[OOC] DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

[Master Bruce]

DC UNIVERSE: GENESIS - JUSTICE FOR ALL

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ A YEAR ONE DC COMICS ROLEPLAY ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

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^{◼ G M (s): Master Bruce, Hillan & HenryJonesJr ◼ ◼ G E N R E: Superhero/Fandom ◼ T Y P E: Sandbox with linear and Collaborative Arcs}

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

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Welcome, fans of the DC Universe. DC UNIVERSE: GENESIS is a sandbox based RP that seeks to allow you to tell the story of the world's greatest heroes from the very beginning. The idea behind this RP is not to embody our favorite 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 favorite characters and re-imagine them to tell their own stories. We only ask that the core of the character remains the same. Players will take the roles of their characters and tell stories either alone or in collaboration with other players in order to develop and grow the world.

T H E SET-UP:

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It is the year 2020. Thanks to the swift action of President Lucas Carr and other world leaders working in tandem, the world has just started to recover from a viral pandemic, originating from the nation of Markovia, that would have otherwise left the worldwide economy crippled. But this regained sense of freedom and return to civilized life comes a dire cost: rampant crime. In major metropolitan cities like Midway, Coast, the twin cities of Central and Keystone, and St. Roch, some of those left financially impacted by the virus have become desperate, and others look to capitalize on the growing sense of paranoia by targeting the defenseless. While the police are militarized in some areas where crime has affected the populace the largest, non-violent citizens are often becoming the victim of oppression from those sworn to protect them, prompting a wave of backlash threatens to dismantle efforts towards peace on both sides of the political spectrum. Now more than ever, the world needs a new type of hero to stand above these ideologies and make the world a better place.

A few select individuals are ready to step up. A young man of Metropolis looks to utilize his vast array of superhuman abilities to stand between the very sources of good and evil. An ageless demi-goddess, meanwhile, draws upon a life of warrior's training to bring peace to a world she has yet to fully understand. Another young man, spurned on by the memory of his murdered parents, takes to the streets of Gotham as a vigilante. And then there are the budding stories on social media that speak to a crimson blur, leaving behind a trail of unconscious purse snatchers and hostile criminals in it's wake. A glowing green light emanates from the heavens, striking down those who would cause harm to the innocent. The seas find themselves protected by a new guardian, who seems to be controlling the marine life at will to prevent pollution and piracy, among other crimes against nature. And there is even the fringe conspiracy theory that we are not alone, given new life by supposed first-hand encounters of a figure that is unlike anything humankind has ever seen.

Will these men and women, or otherwise, become Earth's greatest champions? Or is there a different destiny in store for those who would be called upon to don symbols of their own making, uniforms of a starkly different era, and disguises that allow these heroes to work anonymously? Their ultimate place in this world lies with you.

This is the dawn of something new - the genesis of something yet to come.

C O M M U N I C A T I O N:

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All official discussion and announcements will happen through the OOC, however, for those who prefer a faster-paced place of discussion, or just enjoy getting to know your peers, the game can also be discussed in the former Discord channel for the Absolute Comics RP.

The Discord link can be found here.

THE RULES:

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• All players will initially be allotted one Character Concept, to begin with. This concept may be any character from a main stream comic book. If applying as a 'Team Concept', a combination roster may be allowed at the scrutiny of the GM Team. Characters originally appearing in Competing Comic Imprints, Manga or Anime are heavily discouraged because of their incompatibility with western superhero comics. We will judge all properties from outside of the DC Universe (IE: Vertigo and Wildstorm) on a case-by-case basis provided they fit the themes and tones of the game, but the above limitations are definitive.
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• We will grant a second character concept to players who demonstrate a commitment to the game and a consistent posting schedule.
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• Players can compete for characters if an application for your desired character is posted ahead of yours and has not yet been accepted. To compete for a character, you have a twenty-four-hour window to state your intent to compete. The GM Team will then judge the competing applications.
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• In terms of character creation, you are free to overhaul and redesign any canon character from one of the aforementioned publishers. This means you can tell the story of the character how you believe it should be told. However, there is one major limitation, the heart and soul of the character must stay intact. The character should not be changed so much that they're unrecognizable. This means that Superman can't be a cold-blooded killer any more than Green Lantern can be a rich, well off and arrogant playboy. Every aspect of the character that isn't a key to their major identity is malleable, this can even include sex and abilities if so desired.
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• Player characters are claimed on a first-come, first-serve basis. If the parent character (i.e. Batman to Robin), hasn’t been claimed, the legacy is just as available. If another player comes along and asks about playing the parent, it’s requested that both players be as accommodating as possible to allow the other to express their vision. It is understandable that sometimes two visions will not mesh, and in this case, we will give the player who came first precedence. If a GM needs to step in as a mediator or an arbiter, we can arrange this in a group PM.
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• The 'parent character' or 'acting parent characters' have a say in any further legacies being applied for. For instance, if you were playing The Flash, and another player applied as Wally West, as the established 'parent' character, you are able to voice if the concept compliments your own, or if you would rather the character not be accepted. The GMs will take this into consideration before moving further ahead with any legacy application.
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• Absolutely no 'OOC' chatter in the In Character Thread. If you have a question or anything to explain there is an Out Of Character Thread provided. You have no excuse to make an 'OOC' comment in the IC and if done it will be heavily frowned upon. If you require a more immediate answer, don't hesitate to directly ask the GM Team or relevant player in the Discord.
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• Writing expectations for this roleplay are at least two (2) well-developed paragraphs as a minimum per post. Three (3) to five (5) paragraph posts, however, would be awesome so long as you're not simply chewing the scenery. Proper spelling and grammar is also expected but small mistakes here and there are understandable. Blatant offences will be called out.
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• You are required to post at least once per character within a fourteen (14) day period. There will be a post-check-in, once per week performed by the GMs in order to ensure the IC is moving consistently. Extensions will be given in extenuating circumstances. Please recognize your limitations before joining the RP, if you are unable to post once every ten days, then it's highly likely that you do not have enough time to keep up with the RP. In the event that you do miss the deadline, your character will be listed as 'inactive'. After a further week of inactivity, your character will be expelled, and dealt with as necessary in the IC, whether killed or used as needed and then discarded. This whole process is simply easier if you just let the GM know if you're unable to keep up or simply have lost interest in the RP. If you find yourself in a plot with another player and they disappear, do your best to move on without them and quickly finish the arc to the best of your ability, or ask for the help of a GM.
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• This is a Character-Driven RP, and as such you are encouraged and expected to take charge of your character's sub-plots and storylines. There will be a heavy emphasis on collaborative activities and team building as well. The GMs will be developing a driving plot that will ensure the RP keeps moving and player interaction can become more convenient - however, we do want to see you develop your characters and produce your own plots. That being said, we also don't want to see you lock your character out of interaction and focus solely on your character and their 'world'. Like with all pleasurable activities, no one enjoys watching you play with yourself. It's always better to let someone else join in on the fun.

Rules, OOC and Character Application formats created by @Lord Wraith and @HenryJonesJr

[Master Bruce]

To apply for a character, please utilize the Character Concept Proposal sheet located here.

[Master Bruce]

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 A T M A N

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^{_{Bruce William Wayne .♦ .Vigilante .♦ .Gotham City, New Jersey, USA .♦ .Unaffiliated}}

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

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"The time has come. You know it in your soul."

Fifteen years ago, a double homicide in The Narrows was discovered by the GCPD. When the corresponding address was checked for the tenant's name, few could have imagined a connection to billionaire Phillip Wayne. But the so-called Prince of Gotham did indeed have a brother who had never recieved a cent of their father's blood money, who chose to work towards the betterment of his city by his own accord. And while he and his wife had been taken by a petty thief, the two had a son that survived. A traumatized little boy who would emerge from that apartment forever changed, put on the path towards a quest that would transform him from an ordinary young man into an extraordinary crimefighter. He would learn how to fight against the criminal element that had made Gotham City an uninhabitable hellscape. He would become a master detective, a cunning warrior, and eventually, even a self-styled creature of the night. But like his father before him, he would do it by his own hand, inspired by a legend that has haunted Gotham City for decades - the grim fairy tale known only as The Gotham Bat.

Forget the familiar story. There is no billion dollar fortune, no lavish mansion, no elitist playboy act to galavant around in during the daytime. There's just a man with no extraordinary means, who worked hard to turn himself into something more - something that will tear away Gotham City's evils by the skin of his teeth, giving every ounce of his blood and sweat to do it. How this iteration of Bruce Wayne becomes The Batman is a story that will be told not only through the donning of the cape and cowl, but by the struggle to rise above the level of masked street vigilante to enact real change in a city that preys upon the innocent. It's a journey that will teach him not only the methods he needs to truly be The Dark Knight, but the allies he'll need to cultivate and the enemies that he'll have to endure.

For right now, however, he's still got some kinks to work out. Some equipment to test, some approaches to refine... and a persona to unleash onto the citizens that still think Gotham belongs to the criminals and the corrupt.

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:

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Batman is too significant of a part of me to ignore. He's the focal point of all of my cutural osmosis, to the point of an unhealthy obsession that always brings me back to wanting to write the character and entertaining an endless amount of what-ifs and alternate takes. But the one thing I've never really tackled is how well the character can endure once you strip away all of the elements that make his life entirely unattainable to the common man. After all, the big thing touted about him is that he doesn't have any superpowers. ...as long as you ignore the billions of dollars, celebrity lifestyle, luxury and privilege that allows him to break out the fanciful gadgets and vehicles on a whim.

That's the paradox of his character that drives this version. What is Bruce Wayne if he's not rich beyond belief, shoulder to shoulder with supermodels and escorted by a literal butler that raised him to inherit a dynasty that was never in danger of being taken from him? I don't really know the answer yet, but that's why this take on the origin is an interesting challenge. He's still everything that psychologically and emotionally makes him Batman. He's still a little disturbed and driven by an absolute obsession that puts him back on those streets every night. He still puts on a mask and cape and trys to emulate a giant bat, and eventually he'll start to obtain a few of the familiar elements, like a Batcave, a Batmobile, and even a Rogue's Gallery. He just has to do it without all of the shortcuts that made his journey the great fantasy that it's always been, in a Gotham City that functions even more like the real world than it usually does.

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

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Alfred Pennyworth

Bruce's legal guardian, mentor, and primary confidant. Once employed to serve Phillip Wayne in a variety of roles, the Gulf War veteran had a falling out with the billonaire's abandoning of his nephew and left Wayne Manor to raise Bruce in Gotham proper. In a bid to make up for what he lacked as a father, Alfred potentially indulged Bruce's desire to fight criminals too much and is now an older man filled with regret that has dedicated himself to make penance for his mistakes by ensuring that Bruce remains on a righteous path.

Captain James Gordon

One of the few remaining incorruptible members of the GCPD. A divorcee with a teenaged daughter to raise, Gordon employs a no-nonsense and by the book approach to police work that Gotham has seemed to have long since forgotten. Working in tandem with a small team of officers, including Lieutenants Harvey Bullock and Renee Montoya of Homicide, Sergeants Michael Weurtz, Anna Ramirez, and Gerard Stephens of OCCB (Organized Crime Control Bureau), Detectives Crispus Allen and Kate Kane of Vice, and Officer John Valley, Gordon regularly sees his efforts to clean up the city thrwarted by the heavily corrupt Chief Miles O'Hara, one of the GCPD's many jackbooted thugs that answer directly to Commissioner Gillian Loeb.

Harvey Dent

Current District Attorney of Gotham City. A staunch defender of justice, there are some who doubt the validity of Dent's public persona. While his position against organized crime has remained passionately critical, specifically against Salvatore 'The Capo' Maroni, there are unverified reports that that Dent is on the take along with his contemporaries in City Hall. He's long been a suspect of the OCCB for being Maroni's inside man at the DA's office, but no evidence has ever stuck and Dent has vehemently denied any wrongdoing in the press. Still, that hasn't stopped Gordon's unit from coining a particularly harsh moniker for Gotham's so-called Knight In Shining Armor: Harvey Two-Face.

Vicki Vale

Current reporter for the online edition of The Gotham Globe, Vicki's relentless pursuit to uncover the corrupt members of Gotham's elite and members of office has prevented her career from taking off in the any of the ways she'd hoped. Working under editor Alexander Knox, Vicki is determined to make the Globe a household name to compete with the likes of The Gazette, The Central City Citizen, and even The Daily Planet by putting together the associates of the Falcone Crime Family, their rivals in The Maroni Syndicate, the GCPD and the City Council. To call her ambitious would be an understatement, but Vicki's only goal is to give the people of Gotham a clear indicator of who the bad guys really are.

Lucius Fox

Former head of engineering at Wayne International, Fox now uses his vast skills in mechanical invention to aid Bruce Wayne in his crusade against the criminal element by retrofitting stolen military gadgetry into something that can be of continued use. A victim of crime himself, Fox is confined to a wheelchair after suffering a stroke caused when the court system ruled in favor of his son Luke's murderer, Detective Flass. But whenever Bruce Wayne anonymously gathered and gave the presiding judge all of the evidence needed to send Flass away for the crime, Fox agreed to honor Luke's memory by helping Wayne to make Gotham a better place.

Barbara Gordon

The daughter of Captain Gordon and a current freshman at Brentwood University, Barbara is a newly hired computer analyst and archiver that Lucius Fox brought on to help lighten the load of running his electronics' repair shop, The Fox's Den. An amazingly gifted young woman, Barbara's aptitude for gymnastics, computer sciences, and studies in law enforcement make her a prime candidate to enlist in the GCPD - something that her father forbids, as he believes she doesn't understand the scope of the Department's corruption.

Duke Thomas

A gifted ex-hacker who did time in juvie for aiding a former street tough named Gavin King, Duke's skills once caught the eye of an in-training Bruce Wayne, who now wants to put them to the test for his own means. While Duke is oblivious to Wayne's true identity, he does seem to want to get others like King off of the streets in a way that the cops can't. Duke is currently sitting high on a list of potential allies that Wayne can go to in order to help enhance his war against crime.

Harper Row

Formerly a small-time criminal who freelanced at various chop-shops across Gotham, Harper's put her days of illegal misconduct behind her in a bid to persue her dream of running a mechanic's shop out of The Narrows, affectionately called Bluebird's. Wayne previously relented in providing her information to the police when infiltrating the chop-shop racket to take some of it's members down, as he realized she was only trying to make money to keep her and her brother Cullen afloat, earning Harper's gratitude and a potential favor down the line.

Edward Nygma

CEO of Wayne International, formerly Wayne Enterprises. An overly confident and charasmatic figure that is regularly seen among Gotham's elite, Edward's brilliance is only outweighted by his extremely petty insecurities. Insecurities that led to him systematically orchestrating the murder of Phillip Wayne while the billionaire served out a prison sentence, gaining him enough clout with Carmine 'The Roman' Falcone to take on the leadership position he now exploits to create 'smarter' weapons for the military that focus on psychological warfare rather than brute force. Through Nygma, Wayne International has become a symbol of Gotham's corruption, and it's one that Bruce hopes to take down as much as any cop or member of the mob that terrorizes the city.

Dr. Jonathan Crane

Current director of Arkham Manor, the city's leading criminal psychiatric hospital based out of what was formerly Stately Wayne Manor, Crane's reputation is largely spotless and is considered a leading figure in his field. What no one knows is that Crane is running a highly illegal drug operation with chemist Karl Hellfern, known by his contemporaries as 'Dr. Death' for a seemingly disturbed obsession with decay. Crane himself holds a secret obsession, aswell: exploiting the fears that drive his patients through chemically-induced hallucinatory therapy, a method that has become increasingly sadistic over the years.

Victor Fries

Current ice-themed hitman employed by Salvatore Maroni. Once a brilliant doctor, Fries' life was irrevocably changed whenever he received a diagnosis of an inoperable late-stage brain tumor. Given only a few months to live, he was encouraged by his wife, Nora, to undergo an experimental procedure involving cryogenic chemicals that would be directly injected into his nervous system, with the hope that the cold treatments would slow the growth of the tumor enough to reverse his condition. While it succeeded on that front, Victor's physiology suffered a devastating set of permutations that made it impossible for him to live a normal life. Accidentally killing Nora with a newfound ability to generate cold temperatures by his touch, Fries' emotions have become buried since the loss, making him a particularly dangerous individual to contend with.

Eduardo Dorrance

Formerly serving a life-sentence at Blackgate Penitentiary, the previously unnamed inmate spent years calculating his escape plan by both building his body past any physical limitations and systematically gaining control of the prison's lower levels. Staging a riot, he successfully swam to shore and sought work under The Roman's Empire as hired muscle. Little does anyone know that beneath his towering exterior lies an equally potent sociopath's mind, counting the days down until he can plan yet another takeover.

Killer Croc Jones

Current leader of The Mutant Gang, Waylon Jones has no metahuman abilities of any sort - but he is nevertheless incredibly intimidating, standing at seven-feet tall and having built himself into giant mass of muscle over several prison stints. The most terrifying aspect of Croc's appearance, however, are the all-over body tattoos that have visually erased any appearance of a man and made Jones look more like his scale-adorned namesake. Filing his nails and his teeth to complete the look, Jones is a feral beast ready to claw his way from the bottom of Gotham's underworld to the very top.

Roman 'Black Mask' Sionis

A failed cosmetics mogul turned nightclub owner who moonlights as a deadly cult leader. Sionis is insane, believing that the key to the soul of he and his False-Facers' victims is through torture and disfigurement, shedding their 'masked' selves to become purified in a Biblical sense. Wearing a ritualistic Black Mask during all of his 'sermons', Sionis encourages his followers to collect as many innocent people in Gotham as they can to either be converted to the cause or be sent on their way to the great beyond, as painfully as possible.

The Head Of The Demon

A death cult believing themselves to be acolytes of a long-dead war monger in the Middle East, Ra's Al Ghul. Enacting guerrilla warfare tactics on the level of the Taliban and ISIS, some members have made their way to Gotham City in a plan to make their plight known all across the world. What no one realizes is that their true intent is to resurrect their ancient master through ancient ritualistic mysticism, though it's remained skeptical to most if this is even possible.

The Joker Card Killer

A completely anonymous serial killer that leaves behind victims of all manner, whether they be men, women or children, with a rictus grin and a deck of cards with missing jokers. The extent of this individual's motives are unknown, and no identification has been made in the five years that they've been operating. All that's known about them is that they kill indiscriminately, with no connective tissue linking any of the entire families' worth of bodies that the killer has left in their wake.

S A M P L E P O S T:

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Salvatore "The Boss" Maroni screamed at the top of his lungs as he was thrust into the open air admist shattered glass. The masked lunatic that had thrown the gangster aswell as himself out of the top floor of the penthouse grabbed onto Maroni hard and produced that same grappling device that had sent them hurtling into an over 50 foot drop towards the pavement. Firing it again, this time managing to snag a stone gargoyle overlooking the adjacent building, The Batman pressed hard into Maroni's back so that they swung into an arch, heading directly for the building just across the street.

All that Salvatore could see was oncoming glass before a very large and leathery piece of fabric shielded him from the impact. He couldn't see them hit the window, but he could feel it, aswell as the hard landing that both men made. By the time the fabric unfurled itself off of his face, Maroni realized that he was on his back, staring directly at his shadowy assailant, who stood above him. Salvatore growled.

"ARE YOU OUTTA YOUR FUCKING MIND?! WE COULD'A BEEN KILLED JUST THEN, YOU---"

The Batman's boot slammed down onto Maroni's chest, causing him to involuntarily keel and roll over in immense pain.

"Quiet."

With his prey momentarily incapacitated, Batman searched the room ahead of them. A set of office cubicles greeted him in the darkness, evident of a local business. The employees had long since gone home, leaving no one but a janitor who had already ran for the emergency exit. But The Dark Knight sneered as the heat signature-detection feature of the lenses in his cowl picked up the image of an additional few men heading up the staircase, guns drawn. Evidently, Captain Bolton had managed to round up some of his remaining men to pursue them.

Looking down at Maroni, Batman forcibly grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up.

"We're not done."

Maroni wheezed in pain. "What the hell are you talkin' about?!"

Punching the mobster hard across the face with an executed right hook, Batman caught Maroni's body as it fell limp, immediately rendered unconscious. Letting him fall gently, Batman produced a pair of military-grade handcuffs from the back of his belt and dragged Maroni over to a support beam. Propping him up and placing his hands behind his back, the vigilante secured his captive in place, put something into the front of his jacket pocket, and looked towards the door to the spacious room they were in as the heat signatures immediately approached.

Retreating to the darkness on the opposite end of the room, Batman watched in cold silence as the door was slammed open from the outside with a kick. Several of Flass' dirty cops burst into the room, each holding weapons that were far above standard issue for the GCPD. Laser sights, automatic ammunition. The vigilante narrowed his eyes as they searched for any sign of him in vain. Someone had been outfitting Flass' men with the latest in high-tech ordinance. The other precincts didn't have the luxury of such treatment, and it wasn't hard to guess why. Salvatore Maroni had a good majority of the GCPD under his payroll, directly. It was how the mobster had kept himself one step ahead of his rival, The Roman.

"Look! Over there! There's Maroni!", one of them yelled, signaling two of the men to his opposite. "Get him out of here before that freak comes back! We'll stay here and keep watch!"

As the two men approached, The Batman produced a detonator hidden within his gauntlet. Waiting precious seconds as the cops inched closer to Maroni's unconscious form, the vigilante waited for them to discover the handcuffs.

"Uh, Lieutenant? He's bound to this thing. We're gonna need to..."

Hitting the detonator hard, Batman leaped forward with a roll as an explosion of smoke immediately hit the two cops from within Maroni's jacket. Seizing control of the situation as the smoke coated the entire room, The Dark Knight hit the side of his cowl and switched his cowl's surveillance mode so that the lenses could isolate the smoke and make the room clear to him alone. Immediately slamming his knee into the chest of one of the cops with a rising strike, The Batman spun mid-air and sent four projectiles directly into the hands of two of the other armed officers. He'd taken to calling them "bat-blades", though one of his associates had given them perhaps a more fitting moniker: batarangs. Landing behind the officer he'd struck, Batman downed that one with a hard elbow and immediately followed that up with a brutal headbutt, knocking him into one of the cubicles. Shooting his right leg out, Batman spun for a hard sweep, sending a second one to the ground fast enough for the officer to hit the back of his head. Opting for a palm strike against an oncoming enemy's jaw, the vigilante simultaneously reigned a flying high kick down onto a fourth officer's face, knocking both to the ground. As he regained his footing, he looked down to his chest and noticed the red targeting lasers start to cross his path.

"THERE... *COUGH* THERE HE IS! SOUTHEAST CORNER OF THE ROOM! OPEN FIRE!"

Dammit.

Bullets sprayed the walls behind him as The Batman somersaulted forward, counting himself lucky as a bullet barely grazed the armor plating covering his right shoulder. Leaping into the air, he kicked off of the wall to the south of the room and produced his grapple gun yet again, firing a line directly into the northern wall. Directing a spin kick into an officer as he attempted to reload his weapon, Batman pulled at the line hard, catching the two leading figures of the group by the chest and waist as the steel cable slammed them into the adjacent wall. As another officer rose from the ground, still partially unconscious, the vigilante grabbed a stapler from one of the nearby cubicles and launched it directly into the man's head, sending him back to the ground. One remained. And he was firing off into the distance, having already lost the trajectory of his target. A batarang flew from the smoke and forced the weapon from his hands, embedding it into the window with a spiderweb crack. The officer's eyes widened as he looked at his unreachable weapon, failing to notice the figure that approached him.

"Tell Commissioner Loeb. Tell your fellow men. Tell everyone..."



"I'm coming for them, too."

P O S T C A T A L O G:

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WIP

[mattmanganon]

The Lanterns

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

The Green Lantern

^{_{Hal Jordan ♦ Student ♦ Coast City ♦ The Lanterns}}

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

^{"It isn't easy being Green... Oh wait..."}

This version of Hal is a bit younger, having grown up on the streets of Coast City, he has been in and out of foster homes since he can remember. His father was a test-pilot for the US Airforce, his mother, he doesn't remember anything about. He was always getting into trouble with Officer Stewart, who always tried to keep him on the straight and narrow. It worked for the most part. Hal is known as a sort of Homeless hero, always leaping to the rescue of other homeless that get attacked. Hal has never had a home or anyone to really cling onto as a parent figure. All he can do is keep surviving until he hits 16, when he's allowed to follow his father into the Air Force.

Then, one day he gets a magic ring, and then a man called Sinestro came into his life. Sinestro tells him of the power of the ring, tells him that it is one of 7, Green, Gold, Blue, Indigo, Pink, Orange and Red. He was previously on a team with the other 6 Lanterns, but they were defeated by the Intergalactic Warlord Despero. All he could do was flee to an unknown world and regroup. The Green ring chose Hal and now they need to work together to recover the other 5 rings, lest they fall into the hands of evil.

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:

Hal is a good man that just wants what everyone else seems to have. He wants a family and the power to protect that family. When Sinestro comes into his life, suddenly, he has a father-figure who can teach him about the world, who can care for him and he can care for. He has a school and he has friends, he has a roof over his head. He has these things now and with the power ring, he's going to make sure nobody can take that away from him or anyone else.

But, in order to do that, he needs to find the other rings. They have been scattered across the planet and, according to Sinestro, are laying dormant until they can find someone to latch onto and grant power to. However Despero is on the way and he has an army and advanced Vanguard, alreaady scowering the planet for the rings. If he gets his hands on them, then he will use their power, combined with his own immense dark magics known as "The Pyre" to conquer the universe.

No matter what other stories i try to write, i keep coming back to this idea of a young Hal trying to find his way in the universe with his guide being a man that every other version of him has had their trust shattered by. I really want the opportunity to explore their relationship both as allies as well as, eventually, enemies.

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

Like all heroes, he is only as good as the people around him and the obstacles he overcomes, a quick list of the people you should know about to begin with:

Allies

Thaal Sinestro

Sinestro is the Gold Lantern from the far-off world of Korugar. He was the leader of the Lanterns, a group of people wielding the 7 Rings of Power. Sinestro keeps his background vague, dodging questions about it, claiming his past to be "Too painful to talk about now. Maybe another day." On earth, he uses the alias Thomas Sinclaire.

Carol Ferris

Another of his friends is Carol Ferris, daughter of Carlos Ferris, president of Ferris Industries. 2 years older than him, who he has had an on-again-off-again relationship with since he was sent to a rich foster family living next door to her. He didn't stay with them long, because of how strict their rules were. He still hangs around with Carol sometimes, though her parents hate him.

John Stewart

Somewhat a mentor to Hal, Detective John Stewart, an Veteran from Desert Storm who, after the war, came home and enrolled in the police. He has been looking out for Hal ever since he transferred to the CCPD.

Hector Hammond

Hals only other friend is a petty criminal by the name of Hector Hammond. Hammond is a little fish with big idea's, that he will some day become one of the great heroes of the world, robbing from the rich and giving to the poor. Mostly, it just boils down to him ripping off rich old people with Pyramid scheme's. Hal has had to protect him from angry loan-sharks on more than one occasion.

Dexter

Hal's pet cat from his time on the streets. He found him hiding, shivering and afraid, but Dex warmed up to Hal after he gave him food and drink and someone to snuggle up to for warmth. Dex comes and goes as he pleases, but he hates almost everyone but Hal. He's not sure why, but it might be to do with the scars he has on his body. He's fiercely protective of Hal.

Enemies

Despero

Intergalactic warlord and pirate. Claims to be the rightful ruler of the universe. He commands an immense warship known as Eye of Darkness. Despero's background is shrouded in mystery, but what is known is that he possesses a mean-streak a mile long and is immensely charismatic and is known for his great acts of benevolence, saving whole planets from the brink of extinction, whilst attacking defenseless Thanagarian and Tamaranian merchant vessels. He has been around for quite some time, even being known to have scuffles with the old Kryptonian Grand fleet from time to time. He is an excellent military strategist and a powerful warrior, wielding immense powers known as "The Pyre" The full extent of its power is unknown.

Known Powers:
The Pyre (A mysterious power that nobody is quite sure of the extent of. All that is known is that it is some kind of magic)
Telepathy (When his third eye opens, he can hear the thoughts of anyone he looks at, can see into their very soul, can even control them if their mind is weak enough)
Energy Projection (He can shoot energy beams from all 3 of his eyes)

Lyssa Drak

The mysterious and stunningly beautiful right-hand of Despero. Lyssa is a powerful sorceress, who gets all of her magic from the mysterious book that she always carries with her.

Known Powers:
Sorcery (Lyssa wields immense plumes of golden magics that sprout from her book.)
Future-Sight (Lyssa can predict the future with varying degree's of accuracy.)

Larfleeze

Larfleeze is one of Despero's Lieutenants. Nobody knows where this beast came from or what it has been through to get here. All that is known is that he wears an orange uniform with logo of the Orange Power Ring on his shoulder. He is immensely strong and fast, and is one of the most deadly hand-to-hand combatants in the known universe. He uses a large arsenal of weapons that he has collected from fallen foes.

Known Powers:
Super Strength
Super Durability
Super Longevity (It's unknown exactly how old he is, but records show evidence of his existance 1,000,000 years ago.)

Shark

Shark is a strange one. He is a ruthless, unstoppable killing machine that never says a word. He simply follows any order that Despero gives him to the letter. He is one of Despero's most notorious henchmen.

Known Powers:
Super Strength
Super Durability
Super Stamina
Waterbreathing

Doctor Polaris

The self-proclaimed "Master of Magnetism" Polaris was a former warlord of his planet. When he saw that the planet was dying, he put his best minds to work on a suit that would allow him to save them all by harnessing the planets magnetic poles to do his bidding. The suit was completed, but too late. As he began to use the magnetic field of the planet to guide it away from the sun, his time ran out and he saw death coming for his entire planet. Despero and his ships arrived just in time and saved as many as they could. Polaris' people were moved to a new planet. Polaris, in return, pledged his undying loyalty to Despero.

Known Powers:
Magnetic Control (Polaris is able to use his magnetic powers to control metal, shape it to his whim, even make it explode. This can be interfered with when exposed to extreme heat. If he concentrates, he can create a localised magnetic storm, completely disrupting all electricity in the area and rendering most machines inoperable.)

Paibok

A White Martian working for Despero as one of his Lieutenants. After the culling of his people at the hands of the Green Martians, he infiltraded Despero's ranks in order to influence him into invading Mars and culling the Greens. He, however, had no idea that Despero's Pyre gave him the ability to read minds and he was immediately captured. Despero, however, was very understanding about Paibok's predicament and took the Eye of Darkness to Mars in order to slaughter them, but found that someone had beat him to the punch and the red planet was entirely dead. Still, Paibok holds a deep seated hatred for anything green that comes from that red planet.

Known Powers:
Super Strength
Super Durability
Super Stamina
Flight
Perfect Shapeshifting
Powerful Psionics
Superspeed

S A M P L E P O S T:

It had been a good day for Officer Stewart. Nothing particularly bad had happened. Special Victims was usually a hellish beat, full of rape victims and abused children, but today had been good. One of his "Victims" kidnap victims had turned out to be a hoax from a dissatisfied foster child (Best possible outcome) He had finally gotten a search warrant for a pedophile's house and best of all, the lady at the sandwich shop slipped an extra gherkin into his sandwich without charging. Walking into the station, he nodded to the secretary and smiled as he headed to the elevator. Getting inside, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was going to be a quiet evening of paperwork, the best kind. The lift played the latest cheesy top-40's pop song that had been annoying him for the last 2 months, but he was determined to not let that spoil a perfectly good day. The door opened and he saw, charging towards him, a beaten and bloodied teen. "4532! GET THAT KID!!!" Yelled another officer. 4532 was the code for escaped suspect. Stewart lunged forward, spearing the kid almost out of his shoes and getting him on the ground.

"OOOOOOOH!!!" The kid wheezed "Ya got me..." John began to get up, before realizing who it was he had just brutally tackled.

"Hal?" He asked.

"Sorry, officer, i didn't get the plates..." He groaned as a pair of officers ran up and turned him over, putting cuffs on him.

"Look, Hal, i'm sorry, instincts. Look, boys, what did he do?" He asked. One of the officers looked at John.

"Vigilantism, Theft and resisting arrest."

"Ok, i did 1 and 3, but-" John glared at Hal

"NOT ANOTHER WORD!!!" He grunted. "I'll book him in, i'll get him talking. For the love of god, tell me you read him Miranda?" He asked. The officers nodded. "Again, Hal?" He asked as he pushed Hal towards the booking office.

****

Hal sat in the interrogation room, looking around at the four walls and the 2-way mirror. He had a pair of bloodied tissues up his nose, blood dried on his forehead and a blackening eye and an ice-pack on his head. "COME ON!!! I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY!!!" He yelled. The door opened and John walked in.

"For crying out loud, Hal, what did you do this time?" He asked, walking over and sitting down. Hal just stared.

"Look-"

"Hal, i can't keep protecting you like this. Vigilantism, despite what the Media would have you believe is a crime."

"Bu-"

"Hal, look at me!" John ordered. Hal looked him in the eye. "Theft? That's not something i ca-"

"No!" Hal slammed his fist on the table. "Look, i have done a lot of terrible things in my 15 years on this planet, but i have NEVER stolen anything from anyone!"

"The officer who you lifted the keys from in that Steve McQueen impression begs to differ-"

"Besides the point, i didn't steal anything other than that today" He sighed.

"The report says that you were found with an... Emerald ring?" John asked.

"Yep, and i didn't steal it." Hal replied, burying his face in his hands.

"You found it?" Laughed John.

"Nope..." Hal replied. "It found me." John stared at him with a face that said Well, that's a new one for me "Yeah, i wouldn't believe me either..." He groaned. "But i've got proof." John continued to stare, his poker face not relenting. "That ring was put in evidence, correct?" John flicked through the report.

"Yyyyyyyyes." He replied.

"Then would you kindly explain why it's in my pocket?" He asked, pulling it out of his pocket. John got up and instinctively grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and closed it around the ring in Hal's hand. .

"THE HELL DID YOU DO!?!?!?" He roared. "YOU BROKE INTO EVIDENCE?!?!?" John was clearly fuming, despite Hal not changing his face.

"Nope, i was locked to that chair for half an hour, then i got the keys and immediately bolted for the door. I never had any time to break into evidence. Plus, how many locks are on that door?" He asked. John's face was now just confused. "Alright, now put it in your pocket and walk out..." He said. John was confused, but complied, wrapping up the ring, he put it in his pocket, before walking out. He then looked in through the mirror and saw Hal hold up his hand, dangling the ring in it. John stormed back in.

"How did you do that?" He growled.

"Magic." John looked at him with angered disbelief this time. "Alright, let me tell you the story."

****

2 Hours Ago

Hal walked down an alley on his way back to his current squat, whistling. It was a little cold at this time of the year. He heard someone yelling around the corner and immediately set off at a run. Rounding the corner, he saw an old man being beaten by a man whilst the other one grabbed his wallet. "Hey, leave him alone." The 2 men looked at him, one of them grabbed a pipe. "You want to take on someone, try me, i got more cash than him." Hal yelled. The 2 men ran towards him, Hal ran towards them as well.

Dodging under a swing from the pipe, Hal pressed his feet firmly on the ground, before pressing forward and lunging into the mans chest, tackling him to the ground. As he leaned up and punched the man he tackled across the face, he was grabbed from behind, under his arms. He instinctively went limp, letting his hands flail a little as he tried to slip through the grasp, but it was futile and he was dragged off, before the man he tackled got back up and punched him in the face, before grabbing the pipe and delivering one last blow, leaving Hal on the floor, blood spirting from his forehead, he coughed heavily, a hoarse cough. He tried to crawl to the wall, trying to get up.

"STAY DOWN!" The man called, smacking the pipe into Hal's back and he fell down the wall, before trying to get up again. "Tell you what, this kid doesn't quit. Think you're fucking Hercules or something?" He asked. He tried to get up again as the pipe went into the back of his skull, smacking his nose into brick, he fell down coughing again, this time, a little vomit came out. Blood spraying from his nose. Hal tried to get up again, the world going dark. Then suddenly bright.

"So this is what death feels like..." He giggled in his throes. Then it went Green "Wait, that's different..." Suddenly, everthing felt good... The pain started to melt away.

"HAL JORDAN, I SENSE GREAT WILL IN YOUR HEART! SAY THE OATH AND JOIN OUR RANKS!!!"

Hal opened his mouth as his eyes started to glow

"In Brightest Day, In Blackest Night
No Evil Shall Escape My Sight
Let Those Who Worship Evil's Might
Beware My Power, Green Lantern's Light!!!"

Hal suddenly was stood, staring at the men, his clothes were different. One of the Men began to run. Hal put his hand forward and, bursting from the ring, was a giant hand that streamed forward and wrapped around the man, before pulling him back and hitting his partner in crime with him. The two men sprawled onto the floor. One got up and swung the pipe at him, A Green sword appeared and shattered the pipe in his hands, before another fist appeared and the mugger was down for the count. Hal stood shaking, he looked at his hand and saw the green ring. He pulled it off and the light disappeared, his clothes going back to the bloody, slightly vomit-soiled mess they were previously. At that point, a pair of police rushed into the alley.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" Yelled one of them, pointing his gun at them. Hal threw the ring down and one of the cops grabbed it with a handkerchief and put it into a ziplock bag, before cuffing Hal. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions..."

****

John stared at him again. "What the fuck was that?" He asked.

"Well, if you let me put the ring on, i can prove it-"

"NO!" John grabbed Hal's hand. "Do NOT put that on... Look, i don't know if it is Magic or not, but if you put that on then there's nothing i can do to protect you..." John buried his face in his hands "Alright... Here's the deal... I can reduce the Vigilantism to Defense of Another, i can get the Theft dropped, but you shouldn't have run. Resisting Arrest is only a Misdemeanor, so nothing that will keep you out of the Military, but i will need to turn you over to your foster parents-"

"No deal!" Hal yelped.

"It's that or bye-bye Air-Force." John growled. Hal flexed his fingers in thought.

"What if-"

"You don't get it, do you?" Asked John "There's no negotiation in this, i'm handing you a Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card. You can take it or leave it."

"I can't go back to them..." Hal groaned. "My "Dad" is going to kill me because i set his weed plants on fire."

"Weed as in..."

"Cannabis, Ganja, Kush, Hash, whatever you call it, smokey-feel-good." John stared daggers at Hal.

"If you're lying-"

"It's Bye-Bye Air-Force, i know." Hal leaned back and crossed his arms. John got up and walked to the door, looking out and seeing that nobody was watching. He walked back to the desk and sat down.

"Mention this ring to no-one. There are some fucked up stories going around with what happens to people with things like that..."

"What about the other guys, they'll say i-"

"It was one of these other costumed wackjobs that are crawling out of the damn woodwork... Claim it was anyone else, do not let anyone else know who you are and what you can do. In the meantime... I'm going to get on to investigating your fosters. You'll be held in custody whilst we decide the next course of action." He got up and walked out. "Chin up..." He replied, as he was closing the door.

****

2 weeks later

Hal sat in an office. Today was the day that he would meet his new Foster parents. He sat at the desk and let out a sigh. He was already making plans for an escape. The door opened. "Hal, this is Thomas." the Social Worker said. "We know that you have had a real problem with multiple authority figures, so we thought that a single parent might be more your speed." The man that walked in was not what Hal expected.

"Hello, Hal. It's nice to meet you." The man said with an emotionless face. "Can we have a moment alone?" He asked. The Social worked smiled and nodded, before leaving the room. Thomas walked over to the door and made sure the woman wasn't looking in. She had gone to get a coffee "Alright, Hal, let me level with you, i'm not a foster parent." He said.

"Thank god?" Hal asked with a confused expression. "Or is this one of those "Waking up in a bathtub full of ice without my liver" things?" Thomas stared at him, not understanding what he was saying.

"I'm like you." He said, completely ignoring what Hal had just asked. He showed him the Golden Ring

"I... Don't know..."

"In brightest day, in blackest night..." Thomas said.

"You know? Are you a Green Lantern too?" He asked.

"No, you are THE Green Lantern. I'm the Gold Lantern."

"Gold is so much cooler than green..." Hal sighed.

"I was the leader of the Lanterns until recently, when your predecessor was killed. The Rings look for those most worthy to wield them. You have been chosen. If you want to know more, then you tell that social worker that you're happy to come home with me... If you want me to take the ring and give it to someone else, give you your life back, I can do that... Your choice." For Hal, time stopped. What the hell was he supposed to do? If he went with this man then he was opening up the pandora's box that he couldn't close... The door opened and Hal launched himself into Thomas' arms, embracing him in a hug.

"I love you, daddy!" He yelled. The Social Worker dropped her coffee.

[Hound55]

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 A N D M A N

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^{_{WESLEY DODDS ♦ RETIRED INVESTOR / VENTURE CAPITALIST ♦ NEW YORK ♦ FORMER J.S.A. OPERATIVE}}

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

---

^{“Once upon a time, I dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes
a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was myself. Soon I awaked,
and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a
butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.” - Chuang-Tzu}

The 1940s in New York City.

A young man named Jackie Robinson is breaching the color barrier in baseball for the Dodgers.

The BROOKLYN Dodgers.

Joe Louis' career is in its twilight, afterwards the Brown Bomber would retire as one of the greatest heavyweights ever to grace the ring. In the pound-for-pound stakes Sugar Ray Robinson is partway through what would become one of the most remarkable unbeaten streaks ever.

But it was the mythology of fighters outside of the squared circle that would captivate many.

In 1948, rumours spread like wildfire about a 'Mystery Man' clad in a long coat, old World War I gas mask and brandishing a 'gas gun' which he could use to either put bad men to sleep or give them nightmares. Claims of drawing out confessions and truth from the lips of criminals in a sleep state also spread amongst the good people of Manhattan.

A silent protector, watching over Manhattan whilst she would sleep.

A Sandman of the folklore borne to a city in need. From time to time there were sightings. Claims of a masked face turning, a figure disappearing in a plume of mist. An urban legend. A civilized city's Chupacabra.

Then the random appearances became few and far between. It was the fifties, and J. Edgar Hoover had diverted resources to generate a concerted effort for an elite investigation taskforce. Clean-cut men who specialized in methods of criminology at the forefront of innovation! J. Edgar spurned the terms "Science heroes" and "mystery men", he wanted a team of good men without flashy standouts seeking fame. He would have them... by any means available, and would be willing to use the full weight of the United States Federal Government.

These men were each brilliant in their own fashion, but would remain faceless. It would be the unit as a whole that would be the aspiration for a new young generation of clean-cut American kids. There would be no Flash. All substance. No names. Just the squad. All glory to the "J-Men", Hoover's Justices for the Society of America!

Now it is well over half a century later. Legend of the Sandman's past has largely been relegated to the darker conspiracy-based corners of the internet.

Wesley Dodds still has his money. He still has his house. His big empty house, and the voices, ghosts and dark dreams of a life more lived than most.

His memories are rapidly fading with age and now his waking moments are becoming more and more consumed by the chaos of dreams...

...and when Wesley Dodds is confronted by the violent murder of one of his former squad, there's only one way he knows how to respond.

But what hope does an enfeebled hero, furthermore one grabbing so desperately to the fast-fading threads that connect him to reality, have for one last chance at glory and to get justice for a fallen comrade?

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 character's motivations will become clear as the first arc drops. As they do, I intend to add to the CS on the go, so I'm not spoiling my stuff.

As for my own motivations, I'm looking to delve into a man who is himself collapsing INTO the state of dream itself.

And as for how/where the character's story is going to go? It'll be set in the backdrop of a classic ol' pulpy murder mystery.

Cliches exist for a reason.

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

---

Origins of the JSA
I'm thinking '50s-'70s. With the Justices for the Society of America, also known as "Hoover's J-Men" being an elite group of "Mystery Men", conscripted often against their will by Hoover to be the indomitable elite force he first envisioned the FBI to be.

The team dissolved after a less than completely successful incident involving a mysterious figure the JSA archives name as Per Degaton (after which, if reports are to be believed, a number of team members experienced considerable resistance to the usual aging process).

Numerous JSA agents were scattered across short term time, making it impossible for theif handlers to track them down. Those conscripted against their will seized the opportunity to slip away, and by this time Hoover had left, his replacements' influence had waned after a revolving door of Acting Directors and Watergate. The FBI's shadowy reputation left so much to be desired that new FBI Director Clarence Kelley made no attempts to track them down, as he instead focused on repairing the damage done to their image by his predecessors.

Former J.S.A. Agents
Jay Garrick
Ted Grant
Rex Tyler
Alan Pratt
Ted Knight
Johnny Thunder
Terry Sloane
Charles McNider

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

January 17th, 1949 - Manhattan, NEW YORK - Light snowfall

1948. It had been a hectic year. Truman had signed the Marshall Plan, which would provide $5 billion in aid to 16 wartorn European countries in dire need in the wake of World War II. It would give a boost to infrastructure and business, remove trade barriers and form the base capital to modernize industry…

...particularly when combined with foreign investment.

The next four years would see the most rapid growth in European history. And would form a large part of my own personal holdings over the next decade. I had invested in the region because I saw it as the opportunity to do the most good with my father’s legacy, the potential for growth merely sweetening the pie.

Truman had also signed Executive Order 9981, ending racial segregation in the US Armed Forces. Five years before the desegregation of schools would make any major headway and allow equal opportunities to live and learn, it would be made the law of the land that all men who can bleed red for this land can fight side-by-side.

Between brutality and life; this country, this city still has questionable priorities.

That brutality is why I find myself there, on that fire escape, whilst the rest of the city slept. One man, facing this city’s darkest nightmares, so that the innocent could dream peacefully.

Senator Margaret Chase Smith had the gall to speak out against the witch hunts that were being perpetrated in the name of Senator Joseph McCarthy and his HUAC. Senator Smith was the first woman to be elected to both houses of Congress, and is a lively driven woman, reminding me very much of Dian.

At least she had been a very lively woman prior to her abduction…

She’d passed comment to the wrong person at a fundraiser, prior to making her public denouncement of the HUAC’s activities, and the wheels had been put in motion to remove the dissenter before she would have the opportunity to make a problem.

Again, that’s why I found myself there, on that freezing fire escape, counting the kidnappers and waiting for the right spread across the upscale apartment building to make my move with the minimum chance of the Senator being caught in the crossfire.

I watched as one particular criminal crossed the floor to go to the kitchen, giving an opportunity to put myself between the bound Senator and the rest. I watched as my moment fell into place.

I crashed through the window and took the space in front of her. Thick gas dispersed into the crowded apartment.

Shouting and calls of “Get him!” and “Shoot him!” gave further proof to the brutality of these men and the world they would inhabit given the choice.

I heard a voice emanate from my mask that I barely recognized as my own, the ethereal tones the final thing these brutes would hear before drifting into unconsciousness.

“< There is no escaping the Sandman’s Dark Dream… >”

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

Obviously, to be expanded as we go.

[Retired]

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 U P E R M A N

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^{_{C L A R K K E N T ♦ J O U R N A L I S T ♦ M E T R O P O L I S ♦ D A I L Y P L A N E T}}

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

---

Twenty-five years ago in Smallville, Kansas the sky fell. It wasn't a major event, the sole meteor that had apparently arced across the sky barely made the local news. Just a momentary light show in the early dawn hours noticed by a scant few.

Of those few, it was Jonathan and Martha Kent, newlyweds, who noticed the falling object suddenly halt its descent, hover, and slowly lower to the ground. It was they who discovered the young boy, bundled in red cloth, nestled within the egg-shaped, metal craft. And they were the ones who later dragged the ship away to conceal its presence.

The couple decided to keep the newborn and pass it off as their own flesh and blood, isolating Martha at their farm until the child's "birth." They raised the boy, Clark, as they would any other, keeping the knowledge of his true origin secret from all.

Clark had an amazing childhood by all considerations. He had doting parents. He had his friends, especially Lana Lang - his next-door neighbor - and Lex Luthor - who he would consider almost an older brother. In high school, he would join the Smallville Crows and follow in Jonathan's footsteps as a star quarterback.

It wasn't until his early teen years that Clark ever had reason to suspect he was different. He discovered his near-invulnerable skin one night while cliff jumping. Clark had misjudged the angle of his leap, overshooting his target by a dozen feet, and collided with a large boulder. While he had suffered no damage the rock wasn't as fortunate.

Subsequently, his parents sat him down for a long conversation where they explained he was adopted. That they didn't know his birth parents but they knew Clark was special and unique. Over the next two years, Clark's abilities further developed to which Jonathan and Martha stressed the need for him to be careful and secretive. His secret didn't last for long, however.

At sixteen, Lana discovered the dangers of texting while driving. She also discovered her new boyfriend was more than meets the eye when Clark saved her from colliding with a tree with not a moment to spare. Worried about how she would view him now, he was happily surprised to find in her the confidant he desperately needed.

That same year, Lex graduated and left Smallville. Although the two promised to keep in touch, Clark knew the two would be heading in different directions in life. Lex, brilliant beyond belief and already starting his own business, would make a name for himself in the world. While Clark believed his future was destined for a life on the farm.

Days before his high school graduation, Clark's life was rocked by the revelation of his true nature. The Kents finally revealed to their son the spacecraft that had brought him to Smallville. While he didn't blame his adoptive parents for keeping this from him, Clark knew nothing would ever be the same for him. Needing to discover himself, Clark followed Lex's path two years before and left Smallville.

For seven years, Clark traveled the extent of North and South America. He paid his way by writing travel blogs for The Daily Star and sent weekly letters to his parents back at the farm. Throughout his journey, Clark found many people in need and did his best to help out in any way he could. More often than not, he would find himself needing to use his abilities to save or improve a life. In these circumstances, he would always take great care to avoid detection, remembering his parents' words of warning. Any evidence or trail he left behind he ensured would appear as natural circumstances or sheer, dumb luck.

It was these moments where Clark felt he truly belonged to this world and could reconcile his alien heritage with his given humanity.

Recently, Clark has decided to end his travels and begin to settle down into a proper life. After a return to Smallville to spend time with his parents, Clark now makes the move to Metropolis, the City of Tomorrow, where he feels he could make the best start at his future.

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:

---

_{NOTE: Bare with me, there's important changes to discuss.}

I used to love Superman stories when I was younger. I was such a fan that several of my earliest internet handles were Superman-themed. But as I got older I grew bored with the character. His stories were always the same, and, for the most part, I saw they were relegated to simple tales of "strong man punches another strong man" or "near god does miracle that invalidates everything else." That's not what first drew me into the character when I was younger and not what I wanted to see.

I've never tried to play Superman before in one of these games. Not that I never had an interest in reimagining the character but because these RPs always, always have had history to them. They would start in a world that has been super for years. But with this game, with a true year one approach, I recognized that I finally had the opportunity to approach Superman as I feel is the most interesting. Which isn't the story of Superman wrestling with his humanity. It's a story of Clark Kent coming to terms with his alien nature and the powers that come with that.

I hate that most Superman comics approach the character as Superman first with Clark Kent as the alter ego. That's not the heart of the character, I feel. And it's not how I will be writing him. Clark Kent is the true character and the center of his existence. Superman is just the identity he dons when necessary. As such, my Clark Kent is different from the classic versions. He's not meek and bumbling. He doesn't (yet) wear glasses or purposefully make himself less interesting. While he's naturally soft-spoken, this is a Clark who isn't trying to conceal another identity. Not yet, at least.

I do plan on having him don the suit. He will become Superman. And soon. This isn't Smallville, as Hound feared, I'm not going to keep him away from the cape forever. In fact, by the end of the season (if those exist here) I want him to accept his role as a public hero. But, until then, I want to build up to that moment. I want it to feel like Clark is coming to terms with what it means to be a hero. I want it to feel like an earned moment and not just an inevitability.

To that end, the start of this story is going to be following Clark Kent as he starts his new life in Metropolis as a reporter for The Daily Planet. It's going to show Clark learning to balance his real life with his extracurricular life-saving adventures he's now gotten used to over the last seven years. He's going to meet new friends and adversaries in his daily life, and reunite with Lex Luthor. And, until he becomes Superman at the end of the season, he's going to primarily be facing the seedy underworld of Metropolis and the inherent, human dangers within. After all, this is year one and I don't want there to already be a dozen metahumans and supervillains running around the city. Again, that's something I want to naturally build up to.

Overall, I intend to approach playing Clark Kent and Superman both in a modernist, grounded manner. I'm stripping Clark of several of his abilities, some of which he will develop later, most of which will be depicted to a lesser degree than is typical for the character - though still super. Starting off, Clark can't fly nor does he possess heat vision. He can bend steel with his hands and move fast enough to appear as a blur, but he won't be bench pressing any planets. He will face real physical challenges and he will be in danger. I want you the readers to actually wonder if he's going to make it out of a situation unharmed and not just expect him to breeze through without worry.

This is not going to be a traditional Superman tale. But I hope it is viewed as a good one.

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

---

_{NOTE: This will be updated as each post reveals new characters and plots. Otherwise, things will be basic to as to avoid spoilers.}

Jonathan and Martha Kent

Clark's adoptive parents. They instilled within their son great morals and values, and are very supportive of him. Though, Jonathan is slightly more concerned about hearing of Clark's adventures. Clark exchanges texts, emails, and letters with them frequently. They are in their early fifties and very much alive in this continuity.

Lex Luthor

In this universe, Lex didn't come from money. He was born in Smallville. His father, Lionel, was a verbally abusive drunk. He has alopecia causing hair loss and resulting in years of teasing as a child. He befriended Clark in middle school and the Kent family was an incredibly positive influence on his life; he spent more time on their farm than at his own house during his teen years and views Jonathan and Martha as second parents.

He has always had a love for space and dreamed of exploring the stars one day. At sixteen he created his first app. At nineteen he sold a popular encrypted communications app for nine figures. At twenty-one, his company, L-Corp, was an innovator in clean energy. By twenty-two, Lex had become the youngest self-made billionaire ever. Soon after, he created his new company headquarters in Metropolis as a solar tower to prove clean energy was not only viable but superior. In 2017 he announced L-Corp would be branching out into aerospace manufacturing and space transportation. Professing his dream for humanity to transition to the stars, Lex promises a private, manned space flight to the moon by 2021.

A known philanthropist, Lex is a popular public figure highly present on social media. However, he likes to keep details of his personal life private and has refused every attempt at an interview.

After leaving Smallville, he and Clark kept in touch for two years until the latter's own personal journey of self-discovery. Since then, Lex has received letters similar to the ones Clark would send the elder Kents, but they have not seen one another in over seven years.

Perry White

Former Pulitzer prize winner and the long-standing editor-in-chief at The Daily Planet. Due to the Planet failing and falling on hard times in recent years, Perry is desperate for new, fresh blood. He recently hired Clark Kent, former travel blogger for the online magazine The Daily Star.

Lois Lane

An investigative journalist at The Daily Planet. Known for her aggressive pursuit of a lead and no-quit attitude. Something that has gotten her into trouble at other publications prior to Perry White giving her a break. Has a penchant for digging up corruption and several accommodations to show she's good at reporting on it. Has been trying to get an interview with Lex Luthor regarding his space program for two years.

James Olsen

Nineteen-year-old university student and intern at The Daily Planet. An aspiring photojournalist, he has thus far been relegated to coffee duty more than anything else. Sticks closely to Lois Lane who he sees as a mentor, though he does wish she'd stop calling him Jimmy.

Cat Grant

Young college grad and single mother. Currently, the columnist for the Entertainment and Arts section at The Daily Planet, though she has aspirations to be a 'real' reporter. Her bright and cheerful demeanor brings a much-needed levity into the Planet's bullpen.

Lana Lang

Childhood best friend of Clark's and one-time high school girlfriend. To this day, she is the only one outside of the Kent family to know about his abilities. Although they are not as close as they once were due to the seven years apart, they remain in contact with one another through social media. She is currently a fashion designer in New York City.

To be updated.

S A M P L E P O S T:

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The bright, flashing colors exploding above the Metropolis skyline caught Clark's attention as he typed away. The Fourth of July celebration marked not only the birthday of America but also the day the virus rampaging through the country was finally and totally stomped out.

Tens of thousands afflicted with hundreds dead in America alone. If not for the swift actions of President Carr the loss of life could have been astronomical. Clark was thankful for people like Ted Kord and organizations like S.T.A.R. Labs who from the start of the pandemic openly and loudly encouraged for safe, responsible measures to be taken. While he was sure he would have been largely safe from most Earth-born viruses, having never gotten sick a day in his life, the young man had been worried for his parents.

Though, even without his apparent immunity to illness, he'd have been perfectly alright in Metropolis. Lex Luthor had ensured that.

From the earliest moments, the City of Tomorrow's most famous resident had pledged tens of millions of dollars to the cause. And as the days went on, Lex proved his actions weren't purely for the good publicity as he continually devoted resources to supplying the city with as many appropriate medical supplies as could possibly be needed. Metropolis had had just one case of the virus in the very first week, with the individual quickly recovering, and then for the remaining several months not a single other reported case. Unlike the rest of the country who had still been undergoing quarantine procedures until just a month earlier, Metropolis had managed to safely reopen in the span of just three weeks.

Lex Luthor was without a doubt a hero to this great city, Clark thought.

He cast a glance out of The Daily Planet's windows. From his spot in the bullpen, even without his superior eyesight, Clark could make out the outline of L-Corp's tower off in the distance. Its constant soft glow like a beacon of hope, the golden explosions of sparkling lights above it giving a halo-like appearance.

If someone had told Clark over a decade ago that Lex Luthor, the frail, socially awkward boy from Smallville, would go on to save hundreds of lives... Clark would have told them those numbers didn't do his friend justice.

As the new, junior reporter for The Daily Planet put the finishing touches on his story about Metropolis' savior, he leaned back and smiled in his chair. Grabbing his half-empty glass from the desk, he raised a toast to the building across the skyline.

"Here's to you, brother."

P O S T C A T A L O G: _______________________________________________ WIP

[Simple Unicycle]

I've been frantically smashing my fingers against the keyboard for about four hours to get this out quickly, and I think that I'm content with it now.

EDIT: Sample post now up.

... Third Time's The Charm?

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

T H E Q U E S T I O N

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^{_{V I C T O R S A G E ♦ J O U R N A L I S T ♦ H U B C I T Y , I L L I N O I S ♦ H U B C I T Y G A Z E T T E}}

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

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^{"In the face of evil, what can one man do?"}

Orphan. Street urchin. Thug. Reporter. Raging asshole. These are all words that have applied to Vic Sage at one point or another. His early life was rough, in and out of foster homes or on the streets, doing what he had to do to survive and developing a strong hatred for the crimes he took part in. Even with his rough childhood, he managed to pull through and make his way into college where he cleaned up his act somewhat; mostly due to the influence of one of his professors, Aristotle Rodor, who became something like the father he never had. Out of college, he got a job as a journalist for the Hub City Gazette, his hometown's oldest newspaper, first writing fluff pieces before rising in the ranks until he was solely responsible for the paper's coverage on crimes in the city.

The recent pandemic forced Victor to work from home. Hub City, already a simmering cesspool of crime just waiting to erupt, finally let itself loose during the quarantine. Through a window in his apartment, Victor watched rioting and looting in the streets, a hot rage burning through his blood. Someone needed to do something about it. One restless night, he took a drive down to Hupert Memorial Park and was jumped by a group of thugs. After a long, drawn-out fight, he found himself standing over the unconscious and battered bodies of the men. He knew what he had to do now.

From that day forward, Victor was a vigilante. He went to Rodor for help in this crusade, the two designing a mask for Victor using one of Rodor's failed inventions: a skin-like substance that hid covered Victor's face and made it seem like it was completely blank. For an alias, he picked the Question, inspired by his constant campaign as a reporter for the truth. With everything in order, Vic began his new life as a vigilante, reporting injustice by day and wiping scum off the streets by night.

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:

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I'm not gonna pussyfoot around it: every time that I've tried to play the Question in these games, it's flopped horrifically. Usually, the problem is that I have no direction to go or a story to tell beyond some basic premise and I just hope that my characterization can carry it. People have enjoyed my posts in the past but I've always felt unsure of where I wanted my runs on the character to go, usually resulting in me abandoning the character and game after a few posts because I wrote myself into a corner extremely quickly.

But this time, I know what I want to do. I have two major arcs in mind, one relatively planned out and a followup to it in a conceptual stage. Vic will be going up against a serial killer in Hub City in his first big case as the Question. Without spoiling anything, a generic thriller plot will ensue; after all, can't get too risky for the first arc. The followup will be a bit more unconventional so that I can test my mettle and prove that I have a solid take of the character on my hands. Hopefully, when all is said and done, I'll be proud of what I've done.

When going into a character in these sorts of games I usually have some sort of inspiration outside of the comics and this time is no different. My biggest inspirations are the 2005 video game Condemned: Criminal Origins and the 1995 film Seven. If you're familiar with either of those works, then you know this run will be pretty dark. I don't intend to go overly edgy and grimdark but the nature of the stories I want to tell might take me in that direction. However, just because I'm telling a dark story doesn't mean there won't be levity and light-hearted moments, and I hope to balance the dark psychological thriller storytelling with likeable characters and some humor.

Oh, and I'm keeping the synthwave soundtracks from my last run on the character because I felt it gave my posts a distinctive touch.

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

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Supporting Cast

Allies
Aristotle Rodor - Vic's father figure, friend, and invaluable ally in his crusade. A former college professor and scientist, now retired. The designer of the Question's mask.
Samuel Starr - Editor in chief of the Hub City Gazette and Vic's boss.
Albert Kert - A co-worker of Vic's and writer of an advice column, "Al's Advice".
Nora Lace - A new co-worker of Vic's, fresh out of college.

Enemies
None to speak of yet.

Will be updated as Vic gains (and loses) allies and enemies.

Vic's Mixtape

S A M P L E P O S T:

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Issue #0

_{Location and Time: Hub City, Illinois; Hupert Memorial Park - 1:47 AM, Two Months Ago}

Issue #0: Run

---

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: None

Dim lampposts lit up the streets. The music emanating from my stereo and the sound of my tires rolling along the asphalt were the only noises on the street. It was the dead of night, a time when the only people out and about were crooks or crazies, sometimes both. Guess I was a crazy. I wasn't sure what exactly made me go for a late-night drive through Hub City. Part of me thought that it was insomnia. I hadn't slept in about two days. The apartment was too claustrophobic, too familiar. I needed a change of pace. But that wasn't it, not entirely. There was something in the back of my mind, screaming at me to do something. I didn't know what. I guess I would find out.

I glanced up at the sky through my windshield. Clouds were settling in. A storm was coming. I continued driving. Before long, I found myself parking along the sidewalk and stepping out of my car. I recognized where I was. Hupert Memorial Park. Sidewalks separated by grassy fields dotted with trees, all leading to a bronze statue in the center. The statue was defaced and vandalized, covered in graffiti, and missing vital parts of itself. Where once a monument to the man who founded Hub City stood was now a testament to how far his dream had fallen. What happened to this city?

Lucky for me, I didn't have time for a mental monologue on the state of the city and its inhabitants. A noise to my right. Footsteps, three sets of them. I turned and came face to face with three degenerates covered in sweat and grime. They each held different weapons: a wooden baseball bat, a lead pipe, and a crowbar. Bat, Pipe, Crowbar. They had a look in their eyes like this was their last resort, but they were fully willing to do this. Giving in to their darkest temptations, hurting others to get what they want. I sneered slightly at the thought.

The sound of thunder could be heard in the distance as it began to rain. "I'm gonna be straight with you, man," Pipe said, stepping ahead of the others. "We don't wanna hurt you. But we will. We want your wallet and the keys to that car."

Fighting three armed opponents without a weapon was suicide. My eyes darted around for a weapon of any kind. I spotted a tree about fifteen feet ahead of them with a sturdy looking branch hanging onto it by a thread. That'll do. "Sure. You can pry them from my cold, dead hands." I stood my ground, raising my fists slightly.

Pipe sighed in defeat and shook his head. "Fine. Have it your way. I asked nicely." Before I knew it, they were closing in on me, each with weapons raised and ready to swing. I ducked out of the way of Pipe's swing and shoved him into Bat, the two of them stumbling back and Bat falling onto his ass. Crowbar jabbed his weapon forward and I grabbed hold of it, yanking him to the side. His grip wasn't letting up, so I swung him away then ran towards the tree. Getting that branch was my best bet.

... Getting a weapon was my best bet? Why the hell didn't I just run for the car? I needed to prioritize my safety first. But some part of me wanted to see these men punished for what they've done. They had to have done this before. Beaten people to a pulp for their valuables. Might have killed. I need to teach them a lesson.

I was at the tree. I grabbed the branch and pulled it off, before turning it over in my right hand like a club. Sturdy, heavy. With both hands gripping tight, I turned to face my attackers. They were sprinting towards me. Labored breathing, they're gonna be winded by the time they reach me. Big mistake. Bat was the first to reach me, raising his weapon before bringing it down. I raised the branch and blocked the blow, before pushing back and sending Bat off-balance. I swung the branch into his jaw, hearing a sharp crack as it connected. Bits of bark splintered off and stuck themselves into his face and he collapsed on his hands and knees, cursing and sobbing in pain. I swung again and it was lights out for him.

I didn't have time to celebrate my victory as I felt a sharp blow in the side of the head. My vision went blurry and my ears began to ring as I was knocked onto the floor, my weapon falling out of my grip and rolling away. My eyes focused just in time to see Pipe's foot raised and ready to stomp on my head. I raised my hands to cover my face, slowing down his foot and allowing me to get a grip on it. I pushed back and he fell away from me onto the floor. As I got up I barely managed to sidestep out of the way of a swing from Crowbar.

"JUST FUCKIN' DIE ALREADY!" Crowbar snarled, swinging wildly in every which way. I fell to my hands and knees and scrambled out of the way, grabbing hold of the baseball bat. I brought it up just in time to block one of his swings, putting a deep crack in the bat. He reeled back from the sudden loss of momentum and I swung the bat upwards into his chin, snapping his head back and sending him to the floor. I walked over to him and raised the bat, bringing it down on his head, knocking him unconscious and breaking my weapon in half at the same time.

Pipe had recovered and grabbed his weapon just as I took hold of the crowbar. He had no fear in his eyes, even after I had taken out his friends. He had nothing to lose and we both knew it. With a yell, I charged forward to deliver the first blow, swinging the crowbar at his side. He backed away before jumping forward with a downward swing that I barely managed to parry with a swing of my own. Off-balance, he tried to swing wildly at me. I crouched down to avoid it, then swung the crowbar at his feet, making him slip and fall onto his hands and knees.

Dropping the crowbar, I grabbed him by the shoulder and picked him up. I stared into his eyes for a moment. They still held no fear, even as I reeled my fist back. "Take this you son of a bitch!" I sucker-punched him right in the nose, audibly breaking it and sending him back to the floor. He was out of commission. My quick, sharp breaths and the cracks of thunder were the only noises in the park now. I looked up to the clouds as the rain poured down on me. It felt rejuvenating.

I raised a hand to the side of my head to touch my wound, wincing and cursing as I felt a sharp pain. The adrenaline hadn't worn off but it still hurt like hell with just a slight touch. That meant bad things. I brought my hand in front of my face and saw slick blood on my fingertips. Shit. I needed a doctor. Good thing I knew a guy with some medical training not far from here.

I stumbled over to my car, opening it and collapsing into the driver's seat. I started it up and began the drive to Tot's house, hoping I wouldn't pass out from blood loss along the way. As I drove away from the scene of the robbery-turned-triple-assault, I thought back on why I came here. Maybe this was why. Some part of me knew those guys would be there, knew that I needed to feel like I was doing something worthwhile. Beating the shit out of them didn't just ensure they wouldn't hurt anybody for a while, it felt cathartic.

I snorted to myself. Shit, I'm sounding like some sort of psychotic killer now. Still, there was no denying that doing that made me feel good. It wasn't just the beatdown, of course, it was also the knowledge that I had probably saved more than a few lives by stopping them. Thinking about that gave me a high like no other, and in a world like this, I could use that high more often.

Maybe I made a mistake becoming a journalist: vigilantism was more my cup of tea.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

Issue #0: Run (See Above)

[Hillan]

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

G R E E N L A N T E R N

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^{_{ALAN WELLINGTON SCOTT ♦ ENGINEER ♦ NOMADIC ♦ THE STARHEART}}

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

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^{"I am the Shield Of Solidarity. The Sentinel of the Starheart."}

Alan Scott is an average 30-something Engineer when his world collapses in front of him. Not so much in the non-literal sense of "My world came crashing down" as it was 'the train me and my fiance are in is exploding'. Alan's Fiance is pronounced dead, as is every other passenger on the scene. He survives, and he isn't completely sure why. He remembers the fire. But he doesn't remember it scorching him. He remembers it soothing him. Saving him. Giving him purpose.

He remembers the green energy-battery he found on that train, how he reached for it as he jumped out of the train cart he was in, onto the next. How holding onto the lantern had saved his life.

He didn't understand any of it. Hell, even in time, he couldn't believe it. He's now left in a world that doesn't make sense to him, given new purpose. A purpose he perhaps doesn't see yet.

And the strange old man in the blue and gold he keeps having visions of sure isn't making things any easier for him.

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:

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I want to write Alan because frankly, I know nothing about Mr. Scott. I've never gotten the chance to tackle the Lantern Mythos, and I think I have a upheave of content to provide on the subject. It's such a deep lore that often goes unexplored, in my opinion. And most of the unused concepts focus on Alan, not on Hal or Kyle. Everyone's written stories about the Green Lanterns being intergalactic police. Very few have written stories about a Green Lantern being a novice mage tapping into the fact that the Green Lanterns are steeped in magic.

Alan is a skeptic. He doesn't believe in magic. He's a realistic and believes in things like math, not sorcery. At least in the beginning. He's given the power of the Starheart and with it, he possesses one of the most powerful magical artifacts in the universe. It's his job to figure out how to use it, and use it for good. And in doing so, he'll come across the old man who will serve as his mentor and guide him through his foray into the unnatural.

My goals with Alan is to tell pulpy Supernatural stories. Equal parts Doc Fate from Earth-20, MCU's Doctor Strange and straight up detective stories, all mixed into with the Green-Ringed hero we all known.

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

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Additional Cast:
Rose Forrest: Fiance and love of Alan's life. Taken from him, and with it, any chance he had at a normal life.

Starheart: The sentience given to the magic captured by the Guardians millions of years ago. It was locked away on earth, only now revealing itself. Confined to the Green Lantern Battery, it's will is felt through it's chosen champion via the ring worn on his hand. The Starheart is doing what it can to influence Alan, albeit subtly at first. Like someone who's just woken up, the Starheart's actions are vague and without direction, but will in time pick up speed. Becoming Alan's greatest ally. Or his most impossible foe.

Kent Nelson: The Former Doctor Fate. Now hunting down the shards of Nabu in an effort to reforge the agent or order and the protector of Earth from magical threats. A role that he will teach Alan to fill-in for him while he's looking to restore Fate.

Molly Mayne: Ex-Girlfriend from College. 'The one who got away'. Find Alan after his apparent demise, she works as an independent journalist and is out for the story on the Green Lantern, and to rekindle the flame between her and Alan, unaware that the two would be the same.

Richard Swift: Lab Partner and friend since High School. Swift and Scott have drifted apart in the years since they both left college, Swift is now working as a tech-based thief, going by the dark web alias 'Shade'.

Elaine Belloc: Granddaugter of the Pressence. Daughter of Michael. Nephilim and destined to rule all of the cosmos. If there ever was a personification of 'out of your league' it would be Elaine. She teaches Alan about the occult and makes him a far better warrior, and man.

The Seven Demons: The evil that's primarily the focus of Alan's first foray into magic. They are spreading mischief, discord and chaos across the world, forcing Alan and his posse to hunt them down and try to put a stop to them.

The Guardians Of the Universe:
The 'wisest people in the cosmos' they call themselves. Alan doesn't know them, but the Starheart does. It will projects those feelings onto Alan when prompted.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

"Rose Irene Forrest, will you marry me?"

Standing on his knee on the floor of the train. They were in first-class, the train heading towards Gotham City. They were currently somewhere outside of New York. The trip was supposed to be for business. Alan was going to Gotham to work for the broadcasting company, working on the 6G-masts that would bring on a revolution of communication. Rose tagged along to go see her parents in Gotham, at least that was what Alan convinced her to do.

The blonde man was sweating, his pulse was beating in his ears and his hands were a little shaky. Rachel had known him as the most confident and headstrong man in the world, and seeing him this scared to ask her to marry him was perhaps the most surprising thing of all.

The coming six seconds of anguish and uncertainty, of hope and love were perhaps the longest in Alan’s life. She looked at him in shock first, and then her face cracked into a smile, and he felt his heart burst with joy. His stomach fluttering like butterflies and a big-dumb-grin on his face as he said the best three-letter word in the English language.

“Yes.” Tears falling down her face as she hugged him. Putting the golden ring onto her hand, the ring Alan had gotten from his mom after his father had died. They kissed and all seemed well. The passengers that overheard them cheered them on and Alan ordered a bottle of champagne for the two of them. This was the best day of Alan Scott’s life. The train was reaching the bridge, that lead into the Gotham Tunnel, making them about 40 minutes from their destination.

That’s when he heard it. The brakes of the train failing, followed by the ear-shattering explosion in the Train’s front, echoing all of the way to the very back of the train, where they were seated.

The coming nineteen seconds of carnage were among the longest in Alan Scott’s life.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

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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.

[AndyC]

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 U P E R M A N

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^{_{Clark Joseph Kent ♦ Freelance Journalist ♦ Metropolis, Delaware, USA ♦ Independent}}

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

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^{"I do what I can, same as anyone else. I can just do a little more."}

The town of Smallville, Kansas, appears by all rights to be the sort of down-home, Mom-and-Pop, baseball-and-apple-pie image of classic Americana that more cynical folk might sneer at as they pass by to a ‘real’ city. Earnest, simple men and women who might have had big dreams once, but settled for marrying their high-school sweethearts, having an average of 1.5 kids, and enjoying the small things like a cold beer after a hard day’s work. The kind of wholesome, almost corny sort of town that anyone who’s been out in the world assumes the worst of-- that big friendly Billy-Bob secretly beats his wife, that the good old boys at the general store have white robes stashed away in their closet, and that kindly Father Brown shouldn’t be left unattended around children. And those cynical, sneering, worldly people would be half-right: Smallville does indeed keep some very big secrets. But not the kind they would ever imagine…..

It was a warm night in April of 1995 when Jonathan and Martha Kent’s truck broke down on their way back home from the doctor’s office, where they had been told Martha was infertile, and their dreams of starting a family had been dashed. It was almost a bit of mercy that a blown tire let Jon get some time by himself, where he could work with his hands and straighten out his thoughts before he said something he would regret. There had already been words, implications, insinuations, and tears, but while they never shouted or accused, the silence in the truck’s cab told both of them that their marriage was as good as over. As Martha stared into the night sky, she quietly demanded the stars justify themselves, asking fate or God or whatever was out there what the point of it all was. And the stars, or fate or God or whatever was out there, provided an answer in a flash of light that nearly blinded them both, followed by a blast of wind that knocked Jon off his feet.

For the next two or three years, the people of Smallville found themselves bombarded by visitors poking around, asking questions. Federal agents just wondering if they had noticed any suspicious activities lately, land surveyors who suddenly had a great amount of interest in soil samples, census takers going door-to-door just to be sure there weren’t any mishaps in the last population count. And of course, tabloid reporters and internet crackpots who had the honesty to come out and ask directly if anyone knew anything about the mysterious “Kansas Lights” that had illuminated the sky over Smallville that one April night. The good people of Smallville all said the same things. Nothing strange happens in a place like this. The “Kansas Lights” were probably some kids who had gotten their hands on fireworks, and everyone was making a big fuss over nothing. And they all remember visiting Jon and Martha in the hospital when their baby boy Clark was born-- the papers must have been lost in the hospital records somewhere.

Time passed, and the people of Smallville moved on, suspicion giving way to complacency and eventually indifference. Clark Kent was a nice boy, after all, just a little odd. He kept to himself mostly, never played with the other kids, would either go straight home from school or spend his free time in the library. He was smart enough, did well in class, but always came off a bit….puny, and shy. While nobody ever talked about it, everyone knew he was different, and Clark started to take that personally.

Throughout his childhood, Clark was never content. His parents were wonderful to him, provided the best life for him that they could, but most nights he found himself staring out at the stars…..even when he was inside with a roof over his head. He saw how the grown-ups looked at him, how they kept him at arm’s length and whispered when he thought they couldn’t hear him. When he asked his parents about it, Jon consoled him, saying “They’ll understand some day. When you’re older, and when….well, when you learn to become who you are.”

Pete Ross had been his best friend ever since Clark had saved him from drowning in the river, and Lana Lang from the farm nearby had known him so long that most of the town assumed they would be married the second they were both eighteen, but even they could only see the bits and pieces of Clark’s life that he wasn’t afraid to tell them about. He couldn’t tell them about the time he bolted out into the road to save the family dog from an oncoming eighteen-wheeler, went under the wheels, and came back up without a scratch. He couldn’t tell them about the time a jack slipped out from under the tractor as Pa was working underneath it, and Clark held the whole thing up with his bare hands. Or how he knew Ronnie Marsh had robbed the corner convenience store because he could just look right through his ski mask. Or how when Clark found out that Lana’s father had abused her, his clothes caught on fire when Clark stared at him.

Or how one night, when no one was looking, he snuck out into the back field and jumped so high that he didn’t come back down.

As a teenager, Clark’s introversion and isolation gave way to a restless energy, an ever-more-powerful need to go out, to go to exotic places, see and do incredible things, find a place where he belonged. He became a dreamer, in more ways than one. In his sleep, he saw incredible visions-- a world far from home, full of men and women who worked miracles like they were nothing, who braved impossible odds and stared down evil with a confident smile, garbed in striking skin-tight blue suits with bright red capes, emblazoned with a shield and a curving sigil that looked for all the world like the letter ‘S.’ A world where he could truly be himself, and finally belong.

The power of these images, the yearning to be like the incredible people of his dreams, clashed with the mundanity of Smallville more and more with each passing year, until just after his high school graduation. In the summer of 2013, a massive tornado ripped through the heart of Smallville, threatening to destroy the town and everyone in it. Jon and Martha had urged Clark to stay inside, to keep his secret safe while they went out into the storm to get people to safety. When he saw their truck overturn, he couldn’t restrain himself any longer, and quite literally flew into action. Righting the truck was just the start, as Clark became a blur of motion, catching a child who had been picked up by the wind, holding up a collapsing church roof, shielding a family from a derailed train car. For the better part of an hour, in full view of the town, Clark Kent fought the very forces of nature itself, and by all accounts, he won.

Still, when the storm finally broke and the dust settled, no one would look Clark in the eye. He had saved their lives, but what he had done was….unnatural. He had reminded them of those inexplicable lights in the sky all those years ago. He’d shown them that the nice quiet boy from the Kent Farm wasn’t one of them. Maybe he was some kind of experiment from the Army. Maybe he was an angel, or a devil. Either way, he had shown them that he didn’t belong.

The next day, Clark was gone, hitchhiking down the open road, looking for a purpose and a place to belong. In his search for the truth about himself, he became fascinated in learning the truth about the rest of the world as well, leading him to take up journalism. He would enroll in a class here and there, eventually gathering enough credits to earn a Bachelor’s Degree, but he got the most experience in the field, finding places where he could put his abilities to use, reporting on the human side of the story while being careful to avoid his own role in events. Still, others were all too eager to follow rumors about some mysterious “Angel in Blue Jeans” who would show up out of the blue to rescue survivors from natural disasters or pick a fist-fight with heavily armed warlords, only to disappear just as abruptly as he arrived. In particular, a pair of freelancers always seemed right on Clark’s heels, forcing him to take increasingly drastic steps to keep his secrets: an excitable but talented photographer named Jimmy Olsen, and a tenacious investigative reporter named Lois Lane.

After seven years of wandering, Clark returned to Smallville when he learned his father had developed a malignant tumor and had only months to live. Over those months, Jon and Clark connected again, the old man imparting as much wisdom as he could while fighting the disease as long as he could. Martha talked to her son about his visions and dreams of those incredible people in bright red capes, and about how those bright red capes just happen to sound an awful lot like the blanket he had been wrapped in the night they found him. When Jon’s body finally failed him, the last words he said to Clark were “you’ve got to do the hardest thing anyone can ever do….you’ve got to become who you are.”

Clark Kent is now twenty-five years old, and has landed a job interview at a newspaper in Metropolis. He has packed everything he owns into a suitcase and a backpack, including the old red “blanket” his mother had been keeping in the old linen closet, and an outfit the two of them had put together to go with it. He has no friends in the city, no plan to fall back on if he blows it, and no idea where he’s going to sleep at night. But he cannot hide his excitement, or his eagerness as he fidgets with nervous energy in the seat of a cross-country bus.

He is not one of us. He does not belong here. But he knows he has a purpose. And he is ready to become who he is.

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:

---

Anyone who knows me knows I’ve got some very strong feelings and opinions about Superman- he is, without question, the one character I have spent more time and thought and energy on than anyone else in all of fiction. And while doing the seven trillionth origin story might be a bit tiresome, I want to present a ‘Year One’ Clark without all of the worn-out clichés that so many tellings of the story run into: people just telling Clark that he’s the proverbial Chosen One and has a special destiny and yadda yadda yadda. Clark knows he’s different, he has a vague idea of the kind of person he wants to be, but right now he’s got no idea how to get there, and is going to be making things up as he goes. This will likely be a version of Superman who’s a little more rough around the edges-- not for the sake of being ‘edgy’ or turning a wholesome kids’ character into a radical anti-hero, but just to reflect where he’s at in his life, a young man full of piss and vinegar as they say, with a head full of big ideas and no real plan to see them through.

To this end, this version of Clark doesn’t have the Fortress of Solitude or his computer-ghost-father, no knowledge of Krypton except for half-remembered dreams. Any “destiny” he has is one he forges for himself, the identity of Superman and the meaning of the S symbol are things he will create over time. His journey of self-discovery will be more about creating a purpose rather than finding one.

All that, however, is the top-down overarching “big idea” journey. In practice, I want to tell energetic and fun stories with intrigue, romance, frightening villains, and kick-ass action, while leaving the door open for team-ups and crossovers with other players-- after all, Clark can’t exactly “find his place” in the world if he’s not interacting with the other people in it. While Superman is many things to many people-- a comfortable nostalgia act, an inspiring role-model, a secular stand-in for God or Jesus or Your Dad or whatever-- he is first and foremost, above all else, an Action-Adventure Hero. And I plan for Clark’s journey to “become who he is” to be full of action, adventure, and heroics.

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

---

Powers and Abilities

At first glance, Clark's powers are the same suite of abilities everyone is familiar with: super-strength and speed, invulnerability, enhanced senses, Heat Vision, etc. However, there are some tweaks and caveats that will come into play.

First and perhaps most importantly, Superman does not get his powers from yellow sunlight. Instead, every cell in his body effectively works as a microscopic fusion reactor, which when working at regular capacity, allows him roughly the same level of strength, speed, and durability seen in both the Animated Series and the DCEU-- able to lift an ocean liner, but not a planet; able to take hits from conventional weapons without flinching, but high explosives or energy weapons will knock him around.

His muscles, when contracting, generate gravitational fields which are not only responsible for his flight and invulnerability (as well as tactile kinesis to keep the things he's lifting from buckling under their own weight), but also justify him actually needing to be physically buff. With concentration, he can effectively turn his powers "off" to train his body, which can then generate stronger gravity fields afterward.

He can tap into greater reserves of power with effort and concentration, but doing so will leave his body sapped-- in theory, he could have the same level of raw physical power he wielded in the Silver Age or the higher-end Post-Crisis eras for a minute or two, but that would leave him effectively powerless for a day or more afterward. While yes, I know this basically gives him a 'Super Saiyan' form, I think it also adds a risk-vs-reward nature to his powers, where sure, he could push the moon out of orbit if he wants, but then he's a sitting duck for anyone who wants to take a shot at him afterwards.

In addition, while Clark possesses super-speed, having equally superior reaction time is something he can only do with concentration, meaning unless he is actively looking and listening for trouble, it is entirely possible to get the proverbial drop on him. Mentally, he is of above-average intelligence, certainly smart and clever, and possesses a photographic memory, but is not in the realm of genius. He's not dumb by any means, but he can be outsmarted or tricked by someone higher up on the intellectual food chain.

These changes are intended to allow villains and other player-characters the ability to threaten Superman or succeed where he fails, while also allowing him access to the insane levels of power expected of the character. It should also give him more visible and tangible signs of progression as he grows with experience.

Clark Kent

Clark is a friendly, well-meaning, dependable guy, the kind who might not be the first you call when you want to go out for drinks, but the first you call when you need to move your couch. He tends not to draw attention to himself, and always seems a little slow on the uptake when it comes to popular trends. Despite wanting to pursue a career that requires near constant access to the flow of information, he has no social media presence, virtually no trace of him on the internet, seems to pay for everything with cash, and doesn’t even have a driver’s license. Still, he seems to get by well enough, taking on odd jobs to make ends meet while trying to cut his teeth as a reporter in the big city.

Lois Lane

Lois Lane is perhaps the most feared independent journalist on the planet, breaking stories that have brought down crooked CEOs, exposed organized crime syndicates, and ousted world leaders. This has made her no shortage of enemies, having been banned from virtually every social media platform and publisher in the country-- the majority of which are owned by the likes of Maxwell Lord and Lex Luthor. Despite being persona non grata among the political and corporate elite, Lois’s site nonetheless has an audience of millions, and such a following has landed her a home at the one old-fashioned news outlet she respects: the Daily Planet.

Lois is an idealist at heart, and honest to the point of being cruelly blunt. She has a fierce independent streak, a dogged determination to discover and report the truth, a fast and laconic sense of humor, an intense hatred of bullies, and little patience for anyone who can’t keep up.

Jimmy Olsen

Jimmy is a rich kid who inherited his parents’ enormous wealth and, in another life, likely would have squandered it all on parties and drugs. However, he instead picked up a knack for photography, and somehow got roped into the whirlwind of controversy and globe-trotting adventure that is the life of Lois Lane. He shares Lois’s idealism to an extent, but mostly tags along and bankrolls her exploits because he’s become something of an adrenaline junkie. He’s been in warzones, covered riots, and even met Kanye once-- something he will never shut up about. Jimmy believes he has the coolest job in the world, which makes him the coolest person in the world.

When he’s not dodging bullets or chasing celebrities, Jimmy is a pop-culture addict, filling his spacious apartment-- dubbed the “Fortress of Solitude” since he can never seem to find a date-- with all sorts of knick-knacks and tchotchkes from his favorite movies, games, and comics. If he’s not at work, you almost always find him at the Fifth Dimension Comic Shop in Hobb’s Bay.

Perry White

Depending on who you ask, Perry White is either a radical socialist, a far-right extremist, a corporate shill, an irrelevant dinosaur, or a slander-slinging grifter. All of these names, however, are just deflections for what he really is: a journalist with integrity. While other traditional news outlets turn to more exploitative and sensationalist tactics to get clicks and ratings, turning news into cheap reality-TV entertainment, Perry has stuck to his guns for decades to make sure that the Daily Planet is the most trustworthy and incorruptible source in the country. Sadly, this integrity also means little to no funding, few grants, and even fewer investors, to the point where he has to fill his staff with nobodies like Clark Kent and e-famous firebrands like Lois Lane to keep the lights on. Still, just because they work cheap doesn’t mean he won’t hold them up to the standards he always has. The lion of the newsroom may be old, but he’s still got fangs.

Dan Turpin and Maggie Sawyer

MPD Captain Dan Turpin has seen it all in his day, and has been “two weeks from retirement” for the past five years. He’s been on the front lines against the Mannheim Crime Family for as long as he can remember, but even though a life of crime-fighting has hardened him, it’s only steeled his resolve to uphold law and order. Lieutenant Maggie Sawyer is his protégée, a fiery idealist and a crack shot, but would likely have run in guns blazing and gotten herself killed half a dozen times over if Turpin hadn’t been there to cool her jets. Together, the two of them head the MPD’s new Special Crimes Unit, taking on bigger and crazier things than your average cop can be expected to handle. Luckily, Turpin and Sawyer aren’t your average cops.

General Calvin Swanwick

General Swanwick is a decorated war-hero and a celebrated commander of men, having gained acclaim during the wars in the Middle East for his bold unconventional tactics and inspiring leadership. He is also a staunch patriot, placing his duty to the United States above all other considerations. In recent years, the General has shifted much of his attention toward the organization ARGUS, believing they can create new technologies and solutions to protect the American people, and put Her enemies down hard.

Bruno Mannheim

Bruno Mannheim is the patriarch of the Mannheim Family, the oldest and largest criminal syndicate in Metropolis. Under Bruno’s rule, the Mannheims have made sure that every organized crime outfit in the city-- from simple street gangs and drug dealers up to and including human traffickers and contract killers-- is in his pocket, creating a vast web of vice and violence the police have nicknamed “Intergang.” He has bought off half the judges, lawyers, and cops in the city, and those he can’t buy, he pressures, threatens, or simply silences. Bruno has come to believe that he is untouchable, especially now that he has made friends in even higher places.

Lex Luthor

Already the richest man in the world by the age of 21, Lex Luthor is generally considered to be the next Einstein or Hawking, and even that would be selling him short. Having inherited his father’s ailing petrochemical company, Luthor shocked many by completely transforming the aging Luthorcorp from the ground up, the new LexCorp rising from the ashes as an electronics and communications company. With a combination of fantastical inventions and an utterly ruthless business acumen, Luthor rampaged through Silicon Valley like Ghengis Khan, toppling tech giants who were once thought invincible, and he has yet to slow down. At this moment, LexCorp has tremendous holds in the communications, media, electronics, energy, transportation, entertainment, manufacturing, and military industries, creating everything from advanced cybernetics to video game consoles. In addition, Luthor is an outspoken social activist, a believer in what he calls the “Great Reset” that will force humanity to cast off old, outdated ways of thinking and adopt a new utopian world order. While many are skeptical and suspicious of Luthor’s true motives, the list of people willing to say so in public is getting smaller by the day.

Brainiac

The crown jewel of LexCorp’s achievements, Brainiac is effectively whatever the user wants it to be. It’s an operating system, a social media platform, a music and video streaming service, a search engine, a universal online store, a constantly-updating encyclopedia, an archive of virtually every book known to man, a digital business assistant, a tax accounting program, a free university and trade school, and even a platform for low-brow entertainment like hardcore pornography and badly written fan-fiction roleplaying games. One in every three mobile devices purchased in the past year, all around the world, runs on Brainiac. Brainiac is being used as a teaching aide in schools, and has replaced accounting and administrative firms in many major corporations. Contracts have even been made with the US, EU, Russian, and Chinese governments to replace their outdated computer systems with new ones that run on Brainiac. It is everywhere, in everything. The future is now, and that future is in Brainiac.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

“I don’t know who the hell you are,” scowls the aging crag-faced man in a suit that likely costs more than the whole farm back home, “or why you’ve decided to inconvenience me. But I do know that inconvenience stops right now.”

“You’re right about that, Mannheim,” I say, casually tossing aside the unconscious form of an armed guard into the pile of rubble and dust that used to be the palatial mansion’s main hall, “because I doubt I’m going to have any reason to keep bothering you in prison.”

For the past twenty-five years, Bruno Mannheim has been the undisputed ruler of the underworld in Metropolis. Drugs, weapons, prostitution, extortion, kidnapping, murder, you name it, he’s either done it or had it done for him, and all without the slightest consequence. Anyone who’s ever tried to oppose him either wound up under his thumb, in his pocket, or sinking to the bottom of Hobb’s Bay. Whether it’s cops, lawyers, judges, mayors or senators, nobody has had the power or the conviction to go after Metropolis’s king of crime.

Nobody until today, anyway. It turns out, it’s hard to threaten someone whose skin deflects bullets.

“Laugh all you want now, Boy Scout,” Mannheim sneers, “But you’re going to pay for every last cent you’ve cost me.”

“And you’re going to pay for every drop of blood that’s on your--*hnghhh!*”

My muscles begin to twitch and spasm as a million pins and needles prickle and stab all over my body. The air fills with the smell of ozone, and an angry buzzing like a swarm of bees. Electric shock….the floor….he’s electrified the floor!

“Ha! I knew you had a limit somewhere!” he laughs, his sneer giving way to cruel triumph. “Oh sure, you’re strong, and fast, and can do things that would give my old science teacher a heart attack. But everyone’s got their limits, Superman. Even you.”

As I struggle to keep my senses, I see him pull a small remote control from the inside pocket of his jacket.

“That’s over two million volts running through you right now,” Mannheim gloats. “A very smart friend of mine tells me that’s the most any man-made electrical source has ever been able to generate. He also tells me that this floor we’ve had installed can crack a billion volts, the same as a bolt of lightning. The thing is, my smart friend says, a bolt of lightning only lasts a millionth of a second. So if I turn this all the way up to maximum, it will be like hitting you with a million bolts of lightning every second.”

He takes a few steps back, and a thick transparent screen drops down from the ceiling between him and me, keeping him safe as the air starts to crackle. A smile of sadistic glee nearly splits his face in two.

“So let’s see how long it takes to turn you from regular to extra-crispy.”

He presses the button, the angry buzzing becomes the deafening roar of man-made thunder, and the world explodes into light and pain. Every nerve in my body screams, every muscle seizes and locks. My heart spasms at random, and my lungs fill with smoke. My senses reel as my brain starts to short circuit.

I don’t know how long Mannheim continues to pour voltage through me. Seconds, minutes, hours? Time seems to lose its meaning. It would be easy to quit struggling, to escape the pain and slip away into eternity now.

But that would mean that Mannheim wins, and gets to keep hurting and killing good people.

And that won’t do.

I grit my teeth. I clench my fists. I open my eyes. And, with the power of a million thunderbolts coursing through my body every second, I take a step towards him.

And then another.

And another.

“.....n-no,” Mannheim stammers. “That’s not…...no! You can’t! E-e-everyone has l-limits! E-e-even you! You have to have a limit!”

I take another step forward, and I grin.

“…...do I?”

[Mao Mao]

---

BATMAN

^{"Your day of reckoning has arrived."}

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

---

Given the clean slate of Batman, I wanted to try something different compared to the other versions of the bat. It's that Gotham is more corrupt than it ever has been thanks to the wealthy families living in the Palisades. The GCPD, led by Commissioner Loeb, has become the second most corrupt police force in the nation with their record high cases of police brutality and rumored connections with the crime families. And Mayor Hill does whatever he can to make the rich richer and poor poorer. With folks, like Jim Gordon and Michael Akins, getting punished for attempting to fix the problem. It seems like the citizens have lost hope.

But, one man plans on solving Gotham's problems: Bruce Wayne.

After losing both of his parents, Bruce was placed under the care of Alfred Pennyworth and Leslie Thompkins. Both his caretakers tried to hold onto the wealth amassed by his parents before the city took it all. Wayne Manor was left abandoned while Wayne Enterprises was left in limbo until the Cobblepots entered the picture. There wasn't much Alfred could do to stop the city from stripping apart what the Waynes built. Leslie, a close friend to the Waynes, offered them a place to her home. Still mourning for his parents, Bruce made a graveside promise that he would avenge his parents' deaths.

Bruce sent his later youth and teenage years training whenever possible. He was active in several clubs at his school, helped Leslie and Alfred at the clinic, and worked as a mechanic with Earl and Marva Cooper. Once he was done with high school, Wayne gathered his savings and announced that he was leaving Gotham to travel around the world. He didn't know how long it would take, but it was something that he needed to do. With his foster parents' blessing, Wayne departed and spent six years moving around and learning so much.

During his travels, one memory reminded in his mind upon returning to Gotham. During his time in New Mexico, he learned survival skills when he got lost and suborned upon a cave. But once he entered the cave, it became clear that he was lost. It felt like he had walked for hours until he found sunlight. When he started running towards it, bats were awakened and began attacking. At first, Bruce was terrified of them and tried fighting back. It didn't work. But it wasn't until remembering the lesson about maintaining fear that he was able to escape.

Besides the numerous bite marks and the medical bill, Bruce remembered how terrifying the bats were. And he wondered if it was possible to use that terror to his advantage, especially with Gotham's current state. Police corruption is at an all-time high with stories of their brutality being heard across the nation. Bruce understood that nobody was going to do anything to stop it. So he decided to do something.

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

---

Look, I am going to be honest. I despise rich folks, especially billionaires, for various reasons (capitalism). So, I am going to write Gotham City as its truly meant to be written: a cesspool of greedy wealthy people that brought out the city. The City Council, filled with the same folks, maintains the status quo while avoiding pleads for meaningful change. And the current commissioner makes sure the police department protects the rich while punishing the poor severely. There's no way someone could make it to the top of the social ladder without getting their hands dirty. Money absolutely corrupts.

Bruce Wayne never grew up as Gotham City's wealthiest since the city took it from him. He had to live in the shadow of Gotham's skyscrapers along with everyone else. It was filled with struggle, but his custodial parents did everything to give him a good youth. Yet, Bruce still struggles with his inner demons. He wants to uphold his promise, but at what cost? That will be the question that he has to find out.

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

---

Hamilton Hill: Mayor of Gotham City.
Gillian Loeb: Commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department.
Rupert Thorne: Councilman on Gotham City Council.
Carmine Falcone: Don of the Falcone Crime Family.
Salvatore Maroni: Don of the Maroni Crime Family.
Oswald Cobblepot: CEO of Wayne Enterprises.

Alfred Pennyworth: Surrogate father of Bruce Wayne and nurse at Park Row Community Clinic.
Leslie Thompkins: Surrogate mother Bruce Wayne and head doctor of Park Row Community Clinic.
Earl Cooper: Engineer and owner of Gotham City Collision.
Marva Cooper: Engineer, technician, and co-owner of Gotham City Collision.
Lucius Fox: Head of Research and Development at Wayne Enterprises and close friends of Alfred.
Vicki Vale: Reporter and Photographer at Gotham Gazette.

S A M P L E P O S T

---

Sample Post

---

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:

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.}

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.

---

[Polyphemus]

Won't be able to sit down and create a character sheet for a day or two, but wanted to reserve a space for the Crimson Avenger. Not that people are falling over themselves to play as him, haha.

[Tackytaff]

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 I R D S O F P R E Y

---

^{_{♦ H E L E N A R O S A B E R T I N E L L I | P A M E L A I S L E Y ♦ H E I R E S S | B O T A N I S T ♦ G O T H A M ♦}}

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

---

^{"That's omertà. When blood cries for blood, you answer the call."
"You seem to have me confused with some warm-blooded damsel in distress."}

Gotham City has always been at war with itself. Between the crime, the asylum, and the social divide between classes, not many make it out unscathed. Helena Bertinelli and Pamela Isley are two of the city's survivors.

The Bertinelli name was once as much feared as respected in Gotham. Helena's father ruled over his families, both business and blood, with an iron fist. There was no room for error or insurrection in his domain. Her mother while still kinder to her child, was no less ruthless: For her no slight went unmatched tenfold, even if it came from her own husband. Thus, when it was discovered she was seeking comfort from one of the other five families in retaliation for her husband's unfaithfulness the problems began. Fearing Don Bertinelli's reaction, Santo Cassamento approached the leader of the Mob, Stefano Mandragora who sent a kill order on the Bertinelli family. Expecting Don Mandragora to come for a visit himself, the entire family was waiting outside when the assassins arrived, leaving an eight year old Helena as the only survior.

She was sent to Italy, the home of the Bertinelli name, where she learned from her uncles and cousins the history and the way of the Cosa Nostra. As time went on, her interests grew with her, and eventually she began to train in combat, stealth, and espionage with her male cousins. Now, nearly two decades after the night that defined her life, Helena has returned to the city to avenge her family and return the Bertinelli name to its former glory.

Aside from their differences in wealth, Pamela Isley's family story isn't all that different from Helena's. Her home had been small, but her mother made up for it. The most kind and nurturing woman Pamela ever knew, she taught her daughter how to garden and care for plants until their tiny front yard bloomed a different colour with every season, and window boxes spilled over with different vegetation. The darker side to their life lay with her husband and Pamela's father. For all her kindness, Pamela's mother was not a strong woman. She her marriage had been hurried and ill-considered, as her husband's abuse began shortly after Pamela's birth. Anytime he lost his temper, there would be a gift of seeds and flowers the next morning as though to wipe the memory away. It was a terrifying existence, that only reached its true low on Pamela's seventeenth birthday; when her father killed her mother. He was arrested and charged guilty with murder but was far from enough to quell Pamela's yearning for justice.

In hopes to put her past behind her, she left Gotham to go to NYU to study biology and botany. She lived in the city for six years, received her masters and began a relationship with her colleague and former professor Marc Legrand. After years of developing spores that could effect the central nervous system, Pamela made a breakthrough which she was rewarded for by being poisoned and left for dead.

When she awoke, Pamela was changed. While she is constantly learning about what she has become, the betrayal of her former lover was enough to re-ignite her anger and her first course of action was the poisoning of her father in prison. From there she returned to Gotham, taking a job at Gotham university, where Helena found her and promised to help her find and kill Legrand in exchange for Pamela's help returning order to Gotham's mob families.

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:

---

With the goal of the roleplay forcing characters to start fresh, I decided to take two well established characters with dated and inconsistent backgrounds and give them a fresh slate in the modern age. How will Poison Ivy's environmental messages be reacted to in the global-warming age? What if instead of being inspired by Batman, Huntress set out only to return the Bertinelli name to glory? While they may seem an odd pair at first, I believe there is an interesting dynamic between two strong female characters both of which were originally created to be tacked love interests.

Helena will be returning to Gotham for the first time since the murder of her family, to find the five families close to all out war while the Penguin infringes on their money-making schemes. Under the leadership of her uncle the Bertinelli's claimed area is poorly enforced and constantly overtaken by the other families. She seeks revenge for her family, and to rule over those that killed or stood by and watched. All while unaware of her own true heritage.

Ivy is recently returned from the dead after her partner and mentor attempted to kill her. Still in the early stages of her transformation, her powers are constantly developing as well as her connection to the green. Confused as to what is happening to her and filled with anger she returns to her former home in Gotham. There she has and joined the research group at Gotham University where Huntress heard about her talents and offered to aid Pamela's environmental activism and quest for revenge from a place of power; provided she help her get there.

Both these character are morally gray and will begin as such, at least for the start of their story. As they learn more and evolve I see Helena growing into a more traditional hero, while Ivy's connection to the green grows and empathy for human withers.

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

---

• Stefano Mandragora: The mafia head of all mafias. He keeps the mob in line not just in Gotham, but for all of the North-Eastern United states. He is also the man responsible for killing Helena Bertinelli's family at the behest of the Cassamento family.
• The Five Families: The five ruling families of Gotham's mob. While they still claim their territories, new upstart-gangs are constantly infringing on their space, and the respect for them has gone down greatly in recent years.
  
  • Bertinelli: Helena's family is ruled by her uncle Luca in America, and he has no intentions of giving up his place regardless of his niece's reappearance.
  • Beretti: A family left in shambles after the recent arrest of it's head, Angelo Beretti. He has been supplemented by his young son Antony Beretti the family is scrambling to retain its foothold maintaining the peace between the Cosa Nostra and law enforcement with both bribes and blackmail.
  • Cassamento: Headed by Santo Cassamento, Helena's true father, and the one who invoked her family's murder. Once the closest family to Bertinelli, they used to run arm deals together, though they too have lost a great deal of respect and work in the past decade.
  • Galante: The family most linked to drug movement in Gotham city. Headed by Claudio Galante.
  • Inzerillo: The least liked of the Cosa Nostra, and the only group to have actually grown in the past few years, sharing their space and deals with Cobblepot has proven beneficial to their pockets, but less so for their already poor reputation among the other families.
• Oswald Cobblepot: The man taking over the organized crime in the city, and has been eating away at the historic five family's power for years. Helena plans to organize the families against him, while Poison Ivy seeks to cease his development projects in the green belt around Gotham.
• Marc Legrand: Pamela's ex-professor and boyfriend, he once worked researching Botany at NYU before he tried to kill Pamela with a spore she developed, resulting in her turning into Poison Ivy, and him receiving a generous offer of payment if he were to recreate the effects on a larger scale- courtesy of Oswald Cobblepot.
• Charlotte Rivers: The teenage daughter of Gotham's mayor Sebastian Hady.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Helena still remembered the purple dress she had worn as an eight-year-old outside her family's estate as they waited for Don Mandragora to arrive. She hadn't known who he was at the time, just an important important dinner guest from her father's work. Whatever that was. The dress had puffed sleeves that her mother had to keep reminding her not to play with as a shiny back car pulled up the drive. "But they won't stay down, and my stockings itch." She had complained while her mother clasped her hand to keep her from fidgeting as the door to the car opened, and two men stepped out.

When Helena first arrived in Sicily and come to understand the Cosa Nostra and her family's place in it, she had imagined breaking into the home of every mob family and destroying them each as her own family had been. The reality was much less dramatic, but good things come to those who wait. Or at least that is what she told herself as she ducked out of sight from a patrol; directly into a dumpster positioned outside the 12 foot fence surrounding the Beretti concrete plant. The lights lining the inside of the perimeter meant that cutting through wasn't an option without being seen. It wouldn't have been the best choice in any-case: The less attention there was to a Bertinelli ever being in another family's territory the better. Once the guard's steps had faded to a reasonable distance, Helena aimed her loaded crossbow toward the top of the barbed fence. With a quiet buzz a cable wrapped around it's target and pulled Helena up. She crouched down on her precarious position and scoped out the area.

They hadn't wasted any time shooting, but the only image Helena had of that brief moment was her father falling to the ground at the same moment her mother pushed her into a similar position. Amid the screams someone called for her to run. So she had.

Whether the lack of security was a result of Angelo Beretti's arrest or part of the cause, it was a glaring issue throughout. Non-front factories were harder to break into. Helena shot herself to the top of the flat, square building; directly over the heads of a patrol and was completely undetected. For the moment it was a relief, for the long term something would have to be done. Within moments she had the grate to the building's ventilation system off and was sliding herself in. It was a tight fit, but once she reached a non-vertical passage, she was able to move around enough to crawl, and even reach her utility belt.

The Bernitelli family didn't go down easy. The assassins spent an hour combing through the house, killing everyone in their sight; family member or servant. Helena's mother had forced her into a closet from which she watched as the hit-men intercepted her mother's exit and left her bleeding on the floor. A child, and unaware of her family's profession, Helena screamed. For a brief moment, the killed met her eyes, but turned away. Leaving her to sob as her mother's blood soaked into the carpet until her cousin would discover her the following morning.

There was one final guard standing between Helena and her prize. Under normal circumstances, that would have been a lethal position to take. But in keeping with her cover of stealth and discretion she instead pulled one of Pamela's vials from her belt. With a quick prayer and final inhale she dropped the vial from her position on the vents, held her breath, and waited until she heard the man's body hit the ground. For another few minutes she waited for the pheromones to dissipate before lowering herself to the ground. The guard was still alive, his breathing shallow but even. The key to the door his was tasked with watching was easily retrieved from his hip.

The room they were keeping mayor's daughter hostage in really wasn't bad, all things considered. There were no windows, and the floor and walls were plain cement. But there was a rug, couch, bed, table, even a TV which she was so absorbed in she didn't even notice her visitor until Helena turned it off.

"Who are- Well its about time someone came looking for me. Don't you people know who I am?"

Helena ignored the teenage girl and instead began searching for paper. There was a newspaper beside the couch from two days before, likely used in the original ransom. She picked it up and began writing on it's front page.

"My father will have this place burnt to the ground. The idiots in here will be rotting away in Arkham for years when he..." Her voice finally trailed off as she realized her "rescuer's" free hand was leveling a loaded crossbow at her face.
"Oh darling," She lamented, as though explaining a concept to a small child. Her writing finished, she staged the newspaper in the girl's lap, stood back and snapped a picture."I'm not here to save you."

Charlotte might have yelled after her, but by the time anyone came to check in, Helena was long gone.

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.

[mickilennial]

I am working on two concepts, but I'm not quite happy with them as sheets quite yet. They should be done by Monday.

[Bounce]

With apologies to @mattmanganon, this application competes with his concept.

However, this sheet is designed to compliment @Hillan's concept and so I'd ask the GM doing the judgment to view them together. Hillan's being the Earth-centric/Starheart focused side of the Green Lantern lore, while my sheet is the space-centric/Corps focused side of the shared story universe.

Kai-Ro

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

K A I - R O

^{_{G R E E N L A N T E R N C A N D I D A T E 2 8 1 4 ♦ M O G O ♦ G R E E N L A N T E R N C O R P S}}

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

---

The rings of Oa are the most powerful weapons known to man. Across 3,600 mapped sectors of this galaxy, the rings of Oa enable the heroic agents of the Guardians of the Universe -- the Green Lantern Corps! As peacekeepers, these Green Lanterns come under attack by all manner of force, natural and man-made. Through hard won victory or bitter defeat, the Corps is continually planning to induct new members into its ranks to fill the void left by those who have gone before them. To that end, the rings are sent out to the cosmos to find those rare individuals possessing extraordinary will.

Unfortunately, now and again, a ring comes back on the hand of a kid who is maybe ten or twelve years old.

This is the story of how a boy from Earth came to wield the powers of Green Lantern. Drawing inspiration from Ender’s Game, the New Mutants, and Jonny Quest, this concept combines 50s pulp sci-fi adventures with slice of life elements in order to tell the story of the kids who might be the next generation of Green Lanterns.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

---

I’ve written Kai-ro a few times before, but always cast him in the role of Hal Jordan. This eschews that approach for a different take that better uses my talent for world-building by using a concept capable of both sandboxing and collaboration across storylines/locations in our shared universe. The goal is to start with the story of how Kai-Ro became a Green Lantern candidate, transition into Alien-of-the-Episode type adventures, before unveiling a larger storyline at the conclusion of the initial story run.

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

---

The following are characters, concepts, or organizations in use with this story:

• Al-x: An alien from Sector 0424, who has a Greys-like appearance. He is 104 years old, but young for his species. Strategic and analytical, but hesitant to act without all the information.

• Arisia Rrab: A young Graxosian, with golden hued skin and hair, as well as pointed ears. Hot-blooded and precocious, she often acts without thinking.

• B’dg: A diminutive H’lven, with a squirrel-like appearance. What he lacks in size or strength, he makes up for with a large personality.

• Alisand’r: A Green Lantern from the planet Tamaran, the chosen instructor for the current class of Green Lantern cadets.

• Ganthet of Oa: One of the Guardians of the Galaxy, who has adopted the role of overseer to the Green Lanterns training program and mentor to the young cadets.

• The Planet Mogo: The headquarters of the Green Lanterns cadet training program, and also secretly one of the Green Lanterns most secret weapons -- a sentient planet who is, itself, a Green Lantern.

• The Spider Guild: An insectoid race of spiders that have spread across the galaxy, preying on the worlds that they conquer.

• The Reach: An interstellar empire that assimilates other planets into its collective through careful political manuevering and subterfuge, subjugating the populace only after its collaborators and sleeper agents have established control over the populace. Rebellions are usually bloody and short.

• The Manhunters: The precursor to the modern day Green Lantern Corps, robotic peacekeepers created by the Guardians of the Galaxy and empowered to preserve order in the galaxy. Unfortunately, the Manhunters determined that organic life was a threat to order and massacred the planet Ryut before the Guardians could put a stop to them.

• Tybalt Bak’sar: An intergalactic bounty hunter who wields anti-Green Lantern weaponry.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Hider

T I B E T
_{EARTH | SECTOR 2814}

The call to prayer came before the dawn.

It would be several hours before the sun rose, in fact. Dawn in the Tibetan mountains would come around 7 a.m. in this time of year. Which would be about four hours from now.

The boy woke atop a thin mat, laid out on the floor. The room was no more than a closet, with three children of similar age crowded into the shuttered space. As they stirred to wake, each picked up the red-orange cloth that had served as their sole bedding. Shifting and tucking it around their bodies revealed the reality that the sheet was, in fact, their clothing.

Bare feet padded from out of the cloistered confines, spilling out into a temple hall in which monks of varying ages had begun to mill about. The three boys made their way to the showers, to begin the day by first preparing their bodies. In times past, there would have been more of them. Child-monks, given to the monasteries by a cultural tradition in which one son of each Tibetan family was trained as a monk, but today they were less than a handful.

Banned. Prohibited, by the laws that had superimposed themselves on Tibet. As the boys made their way along the halls, the banners of China hung alongside images of Communist Party Leaders.

“Tayata om...”

The young monk paused. He was laboring at a churn, a traditional method of making the yak butter tea known in Tibet as po cha. As children, monk initiates were required to have a sponsor, who guided their education and their place in the monastic order. In his case, that sponsor was Monk Lhakpa, who was also in charge of the monastery’s kitchens.

“Tayata om bekanze...” the boy began, re-starting the attempt at recitation. Monk Lhakpa had been teaching him a new mantra, to help guide the meditative exercise for this morning. After they had finished preparing breakfast for the monks, in any case. Looking up from his butter churn, the boy seemed to pose a question as he uttered, “...bekanze razha?”

A solitary finger was raised, over at where the aging monk was preparing a large pot of porridge. “Bekanze maha, bekanze razha,” the elder monk stated, before adding the conclusion, “Samudgate soha.”

“Tayata om bekanze maha bekanze razha samudgate soha,” the boy recited, completing the mantra. When he had finished, he looked up at his teacher, as though for affirmation.

“Good,” Monk Lhakpa stated, eliciting an immediate smile from the child. Then, the solitary finger again returned to the air as the monk asked, “Now, what does it mean?”

The smile fell. A look of confusion played out across the youth’s face, as it was plain to see that the child was wrestling with any manner of thoughts or emotions, before finally looking up and stating, “But... you didn’t tell me what it means.”

“It’s not a recital, Kai-Ro,” the man quipped back, invoking the religious name that had been given to the boy when he had taken his first vows. As the man started to prepare the food to be served, he shifted his attention to the boy. Crossing over to the butter churn, the man began to decant the butter tea into a large kettle for service. As he did, he continued, “I didn’t ask what it means to me, I want to know what it means to you.”

The child’s head went back, his face betraying both irritation and surprise with such honesty that the monk couldn’t stop the laugh from reaching his lips.

“I don’t want you to answer now, but think on it,” Monk Lhakpa said, not bothering to suppress his own amusement at the boy’s theological quandary. Instead, pressing the heavy kettle into the boy’s spindly arms, the monk then touched the child’s head and commanded, “Go. Serve the tea. When you have finished, pray. Meditate on this mantra, then come back to me and give me your answer.”

For his part, Kai-Ro was conflicted. On the one hand, he had the distinct impression that he was being laughed at. On the other, he rather appreciated the head pat from the fatherly monk. That duality of conflict was plain as day on his face, as he lifted the kettle and said, “Yes, sir.”

With the large kettle in his arms, the boy shuffled barefoot from out of the kitchen. In the main hall of the temple, the monks had begun their prayers. Some meditating, a few reciting mantras aloud, while others prostrated themselves before the various iconography in the temple. Meditations upon mandalas, prayer wheels, or the different forms of the Buddha.

As he passed by, those who had their cups out were filled. Mostly, those were in groups that had begun their day with debate and discourse over the sacred and the profane. Mostly, the latter were talks of the Dalai Lama in exile and of the Chinese government’s reach into the monastic lives of Tibet’s cultural religion.

The reason why there were so few child-monks now was the fact that the practice was forbidden, as was education in Tibetan language. Kai-Ro had been smuggled into the temple and made criminal alongside the language that he spoke, and the teachings of his people that only existed in these walls and in the halls of those who had escaped from Tibet to live as exiles.

It was a topic that the boy would not claim to have any knowledge of. China had come to Tibet long before he had been born. And his earliest memories were of the monastery, making this criminal existence the only one that he had ever known.

“I’ve heard that the local party has finally appointed a loyalty director for the monastery.”

They were five monks around the table. All just of age to have taken their second set of vows. Twenty, or so, from what Kai-Ro knew. They spoke in conspiratorial whispers, even as the boy poured the tea for them.

“A permanent presence? Here?” another monk asked. In truth, China had begun planting permanent Communist Party overseers in the monasteries over the last several years. Theirs was one of the increasingly few that had remained under relatively lax monitoring. “How would we keep the...”

A third raised a hand, stopping the man short before he could finish his statement. Looking up, Kai-Ro was suddenly uncomfortable at the realization that everyone at the table was looking at him.

“...the Dalai Lama’s picture a secret?” the monk uttered finally.

It was a lie. They weren’t talking about his Holiness at all.

The first monk who had spoken reached over, lifting the tea kettle from out of the child’s hands and inspecting it. Handing it back, the monk said “Fetch more tea for us, Kai-Ro.”

Cradling the kettle in his arms, the boy stepped back even as he gave a respectful bow toward the table. Uncertainty gripped him as he started to wind his way back toward the kitchens. If the Chinese had a permanent Party representative in the temple, then where would he and the other child-monks go? How could they continue to live here.

As he crossed from out of the main temple structure and into the courtyard, he heard a sharp cry. The first rays of dawn had just started to appear in the sky, the fading twilight still dark enough that it was dim. Still, there was light enough to see the indistinct shapes of two men. And a third, smaller, that seemed to be struggling against them.

Bhuti cleaned the courtyard each morning, before dawn, so that he wasn’t seen.

A gasp froze in Kai-Ro’s throat. Grabbing the hem of his robe, the monk took off in a run toward the kitchens. Shadows in the window told him something was wrong before he made it there. A glimpse in the light of a blue-gray cloth.

The color of the police uniforms.

Dropping the kettle to the ground, the boy turned and sprinted back to the temple. Bursting through the door, the breathless child was met with confusion and aghast looks at the sudden interruption during the prayers. “P-police!” the child managed, between gulps of air.

In a moment, everyone snapped into motion. The picture of the Panchen Lama was put away, swapped instead for the image of the Chinese proxy installed as the Panchem Lama after the abduction of the child-monk that the Dalai Lama had ordained. A small image of the Dalai Lama was pressed into Kai-Ro’s hands, along with one of the Tibetan language texts that they used for study, as the child-monk was ushered along as the monks began preparing for the raid.

“You should be safe in your room,” one of the monks said, grabbing Kai-Ro by the shoulders and pressing him toward that wing of the monastery. “Go there now!”

Struggling to hold the hem of his robe, the texts, and the image of his Holiness, the boy stumbled as he tried to run through the temple. As he neared the steps that would take him up to the closet-like room, menacing shadows told him that the police had already entered on that side. Instead, the boy took a sharp turn, and found himself bolting out of the temple in an effort to avoid them.

Instead, he found himself on the temple steps.

And, below, on the landing was a row of police officers armored in riot gear.

His chest was tight, pain lancing through his lungs as he seemed to forget to breathe. Instead, he stood there. A boy in a saffron robe, holding an image of the Dalai Lama. A rebel and a seditious traitor in both being and appearance. As the police started up the steps, the boy found himself rooted in place.

He was done running away.

And he was done being afraid.

He was Tibetan. He was Buddhist. And the Dalai Lama was his guru. The language of Tibet was his language. If he was to be punished for this, then so be it.

It would not change who he was.

Holding onto the picture of the Dalai Lama, the texts written in the forbidden script of his culture shifting around in his arms, the young child-monk raised his head up high to regard the riot-armored police who advanced upon the child.

He could not change his fate, any more than he could change the Chinese control of Tibet. But he could choose to face it with eyes wide open.

That was when the light grabbed him.

It was an experience like none that the boy could have described. A sudden burst of green light. Penetrating him. Surrounding him. Before he was even aware of what was happening, the boy saw the advancing pair of police officers become small.

That was when he realized that he had, in fact, been catapulted into the air. He tried to keep his grip on the sacred texts and the image of his Holiness, but some slipped from his arms as he tried to maintain any sense of bearing.

It was then that the small jade object floated into view. A jade ring, emblazoned on the crest with the likeness of a lantern.

“KAI-RO OF EARTH, YOU HAVE THE ABILITY TO OVERCOME GREAT FEAR.”

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

_{ACT 1: AD ASTRA PER ASPERA}

• Post link goes here

_{ACT 2: UNACCOMPANIED MINORS}

• Post link goes here

_{ACT 3: AND ALL MY DREAMS, TORN ASUNDER (Part 1)}

• Post link goes here

[Mao Mao]

Well, I just got done with my sample post. It's a peek of my introduction post so I hope y'all like it!

[Simple Unicycle]

I have also added the sample post to my sheet.

[Retired]

I'll be honest, Byrd. Wasn't expecting that one.

[Simple Unicycle]

@Byrd Man The legend returns.

[mickilennial]

Sicario lookin'.