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GreenGrenade
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[ ⚡️ ] T H E O R I G I N A L [ ⚡️ ]
Jason Peter Garrick was born in the blue-collar capital of the United States, Keystone City, as World War Two entered its second year. His mother passing away as he entered his toddler years, Jay often spent his days at the neighbouring Shapiro household as his father, Joseph, struggled to make ends meet at the Keystone Motors assembly line. There he befriended Elliot, the youngest Shapiro – of the same age as each other, together they developed an interest in science, Jay becoming enraptured by it. Whenever Joseph would come home from work, the young Garrick would pester his father into taking him to the Keystone Science Museum, a trip Joseph was glad to undertake; what little time he got to spend with his son was precious to him, and he wouldn’t have been fit to call himself a good father had he denied Jay his passion.
Jay was particularly interested in physics. One of his fondest memories of high school, brushing aside his first kiss, drink, and car, was a class excursion to Dr. Garrison Slate’s lab, located at a large facility not far from the Van Buren Bridge – Central City, tall and bright, stretched over the horizon on the other side of the Missouri River. It was there, in the place that would later become S.T.A.R. Labs, that Jay was introduced to the truly theoretical side of physics: antimatter, dark energy, M-theory and string theory, to name a few – concepts that flew over his fellow peers’ heads, but only served to intensify the flame that burned for science in his heart.
After graduating from Keystone High School, Jay and Elliot began their tertiary education at Midwestern University. Recently turned eighteen, Jay wanted to waste no time on vacation – knowledge waits for no man, after all. It was a stupid saying, all things considered, but it was amusing; worth the exasperation he got out of Elliot each time he said it, that much was certain.
It was during his college years that Jay met the two people that would come to define his life in very different ways: Edward Clariss and Joan Williams. Studying chemistry and physics, Jay met Eddie in class. An aspiring scientist like himself, Eddie became a fast friend with Jay, the two bonding over their passion for the uncertain. They, along with Elliot, became inseparable over time, a trio of friends that rarely drifted from one another. Whenever they could make room for some free time, be it from school or from work (Jay had begun interning at Dr. Slate’s lab), they would frequent a local café not far from the university; when their twenty-first birthdays came, they migrated to the neighbouring bar, O’Shaughnessy’s. On one of their countless visits, Jay met the woman that would go on to become his wife. Joan Williams was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Blond hair curled neatly just below her shoulders, her blue eyes met his from across the room – he asked her out on a date that night, and on many nights following. It wasn’t too long before they got serious.
By the time Jay, Eddie and Elliot received their doctorates, Garrison Slate’s lab had been expanded and reopened as S.T.A.R. Labs. The trio all managed to land jobs there, earning a steady paycheck as they continued to study for their post-doctorates. It was then, in the hot summer of 1966, that the Accident occurred; a freak accident, with a one-in-a-million chance of actually happening – Jay wasn’t even in a lab at the time. Storm clouds hanging low, he and Joan were leaving their apartment for dinner with Elliot and Eddie. Having forgotten his watch inside, Jay ran back to get it. The lightning struck him on his way outside.
Jay awoke at Keystone General Hospital the next day, apparently unscathed. With the doctors deeming his condition stable, he was released later that evening, Joan sending him straight to bed despite his protests. He soon discovered, however, that he wasn’t completely unchanged – he was now an embodiment of the theoretical that had occupied his mind since high school. Time slowed down at seemingly random intervals; his hands would shake faster than he could see them; and more shockingly than anything else, he could run from one point to another at speeds greater than that of a bullet. After his super-speed surfaced, Jay began assessing it, getting a feel for his powers. Sharing his secret with Elliot, Eddie and Joan, the former two helped run tests – they were just as fascinated by Jay’s abilities as he was, if not more. It was through these tests that Jay discovered that his speed came from a power source: an other-dimensional energy field which he called the Speed Force. Further studying its effects, he found that a heat-resistant fabric would not be necessary to protect his clothing from extreme friction, as what he dubbed the “Speed Force Aura” already took care of that hassle. It was a very happy convenience, that was certain, but it left Elliot a little annoyed, regardless, as he was forced to scrap his designs for a tripolymer material that would have done the job just as well.
After a few months of testing, Jay came clean to his friends and girlfriend about his intended use for his powers: helping others. Supported by the three of them, he assembled a costume: a long-sleeved red shirt with a lightning motif, a pair of jeans, red boots, and his grandfather’s World War One doughboy helmet, modified with a set of Mercury’s wings. In the November of 1966, Jay debuted on Keystone City’s streets as the first Flash.
He took to being a hero naturally, fitting into the role as easily as a hand fits into a glove. The Flash was loved all around Keystone – someone that its people knew they could count on. Whereas the Sandman was the terror of Gotham, Flash was the patron saint of Keystone. The only people that feared him were the criminals too slow to avoid him, which, in this case, happened to be every criminal in the city. His first true triumph over Keystone’s criminal element was his apprehension of Michael Krugor, the chess-obsessed crimelord who ruled over much of the city’s underworld. Although Krugor was a very intelligent man capable of forming strategies in the blink of an eye, his mind was too slow to keep up with Jay’s, and within the span of a few weeks he witnessed his empire get toppled by a scientist in a Halloween costume. After his triumph over Krugor’s organisation, Jay’s roster of enemies only grew both in number and power.
So occupied was Jay by his new responsibility as a superhero that he didn’t notice Eddie’s strange new behaviour. As the Flash’s fame grew, Eddie’s obsession with Jay’s powers did, too. Determined to replicate them, he began working on a substance called “Velocity,” using what he knew about the Speed Force as a baseline… keeping his friends in the dark.
Jay proposed to Joan in December, 1968, after just over a year as the Flash. They married not long after, the ceremony a small one, with only their close friends and immediate family in attendance. Elliot and Eddie shared the role of best man.
Shortly after Jay and Joan’s marriage, Jay encountered the mysterious “Mr. Black” as the Flash. An enigmatic man with the ability to manipulate the dark, Black took a special interest in Jay that saw him toying with the speedster for many years to come. Shade, as he would later come to call himself, proved to be one of Jay’s most formidable foes, made unpredictable by his unclear motivation, often leading Flash on wild goose chases, playing with his mind and his patience.
Jay was particularly interested in physics. One of his fondest memories of high school, brushing aside his first kiss, drink, and car, was a class excursion to Dr. Garrison Slate’s lab, located at a large facility not far from the Van Buren Bridge – Central City, tall and bright, stretched over the horizon on the other side of the Missouri River. It was there, in the place that would later become S.T.A.R. Labs, that Jay was introduced to the truly theoretical side of physics: antimatter, dark energy, M-theory and string theory, to name a few – concepts that flew over his fellow peers’ heads, but only served to intensify the flame that burned for science in his heart.
After graduating from Keystone High School, Jay and Elliot began their tertiary education at Midwestern University. Recently turned eighteen, Jay wanted to waste no time on vacation – knowledge waits for no man, after all. It was a stupid saying, all things considered, but it was amusing; worth the exasperation he got out of Elliot each time he said it, that much was certain.
It was during his college years that Jay met the two people that would come to define his life in very different ways: Edward Clariss and Joan Williams. Studying chemistry and physics, Jay met Eddie in class. An aspiring scientist like himself, Eddie became a fast friend with Jay, the two bonding over their passion for the uncertain. They, along with Elliot, became inseparable over time, a trio of friends that rarely drifted from one another. Whenever they could make room for some free time, be it from school or from work (Jay had begun interning at Dr. Slate’s lab), they would frequent a local café not far from the university; when their twenty-first birthdays came, they migrated to the neighbouring bar, O’Shaughnessy’s. On one of their countless visits, Jay met the woman that would go on to become his wife. Joan Williams was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Blond hair curled neatly just below her shoulders, her blue eyes met his from across the room – he asked her out on a date that night, and on many nights following. It wasn’t too long before they got serious.
By the time Jay, Eddie and Elliot received their doctorates, Garrison Slate’s lab had been expanded and reopened as S.T.A.R. Labs. The trio all managed to land jobs there, earning a steady paycheck as they continued to study for their post-doctorates. It was then, in the hot summer of 1966, that the Accident occurred; a freak accident, with a one-in-a-million chance of actually happening – Jay wasn’t even in a lab at the time. Storm clouds hanging low, he and Joan were leaving their apartment for dinner with Elliot and Eddie. Having forgotten his watch inside, Jay ran back to get it. The lightning struck him on his way outside.
Jay awoke at Keystone General Hospital the next day, apparently unscathed. With the doctors deeming his condition stable, he was released later that evening, Joan sending him straight to bed despite his protests. He soon discovered, however, that he wasn’t completely unchanged – he was now an embodiment of the theoretical that had occupied his mind since high school. Time slowed down at seemingly random intervals; his hands would shake faster than he could see them; and more shockingly than anything else, he could run from one point to another at speeds greater than that of a bullet. After his super-speed surfaced, Jay began assessing it, getting a feel for his powers. Sharing his secret with Elliot, Eddie and Joan, the former two helped run tests – they were just as fascinated by Jay’s abilities as he was, if not more. It was through these tests that Jay discovered that his speed came from a power source: an other-dimensional energy field which he called the Speed Force. Further studying its effects, he found that a heat-resistant fabric would not be necessary to protect his clothing from extreme friction, as what he dubbed the “Speed Force Aura” already took care of that hassle. It was a very happy convenience, that was certain, but it left Elliot a little annoyed, regardless, as he was forced to scrap his designs for a tripolymer material that would have done the job just as well.
After a few months of testing, Jay came clean to his friends and girlfriend about his intended use for his powers: helping others. Supported by the three of them, he assembled a costume: a long-sleeved red shirt with a lightning motif, a pair of jeans, red boots, and his grandfather’s World War One doughboy helmet, modified with a set of Mercury’s wings. In the November of 1966, Jay debuted on Keystone City’s streets as the first Flash.
He took to being a hero naturally, fitting into the role as easily as a hand fits into a glove. The Flash was loved all around Keystone – someone that its people knew they could count on. Whereas the Sandman was the terror of Gotham, Flash was the patron saint of Keystone. The only people that feared him were the criminals too slow to avoid him, which, in this case, happened to be every criminal in the city. His first true triumph over Keystone’s criminal element was his apprehension of Michael Krugor, the chess-obsessed crimelord who ruled over much of the city’s underworld. Although Krugor was a very intelligent man capable of forming strategies in the blink of an eye, his mind was too slow to keep up with Jay’s, and within the span of a few weeks he witnessed his empire get toppled by a scientist in a Halloween costume. After his triumph over Krugor’s organisation, Jay’s roster of enemies only grew both in number and power.
So occupied was Jay by his new responsibility as a superhero that he didn’t notice Eddie’s strange new behaviour. As the Flash’s fame grew, Eddie’s obsession with Jay’s powers did, too. Determined to replicate them, he began working on a substance called “Velocity,” using what he knew about the Speed Force as a baseline… keeping his friends in the dark.
Jay proposed to Joan in December, 1968, after just over a year as the Flash. They married not long after, the ceremony a small one, with only their close friends and immediate family in attendance. Elliot and Eddie shared the role of best man.
Shortly after Jay and Joan’s marriage, Jay encountered the mysterious “Mr. Black” as the Flash. An enigmatic man with the ability to manipulate the dark, Black took a special interest in Jay that saw him toying with the speedster for many years to come. Shade, as he would later come to call himself, proved to be one of Jay’s most formidable foes, made unpredictable by his unclear motivation, often leading Flash on wild goose chases, playing with his mind and his patience.
[ ⚡️ ] T H E H E R O [ ⚡️ ]
[ ⚡️ ] T H E M A N I N Y E L L O W [ ⚡️ ]
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[ ⚡️ ] T H E L E G E N D [ ⚡️ ]
[ ⚡️ ] D R E A M E R [ ⚡️ ]
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GreenGrenade
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
"I wouldn't try that... I'm Invincible."
M A R K U S G R A Y S O N ♦ 1 9 9 8 ( 1 9 ) ♦ M A L E ♦ C H A O T I C G O O D
C O N C E P T A B S T R A C T:
With Mark, I want to write a coming-of-age story. He’s a hero that’s always trying to find his place in the world – hell, the universe – unsure of whether the way he goes about things is the right way, and of whether the burden he brings onto the ones he loves, and society as a whole, is worth all his efforts. Even with Superman’s mentorship, he’s going to struggle with being Invincible; with knowing that his father is a threat, not an ally; and with all of the troubles he’ll be forced to face, and put his family and friends through.
No matter what kind of person Mark turns into, be it a hero or a villain, I just want to tell a good story with a character I love.
No matter what kind of person Mark turns into, be it a hero or a villain, I just want to tell a good story with a character I love.
N O T E S:
The timeline's pretty underwhelming in terms of writing, but it should give everyone an idea of Mark's background.
◼ 1987 | Nolan of Viltrum arrives on Earth. After months of observing humanity as an outsider, he is approached by Cecil Stedman, director of the Global Defence Agency. Explaining that he was sent by Viltrum’s World Betterment Committee to help Earth’s inhabitants, Nolan is welcomed by Cecil, who helps him assimilate into human society. Nolan of Viltrum becomes Nolan Grayson, and he begins protecting the world as Omni-Man, an identity created for him by the G.D.A. and their contact, Arthur Rosenbaum.
◼ 1991 | Nolan meets the woman that would become his wife while saving her from a one-time supervillain on a rampage.
◼ 1995 | Newlyweds Nolan and Deborah Grayson move to Baltimore, MD.
◼ 1998 | Markus Grayson is born. Nolan’s science fiction novels sell well enough to provide a steady flow of income.
◼ 2005 | Nolan tells Mark of his Viltrumite origins, explaining the World Betterment Committee. Mark begins anticipating the day he’ll receive his powers.
◼ 2006 | The Dominators invade. Omni-Man assists in Earth’s defence as the invaders crush his allies, and he is temporarily recruited by Amanda Waller into A.R.G.U.S.’s counter force, much to Cecil’s chagrin. They defeat the Dominators, and Nolan leaves the team that’s now been dubbed the “Avengers.”
◼ 2007 | The G.D.A.’s answer to the Avengers is formed. The Guardians of the Globe debut, their roster consisting of the Immortal, Black Samson, Green Ghost, Red Rush, Johnny Thunder, Guardian, Crimson Fox and Nightshade. Omni-Man is offered a position, which, like his recruitment to the Avengers, he declines, instead becoming an honorary member.
◼ 2015 | Mark’s powers manifest while throwing out trash at his workplace, the local Big Belly Burger. He tells his parents that night at the dinner table. Over the next few days, he tests them out, before taking to Baltimore’s streets in a makeshift costume.
A short while later, Nolan takes him to Art Rosenbaum, who’s happy to make Mark a proper outfit. Using Mark’s chosen alias, Invincible, as a starting point, Art soon comes up with a design that sings.
Invincible meets the Teen Team while on patrol – among their members, Atom Eve, a girl he recognises from school. Approaching her the next day during lunch, they strike up a friendship, Invincible becoming an ally of the Teen Team.
As the year draws to a close, the Guardians of the Globe are murdered at their headquarters. Mark and Nolan attend their funeral – much of the superhero community is there. Their killer is not found until March 16th.
◼ March 16th, 2016 | The Immortal comes back to life, his body reassembled by the villainous Mauler Twins. Overcome by rage, he bursts out of the Maulers’ hideout in search of Omni-Man, attacking him on live television. Back in Baltimore, Mark sees the ensuing fight and rushes to help his father, finding him in the sky – his arm punching a hole in Immortal’s body. As the fallen hero plummets to the ground below, Nolan tells Mark the truth about his heritage.
There is no such thing as the World Betterment Committee – the Viltrum Empire is not a utopian society, but rather a warrior race dedicated to expanding their territory by force. Nolan didn’t come to Earth to help humanity, he came there to subjugate it to Viltrumite rule – or otherwise decimate it in its entirety. He asks Mark to join him.
Mark doesn’t.
Their fight is televised. They leave terrible destruction in their wake, and in the end, Mark is left immobile, his father preparing to deliver the killing blow. It never comes. Nolan Grayson flies away, leaving Earth’s atmosphere, disappearing in the vacuum of space.
◼ 2017 | Now.
◼ 1991 | Nolan meets the woman that would become his wife while saving her from a one-time supervillain on a rampage.
◼ 1995 | Newlyweds Nolan and Deborah Grayson move to Baltimore, MD.
◼ 1998 | Markus Grayson is born. Nolan’s science fiction novels sell well enough to provide a steady flow of income.
◼ 2005 | Nolan tells Mark of his Viltrumite origins, explaining the World Betterment Committee. Mark begins anticipating the day he’ll receive his powers.
◼ 2006 | The Dominators invade. Omni-Man assists in Earth’s defence as the invaders crush his allies, and he is temporarily recruited by Amanda Waller into A.R.G.U.S.’s counter force, much to Cecil’s chagrin. They defeat the Dominators, and Nolan leaves the team that’s now been dubbed the “Avengers.”
◼ 2007 | The G.D.A.’s answer to the Avengers is formed. The Guardians of the Globe debut, their roster consisting of the Immortal, Black Samson, Green Ghost, Red Rush, Johnny Thunder, Guardian, Crimson Fox and Nightshade. Omni-Man is offered a position, which, like his recruitment to the Avengers, he declines, instead becoming an honorary member.
◼ 2015 | Mark’s powers manifest while throwing out trash at his workplace, the local Big Belly Burger. He tells his parents that night at the dinner table. Over the next few days, he tests them out, before taking to Baltimore’s streets in a makeshift costume.
A short while later, Nolan takes him to Art Rosenbaum, who’s happy to make Mark a proper outfit. Using Mark’s chosen alias, Invincible, as a starting point, Art soon comes up with a design that sings.
Invincible meets the Teen Team while on patrol – among their members, Atom Eve, a girl he recognises from school. Approaching her the next day during lunch, they strike up a friendship, Invincible becoming an ally of the Teen Team.
As the year draws to a close, the Guardians of the Globe are murdered at their headquarters. Mark and Nolan attend their funeral – much of the superhero community is there. Their killer is not found until March 16th.
◼ March 16th, 2016 | The Immortal comes back to life, his body reassembled by the villainous Mauler Twins. Overcome by rage, he bursts out of the Maulers’ hideout in search of Omni-Man, attacking him on live television. Back in Baltimore, Mark sees the ensuing fight and rushes to help his father, finding him in the sky – his arm punching a hole in Immortal’s body. As the fallen hero plummets to the ground below, Nolan tells Mark the truth about his heritage.
There is no such thing as the World Betterment Committee – the Viltrum Empire is not a utopian society, but rather a warrior race dedicated to expanding their territory by force. Nolan didn’t come to Earth to help humanity, he came there to subjugate it to Viltrumite rule – or otherwise decimate it in its entirety. He asks Mark to join him.
Mark doesn’t.
Their fight is televised. They leave terrible destruction in their wake, and in the end, Mark is left immobile, his father preparing to deliver the killing blow. It never comes. Nolan Grayson flies away, leaving Earth’s atmosphere, disappearing in the vacuum of space.
Post-March 16th | Mark awakens two weeks later at the Global Defence Agency’s medical facilities. Cecil Stedman talks to him about his fight with Nolan, as does Amanda Waller, who departs soon afterwards. Mark is then visited by Batman and Superman of the Justice League. After he’s questioned about his father by the Dark Knight, Superman asks to talk to him in private. The Man of Steel gives him guidance and comfort that stays with Mark ever since, making him strive to be the best hero he could possibly be. After Batman and Superman leave, Cecil asks Mark to work for him as his father did. Mark agrees, and Invincible becomes an employee of the G.D.A.
Over the next few months, Superman checks up on Mark every once in a while to see how he’s doing. During one of those visits, he has company: Superboy and Supergirl, his protégés. It’s then that Mark learns that Superman is Clark Kent, and he’s welcomed to the family by the trio with open arms.
Over the next few months, Superman checks up on Mark every once in a while to see how he’s doing. During one of those visits, he has company: Superboy and Supergirl, his protégés. It’s then that Mark learns that Superman is Clark Kent, and he’s welcomed to the family by the trio with open arms.
◼ 2017 | Now.
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GreenGrenade
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B A T M A N
“My parents taught me a lesson, lying on this street, shaking in deep shock... dying for no reason at all. They showed me that the world only makes sense when you force it to.”
B R U C E W A Y N E ♦ 1 9 7 4 ( L A T E T H I R T I E S - M I D F O R T I E S ) ♦ M A L E ♦ C H A O T I C G O O D
C O N C E P T A B S T R A C T:
This is a version of Batman that I started writing for the third Maximum Comics. Unfortunately I didn’t get very far, but with Absolute I now have an opportunity to finish the story I started to tell.
The main difference between this Batman and any other iteration is that after twelve years of activity in Gotham (our story begins in 2012), he’s still an urban legend as far as the world is concerned. The only ones aware of his existence are the G.C.P.D., Gotham’s “elite” criminal element, Bruce’s closest allies and the Justice League, for whom he’s served as an unofficial liaison of sorts, keeping his name out of it for the sake of protecting his mythical status.
The stories I want to tell test Bruce mentally and physically. The first arc deals with him being thrust into the public eye, destroying the element of mystery and fear that he’s relied on for so long. Beyond that, he’ll be confronted by fears of his own; by family, love, and questions of his purpose.
I just want to try and tell a good Batman story, really.
The main difference between this Batman and any other iteration is that after twelve years of activity in Gotham (our story begins in 2012), he’s still an urban legend as far as the world is concerned. The only ones aware of his existence are the G.C.P.D., Gotham’s “elite” criminal element, Bruce’s closest allies and the Justice League, for whom he’s served as an unofficial liaison of sorts, keeping his name out of it for the sake of protecting his mythical status.
The stories I want to tell test Bruce mentally and physically. The first arc deals with him being thrust into the public eye, destroying the element of mystery and fear that he’s relied on for so long. Beyond that, he’ll be confronted by fears of his own; by family, love, and questions of his purpose.
I just want to try and tell a good Batman story, really.
N O T E S:
B A S I C T I M E L I N E:
◼ 1974 | Bruce Wayne is born four years after his older brother, Thomas Wayne Jr.
◼ 1982 | Thomas Sr. and Martha Wayne are murdered in the place that would come to be called Crime Alley. Bruce and Thomas Jr. watch on in horror. The killer is never caught.
◼ 1988 | Bruce and Tommy Jr. embark on a worldwide trek, training for a time when they’ll avenge their parents’ deaths.
◼ 2000 | Bruce returns to Gotham City alone. Months later, whispers of a bat-like terror shakes the city’s criminal underworld as the Roman Empire sustains crippling blows.
Desperate to blame someone for his empire’s imminent fall, Carmine Falcone turns his anger on James Gordon, the one problematic cop not yet on his payroll. Hiring Ray Salinger, a serial killer known as Birthday Boy, Falcone has Gordon’s daughter, Barbara, kidnapped. Batman tracks her down and rescues her, delivering Barbara into the arms of a grateful ally.
The Roman Empire falls not long after.
◼ 2003 | After witnessing a trapeze act go horribly wrong at Haly’s Circus, Bruce cuts his date with Victoria Vale short in order to comfort a boy that is left an orphan. He adopts Richard Grayson soon afterwards.
◼ 2004 | Dick Grayson debuts as Robin.
Jim Gordon is kidnapped. As Bruce busies himself with finding his ally, his search is cut short by the activation of the Batsignal. Summoning him to the Central Precinct, he is met there by a fifteen year-old Barbara Gordon, her kidnapping – and rescue – still fresh on her mind. Armed with footage of the Dark Knight (no doubt from one of her father’s case files) she demands that Batman help her get Jim back, lest she release it to the media and thus expose him to the public. Disapproving of her blackmail, but admiring her tenacity, Bruce agrees to let her tag along, provided that she did everything he told her to. Barbara and Jim Gordon return home safely that night.
A few nights later, Batman agrees to train Barbara, impressed by her levelheadedness and tenacity.
◼ 2005 | Batgirl debuts, helping Bruce free Robin from the Mad Hatter.
◼ 2008 | Barbara hangs up the cowl, moving onto college. She and Dick resume their relationship despite this.
◼ 2009 | The Justice League is formed in response to A.R.G.U.S.'s Avengers. Batman acts as their liaison, keeping his involvement under wraps in order to protect his mythical status.
◼ 2011 | Gotham suffers a severe earthquake, damaging much of the city and killing thousands. Bruce starts the Wayne Foundation to provide for those who’ve been affected.
This tragedy is soon followed by another, starting with the kidnapping of three infants. Over the next few months, dozens more are taken from their homes. All evidence the G.C.P.D. uncovers point towards a human trafficking ring, with Harvey Bullock theorising that the babies are being sold to parents who think they were simply adopting. However, when investigating, Bruce uncovers evidence that doesn’t match Bullock’s hypothesis, and decides to follow the lead himself, keeping the police out of the loop.
His search for clues takes him all over Gotham, and all the while, more infants are being kidnapped; determined to find them before any harm can come to them, Bruce pushes himself harder than he ever has before, nights blending into days before he loses track of time completely. Eventually he finds the location of where the infants are being held, where he believes that they weren’t being sold off to families in the United States, but rather, overseas. What he believes to be good, legitimate detective work leads him to an abandoned warehouse in Gotham’s neighbouring city of Blüdhaven. Tipping Jim Gordon off to be ready at the scene, Batman goes inside.
What he sees would traumatise him for months – years – to come. A large pit, dug into the centre of the warehouse. Inside it, the dismembered bodies of all the kidnapped infants, of every baby taken over the last few months. And at the edge of the pit, the monster behind it all – a man dressed in purple, his skin bleached as white as a ghost, with a shock of green hair… and that smile. The grotesque, red-streaked smile as he laughed, cackling at Bruce’s horror.
The Joker, he calls himself. He’s been manipulating Batman the entire time, he says – he always had a feeling that he was real, he was simply too crazy a thing not to be – leaving clues and evidence that would point him here, to the warehouse in Blüdhaven, where the punchline awaits him, and oh, is it a good one.
Bruce doesn’t know how to take it. Rage, pure, unbridled rage, flows through him, the sudden hatred he feels for the Joker unmatched by any other, not even by the hatred he had for his parents’ killer, whoever he may be. But there’s also something else, something he had never felt before during his time as Batman, never induced by his own, natural reactions: fear. Bruce is afraid. And he takes that fear, and that hatred, and that rage, the anger he feels for all those innocent lives lost, those lives barely lived, and he let it all out, hitting the Joker harder than he’d ever let himself hit anyone, over and over, until Jim bursts into the warehouse and pulls him away. All the while, the sadistic, twisted clown cheers him on. The Joker's face would haunt Bruce's dreams ever since.
◼ 2012 | Frustrated with the tight leash Bruce keeps on him, coupled with the man’s refusal to deal with the psychological damage that plagues him in a healthy manner, Dick leaves Gotham and Robin behind.
◼ 2013 | Batman encounters a group of thugs attacking a young boy in the Narrows. Taking pity on him, Bruce takes him to the Batcave to patch him up. When the boy wakes up, Bruce discovers that he's been living on the streets by himself. Revealing his identity, the billionaire offers him a place to live. Jason Todd is adopted soon after.
◼ 1974 | Bruce Wayne is born four years after his older brother, Thomas Wayne Jr.
◼ 1982 | Thomas Sr. and Martha Wayne are murdered in the place that would come to be called Crime Alley. Bruce and Thomas Jr. watch on in horror. The killer is never caught.
◼ 1988 | Bruce and Tommy Jr. embark on a worldwide trek, training for a time when they’ll avenge their parents’ deaths.
◼ 2000 | Bruce returns to Gotham City alone. Months later, whispers of a bat-like terror shakes the city’s criminal underworld as the Roman Empire sustains crippling blows.
Desperate to blame someone for his empire’s imminent fall, Carmine Falcone turns his anger on James Gordon, the one problematic cop not yet on his payroll. Hiring Ray Salinger, a serial killer known as Birthday Boy, Falcone has Gordon’s daughter, Barbara, kidnapped. Batman tracks her down and rescues her, delivering Barbara into the arms of a grateful ally.
The Roman Empire falls not long after.
◼ 2003 | After witnessing a trapeze act go horribly wrong at Haly’s Circus, Bruce cuts his date with Victoria Vale short in order to comfort a boy that is left an orphan. He adopts Richard Grayson soon afterwards.
◼ 2004 | Dick Grayson debuts as Robin.
Jim Gordon is kidnapped. As Bruce busies himself with finding his ally, his search is cut short by the activation of the Batsignal. Summoning him to the Central Precinct, he is met there by a fifteen year-old Barbara Gordon, her kidnapping – and rescue – still fresh on her mind. Armed with footage of the Dark Knight (no doubt from one of her father’s case files) she demands that Batman help her get Jim back, lest she release it to the media and thus expose him to the public. Disapproving of her blackmail, but admiring her tenacity, Bruce agrees to let her tag along, provided that she did everything he told her to. Barbara and Jim Gordon return home safely that night.
A few nights later, Batman agrees to train Barbara, impressed by her levelheadedness and tenacity.
◼ 2005 | Batgirl debuts, helping Bruce free Robin from the Mad Hatter.
◼ 2008 | Barbara hangs up the cowl, moving onto college. She and Dick resume their relationship despite this.
◼ 2009 | The Justice League is formed in response to A.R.G.U.S.'s Avengers. Batman acts as their liaison, keeping his involvement under wraps in order to protect his mythical status.
◼ 2011 | Gotham suffers a severe earthquake, damaging much of the city and killing thousands. Bruce starts the Wayne Foundation to provide for those who’ve been affected.
This tragedy is soon followed by another, starting with the kidnapping of three infants. Over the next few months, dozens more are taken from their homes. All evidence the G.C.P.D. uncovers point towards a human trafficking ring, with Harvey Bullock theorising that the babies are being sold to parents who think they were simply adopting. However, when investigating, Bruce uncovers evidence that doesn’t match Bullock’s hypothesis, and decides to follow the lead himself, keeping the police out of the loop.
His search for clues takes him all over Gotham, and all the while, more infants are being kidnapped; determined to find them before any harm can come to them, Bruce pushes himself harder than he ever has before, nights blending into days before he loses track of time completely. Eventually he finds the location of where the infants are being held, where he believes that they weren’t being sold off to families in the United States, but rather, overseas. What he believes to be good, legitimate detective work leads him to an abandoned warehouse in Gotham’s neighbouring city of Blüdhaven. Tipping Jim Gordon off to be ready at the scene, Batman goes inside.
What he sees would traumatise him for months – years – to come. A large pit, dug into the centre of the warehouse. Inside it, the dismembered bodies of all the kidnapped infants, of every baby taken over the last few months. And at the edge of the pit, the monster behind it all – a man dressed in purple, his skin bleached as white as a ghost, with a shock of green hair… and that smile. The grotesque, red-streaked smile as he laughed, cackling at Bruce’s horror.
The Joker, he calls himself. He’s been manipulating Batman the entire time, he says – he always had a feeling that he was real, he was simply too crazy a thing not to be – leaving clues and evidence that would point him here, to the warehouse in Blüdhaven, where the punchline awaits him, and oh, is it a good one.
Bruce doesn’t know how to take it. Rage, pure, unbridled rage, flows through him, the sudden hatred he feels for the Joker unmatched by any other, not even by the hatred he had for his parents’ killer, whoever he may be. But there’s also something else, something he had never felt before during his time as Batman, never induced by his own, natural reactions: fear. Bruce is afraid. And he takes that fear, and that hatred, and that rage, the anger he feels for all those innocent lives lost, those lives barely lived, and he let it all out, hitting the Joker harder than he’d ever let himself hit anyone, over and over, until Jim bursts into the warehouse and pulls him away. All the while, the sadistic, twisted clown cheers him on. The Joker's face would haunt Bruce's dreams ever since.
◼ 2012 | Frustrated with the tight leash Bruce keeps on him, coupled with the man’s refusal to deal with the psychological damage that plagues him in a healthy manner, Dick leaves Gotham and Robin behind.
◼ 2013 | Batman encounters a group of thugs attacking a young boy in the Narrows. Taking pity on him, Bruce takes him to the Batcave to patch him up. When the boy wakes up, Bruce discovers that he's been living on the streets by himself. Revealing his identity, the billionaire offers him a place to live. Jason Todd is adopted soon after.
S A M P L E P O S T:
This will also serve as my first post should this be accepted.
B R U C E W A Y N E ’ S J O U R N A L
A P R I L 3 0 T H, 2 0 1 3
M A Y 2 N D, 2 0 1 3 ♦ T H E N A R R O W S ♦ G O T H A M C I T Y, N J
Guest-starring @Nexus Prime as Commissioner James Gordon...
B R U C E W A Y N E ’ S J O U R N A L
A P R I L 3 0 T H, 2 0 1 3
All I hear is laughter and screams. Mirth and pain. They join together like two lovers’ hands, intertwining with the comfortable familiarity of time. I want to make them stop, to tell them to be quiet, but they’re persistent and unwavering, unwilling to leave me be. They pierce my mind with a clarity I don’t want – I can hear them as clearly as I can smell the tangy iron of blood, as clearly as I can see brick and steel plummeting to the streets below. Soon all that will be left is laughter and anarchy, the mark this diseased excuse for an Earth has left on me and mine.
I’m sorry, Father. I’m sorry, Mother. It’s taking me over. I can’t see past my own fears and doubts. I thought I could not fail you more than when I lost Tommy… but the events of the past six months are weighing heavily on me. Gotham is dying, and the world is not far behind. It’s plagued with scum, a cowardly lot that seemingly outnumbers the few good people left at every corner; no one is motivated out of anything but their own agendas, their own greed, their own lust or their own anger. Gotham reeks of terror and mistrust, of concealed chaos and corruption of the innocent. It fears the unknown. Alfred and Dick have tried telling me that it’s not my fault, and I’m desperate to believe them, but although my heart yearns for absolution, my mind knows better, and so the guilt stays, mingling with the laughter and the screams. Gotham is dying. And I fear that the Batman is, too.
I know that the mission must go on. I know that I have to keep fighting. But the laughter and the screams won’t leave me alone. I don’t know where they end and my reality begins.
I fear that someday soon, they’re all that will be left.
I’m sorry, Father. I’m sorry, Mother. It’s taking me over. I can’t see past my own fears and doubts. I thought I could not fail you more than when I lost Tommy… but the events of the past six months are weighing heavily on me. Gotham is dying, and the world is not far behind. It’s plagued with scum, a cowardly lot that seemingly outnumbers the few good people left at every corner; no one is motivated out of anything but their own agendas, their own greed, their own lust or their own anger. Gotham reeks of terror and mistrust, of concealed chaos and corruption of the innocent. It fears the unknown. Alfred and Dick have tried telling me that it’s not my fault, and I’m desperate to believe them, but although my heart yearns for absolution, my mind knows better, and so the guilt stays, mingling with the laughter and the screams. Gotham is dying. And I fear that the Batman is, too.
I know that the mission must go on. I know that I have to keep fighting. But the laughter and the screams won’t leave me alone. I don’t know where they end and my reality begins.
I fear that someday soon, they’re all that will be left.
M A Y 2 N D, 2 0 1 3 ♦ T H E N A R R O W S ♦ G O T H A M C I T Y, N J
Gotham was quiet. It seemed that it always was these days, what spirit it had beaten out of it when the ground shook and its monuments crumbled, its people retreating into silence as they took time to mourn. But that wasn’t anything new. Ever since its establishment, it had been this way. Gotham was always mourning. This time, it just had a greater loss to grieve.
The crime scene was nestled between two run-down apartment blocks in the Narrows. The buildings were arranged in such a way that the alley was tucked into the shadows, away from prying eyes; it was the perfect place for a murder, covered by a pitch-black blanket in the night. The G.C.P.D. had cordoned off the area – yellow tape blocked the only entrance, police cruisers and officers stationed in front to usher away any curious passers-by. Remote area lighting was set up around the scene, CSI’s recording evidence in coveralls and masks.
Batman stood near the police barricade, hidden in darkness. Near him was Commissioner James Gordon. He still looked like the lieutenant the Bat had met six years ago, determined, ever the beacon of good amid the cesspool of corruption that was Gotham. He watched the crime scene from his spot near a cruiser, back straight; he carried himself with military-like discipline, unwilling to let himself slip on the job. But Batman could smell the cigarette smoke on his trench coat, stronger than usual, and the bags under his eyes told the same story: Jim was weary. But unlike most people – unlike Batman – he shouldered that weariness and the stress that came with it, and used it to fuel himself. If anything, Jim was more purposeful than ever.
“Jim,” said Batman.
Any other person would have jumped out of their skin, to be snuck up on like that. But Jim had been at this for six years. He didn’t even turn to look.
“Batman.”
“What can you tell me?”
“Three vics,” Jim began. “No identification yet, but we're working on it. Medical examiner tells me this was a precision job, and judging from the way the bodies were left I'd say this was a professional hit. Multiple contusions from blunt force trauma and several lacerations to the heads and torsos. Each had their throat slit right along the jugular. Someone with serious skill killed these men, and they did it fast enough that no defensive markings were left; these guys didn't stand a chance.”
The commissioner finally turned slightly to glance back at Batman. “Whoever did this is definitely in your area of expertise, which is why I called you in. That, and one other thing.”
Jim stepped to the side to allow the vigilante room to peer at the back end of the alley, and gestured with his right hand towards the brick wall there. “I think someone left you a message.”
One of the victims had been crucified to the wall, pinned by metal stakes. His throat opened up in a bloody smile, his head hanging low, the blood seeping into his clothing. It dripped onto the ground in steady drops, pooling four feet below him. To his right was a calling card, no doubt left by the killer, drawn in their victims’ blood –
An owl’s head, shining in red, its bloody ink trickling down the wall.
The other two victims lay on the ground below it like nothing more than discarded dolls, thrown away by a bored child who got tired of toying with them.
The owl could have meant any number of things. One was Leland Owlsley. He was a stretch; although he was based relatively close to Gotham in New York City, the crimelord didn’t have any reason to expand his operations, least of all in a city as volatile as this. And to announce his presence so boldly, leaving a message for a vigilante that he most likely didn’t think of as anything more than a myth, didn’t fit his M.O.; he prided himself on his intelligence, and despite it, he often relied on his strength in combat – he didn’t showcase the skill required to kill these men so efficiently.
He was off the suspect list, for now.
The other potential culprits were so obscure that they bordered on near impossibility or myth. The White Owl had long been incarcerated, and the Court of Owls was nothing more than a nursery rhyme told to the children of Gotham and Blüdhaven to scare them into behaving. Their Talons were nothing more than words spun into nightmarish thoughts, and although thoughts could kill… it was never this gruesome.
“Pennywise,” said Batman, holding his fingers to the button activating his comm-link. “Are you seeing this?”
The lenses over his eyes were streaming the Batcave everything he saw.
“That I can, sir,” replied Alfred.
“I need you to look for anything that might be linked to this owl symbol. People, organisations – everything. Anyone that might be skilled enough to kill these men without a struggle. Send over what you find.”
“Of course, sir.”
Batman ducked beneath the yellow tape – “CRIME SCENE – DO NOT CROSS” – the crime scene investigators giving him a wide berth as he traversed the alley. He stopped in front of the bodies, taking in every detail. His cowl’s HUD fed him information; their approximate height and weight, the measurements of the lacerations that covered them, estimations made by programs he’d created to aid him in his investigations. The victims were tall, all above six feet; they had muscle to accompany their height, with little fat to it, looking to be around one hundred and ninety pounds in weight. Whoever killed them had to be fast and strong to leave them so defenceless – a common crook would have been faced with a challenge, the victims’ strength and number an advantage against one man with a knife.
The lacerations were long and deep. Exempting the throat cuts, they were about seven inches in length, some cutting through skin, flesh and muscle to the bone – those on the victims’ faces were smaller in comparison, little more than scratches. Weapon likely had a spear-point blade, noted Batman, Lacerations missed any vitals – purposeful. The killer wanted to cause pain. Toyed with them. Angles of the cuts suggest that they’re left-handed.
The victims’ skin broke where the contusions stained it, patches of blue amid drops of red. Blunt force likely exerted through fists. Tissue disruption indicates the use of brass knuckles. Hits were hard – the cause of death. Throats were slit post-mortem.
Jim said that the police were yet to identify the victims. It would take too long to wait for them to get a match, waste too much time – time that the killer could spend finding their next target. That was a risk Batman couldn’t take. Using the screen on his left gauntlet, he ran pictures of the victims through his own facial recognition software, containing data from the G.C.P.D., F.B.I., C.I.A., S.H.I.E.L.D. and Interpol. He got a match within seconds.
Happy Ackerman. Dutch Hancock. Koby Hillam. Small-time crooks turned big-time thugs, wanted for multiple counts of assault and battery, grand larceny and armed robbery. Their employer: Edward Nashton. The Riddler.
Currently held within Arkham Asylum.
“Pennywise. Anything?” Batman asked through his comm-link.
“I’m afraid not, sir. But you might want to beware of the Talon. Just look at how it’s left these gentlemen,” deadpanned Alfred.
Batman ducked under the tape once more, coming to stand next to Jim in the shadows. The more he ran the possibilities through his head, the more he was beginning to think that the killer was a new player. Who this new player was, he didn’t know – but the information he gathered from the crime scene should help push him in the right direction. The victims were scum, but the killer was even more so. Innocent or not, they didn’t deserve to die.
“The killer’s left-handed, likely a male,” said Batman. “He used a spear-point blade, probably a knife. All lacerations but their slit throat were made with the intent to hurt, not kill. Whoever he is, he’s skilled enough to toy with his victims.”
“Yeah,” Jim glanced up at the body pinned to the wall, the man's face permanently distorted in pain from the moment of death. "I get the distinct feeling this guy had motives other than simple murder; playing with his victims before finishing them off like some sick predator definitely fits in line with that. A killer with professional talent like this wouldn't have left us so many clues if he didn't want to, or enjoy it.”
Batman nodded, continuing. “The victims died from blunt force trauma. The killer hit hard, with technique. He used some form of brass knuckles. Slit their throats after their deaths.”
“Thanks. I appreciate you coming in on this, Batman. I'm swamped with other cases as it is, and I still have the mayor breathing down my neck about clean up operations in the lower districts...”
The older man stopped, stroking his moustache lightly as he studied Batman's crouched form. James Gordon had spent enough time around and with this particular vigilante to recognise that certain aspects were off; that something had changed ever since that incident with that clown creep last year. Batman could try and hide it behind his cape and cowl, put on a façade of indifference that was to be expected, and most people would buy. Most people thought the caped crusader was some sort of legend far beyond the understanding of mortal men. But Commissioner Gordon understood what Batman really was, and that even the so-called "Dark Knight" could be affected by horror and tragedy.
“And Barbara will be coming back from university soon, so I've got that to prepare for,” said Jim, changing the subject. “I know she loves being independent and self-reliant these days, but I'll be more than glad when she's home again. She's doing great, though. Really proud of her and the future she's making for herself. She still asks about you when we talk on the phone, you know, not that I can ever tell her much. I'm sure she'd want to hear how you're doing, though. Make sure her hero and saviour is as well off as she's been. If you want to give me something I can tell Barbara to put her at ease that you're doing alright, I'll be sure to let her know...”
“Tell her I’m fine, Jim. She has no need to worry about me.”
A giggle, somewhere in the far recesses of his mind. A pale face. An insane smile. They flashed across his vision, replacing Jim for just a split second – ushering a wince that caused the commissioner to frown.
The shadows grinned at him. “You’re lyyyyy-ing,” they sang.
“Right,” Jim said, dubious. “I’m sure she doesn’t.”
His doubt hung in the air, like a bad smell. After a few seconds, Batman broke the silence, turning away. “Take care of yourself, Jim.”
“You too, Batman.”
Batman withdrew his grapnel gun from his belt, aiming at the roof above him. He pulled the trigger, the wire shooting out with speed, its clawed end clasping onto the edge with an audible impact. Pulled taut, the gun worked to carry Batman up, whirring in the process. He climbed from the edge of the roof with ease, walking west to the corner where he’d parked the Batmobile. The night wasn’t coming to an end; not yet. He had someone he wanted to talk to first. The Riddler was about to get an unexpected visit.
A camera flashed on the neighbouring rooftop. It went unnoticed by Batman, its owner smiling in the evening gloom.
“Perfect.”
The crime scene was nestled between two run-down apartment blocks in the Narrows. The buildings were arranged in such a way that the alley was tucked into the shadows, away from prying eyes; it was the perfect place for a murder, covered by a pitch-black blanket in the night. The G.C.P.D. had cordoned off the area – yellow tape blocked the only entrance, police cruisers and officers stationed in front to usher away any curious passers-by. Remote area lighting was set up around the scene, CSI’s recording evidence in coveralls and masks.
Batman stood near the police barricade, hidden in darkness. Near him was Commissioner James Gordon. He still looked like the lieutenant the Bat had met six years ago, determined, ever the beacon of good amid the cesspool of corruption that was Gotham. He watched the crime scene from his spot near a cruiser, back straight; he carried himself with military-like discipline, unwilling to let himself slip on the job. But Batman could smell the cigarette smoke on his trench coat, stronger than usual, and the bags under his eyes told the same story: Jim was weary. But unlike most people – unlike Batman – he shouldered that weariness and the stress that came with it, and used it to fuel himself. If anything, Jim was more purposeful than ever.
“Jim,” said Batman.
Any other person would have jumped out of their skin, to be snuck up on like that. But Jim had been at this for six years. He didn’t even turn to look.
“Batman.”
“What can you tell me?”
“Three vics,” Jim began. “No identification yet, but we're working on it. Medical examiner tells me this was a precision job, and judging from the way the bodies were left I'd say this was a professional hit. Multiple contusions from blunt force trauma and several lacerations to the heads and torsos. Each had their throat slit right along the jugular. Someone with serious skill killed these men, and they did it fast enough that no defensive markings were left; these guys didn't stand a chance.”
The commissioner finally turned slightly to glance back at Batman. “Whoever did this is definitely in your area of expertise, which is why I called you in. That, and one other thing.”
Jim stepped to the side to allow the vigilante room to peer at the back end of the alley, and gestured with his right hand towards the brick wall there. “I think someone left you a message.”
One of the victims had been crucified to the wall, pinned by metal stakes. His throat opened up in a bloody smile, his head hanging low, the blood seeping into his clothing. It dripped onto the ground in steady drops, pooling four feet below him. To his right was a calling card, no doubt left by the killer, drawn in their victims’ blood –
An owl’s head, shining in red, its bloody ink trickling down the wall.
The other two victims lay on the ground below it like nothing more than discarded dolls, thrown away by a bored child who got tired of toying with them.
The owl could have meant any number of things. One was Leland Owlsley. He was a stretch; although he was based relatively close to Gotham in New York City, the crimelord didn’t have any reason to expand his operations, least of all in a city as volatile as this. And to announce his presence so boldly, leaving a message for a vigilante that he most likely didn’t think of as anything more than a myth, didn’t fit his M.O.; he prided himself on his intelligence, and despite it, he often relied on his strength in combat – he didn’t showcase the skill required to kill these men so efficiently.
He was off the suspect list, for now.
The other potential culprits were so obscure that they bordered on near impossibility or myth. The White Owl had long been incarcerated, and the Court of Owls was nothing more than a nursery rhyme told to the children of Gotham and Blüdhaven to scare them into behaving. Their Talons were nothing more than words spun into nightmarish thoughts, and although thoughts could kill… it was never this gruesome.
“Pennywise,” said Batman, holding his fingers to the button activating his comm-link. “Are you seeing this?”
The lenses over his eyes were streaming the Batcave everything he saw.
“That I can, sir,” replied Alfred.
“I need you to look for anything that might be linked to this owl symbol. People, organisations – everything. Anyone that might be skilled enough to kill these men without a struggle. Send over what you find.”
“Of course, sir.”
Batman ducked beneath the yellow tape – “CRIME SCENE – DO NOT CROSS” – the crime scene investigators giving him a wide berth as he traversed the alley. He stopped in front of the bodies, taking in every detail. His cowl’s HUD fed him information; their approximate height and weight, the measurements of the lacerations that covered them, estimations made by programs he’d created to aid him in his investigations. The victims were tall, all above six feet; they had muscle to accompany their height, with little fat to it, looking to be around one hundred and ninety pounds in weight. Whoever killed them had to be fast and strong to leave them so defenceless – a common crook would have been faced with a challenge, the victims’ strength and number an advantage against one man with a knife.
The lacerations were long and deep. Exempting the throat cuts, they were about seven inches in length, some cutting through skin, flesh and muscle to the bone – those on the victims’ faces were smaller in comparison, little more than scratches. Weapon likely had a spear-point blade, noted Batman, Lacerations missed any vitals – purposeful. The killer wanted to cause pain. Toyed with them. Angles of the cuts suggest that they’re left-handed.
The victims’ skin broke where the contusions stained it, patches of blue amid drops of red. Blunt force likely exerted through fists. Tissue disruption indicates the use of brass knuckles. Hits were hard – the cause of death. Throats were slit post-mortem.
Jim said that the police were yet to identify the victims. It would take too long to wait for them to get a match, waste too much time – time that the killer could spend finding their next target. That was a risk Batman couldn’t take. Using the screen on his left gauntlet, he ran pictures of the victims through his own facial recognition software, containing data from the G.C.P.D., F.B.I., C.I.A., S.H.I.E.L.D. and Interpol. He got a match within seconds.
Happy Ackerman. Dutch Hancock. Koby Hillam. Small-time crooks turned big-time thugs, wanted for multiple counts of assault and battery, grand larceny and armed robbery. Their employer: Edward Nashton. The Riddler.
Currently held within Arkham Asylum.
“Pennywise. Anything?” Batman asked through his comm-link.
“I’m afraid not, sir. But you might want to beware of the Talon. Just look at how it’s left these gentlemen,” deadpanned Alfred.
Batman ducked under the tape once more, coming to stand next to Jim in the shadows. The more he ran the possibilities through his head, the more he was beginning to think that the killer was a new player. Who this new player was, he didn’t know – but the information he gathered from the crime scene should help push him in the right direction. The victims were scum, but the killer was even more so. Innocent or not, they didn’t deserve to die.
“The killer’s left-handed, likely a male,” said Batman. “He used a spear-point blade, probably a knife. All lacerations but their slit throat were made with the intent to hurt, not kill. Whoever he is, he’s skilled enough to toy with his victims.”
“Yeah,” Jim glanced up at the body pinned to the wall, the man's face permanently distorted in pain from the moment of death. "I get the distinct feeling this guy had motives other than simple murder; playing with his victims before finishing them off like some sick predator definitely fits in line with that. A killer with professional talent like this wouldn't have left us so many clues if he didn't want to, or enjoy it.”
Batman nodded, continuing. “The victims died from blunt force trauma. The killer hit hard, with technique. He used some form of brass knuckles. Slit their throats after their deaths.”
“Thanks. I appreciate you coming in on this, Batman. I'm swamped with other cases as it is, and I still have the mayor breathing down my neck about clean up operations in the lower districts...”
The older man stopped, stroking his moustache lightly as he studied Batman's crouched form. James Gordon had spent enough time around and with this particular vigilante to recognise that certain aspects were off; that something had changed ever since that incident with that clown creep last year. Batman could try and hide it behind his cape and cowl, put on a façade of indifference that was to be expected, and most people would buy. Most people thought the caped crusader was some sort of legend far beyond the understanding of mortal men. But Commissioner Gordon understood what Batman really was, and that even the so-called "Dark Knight" could be affected by horror and tragedy.
“And Barbara will be coming back from university soon, so I've got that to prepare for,” said Jim, changing the subject. “I know she loves being independent and self-reliant these days, but I'll be more than glad when she's home again. She's doing great, though. Really proud of her and the future she's making for herself. She still asks about you when we talk on the phone, you know, not that I can ever tell her much. I'm sure she'd want to hear how you're doing, though. Make sure her hero and saviour is as well off as she's been. If you want to give me something I can tell Barbara to put her at ease that you're doing alright, I'll be sure to let her know...”
“Tell her I’m fine, Jim. She has no need to worry about me.”
A giggle, somewhere in the far recesses of his mind. A pale face. An insane smile. They flashed across his vision, replacing Jim for just a split second – ushering a wince that caused the commissioner to frown.
The shadows grinned at him. “You’re lyyyyy-ing,” they sang.
“Right,” Jim said, dubious. “I’m sure she doesn’t.”
His doubt hung in the air, like a bad smell. After a few seconds, Batman broke the silence, turning away. “Take care of yourself, Jim.”
“You too, Batman.”
Batman withdrew his grapnel gun from his belt, aiming at the roof above him. He pulled the trigger, the wire shooting out with speed, its clawed end clasping onto the edge with an audible impact. Pulled taut, the gun worked to carry Batman up, whirring in the process. He climbed from the edge of the roof with ease, walking west to the corner where he’d parked the Batmobile. The night wasn’t coming to an end; not yet. He had someone he wanted to talk to first. The Riddler was about to get an unexpected visit.
A camera flashed on the neighbouring rooftop. It went unnoticed by Batman, its owner smiling in the evening gloom.
“Perfect.”
OP
GreenGrenade
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
E L I J A H S N O W
“You want to know the secret of the world? It’s this: save it, and it’ll repay you, every second of every day.”
A X E L B R A S S
N A M E
Elijah Snow
A L I A S
He’s been called many things. Cold bastard. Creepy old goat. Most grandiose, though, is Elijah Snow: Spirit of the Cold.
P O W E R S A N D A B I L I T I E S
Spirit of the Cold – Elijah hasn’t aged past his thirties. He controls the cold. He can freeze things. That fluid your brain floats in? It's cerebrospinal ice now. Don't piss him off.
Intelligence – Elijah’s a smart guy, with many (many) years of knowledge to draw from. He’s seen the world, immersed himself in it, and the man that’s come out the other side is one with a dangerous mind.
Wealth – One of the benefits of functional immortality – you have plenty of time to get rich.
Intelligence – Elijah’s a smart guy, with many (many) years of knowledge to draw from. He’s seen the world, immersed himself in it, and the man that’s come out the other side is one with a dangerous mind.
Wealth – One of the benefits of functional immortality – you have plenty of time to get rich.
O R I G I N A N D B A C K S T O R Y
Elijah Snow was born a long time ago in the American South, when the world was changing and growing stranger. It was clear from the start that he was different, and it didn’t take long for him to become dissatisfied with simple rural life. He was only a teenager when he left home in search of the extraordinary, of things in the world that just didn’t seem to fit, and that’s how he’s spent his days ever since – on a planetary trek, amassing wealth, knowledge, friends and enemies over the long, long years. He’s seen much of what S.H.I.E.L.D. and C.A.D.M.U.S. have tried to hide from the world, and more still of what they can’t even begin to imagine. He is an archaeologist of mysteries, a historian of the uncanny – the spirit of the cold, ghost of the Metahuman Age – and now, with the advent of the Superman, his purpose is ever clearer.
It’s a strange world. He wants to keep it that way.
It’s a strange world. He wants to keep it that way.
W H A T M A K E S T H I S C H A R A C T E R " U L T I M A T E " ?
The high-concept, sweeping premise of Planetary, set in a combined Marvel and DC universe where Planetary… isn’t actually a thing. Elijah’s essentially a solo act, with his role as a Century Baby tweaked to fit a 21st Century setting. He has no immensely wealthy organisation to back him on his adventures; he simply has his own deep pockets and resourcefulness, both gained over the course of a very long life. He’ll be interacting with the Ultimate One Universe’s strangest, most spectacular phenomena, uncovering conspiracies and documenting the hidden, emergent history of the world we’re all creating. Elijah’s an old, functionally immortal man, so taken by the wonders of the world that he hasn’t yet realised his true purpose might be to save it.
S U P P O R T I N G C H A R A C T E R S
Jakita Wagner – Badass.
The Drummer – Technopath.
Ambrose Chase – Physics distortionist.
Jenny Sparks – Spirit of technology.
Jack Hawksmoor – God of cities.
Jay Garrick – Former speedster.
John Stone – Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.
J'onn J'onzz – Martian.
Nick Fury – Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Amanda Waller – Director of C.A.D.M.U.S.
Henry Bendix – Director of Stormwatch, S.H.I.E.L.D. and C.A.D.M.U.S.’s sister organisation, concerned not with domestic or international security, but rather, protection from the billions of stars that surround the Earth. The public doesn’t know of Stormwatch’s existence.
The Strange, Strange World – The world is a strange, ever-changing place. There are always new things to discover, old things to uncover – and with them come people, new and old. The people listed above are not the only ones Elijah will run into... and this world won’t be the only one he sets foot on.
The Drummer – Technopath.
Ambrose Chase – Physics distortionist.
Jenny Sparks – Spirit of technology.
Jack Hawksmoor – God of cities.
Jay Garrick – Former speedster.
John Stone – Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.
J'onn J'onzz – Martian.
Nick Fury – Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Amanda Waller – Director of C.A.D.M.U.S.
Henry Bendix – Director of Stormwatch, S.H.I.E.L.D. and C.A.D.M.U.S.’s sister organisation, concerned not with domestic or international security, but rather, protection from the billions of stars that surround the Earth. The public doesn’t know of Stormwatch’s existence.
The Strange, Strange World – The world is a strange, ever-changing place. There are always new things to discover, old things to uncover – and with them come people, new and old. The people listed above are not the only ones Elijah will run into... and this world won’t be the only one he sets foot on.
S A M P L E P O S T
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“Oh, go slide down a barbed-wire fence.”
S P I D E R - M A N , T O S O M E O N E .
P R O B A B L Y H E R M A N .
S P I D E R - M A N , T O S O M E O N E .
P R O B A B L Y H E R M A N .
N A M E
Peter Benjamin Parker
A L I A S
Spider-Man
P O W E R S A N D A B I L I T I E S
Altered Physiology – Peter was bitten by a genetically altered spider at OsCorp, catalysing changes in his physiology. Bed-ridden for nearly two weeks with a high fever, he came out the other side with enhanced strength, speed, reflexes, equilibrium and eyesight, among other improvements – such as his ability to cling to walls and other surfaces, and his so-called "spider-sense". He is, for lack of a better term, a human spider.
Artificial Webs – Using his late father’s cursory notes for an abandoned project, Peter developed an ultra-potent adhesive that acts as a versatile and reliable stand-in for organic webs (the absence of which Peter thanks every god for). Shot out of the aptly named, wrist-worn "web shooters", the webs can hold an immense amount of weight, and currently dissolve after three hours.
"Spider-Sense" – Peter’s "spider-sense", as he calls it, is what happens when someone inherits a spider’s highly developed, immensely efficient mechanosensory systems. Its primary mechanoreceptors are trichobothria, exquisitely fine hairs that feel for fluid motion (e.g. airflow) which, at their very limit, operate at the thermal noise of Brownian motion; tactile hairs that respond to less than half a micronewton; and slit sensilla, mechanoreceptory organs that can detect forces as small as 0.01 micronewtons. Peter has inherited these systems, and as a result can: sense touches before they make contact, detect the atmospheric disturbances of an incoming projectile, feel minute vibrations produced by others, respond to the pressure of light, and in theory, feel the collisions of atoms and molecules around him (although sensory blocks have, thus far, prevented him from experiencing such extreme sensitivity to motion). These are just some examples of what his spider-sense can do.
Artificial Webs – Using his late father’s cursory notes for an abandoned project, Peter developed an ultra-potent adhesive that acts as a versatile and reliable stand-in for organic webs (the absence of which Peter thanks every god for). Shot out of the aptly named, wrist-worn "web shooters", the webs can hold an immense amount of weight, and currently dissolve after three hours.
"Spider-Sense" – Peter’s "spider-sense", as he calls it, is what happens when someone inherits a spider’s highly developed, immensely efficient mechanosensory systems. Its primary mechanoreceptors are trichobothria, exquisitely fine hairs that feel for fluid motion (e.g. airflow) which, at their very limit, operate at the thermal noise of Brownian motion; tactile hairs that respond to less than half a micronewton; and slit sensilla, mechanoreceptory organs that can detect forces as small as 0.01 micronewtons. Peter has inherited these systems, and as a result can: sense touches before they make contact, detect the atmospheric disturbances of an incoming projectile, feel minute vibrations produced by others, respond to the pressure of light, and in theory, feel the collisions of atoms and molecules around him (although sensory blocks have, thus far, prevented him from experiencing such extreme sensitivity to motion). These are just some examples of what his spider-sense can do.
O R I G I N A N D B A C K S T O R Y
---
W H A T M A K E S T H I S C H A R A C T E R " U L T I M A T E " ?
S U P P O R T I N G C H A R A C T E R S
May Parker – Peter’s loving aunt, his mother figure for the majority of his life and the only family he has left. At her core, she cares for people; much like her late husband, she feels a responsibility to help those in need, which she fulfills by volunteering at the Ditko Mission in Hell’s Kitchen.
Gwendolyne Maxine "Gwen" Stacy – Peter’s best friend since fourth grade, Gwen is an academically gifted young woman with a passion for science, love of music and snappy sense of humour. The daughter of a cop, she has a strong sense of justice, with unflinching morals that keep Peter honest.
Harold "Harry" Osborn – Peter’s other best friend, coming to Midtown High in eighth grade after flunking out of private school. Geeky, shy, but headstrong; not at all how you would picture the son of a billionaire.
Mary Jane "MJ" Watson – A childhood friend, Peter hasn’t seen MJ in eight years.
Eugene "Flash" Thompson – A bully, Flash has been the bane of Peter’s schooling existence since fourth grade. Peter doesn’t care much for the guy, but could it be that there’s more to him than chronic asshattery?
Elizabeth "Liz" Allan – Cheerleader and singer. Harry’s had a crush on her for... a while.
Captain George Stacy – Gwen’s father, and the leader of the NYPD’s Major Crimes Squad at One Police Plaza. George is a kind, discerning, and often stern man whose good judgement saw him have many successes as a detective and sergeant before his promotion to captain. Peter’s known him for years, and is quite close with him.
Dr. Otto Octavius – A roboticist and biochemist who runs the Conway Research Laboratory at OsCorp’s Greenwich Village campus alongside Curt Connors.
Dr. Curtis Connors – A biologist and biochemist who runs the Conway Research Laboratory with Dr. Octavius at OsCorp’s Greenwich facilities.
John Jonah Jameson – The owner, publisher and editor-in-chief of the Daily Bugle News Group, which is made up of the online and print newspaper, The Daily Bugle, the twenty-four hour news station, Daily Bugle TV (DBTV), and the celebrity and human interest magazine, Now Magazine. Holds a firm anti-vigilante stance.
Joe "Robbie" Robertson – Managing editor and recruitment manager at the Daily Bugle News Group. A kindly, fair, gentle man; the yin to Jonah's yang.
Norman Osborn – The founder and CEO of OsCorp, Norman is a chemist, geneticist and businessman at heart. He comes across as cold, and occasionally neglectful of Harry. Peter is often witness to tense exchanges between the two, and doesn’t particularly like the man.
Gwendolyne Maxine "Gwen" Stacy – Peter’s best friend since fourth grade, Gwen is an academically gifted young woman with a passion for science, love of music and snappy sense of humour. The daughter of a cop, she has a strong sense of justice, with unflinching morals that keep Peter honest.
Harold "Harry" Osborn – Peter’s other best friend, coming to Midtown High in eighth grade after flunking out of private school. Geeky, shy, but headstrong; not at all how you would picture the son of a billionaire.
Mary Jane "MJ" Watson – A childhood friend, Peter hasn’t seen MJ in eight years.
Eugene "Flash" Thompson – A bully, Flash has been the bane of Peter’s schooling existence since fourth grade. Peter doesn’t care much for the guy, but could it be that there’s more to him than chronic asshattery?
Elizabeth "Liz" Allan – Cheerleader and singer. Harry’s had a crush on her for... a while.
Captain George Stacy – Gwen’s father, and the leader of the NYPD’s Major Crimes Squad at One Police Plaza. George is a kind, discerning, and often stern man whose good judgement saw him have many successes as a detective and sergeant before his promotion to captain. Peter’s known him for years, and is quite close with him.
Dr. Otto Octavius – A roboticist and biochemist who runs the Conway Research Laboratory at OsCorp’s Greenwich Village campus alongside Curt Connors.
Dr. Curtis Connors – A biologist and biochemist who runs the Conway Research Laboratory with Dr. Octavius at OsCorp’s Greenwich facilities.
John Jonah Jameson – The owner, publisher and editor-in-chief of the Daily Bugle News Group, which is made up of the online and print newspaper, The Daily Bugle, the twenty-four hour news station, Daily Bugle TV (DBTV), and the celebrity and human interest magazine, Now Magazine. Holds a firm anti-vigilante stance.
Joe "Robbie" Robertson – Managing editor and recruitment manager at the Daily Bugle News Group. A kindly, fair, gentle man; the yin to Jonah's yang.
Norman Osborn – The founder and CEO of OsCorp, Norman is a chemist, geneticist and businessman at heart. He comes across as cold, and occasionally neglectful of Harry. Peter is often witness to tense exchanges between the two, and doesn’t particularly like the man.
S A M P L E P O S T
“Oh, go slide down a barbed-wire fence.”
S P I D E R - M A N , T O S O M E O N E .
P R O B A B L Y H E R M A N .
S P I D E R - M A N , T O S O M E O N E .
P R O B A B L Y H E R M A N .
P E T E R B E N J A M I N P A R K E R ♦ Q U E E N S , N E W Y O R K C I T Y ♦ M I D T O W N T E C H N I C A L H I G H S C H O O L
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"Quote."
P E T E R P A R K E R
P E T E R P A R K E R
---
C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:
---
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
---
S A M P L E P O S T:
A R C T I T L E
C H A P T E R O N E :C H A P T E R T I T L E
"Quote."
Q U O T E
Q U O T E
P O S T C A T A L O G:
▼ A R C O N E : N A M E
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
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01. Chapter
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T H O R
"I desire my death now.The disir call me home,
Whom Odin hastens onward
From his hall, to take me.
On the high bench, boldly,
Beer I’ll drink with the gods;
Hope of life is lost now —
Laughing I shall die!"
R A G N A R L O D B R O K
N A M E
Thor.
A L I A S
The God of Thunder has gone by many names over the past few millennia. Today, one might know him as Donald Blake.
P O W E R S A N D A B I L I T I E S
O R I G I N A N D B A C K S T O R Y
A millennium ago, the last of the pagan Northmen renounced their beliefs in the Aesir and the Vanir. The death of the great Jotunn, Ymir, was replaced by Genesis; Valhalla and Helheim replaced by Heaven and Hell; the world tree, Yggdrasil, all but discarded; and the many gods and goddesses of Asgard replaced by just one, the Christ-God. But there was a time before, when the Northmen still sailed to conquer new lands, that they would worship the cunning Odin, the mighty Thor, the beautiful Freya and mischievous Loki. Their stories would be passed on from parent to child, warrior to warrior, farmer to farmer – and although the truths in these stories would get lost amid retellings and revisions, there were those who knew them well. Those such as Ragnar Lodbrok, legendary king of the Northmen, and friend to Donar – who, illuminated by hearthfire and as impassioned as in battle, would tell his sons the true stories of the gods.
But there is something that not Ragnar, not the Vikings, not even the Gods accounted for. Thor is not in Asgard anymore.
“Thor is the god of thunder; the son of the All-Father, Odin, and the giantess, Jord. He is the protector of the Aesir, sworn guardian of Asgard, and wielder of the great hammer, Mjolnir. He was born with hair as red as blood and bright as flames, his eyes as blue as lightning; and as he grew from boy to man his body changed into that of a great warrior, his godly strength proving to be greater than both the Aesir’s and the Vanir’s. Long ago, when his youthful energy was more explosive than the thunderous sky, he was gifted with his first weapon by the dwarves of Nidavellir – Jarnbjorn, the battle axe. With it he honed his skills as a warrior, and battled many a jotunn, until he became known as their scourge.
“His home is Bilskirnir, the largest hall in Asgard; his realm, Thrudheim. He shares it with Sif, his wife, the goddess of grain and harvest, and his children: Magni, Modi, Thrud, and his stepson, Ullr. He has travelled deep into Jotunheim, and emerged victorious. He has bested Utgard-Loki, and killed Hrungnir. He blesses us on our raids in faraway lands, and gives us fertile soil so that we may last the harsh winter. With Mjolnir, most powerful weapon in all the Nine Realms, he is fiercer than storms; with us, on Midgard, he is as gentle as the calm breeze on a bright summer’s day. He is Thor. He is our friend. Destined is he to kill the Midgard Serpent, Jormungandr... just as the Serpent is destined to kill him, when Ragnarok comes, destroying everything, and everyone.”
“His home is Bilskirnir, the largest hall in Asgard; his realm, Thrudheim. He shares it with Sif, his wife, the goddess of grain and harvest, and his children: Magni, Modi, Thrud, and his stepson, Ullr. He has travelled deep into Jotunheim, and emerged victorious. He has bested Utgard-Loki, and killed Hrungnir. He blesses us on our raids in faraway lands, and gives us fertile soil so that we may last the harsh winter. With Mjolnir, most powerful weapon in all the Nine Realms, he is fiercer than storms; with us, on Midgard, he is as gentle as the calm breeze on a bright summer’s day. He is Thor. He is our friend. Destined is he to kill the Midgard Serpent, Jormungandr... just as the Serpent is destined to kill him, when Ragnarok comes, destroying everything, and everyone.”
But there is something that not Ragnar, not the Vikings, not even the Gods accounted for. Thor is not in Asgard anymore.
W H A T M A K E S T H I S C H A R A C T E R " U L T I M A T E " ?
This isn't Kirby and Lee's Thor. Asgard isn't a grand, golden metropolis, and its gods aren't extra-dimensional beings. This Thor has a much firmer basis in the original Norse myths, grounding him in what I reckon is a far more epic, personal interpretation of the guy. On top of this, in a twist on the old "exiled god" origin Marvel seems so fond of, this Thor has exiled himself. Why? That's for you to find out.
S U P P O R T I N G C H A R A C T E R S
Baldur, god of purity and brother of Thor.
Freya, the beautiful Vanir goddess of love, wealth and fertility, and a powerful practitioner of seidr magic.
Freyr, brother of Freya, Vanir god of fertility and ruler of Alfheim, realm of the light elves.
Heimdall, watchman of the gods and guardian of Bifrost, the bridge that connects Asgard and Midgard.
Loki, the trickster jotunn, and blood brother of Odin.
Magni, Modi and Thrud, children of thunder.
Odin, All-Father of the Aesir; wily, manipulative and obsessed with Fate.
Sif, the goddess of grain and harvest, a shield-maiden of Asgard, and the wife of Thor. Her beauty is second only to Freya's.
Tyr, the god of law and justice, and brother of Thor.
Ullr, son of Sif, the god of archery and the hunt.
Freya, the beautiful Vanir goddess of love, wealth and fertility, and a powerful practitioner of seidr magic.
Freyr, brother of Freya, Vanir god of fertility and ruler of Alfheim, realm of the light elves.
Heimdall, watchman of the gods and guardian of Bifrost, the bridge that connects Asgard and Midgard.
Loki, the trickster jotunn, and blood brother of Odin.
Magni, Modi and Thrud, children of thunder.
Odin, All-Father of the Aesir; wily, manipulative and obsessed with Fate.
Sif, the goddess of grain and harvest, a shield-maiden of Asgard, and the wife of Thor. Her beauty is second only to Freya's.
Tyr, the god of law and justice, and brother of Thor.
Ullr, son of Sif, the god of archery and the hunt.
▼ T H E G R E C O - R O M A N G O D S
Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty, pleasure and procreation.
Apollo,
Ares, the god of war.
Artemis,
Athena, the goddess of wisdom, war, and crafts.
Demeter,
Dionysus,
Hades, the king of the underworld and god of the dead. Brother of Poseidon and Zeus.
Hephaestus, the god of fire, forges, metalworking, stone masonry and craftsmanship, and estranged husband of Aphrodite.
Hera, the absolute worst.
Heracles, son of Zeus, a divine hero and the god of strength.
Hermes,
Poseidon, god of the sea. Brother of Hades and Zeus.
Zeus, sky god and king of the Greco-Roman pantheon. Brother of Hades and Poseidon.
▼ T H E E G Y P T I A N G O D S
Amaterasu, Shinto goddess of the sun.
Baron Samedi, Voodo spirit-god of death and the afterlife.
Huitzilopochtli, the Aztec sun and war god.
Khonshu, the Egyptian god of the moon, time and vengeance.
Thoth, the Egyptian god of writing and wisdom.
Xipe Totec, the Aztec god of agriculture and disease.
Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty, pleasure and procreation.
Apollo,
Ares, the god of war.
Artemis,
Athena, the goddess of wisdom, war, and crafts.
Demeter,
Dionysus,
Hades, the king of the underworld and god of the dead. Brother of Poseidon and Zeus.
Hephaestus, the god of fire, forges, metalworking, stone masonry and craftsmanship, and estranged husband of Aphrodite.
Hera, the absolute worst.
Heracles, son of Zeus, a divine hero and the god of strength.
Hermes,
Poseidon, god of the sea. Brother of Hades and Zeus.
Zeus, sky god and king of the Greco-Roman pantheon. Brother of Hades and Poseidon.
▼ T H E E G Y P T I A N G O D S
Amaterasu, Shinto goddess of the sun.
Baron Samedi, Voodo spirit-god of death and the afterlife.
Huitzilopochtli, the Aztec sun and war god.
Khonshu, the Egyptian god of the moon, time and vengeance.
Thoth, the Egyptian god of writing and wisdom.
Xipe Totec, the Aztec god of agriculture and disease.
Bjorn Ironside, Ivar the Boneless, Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye and Ubba, the sons of Ragnar and leaders of the Great Heathen Army.
General Nicholas Fury, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., an American security and intelligence agency connected to the U.S. government with far-reaching international interests.
Jane Foster, a doctor who's made friends with the man she calls Donald Blake, often visiting him on his property.
Ragnar Lodbrok, the 9th century Viking king of the Danes.
Thjalfi and Roskva, Thor's former servants from a time long past.
General Nicholas Fury, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., an American security and intelligence agency connected to the U.S. government with far-reaching international interests.
Jane Foster, a doctor who's made friends with the man she calls Donald Blake, often visiting him on his property.
Ragnar Lodbrok, the 9th century Viking king of the Danes.
Thjalfi and Roskva, Thor's former servants from a time long past.
S A M P L E P O S T
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The Sparks is the defence mechanism.
The Sparks has the authority to take action to restore the balance.
J E N N Y S P A R K S
N A M E
Jennifer Mei Sparks
A L I A S
The Spirit of Technology
P O W E R S A N D A B I L I T I E S
Jenny is the Spirit of Technology. Over one hundred years old, she hasn’t aged a day past twenty. Technology is an extension of her, just as she is an extension of it. Electricity is hers to control. The Internet is her domain. She’s knowledgeable in several martial arts, has experience in covert operations, and can go through a pack of cigarettes in speeds that can only be described as inhuman. Don’t piss her off.
O R I G I N A N D B A C K S T O R Y
Jennifer Sparks was born a long time ago, when the world was changing and growing dangerous. It was clear from the start that she was different, built for a new, posthuman Earth, and she spent much of her life in search of the purpose that came with it. She’s seen many things, been to many places, and now, over one hundred years since she was brought into this world, she may have finally found it. The world has finally caught up with her. Superhumans have risen, no longer in hiding. Change – great change – is on the horizon. In the wake of the Silver Surfer, Jenny knows what she has to do. What she was made to do. But first…
She needs a team.
She needs a team.
W H A T M A K E S T H I S C H A R A C T E R " U L T I M A T E " ?
This Jenny lives in a universe where Marvel and DC coexist. The opportunities this presents for both her past and present-day stories are abundant, and I really want to take advantage of that as I go about establishing her place in the Ultimate One Universe. Story-wise, Jenny’s arc this season is pretty simple. She’ll be travelling around the world in search of people like her, who want to make a difference, and make it now. The potential for interaction is huge, and I’m really looking forward to telling the kind of high concept, high stakes story that made me love Jenny’s character in the first place – the story of a grumpy old woman who, in the end, just wants to save the world.
S U P P O R T I N G C H A R A C T E R S
Jack Hawksmoor – God of the Cities.
Angela Spica – Employee at Stark Industries.
Elijah Snow – Spirit of the Cold.
Jakita Wagner – Badass.
The Drummer – Technopath.
The Doctor – Shaman.
John Stone – Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Henry Bendix – Director of Stormwatch, S.H.I.E.L.D. and C.A.D.M.U.S.’s sister organisation, concerned not with domestic or international security, but rather, protection from the billions of stars that surround the Earth. The public doesn’t know of Stormwatch’s existence.
And More – Well? You’ll see.
Angela Spica – Employee at Stark Industries.
Elijah Snow – Spirit of the Cold.
Jakita Wagner – Badass.
The Drummer – Technopath.
The Doctor – Shaman.
John Stone – Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Henry Bendix – Director of Stormwatch, S.H.I.E.L.D. and C.A.D.M.U.S.’s sister organisation, concerned not with domestic or international security, but rather, protection from the billions of stars that surround the Earth. The public doesn’t know of Stormwatch’s existence.
And More – Well? You’ll see.
S A M P L E P O S T
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I’m floating in the stream of reality. It’s cold and uncertain, this river of existence, and it carries me everywhere. Some part of me, present and unphased, knows: I am the apex. Time brushes my skin, tender and warm. It is familiar. Inviting, yet bleak. The colour of life and entropy, swimming between my eyes and through my body; beginning in front of me and inside me, ending nowhere.
Reality falls. The roar is deafening as it crashes, and I know that I should be crushed beneath its weight. And yet…
I am in a house now.
I know this place. The colour of life is gone, but entropy remains, and I can feel its happiness – it is a cancer, and for the first time in my life I wish to take joy away from something. Screams stare at me from the shadows. They look familiar… the voice… its fear, its love…
Mom?
The house falls away, and I am met with reality’s cold embrace once again. The river shifts and cracks, like a wild storm. Lightning and thunder in the causal abyss. Time is bleeding now. I see red – it is youthful and good, my better in every way. I see a woman who loves me; a man who ruined me. I see friendship and enmity, like snakes entwined. I see lost youth. Found wisdom. They join the storm now, and the lightning lashes out in a chorus, and together they say
Barry, wake up
Reality falls. The roar is deafening as it crashes, and I know that I should be crushed beneath its weight. And yet…
I am in a house now.
I know this place. The colour of life is gone, but entropy remains, and I can feel its happiness – it is a cancer, and for the first time in my life I wish to take joy away from something. Screams stare at me from the shadows. They look familiar… the voice… its fear, its love…
Mom?
The house falls away, and I am met with reality’s cold embrace once again. The river shifts and cracks, like a wild storm. Lightning and thunder in the causal abyss. Time is bleeding now. I see red – it is youthful and good, my better in every way. I see a woman who loves me; a man who ruined me. I see friendship and enmity, like snakes entwined. I see lost youth. Found wisdom. They join the storm now, and the lightning lashes out in a chorus, and together they say
Barry, wake up
They tell me I’ve been in a coma for two months.
A student found me on the floor of CCU’s chemistry lab, surrounded by shards of hot glass with a smoldering hole in my lab coat. Apparently there were no clouds in the sky, which is weird, on account of the lightning that struck me – the local news attributed it to some sort of freak “flash storm”; there for long enough to fry me, but gone in time for the clock on the wall to tick past another second. I was taken to the hospital, where the staff spent most of the next eight weeks just… waiting for me to wake up. I recovered from the lightning strike pretty quickly, I guess – there were no burns, no blown eardrums or nerve damage. The only thing wrong with me was that I really liked to sleep.
I have no immediate family – none that can come visit me at the hospital, anyway – so once Iris found out I was being kept there, she got the orderlies to put her down as my emergency contact. When the doctor gave me the okay to leave, she was there to take me home.
“You missed graduation,” she says, eyes fixed on the road. Her hair’s longer. Past her shoulders now. She looks good.
“Damn it,” I say, “Three years of college in the trash. Guess I have to retake it. Ah, but the tuition…”
She takes her eyes off the road to give me a concerned look. “What will you do?”
“Sell my body. It’s the only logical option.”
“God, you’re so right. Tell me how it goes. I could use some extra money.”
We share a grin.
“How was graduation, anyway?” I ask.
“It was good. Pretty long. I think they sent your diploma to your apartment.”
“Oh, cool.”
My apartment’s a single room hole in Leawood, on the corner of Kanigher and Carmine. It’s in a squat old building, a little run down, but not enough to raise any red flags – just enough to know that yep, this is where a college graduate who got struck by lightning would live. Iris walks me inside and tries the elevator.
“Out of order? Still?”
“It’s like I was never in a coma.”
The walk up the stairs is slow, but nice. Iris catches me up on the past two months – she finally saved up for that new TV she’s had her eye on; she got offered a job at the newspaper she’d been interning at, the Citizen (“Holy – congrats!”); Wally, her nephew, visited from Blue Valley, and came to see me at the hospital.
“Wally visited me?”
“Of course he did. He loves you and your nerd brain,” she says. “…And he wanted to see if he’d get zapped when he touched you.”
I laugh. He’s a good kid.
My apartment’s the same as I left it. A mess. Iris is right though, they did send me my diploma – it’s on the floor by the door, right next to a late rent notice. Mr. Shipp was nice enough to press pause on fees, I guess, at least until he heard that I woke up.
“Beats a hospital room, huh?” says Iris, making herself comfortable on my sofa.
“Yeah. There’s no place like home.”
She sits up a little straighter.
“Do you remember anything? From when it happened?”
“No, nothing. Just that I was doing cleanup at the lab.” I pause to think, scratching the back of my head. “I had these crazy dreams, though. I remember some of them, I think. Floating on the… the river of reality. Something like that.”
She looks amused. “Man, what kind of drugs were they giving you?”
“Oh, the best kind.”
She laughs.
“I missed you, Barry.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A comfortable silence settles between us. I join her on the sofa, picking up the TV remote from its resting place between two cushions, exactly where I’d left it. The way I see it, I have two months of television to catch up on, and there’s no better time to start than now. I flick it on, and Iris picks a show. We order pizza later, and before we know it the day’s turned into night.
Iris’ head falls gently onto my shoulder, asleep. She looks peaceful. I notice, not for the first time, how beautiful she is. Electricity tingles through my body.
Eventually, I feel the persuasive tug of sleep. Asleep for two months, and already I’m eager to get back to it. Hah.
I can only fight my eyelids for so long. As I let them close, I think strange thoughts – thoughts of time and blood. Lightning and thunder. Wild storms of life and entropy.
They feed into my dreams.
A student found me on the floor of CCU’s chemistry lab, surrounded by shards of hot glass with a smoldering hole in my lab coat. Apparently there were no clouds in the sky, which is weird, on account of the lightning that struck me – the local news attributed it to some sort of freak “flash storm”; there for long enough to fry me, but gone in time for the clock on the wall to tick past another second. I was taken to the hospital, where the staff spent most of the next eight weeks just… waiting for me to wake up. I recovered from the lightning strike pretty quickly, I guess – there were no burns, no blown eardrums or nerve damage. The only thing wrong with me was that I really liked to sleep.
I have no immediate family – none that can come visit me at the hospital, anyway – so once Iris found out I was being kept there, she got the orderlies to put her down as my emergency contact. When the doctor gave me the okay to leave, she was there to take me home.
“You missed graduation,” she says, eyes fixed on the road. Her hair’s longer. Past her shoulders now. She looks good.
“Damn it,” I say, “Three years of college in the trash. Guess I have to retake it. Ah, but the tuition…”
She takes her eyes off the road to give me a concerned look. “What will you do?”
“Sell my body. It’s the only logical option.”
“God, you’re so right. Tell me how it goes. I could use some extra money.”
We share a grin.
“How was graduation, anyway?” I ask.
“It was good. Pretty long. I think they sent your diploma to your apartment.”
“Oh, cool.”
My apartment’s a single room hole in Leawood, on the corner of Kanigher and Carmine. It’s in a squat old building, a little run down, but not enough to raise any red flags – just enough to know that yep, this is where a college graduate who got struck by lightning would live. Iris walks me inside and tries the elevator.
“Out of order? Still?”
“It’s like I was never in a coma.”
The walk up the stairs is slow, but nice. Iris catches me up on the past two months – she finally saved up for that new TV she’s had her eye on; she got offered a job at the newspaper she’d been interning at, the Citizen (“Holy – congrats!”); Wally, her nephew, visited from Blue Valley, and came to see me at the hospital.
“Wally visited me?”
“Of course he did. He loves you and your nerd brain,” she says. “…And he wanted to see if he’d get zapped when he touched you.”
I laugh. He’s a good kid.
My apartment’s the same as I left it. A mess. Iris is right though, they did send me my diploma – it’s on the floor by the door, right next to a late rent notice. Mr. Shipp was nice enough to press pause on fees, I guess, at least until he heard that I woke up.
“Beats a hospital room, huh?” says Iris, making herself comfortable on my sofa.
“Yeah. There’s no place like home.”
She sits up a little straighter.
“Do you remember anything? From when it happened?”
“No, nothing. Just that I was doing cleanup at the lab.” I pause to think, scratching the back of my head. “I had these crazy dreams, though. I remember some of them, I think. Floating on the… the river of reality. Something like that.”
She looks amused. “Man, what kind of drugs were they giving you?”
“Oh, the best kind.”
She laughs.
“I missed you, Barry.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A comfortable silence settles between us. I join her on the sofa, picking up the TV remote from its resting place between two cushions, exactly where I’d left it. The way I see it, I have two months of television to catch up on, and there’s no better time to start than now. I flick it on, and Iris picks a show. We order pizza later, and before we know it the day’s turned into night.
Iris’ head falls gently onto my shoulder, asleep. She looks peaceful. I notice, not for the first time, how beautiful she is. Electricity tingles through my body.
Eventually, I feel the persuasive tug of sleep. Asleep for two months, and already I’m eager to get back to it. Hah.
I can only fight my eyelids for so long. As I let them close, I think strange thoughts – thoughts of time and blood. Lightning and thunder. Wild storms of life and entropy.
They feed into my dreams.
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GreenGrenade
Member
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0-24 hrs ago
The Sparks is the defence mechanism.
The Sparks has the authority to take action to restore the balance.
J E N N Y S P A R K S
J E N N I F E R M E I S P A R K S ♦ F O R M E R L Y ██████████ ♦ L O C A T I O N U N K N O W N
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
To wake, and know
your heart sinks
dark and heavy,
hardening into stone...
Slowly the sea lifts its waves,
slowly the trees turn red in the gorge,
slowly the fires begin to lap in hell,
slowly the truth dawns...
O L A V H . H A U G E
your heart sinks
dark and heavy,
hardening into stone...
Slowly the sea lifts its waves,
slowly the trees turn red in the gorge,
slowly the fires begin to lap in hell,
slowly the truth dawns...
O L A V H . H A U G E
Jenny Sparks is sick of letting the world pass her by. So many years on this Earth, and what has she actually done? What has she achieved? Nothing. All she has to her name is a past she’s not proud of, the uncertainty of what she is, and the question of what she’s been brought here to do. She spends her days drinking and smoking her annoyingly long life away, doing nothing, achieving nothing. Being nothing. She reckons it’s about time she changed that.
Stryfe was an eye-opener. Watching America’s superheroes rally to defend the innocent made her realise something... they were doing it wrong. They’re disorganised, messy, reactionary. A far cry from the heroes they no doubt wanted to be. The world’s in a precarious place now, and shit could hit the fan at any second. It needs saving. But when the help you’ve got is just going to make things worse, what’s left for you to do?
Well, that’s easy. You’ve got to do it yourself.
Jenny’s new mission is going to thrust her back into a world she’s tried very hard to leave behind. Covert ops, secret intelligence organisations, superheroics, capes and powers and metaphysical superscientific bullshit. To make the world feel right again, she’s looking for a group of like-minded people – and her search is going to lead her right into the middle of the metahuman arms race.
Jenny is a very grumpy, old, powerful woman, and she’s done sitting on the sidelines.
Don’t piss her off.
Stryfe was an eye-opener. Watching America’s superheroes rally to defend the innocent made her realise something... they were doing it wrong. They’re disorganised, messy, reactionary. A far cry from the heroes they no doubt wanted to be. The world’s in a precarious place now, and shit could hit the fan at any second. It needs saving. But when the help you’ve got is just going to make things worse, what’s left for you to do?
Well, that’s easy. You’ve got to do it yourself.
Jenny’s new mission is going to thrust her back into a world she’s tried very hard to leave behind. Covert ops, secret intelligence organisations, superheroics, capes and powers and metaphysical superscientific bullshit. To make the world feel right again, she’s looking for a group of like-minded people – and her search is going to lead her right into the middle of the metahuman arms race.
Jenny is a very grumpy, old, powerful woman, and she’s done sitting on the sidelines.
Don’t piss her off.
C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:
Jenny’s spent her whole life (and that’s a lot of life) trying to figure out why she’s been put on this Earth. How is she over a hundred years old, but doesn’t look a day over twenty? How is it that she was born with powers, but doesn’t have a single metahuman gene in her body? How is she not dead yet? And just what the hell is she supposed to do with all these so-called gifts, which have thus far condemned her to a life full of bad decisions and countless disappointments? She still can’t answer most of those questions, but she thinks the last one might finally be in her ballpark. Maybe she’s supposed to save the world.
But to do that, she needs a team.
Through Jenny, I’ll be injecting some new, interesting concepts and characters from Warren Ellis’ Wildstorm catalogue into the Absolute Comics universe. I love these characters, and I’m excited for the chance to tell a story that can have far-reaching consequences not only for them, but for the Absolute universe as a whole.
But to do that, she needs a team.
Through Jenny, I’ll be injecting some new, interesting concepts and characters from Warren Ellis’ Wildstorm catalogue into the Absolute Comics universe. I love these characters, and I’m excited for the chance to tell a story that can have far-reaching consequences not only for them, but for the Absolute universe as a whole.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Apollo and the Midnighter. Data unavailable.
Battalion, Fahrenheit, Impetus and Winter. Data unavailable.
Henry Bendix. No known records in existence.
Cole Cash and Michael Cray, covert operatives specialising in wetworks.
Nick Fury, director of SHIELD.
Kaizen Gamorra, the dictator of a west Pacific island, indicted by the ICC on multiple counts of crimes against humanity.
Jack Hawksmoor, a powerful superhuman with a fractured mind.
Shen Li-Min. Winged metahuman.
Angela Spica, a gifted engineer and physicist working at Stark Industries’ R&D division.
John Stone, an intelligence operative with many black operations to his name. A former colleague of Jenny’s.
Jeroen Thornedike; the Doctor. Humanity’s shaman.
Miranda Zero, Jenny’s former colleague, an experienced HUMINT operative with an impressive resumé.
Battalion, Fahrenheit, Impetus and Winter. Data unavailable.
Henry Bendix. No known records in existence.
Cole Cash and Michael Cray, covert operatives specialising in wetworks.
Nick Fury, director of SHIELD.
Kaizen Gamorra, the dictator of a west Pacific island, indicted by the ICC on multiple counts of crimes against humanity.
Jack Hawksmoor, a powerful superhuman with a fractured mind.
Shen Li-Min. Winged metahuman.
Angela Spica, a gifted engineer and physicist working at Stark Industries’ R&D division.
John Stone, an intelligence operative with many black operations to his name. A former colleague of Jenny’s.
Jeroen Thornedike; the Doctor. Humanity’s shaman.
Miranda Zero, Jenny’s former colleague, an experienced HUMINT operative with an impressive resumé.
S A M P L E P O S T:
HELLO, WORLD
P A R T O N E :N I C K , O L D M A T E
"To wake, and know
your heart sinks
dark and heavy,
hardening into stone...
Slowly the sea lifts its waves,
slowly the trees turn red in the gorge,
slowly the fires begin to lap in hell,
slowly the truth dawns..."
O L A V H . H A U G E
your heart sinks
dark and heavy,
hardening into stone...
Slowly the sea lifts its waves,
slowly the trees turn red in the gorge,
slowly the fires begin to lap in hell,
slowly the truth dawns..."
O L A V H . H A U G E
P O S T C A T A L O G U E:
# 1 | H E L L O , W O R L D
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01. Nick, Old Mate
02. God of the Cities
03. Odinsrage
04. Pigtown
05. After Action
02. God of the Cities
03. Odinsrage
04. Pigtown
05. After Action
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GreenGrenade
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
The disir call me home,
Whom Óđin hastens onward
From his hall, to take me.
On the high bench, boldly,
Beer I’ll drink with the gods;
Hope of life is lost now —
Laughing I shall die!"
R A G N A R L O Đ B R Ó K
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T H O R
"I desire my death now.The disir call me home,
Whom Óđin hastens onward
From his hall, to take me.
On the high bench, boldly,
Beer I’ll drink with the gods;
Hope of life is lost now —
Laughing I shall die!"
R A G N A R L O Đ B R Ó K
T H E T H U N D E R E R ♦ L O C A T I O N U N K N O W N ♦ F O R M E R L Y
O F T H E A E S I R
O F T H E A E S I R
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"I am tired, Heimdall.
All of the half-truths, the lies...
I did not wish to come back here."
T H O R
All of the half-truths, the lies...
I did not wish to come back here."
T H O R
A millennium ago, the last of the pagan Northmen renounced their beliefs in the Aesir and the Vanir. The death of the great jӧtunn, Ymir, was replaced by Genesis; Valhǫll and Hel replaced by Heaven and Hell; the world tree, Yggdrasil, all but discarded; and the many gods and goddesses of Ásgarđr replaced by just one, the Christ-God. But there was a time before, when the Northmen still sailed to conquer new lands, that they would worship the cunning Óđin, the mighty Thor, the beautiful Freyja and mischievous Loki. Their stories would be passed on from parent to child, warrior to warrior, farmer to farmer – and although the truths in these stories would get lost amid retellings and revisions, there were those who knew them well. Those such as Ragnar Lođbrók, legendary king of the Danes, and friend to Rymr – who, illuminated by hearthfire and as impassioned as in battle, would tell his sons the true stories of the gods.
But there is something that not Ragnar, not the Northmen, not even the Gods accounted for. Thor is not in Ásgarđr anymore.
“Thor is the god of thunder; the son of the All-Father, Óđin, and the jӧtunn woman, Jӧrđ. He is the protector of the Aesir, sworn guardian of Ásgarđr, and wielder of the great hammer, Mjölnir. He was born with hair as red as blood and bright as flames, his eyes as blue as lightning; and as he grew from boy to man his body changed into that of a great warrior, his godly strength proving to be greater than both the Aesir’s and the Vanir’s combined. Long ago, when his youthful energy was more explosive than the thunderous sky, he was gifted with his first weapon by the dwarves of Niđavellir – Járnbjӧrn, the battle axe. With it he honed his skills as a warrior, and battled many a jӧtunn, until he became known as their scourge.
“His home is Bilskirnir, the largest hall in Ásgarđr; his realm, Thruđheimr. He shares it with Sif, his wife, the goddess of grain and harvest, and his children: Magni, Mođi, Thruđr, and his stepson, Ullr. He has travelled deep into Jotunheim, and emerged victorious. He has bested Útgarđa-Loki, and killed Hrungnir. He blesses us on our raids in faraway lands, and gives us fertile soil so that we may last the harsh winter. With Mjölnir, most powerful weapon in all the Nine Realms, he is fiercer than storms; with us, on Miđgarđr, he is good, and gentle, and terrible. He is Thor. He is our friend. Destined is he to kill the Midgard Serpent, Jörmungandr... just as the Serpent is destined to kill him, when Ragnarök comes, destroying everything, and everyone.”
“His home is Bilskirnir, the largest hall in Ásgarđr; his realm, Thruđheimr. He shares it with Sif, his wife, the goddess of grain and harvest, and his children: Magni, Mođi, Thruđr, and his stepson, Ullr. He has travelled deep into Jotunheim, and emerged victorious. He has bested Útgarđa-Loki, and killed Hrungnir. He blesses us on our raids in faraway lands, and gives us fertile soil so that we may last the harsh winter. With Mjölnir, most powerful weapon in all the Nine Realms, he is fiercer than storms; with us, on Miđgarđr, he is good, and gentle, and terrible. He is Thor. He is our friend. Destined is he to kill the Midgard Serpent, Jörmungandr... just as the Serpent is destined to kill him, when Ragnarök comes, destroying everything, and everyone.”
But there is something that not Ragnar, not the Northmen, not even the Gods accounted for. Thor is not in Ásgarđr anymore.
C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:
This isn't Kirby and Lee's Thor. Asgard (rendered as Ásgarđr) isn't a grand, golden metropolis, and its gods aren't extra-dimensional aliens. They are gods. This Thor has a much firmer basis in the original Norse myths, grounding him in what I believe is a far more epic, and at the same time personal interpretation of the Aesir.
Thor has divorced himself from Ásgarđr and the rest of the gods at the start of our story. No one knows where he is. All anyone can say is that he left, leaving behind his family and his people for Miđgarđr, to live among the mortals – and that if it were up to him, he’d never come back. Unfortunately for him, Fate has other plans. Thor’s going to find himself drawn back into the mythical world of the Aesir, confronting the demons of their past while preparing for their future. Fate waits for no one, after all, and although it can be delayed, Ragnarök is set in stone.
For the purposes of this concept, the mortal world is unaware of the gods’ existence – as far as humanity knows, the Norse, the Greco-Romans, the Egyptians, the Abrahamic God, and the world’s other deities are pure myth and scripture. The only footprints these gods have left on the world lie in their stories, traditions and beliefs. As humanity is going to find out, though... the gods are very real.
And they will all have a part to play.
Thor has divorced himself from Ásgarđr and the rest of the gods at the start of our story. No one knows where he is. All anyone can say is that he left, leaving behind his family and his people for Miđgarđr, to live among the mortals – and that if it were up to him, he’d never come back. Unfortunately for him, Fate has other plans. Thor’s going to find himself drawn back into the mythical world of the Aesir, confronting the demons of their past while preparing for their future. Fate waits for no one, after all, and although it can be delayed, Ragnarök is set in stone.
For the purposes of this concept, the mortal world is unaware of the gods’ existence – as far as humanity knows, the Norse, the Greco-Romans, the Egyptians, the Abrahamic God, and the world’s other deities are pure myth and scripture. The only footprints these gods have left on the world lie in their stories, traditions and beliefs. As humanity is going to find out, though... the gods are very real.
And they will all have a part to play.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Baldr, god of purity and brother of Thor.
Bragi, poet of Valhǫll, husband of Iđunn.
Forseti, the law god, son of Baldr and Nanna and nephew of Thor.
Freyja, the beautiful Vanir goddess of love, wealth and fertility, leader of the Valkyrjur, and a powerful practitioner of seiđr magic.
Freyr, brother of Freya, Vanir god of fertility and ruler of Álfheimr, realm of the light elves.
Frigg, wife of Óđin, practitioner of magic – vӧlva.
Heimdall, brother of Thor, watchman of the gods, and guardian of Bifröst, the bridge that connects Ásgarđr and Miđgarđr.
Hermođr, messenger of the gods, brother of Thor.
Hođr, the blind god, son of Óđin.
Iđunn, the keeper of the Fruits of Immortality, the keys to the Aesir’s longevity.
Loki, the trickster jӧtunn, and blood brother of Óđin.
Magni, Mođi and Thruđr, children of thunder.
Mimir, beheaded counselor of the gods.
Njorđr, Vanir god of the sea, and father of Freyja and Freyr.
Óđin, All-Father of the Aesir; wily, manipulative and obsessed with Fate. God of poetry, war and the gallows, patron of rulers and outlaws.
Sif, goddess of grain and harvest, and the estranged wife of Thor. Her beauty is second only to Freya's.
Týr, god of war and justice, brother of Thor. The One-Handed. Among the fiercest of the Aesir.
Ullr, son of Sif, god of the hunt.
Vali, son of Óđin and the jӧtunn, Rindr.
Viđar, the silent god.
Vili and Vé, brothers of Óđin.
Bragi, poet of Valhǫll, husband of Iđunn.
Forseti, the law god, son of Baldr and Nanna and nephew of Thor.
Freyja, the beautiful Vanir goddess of love, wealth and fertility, leader of the Valkyrjur, and a powerful practitioner of seiđr magic.
Freyr, brother of Freya, Vanir god of fertility and ruler of Álfheimr, realm of the light elves.
Frigg, wife of Óđin, practitioner of magic – vӧlva.
Heimdall, brother of Thor, watchman of the gods, and guardian of Bifröst, the bridge that connects Ásgarđr and Miđgarđr.
Hermođr, messenger of the gods, brother of Thor.
Hođr, the blind god, son of Óđin.
Iđunn, the keeper of the Fruits of Immortality, the keys to the Aesir’s longevity.
Loki, the trickster jӧtunn, and blood brother of Óđin.
Magni, Mođi and Thruđr, children of thunder.
Mimir, beheaded counselor of the gods.
Njorđr, Vanir god of the sea, and father of Freyja and Freyr.
Óđin, All-Father of the Aesir; wily, manipulative and obsessed with Fate. God of poetry, war and the gallows, patron of rulers and outlaws.
Sif, goddess of grain and harvest, and the estranged wife of Thor. Her beauty is second only to Freya's.
Týr, god of war and justice, brother of Thor. The One-Handed. Among the fiercest of the Aesir.
Ullr, son of Sif, god of the hunt.
Vali, son of Óđin and the jӧtunn, Rindr.
Viđar, the silent god.
Vili and Vé, brothers of Óđin.
Agnar, Björn, Eirik, Hvítserk, Ívar, Rognvald, Sigurđ, and Ubba, the sons of Ragnar.
Barbára Nórisdóttir, a nineteen year-old girl from Reykjavik, Iceland.
Jane Foster, a doctor who's made friends with the man she calls Donald Blake, often visiting him on his property.
Ragnar Lođbrók, a king of the Danes.
Thjálfi and Röskva, Thor's former servants from a time long past.
Barbára Nórisdóttir, a nineteen year-old girl from Reykjavik, Iceland.
Jane Foster, a doctor who's made friends with the man she calls Donald Blake, often visiting him on his property.
Ragnar Lođbrók, a king of the Danes.
Thjálfi and Röskva, Thor's former servants from a time long past.
S A M P L E P O S T:
S A G A
C H A P T E R O N E :T H E M A N C A L L E D D O N A L D B L A K E
"He knows alone who has wandered wide,
and far has fared on the way,
what manner of mind a man doth own
who is wise of head and heart."
H Á V A M Á L
S A Y I N G S O F T H E H I G H O N E
and far has fared on the way,
what manner of mind a man doth own
who is wise of head and heart."
H Á V A M Á L
S A Y I N G S O F T H E H I G H O N E
P O S T C A T A L O G:
▼ B O O K O N E : S A G A
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01. The Man Called Donald Blake
N O T E :
I’ve been somewhat selective with the renderings of Old Norse names here. Many are anglicised, but most are written in ways that better represent how they may have been pronounced during the Iron Age. With the latter, you’ll likely see this letter, đ, representing the sound of a soft th. This means that Óđin, for example, is pronounced Othin instead of Odin, which is pretty wild – but it’s the more accurate pronunciation of the two, so you’ll either have to get used to it or keep reading it as Odin, I dunno, I’m not the boss of you.
Now, in the Eddic texts and Old Norse in general, some instances of th are rendered as ð, but given that it looks whack in Arial and is prone to getting confused with o, I’ve gone with its less common straight-backed version đ as a compromise.
I’m not just pulling all this out of my arse, I promise – I have Old Norse specialist Dr. Jackson Crawford to thank, who also uses đ in his translations and is a gift to humanity who should be cherished always. Thanks, Daddy Crawford.
Now, in the Eddic texts and Old Norse in general, some instances of th are rendered as ð, but given that it looks whack in Arial and is prone to getting confused with o, I’ve gone with its less common straight-backed version đ as a compromise.
I’m not just pulling all this out of my arse, I promise – I have Old Norse specialist Dr. Jackson Crawford to thank, who also uses đ in his translations and is a gift to humanity who should be cherished always. Thanks, Daddy Crawford.
G L O S S A R Y :
A list of the Old Norse words and phrases used by Thor and the rest of the Aesir, updated regularly as they appear in-story.
W O R D S
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P H R A S E S
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W O R D S
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P H R A S E S
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Artwork by Maximilian Jasionowski
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GreenGrenade
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0-24 hrs ago
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
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F R E D D I E M Y E R S
F R E D E R I C K M Y E R S ♦ H I G H S C H O O L G R A D U A T E ♦ B R I S B A N E , A U S T R A L I A
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
Let them know who's king.
This is the story of a group of kids who are exposed to a world they don’t belong to, set in the very real, very dark streets of Australia’s Sunshine State. A very different interpretation of Myers, and for all intents and purposes, his origin story.
C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:
Freddie’s an aimless high school graduate who’s wasting his life right out the gate. He hangs out with people who are just as aimless as he is, and is bound to them by a misguided sense of loyalty and blood brotherhood. It’s this bond that gets him involved in some shady shit, and sees him drawn into a world of violent crime that he’ll find very difficult to get out of.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
John “Johno” Allerdyce, fellow dropkick, best mate.
Hugh “Hughie” Dawkins, the most well-adjusted of Freddie’s mates.
Brian “Roo” Hibbs, amateur boxer, best mate.
Marc Reimer, local drug dealer.
Hugh “Hughie” Dawkins, the most well-adjusted of Freddie’s mates.
Brian “Roo” Hibbs, amateur boxer, best mate.
Marc Reimer, local drug dealer.
Jacquelyn Myers, Fred’s mum. Separated, currently dating Darryl.
Stan Myers, Fred’s dad. Separated.
Darryl, Jacquelyn’s boyfriend.
Stan Myers, Fred’s dad. Separated.
Darryl, Jacquelyn’s boyfriend.
Inspector William “Bill” Chance, inspector in the Queensland Police Service. Stormy Foster’s partner.
Inspector Jason “Stormy” Foster, inspector in the Queensland Police Service. Bill Chance’s partner.
Inspector Jason “Stormy” Foster, inspector in the Queensland Police Service. Bill Chance’s partner.
Miles Warbeck, crime boss based in Surfers Paradise.
Davis Warbeck, Miles’ son. Involved in his father’s organisation.
Heather Warbeck, lifeguard. Miles’ daughter. Affiliated with the Warbeck syndicate by name only.
Grizzly Winchester, a lieutenant of Warbeck’s.
Davis Warbeck, Miles’ son. Involved in his father’s organisation.
Heather Warbeck, lifeguard. Miles’ daughter. Affiliated with the Warbeck syndicate by name only.
Grizzly Winchester, a lieutenant of Warbeck’s.
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