Editing Red Raven (section)

=====Origin Story:=====
Franklin Butler was an average kid growing up in an average home in a dangerous and mysterious city. He didn't care much for others, but he wasn't frigid, just scared of being hurt (both emotionally and physically.) He read a lot and kept casual romantic dalliances with decent girls to pass off the boredom, and after college landed a job as a clerk at the DAs office. Butler was determined to get a house out in the suburbs, find a nice wife (preferably one who knew how to cook), a picket fence and a dog before he hit 30. Fate had other plans for Franklin though.

After working late he was heading towards the subway to get home to his dull apparent to get some hours of sleep before getting back on the hamster wheel the next day. He gets jumped by these hoods. They don't give a shit that he's a nobody, that he's not particularly rich or important. The hoods just wanna do damage to somebody, mess someone up and remind Baroque that dammit, their craptasticular existences DO matter.

Butler eats the asphalt. Tastes the dirt of the city. Broken teeth clatter down a sewage drain. Considers through the pain that these shitbirds might actually kill him for a second.

But before he has time to make peace with his eventual death, something black and dangerous sweeps in. Takes the thugs down. A dark, avenging angel, wielding a cozier. Instead of seeing God, Butler saw his future. And then the black dangerous something was gone.

A seed was planted.

Franklin Butler went home that night, bleeding and introspective, re-thinking what the hell he was actually doing with his life.

He woke up with a plan. Butler made up a name with the right ring to it. Wanted it to sound like some sort of swift justice. Said screw you to the suburban dream and got a tailor to make his tights for him. Lied to the guy and told him he worked with Baroque's equivalent of Disney-on-Ice. Got his helmet and cape custom made by some movie prop studio he tracked down. Told them to make it durable.

Butler sniffed around the DAs office. Put shit together. Went slumming as Franklin. , figuring out the lay of the land. Till finally he'd found the right time and the right place to test his wings.

Franklin Butler put his helmet on, and became the Red Raven. Now he was the presence in the dark, making a name for himself with his fists. Justice, and a black, bloodstained feather were his only traces.

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Months pass. The League accept the Red Raven as a somebody. A young kid with the right ideals. Franklin enjoys vigilantism. On the way to the soda machine at the DA's office he is already thinking about what he'd need in his tool-belt, the grappling hook or a flare gun. Spends time at the gym, imagining faces instead of sandbags.

Then one night, Red Raven stumbles on a veritable goldmine. Some goons are transporting a mutagen-serum to a high end client, another freak in a regular joe's body, wanting to become more, to grasp for power that was not meant for human kind. Raven trashed the thugs and headed off with the mutagen. Kept it in a syringe. Stared at it, wondering if he should or shouldn't.  Finally, his growing sense of civil responsibility, as well as hubris, got the best of him.

"If more people in this bent city were like me, Baroque would be a better place!" thought Franklin. "It is my destiny!"

Injection.

And now Red Raven found that he was a speedster, quicker than a fired bullet! He can run faster than a Lamborghini Diablo, make air by jumping and sail with his cloak! Spin like a dervish and knock goons out with the weights with the very same cloak!

"Finally," thought Red Raven, reveling in his newfound powers. "Now I can take my rightful place as one of Baroque's true masked avengers. Now I am not just some angry joe with a suit. Now there is no denying it. I am a super hero."