Name: Quentin Gortado
Alias: Zephychronos (Commonly "Zeph")
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Appearance: Has pale blue eyes, light brown hair, a slightly crooked nose and smile, both leaning to the right of his face in a sinister fashion, wears an old-fashioned shaded (no as not to see his eyes) and protective pair of mad scientist-type goggles, a black, rubbery flame-retardant and ice-insulated (semi) suit extending from his collar to his knees, black rubber boots for electric insulation, his forcefield generator and amplifier on his back, and has his somewhat gentle, unscarred hands free from "rubber restraint," if you will.
Powers/Skills: Capable of immense, speedy brain activity and has built many different machines and weapons to aid in his pursuits, but has almost always (and I'm not planning on cheapily implementing any other weapon other than this) used his hand-made mind-synced forcefield amplifier, capable of deflecting various sorts of projectiles (including bullets) and sometimes able to, depending on the projectile, throw it back at the source. However, this forcefield does not protect against the elements to a major extent (it KIND OF works) and, after using it for an extended period of time (more than 5-10 minutes, say), Zeph becomes extremely exhausted and more lethargic than normal in movement. The forcefield, also self-explanatory, is capable of far more than deflection; its tremendous force can be used at great distances, sort of like an invisible "pillar of force," if you will. (Note: if more weaknesses need to be added to balance, I can do that. Just let me know)
History: Quentin was always exceptional. Speaking at 5 months, walking at 10, he was always destined for great things. He was through college at 13, gained his Ph.D. in mechanical engineering and experimental physics (that's right, two Ph.D.s. This kid is special) at 16, and entered the working world a year later. No one took him seriously. His parents had always said that he would encounter this kind of opposition in school, kids feeling threatened by his intellectual superiority, which hardened him to life except for that of his parents' love. It's what got him through each day as a normal human being. But, he never expected it to get this bad in the "real world." Not from regular people, and not from the so-called "heroes" he worked with every day, underestimating him, belittling him.
Then everything went wrong.
They never found the guy who did it. Apparently it was some drunk driver, but Quentin soon made his own inquiries into the event, and found that it was one of these "heroes" supposed to keep "our fair city" functioning. The police didn't want to prosecute an all-powerful hero. Oh, no, of course not. They'd be beaten and killed to cover it up. It threw Quentin into a destructive loop. He quit his lucrative job at the age of 17, soon after the accident, and went into a deep depression; people (namely the heroes, now) had never been kind to him before: why should he ever return the favor when it was them who took away his only joy in the world? He designed his own equipment based on his own scientific research over the next two years, his favorite being the forcefield generator and amplifier, directed by his own brainwaves at the exact caliber his brain specified.