|Civilian name||Julia Naismith|
|PRT Classification||Blaster (Shaker,Mover)|
December 1, 2005|
|Black Diamond C | Scoria D | Warlock D|
A video, the footage low-quality and obscured by clouds of dust, shows a teenage girl flailing and trying to run as the sand explodes around her, her screaming about assassins and the laughter of the cameramen audible under the pops of the fireworks buried along the beach....before it all goes to hell, glowing orange dust and black orbs materializing in the air, slamming into her surroundings like cannon fire as everything goes off. High-pitched screaming sounds out as one of the cameramen is hit, the view shifting abruptly as everyone else turns to run. The video cuts out abruptly from there. Since the video was posted, online speculation has ran with it, the name Warlock quickly catching on because of the obvious pun and how the subject of the video seemingly pulled ordinance from nowhere.
Civ: Julia's a tall and slender teenage girl, with the kind of skinny frame and pale complexion that just screams "the only exercise I do is dodging bullies", with long blonde hair and gray eyes.
Cape: Warlock's aesthetic can best be described as "dollar store witch, completely strapped", with a pointy hat, black trenchcoat spray-painted with various runes and flame designs, sections of pipe tied to her back and clinking in the beltloops of her jeans, etc. A metal mask, power-made and fitted with lenses, covers her eyes and nose.
Equipment and Resources
- A set of pipes (two small foot-long ones, one large one that could fit her whole arm through it, and one that's long and thin) she bought and spray-painted black and orange, for use with her power.
- A terrible burner phone
- A can of pepper spray, for the rare instances where cannonfire is overkill
- Her "magic tome", a notebook/diary full of her sketches about how she's figured out how to use her powers to make certain kinds of things/enable techniques like her flight. Assembled through a lot of trial and error, and something she'd be incredibly sad to lose.
Skills and Specializations
- Extremely perceptive and actually rather skilled at linking together information given. Still usually wrong, because she's a conspiracy theorist and makes leaps that derail things, but her intelligence is there underneath the crazy.
- Practiced extensively with her power, and as such she's a decent shot with both it, and most guns as well (not that she knows that) since she can relate how they work to her experiments with her own power. She isn't a skilled sharpshooter by any means, but she's far more skilled than the average teenager.
- Knows first-aid and a few other medical techniques, since she's planning on becoming a doctor after high school. Can apply a tourniquet, make a splint, sew up a wound properly, etc. Again, not very skilled at it, but she knows a little bit beyond the basics.
Genuinely believes that her powers are magic, and that she's some kind of novice pyromancer. The type of person who will spout conspiracy theories, wholly believing most of them, delusional, highly paranoid, and completely confident in her version of events being the correct one. Bitter about the events surrounding her trigger event and how she's normally treated by those around her, often lashing out in defiance as a consequence.
Trigger type: Versatile/Impact Blaster (Shaker)
She can generate and control a mildly-explosive orange dust within around fifty feet of her with a high degree of accuracy, sufficient to sketch diagrams on surfaces, detonate sections of it to launch objects with bonebreaking force (though she can control the intensity of the ignition and thus the force behind whatever's launched), or create sustained flares of fire with a decent degree of power behind them, which can be used to toss herself around or fly at roughly twenty miles an hour, though it takes a bit of concentration to maintain and she has to be careful about landings, considering that she can create propulsion, but doesn't have a way to protect against hard falls.
In addition, she can create metal projectiles, capping out at roughly the size and shape of a cannonball. She doesn't control them directly, but can freely decide their shape and size (creating darts, solid/hollow spheres, rifled slugs, etc.) within her limits, and can use the dust she generates to manipulate/launch them at various speeds, blunted ones able to crack bone and sharper projectiles easily able to puncture through skin and muscle, though they'd probably have trouble with a bulletproof vest and other types of armor.
Both Warlock's dust and her generated projectiles function under the effect of altered physics/physical properties, leaning towards increased concussive force at the expense of most other effects, including penetrating power and maximum damage (for the metal, she could easily knock around a solid sphere as if it was a baseball, but a point-blank cannonball wouldn't do nearly enough damage as an actual cannon, and they generally bounce off of more durable surfaces), as well as heat, light, and the blastwave for the dust explosions (so one going off next to someone might toss them around, but it's not going to blind them or pop their eardrums).
Julia had it all figured out.
Ms. Wilkinson in English? Vampire. It was obvious. That deathly pallor, the way she could just…stare at people disapprovingly, without blinking. How she was always tired.
Ammonite, the “tinker” wearing a skinsuit? Obviously an alien running from the space-police.
Of course, her investigation into the truth hasn’t left her with many friends…the opposite, usually. People harassing her, avoiding her…until recently, that is. A couple of her classmates heard about her insights and ability to figure out what’s really going on, and over the past few weeks they all uncovered something. A conspiracy that could destabilize the city as a whole, if it was exposed, a shadowy cabal managing everything from the mafia to the local Protectorate, bending everything to their whims. Something that’d give her the recognition she deserves, that’d finally prove her right.
Everything pointed towards one place, the spot for their next meeting, next to the lake. Julia prepared extensively, and when the time came, they all rushed onto the beach, cameras and recording equipment at the ready…
Only for nobody to be there. What? What was–
“Take the shot.”
She feels hands on her back, someone shoving her forwards, and she falls to the sand as something pops right next to her, sending sand billowing everywhere.
She panics. Assassins? They were in league with the cabal this whole time! But why–
Another shot slams into the sand next to her hand, and she scrambles back, the popping of gunfire hitting the beach almost drowning out the sound of laughter. They’re laughing at her. Why the hell are they laughing? Where is any of this coming from?
She tries to run, and a shot hits the ground next to her foot, sending her to the ground again, coughing in a cloud of dust.
More shots pepper the sand around her, something stings against her leg, and she blacks out for a moment, as it sinks in that she’s about to die.
She snaps out of it, screaming in panic and fear, pulling at something she doesn’t understand as a cloud of glowing dust materializes around her, awareness blossoming in her mind. She needs something, anything, to fight back, heavy iron slugs popping into existence in the middle of what she now understands is a cloud of propellant. With a thought, it goes off.
Bullets pepper the sand, slam into rocks, one of her would-be killers screams in agony as one snaps his shin like a twig, buckling and slamming into the sand beneath him as the rest of them scatter.
What did she just…they were trying to kill her, it’s…what’s going on?
Fireworks, buried in the goddamn sand.
Fireworks. Under. The. Sand.
She managed to wake up the guy she hit, calling an ambulance after getting the truth out of him.
It was all a fucking prank. They were going to record her flailing around, messing with the crazy girl, like everyone does. The others were going to put it on the internet, get millions of views. Set her up, watch her squirm, laugh as she thinks she’s about to die.
She materializes a spike of solid metal, then three more, smashing apart his cameras, before walking off.