Hat Trick

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Hat Trick
Player: @mars_morand
[[Image:|300px|]]
Just because it isn't your war, doesn't mean you're not my problem.
Biographical Data
Real Name: Timothy Lloyd Clark
Known Aliases: David Spade, Hat Trick, Mars(retired)
Gender: Male
Species: Mostly Human
Ethnicity: Canadian (?)
Place of Birth: Not here
Base of Operations: Caprice
Relatives: Large hopes for none
Characteristics
Age: 22; Probably
Height: Irrelevant until full nature of hat disclosed
Weight: Strangely light
Eyes: Hazel, rarely seen
Hair: Black, rarely seen
Complexion: Peachish, rarely seen
Physical Build: Unnaturally thin
Physical Features: Nothing notable on flesh
Status
Fame:
██ ██ ██ ██ ██ ██ ██ ██ ██

Local

Alignment:
LG LN LE
NG TN NE
CG CN CE
Identity: We're under several tons of blackmail to not tell the public
Years Active: Roughly 8
Citizenship: Millennium City Citizen, after a few immigration hiccups
Occupation: The Ace of Spades
Education: Unknown, not promising
Marital Status: I don't even know anymore.
Known Powers and Abilities
The Hat
Equipment and Paraphernalia
Spade goggles, robotic leg, jetpack
Physical Attributes
 
   Strength
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   Weapon
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   Durability
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   Armor
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   Speed
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   Reflexes
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   Resistance
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   Stamina
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   Dexterity
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   Agility
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   Combat
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   Regeneration
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Non-Physical Attributes
 
   Energy
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   Psionics
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   Telepathy
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   Willpower
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   Sorcery
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   Technology
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   Intelligence
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   Knowledge
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   Charisma
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   Bravery
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MaekadaBox created by @Maekada



Biography

Triumphantly declaring himself to all passing citizens and heroes is a silhouette draped in red and staring at you with foglights. He is something beyond words save for the ones he makes up, the 'charismatic stallion' known by the Caprician patrons as 'David', and by all others as Hat Trick. Immature and thematic, yet as powerful as many of the heroes and countless morally ambiguous beings that live in Millennium City. He is known for his habit to grab and pocket anything not bolted down or heavily guarded (though that may not stop him from trying), his thematic actions and speaking voice, and a very odd fashion sense. He parades around Caprice, referring to his interrupting of conversations and eager joy in starting them with random comments as 'crusading', 'patrolling', and 'socializing', the last being a complete exaggeration. What he does isn't just satisfying some sadistic urge to see people squirm, it's literally his job working for The Caprice Spades, to which he holds a high rank. He earned it through sweat, blood, tears and stupid. This has led to him gaining a surprisingly large reputation as a pest, which sadly encouraged his efforts.

While he's always danced across the line between vigilante and serial killer, he's very excited about becoming what he calls a cape (and what we call a vigilante). With his accumulated array of an arsenal, he horribly misuses the great power given to him by taking down Westside scum and Canadian aliens (Gadroons, not immigrants). He's non-lethal, mostly; so long as his victims live through their encounters with him, that's the point where he stops caring. He's developed a fair fan-club in the city, though most find his habit of only helping Westside folk annoying.

When he finally registered as a hero, we got a lead on his supposed true identity: Tim Clark, reporter. Because of course he's a reporter. He doesn't do much without his costume, just feed birds and act as an honorable agent of the press. His agenda in both identities seems to really be to clean up the city. Good luck.

Personality

Mad and manic as 'David Spade', he's a fast talker with a deathwish. Insults rarely break his stride, threats only get him to goad his partner on, and he seems to have an inexhaustible supply of rocks. Course, this is standard Spade Trickster demeanor, he himself is by no means such a lunatic...traditionally.

Timothy is almost a sociopath, but he has enough of a conscience that he makes excuses for himself. He backstabs and betrays to get what he wants, he stops whatever or whoever stands in his way. He's downplayed his tactics in recent times, intent on proving himself a hero, but it's hard to ignore his brutal method even then. If that wasn't enough, he rarely shuts up about his political views; spitefully defacing Millennium City's leaders, police department, and even us despite signing up for this (considers most government laws flawed and broken, but better then anarchy). He despises demons and their supposed 'integration' into society, and Caprice as the pinnacle of this supposed travesty. If confronted, it's recommended you shouldn't make apparent anything appealing, material or otherwise.

Personality Disorders

After Tim was deemed a credible threat, a personality assessment was in order. While he may show up willingly for some visits, he seemingly vanishes off the face of the earth for others. If he does show up, sometimes he'll do nothing but an elaborate joke, steal all evidence of the event afterwords, or find someway to escape mid-session. He seems to enjoy word and picture association, but is often bored, or alternatively nervous, when anything about his past or private life is brought up, and this is usually when the entire building suddenly loses power and he vanishes. Surveillance was also attempted, though since he's mostly in Club Caprice any hidden cameras are quickly knocked down by unusually perceptive patrons.

From what we've gathered, it's clear Tim isn't actually insane. He seems to be a high functioning autistic, and while his schizophrenic moments are fake, he does seem to have developed some kleptomania. Besides that, it's still blurry. New tests will employ psychics.

Powers

Physical Abilities

While initially he had superhuman powers which had something to do with cosmic things he's mostly secretive about, through convoluted time shennanigans he's back to human.

This isn't to say he's not still dedicated to being a living weapon. Grueling training with his Spade brethren has elevated him to an acrobatic marvel of dexterity and a quick draw crack shot. Which is, pathetic, in comparison to most of the patrons he's going toe to toe with, and virtually irrelevant with his god-hat thing, but it is worth noting there's few situations he's not dangerous.

Equipment

Hat wears a high-class suit, a royal red patterned with bright green lining. Aside from that is a pair of goggles, several sizes too large and most likely gold plated, spray paint or some unknown yellow metal. He claims to be blind without it, though it's unknown how anyone could see out of the blinding glow. Also gold(?) is his jetpack, which he claims was on a bargain. He had a plug of sorts welded into his spine, and it was a sloppy job at that. A variety of jetpacks can be attached, and while they've been known to falter, none of them have exploded yet. His gloves produce an infinite supply of ace cards from a generic dollar store deck, and his shoes appear to be confusingly resistant to long drops.

What should be skin on his outfits is only darkness; not a silloute, but gloves and a mask known as 'Magic Asbestos'. Magic Asbestos is still not properly understood due to the lack of testing material. It is, however, not actual asbestos, and it's possibly not even magic. It appears to be fireproof, semi-organic and comes in what we can assume to be a wide variety of colors. It becomes seemingly violent when exposed to cinnamon; how long depending on the quantity of spice. He's quite secretive about where he got a hold of it, but it's been made quite clear that he's producing more to arm his little squad of Spades.

In more recent times, he's taken to placing a large insignia plates on his shoulders, with a green spade. According to him, this is due to his position as the Ace for The Caprice Spades. Along with this, a golden sword by his hip also ties into his position, which makes sense when one considers tarot cards and...yeah, swords, spades. The actual sword is somewhat related to a cosmic being, but we're relatively certain he himself isn't one. And no, he won't let us look at it.

It's been discovered that ever since he returned from what was hoped to have been a permanent banishment, he's been using a robotic left leg, having sacrificed his organic one. It continues his visual theme of gold and steel, probably bound to his hat, and generally works much better then his meager mortal right one. He tends to hide it though, reasons elaborated on in the above "Personality" section.

HAT

The most notable weaponized apparel Hat Trick has is his hat (obviously, it's why he chose the stupid name). At a stretch, one could call it an omnitool, though that would imply coherency. Rumored to be a stolen untested prototype from a small lab in Westside, The Hat is an ever-shifting adaptable mass of mechanics, capable of folding into uncannily compact sizes and shifting it's mass from a toaster to a minigun in 7 seconds flat. It runs off of a mental bond and adjusts to whims and will, it's overall aesthetic and efficiency based on the composure and ideals of the person in question, lasting only as long as they can be strained. So naturally with -this- idiot in charge it's downright Victorian clockwork with all the functions only half thought out and volatile. Best of all, it turns out he has literally no idea how to EMP shield it, or handle the glaring flaw of a mind-connected super-weapon being vulnerable to psychics.

A notable function of the hat is it's pocket dimension, possibly within a pocket dimension that houses an infinite supply of items of all sorts. Hat Trick himself claims to have "Everything but the kitchen sink". This includes a lighthouse, which while has never been fully uncovered, the blinding light and foghorns he can call upon from his headgear would not only indicate he is in possession of one, but a working team to manage it. Generally it's not viable in combat with the amount of focus it takes to sort through 8 years of kleptomania.

He's now able to control it's abilities in a form deemed the "Hatsuit" (we've tried naming it something different but then the coffee machine catches fire). A so called overdrive function, it greatly improves his abilities and reach, a full suit of adaptable mechanics. He's just a mess of can openers and missles with some black tights underneath. As with the previously mentioned power source being his concentration, he can only have it out for no longer then 10 minutes. At this point, the user would descend into nosebleeds and shakes, eventually losing consciousness for a day or two.

Yes, we're trying to make our own. No, it's not working.

History

Origin

It's still unknown the exact date he came to us. It's still superstition on the exact details. But through enough witness accounts when he's feeling retrospective, we have this.

In a parallel world, much quieter then our own, the future Spade was a young lad, not very fit, often sleepy and had an odd hat. His life was rather simple, but he didn't do too well at school, had few friends, and was often thought as a simple weirdo. His tendency to run around the school throwing one liners at jerks (his words) wasn't helping. It was snowing, much more then usual. Not thinking ahead, he thought to cross a wide field instead of taking the roads. Too stubborn to turn back early on, he made his way through. Most of it. Quite soon, his boots completely failed, leaving him barefoot in knee-high snow. Despite still trying to go on, his aforementioned terrible physique got the better of him, and quickly his legs failed him. He was still somewhere in the middle of the field slowly freezing to death. This was starting to look like a bad idea.

From there, it's quite blurry. Right before (or perhaps after) the end, a figure appeared to him as his vision was fading, but he can't remember anything more then that. When he regained consciousness, the first thing he claims to remember was being reassuringly warm, followed by panic as he just ended up in the middle of Renaissance Center's dueling area. Confused and bewildered, he stumbled off to the blimp and collapsed onto a bench.

From here, his stories begin tying in with actual reports. Specifically, break ins at several small homes and shops run by inventors and sorcerers. Security tapes caught a man with a scarf around most of his face and a distinct hat, but sightings began showing up less and less. That didn't mean the crime spree stopped. Breaking and entering, assault and the usual shebang, all within a week. After that, reports died down a little. Many pieces of equipment and materials were stolen, and any research about them that wasn't taken was burned. People generally shrugged this off and assumed the criminal blew himself up, and any investigations were closed to focus on much more pressing matters.

Several months later, some oddball in red walked into Caprice.

Finding Purpose

While he was prepared with every piece of random junk, getaway tactic and general witticism, it seemed that the new club patron had no idea what he was doing. Sure, he mocked people, got right up in their faces - but unlike what he would settle on in the future, flirting was still perfectly fine. If anything, it seemed mocking demons out of the club was just removing competition. He became intertwined with a small time supergroup, acting as a villain named "Mars" out of amusement. He would often randomly kidnap their leader, often lightheartedly. Supervillain or not, his main goal seemed a complete takeover of Millennium City with moderately good but ultimately flawed intentions. Eventually he renounced his criminal ways, though he never gives a straight answer on why. He was able to get a full pardon on all his crimes through equally vague reasons. Regardless, one career choice turned down.

Back in Caprice to think and still not changed, he began dreaming bigger. Despite his age and lack of experience, he planned a fight in politics, which ultimately never came through. Despite all his attempts, it was clear it would take more then a simple position as mayor to truly restore Millennium City. Still, seeing the big problem made the little ones more glaring, and he gradually began to understand his destiny...or at least, what he was going to do for the rest of his time in Millennium City. He updated his uniform and added his signature goggles, configured to trace the exact kind of individual he was looking for. The kind of individual who, despite the irony of their origin, is about to meet a living hell.

Snow and Shenanigans

It's about now people started recognizing him. Most people ignored him, some found him amusing, others tried to kill him. He's remained alive and kicking from then until time of writing, and he'll probably last a bit longer before someone aims for the heart and not his hat for once. Still, it wasn't just Caprice in his sights. He used to go under the name "The Avenger of Canadia" (That's not misspelled). Originally powered from some northern spirits, they left him in a few days after finding him too annoying. He continued wearing the clothes and being a classic, if manic, superhero.

It was about now he started really getting the attention of the authorities, namely Steelhead. Being that he wasn't moving far from their usual area in the north, he got very well acquainted with superhero authorities. Having a tendency to set up picnics on the roof, raid their lunchrooms and demand piggy backs from Justicar did him no favors.

We're not sure if it was through Caprice or the Avenger-ing, but around this time he met Kyril Foster, his best friend and eternal nemesis. Kyril went by the name Frostbite and they met on the battlefield many times. Equally as many times were their meetings in Caprice out of capes. While they were just as violent, if not more, they still seemed friendly in their chats. Eventually during one of their northern battles, he critically wounded Kyril, forcing him into retirement. 'The Avenger' followed suit, perhaps finding it boring without a nemesis, and stuck to his red costume rather then white.

Boomerang Retirement

A golden age. Madness and infamy, building a name for himself. A circle of friends who worry for him every day. He sat atop the rafters, gloating. It seemed like 'David Spade' and he'd begun calling himself (without knowing it's future importance) had finally had his all his wishes granted; but it was not to last. The other human brought to our world, Johnny C., instructed him that they had to return to their original dimension. The exact details of why are difficult to recall from the witnesses, as they mostly recall joy from the supposed living nightmare fall to tears right in the bar. He said his goodbyes and gave up many pieces of his equipment, since he wouldn't be able to take them with him. Many a joyful tear was wept as he took his last round in Caprice, giving up more and more of his ensemble. Left with nothing but his pants, he was finally confronted with the gate that had been rigged to send him back. Hesitation be damned, something went wrong. The portal mercifully took 'David', but not Johnny, ironic since Johnny was the one who actually wanted to go home. He eventually got home his own way, but this is not his documented history, this sadly belongs to that one idiot from Caprice, and there was peace after he finally left. People could speak their mind without fear, and much of his infamy faded away into nothing.

You probably gathered that didn't last.

Months later, he finally shows his face again, now using the alias of Tim Clark. Having sacrificed a limb to the beings that brought him here originally as a freebie, it still isn't clear exactly what part of our world enticed him; power, friends, loved ones or the food. He didn't immediately return to Caprice, preferring feeding birds in the park and chatting timidly with the people that spoke to him. It was during what was to be known as the Great Renaissance Center Conga Line, that he was practically summoned. Mugging Kyril Foster to recover the old pieces of his equipment that the Australian was lugging around, he returned to action. Faster, stronger, arguably funnier, definitively more annoying, Millennium City collectively groaned.

Mad Hatter

Having returned and quite quickly recovered his presence, the dear old loon made some new allies. A master thief, a being unnaturally similar to Cthulhu, and journalist Serenity Summers, the last of which he knew back from his more political days. Friendships blossomed and shenanigans ensued, though perhaps through some honest friendships he began doubting his less successful relationships in Caprice. He tried to keep his mind off such things, but regardless of how successful he was something got in the way. His hat had fully synced to his mind and was ready for the final step, surgically attaching itself directly through his skull. He entered the HATSUIT, and promptly terrified all his friends. Half supercomputer and playing god, he was really one step away from taking over the world, before Serenity confronted him about 10 minutes before UNTIL was about to take action. Through convoluted yes or no questions strung into a game with the prize being of all things, a date, he gave in and removed his hat. Reportedly they found that not a single bowling alley exists in town, and that was the last time they got along for a long time.

Hat tamed and hopeful, he started exploring. Not quite done with threatening the world, he met The Arsonist, immortal time traveling fire spirit and demon overlord. They promptly became best friends and took to mocking Caprice Demons together. Unfortunately, the self loathing had gotten to critical levels. Mars was tired of being shot at, punched, crippled and shunned, and almost gave into being a hatborg again just to get even. Then Arsonist forked the timeline and punched him in the fountain, so he was too busy screaming to think about killing anyone. Despite the unfortunate fork that created this other version of him which was thankfully killed recently, this gave him time to remember his real goals, and what he was in this job for. Of course, he wasn't going to be freelance for much longer. He registered as a hero, true, but he was thinking of multitasking.

Dealing the Deck

One fateful day, Hat asked The Arsonist what the spade on his chest represented. It turned out to be merchandise from some long distant organization; and when pressed about it, Arsonist began telling stories. Stories of a hero fighting against a legion of black and red. Of Italdesign, bandit champion, and his fight against the Vaktovian Empire. The Vaktovian's were pale-faced, skimpy dressed abyss and crimson: Caprice Demons. Unfortunately, Italdesign was struck down after years of fighting and rampaging, but it was too late. Against all warnings that this was a bad idea, Hat Trick pulled together all his connections to summon Ital's spirit to our world. Arriving via what few benevolent powers remain in the fountain and tied to the very essence of Club Caprice, so was created The Exemplar, and so was reborn The Caprice Spades (though it's been considered that, due to time shenanigans, the Spades were reborn from the image of the already existing Spades which they made, in a time loop).

Due to his already existing work in the field, Hat was granted the title of the ACE, while Exemplar was deemed KING, and Arsonist was given JACK. More details on the soon to be written file on the Spades, but back to work. Hat Trick now had all the confirmation he needed that he was fighting a just cause all along, much to the dismay of his normal friends. He's not retiring until the fountain's clean, and now he's got partners in crime.

Comments

"He plays a mean game of go-fish." - The Arsonist

"...That prodigy? Interestingly bemusingly wonderessly curious. That is all I will say." - Gloom

"Mars? Yeah, he's a pretty cool guy. A bit...uh...'Out there', but harmless unless you value your shoes." Jack Eldritch

"...Scares Lana. Lots. Lana no like loud, scary strange person." - Lana

"Heem? Oooh! Ooo, ah doh -noot- leek heem! Hee's ahnohhing!" - Neadasyrek

"He and the Spades do good work." - Stitch