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Maxwell Landon (The Shape)

"If you don't like how the table is set, turn over the table."

24 views · last seen in Gambit's Bar
a character in “Project Oddity”, as played by Lord Saethos

Description

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Theme 1 – Hate or Glory
Theme 2 – Maze (AKA: Omega)
Theme 3 – Viol
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Full Name: Maxwell Landon
Alias: The Shape
Age: 37 (Born 1980)
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian, of English descent.

Hair: Maxwell's hair is naturally "platinum blonde", or silver.

Eye color: Amber

Body: Slim but athletic.

Height: 5'11"

Weight: 156lbs

Hometown: Wilmington, North Carolina

Affiliation(s): The Union (Defunct), Landon Technical Enterprises (Defunct), others (?)

Personality:
Charming, polite, usually a bit courteous, and can hold a good conversation. People feel like this man is a good listener, who really brings them into the conversation, and they sometimes find they can’t help but feel compelled to open up. Likewise, they can’t help but feel compelled to listen to him, to linger on every word he has spoken.

That’s one side you might see.
Cold. At times it can be impossible to catch Maxwell showing emotion, but when he does, it's difficult to be sure if it's even real. He has neither real love nor hate for people on the whole, they're just tools or obstacles to achieving goals. On one hand, he has a cool collectedness, seemingly completely confident in what he does. On the other hand, he is completely detached from other “beings”, caring little to nothing for them on a personal level.

His morals are as ambiguous as his feelings. He's capable of great cruelty but doesn't seem to seek it out with any particular preference, nor does he seem interested in inflicting it on any particular kinds of people.

As for his feelings on parahumans and normal humans, his feelings are equally neutral. He shows little to no preference (or hatred) for either. He will help or hinder (or even kill) both as he sees fit.

To what end? Only he can really say.

Likes:
- Learning. Any new information or ideas that Maxwell can pick up, he likely will.
- Understanding people. He likes to know how they think, how they feel, what keeps them “ticking”.
- Coffee. Black, with a little sugar. Generally enjoys Americano’s, but Maxwell has varied tastes as well.
- Fine wines and liquors.
- A mixture of musical genres, from classical, to forms of industrial techno.
- The News. Maxwell tries to keep himself as informed as possible on current events, including business trends.
- Success. Winning. Earning something for his hard work.


Dislikes:
- Beer and other “cheap booze”. He hated seeing it growing up, at BBQ’s, or other events. He always felt those drinks represented “mediocrity”. “Lower class”, “Middle class”, “alcoholics”, or people “just having fun”.
- Useless people. People who cannot personally contribute to what he wants.
- Begging. It gets obnoxious when people won’t fight for themselves, either to survive, or to win.
- Repetitive, generic music (of many varieties). It gets bland, dull, boring rather quickly.
- Threats. Not only are they annoying, they’re annoyingly patronizing. And that’s something Maxwell does not accept.
- Losing. Failure. Hard work being lost. It’s one of the few things that will provoke Maxwell’s truly angry, violent side.
- Mediocrity. Weakness. Lack of Ambition.

Skills:
- Somewhat proficient firearms user, made a habit of it after the loss of Landon Tech.
- Moderate skills in programming and electronics. Has put less effort into it since his young adult years.
- Keen mind for business and understanding current events.
- Manipulative (in the right circumstances, knows how to get what he wants)

Costume Identities:
Maxwell has utilized several costumes over the course of his criminal life. That coupled with the fact that his name, motives, and any other defining traits or features are unknown to the rest of the world has made him a particularly “low key” villain in some circles. This hasn’t kept him from being something of an icon though, some of his identities have become rather well known (largely in criminal circles, such as The Union). Here is a list of the most significant outfits he has worn:
- The First Shape (Before Union Takeover)
- The Second Shape (After Union Takeover)
- The Third Shape (After Union Destruction)


Equipment:
- Two Beretta 87 Targets
- One Beretta 90-Two
- Two AMT Automag III (Mostly for show)
- Responsive Optics built into his masks (switches to Infrared Vision when he uses his powers)
- Several black, carbon steel daggers



Background:

Let's get one thing straight about Maxwell Landon. He was never normal, and not because of his powers. Maxwell was born to your normal, stable, average American family in Wilmington, North Carolina.

By 1991, he had murdered his parents and two siblings. Stabbed them each several dozen time. He ran to a neighbor’s house and called the police, sobbing and desperately trying to describe the “mad killer” who had committed this terrible crime. Dark clothes, like a trench coat or cloak, and a blank, featureless face, or mask perhaps. The police arrived shortly after the call, but the killer was nowhere to be found. Except for in the mind of Maxwell Landon.

In 1999, after 8 years living with his Grandfather in Boston, and a year at MIT’s Sloan School of Management, Maxwell “assaulted” the frail old man. His grandfather was a weak old man, who struggled to get down the stairs without a walker. One day, when he was trying to do just that, Maxwell used his “shadow powers” and blinded the old man, just for a few split seconds, long enough to miss a step and tumble down the stairs. His grandfather died a week later in hospital, leaving behind his estate to Maxwell.

But that wasn’t all Maxwell walked away with. The old man had imparted knowledge on him for years. Knowledge about psychology (which his grandfather had worked in for most of his life), economics, politics, and even a bit of the sciences.

Once 2000 had arrived, Maxwell had left MIT and was investing the small fortune (only several hundred thousand dollars) of his grandfather into the stock market. He was brilliant at it. He managed to turn his hundreds of thousands into a million before New Years.

2001 rolled around, and he was still making money, with more of his work starting to take him to New York itself. He wasn’t in New York on September 11th however, pure and stupid luck that saved him. The moment was one of consideration for him, a point where he realized how truly weak he was in comparison to some of the things on our world… But also, what kinds of opportunities must exist.

By 2004, his money was still good, but he was getting bored, and yearned for something more. He started a business, Landon Technical Enterprises, quickly swooping into the software and hardware markets. Several programs his company developed focused mainly on businesses, helping them with information storage, communications, and essentially "better organizing" their companies. It had been going well so far, and Maxwell had plans to branch off into robotics and cybernetics.

By 2010, the once hugely successful Landon tech went bankrupt. With the rise of new technologies and standards, a larger competitor came into the market, one backed by billions instead of Maxwell's millions. Landon Tech began to lose customers to them, and with millions of dollars in costs and debts, there was no feasible way to recover.

Maxwell was driven to a point of rage he had never experienced before. This amount of loss was not something he had experienced. He had some money left, but most of it was tied up in stocks or smaller business ventures he'd dabbled in, nothing serious. Rather than losing those as well, he found himself selling off more of his personal belongings, until he was a scummy apartment away from living on the streets.

In 2011, Maxwell was starting to hear strange rumors from the illicit circles he found himself getting entangled with. A criminal organization known as “The Union”, one of the biggest crime syndicates in the world, with operations in America and South America, and growing into Asia and Europe as well. That rage Maxwell had felt for a year was gone, and a new feeling was in his chest now; ambition.

In 2013, after 2 years of experimenting with his “master powers”, and some subterfuge and manipulation, Maxwell carries out an assault on the New York headquarters of The Union, using an army of addicts, psychos, and other people he found easy to manipulate. He quickly eased into the position of “leader” of The Union, cutting brilliant deals with other gangs the old leadership struggled with. Maxwell ran The Union for several years after, remaking it into one of the most efficient businesses (never mind criminal organizations) in the world.

Sept. 8th, 2017. Maxwell loses control of The Union. The FBI and several gangs simultaneously attacked their headquarters. A massive gunfight ensued, killing nearly all his lieutenants who had helped manage and run The Union with him for years. Maxwell managed to flee to upper New York state, bringing a few loyal followers with him, and as much money and business assets as he could cobble together. It was then that the decision was made to leave for Capetown Texas, and to begin again.

Sept. 14th, 2017. Maxwell takes a private jet to Capetown Texas, making preparations to move onto an old ranch property outside of the city that he has purchased. “Renovations” are expected to be underway soon.


Powers:
Casting Shadows -
[Shaker – 7 / Breaker – 6 / Stranger – 6]
Maxwell has the ability to create a “shadowy aura” that can block out all sources of light in a given area. This includes blocking light from electric sources (light bulbs) or semi-natural sources (windows, doors, etc.). Mostly effective indoors, but can be used in the outdoors as well, though it's range is only about 100-200 feet. In broad daylight, this power can block out some sunlight, but only enough to make the effected area appear dimmer (the distance being covered will determine the amount of light blocked). Given that this power blocks sources of light, this makes non-infrared night vision unusable in nearly all circumstances.
This power is made possible by light blocking “particles” that are created in Landon’s body, and controlled by his mind. As it stands, the only way to counter this power would be other powers that could use other particles to interfere, infrared vision, or being outside of the effected area (though anything within the effected area still would remain unseen).

Mind Manipulation -
[Master – 7 / Shaker – 7 / Breaker – 6 / Stranger – 6]
With this ability, Maxwell is able to “control” or manipulate the minds of people around him. His body once again produces “particles” that in this case can emit a form of energy. This energy specifically targets parts of the brain that will produce certain physical, emotional, and psychological responses that Maxwell wishes to target. These responses can be used to make targets of “open to suggestion” or make them more susceptible to manipulation. This power relies upon Maxwell getting to the right “weak spots” in the target’s brain, which means he must have some level of understanding about the individuals, and their mental states. Furthermore, this power can be resisted, especially if the suggestions he makes are too strongly opposed to the target's mental or moral makeup, or if they have some sort of innate resistance to this power.

Ex. Maxwell would have a difficult time manipulating a hero into committing murder. But Maxwell would have an easier time manipulating someone with certain mental health issues into committing murder.


Trigger Event:
It would have been a normal day for any other kid. Something any child could experience. But Maxwell was always different. He was distant from his mother, his father, and his siblings. They always just seemed so… Pathetic to him. His father, a meager, middle-income office worker. His mother, a stay-at-home mom. His siblings, just regular kids.

Maxwell was at school, playing with a toy he’d gotten for his birthday, an action figure. It was 1990, Maxwell was only 10. One year before the murder of his parents and siblings. While Maxwell was at school, two bullies approached him, one who was 12, the other 13. They pushed Maxwell around for a bit, trying to scare him up a bit. The 13-year-old was taking the lead in the bullying, and the 12-year-old followed. It ended in one of them grabbing the toy and breaking all its arms and legs off, as well as the head. They tossed it at Maxwell, walking away laughing.

Maxwell had never felt this kind of loss before. Not sadness, a feeling of loss for something he loved. But loss in the sense that he had been robbed, stolen from. He felt a kind of rage that some people may never even feel in their lives.

The bullies made their way back home through a nearby forest, a usual route for the two boys. Maxwell knew this. As they walked through a part that was hidden from any roads or houses nearby, Maxwell emerged from some bushes behind them, and smashed a tree branch into the head of the 13-year-old boy. The impact sent the young teen straight to the ground and left him convulsing in seizures. Maxwell quickly turned to the 12-year-old, making another quick swing at his head.

The impact was less severe, but the boy hit the ground nonetheless. Maxwell continued a series of beatings on the boy, turning him into a bloody and bruised mess. The boy begged Maxwell to stop, and eventually he did, but not without leaving a grave warning.

The attack on the two boys was blamed on a random stranger stalking the woods, who never ended up being caught. The 13-year-old couldn’t remember the events at all, given the severity of his head injury, and to this day he still suffers periodic seizures. The 12-year-old could perfectly remember what happened, he never forgot it, and to this day still suffers from intense anxiety attacks.

One thing that the younger boy still remembers is how dark it appeared to get around Maxwell, how the light seemed to completely disappear, and how, in that moment, he was absolutely overcome with an inescapable fear of death. It was the only thing he could think of. It was the only thing Maxwell let him think of.

#3B444B

#A40000

#03A89E - Willoughby and Ulysses

So begins...

Maxwell Landon (The Shape)'s Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Logan "Shatterstrike" Hartigen Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape)
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Sept. 14th, 2017 - 8:48 AM
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The engines of the private jet gently thrummed as it glided through the air, a calm reprise from the chaos that Maxwell Landon had crawled out of. He slowly rolled the light brown liquid around the tumbler he had in hand, admiring the way the light glinted in it. "Bit early to be enjoying that isn't it sir?" The words came from Willoughby, a tall, stocky African American man with albinism, who sat next to his twin brother, Ulysses. They both wore the exact same outfit; an oddly cyan colored business suit jacket and matching pants, white dress shirt, white leather shoes, and a cyan blue tie in a Windsor knot. The brothers looked intently to their boss, the one thing that took top priority for them in this world.

The silver haired man continued to stare at the glass. "It's a mourning drink." The pun came out in an entirely neutral tone, his face unchanged. "A toast, to what has been lost." Maxwell turned to meet the gaze of the twins, raising the glass to them. "To life, death, and rebirth." He took a sip of the scotch before setting it down on a table next to him, then looked out the window next to him. "You'll both have to forgive me if I seem like I'm not taking this well. But you're both well aware of how I feel about theft, the absolute insult that it is. And The Union... That is possibly the greatest theft, the greatest insult, I have ever been made to endure."

The two men sat quietly for a moment. "To rebirth then, sir." Ulysses said neutrally. Maxwell nodded, with a sigh and a slight smile. Willoughby spoke up again. "We'll be in Texas soon sir. We already have some supplies and equipment in transit to the property, so work can begin in hopefully no more than a day or two." Their boss nodded once more to them. As the flight continued, his mind poured over ideas and plans for the future. Maxwell Landon was far from done.

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Outskirts of Capetown, Texas. Sept. 14th, 2017 - 1:38 PM
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Maxwell's plane had landed a short while ago at a private airstrip, where was met by a limo which took him and the twins to the rural outskirts of Capetown. After about a 15 minute drive, they had reached the Ranch he had purchased several days ago. It had been a lucky find, and a quick sale, the owner was wanting to move away to an area that was a little more quiet than what Capetown had become. The rancher watched as a silver haired man stepped out of the sleek looking limo, followed by two large, pale men wearing oddly colored suits. He was a little confused by the whole thing, but money was money, so he wasn't about to kick up a fuss.

Maxwell walked over to introduce himself. "Mr. Manion, pleased to finally meet you." The rancher smiled and nodded as they both shook hands. "Likewise Mr. Landon. I hope you don't mind my asking, but ah... Are you really ready for this?" Maxwell gave a polite grin. "I might be a city boy Mr. Manion, but I'm no stranger to hard work. It'll be good for me I think, little quieter than being in the city at least." The rancher gave a nod before they both finally sat down and quickly signed the documents for ownership.

After only a few minutes, the two men shook hands, took their copies of the paperwork, and said their farewells. "Well Mr. Landon, I wish you luck here. Capetown can be a crazy place sometimes. Hope you know what you're in for." Maxwell gave an appreciative smile. "Fortunately I do Mr. Manion, it takes a lot to scare me off. But I do appreciate the thought. Take care of yourself." The old rancher nodded back in appreciation as well before getting into his truck and driving off. Everything had already been moved out in advance, Maxwell had the entire property to himself now.

"Willoughby, Ulysses, let the workers know when they get here that they can start working immediately. The temp house first, then they can work on the rest." Maxwell pulled a cigarette out, lighting it with a silver lighter before taking a few long drags. Time to rebuild again.

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Outskirts of Capetown, Texas. Sept. 20th, 2017 - 10:03 AM
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Maxwell had been up since about 7am this morning, enjoying coffee, a decent breakfast, and enjoying the new view as he kept up on the news. The first day he'd been on the Ranch, the workers built him a 'temporary house' with all glass walls. It was a specially designed 'desert house' that managed to keep the temperature pretty well, and still allow privacy despite the glass walls. It was aesthetic to him, and that's mostly what mattered.

There was plenty on the news about the events of yesterday. Power outages from a cape, and a very strange 'creature' that had attacked the bank. Whatever that thing was, Maxwell found himself quite... Fascinated by it, and the power outage for that matter. His mind became a whirlwind of possibilities, ideas, and ambition. Maxwell had just started on a cigarette when his phone began to go wild, a strange beeping coming from it, which was when he caught the distant sound of air raid sirens.

There was a loud thudding sound as Willoughby and Ulysses rushed through the door and into the glass house."Sir. It's an abhorrent." They both spoke gravely. Maxwell looked between the two of them for a moment, a silent pause hung in the air, almost louder than the blaring ring of his phone, or the distant air raid sirens. Finally, a grin began to form on Maxwell's face. "Perfect." Maxwell quickly opened steel crate that had been sitting in a side room, changing from his suit and into the black, ominous clothing of his new 'uniform'.

"Alright, we still have some of the drones, correct?" The two twins nodded. "Yes sir, seven." Willoughby replied. "Good. I want you to send all of them out to the city. Find some safe vantage points for them, and set them to a live feed. I want you both here recording everything that the cameras pick up." The two twins nodded. "Of course sir. What all do you want us to record sir? Just the Abhorrent?" Maxwell smiled, shaking his head.

"No, record EVERYTHING. The Abhorrent, the Capes, and anything else that happens. I don't want you to miss a thing. That's why I want the live feed; we can lose the drones, but we cannot lose the footage." Ulysses nodded and spoke up. "We'll get it done sir." Maxwell nodded to them as he placed his mask upon his head finally. "Good. Gentlemen, what happens today may very well become part of research and development for us. Let's hope for a good show."

Maxwell started to leave before one of them spoke up. "Sir, are you... Certain that this is a good idea? The odds of death-" The Shape raised a hand to halt any further comment. "Business, life, power itself. It's all about risk. You don't take them, you get no payoffs, and you stay stagnant, weak, mediocre. I refuse to be mediocre." He turned to face them again, the ominous white mask hiding any semblance of the human wearing it. "Rebirth gentlemen." And with that, Maxwell made his way to the city.

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Capetown, Texas. Sept. 20th, 2017 - 10:40 AM
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Maxwell had made it to the outskirts of the crowd of capes only a few minutes ago, and things were already starting to get tense. He was somewhat worried about all the capes here, but being on the outskirts meant he had more freedom to move out quickly if need be. The Triumvirate was on scene, and their little drones were flying around, attaching to people's arms. Maxwell did not like that one bit, but it was hard to say where this was going as of yet. At least he was on 'radio silence'. The twins would be able to work on their own without direction from him, for now, he just had to stay focused on what he could learn from the ground level.

He let the drone in front of him finally attach to his arm. If it became a problem and came down to it, he'd saw his arm off and get a tinker to make him a new one.

"How long does it usually take before we start getting information? I almost expect a riot simply because of the collectively anxiety."

Maxwell turned to face a glossy black looking figure. He was a little surprised the man was speaking to him, though perhaps under these dire circumstances it was normal to make conversation even with total strangers.

"Sorry friend, but this is probably as new to me as it is to you." He spoke with a mildly friendly tone. Finally Legend, one of the Triumvirate, began his 'heroic' and 'empowering' speech, which became much less of the two when he began to give the audience of capes the actual information on the Abhorrent.

"I suppose we both have our answer now." Maxwell said to the other cape. He stayed facing towards Legend himself, but Maxwell's eyes occasionally glanced over the strange exterior of the man next to him. It was rather fascinating he had to admit, perhaps even impressive. Certainly it would be interesting to see how this man fared in real combat...

Legend had finally wrapped up his speech before the crowd was met with the sound of violent destruction. Tangle was here. "Show time." Maxwell whispered to himself, grinning under his mask as he broke into a sprint towards some of the surrounding buildings, further away from the Abhorrent.

Having made it rather quickly around the mass of people running in panic, The Shape had made it up into an office building, having climbed a few stories and now peering out at the chaos in the streets from a window. He watched, waited, and tried to learn as everything unfolded. The thing on his arm kept alerting him about capes going down, obtaining injuries, etc. This thing was dangerous, absolutely no doubt about that. On one hand, it was a bit frustrating, how powerful and insurmountable it seemed. On the other hand... It was inspiring. For now, Maxwell waited and watched, curious what Tangle would do, and equally as curious what the capes were going to do.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jasmin Lehtinen (Sähkö) Character Portrait: Jericho Amile (Wendigo/Ghoul) Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Terry 'Tess' Farina (Hush) Character Portrait: Mara Haruka Black Character Portrait: Kayle Tallion (Twisted Smile) Character Portrait: Lucas Eklund (Chrysopoeia) Character Portrait: Vic Martel (Nobody) Character Portrait: Logan "Shatterstrike" Hartigen Character Portrait: Nova Edinger Character Portrait: Victor "LTL" Stellianos Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape)
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Footnotes

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The atmosphere was anything but pleasant. Even as someone who could influence others emotions on a mass scale, this was something that put even Kayle on edge. Everyone looked ready to fight, but not necessarily the Abhorrent. Glances, deliberate stares, feigned insults and threatening physical postures. Villains, vigilantes and heroes alike all crowded into a space with their potentially worst enemies outside of genocidal monsters of nightmares. Already people were feeling the friction, emotion taking over logic in a bid for immediate satisfaction. Kayle’s eyes floated over them, watching as the fight was broken up and only barely paying attention to the briefing that the ‘best of the best’ were giving them. In fact, it took him longer than he would have liked to notice the box floating in front of him with what appeared to be a bracelet of some sort. Looking around, he saw nearly everyone donning it, lawful and evil alike. He didn’t like the idea of wearing anything made by someone who, on any other day, would most likely be hunting him down, but this was a different situation.

Once it attached itself to his arm, he rubbed it slightly but didn’t find that it was heavy or otherwise in the way. It did seem to be a mixture of tracking and communication device, which made Kayle even more uneasy, but considering the chaos that was about to unfold, he couldn’t fault them for wanting some way to coordinate with the superhumans here. Looking back at the four ‘veterans’ so to speak addressing the crowd, he couldn’t help but feel some anxiety. Now, he had been asked more than a few times in a couple different situations, ‘Aren’t you afraid?’. Even in a situation like this, where death was more likely than survival, and survival was not technically ‘alive’, he couldn’t say that he was. Anxiety, impatience, a small amount of anger, but fear? He couldn’t say that he was afraid of the abhorrent, more akin to annoyed by it. Which struck even Kayle as odd as he reflected inwardly for a moment.

He remembered the conversation he had with the changer just moments ago, and found himself wondering why, at this specific time, he had chosen that route over outright ignorance? Maybe he was more prideful than he liked to admit. Why, at this specific time, he looked at others with contempt rather than compassion or understanding. Maybe he was more closed off than he liked to admit. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly and bringing himself back in line with his mentality, that of someone who would take that extra step when no one else would. Morality be damned, he had a job to do.

When Legend started talking more about the abhorrent, he realized his chances of being able to do something to the creature itself dropped to zero. With the radiation threat, not only would his chains refuse to manifest in any proper capacity, due to a weakness to radiation he found out a couple years ago against a particularly nasty villain, but with a limited time frame to find his doc after contact, the radiation itself would most likely kill him before he could do anything. Everything else was more or less in the realm of possibility to deal with though. The ability to control light made things a bit difficult, but if you were 75 feet tall with a tail spanning several dozen city blocks, being invisible didn’t really help much.

Kayle cracked his knuckles, one at a time out of a sense of keeping his hands busy. He wouldn’t be able to fight Tangle directly, but he could keep the plants at bay, prevent collateral damage and escort any potential injured capes or civilians away from the fight. He would have to be mindful of the radiation aura though, the closer he got the less effective he would be. That could be said for any number of capes, but for him especially. To be honest, having heard about it now, Kayle couldn’t help but feel a sense of uselessness wash over him as he realized he wasn’t going to necessarily be part of the effort pushing Tangle back. He bit the inside of his cheek a bit, more out of indignity than anything else.

As if the whole thing had been rehearsed, the moment Legend was done filling them in, the sound of destruction forced everyone’s head to whip to the source. There, somehow appearing as if from thin air, Tangle sat like a budding flower filled with murderous intent. Like some scene out of a monster movie, it turned to face them, unleashing a shriek that made even Kayle wince in pain at the thought of it. Instantly capes were moving to perform whatever tasks they thought they could do, while Kayle was part of the group running away. His chains burst from his form, impacting the ground and lifting him into the air as he propelled himself away from the conflict. Not necessarily because he was afraid, but because as he thought earlier, the radiation would render his abilities useless.

As he was floating through the air on his spider leg chains, he noticed that while some were rushing forward, others were running away, there was a group of capes standing still and not doing a damn thing in any capacity. Normally, Kayle would have chastised such behaviour. Villain or hero, this kind of thing came with the territory, but not even Kayle could fault them for being shocked into a standstill at the sight of Tangle. In fact, it was the very changer that Kayle had insulted and essentially mocked that made the first move. Picking him out of the crowd wasn’t hard as his ability to shift was...not exactly pleasant on the eyes. Having picked up some people, screaming at them to scatter. Whatever his opinions on the man, he wasn’t wrong.

Being someone capable of doing something in that instance, chains launched themselves towards the group that was still watching Tangle with nothing but either shock or fascination, grabbing as many people as he could before moving all of them a few blocks back. There was no preference in his actions, simply taking anyone who was standing still. Once he placed everyone down, he launched himself into the air again. This time, he took up a stance at roughly 4 stories, watching the ensuing chaos with a sense of anxiety once more. He wanted to do something, but like always, his logical side won out as he found himself simply watching for an opportunity.

It was then that a voice came from the bracelet. Looking over, listening as it listed names and statuses. So that’s what it was for. A way for people to realize just how powerful, and fruitless, this was ultimately going to be.

You didn’t need to have an empathy aura to know this wasn’t going to inspire confidence.