I've been GMing for so long, I've been itching to get back to playing and I can see this has potential. I've made a skeleton thing of a CS but there's more info I need that I can't really get from the Information section: 1. What exactly is the Arcana Demense? Like the Mages Guild or something akin? 2. Is there an age of adulthood? Can anyone under said age be an adventurer? 3. How old are the Divided Kingdoms? Are they varying ages?
I've GMed a couple of games IRL and on this site before the legendary crash of Xmas 2013. Like I said above, I can see potential and, if you'd like, I can help you flesh out some aspects of your world. Ain't trying to hijack, really wanna jump back into a PC.
Daytime Anguish Downtown Queens The screams of anguish and rage echoed throughout the apartment. The cheers of glee overpowered them at times as the anger boiled over from the torment and anguish. Deadpool leaned forward, relishing the torture of the victims as they screamed in agony. Deadpool grinned from ear to ear.
“Told you he wasn’t the Daddy! Jerry, Jerry, Jerry!”
Deadpool laid back, panning out on the couch, in nothing but his underwear, hip holster and mask, which was pulled up above his mouth so he could stuff another handful of cheeseballs into it, the orange dust covering the edges of his lips and the tips of his fingers. Some leftover orange crumbs covered the scarred chest of the Merc as the next set of guests on the daytime TV show stepped up.
*You claim to be the world’s best mercenary, yet here you are, watching daytime trash TV while we have a high paying job sitting in front of us, literally!*
A small stack of files sat on the coffee table, a couple of photos sticking out of the cardboard covers that showed people, places and strange looking equipment. The thickest lay at the bottom, several papers rifled through from being shifted through several times.
“Also one of the most dangerous, I mean S.H.I.E.L.D.? I need to focus, collect my thoughts….”
The self-argument came to an end as the apartment loft’s door opened wide and a figure stepped through into the loft. Years of paranoia and training snapped into place as Deadpool drew his S&W from the holster at his hip, the barrel snapping to the target and the finger hovering over the trigger. The laser-point on the barrel’s end hovering over the entrant’s eye….or at least where the eye should be. The left patch covered the left eye area, the young girl stepped in to see the weapon pointed in her direction, only to sigh.
“D, didn’t I say that I would be back soon? I just went to get groceries.” She shifted her arms, the brown paper bags ruffling in her arms.
Deadpool shrugged, “One has to always be careful when you’re as dangerous as me, Al.” It would have sounded more impressive if his mouth was not spluttering chewed orange cheeseballs all over his semi-naked body as the handgun is slid back into its holster.
Al shook her head and marched into the kitchen area of the loft. Alexander Althea had known Deadpool for the past several months and had gotten used to some of his stranger quirks, she had to, considering he was giving her room and board in exchange for her services. Nothing sexual, Al would never sink that low, but Deadpool never seemed to show that kind of interest so she was content with the affiliation so far.
Al met Deadpool in a homeless shelter after the Merc had come recruiting, looking for his “Alfred” as he put it. None met Deadpool’s odd standards until Alexander stepped up. Wade told her if she could break down and reassemble the .45 ACP pistol, he’d take her in for free, chores included. Not only did she do just that, she did it in a very respectable time, under 5 minutes. This intrigued Deadpool and he took the young 20 year old into his loft apartment, informing her of her duties. She also didn’t ask why Deadpool wore his costume and he didn’t ask about her missing left eye.
It was then she began noticing Wade’s stranger quirks, such as taking to calling her “Blind Al”, despite the fact she had full vision in her right eye. When she finally asked him why, he merely shrugged and stated that “you remind me of someone I used to know.” Deadpool refused to comment further and, once when she’d pissed him off about it, he locked her in a room he called the “Box”, a room filled with sharp objects. She was thoroughly confused now, seeing as the room was lit and she could clearly see all of the obstacles.
Al sat the bags on the counter top and opened one of the overhead cabinets. A bunch of soft bags fell on Al’s head as she groaned, turning one of the bright bags over to read the front of the bag.
“Captian Carl’s CheesyBalls? How many did you buy, D?”
She answered her own question when she opened the other cabinets, finding more bags stuffed inside. She pressed her fingers into her eyes, calling out to Deadpool.
“D, I thought we discussed this. You bring in the money, I do the shopping and we don’t ask questions about what the other does.”
“But they were on sale! And we’ll be bringing in some big bucks soon.”
“What, the S.H.I.E.L.D. job?” Al bit her lip as she spoke too soon, realizing her slip.
“You’ve been reading my files again, Al? Didn’t we discuss that as well?”
“It was just sitting there wide open, you were out….. So it looks like this X guy you keep talking about has you doing some major jobs. It would be smart to do some of the other jobs first. Especially that Bloom Industries one……” She poked the conversation forward, hopping D would forget her infraction if he concentrated on the job.
Deadpool nodded in silent agreement. He’d been looking over the equipment that X wanted him to steal and he’s figured that taking some of the smaller companies would do first before going up against S.H.I.E.L.D. The Bloom job looked the most promising, with the development of some new teleport tech that was still in the trial stages, giving the user only short range capabilities, but, with the layout to the Helicarrier in his possession from the mysterious voice on the other end of the phone, it would mean that none of the locked doors would be a problem. Deadpool stood up, the crumbs falling from his scarred chest as he struck a valiant pose for his one audience member.
Sorry for my disappearance the last few days, between work (I'm a bartender and Paddy's Weekend is a nightmare) and starting my Masters course this week, just having time to sit down and write for myself has been almost impossible. Hopefully I'll be able to put up a post for Deadpool by tomorrow.
Oh don't worry, I've not intention of introducing X-Force. Like Dedonus said, it's more of a passing comment/use of medium awareness. It's kinda part of a story I've got planned (that does NOT involve X-Force :P).
@Dedonus my apologies about that. It is, of course, an app from the last All Stars, but I only just re-read the character history, never noticed that mention in there. I have taken that into account for any further stories but I do imagine that *some* of the public knew about mutants but decided to remain silent about it?
As for Deadpool killing off the Universe again, I think once was enough for him. In fact, this time, he may just be this Universes savior....
So this NightRaider guy’s app sucked so I decided I’d write my own. You’re welcome! D.
Character: Deadpool
Aliases/Nicknames: Wade Wilson, Merc with the Mouth, Cleaner of the Genepool, Weapon 11
Alignment: Whatever team isn’t beating the shit out of me at that particular moment.
Affiliation: I’ve been known to whore myself out to S.H.I.E.L.D., X-Force, Heroes for Hire, Secret Defenders, the Weapon X program, the Weapon Plus program, Agency X, X-Men (anymore Xs and you’ll find me in a porno!) and I’ve been known to pal around with Cable, Wolverine and Spidey. I feel it was a great honour for them to be allowed work with me.
Oh, and Bob, Agent of HYDRA. I like Bob.
Character Origin: A long time ago in a galaxy far far away……..
Wait, no.
The day my father Odin banished me from Asgard, I was bitten by a vampire and had nuclear waste dumped in my eyes. To make matters worse, my mutant ability to control weather activated just as I was hit by a blast of gamma radiation!
No, that’s not right either. Wait, now I remember!
Well, as near as I can remember, I was recruited by a branch of the Canadian government known as Dept. K into this program called Weapon X, a military unit composed of aspiring mutants or people with the possibility of becoming mutants (a la moi!). I had cancer and they promised the experiments would cure it using this healing factor gene they had acquired from some other mutant, I forget his name. I was the 11th test subject and the only one who the healing graft actually worked on. Unfortunately, my healing factor more or less spazzed out and now I’m permanently scarred, nigh immortal and kinda insane. So they locked me up in their crazy house called the Hospice, I started dating Death (had to break it off, she was a little too clingy), broke out and then started my destined career as the World’s Greatest Mercenary!
No birth, medical, school or even juvenile delinquency records of a person named Wade William Wilson exist before the 1st recorded appearance in Montreal, Canada at the age of 22 in a local hospital. He staggered into the A. & E. complaining of nausea, insomnia and physical debilitation. The doctors surmised that the patient had been suffering with Acute myelogenous leukemia (AML) for over 2 years. They were astounded that the young man could be fighting off the cancer for this long and still be functioning cognitively, due to the insomnia. It was a fight Wade was losing, however, both physically and mentally. He had become extremely irrational, erratic; from his blood tests, he had mere months to live. That is where Weapon X stepped in.
As the U.S. was never big on sharing military secrets, the Weapon X program was developed to attempt to copy and match the U.S. Super Soldier program developed in WW2 by using emerging mutants to build a covert/assault team capable of handling multiple situations. Only 2 Original mutants signed up for the program: -name removed- (Codename: -name removed-: Psychic abilities; see attached file) and –name removed- (Codename: -name removed-: Healing factor; see attached file for further experiments).
It was discovered by scientists working with Weapon X that there were 2 versions of the mutant X gene; the active version present in –name removed- and –name removed- and an inactive version, devoid of any changes to the host. Weapon X had begun scouring hospitals for potential volunteers. This version, deemed I-X, was found to be in Wilson’s genome. Weapon X approached Wilson with a proposition: He accepts membership into the program and we cure his cancer. He instantly agreed.
The results of the graft were mixed. The healing ability measured by our tests surpasses that even the original donor’s natural gift. His limbs could be reattached and in one case, even grew back of its own accord, by a process of -snipped for medical jargon-. However, the mixing of his I-X gene and cancer produced some negative effects appearance wise and he has taken to wearing a mask with his operations outfit. Also, as the cancer has somehow bonded with the grafted X gene, Wilson has been informed that while he will not die from the leukaemia, he will never be cured of it, as the healing will produce too many new cells and will literally explode.
It has also come to the program’s attention that Wilson has become increasingly “unstable” mentally. This may be a result of the combination of the physical scaring, the false promise of a cure and the prior insomnia symptoms. The other subjects have taken to calling him “Deadpool” as the feel he may wash out of the program at any point and has even began calling himself this. It is recommended that –snipped for irrelevance-
Deadpool has so far been successful in training missions and marksmanship training with both Original subjects respectively. It is recommended that if he be cleared for duty, he be assigned to Alpha Team.
Powers and Abilities:
1. Regenerative Healing Factor: The mutant healing factor was grafted to my genes and has given me the ability to regenerate damaged or destroyed bodily tissue with far greater speed and efficiency than an ordinary human. Mine’s a lot cooler as it’s more powerful than usual, due to the cancer, so I can regrow missing limbs and even survive decapitation! Cool Huh?!
1a. Telepathic Immunity: Since my cells are in a constant state of flux, I’m apparently immune to telepathy and mind control. Kinda handy.
2. Superhuman Speed/Agility/Reflexes: The healing factor keeps my muscles in peak condition, allowing me to hop around faster than a jackrabbit on cocaine. 3. Martial Arts Master: Wolverine. Captain America. Mister Miyagi. Me. What do we all have in common? We can all kick ass, that’s what! 4. Medium Awareness: Hey! You! Yeah, you, Denonus! You think I don’t know I’m in some geeky online RPG? You know who I am?! I am the Breaker of Fourth Walls! 5. Equipment: Boy oh boy, do I have some “equipment”! Eh! eh?! Ah, forget it. Let’s see. I’ve got my teleportation belt, though I busted it recently and can only go a short distance, couple hundred feet. I’ve got my katanas (got 1 from playing Halo 3, very strange gift to get from a videogame). I’ve got a pair of ACP .45 semi-auto laser-dot equipped doorknobs*, and finally my magical satchel full of ammo and other stuff. Kinda like a woman’s handbag, it’s endless. *Handguns
Weaknesses:
1. Deformed: The healing factor also accelerated my cancer resulting in me looking like Sarah Jessica Parker. 2. The Cancer: My healing factor was designed to replace cells as fast as they were being destroyed. If my cancer is ever cured, I’ll keep reproducing new cells regardless and will become one of many obese Americans before exploding. Eww. 3. Mental state: Apparently, I’m “difficult to work with due to my instability.” Pffft, bunch of pussies, you kneecap 1 guy for a chimichunga and you’re “unstable”.
Why do I want to play this character?: Why? WHY?! Who doesn’t want to play me? Merc with a Mouth, ladies’ man, soon-to-be film blockbuster, videogame star and Crimson Comedian. I’ve got a lot to bring to the table and as soon as I figure out what those things are, I’ll get back to you……..
What do I plan on doing with the character: Meh, whatever I feel like at the time. Maybe I’ll kill every character in the Universe again, maybe I’ll buy you all takeout. I do have a few scores to settle however……
Sample post: The wall exploded, chunks of concrete flying across the room, dust clogging the air and a figure crashing into the opposite wall, hitting it with a bone crushing thud. He stirred, groaning in pain “Hey! Only I’m the only one allowed break walls around here.” Deadpool clawed his way to standing position, feeling his bones reset instantly, shooting pain running up his arms and legs. “Alright big guy, let’s try this again.” The wall burst out again, a huge figure stepping through, his skin a deep, raw red, eyes yellow and only a pair of shorts to cover……..well whatever was down there.
“I thought I told you to stay out of this Wilson!” The Red Hulks voice shook the air, his muscles pulsing as he stepped closer to Deadpool’s crouched body, “I’ll be dealing with you last, after I terminate the rest of your X-Force friends.”
“Rulky, Rulky, Rulky, friends is such a strong word. I’d think of them more as comrades, associates, people who get in the way of bullets for me, I mean where else can yo……Gargh!”
Red Hulk wrapped his mammoth hand around Deadpool’s neck and lifted the merc to his eye level. “Shut up Wilson! Now tell me, where Domino is?!”
“You know, red is a good colour on you. Not as nearly as good as on me, but still good.”
“Don’t make me squeeze any harder Wilson.” Red Hulk’s grip tightened, Deadpool’s eyes surely bulging beneath his mask.
“OK, OK, she’s………she’s……….” Deadpool gurgled and gargled his words.
“Where?!” Red Hulk practically spat the word in his face.
“She’s hot.” Deadpool pulled out his ACP .45 and blasted Red Hulk right between his eyes. It wouldn’t even make a dent in Red Hulk, but at this range, it would certainly make him blink. He roared and released Deadpool, shielding his eyes and rubbing them furiously. Meanwhile Deapool kicked off the red beast’s chest, parried off the wall and vaulted over him.
“Tag, you’re it!”
He landed on the crushed floor behind him and dashed through the hole. “Later Red! This guy’s got a date! But not with Domino. Totally not Domino!”
“WILSON!!” Red Hulk bellowed out, his voice shaking the very walls that were left standing, his vision still slightly blurred as he twirled, swinging wildly and growling in violent anger. When he finally came to a halt, there were only 3 sounds he could hear. The sound of his own laboured breathing, Wilson’s distant laughter and an ominous beeping coming from behind him. He turned but saw nothing. The beeping was still behind him. He rounded again. Nothing. He realised that the beeping was him. On his back. And it was getting faster. “Tag……”
The explosion rocked the building. Those thermite mines Deadpool had picked up packed an absolute whollop and would certainly slow Red down. “What a waste of a good explosive. I was planning on putting that in Taskmaster’s birthday cake!”
Outside an X-Force safehouse in Tokyo
Deadpool slunk along the roof top as stealthily as he could. It didn’t help, however, that he was humming a generic sneaking tune with every move. He reached the vent into the building and slowly pulled off the grate.
*Now, to find Domino.*
“Hey! Where the hell have you been? I missed you, intangible thought bubbles!”
*Do you think now is the best time to reminisce?*
“……..We are so getting tacos together after this. Or Chimichungas!”
*I can believe I’m saying this, but focus!
…and we totally are getting tacos.*
Then Deadpool felt the familiar nudge of a gun barrel at the back of his head.
“Wade, tell me what you’re doing here or I pull the trigger.” Domino’s sly, silky voice somehow swapped between sexy and intimidating at the same time. “Dom, baby, you know you can’t kill me, even if you wanted to! You don’t want to, right? Right?”
“Oh, I know I can’t. But I know it still hurts like hell……..”
*Awh crap.*
“You said it.”
Do I know how to post a picture? Of course I……wait……wait, is this it? Did I do it?
Alrighty, so I'll be throwing up my other 2 CSs sometime tomorrow/Saturday. One will be an unnamed villain and the other will be Deadpool, because I love writing Deadpool. So far, TM hasn't really been doing it for my writing wise but I think that's because I haven't gotten to the emotional/depth storylines yet.
Location Forrest Hills Hospital, Queens, New York City
Position 1st Floor, Admissions and Reception
Time 1213 hrs 10th March 2012
It was mid-day in the hospital and the day staff were overwhelmed. On top of the normal hustle of visitors and in-patients, a large influx of patients from an incident in Glendale had every nurse, consultant and doctor rushing from post to post. None of the EMTs that were on site would discuss what they’d seen but the rumours had started and they were saying that it was a mutant. An exploding mutant. Linda Carter shook her head. Whatever next?
“Excuse me, nurse? Could you point me somewhere?”
Looking up, eyes bleary from her 18 straight hours, Linda saw a tall, dark brown haired man, rimmed glasses adorning his hazelnut eyes, a white coat wrapped around his impressive frame and stethoscope draped around his neck. In his hand, he held a patients chart. He was smiling down at Linda. She smiled politely back.
“I’m sorry, doctor, I’m kinda swamped here, isn’t there anyone else you…?”
The doctor raised his hand, “It’ll only take a moment, please? I’m looking for a…” He consulted his chart, “…a Mr Isaiah Bradley?”
Linda sighed, turning to the computer and tapped away at the keys, bring up the patients’ medical files.
“It says here Mr Bradley is in Room 11 on the 2nd Floor in Patient Care. But he’s being treated for Alzheimer’s, shouldn’t you…?”
She turned back to find the doctor gone. She scowled and returned to shifting through the A&E admissions. New doctors always underestimated nurses, especially the ones laied over from the night shift.
Isaiah Bradley was propped up in his bed, the private room darkened except for the blueish glow of the cheap TV stuffed in the corner of the room, left on some generic local news channel. The pretty, young reporter was mouthing soundlessly towards Isaiah, a pillar of smoke rising behind her. Her location was Glendale.
The door of his room opened and a large man in a doctor’s coat entered, reaching up to pull off his rimmed glasses, tossing them on the small roller table over Isaiah’s bed. Masters pulled the low chair across towards his bed, settling in softly and smiling at the now frail old man.
“Hello Isaiah, how are you?”
Isaiah’s head turned to face the soft voice, his eyes glazed over, looking right through Tony. Masters knew about Isaiah’s history, a young black soldier who was a patient to experiments of rehashes of the Super Soldier Serum, just after the murder of Dr Joseph Reinstein. He was one of the few survivors and currently the only surviving member of his platoon. It was his experiments that lead SHIELD to Masters’ current state.
“Isaiah, have you seen Eli lately? Do you know where he is?” Isaiah was Eli’s grandfather and his sole guardian. He was responsible for Eli getting accepted into SHIELD and, in turn, when Isaiah began to deteriorate, Eli set him up in the Forrest Hills. When Masters mentioned Eli, his eye’s sharpened slightly, staring right into Master’s eyes.
“Eli, is he alright? Is it the Red Skull? I knew it! I knew he shouldn’t go alone!”
Isaiah tried to get out of the bed, reaching towards Masters hurriedly. Tony gripped his shoulders gently but tightly and laid the feeble, old man back in his bed.
“It’s not the Skull Isaiah, we just can’t find Eli. Do you know where he’d be?”
The old soldier’s eyes glazed over again.
“Oh Eli… He’s such a good boy. Always loved coming with me to the lake…”
Masters sighed, settling back into the chair, rubbing his face. The 3 rogues had a week’s head start on him and, from SHIELD’s psychoanalysis records; Patriot was the weak link in the group. He was the one of the public face “heroes” of SHIELD; he was the more morally centred type, he would be the easiest to crack to find the other two, assuming they had done the smart thing and separated. He was also the green-horn of the group, with USAgent and Union both being black op veterans, meaning Patriot would be the simplest to track down. So far, however, the youth was proving extremely difficult to locate. Masters had thought Isaiah might provide some insight. It seems he was mistaken. As he got up to leave, he absent-mindedly listened to Isaiah’s muddled ramblings.
“The long summers we spent there, in the cabin, just sitting on the lakeside, fishing for hours. Eli loved that cabin…”
Masters paused, his hand on the knob as he had a crazy thought. Maybe this trip wasn’t an entire waste. He turned back to Isaiah, a friendly smile on his face to keep Isaiah calm.
“Isaiah, tell me more about the lake….”
I should have my 3rd post up by sometime tomorrow. I really like where the opening arc is going, got plenty of ideas and mini-scenes, just finding the time to get them all down.
Speaking of stuff I like, I figured since Deadpool hasn't been taken up by that other guy, once I have the 3rd post up, I'd stick up my sheet for him and my villain character. I think I'd be able to handle 3 characters at this stage, plus I'd be much better at writing Deadpool. A little more my style. :)
