Supermaxx

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

The Boy of Tomorrow

S U P E R B O Y
S U P E R B O Y

^{"Truth and justice-- my way."}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ Subject 13-B04 _________________________________________________________ Human/Kryptonian Hybrid Clone | Superhero _________________________________________________________ Metropolis | Delaware | United States C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S _________________________________________________________ [+] - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Superboy's status as a clone of Superman is a closely guarded secret. To the public, he's a successful subject of CADMUS's Superhuman Enhancement Program, which aims to give superpowers to ordinary people. His abilities are merely based on Superman's own. - P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G _________________________________________________________ [+] - P O S T C A T A L O G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ -

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T ________________________________________________________________________________________ Superboy was born in a glass womb with a syringe and petri dish for parents. He was the firstborn son of CADMUS International, a rapidly rising conglomerate that got its start as a biopharmaceutical company at the cutting edge of genetic engineering and genome editing. The ambitions of their founder, Dr. Paul Westfield, stretched far further than medicine, however. He was engrossed with the metahuman phenomena and Superman in-particular, pouring his heart and soul into unlocking the alien's genetic potential. That obsession bore fruit and it would come to be called Superboy. His 'birth' radically altered the company's direction. They hired teams of PR consultants, marketing experts and social media gurus to design the Superboy's persona from the ground up. His appearance, personality and very being were all shaped for one, specific mission: to sell the public- and national governments- on homegrown superheroes. Four months later, Superboy is a household name. He has one of the largest social media followings of any public superhero. He's appeared on late night TV, national news, and even a certain comedian and DMT enthusiast's podcast. They've got him on soda ads, pajamas and charity campaigns. A drone-based film crew ensures all of his heroics are publicized, from the planned events to the spontaneous battles with low-grade villains. He's even had team-ups with the Avengers! Rumor has it there's a documentary series in the works that'll reveal the real, grungy underbelly of what its like to be a superhero-- on CADMUS's exclusive streaming service, of course. For all the power, fame and wealth at his fingertips, Superboy couldn't be more dissatisfied. He's no idiot- he knows he's a product from a test tube meant to push an agenda. CADMUS has him shaking hands and signing autographs when he oughta be helping people- Superman doesn't do media tours. They might call him family, might show him their twisted version of appreciation, but he doesn't have parents. Can't have real relationships. He yearns for...something more. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) ________________________________________________________________________________________ Superboy was my old ID on the Guild for a reason: I absolutely adore this character. As a real young kid Superman was always my favorite superhero, and he was strangely both something to aspire toward and yet too perfect to ever attain. Then along came Superboy, the living representation of that idea- and I was hooked. This iteration of the character is my modernized take on the character, shifting him to be the closest real world analogue we have to the superhero: influencers and celebrities. It’s a take on the genre we’ve seen before- The Boys is an obvious inspiration- but not in these One Universe games. I’m hoping to tackle some big capital-T-themes this time around: all the expected SciFi trappings on artificially created lifeforms, corporate power and influencer culture. Give it a spicing of coming-of-age teen drama and you’ve got yourself a decently meaty story. Don’t let any of that distract you from the hitting things and all the shitty one-liners. My biggest hope is that somebody comes along and applied for the the big, blue Boy Scout, but I made sure the concept could stand on its own two legs without Superman as a player character- all it really demands is that he exists and is somewhat notable as a figure. I’m eternally down as fuck for an eventual forming of the Teen Titans or some other group of young fuckups as that’s the environment the character thrives in the most, but I’ll be more than happy with the occasional team up. For this beginning stretch of the game Superboy is undoubtedly a ROAMING character, but I’ll be running through a Cadmus plot in his solo stints to develop him as a character and there’s a very good chance that could balloon into a full blown plot, turning him into a DRIVING character for at least one arc. T H E A D V E N T U R E S O F S U P E R B O Y ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ I S S U E # 0 1 PULL MY STRINGS Superboy gets his first taste of a real supervillain, but it isn't all its cracked up to be. Characters Involved: Knockout, Tana Moon, Dr. Paul Westfield Desired # of Players: N/A

---

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

<Snipped quote by Rapid Reader>

Well, looks like I may be dusting off Magik once again

@Natty

Your Magik run fuckin slapped.

Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]

neat

ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜱ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙy ᴍᴀɴ

whoa

Mass Effect: Vigil

Sigma, biotic disaster

	John Siegfried Bauer Nickname: Sig Callsign: Sigma Height: 6’0 ft Weight: 190 lbs Age: 37 Birthplace: Berlin, Earth Birth date: February 27th, 2150 CE Race: Human Class: Vanguard

Profile

---

APPEARANCE◢

Tall, sturdy, and cybernetically-enhanced, Sig is built to take as much of a beating as he can deliver. His face has been smashed apart and reconstructed half a dozen times, and even the best docs would struggle to work with the surviving material. Heavily scarred and bruised original tissue stands out next to off-color skin grafts. A crooked nose saddles between two glowing cybernetic eyes. To top it all off his hairline's already receding and going grey before he's even forty. And that's only what's immediately visible- just below the neck is a canvas of outdated prosthetics, old wounds and bad ink. In short: he's an ugly motherfucker.

He dresses as poorly as he looks, too, preferring ratty military surplus with all function and no form. The only decent piece in his collection is his armor, which he upkeeps according to company regulations just to avoid the fines.

MOTIVATIONS AND OUTLOOK◢

The galaxy is not a gentle place. She is a harsh mistress whose whims can change as easily as the wind, so you'd best be sure to get everything you can out of her before she crushes you like the insignificant, up-jumped ape you are. Beauty comes as easily to her as brutality. She can give you decades of friendship and companionship only to suddenly rip it away and never give you a chance to say goodbye. Don't count on any kind of cosmic power to be on your side- nothing happens for a reason, its all just chaos and carnage and a mad dash for any kind of satisfaction before the end.

Bauer learned a long time ago to take as much as he could out of life. Never a second to be wasted, though being wasted certainly wasn't a waste. He was always on the move, coming into people's lives like a hurricane and leaving once he'd gotten all he could out of them. Life was fast. Life was brutal. There was never time to slow down and reflect, never a moment to settle down and just enjoy someone's company- there was always something he was meant to be doing. Anybody who tried to stop him, tried to take the choice away from him, was met with either a lifetime of resentment- for those too far away or too abstract- or a slug round to the chest- for everyone else.

He got good at finding humor in everything. Laughter helped him process all the horrible shit he was doing and seeing. Kept it all at arms length, like he was watching a surreal comedy that looked a lot like his own life yet certainly wasn't.

The war gave Bauer something he'd never had: perspective. For his whole life he'd only ever looked out for himself. After all, nobody else was going to. He'd only ever been a tool to be used and discarded or a rival to be put in the dirt; why would he treat anyone else any different? People were selfish. They were cruel. Then came the war, and he saw some of the worst scum in the galaxy pulling families from collapsed building, patching up injured old men and comforting frightened children. Fragile as people turned out to be, wicked as they could be, they were capable of tremendous good, too. The road to atonement was long and steep, but it was climb he was willing to undertake.

BACKGROUND◢

John Siegfried Bauer was the second child of John and Ariel Bauer, a pair of starship maintenance technicians employed at one of the largest space ports in Europe. An engine leak at the maintenance depot exposed Ariel and her unborn child to Element Zero, resulting in two things: John Jr developing biotic abilities as a pre-teen, and Ariel contracting terminal cancer. Her death broke her husband, leaving him all-too vulnerable when agents of Conatix Industries showed up at his door 'requesting' to take his son away for his own safety. Dad had no fight left in him and let the boy go.

They carted him off to Gagarin Station, an isolated outpost at the edge of the Sol system, to participate in the 'BAaT' program: Biotic Acclimation and Temperance Training. Or, as the kids liked to call it, Brain Camp. It was a cruel, grueling environment where children were treated as weapons to be honed rather than people. It broke many of them, even killed a few. Those that survived the ordeal would have to live with the unstable, pain-inducing implants the program had forced on them. Sig was only nineteen when BAaT shutdown. With no home worth going back to, he hitched a ride on the first boat out of system.

Fate found him wandering the stars not long after. A cargo freighter he was working on came under attack by Eclipse mercenaries. They boarded the vessel and made quick work of its security detail, rounding up its occupants in the lower holds until they identified their target. Sig made the stupid decision to attack them rather than go quietly, lashing out with biotic power and nearly blowing a hole in the side of the ship. That display of violence impressed the boarding party's leader, a human woman by the name of Captain Baines, enough to keep her from executing him; and instead she offered him a place on her crew. It meant a bunk of his own, warm food, a chance to earn some credits and a steady supply of punching bags to loose all that pent up anger on: Bauer never even considered saying no.

Eclipse wasted no time in molding him into their image. Their training was as brutal as BAaT's, putting him through every horrific test they could imagine. They pushed his biotics, his body and his mind to their absolute limit, and then kept pushing after that until Bauer broke. Then they'd take up those pieces and put him back together again, only to throw him through the wringer once more. Hard as it was, it didn't fill him with the same rage and hate that BAaT had- Eclipse was ruthless, but Bauer had chosen them. Joining that company was the first real choice he'd ever been given and he wasn't about to give up on it.

Sigma fought under Eclipse for the next eighteen years. They brought him all across the galaxy, from the Terminus Systems to the Attican Traverse and back again. He saw wonders beyond imagination, horrors beyond words: ancient Prothean artifacts stolen from researchers on Illium, his own near-death in the Skyllian Blitz, turian dignitaries kidnapped on the Citadel. Watched a sun burn itself out. He dueled Blood Pack krogan on distant moons. Honed his biotics with an asari matron in a hidden monastery. Salvaged usable parts from a graveyard of broken starships and floating bodies after a battle wiped out both sides. Won a bet that he could spend a night with every species in the galaxy. He took hits, stopped hits and paid for a few hits of his own.

It was a strange thing. On his own time he felt like an explorer. One of those adventuring types from old vids who delved into strange new places and saw things no other human being ever had. He experienced the incredible, witnessed acts of natural wonder so beautiful that he marveled at just their memory. Met people with gifts that inspired him to better himself. The galaxy was far bigger than the steel prisons that made up his youth back in the Sol system. In ways he was making up for lost time.

Yet when Sig was working he was barely awake. Mind was a blur. Fingers numb. Every battle he ever fought was a haze, distinct yet somehow all the same. It was like something else occupied his body when the time came. His limbs were not his own. His actions not his own. He saw cruelty beyond human reckoning. Pain given to the undeserving over a couple measly credits. Old friends indulging in their worst impulses. He was a gun and Eclipse was his wielder. Whatever was asked of him had to be done, for who knew a weapon that refused its owner? It was never his responsibility, no matter how gruesome or cruel it got. They had given Sig everything, he reasoned. He owed them his body, even if it damned his soul.

The Reapers changed all that. They descended on the Milky Way in a fury, butchering whole worlds. Countless people were lost in indiscriminate culling: not a single soul was spared. It was madness. He never understood the true depths of evil until he witnessed the desolation of the batarian colonies. Numerous mercenary companies were hired by what was left of the Hegemony to fill in for its decimated military: they performed everything from search and rescue to escort duty for refugees to emergency triage. They fought running battles against the advancing Reaper fleets, hoping to buy enough time for the colonies to evacuate as many people as they could. Sig could never put to words how those days changed him. He began to reflect.

Batarian civilization was shattered in less than a week. Eclipse retreated from their cluster, scattering to lick their wounds and decide what to do next. One truth became readily apparent: no one could sit out this fight; not Eclipse, and not Sig. His crew joined in on the massive, multi-species coalition set to fight the Reapers. He found himself shipped across the galaxy, fighting shoulder to shoulder with many of his worst enemies from his previous life. The war effort brought him back home. Besieged earth, having suffered long under Reaper occupation, would be the site of the final battle for the Milky Way.

Victory came at a high cost. Earth was in ruins, the survivors were divided and scattered, and loss of the relay had left the system totally isolated from outside help. Sig has spent the last month just trying to survive the harsh conditions, offering a helping hand wherever he could. The hope is to reconnect with the rest of the Eclipse on Earth and find out what their plan is, but thus far he's been unsuccessful.

It seems he's on his own again.

Capabilities

---

FLAWS◢

An overwhelming guilt complex
Suffers from biotic-induced night terrors and acute migraines
tech illiterate
poor people skills

POWERS◢

Biotic Charge
Shockwave
Barrier
Warp

ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND CRIMES◢

John Siegfried Bauer has been charged with numerous accounts of: piracy, smuggling, kidnapping, murder and operating a shuttle without a license. He is wanted across several jurisdictions. Sigma has a reputation in the underworld for shooting first and forgetting to ask questions; yet paradoxical to his brutality he's been known to reject contracts on 'moral grounds,' refusing to go after underage, unarmed or otherwise 'innocent' targets. Those that've mocked him for his supposed weakness have been met with a headbutt to the nose or worse.

RELATIONS AND AFFILIATIONS◢

Longtime member of Eclipse, a 'private security organization'
Subordinate to Captain Baines
Former BAaT student
Estranged son of John Bauer Sr

OPINIONS◢

ur all stinky poopy haha

Inventory

---

CREDITS & VALUABLES◢ 700 credits	OUTFIT◢ Ariake Technology's Med. Armor, Eclipse Variant A heavy cloak Ratty military surplus clothing
WEAPON & TOOLS◢ M-27 Scimitar M-6 Carnifex L2 Biotic Implants	CONSUMABLE◢ A week's worth of food and water Enough thermal clips for a small army
ID & DOCUMENTS◢ Forged ID for an 'Alistair Black'	BAGS & CONTAINERS◢ A hefty kit bag for lugging around supplies

Mass Effect: Vigil

Sigma, biotic disaster

	John Bauer Nickname: Sig Callsign: Sigma Height: 6’0 ft Weight: 190 lbs Age: 37 Birthplace: Berlin, Earth Birth date: February 27th, 2150 CE Race: Human Class: Vanguard

Profile

---

APPEARANCE◢

Tall, sturdy, and cybernetically-enhanced, Sig is built to take as much of a beating as he can deliver. His face has been smashed apart and reconstructed half a dozen times, and even the best docs would struggle to work with the surviving material. Off-color skin grafts sit alongside scars aplenty. A crooked nose saddles between two glowing cybernetic eyes. His hair's going grey before he's even turned forty, and his hairline's already begun to recede. Just below the neck is a canvas of prosthetics, old wounds and bad ink. In short: he's an ugly motherfucker.

He dresses as poorly as he looks, too, preferring ratty military surplus with all function and no form. The only decent piece in his collection is his armor, and keeping it nice and shiny is regulation.

MOTIVATIONS AND OUTLOOK◢

The war gave Bauer something he'd never had: perspective. For his whole life he'd only ever looked out for himself. Afterall, nobody else was going to. He'd only ever been a tool to be used and discarded or a rival to be put in the dirt; why would he treat anyone else any different? People were selfish. They were cruel. Then came the war, and he saw some of the worst scum in the galaxy pulling families from collapsed building, patching up injured old men and comforting frightened children. Fragile as people turned out to be, wicked as they could be, they were capable of tremendous good, too. The road to atonement was long and steep, but it was climb he was willing to undertake.

BACKGROUND◢

John Siegfried Bauer was the second child of John and Ariel Bauer, a pair of starship maintenance technicians. An engine leak at the space port had exposed Ariel and her unborn child to Element Zero, resulting in two things: John Jr developing biotic abilities as a pre-teen, and Ariel contracting terminal cancer. Her death broke her husband, leaving him all-too vulnerable when agents of Conatix Industries showed up at his door 'requesting' to take his son away for his own safety. Dad had no fight left in him and let the boy go.

They carted him off to Gagarin Station, an isolated outpost at the edge of the Sol system, to participate in the 'BAaT' program: Biotic Acclimation and Temperance Training. Or, as the kids liked to call it, Brain Camp. It was a cruel, grueling environment where children were treated as weapons to be honed rather than people. It broke many of them, even killed a few. Those that survived the ordeal would have to live with the unstable, pain-inducing implants the program had forced on them. Sig was only nineteen when BAaT shutdown. With no home worth going back to, he hitched a ride on the first boat out of system.

Fate found him wandering the stars not long after. A cargo freighter he was working on came under attack by Eclipse mercenaries. They boarded the vessel and made quick work of its few marines, rounding up its occupants in the lower holds until they identified their target. Sig made the stupid decision to attack them instead of going quietly, lashing out with biotic power and nearly blowing a hole in the side of the ship. That display of violence impressed the boarding party's leader, Captain Baines, enough to keep her from executing him- instead offering him a place on her crew. He accepted.

Sigma fought under Eclipse for the next eighteen years. He took part in the Skyllian Blitz in 2176, receiving grievous injuries that required extensive cybernetic augmentation to fix. He was a hitman on Omega, smuggled Prothean artifacts out of the Attican Traverse, kidnapped dignitaries on the Citadel; he stole starships, sabotaged planetary defenses, dueled krogan bounty hunters on distant moons. Sigma was the gun and Eclipse was his wielder, and for the longest time he didn't give two shits about what he was asked to do. He owed this company his life for giving him a chance all those years ago- he'd do anything they asked of him.

The Reapers changed all that. They descended on the Milky Way in a fury, butchering whole worlds. Countless people were lost in indiscriminate culling: not a single soul was spared. It was madness. He never understood the true depths of evil until he witnessed the desolation of the batarian colonies. Numerous mercenary companies were hired by what was left of the Hedgemony to fill in for its decimated military: they performed everything from search and rescue to escort duty for refugees to emergency triage. They fought running battles against the advancing Reaper fleets, hoping to buy enough time for the colonies to evacuate as many people as they could. Sig could never put to words how those days changed him. He began to reflect.

Batarian civilization was shattered in less than a week. Eclipse retreated from their cluster, scattering to lick their wounds and decide what to do next. One truth became readily apparent: no one could sit out this fight; not Eclipse, and not Sig. His crew joined in on the massive, multi-species coalition set to fight the Reapers. He found himself shipped across the galaxy, fighting shoulder to shoulder with many of his worst enemies from his previous life. The war effort brought him back home. Besieged earth, having suffered long under Reaper occupation, would be the site of the final battle for the Milky Way.

Victory came at a high cost. Earth was in ruins, the survivors were divided and scattered, and loss of the relay had left the system totally isolated from outside help. Sig has spent the last month just trying to survive the harsh conditions, offering a helping hand wherever he could. The hope is to reconnect with the rest of the Eclipse on Earth and find out what their plan is, but thus far he's been unsuccessful.

It seems he's on his own again.

Capabilities

---

FLAWS◢

An overwhelming guilt complex
Suffers from biotic-induced night terrors and acute migraines
tech illiterate
poor people skills

POWERS◢

Biotic Charge
Shockwave
Barrier
Warp

ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND CRIMES◢

John Siegfried Bauer has been charged with numerous accounts of: piracy, smuggling, kidnapping, murder and operating a shuttle without a license. He is wanted across several jurisdictions. Sigma has a reputation in the underworld for shooting first and forgetting to ask questions; yet paradoxical to his brutality he's been known to reject contracts on 'moral grounds,' refusing to go after underage, unarmed or otherwise 'innocent' targets. Those that've mocked him for his supposed weakness have been met with a headbutt to the nose or worse.

RELATIONS AND AFFILIATIONS◢

Longtime member of Eclipse, a 'private security organization'
Subordinate to Captain Baines
Former BAaT student
Estranged son of John Bauer Sr

OPINIONS◢

ur all stinky poopy haha

Inventory

---

CREDITS & VALUABLES◢ 700 credits	OUTFIT◢ Ariake's Medium 'Mercenary' Armor (Eclipse Variant) A heavy cloak
WEAPON & TOOLS◢ M-27 Scimitar M-6 Carnifex L2 Biotic Implants	CONSUMABLE◢ A week's worth of food and water Enough thermal clips for a small army
ID & DOCUMENTS◢ Forged ID for an 'Alistair Black'	BAGS & CONTAINERS◢ A hefty kit bag for lugging around supplies

ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜱ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙy ᴍᴀɴ

5'10" | 150 lb

Name

'Garish' Garland Tyrell

Age

18

House

Tyrell

Personality

• Ostentatious
• Flippant
• Affable

Weapon of Choice

Longbow

Talents

• Archery
• Tracking
• Sneaky-thieving

History

Garland was the fifth son of Leonard Tyrell, the Master of Law, and the ninth child overall. Highgarden was overgrown with flowers, and its gardeners had little time for any flower in particular. It was a battle for even a scrap of attention from his parents, and he quickly learned the two best ways to get it: to be the absolute best in the house at something, or cause enough trouble to be worthy of their wrath. All his bothers- Lorent, Ormund, Steffon, Samwell- and some of his sisters- Rhea, Olenna - proved Garland's better at swordsmanship and riding, and his eldest sister, Elinor, was perhaps the most scholarly woman in all the Reach.

None could claim to be more troublesome than he, however, for little Gar turned out to be a quite proficient procurer of other people's belongings. He'd climb through high windows or slip a key from a guard's belt to steal something innocuous and get himself caught soon after. When corporal punishment proved ineffective, Leonard turned to Alester Rowan, his Master-at-arms and a tyrant with a blade: Rowan would either fashion the boy into something of worth or kill him trying.

It took many a battering and a bruising before Garland found something he was good at. He may not be able to cross swords with any of his siblings but he had an uncanny eye with a bow, able to hit a bullseye thrice in a row at seventy paces out. Over the course of several months he grew in skill and strength, adding on draw weight until he was able to wield a proper longbow as easily as Lorent wielded a greatsword. It wasn't until Gar won the archery tourney at Highgarden that it stopped being a punishment- that tournament was the first time he could ever recall seeing pride on his father's face. From then on he chose to pursue it of his own volition, dedicating himself to perfecting his craft.

Hunting proved to be his preferred method of practice compared to shooting targets in a courtyard. Birds were swift and unpredictable, but went down easily if snuck up on. Elk rarely fell in a single shot, requiring he pursue them for hours at a time. He learned to follow a trail of prints in even the worst of weather. And wild dogs and boar never died without a fight- if Gar wasn't swift and accurate, he'd be dead many times over.

The first true test of his skill came at a tourney in King's Landing, where he was put up against the best the realms had to offer. Knights, lords and men of great renown who'd spent their whole lives shooting- who was this boy against their like? A force to be reckoned with, he'd soon prove, holding his own against the best of them. Garland was a crowd pleaser, too- he'd prance around like a show pony, mocking his opponents to throw them off their game. Though he didn't win, he earned himself a reputation...and the name Garish for his misdeeds.

His antics were enough to get him an audience with Vaeron, the Targaryen prince, whom Garland was quick to befriend- there's no better friend to have than the future king of the seven kingdoms, after all.

Relations

Vaeron: Garland sought the princeling out at a tourney in King's Landing a few years ago. Gar had made a fool out of a few too many important people, and the only thing that'd keep his head on his shoulders was a Targaryen to hide behind. In exchange for bailing him out of trouble, Gar promised to show Vaeron how to live a little: and the prince and the troublemaker became fast friends. Gar would make his way to King's Landing with his father as often as possible, ensuring his time there would be as memorable as the last.

Lira: heeeey ;)

Bors: local man too stupid for his own good

Greyjoy: lmao nerd

Peake: uhh

Trivia

Garland remains unmarried despite receiving a number of offers from other houses. He has a reputation as a habitual flirt.

ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜱ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙy ᴍᴀɴ

CS

5'10" | 150 lb

Name

'Garish' Garland Tyrell

Age

18

House

Tyrell

Personality

• Ostentatious
• Flippant
• Affable

Weapon of Choice

Longbow

Talents

• Archery
• Tracking
• Stealth

History

Garland was the fifth son of Leonard Tyrell, the Master of Law, and the ninth child overall. Highgarden was overgrown with flowers, and its gardeners had little time for any flower in particular. It was a battle for even a scrap of attention from his parents, and he quickly learned the two best ways to get it: to be the absolute best in the house at something, or cause enough trouble to be worthy of their wrath. All his bothers- Lorent, Ormund, Steffon, Samwell- and some of his sisters- Rhea, Olenna - proved Garland's better at swordsmanship and riding, and his eldest sister, Elinor, was perhaps the most scholarly woman in all the Reach.

None could claim to be more troublesome than he, however, for little Gar turned out to be a quite proficient procurer of other people's belongings. He'd climb through high windows or slip a key from a guard's belt to steal something innocuous and get himself caught soon after. When corporal punishment proved ineffective, Leonard turned to Alester Rowan, his Master-at-arms and a tyrant with a blade: Rowan would either fashion the boy into something of worth or kill him trying.

It took many a battering and a bruising before Garland found something he was good at. He may not be able to cross swords with any of his siblings but he had an uncanny eye with a bow, able to hit a bullseye thrice in a row at seventy paces out. Over the course of several months he grew in skill and strength, adding on draw weight until he was able to wield a proper longbow as easily as Lorent wielded a greatsword. It wasn't until Gar won the archery tourney at Highgarden that it stopped being a punishment- that tournament was the first time he could ever recall seeing pride on his father's face. From then on he chose to pursue it of his own volition, dedicating himself to perfecting his craft.

Hunting proved to be his preferred method of practice compared to shooting targets in a courtyard. Birds were swift and unpredictable, but went down easily if snuck up on. Elk rarely fell in a single shot, requiring he pursue them for hours at a time. He learned to follow a trail of prints in even the worst of weather. And wild dogs and boar never died without a fight- if Gar wasn't swift and accurate, he'd be dead many times over.

The first true test of his skill came at a tourney in King's Landing, where he was put up against the best the realms had to offer. Knights, lords and men of great renown who'd spent their whole lives shooting- who was this boy against their like? A force to be reckoned with, he'd soon prove, holding his own against the best of them. Garland was a crowd pleaser, too- he'd prance around like a show pony, mocking his opponents to throw them off their game. Though he didn't win, he earned himself a reputation...and the name Garish for his misdeeds.

His antics were enough to get him an audience with Vaeron, the Targaryen prince, whom Garland was quick to befriend- there's no better friend to have than the future king of the seven kingdoms, after all.

Relations

Vaeron: Garland sought the princeling out at a tourney in King's Landing a few years ago. Gar had made a fool out of a few too many important people, and the only thing that'd keep his head on his shoulders was a Targaryen to hide behind. In exchange for bailing him out of trouble, Gar promised to show Vaeron how to live a little: and the prince and the troublemaker became fast friends. Gar would make his way to King's Landing with his father as often as possible, ensuring his time there would be as memorable as the last.

Trivia

Garland remains unmarried despite receiving a number of offers from other houses. He has a reputation as a habitual flirt.

ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜱ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙy ᴍᴀɴ

ewrf

Rogue Continuum: The Singularity Crisis (A DC and Marvel RP)

N O M A D

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'New York, 1932. I was tiny back then: shorter and skinnier than just about everybody I knew. Timid, too. Kids liked to pick on me so I didn't have a whole lotta friends. Had Buck, though, and he was trouble enough for the both of us. Parents were taking me to Coney Island that weekend and I convinced 'em to let Bucky come along. We were s'posed to spend the whole day there, but the weather took a turn just after lunch. Mom and pop wanted to head back, but we weren't ready yet. Hadn't been to the beach yet, and Bucky loved the beach. Wasn't much of a swimmer, myself, but I would'a done anything for Buck...so the two of us slipped away first chance we got.

Weather was bad enough that they'd closed the beach off for the day. Said the water was dangerous. We didn't think it was worth gettin' in trouble for nothing, so we worked our way 'round to the pier where they usually offered boat rides to tourists and old folks. They were closin' that down, too, but not as tight: nothin' the two of us couldn't slip by. I still remember starin' down into those choppy depths and thinkin' it could'a been twenty feet down or the deepest part of the ocean and I wouldn't known the difference; it'd swallow me up either way.

Buck offered me fifty cents if I jumped in first. I said he was nuts. He said he'd be in right after me. So I took a running leap off the pier and fell for what felt like a year before I hit the water. It was scary, but I was proud of myself for doin' it- then a wave hit me like a truck, and I went under. My heels were over my head before I knew what was happening. Didn't even have time to hold my breath.

I remember my chest burning. S'strange thing, burning underwater, but that's the best word for it. Try as I might to hold what little air I had in my lungs, I only lasted a few seconds before I inhaled. Every moment of it crawled by, refusing to just get it over with. I've been beaten, stabbed and shot more times than I can count, but that day always stands out as the worst of it. I've never felt so helpless. S'not like I can stem the blood loss or punch out the sea. You're helpless for every slow, agonizing moment of it.

Buck didn't lie, though. He went right in after me.'

New York, now. Whenever now is. Steve stood at the edge of of the Empire State Building's spire, looking out after the vast ocean stretching to the horizon in every direction. He kept one hand wrapped 'round a thick, metal cable so he didn't go blowing away in the wind. It was hard to wrap his head around where he was, even after the fast guy explained it. This was surely New York, but not his New York? And it wasn't the future, either, or maybe it was- but not really? His head hurt just thinking about it.

It wasn't fake seemed to be the point to take from all this. Everything that happened in that twisted psycho-circus full'a spacemen was the real deal, not Steve losing his marbles. And this was a real New York full of real people, who'd met as grizzly an end as he could possibly imagine. The scale of it was incomprehensible. The tallest building in the world was up to its antenna in water. That could only mean that everywhere looked like this. The entire damn planet was flooded. This was ripped right out of the pages of Genesis, just...without any ark this time 'round, if the martian and the freaky child were to be believed.

"...And the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh." He muttered to himself, nary above a whisper. Then he gave a small prayer for the dead and looked to the rest of that strange group of people.

The boy had taken a dive to confirm their suspicions and scrounge up what supplies he could find. It was no duty for a child yet he seemed weirdly nonplussed about the whole thing. Steve thanked him and ate what no one else did- his body was far and away more efficient than a peak human's. He could live off that last meal he'd eaten for a few more weeks before things got dicey. Still, even super soldiers had to eat and drink eventually.

Try as he did to stay focused on the task at hand, his mind wandered. All five of them were from different worlds...realities. Each seemed wildly different from the rest according to what conversation they'd shared in the few hours they'd been stuck together up here. He wondered if there was anything they all had in common. For as different as they were, there was plenty he recognized from their stories, too...seemed like no matter what world they were from there was always a New York, for example.

Steve cleared his throat and spoke up against his better judgement, looking to the fast man from the future that seemed to know so much. He asked that little, terrifying question that'd been chewing at the back of his mind: "Do we always lose the war?"