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[AU: Age of Heroes] Mutt [Ready]


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Superhero Name: Mutt

Appearance: A diamond dog of grey hues with hints of purple, mid sized and surprisingly well kempt for a member of the species, though still not exactly what one would consider well groomed. Perpetually seen wearing an unreasonably thick leather collar with a diamond shaped diamond that is inexplicably whirl cut in the front slot and five similarly shaped empty slots on the perimeter of the collar. Additionally, the collar bears an inexpertly forged oval tag (clearly mismatched and greatly at odds with the fine but simple collar on which it sits) with the letters MUTT crudely inscribed to it.

Mutt with his complete collar. (By Pressie!)


The Diamond Collar: A relic from the Era of Bowie, this mystical artifact shields its wearer from curses and oppressive magic and grants its wearer great power. Power enough to topple a king. Power enough to liberate a people from tyranny.. or at least it would, when whole. It does not come off.

Enhanced Senses: Mutt has all the senses that come with being a diamond dog, which include a wide and sensitive range of hearing, a powerful sense of smell suitable for tracking, and excellent vision in low light environments, and some vision in dark environments.

Malleability: The diamond of his collar grants Mutt the power to stretch and deform his body as he pleases, stretching up to several times his current length, though he is limited by the amount of mass his body contains and cannot stretch indefinitely without injury.

Enhanced Durability: Mutt's stretching powers render him almost entirely impervious to blunt impacts. It would require and extreme amount of force in a blow or an extreme amount of weight pressing upon him to cause him harm. In addition, he is resilient to electric currents (though not immune) and can ingest some objects that would be otherwise harmful for a normal diamond dog. Or other lifeforms for that matter. The elastic nature of his body allows his lungs to be extraordinarily efficient. He can hold his breath for a very, very long time.

Enhanced Strength: Mutt has the strength expected of a diamond dog and more due the resilient nature of his body. When unrestrained, mutt is capable of summoning several times the strength and force a diamond dog of his size would be expected to muster, though this usually requires room for a wind up or creation of adequate leverage through manipulation of his form.

Known Weaknesses: As a trade off for his fantastic powers, Mutt is weak to bitter cold, and, to a lesser extent, high heats and adhesives. And, sadly, inherent weaknesses of not having a set shape. Anyone capable of summoning more force than him is also capable of rendering him less than effective. Mutt must therefore be very careful around those with super speed and especially super strength, and those with giant size. As a diamond dog, his brain is not particularly well suited for extreme thinking. While he maintains roughly the same intelligence he had before his change, the prevalence of instinct as a controlling factor in his behavior has left him with a reduced degree of self control and created a weakness against mental attacks.

Alias: Once known as Rolling Tempest, now known as Mutt. He is in no position to hide his identity as his very identifying accessory will NOT come off.

Backstory: Born a pegasus, and to a wealthy family of ponies in Canterlot who's power manifest ever third generation, his generation. Rolling Tempest wanted for nothing, save freedom. A blatantly spoiled child, Tempest coasted by in his studies and learned and progressed only at the bare minimum pace accept by his parents, which, much to his chagrin, included Cotillion and years of exceedingly rigorous advanced flight training in the hopes of getting him accepted into a flight defense corps on merit. The boy's only friends assigned for him through politics, many of them getting powers of their own.. but his never came. A disappointment to his family and an inexplicable breach of accepted truth, his parents began to push him to excel in all other categories. His schooling, his flight, music and dance.

Feeling the pressure and greatly distraught that his birthright was denied him, the colt began to rebel. The boy took to sneaking out at night and flying on his own terms, seeking thrills and freedom he could never have hoped to have under the crushing weight of responsibility his family had thrust upon him. As years passed, his rebellion only grew and he would disappear for days, weeks at a time, resenting his lot in life and the fact that those with powers had to exist at all, if they didn't, he would never be pushed so hard. In his teen years, his rebellion came to a head, he adopted a new hobby of barnstorming and other stunt flying.  This began to take up more and more of his time, and his parents disapproved. Everything came to a head when his parents attempted to put their hooves down, resulting in a violent argument with them, at which point he fled from his home, and Canterlot in haste and anger.

For several days, the young man enjoyed his unbridled freedom, no more shackles, no more responsibilities... but soon he began to miss the comforts of home. The things wealth and a lineage can get a pony... and so he resolved to go home, after one last run. The pony had discovered a cave and tunnel system in a series of hills far north of home, and in what can only be described as an action devoid of common sense, he took to the skies and dove inside. This went about as well as can be expected. Surprisingly, for the first few hundred meters he expertly wove his way through the geology, lit by shafts of light beaming through the surface, but as he got deeper in, he got deeper down, and it was only a matter of time before he made an error. And so he did, he misjudged a turn and hit a wall wing first, and fell down. Down a slope too deep to climb, deep deep into the ground, and tumbling end over and into a colony of diamond dogs. Not the nice kind. The kind parents tell naughty children stories about to keep them in line, the foul, terrible kind that imprison ponies to do labor. The kind that live by strength alone and organize their hierarchy not by merit or vote but by aggression.

With a sprained wing and no way to get back to the surface, the pegasus had no choice but to be subjected to a new yoke while he healed. A literal one... it was only a few days before his wing was healed enough to get him some lift, and those few days were quite enough. The first chance he had, he took. Slipping free of bonds not built for a pony of his size, he fled, and the dogs gave chase. They are fast, but with flight, he is faster... he is also lost. With no way of knowing how to get back to the surface, he flies blindly up and down through tunnels, only to find his wing is not as healed as he thought, and soon he's forced to land and run, no longer able to flap. Exhausted, he finds himself at the edge of a pit, dogs trailing in the distance. No idea of what's ahead in the darkness, but knowing well what waits behind, Tempest makes a leap of faith, gliding into the dark... Pitch plack, an empty hole, pure terror. But suddenly a light, a guiding light, and so he swooped toward it, wing aching, the sound of howls and barking fading behind. And then, he landed, ankle deep in a pool of water, the source of light apparent.

There, in the darkness, in a small alcove, lay wrapped around what for all the world seems to be an especially ancient natural pillar, a collar, beholden of but a single gem, a diamond, glowing in the darkness. The only source of light. Inscribed on the pillar in effectively chickenscratch were the words. 'No the wate of oppreshun and be wurthy. Let this powur take you to freedum.' After spending several seconds registering the horribly spelled message, and seeing no other way out. He took the collar, and put it on as though compelled. Immediately, a searing light filled his form, the great energies of an ancient and powerful artifact filling him to the brim with its mystical energy, wracking the small alcove with unbridled might and vaporizing the pool in which he stood. The floor crumbled. Down into complete darkness. Down into rushing water, thrashing wildly struggling to breathe. Unable to keep on the surface, completely disoriented. It seemed ages he was stuck in that river, ages he thought he wouldn't survive, but eventually it slowed... and leveled... and then sped up once more. And then, a drop, down deeper, into a deep pool... and finally, with a last burst of effort, onto the shore..

Dripping wet, caked in sand and mud... he stumbled in darkness down into the tunnels, following a new channel back along its current upward, barely able to walk, unable to see. And then, suddenly, a light, blinding at first, but only torchlight. Then, teeth! another dog. "Halt!" the dog demanded. 'Oh no' the pegasus thought... all that effort, only to be caught yet again. How deep did the settlement go? "What is your name, boy?!" demanded the dog, to which tempest could only stare. "To which pack do you belong?" to which Tempest could only uhhhm, and reply.. "None? What?" and so the dog took him, and drug him through tunnels, stumbling, and thrusting him out into the light. Only for Tempest to see not hooves, but paws in front of him. After a testing of the sight he saw, shock overtook him, and he lay dumbly as the dog spoke. "This is your pack now. You are on the bottom. You are a Mutt, and since you do not have one, your name will be Mutt!" and so it was that his collar was given a tag, and for two weeks he, now a diamond dog, was insinuated into their culture... Learning that territory was often competed in by several packs, each attempting to find a better claim, with different rules and different methods. He was worked, hard. But no harder than any other dog.

Still he needed freedom, and much of his time he spent studying their maps... his ability to even marginally read them garnered him favor with the higher ups, but he did not care. He was just searching for a way out of this madness he'd gotten himself into, and one day, when he had memorized a route, he was allowed to go to the surface... A chance at which he jumped, and there he fled. Blinded by the light of day, he ran, ceaselessly, unendingly, for hours until his lungs were fit to bursting and his body felt as though it were a furnace unto itself. And then he dropped, hungry, tired, he slept.

The boy awoke to the smell of ponies, and food... And so, starving, body growling, up and over a ridge he followed the incoming wind, coming into sight of a large city, a city of tall, clustered buildings and dark streets. A city of far too many people. A city of noise and activity so frenetic it seemed as though it couldn't help but keep going through the night. Like a city that never sleeps. And down a hill, across a plain and a river, and into the city he went, trundling as if he owned the place, and soon, he realized, this was a very poor choice. His high speed, filthy form, and growling body gave him an appearance that is, shall we say, uncharitable. As did the fact the he almost immediately found himself eating an entire watermelon that he had no way to pay for. So it was the he fled into the alleys, the backstreets... but it was not long before he was apprehended and arrested, finding himself flung into the jail for a night of shame and regret.

When morning came, he was released from his cell and thrust before an official. "You got any papers, boy?" he was asked, and he could feel through the tone that boy was not referring to his age. "Papers?" he replied, confused. "I'll take that as a no..." replied the official, and the dog was made to sit, and listen. "I don't know what it's like where your kind come from, but down here we have rules. We don't take what ain't given and we treat everyone with due respect. You wanna live here, you gotta abide by those rules, and don't think we don't got plenty of muscle to make sure you do." Tempest nodded weakly, ears flat, tail tucked. A diamond dog had never submitted to authority so easily, and the official took pity on him. "What's your name boy?" The pony checked his tag. "Mutt, huh? Not flattering, but okay. I ain't gonna question your names. But so long as you behave yourself, you can stay. We always got a place for GOOD people here. But know this boy. We don't take kindly to shenanigans from your kind around here. You're on a short leash." and so it was that Mutt was formally registered as a Citizen of Equestria... provisionally. And released onto the streets with no idea where he was, who he was, or what he was going to do.

He couldn't go home, not like this, and he didn't even know where home WAS from here... So, he made his home in the alleys, finding a place to sleep, and reflect, and to finally have a proper existential crisis about how he'd gone from a rich kid buried in pressures but with extravagant comforts and the world his oyster... to this hulking thing that some might consider a second class citizen with no home to call his own. For days he wallowed, bemoaning, eating what was discarded as none would hire him. For weeks he collected debris to shore up the small corner of discarded packaging he called his home. Then on just another dreary day that soon turned to heavy rain, there was a cry from a few alleys down. At first he tried to ignore it, he needed no trouble... but he couldn't keep quiet. Out into the rain he burst, rounding corners, ears twitching, taking in conversation, until, eyes gleaming, he rounded a corner and bounded off a wall up into the air, grabbing a mugger bodily in each paw and hefting them into walls. A spinning dervish of instinct, the third mugger was soon smacked into the ground. He thought he had helped, the villains incapacitated, but the pony only bolted in fear from the display.

Dumbstruck, Mutt, as he had accepted being called, retreated to his corner as the police and a 'hero' arrived down the way to subdue the criminals... He listened, and he frowned. At first, he was resentful. He was just trying to help, and she looked at him like that! But the more he stewed on it, the more he couldn't blame here. If something like him had come charging through a blinding rain toward him and attacked three people in short order, he'd have been frightened too. And then he had a thought. A simple, but life changing thought. Even if he didn't look like a hero then, that was the first truly useful thing he had ever done with his life. The first measurable thing he had ever done for society. For others, and of his own accord. That was his own choice. He wanted to do that. He helped someone because he wanted to. Is that what it's like, to be a hero? He laid back, and closed his eyes, listening to the rain pattering against his sagging roof, feeling it drip upon his toes. If being a hero felt right... he could be a hero too, couldn't he? Someday.

Allies: None

Villains: None

Notability: A criminal record of one count of petty theft. One unregistered assault. No heroic notability.

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