Hillan

Young Justice Renegades: A Team Worth Dying For

@Hillan Oh! If it's going just OCs then I'll try to come up with something else. I haven't done an OC in a superhero game in a while.

@rocketrobie2

Looking forward to it! I might give Julian another go. We'll see.

Young Justice Renegades: A Team Worth Dying For

I gotta say, Lobo being the final straw for the founding of the Justice League is great.

I'm interested. Would playing a reformed version of Slipstream be alright?

@rocketrobie2

I'm aiming for strictly OC's. But you can use the moniker if ya' want.

Young Justice Renegades: A Team Worth Dying For

Fifteen years ago, an alien known as Lobo came to our planet. He attacked Washington D.C and a took the president hostage. It became an international incident and the revelation of alien life on the planet. Despite man's best efforts, the military was hopeless at stopping Lobo, and what would eventually save President Calvin Ellis, was the unlikely trio of the last son of Krypton, the dark defender of Gotham and the exiled warrior-princess of Themyscira. Together they defeated Lobo and sent him back into space where he came from, motorcycle and all. Shortly after, they founded the Justice League and used the previously defunct Hall of Justice, that had been used by the Justice Society of America back during the War. With the hall their base of operations, the three would recruit other dignified heroes and soon their ranks grew.

The world relished in not just having heroes, but a league of their own? It was incredible. The golden age of heroes began anew, and together the Justice League has fought countless enemies. In the decade and a half that followed, their numbers have increased many times over and their influence has grown past their own ranks. Their protegés formed their own team, the Teen Titans. Teenagers who took after the heroes and carved their own path in the world. Some of them are even third generation legacies by now.

But this story isn't about the Justice League, or the Titans.

This story is about those that grew into the hero business without official means. Those that didn't get raised into being a hero by a eccentric billionaire, weren't sent here with great destiny or came from royalte. This story is about the heroes who won't give an inch. Won't care about the optics and won't let the boot of conformity step on their necks.

They're heroes in their own rights, but above all they're Renegades...

Gist is taking a break from the normal formulaic Superhero stuff I engage in here on the guild and write something casual, simple and fun. The basic rules are pretty simple. Justice League was formed in 2006, Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman were the founders and everything else is up in the air. If you have a reason to use them to further your character's concept, go for it. If not, don't.

Our characters are teenage heroes who don't fit into being Titans, who weren't raised as protegés of Leaguers. It might be because their dad's Deathstroke or because they just recently discovered their powers. Maybe they're the newest green lantern and the GL's in the league likes them even less than they like Guy. I don't mind too much, go nuts. All I ask is that you've done some thinking about how the character would fit into a group of 'problem teens' who's one goal is to save people and protect life at all costs, so no discount suicide squad.

As for posts, I'm aiming for pure casual. 1 - 2 paragraphs is expected and keep from writing more than five paragraphs a post. I'm thinking quick and easy 5 minute posts to both write and read and a pretty hefty pace, so if you decide this is something you'd be into, just assume I'll be expecting you to post twice a week.

Character sheet. I don't care if you use mine, but just include all the information I ask for.

CS

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

A L I A S

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^{_{B I R T H N A M E ♦ G E N D E R ♦ A G E ♦ B I R T H P L A C E}}

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

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^{"Witty Quote"}

This is where you outline your vision for the character This should be a short summary that provides insight into where the character is in terms of their overall progress and development.

A B I L I T I E S:

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What does your character do? Both powers and skills go here.

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

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Why do you want to play this character, what is the driving motivation behind both this desire and the character themselves. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go? What kind of role do you think your character can fit on the team? Why is your character a hero and not a civilian?

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

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Any additional notes you want to put either for yourself, the GM or other players to help clarify your vision or additions to the DC-Mythos. Equipment or signature gear, like your cool boomerangs or sick car goes here. Info about any relationships to canon heroes should go here.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S:

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Short summary of your characters thoughts, feelings and regards for the rest of the cast. Optional and can be added to whenever.

L.O.S.E.R. - A One Piece Marine RP

I really like this idea, I've tried to do something similar in the past. Glad someone else is giving it a go. I'm interested.

Variety Hour: An Absolute Comics Roleplay

His voice was tired, his throat dry and sore. He had not been given a drink for several days, forced to lick rainwater from the ground to survive for the two weeks he had been in prison. His hair was a mess, the ginger bangs falling over his face. He was tired. His lips were cracked, his skin was bruised and he had small cuts and wounds all over his body, his bare torso had the barely healing marks from blades and whips. He had been tortured, a lot. He was tied to the iron pipes of the chair, the wooden seat pained his backside and if he could speak, he would've. He would've told them he could taste the chair with his ass. And he wanted to speak to the manager. But given how the six men in the room were all strapped with Kevlar vests, C4 strapped to the vest, balaclavas on their head and decked out in tactical gear while armed with AK-47's, it didn't seem like the kind of 5-star resort Harper had expected. They were serving the local Warlord,
Al-Muhalim of Qurac. Al-Muhalim wasn't a fan of Harper...

My name is Roy Harper... The, uh, first. Yeah. That makes sense. See, it's not that I have a son who's also got my name, no, that'd be far too believable. Let's just say that while I was born 1989, I am not breaching my thirties. Not really. I missed seven years of my life while someone else took my place. It's a hard thing to get a grip on. But during my abs cense it seems the Quraqi warlords have gotten a lot tougher on Americans... Which leads me to why I am in this situation to begin with...

That was what Harper wanted to say, but, well, his throat wouldn't let him get out anything but dry gasps. The man standing in front of him was Al-Muhalim's right-hand man, and the only one not wearing a face mask. His face had been hit with a chemical attack, the left side covered in chemical scar-tissue. He was really, really, ugly. He said something in Arabic that Roy couldn't understand. Then he said it again, this time far more angrily. Roy still couldn't understand him. His head pounded and it was hard to focus.

The man hit Roy with the back of his hand, making the chair tip over. One of the goons lifted the chair back up, the leader dusted his hand off, blood seeping from Roy's newly re-burst lip. He groaned in pain, while the interrogator rolled up his sleeves.
"I know who you are, Mister Harper. Red Arrow they call you, huh. I thought you were taller. And had two arms." The man spoke and Roy groaned. It wasn't his fault that they had cut off his arm 9 years ago, and that his prosthetic arm had been destroyed when his former teammates betrayed him.
His throat groaned as he tried to speak again, begging for water. The boss nodded to one of his guys to bring out a jug of clear, clean spring water. Holding it above Roy's face, the man smirked. "Talk and I will let you drink your fill, boy."

"Be.... Be..." Roy got out, but couldn't form words beyond that. The man rolled his eyes. "Fine, a sip, then." And poured half a cup of water into Roy's mouth who greedily drank it, letting out a satisfied groan as he did, to him, that was the greatest taste he had ever felt. Well, he probably would've rather it had been a sip of whiskey.

After he collected himself, his tormenter grabbed his chin. "Now, tell me. What are you doing in my Qurac?"

"Beh... Behind you." Roy told him, smirking as the leader raised an eyebrow, only for Roy to be met with a spray of warm blood from the Quraci's face bursting open, a bullet from a sniper rifle up above him on the roof of the building, looking in through the makeshift skylight. The body fell limp beside Roy as the thugs all aimed their guns and fired at where the sniper was perched.
Tried to warn you.

See. I am a man who's thrown just about everything away. And what I didn't willingly give up, the world took from me. I don't get along with people, I'm uh, not exactly a people person. But that man up there? The one who's currently kicking the asses of these goons? I can recognize his patterns anywhere. His vantage points and his choice of weaponry. That was a .50 cal hollow point with a diamond tip. Only the Russian Bratva has access to those bullets in this hemisphere. And Oliver Queen doesn't use sniper rifles. That leaves only one guy who would have the means to get these. The unprodigal son of Gotham.

Explosives detonated around the room, filling the room with smoke as their guns ran out of ammo, while they were reloading, a shape landed, armed with a curved short sword, a kukri and a .45 he domed and sliced every last one of the goons he could get his hands on, the only thing Roy could see was the blasting of gunfire lighting up the room in the smoke and the brief reflection of the ruby quartz material making up is would be saviors helm.

See. He was murdered and came back from the dead. He made death his bride and then kicked her out of the bed and onto the curb. He's got the stuff of heroes - true heroes in him if he wanted to. He's the Red Hood, the most dangerous man in the world. And he hates to admit it even more than I do, but he's my best friend and maybe the only person in the world who gets me. He knows what it’s like to disappear and to have someone else carry on your name in your place, the world not knowing who you are.

Roy’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a rocket launcher getting readied behind him, trained on the Red Hood in front of him. Roy yelped out a ‘oh shit’ and ‘watch out’ at once, combined with his still sore and dry throat, all he let out was a “Which shiii” as he nudged his chair onto the floor, dodging the rocket being sent. Red Hood had rolled to the other side, the rocket careening through the room, destroying one of the pillars in the far end, rumbling the already damaged roof. Jason let out a bullet and the man who carried the launcher was laying in a pool of his own blood.

Jason grabbed the chair and with one hand pulled Roy back up, producing a knife from his boot and slicing Roy free from his bondage.

People say Jason’s many things. A murderer, a criminal, a maniac. Lately, people have been calling him a mercenary, but he’s more than that. He’s not a mercenary- His internal monologuing was interrupted by Jason handing him a handgun and speaking through the voice distortion in his helmet.

“Get up, Harper. Cover my ass. I need your help for a job. Big payout.”

All right. So maybe he’s a little bit of a mercenary.

Roy checked the gun in his hand, while being disarmed like this a handgun was honestly kind of a sick joke – he could barely reload the gun. The two former sidekicks fought their way out of the compound, watching eachother’s backs. Jason was doing most of the fighting, Roy mostly watching the flanks as he was in no shape to really be fighting paramilitary separatists today. He had had a very long week.

One of the soldiers snuck up on them and had Jason dead to rights, but a swift bullet from Roy’s gun into his neck countered any plans he had of ending the reign of the Red Hood. Finally, they reached the last roadblock before they were out. But, much to their dismay, the Quracis had setup a 50-caliber machinegun on the barricade in front of the door. Jason pulled Roy to the floor and they both slid behind cover as the gunfire. Each shooting to their own flank, keeping the enemies from getting around them till Roy’s pistol made the sound no gunman ever wants to hear. Out of bullets.

He let out an aggressive ‘HMM’ to Jason, able to produce a single word
“GUN”

Jason firing off a salvo looked at Roy and swiftly pulled a new mag from his jacket, sliding it across the floor to Roy.
“Yeah yeah, quit bitchin’.” He groaned at his friend. Whom let out another angry sound. Gesturing to his left arm, ending shortly after his shoulder.

“Hey man, you’re the genius inventor. Get inventive, stumpy.” Roy rolled his eyes and produced a sound that was the closest he could get to a ‘fuck you’. Nudging the mag with the grip of his pistol, he made the mag stand up, he swiftly ejected the old clip and slammed the gun down onto the new one, pulling the slider back with his teeth. A shard of glass on his side from a shot-to-pieces mirror revealed that the machinegunner was focusing on Jason’s side, as Roy had stopped firing for a few seconds. He rolled out of cover and Jason shouted at him to get back here but had to return to shooting on his flank. Roy stood hunched, fired one bullet, and then rolled back behind the pillar on the other side of the cover. His sole bullet careened through a small opened in the barricade and swiftly embedded itself in the skull of the man firing the machinegun.

Jason threw out a flashbang and while everyone was blinded, Roy including, his helmet protected him from the flash. He ran to Roy, pulled him up and pushed the blinded foes, easily getting past their now neutered defenses and shooting anyone who got too close. Dashing out into the courtyard, they ran past three jeeps that Roy got unamused by, Jason tossing Roy into the backseat of a far shittier looking jeep than the ones in the compound as he got into the drivers’ seat, putting the pedal to the metal. Jason threw a four pack of sunwarm water bottles at Roy from the passenger seat, who immediately tore the cap off one and downed the entire thing and then another one, and then poured the third one onto himself.

“All right, Jason. What the fuck?! I appreciate the water. But why did you take this piece of junk and not those pristine sand racers?!”
Roy’s tone got more annoyed as he peered behind them, seeing the jeeps behind, gaining on them. Each jeep packed to the brim with angry gunmen.
“See, those jeeps have a disadvantage.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that? More weight because they don’t have as many rust holes?!”
Jason’s helmet pulled back into it’s collar-mode, his black and white-striped hair blowing in the wind as he turned to Roy and smiled, pulling up a detonator in his hand.
“I planted explosives in them.” Pressing the button and the pursuers exploded.
Roy’s expression was blank with shock and surprise. Then he cracked into a laugh and after just a few short moments Roy began coughing which was when Jason started laughing.

“Shut your cakehole and drink water. We’ve gotta get over the border. I’ve got a safehouse in Bialya.” Roy was downing another bottle of water and as soon as the bottle was dry, the asymmetrical archer was asleep.

Variety Hour: An Absolute Comics Roleplay

OUTLAWS

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

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

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

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

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

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Hillan's Parade Of Characters

T H E B A T M A N

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_{^{Bruce Wayne
The Symbol
Dick Grayson
The Leader
Jason Todd
The Soldier
Tim Drake
The Detective}}

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

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Bruce Wayne realizes his one-man crusade is unfeasible and instead recruits his three adoptive sons into the fray and trains them from a very young age into becoming capable crime fighters in their own way. A tale about family, trust and kicking a lot of ass - a family business, as it were.

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

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

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S A M P L E P O S T:

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BANG

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

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Variety Hour: An Absolute Comics Roleplay

Gotham City, 22 Years Ago.

The monorail was riding into town from New York, onto the Island outside of Jersey. The island known as Gotham City, America's Fourth biggest metropolitan area, second-to-last in primary education results, lowest amount of teenagers who graduate from high school and the highest mortality due to violent crime in the world. You were more likely to get shot in Gotham than you were in war-torn Sokovia or any of the destabilized areas in Africa and the Middle East where Warlords ran free. For Rebels, Freedom Fighters, Warlords, and hell, even terrorists believe in something. They answer to something greater. And they fear consequences for their actions. They believe in being in the right, in being just. That one day, they will have to stand to answer for their actions. That one day, someone, something, will hold them accountable.

In Gotham, there's no such thing. The criminals in Gotham do not believe in any god worth fearing. They don't believe in political motivations or in any ideals. Their thirst for violence and their greed seems all but infinite. The 26 year old heir-to-billions pondered this, as he sat on the train looking worn down. He had just gotten back from his travels, taken the flight into Jersey and the train out into Gotham - there had been a bombing at the Archie Goodwin Airport. He shook his head. There was nothing quite like being home.

The train rolled into the station, and at the station stood his dapper butler, well dressed in a three piece suit, as always. A smile crept up on the heir's face as the butler saw him and smiled gently at him. It had been four years since they had last seen each other. Bruce had seen the wonders of the world. But, perhaps more important he had seen the wonders within himself.

He knew what he was going to do, now that he was back home. He had a mission, a purpose. It wasn't to return to his father's post as head of Wayne Enterprise. He had left Gotham as a notorious bachelor, a playboy who had more money than sense. A man who was known for spending money on fast cars and totaling them - walking out of the wreckage with a supermodel on either arm. All of that was just a bandaid. A way to take his mind off the pain, off the sorrow, the anger. To contain white-hot flame that burned inside of him. But he wasn't afraid of the fire anymore, no, he gladly placed his hand on top of it, feeling it's sting.

"Master Bruce. I'm glad to see you home safe." Alfred said, ceremonoiously, reaching for Bruce's bag, who in turn held the bag away from Alfred, instead going in for a hug.
"It's good to be home, Alfred." Bruce spoke, softly. Alfred hugged his ward, his eyes getting more narrow as he caught a whiff of the billionaire.
"You smell repugnant, Master Bruce." Bruce chuckled
"It's gunpowder. And sweat. Lots of sweat." Alfred smiled and scoffed
"Well, I'm glad you're home safe, Master Bruce."
"I'm not planning on staying safe for long, Alfred. We have work to do." Bruce's words were strong and sure. He had never once been more convinced of anything in his entire life.

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Four years Later
In the gutter outside of Falcone's Bar sits the man, drenched in his own cape. Blood running from his mouth, he can't move his left leg and he's so tired and bleeding so much that he can't really move at all at the moment. His gloves right hand's knuckles have been beaten raw through the reinforced material, torn apart from him grinding his knuckles against something - or rather, someone. As around him there lays a dozen knocked out and broken men, and next to them there's their weapon of choice. Tire irons, knives, machetes, butcher knives, handguns, a couple sawed off shotguns and four submachine guns can be spotted easily. Upon closer inspection, you can tell his leg can't be moved because there's a piece of rebar sticking through it.

The cloth covering his face is torn over the left side of his face, revealing his dirty and wet hair from the rain, the rain running down blood from his forehead onto his eyebrow, dripping onto his cheek and then washed onto the stone tiles. In the window to the bar, another two goons were knocked out, heads smashed out of the window from the inside. And the further into the room you would move, the more thugs you would find, all beaten within an inch of their life. Hours later, the GCPD would ransack the place and along with millions of dollars worth of contraband, they would also find 37 known criminals, plus six suspected new recruits into the Falcone family. It's the most devastating blow to the organized crime circuit in Gotham City since Edgar J. Hoover.

But for the man in the cape with the now broken pointy ears? It was the culmination of ten years hard work. A four year long crusade on the villainous scum of the world. It was his war. It feels like the end. And in a way, it is. If the wrong police cruiser had pulled up to the scene, the masked vigilante would be met with a swift bullet to the brain and a falsified report. But luckily for him, Detective Jim Gordon was the one who stepped out of the cruiser, his partner, Harvey Bullock searched the back of the place while Jim covered the front. The found the Bat-Man in the gutter and carried him away from the scene, and supplied him with first-aid, before helping his partner.

The Bat removed his cowl and cape, Jim would dump them and when the ambulance arrived, all they would find was a man wearing a reinforced motorcycle getup who had gotten in bad with the gang. A fictive story about the billionaire being mugged by the Falcones before the masked vigilante swooped in and saved the day would make the newspaper. And Bruce Wayne became the first high-profile person the Batman would have ever saved and the Batman was immortalized as a symbol of hope and wide-spread social change in Gotham, for after the incident the entire city got invigorated for a time, and started fighting back against the superstitious and cowardly lot. He had finally given the criminals of Gotham something greater than their greed or thirst for violence. He had brought them fear.

And all it cost him was his pride... And his leg. The media would dub the Falcone Bar assault as testament to the supernatural nature of The Batman, for no one man could have done something like this.
No one man... The statement planted the seeds for a plan inside the recovering Bruce's mind, he and his three adopted sons had their future set for them.

Naruto: Black Sun

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. Wednesday, 10:00

Amegakure Eastern Border

Unagi grinned as the genin she had fought, Gai, as she would learn his name was, was knocked out on the ground after her attack. She smirked and giggled. "Awww, he's all tuckered out. How cute!" She beamed, turning towards the others and watching her brother fight. She saw plenty of openings to join in and help, but she also understood that doing that would hurt Sakana's pride - and more importantly, piss him off more than any enemy shinobi could do. Instead, she watched the fight transpire, figuring out the ruse much in the same way Team 3's Jonin did. She blurted out "Hey, it's the gir-" before Sakana explained what was going on, and she let him speak.

Sakana sent the team packing, following Unagis earlier advice. Once Gai was helped by the medical ninja on the team, he was regaining conciousness. He shot a glare at Unagi, who smirked, winked and blew him a teasing kiss. "Come back when you'll actually be a challenge, cutie" She teased, turning to the rest of her team, eyeing her brother.

"I appreciate a little rest and relaxation while Sakana does the paperwork. Maaan, being a jonin must suck. All of that paperwork, huh." She said, as Gareki began talking about the Chunnin exams and then boasting. "You are pretty green. You tend to leave yourself open on the right side, you overcompensate with your right arm to protect your left. Could get you hurt eventually. Other villages have very strong people, too. " She analyzed, showing the same kind of cold-approach that was her brothers trademark, before turning back into her giddier self.

"'Sides, passing the exam isn't just about bashing heads. You need teammates, and we can't do it with you - so you'd be placed with people you don't know. And the first part of the exam's a written test. You have to be prett-ey sharp to figure that one out. Monik Hasagawa sure couldn't, which is why that stabby-bitch is still a genin." The bubbly Unagi explained to her genin-teammate, mentioning her former rival back in her Genin days in a rather spiteful way despite giggling about it.

"You might just have to impress Amekage-Sama directly to get promoted without the need for an exam" She joked, winking. "Let's go home."

They began moving to Shigeki to await their teacher. Unagi was kind of hungri and kind of craved dumplings.

Naruto: Black Sun

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. Wednesday, 9:35

Amegakure Eastern Border

Once the fighting broke out between the resilient - and determined Konoha Nin, and her far more resilient and determined older brother, Unagi was quick to jump into the action. Once the fires died from from Sakana's Fireball jutsu, she prepared an attack to shatter the earth-dome, but that became unneccsary once it came down all on it's won, the four Konoha Shinobi flocking out of it at once. One of them focused Unagi immediately, she had noticed the extra-deep pools of rain water on the battlefield prior, but now it became apparent that it was part of a trap, as two figures emerged from the water.

"Hiding in Water; Chain Capture Technique!" The Genin's three bodies bursted through, the one who didn't carry any weapons was the one who would be Unagis opponent. The steel chain was wrapped tightly, the two water-clones, she presumed, stood opposite sides of her, holding the chain that was now locked tight around her, she winced a little at the tightness and mostly bothered by how cold the chains were.
"Oh my. I'm locked down tight, huh. I guess I really messed up this time..."

The genin whistled and nodded towards his comrade with the greatsword, whom saw the captured Kunochi and grinned, drawing his blade, he lept from the ground, going to crush Unagi with a big swing.

As the blade came towards her, she flexed her hands, unleashing her jutsu
"Raiton: Stormcloud Defense" The lightning surged from her body, slacking the chains and traveling the electricity through the metal chain all the way into both of the water-clones, making them both explode instantly. The sword-wielding genin was now in the air and on the way to Unagi.

"Ah, freedom. That's a lot better. And now you, you double-teaming douchebag!" She first exclaimed, getting more serious at the incoming threat in the air.
She spun-around and lightning appeared on her heel.
"Raiton: Thunder Axe"
delivering the heel-kick to the broadside of his sword as he came in contact with her, deflecting the blade - and the genin, before he could hit her, or the ground. He was separated from his blade and his teammates, the one who had held her captured was busy fighting one of Unagis teammates, leaving the younger of the Uragiri siblings into a beautiful one-on-one scenario. She knew full well she could probably have just finished the guy off with a kunai to the throat - he was wide open, after all. But the genin was able to deflect Sakanas attacks, so he could at least provide her a good workout.

She used her Pack-A-Punch technique and lightning sparked from her knuckles as she got ready to charge him with a series of quick jabs, kicks and punches that the genin with the big sword found very hard to deflect. But he kept his defense up and was only dealt glancing blows by the chunnin, even manging to go on the offense for a second, something Unagi found amusing. He tore up the scenario with his blade.

"Oh my, you really do have quite the big... Sword, huh." Unagi taunted, throwing her hair to the side and out of the way in a act of non-chalance to her opponent.

"But I believe it's time to get serious here." She smiled, the genin got worried, further stressed. He unleashed his attack and Unagi did the handseals required, putting her hand to her mouth and unleashing her wind-technique.

Fuuton: Gale Breath
Her wind jutsu blew the genin into the tree behind him hard enough to seemingly knock him out cold. She dusted her hands off and declared it a won fight, turning to help the rest of her team.