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6 yrs ago
Current Ever had that moment were you've just lost a battle of wills with your dog and think to yourself, "maybe I should be the one sleeping on the floor"? I have. It's oddly liberating.
3 likes
7 yrs ago
My Lit Lecturer used Matt Fraction's Hawkeye run to display the effect of narratology in class today. It's the first thing he's spoken about all term that I've actually read.
8 yrs ago
How good is the Punisher in Netflix's Daredevil series? "Just some guys who are about to walk into a diner for the last time." That line is so manly it could make a toddler sprout a beard.
8 yrs ago
The Justice League trailer is giving me mixed emotions. On the one hand, I desperately want to get hyped. On the other, Snyder and co have burnt me too many times in the past. I'm a conflicted mess.
2 likes
8 yrs ago
What? The Lethal Weapon tv show isn't utter garbage at all, instead being an enjoyable watch. What the fuck is the world coming to?
1 like

Bio

For all you know I'm handsome as hell. Let's keep it that way.

Most Recent Posts

B L A C K C A N A R Y


N A M E
Dinah Laurel Lance

A L I A S
Black Canary

P O W E R S A N D A B I L I T I E S
Black Canary is a naturally gifted hand to hand combatant. Remarkable balance, speed, poise, and grace combine with an intuitive feel for technique and form to create what could one day be a world class fighter. A lack of experience is her one great failing, but she’s working overtime on that. Nightshifts, mostly.

While lacking in the skills of detection and investigation that her father had her natural guile and intelligence goes someway in making up the difference. On top of that a misspent youth has taught her some less than savoury skills, such as how to jimmy a lock, and disarm a car alarm. She’s no world class thief, but she does have a talent for getting into places people would rather she’d stay out of.

No discussion of Dinah’s powers would be complete without mention of her ‘Canary Cry’, an ultrasonic scream so powerful that it can shatter glass, crack concrete, or disorientate opponents. It might even be capable of more, though Dinah is hesitant to experiment with it. Collateral damage is difficult to contain.

O R I G I N A N D B A C K S T O R Y
Born to a murdered PI and a former punk rock queen, Dinah Lance led a mostly directionless adolescence, anything to spark some excitement and piss off her overbearing, controlling mother. Ted Grant, a family friend and something of a surrogate father figure inspired a love for combat and the martial arts, but without any real drive for the future she didn’t know what direction she should pursue her passion. All she knew was that she couldn’t end up fighting for fighting’s on sake. Ted had drilled that into her.

The Lance’s discovered they had a mutant in the family during a prank gone wrong. Dinah and some friends decided to break into her high school after hours, though got more trouble than they bargained for when the cops were called. The teenage intruders managed to scrape a narrow escape, but in the ensuing confusion a scared Dinah unleashed her sonic scream, shattering a police cruisers windows, and blowing the eardrums of the officers. Terrified at this turn of events she went to her mother, who decided that to keep her daughter safe they would have to hide her uniqueness from prying eyes. Part of Dinah was happy to go along with her mother’s decree, though another, smaller part worried that it was the wrong choice. That they were covering up something they should have been celebrating.

At the age of nineteen she met Oliver Queen, the charismatic and charming ‘Prince of Star City’. She quickly found herself falling for the older boy, though she retreated from him when she realised he was falling just as hard for her. Without any real idea of where she wanted to go in life, or what she wanted from the world, she couldn’t allow herself to become Olly’s. If she did, then let him down, she’d never be able to forgive herself. Better to let him cut himself loose early, she figured, than allow him to tie himself to her just for them both to drown in each other’s issues.

Drowning would prove to be a poor choice of words however, when in a few short weeks later a ship Ollie was on would sink, leaving everyone to believe the young billionaire had drowned at sea. Tragedy would be heaped on with tragedy when Dinah senior would pass away a few months later. Both these incidents together would conspire to make the younger Dinah realise how half-heartedly she’d been wasting her life. With one eye on the horizon she would leave Star city to travel America, to find that drive she’d been missing for so long. Ironically it wouldn’t be until she returned to Star five years later that she’d finally find that purpose she was missing. Seeing the poverty and crime rampant in her family’s old neighbourhood of the Glades made her realise what dire straits her home town was in, made her realise that she needed to follow in her father’s footsteps. She needed to become a lawman. Only she’d have to do it her own way.

W H A T M A K E S T H I S C H A R A C T E R " U L T I M A T E " ?
In a lot of ways this concept is really just a streamlining of the various backgrounds and origins that Black Canary has been given over the long years since her inception. Dinah is still a legacy character, though her mother was never a superhero, rather a punk rock singer calling herself the ‘Black Canary’ who assisted her husband on his cases. Dinah here is a mutant rather than a meta human, which will allow me to explore themes and storylines that aren’t necessarily open to a DC meta. Most importantly Dinah is younger, angrier, and less experienced than she is usually depicted. Whether she develops into the calm, cool, and utterly commanding heroine she can and should be is the storyline I intend to pursue here.

S U P P O R T I N G C H A R A C T E R S

S A M P L E P O S T


Star City, The Glades, Night



The gun spoke thunder, spewing hot lead, breaking the night’s silence. The bullets missed their target. A costly mistake on the gunman’s part.

The scream came of its own accord, muscling its way out between Dinah’s lips before she could stop it, before she could even think about it. The silence that the gun broke, the cry shattered, along with all the windows in a block radius. Shockwaves rippled through the air before slamming into the gunman, hurling him from his feet, the gun dropped from nerveless fingers. He might have let loose a scream of his own before the streets concrete robbed consciousness from him, but if he did its noise was lost in the echoes of hers.

It took a minute for the adrenaline to wear off, for her heart to stop pounding that Tony Ramone beat. She didn’t feel out of breath, but her lungs were demanding air, like they just wanted the taste. Maybe it was just her bodies way of telling her that ‘it’s good to be alive’.

Movement in the deepest shadows of the non-descript Glades alley had her dropping into a balanced crouch, fighting instincts finely honed and ready to rock. Ted Grant, look at me now. A heartbeat later she realised she needn’t have gotten so worked up. There were no more horrors left here, no more asses to kick. Not tonight. The disappointment that welled up in her chest at that realisation surprised her.

“It’s alright, you can come out. Bad guys down.” She called into the darkness. A moment later two figures moved out of the gloom, halting and slow, like they weren’t sure they wanted to give up their cover just yet. The way the Glades had been recently Dinah wasn’t sure that she blamed them.

The woman held the boys hand and positioned herself in front of him protectively. Mother and son, Dinah figured. They both had that hollow-eyed, drawn out ghastliness that seemed distressingly common amongst those living in the glades now. It had been a while since their last good meal. It hurt to look at them, both so threadbare and destitute. It made her feel like their suffering was her fault, that she had done this horrible thing to them, or at the very least wasn’t doing enough to help them. Guilt made her avert her gaze, made her turn from them. She had to make herself busy.

First, she checked the thug. He was still breathing, thankfully. It was some hit he took, and while Dinah didn’t mind breaking a few bones here or there, she drew the line at killing, even scumbags who tried to rob women and children. It wasn’t for her to play God, even in a Godforsaken place like this. Then she pocketed the gun. There was more than enough hardware on these streets. She’d dispose of it later. She thought about dropping the Star City Police a call, to let them know there was trash needing collecting, but decided against it. It would just go ignored, like all the other calls she’d made before. Sure, the guy would be able to walk free as soon as he was awake, but what else could she do?

The mother and son were still staring at Dinah, motionless. Voiceless. Hopeless. Their faces were blank, but Dinah felt like she could read them like books. They couldn’t countenance anyone going out of their way to help them, not for free. They were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. That’s what living in the Glades did to people now. It was the anathema of innocence. It broke her heart to see it.

“You’re safe now.” She said. They didn’t react. She forced a smile, and held an open hand out to them, beckoning them onwards, out of the dark. They didn’t move, not a muscle. She couldn’t say she was surprised, but it hurt nonetheless. She tried not to show it, fixed a fake smile, like that could make anything better. “Well, good luck.”

Luck. Like that was what they needed. They seemed to share the sentiment, their blank gazes accusing her of some nameless, hateful crime.

She turned her back on the pair and headed down the street, fists clenched tight and a weight on her chest.

“Thank you.”

She spun, but the pair were gone, no sign of them ever being there in that dark, empty alleyway.
Whoops, seems like I failed my perception check. I hadn't realised that I'd been accepted until Wraith pointed it out to me.
Got room for one more?



@FantasyChic Wraith wants me full stop.

I'd love to join, but my dance card is hella full right now.


Semi-rough wip. Gives any other prospective players an idea of where I'm going with this.

F E N R I R

T H E S A N C T U A R Y

July 3rd, 2020 | Mount Justice, Rhode Island


He was beginning to think that allowing Stephanie to lead him from the training room had been a mistake. Tachyus and Juno were probably both mocking him for his spinelessness, while the rest of the team were no doubt questioning his right to a place amongst them. And right they should be. What had he been thinking? Backing down from a beta male? For bacon, of all things!

You’ve proven yourself little more than a trained dog, he thought, rolling over to show your belly as soon as someone throws a treat your way.

If he wasn’t so worried that it would show a lack of conviction in his decisions – which would no doubt just exacerbate his weakened position in the other youth’s eyes – he would have marched back to the gymnasium and finished what Quickling had started, then and there. Instead he was left with the bitter taste of his mistakes, wondering where he had gone wrong and how he could rectify the situation. It would have to be something drastic, that much he knew.

Stephanie and Andy were discussing a meeting between their parents, but he was hardly listening. Even if he didn’t have his own problems to address, he wouldn’t have been listening. There weren’t enough hours in the day for him to start caring about that particular topic. Thankfully the alien entered, the one who claimed to be connected to all life through something called the ‘Red’ entered, and with his appearance the conversation moved on.

Magnus didn’t know what the Red was, or what kind of creature Rannick Telo was, exactly, but despite himself he felt that he liked the strange creature. He couldn’t put his finger on just what it was that he found so agreeable about Avatar, he only knew that he did. There seemed to be an aura about the alien, some indescribable sensation that was beyond the ken of his senses, that spoke to the wildest and most animal parts of him, and somehow quieted them. He, like Tachyus, seemed Maybe it was a by-product of Telo’s connection to the Red, or maybe his own calm was just contagious. Whatever it was, the wolfman just felt more comfortable in Avatar’s presence, more able to relax. So much so that he found himself chortling aloud his response to Stephanie’s question, a dirty, hacking cough that doubled in volume at Andy’s hurt expression, though it cut off quickly when the boy made his interesting crack.

Shayera had made the costume for him, designed it herself even. He didn’t appreciate her efforts being undermined by some foolish youngling, and was about to make his feelings known, when he caught himself at the last moment. A moment revaluating Hellfire’s comment and he was forced to accept that Andy had just been making a joke - a good natured one at that. For that Fenrir had nearly quarreled with a teammate for a second time that night.

For a moment he marvelled at Hellfire’s ability to respond to insult – if Rannick’s joke could be called that – with humour, and wondered if it wasn’t a kind of strength, an ability to deflect that robbed a remark of it’s power. He wondered how he could claim that strength for his own. If he could, he didn’t know how to even start going about it. He didn’t consider himself to be particularly witty, and his tongue lacked the necessary swiftness to make jokes. To him it seemed to be a magical ability, mystical and unknowable. If he couldn’t joke with the group, the least he could do is respond to them. That would have to do for now.

“Costume is not supposed to be interesting. It is effective. Frightening. Stretches to fit form. Easy to wash blood from.” He nodded to cement the point. There were few smells worse than old blood. Function over form. What good was style, if it stopped you from taking to the shadows and stalking your pray? Though there was one of them whose costume had managed to marry the best of both worlds.

“I like Batgirl’s costume. Cape is bad, too much drag. . . but purple is pretty.” His face turned from the group, slightly embarrassed to have voiced that thought aloud. He was suddenly worried that if he hadn’t lost all of their respect earlier, then this would certainly be the moment to finish the job.

I'll see about getting my character up sharpish. Shouldn't be too hard, most of the sheet is already filled out.
@Dervish Curses, seems I'm not quite the shadow I thought I was.

I've been considering it. I might have a sheet up before the 12th.
M I R A G E A N D F E N R I R

T H E S A N C T U A R Y

July 3rd, 2020 | Mount Justice, Rhode Island


When the runt had first approached him he had been ready to ignore her. His blood was already up, and he had doubted there was anything of worth she could possibly of had to say to him. More than likely she was going to say something foolish, which would make him lash out in anger, which would make the others, soft fools that they were, turn on him. No great loss, but Shayera had asked him to do his best to ‘make friends’, and he was loathe to let her down. So he had decided that it was better by far just to turn his face from Mirage’s, and show her that she was, at that moment, beneath his consideration. Hopefully that would make her realise her place in things.

His course decided, he deliberately rotated his whole body from the girl in an obvious dismissal. Annoyingly she didn’t seem to get the message, and carried on regardless. He readied himself to snap at her, to make her realise the folly of bothering someone she should be showing her subservience too. Only then did he hear her words. Only then did he realise that she agreed with him. He paused in surprise, reappraising the strange girl anew. She may have just been agreeing with him as a survival tactic, the weak allying themselves with the strong, but somehow he doubted it. There was a real conviction in her tone, a fierceness, an iron belief in her own words. He realised that even if he hadn’t voiced his disapproval of Tachyus, she would have voiced hers, even if it set her against the whole group. The runt had suddenly become far more interesting.

He kept his silence while she asked her questions, studying her with a close, intense scrutiny, his storm-grey eyes fixed upon her, the way the vigilant wolf watches the heedless herd of deer. The answer to Mirage’s question was a far more personal one than she could have ever expected. It was one linked inextricably with his past, a past of blood and pain that he was unwilling to share with her, or anyone else for that matter. His past was his, and his alone.

“I have been hurt worse. Many times. While my body is still capable of moving, it will move. If I can fight, I will fight.” And that was all he was willing to say on the subject. If she felt he was being oblique, then good. Perhaps that would dissuade her from trying to pry too closely into his affairs in the future.

And yet he could see in her the need for an answer. This was important to Mirage, that much was clear. Maybe she felt that if she knew the secret to his strength she’d be able to use that to bolster herself. He approved of the runt trying to better herself, but he would never subject an other to the things he had to go through to become the man he was, but perhaps there was another way. There was more than one path to strength. After all, Hawkwoman was one of the strongest people he knew, and yet had she not used a different route to arrive at her greatness than he had? Maybe he could help Mirage find her path.

“It is not something I learned, to keep fighting. It is something that was forced onto me. Inflicted upon me. I do not know if I can teach it. . . But I can try.” He fixed her with his gaze, trying to make her make up for the lack of eloquence in his words with the earnestness he felt in the pit of his being. “I doubt I will be a good teacher, but I would not give up. That is all I can offer.”

Kassy was initially unnerved at Magnus and his focused glare. She knew he didn't like her. None of them did, but at least he was upfront about it. She almost regretted asking him anything, but there was no taking back the question.

From his tone, she'd obviously overstepped some invisible boundary. It was suddenly all too clear why, and she kicked herself internally. Of course! Not all of them could be like Juno and Connor, handpicked because they were the best and brightest. At least he was like her - tossed into this collection of guppy heroes because there was space to fill. The apology was springing to her lips, but before she could speak it, he spoke again.

“You.. you’ll help me?” Her whole face seemed to light up. “I- I can’t promise that I will learn fast, but if you won’t give up, I won't either. I'm very tired of being a useless little guppy. Or worse-” She stopped, shaking her head briefly as if forcing a thought from between her ears. “Nevermind.” She stepped close, and very carefully touched his arm. “I'm sorry you were hurt too, Magnus. But maybe we can make something good from it.”

Then she smiled, and it was probably the first genuine grin she’d displayed since the team had come together.

And then the light in her eyes was very suddenly snuffed. Tachyus was close and yelling, and Kasy seemed to fold into herself. She flinched visibly at the rage in her teammates voice and shrank back.

“I- I- I’m so- I’m sorry, I - “ There was fear painted all over her posture as she backed away. As her gaze dropped back to the floor, there was something else in her face. Not just fear, but resignation. Of course, she’d messed up. Of course, she was being yelled at, of course, next would be-

Juno was speaking but Kassy couldn’t hear through the rushing in her ears, and she started edging backward further.

Magnus watched Kassy’s humiliation in silence. A part of him, a surprising large part, wished to leap to her defence. However he would never be able to teach her to fight if he waded into all her battles, fought all her wars, took all her injuries and won all her victories. Better to let her taste this small defeat now, for it to serve as a prod to drive her towards greatness in the future, and a painful reminder of what happens when you merely gave up. It would hurt, but it was ultimately for the best. A learning experience.

Then Tachyus challenged him, and things changed quickly. Fenrir’s rage was swift and all encompassing, forcing out any rational thought that he may of had. He became deaf towards any calls for patience or temperance. He was dimly aware of Juno demanded peace, but she may as well have been telling the sea to stop being wet. All he could hear was a howling in his ears, hollow as winter and hungry as a forest fire. There was an ache, such a terrible ache, deep in his bones, in his muscles, in his very core, twisting at his every fibre. He knew that there was only one way to stop that ache, to cease the howling. It was the call of the Beast, and the Beast demanded blood. Even if he was inclined to refuse the call he wouldn’t have been able to. The arrogant fop may have been able to cow the guppy, but he would quickly come to regret challenging Fenrir.

Without preamble the feral teen’s fingernails lengthened into talons, and he took the first step towards the Godling, a wordless snarl upon his lips and and an bottomless hunger in his eyes.

Collab between @Mistress Dizzy and @BlackSam3091
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