Mood Music:



Player Name: The Bogus Byrd Man

Character You Wish To Play: The one man that's the realest of the real, the one smooth brother that makes all the women squeal. I'm talking about the baddest mofo that ever fought with righteous rage: The Harlem crusader Luke Cage

Moral Alignment: Hero, ya dig?

Affiliation: Cage ain't the type of brother to be attached to anyone's hip bone. When it comes to teams, that brother works alone.

Character Origin & Backstory:

The story of Luke Cage can be told in verse. The early days are when his life went from bad to worse. Carl Lucas, a would be gangster working around Harlem town, working as a strongarm lackey to that Willis Styrker clown. Styrker had Harlem tight in his grasp, strangling the community with his criminal clasp. Young Luke fell for Lenore, Stryker's sweetheart. Styrker went mad with jealousy, his sanity fell apart. One day Carl was headed home when he got stopped, ya dig? It was two NYPD uniforms and a detective pig. They ran Carl in because an eyeball witness, the man said Carl was around a murder scene the night before and acting suspicious. Carl's fingerprints matched the ones on a piece, so he was arrested for murder by the police. A swift trial commenced, so fast you couldn't blink. The end result was predictable, Carl sentenced to life in the clink. Carl's heart was tortured, his spirit maimed. He knew that he was framed.

Ten years in the slammer seemed to rapidly pass, all the while outside Stryker's kingdom gained mass. Losing hope on getting out and his prospects dim, Carl decided to volunteer for a project most grim. An experiment to create the durability of a famous super-soilder ended in disaster thanks to an evil poacher. Carl lay in a science chamber, his body resting, when a vindictive guard broke in to where they were testing. The guard smashed the console and dial. The chamber began sparking, its insides filling with bile. A massive explosion rocked the prison then, a force that was like a keg of dynamite times ten. The guard, the doctor, and the whole experiment were lost in the detonation, nothing could survive that great conflagration.

Out of the fiery rubble and debris a lone figure came crawling. It was a naked Carl Lucas who ran, his own ass he was hauling. He ran into the woods to avoid any guards. Through some odd happenstance he was now out behind bars. What's more his whole body seemed unreal. The explosion hadn't hurt him, his body tougher than steel. With new powers at his command and ten years spent spurned, he set his sights for Harlem and home he did return.

Once home he started a crusade for payback, Willis Stryker and his criminal rackets were prime for attack. A new life and fresh start he had acquired. Carl Lucas was dead, believed perished in that fire. Soon after coming home he sought out his former love Lenore. He was shattered when he discovered she was no more. She had died six years back, overdosing from mainlining pure smack. He made a promise that day, for letting her die Stryker would pay. Adopting the alias Luke Cage, he tore up Harlem fueled by his powers and rage. It didn't take long for Stryker to get mad. He put out a million dollar hit for Luke Cage, man he wanted that brother reaaal bad. Cage tore trough Styrker's men like butter, setting the residents of Harlem's hearts aflutter. For a long time now they had needed a defender to help them thrive, but Cage didn't want none of that jive! He wasn't a hero to speak for the masses, he just wanted to kick Styrker and his men's asses.

Cage dispatched Styrker's men at their nightclub without breaking a sweat. They were the bad mothers, but to him they proved to be no threat. Cage finally set his sights on Styrker, that villain. The two fought each other, both intent on killin'. Stryker tried his best to fight off his former friend, but the steel skinned man was too much to defend. Desperate to kill and half crazed, Stryker decided to kill both he and Cage in a massive blaze. Up went his nightclub in a red hot spire. Nobody was getting out of that fire. If you think that's the end of this story and Cage is dead, then what the hell's wrong with your head? Out of the fire came Cage choking, unharmed and unhurt but his body smoking. While he came out of the fire okay, Stryker had been consumed in the infero's fray.

Gathered around the blazing hulk were the people of Harlem so grateful, they were glad to be rid of the crime boss that was so hateful. In the embers of the building Cage watched it burn, while a feeling inside him did churn. His vengeance was complete now that Stryker had died, but he still felt hollow and empty inside. That day Cage made a solemn vow, he would change his life and his ways somehow. From that day forward he decided to work for the people as best he could, writing wrongs and injustices in the 'hood. If you need help and your situation is dire, then you can always call Luke Cage: Hero for Hire.

Powers and Abilities (What can you're character do? What can't they do?): Cage has street hero level super strength and steel-hardened skin

Sample Post:

SAMPLE IS NOT IN CONTINUITY.

Hero for Hire Offices
Harlem

"Let's have a seat."

I sat down behind my desk and stretched out. The man across the desk from me isn't my usual clientele. A sharp suit that looked like it's cufflinks cost more than most people around here make in a year. He had that sneer that comes with being born into privilege and class.

"Alright," I said. "What's going on?"

"Before I get into that," Phillips said, pulling a pen and checkbook from his jacket. "I want to pay you a retainer in advance, to let you know I am serious about employing your services."

Phillips hastily filled out the check and passed it over.

"Wait," I said, taking the check. "My usual retainer fee is...," I stopped talking when I saw the amount on the check. "...that's a good chunk of change. Please tell me you don't want me to kill the president or something? I mean, rich white guy wanting to pay a brother this much, something's up.."

"No," Phillips laughed. "Nothing like that. Last night, there was a break-in at the governor's Manhattan home. Among the things stolen was a USB flash drive with some sensitive information was taken from it. I want you to retrieve it. As you can tell by that check, the governor and I are very serious about getting it back."

"And you work for the governor?" I asked, placing the check down on the desk.

"Of a sort. I'm one of her largest campaign contributors and help with... sticky situations like the one we now find ourselves in."

"What's on the drive?"

"I'm not paying you that much," he said with a smug smirk.

"Well, what can you tell me?"

"Are you familiar with Sam Lamport?"

I shook my head.

"Sam Lamport is the president of the New York City teamsters union. He's been butting heads with the governor. She's tough on unions, trying to cut their benefits, and Lamport doesn't like it. A few nights ago, they were both at this charity event downtown. He and the governor got into it, there was raised voices verging on shouting. Suddenly, there's this break in at her house."

"...Right. But about what's on it--"

"Far as you're concerned you don't need to know what's on it." Then he stared to look at me with a cold and dispassionate gaze I'm sure he reserved for all the hired help. "That's what the bonus is for. Just get it back without any questions asked."

"Yeah," I shrugged. "The money's cool, but I don't feel comfortable taking a job without knowing what I'm getting into."

"Alright," Phillips said with a sigh. "In case you haven't been following the news, the governor is a major up and comer. This time next year, she'll be in Washington. Secretary of State, fourth in line is the worse case scenario, so you can imagine best case scenario there. The things on that USB drive could ruin her career, which is why discretion is the key here. Get it back, stop any potential blackmailers, and you get paid. Even better, you'll have a powerful politician who will owe you a favor. Sounds like a win-win to me..."

"And for what you're paying," Luke added with a grin,"I'd probably even throw a screw or two in there."

"Just the drive, please."

"Alright, I'm on it..."

Two Hours Later
The Handlebar
Spanish Harlem

"AHHH!"

I crashed through the glass window of the bar, smacking against the sidewalk outside and sliding to a stop on the street. "Sweet Christmas," I mumbled under my breath. A few feet away, glass crunched underfoot as the large, albino man loomed over me.

"Luke fucking Cage," Lonnie Lincoln, aka Tombstone, spat. "What happened to that strength of yours?"

"Sorry, must have-- must have got worn out last night, giving to your momma."

Tombstone roared and moved to stomp. I rolled out the way and sprang up, knocking him back with an uppercut. The blow shot Lincoln back through the broken window and into a row of booths lined along the bar's far wall. Tombstone's skin is tough as concrete. Mine's as tough as steel. Wanna know why they don't make hammers out of concrete? That punch should answer your question. I stepped through the window and grabbed the reeling thug.

"There was a break-in last night in Midtown, Tombstone. I know you know about it, dawg. Don't even front. You're gonna talk, sucka..."