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Old 07-26-2014, 04:46 PM   #41
Batman
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Location: Gotham City, NJ
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Default Re: DC: Year One-- Sign-Up/OOC Thread


DC Year One: Character Application

Character Name: Bruce Wayne, aka The Batman

Alignment (Hero, Villain, Walking the Line): Hero

Character Speech Color and Font (actually say what it is, like Blue Comic Sans): Bruce's font is Black Verdana bolded. Batman's is Arial Black.

Powers and Abilities: Though he lacks any superhuman capabilities, Batman's real strengths lie in his human physicality and superior intellect, having been trained under a variety of the world's best instructors in the fields of hand-to-hand combat, criminal psychology, manhunting, forensic analysis, and other fields benefiting his war on crime. He also possesses access to a vast inheritance, totaling in at several billion dollars, enabling him to fund an array of advanced gadgetry, state-of-the-art armor suits, and vehicles.

Character Origin/Backstory: One mistake changed everything. A lowly mugger didn't know what he would unleash when he shot that boy's parents in a botched robbery attempt, but for a young Bruce Wayne, it would be the defining moment of his entire life. Orphaned and alone, initially declared a ward of the state, the media-dubbed "Prince of Gotham" was eventually taken in by the first responder to the gruesome scene of his mother and father's murder, James Gordon. But living under the roof of a police officer who dealt with killers and thieves every night was hardly the ideal circumstance, as Bruce quickly began to learn that Gotham City - once believed to be a peaceful, economically sound metropolis - had spent years masking it's own true nature.

With the deaths of his parents, both highly influential citizens of Gotham in their own right as an industrialist and world-renowned psychiatrist, respectively, the city had lost all sense of discretion when it came to the illegal activities that had once remained in the shadows. Crime was running more rampant than ever, violence reigned, it's lower class were sectioned off into an island called The Narrows, and things were only getting worse. Gordon would often return home dismayed, trying his best to hide the horror of what he'd witnessed, but Bruce knew the bitter truth - the city of Gotham was rotting away.

At fifteen years old, he'd finally had enough of watching it happen infront of him. After several attempts to join the police academy, Bruce realized that Gordon would never let it happen out of fear towards subjecting him towards the city's worst - or even becoming just as corrupt as the department itself. So after finally running away from the Gordon household and garnering access to his trust fund, Bruce reached out and made contact with his family's former bodyguard, an ex-MI6 field agent named Alfred Pennyworth. Knowing that Pennyworth felt responsible for being unable to prevent the fate of the Waynes, Bruce easily persuaded him to make contact with former colleagues and start him on a new path.

For several years, as Wayne grew to maturity, the two travelled to vastly different parts of the world, tracking down various would-be instructors that would garner the young man a new set of skills. Bruce eventually became an excellent manhunter in his own right, striking out on his own and taking down various terrorist suspects from across the globe based off of Alfred's classified intellgence. It was this persistance that attracted the wrong kind of attention, however, and led to the biggest turning point in Wayne's very long journey. One night while staying in Malaysia, he awoke to a group of cloaked individuals who carried him off into the darkness. Bruce Wayne was now a captive of The Court of Owls.

Five months of agonizing physical and psychological torture followed, as The Court shipped Bruce and several other potential candidates to various stations at every corner of the world. Frightened whispers among the prisoners revealed that they were preparing another harem of deadly assassins to storm each capital city of Europe. Unwilling to be apart of such an insane plan, Bruce steeled himself for the weeks that would follow and endured the worst. Left broken and beaten, stabbed and shot, and even brought to the brink of insanity, it seemed as though nothing would ultimately bend him to their will. Eventually, the Court settled on one last method of torture. In the Carpathian mountains, they lowered a bound and chained Bruce into the deepest cavern imagineable and cut the rope, leaving him to die. For days, he starved, but he would not relent. His only company were the frightening swarm of bats that occassionally flew past his field of vision. Little did he realize that, despite the odds, this experience would bring about a rebirth. By the time that The Court retrived him, they discovered that Bruce Wayne had died in that cavern - and had emerged as something else.

Turning him loose with the belief that they'd succeeded in turning him into a ruthless killer, Bruce fought off and narrowly evaded his captors, eventually escaping their reach entirely. Reuniting with Alfred, he finally returned home to Gotham at the age of twenty-five, a decade after he'd left. Finding the city in complete chaos, with the Police Department bought off and split into an Eastern and Western precinct that warred for control under the influence of the mob - despite the best efforts of the newly minted Captain Gordon - Bruce utilized his inheritance to attempt to fight back.

With Wayne Enterprises under the iron grip of a corrupt CEO named Derek Powers, Wayne turned to the company's former R&D engineer, Lucius Fox, who was running a small think-tank in the middle of The Narrows. Challenging Fox and his associates to create applications that would make for a safer Gotham, Bruce secretly began to modify their designs to suite his purposes. Establishing a base at the top of the abandoned Gotham City Clocktower, Bruce and Alfred set up shop with a series of highly advanced computer systems, security protocols, and customized vehicles. The plan was simple enough - by day, Bruce Wayne would champion the less fortunate and use his money to turn the tide. But under the cover of night, he would fight in secret, striking back at the mob and the criminals that had laid his city to waste.

All that was missing was the method. But after a series of failed attempts left him unsuccessful, his experience in the Carpathians flooded back to him through a series of nightmares. Inspiration finally struck whenever he'd come back from a particularly bloody night, envisioning the corpse of his father, watching him while being swarmed by a group of bats. Bruce would utilize what had been used to break him and turn it into a strength, creating something that would terrorize his enemies. Creating a disguise to fit this newfound motif, he began his crusade in earnest. Soon, Gotham will know it has a guardian angel. But those who prey on the innocent will come to know him by another name... The Batman.

Why this character? I'll never get tired of playing him. For me, Batman is the single most versatile character in fiction, and I can imagine a hundred different ways of reinterpreting his origins, his allies, his enemies, and every facet of his world. Gotham City is as much my home as any real place, and I genuinely can't wait to get back into it.

What can you bring to the RPG? A vast knowledge of the history of the character, a passion for the games, and a strong emphasis on characterization. Also kryptonite, in the event that Andy gets too out of line with his GM powers.

Provide a short sample post as your desired character, in three paragraphs or more and featuring at least one line of dialogue:

"Are you absolutely sure this is how you want to be going about this?"

Alfred's words hardly even register as my eyes remain focused on the data infront of me. We only just managed to get the database up and running last week, and it's already performing beyond my wildest expectations. For a small moment, I could swear I've actually seen the whole of the city through the network grid, encompassing every alleyway and street corner like they're part of some sort of a grand chessboard. If this is the kind of hardware that thirty-seven million dollars can give me, I can hardly imagine how the car will turn out. But as my astonishment at the level of intricacy in the digital map of Gotham fades, so does my already thinning patience. Alfred doesn't know this, but I've been on edge all evening, waiting for this moment to finally arrive.

I've waited years... decades. Ever since I lost them, I've felt as if my life has been building towards a particular moment in time where I could finally make sense of things and find a purpose that would allow me to move forward again. Looking at this, all of this, has finally given me that. The Clocktower has become a sufficient enough base of operations, but it feels like it's only the beginning of something greater. If we're to create this monster I've dreamt up and give it life - hell, even just give it a real leg to stand on - then I have to assume that this is only the first step in a much larger path ahead. Creating the "new" Bruce Wayne was only part of it. Now comes the real work.

"Of course I'm sure. I've outlined my first few objectives for the evening. A sweep of Robinson Park, then I head into the Narrows. With any luck, I'll make it to the East End before dawn, and then..."

Alfred clears his throat, interrupting me as I rise up from the computer console.

"That... isn't entirely what I meant, sir."

He gestures towards the work station ahead of me, indicating what's staring back at the both of us. After weeks of trial and error, the uniform's finally been completed. It went through several design phases, including a short-lived spandex bodysuit design over kevlar tri-weave and even a bright blue and gray number, but I think I finally worked out enough of the kinks to test it properly. Alfred's skepticism has been thoroughly noted throughout the entire process, but I can understand it. He's a soldier. He's seen war of a different kind. But Gotham isn't just one battleground - it's an entire state of decay, torn apart by nightly war that threatens the life of each and every person in it. If you want to fight something like that, you have to get creative. You have to be... different.

And this is certainly very different.

"I know how it looks. But trust me, Alfred. If I wasn't absolutely sure about this, I'd explore other options. This is the only way that makes sense."

As I walk past him and approach it, gathering the first few tools, he follows.

"Unfortunately, that's exactly what I've been afraid of."

"Did you finish outfitting the belt? Put everything in it's..."

He tenses up before continuing. Clearly, this is going to be a discussion for another night. Maybe even several. But he's not going to change my mind. Not now. Not when we've come this far.

"Yes, of course. Though the gas pellets presented a degree of difficulty to properly load, you should be equipped with everything you'll require. Should you find that you'll require something else, we'll have to have Mr. Fox's team build such items to your specifications."

I hold up the cowl for the first time since the outer coating was set, staring into it. Lost in a momentary trance. The insanity of this hasn't quite been lost on me, but for a moment, it almost seems normal.

"Then I guess there's nothing else left."

Removing my shirt, I hand it back to him and begin assembling the suit, piece by piece. First go the leggings, which strap tightly onto my body and present an initial discomfort. Then the upper undersuit, which slips on like a glove. The boots are next, clasping into place under my heels. The armor pieces take a moment to get just right, but they eventually come into place over the undersuit, snapping ontop of my shoulders, forearms, chest, and legs. It's only then that I start to realize the severity of what I'm about to do, given that the armor's meant to protect me from everything between a semi-automatic round to a bowie knife. The gloves slip on easily enough, followed by the gauntlets, which loudly snap into place. Then the belt, which wraps around my waist and constricts it all together. Finally, the cloak, which took the longest for us to perfect, given it's initial weight. It feels heavier at first, but lighter as I start to move. I surpress a small smile, thinking this might just work.

He approaches me from behind, cowl in hand. I slowly take it from him and give it a final glance.

"You know, sir, that I've supported you throughout this entire ordeal. I only want to make sure you've thought this through, because once you've made the choice, I fear there may be..."

By the time I've slipped it over my head, something in Alfred's mood changes. His voice almost trembles with the next few words and his eyes grow slightly larger. No longer skeptical in his tone, he instead seems unsure of what to make of it at first. Then I start to realize why, approaching the mirror in the far corner of the room.

"I... I fear there may be no going back."

I don't quite know what my initial reaction is to seeing myself wearing it for the first time, but I know exactly what my feelings about it are a few moments later.

I've never felt more normal.

"No. There isn't."


Last edited by Batman; 07-27-2014 at 04:13 PM.
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