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Mutants & Masterminds: Future Imperfect - Character Profiles M&M


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Please post here everything that is known about your PCs. I appreciate pictures that give a good impression of what the PC looks like. I don't care if it is a drawing in comic-book-style or an actual photograph. Any changes during the game should be updated here.

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Name:Travis Kincaid

Age: 29

Registration Status: Registered as a Class III flyer.


Travis Kincaid is a mask, a veneer that hides the truth of the man. Travis is unable to recall further than three months ago. He awoke in a homeless shelter in Las Vegas wearing clothing that was little more than rags. The only things in his pockets were a handful of grimy dollar bills and a rumpled driver’s license.

After a month of wandering the city and following the trail started buy his ID Travis was soon confronted with the ineffable fact that he did not really exist. The more he dug the more evidence he found that proved that Travis Kincaid was created by somebody as an elaborate fraud. All he could be certain of was that he was an unregistered mutant with telekinetic power who had been furnished with an excellent false identity. Not much later Travis would find himself meeting his first concrete link to his past, a woman who claims she worked with him and that she thought he was dead. Ronnie filled Travis in with as much as she could provide but still the truth behind his real identity and the source of his memory loss eludes him.


Travis is obsessed with uncovering his past, specifically with finding out what happened to him after the last time Ronnie saw him during the mission in Germany, and recovering his memory of his real life, the one that Travis Kincaid was created to hide. A man without a past he feels disconnected at times even from himself often pondering the significance of the various objects within his home.

In combat he'll make an initial assessment as to his personal threat level before engaging the enemy. So long as there are no blasters/projectors he'll often move forward into the fight relying on his natural kinetic resistance to protect him. He favors aggressive tactics designed to shut down the opposing heavies, allowing his teammates to clean up the less threatening enemies.

Physical Description:

Medium tall with blonde hair & blue eyes. Travis is not a big man owing to the fact that he seldom needs to exert any great power with his physical muscles and hasn't since he was a child. He dresses as he did before his memory loss having traced his own identity back to a Vegas condo he apparently owns and the well stocked closets within. When working out he'll wear t-shirts and shorts or sweats but the rest of the time he wears professional casual attire, slacks, button down shirts, sport jackets. When asked who did his shopping he confesses that he's really not sure as he just wears what is in his closet. Travis drives, when he drives at all instead of simply using his powers to fly, a bright red Porsche Carrera that he found parked in his condo's spot.


Canon Fictions:

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9F3F34A3-D88D-59DA-7E8363A80D2060E8.jpg Name: Major-General Kevin Bridges, ret.

Sex: Male

Age: Exact age unknown - appears roughly mid fifties

Occupation: Wandering Doctor (Retired Royal Army Medical Corps Surgeon-General)

Height: 6'0"

Weight: 170 (naturally toned)

Hair: Salt & Pepper

Skin: Caucasian (weathered and leathery)

Eyes: Blue

Known History:

His Military records have been sealed, completely, to the point of appearing to no longer exist. In fact, it is unknown if any offical record linking this man to anybody who served in the British Army exists.

His standard attire, regardless of the weather, season or continent is a long, light brown, 1940's era trenchcoat, olive green cargo/military style pants, various solid color sweaters and t-shirts and black boots. He also always seems to carry an old, WWII era, army surplus, tan backpack as well as medical bag.

He has been seen, 'backpacking', all over the world. Europe, Africa, the Americas and Russia (and formerly the Soviet Union) seem to be where he's usually seen. In these regions, he is seen as often in the inner cities as in the rural and remote countryside, usually providing free medical services or other humanitarian effort.

He has also been known to help villages in war-torn regions protect themselves from rebels and/or raiders. He is generally reported as putting himself directly between the antagonists and their targets. Many reports exist of him having been fired upon, but not one single report says anything about him having ever being injured or even of being sick.

In regards to the medical services that he provides, while he seems to have a strong and vast medical knowledge and talent, he also seems to have a 'healing touch' and a 'knack' of curing incurable diseases. It has also been reported that patients given medicine up to several days after he's left an area are 'miraculously' healed as if he had been there.

His travel patterns appear to be random. Besides the name 'Kevin Bridges' and the occasional 'Dr.' or 'General', there seems to be no link to his past or any records or residences. There seems to be no reliable way of getting into contact with him, except to 'blind drop' a message off at one of the clinics that he's known to 'frequent' (visit once or more a year).

Click to reveal..

Army file photo


Current photo

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Name: Felicienne Seraphine Devereaux

Age: 22

Birthday: October 29th

Height: 5'7''

Weight: 136 lbs

Eyes: Green

Hair: Black

Nationality: French

Residence: Las Vegas

Registration Status: Not Registered


Felicienne was born in Lyon, France...

Click to reveal.. (Undisclosed Background)
to Jean-Marc Devereaux - a career thief - and Veronique Gauthier, a part-time model. When she was five or six, she wasn't sure if her mother left her, or her father took her, but she ended up traveling around mostly Europe and North America, leaning the arts of the thief. And with her natural mutant abilities, she excelled at them.

At first, she loved the thrill and challenge of the thefts, loved the attention from her father, and didn't miss the former schooling or mother she lacked in her life. She always felt a little sad when they fenced their gains, the paintings and jewels and other art objects. Still, it was her and her father against the world, and though they traveled a lot, they always stayed in the most luxurious comfort.

As she grew older and entered adolescence, she began noticing a change in her father, and not one she liked. They spent less time stealing art objects and more time swiping information, which she enjoyed far less. Her father become more brutal in neutralizing security personnel, rather than simply avoiding them or knocking them unconscious.

He even began using his increasingly beautiful daughter as bait, something she had no patience for. She had always thought they had worked for themselves, but Felicienne began to suspect her father was working for someone else, though she hever had any proof, mostly because she was reluctant to delve too deeply.

She was almost sixteen when they snuck onto an American Military Base in Germany and her father cold-bloodely killed a high ranking officer - an officer she had helped him gain access to. After seeing that, Felicienne had enough and fled, striking out on her own.

She eventually made her way to Las Vegas, supporting herself with some thefts, though the fences she found gave her only a fraction of what they were worth. While she tried to establish herself in Vegas, making contacts and settling down, Felicienne had a very brief stint as a stripper, which with her incredible grace, she was a natural at.

After six years on her own, she's wealthy, independant and doesn't need to... engage in 'wealth redistribution' unless she desires to. She lives an indolent, luxurious life-style, trying to capture a hint of the 'normal' life she never had, even taking a few courses at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, working part-time towards an Arts Degree, though she isn't taking it seriously.

And in between pampering herself, being a rich, unattached young woman, doing whatever strikes her fancy, there's always one more score that calls to her.


Felicienne is an indolent and self-indulgent young woman, glamorous and somewhat aloof, greatly enjoying her pleasures. She had no regular schedule, being active during both day and night, and varies between an indolent, laissez-faire laziness and almost manic activity.

She does have a territorial instinct and doesn't like people trespassing over what she considers hers, and possesses a vindictive streak, as long as she doesn't have to go out of her to satisfy it.

She can also be a frustrating woman, alternating between amused disinterest and a rare, frighteningly direct desire, that fades as soon as it arises. She's also quite private, rarely discussing her past or the source of her wealth, which in Vegas, is hardly unique.

A Feline in Human skin indeed.

Physical Description:

An extremely attractive woman with a sleek, lithe figure combining the best features of a dancer and gymnast, if more curvaceous than most of them. Her legs are particularly spectacular, long and strong and perfectly proportioned between tone and muscle. Her every movement holds an impossibly fluid, predatory grace and a restrained strength. Her large eyes are a striking, vivid green that never seem to blink and reflect the light with surprising intensity. Her lustrous, raven hair is worn in a variety of styles, though often loose.


Her clothing is always of the highest quality and the greatest comfort and she has a great fondness for high-heels due to her inclination to walk on her toes and the balls of her feet. She makes every effort to keep herself carefully groomed.

Her voice is a husky, purring alto, accented with her native France, though she speaks perfect English.


She lives mainly in her opulent, private open-design two-story villa-apartment at the Wynn Hotel and Casino.

Click to reveal.. (Hidden Safehouse)
She also has a safehouse where she hides most of her treasures located on an out-of-way cul-de-sac at the Las Vegas Country Club, thickly obscured by manicured greenery. The elegant house is disguised in plain sight, overlooked as one of the Country Club's owners private estates, that he rents out.
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Genetic Anomaly #2977: ‘Jaunt’

Personal Information

Full Name: Devin Jauntsen

Alias’s/Nicknames: Jaunt

Occupation: Homeless Kid/Not-so-professional Thief

Legal Status: Unregistered mutant and wanted for vagrancy.

Marital Status: Single

Known Relatives: Carl Jauntsen (Father, 39), Misti Jauntsen (Mother, 38), Jenna Jauntsen (Sister, 19)

Allegiance(s): Just himself, it’s got him by for this long. Jaunt, at his young age still seems to display a lot of introverted immaturity.

Known Powers: Jaunt is a mutant with the rare power of hyper enhanced speed and reflexes. So attuned are his senses and muscles to the world around him that his speed borderlines on premonition, the ability to perceive an event a split second before it happens and reflexively react to it. Although Jaunt’s speed has never been accurately recorded, an estimate based on a briefly recorded take-off trajectory came to a possible speed of nearly 110 miles per second!

He also possesses the ability to teleport himself, the clothes he is wearing, and, within limits, a certain amount of additional mass that is in contact with him. His teleportation functions by accelerating himself to a speed that literally shifts him into a separate pocket, or tunnel, allowing him to manipulate the space between two points. He accelerates through it, and then returns to his own ‘reality’, at a certain distance from his point of departure. Although Devin controls his co-locative ability with his conscious mind, his power to teleport is not temporal in nature.

As he disappears when teleporting, Devin leaves behind only a rigid blur as his body accelerates to a speed that cannot be detected. His teleportation is invariably accompanied by the echoed sound of a strong wind through a large tunnel. This sound is a small portion of the atmosphere from the tunnel that escapes while the aperture is open.

Physical Traits

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Height: 6’ 0”

Weight: 187lbs.

Frame: Jaunt has a powerful yet very compact, wiry frame that suits his particular talents.

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Eye Color: Hazel

Hair color: Brown

Tattoos/Birthmarks/Scars: Vertical scar approximately 1/4” in length above his right eye (concealed slightly by his eyebrow.)

Handedness: Ambidextrous

Physical and/or medical traits: None

Allergies: Jaunt is highly allergic to Avocados. Ingesting the slightest amount of anything containing avocado will leave him ill for days, and if he ingests too much it could prove fatal. Contact with avocados, but not ingesting, has left his tongue and gums inflamed for a like period of time.


Place of Birth: Flagstaff, Arizona

Initial perceptions of target: My son, Devin, is a cocky and headstrong recluse who feels like the powers of the world owe him something. He’s foul-mouthed and irritating with a prideful ego but forceful personality.

I later discovered that he’s been on the run and traveling for so long and been staying in places for such a short periods time that his perceptions of ‘here’ and ‘there’ are becoming incredibly skewed. My boy can move anywhere in the world instantly and no longer seems to posses a sense of distance or travel time. Indeed even walking for long periods seemed difficult for him as the time it took to get from Point ‘A’ to Point ‘B’ seemed to take too long.

Childhood: Devin remained with his father after he and I divorced when the twins were three. His father, afterward, became an abusive alcoholic who had difficulty holding a job for any length of time, making home a very difficult place for him to want to remain in for very long.

He joined his school’s gymnastics program as a means of spending as much time away from home as he could manage. He always said his father ridiculed him as often as possible about not participating in a ‘mans’ sport. Despite the ridicule he found something he was truly good at, aside from his excellent drawing skills. By the time he was a freshman in high school the school board had pleaded with his father to allow him to attend the national finals seven times and his father refused to sign the release forms that would allow him to go each time.

He claims that one night, after fighting with his father when he was sixteen, he simply left home and never returned. Research into this matter does indeed coincide with a young man’s disappearance from Avondale Arizona at around the time this repaort details.


Father: Carl Jauntsen (39)

Father’s profession: Until three years ago Carl Jauntsen held a variety of jobs to support an alcoholic lifestyle. For the past three years (which coincides with Devin’s disappearance from the home) he’s maintained a steady job as a mall security guard in Avondale Arizona. Prior to his alcoholism Carl Jauntsen was a successful and well-sought security advisor for corporations around the world.

Father’s current status: Under observation

Mother’s name: Misti Jauntsen (38)

Mother’s profession: Classified

Mother’s current status: Classified

Sister’s name: Jenna Jauntsen (19)

Sister’s profession: Classified

Sister’s current status: Classified


Educational Background: GED Equivalent education.

Honors: Olympic class gymnast.

Profession: Devin, through his life on the run has resorted to a life of thievery and he possesses skills that are useful in the field of burglary. However, his whimsical and shameless attitude has made him useful in a variety of ways including social graces and causing a large distraction. My son is an incredibly well rounded individual.

Skill description: Jaunt speaks several languages… terribly. His incredibe tumbling skills can only barely begin to be described and the author of this report could do his symphony of motion no credit if put into words. His free running and parkour skills serve as a great advantage when his high speeds are not typically available.

It should be noted however that one of Devin’s most useful talent is not his teleportation, or winning smile, or even his acute reflexes or tumbling skills. Above all, Jaunt is a fantastic artist, a hobby he claims he picked up as a means to cure himself of boredom when not practicing his gymnastics. His natural skill, combined with an excellent memory, allows him to observe things through sketch where standard surveillance equipment could not pry. This makes him a high security risk when taken into custody.

Special Considerations: Through a bastardized form of MMA and his natural teleporting ability, Jaunt has devised a fighting style that makes use of his own special movement capabilities. It is truly a wonder to behold, as the boy defies gravity and physics, popping in and out on all sides of his opponents during a conflict. This deserves special note because Jaunt seems to detest the taking of life, preferring to debilitate the opposition to killing them outright. We can use this to our advantage.

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Name:Samantha Morris, 'Sam', 'Orphan', aka Margaret Patterson

Age: 25

Registration Status: Not Registered (Margaret is)


Sam is a revolutionary. Her parents were some of the first to succumb to the virus and based on one of the last conversations she had with them, wholly blames the government. She used her powers to 'kill' herself, her name appears on the tombstone next to her parents. She created a new name, registered the name as a Class I mutant with more physical drawbacks than powers, went through school, got herself a couple PhDs and then went about trying to bring around the downfall of the American government through electronic reconnaissance and sabotage...her bread & butter. She is the leader of the 'Black Parade', a faction of the Mutant Underground (MU).


Sam will stop at nothing to end the virus and prejudice against 'her people'. She views the government as the primary reason for the state of mutant rights and would love to see DC in ruins. She spends most of her time leading a faction of the Mutant Underground (MU) towards that goal, hoping to fill the void in her life that was vacated with her parents death, because whether she will ever admit it or not, Sam is lonely. By surrounding herself in like-minded mutants she hopes to garner that sense of 'family' she once had.

Physical Description:

Average height with bleached blonde hair (couple red streaks) & luminescent green eyes. Her skin is almost entirely covered by a circuit board pattern that feels a lot like braille. When she is using her powers, the dots and lines glow with an eerie green light. Sam is a slender woman, she has the body of a distance runner, as would be expected of someone who runs 8-12 miles a day. She is almost always dressed in sweats, usually of her alma mater UNLV. Even in Las Vegas' high heat summers, she just runs that much faster to get from her air conditioned car to the air conditioned building or vice versa. On the very rare occasion that she goes out, her idea of dressing up is a pair of jeans and a nice blouse accompanied by jewelry.


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  • 1 month later...

Also Known As: The Wolf (nickname in the Mutant Underground); Subject Vanya (Old KGB)
Birth Name: Unknown
Aliases: Ivarr Rawlins, Jean Gevaudan, Alexander Garm, John Filtiarn, Raoul Weylyn

Allegiance: Mutant Underground
Registration Status: Unregistered, classified as a Class A mutant threat.

Age: Presumably 50+
Gender: Male
Ethnic Background: Caucasian
Height: 6'5”
Weight: 210lbs
Eye Color: Blue-Green (Often changed with contacts)
Hair: Medium length dirty-blond. (Color and style changed often, though hair grows out rapidly to its default when cut)
Handedness: Left
Distinguishing Marks: Eyes glimmer in near-darkness, the irises refracting as they make use of ambient light.

Image: A tall, attractive, well-built man apparently in his mid-to-late twenties. He usually wears his dark-blond hair medium-length, and his eyes waver from sea-green to light blue, depending on the light.

Note: There are no solid visual ID's of Fenris on file.

Abilities/Special Skills:
A trained black-ops agent, skilled in disguise, infiltration, combat, sabotage, stealth and survival.

Defending mutantkind by eliminating threats and punishing those who transgress against 'his people', as surgically (or not) as serves the purpose. Finding the cause of the virus and, if man-made, punishing those responsible.

He has no problem being both a freedom fighter (directly battling cops, agents and soldiers that are part of the repressive regime) and terrorist (directing strikes against civilian infrastructure in response to crimes against mutants in order to cause fear: to make humanity see that they'll pull back a bloody stump anytime they lay hands on a mutant). He's coldly businesslike about both roles.

Cool-headed and pragmatic. He believes in his cause, but would rather live for it than die for it. He tends towards being laconic in conversation, not having much use or time for small talk or filler, and would rather get to the point of a discussion than talk about points of view.

Towards humanity in general he is ambivalent. Though capable of discussing, planning and carrying out acts that could lead to massive loss of human life, he doesn't hate humanity and would only do such things as a matter of reciprocity. He reserves his rancor for those humans in charge of the oppression of mutantkind and their elite agents. There is a special place in his heart for mutants who willingly help their oppressors, however. These he considers traitors, 'Judas Goats' of the worst kind. Anyone who serves their own species up to human persecution deserves to be first on the killing floor.

It should be noted that Fenris is NOT a supremacist. He doesn't believe that mutants are inherently 'better' than humans - quite the opposite, in fact: humans are better organised and are the currently dominant species. He's fighting for mutantkind because they are his people and should not have to live as they are currently forced to, not because he believes they should inherit the Earth.

Known Capabilities
Fenris is thought to possess physical capabilities within the upper human percentile, along with recuperative powers, the exact limits of which are unknown, and apparently impressive sensory abilities. Additionally, wounds on his victims are consistent with some form of manifested claws, the spread of the wounds indicating a larger-than-human hand. It is possible from this evidence to presume that Fenris is a shapechanger.

What is certain is that he possesses excellent tradecraft skills: the KGB were once upon a time the world standard for espionage and 'active measures'. He doubtless maintains a number of semi-permanent legends, as well as false identities for travel use, and will be skilled at dressing and disguising himself to blend into virtually any background.


Records of the mutant known as Fenris go back to the mid-seventies and a rash of Cold War killings and disappearances on both sides of the Iron Curtain. Rumors started to circulate about a KGB black ops department that specialised in harnessing and controlling mutants 'in the service of the state'. In those rumors, it was Codename: Vanya that came up more often than not. With no single modus operandi, it was difficult to tell which of the killings attributed to this mutant were genuine, but at least 27 Western agents were definitely eliminated in a similar fashion: rent apart as if by a large animal with razor-sharp claws. CIA and their allies spent a lot of time and dollars trying to catch, and then simply to positively ID Vanya, but to no real avail. The mutant seemed to have a sixth sense for avoiding such measures.

After the collapse of the Soviet Union, a lot of the KGB's mutant agents that survived went into the Vory, the Russian Mafia. Vanya, on the other hand, disappeared altogether. Western agencies presumed him liquidated by his handlers, though since his re-emergence it is rumored that he was living in some remote, far-flung place far from human (or mutant) contact.

Resurfacing in the late 90's as Fenris, a part of the Mutant Underground, he quickly made a name for himself carrying out a number of espionage, sabotage and outright assassination attacks against mutant persecutors. Only a few fingerprints and hair fiber samples serve as identifying features, for those that have known they were encountering Fenris either have no interest in talking about him... or are not capable of doing so. Limelight-shy though he or she may be (evidence points to a male, based on hair analysis) Fenris is certainly not shy about killing to preserve his anonymity.

He has been responsible for the deaths of a dozen UNISON and eight AEGIS agents, five of whom were mutants. The last two of the mutant agent deaths came during an operation to entrap Fenris in Savannah, Georgia. An AEGIS shapechanger had taken the place of the assassin's contact. Indications suggest that the terrorist knew of the deception somehow, but elected to make contact anyway, killing the decoy without hesitation before making a speedy escape. After the alarm was raised the backup Elite was found nearby, dead and shoved into a dumpster, the words Smiet Predatelyam (Death for traitors) written on a folded ten-dollar bill in the dead man's mouth.

Since that time about five months ago Fenris has been quiet, keeping a low profile and staying off the combined radars of those seeking him.

What is known by...

...UNISON & AEGIS Fenris the terrorist is 90% likely to be the Cold War Soviet assassin 'Vanya'. It is unknown whether he is working for hire, like many Russian ex-spooks, or whether he is a true believer in the Underground movement. There are no consistent physical descriptions or photographs of him on file. If intel is received that this terrorist is in the area, immediate backup is to be called in. No agent, regardless of ability, is to attempt contact of any type with Fenris without full support and authorisation. This directive dates from the Savannah, Georgia incident 5 months ago. It is possible that Fenris has some form of extra-sensory power or is backed up by exceptional intel. The possibility of both cannot be ruled out.

...Mutant Underground "The Wolf? He's Orphan's hunting dog, and you didn't fuckin' hear me say that. Fenris ain't a big gun: he can't blow up buildings with his mind or shoot lasers outta his ass, but that mother is tenacious, y'dig? He can, like, smell if you're lyin', or afraid, or on something. He's quiet, too. Most of the badasses, they're all loud and in yer face, playin' wannabe gangsta only with powers instead of gats. Fenny don't say 'boo' to anyone, but y'know what? He don't fuckin' need to. They say he's ex-KGB, too. Speaks a dozen languages, can disguise himself ten ways to Sunday, and can kill you with his bare hands, or a gun, or a bomb. Spooky? Mebbe a little, but he's cool to talk to. C'mon, I'll introduce you. Oh, and only Orphan calls him 'Fenny' to his face. He doesn't seem to mind, but nobody else seems to feel like it. Funniest damn thing..."
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  • 2 weeks later...

The DVD was delivered anonymously, wrinkled brown paper wrapping around a cheap cardboard box. The label "Project 6066 - Classified - Do not copy" oozed irony as it graced the cheap Imation rewritable disk. It had only a single file, titled "watch me.avi" - this had bad news spelled all over it.

With a clicking and whirring sound, a movie starts to play. While the screen is black and torn up by white bubbles and streaks, the voice-over is crisp and clear. A whispered voice, male and nervous, with all the hallmarks of a New Delhi native, speaks hurriedly. "If you are watching this, I thank whatever guardian angel looked over my shoulder that my work hasn't been for nothing. I know who you are, and you don't know me, so you might be hesitant to trust my words - but trust me that you will want to watch this.."

A crude countdown from three to one in black and white, accompanied with horrid popping noises and much tearing in the screen leads way to an image of a small room, maybe twelve feet across. In the middle of the room is a wooden table, crudely lit by a bright overhead light.

Someone holds a newspaper in front of the camera, dated april 12, 1986. The US Times spends three pages on the peace negotiations between President Reagan and Gorbachov. Quickly the newspaper is removed, the screen goes black for a second and a man is seated at the table. Quite handsome type, chiseled jaw, young but bright-eyed and ready to take on the world. He checks his cuffs every few seconds, not accustomed to his attire. Even so, he seems in control, relaxed and inviting.

Felicity1.jpg The door opens, a sudden increase in light overcomes the camera, and all is white for a second. As the door is closed again, a girl sits opposite the man. She is young, maybe twenty, dressed in a simple single-piece outfit. Her light hair is the wavy model so popular these days, but doesn't do her justice. Clear, bright eyes gaze from an Asiatic face, the slant of the nose and the curve of her lips betraying a slight African-American ethnic influence.

She seems to bathe in a light of her own, her features serene and without any hint of emotion. She sits straight up, and it is obvious she is watching the man intently.

"Welcome to our humble base,Felicity. I hope you have recovered well from our rescue?" The voice is pleasant, wooden timbre, calm and controlled bariton.

"Very well, thank you..." her voice, high-pitched but clear, has a slight drawl, as if she was accustomed to speaking French. The girl leans slightly forward, reading the man's name tag,"...mister Dillinger. Trust me if I say that any discomforts of the journey were nothing compared to the horrors you and your men rescued me from, and for that I am grateful"

The man smiles, America's finest trying his best to make a good impression. "I understand it may be a bit startling, but rest assured that I personally will make sure your stay is as comfortable as possible. The criminal elements we liberated you from are still at large, and the United States of America take the security of its citizens to heart. Now, if you please, could you tell me a little more about yourself, to better understand your situation?"

The girl sighs slightly. "Well, mister Dillinger, let's start at the beginning then. My mother was expecting me when she was evacuated from Vietnam, a few days before the TET offensive. She said my father had arranged it for her, and that she would be able to join her family in the Chinatown of Las Vegas. I don't know exactly who my father was, but mother assured me he was an American soldier and that it makes me an American citizen.

When I was born, my blonde hair and amber eyes were seen as a sign of divinity. My mother had a priest brought in, an elderly gentlemen with severe arthrosis. When he touched my cheek, he straightened suddenly and his arthrosis was gone. That's when they were convinced I was an idol, a living manifestation of Buddhah."

The girl sighs again. As if on cue, mister Dillinger chimes in. "But you're not, are you?"

Felicity's face shows a hint of sadness."Of course not, but what did we know back then? But it wasn't bad, to be honest, living at the shrine. I managed to make a lot of people suffer less, tend to the sick and heal the injured. I felt needed, like I had worth.

That was before the Tong found out. When they did, all they thought of was power. They didn't consider the needs of the people, they just came in with guns and took me... Tears stain her cheeks.

"Now, now Felicity. You are safe now, and with people who DO know about you. Let's discuss your Mutant abilities then, if you will?" The girl nods, still crying,and the movie stutters to a halt.

A moment of blackness, and a second movie starts to play. This one's in color, much sharper and obviously more recent. The lower right corner reads the date in angry red digital numbers, January 2, 2001.

Dillinger.png The same room is displayed, this time in its full grey glory. Coffeestains mark the table, the grain of the wood damaged by time and over-casual use. Time has been kind to mister Dillinger, his chiseled face now shows command, his bearing self-confidence. His eyes are kind and warm, but now also show the detachement caused only by experiences best forgotten. Some signs of fatigue show on his face.

Again the door opens, and Felicity steps inside. Her dress clings to her as she moves, the hem fluttering across the ground. She's still a girl in her twenties at most, lithe build with a serpentine grace, features unblemished by even the slightest touch of age. She sits down on the chair opposte Dillinger, a slight but forced smile on her lips.

Dillinger observes her for a few seconds. His voice is firm as he speaks, but his lips are tight, his eyes narrow."So you're sick now too?"

Felicity nods stifly, her eyes filling up with tears. She draws her golden-blonde hair around her like a shround and sobs. She seems fragile, delicate, about to break. Between the sobs she manages to croak a few words."Maybe...I will...die now...as well?"

Dillinger stands and stares at the wall for some time, fists tightened behind his back. He then walks around the table and lays one hand on Felicity's shoulder. She grabs on to it, her tears still running.

He whispers something to her, and her eyes go wide for just a second. As if she regained her composure her face goes blank again - she nods once, curtly. "Do as you're told, have faith and be strong. All will be ok, I promise. He then withdraws his hand and leaves the room.

The voice-over returns, more hurriedly now. "Just recently, guards reported the disappearance of subject 6066. Her file was earmarked as a Priority 1 Biohazard, and a Shoot-on-sight fugitive. I know how you feel about knee-jerk reactions from Uncle Sam, so I thought you should see this.

May it serve you better than me."

The screen fades to black, and the whirring sound of the spinning disc slowly dies down.

Click to reveal..
This is the introduction of Felicity for Future Imperfect. Most likely I will expand this piece in an actual piece of fiction, and replace this introduction with a more straightforward piece.


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  • 4 months later...

FROM: rawlinsj@nypd.ny.gov

TO: annemfracis@nypd.ny.gov


>New York City Police Department



>Disorderly Conduct

>Disturbing the Peace

>Unlawful Public Gathering



>Known Aliases: Remy, "Roman"

>Date of Birth Used: June 8 1985

>Place of Birth: Boston

>Height: 5' 11"

>Weight: 198.

>Ethnicity: White/Caucasian.

>Occupation: Mechanic

>Build: Athletic

>Hair: Blonde

>Eyes: Brown

>Sex: Male

>Nationality: USA



>Nose broken several times

>Missing tooth on right side of mouth

>Tatoos covering chest, back, left arm



>NYPD has been cooperating with the FBI and DEA for the past three >years targeting, investigating and prosecuting the narcotics >trafficking, gambling, and money laundering operations of Alberto >"Diablo" Fernandez. In a raid by officers of all organizations on a >Bronx parking garage in December of last year, Remus Damaskos was >present, apparently as a participant in an unlicensed fight club >reminiscent of the UFC. Although many high-value suspects were >apprehended, Damaskos evaded capture and remains a fugitive.

>An arrest warrant was issued for disorderly conduct and disturbing >the peace by New York City criminal court. He may have fled to >Arizona or Nevada.

>Although the claims of one of the officers who took part in the raid >that Damaskos is a mutant, remain unverified, caution should still >be exercised when approaching him.



> Jim, here's what the report says. Honestly, I don't know why >you're so set on getting this guy. I know he got away but honestly, >it's just disturbance and he's already skipped town. I don't think >that we can get an extradition. The guy was small potatoes. It was >narcotics and organized crime and the feds who hit the jackpot with >that raid. Even if he was an uregistered mutie, it's not our problem >anymore.


I shot this guy at ten feet, center mass with my taser and it *melted* before it hit him. It was just a little above freezing out side but I couldn't breathe around him it was so hot, and I've still got a burn on my palm from where I put my hand against the wall afterward. I'm gonna get this guy.

Thanks for the help. I owe you a beer.



Even before you get to the fact that his nose has apparently been broken several times, Remus is just on the ugly side of plain-looking: People don't run screaming from him, but they'd rather talk to someone else and he only gets dates at last call. He's tall and well-built from a lifetime of a physical occupation and his regular practice of a variety of styles of martial arts in his free time. He has lots of tattoos covering his body, much of it with a Roman lettering motif (roman numerals, latin phrases, etc), as well as a legionnaire's helmet, and gladius on his back. His hair is dyed blonde and his eyes are brown, owing to his mixed nordic and mediterranean heritage.


Remus affects a nonchalant, eyerolling sarcasm, and his very presence seems to commiserate with others as though to ask "Pretty FUBAR, eh?" or "Sheesh, whatta mess" of everyone he interacts with. Despite this, he generally jokes and is usually smiling, but it is the pensive smile of someone who maybe isn't quite as jovial as he tires to act.

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