nitemare shape

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Character you have created: Alice Rackham

Alias: Captain Ally “Black Bonnet” Rackham

Speech Color: Not determined yet.

Character Alignment: WTL (She's not overtly evil, anyway)
Identity: Glorying in infamy!

Character Personality: Alice is, in almost every way, larger than life, and loves living to the fullest and in the moment. When she's not off raiding, she enjoys tinkering with anything and everything near by, especially at her workshop. She enjoys both modern and classical music, tending to swing between ballroom waltzes and heavy metal when the mood strikes her. She is utterly fearless, and enjoys hardship and difficult adversaries, sensing adventure in the opportunity.

Alice treats her crew like a bunch of favoured nephews and nieces, and insists that, while not infringing on their freedoms outside of shipboard duty, that they stay healthy. "Just because we're pirates doesn't mean we have to act like we're in the Seventeenth Century, you jackanapes," as she has been recorded saying. She believes fiercely in freedom, well and beyond what modern democracies espouse and hewing much closer to general anarchy, though onboard the Revenge, she maintains absolute authority, even if she doesn't exercise it unless she has to. That said, traitors and mutineers are dealt with harshly. And while she is okay with kidnapping, the slave trade is a thorn in her side, and any other modern pirates who try to take slaves in her territory risk being summarily executed. It is this "freelance privateering", added to the fact that much of her raiding is done to military and/or foreign targets, that has led to a sudden lack of resources to fight her in local governments in the Caribbean.

She, unfortunately, also suffering from bipolar disorder, and from what psychologists will say, some form of severe psychosis and delusional behaviour. While not true entirely, she is very much ungrounded from reality much of the time, as evidenced by her career alone. Thankfully, despite her isolation as a captain, necessarily separated emotionally from her crew, her 'delusions' keep her company and give her guidance. She considers herself a sort of priestess, as well as a protector, of the ocean, and will viciously punish those who abuse the sea.

Uniform/costume: Alice wears full pirate captain regalia, with a wide brimmed hat clipped up on the right side and several long black-dyed peacock feathers running off the black fabric. Her coat is bloody red, hangs down to her thighs, and she wears black pants under it, tucked into the classic knee-high fold-over boots. Her torso is crossed over by two bandoleers carrying custom-made flintlock pistols, and a wide leather belt carries two more pairs of those and her pair of cutlasses. She wears her hair in a loose cloud under her hat, though on occasion she will, in a nod to Blackbeard, braid it down and tie slow-burn fuses into it.

Origin Info/Details: Alice was born into a well-to-do middle class family in Galveston, Texas. The eldest of three children, she grew up knowing very little of her family history, until in high school she was required to read Treasure Island for a book report. She was utterly enraptured by the pirating lifestyle, and swiftly became obsessed. She researched tirelessly, and when she came across the stories of “Calico Jack” Rackham, and noticed the similar surname, she began digging into her own family history, where she made a surprising discovery.

Not only was she directly descended from Rackham and Anne Bonny's child, but several other bloodlines had tied into hers over the last several centuries. Through exhaustive digging through records that had long been buried, she found that she was also the descendant of some of the most illustrious pirates who ever lived. Evidence became solid for her family ties to Edward “Blackbeard” Teach, Bartholomew Roberts, Jean Lafitte, Captain William Kidd, James Avery, Sir Henry Morgan, “Black” Sam Bellamy, and John Taylor. The sheer unlikelihood of this union of trees seemed impossible, but she managed to confirm it multiple times through responsible sources. Her high school project for her senior history class was this entire documentation.

Just before she graduated, her parents managed to win a lottery prize at a whopping three hundred and eighty-five million dollars. Immediately after her graduation, the entire family, inspired by her findings, decided to move to a private residence just outside Nassau, in the Caribbean. This was, however, unfortunate. During a family outing that Alice herself was unable to attend due to illness, the family was kidnapped and killed. Legends about her state this, along with her fever, is was caused her to snap, and become Black Bonnet.

Alice was always a bright child, but following her inheritance, she made massive leaps forward as she feverishly studied mechanical engineering and materials science, ostensibly for college, but she soon figured out that she didn't even need to attend. She managed to actually test out of her entire Bachelor's of Applied Science, and then disappeared for quite some time. The only evidence she was still alive was a steady draining of the interests on her fortune, carefully managed by a hired advisor.

Almost three years to the day of her family's murder, her ship set sail out of Tortuga, raiding and pillaging. She only took volunteer crew, but as it turned out there were many in the Caribbean who were romanced by the idea and grandeur of her ship and by the thought of escaping poverty and the rule of law. Now, Black Bonnet Rackham sails throughout the Caribbean, sowing terror and taking plunder wherever she wishes, seemingly completely unfazed by the multiple attempts of multinational navies to try and bring her in or sink her, and basking in the adoration of those who see her career as a sort of 'reality escape', living a dream most thought long dead: the free pirate.

Hero Type: Grey Matter and (maybe) Supernatural/Mystic

Power Level: Street(on land), world(at sea)

Powers:

The Tortuga's Revenge, her pride and love: The Revenge is designed like the old ships of the line, a two hundred foot long, three masted battleship with two gun decks of twenty-five-a-side and more armaments on the main deck. The whole of it is made of teak, in classic style, though the masts, main deck, hull, and keel are all also impregnated with a special hardening compound of Alice's design that makes them impervious to all but the very largest of naval guns, and even then she takes minimal damage. The material is also lined with a magnesium-foam compounds that reduces her necessary weight by tons The sails and rigging, as well, are made of Dyneema- and asbestos-woven fabric, so as to be tough and fireproof. Other modifications are as follows:

• Swivel guns: These are small, rail mounted cannons on the rear and fore decks, capable of rotating to cover about a one hundred degree arc. Paired on the sides of each deck, for eight in total, these little bastards carry a surprising wallop, modified as they are to fire a variety of modern and older ammunition, from HEAT rounds to grapeshot, and require no powder. They can also be switched out for miniguns, as the need arises.
• Deck mortars: A set of twin mortar cannons sit on the rear deck, and are comparable to modern gun howitzers, though they can angle to almost seventy degrees when necessary. These fire 120mm shells of varying loads.
• Main Cannons: The terror of the modern high seas. Aesthetically made to look like Golden Age of Sail ship guns, these heavy guns are actually several different types of modified artillery pieces. The lowest deck has a set of rail cannons, GA Blitzers, which are capable of firing a sabot round at Mach 5. The second deck has larger versions of the deck mortars, essentially howitzers, which fire anything from HE shells up to tactical nuclear shells, though Alice would never authorise such an ammunition(it ruins the booty). The main deck guns, which are only rolled out on special occasions, are the most unique of the Revenge's arsenal. These are actually smaller than the swivels, though not by much, but they do not fire conventional ammunition. Experimental shells filled with cryo-explosives, Dragon's breath shot, ionizing rods that will generate lightning bolts, and gas rounds that can knock out a whole cruise ship in a few minutes; these are reserved for the main deck guns.
• Torpedo Tubes: Four on the bow of the ship.

Aside from the armaments, the Revenge also has other wonders, such as a hydrofoil generator/engine combo below the waterline, capable of powering the whole of the ship and pushing her max speed up to 40 knots(46mph/74kph). The engine consumes no fuel itself, an important feature to Alice. The quarters for all the crew resemble modern barracks rooms, though far more comfortable and home-y as they have decorated. The galley resembles that of a modern cruise ship, though it maintains the aesthetic for the furniture, all dark teak and cast iron. She also, of course, has modern medical facilities, and a brig capable of holding even minor metahumans. As a special touch, Alice has managed to procure a device that renders the Revenge invisible to thermal imaging, sonar, and satellite tracking, essentially a ghost ship in the modern age.

Super Inventor – Aside from the ship itself, Alice has numerous other creations to her credit.

Nanoweave Fibre: Alice's clothes, and all the ropes and sails of the Tortuga's Revenge, are made from her own custom blend of Dyneema and nano-weave carbon/asbestos fibre, rendering them almost completely immune to cuts, tears, punctures, and fire. Her entire crew is outfitted in the same. This special weave, while extremely durable, bends and folds as easily as cotton.
Mono-line Blades: Alice's cutlasses are sharp on their own, and made out of a special alloy that is nigh-unbreakable, but their true strength lies in the microedge they have, narrowing down to almost a single molecule wide, rendering them capable of cutting through almost every conceivable material. The crew carry knives of the same edging, allowing them to maintain the ship despite it's toughness.
The Pistols: While the eight pistols on her seem to be flintlocks, and even look that way when firing, this is purely aesthetic, much like the rest of her possessions. The actually contain tiny electro-magnetic catapults, and fire her pistol shot at super sonic velocities. The shot itself is similar to her basic cannon shot for the ship, rounded cones of tungsten-carbide, capable of penetrating most standard body armour with little difficulty.
Gripping Boots: The soles of her boots are enhanced to grip onto any surface through a combination of magnetism and molecular bonding hairs and pads, inspired by geckos and other climbing animals.

The Workshop: This is a sprawling, 12,000 square foot complex in a hidden cove on the island of Tortuga, the entrance to which is disguised as a blank rock through the use of a hologram projection. This dock hold all the materials for repair the Revenge, manufacturing the specialty ammunition, housing the crew, and dumping booty from raids.

Madness, or...: The legends that have already cropped up around Black Bonnet Rackham commonly say that her parents death cracked her brain so badly that she's completely mad. To be certain, her crew regularly hears and sees her talking with things that they cannot perceive. But that may not be all there is to this tale, either.
According to Alice herself, her ship and home regularly host eight spirits, whom she can name and describe fairly well. Those who have heard these names and descriptions assume she did research some time in her past, and her broken mind has conjured them to help her stay somewhat balanced. But sailors are a superstitious lot, and many have begun to believe that maybe, just maybe, she really can see gods. After all, all sorts of other strange things have happened in the world, why not this?
The 'deities' who Alice hosts are:

• Calypso, the piratical goddess of the sea (who hates her representation in un-named movies as some sort of lovesick mortal). She claims the title of 'chief' deity, and tend to treat Alice like a daughter.
• Namaka, a fierce and domineering Hawaiian lady, with water pooling at her feet.
• Takehaya Susanoo-no-Mikoto, a Japanese man who occasionally shows up with his wife, and always during storms.
• Sedna, a large Inuit woman missing her fingers.
• Ægir and Rán, a huge giant and his mermaid goddess wife, who always appear together and love showing up to parties.
• Samudra, an Indian woman who is temperamental, but typically calm when boarding with Alice.
• Agwé, a black man who is always grinning at her, and refers to himself as her King, unless the Calypso is around.
• Chalciuhtlicue, a gorgeous Aztec woman who is always holding a babe on each hip, one boy and one girl.

Alice refers to these spirits as her friends, often in familiar terms, and sometimes even rudely. She especially likes cursing at them during storms, though she reports that this really only makes them laugh. Even those people who claim to be able to see or otherwise interact with spirits and other supernatural beings deny seeing them near her, though she replies to these denunciations by proclaiming them “not worth the Sea's time”. It remains to be seen whether she is mad or some sort of priestess.

Skills: (Because these really don't count as powers

Navigation, Captaincy, and Seamanship: Alice seems to have an inborn knack for all things relating to piloting a ship. She can read the waves and avoid even the worst swells, can smell a storm before it's even visible on the horizon, can plot courses that shave hours off her travel time, knows every single inch of her ship from bow to stern, and can even read her crew's mood before they know it themselves. She is a commanding presence wherever she goes

Linguistics: Alice can fluently speak Haitian French, Creole, Spanish, and English

Combat: Alice has taught herself, through instructional videos, practise, and sparring, all forms of pirate combat; Cutlass and pistol, knife, boarding pike, artillery combat, naval tactics, acrobatics, nad most modern naval small arms combat.

Engineering: Alice has a dual BAS in Mechanical Engineering and Physics, with all the skills that entails, though her genius adds considerably to this.

Attributes:

Height: 6'1”
Weight: 180 lbs
Strength Level: Above average, but not by much
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: John Woo film hero level(about twice normal human)
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 3 hours, because she's used to the hardships of the sea.
Agility: Above Average, but still human
Intelligence: Very genius
Fighting Skill: Experienced/Trained

Resources: Extreme; aside from her inherited fortune (most of which was dumped into the ship), she has her financial advisor managing stocks, bonds, and several Cayman and Swiss bank accounts. These are cunningly manipulated so that international authorities can't freeze them. And there's plunder, as well.

Weaknesses: Aside from her armoured clothing, she is a normal human being, and can be killed or wounded as easily as any other.

She is, even if not quite as mad as some fear, extremely delusional, and any attempt to bring her back to modern sensibilities is doomed to failure.

Following with her delusions, Alice has a flashpan temper when it comes to her ship, or her crew, and is fiercely protective of both.

She has a severe peanut allergy.

Pirate Information:

Insignia: Alice's flag is black, with white crossed cutlasses. A white skull looks to the side in profile, at a speared heart dripping blood into a cup.

Code: Alice's Code is as follows:

• I: The Captain shall receive three shares of any retrieved value. The Quartermaster and Doctor shall each receive two shares. The Cook shall receive one and one half share. All regular crew shall receive one share. Provisional Crew shall receive one half share.
• II: No crew member shall engage in any form of slavery. If a crew member of any rank should so engage, The Captain shall deem a fitting punishment.
• III: Any crew member, having been assured the availability of willing mates, who is found to have engaged in rape, shall be keelhauled.
• IV: Any crew member who is found to have aided in the capture or death of any of their Brethren, shall be tied to the mast and left to the depredations of those Brethren who remain.
• V: All complaints, no matter how small, will be listened to. Those crew members who cannot find a satisfactory solution to their complaint shall be put ashore at the nearest safe port and sworn to secrecy on pain of death.
• VI: No crew member shall engage in any activity which may divide the crew. Friendly boxing and gambling is allowed, but all complaints against the results must be settled fairly by an Officer.
• VII: Those who deem fit to poison the ocean with things other than what belong in it shall be given to the next storm.

Supporting Characters (Does your character have a significant other? A mother? Friend? Who are they, what do they have to do with your character?):
While her family may be dead, there are multitudes of people who interact with Alice on a daily basis, even aside from her Gods.

NPCs

• Liam Evans, her accountant, who works out of Grand Cayman and calls her whenever he needs a decision about her accounts made.
• Mister Ribbons, a flamboyant man who serves as her quartermaster on the Revenge
• James Kirk MD, who regrets his name but doesn't wish to change it. The Revenge's Doctor.
• Dominique Briggs, the overbearing ship's cook
• Admiral Brian Haliway, the Naval officer of Her Majesty's Navy who heads the task force attempting to rid the Caribbean of Black Bonnet Rackham
• The Kraken, that mysterious creature of legend, who some have reported as following the Revenge, though to what purpose remains unclear.

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:

Other: I will make NPC sheets for the spirits when and if the story makes it seem necessary.

@Indy Cooper

Approved

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

@fdeviant @ShyDot @Hellis Hey, I need your opinions specifically, but I'd appreciate anyone's really. I feel like this sheet is lacking in either history, abilities or weaknesses. I'd appreciate if you guys have any suggestions. Thanks in advance! <3

Charlene Croll - The Alchemyst

Real Name: Charlene Croll. Char, Charlie.

Alias: The Alchemyst

Speech Color: Honeydew

Character Alignment: Walking the Line - Leaning Hero. Chaotic Good.

[8tracks: Dream to Ignite]
[Spotify: Dream to Ignite]

Identity: Secret

Character Personality:

Charlene Croll has a deep and rich family history rooted in studying alchemy for hundreds of years. Her family focused largely on alchemy and alchemy alone, as a result is naive to other magical practices. The talent and magic potential lingers heavily in her family’s blood, granting them the ability to transmute the world around them. With the weight of carrying on family tradition on her shoulders, Charlene hardly acts the part. Her focus is on the present, forging her own path and discoveries. Takes immense amounts of pride in her abilities and her family, but struggles with identifying herself for the current generation.

Streetwise, smart, fast talker. Problem solver.

Incredibly observant, great spacial awareness and great sense of direction. As an urban scavenger, her versatility relies heavily on these abilities. Generally a sociable person when she has time, especially now that she has completed her master’s. Holds a close circle of friends, gets along well enough with her peers within the chemistry department at LHU, Lost Haven University. Charlene prioritizes her family above all else, above school and above herself.

Appearance

Appearance:
Charlene dresses in layers, old clothes, and uses a mask to cover her mouth and nose. Protecting her identity and protecting herself from old molds, dust and other dangerous airborne contaminants found in dilapidated areas. Wears a pair of goggles for the same reasons. Safety first!

She wears a long hooded sweater, old shirt and skirt with leggings. On her feet are beat up pair of running shoes, alternatively also wears steel toed boots. Often covered in a thin layer of dirt or dust.

Images

Age: 24
Hair: Long dirty blonde hair
Eyes: Green
Height: 6’1” - 183 cm
Weight: 155 lbs

Slim face, bright green eyes with a splash of freckles across her nose. Charlene has strong arms and legs, years training under her mother’s heavy staff. Urban exploration has lent well to keeping her active and lithe. Quick to solve a problem and just as quick to swing her staff under your feet.

Her Face

Origin/History

Origin/History:

Charlene Croll was born in Lost Haven to a long line of Crolls, a very proud and long standing family of alchemists. Born with magic in her veins, a knack for understanding the building blocks of the world around her.

Her mother, Julianne Croll married Keith Lancaster - Keith hailing from a family of enchanters, accustomed to the strange and arcane. When their circles intermingled, a whirlwind romance swept away the pair, as Nathaniel often refers to when Julianne met Keith. They married young, had children young and unfortunately for Julianne, Charlene and Harriet, Keith died young as well. Charlene attended her father’s funeral at age 9. Keith died when he was caught in debris, property damage collateral from metahumans fighting in the city.

Nathaniel, Julianne’s father, had lost his wife some years before they were married and helped raise Charlene and Harriet when Keith passed. Together Julianne and Nathaniel ran the knick knack and repair shop - Croll Corner. Teaching Charlene and eventually Harriet the biggest trade secret they had, Alchemy.

The little family did well enough for themselves, struggling when Lost Haven population became saturated with metahumans, followed thereafter with events like D-Day rocking the city. Riots in the streets by local gangs, cosmic horrors waltzing down mainstreet. The events had insurance premiums hit a record breaking high. But still they carried on, relatively alright save for Croll Corner, being looted during the riots. Julianne and Charlene were able to fend off the attackers but not before they stole the cash register. Nathaniel and Julianne vehement about keeping Harriet and Charlene well away from metahumans and all the problems that came with it.

Julianne taught Charlene and eventually Harriet when she was old enough, self defense and how to fight with staves. While Nathaniel and Julianne focused on their alchemy education, kept them distracted from the city and it’s rampant problems in crime and gang activity. Charlene picked and started crafting her Magnum Opus staff at 11, deciding on sycamore wood.

The Magnum Opus Staff is a family tradition, built around passing on knowledge to the next generation. The staves not only representative of the alchemist’s life but their preferred tool. The staff’s properties are added to, changed and modified throughout their lives. As they grow older the more thought and time is put into modifying it to strike a balance with the previous modifications made. Some Croll’s only add to it when they discover a new equation or make strides in their research while others choose to mark important life events upon their staff. The staves are individual as their wielders, often passing the staff onto the next generation to use.

For school, Charlene studied her way through high school and eventually attending Lost Haven University, she worked part time in the shop and other places to pay for her education with only minimal government assistance. Graduated recently, as of June..

Charlene remembers her father well, looks after her kid sister while making a few extra bucks from scavenging. In spite of having good reason to keep to her own business, Charlene wants to join the fray if not only to protect her family from another big disaster like Hounds of Humanity, but to mark herself apart of something larger. Her pride as a Croll Alchemist would hardly allow for anything else.

Hero Type:
Mystic

Power Level:
Street Level

Powers/Skills:
Transmutation: An alchemist's bread and butter, able to focus the magic within her to change the form of things around her. For more complex changes she scribbles out the alchemical equation upon the item but for simpler things like removing water from alcohol she can do so without the help of a formula. As a skill it comes as naturally to her as it is to breathe. Excessive transmutation takes it’s toll on her mind in a similar way pulling an all nighter would. She begins to lose focus, much more likely to make a mistake. A good night sleep and a break helps to bring her focus back.

I.e Transmuting a state of an element from solid, liquid, and gas. Pulling and isolating certain elements, like oxygen or hydrogen from water. Adding certain elements to an object to change it’s form, forcing oxygen into iron graters to rust. Changing the shape of a wooden crate to stakes.

It takes time for Charlene to write alchemical equations to breakdown the base elements of what she is transmuting. While with simpler things like separating elements in water, she can do off the top of her head easily.

Fighting Skills: Trained by her mother, Charlene is quite proficient with a staff in her hands. Non-lethal fighting style.

Master’s Degree in Chemistry: Charlene has earned her master’s degree at Lost Haven University.

Scavenging: A good eye for searching an area for valuable components, tearing apart old computers, tvs, cars, quick to pick clean an area for valuable scrap before moving on.

Minor Herb/Medicinal Knowledge: Charlene maintains minor understanding and recognition of medicinal herbs, due largely to her grandfather’s expertise. Can recognize certain herbs and plants, use them for rustic applications.

Strength Level: Normal Human
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Trained - 2 hrs.
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Above Average - Formally educated
Fighting Skill: Trained - Fighting Staff and Self Defense

Resources: Average - holds down a part time job as a lab assistant at the University, helps run family’s shop - Croll Corner. Makes modest cash off of her scavenging materials.

Equipment:
Sycamore Magnum Opus Staff: Made of sycamore, weighted with soft metals worked into the grain like tin, copper, and gold. Able to use the metals in the staff to change the shape, most often to that of a crowbar.

Magnum Opus Staff

Items found on her person/in small backpack:
Lithium batteries
Cat litter
Aerosol hairspray
Lighter
Flint and steel
Steel flask of whiskey
Water Bottle - Gasoline
A ceramic knife
Little packets of salt
Plyers
A packet of styrofoam

Weaknesses:

Human Constraints: Vulnerable to exposure, a bullet, a nasty fall, a hard hit around the head. Human through and through. Slightly above average pain tolerance, can withstand a hit. Otherwise, easy enough to hurt or stop.

Human Endurance: While her endurance is above average, when Charlene loses focus she begins to grow sluggish of body and mind. Much more likely to mess up an equation or miscalculate an element in transmutation. Which can result in some rather ugly results.

Supporting Characters:
Father (Deceased at 28)- Keith Croll (Changed name when he married Julianne)
Mother (Age 42) - Julianne Croll - Jules
Younger Sister (Age 15)- Harriet Croll - Harry
Grandfather & Mentor (Age 68) - Nathaniel Croll

Friends: Carrie Ludwig (Witch) & Yvonne Thompson (Urban Scavenger)

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:

@DearTrickster

Approved

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

You're always behind lol.

Speaking of which, post(s) coming tomorrow

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Posts coming soon

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

New York, New York
Later that night…

“She went that way!” one of the men who had been chasing her cried out.

Bobbi Jay had been minding hanging out with her friends near Bow Bridge in Central Park when the men arrived. At first, she thought it was the police stopping to give them a hard time like they always did at this time of night. Officer Bates had been an especially insufferable prick as of late, and it was just like him to rush up on them with the four wheeler on which he had recently been using to patrol the park. However, she soon realized that it wasn’t just one four wheeler that was approaching, but several. When the vehicles came to a stop before them, Bobbi counted four of the four wheelers. However, these were odd vehicles, slightly elongated with enough room to carry at least two men each.

As the men disembarked the vehicles, she noticed that they were not in fact, police. The men were adorned in head to toe black body armor, and the man who seemingly took the lead was holding some sort of device that looked somewhat like an EMF detector, the meter that electricians use to find electromagnetic fields. The men wasted no time, they rushed toward Bobbi and her group of friends with guns drawn.
She ran before she heard the first gunshot.

As she ran, her body began to change. Her bones and muscles twisted and reformed, her body was soon covered in a thick red fur, and she began to take on a decidedly more canine appearance. When she had first turned, the metamorphosis was excruciating. However, after over a decade of changes, it has become like second nature to her. Although it still was a painful experience, it no longer slowed her down.
She bounded across the park and made her way out into the city at 74th Street. With her keen senses, she knew that the men were close behind her. As she raced down an alleyway away from the street, she thought that she had escaped, but suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her hind quarters. From that point, she found it difficult to continue running. Her legs became heavy and her breath labored. Finally, she came to a stop in the middle of the dirty alley. Much to her surprise, when she looked down at her very human leg, she found a large needle of some sort sticking out of her thigh.

Some kind of tranquilizer… she thought to herself, whatever the concoction was made it impossible for her to maintain her wolf form, and she found herself laying naked in the grimy alley unable to move, waiting for her pursuers to finally catch up to her.
She did not have long to wait. Moments after she came to rest in the middle of the alley, the sounds of heavy boots striking the pavement rang in her ears, and she became well aware that they had surrounded her.

“Well, isn’t this a shame?” One of the men said as he stood over her. He then raised his pistol for her to see and leveled it at her. “These here,” he said indicating the bullets that were loaded into the gun’s chamber, “were made especially for your kind.” He finished before firing two shots straight into her skull.

***

Derby Street, Salem, MA

Christian May was a bit of a local celebrity. He owned several businesses in the Salem area, among them a “magic shop” called Casters, which was full of novelties like crystal wands and herbs, “spells” for everything from love and wealth to protection. His good friend Lorna set up shop in the corner of the store and read tarot cards for the tourists who flooded the downtown area each October. During the housing crisis, he and Lorna went around with local news crews “blessing” houses which had been foreclosed upon in order to prevent negative forces from afflicting the new homeowners once they had taken over the properties. On Halloween, May led a Wicca prayer circle. The spectacle involved a number of local witches leading tourists in a prayer ritual all while trying to be loud enough to drown out the evangelical idiots who walked around the circle with bullhorns and signs condemning the entire lot to the eternal torment of hellfire and brimstone.
His antics and perpetual self aggrandizing eventually paid off, as he was named “The Official Warlock of Salem” The recognition that came with that distinction was a boon for business. Casters saw traffic to the store more than quadruple within six months. In fact, he was so successful that he was able to buy his biggest rival’s store, Raven Feathers right out from under her. However, more importantly he was able to realize his dream and open a bar called The Black Mirror, which catered to real witches and warlocks, and others who were involved in the dark arts.

On any given night, you could find Christian behind the bar serving the best libations in the city to a number of his faithful regulars, along with any tourist who thought that they had merely entered an establishment that was keeping with a theme that had proven profitable. While it was true that Christian was motivated by money more than anything else, it was also true that The Black Mirror and her regulars gave him a sense of purpose that he had never felt before in his entire life.

“Away from the harvest the seasons have turned, the nights have grown colder and fires we’ve burned…” Christian sang the old Wicca hymn, which he always enjoyed because of the fact that it shared its tune with the Christmas carol Away in a Manger, which always seemed to rile up the crazy Christians who overheard his joyful renditions of the song. As he sang, the doors of The Black Mirror blew open and several armed men in black body armor rushed into the bar, immediately firing on the bar’s patrons. Then, the gunfire stopped as suddenly as it started.

Christian sat cradling himself on the floor behind the bar, unable to breathe, unable to think. He had never been more afraid of anything in his life. After a few moments of quiet, Christian slowly brought himself to his feet, and immediately wished that he hadn’t. As he looked around the bar, he saw that nobody had survived the onslaught. Not even Peter, his best regular, and husband had been spared. Then he looked over to the culprits. About a dozen men all in black body armor with their weapons trained on him, yet they didn’t open fire. Instead they stood around a thirteenth man, who in stark contrast wore white armor and a mask in the fashion of the Death’s Head.
The man in white raised his hand palm forward, and all Christian could see was a blinding white light as he was sent crashing into the rows of liquor behind him. Before he could react, a powerful pair of hands grabbed him and pulled him up onto the bar top. No sooner had he come crashing down on the surface, sending what glasses and mugs remained scattering all over the floor, than the man in white pierced his portly stomach with a nine inch blade.

“Who…who are you?” Christian weakly cried as he gazed into his attacker’s masked eyes.

“I’m the Revelator. And this is your end.” He said as he pulled out a small device, the very same type of device that had been used to burn Pixy Stix just hours prior. Then he turned away from the bar and motioned for his men to take their leave. As The Revelator left The Black Mirror, her could hear Christian May’s screams as his body was engulfed in flame.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

working on some stuff

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

I promised a big event. I believe that I just delivered. :D

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Los Angeles, California 7:01PM Western Time

Club Morte had long been a popular attraction among the Gothic lifestylers and those looking for a bit of excitement by stepping outside of their comfort zone. Located just a few blocks off of Sunset Boulevard, the club had been a haven for those looking for something a little bit different. Unknown to the majority of the club’s patrons, much less the tourists who on occasion passed through the front doors, Club Morte was not just your average alternative lifestyle club. While the club itself had a cheap, right off the rack of Hot Topic type of feel to it, something much more sinister was at work within the walls of the club.

For years, the local police department looked the other way whenever the occasional junky disappeared soon after leaving the club, or even vanish from within the club itself. Some within the department were aware of the true nature of the club, and because of that they allowed things to run their course without police intervention. The fact was, Club Morte was run by mobsters or gangs, but something much, much worse. Vampires had first moved into the area at the height of Prohibition in the 1920’s, and taking advantage of the state’s glamour seekers offered the best spirits that money could buy. And buy they did. People showed up to the original location, which was simply known as Stardust in droves. Stardust was an elegant establishment, a perfect reflection of that era’s Hollywood. Over the years, the club had evolved into whatever it needed to be in order to serve its purpose, and while entertainment was always important, the club’s main focus was to provide its owners with a steady source of food.

On this night, the club was at capacity. The club pulsed with the electric beats that the deejay was producing from his rig. The heat level within the club was rising as bodies swayed and grinded against one another with the beats of the music; the strobe lights gave the place an entirely otherworldly feel. The vampiric element within the club surveyed the dance floor, looking prime candidates to be their next meal. Suddenly, the front doors burst open and about a half dozen men in black tactical suits rushed into the club, seemingly opening fire indiscriminately. The staff of the club, which was made up almost exclusively of vampires rushed toward the intruders, only to be met with a hail of gunfire. However, as soon as the first vampire was struck, it was clear that these intruders were not using just any ammunition, evidenced by the fact that once the bullet pierced his heart, the vampire began to writhe in pain as she began to combust from the inside. Within a matter of seconds, all that remained of the vampire was a pile of dust that marked where she had taken her last breath. The scene repeated itself over and over as the vampires within the club fell one after another in short order.

However, the slaughter did not end when the last vampire had fallen. Soon, the attackers turned their sights on the club patrons and opened fire. The majority of the victims simply fell to the ground when they were shot, though several others combusted from the inside and left nothing but a pile of ash where their bodies should have been. The attackers hit the club with a tactical precision that one would expect to see out of a military special ops unit. The assault was fast and hard, and was over almost as suddenly as it began. When the gunfire stopped, the attackers left a pile of corpses and ash strewn about the club, and the only clue left about who they were, or what they wanted were three solitary letters spray painted in black across the top of the bar.
H-O-H

Little Ulster, Lost Haven Maine 10:01PM Eastern Time

For the woman known only as Styx, it has been a long year. After first arriving in Lost Haven and opening a portal to a demonic dimension and unleashing that realm’s inhabitants upon the city, an event that the locals have taken to calling D-Day, she has found it in her best interest to remain out of the public eye. She hadn’t thought that anyone had seen what she had done, but several months after the incident she had begun receiving threatening letters. So she had gone into hiding completely off the grid. She had been forced, quite literally underground. She had spent her days toiling in the sewers beneath the city. She had memorized every nook and cranny of the world below the city that most of the residents of Lost Haven were completely unaware even existed below their feet. It had been a miserable existence for the demon, who had survived by feeding on rats and insects, as well as the occasional scraps of rotting food that she had been able to liberate from dumpsters on the rare occasions that she had risked going above ground.

Living below the streets sucked, there was no way around that. But she was still breathing, and as unpleasant as that could be while living in the sewers, she was still alive. Or at least that’s what she told herself on a daily basis. That was her life, at least until recently when she began to get the sinking feeling that she was no longer alone in the subterranean hell that she had made for herself. It was true that from time to time she would cross paths with someone from above ground. She would see the occasional homeless person who found that the warmth that the underground provided was better than freezing to death up above. She would even see the occasional criminal who was using the tunnels beneath the city streets to move about undetected. Though it didn’t happen very often, she was accustomed to that. But this was different. She could feel that somebody was down there with her, watching her. Even though she tried to convince herself that she was being paranoid, it made her uneasy.

Up until this moment, she had almost been able to convince herself that she had in fact been paranoid. However, that debate was quickly and undeniably settled when she saw three men in black body armor coming toward her with guns drawn. She had been in a secluded section of the sewer which was secluded and cozy, with just a small corridor that led to a ladder and a manhole cover. The three men seemed to know exactly where she would be, and when. It was that moment that she knew that she had been right all along, someone had been watching her. She darted down the back corridor and nimbly jumped to the ladder, where she raced to the top and expertly forced the manhole cover open and pushed her way through it, up and out into the brisk night air.

“Sorry, so sorry…but no, no, no, no. You…you aren’t going to get me that eas--!” she was cut off mid sentence as a section of barbed wire was placed across her throat and yanked hard backward. The pain of the barbs piercing the soft flesh of her neck was unlike anything she had ever felt before and she almost blacked out from the shock, but somehow, she managed to stay awake.

In her rush to escape the threat below, she failed to notice the threat that awaited her above the surface. Several more of the black clad men were laying in wait just out of view in the alley in which she had emerged. Once the first man had secured her with the barbed wire noose, the men dragged her out of the alley to their waiting trucks. However, the men did not throw her into one of the vehicles. Instead, they bound her arms and legs with more barbed wire. Once she was secured in the wire, they each tied one end of the wire to the bumper of their trucks. Once she was tightly secured, they each began to drive away in different directions, pulling her completely apart in the process. However, the men did not travel far. In fact, they only pulled forward a dozen or so feet in any direction. Once Styx had been eliminated, the removed the barbed wire tethers from their bumpers and left what remained of her in a neat pile on the sidewalk where anyone who happened by would find her remains. However, they didn’t leave until one of the men carved the letters “H-O-H” into her forehead.

Las Vegas, Nevada 7:01PM Western Time

Pixy Stix was a relatively new hot spot in Las Vegas. Located just off of the main Strip, the patrons who frequented and tourists alike were always guaranteed a good time. Unlike other establishments of its ilk, the Fae that ran Pixy Stix were neither shy nor did they conceal who, or more importantly, what they were. In fact, they included it in their marketing. Most people thought that it was nothing more than a clever gimmick to stand out in a city of clever gimmicks. But the fact remained, that within the walls of Pixy Stix, nothing was off limits, and nothing was too taboo. In fact, if you were one of the lucky VIP’s, or even if one of the girls, or guys for that matter took a fancy to you, you could end up in the back room, which had been nicknamed “Eden,” which was more or less a thinly veiled brothel where you could live out your wildest fantasies with some of the most desirable creatures from all of mythology…as long as your credit card cleared, that is.

To the patrons who visited Pixy Stix, a night there was much akin to spending an evening with the fabled Lotus Eaters, time just seemed to pass by ever so slowly, and with each passing moment, you were less and less inclined to leave. However, unlike the Lotus Eaters, the Fae who resided at Pixy Stix did not need to keep you under a mystical thrall to keep you there; you wanted to stay all on your own accord. Once inside Pixy Stix, you were surrounded by beautiful people wearing very little, and in some cases, nothing at all and an abundance of the very best booze from all around the world, as well as several “secret brews” that unbeknownst to anyone but the Fae, were not of this world at all.

To the Fae, as well as those in the know, Pixy Stix was more than a raucous nightclub. It was a sanctuary. It was a place that Fae, humans, meta humans, and all variety of supernatural creatures alike could go without worrying about being judged. This was a place where no body had to worry about petty rivalries and violence. Pixy Stix was a place of fun and peace. It was a place where the promise of entertainment and sex were more important than the need for conflict. From the moment you walked through the front doors, you were among friends. These were friends who didn’t care about the things that you may have done in the past, or might do in the future. Everyone was welcome at Pixy Stix, and everyone got along.

That was until a dozen men in black body armor kicked in the door and began opening fire. The men stormed the club, not just with guns, but hunting knives and what looked like machetes. However, they were not just any blades, these were forged from wrought iron. The men went about Pixy Stix, slaughtering everyone in their path, not just Fae and other supernatural beings, but humans as well. There was no rhyme or reason to the attack, there was just unrelenting, indiscriminate killing. When they had finished, there was not a single being, human, meta human, or Fae left alive inside the walls of Pixy Stix. They had even found the secret entrance into Eden, and slaughtered anyone there as well. Once the assault was over, and the attackers were satisfied that everyone was dead, the leader of the raid pulled out a small spherical device about the size of a ping pong ball from his utility belt and pressed a button on the top of it, which caused the device to glow red. After ordering his men out of the club, he threw the device among the carnage just before he took his leave of the club himself. Moments later, Pixy Stix exploded in a torrent on flame and wind that eradicated everything inside.

The men did not leave until they had left a message scorched into the street in front of what had until tonight, been Pixy Stix. They had poured gasoline into the street, and when they lit a match and tossed it into the gas, the letters H-O-H could be seen from the heavens.

STRIKE Headquarters, Washington DC, 10:01PM Eastern Time

Alexander Anderson stood around the vast computer arrays that were housed in the Situation Room of STRIKE Headquarters. He and his top advisors were focused on one screen in particular. Neither Anderson nor his advisors knew what to make of the anomaly that had been tracking, and neither did the few within the scientific community that they had brought in to analyze it. They only thing they knew was that they knew absolutely nothing.

“Director, it seems that the anomaly is-” the man was interrupted by one of the men monitoring one of the other many computer screens.

“Sir! We have multiple att-” the technician never finished his sentence as the console in front of him, as well as the rest of arrays exploded at once, sending glass, bodies and other debris flying in every direction.
The explosion had been so big, that it punched a hole in the titanium reinforced outer wall of the complex, killing untold dozens of men and women within the headquarters of STRIKE. The only fortunate thing about the explosion was that it occurred late at night when the vast majority of agents and general employees were at home with their families. However, as the rescue crews made their way down to the epicenter of the blast, it was clear that nobody could have possibly survived such an explosion. Agent Marcus Ryder, had been outside when the explosion rocked the nation’s capital, the blast’s concussion had been so powerful that it threw him a dozen or so yards from where he had been standing.

“My God…” was all that he could muster when he looked up and saw the utter devastation that had befallen STRIKE Headquarters. Agent Ryder, who had served in the same military unit with Director Anderson in their younger years, and who had maintained a close relationship with him, rushed toward the inferno that had been his base of operations.

He ran into the building and made his way down to the Situation Room, where he knew Anderson had been holding a briefing with some of his advisors. As he raced through the halls, he was amazed by how quickly the response teams had sprung into action. As he got closer to the Situation Room, he was nearly overcome by the noxious fumes of the black smoke that billowed through the halls. As he reached the room, visibility was very limited, but from what he could see, he knew that the situation was bad. The heavy steel doors that led into the Situation Room had been blown clean off of the hinges. Ryder rushed blindly into the room, hoping against hope for a miracle.

“Alex! Alex!” he cried out to his friend. However, he was greeted with silence. It was in this moment, that he knew nothing would ever be the same again.

***

All across the country people settled in for the night. Some chose to watch the evening news, or old Friends reruns. Some people chose to spend the night binge watching their favorite shows on Netflix or Hulu. However, none were expecting what they were about to view. Instead of their program of choice, they found themselves gazing at a figure surrounded in shadow, much like what you might expect to see when a show like 60 Minutes is interviewing a mob witness. As the man spoke, it was through a voice modulator that made the message all the more sinister.

“People of America, we find ourselves at the precipice. For far too long, our elected leaders and those who have been put into place to protect us from the threats that we face have failed to act. Instead, they have sat idly by and watched as freaks in capes, mages and monsters have taken the security of this world into their own hands. For the most part, the people have accepted the rule of gods amongst us, at the detriment of humankind.” The man in shadows said before pausing to allow his words to find their mark.

“But let me ask you, how long? How long before these so call saviors decide that playing hero is not enough? How long before they turn their powers against us?” The man asked, again pausing for effect.

“We cannot sit by and wait for these beings to decide that it is time that rushing to our aid and solving our problems is no longer prudent. We cannot wait for them to decide that it is us, the human race, that is the problem. And we can no longer wait for institutions that have been put into place to protect us from such a cataclysm to follow their charter and do what must be done. So we have taken it upon ourselves to take the necessary steps to protect all of humanity from the threat of the meta humans and all of their ilk. Tonight, we have completed multiple, simultaneous operations against known threats. We have also eliminated the organization known as STRIKE, for their failure to act against hostile forces. We will no longer tolerate the meta human threat to our world, nor those who support them. We will continue to act, until all meta humans, as well as those who provide material aid or support for their kind, are wiped from the face of the Earth.” The man paused as he leaned toward the camera, however, even as he moved closer to the camera, his face remained obscured in shadow.

“Inaction is no longer acceptable. We are the last line of defense against these monsters, and we will not rest until every last one of them is eradicated. We are here, we are everywhere. We are the…”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

The night had gone about as well as Scott had expected. They all ate in a relative, awkward silence as Janice tried to make conversation, which Jonathan masterfully avoided. Whenever Jonathan did participate in the conversation, it only served to point out how woefully inadequate he found Scott to be not only in just about every facet of life, but especially as a partner for his baby girl. In fact, it had been so brutally unbearable that Alexa almost abruptly ended the dinner with her parents on several occasions. However, as much as she wanted end the whole affair and spare Scott any more torment from the unrelenting passive aggressive assault of her father, she didn’t. Instead she tried to make the evening as smooth as possible by changing the topic whenever her father’s attitude warranted it.

Mercifully, after just over two excruciating hours, dinner was over. Scott had hoped that once the bill was paid, he and Alexa would be free to take their leave of her parents and salvage the rest of the night together. He had hoped for a nice quiet night at home, either her apartment or his, which one wasn’t relevant, relaxing on the couch watching some Netflix or anything for that matter, just as long as they were together. However, fate had other plans. Instead of finally going their separate ways after dinner, Janice proved to be a true sadist and suggested a night cap at Alexa’s apartment. What was worse, they had decided to walk the three blocks from AnGio to her place, which left Scott with no chance to avoid further conversation.

The night went from bad to worse when Jonathan suggested that the ladies walk ahead so that he and Scott could “bond.” As the two ladies moved further ahead of them, a tight knot developed in his chest as he had an unsettling feeling about what was surely to come. Thus far in his relationship with Alexa, any and all interactions with her parents, particularly her father, were about as pleasant as a colonoscopy, and here he was, walking side by side with the man who had been the bane of his existence since they had been introduced.

“You know Scott, I really do think that you’ve got me all wrong.” Jonathan said almost out of the blue.

Here we go… Scott thought to himself as he looked into the windows of an upscale women’s clothing store as they walked past it.

“I know you think I don’t like you, and while I don’t approve of you dating my daughter, I don’t dislike you.” He said in an almost friendly manner.

“You certainly seem to go out of your way to show me otherwise.” Scott countered.

“The thing is, for me to dislike you would mean that you matter. And I want to be crystal clear, you don’t.” Jonathan told him.

Scott was about to respond, but was completely taken aback by the older man’s statement that the words just wouldn’t come. A thousand things came to mind that he wanted to say, but for Alexa’s sake, he didn’t. Instead, he walked along silently wishing that Umbraxis would suddenly show up and attack the city again.

“Look Scott, you seem like a nice kid. You seem to have your head on your shoulders. You’ve got that little club of yours, and it allows you to…do whatever else it is you do in your spare time.” Jonathan said with a sideways glance and a smirk. “But you just aren’t what she needs. You can’t support Alexa, and you can’t protect her.”

“To be perfectly honest Jonathan, Alexa doesn’t need to be taken care of. And she sure as hell doesn’t need anybody’s protection.” Scott started. “I may not make the kind of money that your family does, but I would never, ever let anything happen to Alexa, and if she needed it, I would give her every penny I had.”

“That’s nice to hear. It’s inconsequential, but still nice. The fact of the matter is, I don’t trust you. You aren’t good enough for my little girl, but for some strange reason she chose you. Scott, you make my daughter happy, and to me that’s the most important thing. So let me be crystal on this…if you hurt her, if anything happens to her while you two are together…I will make your life a living hell. Your club, your apartment, hell…your mother’s home…everything that has ever meant anything to you, will be mine. I will erase you with the snap of my fingers and I’ll sleep like a baby while doing it. Because that little girl is my whole world, and I will destroy anybody that causes her any pain.” Jonathan said, his tone indicating to Scott that it wasn’t just an idle threat, but that the older man meant every word.

“You don’t have anything to worry about. I’d never do anything to hurt her.” Scott told him.

“I know that you believe that, but I’ve been around, Kid, and I just don’t see this lasting.” This was the last thing that Jonathan or Scott said for the remainder of the short walk back to Alexa’s apartment. With each step, Scott wished that he could just take off and get away from this miserable human being, but again for Alexa’s sake, he stuck his chin out and endured for the rest of the night.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Zoe and Silas are both approved