Simple Unicycle

One Universe: World Of Heroes - A Marvel & DC Comics RPG

<Snipped quote by Simple Unicycle>

It just means I'll use a Punisher hider for my inevitable Howard app.

@Byrd Man

Can't wait. Throw a picture of Chow Yun Fat in there for me too.

And God I missed this.

One Universe: World Of Heroes - A Marvel & DC Comics RPG

...

Why?

Would you get my hopes up like that, my son?

@Byrd Man

I had to do it to 'em.

One Universe: World Of Heroes - A Marvel & DC Comics RPG

EDIT: Sample post has been added.

The Punisher

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 P U N I S H E R

---

^{_{F R A N K C A S T L E ♦ C A S H I E R / R E T I R E D V I G I L A N T E ♦ N E W Y O R K C I T Y ♦ I N D E P E N D E N T}}

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

---

^{"I'm just an old killer looking for an excuse. But I guess it's better than not needing one."}

You know the basics already. Ten years ago, Frank Castle's family was murdered. He gave up his career as a detective to become the Punisher and take his revenge on the people who murdered his family. After killing those responsible, Frank continued his crusade on crime, waging a one-man war on the criminal underworld of New York City.

Except that's not what happened.

After killing the men responsible for his family's deaths and taking down an entire crime syndicate in the process, Frank called it quits. He got what he wanted. His short-lived career as the Punisher was over before it truly began. For the past decade, he's been Charles Forte, a middle-aged divorcee working as a convenience store cashier and living in a rundown apartment in the Bronx. Keeping a low profile and holding back that part of himself that wants to go back to vigilantism. But with a new gang moving in on his neighborhood, the Punisher might need to come out of retirement.

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:

---

Ah shit, here we go again.

To start off, I'll discuss my reasons for playing the character. It seems like every character I've tried since Punisher has flopped horrifically in some way or another. My attempt at Blade was half-baked and every time I tried to play the Question, I realized I had no idea how to write solo adventures with him. With that in mind, I decided to look back to my first character in one of these Hype style comic games: Frank Castle. Writing him was fun because I had an idea of where I wanted the story to go and I could write some cool ass action scenes along the way. It's pretty hard to mess up "angry man shoots bad guys". Since then, I've always wanted to return to the character. So, I figured "what the hell? I'll shoot my shot." And so once again I am asking to play the Punisher.

My story's gonna be simple and straightforward. Frank's retired, a new gang moves in on his neighborhood and starts trying to extort his employer, he decides to return as the Punisher to take them down. Pretty basic. Once that initial arc is finished, I'll probably focus on doing crossovers and maybe take a page from past me and have Frank go on a cross-country road trip like he did in Ultimate One Universe. The sky's the limit.

In terms of inspirations (because I always have those), first and foremost I'm trying to recapture the spirit of my original Punisher run. So as it was there, John Woo's heroic bloodshed films are the primary inspiration. Beyond that, there's also Max Payne 3, Logan, and The Dark Knight Returns, all of which feature that archetypal "old man returns to being a badass" storyline that I'm doing with this run. As usual, you can expect some recommended listening tracks with my posts every once in a while.

So yeah, that's that. I'll try not to flake out again, folks.

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

---

Supporting characters list TBA.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Issue #0: Exhale

_{Location and Time: New York City; Starlight Lounge - 10:42 PM; Ten Years Ago}

Issue #0: Exhale

---

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: N/A

The pulse-pounding beat from the club's sound system keeps me on edge. Jimmy Rossi is sitting at a table with some of his friends. Can't hear what they're talking about from where I am, could be anything. Probably nothing important. Rossi stands, says something to the group, and starts making a b-line for the restrooms. I get out of my seat and follow him. A few eyes are drawn to me, watching my every move like a predator waiting for one fatal mistake from its prey. I think they mixed up who's who in this situation though.

Rossi enters the men's restroom. I wait outside the door for a minute before walking in. He flushes the urinal and turns towards the sinks, only to see me standing in front of the door. He quirks a brow at me, as if wondering if he's seen me before. We both know he has, but I don't think he wants to admit from where. "Jimmy Rossi?" I ask, staring into his eyes and remembering the unbridled joy they held as he pulled the trigger.

"Yeah? What's it to ya?"

"You took something of mine from me."

"I tend to do that a lot, so excuse me if what I took from you is slippin' my mind. Who are you again?"

I pull the Beretta from my coat and level it at his head. His eyes widen with shock for just a moment before returning to normal. He was already expecting this. "A week ago you shot me, my wife, and my children. Your aim was a bit off, missed my heart by an inch or two. My family wasn't quite so lucky." I take a step closer. "I'm here to pay you back."

Rossi gives a sigh and shakes his head. "Right, you're that cop. Castle, was it? Look, I know you got your heart dead set on icin' me right here and now, but if you do that you ain't walkin' out of this club alive. If you leave now, you still got a shot at livin'. I'll even talk my boss into giving you a week's headstart before we come after you." He gives a smug grin.

He thinks he can scare me into backing off. A smarter man might've backed off. Too bad for him, I wasn't exactly very smart. "Tempting," I say, seeming to mull over his words. "But I'll pass on that offer." He only has a moment for the reality of the situation to dawn on him before I fire, sending the bullet flying through his skull. His blood and brain matter splatters onto the wall behind him, forming something like a macabre Jackson Pollock painting.

Rossi's body hasn't even had time to slump to the floor before the door to the bathroom flies open, one of his friends aiming a gun at me and shouting a dozen or so curse words per second. I duck, spin around, and fire twice into his torso before he can get a shot off. He falls to the ground with a yell, a pool of blood forming beneath him. I sprint through the open door, leaving the dead man and the dying one behind.

I barely have time to think about my next move before I'm dropping to the floor at the sound of gunshots. A guard is firing at me as the club goers scatter, running and shoving their way towards the nearest exit. I roll behind a pillar as the guard continues to fire, standing up and flattening myself against it. Inhale. Count to ten. Exhale. Keep calm. Don't be rash. One wrong decision and it's lights out.

I dive away from the pillar, firing once (grazed his left leg), twice (missed), three times (got him right below the shoulder) at the guard. He curses in pain, falling to a kneel and grasping his wounded arm. I put a round in his throat and he hits the floor. I barely have time to process my surroundings before I'm rolling to avoid a bullet to the head. One of Rossi's buddies firing at me only a couple feet away with a revolver. I charge at him. He fires again, hitting me in the shoulder, but I keep going and tackle him to the floor. Sitting on top of him, I whip him once in the face with the barrel of my pistol before sticking it in his mouth and firing.

It's all a blur from there. Bullets flying through the air and blood spilling onto the dance floor. The saying goes that violence breeds violence, and it rings especially true on this night. The easiest way to describe it is a massacre. The media would later report that there was nineteen dead and twelve wounded. Four of them died in the hospital later.

Do you ever let the blood on your hands get to you, Frank?

You've had all these years to think about what you've done. One guy killed your family so what did you do? You made dozens of widows and orphans in response.

The screams haven't stopped since then, but you've learned to block them out, haven't you? Or do you just relish in them, enjoying all the pain you've caused?

Do you like hurting other people?

---

My eyes snap open as I wake with a start. My eyes are drawn to the alarm clock on my nightstand. 7:08 AM. A bit earlier than usual but otherwise good enough. I clear my throat and throw the covers off of me, stifling a yawn with my fist. Rolling my shoulders, I stand up and head to the counter to start up my coffee maker, then get dressed while it brews. Only an hour until work.

Ten years ago, the nightmares were worse. I would wake up in a cold sweat every night. Used to need a bottle of Jack to get me through the day. They're rarer now, only about once every month or so, and all it does is get up me up earlier than usual. I've made quite a bit of progress, but I don't think they'll ever go away completely. Still, a guy can hope.

I pour myself a cup of coffee. My eyes are drawn to the whiskey bottle next to the sugar, my hand trembling slightly at the sight of it. I sigh in defeat, grab it, and splash a bit into my coffee. Good thing I didn't listen too much during the AA meetings. When it comes down to it, abstinence and moderation are two sides of a knife. One is a phantom pain that hurts less as time goes on, the other is a painful smack every once in a while. The smack is easier to deal with for me.

I walk over to my sofa and sit down in front of the TV, grabbing the remote to turn it on. Flipping through channels, all I see is stuff I don't want to watch, as usual. I give up on finding something good and leave the TV on a 24/7 shopping channel for jewelry. I take a long swig of my coffee while I watch, letting my mind wander as an overly-enthusiastic windbag prattles on and on about overpriced rings and necklaces.

Before I know it, it's time for work. I place my mug in the sink and fill it with water before leaving my apartment and heading down the street to Mr. Green's Goods. It's a quaint little convenience store masquerading as a grocer's, tucked between a hair salon and a pawn shop. Standing in front of the door, I take a moment to ready myself for a long day.

Inhale. Count to ten. Exhale.

Another day, another dollar.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

• Issue #0: Exhale

One Universe: World Of Heroes - A Marvel & DC Comics RPG

... Is it that time again? I'm thinking it's that time again. Hopefully won't flake out for the fifty-seventh time in a row.

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

_{Location and Time: Hub City, Illinois; Aristotle Rodor's Home - 3:17 AM; Two Months Ago}

Issue #1: Triage At Dawn

---

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Run

I give a muffled grunt of pain, biting deeper into the dishrag Tot gave me. It turned out that hit to the head gave me a pretty hefty gash and it needed stitches. Can't risk going to a hospital these days, too many sick with the Malkovian Virus. If I didn't have Tot, I think I would have taken my chances with an untreated head wound rather than risk catching that thing. "Shid, carnt yew wark any fasher?" I ask around a mouthful of cotton. Tot quirks a brow, indicating he didn't make that out. He sets the suture and needle down before pulling the cloth out of my mouth, leaning in closer and cupping a hand around his ear to hear me better. "I said 'shit, can't you work any faster?' This fucking sucks, Tot."

"You know what else 'fucking sucks', Charlie? Being woken up at two-thirty in the morning to tend to the wounds of my idiot protege." He shakes his head and gives a "tsk". "I'm not as young as you. I can't go days on end without sleeping. We can't all be unwavering machinations of some ungodly force like you are." Tot smiles slightly and I can't help but give a grin back.

"Point taken, old man. And for the record, I've been sleeping better lately. Got a full eight hours the other night," I add with a cocky grin. Of course, that's a lie and Rodor gives me a pointed look for it. The truth is my sleep has been getting worse. Insomnia has plagued me since my late teens but it's never been this bad. Last month I went for two weeks with only little scraps of sleep every few days to recuperate. It left me wondering if I was going to die. I finally sigh at Rodor's disapproving look and shrug. "Okay, I slept for three hours two days ago. Haven't slept since."

Tot merely shakes his head again, then picks up the suture to get right back to stitching my wound shut. Another pained grunt from me. Tot doesn't even blink at it. Just keeps on stitching. "You stopped drinking coffee before you went to bed, right?"

"Yeah."

"No TV or other such electronics."

"Nope."

"Have you been taking those sleeping pills your doctor prescribed to you?"

"They haven't work- agh! They haven't worked. I haven't taken them since last month."

"Try them again."

"Oh, come on, Tot. If they were gonna work they would- fuck! They would have worked last time."

"Try them again."

"... You know talking to you is like talking to a brick wall?"

"I could say the same of you."

It wasn't long before Tot had finished stitching my wound up and I was popping a few painkillers. This isn't the first time he's played doctor for me. Back in college, I used to get into fights almost daily. Sometimes it was a broken finger or two, sometimes a busted lip, sometimes a broken nose. Once I had to get him to stitch up a stab wound. I still have the scar from that, right next to my belly button. Getting it stitched up was so painful that I bawled my eyes out between curses and prayers to God. I don't think I've ever cried that much in my life.

I cooked breakfast as a thank you while Tot brewed coffee. I set down two plates of eggs and bacon on the dining table while Rodor set down a cup of coffee next to each plate. We both took our seats and I immediately went for the sugar shaker, pouring greedy amounts of the sweet dust into my coffee. "Are you sure you don't want coffee with that sugar, Charlie?" he asks. I don't answer. Too busy giving my coffee the consistency of syrup. Tot simply shakes his head.

I finish pouring the sugar into my coffee and begin to stir it. Tot quirks a brow at me. "So tell me. Who gave you that wound?"

I stop stirring my drink and lift the mug, staring into it for a moment. "Some no good asshole in Hupert Square. He and two of his buddies tried robbing me. You think this was bad? Well, one of them is gonna have to be eating out of a tube until Christmas." I took a drink of my coffee, feeling my teeth slowly rotting from the excess amounts of sugar. Perfect.

Tot takes a sip from his coffee. "You've been getting angrier since the pandemic broke out. And now, you're beating up muggers in the park. Why is that?"

That gives me pause. I don't have to think about my answer. I don't even really need to think about whether to tell Tot or not. The man knows me better than I know myself half the time. Might as well tell him. "... I don't know. I think it's this pandemic. Ever since it's started, I've been looking out my window and seeing all sorts of things. Robbery. Mugging. Assaults. Drug deals. Rioting. This city isn't exactly paradise, but lately, it's given Gotham or Detroit a run for their money with all this crime." I clench my fist. "I feel like I need to do something but I don't know what."

Tot takes a deep breath through his nose at my response, as if stopping himself from saying something because he's waiting for me to finish. "Really?" he says. There's no tone in it but I know what he's doing. He's being condescending. I can already tell. He's acting like I'm some fucking toddler babbling nonsense and he's playing along.

A hot burst of rage rips through me. He thinks that I'm lying through my teeth. Thinks I'm shoveling bullshit right at him. "Let me guess. Out of character, right? I'm the fucking punk that used to break into houses to steal jewelry and TVs and pawn them off. I used to beat the shit out of all the rich kids in college to feel better about myself. I used to abuse drugs and alcohol because I thought it was fun and would enrichen my life. And now suddenly, I have all this righteous rage over the injustices this city is facing. What a fucking joke, right?" Rodor continues to stare at me while I rant and rave at him. It just pisses me off more. "You're trying to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at me. I know you are. Laugh at me! Laugh at me because you think I'm lying you old fucking prick!"

Tot's passive expression morphs into an icy glare and it's enough to stop my rant in its tracks. "You're delusional, Charlie. I don't think that at all and I'm insulted that you think I do. I know you. It doesn't matter how much you keep it buried, I know how much you hate seeing people gain from the suffering of others. You did it and all it did was make you hate yourself and anyone who was like you. Right?" I look down at his words, slightly ashamed. "Right?"

I give a shaky nod in response. He is right. I'm a fucking mess. I'm not some righteous crusader leading the charge against the wicked. I'm just some asshole projecting his self-loathing onto criminals. I'm a joke. Tot might not think it, but I do. "... It's not just that, Tot. I do want to do something about the state of this city. Something I can't do as Vic Sage. I want to take it down from the source. Stop criminals before they have a chance to do anything instead of just telling people about it. Everyone already knows this city's a shithole, but no one has been doing anything about it."

"What do you have in mind, Charlie?"

"What does it sound like? Vigilantism. I want to go out and do what I did tonight. Find crimes, stop them before they happen." I say, then find myself giving a disappointed sigh at my own words. Saying it out loud makes me feel like an idiot. This is the start of some bad Taxi Driver rip-off. What would they call it? Investigative Journalist? No, that doesn't roll off the tongue that well. Starting to wish I went to med school instead. That opens the door for a lot of cool titles.

"That sounds like a terrible idea, Charlie. You could get killed." I should have known he'd say that. Leave it to Rodor to call me out on my dumb ideas. I turn away and take a sip from my coffee, now cold after I ignored it for so long. Rodor's disapproval doesn't mean I won't do it of course because I know I have Tot to fall back on. That's the cycle of our relationship: Tot warns me not to do something, I do it, he patches me up while he says "I told you so." Rodor seems to pick up on what I'm thinking because he sighs and rolls his eyes. "... Who the hell am I kidding? You're going to do it anyway. I might as well try and help you do it properly."

I smile at that. Leave it to Tot to have my back. "I had a feeling you'd say that." I yawn slightly and find myself feeling genuinely sleepy for the first time in a while. I guess the excitement of tonight had finally calmed down and I could sleep again. "... If you'll excuse me, your couch and I have an important meeting to attend to," I say, standing up from the table and heading to Tot's living room.

I can't see it, but I can feel Tot shaking his head and tutting in disapproval. "Of course you do. Sleep well, Charlie. You need it."

"You've never been more right in your life, Rodor!" I call out, before collapsing face-first onto the sofa.

I'm out like a light in seconds.

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

Friday's sooner, so I vote Friday.

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

<Snipped quote by Simple Unicycle>

There was more yesterday.

@Retired

Yeah, I believe it.

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

Jesus, I don't think there's been this many people looking at a thread for one of these since UOU or the first season of Absolute lol.

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

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 Q U E S T I O N

---

^{_{V I C T O R S A G E ♦ J O U R N A L I S T ♦ H U B C I T Y , I L L I N O I S ♦ H U B C I T Y G A Z E T T E}}

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

---

^{"In the face of evil, what can one man do?"}

Orphan. Street urchin. Thug. Reporter. Raging asshole. These are all words that have applied to Vic Sage at one point or another. His early life was rough, in and out of foster homes or on the streets, doing what he had to do to survive and developing a strong hatred for the crimes he took part in. Even with his rough childhood, he managed to pull through and make his way into college where he cleaned up his act somewhat; mostly due to the influence of one of his professors, Aristotle Rodor, who became something like the father he never had. Out of college, he got a job as a journalist for the Hub City Gazette, his hometown's oldest newspaper, first writing fluff pieces before rising in the ranks until he was solely responsible for the paper's coverage on crimes in the city.

The recent pandemic forced Victor to work from home. Hub City, already a simmering cesspool of crime just waiting to erupt, finally let itself loose during the quarantine. Through a window in his apartment, Victor watched rioting and looting in the streets, a hot rage burning through his blood. Someone needed to do something about it. One restless night, he took a drive down to Hupert Memorial Park and was jumped by a group of thugs. After a long, drawn-out fight, he found himself standing over the unconscious and battered bodies of the men. He knew what he had to do now.

From that day forward, Victor was a vigilante. He went to Rodor for help in this crusade, the two designing a mask for Victor using one of Rodor's failed inventions: a skin-like substance that hid covered Victor's face and made it seem like it was completely blank. For an alias, he picked the Question, inspired by his constant campaign as a reporter for the truth. With everything in order, Vic began his new life as a vigilante, reporting injustice by day and wiping scum off the streets by night.

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:

---

I'm not gonna pussyfoot around it: every time that I've tried to play the Question in these games, it's flopped horrifically. Usually, the problem is that I have no direction to go or a story to tell beyond some basic premise and I just hope that my characterization can carry it. People have enjoyed my posts in the past but I've always felt unsure of where I wanted my runs on the character to go, usually resulting in me abandoning the character and game after a few posts because I wrote myself into a corner extremely quickly.

But this time, I know what I want to do. I have two major arcs in mind, one relatively planned out and a followup to it in a conceptual stage. Vic will be going up against a serial killer in Hub City in his first big case as the Question. Without spoiling anything, a generic thriller plot will ensue; after all, can't get too risky for the first arc. The followup will be a bit more unconventional so that I can test my mettle and prove that I have a solid take of the character on my hands. Hopefully, when all is said and done, I'll be proud of what I've done.

When going into a character in these sorts of games I usually have some sort of inspiration outside of the comics and this time is no different. My biggest inspirations are the 2005 video game Condemned: Criminal Origins and the 1995 film Seven. If you're familiar with either of those works, then you know this run will be pretty dark. I don't intend to go overly edgy and grimdark but the nature of the stories I want to tell might take me in that direction. However, just because I'm telling a dark story doesn't mean there won't be levity and light-hearted moments, and I hope to balance the dark psychological thriller storytelling with likeable characters and some humor.

Oh, and I'm keeping the synthwave soundtracks from my last run on the character because I felt it gave my posts a distinctive touch.

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

---

Supporting Cast

Allies
Aristotle Rodor - Vic's father figure, friend, and invaluable ally in his crusade. A former college professor and scientist, now retired. The designer of the Question's mask.
Samuel Starr - Editor in chief of the Hub City Gazette and Vic's boss.
Albert Kert - A co-worker of Vic's and writer of an advice column, "Al's Advice".
Nora Lace - A new co-worker of Vic's, fresh out of college.

Enemies
None to speak of yet.

Will be updated as Vic gains (and loses) allies and enemies.

Accumilated Aliases

None to speak of yet.

Vic's Mixtape

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Issue #0

_{Location and Time: Hub City, Illinois; Hupert Memorial Park - 1:47 AM, Two Months Ago}

Issue #0: Run

---

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: None

Dim lampposts lit up the streets. The music emanating from my stereo and the sound of my tires rolling along the asphalt were the only noises on the street. It was the dead of night, a time when the only people out and about were crooks or crazies, sometimes both. Guess I was a crazy. I wasn't sure what exactly made me go for a late-night drive through Hub City. Part of me thought that it was insomnia. I hadn't slept in about two days. The apartment was too claustrophobic, too familiar. I needed a change of pace. But that wasn't it, not entirely. There was something in the back of my mind, screaming at me to do something. I didn't know what. I guess I would find out.

I glanced up at the sky through my windshield. Clouds were settling in. A storm was coming. I continued driving. Before long, I found myself parking along the sidewalk and stepping out of my car. I recognized where I was. Hupert Memorial Park. Sidewalks separated by grassy fields dotted with trees, all leading to a bronze statue in the center. The statue was defaced and vandalized, covered in graffiti, and missing vital parts of itself. Where once a monument to the man who founded Hub City stood was now a testament to how far his dream had fallen. What happened to this city?

Lucky for me, I didn't have time for a mental monologue on the state of the city and its inhabitants. A noise to my right. Footsteps, three sets of them. I turned and came face to face with three degenerates covered in sweat and grime. They each held different weapons: a wooden baseball bat, a lead pipe, and a crowbar. Bat, Pipe, Crowbar. They had a look in their eyes like this was their last resort, but they were fully willing to do this. Giving in to their darkest temptations, hurting others to get what they want. I sneered slightly at the thought.

The sound of thunder could be heard in the distance as it began to rain. "I'm gonna be straight with you, man," Pipe said, stepping ahead of the others. "We don't wanna hurt you. But we will. We want your wallet and the keys to that car."

Fighting three armed opponents without a weapon was suicide. My eyes darted around for a weapon of any kind. I spotted a tree about fifteen feet ahead of them with a sturdy looking branch hanging onto it by a thread. That'll do. "Sure. You can pry them from my cold, dead hands." I stood my ground, raising my fists slightly.

Pipe sighed in defeat and shook his head. "Fine. Have it your way. I asked nicely." Before I knew it, they were closing in on me, each with weapons raised and ready to swing. I ducked out of the way of Pipe's swing and shoved him into Bat, the two of them stumbling back and Bat falling onto his ass. Crowbar jabbed his weapon forward and I grabbed hold of it, yanking him to the side. His grip wasn't letting up, so I swung him away then ran towards the tree. Getting that branch was my best bet.

... Getting a weapon was my best bet? Why the hell didn't I just run for the car? I needed to prioritize my safety first. But some part of me wanted to see these men punished for what they've done. They had to have done this before. Beaten people to a pulp for their valuables. Might have killed. I need to teach them a lesson.

I was at the tree. I grabbed the branch and pulled it off, before turning it over in my right hand like a club. Sturdy, heavy. With both hands gripping tight, I turned to face my attackers. They were sprinting towards me. Labored breathing, they're gonna be winded by the time they reach me. Big mistake. Bat was the first to reach me, raising his weapon before bringing it down. I raised the branch and blocked the blow, before pushing back and sending Bat off-balance. I swung the branch into his jaw, hearing a sharp crack as it connected. Bits of bark splintered off and stuck themselves into his face and he collapsed on his hands and knees, cursing and sobbing in pain. I swung again and it was lights out for him.

I didn't have time to celebrate my victory as I felt a sharp blow in the side of the head. My vision went blurry and my ears began to ring as I was knocked onto the floor, my weapon falling out of my grip and rolling away. My eyes focused just in time to see Pipe's foot raised and ready to stomp on my head. I raised my hands to cover my face, slowing down his foot and allowing me to get a grip on it. I pushed back and he fell away from me onto the floor. As I got up I barely managed to sidestep out of the way of a swing from Crowbar.

"JUST FUCKIN' DIE ALREADY!" Crowbar snarled, swinging wildly in every which way. I fell to my hands and knees and scrambled out of the way, grabbing hold of the baseball bat. I brought it up just in time to block one of his swings, putting a deep crack in the bat. He reeled back from the sudden loss of momentum and I swung the bat upwards into his chin, snapping his head back and sending him to the floor. I walked over to him and raised the bat, bringing it down on his head, knocking him unconscious and breaking my weapon in half at the same time.

Pipe had recovered and grabbed his weapon just as I took hold of the crowbar. He had no fear in his eyes, even after I had taken out his friends. He had nothing to lose and we both knew it. With a yell, I charged forward to deliver the first blow, swinging the crowbar at his side. He backed away before jumping forward with a downward swing that I barely managed to parry with a swing of my own. Off-balance, he tried to swing wildly at me. I crouched down to avoid it, then swung the crowbar at his feet, making him slip and fall onto his hands and knees.

Dropping the crowbar, I grabbed him by the shoulder and picked him up. I stared into his eyes for a moment. They still held no fear, even as I reeled my fist back. "Take this you son of a bitch!" I sucker-punched him right in the nose, audibly breaking it and sending him back to the floor. He was out of commission. My quick, sharp breaths and the cracks of thunder were the only noises in the park now. I looked up to the clouds as the rain poured down on me. It felt rejuvenating.

I raised a hand to the side of my head to touch my wound, wincing and cursing as I felt a sharp pain. The adrenaline hadn't worn off but it still hurt like hell with just a slight touch. That meant bad things. I brought my hand in front of my face and saw slick blood on my fingertips. Shit. I needed a doctor. Good thing I knew a guy with some medical training not far from here.

I stumbled over to my car, opening it and collapsing into the driver's seat. I started it up and began the drive to Tot's house, hoping I wouldn't pass out from blood loss along the way. As I drove away from the scene of the robbery-turned-triple-assault, I thought back on why I came here. Maybe this was why. Some part of me knew those guys would be there, knew that I needed to feel like I was doing something worthwhile. Beating the shit out of them didn't just ensure they wouldn't hurt anybody for a while, it felt cathartic.

I snorted to myself. Shit, I'm sounding like some sort of psychotic killer now. Still, there was no denying that doing that made me feel good. It wasn't just the beatdown, of course, it was also the knowledge that I had probably saved more than a few lives by stopping them. Thinking about that gave me a high like no other, and in a world like this, I could use that high more often.

Maybe I made a mistake becoming a journalist: vigilantism was more my cup of tea.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

_{ACT 1: MERCY}

• Issue #0: Run (See Above)
• Issue #1: Triage At Dawn
• Issue #2: Motorcycle Cop (Coming Soon)
• Issue #3: On The Run (Coming Soon)
• Issue #4: Tick Of The Clock (Coming Soon)
• Issue #5: The Shape Hunts (Coming Soon)

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

Enjoy long walks on the beach.