Teal

Suicide Squad: Fresh Meat.

In my mind, I've designed Robin to be related to Batman, but not Bruce Wayne. He's also trained by Natas, and they frequently work together, but he's not his homoerotic sidekick - they don't share the same roof. So, Catman's implication that he was cuffed by Batman and his family of superheroes could as well be a snide remark and still valid. I have steered away from the whole sidekick sub stories because I find them not very fit for characters like Batman and Deathstroke, even more so taking into account this RP is supposed to be grittier and more grounded.

The Gifted: A Fast Paced Superpower RP

Okay guys. There it is. Now, I'm done. I will still follow this RP's progression and see how you guys are doing, but I'm not gonna participate.

The Gifted: A Fast Paced Superpower RP

Fallen Son Out of all the junkies and the hookers roaming the parking lot of his 'favorite' hotel, Alec could single out two shady figures, afro-americans, dressed in baggy clothes and covered in blings. One of them had trimmed hair and a stubble which barely covered his narrow jaw. Alec recognized him - it was Jamal's handler, the one who supplied the supplier. Their first meeting was back in 2011, while he was under the now deceased gun runners payroll. Alec never went past the formalities, never got his name and never cared enough to do so. However, now, that he stands before him, he was actually interested. Interested to know what was the issue that brought him there. Upon getting out of his MRAP, a thought occurred in his mind, the thought that they were here to assassinate him as an act of retaliation for killing their man. The receptionist's paranoid behavior added more to his suspicion. Yet, he walked towards the duo with a steady pace, unwilling to reveal any sign of weakness. Jamal's gangbangers weren't smart enough to understand body language, but their strength lied in their numbers. Alec was willing to bet all his money that there was a battalion of them hiding in the hotel's lobby. In spite of his superb calculative skills, he still wanted to make sure he didn't misunderstand their motives. "Hello gentlemen.", Alec uttered, approaching the two. He extended his hand in a false friendly manner, but they didn't budge. They were obviously there strictly for business. What they didn't know is that so was Alec. "I take it you're the 'Hawk'.", Jamal's handler spoke in a crystal clear tone, dissimilar to the thick hood accent his acquaintance spat. He was obviously one of the higher-ups. "So I heard.", Miller responded in his monotone voice. "Well, Mr. Hawk, I'm here to give you bad news. You see, the runner you killed was secretly working under my organization's payroll. Actually, he played a key part in it. He was, to say, the right leg of my organization, and you severed that leg. Now, we're roaming around on wheelchairs. And while we're working to reclaim that leg, we thought it'd be a good idea to cut off the limbs of those you're working for. You know, an eye for an eye.", the OG finished. Alec wasn't misinterpreting anything; they were truly here to kill him, prompting the meta to formulate a quick plan. "Sorry to disappoint, pal, but the organization I work for is large. By killing me, you've done nothing but pulled a strand of hair.", the meta threw in a cold, efficient response, and a true one while at that. He couldn't let the gangsters cast the first stone, which is why he quickly pulled out his gun without warning. The handler let out a surprised face, then had his brain matter all over the place shortly after. His companion, who was standing to the right, tried to pull out his piece, but Alec was quicker, managing to land a shot on his neck. As soon as his sight caught the numerous gangbangers making their way out of the hotel's entrance, some even carrying tactical SWAT shields, Alec tapped into Cerebro; experimental, rapidly running to his vehicle as the .50 cal bullets whizzed past him. He jumped as much as he could, landing on top of the car's hood before sliding into cover. The Sand Cat was bulletproof, so he didn't have to worry about his shield being demolished. That being said, he still couldn't move out of cover or board the car, in fear of being riddled with bullets if he so much as tried to. His best option was to clear the area from the hostiles. He tapped into his Pentrative vision, able to see the enemy locations through the car without having the need to stick his head out of the hood. There were eight enemies, three of them carrying deployable shields. The moment one of them got out of cover to carry the lifeless body of his leader, Alec unloaded three bullets, two on his chest one in his head. There were still seven of them left, and the magazine he was carrying only had fifteen bullets. He was a sitting duck. Much to Alec's surprise, after a stream of gunfire, the attacks ceased. Via his penetrative vision, he could make out his assailants gesturing around, trying to find a feasible way to put a bullet to the meta's head after their run n'gun strategy proved fruitless. They split up, four of them went to the right, while the other three took the left wing. This gave the former-soldier a chance to pull out his Walther from the car. He tapped into Cerebro; experimental yet again, so as to assemble the gun quicker, feeling the energy being drained from him with every movement. He had no choice - he could either go with certain death, or push the timetable for another three months or so, until more remnants from his past emerged out to haunt him. The aging meta, upon assembling his Walther, peeked from the car's rear, taking a shot from a really close distance. The shot's force was marvelous, beheading two of the gang members in the process. The remaining two fired at Alec, but thanks to experimental mode - his ability to slow time down and boost himself up, he remained unscathed, able to effortlessly sneak up on them. He eliminated the first one by hitting him with the sniper's handle, sticking the barrel down his shirt and pulling the trigger down, his face covered in the assailant's blood minutes later. The second man, left with no mags for his assault rifle, pointed his pistol at Alec, with the latter swiftly disarming him from it and grabbing him from behind, now using the hitman as a human shield. The three gunmen that were flanking from the left, all equipped with tactical shields, aimed their sub-machine weapons at Lighthouse but couldn't shoot in fear of harming their buddy. In the other hand, blood started dripping from Alec's nose as a result of overusing Experimental mode. He still had some energy left, and he decided to make the most of it. Easily snapping the assailant's neck then shoving him to the side, Miller tapped into Cerebro; experimental yet again. He grabbed the dead gangster's gun, unholstered his own, and then, in a fit of rage, began to unleash a barrage of bullets towards the well-equipped assassins as they dropped down until there was none left. Now that the coast was clear, Alec dropped down to the ground, coughing and dripping blood from his orifices. His sight got blurry, his heart started beating twice as fast and his face got pale. He was drained, but he'd live. Even though the parking lot was clear, there was one loose end which he had to tie up. The receptionist. It was undoubtedly him who tipped off the OGs, and his betrayal wouldn't slip unpunished. Alec entered the motel's premises, specifically the lobby, inaudibly cursing as he did so. He pointed his weapon at the gridiron and ordered the man to come out. But, much to his surprise, instead of complying, the man snuck a double barreled shotgun down the square opening, blasting Miller away but not before he could get three pistols shots on the overweight man's chest. He was then facing the ceiling, unable to lift his head or do any kind of motion. It marked the first time Alec ever had the chance to reflect about his life, to think about something other than work. At his final moments, he realized he wasn't ready to go, not because he feared death, or because he feared his death would go unrecognized - no, men like him have their ashes cremated and thrown into the sea. His main regret, among others, was that after all this time, he still couldn't make amends with his only family left, a little sister with which he shared fourteen years of age difference. She had no idea that her older brother was alive, told that he died somewhere in T'Bilisi, back in 2008. And she would never learn. That didn't matter anymore, though. His sight, everything that was laying before him, it was slowly fading. His eyelids became heavier by the second, until - eventually - they closed.

Disconnected; The Perks of Being Insane

"No, no, no, nothing of note. It's just that it seems to me mocking them has become quite trendy around." Ethan groused awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with Steph. It was funny how the tables flipped. Their meeting started with the girl being the shy one, and now that she finally got out of her cocoon, it's the noisy, most likely bipolar, kid who's deprived of words. Realizing that his behavior might feel overwhelming, he snuck a passing smirk at Stephanie before adding more to his response. "I, like you, think it's pretty cool too. You know, having the power to play God, even if for a short amount of time. Who wouldn't want that?", Ethan finished, ending his declaration with a rhetorical question. He then shifted his gaze at the door to where the duo was heading - the Art Class, renowned for being the quietest of all. Not all the students were reserved like Stephanie, but they were, at the very least, reasonable. To say that it's common for Art enthusiasts to be far more educated, is not an overstatement. It probably has something to do with their high levels of creativity As soon as creativity sprung to Ethan's mind, he veered his sight towards Steph, gazing at her in awe. "I bet my lunch money you'd learn Disconnecting in a matter of months. I heard it's possible through mental training and meditation, but that only people with a creative bone can pull it off. I've seen your work, and I'll be damned if creative is not the right word for you. Have you ever thought of giving it a shot?", the boy pronounced excitedly. Since most of the Disconnectors are either closeted or well-known celebrities, he never had a partner to share his ideas with. If, however, Steph was to become one, now that they've finally developed a stable friendship, they could each share their thoughts to each other without the need of words. Of course, he wasn't planning on pushing her to do something against her will. If anything, it was just a mild suggestion.

Suicide Squad: Fresh Meat.

"We're still working on it. Not everyone can run at the speed of light, Roadster.", was Slade's response to Zoom's question about whether they had secured transport yet. His bountiful exchange of words with The Cat had kept the team behind schedule, something he should have foreseen. Slade was renowned for being calculative and thinking ahead of time, but for some reason, his behavior turned more volatile during his brief stay in Belle Reve. It could've been the sedatives, or the fact that his imprisonment caused a dent in his reputation, a reputation which he values. Or perhaps, it could just be Catman's incoherent rambling which managed to agitate him. He wasn't certain, and he didn't have enough time to be. As more armed guards made their way inside the site, Slade threw a glance at Boomer and Ravager. "I'm going to pull one of them for interrogation. Cover me.", he said, rapidly switching covers as the bullets whizzed past him. Using his cunning and deadly abilities, he managed to get close to a unit of six of the prison's official lackeys, pulling out his dual pistols. In a surprise attack, he shot four of them down, deciding to subjugate the remaining two in a far more amusing method - his dual pistols now holstered, the One-Eyed Mercenary swiftly dodged one of the guard's horizontal knife slash, before removing the shiv out of his hand and violently stabbing it up his throat, blood gurgling down from it. The last guard was only left with his pistol, desperately trying to put a bullet in Slade's head, but to no avail. The latter uses the body of his dead colleague as a human shield, before finally letting go of it and lunging at the guardian, effectively disarming and pinning him down to the ground. "We don't have much time here kiddo, so you just tell me about the APCs and I'll make your death less painful.", Slade remarked, increasing his tone so as to avoid his voice getting muffled by the firefight. The guard's mouth remained shut. Upon seeing that he's not gonna co-operate, Deathstroke grabbed the pistol from his holster and shot the already wounded man in the leg, provoking a blood curdling scream by his side. "Okay, okay. It's in the Hangar, adjacent to the weapon storage!", the man let out a response, grunting from the pain as he did so. With no time left to waste, the Merc. punched the guard, immediately knocking him out, before gesturing Boomer and Ravager to follow him.

Suicide Squad: Fresh Meat.

Good to see you haven't bailed out DSW. Working on a post ASAP. Done! Oh, and, I asked DSW if I could work on revising the story of some of this universe's NPC characters (which will make an appearance later), and he gave me the green light. So far, I've only worked on Batman. I'm currently working on Superman and Doomsday. I showed him the Batman CS and he said it was acceptable, but I still want your opinion, since after all, you're part of this RP too.

"Batman" [+]

Full Name: Bruce Wayne Alias: His official superhero name is Batman, but he's called differently in different places. Gotham's underground refers to him as The Bat, while the media usually uses names such as The Dark Knight or The Gotham Knight. Date of Birth: 20th of November, 1982. Appearance: Bruce Wayne, Gotham's playboy billionaire, is, as you would expect from a ladies man,rather handsome. He stands at 6'2 and weighs around 207 pounds, possessing a well built body as a result of undergoing grueling training abroad. He has a pair of piercing blue eyes and is often seen wearing a business suit in public. When he's at home, he favors sweatpants and XXXL t-shirts so as to make himself more comfortable. Bruce, during his period as a crime fighter, made several major changes to his suit. His original suit was functional at best. It surely didn't emit a Bat vibe, serving more as a simplified, temporary accessory that would help him cover his identity until he came up with something better. After a couple of months, he finally came up with the idea of Batman - a cruel reminder of a tragic past event in Gotham - this time bearing a Kevlar Bat-themed suit, infused with highly resistant fibers that would shield him from bullets and would give him a fighting chance against .50 caliber ones. The suit held itself pretty well, but overtime, Bruce's safety concerns raised. His final suit stripped him off the several human elements his old suit bore, in favor of giving him the upper hand in the battle. Practically, it's not even a suit any more - it's an armor, equipped with cutting edge technology like night and thermal vision, different kinds of shuriken-like weapons called 'batarangs', each one serving a specific purpose and last but not least - the whistler; a long-range remote device which allows Bruce to designate a path for his precious Batmobile and/or Batwing if he ever needs to bail out of a sticky situation. History: Bruce was born to the rich and famous Wayne Family, founders of Wayne Corporation and the benefactors behind a load of charity events, including the Wayne Orphanage. Simply put, he was part of a dream family, or that's what people thought. Bruce's mother, Martha Wayne, was set to have twins, but due to complications that occurred, she passed away before she could give birth to Bruce's would-be twin brother. At first, it was unknown what caused the aforementioned complications, but further investigations revealed that Hugo Strange, a doctor whom was employed by Thomas as the only caretaker in the Orphanage had injected a pregnant Martha with a sample of Slade Wilson's blood without her husband's consent. He was brutally murdered by Slade himself before the GCPD could put him to custody. After having the unwanted privilege of watching his beloved wife die a horrible death, Thomas fell into depression. His diary revealed that he attempted to kill himself more than once, but each time he was saved by his infant's son cries, who in a way gave him a reason to live. He managed his way out of depression and made it his life goal to raise Bruce properly. Sadly, he couldn't fulfill that goal, as he was killed during a tragic event called the Man-Bat Outbreak, which involved a lot of mindless mutant bat-like beasts emerging from Arkham and wrecking havoc over Gotham. The same event was also responsible for giving the young Wayne a severe bat phobia. An orphaned Bruce, stripped off his childhood, was assigned to undergo grueling training since the age of ten, being held under the supervision of The Wayne family's personal butler and former-MI6 operative Alfred Pennyworth and his acquaintance, an assassin who went by the codename Natas, real name unknown. Up until the age of eighteen, he was secretly trained by Natas and often participated in clandestine tournaments, nailing the first prize. Although it was never confirmed, it's widely believed that his ability to master whatever martial art in a period of one week stemmed from the metahuman blood his mother was injected with. At the age of twenty, Bruce finally decided to fight crime, employing a simplified version of the Bat suit and embracing the 'Masked Man' persona. However, at a visit at his parent's grave, Wayne was attacked by an unknown assailant who, oddly enough, emerged from Martha's grave. That led him to address his suit's flaws for the first time and conduct an investigation to discover the assailant's identity. Turns out while the injection killed Martha Wayne, it kept the second boy, Bruce's twin brother who was arranged to be named Thomas Wayne Jr., alive and well but imprisoned in a grave, several feet down on the ground. He only survived thanks to the injection's effect, who had a broader result on him than Bruce, for some unexplained reason. The twin didn't share Bruce's passion to fight crime, and instead developed a villainous persona under Ra's Al Ghul's tutelage, a villain called Hush, a clear reference to his inability to speak. He often tried to impersonate Bruce, but his cover got blown in all occasions. Further study showed that the Man-Bat incident had a great effect on the underground community, stirring fear and angst when so much as mentioned. He used that information to overcome his fear of bats and finally descend down the Bat-infested storage down the Wayne Manor, where he also built his Bat suit. In his beginnings as Batman, he didn't care as much for his safety as long as there were no civilian casualties and no collateral damage around, but as he ascended into his early thirties, he got more attentive to details. A 30 year old Bruce decided to retire his playboy facade shortly afterwards, and settled down with a TV reporter named Vicky Vale, whom he'd been dating for a while. He revealed his secret identity to her, making her the third person to know the Batman-Bruce Wayne link, right besides Alfred and Natas. His crimefighting career didn't cease, but he did become more careful, going as far as to build a new Bat armor that would spare him of danger. That marked the first time Bruce ever felt like he had something to lose. Power/Abilities: Genius Intellect: Bruce is a superb strategist, able to even predict the trajectory of a bullet and dodge it. He is also very adaptable, his mastery of Keysi, Muay Thai and Krav Maga being enough to prove that. With enough preparation, Bruce can even dismantle a legion of tanks. It's widely believed that some of his abilities came from the injection, but it's not confirmed. Phyiscal Fitness: Bruce is at the peak of human capabilities. The inhuman training Natas forced him to undergo gave him a toned body and enough power to hold his own against colossal fighters like Bane and Grundy. Cutting-edge equipment: Batman possesses a plethora of batarangs, each one serving different purposes. There's the smoke batarang, which emits smoke once it sticks to a surface. Incendiary batarang, designed to cause fires. Explosive batarang, designed to release a narrow explosive burst and the EMP batarang, which disables communications for twenty seconds or so. His Batmobile is built with an auto-pilot function, two cannons, the first which can be calibrated to throw smoke grenades OR knock out rounds and the second, which shoots heat-seeking missiles, only used to destroy enemy hardware. The Batwing is also designed with the same functions, and an exclusive addition; a grapple hook used to lift targets up. There's also his armor, which is highly-resistant to bullets, even .50 caliber ones and is able to withstand explosions and gives Bruce the ability to switch between thermal and night vision withal. And, let's not forget the utility belt which is equipped with a grappling hook that saved him from a lot of near-death situations in the past.

Suicide Squad: Fresh Meat.

In that case, I think I'll make a post. After that, I'll discuss the RP with DSW. If he has truly abandoned it, we'll kill off Zoom and then move on without a GM. I was in an RP before where the GM had vanished and instead, each of the default members managed a couple of NPC factions individually, so it's not gonna be that hard.

Suicide Squad: Fresh Meat.

Waiting on DSW to chuck one in before I get my post up.

Suicide Squad: Fresh Meat.

One of Slade's best personality traits in the comics is that he could remain calm no matter the situation. His fight against the Justice League C-listers was the best example. That being said, this universe's Slade retains more human characteristics, at one point raging out at Catman and actually, to some degree, being afraid of Zoom and his power. Also, long live BBCode.