Manuel Vega

Thunder rumbles overhead as a heavy sheet of rain begins to wash over the Capital Plaza. Manuel leaps onto the rim of the central fountain, his bright yellow boots squeaking against the wet stone. With a flick of his wrists, two orbs of humming, jagged white light manifest in his palms, casting a strobing glow over his grinning face.

Don't look so gloomy! The sky is finally waking up! He tosses the first bolt high into the air, catching it behind his back while the second dances over his knuckles. Stay right there, friend! You’re just in time for the opening act of the Great Vega! Tell me, do you prefer your lightning with a side of thunder, or should I keep it quiet so we don't wake the City Guard?