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Opinionated nerd for hire.

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In DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


”Well, I think that’s about all of the business we’re going to get today,” Mister Abel says, flipping the old “Come in, we’re OPEN” sign on the door to say “Sorry, we’re CLOSED.”

”One person who talked himself out of buying anything, a hipster couple who were ‘just looking around,’ and a homeless guy who needed to use the bathroom,” I say as I count down the register-- more of a ceremonial gesture than anything, since nobody actually bought anything all day. ”I don’t know how we’re ever going to keep up with all of this demand.”

Mister Abel chuckles. ”Oh, we’ll get by, I imagine. Which reminds me,” He roots around in his pockets, before producing a wallet that somehow looks even older than him, and plucks out a single fifty-dollar bill and two twenties. He hands them to me with an apologetic smile. ”I’ve already taken the liberty of deducting your rent and utilities, which I’m afraid doesn’t leave much left over.”

”It’s fine,” I sigh. The fact that it isn’t much doesn’t really bother me-- I’ve got a place to sleep and some groceries in the refrigerator, and I spend most of my free time reading the books in the shop anyway. What bothers me is how bad he feels about it not being much. ”It really is, Mister Abel. I appreciate you taking me in, giving me some honest work.”

And being discreet about the identity of his new tenant, so as not to draw the attention of people looking for me, of course, but that goes without saying. As far as I know, my “father” and his band of hooded weirdos are still tearing Southern California apart trying to find their sacrificial lamb. Lucky for me, it’s a big state, and I was able to put plenty of ground between them and me before going to ground.

I had alternated between walking, hitchhiking, and taking the bus from Los Angeles to Jump City, which was, as one might expect, a terrible idea. The open road has no shortage of creeps who would be all too happy to take advantage of a teenage girl traveling alone. I made it a point not to go straight to any one city, to sleep in rest stops that were well-lit and had 24-hour staff, and to tell anyone who looked a little too eager to ‘help out’ to go to hell. Even then, there was every chance I might have wound up buried in a ditch somewhere. Which, to be honest, wouldn’t have been that much worse than what I was running away from.

I’d wandered into the ‘House of Mystery’ just looking for a place to spend some time before finding a shelter for the night, and found myself striking up a conversation with Mister Abel. I’d never mentioned the fact that I was on the run, or that I had nowhere to go, but he seemed to sense it, and let me know he had a room for rent and was looking for someone to help watch the shop. I let him know I was armed and would stick him like a pig if he ever got any ideas. He chuckled, said I was hired, and a month later, I’ve more or less settled in to what might generously be called a ‘life’ here.

”Oh! I’d nearly forgotten!” Mister Abel once again fumbles about for his wallet. ”While I was out attending my afternoon errands, I couldn’t help but notice that in the park they are making preparations for some rather large event. I asked about, and saw that one of the larger video-game companies, the ‘Control Freaks,’ were launching some new device or another, and having a party to celebrate it.”

He pulls out a crisp new hundred-dollar bill and offers it to me. ”Your bonus for your first month of good work. Enjoy yourself.”

I look at the money, then back to my kindly old boss, and shake my head. ”Thanks, Mister Abel, but….I don’t really do parties. Or video games. Or going outside, for that matter.”

He chuckles. ”Or concerts, or plays, or art festivals, it seems. My dear Rachel, it seems as though you don’t really ‘do’ much of anything.”

”....I guess not.”

Mister Abel places the hundred in my hand, and closes my fingers around it.

”I insist. You’re a wonderful young woman, and I know it isn’t my business to ask what’s troubling you, but….well, making some friends might do you a world of good.”

I let out a sigh. ”I’ll give it a try. For your sake. But I wouldn’t get my hopes up…..”



”I don’t really do ‘friends,’ either.”




Long have I looked to the stars, the glittering points of light at play in the endless heavens, and saw beauty and infinite majesty. Now, looking through the viewscreen of my escape shuttle, those stars seem cold, the vast distances between them empty and uncaring. Am I to drift forever in the unending void?

”Sister….” I find myself asking, holding back my tears, ”How could you have done this?”

Far behind me, Tamaran is in ruins. Long we had fought against the Citadel, repelling their soldiers, burning their ships, bringing down their orbital bombardment platforms. I had taken up our father’s mantle, the Starfire, light of hope and champion of the innocent, to lead our people from the front. Komand’r, on the other hand, had coordinated the war effort from afar, controlling the logistics and communications that made our victories possible. Her work was vital, but she envied the glories heaped upon me.

And so, she had betrayed us. She had given the Citadel secret knowledge of the vulnerabilities in our defenses, and when we most needed to fight together, struck me from behind. I could not bring myself to kill my own sister, and she made me pay dearly for my mercy.

”There must be one,” I say to myself as I search through the navicomputer’s archives. ”Merciful X’haal, let there be one….”

Our world fell, and the Citadel made my treacherous sister nominal Queen of Tamaran in exchange for fealty to their greater empire. Our generals were executed, our monuments toppled, our palaces burned. I was paraded in chains through the streets by Komand’r-- the self-proclaimed ‘Queen Blackfire’ in mockery of my own title-- and was to be made the plaything of the brutal and salacious Lord Damyn.

I had fought like an animal to free myself, and stole one of the escape shuttles from my father’s-- now my sister’s-- flagship. After disabling the tracking signals to make sure I would not be followed, I began searching the stars for a safe haven, one where the Citadel and my sister could not find me.

Even if I do find one, though, what then? Hide away forever? I am a Champion of Tamaran; I would never dishonor myself with cowardice. Seek vengeance against my sister? I have no armies, no fleet, no weapons to wield. Perhaps once I find safety, I can then begin to gather allies. Perhaps the Lanterns, or the people of Rann....

ATTENTION, the navicomputer sounds, SEARCH PARAMETERS HAVE YIELDED ONE POSITIVE RESULT. M-CLASS PLANET, DOMINANT SPECIES A LEVEL-1 TECHNOLOGICAL SOCIETY. INTERSTELLAR CONTACT: MINIMAL TO NONE.

Viewing the data, it is a small planet, barely noticed by any of the great space-faring peoples. Its people are primitive, little more than savages, but by astronomical coincidence, happen to look like Tamaranians. It may be possible to seek asylum here, but finding allies is out of the question. They will be of no help to me when it comes to freeing my people.

Still, I have no other options. I set a course for the shuttle to jump…..and I finally allow myself to cry.

YOUR STRESS LEVELS ARE ELEVATED. WOULD YOU LIKE SOME SOOTHING MUSIC, OR A CHEMICAL RELAXANT?

”No,” I say, drying my eyes as the wormhole-drive begins to whir.



”What I need now….is a friend.”
In Andy C's Trial Grounds, Drawing Board, and Graveyard of Ideas → 4 yrs ago Forum: The Gallery


T H E B E S T N I G H T O F M Y L I F E
CHAPTER ONE


My name is Dick Grayson. I am twelve years old. And tonight is the best night of my life.

"All right," Mister Bruce says, straightening the cuffs on his jacket as we ride in the back seat of his Rolls Royce, "Just to make absolutely certain you have it straight, let's go over the plan one more time."

I roll my eyes, but even so, I'm fidgeting with excitement. This is my first mission, my first actual assignment in the field, working with Mister Br-- ....with Batman. I'm going to be helping Batman.

"We arrive to Mister Dent's fundraiser a fashionable thirty-five minutes late," I recite. "You'll begin making the rounds and shaking hands with the high-profile VIPs in attendance, while I act disinterested and bratty. While it will look like I'm ignoring them and texting with my friends, I'll actually be wirelessly breaking into their phones and smart-devices, in particular looking for passwords and login data. If it's encrypted, I send it to your hacker friend Oracle. Primary target is Rupert Thorne, along with Commissioner Loeb, Mayor Hill, Roland Daggett, and Doctor Jeremiah Arkham."

"And your secondary targets?"

"Captain Jim Gordon to make sure he can be trusted, Oz Cobblepot to see if he had anything to do with the phony insider-trading allegations facing Wayne Enterprises' board of directors, and Doctor Quinzell to see if we can access her files on the Joker."

"Very good," Bruce nods. "What happens then?"

I scratch my head, trying to recall the details of the next part.

"Then, I find an excuse to go out on the balcony," I remember. "No later than 8:35, because at 8:40, we'll have a five-minute window where a WayneTech satellite will be in orbit directly above the city. During that five-minute window, I give it the information of all the VIPs we have, and it starts blasting the private servers of Carmine Falcone with military-grade code that will crack any cyber-security countermeasures he might have. It runs the login information over and over of everyone I've collected until it gets a positive, and at that point we'll not only have access to Falcone's personal network, but we'll know the identities of the VIPs on his payroll. Then it does the same thing with Sal Maroni, Roman Sionis, Anatoli Knyazev....and Tony Zucco."

Four years ago, Tony Zucco murdered my mom and dad, and walked away without a slap on the wrist. Four years ago, Bruce Wayne took me in, gave me a life I could have only dreamed of. But more than that, he gave me the chance to set things right--he started giving me the education, the training, and the equipment to take Zucco down. Mister Bruce wants all of the 'Five Kings' of Gotham taken down in one night.

I can't fight in Mister Bruce's war, not yet. I can't dodge bullets and break limbs like he can. I can't jump across rooftops-- well, I can, but I'm not allowed to. But if dressing up in an uncomfortable suit and pretending to have a good time gets us one step closer to seeing Zucco behind bars, then I'll wear this stupid bow-tie and play nice with all the old rich people he wants.

"I can't wait til we pull this off," I say, my leg bouncing up and down with nervous energy. "We'll take them all down, and Tony Zucco won't ever know that I had a hand in ruining that son of a--"

"Dick," Bruce interrupts, "language."

".....sorry," I mutter. For a man who spends his nights cracking people's skulls, he's very insistent on keeping things as wholesome as possible.

"Here we are, Master Bruce, Master Richard," Alfred announces from the driver's seat as the Rolls pulls up to the Westward Hotel, an old art-deco monstrosity that the very rich and old-fashioned love to use for these sort of functions. "the best of luck, happy hunting, and most importantly....have a wonderful evening."

In Andy C's Trial Grounds, Drawing Board, and Graveyard of Ideas → 4 yrs ago Forum: The Gallery
This is going to effectively be my "laboratory," trying out character and story ideas in advance to see if I want to continue them in a later game somewhere. I don't expect anyone to read them, but if you do, I always appreciate a boost for my huge and fragile ego.
In DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
I'm honestly cool with either one, but I prefer sooner to later. If we've got two whole weeks to get in our first post before the cutoff, one day isn't a huge deal-breaker one way or the other.
In DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
S T A R F I R E / R A V E N

Princess Koriand’r/Rachel Roth ♦ Exiled Princess of Tamaran/Ex-Cultist and current Runaway ♦ Jump City, California, USA ♦ Independent


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

"Evil beware, for we are here to lick your anuses!"

"....it’s ‘kick,’ not ‘lick,’ we’re here to kick their--.....you know what, never mind, AZARATH METREON ZINTHOS!!!!"

Rachel Roth has been surrounded by the occult since the day she was born. Her mother Arella, a second-generation hippie quick to buy into whatever new-wave feel-good movement could hold her attention, was barely eighteen when she was inducted into the Children of Azaroth, a spiritual-science order who claimed to be connected to astral beings on a higher plane of existence. There, she fell in love with a handsome young man by the name of Sebastian Blood, an eccentric multi-millionaire who seduced her and lured Arella into his mansion in the Hollywood hills. While Arella didn’t remember much of that night, she would have nightmares for years about the man she made love to actually being a hulking giant with eyes of fire.

Arella’s daughter Rachel was disillusioned with the Children of Azaroth almost immediately, especially while watching her mother’s mental health deteriorate. Despite this, she found herself enamored with occult literature and history, perhaps determined to find the ‘real’ magic that the amateurish cult had so clearly failed to produce. Mature before her age, she developed an ever-present cynicism and biting sarcasm, as well as nearly impenetrable emotional walls to resist the Children’s conditioning.

On her sixteenth birthday, Rachel received the greatest surprise of her life-- and nearly her last as well. Her supposed father Sebastian Blood had returned to the compound, showering her with gifts and throwing a magnificent party, before attempting to drug and murder the young girl in a ritualistic sacrifice. Much to the surprise of everyone in the room, a pitch-black shadow erupted from Rachel’s body and hurled the cultists aside like ragdolls. Confused and terrified, yet seeing the opportunity to escape, Rachel fled the cult for good. After hitchhiking north, she found her way to Jump City, where she currently works as an assistant at an old book store, half her meager wages paying for the dingy loft apartment above the shop.

Several million light years away, the lush and vibrant world of Tamaran had enjoyed sixteen cycles of prosperity and happiness under the rule of the just and mighty King Myand’r. His twin daughters were beloved by the common people, though the cheerful and bright Koriand’r was favored ever so slightly more than her sister Komand’r. This slight favoritism, barely perceptible to those not paying close attention, would eat at Komand’r all her life, a jealousy that would become a deadly resentment over the years. This was only made worse due to the fact that only one of them could inherit the role of the planet’s protector and champion, the Starfire.

This would come to a head when, during a training exercise with the legendary Warlords of Okaara, Komand’r staged an “accident” with the intent of killing Kory, but instead killed her betrothed, the beloved General Phy’zzon. Thinking quickly, Komand’r was able to cover her own crime as a failed assassination attempt by Tamaran’s eternal enemies, the dreaded Citadel. King Myand’r responded to this by declaring open war upon the Citadel, and the years of prosperity and joy gave way to terror and bloodshed.

Koriand’r inherited the role of Starfire after their father was slain fighting the Citadel’s shock troopers, and with the help of the Warlords of Okaara, led her people on multiple successful campaigns, much to Komand’r’s disdain. Just as Tamaran was on the cusp of victory, Komand’r stunned her people by betraying them, siding with the Citadel during a key battle for the sake of facing her hated sister in combat. Koriand’r held the upper hand in their battle, but could not bring herself to kill her own sister, a mercy that Komand’r exploited ruthlessly to defeat her. With Tamaran conquered and her sister in chains, Komand’r declared herself Queen Blackfire, a mockery of the title she had coveted for so long.

Koriand’r’s captivity would not last, however, as she soon fought her way free and stole away in a single-use jump pod as Citadel troops bore down on her. Desperate for somewhere safe, the ship’s navicomputer located a primitive backwater planet, whose inhabitants happen to look similar to Tamaranians by an absolutely staggering coincidence, and jumped away.

The power in Jump City has gone out. Rachel Roth has climbed up to the roof of her ratty apartment to see if she can read by moonlight. And what was a pinpoint of light in the night sky seems to be getting larger, and brighter, and closer…...

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:
Raven and Starfire is a pairing that I firmly believe is one of DC’s biggest untapped gold mines. While they love playing up the whole “one’s bright and happy, the other is dark and dour” routine with Batman and Superman, and even went so far as to rewrite Poison Ivy’s entire personality just to do it again in the Harley Quinn cartoon, they have yet to do it with what IMO is one of the most obvious duos, from a cartoon that basically everyone loves.

While their origin stories do border on being Very Serious (™), I want Kory and Rachel to effectively be a superhero equivalent of a buddy-cop-movie or an Odd Couple sitcom. Just, instead of a by-the-book veteran and a loose-cannon rookie, or an uptight businessman and his slovenly roommate, it’s a bubbly alien space-princess and the literal actual Anti-christ. Lethal Weapon with space battles and spandex, Rush Hour with demons and teen-drama, or maybe Perfect Strangers with explosions and doomsday cults. It’s something I have wanted to write for ages, but always put off for the sake of chasing a bigger fish.

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









S A M P L E P O S T:
"So, that's two hardbacks, three paperbacks, and a first edition," Rachel recounted in a disinterested monotone as the customer waited impatiently for her to punch everything into the cash register. "After tax, that comes out to fifty-two dollars and seventy-three cents."

The customer made a face, and attempted to haggle. "You sure that thing didn't make a mistake? Like, a glitch in the programming?"

Rachel gave him a deadpan glare, glanced down at the old analog register for a moment, then said, "You're right, sir, this completely non-digital machine must have had a hiccup in the software. If you'll give me a moment, I can call tech support and--"

"No, no, it's.....here you go," he said, producing three crumpled twenties from his wallet. "Y'know, learning a little customer service couldn't hurt."

"I provide the exact quality of service appropriate to the customer," she said, handing him his change. "Have a day."

Working at the House of Mystery, a gaudy title for what was in fact a dusty hole-in-the-wall bookstore, was far from the worst experience Rachel Roth could ask for. The walls were packed with old tomes and albums full of all sorts of interesting subjects: histories of long-lost civilizations, macabre biographies of infamous figures of folklore, encyclopedic catalogs of spirits and daemons, texts of everything from ancient Sumerian divination to the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, to folk religions like voodoo and santeria, to new-age paganism and chaos magic, even parlor tricks like sleight-of-hand and cold reading. Mr. Abel was a nice enough manager, though he was rarely around and left Rachel to tend the store by herself more often than not. Fine by her; more opportunities to get some reading in. The only problem was with the customers.

And of course, her new roommate.

"Friend Rachel," Kory said, drifting down the staircase, oblivious to the fact that she was floating nearly a foot off the ground and would have caused a panic if anyone else had seen it, "I am having the difficulty interfacing with this data-storage device."

Rachel glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "You mean that book?"

"Yes, this 'boook,'" she replied, mispronouncing the 'oo' sound. "While I see the data runes inscribed, I cannot activate them to call upon its internal AI construct and begin the holo-feed."

Rachel blinked in confusion, then shook her head.

"Internal AI--? No, Kory, you just," Rachel took the book out of Kory's hands and opened it. "You just read the 'data runes,' and that's how you get the information. There's no holograms or AI or anything."

"....but this is an account of romantic interest," Kory said, confused. "Without a holo-feed, how will I see the techniques employed?"

"Just....use your imagination. Your mind will picture everything for you."

Kory gave uncertain glances back and forth between Rachel and the book.

"...so I am to stare at symbols on a slice of dead vegetable matter," she tried to put the pieces together, "until I begin to hallucinate images and sounds? And that is how information is shared on this world?"

"....well, when you put it like that--"

"That is wonderous!" Kory exclaimed. "Voluntary hallucinogens without chemical stimulation? Never have I heard of such a thing! But what, then, are the side effects of exposure to the booooks?"

"....you get smarter?"

Kory's eyes went wide, like the first time she had ever seen a star going nova.

Before this could continue, outside the store, a siren blared, an engine roaring as a large red shape blurred past the shop window.

"What was the purpose of the noise-making vehicle?"

"Huh? Oh, that's a fire engine," Rachel shrugged. "They're just on their way to put out a fire somewhere down the block."

"A fire?!" Kory gasped. "Then the innocents are imperiled! We must be quick to act!"

Dropping the book, Kory stripped off her shirt and began undoing her pants.

"Kory! What are you doing?!

"I am exchanging my civilian garb for my proper battle regalia," she answered, a purple tube-top and skirt appearing over her body like magic. "How else will the innocents know that a champion protector is here to assist them?" With a gasp of realization, Kory grabbed at the tail of Rachel's shirt. "Quickly, you must change into your battle regalia as well!"

Rachel sputtered, and swatted Kory's hands away. "Hey, that's--knock it off, I don't have 'battle regalia!'"

Kory stopped, staring at Rachel as though she had said she eats rocks.

"That is not acceptable," Kory shook her head, then grabbed Rachel by the wrist. "Come, we will assist with the fighting of fires, and then we shall locate a member of your merchant caste who can procure proper regalia for you! There is little of the time to be wasting!"

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


In A L I E N : Tales from the Frontier → 4 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Interest Checks

T A L E S F R O M T H E F R O N T I E R



P R E M I S E:

It is the year 2182, and mankind is struggling to find its place among the stars. Having turned mother Earth into a polluted, overpopulated, miserable hive of the desperately poor living in the shadows of the unfathomably rich, humanity has sought out new opportunities in the Outer Veil. A web of colonies, mines, stations, and shipping lanes connect hundreds of planets, moons, and asteroids in the region of the galaxy that has come to be known as the Middle Heavens. The United Americas, the Three Worlds Empire, and the Union of Progressive Peoples have been locked in a perpetual three-way cold war for control over this web of sparsely-populated worlds, while all three line the pockets of the ambitious and utterly ruthless Weyland-Yutani Corporation and its competitors. For those who live in the far-off worlds of the Frontier, though, this politicking and intrigue doesn't mean much compared to the challenge of simply making it through the day in one piece.

That's where you come in. Maybe you're an Earther, who saw the chance to pull yourself out of the grime and misery and managed to take a job off-world. Maybe you're a freelancer, with a small ship of your own and big debts to pay for it. Maybe you're an agent for the Company, seeking new opportunities for revenue, as well as a chance to climb a few more rungs up that ladder. Or maybe you're a kid raised out here in the Frontier, more interested in exploring the nooks and crannies of the station than whatever dull grown-up business your parents are tending to. One way or another, you have found your way to the ass-end of space, and it's on you to figure out how to get by.

Bear in mind, 'getting by' is harder than most planet-bound folks would ever believe. Space itself is huge, cold, and utterly unforgiving. If it's not gamma bursts or neutrino fields cooking you alive, or black holes pulling you into oblivion, or an unexpected chunk of debris smashing your ship's hull at an inopportune moment, it's the unknowable light years of complete and utter nothing that will starve you and freeze you and drive you insane. Accidents happen, parts break down, people turn on each other, and lives are snuffed out.

And those are just the tragedies that have explanations. Every once in a while, a ship, a station, even an entire colony, will just...go dark. No explanation given, no story or excuse, the names and places will just vanish from the map, and from Company records, like they never existed. Such things are dismissed as the ramblings of conspiracy theorists, perhaps UPP propaganda or anti-Company fear-mongering.

Still, there are names that any aspiring corporate executive, government official, or military officer knows full well to avoid. Names like the Nostromo. Or Sevastapol Station. Or Hadley's Hope.

Rumors have circulated for years about ancient ruins on forgotten planets, "ghost ships" full of horrors best left undiscovered, and hostile creatures that are the very stuff of nightmares. Most seasoned spacers know bullshit when they hear it, but if even the smallest part of those rumors are true, then maybe mankind should have never left the confines of Earth in the first place.

Still, you're here in the far end of the Frontier, and you've got a job to do. Best to keep your head on a swivel, your reflexes sharp, and an eye on any dark corners. There are no grand heroes to save the day out here, only grunts and assholes and the occasional halfway decent human being, and a thousand horrible things lurking in the shadows.

As the old saying goes, in space, no one can hear you scream.



P R O P O S A L:

I would like to run a persistent roleplaying campaign set in the universe of the Alien movies, using the RPG system developed by Free League Games (the free Quickstart PDF hasn't come out yet, but it's based on the same mechanics as their older game Coriolis, the quick rules for which can be found here). Rather than a single ongoing plot, the idea is to have a series of interconnected one-shot adventures with lots of different things that can go badly. While the Aliens themselves are the headline attraction, they are far from the only danger players will encounter, both in terms of otherworldly horrors and just the regular dangers of space travel (think of movies like Sunshine or Europa Report for examples of 'mundane' space horror). If your character survives to the end of an encounter, they may return later as a recurring hero or villain.

However, that's a big 'if.' As this is a horror game, it is entirely possible (and very likely) that most if not all of a crew on any given mission will die in very nasty ways. While I do not intend to get overly explicit with things like sexual content (although that is definitely a part of it if you look at HR Giger's artwork), I am marking this game as 18+ due to the fact that the Alien series has its fair share of blood, gore, and grotesque body horror. As this game takes cues from the first movie rather than the second, trying to be a guns-blazing action hero will likely get you killed very quickly. Unless you're a squad of heavily armed Colonial Marines, trying to stand and fight with even a single Alien will almost always end poorly-- and even if you are a squad of heavily armed Colonial Marines, your odds aren't stellar.

Survival-horror is the name of the game, with players having to rely on teamwork, creative problem solving, and possibly self-sacrificing heroics to make it through increasingly awful situations. Stay alive, stay sane, and stay human.
In DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Sample post for Rave/Star is up. Also added character notes for the potential shenanigans they may get up to this season.
In DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
<Snipped quote by webboysurf>

Well, at least Ravenfire have their SOs now.


I hope not; Kory and Rachel are only 16 at the moment.
In DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
S T A R F I R E / R A V E N

Princess Koriand’r/Rachel Roth ♦ Exiled Princess of Tamaran/Ex-Cultist and current Runaway ♦ Jump City, California, USA ♦ Independent


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

"Evil beware, for we are here to lick your anuses!"

"....it’s ‘kick,’ not ‘lick,’ we’re here to kick their--.....you know what, never mind, AZARATH METREON ZINTHOS!!!!"

Rachel Roth has been surrounded by the occult since the day she was born. Her mother Arella, a second-generation hippie quick to buy into whatever new-wave feel-good movement could hold her attention, was barely eighteen when she was inducted into the Children of Azaroth, a spiritual-science order who claimed to be connected to astral beings on a higher plane of existence. There, she fell in love with a handsome young man by the name of Sebastian Blood, an eccentric multi-millionaire who seduced her and lured Arella into his mansion in the Hollywood hills. While Arella didn’t remember much of that night, she would have nightmares for years about the man she made love to actually being a hulking giant with eyes of fire.

Arella’s daughter Rachel was disillusioned with the Children of Azaroth almost immediately, especially while watching her mother’s mental health deteriorate. Despite this, she found herself enamored with occult literature and history, perhaps determined to find the ‘real’ magic that the amateurish cult had so clearly failed to produce. Mature before her age, she developed an ever-present cynicism and biting sarcasm, as well as nearly impenetrable emotional walls to resist the Children’s conditioning.

On her sixteenth birthday, Rachel received the greatest surprise of her life-- and nearly her last as well. Her supposed father Sebastian Blood had returned to the compound, showering her with gifts and throwing a magnificent party, before attempting to drug and murder the young girl in a ritualistic sacrifice. Much to the surprise of everyone in the room, a pitch-black shadow erupted from Rachel’s body and hurled the cultists aside like ragdolls. Confused and terrified, yet seeing the opportunity to escape, Rachel fled the cult for good. After hitchhiking north, she found her way to Jump City, where she currently works as an assistant at an old book store, half her meager wages paying for the dingy loft apartment above the shop.

Several million light years away, the lush and vibrant world of Tamaran had enjoyed sixteen cycles of prosperity and happiness under the rule of the just and mighty King Myand’r. His twin daughters were beloved by the common people, though the cheerful and bright Koriand’r was favored ever so slightly more than her sister Komand’r. This slight favoritism, barely perceptible to those not paying close attention, would eat at Komand’r all her life, a jealousy that would become a deadly resentment over the years. This was only made worse due to the fact that only one of them could inherit the role of the planet’s protector and champion, the Starfire.

This would come to a head when, during a training exercise with the legendary Warlords of Okaara, Komand’r staged an “accident” with the intent of killing Kory, but instead killed her betrothed, the beloved General Phy’zzon. Thinking quickly, Komand’r was able to cover her own crime as a failed assassination attempt by Tamaran’s eternal enemies, the dreaded Citadel. King Myand’r responded to this by declaring open war upon the Citadel, and the years of prosperity and joy gave way to terror and bloodshed.

Koriand’r inherited the role of Starfire after their father was slain fighting the Citadel’s shock troopers, and with the help of the Warlords of Okaara, led her people on multiple successful campaigns, much to Komand’r’s disdain. Just as Tamaran was on the cusp of victory, Komand’r stunned her people by betraying them, siding with the Citadel during a key battle for the sake of facing her hated sister in combat. Koriand’r held the upper hand in their battle, but could not bring herself to kill her own sister, a mercy that Komand’r exploited ruthlessly to defeat her. With Tamaran conquered and her sister in chains, Komand’r declared herself Queen Blackfire, a mockery of the title she had coveted for so long.

Koriand’r’s captivity would not last, however, as she soon fought her way free and stole away in a single-use jump pod as Citadel troops bore down on her. Desperate for somewhere safe, the ship’s navicomputer located a primitive backwater planet, whose inhabitants happen to look similar to Tamaranians by an absolutely staggering coincidence, and jumped away.

The power in Jump City has gone out. Rachel Roth has climbed up to the roof of her ratty apartment to see if she can read by moonlight. And what was a pinpoint of light in the night sky seems to be getting larger, and brighter, and closer…...

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:
Raven and Starfire is a pairing that I firmly believe is one of DC’s biggest untapped gold mines. While they love playing up the whole “one’s bright and happy, the other is dark and dour” routine with Batman and Superman, and even went so far as to rewrite Poison Ivy’s entire personality just to do it again in the Harley Quinn cartoon, they have yet to do it with what IMO is one of the most obvious duos, from a cartoon that basically everyone loves.

While their origin stories do border on being Very Serious (™), I want Kory and Rachel to effectively be a superhero equivalent of a buddy-cop-movie or an Odd Couple sitcom. Just, instead of a by-the-book veteran and a loose-cannon rookie, or an uptight businessman and his slovenly roommate, it’s a bubbly alien space-princess and the literal actual Anti-christ. Lethal Weapon with space battles and spandex, Rush Hour with demons and teen-drama, or maybe Perfect Strangers with explosions and doomsday cults. It’s something I have wanted to write for ages, but always put off for the sake of chasing a bigger fish.

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









S A M P L E P O S T:
"So, that's two hardbacks, three paperbacks, and a first edition," Rachel recounted in a disinterested monotone as the customer waited impatiently for her to punch everything into the cash register. "After tax, that comes out to fifty-two dollars and seventy-three cents."

The customer made a face, and attempted to haggle. "You sure that thing didn't make a mistake? Like, a glitch in the programming?"

Rachel gave him a deadpan glare, glanced down at the old analog register for a moment, then said, "You're right, sir, this completely non-digital machine must have had a hiccup in the software. If you'll give me a moment, I can call tech support and--"

"No, no, it's.....here you go," he said, producing three crumpled twenties from his wallet. "Y'know, learning a little customer service couldn't hurt."

"I provide the exact quality of service appropriate to the customer," she said, handing him his change. "Have a day."

Working at the House of Mystery, a gaudy title for what was in fact a dusty hole-in-the-wall bookstore, was far from the worst experience Rachel Roth could ask for. The walls were packed with old tomes and albums full of all sorts of interesting subjects: histories of long-lost civilizations, macabre biographies of infamous figures of folklore, encyclopedic catalogs of spirits and daemons, texts of everything from ancient Sumerian divination to the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, to folk religions like voodoo and santeria, to new-age paganism and chaos magic, even parlor tricks like sleight-of-hand and cold reading. Mr. Abel was a nice enough manager, though he was rarely around and left Rachel to tend the store by herself more often than not. Fine by her; more opportunities to get some reading in. The only problem was with the customers.

And of course, her new roommate.

"Friend Rachel," Kory said, drifting down the staircase, oblivious to the fact that she was floating nearly a foot off the ground and would have caused a panic if anyone else had seen it, "I am having the difficulty interfacing with this data-storage device."

Rachel glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "You mean that book?"

"Yes, this 'boook,'" she replied, mispronouncing the 'oo' sound. "While I see the data runes inscribed, I cannot activate them to call upon its internal AI construct and begin the holo-feed."

Rachel blinked in confusion, then shook her head.

"Internal AI--? No, Kory, you just," Rachel took the book out of Kory's hands and opened it. "You just read the 'data runes,' and that's how you get the information. There's no holograms or AI or anything."

"....but this is an account of romantic interest," Kory said, confused. "Without a holo-feed, how will I see the techniques employed?"

"Just....use your imagination. Your mind will picture everything for you."

Kory gave uncertain glances back and forth between Rachel and the book.

"...so I am to stare at symbols on a slice of dead vegetable matter," she tried to put the pieces together, "until I begin to hallucinate images and sounds? And that is how information is shared on this world?"

"....well, when you put it like that--"

"That is wonderous!" Kory exclaimed. "Voluntary hallucinogens without chemical stimulation? Never have I heard of such a thing! But what, then, are the side effects of exposure to the booooks?"

"....you get smarter?"

Kory's eyes went wide, like the first time she had ever seen a star going nova.

Before this could continue, outside the store, a siren blared, an engine roaring as a large red shape blurred past the shop window.

"What was the purpose of the noise-making vehicle?"

"Huh? Oh, that's a fire engine," Rachel shrugged. "They're just on their way to put out a fire somewhere down the block."

"A fire?!" Kory gasped. "Then the innocents are imperiled! We must be quick to act!"

Dropping the book, Kory stripped off her shirt and began undoing her pants.

"Kory! What are you doing?!

"I am exchanging my civilian garb for my proper battle regalia," she answered, a purple tube-top and skirt appearing over her body like magic. "How else will the innocents know that a champion protector is here to assist them?" With a gasp of realization, Kory grabbed at the tail of Rachel's shirt. "Quickly, you must change into your battle regalia as well!"

Rachel sputtered, and swatted Kory's hands away. "Hey, that's--knock it off, I don't have 'battle regalia!'"

Kory stopped, staring at Rachel as though she had said she eats rocks.

"That is not acceptable," Kory shook her head, then grabbed Rachel by the wrist. "Come, we will assist with the fighting of fires, and then we shall locate a member of your merchant caste who can procure proper regalia for you! There is little of the time to be wasting!"

P O S T C A T A L O G:
A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed arcs and stories.

In DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
<Snipped quote by AndyC>

Is it too late to swap Zatanna for Raven to fuck with you?


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