Basic Information
Name: Aaron Anders
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Revanant
Gender: Male.
Age: 16
Height: 6'1", or about two meters.
Weight: 210 pounds. Most of it is muscle.
Reason for Attendance: Aaron was, previous to attending, the leader of a small team of teenage super-heroes. Unfortunately, the group broke up after getting their asses handed to them on a silver platter by a fairly powerful villian. Blaming himself for the defeat, Aaron signed himself up to learn the skills that he believes could have made the difference.
Appearance
Hair Color: Aaron is a natural redhead.
Eye Color: Forest Green.
Ethnicity: An almost ghostly pale.
Physical Appearance: Aaron is a tall, sturdily built ginger. He's got a very archetypical hero build: broad shoulders, a strong chin, and while they don't look all that big on him, his hands and feet are enormous. Size 17 shoes, and there hasn't been a pair of gloves that fit since he was 12. Aaron also has thick eyebrows and long eyelashes that are not always visible behind his mask. As a side effect of his power, Aaron has no scars or physical injuries of any kind. Many say that Aaron has a "perfect nose" but he doesn't really know what that means. Aaron also has very straight teeth, and hair that is unruly at best, and an entirely separate entity with malevolent intent at worst.
A few years of crime fighting has given Aaron a purposeful, streamlined sort of fitness, the sort that only comes about with frequent combat.
Attire: Out of costume, Aaron sticks to easy, comfortable clothes in bright colors. Jeans and t-shirts, or occasionally a button down with long sleeves.
In costume, Aaron wears a black and green bodysuit, not unlike that of Havok from the X-men. (Reference image, for those who don't know:
http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs40/f/2009/046/2/7/Havok__X_MEN_Strikeforce_by_windriderx23.jpg) However, the upper half of his face his covered, and his arms are left exposed. The suit has short sleeves.
Personality
Personality: Aaron is incrediblely curious, and while he isn't a super genius by any means, he loves to learn. Almost any first meeting will require Aaron to ask about the other person's powers and abilities. Aaron is very wordy and talks often, though he's bad at introducing himself to others, which can make him seem shy. Aaron does what he can to make people laugh, though he mostly just makes terrible puns.
Hobbies/Interests: Aaron has a passionate love for books of all sorts. He's also an avid movie-goer and player of games, from Risk to League of Legends. He has a novel that he's working on, but so far refuses to show anyone.
Skills/Talents: Aaron is good at a grand total of about five things: English, Street Fighter, actually fighting, acting, and he's an impressive dancer, though he'd never admit it. Anything else? Laughably bad. Aside from those five things, listed above, at which he is incredible, Aaron is unfortunately terrible. Seriously, the guy can't even tie his own shoes.
Prized Possession: Aaron has a small photograph of his eight year old brother in his wallet, he has it with him always, and put the last person who took it in a body cast.
Quote(s): "Fuck...Oww...Bullets, why?"
History/Bio: Aaron was raised well, lived happily with his parents, Maria and Alexander Anders, in addition to his brother James. When Aaron's powers manifested at age 13, he managed to keep them secret for about two months. His cover was blown when a drunk driver ran Aaron over while his family was walking home. When his power allowed him to stand in up with little more than a groan and a stretch. His parents disowned him on the spot, calling him a monster and a freak. He hasn't seen his parents or brother since. He took up crime fighting to distract himself from his feelings of abandonment, and has since seemingly moved on.
Family: Maria Anders ( Maria Calrow before marriage): Mother. Alexander Anders: Father. James Anders: Younger brother, age ten.
Relationships
TBD
Abilities
Power Class & Rating
Level Eight Super-System
Power: Revanant, Aaron's heroic identity, is commonly thought to be unkillable. While this is untrue, there is a reason Revanant hasn't died despite numerous attempts. Revanant has an impressive healing factor, able to heal back limbs in a week, and nearly any other injuries in one or two days. His main power is however, isthat his body has developed a ridiculous amount of redundancies. Almost every organ can perform the duties of the others. For example, if one were to shoot Aaron, say, in the heart, he would fall down for a moment, and then proceed to stand up as his spleen took over pumping his blood. If you were to blind him, he could see by feeling the light on his skin. Break his arm and strings of tendon would harden to form a new pseudo-bone until his healing factor could repair the damage. In addition to being incredibly hard to put down, Aaron can also stimulate his own adrenaline, giving him borderline super strength, speed, and a humongous pain tolerance. Lastly, Aaron can fly, though no faster than he could run.
Weaknesses/Drawbacks: Though he is stupidly hard to put down, Aaron does have limits. Ways to kill Aaron include: beheadings, meat grinders, disintegration, splattering him against the pavement, or similar levels of damage are beyond his ability to heal, and do a pretty good job of bypassing his redundancies. Think of it like killing a zombie. Hard, especially if you don't know what your doing, but not impossible. He's not any tougher than a normal human, as far as damage resistance goes. Punches, knives, and other such things deal damage to him, his power just allows him to function optimally regardless of how much damage he takes. Additionally, while Aaron can take an enormous amount of punishment, he can't dish it out like other heroes. He's just barely able to throw a Volkswagen Beetle, and even that is a tremendous effort. His fastest running/flying speed is 60 mph, which is fast for certain, but not ungodly so. Additionally, while Aaron could get a bus slammed into him and stand up a minute or two later, he doesn't actually eat up the momentum of the attack. Physics still apply, even if he doesn't suffer any serious damage from an attack, it still has the potential to send him flying.
Other: Yes, I stole the power from Worm. No, I haven't finished reading it.
Sample Post: It was raining slightly, and and I was uncomfortably cold as I hung upside down from a chain in some gang's hideout. I'd gotten lazy on a stakeout and fallen asleep, and when I awoke, I was like this. It was an unfortunate situation, as I heard one of the goons talking on a phone, "Yeah boss, we caught a cape. He was passed out on the rooftop that the boys go up to to smoke, so we brought him down to the locker and chained him up real good." I sighed inwardly. I was not cut out for solo work. I'd need a better position to break the chains that bound my arms to my sides. The thug got off the phone and came over, flipping a blade between his fingers. This was about to hurt. The thug popped a squat near me, "Hey there, spandex. The boss wants me to off ya', blade through the heart, I'm thinking. Maybe if you an extra tough one I'll get some boys to help me dip ya' in concrete." The thug spoke with what I believe was a Brooklyn accent, though I don't know. I offered him some advice, "First time? Listen, my name's Revanant. I'm just going to let you know that..." I was cut off as the thug stabbed his switchblade into my chest. I cursed, and loudly. "Ow! Mother of God! Let a guy finish before you stab him, you inconsiderate assfart!" I shouted, momentarily overcome by the pain before the adrenaline surged to dull it into a faint throb. He's missed my heart, but the effect hit home. A wound like this would take maybe a minute to heal, at best. "Anyway, go and get yourself the shotgun over there, because you'll want it for this." I suggested. I planned to trick him into blasting the chains apart, and he seemed to be going along with it as he moved to grab his sawed off shottie. I waited as he leveled it, then at the last moment twisted so the binding chains were in the line of fire. They shattered, and my arms were free. I used them to grab at the goons legs and tear them out from under him, causing him to hit the back of his head against the ground and pass out. The shotgun clattered to the ground, just barely within my reach. I used it to blow apart the chains connecting me to the ceiling. After falling to the ground with a painful thud, I pushed myself up with a moan. I didn't like being stabbed. Or shot, frankly. Across the room was a garage door. Presumably, it lead outside. I crossed the room and pressed my hands against it. As I pushed, I kicked my Adrenaline into high gear, and felt the metal give way and bend. I bent it up and out, forming a metallic awning above me. I felt the cool night air on my arms, and heard the surprised shouts of two more gang members. One had a pistol, the other was a large man with a pipe. The pistol fired three times, one shot dinged against the back wall of the garage but the other two drove into my lungs. I fell backwards, more from the force of the gunshots than anything else. For a moment, I couldn't breathe, but my intestines took over the absorption and distribution of oxygen, and all was well. I pushed myself up, grumbling. "Damn bullets," I groaned as the large man swung his pipe. I caught his arm, then slammed my knee into his stomach. He wobbled from the impact, and I let him fall to the ground clutching his guy. The thug with the gun fired again, missing terribly. I charged him and punched him in the face hard enough to flip him over. He was still breathing, but he wasn't moving. With no more threats in sight, I jogged to the street and tore the sign from the ground without too much effort. Then I gathered up the goons, and with a grunt and some elbow grease, tied the signpost around them. For good measure, I also bent the pipe into a pretzel, and squeezed the barrels shut on the guns. My work complete, I took off into the air, feeling the wind through my hair as I soared
