Okay, i've has anothr crack at this creative writing lark, please find below the origin story for my villain. As usual comments and feedback are appreciated.
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My name is Dr Stephan Astramovitch, and as I sit here in this cell I cannot help but curse the events and in particular the actions of one so called "hero" that led me to be here.
I am (or more accurately was) a researcher for the Crey Corporation working in the hazardous materials division. Some months ago now I was researching a new radioactive compound that a Crey field research team had "appropriated" from the Rikti in Cray's folly.
This new compound, that I had named Astramium showed amazing potential as both a source of limitless energy and also as a mutagenic catalyst. As such I had been instructed by the countess herself to apply the benefits of this new isotope to improve the work done by the revenant hero project.
The early tests were to say the least slightly less than completely successful, in fact the first three paragon protectors infused with Astramium in order to augment there abilities met a less than ideal end. Subject alpha was horribly burned over 95% of his body, however he was somewhat more fortunate than subjects beta and delta.
I was never able to fully reconstruct what happened to these two test subjects, however the after effects of the process were all too clear, 2 fully grown and developed paragon protectors entered the infusion chamber, however only a charred and twisted heap of bones remained once the smoke had cleared.
Disillusioned with my early test results and the unwillingness of Crey corporation executives to provide me with any further test subjects I finally resorted to less than ethically sound methods to further my research. As a result of the destruction in the aftermath of the Rikti war there is a sizeable homeless population in Paragon city and it was an extremely simple task to lure a number of these dispossessed citizens into my makeshift lab facilities. After some months of tireless research I was able to infuse these new subjects with a number of enhanced abilities including the ability to infuse there body and that of other subjects in the immediate area with a as yet unidentified radiation that greatly increased the reaction times and physical performance of the subjects, in addition several of the subject demonstrated an ability to project concentrated streams of radiation from their appendages. This showed enormous potential for commercial gain if applied to Cray's private security forces.
Buoyed up as I was by my recent successes, I must confess that I became less than cautious in my rush to acquire further subjects for the next round of testing. It appears that my actions at that time came to the attention of a freelance reporter, an irritating pest who has dogged the efforts of Crey for some time now.
The idiot reporter unable to prove that any criminal activity was being undertaken with the express consent of the corporation set one of his lapdogs on my trail, an idiotic "hero" known as Pyrotorch. This fool was known to me from my work on an aborted project some years ago codenamed Inferno.
From my prior knowledge of this particular costumed fool I held no fears that his limited intellect would allow him to track me to my laboratory. Later I have come to realise that in underestimating this hero I made the first mistake that led to my downfall.
That night I was engrossed in my work dissecting a particularly intriguing specimen who had mutated an ability to emit a particularly toxic nerve agent from his pores. Engrossed as I was in the autopsy on this individual I failed to notice that the security perimeter of my laboratory had been breached. In no time at all the idiot hero had overwhelmed my security and had released the specimens that had survived the mutation relatively intact. Unfortunately as the process had severely damaged their mental faculties they quickly became enraged and attacked everything insight including the idiot hero. I watched with a smug grin on my face, as the fool who had caused me so much trouble several years ago was overwhelmed under a sea of the very victims he had sought to liberate.
As I stood smirking in triumph over the mass of bodies covering the hero I began to feel an increase in temperature and without warning a huge explosion burst forth form the hero and sent my test subjects myself and the entire contents of my lab shooting backwards awash with flame.
I was sent crashing across my lab until the liquid storage vats containing my experimental supply of Astramium interrupted my flight. As I lay there, my body wracked with pain I say the hero Pyrotorch activating his emergency medical transporter as my lab was consumed in flames and the surviving test subjects fled the area.
I dont know how long I lay there in that pool of Astramium before I regained consciousness but it would appear I managed to recover quicker than the hero, as I was able to escape the burning remains of my laboratory before he was able to return and send me the Zig. In my rush to escape the lab I did not have time to stop and [censored] the extent of my injuries, and it was not until I reached a nearby storm drain where I sought refuge that I realised the injuries caused to me by the idiotic hero and foolish actions in my lab. The combination of Pyrotorch's flames and my exposure to the liquid Astramium had left an indelible impression on my body. My face was covered in horrendous scarring and the actions of the radioactive compound had begun to cause necrosis in the flesh, as it was already beginning to drop away in sickening lumps. Worse still it appeared that the explosion had partially severed my right arm as it now hung sickeningly limp at my side. My mind boiled with thought of revenge at this time but I knew that immediate action was required deal with my injuries
With little time left to me and my options rapidly running dry I sought out the only 'people' nearby who could, the so-called Freakshow. I eventually stumbled upon a group of Freakshow in the further reaches of Cray's folly and having had experience with this particular group of misfits before they were only too happy to assist me, for a particularly vast fee of course. Desperate as I was at this time I made what I now realise was my second mistake, I bartered on my position within Crey and promised the Freakshow a sum of money I had no ability to provide.
Whilst the Freakshow could by no means be considered the finest of medical practitioners, their ministrations were at least extremely effective. They were able to halt the necrosis in my flesh, although they could not repair the damage done and they were also able to provide me with a new arm as my right arm had passed the point of repair. Although it took some persuasion I was able to convince the Freakshow that an arm with a functioning hand was all that was required, despite their assertion that some king of giant lobster claw or huge hammer would be more 'cool'. As a result of my exposure to the liquid Astramium and the cybernetic reconstruction undertaken by the Freakshow it appeared that I had begun to develop the ability to project beams of concentrated energy as seen in several of my test subjects, although thankfully I saw no signs of any of the accompanying mental degradation experienced by my test subjects.
After several weeks of surgery I left the Freakshow, with promises to return forthwith with payment. As I left Cray's folly I pondered my predicament, my personal financial reserves were in no way sufficiently adequate to sate the avarice of the freaks and Crey would have followed standards procedure following the attack on my lab by that fool Pyrotorch, therefore I knew that not only would Crey not acknowledge I worked for them it would indeed appear that I had never been employed by them.
As I assessed my options it became clear that there were only two options available to me, I could either confess my inability to pay to the Freakshow, or I could take radical action to secure funding. The first option appeared somewhat of a poor choice as I had no desire to end my life in what would no doubt turn out to be a particularly brutal fashion. It therefore seemed apparent that I would have to rely on my newfound abilities and pursue a slightly less than legal approach.
With a little planning I located a suitable target, a branch of Paragon savings & loan located within founders falls and therefore somewhat isolated form the main centres of the city, covering my face with a mask (both to disguise my identity and to cover up my somewhat horrifically disfigured face) I entered the bank the bank and proceeded to demand money from the teller, the combination of my cybernetic arm and the mask on my face had the desired effect and I was soon fleeing the scene with a sufficiently large quantity of money.
However my euphoria at the relative ease of my heist was short lived for no sooner had I left the premises, when who should I see strolling along but that idiot here Pyrotorch! The fool took one look at my appearance and the large sack I was carrying before leaping to his conclusion. As he issued a warning to stop I increased my speed in an effort to escape, I had not gone five paces before I felt a searing impact on my back and I fell to the floor lapsing into unconsciousness.
When I awoke I found myself here in a cell at the Ziggurat, and it is here that I have remained for what feels now like an eternity. Making use of the time available to me I have in secret been experimenting with the abilities granted to me by my exposure to the Astramium and have become quite adept at controlling the flow of energy within my body. All that is required now is an opportunity and then I can shake off these shackles of incarceration and take my revenge!
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