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Roman Member

Grumpy Toad
King of Dirt

STATUS: Ribbit. 10 mos ago
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10 mos ago
Current Ribbit.
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Watch out.

The gap in the door... it's a separate reality.
The only me is me.
Are you sure the only you is you?


DON'T TOUCH THAT DIAL NOW, WE'RE JUST GETTING STARTED

Most Recent Posts

In CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
On the subject of the upcoming Season 2 launch;

As a new player to the game I'm still in my character's first major arc; while I have plans to finish this up, I recently got caught up in the launch of Destiny 2: Forsaken and have fallen behind. Oops!

As someone who isn't interested in participating in any mass crossover events with my character yet, will the launch of Season 2 interfere with my progress on DareDevil's current arc? Or can I finish it up without issues?

Basically, will I have to abandon my current plans mid-arc with a forced, universal time-skip? Or can I complete my arc, time-skip up to the new 'present' of the RP, and carry on from there?
In CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

III. Dinner Date

Matthew took a deep breath as he and Kate stood in the square outside the courthouse, having been ushered out by the police when they had secured the scene. Vincent Donatella, the defendant that Spencer and Murdock had hoped to pressure into spilling some big secrets, had been discovered dead by his mob lawyer in the defense chamber, hanging from the light fixture by his own tie. An obvious suicide, the police said. Obviously suspicious, Murdock thought. The corpse, and the room, had reeked of that cologne-and-leather combination that Matt now knew was the hallmark of the mysterious gentleman he'd glimpsed earlier that day, and that hadn't made a single appearance before or since. The man was obviously suspect. Probably mob-connected. Probably higher than Vincent had been. Matthew had no doubt that the accused had indeed hung himself; but there was no way it had been an independent decision. But regardless of who was responsible, there was only one outcome: a dead man, and a dead lead with him.

The trial had been thrown out and a new investigation now begun; Murdock and Spencer went through their questioning and witness statements, as did the mob lawyer. Kate had fled the scene to her preferred bar the second she'd been granted release by the pair of detectives assigned to the scene; Matt had hung around, ostensibly awaiting the arrival of Foggy and Karen, but surreptitiously eavesdropping and gathering information as best he could. The uniform cops knew very little, only basic details and what perimeter to keep around the crime scene as forensics had their way with it; the detectives were either dumb or playing as such, their questions meandering and aimless. Across the square, Matt could hear the two of them muttering between themselves, pondering about where the line for 'bare minimum' rested for such a case - it was clear neither of them thought there was much investigation needed for such an open-and-shut case. The cynic in Matt just dryly assumed they were lazy and poor detectives. The Devil in Matt wondered who had paid them to think as such.

He smelt Karen and Foggy approaching before he heard their footsteps and he waited until their voices were within reasonable earshot before he turned and smiled, waving awkwardly. Karen waved back and then blushed, and Foggy chuckled.
"Thank you for coming, you two. Foggy, I'm sorry to pull you out of the office again."
Foggy scoffed and punched Matt lightly on the arm. "Shut it, Murdock. You know I'm only practicing my quarters game in there most days. Marianne never gives me anything when you've got something big on, you know that."
Matt sighed. "And I'm sorry about that, too. Kate dressed me down for involving you today, and she was right to, though not for the reasons she thinks. I shouldn't involve you if it's jepoardising your career."
"Don't worry about my career, man. Cum Laude, remember? Marianne might not make me partner in the next five years, but she's not firing me either." Foggy put a hand on Matt's shoulder to reassure him, and Matt nodded. "Plus they pay me whether I'm working a trial or not, so it all works out at about the same amount of drinking anyway. Speaking of...?"
"Yes!" Karen interjected, enthusiasm in her voice. "I rang Kate on the way over to ask about post-trial cleanup and she's neck-deep already - probably drinking away her anger - so if both my bosses are drunk I've got free reign."
"Now that is courtroom thinking right there." Foggy quipped. "I'd be careful, Matt, Karen's a lot prettier than you. Kate might find herself working with a new ADA."

They all chuckled, and Matt considered it - but 100 meters behind him and to the left, in an oft-overlooked alcove in the exterior of the courthouse building, he had been listening to the distinctive tick tick of a Patek Phillipe model 5327G watch, and had caught a whiff of a particular cologne. They had lowered their voices and were talking politely and nonchalantly, but there was no mistaking; this was the mysterious man Matthew had last witnessed leaving the defense chamber, and here he was again, post-crime, privately discussing a seemingly inane matter with the mob lawyer.

"Some terrible rain today, I hear; though not a cloud in sight?"
"There's been a mild shower uptown, but it's cleared up nicely. Should be sunny days."

"How lovely. I do appreciate optimism when I see it. Still, pragmatism has its virtues."
"You'd be forgiven for doing what you had to the way things are goin' these days."

"And one must do what they need to to get by. It can be difficult out there by yourself."
"What if I found myself needin' some friends?"

"I would find yourself a good bar; I find companionship flows like water, where alcohol is involved."
"Any reccomendations?"

"34th and Lexington, downtown. Ask for a house special, with a sour twist. They'll get you what you need."
"Thanks. Sounds like a good place. I'll have to check it out."

"You're very welcome. Have a wonderful night. Best of luck to you."

They parted, and Matt took a private moment to internalize the address and process the conversation. Innocuous, even with context, but a subtext barely masked below the surface. He was brought back by Foggy giving him a light shove. He'd been out for a few seconds, focused elsewhere.

"Sorry, Foggy. I'd love to, but I can't; previous arrangements with El. She's forcing me to take her to dinner."
Foggy shook his head, but smiled at the same time. Karen looked away slightly.
"No worries, man. I'm sure she really bent your arm on that one. You need a cab?"
"No, you two go ahead and enjoy your afternoon, evening, night - wherever you end up. I'm going to walk back to the apartment and freshen up. I could do with clearing my head after today."
"Yeah, I bet." Karen said, compassion in her tone. "Out of the blue, that one. What a tragedy. You know he had a daughter?"
Foggy took Karen by the arm. "I'm sure we're all aware. We'll see you later Matt; call if you need us to uh, 'rescue' you from your hostage dinner."

Matt laughed and waved again as they walked away arm-in-arm towards the local favourite, then turned away and began walking in the opposite direction. He reached the street and walked south, the sounds of the city - footsteps, chatter, engines, birds - painting the world around him, each noise exploding out from its source in maroon eruptions in his mind and drenching its immediate surrounding in lines and edges, carving out the shapes of buildings, cars, and people from the blackness that lay just behind it. The heat on his skin felt like blurred auras of the things around him; moving, throbbing blobs of engine blocks as the pistons exploded petrol over and over, every person a warm presence in a very literal sense, balls of heat brushing past him on all sides. The city oozed and pulsed and Matt felt every inch of it. He shared his lungs with it and it breathed with him, almost for him. He could sense the pulse of Hell's Kitchen; feel it through the soles of his shoes, smell it in the air, hear it surrounding him. A city's heartbeat, thumping and thudding and throbbing through every fibre of Matt's being - and in his core, he could feel the venom poisoning his city's heart, the corruption coursing through the streets. The courthouse was not exempt, and Matthew had been a fool to believe it could be. No more. Not again. He couldn't allow the men who hid in shadows to harm the innocent any longer. The Devil would bring their punishment.

Matthew headed home.

-

He had completed a cursory sweep of his apartment when he'd returned home, and found it empty, Elektra having left shortly after Matthew, and clearly still out. Certain he'd been alone, he had opened a hidden compartment beneath his bedroom floor, wherein he had stashed the Devil; and then he was out into the early evening, the sun setting on his back as he lept across rooftops and dropped down walls, testing the retractable wire in his batons as he went. He made it eight blocks before the cellphone on his belt buzzed, and he paused, ducking low and pushing himself up against the rooftop water tank as he undid the clasps of his helmet and removed it with one hand and fetched the phone from its pouch with the other. He pressed a button on the side of the device, and a quiet, robotic monotone spoke the single word, 'ELEKTRA'. Matt swore underneath his breath.

"Hi, honey." He said, wincing. He hoped she couldn't hear it in his voice, but he was bad at lying to her.
"Am I to assume I am dining alone, tonight?"
Ah.
"Oh god, El, I com-"
"-pletely forgot? This is far from the first time. The wine is quite good here, you know."
Shit.
"Today's trial, El, it didn't go exactly to-"
"Plan? No, I hear it didn't. You're mourning a tragic loss?"
Oh, god save him.
"I'm sorry babe, Kate has got me-"
"Kate also thinks the wine here is rather agreeable."

There was a pause that neither of them felt comfortable filling. Matt could hear Kate's wry, wine-fuelled laugh in the background of the call, and more importantly he could not hear Elektra as she quietly seethed.
"I'm...busy. I've got to get this done. I'm sorry, El."

There was a pause.

"That's it?" She asked, with more than a hint of defeat about her tone. Matt's disappointments had long since passed incredulity.
"It's important."
"More important than this?"
Another pause. Matt heard Elektra sigh.
"Don't answer that." She said, and then hung up. Matt swore and stood, punching the water tank hard, leaving his hand against the wall to feel the ripples of the resevoir inside bouncing off themselves before calming back to still water. He turned his helmet over and over in his hands, feeling the curvature, pushing his thumbs down on the tips of the horns. This was important. The Devil was important. What he could accomplish, was important.

More important than Matthew Murdock's happiness? He asked himself.

This is Matthew Murdock's happiness. The horns answered back.

He put his helmet back on and took off running. The sun set on the Devil, and he leapt into the night.
In CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Would it be sensible to add lists like these to our character sheets for easy referral?

How updated are we expected to keep these lists?
In CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

II. Case Closed

Matthew's hand twitched as he sat patiently while the defense lawyer finished his barrage of inane, irrelevant questions to the one surprise witness he had managed to drum up for the trial. Matt could hear the man's heartbeat from here - high tempo, a light, rapid pulse, wild fluctuations as he gave his answers. He was lying. The sweat coming off him assaulted Matt's sense in waves of uncomfortable heat and foul odors - but Matthew also knew that the trail of 'factual' documents and corroborating individuals would be set up far beyond the scope of his reach. He wouldn't be indicting anyone for perjury today, but the dishonestly from both the witness and the defense lawyer built a slow, bubbling anger within Matthew. A rising rage combined with more cups of coffee than he'd had hours of sleep, and he could feel himself becoming irate and unstable. He flexed his fingers and clenched his fists alternately, feeling the patterns of his own skin and the smooth, varnished surface of the table equally, focusing on them both to center himself.
You are Matt Murdock, New York Assistant Defense Attorney. You will charge this man. You will attain a verdict of guilty. There will be justice.

Matthew looked toward the jury. A few glanced back quizzically; most ignored him in favor of focusing on the witness in the box. Steady hearts in most of them, although a few slightly elevated. Most likely simple nerves. He heard nothing from Katherine Spencer beside him; his DA was stoic and measured as always, her heartbeat a steady tide against her equally balanced breathing. In, out. Pump, pump. Nothing seemed to phase Kate...Matthew wondered if she had some kind of trick, some meditation or happy place. It didn't matter. She was up already, cross-examining the witness, carefully pulling at the threads that the defense had spun until they fell apart. Matthew had discussed his proposed strategy with Kate in Pre-Trial, and she had heartily agreed; pulling the accused off the streets would barely dent the mob's operation, as there were other lieutenants already subsuming the responsibilities and the money that came with them. But if they were able to glean a few vicious insights into the mob, with names and locations attached? They might be able to begin to staunch the flow of crime and corruption that had plagued Hell's Kitchen for years. This was the best shot they'd had in months; if they succeeded here, Matthew might not have to bring the Devil back out of his cage again. He might be able to stem that zealous tide of anger.

To his left he heard low murmering from the defendant and his lawyer. They were worried, that much was clear - a bead of sweat broke on the lawyer's forehead that he hastily mopped off with a handkerchief, and the defendant himself whispered in harsh tones, with the heat and heartbeat of anger. They were losing, but that was obvious; it was what they were whispering about amongst themselves, while Katherine was distracted prodding and probing their surprise witness, that was interesting.
"You said you could get me off, Harry." The defendant hissed through the side of his mouth. "You said easy, no sweat."
"Shut your mouth, Vincent, trial ain't done yet." His lawyer hissed back, eyes fixed forwards on the judge. "Didn't realise they had so much on ya. You never learn to be careful?"
"I never learned to deal with snitches proper. Told bodies are worse than words."
"You shouldn't have snitches in the first place."
"I shouldn't be here in the first place. How'd this go from a night out to bein' rinsed by the DA?"
"It ain't my problem you got a dirty habit and fidgety paws. You should consider AA."
"I should consider recommending we get another lawyer. You ain't good to us if you can't do your job. We'll get someone who can."

There was a pause in the conversation and Matthew noticed a distinct rise in the lawyer's pulse that indicated panic. Katherine finished her questions, and the witness was taken from the box by the court's security officer, practically dripping from sweat. Matt suppressed a gag as they walked past him up the aisle and out of the room. Katherine sat back down beside him as the court settled, the jury silently deliberating among themselves about the questions asked and answered. The defendant remained quiet as the lawyer tried to calm himself, and Kate leaned toward Matt, her body heat pressing on him uncomfortably in the stifled hall. He focused on her perfume over the lingering cloud of body odor.

"I think this is a slam-dunk, Murdock. You've outdone yourself with this pre-trial work."
Matt smiled politely and nodded. "I can't claim all the credit. Karen managed to dig up the history and Foggy's consultancy was instrumental."
"I understand we employ Karen, but you should watch how much you rely on your friends. Especially when they currently work for external law firms."
Anger flashed in Matthew again and he could feel his face twitch, before taking a moment to collect himself.
"I trust Foggy, and he's not working on any cases right now. I wouldn't cross-contaminate."
"But every time you involve him, you risk the integrity of our cases."
Matt's cheeks flushed as frustration burst forth, his rising heat feeling like it was scorching his own skin from the inside. To their left, the defense lawyer rose from his seat and approached the judge. Matthew couldn't hear their whispers over his own heartbeat in his ears, too rattled and irate to focus properly. The judge rapped her gavel and stood.
"The defense has called for emergency recess, and is granted such. Court will reconvene in three hours." She sat, and rapped her gavel again as murmurs erupted among the courtroom. "Dismissed!"

Matthew and Katherine dutifully stood, Matt taking Kate's proffered elbow as he allowed her to lead him from the room, cane and casefiles tucked underneath his other arm. She spoke to him in a low, measured tone as they slowly filed out.
"What the hell is this about? Emergency recess?"
Matt shrugged. "Probably buying time to find another surprise witness or pay off the judge." He replied, with reluctant resignation giving his voice a weary tinge. Kate shook her head brusquely.
"Judge is clean, I made sure. She's newest in the city, no prior involvement with known crime organisations, and she's put away several mob thugs already. She's the best we could get for this case."
"Another witness or 'overlooked' evidence then. They'll dig something up."
"We'll see." Kate replied, with a distinct finality that stopped Matthew's mix of anger and defeat in its tracks. "Let's just sit tight for three hours and get right back in." They pushed through the double doors at the back of the courtroom and found themselves in the main corridors again, the hustle and bustle of the judiciary system weaving around them. Matthew found a bench, while Kate looked impatiently up and down the hallway. "I'm going to get lunch and find the judge. Meet me back here in two-and-a-half. If you find yourself fidgeting, try tea this time."

Matt gave a half-hearted chuckle as Kate walked away, and he tracked her by the click-clack of her heels against the stone tiles. Ten metres. Twenty. Thirty-five. Her perfume mingled with the crowd of busy attourneys, court officers, defendants and claimants, and at fifty metres, he felt safe to stand and walk in the opposite direction, listening carefully for his marks; their voices, their heartbeats, their footsteps. He drew deep breaths through his nose, trying to find a hint of their cologne or body scent. He didn't have to go far.
They were muffled, their voices bleeding through several walls and closed doors as they discussed...something. Matt couldn't quite make out the whole conversation, just scattered pieces. He focused, blocking out the ambiance that bounced around his skull and zeroed in on their discussion, all the while following their sounds and scents trying to get closer. Their private court chamber was well-guarded, and Matthew knew he risked being held in contempt should he be found snooping around too close during recess, but he had to know if his strategy was working. He had to know if what he and Kate were trying to do was working. He had to know.

A door opened twenty feet ahead and to the right around a corner and the voices came through clearly and Matthew froze, moving backwards towards a bench he had passed a few feet back to take a seat and try and appear innocuous as he listened. A set of footsteps walked out the doors, paused, and then disappeared in the opposite direction. Matt used the sound to paint a rough picture of the owner: tall, male, smartly dressed, neat hair, glasses. The distinct ticking of a Patek Phillipe 5327G model watch - exceedingly expensive. A peculiar and singular scent, fine leather and tasteful cologne combined. It hadn't been present in the courtroom, or indeed any pre-trial on-goings. Matthew racked his brain, trying to decipher the mystery of this individual that had suddenly injected himself into proceedings at this critical juncture. He didn't have long to think; the door opened again, and another man stepped out. The smell hit Murdock instantly, and this was without question Harry, the defendant's mob lawyer. He held the door open and spoke back through it, presumably to his defendant, the only remaining man in the chamber.
"I'm advising you, Vincent. As your lawyer. Think about your options."

He let the door close and then walked away, towards Matthew this time. Matt hunched a little on the bench, holding his cane in both hands between his legs. He wasn't quite sure what face to pull, if any. The lawyer rounded the corner and stopped short when he spotted Matt on the bench.
"Stretching your legs, Murdock?" He asked, an air of irritated incredulity inflecting his voice.
"I got restless, so I took a walk. Lot of coffee today. Can't say I'm one-hundred percent sure where I am."
"Too close to the defendant's chamber, that's where. Wouldn't wanna accuse you of tryin'ta snoop now, would I, Assistant Defense Attourney?"
Matt's face twitched but he maintained composure. "Of course not. I know when I'm not welcome."
"And yet here you are anyway."
Matt said nothing, just stood and took a few steps towards the lawyer. He could hear a nervous heartbeat and smelt mild sweating, but a thick layer of the mysterious man's cologne rested above anything else. "I just needed to stretch my legs. Clearly I wandered too far. A lot to think about in this case." He took a step back and gestured down the corridor the way he'd came, holding out his other hand with an open, upturned palm. "Care to help me back to court? Assuming you can step away from your client temporarily, of course."
The lawyer sniffed and took a moment to regard Matthew. He wasn't sure if he was sneaky or just an idiot. After a few painful moments he conceded, and stepped in front of Matthew, who put a hand to his elbow as they walked in silence back towards the courtroom.

-

Two-and-a-half hours, after Matthew's jaunt, had translated into two more beverages - although he had taken Kate's advice and gotten cups of hopefully-soothing herbal tea instead. The bitter, earthy taste still clung to his back teeth, and he fetched a small cup of cool water from the nearby water dispenser on the wall as Katherine paced back-and-forth in front of the doors to the courtroom. She muttered angrily to herself, and Matthew simply let her stew; patience was never Ms. Spencer's strong-suit. They were waiting for the reappearance of the defense in order for court to be reconvened; as it stood, they were twenty minutes late and another ten away from contempt. Matthew kept an ear open, but mostly tried to ignore the distinct flavor of peat from the tea and chalk from the water it had been made with.

"Something's happening, Murdock." Kate suddenly interjected, and Matthew listened. She was right; at the far end of the corridor, a commotion was steadily building, with several guards ushering people in one direction while a few more jogged in the other. Kate took off towards the crowd, and Matthew found his stomach replaced by a pit of cloying despair. He crushed his empty cup in his hand and took after Kate, walking at a brisk pace, barely bothering with the pretense of his cane, trying desperately not to break into a run. He caught up with Kate as she wormed her way through the crowd and then reached back to grab his hand and pull him through too - and then he realised they were heading towards the defense chamber, and the pit of despair swallowed his lungs too. They had reached the bench that Matt had been sat on a mere three hours ago when Matthew heard a gurney being rattled out of the chamber and across the hallway. Kate swore profusely.

"Fuck. Fuck. It's a goddamn bodybag, for fuck's sake."
Matthew grimaced. "Who's in it?"
"My client." Came a voice from behind them both, and Matthew knew who it was before Kate whirled around furiously to confirm. "Overwhelming the accused seems like a nice tidy strategy one way or the other, huh?"

The pit changed from despair to rage and now took Matthew's heart as well and he dropped his cane on the spot, taking two long, quick strides straight forward with a clenched fist, winding his shoulder back -
Kate caught his arm before he even got to release it with a remarkably firm grip and roughly pushed his cane back into his other hand. The lawyer took a step back.
"Case closed, assholes. At least he's off the streets, huh? Nevermind about his little girl."
He walked away as Kate guided Matthew to the bench.
"Get a damn hold of yourself, Murdock. He's right." She straightened up as Matt breathed heavy, rubbing her forehead as she took a deep, measured breath herself. "Case closed."
In CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

I. Pre-Trial

The sound of screeching tires and startled screams filled Matt's world with cascading images of pavements, buildings, letterboxes, every noise flowing out from its source and splashing the environment around it. A runaway truck with hazardous cargo barrelled down the street - Matt could hear the driver pumping the failed brakes desperately, could smell the sweat that had flooded out with the outpouring of fear. The horn blared and the noise of it erupted from the front of the vehicle and lit up the road ahead - and then bounced off a frozen figure, paralyzed in fear, waiting for the demise that came screaming towards him. The driver wrenched the steering wheel, the man dived to the side. Truck overturned. Hazardous material blowing its containment. This wasn't right. Matthew watching everything erupt through sound and air pressure. This wasn't right. His father holding his hand, squeezing it tightly as everything unfolded around them. It's okay, Matthew, it's okay. It's not okay, dad. I wasn't blind yet. I can't see. I can't see.
"Dad...dad, I can't see. I can't see! Dad! I can't see! DAD!"

Matt woke up with a gasp and the world lit up before fading back out. He lay still, pushing out against the black; the ambient sounds of the city drifted in through his window; the early sun already laying down a thin layer of heat that rested just above the surface of everything, a silken web that only Matthew could sense. The heat emanated further still from Matthew himself - and also the body that lay next to him in bed, a smooth and pleasant curve that traced down her side to where the sheets lay across her waist. Matthew let the sounds of the city paint a picture of his apartment and softly, carefully, sat up and swiveled himself off the bed, feeling the currents his movements created and the alternating air pressures he'd affected. The wood grain floor under his bare feet felt rough and mountainous with the rises and falls that he could map out beneath his toes, and that microscopic moutainrange served to ground Matthew as equally literally as metaphorical. From this floorboard he knew it was 3 steps forward to the bedroom door and the living room beyond it; 2 and a half to the left to get to the bathroom. Behind him was the bed and its second occupant and beyond the bed was a metre-and-a-half of open space with a window facing onto the opposite building. He'd left it slightly open last night after arriving back late, ever-so-carefully sliding in so as not to awake his guest; now, the breeze flowed through the gap in the window, winding around his bedroom and taking the heat from the bodies within, carrying it out into the living room and through the draught in his apartment's front door. Matthew shivered, and told himself it wasn't, in no small part, the lingering dream that had woken him. He stood, and reached out to his right, groping for the small chest of drawers he knew was there; his fingers met the top handle of the drawer and he moved his arm down to find the third, sliding the drawer open to find the soft cotton underwear and vests within. Slipping out of the bedroom quietly, Matthew made his way into the main room and found his shirt and slacks across the back of the sofa, dressing himself quickly as he attempted to shake off the lingering dread from his nightmare. I can't see. Dad, I can't see...

"Need a hand with that tie, Mr. Murdock?"
The low, husky tones of his lover's voice erupted from the bedroom doorway towards him, the dulcet sounds of her voice spilling out from her and lighting up the room in golden-red waves as they passed silkily over the room and furniture towards him, knocking Matthew out of his memory-filled stupour. He smiled as she walked towards him, and held out the two ends of the tie he had inadvertantly paused with to her, which she gracefully took into her own hands to tie an elegant and professional knot, pausing to do up the top button on his shirt before returning to the tie to tighten it up to the collar. She sighed satisfactorily through her nose and Matthew felt the air hit her top lip and curve towards him; she was smiling too, he knew, by the angle of her breath alone. Her heat moved closer to him and suddenly they were kissing, only for her to pull away just as suddenly and leave her warmth lingering on his lips. She stepped away towards the kitchen and pulled two mugs from the rack beneath the island-counter, filling both from the pot she'd apparently started the evening before. Matt hadn't noticed that.

"Making yourself feel at home, El?" He asked, with a whimsical smirk and an edge of teasing. She drank from her mug, pushing the other one across the countertop towards Matthew as he stepped to join her.
"Oh, you know me, Matthew. I like to be comfortable." She replied. "At the very least, I promise not to disrupt your flow."
"I learned a long time ago how to adapt to...changing circumstances. Just let me know if you create a risk of stubbed toes." He drained his mug. Damn good coffee. "Or I might have to sue you for grievous injury."
"Oh, is that right? Think you'd win that case?"
"I'm blind, El. The jury would love me."
They both chuckled, and the vibrations of the air around her body as she laughed, and then walked around the counter to hug him, forced Matthew to suddenly notice that she was naked, made ever-more abundantly clear as she embraced him tightly. He cleared his throat and felt his own body growing hotter, and even blind he knew his face was red like beetroot. She giggled and pecked him on the cheek before leaving his side to walk back to the bedroom.
"Will you be out all day? I thought we might go for dinner should your trial go well."
"You know how these things can go, El. I have confidence that this is open-and-shut - but defense lawyers are often stubborn bastards." He walked across the main space towards the hallway that led to his front door, finding his blazer hanging on the wall next to his sight-stick as he did so. He could feel her heat pushing towards him from the bedroom as she dressed, and the breeze from the window carried lingering drops of her perfume mixed with her shampoo from yesterday's shower and a natural light sweat from the night, a sweet-and-savoury combination Matthew enjoyed very much. It was all he focused on when she was near. "I'll call you when I can. Will you be alright today?"
"I'll keep myself busy, Matthew. Good luck. I love you."
Matthew smiled, a different kind of heat swelling inside him now. He turned to look at her, and while they both knew he was blind, they were both aware that he saw her in a way no other man ever could. She smiled back.
"I love you too, Elektra. I'll see you tonight."

-

Matthew could smell the burnt coffee from the end of the hall, even through the closed door that stunk of oak and varnish, potent odours that mixed with Foggy's cologne and the lingering scent of sweat from countless anxious defendants. Karen's perfume was there too, a soft and sweet smell that relaxed Matthew. He could hear them talking, light conversation. A burst of laughter from the two of them made Matthew chuckle as well, and he walked the length of the hallway, tucking his cane under one arm as he turned the handle and stepped in, closing the door behind him and carefully placing the brown paper takeaway bag he'd picked up from a family-owned coffee shop that was on the corner. Matt had defended them in an alleged tax fraud case the year before he'd been made ADA, and they still hadn't forgotten him.
"Bringing your own coffee again, Matt? What have you got against my personal brew?" Foggy said, his words sharp but his tone lax and playful. There was no real offence here, but Foggy had always liked teasing Matt.

"You burn it, Foggy. Everytime. And I didn't bring just mine..." He pushed the bag across the table towards Karen, who leaned forward to empty the contents - three takeaway card cups, steam still rising from the hole in the lid. Matthew reached for his, a hazelnut mix that he could taste in the air.
"Karen likes my coffee. The burn gives it a perky edge. Right?" Foggy rebutted, looking towards Karen expectantly. Matthew felt the heat from her cheeks flushing as she smiled, wordlessly pulling her cup towards her lips and taking a long drain. Matt chuckled as he sipped from his own cup, before Foggy conceded and threw up his hands, grabbing the final cup. "Fine. But you're both bad friends, and I'm only drinking this because it's a gift from a blind man, and I'd look like an asshole if I didn't." He took a sip. "Damn. That's good coffee."
"I know, Foggy. You say that every time too." Matt smiled and sat down.

"How much of the review have I missed?"
"None, actually. We wanted to wait for you." Karen replied, pulling a briefcase from behind her chair and setting in on the table before opening it and retrieving three separate sheaves of paper - pre-trial stratagem notes. She passed one to Foggy, kept one to herself, and gave the third - a braille copy - to Matt. He began to read as Karen summarized. "We've got a known mid-level mob lieutenant in the box after he got a little too drunk and decided the strip joint on 3rd should have been a brothel. Pre-trial prep has dug up a whole bunch on this douchebag - we've got testimony from previous victims, ledgers from local laundering sites, numerous tips from low-level informants. There's enough here to lock him up for a good twenty years, easy. Jury won't even have to think about it." She concluded, and as the sound of her voice played its last echoes around the room Matthew could see her looking at him.
"But?" He asked. Karen faltered, and Matthew could feel the heat of her blushing cheeks erupting again. Foggy gave a single chuckle and leaned forwards in his chair.
"But you don't need the jury to think about it. You need the defendant to think about it. All this evidence, tension mounting up, all his recklessness coming back around, tips from his own people...you make him think he's sold up the river already. Make him think his friends already know he's spilled. Make him think he's a loose end that his bosses are just itching to tie up. And then he really will spill. He'll spill for anything we can offer him."

Matt smiled. "Exactly, Foggy. Thank you, for this - your consultancy has been valuable." Foggy raised his cup to Matt, and then lowered it quickly, shaking his head. Matt had felt the movement through the air and the heat of the coffee moving, and he appreciated the gesture. It saddened him how limiting it was playing the fool, regardless of how necessary. He pressed a button on the side of his watch, and a robotic female voice announced the time to the room. "We have roughly an hour until the trial begins; I'd like to go over our witnesses, informant testimony, and the order we present our physical evidence in - and then drinks are on me." This time, Matt raised his cup, and heard the replying cheers from his friends. "Foggy...make another pot, would you?"
In CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
<Snipped quote by Master Bruce>

It's still only a trailer, and trailers can be deceiving... but so far, yes.


Everytime a trailer hypes me up, I remember Suicide Squad. It's keeping me grounded on a lot of upcoming releases right now. Sure, I want the PS4 Spider-Man game to be Spider-Man 2 on the GC mixed with Batman: Arkham Asylum, but then I also wanted Suicide Squad to be a good movie with a vengeance against my doubt in Leto as Joker and Will Smith as Deadshot.

Still, this is a really well-edited trailer. Punisher season 2, though, where's that at.
In CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


▼ POWERS & ABILITIES:

// PEAK PHYSICAL CONDITION| Having undergone several kinds of rigorous training across his lifetime, Matthew has achieved a human body at peak physical performance, with his strength, speed, stamina, endurance, agility, and reflexes all at the absolute upper limits of human capability.


// PEAK MENTAL ABILITY | Matthew is incredibly gifted, having studied hard and achieved great academic success in his civilian life, and honed that intellect into some more practical talents for his vigilantism. Skilled in detection and problem-solving, Matthew also has a fantastic working knowledge of criminology and psychology. Furthermore, Matthew is able to detach himself from emotional response when necessary, able to turn to logic and rationality and focus entirely on his goals, suppressing emotion completely.


// SUPERHUMAN SENSORY SYSTEM After the accident that caused Matthew's blindness, his other senses began to compensate far past what was expected of them, and with Stick's later training, Matthew has honed these remaining senses into the superhuman, unlocking extraordinary abilities.

◼ SUPERHUMAN TOUCH | Matthew's sense of touch is so acute that his finger can feel the faint impressions of ink on a printed page, allowing him to read by touch. The rest of his skin is equally sensitive, enabling him to feel minute temperature and pressure changes in the atmosphere around him. Even with his senses of smell and hearing blocked, he can feel the presence of a person standing five feet away from him simply by his or her body heat and disturbance of air, which he can use to predict the movement of people nearby.

◼ SUPERHUMAN HEARING | Murdock's sense of hearing enables him to detect an acoustic pressure change of one decibel at a pressure level of seven decibels. He can hear a person's heartbeat at a distance of over twenty feet, or people whispering on the other side of a standard soundproofed wall. He is also able to focus on a particular sound, however quiet, and block all others out. Matthew's hearing also allows him to use incoming acoustic information to map out his environment in 360 degrees.

◼ SUPERHUMAN SMELL | Matthew's sense of smell is so acute that he can distinguish between identical twins at twenty feet by minute differences in smell. He can detect odors from even the smallest concentrations in the atmosphere. Furthermore, his ability to remember smells enables him to identify nearly any person by their natural odor alone, and he can use this to track a mark across a large distance, even through a crowd.

◼ SUPERHUMAN TASTE | Matthew's ability to identify and remember tastes in incredibly tiny quantities enables him to determine every ingredient of a food or drink he tastes, and even taste particular vapors in the air.


▼ ORIGIN & BACKSTORY:
Born to a nameless mother, Matthew grew up with his father, Jack Murdoch, a semi-pro underground boxer for Hell's Kitchen and its underbelly. Jack had a penchant for getting back up off the mat despite however many broken bones he'd picked up, and this trait seemed to pass to Matthew, who would treasure it in later years; for most of his childhood, however, Jack tried to keep his only family hidden from the violence that plagued the downtrodden Manhattan neighborhood and instead directed Matthew's attentions to his studies, making sure he kept up in school until Matthew started to excel by himself. Jack was proud that such a bright child could be called his, and he foresaw an escape from Hell's Kitchen for his son - an escape that would not find Matthew; at nine years old, Hell's Kitchen put in its claim to the child. A traffic accident and a courageous, reckless act, caused a truck hauling chemical waste and toxic run-off to crash and overturn, spilling its cargo across the road and onto several bystanders - including Matthew. Caught in the spill, the chemicals burnt his eyes irrevocably. Jack and Matthew's lives changed forever - Matthew bound to the abilities that would reveal themselves over the next few months and years, and Jack bound to dealing with a disabled son who displayed abnormal reflexes and sensory overload.

Matthew spent his formative years learning his new place in the world, refining the senses he had left and continuing his studies. Jack continued boxing, losing and winning when the local mob told him to, until eventually - as he realized Matthew's abilities and intelligence were beginning to pull him to greater things - he took a final stand, winning an against-all-odds boxing match in Round 9 against 'Crusher' Creel, despite being instructed to stay down in the fourth. Jack Murdock never made it home. Matthew fled Hell's Kitchen the same night, cursing the criminals that had shaped his life and ended his father's. He found refuge in an nun's orphanage for a time, until his abilities took the notice of a blind man who called himself 'Stick'; Matthew left with Stick to train his mind, senses, and body, and he never (figuratively) looked back.

Many years later, Matthew returned to Manhattan to pick up where he had left off in his education; securing a place at Columbia, where he met Foggy Nelson, and going on to secure a Summa Cum Laude Law Degree from Harvard Law, with Foggy attaining a Cum Laude Law Degree alongside him. Taking a cue from Harvey Dent, an admired peer Murdock had met at university, Murdock moved back to Hell's Kitchen with Foggy to become New York's newest ADA, a high profile judiciary position that gave Murdock quick access to the information he needed to start cleaning up his home. However, Matthew soon found that courtroom law was far from the 'justice' he sought for the people of Hell's Kitchen. At first, it was those in his immediate vicinity; a blindfold and dark clothes for the domestic abuser in the next building over, the cop taking bribes from the local dealer to keep him operating on student corners. Beyond that, Matthew moved his scope to the broader picture, donning padded athletic wear and a more stylized 'mask' to take on gambling rings and amateur human trafficking. Soon enough, Matthew saw too much in court to stand by without action any longer. It was time for the suit, to combat the massive crime organisation that underpinned the criminal everyday of Hell's Kitchen.

It was time for Kingpin. It was time for Daredevil.


▼ SUPPORTING CHARACTERS :

// ALLIES
◼ FRANKLIN 'FOGGY' NELSON | Matthew's partner in law as Assistant District Attorney and lifetime best friend, the two met at Columbia Law and have been inseparable ever since. Foggy is Matthew's walking conscience and moral compass, always there to guide Murdock back towards the light when the Devil strays too far into the dark.

◼ KAREN PAGE | A beautiful blonde hired by Foggy to be his and Matthew's assistant, Karen is tenacious, intelligent, and a little too morally upstanding to be safe in Hell's Kitchen. She enjoys a fiery chemistry with Murdock, although he refuses to let anything come of it.

◼ STICK | A martial arts master with supersensory abilities even more advanced than Murdock's, he recognized Matthew's condition at the orphanage and took him away for training. He is mysterious, stoic, and guarded, but nonetheless a strong ally of Matthew.

◼ JACK MURDOCK | Matthew's father, a semi-pro boxer in Hell's Kitchen who raised Matthew as a single father. He did well, teaching Matthew to be a kinder and better person than Jack was, and after Matthew's accident, still encouraged him to pursue his studies. Tragically, he eventually crossed the mob of Hell's Kitchen while Matthew was still young, and Matthew has been trying to do his father proud ever since.

// FRIENDS
◼ HARVEY DENT| The zealous and enthusiastic ADA of Gotham City, Murdock met Dent at Columbia Law and the two immediately formed a strong respect for each other. They rarely talk anymore, but Murdock keeps tabs - Gotham is a difficult city, and allies there are hard to come by.

// ENEMIES
◼ THE KINGPIN | The unquestioned head of nearly all organised crime in New York, with an iron grip on Murdock's neighborhood of Hell's Kitchen, and an intellect to match his physicality. Ruthless, violent, intelligent - there is no criminal in New York who would cross the Kingpin. But there is a Devil waiting to face him.


▼ SAMPLE POST:

Matthew followed the clacking of the metal heels deep into Hell's Kitchen, every step rippling out across the street and down the curb, lighting up the asphalt. The ripples mixed with the rain, every individual drop giving him constant flashes of the city - every sidewalk tile, every trashcan, every streetlight. A whole city as one surface, pulsing and radiating soundwaves and heat. Matthew himself spread noise, the low wet thud of his boots against rooftops feeding him information that he accepted, analysed, and discarded. Above all that was Matthew's mark, and now, despite the rain, he was picking up smells as well - wet leather, musky cologne...and the slight tinge of salt, mixed with oil and the unmistakable scent of gunpowder. The salt carried the sea with it, but Matthew already knew they were headed to the docks by their direction - but the oil and gunpowder was from the pistols Daredevil's mark carried, holstered beneath his coat around his torso. They'd been fired recently, but the man didn't carry the smell of blood with him, so Matthew assumed it was target practice or goods testing. They were drawing closer to the docks and he was learning more about his mark every step - testing pistols. Flashy fashion sense. Bald, wearing sunglasses, thin vest top. Something in his left pocket - the coat swung heavier on that side. He leaped another rooftop, putting a hand to his batons in mid-air. Something told him he'd need them.

Matthew kept on the mark's trail. They went a couple more blocks and then buildings gave way to warehouses and Matthew had to hit the ground if he wanted to follow. Warehouses were noisy and involved a lot of glass - in the rain, he didn't want to slip. Or put his foot through a pane. The guy carried guns, and bulletproof armour was hard to move in. Instead, he dropped carefully, leaping from the rooftop to the indent of a window a few stories down on the opposite building, landing with the balls of his feet on the outcropping and springing back, flipping backwards from the window and reaching out to grab a steel cable that was strung between the buildings another few stories down. His orientation didn't matter; he kept track of himself through proprioception and the buildings through sound, air pressure, the smell of brick and concrete. The cable flexed as it took his weight and he dropped the last few metres, rolling as he hit the ground and unsheathing his batons. He spun them in his hand and tested the retracting cable that strung them together, and then, satisfied, re-centered his hearing. The footsteps were still there, still his mark's. They'd been alone for a while now, and he hadn't changed his gait. Matthew slunk across walls and behind shipping containers, still in pursuit. They were by the sea's edge now, and the docks had turned into massive corridors of corrogated metal, walled off by cargo.

He whistled. A simple four-note tune, but it was clear in its purpose. A woman appeared from behind one of the containers. Matthew had heard her heartbeat as they'd approached - it remained calm. His mark's did not. He cleared his throat, and spoke:
"The guns are good. I'll take more pistols, and I want to add the assaults and the sniper. It'll all be useful." His heart rate was rapid, but his breathing and words remained steady. He was about to do something stupid.
"You sound like you're takin' a crew. He doesn't like supplying crews. They might get stupid and think they're competition." She replied, voice calm, heartbeat to match. She seemed to anticipate it.
"No crew. Just what's needed for the target. High-risk."
"If you're going after who I think you're going after you're going to need a crew. Not like you'd lose much on the split."
"I don't need the money." It wasn't a boast - his heartrate hadn't faltered, so he believed it. Either he was well-off or didn't care. "I'm not doing it because someone paid me to do it." Still telling his truth. "I'm doing it because it can be done. And everyone's going to know my name when I do it." He seemed proud in himself, puffed up on his own stupid ego. The woman just shrugged.
"Whatever. Just make sure you keep whatever trouble you stir up to yourself. He doesn't need egos bringing trouble back to him. You know what he wants for the goods. You can wire it direct."
"I know what he wants." Muttered the man, voice low - trying to be threatening. Matthew primed himself, every muscle wound tight, ready to spring. His fist clenched around his batons. The man unholstered his pistols, arm stretching out to hold it in front of him. "But only I get what I want."

The woman would have begun to laugh, had Matthew not loosened his body and launched from the corner, already raising his arm to strike with the baton - but the woman had seen his fast movement and the man had noticed her, throwing his arm out behind him to the left without looking and pulling the trigger. Matthew felt the arm's movement through the air, the heat from the muzzle and the sound of the gun telling him the exact path of the bullet and he was able to throw himself backwards to the ground immediately, feeling the air ripple and vibrate above him as the bullet slammed into a shipping container and ricocheted away. Matt barely had time to register the good shot before he flicked the top of his baton as he fell, releasing the cable that tied the two together and whipping his arm out as he hit the floor, hitting the man's inside wrist, nearly breaking it with the force of the throw and forcing him to drop the pistol. He slid in the rain, pitching forward and pushing up on his feet as the mark drew his other pistol in his remaining hand. He barely had to time to wrap his finger around the trigger before Matt brought his stick straight down on the arm, cleanly breaking the ulna as the shooter yelled out in pain, silenced by a boot to the chest as the other pistol clattered to the ground. The woman was pissed - at the mark.

"You brought the fucking Devil with you? You let him follow you? You're a fuck-up and a nobody! After threatening me? He'll come see you soon, don't you worry about that. Then, people are going to know who you are."

She was gone before Matt could stop her - not that it would have been useful to do so. He took a deep breath through his nose, analysing all the scents he could find before isolating one that would be easy to follow up on - fish, variety of, from the nearby market she obviously frequented - before he delivered a sharp heel-kick to the skull of his mark. Extorting an arms-dealer to get weapons so he could go after the very same vigilante that had already surreptitiously followed him to said dealer. He probably wasn't doing much damage that hadn't been done already.

It didn't take long to deliver the no-name to the PD, and Matt wondered if he'd see him later in court. Probably not - he didn't see much of his handiwork. He usually got them on the streets before he needed to defend their victims in the courtroom. He spent the rest of the night on more patrol, thinking over his new lead through the arms dealer and listening to his city. Matt had his own problems; but Hell's Kitchen wouldn't see anymore trouble tonight.


▼ WHAT MAKES DAREDEVIL 'ULTIMATE'?:

This is a Matthew Murdock who, instead of helping bleeding hearts and the unfortunate, still has dreams of being a big city lawyer. He's high profile and works high class cases, directly taking on the mob on both his civilian guise and during the night when he dons the horns to become Daredevil. It is more important than ever to keep his dual life secret, as he becomes a bright target to the underworld on both sides of the law.

In CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

<Snipped quote by Roman>

The only thing I'll say is that it may be a stretch for Matt to be DA right out of law school like the sheet implies. It's an elected position and there's a lot, like a lot of politics involved to get to that level in a city the size of New York. ADA would be good though. Unless he spent years as an ADA before making the leap and you planned on mentioning it in the actual posts. If that's the case then I'm good.

<Snipped quote by Byrd Man>

They call him Byrd 'The Factual Stickler' Man for a reason!

But yeah, I agree with my Co-GM. Everything else looks good, and as soon as you've edited to reflect the change suggested, you're pretty much good to go.


I've made a small edit to rectify the issue discussed; hope this is alright to be chucked into the character's tab?

In CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
<Snipped quote by Roman>

The only thing I'll say is that it may be a stretch for Matt to be DA right out of law school like the sheet implies. It's an elected position and there's a lot, like a lot of politics involved to get to that level in a city the size of New York. ADA would be good though. Unless he spent years as an ADA before making the leap and you planned on mentioning it in the actual posts. If that's the case then I'm good.


I’ll change it to ADA with Foggy being a friend also practicing law to make it more feasible; while this isn’t a DD origin story I’m trying to tell, it’s not one with several years on the clock either.
In CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

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