• Date joined:2009-06-03
  • Alignment:Evil
  • Points:0 Points

Faction: Villain

Super Name: Honor Avenger

Real Name: Jessica Liafador

Base Of Operations: currently changing

Age: 24

Gender: Female

Height: 5'7"

Weight: 143 lbs

Physique: Athletic

Eye Colour: Blue

Hair Colour: Black

Identity: Public

Date Of Birth: Unknown

Place Of Birth: Unknown

Origin Of Powers: Unknown, every test shows her as a normal human

Known Aliases: Jazz, Darwinist Dictator, Gothic City Horror, Apex Predator, Quantum Queen, Martial Arts Mistress, Lioness Of The Concrete Jungle, Propagator Of The Eternal Law, The Lethal Lost Liafador

Group Affiliation: Cardinals

Battle Cry: "Survival of the fittest!"

Grid Points:

Agility: 3

Durability: 2

Energy Projection: 2

Fighting Ability: 6

Intelligence: 4

Mental Power: 3

Speed: 2.5

Stamina: 3

Strength: 3

CVnU Bio:

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Gothic City ranks among the most dreadful cities in existence. Dirt, decay and depravity fill its many streets and allies, crime and poverty reign supreme. As glorious as its cathedral and high rise skyscrapers may mix into a blend of the venerable and modern so disheartening is the filth and soot that clad the less prestigious parts of the metropolis in a terrible mourning dress of sad black. For days the sun cannot be seen through the layers and layers of smog that the man-devouring factories exhale through their never-sleeping maws of concrete in the form of vents. Desperate and completely dehumanized criminals, thieves, muggers, rapists, killers and worse, stalk the urban preying-ground on the hunt for the last honorable citizens ready to do anything for a short fix of good life. But still this is not where the true horrors lie…

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Deep inside Bedlam Asylum, this tower of terror haunted by the screams of the insane, there is a cell, located deeply and safely underground in the maximum security area. There, nestled between the cells of other high-tier meta-human inmates, specifically between the heat prison of Dire Frost and the vacuum-sealed compartment of Fatale Rose, a woman bides her time in a tiny 10 by 10 feet room. There is nothing else in her room but a foam core mattress, a simple steel toilet and a sink of the same material. She is not allowed to have a TV or even a radio, technology is too dangerous. One year ago she sued on her right to read books and newspapers in a spectacular trial but even those she must not keep. Instead she has to ask for them and return them once she is done with reading. So she spends her time with reading and training her body, doing countless sit ups, push ups, squats and endlessly running on the same spot. Her forks, spoon, knifes and plates are made of plastic, her guards go as far as to make sure there is not a single bone in her meals. She is classified as an AAA-level threat, on par only with the forcedly constantly awake Nightmare and the comatose Atomic Sun. Her name is Jessica, she does not have any family name because this would be just another weapon but to the public she is known under a different moniker that sends chills through every inhabitant of Gothic City:

Honor Avenger

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No one knows who she is, no one knows where she came from, just that she appeared in the worst quarter of the old city one day. At first she was nothing more than another gangster with two guns for a trademark but that would not last long. Simple robberies soon turned into the first murders and as the initial successes paired with her natural cunning she began to amass followers. Like the tentacles of an octopus her influence slithered through the shady side alleys and started to dig deep into the criminal underworld. Even with all her natural skill that could not go unnoticed for long.


Two minor vigilantes, Deadeye and Carnivore, got wind of the up-and-coming crime boss and decided to make a name for themselves by taking her out. It was their last mistake. Of course they had a few successes in the beginning but as soon as they became a nuisance the boss herself decided to take care of them.

Not much later Carnivore was found brutally beaten and crucified, hanging from hooks on the statue of the city founder embedded deep into his flayed flesh after he had been tortured for two days. He died with one last, deep, agonized breath as the paramedics took him down. Still he was the lucky one.

Deadeye should have taken his partner’s demise as a warning. Instead he doubled his efforts to destroy Jessica’s fledgling empire. Obviously more drastic measures would have to be taken to discourage Gothic City’s masked crime fighters. And Deadeye was to become her beacon of terror.

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One day Matthew Harkins came home from another day on the job in a convenience store. He was tired, annoyed by nosy customers and an ever angry boss. At this point he wanted nothing more than to spend the evening with his lovely wife and his two kids, one of them being only six months old. That would never happen. He found the door to his house only ajar, skepticism and a slight feeling of panic constricted his chest as he slowly pushed the door open, its swinging accompanied by a slight creak. The light of the streetlights from outside cast his shadow through the doorframe into the dimly lit square in the hallway of the otherwise dark house. Cautiously he set one foot into the building that had been so familiar to him before. The next moment his scream echoed through the night air as his knee exploded from a high caliber handgun bullet. Not understanding he fell to the ground, the shock was too far away to let him slip away yet. Then he noticed the gun toting stranger in front of him who slipped out of the shadows. Deadeye. With a voice like darkness he spoke: “Now, Dreadmaw, you know how it is if your family is slaughtered, if the only persons who were of any matter to you were taken from you and you could not do anything against it.” And then it dawned to Matthew. Dreadmaw was a terrible, sadistic, cannibalistic killer who terrorized the suburbs and had the habit of devouring whole families although he always let one live to tell the tale. But… “I AM NOT DREADMAW!!!” he shouted in fear for his life. “I was at work whenever these murders happened, check it! Hell, look around: Does this look like the home of a cannibal?” The shadowy attacker looked puzzled at him for a moment. “This… this cannot be… I… I was so sure… I… I…” And then he was gone.

The security cam tapes went to the press, TV, online and every other medium possible only a few hours later. A painfully clear protocol of how the ambivalent vigilante Deadeye had broken into an honest man’s home and killed his family with headshots. A hunt for the merciless marksman ensued. Few voices of support, mainly from the vigilante community itself, raised to defend him but were silenced when it became clear that the bullets at the crime scene were identical to those that Deadeye used and Matthew Harkins identified the voice of his attacker from records. A whole city was out for blood.

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And they got it when an anonymous source made Deadeye’s private identity public: He was Dwayne Jacobs, a former special forces soldier who had been dishonorably discharged because of insubordination and became a dock worker. Dwayne quickly disappeared into the underground but not before his last living relatives, his parents and a sister, were killed and put on open display by an unknown offender. Heroes and villains alike sought to get rid of the excellently trained man. On his run he killed two cops and another vigilante named Raptor. In the end they got him on top of the cathedral of St. Achatius, patron of soldiers, where he prayed for forgiveness. Once the helicopters showed up he jumped with a last prayer on his lips.

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He survived. Barely. Nowadays he is a paraplegic in Bedlam Asylum talking endlessly to himself and asking everybody for forgiveness. None would give him any. Even more so since he denies having killed anyone but those two cops and Raptor to the present day.

Jessica’s way to the top was free now. None of the minor vigilantes was still willing to cross her and the more famous ones like Dark Vengeance were too busy to care about a simple crime lord. So it became silent about the uprising queen of crime who spent the time with building her influence.

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Gothic City would forever remember the day when she struck.

Out of a sudden the city went dark at midnight. Illuminations, neon signs, traffic lights, even computer screens died in a single shrinking white point at once. The consequences were dire, dozens of deaths from car accidents in the first minute. In no time chaos and anarchy reigned supreme. And they proved to be no kind rulers. Gangs of ruthless thugs went to work with never known precision robbing banks, diamond stores and people on open street. Drive bys on policemen painted the streets red. Screams of the wounded or dying formed a horrid cacophony in the darkness. Honest citizens cried out to god to return the light and end this hell. God did not listen. Instead someone else returned the light.

A blinding flash illuminated the fateful night that would be called “Avenger’s Night” later on as large fireballs rose up in the nocturnal sky and blackened out the stars themselves. Fuel for these gigantic pyres were the 212 police precincts of Gothic City ending the lives of nearly 10.000 men and women wearing the dark blue in tragic infernos. To the present day it is still unthinkable to many that this all happened in the first ten minutes. The first ten minutes before the large screens on public spaces awakened to new life to display the stern face of an attractive woman with cold blue eyes.

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Her hair blew in a strong breeze, her mouth wore a serious expression and out of her sapphire eyes spoke only contempt. Instinctively the whole city held its collective breath as she began to speak, even the guns kept quiet in this moment.

“Inhabitants of Gothic City… There is a principle in nature, a principle stronger than any other. It works for all species al over the world and makes them thrive, become stronger and better. It causes a species to develop, to get the best evolution has to offer. It vanquishes the weak, seeds them out to make the world a better place. By now it should be clear to all but the most dimwitted of you which eternal law I am talking about: The survival of the fittest.

Now look at you. Fat. Far too content with what you have achieved. You let the sick and weak among you live, sometimes at your very side. You allow yourselves to be ruled by imbeciles. And the present day showed that you lay your protection into the hands of a bunch of soft failures. Even worse you put the responsibility far away from you.

This is now over. By my own authority, by the mandate of the strongest, I return this work of human hands to the original law. Do whatever you want. You are free now. As long as you are strong enough to do it, you can do it. No law, no morals, no restrictions but the ones you set yourself. Take what you wish. Every killing, every death serves evolution. Humans have escaped this selection far too long with their medicine and laws. It is time to enforce progress on humanity.

And for those idiots of you who think that you will be magically saved from the wolves at your doors, that so-called ‘peace and order’ will return to this place to save your lousy hides, that this is only temporally and this true condition will be reverted back to its previous state…

For you I have this…”

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As she spoke the camera widened its focus to show a full-length perspective. Every onlooker instantly recognized the surroundings, one of the most prominent places in town. The Feng Shui Garden atop of Chenwick Towers, the highest Skyscraper of Gothic City. And even as well known was the whimpering person keeping her company. The man named Thaddeus Black who had served as the Police Commissioner for the last 20 years. He had been obviously physically abused and intimidated. He drooled and begged for his life with barely understandably mumblings pressing the words forth between swollen lips. To no avail. With a sadistic smirk she threw him off the building. The zoom accompanied him on his whole horrible, screaming way down before he ended as an unrecognizable gory pulp on the sidewalk. Only to return to the woman.

“Let this be a signal: The old regime is dead, now you are the creator of your own fate. Nothing is predestined, only dependent on your abilities. This city may have lost its honor but I am the one who will avenge this. For this reason you can address me with a new name from now on:

Honor Avenger.

I wish you a good night, citizens of Gothic City. Sleep well knowing the world is all natural again. I made sure no one disturbs us.”

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The screens died again. Gothic City was handed to the reign of the strongest. Honor Avenger had used her unique gift to hack into the heart of the metropolis and take over the power, traffic and more, basically everything that was essential to urban life. Although she did not have enough minions to take complete control a deal with the two other big gang leaders, the Enigma and the Kidder, had sufficed to lay a siege of utter terror. And as a thunder from all the bridges and tunnels leading to the city being destroyed raged through the streets it was clear to all: There would be no help for a long, long time.

Powers And Abilities:

Quantum Subconscious:

It is still unclear where this seemingly unique power stems from. All tests, from X-gene examinations to cosmic radiation inspections, have shown Jessica to be a normal human. Scientists cannot explain the origin of this ability or even the way it works. The most probable theories claim that she is somehow able to perceive the Quantum-field this way. Fact is that she is instinctively and subconsciously able to know the full physical potential of anything she touches. She does not need skin contact but direct contact is needed for this to work.

If she touches an inanimate object the information goes even deeper. She instantly becomes subconsciously aware of the material strength, everything she can do or accomplish with the object and even the consequences of her intended actions (that is in how many parts something will break if she destroys it and what she can do with those parts, what she can construct from certain objects, what course a bullet will take after being fired from a gun, how many times she has to fold a paper till it can pierce flesh, and so on)

If she touches a living being she gets to know the exact limit of his physical capabilities but not his thoughts or secret identity. She could for example say if it was able to lift something or even if it would be smart enough to solve a certain riddle but could not read its thoughts. She even gets to know its weaknesses like porous bones or phobias.

This power also allowed her to find the perfect training to train her own body to the physical optimum for a human.

A more abstract application to this power is her ability to understand certain concepts. So far she has only shown to understand the principles of martial arts she has directly been attacked with but time will show if she can also understand other things like complex math or theoretical engineering.

Eidetic Memory:

Jessica is one of the few cases of true eidetic memory that have been classified so far. She can at any point perfectly and flawlessly recall any information that she has previously perceived in her life, no matter if visual, auditive, text-, taste- or tactile-based.

True Psychopathy:

As common as psychopaths seem to be in the modern world, true psychopaths are thankfully a rare phenomenon. Most psychopaths achieve a score of 30/42 on the Hare checklist with terrifyingly compassionless individuals reaching a 37 to a mximum of 40. Jessica is one of three individuals worldwide since the 70s to achieve a disturbing 42/42 on the scale. Compassion or caring are totally alien concepts to her, she is a highly intelligent, manipulative and unscrupulous egoist with perfect logic who is never hindered by emotions.