Onomatopanick

Real Name: Duncan Gutierrez
Hero Name: Onomatopanick
Title: The Spergy Loser
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Race: Mexican American
Hair: Dark Purple
Eyes: Brown
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 160lbs.
Blood type: O



Unlike the average punk, who may come off as standoffish or aggressive, Duncan has a welcoming posture draws people towards him. Being average height, Duncan does not tower over many, while being tall enough to not be towered over by the freakishly tall. There is an equal amount of fat and muscle on Duncan's body, never letting much tone or musculature poke through. Duncan has dark purple hair that is short and messily styled at the top, with an undercut on the back and sides of his head, along with a groomed brown beard. Duncan has thick, brown, expressive eyebrows and eyes that have a fire inside of them. He has more body hair than the average person. Tattoos wrap around his arms and travel down to the tops of his hands. His face is pierced with a left lip ring, a ring on his right eyebrow, studs on both earlobes, and an industrial on his right ear. His favorite outfit is a pink tank top underneath a black leather jacket is how his rocks his torso, with black ripped jeans and scuffed black boots on his legs and feet.



Despite what Duncan has going for him in the power department, he does not appreciate nonsense of any kind. Nonsense to him could be oppression, which, like the good punk he is, is his mortal enemy. Nonsense to Duncan could also be villains harming others indiscriminately. A quiet determination rises from Duncan at all times and while he is talkative and sociable, insecurity can be found with an observant eye: the lack of finesse in his gestures, hesitation every once in a while. At best, this makes Duncan feel relatable and welcoming, at worst, this can make Duncan seem insincere and closed off from others. Duncan thrives on conflict and argument and will not be afraid to insert his opinion into a conversation, even if it isn't wanted. He feels that, without being a hero, there is nothing for him. Creative by nature, he enjoys singing and playing music, but never found much success in the field. Every once in a while, there will a cover band to join or some friends to jam with, but with everything going on in the world, he feels left behind when he tries to pursue his creative passions. Duncan finds himself to be insecure over the ridiculous nature of his powers and doesn't talk much about them, especially after his friends called him a "Spergy Loser" in high school. The embarrassment has stuck ever since.



At the fragile age of sixteen, Duncan was kicked out of his house. Duncan's God fearing parents could not handle a sinful child and conversion therapy was too expensive. Out of the house the demonic, sinful child went. With nowhere to go and no family to take him in, he found himself in a homeless shelter for queer kids. There, he was introduced to punk for the first time. Rather than feel like a victim of his circumstances, Duncan felt like he could rise above his oppressors who pushed him down. This time, he would push them back harder. The punk aesthetic was cheap and he was fortunate enough to keep his job at the burger joint he worked at. (They didn't have to know he was homeless.) A few hours here and there and he could afford all of the scuffed up, used clothes from the local Goodwill. With the help of his friends, he got his ears pierced and his hair was dyed purple.

Shortly after arriving at the shelter, Duncan was moved to a group home, where he stayed until he graduated from high school. It was during this time that he discovered his powers. They were all accidents. The first incident was during his junior year. Talking about baseball with some friends near his locker, he made a swinging motion with his hands and said, "Swing, batter batter, swing." Duncan felt resistance as his locker was dented from an impact. Everyone in the hallway turned to look at Duncan's locker, now damaged from what looked to be a baseball bat. He was brought into the principal's office and questioned, but with nothing on him, the incident was never solved. The second incident was in his senior year. He was talking with friends about a new action movie in the theaters. He imitated the lead actor, making a gun with his fingers and saying "bang." From his finger, a bullet flew into the trophy case at the end of the hallway. Students screamed and the school was put on lockdown. This time, he wasn't caught, but he and his friends started to piece everything together.

He and his friends would experiment on Duncan's powers in secret. It seemed to be that if he would make the sound of an action, followed by the motion, he could imitate it perfectly, as if he had a baseball bat or gun. During the early years of his college experience, he experimented some more. He could jump higher or even glide with this power. The things he could do weren't spectacular on their own, something strange every once in a while, but mostly mundane actions.

He graduated college with a degree in social work and started to work at the local queer center, helping out kids who were in his position a few years ago. He could be a hero to these kids, he found a purpose in helping people who were like him. Walking home from work one day, a man walked up to him and brandished a knife. The man wanted his money, but Duncan refused. The mugger rushed him, the knife heading for his stomach. Duncan tightened his stomach and said, "clink." The knife broke, but there was no blood. The mugger, terrified of Duncan, ran away. Duncan was learning new ways to use his powers all the time. There was a rush of adrenaline through him. If he could defend himself from criminals who preyed on innocent people, why couldn't he do that for others? An idea hatched in his mind and Onomatopanick was born. Not caring for costumes, he decided to ditch the costume and go as himself. When someone looked towards a figure to help them in their time of need, they would look to Duncan as himself, not a caped crusader.


1. Reaction
2. Agility
3. Strength
4. Endurance




Onomatopoeic Ideation: Fancy talk for, if he can provide the motion and the sound for an action, he is able to complete the action, sometimes, with better results than the real action. He could jump higher, glide, hit harder than a baseball bat or shoot faster than a gun. Duncan does not know the true nature of this power, but it comes from his mind in a pseudo-psychic fashion. If he can represent an action in visuals and sound, he can replicate it. Of course, this is limited to things he can visualize. Any action that may hurt him with not happen, like explosions. (He would be the bomb, which would kill him.)



Requirements: In order to use his powers, there has to be three steps. The first is the ideation. Duncan must be able to clearly think about the action he wishes to mimic. This means that he can't use his powers while asleep, confused, or have any alterations to his mental state. The second step is visualization. Duncan must be able to clearly depict what action he wishes to mimic. If he cannot move the body parts required to visualize the action, he will not be able to use his power. The third step is communication. Duncan must be able to say the sound of the action he wishes to mimic. If his mouth is covered or is coughing, choking, or in any condition that prevents him from speaking, he can't use his powers.

Mishaps: English is a complicated language with many meanings on sounds and words. Occasionally, Duncan's actions or onomatopoeia may produce an action that he was not anticipating.



At the most, Duncan carries a phone, his wallet with some cash, his apartment keys, and headphones on him.



Duncan works part time at the queer youth homeless shelter that took him in when he was younger and uses that as his main source of income.

If he understands the onomatopoeia of other languages, he may say those and still be able to use his abilities.



Duncan shouted into the darkness. "This isn't how you get your ex-wife back." Sweat pooled and dripped down his back, making him fidget. There was nothing more disgusting than having sweat drip to another part of the body. All he could hear in the office was sobbing from the employees and his own breathing. He knew from the livestream on Facebook that this was a problem he could solve. A whole building surrounded in darkness, a metahuman with the ability to generate darkness, a chip on his shoulder, and wife leaving him made him decide to take her back by force. It didn't help that she was the CEO of the company. Now, if he could just figure out a way to see...

Oh. Yeah. There's an idea. He balled his hand into a fist and placed it above his head. Duncan opened his palm and with a "ding" from his mouth, a light appeared above his head. The light was limited, it pained a target above his head, but he couldn't go in blind. Over to the elevator he went. With a push of a button, he called the elevator to head up towards the top of the building. After a few seconds, the doors opened and Duncan entered. He pressed the button and waited for the doors to close. The doors started to close, but hit something. Duncan tilted his head and waited. The doors closed once more, when they were towards the middle, they hit something and opened.

Duncan screamed out as a force hit the side of his face. Felt like a fist, nothing new to him. He staggered to the right and caught his balance. The assailant was nowhere to be seen, it must've been a part of his power. A left hook into his stomach knocked the wind out of Duncan's lungs and he started a coughing fit. He waved his arms feebly in front of him to make sure the attacker wasn't going in for another strike. Duncan let himself cough. He needed to catch his breath to use his powers again. The metahuman made the mistake of letting him recover. Waiting at the door, Duncan was prepared to launch a counterattack. The doors closed once more and stopped at his attacker in the doorway.

Duncan swung his arms downwards. "Bam," he said. The club he envisioned in his mind collided with the attacker's head with a sickening crack. A silhouette started to form around the metahuman as he fell to the ground. The darkness surrounding the metahuman was absorbed into him. Duncan breathed a sigh of relief and checked his phone. He cursed to himself and rushed from the building. The police would take care of the metahuman, he had to get to the shelter. He was holding group therapy for the kids there today and he didn't want to be late.