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Young Adel
Played By: FrozenFire

Young Adel by FrozenFire

TEAM: Reavers


KIT CLASS: Empathy

Empathy Knight Errant

Hall Of Fame!

Survival - 16 wins!

Brutal - 2 fatalaties!

Fight Record
League Wins: 10
League Losses: 2
Out Of League Wins: 6
Out of League Losses: 11
Total Wins: 16
Total Losses: 13
Ataru - Win 17-10
Blackjack - Win 25-7
Dark Vulture - Win 22-4
Captain Edward Miles - Win 18-16
Movie Spy Kent Arrow - Win 20-13
Myrna Rae - Loss 14-15
Combat Lawn Care - Win 19-11
Elisa Cameron - Win 19-9
Forever Lovers - Win 20-8
Ponce El Gadis - Win 13-11
Bad Fanfiction Hunter: Z - Win 24-14
Inju: Romantic Tentacle - Win 26-20
Vegas - Win 33-21
Player One - Win 17-14
Hell's Bookie - Loss 21-22
Arick Huebris - Win 17-12
Christopher Marlowe - Loss 6-11
Solarwind - Loss 6-7
Armageddon Arms Dealer - Loss 2-9
Nathaniel Jarvis - Loss 5-11
Bianca Ordmin - Loss 6-10
Atom-A-Ton - Loss 4-10
The Memoirs of Daniel Van Sant - Win 8-7
Seryph Gibbons - Loss 3-11
Wick & Ed - Loss 1-9

Victor Adel was a good man whose construction company made him very wealthy. In a city were buildings are often damaged or demolished, a lot of rebuilding is required. He loved his wife and six year old son very much and they were happy together. To everyone in Khazan they had a picture perfect life.

However, no life in Khazan is without its trials. There had been hard times for Victor, times when the heroes of Khazan had the villains more or less in check, when business had been slow due to lack of wreakage. In those desperate times, Victor rented out his supply storages to a certain man, a man who claims to be called Smith even though his associates call him Boss or Lieutenant. Smith paid him considerably, under the condition that their arrangement would be under the table. Victor didn't ask why. He knew, or at least suspected, that "Smith" was part of the Syndicate and that he would be better off not knowing what Smith had stored in the company warehouses. Eventually, business picked up; Victor thought of sending Smith and his associates on their way, but decided that the extra money wouldn't hurt. He was afraid to tell the Syndicate what to do as well.

Meanwhile, Victor used his newfound wealth to move his family Uptown. When his son was three, Victor put him in a private starter school. Victor quickly surpassed the other children. At five he also began showing a glimmer of psychic abilities: he could tell how people felt even though they hid it, he could sometimes glean phrases from a persons mind, and, when upset, he could give people an intense headache by staring at them.

So the years past.

After six years of his business and family flourishing Victor decided he didn't need the Syndicate tarnishing his conscience. He called up Smith and told him his decision and told him that he had 48 hours to move his operation out of the warehouses before the Sentinels were informed; then he hung up.

It was four in the morning when Victor awoke. He knew something was wrong, but couldn't tell what. What had woken him up? He listened carefully and heard nothing. Suddenly hungry, Victor decided to get a snack from the kitchen before going back to bed; his stomach must have woken him up. He walked down the hall into the living room and noticed his wife standing in the middle of the room staring back at him. Her eyes were vacant as though she were sleepwalking.

[no, not sleepwalking. she's being manipulated like a puppet. neither her nor her subconscious is in control.] a voice whispered in his mind.

His wife began taking slow steps backwards. "Angela, come here. Let's go back to bed." Victor called.

Angela continued her measured backwards steps. Victor tried to go to her but found he could only walk as slowly as his wife, despite how hard he tried. If she didn't stop she'd walk into--

[wrong again. not into. through. you're going to watch your wife go through the window.] the whisper of a mental voice said.

The distance between Angela and the window slowly shrunk but the distance between husband and wife stayed agonizingly the same. If she went through the window she'd fall forty stories. The window slid open on its own as though inviting Angela into the empty air. If Victor could just get to her he could hold her tight, he could pull her away from the window and they could go back to their happy lives! So he told himself; so he hoped. But the Syndicate didn't take lightly to being scorned.

Angela reached the window. As she toppled over the edge her eyes cleared up. Her face grew confused. "Vic--" she began, then she was gone. Victor tried to scream but couldn't. Angela's scream reached Victor through the window but quickly cut of.

[now if i had let you scream you would not have heard your wife's death cry] the voice that had invaded his mind whispered coldly. Victor then notice the three men in the room. One stood by the front door, and another was sitting on the couch behind Victor. The one on the couch was staring at him intently, without moving, without blinking. [a pleasure to meet you victor] the man whispered telepathically. The third man was Smith, holding a glass of bourbon and looking grim.

"Nasty little business, this is. I'm sorry, but I've been giving orders so long that I don't take them well anymore. I also don't like being threatened, and when the Sentinels are involved I can't let there be a chance that you'd call them anyway." Smith walked up to Victor and drained the glass. "I also hate it when someone hangs up on me." he said calmly. Then he smashed the glass on Victor's head, knocking him to his knees. Smith kicked him in the stomach and walked towards the door. "Take everything. Then torch the place." Victor heard him tell the man by the door before blood blurred his vision. The doorman walked over to Victor and grabbed his head. "If you can look into my eyes, there will be no pain. If you don't, it won't be pleasant." Victor chose to look in his eyes, and the pain drained out of him, along with everything else: his emotions, his memories, his future plans. His last thought was of his son, standing over him, behind the doorman.

The doorman moved out of his way and the boy knelt beside his father. The whispering man watched as the boy realized his father was alive and reach for his father's mind. The boy couldn't feel it. His mother was dead, father was brain dead, and he watched both happen.

[he should not have crossed us. the syndicate settles disputes with blood.] the whisperer sent to the boy. The boy turned on him with glowing eyes and agony ripped through the whisperer's head. He was vaguely aware of a vase colliding with the boy. The pain receded and he caught his breath. Then wearily walked towards the boy.

"We can't kill him. The Boss said he gets the inheritance at twenty-one. A few strings were pulled at Child Services; I'll have custody of him in a week. We'll hone and use his power until then. If you're still alive you could even be the triggerman. Then the Adel fortune will be donated to a charity front that finances the Syndicate. So, you see, the boy is our long term investment."

The whisperer glared at the unconscious boy and strode out of the room. The next morning, the papers reported a great tragedy:

"Adel Penthouse Up In Flames: Son, Sole Survivor, Sent To Live With Godfather."


Personality: For the next 12 years the boy was raised in the Syndicate. He seemed to have lost his talents due to his traumatic experiences, so Smith merely used him as an errand boy. The boy was made comfortable and given anything he asked for, but all he ever asked for was books. His taste in books ranged from Spooky and Scary Stories to The Theories of Quantum Physics and Electrodynamics.

On his eighteenth birthday, the boy vanished. Smith had people searching for him to no avail for three years. Occasionally, Smith would receive greeting cards with mocking or caustic messages: "I hate you", "Burn in Hell", "Enjoy your birthday, you may not have another", or "Polo!". On the boy's twenty-first birthday, the Adel fortune vanished from the bank as well, and someone bought a building in uptown and moved into the penthouse. Adel was back in town and not even trying to hide.




Weak BELOW normal human strength -
can bench press 50 pounds (maybe).


Standard Normal human agility.


Standard Normal human endurance. Mind:


Ultimate Godlike intellect.
Undecipherably complex thought patterns.

Mental Isolation

  • Power: Closed Mind
  • Level:Ultimate
  • Kit Power Link: Empathy
Archades crawled up the sky rise with ease and quickly reached the penthouse balcony. He smirked when the door eased open. When a person has a place this high they never think to lock up. He stepped into the room and went over his orders again: kill Adel; make it look like an accident or of natural causes. Same as always, but then again so was the money and for that amount of cash he could sacrifice variety.

Just then Adel walked around the corner; the two stared at each other a moment, then Archades try to grasp Adel's mind. He would make Adel commit suicide, it had been a while since he had caused one of those. After a few moments Archades realized it was as futile as throwing bricks at a tank.

"I grew up with the Syndicate." Adel stated, "I chose to let my telepathy atrophy because the minds of the Syndicate were vile places. Smith placed me in the care of The Gifted in hopes that they would act as a catalyst to my talents. Instead my mind grew more defiant. Instead of only being deaf to thoughts I was also dumb. Eventually my mind withdrew completely from the psychic conduit.

Think of the psychic conduit as an ocean and our minds are ships. Normally our minds sail across the conduit to spy on or attack other minds. Well my mind is beached on land where others cannot reach it."

Mental Exile

Archades decided that if he couldn't attack Adel's mind then he would attack Adel's body. He reached out with his mind to stop Adel's heart. But something was wrong; he couldn't send his mind out. Archades began to feel panic; it was as though he was suddenly blind or deaf, in many ways it was exactly that. He had lost one of his senses, an extra one, but one he had grown accustomed to.

Adel explained what was happening. "The Gifted tried for months to break into my mind. The more sadistic of them finally resorted to torture. I soon discovered that I could push minds out of the psychic conduit like my mind was. When used against The Gifted, it cuts them off from their talents that required it's use. In a sense, I can cause other minds to be beached as well, unable to travel the waves of the psychic conduit."

Complex Concepts

  • Power: Mind Blast
  • Level:Supreme
  • Auto-Hit This mental attack hits the target automatically, but may or may not effect them.
Archades' hand darted for his dagger. He wasn't going to be able to make this look like an accident, he'll have to make it look like a break-in.

An unbearable pain suddenly ripped through his head, like his skull was being torn open and his brain picked through. The pain started to recede and he noticed he was on the ground, his knife was several feet away. "I never did lose my talent for causing mental damage. I discovered how it works though. It's difficult to explain, but I'll try. What happens is that I send a portion of the psychic conduit through your mind. Imagine part of the ocean travel through a ship. It's too much for the ship, or the mind, to take and causes quite a bit of damage." Archades didn't know what hurt his head more: Adel's attack or his explanation.

Emotion Manifestation

  • Power: Eldrich Blast
  • Level:Superior
  • Double Damage Causes Double the damage to Empathy class characters.
Adel's hands crackled with energy. Dark plasma swirled and twisted through his fingers. He raised one hand to his face and smiled; the image was terrifying: Adel's vicious smile and the deadly energy reflecting in his eyes and sparking from his fingertips. "An amazing side-effect of being psychic is that we're much more in tune with our emotions. If those emotions grow intense enough they can manifest themselves through our talents into the physical realm, bypassing the psychic conduit. Amazing isn't it. Can you guess what emotion I'm manifesting now?" Archades didn't have to guess, he knew: Hatred was reflected in Adel's eyes; hatred crackled in his hands.

"I'll tell you. Hate has been manifested. I hate the Syndicate so intensely that I've made it a weapon against them." Adel walked over to Archades and stood over him. "The only thing I hate more than the criminals that roam our streets are psychics who use their gifts for unworthy purposes." Archades saw the sizzling energy pointed his way, he saw a condemning flash of dark light, then he saw no more.

Mind Games

  • Power: Tactician
  • Level:Superior
  • Kit Power Link: Empathy
The next morning three people received a letter with their morning paper.

The first letter read:

Dear Jonathan Iverson a.k.a. "Smith",

Years ago you made a deal with my father that sealed his fate. It also sealed mine...and yours. I will be a curse to you and your operation. Your reign over this group of misguided mentalists has ended. If I don't kill you, I'll cause enough problems that some young upstart will.



The second read:

Dear Alexander Martin a.k.a. The Whisperer,

For years you've enjoyed getting into peoples heads and torturing them. You tortured my father that way as you killed my mother; I believe that causes a dispute between us. I am not an affiliate of the Syndicate, even though I was raised within it, but you are. Remember, the Syndicate settles it's disputes with blood.



The last read:

Dear Samuel Akito a.k.a. The Doorman,

You've spent your carrier with the Syndicate acting as the clean up man. Never coming in until there was no turning back. You would tell yourself that your victims were in pain and you were merely putting them to rest. You had a conscience which makes you worse than your colleagues in many ways. You were always kind to me but never let me out of the Syndicate's grasp. I'll show you what the Syndicate raised.




Alex stepped out of the room where he was interrogating a client that owed The Boss some money. He didn't like that term, "interrogating"; it was a term for his more conscious-minded colleagues to use so they could sleep at night. People like Akito, the pathetic swine, who have the wrong heart for the business they're in. What Alex Martin did for The Boss was considered torture. Alex had no problem with that word; no euphemisms needed.

Alex walked into the his building still brooding in his thoughts. "Hello Mr. Martin," the night watchman said; but he was thinking [that guy gives me the creeps]. Alex smiled to himself, he liked people being uncomfortable around him, it was proof he was superior to them. He rode up to his apartment on the 103rd floor.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he stepped into the apartment. There was a presence there that shouldn't be. Then he saw Adel sitting on a recliner in the living room, staring at him with a gaze that could shame Medusa. Alex's initial reaction was to reach out and take control of Adel's mind but he knew their was no point, Adel's mind was hardly reachable.

Even after receiving a letter from Adel, after reading that a Syndicate assassin was thrown from the roof of a building after having his head blown off, after hearing reports that a man was destroying many of the Boss's safe houses around Khazan, Alex didn't believe that Adel was back in town. Young Adel was like the boogeyman to Alex: a scary story told to keep the underlings in check. Alex had gone through Adel's mind again and again when he was a child and could find no psionic potential there. The trauma he went through sealed off his talents.

But now it was very apparent that Adel was not only in town, but in his apartment as well. Alex reached for his pistol, just before the pain ripped through his head and all he could see was a bright light that burned badly even though his eyes were closed. The pain eased up, the white hot light faded, and he found himself leaning on the counter. Gun forgotten he threw up his guards against mental intrusions, determined not to get caught by another wave of Adel's mind assaults. Adel smiled, a smile of loathing but a smile nonetheless, and began to speak.

"Do you remember the time you brought me here? I think I was seven or eight years old, and "Smith" had given up on reviving my mental talents. Almost everyone but you had by then. You decided that they were going to soft on me and thought that I'd react better to more brutal tactics." Adel eyes never moved from Alex as he spoke. Those eyes looked far too old to be sitting in such a young face; eyes aged by years of sorrow and hatred.

"You sat me here, in the very chair I'm sitting in now, and starting digging through my head, grasping anything that you managed to find and declaring it proof that my mind could be unlocked. You brought in some friends of yours and began torturing me mentally and physically on a weekly basis. They picked at my mind, prying at anything they could to see into my head. It was an incredibly painful process for me, I would have simply opened my mind up if I had control over my mental defenses. Instead I had to suffer, but not in vain: I learned quite a few tricks for digging my way into a persons mind." Adel brushed past Alex's mental defenses; it was as simple as toppling a house of cards.

"So your guards and wards are nothing. Your defenses toppled by the same tactics you once tried to use on me. Well, Whisperer, now you can see the talents you desired to exploit so long ago." Dark energy began to swirl around Adel's hand. Alex was hit with another wave of mental pain, he was on his knees now and was wondering where his gun was. Adel's hand crackled even more, reflecting eerily in his eyes. Alex stared back into those eyes, and hoped his death would be quick. Adel raised his hand, gave Alex one last look of malice, and unleashed his fury upon him.