MegaVolt

Aka : Diego Valdez First Appearance : Heroes of San Joaquin #1 Member of : Unnamed Super Team

Prowess 5 Coordination 4 Strength 5 Intellect 4 Awareness 4 Willpower 8

Stamina 13 Determination 0

Gauntlet Powers Alternate Form (Electricity) 5 Interface 6 Element Control (Electricity) 5


 * Attack
 * Create
 * Shape

Specialities Leadership Martial Arts Power Use (Elemental Control)

Qualities Still getting used to my powers Identity : Adopted hispanic son of a multi-millionaire Connections : Still has friends in old town "Trained" in the theory of superhero tactics

Challenges Weakness : Peanut Allergy "Father" is secretly a supervillian

Background
Abandoned at birth, 13-year-old Diego considers himself very lucky. After spending the first eight years of his life at the orphanage on whose front step he was found, Diego had all but given up any hope of being adopted. Then, the incredible happened, he was adopted. Not just by a random couple wanting a kid, but by Rafael Valdez, one of the richest men in the city! It was like something out of a TV movie of the week. This sort of thing didn't happen in real life and at first Diego was wary, suspecting the man of ulterior motives.

However, Diego's suspicions soon proved to be unfounded. Rafael never told Diego why he had adopted him, and Diego never asked, but he treated the boy as if he was his own flesh and blood. Within a few short months, Diego began to call the man father, even changing his surname from Gomez to Valdez. As the years passed, Rafael employed a series of tutors to homeschool his adopted son in a wide variety of educational areas and took the time out from his busy schedule to ensure that he had a proper moral upbringing, instilling in Diego a strong sense of right and wrong. He encouraged Diego to pursue a variety of hobbies and interests whilst remaining firm but fair in his attempts to prevent Diego from becoming spoiled.

Shortly after Diego’s 13th birthday (about six months ago), Diego’s powers slowly began to manifest. At first, just a few minor things, but they quickly grew in magnitude. He successfully (or so he thinks) managed to conceal these powers from his friends and his father. He didn’t know why he did this, but a little voice told him to keep quiet and tell no one.

As the weeks passed and his powers grew, the desire to do something with them also grew and the first opportunity game purely by chance. He was heading home after spending the day hanging out with his friends in Kennedy. Diego had chosen to use his bike that day instead of using one of his father’s drivers (turning up in the old neighbourhood in an expensive car always made him feel uncomfortable) and had stopped off at a convenience store to get something to drink. Just as he was about to open the door, he spotted a man at the counter holding the cashier at gunpoint. Diego didn’t really stop to think and immediately morphed into his electrical form (a trick that he had just mastered) and ‘ported into the store behind the robber, emerging from one of the overhead lights (another recently mastered trick). Diego quickly subdued the robber. As sirens heralded the rapid approach of police, the cashier asked him who he was. Diego, in a moment of panic, glanced around and the first thing he saw was a rack of soda cans. “Jolt ... er Volt. Yeah, MegaVolt. My name is MegaVolt.” With that, he ‘ported out, shifted back to human form and collected his bike.

Talon
Rafael Valdez is not who he says he is. To the public, he is an independently wealthy, multi-millionaire, who got rich playing the stock market. He gives significant sums of money every year to charities and good causes. He is a devoted father to his adopted son and is considered to be “one of the good guys”. The criminal underworld know him as Talon (although they are unaware of the link between Talon and Valdez) who ten years ago came out of nowhere and rapidly established himself as a major player in the criminal community, seizing control of several gangs and organisations, rising to the upper echelons of the power ladder.

But even this is a lie. His real name is Diego Gomez. And he is from the future. Not that far, just a few decades. In that future he is known as a vicious supervillain who grew up in Miracle City and became involved in low level crime at a young age. By the time he grew into his powers at age 13, he was already in juvenile detention for his part in an armed robbery. His first major use of his powers to start a riot, kill a rival gang member and break out of prison. Over the next twenty years, he carved his way through the South West, becoming one of the preeminent villains of his time.

But, things began to change. After a lifetime of crime, he experienced something he never expected, regret. Looking back on his life, he began to wish that he’d made different choices, done things differently. The blood of hundreds, if not thousands was on his hands, and even though it had given him power and wealth, he still felt remorse. Then, one day, his orders led to something so terrible, so gut wrenching that he couldn’t even look in the mirror anymore. He began to believe that if someone had just given him a chance as a kid, instead of discarding him and resigning him to a young life of institutional care, then things would’ve been different. Over the next few years, this feeling became so strong that he decided to act on it.

Somehow, he found a way to create a portal through time, either by stealing a magic artefact or by coercing a scientist to create a device. It was to be a one-way trip with no coming back but he didn’t care. Armed with mountains of data on the last thirty years, he went back to a point in time two years before he was born. He spent the next ten years using the data he had brought with him to establish his public persona as a wealthy philanthropist called Rafael Valdez whilst at the same time creating a small criminal empire under the identity of Talon. When he was ready, he waited until his younger self was eight and approached the orphanage where he was staying. In three weeks, his younger self would be approached by two of the older boys and pressured into acting as a look out as the dealt drugs on a nearby street corner for one of the local gangs. Rafael had identified this as the pivotal moment to change. By “adopting” his younger self at this point he could prevent his younger self being ensnared into a life of crime.

Bribing the administrator in charge of the orphanage, Rafael all but bought Diego and took him home. Over the next few years he attempted to raise Diego “properly”, trying his best to instill a proper set of values. All the time knowing that in just five years, his powers would begin to show. The education he received, the martial arts he was subtlety encouraged to take up, all were done in an attempt to train and prepare him without Diego realising what his “father” was doing. Preparing him to be a superhero.

Once Diego’s powers manifested, Rafael used his Talon identity to begin arranging “incidents” to test his younger self’s abilities and resolve.

Random Little Story
The gunman paced down the aisle keeping a wary eye on the small collection of passengers. His finger was tight on the trigger of the sub-machine gun he was wielding, its muzzle pointing at each of the passengers in turn. A college student whose nose had been buried in a textbook, her ears plugged with earphones when the men had boarded the train. There was a pregnant woman who looked ready to pop, he hoped she wouldn’t go into a labour while they were there. A construction worker that looked eager for a fight, he’d bet his considerable cut from this job that he would try something at some point. In the corner at the back with his hands on his head and ducking behind one of the seats was a young burgundy-haired Hispanic boy, probably twelve or thirteen. Bet he was wishing he hadn’t skipped school today. Sitting on the back seat on the other side of the bus and clutching his recently broken nose was an older Hispanic teenager with what he recognised as gang tattoos for Los Diablos, a street gang with links south of the border. He wondered if the two boys knew each other.

At the front of the bus were two other gunmen, one of them with a gun at the back of the driver, the other standing watch. “Alright people,” the one standing at the front said, brandishing his weapon at the passengers, “play it smart and you might just get through this in one piece. Any more heroics,” he added glaring at the gang member at the back, “and we’ll start putting bullets in heads.”

The bus was driving rapidly through the derelict industrial area along the city’s north side. Largely abandoned after the collapse of San Joaquin’s mining and manufacturing industry in the late 1970s, the area never recovered. Even in the middle of the day there were few people about and the roads were empty, the perfect place to hide the hijacked bus until they got the call on what to do with the passengers.

As the bus drove through a tunnel that took the road on sweeping curve beneath a disused rail freight yard, the lights inside the bus flickered as the vehicle’s electrical system died. A few seconds later, the bus’s hybrid electric engine spluttered and the bus rolled to a halt.

“What you playing at?” The man with his gun pointed at the driver yelled. “Get this heap moving.”

The driver turned the key in the ignition repeatedly but there was no response from the engine, not even the laboured growl of it attempting to start. “I can’t,” he said with a panicked edge to his voice, “the battery’s completely dead.”

With a dull thump, the lights inside the tunnel went out, plunging the bus into darkness. The passengers started to panic, the gunmen yelling for calm and for everyone stay where they were.

With the crackling of arcing electricity, a six-foot tall figure appeared at the middle of the bus. Vaguely male in proportions, the figure’s body was formed entirely of blue energy and lit from within by jagged flashes of living lightning. His facial features indistinct, only the glowing blue eyes gave any hint to his personality; they were narrowed in determination.

“MegaVolt,” one of the gunmen whispered, recognising the distinctive appearance of the figure and trademark lightning bolt on his chest.

“Get the cape,” the gunman standing at the front of the bus yelled, pointing his gun at the glowing hero. As one, the three gunmen opened fire. Dozens of bullet’s impacted MegaVolt’s chest but the hero didn’t move an inch. With his body comprised of pure energy, the lead bullets vaporised instantly as they struck the 30’000 degree lightning.

Flexing his shoulders and cracking his knuckles, MegaVolt stepped forward. There was an amused twinkle to his eyes as he spoke. “My turn.” He held out an outstretched hand. Motes of energy rapidly began rapidly gathering in the palm of his hand. Before anyone could react, a bolt of lightning lanced out and struck the nearest gunmen. The gunmen jerked spasmodically as the electricity coursed through him. Blue light from the arcing lightning illuminated the interior of the bus in strobes, reflecting off the wide eyes of the passengers.

The gunman crumpled to the floor, knocked unconscious by the taser-like lightning blast. MegaVolt surged forward and grabbed one of the gunmen around the throat. Lifting him of the floor, the hero allowed some of his electrical energy to flow into the gunman and as the man jerked, MegaVolt projected another lightning bolt at the remaining gun.

In the space of less than a minute, the hero had disabled three hostiles, leaving the slightly singed and smoking men lying on the floor. Unconscious but very much alive. The sound of police sirens heralded the imminent arrival of the authorities. MegaVolt glanced around at the four passengers and the bus driver. None of them had been harmed by the brief fight.

As the police entered the tunnel, MegaVolt’s energy form flared. The light blinding the passengers. When their vision recovered, the hero was gone and the lights in the tunnel and on the bus came back on.

Officer McPherson walked over to the young boy sitting on the kerb. With all the chaos of arresting the hijackers and dealing with the passengers, some of them borderline hysterical, it appeared that everyone had overlooked the boy sitting quietly by himself, out of the way. “Hey there son”, he said crouching down in front of the boy, “how you doing?”

The boy looked up and shrugged. “I’m okay.” McPherson was struck by the look in boy’s piercing blue eyes. They were utterly devoid of fear, distress, or any sign that he had been through what would be a traumatic experience for an adult, let alone a thirteen-year-old boy.

“What’s your name?” McPherson asked. “Is there anyone we can call?”

“Diego,” the boy said pulling out a fancy looking phone, one that looked far more expensive than the scruffily dressed boy should be able to afford, “Diego Valdez. And I already called my dad.”

“Okay Diego, would it be alright it I asked you a few questions while we wait for him?” McPherson noticed that the boy stiffened subtly and fiddled nervously with one of the piercings in his ear when he mentioned questions. “Relax, there’s nothing to worry about. I just want to know what you saw on the bus.”

Diego blushed. “Heh, nervous around cops eh? Guess that’s another bad habit I picked up at the orphanage.” The police officer raised an eyebrow. “I was adopted a few years back,” Diego said by way of explanation, “if you’re wondering how an orphan can call his dad.”

With a deadpan tone, McPherson said, “Wasn’t going to say a word.”

Diego just smirked knowingly. “Maybe, but I bet you were thinking it.”

He was starting to like this kid, he reminded McPherson of his own son. Well, back when they were still on speaking terms. “So what happened on the bus?” The boy began to explain how the hijackers had stormed the bus, threatening the passengers with their guns. One of the passengers had ignored their threats, the tattooed teenager, but all he got for trying to fight one of the hijackers was the stock of a sub-machinegun smashed into his face, breaking his nose. They had collected and smashed everyone’s phones. McPherson asked him how come his phone wasn’t smashed. Diego grinned and told him how he had dialled 911 on his phone and stuck it to the bottom of his seat using the gum he’d been chewing. “That was very quick thinking,” the police officer said. He knew that the only reason they had been able to find the bus so quickly was because that had been able to triangulate a cell phone that had dialled 911, allowing the operator to the hear the hijacking in progress. In fact, without that phone call, they wouldn’t have known the bus had even been hijacked. McPherson’s words caused Diego to blush again as he continued with his description of the events on the bus. As he got to the part where he described the appearance of MegaVolt, the boy became quite animated. Peppering his description with “thwackooms” and “zzzzaps”.

“Then, you guys showed up and he ‘ported out of there,” Diego said, finishing up.

McPherson sat with him for several minutes until he noticed a black limousine being stopped by a police officer at the mouth of tunnel. The rear passenger door opened and a very well dressed Hispanic man stepped out to speak with the police officer. Hearing the man’s voice, Diego looked up.

“Dad!” He called out, springing up and running over to the man.

“Diego,” the man said enveloping the boy in a hug, “thank God you’re okay.” He began to check his adopted son over, looking for any sign of injuries. “You are okay right, they didn’t hurt you did they?”

“I’m fine dad,” Diego said laughing as his father fussed over him.

“You must be Diego’s father,” McPherson said approaching the two of them, “you should be proud him.”

“Rafael Valdez,” said Diego’s father as he held out a hand, “I should thank you for rescuing my son.”

“Actually, if it wasn’t for Diego here, we wouldn’t have learned about the hijacking until it was too late,” he said shaking Rafael’s hand, “he managed to call 911 and hide his phone, alerting us to the situation.” As he spoke to the man, he realised who he was speaking. Rafael was a multi-millionaire who lived in an extensive estate down on the lakeshore. He was one of the richest men in the city, giving millions of dollars every year to charities and good causes.

“He continues to make me proud.” Rafael ruffled his son’s short spiky hair as the boy again blushed with embarrassment. “But,” he added “this is the last time I let you get the bus to visit your old friends in Old Town after school. Next time Andrew will drive you himself. It’s what I pay him for.”

“Aww dad,” Diego pouted.

“You got here almost as fast as we did, hope you didn’t break the speed limit,” he said conversationally. Rafael had gotten here a little quickly, less than ten minutes behind the police. It was at least a twenty minute drive from downtown, thirty from where Rafael Valdez lived.

Rafael shrugged. “Coincidence, I was in the area looking into investment opportunities. I guess I did order the driver to go a little faster than is legal.”

It was plausible a plausible reason, McPherson thought. If a little convenient. “I think that given the circumstances, we can over look it. This time anyway,” he said seriously. Although a second later, he smiled and laughed.

Rafael joined in, sharing the joke. Then he put an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Is there anything else, I’d really like to get my son home.”

“No, if we need anything else I think we all know where you live Mr Valdez.” McPherson said, once again shaking the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you Diego, take care of yourself.”

Diego waved as he walked the car, followed by his father. His father got in first, the door help open by the driver, and Diego followed. A spark leapt between his fingers and the doorframe as he got in, causing him to yelp in surprise.

“Is everything okay?” His father asked as he sat down, watching his son carefully.

Diego rubbed his hand and looked out the window, missing the studious look from his father. “Nothing, just a bit of static from the car door.”

Notes: Random build, build & art by blaster219