Supermaxx

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: City Streets -- City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Graves' skull was a pressure cooker seconds from exploding. A high-pitched, piercing wail filled his ears. It felt like someone was pressing their thumbs into his eyes from in his head. Every inch of his body shook from the overdose of adrenaline flooding his veins. When his assault began the look on his face was one of indignant rage: a desire to get one back on someone that had hurt him. Now, as he wheeled on Seele, marching toward her with malicious intent, his face was a mix of confusion and sheer, unadulterated rapture. Every strike from Siegfried sent a pulse of delight through him. Every time Graves blade kissed flesh he was practically giddy with glee. The smell of blood filled his nostrils, urging him onward.

It was the best high of his fuckin' life.

This was how Graves' magic worked in practice: he needed to either cause or endure pain enough to make blood flow. No sane human being would ever throw themselves into harms way like that without radically altering their natural instinct toward self-preservation- so that's precisely what Graves' mentor taught him what to do. Dark magic turned what ought to have been pain to pleasure. It sent waves of dopamine and serotonin into his brain every time it registered the scent of blood. Most pedestrian drugs with this level of intensity would've fried his nerve clusters eventually.

Most of those drugs didn't come packed with a healing factor.

The strength was stripped from his arms as Seele desperately worked her magic. He could hear the unnerving, unintelligible whispers that came with her hexes. That ravenous thing in his chest saw it as further excuse to...neutralize her.

Somewhere in the depths of his mind Andrew knew this was wrong. He needed to stop himself. Needed to fight the urge to fill his base, ugly needs before he hurt someone. Before he hurt Missy.

'Please, God, stop. Please.'

_{Let it happen.}

'Just fucking stop yourself already.'

_{It'll be over sooner if you just let go.}

"P-please..." Graves managed the barest of whispers, stiffled between sucking coughs.

_{Not like they'll forgive this anyway. Might as well let it ride.}

For the briefest moment Graves stopped swinging down at Siegfried. He held the knife in the air over him, staring down into the boy's eyes with a glassy, indeterminate ecstasy. His hand shaking nigh-uncontrollably, he turned the blade around in his palm until it was facing inward- and jabbed it down into his chest, just under the clavicle. A pained roar ate at his throat as he pulled the weapon free only to slam it back into place in the same place again, and then a third time, until finally he struck the right section of nerves for his fingers to go limp. The knife clattered to the floor and Graves stumbled onto a knee.

He couldn't even look Siegfried in the face as he muttered to him: "E-end...it."

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: City Streets -- City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Graves fought with the speed and ferocity of a feral animal. He flung himself at Siegfried without a moment's hesitation- no prodding at his defenses, no harsh words, no final chance to solve this amicably. Sig had his chance to back down. Had his chance to swallow that last barb and walk away. But he'd known just where to shove the knife to piss Graves off and he'd taken the stab. Now it'd cost him, perhaps dearly.

The blade danced in the air in wild, unpredictable arcs. It would dash forward as if to strike only to flutter away and leave an opening for a gaunleted fist to slam into whatever opening it had exposed. Never let up. Never give him a moment to breathe. Keep stepping forward into his space, always forcing the retreat. If Sig stopped he'd get a knife in the gut.

There's a tight cluster of blood vessels just above the eye. A quick, surface level slash would send a gush of crimson flowing into a man's eyes. The shoulder socket was a ripe target, too: a good few inches in and he'd sever the axillary artery and damage the nerve cluster that controlled the arm, paralyzing it. Stab through the inner thigh, targeting the femoral nerve to lock his hips in place. Graves knew every inch of the human body. Knew just where to cut to break it. If he'd wanted, he could kill Siegfried right there with one flick of his wrist.

_{Feint with the knife. Draw attention away from other hand. Slash the jugular. Watch him fucking die-}

It took all his willpower to drown out that ravenous little thing in his chest. No killing blows. Nothing that would paralyze him. Just small, light cuts. Make him bleed. Make him hurt. Never more than that. The blade was more of a distraction, anyway; amateur duelists always focused on their opponent's weapon rather than their stance. You could always tell what someone was planning to do based on how they stood, how they planted their feet or rotated their hips. Graves had fought more player than Sieg had probably even seen. He'd danced with the masters of the art and proved himself worthy time and time again. Dungeon delving and slaying monsters was fun, to be sure, but this?

This was his profession.

_{'Not doing real damage. He's shielded. The girl.'}

Seele, still playing hero even now. It made his blood boil watching her protect the man that so obviously didn't give a shit if she lived or died. That so callously mocked her potential brutal murder. All she wanted was to help people. Save lives. And this is the thanks she gets from spineless, gutless little rats like Sig.

_{'Supports are the backbone of a party. Tear them apart and their allies crumble.'}

Why did she insist on protecting him? This was a lesson he needed to learn. He needed a dose of humility- of respect- beaten into his fragile skull.

_{'You can't stop him until she's dealt with.'}

How could he possibly convince her? She wouldn't understand. Couldn't.

_{'She trusts you implicitly. You'd be on her before she even knows what's happening. It'd be quick.'}

What?

_{'She's weak.} Why the fuck was he thinking- _{Strike the temple and she crumples.'} Couldn't get it out of his- _{'She won't even feel it.'}

He felt himself slipping further. The pounding sound of blood in his ears was rising to a crescendo. He cut deeper. Struck harder. His heart beat inside his throat. He hadn't realized he was losing control until it was gone. Until he shoved Siegfried back and rounded on Seele.

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Laughing Worg Tavern -- City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

That ravenous thing in Graves’ chest thrummed with anticipation at the coming feeding. It could taste the blood in the air before it’d even been spilled, drawing Graves toward Sieg like a mad dog pulling at its leash. The man was moments from bounding across the tavern and tearing into Siegfried’s back when he felt something pull him back. Something strong, determined. He was surprised when he saw Seele ‘round his arm.

Though her words were whispered they carried the weight of her intent in them. She all but pleaded for him to not go through with this. Sig shouldn’t be the focus of his anger. Graves shouldn’t rise to his taunts. Be the better person. It was all shit he’d heard before and gotten far too used to ignoring. But something about the look in her eye- the way she threatened to hold him down herself- gave him pause.

‘Maybe she’s-‘

That line of thought came to a violently abrupt halt when he heard the last of Sig’s taunts from across the room.

“Might be the last time you see her. Should probably think about that.”

Simmering anger turned to a boil. It filled his chest, his throat and his face with heat. Blood pounded in his ears, thundering like a drum. If Seele said anything else he didn’t hear it. His vision was darkening. Control slipping away. That little voice in the depths of his guts screamed in exhilaration, demanding its tithe of blood. And Graves was glad to indulge it.

The knife left it’s sheathe on his hip in a quick, fluid motion. He ran it along the length of his arm- careful to avoid Seele’s fingers- cutting away his sleeve and tearing a deep groove in his flesh until it was drenched in crimson. It flowed along his body, writhing like some living thing, until it came to rest around his fist like a bloody gauntlet. The pain only enticed him further.

Graves barely registered that he was doing anything as he lifted his arm to toss Seele away. His mind was consumed by the desire to tear Siegfried apart for- for what?- for everything. For everything he’d said. Everything he’d done. Everything he hadn’t.

Knife in one hand and red iron wrapped ‘round the other, he charged out the door and into the street.

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Laughing Worg Tavern -- City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

There'd been a lot of arguments since the group came back to Thorinn. Tensions were high. Voices were raised. Sometimes shit got broken. But at the end of the day Seele or someone would step in and ensure nobody crossed the line- nobody put their hands on each other, no friendships were broken beyond repair. Graves was ordinarily fine with that. He was fine getting his point across n' letting bygones be bygones afterward. But Siegfried always pushed too far. Always knew just what buttons to press. Was a lot like Kazuki, in that way, except Kazuki always avoided the one thing that'd get his throat wrung:

He never went after Graves' ego.

It didn't take much to shove passed Seele. She was short, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. The only reason she'd ever stopped him before was because he allowed it. That last snipe from Sieg took hold of him like a viper. Graves stepped forward, one hand grasping Seele by the arm so she didn't fall on her ass. With determination in his step he followed after Siegfried, headed for the door. "Little goddamn brat. I can't keep 'em safe, is that it? Think you can do my job better n' me? You tell me somethin', Sig, who's party did we bury?"

A hand went down to the knife sheathed at his hip. "You got somethin' to prove. How 'bout we step outside n' fuckin' settle this?"

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Laughing Worg Tavern -- City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

"You won't allow it?" Graves scoffed. The idea that Siegfried had any goddamn say over what they did was laughable. He'd said his piece and they'd out-voted him; that should've been it. But Sig had the gall to stare Graves in the eye and pretend he could, what, intimidate him into changing his mind? As Graves thought about it, in fact, he felt a laugh broil in his throat. It was a harsh thing, one laced with contempt rather than humor.

He felt himself begin to rise to his feet, eye contact never wavering. "She knows the risk- we all do. Last time we discussed this I thought we'd settled on actually doin' somethin' instead of hidin' away in this tavern until it burns down around us." This was a simple thing in Graves's mind: if Thorinn was safe, his people were safe. So long as these assholes were running around there was always a chance Alex or Seele or any of the rest could get nabbed- and there wasn't a thing Graves could do about it. But this gave him agency. Here, he'd be right behind Seele. Here, he'd be able to look those bastards in the eye and give 'em what they deserved.

Emboldened by his own sureness in his beliefs, Graves' choler rose. "You think you get to decide what's allowed? All due respect, you can either get in line or get outta the fuckin' way."

One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay

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 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ PULL MY STRINGS ◼ Superboy #1 ◼ Superboy #2 ◼ Superboy #3 ◼ Superboy #4 ◼ Superboy #5 ◼ Superboy #6 ◼ Superboy #7 ◼ Superboy #8 BROKEN BOY ◼ Superboy #9 -

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 ________________________________________________________________________________________ Six months ago, Superboy was created by CADMUS using the stolen DNA of the Man of Steel. Dr. Paul Westfield- an immortal genius from aeons passed- envisioned the boy as the first soldier in an army of genetically modified superhumans to act as a bulwark for humanity against the many threats bearing down on it from beyond the veil. Superboy was designed with the sole purpose of selling this idea to the powers that be and, eventually, the general public. His rise was meteoric. Guided by his handler, Rex Leech, he appeared on every form of media known to man: from interviews with the Daily Bugle and G. Gordon Godfrey to starring in his own reality TV show, Behind the S. Every moment of his life that wouldn't compromise CADMUS's secrets has been recorded for all the world to see: every battle, every date, every vulnerable moment- broadcast in high definition. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) ________________________________________________________________________________________ This iteration of Superboy is a semi-continuation of my previous run on him in Sensation & Wonder. I liked what I was doing with the character and still have plenty of ideas for future arcs. I'll still be touching on the same themes as I was before: portraying Superboy (and superheroes in general) as analogies for celebrities and influencers, and tackling the traditional struggle with legacy that's so central to Superboy's character. Given that some aspects of the previous game are no longer canon, one can look at those posts as painting a broad rather than specific picture of prior events. T H E A D V E N T U R E S O F S U P E R B O Y ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ S E A S O N 0 2 BROKEN BOY Superboy discovers just how little control he really has. Characters Involved: Guardian, Knockout, Tana Moon, Dr. Paul Westfield Desired # of Players: N/A

---

Sample Post

_{SEASON TWO One Universe: Unlimited}

SUPERBOY #0 Broken Boy

---

_{3,562 feet up ♦ Metropolis}

Superboy hovered three and a half thousand feet over the city of Metropolis. His city, ever since the big guy up and abandoned his post for reasons the world would never know. The weight of responsibility had never felt so heavy. Tension roiled all the way from his fingers to his feet. His back was knotted, stiff. An intense pain gnawed inside his chest. He let out a deep, unsteady breath, and tried to relax. Tried to let his limbs fall limp and his heartrate slow.

It didn't take.

The wind cracked like thunder as it whipped around his head. An airplane roared by a few thousand feet above him. And there was, too, the ever-present cacophony coming from the streets below. He could barely hear his own thoughts with everything ringing in his ears this close to the earth. Usually, if Superboy wanted a moment's peace, he'd soar far higher. He'd fly until and the blues, whites and greys of the sky turned to the stark black of space. It was quiet up there. It was the only place that was quiet, really.

But the thought of being that high up made his stomach churn. His wounds- barely a week old- seemed to tear themselves anew at even the thought of entering the thermosphere. That awful moment played back in his mind in perfect clarity.

" I want you to...fly up into orbit and let yourself fall."

All Westfield did was mutter a few, half-hearted words, and Superboy was gone. His consciousness arrested within his own body, severed from all control. Forced to watch from behind his eyes as he flew higher and higher to a place he'd once called his haven. He fought so goddamn hard to stay there. To clench his fist. To cry out for help.

But he couldn't.

And then he started to fall.

Superboy wasn't sure which was worse: the fall itself, or the impact. The latter brought the pain, of course. It broke him. Severed muscles in his back and snapped his arm in twain. Multiple ribs collapsed like twigs under a boot. A pierced lung. He could still recall the warm taste of blood flowing into his mouth and throat as he tried to breathe.

But the terror that had seized him on the way down- that choking fog of helplessness- is what kept him up at night. It was all he dreamt of now, and he couldn't fly any higher than four thousand feet into the air without fear dragging him back down to the earth.

'Coward,' He sneered. 'You think you can step up to the plate for Supes and you're afraid of frickin' heights.'

It took all his strength to hold back the flood of panic and anxiety. No time for this. No time to throw a pity-party for the poor little clone. Everything that'd happened was squarely his own damn fault. He'd gone after Knockout without a second thought. He'd torn Suicide Slum apart to sate his own ego. And he was the one who'd gotten the brilliant idea of bringing a civilian into all this.

Pain shot through his heart at the thought of Tana Moon, that brave, stupid intern at the Daily Planet he'd dragged into CADMUS's line of fire. He thought the Planet could help him uncover the heinous shit the company was up to. That paper had brought down titans of industry, mob bosses, supervillains- they were the only ones he thought he could bring his story to.

But he didn't talk to Perry White, or Lois Lane. He talked to an intern. He told her far more than was safe and then, when she wanted to take it public, he'd panicked. Clambered on back to Westfield because he thought he could figure it out himself.

He'd led CADMUS's cleaners right to her.

Because of him that girl was gone. Maybe dead. Maybe held in a black site somewhere.

'Gotta find out where they took her. My mistake, my responsibility. Better than sittin' here wallowin'.'

One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay

Sample's up!

One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay

Bro Clark needs a hug, fr fr

One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay

WIP Character Sheet

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 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ PULL MY STRINGS ◼ Superboy #1 ◼ Superboy #2 ◼ Superboy #3 ◼ Superboy #4 ◼ Superboy #5 ◼ Superboy #6 ◼ Superboy #7 ◼ Superboy #8 BROKEN BOY ◼ Superboy #9 -

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 ________________________________________________________________________________________ Six months ago, Superboy was created by CADMUS using the stolen DNA of the Man of Steel. Dr. Paul Westfield- an immortal genius from aeons passed- envisioned the boy as the first soldier in an army of genetically modified superhumans to act as a bulwark for humanity against the many threats bearing down on it from beyond the veil. Superboy was designed with the sole purpose of selling this idea to the powers that be and, eventually, the general public. His rise was meteoric. Guided by his handler, Rex Leech, he appeared on every form of media known to man: from interviews with the Daily Bugle and G. Gordon Godfrey to starring in his own reality TV show, Behind the S. Every moment of his life that wouldn't compromise CADMUS's secrets has been recorded for all the world to see: every battle, every date, every vulnerable moment- broadcast in high definition. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) ________________________________________________________________________________________ This iteration of Superboy is a semi-continuation of my previous run on him in Sensation & Wonder. I liked what I was doing with the character and still have plenty of ideas for future arcs. I'll still be touching on the same themes as I was before: portraying Superboy (and superheroes in general) as analogies for celebrities and influencers, and tackling the traditional struggle with legacy that's so central to Superboy's character. Given that some aspects of the previous game are no longer canon, one can look at those posts as painting a broad rather than specific picture of prior events. T H E A D V E N T U R E S O F S U P E R B O Y ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ S E A S O N 0 2 BROKEN BOY Superboy discovers just how little control he really has. Characters Involved: Guardian, Knockout, Tana Moon, Dr. Paul Westfield Desired # of Players: N/A

---

Sample Post

_{SEASON TWO One Universe: Unlimited}

SUPERBOY #0 Broken Boy

---

_{3,562 feet up ♦ Metropolis}

Superboy hovered three and a half thousand feet over the city of Metropolis. His city, ever since the big guy up and abandoned his post for reasons the world would never know. The weight of responsibility had never felt so heavy. Tension roiled all the way from his fingers to his feet. His back was knotted, stiff. An intense pain gnawed inside his chest. He let out a deep, unsteady breath, and tried to relax. Tried to let his limbs fall limp and his heartrate slow.

It didn't take.

The wind cracked like thunder as it whipped around his head. An airplane roared by a few thousand feet above him. And there was, too, the ever-present cacophony coming from the streets below. He could barely hear his own thoughts with everything ringing in his ears this close to the earth. Usually, if Superboy wanted a moment's peace, he'd soar far higher. He'd fly until and the blues, whites and greys of the sky turned to the stark black of space. It was quiet up there. It was the only place that was quiet, really.

But the thought of being that high up made his stomach churn. His wounds- barely a week old- seemed to tear themselves anew at even the thought of entering the thermosphere. That awful moment played back in his mind in perfect clarity.

" I want you to...fly up into orbit and let yourself fall."

All Westfield did was mutter a few, half-hearted words, and Superboy was gone. His consciousness arrested within his own body, severed from all control. Forced to watch from behind his eyes as he flew higher and higher to a place he'd once called his haven. He fought so goddamn hard to stay there. To clench his fist. To cry out for help.

But he couldn't.

And then he started to fall.

Superboy wasn't sure which was worse: the fall itself, or the impact. The latter brought the pain, of course. It broke him. Severed muscles in his back and snapped his arm in twain. Multiple ribs collapsed like twigs under a boot. A pierced lung. He could still recall the warm taste of blood flowing into his mouth and throat as he tried to breathe.

But the terror that had seized him on the way down- that choking fog of helplessness- is what kept him up at night. It was all he dreamt of now, and he couldn't fly any higher than four thousand feet into the air without fear dragging him back down to the earth.

'Coward,' He sneered. 'You think you can step up to the plate for Supes and you're afraid of frickin' heights.'

It took all his strength to hold back the flood of panic and anxiety. No time for this. No time to throw a pity-party for the poor little clone. Everything that'd happened was squarely his own damn fault. He'd gone after Knockout without a second thought. He'd torn Suicide Slum apart to sate his own ego. And he was the one who'd gotten the brilliant idea of bringing a civilian into all this.

Pain shot through his heart at the thought of Tana Moon, that brave, stupid intern at the Daily Planet he'd dragged into CADMUS's line of fire. He thought the Planet could help him uncover the heinous shit the company was up to. That paper had brought down titans of industry, mob bosses, supervillains- they were the only ones he thought he could bring his story to.

But he didn't talk to Perry White, or Lois Lane. He talked to an intern. He told her far more than was safe and then, when she wanted to take it public, he'd panicked. Clambered on back to Westfield because he thought he could figure it out himself.

He'd led CADMUS's cleaners right to her.

Because of him that girl was gone. Maybe dead. Maybe held in a black site somewhere.

'Gotta find out where they took her. My mistake, my responsibility. Better than sittin' here wallowin'.'

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether