Roving/History

The act I like to refer to as 'Brave New World', covers everything from the events preceding Marshall's birth, from his parents' induction into the Powers Division's ranks to his final days as Bedlam. The title 'Brave New World', fits in more than one way: it is appropriate for what his parents arrival in Praetoria, Marshall's coming to understand Praetoria better, and his own arrival in Paragon in recent days.

The Texas of several decades ago, unsurprisingly, was not much different than it is today. Many of its communities proved to be very tightly knit, most viewing their neighbors as something comparable to family, inviting them into their homes, or otherwise refusing to mistreat them in any way. Particularly, in a rather small neighborhood in Houston, there lived a pair of children by the names of Alison Grey and Alexander Everett. Two children who, at the time, didn't seem out of the ordinary in any way; two perfectly typical children, if they were a bit more excited than many others their age. It was this that led to the two meeting quite early on and developing a friendship that would last for many years; they wanted adventure, rather than the relaxed, family-oriented lifestyle many of their neighbors seemed so focused on, and the two grew to depend on each other. Whenever things would get dull, they would simply join up and go traverse the nearby swamp, or discover whether the elderly woman down the street was truly a witch; they were a dynamic duo, and despite the advice of many of their elders, the two refused to just sit back and let life pass them by. They wanted change. They wanted real adventure.

All throughout the developmental years of their youth, the two were together. from leaping off of the playground as children to attending the same social gatherings together as teenagers. To say that the two were friends would be a severe understatement; they were inseparable. Attached at the hip. Two of a kind. And while everyone else in their community had come to acknowledge that they simply weren't going to sit back and live life as the rest of them wanted to, it was Alison and Alexander themselves who were unsure of their relationship; were they friends? Or were they something more? There were tense moments, a drunken kiss every now and again, a heart-to-heart that might lead to arguments that brought their friendship near the point of no return, but it was an event that occurred as they approached their twenties that solidified their relationship altogether; while attempting to protect the nearby store from would-be robbers, their respective mutant abilities, latent within their DNA manifested themselves. Barely surviving the encounter, the two made a decision; they would become heroes. They would hone their new abilities, and perhaps, be the ones to defend not only Houston, but the entire world with their rather remarkable metahuman abilities.

And when Hamidon attacked, the two had their chance. They were still young, inexperienced, and certainly still victims of the adrenaline rush that was having heroes. They wanted to save something, protect someone, use their powers in whatever way they could, so long as they were being used. They went up against the monster, all enthusiasm and youthful naivety, and it was only when they had beaten battered and bruised, beaten and broken, then they realized that their lack of experience would prevent them from truly harming Hamidon in any way. However, it was when Marcus Cole defeated Hamidon, truly showing the creature that attempting to harm an unsuspecting Earth was a foolish endeavor, that they truly found their calling; they could work for him, gain experience, and truly experience those adventures that they had wanted for so long. Thus, when Praetoria was created, they took up positions as members of Cole's Powers Division, using their powers for the good of society. They were heroes, their names hailed through the streets as any other member of the Powers Division was. And they could not have been happier - not until they gave birth to young Marshall, anyway.

It had been proven that, as far as mutants were concerned, powers had been proven to manifest themselves in either stressful situations or the presence of similarly powered individuals. It was this that led to Marshall spending almost the entirety of his childhood not in the company of fellow children or television shows, but with the heroes that fought for the good of Praetoria. They were his friends, his family, his companions. Telepaths, speedsters, and weapon-wielders alike taught him the way of the world. Some had honest intentions, and truly intended to help assist in making Marshall's life wonderful. Others were simply wondering whether he would prove the best way to manipulate or defeat his parents. But most were wondering one thing: was the boy super? Was he like his parents, or was he simply another human, truly of no worth to them whatsoever. As the years passed, and even being in the presence of some of the Powers Division's biggest names failed to bring about any abilities, many lost faith that he was truly of any worth to them. But what many failed to realize was that, at least in Marshall's case, the superhuman development was waiting for another development altogether: puberty.

When he turned twelve, and a brawl broke out between two of the rather temperamental heroes at his birthday party, that Marshall's powers manifested themselves; suddenly, he could hear why it was that they were fighting. Not only that, but that one of his father's closest friends was having financial troubles, and that another was regretting having slept with a TPN reporter. And while he was quite excited by the fact that he himself had seemingly powerful abilities, they grew quite old quite quickly. He heard everything, the good, the bad, and the ugly, the emotions of everyone around him slamming into his mind in a cacophonous wave. It nearly drove him mad, often leading to him curling up into a ball and weeping as he lost everything that made him who he was - he was the mother of two, the murderous assassin, the homely reporter. He was simply a helpless victim, his mind nothing more than a radio station tuned into far too many frequencies. But the final push that sent him spiraling into madness came in the form of a mysterious individual, mind veiled behind immensely powerful psionic walls, who came to his home and slayed his parents were they stood. He heard it all, their final thoughts, the feeling of their vital organs being punctured, ruined. The life slipping away from them. All he could discern that this was one of their allies, a fellow member of the Powers Division, a friend who had betrayed them when they least expected it.

If not for the timely intervention of Shalice Tilman, otherwise known as Mother Mayhem, Cole's resident telepath, he would almost certainly have taken his own life. The thought had crossed his mind, manifesting itself in a telepathic wave of pain and fear that flooded from his young form and throughout the city, amplified by pain and his raw psionic ability. She came to him, perhaps out of a desire to aid him, or perhaps because he seemed too much of a threat to be left to his own devices; whatever the case, she took him under her wing, and trained him as she did her other Seers. Namely, wiped his fractured psyche clean, limiting his telepathic ability at the same time. He was rather powerful, more powerful than your average telepath anyway, and she did not need him breaking free of her 'programming'. And it was in this way that he became just another Seer, nothing more than a number and controlled abilities that were utilized to keep the city safe.

Three years. Three years passed without Marshall truly being aware of any of it, simply another soldier within a telepathic army that kept the society safe. They were the peacekeepers, removing any threats that decided to rear their ugly heads... even before they actually reared them. And though the process was terrible, the entire period remaining a blank slate within his psyche, it proved fruitful in more than one way. For one, through his training as a Seer, his abilities were honed to remarkable degrees, the fundamentals of telepathy instilled within him from day one. For another, his telekinetic abilities that would likely have remained latent indefinitely otherwise were forced to the surface, forming him into a warrior effective in both head-on and more subtle situations. But perhaps the most wonderful moment, strangely, was when he had the snot beaten out of him by another telepath; this one under the employ of the Syndicate. It was this, the unashamed tearing apart of his psyche, that shattered a part of Praetor Tilman's mental blockades, his powers seeping through and restoring him to who he truly was. In control of himself and unwilling to return to the Seer program, he turned to the alternative; the Powers Division, Praetor White's little worker bees. But it was not that he wanted to be anyone else's slave - the holes in his memory were enough to prevent that. He wanted to make a name for himself, and honor his parents' names. He would become Bedlam, hero to the masses. And while he was sure that somewhere nearby, his parents' killer was watching, he would be ready. Under the guise of fighting for the good of society, he would gather information and hunt the traitorous individual down. That was his vow.

The name of Bedlam and a very iconic, recognizable costume donned, Marshall set upon the path of becoming a hero that the public would adore. He was everywhere, smacking Resistance members in the face, and making a Syndicate member or six believe to be four year old girls. Though his beginnings were humble, running errands for those that were superior to him, obeying those that he truly despised, it did not take long for Bedlam to come to be viewed in public, adored by the people. He was working not alongside other no-names within the Powers Division, but alongside Bobcat and Marauder, Synapse and Chimera. He had achieved his goal. He was a hero, living in a city that he loved, that was filled with such fond memories and experiences. A city that he would have to leave. Emperor Cole himself approached him, desiring for him to travel to another dimension. To integrate himself there, and, essentially, spy upon that world's residents in preparation for some sort of 'invasion.' Marshall was reluctant, scared, and on the verge of refusing; what reason did he truly have to abandon his home, particularly when he had not yet succeeded in discovering the identity of his parents' killer? But this was the Emperor. He truly had no choice.

It was in this way that Marshall found himself on Primal Earth, among heroes that did not have any idea who he was. This was a world where heroes and villains alike worked for themselves, rather than being under the control of any higher authority. It was a free place, and a place that certainly shook him up at first. It was when he met a man his age by the name of Evan Yukito that he found a guide to help him learn the way of the world; as far as Jiro was concerned, Marshall was just a foreigner, which was, in a way, true. And the two became fast friends. It was through him that Marshall found an apartment in Steel Canyon, and learned what he needed in order to both become an American citizen and start on the path of becoming a hero; in the months that followed, he did just that, cementing himself within Paragon City. And, truth be told, coming to realize that he loved the city almost as much, if not more, than he did his home. He had friends, and he was living in a world where he did not need to fear being shot in the face for disobedience, or finding his mind wiped clean for a simple mistake. He was in turmoil; to stay, and truly live life in Paragon, disregarding his home entirely, or to put his new life at risk by doing as the Emperor asked? It was a horrid choice, and one that he had not been sure that he would ever be able to make.

Thus, Marshall kept his true allegiance dubious. If the emperor believed that he was doing as he had been instructed to, no harm done. And in the meantime, he would come to learn and understand Paragon City better, particularly with the aid of Evan, and only when he had truly come to learn this new world that he had been sent off to that he would make his choice. If the place proved as expendable as Cole seemed to believe, he would follow through with his task, and aid in the invasion. But if he came to love the place... he would do all that he could to stop him. In the months that followed, Marshall made many friends, many allies, and several foes, all of various backgrounds and social status. There were some he loved, some he despised, but they all played a part in shaping the world for him; it did not take long for him to realize that Primal Earth was where he wanted to be. This would be his home, and Cole could go fall down the damned Well of the Furies, for all he cared. Perhaps the tip of the iceberg for him was meeting and associating himself with several members of a local collection of heroes by the name of the Palladium Sentry, a group that he would quite quickly join; they were his allies, and it was in them that he trusted. Not the Powers Division.

It seemed, strangely enough, that Marshall had been being watched. Not two days after he had made his inner decision to forsake Cole and his whole regime, instead becoming a resident of Primal Earth in every capacity, an assassin was sent after him, a telepath with a startlingly familiar mental signature. And it was after assaulting the man's psyche that Marshall realized who this truly was: the Primal incarnation of himself, sent by some higher power to remove him from the ranks of the living. In his shock, Marshall failed to save what mattered most; in that single moment when he recoiled, shocked to be so unexpectedly confronted by his Primal self, Evan's mind was wiped clean, and their apartment, as well as the surrounding building, was burnt to the ground. And though hope seemed lost, there was a glimmer of hope; literally. Marshall had not been powerful enough to fend off his Primal self, and just as he yearned for greater power, to avenge Evan and protect himself, a mask was handed to him, salvaged from the rubble of his home. And in that moment, Marshall came to a realization: Evan had been a hero in his own right. The Roving Mask, as an ethereal voice revealed within his mind. Donning it, he was granted an entirely new set of magical abilities and a new costume; complete with mystical shield and imbued with incredibly powerful magicks, Marshall gave up the mantle of Bedlam, and instead became the second incarnation of the Roving Mask.

The second act, 'Seven Minutes to Midnight', will cover Marshall's adventures as the Roving Mask. From the destruction of his apartment and subsequent acquisition of the mask in question to the events that will follow, all will be covered in this act. Do note that this act is still in progress, and will steadily be added to as Marshall progresses towards that goal of hitting the level cap once more.

Though he has been given power in droves, his once minor magical potential increased exponentially, Marshall found that he was at war with himself. He was just as social and fun-loving outside of his costume, despite the fact that he had no home, but when he donned the costume, he seemed an almost completely different person. He was ruthless, willing to pummel justice into his foes without a moment's hesitation. Even stranger were the wisps of ethereal energy, the meaningless whispers in his mind that even his psychic blocks could not filter out. He was powerful, but he was becoming more of a vigilante every day; and strangely enough, he liked it. That feeling of launching off the top of a building to come crashing down on an unsuspecting foe... it was the greatest feeling in the world. There was something strange about his newly discovered abilities, something that wasn't quite right with them, but even he could not deduce what it was. The Roving Mask was a warrior, and Marshall was just along for the ride; a ride that he certainly seemed to be liking...

Last Updated: 8/1/2011