Art by Christina Cartwright

Birth Name

Dinah Geof-Craigs

Born

February 12, 1977

Abilities

Dinah not only has a five-octave singing range, but she also has sonic abilities. She can emit a piercing shriek capable of bursting eardrums. She can also generate physically damaging sonic blasts.

Affiliations

None.

Biography

Dinah is from a parallel Earth similar to our own. As a girl, she pursued her love of music, moving to San Francisco and forming a band. At age 23, they released their first album. The name, Dynasonic, was one she also used in her very limited metahuman activities. The band’s first two albums failed to do much, but their third made them known. Superstardom followed with their next three releases.

Click to read a full discography of the band.

Personality

Despite her international fame, Dinah is an easy-going and friendly person unafraid of being recognized and spoken to in public.

Excerpt from Redemption

My scalp itched under the blonde wig, but it was worth it. Passing for her got me into The Fillmore hours before her show was to begin. I got a couple surprised looks from staff in the hallway, but figured that was because they weren’t expecting “me” this early. 

But, in fact, it was because “I” was already there. The band was on stage doing sound checks. I froze in my tracks, then stepped back out into the hallway and headed for the stairs up to the balcony level, where I planted myself in one of the sitting alcoves, out of sight of the band.

This plunged me into another rush of doubt. Why was I doing this? It was supremely stupid. And risky. I’d found out enough from my first visit to satisfy my curiosity, hadn’t I? I’d already heard their music from their website, so I didn’t really need to be here, did I? 

Dana would probably have some suitable psychoanalysis about my need to feel better about myself by having a positive “me” in another world to balance out the psycho bitch “me” now imprisoned back in her own world. 

But Dana analyzes things too much. I was just here to enjoy seeing “myself” in a concert. Wasn’t I? 

Just then, a piercing screech of feedback assaulted me. It was so strong, so loud, so painful that I plugged my ears with my fingers and huddled back into the corner, shoulders hunched, trying to block it out any way I could. It lasted for what seemed minutes, but was probably only a few seconds. 

When it ceased, I slumped there, eyes shut, ears ringing, and head aching. “Okay,” I muttered, “you need a new sound guy.” My voice seemed distant to me. 

I opened my eyes and was startled to see a leather-clad figure standing in front of me. It was Dynasonic herself. She was frowning, arms crossed, studying me. Panic rose inside me and I froze. I sat there, staring up at her. Eventually, I worked up the ability to speak. “Um, hi.”