Registry of the Evolved Database
File #29 Jul 2010 03:26
|
 Mark Sheppard |
The earliest history of Sullivan Crane can summarized briefly; a boy of mixed parentage, by the standards of the United Kingdom, born of an "immigrant" Irish mother to a Londoner Englishman. This latter, a policeman, would raise his son to follow in his footsteps; we may dispense with childhood traumas (of which there were virtually none) and skip directly to Crane the Younger's own police career, which was to be almost universally celebrated (mildly, of course, and in a dignified manner). Though his detractors would accuse him of Fenian sympathies and periodically scrutinize his personal business for indications of such, his career was largely unspotted. Possessed of an inquisitive nature that translated well to his line of work, he would eventually become known as Detective-Inspector Crane, of Scotland Yard.
After several years into an increasingly illustrious career, indications of troubles began to arise. Partners and peers began to find Detective-Inspector Crane increasingly difficult to work with. Initially, the policeman's evident zeal was dismissed as mere "character" and quirkiness, but eventually the reports of his behavior became more and more curious. He seldom seemed to sleep, and to this was owed the onset of his personality becoming increasingly sharp, abrasive, and aggressive. Predictably, this foreshadowed his regrettable behavior in a case in which a suspect was soundly beaten unto bloodiness, and Scotland Yard subsequently ordered an inquiry into Crane's strange and sudden descent into questionable mental health.
This review would see Crane relieved of duty, in the end, and it was said that only his prior, sterling record protected him from prosecution. The investigation had revealed that the increasingly manic detective was taking somewhere between two to three hours of sleep a night, without any evident physical toll, but resulting in the considerable degradation of his personal judgment. Bereft of his career, Sullivan Crane idled for some months before almost arbitrarily emigrating to the United States, having developed a considerable distaste for his homeland; after his absence, old foes would still mutter unfounded accusations of IRA sympathies.
In America, former-Detective-Inspector Crane would find no succor. The dubious credentials of his immigration, coupled with a profound disinterest in having his Scotland Yard career scrutinized, would ultimately prevent him from locating gainful employment. Fraught with a seemingly inexhaustible insomnia, Crane would pace endlessly in his tenement apartment. When he began to wear paths in the carpeting, his took to the streets, winding endless circuits through the alleys of the city. And then, one day, he began to walk westward, eager to burn away this apparent wellspring of energy. Without rest, he continued at a brisk pace for an unaccountable amount of time, utterly unaffected by days and weeks without sleep, striding ever onward in an increasingly deranged blur until one day he stopped, ankle deep in salt-water. The Pacific Ocean now lapped at his feet, and Sullivan Crane lost his mind.
Deep within the throes of a psychotic break, Crane was swiftly captured and imprisoned. A few days later, authorities realized that the latest raving occupant of the drunk tank was showing little sign of sobering up, and he was delivered into the custodial care of a psychiatric facility. As his apparent lunacy continued to broaden dramatically and violently, Crane was eventually relegated to a well-cushioned room in a sub-basement, generally visited only by orderlies that had recently lost a bet.
It happened that there was a Company with particular interests in unusual people; the circumstances of Crane's mental health were a matter of public (if obscure) record, and eventually the details triggered a flag during the company's periodic data-mining for "persons of interest." Agents were dispatched, and the case of the lunatic Crane was considered; the hospital staff was perplexed as to why officials of dubious government (?) provenance should be interested in their deranged, shrieking inmate, even if said tenant was evidently immune to sedatives and had remained awake for a period of approximately seventeen months. Nonetheless, deals were made. Palms may have been greased, perhaps money changed hands, or elbows were twisted, but eventually Patient John Doe Number Too-High-To-Count was delivered into the Company's "protective custody."
The usefulness of an inexhaustible yet (pardon our French) bat-shit insane specimen was questionable to the Company, so they began experimenting with increasing doses of profoundly dangerous levels of sedatives, until they eventually developed a toxic cocktail that finally induced a coma-like state of hitherto unknown rest. For two months, the company pumped this poison (which would likely kill an elephant as well as its extended family) into their patient while carefully studying his curious physiology. When they at last allowed the sedatives to expire, their patient awoke, quite sound of mind and lucid, if a bit hazy on the details of the last two years of his life. An apparent lack of atrophy in his limbs furthered interested the company, and a further battery of tests was ordered.
Thus it was discovered that a former Detective-Inspector of Scotland Yard, Sullivan Crane, had developed a preternatural, superhuman endurance. Once his mental health (and the means of enduring it) was comfortably determined, the Company found a ready-made agent in its latest patient. Lacking much else to tether him to his former mode of life, Crane was rather easily persuaded into his new role as a "them," in the policy of "one of us, one of them." While has had adapted readily as an investigator into the cases of similarly "evolved" humans, certainly one must expect that his loyalty is well-tempered by his reliance on the potent chemical infusions they provide to keep him, well… normal.
Crane has since become a loyal Company agent; the benefits of an employer that celebrates (rather than denigrates) his particular idiosyncrasies are not lost on him. He is considered to be a bit of a blank slate: a British national that was quite mentally out-of-pocket at the time of the Manhattan explosion, lacking conventional loyalties… rather an ideal candidate for New York assignment.
Since becoming "evolved," the notable elements of Crane's personality have become more pronounced. Previous he was subtle, unassuming, and succinct; now, his peers find him sullen, sardonic, and impolite. Once wholeheartedly loyal to the concept of public service, he has reapplied (mostly successfully) that faith to his current occupation of tracking or mitigating evolved human threats. At best, he is dryly witty, and at worst utterly unbearable (leading some to suggest that perhaps his sedative dosage is far too conservative), but none of his Company cohorts doubt his steadfastness to their cause. Nonetheless, his superiors have has to reassign him as a partner on multiple occasions, in various regions, ever hoping to find another agent that can stand him.
Sullivan Crane possesses the Evolved ability of superhuman endurance, which manifests itself in fairly broad ways throughout his physiology.
Crane is virtually tireless: he can exert himself at a moderate pace, such as walking, or remaining awake, for an apparently indefinite period. He is able to maintain strenuous physical activity for a period far beyond the norm, the precise extent of which has not been fully measured; Company testing of Crane's capacity for brisk jogging on a treadmill mainly indicated the researcher's threshold for boredom before calling off the trial after seventeen hours. While his physical strength is not unusual for man of his health and build, he is able to exercise that strength for longer periods of time; it has been observed that the fast-twitch fibers of his muscles, (which, in a normal human, operate for brief exertions) operate with the efficiency of slow-twitch muscle fiber, enabling him to sustain long periods of heavy lifting. (Sadly, that is the least tedious description that Company researchers could come up with.)
Through an extremely unpleasant battery of tests and examinations, the following additional aspects of Crane's ability have been noted by the Company, not without some resentfulness on the part of the subject:
- Can hold his breath for approximately eleven minutes. Can remain conscious bereft of oxygen for about three minutes. Can probably remain alive without oxygen for a longer period than a normal human, but it seemed impolite to test this further.
- Although the exact extent cannot be safely determined, can survive approximately two weeks without water and three months without food. Weight loss and/or muscle atrophy from dehydration and/or malnutrition appear to be minimal. He is relatively unbothered by considerable heat or cold.
- Astonishing resistance to toxins, poisons, etc. Massive doses of narcotic sedatives must be administered to induce unconsciousness. He is highly resistant to the effects of alcohol and conventional drugs; to the subject's evident displeasure, he requires approximately five times the conventional volume of alcohol to achieve intoxication, returning to a state of sobriety in a fraction of the expected time. Similarly, his immune system seems highly resistant at the bacterial or viral level.
Research has noted that Crane can endure considerable amounts of pain without debilitating effect. It has been difficult to quantify this empirically, but it would appear that pain is felt at the same intensity as a normal human being; he is just able to endure it longer. Generally speaking, Crane exhibits a high level of fortitude against mental stress, with one critical exception.
The final aspect of Crane's ability is noteworthy because it also represents a critical weakness. Without artificial intervention or an astronomical amount of physical exertion, Crane cannot sleep; left to its own devices, his body never seems to physically tire. In the short term, this can be a highly useful aspect of his ability, but in the long term it becomes psychologically devastating. Although his body can seemingly sustain perpetual activity, it nonetheless requires periodic rest at the cerebral level. When first considering Crane's mentally ravaged state, the Company eventually determined that his psychotic break was a result of a complete absence of proper sleep cycles; his own body was precluding him from REM sleep and the dream states that help maintain sanity.
To compensate, Crane must follow a periodic regimen of induced sleep by means of a massive dose of chemicals. At minimum, the following routine has been prescribed:
- A four-hour induced rest state every three days.
- A 24-hour induced rest-state every three months.
- A one-week induced coma state once per year.
During these chemically-induced rests, Crane cannot be roused by conventional means; short of a massive dose of adrenaline, he remains dead to the world and quite helpless. Crane administers the four-hour intravenous dosages on his own as needed, but reports to a Company facility for the longer rest-states which must be continually dosed by IV under medical supervision. Company physicians have noted that their patient seems to resent this reliance and that he tends to push this schedule to its outermost limits, generally resulting in increased abrasiveness and unreliability.
The Company dossier on Crane expresses reservation on the scope of his abilities. To quote: "The subject's above-human capacities should not be exaggerated. Without any doubt, it can be proven in laboratory and real-world conditions that the subject possesses heightened capacities in the areas of physical and mental endurance. Rate of healing is demonstrably above normal. Tensile resistance of epidermis is demonstrably above normal. However, it should be stressed that these capabilities would not protect the subject from grievous bodily injury nor permit rapid, life-saving healing from such." One examiner noted that the moderate but broad range of Crane's talents made him something of a "supercop," capable of far more wear-and-tear than an un-Evolved peer. A handwritten note adds, dryly, that the subject's patience, at least, far outlasted that of the examiner.