Still here 
Apologies once again for the delay everyone. Work has been full-on and I achieved less than I thought I would. But the ideas are still flowing, I just need a chance to sit down and put them into some sort of order!
Twisting Nether: here is Temporal Strike's origin. It is short, and not terribly sweet, 
but I hope you like it anyway.
Mysterious Flame's origin should not be too far away.
The Origin of Temporal Strike
Prologue:
The dark giant sat on his throne, his ebony skin drinking what little light entered the shadowy room at the heart of the temple. Reaching out with his powerful psychic senses he lightly touched the minds of the guardians of his temple, ensuring everything was secure. An odd disturbance at the western wall drew his attention and he smiled in satisfaction.
"Come to me, little mouse. Come and kill me if you can."
*****************************************
Crouched in the shadows at the base of the tall stone wall, she took several deep breaths to steady herself before continuing. This was the biggest job she had ever attempted in her short career as a killer-for-hire. The almost unbelievable bounty on her target's head threatened to distract her, so she pushed it to the back of her mind. Dressed in form-fitting dark clothing, with her face and long red hair concealed beneath a black ski-mask, she was nearly invisible in the darkness.
Reaching into her backpack, she extracted a grapnel-hook attached to a length of nylon rope. Tossing it lightly upwards it hooked onto the the top of the wall and she quickly ascended. Peering cautiously over the wall she scanned the grounds surrounding the dark-shrouded temple building with the night-sight goggles she had bought with the advance payment from her anonymous employer. She quickly spotted three sentries and four more guards patrolling the area.
Reaching deep inside herself she quickly sank into a meditative state that had taken her years to perfect. A sudden silence fell around her and all motion ceased. Springing down from the top of the wall she ran directly to the nearest entrance, running right by guards seemingly frozen and unseeing.
She felt sweat prickling beneath the ski-mask as she held her focus longer than she had ever done before. Slipping through a doorway she ran along a long, empty corridor, following the map she had memorised, heading straight to the sanctum at the heart of the temple where her target could be found.
As she headed deeper into the labyrinth of corridors, it grew darker and darker until eventually she entered a large cavernous space full of shadows. Seated in the centre of the room was a gigantic black-skinned man who matched the description of her target. Gasping with exertion she held her grip on the timestream, drew her daggers, and snuck up behind him, ready to strike.
"Hello, child. Welcome to my humble home."
She froze in shock as his voice echoed around the room. It was impossible, he should be frozen like all his guards. Before she could react he turned with effortless grace at a speed that seemed impossible for a man his size and wrapped his huge fist around her throat.
"I am the Master of the Black Sun!" He roared like an avalanche. A nimbus of black flame flared around his head as his black eyes gleamed like obsidian marbles. "I am an immortal, unbound by the chains of time! With a blink I can choose the time of your demise. Your tinkering with the flow of time means nothing to me."
He stood up from his throne, effortlessly lifting her from the floor and she began to choke. She slashed desperately with her daggers but the blades shattered against his rock-hard ebony skin. She dropped them and desperately grabbed hold of his arm. Her vision darkened as unconsciousness clawed at her mind. She tried to support her weight and catch her breath as his grip loosened just enough so that she did not pass out.
"Still, you did very well to enter my sanctum. It seems my instincts regarding your abilities were sound when I hired you."
Unable to speak, she widened her eyes in surprise. The Master laughed, a thunderous rumble deep in his chest.
"Yes, little one. It was I who hired you to 'kill' me. A simple but effective trial for those I consider for membership in my guild of assassins. Your abilities can be honed and even enhanced with the right technology making you a very dangerous weapon to wield against my enemies. But first I will learn a little more about you."
The black flames reached towards her, burning the ski-mask into fine ash but leaving her hair and face untouched, but then they sank into her skull and the Master's psychic powers seared her mind like an inferno. They stripped back layers of memories that she had buried deep long ago.
"Hmmm, you showed early promise as a child gymnast and martial artist, pushed on by proud but demanding parents. Ah, until your mutant genes were discovered and you were banned from competition. How your parents' shame and disappointment made you burn with resentment.
"Then the visions started: brief flashes of the future, always involving other people and always of good fortune, pleasant surprises and unsought rewards. Mmmm, that fuelled your resentment, did it not? Always seeing good luck descend on people who did nothing to deserve it, while you suffered under prejudice and unfair expectations with no relief in sight.
"That resentment festered and grew until you could no longer take any pleasure in your life. Oh, very nice, you began to seek out those who were destined to receive something good and did you best to steal it, or destroy it if you could not take it. Then you discovered that the precognitive flashes had given you a 'feel' for the flow of time. Eventually you learned to slow the passage of time to a crawl. A skill that has greatly aided your criminal career." He paused, silent for a moment, then he smiled, a sadistic curl of his black lips.
"Your first kill. Mmmm, I can feel your rage as you struck them down and your refreshing lack of remorse after the fact. The first of many. And now you come to me, a cold-blooded killer but lacking focus and purpose. My guidance will provide that and I see a great future ahead of you here at the Temple of the Black Sun. You will receive everything you deserve and so much more as my handmaiden of destruction." The Master concentrated and his flames burned a dark, curving tattoo across her right cheek.
"Your former life and name no longer exist. You are the weapon held in my right hand. You are the Temporal Strike that will stop time and still the hearts of those who oppose me!"
Condensed ID Card version:
Her mutant genes gifted her with superhuman reflexes and agility. They also cursed her with a limited precognitive ability that showed her just the good things fated to happen to those around her. Sick of seeing good fortune come to those who rarely deserved it, she became first cynical and then actively anti-social. She honed her mutant gifts with martial arts training and after discovering her latent ability to slow time, she pursued a career as a thief and eventually a killer-for-hire.
Recruited by the reclusive Master of the Black Sun Assassin Guild, she became his loyal right hand and his ruthless enforcer. Using the Guild's resources her abilities were enhanced and an implanted chip focused them into a telekinetic blade with the ability to wipe her victim's short-term memories.
All traces of her former life were left behind and she became Temporal Strike, a cold-blooded, nameless assassin.
That, my friend, is a work of art! It perfectly displays everything about her 
It's "short" length is eclipsed by it's perfection. Words fail me.
@Kedeawyth
Co-leader of Vae Victus Sinistus (Freedom/Infinity)
Virtue
Exorii: Lvl 50 Kat/Elec Stalker, fully IO'd, T4 Incarnate
SG: Hands of Ashra
its cool man looking foreward to it
Wow, this is pretty cool. Seeing as I plan on using some of my characters in my fan fiction, it's important to have an origin... but characters like Powerplay don't exactly have origins yet. Sorry there's no screenshots.
Name: Powerplay's his name, at least since he joined the Masters. He cast his old name aside in an act of loyalty to this new group.
Origins: Mutated by the MIB
Powersets: All involve radiation somehow
History: The man that would one day be known as Powerplay had once just been a drug-dealer working in Harlem. Eventually, the secret organization known as the MIB kidnapped him for the Masters project, a mass experimentation involving hundreds of kidnapees. While others had been mutated beyond human appearance, Powerplay still looked like an average African-American human. However, the radioactive material that had been used to give the test subjects their powers had bonded with Powerplay, allowing him to give people powers for as long as he wanted. He found that these powers were, in a way, addicting and he could use them for profit. When Trauma, leader of the Masters, recruited him for their plan to 'make the world like them', Powerplay happily joined.
Style: Serious, please, as the Masters project killed more than it created
Kitchen Sink: It should be noted that Powerplay is addcited to using his powers. If he doesn't use them within a few hours, he begins to suffer nervous breakdowns.
Apologies for the silence on the origin front - have been under the weather lately, but should be back on board with Mysterious Flame soon.
qr
Still lurking
hey scribe this is mysterious flame I was just wondering if you were still going to scribe or not?
Still Scribing - Scribe?
