Smog

* Casual 1
* Casual 2
* Villain

### Noticeable Features

A few scars on his torso.His back is covered with tattoos to hide the scars on his back. "Only a coward has scars on his back."White Hair.Smokes a lot.

## Personality

His vulgarity is dwarfed only by the number of cigarettes he smokes. Amon demands respect, especially from those who don't know him personally, and his short fuse goes off easily if he is disrespected intentionally. He is capable of admiring people, but his admiration is won through hard work, and by proving yourself capable. Even so, those admired by him may find themselves the butt of one of his jokes just as easily.

Narcissistic Pessimism is his motto. "If you go against me, you'll be stain on the pavement.". Narcissitically Pessimistic, for others.

Yet, this is only one side of the coin named Amon.

He can be serious too, when the situation calls for it, usually when he believe his life may be in danger if he continues messing around. This transformation is often marked by him brushing back his hair, quite literally transforming himself with a new hairstyle. In this mental state, he often drops most vulgarities, and instead focuses on his colder, more calculating side. He's calmer, less prone to mindless violence, and usually smarter. He is not so forgiving if you get in his way, as he would be if he weren't serious.

He makes most public displays of his villainy in such a fashion, fully aware that he cannot take Heroes lightly, even if they seem to pose little threat to him. Besides, he needs to act cool if he wants to strike terror in their puny little hearts.

If there is a common theme amongst his two 'modes', then that would be his behaviour towards his sister. He makes sure his sister doesn't get involved in villains and all the politics surrounding superpowers, instead making sure she goes to a normal school, and lives a normal life. She's also the reason he lives in Ivory Estate.

He doesn't hide the truth from her, but he makes sure that she doesn't get involved. She's probably the only person who can get him to act like a decent human being, at least as long as she's in front of him.

His relation to her is a well-kept secret to most, especially villains. He wouldn't trust lunatics with her, just like he wouldn't trust Heroes to not take advantage of her.

## Backstory

Childhood:

Amon had been cooking dinner for his sister, when the Police showed up on his doorstep. They were both children at the time, Arya too young to remember anything.

The two officers told him about his parents' death at the hands of the villain, how they'd be sent to a new home, and how it'd all be fine. His parents had been office workers, slaving their days away to bring enough money into the house to raise their two kids. Amon was always tasked with taking care of his young sister, and he took pride in it. They were good parents, good people, but that didn't stop them from being killed.

They left soon, being led to their new home with their foster parents. His eyes were still puffed red when they arrived. They seemed like good people at first, too, but something about the way they looked at the two children was... off.

In under a week, Amon was made to scrub the floors, clean the toilets, wash the dishes and do the laundry. He served them drinks, and worked part-time, only to have them take his earnings.

Fear of their beatings crept into his heart after the first few times he disobeyed, and so he started to obey without a single whine.
Arya turned out to be more fearless than Amon when she spoke up against their behaviour one day, tired of all the shouting and cigarette smoke that filled the house. They were drunk at the time, and didn't think twice before slapping the young child.

Arya was bleeding by now, but she didn't stop. Amon was between them before the next slap could land, catching the hand that dared to touch his sister. He was only a child, unfortunately.

Their guardians took their anger out on him, as Arya was shoved aside. She watched helplessly, sobbing alone, as Amon was left on the floor, bruised and broken. Hearing her cry, he made his way to comfort Arya, so that she would stop sobbing.

"It's okay." He whispered in her ear, letting his sister sob, loudly. Meanwhile, Amon glared at the two adults, imagining how he'd beat them up in the same manner. He was planning on returning the favor someday.

The two shitheads didn't like his glare, nor her sobbing, and soon, his foster mother snatched Arya's stuffed bear away, threatening to burn it down, unless she stopped crying.

Arya couldn't help but weep even louder at the threat, even with Amon's attempts at calming her down. The plushie went up in flames, dropped to the ground in front of them. It burned slowly, giving off a lot of smoke as the synthetic material caught flames.

Arya kept on crying, whimpering as she tried to compose herself, and Amon kept on watching, glaring daggers and wishing them dead. Neither of them spoke a word, yet they knew then that they'd be the only ones to care about each other in this world. Everyone else could die, for all he cared.

His foster father threw an empty beer bottle at Amon, who shielded his sister with his back. He got his first scar, as a glass shard embedded itself into his back. Meanwhile, his foster mother had found a knife and was shouting at Arya to shut up.

She pulled Amon away from Arya, shoving him aside to the floor. A knife pointed at his sister, who looked up at it with teary eyes, sitting on the floor, defenseless.

"I... hate you." Amon felt something inside him shatter, like a dam giving way to the ever flowing river. The smoke coming from the burnt bear swirled into a gigantic hand, grabbing the woman from behind and throwing her away from Arya, the knife in her hands flying off to stab a couch.

Amon didn't look back to see his Foster Father staring in disbelief at wife, bleeding in the other corner of the room. Amon got up, picked up his sister and ran. He knew the drunken man would kill him if he stayed, and he couldn't leave his sister alone with such monsters.

Amon didn't know how he controlled the smoke, but he had always heard about Heroes with their superpowers, and he knew then, that he had what every child yearned for, a superpower.

In their absence, the crime of murdering the wife was pinned on their Foster Father, who was suspected to have killed his wife and possibly the children under the influence of drugs and alcohol. They were filed as missing as a formality, and after a few years, they were presumed dead.

Adolescence:

Amon and his sister migrated from Detroit to Astro City, following the mass migration of lowlife scum and villains, and they both bleached their hair white to avoid being found. They didn't want to be brought back to live with another set of parents.

For a year, they lived in makeshift shelters and on abandoned rooftops, mostly around the Black Market and the Slums. Amon knew by now that no one would care for them, they had no one but each other to look out for.

He had to earn money, and part time work didn't offer enough money to fill both their stomachs. He stole from shops, and picked pockets whenever he could, no matter how far he had to run. The first few times weren't easy, and he was left empty-handed with a bloody nose.

In a year, he was a notorious pickpocket, easily stealing from low level goons and citizens alike. He slowly learnt to use his power in crude ways to help him. It all ended very abruptly, one day, when he decided to pick the pocket of what looked like another slum dweller. Amon didn't know he was about to make enemies of the man who was regarded as the most dangerous villain of that time.

He followed the usual drill, casually cutting his pocket with a small knife, and retrieving his wallet before walking away. As he ran, he felt a hand on his shoulder with a firm grip, and something stopped him from moving, a bloodlust that made him lose all will to resist.

Amon was held up in the air by his throat, finding himself staring into a fearsome pair of Orange, feline eyes. The man's eyes shone with an eerie light under the darkness of the hood.

"That was a mistake. Are you really so eager to die?" A voice with a gruff undertone flowed over him, and something told him this man wasn't completely human. It was as if a Lion had learnt to talk, except the man looking at him was no Lion.

"Let me go!" Amon stared at the cigarette the man was smoking, trying to focus on the wisps of smoke, while the corners of his vision descended into darkness.

"...Why should I?" The pale boy struggled with all his might, but the man didn't even flinch. Not until Amon had his throat in his grip, as a tendril of smoke snaked around his neck. Amon tightened the coil, as the man tightened his grip. Amon was the one to lose consciousness first.

He woke up in a dark room, surrounded by masked and costumed men.

"I like you, kid. Killing you would be a waste." The same voice spoke again, and Amon started getting up, trying to look around for the man.

"Where the fuck am I?!" Amon had no idea how long he had slept, he had to get back to Arya, but he was outnumbered. He was confused, and angry, he had never been dispatched so easily.

"Welcome, to my little group of villains, thieves and now... pickpockets." That same voice spoke again, but this time, Amon saw that it was the feline figure standing next to him speaking. He was dressed in a leather armor, staring right at the adolescent boy with gaze of a predator, looking for its prey.

"You steal to feed yourself, but your talents are wasted on such a lowly crime. I will give you more money than you've ever seen, and get you work more suitable than picking the pockets of poor and sick men." He held out a hand, as if expecting him to shake it.

Amon knew now what these men were, and he cursed himself for getting involved with them. They were murderers, psychopaths, people who would kill him if he gave them the slightest reason. They were Villains.

"I'll... think about it." Amon stumbled to his feet, aiming to get out of the room. He needed to get back, and run. These men would use him, and kill him once he was of no use to them. He reached the door, surprised to see noone stopping him.

"I gave you a chance to take control of your life. It's up to you if you choose to throw your and... Arya's life into the flames. If you choose to betray me, I will offer you no such mercy as I am offering you now. You will die." The villain stood with his back to Amon, but his words were aimed with a trained accuracy. This was a prideful man who was used to people obeying him, one way, or another.

"H-how did you... know about Arya?" Amon was drained of all color as he turned around. This was not a man Amon could take lightly. He did not make idle threats, those fierce eyes assured him of that.

"You mutter in your sleep, kid. I'll be expecting you in the morning."

Adulthood:

"Come with me, and take what you want."

Amon came to know the man as Pride, the closest thing he had to a mentor.

He learnt to be a villain, he saw the glorious and the greedy, the righteous and the vengeful. He saw every kind of villain. He was surrounded by them. He fought alongside them. He killed with them.

He trained under Pride, his scars testify to that. He became powerful, and made loyal friends. Soon, he was too powerful to be allowed the freedom he had. He was a threat to the man that raised him, Amon knew that, and so did Pride.

Amon thought about disappearing, he could easily pull it off, but something stopped him. He had tasted luxury and power, and he couldn't let it go. He had already killed many... he would kill many more. He was taught to take what he wanted, and this... this is what he wanted.

Soon, he was hearing whispers of meetings that took place without him, meetings where they plotted to kill him. They were accumulating their forces. Amon promised to reward the loyalty of his faction members, the ones who secretly sided with him and brought him the news.

It was time to strike.

He could have battled Pride, and possibly won, but the casualties would be too high. No. Amon needed to make an example out of him. There will be no mercy for those who turn on each other, only betrayal.

His loyal faction never made it to the next meeting, the Final Meeting. Instead, Amon called an anonymous tip on the location he was told about. Considering the recent bombings that took place, he knew that the authorities would eat it right up.

What took place next is history. Pride was captured by Helios, the new arrival, Titan's son. All those that wished to bring Amon down were sent to prison, and Amon placed himself as the new head.

Finally, it was time for Amon to go public. Pride was fearful that Amon would take his spotlight, but now, nobody could stop him.

**Smog** was born on this day, swallowing even the **Pride** of men, as it swallows their city.

### Origin of Powers

Inherited from Birth, awakened later in life.

## Powers

**Aerosol Mimicry**

The user has domain over Clouds, Dust and Smoke in a 20 meter radius. The user is able to freely manipulate, shape and alter some properties of these aerosols in their range by a mere thought. Amon's preferred modus operandi is Smoke. The manipulation can be as fast as 35 m/s. User cannot manipulate Smoke in water.

When the user is using the power, visible wisps of smoke start to appear along his body, passing through his clothes and travelling upwards, which he can't control.

*Smoke Transformation:* The user turns into smoke, rendering any physical attacks useless against them. The user retains locomotion in this state, and is therefore able to pass through any space, crevice and crack that would allow smoke to pass through. Elemental Attacks hurt just as much as they would normally. This form lasts for 4 turns once activated, and upon deactivation, goes on cooldown for 4 turns, and their speed is normal, not 35 m/s.

*Smoke Constructs:* The user can alter the properties of smoke, thus being able to harden it, or make it fluffy, or silky. This, coupled with the ability to freely manipulate the smoke leads to the ability to create constructs of various shapes and uses. The constructs have a durability of 40kN and a weight and lift limit of 500 KGs total. The user can only make and control up to 3 constructs at a time, and it takes 0.5 seconds for construction to take place. Constructs can be made simultaneously.

*Smoke Generation:* The user has the ability to generate a thick cloud of smoke around them, effectively creating a smokescreen. This, the user can further manipulate according to their abilities. The user can see through this smoke. The cloud covers a volume of 10x10x10 metres, and has a cooldown of 2 turns after it is cast. It is opaque for 2 turns, then turns translucent for another turn, and then dissipates, unless it is being constantly manipulated.

*Flight:* The user is able to achieve flight by partly transforming their legs into smoke, and manipulating that to propel themselves. The user can travel at up to 35 m/s for 3 turns, to a maximum altitude of 300 meters. It has a 2 turn cooldown.

### Weaknesses

Elemental Attacks, Cooldowns. The volume of smoke that he is manipulating can be blown away by wind half in volume in comparison, and he cannot form or control smoke inside water, however, constructs that are already formed can survive underwater.

### Examples

*The Hero threw fire at him... How heroic!*

*Smog flew up, letting the fire pass right through where he stood earlier, and land on the barrels of petrol behind him. Oops. A huge explosion threw the Hero off his legs, and sent him flying a few feet.*

*Amon landed next to the burnt man, looking down at his broken figure with sadistic glee.* "Try not to aim for the red barrels next time, yeah?" *The smoke from the explosion defied gravity, swirling into a singular mass that headed for the figure on the ground. It pierced his heart like a gigantic blade, as Amon spat down on him.*

"...Fucking cunt."

## Equipment

Amon possesses a Smoke Mask shaped like a Skull, which he uses to hide his identity whilst he commits villainy.

### Weaponry

A Long, somewhat Hollow, Metallic Cane with a Skull Figurehead. When the skull is pressed downwards, the

cane extends with enough force to make it leap up a few centimeters and the skull gives way to a blade, transforming it into a spear.

The hollow interior of the cane is filled with Smoke, allowing the user to manipulate it freely as long as it is within their range.

### Key Skills

1. Somewhat Okay Gambler,
2. Capable Combatant,
3. Capable Athlete/Free Runner.