Bounce

Rogue Continuum [CLOSED PENDING REBOOT]

Rogue Continuum [CLOSED PENDING REBOOT]

@Retired

Round 3 then.

Rogue Continuum [CLOSED PENDING REBOOT]

@Retired

In light of some of the commentary regarding concepts and being wild with them, I've changed my secondary proposal.

I still have a copy of the Wildfire one though, if something more mainstream is the preference there.

Rogue Continuum [CLOSED PENDING REBOOT]

@Retired

Edits made to both sheets to expand on how they arrived at the arenas.

Rogue Continuum [CLOSED PENDING REBOOT]

Option A | The Kid Who Was

| Name |

Tomás Raymond // Toro

| Age |

Adolescent

| Character Differences |

The main variable is in the ancestry, with the canon version being a stereotypical WASP archetype, with the Spanish nickname being an oddity. This version is a British national of Spanish ancestry on his mother's side, putting the diminutive more in line with the character's cultural identity. Aside from that, Toro's history is connected to World War I rather than World War II.

| Brief World Background |

Earth 47S | Edwardian Steampunk Reality
Toro's home reality features the height of colonialism, with the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland being the predominant world superpower. This period of Edwardian colonialism has ushered in a second Industrial Revolution with the refinement of steam power, being the predominant basis for the eccentric technology of the era. Sociopolitical trends closely mirror the prime reality, with Europe dividing the continents of South America, Africa, and the Pacific Island nations into dominions of their empires. In the midst of a web of complicated political connections between the Empires and their many, varied colonies, the assassination of Franz Ferdinand has triggered the first World War. Plying the major colonial powers against one another, the battle lines are drawn up between those loyal to the Central Powers (Germany, Austria-Hungary, Bulgaria, and the Ottoman Empire) and those loyal to the Allied Powers (France, British Empire, and Russia).

| Brief Character Background |

Tomás is a young Briton, the son of a physicist named Fred Raymond. Fred worked with chemist Phineas Horton on a classified energy program that gave birth to the first android, Jim Hammond (the Human Torch). Exposure to the so-called Horton Cells caused illness in both Fred and his wife, leading to concern that she would lose their baby. Fred ceased his work with Horton, seeking out treatment for himself and his wife in London. Sadly, Nohemi "Nora" Raymond and her midwife both suffered severe burns during the labor, as the newborn infant appeared to spontaneously combust upon contact with air. From these and other complications, with her already failing health, Nora passed away, leaving Fred a widower with a healthy, if somewhat flammable, baby boy.

The child's healthy constitution gave rise to his father calling him Toro (little bull), though the two had only a few short years before Fred would succumb to radiation poisoning from exposure to the Horton cells. Regarded as an oddity for his immunity to fire, and occasional spontaneous combustion, young Tomás wound up in the care of a pair of circus performers named Tom and Allie Alexander, who wanted Toro, the Fire-Eating Boy as part of their act. Thus, his childhood was a nomadic existence. Until 1915, when the German bombing campaign over King's Lynn caught the circus while they performed there. As the circus burned down around them, Toro and his adopted family huddled together for protection... when he felt himself starting to break into flame.

Fleeing from his adopted parents to keep them from being hurt by him, Toro vanished that night. As though taken by some spectre of La Llorona. Whatever the case, Toro woke to find himself in a prison with a collar around his neck, on a world unlike anything he had seen before.

Option B | The Kid Who Wasn't

| Name |

Arthur Curry, Jr (AJ)

| Age |

Adolescent

| Character Differences |

Primarily, he survived infancy (Arthur and Mera didn't use Black Manta as a babysitter). Second of all, he's not the son of Thanatos or native to Netherspace. This is the son of Arthur Curry and Mera. For simplicity sake, I've incorporated the movie's interpretation of Atlanna, Tom Curry, Arthur, Orm, and Mera into this version of the history.

| Brief World Background |

Earth 47S | Victorian Steampunk Reality
AJ's home reality is a steampunk alternate history centered around the Indian Rebellion of 1857 and the Second Opium War. With the world still cooling from the Crimean War of the prior year, the Justice Society works to try and stop threats to world peace before they can de-stabilize the tense political situation between the various colonial empires. Advances in steam technology, including the commercialization of the Giffard dirigible, has propelled mankind into the skies and under the seas. In the Kingdom of Atlantis, civil war over the throne had been resolved by Arthur Curry claiming the throne from Orm Marius. Arthur Curry, formerly the hero known as Aquaman, now struggles to balance his obligations to his friends of the Justice Society with his public duties to the people of Atlantis. With Vulko's guidance, Arthur has begun to rely more on Garth of Shayeris to support the Justice Society in his absence.

| Brief Character Background |

AJ is the son of King Arthur of Atlantis, also known as Arthur Curry of Amnesty Bay, Maine. This makes AJ a dual national of both Atlantis and the United States of America. As the Royal Family of Atlantis vacations to the Curry Lighthouse in Maine, AJ is familiar with the customs of the surface world through his father and grandfather, lighthouse keeper Tom Curry. As the firstborn and only child of Arthur and Mera, AJ is the heir apparent of the Atlantean throne. While it is often difficult to break away from the protective nature of both his parents, he has on occasion been able to accompany Garth of Shayeris on minor adventures -- particularly where Garth was in need of someone more familiar with surface customs. Thus, AJ has become the Aqualad to Garth's Aquaman.

AJ's disappearance was not connected with any of his activities as Aqualad. Rather, the boy was at the Curry Lighthouse visiting with his paternal grandparents when someone, or something, attacked. Unable to recall the specific details of what happened, AJ awoke to find himself in some kind of prison.

Option C | The Love Child

_{Believe in Steven}

| Name |

Steven Universe // Pink Diamond

| Age |

Actual: 14 years // Apparent Age: Variable

| Character Differences |

This is exactly what it says on the tin. The larger continuity is adapted to include DC Comics' Gemworld as part of the cosmos in which the Diamond Authority exists, but the character himself it played straight.

| Brief World Background |

Earth SU | The Gem War Reality
The Earth of this reality suffered drastic geological change as a result of an invasion circa 3700 BCE by a group of crystalline-based, inorganic alien lifeforms who devised to mine the planet of its mineral content. This Earth colony was the first and only world under the authority of Pink Diamond, the youngest and newest addition to the ruling caste known as the Great Diamond Authority. The creation of mineral extraction devices and gemstone birthing fields (known as kindergartens) caused tectonic shifts that led to Florida breaking apart into a series of islands, while the islands of Japan fused into a singular, small continent. Over time, Pink Diamond came to respect the presence of organic life on the planet and attempted to stop the gem colonization of Earth, knowing that it would lead to the death of all life on the planet. In the modern age, many of the sociopolitical structures are the same. The United States of America exists, though many of the states are known by different names, with some variation in their boundaries. Delmarva is a state. New York is known as Empire State. Pennsylvania is known as Keystone.

In the larger cosmos, the Great Diamond Authority controls a number of worlds, fighting a series of wars for possession and control of territory for use in mineral mining to create additional gem aliens. One world involved in the rebellion against the Great Diamond Authority was Gemworld, which was populated by a mixture of both Gem and Homo Magi ex-patriots from Earth's medieval period. Gemworld's politics were divided among Great Houses, named for different gemstones, with Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld being the current ruling monarch and leader of House Amethyst on Gemworld.

| Brief Character Background |

The offspring of a Gem and a human, Steven is the only known hybrid of a Gem with an organic lifeform. He possesses his mother's diamond gemstone, inheriting her position as the fourth member of the Order of the Diamonds. He was raised by his human father, Greg de Mayo -- who had legally changed his name to that of his stage persona, Mister Universe. He grew up near his mother's co-conspirators in the rebellion against the Diamond Authority, taking part in their adventures and exploring his own powers and capabilities as he grew older. He's defended Beach City, Delmarva, saved the planet Earth, and continued his mother's crusade for social change on both Earth and the Gem homeworld.

Having returned to Earth from the Gem homeworld, Steven had hoped for a respite in which to enjoy the hard fought victory to heal the corrupted gems and safeguard the cluster. Instead, he woke to find himself in some kind of prison. At first he'd thought it may have been a zoo, not unlike the one that his mother had created, but it soon became clear that this arena existed for some kind of intergalactic blood sport.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

_{[ Prev ] “FEAT OF CLAY, Part IV” [ Next ]}

B L Ü D H A V E N

---

^{Meadowdale Mall}

Bruce Wayne had never been Batman. Batman had just sometimes masqueraded as some millionaire playboy persona that went by the name of Bruce Wayne. But that’s all it was. All it had ever been, a persona. A nom de guerre. An act.

Everything the public thought they knew about Bruce Wayne had been carefully scripted and staged. Every appearance, every seemingly random encounter with a paparazzi, every social occasion orchestrated, manipulated, and controlled in order to strategically message whatever misinformation was desired to prop up the desired perception of Batman’s alter ego. It was something Dick had been confronted with early on, when he’d thought that he’d been adopted by Bruce Wayne and quickly found himself more alone within Wayne Manor than he had been without.

The masquerade had been one of the things that Dick had hoped to leave behind him when he had walked out of the Batcave for the last time. He had come to Bludhaven as Dick Grayson. Made a career for himself as Dick Grayson. Made a life for himself as Dick Grayson. One thing he had never done was to have let the identity of Nightwing define who he was or what he thought of himself. It had just been another job. A temporary side hussle to do what had to be done.

Now, Dick found himself pulling the pages from out of Bruce’s playbook. Carefully orchestrating how he would now go about introducing a child into his public life, and starting to lay the work for manipulating public perception of the persona that Toyboy would have to step into.

“Dick?”

He was in the children’s section of the local Old Navy. Bludhaven was a relatively small city, making the Meadowdale Mall a central location where you were apt to see someone you knew. Glancing up from where he had been admiring a boy’s graphic tee, Dick found Cissy Chambers looking surprised to see him there.

“Picking up stuff for another charity?”

If he had a guess, that was a reference to a few weeks earlier, when he’d run into one of the Bludhaven cops while out shopping for kid’s clothing. He’d popped inside of the local Target store in order to get the clothes that he’d had on hand when they’d pulled Toyboy from out of the cold storage at S.T.A.R. Labs. Inevitably, he’d been asked what he was there at the Target for and he’d replied that he’d been picking up some items for donation to one of the Wayne Foundation charities.

At the time, it had been a convenient sort of sleight of hand. He was on the board at the Wayne Foundation, so it was the kind of lie that didn’t bear repeating. It just made sense.

Now, he’d have to do a little bit more work with the messaging.

“Of a kind,” Dick answered cryptically, hanging the tee over his arm as he turned toward the lieutenant. After a brief pause, he added, “I’ve decided to foster a kid.”

The reaction was visceral. Cissy’s head went back. Blinking as though uncertain of what she’d just heard. If he’d been asked, he’d have bet that she’d have congratulated him. Instead, the woman bluntly asked, “Aren’t you a little old for that?”

Tact, thy name is Cissy Chambers. Dick tried to smile, rather than wince, and came off doing an odd mix of the two gestures. “I’m almost at mandatory retirement,” he admitted, with a nod of his head. “But I think I have a few years left in me even after that. Might as well go out devoting my energy to something worthwhile.”

He found the woman just staring him down. It got to be uncomfortable for a moment, before she merely said, “I forget, you were a foster kid.”

Not an inaccurate remark. Again, not a very tactful one either. Dick gave another nod, which seemed to satisfy her. “Do I get to meet him?” Cissy offered, at last seeming to warm to the idea of Dick having a foster kid around.

Well, that was the hard part. Laying the foundation. If the notion itself didn’t fly, then the masquerade was never going to work. But, she seemed to have bought it. Which meant now it was just a matter of maintaining that belief. “I’m still waiting for approval to bring him home,” Dick lied smoothly. “As soon as I do, you’ll be the first one over for dinner.”

With that, the man traded a few trivial pleasantries, extracting himself from the conversation as he headed toward the cash register to pay for the items that he’d picked up so that they could start an actual wardrobe for Toyboy.

The die was cast. Now the rumor mill could start.

+ - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - +

“It’ll be a day or so more.”

Dick had ventured down to Gotham after leaving the mall. It wasn’t on the way, but that hardly mattered. He was disappointed when Sarah Charles met him to explain that he wouldn’t be seeing the robot today.

“I thought you said that he was on-line again?” the man remarked, allowing his confusion to show through. That had been the reason for the visit, actually. Not that he was opposed to stopping by to peek in on Toyboy’s inanimate body in various states of disassembly, but he’d hoped to get some kind of gauge or assessment of Toyboy’s modified operating system and programming.

“We had a bit of a... freak out,” Sarah replied. Her choice of words immediately prompting a skeptical look on the part of Dick.

Toyboy’s composure was one of the things that tended to betray the reality that he wasn’t human. The idea of the robot having a freak out went against everything that Dick knew about the automaton.

“The initial boot didn’t go as smoothly as we expected,” Sarah explained, which did nothing to alleviate Dick’s concern that some assessment would be needed before he sent Toyboy out again. All of which was just reinforced when the woman said, “We’re still smoothing out a few glitches. And then the internet connectivity proved something of a... compatibility issue.”

Dick’s head tilted slightly as he inclined an ear toward the scientist. It seemed odd to put a slight emphasis on the end of that sentence. “Compatibility issue?”

“The internet,” Sarah supplied in answer, prompting another confused look from Dick, “It seems that it was a little overwhelming for him,” the woman added, supplying some context for Dick as she continued, “We’re uploading a software patch that will allow Toyboy to have autonomy over when he’s up on bluetooth or wi-fi. But, we need a little more time to get him comfortable with exploring those capabilities.”

“Well, they do say that the internet is a scary place,” Dick deadpanned glibly.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

_{[ Prev ] “FEAT OF CLAY, Part III” [ Next ]}

B L Ü D H A V E N

---

^Downtown

It was Chambers’ marked police cruiser, but Dick was behind the wheel. The lights and sirens cleared a path through traffic, as the former Boy Wonder turned the Chevy Impala into something more akin to a performance vehicle.

A fact that his passenger didn’t entirely appreciate. “I only get car sick when you drive,” Cissy complained, her knuckles white as she held onto the dash and the auspiciously named oh shit bar.

For his part, the lines on Dick’s gave lightened as he gave a devil may care grin. The police cruiser squealed to an abrupt halt, just inches shy of rear ending another police car as Dick threw the car into park and stepped out into the freshly marked crime scene.

Through the crowd gathered on the street, Dick could already make out the fact that the doorframe had been completely ripped away from the storefront. In fact, the entire door to the jewelry store was presently lodged in the Ford F-150 that had nearly been cleaved in two by it.

“Well, that happened,” Dick uttered glibly, exiting out of the car and standing there for a moment, in awe of a feat that he’d have normally associated with the likes of Bane.

Maybe they weren’t dealing with a metahuman. Just someone coked up on venom.

In honesty, Dick wasn’t really certain that was a better prospect.

Something bumped into him. Taken off-step, Dick glanced down in time to see a young girl with dark hair in a red cardigan sweater, yellow blouse, black mini-skirt and a black choker around her neck. He reached out a hand to grab hold of her shoulder, steadying her as the legs seemed ready to give out from under her.

She was a runner. He could see it in her eyes. In the gaunt expression. Her eyes constantly scanning for signs of something, or someone.

Once she’d gotten her feet back under her, two quick steps backward broke the contact between her and Dick. “Sorry,” she mumbled, looking everywhere except at Dick, as she turned and vanished through the crowd.

In sort order, Dick was just standing there, somewhere between confused and amused as he watched the girl practically vanish right in front of his eyes. “Well, that happened,” he repeated, with a hint of a smile.

“Commissioner!”

The man whirled around. His gaze fixed on Chambers for just a fleeting moment, finding the woman pointing off into the crowd, as she said, “Look!”

Steel blue eyes cut along the path of Cissy’s finger. Which is where he found him. Face of Boris Karloff. With a pair of seemingly blank, piercing eyes.

Pain lanced up through Dick’s bad knee, even as he started forward. “POLICE!” he shouted hoarsely, even as he bolted toward where the large figure dominated over the crowd.

Boris Karloff’s twin from another mother bolted just then as well. For such a large man, he moved with the speed of a NFL defensive lineman. And in the same fashion just bowled over the people on the street. It gave Dick and Cissy a lot to dodge around as they tried to scramble up the sidewalk in pursuit.

And that was before he chucked a dumpster their way.

No, not a trash can. A dumpster. A large dumpster.

Dick saw a flash of green and his Boy Wonder instincts were still sharp enough that he was able to turn and tackle Chamber off to the side, as the dumpster went crashing through where they’d both been just a moment before.

He found that he was winded as he lay on the ground. He started to push himself up, but his knee had locked up on him again, slowing him down. Cissy Chambers, more than twenty years his junior, was already on her feet and back in pursuit. By the time one of his patrolmen had come over to help Dick up to his feet, Dick had lost sight of both Cissy and the Karloff-lookalike.

Giving a low growl of disappointment in himself, Dick and the patrolman set off on foot. Reaching down to the radio clipped to his belt, the man spoke into the microphone affixed to the lapel of his coat. “Chambers, talk to me.”

“I’ve got visual. He’s turned down the Post Street alley. I think he’s headed for the Fourteenth Street tunnel.”

Dick’s shoes skidded to a halt. His head was on a swivel, until he’d identified the alleyway that would serve as a cut-through. “We’ll be waiting on the other side,” the man remarked, breaking into a sprint as he barreled through the streets of Bludhaven.

There was a fence dividing the alley.

Even just twenty years ago, Dick could have vaulted that without so much as a second thought. Now it was a considerable effort, slowing him down as he pulled himself up and then struggled to swing his leg over and drop down.

He felt like he’d just run a marathon. And no amount of Aleve was going to numb the pain that was radiating through his knee. But, be that as it may, Dick and the patrolman arrived at the end of the 14th Street tunnel.

He’d have liked a longer rest in which to catch his breath, but the sound of footsteps forced the haggard police commissioner to steel himself for the approach of their burglary suspect.

Instead, it was Cissy Chambers who came sprinting into view. And was obviously as shocked to see Dick as he was to see her. “What? You didn’t stop him?”

“Stop him? He never came through here,” Dick countered breathlessly.

Pulling her flashlight from off her utility belt, Cissy turned and shone the light back down the tunnel. It was all solid concrete construction. To include the pavestones with narrow strips for drainage. “But, that’s impossible...” the woman uttered aloud.

ＦＩＮＡＬ ＦＡＮＴＡＳＹ Ｘ｜Ｖ： Ｔｈｅ Ｂｌｅｓｓｅｄ Ｔｗｅｌｖｅ

Previously discussed with @Hero via PMs due to being a non-playable race concept.

E-Siri-Rai

_ＮＡＭＥ

E-Siri-Rai

_ＲＡＣＥ

Padjal

_ＣＬＡＮ

Midlander (Hyur bloodline)

_{ＢＩＲＴＨＰＬＡＣＥ}

Hyrstmill, North Shroud

_{ＯＣＣＵＰＡＴＩＯＮ}

Member of the Conjurer's Guild

_{ＳＯＵＬ ＣＲＹＳＴＡＬ}

White Mage

_{ＡＰＰＥＡＲＡＮＣＥ}

But for the horns, Brother E-Siri is an otherwise unremarkable Midlander youth. He has a tan complexion and darker hair than is typical of the children who serve as the oracles of the elemental forces. His eyes are a bright shade of blue that resemble a cloudless sky. Two gazelle-like horns protrude backward from either side of his head, being the distinctive characteristic of the Padjal. He appears as a mere boy of no more than 10 or 12 summers, wearing a short-sleeved tunic and shorts that mark him as casual as any child. He was often seen with a cane of unfinished wood, which served as the foci for weaving elemental magic into conjury.

Hider

_{ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ}

Curious, compassionate, and obstinate are three words that aptly describe this forest oracle. The lesson of his parents has remained the most significant force in shaping the quality of mercy and the character of Brother E-Siri. He is Stillglade Fane's most outspoken critic, believing the Conjurer's Guild to be stifled inside their den and the Seedseers more concerned with the voices of the elements than for the lamentations of the people that they claim to serve. At the core of E-Siri's belief, the task of protecting the Twelveswood requires a comprehension of the world in which the Twelveswood exists, including the people, elements, and threats facing it from beyond the borders of the forest.

_{ＢＩＯＧＲＡＰＨＹ}

Not of the prestigious Senna or Yan families, Kosne Rai was born into both obscurity and poverty in the North Shroud hamlet of Hyrstmill. The son of simple subsistence farmers, the pregnancy complicated the already bleak financial outlook for the fledgling family. Without coin to pay a midwife, as a newborn babe, Kosne was brought into Eorzea without assistance, leading to his mother's death in childbirth. His widower father found work where he could in the mun-tuy cellars to pay a wet nurse for the suckling child, barely able to provide for himself and his child as the two struggled to survive under the shadow of E-Tatt's Spire.

It was around the time of his eighth summer, laboring in the mun-tuy cellars, picking beans alongside his father that a pair of odd bumps were first noticed on his head. The horns started coming in over the following year, at which point the child's obscurity was cast aside and the Order of the Twin Adder came for him. Under the oldest of Gridanian law, he was taken in the custody of Stillglade Fane, a prisoner in all but name as he learned that he was a Padjal, now and forevermore changed. Over the next several years, he stopped aging but his mind was expanded through literacy, through communion, through an education in the art of conjury.

It was a decade before he would emerge from out of Stillglade Fane, when the threat of the Calamity caused Stillglade Fane's doors to be open to him for the first time since he had been forcibly delivered there. No longer the humble pauper, he was now E-Siri-Rai. He was now Brother E-Siri. A new identiy, for a new life that had been chosen for him by powers beyond mortal imagining. As the fires Bahamut rained down over the Black Shroud, E-Siri raced back to the Hyrstmill of his youth in search of the man who had struggled through blood, sweat, and tears to raise him.

He arrived too late. His father, as penniless then as ever, had contracted an illness down in the damp, cold cellars from which he had never recovered. His disease treatable, his pain without succor, the father of the boy who had been Kosne Rai died mere yalms from Gridania without anyone from Stillglade Fane, from the Twin Adder, or the Wood Wailers even taking notice. The man who Brother E-Siri had raced to rescue was not waiting for him there. Instead, he had passed into obscurity.

In the five years since, Brother E-Siri has labored outside to bring mercy and healing to the elements and the impoverished throughout the Black Shroud. Though his trips away from Old Gridania are many, he is frequently recalled back to Stillglade Fane. There, each time, he labors to be the voice for both the plight of the elements and the people to a Seedseer Council that he fears has little concern for anything other than the trees nearest them.

_{ＯＴＨＥＲ}

• His favorite dish is tomato pie.
• His Padjali name translates to a seeker, illustrating his innate curiosity.
• Related to his study of conjury, he is also a member of the Botanist's Guild in order to learn about the aetherial benefits of different types of wood (foci) and medicinal applications of various plants.

_{ＲＥＡＳＯＮ ＦＯＲ ＥＮＬＩＳＴＭＥＮＴ}

Prologue 01 | An Ill-Wind From Thanalan

"The Twelveswood does not dwell in isolation."

The underground vault brought to mind the many storied legends of Gelmorra. Roots descended along the walls, framing the subterranean round where two children debated back and forth.

The smaller of the pair was a boy possessed of blue eyes and short, raven dark hair that held a slight curl to it. He wore a short tunic, vibrantly colored in hues of violet and silver, with a caduceus symbol emblazoned on the front. "There are forces outside the Shroud that shape the dangers that we face," the boy offered, continuing to state his case even as he gestured toward the other youth before him. "Brother A-Towa..."

With a broad wave of one arm, the taller of the two cut him off there. "Brother A-Towa died alone in a kobold mine," the tow-headed boy countered sternly, adding, "I'll not see you track down that same path."

With a shake of his head, the dark-haired boy remarked, "There's naught more that we can do in the South Shroud. Whatever disturbs the elementals comes from somewhere in Thanalan, not our Twelveswood."

"Then we are at an impasse," the fair-haired youth answered flatly. "The Order of the Twin Adder cannot venture there without invitation from the Immortal Flames, and our Wood Wailers have no jurisdiction outside the forest."

In unison, the pair gave a sigh in frustration toward the other. This seemed to be the point at which all their conversations brought them. When he had looked up again, the raven-haired child said, "Then I shall seek another means."

The taller boy frowned. "If there was a third option, I would have tendered it," he stated in the same matter-of-fact tone as before. Then, softening his manner, stretched forward a hand as he added, "Do not challenge the Seedseer Council in this. Not again."

The smaller boy inclined his head in deference toward the other, yet his eyes shone with a hot-blooded hellfire that belied an obstinate resolve. "I will do what I must, Brother."

The fair haired youth turned away, a shake of his head demonstrating the level of ire that he held for intractable debate between them. After a moment, he turned back to the other boy and said, "Very well. As you will not be dissuaded in this," the youth intoned quietly. Folding his arms out before him, he bowed in the manner of Stillglade Fane and offered, "Nophica watch over you, Brother."

Prologue 02 | The Carline Canopy

There was a certain warmth that radiated about the Roost. A quiet din of conversation over a bowl of pottage or cup of mun-tuy brew. No where else in Gridania was host to such a vibrant and eclectic group as could be found in the Carline Canopy. Soldiers of the Twin Adder, preparing to depart or returning from points far afield. The grizzled Wood Wailers. Adventurers bold, fresh-faced and veteran explorers, bounty hunters, and mercenaries. Merchants, men of coin and tradesmen plying their art for a living.

Every time that he walked in here, he felt as though he saw something that he had never seen before. He could sit near the door for hours, listening to the stories that were shared, and trying to imagine the places beyond the forest that were spoken of.

He found the matronly Elezen away from her usual bar, posting new aduyses along the wall. As he approached, he held up a satchel. "As I passed through Silent Arbor, I picked up the mun-tuy beans from the cellars as you'd asked," the boy said, holding the sack of beans out for the woman to take.

For her part, the Elezen looked at the horned child. Then down to the beans he held up toward her. Then, blinking, looked back at him and bluntly answered, "I didn't think that you'd actually do it." Cupping his hand with both of hers, the woman was gracious as she accepted the sack.

Turning away from her aduyses, she ventured across to her bar. As she walked, she half-heartedly laughed as she said, "The Wood Wailers might do me in if they knew that I'd used a Padjal as a delivery boy."

A ghost of a smile played across the youthful features of the oracle. His small size made apparent by the height of the bar relative to his stature. The touch of whimsy disappeared, however, as a look of obvious confusion took hold when she had pushed a few gil across the counter toward him. "What's this?"

Now it was her turn to look confused for a moment. "A meager reward," the lady answered, before her smile returned and she offered, "People don't generally do things for nothing."

The child gave a slight nod of his head, then bowed to demonstrate his gratitude before reaching toward the gil. "So, where are you off to next?" he heard the woman ask.

A good question. "I don't know," the boy answered honestly. Taking a step away, the child's eyes peered up along the wall, where a map of Eorzea was framed by all manner of time tables, weather predictions, notices, and wanted posters. "The direction that the elementals would point me toward is a direction that it seems I cannot travel," the boy opined aloud.

"Oh?" he heard the Elezen matron voice from behind him.

As the boy craned his head back and admired the map, framed by aduyses, his gaze fell upon one that stood out from the time tables and weather notices. It was a summons, a call to action ob behalf of one of the free companies.

The free companies. Brother E-Sumi's advice was correct. The Twin Adder and the Wood Wailers had limits to where they could go. But the free companies had no such restrictions placed on them, even to the degree to which some worked more closely with the various Grand Companies than others.

As he gazed upon the advertisement, he heard the woman remark, "Well, wherever you venture, full glad am I that you have the Wood Wailers or Adders with you. It's not safe to go alone."

Reaching up, the child pulled the notice from off the wall. It referred to its gathering as The Blessed Twelve, a rather auspicious name. "I suspect you're right," the boy noted aloud, even as he continued to regard the notice.

The call spoke of a meeting in Ul'dah, another auspicious coincidence.

The sound of a cup and saucer scraping over the top of the counter drew his attention from the paper. When he had looked up, he found the matron pushing a warm mug toward him. "The airship for Ul'dah won't be departing for another few hours," the Elezen noted simply, before adding, "And you'll not find a mun-tuy brew when you get there."

The Bounce House

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

C A P T A I N M A R V E L

---

^{_{W I L L I A M J O S E P H B A T S O N ♦ W I Z A R D ♦ R O C K O F E T E R N I T Y ♦ S H I E L D / A V E N G E R S}}

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

---

^{"S H A Z A M !"}

Billy Batson is the chosen successor to Jedidiah of Canaan, otherwise known as Shazam, the guardian of the Rock of Eternity. Originally, just a sorcerer’s apprentice, Billy would only receive his powers when he uttered the wizard’s name. Billy emerged into the chaos of the Second World War and quickly became notable as one of the young heroes of the war. Under the leadership of Thomas Raymond (Toro), he formed a team known as the Young Allies with Lizzie Lawrence (Liberty Belle) and were notable for supporting Operation Dragoon in Southern France. Remarked upon by the media of the day for his Herculean feats, Billy became known as “Captain Marvel.” At the war’s end, the death of Shazam passed control of the Rock of Eternity to Billy as he departed the physical world in order to begin his training in earnest.

Recently returned to physical form, Billy has assumed the guise of an ordinary boy attending school in Fawcett City while he adjusts back to both physical form and how human society has changed in the past 76 years. At the same time, people and organizations from his past have taken note of a young superboy who has appeared, closely resembling a forgotten hero of WW2.

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:

---

Billy Batson has always been a character distinguished by trauma, much like Batman or other Golden Age heroes. His being an orphan, his struggles with the foster care system, and his vulnerability as a child have always been contrasted by both the power of Captain Marvel and his optimistic personality. I want to explore a fresh take on Billy as the wizard, where he’s still the same vulnerable child at heart but burdened by the weight of decades and struggling to remain true to who he is in the face of his responsibilities as Shazam.

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

---

As the current Shazam, Billy Batson is the physical embodiment of the Rock of Eternity and, thus, is always empowered by it. He can alter his outward appearance, either by use of illusion or temporally displacing his physical body.

In this context, Billy is both Shazam and Captain Marvel. Shazam being the title of the guardian of the Rock of Eternity and Captain Marvel being the name that the newspapers gave him during the Second World War.

Supporting Cast
- Aelfyre Whitemane. The Shazam counterpart for the planet Kymellia. A longtime friend of the Wizard Shazam and one of Billy’s mentors. Aelfyre is the guardian of the White Room.

- Roma. The daughter of Merlin and the Shazam counterpart for the dimension known as Otherworld. Serves as the guardian of the Starlight Citadel and is another of Billy’s mentors.

- Kofi Whitemane (“Freddy Freeman”). Aelfyre’s nephew and his chosen successor, learning firsthand from Billy. He has an equine appearance, to include reverse knee joints on the legs. To blend in on Earth, he assumes a human guise as Freddy Freeman but feigns a physical disability to mask his different leg anatomy.

- Courtney Whitmore (Stargirl). A new heroine starting out as young as Billy had. She wields a cosmic staff.

- Smartship Friday. Kofi’s Kymellian spaceship, which doubles as his home on Earth (shared with Billy). When not in use, concealed within an abandoned subway station in Fawcett City.

Rogue’s Gallery
- Dr. Thaddeus Silvana. The aging patriarch of Silvana Heavy Industries, with a hidden obsession into Nazi occult research into eternal life.

- Blaze. Daughter of Mephisto and one of the Under-Lords of Hell.

- Micah Flint (Rock). An astronaut irradiated and transformed into a rock-like monster in a cosmic accident.

- Belasco. One of Earth’s most powerful sorcerers, banished to Limbo over a century ago by Shazam.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Sample Post

| Armed Forces Retirement Home
_{| Gulfport, Mississippi}

Patrick O’Toole had been a character in his youth.

A Brooklyn native who had lied about his age in order to join the Army during the Second World War, those who had served with him wouldn’t know a Patrick O’Toole. They knew Knuckles. Knuckles O’Toole, the Brooklyn brawler.

Officially, Patrick O’Toole had fought in the war in Europe, become a decorated sergeant, served as a drill instructor for a time before retiring from the Army. He didn’t really talk about it with his wife or kids, or grandkids, because that was how it had been. Loose lips sink ships. No one talked about the war, even though they’d all been living it.

What wasn’t in the public records was the fact that Knuckles O’Toole had been one of those enamored and foolish wartime youths who had been inspired by Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos to form a group they’d called the Young Allies. Fools, the lot of them.

And no better friends.

Today, Patrick O’Toole was ninety-eight. The oldest living veteran inside the retirement home. Soon to be ninety-nine. His wife had passed five years earlier, his children had all moved away, and so he spent the twilight of his life as alone as when he’d snuck away to join the Army at fifteen.

He’d met one other kid who was even younger than him.

“We were...” the old man began, trailing off as he raised a spindly, frail arm. His skin was translucent with age and marked by spots. It was a far cry from the heavy handed mitts that once fought their way through ranks of Nazi soldiers. “Where were we?” the man asked, seemingly talking to himself, as he tried to recall the details of the memory that had come to mind. “Marseilles. We were in Marseilles and Tubby... you remember Tubby?”

Turning his head, the aging spectre of Knuckles O’Toole looked over and down at Billy Batson. A young kid with a bedhead mop of black hair and eyes that were as blue as the sky. Midwesterner, the sort who was Minnesota nice by nature, from Fawcett City, Ohio. In more than eighty years, that face hadn’t changed. “Yeah,” the boy said, wistfully, as though sharing in the memory of yesterday. “Yeah, I remember Tubby.”

“Tubby wanted to crawl up a... a...”

The old man stammered, his mouth falling open as the memory seemed to fade on his tongue.

“It was a church bell tower,” Billy supplied softly.

“It was a god damn church bell tower,” Patrick echoed, as though now invigorated. Arms outstretched, the man seemed almost a shadow of his former self as he said, “And there he is, with his fat ass, trying to shimmy up this wood scaffolding...” the man uttered, lapsing into a familiar laugh.

Then the laughter became a cough, which seemed to wrack the man’s entire body.

Reaching out with one arm, the boy placed a hand on the man’s back. The truth was, what Billy saw was more than just the shared memory. Pulmonary hypertension. He could see it. See the threads of time starting to fray and shorten as they extended out from Patrick O’Toole.

The man wouldn’t live to see his ninety-ninth birthday.

Could Billy change that? Reverse the ravages of time and ease the burden of age on Knuckles’ body? Yes. All that, and more. Restored youth. Renewed vigor. With but a whim and the word, Billy could change it all back to the way it was -- to the way that he remembered him -- with but a snap of his fingers.

He didn’t.

He wouldn’t. Which was not to say that it was not, still, more than a passing thought. After all, if one had the power to do something, to change something, wasn’t it at least worth a thought?

You are not entrusted with the Rock of Eternity that you may install yourself as a god, Billy Batson. You are the guardian of man’s mortal life. Never forget that. One before you once thought himself a god, and was brought low by it.

The lessons of the past. Which were no less the lessons of the present.

As the coughing fit subsided, the man emerged back into the cloud of confusion that had first greeted the boy. “Billy?” Knuckles uttered, as though looking at the youth for the first time. Then, seemed to have at least the wherewithal to realize that wasn’t true. “Who was we talking about again?”

A pained smile tugged at the sides of the boy’s face. “Tubby,” the boy supplied patiently. “You were talking about Tubby.”

“Huh. Tubby,” the old man echoed, sinking back into the seat. “Ol’ Tubby...” he murmured, his eyelids starting to flutter. “He died in... seventy-nine?”

Had it been a question? Or a memory? In either case, Patrick’s head rolled back as the old man fell into a quiet sleep.

A heavy, wearied sigh slipped from out of the young boy. He remembered vividly the Brooklyn native who had taught younger Billy Batson how to fight. Like, really fight. The kind of fighting where your life is on the line. Because their lives had been on the line and it had been Knuckles’ strong hands that had carried their asses out of the fire on more than one occasion.

A hand brushed across his shoulder. Turning his head, Billy looked up to see one of the nurses motioning him out of the room. “He talks like you were there,” the woman -- Annie was her name -- remarked as the two stepped out into the hallway.

“He says I remind him of someone he knew then,” Billy answered cryptically. This particular ward of the retirement home was the assisted living section. It more closely resembled a hospice, with a nursing station monitoring the rooms.

Waiting for the inevitable.

“Anything you want me to help with before I leave, Ma’am?”

“I just appreciate your spending time with them,” Annie answered, as the woman made her way back behind the nursing station. “I know they appreciate it as...”

She’d glanced up then, trailing off as she realized that the boy was no longer there. Turning her head to the left and right, she was presented with an empty hallway.

“I swear that kid’s a ghost.”

| Normandy American Cemetery & Memorial
_{| Colleville-sur-Mer, France}

“I saw Knuckles today.”

A tear slipped down the right side of the boy’s face. Craning his head back, the youth drew in a breath as, for a moment, the myriad of emotion seemed ready to overtake him.

He didn’t know what to say.

Should he say anything?

He was here. It seemed he needed to say something. “Seven kids, thirteen grandchildren, and now he’s got five great-grandchildren. I think he’s done well,” the boy said. Then, paused with a pained laugh as he added, “I think he’s done the best of all of us. Who’d have imagined, right?”

Another tear slipped down his face. He continued to stare up, but couldn’t help the fact that he was crying openly now. It was a pregnant pause before Billy found the courage to look down again.

At his feet was a simple headstone. It was identical to rows and rows of white marble headstones. He knew the names of many. Some better than others, but these had all been a band of brothers. The Americans who had died fighting in Europe against the Third Reich and Axis Powers.

Brothers and Sisters.

Elizabeth Lawrence
Women’s Airforce Service Pilots
Our Liberty Belle

“They’re everywhere!”

“Snipers in the bell tower! Toro, can you..?”

“I’m pinned down. We’re in a crossfire!”

“Billy, you have transform.”

“We’re too close!”

“They’re mowing right over us. IT’S A TRAP!”

“Billy, just say it!”

“I can’t.”

“You’re the only one who can! Billy, say it now!”

“God... fuck...”

“BILLY!”

_{“Shazam.”}

He remembered. All of it. Like it was yesterday. He could still hear the echoes of the German machine guns. Shells exploding in massive clouds of earth, as the tanks had rolled into view, blocking their only escape. It was supposed to have been a simple assignment, a rendezvous with British intelligence.

The whole thing had been a set up.

But the sound he remembered the most was the thunder, when the flash from the lightning had cleared. And he would never forget what he saw when the smoke had cleared.

Billy had been the one who had pulled them out of the fire that day, but he’d only managed to save less than half of them. Toro. Knuckles. Tubby. Wash Jones.

Lizzie had been pressed up against him. They’d been pinned down, taking cover together with German fire coming from both sides.

All his power and Billy couldn’t save her.

“Billy...”

In mid-air, a holographic window seemed to appear, containing the image of a horse-like alien.

When Billy had looked up, he wasn’t sure just which of the two of them were more startled.

“...are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Billy tried to utter, though he’d choked on the word even as he brought his arm up to wipe at the tears running down his face.

He wouldn’t have believed him either.

Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Still wiping at his face, the boy straightened up to ask, “What’s up?”

“Friday just picked up some trace energy readings. We believe that there is a Z’ynx ship hiding on the dark side of your moon.”

Billy was still having trouble with Earth geography. And the hundred-however-many nations. Keeping up with the different alien nations in the galaxy was, frankly, more than his brain seemed ready to handle. “Is this bad?” the boy asked finally. Might as well get to the point of it. It was either a good thing... or it wasn’t.

With aliens, he honestly was never sure what constituted good or bad.

“Potentially. The Z’ynx are space-capable, but quite primitive even by human standards. I do not imagine that they are here to open peace negotiations.”

Great. If it wasn’t Hell on Earth, it was the threat of alien invasion. What ever happened to the days when stopping a single nation dictator was all that being a hero required?

The air around the boy seemed to shimmer. His clothing and form crackled with an electric energy, as a red costume emblazoned with a golden lightning bolt appeared. As a white cape draped over one shoulder, the boy said, “Well, we should probably ask them.”

“You sure that you are okay?”

“Just... catching up with old friends,” Billy offered cryptically, before glancing back up toward the sky. “Dark side of the moon? See you in a bit.”

The holographic window blinked out of existence, giving Billy another moment of privacy in which to glance around the cemetery and memorial one more time.

Then he turned his head back toward the sky.

_{”Up, up and away.”}

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.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

@NinaDivine

Sorry, I had completely missed that you’d linked that one. When I moused over, I thought it was the Beyond version (or Gods and Monsters). I didn’t mean to offend in any case.