Necroplast

Necroplast
Author	/u/Grailsippycup
Civilian name	Brandon Perez
Alignment	Alignment::Villain Alignment::Mercenary[[Category:Alignment::Villain Alignment::Mercenary]]
Affiliation	Mafia (Devilfish)
PRT Classification	Brute
Born	(1998-07-14) July 14, 1998 Unknown / Estancia, New Mexico
Status	Active

Necroplast is pretty much a simple vagrant cape-for-hire. His appearance is publicly known, as he hasn't put much effort into concealing his body. He usually attempts to cover his face, though the dangerous roles he takes in combat combined with the indiscrimination of his power's effect have forced any mask he obtains to fail in its function oftentimes. Though he does continue covering his face, this seems to be done more-so because 'It's what capes do,' rather than any genuine attempt at preserving a secret identity. He tends towards urban environments, and the telltale sign of him being in a location previously is the presence of empty pockets of space where something solid used to be. Though known for criminal activity, his committal to his own personal code over the conflicts of heroes and villains have kept him from notable success.

Famine:

Assigned by the PRT to Rescue Team 5, Necroplast accompanies Retcon, Witness and Buckler to a multi-story school to evacuate survivors. Acting mostly as distraction in conjunction with Buckler and Retcon, the team succeeds with no casualties, largely thanks to Retcon's healing power and Witness' leadership of the support troops. Necroplast sustained heavy damage during the battle, the metal he 'borrowed' from the air base to utilize in his body replaced with chunks of glass, dirt, concrete, etc. He seemed unfazed by the events of the day both physically and mentally on the ride back.

Character Sheet

Appearance

Light brown skin, soft facial features when visible, shaved face, short dark brown messy hair, toned physique. He often doesn't bother with more clothes than he has to wear, often seen in an undershirt, shorts and any mask he can get his hands on at the time. As he's moved further and further north, the colder climates have forced him to wear warmer clothing. He still tries to keep the material thin if possible.

Equipment and Resources

Wealth: 3

Usually only carries around various metal knives on his person. At times, he will bring a backpack full of metal bars and scrap to prepare for a conflict. He travels with a pack of essentials and a burner phone.

Has accrued favors with randomly chosen people, anything from helping with groceries to saving their lives. Although he usually asks for something simple like a cigarette to use as payment if someone was dirt-poor, favors work if they had even less, or Brandon was in a hurry. Brandon has no intent of calling most of them in, but he still has numbers for people in his hometown: Estancia, New Mexico. Most of the people that owe favors are along the arbitrarily chosen path over the country he's travelled in his time as a mercenary, and maybe only one or two has any significant weight(these will not help him in Devilfish).

*Mafia Employment: $1,000/week

*Glock 43

*Kevlar Vest

Skills and Specializations

A medium familiarization with street-level criminal operations.

Mixed Martial Arts training and talent, ranging from Boxing to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.

High pain tolerance. Likely built up from constant years of fighting.

Oddly lightweight drinker.

Fairly amenable business disposition and intra-team rapport.

Mentality

Necroplast doesn't put too much stock into self-reflection. An "it is what it is" type, he often takes any job he can get within the unwritten rules' parameters. Usually utilized by employers as a living shield, he acts much like a simple thug doing a job. When between jobs or traveling, he often mingles with local civilians, offering to do small favors for those that need the help. He tends to have a temper, though, and gets into fights when pissed off(especially when he knows the other person does not have powers that overwhelm, bypass or counter his own). Necroplast seems to have no delusions of grandeur or ambitions beyond creature comforts, extending into his attitude toward his power and skills. He knows his worth and doesn't oversell it, and often gives credit to others when it doesn't affect a paycheck.

Power

Trigger: Single, Natural, First-Generation.

Whenever bodily tissue is damaged, his body automatically pulls the closest non-living solid material into the appropriate wound. The material being absorbed is compressed and compacted as much as possible to reinforce and seal the damaged part. The powered material retains the qualities of the material used to patch his body. If insufficient material of a single type does not seal a wound, then the next material will be pulled instead. This entire process is instantaneous.

On skin, this seals the break in skin and imbues the 'power scar' with the qualities of the used material. For blunt trauma, it can replace cracks in bone, or even replace shattered portions of bone. For soft tissue, it replaces ruptures in muscle and organs. As the frequency and severity of damage inflicted increases, so too does the material used on a relative scale. This behavior has caused Necroplast to survive fatal damage, although sometimes temporary complications have arisen for more complex body parts such as vital organs. This causes him to be supremely protective of his skull, for fear of brain damage with 'complications.'

The rules on what materials the power utilizes for Necroplast's body extend to Tinkertech. Because of the nature of his power, gadgets and contraptions will lose their integrity, causing them to lose functionality as the materials that comprise them are stolen away. Tinker-modified materials will retain their qualities when incorporated.

Necroplast also seems to be able to exert a minor 'shaping' to the materials absorbed during the process, able to create shapes and small weapons, and even modifying the texture. This process is difficult to do multiple times in succession, so things like fully automatically fired bullets will simply be incorporated flatly as his focus is broken up over multiple instances of damage..

In terms of recovering from wounds and the 'scars' his power leaves, his body heals at the normal rate a human being could. Exceptions apply for vital organs and dismemberment, though such superhuman recovery takes a great deal of time similar to normal damage. His power sustains his humanoid bodily form for as long as it takes to heal the wound, and only removes the 'scar' material when the part is healed and renewed.

Backstory

Brandon Perez was born in New Mexico somewhere and left on the steps of the New Mexico Baptist Children's Home. He didn't like to cause trouble at home, but went looking for it on the streets. Getting into fights and hanging with the wrong crowd, you name it. At fourteen he simply left and never came back, wandering the country and doing odd jobs, the fights of his life getting more and more serious and dangerous. He triggered at 18 in a brutal turf war in Illinois, but didn't seem to change his behavior. This is his story, and he seems content with that. He's been moving north recently, and figures that since he hit the border, maybe its time to make something a little more sustainable before he really can't handle the cold.

Trigger

It was supposed to be a simple brawl. One side would beat the hell out of the other and they would be free to lick their wounds and come back another day. What it wasn't supposed to be was a fucking war. The first gunshot cracked, igniting the storm of metal and blood that came after. Brandon didn't even have time to get his own pocket knife before he was gutted by 6 inches of stainless steel. His guts spilled out, and Brandon was left to desperately try and hold them in, pooling crimson beneath him. The kicking boots and shoes kept him from ripping off his clothes to staunch the wound, bruising a dying man. The last things he remembered were his knuckles turning white with the strain of pressuring the wound before white-hot lead was fired into his spine. He woke up entirely fine, in a hole where the street used to be, his abdomen lined in concrete.