➢Name: Joshua Ward
➢Age: 42 years old
➢Weight: 212.5 lbs
➢Hair color: Sienna
➢Eye color: Light gray
➢P.o.B.: Pax - U.S.
➢Alias(es): Mr. Null, Null
➢Occupation: Ex-cop, current accounts payable accountant
➢Equipment: Grappling hook (stolen from the precint back in the day), Smith & Wesson M&P 9
"Guess you never had anything special. Just one more sell-out."
The city of Pax certainly has it's fair share of superpowered misfits, and aside from those, it also has the extremely skilled individuals who dedicated their entire lives to perfecting a certain concept. Be it martial arts or talented geniuses, this place has them all, to an extent the only true way to have the upper-hand is by not having your whole gig discovered by the opposing side before you discover theirs. With that in mind, and acknowledging the corruption of the system itself, Joshua Ward never really gave away his abilities to anyone. Of course, standard police training and a few hours of spare time dumped on the honing of certain skills rendered the man more than capable of handling himself in a bar brawl and a shootout, and his intellect is not impaired in any way, yet those are quite easy pieces of information to acquire, even moreso to any observant eye.
Instead, Ward never really gave up his true hidden ability, a trump card amongst trump cards: a superpower of his own. Truth be told, it is no special feat being born with an inhuman ability, let alone one seemingly useless such as his was during his whole lifetime. If it weren't for an incident where he got himself in a fight during his school days, he might as well have had no knowledge of it at all. Just as his self-given moniker, Mr. Null's ability does not work by granting him some form of manipulation or superhuman trait, much on the contrary, it works by completely nullifying those. Having him as the very center of the area, if he so desires, his powers can activate and completely erase any power detected in a radius of up to 30 feet. This does not only apply to individuals, but also to objects/people under the effect of a certain ability (for instance, a fireball is no longer affected by a power, however a mind-controlled individual or a floating object through telekinesis require an active use of the powers to keep them that way).
It is his ace under his sleeves, the one form of playing a somewhat even game.
"So... You gave up, huh? Just gonna leave the city to rot?"
"And to think I trusted you..."
What brings a man into retirement? It can be plenty of reasons. Money, fatigue, unhappiness... List goes on and on. But none of those seemed to apply to Joshua Ward, an upcoming police detective with a knack to solving any manner of crime. Pax tended to do so with their most optimistic individuals, turn their smile upside down, slam their hopes into the dirt. It could be many a motive, but to him it was simply one: it was useless. The police department seemed more inclined to give a pass to criminals controlling the routine of people rather than simply endangering them as small fry tended to, and no matter how many ounces of lead on a corpse were linked directly to the commanding finger of a big shot, they always came out clean as a whistle. Always some sad story. Not enough evidence, evidence destroyed prior to examination, the crime actually reflecting on a cop that barely had anything to do with the scene.
Soon Joshua believed the rumors to be true, that this city could know no better, be no better.
The final straw came in a very harmful way, when one of his partners bit the bullet for meddling too much somewhere he wasn't supposed to. Truth be told, it was partially Ward's fault for even suggesting the man to look into the crime scene, especially considering it was Joshua himself who told the man his own conclusions. Broken, mourning and defeated. Joshua wanted to punch the teeth out of the dirty grin on his chief's face as he gave up the badge altogether. It was a happy day for the precint, a few honest frowns aside. Seeing such a young, promising man giving up his future was sad, but a few persisted on attempting to get him back, give him a novel spark of hope in the city.
Barely did they know, the monotony on his tone and the permanent bags under his eyes were no sign of melancholy nor acceptance. They were but a few glimpses of unadulterated revenge, scorching underneath the emotionless, constantly tired mascarade he put on everyday on his job. Police was flawed, unable to properly execute their task, given too little tools and too little protection from the darkness encompassing the city's heart. More than anyone, Joshua desired a crime-ridden Pax rather than a crime-infested one. And the secret he had kept from the department so long, together with the secret forged on that fatidic day ultimately conceived the one form he knew would effectively fight back. Not the uneffective vigilantes that randomly scattered half a dozen beatings and called it a night, but precise strikes and a much more in-depth investigation.
Wounds do not the answer the questions, but evidence does.
That is the way of the faceless detective, that is the way of...