Gender: Male

Kit: Super

Location: Storm City, Khazan


Alignment: Hero

Team: The Sentinels of Liberty and Justice


Strength: superior (rank 2)

Agility: standard (rank 1)

Mind: standard (rank 1)

Body: superior (rank 2)

Spirit: (rank )

Charisma: (rank )


Fame Points: 687

Personal Wins: 36

Personal Losses: 2

Team Wins: 0

Team Losses: 0

Tourney Wins: 0

Tourney Losses: 0


Status: Active


Will Fairweather is the best damned kid I ever met, and fuck you if you don’t think so. There’s a lot of things said about the SLJ that don’t add up, and that is what it is, but people targeting Will is a different story. All that shit in the papers and trashy celebrity mags, they call him Steel Will, or The Shining Sentinel, or take a poll about his sex appeal, and it’s all pointless. Sure he’s popular, but I say good for him, if anyone deserves it it’s that guy. Some jealous asshole is always trying to talk shit about Will and if I ever hear it I make it a point to put that piece of trash through a wall. Look, it’s not like I’ve got a crush on the guy, but I know what he’s been through and most people don’t.

My dad died when I was 11, and he was more of a hero than I’ll ever be. He got a plaque under The Willow and I got sent to school in the March, because that’s what the SLJ recommended and mom wasn’t in any kind of position to argue. She never had much of a spine- never needed much of a spine- because Dad took care of every confrontation. Looking back, compared to the rest of my life at that time, changing schools was pretty easy for me. I already had my powers by then, I was a head taller than anyone else in my class. I was pissed at the world, and I did a lot of stupid shit. Mostly, I caused excessive property damage. Will lost both his parents that same month- their plaques sit in the same row as my old man’s- and he ended up a grade below me. Will had no powers then, at least I don’t think he did, he was just a skinny little twig who never talked to anyone but always made top marks. I didn’t bother bullying him much- I mean, I guess I bullied everyone a little, but he managed to stay below my radar. I mostly knew him from those stupid group counseling sessions we had to sit through (genius idea: take the most fucked up kids in the school, put them in a room together for two hours, and try to get them to open up about their feelings.) I punched the shit out of everything back then, and broke my hand probably fifteen times on those rare occasions when I decided to hit someone or something tougher than I was. Will was the opposite, he just internalized all of it. There were, I don’t know, six or seven of us, maybe eight, who had plaques in Signal Park, but Will was the only one with two of them. He never talked in group, and honestly I don’t remember hearing his voice until high school. I had been held back in grade seven, and we ended up in the same class. We got transferred to The Anderson Prescott Magnet School for Metahuman Development. First day in another new school, and I broke my hand on his jaw, which should give you an idea of the kind of kid I was: taking a swing at the only familiar face in the building. Will had gotten a bit bigger by then and we both played lacrosse and he tutored me in chem Junior year, highest grade I got that year, and when I was about to drop out during Amanda’s pregnancy scare he talked me out of it. I was still occasionally a bully in high school, I guess- old habits die hard- but never around Will. He just had this way of smiling, the saddest smile you ever saw, and suddenly you felt different, like, I don’t know, life is precious and shit. I honestly never expected to graduate, and I sure as hell never made any plans for what to do afterward.

Six months before school was out my case worker comes to me and asks if I have any thoughts on my future. Nope. She hands me this pamphlet. Will is on the cover. The SLJ had this program where they’d pay for 2 years of junior college, and in return I had to help build homeless shelters or whatever. I also had to attend combat training on the weekend, which was whatever, not as much fun as you’d imagine. It’s one thing to be in a schoolyard brawl with two lizard mutants and a Russian exchange student- it’s another thing entirely to get your ass handed to you by retired Black Serpent Supersoldiers. To be honest I didn’t think I’d get in because of my grades and attendance in school, but my case worker wrote a real nice letter and Will put in a good word for me, and thank god because otherwise I know I would’ve ended up with Ronnie Burns pulling black-and-blues for some Syndicate jambo. As it was, I worked my ass off and got an AAS in Construction Management, (I did enough property damage growing up, it was only fair,) and I got a great apprenticeship under Granite Guardian in the Bravo Sentinels. Will worked with us for a little while, but he got called up by Miss March last year and I rarely see him any more except on the news, flying over the city. Still, he deserves it. Everything good in my life happened because I knew Will Fairweather.


You’ve probably never heard of my dad unless you’re a Sentinel fanboy, but for eight years he was known as Boilerplate and to me he was the greatest hero of all time. He was part of this team called Street Justice, they get a bad rap for shit that wasn’t their fault, but they were still heroes. Dad’s favorite band was Poison; we used to listen to them on tape because we didn’t have a CD player. I was the master of the air guitar when I was a kid, so at some point I got the nickname C.C. and it stuck. My mom is literally the only one who still calls me “Elliot.” Everyone at the SLJ knows me as C.C. too, and when Blind Mike came to me a few months back and asked if I would be interested in taking my dad’s old code name, I balked. I know what they were trying to do, but I’ll never be even half the hero my dad was. I’ve turned my life around a lot since high school, but there’s no way I could ever live up to that.

By the way, before you even ask, no. I don’t have any opinions on Castro, El Fuego, or the Miami tower grid. Mom and Dad came to Khazan before I was born, and I’ve never even seen Cuba except as a backdrop when I’m on vid with my family. I speak English without an accent, and I can’t get you cigars. Just so we’re clear.


Every Rose Has Its Thorn

     Berserker: standard (rank 1)


Working for Granite Guardian is honestly the hardest job I’ve ever had. He’s a stickler for punctuality, appearance, civility, work ethic, and a bunch of other stuff I never took the time to learn when I was a kid. He can be a real hardass, and he’s got this way of communicating a thousand words without even opening his mouth. I’ve felt like an idiot plenty of times. He’s also the most loyal boss anyone could ever ask for. There is no question that man has my back 100%, and even if he is kind of stuck on rules and manners, I know he’d go to bat for me, which makes me want to work my ass off for him.

One thing about the Bravo Sentinels that I learned real quick- it’s not a pissing contest. My first day on the job Granite Guardian had me hauling half-ton spools of mooring cable up from the Clacks- and by noon I was so beat I couldn’t think straight long enough to sign my time sheet. It can be hard on the ego- Will used to carry four at a time no sweat- but I’ve learned to appreciate my limitations. Still, sometime the job calls for some extra muscle, and then limitations be damned. I might not be able to bench press skyscrapers, but get me pissed and I can still chuck a Prius at you. I’m not sure exactly where Dad’s strength maxed out- I saw him lift a bus once, and I can get pretty close to that- but I can’t maintain it for very long and I can’t really focus on anything else when I’m using the full extent of my strength.

It’s funny as shit to watch the new guys now, the ones who go all out on the first day. The more they push themselves trying to impress Guardian, the more likely they are to make good Bravos. It took me a long time to figure out that if you’re just honest and work hard, people want to see you succeed.


Look What The Cat Dragged In

     Kinetic Absorption: standard (rank 1)


In spite of what you might have heard about the Bravo Sentinels, working on Granite Guardian’s crew means I don’t see much combat action. I don’t mind, really, I sucked at SLJ combat training, and to be honest, some of my coworkers are so powerful in a fight that I end up running for cover. I’ve seen Guardian and Blind Mike- just the two of them- stop a tsunami from wiping out the old Canal District in Dockside. I’m just glad that we spend most of our time doing other stuff. I like construction, and I’m really getting to know the business. I know more electricians, plumbers, and masons than I do superheroes, to be honest, and there are days when I think about leaving the Bravo Sentinels and just being a general contractor.

Still, I’ve got my dad’s power, even though I’ve never really taken the time to develop it. I’ve always been able to take a hit like a prizefighter. The first hit hurts the most, but then my body reacts and gets tougher, and each time afterward seems to hurt less and less. Some people think it’s just grit, or willpower, but honestly I owe it to my inherited abilities. That was why dad was such a good hero- the more you hit him, the tougher he got. It didn’t save him in the end, though.


Something to Believe In

     Concussive Weapon: superior (rank 2)

  • Ranged Attack
  • Multi-Attack


Have I already told you how much I hated combat training? I can’t figure out why some of these guys go through it five or six times- once was plenty. I didn’t mind the academics of it, and I can see how basic group safety and teamwork strategies are made mandatory for all recruits, but the physical stuff was like torture. They do all these tests of your potential and then build your personal program around that. I wasn’t exactly living up to my potential, you know, and combat training made me pay for that. It’s not that the test is designed to injure and humiliate people, it’s just that it does that pretty consistently.

I know exactly why they do it, because I never learned to use my powers very effectively, and if it didn’t remind me of dad so much I’d be down on the range practicing every lunch break. Sure, I can throw a punch- literally- but dad used to be able to crush steel from across the room with his concussive lance. Not me… the power of the concussive lance is something I used to screw around with as a kid because I wanted to copy my father, but it’s not something anyone ever taught me how to use properly. I mean, I can do it, sort of, and it looks impressive as shit, but it's enough to smash through a wall and not much else. Plus, firing a bolt of concussive energy from fifty feet away and actually hitting the target are two different things entirely. Whatever, I might not be the most powerful Bravo Sentinel ever to lace up a pair of boots, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own in a fight. Plus, I’ve got friends in high places. Literally.