Immolate
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
| |
| Immolate | |
| Player: Nomadic | |
| Origin: | Magic |
|---|---|
| Archetype: | Tanker |
| Security Level: | Currently 29 |
| Personal Data | |
| Real Name: | Ezekiel Johnson |
| Known Aliases: | Zeke, Formerly Friction Burn |
| Species: | Human/Zombie |
| Age: | Died at 18 |
| Height: | 6'2" |
| Weight: | 155lbs |
| Eye Color: | Milky Grey / Blue when Alive |
| Hair Color: | None / Auburn when Alive |
| Biographical Data | |
| Nationality: | American |
| Occupation: | Hero. |
| Place of Birth: | Omaha, Nebraska |
| Base of Operations: | Dark Astoria |
| Marital Status: | None |
| Known Relatives: | None that he talks about |
| Known Powers | |
| Former Speedster, with high speed attacks. | |
| Known Abilities | |
| 'Natural' Zombie Traits; Doesn't need to breathe, sleep, drink, or -stop- moving. Has a Hunger for fresh meat, that he tries to keep under control. | |
| Equipment | |
| Hero Costume, Gas mask and Visor | |
| ' | |
Once, Ezekiel was a fun loving young hero, someone who did heroics not for the best reasons, but simply because it was fun. Everyone loves a hero right? Especially one that can clear the fields in seconds. But Zeke was destined for greatness. He knew it, and it wasn't long after he graduated high school that he sprinted to Paragon city. The Speedster's ego was... well let's just say he had a hard time working with any team for very long. Sure he could do a couple of runs, pun intended, and the kid was definitely solid at helping the cops with missions that took him to the more exotic locales... But, eventually, such things didn't hit the young mutant's thrill seeking ways.
Biting off more than one could chew was definitely one of his more preferred gimmicks, so self-assured he'd be able to escape if things went awry due to his natural speed, but Zeke never accounted for magic. A necromancer in the service of the Circle of Thorns had been working on how to manipulate heroes, particularly those who's potential came from inherent genetics. A smash and grab raid had been set up to lure in the lone hero, to better test the ability without needing to deal with a full team of young punks. Friction Burn ate it up hook line and sinker. Sliding into the warehouse only to find that it was set up as a labyrinthine trap. To make matters worse the walls shifted, as he moved and ensuring that despite his speed, the exit would remain ever elusive. It wasn't until the fourth or fifth minute of sprinting around, that Zeke started to feel something he'd never known before, discomfort from heat.
Necromatic energies siphoning at his body hadn't outright killed him, but had ripped his body's natural protection from friction free from his form. Before he could stop he was burning in an all new fashion, body smoking and flames starting to roil away from his flesh through the suit. Burned alive, before the Necromancer's scrying window. A failed experiment... but at least something had been gleaned by the caster. Something of note to bring to others and further work upon.
Hours, Days, Maybe weeks, passed, it was hard to tell when you were dead. But eventually, The carcass stirred, still smoldering through cracks in the suit that had barely housed his corpse. Zeke's mutant genome had absorbed the arcane energies saturated in death. Using them to fuel a second mutation and bringing him back from the shallow ditch he'd been dumped within. Friction Burn was no more, but he'd find a way to get what he lost, the Circle of Thorns hadn't heard the last of him, they just didn't know the name that would haunt their doorstep evermore. Immolate had Risen.
Appearance of Powers
Immolate is not as fast as one of the Quick, but he still faster than the average-Joe who runs the streets. More concerning is how he moves. The oddly disjointed movements and spasms have him covering distances in ways that are unpredictable, and often times show off the strength of the dead far more than the finesse. There are times when his gait will incidentally surge and send him through the air, rather than skittering across the concrete.
Ghastly blue flames lick along Immolate's form, wreathing him in a hostile defense. Those who seek to draw to close to him feel the chill wind of death and the pyre flame chasing upon its heels not too long after.
