ROUGHNECK [Character Bio/Stats]

Real name: Frank Grism
Occupation: Adventurer
Identity: Secret
Legal status: United States citizen with no criminal record
Place of Birth: Albuquerque, NM
Marital Status: Single
Known Relatives: None
Group affiliation: Supers of Fortune
Base of operations: New York City
First appearance: Supers of Fortune #1
Height: 5' 10" Weight: 230 lbs.(built like he weighs about 180, but cybernetics add weight)
Eyes: Yellow (synthetic) Hair: none (formerly brown)

History: Frank Grism stood in the dingy hotel room looking at himself in the mirror through his artificial yellow eyes. He needed a shave, and his head was covered in short stubble the same length as that on his chin. The stubble barely covered the recent scars that ran along several suture lines of his skull. Scars from the operation.

He felt the still unfamiliar lump in the base of his skull, where the processor housing was. More scar tissue ran from that spot down the left side of his spine, branching off at several places to run along his

limbs. He examined every inch of scar tissue he could find, and there was quite a bit. The operation had only been a few weeks ago, but the scars were barely visible now. The technology they had used on him must have been advanced. Frank did not know anything about computers or medicine or cybernetics. But he knew what they had done to him.

He picked up the sofa with one hand, feeling more than hearing the servos in his joints respond to the added weight. The couch was a pull out bed, probably a couple hundred pounds, but it felt like only a few pounds to him. He knew they had augmented his strength, and his speed. He had used those abilities in his escape. He had also used his built in weaponry. The laser between his first and second knuckle on his right hand was not visible now, the flesh having regrown over the laser's muzzle. He must have some kind of accelerated healing for it to have healed already, he had only used it yesterday. He shuddered at that memory, their first attempt to recapture him. He had killed three of their hunters in a dark alley not three miles from his present hotel room. He was on the run. He didn't even know who they were.

Frank had worked on a Petro-Corp oil rig off the coast of Alaska until they had captured him. That was over three years ago, he recently learned. It seemed like only yesterday. And not because so much time had passed without him seeing the outside world. It really did only seem like yesterday. He did not remember any of his confinement until he had been brought online by his captors. His first memory after being abducted was of standing in a strange coffin sized pod with electronics all around, men in red lab coats prodding him and inserting things into his very skull. There were others in that lab too, he could see them over the scientists, others in pods like Frank. Other cyborgs.

Frank didn't know why he was able to escape. The scientists seemed very surprised that he was awake and could move. Someone must have accidentally (or intentionally? wonders Frank) activated him before it was time. Before they could completely program him. He could feel the tug of the program on his mind, whispering to him things he could not hear or understand. He had a vague feeling that he needed to return to the lab. That was the last thing he would do.

Frank was free now, and in New York. He needed a place to stay. He needed money, he was famished. His clothing was torn and bloody from his fight with the hunters. He thought about stealing more. He could certainly take whatever he wanted, no one could stop him. He had been shot in the recent fight, but the pain had been instantaneous only, his processor automatically commanding his brain to block out the pain signals and send pain relieving endorphins. And as he now inspected the bullet wound beneath his makeshift bandage, he noticed that it was now only an ugly scar, no longer a wound at all. His healing was miraculous. He wondered if it could be caused by the processor somehow. He couldn't think of any other way.

Now on the other side of town, Frank notices an ad for super heroes. Sanctioned. It was a crazy idea, Frank should go into hiding. But then, the best place to hide was in the least obvious place, and that could be out in the open. Frank tore the ad down and stalked off to the address listed.

Powers and abilities: Roughneck possesses several superhuman capacities due to the synthetic and cybernetic enhancement of his body. His steel augmented skeleton and artificial musculature allow him to lift (press) about 10 tons under optimal conditions.

Electronic/mechanically augmented musculature allows reactions times 20 times faster than average human reactions. Computer augmentation of thought processes is integrated to the point that volition is often the result of computer heuristic algorithms rather than conscious free will thinking.

Conventional healing factor is expedited by computerized stimulation of natural healing chemicals as well as stem cell generation

Synthetic eyes that allow detection of all energies within the EM spectrum as well as magnification and enhancement of regular sight.

150 watt/second helium-neon sub-dermal laser with adjustable intensity implanted in right hand.

Weapons and equipment: In addition to his cybernetics Roughneck also has a utility belt in which to stow gear as needed.

Personality:

Description: Roughneck wears an all black body suit with steel toe boots and leather gloves. His black mask covers his entire head and face.

Frank is 5'10", used to look like a truck driver with a beer gut but now has no more gut. Barrel chested, massive forearms and hands, spindly legs--kind of like Joe Cocker.

He is bald with scars all over his scalp along the suture lines of his skull. He ain't pretty. He wears all black outfit with a "utility" belt, though he has no utilities in it yet. Gloves only go up to his wrist (like real work gloves, which they are), black boots (ankle high, not knee high, lug sole--work boots).