Cumulus Girl
| Cumulus Girl | |
|---|---|
 | |
| Author | /u/PM_ME_UR_SIMURGH |
| Civilian name | Elizabeth Sophie Delaney |
| Alignment | Hero |
| Affiliation | None (Devilfish) |
| PRT Classification | Tinker (Shaker) |
| Born |
September 13, 2004 Minneapolis, Minnesota |
| Status | Active |
Minnesota was shocked by news of the tragic murder of beloved Minneapolis veteran Thunderbird, however PHO is full of rumors alleging that Thunderbird's daughter, a young woman with similar weather control powers, is running around Devilfish.
She is not a fan of her cape name.
Character Sheet
Appearance
Sophie is a young woman with blue eyes and copper-colored hair kept in a ponytail most of the time. Calling her small for her age would be very generous. She tends to move around gingerly; on a good day she walks with a bit of a limp while on a bad day she can’t get far without the help of a carved wooden cane. She tends to dress in muted flannels and jeans, although a dress isn’t entirely out of the question should the situation call for it.
Her cape costume has been described as "pyrokinetic lesbian knight" which is on-brand for what she's going for. There's a conspicuous absence of a mask or other such method of hiding her identity.
Equipment and Resources
- PRT-issue panic button (issued to her civ identity)
- Bougie-ass car (GT-R Protectorate Edition) with prismatic navy blue paint scheme.
The Nissan GT-R Protectorate Edition was a limited-production run in 2015, with 48 cars produced and offered solely to a select few members of the world's largest hero team. Features include reinforced undercarriage, bullet-resistant windows, class III NUCLEUS-certified hardened electronics, and a hermetically-sealed cabin with up to 40 minutes of bottled oxygen supply. PRT property (lights and siren, commlink, tracking beacon, and other classified technology) has been removed.
- Lives with her father in a p bougie high-rise apartment downtown (GPMC Center).
- Most of her late mother's assets are held in trust until she turns 18, which will bump her to WL 7
- Connections™ with the Minneapolis Protectorate/Wards, more-or-less.
- Dad's a shop teacher at school, and she has a key to the machine shop which she totally doesn't sneak into late at night to do tinkering.
Tinkertech
Skills and Specializations
- Mad skills at forecasting the weather
- Has passed PRT qualifications for self-defence training
- Talented pianist
Mentality
Sophie wasn’t ever the most talkative person, and being shot several times by some yahoo with an assault rifle and spending every day since in some form of pain didn’t exactly help with things. She’s always looking for hidden details or tells, almost to the point of rudeness. When she’s struck with a problem, her go-to is to sit down, look it over, and think out an answer. When she can’t do that, well, who knows what she’ll do.
Power
Trigger type: Single, second-generation natural trigger
Cumulus Girl (:v) is a Tinker with the ability to collect, harness, and control weather phenomena. She can use tech to skim aspects of local weather into pseudo-batteries that can then be used as charges for more conventional tinkertech to give it certain properties. This skimming process does not create easily-observable changes in weather patterns, but specific Thinkers may be able to track down minuscule anomalies to her tech.
Notably, she must be careful, as interference from multiple weather "types" can cause unintended interactions. As an abstract example, having, say, a Hot device running while a Cold device is fired could result in it firing Storm (Hot+Cold) instead. This may or may not be intentional. Due to the vast number of possible interactions, this is mostly determined on the fly, and in the event of a dispute an Approver should arbitrate the power interaction.
Backstory
Welcome to Parahumans Online
'You are logged in as: Damsel-In-Shining-Armor (Cape daughter - Verified)'
You have 156 unread messages.
Thread Title: I miss you so much
Posted in: Boards > Misc > Vent Corner
I never thought it was weird, not at first. Mom and Dad always told me I couldn't talk about Mom's job, no matter how much I wanted to. I thought to myself, of course I can keep the family secret, just like all the other girls at school kept their family secret quiet. Until, of course, I realized I was the only one who had that secret.
My mom was a hero. Not just any hero, one of the first. Before the Protectorate was a thing, she was striking down villains with bolts of lightning and turning gun runners into human popsicles. That was why most people called her a hero. But that wasn't why she was my hero.
She'd come home, late at night, after Dad had tucked me into bed, still in her costume. I was supposed to be asleep, of course, but I never was; I always stayed up to make sure I wouldn't miss her. I'd beg for her to tell me how many bad guys she'd gotten, and she'd smile, and give me a number, and I'd beg to hear how. And sometimes she'd tell me a wild story. But sometimes she'd promise to tell me later, a later that never came. When I got older, I understood why, but as a kid, I was always disappointed.
Instead, on those bad days, she'd tell me about what it was like before capes, before the Exclusion Zone, before everything I'd known. She'd talk about how our home used to be like other homes in other cities. She'd talk about going to the mall without having to carry a taser, about walking through a park without checking a dosimeter, that kind of thing. It's a life I've never known, and none of my classmates knew, but all the grown-ups held on to like life preservers.
I get it now.
She did everything she could to prepare me. Told me up front that one day, I'd become something like her. I'd get powers, and I'd get to be a hero too. I asked how she got her powers. She told me, and I wasn't so sure anymore. But it would happen, it always happens to cape kids. So she helped me prepare. She taught me how to save a life, she taught me how to cope with ending one. How to give myself a second face, a second persona, how to make sure that nobody would ever figure out who I was behind the mask I would one day wear.
Of course, I hated her for it. I think part of me still does, despite everything. Most kids dreamed of being a superhero, and I just dreamed of being normal. hashtag notlikeothergirls, I know. But it was true. She'd come home from a patrol, if she was lucky the sun was still up, and she'd spend the rest of that night putting me through my paces, and then I'd go to bed exhausted and try to ignore her and Dad yelling. He'd scream about how she was a piece of shit who loved wearing a cape more than her family, which was funny because he was the one who left, but whatever.
I think that was when it changed, for both of us. We found ways to spend more time together, one way or another. I'd ride along on patrols, doing my homework in the passenger seat talking about whatever, and then the radio would buzz and I'd get to watch through bulletproof glass while she beat the shit out of a rapist. Then we'd go back to chatting like nothing changed.
I was there when it happened. We'd stopped by a checkpoint to have lunch with this indie hero who she'd been seeing (ugh) and... suddenly I'm in pain, and she's laying there, and... And that was that. Gone in an instant.
I was in a coma during the funeral. Saw it on Youtube afterwards. I wish I could've said goodbye. I'm still not sure what I would have said, I keep thinking about it and the words keep fizzling out halfway through. Just staring at a notebook and four hours later it's crumpled up balls of paper on the ground.
She should still be here. We should be at home on her day off, inhaling takeout Chinese and hatewatching terrible movies. I should be making disgusted noises when she mentions her "friend" (UGH) would be staying the night. Instead, I'm sitting in an empty house wondering how I'm going to do this. How I'm going to be the daughter she raised me to be, when I don't feel even remotely ready despite everything.
But I know she'd want me to try.