Down on luck

"Aaagh! Jesus!" Creed yelped and slumped against the dumpster nearby, clutching onto his leg that was now gushing blood. In front of him was yet another goon of this "fine city" that managed to get a bullet inside the homeless youth.

After sliding his hockey mask off of his bruised face, he grabbed a hammer from his bag so he could bite onto the hand...Now grabbing a pair of pliers. While digging the too into the wound and sinking his teeth into the hammer's wooden handle, he couldn't help but think of his current situation. Homeless, barely fed enough to keep on fighting the good fight, currently shot and now wounded. It was tough times, needless to say.

Finally though with shaking hands he pulled the bullet out of his thigh, just as some voices could be heard around the corner. It was time to go, and the only direction available seemed to be up a fire escape ladder. So with a weak leap up, Creed barely managed to grab onto the handle and hoist himself up by only using his upper body strength.

Could he call Kurt? The man he helped claim his bow back from a biker gang not too long ago, who now happened to be the police commissioner of Gothic. But what could he do? It isn't like the green hooded knight had time for some homeless vigilante punk, even more so now with authority obligations.

Creed arrived at the rooftop, falling over and falling onto his back and reached for some gauze he stole from his last hospital visit. He had been slacking off, and that's what had him in this position. It was the fact that feeling sorry for himself came first before his promise he made to his late friend Luca, he paid the price and now it was time to get back on track.

Leg wound tied up, mask back on and a weakly fresh attitude had Creed back on his feet. It was time he started giving this city everything he had even if he had nothing to give except for his life.

Start the Conversation


Gothic city, "The Drags"

"Y'know, it's really annoying when you're breathing hard in a hockey mask...All that moisture is a bitch when ya trying to avoid getting decked right in the face. But it's worth it, cause when ya do get decked in the face.."

*CRUNCH* Went the goon's fist just when it collided with Creed's mask, also sending him back and grunt in pain, his nose just got bent in a bad way. "Ya think it's tough to beat on a girl!?" He shouted and slapped his fist into his other open palm, charging the larger man during an almost primal shout.

The woman, who was getting roughed up from turning down the fellow who Creed now fought just watched with tear soaked eyes. "Aw jeez, this douche is kicking my ass.." The brute grabbed hold of Creed's left jab easily, twisting the wrist and brought him all that closer, but our hero just used the momentum to slam a wild elbow right into his jaw. That seemed to buy him a few moments for Creed to run over and pick up his trench club.

"EAT IT!" Creed slammed the studded club right against the man's blocking wrist, no doubt shattering it. He wasn't going to let him back off, play time was over. As soon as that arm was out of the way, Creed fed him a left jab, then a kick to send him to the pavement. And it was done just like that, no way this lowlife was going to get up after having his wrist broken.

"Oh my god..Thank you!" The woman hugged a startled Creed. Not really from the hug, but when she wrapped her arms around his now aching ribs. "Gah-! Hey, no problem. Just trying to help out, but ya might wanna get outta here before this A-hole gets back up.." Creed watched her nod and run off, making sure she made it out of the alleyway before he started to get away himself, via a fire escape.

The rooftops, a safe haven for any small time vigilante. Creed sat down against the ledge of the rooftop, setting his satchel between his legs, took off his hockey mask and pulled out some medical tape lifted from the rink. "This is my life right here, livin' the dream.." He winced just as the tape tensed on his ribs, those were bruised bones for sure. Not to mention a split eyebrow. "...Who ever said the dream was pretty?" Creed chuckled and looked over to a newspaper front page that must have blown up here, seeing Kurt on the front page.

"Yeah he's alright I guess...But the drags? It might not be filled with crazy supers, but that's what makes it overlooked by all those big shots. I gotta look out for the smalls like me, cause no cape is going to break up turf wars..Not when aliens and crap were attackin'"

Creed finished patching up, slipping his mask back over his face, that intense look in his eyes once more.

"Name's Andy Creed. Hockey guy, poor guy, hero guy...Please ta meet ya..."


Creed and the shelving (Part three)

Gothic city, channel seven news.

"Welcome back to the program ladies and gentlemen. It has been over a month now since the masked madman known as Creed, fell into a coma. For those who missed our special, Creed, now revealed to be a man named Nathan Breda, was a gunman that operated in Gothic many times while eluding the authorities. All while costing the city just about a couple of millions in property damage from his comedic destruction.

Not much is known of Breda before he assumed this strange masked persona, but what is clear is the severe mental instability of Mr.Breda. This has cause the man to be bedded formally at the hospital in which another crazed killer, Mr.Smiles, demolished with explosives. Police found Breda still in his coma, while also remaining completely unscathed other then the gruesome ghoulish appearance he had already.

And now for the current news on the Breda incident. Now placed in Gothic's Knight memorial hospital. Hundreds, possibly even closer to a thousand citizens protest outside the hospital for the execution of the comatose mercenary. It has been decided however, that 'Creed' is mentally insane, and will receive therapy upon his awakening, if he does awaken..."

Knight's memorial hospital...

(...You win...) (Wait what?) (I'll let you back into the CV canon Creed..But don't expect anything big, I just need something light for a while, something fun. At any moments notice I could drop you aga-) (Yeah yeah! I got it, the usual for a comedic character such as moi...Or is it mwa? Eh whatever!..So a come huh?) (Well I had to think of something no? Characters can't just completely vanish from canon...And you know you can't remember any of our little talks right? You're not an omnipotent god or something..Anyway, have fun, do your thing..)

Creed's eyes widely opened while gasping, Nathan Breda, Creed...Was awake. Without another moment laying down, the mad merc rolled out of bed and face first onto the floor. "...Yeah..Ow.." He grumbled before getting up, realizing he was still in his patient gown. "Ok..Pulling ONE more string before I get back into action! Honest!"

Creed's apartment

Creed reached into his closet to swipe that new white costume of his.

Knight's memorial hospital, exactly where Creed was standing before (ugh)

Dusting off the costume he was now suddenly wearing, Creed picked up the heart monitor from beside the bed and waited, staring at the door. As soon as the first cop braged into the room, seeing that the heart monitor was disconnected, the maniac hurled it right into the cop's face, knocking him out. "Hah! Bet you didn't expect one of my powers to be throwing heart monitors like REALLY GOOD!" Creed laughed while leaping over the K.O'd cop, startling nurses while sprinting down the hall.

"Aim for the bushes!" Creed screamed before leaping out of the closed window at the end of the corridor, smacking into the brick wall of the building right next to the hospital..Then the fire escape..Then a clothesline..Finally a closed dumpster which he bounced off of and face first against the alleyway floor. "Didn't this already happen? All of five minutes ago?" Creed spoke through his broken windpipe, which was already busy repairing.

"God..I sound like Darth Vader...Cooool!" He wheezed while getting up on his broken leg just as it snapped back into place. "At least the healing factor hasn't gone stale in that plot device coma! Hmm..No money, no cellphone annnd now hilarious weaponry..Now who would be a good person to visit that doesn't HATE me completely?" The merc pondered while waltzing through the protesting crowds, of course not noticing him due to not having his old red and black costume on. Windpipe slurped back into place.

"LOOK OUT WORLD! I! CREED IS BACK!" He shouted at the top of his repaired lungs...The entire mob freezing and slowly looking over to Creed. He just nervously chuckled while pulling out a sign that said "HELP"

Fifteen minutes later, after hiding in a smelly dumpster, the hundreds of angry citizens gave up their search for the comedic anti-hero. He then looked on over to...Well you

"This is going to be, a blasty blast!"


Creed and the shelving (Part two)

Creed's apartment...

(Creed? What the hell are you doing?) Creed shuffled through his wardrobe, his pale, dead flesh exposed while still wearing those Noir Rose boxers. "What does it look like I'm doing!? Picking a new look for my sick comeback of course." (....) Creed pocked his head out from the closet, his dead brow raised. "What the hell is with the dots? I'm coming back, whether you like it or (no..) not cause I am one of the best cre(no..)ions ever! I'll hit up Gothic first, see what Kurt is up to, the usual gag. I think this time though I'll see what Kamelo(NO CREED!)"

Creed frowned while suddenly taken back by the yelling, knowing damn well he ha a long shelving ahead of him. Never the less though, he kept shuffling. (Look Creed, Brian made you, and everyone thinks you are actually pretty hilarious...But we all know what happens when I let you loose. Join a team here or there, witty comments all over the place OOC thread wise. But people get bored of the funny guy..Fast..)

Creed stepped out of the closest wearing a totally different outfit than his red and black one. (Huh...I like it. You would subtract some of that hate not wearing the Deadpoo l-...Never mind, the old costume. But Creed, I am pretty busy working on Jack right now, I have al-)

"BOOOORING! God! Why do you do that? Cram yourself into the fattest theme cause everyone else is doing it..Brian never did that! He did his own thing, and people followed.."

(Could you not go there?) Creed dusted off the costume before kicking all of the other costumes in the closest, walking on over to his sofa and clicking on the T.V

"Can't believe I am being one up'd by a GADDAMN TIN MAN! A SPACE TIN MAN NO LESS! He's budy making enemies, literal and otherwise..And I am in here, the NonCanonverse...Total bag of d!cks is what it is...Wait did you just sensor d!cks? Stop that!" Creed shook his fist in the air before flicking through in canon events. (Well I like Jack..Though there have been problems, I think it wi-) "Dick" (ARE you kidding me? God you really are never serious...Ugh, I'm out of here, ending this blog. To think I could make another one and have you behave..)

"Wait Danialson! Before you go. Do you like Jack cause of how the character is? Or do you like Jack cause you're afraid of changing again? And everyone likes that you haven't AND everyone else thinks he is cool?"


"Thought so.." Creed popped a beer and grabbed some cheetos. "Have fun with that space deal with Andres duder.." Creed then gave a mock salute before grabbing the remote...

Start the Conversation

Creed and the shelving

"And now! The explanation NOBODY asked for, not the guy..I mean like, as in no peopl-Ahh forget it. Anyway! The explanation of why your not favorite guy has been bumped down to the cable version of stories by only starring in blogs! Cause apparently writing the big BAD WOLF IS JUST SOOO WORTH THE THREAD TIME! Why am I stuck in a solo series while he gets both!? HUH!? HUH!?" "SHUT. UP!"

The gun for hire got a good deck to his face, dislocating his jaw. "Ai em...DE LUAAW!" Creed shouted at his captors with his messed up jaw, leaving the one so frustrate he simply just didn't punch him again. The mad merc had been in chains for months now, captured by a league of terrorists that he happened to piss off one too many times.

The only things Creed had on was his cartoon themed Noir Rose boxer shorts and his mask, something the men chose to leave on due to the unfavorable..'Face' underneath. He almost had it, after weeks and weeks of constantly moving his wrist up and down in the tight shackle paid off, for the flesh peeled enough down to the bone for some slack.

*CRACK* "Hey! Ma jaw is back! I better pick a good one before you get over here and Stallone me all over again. Actually, I think I might just want my phone call! See how that totally not broken relationship between Kurt and that hotty has been going.." The guard had enough once more, walking over to deliver another beating.

Except this time, Creed's hand disgustingly slipped out of the shackle and slapped the guard across the face. "Shit! Get the flamethrower!" He shouted at his partner who was just as startled as he was, fumbling about for the weapon. "YEAH, get the flamethrower!" Creed reached down and pulled out the man's holstered pistol, making quick work of him with a head shot before shooting the other shackle chain.

The guard got the flamethrower just in time for Creed to lunge at him, igniting him up in flames. This..Didn't prove out well for the guard, for Creed simply grabbed onto the man and burnt him alive. "Why does everything I touch DIIIIIIIE!?" He shouted in actual agony while trying to turn on the shower that was located in ding room, first rusty water pouring onto Creed before fresh water.

"Seriously though..Where the hell am I?" He asked as the fire started to simmer and eventually cease, his horrid skin healing once more slowly. Creed navigated what seemed to be an abandoned auto shop for a few more minutes, finding his costume but nothing more. And finally, he found the exit to see he was in Solace City.

"SERIOUSLY!? They could have at least chained me up at the beach or something, I mean LOOK at that view." The merc took in some of that ocean air before pulling out his phone, browsing the internet for current affairs, while walking down the street, of course drawing attention.

"Hmm, what to do...I could go the Land of Fables! Hows about terrorizing those Knightfalls again, or I "Cood go to dah smoooth town dat is New Orleans, take in de supanuturahl.."...Wait what?" Creed's phone started to buzz, the name 'Puzzler' coming up, he curiously answered it.

"Hello Creed..Glad to see you're out of that situation of yours..Oh and don't bother asking how I knew that, it's sort of my thing as you know. Look, I have a few things that need to be done and only I nut like you would do them..Alot of low key operations that wouldn't really have you "mingling" with the world's super community..You in?"

"Wait..Is that an IC excuse for me to stay in BLOG LIMBO LAND where I can't affiliate with anyone else!? I mean, I get people HATE talking to me and dealing with me but I didn't think it was that bad..Fine..I guess the Big bad wolf is more "likable" or something.."


The green (Shelved)

  • Real name: Unknown, first named presumed to be "Tanner"
  • Alias: The Plant Man.
  • Species: Avatar of vegetation. Formally human.
  • Nationality: Canadian.
  • Alignment: Ultimate good.
  • Weight: Varies.
  • Height: Varies.
  • Age: Unknown.
  • Affiliation: The Unnaturals.
  • Occupation: Nature's champion.
  • Power: Dominance over plant life.
  • Weakness: Lack of plant life.

The powers of the green.

Being the Plant Man means to have one's soul bonded to the very consciousness of the planet's plant life. He can hear their thoughts, feel their pain and ultimately have total dominance over such. Tanner though, describes controlling the plants not as such, for he himself if merely cooperating with his own kind now.

  • Plant control: With only a thought, the vegetation that surrounds Tanner can be used in any limit of their capabilities. This can range from using vines as tethers, or having a tree shift it's branches as arms.
  • Plant evolution: Not only can he cooperate with the plants, but he can give them new life and strength with his own aura. A fly trap can become bus sized if Tanner had enough energy in himself to do so.
  • Body manipulation: Since Tanner's body is 100% plant life, his blood is Chlorophyll and a heart made of bark, his body is just as variable as any other plant. With enough energy, his arms can become sharp wooden blades, or sprout wings made of heavy moss for flight. Anything that Tanner can think of and is in the limits of his own aura and body mass.
  • A soul with an avatar: Tanner's body is merely a vehicle for him to traverse in. His soul is bonded to the mind of the earth, meaning if his avatar is destroyed, he is far far from dead. When not in an avatar, Tanner is floating about the green like a spirit, like a network. And with enough plant life, Tanner can grow himself from the tiniest sprout, the smallest blade of grass. This of course means he can "teleport" in a manner of speaking.

Tanner the Green.

Almost nothing is known about Tanner's previous life, nor does he enjoy telling people about it. What is known however is that Tanner died when he was a young man, it's still unknown when he died exactly. And after he died, the earth chose him to be one of it's many natural champions, taking his soul and bonding it with the earth.

Now, his soul is able to create an avatar from plant life, using this to fight all of earth's evils whether they be criminals, or malevolent spirits. He is the Plant Man, master of nature.

Start the Conversation

The new age

Over Gothic City.

Plant man struggled to keep his mossy grip on Tyler Benton's leg, a man who made a deal with a demon to become the Noir Rose...It went wrong though. What occurred was a twisted joke from the demon, turning the man into a bat monster.

"GET OFF ME!" Tyler shouted while taking his clawed foot and bashing against Plant man's face a few times, not seeming to have much effect. "Enough of this!" Plant man shouted while morphing his arm into a sharp wooden blade, quickly swiping it though Tyler's winged arm..Cutting it off.

The two fell, for a good twenty stories before they both crashed into the middle of the street, a few cars swerving out of the way. Bystanders of course not helping to shout how there was two monsters in the middle of the road, some recorded it while some were already phoning the police. Tanner was shaking his head, his chlorophyll ridden mind still shaken up from the fall.

"Heh..HehHAHAHA!" Tyler laughed in the form of a screech while coughing up blood, slowly looking to his foe. "This is just the beginning of a new age Plant Man..The mortal's time is OVER! You hear me!? The freaks, the strange will soon infest this earth.." Tyler slowly tried to get up, accidentally trying to use his cut arm, and fell to the ground once more.

Tanner got to his feet, a few feet shorter due to loosing some of his vegetation from the impact. "May you find peace in the afterlife..Benton.." Tanner's arm was still in it's blade form, raising it over Tyler's head for the execution.

Right as he was about to swing however, a damned vampire leaped off the roof of a taxi with a bastard sword in hand, using his undead strength to take Tanner's arm right off. "What!?" Tanner shouted while turning around, only to have the same sword stuffed into his green chest, chlorophyll spilling onto the street. Now on his knees, a punk vampire pulled out the blade, not waiting to swing from Tanner's head...

*SHUNK!* With that gross noise went Tanner's head off his mossy shoulders, falling and rolling a foot away while the body simply crashed to the floor....

All but three minutes later, Tanner's body shot out vines from it's back, grasping onto his head and dragged it back onto the body's neck. The Plant Man would shakily arise while rubbing his neck, seeing that the vampire, and the bat...Were gone..

He looked around to see people running away in fear, typical. With a slightly sad sigh, Tanner grew mossy wings from his back, the skeleton made of tough wood. With a simple bend of his creaking knees, he took to the skies.

Was it true? Was there a rising tide? Sounds alot like a rumor to Tanner. He knew just the person to speak to about rumors...


Nathan Breda (Shelved)

Universe: nU

Faction: Neutral

Title / Code Name: Creed.

Real Name: Nathan Breda.

Base of Operations: Mobile

Gender: Male

Hair Color: None, formerly blond.

Weight: 145lbs

Age: 27

Eye Color: White/Yellow.

Height: 5'9

Super Power Origin: Experiment gone wrong.

Identity: Public.

Place of Birth: Newfoundland, Canada.

Known Aliases: The devil, blue archer.

Status: Undead/Demon

Powers: Demon physiology/Teleportation

Avatar Appearance: Nightcrawler

Mini Biography: Nathan Breda was an agent of the united nations metahuman affairs division, going by the alias of vermilion archer at the time. Being one of the world's greatest marksmen allowed him to easily climb the ranks and become the best field agent the division had in years, dealing with rouge metahumans. However the time came when his own division performed experiments on him, turning him into the insane rogue assassin that never shuts up, Creed...

...There is one thing that happened during the final experiment though, Nathan died, then came back to life as the manic Creed. Nathan's soul left his body and passed over to the nether world, while everything evil and Nathan strives not to be is what Creed was.

The archer roamed for ages in the netherworld as a specter trying to survive against the sinister spirits that resided there..Until he chose that he would refuse to stay there forever. This is when Nathan chose to strike a deal with the most powerful demon in this strange afterlife. The deal was simple, Nathan returns to earth in a new form, a new body. But the other end of the supernatural bargain was that the demon would reincarnate Nathan as a frightening blue demon, so he could not return and have the life he once did.

Grid Points:

  • Agility: 7
  • Durability: 6
  • Energy Projection: 1
  • Fighting Ability: 5
  • Intelligence: 3
  • Mental Power: 3
  • Speed: 3 (Teleporter)
  • Stamina: 7
  • Strength: 3

Night call

Somewhere in Nevada...

The bar was near it's last call, it was rather bare for a Friday night. One of the women who worked there was picking up the empty bottles and clearing the tables, all while glaring at the group of bikers who have been eyeing her the entire shift like a pack of hungry dogs. She knew the difference between the creeps that were harmless, and one's like this pack...

She clocked out, lights off, waiting for her father to pick her up outside. A strange vibe was in the air that night it seemed, like the silence before a storm rolls in, this didn't help the girl who was already on her toes, now glaring at the same bikers from inside the bar.

"Look guys..C-..Can you please just leave me alone?" She asked with a faltering tone, her hands clutching each crossed arm tightly, trying her best to seem intimidated. This only made the pigs chuckle like chumps as they surrounded her. "Now, if I din' know any betta' honey... I woulda' thought you was a bit rude.." Their obvious leader spoke out with brutish southern accent, grinning at her with his tobacco ridden teeth.

It was only moments later before she was on the ground, her muffled screams thwarted by the loud laughter of some sick men. A belt was halfway undone right before it happened, before it appeared.

"What the f*ck?" Mumbled one of the bikers, getting the attention of the rest. Not even four feet away from them, was Nathan surrounded by a purple inky smoke, panting while on all fours. "Hey bud, you might want to start pissin' off before you get your head kicked in.." Said their leader, doing his belt back up, yet the girl stayed exactly where she was, petrified from what almost happened.

Even with the threat said, the figure stayed on the ground, clearly exhausted. "I said git!" He now shouted while walking over and grabbing Nathan by his strange dirty robes, puling him into the neon glow of the bar sign. "..." The biker was caught off guard for a moment, the man seemed to be dressed up like some sort of devil or demon. "Halloween isn't for another week you f*cking retard.."

And just like that, Nathan found himself on his back, having just been punched in the face. "I'm back.." He weakly muttered while seeing the first human he has looked upon in a year walking over to boot his boot in Nathan's face. But as soon as he brought his boot down, Nathan moved his head at the last moment to the side. His yellow eyes narrowed while wrapping his forked tail around the closest leg of the biker and performed a kip-up that went right into a front flip. The tail tightened as he was doing so, tugging the biker backwards and flipping him right onto his face.

The rest of the gang backed up a bit in awe, pulling their guns and knives. "Alright..Which one of you Hillbillies wants some?" Nate's face may have been different, but that cocky grin was all the same. The first biker aggressively ran forward while Nate was drawing his bow that was slung on one shoulder, quickly twirling it just as the goon lunged at his chest with the knife. Nathan was much too fast though, snapping the arm between the string and the bow, twisting it in a way that actually broke the bikers arm.

"F*CK!" Yelled his friend still on the porch, pointing his weapon at Nathan, only to end up firing at a puff of purple smoke. Not even a second later, the demon landed on top of the gunner, forcing his face into the ground while drawing a bone arrow and pulling it against the string, just in time to fire it into the shoulder of the last criminal while he was fumbling for his gun.

The waitress just sat there and stared at the demon in both horror and slight amazement, only to have Nathan glare back with those inhuman eyes. "..." He didn't speak, only turn away and vanish in a puff of smoke...

A few miles down the road, on lone desert road was a payphone. Nathan's demonic, three fingered hand picked up the phone and slipped a quarter he pocketed from one of the bikers into the slot. Dialing the first phone number that came to mind, Abigail Aensland, the last woman he flirted with before those experiments. He remembered her number even after the horrific time he had in the Netherworld.

After only three long beeps, someone picked up. "Abigail Aensland..." Said the voice on the other line, there was no mistake, it was her. "......" Nate tried to speak, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn't bring himself to it. "..Hello?.......Hello?....Ugh..." An annoyed sigh was all Nathan heard before the line was cut, only silence now.



"The days, what I assume are days, stretch on forever here. The sun is nothing more than a pale orb that produces a light like how the moon shines. I know I am not on earth anymore..And I know that I am dead , that much is pretty clear from the way my body looks now.

I have seen my physical body walk the earth since I died. A sickening caricature of what I was before I signed up for that experiment..All while my soul ascended..I guess souls exist..And an afterlife..Yeah a whole lot of things I didn't know or think were real..And then there are these guys.."

Nathan sprinted through the sleepy woods, a chilling fog swayed and curled as the damned archer navigated it's intricate design. Behind him were nightmares, or so they were called. Silent, thin shadowy figures that feasted on the dead of this place, and they were hungry..

Finally having a good lead, Nate removed his deadwood bow, getting a bit more speed before placing his foot against a tree. He leaped up high, drawing arrows carved from the bones found in this land and spinning to face his pursuers. It was still all too easy, the arrows flew one by one before he even hit the cold floor.

Three down easily, out of arrows, now came the rest. "Come at me!" The damned shouted while slinging his bow, now grabbing hold of his scythed staff, spinning it to gather momentum for the immediate battle coming. One leaped up off a tree, while his two friends came in at ground level. Choosing the one over two, Nate leaped up in the air as well, catching the nightmare's neck with the sharp curve, a small tug would take his head.

A graceful roll was accompanied by the quiet thud of a head. Nate slowly rose up to deal with the duo. Block after block would just go further to show the skill the Breda clan archer had gained during his stay here in the afterlife. A punishing smack with the dull end of the staff was followed with a quick spin by Nathan, this time with the sharp curve..

*Thud!..Thud!..* Two more heads...

Minutes later, Nathan would sit atop his favorite rock that happened to be in a shape of a reaper himself, the one he sat upon after first arriving here. His mind was slowly calmed by the thoughts of home, blondes..And friendly rivals..

"My name is Nathan..I am a lost soul at the crossroads. My body? The host of everything sinister about me..While I sit here, pure.."

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