|Civilian name||Teresa Mason|
|PRT Classification||Mover, Striker/Brute (Shaker)|
February 13, 2002|
|Black Diamond C | Rebar F | Scoria D | Warlock D|
Nothing is really known about Rebar publicly at this point, aside from the occasional boot-print in solid concrete or half-melted hollowed-out computer in a dumpster being noticed and commented on.
Those who actually know about Rebar, the services that she offers and her willingness to be a kneebreaker for money, would most likely know her as a blunt instrument, a geokinetic brute with near-suicidal confidence in a "connection to the earth" which enables her to smash through a brick wall like it's made of drywall and actively walk through gunfire as bullets deform against her skin like droplets of water.
Teresa's a tall, scrawny college dropout in her early twenties, perpetually disheveled and deathly pale, with her blonde hair typically put up in a messy bun and a pair of glasses framing tired-looking gray eyes.
Rebar is a hulking figure wrapped in stone and metal, bulky armored sections (clearly debris crushed into place over her limbs) adding several inches to her height, durable clothing with metal plates sewn in to cover where her armor doesn't, and a helmet made out of metal physically molded into shape (with prescription lenses fitted into the eyeholes) secured to her head and decorated with metal accents. Her entire outfit is streaked with solidified earth and other materials.
Equipment and Resources
Teresa's a broke college dropout currently living in a shitty apartment complex who's working in a bookstore to get by, not even owning a car in order to get around, limited to taking public transportation. Wealth Level: 3
- Cheap pottery supplies
- Several small jars completely filled with metal using her powers, for use in costume
- Cheap burner phone
Skills and Specializations
- Was on track to get an engineering degree pre-trigger, still retains a lot of that knowledge
- Learning how to make pottery and work with clay, because it could be useful with her powerset
- Taking boxing lessons at a nearby gym
An unstable mess of a person, still reeling from the aftermath of her trigger and the utter failure she became. Puts on an air of strength and confidence while in costume, trying to seem as strong as her name would indicate while hiding her true capabilities.
Rebar is a cluster cape, her primary power being a form of short-ranged teleportation allowing her to instantly change her body's position while remaining in the same general area, not covering much distance with individual teleports but able to be chained to enable her to cut out the movement between steps, throw punches without any sort of windup, etc., easily able to reach speeds up to 30 feet per second. Being a form of teleportation, moving this way doesn't maintain or involve any force or momentum, immediately cancelling any momentum Rebar has when used, requiring her to move normally to attack with any sort of force.
In addition, she can snap to a position regardless of if doing so would cause her to intersect with an object, including people and other living things, the result being that she harmlessly phases through where things overlap, being slowly pushed out until the two are separated.
Her secondary powers are:
- The ability to attract solid inorganic materials within five feet, twisting and crushing them into rough gauntlets and boots in order to add weight and mass to attacks. The gauntlets only cover her limbs, leaving her head and torso exposed, but could be used to parry attacks if positioned correctly, roughly equivalent to IIIA body armor. Visually, materials affected by this power glow slightly, phantasmal lines leading from her body to whatever she's about to integrate, with the effect fading once the final result is fully-formed.
- A striker effect that briefly softens inorganic materials on contact, proportional to the force exerted on/by the material she's touching, activating automatically when hit by something as fast or faster than a thrown baseball. Low-caliber bullets hit like paintballs as they liquefy against her skin, bruising and potentially causing internal damage without penetrating, she can scoop handfuls of solid rock or metal as if it was clay, able to dent and break things she otherwise wouldn't, etc. She can deliberately channel the effect through the armor generated by her other secondary power to augment her hits, but it won't be covered by the defensive portion of the effect.
Rebar, from her position atop the roof of the nightclub, could see the car pull up. Masked figures, a cape and some goons with guns. Clearly after her client.
Gesturing towards the pre-prepared pile of bricks and other detritus, a cinderblock tears free from the pile and smashes against her open palm, followed by two more, several lengths of rebar, and various other parts, turning her arm into a blunt striking tool that's at least ten pounds heavier as they bend and break to fit together. Soon after, her other limbs are similarly armored.
The mosaic of potential positions in her head flickers into focus as she takes several steps in fractions of a second, eerily silent despite her bulk as she simply appears at the end of each movement.
She steps off the roof, taking a second to keep herself upright in the middle of her descent, interrupting her momentum and allowing her to safely crash to the ground below, the sound of her impact muffled as the earth turns to mud beneath her feet.
The goons turn, surprised, and she flickers into a running stance, one step, two, ten.
Her swing smashes apart the front of the first guy's gun in a spray of metal and plastic, shrapnel splattering against the surroundings as he stumbles back--
A bullet slams into the side of her helmet, pain flashing through her head as she's hit in the cheek, the force of the hit knocks her to one side--
And she's on her feet again. She snaps into a position that's lower to the ground, and does it again, and again, sinking into the earth with only her eyes visible, moving erratically as she heads towards the second goon...who is wielding a shotgun--
She manages to get her arm up just in time to block the shot that would've otherwise hit her in the head, the gun barks, blowing through her armor and stinging against her arm. She curses in pain, moving up to grab him by the throat with her now-free arm, the remnants of the armor sloughing off as she slams her still-armored arm into the weapon in his hands as hard as she can, destroying yet another gun and breaking several of the man's fingers. When she lets go, he drops like a stone, clearly in pain.
Two down. One t-
The fireball slams into her back, singeing the fabric of her costume and heating up the metal uncomfortably hot, luckily not powerful enough to melt through it or do any significant damage despite her relative lack of protection.
In an instant, she's facing him. The cape. The one she fucking forgot about, like a dumbass. He readies another fireball. She starts moving, dashing forwards, steps started and ended almost simultaneously.
He tries to throw the flame at her, but she repositions to one side, then through and behind him.
Her fingers poke through his neck, the massive chunk of stone on her other arm visibly phasing through his chest.
"Surrender, or I cave in your skull. Asshole."
He puts his hands up, she pulls her arm back and casually scoops off some of the material from around her upper thigh, a good mix of metal and shards of brick, molding it into a blob in her hand.
"Hands together, please. Gotta make sure you're not gonna barbeque my paycheck. You can go free in a bit, after this."
She encases his hands in softened stone and metal, which quickly hardens.
And then she takes him to meet her boss.
Teresa was always the smart kid, always the one who would do great things. First person in their family to go to college, she'd get her degree, change the world, expectations hanging over her head like a guillotine's blade.
As to be expected, because of this she quickly became a panicky perfectionist, anxiety incarnate, determined to ace every class and earn that praise, prove to herself that she deserved it. She was a diamond forged under pressure with a dense core of caffeine pills and coffee, hands shaking as she checked her grades day after day, scrambling to reach and maintain perfection. Her prospects would be better that way, she told herself.
Months passed in a shaky blur, her gaze fixed firmly on the future, on success.
Her brother, after noticing that she'd passed out while studying for the third time that week, decided that they were going to the amusement park. No more studying, no more books, at least for today. She was burning out, it was as obvious as if she'd literally caught fire.
Some fun would be good for her.
Stress and lack of sleep could affect her performance, he told her, after she'd had her little nap. It was the only thing he knew would convince her, so she hesitantly agreed, and off they went, with a few of their friends meeting them once they arrived. Teresa was nervous about this, of course, but after some funnel cake and a few rides she was happy to go along with things.
Then her brother suggested trying out the largest, fastest rollercoaster in the whole park, and she got dizzy just looking at it. It took some more convincing, but she decided to go on the ride. He'd be right next to her if she got too scared, and one of their friends would be behind him, everything would be fine. So off they went, the turns and dips were as terrifying as they were exhilarating, she kept a white-knuckled grip on the safety bars keeping her in place.
Then the cart got to the largest drop on the ride, so high up that everything else looked like insects from her view.
A tremor rocked the park. The ride shook, metal swaying and creaking. She looked at her brother, and the expression of sudden fear on his face.
Less than a second passed before they were hurtling downward, the tremors getting worse and worse as the car of the ride accelerated, screams of excitement turning to terror as they took a turn, the ride visibly shaking apart in a few places--
And then the cart ripped free from the track, metal buckling as their momentum launched them over several other rides, the car flipping and twirling nauseatingly. Overwhelmed with pure panic, she frantically tried to free herself, despite being unable to, tried reaching towards her brother, logic overwhelmed with the need to get out, get away, as soon as possible, despite the fact that she couldn't move.
She saw the tree they were heading towards, inevitable death rushing towards her and she still couldn't get out of the w-
The next few seconds passed in a blur. She clipped through the back of the cart, unintentionally dragging part of the metal with her as the cart *kept going* without her, and she fell to the ground. Metal buckled, screams quickly cut off as the cart accordioned into itself, viscera and shrapnel splattering against her.
She stood, uncomprehending, for a second, adrenaline and panic numbing her thoughts, before it clicked.
She scrambled to get over to the wreckage, using her newfound powers to cut out unnecessary travel time, she needed to get there, needed to get her brother out.
Metal gave way beneath her as she ripped the back of the cart open, began frantically digging through it, the dead surrounding her as she plundered the newly-made coffin.
Where was his head?
That was the last thing she remembered before waking up at the hospital, seeing her parents' faces. She was lucky to have survived, relatively uninjured as well, considering the state of things.
She asked where her brother was, and the relieved atmosphere in the room evaporated immediately. She asked again. Her mother broke down, sobbing as she hugged her.
She went back to school. What else could she do? She couldn't snap her fingers and undo the fact that they went to the goddamn amusement park the day an earthquake hit it. She couldn't bring him back.
All her powers let her do was break, destroy, rip and tear. Useless, terrible reminders of how she survived and he didn't. She told nobody, let them think she'd survived by chance.
So her family simmered in their grief. The ashes were buried, life went on. She threw herself even further into her studies to get away from the memories of that day, began to fall asleep in class because she'd pull consecutive all-nighters to try and get back into things, she couldn't grieve now that she was all her family had left.
The sea of Fs at the end of the semester was what finally broke her.
She needed to get away, needed to clear her head away from the constant reminders and pressure. She wanted to disappear. So she picked up a map of the state and threw a dart.