Avatar of Rock

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Powers

Superhuman Strength (Class 3); Superhuman Durability (Class 2); Sonic Attack; Electric Attack; Dynamo; Electrical Absorb; Sonic Immune; Energy Resistant; Regeneration (Class 1); Energy Attenuation; Flight; Superhuman Hearing (Class 3)

Weaknesses

Stamina Special: Feedback possesses a finite energy store and every exertion uses some of this store. It regenerates at a constant rate while he is active and at an accelerated rate if he rests. When it runs low (10% of maximum) Feedback loses 60% of his total capacity and when it runs out, he ceases to be.

Psychological Instability; Dark Past; Hunted; Inhuman; Divided Psyche; Secret Identity; Amnesia

Known Affiliations:

• Various supers, notably DoubleShot and Outburst
• ShadowCorp (former)
• Federal Super-crime task force (former)
• Steel Angels Motorcycle Club
• Thundersoul rock band

Origin

Joel Kramer, talented musician and failing college student, was jamming solo in his parent's garage when he died.

An arc of energy, as blue as the clear, endless sky, fell from the heavens and struck the old-fashioned arial antenna that came with the house and that the Kramers had never seen fit to remove. The alien energy, desperately in need of a host, raced through the wiring, closing on the largest electromagnetic signature in the vicinity. It incorrectly assumed that the energy it felt would be that of a lifeform because Earth was supposed to be an undeveloped world and mankind scarecly more than apes bearing rocks and sticks. Something was wrong, and now, after so long a journey, it needed a host or all its careful planning and its beautifully executed escape would have been in vain. In its carelessness and haste it had damaged the gas lines and, even as it found that the large force it had been seeking was being generated by something artificial, the house was filling with gas.

Joel was unaware of all this. He stood in front of the speaker bank it had taken him half his young life to collect but he wasn't really there. He was gone, way out in the ether while his soul swam with angels and kissed the lips of forgotten suns. He was in that place where his music came from and where it was sometimes capable of transporting others. He didn't notice the glow beginning to emanate from the bank behind him, nor did he feel the electric charge in the air. He layed into his axe and it gave itself up in his hands like a horny co-ed and he smiled and sweated and fell to his knees while stamping angelic choruses in steel.

Were another instant, less than a second, to pass without having found a host on this world, perhaps nothing that came of this fateful moment would have transpired. But of course, energy racing up the lead, out of the pickups, and into Joel's frail flesh, a host had been found.

Torn back to reality, Joel simultaneously became aware of several very important and worrying sensations: He could see that the air all around him was glowing an intense blue; he could smell gas and it was in no small concentration; he could feel electricity lighting up his nervous system as something ancient and inhuman thrust itself into his body. He tried to pull his hands away from his guitar, screaming as his fused flesh gave up its hold on the strings. Exposed to the explosive air, the spark that crossed the gap between man and musical instrument ignited. The Kramer house spread itself across the neighborhood with a thundering boom!

Joel's remains, scarcely more than a charred skeleton, were interred the following day. The heavy gray clouds that wept upon the ceremony seemed not only fitting, but somehow right. Joel's parents and younger sister laid him to rest beneath a stone axe much like the one he'd played in life.

Nothing, however, remains buried forever.

Late in the night, when finally the storm that had been threatening all day broke loose, something strange took place beneath the freshly laid sod. Alien energy, blue lightning, reshaped the corpse, its casket, and the granite tomb in which both lay into something the likes of which Earth had never seen. It burst from the grave like a revenant, screaming at the blazing sky with a voice that was heard for miles and chilled the superstitious to the bone.

The creature ran off into the night. By the death of an artist, a hero is born.

The Kramer family never discovered who desecrated Joel's grave, or why. The official explanations of the accident that caused his death never seemed to quite illustrate the whole story. There was something missing, some vital clue that had been overlooked. Somebody was responsible. Somebody had to pay. For some the search for Truth never ends.

Portrait

Feedback is an easy guy to describe but a hard guy to label. He's a big, blue behemoth. He's a rock 'n' roll superhero. An electrical paragon of physical might. He shouts and brings down the house! And, he can play. He can make that axe scream like an angel in ecstasy. He is the grim-faced demigod that vanquishes evil with the power of ROCK. Blue hair and a silver skull for a face, standing over six and a half feet in height and half that wide, the dude stands out in a crowd.

His behavior sometimes verges on the criminally insane. He is quick to anger, carries long grudges and seeks out violent confrontations. He seems to suffer from a kind of fractured personality, and is prone to wild mood swings, impulsiveness, and self-destructive actions. Still, he is fiercely loyal, doggedly determined, and unfailingly courageous.

Feedback protects what he remembers of his past jealously. While rarely short on companions, he has few true allies and fewer close friends. He now knows who he once was and realizes just how dangerous that information is to his family. His younger sister, Sarah, has come close to putting it all together in the past and he dreads the day she comes to realization of the truth. With the aid of DoubleShot's espionage training, he has done a very good job at cutting ties to his past.

Now an enemy of the state, Feedback tries to lay low as much as possible. His primary dwelling is an underground bunker that shields his energy signature. While he fears no enemy and generally considers himself to be indestructable, he also realizes the heavy cost of battle to innocent bystanders and just how easy he is to track by satellite. Lately, however, having spent massive resources and losing just as much face on failed capture attempts, the FSCD no longer attempts direct confrontation with Feedback. Still, thumbing one's nose at the most powerful government on Earth is just asking for trouble.

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