(Image courtesy of City of Heroes)

Created by Michael A. Norville

Real Name: Mikael Northern

Aliases: None

Identity: Public

Occupation: Owner/operator of TechNoir Inc

Citizenship: Canadian

Place of Birth: Toronto, Ontario

Known Relatives: None

Group Affiliation: None

Education: Bachelor's degrees in Business Administration [Ryerson University, Toronto Ontario] & Security Systems [CryoFloe Online University]

Catch Phrase: "Drop it. Or I'll drop you." "Hunt's on." "Growl!"

Height: 6'1"

Weight: 195

Eyes: green with vertically slit pupils

Hair: black

History:

Mikael Northern was a young man looking for a career with the police, perhaps even the FBI. He worked as a security agent to put himself through college. He had to work hard; his father he never knew, his mother died as he graduated high school, and his family on his mother's side was scattered across the US, estranged and hardly inclined to remain in contact, let alone lend financial aid. Before he completed his course of study, an ailment that was sapping his strength led him to seek the advice of a specialist. His worse fears were  confirmed; he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, rapidly acelerating.

Despondent, he withdrew from his friends, and spent many weeks in increasing despair. His insurance covered his treatments, but they were ineffective at reversing his condition. So when he received an offer to take part in a blind study of an experimental treatment (travel expenses and accomodations paid) he jumped at the opportunity, packed up this things, and followed this slim thread of hope to a place called Skiffytown.

The treatment facility was strange, but he was willing to undergo anything at the possibility of being cured. While it was made clear that there were other patients, he was isolated, kept inside, closely monitored electronically and physically.  After two two months of injections, testing, spinal taps, and something he overheard was the 'introduction of retrograde RNA viral xenophage' ("Whatever THAT meant," he thought) nothing seemed to have had any effect.

Two months, twelve days into the treatment, the facility was raided. Chaos, bedlam, panic. Some agency (government? superhero? rival? terrorist? who could tell in the pandemonium?) invaded in the placid pre-dawn morning. Technicians and patients fled from the disintegrating facility, Mikael among them.  Exhausted, terrified, he ran until he could no longer continue. Regrouping, he checked his possessions, found the cheapest hotel room he could check into with his meager funds and collapsed.

When he next awoke it was dawn, and his room was full of pizza boxes he didn't remember ordering. His body ached, he was starving, and there were fragments of skin and hair on the bed he had occupied that looked like his. He had changed while he had slept, cosmetically and physically. . .and he had slept for three days. He packed up his things and headed out, but not home. He withdrew ALL of his meager funds, and went into hiding Whatever happened to him, he was now sure it was no legitimate research facility that was responsible. . . and that they, or the people that busted them, would eventually come looking for him.

A little research in the local papers brought answers, and inevitably more questions.  A squad of heroes had shut down what turned out to be an extremely illegal laboratory conducting experiments on humans. Several of the test subjects had in fact been terminated, autopsied and disposed of before the raid. Exactly how many was unclear;computer records had been destroyed as the facility's defences were penetrated, and although the nefarious Sawbones had been apprehended some of his assistants escaped. The full scope of the operation would take time to unravel.

Mikael realized just how lucky he was to be alive; his "treatment" was supposed to have completed its cycle the day after the raid. He thought of the unknown victims whose lives had been taken just because they, like he, had been isolated and alone, and the thought that some of Sawbones' henchmen would never be brought to justice for their part in that atrocity filled him with a cold fury.  He never made a conscious decision to do so. . . but that moment he made it his personal task to ensure none of Sawbones' men would avoid prosecution.

The path he took was never straight-forward. He examined police records, interviewed witnesses and revisisted the scene many times. He formed his own private investigations company as a way more easily get at informations he needed, then found himself actually taking cases unrelated to his quest as people began to approach him for help with their unique problems. These jobs lead to others, and private investigations expanded into bounty hunting, security consulting and bodyguard work, whatever was required. Eventually, he had to hire on people to help him in his work; he communicated with them by phone and computer as they filled his need for competent researchers and administrators, but he remained, as far as the rest of Skiffytown was concerned, the sole owner/operator of TechNoir Inc.

Throughout all this, he never forgot the people who, alone and vulnerable, were snuffed out by Sawbones. Those lonely souls were never even missed. The thought drove him relentlessly, and within months he had found all the henchmen who had worked on Sawbones "Xeno Sapiens" project. Many had taken work with other villains, while a few were no longer pursuing the life of a henchman, but none were to escape the spotlight. Those that could be turned in to authorities would greet a knock on the door to find Skiffytown police ready to read them their rights. Others residing in villain lairs were  more difficult to extricate; on occasion he found himself battling superviallains in order to get at one particular underling, the irony of which did not escape him. But a year to the day from the time he fled the lab, the last of Sawbones' henchmen was arraigned on various charages, thanks to Bagheera's work.

His name he got from a contact early P.I. work, when he was working a literate contact who wanted no names used. His contact dubbed himself Baloo, and Mikael he called Bagheera. It seemed fitting, given the cat-like qualities that he had exhibited since his change, and he began to refer to himself in that manner whenver he had any contact with police, the public or the media while "on the job". He makes no attempt to retain a secret identity; although he assiduously avoids the spotlight anyone who does a little research is aware that Mikael Northern owns TechNoir Inc and goes by the nom de geurre Bagheera. For all intents and purposes he is the only person who works at TechNoir Inc, and he goes to great lengths to ensure that there is no connection made with his two shadow employees, Trevor Donaldson and Sunita Perrone.

Powers / Equipment:

A lump of neural tissue, essentially a second brain, has formed at the anterior base of his spinal column, protected by the casing of his pelvis in much the same way the skull protects his brain, and connects directly into his spinal column, interfacing with his natural nervous system. Several benevolent mutations were stimulated by the "Xeno Sapiens" project. The primary benefits are:

Enhanced musculo-skeletal system. His strength, particularly lower body musculature, is much more efficient. While his raw strength barely reaches low superhuman (he can military press 1000 pounds) he can run at speeds over 90 miles per hour for extended periods, and has been observed sprinting at almost 180 mph. His fingernails have mutated into retractable talons; useful for climbing, he generally will not employ them on a living being.

Improved neurological capabilities. His senses, particulary hearing, smell and sight, are not only extraordinarily acute, but the symbiotic neural tissue processes the input in tandem with his own nervous system, sorting out threat stimuli. Because of this multi-threaded approach to possible threats he is able to react to threats before he is even consciously aware of them, a sort of sixth sense. His reflexes are vastly superior to even an athletic human.

He has also acquired and modified various modern devices. He wears a bulletproof vest of ballistic cloth ("Sometimes even bad guys get lucky, and I am not Superman") and has a comm unit with discrete headset ("Because once I bust 'em, someone has to come pick them up") and has secreted on his person a number of tools for bypassing various locks and security systems ("for times when kicking in the door is a little too noisy").

Weaknesses:

He is more susceptible to sensory attacks than a normal human. Although he can filter stimuli, unanticipated sensory overload (from bright lights, sharp reports) can stun him if he's caught unawares. He can also be caught up in sensory stimuli; many times he has found himself lost in a fragrence, or admiring the sound of the wind playing through the trees. Beautiful women can also be a curse, which he wryly admits is par for a PI.

The second 'brain' housed in his pelvic cage is more than just nervous tissue; it can and has taken direct control of his body on occasions where he has been knocked unconscious due to head trauma. It acts without any consideration for higher functions on those occasions, concerned only with the survival of the host. Those occasions are very dangerous for Bagheera as well as those in his immediate vicinity. He is presently unaware of this condition.

(original artwork by Michael A. Norville)

Creator Info:

I first came up with the concept for Bagheera around 1982. The character first had the rather unoriginal name Black Panther, then Jaguar, before Bagheera became the clear winner. Diifferent gaming systems were used to express the concept, but I only actually only actually played him for any length of time in a Fuzion online RPG hosted on Yahoo groups and run by Robert Edwards; although the game itself is no longer active, the archives are still up. A sample of the game (and my writing style) can be found here.

I'm 38 years old, a Canadian living in Minnesota. I'm married with a wife and two step-daughters.

Character Rights:

Michael A. Norville retains all rights to the character's name, image, likeness, costume design, and background story.