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[OOC] Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within Page 79
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Lord Wraith Actually Three Otters in a Trenchcoat
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@Inkarnate, @ComradeMaxx, @Star Lord, @Dblade26, and @Ceta de Cloyes. Sorry to see each and everyone of you go. Best of luck with your future RP endeavors and each of you are welcome to return if the mood strikes.
Thanks for the time and dedication each of you gave to the game and each of you will be missed.
Thanks for the time and dedication each of you gave to the game and each of you will be missed.
Master Bruce Winged Freak
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Seen
10 hrs ago
The supporting character tab is subject to change per anyone's objections/any conflicts with established continuity/anyone's future plans that I don't wanna mess with. That said...
For as long as he can remember, Hal Jordan had one singular ambition: to be a fighter pilot, just like his dad. While his brothers Jim and Jack had never quite taken after their dad's predilection for daredevil antics and high-flying feats of aviation, Hal wanted to experience everything his father had told him about it. Late at night, the elder Jordan would sneak his boy out and take him on solo flights, allowing Hal to gaze up at the stars and dream. It was the greatest moment of his life, and the one that set his life's path forever. But all good things inevitably come to an end, and for Hal, that end came with the tragic death of his idol. After making a series of grave miscalculations during a routine flight for a local stunt show, Martin Jordan perished in the midst of an explosion that Hal was unfortunately present to witness. The memory would haunt him forever, as he clutched onto the bomber jacket that Martin had told him to keep safe until the fire department had to forcibly pry it away in order to take him to a hospital.
In a state of extreme grief, Hal's mother forbade him or his brothers from ever flying. They wouldn't even be allowed on commercial airliners until they were old enough to leave the house. But Hal rebelled, studying for his pilot's licence by the age of 16 and looking to enlist in the US Air Force when he turned 18. Though he was turned down for disobeying his instructing officer, Hal's determination never wavered, and he found himself applying for the position of test pilot for Ferris Airlines. After his mother died of complications due to ovarian cancer, Hal's older brother blamed him for killing her with his recklessness, creating a rift between them that would never truly mend. He took out his grief in a bar fight with a redheaded punk named Gardner that night, and ended up totaling his car on a drunken drive home. It landed him with a stint in jail five years probation.
To no surprise, then, did Hal's first test flight with Ferris the following week end in complete and utter disaster. After lying about his credentials and playing up his connection to the famous Martin Jordan, Hal was immediately proven to be nothing more than an amatuer when allowed into the cockpit on his own for the first time. He crashed a state-of-the-art jet that was going to secure Ferris' place in the next arm's race, likely securing a contract with Stark Industries. Both enraged over this incident and another involving his young daughter Carol the day before, Carl Ferris immediately sought to ground Jordan permanently - and did so by sending him to the worst dead-end assignment in all of Coast City, working the scrapyard for Ferris' decommissioned jets. Along with his friend Thomas Kalmaku, Hal would spend the rest of his days there fixing up planes, getting into fights with hotshot pilots who talked down to him, and getting drunk while his life spiraled out of control.
Eventually, he settled into his position, and had accepted his fate - until today, when fate would come calling his name.
Literally.
I'm not gonna mince words: this Hal Jordan is, by and large, a complete fuck-up. He's not a hotshot pilot with daring moves who's too good at his job for anyone to understand, and he's not a rebel without a cause that manages to scrape by because he's a reckless idiot. He's just a reckless idiot who managed to screw up what used to be his biggest opportunity in the world. This is the story of how a fuck-up can be granted a second chance at fucking up, probably be pretty bad at that too, but learning enough of a lesson that he doesn't die when all's said and done.
As for why I wanted to play this character, I've done my fair share of grim and gritty vigilante stuff for as long as I can remember. I was actually going to apply for two seperate archetypes of that same character before I settled on this when I realized that it wasn't what I really wanted. So doing an approximation of Star Wars: Superhero Edition sounded like a nice change of pace. And doing Hal Jordan from the ground up in a way that doesn't paint him as the end-all, be-all wielder of the ring is an idea that's appealed to me for awhile, and never really something I ever thought I'd try. But, well, here I am.
I've been a fan of Green Lantern since I was a kid, watching Superman: The Animated Series introduce Kyle Rayner in such a great and simple way that expanded the world of the Green Lantern Corps to me. So much so that when Geoff Johns took over the title and reimagined a large portion of the GL mythos, I was onboard. However, with hindsight, I see alot of flaws with Johns' portrayal of Hal and his shafting of the other Lanterns' legacies, so I want to do the character right and try and earn something of a level playing field for characters like Kyle Rayner, John Stewart, Guy Gardner, Jessica Cruz, and Simon Baz - who I'm hoping will be able to pop up in my story along the way, in some shape or form. Though I'm also perfectly willing to work with anyone who wants to play them, too.
And in a notable change, The Green Lanterns aren't the ruling color class pf the emotional spectrum that the Guardians Of The Universe yield exclusively. They enlist Blue Lanterns, Star Sapphires, The Indigo Tribe, The Honor Guard and the Alpha Lanterns to make up a more diverse Corps called the Universal Lantern Corps. Greens are simply the SWAT unit, essentially, of the Guardians' overall peacekeeping organization.
Supporting Cast (Earth)
Carol Ferris
Thomas Kalmaku
Whitney Frost
Dr. Hector Hammond
William Hand
Carl 'Crusher' Creel
Arthur Parks
Alan Scott
Supporting Cast (Lantern Corps)*
Abin Sur - Soon To Be Deceased
The Guardians Of The Universe
Thaal Sinestro
Mantis (Barring acceptance from @HenryJonesJr)
Tomar-Re
Starfox/Eros Of Titan
Kilowag
Phyla-Vell
C'hp
*Future Lanterns such as Kyle, Jessica, Simon, John, and Guy may appear in cameo roles, unless an extended period of time with no applications allows for them to be expanded upon.
Supporting Cast (Villains)
Krona
Legion
Terrax
The Manhunters
Atrocitus
Larfleeze
Annihilus
Coast City, California
Ferris Airlines Tarmac
1:53 PM
You ever have one of those 'floating' dreams?
Y'know the one. You're soaring high above the clouds, looking down at the miniscule little specs of structures that would normally tower above you. The wind in your hair, the breeze on your face, the little voice in your head telling you that it's not real - only for you to say 'to hell with it' and ignore any sense of logic or reason, because goddammit, you're flying and nobody can take it away from you. Nobody and nothing. Except reality, when you finally wake up and realize that you were never up there at all. See, that's the moment that kills you the most. The dread of a so-called normal existence, where you're not rising above your challenges, but facing them head-on. Losing, most of the time, against the elements stacked in your way. But you still cling to that moment. The idea that whenever you're done, you have another chance to soar. Another chance to make your problems go away, forever.
I've been chasing that dream since I was too young to remember. My brother used to tell me it was just because I was a stupid pilot's son and that's all I could ever hope to amount to be. But my brother was a prick like that. Always trying to tether me to the ground, when I belonged up there. Among the clouds, looking down on the world that'd make me want to wish I'd never dare dream to be alive. Well, I decided to do something about it. Worked my tail off until I couldn't stand it, then pushed myself further. Got my pilot's liscence the day I turned 20. And then, whenever I got an actual shot at taking to the skies without an instructor looking over my shoulder, I sure showed them all.
I showed them that they were right.
I had no business being up there.
Crashed and burned the first flight I ever manned solo. Funny how life works like that. I got an instant demotion from test pilot for Ferris Airlines to field mechanic for Ferris Airlines' scrapheap of the dead, trying to restore old fighter jets that'll get decommissioned and paraded around at museums. The place you get sent whenever you've screwed up so royally that nobody wants to hear your all-bark, no-bite schtick anymore. When you've proven to the world that you are a complete and utter loser who dared to dream big and landed flat on his face.
"Hal? Hey, Highball! You care to join us back on Earth, or did you want to daydream the entire shift away?"
I look away from the airfield just a mile off from our workstation as my buddy, Tom, hands me a socket wrench as he wipes fresh oil from his forehead. He and I have been working our asses off in 98 degree weather trying to make this old, rusted Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor look like it didn't take a nosedive into the Pacific for the last few months. So far, we've only managed to strip it for parts and complete a partial restoration on the left wing. Still alot of months to go, and for pay that barely makes the rent, let alone any affordable conditions. Me, I never minded sleeping a couple of nights in the truck. Tom, on the other hand...
"What, afraid you'd have to do the heavy lifting for a change?"
Tom sneers as I grin back, zipping up the front of my coveralls. The walking oven, as we've taken to calling it. Wiping the bead of sweat from my brow, I duck under the wing and make way for the jet engine that my esteemed colleague was so delicately trying to pry from it's titanium casket.
"Hell no. If I'm lucky, I get that thing loosened enough that it falls and breaks every bone in my body. Then I can sue for worker's comp, move to Florida and live the rest of my days far away from this place."
I laugh to myself.
"Roger that. Come on, let ole' Junkyard Jordan assess the damage..."
After gulping down a heavy swig of water, Tom walks over and leans above the engine's hull, just where I've slid myself under to finish where he started.
"Man, I'm starting to think that's a serious ambition. You know what I mean? This place is sinking faster than the damn Titanic, and I seriously doubt a couple of grease monkeys like us have much in the way of job security."
I grimace as the humidity jumps to what feels like another thousand degrees.
"You stripped the bolt. Think you can interrupt your death wish long enough to hand me the drill?"
He slaps the side of the engine just to mess with me, but obliges. I pull on my gloves and strap a welding mask on. Gonna see some sparks fly before this thing so much as budges.
"I think you're overreacting, pal. Ferris hasn't been in business since '59 just to tank over a couple of lousy performance reviews. They've seen their share of bad publicity in the past, but hey, that's the business. Tell me that Virgin or Southwest hasn't looked worse in the last month compared to us."
"You sound like you're paraphrasing the brochure, Hal."
"Well, maybe a little."
Tom shakes his head and heads off to his break as I begin to drill into the rusted shaft holding this stubborn bolt. Sure, I mostly said all that to assure him that things weren't going to hell, but I honestly don't know if I'd be all that broken up to see an early foreclosure. I mean yeah, these guys were the first to give me my shot at the big time - or at least, what I thought was the big time five years ago - but they put me out to pasture within the same month I signed on. I've been laboring away at this dump ever since, and the only way I think I'll grow a pair and leave is if they fire me or shut it down.
Especially after the boss caught me and his daughter doing the, uh...
Well, the thing all boys and girls like to do when they're old enough.
Hell, even that's putting it generously. We were making out in a broom closet, for Christ's sake. And after that, did I get so much as a phone number from Ms. Holier-Than-Thou herself, Carol Ferris? Nope. Nada. Hear she's seeing some physicist, these days. I pity the guy. All those degrees, and he falls head over heels for the single most stuck-up b...
I shoot straight up so fast that I forget where I am for the moment, instantly hitting my head on a solid slab of titanium. Removing the now freshly cracked welding mask - nice one, Jordan, they're surely not about to dock any of your pay for that - I roll out from underneath the turbine and look around, partially startled. Whoever was calling out to me said my name in the loudest tone I've ever heard in my life. And yet, looking around... I don't see a damned thing.
"Uh... present?"
Great... fear? Corps?
What the hell is this guy talking ab---
I don't even have time to think before the world starts turning colors on me. At first, I think it's a hallucination. Like the heat's getting to me, or something, and I'm having one of those prior-to-blackout moments that everyone who's experienced heat exhaustion has ever talked about. But the world starts to get a little brighter as the color engulfs my body entirely, and I suddenly feel like...
Well, like I'm floating on air.
Holy flipping mother of...!
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
T H E G R E E N L A N T E R N
HAROLD 'HAL' JORDAN ♦ FIELD MECHANIC / SPACE COP ♦ COAST CITY, CALIFORNIA ♦ UNIVERSAL LANTERN CORPS
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"You can't forsee all the consequences of your actions - but that's no excuse to do nothing."
For as long as he can remember, Hal Jordan had one singular ambition: to be a fighter pilot, just like his dad. While his brothers Jim and Jack had never quite taken after their dad's predilection for daredevil antics and high-flying feats of aviation, Hal wanted to experience everything his father had told him about it. Late at night, the elder Jordan would sneak his boy out and take him on solo flights, allowing Hal to gaze up at the stars and dream. It was the greatest moment of his life, and the one that set his life's path forever. But all good things inevitably come to an end, and for Hal, that end came with the tragic death of his idol. After making a series of grave miscalculations during a routine flight for a local stunt show, Martin Jordan perished in the midst of an explosion that Hal was unfortunately present to witness. The memory would haunt him forever, as he clutched onto the bomber jacket that Martin had told him to keep safe until the fire department had to forcibly pry it away in order to take him to a hospital.
In a state of extreme grief, Hal's mother forbade him or his brothers from ever flying. They wouldn't even be allowed on commercial airliners until they were old enough to leave the house. But Hal rebelled, studying for his pilot's licence by the age of 16 and looking to enlist in the US Air Force when he turned 18. Though he was turned down for disobeying his instructing officer, Hal's determination never wavered, and he found himself applying for the position of test pilot for Ferris Airlines. After his mother died of complications due to ovarian cancer, Hal's older brother blamed him for killing her with his recklessness, creating a rift between them that would never truly mend. He took out his grief in a bar fight with a redheaded punk named Gardner that night, and ended up totaling his car on a drunken drive home. It landed him with a stint in jail five years probation.
To no surprise, then, did Hal's first test flight with Ferris the following week end in complete and utter disaster. After lying about his credentials and playing up his connection to the famous Martin Jordan, Hal was immediately proven to be nothing more than an amatuer when allowed into the cockpit on his own for the first time. He crashed a state-of-the-art jet that was going to secure Ferris' place in the next arm's race, likely securing a contract with Stark Industries. Both enraged over this incident and another involving his young daughter Carol the day before, Carl Ferris immediately sought to ground Jordan permanently - and did so by sending him to the worst dead-end assignment in all of Coast City, working the scrapyard for Ferris' decommissioned jets. Along with his friend Thomas Kalmaku, Hal would spend the rest of his days there fixing up planes, getting into fights with hotshot pilots who talked down to him, and getting drunk while his life spiraled out of control.
Eventually, he settled into his position, and had accepted his fate - until today, when fate would come calling his name.
Literally.
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:
I'm not gonna mince words: this Hal Jordan is, by and large, a complete fuck-up. He's not a hotshot pilot with daring moves who's too good at his job for anyone to understand, and he's not a rebel without a cause that manages to scrape by because he's a reckless idiot. He's just a reckless idiot who managed to screw up what used to be his biggest opportunity in the world. This is the story of how a fuck-up can be granted a second chance at fucking up, probably be pretty bad at that too, but learning enough of a lesson that he doesn't die when all's said and done.
As for why I wanted to play this character, I've done my fair share of grim and gritty vigilante stuff for as long as I can remember. I was actually going to apply for two seperate archetypes of that same character before I settled on this when I realized that it wasn't what I really wanted. So doing an approximation of Star Wars: Superhero Edition sounded like a nice change of pace. And doing Hal Jordan from the ground up in a way that doesn't paint him as the end-all, be-all wielder of the ring is an idea that's appealed to me for awhile, and never really something I ever thought I'd try. But, well, here I am.
I've been a fan of Green Lantern since I was a kid, watching Superman: The Animated Series introduce Kyle Rayner in such a great and simple way that expanded the world of the Green Lantern Corps to me. So much so that when Geoff Johns took over the title and reimagined a large portion of the GL mythos, I was onboard. However, with hindsight, I see alot of flaws with Johns' portrayal of Hal and his shafting of the other Lanterns' legacies, so I want to do the character right and try and earn something of a level playing field for characters like Kyle Rayner, John Stewart, Guy Gardner, Jessica Cruz, and Simon Baz - who I'm hoping will be able to pop up in my story along the way, in some shape or form. Though I'm also perfectly willing to work with anyone who wants to play them, too.
And in a notable change, The Green Lanterns aren't the ruling color class pf the emotional spectrum that the Guardians Of The Universe yield exclusively. They enlist Blue Lanterns, Star Sapphires, The Indigo Tribe, The Honor Guard and the Alpha Lanterns to make up a more diverse Corps called the Universal Lantern Corps. Greens are simply the SWAT unit, essentially, of the Guardians' overall peacekeeping organization.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Supporting Cast (Earth)
Carol Ferris
Thomas Kalmaku
Whitney Frost
Dr. Hector Hammond
William Hand
Carl 'Crusher' Creel
Arthur Parks
Alan Scott
Supporting Cast (Lantern Corps)*
Abin Sur - Soon To Be Deceased
The Guardians Of The Universe
Thaal Sinestro
Mantis (Barring acceptance from @HenryJonesJr)
Tomar-Re
Starfox/Eros Of Titan
Kilowag
Phyla-Vell
C'hp
*Future Lanterns such as Kyle, Jessica, Simon, John, and Guy may appear in cameo roles, unless an extended period of time with no applications allows for them to be expanded upon.
Supporting Cast (Villains)
Krona
Legion
Terrax
The Manhunters
Atrocitus
Larfleeze
Annihilus
S A M P L E P O S T:
Coast City, California
Ferris Airlines Tarmac
1:53 PM
You ever have one of those 'floating' dreams?
Y'know the one. You're soaring high above the clouds, looking down at the miniscule little specs of structures that would normally tower above you. The wind in your hair, the breeze on your face, the little voice in your head telling you that it's not real - only for you to say 'to hell with it' and ignore any sense of logic or reason, because goddammit, you're flying and nobody can take it away from you. Nobody and nothing. Except reality, when you finally wake up and realize that you were never up there at all. See, that's the moment that kills you the most. The dread of a so-called normal existence, where you're not rising above your challenges, but facing them head-on. Losing, most of the time, against the elements stacked in your way. But you still cling to that moment. The idea that whenever you're done, you have another chance to soar. Another chance to make your problems go away, forever.
I've been chasing that dream since I was too young to remember. My brother used to tell me it was just because I was a stupid pilot's son and that's all I could ever hope to amount to be. But my brother was a prick like that. Always trying to tether me to the ground, when I belonged up there. Among the clouds, looking down on the world that'd make me want to wish I'd never dare dream to be alive. Well, I decided to do something about it. Worked my tail off until I couldn't stand it, then pushed myself further. Got my pilot's liscence the day I turned 20. And then, whenever I got an actual shot at taking to the skies without an instructor looking over my shoulder, I sure showed them all.
I showed them that they were right.
I had no business being up there.
Crashed and burned the first flight I ever manned solo. Funny how life works like that. I got an instant demotion from test pilot for Ferris Airlines to field mechanic for Ferris Airlines' scrapheap of the dead, trying to restore old fighter jets that'll get decommissioned and paraded around at museums. The place you get sent whenever you've screwed up so royally that nobody wants to hear your all-bark, no-bite schtick anymore. When you've proven to the world that you are a complete and utter loser who dared to dream big and landed flat on his face.
"Hal? Hey, Highball! You care to join us back on Earth, or did you want to daydream the entire shift away?"
I look away from the airfield just a mile off from our workstation as my buddy, Tom, hands me a socket wrench as he wipes fresh oil from his forehead. He and I have been working our asses off in 98 degree weather trying to make this old, rusted Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor look like it didn't take a nosedive into the Pacific for the last few months. So far, we've only managed to strip it for parts and complete a partial restoration on the left wing. Still alot of months to go, and for pay that barely makes the rent, let alone any affordable conditions. Me, I never minded sleeping a couple of nights in the truck. Tom, on the other hand...
"What, afraid you'd have to do the heavy lifting for a change?"
Tom sneers as I grin back, zipping up the front of my coveralls. The walking oven, as we've taken to calling it. Wiping the bead of sweat from my brow, I duck under the wing and make way for the jet engine that my esteemed colleague was so delicately trying to pry from it's titanium casket.
"Hell no. If I'm lucky, I get that thing loosened enough that it falls and breaks every bone in my body. Then I can sue for worker's comp, move to Florida and live the rest of my days far away from this place."
I laugh to myself.
"Roger that. Come on, let ole' Junkyard Jordan assess the damage..."
After gulping down a heavy swig of water, Tom walks over and leans above the engine's hull, just where I've slid myself under to finish where he started.
"Man, I'm starting to think that's a serious ambition. You know what I mean? This place is sinking faster than the damn Titanic, and I seriously doubt a couple of grease monkeys like us have much in the way of job security."
I grimace as the humidity jumps to what feels like another thousand degrees.
"You stripped the bolt. Think you can interrupt your death wish long enough to hand me the drill?"
He slaps the side of the engine just to mess with me, but obliges. I pull on my gloves and strap a welding mask on. Gonna see some sparks fly before this thing so much as budges.
"I think you're overreacting, pal. Ferris hasn't been in business since '59 just to tank over a couple of lousy performance reviews. They've seen their share of bad publicity in the past, but hey, that's the business. Tell me that Virgin or Southwest hasn't looked worse in the last month compared to us."
"You sound like you're paraphrasing the brochure, Hal."
"Well, maybe a little."
Tom shakes his head and heads off to his break as I begin to drill into the rusted shaft holding this stubborn bolt. Sure, I mostly said all that to assure him that things weren't going to hell, but I honestly don't know if I'd be all that broken up to see an early foreclosure. I mean yeah, these guys were the first to give me my shot at the big time - or at least, what I thought was the big time five years ago - but they put me out to pasture within the same month I signed on. I've been laboring away at this dump ever since, and the only way I think I'll grow a pair and leave is if they fire me or shut it down.
Especially after the boss caught me and his daughter doing the, uh...
Well, the thing all boys and girls like to do when they're old enough.
Hell, even that's putting it generously. We were making out in a broom closet, for Christ's sake. And after that, did I get so much as a phone number from Ms. Holier-Than-Thou herself, Carol Ferris? Nope. Nada. Hear she's seeing some physicist, these days. I pity the guy. All those degrees, and he falls head over heels for the single most stuck-up b...
HAL JORDAN
I shoot straight up so fast that I forget where I am for the moment, instantly hitting my head on a solid slab of titanium. Removing the now freshly cracked welding mask - nice one, Jordan, they're surely not about to dock any of your pay for that - I roll out from underneath the turbine and look around, partially startled. Whoever was calling out to me said my name in the loudest tone I've ever heard in my life. And yet, looking around... I don't see a damned thing.
"Uh... present?"
YOU POSSESS THE ABILITY TO OVERCOME GREAT FEAR
YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED FOR THE CORPS
YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED FOR THE CORPS
Great... fear? Corps?
What the hell is this guy talking ab---
I don't even have time to think before the world starts turning colors on me. At first, I think it's a hallucination. Like the heat's getting to me, or something, and I'm having one of those prior-to-blackout moments that everyone who's experienced heat exhaustion has ever talked about. But the world starts to get a little brighter as the color engulfs my body entirely, and I suddenly feel like...
Well, like I'm floating on air.
Holy flipping mother of...!
WELCOME TO THE GREEN LANTERNS
Byrd Man El Hombre Pájaro
Member
Seen
11 days ago
coGM
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
16 hrs ago
The supporting character tab is subject to change per anyone's objections/any conflicts with established continuity/anyone's future plans that I don't wanna mess with. That said...C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A LT H E G R E E N L A N T E R NHAROLD 'HAL' JORDAN ♦ FIELD MECHANIC / SPACE COP ♦ COAST CITY, CALIFORNIA ♦ UNIVERSAL LANTERN CORPSC H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:"You can't forsee all the consequences of your actions - but that's no excuse to do nothing."
For as long as he can remember, Hal Jordan had one singular ambition: to be a fighter pilot, just like his dad. While his brothers Jim and Jack had never quite taken after their dad's predilection for daredevil antics and high-flying feats of aviation, Hal wanted to experience everything his father had told him about it. Late at night, the elder Jordan would sneak his boy out and take him on solo flights, allowing Hal to gaze up at the stars and dream. It was the greatest moment of his life, and the one that set his life's path forever. But all good things inevitably come to an end, and for Hal, that end came with the tragic death of his idol. After making a series of grave miscalculations during a routine flight for a local stunt show, Martin Jordan perished in the midst of an explosion that Hal was unfortunately present to witness. The memory would haunt him forever, as he clutched onto the bomber jacket that Martin had told him to keep safe until the fire department had to forcibly pry it away in order to take him to a hospital.
In a state of extreme grief, Hal's mother forbade him or his brothers from ever flying. They wouldn't even be allowed on commercial airliners until they were old enough to leave the house. But Hal rebelled, studying for his pilot's licence by the age of 16 and looking to enlist in the US Air Force when he turned 18. Though he was turned down for disobeying his instructing officer, Hal's determination never wavered, and he found himself applying for the position of test pilot for Ferris Airlines. After his mother died of complications due to ovarian cancer, Hal's older brother blamed him for killing her with his recklessness, creating a rift between them that would never truly mend. He took out his grief in a bar fight with a redheaded punk named Gardner that night, and ended up totaling his car on a drunken drive home. It landed him with a stint in jail five years probation.
To no surprise, then, did Hal's first test flight with Ferris the following week end in complete and utter disaster. After lying about his credentials and playing up his connection to the famous Martin Jordan, Hal was immediately proven to be nothing more than an amatuer when allowed into the cockpit on his own for the first time. He crashed a state-of-the-art jet that was going to secure Ferris' place in the next arm's race, likely securing a contract with Stark Industries. Both enraged over this incident and another involving his young daughter Carol the day before, Carl Ferris immediately sought to ground Jordan permanently - and did so by sending him to the worst dead-end assignment in all of Coast City, working the scrapyard for Ferris' decommissioned jets. Along with his friend Thomas Kalmaku, Hal would spend the rest of his days there fixing up planes, getting into fights with hotshot pilots who talked down to him, and getting drunk while his life spiraled out of control.
Eventually, he settled into his position, and had accepted his fate - until today, when fate would come calling his name.
Literally.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:
I'm not gonna mince words: this Hal Jordan is, by and large, a complete fuck-up. He's not a hotshot pilot with daring moves who's too good at his job for anyone to understand, and he's not a rebel without a cause that manages to scrape by because he's a reckless idiot. He's just a reckless idiot who managed to screw up what used to be his biggest opportunity in the world. This is the story of how a fuck-up can be granted a second chance at fucking up, probably be pretty bad at that too, but learning enough of a lesson that he doesn't die when all's said and done.
As for why I wanted to play this character, I've done my fair share of grim and gritty vigilante stuff for as long as I can remember. I was actually going to apply for two seperate archetypes of that same character before I settled on this when I realized that it wasn't what I really wanted. So doing an approximation of Star Wars: Superhero Edition sounded like a nice change of pace. And doing Hal Jordan from the ground up in a way that doesn't paint him as the end-all, be-all wielder of the ring is an idea that's appealed to me for awhile, and never really something I ever thought I'd try. But, well, here I am.
I've been a fan of Green Lantern since I was a kid, watching Superman: The Animated Series introduce Kyle Rayner in such a great and simple way that expanded the world of the Green Lantern Corps to me. So much so that when Geoff Johns took over the title and reimagined a large portion of the GL mythos, I was onboard. However, with hindsight, I see alot of flaws with Johns' portrayal of Hal and his shafting of the other Lanterns' legacies, so I want to do the character right and try and earn something of a level playing field for characters like Kyle Rayner, John Stewart, Guy Gardner, Jessica Cruz, and Simon Baz - who I'm hoping will be able to pop up in my story along the way, in some shape or form. Though I'm also perfectly willing to work with anyone who wants to play them, too.
And in a notable change, The Green Lanterns aren't the ruling color class pf the emotional spectrum that the Guardians Of The Universe yield exclusively. They enlist Blue Lanterns, Star Sapphires, The Indigo Tribe, The Honor Guard and the Alpha Lanterns to make up a more diverse Corps called the Universal Lantern Corps. Greens are simply the SWAT unit, essentially, of the Guardians' overall peacekeeping organization.C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Supporting Cast (Earth)
Carol Ferris
Thomas Kalmaku
Whitney Frost
Dr. Hector Hammond
William Hand
Carl 'Crusher' Creel
Arthur Parks
Alan Scott
Supporting Cast (Lantern Corps)*
Abin Sur - Soon To Be Deceased
The Guardians Of The Universe
Thaal Sinestro
Mantis (Barring acceptance from @HenryJonesJr)
Tomar-Re
Starfox/Eros Of Titan
Kilowag
Phyla-Vell
C'hp
*Future Lanterns such as Kyle, Jessica, Simon, John, and Guy may appear in cameo roles, unless an extended period of time with no applications allows for them to be expanded upon.
Supporting Cast (Villains)
Krona
Legion
Terrax
The Manhunters
Atrocitus
Larfleeze
AnnihilusS A M P L E P O S T:
Coast City, California
Ferris Airlines Tarmac
1:53 PM
You ever have one of those 'floating' dreams?
Y'know the one. You're soaring high above the clouds, looking down at the miniscule little specs of structures that would normally tower above you. The wind in your hair, the breeze on your face, the little voice in your head telling you that it's not real - only for you to say 'to hell with it' and ignore any sense of logic or reason, because goddammit, you're flying and nobody can take it away from you. Nobody and nothing. Except reality, when you finally wake up and realize that you were never up there at all. See, that's the moment that kills you the most. The dread of a so-called normal existence, where you're not rising above your challenges, but facing them head-on. Losing, most of the time, against the elements stacked in your way. But you still cling to that moment. The idea that whenever you're done, you have another chance to soar. Another chance to make your problems go away, forever.
I've been chasing that dream since I was too young to remember. My brother used to tell me it was just because I was a stupid pilot's son and that's all I could ever hope to amount to be. But my brother was a prick like that. Always trying to tether me to the ground, when I belonged up there. Among the clouds, looking down on the world that'd make me want to wish I'd never dare dream to be alive. Well, I decided to do something about it. Worked my tail off until I couldn't stand it, then pushed myself further. Got my pilot's liscence the day I turned 20. And then, whenever I got an actual shot at taking to the skies without an instructor looking over my shoulder, I sure showed them all.
I showed them that they were right.
I had no business being up there.
Crashed and burned the first flight I ever manned solo. Funny how life works like that. I got an instant demotion from test pilot for Ferris Airlines to field mechanic for Ferris Airlines' scrapheap of the dead, trying to restore old fighter jets that'll get decommissioned and paraded around at museums. The place you get sent whenever you've screwed up so royally that nobody wants to hear your all-bark, no-bite schtick anymore. When you've proven to the world that you are a complete and utter loser who dared to dream big and landed flat on his face.
"Hal? Hey, Highball! You care to join us back on Earth, or did you want to daydream the entire shift away?"
I look away from the airfield just a mile off from our workstation as my buddy, Tom, hands me a socket wrench as he wipes fresh oil from his forehead. He and I have been working our asses off in 98 degree weather trying to make this old, rusted Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor look like it didn't take a nosedive into the Pacific for the last few months. So far, we've only managed to strip it for parts and complete a partial restoration on the left wing. Still alot of months to go, and for pay that barely makes the rent, let alone any affordable conditions. Me, I never minded sleeping a couple of nights in the truck. Tom, on the other hand...
"What, afraid you'd have to do the heavy lifting for a change?"
Tom sneers as I grin back, zipping up the front of my coveralls. The walking oven, as we've taken to calling it. Wiping the bead of sweat from my brow, I duck under the wing and make way for the jet engine that my esteemed colleague was so delicately trying to pry from it's titanium casket.
"Hell no. If I'm lucky, I get that thing loosened enough that it falls and breaks every bone in my body. Then I can sue for worker's comp, move to Florida and live the rest of my days far away from this place."
I laugh to myself.
"Roger that. Come on, let ole' Junkyard Jordan assess the damage..."
After gulping down a heavy swig of water, Tom walks over and leans above the engine's hull, just where I've slid myself under to finish where he started.
"Man, I'm starting to think that's a serious ambition. You know what I mean? This place is sinking faster than the damn Titanic, and I seriously doubt a couple of grease monkeys like us have much in the way of job security."
I grimace as the humidity jumps to what feels like another thousand degrees.
"You stripped the bolt. Think you can interrupt your death wish long enough to hand me the drill?"
He slaps the side of the engine just to mess with me, but obliges. I pull on my gloves and strap a welding mask on. Gonna see some sparks fly before this thing so much as budges.
"I think you're overreacting, pal. Ferris hasn't been in business since '59 just to tank over a couple of lousy performance reviews. They've seen their share of bad publicity in the past, but hey, that's the business. Tell me that Virgin or Southwest hasn't looked worse in the last month compared to us."
"You sound like you're paraphrasing the brochure, Hal."
"Well, maybe a little."
Tom shakes his head and heads off to his break as I begin to drill into the rusted shaft holding this stubborn bolt. Sure, I mostly said all that to assure him that things weren't going to hell, but I honestly don't know if I'd be all that broken up to see an early foreclosure. I mean yeah, these guys were the first to give me my shot at the big time - or at least, what I thought was the big time five years ago - but they put me out to pasture within the same month I signed on. I've been laboring away at this dump ever since, and the only way I think I'll grow a pair and leave is if they fire me or shut it down.
Especially after the boss caught me and his daughter doing the, uh...
Well, the thing all boys and girls like to do when they're old enough.
Hell, even that's putting it generously. We were making out in a broom closet, for Christ's sake. And after that, did I get so much as a phone number from Ms. Holier-Than-Thou herself, Carol Ferris? Nope. Nada. Hear she's seeing some physicist, these days. I pity the guy. All those degrees, and he falls head over heels for the single most stuck-up b...HAL JORDAN
I shoot straight up so fast that I forget where I am for the moment, instantly hitting my head on a solid slab of titanium. Removing the now freshly cracked welding mask - nice one, Jordan, they're surely not about to dock any of your pay for that - I roll out from underneath the turbine and look around, partially startled. Whoever was calling out to me said my name in the loudest tone I've ever heard in my life. And yet, looking around... I don't see a damned thing.
"Uh... present?"YOU POSSESS THE ABILITY TO OVERCOME GREAT FEAR
YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED FOR THE CORPS
Great... fear? Corps?
What the hell is this guy talking ab---
I don't even have time to think before the world starts turning colors on me. At first, I think it's a hallucination. Like the heat's getting to me, or something, and I'm having one of those prior-to-blackout moments that everyone who's experienced heat exhaustion has ever talked about. But the world starts to get a little brighter as the color engulfs my body entirely, and I suddenly feel like...
Well, like I'm floating on air.
Holy flipping mother of...!WELCOME TO THE GREEN LANTERNS
GM
Lord Wraith Actually Three Otters in a Trenchcoat
Member
Seen
3 hrs ago
The supporting character tab is subject to change per anyone's objections/any conflicts with established continuity/anyone's future plans that I don't wanna mess with. That said...C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A LT H E G R E E N L A N T E R NHAROLD 'HAL' JORDAN ♦ FIELD MECHANIC / SPACE COP ♦ COAST CITY, CALIFORNIA ♦ UNIVERSAL LANTERN CORPSC H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:"You can't forsee all the consequences of your actions - but that's no excuse to do nothing."
For as long as he can remember, Hal Jordan had one singular ambition: to be a fighter pilot, just like his dad. While his brothers Jim and Jack had never quite taken after their dad's predilection for daredevil antics and high-flying feats of aviation, Hal wanted to experience everything his father had told him about it. Late at night, the elder Jordan would sneak his boy out and take him on solo flights, allowing Hal to gaze up at the stars and dream. It was the greatest moment of his life, and the one that set his life's path forever. But all good things inevitably come to an end, and for Hal, that end came with the tragic death of his idol. After making a series of grave miscalculations during a routine flight for a local stunt show, Martin Jordan perished in the midst of an explosion that Hal was unfortunately present to witness. The memory would haunt him forever, as he clutched onto the bomber jacket that Martin had told him to keep safe until the fire department had to forcibly pry it away in order to take him to a hospital.
In a state of extreme grief, Hal's mother forbade him or his brothers from ever flying. They wouldn't even be allowed on commercial airliners until they were old enough to leave the house. But Hal rebelled, studying for his pilot's licence by the age of 16 and looking to enlist in the US Air Force when he turned 18. Though he was turned down for disobeying his instructing officer, Hal's determination never wavered, and he found himself applying for the position of test pilot for Ferris Airlines. After his mother died of complications due to ovarian cancer, Hal's older brother blamed him for killing her with his recklessness, creating a rift between them that would never truly mend. He took out his grief in a bar fight with a redheaded punk named Gardner that night, and ended up totaling his car on a drunken drive home. It landed him with a stint in jail five years probation.
To no surprise, then, did Hal's first test flight with Ferris the following week end in complete and utter disaster. After lying about his credentials and playing up his connection to the famous Martin Jordan, Hal was immediately proven to be nothing more than an amatuer when allowed into the cockpit on his own for the first time. He crashed a state-of-the-art jet that was going to secure Ferris' place in the next arm's race, likely securing a contract with Stark Industries. Both enraged over this incident and another involving his young daughter Carol the day before, Carl Ferris immediately sought to ground Jordan permanently - and did so by sending him to the worst dead-end assignment in all of Coast City, working the scrapyard for Ferris' decommissioned jets. Along with his friend Thomas Kalmaku, Hal would spend the rest of his days there fixing up planes, getting into fights with hotshot pilots who talked down to him, and getting drunk while his life spiraled out of control.
Eventually, he settled into his position, and had accepted his fate - until today, when fate would come calling his name.
Literally.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:
I'm not gonna mince words: this Hal Jordan is, by and large, a complete fuck-up. He's not a hotshot pilot with daring moves who's too good at his job for anyone to understand, and he's not a rebel without a cause that manages to scrape by because he's a reckless idiot. He's just a reckless idiot who managed to screw up what used to be his biggest opportunity in the world. This is the story of how a fuck-up can be granted a second chance at fucking up, probably be pretty bad at that too, but learning enough of a lesson that he doesn't die when all's said and done.
As for why I wanted to play this character, I've done my fair share of grim and gritty vigilante stuff for as long as I can remember. I was actually going to apply for two seperate archetypes of that same character before I settled on this when I realized that it wasn't what I really wanted. So doing an approximation of Star Wars: Superhero Edition sounded like a nice change of pace. And doing Hal Jordan from the ground up in a way that doesn't paint him as the end-all, be-all wielder of the ring is an idea that's appealed to me for awhile, and never really something I ever thought I'd try. But, well, here I am.
I've been a fan of Green Lantern since I was a kid, watching Superman: The Animated Series introduce Kyle Rayner in such a great and simple way that expanded the world of the Green Lantern Corps to me. So much so that when Geoff Johns took over the title and reimagined a large portion of the GL mythos, I was onboard. However, with hindsight, I see alot of flaws with Johns' portrayal of Hal and his shafting of the other Lanterns' legacies, so I want to do the character right and try and earn something of a level playing field for characters like Kyle Rayner, John Stewart, Guy Gardner, Jessica Cruz, and Simon Baz - who I'm hoping will be able to pop up in my story along the way, in some shape or form. Though I'm also perfectly willing to work with anyone who wants to play them, too.
And in a notable change, The Green Lanterns aren't the ruling color class pf the emotional spectrum that the Guardians Of The Universe yield exclusively. They enlist Blue Lanterns, Star Sapphires, The Indigo Tribe, The Honor Guard and the Alpha Lanterns to make up a more diverse Corps called the Universal Lantern Corps. Greens are simply the SWAT unit, essentially, of the Guardians' overall peacekeeping organization.C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Supporting Cast (Earth)
Carol Ferris
Thomas Kalmaku
Whitney Frost
Dr. Hector Hammond
William Hand
Carl 'Crusher' Creel
Arthur Parks
Alan Scott
Supporting Cast (Lantern Corps)*
Abin Sur - Soon To Be Deceased
The Guardians Of The Universe
Thaal Sinestro
Mantis (Barring acceptance from @HenryJonesJr)
Tomar-Re
Starfox/Eros Of Titan
Kilowag
Phyla-Vell
C'hp
*Future Lanterns such as Kyle, Jessica, Simon, John, and Guy may appear in cameo roles, unless an extended period of time with no applications allows for them to be expanded upon.
Supporting Cast (Villains)
Krona
Legion
Terrax
The Manhunters
Atrocitus
Larfleeze
AnnihilusS A M P L E P O S T:
Coast City, California
Ferris Airlines Tarmac
1:53 PM
You ever have one of those 'floating' dreams?
Y'know the one. You're soaring high above the clouds, looking down at the miniscule little specs of structures that would normally tower above you. The wind in your hair, the breeze on your face, the little voice in your head telling you that it's not real - only for you to say 'to hell with it' and ignore any sense of logic or reason, because goddammit, you're flying and nobody can take it away from you. Nobody and nothing. Except reality, when you finally wake up and realize that you were never up there at all. See, that's the moment that kills you the most. The dread of a so-called normal existence, where you're not rising above your challenges, but facing them head-on. Losing, most of the time, against the elements stacked in your way. But you still cling to that moment. The idea that whenever you're done, you have another chance to soar. Another chance to make your problems go away, forever.
I've been chasing that dream since I was too young to remember. My brother used to tell me it was just because I was a stupid pilot's son and that's all I could ever hope to amount to be. But my brother was a prick like that. Always trying to tether me to the ground, when I belonged up there. Among the clouds, looking down on the world that'd make me want to wish I'd never dare dream to be alive. Well, I decided to do something about it. Worked my tail off until I couldn't stand it, then pushed myself further. Got my pilot's liscence the day I turned 20. And then, whenever I got an actual shot at taking to the skies without an instructor looking over my shoulder, I sure showed them all.
I showed them that they were right.
I had no business being up there.
Crashed and burned the first flight I ever manned solo. Funny how life works like that. I got an instant demotion from test pilot for Ferris Airlines to field mechanic for Ferris Airlines' scrapheap of the dead, trying to restore old fighter jets that'll get decommissioned and paraded around at museums. The place you get sent whenever you've screwed up so royally that nobody wants to hear your all-bark, no-bite schtick anymore. When you've proven to the world that you are a complete and utter loser who dared to dream big and landed flat on his face.
"Hal? Hey, Highball! You care to join us back on Earth, or did you want to daydream the entire shift away?"
I look away from the airfield just a mile off from our workstation as my buddy, Tom, hands me a socket wrench as he wipes fresh oil from his forehead. He and I have been working our asses off in 98 degree weather trying to make this old, rusted Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor look like it didn't take a nosedive into the Pacific for the last few months. So far, we've only managed to strip it for parts and complete a partial restoration on the left wing. Still alot of months to go, and for pay that barely makes the rent, let alone any affordable conditions. Me, I never minded sleeping a couple of nights in the truck. Tom, on the other hand...
"What, afraid you'd have to do the heavy lifting for a change?"
Tom sneers as I grin back, zipping up the front of my coveralls. The walking oven, as we've taken to calling it. Wiping the bead of sweat from my brow, I duck under the wing and make way for the jet engine that my esteemed colleague was so delicately trying to pry from it's titanium casket.
"Hell no. If I'm lucky, I get that thing loosened enough that it falls and breaks every bone in my body. Then I can sue for worker's comp, move to Florida and live the rest of my days far away from this place."
I laugh to myself.
"Roger that. Come on, let ole' Junkyard Jordan assess the damage..."
After gulping down a heavy swig of water, Tom walks over and leans above the engine's hull, just where I've slid myself under to finish where he started.
"Man, I'm starting to think that's a serious ambition. You know what I mean? This place is sinking faster than the damn Titanic, and I seriously doubt a couple of grease monkeys like us have much in the way of job security."
I grimace as the humidity jumps to what feels like another thousand degrees.
"You stripped the bolt. Think you can interrupt your death wish long enough to hand me the drill?"
He slaps the side of the engine just to mess with me, but obliges. I pull on my gloves and strap a welding mask on. Gonna see some sparks fly before this thing so much as budges.
"I think you're overreacting, pal. Ferris hasn't been in business since '59 just to tank over a couple of lousy performance reviews. They've seen their share of bad publicity in the past, but hey, that's the business. Tell me that Virgin or Southwest hasn't looked worse in the last month compared to us."
"You sound like you're paraphrasing the brochure, Hal."
"Well, maybe a little."
Tom shakes his head and heads off to his break as I begin to drill into the rusted shaft holding this stubborn bolt. Sure, I mostly said all that to assure him that things weren't going to hell, but I honestly don't know if I'd be all that broken up to see an early foreclosure. I mean yeah, these guys were the first to give me my shot at the big time - or at least, what I thought was the big time five years ago - but they put me out to pasture within the same month I signed on. I've been laboring away at this dump ever since, and the only way I think I'll grow a pair and leave is if they fire me or shut it down.
Especially after the boss caught me and his daughter doing the, uh...
Well, the thing all boys and girls like to do when they're old enough.
Hell, even that's putting it generously. We were making out in a broom closet, for Christ's sake. And after that, did I get so much as a phone number from Ms. Holier-Than-Thou herself, Carol Ferris? Nope. Nada. Hear she's seeing some physicist, these days. I pity the guy. All those degrees, and he falls head over heels for the single most stuck-up b...HAL JORDAN
I shoot straight up so fast that I forget where I am for the moment, instantly hitting my head on a solid slab of titanium. Removing the now freshly cracked welding mask - nice one, Jordan, they're surely not about to dock any of your pay for that - I roll out from underneath the turbine and look around, partially startled. Whoever was calling out to me said my name in the loudest tone I've ever heard in my life. And yet, looking around... I don't see a damned thing.
"Uh... present?"YOU POSSESS THE ABILITY TO OVERCOME GREAT FEAR
YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED FOR THE CORPS
Great... fear? Corps?
What the hell is this guy talking ab---
I don't even have time to think before the world starts turning colors on me. At first, I think it's a hallucination. Like the heat's getting to me, or something, and I'm having one of those prior-to-blackout moments that everyone who's experienced heat exhaustion has ever talked about. But the world starts to get a little brighter as the color engulfs my body entirely, and I suddenly feel like...
Well, like I'm floating on air.
Holy flipping mother of...!WELCOME TO THE GREEN LANTERNS
After checking for a sample this time Green Lantern is approved. I feel that by focussing in on a single Lantern this makes the app stronger.
@Nightrunner if you still wish to pursue your current concept, I would suggest talking to @Master Bruce and maybe narrowing the focus of your application to one Lantern instead of four of them.
1x Thank
@Lord Wraith Besides, whatever he writes, it's gonna be great.
1x Thank
With this post done, I'll be spending this next week getting my assignment done. Hopefully, I can finish it by Friday so I'll have next weekend to continue on here. Magik is about to make the MLF her bitch.
2x Like
Looking back at Batgirl, after some time, I realize that I didn't really have any arcs I wanted to explore. I had half-baked ideas but I didn't have anything really interesting to add to Barbara. Back in my previous Carol Danvers role I did have a story, characters and arcs I wanted to explore so that was a much more successful run.
Anyway, just looking back in to see if there is a character or idea I actually want to explore in Season 2. Too late to think about it any more but I'll be cracking a few eggs and see if I can make a cake with em.
Anyway, just looking back in to see if there is a character or idea I actually want to explore in Season 2. Too late to think about it any more but I'll be cracking a few eggs and see if I can make a cake with em.
2x Like
GM
Lord Wraith Actually Three Otters in a Trenchcoat
Member
Seen
3 hrs ago
Looking back at Batgirl, after some time, I realize that I didn't really have any arcs I wanted to explore. I had half-baked ideas but I didn't have anything really interesting to add to Barbara. Back in my previous Carol Danvers role I did have a story, characters and arcs I wanted to explore so that was a much more successful run.
Anyway, just looking back in to see if there is a character or idea I actually want to explore in Season 2. Too late to think about it any more but I'll be cracking a few eggs and see if I can make a cake with em.
I am a big fan of cake.
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Thinking back before I picked up Batgirl, I had two other character ideas that caught my fancy. One of them was Supergirl and the other was She-Hulk.
I didn't waste too much time on the Supergirl idea since a really good character concept for her was quickly created but I remember I was split on the time between a Supergirl concept and a Power Girl concept. In either case I would try to make the concept different enough from my fond memories so I don't feel too tied down by the character like Batgirl kind of did with me.
As for She-Hulk, at the time I was thinking just a version of the original but after thinking about it I just don't know enough about she-hulk to make a good one, but I know a good deal about Hulk. So in a She-Hulk case I was thinking maybe twisting around the original Hulk story so that it is Betty Ross who gets transformed into the first Hulk rather than Bruce Banner. Just thinking about the complications such a change would have on the entire story would make for a unique experience, especially with how Thunderbolt Ross would react to such a situation, having his own daughter transformed rather than some nasty scientist man who likes his daughter.
I didn't waste too much time on the Supergirl idea since a really good character concept for her was quickly created but I remember I was split on the time between a Supergirl concept and a Power Girl concept. In either case I would try to make the concept different enough from my fond memories so I don't feel too tied down by the character like Batgirl kind of did with me.
As for She-Hulk, at the time I was thinking just a version of the original but after thinking about it I just don't know enough about she-hulk to make a good one, but I know a good deal about Hulk. So in a She-Hulk case I was thinking maybe twisting around the original Hulk story so that it is Betty Ross who gets transformed into the first Hulk rather than Bruce Banner. Just thinking about the complications such a change would have on the entire story would make for a unique experience, especially with how Thunderbolt Ross would react to such a situation, having his own daughter transformed rather than some nasty scientist man who likes his daughter.
GM
Lord Wraith Actually Three Otters in a Trenchcoat
Member
Seen
3 hrs ago
I didn't waste too much time on the Supergirl idea since a really good character concept for her was quickly created but I remember I was split on the time between a Supergirl concept and a Power Girl concept. In either case I would try to make the concept different enough from my fond memories so I don't feel too tied down by the character like Batgirl kind of did with me.
What are your ideas for Supergirl and would they be able to work with the existing history of the character in the IC? Ideally, for Supergirl, I'd like someone to step in and resume the character where Inkarnate had left her, I'd be open to allowing the new player to make changes but preferably nothing that would contradict what's in the IC already.
As for She-Hulk, at the time I was thinking just a version of the original but after thinking about it I just don't know enough about she-hulk to make a good one, but I know a good deal about Hulk. So in a She-Hulk case I was thinking maybe twisting around the original Hulk story so that it is Betty Ross who gets transformed into the first Hulk rather than Bruce Banner. Just thinking about the complications such a change would have on the entire story would make for a unique experience, especially with how Thunderbolt Ross would react to such a situation, having his own daughter transformed rather than some nasty scientist man who likes his daughter.
That could be fun. I do know of one other person who has expressed interest in Hulk but please don't let that dissuade you if you're invested in this concept. Seeing Betty be the monster first while Bruce tries to 'fix' her has a lot of storytelling potential before even considering the dynamic with her father.
@Lord Wraith
Hello! I'm tentatively interested depending on if I can flesh out this concept I have in my head any further.
But before I do that, I was wondering what is the current state of mutants in the RP? The reason I ask is because the character I have in mind is X-23. Inspired by Runaways (the comic, I haven't seen the TV show yet) and Logan. Kinda a mixture of a modern western and a Bildungsroman I guess? But before I work on the idea any further, I don't want to step on the toes of any Wolverine or X-Men players that may potentially have any ideas for Laura.
But before I do that, I was wondering what is the current state of mutants in the RP? The reason I ask is because the character I have in mind is X-23. Inspired by Runaways (the comic, I haven't seen the TV show yet) and Logan. Kinda a mixture of a modern western and a Bildungsroman I guess? But before I work on the idea any further, I don't want to step on the toes of any Wolverine or X-Men players that may potentially have any ideas for Laura.
GM
Lord Wraith Actually Three Otters in a Trenchcoat
Member
Seen
3 hrs ago
Hello! I'm tentatively interested depending on if I can flesh out this concept I have in my head any further.
But before I do that, I was wondering what is the current state of mutants in the RP? The reason I ask is because the character I have in mind is X-23. Inspired by Runaways (the comic, I haven't seen the TV show yet) and Logan. Kinda a mixture of a modern western and a Bildungsroman I guess? But before I work on the idea any further, I don't want to step on the toes of any Wolverine or X-Men players that may potentially have any ideas for Laura.
Our Wolverine and X-Men players have left the RP for the foreseeable future, so the floor is yours. The X-Men were defined as being fairly new, the team that is in the IC was the first iteration of them, and they had only been around for a little over a year. That said, I'm not saying no to X-23. Project X isn't tied to the X-Men's timeline by any means, so if you want to go ahead with creating Laura, I think you can do that.
In Absolute, we've combined mutants and metahumans to streamline the game with 'metahuman' being a scientific name while 'mutant' is a slur. Attitudes towards them vary from person to person, so while heroes such as Supergirl and Wonder Woman were generally embraced, the average metahuman with powers was still mostly feared in some communities. The Season End Crisis is being perpetrated by a group who is intending to frame 'mutants' for their crimes, so if you're wanting to deal with discrimination and the usual X-Men themes, you'll still be able to do that moving forward.
1x Thank
@Lord Wraith
Thank you for the quick response!
The current state of things seems to work with my current plans. In regards to the wider world of X-Men, I was planning on keeping my pool of potential supporting characters small in scope anyway because I feel sticking my hands in too many pots wouldn't end well. (For reference I'm currently only considering really: Gambit, Jubilee, Caliban and maybe Honeybadger in the future. Beyond that maybe some potential X-Villains that might reasonably work with the Facility.) And the idea for the wider world would result more in offhand references to the X-Men or the original "Weapon X", but nothing too concrete to lock any potential player out of them. This is potentially my first kind of game like this after all, so I figured my best avenue for success would be a small and focused approach instead of trying to do something big and important like the X-Men or Batman or something.
Thank you for the quick response!
The current state of things seems to work with my current plans. In regards to the wider world of X-Men, I was planning on keeping my pool of potential supporting characters small in scope anyway because I feel sticking my hands in too many pots wouldn't end well. (For reference I'm currently only considering really: Gambit, Jubilee, Caliban and maybe Honeybadger in the future. Beyond that maybe some potential X-Villains that might reasonably work with the Facility.) And the idea for the wider world would result more in offhand references to the X-Men or the original "Weapon X", but nothing too concrete to lock any potential player out of them. This is potentially my first kind of game like this after all, so I figured my best avenue for success would be a small and focused approach instead of trying to do something big and important like the X-Men or Batman or something.
Retired "Hayao Miyazaki"
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I wonder if I'm technically the defacto mutant expert now that Maxx is gone and I'm running Kitty, with her story being relatively connected to mutant history and current affairs. Hm.
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Lord Wraith Actually Three Otters in a Trenchcoat
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3 hrs ago
@Lord Wraith
Thank you for the quick response!
The current state of things seems to work with my current plans. In regards to the wider world of X-Men, I was planning on keeping my pool of potential supporting characters small in scope anyway because I feel sticking my hands in too many pots wouldn't end well. (For reference I'm currently only considering really: Gambit, Jubilee, Caliban and maybe Honeybadger in the future. Beyond that maybe some potential X-Villains that might reasonably work with the Facility.) And the idea for the wider world would result more in offhand references to the X-Men or the original "Weapon X", but nothing too concrete to lock any potential player out of them. This is potentially my first kind of game like this after all, so I figured my best avenue for success would be a small and focused approach instead of trying to do something big and important like the X-Men or Batman or something.
That all sounds good to me, if you have any questions at all whether about the game or specific characters/stories, feel free to ask them here. Even if I'm not online, this group is pretty good and most of them will be able to help you.
I wonder if I'm technically the defacto mutant expert now that Maxx is gone and I'm running Kitty, with her story being relatively connected to mutant history and current affairs. Hm.
I guess technically it would make you that. Something, something, blurred lines.
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Retired "Hayao Miyazaki"
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0-24 hrs ago
I also realize that with Maxx gone I will either need to utilize his X-Men team as NPCs or skip over part of my plans for next season. I did not consider this until now.
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Lord Wraith Actually Three Otters in a Trenchcoat
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3 hrs ago
I also realize that with Maxx gone I will either need to utilize his X-Men team as NPCs or skip over part of my plans for next season. I did not consider this until now.
If no one else picks up the team, I don't see any reason why they can't be NPC'd considering they're already established in the IC.
Pacifista Ponk-ifista
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29 min 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
T H E H U L K
B R U C E B A N N E R ♦ N U C L E A R P H Y S I C I S T ♦ N A V A P O ♦ I N D E P E N D E N T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"No one likes me when I’m angry, not even me."
Generally speaking, Bruce Banner will simply be my take on the familiar character, with some changes to enable more potential of being someone heroic. But the Hulk actually becoming a hero won’t be an easy journey. At the start, Bruce has yet to even truly realize the fallout of the experiment that has irreparably changed him. He’s still living comfortably with his college job, a girlfriend, and her dad who hates him, but as his anger comes to bubble at the surface, it’s only a matter of time before everything crumbles around him. And it will, beginning a life of being on the run for a man who just wants to be better.
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:
It’s easy to see the appeal in wanting to explore anger, such a core human emotion. Through Bruce I intend to play a character who’s burning want to act had been held back by his own insecurities and fears, but now has an outlet for his repression, one that will come at a great cost until the day finally comes where he can control himself. I plan to write him as an empathetic person, tending to put himself in the shoes of literally anyone else, and in turn connecting to them, extreme cases forcing him to embrace his desires and turn into a guardian demon, blowing up out of uncontrollable emotions for the sake of another. He won’t be doing wholly good until he manages to control himself, but his actions may not be wholly bad either. Through that righteous rage he may one day be a hero, but good intent doesn’t necessarily lead to good results. Even if his journey to being a force of good turns out to be shorter than I might expect at present, he’ll still be a character who can all too easily hurt that which he doesn’t want to hurt, and demons from his past (his father in particular) will always be there.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Notable Characters in Bruce’s Story:
Betty Ross – Childhood friend and current girlfriend of Bruce.
General Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross (to possibly become The Red Hulk) – Protective father of Betty and member of the US Air Force.
Brian Banner (to become The Purple Man) – Bruce’s estranged father, not set to reenter his life until the world knows of his identity as The Hulk.
Rick Jones – Lab partner and work friend of Bruce’s.
Major Glenn Talbot – Air force member and acquaintance of Bruce’s.
Other Potential Rogues:
The Abomination (Emil Blonsky)
Flux (Benjamin Tibbets)
Leader (Samuel Sterns)
Betty Ross – Childhood friend and current girlfriend of Bruce.
General Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross (to possibly become The Red Hulk) – Protective father of Betty and member of the US Air Force.
Brian Banner (to become The Purple Man) – Bruce’s estranged father, not set to reenter his life until the world knows of his identity as The Hulk.
Rick Jones – Lab partner and work friend of Bruce’s.
Major Glenn Talbot – Air force member and acquaintance of Bruce’s.
Other Potential Rogues:
The Abomination (Emil Blonsky)
Flux (Benjamin Tibbets)
Leader (Samuel Sterns)
S A M P L E P O S T:
Pen bouncing against his forehead, Bruce’s hazel eyes snapped open, body jerking in his seat as he looked for the source of the offending projectile, mind on alert. Rick chortled, “I’d wonder if the accident just made you sleepier, but then I remembered you’ve always been like that.”
“Hrmn,” Bruce grunted, hand scratching at his brown stubble and adjusting his his askew glasses. Turning his chair back to the computer screen, half finished data entry still glowing at him, Bruce withdrew into his seat, head lolling over the back of his chair, the man groaning, “If this town didn’t have so many dogs barking at all hours...”
The edge of Rick’s lip twitched, “It’s not Betty keeping you up? Or, I guess it’d be mutual.”
Hunching back over his keyboard, hands going to work, Bruce admitted, “We might as well sleep in different beds. I get home late and she gets up early.”
“I was talking abou-”
“I know. Exactly what you are talking about.” Rick gave a knowing chortle as he turned back to his business. Bruce looked at the clock to see he was still stuck for a few more hours, but Rick said, “You wanna leave early? I can finish up for you.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow, not knowing Rick to be so charitable with his free time. “Really?” Rick glanced around at the nearly empty computer lab at the base. “I don’t have much else to do. Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Heart soothed with eternal gratitude, Bruce logged himself off, gladly taking off into the evening air of Los Diablos Air Force Base. The setting sun started to bring in the chill of the desert night, but it wasn’t a long walk to the parking lots from the lab. Slipping into his dingy pickup, Bruce let out a sigh of relief. Head leaning back, he turned to see the lab again, one hand grasping at his chest, the spot where he was struck with the beam of radiation that should have killed him. It was his own fault, since he took no heed to the security policies he’d had to explain himself, but mostly he was glad that aside from the hospital bills and the worry, it really hadn’t caused much trouble.
The Navapo streetlights were dim and dirty as Bruce mumbled his way through the light drone of the town in twilight the windshield of his car was framed in dust, only the footprints of his windshield wipers having only just left space enough to see. Turning through a light, a sudden motion made him jump, slamming on the breaks. His pickup jerked to a stop, Bruce looking out his slightly open window to see a mangy mutt skirting off, clearly panicked. Yelping noises echoing in his brain, Bruce flinched, suddenly crushed with a wave of remembrance, the memories hardly nostalgic, going back to shortly before the accident. Cringing, the pace of his vehicle slowed, suddenly a bit less eager to get home, but a sluggish pace did not steer him away from his course, and he drove in his apartment complex no less guilty. Mind still racing, replaying dogged memories he couldn’t seem to shake the more he thought about them, he stumbled to his door wishing he could think of just about anything else. As quietly as he could, he unlocked the door and slipped in, not even turning on the light as he peeked in, spotting the light of the television blinking about the living area, a shape unmoving under a blanket on the couch. Door closing with but a faint hush, lock clicking closed, Bruce kept his step light as he moved in deeper.
“I’m not sleeping you know.”
“Oh jesus!” Bruce gasped out at the noise, hand jumping to clutch his chest, the man stepping back from shock. Catching a breath, he cracked a smile, as did Betty, his overreaction quickly becoming a source of amusement. Finding it in him to laugh at his foolishness, he joined Betty on the couch, taking a seat. “You’re home early.”
“Rick took over,” Bruce explained. Glancing at the TV, ads for some drug with about a million horrible possible side effects playing, Bruce’s mood shifted back to before the door opened, shoulders slumping. Betty took notice, shifting out of her light blanket a bit, mid length dark hair rolling back over the shoulder of her white t-shirt. Not even giving her the chance to inquire, Bruce admitted, “I almost hit a dog. On the way back.”
Slumping back, Betty groaned, “It’s Navapo, I’m surprised they aren’t barking up a storm right now.” With her leaving the subject on the ground, Bruce noticed he’d been fiddling with his fingers. So did Betty. “What?” The woman sat up, torso poking out of her blanket as she put the TV out of her sight. Bruce couldn’t help but swallow, heart starting to pick up pace even from just her appearance in the scattered TV light. “A little while ago, before the accident...with the dog...” Bruce murmured. Betty closed her eyes in understanding, moving to the remote and lowering the TV’s volume, quickly saying, “I’m sorry.”
Bruce stopped, blinking as he glanced at her out of the side of his eyes. Even in the low light he could see her slump. “I...you were trying to protect me.”
Bruce flinched, “But I didn’t...I don’t get angry like that. That’s not me.” Grasping and putting pressure on one finger, he heard that yelp of pain echo in his head again and cringed at himself. It hadn’t even been a particularly big dog that went for them, went for Betty, but Bruce put all his strength into that kick, and then had to watch in shame as it trudged away in pain. Betty admitted, “I got mad at you because I didn’t realize what had happened.”
Bruce sighed, “But I didn’t have to do it.” Betty watched him as he kept his head down, reasoning, “I could have just...yelled or something. Spooked it a little.” Betty was quiet, slowly reaching out a hand, resting it on his knee. Bruce felt his body tense, and his hands stopped fidgeting, but he did not push her away. He never would. Betty said, “Well, what happened, happened. Maybe if there’s a next time...”
Bruce winced. “I don’t want there to be a next time. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Betty gave him a look. “I’m tougher than that.” Bruce knew. Taking her hand off his knee, Betty kept quiet as Bruce let out a breath of relief. Separating his hands, he took a breath before making a request. “I’ll do what I can but...if you feel like something’s wrong, could you...”
“...try and stop me?”
Betty tilted her head, hair falling over her face as she smiled knowingly. Grateful for everything, knowing he didn’t deserve a thing, he couldn’t quite look at her, though a smile found its way to his face. Looking up to the TV screen, actors moving about in intense silence, it became blurred as Bruce choked back tears. Standing up, he swallowed, managing to say with just enough of a casual tone, “I’m getting a shower.”
“Please,” Betty remarked, taking up her relaxed spot on the couch again and reaching for the remote. Bruce felt the edges of his lips twitch as he moved out, amazed at her ability to flip between the sincere and the sarcastic. Amazed at her everything.
If anything happened to her, Bruce didn’t know what he would do.
“Hrmn,” Bruce grunted, hand scratching at his brown stubble and adjusting his his askew glasses. Turning his chair back to the computer screen, half finished data entry still glowing at him, Bruce withdrew into his seat, head lolling over the back of his chair, the man groaning, “If this town didn’t have so many dogs barking at all hours...”
The edge of Rick’s lip twitched, “It’s not Betty keeping you up? Or, I guess it’d be mutual.”
Hunching back over his keyboard, hands going to work, Bruce admitted, “We might as well sleep in different beds. I get home late and she gets up early.”
“I was talking abou-”
“I know. Exactly what you are talking about.” Rick gave a knowing chortle as he turned back to his business. Bruce looked at the clock to see he was still stuck for a few more hours, but Rick said, “You wanna leave early? I can finish up for you.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow, not knowing Rick to be so charitable with his free time. “Really?” Rick glanced around at the nearly empty computer lab at the base. “I don’t have much else to do. Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Heart soothed with eternal gratitude, Bruce logged himself off, gladly taking off into the evening air of Los Diablos Air Force Base. The setting sun started to bring in the chill of the desert night, but it wasn’t a long walk to the parking lots from the lab. Slipping into his dingy pickup, Bruce let out a sigh of relief. Head leaning back, he turned to see the lab again, one hand grasping at his chest, the spot where he was struck with the beam of radiation that should have killed him. It was his own fault, since he took no heed to the security policies he’d had to explain himself, but mostly he was glad that aside from the hospital bills and the worry, it really hadn’t caused much trouble.
The Navapo streetlights were dim and dirty as Bruce mumbled his way through the light drone of the town in twilight the windshield of his car was framed in dust, only the footprints of his windshield wipers having only just left space enough to see. Turning through a light, a sudden motion made him jump, slamming on the breaks. His pickup jerked to a stop, Bruce looking out his slightly open window to see a mangy mutt skirting off, clearly panicked. Yelping noises echoing in his brain, Bruce flinched, suddenly crushed with a wave of remembrance, the memories hardly nostalgic, going back to shortly before the accident. Cringing, the pace of his vehicle slowed, suddenly a bit less eager to get home, but a sluggish pace did not steer him away from his course, and he drove in his apartment complex no less guilty. Mind still racing, replaying dogged memories he couldn’t seem to shake the more he thought about them, he stumbled to his door wishing he could think of just about anything else. As quietly as he could, he unlocked the door and slipped in, not even turning on the light as he peeked in, spotting the light of the television blinking about the living area, a shape unmoving under a blanket on the couch. Door closing with but a faint hush, lock clicking closed, Bruce kept his step light as he moved in deeper.
“I’m not sleeping you know.”
“Oh jesus!” Bruce gasped out at the noise, hand jumping to clutch his chest, the man stepping back from shock. Catching a breath, he cracked a smile, as did Betty, his overreaction quickly becoming a source of amusement. Finding it in him to laugh at his foolishness, he joined Betty on the couch, taking a seat. “You’re home early.”
“Rick took over,” Bruce explained. Glancing at the TV, ads for some drug with about a million horrible possible side effects playing, Bruce’s mood shifted back to before the door opened, shoulders slumping. Betty took notice, shifting out of her light blanket a bit, mid length dark hair rolling back over the shoulder of her white t-shirt. Not even giving her the chance to inquire, Bruce admitted, “I almost hit a dog. On the way back.”
Slumping back, Betty groaned, “It’s Navapo, I’m surprised they aren’t barking up a storm right now.” With her leaving the subject on the ground, Bruce noticed he’d been fiddling with his fingers. So did Betty. “What?” The woman sat up, torso poking out of her blanket as she put the TV out of her sight. Bruce couldn’t help but swallow, heart starting to pick up pace even from just her appearance in the scattered TV light. “A little while ago, before the accident...with the dog...” Bruce murmured. Betty closed her eyes in understanding, moving to the remote and lowering the TV’s volume, quickly saying, “I’m sorry.”
Bruce stopped, blinking as he glanced at her out of the side of his eyes. Even in the low light he could see her slump. “I...you were trying to protect me.”
Bruce flinched, “But I didn’t...I don’t get angry like that. That’s not me.” Grasping and putting pressure on one finger, he heard that yelp of pain echo in his head again and cringed at himself. It hadn’t even been a particularly big dog that went for them, went for Betty, but Bruce put all his strength into that kick, and then had to watch in shame as it trudged away in pain. Betty admitted, “I got mad at you because I didn’t realize what had happened.”
Bruce sighed, “But I didn’t have to do it.” Betty watched him as he kept his head down, reasoning, “I could have just...yelled or something. Spooked it a little.” Betty was quiet, slowly reaching out a hand, resting it on his knee. Bruce felt his body tense, and his hands stopped fidgeting, but he did not push her away. He never would. Betty said, “Well, what happened, happened. Maybe if there’s a next time...”
Bruce winced. “I don’t want there to be a next time. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Betty gave him a look. “I’m tougher than that.” Bruce knew. Taking her hand off his knee, Betty kept quiet as Bruce let out a breath of relief. Separating his hands, he took a breath before making a request. “I’ll do what I can but...if you feel like something’s wrong, could you...”
“...try and stop me?”
Betty tilted her head, hair falling over her face as she smiled knowingly. Grateful for everything, knowing he didn’t deserve a thing, he couldn’t quite look at her, though a smile found its way to his face. Looking up to the TV screen, actors moving about in intense silence, it became blurred as Bruce choked back tears. Standing up, he swallowed, managing to say with just enough of a casual tone, “I’m getting a shower.”
“Please,” Betty remarked, taking up her relaxed spot on the couch again and reaching for the remote. Bruce felt the edges of his lips twitch as he moved out, amazed at her ability to flip between the sincere and the sarcastic. Amazed at her everything.
If anything happened to her, Bruce didn’t know what he would do.
P O S T C A T A L O G:
To come.
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