Master Bruce

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

@Master Bruce

The Merc With A Mouth (WIP)

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

DEADPOOL/ THE MERC WITH A MOUTH



"Disney and DC working together? I hope Ryan Gosling plays me in the crossover movie.”

WADE WILSON ♦ MERCENARY ♦ BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA

O R I G I N S:

Wade was born in Vancouver, British Columbia, living with an abusive father and an absentee mother. His life was relatively every day, but as a child, he had a habit of getting into trouble. His big mouth was the thing that got him into a lot of trouble. As an adult, he joined the Canadian military, being a part of conflicts in the Middle East. Serving a couple of tours of duty before being dishonourably discharged. After his military career, he became a mercenary, working mainly for the highest bidder.

Wade soon became sick and found out that he had terminal cancer. Finding out that there was a program that could help him. He took part in the Weapon X program. He was tortured for many months, unlocking his mutant abilities. Escaping from the facility and continuing his work as a mercenary.

Getting into conflicts with the likes of the X-Men and The Avengers. Wade worked with A.I.M. Task Master, and anyone else that would pay Wade a large sum of money. During his time as a merc, he found love with Death. But since he was unable to die, he could never be with his true love. In reality, Death wants nothing to do with Wade and tries to avoid him whenever he dies. At one point, he got into a fight with the titan Thanos and was beaten so severely that it took months for him to recover fully. At some point in her career, he joined The X-Men or The Avengers. But this relationship would rarely last as he would either leave or betray them when the villain would pay him a lot of money.

S A M P L E P O S T:

OSCORP LABORATORY; Alberta, Canada.
Time: 22:00 PM
Feeling: Can’t get livin’ la vida loca out of his head.

Wade crouched behind some boxes while waiting for security guards to pass by, taking a moment to sneak past them inside the lab. “Man, sneaking here was easier than I thought.” Wade mumbled as he entered the building. He was sent here to get some material that his employer wanted. He didn’t question it. He just knew the payout would be worth all this trouble. He slowly moved toward the central laboratory while avoiding the scientists and guards going on with their day. Stopping momentarily to steal a cup of Tim Horton’s (™) Coffee cup on a nearby desk. “Mmm, damn fine cup of coffee. Thank you, Tim, for the amazing coffee.” Burping softly while putting the cup back on the table.

“I wish the coffee was better. It’s a bit bland. Mcdonald’s (™ ) coffee is better.” One voice in his head spoke.

“It’s not that bad, to be honest. It’s got a bit of a strong taste, but it’s honestly not bad.” Another voice spoke. These voices were only in Wade’s head, but they could occasionally provide good insight into what was going on in the world.

He moved further into the laboratory and was in the area where the object he was after was being held. Moving closer toward the containment unit, he noticed he had no keys to open it. But that did not stop him from trying to open it. Standing up and standing near the unit, Deadpool pulled out his pistol and shot the glass, making it shatter into millions of pieces. The alarms started to blare, which didn’t seem to faze Wade.

Guards seemed to rush into the room armed with pistols and SMGs. “Don’t mind me, fellas; I’m just making a withdrawal.” Deadpool aimed his guns at the guards and started firing at them. Their bullets either missed their mark or went right through Wade, although being shot at was not really an inconvenience for him.

“Hi, you're ruining my suit.” Wade took out a grenade from his belt and flung it at a group of guards. Some jumped out of the way, while others were caught in the explosion. Sending some chunks of flesh flying onto the ground.

“It is raining, men; good thing I got an umbrella.” One voice quipped while another soon chimed in.

“Uhhh, we don’t have an umbrella.” This was the voice of reason, while the other had much sillier thoughts.

‘You know we need a good song to listen to while this happens; what should we play?” The silly voice spoke.

“I know how about a little Shania?” The serious voice suggested. Wade agreed that some Shania wouldn’t be too bad to listen to. It filled his head when he decided he could hear the singer’s beautiful voice in his head.

Wade quickly grabbed one guard coming towards him, using him like a human shield. Moving towards the other group that had just come into the room. He motioned his pistol to a nearby gas tank, making it explode. Killing a few of the guards in the process. During the confusion, he threw the now dead body of the guard, putting away his guns and taking out his swords. Cutting the remaining guards into pieces. “Slice and dice just like momma like’s to make. Now that the guards are dealt with, I can get what I came here for.” Deadpool walked over to the containment unit, grabbed whatever it was, and placed it into his fanny pack.

“Fanny packs are cool.” the silly voice said, to which Wade agreed by nodding his head. He put away his sword and turned around, surprised by who stood before him.

“Well, if it’s, isn’t my best friend? How have you been my favourite short king? It’s been a long time.” Smiling underneath his mask, the mutant brandied his claws while walking towards him.

“I think he’s gonna hug us; I’m so excited!!!” The silly voice sounded quite excited.

“I don’t think he wants to hug us.We better make like a leaf and get out of here.” The more serious voice corrected him and warned Wade to start running 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 interactions and stories.

@Eviledd1984

You're free to apply for Deadpool, but this game's setting is the first week of superheroes emerging. There aren't any Avengers or X-Men to speak of.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

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

H U L K

"Go ahead. Try and piss me off."

^{_{David Bruce Banner ♦ MIA Nuclear Physicist ♦ Formerly Albuquerque, New Mexico}}

O R I G I N S:

---

There was always something wrong with Bruce Banner. Following frequent bouts stemming from alcoholism, his father Brian would meticulously belittle him and his mother and make the family's lives a living hell. By the time he was seven, Bruce would often shield Rebecca from Brian's increasingly violent outbursts, becoming unhealthily attached to the only source of stability he'd ever known. But at a short frame and severely underdeveloped due to malnutrition and stress, Bruce never stood a chance against Brian's fists and array of hurled household objects. It wasn't until he was twelve years old that he'd finally had enough of the daily trauma, and snuck a firearm from a classmate's father while visiting the house. It was loaded, and Bruce was fully prepared to pull the trigger on Brian without so much as a second's hesitation.

Then Rebecca found it. While she had every reason to be horrified that her son would go to such a length to finally be rid of their shared tormentor, her reaction was much different. One of calm serenity - of a way out. Weeks later, Rebecca saw her opportunity and sent Bruce off to stay with relatives for the night, having saved enough money for him to see a movie. Even made the excuse that the reason she wasn't going was because Brian had given her a black eye - a lie that, at any other time, would have been true anyway. Whenever Bruce returned home, police were outside and had Rebecca in cuffs. A pool of blood and clear signs of a massive struggle were visible from the kitchen. Brian Banner was murdered by his tortured wife - all breathed a sigh of relief. But despite it being the end of one problem, a much deeper problem had made itself apparent: before this, Rebecca had long suffered from paranoid schizophrenia that had manifested as a low-level Dissociative Personality Disorder. And it was genetic.

The revelation guided Bruce throughout the rest of his youth, pushing him to keep others at an arm's length as he entered school studies to become a geneticist - to find a way to cure his mother and prevent himself from suffering a cruel twist of fate. There were methods of treatment available, and Banner even insisted on entering intensive therapy early. But the nightmares began to pop up more frequently and the mood swings made themselves apparent when he'd begin viciously arguing with his high school teachers and eventually, college lecturers. He'd even garnered a nickname for himself - Bruce "The Hulk" Banner, with the joke being that if he didn't get his way, he'd become not unlike a big unwieldy boat in a storm. It was only through falling for one of his many therapists - Dr. Betty Ross, the fiancee of Dr. Lenoard Sampson - that Bruce managed to quell his often volatile reputation. The two began an affair that would last off and on for years, completely without Leonard's knowledge. An affair that only ended when Bruce got his degree and established himself in the field of science, eventually bound for New Mexico under a top secret radiation research assignment codenamed "Project Worldbreaker".

The events that transpired would break the world more than anyone ever knew. And gives a new meaning to the phrase "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Home

"Sorry, Len, I'm just a bit rattled. Had to deal with Mr. Kerns again. You know how that goes..."

Elizabeth Ross pinned the cell phone between her ear and shoulder as she exited the car. A bag of a few meager groceries in one hand, and some Chinese takeout in the other, she nonchalantly marched up the driveway to the modest house she shared with her husband. Before she even reached the front door, she noticed a stack of letters sitting on the porch. Frustrated, she sighed to herself softly enough not to rouse Leonard's suspicion. The truth is that she had been anticipating this exact sight for weeks, given that neither she nor Leonard were around the house enough to collect the mail during the daytime. They were both workaholics and managed to keep all intimacy regulated to these evening phone calls, when he was amid a heavy caseload and she was just getting home. It was an uneventful life, but she had grown used to it. She silently hoped they both had, considering he never complained.

"That's the, what, hypochondriac? The one that told you he was convinced he..."

"Had eleven different tumors and they were all terminal? Yep. That's the one."

"Ouch. Sorry you had to sit through that again."

"The real problem is that he had me refer him to see a specialist, but she tells me that he didn't show up for the CT. And that she's been in contact with his radiologist, who's dealt with him before. His results have always been negative. The man's healthier than you and me and he still can't calm down about it."

"Maybe there's something else beneath the surface. A traumatic medical history when he was a kid..."

"Maybe he just won't rest until he's developed a few of them."

Betty paused, sighing out of frustration as she opened the door, the stack of letters shoved beneath her otherwise occupied arm.

"Sorry. That was testy."

"Testy, sure, but not entirely inaccurate. Sure you don't want to refer him over? Let me put him through the ol' highly-reliable Samson review?"

"No. Dammit, it's not even about him. Len, I'm just so... exhausted. It feels like it never ends over there. The office is great and the pay is the best I've ever had, but the clients... I swear, they're gonna be the death of me."

Placing everything on the kitchen counter, Betty placed her hands against it and leaned. The stress of the day washed over her and slowly made it's way out, now that she was in a calmer environment.

"Why don't you consider some vacation time? You know how much I've been begging you to go to Bermuda. And a buddy of mine tells me that the fishing up there is grand, this season. You'd get a hell of alot of sun, I'd get about three hundred types of oysters..."

She smiled to herself. Not at his corny proposition, but just at the mere thought of getting away to somewhere that wasn't... here. A different place that didn't carry these memories. These ghosts, as much as she didn't want to admit it.

"Mm. I'm not saying no, Dr. Samson..."

"But you're not saying yes, which is the clear sign of a woman who's reached her wit's end."

Removing her jacket and slipping out of her very tight shoes, she hesitated for a moment before answering.

"I... don't know. I'd have to think about it. Let me get back to you after I've had a very long, very hot and extremely bubbly bath."

"Nice. I can't think of a better way to ratchet up the water bill."

Betty smirked. "You know, you could join me if you hurried..."

"Tempting, but I'm afraid my schedule is about three times as long as yours. If we're gonna even consider this, I need to wrack up the PTO."

A crash.

Betty jolted upward, eyes widened, her heart pounding for what seemed like an eternity. Something had fallen over in the bedroom across the hall. Something made of glass, it sounded like to her, meaning that it was either one of the photos by the bed or one of the couple's mounted plaques by the dresser. Her hand trembling, unable to process whatever Lenoard was saying on the other end of the line as he droned on while oblivious to what was happening, Dr. Ross slowly pulled open the drawer beside the oven and quickly pulled out a large kitchen knife.

"Len. Someone's here."

"Hah. Good one. Yeah, bet it's your hypochondriac friend looking to verify another diagnosis..."

"Len. For god's sake, I'm not joking."

There was a pause.

"What?"

"Someone's in the house. Right now. I heard something fall."

"That's... honey, that can't be. We have an alarm system installed, the windows and doors are locked electronically, there's no..."

"Len. Shut up. Shut the fuck up and call the police."

"Call the... Betty? Betty, what are you doing? If you think someone's in there, get out of there! Get out of there right now and run!"

She placed the phone face-down on the counter, her eyes never leaving the door to the bedroom for a millisecond. Even as she heard her husband's pleas to get out of the house grow louder and more frantic, she began to ignore them. The fear was taking over, and her heart was now exploding in her ears louder than it ever had. Raising the knife infront of her as she slowly approached, Dr. Ross felt herself detached from the situation as quickly as possible. A sort of mental exercise to allow herself the ability to act first against this intruder and question everything second.

"Len? S-Sorry, you're breaking up. Say that... say that again?"

It was a pitiful lie meant to keep whoever was inside from guessing that she suspected anything. But it was the only lie she could muster up. There was even a part of her that began to think that something could have just fallen over of its own accord, that a slight breeze from the air conditioner had knocked over a frame. That she was being irrational and that there had never been anyone there at all.

Then she saw something move. Between the crack of the door as it hung slightly open, a shadow distinctly crossed the path where light would have otherwise protruded. Betty's heartbeat launched directly in her throat, and her breathing ceased. She stood motionless, the knife nearly falling out of her grasp.

There was someone here, alright. And she was all alone with them.

"Wh... Who's..."

Taking a deep breath, she strengthened her grip on the blade handle and began to frantically rush toward the door, her deep sense of panic be damned. This was her home and she was not about to be taken surprise in it. Not after the month she'd had, not after everything she'd gone through in the last year. It wasn't going to end like this, and whoever had broken in was about to get a rude awakening if they thought otherwise.

"STOP!"

Bursting through the bedroom door, shoulder first, Betty raised the knife into the air and closed her eyes. She tried to open them, but she was utterly too petrified at first. But she could hear it. The breathing that emanated from the other side of the room. It wasn't labored, but something about it was off. Like her would-be attacker was trying to register what they were looking at with her abrupt arrival. Shaking, her eyelids gently began to peel themselves apart...

It was a man. Hidden entirely in shadow, a man had somehow found his way into the bedroom. He was large, with an intimidating build. Betty could barely manage to pull herself together as she realized that her little kitchen knife might wound, but probably wouldn't kill this person if she had to attack.

Betty grit her teeth, her heart now firmly beating in her throat.

Her palms sweating.

Her mind screamed.

This was it. Now or never, she had to fight.

"Don't you move."

The man paused. Then, he stood up, revealing that he had been partly lying on the floor.

He was... tall. And he was growing even taller.

Betty's mouth went agape as he demonstrated a height that defied a conventional human. His muscles practically pulsated out of his skin. His skin was a pigment she had never seen in her life, a sort of gray... and a sort of green.

It took her a second to even realize that the entire southern wall of the room had been entirely knocked away, a dusty pile of rubble lying atop the soiled carpet. This man hadn't just broken in - he'd smashed his way through the house like a bulldozer. It was the only possible reason that no alarm had gone off. There were no entrances breached.

He'd made his own.

"I... I'm... I'm warning..."

Without warning, he stepped forward. A grunt emerged from within him. His face was suddenly fully in view, clear from the shadows.

Betty's heart stopped altogether. She recognized him.

"Oh my god."

He stood over her. Looked down at her. His expression turned from neutral to... rage.

^"Bruce?"

Before she could scream at the top of her lungs and feel the nightmare finally end, she saw a massive palm reach out to her and grab hold. Crushing. Blinding. Without a hint of humanity living within his grasp. She felt her bones begin to crumble beneath the massive surge of pressure, and without so much as a word, she surrendered to it. Because at this point, there was no point in fighting - he had her and he wouldn't let go.

This was how Betty Ross now believed she would die.

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

---

1. An Affliction

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

@Sep with the literal game-wide shade before the game even starts.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Since there's no-one else trying to stop you

@Sep

They probably should have tried, but I'm not complaining.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

The Allblade by @Hillan
Wolverine by @AndyC

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Go Character Sheet, I Choose YOU!!!

The Lanterns

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

The Lanterns

---

^{"Forever fight as one..."}

^{_{Thal Sinestro & Hal Jordan ♦ Military ♦ Coast City}}

O R I G I N S:

---

Strategic Homeland Intelligence Evaluation and Logistics Division, secretly known as the Super Human Identification Evaluation and Location Division, a WW2 organization designed to root out classified individuals who possessed abilities that the Public aught not be made aware of. Post war, they struggled to find relevance until alien creatures began descending upon Earth. Needing an organization to keep them under wraps, this job fell to S.H.I.E.L.D. One such alien that crashed to earth was a space ship containing 2 aliens. One dead, one barely alive, found by US Air Force Captain Hal Jordan after his plane went down with the alien craft. Upon investigating the alien ship, a Green ring leapt from the dead alien and attached itself to Captain Jordan. The living alien identified himself as Sinestro, the Golden Lantern.

Sinestro told S.H.I.E.L.D. about the Lanterns, a team of alien crusaders determined to rid the galaxy of evil using their magic rings. He also told them of the heinous villain known as Ronin the Executioner, an Alien Warlord who would stop at nothing to possess the Magic Rings for his own. Now the Rings were on Earth and Ronin would stop at nothing to get his hands on them. That his former team had been ambushed and destroyed by Ronin and his forces and that he and the dead alien, Abin Sur were the only ones to escape, but they did so with the rings. Now, most of them were scattered across Earth. They would need to find these Rings and find new hosts for them before Ronin tracked them here. Hopefully they may be able to get the Rings off of Earth and not turn this planet into another victim of his terrible wrath. He is coming and in an enormous warship, populated entirely by Ronin's slaves and his loyal warriors and they were always eager to find a new civilization to judge unworthy to continue existing.

So, it is with great uncertainty that S.H.I.E.L.D. has authorized a mission to recruit individuals and find these missing Power Rings in order to save Earth and hopefully keep it off of Ronin's radar.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Hal and Sinestro sat in a small room behind a two way mirror, looking into a small room with a table and 3 of the Rings, Orange, Red and Pink. "Alright, next applicatant." Hal said into the mic, a distorted version of his voice played into the small room.

"Hal Jordan, this is a most inefficient form of finding them." Sinestro scowled as he sat next to Hal.

"You'd prefer a battle royal?" He asked away from the mic as the next applicant walked in.

"A traditional tournament of combat is what is usually used on my homeworld to determine worthiness for such honoured artifacts." He sighed, looking at the man who walked in and sat down. Hal sighed.

"Look, we have plenty of war heroes on this planet to choose from. Plenty of some of the finest men and women i've ever had the good fortune of serving with." He looked over the records of the guy who had been sent in.

"Yes and every single one of them have failed..." He replied. "Your military is one of the largest and most powerful on the planet and yet your training has pushed every last ounce of imagination from your heads. Why the green ring ever chose you, i have no idea." He looked away, arrogantly. Hal shook his head. This guy was a tough nut, but he had worked with arrogant asses like him before. Hal knew how to handle them. He then leaned into the mic.

"Please state your name for the record." He ordered.

"Sgt. Clifford Zmeck. United States Air Force. Sir." The man replied. Hal continued to read his report, before wincing at this guys rap sheet. He leaned away from the mic again and stared at Sinestro

"And you're sure THIS guy has the imagination we are looking for?" He asked.

"Imagination comes in many forms. We have tried your way, let me try it mine." Sinestro replied, a cold, yet cool and calculated look on his face, as if he was vivisecting Zmeck with his eyes."

"Sgt Zmeck, you have quite a considerable amount of chargest levelled against you. What makes you feel you are suited for any form of Special Training Program?" Hal asked, leaning into the mic again. Zmeck grinned confidently.

"I am a decorated hero. Sure, i may have crossed a few lines here and there getting the job done, but America stands and it's men like me who are responsible for this." Hal saw the smile. That terrible smile on Zmecks face, as if he was reliving his crimes in his head.

"WHA-" Hal began as his rage boiled over, but he was pulled away from the mic by Sinestro who looked at him.

"May i ask the questions?" He asked. Hal looked at Sinestro.

"This guy is walking, talking garbage and if any of those rings choose him, i'm gonna hand mine back." Hal growled at Sinestro. "This man is a disgrace to the uniform and everything it stands for."

"But in him i see potential to become something better." Sinestro responded, before he leaned into the mic. "Sgt, in front of you are a tray of rings." He said, the garbled version of his voice playing in the room in front of them. "Please pick one up." Zmeck looked at them before picking up an orange one. A faint glow began to radiate from it."

"Well i'll be damned, you were right..." Hal was taken aback. None of the rings had reacted to any of the applicants. Not so much as a spark. But now this one was starting to glow in Zmeck's hands. But Sinestro was not smiling. Nor was he looking smug or any kind of indication that he was right.

"No... No i was not..." He said. He leaned into the mic "Sgt, drop the ring this instant." But Zmeck continued to stare into the ring, his eyes aglow as he stared, a grin slowly sneaking across his face.

"What's mine... Is mine..." He began as he seemed to start moving the ring towards his middle finger. "Is mine... is mine...." He groaned inan almost trance-like state. At this point, Sinestro smashed a big red button on the desk, the room in front of them instantly filling up with a greenish gas. "Is... Is... Mi... Is..." Zmeck slowly fainted as the anaesthatine gas was forced into his lungs.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Hal asked Sinestro. "HE REACTED BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE TODAY!"

"Reacted in the wrong way." Sinestro replied. "That wasn't him becoming a Lantern. That was the ring attempting to drain him. I have seen it before, i know the difference. It appears... You were right Hal Jordan..." Sinestro grunted through gritted teeth. Hal could see on Sinestro's face, those words hurt him more to say than the crash landing last month that Sinestro almost died in. Hal pressed another button on the mic.

"Clean up on Aisle 7." After the gas had cleared, a pair of S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents ran into the room, put the ring back on the table and dragged Zmeck off.

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.

@mattmanganon

Before your application is fully judged, I'd like to know one thing: would Ronan's forces be sizable? Because we're trying to keep things scaled down in the game right now to threats that each hero can handle one battle at-a-time, if not outright get their butts kicked the first few go-arounds, rather than having a bunch appear for a huge fight scene. Superman, for instance, isn't going to be facing off against any big villains of his own for some time like Brainiac or Bizarro. He needs to be built up to that point, so he's mostly just having scraps with city-based enemies like Metallo, Toyman, and the like. I'm getting a distinct Power Rangers inspiration off of this, so if I were to guess that Ronan sends threats down one at a time like Rita and Zedd did the Rangers, that'd be very in-keeping with the game and would be acceptable.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

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


^{"Not a bird. Definitely not a plane."}

---

Clark Joseph Kent ♦ Intern At The Daily Planet ♦ Metropolis

O R I G I N S:

---

The City of Metropolis, 1994. On the heels of a breakthrough discovery by STAR Labs director and renowned astrophysicist Doctor Alexander Luthor, something went horribly wrong. After a beacon was inadvertently shot into the vast reaches of deep space carrying an extraterrestrial code, meteors began to appear in the skies directly above. And with their arrival came absolute devastation. Buildings were smashed, cars were flattened, and explosions rippled across the skyline. A brilliant emerald fire consumed the heavens, striking below at helpless pedestrians and leaving a trail of massive craters for miles. And in the private lab in the bowels of STAR's main facility, Luthor lay nearly lifeless, disfigured with burns.

But with this devastation came a life-changing discovery by a kindly couple from Kansas. Having recently moved into the city to start a corner grocery store in Suicide Slums, Jonathan and Martha Kent heard a massive boom erupt just beyond their shop's walls. Thinking only of potential harm having come to one of their neighbors, they both bravely ventured into the destruction to try and help - and instead found a small silver craft with unrecognizable symbols etched into it, it's hull revealing an infant baby shielded inside. Taking the child into their arms, they immediately returned to safety for it's sake before helping survivors. By the time Jonathan returned to the crater, the craft had destroyed itself. The true nature of the baby's arrival was never discovered, as the Kents decided to adopt the child as their own, hoping to teach him how to exist within the confines of a city being rebuilt from the ground up - becoming 'The City Of Tomorrow', as shaped by the now reclusive billionaire Luthor.

But it became clear as he matured that their son Clark was developing in ways no other child would - that no other human could. The Kents went to great lengths to protect the nature of his strange abilities, teaching him right from wrong in a city that threatened to swallow up their old-fashioned goodwill in a siege of technological prowess. Still, they were never able to curtail Clark's boundless need to utilize his gifts - perhaps to atone for the violent nature of his arrival, perhaps because he simply needed to let it out of his system. A need that he carried with him into adulthood, where he has recently been granted a journalism internship for The Daily Planet, the television news network that employs Lois Lane, James Olsen, Cat Grant, and the legendary anchor-turned-news director Perry White. For his part, Clark didn't plan on revealing his powers to the world... but he also didn't plan to accompany Lane and Olsen on an assignment the very same day that a madman named Winslow Schott decided to attack the city with a series of heavily modified attack drones.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

First Impressions

"How's it hanging, rookie?"

Surprised, Clark Kent glanced over at one of his approaching senior co-workers as he finished preparing a fresh pot of coffee in the breakroom. It wasn't out of any sense of genuine fear on his part, but despite being officially interning for The Daily Planet for at least three days? Barely anyone had said so much as a word to him. The announcement of his arrival to the network had barely even been audible, between the introductions of a few others joining the staff - a kid named Troupe hired as a field correspondent, a woman in her mid-thirties named Izquierdo being transferred in as a producer - and the immediate devolution into a staff-wide debate on how to handle a chaotic breaking story, so Clark more than understood any confusion. But the complete inability to notice or greet him whatsoever was new.

The man was only seemingly a couple of years younger, if that, sporting a thin orange beard and nicely cut hair to match. He was instantly recognizable based solely on his vest, which was made of a thick material and covered in deep pockets. This was The Daily Planet's primary field cameraperson, a man whose picture was one of the lucky few to adorn the wall to the lobby of the building. He exuded a confidence that nearly took Clark aback, but it was a friendly kind of confidence. The kind that he had yet to see around the office so far.

"Uh, there's coffee."

Clark meekly pushed his glasses against the bridge of his nose, before sticking his hand out.

"Hello. I'm one of the interns."

"Interns? Oh! Right, you guys. I forget that old man Perry hires a couple of you around this time of year to break up the monotony. You're in for a wild ride, let me tell you."

Clasping Clark's hand with a firm grip, the man grinned.

"Name's Olsen. People call me Jim. I prefer Jimmy, if you don't mind."

Clark quietly breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed by at least one count, the abrasive world of nightly news wasn't as abrasive as it had appeared to be.

"Clark Kent. Nice to meet you."

As Olsen began to speak about how the coffee in the breakroom was the best in all the city, aswell as recommend a couple of good local spots to get a fresh cup for the lunch commute, Clark's ears automatically attuned to a couple of voices coming from the other side of the massive studio building. Having become used to this, Clark instinctively began to feign attention to Jimmy's rambling. He legitimately wanted to engage with the friendly co-worker, but it was as if his ears had a mind of their own. Listening in on conversations he would otherwise never hear or even know about was just one of the many burdens that came with Clark's series of "talents", as his mother affectionately called them.

"Are you kidding me?! That Luthor piece was a ratings smash in the making, Perry!"

"Ratings don't really mean much when they could invoke an army of litigators, Lois. You know that, considering the amount of them you've brought to our door..."

"Oh, like I asked for a Senator to cheat on his wife with a Mayoral candidate!"

"The station's still paying out to their campaign..."

"Regardless! Lex Luthor has been one of the top newsmakers in Metropolis since before you were even going gray. Which should tell you something about how long it's been..."

"Watch it."

"...and we finally put together a potential lead into why the rich weirdo's been hiding out in that literal ivory tower of his, but you want to kill it? What exactly does he even have to sue us for?"

"With the story? I'm not sure yet. With you being the one to read it on air? Plenty. Your objectivity has been waning in the past few months. You've been creating soundbites for the internet to stick every pitchfork they have at."

"It's called editorializing. Which I seem to remember you hiring me for in the first place."

"When you were behind a desk! When you were behind a desk and absolutely nobody had to pay the consequences for the things that came out of your mouth."

"S'a bit sexist, chief."

"First of all, your ability to spin things like this defies any gender-based discrimination. Secondly, DON'T call me..."

"The point is. The Planet finally has an angle to work from on the day-to-day of one of the world's wealthiest men on the cusp of a new scientific discovery. It's news, and you can't tell me otherwise."

"It is news, that I'll grant you."

"So why are you..."

"You seem to be confused about this request. And I'm calling it a request very generously because you're on my very last straw. I'm not asking the story to be buried altogether. I'm asking that you not be the one to deliver it when we go live."

"I'm the host of the damn program!"

"Yeah, and I'm starting to wonder for how long."

"What?!"

"How long you stay in that position, how long this station even exists at the rate you keep taking the legal department into court..."

"So, what, I should be more like you? Is that what you're asking? I should start developing a catchphrase to sell on the mugs in the station gift shop while being told to ignore the big stories?"

"You damn well know that I didn't come up with the Great Ceasar's Ghost thing. That was a producer's dumb idea in 1997, and it's haunted me ever since."

"The mug sitting on your desk right now begs to differ..."

"Lane. I'm telling you now. You're off the story. You wanna take on something in the field with Olsen, be my guest. But as far as the main broadcast is concerned, Cat's got it covered for tonight. By my request."

"Oh, screw you, White!"

"Lane? Lane! Get back here! We're not done! Great Caesar's... goddammit!"

Clark blinked once, unable to grasp the nature of the argument that he'd just heard.

"...and then there's Bibbowski's on 7th and Morrison. Bee-autiful selection of cocktails if you get there before the afternoon rush."

"Oh, I... don't drink, actually."

"To be honest? Me neither. I prefer a mountain of Red Bulls. But I like telling people about it, because believe me, a month here and you'll be desperate for something to kill the nerves."

As he and Olsen continued the mundane chat, he noticed a beautiful dark-haired woman fuming and muttering unrepeatable words at no one in particular as she cut across the news floor with a vengeance, a fresh pack of cigarettes visible in her back pocket. This was confirmed to be Lois Lane as she passed a giant mural on the far wall with her face plastered several feet high, paradoxically smiling widely and exuding an on-camera friendliness that didn't seem possible from the person he'd just heard.

Clark sighed. Even with all of his "talents", he didn't know if he was cut out for this business.

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

---

1. Don't Worry, We Won't Break Him
2. Not-So Mild-Mannered Intern
3. Not Playing Anymore
4. Call To Action

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Firebird, Jack Hawksmoor, and The Punisher, via @Pacifista, @Byrd Man, and @Simple Unicycle are hereby...

Now that I've successfully rigged the odds in my favor with backstage deals and threats got the roster up and going with a ton of characters and players on the docket, I'm announcing the launch of the IC thread to be this Tuesday. Gives you all a full 48 hours to write up your first posts while the rest of the current applications get processed.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

@webboysurf is our Daredevil

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

So what you're saying is, in order to prove you don't have special treatment, you want special treatment?

@Sep