_{An excerpt from Static 1.4: Shocker}

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The single lamp in the room, responsible for providing the bulk of illumination, was snuffed out like a candle. The windows closed shut. The curtains billowed inwards as the shadows began darkening into a black fog that was swallowing whatever it touched.

“ Having a bad day, Shocker?”

Black rivers began pouring out of the shadows, forming a puddle in the middle of his floor. A featureless hand gushed out of the puddle, grabbing onto the edges between shadow and wood as something or someone hoisted themselves out. The black penumbra of darkness shifted and hardened into a form of a man with indistinguishable features, aside from a matching set of leather pants and vest. A pair of milky white pupiless eyes glared at him from the darkness that seem to choke the light out of his apartment room. Inwardly, it thought it was an overly dramatic entrance but he wouldn’t dare say that out loud to the Master of Shadows, Ebon.

“ I thought you said you’d handle it. Static. Dead. Nothing for me to worry about. ”

“ It’s a process, Ebon,” He picked up his welding mask off the floor. “ Breaking his arm was the first step. Next time, we meet. It’ll be our last.”

“ Well, Lightning Junior managed to molotov you even when you had him on the ropes.”

He turned around trembling, angrily staring at Ebon’s cold stare. The damned bastard was currently leaning back on his own couch, relaxing in his room like he’d owned every place he ever walked in.

“ Why don’t you do it yourself, then?”

Surprisingly, Ebon didn’t look like he took any offense to the question. The shadow meta merely tilted his head mockingly, looking at him like he was a child. He stood up and began to pace around the room, hands behind his back as he began recite a rehearsed speech.

“ I could, but ensuring the safety of our turf is the number one priority of my gang. I’ve learned from the gangs of the past that you don’t off someone with no planning. This requires grace. Precision. The will to see something through.” Ebon stared at him pointedly. “ There’s also the fact that killing a fellow Bang Baby would only make people question my position as leader. The Meta-Breed doesn’t kill fellow metahumans after all. We seek to promote the rights of metahumans within this city. As soon as that betrayer, Static, is out of the picture.”

He snorted. “ So, you’re making me take the fall? I thought we were partners.”

Suddenly, the shadows rushed out towards him, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him up in the air. “ We’re not partners. You can’t be part of the Meta-Breed if you’re not a metahuman.”

Shadowy shackles gripped around his arms and legs as he was forced head-first into whatever dimension Ebon inhabited. It was a whirling dense penumbra that swallowed all white and so black that it could set shadows on shadows itself.All sensation was driven from his body as he rode through nothingness for a while, screams pouring out from his mouth but no sound to make of it. Eventually, he exited the dimension. A sign of relief escaped his lips, only to notice the faint whistling of wind in his ear.

He was falling.

“ HOLY SHHIIIIIIITTTTT -”

His legs and arms were flapping uselessly in the wind. He could hear his heart thumping, his brain calculating the time it would take for him to crash to the -

A portal formed in the midst of his free-fall, sending him crashing back into the sofa of his apartment. He groaned as Ebon stood over him, arms crossed.

“ See the difference? You’re missing the meta part, Buchinsky. Without your fancy tech, you’re nothing. Remember your place and do your job. You’ll get your pay fair and square at the end. If I don’t see the Kilowatt Kid’s head on a platter in the next two days,.....”

Ebon forced Larry Buchinsky’s head to look into his emotionless gaze

”..... you better start watching your shadows closely.”

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_{An excerpt from Old Man Grayson and Robin the ToyBoy Wonder: Issue #1.05 Smells like Toy Spirit}

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“That’s not the suit that I asked you to alter.”

The air rushed by. The reverberation of the motorcycle radiated through the doll’s body, filling the night with a dull roar. The bike was a modified 1971 Triumph Daytona that had originally been used by Bruce Wayne as part of a publicity stunt, before it had been passed to Dick for use when he’d become a teen. The blue paint was factory, with the only emblematic addition being a muted Robin ‘R’ symbol.

The so-called Robin Cycle had been sitting inside one of the safehouses that had functioned as one of the many fallbacks to the Bat-Cave that were strategically placed in the event that Bruce had to shift operations. Converted from an old warehouse, it was owned by a dummy company that was tangentially connected to one of the Wayne Group businesses. Dick had used it as his headquarters when he’d first arrived in Bludhaven, before buying and converting the apartment over.

Amazingly, slapping in a new battery and putting some gas into the engine had worked. When this was over, Dick was probably going to have to replace the plugs and hoses if this kept up however.

His comment, of course, was not directed at the bike so much as it was the current operator. A short cape fluttering in the wind behind the small driver. While flashes of yellow marked the underside of the cape, the predominant color was black. The short sleeves, the trunks, the gloves, and the boots were all black. Gone was any hint of green. The yellow was significantly downplayed, relegated now only to the R symbol and the underside of the cape. The body and legs were both red, but a far more muted tone than the bright colors that Dick had sported.

“If I had to guess, based on the color scheme and quality of the polyester fibers, then I would say that the previous Robin suit was designed in the late Nineteen Sixties,” Toyboy remarked, quite astutely delivering a proverbial slap across Dick’s ear drums.

Unlike Dick, Toyboy’s vision was inhuman. The lighting had been removed from the motorcycle, as the dark shadow shot down Interstate-12 in completely blacked out conditions. On this part of the interstate, the traffic was light. By the time anyone thought that they saw something, the bike was already vanishing back into the darkness. This ensemble is much more durable and appropriate to the post-modern child superhero,” the doll added, easing back on the throttle of the motorcycle as he approached the turn. Sliding into neutral, the android boy allowed the bike’s speed to bleed away before neatly executing the turn from off the asphalt onto the dirt county road. “The use of black is apparently associated with something that the internet identified as ‘edgelord’,” the Toy Wonder remarked candidly, noting, “This is reportedly a popular trait with tweens.”

If it was possible, Toyboy could hear the facepalm through the Bluetooth earpiece that was clipped to the side of his head. “Popularity with the eight to fourteen crowd wasn’t exactly what I was going for when I was Robin.”

Sliding the bike into third gear, the doll rocked the throttle as the motorcycle underneath him gave a dull roar while the tires bit into the dirt. “Perhaps a reason why the identity has failed to attract a successor in recent times,”

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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

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[INDENT][INDENT][i]

"One last time, I need to fly"

I want to connect to all the myths that Angel has attached to him, namely the existence of an angel from the testaments of documented experiences. I will be doing some research about that. Then, he is a mutant who has saved people that aim to hurt him. That’s quite a selflessness act considering he reaches across the globe chasing money and women. So, I want to explore his psyche as much as I do his stature.

Angel was created to be in the X-Men, and he was a hit early on. Since he was a founding X-Men member, he’s traveled the seven seas. He’s been involved in many different stories penned and illustrated by good names. He can stomp a mud hole in somebody, and I plan to have him kick ass. But I want my character to party with Iron Man and Bruce Wayne. I believe he is like them. Saving the world, partying, acting on reformations for the better of everyone.

He has mixed with huge characters like Apocalypse, and small creations alike. He doesn’t pull any punches because of the trauma he’s endured, meaning going through his wings being ripped off, brainwashed, and trying to help only to being ostracized. He has been subject to psychological exams about thought to-be narcissism or other likely personality disorders.

Collaboratively, he has a long history with the X-Men.

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 started reading Marvel comic book magazines when a friend introduced me to them a long time ago. There were a few that impressed me, but the benefactor of my money was X-Men titles and Hulk, and the F4. When I saw Angel, I thought he looked daunting in a huge white suit, in sunglasses and standing up very tall.

Basically, I want to explore the dark side that every man and mutant has inside from a seasoned mutant millionaire’s perspective. I don’t want to always help, and I want him to get into fights, but at the same time, I must honor how peaceful and helping he is.

I’m not going to force a bad guy routine, which of course “bad” is a three-letter word with a three mile long spectrum, I want to discover the in-and-outs of a forty year old mainstay of an apparently never-ending story. And, I want to do this with a winged, kind, wicked mutant millionaire.

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

Time will tell about who he knows and the things he does, and his fears and desires.

I want to connect to all the myths that Angel has attached to him, namely the existence of an angel from the testaments of documented experiences. I will be doing some research about that. Then, he is a mutant who has saved people that aim to hurt him. That’s quite a selflessness act considering he reaches across the globe chasing money and women. So, I want to explore his psyche as much as I do his stature.

Angel was created to be in the X-Men, and he was a hit early on. Since he was a founding X-Men member, he’s traveled the seven seas. He’s been involved in many different stories penned and illustrated by good names. He can stomp a mud hole in somebody, and I plan to have him kick ass. But I want my character to party with Iron Man and Bruce Wayne. I believe he is like them. Saving the world, partying, acting on reformations for the better of everyone.

He has mixed with huge characters like Apocalypse, and small creations alike. He doesn’t pull any punches because of the trauma he’s endured, meaning going through his wings being ripped off, brainwashed, and trying to help only to being ostracized. He has been subject to psychological exams about thought to-be narcissism or other likely personality disorders.

Collaboratively, it could be anyone. He is neutral to most affairs, this being to the fact that he is a big.. big... millionaire and politician.

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 started reading Marvel comic book magazines when a friend introduced me to them a long time ago. There were a few that impressed me, but the benefactor of my money was X-Men titles and Hulk, and the F4. When I saw Angel, I thought he looked daunting in a huge white suit, in sunglasses and standing up very tall.

Basically, I want to explore the dark side that every man and mutant has inside from a seasoned mutant millionaire’s perspective. I don’t want to always help, and I want him to get into fights, but at the same time, I must honor how peaceful and helping he is.

I’m not going to force a bad guy routine, which of course “bad” is a three-letter word with a three mile long spectrum, I want to discover the in-and-outs of a forty year old mainstay of an apparently never-ending story. And, I want to do this with a winged, kind, wicked mutant millionaire.

He keeps everything under wraps, but over the decade he has developed uncanny potions and chemicals, even so much as weapons technology.

S A M P L E P O S T:

“I’ve taken my independence and revved it to level 5. I have witnessed so much and hurt so bad that I am ready to kill. Pushed to the act of murder? It could be.”

Warren’s exceptional prayer to the god was unusually short. He got off from his knees and rotated both his shoulders because they were some tight. He cracked his neck, too. He took a gander at his penthouse. The lamp had too many loose half-inch big ripped pieces of red colored fabric bottom trim. When he moved his eyes around he naturally tuned in and was alert to his environment, like the melted ice that had turned into a small splotch of water at the foot end base of the bed, it having decomposed from Warren getting drunk and tipping over some ice from the bucket . He did not suffer from hangover.

The safety horn cried out inside of the fireman’s station. Those who were on duty and assigned, that is by the NYFD, hurriedly thought and acted and were on their way out the door. They turned up the siren, and sped towards a head-on collision not only dispatched as on fire, but also there was someone reported trapped. They flew!

BUZZ! There was an intercom properly installed throughout the house, and it was for communication between the Angel and approved buzzers. “Hello?”

“I hope you are doing good this morning, Mr. Worthington. Today, it is 80 degrees outside, which is warm enough. . . “
“Sure, but what about that collision?”

“It was reported fifteen minutes ago on 8th and Academy. I hope they help those people, it really sends chills up my back to think of some one being deceased because of a text, or a call.”

“Yep. OK, I will speak to you later, Raymond.”

“Very well. Thank you.”

WORTHINGTON HQ
There are people every where. They're all dressed well and they all smell good and smile, perhaps some flirting or undressing someone with their eyes, pointing at the chubby numbers analyst staring hard through his glasses at the busty, black-haired young emo girl yapping on her smartphone. She definitely couldn't be a sacrifice. Jerry had seen her on an amateur Internet show.

Elsewhere, there was an executive going back and forth with a sports medicine specialist from the Food and Drug company. It was a multi-faceted, intelligent conversation, but the specially ranked doctor was going to have to pursue accelerated information from a WLabs scientist. Then, there were shots fired! The scramble to run, hide, and not spill your espresso was not completely unlike a John Travolta movie, except people were getting hit by AK-47 bullets, and it was a killing onslaught so god awful that whoever was doing it was going to answer for it with his life. If he didn't off himself with his fascinating, stable victims.

Shattered glass was everywhere. Some people were wounded, and others may have been dead. Of course, many people called the authorities.

WARREN'S PENTHOUSE/TRANSIT
Warren was through eating breakfast. it included a candy apple. Now, he was preparing to leave the nest and see what was going on in the world, soundly commerce, chemical engineering, and upscale mutant prostitute houses. He had on his designer dark wash denim jeans when his main cell phone paused him.

The call was urgent. It was about the shooting that took place an hour ago, and Warren had to double up and get fully dressed, then he logged on his computer for a few minutes to search the basics about the office shooter. He got it all, schizoid personality with depression. Finally, he raced to the elevator and jetted down to his Escalade. He started the car, and pulled out from a private parking spot that had a sign stating that the parking space was legally reserved for Warren Worthington III.

The news companies were at the scene. They were busier than ever. Their question they asked were about robbery, terrorism, anti-animal testing, and the works. One in particular documented two interviews with Warren, and she thought that this time she would get in big time when she saw the Cadillac truck driving into the debacle. Every one launched into a frenzy when he stopped and parked beside a fire hydrant, and opened the door and hit the deck. Out of all the questions and commends, Warren had a definitive comment: "I know someone come in and starting shooting my employees. That is all." He knew everything about the assailant from reviewing his records at his work computer at the penthouse.

He caught a break when city police pushed the reporters back. He thanked them, and they allowed to step into the building, but the presence of cops and more cops, and with the US Marshals on the way, Warren was disconcerted. They did tell him that the man he knew as Jack Mannessy was actually a nine year old fugitive from Delaware prison. He underwent a trial, and was convicted of armed robbery, and acts of terrorism. Warren asked some questions to the police captain. How many were wounded, or shot, or traumatized. Were there any cracks in any of the network security infrastructure? Was there a thief motive? The captain didn't know, but this would amount to more capital crimes and probably death row. It would be, but Mr. Jack Mannessy was no longer alive.

Some days went by. It was a law suit, one after another Warren didn't mind. He only had a billion dollars, and a billion more. The US Marshals had explained everything, all the way down to the type of bullet used in the shooting. He asked if there was anything that the federal government could help out with, lawyers or extra security. They provided information to civilian protection agencies, a bunch of ex-soldiers and SEALs. He was even offered a gun permit and a specially trained canine assistant who would go for the neck. Warren passed. It was an act of disgruntled, domestic work office terrorism. He would be okay.

COURT
"The proceedings today qualify that the involved claimants maintain sovereignty over the assets that hereby will be dignified unless otherwise judged. The trial before the court must be thorough, documented properly, constitutional, and just. There will be no conditions that I am not made appointed to, because my court will be violated, and I will not be violated. Objections must be consistent with what is going on accordingly with the trial. Now, for the defense. You have offered every one of your opponent each $2,000,000?"

Well, Warren didn't know too many suburban families that couldn't use a couple million dollars, so he put the offer on the table. Out of the three organized thief clans, all of them took the deal. While the proceedings were handled, he had two cups of coffee. He had a taste for some liquor. He surveyed everything, including himself. He smiled because he was giving away six million dollars, and he wanted to get drunk. He recalled news that it was being legislatively argued, it was about whether people could sue company head figures due to the state of the country, business law, and terrorism.

His attorney that worked for Worthington Labs earned a $100;000 bonus on top of his usual $250,000. Three days after a brief vacation to Washington, D.C., Abraham Washington pulled into the parking area in a new 2019 Mercedes Benz. And, a Switzerland crafted timepiece.

Warren had been running here and running there. He gave in to the reporters and conducted several interviews. They would not get pushy with him after they understood how belligerent he could act. But, his favorite thing to do was go to the beach and go crazy with his jet skis and floats, with his friends and associates. He picked everybody up. There was ten of them, and they were drinking. It was going to be awesome. So, they arrived in the concrete loading dock and unhooked three jet skis and Warren flirted with one of his friends. He made her laugh and move sexy, but it was only flirting.

It was one hour in. They slowed down drinking. Warren was sitting around with everybody. Suddenly, he had to use the restroom He walked away unnoticed. He walked away, and he had the urge: the urge to sail away. He had hid his wings with a huge life vest and a tailor made long sleeve shirt that he was wearing underneath the vest. He stripped it off.

He looked around, the coast was clear. So, he walked forward bearing a strong pace. His vision exacted, reducing water production in his eyes, widening his eyes. He felt the surge, the energy, his shoulders being tugged on, his bare feet levitating from the ground, his back relaxing, his abs tightening. He flew.

He was in the sky. He felt so good. He helicoptered his wings to and fro, and as he landed on his sky high path his wings sedated and he went into gliding. He loved the cruise. He could see people all over the beach. Suddenly, he twisted and spiraled up and down, feeling ferocious and good and having fun. He noticed a vendor, he believed it was hot dogs and chips. He had seen a kid not too old, so Warren dipped by the vendor and got a hot dog with mustard and ketchup, and flew it back to the boy. The kid's mom asked him if she had seen Warren before, but he said no and went on. He had a good time, but he returned to the spot where he had stripped and put back on his beach gear.

With his friends, he was a badass type of nice person, but to himself he was the Angel.

@role model In order to keep the coding when you copy a sheet, you need to click 'View Raw' in the top left hand corner of a post and then copy all the text on the page you're directed to. This text includes the raw code so when you paste it, it will retain all the formatting.

Simply selecting all the text in a post with your mouse will only copy the text, not the formatting.

I might try to work something up for this, as I've never been in a singular universe RP. Dunno what I'll reimagine for a character though.

-Ω

What would you say to a Darkhawk with ties to Hawkman lore? Or maybe a Bronze Tiger connected to the Black Panther?

-Ω

What would you say to a Darkhawk with ties to Hawkman lore? Or maybe a Bronze Tiger connected to the Black Panther?

-Ω

I don't see any immediate problems, I'd certainly entertain an app.

It may be that I'm dumb, which isn't irregular, but basically I need for the color slategrey and center alignment at the header(s) of the paper.

You're going to have to instruct what exactly you want if you cannot approve me, which makes me feel like a lousy XMen story reader.

You're going to have to instruct what exactly you want if you cannot approve me, which makes me feel like a lousy XMen story reader.

It's more familiarizing yourself with the thread itself, than as a general reader of any particular comics.

Hell, your character can deviate from what appears in the comics. A lot of the best stuff does.

Personal word of advice, I'd probably steer clear of the time machine, myself.

You're going to have to instruct what exactly you want if you cannot approve me, which makes me feel like a lousy XMen story reader.

As @Hound55 stated, this has nothing to do with your ability to read comics. It's great that you know the canon Angel but the main idea of Absolute is to take a character and then reimagine them, redefine them how you'd like to see them done and then put them into the world that the game has created. Therefore it's very important that you read the former X-Men player's sheet and posts. Additionally, you should generally read over the other character sheets to get a better idea of the game and how it works. Absolute Comics is a bit different from a lot of other group RPs on RPG. It's not as collaborative and requires players to be very self-motivated and driven.

This is not a game where I'm going to instruct you exactly what to do.

That said, on your sheet, under the 'Character Concept' heading you still don't have the correct information. What you've told me there are simply more motivations and reasons for choosing Angel. That's fine, but that belongs under 'Motivations and Goals'. Under 'Character Concept' I want you to tell me the character's history or biography. Look at the other Character Sheets, you'll notice the first section sets the character up with a brief description of who they are and how they came to be.

OK I really want to be part of this thread so I will be reimagining Angel. I really have, I failed to incorporate my motivations and goals and stuff. I know it's not about reading comics. But alas, I hold onto the future.

OK I really want to be part of this thread so I will be reimagining Angel. I really have, I failed to incorporate my motivations and goals and stuff. I know it's not about reading comics. But alas, I hold onto the future.

I really feel as though we're misunderstanding each other. Your replies feel very fragmented.

@Lord Wraith

I am going to look at the CONCEPTS on other players and find out just what exactly this "misunderstanding" this is. LOL

Comment when you're ready. I know it'll be after I attempt to optimize my CS, but I have to go some where for a little bit of time, so I will do it when I return. That being said, when I come back to the computer I wish you would instruct me

Don't give up in me

@role model It would probably be easier if you joined the game's Discord if you want step by step instructions.

-smiles- Haha All right To the Discord I will go

_{An excerpt from Titans - Chapter One: Part Five}

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Adrenaline surged through his body. The rhythmic thumping in his chest synchronized with the furious pumping of his legs. He rounded what felt like the tenth corner, sneakers skidding across the loose dirt and pebbles. Hastily navigating the labyrinthian back alleys with the telltale sounds of a struggle guiding his path, Eli grit his teeth as another scream from Starfire rang out.

Damn it, he cursed. Not fast enough.

Rounding the final corner, Elijah skidded to a stop, nearly toppling over at the abrupt reversal of momentum. He narrowly avoided colliding with a man sailing through the air, the body slamming hard against a brick wall. Following the trajectory of the man, Eli spotted Koriand'r floating several feet above the ground.

She appeared in rough shape. Her shirt was torn, portions completely missing, and almost looked to be melted at the edges. Her golden skin was blotched red in some spots, and her forearms looked nearly blistered. Fists balled tightly and green eyes flaring with energy, the alien girl loomed over the man she had just thrown.

"That is enough. You are defeated. I do not wish to hurt you any further."

Eli allowed himself a mental sigh of relief as he realized Koriand'r had the situation handled, albeit a little worse for wear in the process. He looked towards the man who was nursing a small gash across the forehead. Looking to be in his 30's, the man wore dark, heavy clothing with sleeves rolled up to reveal comprehensive inkwork. The word 'melter' was featured prominently in gaudy text along one arm. And, Eli couldn't be sure, but as the man slowly shuffled to his feet there appeared to be track marks noticeable around the inside of an elbow.

"Shit, man!" A new voice swore loudly.

The sudden cursing reminded Elijah that he had been warned of multiple men participating in an attack on a kid. Glancing to his left, Eli spotted the other perpetrator cowering against a wall. More handsome and with softer features than his partner, this one looked terrified as his eyes flicked between the two combatants.

Eli's gaze then drifted over further to notice the prone form of a young, green-skinned boy. He barely had enough time to register this unusual appearance before he heard Koriand'r shouting in his direction. Whipping his head back around, the teen was confronted by the tattooed man's raised arm. Elijah wasn't aware of the danger until the outstretched hand glowed with crimson. Eyes widening, he reacted too slowly as the energy radiated forth.

His vision was filled with fiery red. Koriand'r quickly positioned herself before him, throwing her arms in a cross to shield him from the blast. Eli could feel no heat from the energy, but he watched as his friend's skin bubbled and began to peel away slightly. She let out an angry yell and launched her body forward, forcing her way through the attack to once more confront the powered individual.

Eli stumbled back, catching himself before he fell. Holy fucking shit!

He stared in amazement as the two fought before him. Koriand'r doing her best to subdue the man without serious harm while her foe relentlessly unleashed wave after wave of that unknown energy.

This is... Eli's thoughts both raced and struggled to form coherently. I knew they existed. I've seen what Starfire could do. But... Jesus shit Christ.

Even despite his panic, Eli wanted to join the fight. His muscles tensed as he watched, hoping to find an opening to help Koriand'r take the man down. But as he witnessed another crimson beam streak past Koriand'r, he knew that this conflict was far above his weight class. Eli dug his fingers hard into each palm out of frustration.

Taking a second to focus himself, Eli forced his gaze away from the superpowered struggle. The boy was the real priority, he knew. When he looked back towards the kid, Elijah saw the handsome man bending down to drag the body away.

Eli charged forward, reacting on pure instinct, and closed the distance in a few strides. Dropping his right shoulder down, he bodychecked the would-be-abductor causing both to topple over one another. The two scrambled back off the ground quickly, squaring off. Despite the fear etched across his attractive face, the man still managed to snarl at Eli as he produced a switchblade from a pocket.

Elijah moved into a defensive position. "You don't wanna do this, man."

Switching his hold on the knife to an underhanded grip, the man nervously took a step forward. "I need the kid. I can't leave here without him."

"That's not happening."

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I think I tried applying with the Bronze Tiger concept the last time and it didn't make the cut because of other's plans for stuff in Wakanda, so I'm thinking today when I get in from work I'll take a stab at the Thanagarian Darkhawk idea... @Lord Wraith

-Ω

I think I tried applying with the Bronze Tiger concept the last time and it didn't make the cut because of other's plans for stuff in Wakanda, so I'm thinking today when I get in from work I'll take a stab at the Thanagarian Darkhawk idea... @Lord Wraith

-Ω

That was a different game. We have no one in Wakanda right now. But either option is fine by me.

@Lord Wraith Here's that old 'Tiger CS, gonna try and relax later and put something down for that Darkhawk idea. Dealing with some heavy stuff irl right now but I need an RP to help take my mind off of things. The android Human Torch is another character I'd be interested in reimagining... if you didn't already have somebody applying with Angel I'd resubmit my old cosmic Archangel idea.

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🐅 C O N C E P T A B S T R A C T:

🐅 Plots and Story Arcs:

- 50 Shades of Bronze:

- Way of the Fists:

- League of His Own:

🐅 N O T E S:

🐅 R E F E R E N C E S:

-Ω