Jason Jones
Cost Characteristic Value Roll Notes
40 STR 50 19- Lift: 25.6tons; HTH: 10d6; END: [5]
84 DEX 38 17- OCV: 13  DCV: 13
46 CON 33 16-
20 BODY 20 13-
13 INT 23 14- PER Roll: 14-
0 EGO 10/20 11- / 13- ECV: 3/7; Mental Defense: 7/9
0 PRE 10/20 11- / 13- PRE Attack: 2d6 / 4d6
2 COM 14 12-
10 PD 20/26   Total: 20/26 PD (0/6 rPD)
7 ED 14/20   Total: 14/20 ED (0/6 rED)
42 SPD 9   Phases: 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 10, 11, 12
0 REC 17   Running: 9" / 18"
0 END 66   Swimming: 2" / 4"
0 STUN 62  
Widower | Summary
Real Name: Jason Jones Hair Color: Brown
Concept: Brick/Gadgeteer Eye Color: Brown
Affiliation: Solo Uber Height & Weight: 6' 2" (1.89 m) / 201 lbs (91.00 kg)
Played By: Kevin Schultz Date of Birth: January 8th, 1992 (originally August 12th, 1965)
Created By: Kevin Schultz Place of Birth: Cleveland, OH, USA
Cost Powers END
90 Web Tricks: Multipower, 135-point reserve, (135 Active Points); all slots OIF (-1/2)
1u 1) Grab It Out of the Air: Missile Deflection (Any Ranged Attack) (20 Active Points); Costs Endurance (-1/2), OIF (-1/2) 2
9u 2) Spider Web: Entangle 6d6, 6 DEF, Area Of Effect (6" Radius; +1), Selective (+1/4) (135 Active Points); OIF (-1/2) 13
1u 3) Web Glob: Stretching 6" (30 Active Points); OIF (-1/2), Always Direct (-1/4), No Velocity Damage (-1/4) 3
3u 4) Web Line: Swinging 30", Reduced Endurance (0 END; +1/2) (45 Active Points); OIF (-1/2)
9u 5) Web to the Face!: Sight Group Flash 12d6, Area Of Effect (6" Radius; +1), Selective (+1/4) (135 Active Points); OIF (-1/2) 13
6u 6) Web Shield: Force Wall (12 PD/12 ED; 1" long and 11" tall) (Opaque: Normal Sight) (85 Active Points); OIF (-1/2) 8
Iron WIll
10 1) Stron Will: +10 EGO (20 Active Points); Limited Power Defensive Only (-1)
4 2) Iron Will I: Mental Defense (7/9 points total) (5 Active Points); Nonpersistent (-1/4)
4 3) Iron Will II: Power Defense (5 points) (5 Active Points); Nonpersistent (-1/4)
10 4) Never Gives Up: Luck 2d6
In Amazingly Good Shape
2 1) Amazing Constitution I: Life Support (Extended Breathing; Sleeping: Character only has to sleep 8 hours per week)
5 2) Amazing Constitution II: Rapid Healing
10 3) Amazing Stamina I: Energy Damage Reduction, 25%
10 4) Amazing Stamina II: Physical Damage Reduction, 25%
5 5) Physical Presence: +10 PRE (10 Active Points); Limited Power Offensive Only (-1)
Moves Like a Spider
10 1) Wall-running: Clinging (normal STR)
6 2) Quick Like a Spider I: Running +3" (9" total) 1
6 3) Quick Like a Spider II: Leaping +6" (16" forward, 8" upward) 1
15 4) Hard to Hit: +3 with DCV
12 5) Tough to Hit: Combat Luck (6 PD/6 ED)
34 Web Fluid: Endurance Reserve (500 END, 1 REC) (51 Active Points); OIF (-1/2)
Spider Tracer, all slots Lockout (-1/2), IIF (-1/4)
22 1) Clairsentience (Radio Group), x32 Range (4800"), Reduced Endurance (0 END; +1/2) (67 Active Points); Fixed Perception Point (-1), Lockout (-1/2), One Sense Only (-1/4), IIF (-1/4)
4 2) Radio Perception (8 Active Points); Lockout (-1/2), IIF (-1/4)
Cost Talents
13 Universal Scientist (20 Active Points); Limited Power Instinctual (-1/2) 14-
36 Danger Sense (immediate vicinity, any danger, Function as a Sense) 18-
Cost Martial Arts
Maneuver Phase OCV DCV Notes
36 Spider Fu
Flying Dodge 1/2 -- +4 Dodge All Attacks, Abort; FMove
Legsweep 1/2 +2 -1 11d6 Strike, Target Falls
Martial Block 1/2 +2 +2 Block, Abort
Martial Escape 1/2 +0 +0 65 STR vs. Grabs
Martial Grab 1/2 -1 -1 Grab Two Limbs, 60 STR for holding on
Martial Strike 1/2 +0 +2 12d6 Strike
Martial Throw 1/2 +0 +1 10d6 +v/5, Target Falls
Offensive Strike 1/2 -2 +1 14d6 Strike
Passing Strike 1/2 +1 +0 10d6 +v/5; FMove
Cost Skills
20 +2 Overall
0 Everyman Skills
AK: Cleveland, OH, USA 11-
Acting 8-
Climbing 8-
Concealment 8-
Conversation 8-
Deduction 8-
Language: English (idiomatic) (4 Active Points)
PS: Student 11-
Paramedics 8-
Persuasion 8-
Shadowing 8-
Stealth 8-
TF: Custom Adder, Small Motorized Ground Vehicles
[Notes: Custom Mod is Everyman Skill]
11 Jack of All Trades
PS: Accountant (3 Active Points) 14-
PS: Coach (3 Active Points) 14-
PS: Football Player (3 Active Points) 17-
PS: Mechanic (3 Active Points) 14-
20 Parker's Instinct
Bugging 14-
Electronics 14-
Inventor 14-
Mechanics 14-
Systems Operation 14-
13 Scholar
KS: Current Events/Politics (3 Active Points) 14-
KS: Guns (3 Active Points) 14-
KS: Law (3 Active Points) 14-
KS: Uberhumans (3 Active Points) 14-
KS: World History (3 Active Points) 14-
44 Spider Instinct
+2 with HTH Combat
Acrobatics 17-
Breakfall 17-
Climbing 17-
Concealment 14-
Contortionist 17-
Defense Maneuver I-IV
Power: Power Tricks 17-
Shadowing 14-
Stealth 17-
2 WF: Rifles, Shotguns
1 WF: Clubs, Staffs
600+ Disadvantages
Being a Teenager Sucks
15 1) Reputation: New Kid, 14-
15 2) Social Limitation: Teenager (Very Frequently, Minor)
10 3) Hunted: Foster Family 14- (Less Pow, PC has a Public ID or is otherwise very easy to find, Watching)
20 4) Dependent NPC: Family and Friends 14- (Normal; Useful Noncombat Position or Skills; Unaware of character's adventuring career/Secret ID)
10 5) Rivalry: Professional and Romantic (various people who don't like him; Rival is As Powerful; Seek to Outdo, Embarrass, or Humiliate Rival; Rival Aware of Rivalry)
Trapped in TV-land
15 1) Social Limitation: Secret Identity (Frequently, Major)
15 2) Physical Limitation: Can't Get Away from the Story Line (All the Time, Slightly Impairing)
15 3) Hunted: Djinn 8- (Mo Pow, NCI, PC has a Public ID or is otherwise very easy to find, Watching)
15 4) Hunted: This Season's Villain 11- (As Pow, Harshly Punish)
Mid-life Crisis
10 1) Psychological Limitation: Middle-aged Man Trapped in a Teenager's Life (Common, Moderate)
10 2) Psychological Limitation: Feels Guilty Over the Deaths of His Family (Common, Moderate)
Widower | Points Summary
Characteristics Cost: 264 Base Points: 600
Powers Cost: 288 Disadvantages: 150
Talents Cost: 49 Total Experience: 0
Perks Cost: 0 Spent Experience: 0
Martial Arts Cost: 36 Unspent Experience: 0
Skills Cost: 111 Total Points: 750

Hereís a piece of hard-earned wisdom: pre-Islamic spirits of the Arabic peninsula whose portfolio includes the ability to re-write reality donít appreciate cleverness.

Oh, sure, they CLAIM to appreciate it. But not really. Especially when the purveyor of said cleverness is drunk off his gourd. I think itís an ego thing; after umpteen millennia of being trapped inside the ancient equivalent of a Bic lighter, theyíre a mite resentful towards the human race as a whole. And with resentment comes a feeling of superiority. Which makes no sense, Ďcuz hey: youíre in the magic jar and Iím not, but itís a very human reaction.

Maybe he was just pissed at me and Marv drinking Everclear out of his vessel; I dunno.

Marv was the one that came up with the wishes, though; said Derek told him about it after reading the Monkeyís Paw. Smart kid, I guess, in a nerdy ďI can bend these rules until they breakĒ sort of way. Done it my way, Iíd probably have just wished for winning lottery numbers, or something. Now, thanks to that little perv, our night of drunken debauchery resulted in the complete destruction of my entire life.

Did I mention that I hate nerds?

Oh, donít look at me like that.

Iím fine with people whoíre smart and like science; take my best friend Marvís as Exhibit A. Keeps talking about going back to school to finish up his PhD in molecular biology, though between you, me, and this bottle of ass-tastic diet Cola, I donít think heís ever gonna do it. Likes banging his wife and cranking out kids too much to ever give THAT up. No, Iím talking about passive-aggressive dorks who donít want to learn social skills, and get themselves beat up because of it.

Like Derek.

You want to know how I got Aís in school? I studied. Hard. Yeah, I didnít take all the really tough classes, but I knew what I could do and I did that as best I could. I got that from Coach, and dammed if it didnít work off the field as it did on. That was Marvís joke back in the day, though: that I was gonna pass him by taking PE and choir, compared to his Honors English and AP Chemistry. He likes science, but he knew how to crack a joke, yíknow?

You know what I told him, the last time he complained about it? ďIf you donít want to be stuffed in a locker, stop being a *&%! and mouthing off to people thatíll do things like that to ya.Ē Harsh? You donít know Derek. If heís so smart, he should be able to figure out how not to be a social reject. Jeez, Marv and Juliaíve bent over backwards to get him into advanced programs and special schools. Heís not abused. Heís not ignored. Heís just a pretentious BS artist whoís got his parents worried heís going to climb a bell tower one of these days.

Heís not even a real nutjob Ė I can see one of those guys, and he ainít it. Some of the bozos back in the day would have been diagnosed with Aspergerís nowadays, and it wouldnít have been wrong Ė they actually had brain issues, though we didnít have a name for it back then. Course, being high school kids, we didnít know what to do about it; we just knew they couldnít figure some stuff out. Yeah, weíd josh around with Ďem a bit, but never too much. Derek, ignoring what his dad says, ainít that. Iíve seen the eyes; theyíre too sharp for someone who doesnít know whatís going on. His sisters know, too; heís got them in trouble too many times not to have his parents figured out.

Well, so I wasnít welcome back at la Casa de Selone after that. Diane and Stacy got a kick out of it, though. I could see them giggling behind the door. Still, it took me a ways to get Marv to come drinking with me again; even still, I think heís projecting a bit more than usual. His kid ainít him, and heís not his dad. Really, has he ever slapped Derek, other than that one time? (And you know how long it took me to get him over THAT one? It was an ACCIDENT. Even the cops said so. But no, Marv had to freak out and go on a bender.)

But anyway Ė three months of groveling, and I finally get my friend back; had to go antiquing with the honey and find some piece oí crap Arabian lamp as an ďIím sorry for being a dumb moron and telling you the truth about your asshat of a sonĒ peace offering. And that's when I learned not to make wishes thought up by pretentious teenaged passive-aggressive BS artists against a djinn whoís already pissed you were drinking out of his lamp. Theyíll just mess you up. Which brings us to the present.

They (whoever Ďtheyí are) say that one of the most common complaints teenagers have is that no one listens to them. I can confirm that one. Of course, Iíve got a jinni whacking everyone I talk to with a mystical Stupid Stick, so maybe itís not the best comparison.

No, really. Try telling Social Services that youíre not who the paperwork says you are. Cynical jokes about government employees aside, most of them try to do their jobs. Most would actually look into the evidence presented, if only in the ďwow, why does this kid know the bank account numbers of a deceased 43-year old accountant from Ohio?Ē sense.

Youíd think that most police officers would probably try to find out why a 16-year old kid was sitting in the burning wreckage of a house, holding a dead woman old enough to be his mom in her arms, crying his eyes out. Nah, he must be some random passerby, right? Probably a runaway or something, looting the house. Good thing we caught him!

Or the Child Welfare Services worker that got assigned my case. Yeah, must be a runaway. Ignore those nice clothes that heís wearing, or the shell-shocked look, or all those people heís telling you to contact, or all those things heís telling you about Laura. Heís making it up. All kids make stuff up when theyíre in trouble, right?

Or the court-ordered psychologist, who took one look at me, nodded his head, and signed the paperwork that said Ďheís just a disturbed runaway; give him some medication, and shove him out the door.Ē Do you know how hard it is to regurgitate anti-psychotic medication on a regular basis? Well, actually, itís pretty easy, given sufficient motivation.

At this point, I really canít tell if itís mind control, or if the magic is putting just the right people in my life to make a complete SNAFU of the entire situation. Iím actually hoping for the 2nd one, actually; otherwise, perfectly ordinary civil servants are getting mind-raped into doing the jinniís dirty work. But after two weeks of being in the tender mercies of The System, here I am.

Foster Care.

Yeah, I know what youíre thinking. Most of those horror stories you hear about adoption Ė doing it just for the check, abandoning the kid and lying to the Social Services contact - are just that: stories. Laura and I looked into it, after the second miscarriage. Lemme tell you, we got out of that idea fast. Being a foster parent ainít for the weak, and you donít do it for the money. Most of the kids in the system arenít what you call low-maintenance. The beautiful geniuses whose parents die in car accidents get taken in by neighbors or relatives. No, the rest are broken: systematically neglected and abused their entire lives. Most of them have a genetic predisposition towards addictive behavior and insanity, and as a result have the social skills and coping mechanisms of a wild hyena.

There is no magic cure for this: no hug in the night and cookies before bedtime will cure three years of being raped by your momís pusher/pimp/boyfriend. If you can get them young, they have a chance: the neural pathways that control behavior can be redirected, their behaviors altered. Yeah, they probably wonít be the brightest bulbs in the candelabra, but at least they arenít psychotic whack-jobs, like their parents were. But anyone older than twelve? Their behaviors have already been set Ė unless they can claw their way out of that black hole, theyíre doomed to another generation of abuse, neglect, and addiction.

So this is a long way of me saying that my soon-to-be foster family is one of three things: complete saints who are going into this eyes-open, who know the score and are STILL willing to take a 16-year old in, sight-unseen; theyíre utter novices with their heart in the right place but who have no clue; or theyíre the aforementioned horror story, taking kids in only for the Social Services check. And to be honest, that last one is extremely unlikely; according to Becky (sorry, Ms. Bennet Ė sheís young enough to be my eldest.), theyíre actually fairly well-off. Iím hoping for ďnice but cluelessĒ, actually. My actual theory is another unconscious compulsion by Iziz. Just another thing Iím putting on my list of ďactions that justify casting the djinn into the Hell of Me %$#!ing You UpĒ. But if theyíre experienced and successful ďfirst line of defenseĒ foster parents? Iím screwed.

Why? Because successful foster parents are hardcases: theyíre strong, firm authority figures who set boundaries and donít let you get away with anything. And if the universe is conspiring to prevent me from actually TELLING anyone what really happened, Iím stuck being a 16-year-old Ďtroubled teení shipped in from out-of-state.


Fear leads to anger, and anger leads to hate. Yeah, Lucas was onto something, but it wasnít just said by a puppet with Frank Ozís hand up its ass.

Itís what happens when someone gets put into The System. Itís how they deal. They come out of a crap-tacular home life, a big portion of which is chaos: you never know how the adults are gonna act. So, youíre pretty much in a state of hyper-aware fight-or-flight. Thatís the fear. And people, even little kids, donít like to feel afraid. And so they get angry at the thing making them afraid. But they canít show their anger, at least not to their parents. So it comes out in other ways; acting up at school, beating up their siblings, whatever. But thatís not enough. Anger leads to hate: hating their parents for doing this, hating the teachers for not getting them out, that kinda stuff.

Now: put Ďem in a stable foster care. Do they get rid of the fear? No. That kind of fear is a survival skill: itís been ingrained since they were born. Nah, what happens is that, now that they donít need to be hide their fear, they can let loose all that anger and hate that they have built up inside. And of course, because they donít know how to cope with their fear and anger, they come across like the hyenas I was talkiní about earlier. Thatís why being a foster parent sucks. You have to deal with all the hate that a 6 year-old son of a welfare single mother drug addict can spit at you. And lemme tell ya: itís a lot.

Why am I saying all this? I mean, Iím not dumb. Before all this started, yeah. Just average. But I had the guts to stick with it, to know myself. Now? Iím a low-rent Reed frickiní Richards. Which, as a consequence, means me aní That &%$! need to analyze the whole deal. Which brings us back to Frank Ozís puppet fetish.

Iím way past anger, and well into the burning hatred stage. Oh, itís not from the foster system or my parents or any of that crap, but no oneís going to be able to tell the difference. I made a wish, and I got my family killed Ė yeah, itís like the original. Power and Responsibility, blah-blah-blah. I know all about coping, or not coping. Thatís what this is all about - the original turned the hate of his big mistake; it ate up at him, but he got it out and did something good with his life.

I donít know if Iím that guy.


*WHACK* "Kid...don't be a %$#!"


I hate geeks.

Yeah, I said so before, but Iíd just like to emphasize the point.

Of particular irritation is the inability to not talk about whatever it is theyíve re-filed their basic social niceties under. Star Trek, video games, football, whatever - funís fun, but Iíd like to talk about something besides your kink, Ďkay?

I bring this up because Iíve got one inside my head.

I donít even know what polyurethane IS, but I know this cup holder is made of it. And Iím really not interested in the process for making tempered glass, but apparently he feels the need to inform me of it.

Weíve gotten close. Iíve named him ďThat %$#!Ē.

Always there, giving me useless information about crap I donít give a damn about. Structural integrity diagrams, Xeno-botany, automotive physics (ok, that one was kinda interesting), statistical patterns in real estate. Anything and everything that I look at, heís there with a useless piece of trivia.

And. He. Will. Not. Shut. The. Hell. Up.


Yeah, yeah yeah. The powers are nice; Buick throwing gives me a hard-on, and I could understudy one of them Cirque du Sol guys. La-de-frickiní-da. The whole danger sense thing is kind of like getting a nail shoved through your scrotum, though. But if that were all, Iíd be ecstatic; go join up with Sanction, or something. Itís the other part thatís the thing. Yeah, I was drunk. Yeah, I got the powers. But I also got the life, OF THE WRONG HERO.

I canít get out of it: the adoption, the melodrama, the angst. Sure, the first couple of seasons are going to be a breeze Ė most of the Ďvillainsí are nothing but whiny teenagers with low-level uber powers. That I could handle - I'm not even vulnerable to whatever substitutes for kryptonite around here, lame-ass excuse of a plot device to create tension that it was. But I've got three words for you that should send both you and me cryin' to momma:

General Frickin' Zod.

Or else his magical thematic analog. Or whatever Iziz dreams up for it. To say nothing of whatís going to happen to my personal life. I was married for 25 years, fer Godís sake. Now Iím supposed to moon over my self-absorbed neighbor and ultimately shack up with an abusive shrew of a reporter whoís young enough to be my daughter? Nuh-uh.

Have I mentioned that my life sucks?


What I look like? I look like a geek on bovine growth hormones, is what I look like. Six foot something, lanky, no fat anywhere that ain't muscle that I can tell. Trenchcoat, jeans, the works. The kid I see in the mirror everyday looks like he's a half-cappuccino away from pulling a Columbine. And it's not like I can get laid to deal with it, either.