AndyC

Deadlands: Tales o' the Weird West

I never got into dealing with the topic, because A) I don't think pulp adventure stories are the most appropriate platform to discuss heavy real-world atrocities, and B) it never figured into the written adventure paths. I always used the Confederates as an easy-to-hate villain faction and let the players decide how much they wanted to fill in the blanks. Like how comics and games and movies have used the Nazis as easy villains for decades without needing to bring up the Holocaust every single time.

Deadlands: Tales o' the Weird West

This seems really intriguing to me, too. Given that this would be a more sandbox style outside of the overarching plot, might I ask as to the number of players you'd want?

@seonhyang

Looking for a core of 4 or 5 players to get the ball rolling. Given the sandbox style there's not much of an upper limit of players, but realistically I'm not expecting more than 7 or 8 tops.

Deadlands: Tales o' the Weird West

Tentatively interested.

Just to be clear, are you going for the lore of Deadlands Classic here? For example, I believe Shane Hensley retconned that the War ended by 1871 in the Savage Worlds version.

@Humble1

Yeah, we're sticking to OG. Nothing particularly against the Savage Worlds version, I just know the classic lore better.

Deadlands: Tales o' the Weird West

This sounds really cool! I'd be interested in joining for sure. I did want to ask, though—will you be leaning on any of the mechanics from Deadlands or will this be purely based on the setting alone?

@Fiscbryne

Probably the latter, since I don't really know how to incorporate a deck of poker cards into a forum-based game.

Deadlands: Tales o' the Weird West

The setting/lore is highly compelling to me, my one question would be what the setup is in terms of plot? Are you aiming for a sandbox RP or a more structured narrative?

@Rapid Reader

Sandbox; I'll have an overarching plot that players can participate in if they want, but they're also welcome to do their own thing.

Deadlands: Tales o' the Weird West

TALES O' THE WEIRD WEST

A little mood music

Premise:

---

Some folks think the whole world's gone to hell. But they've got it all backwards. You see, ever since some damn fool opened the door for 'em, hell's been making its way here.

Most of us didn't realize the world was turning sour until July of '63, when the dead rose at Gettysburg. Even then, it was easy for most to dismiss the stories of walking corpses as the ravings of poor addled souls who'd seen too much bloodshed. Any doubts that the door between this world and the next was flung wide open, though, were crushed when the Sioux Nation rose up, using unnatural powers to reclaim the land that had been taken from them. The Civil War broke down into a never-ending mess, neither the North or South able to fight for too long before risking another outbreak of the undead, or worse, corrupting the land itself with a mass of angry spirits.

Things weren't helped by the Great Quake of '68, which split the Earth open an' utterly destroyed the California Territory. In what was left over, a giant treacherous wasteland called the Maze, they found Ghost Rock, a new type of fuel that made coal look like nothin' in comparison. The really smart types, the scientists an' inventors an' whatnot, began comin' up with all sorts of crazy contraptions to do impossible things. 'course, most of these really smart types had a tendency to go out of their damn minds pursuin' their knowledge, an' some folks believe that their "inspiring sparks of genius" were voices from another world. That didn't stop the rush for Ghost Rock, an' now the North, the South, the Sioux, hell, even the Mormons in Deseret will do just about anything to get their hands on some, an' make God knows what with it once they get it.

It's '77 now, an' things haven't gotten any better. The North an' South are still going at it, the Sioux have united most of the tribes out West to push back both of 'em, an' most of the Maze has fallen under the influence of a madman only known as Reverend Grimme, who rules from the ruins of Los Angeles-- now reborn as the City of Lost Angels. Doomsday cults an' worshippers of weird an' evil gods have cropped up like weeds from Saint Louis to Salt Lake City. And the less said about the...things....that have been crawlin' out of the Maze, the better.

If there's any good news, is that none of it's bullet-proof. 'least, that's what they say. They a lot of things these days.

They say that men in black coats ride into town after strange things occur, but no one can remember their faces when they leave.

They say there's things in the open desert that can swallow a steam engine whole.

They say the ghosts of Custer an' his men rampage across the plains at night, cuttin' down any soul unlucky enough to be in their way.

An' they say that if you find yourself sitting alone at a card table at sundown, you might be joined by a man in red who gambles for more than just money.

'course, that's all just 'what they say.' If you wanna last long out in the Deadlands, don't believe anything you hear. An' it's better if you don't believe about half of what you see, either.

---

Overview:

---

Setting: Deadwood, South Dakota
Time Frame: Summer of 1877
Themes: Adventure, horror, mystery, conspiracy, weird fantasy (not that kind)
Style Wanted: Advanced, so at least four paragraphs per post. Character images and formatting text are preferred, but not required.
Character Types Wanted: Gunslingers, lawmen, Native braves or shamans, gamblers, swindlers, femmes fatale, preachers, detectives, rustlers, cut throats, murderers, bounty hunters, desperados, mugs, pugs, thugs, nitwits, halfwits, dimwits, vipers, snipers, con men....

Tales o' the Weird West is an open-world game set in the universe of the old Deadlands RPG-- a supernatural-horror Western full of gunslingers, black magic, bandits, mad science, cults, conspiracies, and the poor folks who just happen to get caught up in the middle of it all. This is a world where the dead rarely stay quiet, where monsters lurk in every dark corner, and where Evil with a capital "E" gains ground day by day. It's also a world where the brave, the faithful, and the just-plain crazy can take up a six-shooter and face down their demons in a very literal sense. It's grim and gritty, and at the same time it's completely out-there and ridiculous, so players can approach it in any way they wish.

The exact details of the official lore aren't massively important for characters and stories, so long as it fits within the "Weird West" setting. Steampunk, gothic horror, Spaghetti Westerns, even Lovecraft are all fair game here. If you want to live out your dreams of The Man With No Name and the Rocketeer getting hired by Al Swearingen to stop Count Dracula from summoning Cthulhu, then you've come to the right place.

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So, as it probably comes as no surprise to anyone, given that I've been inactive for about a month, I'm gonna go ahead and free up Clark and the rest of the S-cast to anyone who wants a crack at it.

Funny thing is, watching the pilot of Superman and Lois did get me energized to write Supes again....just not in this setting. I have a bunch of ideas bubbling, and I need to let them percolate before I hammer out a new concept, either in this game or another one.

①⑨⑥⑧

---

THE FOLLOWING PROGRAM IS BROUGHT TO YOU IN LIVING COLOR, ON NBC.

"This is Laurence Spivak, inviting you to Meet the Press. My fellow panelists this evening are the esteemed anchor from WGBS, Mr. G. Gordon Godfrey...."

"Good evening, Laurence, and good evening, America."

"....and Pulitzer Prize winning reporter for the Daily Planet, Lois Lane-Kent."

"A pleasure, Laurence."

"Our guest this evening is one of the most controversial figures in American history. A former criminal and self-avowed "super-villain," and an outspoken critic of both Superman in particular and the growing superhuman community at large, best-selling author and Chief Executive Officer of LexCo Industries, Mr. Lex Luthor."

"Thank you, it's good to see you again, Laurence, Gordon. And it's always a pleasure to see you, Miss Lane."

"Missus. Lane. Kent."

"If you insist."

"Now now, I know you two have some personal history, but let's maintain some decorum."

"Indeed. Now, Mister Luthor, you've written several books that have been the cause of a great deal of controversy over the years. Fire to the People, The World in a Bottle, and Truth to Power have all been met with both praise and scorn. Some would call your works powerful condemnations of the status quo--"

"And some would call them the narcissistic sermonizing of a bloodthirsty megalomaniac."

"Missus Kent, please--"

"Oh, it's quite all right, Laurence. Miss Lane and I have gone back and forth plenty of times, and--"

"I told you, it's--"

"annnnd I've learned to take her jabs and snipes as all part of due course. Frankly, if she wasn't insulting me, I'd have to wonder what was wrong. Now then, Mr. Godfrey, I believe you had a question?"

"Indeed I do. In your latest book, The Problem of Evil, you point out several 'inspirational figures,' which include Atilla the Hun, Genghis Khan, Francisco Pizarro, even Adolf Hitler and Josef Stalin. How can you justify telling the average American that these people are who they should emulate?"

"Well, Gordon, you have to understand that the very nature of these men is what set them apart from the average John and Mary Q. Public. Most would consider their deeds....disasteful, to say the least--"

"Hmph. Only Lex Luthor could describe mass-murdering butchers as 'distasteful.'"

"Missus Kent, please--"

"Actually, Miss Lane's reaction is precisely what I mean. The average person responds to the actions of conquerors and dictators with revulsion and outrage. Because what they do is 'evil,' according to the tenets of modern society. We are told from birth that there is a certain way we must behave, in order to function as part of the world in which we live. We cannot indulge in certain vices, we cannot strive for our heart's desires, we must not say what we truly feel. After all, what the neighbors think?"

"And you admire conquerors and dictators for disregarding moral standards?"

"Not exactly. If I were to look up to those who simply followed whatever whim or urge tugged at them, then my greatest hero would be a drunk lying in a gutter, or the long-haired degenerates along the West Coast. No, it is not merely a matter of not caring what the neighbors think. It is about having a vision, and having the power and more importantly, the will to make that vision reality. These conquerors, these dictators, these 'monsters,' turned the world upside-down, because they believed whole-heartedly that they could do it, and then they made it happen. Honestly, can you think of a better role model for your own life?"

"One certainly comes to mind...."

---

The Circum-Pacific Belt, better known as the "Ring of Fire," is a path along the Pacific Ocean containing most of the world's active volcanoes. Plate tectonics create an unusually high concentration of earthquakes and volcanic activity in this area, jeopardizing millions of lives in coastal cities and island nations. Naturally, I spend a lot of time here.

This one is a fairly powerful eruption, on one of the smaller islands that make up Indonesia. Only a few thousand people live here, in a small fishing village by the looks of it, but it doesn't matter if it's a small village or a big city-- lives are in danger, which means I'm on the job.

It looks like there are already rescue boats not too far from the shore, and most of the villagers are crowded onto the beach, waiting to be ferried to safety. Still, not everyone is so lucky.

"<Mama! Papa!>"

"<Someone help us!>"

I focus my vision close in to the island, and see two kids, stranded on the roof of a burning house. Lava is already flowing down the dirt road in front of them, swallowing up the buildings around them. I don't see anyone else in the surrounding area-- either their parents ran to the beach without them, or they didn't make it.

There's a crunch, the sound of splintering wood as the house begins to collapse.

The roof caves in.

Embers fly, and the flames roar.

The house is swallowed by the torrent of molten rock....

....and I deliver the kids safely on the beach.

"<...th--thank you,>" one of them stammers.

"<Not a problem,>" I say with a reassuring smile.

"<Our M-mama.....our Papa....>"

"<....I'm sorry....>" is all I can say.

Twenty years ago-- hell, even ten years ago-- I would have been able to cross the distance between Metropolis and Indonesia before you could blink, and still have enough left in me to tidy everything up before anyone even realized I was there. Now, though, I'm struggling. It took me almost ten minutes, and I had to catch my breath before I could start working.

There's another rumble from the volcano, and people begin to scream.

No time to feel sorry for myself. There's still a job to do.

---

"Obviously, he means well, or at the very least he's convinced himself that he does. But he's spent thirty years putting out fires, pulling cats out of trees--"

"--stopping world-threatening disasters, saving millions of lives--"

"--and what has it gotten him? Is he any better off than he was in '38? Everyone likes to believe that Superman lives in some grand castle, some mythical fortress when he's not punching out robots or bench-pressing skyscrapers, but for all we know, he could live alone in some flea-bitten apartment in Suicide Slum. He hasn't earned a penny for years of impossibly hard work, and everyone considers him a 'hero' for it. But the novelty has worn off, hasn't it? His influence, his social profile, hasn't grown in years. If anything, it's on a downward trend. He'll spend the rest of his life spinning his proverbial wheels, chasing one emergency after another, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders--sometimes literally-- and at the end of it all he'll have nothing to show for it."

---

"Everyone stay back!" I shout to the crowd of panicked islanders as I plunge the enormous boulder into the channel of molten lava. "I'm going to dig a channel, see if I can redirect the lava flow into the ocean! Get to the--"

KA-BOOOOOOMMM!!!!!!

The volcano's top blows again, spewing up gouts of molten rock, raining fiery debris down across the island, and belching toxic smoke into the air. If I don't do something quick, the whole island and everyone on it will go up in flames.

"Okay," I say to myself as I grit my teeth. "Playing defense isn't working here. Let's try going on the offensive."

I speed towards the volcano with my fists clenched hard, and spear into the hard rock.

Drill holes through the crust and into the main shaft, that's the plan. Create vents for the gas and magma to seep out, prevent more pressure from building up.

As solid rock shatters and gives way for me, I feel something else beyond the stone scraping against my skin. A thin film of moisture, beading up across my forehead and stinging my eyes. Sweat. I'm actually sweating.

I've handled volcanoes before. And hurricanes, and earthquakes, tornadoes, plane crashes, runaway trains, nuclear meltdowns, you name it. And it's always just been a matter of course, all in a day's work. The only time I've found myself sweating or struggling for breath is either when I've been poisoned by Kryptonite, or when I'm being pushed to my very limits.

But there isn't a hint of that awful green rock anywhere around. And General Zod, Bizarro, Brainiac, those are the threats that push my to my limits. Not something as routine as a volcano, right?

Focus, Clark, these people need your help. You've still got it in you. All you have to do is--

I strike a pocket of magma, and a wave of liquid-hot earth washes over me.

Some people think Kryptonite is the only thing that can hurt me. That's not entirely true-- Kryptonite may be the only thing that can kill me. But there are plenty of things that hurt. And being submerged in two-thousand-degree heat hurts an awful lot.

I tumble head-over-heels inside the inferno.

I can't tell which way is up.

I can't breathe.

I can't see anything but burning orange light.

Come on, Clark. You've still got this.

You've still got this.

You've still--

---

"I'm not saying he's foolish for doing what he does. I'm saying he can do anything he wishes, have anything he desires, and yet he doesn't. Because he isn't honest with himself about what he wants. Men like Khan, like Alexander and Atilla, like Hitler and Stalin and Mao, they are honest about what they want. And so am I."

"And what, exactly, is it that you want?"

"The same thing everyone wants, if we're all being truthful. I want to rule the world."

"Hah! Good luck with that, Lex. Nobody's going to fall for someone as transparently evil as you."

"Oh? Let me ask you, Miss Lane--"

"For the last time, it's Missus--"

"Yes, yes, so you keep claiming. But let me ask you: do you think the Nazis put some sort of magic spell over the German people? They knew Hitler and his ilk would start a war that would kill countless people, and they welcomed them into power with open arms. The communists in Russia, China, Korea, and all over the world rule over their people with iron fists, their primary levers of state power are the gulag and the firing squad, and yet there are people in the so-called 'Free World' who want that very same system implemented here. Even now, we uphold a status quo that victimizes whole swaths of people based on their skin color or their sex, and we celebrate sending thousands of young men overseas to slaughter a weaker nation that poses no threat to our global hegemony, because we benefit from it. My own company makes millions, not just from lucrative military contracts, but from home appliances and electronics that you can buy at your corner store, and the general public knows that I'm, as your caped old-flame has so eloquently put it, a 'diseased maniac.' I think you'll find that the average person has far more of a stomach for evil than you would care to admit."

"And this is why you think people will allow you to 'rule the world,' as you say? Because you think people will benefit from it?"

"To be frank, whether people allow me to rule them isn't really a factor. And I make no claim that anyone but myself will benefit. And that's the point, the true problem of evil in the world. It isn't honest with itself. The Nazis, the Marxists, the Klan, the flag-waving imperialists, all hold onto the illusion that their evil deeds are for the greater good. I hold no such illusions anymore. I don't claim I want to rule the world because you'll be better with me in charge. I want to rule the world because I want to rule the world. Simple as that. I have a goal, and I have the will to make it happen."

"You just effectively declared you intend to overthrow the United States government, on live television. What's to stop them from putting you behind bars right now?"

"While I'm sure the image of me rotting away in a prison cell brings you no end of joy, I've never said I would overthrow anything. There are plenty of ways to rule the world without ousting anyone from their positions of imagined power. Politics are only one route among many to achieve power, you see. And the more people realize that, the more they can benefit from it. With enough ambition and enough willpower, anyone can rule the world."

"And what makes you think anyone will buy into this gospel of egotism you've concocted? You might dismiss what Superman stands for, but he's not the only one out there fighting the good fight."

"Oh, I don't dismiss Superman, even if I oppose him. But just look into the halls of power-- the Capitol, the Kremlin, Downing Street, Wall Street, Beijing, anywhere you like. How many Boy Scouts and selfless do-gooders do you see there? After three decades of 'fighting the good fight,' as you say, it seems to me that when it comes to making an actual difference in the world, there are still far more people like me than there are people like him."

---

I tumble endlessly through fire and pain.

There's no surface to push off of, no ceiling to break through.

Even with my eyes closed, I can see searing orange light.

How long has it been? A few seconds? Minutes? Hours? I can't tell. It feels like it just happened, but at the same time feels like I've been in this pit forever.

All those people. They were counting on me. They're burning now. Because I failed them.

Because I couldn't--

Suddenly, I feel something grab me by the scruff of my neck and pull me hard.

A second later, a rush of cool night air-- well, 'cool' by comparison-- washes over me.

I fall to my knees, and I begin coughing up the liquid agony that had filled my lungs.

"BLEEEEAAAAAAGGGHHHH!" I retch, emptying first my lungs, then my stomach, spewing hot lava onto the sands of the beach. "....oh God....."

I take a few moments to catch my breath. I don't dare open my eyes-- I don't want to see what the volcano has done to the poor villagers.

"Oh God," I say again between ragged gasps. "All those people. I tried.....I tried to save them.....they're--"

"They're fine, Kal."

At hearing a familiar voice, I open my eyes.

"I was able to get them all onto the rescue boats. They're safe now."

"...Kara?" I say as I struggle to my feet, and rub bits of cooling gravel out of my eyes. "And the volcano, did you--"

"I dug trenches around the village to save what was left of it," she says confidently. "And I drilled some vents into the mountain itself. Or rather, I picked up where you left off on doing those-- I don't know if I would have thought of that myself."

My cousin Kara's been on the job for three years now, and while she's done some exemplary work as 'Supergirl,' she's still learning. I have to admit, though, she's got spirit, and potential. I couldn't do half of what she can do when I was her age.

"Good.....good work," I manage, before falling back onto my backside. Kara sits down beside me, and her smile softens.

"Rough day?"

".....you could say that," I say with a weak chuckle.

"Well, I'm glad I was able to follow your lead," she says with a pat on the shoulder. "I know Lois's interview with Luthor is almost over, so I'll bet she's had a rough time too. I can handle the clean-up from here if you want to take the rest of the night off."

I sit up, a bit of indignation on my face.

"Superman doesn't take nights off," I tell her, trying to straighten up as best as I can.

"Call it a training exercise, then," she says, "I haven't had a chance to patrol solo yet; let me take care of things for a while so you and Lois can unwind. And if things get hairy, you can always show up and bail me out."

I mull it over for a moment. I can't let people down, sit around while lives are in danger. It's not what Ma and Pa would have wanted. It's not what Jor-El would have wanted. And it's not what I want.

Then I feel my muscles aching, my back and neck going stiff, and my skin still smarting from exposure to the lava.

".....a training exercise," I say with a sigh. "Sure. Let's....let's see how you handle things. You know where the key to the Fortress is. If you need anything, I'll....I'll be there."

She smiles, and with that, we both take to the skies and go our separate ways. Kara starts flying west towards Japan and Eastern Asia. I start heading East, back towards the States, towards Metropolis and home.

It's been a rough day. And I hate to say it, but I've been having these rough days more often.

Maybe a night off is just what I need.

①⑨⑥⑧

@Simple Unicycle


I'm still trying to figure out how to incorporate a very large ladder into one of my plots.

@Hexaflexagon

"What a thrill...."

①⑨⑥⑧

Yup.

S U P E R M A N

Clark Kent, Age 55 (b. 1913)
_{Based in Metropolis, Delaware
Active since approximately 1938}

Character Concept

---

Hider

Raised by loving parents in an idyllic small rural town in the rolling hills of Kansas, Clark Kent was a kind and gentle soul, who had the strength of a giant before he was in grammar school. Fearing what might happen to the boy if his immense powers were made public before he knew what to do with them, the wise Jonathan Kent and his caring wife Martha instilled in their son a moral compass as strong and unstoppable as his muscles, and an understanding of why he needed to keep his gifts a secret until he was old enough to use them with a purpose.

As a teenager, Clark learned the truth behind these gifts: he wasn't born in Smallville, but came crashing down in a rocket ship from another world. He had been sent to Earth for a reason, but neither he nor his parents could puzzle out what that reason was. When a tornado came tearing through Smallville not long after his eighteenth birthday, Clark saw and heard the good people of his home town calling out for help, and in that moment he realized what his purpose would be. He leapt into action, zipping folks from danger to safety
faster than the eye could blink, and battled the twister head-on like a figure out of a tall tale. Clark Kent fought the forces of nature itself, and by all accounts, he won.

In the aftermath, Clark decided it would be best if he lay low for a while, and packed his bags. Taking a pair of suitcases with him-- one containing his regular clothes and necessities, the other containing the mysterious blue costume and red boots and cape that had been found in his rocket ship as a baby, Clark hitchhiked his way across America for seven years, helping out where he could and then vanishing before folks could ask too many questions. Finally, he found himself on the East Coast, in the hustle and bustle of Metropolis, where he was forced to step in on an armed robbery carried out by the notorious gangster Bruno Mannheim. Deciding to don his colorful otherworldly costume as a form of disguise, Clark was able to act out in the open for the first time, dispatching the criminals with ease. The S-like symbol on the front of his outfit drew the attention of the press as much as his fantastic abilities, and the intrepid reporter Lois Lane would christen the mysterious strongman "Superman."

For the next few years, Superman found a home in Metropolis, toppling criminal syndicates and foiling mad bombers while his alter-ego, the mild-mannered Clark Kent, found work as a reporter for the Daily Planet. In the city streets, he would battle with the Ultra-Humanite, the Bulleteers, the Arctic Giant, and the man who would become his lifelong nemesis, the dastardly mad scientist Lex Luthor. In the newsroom, Clark would find an equally devious and diabolical rival in Lois Lane, who would often find herself mooning over Superman while dismissing Clark as a milquetoast and a yokel. Over time, however, the two would warm up to each other, and begin a budding romance just before the United States entered the Second World War.

Lois jumped on the chance to cover the action as a war correspondent, while the Army came calling for the aid of Superman. While the idea of being a 'super-soldier' didn't sit well with him, he couldn't allow the likes of Hitler to get away with the crimes against humanity he was committing, and for a time, Superman would fight alongside Captain America and other costumed 'mystery men' in the war against the Axis Powers. However, his contributions to cracking Fortress Europe were limited, as the Third Reich had gotten a hold of a deadly new weapon: Kryptonite, the one substance on Earth that could harm the Man of Steel, and something previously only in the possession of his old arch-enemy Lex Luthor. Indeed, the Fuhrer had conscripted Luthor's help in keeping Superman out of the war, and had put the madman in charge of creating all manner of technological horrors for the Germans....until the US Army captured Luthor and put him to work for themselves. Not long afterwards, Superman would hang his head in shame when US bombers unleashed two of Luthor's doomsday weapons on the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and the federal government would give the arch-villain a full pardon in honor of his hand in winning the war.

Throughout the 1950s and 1960s, Superman withdrew from the political and military arena, staying hands-off during the rise of the Soviet Union and the escalation of the Cold War. This was easier than one might expect, as no shortage of increasingly dangerous enemies came out of the woodwork to keep the Man of Tomorrow busy. The alien super-computer Brainiac threatened the Earth time and time again, as did the Kryptonian dictator General Zod, the multi-dimensional trickster Mxyzptlk, and Superman's warped duplicate Bizarro. As many of these battles saw Superman travel up into space and gain more and more direct exposure to Earth's yellow sun, his powers would grow exponentially. Whereas the Superman of 1942 had to strain to lift a Nazi tank over his head, the Superman of 1962 could easily move the mass of the moon itself-- something he did more than once, in fact. Unfortunately, even with his astonishing increase of power, he could not be everywhere at once, as the world learned the hard way in November of 1963, while Superman was battling with the spectres of the Phantom Zone, a lone gunman shot down the President of the United States.

The past five years have been difficult for Clark, still trying to put on a brave face and show the virtues of Truth, Justice, and the American Way while America seems ready to tear itself apart. Moreover, well into his fifties, he is starting to feel his age. He can still move mountains and shrug off the effects of an atom bomb, but not without aches and pains afterward. He is still faster than any speeding bullet, but his lap times around the world aren't what they were even just a few years ago. And while his wife Lois is still the radiant beauty she always was, he can't help but get self-conscious about the patches of gray in his own hair when he looks in the mirror.

Still, Clark has never been one to sulk, and there's always work to be done. With a world going crazy and the people needing something to look up to, it's starting to look an awful lot like a job for Superman.

I've played lots of variations on the Big Blue Boy Scout before, from his early days to his later years, and plenty of "year whatever" present-day version where he's in his prime. However, I've never really had the chance to play him in an era where he's most at home: the Silver Age. When I told our illustrious GM I wanted to go Silver Age, he said "within reason." To which I had to respond, "you and I know damn well that the phrases '1960s Superman' and 'within reason' are mutually exclusive."

That said, this is a Superman that's been on the job for thirty years, and unlike the pseudo-immortal version we're used to, he's aging like everyone else. Clark is still powerful beyond belief, but he's starting to sag in places, his hair's going gray, and his tights don't fit quite as well as they used to. As the threats he faces are getting crazier and crazier, he's finding it harder to keep up.

Granted, I have no intention of doing a "sad old man goes on one last mission and passes on the torch to his conveniently diverse replacement" story; if I'm putting on the cape, I'm in it to win it. But it does give an opportunity to play around with the age-old icon of the American Way in one of the most tumultuous times in the country's history, and explore how being a bastion of hope and optimism works out in a world turning cynical and sour. While also still slugging it out with Bizarro and riddling his way out of the Fifth Dimension and whatnot.

Key Notes

---

Timeline

1913: A mysterious rocket ship lands in a field outside of Smallville, Kansas. Jonathan and Martha Kent find a baby boy inside and adopt him, naming him Clark.

1931: Clark uses his powers in plain view for the first time, saving Smallville from a deadly tornado. Afterwards, Clark leaves Smallville, and spends most of the Depression years hitchhiking across America.

1938: Clark Kent arrives in Metropolis, and foils an armed robbery by Bruno Mannheim. The press (namely Lois Lane) dubs him "Superman"

1940: Superman has his first battle with Lex Luthor, and is nearly killed by a nefarious trap which exposes him to Kryptonite for the first time.

1942: Superman enlists in the U.S. Army, fighting in both the European and Pacific theaters, as well as participating in a pro-US propaganda campaign that would age very poorly and tarnish his reputation in later years. Later that same year, the Third Reich acquires the help of Lex Luthor to create anti-Superman weapons for the Wehrmacht.

1944: Superman has his first encounter with the truly bizarre, as he is tormented by a seemingly magical imp called Mr. Mxyztplk. More bent on mischief and annoyance than destruction or conquest, Mxyzptlk repeatedly interferes with Superman's efforts-- both against common criminals and on the war front-- by altering the fabric of reality, turning people into animals and warping time and space, until Superman wins his game of wits by tricking the imp into saying his own name backwards.

1945: The US Army captures Lex Luthor, and puts him to work on the Manhattan Project in exchange for a full pardon. A few months later, Luthor's fusion bombs would be dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. After the war, Luthor would ostensibly reform and found the engineering conglomerate Lex-Co.

1947: A flying saucer crashes outside of Roswell, New Mexico, and it is recovered by the US Air Force. They discover the remains of an alien artificial intelligence from a long-lost planet called Colu.

1948: After ten years of newsroom bickering, which turned to playful banter, then romantic flirtation, Clark Kent and Lois Lane marry.

1951: Superman battles an enormous super-powered ape called Titano, whose eyes emit beams with radiation similar to deadly Kryptonite. After the beast is subdued and taken safely away from the city, Clark Kent and Lois Lane investigate and find the poor ape's condition was the result of experiments conducted at Lex-Co labs. While Luthor is able to avoid any criminal charges, it is proof enough for Clark that his old nemesis isn't as reformed as he claims.

1955: The mischievous Mr. Mxyzptlk returns with another series of insane challenges and tricks for the Man of Steel. While Superman is able to restore reality to almost its original form, he is also left with a super-powered dog he names Krypto.

1956: Mxyzptlk returns again, unleashing a plague of extra-dimensional 'Bizarro matter' on the Earth. While Superman is able to keep the plague from destroying the world, the Bizarro matter still manages to create a warped, cube-shaped copy of Earth, complete with billions of Bizarro people, and worst of all, its own Bizarro Superman.

1958: The Pentagon finally activates the salvaged alien supercomputer recovered from the Roswell saucer, now reverse-engineered into a powerful computer network they call "Brainiac." However, the Coluan AI is far more advanced than they had bargained, and Brainiac almost immediately turns hostile, taking control of the US and USSR's nuclear arsenals, until Superman intervenes. Soon after, Brainiac creates a powerful physical body for itself and reconstructs its crashed spaceship, and repeatedly attempts to destroy Earth, being thwarted by Superman each time.

1962: Superman discovers he is not the last of his people, as Earth is contacted from another dimension by a trio of Kryptonians led by the enigmatic General Zod. They claim that they are trapped in a parallel universe called the Phantom Zone, and provide instructions with a device to free them. When they are set free, however, Zod and company reveal that they had been war criminals on their home world, and plan to conquer Earth. Superman tries to fight them alone, but is defeated. In desperation, he turns to Lex Luthor for help, and together the two arch enemies defeat Zod and his followers, sending them back to the Phantom Zone. However, at the last moment, Luthor betrays Superman and traps him in the Phantom Zone as well.

1963: After a year trapped in the ethereal void, Superman finally escapes the Phantom Zone. Sadly, he is unable to do so until several days after the assassination of President Kennedy.

1965: Another rocket ship from Krypton lands on Earth. This ship contains Clark's long-lost cousin Kara Zor-El, who begins fighting crime and saving lives alongside him as Supergirl.

Friends and Allies

Lois Lane Kent: Clark's former rival, best friend, and loving wife. Still a firecracker, still unafraid to question the powers that be and call out injustice where she sees it.

Jimmy Olsen: Clark's protégé at the Daily Planet, an excitable young photographer who is obsessed with keeping up with the latest trends. Often gets embroiled in Superman's adventures, and occasionally turns into a giant turtle or has to eat a billion hamburgers or the like.

Perry White: The Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Planet, a cantankerous old lion of the newsroom whose unshakable integrity makes up for his blustering.

Kara Kent/Kara Zor-El: Clark's cousin, sent to Earth from Krypton to look after young Kal-El but delayed several years by cosmic mishap. Upbeat and full of energy, she has taken to heroism like a duck to water.

Jon and Martha Kent: Clark's parents, now in their twilight years. Earnest, salt-of-the-Earth folk who always have a story and a moral to go with it.

Professor Emil Hamilton: One of the lead scientists at STAR Labs, and Superman's go-to for questions of advanced super-science.

Enemies

Lex Luthor: Superman's arch-rival for nearly three decades, a notorious super-criminal given legitimacy by the military-industrial complex. Calculating and manipulative, he has engineered a massive corporate empire with the secret goal of undermining and destroying Superman once and for all.

Brainiac: An advanced alien supercomputer from the lost planet of Colu, Brainiac sees Earth as merely a specimen in its cruel experiments. Armed with technology thousands of years ahead of mankind, Brainiac's sinister machinations have threatened the world time and time again.

Mr. Mxyzptlk: A cosmically-powerful imp from the Fifth Dimension, Mxyzptlk doesn't care for money or power or taking over the world-- he only cares about annoying Superman for his own amusement. Able to warp reality in whatever way he sees fit, the malevolent trickster continually puts the Man of Steel through increasingly absurd trials and traps, with humanity's survival being the only prize for winning his games.

General Zod: A conquering dictator from Superman's home world of Krypton, Zod was brought low by Kal-El's father, the brilliant scientist Jor-El. Now exposed to the yellow sun and given the same incredible powers as the Man of Steel, Zod and his followers will stop at nothing to get their revenge on the son of Jor-El, and rebuild their own fanatical vision of Krypton on the ashes of the Earth.

Bizarro: A misshapen double made of toxic 'Bizarro matter' from the dimensional Underverse, the Bizarro Superman is an infinitely powerful monster with a mind of pure chaos. Sometimes he is a playful pest, more of an annoyance than a threat, and sometimes he is a rampaging apocalyptic beast. Perhaps the most unsettling thing about Bizarro is that he is never the same type of bizarre twice.

Minor Villains:
Metallo: John Corben, a notorious criminal with a Kryptonite-powered battlesuit made by Lex-Co.
Parasite: Rudy Jones, a lowlife turned meta-vampire with a touch that can drain even Superman of his powers.
Livewire: Leslie Willis, a brash counter-culture activist with immense electrical powers and an intense hatred of superheroes.
Toyman: Winslow Schott, a mad inventor with a penchant for deadly toys and lethal playhouses, who frequently targets the children of Metropolis.
Prankster: Oswald Loomis, a washed-up kids' show host who has found new fame by working as a "professional distraction" for Metropolis's villains.

References / Sample Post

---

"Clark? Is everything all right in there, honey?"

I've been staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror for well over a minute. At the patches of gray at my temples. At the paunch that's developing where my rippling abdominals used to be. At the creases in my face. Frown lines.

I can watch atoms divide, hear clouds scrape together, smell the trees half a state away. And yet somehow this all seemed to sneak up on me.

"I'm....I'm fine, Lois," I say to her as she steps inside to do her necessaries. Her own hair is taking on a sheen of silver, but she's still the picture of beauty even after twenty years together.

"No, you're not," she says. "You're sulking. Which means either you think something's your fault, or you think you're helpless to do something else. So which is it, Smallville?"

I let out a weak chuckle at how well she knows me, then sigh.

"Yesterday afternoon," I start, "The fight with Toyman. When his giant bouncing ball tried to flatten city hall, I caught it, and....I felt my back pop. It wasn't all that heavy, a couple hundred-thousand tons at the most. I've lifted that weight and more every day since '38, never had any problems with it before. But this time...."

"It's okay, Clark," she says as she puts a hand on my shoulder. "Everyone has an off day. Even Superman, from time to time."

"It wasn't just that," I shake my head. "I'm slowing down, Lois, I'm....I'm not the man I used to be."

"Are you still there when people need you?"

"....well, yes, but--"

"Do you still want to do the right thing when nobody else will?"

"Lois, I--"

"Do you still want to fight for Truth and Justice?"

"Of course, I just--"

"Then you are still the man you 'used to be,'" she says with a beaming smile. "A little gray hair doesn't change who you are, some aches and pains don't make you any less the man I fell in love with all those years ago. Maybe, you know, just....pace yourself a bit. Let Kara and some of the new kids pick up your slack."

She gives me a reassuring kiss, then pats me on the backside. "And maybe start eating some more greens. You always told me Kryptonite was your greatest weakness, but I'm starting to think it's cheesecake."

That gets me out of my malaise, and I let out a hearty laugh. It's cut short, however, when we hear the telltale rumblings of an explosion not far from our apartment.

"Well, it sounds like you're off to work again," Lois says as she walks to the mirror to brush her teeth. "Don't hurt yourself trying to prove something; just--"

But as she turns, I'm already gone. Like she said, off to work again.

Don't strain, don't overdo it. Just...pace yourself, Clark. You've got nothing to prove to anyone.

Nothing to prove.

To anyone.

Oh, hell, who am I kidding?



I've always got something to prove.