxy Lincoln. Moxy owned the local gym and had been a boxer during his youth. When the kid came asking to join in and willing to clean and help in the gym in order to pay for his membership, he recognized something in him. He’d worked with tons of kids off the streets, trying to help them get a second chance in life, teaching them discipline through boxing. The thing they and Jackie shared was they were all looking for the same thing: Redemption. He worked day and night, leaving his sweat and blood in that gym. His old body was gone, so he had to learn to work with his new body, its strengths and limitations.

Whatever spare time he had, he used to hone his teleportation skills. He could only teleport as far as he could see, and the farthest he teleported the more it took a physical toll on him. This was also the same with whatever object he wanted to teleport along with him. The bigger the object, the more energy and concentration it took. With time and practice, it became easier, but teleporting in general was still a tiring exercise. So in order to more effectively used it, he learnt to do short and quick bursts of teleporting, or “jumps” as he called them, designed to make the best of his stamina as well as to confuse his enemies and make the best of his newfound fighting skills too.

The early years were definitely the worst years. Half the time, he didn’t know what he was doing. He kept screwing up, kept getting beaten by common thugs and thieves. But he started getting the hang of it. By the time he graduated high school, he’d managed to make a mark in his neighborhood and keeping it clean from crime, as well as winning a full academic scholarship for State University. He managed to graduate from college, start a career and maintain a couple of fleeting relationships even while expanding his territory and coming to the attention of various super criminals who would become fixtures in Jackie’s life.

Guys like Nightmare, Boss Blind Tiger, Fear & Loathing, Azucena, El Furioso and even more modern additions like Grill-Face, the Beaver, Dreaded Ninja

Now in his sixties, Jackie still does what he does best: Helping people. He’s a married man with two daughters: A little girl and a teenager. His family is fully aware of his life as a hero and accepts it as part of who he is. He’s even become a legend within the super hero community and a role model for all aspiring heroes.

Jackie Caulder has come a long way since his time as a jock and a bully. He’s done much to atone for it, yet after almost 40 years of putting his life in the line for others, he still feels he hasn’t done enough yet. And even though his joints ache and he should sleep more and his bell is starting to stick out of his costume, there is still much to do out there.

So Jack will keep jumping as long as Jack can jump.

#13 – Kid Emo

| November 14, 2011 | 0 Comments

Julius Blackwell is the second known case of immortality on a human being.

Figures. Even on that, he couldn’t make first.

Julius was made clearly aware of this when he jumped off a 20 story building on his 18th birthday, a “Good bye, cruel world” note on a pink post-it plastered on his less hated Weepy Willow t-shirt. He was tired of all the shuffling his mortal coil had done so far.

His coil, turns out, wasn’t all that mortal to begin with.

Julius’ immortality is manifested on several ways:

One is his impregnable skin, which can’t be cut, burnt, penetrated or harmed in any way, as it absorbs all impact and evenly distributes the kinetic energy on to every skin cell, rapidly metabolizing it. This is what allowed him to survive the fall from the building.

Didn’t do much for the poor guy he fell on top of, though.

Second, we have the fact that, due to the way his body metabolizes energy, Julius no longer needs to sleep or eat. He no longer even needs oxygen, which he discovered after a consecutive 27 hours of being submerged in his bathroom tub, trying to drown himself. He would have lasted longer, but he then threw his pink iPod Nano into the tub to try and electrocute himself, only to have both the device and the mood in the room ruined


And finally, there’s the fact that whatever Julius does ingest is super-metabolized in the same way the kinetic energy he gets from impacts, or even simple solar radiation or heat from an open flame (like the one he put his head into during his therapy group camping trip) does, which is a sort of organic cold fusion. So every substance that enters his body is completely reduced to its basic components in a manner of seconds. So, for Julius’ body, there is no difference between drinking a glass of water or, say, a gallon of drain cleaner.

Except, unfortunately, for the taste.

What started as a misguided and very complicated journey to express his inner suffering and tortured soul had become a source of endless frustration to young Julius, now in his early 20’s. Any passerby would think that Julius would be OK with all the frustration, as he is keen on looking for new and fascinating ways to get depressed about stuff, yet he’ll always answer that he doesn’t like wasting a good sulk on non-sulk-worthy things.

When inquired on what exactly can be considered sulk-worthy or not, Julius will always comment that “you don’t understand my pain” and run to his room to have a good cry and try to cut his wrists. Then he’ll remember he can’t and will have a bad cry. Then he’ll go out there looking for something that can undo him as he so wishes to be undone.

Julius is not only a well known figure in psychiatric circles, having gone already through 32 different therapists, most of which have ended up killing themselves which only adds to Julius many frustrations, but is also a known fixture of the super-human community.

Especially of super villains.

He came in contact with his first super villain while at the mall, looking for a new leather wristband to go with his dark blue eye shadow.

The store was suddenly assaulted by the Stink Bug, a Z-List baddy known for excreting a highly corrosive and toxic acid on his unsuspecting victims. After taking all the money, Stink Bug in a sudden outburst of brutality, decided to kill all his hostages, spraying them with his acidic bulge gland. This did not work on our Julius though, and so the Bug kept spraying him, insisting it would have to work eventually.

Four hours later, and after lengthy and difficult talks with various hostage negotiators and even an FBI specialist, Julius finally let the Bug go. His bulge gland completely deflated, his eyes staring an empty stare into nothingness, he just kept repeating over and over that he “felt dirty”.

Even today, in his padded room on the Happy Cheeks Home for the Clinically Insane, “I feel dirty” is the only phrase he’ll say. Over and over.

Sometimes, he’ll shout it.

After that, Julius kept insisting and has tried climbing up the criminal ladder and confront bigger, meaner and more dangerous criminals to the point where many of the A-Listers of the super villain community have gotten restraining orders against “Julius Blackwell, a.k.a That Emo Kid”, which was then twisted into “Kid Emo” once the legal document were leaked by the National Enquirer.

And though he may not look it, Julius has proven to be a very successful crime-fighter, having single-handedly wiped out the Z, Y, X, W and V lists of super villains through his incredible powers of immortality and bumming the fuck out of everyone he meets.

He’s not the hero we want, nor the hero we need.

But he is kinda there…

He’s Kid Emo, and he wishes he was dead.

#12 – The Hood

| November 14, 2011 | 0 Comments

Adolescence sucks.

Anyone who is either going through it or is already, thankfully, done with it can confirm this for you if for some reason you weren’t aware of this.

Your body changes and contorts in ways that make you feel like you’re wearing someone else’s skin. Everything you know about the World becomes either a lie or a joke as authority loses complete grasp of you and your basic instinct becomes lashing out at everything and everyone.

And nothing proves the real seriousness of everything that we go through than the fact that many people don’t even manage to survive their adolescent years. They either give up, becoming completely stagnant, never making into adulthood or they are so irreparably damaged by the experience that it’s like their old self died and from it someone completely new was born.

And then there are those that do literally die.

Adolescence sucks.

And this only worth repeating because, for the most part, Graham Ellis could not give a fuck about adolescence. He is way too worried about everything else going on in his life right now to ever acknowledge the million existential crises, social rituals and high school drama he’s got in the back burner right now.

So, if we take into account everything we’ve previously discussed about adolescence so far, the only logical assumption is that Graham Ellis must be deep into some serious shit.

Graham is barely 15 and lives in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska. He lives with his mother ever since the divorce but he sees his father almost every day on account of his being a teacher at his school.

He’s not “cool” enough or whatever to ever be acknowledged by his school’s it crowd, yet he’s safely above band geek/math freak level. Some girls even find him “cute” or whatever. He’s not an honor student but his grades are nothing to be ashamed of either and he used to have no real prospects about his future or what he wanted to do with his life.

This all very rapidly changed on his first day of school, when Graham accidentally got caught in the way of an oncoming train and got himself run over. Miraculously enough thought, at the moment of impact, Graham was somehow able to derail the train with his bare hands. He got both arms pulverized in the process, but it saved his life. It also got about fifteen people killed in the process. He also managed to save around fifty people too. This with the help of the arms that healed themselves minutes after being turned to mush.

In just those fast and brutal fifteen minutes, Graham Ellis became many things.

A hero. A killer. A menace. A freak.

But it all boiled down to two things: He was now a super-human and a wanted man. The statements from the crash survivors managed to slowly climb all the way through the bureaucratic ladder until they reached the desk of the offices of P.E.A.C.E.’s homeland security division director, Victor Grieco. Upon hearing the news Grieco became obsessed with this new super-human popping out. He has taken a team of P.E.A.C.E. analysts and operatives and is searching day and night for this “kid in the hoodie”, every new sighting putting him a step closer from catching poor Graham, who is yet to be even aware of his presence.

No, Graham already has enough dealing with his guilt over the deaths he caused when he first manifested his powers, the fact that the entire county has an APB on him, that his mother, his father, his friends and neighbors all talk about him as if he was a monster and a danger to his face, without any care of how confused he is. And most of all, Graham is now deeply afraid of himself. Afraid of what his body can do. He knows he’s strong. He knows he can heal really fast. But, what else can he do? How does he do it? Is it something hereditary or just happenstance? Are his parents hiding something from him?

The more Graham Ellis thinks about all this things, the more he simply looks for ways to just lose himself, get away from his head, and forget the life he is living even for a moment.

Because adolescence may suck, but being an out of control super-human is even worst.

Here’s hoping poor Graham can make it out of this alive.

#6 – Mouse

| November 6, 2011 | 1 Comment

To whomever it may concern.

I, Charlie B. Goode, in full use of all my physical and mental abilities hereby declare this my Last Will and Testament.

I, unfortunately, have nothing in my possession worth inheriting to anyone.

And even if I did, I have no family to whom to inherit it anyways.

All I had in the world was my uncle Linus. He cared for me and raised me until his sudden and unexpected death at the age of 97.

It is in his memory that I became a nurse and care for those afflicted by all sorts of mental illness.

Also, I had no money for medical school.

It may not have been the most glamorous of works, but I quite liked it and made me feel like I was doing something important with my life.

That all changed the day I met Edmund Montagu. He had been a guest of the Happy Cheeks Home for the Clinically Insane ever since I got there. He’d never given us any trouble, hadn’t even spoken in all those years. He just used to seat on his wheel chair and read comics all day long.

And one day, out of nowhere, he just got off his chair, started screaming he was a cat, took me hostage and jumped from our third floor window.

I was very lucky that Mr. Montagu had bullet-proof skin and unbreakable bones, or else we would have both died that day.

I was not so lucky in that, when I regained consciousness I was in some abandoned sewer, dressed in a mouse costume and tied to a chair. Mr. Montagu had decided that I would become his sidekick in his new endeavor as a crime fighter.

And that’s been my life ever since.

I’m just a 24 year old nurse. Never even kissed a girl. Now I find myself everyday thrown into the most absurdly dangerous situations because of Mr. Montagu’s insane crusade. I mean, his hearth is in the right place and he kinda, sorta does have what it takes to make it in this business. But he’s a seriously sick person and he needs help, before he hurts someone.

Especially before he hurts me.

I’ll do as I swore to do the day I graduated from nursing school: I will care for my patients. I won’t abandon Mr. Montagu. Not until I finally convince him to go back to the clinic and get help.

But in the mean time, just in case…


#5 – Cat

| November 6, 2011 | 0 Comments

This World is a filthy, dangerous place.

Evil clutters the drains of our society, making it drown in misery and corruption.

The throat of truth and righteousness is further and further choked by the hairy hands of crime and villainy.

But evil-doers, wrong-doers and other kinds of doers associated with the previous two… BEWARE!!

For I will be society’s avenging plumber, mooning you with my half-shown cheeks of justice!

I will be peppermint flavored cough drop of hope that will sooth your aching throat after I kick those hairy villain’s hand right in his foul butt!


I borrow it because saying I own it is the kind of thing that egomaniacal super-villain types say. I must remain forever humble and servile to avoid that my super-powers corrupt me and turn me to the side of the devils.

Also, the night truly belongs to the law-abiding citizens of my beautiful hometown, which I’ve made a sacred, double secret pinky swear to protect.

So, once again for the cheap seats: EVIL BEWARE! Because there’s a new cat in town and not only is he hip to your tricks, but he’s also not had his claws clipped in a very, very long time. Kitty can scratch, baby.


And using said claws, plus my other awesome powers, my super scary Charles Bronson from “Death Wish” impersonation, a belt full of pouches, which are then filled with tiny, itsy-bitsy crime-fighting gadgets and my own fearless protégé, the valiant Mouse, I will bring an end to all sorts of crime and villainy.

I will punish the wicked, right wrongs, save damsels in distress, help old ladies cross the street, shake hands, kiss babies and all other duties that this life of super heroism and self sacrifice I’ve pledged myself to demand.

And, in conclusion my superstitious and cowardly lot, you should very much fear me the next time you see me.


Day 4 Enumclaw

| November 5, 2011 | 0 Comments

Where he is life, I am Death.
Where he is their savior, I will enslave them.
Where he is Lightning, I am Thunder.

#4 – Reaver

| November 5, 2011 | 0 Comments

Byron Snow was not happy.

He was far from it, actually.

You would think that someone who spends his life sleeping, partying and indulging in any excess his mind could think of in equal ways, a man who would never have to worry about money for as long as he lived, would not have to deal with such things as unhappiness.

Yet he did.

He did because the reason for his unhappiness relentlessly followed him wherever he went. It stared at him at any club he went. It brought him his supper, he could see them even from his penthouse apartment, far above the city, aimlessly loitering like the mindless cattle they all were.

Humans were his problem.

Humans were the reason of his unhappiness.

300 years ago, back when he was “born” into his new life, he and his kind would have no issue with rampaging through villages burning everything in sight, openly feeding under the moonlight, enjoying from the warm sustenance as well as from the fear saturating the atmosphere. But those halcyon days were long gone. Quietly bowing their heads and blending in with the meat was now the name of the game. Both The Council and The Covenant had agreed to this. In this new era of enlightenment and widespread information, acting in such an open manner would only invite more attention than the one they already got from The Huntsmen, and that was more than enough attention already.

So they blended in.

Most of them finally made use of their vast fortunes, amassed through centuries of never needing a single dime, spending it in every possible thing they could conceive off in order to chase boredom and hunger away.

Reaving was unanimously outlawed by The Council, the decision enforced by The Covenant. Anyone found reaving, no matter how careful or privately they did so, would be executed on the spot. No exceptions.

And so, Byron Snow hid. And lived. And was unhappy.

He was unhappy while a once proud and mighty race cowered under the numerical superiority of the meat. While their legend was forgotten, the terror they once instilled in the hearts of men and children alike lost to the passage of time. He saw as the meat made fools out of them, turning them into parodies of their former selves, little more than fodder for the romantic delusions of teen-aged girls, spinsters and unsatisfied housewives.

And the worst part was that every day, every month, every year he kept on feeding but not nurturing himself, he cared a little less about all of those things that should have continued to fuel his righteous indignation. He was growing fat and complacent.

He had to do something about it.

The first night he went out there was yet to be a costume. He had honestly convinced himself it would be a one time thing. Something to sate his thirst and be done with it. He knew it had to be someone who wouldn’t be missed. Someone you’d already expect to found splattered across the walls and floor of a dirty alley. When he heard the woman scream, he knew that was it. Even as weakened as it was, his body did most of the work for him without his even realizing.

The woman in itself was of little interest. Who cared what had happened to her? She was nothing but an enabler. By being the victim, she allowed him to come at him in any way he damn pleased. He was the real star of the show.

His original thought had been to just take things slow and enjoy it as much as possible in order to get the most out of it, considering this was gonna be a one-time thing. Even when the first warm jet started gushing, he innocently still believed this. But it had been so long since he had last reaved. The sensation, the rush, the excitement, the frenzy.

It completely took over him. How could they have stopped doing this?

How could they keep denying themselves something that was so unequivocally theirs?

It was wrong in so many fundamental levels. He knew it all the way inside of him, as he felt his body getting stronger, already demanding more sustenance.

He would need to disguise himself. No need to attract the attention of The Covenant. And already the humans had this long standing tradition of dressing in gaudy outfits and beating the living hell out of each other. And certainly no one would miss a few dead robbers or rapists. Nor the police would dig to deep when they found their broken, maimed and dry remains. They simply had it coming.

Byron Snow smiled.

He was happy for the first time in a long time. Happy that he had finally found a way of being himself once again out in the open, were his kind truly belonged.

Out there in the night.





Day 3 The American

| November 4, 2011 | 0 Comments

Kapoonis and Enumclaw were brothers that wreaked havoc in the heavens. Old Father captured the boys and made them the spirits of Thunder and Lightning.

An era later Kapoonis fell to earth and became the protector of Northwestern American Indians. In the modern age Kapoonis, or The American is the most powerful being on the planet.

#3 – Santamaría

| November 3, 2011 | 0 Comments

The small isle of Punta Blanca is a republic located about a thousand miles from continental Central America. It is nation with a rich history and culture that almost 99.99% of people who don’t live on Punta Blanca know nothing about.

No, unfortunately the best known fact about the small island is its infamous nickname: “Paraiso de Guerrillas”.

Guerrilla Paradise.

The name comes from the later days of the Cold War, where Punta Blanca became a focal point for the struggle between the CIA and the KGB, both organizations desperately trying to ally themselves with the local government and militia before the other could. This was mostly due to both strategic geographical advantage and the vastness of it’s natural resources. Since Punta Blanca was not fully colonized until the late 19th century, this meant that it’s mineral riches had gone pretty much untouched throughout the entire Spanish occupation, making it the richest so called third world country in the world.

However, Punta Blanca, and specially Punta Blanca’s president at the time, José Higuerón Padre, wanted nothing to do with either country and their petty struggles. Being a predominantly self-sufficient country with a ridiculously low importing rate there was nothing that either side could offer that would truly win them over. This was the point that negotiations turned sour. It’s rather unclear who took the initiative, whether the Yankees or the Russians, but either of them decided that if they could not have Punta Blanca, then no one would have it. The other side simply played along.

The island became the site of a bloody conflict between communist and capitalist “factions”, nothing more than actual american and soviet soldiers masquerading as local militias, which both Washington and the Kremlin used as excuses to pump even more armed forces into the area. The conflict lasted almost two years and caused enormous damage to both the country and its people. Many lost their lives due to this pointless struggle. Something would have to be done.

In April of 1974, president Higuerón passed a constitutional decree which was unanimously approved by the country’s senate, which officially instated the first ever Punta Blanca National Army. A staggering 75% of the male population of the country was immediately drafted and trained. Yet Higuerón and his people knew this wouldn’t be enough to free his country from the Cold War’s phantom.

Article Zero of the National Army Proclamation Act also officially instated “Project: Torch”, the first ever official super-soldier program since “Operation: Rule Britannia” in World War I.

But just like Rule Birtannia before it, the majority of Punta Blanca’s soldiers proved immune to the multiple chemical treatments employed by Project: Torch, with most soldiers only gaining minor muscular and reflex enhancements from the procedure.

However, through something scientist call a genetical probability of one in a million, a young soldier names John Duarte, the first ever successfully produced super-soldier in the world. The process provided Duarte with super strength, super speed, maximized reflexes, peak hand-to-eye coordination, and improvements to everyone of his senses. This coupled with extensive training from multiple mercenary organizations contracted by the Punta Blanca government for the purpose of both training and adding to the ranks of their army turned him into his countries top operative.

His codename comes from the local legends of the early settlers about a missionary who lived in the deep jungles of the island after fleeing the slaughter of his flock by the indians by throwing himself to the ocean and swimming for days. John Duarte gave way to Santamaría.

Almost 40 years later, Punta Blanca remains an autonomous nation, even more distrusting of other nations than before. Their army continues to grow and evolve, being now considered the top military power in all the world. Which mostly has to due with the man in the top chair of that army. Even in his late 60’s, Santamaría continues to be both an imposing presence and a skilled combatant. The process that gave him his power has somehow also allowed him to retain his mental and physical prowess even at such and advanced age.

His eyes remain forever vigilant on each and every border of his small nation, a grin on his lips and a glint on his eye, waiting for the next fool stupid enough to dare threaten
 his beloved country.

#2 – Alwin Pemberton, the Bright Knight

| November 3, 2011 | 0 Comments

They were truly the Dark Ages…

For the previous four centuries, the Roman Empire fought with all it’s might against the invading forces from beyond the skies.

Even with their glimmering flying machines, their impervious suits of armor, their divine strength and wisdom and their abundant knowledge of the mystic arts, it had taken them that long to truly crush the Last Legion’s mighty spirit.

But, alas, Rome did fall and burn, and the age of the God Conquerors thus began: With them and their progeny as the new lords and ladies ruling over the land, and the mere mortal men their slaves and workforce.

Some accepted the inevitability of their fate, as it was the place of mortals to serve and worship the gods. Yet others rebeled.

Brave men continued to fought against the invading hordes, knowing full well their numerous advantages against the mere steel of their swords.

Wise men studied day and night to master the god’s secrets, using their own magics against them, even at the cost of their minds and bodies.

And beyond them all was a man both wise and brave. A man who was able to bring hope and unity throughout the land, taking their rebel forces and turning them into an actual army. Many saw him as a messiah. The once and future king returning to his throne to deliver us from evil and slavery.

Sadly, Alwin Pemberton was not this man.

In fact, Alwin Pemberton was not even born when the brave prophesied king and his armies fell under the Conquering God’s war machines in their glorious last stand. And though the invaders suffered greatly, they were still able to recover.

Yet Alwin Pemberton would have to do.

Those at least were the last thoughts of a dying Myrddin Wyllt, the legendary king’s military advisor and chief sorcerer, whom Alwin stumbled into one stormy night while looking for cover under a dead three through an act of sheer happenstance.

Except the old wizard did not believe in such things as luck or coincidences.

For the last 14 years, Myrddin had been both thinkering and guarding the late king’s best guarded secret: A suit of armor made entirely with metals and magic from the God Conqueror’s arsenals. It had been forged more than a thousand times by expert blacksmiths who covered it in protective runes and charms from their frozen homelands. Myrddin had conjured for it two giant metal wings, made with the same mystic cauldrons the gods used to propel their vessels through the clouds.

And finally, there was the sword: The Grass Blade, so called for the green hue with which it’s otherworldly steel shined. The blade had been forged through a ritual known only to the mage himself who had even gone so far as to temper the rare metal with his own hands. It was capable of cutting through anything and anyone, deflecting all attacks no matter their nature and was even supposed to be able to summon the winds and the lighting to smite down it’s enemies.

All of this power was now on young Alwin’s hands. It would be his life’s mission from now on to continue with Myrddin and the King’s crusade. To learn the secrets of the armor and become the hero his people so desperately needed. He would need to use the armor to bring hope and strength to the masses, to embolden them into once again unite against the God Conquerors.

And so begins the legend of the man who united the whole world in it’s darkest moment against the first alien invasion never known by mankind. This is the story of King Alwin Pemberton, The Bright Knight.