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From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe

"Wanna see a trick? Abracadabra! You're a victim!"
Ersatz Evil
Player: @Gimlet
Origin:	Mutant
Archetype:	Corruptor
Threat Level:	25
Personal Data
Real Name:	Ivy.
Known Aliases:	"Carly Cash", "The Chernobyl Snowball", "The Timid Turncoat", "The Mack","Gunsel Girl"
Species:	Human (Crey Clone)
Age:	22
Height:	5'10''
Weight:	120 lbs
Eye Color:	Neon Green
Hair Color:	None (fond of red wigs)
Biographical Data
Nationality:	American
Occupation:	Student/Hired Goon
Place of Birth:	Brickstown (Crey Labs)
Base of Operations:	Cap Au Diable
Marital Status:	Classified
Known Relatives:	None Living
Known Powers
Mutagenic Radiation Generation, Flight, Advanced Metabolic Conditioning
Known Abilities
Amateur safecracker, advanced muscleclature control, superhuman balance
Equipment
One damn fine Bowler Hat, the occasional stolen weapon or prototype.
No additional information available.

((The following is a work in progress. It will get better. I promise.))

Psychiatric Transcript

Initial Interview; all statements verbatim; phoenetics and onomatopeia where appropriate. Italics in transcript indicate interviewer voice.

Interviewer: Doctor Sinclair Naptiq, PhD, Supercriminal Psychiatry.

Patient #07303, 'Ivy', alias 'Ersatz Evil', alias 'Carly Cash', alias 'Chernobyl Snowball'.

-Begin Tape-

Doctor Sinclair Naptiq: Ivy, come in. Glad to see you found my office. You sounded hesitant over the phone.

Patient #07303, 'Ivy': Yeah, well, y'can'ta been here too long. Last week, I was clearin' th'Goldbrickers outta this buildin'.

Ah, yes, well, you know how real estate turnover is.

Not really.

It's not important. So, Ivy, why have you come to my office today?

Well, y'know...it's complicated. S'not like I wanted to, but, Th'Boss keeps tellin' me she's worried 'bout th'memory loss an' the mental deg...dega...

Degradation?

I'da got it eventually.

I'm sure you would have. However, our time here is scant, and we have a lot to cover. I hope you don't mind my recording our session; I do so for all my patients.

Sure.

Excellent. Let's begin.

'Kay. Howsat work?

How does what work?

Beginnin'.

Oh. Well, I offer an unorthadox approach to psychiatric aid. I won't say a word. I want you to tell me, as far back as you can remember, everything relevant or important to you since your arrival on the Rogue Isles. Omit no detail. As you speak, I will record your words, transcribe them, and use my uncanny and amazing abilities of psychoempathic analysis to gauge your problem areas before our next visit.

Oh. So, just...talk? About myself?

Please. Let's begin.

[edit] Background

[edit] Reconstituted Mutant

The first things I remember are the Tubes. Oh, sure, I got bits and pieces of other stuff - for instance, I'd like to say that my name is Carly Cash, and that I'm a Paragon City Superhero called 'Track Girl', operating under deep-cover here on the Isles, to bring down Arachnos from the inside - but, that's all hazy and garbled and, frankly, I ain't so sure it's accurate anymore. The first real, clear memory I have is of the Tubes. Crey Corporation Mutagenic Enhancement Devices, they call 'em, but, they look like fancied-up Portapotties with blinkin' lights all over 'em. Real Sci-Fi Hypertech crap, way over my head. I remember guys in lab coats and visors, pokin' and proddin' me with needles and sticks and shit. I remember red flashin' lights, and I remember the sound of helicopter blades and warnin' sirens.

Now, I say that's the first thing I remember, but, you gotta understand, that's pretty dicey itself. I got no clue what I was doin' in the Crey labs, or why things go all black and muffled, or what the deal with the sirens and the chopper was. I DO remember The Zig, though. I remember wakin' up and pacin' my cell. I remember the mutagenic suppression injections (every morning, with breakfast, if you can call cold oatmeal 'breakfast'), the fights in the yard, the screamin' and cryin' at night. I remember when some stupid-ass Cabal broad shocked my ass in the showers and I got a nasty gash from the showerheads when I jumped. I remember wipin' blood outta my eyes while she's babblin' on about Earth Mother this and Ministry that, and right about the time she gets to the part where she's talkin' about 'sharing our flesh in this great cement womb' or some shit, I catch onto what's comin' and bust my heels into her kneecaps. I remember that witches bleed red, same as anybody else. I remember the fuck out of the Zig, and I'm not too fond of doin' so.

I came to the Rogue Isles when Arachnos decided to organize some kinda jailbreak. Dortz, from C-23, got me the keys to the medicine cabinet, and I got my mojo back real quick once I shot myself full'a that green crap they used to find on the Trolls all the time. Took a few minutes to get my bearings, of course, but, the next thing I know, I'm landin' on Mercy Island, hookin' up with Burke, the Merc - Ha, I just got that! - runnin' odd jobs tryin' to make a buck. Problem is, the money's not comin' fast enough, I got no soft place to land at night, and, frankly, I'm startin' to smell kinda ripe. I mean, all I had on me was a quick getup made outta what I could find in the Zig before the breakout (you'd be amazed how easy it is to find a pair of leather pants in a supervillian prison) and a couple bucks. So, I start hittin' this bank in Mercy, over'n over again, movin' in and out with different groups of likewise-fucked street Baddies, bustin' the vault open, levellin' the guards, tryin' to get my street cred up, right? Except, the pickings keep getting slimmer and slimmer, and I'm still goin' broke, only now I'm goin' broke from hospital bills (when shit went sideways), bribes (to keep my Rep up with those broads in the funny hats) and the juice I've been shootin' myself fulla, which I find out later is called Superadine. It's not pretty, but, it's keepin' me alive.

It's right about the time I hop the Ferry to Port Oakes for the first time that things seem to start lookin' up. I run up with Drea the Hook (never did figure out why he's called that; guy's got both hands), start workin' the streets, and lo and behold, it pays off. Bigtime. Now, I'm not doin' so bad, but I'm still bleedin' money out both ends for my 'Dine fix, and my powers are startin' to get a little out of control. Lost my crashpad when I accidentally blew a hole in the roof wakin' up from a particularly bad dream, wound up sleepin' in a dumpster, rollin' those ugly-ass Snakes for chump change. That's when Drea gets a real kicker of a job for me: Hit Paragon City, bust the bank wide open, make off with some cash. Sweet. Only I don't just find cash; I find some Skulls with a big-ass shipment of the Green Stuff movin' through a warehouse. A couple dozen heaps of ex-Skull radioactive waste later, and I'm the proud owner of a crate of Superadine, uncut and unmarked.

And nobody's fuckin' buying.

And the fuckin' Family wants my new stash.

And I can't work this fuckin' rocketpack thing I ripped offa the P.P.D., because I'm trippin' balls all day long on the 'Dine.

So, I go cold turkey. Right off the stuff. Turns out, that's what's screwin' my superpowers over, that's what's burnin' off all my spare bread, and that's what's wreckin' my life. I run up on Drea, ask him where I can ditch the crap before I get weak and shoot the whole crate, and he points me to that nightclub, Pocket D. I'm waitin' by the bar downstairs, hawkin' the crap vial by vial and tab by tab, when some full-of-herself bitch Skull walks up on me, gets all indignant. Starts talkin' about puttin' me in a particleboard box and droppin' me in Lost territory, buck-ass naked. I figure, fuck it, nothin's worth this much trouble, and give her the key to the locker I got the 'Dine in. Bitch don't even thank me. Way I see it now, I'm proper screwed, so I figure I'll head upstairs on the Blue side'a things, get good and tanked, rip off my Hospital recall device and pick a fight with the biggest, meanest sum'bitch Cape I can find. You know, just bleed out in the Arena, no fuss, no muss.

That's when I met Her, and things started lookin' up for real.

Her?

Yeah, Her. The Boss.

What's her name, Ivy?

Her name? Fuck You, that's her name. We done here?

No, no, please. Keep going.

Mind if I smoke? This next part's a little heavy.

I'd really prefer---

Just bein' polite, Doc.

-sound of a lighter igniting, as well as faint coughing, presumably from Doctor Sinclair-

[edit] Sigma Iota Nu: Better Than You!

Where was I? Right, The Boss. So, I'm drinkin' myself stupid in the D, tryin' to find the biggest, baddest Cape I can to pound me into putty, when I catch eyes with this lady at the end of the bar. Lady's kind of a weak term; 'goddess' sounds better, but, s'not like I'm one'a them freaky Stheno-worshippin' snakes. She just...pops out, all wearin' red like she invented the color and starin' at me in that kinda way a shark stares at a bleedin' diver: half pity, half hungry. I'm fumblin' for my ID for the billionth fuckin' time when she picks up my tab, and pulls me aside, and starts askin' about me like she knows me. Asks what I'm 'doing over here' and I don't know what's goin' on, but she sounds so good I start makin' shit up, anything that springs to mind. I'm a Hero, I'm undercover, don't tell nobody, please, please, I need a place to hide, they're onto me, please. She knows I'm fulla shit, I can tell, but she don't call me on it, she just buys me another drink and takes me back to this Sorority house on campus at Aeon, in Cap Au Diable. She lets me grab a shower, and we talk for a little while, and she lets me sleep off the drunk in her bed---

Did anything else happen?

What?

With this woman. The Boss. You said she let you sleep in her bed. Did anything else happen?

I woulda toldja if it did, Doc. You wanna hear this, or you wanna keep gettin' your rocks off on shit you make up?

I'm sorry. Carry on.

Shit, now I lost my place again. Right. So, she lets me sleep off the booze, and she gives me this credit card, tells me to head down to the Tailor, pick up some new clothes, because she's takin' care'a me now, and I gotta look good. I figure, fuck, this place is sweet enough, and she's just...amazin' to be around...intoxicatin', really...so, I drink the Kool-Aid and buy in. The next day, I wake up and I got this stack of papers; fake registration papers, Student Loan papers, a fake birth certificate, the works. Even got a Student ID. Now, I'm Carly Cash - that's the name I gave her, fuck me if it's right or not - The Timid Turncoat. I'm part'a the Sinrority, she tells me, Sigma Iota Nu. Yeah, I know, clever, huh? I like it a lot. I swing by the Facemaker, and the ugly bitch tells me she can't help 'the mess I am' if she had a week, so, she cleans me up a little, points me to this bargain bin full of Halloween clothes, and I root out this fine ensemble you see before ya right now. Well, sorta. I had to keep up the thing about bein' a Hero, so, I picked up this Ninja lookin' mask. Lemme tell you, it really fucks the whole 'Cabaret Showgirl' look to have half your face covered up. Glad that part's over. I'm gettin' ahead'a myself, though.

Right. So, now I'm in this Sorority, only it's not really a Sorority, it's like Crime-for-Dummies school. The Boss takes me on all these jobs, bustin' open safes, mowin' down people who talk trash about us, the works, and as we're goin' on with this stuff, I'm learning. Fast. Like, real fast. I'm learnin' how to focus the Rads I'm throwin' around, and how to keep my shit together when a scenario goes all sideways, and how to watch my partner's back - she brings along this other girl, but, I'll tell ya more about her later; she gets her own big-ass ramblin' monologue, too, she deserves it - and all the while, I'm just lovin' it. Still, I start feelin' a little weird. At first, I think it's just DT's from the 'Dine, but, that ain't it at all. I'm gettin' sick. I'm throwin' up when nobody's around, my hair's fallin' out, my skin's gettin' pale and clammy...I end up lookin' like one'a them sewage-suckers, The Blighted? Right. I'm fadin', so, the Boss sends me to the in-house medic, this creepy Nazi broad with a thing for sharp stuff.

She runs some tests, and she's all, "Zis is all perfektly normal, chu are movink along nizely, you vill experienze some changez, eet iz part of ze prograhm, do not vorry." Sorry, my German impression sucks. I head back to The Boss, and she's all worried, and I'm all worried, but I don't say anythin' because I'm lovin' bein' there too much to spend, like, a month in a hospital bed with a catheter shoved up me and electrodes all over.

You intentionally avoided medical treatment to be with these people? That's not healthy, Ivy.

No shit? Gee, thanks, I didn't figure that out when my fuckin' fingernails fell off.

If you knew it wasn't safe or healthy, why did you do it?

Look, you don't understand, and you ain't gonna understand. You know what it's like bein' a woman on the Isles without anyone lookin' out for you? It's fuckin' scary, is what it is. With The Boss and her girls - and I was one'a The Boss' girls now - I had safety. I had numbers. Plus, t'be completely honest, at first, I was just fakin' along with the whole 'Sister of the Sorority' thing to keep warm. After a while, though, honest to Gawd, I started likin' it. I started likin' bein' part of the fray, and talkin' dirty with the receptionist over the Comm unit, and listenin' to The Boss talk about her magic stuff, and watchin' the Head Girl beat the shit outta stuff with a pipe wrench while I nuked 'em from across the room. I even started to like the spandex ridin' up my ass every day, and the saltwater that blasted my legs through my fishnets, 'cause it meant I was wearin' my work clothes, and that meant I was workin' for The Boss.

That sounds an awful lot like a cult, Ivy.

I toldja y'wouldn't get it. I'ma keep goin' now, and I'ma pretend I didn't just hear you call my Sisters a fuckin' cult.

Please do.

[edit] Sick Days

Anyway, I was sick. Real sick, but, I wasn't lettin' on how sick I was. The Boss, she knew right away - The Boss knows everythin', to be honest - and while she's lookin' for a cure or a fix or somethin', I'm hangin' out more'n more with the other girls. Especially the Head Girl. We're hittin' it off somethin' wonderful, an' I'm makin' money, and I'm kinda feelin' a little better every day, and I'm all up in the whole 'crime spree' life, even though my body's goin' apewire on me. Then, things got weird. See, I hadn't noticed, but, I guess I was losin' pigment, little by little. I figure it coulda been happenin' for weeks, but, I wouldn'ta noticed, on accounta the fact that I was forgettin' stuff, too. Stuff from 'before', I guess, or lies I told, or somethin', I'm still not real sure. It's all kinda hazy. I said that, right? Yeah, I did.

So, one night, I crash out at the Sorority, an' when I wake up, wham. Sheet white. I figure, maybe somethin' happened, maybe someone I pissed off snuck into th'room and nicked that big-ass vein y'got in your leg, and I was wakin' up just in time t'die or somethin'. Only, I ain't bleedin', I'm just pale. Real pale. Like, 'albino monkey cum' pale. So, I'm lookin' in the mirror while I get prepped, and I figure, hell, this really ain't so bad. In fact, this ain't bad at all. It feels better. Natural. Like I'm s'posed to look this way. Plus, all I'm hearin' from the Sisters is how my 'new look' is all exotic and weird, so, I figure, fuck it, no point in fightin' it. I slap some Kohl on my eyes, an' I go out to do some work with the Boss' second-in-command.

She wasn't letting you work with her personally anymore?

What the hell happened to you not sayin' a word? I may be losin' my mind, but I ain't so far gone I can't remember shit happened half an hour ago.

Apologies. Please---

Continue, right.

Like I was sayin', I was gettin' all geared up to go rough up stuff with the Head Girl when I get this call from the Boss - see, Freud? You let me finish a sentence, maybe I answer your questions for ya - about this reporter, Nellie Fine, runnin' some smear article on her. Yeah, now you know who I'm talkin' about, and maybe now you just keep your mouth shut while I talk. Anyway, this stupid Newsie bitch is makin' up stuff about The Boss, and the House, and the Sisters, and she's furious, and I'm pissed because she's pissed, so, we go track 'er down, and we bring 'er back to the house, and---well, stuff get a little gruesome after that, but, the point is, she didn't hafta tell me t'do anythin' this time. I just took care of it, on my own. That's when I start thinkin', maybe I was meant t'do this stuff. That's where the name came from.

Ersatz. Y'know what that means? Means 'artificial'. Fake. Replacement. You ever see that flick with the British secret agent with th'bad teeth? Remember that line the Big Bad gives his kid? 'You're the Diet Coke of Evil. Just one Calorie, not evil enough'. That's what I do. S'what I am. True Evil, real evil, is tryin' ta take over th'world, or blowin' up Hospitals just because y'can, or launchin' Nukes at Tokyo because y'don't like the old Godzilla flicks. Evil's big, and cruel, and has big, cruel plans. I ain't that. I'm a mook, a grunt, a goon. I do th'work because I love doin' it, but, more'n that, I'm good at what I do.

Some people might argue that what was done to Miss Fine is evil, Ivy.

Would any'a those people be in this room?

From an objective standpoint---

Wha?

Objective. It means...nevermind. Keep going.

[edit] If found, return to...

Once I figured this bit about me out, I started gettin' real comfortable with stuff. I started workin' with the Head Girl a lot more, since The Boss was busy with the rest'a the Sorority. One day, she'n I were out on this job, right, and we started, uh...talkin'. Personal stuff. Real personal stuff. Anyway, we're talkin' and we're laughin' and then...well, I don't gotta fill in the blanks for ya. Point is, there was somethin' there, somethin' I didn't see before, somethin' important and big and heavy and wet and---

...uh, movin' on...

So, we had this big talk about what th'Soroity's all about, an' we ran through a couple real quick jobs, an' all I'm thinkin' is how much I can't stop thinkin' about this girl, right? She's strong as a wreckin' ball, an' she's fast, but she's real small and real, real good lookin', right? Anyway, we hunker down outside this old truck I'm s'posed to be takin' to do this gig for some Russian sea captain weirdo - nice enough guy, stares at my ass too much, but, s'not like I got much goin' on upstairs, so, hey, it's a compliment - and I get stupid and blurt out how much I think she's the best thing ever, and how I wish Sigma wasn't so free and loose with keepin' things free an' loose, or I'd be all over her like white on, well, me. An' you know what she does?

She smiles, an' she says she'll take care'a me, if I let her, an' damn it, Doc, how'm I gonna say 'no' to that?

You keep using this phrase, 'take care of'. What does that imply?

...what?

What does that phrase mean?

Well, y'know, like---wait. I see what's goin' on here. You're doin' this shit on purpose because you don't get it, an' it's all weird and new t'you, so you gotta break it down. You ain't s'posed'a get it, Doc. You ain't gonna, and you ain't s'poseda, because it ain't you. I don't want the suburban crap. If I did, I'd pack up an' move to Paragon and hunker down in one'a those new apartments in Faultline. I'd get a Joe-job and use insta-tan and just...stop bein' me. That's not enough. That's not how I want it.

Do you even know what it is you want, Ivy?

Yeah. Yeah, I do.

Please, enlighten me.

Fine. You know what I want outta this? I want someone I can look up to. I want someone's gonna help me out whenever I get in trouble, an' someone who can count on me t'do the same. I don't need to be loved, I need to be needed, an' I need to need someone else. That make sense to you, Doc?

You may be surprised to know that it does. Come on, keep going. This is exactly what I need to hear---

-sound of coughing-

You okay, Doc? You're lookin' kinda peaked.

Yes, I'm fine, just...must be getting a cold. Is it too warm in here?

I'm good.

Excellent. Continue, if you would.

[edit] Brand New Bag

Now that I got this thing going with the Head Girl - I'm just gonna call her that from now on, 'cause I'm not tellin' you her real name, an' I'm sure as hell not tellin' you anything else about her; I don't like t'brag, an' nothin' I can say about her won't come off as braggin' - I start settlin' into stuff a little more. I start gettin' chattier with the other girls, I start gettin' more comfortable around The Boss, I start openin' up. But, I still don't feel right. I don't feel like I fit in proper; s'not a square peg-round hole thing, but it ain't as snug a fit as I like. So, I start talkin' to Head Girl about it, an' she tells me my biggest problem is that I'm tryin' to be someone I'm not, that I'm not openin' up -right-. She tells me, I gotta ditch the old stuff and move onto the new stuff, and, truth be told, I don't disagree. So, we head up to the top of the big-ass Hell Forge tanker tower, an' I bring along all my faked paperwork, and we torch it. All of it. I get the House receptionist to punch me up new stuff, an' I let her pick my new name, since she's the one kicked this whole thing off. That's where Ivy came from.

You let somebody else decide what your name is?

Doesn't everybody? How many babies you know name themselves?

That's not what I mean---

-Sound of coughing, more violently than before-

Doc, you sound awful. Just let me finish. I'm almost done here, and you don't sound like you oughta be talkin' anyway.

[edit] Ocular Wool Removal 101

No problem. So, like I said, now I got prettymuch everythin' I think a girl could want, right? I got friends - more like a family, really - I got someone takin' care of me, I'm on top'a the world. Except, I'm still losin' stuff, upstairs, y'know? I can't focus in on anythin' older than the Zig; it's all like lookin' at a scrapbook with flood damage. I can tell where th'photos are s'posed to go, but the captions are all faded and I got no clue what goes where. So, I start thinkin', this ain't brain damage, it's guilt. I still feel like a heel for gettin' into the club without fillin' my application out right, if y'know what I mean, and it's throwin' up roadblocks in my brain. I bum around with the girls for a few days, I meet up with some new folks The Boss is workin' on an alliance with, an' I start seein' how much it's gonna hurt me and the people around me if I don't come clean.

So, I do.

I sit down with The Boss and Head Girl, and I lay out everything. How I bullshitted my way in, how much I like it here now, how bad I don't wanna leave, the works. I'm sittin' there, waitin' for the axe to fall, when The Boss starts smilin' and tellin' me how much I'm not goin' anywhere an' how who I was ain't me no more, and Head Girl agrees - considerin' she was personal witness to the whole thing, I figure, she knows it better than anyone else - an' then they drop the big bombshell, and stuff starts makin' sense.

Turns out, I'm a clone. Crey built me in a lab, stole my DNA from some prissy Superheroine named - yeah, you guessed it - Track Girl. The Boss knows it, the Doc knew it, Head Girl knows it, an' they been waitin' for me to actually ask about it before they come clean with it. The reason I knew about The Boss? Programmed DNA. I was supposed to be some kinda infiltration unit. Considering how The Boss takes in lost girl an' trains 'em, they figured I'd get in easy.

But, you knew that already, didncha, Doc?

How, precisely, would I kn---

-Coughing, followed by a sharp wheezing-

---excuse me. How would I know that, Ivy?

Because shrinks don't rent their offices by the hour. Shrinks don't drop off business cards randomly with cute receptionists and, more'n anything, shrinks don't work for The Crey.

I beg your pardon?!

C'mon, Doc. Sinclair Naptiq? That's th'best you could come up with?

I don't have a clue what---

-Coughing, violent hacking and wheezing, followed by a quiet gasp-

Good lord, I'm bleeding. We might---

-Coughing-

---might want to---

-Coughing, wheezing-

---God, what's happening here---

-Extremely violent coughing, followed by the sound of a high-pitched whine and a constant, rapid clicking noise-

Save it. You think I don't read the Arachnos briefings? You're Doc Synaptik. You read minds. I know it. More importantly, The Boss knows it. S'why I had her sketch this little symbol on th'back of my neck, to block 'em off. It don't last much more'n an hour, but, hey, you pay by the hour for this place, so, it didn't need to.

---I assure you, young lady---

-Loud, violent, wet coughing, followed by gagging, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, presumably Doctor Sinclair's chair. The clicking in the background grows louder here-

Here, Doc. Brought this for ya.

...what---

Save your breath. It's a Geiger Counter. Bought it for ten bucks at the pawn shop. Screen's cracked, but you can make out the little needle, right? See how it's hoverin' in the red, there? That's traditionally not so good for those've us who don't have naturally occuring nuclear isotopes in their blood.

Which you don't, do ya, Doc?

It's kind've a shame you couldn't hear what I was thinkin', cause, this whole time, I been thinkin' of just how funny it is that while you've been sittin' there playin' Sigmund Fraud, I been breathin' radioactive vapor right in your face. You got my file, right?. You know I don't smoke. You just couldn't get over your own ego long enough t'think about it for a second, couldja?

Y'know, I'm glad The Boss sent me here anyway. Felt good to get all that out in the open. What do I owe you, Doc?

Doc?

Huh. Guess the first session's free.

-End of Tape-

[edit] Abilities and Skills

[edit] Superpowers

• Being a mutant, The Ersatz Evil's powers are naturally occuring and ingrained in her DNA. However, considering that the original DNA had been modified via Crey gene-engineering, her superpowers tend to manifest both conciously and unconciously. The most noticable element of this is a habit of breathing harmless, ozone-smelling radioactive vapor in times of physical or emotional exertion, or developing an unnatural 'green' pallor if her internal radiation goes unspent for an extended period of time.

• Ivy's chief mutation is the generation, expulsion and manipulation of radioactive energy. She has been seen to hurl wide-range blasts of high-rad energy, fire pinpoint-thin beams from her eyes, condense the energy into a semi-solid state and hurl it at enemies, and utilize an ambient field of mutagenic radiation to mend wounds or weaken opponents. In addition, by creating a short, focused 'wave' of superheated air molecules in her wake, The Ersatz Evil can take flight.

• Due to her original purpose as a Crey Infiltration Clone, Ivy's physical prowess surpasses natural boundaries. She can run at top speed for hours without tiring due to a modified biology that utilizes lactic acid as a fuel source, as well as recover from exhaustion and injury rapidly, due to her supercharged mitochondrial cell components. She is, however, not remarkably physically strong, and has been speculated to have weakened cartilidge or poor bone-joint bonds, forcing her to avoid hand-to-hand combat as a matter of survival.

[edit] Skills

• Purely as a hobby-level interest, Ivy has a knack for safecracking and lockpicking.
• Seems to enjoy employing firearms wherever possible, though is not known to own any personally or carry any on her person as a matter of habit.

[edit] Quirks

• Ivy's cellular structure does not require many of the structures that a normal human cellular system does, making her very malleable and weakening her to biological weaponry. Likewise, this leaves her with the unfortunate side effects of being entirely hairless (though she does own a number of wigs and has purchased a special 'fusion-gum' from the Facemaker to hold them in place) and very pale (as her skin cells do not retain melanin).

• As a result of her highly reactive metabolism, Ivy is very subceptible to the effects of mood-and physiologically-altering drugs and medications. She regularly employs over-the-counter medication to bolster her physical prowess in combat, and is highly likely to become addicted to 'street drugs', such as Superadine or Rage.

• Due to her rapid metabolism, Ivy tends to drink to excess, as it's a lot harder to maintain a steady buzz when your body's burning off the liquor for fuel.

[edit] Out of Character Info

The Ersatz Evil was originally meant to be a secondary personality of one of my Heroes, serving as a method to 'play both sides' of the City of Heroes/Villains universe. However, as the character evolved and interacted with others, it became harder and harder to maintain a suspension of disbelief, and began to feel kind of silly all over. Once I was invited to participate in the Sigma Iota Nu Villain Group, I completely fleshed Ivy out as her own character, feeling it more appropriate to have her as a Crey clone with butchered memories than a Hero-in-Disguise, which, seriously, just started getting dumb and overly meta-game based, and just wasn't much fun anymore.