Neon

Real Name: Max Richards
Hero Name: Neon
Title: Grandmaster of the Lords
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Hair: Dirty Blonde
Eyes: Aqua Blue
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 175 pounds
Blood type: O negative



At 175 pounds, Max is a lanky fellow with an unseasoned, boyish demeanor that does not match his words and expressions; he has the muscle tone of an athlete, but nothing to stand out at all. Max often wears clothes from a simplistic wardrobe to suit his unpredictable personality.  Brown, hard leather shoes, blue jeans, and a long sleeved T-shirt with blue sleeves and a white torso is what he usually cruises around with on the job. Sometimes, he wears a blue leather jacket on top of it to switch things up. When it comes to more professional occasions, however, he dresses to the hilt.

  His costume involves a flak jacket and a hard luchador-style mask that fully covers his face. The mask and the jacket are decorated with crosses, stripes, and lightning bolts, all colored to be silver and gold. Silver chains hang from his belt, reflecting the light show he often produces. It is meant to be otherworldly and accentuate his powerful presence and colorful powers and can seem a bit frightening, but in a flamboyant and regal way, not in a brooding or terrifying way (Batman, Moon Knight, etc).



     Max is a bit of a different bear on the streets of Philadelphia than the usual passerby, riffraff, etc. He purposefully stands out because he is one of the most mad with power anti-heroes that have ever stalked the annals of history. He lives a double life, during the daytime he mostly lives a wagie life, lost in a forsaken, crumbling society and trying to find his way out, but in his free time as an ambitious challenger to the average street gang. He is ambitious, arrogant, charismatic, hedonistic, and wrathful when someone pushes him too far, all traits that those he often combats seem to have. His main difference however is that he does have a moral compass and a need to transcend the categories of the world around him.

 In simpler terms, Max comes off as a punk who is much more than angst, his powers allowing him to forge ahead and grow out of mere rebellion and adolescent male pride. He can carry relatively deep conversation and involves himself in analyzing the world around him, since he has an outlet that can satisfy and manifest his wanderlust (and lust for other pleasures). So instead of gaining pleasure from crime like those he rivals, he instead gains pleasure from heroism, carving out his own path, and gaining power. He chooses to channel his pride into trying to make the world a better place, and the people around him into better versions of themselves.

His altruism, however, is still immature, headstrong, and insensitive. He may be stubborn and outspoken against other visions of the right thing to do, in action or in philosophy. This can be a bit of a turn off to many, as he can be condescending and deem others cowards who are too used to the status quo, instead of being a more listening and understanding kind of hero. Again, it doesn’t take hold of him to the point where he can’t come to an agreement or work with others, but it will get sour and come to a heated argument if he gets big for his britches and thinks his way is best.


         
   In was the turn of the century when Max was born. A figurative and literal perfect storm of events all culminated on a single dark and stormy night. First there was his mother, a drug user and pregnant with him at six months old. Then there was the clock striking midnight and the strangest of lightning storms reaching its crescendo. Scientists in a secret research team involved in studying dark energy, the occult, and quantum fields were tracking it at the time, all of their hopes for a breakthrough falling upon a single unknowing baby in his mother's womb. It was hard to say what happened first, the strange feeling before the lightning strike, the stress of Max, or the red lightning itself, but his mother was struck to death while walking home. That would have been a sad and strange end to the story of another unfortunate family in Philadelphia, if it hadn't been Max being the most affected. In his moment of stress and something was wrong, he almost instantly changed with the strange energy flowing through his body and adapted to it. Instinctually feeling his mother's life begin to fade as her heart stopped, the baby pushed back and poured out his own newfound power, defribulating his mother's heart and then giving her life by unlocking his 'cold plasma' abilities. His mother wasn't sure how she was alive or had the energy to crawl, and then hobble to the closest phone and call for the emergency room, but she knew it was something truly paranormal, perhaps even God Himself giving her another chance. All she knows for sure is that she was surprisingly ok and much less damaged by the time she made it to the ER.

    Since that fateful night, Max grew up to be a strong-willed, intelligent and intuitive boy with a penchant for always trying to make life better for he and his loved ones. Max endured a tough life in the streets of Philadelphia, being one of the only white kids on the block, and also carrying his own intelligence and style that many envied. From middle to high school, his charisma bought him some friends but many more enemies, as he was rather envied as well as deemed a threat by other big shots within school and in the streets.  He also looked like a total oddball, being able to beat ass as a standard, non-threatening guy with the mouth of someone twice his size. There wasn't a week that went by that Max would either get into a fight, or some kind of crazy banter session with the wild children around him. This was the primordial conditions that birthed his selfish goodness, exacerbated by his strange, tense relationship with his mother. On the one hand, he loved her and cared for her, on the other she was a drug abusing broken person, who was either emotionally distant or abusive and out of her mind 70% of the time.

  The harsh environment of his upbringing led Max into his own philosophy and outlook on the world. It was a dog eat dog, sink-or-swim world where all one could do was enjoy oneself as much as possible before inevitably getting taken out. This was all true to Max, but he also saw what self-medication and escapism had done to his mother, as well as many others around him. In a way, seeing the painful cycle and the pride to rise above the situation saved him.  He began to look at his powers not as a means to dominate in street fights, but to possibly overcome and carve out a better situation, community, and possibly city. It was also a means to making money. The gang he had joined for protection in high school, he soon took over when he invited them all at midnight to see the true nature of his power. After an impressive display, fate smiled on him as his friends were awed at his power, instead of running away. He declared that he would be the new leader, and that this would not be a gang but something far more powerful and superior that would rise above the endless cycle of poverty and meaninglessness. The members would strive to live balanced, upstanding lives and would instead harness their aggression and prey on other gangs, using Max's connections and legacy as Neon to gain clout and cash. Thus, the Lords were founded, a strange Frankenstein's monster of a mafia, Robin Hood's merry men, vigilantism, and activism.  

 Now one may ask, "How were such strange ducks not singled out and destroyed by other gangs or the police?" Well, there are a few things to know about Philadelphia. The first is that thugs are generally a superstitious and cowardly lot. A metahuman leader who is invested in upgrading and improving his tactics and men instantly makes an impact on the streets. Word gets out after the first few victories, and some want to join, while others get the picture after the first few revenge attacks backfire. Secondly, the gangs involved are not the high-end kinds of gangs like the Chinese, Russian, or Italian mobs or the South American cartels. They're mostly insecure young men looking for somewhere to fit in and prove themselves. The Lords make quick work of that nonsense, as they hold themselves to a higher standard, although not necessarily being that good of people themselves. When it comes to the police, there are areas of the city so dangerous, like the one Max lives in, that they just don't patrol there much. They do know about Neon and his abilities, but it's either passed off as a tall tale, or if witnessed, it really isn't seen as much of a threat.  A freak taking down other criminals is no skin off any cop's back, and if the cops in Batman's stories are grateful for the help, then the demoralized and stretched too thin Philly beat police see the Lords as a sight for sore eyes. Max has already befriended one of them and they think that it's a job well done.

  This is where our story begins, with a small urban legend rising to power in the dangerous streets of Philadelphia, protecting businesses, making connections, running into new foes, and dealing with internal troubles of his own.




Plasma Manipulation and Constructs -

Max's enhanced body allows him to reverse engineer the creation of plasma. This allows him to safely use plasma as a weapon or armor without causing harm to him in the process. Different shapes, levels of solidity, and colors of this unique form of matter gives him much greater versatility than what the more popular conception of electro-kinesis is capable of, albeit he can not create the level of power output as a lightning storm. Instead, he can create beautiful light shows, lifelike shapes, blinding levels of light, 'lightsabers' (plasma cutters looking like weapons), or just tase people in flashier ways. He can manage the voltage and current of a standard lightning bolt, so he is capable of lethal attacks, but he prefers to use it in quick bursts to stun his opponents (going all Palpatine on some poor NPC mugger would definitely cause some ethical crisis in his life).

Superhuman Reaction Speed - Max can enhance his brain to have an incredible reaction speed. Reaction is not the same as reflexes, but it still allows him to do things like easily shoot bullets and any supersonic projectiles out of mid-air, and quickly draw on unsuspecting foes. It even helps him in hand to hand combat. He does not have much training at all, but being able to see things in slow motion helps him become an above average hand to hand fighter. It takes a good deal of skill and clever maneuvering to touch Max, and he will put up a great fight, even though he prefers to use ranged attacks. In terms of agility he can bullet-time a bullet with great difficulty, but he prefers to aim dodge, and use this power to keep track of surroundings. The only other defense against weapons is his flak jacket and helmet, so Max is always on his toes when prowling the streets.

Cold Plasma Manipulation - Max can also create the cutting edge 'cold plasma' for medical applications. Seeing as how he's not a scientist, he doesn't understand any of it except on an instinctual level, but through close contact he can sterilize, cauterize, and speed up healing wounds. Now, this is not practical on the level of a super healing factor, but it can increase survivability in the days of recovery and help keep someone from dying or going unconscious. Another use is that he can eliminate bacteria, virus, and venoms in the bloodstream, or say a drink. Useful for any would-be assassins.

Electrical Resistance - Max gets free electrical resistance, due to the fact that his body is already altered to produce and conduct lightning, and can withstand the voltage and current of the greatest of lightning bolts. He can be blinded and disoriented, but can’t be burned by electrical attacks or mishaps.



Limited Usage - Max can only use or shoot up to two plasma bolts/constructs/weapons at a time. He can prolong a large single construct for usage, but it requires extreme focus to maintain.

Charge Up - Any particularly large or complicated construct (something 30 feet in radius) needs to be charged up which takes at least 15 seconds before discharge. During this time, Max needs concentration and is pretty vulnerable to attacks and distractions.

Electromagnetism - Anyone with the power of electromagnetic manipulation will have Max on their strings. They can easily nullify most of his attacks or even redirect them. At best he can try to blind them or zap them before they have time to react, but once they catch on he is in trouble.

Cold Plasma - This power requires focus and can not be used at the same time as his other attacks.


1) Smartphone
2) Flares
3) Motorcycle
4) 80K in cash from protection deals, bounties, and stealing from gangs







 Even in September, the sunset never seemed to gleam across the Philadelphia bay, casting a curse of blood-red light across shimmering waters, a fitting scene for many who looked out towards the little nature the city had left.  Max sat on a Camden without a note of fear in his slouch, watching not just the sunset but the bridge, the one that usually headed one straight into the heart of the city.

"The good old Benjamin Franklin."

An man in his sixties and a burgundy jacket turned from the window of the dimly lit room, one of many of an endless plethora of abandoned warehouses. He faced towards a circle of men of vastly different attires, demeanors, and outlooks. Tattoos, chains, different colored hair, teeth grills, you name it, they had it. Turning to his also well-dressed associate, he placed the folder on the table.

"Gentlemen... and I use that term loosely. We've been over this job one hundred times. It's the kickoff event. We have vastly different agendas here but as long as we each get our fair cut of the money, I ensure safe harbor and a complete sanctuary for all of your territories from all law enforcement, give or take a few wannabe heroes. My colleague and I are both rusty ourselves, seeing as how big work like this hasn't happened in quite some time, but we need money as much as you, and money talks doesn't it."

 A wiry black man in a wifebeater nodded his head, the 'elder' of the group but only 38 years of age.

"Sounds good. Ay, it's been some time since we a getogether, you know what I'm sayin? Sounds like this could be a part of something special."

The burgundy jacket replied, "Yes, well this is only natural. With anti-cop paranoia going on, and with plenty of boredom you will naturally begin to take over as the city decays and the police's hands are tied, not that they were very good at their jobs to begin with. If you want to move on up to bigger things, bank hits, and ops like this, then by all means. Not hurting anyone I know in particular. The papers will whine and the commissioner may make a stink, but the city's too far gone for anything really to be done.... now we hit the truck here, during rush hour, broad daylight. I provide the cover, and the plastic explosives, I trust you know how to ride dirt bikes..."

The men continued their discussion into the night, a natural expansion of evil in their hearts, overconfidence beginning to take hold with a strange euphoria of excitement keeping them awake, as the reality that no one would stop them in the end.

Across the river, Max took out his headpiece, sniffed, and stood up, decked out in a trench coat and a black suit and tie, and turned around similarly as the man in the burgundy jacket once did. A row of men, looking just as rough as the men in the warehouse, but also dressed formally, awaited instructions

"I'll take them at the truck, you hit them hard on the bikes. It's that simple, troops. These guys are idiots at the core, they just have new Christmas gifts from Sandy Clause."

The men chuckled. Max was just as excited, this would be the week where everything changed and the Lords would emerge from the status of myth or cult, into a new factor in Philadelphia.