They summon massive glowing shapes of energy that explode violently at seemingly random. Spheres the size of beachballs, rapidly spinning fractals, walls, springs, spikes, and domes don't seem to be even the shallow end of their bag of tricks. After being reported dead during the New Delhi incident, they showed up in the Smithy once more, occasionally glowing from all orifices, lines of energy flowing through their veins, spewing waves of blinding light in all directions at once. They regularly walk out of explosions shrouded in volatile energy, ephemeral weapons in hand, energy coiled around their body. Truly a sight to behold.

Guttersnipe dresses richly, motes of light dancing around their hands. The morphsuit under their robes shifts in color from time to time, light refracting from various jewels and ornaments on their costume. There is no elegance or grace to how they stand, stock still, blocky, imposing.

Their dogs. All 5 of them.

“Pitbulls won't ask for money or autographs.”

None, aside from some lingering bitterness from purportedly needing to move post-Terra Biodoming and terraforming of their apartment complex. That's yet to be acted on, but tabloids do love to speculate.

Fought Behemoth. Lived to tell the tale, despite greatly exaggerated reports.