Gender: Male

Kit: Super

Location: San Francisco, California


Alignment: Villain

Team: The Fallen


Strength: standard (rank 1)

Agility: standard (rank 1)

Mind: standard (rank 1)

Body: standard (rank 1)

Spirit: (rank )

Charisma: (rank )


Infamy Points: 0

Personal Wins: 37

Personal Losses: 43

Team Wins: 0

Team Losses: 0

Tourney Wins: 0

Tourney Losses: 0


Status: Active


Flames poured out across the streets of San Francisco, police officers and firefighters alike leaping behind their cars for safety as an entire city block became engulfed in fiery currents. The heart of the explosion, a stack of wine barrels buried inside a blazing tavern, made one final eruption before the walls of the building caved in on it, leaving a mushroom of smoke and ashes in its wake. As firefighters rushed into the smoldering pit to subdue the flames, officers crept up from behind their cars, guns drawn and fixed on pair of glowing silhouettes floating inside the haze. Amidst the crackle of flames and shifting of buildings as they fell into each other, a hissing taunt was lost to all of their ears.

"Come and get me, piggies..."

Cid Galey squinted smugly through the veil of smoke that concealed him, carefully making out the lines of swat teams that awaited his exit. He counted at least sixty of them, each one sweaty, burned, and scarred, struggling just to stand amidst the hell that surrounded them. Pussies. He could only imagine what they were all thinking right now. What any one of them would give just to put a bullet through his skull. He might have let them too, just for shits and giggle, if he thought any of them deserved it. Not this lot though. No, these guys weren't interested in upholding justice, or preserving the safety of the city. All these pigs wanted was a chance to play hero, to be the one to kill the bad guy so they could get the next pay raise. They could rot in hell before he gave them that satisfaction. Selfish pricks.

Still, for as crooked as the pigs were, he had to hand it to them. It took a lot of balls to stand in this heat. Even if they were on their last leg, that was pretty ballsy.

As his thoughts shifted to the massacre that had littered the city, an evil grin crept across his face. So much destruction, so much suffering. He really had to give himself credit; he'd set the bar with this one. Normally it was all the pyro-drunk could manage to squeeze out a few bar fights before the badges showed up. He'd tear up a couple unlucky drunks, smash in a few windows, send a few people to the hospital, maybe one to the morgue. A handful of felonies at best. This though...this was big. He had to pat himself on the back for this one. Not right now, of course, because that would really hurt, but later. Assuming there was a later, of course. Judging from the mob of unfriendly faces waiting outside, he was beginning to have his doubts.

It was funny, Cid thought, how much attention he'd been getting from the cops these days. A couple years ago he'd have been glanced over as just another dirty drunk, some scum to wipe out of one gutter and throw into another as the calls came in. Jail was like a haven to him then: a couple days off the streets, a clean bed, three square meals a day, yet the police never saw reason to arrest him. They'd punish him, of course: drag him into the alley and have a good ol' fashion beat-down on his ass. Cid never saw reason for the alley. Who was there to hide from? It wasn't like anyone could have stopped them anyway. In a city this corrupt, power meant control, complete and absolute, and they had it all. He was at their mercy


Not anymore though. Now it was his turn in the driver's seat. This city, these people who had stepped on him, treated him like crap, they were all at HIS mercy! And all because some pretty little thing had offered him a drink one night. Who would have expected a simple shot of alcohol - cheap alcohol, at that - would turn a person's life around, but in Cid's case, that had been the case. As he downed the shot glass, he'd taken a quick puff from his cigarette, trying to enjoy both savory addictions at once. The surprise that awaited him afterwards was incredible; the smoke from his cigarette burned into his throat, searing through his body and billowing back out of his mouth like a chimney. It was a nerve-wracking sensation, torturous, addictive, and orgasmic all at the same time. He could barely contain himself for the first couple of weeks, annihilating everything in his path as he sank into the shadows, trying to remain unseen. Soon he learned to control his new powers: the smoke, the toxins that now flourished inside him, even the flames. He had become a god, and all because of a couple unhealthy addictions. Suck on that, karma!

With his new life of luxury, the world lay at his disposal: drinks, women, smokes...drinks. Well, that was the world to him anyway. He could sleep where he wanted, piss off whoever he liked, overall make as much of a nuisance of himself as possible, and nobody could stop him. Every drunk's dream. The only catch was that he had a debt to repay now, a service to the doll who'd saved him: he had to kill someone. A simple task, one might think, if only they knew the someone. Cid had to kill the Night Eye.

Speaking of whom, where was that runt? It wasn't like him to miss an opportunity to play the badges' fetching-boy. Taking another puff from his cigarette, Cid peered even harder through the clouds of smoke all around him, half-expecting his opponent to leap out at him at any second. The kid was like a shadow, almost impossible to find if you didn't know where to look.

"Ah, there you are runt. Took you long enough."

He spotted him finally, the legendary superhero of San Francisco, no more than a shady silhouette weaving its way toward him through the haze. He came out of the ashes of the building, probably checking for survivors. Not this time, Cid chuckled, admiring his handiwork again. The pack of cigarettes in his pocket and a bottle of whiskey in his hand were all that survived this round, and the pip-squeak wasn't getting his hands on either of 'em. Tucking the latter prize inside his belt, he gestured toward the incoming body with both hands.

"Come and get me, runt!"


And so it begins.

     Inhibit Senses: standard (rank 1)

  • Area Affect


He took the invitation eagerly, rushing through the smoke like a serpent set on its next meal. Finishing off his cigarette with one heavy drag, Cid spit the wasted ammo from his mouth before releasing a mighty wheeze. Smoke billowed from his mouth like a chimney as he choked out the intake of toxins, covering the already clouded area in an even thicker veil, completely blinding to the naked eye. Or, to most eyes anyway. Not the kid's though. His eyes weren't normal; in all the times Cid had fought with him, he couldn't remember ever seeing the runt be caught off guard. His eyes were flawless, never missing a detail, always watching . The police however...they were another story. They must have known Night Eye was in here. That's why they hadn't rushed in after him; they wanted the runt to do the dirty work for them. Now their hopes of witnessing the clash of super-freaks would be shattered, and any chance they had of shooting Cid would be plagued by the fear of hitting their renegade hero. No, they wouldn't interfere with things now. This would be settled mano a mano.

"What are you waiting for? Let's do this!"


Punchin' the hell outa you AND into you!

     Martial Arts: standard (rank 1)


As the runt circled around him slowly, looking for an opening to strike at, Cid cringed with foresight. It didn't matter what the first move was. He knew that whatever the runt decided to do, as soon as the fists started flying blood was gonna fly with 'em. He considered himself a decent enough fighter, mind you; you couldn't live on the streets for as long as he had without killing your share of people, and most of 'em didn't go down easy. Still, he knew when he was outclassed, and there was no beating this kid in a straight fight. Luckily, he had the scales tipped in his favor.

Listening to the kid's footsteps, he waited until the runt was directly behind him, creeping toward him slowly. With his back turned, the air around Cid's hands suddenly lit up, engulfing his fists in flames. The reaction was immediate; leaping backward, he swung his body around savagely, throwing a blind punch at the kid's face. A futile effort. Before he had even closed the gap between them, the kid was under him, ducking beneath the blow and hammering into Cid's stomach with a flurry of dagger-like strikes. Cid could feel his muscles spasm as every nerve in his gut lit up like a Christmas tree; it was incredibly how pinpointed the attacks were. Wrestling to keep his footing, he brought his fists down together in a clenched hammer strike, barely missing his mark as the the kid rolled to the side. The two backed away from each other, Cid worse for the wear, but finding solace in the burn marks running up the runt's sleeve. He'd gotten lucky.


Packing heat in a whole new way!

     Fire: standard (rank 1)

  • Ranged Attack
  • Area Affect
  • Multi-Attack


Rasping for breath as he recovered from the first round of punches, Cid held a clenched fist up to his face as he watched his opponent with a grinning glare.

"Let's see you dodge this one, runt!"

Unclenching his fist just enough for a small passage to open between his fingers, Cid breathed heavily for a second time into the fiery tunnel, closing his eyes in anticipation of the results. Flames tore across the air with rampant glory a second later, sweeping forward to engulf the superhero in front of him. Cid could only listen as the fiery gust pulsed against his face, threatening to set him ablaze if he didn't tame them soon. He ended the assault a moment later, killing the flames around his fist just long enough to extinguish the air. Opening his eyes slowly, he peered around hopefully for the sight of the incinerated pipsqueak.

A powerful strike to the back of his head killed his expectations.


Smoking'll kill ya, y'know.

     Poison: standard (rank 1)

  • Area Affect
  • Multi-Attack


Stumbling forward, he turned around bitterly to face his unharmed foe. Not even a scratch. He cursed viciously. This wasn't going his way at all. He had only one trick up his sleeve now.

"Let's end this, you little bastard!" He growled, running toward the child with renewed rage. Lunging forward, he hurled a punch at the kid's chest, missing by a mile as the kid darted to the side. Spinning on his heel, he continued with a seemingly blind assault, launching blow after blow as his opponent ducked and weaved out of harm's way almost effortlessly, landing a few careful jabs of his own in the process. All while making this crude rampage, a crimson smoke trickled from Cid's mouth out of the corners of his lips, intertwining its way amidst the smoke that already filled the area. Unlike the other smoke, this subtle toxin was even more poisonous to breath, literally acid to the body. All Cid had to do was keep the boy distracted. Time would take care of the rest.

As the two exchanged a mismatched flurry of punches and kicks, Cid began to notice the strength of his enemy dwindling as the minutes passed. Powerful blows became softer, dagger-like strikes losing their edge to the point that he could shrug them off easily. Finally, as the runt leapt in to strike his throat, Cid landed a lethal punch to the side of his head, sending the kindled crusader skipping across the ground. Without wasting a moment, he rushed after his fallen prey, ready to tear into the runt's already wounded flesh and finally repay his debt to the dame who'd blessed him.

He'd never see that chance.

As he closed in on his target, a crimson beam of energy ripped through the air suddenly, lighting up the night sky as it sent him flying across the the city, tearing into his chest. It was like a battering ram of pure plasmic power, knocking him senseless as it threatened to pierce into his chest. Luckily, its creator didn't see fit for that to happen, as it fizzled out of life as quickly as it had been born. As momentum carried him over the line of police cars, slowly descending into the mob of cops and firefighters below, Cid breathed his final curse of defiance before unconsciousness took him.

"Damn you, runt."