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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
D A N N Y P H A N T O M


"Witty Quote"
D A N I E L F E N T O N C O L L E G E S T U D E N T P O R T L A N D, O R E G O N
O R I G I N S:


Young Danny Fenton, he was just eighteen,
When his parents built a very strange machine.
It was designed to view, a world unseen.

When it didn't quite work, his folks, they just quit,
But then Danny took a look inside of it,
There was a great big flash, everything just changed,
His molecules got all rearranged!

When he first woke up, he realized,
He had snow white hair, and glowin' green eyes.
He could walk through walls, disappear, and fly,
He was much more unique than the other guys.

And it was then that he knew what he had to do,
He had to stop all the ghosts that were comin' through,

S A M P L E P O S T:

"For the last time, I have no affiliation with that hack, Venkman!"

Jack Fenton roared into the phone before ending the call with an aggressive press of his thumb. He sat back and massaged his temples. That had been the third phone call this afternoon alone. He knew it’d be coming after what happened in New York nearly forty years ago. They shut Venkman down, discredited his and his colleagues’ work, and swept everything under the rug.

But Jack remembered.

It had inspired his work and between him, his now wife and his college roommate, the three had gone on to create the proto-portal that inspired his now complete ‘Fenton Portal’, a gateway to the ‘ghost zone’ and the object of his tele-harassment. His initial attempts to power the device had failed, but that didn’t stop this shady government organization from wanting to acquire it.

Looking up from his mobile device, Jack put away his gloomy expression and forced a smile onto his face before he addressed his wife and children.

"Sorry, Madds. I didn't mean to disrupt this dinner you worked so hard on, no more phone calls for me today" the burly man[color=#ffffff] [/color]apologized before turning to his eldest. "How were your classes today, Jazz?”

“Dad, you and I both know you don’t care about my classes,” Jasmine ‘Jazz’ Fenton replied dryly, pushing a few loose strands of her red hair out of her face and tucking them neatly back into the teal headband she wore.

“You’re just probing to see if I saw any ghosts,” Jazz rolled her eyes, “No, Dad, unfortunately for you, my classes were painfully mundane.”

“Jazz, that might have been the case today. But I’ve been looking over maps of Portland for the past decade, and I’m very confident that your school sits on a Hellmouth.” Jack explained excitedly, “If anywhere in Portland is haunted, it’s Reed College.”

“Whatever you say, Dad,” Jazz smiled before picking away at her dinner. Jack had struggled to connect with Jazz since she had graduated high school two years ago. Jasmine being accepted into Reed was a point of pride for both of her parents, but Jazz had quickly outgrown Jack and Maddie Fenton and their ‘sick obsession with ghosts’ as she so mildly put it.

“Danny!” Jack exclaimed excitedly, pivoting the conversation toward his youngest, “I was wondering if you could help your old man tonight with powering up the portal, would love to see if I can get it running.”

“Uh yeah, sure, Dad.” Danny replied reluctantly, “I suppose I can do that.” His fork rolled a few loose peas around on his plate before Danny let out a small sigh.

“Not like I had plans anyway.”

A college freshman, Danny hadn’t exactly been an overachiever nor a popular student in high school. His grades were painfully average, his extracurriculars non-existent, and he had to live in the shadow of his popular sister who seemed to excel at everything she put her mind to.

If anything, Danny knew more about what the inside of a locker looked like, than he did the inside of a classroom.

“How about you, Jazz?” Jack asked, “Want to spend some time with the family?”

“Sorry, Dad,” Jazz replied coolly, “As tempting as that is, I have a date.”

“A date?” Maddie spoke up, “Will he be coming here to pick you up?”

“Ha,” Jazz laughed sarcastically, enthusiastically shaking her head, “No, no he will not. I’m meeting him at the library.”

Oooh a study date,” Danny waved his hands, “Sounds hot, making out between the bookshelves, being shushed by the librarian.”

“Daniel,” Jack scolded, “That’s enough.” He stated before turning to Jazz, “If any boy is going to be taking my daughter out, I need to meet him.”

“He’s a man, Dad, and it’s just a first date, he doesn’t need that kind of pressure.”

“At least give us a name,” Maddie pried, “Just for safety at the very least,”

“His name is Angel,” Jazz replied before Danny burst out laughing.

“It’s a very common name in South America, Danny!” Jazz snapped. “You’d know that if you were more like Angel, He’s a very cultured man, unlike you.”

“I hope we get to meet him, Jazz.” Maddie smiled as Jazz stood from the table.

“Yeah, fat chance of that.”

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 interactions and stories.
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Charon & Roth
An Agents of H.E.L.P. Spinoff
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G M (s): Lord Wraith C O N S U L T I N G G M (s): DocTachyon & Roman G E N R E: Fandom T Y P E: Collaborative Linear Sandbox
"To me, writing is fun. It doesn’t matter what you’re writing, as long as you can tell a story."
S T A N L E E ( 1 9 2 2 - 2 0 1 8 )

I N T R O D U C T I O N:
I N T R O D U C T I O N:

W E L C O M E F A N S O F D C, M A R V E L, A N D A L L C O M I C S A L I K E !
Sensation & Wonder is a roleplay based upon the structures and mechanics of previous games run under the Absolute Comics banner but with a goal of overcoming the past games' biggest weakness; a lack of collaborative writing. As such, Sensation & Wonder is a collaborative linear sandbox roleplay that seeks to merge and mix the lore of your favourite DC and Marvel characters into one living cohesive world. The idea behind this RP is not to embody our favourite heroes to simply retell iconic stories and origins but to take these characters and make them our own. In fact, the goal of the RP is for players to take their favourite characters and re-imagine them to tell stories together. We only ask that the 'heart' of the character remains the same. Players will take the roles of their favourite characters and tell stories in collaboration with other players in order to develop and grow the world.

How heavily mixed these elements are is dependent upon the players as the world and its lore is shaped by you and your stories. Do Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark know each other? Has Lady Shiva trained with Danny Rand? Have Thor and Superman gone toe to toe? These are questions for you to ask yourself and they can only be answered as the RP unfolds!

S U M M A R Y:
S U M M A R Y:

"T H E R E W A S A N I D E A . . .
. . . A N I D E A T O B R I N G T O G E T H E R A G R O U P O F R E M A R K A B L E I N D I V I D U A L S."


Heroes have been a part of our culture since the dawn of time. Each and every culture passed down tales of the mortal and the immortal, their struggles and inevitable triumphs over the forces of evil. Tales of honour, of love, of defeat, deception and even betrayal. We have myths, legends and numerous amounts of lore detailing the feats and downfalls of each of these heroes. When one mentions heroes, names of classical figures come to mind but this world is and always has been home to more.

No one can be sure of the first time alien life visited Earth, it may have been before recorded history, it may have been within the last century. One thing can be sure, that before the last decade we had all but forgotten they had been here before and they returned with fervour. The names of the first superheroes had all but been forgotten, those who fought in the great wars and worked behind enemy lines in times of tension. But, then came a man, not with a shield, but a cape. A man who could fly.

And the world's eyes were once again opened.

Costumed heroes once thought to be urban legends and menaces by the press and authorities alike suddenly took on a new reverence in the eyes of the public and so their names went from being spoken in hushed whispers to exclaimed excitedly as they flew overhead. With the emergence of these masked heroes, so too did their foes become more and more ostentatious.

Until disaster struck.

The presence of these superpower individuals brought the wrong attention and the world found itself under siege from the heavens as an alien force rained fire on the world and oppressed the populace while abducting and suppressing the masks who once protected the people.

With Earth under control by an invading force, heroes are forced to put aside their differences and unite for a common goal. Over throw the ___, save humanity and take back Earth.

Will you answer that call?
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
B L O O D


"Gone, gone the form of man..."
J A S O N B L O O D P R I V A T E I N V E S T I G A T O R P O R T L A N D, O R E G O N
O R I G I N S:


A man cursed with a demon, Jason Blood is forever doomed to walk the Earth, a man with no place to call home, and no persons to call friends. A world-leading expert on the occult and demonology. He has walked the Earth since the 6th Century, after the wizard Merlin bound the increasingly uncontrollable threat of Etrigan The Demon to his mortal soul.

Now his services are sought by other lost souls, those without hope who turn to the expert to delve into cases and mysteries that can't be solved or collaborated by the mundane authorities of the mortal plane.

S A M P L E P O S T:

This city is killing me.

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 interactions and stories.
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________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Amity Park - Portland, Oregan - United States of America
Who You Gonna Call? #1.01: Hellmouth
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): None
Previously: None

"For the last time, I have no affiliation with that hack, Venkman!"

Jack Fenton roared into the phone before ending the call with an aggressive press of his thumb. He sat back and massaged his temples. That had been the third phone call this afternoon alone. He knew it’d be coming after what happened in New York nearly forty years ago. They shut Venkman down, discredited his and his colleagues’ work, and swept everything under the rug.

But Jack remembered.

It had inspired his work and between him, his now wife and his college roommate, the three had gone on to create the proto-portal that inspired his now complete ‘Fenton Portal’, a gateway to the ‘ghost zone’ and the object of his tele-harassment. His initial attempts to power the device had failed, but that didn’t stop this shady government organization from wanting to acquire it.

Looking up from his mobile device, Jack put away his gloomy expression and forced a smile onto his face before he addressed his wife and children.

"Sorry, Madds. I didn't mean to disrupt this dinner you worked so hard on, no more phone calls for me today" the burly man[color=#ffffff] [/color]apologized before turning to his eldest. "How were your classes today, Jazz?”

“Dad, you and I both know you don’t care about my classes,” Jasmine ‘Jazz’ Fenton replied dryly, pushing a few loose strands of her red hair out of her face and tucking them neatly back into the teal headband she wore.

“You’re just probing to see if I saw any ghosts,” Jazz rolled her eyes, “No, Dad, unfortunately for you, my classes were painfully mundane.”

“Jazz, that might have been the case today. But I’ve been looking over maps of Portland for the past decade, and I’m very confident that your school sits on a Hellmouth.” Jack explained excitedly, “If anywhere in Portland is haunted, it’s Reed College.”

“Whatever you say, Dad,” Jazz smiled before picking away at her dinner. Jack had struggled to connect with Jazz since she had graduated high school two years ago. Jasmine being accepted into Reed was a point of pride for both of her parents, but Jazz had quickly outgrown Jack and Maddie Fenton and their ‘sick obsession with ghosts’ as she so mildly put it.

“Danny!” Jack exclaimed excitedly, pivoting the conversation toward his youngest, “I was wondering if you could help your old man tonight with powering up the portal, would love to see if I can get it running.”

“Uh yeah, sure, Dad.” Danny replied reluctantly, “I suppose I can do that.” His fork rolled a few loose peas around on his plate before Danny let out a small sigh.

“Not like I had plans anyway.”

A college freshman, Danny hadn’t exactly been an overachiever nor a popular student in high school. His grades were painfully average, his extracurriculars non-existent, and he had to live in the shadow of his popular sister who seemed to excel at everything she put her mind to.

If anything, Danny knew more about what the inside of a locker looked like, than he did the inside of a classroom.

“How about you, Jazz?” Jack asked, “Want to spend some time with the family?”

“Sorry, Dad,” Jazz replied coolly, “As tempting as that is, I have a date.”

“A date?” Maddie spoke up, “Will he be coming here to pick you up?”

“Ha,” Jazz laughed sarcastically, enthusiastically shaking her head, “No, no he will not. I’m meeting him at the library.”

Oooh a study date,” Danny waved his hands, “Sounds hot, making out between the bookshelves, being shushed by the librarian.”

“Daniel,” Jack scolded, “That’s enough.” He stated before turning to Jazz, “If any boy is going to be taking my daughter out, I need to meet him.”

“He’s a man, Dad, and it’s just a first date, he doesn’t need that kind of pressure.”

“At least give us a name,” Maddie pried, “Just for safety at the very least,”

“His name is Angel,” Jazz replied before Danny burst out laughing.

“It’s a very common name in South America, Danny!” Jazz snapped. “You’d know that if you were more like Angel, He’s a very cultured man, unlike you.”

“I hope we get to meet him, Jazz.” Maddie smiled as Jazz stood from the table.

“Yeah, fat chance of that.”
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________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Tillamook State Forest - Near Portland, Oregan - United States of America
Who You Gonna Call? #1.02: Jinx
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): None
Previously: Hellmouth

“Cold,”

A gaunt man leaned over the body of the girl, his eyes wandering around the moss-covered forest she had been so hastily discarded in. Limbs askew, clothes torn, makeup smudged from tears. There was no care, no respect in this killing. Rigour mortis had passed, meaning the body had been left for over a day.

Odd that nothing else had preyed on its flesh.

A gloved hand slowly rolled the head to the side. The neck had been attacked, repeatedly by the looks of it. Numerous markings from a pair of puncture marks marred the now pale flesh. Whomever, or whatever had done this had missed the vein the first few times.

Inexperienced, fledgling.

The puncture marks confirmed what Blood had hypothesized, yet left many more questions. He thought he was tracking a much older vampire. This was the work of someone more recently killed.

He sniffed the air, the smell of a canine moving closer in the distance. Muttering a small incantation under his breath, Blood cast a spell to hone his hearing, the sounds of boots trodding the forest floor like drum beats in his ears while they chased the lumbering bloodhound that drew closer with every second Blood remained by the body.

He needed to leave.

Moving his hands quickly, Jason conjured himself an echo of the crime scene, storing the recreation in the gem of his ring before he beat a quick retreat uphill, back to the road where his car was waiting for him. Climbing into the seat of the ‘67 Impala, he turned the key to the heavy block engine as the black coupe roared to life.

“Portland Police!” A voice yelled from outside the car and Jason floored the pedal. The rear wheel drive sprayed gravel towards the officer who struggled to draw his weapon in time before the red taillights of the large Chevy disappeared down the twisting backroads amongst the redwoods.

“Did you get the plate?” The lead detective called to the officer from the ravine floor as the officer looked around dazed and confused.

“Sorry, Detective, what plate?”

“On the suspect’s vehicle.” The detective replied, taking a few steps forward before the officer suddenly collapsed to the ground and began convulsing.

From within the car, Blood looked in his rearview mirror. He was no fool. A black 1967 Chevrolet Impala was sure to draw attention and be easy to identify. However, a simple memory jinx on the plate meant an easy escape.

“I need medical help over here!” The detective roared, looking towards the road before attending to this officer.

There was more at work here than met the eye.

“Hank!” The detective roared, yelling for his partner, “I’m going to need help with the Sergeant, hold his head.” He ordered, “Let's see if we can stabilize him,”

“What happened, Nick?”

“I don’t know, but we need a BOLO out for a black car, sedan maybe? Large, older model.” He replied, “I think Wu got the plate before he started to seizure.”

“We need to call it in now,” Hank replied, pulling his phone out, “Dispatch, I need a BOLO for a large black sedan, older model.” Hank relayed, “I believe it was a seventies-era muscle car.”

“Copy that.” The dispatcher replied, “All units be on lookout for-”

Sirens echoed in the distance as the ambulance drew nearer, waiting on the paramedics, Nick watched the ambulance disappear before slowly climbing back down into the forest ravine and approaching the body.

“How close were we?” He asked, looking at the lead examiner who only shook his head in response.

“The victim has been deceased between twenty-four and thirty-six hours based on what I can gather here. Like the others, she appears to be completely exsanguinated.”

“Damn,” Hank responded, “Another drained of blood, I hate this case.”

“Hopefully units flag the car, but until then we might have a killer that revisits their kill sites.” Nick mused, “Be good to have some unmarked units in the areas where we discovered the other bodies.”

His eyes wandered the treeline back towards where the suspect’s vehicle had sat on the road above. Clenching his jaw, Nick took a deep breath before turning back to Hank.

“I need to visit a contact, let me know when they’ve had a proper look at the body.” Hank smiled, slapping Nick on the back as the younger man turned to leave.

“Will do, and tell Monroe I said hi.”
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Location: Amity Park - Portland, Oregan - United States of America
Who You Gonna Call? #1.03: Escalating
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): None
Previously: Jinx

“Hey, I expected you to call about an hour ago.”

The cheery voice answered as Jason put his phone on the holder mounted to the dash of the Impala. Merging onto the 405, he geared up before finding a pair of cars to coast between, doing his best to drive casually while still in a hurry.

“I need to see the other bodies.” The raspy voice replied, half of Blood’s mouth moving while the left side was firmly clamped down on a cigarette. He took a long drag, the sound echoing over the speakerphone before the woman responded again.

“Y’know those things will kill you right?”

“I wish.” Blood scoffed, “The other bodies, Liv, I need to see them. Can I come to you?”

“Yeah, don’t see why not?” Liv’s voice was carefree, “If that’s what you feel you need to do, I just knew the local authorities wouldn’t know what to do with this case. Just heard they’re bringing a body in, take it you found another?”

“Trail was cold, body had been there at least twenty-seven hours. But you were right to call me.” He took another drag off the cigarette. “You’ve got a vampire, though I fear he’s made a fledgling.”

“What makes you so certain it’s a ‘he’?”

“Body was female, you noted the others were as well. That pattern suggests a male.” Blood replied. “Plus, female vampires are more subtle than this, this almost feral, primal even. I’m betting a male.” He explained, “Have you tried taking a peek yourself?”

“I was waiting for you, there’s unspoken rules about these sorts of things. If a zombie was found out meddling in the affairs of a vampire…” Liv’s voice trailed off, “You know the monarchy wouldn’t take kindly to it.”

“Let’s pray he’s rogue then.” Blood replied, “The monarchy and I don’t exactly see eye to eye and the other guy’s really not a fan of politics.” He flicked his blinker on, changing lanes before taking the next exit while continuing to speak.

“You don’t think he’s an assassin looking for a slayer?” Liv asked, pausing before elaborating her thought, “They’re all college-aged, young, physically fit.”

“A war between the council and the monarchy wouldn’t be good for anyone. If he is an assassin, then it’s fair game to take him out.” Jason pulled the large car around another corner, noting his distance in relation to the medical examiner’s office.

“I’m going to ditch the car, the Detective almost saw me earlier, I had to jinx an officer.” Blood muttered, pulling into an alley that was just wide enough to open the black coupe’s doors. “He should recover.”

“Should?”

“Human minds are fragile.” Blood stated matter of factually, “Is the lead detective going to be a problem?”

“Burkhardt?” Liv responded, Jason noted the change in her voice. That immediately confirmed his suspicions. “Burkhardt gets the weird cases, but he makes collars,” Her voice trailed off again, “I’ve never liked the way he looks at me. Like he can see through me. You should be careful.”

“Lucky me.” The door creaked open as Blood stole away down a pair of narrow stairs. The smell of embalming fluid and ammonium was overpowering before he entered through the door left unlocked for him. Inside the petite woman with snow-white hair stood between a pair of examination tables, each with the autopsied body of a woman atop them.

“You don’t have a lot of time, the uniforms you just left behind in the forest are making their way in with the latest victim. I imagine Burkhardt and Griffin will be here shortly looking for answers.”

“I need to see the bite marks,” Blood remarked, bypassing Liv before pouring over the pair of bodies. With care, he turned the head of the first girl, a single point of entry from a pair of fangs marred the carotid artery. He nodded with a grunt, spinning around and examining the second body, only to find the same.

Blood’s brow furrowed.

“How far apart were these two found?” He asked with a guttural tone.

“About three days, with the body today being only two days from the last of these,” Liv replied while reading over her notes. Blood buried his hands into his jacket, pushing his shoulders forward while heading for the door. Liv’s eyes went wide as his quick exit, reaching to stop him only to be met with a cold response.

“He’s escalating, and he’s made a friend.”
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Location: Amity Park - Portland, Oregan - United States of America
Who You Gonna Call? #1.04: Angel
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): None
Previously: Escalating

The hiss of the brakes echoed down the empty street as the bus came to a stop outside of the Amity Park Neighborhood Library. Jazz stood from her seat, walking what felt like an eternity through the nearly empty bus. A hooded figure intently watched the lithe young woman as she walked past him, flashing a broken smile toward Jazz before she hurriedly departed onto the sidewalk. The air brakes releasing sent out another loud hiss, causing Jazz to jump before taking a breather and looking around the vacant street. A faulty street light flickered above her head casting long, eerie shadows between the intermittent spurts of darkness.

Rubbing her arms as the night breeze sent a chill down her spine, Jazz looked up at the library, the warm glow from inside seeped out its windows and added a luminescent glow to the building’s surroundings while illuminating the adjacent allies enough to see the subtle luminescent gleam of eyes staring back at her.

A low mew relaxed Jazz as the alley cat walked toward her, its tail slowly twitching as both Jazz and the cat cautiously sized each other up before the cat ultimately decided that Jazz was worth approaching. Rubbing its face against her shins and ankles, it purred excitedly hoping to entice pets from the young redheaded woman. Leaning down to pet the black cat, Jazz smiled at the small creature, only for it to suddenly bear its fangs and bite her hand before fleeing back into the darkness.

Jazz cursed under her breath before nursing the bitten hand, turning to approach the library only to walk straight into the chest of a man nearly a head taller than her.

“Are you okay?” He asked, Jazz looking upwards, relaxing as she smiled towards a face that could have been carved from marble. Statuesque and chiseled, his strong jawline cut almost a heroic figure beneath empathetic eyes that never seemed to leave her. If he were to tell Jazz that she was his whole world, she’d be a fool not to believe him. Short hair adorned his head, carefully styled, though somewhat retro in Jazz’s opinion, all atop a body that could have made Adonis blush. However, the man hid it beneath a billowing long coat only further adding to the intrigue and mystery.

“Angel,” Jazz managed to reply in a breathy gasp, “You snuck up on me,”

“Did the cat draw blood?” He asked, taking her hand and examining the wound, Jazz could have sworn he almost looked disappointed when the skin of her hand wasn’t even broken.

“No, thankfully,” The younger woman replied, withdrawing her hand, her cheeks turning several shades of crimson at his attention. “Just caught me by surprise is all.”

Angel’s intense gaze followed from her hand, tracing her neck to the flushed cheeks before he awkwardly turned towards the library door and gestured towards the building.

“Shall we go inside?” Angel suggested, “I don’t think we’ll learn anything about the Spanish Inquisition out here,”

“You’re cute, but you do realize that was just a front to see you again,” Jazz smiled, “I do have the internet at home,” She added wryly before tapping a finger to Angel’s nose and entering the building. A small smirk crossed his face as he followed before her, his eyes drawn to her neck as Jazz adjusted her hair, pulling it away from the tender, ivory skin. The faint scent of vanilla and lilac suddenly caught Angel’s nose and for the briefest second, his eyes flashed red.

Finding a small nook in the back so as not to disturb anyone, Angel pulled a chair out for a Jazz, before taking a seat opposite of her. Leaning across the table, the pair stared into each others’ eyes for several moments before Angel reached across and took hold of Jazz’s hands and broke the silence between them.

“So what do your parents do?” He pried, his intense gaze feeling like he was looking inside Jazz, analyzing her every moment and thought as she shifted uncomfortably at the question.

“Promise not to laugh, but they’re ghost hunters.” Jazz reluctantly admitted, “It’s been a constant embarrassment for most of my life. It was cute when I was five, but now…” Her voice trailed off as Angel gave her a small smile.

“So you don’t believe in ghosts then?” He asked, an innocent smile disarming Jazz as she blushed again before answering.

“I wouldn’t say, ‘don’t’, I don’t know, there’s too much compelling evidence to ignore that the supernatural couldn’t exist. But, what my parents do, it’s borderline obsession,” She replied, “Do you…” Jazz hesitated, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Oh,” Angel feigned surprise at the question being turned around on him. Jazz studied the man across the table from her curiously, only noticing now how under the warm light of the library she could see so many bluish veins from beneath Angel’s nearly translucent skin. The dark hair warded away the intrusive thoughts of asking if he was albino, but Jazz had never seen skin so unique as Angel’s.

“I stopped believing in ghost stories a long time ago,” He lied with a dry chuckle, “Though I’d still be curious to see the sort of equipment ‘esteemed’ ghost hunters such as your parents use in their day-to-day.” He added as Jazz pulled her hand back.

“You don’t have to be a dick about it,” She snapped, “They’re still my parents and they deserve respect,”

“Jazz,” Angel started as Jazz began to gather her things.

“I’m sorry, it’s late and maybe this was a mistake after all,” She looked at Angel, clearly upset as she feigned an apologetic tone. “I should get going-" Standing, she turned to leave before Angel locked eyes with her.

“Sit down.” He commanded, his gaze holding Jazz as she suddenly hesitated before suddenly she shook her head.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” She retorted, “As if,” She added clearly disgusted before storming out of the library.

“Jazz, wait,” Angel protested, chasing after her, “I wasn’t trying to insult-”

“SHHH!” The librarian on duty suddenly interrupted, stepping between Angel and Jazz before the door closed behind the young redheaded woman.

Stepping back out into the cold of the night, Jazz took a deep breath, pausing to pull her coat on as she checked the bus schedule. With her date cut short, she’d be waiting quite a while for the next bus and ultimately decided it’d be better to call a ‘Whizzer’ for a ride. Leaning back against the library wall, she tucked herself around the corner, into the alley in case Angel came chasing after her. If she hadn’t been looking at her phone she might have noticed the figure creeping up behind her in the dark before it was too late. Her phone suddenly clattered to the ground, the screen shattering as it met the cold asphalt.

A stifled scream was lost in the howl of stray dogs barking before Jazz was dragged into the darkness.
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"I am Vengeance."
B R U C E T H O M A S W A Y N E W A Y W A R D H E I R G O T H A M C I T Y
O R I G I N S:


Gotham City, a cesspool of crime and corruption once upheld by the guiding light of its community, Dr. Thomas Wayne. A former mayoral candidate, billionaire and philanthropist alongside his wife, Martha of the Kane founding family, the pair were creating a better Gotham before their lives were cut short leaving behind a sole heir in their son, Bruce.

Bruce Wayne was raised under the stewardship of Alfred Pennyworth, his father's closest confident and bodyguard. The family fortune however was put under the guardianship of Bruce's uncle, Jacob Kane until such a time that Bruce came of age to claim it. However, when that time came, Bruce vanished like a ghost in the night leaving Alfred to bitterly moan the loss of the boy who he had come to see as his own son.

Burdened with a mission to find justice for not only his parents, but vengeance for Gotham as a whole, Bruce travelled the world, seeking out experts in various skills, all while living under a plethora of aliases and getting by on the kindness of strangers and odd work. Eventually, Bruce fell into the ranks of the League of Shadows. But when the time came to complete his initiation through the execution of a petty thief, Bruce stayed his blade and was expelled from the order much to the disappointment of both the Demon's Head who saw an heir in Bruce and his daughter Talia, with whom Bruce had become involved.

Returning to Gotham a man now honed into a weapon, Bruce is prepared to do what he must to find his parents' murderer and bring justice back to Gotham. Seeking out his childhood friend, Dr. Thomas Elliot, Bruce is preparing not only to make his debut as Gotham's Prodigal Son among the socialites, but also on the streets as a silent guardian, a watchful protector.

A Dark Knight.

S A M P L E P O S T:

"Does Alfred know you're back?" Thomas asked, opening the door for the ghost of a man who had shown up on his private yacht a little less than an hour ago. The skilled surgeon had been trying to relax, taking some time off from Wayne Memorial Hospital before a bearded felon had boarded his watercraft and nearly took several years off his life.

"You're the first," Bruce replied through the matted scruff adorning his face beneath several years of shag that hid his forehead and ears. Layers of roughly worn clothes were pulled taunt over his shoulders and barrel-chested frame as the once lithe boy now stood with the silhouette of a boxer beside Tommy. Bruce's arms made Thomas' gym muscles almost pale in comparison. While pumped, he could have looked almost equally muscular to Bruce, but Bruce was resting now, and Tommy would have hated seeing what Bruce had been up to for all these years to earn himself such a physical form.

"Bruce, I think you're legally dead," Tommy replied with a chuckle, pouring a drink and offering it to Bruce who declined with only a small wave of his hand. Shrugging, the other man quickly took a long drink, before refilling the glass and sitting across from Bruce again.

"Where have you been all this time?" He asked, "I'd seen the tabloids and every so often there would be a story about 'Bruce Wayne Sightings' but I assumed it was like Big Foot or Elvis,"

"Did you go to my funeral?"

"Alfred never had one, your Uncle had a candlelight vigil in hopes you'd make it home safely, but after the first three years, they just sort of stopped."

"Understandable," Bruce replied, unphased, unbothered and frankly Tommy was finding it a little unnerving.

"Why now, Bruce?"

"Because now," The larger man replied, "Now, I'm ready."

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 interactions and stories.
Hidden 21 days ago 21 days ago Post by Lord Wraith
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H o w e v e r d a r k a n d s c a r y t h e w o r l d i s r i g h t n o w , t h e r e w i l l b e l i g h t . . .
| G | O | T | H | A | M | | C | I | T | Y |
_______________________________________
| S | T | O | R | I | E | S |

| ◼ G M: Lord Wraith | ◼ G E N R E: Superhuman, Modern | ◼ T Y P E: Sandbox with Linear Elements and an emphasis on Collaboration |

P R E M I S E:

"I am Vengeance, I am the Night, I am... Batman."
~Bruce Wayne


Premise:
Gotham City Stories follows the happenings of the aptly named 'Batfamily' and their war against the crime and corruption that has entombed itself in Gotham like a cancer. The roleplay uses non-linear storytelling to allow players to participate at all points in the career of the Batman and his protegés. Players will take on roles of the Batman and his allies, telling out stories across multiple points in Batman's career and potentially beyond. For example, if the GM is portraying Bruce Wayne, they may instigate three ongoing plots; one taking place during Batman's first year where another player could take on the role of a young James Gordon, then another story taking place several years later where Batman and Robin are now joined by the first Batgirl and a third story where Batman, Nightwing, Oracle and the latest Robin and Batgirl are now united against a common threat.

Players can choose to take on secondary characters in addition to their primary POV. Every accepted player must first claim a member of the Batfamily they're dedicated to writing, secondary characters may include villains. All players will have an opportunity to access a shared document to coordinate a timeline upon acceptance.

Batfamily
-Bruce Wayne
-Dick Grayson
-Barbara Gordon
-Jason Todd
-Kate Kane
-Timothy Drake
-Cassandra Cain
-Stephanie Brown
-Damian Wayne
-Luke Fox
-Harper Rowe
-Duke Thomas

Birds of Prey
-Dinah Lance
-Helena Bertinelli
-Renee Montoya

The Outsiders:
-Jefferson Pierce
-Rex Mason
-Tatsu Yamashiro
-Gabrielle Doe
-Emily Briggs
-Grace Choi
-Brion Markov
-Roy Raymond Jr

The Outlaws:
-Roy Harper
-Koriand'r
-Artemis
-Bizzaro

Gotham City Sirens:
-Selina Kyle
-Harleen Quinzel
-Pamela Isley

Other Allies:
-Alfred Pennyworth
-James Gordon
-Lucius Fox
-Jack Ryder
-Jason Blood
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"Quem com ferro fere, com ferro será ferido."

Location: New York City - New York, U.S.A.
Concrete Jungle #1.01: City of Gods

Interaction(s): None
Previously: None

Amber eyes fluttered awake as the train began to slow. Gone was the abundant unspoiled natural horizon that lived in the shadow of the towering Rockies. Fresh air was replaced by stifling smog as man-made monuments of architecture reached toward the sky, leaving all below cast in darkness while they threatened to choke the sun. New York City was a far cry from Boise, and to be honest, Yara Flor was already feeling homesick before the train had even stopped.

But the butterflies currently hurdling themselves around her innards weren’t about to stop the grad student from making the most of her trip East. As part of a joint program with Empire State University, Boise State University sent some of its grad students to New York City to spend time at its sister school and visit the exhibits and institutions that Idaho was sorely lacking.

Yara pressed her pillow down from her window seat on the train and looked out toward the New York Harbour. Never had she seen so much water in one place, the seemingly endless horizon out into the Atlantic almost unnerving the young Brazillian woman. Her eyes darted towards the Statue of Liberty, keenly studying the green lady who stood over the Harbour, guiding the Hudson out to sea.

She caught one last glimpse before the sight was gone and the cabin was plunged into darkness as the train entered a tunnel toward the heart of the city. Bringing her feet onto the seat, Yara rested her chin firmly between her knees, hanging it over as she absent-mindedly scrolled through her phone. Pictures of her aunt’s farm brought forth a resurgence of her homesickness, and Yara felt a bittersweet smile cross her lips.

The squeal of the brakes alerted every passenger of the arrival at Grand Central Station. Gathering her things, Yara turned to exit her side only to find the aisle congested, seemingly at a standstill as confused and angry murmuring began to buzz over the growing line of people. Turning to look out her window again, Yara quickly noted the train had in fact not arrived at its destination, at least, not truly.

Sitting half in the station, the doors weren’t aligned with the platform meaning stepping out of the train at this time could result in injury or worse, for most people at least. The girl from Idaho allowed herself a small humoured smile. Her Aunt’s worst fear was that Yara would step foot in New York and people would instantly discover her secret.

And so here she already was in a situation where her gifts could make a difference.

“Does anyone have signal?” A voice cut through the din holding up a cellphone. Panicked voices quickly scrambled to check their own devices while Yara calmly flipped her hand over and looked at her own screen.

She too was without any reception on her cellphone. In fact, the entire device had gone from functioning normally mere moments ago to a black screen that simply stated ‘Not Available’.

Aunt Renata is going to kill me.
Yara’s internal monologue lamented the situation. It was her first time away from home, Brian and Renata had barely let her have a sleepover at a friend’s house. Renalta had always been protective, ever since she and Yara had left Brazil after the death of Yara’s mother. Yara hadn’t been permitted to go on her senior trip in high school, she’d never attended a sleepaway camp and the only reason she was in New York now was because she was twenty-one and Renata could no longer tell the young woman how to live her life.

To some degree, Yara had always felt Renata was scared of her.

Scared of her gifts.

Named after the goddess Iara, it probably shouldn’t have been a surprise to either of them when at the age of nine, Yara managed to tip a tractor trying to find a toy she had lost. From there she had only gotten stronger and faster. Renata had forbidden Yara from participating in athletics through school and so the girl had become something of an outcast in their sports-centric school. It hadn’t been enough that Yara already looked different, but she had to act differently as well and instead threw herself into her studies and arts.

It’s what led her to her studies and Boise State University which brought her back to the moment.

In New York, the concrete jungle where dreams are made of.

Except right now it felt like more of a nightmare. Yara needed to get off of this train and she needed to do so now.

Pushing through the crowd, Yara heard a couple of people curse the woman she forced her way to the closed door. Locking eyes with the attendant, he opened his mouth to stop her before Yara jammed her fingers into the seal, prying the doors apart with the same ease one opens a book.

“Miss you can-”

The words barely registered for Yara as she hopped down from the train, landing on the tracks, unbothered by the electrified third rail before she looked around. People atop the platform were staring at her, horrified and intrigued. Still, with no working cellphones, that meant there were no cameras either.

Moving around to the rear of the train, Yara gave it a shove, watching it move forward a few feet before she pushed it again. Placing her hands on the rear car, she dug her feet into the ground and walked it forward until the train was finally aligned with the platform.

Cheering erupted from amidst the station as people rushed to get a look at their heroine, only to find no one behind the train.

Yara was already gone.

Aunt Renata is going to kill me.

- -First Issue: Behold, A Pale Horse---
Next Issue: TBD-
-


TBD

Location: Boise, - Idaho, U.S.A.
Gods & Mortals #1.02: And Its Rider Was Dead?

Interaction(s): None
Previously: None

TBD

- -First Issue: Behold, A Pale Horse---
Next Issue: TBD-
-
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