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3 yrs ago
Current is sexualizing Pokemon a variation of bestiality?
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3 yrs ago
lol. lmao
7 likes
3 yrs ago
JOHN TABLE!
1 like
4 yrs ago
hearing rumors that rebornfan is storming the US capitol, looking for whoever's responsible for everyone ghosting his RPs
14 likes
4 yrs ago
you got a fat ass and a bright future ahead of you. keep it up champ
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Bio

Most Recent Posts

@Kyoka Gonna work on Shulkies banner now. Then I'm gonna read some comics, make my Hulk post and if I still got time on shift/awake enough I'll do Widows.


they don't call him Sep the Scottish Machine for nothing. I mean, nobody does call him that, but if they did it wouldn't be for nothing.
These people create playlists more than they do posts.


im under attack
My Shadowcat CS was great and all, but this time I think I really outdid myself. I'm amazed I fit this much information in.



Gonna take me awhile to read this one
<Snipped quote by Cybermaxx>

After reading your IC post, I think you and I might have something we could discuss once I get up my next sheet.


imagine there's an eye emoji here. the one with the two eyes, looking slightly to the left. The irises are black but the pupil is white. You know, that emoji.
Speaking of: if anyone's looking for collaborators, hit me up! Superboy's going to be running through a solo miniseries in the background but he can easily be in two places at once. Comic book time and all that.
SEASON ONE Sensation & Wonder
SUPERBOY #1 Pull My Strings

Midtown Metropolis, Delaware

A boy stands on the ledge of a skyscraper. There's eight hundred feet of open air between him and the street below. People are hanging out of windows just a few floors down, shouting up at him, but he pays no mind. All there is in the world is him. Him and the ledge. He takes in one last breath-- deep, full. And he steps off.

People scream from their offices as he falls past them. A few reach out. Wind rushes in his ears as he picks up speed. Faster and faster the ground approaches. Shapes come into view: cars are stopped in the road, and crowds of people are pouring out to watch. They're all roars and screams; some pointing, others filming. Its fascinating to watch them react from all the way up here for what little time he had. It took the average adult about eight seconds to fall eight hundred feet. He'd be approaching a hundred and ten miles an hour by the time he reached the bottom.

Seconds could pass by so slowly sometimes. His senses flared, taking in information at incredible speeds. His heart thumped against his chest. Pulse was racing. Adrenaline kicked through his system: blood flowed faster into his muscles, his pupils dilated, and he could feel each tick of his blood sugar level rising.

'Wonder what they'd do if I let myself splat against the concrete?' A grin crept across his face. Falling faster, now. 'Might even survive. Might just pull myself outta the crater, like I'm Wile-E-frickin'-Coyote.'

He could see it now. That single, fraction of a moment where the whole crowd goes quiet. Nobody's moving, they're all holding a collective breath. A wave of confusion turns to panic. Its a win-win, really: he's either a smear on the pavement or he gets to watch the circus. Imagine the blood vessel that Leech would pop when he found out! The man'd probably go feral in his ravings- blood running down his brow, all that foam on his lips and spittle flying everywhere. That alone would be worth the price of admission.

A fun fantasy to fill the dead air time, but it couldn't last. Superboy had work to do.

Unseen hands grasped every inch of his body, arresting its momentum. His stomach turned upside down. He stopped mid-air less than a foot over a sea of bobbing heads. Their panic turned to excited yells. Fingers brushed against him as people leapt up, climbed atop one another and even some poor guy's car just to get a chance to touch him. Superboy glided forward, letting his hands run along under him. He must've gotten a hundred high fives before he broke off, gaining altitude.

People ran underneath him, trying to keep up. They'd chase him right into oncoming traffic if he let them. Had to shake 'em.

With one last wave to his adoring fans, he hit the throttle, and shot off like a rocket. Up, up and away. Metropolis flew by him, a blur of steel and glass and colorful advertisements. People crossing sidewalks below him were small as ants from this high up, yet he could see every detail: a woman's locket, aged enough to belong to her mother before her; two men walking side by side, hands grazing each other too often for it to be an accident.

He could hear the whole world beneath him, too. Conversations flew by like they were standing just beside him. Cars honked so loud it sounded like it came from inside his skull. An old man was lying to his grandson about his time in the war so he sounded more exciting. Some kids were arguing about a three-way tie in rock, paper, scissors. A couple were considering divorce.

A million lives played out in front of him. A million snapshots of individual existences, giving him just a little peek into so many souls. Truth be told he could spend the whole day up here, witness to lives he could only understand in the abstract. What was it like to struggle to pay bills? To skip school with your best friend and do nothing at all with the time? How'd it feel to embrace someone you loved after a day apart?

Superboy could fly to the moon any day he pleased, but this-

His head swivels toward something on the other side of town. An alarm, followed by screams and shouting. A well timed distraction if there'd ever been one.

"...Now that sounds like a job for Superboy."


Hob's Bay Metropolis, Delaware



A barrage of bullets peppered Superboy's chest. Robbed of their lethality by the telekinetic field surrounding his body, they barely registered as an annoyance. He approached the shooter with a sway to his hips and a jump in his step. "...But I got a hot date later." A blur, faster than lightning, and the gun was flying through the air in pieces. Another hand went for the man's collar, slower this time.

Camera drones rotated around the bank lobby. They were filming the whole event in a higher resolution than the human eye could perceive. Footage was being uploaded to CADMUS's servers for editing less than a fraction of a second behind real time. Superboy pressed his face against he would-be robber in his grip, a shit-eating grin on his face; the other man glanced between his captor and the drone, less than pleased to be on TV. "You guys really oughta know by now: Metropolis? Its my town, n' I don't tolerate this sorta wanton violence here."

With a twist of his wrist, Superboy sent the gunman flying head-over-heels through the glass pane the bank tellers were cowering behind. His momentum kept him tumbling until he crashed into the far wall. There was no getting back up after that.

Two of his compatriots wheeled their rifles around, hoping their combined firepower would slow their metahuman attacker down. They didn't have a snowballs chance in hell. The first of the pair found himself wrapped into a human ball, tossed through the front door and into the side of their getaway car. The second's head took a dive into an indoor potted plant.

Superboy danced to an unheard beat. It was quick work disabling the rest of the crew, as most were either attempting to flee or ready to surrender. Much of his attention was on working the crowd that'd formed outside the bank, and giving his best side to the cameras. By now he had this routine down to a science: disable the threats, give some stupid, cheesy lines, and pose for a few photos in-between. This had been the last four months of his life- this, and media touring on his 'off days'. Truth be told he was bored to tears. The cops could've stopped a crime like this. Somebody might've gotten shot in the process, sure, but Supes wasn't exactly collateral damage free. It all just felt so...

Pointless?

The crew was rounded up and restrained on the steps of the bank. A crowd of passersby, former hostages and reporters had gathered around. They asked questions he'd memorized the answers to. Ran up to pose with him for pictures. He did his best to ignore the few who looked shaken by the event- shit was too real for the cameras. Maybe for him, too.

"Now, now folks, I told these guys I had a date later..." An idea tingled at the back of his mind. His heart started to beat faster as an idea turned to a certainty. "...And I don't want anybody callin' me a liar. So, who here's free?"

Oh man, his manager was going to kill him later.

B A T W O M A N
B A T W O M A N

"Revenge never heals what's broken. We know all about that, don't we, Bats?"
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
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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
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Barbara Joan Gordon
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Caucasian | Psychiatrist |
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Gotham City | NJ | United States of America

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
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P O S T C A T A L O G
P O S T C A T A L O G
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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
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Barbara was only a teenager when her younger brother put a bullet through her spine. Little James would flee into the night, going on to kill other redheaded women in some twisted retribution for their mother walking out on them. Barbara, though? She was stuck. Stuck without the use of her legs. Stuck with the memory of that attack- recalled in perfect, horrid accuracy. A wealthy, anonymous donor threw her a lifeline, spending a fortune on an experimental procedure and the months of intensive recovery that followed. Every step was agony. The memory of that moment kept her going...the memory, and what she dreamed of doing when she finally caught her brother.

A crawl turned to a run turned to a leap. She didn't just return to her old self. Babs was better, stronger. Driven with a purpose few could match, Barbara donned a costume bearing Gotham's premier symbol of vengeance- justice- and went on the hunt. She would've killed James that night if Batman hadn't been there to turn her gaze from the abyss.

Nearly a decade's past since. As Batgirl she's fought every villain in Gotham, tangled with aliens alongside the Justice League, and gone on to help train a few bats and robins of her own. As Barbara Gordon, she's working on her doctorate in Forensic Psychiatry and found work in Arkham Asylum of all places. She hasn't quite hung up the cape, though her newfound career takes precedent: she's come to believe an outreached hand does more to help Gotham in the long run than a closed fist to the nose. Its been a hard, storied road, but the end's not yet in sight. Not for Batwoman.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
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Following the example set by MB, I wanted to explore a version of Barbara Gordon that was allowed to grow up. Most comic book characters are stuck in a temporal loop, never allowed to evolve much beyond their original conception- I think that's lame as hell, but it also provides an opportunity to explore those futures in games like this one.

This Babs has lived a full life as a costumed vigilante already, and while she hasn't retired yet, its becoming a less and less prominent aspect of her life. She only puts on the costume when circumstances require it; its a 'break glass in case of emergency' option that she's growing less fond of each time she goes out. She feels quite strongly that she does the best work for the future of Gotham as a psychiatrist, curbing the worst impulses of her patients and offering a second chance to those that want it. In her mind, Batman's methods don't offer much in the long run save for broken bones and a festering grudge.

She loves and respects the man for all he's done for her. That won't change. There is, however, an undeniably tension between the two, as Barbara has made her disagreements with him very clear.

I'm hoping to play a supportive role in the arcs centered in Gotham, offering a helping hand and a different perspective to the rest of the Batfam. A bit of character drama and tension always makes things spicier, too. Bab's direction in the future would depend a lot on what happens IC, and there's a possibility of her upgrading to a roaming role.

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
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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
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Subject 13-B04
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Human/Kryptonian Hybrid Clone | Superhero
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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
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P O S T C A T A L O G
P O S T C A T A L O G
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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
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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 )
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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
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S E A S O N 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

<Snipped quote by Cybermaxx>

I hate you.


john,,.
<snipped sheet>


Well well well, how the tables (john tables) turn, another sheet
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