Fable

Fable
Reputation	Notoriety Criminal /
Author	Dominus_Khan (capes)
Pronouns	He/Him
Civilian name	Adrian Connors
Alignment	Villain
Affiliation	None (Denver)
Age	22
Status	Active
Nationality	British American
Approver	UnknownMercury & Nashoid
Trigger Type	Single Standard Trigger

Civilian Attire.

Publicly Available Information

Fable isn't very noteworthy amongst the public, his years of experience as a stranger and master has made it easier for him to go unnoticed.

PRT / Government Information

Fable hasn't have many encounters with the PRT and Protectorate but they are aware he is some type of master but they have no specifics on his power.

Costume Appearance

Features a sleek black suit tailored to perfection, complemented by a crisp white collar and a matching black tie. A black top hat perched atop the wearer's head, black gloves adorn the hands. A faceless black mask with vertical white lines.

Civilian Appearance

Adrian Connors stands at 5'10" with an athletic build honed with strength and experience. He has rich brown skin contrasted with icy blue eyes. Adrian has short black hair.

Mentality

Adrian is described as a loner who appreciates his privacy and his own self interests. He prefers to take a subtle approach to a problem but has no qualms with taking a direct route to engage it. Adrian is clever and opportunistic, showing a devious cunning when the situation calls for it.

Adrian keeps to a strong code of ethics and morals, he doesn't kill unless he is forced to do so. Andre understands the value of secrecy, finding it to be a useful quality against his enemies. He prefers to remain subtle and underestimated. This makes him content to remain a D lister villain, who isn't memorable at all.

Skills & Training

• Stealth (Expert)
• Close Combat (Novice)
• Agile/Acrobatic (Expert)
• Parkourist (Expert)
• Intelligence (Expert)
• Book Smart (Novice)
• Knife Thrower (Novice)
• Thrower(Expert)

Resources & Wealth

• Apartment, 50 Thousand Dollars.
• Job As An Informant And Thief
• Motorcycle

Equipment & Gear

• Combat Knife, Taser, and Pocket Knife
• Crossbow
• Throwing Knives

Parahuman Power

Stranger/Thinker(Trump)

Fable can dampen and limit any sense or perception used to perceive/gain information on him whether it's human or non-human. As he depowers a sense his own senses and processing are increases.

Dampening

When being perceived by a *sense* like natural human senses, emotional detection, telepathy, precognition, or any sense that grants information on him. The sense being used steadily decays over time the longer Fable is perceived by it.

His form will become distorted and difficult to receive obvious details on. Like his height, gender, costume, or what he is armed with. Any noise he makes becomes harder to discern and directly distinguish, his scent is near odorless, and touching him is like tracing your hand on a thin strand of hair no matter how much you grab. After 3 rounds of exposure to Fable the sense being used can no longer be effective against him. When the target stops using that sense against Fable for even a second, the dampening resets.

When powers are involved and since they tend to vary, Fable can only weaken that sense to the point where he becomes a blindspot to it. Fable can choose to make his ability act in subtle ways to confuse the senses but at the cost of having his dampening time increased to 6 rounds, subtle changes include some level of difficulty making out Fable's costume, appearance, one could easily not hear his footsteps if they aren't paying attention, smelling him requires a deeper inhale, and touching him is like touching an ice cube.

Sense Empowerment

Fable can increase his own natural senses while he is dampening others. His perceptions are increased, processing, reflexes, eyesight, hearing, smell, touch and taste. They become 4x better than a peak human. He also knows the exact location of the targets he's effecting.

Weakness

When it comes to recording devices, Fable is left vulnerable. Electronics can track him without issue, however if that electronic device is being operated or used by something Fable can affect, he will only be able to know the location of that person.

Background & Trigger

There was once a boy who was told to write a hundred words by his family, each word had to define him and who he wanted to be. They were a wealthy family of four, a mother, a father, an older sister and a younger brother. Their ideology prioritized success before comfort and happiness. These were the standards set by the matriarch of the household, it was believed that her grasp upon them was ironclad, immovable, unyielding, and oppressing.

The mother didn't believe herself to be cruel or unfair, because since when was it cruel to want to see your heir and heiress succeed. But she certainly wasn't forgiving, showcasing weakness or a vulnerability meant others can exploit that flaw for their own gain. The mother and her mother before her only knew reward and punishment acquired results. Her children knew that and were taught that accordingly…even her husband. She never laid a hand on her children, physical punishments taught nothing but violence. No, what she needed to imprint was discipline without that her children would grow to be feeble and dependent.

Study hall, she called it, a small room that was organized and proper, with snow white walls and floors, no windows, only two desks and a simple white board. A place to study what they had learned in their classes at a private school. It started out simple for them both, copy the notes you wrote down in class on the whiteboard while their mother watches, then they could leave. It wasn't hard for the brother, and the same for the sister.

They performed this task under their mother's watchful gaze every day. Until one day the routine broke, the little brother had dropped a letter grade in a class. His mother wasn't angry, sad, or disappointed…

She just adjusted.

Copy every note you took on the whiteboard three times, then you may leave. It took him an hour to finish that task as his mother watched, it was almost unnerving how his mother could just stand there without a hint of exhaustion. Everything was fine until dinner came.

He was told every question he answered correctly would earn him three bites from his food. He thought it was a joke at first but his mother didn't even flinch at the insinuation. He gave his sister and father a look, they were unresponsive to this declaration as they ate. In the end he only earned six bites.

The next day came and it was the same for breakfast. For each correct answer he gets two spoonfuls of his favorite cereal. When he attended his classes that day, his mind couldn't be taken off the hunger he felt. It delayed his thought process which affected his note taking.

When he came home he reluctantly told his mother that he couldn't copy all the notes she expected him to. Once again there was that gaze, it was so apathetic..so wrong on a mother's face. The little brother didn't like it, he wanted the gaze to stop.

The same 'lessons' were repeated, but there was an addition. Every correct question earned him 3 hours of sleep, each one he got wrong would lead to the matriarch waking him at the dead of night then having him write down notes in study hall for 30 minutes under her watch.

Days upon days, months upon months the lessons never ceased. They would slow when the heir made progress in his classes.

Each time he entered the study hall the room got an inch smaller, the dull whiteness of the room was a weight on his mind. His mother hosted private sessions, ones where his sister wasn't involved and was put in a separate room from himself.

He was alone with her… Stuck with that look… Trapped in that empty space with no other sign of life except his mother's measured breaths…

His body would go on autopilot as it wrote on the whiteboard, while his mind was hyper aware of every single detail of the room. It kept getting smaller he knew, the walls wanted to crush him, his mother wanted him to fail so she could impose more lessons..more hours into this endless routine. Why wasn't his father and sister helping him.he wondered? They knew where he was, where he was trapped. Yet they never helped him. His sister wouldn't lend a hand to assist him, his father was deaf to his pleas.

He wanted to stop being at the center of it all.

Trigger

The child triggered at the age of 15 in front of his mother, she saw what the monster she had twisted him into, what a year of breaking him down and building him up again did. She had gotten what she wanted, she now had his full attention…but she can no longer say the same.

As she watched her son weep over his wretched state. The matriarch wondered…which lesson didn't stick?