Marvel

Real Name: Prof. Jonathan Crane
Aka: The Scarecrow(Hero/Villain name, if they have one. This doesn’t count if you’re a civilian.)
Age:Middle aged
Hero, Villain or Civilian: Villian
Power(s): (Only for heroes or villains.) The Scarecrow is a mentally unstable former psychologist who uses a variety of drugs and psychological tactics to use the fears and phobias of his adversaries. He does not commit his crimes for wealth, but rather as a form of "research" to further study the effects of fear on humans, making the innocent citizens of Gotham his unwilling guinea pigs.
Weakness(es): (Again, only for heroes or villains.) Well, he's human other than his obsession but he like most people have fears. It's mostly human weaknesses.
Appearance: Dresses as a scarecrow, wearing a brown raggedy jacket and hat
Personality: Mad, quite mad.
History: (Include why your character became what/who they are today.)the Scarecrow is first introduced as Jonathan Crane, a professor of psychology, who turns to crime after he is fired; an expert in the psychology of fear, he had fired a gun in a classroom full of students to illustrate a point. The only thing revealed about his early life is that, as a child, he had liked to frighten birds. Ostracized by his fellow professors for his appearance and reclusiveness, he turned to crime to make himself part of the social elite. His modus operandi is to use his Scarecrow persona and threaten his victims into doing whatever he wants. In terms of his costume, he merely wore ragged black hat, trenchcoat, mask, and wielded a Tommy gun.
Other: (Love Interests or anything else we should know.) Not that I know of.

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A expert on the human psychie, a revolutionary man with new ideas, and powerful plans. A Professor with a Doctorate in Human Behaviour. John Crane was no mad man. Well, the suit could fool, but fear. It enveloped the surroundings. Where else but Las Vegas to find fear, whether of losing or of loss. It's taste. It's feeling. Oh how it consumed. A Scarecrow with more brains than the one from The Wizard of Oz. Fear in all it's beauty.

Fear, the mistress of beauty and sudden allure.

Deafening incandestant flashes erupting from bill boards. A bright and inqusitive smile on his eyes and lips. No one would understand ever how much fear creeped around. It had to be respected, and have it's logic and cruel conniving ways know. Sleep with fear, the mistress who wished to bed the brain, to make love to the mind. To climax and tear it from bliss and placity.

He looked at all this city.

Screams, screams of fear. He would seek out and feed on the fear. Create more, the night was young but 'The Scarecrow' walked, not without cause, no he would go on continuelly until he had found the true and vocal essences of fear.

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Listening to: Much The Same - Wish
via FoxyTunes

Bishop

A drunk stirred in a New York back alley, awakened by a pulsing blue light coming from the middle of the alley. He raised his arm sluggishly, squeezing his eyes shut against a blinding white flash. The drunk stayed that way for a time until he was sure the light had ebbed away, then opened his eyes to see a man walking towards the street. He looked down at the half-empty beer bottle clenched in his hand, then shook his head and sipped from it again.

Bishop looked back at the drunk. The man didn't concern him much - he'd probably just put it down to being blind drunk and half asleep. He turned back to the street, looking both ways before stepping out on to it, walking towards a bar as though he belonged in this time.

He paused at the bar's door to check his pistols, he had a feeling he'd be needing them this night.

Shadowcat. 11:30pm.

Kitty disliked the hotel room immediately. It was cramped - barely enough room for a single bed - and the worn, grey carpet was smothered with scuff marks and cigarette burns. She wrinkled her nose as the scent of cheap perfume drifted towards the open door. Already she wanted to leave but, with a sigh, she entered and threw her bag onto the bed before crossing to the window. That was something at least. After all those steps she'd climbed up, the view would be worth it.

For the first time since arriving, Kitty smiled and threw back the curtains, pressing her face through the glass to feel the breeze against her skin and only then did she open her eyes and stare with disappointment at the view; another building. She groaned and turned away, crossing to the bed where she flung herself down upon the unexpectedly soft covers.

If I'd know that this would be my room, I'd have never volunteered, Kitty thought wryly, a small smile twitching across her lips but she knew it to be a lie. Nothing could have made her miss out on the chance of a lifetime, the chance to meet some of the greatest heroes and be counted amongst them, to battle villains and save the world from evil. That was the life.

There was a knock at the door. Kitty sat up, wondering who it could possibly be. Maybe there are other heroes staying here and they saw me arrive. Perhaps it's one of the other X-Men come to greet me, maybe more of them decided to take the early flight than I thought.

By the way, any point of view is fine. First or third. I use first.

Iron Man 11.45pm

"Tony?"

The blaring sound of heavy metal diminished rapidly, replaced by the tapping of high heels on the concrete floor. I finished with my wrench, dropped it next to my foot, checked a sigh, and turned. Pepper Potts stood no more than ten feet away, still dressed in her professional attire.

"What are you still doing here, Pepper?"

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. "I was about to leave. I just wanted to remind you about your meeting tomorrow night. Six-"

"Six o' clock in Long Island. I know."

"Right. Good night, Mr. Stark."

"Good night, Miss Potts."

I picked up my wrench again and went back to work, listening to the receding sound of high heels on concrete and the rising clash of heavy metal.

Tomorrow.

**I'll edit in Lex in a little. The bell just rang.**