Abigail Ortiz

Codename: Panzer
Nickname(s): Abby, #426426(Her prison number), Big sis(Steel Lynxes)
Age: 26
Race: Human - Cyborg
Alignment: Chaotic neutral
Is this a canon?: Original


Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Red
Gender: Female
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 370lbs (Originally 170lbs)
Other Traits:



Main Power Origins: Science

Powers
Chromed up & Crazy: Experimental high-strength plastics, polymers and high-density, heat-resistant ceramics make up the majority of Panzer's skeletal structure, while her central nervous system has been tweaked, boosted and enhanced by a plethora of highly illegal neurological and experimental cybernetic modifications that's turned an otherwise normal street thug into one hundred and seventy five pounds of trouble in a five pound bag. The total listing of the modifications, their exact detailing and explanations would fill a booklet. But she's been enhanced above and beyond the normal limitations of humans. Enhanced strength, enough so that she can rip a vault door off it's mounting and use it like a giant cumbersome shield, fast enough to overtake the world's fastest athletes, tough enough to go toe to toe with other enhanced beings and inhuman reflexes being the most notable boosts. But she's not exactly human anymore, more like a mil-spec combat borg and thus, not as limited in what she can accomplish. She has an ungodly level of stamina, owing to an enhanced circulatory system. New lungs, reinforced vascular system, musculature replaced with more efficient Myomer fiber bundles. Which is a fancy way of saying, she has near limitless amounts of stamina.

Sub powers -

"Excelsior" reflex booster: Abigail was a quick woman, even before she was stuffed full of ware. A veteran cage-fighter with numerous bouts under her proverbial belt, all that's small peas after she got her upgrades. The Excelsior reflex package is a combination of Alterations to the subjects Central nervous system, increasing signal strength and speed between afferent and efferent nerves, as well as a sophisticated central processing unit designed to capture, regulate and parse the information. Resulting in a Three hundred percent increase in subjects reactionary response times. Excelsior is also equipped with a small "Bulletcatcher" overdrive setting that temporarily pushes past safe limits, effectively redlining the subject to the point the world slows to a crawl. In laymen's terms. It's bullet time. Shortlived as it is (About 2 posts followed by a cooldown of another two posts as the system takes a slight break to cool down.)

"Titan industries" Ogre class cyber body: Advanced myomer muscle bundles, micro-hydraulics and servo motors, all lovingly tucked away into a set of four limbs and torso, with titanium reinforcements anchoring everything securely in place. The limbs themselves are compromised of Titanium nitride ceramics, layered over a body of carbon composite plastics giving it durability and resilience on par with most commercially available alloys. She can lift upwards of thirteen tons and because of specialized hydraulics and shock absorbers in her legs, can survive a ten story fall with only a bit of disorientation.

"Fire power" Refractory heat conversion: Additionally, her new body's been layered with Zirconium dioxide, a well known refractory material used in applications where the materials in question, must withstand extremely high temperatures. Sandwiched and laced between the dermal and subdermal layer of her chassis, Abigail's body can survive in temperatures upwards of 2,715 degrees Celsius, for several minutes at a time and thanks to an ingenious little Thermo electric generator that siphons off excess heat and converts it into energy, keeping her awake, alert and, most importantly, keeps her mechanical bits charged with juice.

"Kontakt" Subdermal armor: Aside from the heat-resistant layer, Panzer possesses a sophisticated layer of subdermal armor, the same kind of composite layering you'd see on Frontline IFV'S and tanks. Depleted promethium ceramic composites, non-newtonian fluid impregnated kevlar, shock absorbing rubbers and gel padding. She's built to last and in a toe to toe match with herself, for example, comes out about even on all fronts. She can take as much as she can give, with heavy resistance to small and medium caliber firearms bordering on immunity.

Pulsed energy projectile: Panzer's left arm possesses a pep, or Pulsed energy projectile based weapon that utilize a faint green laser pulse which, upon contact with the target, ablates the surface and creates a small amount of exploding plasma. This produces a blast of pressure  that stuns the target(s) and knocks them off their feet, and electromagnetic radiation that affects nerve cells, causing a painful sensation as well as temporary paralysis. A couple seconds. Long enough for her to get in striking distance. A nasty weapon to be sure, that makes your body feel like every square inch is on fire. But that's at normally appropriate settings. Non-lethal settings. At higher settings, damage becomes more severe, longer lasting, as the pulse burns into a target with all the intensity of an industrial cutting laser.


Skills
Expert fighter - Abigail's a fighter. It's how she survived the mean streets of Steel city. Just her, herself and her fists. She was a beast with a mean right hook and her choice of fighting has always been the sweet science. Even during her stint in Blackgate prison, she'd practice and hone her pugilistic prizefighting skills on the other inmates. Putting many a fellow inmate in the back of many a meat wagon. She's also a fan of dirty fighting, like spitting in the eyes, biting, gouging, ect, ect. There's really no point in fighting fair, fair's for suckers.

Exceptional business sense - Panzer, in spite of her mercurial nature, has an excellent sense for running a business, or in this case, a gang. From racketeering to running drugs, guns and people. She keeps everything on a tight leash, knows how to balance the books and launder all of that cash with all the finesse of a syndicate. But packed away into a small little gang on the docks of Steel city.

Decent guitarist - Everyone's gotta have a hobby ya know? And Panzer's no different than anyone else. She fancies herself a guitarist, a decent one at that and prefers heavy songs, metal, rock, punk, ect, ect.

Exceptional free-runner: It pays to get around steel city quickly, and a skill like free-running certainly fits the bill for something useful. She spends a good amount of time practicing, taking to the rooftops of steel, the grimy industrial pipes and she's good at it, moves with a practiced grace over and under obstacles. Steel city is her home and she damn well knows nearly every little shortcut she can take.
Abilities
Exceptional Moxie:

Exceptionally Assertive:

Exceptional Pragmatism:

Physical Weaknesses
Electronic Warfare: Even in lieu of proper precautions, a crafty computer whiz could pull off a few creative ways to muck up her cybernetics. Like throwing gunk into fine gearwork.

Cold: The treatment that made her body highly heat resistant had a slight draw back. Well, more of a design oversight. They didn't stop to consider other temperature extremes, like for example, cold temperatures. Hell, anything that can really crank down the heat, really, the very aspect of cold is anathema to the Hot-blooded Gang leader. Prolonged exposure to the cold slows her down, makes her sleepy and sluggish, like a reptile, until she's forced to enter a state of hibernation.

Trace metals: Despite the heavy usage of ceramics and high-strength polymers, they couldn't fully avoid using metal in certain key components. Like, for example, the bones of her new body and someone that can manipulate metal could, in function, bend her to their will. And electricity, despite the insulating layers of ceramic, or even possibly thanks to it, hurts her as well as it would a normal human.

Mental Weaknesses
Her crew: The Steel lynxes aren't just a ragtag band of gangbangers from steel city, they're a family. Sure, they're a family of drug dealers, pimps, smugglers and racketeers. But they're a family and she cares for them, deeply. A good way to throw her off her game is threatening the gang, it'll piss her off to no end and she doesn't think so clearly when she's seeing visions of crimson agony.

Thrill seeker: Abigail and danger are like best friends. The kinda friends that drug each other up for shits and giggles. Except he's providing that sweet epinephrine. And while her normal line of work keeps it flowing nice and steady, sometimes she get's a craving for more and there's few things more exciting than picking a fight with a super hero, or a whole mafia family for the shits and gigz. Plus it's low effort, just start breaking stuff and someone's bound to show up.
Equipment
Zippo lighter: Just a matte black zippo lighter, sporting a stylized white anarchy symbol.

Pack of Marlboro silver's: Ye olde deathsticks, pack of twenty-five.

Handheld metal pipe: A simple and robust, metal "tobacco" pipe.

Marijuana: A small baggie of weapons grade SHOGUN. Is it legal? Possibly. Does she care what the cops think? Fuck no.




Personality
An adrenaline junkie like no other, Abigail is always bouncing from one thrill to another with all the zeal of a child on a sugar rush. She's a hedonist with no care for rules, only doing what makes her good and happy, whenever and wherever she feels like it and damn the costs. Plus, she's got a profound distaste for bullies and the self-righteous, both of which, to her, are two sides of the same coin. She's about power to the people, to the individual and while she's no saint of saints, she gives back to her community. Shows appreciation to the people who've shown her a spot of good. She protects them from outsiders. She doesn't just do it out of the goodness in her heart, she's in it for the adrenaline rush, the surge of a violent clash with rival gangs and metahumans. Plus the cash is a nice fat cherry on top.

But she's also got a mellower side, the kind that enjoys sitting at a bar table, swapping stories, listening to some good hard rock and slugging back some drinks. It's the surprisingly level-headed side of her, relaxed and focused on the present. The side of her that's ready to sit down and strike a deal. The side that's slaked her thirst for excitement and just, wants, to unwind for a bit. She takes enjoyment out of a nice relaxing jam session on he guitar, and making the occasional pass at someone she's taken an interest in.

She's a rough shod person through and through, brutish and violent in manner, yet child-like in her energy and zeal. Combine that with a bullheaded bravado and you have someone that...few can ultimately stand. But to the people she can call friend, she's loyal to a fault. Won't stop her from trying to fight you, but she'll have your back through thick and thicker.


Family Members: The Steel Lynxes
Place of Origin: Steel City - New Jersey

History
It wouldn't be out of the question to say that the streets literally raised Panzer. But for a time she was unfortunately Abigail Ortiz, daughter to a drunk, deadbeat cop of a father and a Diner waitress mother, that simply sat by and tuned it out. Life was always eggshells though, the tension and dread of making one wrong step and..crunch. A black eye on a Tuesday, bloody nose on a Friday. And some people wonder how bad things happen to decent people when it all blows up someday. So it's no surprise she developed a budding distaste for Authority figures, and by that extension, bullies. Nor was it a big surprise when she ran away from home at the tender age of 13. Didn't take long for the cops to find her after a while. Hiding in a drain pipe, covered in grime and filth, face a swollen lump of bruises. He'd been in the liquor again, another drunken fit and this one was severe enough that custody of Abigail was remanded to the state, and placed into foster care.

Which, in turn, ping ponged her between families at least five times a month. She was thankful for at least the one foster father who got her boxing lessons, most anyone's done for her in her life, but it gave her an idea, on how to make the most of that gift. So she studied and practiced, sometimes by copying what she saw, and sometimes, she managed to convince her next foster family to get her boxing lessons. This continued, along with irregular school education until she was 18. And she was ejected from the foster care. Old enough to be an adult, but not old enough to smoke or drink? The fuck?

Anyways, got a job. Had to, if she wanted to survive. Her boss was an asshole, her co-workers were..some of them were okay, rest were a buncha tot waffles. She could deal with that too, money made things a little better. Least it got her enough money to afford going to one of those no-name gyms that's kind of out of the way, yet, surprisingly decent hobby boxers go there? Yeah, it was like that and they were all assholes, well at first. Until she dropped one of them in a full contact spar, just had to tickle his chin a few times. Learned how to be cheap, but still play within the rules. And besides, the guy seemed to favor covering his face a little too much. They gave me the guy with a glass jaw? Seriously?

Guy was...good, fast footwork, five rounds in and she stepped in, just as he fired off the beginning of a one two combo. Crunch. She slipped a cross counter in, followed by a sharp hook while he was reeling and the man was on the floor. Both of them bloodied and swollen, out of breath and once the adrenaline began to wear off, sufficient wince-worthy pain. So she stuck around for a few years, learned all she could, then vanished for a year or two.

Before turning up in blackgate prison for attempted robbery, assault and battery of three officers and public annoyance. Huh. They actually charged me with that. That's kinda funny. S'like Arson murder and Jaywalking.

Twenty years old, and in the pen. The first scrap was with, well, the inmates called her big bertha. Full head and shoulders taller than Abigail, went down like a sack of hammer heads. No sense of preservation. Went all in and wound up with a broken jaw and fractured skull as a result. Which is how she caught the wardens attention.

Invited her into this little competition, a sort of fight club if you will, or blood sport pit if you prefer. This went on for months, near-death encounters. No rules in there, so the guy came at her with a shiv. She gave him a one two jab to the throat. She spent a month in the prison medical wing, recovering from six stab wounds. And the fights kept coming. He promised her he'd get her out in no time. If she won him this last little bet.

She won alright. Against a venom'd out inmate, but she was broken for it. And her reward? A bullet.

He got her out alright. Wrapped up nice and pretty in a body bag and shipped off to some god awful secret government facility in the middle of nowhere. Now, normally, you don't exactly survive dying. But imagine waking up like a prepackaged sardine in a can, god knows when and where, with a throbbing headache like someone had spent a month beating your skull with a hammer. You'd be pretty pissed too. Didn't even stop to think of why the coffin, which was made of steel, pulled apart like putty. Screw naked and afraid. I'm goddamn bare and belligerent!

Just knew someone needed a beating. Didn't care the why's or how's but, that lie was the last bitter, fetid, drop in a bucket as she went on a rampage through the facility. Left a trail of broken, wailing bodies behind her and she didn't stop.

Not until she was outside, caught a whiff of that chemically tainted air and burst out laughing. Then caught her reflection in the water, checked it out, as a sensation of horror washed over her. That wasn't her face in the pool, none of it was, as she looked at her mechanical replacements. All of it and the horror faded. She wasn't Abigail anymore. She was something else and more importantly, shit's gone full circle. She was back in steel city. She was home. She was gonna keep her hood safe. And she couldn't have been more happy to be home.

And her first order of business? Start a gang, take over a slice of steel cities' rotten pie and live life better through crime. Good to be back steel city! Now, I'mma gonna make you my bitch for a change. Keep my people safe. And have fun doing it~


"Ggggggoood morning Steel city! It's a rare sunny day, so grab your sunblock and sunglasses and go out and enj-Krrzkz" A balled up metallic fist slammed into the alarm clock radio, shattering the appliance as a very groggy woman stumbled up out of bed, blindly fumbling about in the dark for her pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "Fuck, where are the- Ah, fuck!" Her words were irate and harsh as she tripped over a pair of boots, tumbled headfirst into a wall, a wall that's seen far too many patch jobs. But, she found her lighter in the process of climbing back to her feet. Right there on the window ledge. Along with her smokes and, like anyone starving for a fix, she grabbed up the pack, yanked out one of the yellow tipped cancer sticks and lit up.

"Yeah, real good morning here, bud." She'd grunt out, as she scratched the side of her head with the bottom of the lighter, pulling a drag off the ciggy as the cherry tip glowed a reenergized red and her brain began to run numbers. Last night's heist; couple crates of assault weapons, bout two hundred kilograms of pure Columbian blow, couple hundred thousand in dirty money. She knew how to fix that problem. The coke, she'd leave to her distributors and the guns? That's going in the reserves.

"Ha, Sparacello must be pissing his pressed Armani suit right now. S'what ya get for tryin to take what's rightfully mine. My stuff is my stuff and now some of your stuff, is also my stuff. Now, what should I take from him next week....Mmmmh." Stubbing the cigarette out on a heat burnt spot of the ledge she turned around. "Shower first, straight forward schemes later, I suppose. Then I gotta get ready for tomorrow. God, I love Tuesdays at the SCPD. Mmm, maybe restock on cybernetics. Might have to ask around." Panzer looked in the mirror as she crossed over into the bathroom and thumbed a bedraggled strand of hair from her face offering the reflective surface a smile full of childish excitement, mixed with a look that spoke of chaos and bedlam. "Actually, yeah, yeah, it's gonna be a good morning after all, Steel city. Think it's about time I expanded my territory a lil bit. Muscle out some of the other gangs. Buuut, first!"

One second later, and the door was closed to the sound of rushing water, singing and various external arguments over seemingly nothing and everything.
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Megalomaniacs