Ezekiel
PatientBean
Mao Mao
Retired
Cyberlad
Qia
Half Pint
Festive
mickilennial
AndyCC H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
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S P I D E R – M A N
* * *
"You got the hyphen, right?"
"You got the hyphen, right?"
P E T E R P A R K E R ♦ P E N D I N G ♦ Q U E E N S , N E W Y O R K
O R I G I N S:
The gen-u-wine classic. Accept no imitations.
The perfect character for this setting, webs branching across the superhero community. To set a good anchor line for this RP, we’ll be getting a straight-down-the-line version (with a slight tweak to his affinty/relationship with his own webbing and its creation - see the sample) on the classic – albeit modernised for the technology of the day for the science-enthused teen of the 2020s.
He’s in the last term of his junior year of high school (looking forward to the following year being his final year of high school - the horizon beckons, and his responsibilities loom large). Uncle Ben has JUST died. So I won’t be playing through that beat-for-beat for the tragic stuff, but it’ll likely still pop up in flashbacks… he’s also coming to terms with the fact it’s just happened, and the lesson it beat into him like a drum.
The perfect character for this setting, webs branching across the superhero community. To set a good anchor line for this RP, we’ll be getting a straight-down-the-line version (with a slight tweak to his affinty/relationship with his own webbing and its creation - see the sample) on the classic – albeit modernised for the technology of the day for the science-enthused teen of the 2020s.
He’s in the last term of his junior year of high school (looking forward to the following year being his final year of high school - the horizon beckons, and his responsibilities loom large). Uncle Ben has JUST died. So I won’t be playing through that beat-for-beat for the tragic stuff, but it’ll likely still pop up in flashbacks… he’s also coming to terms with the fact it’s just happened, and the lesson it beat into him like a drum.
S A M P L E P O S T:
Peter looked down at the bed. The suit lay crisp and pressed.
And as a stark, grim reminder to the lesson his kind Uncle had tried to instil in him earlier that week. The words he'd failed to take to heart when he was in his 'other' suit.
With a solitary heavy sniff, he wiped his steadily moistening eyes and set to task, donning the shirt.
"Not my problem, pal..."
Life had a way of making these kinds of things your problem. The ol' Parker luck was never exactly the best, high-quality, brandname luck... But when you don't want to go tempting fate or karma or what have you with things like that.
Life can change in an instant. And a lot of the time its the decisions you barely even acknowledge at the time as being a decision, which can sometimes make all the difference. To come back and bite you.
"Now come along class, as interesting as Oscorp's great leaps in gene therapy to create the next generation of bioengineered silkworms may be, there's even more to be seen in the Robotics and Cybernetics laboratories."
"But this one's missing..."
He kept looking over the glass case, the silkworm was indeed gone. His hands spread across the glass, as he scoured the case looking for where it could have possibly gone.
He didn't notice the reason it was gone as it slowly lowered itself on thin threads of gossamer.
He had no idea that the genetic elasticity from the bioengineered silkworm was altering the spider's own genetic structure, as the arachnid intermediary would in turn affect the oblivious teen with the plasticity of its own genetics.
It made him stronger, faster, able to cling and climb walls, and gave him this strange afinity with a strange substance he discovered after the incident.
He suspected that wasn't merely a coincedence. But in hindsight, he should probably be grateful he wasn't shooting webs out of his butt, or vomiting them up, like either of the two creatures before him in the predator/prey relationship which led to his newfound spider powers.
The webfluid he'd discovered, hardened rapidly on contact with air. He'd engineered himself some 'web-shooters' which allowed him to fire web-lines long distances, or disperse the web fluid in a few other useful ways. Most interesting of all, and the fact that led him to believe that none of this was a coincedence, was the fact that his affinity for this substance led him to extrasensory feelings around its use.
As a result, he would know where his weblines were without looking, and could even use highly concentrated globs of webfluid to create 'spider tracers' which he could sense where those concentrated globs were from far across town.
For a short while after, he had cursed his powers. But that was the emotion. The rage. The sadness.
They weren't the problem. The problem was that those powers weren't being properly respected. Just as his uncle had said, in a roundabout way. He just didn't know that the great power he'd been referring to... well it hapened to be super.
But that only called for even more responsibility. He could see that now. And he'd live up to it. For Uncle Ben. He deserved more than for it to be a lesson not learned from.
As he pulled his pants on he looked up at the webshooters he had resting on the shelf. Hiding in plain sight, by his homemade lightsaber and his attempt at a hoverboard. If he'd stowed them in his closet it would raise more questions from his Aunt than if they were left out, looking like something he'd made because he saw something in a movie.
He got to his feet and picked up the tie, popping his collar to affix it. As he began the windsor, he saw the form letter from Oscorp. It was signed Norman Osborn CEO, and was a stronghanded attempt to remove all culpability for what happened in the school incident, and whilst it didn't specifically threaten, reading between the lines it suggested that any attempts to get renumeration for damages by civil suit would be met with a countersuit for the damages to Oscorp IP, a reminder of the permission slips for the trip that gave lattitude in absolving the company from liability and the fact that Oscorp has surveillance tapes of every minute every student was on Oscorp property.
He wondered if Norman Osborn was aware he went to school with his son. Or if he even knew what school and class was there that day. Or if he even had a part in writing this letter himself, or even if it had just been electronically signed.
So much for getting his medical bills covered, not that the doctors even did much. By the time they saw him he was already feeling better. So it looks like he'd have to find another way to bring in some money to cover expenditures. Uncle Ben was retired, but he'd do odds and ends in the community for a little extra, and social security covered most things with the house already paid for. But with his death, life insurance just gave the one big lump sum payout, a lot of which went into this funeral. For the most part things would be OK, but things were tight. And they didn't have much for a rainy day in the household.
And the old Parker Luck happened to find every raincloud there was in the sky at the best of times.
There was only one thing for it. He'd need a job. And something that pays off a little better than a newspaper route. But these were thoughts best left for another day.
Staightening his tie, he slung his suit jacket over his back.
"Peter! Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah, Aunt May! Just finished now!" He called back.
And as a stark, grim reminder to the lesson his kind Uncle had tried to instil in him earlier that week. The words he'd failed to take to heart when he was in his 'other' suit.
With a solitary heavy sniff, he wiped his steadily moistening eyes and set to task, donning the shirt.
"Not my problem, pal..."
Life had a way of making these kinds of things your problem. The ol' Parker luck was never exactly the best, high-quality, brandname luck... But when you don't want to go tempting fate or karma or what have you with things like that.
Life can change in an instant. And a lot of the time its the decisions you barely even acknowledge at the time as being a decision, which can sometimes make all the difference. To come back and bite you.
"Now come along class, as interesting as Oscorp's great leaps in gene therapy to create the next generation of bioengineered silkworms may be, there's even more to be seen in the Robotics and Cybernetics laboratories."
"But this one's missing..."
He kept looking over the glass case, the silkworm was indeed gone. His hands spread across the glass, as he scoured the case looking for where it could have possibly gone.
He didn't notice the reason it was gone as it slowly lowered itself on thin threads of gossamer.
He had no idea that the genetic elasticity from the bioengineered silkworm was altering the spider's own genetic structure, as the arachnid intermediary would in turn affect the oblivious teen with the plasticity of its own genetics.
It made him stronger, faster, able to cling and climb walls, and gave him this strange afinity with a strange substance he discovered after the incident.
He suspected that wasn't merely a coincedence. But in hindsight, he should probably be grateful he wasn't shooting webs out of his butt, or vomiting them up, like either of the two creatures before him in the predator/prey relationship which led to his newfound spider powers.
The webfluid he'd discovered, hardened rapidly on contact with air. He'd engineered himself some 'web-shooters' which allowed him to fire web-lines long distances, or disperse the web fluid in a few other useful ways. Most interesting of all, and the fact that led him to believe that none of this was a coincedence, was the fact that his affinity for this substance led him to extrasensory feelings around its use.
As a result, he would know where his weblines were without looking, and could even use highly concentrated globs of webfluid to create 'spider tracers' which he could sense where those concentrated globs were from far across town.
For a short while after, he had cursed his powers. But that was the emotion. The rage. The sadness.
They weren't the problem. The problem was that those powers weren't being properly respected. Just as his uncle had said, in a roundabout way. He just didn't know that the great power he'd been referring to... well it hapened to be super.
But that only called for even more responsibility. He could see that now. And he'd live up to it. For Uncle Ben. He deserved more than for it to be a lesson not learned from.
As he pulled his pants on he looked up at the webshooters he had resting on the shelf. Hiding in plain sight, by his homemade lightsaber and his attempt at a hoverboard. If he'd stowed them in his closet it would raise more questions from his Aunt than if they were left out, looking like something he'd made because he saw something in a movie.
He got to his feet and picked up the tie, popping his collar to affix it. As he began the windsor, he saw the form letter from Oscorp. It was signed Norman Osborn CEO, and was a stronghanded attempt to remove all culpability for what happened in the school incident, and whilst it didn't specifically threaten, reading between the lines it suggested that any attempts to get renumeration for damages by civil suit would be met with a countersuit for the damages to Oscorp IP, a reminder of the permission slips for the trip that gave lattitude in absolving the company from liability and the fact that Oscorp has surveillance tapes of every minute every student was on Oscorp property.
He wondered if Norman Osborn was aware he went to school with his son. Or if he even knew what school and class was there that day. Or if he even had a part in writing this letter himself, or even if it had just been electronically signed.
So much for getting his medical bills covered, not that the doctors even did much. By the time they saw him he was already feeling better. So it looks like he'd have to find another way to bring in some money to cover expenditures. Uncle Ben was retired, but he'd do odds and ends in the community for a little extra, and social security covered most things with the house already paid for. But with his death, life insurance just gave the one big lump sum payout, a lot of which went into this funeral. For the most part things would be OK, but things were tight. And they didn't have much for a rainy day in the household.
And the old Parker Luck happened to find every raincloud there was in the sky at the best of times.
There was only one thing for it. He'd need a job. And something that pays off a little better than a newspaper route. But these were thoughts best left for another day.
Staightening his tie, he slung his suit jacket over his back.
"Peter! Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah, Aunt May! Just finished now!" He called back.
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 interactions and stories.
