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Prezma
Prezma
Mirena Sergeyvich
Cost Characteristic Value Roll Notes
3 STR 13 12- Lift: 151.6kg; HTH: 2 1/2d6; END: [1]
3 DEX 11/26 11- / 14- OCV: 4/9  DCV: 4/9
0 CON 10 11-
-8 BODY 6 10-
8 INT 18 13- PER Roll: 13-
-4 EGO 8 11- ECV: 3; Mental Defense: 0
8 PRE 18 13- PRE Attack: 3 1/2d6
2 COM 13 12-
1 PD 4   Total: 19 PD (15 rPD)
2 ED 4   Total: 19 ED (15 rED)
9 SPD 3/5   Phases: 4, 8, 12/3, 5, 8, 10, 12
0 REC 5   Running: 6" / 12"
0 END 20   Swimming: 2" / 4"
0 STUN 18   Flight: 15" / 30"
 
Prezma | Summary
Real Name: Mirena Sergeyvich Hair Color: Rainbow
Concept: Energy Balster/Metamorph Eye Color: Any
Affiliation: Russian Dawn Height & Weight: 5' 5" (1.65 m) / 127 lbs (57.61 kg)
Played By: Daniel Lindsey Nationality: Russian
Created By: Daniel Lindsey Place of Birth: Novosibirsk, Russia
GM: Noah Thorp Date of Birth: June 4, 1987
Cost Powers END
27 Refract Self: Duplication-Character Splits into Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo and Violet (creates 7 300-point Duplicates), Altered Duplicates (25%; +1/4) (94 Active Points); Side Effects, Side Effect occurs automatically whenever Power is used (Side effect is EMP pulse of 3d6 Flash to Radio recieve/transmit over 16" radius, including character. Defense is power defense or receiver/transmitter being shut off.; -1 1/2), Activation Roll 13- (-3/4), Extra Time (Delayed Phase, -1/4)
57 Manipulate External light sources: Multipower, 71-point reserve, (71 Active Points); all slots Power does not work where there is neither color nor white light (I.E. a pitch-black closed room) (-1/4)
5u 1) Laser Beam: Killing Attack - Ranged 5d6-1 (70 Active Points); No Knockback (-1/4), Power does not work where there is neither color nor white light (I.E. a pitch-black closed room) (-1/4) 7
5u 2) Semi-Coherent Light blast: Energy Blast 12d6, 8 clips of 6 Charges (+0) (60 Active Points); Power does not work where there is neither color nor white light (I.E. a pitch-black closed room) (-1/4)
4u 3) Coherent Form: Killing Attack - Hand-To-Hand 1d6-1, Persistent (+1/2), +2 STUN Multiplier (+1/2), Reduced Endurance (0 END; +1/2), Damage Shield (Offensive; +3/4), Attack Versus Limited Defense (+1 1/2), Affects Physical World (+2) (67 Active Points); No Knockback (-1/4), Power does not work where there is neither color nor white light (I.E. a pitch-black closed room) (-1/4)
5u 4) Light Bind: Entangle 8d6, 5 DEF, 4 clips of 6 Boostable Charges (+0) (65 Active Points); Power does not work where there is neither color nor white light (I.E. a pitch-black closed room) (-1/4)
5u 5) Flash: Sight Group Flash 7d6, Personal Immunity (+1/4), Explosion (+1/2), Selective Target (+1/4) (70 Active Points); 12 Charges (-1/4), Power does not work where there is neither color nor white light (I.E. a pitch-black closed room) (-1/4)
25 Control Color and Form: Multipower, 70-point reserve, (70 Active Points); all slots Activation Roll 13- (-3/4), OIF (-1/2), Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2)
2u 1) Phased Light --by color: Energy Blast 8d6, 8 clips of 6 Charges (+0), Variable Advantage (+1/2 Advantages; Limited Group of Advantages; Armor Piercing, Autofire 3, Affects Desolid, Indirect, Invisible to sight, Explosion, No range Modifier; +3/4) (70 Active Points); Activation Roll 13- (-3/4), OIF (-1/2), Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2)
2u 2) See at a distance: Clairsentience (Sight Group), x16 Range (200"), Increased Arc of Perception, Transmit, Reduced Endurance (0 END; +1/2) (70 Active Points); Activation Roll 13- (-3/4), OIF (-1/2), Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2)
2u 3) Light speed barrier: Force Wall (16 PD; 4" long and 1" tall), 6 Continuing Charges lasting 1 Minute each (+0), Transparent ED (+1/2) (69 Active Points); Activation Roll 13- (-3/4), OIF (-1/2), Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2)
1u 4) Point Defense: Missile Deflection (Any Ranged Attack), Full Range (+1) (40 Active Points); Activation Roll 13- (-3/4), OIF (-1/2), Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2), Will Not Work Against Heavy Missiles (-1/4)
2u 5) Illusory Image: Shapeshift (Sight Group, Any Shape), Usable By Other (+1/4), Reduced Endurance (0 END; +1/2) (52 Active Points); Activation Roll 13- (-3/4), OIF (-1/2), Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2)
2u 6) Holography: Sight Group Images Increases Size (16" radius; +1), +/-6 to PER Roll, Reduced Endurance (0 END; +1/2) (42 Active Points); Activation Roll 13- (-3/4), OIF (-1/2), Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2), Nonselective Target (-1/4)
1u 7) Distracting Images: +6 with DCV (30 Active Points); Activation Roll 13- (-3/4), OIF (-1/2), Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2), Costs Endurance (Only Costs END to Activate; -1/4) 3
1u 8) Laser target marking: +3 with Ranged Combat (15 Active Points); Activation Roll 13- (-3/4), OIF (-1/2), Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2), Costs Endurance (Only Costs END to Activate; -1/4) 1
1u 9) Change appearance of objects: Minor Transform 2 1/2d6, Reduced Endurance (0 END; +1/2) (37 Active Points); Activation Roll 13- (-3/4), OIF (-1/2), Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2)
2u 10) Improve Appearance: Aid 3d6, Can Add Maximum Of 36 Points, Delayed Return Rate (points return at the rate of 5 per Minute; +1/4), Two Powers Simultaneously (+1/2) (68 Active Points); Activation Roll 13- (-3/4), OIF (-1/2), Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2)
45 Phase Shift: Multipower, 45-point reserve
4u 1) Absorb light, heat, radiation, radio. Does not absorb kinetic, sound, magic.: Absorption 5d6 (energy, Vs Energy, into Shield and beam), Can Absorb Maximum Of 40 Points' Worth Of Energy Damage, Two Powers Simultaneously (+1/2) (45 Active Points); Limited Phenomena (-1/4)
4u 2) Particle spread: (Total: 40 Active Cost, 40 Real Cost) Energy Damage Reduction, 50% (Real Cost: 20) plus Physical Damage Reduction, 50% (Real Cost: 20)
4u 3) Wave Form: Desolidification (affected by Darkness Based Attacks) (40 Active Points) 4
1u 4) Massless Light Speed: Flight 2", Usable Underwater (+1/4), Combat Acceleration/Deceleration (+1/4), Reduced Endurance (0 END; +1/2), Megascale (1" = 100,000 km; +1 1/2), Can Be Scaled Down: 1" = 1km (+1/4) (15 Active Points)
4u 5) Bend Light: Invisibility to Sight Group , No Fringe, Reduced Endurance (0 END; +1/2) (45 Active Points)
3u 6) Quantum tunnelling: Teleportation 9", Safe Blind Teleport (+1/4), Combat Acceleration/Deceleration (+1/4), Reduced Endurance (0 END; +1/2) (36 Active Points); Extra Time (Delayed Phase, -1/4)
15 Attributes in Light Form: Enhanced Light Control, 44-point powers, (22 Active Points); all slots Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2)
10 1) Inertialess: +15 DEX (45 Active Points); No Figured Characteristics (-1/2), Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2), Costs Endurance (Only Costs END to Activate; -1/4) 4
15 2) EM Repulsion: Force Field (15 PD/15 ED), Reduced Endurance (0 END; +1/2) (45 Active Points); Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2)
15 3) Not affected by Gravity: Flight 13", Combat Acceleration/Deceleration (+1/4), Reduced Endurance (0 END; +1/2) (45 Active Points); Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2)
13 Light Speed: +2 SPD (20 Active Points); Power Does Not Work In Darkness (-1/2)
5 Psychic Bond: Mind Link , Specific Group of Minds, Psychic Bond (15 Active Points); Only With Others Who Have Mind Link (-1), Stops Working If Mentalist Is Stunned (-1/2), Does Not Provide Mental Awareness (-1/4)
Cost Perquisites
4 Trust Fund: Well Off
Cost Skills
3 Acrobatics 11- (14-)
3 Acting 13-
2 Artistic Skill: Singing 11-
2 Artistic Skill: Musical Instruments 11-
3 Computer Programming 13-
3 Conversation 13-
Everyman Skills
AK: Novosibirsk, Russia 11-
Acting 8-
Climbing 8-
Concealment 8-
Conversation 8-
Deduction 8-
Language: Russian (Idiomatic, native accent)
[Notes: Native Language]
PS: Musician 11-
Paramedics 8-
Persuasion 8-
Shadowing 8-
Stealth 8-
TF: Small Motorized Ground Vehicles
[Notes: Custom Mod is Everyman Skill]
3 KS: American Culture 13-
3 KS: Pop Music 13-
-3 Russian Dawn Team Package
Fringe Benefit: Federal Police Powers
Fringe Benefit: Rank: Lieutentant
KS: Known Superhuman Threats 11-
KS: Russian FSB 11-
Social Limitation: Subject to Orders
Team Communicator: High Range Radio Perception (12 Active Points), IIF (-1/4), (10 Points)
3 Oratory 13-
4 Language: English (completely fluent; literate)
3 Persuasion 13-
3 Systems Operation 13-
3 Teamwork 11- (14-)
200+ Disadvantages
10 Monitored: Russian Nuclear Regulatory Commission 11-
10 Physical Limitation: Gets Sick Easily
10 Physical Limitation: Allergies--Dust, Furry Animals, Molds
10 Physical Limitation: Wierdness Magnet
15 Psychological Limitation: Afraid of the Dark
20 Psychological Limitation: Code against Killing
10 Psychological Limitation: Disillusioned when the Real World is not Black and White
10 Psychological Limitation: Acts Mature, but Isn't
10 Social Limitation: Celebrity
15 Social Limitation: Civic Minded and Responsible
5 Social Limitation: Minor
5 Social Limitation: Reared under Unusual Circumstances
5 Social Limitation: Seen as an Immature Person
10 Social Limitation: Stranger in a Strange Land
5 Susceptibility: Strong Magnetic Fields, 1d6 damage per Minute
0 Experience Points
Prezma | Points Summary
Characteristics Cost: 24 Base Points: 200
Powers Cost: 287 Disadvantages: 150
Talents Cost: 0 Total Experience: 0
Perks Cost: 4 Spent Experience: 0
Martial Arts Cost: 0 Unspent Experience: 0
Skills Cost: 35 Total Points: 350
Background

Junior Lt. Semyenov Dostoevsky eyed the floating sphere warily. It had appeared in front of him, with the words “If you wish to live, follow me” scrolling across its front, some miles back and had been leading him through the trees since that time. He no longer had any doubt that if he strayed too far from it, he would be less than happy with the result. In fact, if the example of the flash-fried fox he had seen earlier was any example, he would be significantly unhappier, if not outright dead. He shivered. The thought that he was here to recruit whatever cold-hearted monster would create defenses such as he had seen destroy the fox made him feel sick. He had seen bubbles of energy which trapped the poor creature, then a beam of light had flared from the sky, piercing through the bubble to. . . it was much to horrible to contemplate.

He came out from the trees, and caught his breath. In front of him was a castle, all made of crystal, with rainbows shimmering into and out of existence within each of the turrets. It didn’t look very. . . Russian. In one of the tops of the turrets, there actually appeared to be a figure. He blinked. The castle had disappeared in front of his eyes, as had the person in the turret. In their place was a two-story compound, with a fence around it. It was a fair sized building, and seemed to have multiple smaller buildings attached to it. There were multiple radar dishes atop the various outlying houses.

The sphere blinked once, and then words again scrolled across it. “Come in, you are welcome. Oh, but don’t touch the fence. And, um, look out for the mine next to your foot.” A red circle suddenly lit up three feet from his right foot. A number of other circles in the ground between him and the house lit up, in various shades of red, green, yellow, and blue. The sphere blinked again, almost like a hiccup, then sped toward the house, zig-zagging between these colored patches.

Junior Lt. Dostoevsky didn’t feel very welcome.

He pressed on, nonetheless, giving wide berth to the colored circles. The things he did for love of country—or fear of failure! At least his arrival seemed to have been anticipated, and his way through the nest of defenses had been facilitated. Perhaps that meant well for his mission. Professor Proserpov was reputed to be one of the driving forces behind some of the more devastating weapons in the army’s arsenal over the past 2 decades. For that reason, he had been left alone for the past dozen years, to do as he desired—so long as the occasional new prototype had been sent to the Soviet government. The Professor was reputed to be fairly jealous of his privacy. Lt Dostoevsky, having seen the anti-aircraft emplacements, the razor wire, and the rest of the defenses, believed it, and wondered what chance there was that a man this determined to maintain his solitude would join a team of any kind, let alone one likely to be in the public spotlight fairly frequently. He also wondered just what, besides his privacy, this mad professor might be guarding.

Having finally finished threading his way through the brightly colored patches of earth, he arrived at what was evidently the front entrance of the compound. This was the door through which the sphere had disappeared. As he was steeling up his courage to rap on the door, it was opened in front of him, by a young woman of striking beauty. She had green spiky hair, a nose ring in her left nostril, and a T-shirt cut above her navel with the word DIE in English characters, and (DIE) printed above it in Cyrillic. He considered his own fur-trimmed heavy jacket, and his breath misting in front of him, and wondered that she wasn’t freezing to death, or even apparently chilly.

“It’s you,” She stated flatly. “Come in, she’s been waiting for you for, like, forever.” She turned sharply on her right foot, and walked into the darkness. From inside, he heard music—Prokofiev, he thought. He’d never actually heard a part for electric guitar in the Lt Kije Suite, but whoever was playing seemed to have introduced one.

The opening hall was dark, but warm, and he was grateful to be able to doff his thick hat and jacket. He turned a corner, following the girl with the startling hair, and was momentarily blinded by the sudden shock of the bright light in front of him. He was more startled by the scene in front of him. There were six young women, each holding—and playing—a different instrument. They were brilliant musicians—literally. Each seemed to shine as though a spotlight was on them. They were in a wide array of costumes, from a blue bodice and full flowing skirt to a red leotard with dancer’s leggings. They had a bewildering range of hair colors, too, from deep ocean blue to a flaming red that could never have been natural. Something about them, however, was very, very disturbing. He looked closer, and very nearly fled. They were all dressed and coifed differently, but they all had exactly the same face!

Robots, he decided wildly. Or clones. Or something else even more unspeakable the master mad scientist has created to throw terror into me. The six were joined by the girl in green, who picked up a violin, and joined in for the finale. They finished with a flourish, and laid their respective instruments at their sides. There was now silence, and all seven were staring at Semeyonov. Feebly, he managed a brief round of clapping. At that, they all lit up simultaneously—literally, and with identical smiles, as well. Red, green, and blue lights chased themselves around the group—he strained to look up at the ceiling to see where the lights were coming from, but couldn’t decide. Finally the lights subsided, and the girl in the center stepped forward, while the other six stood back and watched. She was dressed in a simple white dress which hinted, like an opal or a pearl, at all the colors of the rainbow. She had bright, shimmering white hair, though she appeared no older than seventeen or eighteen. She shone brighter than all the others, and poor Junior Lt. Dostoevsky couldn’t help but catch his breath. She was beautiful beyond description, and she was looking at him like her life depended on him. He didn’t care if she was a robot, or a clone, or a demon—he wanted to kiss her, and protect her, and lay down his life for her.

“I’ve never played for anyone, before. Except for daddy, of course. Did you like it?”

Dumbly, he nodded enthusiastically. Then the word “Daddy” cut through the fog. “Is Professor Proserpov your, uh, father? I’m here to see him.” He hated himself for saying it, but duty came before love—pleasure.

“No, you’re here to see me,” she said, sounding almost petulant. Her Russian was accented in a way he couldn’t place. “Father doesn’t like to be disturbed.”

“He is expecting me. We offered him a. . . position, and he responded with an invitation to come here to talk it over in person.”

She laughed, a tinkling sound, like crystal chiming. “Father hasn’t had anybody here for 10 years now. He hasn’t left for ten years. He would never invite anybody here—especially not to join a group of people to defend the same Russia which exiled him here! And he would certainly never begin a letter of invitation with the words “I would be delighted to have you join me here in Siberia, to discuss the interesting request you have made to me."

Semyenov began to have a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, which joined, and then throttled, the other flutterings he’d had in his stomach just moments earlier. “Then who sent the response, finally, to all the requests we had sent? Did you send the letter, then? Did you get me to come into this trap of death?”

“It’s not a trap”, she cried, “It’s my home! And you’re here to take me away from it!”

“Why me?” the hapless young man asked the ceiling, rhetorically. “Why always me?”

The young girl answered his question, “It’s you because you sent my father the invitation to help Russia against the dangers she faces. I saw your name, and thought how wonderful it would be to be swept up away from this place by somebody related to somebody famous. . .” (inwardly, and outwardly, he groaned.) “and by someone who was a lieutenant, beside!” At that, he choked back bitter laughter. Not wholly successfully, as it started him coughing. She somewhat impatiently waited for him to stop coughing, and then she finished with her final flourish, “And I want to help defend Russia, too! Stop that—Why are you laughing?!”

From the stairs behind her, a mild voice answered, “He is laughing, dear foolish daughter of mine, because you haven’t the faintest idea of what Russia is, let alone what she needs defense from. He is laughing because all seven of you have just made something of a spectacle of yourself. He is laughing because you don’t even know that he is a junior lieutenant, or just how very little that rank means—no offense to you, lad. And he is laughing because that is what Russians do when things become too bleak to cry. But do not worry, young man. I am not the Ogre I am reputed to be. You will leave here safe, you have my oath on it. Perhaps you will even leave here with something that will be what you wanted, if not what you expected.”

“Sir?”

“Junior Lieutenant. . . Dostoevsky, is it? I did receive your letters, asking me to join, or to help outfit, a team of. . . unusual individuals. I chose not to reply, because I choose not to join. I would be of no use to you—I am an old, tired man, and I am nearly out of tricks and ideas. I have no desire to fight anything, or to flee any longer. I have much money, much knowledge, and much power, but only one precious thing left to me. She is truly what you want, whether you know it or not. She is young, and knows little of the world. She does not know Russia—she knows only American MTV, and Hollywood movies, and books about this country. I decided it was time she learned of her real motherland. When I discovered how badly she wanted to adventure, to see the world which rejected me, and which I have long since stopped missing, I realized I could no longer keep her here with me. So I did not block her message from reaching you, and I did not keep you from reaching her. She has all the power, and, more than that, all the heart, that you could want. Return to Moscow in peace, young man, with a job well done, and with my blessings, and with my daughter.”

“Father? Do you really mean it? I’ve lived my whole life with you protecting me, and now you’re just going to let me go?”

“Is that not what you wanted?”

“Yes, with all my heart except that part that belongs to you. I want to go and see the world; I want to go and meet. . . everyone! I want to play my music for other people beside you, and I want to show everybody what I can do. But I don’t want to leave you here, all alone. I won’t. Let Violet stay with you. Or Yellow. Or all of them.”

Semyenov was becoming confused. Then he saw two of the young ladies, still holding instruments, come quietly forward—the one with the golden hair, and the one with the dark black hair with purple highlights, and soft violet eyes. They stood silently behind the one still speaking, who was now actually crying.

“No, Mirena. You must go. All of you. Never do anything without putting all of yourself into it. I have been well before you, and I will be better, knowing that you are where you belong—among people, not cloistered at home with a crotchety old man.”

Meanwhile, despite the touching family drama unfolding in front of him, Semyenov was becoming a little worried. He had come for one man, and seemed to be doomed to leave with seven young women—hardly more than girls. He was not sure that this was exactly what his superiors had been expecting. He wasn’t even sure how all of them would get back to Moscow. He might be able to get one of these young ladies back, safely, but all seven? Never, or at least not without calling in some support.

Mirena, the stunning girl with the white hair, had just finished hugging her father. Semyenov noticed, perhaps, a glistening of the old man’s eyes, too. The girl ran up the stairs, presumably to pack. Semyenov was a little miffed to realize that he’d never exactly agreed to have this passle of females passed on to him, to bring back to Moscow. He had no idea if they were nothing but pretty and petulant and musical, or whether they might have something to offer in a fight—and he was all-too-certain that, at some point, there would be danger to all the people he had been assigned to recruit. He decided to put in a call to headquarters, to see if there was any way he could straighten this out before it became a mess. He politely asked Professor Proserpov, “Sir, this is all very well, and I do trust you when you say that your, uh, daughter will be suited for the position for which I petitioned you. You surely would not let her into the dangers I know you are well aware of. But since I know you have communications available here, may I make a call back to my superiors?”

Proserpov gently shook his head. “I’m afraid when Mirena gets excited, and shows off, it, well, plays some games with all my satellite and radio communications. Considering that all seven of her are here at once, I doubt that anyone within two miles will be able to so much as make a phone call next door, let alone back to Moscow.”

Semyenov was about to ask, “what do you mean, all seven of her at once?”, when his question was answered for him. All the young females, who had been simply standing around looked at each other, gave seven varieties of smile to Semyonov, and then. . . melted, into seven ribbons of color, which flowed up the stairs with a blinding flash. When Semyenov’s eyes had cleared from the glare, he was alone, with the Professor. He began to think that maybe this would not turn out as badly as it had seemed. The one thing he was sure of was that it was going to be a very interesting trip home.

Personality

Miranda is the original unspoiled naïf. She has only just begun to live around real people, instead of just her own "sisters". She thinks she understands Russian culture, from having read Dostoevsky and Pushkin, but in reality she would fit into the superficial teen culture in America better than into the complex, subtle and passionate machinations of Russian society. She has begun to learn of the way the new Russia works, but she still always appears physically to be a native, yet socially is oddly foreign, in ways that baffle but often beguile others.

She does have several things going for her, however, even outside of her unusual powers. She has her self-confidence, which never comes across as arrogance. She has her father's wealth at her disposal, even though she has not yet learned the value of money. She has her innocent beauty, which has turned more than one suspicious Russian to friendliness. Most of all, she has a determination and optimism that everything will be alright, which often bewilders and enchants the pessimistic Russians around her

Quote

By her: "Yeah, I got all the colors of the world in my control, but all I want is the light from your eyes."

By her detractors: "She's just an American, under her Russian face."

By her friends (and the newspapers): "She's everything that Russia needs, right now--beauty and passion, and, most of all, hope!"

Powers

Prism has two kinds of powers--those by which she manipulates the electromagnetic spectrum in her environment, and those by which she assumes some of the properties of light. She can synchronize the photons in the environment at any particular wavelength so that they are all in phase, effectively leading to a laser effect. She can bend light around herself, making herself invisible, or warp light so that it forms images in the air almost indistinguishable from reality. Other powers, however, are beyond even her father's understanding. She has a radically different understanding of light, and of space, than is held by most scientists. To her, control of both is intuitive, and is a mere function of her body and of her will, (though her abilities are notably augmented by any refracting objects). She understands that it is not a question of waves or particles; it is a question of the contours of space and time. Because of this understanding, she can perform feats which are not yet even dreamt of by most physicists. She can use light to fold space, or space to fold light, so that it has actual physical substance, taking the form of floating bright-hued ribbons which can catch a person in their grasp, or subtly deflect both energy and matter into different vectors. She can even shift her body into taking on the characteristics of photons, becoming massless, inertialess, or even out of phase with the rest of reality. She can duplicate herself into muliple avatars, or "spectra", though each reflects a subtlely different element of her personality, has somewhat different abilities and attitudes, and is a starkly different hue of the rainbow. Her most potent power, however, is probably her beauty, and her winning smile and personality.

Appearance

Miranda is a beautiful young woman even without her powers--and when she flares into a being of pure light and promises, she becomes impossibly beautiful. Colors shimmer through her skin, and her long rainbow hair flows without a breeze. Even when not actively shifted into her ethereal form, she is never without a number of pieces of crystal jewelry, on her wrists, her hair, and around her throat. These act as foci for some of her powers, though any substance which will refract will allow her to use these powers. The use of her powers tends to enhance her appearance even more. Her force field shimmers in a rainbow moire around her, her entangle casts a multicolored band around her opponents, her energy blast manifests as a tiny ball of colors which grow enormous as they speed toward their target. But Prism really becomes impressive when she refracts herself into all the colors of the rainbow, and there are 8 of her to enjoy--or to confront. As a full visible spectrum, she not only dominates in combat, swirling around her opponents like a hive of angry insects, she also rocks as a 1 woman, 8 girl band. When playing music, the harmony is incredibly tight, the improvisation flows throughout all members, and the chords are fresh and vibrant. Needless to say, the laser show, generated not from the techies but from the band, is among the most spectacular display there is in the music scene.