Jessica Albert

Real Name: Jessica Albert
Hero Name: Camelot
Title: Blackguard
Alignment: Neutral Good
Age: 34
Gender: Female
Race: Human/Cyborg
Hair: Black
Eyes: Blue
Height: 5’10
Weight: 300 lbs (with augmentations)
Blood type:



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Jessica is a … damaged individual. Once a Marine, she has been instilled with a strong sense of honor and what is right, but it has long since been tainted and twisted by her experiences; the end result is a hardened soldier, narcissistic and bitter, who despite her lack of faith in the world, ultimately does the right thing. She is tough, as hard on herself as she is her subordinates, but fair, without a discriminatory bone in her body. Her childhood has hardened her to emotions, however, and most find her a frigid, if comforting, companion. Love and sex are the furthest things from her mind. Jessica has a strong sense of duty to her organization and believes rules exist for a reason. However, she is also one to bend said rules (but never break them) if the situation is in danger of spiraling.

Jessica is an addict; she drinks a lot, and often, to quell the oft-overpowering surge of memories that comes with her memory implant. A life lived like hers, forgetfulness is a blessing. Often retrospective and thoughtful, Jessica leads the Blackguard with a vibrancy and loyalty not found outside cults. And why wouldn’t she? She owes them her life. Honor and loyalty are both very important for her and she demands it in her troops; despite this, however, she also believes in fun and humor in situations and is oft the first to slack off if there’s nothing to do.


Born to a broken home, Jessica was dealt a rough hand. Mother a meth-head, father a notorious thug, she seemed destined to follow in their footsteps. Imagine their surprise when she turned out to be a kind, intelligent, and overall pleasant girl, beloved by all her teachers and peers. Oh, she had her troubles, but for the majority of her childhood, it was nothing she couldn’t bounce back from. She was always happy, always kind to her neighbors and her fellow kids, only raised her fists in defense of others. And that last point happened quite often; from a child, she showed a remarkable capacity for empathy, always taking care of those younger and weaker than her, by force if necessary.

But her life wasn’t meant to be rainbows and butterflies forever. As a pre-teen, right at the cusp of puberty, her father spirited her away in the middle of night. Her mother, lesser of two evils, was the one with custody, and a home. But now she was living with her father out of a van, traveling America to avoid the authorities. It was not a pleasant life. Her father used her, treated her as a woman every night, leaving her broken and battered, body and spirit. It was only worse when her body started to develop, her newly burgeoning curves only adding fuel to her captor’s crazed flame.
It came to a head 4 long years later. Four years in which she was her father's puppet, used to commit atrocious, derogatory acts for which she could never speak of. How could she? It simply wasn’t possible to give voice to the abuse, and neglect, she suffered. Not for her, anyway, mind tortured by all she had done, all she had been forced to do. It was only due to an accident that she slipped away, the horrific thought of giving life to the thing growing in her body forcing her to run. And she ran, and ran, and didn’t stop running until she came to a police station.

The next six months was a blur, a cacophony of questions, sirens, and doctor offices. They took care of it, they questioned her, booked her, arrested her father- all done with a detached coldness. At the end, she went back with her mother; in the intervening years, she had gotten herself clean, made a life for herself, married a lawyer. It was a good life, a happy life- and one Jessica didn’t fit in. She was no longer the girl her mother had raised. Addicted to drugs and alcohol, cold, detached, and sarcastic, it was only a mere six months later that Jessica figured it would be better to leave, spare her family the “inconvenience” of her suffering. It was the dead of night when she left, taking with her the contents of her family’s wallets (and liquor cabinets). Her plan; leave, leave this state, fly to gods know where. Start over.

Florida was her ultimate destination, a land that, on paper, seemed to welcome the broken and the destitute. It was all over the papers; the crime rate, the jobless, the criminal caste taking over the streets. There, it would be easy for her to blend in, lose herself in sensation, put her past behind her. For the first time in a long time, she was looking forward to something other than her next hit. She had a plan, you see, laid out in her mind. Get out of the airport, find a forest or a park somewhere, and make a home … but like all plans, it went awry. She, in her young naivete, didn’t plan on predators, hunting prey like her, runaways, with nowhere else to go. Recruiters, they called themselves, picking her up almost as soon as she got off the plane. They were here to help, they said, they know girls like her. She can make money, get off her feet, with no judgement on anything she wishes to do.

She had every right to be skeptical.

The moment she got in the car, they stripped her, taking her wallet, her clothes, forcing her to pleasure them the entire ride. They taunted her, calling her all sorts of horrible names, covering her with all sorts of liquids until they arrived, a little joint off the beaten path. Ushered inside, she was shocked at the site; young women, all wearing nothing and covered in various fluids, standing cramped in a room like cattle. She was terrified, exhausted, hungover- Jessica was seized by a sudden desire to just go home, she wanted her mom, her sisters, even her step-dad. Forced to stand, and then march into a truck, Jessica only knew one thing; she couldn’t stay here. Almost like deja vu, as they filed into the truck, she ran; adrenaline coursing through her veins, psychosis pounding in her head, and enraged shouts on her heels, she ran until she couldn’t run anymore. The last thing she remembered before she blacked out was a confused shout and swirling lights …

She woke, in a hospital bed, cleaned and refreshed, physically at least. The moon shone bright through the window, calender on the wall showing March 13th; with a start, she realized it was her birthday. She was an adult now, and with that realization came fear. What if her mom tried to charge her with theft? What if her dad came looking for her? She couldn’t stay here! She left, dressing in her clothes and climbing out the window. Another plan came to her. It would require patience, but she could do it. In the meantime … beer.

Under a fake name, she joined the Marines; they are always desperate for recruits, of course. In boot camp, she excelled. Though a shell of who she once was, the constant exercise and exertion leaving her too tired to think of the horrors in her past. Soon, as her years through the service led on, the memories faded into nothing but a distant horror. Soon she was close to what destiny had in mind for her; virtuous, honorable, kind, even if it was mollified by a somewhat vicious and pessimistic world view. However, her cool head, calm outer shell, and ability to focus on what is important made her an excellent leader, and soon she rose up into the ranks. After proving exemplary service in the Marine Corps, she was sent on a special assignment.

It went south quickly.

She doesn’t remember much of what happened; only pain, and lots of it. Her next memory is nearly three weeks later. She was thirsty, and she remembered trying to reach for a glass of water, and being puzzled why it didn’t work. Doctors and nurses rushed into the room, to calm her, explain to her what happened; there had been an explosion, and the men she had served with, had been like family to her, had died. She had barely escaped with her life; blown clear of the carriage, she had avoided the deadly fireball that followed. However, the trauma had rendered her limbs unusable. They had to amputate.

She was a burden, a waste, and this knowledge drew her into a black pit of hellish depression she was afraid she would never escape from. No light, no happiness, existed for her, only the knowledge that she would never walk again, never feel the sand on her feet, never be able to hold her child in her arms. These same thoughts circled her head, like a circuit. She was a waste, she should be dead, survivor’s guilt eating her alive. There was no hope for her, with no husband, no family, no friends to take care of her. She was all alone in this world.

Then, a ray of light in the form of a woman, in the dead of night. Jessica tried to sit up, to see her better, but it did no good; what little the pale moonlight showed was obscured by a mask of some kind. The woman said nothing, only met her eyes, bright blue eyes sparkling. And then she placed a card. It was simple, apparently; golden and flecked with silver, with light blue words emblazoned on it; Olympus, Make Your Dreams Come True. A phone number was underneath it. This was placed gently on the bedside table; Jessica blinked, and the Woman was gone again.

When morning came, Jessica would think she dreamed it, were it not for the card there. A nurse she trusted dialed the number, and the conversation changed her life. She was transferred to an Osiris Labs facility, where she underwent painful, sometimes excruciating, surgery, to prep her for a “life-changing event.” This proved to be true; the experimental Project Camelot. She wasn’t ready, not yet, and thus underwent surgery, reinforcing her muscles, augmenting her brain, preparing her for the future.

And then one day, it happened, and Jessica stepped forward as the leader of the Blackguard.


1. Reaction
2. Agility
3. Endurance
4. Strength



Cybernetic Augmentations: Due to an extensive injury in her time in the Marines, Blackguard has replaced her limbs, and a significant portion of her internal organs, with cybernetic replacements. This has left her with phantom pain in her hips and shoulders, but also a significant increase in speed, strength, and reaction speed, raising all three to superhuman levels. She can jump three stories straight up, react instantly, and is agile enough to leap off of falling debris (potentially). Due to augmentations in her lungs and heart, she is capable of holding her breath for up to thirty minutes without suffering ill effects. Implants in her hypothalamus and frontal cortex allow her total recall of all events, and implants on her eyes and optic eye act as a HUD, similar to what is found in the armor of the Blackguard. These enhancements allow for visual enhancement up to a mile and automatic stabilization of firearms and the like for ranged combat. Her skeletal structure is reinforced with a unique metal, as is her musculature, allowing her to perform these superhuman feats without risk of damaging her more fragile parts.
A curious feature to note is the lack of distinct joints or moving parts within the cybernetics limbs. This is due to her limbs being made from the IM-R.

Project Camelot: The pinnacle of technology present in Osiris Industries, Project Camelot was the reason Jessica was recruited to Blackguard in the first place. In its simplest form, Camelot is an exosuit, enhancing the physical abilities of its wearer many times over. When not in use, Camelot takes the form of two simple wristbands on Jessica’s wrists. By sending a signal with the implant in her frontal cortex, however, Camelot forms. It takes approximately thirty seconds to form, enveloping her hands first in circuitry before spreading to the rest of her body. Project Camelot is, in many ways, bare bones when it comes to coverage. Gloves, connecting to plated pauldrons that in turn connect to a neckpiece. A breastplate with skirt cover her chest and upper thighs, which connect to boots to complete the outfit.
Camelot sacrifices defensive power for offensive capability; while activated, this exosuit drastically increases the physical capabilities of Jessica, transforming her into the hero Camelot. Her strength is most notably increasing, putting her on par with mid-level superheroes of the same power. Lifting a car clear in the air is a casual matter for Camelot. Her speed, as well, is enhanced, the powerful legs of this exosuit allowing her to run faster at 120MPH. The armor itself is highly durable, capable of withstanding a tank round without a scratch. The unique nano-molecular structure and non-newtonian lining absorbs and disperses the force from such powerful blows, leaving Jessica unharmed even from the blunt force.
Project Camelot is a union of two different experimental technologies; the Contained Spatial Field Generator, a piece of space folded in on itself contained within a magnetic field for energy, and the Infinite Micro-Refinery, a microscopic factory that converts energy to matter to create the nano-machines that allow Project Camelot to exist in its current state.

Nano-Molecular Reconstruction: Jessica has developed some form of control over the IM-R, a form of psychic link between the countless machines and the implant in her brain. This control is precise enough to manipulate the nano-machines to specific portions of her body, specifically her cybernetic limbs, to change their functionality. A long, complicated process shortened, Nano-Molecular Reconstruction can rebuild her limbs as weapons or utility tools. Everything from swords and shields, to grappling hooks and even advanced machines such as radiation scanners and GPS systems. These Reconstructed limbs have the same durability as her typical appendages.


Electronics and Magnetism: Despite it’s highly advanced nature, her cybernetic advancements are susceptible to many of the same dangers as modern-day electronics. EMP’s and magnetism can take her out of commission; and while the metal is immune to traditional erosion, powers and magics that could cause such an effect will still affect them. Spatial manipulation can affect the power source located in her chest and as a result, shut her down.

Phantom Pain: As imperfect prosthesis’, Jessica still suffers from Phantom Pain Syndrome. While occasional and manageable most of the time, excessive activity tends to make it flare up. Activity such as running and jumping, or muscular activity due to exercise, don’t cause flare-ups; however, maneuvering through combat, dodging gunfire, and performing other superhuman behaviors can cause pain. This pain ranges from extremely painful to totally debilitating. Having dealt with it for so long, Jessica has a good sense of when and where it’ll occur, but can still do nothing for the pain, as pain killers accomplish nothing. Mechanically speaking, in combat situations, Jessica will deal with moderate pain in her limbs for two posts for every three posts of activity; if she continues to engage in combat, this pain will worsen, eventually forcing her body to shut down from the pain.

Damaged Goods: Jessica is … damaged. Not just physically, but mentally as well. She still bears the scars of her traumatic childhood, her time in the military only serving to exacerbate what was already present. She finds it hard to trust even her teammates and friends and will constantly be on guard. While this is hard on a social standpoint, more pressing are the immediate reactions she has if somebody touching her. Like a stray cat, if someone touches her without her knowledge or permission, a panic attack will ensue, which typically involves lots of flailing limbs and quite possibly a gun. Most damning, however, is her aversion to loud noise; this goes beyond just explosions. Even loud music makes her incredibly uncomfortable and forces her to lose her focus rather easily. This is a result of the cybernetic enhancements cataloguing her memories for perfect recall.

”Avalon” Phase: Project Camelot isn’t perfect; like most of the devices she carries, it’s still in the experimental phase. It possesses several flaws that have yet to be corrected due to physical limitations. The first of these is a time limit; Project Camelot takes thirty seconds to fully form, during which it is highly vulnerable, the wires and inner mechanisms forming before the ablative armor.

Not Quite Bulletproof: Though portions of her body are made of highly durable, artificial materials, the majority of her body is still human. Her reinforced skeletal and muscular enhancements can stop a bullet, sure, but that’s only in the best case scenarios. Her skin and most of her organs are flesh and blood and can still be damaged and injured. Additionally, high caliber rounds, or rounds specifically designed to pierce armor and metal, can still penetrate her augmentations.


None.


See “Blackguard”


A side effect of the treatments used to give her cybernetic augmentations has rendered her immune to the effects of age, though she isn’t ageless.