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Henry "Setekh" Regan PDF Print E-mail
Written by Shane Ivey   
Tuesday, 13 February 2007

One of the most infamous Talents of the 1960s went by the name Setekh. Nobody knew who he was, really, but he styled himself the incarnation of the ancient Egyptian deity Set, god of desert storms and chaos. Setekh was clearly insane, and not in an entertaining, comic-book supervillain way. He would shift from literally raining destruction over some offending city to spending weeks in staring isolation. 

Of course, in some traditions Set was god of fertility. In 1967, Setekh deemed he needed an heir, or even better a whole line of them. His ensuing depredations were among his most unsavory, and the fact that he particularly favored superhuman consorts, willing or not, led to his downfall. Any number of Talents soon were out for blood, and Setekh was physically obliterated in a battle with half a dozen of the most dangerous. Nobody mourned.

Henry Regan, born in early 1968, was found abandoned shortly after birth in downtown San Diego. He was quickly adopted; whatever name his birth mother gave him, if any, nobody knows. He grew up altogether ordinary in the suburbs. He always loved planes, and surprised nobody when he became a helicopter pilot after high school. Marriage followed; two kids of his own born in 1993 and 1997. He was on his way to being the most normal family man on the block.

On his 30th birthday, everything fell apart.

The day started fine. He drove to the airfield, headed for the hangar, and then the clearest blue sky turned mauve and some impossible sheet of energy sent him flying across the tarmac.

As Regan blinked, nearly deafened and slowly realizing he sported several broken bones, an old man in a shabby suit stood over him, hating.

"She killed herself, you know. Couldn't take the memory of it. Of you. Of the thing growing inside her. The Amazing Kite, Cleveland's savior, cut her own wrists on our third anniversary. And here you are again."

Regan didn't know what the hell the old man was talking about. He said so. The old man spat on him. Then the old man killed him.

But it didn't take.

Bloody and broken, Henry Regan stood up in a dazed fugue. Punched the old man in the face, shattering his jaw. Called down a hurricane wind to knock the old man off-balance, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The old man launched yet another death-glow but it went astray, and Henry snapped the rest of the way. He tackled the old man and hit him again and again, breaking bones with every blow. Eventually the old man died.

Regan ran for it. Freak lightning and sandstorms drove the police off his trail. His mind was utterly warped. Sometimes he dreamed of old Egyptian gods with heads like wolves and jackals. Sometimes he dreamed of his father -- his real father, insane as they come, dead before Regan was ever born.

After a year, he woke up. The storms subsided. The police caught him.

Self-defense didn't wash -- nobody else saw any deadly purple light -- and Regan spent eight years in a Talent-security prison for manslaughter. As with many Talents, parole was not an option. He served every day the judge handed down.

He went in confused and terrified, hating himself. He came out, somehow, better. It was ugly and it was violent, but in prison he learned about his father, and he was able to surmise pretty accurately about his mother. He learned about the dead old man and his long-dead wife, Ace "Negator" Wilson and Gillian "The Kite" Wilson, Talents themselves who had done some good things back in the day. He learned how to cope with his abilities. He learned not to be so afraid that he really was his father's son.

Henry Regan could be a poster child for prison reform, a case study of what happens when the system goes right, if he wasn't so utterly miserable. The strain of it destroyed his marriage; his wife is now happy with a producer in Burbank and his kids have two half-siblings. Regan is out of work -- certainly no chance of a pilot's license any time soon -- and he just knows there are more bitter survivors of his father's insane rampage still out there, not to mention friends of the old man.

It's time to start over.
 
Henry "Setekh" Regan
Archetype: Mutant (5 pts)
Source: Genetic;
Permission: "Weather god" power theme.

Miracles:
Control Weather 9d (45 pts) ADRU.
Detect Weather Control 10d (10 pts)
ADRU; Rare element, -4/8/16.
Second Chance 1 (6 pts) RU.

Stats (110 pts):
Body 6
Coordination 6
Sense 3
Brains 2
Cool 3
Command 2

Base Will 5
Willpower 5

Skills (74 pts):
Brawl 4 (10d)
Drive: Car 1 (7d)
Endurance 3 (9d)
First Aid 3 (5d)
Health 3 (9d)
Language: Spanish 2 (4d)
Navigate 3 (5d)
Pilot: Helicopter 3 (9d)
Pilot: Light Aircraft 1 (7d)
Resistance 2 (5d)
Run 2 (8d)
Sense Motive 3 (5d)
Sight 1 (4d)
Streetwise 3 (5d)
Throw 2 (8d)
Survival: Desert 2 (4d)


Comments:

My 9d roll came up 10, 9, 2x8, 6, 5, 4, 3. That's one power or power package and a whole lot of background.

Powers (determined by the 2x8): Control [Element] and/or Detect [Element].
Careers (chosen from the unmatched dice): Everyman; pilot.
Events (chosen from the unmatched dice): Adopted; responsible for a death; unjustly imprisoned; feral; child of a notorious supervillain.

 

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Copyright (C) 2007 Alain Georgette / Copyright (C) 2006 Frantisek Hliva. All rights reserved.

 
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