Welcome to Gaia! ::

(Yes I gave him long hair)

Name: Andrew S. Hickory
Superhero Name: Magical Girl TN
Nation: Tennessee
Age: 16
Superpowers: Magical Girl stuff like hope and love or some crap like that.
Backstory: When his older siblings, George Christian and Charlotte, FINALLY convinced Andrew to go with them to an anime convention no one could have predicted the strange turn of events that would change his life forever. Though he was suspicious and reluctant to accept the oddity of con culture he soon found himself enjoying his brother and sister’s company despite the peculiar atmosphere. While waiting for them in the dealer’s room he came across a strange, withered old man sitting at a table in the back corner. Something about the plush dolls and precariously clad figurines at this table was different from the others and it drew in the curious Andrew. The dealer smirked when the unsuspecting boy’s eyes fixed on one of the mystery prize boxes. For just $7.99 the customer could open the box and receive one of five special figurines featured on the back and also have the opportunity of getting a rare prize! It was a gamble and Andrew wasn’t much of a gambling man unless he was betting on horse races with his family. Just as he started to walk away, the dealer suddenly forced one of the boxes into his hand and told him it was free. Not one to like accepting gifts from strangers, Andrew started to raise his voice in protest, but when he looked up the dealer had vanished into the crowd of otaku.

Well, that was creepy. Extremely creepy and Andrew almost threw the box in the trash, but stopped when he heard Christian and Charlotte returning. When they asked him about the box he told them the story and was surprised to hear getting free swag at conventions wasn’t all that uncommon. He still wasn’t sure he wanted it. However, when Christian insisted it was a souvenir of their first convention together he rethought his impulses to trash it. Even if it was an odd bobble he knew how much his siblings had wanted to take him to a convention for years and it was an important experience to them. There was no way he could throw away a keepsake like that… at least not while they were both still standing there. So Andrew reluctantly pocketed his swag.

The trio headed out to the last major event of the day in the main auditorium. It seemed that there was to be a cosplay contest which Christian was taking part in and Charlotte was enthusiastic about getting pictures. Andrew dug himself in for the long haul. He had seen the line for participants and knew it would take forever for each of them to have their moment on stage. Though his sister was having fun taking snap shots, Andrew was struggling to stay awake and hoped he’d be able to prevail at least long enough for Christian to step out. If his brother caught him napping during his special cosplay moment there would be drama all the way back to the hotel. Just as he felt his resolve to stay awake slipping, the lights suddenly went out. A murmur fell over the crowd but before anyone could think to go check on the electricity, a spotlight shown down upon the stage to reveal a monster of some standing among the contestants. With a roar the creature jumped forward and screeched about how it deserved to win this more than anyone and no one else understood their character the way they did. Andrew and Charlotte sat in shock as they wondered if this was part of the show. Most of the audience seemed to think so and began to chuckle at the monster’s hissy fit.

The announcer nervously looked around for help and found it in George Christian as the blonde boy stepped out from the rest of the contestants to confront the monster. The audience cheered for the hero who was taking a stand for all cosplayer kind against the tyranny of sore losers. Though this was an impromptu performance the announcer hadn’t been informed of, he stepped back and began to narrate the unfolding events like it was a crude sentai drama. When Christian told the monster to accept that it lost and suck it up, the creatures suddenly charged and a fight broke out on stage. Andrew and Charlotte rose from their seats anxiously watching and wondering if this was real or not. Despite their brother’s skill it was hard for a mere mortal to stand up to such a monstrosity and eventually it sent him skidding across the stage with a well placed claw. The siblings cried out in dismay and anger before charging the stage and rushing to the blonde’s side. Andrew stood between the attacker and his downed brother while Charlotte checked on his condition, but he wasn’t sure how much better he would fair unarmed. When the monster lunged again, he braced himself for impact…

Out of the overhead lighting a new combatant swung onto the stage, their foot burying deep into the jumping monster’s gut and kicking it away from the trio. Andrew could only gawk at their savior who was nothing more than a little piglet. Actually, hadn’t he seen this piglet before following him around? That’s right! Violet! Before he could question what was going on, the porker had run to him and dug the box from earlier out, forcing it into his hands. He quirked a brow at her and wondered what was going on, but the grim urgency of her expression told the boy he should just do what she wanted and opened the box. Inside lay a small, rolled up flag crumpled pitifully in the bottom corner. It wasn’t exactly impressive nor did it look especially helpful. However, when Andrew reached in and touched the flag it began to glow. Dropping the box and stepping away did no good for the flag was active and suddenly expanded, wrapping around Andrew and changing his clothing.

“What the Hell!?”

Andrew gawked down at himself in horror to see that he was now dawned in an outfit that strongly resembled the flag that had assaulted him. That was pretty alarming, but what really got to him was the sudden breeze between his legs. The poor boy almost crumpled in on himself as he struggled to tug the skirt he was wearing down further. This was beyond indecent! This was an insult to his manhood! This was—Violet slapped him.

Andrew blinked at the piglet a moment in shock before slowly nodding to her to let her know he had control over himself again. For some odd reason, now that the initial shock had subsided, he knew exactly what to do. Calling forth his Lyric Rifle the weapon materialized in his hands and he opened fire on the monster. Once it seemed to be weakened, he dismissed the magical weapon and summoned the holy tomahawk with the blade that could banish all whiny little pussies. As the Super Magical Angelic Ultimate Flowery Giga Tomahawk formed he planted his a** kicking boot on the monster’s face before driving his blade into its heart to shatter the pussiness that had corrupted this poor soul. The monster screamed as all of its bratty, obnoxious energy dissipated and it returned to the form of an innocent otaku. Andrew sighed in relief, glad he no longer had to listen to anymore bitching as he stepped back and looked out to see the audience going wild for what they thought had been a great skit.

The boy’s cheeks flushed nervously as he gripped his skirt and tried to pull it down further to which all the girls in the room squealed about him being moe moe desu. Andrew looked over miserably at his startled siblings who only offered him stunned looks while Charlotte’s camera almost instinctively continued to snap shots of him in a cute, frilly dress. Andrew was so humiliated he even felt a few tears gather in his eyes but he sucked them up because that’s what real men do. However, he couldn’t stop himself from turning and running out of the room it what was most definitely a strategic retreat. Eventually his transformation ended and the flag floated before him.

“You are a chosen one! There are 49 others like you. In order to stop the world from withering into a spineless, pathetic mass of useless flesh heaps you must gather them all and—HEY!!”

Andrew had heard more than enough from this flag and quickly stuffed it into a nearby garbage can. There was no way he was going to risk getting put in a dress again no matter what the reason. He then kicked the trash can down a hill and sighed in relief as he headed back towards the hotel where he could hopefully get to his sister’s camera before she could get to the internet…

Thus, the world was doomed to bratty, obnoxious behavior and all was lost.

....

Hey, the rules never said he had to be an effective hero.



(Too lazy to color the weapons.)

Name: Landon Blackwell Jones
Superhero Name: Caliente (Sheriff)
Nation: United States, California
Age: 17
Superpowers: Aquatic Summoning (can create and manipulate water up to 3000 cubic feet), Dragon Whip, Spurs (missing)
Backstory: It had been simply another day of surfing for the Golden State. He had tried to invite Louisiana and Florida to come over to his place for the day, since he didn't want to suffer the triple digits alone, but neither bro could make it; both pled prior commitments, but it was obvious why they wouldn't come. This day was actually hotter than most--Landon had not experienced 129-degree weather since the drought immediately following the Dust Bowl-- but the unusual lack of people on on the oceanfront made this a wonderful day to go surfing. The movie directors had been waiting for such a day for months and had fairly begged Landon to perform for them on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Never one to pass up time on the big screens, the Californian went along quite willingly. Neither party knew just how momentous this movie op would be.

Once they arrived at the secluded islet of Marina, Landon started surfing and the directors started rolling. He juked and flipped and tumbled through the waves, wielding every trick he knew, inventing some as he went, and simply reveling in the moment. Why would anyone ever want to remain cooped up inside a stuffy house with an air conditioner that could collapse at any moment when they could simply get out and surf? For their part, the directors were tracking the state's every move. No surfer was as good as California personified, and to them, every graceful dive was pure gold.

But then, as is the curse of every good day, something went wrong. One of the directors had overextended himself and ventured too far out on the metal lever that was holding him and his camera aloft. It slowly tipped downward, falling with increasing rapidity as it went, taking director and device down with it. Landon's eyes widened, and he shouted a warning to the man even as he dashed over to catch him. Fortunately, the director recognized his peril in time; with a mighty leap fueled by desperation, he scrambled back to the safety of the island.

His camera, however, was not so lucky. As the camera was fixed in place upon the lever, man and state could only watch as it tumbled wildly through the air before sinking deep beneath the waves, its footage lost forever to the world.

As one, the other directors flipped their machines off and rounded on the one who had lost his, shouting hateful imprecations at him and at each other, while he fired back with equal intensity. Anyone would soon weary of such a fruitless argument, but Landon, an impatient state at heart, became exasperated after a mere ten minutes. He decided right then and there that he would have to do something, because he would never great the end of it if these directors lost their toy and he did nothing to help. After bellowing up at the squabbling men that he was going to shut them up and retrieve the camera himself, Landon somersaulted neatly off his American flag-patterned board and executed a perfect dive into the water.

He forged his way quickly through the aquatic medium, ignoring the curious creatures that trailed him as he went, his gaze focused on the sinking camera. Amazingly, the lights on the device were still blinking with mechanical vigor, and the Californian quickly caught up to it. He reached his arms out to grab it, grinning as he did. He couldn't wait to see the looks on the directors' faces when he returned this camera to them in perfect working condition.

But as soon as he wrapped his hands around it, Landon knew something was wrong. The camera felt abnormally hot, and it scalded his torso badly, as if it was overheating. But that made no sense; it was underwater; how could it be so hot? ... Oh no!

Landon flung the thing bodily away from him and stroked backwards a quickly as he could, trying desperately to alleviate the searing pain across his chest and get away from the camera before it exploded, not thinking even once in this life-or-death situation of all the girls who would flee from him because of this burn. But it was no use; Landon could see that by the rapidly blinking light on its metal exterior, he had gotten too near. As if in slow motion, he watched as the camera blinked red, white, and exploded, the deadly-hot waves of energy racing out to engulf him in their deadly embrace. But a man who knows he is doomed still tries, California continued kicking backwards, curling his arms around him in a futile attempt to shield himself. Is this how it ends?

But the pain of oblivion never came. Cautiously, Landon cracked open first one eye, then the other, before uncoiling from his fetal position and gazing around in awe. He was awash in a sea of light, yet he didn't feel the least bit injured. Actually, he felt amazingly perfect, as if his injury had never happened. And Landon soon discovered why: Not only had his horrific burn been eradicated, but his outfit had also changed dramatically. Gone were his patriotic board shorts and his worn old flips; now he sported a silky cowboy jacket, emblazoned with a letter C, complete with chaps and boots. The Californian even had a swanky hat to match, he found to his delight as his questing fingers brushed against the soft leathery material. A midnight-black whip hung at his hip, and as he uncooked it and gave it a crack, it metamorphosed into a sapphire serpent that roared as it rocketed forward. Out of curiosity, Landon snapped his fingers in a random direction, and a massive swell of water surged up from out of nowhere and wove around him protectively. Landon had never commanded so much water to him before, and he reveled in his newfound power. But as much as he delighted in these new abilities, he had no idea what they were for, or if he even truly had them. This wasn't the first time his mind had gone running and left his body behind.

Before long, California's questions were answered. In front of him was the camera, unusually intact for something that had blown up just a moment ago. As he watched, the camera morphed into a wizened old man raising power and justice. The old man slowly lifted his arms to the sky. His eyes locked with Landon's, and he knew instantly what had to be done.

As suddenly as he had appeared, the old man vanished. The whole unearthly scene dissipated around him, and Landon found himself suspended several meters above the sea. The directors were gawking up at him from the island cliffs, dumbly staring and pointing at the strange vaquero in the sky. Landon suddenly realized that he hadn't rescued their camera from the ocean's depths yet. He reared back in the air with his whip in hand before revoking and cracking it down. The weapon metamorphosed into the sing sapphire dragon, which dived after the lost camera. After a moment, Landon recalled it, leaning back to whip both dragon and camera out of the water before snatching the latter from the air with a single hand and letting the former erode away. Then he dived back down to the flabbergasted movie directors and presented them with the recovered device. The men were too astonished for words at first, but when they recovered, it was with such cheering and fanfare that one might think they were engaging in a party to welcome the president. Landon smiled politely and told them to think nothing of his recovery of the camera, but his mind was already in the clouds. In a moment, he was too, gone in a puff of stream to help other citizens in need.