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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

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I'll try and scrunge together a post in the next day or so.

Forgive me, as I have trouble keeping track of a scene with a lot of moving parts, but how many goons in the bank are still kicking? Is the one that Vincent was bullfighting still doing so?


Yeah, Vinny's still pissing about with him. I have a plan in place with Hillan and Stormflyx that requires at least 1 thug standing.
Ah, fuck.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
T H E H A R L E Q U I N


D U E L A D E N T F E M A L E 2 2 G O T H A M , T H E N A R R O W S
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:


"Laugh! And the world laughs at you!"

Duela Dent: shameful daughter of Gilda Dent, who in a base moment had lay not with her husband, Harvey, but his dark and violent alter-ego, Two-Face. When approached with his newborn daughter, Two-Face took the moment to lord Gilda's betrayal over Harvey, and Harvey's grief mixed with Two-Face's psychosis. In a rare moment of true co-operation, the pair lashed out: Gilda was slain, and Duela was left for dead in the Narrows.

Cue 20 years of being raised by the destitute and pauperized of Gotham's poorest alleyways, and the natural entry into Gotham's underworld such an upbringing segues to. Rumours of illegitimate children were commonplace, but for such a Gotham heavy-hitter to have spurned his only daughter was a particular scandal, even among the basest criminals, and Duela's first meeting with her Fathers was suitably eventful: she had grown into the image of her late mother, and Harvey's fragile psyche was ill-prepared for the ghost of his greatest misdeed. Duela gained her first scar, half a smile, marked like her father. She lost her standing with the crew, and was forced to flip.

She fell in with Joker's gang, and her blossoming loyalty and admiration of the clown's pageantry and embodiment of chaos was of little consequence when Joker himself discovered who she was. She was far more than a dispensable goon, then - she was a pre-packaged, second-hand chalkboard to carve another message upon for Gotham's most boring criminals. Duela got her matching set, and Joker's laughter rang in her ears as she was left for dead once more.

With a full smile and complete exile, Duela decided the criminal life wasn't for her; clearly, though born of Two-Face, she must take after her other father - Harvey, still the steadfast pillar of Justice beneath Two-Face's oppression. She would be a force for Good in Gotham, and work to undo the villainy that had rejected her twice-over, reclaiming those elements of fear so skilfully wielded by the crime lords of Gotham. Except to Duela's addled mind, there was little difference between serial murder and petty jaywalking, and no difference at all in the mortal judgement metered out. And so the Bat rejected her too, and she landed - finally, inevitably - in the madhouse.

A special transfer authorisation to Belle Reve didn't turn a single head in the halls of Arkham. Duela only realised something greater was at play when she woke in her new cell, face-to-face with Amanda Waller. She's worked on the Squad ever since.

A B I L I T I E S:

Duela has no powers or special abilities, but is instead an incredibly unpredictable, chaotic, and topsy-turvey field operative with an eccentric streak a mile wide and a surprisingly good head for improvised weapons and gadgetry. Her greatest strength is how often she is underestimated, and how poorly even those who estimate her to the inch can anticipate what she's going to do next.

Duela outfits herself with all manner of wacky and wonderful tools, and also with several practical, pragmatic utensils. She's a decent gymnast, and as a recruit of the Squad has been pushed through Waller's exceedingly-vigorous training regime to develop her speed, stamina, strength, and fieldwork combat skills.

She's also sharper than she lets on, or that people anticipate her to be - although this is often difficult for even Duela to acknowledge beneath the fragmented synapses of her mind.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

How the hell do you do 'The Joker's Daughter', without being a corny knock off of the Joker? Or Harley Quinn? Or Punchline? Or the Jokerz?

The real secret is you don't. You just take all of that rip-off energy that's intrinsically baked into the character, and you try and have some fun with it.

I rewrote her a bit, because Jesus Christ who can even follow the 18 different origins and reboots this character has had, and I've turned her into a wayward Anti-Hero, someone who means well but is woefully un-equipped to deliver on that good intent. She's still trying to decide who she is - in her canon history she's claimed parentage from nearly every major Batman villain - and she's decided that villainy doesn't want her and heroism is trickier than it look, so maybe this task force x business is a perfect compromise between the two.

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

Hasn't settled on a proper pseudonym, and is looking for one that feels nice and cozy, without upsetting too many red-and-black-clad floozies.

Considers herself an orphan, her true parents being the streets of Gotham and she a force that the city has delivered unto its people, much like the Bat. Batman has not enjoyed this comparison on their one and only meeting.

Despite her self-styled look being deliberately evocative, she does not enjoy being referred to as, or having the inference made that she is, the Joker's Daughter.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S:

Short summary of your characters thoughts, feelings and regards for the rest of the cast. Optional and can be added to whenever.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
O N O M A T O P O E I A


? ? ? M A L E 2 0 - 4 0 ? ? ?
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:



ONOMATOPOEIA. No other known identity. With no concrete information about this mysterious serial killer who seems to exclusively target vigilantes, particularly those early in their career, he remains a sinister mystery, spoken about in hushed tones if at all. Since his capture, he has violently resisted all attempts to be unmasked, and yet has made no attempt to escape his incarceration, sitting in complete silence in his cell.

A B I L I T I E S:

Appears to have the ability to perfectly mimic any sound he has heard, although it is unknown whether this is a metahuman power or simply a well-practiced skill, and it is unknown if this extends to speech, as he has never spoken either before or during his capture.

Possesses remarkable skill with blades and firearms, proving himself a strong combatant and able to keep up with his targets.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

Why do you want to play this character, what is the driving motivation behind both this desire and the character themselves. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go? What kind of role do you think your character can fit on the team? Why is your character a hero and not a civilian?

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

Any additional notes you want to put either for yourself, the GM or other players to help clarify your vision or additions to the DC-Mythos. Equipment or signature gear, like your cool boomerangs or sick car goes here. Info about any relationships to canon heroes should go here.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S:

Short summary of your characters thoughts, feelings and regards for the rest of the cast. Optional and can be added to whenever.
DC only? Just out of curiosity.
I hope that post was okay ;~;


It was great! It also puts Eilidh in a dangerous position which would work really well for something I’m hoping to kick off during this escapade. Open to discussion?
One by one, the rest of the squad - bar Eilidh, who was somewhere outside, hopefully far out of reach of the bank thugs - descended to the lower level of the bank, whether by hole or stairs depending on bravado; even Dandelion, which slunk away from where it had been standing between Vincent and Julian. It gave Vincent a side-eyed look as it backed off and disappeared toward the stairs, and Vincent was almost impressed at the natural human subtlety of the leer.

He turned his attention back to Julian, who was biting back in a manner not un-characteristic of their exchanges.
"Don't pretend you've not found yourself a new pet, Luthor. Stop kidding yourself; you're not my nanny," Vincent retorted as he brushed past Julian, deliberately shoulder-bumping him as he went, to stand at the edge of the hole in the floor and look down to the basement below. He put a foot forward into the hole, and stepped down; he dropped an inch, maybe two, as his foot met the ground brought up to meet him. Vincent turned to look at Julian as he stepped down with his other leg and allowed the space to re-align itself around him. "You're my jailor."

And he was in the vault room. Small pleasures of super-human abilities; never having to give up the last word if you didn't want to. And Vincent oh-so-rarely wanted to.

He took a moment to take stock of the proceedings down here on the lower level. Then he swore.

Conor and Charity were busy with one; Red and Hana had become tangled in a fracas with a second. A third was staring in revulsion as the shattered skull of the dog that was Dandelion reshaped itself into something distinctly un-dog-shaped - and the fourth and final one was shaking tiny bits of Dandelion off his leg, distracted from the reconstituting hound; then he spotted Vincent, who awkwardly smiled and waved.

Next thing Vincent knew he was being charged at, and next thing after that was he wasn't being charged at at all, and instead the thug - with blood flowing steadily further and further up his pant leg, and Vincent realising he just had to play Toro and stall long enough for Dandelion to do whatever nasty alien thing it was planning to do - bullrushing headfirst into the very wall he'd just departed from. There were mixed groans of pain and confusion, and Vincent found himself smirking as the brute shook his head cartoonishly, dust falling gently from his hair and a sizeable dent left in the stone wall.

Okay. Maybe this could be fun. Vincent struck his best pose, and flapped an invisible cape.
"Come on, Bogo. I dare you to hit me!"
Action, drama, animal abuse, cosmic horror, Dandyposting has it all.


I'm so glad I liked your sheet enough to not want to compete with my own alien. Dandelion is brilliant.

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