BACKGROUND:

FRANCE, SEPTEMBER 2001

General Salomon d´Autmarre was an idiot.  Oh, he had a genius level IQ and the political saavy to place himself at the head of France's Advanced Weapons Technology Program, but when it came to just about everything else in life he was a myopic fool.  He did things and thought little of the consequences, instead thinking that what he desired would be the proper-indeed, the only conceivable-outcome.

Needless to say, d'Autmarre was often disappointed.

France was fortunate in that there were no extra-dimensional attacks upon her soil, but that did not stop him from worrying about what may happen.  At the moment the closest attack was Ireland, which for him was far too close.

He stared out the window at the launch platform for the experimental weapon cobbled together from their study of a rare artifact and the aborted ballistic missile program.  He saw two problems; the first was there was only one weapon, the second he had no idea what it would do when it detonated.  One theory was the pocket universe would rupture open, devouring this universe in a cataclysmic explosion that would not end until reality itself was consumed.  But weren't there similar fears when the first atomic bomb was being detonated?  Yes.  And did it stop those scientists from detonating it?  Of course not!  And everything worked out just fine in the end, didn't it?

General d'Autmarre smiled as he keyed up the launch sequence himself and activated the missile.  It leapt into the air like a greyhound on the scent of a rabbit.  He sighed, visions of accolades and pretty Italian women romping through his simplistic genius skull...

IRELAND, TWELVE MINUTES LATER...

Grimoire accepted the canteen of water gratefully from Lionheart and drank deeply.  He knew they would have to be leaving Ireland soon to fly to Chicago to take on the Roman Imperialate.  Once he closed the dimensional portal here they could detonate charges over it, closing it for good by permanently disrupting the ley line energies.

He felt tired, both physically and emotionally.  Felisomballa, his lover, was dead at his hands.  Turned by some unseen enemy into High Justice's betrayer, there was no bringing her back.  It would be covered up, of course.  Felis was quite possibly High Justice's most popular member, if the world discovered she had almost destroyed them...

He looked up, as did the many Irish and British soldiers as well as the host of costumed adventurers that milled about.  A flare of light could be clearly seen in the night sky above, as could the distant rumble of a...

"Missile," Lionheart noted, "Large one, from the sound of it.  Possibly a nuclear warhead."

Grimoire was never able to quite accept how calm Lionheart-Kate-sounded so calm in the face of ridiculous peril.  It was as if she was so used to being in danger that it barely phased her.  That, or that she was so seldom harmed that she was at least in part divorced from reality.  The sorcerer shook his head; that was not important, what was was determining the threat.  He cast his mystic senses out to the missile...

And groaned.

"It is a doomsday device," he said, "A weapon of incalculable power, thought to have been lost for millenia, from a time when wizards..."

"Then punching it will not help?"

Grimoire rolled his eyes, "No, Lionheart, punching it will not help."

Kate turned her head from the sky to face him, a shadow of her old smile on her lips, "Then what should we do?"

The sorcerer's hands were already weaving a complex pattern, "I will attempt to direct the blast to an unihabited area.  Hopefully the transfer will diffuse the blast enough not to vaporize a continent," he paused, "And if that doesn't work feel free to punch it."

NEVADA, FORTY SECOND LATER...

Johnny could feel the slight pain in his left side finally work itself  out. Good. He had plenty of water in his camelback and didn't feel like  stopping
and limping the next five miles back to the dorms. In his mind, nothing prepared you better for a marathon than these bi-weekly fifteen milers  in
the desert. Sure the first time he tried it the park rangers had to  airlift him out with a helicopter, but he didn't bring water then. Who ever  heard of
a park without water fountains? Then again, the 'park' was really just  miles of desert and massive rock formations jutting out of the ground.  Still...

Taking a light sip off the warm water that he had fastened to his back  he wiped some sweat out of his eyes and focused on the big bird thing  that  had suddenly appeared in the clear Las Vegas sky. White? What kind of bird?

Oh, no, it wasn't white, it was some kind of plane. Nope. Not a bird,  not a plane. It's,"Dude this sucks so bad!" was all he could blurt out to the
deaf sand around him as the missile smashed into the ground not more than  ten feet in front of him. Johnathan Albret Pistinowitz  winced as he
awaited the inevitable explosion that would engulf him in deadly flames, rip his  body apart, and ruin his absolutely favorite pair of Adidas running shoes. Instead he was treated to a vision so bright it made the blinding sands  on the Nevada landscape seem pale.

The missile, lodged in the ground one third of it's length on a forty-five degree angle began to shimmer, yellow and red energy patterns whirling through it's thick metal shell, twisting and churning onto and through one another. The sand around the object began to fuse in a throbbing,  circular pattern. Johnny thought to flee, but the pattern hummed, swam through  his senses, beckoned to him. The impossibly bright ball of yellow, red, and orange grew even larger, more powerful, threatening to reach it's  zenith and lay waste to everything within dozens of miles from it's center.  Johnny touched it, and with an anti-climatic rush the energy raced into him.  His eyes, ears, mouth, his very pores yawned wide to accept the escaping energy of twin microscopic suns that were finally released from their mystical prison and allowed to die in the full ferocity of novas.

Johnny came to his senses slowly, like recovering from the afterglow of  some incredible orgasm. "Cool." The camel back, as well as all of his  clothes were little but dust blowing on the football field sized circle of  glass he stood on. It didn't worry him, he didn't feel very thirsty. "That was  really weird," he uttered to no one in particular. He glanced at his bare wrist where his watch had been. How much time had passed while he  was...basking? He had no idea, but he was supposed to meet Jessica Moore at the  library by six. He hoped he'd make it as he trotted the rest  f his route...

Johnny Helix (formerly Johnathan Albret Pistinowitz)
Age 21 (20 when transformed)
Height: 5'7"
Weight 135 lbs
Hair: light brown
eyes: pale blue
Physical description: Johnny is thin, with next to no body fat thanks
to his
cross country training. He's not unpleasant to look at, if not a bit
scrawny, His hair is slightly curly and usually a little overgrown and
unkempt. It's not so much a style as a lack of consideration. He's
nearly
always wearing a happy grin.

Costume: Johnny's costume makes him stand out in a crowd, even a crowd of spandex clad super heroes. He wears a red and orange mask  Which leaves his hair, nose and mouth exposed, a pair of yellow visor like glasses, and a bright Red, orange, and yellow uniform. The gloves,  Belt,  and knee high boots are yellow, the sleeves and leggings red, with an orange upside down triangle starting at his shoulders and tapering  Down to his crotch from in front and behind.

Personality: Johnny floated through life not realizing the breaks he'd gotten and definitely unable to focus on a future before his exposure to the
relic. He was attending UNLV on a track scholarship, just barely maintaining a 2.2 average in his arts studies. He had yet to declare a major, although just before the incident he was coming up to that hurdle. With the opportunity to see the world and "Do some good, man." he dropped out of college. Johnny likes to see the best of everyone and everything first,  but he's not totally ignorant of the misgivings of persons or  situations.  He was raised by his ex hippie current book editor aunt, Tish, and was exposed  to people of varying alternative lifestyles throughout  his development. He's very accepting of most everyone that doesn't harm others.

Johnny never knew what he wanted to do with his life. "Help out' was pretty much the extent of what he could explain. He's not sure if he believes in God or Buddha or anything else just yet, but he's sure he wouldn't have been exposed to that missile if there wasn't some kind of master plan for him.

History: After developing his powers Johnny's first PDP (what he called his Public Display of Powers) was when he foiled an attempted robbery at the Dunes hotel by a super-criminal calling himself "The Galvanator". The Galvanator had the odd ability to coat people or objects he touched in a grey, metallic like substance that rendered them inert, except himself.  He seemed impervious to conventional harm in his unique 'glaze' but still able to move. Johnny fought and defeated the criminal rather easily in the streets, revealing himself to the public. The Dunes rewarded him by  paying to develop his costume(s) for him, and for some reason Johnny, now  having legally changed his name to 'Johnny Helix', still insisted on having a mask. He stayed at the Dunes 'on the house' and practiced in the desert to  get a grip on his newfound abilities. He had tried out for the American Hero television program, but the television people gave off really bad vibes so he withdrew before the show even aired.

Powers: Johnny's unique physiology was perfectly suited to adapt to and absorb the deadly stellar radiations emitted by the 'Doomsday device',  hence the reason Grimoire's spell sent the missile to him. If not for the incident, though, he most likely would have gone through his directionless life never knowing the taste of power. The effects of the exposure have been to turn Johnny into a living 'Stellar Battery'. His body is constantly absorbing solar and stellar radiations, converting them into sustenance  and allowing him to wield them as a very pyrotechnic gravimetric force.

Johnny can fly, presumably so fast that he'd damage the atmosphere, but  he's limited to the speed he can perceive, currently around 230MPH, leaving  a 'helix Tail' behind him. He can project flashy gravimetric force bolts which resemble the yellow and red helix patterns created by the  supernova suns. Although they radiate light, they are only nominally warm, like a hot  tub, although the force bolts have managed to crumble  concrete walls and  shred cars. Johnny can also form a gravimetric force field around himself,  more of an orange hue, which protects him from  harm while flying and can withstand medium arms fire rather easily. The Force Field allows some light OUT,  but no sound or radio waves in or out, so he cannot freely communicate while protected save through gestures.

Lastly, Johnny's body no longer requires air, water, or food. Stellar energies sustain him, although by overextending his abilities he can  grow considerably weak, almost as if in a state of physical starvation and dehydration. In such an instance he cannot use his powers and his entire
body grows dark as it consumes all of the light and radiant energies around him.

Light based attacks have little effect on him, but other radiant  energies are too complex for his body to process quickly in massive doses. Slow leaking radiation might not harm him, but concise energy attacks will have a normal effect if he does not use his force field.