Web Site/Origin

Do you have any idea how hard it is being a bike messenger in Paragon City? Like the actual job? It's a killer, lemme tell you. Aside from the obvious physical requirements, there's the insane amount of pressure. The "Get to there from here in minutes" kind of pressure. And little known fact - there are more automobile accidents in Paragon than any other city on the entire eastern seaboard. No lie. Look it up. If it's not people swerving all over the road to avoid some battle between some superjerk and his arch nemesis, it's some bozo ogling Swan in her barely-there costume. And then - WHAM! Fender-bender. Next thing you know, streets are closed off and traffic's diverted, making my job that much harder. And then they wanna' blame me when I'm late. Me! Despite what they tell you in the papers, there's no justice in this world, I swear.

Anyways, my name's Rory Wilson and I'm giving you the 'deets' on my sad, little origin story, in case I ever bite the bullet and people say "Man, that Web Site... He was a right douchebag. I wonder why he did what he did." Well strap in for some insight.

So I grew up in Paragon. Born and bred in Steel Canyon, over along Silver Lake. Childhood was less than ordinary, me being a metahuman and all. Blessed with superhuman agility the doctors told my parents. In front of me, like I wasn't even there, which weirded me out. I mean it's not like it's cancer. Quite the opposite, actually. I'm able to get around more easily than most people. Like those acrobats you see at the circus or those Olympic-level gymnasts pulling off insane backflips and front flips? I could do all that stuff at age eleven.

Sadly, I wasn't blessed with mental agility as well as physical agility or my grades wouldn't have been so shoddy in school. So the only thing I was actually good at was sports. But while the rest of my friends were tackling their way to glory and crap on the football field, I was on the sidelines just watching. My parents let me play for a while, but there was an accident during a game when I showed off and jumped over like ten guys, one of which landed wrong and ended up breaking his arm. Concerned parents called for my head - You'd have thought I shot the kid from the way they all ganged up on me. Me! A fifteen year old knucklehead just trying to play some football. Anyways, the coach and the rest of the team put two and two together and assumed I was either juicing or a meta. They didn't care which one, they just wanted me gone. After we finished out the season, naturally. Assholes.

So now that sports were out of the question and my grades sucked, I wasn't really left with much to do. I mean there was like chess club and comic book club, but... Yeah, no thanks. So I just hung out at home the rest of the school year. My parents thought I was depressed because they're... well, my parents so they signed me up for this support group in the summer. I didn't really wanna' go but to be honest, it's not like I had better things to do. So I end up going - And it actually wasn't bad. There were a bunch of other kids like me - With abilities they didn't quite know what to do with. There was this one kid whose entire body, I kid you not, was made of water. Had to wear a special body suit and everything.

So anyways, one day out of the blue, one of the guys brings by this advertisement. A "Summer Camp For The Specially Gifted" it said. So as a group, we decided to go. I mean, a chance to just kick back and hang out, not having to worry about anyone judging you. Plus, the placelooked great. It was this real big area of forest up north. Tons of space. Anyways, we get there and say goodbye to our parents and then that night everything goes south from there, real fast.

Sketchy guys in hazmat suits busted into our cabins and shoot us all up with tranq darts. They didn't want any of us using our ailities to get away. I wake up, who knows how much time has passed, and we're all in these cells - like the kind they keep animal test subjects in, except well human sized, obviously. And they strapped these clunky metal collars around our necks, which inhibited our abilities. Anyways, as you can guess, there's loads of kicking and screaming as everyone wakes up and realizes what deep doo-doo we're in. Whoever was in charge stopped that real quick though. Scientists in labcoats brought in these tools that looked like cattle prods, poked them through slots in our cells and shocked the bejeezus out of anyone who yelled.

As the days went by, it became clearer as to what they were doing. They'd take us out of our cells once or twice a day and experiments on us. They'd strap us to strange machines, hook electrodes to our heads, or inject us with weird fluids that always made you sick. Sometimes all of the above. If you were one of the unlucky ones, all in the same day. Naturally there was resistance. There was a kid a few cells down from me - big guy, built like a linebacker - who put up a fight every time they took him out. One day they brought him back and he was practically a zombie. They drilled into his head and did something to his brain, god knows what.

I saw some horrible things happen in there. That kid wasn't the last to get "mellowed out" either. There was one of the guys from my group in the cell next to mine. Really nice guy. Quiet, never put up a fight or anything. They got to him too. One of the lab guys used this handheld device on him. They held it in front of his eyes, there was a blue flash of light and then they left. When I asked him what they did to him, he acted like he didn't know me. Forgot anything we ever talked about. He didn't remember anything other than his name. They'd erased all his memories. I promised myself I was getting out and killing whoever was in charge. Speaking of, I think I only the bastard once. Some official looking guy in a suit strode through the lab one day, just looking at all of us. They all adressed him as 'Doctor Thorne' and it was clear he was the one in charge. If I could, I was taking him out.

But I guess my number came up, because a few days later they took me out of my cell, led me to a room I'd never been in, sat me down in this chair that laid back and strapped me up. On a table next to me was the device they had used on my friend. The scientist picked up this big drill and, no lie, was like five inches from drilling into my think-tank when the lights shut off. If there's anyone up there calling the shots, I know they had plans for me because there was this huge crack of thunder and all of a sudden the machine I'm strapped to goes haywire. Sparks are flying everywhere and I'm electrocuted to high hell. Except I wasn't dead. More like... re-energized. I struggled in the chair as people were rushing around outside the room. Electricity surged around me as I broke free. I was getting out of there. The lab tech tried to stop me. I put him through a wall. I took the memory erasing device with me. Could be useful later.

I ran through the building. The power surge must've done something to the security cells because kids all over were scrambling around in the halls. Guards were shooting anyone they saw trying to escape. I'd like to say I was all noble and helped out anyone I could, but honestly, at that moment, it was every man for himself. I couldn't help anyone by sticking around and getting shot.

Whatever happened to me in the chair must have made me stronger because I was literally running through walls, doors, and anyone who got in my way. Nothing could stop me and eventually I made it out. It was pitch black and raining but I'd never been so happy to be outside in my life. I’m not sure if all the guards were busy trying to contain the riot inside or if they were just really confident in their security systems because there no one was posted outside to stop me from escaping. I ran through the underbrush and trees until I reached the highway. Hitchhiked home from there.

My parents were wondering what the hell happened to me so I explained everything. Now back when I was in my cell, I had a lot of time to myself to think. Time to plan and reason things out. Whoever was really pulling the strings had to have a boatload of money to pull off something like that. Enough money to do anything they wanted. If any of us ever did escape, there would be nothing to stop them from coming after us or anyone who helped us. So I took a huge risk. I fiddled with the device I'd stolen and erased my parents memories - Anything that had to do with that camp was gone. Hopefully I didn't erase anything too important.

Things went back to normal after that. Two weeks later, I saw a news story though. "Doctor Thorne" (who apparently gets his paychecks from Crey Industries) was spouting some BS about the horrible tragedy of the camp massacre. He blamed it on a super villain, can you believe that? I'd never been so pissed off in my life. He'd covered the whole thing up. But I wasn't about to let everything slide. A few days later I rode my bike back up to where I'd escaped from. The whole facility they held us in was gone. They'd packed everything away in order to brush this thing under the rug

But I was the last loose end. And as far as I know, no one saw me escape. Aside from that lab tech who tried to stop me. And I doubt he was talking to anyone after that night. And "Doctor Thorne" had unknowingly given me new superpowers. Which I happen to be using quite actively. The punks, purse snatchers, and predators in the street at night are just practice.

I set up a blog to document every little piece of dirt I dig up on Doctor Thorne and Crey Industries. They've tried to trace it and track me down but I know a guy who covers his tracks pretty well.

I'm going to expose what happened there. If it's the last thing I do.