From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
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Creators’ disclaimer: This was the first villain created on my account, from the outset I wanted to make a dangerously psychotic madman. But once I finished the costume and entered the game I had to sit back and think. Who the hell removes his own brainpan and sticks tubes all over his head? Someone who’s not really living in the real world is who, and the character concept quickly changed into a clearly delusional and quite laughable madman.
Yes, the character is stark raving mad. Yes, he’s rather silly, but with silliness comes a certain deep level of madness. He is fun, but he does have some depth in his character as well.
Inspired by Invader ZIM. Ingenious!
Niles Mortor is what most people would call a total failure, he however consider himself to be the most brilliant scientist to ever stalk the earth. But the fact remains, whatever mad schemes or plans he concocts usually ends up as complete and utter crap.
This self proclaimed doctor used to be just your averaged failed university dropout until he had a, in his own mind, brilliant idea. He somehow gained access to a bone fragment from Albert Einstein. From the bones stem cells he grew a batch of brain cells in the hopes that he would gain the scientific brilliance of the deceased genius. Totally missing the point that growing new brain cells is an act in genius in itself Niles threw together an automated medical robot to perform the necessary modification on his own brain. Lots of tubes and icky fluids later, Niles Mortor, doctor extraordinaire, had replaced most of his own brain cells with those of Albert Einstein.
Unfortunately this didn’t have the desired effect, instead of boosting his intelligence to galactic levels the necrotic energies pumping through his brain tapped a conduit to the netherworld.
The result of this is that ever single thing Niles touches after this day gets corrupted and twisted by the netherworld, for instance, the super soldier serum he devised, turned the poor bastards he used as test subjects to zombies. The unfortunate hero he bought, chained and ready, off of ebay, became a Grave Knight.
Of course, in his eyes they are still the perfected and ultimate soldiers.
Apparently mixing arsenic and nightshade plant extract does not create super soldiers. No matter how much mutagen one puts into the mixture. What it does create are bumbling zombies with low to none impulse control.
After the first super soldier, or zombie if you want to live in the real world and not the one of a crazed scientist, Doctor Mortor proclaimed the serum a complete and utter success, and readily injected it into anyone he could get to stand still long enough. Vise people keep their arms armoured in the doctors vincinity.
There seem to be no end to the number of zombies under his control, they tend to die in droves once they get going, only to be replaced almost instantly with new ones. Doctor Mortor used to try to name them all, but gave up when the average life expectancy of a zombie went below twenty seconds. Now he just calls them all Bill, Bob or Ted.
After the debacle that was the super soldier serum. Doctor Mortor went on to new heights of failure with his Improved Hero Slave Salve(Trademark pending).
He procured an unfortunate victim from a rather unethical Ebay auction. After smearing the foul smelling concotion, consisting in parts of snake venom, crystalised cyanide and eye of newt, you can never have too much eye of newt, all over the poor chained sods body, Doctor Mortor sat back and awaited the result.
The result was a very, very dead hero, but in some unexplainable way the soul of said unforunate hero was now under the command of Doctor Mortor and able to materialize as a grave knight, complete with armour and mean looking sword.
This particularly nasty piece of undead abomination is actually Charles, boyhood friend of Niles Mortor. The first time he came to visit the good doctor almost crapped his pants, but after a nice game of chess, and tea, with biscuits, everything was explained.
Whay back when Niles had actually bought Charles's soul, for the grand prices of a packet of cigarettes and a porno mag. Something Niles had forgotten soon after the event, but the netherworld didn't, it was a binding contract. And Niles was now stuck with a deceased friend he rather forget forever.
It would seem that replacing your own brain cells with the cloned brain cells of a dead genius has certain side effects. Something Doctor Mortor noticed shortly after removing his own brainpan and affixing several tubes and gurgly bits to his exposed brain. Apart from the slightly euphoric feeling of intimate brain surgery there was a definite sinister, maybe even malignant, influence that touched the very soul of Doctor Mortor, and forever bound him to the netherworld.
But being half-dead has never stopped a true super-genius. Doctor Mortor has quite happily started manipulating the necrotic energies that flows through his brain, in ways that they were probably never meant to be used.
Moments of Remembrance
What now follows are a some stories of certain more or less life changing events that has occured throughout the lifetime of Doctor Mortor.
Pigs are for science! SCIENCE!
Right after arriving for the first time in Paragon City, Niles Mortor acquired a small lab of his own. His fellow scientists at G.I.F.T thought it was best to be rid of him and his inane ramblings, so they set him up with a ramshackle locale in King's Row. All this was of course before Niles became a doctor, had his epiphany and decided that super soldiers were the way to go.
Shortly afterwards, reports of missing pigs started to trickle into police stations all over Paragon City, now, a missing pig is no big deal in a city where there are villains on almost every street corner, or so you would think. There is apparently a super hero for every crime, so soon The Piggy Liberator  was on the case.
After lots of digging and oinking the Piggy Liberator and his network of contacts had some scraps of evidence that linked the pig disappearances to a certain laboratory in King's Row. Most of this evidence was in the way of a requisition form for ten tons of high quality pig food, signed by Niles Mortor.
In true superhero style the Piggy Liberator rushed to the presumed crime scene, threw open the door and zoned in. After fighting his way through two floors of unexplained Hellion gang members he finally reached the laboratory proper. There he was met by a horrific sight, there were pigs everywhere, dead pigs, live pigs, half pigs, zombie pigs, stuffed pigs, spider pigs, there was even one single super soldier pig, it looked rather confused.
Amidst all the pigs, cages and food were non other that Niles Mortor, he was busy sawing a scared looking pig in half, while humming the lyrics to ‘War Pigs’ to himself.
The Piggy Liberator was shell shocked; he could do nothing but to bellow his battle cry in anger and frustration “Never fear, the Piggy Liberator is here! Oink oink oink!” it went.
This made Niles Mortor stop his vivisection and question the interruption of his very important work, an exchange of words was had and questions were raised as to the meaning of this clear case of pig torture. An explanation was given, but it was summarily rejected and followed by further questions and objections to the perturbed torture of pigs. Further explanation was given, ending with the quite logical exclamation: “Pigs are for science! SCIENCE!”
Apparently this wasn't something that everyone agrees with, definately not the Piggy Liberator. With a howl he launched himself towards the cause of all his ire, Niles Mortor. Who promptly turned around and fled as fast as he could. Unfortunately Niles slipped on a pig's spleen, carelessly discarded on the floor and the Piggy Liberator bore down upon him like a demon of furious piggy vengeance.
After an arrest involving a fair bit of violence Niles Mortor was sent to the Zig and declared: rather unstable.
Are you really a doctor?
When someone who has strange tubes attached to his exposed brain is talking to you, you tend to only notice certain things, like green fluid, brain, tubes, and similar icky stuff. Keeping track of a conversation can be hard when the brain of the person you are talking to goes gurgle in regular intervals. This led to Niles Mortor having some trouble getting people to listen to him, and more importantly getting people to do what he wanted.
However Niles soon came up with the perfect solution to his problem, he simply replaced his own first name with the most trustworthy word in the English language. Thus he had become Doctor Mortor.
After this stroke of brilliance Niles decided that he would never resort to using his old, obviously useless name anymore, he would forever be known as only Doctor Mortor, and everyone would listen to what he said. It was perfect.
He discarded all of the old worthless things that identified him as Dr. Niles Mortor, things like all those crummy diplomas from Oxford and that honorary crap that MIT had sent him. Doctor Mortor never really understood why there was a Dr. in front of his name; he certainly wasn’t a drive of any sort.
He thought about capitalising the t in Mortor as well, after more than one person had compared his name to some strange country he’d never heard about before, just so people would get the point. But since he’d already ordered five thousand new calling cards he decided against it. Ironically enough the calling card printers had put a d where there should be none.
The entity known as Chesster began its life as a quite normal harlequin doll, albeit a very ugly one. This small doll was rotting away slowly in a shoddy stand in a run down carnival until one day when a certain Doctor Mortor mistimed his super jump and crashed down into the stall, almost impaling himself on a plastic version of the Eiffel tower. After picking himself up, and hitting the annoying stall owner, who for some reason took offence to the chance meeting with the great Doctor Mortor, repeatedly in the face. Doctor Mortor caught a glance of the doll in the corner of his eye, and it immediately caught his fancy.
Something with the way it looked was tantalizing, and it mesmerized Doctor Mortor, he quickly looked around, spotted the sign that said: Knock down three piles of cans, choose your own prize!
After knocking down three piles of cans, something that proved quite hard as they were all firmly glued together, Doctor Mortor chose the doll as his prize and jumped off into the sunset.
After arriving in his secret lair Doctor Mortor placed the doll in a corner and sat down and watched it for about four hours, when after all that time the doll hadn’t moved a single inch, Doctor Mortor lost interest and turned to other, more interesting experiments, like feeding his pet goldfish, Hubert.
Unfortunately Doctor Mortor mistook the bottle of fish food for a bottle of arsenic. When he realised his horrible mistake he threw himself at the goldfish bowl to save poor Hubert, but tripped, and knocked the bowl clean through the air. The bowl bounced off the wall, crashed into the lamp standing on the desk, and upended all over the harlequin doll.
Doctor Mortor frantically grabbed the lamp to get it out of the way, but the lamp had short circuited and Doctor Mortor got zapped by electricity, when his brained started smoking he managed to chuck the lamp away, it landed on Hubert, who was strategically positioned in the lap of the harlequin doll. There was a great zapping noise and a flash of dark light, necrotic energies surged through the room, entwining themselves with the dying goldfish and the one hundred percent dead doll, and suddenly the soul of Hubert found itself transferred into the harlequin doll.
The doll looked straight at Doctor Mortor, and said in a sincere voice: ‘I want tacos!’
Doctor Mortor pondered what had happened for a while, during which the doll, now calling itself Chesster, kept going ‘Taco taco taco taco taco taco’ for three straight hours. Finally Doctor Mortor threw the doll out the window, and locked the door.
On the subject of the Zzappinator
When he was eight, Niles received a small fluffy puppy for Christmas, he named it Booger. Niles and Booger were never good friends; the puppy took an instant dislike to Niles, and used to spend most of its waking time chasing the boy around the house. Things didn’t improve much when the puppy grew into a four foot high, 220 pounds heavy, murderous killing machine of fangs and claws.
Lucky Booger met his demise shortly after being hit by a 24 wheeler as he chased Niles to school one day. After totalling the trailer, Booger went on a killing rampage across the countryside, finally being surrounded and eliminated by the Territorial Army. Total death count: 2342. Niles has been very cautious of dogs ever since.
In an attempt to cure himself of his irrational fear of dogs, Doctor Mortor decided to make himself a dog that was completely loyal to him. Unfortunately the only thing he had access to at the time was a dead council Warwolf. Not letting this little detail deter him Doctor Mortor went to work.
The result was a small, half-man, half-dog, half-wolf thing. The little abomination had apparently absorbed the lightning energy used in it’s animation as it displayed an innate ability to channel and project lightning on its own. Doctor Mortor was pleased.
Unfortunately there was a minor setback as Doctor Mortor tried to brainwash his creation into obedience, unbeknown to him Doctor Mortor had accidentally summoned the malicious soul of Booger into his new creation. Booger was angry.
After thrashing most of the lab, eating a large number of unspecified things and chasing Doctor Mortor for about four hours, Booger finally took a nap. Quick as a fox Doctor Mortor slapped a collar onto the beast and kicked him to the curb, and locked the door, thrice.
Doctor Mortor is still very cautious of dogs.
- ↑ I swear, you can buy anything on there these days
- ↑ As far as I know there is not actually a hero with this name in existance, but if you do happen to create it, feel free to consider Doctor Mortor your Nemesis.
- ↑ He borrowed a baseball bat, it helped.
- ↑ Room 304 at the Mercy Isle Ritz
- ↑ combining three halves into a whole is easier than it sounds