Calamity Moth


Gender: Male

Kit: Alien

Location: Danger Co.


Alignment: Villain

Team: KALI


Strength: weak (rank 0)

Agility: standard (rank 1)

Mind: standard (rank 1)

Body: standard (rank 1)

Spirit: (rank )

Charisma: (rank )


Infamy Points: 420

Personal Wins: 47

Personal Losses: 22

Team Wins: 0

Team Losses: 0

Tourney Wins: 0

Tourney Losses: 0


Status: Active


Rumor has it that a number of years ago the Entity known as the Mothman stepped down from it's position of power. It is nearly impossible to truly grasp what this sort of action would have required or to even gauge the veracity of this claim. However rumor further states that it's long time acolyte, known only as the Mothgirl, stepped up to claim the vacated mantle but upon receiving it found it to be incomplete.

This is not her story.

A number of years ago a young man was driving through the streets of Pierpoint-Langly. More to the point he was waiting in traffic along a third of the city's working population slowly plodded it's way through rush hour. We will call him John Smith, as his real name will not be important to this story or even himself for much longer. This will be the last time John Smith will have to suffer through this indecency in his life.

As he sits patiently, his foot perpetually hovering between the gas and the break, the classics station he has been listening to for the past fifteen minutes begins to fizzle and pop. The dlucid tones of Ob-La-Di jumping and warped by an unfamiliar bit of music, McCartney and Lennon's familiar voices being replaced with that of a haunting woman singing something about destroying everything.

Then the black shadow with red eyes washed over his vision. A thump, like driving over a curb but far louder and yet further away rocked his car. Then there was nothing.

He awoke the next day in the Pierpoint-Langly Emergency Ward, injured but none the worse for wear, to the news that he had been in a horrible accident. The mid afternoon rush hour had turned into the worst pileup in the history of the county.

Two days later, the Emergency Ward collapsed under mysterious circumstances.

John Smith, as he had been, was never heard from again.


Six months later Calamity Moth was born from the ashes. And trust me, there were a LOT of ashes. The ominous song that had played as the red eyed shadow enveloped his mind had haunted the young man in it's accuracy.

"Destroy everything you touch."

So he had turned to a name he had trusted since childhood to help him. The Dangermen.

"Please destroy me in this way."

They trained him and remade him in their image, gave him his name and released him back into the city. The devastation that surrounded him now as much an opportunity as a curse. As one door slammed shut, a dozen others opened in response. Chances to better himself as a person in a method of his choosing and with the skills to help innocents who may otherwise be harmed by his existence.

The path of Danger!


What You Touch You Don't Feel

     Concussive Weapon: superior (rank 2)

  • Area Affect
  • Super Area of Effect
  • Multi-Attack


Sitting ten stories up on one of any number of glass-lined ledges in the city Calamity Moth watched the incomplete building across the street with mild curiosity. Deep in his skull a faint, knowing buzz kept him vigilant. A number of vehicles parked below him and a small group of people made their way into the construction site.

Fifteen minutes later the buzz changed pitch and volume, almost becoming musical as his teeth rattled under his mask, and dust billowed from the uncovered windows of the fourth floor. He could see the structure shudder and almost shift before the sound of the explosion hit him. The sudden sight of more dust rushing out from the floors below it amended his assessment from explosion to explosions.


Red Eyes of Danger

     Danger Sense: standard (rank 1)


The buzz honed itself, focusing him as the first tiny pieces of rubble rushed past and below him. Glass showered around him as scree rocketed past him from the opposite direction. He could feel a few new cuts opening up already but nothing he couldn't handle. That's what the bandages were for anyway.

There was no time to worry about himself, though, as much larger chunks of cement and rebar tumbled upwards from the ruination below.


Made for Misadventure

     Reaction Speed: standard (rank 1)


He stood, dusting off his suit and staring down at the scene below him. The glass still fell and the rubble still flew, the building was still falling and the citizens below were still screaming in shock, but none of that mattered. He needed to react. He needed to move.

Lives hung in the balance.

So as he bled and the world around him roiled in chaos. He moved.


Walkin' On Air

     Energy Wave Surfing: standard (rank 1)


He stepped off the ledge he had been sitting on, directly onto a slab of cement that was moments from impacting with the building that ledge occupied. As he moved things were clearer, more obvious by the second. His next move was a plummeting leap to another significant chunk of detritus below on a slow arc into the sky. The wings on his costume fluttering behind him.

Every step was like this. Sometimes even stepping off of the turbulent air itself, all in the name of moving towards the epicenter of the disaster. Thus he moved, into Danger.



     Force of Will: standard (rank 1)


"... struck today as the new European Embassy being constructed downtown began to collapse during an inspection by investors. Only Jackson Paige, one of the visiting ambassadors, is listed as a casualty however thanks to the local hero Calamity Moth." His TV blared, they always did give the disasters to the loudest young ladies.

His helmet sat on the coffee table, propped up next to the case full of nonconsecutive bills he was currently resting his sore feet on. Fresh bandages wrapped around his body where the littlest fingers of destruction had brushed him. He sipped on a steaming cup of tea as he watched in pride as the woman continued.

"We were able to speak with the Danger Co. representative before he had to run off, probably to save the day somewhere else: 'Oh, it was nothing. Really. I mean, it's what I live for. Being here is what I do, getting in there and getting out those I can. You can't get everybody, of course and I suppose that's some sort of shame. I do what I can though.' We thank Calamity Moth for his valiant efforts. Senator Dolorosa will be addressing-"

He turned the TV off and glanced at the briefcase, a smile playing on his lips. No, he couldn't save everybody. That was the point.