"Keep hammering it, I think it's going down!"
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Patrick blinks as an 130 foot tall woman appears out of nowhere. At least she seems to be on our side. Though why is she dressed like a soccer mom? Lots of weird ones here. I'll think about it later. Patrick refocuses and tosses another super-hard concrete ball at the giant robot of doom.
Patrick tears into the area and stops dead, seeing the chaos around. He has a moment of startlement and hesitates, but soon recovers. Giant robot first. Definitely need to take care of the giant robot. He whips some telekinetic tendrils around him, ripping up pieces of concrete. He starts with a mass the size of his torso, and applies 250 tons of crushing force to it from all directions, all at once, turning it into a single heavy, dense, diamond-hard ball about the size of a large marble. He spins it around him for acceleration, and then lets fly!
Patrick awakens with a start and a cough, rubbing his throat. "Jesus. I was afraid something like this was going to happen." He moves downstairs, to the garage and workshop he lives above, and heads to the secret compartment behind his tool rack, retrieving his costume. Costume, for anyone who cares:
Forzare's outfit consists of a modified Air Force pilot's jumpsuit (bit less bulk around the chest) and a stripped down mask (sans the tubes). A pair of gloves and combat boots round out the ensemble. The flight suit is a brighter, cleaner shade of that same color, while the trim is a lighter steel gray. The helmet is dark gray with silver eyes, and the gloves and boots are black. Quick as a flash, the suit flies out of the compartment seemingly of its own accord, wraps itself around Patrick, and he becomes Forzare! Forzare closes the compartment, opens the garage, and runs out at top speed, lifting himself a few feet off the ground with invisible spider legs of air (think how Doctor Octopus gets around. Except invisible.). He manifests his forcefield to protect himself from the wind and G-forces, and races to the Hall of Justice.
Odrick's eyes light up with joy. "Yes! I will be as quiet as a mouse, if you insist! Just let me out, let me see and feel!" He puts his mitt to his lips and makes a twisting motion that is perhaps meant to signify a key locking, and then bounces from foot to foot, almost childlike in his anxiousness.
Odrick seethes, as he always does during a storm since he was sent to this accursed place. "It's RIGHT THERE and I can't TOUCH IT, can't FEEL IT flowing through me! he screams, desperately scrabbling at the rubber mitts covering his hands, not for the first time. But, of course, just like every time, he can't get them loose, the gloves clasped shut with an intricate latch his fumbling fingers can't quite manage to undo with the thick rubber taking his manual dexterity to near-nothing. He pounds on the door, mitts softening the blows and diverting harm. "Let me out let me out let me out letmeoutletmeoutletmeoutletmeout!" he screeches more and more frantically as the storm intensifies. "I don't belong in here, I belong out there! Why must you torture me! WHAT DID I EVER DO WRONG TO DESERVE THIS?" his anguished cries echo through the halls, but no one answers. No one ever answers.
Sweet! Let's fry some suckers!
Odrick Payne Background: Odrick keeps quiet about his childhood, but his exploits are a matter of public record, and he's happy to recount his tales to anyone who will listen. He came to the city with nothing but the clothes on his back, the lightning flowing in his veins, and a powerful determination to do what's right. He got a job working at a little bakery shop, and lived on that modest wage. For a while, he worked without incident, but over time he began to notice that some people felt unfulfilled in their daily lives. They came into the shop, ordered a pastry, and ran off in a hurry, day after day, never stopping to enjoy life. Or came in, sat down with a cup of tea and a scone, and moped into their drink. Odrick felt great sympathy for them, and began to think. "My life is so simple, yet it's filled with such joy! What is it I have that they don't?" Odrick pondered this thought, he sat and he thunk and he wondered until finally he came to the only conclusion that made sense. "Eureka!" he cried, causing all the patrons to jump, and then, sheepishly apologized to all, and continued in his head. The electricity! Oh yes, that's what I have that they don't, the electric joy in my heart! He finished out that day, and then set to work that evening. First, he tracked down a guardsman with whom he'd made a rapport, and dragged him off somewhere private. "You!" the man cried, recognizing Odrick "You're the man from the bakery, but why?" "Why?" Odrick replied, tapping a finger to his chin "Because you deserve it." he finishes with a grin, and then gets to work, pumping the man full of power. Hours later, once he'd expired, and Odrick had returned home, he lay in his bed. What a good thing I've done today. Those screams of his, and the tears, and the begging for more! Oh it was wonderful. I'm glad I could make him so happy. That night he awoke mid sleep to the sight of the guardsman floating above his head, mouth wide open in exultant ecstasy, and finger pointed directly at Odrick. "Friend! You decided to stay?" Odrick exclaimed, delighted that the man cared so much to stick around even in death. So happy was he, and assured of his rightness that he went out again and again, spreading his joy to as many as he could. Every one had some new, unique way of asking for more. "No, please don't stop!" some would cry, and so Odrick would not. "Wait, I have a wife, and kids!" others would call, and so Odrick would happily oblige in giving them the gift as well, as a favor to his friend. "No! I'll give you anything you want!" some would call when they caught their breath, to which Odrick would reply "Please, no compensation is necessary. I do what I do out of the goodness of my heart." And much more praise for his abilities flowed forth. After a while, he'd amassed quite a collection of grateful spirits, six in all. The original guardsman, of course. A pickpocket he caught counting his ill gotten gains. A bored, lonely wizard's apprentice, who finally got some fulfillment. A father, lovingly embracing his children as he gifted them all at the same time. The sad trumpeter of a troop of soldiers. And last, but not least, a Mitran priest who clearly yearned to know a real higher power. It was this last that undid him, as such an insult could not stand to the followers of the Pretend God, and they and the government put all resources into capturing him. His sentencing was swift and entirely unfair. They listened to his explanations and impassioned arguments, heard of all the good he did for those people...and discarded it all without a second thought, labeling him mad! MAD, of all things, when he was merely bettering people's lives on a daily basis! The injustice! And so he was sent to Branderscar Sanitarium, unable to pass his gift to others, or even feel it himself, restricted as his movements are, lightning prevented from coursing through his body, and feeling the ecstasy of it sizzling through his synapses. This last was a slight he could not bear. One injustice too many. He could have borne out his sentence in peace, content to keep his gift to himself, away from the ungrateful men who'd locked him here. But to prevent him from experiencing it himself? "For his own safety?" UNFORGIVABLE! But Odrick is patient, and Odrick is kind. He'll still give his gift to them when he gets out, though the nature of his imprisonment means he won't be able to give the guards and doctors the attention they deserve. But they'll get a taste. They'll all get a taste. |