Retired

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

You know what? Fuck it.

GA Sheet

| Identity |

Oliver Queen/The Green Arrow

| Origin & Backstory |

Playboy Oliver Queen lived a vapid life of pleasure-seeking, never having any aspirations besides the next thrill. The day it all changed was the day he arrived on the island. After being marooned on a remote isle in the South Pacific, Ollie was forced to survive by his wits alone. He soon discovered the island was a hub for heroin production, the native populace being used as slaves. Calling on his past archery skill, Ollie crafted a homemade bow and arrows and drove the criminals from the island, being rescued in the process. Finally motivated, Ollie took up the mantle of the masked archer and became the Green Arrow, protector of Star City.

Today, Oliver works for Star City in two realms. The first is as Green Arrow, the second is as that of City Councilman and philanthropist. Having sold his controlling stake in Queen Industries years ago, Oliver and his son Connor Hawke operate the Papp Street Mission, a non-profit shelter for the homeless of Star City. Ollie successfully ran for city council and now sits on the eight-man governing body for the city.

| Attributes |

Just a man with a bow and trick arrows.

| Character Notes |

NPCs:

Connor Hawke: Ollie's son, also known as Green Arrow
Sergeant John Diggle: Star City PD patrolman, Green Arrow's ally on the police force.
Jimmy Fitzroy: Star City Mayor
Jerry Conklin: President of the city council, leader of the council's conservative faction
Barry Calhoun: Ollie's fellow liberal councilman
Shawna Sanchez: KSTV News reporter

| Character Goals |

I want to tell a political story. Ollie won't really be fighting many costumed bad guys. He'll be tackling men in suits who think they run the world. He'll be doing as much fighting in committee meetings as he'll be doing on the street.

| Sample Post |

The Octopus

"If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich."
-- John F. Kennedy

City Hall
Star City, CA

The thick, wooden doors leading into the city council chamber burst open and out rushed Oliver Queen. He wore a black suit three-piece suit with a white shirt and an emerald tie, his usual council meeting attire. Ollie kept his hands in his pocket as he stalked through the halls back towards his office.

"Councilman Queen!"

A small gaggle of reporters chased after him down the corridor. He stopped and turned around. There were a few newspaper men, the lady from Channel 6 with a camera hoisted on her shoulder, and a radio reporter with a handheld voice recorder. Ollie brushed his lapels and took a deep breath as they swooped in on him.

One of the newspaper men spoke first. "We saw you leaving the chamber in a huff. You don't agree with the majority decision."

"Considering I voted against it, Mike, that'd be a no." He winked at the reporter before flashing a grin. "Regular Bob Woodward you are."

A titter went through the group. Now that he had made them laugh, Ollie went on the offensive.

"This franchise tax was one of my key promises when I ran for office, guys. Of course I'm going to be a little sore when I get voted down by short-sighted people who are just worried about reelection. This tax was a step towards the big companies that are slowly working their hooks into Star City"

"Critics of the tax argue that it's a pay to play scenario designed to drown out smaller competitors," the TV lady said.

Ollie thrust a finger forward. "No, it's a tax on the companies who are already making a hefty profit on our city. They big companies have done a fine job drowning out the smaller competitors on their own. They don't need our help."

The radio reporter said, "What do you say to Councilman Conklin's arguments that those companies are responsible for the stability in Star City?"

"They were an asset in a time of peril," said Ollie. "But the time of crisis has passed. We must let regulation and government lead the way. Conklin might be against that seeing as how he was selected as El Dorado Power & Water's Man of the Year this year. The franchise tax would help shift the balance of power back to the government, as will keeping the SCPD away from Thornguard."

The TV reporter asked, "Thornguard Security's work in other towns shows that in six months alone it can be more effective than the Star City PD has ever been. They even promise a drop off in Green Arrow sightings."

Ollie shook his head. "The towns they've worked in before aren't Star City. They're smaller and more affluent and less ethnically diverse. It's easy to police Mayberry. Comparing Thornguard's work in those towns against SCPD statistics is unfair. And to answer your Green Arrow question, with the brutality and excessive violence complaints Thornguard has gotten over the years, I'm sure Green Arrow has already been added to their payroll."

Another laugh from the reporters gave Ollie a chance to wrap up the questions.

"If we allow Thornguard to take over emergency services, then there will be four companies that are dangerously close to running the day to day affairs of this city. We have to scale back their control and influence and make sure its the voice of the people, not the voice of profit margins, are in control of our local government. That's all for now, folks. Thanks."

He held his hands up and backed away from the reporters before turning around and heading up two flights to his office on the third floor. The small space wasn't much to look at it, barely larger than a cubicle and with no window. It was identical to all the council offices. All eight city councilors shared office space on the third floor as well as Doris, a collective secretary. The job was only part-time anyway. Ollie never hung around the place much if there was no need for it, he preferred to be at the mission or on the streets.

Sitting down behind his desk, Ollie kicked his feet up and looked at the wall. Everyone called it his conspiracy board, but it helped him keep track of things. He had the names of all three major companies and what they did for Star City listed with interconnecting lines running between the companies where their duties may overlap. There was:

Hephaestus: Building and road construction
El Dorado Power & Water: Utilities
California Transportation Trust: Mass transit

It was a libertarian's wet dream, a city where private companies provided the lion's share of services with minimal oversight by the municipal government. In theory, the government would get the best services for the cheapest cost. The great business experiment they had called it three years ago when the city council approved it. But so far the great experiment wasn't panning out. The city went with the three companies because they were the only ones who ever placed bids. Anybody who did place a bid ended up pulling out suddenly and one of the other three got the job. The shady nature of the whole affair is why he got back into politics and ran for the city council. So far he was the only person on the council trying to raise awareness. He knew most of the city council and Mayor Fitzroy were getting some sort of support from the companies, but he couldn't prove it.

The overlap between the three companies made it a tangled mess. CTT supplied Hephaestus with the heavy machinery it needed, El Dorado got the power trucks. Hephaestus maintained the roads and rails CTT's buses and trains operated on. And now Thornguard was getting thrown into the mix. Its bids for emergency service was low as anything possible for a privatized police, fire, and paramedic force. Odds on the cars would come from CTT and their facilities would be maintained by Hephaestus. If the Thornguard bill was approved, the four companies would begin to settle over the city like a net and tighten until everyone was so used to their work and rates of pay nobody would argue. And that was when the prices would increase. That's how monopolies worked. Once the octopus got its tentacles in, it flexed them and strangled the life out of its prey. Ollie knew it was wrong on the surface, but something in his gut told him it went deeper. This combination, as shady as it was, had something darker lurking beneath the surface.

He rubbed his head and sighed. Ollie had a plan, more like the makings of a plan, but it was being blocked by the mayor and the rest of the city council. He was just one man against nine others, seven plus the mayor. He'd be checked and outvoted every time. He stood and headed out of his office before the rest of the councilmen got back from the meeting. The powers that be were blocking him, but they sure as hell hadn't counted on the Green Arrow looking into the matter.

@Byrd Man

I give this a D+

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

So I think I'll go back to my street level roots the next go around. Probably Green Arrow.

@Byrd Man

Seems like a good idea. No one worthwhile ever picks up GA, anyway.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Nothing is stopping you from continuing as your character come the new season, though.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

I believe it's been said that there will be a new thread.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Mike liking his own posts under alt accounts. What a scrub.
What kind of narcissist would do something like that?

Rogue Continuum [CLOSED PENDING REBOOT]

Alright. Needless to say, things did not go quite according to plan this go around. Several months after launch, with numerous replacements in the cast, and things have still yet to depart the introduction scene. With another player having to drop recently, it is time to make a decision I have tried to postpone for months. At this point in time, continuing to try and patch the holes by swapping out members every other week will not work to fix the root issues and so I will be closing the RP.

However, I and the two players who have been with me since the beginning, @Bounce and @ComradeMaxx, are not quite ready to give up on the story of Rogue Continuum entirely.

We will be taking a hiatus of a couple of months, both to give time for IRL responsibilities as well as allow me to readdress some issues, and then Rogue Continuum will be returning. A mostly fresh start with a new thread and new, initial recruitment drive. I aim to run this revitalization more smoothly and efficiently, and my criteria for recruitment will, I think, change for the better.

For any of you who have silently been following along, I hope to see you once the reboot goes up.
Or, I've been talking to myself this entire time, which is cool, too.

_{Either way, Epstein didn't kill himself.}

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Supergirl, TMNT, Powerpuff Girls.

Convince me you aren't a clone of Mike...

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

<Snipped quote by Hillan>

So clearly I'm doing a great job of GMing.

@HenryJonesJr

Can't do worse than the last guy...

Rogue Continuum [CLOSED PENDING REBOOT]

Alright, people, let's do this one last time.

Another two months, another post discussing the slow start. However, I am confident this time that things have been smoothed over and the RP can progress as I had originally intended. With my latest post, I have kicked off the catalyst event that will launch the characters into the grander narrative. And, with any luck, this will come with a consistent round of posting from here on out, bar IRL breaks and vacations.

So, for any of you who still have any interest in following along, you should expect about four posts a month, roughly, if all goes well. One from each of us.

And, yes, I said four. Sadly, we lost GreenGrenade before he could ever really join in. Real-life, unfortunately, caught up. We all know how that goes. I would have loved to see what he would have brought to the game.

That being said, I do think that the players who have been able to remain make up a strong cast. And we are all dedicated to making this work and last. None of us intend to let this die out. Especially not before it has truly begun.

As of now, I'm going to keep the roster at a reduced four. Myself, Inkarnate, Bounce, and Comrademaxx. This is to make sure there are no more delays in advancing the story and to make sure we can develop a cohesive unit before introducing yet another player. Down the line, as the narrative continues, there will be opportunities for new players and characters to join us, and I fully intend to accept at least one other cast member at some point. I already have some ideas of story beats where a new character could be woven into the story seamlessly. When that time gets closer I'll make an announcement and perhaps even open up applications again temporarily.

For now, though, I'm just focusing on making sure things go smoothly from here on out.

I hope you all enjoy the ride.

Rogue Continuum [CLOSED PENDING REBOOT]

The march down the featureless, silver-white hallways was no different now than any time before. Flanked by two of the guards, identical in both uniform and face, M'gann M'orzz shuffled forward toward the newest Hell she knew to be just around the corner. It was the same every day now; awake to the monotone orders of the guards, receive a meager meal composed of an unidentified substance, then immediately be escorted out of her cell and further into the building where he would be waiting. The martian prisoner had repeated this process so often she had long since lost track.

When she had first arrived, M'gann had attempted to keep a mental note of the passing time. It was easy for the first two weeks as she had little else to occupy her thoughts while relegated to her modest confinements. Then, the torture had begun. Not that they seemed to treat it as such. As much as she could gather, her captors were studying her, experimenting and testing the limits of both her physiology and mind. Their techniques, though, were far from considerate. M'gann had faced some of the most terrifying intergalactic threats known to the universe, she had been exposed to numerous powerful energies and even faced the tyrant Mongul in single combat during which she had been momentarily torn in half. Yet the 'experimentation' she underwent here had been so unbearable she had felt tendrils of crippling pain seize her for days afterward.

What followed that had only made tracking the passing days more difficult. The death games. Forced gladiatorial combat for the sadistic pleasure of her captor and countless other reprehensible individuals. Not only were the events themselves exhausting, painful, and often traumatizing, but M'gann would be sedated both immediately before and following the challenges. She would always come to in her cell afterward but with the chamber completely devoid of any external light source or viewport of any kind it had been impossible to determine exactly how long she would remain unconscious for each time.

The first several matches had come days apart which allowed her to at least have a general sense of the passing weeks. But the more she competed, the more she won, the more the faceless audience hungered for more carnage, the shorter the intervals became. Where once she had only fought a few times over several weeks, M'gann was now subjected to the games on what she assumed to be a daily basis. And while time was often a blur for her, the enslaved gladiator knew exactly how many times she had been made to battle for her life.

For the fifty-ninth time, M'gann M'orzz was ushered into the familiar waiting room. For the fifty-ninth time, she was greeted by the cold, calculating eyes of the slender Major Domo. The man's creased face turned towards the device he held and a narrow finger swiped across its screen. M'gann knew by now that this meant he was confirming her arrival. Major Domo glanced up almost immediately after and fixed his sharp gaze at her. Another short swipe across the screen.

M'gann's eyes narrowed. This was new. Major Domo would only ever swipe once before beginning his typical monologue, then send her off to be prepared for the upcoming battle.

She became aware of the presence of another a moment before their small form shuffled into her peripheral view. The thick, grey collar secured around their neck immediately informed her that this was a fellow slave. The first she had ever encountered during her captivity, though she had always been sure there must be more. M'gann shot a look back towards Major Domo, wondering what this meant. Were they to be paired together in the matches, forced to survive together as a team? She felt her chest tighten as she considered the other possibility.

Turning back to the small figure, she tried to look them over without seeming too interested. They wore the same all-white jumpsuit she had on. The relatively pink skin and shaggy, oily, dark hair reminded her all too much of her time on Earth. A human, and a young one at that given they barely came up to her chest. A boy as far as she could tell, though they held their gaze towards the floor making it difficult to know for certain. M'gann shifted her position slowly as to not alarm the guards she knew to still be present, and subtly leaned forward to get a better look.

Yes, she thought, as the human child's features became more visible. Definitely a boy. The patchy sections of fuzz clinging to his cheeks and lightly coating his upper lip told her as much. And there was something more, something familiar. M'gann leaned forward further, disrupting any illusion of disinterest as her curiosity got the better of her. This was, after all, the first thing she had encountered in this forsaken place that reminded her of home. That was likely even from her adopted world. After all, if she had been abducted from Earth what was there to stop them from doing the same to others.

M'gann abruptly stiffened, her mouth going slack. It couldn't be...

The boy's face had come into clear view now. A face she had first seen over a decade ago, not long after she had first settled down on Earth.

"Toro?" A voice softly called out. She hadn't meant to speak and didn't even realize she had until after the metallic ring around her neck glowed red and sent a minor shock through her body. The only warning she would receive to remain silent and well-behaved. But at that moment the boy had looked up at her and she was sure now.

Tomás Raymond. Toro to his friends. Sunfire to the people of Earth. He was a hero and ally to M'gann, a fellow member of the Justice League. They had fought side-by-side on several missions and Toro had even saved her life once. She would recognize him anywhere, and yet...

The Toro she stared at in wonder now was younger. Much younger. Even when they had first met, Toro had been a young man in his early twenties. By the time she had been captured he should have been celebrating his thirty-fifth birthday. Not barely pushing his teenage years. And the eyes that had looked up into hers just a moment ago had been confused, unsure. Not of someone recognizing a friend. Still, the boy's resemblance to Toro was unmistakable.

She wanted to speak up more as a hundred questions floated through her mind, but the numbness from the previous shock reminded her to hold her tongue.

Could Toro have had a child? She dismissed that idea almost immediately. Although it had been several years since she had last seen him it would not have been long enough for him to have raised a fully grown child. Unless...

M'gann's chest tightened once more and she ground her teeth in frustration. She doubted she could have misjudged the length of her captivity to such a dramatic degree but maybe the flow of time here was not the same as on Earth. She knew of certain dimensions where such things were possible. Perhaps this was one.

She returned her attention to Major Domo who stood nearly unmoving. The fact that he had still not begun his expected speech made M'gann think there were still more competitors to arrive. Something that only made her more concerned that her suspicions for what was to happen next would come to pass.

It took five minutes for the next captive to arrive. Then two more individuals were brought in, one after the other. Each seemed to grow wary as they realized they weren't alone. And each, M'gann noticed, were distinctly human.

First, there had been an older man. Tall and with head held high, he strode into the room with an air of daring. M'gann wondered if he had only recently been imprisoned and had yet to face the atrocities, if he was refusing to give his captors the satisfaction of breaking him, or if the man was a psychopath. All seemed possible.

Next, there had been another man, similarly tall, whose wildly unkempt beard suggested a somewhat lengthy stay. He appeared to be somewhere in his thirties, though the dark circles under his eyes easily could have added another decade. This one immediately took stock of his surroundings upon entering the room, unconcerned about feigning disinterest as M'gann had done. She noticed the younger man tense when he laid eyes on the older one, hands curled into fists briefly before relaxing. He seemed to know the confident one in a way that hinted at a less-than-amicable past.

Finally, a young woman with long, light purple hair was ushered in. She, too, instantly appeared to recognize the older of the two men. But whereas the previous detainee's rage had been barely contained, the girl merely seemed surprised. Or anxious, M'gann thought, watching as the woman crossed her arms impatiently.

Then, Major Domo stepped forward.

"Welcome, gladiators." He said through thin lips. As was the case every time M'gann heard him speak, he kept his voice level and concise.

"You have each received the highest honor, having been selected on this day to compete for the glory of our lord Mojo. Moments from now you will be greeted by the cheers of your adoring fans eager to watch you perform in grand combat."

'Adoring' was not the word M'gann would have chosen. 'Bloodthirsty' more like. 'Sickening' or 'disturbing,' perhaps.

She glanced across at the four other collared slaves. From their reactions, it seemed they had all heard this same spiel from Mojo Domo before, as had she. It was changed slightly to accommodate the increase in contestants but for the most part, it was word-for-word the same speech she had listened to fifty-eight times already. M'gann waited, knowing it wasn't until after the mindless praise for this slavemaster called Mojo that the real information would be given. Until then it was as if he was reading off of a prepared script.

As expected, after several minutes, Major Domo paused and swiped his finger across the screen of his device once more.

"As you have all no doubt noticed," he continued, "this competition will be unlike all others previously encountered. For this event, you will be pitted against one another in a winner-take-all extravaganza."

He stopped briefly to cast a glance over the five of them, gauging their reactions. M'gann did her best to remain neutral, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her crestfallen as her suspicions proved true.

"Some of you have been chosen because of your great feats in previous competition or due to appeal amongst the audience. Others," Major Domo cast a glance at the dark-haired boy, "are merely fodder to enhance the entertainment value. Regardless, you will each be given a fair starting chance. How well you perform afterward is entirely on you.

"Failure to participate will result in immediate termination. Mojo would prefer each of you to succumb to one another but do not be mistaken, should you refuse to compete against your fellows you will be destroyed excruciatingly and spectacularly. At most, only one of you will survive. Possibly none. I suggest you all put your best effort forward and eliminate the others with brutal efficiency should you not wish to perish."

His eyes narrowed at the five gladiator slaves before him. "Do not disappoint the audience nor your master."

With that, he tapped the screen and a familiar hum filled the room. M'gann turned expectantly towards the left wall. It split vertically down the center, the two sides parting to reveal an adjoining room. The group shuffled toward it, knowing this meant they were now allowed to move. Inside, suspended in mid-air, were various colorful outfits and pieces of armor. In one corner sat a large, mechanical suit that the older man approached. The others were already shedding the outer layers of their stark white prison uniforms and M'gann joined them.

As she had learned before her very first deathmatch, all competitors were to dress in costume. According to Major Domo it 'enhances the enjoyment of the spectators.' As far as M'gann was concerned, it was just another facet of control their captors held over them. They were even given the illusion of choice with an extensive variety of getups.

For M'gann, none of it mattered. Her martian physiology allowed her to change her appearance at will, including giving herself any outfit she desired. Once the inhibitor collars were removed, that was. For now, she merely shed her prison clothes and waited. If the process for this battle royale was the same for all of her previous solo matches, as soon as everyone was suited up they would be rendered unconscious only to reawake in the arena sans collar. And that was where the real chaos would begin.

When she only had herself to worry about, M'gann had been able to focus on only one goal: survival. And while they may have been exhausting and often demoralizing, the deathmatches had rarely caused her true concern. The assorted scenarios she had been put in, the myriad of manufactured foes thrown her way, none of it had given her pause for thought. It had been simple. Fight. Destroy. Rinse repeat. She could go all out as needed against the robots, hard-light projections, and traps. They were highly dangerous, of course, but none of it was 'real.' The only real factor had been her. But now...

M'gann cast a glance at the young boy. She still hadn't decided if she believed he was Toro's son or not, but regardless of his relation to the man she knew and owed her life to, he was still a child. And if Major Domo's insinuation was true, cannon fodder for her and the others to eliminate with ease. She knew she couldn't bring herself to harm the boy but she couldn't say the same for the other three.

She watched carefully as one-by-one her fellow slaves dressed in their chosen garb. The woman strapped a set of crystal-looking armor across her body as the younger of the two men finished sliding into a skin-tight red and blue outfit. He kept eyeing the older male who by now had stepped inside the humanoid suit of metal which she now could see sported a large, shoulder-mounted ballistic weapon. She didn't know the capabilities of the others, but this one, she thought, clearly relied on his technology. A fact she planned to exploit during the match.

Anything, she thought, to give the boy a chance of survival.

Eventually, all combatants completed their preparations. Knowing what was next, M'gann closed her eyes and forced her mind to focus. In less than a moment, she would be finding herself awaking inside of the coliseum. In less than a moment, M'gann would have to decide just how much she was willing to sacrifice. Her life for the boy or who she was at her very core to ensure she remained victorious.

The collar around her neck grew warm as it prepared to discharge the sedative. She heard the distinct sounds of Major Domo tapping his device's screen, keying up the latest command.

The world erupted in a cacophony of detonations. A series of half a dozen blasts rocked the far side of the waiting room, blowing out the wall. More percussive salvos could be heard from elsewhere in the compound. A concussive shockwave knocked against M'gann, nearly toppling her as she tried to regain her composure.

Her ears rang. Her vision was slightly dotted from the flaring explosions. Her neck felt warm, light. She reached to her throat, checking for a wound, shrapnel, anything. Fingers connected with her skin, tracing absent-mindedly from the front to the sides of her neck. Nothing as far as she could feel.

Nothing...

M'gann abruptly clawed at the front of her throat, her fingers catching nothing but flesh.

No bulky metal.

Her eyes dropped to the ground. There, at her feet, lay the inhibitor collar she had grown so accustomed to. The inhibitor collar that had rendered her a useless, defenseless, captive for months.

M'gann turned towards the others. All four were staring at their respective discarded neckbands, coming to the same realization as she had. The following several seconds seemed to stretch out forever before she broke the tension with a single word.

"Run!"

Moving with vigor she hadn't felt in ages, M'gann charged through the opening into the waiting room proper. She could see several of the guards scattered across the ground. Two seemed to only be unconscious from the blastwave, but a third was crushed under chunks of debris. The remaining seven were positioned around the blown-out portion of the wall firing energy weapons through it at whoever had initiated this assault. Major Domo stood where he had been previously, unmoved, devoid of any injuries from the explosion, and consulting his device in what she could only describe as amused confusion.

Without a second thought, M'gann pulled back her left arm before rocketing it towards the man. Her fist ballooned out to three times its size in the instant before impact. And then passed right through Major Domo's torso.

The hologram raised its head to affix her with its familiar, steely gaze. "I am afraid that will not have the outcome you hoped to achieve. Now, if you would be so kind as to wait here for your apprehension, you will be rewarded sufficiently. It would be unfortunate if harm befell the champion before the exhibition match could be broadcast."

Despite the pleasant phrasing, the calm menace Major Domo exuded was unmistakable.

Without bothering with a response, M'gann spared a glance toward the equipment room to make sure the others were following suit before she turned heel and ran towards the exit. She didn't know where she was heading exactly, but one thing was for sure: freedom was just around the corner.