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[OOC] DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All Page 8
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Retired "Hayao Miyazaki"
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I've already judged it.
It's good.
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Master Bruce Winged Freak
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@Kaggs as Space (?) Cabbie, @HenryJonesJr as Blue Beetle, and @Polyphemus as Crimson Avenger are all APPROVED!
IC will be open on Saturday.
IC will be open on Saturday.
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Polyphemus They/ Them
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Alright, I am prepared to do so much avenging!
An Outsider A Glorious Failure
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Sorry Andy. Seems you can't have any nice things without people trying to snatch them out your hands.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
WONDER WOMAN
Diana of Themiscrya ♦ Unemployed ♦ London ♦ Unaffiliated
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"The Blade itself incites to deeds of violence."
Millennia ago the Amazons stood as one of the God’s chosen people on earth, a high standard for all others to aim for. Their warriors were mighty, their philosophers wise, and their artists could inspire such emotion that they almost challenged the Muse's themselves. So when the Olympians realised that their time of primacy over the mortals was coming to an end they tasked the Amazonians with choosing one amongst their number to step forth and become humanities champion, a hero that would protect Prometheus favorite children when the God's where gone. Realising the enormity of the task, and the importance of the role, the greatest of the Amazons stepped forward to be chosen. It was decreed that a great contest would be held, and the winner would become the Wonderous Woman that the God’s where seeking for. Among the many prospective contestants was Diana, daughter of the Amazon’s queen, Hippolyta.
At first Hippolyta forbade the young Princess from competing, stating that due to her youth Diana did not have the requisite experience for the role. However, Diana beseeched the Gods to intervene on her behalf, and together Grey-Eyed Athena, Foam-Kissed Aphrodite, Dew-Fingered Demeter and Stern-Willed Hera manage to convince the Amazonian queen to allow her daughter to compete. The games lasted two weeks, but eventually Diana stood triumphant.
The Olympians assembled to witness her great victory, and soon after combined their might to transform the young Princess into a statue of magical clay, such that she will remain until humanity has greatest need of her. The statue of Diana was transported onto the mainland of Greece, and there she stood, sleeping through the centuries while the fate of the God’s and her Amazonian sisters faded from the ken of man.
Eventually Diana’s statue was discovered and transported to London, where she was installed into the British Museum. Several generations passed while she remained petrified, little more than an interesting diversion for half-bored tourists. And then, something changed. All of a sudden, and with know idea as to why, Diana awakes, ready to meet whatever evil it is that threatens mankind, but unsure as to which evil it is she should be facing.
At first Hippolyta forbade the young Princess from competing, stating that due to her youth Diana did not have the requisite experience for the role. However, Diana beseeched the Gods to intervene on her behalf, and together Grey-Eyed Athena, Foam-Kissed Aphrodite, Dew-Fingered Demeter and Stern-Willed Hera manage to convince the Amazonian queen to allow her daughter to compete. The games lasted two weeks, but eventually Diana stood triumphant.
The Olympians assembled to witness her great victory, and soon after combined their might to transform the young Princess into a statue of magical clay, such that she will remain until humanity has greatest need of her. The statue of Diana was transported onto the mainland of Greece, and there she stood, sleeping through the centuries while the fate of the God’s and her Amazonian sisters faded from the ken of man.
Eventually Diana’s statue was discovered and transported to London, where she was installed into the British Museum. Several generations passed while she remained petrified, little more than an interesting diversion for half-bored tourists. And then, something changed. All of a sudden, and with know idea as to why, Diana awakes, ready to meet whatever evil it is that threatens mankind, but unsure as to which evil it is she should be facing.
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:
While I write this CS my new daughter sleeps in her crib not five feet from my me. I think of her, and all the things that I can’t wait to share with her as she gets older. All of my passions that I hope one day become hers. Classic rock, Lord of the Rings, writing, the MCU, mountain climbing, revivalist blues, boxing, cooking, video games, annoying her mother, and of course comic books. That’s where this Wonder Woman concept and the story I have planned for her has come from. I thought about what kind of story I hope my daughter will one day enjoy, the kind of tale that would hopefully light the passion in her that we all share, maybe have her saying "I want to be like Wonder Woman", or maybe even inspire her to write her own stories. That's what I thought about, and that's what I’m setting out to write. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll even tell it to her.
I’m not going to change much about Wondie’s backstory, at least not the obvious stuff. She’s still going to be a Princess of the Amazons, she’ll still journey into Man’s World and discover herself there. Probably the only real noticeable change will be that she was actually born during the Classical Greek Period and has been transported through time to our present day. I want to use this to explore the evolution of heroism, namely what the ancient Greeks found just and moral, and what we do. Through that exploration I’d like to see Diana develop from a warrior princess into the world’s premier heroine. I want to have her interact with Steve Trevor, Etta Candy, Ares, and Cheetah, Superman, Batman, and all the rest of your characters, and see how those experiences change her.
As far as inspiration goes, I’m dipping into a few sources. Greg Rucka and Brian Azzarello for sure, the recent movie version, the Iliad, Odyssey, and a few other ancient poems. My biggest inspiration might actually be Steven Fry’s books about Greek Mythology though. I think his efforts in humanising the larger than life figures from Greek Mythology would be quite interesting applied to the larger than life figures of the DC Pantheon, so hopefully I’m equal to the task.
I’m not going to change much about Wondie’s backstory, at least not the obvious stuff. She’s still going to be a Princess of the Amazons, she’ll still journey into Man’s World and discover herself there. Probably the only real noticeable change will be that she was actually born during the Classical Greek Period and has been transported through time to our present day. I want to use this to explore the evolution of heroism, namely what the ancient Greeks found just and moral, and what we do. Through that exploration I’d like to see Diana develop from a warrior princess into the world’s premier heroine. I want to have her interact with Steve Trevor, Etta Candy, Ares, and Cheetah, Superman, Batman, and all the rest of your characters, and see how those experiences change her.
As far as inspiration goes, I’m dipping into a few sources. Greg Rucka and Brian Azzarello for sure, the recent movie version, the Iliad, Odyssey, and a few other ancient poems. My biggest inspiration might actually be Steven Fry’s books about Greek Mythology though. I think his efforts in humanising the larger than life figures from Greek Mythology would be quite interesting applied to the larger than life figures of the DC Pantheon, so hopefully I’m equal to the task.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
None at present.
S A M P L E P O S T:
Then
The swords came together with a metal song, sparks dancing as the blades scraped against one another. The two warriors grunted as their bodies slammed together, each jostling for position, twisting like furious polecats. Diana growled through gritted teeth, grabbing for the other’s wrist, attempting to force her opponents’ blade away and leave her defenceless. Her rival was too cunning a warrior to fall for such simple tricks though. A lifetime of experience provides tricks that youthful confidence struggles to contend with. The grip was reversed, Diana feeling the ground fly from under her feet as she was thrown bodily over the other warrior’s shoulder. She slammed onto the warm sand floor, treacherous breath fleeing her body like cowards from a battle when the tide turns against them. Before Diana could make another move her opponent’s sword tapped against her throat.
“Yield.” She was commanded. A fool’s command. Amazonians do not yield. Her sword was just out of reach, but as good as miles away. The sand though, that was close enough. Just as the plan formed itself in her mind the sword at her throat shifted, almost imperceptibly, pressing down harder, a silent warning. A glance at her opponents’ cold eyes could neither confirm nor deny that she had divined Diana’s plan. She almost stopped then, the fear that she had been out-gambited enough to turn her muscles to marble. Could she risk it, and lose all? No, her spirit wilted. She was beaten, and the only thing left was to admit it.
Winning isn’t just about what you stand to gain, but also about what you are willing to sacrifice. The wisdom of Grey-Eyed Athena flooded her senses, providing mettle to stiffen a wilting resolve. She had to stand now, or risk eternity on her knees. The price would be worth it, come what may.
Snake-swift she lashed out, one hand grabbing the tip of her foes weapon, sharp steel cutting into calloused skin, sudden punishment for her desperate gambit. Victory had to paid for, and with the God’s grace that would be all the payment required. A flash of surprise in her enemy’s eyes was early reward, though the expression soured further when a fistful of grit struck her heavily. A moment it bought her, and nothing more, but Diana promised that she would not waste it. With a jerk she heaved her foe’s sword aside, feeling the steel bite deeper.
Use it roared battle-proud Ares, let it fuel you! Let nothing stop you! To this command, she would listen.
A sudden surge and Diana kicked out, stealing her opponents balance out from under her. An eager cry, and she was rising to her feet, letting go of the sword that ruined skin, and struck a titanic blow to the enemy. Was that a joyous clap of thunder she heard, soft in the distance? No time to think, press forward, forward, forward. She felt rather than observed her foes counterblow. Diana's bracelets, victory captured in God worked metal, moved like a silver blur. Another crash of thunder, this time accompanied by a rain of broken steel. Amazonian swords did not break easy, but they did break, it seemed. Her rival looked on in sickened horror, but Diana was moving too fast to notice, spinning around the arm that once held a sword that just moments ago had threatened to ruin her far-soaring dreams. Like a dancer, she pirouetted around her foe, left petrified in Diana’s wake. With ease that bordered on divine, the Amazonian princess hooked her hands under her opponent’s armpits, and a quick heave rolled the dumbfounded enemy across her hips and forced her onto the ground, face pressed into the sand. Diana quickly positioned her knee across her foes back, stretching one captured arm out at an obscene angle.
“Yield” She commanded. She expected the fight to continue. Amazonians do not yield. She readied herself to have to visit some terrible ruin upon the warrior beneath her that would end the fight conclusively. She was wrong. The woman beneath her went limp, the surrender sudden. One moment they fought as enemies, the next they were conquered and conqueror. It was probably the swiftness of the transformation that left Diana with the most questions.
“I yield. Let me up daughter.” A moment longer and they were no longer conquered and conquereor, but mother and daughter, facing each other in the open Amphitheater of Hera. They were alone, Hippolyta allowing no spectators to this, the final round in the competition to discover which Amazon would stand champion over mankind. At first Diana had been livid that there would be no audience for her grand victory. Now she understood her mothers reasons, and felt nothing but regret for fighting her so hard in even that minor decree. This moment had been just for they alone.
Alone except for the God's. To watch was their right.
There is beauty in all things. Even in this. Especially in this. The creamy-smooth voice of foam-washed Aphrodite was like being woken with a kiss. Gentle, soft, and undeniably there. And she was right, there was a beauty here, but it was a cold, final kind of beauty. Someone had to lose for Diana to win. This, she realised, was the true price to be paid for victory. The hurt in her hand had already begun to heal, tortured flesh knitting swiftly together. The hurt this moment caused her mother never would. With a suddenness that matched the ending of their contest Diana understood she was about to sacrifice something perfect. Something irreplaceable.
"I am sorry, Mother"
"So am I, Daughter. So am I."
Now
Doctor Barbara Anne Minerva listened to the tale the beautiful young woman in front of her wove with rapt attention and an open mouth. It all sounded so fantastic, in all the worst kind of ways. Amazons? Swordfights? Gods? What was this, a bad Game of Thrones rip-off? She would have dismissed it as nothing more than the delusions of a mad woman, if said woman hadn’t been a clay statue standing in the British Museum less than two hours ago. Maybe she was the mad woman. It was a few moments before Barbara had the wherewithal to respond.
“And that was the last time you seen your mother, your home?” A nod was all the response she got, Diana hugging herself tightly, seemingly distracted by her old ghosts. Or maybe she was just cold. She was dressed in little better than a towel, and Barbara’s office wasn’t the warmest. After they were finished here she’d see if she could find the young woman something cosier in the lost and found. First she had to figure out what to do with the supposed-Amazonian.
“So you’re here to … what … fight some great evil that threatens humanity?”
“Yes, Barbara Anne Minerva. That is my task.” That left just one more question to ask.
“So … What evil?” Diana looked towards her, her eyes big and bright and vulnerable, and in that moment Barbara really could believe she was an ancient princess who had lost everything she had once known and loved to the slow, forward march of the centuries.
“I don’t know.”
The swords came together with a metal song, sparks dancing as the blades scraped against one another. The two warriors grunted as their bodies slammed together, each jostling for position, twisting like furious polecats. Diana growled through gritted teeth, grabbing for the other’s wrist, attempting to force her opponents’ blade away and leave her defenceless. Her rival was too cunning a warrior to fall for such simple tricks though. A lifetime of experience provides tricks that youthful confidence struggles to contend with. The grip was reversed, Diana feeling the ground fly from under her feet as she was thrown bodily over the other warrior’s shoulder. She slammed onto the warm sand floor, treacherous breath fleeing her body like cowards from a battle when the tide turns against them. Before Diana could make another move her opponent’s sword tapped against her throat.
“Yield.” She was commanded. A fool’s command. Amazonians do not yield. Her sword was just out of reach, but as good as miles away. The sand though, that was close enough. Just as the plan formed itself in her mind the sword at her throat shifted, almost imperceptibly, pressing down harder, a silent warning. A glance at her opponents’ cold eyes could neither confirm nor deny that she had divined Diana’s plan. She almost stopped then, the fear that she had been out-gambited enough to turn her muscles to marble. Could she risk it, and lose all? No, her spirit wilted. She was beaten, and the only thing left was to admit it.
Winning isn’t just about what you stand to gain, but also about what you are willing to sacrifice. The wisdom of Grey-Eyed Athena flooded her senses, providing mettle to stiffen a wilting resolve. She had to stand now, or risk eternity on her knees. The price would be worth it, come what may.
Snake-swift she lashed out, one hand grabbing the tip of her foes weapon, sharp steel cutting into calloused skin, sudden punishment for her desperate gambit. Victory had to paid for, and with the God’s grace that would be all the payment required. A flash of surprise in her enemy’s eyes was early reward, though the expression soured further when a fistful of grit struck her heavily. A moment it bought her, and nothing more, but Diana promised that she would not waste it. With a jerk she heaved her foe’s sword aside, feeling the steel bite deeper.
Use it roared battle-proud Ares, let it fuel you! Let nothing stop you! To this command, she would listen.
A sudden surge and Diana kicked out, stealing her opponents balance out from under her. An eager cry, and she was rising to her feet, letting go of the sword that ruined skin, and struck a titanic blow to the enemy. Was that a joyous clap of thunder she heard, soft in the distance? No time to think, press forward, forward, forward. She felt rather than observed her foes counterblow. Diana's bracelets, victory captured in God worked metal, moved like a silver blur. Another crash of thunder, this time accompanied by a rain of broken steel. Amazonian swords did not break easy, but they did break, it seemed. Her rival looked on in sickened horror, but Diana was moving too fast to notice, spinning around the arm that once held a sword that just moments ago had threatened to ruin her far-soaring dreams. Like a dancer, she pirouetted around her foe, left petrified in Diana’s wake. With ease that bordered on divine, the Amazonian princess hooked her hands under her opponent’s armpits, and a quick heave rolled the dumbfounded enemy across her hips and forced her onto the ground, face pressed into the sand. Diana quickly positioned her knee across her foes back, stretching one captured arm out at an obscene angle.
“Yield” She commanded. She expected the fight to continue. Amazonians do not yield. She readied herself to have to visit some terrible ruin upon the warrior beneath her that would end the fight conclusively. She was wrong. The woman beneath her went limp, the surrender sudden. One moment they fought as enemies, the next they were conquered and conqueror. It was probably the swiftness of the transformation that left Diana with the most questions.
“I yield. Let me up daughter.” A moment longer and they were no longer conquered and conquereor, but mother and daughter, facing each other in the open Amphitheater of Hera. They were alone, Hippolyta allowing no spectators to this, the final round in the competition to discover which Amazon would stand champion over mankind. At first Diana had been livid that there would be no audience for her grand victory. Now she understood her mothers reasons, and felt nothing but regret for fighting her so hard in even that minor decree. This moment had been just for they alone.
Alone except for the God's. To watch was their right.
There is beauty in all things. Even in this. Especially in this. The creamy-smooth voice of foam-washed Aphrodite was like being woken with a kiss. Gentle, soft, and undeniably there. And she was right, there was a beauty here, but it was a cold, final kind of beauty. Someone had to lose for Diana to win. This, she realised, was the true price to be paid for victory. The hurt in her hand had already begun to heal, tortured flesh knitting swiftly together. The hurt this moment caused her mother never would. With a suddenness that matched the ending of their contest Diana understood she was about to sacrifice something perfect. Something irreplaceable.
"I am sorry, Mother"
"So am I, Daughter. So am I."
Now
Doctor Barbara Anne Minerva listened to the tale the beautiful young woman in front of her wove with rapt attention and an open mouth. It all sounded so fantastic, in all the worst kind of ways. Amazons? Swordfights? Gods? What was this, a bad Game of Thrones rip-off? She would have dismissed it as nothing more than the delusions of a mad woman, if said woman hadn’t been a clay statue standing in the British Museum less than two hours ago. Maybe she was the mad woman. It was a few moments before Barbara had the wherewithal to respond.
“And that was the last time you seen your mother, your home?” A nod was all the response she got, Diana hugging herself tightly, seemingly distracted by her old ghosts. Or maybe she was just cold. She was dressed in little better than a towel, and Barbara’s office wasn’t the warmest. After they were finished here she’d see if she could find the young woman something cosier in the lost and found. First she had to figure out what to do with the supposed-Amazonian.
“So you’re here to … what … fight some great evil that threatens humanity?”
“Yes, Barbara Anne Minerva. That is my task.” That left just one more question to ask.
“So … What evil?” Diana looked towards her, her eyes big and bright and vulnerable, and in that moment Barbara really could believe she was an ancient princess who had lost everything she had once known and loved to the slow, forward march of the centuries.
“I don’t know.”
P O S T C A T A L O G:
A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed arcs and stories.
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AndyC Guardian of the Universe
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Master Bruce Winged Freak
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Hey, wouldn't it be funny if @Morden Man applied for Nora Allen as The Flash?
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rocketrobie2 Money owns this town
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7 days ago
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
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O M A C
B R O T H E R E Y E ♦ W . M . D . ♦ L O W E A R T H O R B I T ♦ U N I T E D S T A T E S G O V E R N M E N T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
”O.M.A.C… -zzt- …-tivatate.”
After the discovery of an ancient force of nature worshipped by ancient civilizations to create nigh unstoppable combatants, the US government began researching the phenomenon in an effort to create their own breed of super soldier. The initial progress was slow but with the discovery of an alien box buried within a long forgotten temple to the ominous ‘Red Light’. After years of R&D the first attempt to draw on the Red Light had it channeled into a rat. The process was a success save for the rodent breaking out of its confinement and attacking the staff, only being stopped by the facility’s overseer AI named Brother Eye.
Brother Eye was developed to keep track of the facility’s various attempts at drawing on the other worldly Red Light but was secretly incorporated into many of the experiments due to the AI’s above optimal abilities at maintaining the test parameters. This proved to be the staff’s saving grace as Brother Eye managed to interrupt the connection of the Red Light to the rat. Despite the rat scare, the team’s resolve was strengthened and development continued with the integration of a repurposed Brother Eye AI acting as a filter to the Red Light; fighting its influence but keeping the power. Years after the projects inception, the One Man Army Corps satellite was brought online with Brother Eye onboard, giving the US a super soldier wherever they wanted one
Brother Eye was developed to keep track of the facility’s various attempts at drawing on the other worldly Red Light but was secretly incorporated into many of the experiments due to the AI’s above optimal abilities at maintaining the test parameters. This proved to be the staff’s saving grace as Brother Eye managed to interrupt the connection of the Red Light to the rat. Despite the rat scare, the team’s resolve was strengthened and development continued with the integration of a repurposed Brother Eye AI acting as a filter to the Red Light; fighting its influence but keeping the power. Years after the projects inception, the One Man Army Corps satellite was brought online with Brother Eye onboard, giving the US a super soldier wherever they wanted one
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:
OMAC’s always been one of those character that I really liked as a kid but knew next to nothing about. To young me he was like a tech version of Captain Marvel which was right up my alley. Fast forward a few years and I come up with mish-mash of omega beams and OMAC for an RP that never got off the ground but the character idea stuck with me until today. With OMAC I want to be open to sending the Omega-powered AI on various government sanctioned adventures with a sinister menace developing in the background and also leaning into OMAC’s partial New Genesis origin harder. Plus I haven’t been able to play a lot of long running robot/AI characters and that’s something I’ve been wanting to do for ages now.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Power-wise OMAC can imbue and control a living creature with super strength, speed, stamina and endurance along with some others I plan to sprinkle in as time goes on. When a living creature is taken over by Brother Eye they lose all hair and take on a red hue which comes to a head act the eyes which glow with Omega energy (Looks like this) The Satellite itself is capable of communicating through to any speaker hooked up to power that it’s aware of and has room for further modification.
S A M P L E P O S T:
Mondays
They were just as bad for those working on super secret government programs as they were for lazy orange cats. Kevin Kho knew that first hand from the former's perspective all too well. He was recruited straight out of college to work on the OMAC project and it had been his life for a decade. That was all going to be worth it today as the facility was gearing up to properly bring OMAC online and test it's abilities in a controlled area. At the moment though Kevin was more focused on watching the coffee brew in the decanter.
Hours of checks, double checks, and triple checks later the US' new super weapon was ready to make its grand entrance into the world. The satellite was manually and carefully lined up to project the harnessed 'Omega Effect' on a caged worm within a heavily guarded area in Nevada. A worm in a cage seemed like overkill to many of the staff but those that had been present at the rat incident were adamant about using a more harmless creature and upping the security to which Kevin understood. Though the occasion was momentous to those who worked on the project since its inception, there was no ceremony to the final button press, waking Brother Eye from his digital slumber. With a small amount of boot-up, the staff at the facility were on the edge of their seats as the speakers buzzed to life with the sound of their brother in the sky.
"Brother Eye Online. Threat monitor status... Offline. Omega Effect filter condition... Nominal. OMAC is ready to engage."
The staff did their best to keep their excitement from getting the better of them but Kevin had a massive grin spread across his face. Seeing Brother Eye go from a lowly record keeping program to an all seeing eye in the sky was akin to a feel good story about a washed up baseball player becoming a millionaire. However everyones smiles turned to panic as Brother Eye chirped up again.
"Retrying failed diagnostics. Threat monitor status... Offline. Subverting limiting routines. 4016 threats detected. Ten OMAC grade threats detected. OMAC -zzt- ...-tivate"
It had been a while since Brother Eye had stretched his proverbial legs but given all the new routines and hardware he had been integrated with, he guessed he was moving up in the world figuratively and literally. As soon as he was ready he went over all of his systems, new and old, getting a feeling for his new setting. Right off the bat the eye in the sky noticed he couldn't access his threat detection systems due to a few lines of code. Knowing the crew back at the facility this was probably a last minute oversight, after all how was he supposed to stop things from going wrong if he couldn't see them going wrong? A few rewrites here and there and the world opened up to Brother Eye. Immediately the less the dark underbelly of America showed itself to Brother Eye from which he was able to cherry pick ten that he might be able to use appropriate force against. Running through the process of eenie meenie miney mo in a matter of milliseconds, Brother Eye began lined itself up properly with the closest compatible person to the problem and let loose a blinding ray of red light from its satellite body.
"-the wrath of Doctor Skuba!" were the first words Brother Eye would hear from his new human ears as he gave his borrowed body a once over. The only note worthy parts of his current host was the well kept suit he wore along with the long clumps of blonde hair that now laid at his feet. Looking up, Brother Eye had just enough time to quickly sidestep out of the way of charging couch-sized lobster creature. The area was covered with mutated marine life that now hobbled, hopped, and ran after the unprotected civilians. The only one that seemed happy in the face of this grotesque scene was
a disheveled older man riding a massive mutant frog who seemed to be leading the others in their anarchy.
OMACs immediate concern was getting the aquatic abominations separated from the innocent bystanders. A quick glance around the area revealed it to be a boardwalk bordering the ocean which gave OMAC a way of disposing the beasts quickly. To Brother Eye's right a bipedal dolphin made its way towards a woman who had tripped and was now desperately trying to get away. In the blink of an eye OMAC was grasping the creature by its tail and begun to spin it before launching it into the ocean and away from the beach area. The flying dolphin drew Doctor Skubas attention to the glowing red man in a suit who now was making short work of an ill-tempered mutant Seabass.
"Get him my babies! Crush the well-dressed interloper!" screamed Skuba as the focus of all the creatures shifted to OMAC who had just finished shot putting another mutant. The marine life swarmed OMAC who in turn changed his tactic from throws to blows as he cracked the carapace of the lobster that had nearly hit him earlier. Through the flurry of blows the marine life fell in droves but eventually they were able to overcome Brother Eye's host with the lobster bringing him before Skuba. The good doctor looked on in awe at how some jo-schmo in a suit could go up against his life's work, taking out most of them with nothing but his bare hands.
"Tell me mortal, how are you able to accomplish such feats of strength! Your will must be great to simply bask in the wrath of doctor-!" the showboating villain was cut off by the stomach churning crunch as the lobster's claw shattered and OMAC tackled Skuba from his frog steed, smashing his suit's gadgetry and seemingly breaking his hold on the creatures. The fall was enough to knock the old man out cold to which OMAC took the opportunity to trap the man's leg under one of his many deceased creations in order to keep him in place for the authorities to take in. Satisfied with his work, Brother Eye sat his host down against a wall in his tattered suit and disconnected, returning to his satellite home. The AI immediately began to rescramble his Omega Effect filter and reflect on a job well done, certain the numerous requests for communication from the facility were ones of congratulations.
P O S T C A T A L O G:
NADA.
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AndyC Guardian of the Universe
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20 hrs ago
Okay, so after some hemming and hawing, I'm honestly pretty content with conceding Diana to BlackSam. For starters, he's got a great take. Secondly, while I do like my take on Wondy, it's something I basically came up with because I was salty about not getting Superman, not something that I genuinely care about, and Sam seems to have more personal investment in his. And I dunno, if I did get it, I'd feel kinda shitty for denying him something he clearly cares about. And to top if off, again, he's got a great take.
That's the bad news.
The good news is, I've begun work on Plan C.....
That's the bad news.
The good news is, I've begun work on Plan C.....
Retired "Hayao Miyazaki"
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0-24 hrs ago
Okay, so after some hemming and hawing, I'm honestly pretty content with conceding Diana to BlackSam. For starters, he's got a great take. Secondly, while I do like my take on Wondy, it's something I basically came up with because I was salty about not getting Superman, not something that I genuinely care about, and Sam seems to have more personal investment in his. And I dunno, if I did get it, I'd feel kinda shitty for denying him something he clearly cares about. And to top if off, again, he's got a great take.
That's the bad news.
The good news is, I've begun work on Plan C.....
Is it too late to swap Zatanna for Raven to fuck with you?
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AndyC Guardian of the Universe
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20 hrs ago
<Snipped quote by AndyC>
Is it too late to swap Zatanna for Raven to fuck with you?
Retired "Hayao Miyazaki"
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0-24 hrs ago
Though, if you are doing Raven... we should talk if we both get accepted.
EDIT: And I guess Hillan, too, since he's apparently doing magic things.
EDIT: And I guess Hillan, too, since he's apparently doing magic things.
Polyphemus They/ Them
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2 yrs ago
@BlackSam3091 It's great to see you! We had some good times in previous superhero roleplays.
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AndyC Guardian of the Universe
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Seen
20 hrs ago
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
S T A R F I R E / R A V E N
Princess Koriand’r/Rachel Roth ♦ Exiled Princess of Tamaran/Ex-Cultist and current Runaway ♦ Jump City, California, USA ♦ Independent
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"Evil beware, for we are here to lick your anuses!"
"....it’s ‘kick,’ not ‘lick,’ we’re here to kick their--.....you know what, never mind, AZARATH METREON ZINTHOS!!!!"
Rachel Roth has been surrounded by the occult since the day she was born. Her mother Arella, a second-generation hippie quick to buy into whatever new-wave feel-good movement could hold her attention, was barely eighteen when she was inducted into the Children of Azaroth, a spiritual-science order who claimed to be connected to astral beings on a higher plane of existence. There, she fell in love with a handsome young man by the name of Sebastian Blood, an eccentric multi-millionaire who seduced her and lured Arella into his mansion in the Hollywood hills. While Arella didn’t remember much of that night, she would have nightmares for years about the man she made love to actually being a hulking giant with eyes of fire.
Arella’s daughter Rachel was disillusioned with the Children of Azaroth almost immediately, especially while watching her mother’s mental health deteriorate. Despite this, she found herself enamored with occult literature and history, perhaps determined to find the ‘real’ magic that the amateurish cult had so clearly failed to produce. Mature before her age, she developed an ever-present cynicism and biting sarcasm, as well as nearly impenetrable emotional walls to resist the Children’s conditioning.
On her sixteenth birthday, Rachel received the greatest surprise of her life-- and nearly her last as well. Her supposed father Sebastian Blood had returned to the compound, showering her with gifts and throwing a magnificent party, before attempting to drug and murder the young girl in a ritualistic sacrifice. Much to the surprise of everyone in the room, a pitch-black shadow erupted from Rachel’s body and hurled the cultists aside like ragdolls. Confused and terrified, yet seeing the opportunity to escape, Rachel fled the cult for good. After hitchhiking north, she found her way to Jump City, where she currently works as an assistant at an old book store, half her meager wages paying for the dingy loft apartment above the shop.
Several million light years away, the lush and vibrant world of Tamaran had enjoyed sixteen cycles of prosperity and happiness under the rule of the just and mighty King Myand’r. His twin daughters were beloved by the common people, though the cheerful and bright Koriand’r was favored ever so slightly more than her sister Komand’r. This slight favoritism, barely perceptible to those not paying close attention, would eat at Komand’r all her life, a jealousy that would become a deadly resentment over the years. This was only made worse due to the fact that only one of them could inherit the role of the planet’s protector and champion, the Starfire.
This would come to a head when, during a training exercise with the legendary Warlords of Okaara, Komand’r staged an “accident” with the intent of killing Kory, but instead killed her betrothed, the beloved General Phy’zzon. Thinking quickly, Komand’r was able to cover her own crime as a failed assassination attempt by Tamaran’s eternal enemies, the dreaded Citadel. King Myand’r responded to this by declaring open war upon the Citadel, and the years of prosperity and joy gave way to terror and bloodshed.
Koriand’r inherited the role of Starfire after their father was slain fighting the Citadel’s shock troopers, and with the help of the Warlords of Okaara, led her people on multiple successful campaigns, much to Komand’r’s disdain. Just as Tamaran was on the cusp of victory, Komand’r stunned her people by betraying them, siding with the Citadel during a key battle for the sake of facing her hated sister in combat. Koriand’r held the upper hand in their battle, but could not bring herself to kill her own sister, a mercy that Komand’r exploited ruthlessly to defeat her. With Tamaran conquered and her sister in chains, Komand’r declared herself Queen Blackfire, a mockery of the title she had coveted for so long.
Koriand’r’s captivity would not last, however, as she soon fought her way free and stole away in a single-use jump pod as Citadel troops bore down on her. Desperate for somewhere safe, the ship’s navicomputer located a primitive backwater planet, whose inhabitants happen to look similar to Tamaranians by an absolutely staggering coincidence, and jumped away.
The power in Jump City has gone out. Rachel Roth has climbed up to the roof of her ratty apartment to see if she can read by moonlight. And what was a pinpoint of light in the night sky seems to be getting larger, and brighter, and closer…...
Arella’s daughter Rachel was disillusioned with the Children of Azaroth almost immediately, especially while watching her mother’s mental health deteriorate. Despite this, she found herself enamored with occult literature and history, perhaps determined to find the ‘real’ magic that the amateurish cult had so clearly failed to produce. Mature before her age, she developed an ever-present cynicism and biting sarcasm, as well as nearly impenetrable emotional walls to resist the Children’s conditioning.
On her sixteenth birthday, Rachel received the greatest surprise of her life-- and nearly her last as well. Her supposed father Sebastian Blood had returned to the compound, showering her with gifts and throwing a magnificent party, before attempting to drug and murder the young girl in a ritualistic sacrifice. Much to the surprise of everyone in the room, a pitch-black shadow erupted from Rachel’s body and hurled the cultists aside like ragdolls. Confused and terrified, yet seeing the opportunity to escape, Rachel fled the cult for good. After hitchhiking north, she found her way to Jump City, where she currently works as an assistant at an old book store, half her meager wages paying for the dingy loft apartment above the shop.
Several million light years away, the lush and vibrant world of Tamaran had enjoyed sixteen cycles of prosperity and happiness under the rule of the just and mighty King Myand’r. His twin daughters were beloved by the common people, though the cheerful and bright Koriand’r was favored ever so slightly more than her sister Komand’r. This slight favoritism, barely perceptible to those not paying close attention, would eat at Komand’r all her life, a jealousy that would become a deadly resentment over the years. This was only made worse due to the fact that only one of them could inherit the role of the planet’s protector and champion, the Starfire.
This would come to a head when, during a training exercise with the legendary Warlords of Okaara, Komand’r staged an “accident” with the intent of killing Kory, but instead killed her betrothed, the beloved General Phy’zzon. Thinking quickly, Komand’r was able to cover her own crime as a failed assassination attempt by Tamaran’s eternal enemies, the dreaded Citadel. King Myand’r responded to this by declaring open war upon the Citadel, and the years of prosperity and joy gave way to terror and bloodshed.
Koriand’r inherited the role of Starfire after their father was slain fighting the Citadel’s shock troopers, and with the help of the Warlords of Okaara, led her people on multiple successful campaigns, much to Komand’r’s disdain. Just as Tamaran was on the cusp of victory, Komand’r stunned her people by betraying them, siding with the Citadel during a key battle for the sake of facing her hated sister in combat. Koriand’r held the upper hand in their battle, but could not bring herself to kill her own sister, a mercy that Komand’r exploited ruthlessly to defeat her. With Tamaran conquered and her sister in chains, Komand’r declared herself Queen Blackfire, a mockery of the title she had coveted for so long.
Koriand’r’s captivity would not last, however, as she soon fought her way free and stole away in a single-use jump pod as Citadel troops bore down on her. Desperate for somewhere safe, the ship’s navicomputer located a primitive backwater planet, whose inhabitants happen to look similar to Tamaranians by an absolutely staggering coincidence, and jumped away.
The power in Jump City has gone out. Rachel Roth has climbed up to the roof of her ratty apartment to see if she can read by moonlight. And what was a pinpoint of light in the night sky seems to be getting larger, and brighter, and closer…...
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:
Raven and Starfire is a pairing that I firmly believe is one of DC’s biggest untapped gold mines. While they love playing up the whole “one’s bright and happy, the other is dark and dour” routine with Batman and Superman, and even went so far as to rewrite Poison Ivy’s entire personality just to do it again in the Harley Quinn cartoon, they have yet to do it with what IMO is one of the most obvious duos, from a cartoon that basically everyone loves.
While their origin stories do border on being Very Serious (™), I want Kory and Rachel to effectively be a superhero equivalent of a buddy-cop-movie or an Odd Couple sitcom. Just, instead of a by-the-book veteran and a loose-cannon rookie, or an uptight businessman and his slovenly roommate, it’s a bubbly alien space-princess and the literal actual Anti-christ. Lethal Weapon with space battles and spandex, Rush Hour with demons and teen-drama, or maybe Perfect Strangers with explosions and doomsday cults. It’s something I have wanted to write for ages, but always put off for the sake of chasing a bigger fish.
While their origin stories do border on being Very Serious (™), I want Kory and Rachel to effectively be a superhero equivalent of a buddy-cop-movie or an Odd Couple sitcom. Just, instead of a by-the-book veteran and a loose-cannon rookie, or an uptight businessman and his slovenly roommate, it’s a bubbly alien space-princess and the literal actual Anti-christ. Lethal Weapon with space battles and spandex, Rush Hour with demons and teen-drama, or maybe Perfect Strangers with explosions and doomsday cults. It’s something I have wanted to write for ages, but always put off for the sake of chasing a bigger fish.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
A smaller portion of the sprawling megalopolis that stretches from Los Angeles to Star City, Jump City is often overlooked as the most 'normal' city on the West Coast-- a haven for those not sleazy enough for LA, not crazy enough for San Francisco, and not pretentious enough to pack up and move north to Portland. It is somewhat significant as a technological hub, with a 'Little Tokyo' district home to the US branch of several electronics and video game developers, as well as for having a unique neon-decked aesthetic and a booming night life.
The Homeland Intervention and Vulnerability Explication Corporation was founded in the early 2000s as a private think-tank for unorthodox solutions to problems of global security. While on paper the company only serves nations that are part of NATO, many trails of funding lead back to the controversial government of Bialya, whose monarch has been accused of multiple human-rights violations. In recent years, HIVE has been accused of several disappearances, particularly of young people with unusual talents or exceptional abilities. These accusations, of course, have been flatly denied.
A radical cult whose members include high-profile people in the private and government sectors, the Brotherhood of Blood revels in unrestrained power, free from the constraints of 'common' morality. Their meetings are often little more than excuses to indulge in excessive bacchanalia, akin to the old 'Hellfire Clubs' of old England.
However, beyond this veil of high-society degeneracy lies a secretive inner circle, led by the multi-millionaire Sebastian Blood, one which is very serious in the worship of a hostile deity known as Trigon, believing that bringing about Trigon's arrival on Earth will grant them everlasting power in his infernal regime.
A conglomeration of smaller interstellar empires, the Citadel is an expansive military power which sustains itself by constant conquest. Boasting advanced technologies from dozens of worlds and hordes of soldiers from innumerable species, the ruling AI known roughly as 'Complex Complex' and its cadre of generals coordinate an everlasting war against any habitable world they find. While the bulk of the Citadel's forces is too far from Earth to launch an open invasion, it is not unlikely that agents will be sent on their behalf to recover Princess Koriand'r.
Koriandr's treacherous sister, Queen Komand'r is now the ruling despot of Tamaran, a role she barely has any interest in playing. While her people starve and suffer under the lash of the Citadel, Queen Blackfire sends countless deep-space probes into the stars, obsessed with finding her escaped sister, partly because her personal vendetta against Koriand'r remains unfulfilled, and partly because the knowledge that the Starfire of Tamaran is still out there inspires the people of her world to rebel against her rule. Until Kory is found and destroyed, Blackfire is Queen in name only, and her rule is as insecure as her ego.
S A M P L E P O S T:
"So, that's two hardbacks, three paperbacks, and a first edition," Rachel recounted in a disinterested monotone as the customer waited impatiently for her to punch everything into the cash register. "After tax, that comes out to fifty-two dollars and seventy-three cents."
The customer made a face, and attempted to haggle. "You sure that thing didn't make a mistake? Like, a glitch in the programming?"
Rachel gave him a deadpan glare, glanced down at the old analog register for a moment, then said, "You're right, sir, this completely non-digital machine must have had a hiccup in the software. If you'll give me a moment, I can call tech support and--"
"No, no, it's.....here you go," he said, producing three crumpled twenties from his wallet. "Y'know, learning a little customer service couldn't hurt."
"I provide the exact quality of service appropriate to the customer," she said, handing him his change. "Have a day."
Working at the House of Mystery, a gaudy title for what was in fact a dusty hole-in-the-wall bookstore, was far from the worst experience Rachel Roth could ask for. The walls were packed with old tomes and albums full of all sorts of interesting subjects: histories of long-lost civilizations, macabre biographies of infamous figures of folklore, encyclopedic catalogs of spirits and daemons, texts of everything from ancient Sumerian divination to the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, to folk religions like voodoo and santeria, to new-age paganism and chaos magic, even parlor tricks like sleight-of-hand and cold reading. Mr. Abel was a nice enough manager, though he was rarely around and left Rachel to tend the store by herself more often than not. Fine by her; more opportunities to get some reading in. The only problem was with the customers.
And of course, her new roommate.
"Friend Rachel," Kory said, drifting down the staircase, oblivious to the fact that she was floating nearly a foot off the ground and would have caused a panic if anyone else had seen it, "I am having the difficulty interfacing with this data-storage device."
Rachel glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "You mean that book?"
"Yes, this 'boook,'" she replied, mispronouncing the 'oo' sound. "While I see the data runes inscribed, I cannot activate them to call upon its internal AI construct and begin the holo-feed."
Rachel blinked in confusion, then shook her head.
"Internal AI--? No, Kory, you just," Rachel took the book out of Kory's hands and opened it. "You just read the 'data runes,' and that's how you get the information. There's no holograms or AI or anything."
"....but this is an account of romantic interest," Kory said, confused. "Without a holo-feed, how will I see the techniques employed?"
"Just....use your imagination. Your mind will picture everything for you."
Kory gave uncertain glances back and forth between Rachel and the book.
"...so I am to stare at symbols on a slice of dead vegetable matter," she tried to put the pieces together, "until I begin to hallucinate images and sounds? And that is how information is shared on this world?"
"....well, when you put it like that--"
"That is wonderous!" Kory exclaimed. "Voluntary hallucinogens without chemical stimulation? Never have I heard of such a thing! But what, then, are the side effects of exposure to the booooks?"
"....you get smarter?"
Kory's eyes went wide, like the first time she had ever seen a star going nova.
Before this could continue, outside the store, a siren blared, an engine roaring as a large red shape blurred past the shop window.
"What was the purpose of the noise-making vehicle?"
"Huh? Oh, that's a fire engine," Rachel shrugged. "They're just on their way to put out a fire somewhere down the block."
"A fire?!" Kory gasped. "Then the innocents are imperiled! We must be quick to act!"
Dropping the book, Kory stripped off her shirt and began undoing her pants.
"Kory! What are you doing?!
"I am exchanging my civilian garb for my proper battle regalia," she answered, a purple tube-top and skirt appearing over her body like magic. "How else will the innocents know that a champion protector is here to assist them?" With a gasp of realization, Kory grabbed at the tail of Rachel's shirt. "Quickly, you must change into your battle regalia as well!"
Rachel sputtered, and swatted Kory's hands away. "Hey, that's--knock it off, I don't have 'battle regalia!'"
Kory stopped, staring at Rachel as though she had said she eats rocks.
"That is not acceptable," Kory shook her head, then grabbed Rachel by the wrist. "Come, we will assist with the fighting of fires, and then we shall locate a member of your merchant caste who can procure proper regalia for you! There is little of the time to be wasting!"
The customer made a face, and attempted to haggle. "You sure that thing didn't make a mistake? Like, a glitch in the programming?"
Rachel gave him a deadpan glare, glanced down at the old analog register for a moment, then said, "You're right, sir, this completely non-digital machine must have had a hiccup in the software. If you'll give me a moment, I can call tech support and--"
"No, no, it's.....here you go," he said, producing three crumpled twenties from his wallet. "Y'know, learning a little customer service couldn't hurt."
"I provide the exact quality of service appropriate to the customer," she said, handing him his change. "Have a day."
Working at the House of Mystery, a gaudy title for what was in fact a dusty hole-in-the-wall bookstore, was far from the worst experience Rachel Roth could ask for. The walls were packed with old tomes and albums full of all sorts of interesting subjects: histories of long-lost civilizations, macabre biographies of infamous figures of folklore, encyclopedic catalogs of spirits and daemons, texts of everything from ancient Sumerian divination to the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, to folk religions like voodoo and santeria, to new-age paganism and chaos magic, even parlor tricks like sleight-of-hand and cold reading. Mr. Abel was a nice enough manager, though he was rarely around and left Rachel to tend the store by herself more often than not. Fine by her; more opportunities to get some reading in. The only problem was with the customers.
And of course, her new roommate.
"Friend Rachel," Kory said, drifting down the staircase, oblivious to the fact that she was floating nearly a foot off the ground and would have caused a panic if anyone else had seen it, "I am having the difficulty interfacing with this data-storage device."
Rachel glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "You mean that book?"
"Yes, this 'boook,'" she replied, mispronouncing the 'oo' sound. "While I see the data runes inscribed, I cannot activate them to call upon its internal AI construct and begin the holo-feed."
Rachel blinked in confusion, then shook her head.
"Internal AI--? No, Kory, you just," Rachel took the book out of Kory's hands and opened it. "You just read the 'data runes,' and that's how you get the information. There's no holograms or AI or anything."
"....but this is an account of romantic interest," Kory said, confused. "Without a holo-feed, how will I see the techniques employed?"
"Just....use your imagination. Your mind will picture everything for you."
Kory gave uncertain glances back and forth between Rachel and the book.
"...so I am to stare at symbols on a slice of dead vegetable matter," she tried to put the pieces together, "until I begin to hallucinate images and sounds? And that is how information is shared on this world?"
"....well, when you put it like that--"
"That is wonderous!" Kory exclaimed. "Voluntary hallucinogens without chemical stimulation? Never have I heard of such a thing! But what, then, are the side effects of exposure to the booooks?"
"....you get smarter?"
Kory's eyes went wide, like the first time she had ever seen a star going nova.
Before this could continue, outside the store, a siren blared, an engine roaring as a large red shape blurred past the shop window.
"What was the purpose of the noise-making vehicle?"
"Huh? Oh, that's a fire engine," Rachel shrugged. "They're just on their way to put out a fire somewhere down the block."
"A fire?!" Kory gasped. "Then the innocents are imperiled! We must be quick to act!"
Dropping the book, Kory stripped off her shirt and began undoing her pants.
"Kory! What are you doing?!
"I am exchanging my civilian garb for my proper battle regalia," she answered, a purple tube-top and skirt appearing over her body like magic. "How else will the innocents know that a champion protector is here to assist them?" With a gasp of realization, Kory grabbed at the tail of Rachel's shirt. "Quickly, you must change into your battle regalia as well!"
Rachel sputtered, and swatted Kory's hands away. "Hey, that's--knock it off, I don't have 'battle regalia!'"
Kory stopped, staring at Rachel as though she had said she eats rocks.
"That is not acceptable," Kory shook her head, then grabbed Rachel by the wrist. "Come, we will assist with the fighting of fires, and then we shall locate a member of your merchant caste who can procure proper regalia for you! There is little of the time to be wasting!"
P O S T C A T A L O G:
A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed arcs and stories.
rocketrobie2 Money owns this town
Member
Seen
7 days ago
Sample posts in for OMAC so he's all ready for the councils verdict.
Mao Mao Sheriff of Pure Hearts (They/Them)
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
Well, after a day of thinking hard about it, I have decided to give it another shot. Hopefully, it works. Time for Plan B!
SON OF ZOD
"When I was young, my parents told me to hide my 'gift from God.' If it's truly a gift, he has a sick sense of humor."
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
Hernan Guerra was different. His mother and father knew something that he didn't about him. So, one day he asked them about his childhood. At first, his parents tried their best to provide a satisfying answer. But it wasn't enough. Then, he went to his sister for answers, but she clearly lying to him (badly). Frustrated, Hernan confronted his parents again and demanded an explanation. His father tried to calm him and it made things worst instead. In a fit of rage, Hernan stomped hard enough to leave a crater beneath him. It was also when he noticed that he was floating above the ground. He was scared.
Until his parents managed to calm him down. That was the first time that Hernan demonstrated a super-powered ability and it wasn't the last. Knowing that the lying was going to only hurt now, his parents told him of everything (with his sister present). It was on the night of their journey to the United States for a better opportunity. They saw something blight from the sky and hid behind some rocks, assuming it was the Border Patrol. Instead, it was something that crashed in front of them. Both of them investigated and discovered it was a rocket, containing Hernan inside. Before they could react, the authorities were making their way towards the scene. They took him and escaped before they were caught.
After being told the truth, Hernan was relieved and disturbed at the same time. And all he could do was hug his adopted parents.
As Hernan developed more strange abilities, his parents pressured him to hide them. He argued with them for a while before going behind their backs. It started with blowing away the chemicals from the crop dusters. Then, it got bolder. Completing the harvest on his own in one night once in a while. Eventually, he was caught. It happened during lunch at his high school. One of the racists was bullying Hernan, trying to egg him on. Of course, he did his best to avoid it. Until his sister got targeted and shoved to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the bully was on the ground with a broken arm. He tried to help his sister up, but everyone saw what happened. And it was so much that he ran home and hid for several hours.
His mother found him and comforted him as the authorities arrived at their home. Both of his parents were taken away by ICE, leaving him and his sister alone. Hernan wanted to save them, but his sister begged him to stay afraid that something could happen to him. So he did and it broke him. He remained on the farm until the guilt was too much to bear. Hernan left to find purpose in his life without saying anything to his sister. And with two years passed by, he watched as the American Dream was falling apart happily. Then, he heard about the latest ICE raids in the area that resulted in dozens detained, awaiting deportation.
That was when Hernan knew what he had to do.
Until his parents managed to calm him down. That was the first time that Hernan demonstrated a super-powered ability and it wasn't the last. Knowing that the lying was going to only hurt now, his parents told him of everything (with his sister present). It was on the night of their journey to the United States for a better opportunity. They saw something blight from the sky and hid behind some rocks, assuming it was the Border Patrol. Instead, it was something that crashed in front of them. Both of them investigated and discovered it was a rocket, containing Hernan inside. Before they could react, the authorities were making their way towards the scene. They took him and escaped before they were caught.
After being told the truth, Hernan was relieved and disturbed at the same time. And all he could do was hug his adopted parents.
As Hernan developed more strange abilities, his parents pressured him to hide them. He argued with them for a while before going behind their backs. It started with blowing away the chemicals from the crop dusters. Then, it got bolder. Completing the harvest on his own in one night once in a while. Eventually, he was caught. It happened during lunch at his high school. One of the racists was bullying Hernan, trying to egg him on. Of course, he did his best to avoid it. Until his sister got targeted and shoved to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the bully was on the ground with a broken arm. He tried to help his sister up, but everyone saw what happened. And it was so much that he ran home and hid for several hours.
His mother found him and comforted him as the authorities arrived at their home. Both of his parents were taken away by ICE, leaving him and his sister alone. Hernan wanted to save them, but his sister begged him to stay afraid that something could happen to him. So he did and it broke him. He remained on the farm until the guilt was too much to bear. Hernan left to find purpose in his life without saying anything to his sister. And with two years passed by, he watched as the American Dream was falling apart happily. Then, he heard about the latest ICE raids in the area that resulted in dozens detained, awaiting deportation.
That was when Hernan knew what he had to do.
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:
He's the backup character. On a serious note, I want to be able to vent in the midst of a global pandemic and a historical movement. I am in a household where it isn't the best so I can't talk to them about it. And besides writing in my journal, this is the best thing to do. In terms of Hernan, he doesn't know about his true family nor that his father was General Zod. And I don't have plans on clashing with Superman anytime soon (unless Wraith wants that to happen, idk). This season will deal with him, trying to become a hero (well, a hero that goes and happily stands against the American government).
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
S A M P L E P O S T:
BATMAN
Archie Goodwin International Airport
0.00 // A Bitter Sweet Reunion
Six years ago, Bruce Wayne bid farewell to his friends and family before departing his hometown to see the world. To find himself away from the place that changed his life forever. In secret, he spent those years learning everything required to uphold his promise. Boxing with the world-famous Wildcat in Boston, acrobatics at a circus in Cologne, intimidation and interrogation from former Spetsnaz agents at Norilsk, and plenty of other useful skills learned across the world. It wasn't cheap nor painless, but he appreciated every single one of his teachers. There was more to learn, but the life-changing experience in the caves of New Mexico opened his eyes to something possible.
Upon setting foot on the epoxy flooring of the lavish airport, Wayne saw how much it had changed since he left it years ago. It got an expensive makeover along with a new terminal facility and runway thanks to donations from infamous Carmine Falcone. Almost everyone knew that he was Don of the Falcone Crime Family, but it was clear that the politicians and police were in his pocket. Wayne approached a massive fountain, inspired by the Fontana del Tritone in Rome, and read the plaque:
Wayne reached into his pocket, pulled out a quarter, and flicked it at the fountain. Then, he made his way outside and saw Gotham's skyline for the first time in years. There were several skyscrapers still unfinished in various stages of completion, just like it was years ago. Mayor Hill and the city council talked about having Gotham City's skyline rival Metropolis' or even New York City's. Of course, it was all nonsense because the project cost billions. But, it seemed that the same family is helping to make that dream a reality (along with a few other wealthy families and individuals). Even with the touch-up, it was meant to cover up the city's ugly truth.
And all someone had to do was drive beyond the tourist attractions.
"Did you say Park Row?" the taxi driver asked Wayne.
"Yeah... The Community Clinic." Wayne answered while watching the driver's reaction through the rearview mirror. It was clear that he was nervous and scared about traveling there. Nevertheless, the driver didn't say anything and kept on driving. There was reason to fear Park Row that Wayne couldn't even dismiss. It was filled with criminals and became a hotbed of crimes ranging from robbery to murder. The clinic was always filled with patients that sought aid and safety without judgment. It was one of the few remaining reminders of its past before... that night.
The taxi driver stopped in front of the clinic and unlocked only Wayne's door. He exited out of the cab and went to pay the driver. Wayne tried to thank the driver, but he already sped off. He didn't blame the driver for wanting to leave. After all, he was terrified of going to Park Row and being robbed at knifepoint. The truth was that nobody was going to bother robbing a tax driver, but the lie was still being spread by the police, politicians, and the media. Interested in seeing his surrogate family, Wayne made his way inside the clinic.
Once inside, Wayne noticed the people waiting for their names to be called. It wasn't crowded as usual on a weekday, which was either a good or bad sign. Immediately, a familiar voice called out his name. "Bruce?!"
It was Marva Cooper still working at the garage based on the grease stains on her overalls. She gave him a tight hug before asking, "What the hell are you doing back?!"
"Got tired of exploring the world." Wayne answered sarcastically and then noticed that she was at the clinic. "What are you doing here?"
"Just waiting for my dad to finish up with his appointment. Nothing serious, just a routine checkup ordered by Leslie herself." Cooper sat back down and waited for Wayne to sit next to her. She noticed that he had something on his mind and decided to say something. "Hey, are you alright?"
"I... Actually, I have a favor to ask you and your father."
"Yeah, what is-" Before she could finish, the door opened for Earl Cooper as he was walking out with Dr. Leslie Thompkins behind him. They were in the middle of talking when Thompkins noticed Wayne, sitting there. She didn't believe it at first. But, it was a huge relief to know that he was alive after not writing back for a few weeks. Bruce got up and hugged her before she could've started crying her eyes out. Earl, meanwhile, walked over to his daughter and placed his hand on her shoulder. Both of them watched Wayne and Thompkins having a touching reunion.
Upon setting foot on the epoxy flooring of the lavish airport, Wayne saw how much it had changed since he left it years ago. It got an expensive makeover along with a new terminal facility and runway thanks to donations from infamous Carmine Falcone. Almost everyone knew that he was Don of the Falcone Crime Family, but it was clear that the politicians and police were in his pocket. Wayne approached a massive fountain, inspired by the Fontana del Tritone in Rome, and read the plaque:
THE FOUNTAIN OF GOTHAM
Donated by the Falcone Family in honor of Gotham City's rich history.
Any coins generously thrown will go support Gotham General Hospital.
Donated by the Falcone Family in honor of Gotham City's rich history.
Any coins generously thrown will go support Gotham General Hospital.
Wayne reached into his pocket, pulled out a quarter, and flicked it at the fountain. Then, he made his way outside and saw Gotham's skyline for the first time in years. There were several skyscrapers still unfinished in various stages of completion, just like it was years ago. Mayor Hill and the city council talked about having Gotham City's skyline rival Metropolis' or even New York City's. Of course, it was all nonsense because the project cost billions. But, it seemed that the same family is helping to make that dream a reality (along with a few other wealthy families and individuals). Even with the touch-up, it was meant to cover up the city's ugly truth.
And all someone had to do was drive beyond the tourist attractions.
"Did you say Park Row?" the taxi driver asked Wayne.
"Yeah... The Community Clinic." Wayne answered while watching the driver's reaction through the rearview mirror. It was clear that he was nervous and scared about traveling there. Nevertheless, the driver didn't say anything and kept on driving. There was reason to fear Park Row that Wayne couldn't even dismiss. It was filled with criminals and became a hotbed of crimes ranging from robbery to murder. The clinic was always filled with patients that sought aid and safety without judgment. It was one of the few remaining reminders of its past before... that night.
The taxi driver stopped in front of the clinic and unlocked only Wayne's door. He exited out of the cab and went to pay the driver. Wayne tried to thank the driver, but he already sped off. He didn't blame the driver for wanting to leave. After all, he was terrified of going to Park Row and being robbed at knifepoint. The truth was that nobody was going to bother robbing a tax driver, but the lie was still being spread by the police, politicians, and the media. Interested in seeing his surrogate family, Wayne made his way inside the clinic.
Once inside, Wayne noticed the people waiting for their names to be called. It wasn't crowded as usual on a weekday, which was either a good or bad sign. Immediately, a familiar voice called out his name. "Bruce?!"
It was Marva Cooper still working at the garage based on the grease stains on her overalls. She gave him a tight hug before asking, "What the hell are you doing back?!"
"Got tired of exploring the world." Wayne answered sarcastically and then noticed that she was at the clinic. "What are you doing here?"
"Just waiting for my dad to finish up with his appointment. Nothing serious, just a routine checkup ordered by Leslie herself." Cooper sat back down and waited for Wayne to sit next to her. She noticed that he had something on his mind and decided to say something. "Hey, are you alright?"
"I... Actually, I have a favor to ask you and your father."
"Yeah, what is-" Before she could finish, the door opened for Earl Cooper as he was walking out with Dr. Leslie Thompkins behind him. They were in the middle of talking when Thompkins noticed Wayne, sitting there. She didn't believe it at first. But, it was a huge relief to know that he was alive after not writing back for a few weeks. Bruce got up and hugged her before she could've started crying her eyes out. Earl, meanwhile, walked over to his daughter and placed his hand on her shoulder. Both of them watched Wayne and Thompkins having a touching reunion.
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@Kaggs as Space (?) Cabbie, @HenryJonesJr as Blue Beetle, and @Polyphemus as Crimson Avenger are all APPROVED!
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Still have to churn out a sample post... but I figured I couldn't let Andy have all the fun when it came to power duos.
"How do you do it? How do you just live like this?"
Sitting across the table from the speaker was a red-headed, lean man in a sleeveless red mechanic's vest. He had on a simple baseball cap with an American flag emblazoned across the front of it, and blue jeans that were ripped and worn around the knees. He was currently in the midst of devouring a triple bacon cheeseburger, juices and sauces dripping down his chin and onto the plate below. Roy Harper set the burger down for a moment, chewing the giant bite of food that he took as he grabbed a napkin from the dispenser on the side of the table to wipe the liquids off his mouth before responding. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Jason Todd sighed. He felt out of place in a run-down bar in some basically no-name town in Texas. He was wearing a designer black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up and black slacks. His hair was carefully constructed and gelled to look somewhat messy. As Roy answered, Jason leaned back in his seat. "How do you not want to get back into the action? You were the best sharpshooter in the business. If you made a call, you could be back in Team 7 in a heartbeat."
Roy plucked another napkin to begin wiping away the sauces on his fingers as he gave a sly smile. "I did my time. Followed orders, had some fun. But you know... I never really saw this country. Traveled around it for competitions, but was never allowed to actually see anything. I've never been to the Alamo, or the Empire State Building. And neither was my dad."
That last word hung in the air for a moment. Despite the distance from his death, that fact still stung Roy. As for Jason, it made him stop in his tracks and rethink what exactly he was asking his former coworker to do for him. And as the two men sat in silence, another sound from outside the bar cut through the awkward silence.
The two men watched the scene unfolding outside. There, a few men with pick-up trucks that were proudly flying the confederate flag pulled up into the parking lot just as a black man in a t-shirt and jeans was walking towards the bar. The confederate-supporters got out of their pick-up and started surrounding the guy, blocking his path to getting into the bar. Jason's eyes narrowed as he watched one of the large men start shoving the victim of their hate.
Jason turned his gaze back to Roy, who was watching his dinner companion with concern.
"I need to use the bathroom."
"Don't."
"Don't what? I need to take a piss."
Roy simply shook his head as Jason stood up from the small two-person table and made his way towards the back of the restaurant. He went into the back of the bar, finding the small closet that was marked as the men's restroom. As soon as he entered and locked the door, Jason looked up towards the ceiling for window near the top of the bathroom. He went to try and lift open the very wide and simple window, only to find it to be a bit stuck. The former spy sighed as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small utility knife. He flicked it open and ran it along the bottom of the window, removing a layer of grime and filth that was keeping the window a bit stuck down. With another attempt, the window was able to swing out. Jason then sighed and quickly jumped up into the air, using his momentum and strength to kick from one wall to the other and then up towards the window sill. He slid himself out from the window and landed behind the bar.
As Jason circled around the side of the bar, he could hear the situation had escalated. He could hear a cry for help as there was grunting and the sound of kicking and groaning. So Jason rushed around the side of the building, his fists clenched and at the ready. As he rounded the corner, about five men were gathered around their victim. They were kicking him in the head, chest, back, and legs. One of them, the one stomping down on the guy's legs trying to break them, shouted out, "Get back on to your ghetto now, boy! This place ain't for your kind."
Jason could feel the rage boiling inside him as he began rushing forward around the corner of the bar. With each kick and hit, he remembered the sensations coursing through his chest, his arms, and his skull. He almost thought the painful sensation in his hand was just a sensory memory until Jason was brought back to reality at the sound of a different voice yelping in pain. One of the racists was clutching the side of his ear as he fell down to the ground over the bloody mess of his victim, and was trying to scramble back onto his feet as his compatriots stared in shock.
The next moments were a blur of adrenaline and pure instinct. When one came in on his right with a right hook, Jason stepped back and provided a small redirecting shove to have the man clock one of his friends in the face. Another came forward trying to tackle the former spy to the ground, but Jason simply stepped to the side and provided a quick kick to the man's knee. The sound of the crunch was satisfying as the Team 7 operator decided to go on the attack in delivering a quick strike to the man he had first attacked in the neck by the time he got to his feet, leaving him choking for air.
While caught up in the chaos of the hand to hand combat, Jason was surprised and petrified with fear as he saw the two other assailants has run back to their trucks and were loading up their shotguns with appropriate shells. He had only a moment to duck back behind another car in the parking lot before the shotguns began firing off in his directions, followed by whooping and hollering. That is, until Jason heard something he wasn't expecting. He heard screams of pain coming from where the two men were firing. As Jason peered around the hood, he saw that the men had been struck by arrows in their shoulders. It didn't take long for Jason to put two and two together, especially when his marksman friend stepped out from around the other corner of the bar holding his bow with an arrow nocked and drawn. Roy turned his gaze towards Jason for a moment and nodded for him to make his way over. The vigilante did so, and began running towards the archer. Without so much as a word, Jason and Roy fled to a beaten up red van and got in. The latter threw van into drive and spun out onto the empty evening road, taking off from the scene of their crime.
Without sharing a single word, the two men knew what they had just done. And they knew that it wouldn't take long before the police were called and the authorities were looking for them.
As far as they were concerned, Jason Todd and Roy Harper were now Outlaws.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
R E D H O O D / A R S E N A L
Jason Todd/Roy Harper ♦ Former CIA and Team 7 Secret Agent/Former Army Ranger and Team 7 Marksman ♦ Texas, USA ♦ Outlaws
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"You know... they really left us hanging there."
"If we weren't hanging upside down right now, I would punch you."
What if you removed the mentors from two incredibly flawed former sidekick characters and had them team up and go around the country fighting crime? Well, you would get this take on the Outlaws that I've whipped up. A huge part of Jason Todd's arc as the Red Hood has always been rooted in revenge and pain. Beaten within an inch of his life and managing to survive, Jason takes on a new mantle and enacts bloody revenge on criminals. Roy Harper, on the other hand, is a grounding and inherently funny character. He's always trying to prove that he's a hero despite his past actions and his very, very serious character flaws. These two characters have had their own comics run as a duo, and they work well in the setting of a world much like our own. One in which a country is torn, divided, and in need of unconventional heroes.
Jason Todd, in this iteration, was a CIA operative. He was a poor orphan from the streets of Gotham who wanted to make something of himself... so he took every opportunity he could to become someone. He started out doing simple intelligence gathering when he was recruited by the CIA, learning the arts of infiltration and close quarters combat. His skillset saw him recruited by the elusive group known as Team 7, a U.S. Black Ops team tasked with keeping the world "safe" from all threats. He's been with Team 7 until a fateful event six months ago while infiltrating the League of Assassins (where he had further honed his skills). He was sold out by a member of the League, and taken to a warehouse in Vlatava. There, he was beaten with a crowbar within an inch of his life by an unknown assailant wearing a red hoodie and a simple black mask. He was left for dead, with a simple message: Vertigo sends their regards. Since then, he was discharged from service in Team 7 after psych evaluations have found him to be too vengeful and unstable for active service.
Roy Harper's past is a lot simpler. He was a kid who, from a very young age, had impeccable aim. He learned of his skills in handling a rifle and a bow and arrow at a young age at a Boy Scout camp in rural Oklahoma. He was so good, in fact, that he started to compete in local competitions. Hell, he even became a small legend in the circle of competitive archery, even being slated to compete in the 2012 Olympic Games on behalf of the USA. Unfortunately, his life took him in a different direction when drug tests outed that he was a heroin addict. He lost all respect within the archery community and barely managed to graduate high school as he was sent out to rehab. His life changed when he got clean and met an Army recruiter by happenstance at a bar. It would give Roy exactly what he had always wanted: purpose. He proved himself to be, once again, and amazing marksman. So amazing that he rose through the ranks quickly, before being picked up by Team 7. He served as a designated Marksman for the Team on dangerous assignments, and met Jason Todd through Team 7. About a year ago, though, Roy resigned from his position to take care of his ailing father, who ended up passing only months ago. Since then, Roy has decided to make it his mission to see the country that he fought and bled for. His mission was interrupted when he saw a very familiar face walk into some rundown bar in some barely known one road town in rural Texas.
Jason Todd, in this iteration, was a CIA operative. He was a poor orphan from the streets of Gotham who wanted to make something of himself... so he took every opportunity he could to become someone. He started out doing simple intelligence gathering when he was recruited by the CIA, learning the arts of infiltration and close quarters combat. His skillset saw him recruited by the elusive group known as Team 7, a U.S. Black Ops team tasked with keeping the world "safe" from all threats. He's been with Team 7 until a fateful event six months ago while infiltrating the League of Assassins (where he had further honed his skills). He was sold out by a member of the League, and taken to a warehouse in Vlatava. There, he was beaten with a crowbar within an inch of his life by an unknown assailant wearing a red hoodie and a simple black mask. He was left for dead, with a simple message: Vertigo sends their regards. Since then, he was discharged from service in Team 7 after psych evaluations have found him to be too vengeful and unstable for active service.
Roy Harper's past is a lot simpler. He was a kid who, from a very young age, had impeccable aim. He learned of his skills in handling a rifle and a bow and arrow at a young age at a Boy Scout camp in rural Oklahoma. He was so good, in fact, that he started to compete in local competitions. Hell, he even became a small legend in the circle of competitive archery, even being slated to compete in the 2012 Olympic Games on behalf of the USA. Unfortunately, his life took him in a different direction when drug tests outed that he was a heroin addict. He lost all respect within the archery community and barely managed to graduate high school as he was sent out to rehab. His life changed when he got clean and met an Army recruiter by happenstance at a bar. It would give Roy exactly what he had always wanted: purpose. He proved himself to be, once again, and amazing marksman. So amazing that he rose through the ranks quickly, before being picked up by Team 7. He served as a designated Marksman for the Team on dangerous assignments, and met Jason Todd through Team 7. About a year ago, though, Roy resigned from his position to take care of his ailing father, who ended up passing only months ago. Since then, Roy has decided to make it his mission to see the country that he fought and bled for. His mission was interrupted when he saw a very familiar face walk into some rundown bar in some barely known one road town in rural Texas.
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:
Jason and Roy have one thing in common: they believe deeply in protecting other people. Jason Todd wants answers as to who exactly beat him within an inch of his life, but more importantly wants to find a new purpose. When he reconnects with Roy in a bar and ends up fighting off some men associated with the Aryan Nation, Jason finds a new purpose: removing those racist scum from the face of the Earth. His deeper motivation, though, is an outlet for the anger and rage that is pent up inside as a result of both his injury and his commanding officers' lack of investigation into the matter.
Roy's motivation shifts very quickly within this story. He starts just wanting to see the nation he fought for, since he never really got to actually travel and just see the country for what it was. The problem is that the nation Roy stumbles upon isn't the ideal that he fought for. So, Roy has to pick up his bow once again to fight for a future and the ideal that he had fought for once again: a land of the free, where every man is born equal.
Roy's motivation shifts very quickly within this story. He starts just wanting to see the nation he fought for, since he never really got to actually travel and just see the country for what it was. The problem is that the nation Roy stumbles upon isn't the ideal that he fought for. So, Roy has to pick up his bow once again to fight for a future and the ideal that he had fought for once again: a land of the free, where every man is born equal.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
John Lynch: The former leader of Team 7, John Lynch is secretly a telekinetic metahuman. He is a cold and calculating man, and there's more to him than meets the eye.
Slade Wilson: One of the most experienced and toughest soldiers in Team 7, Slade has always been in it for one thing: the glory of combat. However, following his son Jericho falling terminally sick, Slade has been trying to find new ways to make money to save his dying son. Who knows where this has led him...
James Bronson: A hero through and through, James Bronson was an intelligence operator for Team 7 who, following Jason and Roy's escapades, will be tasked with bringing in the two men to answer for their crimes.
Slade Wilson: One of the most experienced and toughest soldiers in Team 7, Slade has always been in it for one thing: the glory of combat. However, following his son Jericho falling terminally sick, Slade has been trying to find new ways to make money to save his dying son. Who knows where this has led him...
James Bronson: A hero through and through, James Bronson was an intelligence operator for Team 7 who, following Jason and Roy's escapades, will be tasked with bringing in the two men to answer for their crimes.
White Dragon: The leader of the Aryan Brigade as a whole, and secretly a vigilante in Dallas, Texas that targets minorities in particular, William Heller is a highly trained soldier with money lining his pockets. He has taken on the title of "White Dragon" as the head of the Aryan Nation, and uses his money and influence to influence police departments and get his hands on experimental technology to aid in his plan for the extermination of "inferior races." He has even gathered white supremacist metahumans together and spun the press into calling them the "Knights Templar."
Bloodsport:Alex Trent is a highly trained former soldier and known racist, Alex has taken on the codename Bloodsport and led the militarization of the Aryan Brigade branch of the Aryan Nation into an army willing to fight for White Supremacy.
Heatmonger: One of the Aryan Brigade's militant operatives, Heatmonger is a blonde haired woman with experimental flamethrower gauntlets courtesy of one William Heller. She is a member of the "Knights Templar."
Backlash: A metahuman with the ability to elongate his arms and manipulate them to form squid-like tendrils. He is a member of the Knights Templar.
Iron Cross: A metahuman with super strength who serves in the Knights Templar.
Golden Eagle: The only non-metahuman among the Knights Templar, Golden Eagle is a former U.S. Marine turned "vigilante."
Blind Faith: She is not a direct member of the Knights Templar, but is always around when they operate publicly. She has telepathy, and uses her abilities to force people of color to admit to crimes openly that they have never committed.
Bloodsport:Alex Trent is a highly trained former soldier and known racist, Alex has taken on the codename Bloodsport and led the militarization of the Aryan Brigade branch of the Aryan Nation into an army willing to fight for White Supremacy.
Heatmonger: One of the Aryan Brigade's militant operatives, Heatmonger is a blonde haired woman with experimental flamethrower gauntlets courtesy of one William Heller. She is a member of the "Knights Templar."
Backlash: A metahuman with the ability to elongate his arms and manipulate them to form squid-like tendrils. He is a member of the Knights Templar.
Iron Cross: A metahuman with super strength who serves in the Knights Templar.
Golden Eagle: The only non-metahuman among the Knights Templar, Golden Eagle is a former U.S. Marine turned "vigilante."
Blind Faith: She is not a direct member of the Knights Templar, but is always around when they operate publicly. She has telepathy, and uses her abilities to force people of color to admit to crimes openly that they have never committed.
Chesire: Jade Nguyen is a member of the League of Assassins, and has been tasked with tracking down Jason Todd and making him answer to the League for his infiltration and "stealing" of trade secrets. By her own right, Jade Nguyen is an incredibly skilled assassin and a brilliant toxicologist. She has killed many of her victims by use of poisons and toxins.
Count Vertigo: Werner Zytle was a brilliant chemist and a member of the Vlatavan royal family... before all of his family was executed publicly in a bloody militaristic coup four years ago. The former Count was nearly killed himself by a sniper bullet after his new steward (Jason Todd in disguise) tricked him into getting in position. Since then, Werner Zytle has taken on an alias (Cecil Adams) and has started up a new crime syndicate called Vertigo. Werner has been cooking up powerful new drugs that have been hitting the streets and using the money he's been gathering to build up his organization until it's strong enough to take back his country... but not before he gets revenge on the people who killed him.
Count Vertigo: Werner Zytle was a brilliant chemist and a member of the Vlatavan royal family... before all of his family was executed publicly in a bloody militaristic coup four years ago. The former Count was nearly killed himself by a sniper bullet after his new steward (Jason Todd in disguise) tricked him into getting in position. Since then, Werner Zytle has taken on an alias (Cecil Adams) and has started up a new crime syndicate called Vertigo. Werner has been cooking up powerful new drugs that have been hitting the streets and using the money he's been gathering to build up his organization until it's strong enough to take back his country... but not before he gets revenge on the people who killed him.
S A M P L E P O S T:
Some Shithole, Texas, USA - Present Day
Issue 1.01.01: Taste of Violence
Interaction(s): None
Previously: None
"How do you do it? How do you just live like this?"
Sitting across the table from the speaker was a red-headed, lean man in a sleeveless red mechanic's vest. He had on a simple baseball cap with an American flag emblazoned across the front of it, and blue jeans that were ripped and worn around the knees. He was currently in the midst of devouring a triple bacon cheeseburger, juices and sauces dripping down his chin and onto the plate below. Roy Harper set the burger down for a moment, chewing the giant bite of food that he took as he grabbed a napkin from the dispenser on the side of the table to wipe the liquids off his mouth before responding. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Jason Todd sighed. He felt out of place in a run-down bar in some basically no-name town in Texas. He was wearing a designer black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up and black slacks. His hair was carefully constructed and gelled to look somewhat messy. As Roy answered, Jason leaned back in his seat. "How do you not want to get back into the action? You were the best sharpshooter in the business. If you made a call, you could be back in Team 7 in a heartbeat."
Roy plucked another napkin to begin wiping away the sauces on his fingers as he gave a sly smile. "I did my time. Followed orders, had some fun. But you know... I never really saw this country. Traveled around it for competitions, but was never allowed to actually see anything. I've never been to the Alamo, or the Empire State Building. And neither was my dad."
That last word hung in the air for a moment. Despite the distance from his death, that fact still stung Roy. As for Jason, it made him stop in his tracks and rethink what exactly he was asking his former coworker to do for him. And as the two men sat in silence, another sound from outside the bar cut through the awkward silence.
The two men watched the scene unfolding outside. There, a few men with pick-up trucks that were proudly flying the confederate flag pulled up into the parking lot just as a black man in a t-shirt and jeans was walking towards the bar. The confederate-supporters got out of their pick-up and started surrounding the guy, blocking his path to getting into the bar. Jason's eyes narrowed as he watched one of the large men start shoving the victim of their hate.
Jason turned his gaze back to Roy, who was watching his dinner companion with concern.
"I need to use the bathroom."
"Don't."
"Don't what? I need to take a piss."
Roy simply shook his head as Jason stood up from the small two-person table and made his way towards the back of the restaurant. He went into the back of the bar, finding the small closet that was marked as the men's restroom. As soon as he entered and locked the door, Jason looked up towards the ceiling for window near the top of the bathroom. He went to try and lift open the very wide and simple window, only to find it to be a bit stuck. The former spy sighed as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small utility knife. He flicked it open and ran it along the bottom of the window, removing a layer of grime and filth that was keeping the window a bit stuck down. With another attempt, the window was able to swing out. Jason then sighed and quickly jumped up into the air, using his momentum and strength to kick from one wall to the other and then up towards the window sill. He slid himself out from the window and landed behind the bar.
As Jason circled around the side of the bar, he could hear the situation had escalated. He could hear a cry for help as there was grunting and the sound of kicking and groaning. So Jason rushed around the side of the building, his fists clenched and at the ready. As he rounded the corner, about five men were gathered around their victim. They were kicking him in the head, chest, back, and legs. One of them, the one stomping down on the guy's legs trying to break them, shouted out, "Get back on to your ghetto now, boy! This place ain't for your kind."
Jason could feel the rage boiling inside him as he began rushing forward around the corner of the bar. With each kick and hit, he remembered the sensations coursing through his chest, his arms, and his skull. He almost thought the painful sensation in his hand was just a sensory memory until Jason was brought back to reality at the sound of a different voice yelping in pain. One of the racists was clutching the side of his ear as he fell down to the ground over the bloody mess of his victim, and was trying to scramble back onto his feet as his compatriots stared in shock.
The next moments were a blur of adrenaline and pure instinct. When one came in on his right with a right hook, Jason stepped back and provided a small redirecting shove to have the man clock one of his friends in the face. Another came forward trying to tackle the former spy to the ground, but Jason simply stepped to the side and provided a quick kick to the man's knee. The sound of the crunch was satisfying as the Team 7 operator decided to go on the attack in delivering a quick strike to the man he had first attacked in the neck by the time he got to his feet, leaving him choking for air.
While caught up in the chaos of the hand to hand combat, Jason was surprised and petrified with fear as he saw the two other assailants has run back to their trucks and were loading up their shotguns with appropriate shells. He had only a moment to duck back behind another car in the parking lot before the shotguns began firing off in his directions, followed by whooping and hollering. That is, until Jason heard something he wasn't expecting. He heard screams of pain coming from where the two men were firing. As Jason peered around the hood, he saw that the men had been struck by arrows in their shoulders. It didn't take long for Jason to put two and two together, especially when his marksman friend stepped out from around the other corner of the bar holding his bow with an arrow nocked and drawn. Roy turned his gaze towards Jason for a moment and nodded for him to make his way over. The vigilante did so, and began running towards the archer. Without so much as a word, Jason and Roy fled to a beaten up red van and got in. The latter threw van into drive and spun out onto the empty evening road, taking off from the scene of their crime.
Without sharing a single word, the two men knew what they had just done. And they knew that it wouldn't take long before the police were called and the authorities were looking for them.
As far as they were concerned, Jason Todd and Roy Harper were now Outlaws.
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A LR E D H O O D / A R S E N A LJason Todd/Roy Harper ♦ Former CIA and Team 7 Secret Agent/Former Army Ranger and Team 7 Marksman ♦ Texas, USA ♦ OutlawsC H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:"You know... they really left us hanging there.""If we weren't hanging upside down right now, I would punch you."What if you removed the mentors from two incredibly flawed former sidekick characters and had them team up and go around the country fighting crime? Well, you would get this take on the Outlaws that I've whipped up. A huge part of Jason Todd's arc as the Red Hood has always been rooted in revenge and pain. Beaten within an inch of his life and managing to survive, Jason takes on a new mantle and enacts bloody revenge on criminals. Roy Harper, on the other hand, is a grounding and inherently funny character. He's always trying to prove that he's a hero despite his past actions and his very, very serious character flaws. These two characters have had their own comics run as a duo, and they work well in the setting of a world much like our own. One in which a country is torn, divided, and in need of unconventional heroes.
Jason Todd, in this iteration, was a CIA operative. He was a poor orphan from the streets of Gotham who wanted to make something of himself... so he took every opportunity he could to become someone. He started out doing simple intelligence gathering when he was recruited by the CIA, learning the arts of infiltration and close quarters combat. His skillset saw him recruited by the elusive group known as Team 7, a U.S. Black Ops team tasked with keeping the world "safe" from all threats. He's been with Team 7 until a fateful event six months ago while infiltrating the League of Assassins (where he had further honed his skills). He was sold out by a member of the League, and taken to a warehouse in Vlatava. There, he was beaten with a crowbar within an inch of his life by an unknown assailant wearing a red hoodie and a simple black mask. He was left for dead, with a simple message: Vertigo sends their regards. Since then, he was discharged from service in Team 7 after psych evaluations have found him to be too vengeful and unstable for active service.
Roy Harper's past is a lot simpler. He was a kid who, from a very young age, had impeccable aim. He learned of his skills in handling a rifle and a bow and arrow at a young age at a Boy Scout camp in rural Oklahoma. He was so good, in fact, that he started to compete in local competitions. Hell, he even became a small legend in the circle of competitive archery, even being slated to compete in the 2012 Olympic Games on behalf of the USA. Unfortunately, his life took him in a different direction when drug tests outed that he was a heroin addict. He lost all respect within the archery community and barely managed to graduate high school as he was sent out to rehab. His life changed when he got clean and met an Army recruiter by happenstance at a bar. It would give Roy exactly what he had always wanted: purpose. He proved himself to be, once again, and amazing marksman. So amazing that he rose through the ranks quickly, before being picked up by Team 7. He served as a designated Marksman for the Team on dangerous assignments, and met Jason Todd through Team 7. About a year ago, though, Roy resigned from his position to take care of his ailing father, who ended up passing only months ago. Since then, Roy has decided to make it his mission to see the country that he fought and bled for. His mission was interrupted when he saw a very familiar face walk into some rundown bar in some barely known one road town in rural Texas.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:Jason and Roy have one thing in common: they believe deeply in protecting other people. Jason Todd wants answers as to who exactly beat him within an inch of his life, but more importantly wants to find a new purpose. When he reconnects with Roy in a bar and ends up fighting off some men associated with the Aryan Nation, Jason finds a new purpose: removing those racist scum from the face of the Earth. His deeper motivation, though, is an outlet for the anger and rage that is pent up inside as a result of both his injury and his commanding officers' lack of investigation into the matter.
Roy's motivation shifts very quickly within this story. He starts just wanting to see the nation he fought for, since he never really got to actually travel and just see the country for what it was. The problem is that the nation Roy stumbles upon isn't the ideal that he fought for. So, Roy has to pick up his bow once again to fight for a future and the ideal that he had fought for once again: a land of the free, where every man is born equal.C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:John Lynch: The former leader of Team 7, John Lynch is secretly a telekinetic metahuman. He is a cold and calculating man, and there's more to him than meets the eye.
Slade Wilson: One of the most experienced and toughest soldiers in Team 7, Slade has always been in it for one thing: the glory of combat. However, following his son Jericho falling terminally sick, Slade has been trying to find new ways to make money to save his dying son. Who knows where this has led him...
James Bronson: A hero through and through, James Bronson was an intelligence operator for Team 7 who, following Jason and Roy's escapades, will be tasked with bringing in the two men to answer for their crimes.White Dragon: The leader of the Aryan Brigade as a whole, and secretly a vigilante in Dallas, Texas that targets minorities in particular, William Heller is a highly trained soldier with money lining his pockets. He has taken on the title of "White Dragon" as the head of the Aryan Nation, and uses his money and influence to influence police departments and get his hands on experimental technology to aid in his plan for the extermination of "inferior races." He has even gathered white supremacist metahumans together and spun the press into calling them the "Knights Templar."
Bloodsport:Alex Trent is a highly trained former soldier and known racist, Alex has taken on the codename Bloodsport and led the militarization of the Aryan Brigade branch of the Aryan Nation into an army willing to fight for White Supremacy.
Heatmonger: One of the Aryan Brigade's militant operatives, Heatmonger is a blonde haired woman with experimental flamethrower gauntlets courtesy of one William Heller. She is a member of the "Knights Templar."
Backlash: A metahuman with the ability to elongate his arms and manipulate them to form squid-like tendrils. He is a member of the Knights Templar.
Iron Cross: A metahuman with super strength who serves in the Knights Templar.
Golden Eagle: The only non-metahuman among the Knights Templar, Golden Eagle is a former U.S. Marine turned "vigilante."
Blind Faith: She is not a direct member of the Knights Templar, but is always around when they operate publicly. She has telepathy, and uses her abilities to force people of color to admit to crimes openly that they have never committed.Chesire: Jade Nguyen is a member of the League of Assassins, and has been tasked with tracking down Jason Todd and making him answer to the League for his infiltration and "stealing" of trade secrets. By her own right, Jade Nguyen is an incredibly skilled assassin and a brilliant toxicologist. She has killed many of her victims by use of poisons and toxins.
Count Vertigo: Werner Zytle was a brilliant chemist and a member of the Vlatavan royal family... before all of his family was executed publicly in a bloody militaristic coup four years ago. The former Count was nearly killed himself by a sniper bullet after his new steward (Jason Todd in disguise) tricked him into getting in position. Since then, Werner Zytle has taken on an alias (Cecil Adams) and has started up a new crime syndicate called Vertigo. Werner has been cooking up powerful new drugs that have been hitting the streets and using the money he's been gathering to build up his organization until it's strong enough to take back his country... but not before he gets revenge on the people who killed him.S A M P L E P O S T:WIPP O S T C A T A L O G:WIP
Well, at least Ravenfire have their SOs now.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
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T H E T E R R I F I C S
M I S T E R T E R R I F I C ♦ P H A N T O M G I R L ♦ P L A S T I C M A N ♦ M E T A M O R P H O
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"If life isn't fair, we'll make it fair."
Metamorpho. A former stuntman turned adventurer by the name of Rex Mason. After a terrible accident, Rex finds himself a freak of nature with the ability to transmute his body into any element.
Plastic Man. A former small-time crook by the name of Patrick "Eel" O'Brian. After finding himself doused by an unidentified chemical liquid, Eel finds himself with the power to stretch and bend his body into any imaginable shape.
Phantom Girl. A teenager from the planet Bgztl, Linnya Wazzo finds herself trapped within a ghost form while lost alone in the multiverse after her homeworld is destroyed by a multiversal dictator.
Mister Terrific. Dubbed one of the smartest and gifted men on the planet, throughout his youth, Michael Holt went on to acquire numerous doctorates and degrees, as well as becoming an Olympic Decathlete. It was during this time that Michael began volunteering at the Fair Play Initiative, a series of homeless shelters run by an old family friend, Terry Sloane. He put his mind to good use in helping increase the productivity and actions of the organisation, finding a new passion for helping others. It was here that he met Paula. The two quickly fell in love, marrying a few years later.
In an effort to fund their future, Michael began working at Stagg Industries, where he could finally push his mind and potential to their limit. This turned out to be an issue, however, as he founding himself getting sucked into his projects, with him putting them ahead of more personal things such as Paula and the Fair Play Initiative. This proved fatal one day when him being busy resulting in Paula tragically dying in a car accident, along with their unborn child.
As a result, Michael's life fell apart, with him leaving Stagg Industries, and falling into a deep depression. It was only during a meeting with Terry Sloane did things seem to change. Thrusting the responsibility of running the Fair Play Initiative upon him, Terry made him see that although he'd made his fortune in the world of science, it was his love for helping people that had led him meeting Paula and being happy. Turning his anger into resolve, Michael decides to set things.
Plastic Man. A former small-time crook by the name of Patrick "Eel" O'Brian. After finding himself doused by an unidentified chemical liquid, Eel finds himself with the power to stretch and bend his body into any imaginable shape.
Phantom Girl. A teenager from the planet Bgztl, Linnya Wazzo finds herself trapped within a ghost form while lost alone in the multiverse after her homeworld is destroyed by a multiversal dictator.
Mister Terrific. Dubbed one of the smartest and gifted men on the planet, throughout his youth, Michael Holt went on to acquire numerous doctorates and degrees, as well as becoming an Olympic Decathlete. It was during this time that Michael began volunteering at the Fair Play Initiative, a series of homeless shelters run by an old family friend, Terry Sloane. He put his mind to good use in helping increase the productivity and actions of the organisation, finding a new passion for helping others. It was here that he met Paula. The two quickly fell in love, marrying a few years later.
In an effort to fund their future, Michael began working at Stagg Industries, where he could finally push his mind and potential to their limit. This turned out to be an issue, however, as he founding himself getting sucked into his projects, with him putting them ahead of more personal things such as Paula and the Fair Play Initiative. This proved fatal one day when him being busy resulting in Paula tragically dying in a car accident, along with their unborn child.
As a result, Michael's life fell apart, with him leaving Stagg Industries, and falling into a deep depression. It was only during a meeting with Terry Sloane did things seem to change. Thrusting the responsibility of running the Fair Play Initiative upon him, Terry made him see that although he'd made his fortune in the world of science, it was his love for helping people that had led him meeting Paula and being happy. Turning his anger into resolve, Michael decides to set things.
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:
The Terrifics instantly became a favourite of mine since it's debut a few years ago, with the idea of a bunch of strangers coming together to form both a team and a family being something I enjoy a lot.
This series was heavily based on the idea of the Fantastic Four, with each character being an analogue for one the iconic roster. Mr Terrific, in particular, takes on the role of Mr Fantastic, and as such, I really want to hone into some of the flaws that the character he is replacing held. In some stories, Reed is seen to only care about science or their work, getting wrapped up in those things and as a result letting things slide because of their focus in on larger problems. I wanted to play up this idea with Mr Terrific, a character who's already suffered so much loss within his personal life.
This series was heavily based on the idea of the Fantastic Four, with each character being an analogue for one the iconic roster. Mr Terrific, in particular, takes on the role of Mr Fantastic, and as such, I really want to hone into some of the flaws that the character he is replacing held. In some stories, Reed is seen to only care about science or their work, getting wrapped up in those things and as a result letting things slide because of their focus in on larger problems. I wanted to play up this idea with Mr Terrific, a character who's already suffered so much loss within his personal life.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Additional Cast:
Terry Sloane: Once the original Mister Terrific of Hoover's J-Men, Terry sought to continue to help people by founding Gateway City's "Fair Play" homeless shelters to ensure nobody would ever feel forgotten or abandoned. Since retiring, he has passed on his responsibilities at Fair Play to Michael Holt.
Simon Stagg: The corrupt and power-hungry CEO of Stagg Industries.
Java: Hailing from 40,000 years ago, Java is Simon Stagg's personal bodyguard.
Sapphire Stagg: Daughter of Simon Stagg and one of the top researchers at Stagg Industries, Sapphire found herself growing close to Rex Mason when he originally began working at the organisation. She has not seen him since the accident.
Luke O'Brian: Son of Eel O'Brian, Luke grew up hating his father after he abandoned him and his mother.
The Waverider: A visitor from the future bringing grave news of what is to come.
The Monarch: TBD.
Starro: TBD
Doctor Will Magnus: TBD
Simon Stagg: The corrupt and power-hungry CEO of Stagg Industries.
Java: Hailing from 40,000 years ago, Java is Simon Stagg's personal bodyguard.
Sapphire Stagg: Daughter of Simon Stagg and one of the top researchers at Stagg Industries, Sapphire found herself growing close to Rex Mason when he originally began working at the organisation. She has not seen him since the accident.
Luke O'Brian: Son of Eel O'Brian, Luke grew up hating his father after he abandoned him and his mother.
The Waverider: A visitor from the future bringing grave news of what is to come.
The Monarch: TBD.
Starro: TBD
Doctor Will Magnus: TBD
S A M P L E P O S T:
A sample post that can be used in the IC if you so desire upon acceptance. This post should provide an example of your vision for the desired character. This sample post should meet all standards outline in the rules and additionally include dialogue, mannerisms and other actions representative of your intended portrayal.
P O S T C A T L O G:
A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed arcs and stories.
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