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Old 01-12-2007, 07:30 PM   #1
BnKRPG
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Th Cool The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season 2.0

Ultimate DC Text from http://galactus.genesismuds.com
Header made by Master Bruce




.gamemasters.


.gamemasters.
Master Bruce & The Question

.gamemistress.
twylight

.assistant gamemasters.
MaskedManJRK
Green Lantern

.advisor.
batnkevlar

- - -


.about the ultimate dc universe rpg.

This game is similar to The "World Of Heroes" DC RPG,

however this one follows a different, non-established 'Ultimate' continuity, similar to Marvel's Ultimate line.


- - -


. the 'Ultimate' World: History and Parameters of the Ultimate DC Universe.

The following posts contain, the parameters and history of this universe.
Use these as a starting point, to get to know this world.
What you do in it and how your character reacts in it is entirely up to you.
Good luck!

.post one.

.post two.



- - -


.rules.
  • Players can choose any DC Comic character they wish, and ''Ultimize'' them. Since there is no established Ultimate continuity for DC, some liberties can be taken. However, We ask that you at least try and stay true to the character's basics. (IE: Superman's an alien, Batman's a mortal, Wonder Woman's an Amazonian warrior, ect.) Don't make him or her completely 100% different from his/her's Regular DC counterpart.
  • This is in an Ultimate DC continuity. Meaning, this does not tie into the continuity of DC Comics. (IE: Superman never died, Batman was never broken by Bane, ect.) So don't play as if any of that has already happen. This is a NEW universe.
  • No Killing. Unnamed faceless NPC's (*Non Player Characters) are okay, but not comic characters. Someone else may want to take up the character, or they may be imporant to another story.
  • You can go anywhere on earth, or travel off planet, but do so within your character's means.
  • Provided you've proven yourself a capable RPG participant, you will be allowed the option of two characters. Characters can be reserved at any point during the season for a period of two weeks.
  • You are your character, so act like it. Talk like them, use their dialogue. Do not exaggerate their powers or abilities, or pop-up here and there without explaination.
  • Several stories can be going at once, and you have the freedom to interact with other characters.
  • Borrowing elements from other mediums aside from the comic books is to be kept to a minimum. But a direct adaptation is prohibited. This RPG is about creativity... Try to your own ideas above all else. (If you're stuck creatively, ask the gamemasters for advice)
  • If your character is closely related to another player's character (Example: Lex and Superman), it is strongly suggested that you PM the other player about your plans, so they can plan accordingly.
  • No Time Travel. (Unless someone wants to play an Ultimate Booster Gold, where the character needs that.)
  • You must post every two weeks, though it is preferred that you post more. If you go two weeks without a post without prior notice, your character is be up for grabs.
  • All regular Hype rules also apply.
  • Have fun.
- - -


.roster.

For a complete roster of which characters are already taken, and which are free, please refer to the Out Of Continuity thread, located here.

The OOC thread is also where you can apply for any character not currently taken.

(NOTE: One cannot play within the game until he/she has been accepted for their applied character in the Signup/OOC thread.)




Last edited by Batman; 11-26-2007 at 08:34 PM.
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Old 01-12-2007, 08:27 PM   #2
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Default Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II

8 Years Ago

I blow out the candles in a shape of an 18. Mom and Grandma claps and cheers. Grandpop just watches on quietly. He's holding onto a tin box like there's no tommorow.

"Happy Birthday, baby."

She leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

"Well, since you've opened your presents. Will be leaving."

"Wait, where ya'll going?"

"You and your grandfather need to talk."

She turns to him and gives him a nod. When Grandma leave's and Mom shuts the door. My grandfather, Michael Holt, clears his throat.

"I want to talk to ya about something, son. Your 18 now and you have a pretty good idea what you want to do with your life. You got a scholarship to Gotham University and are gonna major in pre-med. Become a doctor and make alot of money. Not as much as your gonna get when your mother and I kick over, but still a good bit. What I'm trying to sayis that you have a path you want to go down, but every now and then, life throws you a curveball."

He slides the tin box over to me and for the first time I get a good look. It's got an old padlock on it. What's ever in there, he's kept it in there a long time.

"That's why, I figured since your 18 and then your old enough to know a little about my past. You know I was in the army and that I served in World War II, but that's all you know. You know I made billions of dollars from my inventions, but that's all you know."

He reaches down into his shirt and pulls out a key on a metal chain. He snaps the chain off and put's the key in my hand.

"There comes a time in every young man's life, when he chooses. Does he become the man he wants to be, or does he become the man he should be."

I open the lock and pull it off. I slowly open the box and see inside is some green clothing and a red hooded mask.

"What is this, Pops?"

"Terry, I was a superhero called Mr. Terrific. I was a memeber of the Justice Society of America. I want you to take up my mantle and become the next Mr. Terrific."


6 Years Ago

"Welcome back, if your just joining us. You have missed phenominal game. Gotham City U. Is down by one point in double overtime against Keystone U. in the NCAA national championship game. Gotham City U's Terry Holt has 31 points to go along with his 15 assist and 9 steals. Gotham get's the ball right here with only 2.5 seconds left on the clock and Holt is the one they'll be looking for.....Johnson get's it in to Tate...Tate passes to Holt, Holt shoots.....Good!!! No time is left as Gotham City U. wins on a last second shot from their fabulous shopomore Holt!"

2 months later

"Terry, I'd like for you to meet someone."

I look up from the weight bench and see an old gray haired man standing next to pops.

"This is one of my best friends and fellow JSA'er Ted 'Wildcat' Grant."

He's pretty ripped to be as old as he is. He shakes my hand and smiles.

"So your Mike's grandbaby, eh? Well from what he told me on the phone, your gonna follow after him. He wanted me to teach ya some stuff."

"Well, he taught me some basic martial arts but felt I could benefit from learning some slober knocking moves as well."

"Alright, Let's get started then."

Two Months Ago
Holt Electronics Proving Ground
Long Island, New York

"Up until now you've masterd the pyshical part of crime fighting, but it takes more than that. It takes tech as well. In front of me I have some of my own personal inventions. There just prototypes, so please be careful."

"What's this? A jacket?"

"Not just any jacket. It's your jacket. It's leather with kevlar weaved into it. It's bullet proof and can stop anything but a straight shot. I got your Mr. Terrific stitched on the back."

"What's up with the Fair Play stitched on the sides? Like our motto 'Fair Play for the Future'?"

"It is Holt Electronics motto, something compelled me to do it. Check out you mask."

He opens up a case with a black T inside.

"Now be very careful. It's real thin."

I pick it up and look at it strangely.

"What's it made out of?"

"It's comprised of nanites that painlessly graft onto your face. The nanites make you invisible to any from of detection other than the naked eye."

"What about that?"



"That's what your gonna be driving. She can do up to 250 and that's without the enhancments."

"Enhancments?"

"Just some minor tweaks. Do me a favor though. Never press the red button."

Present Day
Holt Electronics Proving Ground
Long Island, New York


"Tonight's the night, kid. You ready?"

"You kidding?"



"I've been ready for 8 years."

__________________
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Old 01-12-2007, 11:12 PM   #3
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Default Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II

TWO MONTHS AGO


Two Shots.

That's all that it took for me to realise my parents were dead.


My eyes jolt open, awakening from the repetitive nightmare I've found myself revisiting lately. I look around, feeling the cold air as I realise the window's open. I'm in the study, sitting in my father's old, worn chair. I'm not entirely sure how long I've been here or whether I even made a concious effort to be, but for now, there's no place I'd rather be. Except maybe the cave. Maybe if I had just lived the rest of my life there, I wouldn't have failed Gotham or my parents as badly as I did.

It's been three days. Correction... four, considering I just noticed that the sun's just rising outside. But I just can't shake it. The possibilities... the 'what ifs?' have run through my head at least a dozen times. The feeling is familiar... I remember doing that when Vicki Vale was put into the hospital by Johnathan Crane, better known now as The Scarecrow. Aswell as when Harvey "Two-Face" Dent murdered the man who disfigured him. Even when Carmine Falcone met his demise at the hands of the maniac calling himself The Creeper. But over time, I was able to rid myself of the guilt that came with those failures. Now, however, it's all coming back. With an addition, too. As terrible as those crimes were... I don't think they can be compared to the massacre I witnessed seventy tw-...ninety six hours ago.

My fault. All of it. I've tried to tell myself otherwise, but I only know I'm attempting a lie. I knew it would happen. I knew those people were in danger. And yet I let myself become distracted with the phonecall, and the mugging. If I had just ignored both, there's a chance that all of those people would still be alive today, and The Joker would've been put into The Arkham Institute. But I didn't. And it's a price I'm paying.

Maybe I was wrong to go about my promise, like this. It all seemed so logical at first: Use my own childhood fear to strike terror into everyone else. Even when I was building the costume, modifying the car, digging out the cave... I never told myself I'd fail. I was just too obsessed with restoring Gotham to it's prime, like I remembered it before my parents' murder. But failure? That isn't something that crosses one's mind, when you devote your life to an ideal. You think you've thought of everything. I couldn't have been any more wrong.

So that begs the question. Should I just give it all up? I worked so hard to get as far as I could... but it all seems so pointless with what's happened. All of my training didn't stop The Joker from murdering those innocent people. So what good is it to continue? Even the innocent people themselves don't trust me. I've read the headlines... Nearly all of them accuse me of vigilantism and insanity. And maybe they're right... Maybe I am insane for what I've tried to do. Dressing up like a Bat to take down all of the crime in one city isn't nessacarily a declaration of the opposite.

It all goes back to the reason. My parents. Both of them wrongfully gunned down right before my eyes. That incident spawned all of this. But what I never focused on was honoring what they stood for... the example they made to this city. I only focused on my own pain and anger. Why else would I have chosen such an extreme and violent approach to this? Sometimes... I actually think about what they'd say to me if they knew about this. And none of their reactions are nessacarily pleasant, everytime I imagine it.

I don't know. Apart of me feels like it's too late to go back. I've established a pattern in my life that would be difficult to rid myself of. And I can't just force everyone to forget about The Batman. To put it simply, I've painted myself into a corner. A trap. One I'm not sure I'll ever be able to escape. But if I don't... how many more will it take to make me reconsider? How many more have to be killed by psychopathic madmen like The Joker or Scarecrow, before I begin to realise that maybe they aren't the problem?

I look up for the first time in minutes, only to spot the familiar sight of Alfred's tuxedo out of the corner of my eye. Has this life taken a toll on him, aswell?

"Forgive me for sounding like a broken record, sir, but... How are you doing?"

For a moment, I can't find the words. Of all of the people I've dragged along with me on this crusade... Alfred is probably the one I most regret.

"How do I look?", I eventually ask, quietly, looking down at the fireplace.

"Well, your ability to speak is improving, at the very least. That's the first thing you've said since the other night.", He responds, laying a tray on the table next to me. "Manage some room for a bit of food?"

I finally look at him. He's trying his hardest to cheer me up... make me forget about what happened. But all I see when I look at him is another victim of this... war, as I once referred to it.

"I suppose not."

Putting the the lid of the tray back on, Alfred begins to walk out of the room. But then I notice him pausing. A long moment passes before either of us say anything. Unfortunatley, I keep my vow of silence longer than he does.

"Master Bruce, you can't blame yourself."

"I'm doing a pretty good job of it, so far."

"You know what I'm trying to say, Sir. Don't try and ignore it."

I look away.

"I feel like I could've done something. More than I did, really..."

"But you tried, didn't you?"

I look back.

"Trying didn't save those people. And it's not going to save Gotham if I continue."

"Trying, I'm afraid, is all one could hope for in any case. You're giving yourself far too much grief."

"Or not enough."

He pauses, for a moment.

"What?"

"If I may, sir... I seem to remember another young man who said that on quite the regular occasion."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Your father. Everytime he failed to save a patient's life. Do you believe him to be a failure aswell?"

"Of course not.", I respond rather quickly. "He may have made mistakes. But my father was a good man, and he still had the decency to at least tr-"

I pause, catching that. Alfred smiles. I shake my head, looking back at the fireplace.

"I never wanted to compare myself to him, Alfred."

"Then perhaps it's time you tried. Lord knows that everyone else does...", He responds.

"The point is, sir, that you're more like your father than you realise. Both incomparably driven, both incomparably stubborn... But both incomparably human, above all."

I look over at him again. He seems so sure of that. Maybe I should be, too...

"I'm still not my father."

"Of course not, Master Bruce. But no one else is. You, however, do come the closest to being his equal, given how much good both of you have done in the world."

How much good I've done in the world...?

Okay, now I know he's just being considerate. I haven't-

We both turn, hearing the sound of the phone. Before Alfred can move, I walk over, and pick it up.

"Hello?"

"I wasn't sure if you'd pick up, this time."

I lower my head, letting out a sigh at the sound of her voice.

Great. Rachel. Just the person I needed to talk to...

"I've... not been in the mood for talking, lately."

"You haven't been since I met you."

...Well, she's got me there.

"I assume you heard about what happened?"

"With the massacre at Gotham High? It's been making the newsrounds, yes. They didn't say Batman was involved in any way, but I had a feeling..."

I lean on the desk behind me, annoyed. I wish she'd just get the point. Maybe I should do it for her...

"So you called to tell me how badly I failed? Because I got the message, thank you."

"Actually, I called to do the exact opposite. I want you to meet me somewhere tonight."

I raise an eyebrow, looking at Alfred. He tries to look away... But... I think he may actually know something about this.

"Where, exactly?"

A few hours later, and I'm walking into the absolute last place I ever thought I'd go to again. Rachel walks beside me, bundling up her coat at the chilling winds of the nightly winter's air. I notice this, and look over.

"We don't have to do this, if you don't-"

"No.", She immediatley responds. "You're not using me as an excuse to get out of this, Bruce. We came here for a reason."

I turn, continuing the tread forward. We pass a street sign. I can't even look at it, because I already know what it reads. It's image will probably never leave me.

PARK BLV.

It's here. This exact spot. This is where it all started. Where a figure lashed out of the darkness, armed with a gun. Where that same figure ended the lives of my parents as quickly as it came. This is where my true life began. In almost every way... this is where I was born.

I can't move, seeing it. But eventually, Rachel gives me a stern look. I don't even know why she cares, anymore. But something about that look convinces me to walk forward. I look back at her, for a moment. She turns away, as she promised she would. I don't want her or anyone else to see this... this is a private matter. Between me and them. Without a second's hesitation, I reach into my jacket, and pull them out. I remember my mother always being so happy, at the sight of these, whenever my father brought them home for her. It's why I've chosen to continue the tradition, today. That and, well... I think that it's become long overdue.

I place the two white roses down, gently, onto the pavement that once provided home to my parents' dying bodies. Their bloodstains are faint, but still visible. Fitting, I guess. But the roses make it all seem so... well actually, less morbid.

I... want to say something. It's an odd urge, but... I really feel as though I'll never get the chance again.

"I don't know what to say.", I begin, looking down at the roses. "I'm crazy for saying anything, really. Because I know you can't possibly hear me. But... I... It's been awhile."

I don't even bother to look back and see Rachel's reaction to this. She probably thinks I've lost it, too. But something tells me to keep going.

"What happened to you is something I'll never forget for as long as I live. There hasn't been a day that's gone by, even now, when I haven't thought of... that night.", I continue. "You probably wouldn't have wanted it. Who would, really? Having a son... dwelling on something like that. But I have. And I probably always will."

I shouldn't stay long. I know what it'll do to me. I have to make this quick... even though part of me doesn't want to.

"I know it can't matter to either of you anymore. I know that better than most. But... I just hope one day, both of you can understand why I've chosen to do what I've chosen to do. And why I... I have to continue."

Until this moment... I didn't even realise I had already made a decision. But I guess I have. Huh.

"I love both of you. And I know this goes without saying, but... I'll be thinking of you."

I touch the pavement, softly, remembering what it felt like that night. It brings back so much... yet it pains so little. Because now I know that I can finally continue with the rest of my life.

I guess... I can go now. Goodbye, mother and father. It's time I made good on that vow I made to the both of you, a few years ago...

I stand, letting the windchill hit my face. It doesn't phase me, as I turn, a new man. This spot birthed me. Now, I feel like it's rebirthed me, as I look at Rachel, who turns, and smiles lightly.

"I disagree."

I raise an eyebrow at the comment.

"I think it does still matter to both of them."

For a moment, I'm silent again. But eventually, it comes. A smirk on my face. Something I'd never thought would hit it again. Of course I'm quick to hide it... but I think it's too late anyway.

"Come on. I need to get back.", I tell her, as we begin to walk back into the city.



"There's work to be done."

It took me awhile to trace the origin of it. But when I eventually did, it wasn't surprising in the very least.

Letting go of my line and spreading my cape so it'll catch wind, I land on the edge of the rooftop, still a bit surprised by it. He turns, noticing my arrival. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he smirks at my reaction to it.



"Figured that'd get your attention.", He says, letting the cigarette drop to the ground.

I step off of the ledge, walking towards it. Surveying. It's... very big. Very traceable. But in some ways, I can't help but feel it has a certain charm to it.

"What is it?", I ask, as Gordon lightly taps it's symbol.

"Newest form of communication. Or oldest, depending how you look at it.", He responds. "Guess you could say it's a signal, of sorts."

"Why?"

"Because frankly, our old method wasn't working quite as well. At least this way, you won't have much of an excuse not to show."

I stand, silent. I seem to do that alot. It gets on everyone's nerves... but part of me likes that. I'm not out to be liked, or even admired. I'm just out to be me.

"You don't like it?"

I turn my head.

"I never said that. But you'd think one would be tempted to trace it."

"Won't have to worry about that. Not after I get the others installed."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Others?"

"Oh, yes.", He states, stomping out his cigarette on the ground. "I realised that it'd take less than a damned second for anyone to trace it back to here, so I'm setting up a few extras around town. Remote controlled. All set to light up at the same time with the press of a button. Anyone tries to find it or you, they'll end up on a wild goose chase across half the city."

He's... thought about this. Willing to use this more than once. Perhaps even willing to continue trusting me, after what happened. I find a small amount of comfort within knowing that.

"Then we move on."

"From The Joker? I figure that's all we can do.", He states. "Still blaming yourself for it?"

"It... comes and goes, now.", I begin. "But I'm more concerned with capturing him. And the rest."

"Now that's thinking I could get used to.", He responds. "Starting with a report I filed just a few minutes ago. Seems after Falcone's passing, someone's tried to strongarm his territory from all the other criminals in this city. They call him The Penguin."

He looks at me, after looking out at Gotham. I think I know what he's about to say.

"Interested in taking a look?"

I look at the... signal, as he called it. Then back at him.

"If you're interested in trusting me."

"I am.", He states, extending his hand. "You've earned that much, I'd say."

"How?"

"Because even if you've fallen short a couple times... At least you've still gave a damn enough to keep trying."

I try to hide the smirk from my face, remembering Alfred's comment with his own... but I don't think he'll mind seeing it. If anything, it may convince him to trust me more. Extending my own hand, I grasp his, and we shake on it.

"I'm interested.", I state, before walking back towards the ledge.

"Batman..."

I pause, and turn.

"If you don't mind me asking... what made you decide to stop blaming yourself? From all the other times, I assumed you'd be knee deep in grief."

I turn back around, getting back on the ledge.

"I realised two things, Jim.", I begin, before turning around, letting my cape catch the wind again. "One... I made a promise, a long time ago. And that promise doesn't permit me anymore grief."

I don't expect him to understand that... but he nods anyway.

"And the other thing?"

I turn around, looking out at the city. Gotham City. My city, now.

"The other thing?"

I've never felt more confident in saying this. And it's never felt more right.

"I've got work to do."

I manage to catch the smile on his face, as I leap off the rooftop, and swing into the night. Maybe for the next time. Maybe for the last time. I'll just have to keep hoping, because I realised... that's really what I need to keep doing anyway. Hoping. And trying.

My name was Bruce. I was born into a grand utopia, once known as the greatest city in the world. Now, I wage a neverending quest to make it that way again. Not out of revenge. But out of respect. Respect for two very good people who gave their lives in order for this to happen. Why am I the one to carry this out?

Because as far as I'm concerned, my name isn't Bruce anymore. It's Batman. And it's going to stay that way as long as the criminal element rots my city to it's core. I don't care if it takes a day, a week, a year, or even a lifetime... I'm going to put a stop to it all.


This, I vow.

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Old 01-13-2007, 12:34 AM   #4
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Default Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II

OOC: The first few posts will be a set up for a future arc so are based about 2 months ago (basically when Season I just ended).

Clayface- 'Everything's gone downhill'
---------------------------------------------
Matt sits in his bedroom looking at old movie flyers and pictures; memories of the good 'ol days; days where he held his head up high; the glory days. Now, he continues to sit on his bed, looking at the pictures while eyeing at the pistol with the corner of his eye everynow and then. Every time he glances over at it, with the hot smoke rising from it's barrel, the pistol looks more and more friendly.

"What do friends do?"

Matt gets up from his bed and looks into the mirror, wide-eyed. He is so depressed and tired that he doesn't even notice that he's talking to himself. He thinks he is talking to his old manager, Doug, like if he were across the room. But he is not his manager; not anymore; he's dead; Matt killed him.

After the incident with the aging cream commercial, Doug came over to see Matt in person to talk it over with him. There was a dispute, and Matt pulled a gun on Doug. And now Matt is alone; but he doesn't think so.

"Friends help eachother, right? Yes. Friends help friends. So, if friends help friends."


Matt turns around and walks over to his bed and picks up the gun.

"Then this is my friend...And he's dying to help me. Not like you Doug. You didn't help me. You hurt me; you hurt me real bad; you ruined me."

Matt walks up to Doug's dead body, laying on the chair across the room.

"You got fat off me while I suffered in the dark, Doug. After that Owlman film...I've never had a good day in my life. Ever since that damn role, I've slowly, slowly, been withering down; into almost nothing. Well, now I'm nothing, Doug, and you made me. But not even you could save me, Doug. Only I can save me...Only I can save me..."

Matt wants to but he can't even manage to lift up the gun. It just remains at his side, hanging by his weak fingers. Everytime he believes he wants to pick it up, even just a little bit, he can't. Sure, he could blame it on the fact that he just killed a person for the first time, but that would be lying. That's not why he can't lift up the gun now; he did it before afterall. No. No matter how much he wants to listen to the melodies of the gun fire spiraling through his head, he can't do it.

Normally the mind has the power over the body, it seems it is the opposite this time. Or perhaps...Matt doesn't know what he wants. But no...Matt knows exactly what he wants.

He walks over to the dresser, opens a drawer, and after staring at it for a few seconds, he drops the gun into the drawer and closes it. He looks over the mirror, runs a few fingers through his hair, tries to tie up his loosened tie and as he is about to walk out the door, he stops and turns around; as if someone were with him.

"Let's go find me another audition, Doug."

He faces the doorway, closes the door on his way out, and walks out of the apartment building.

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Old 01-13-2007, 01:50 AM   #5
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Default Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II

Kyle, report back to Oa at once. The time has come to reveal the true purpose of the Ion to you and the Corp.

"I thought there was going to be more time, more training?"

"We're afraid our hands have been forced by an unforseen emergency. The need for the intervention that Ion can offer has presented itself."

"Understood Ganthet."

In a flash of green light, Kyle Rayner disappears from the vacuum of space. He is heading for Oa, the home planet of the Guardians. These Guardians have given Kyle a great responsibility by presenting him with the title of Ion. To what extent, Kyle could never truly imagine.

As Kyle reaches Oa's outer region, he can feel a connection to Oa that he never felt before. He lands and stands before the Guardians.

"Kyle Rayner, are you prepared to become the instrument that we, the Guardians, have chosen for you?"

"Yes, I am."

"Then enter the central power battery, and let the true power that you hold be revealed to you."

Kyle turns and looks at the central power battery. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, floats up, and goes into the entrance. Once inside, Kyle is surrounded by white. He can barely see. Out of the nothingness comes the outline of a man. Kyle can’t help but think that the man seems so familiar, but it’s impossible that he could know who he was.

Hello Kyle. There is no need for me to tell you my name. I’m simply a visible and audible imprint that was grafted into the battery's memory. You are not the first Ion. I was your predecessor. As I was Ion, I slowly became more and more detached from my family. In an effort to correct that, you were sought out. I spent many years searching for the proper replacement and found, what I felt were, all the necessary requirements. How much you know of the hierarchy that the Guardians have is of little importance. Just know that you are the top of that hierarchy. You will become one with the central power battery. Every once of power that resides in here will now become yours. Due to the amount of power that you retain, you will serve only as a failsafe when all other options have been exhausted. Your true purpose however, is much more important. You will not only become connected to the better physically but also spiritually. You will serve as the Guardian’s medium to all things residing outside of this realm. These include Heaven, Hell, Forth World, and limbo just to name a few. When Lucifer himself wishes to speak to the Guardians, you will be his audience. When the Ashanti god Nyase grows tired of his son’s foolishness and requests the Guardians services to make him stop, you will be the one to go. These are your duties, and soon they shall become burdens.

”What if I don’t want them?”

That’s exactly why they must be yours...in brightest day…in blackest night.

Kyle blinks his eyes and was once again standing in front of the Guardians. Ganthet looks Kyle straight in the eyes.

“Now, for your first assignment."


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Old 01-13-2007, 05:45 AM   #6
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"Before The Batman: Circus Freak, Part One"

The first time Richard Grayson ever saw a superhero before his eyes was several months before the event that would, undoubtedly, alter the course of his life forever. The day had begun like any other, as days of importance invariably did; he had risen at six o'clock, prepared himself for his solo training, and then ventured out into the park that the circus had rested in overnight. It was his first time in such a grand city; it was only natural to feel an urge to explore it. He would be dining out tonight, after the show. Metropolis was famous for its glamorous restaurants, and his parents had a particular place in mind.

Apparently this was where they had first met. Dick only hoped that when he found a spouse, their marriage would be as fruitful as theirs.

"Excuse me?" A hesitant tone broke into Dick's ponderings.

He turned to see a relatively young woman, crimson tresses falling jsut past her shoulders, darkly-hued orbs scanning him in a away similar to a hawk's keen gaze. "Yes, ma'am?" he responded, somewhat flustered. She was beautiful' not breathtakingly, but enough to catch the teenaged boy's attention.

"Do you know where I can find a woman by the name of Doris Zeul?"

Dick paused, reluctant to answer. Doris had only recently become a part of the circus, and was largely a mystery to him. She performed an interestingly realistic magic act, altering her size at random; despite her status as a "rookie" in the circus business, she was still impressive. "Erm...may I ask why you want to speak with her?"

A soft smile brushed her rouged lips. "My name's Professor Loring. I'm her...erm...mentor, of sorts. I heard she'd joined the circus, and thought I might pay her a visit."

"Oh. Cool. I'm Dick." Why the hell had he blurted that out? A slight expression of confusion marred her visage, and he quickly added, "Follow me. She's right this way." He turned, feeling his cheeks redden in embarrassment. And then, all hell broke loose.

One of the circus carts overturned, twisting through the air and impacting on the garss just metres away from the pair. Dick cursed and whipped around to grip Jean's arm and get her to safety. She was already gone. Casting any thought of bemusement aside, he broke out into a sprint, sparing few glances to assess the situation. From what he could see, though, havoc was being inadvertantly wreaked everywhere. He felt himself being scooped up in a familiar embrace, and set down behind a bundle of shrubbery.

"Son, are you all right?" his father demanded.

"I'm fine!" he said hurriedly. "Where's Mom?"

The elder man's face paled. "I thought she would be with you."

"Oh, God."

Their eyes rested upon the enormous figure of Doris Zeul towering over them, the leopard-print bodysuit that accompanied her act stretching to cover her entire form, and in her mammoth grasp...Dick's mother was unconscious, a swelling encompassing one side of her forehead.

"Get away from me, or I'll kill her!" Zeul roared.

"No. No, you won't." A costumed female suddenly appeared on the giantess' shoulder, gloved hands balled into fists. "Geronimo!" she cried, and leapt for the hostage.

And, as his father scrambled to seize the woman, Dick could only utter one word of amazement, his gaze locked onto the David and Goliath-reminiscent duel taking place before him.

"Wow."

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Old 01-13-2007, 11:10 AM   #7
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19 years ago..

Micky Rory had always been a strange little boy. He never really had friends and he spent most his time in his room.
He was 8 years old now, and only a few months earlier he had been conducting his own little experiment wich involved matches and flies. He had accidentally set fire to the curtains in his room.
The smoke detector had gone off, and had sounded as if it was literally screaming at the young boy to get out of the room. But little Micky hadn't heard it. He just stared at the flames eating away at his room like a man who had just experienced love at first sight.
Neither had he heard his father slam open the door and run in. Michael Rory grabbed his son, lifted him up and headed straight for the door. But the boy acted as if his father was the danger, howling at him to put him down, crying and reaching out towards the fire like a mother torn from it's child.
Micky's father and his mother Elizabeth tried and tried again to get their child to talk to them.
Every toy the bought him, he set on fire. Every ice cream they gave him, he threw in their faces. Nothing worked.
They were good people. Honest, hard working, good people. But in the last month their marriage had started to crumble under the pressure of their child's illness. They fought and they screamed, all the while little Micky sat in his room and stared at the wall.

"Lizzie, we have to send him to see someone! He needs help!"

"What the hell do you know? You work all day and when you do come home your son has to hear you call him insane!"

"I never said that! Our boy is sick, Lizzie. He needs help!"


Little Micky hated the screaming. He spent all his days and all his nights in his happy place. Where all he could hear was the sweet cracking of the fire, and all he could see was it's arms reaching out to him, calling him.
On the night of his 8th birthday he set fire to his home.
He stood on his front lawn and stared back at what used to be his home.
He watched the fire leap from room to room and cover the whole house. Fire was his home now.
He had heard his parents scream, for both help and their son. But their voices soon died down, as did they.
Little Micky watched the fire with love, inhaled deeply and fell in love with the stench of burning.
Micky Rory had always been a strange little boy.

11 years ago...

Mick Rory had always been a strange young man. His classmates at High Hopes Boarding School hated him. They taunted him, they pushed him in the halls on their way to class, and they routinely forced him into a nearby janitorial closet and locked him in, until a teacher or the janitor found him, always with the same burning hatred in his eyes.
The teachers were no more fond of him than his fellow students. Except Mr. Wilkins.
Mick Rory never talked, except to Mr. Wilkins.
Roger Wilkins had been a teacher for 23 years, lost his wife and daughter in a car accident, and was a recovering alcoholic.
He was the only one in Mick's life who looked at him like a person instead of a monster.
Every week Mick had a session with Mr. Wilkins in his office, in wich they talked about everything. Wilkins had always been amused by how much the boy had to say about life, when he almost never spoke a word to anyone else.

"Ah, Mr. Rory, how are we this morning? Have a seat."

"I'm very good Mr. Wilkins, thank you."

"Very good, but please, do call me Roger. I must say, you certainly look fantastic, have the stress and anger management exercises been working?"

"They have Mr. W--uh, Roger. I never thought they would, but they have. I haven't wanted to hurt anyone all week! I feel fantastic. Thank you again."

"Oh, my dear boy, I cannot tell you how good that is to hear. And how has your..infatuation..with fire progressed, Mr. Rory?"

"Like I said, Mr. Wilkins, I feel very good. I haven't even thought about it the last couple of days. These sessions have really helped me. I think.....I honestly think I'm...normal."

Roger Wilkins had almost started crying. He held back the tears of joy. The fact that he had been able to help this promising young boy certainly warmed his heart. It had taken the better part of 6 years, but he had done it. Mick Rory had been sent to the school when his parents had been killed in a fire and he had had no other relatives to live with. Roger Wilkins had started to look at Mick like his own son, after his daughter's passing.

"Mr Ro...Micky, that is so fantastic to hear. I told you the day we first spoke about your illness, that you could fight it, and you have finally beaten it. I...I know this is most inappropriate, but I see you as the son I never had."

For a split second Roger Wilkins pondered what the pungent, disgusting aroma filling his office was. No sooner than the thought had entered his mind, the piercing scream of Marjorie Reynolds, the secretary, travelled the entire lenght of the hallway and entered every classroom.

"Like I said, Roger. I feel great"

The smile on Mick Rory's face shent a shiver down Roger Wilkins' spine that he hadn't felt since he woke up to see his wife and daughter lifeless beside him. He rushed to his feet and exploded out into the hall. The same stink of burnt wood and flesh was much stronger out here, and smoke almost made it impossible to see. What Roger Wilkins did see, however, would sent him straight back to the bottom of every bottle he could find. The smoking, burnt beyond recognition body of a student that had taunted Mick the morning before.

"Oh my sweet God in heaven..."

Wilkins ran as fast as he could back to his office, but the boy had gone. The window was open and the curtains danced in the wind as if taunting the distraught teacher.
A box of matchs lay on his desk.
Mick Rory had always been a strange young man.
-----------------------------

Today...

Erica Sullivan had worked all week, from morning to night, and rarely been so happy in her life when she found out she wouldn't have to work the coming weekend.
When Friday finally came to an end she had promptly said goodbye to everyone in the office, spending no more time there than she had to.
Not only was it going to be her first weekend off in two months, but she also had a date.
Jonathan Rossdale, was his name. He was handsome, mysterious, and asked her out when she had reached for the same copy of The Daily Planet as he had.

"Oh, sorry. Here, you take it." In the words she had used to describe it to her friends, his smile had almost thrown her panties off.

"I, uh, I'm Johnathan."

She shook his hand, feeling his rugged skin against hers.

"I'm Erica."

He asked her out on a date the coming friday, and she immediately said yes, not having had a date for longer than she cared to remember.

She spent almost an hour getting ready. She wanted everything to be perfect.
The date almost was. Johnathan had taken her out to dinner and they had talked for what seemed like hours. He was the most interesting man she had ever met. God, she couldn't wait to tell her friends.
They had planned to see a movie after dinner, but their conversation lasted long into the night, and they missed it. Neither cared.
When the maitre'd was forced to ask them to leave, they walked for an hour. Nowhere in particular. They just walked, and talked.
It was like he was in her head. He loved what she loved and shared her opinions on almost everything. It was perfect.
It was way past midnight, she noted, when they had arrived at her place.

"Well...This is me. This is probably going to sound like I'm a huge ****, but, would you like to come up?"

"Well, I am a huge ****."

They both laughed and headed upstairs.
What followed, for Erica, was the best sex she had had in what she felt was forever. Nancy and Joan are going to hate me, she mused to herself.
They had both fallen asleep in each others arms, and it was the perfect end to a perfect night.

Erica woke up to find her entire apartement covered in smoke. Oh God, it was on fire. It was hotter than she had ever been before, it was like she was in Hell.
She called out to Johnathan. He didn't answer. Oh God, please don't let him be dead. Oh God.
She rushed out of the be...She had been tied down.

"Oh GOD! NO! AAHH!! HELP!! Johnathan!!! HEEELP!!!!"

"Calm down , love." His voice startled her

"Oh, oh thank God..John, help me, I'm stuck! My home's on fire, hurry!"

"No can do, love. You know, it was very sad to stalk you."

Erica almost died right then.

"Mic...wha...what's going on?" She started to sob, hard as it was in between coughs.

"I mean, you do nothing but work. It's pathetic, really. God, you must have been the easiest target in the world. Let me guess, you fell in love with me, didn' you? How could I be se perfect, you asked yourself. It was like I was in your head..."

His laugh came like a razor through the smoke, as the flames started to lick at Erica's naked body.
She screamed and screamed, sometimes for help. But mostly just screamed.

"I know, it's beautiful isn't it. Don't bother asking me to not kill you. Haha, that'd be two months gone to waste. I can promise you two things, however. One, your death will be beautiful. It will be a masterpiece of nature. Second...




It's going to hurt like hell."









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Old 01-13-2007, 03:41 PM   #8
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3 Months Ago


What I can only describe as a giant space pig stands infront of me. He's hissing something about Lanterns and a Corps.

"Hey, *******. You listening? I asked you if you want to help protect the galaxy from evil and all that bull****."

I think about it for a second. What do I have here that's actually worth a damn? My apartment with all my things? My landlady, Mrs. Lowe can have whatever she wants. Nobody here in Gotham gives a damn about me, a washed up cop who got his ass kicked ten ways to Sunday.

"What the hell? Chances are this is a delusion from me having a stroke and I'm about to die anyway."

He lets a smile escape.

"Well, welcome to Corps. Oorah mother ****er."

2 Months Ago

I roll around on the floor and dodge a ray from Kilowog's blaster. I throw my training ring up and form a hand with my imagination. The giant emerald hand smacks Kilowog across his chest and slams him against the wall.

"Christ that hurt."

Kilowog stumbles up from the floor and looks at me like he caught me trying to bang his daughter.

"You bastard..that's about it. As much as it pains me to say it, you passed. Get out of my sight, You'll get your ring tonight and you'll meet Abin Sur, your partner."

I leave the training room and head down the hallway when a tall, thin, pink skinned man stops me in the hallway. He's got a yellow ring on his finger.

"Your Guy Gardner, I read your file. You were in law enforcement back on your home world. I'd like to talk to you about joining up with my division of the Corps."

Sinestro looks up and I hear the thunder of his footsteps and the hiss of him taking in a breath.

"What the hell are you doing, Sinestro? You know Abin Sur has been partnerless for months now. I'm not letting you take another one."

"You have a problem with it, Kilowog. Take it up with the Guardians, I'm sure you know where they stand."

He stomps off mumbiling under his breath.

"So anyway, what's your division."

"Were called Divison Y. We do some of the dirtier stuff the Guardians don't want their green clad poster boys doing."

"And what is it that you do?"

He lets a devilish smile escape his lips.

"Black Ops, Mr. Gardner, Black Ops."

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Old 01-13-2007, 08:21 PM   #9
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Quote:
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8 Years Ago

I blow out the candles in a shape of an 18. Mom and Grandma claps and cheers. Grandpop just watches on quietly. He's holding onto a tin box like there's no tommorow.

"Happy Birthday, baby."

She leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

"Well, since you've opened your presents. Will be leaving."

"Wait, where ya'll going?"

"You and your grandfather need to talk."

She turns to him and gives him a nod. When Grandma leave's and Mom shuts the door. My grandfather, Michael Holt, clears his throat.

"I want to talk to ya about something, son. Your 18 now and you have a pretty good idea what you want to do with your life. You got a scholarship to Gotham University and are gonna major in pre-med. Become a doctor and make alot of money. Not as much as your gonna get when your mother and I kick over, but still a good bit. What I'm trying to sayis that you have a path you want to go down, but every now and then, life throws you a curveball."

He slides the tin box over to me and for the first time I get a good look. It's got an old padlock on it. What's ever in there, he's kept it in there a long time.

"That's why, I figured since your 18 and then your old enough to know a little about my past. You know I was in the army and that I served in World War II, but that's all you know. You know I made billions of dollars from my inventions, but that's all you know."

He reaches down into his shirt and pulls out a key on a metal chain. He snaps the chain off and put's the key in my hand.

"There comes a time in every young man's life, when he chooses. Does he become the man he wants to be, or does he become the man he should be."

I open the lock and pull it off. I slowly open the box and see inside is some green clothing and a red hooded mask.

"What is this, Pops?"

"Terry, I was a superhero called Mr. Terrific. I was a memeber of the Justice Society of America. I want you to take up my mantle and become the next Mr. Terrific."


6 Years Ago

"Welcome back, if your just joining us. You have missed phenominal game. Gotham City U. Is down by one point in double overtime against Keystone U. in the NCAA national championship game. Gotham City U's Terry Holt has 31 points to go along with his 15 assist and 9 steals. Gotham get's the ball right here with only 2.5 seconds left on the clock and Holt is the one they'll be looking for.....Johnson get's it in to Tate...Tate passes to Holt, Holt shoots.....Good!!! No time is left as Gotham City U. wins on a last second shot from their fabulous shopomore Holt!"

2 months later

"Terry, I'd like for you to meet someone."

I look up from the weight bench and see an old gray haired man standing next to pops.

"This is one of my best friends and fellow JSA'er Ted 'Wildcat' Grant."

He's pretty ripped to be as old as he is. He shakes my hand and smiles.

"So your Mike's grandbaby, eh? Well from what he told me on the phone, your gonna follow after him. He wanted me to teach ya some stuff."

"Well, he taught me some basic martial arts but felt I could benefit from learning some slober knocking moves as well."

"Alright, Let's get started then."

Two Months Ago
Holt Electronics Proving Ground
Long Island, New York

"Up until now you've masterd the pyshical part of crime fighting, but it takes more than that. It takes tech as well. In front of me I have some of my own personal inventions. There just prototypes, so please be careful."

"What's this? A jacket?"

"Not just any jacket. It's your jacket. It's leather with kevlar weaved into it. It's bullet proof and can stop anything but a straight shot. I got your Mr. Terrific stitched on the back."

"What's up with the Fair Play stitched on the sides? Like our motto 'Fair Play for the Future'?"

"It is Holt Electronics motto, something compelled me to do it. Check out you mask."

He opens up a case with a black T inside.

"Now be very careful. It's real thin."

I pick it up and look at it strangely.

"What's it made out of?"

"It's comprised of nanites that painlessly graft onto your face. The nanites make you invisible to any from of detection other than the naked eye."

"What about that?"



"That's what your gonna be driving. She can do up to 250 and that's without the enhancments."

"Enhancments?"

"Just some minor tweaks. Do me a favor though. Never press the red button."

Present Day
Holt Electronics Proving Ground
Long Island, New York


"Tonight's the night, kid. You ready?"

"You kidding?"



"I've been ready for 8 years."
I rev the Lamborghini's engine and hear it purr like a newborn kitten. Granpops leans his head in the window.

"Take the flood control tunnels out to Brooklyn. Follow O.M.A.C.'s instructions."

"O.M.A.C.?"

"Yeah, It's one of my unoffical inventions. It stands for Omnipotent Micro Analyzing Computer. It's like GPS on steroids. This bad boy can find flys on horse ****."

"That's really good to know. So what exactly am I going after tonight?"

"Whatever you see. Any crime you stop helps the world. I'll be touch with an earpeice. Now get out of here, and Allah be with you."

"Yeah, same to you."

I roll up the window and wait as the garage door opens. I shift into first and shoot out the door and into the night.

Welcome to O.M.A.C. State your name.

"TerryTheodore Holt."

Name accepted....Welcome Mr. Terrific please state your course

"Brooklyn, New York."

One second...route planned, take next right

I speed up and take a right into the New York aquaduct, heading towards Brooklyn.

6 Years Ago

WHAM!

I fall to the floor and spit out one of my back molars. This Ted guy might be old, but damn he can hit hard.

"Get up Terry."

"Ya see, kid. Those fancy moves don't mean a damn thing if you can't execute the basics."

I manage to get up on my feet and get into my Judo defensive stance. He dances around like he's a twenty year old.

"Come on, lets see what'ca got."

He throws a punch and I grab him, flip him over my shoulder and onto the floor.

"Way to go, kid. You learned how to take down an old man."

He get's up and pulls a switchblade out of his pocket.

"Now let's see if you can disarm an old man."

Now

My car speeds down the Brooklyn Bridge. I can see Gotham's lights across the bay.

"Alright, find a place to park the car"

"And then?"

"Then? Then the work starts."

__________________
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-- Thomas Paine


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Old 01-14-2007, 12:42 AM   #10
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Default Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II

"First assignment? Already?"

Ganthet looks into Ion's eyes.

"Unfortunately, the presence of Ion has been requested by Izaya to settle a matter concerning the ruler of Apokolips named Darkseid."

"Apokolips huh? Sounds like a wonderful place to visit."

"He is moving against the New Gods. This is a very volatile situation which must be carried out with utter professionalism."

"Right. How do I get to Apokolips?"

"When your soul, for lack of a better word, was grafted with the central power battery, it gave you unlimited abilities. Inside the battery's memory resides a map of the entire known universe as well as guidance from the residual imprint left by the former bearer of the title "Ion". He will be your guide to the spiritual realms that you must enter. Consult him, and prove that you are worthy of the honor bestowed upon you."

"So I have to enter the battery every time I want to find anything out from this "imprint"?"

"As we said before, you are directly connected with the battery. A mere thought can enter communications between you and your guide."

Kyle reaches deep inside himself and calls upon his newfound spiritual guide.

"I wish they would have told me this was going to be a full time job."

"Stop *****ing. You aren't even you, so just do me a favor and point me to the way to Fourth World."

"Darkseid huh? I'd hate to be you right now kid."


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Old 01-14-2007, 05:43 PM   #11
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Default Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II

Quote:
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3 Months Ago
Gotham City


What I can only describe as a giant space pig stands infront of me. He's hissing something about Lanterns and a Corps.

"Hey, *******. You listening? I asked you if you want to help protect the galaxy from evil and all that bull****."

I think about it for a second. What do I have here that's actually worth a damn? My apartment with all my things? My landlady, Mrs. Lowe can have whatever she wants. Nobody here in Gotham gives a damn about me, a washed up cop who got his ass kicked ten ways to Sunday.

"What the hell? Chances are this is a delusion from me having a stroke and I'm about to die anyway."

He lets a smile escape.

"Well, welcome to Corps. Oorah mother ****er."

2 Months Ago
Oa

I roll around on the floor and dodge a ray from Kilowog's blaster. I throw my training ring up and form a hand with my imagination. The giant emerald hand smacks Kilowog across his chest and slams him against the wall.

"Christ that hurt."

Kilowog stumbles up from the floor and looks at me like he caught me trying to bang his daughter.

"You bastard..that's about it. As much as it pains me to say it, you passed. Get out of my sight, You'll get your ring tonight and you'll meet Abin Sur, your partner."

I leave the training room and head down the hallway when a tall, thin, pink skinned man stops me in the hallway. He's got a yellow ring on his finger.

"Your Guy Gardner, I read your file. You were in law enforcement back on your home world. I'd like to talk to you about joining up with my division of the Corps."

Sinestro looks up and I hear the thunder of his footsteps and the hiss of him taking in a breath.

"What the hell are you doing, Sinestro? You know Abin Sur has been partnerless for months now. I'm not letting you take another one."

"You have a problem with it, Kilowog. Take it up with the Guardians, I'm sure you know where they stand."

He stomps off mumbiling under his breath.

"So anyway, what's your division."

"Were called Divison Y. We do some of the dirtier stuff the Guardians don't want their green clad poster boys doing."

"And what is it that you do?"

He lets a devilish smile escape his lips.

"Black Ops, Mr. Gardner, Black Ops."

2 Months Ago
Oa

"If you join Division Y. You will learn alot more than you would as a regular Lantern. We can teach you how to take down a man without the use of your Power Ring....you see we use a diffrent type of power ring than the regular Corps. members. We can also teach you how to track down fugitives, interigation techniques, hand to hand combat, as well as how to shoot a blaster."

"So, when do we get started?"

"How about now...."

Now
Bolovax Vik

Now here I am, walking down the crowded streets of some godforsaken planet to meet a group of gun runners. I've got a blaster in my pocket and a knife strapped to my ankle. A yellow skinned woman with a pretty good body shoots me a smile and a come hither look. It doesn't matter what planet your from, cops can spot a hooker from a mile away. I might go visit her after all of this get's settled. I follow the directions Sinestro gave me all the way to a little back room in a seedy bar. A couple of men sit around a metallic table. One of them looks like a human, one's a space pig like Kilowog and one looks like a mix between a human and a hawk.

"You the human who wants to buy some arms."

The Space Pig speaks first. I guess he's the leader of the group.

"Yeah. I want to start a rebellion on my homeworld. They've never seen any of the **** you guys got here."

"Quin, pat him down. See what he's packing."

The half hawk/half human gets up and starts to pat on my arms and legs. He digs in my coat pockets and finds my blaster, then he moves down and pats down my jeans, he stops at my ankle and rolls up my pants leg. The knife emerges from my pants.

"I like the fact you came armed. Shows us that your a suspicous man and we don't do buisness with care-free people. What's up with that fanct ring you got on your hand? You a Lantern?"

I hold my hand up and show them my yellow ring.

"The ring is yellow, not green. See the diffrence."

"Alright, smartass. We'll give you 20,000 blaster rifles, 2,000 concussion grenades, and 250 Anti-Matter lauchers all for 2 million credits."

I let a smile escape my lips.

"Ring. Play all that back."

The space pig's voice comes out of my ring and echoes throughout the room.

"Alright, smartass. We'll give you 20,000 blaster rifles, 2,000 concussion grenades, and 250 Anti-Matter lauchers all for 2 million credits."

I point my ring at them and hope they don't realize I can't actually kill them with it.

"Green Lantern Coprs. Your under arrest. Get down on the ground now!"

The human and the hawkman oblige, but the space pig won't go down that peacefully. He pulls a blaster rifle out and starts to fire it. I'm lucky enough to get my shield up in time to watch the lasers bounce off of me and all around the room. One of the lasers hits a tank. The Hawkman let's a sqwak out and the space pig's eyes grow big.

"Oh ****."

BOOM!

The tank explodes and throws fire and smoke all through out the room. It knocks me down on the ground and I come close to having a chair leg go through my forehead. By the time I get up I see the human and the hawkman are burnt to a crips. The space pig's dead. A shard of the tank that blew up went across his throat and turned him into a pez dispenser.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!"

I root around in the space pig's pocket and pull out my blaster and knife, I find a roll of twenty credits and stuff them in my pocket. There's something else on him. It's a ledger book full of names a payments. It could come in handy. I leave the smoky room and head out to the street. The same hooker's standin on the corner and she sees me again and shoots me the same look.

"Lookin for a good time, sweetheart?"

I smile and shrug my shoulders.

"Sure. Why not?"

__________________
"These are the times that try men's souls... Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph."
-- Thomas Paine


"People never lie so much as after a hunt, during a war or before an election."
-- Otto von Bismarck


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Old 01-14-2007, 06:05 PM   #12
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Ion looks around Fourth World.

If this is a first assignment, then I'm going to dread the work in a few years. I've never seen anywhere like this. Well, it's pretty easy to figure out which of these is Apokolips. I guess I'll just skip the hellos and try and get this over with.

Ion shoots towards the planet that must be Apokolips. The planet is covered in smoke, fire, and brimstone. He plants his feet on the planet, and decides to make short work of this assignment.

"Darkseid! I am Ion! I demand that you cease all activities against Izaya! If you do not comply then I will be forced to use all that is at my disposal!"

The doors to what can only be the throne room open, and Ion cowers in fear of what stands before him.


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Old 01-14-2007, 09:40 PM   #13
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Default Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II

PRESENT DAY - TWO MONTHS LATER


Three weeks.

That's when I first realised I was dealing with another enemy some would classify as out of the ordinary. I remember it starting with a madman calling himself The Scarecrow, who I recently re-encountered during an attempted hostage situation involving one of the doctor's at the Arkham Rehabilitation Institution. Seeing Crane's fragile mind and lack of sanity at work on that night convinced me that I had encountered the worst this city has to offer.

Now, I find myself contradicted, upon this new threat. I should never assume as such. I did with the maniac calling himself The Joker... it was my mistake. And mistakes are something I'm trying desperately hard to avoid, lately.

It's only after minutes of roaming the empty hallways and interrogating one of the punks left to stand guard that I finally find myself witnessing the true scope of what I'm about to face. I'm inside the main chamber of the former Gotham Courthouse, clinging to a steel girder of a shadowed area. There are soles within my boots that were designed for electromagnetic output, so therefore, I'm hanging upside down quite literally like my apparent namesake. But even as the blood rushes to my brain, and the sweat beads off of my forehead underneath my cowl, it does little to ease the discomfort in seeing the sight in the middle of the room.

A sacrificial tomb has been built here by a band of religious zealots. Built to resemble what I can only describe as a mythical... almost vampirific abomination, it's hands burn a bright flame as it's lit by torches. In the center of the statue stands a man I've spent more than enough time tracking down. I don't know his actual name. But his clan of followers refer to him as simply "The Monk".

Wearing deep shades of crimson for his cloak, The Monk raises his hands, as his followers bow upon his movement. It makes me sick to know these people actually follow this madman, after all he's done within the past few weeks. Murder. Torture. Blackmail of the city's Mayoral council. Kidnapping. And all for his own sick and twisted goals of fabled immortality.

I'd go on with further criticism, but I... know a little something about extremists.

"My brothers! The time has come for us to show this acursed metropolis that the hour of judgement is coming! The citizens of this 'Gotham' shall soon learn the depth of their mistake in taking The Monk as nothing more than a mere nuisance!"

His beliefs are insane. And while one is generally entitled to their own beliefs... His crossed the line once he treaded to Gotham for murder. Once he gladly spilled blood in my city. His speech only confirms this.

"And the judgement shall start with it's leaders!"

Tonight, I came here for two reasons. One, to bring The Monk in for his acts of criminality. Two... because there are two individual lives at stake. Both of whom Bruce Wayne knows formally. One of which The Batman does, aswell. The newly elected mayor of Gotham City, Oswald Cobblepot. And the city's District Attorney... Rachel Dawes. Who of which has taken part in sharing the secret of my dual identity with Alfred.

I peer down at the center as two of Monk's followers drag a bound and gagged Cobblepot and Dawes into the room, infront of the tomb. I've got to save them at any cost, regardless of the fact that I've grown increasingly impatient with Cobblepot's inactivity towards the city's movement against it's own corruption. But I can't make my move. Not yet. There's a small army standing between me, the hostages, and The Monk. If I move now, I'm done for. More importantly, if I move now... they're done for.

"Watch, brothers, as we make the first sacrifice to our cause. Their blood shall boil within the bowels of the city's wickedness, casting a crimson moonlight over it's darkness!

The Monk's followers remove the gags, as both Cobblepot and Dawes breathe for possibly the first time in minutes.

"*wagh!*", Oswald coughs with a growl. "You'll pay dearly for this! Do you know who the hell I am?! Do you?!"

"SILENCE!", The Monk warns. "I care not for your Earthly titularies, mortal. For within the Monk's grasp, you are at his mercy, and his alone."

The Monk looks over at Rachel, and pauses. She looks defiant. Unafraid of the madman that lurks infront of her. I guess spending a few months trading court papers and evidence with me will do that to a person...

"You are... unafraid, woman?", He asks, grasping her lightly by the chin, forcing her to look up.

"Don't flatter yourself. There are scarier things in the world than a pretentious false prophet. Especially in Gotham.", She answers, bitterly.

"Oh?", He questions. "Like what, mortal?"

"Like me."

I leap out of the shadows, pushing myself into a dive as I spread my cape, over the crowd of Monk's followers. The gasps are enough to assure me that while their leader does strike some fear into them... they've yet to encounter my method of intimidation. Which works considerably.

"Behold, my brothers! The famed Batman!", He shouts, in astonishment. "It was only enevitable that we cross paths, Caped Crusader!"

...

"Caped Crusader"? That's certainly a new one...

I land infront of The Monk, letting my cape fall. Both hands go to the pouches of my belt, as a precaution, as I glare back at his group. They seem hesitant to come forth, as I turn back to their leader.



"Let them go. Now.", I demand, acknowleding Cobblepot and Dawes.

"You dare speak to The Monk in such a tone?", He asks, angered.

"-No. I dare speak to a criminal in such a tone.", I growl, stepping forward.

He steps back, slowly. For as much fear as he's tried to gather for himself, it seems as though he's not immuned to his own humanity. Which he is, by the way. He just doesn't happen believe that.

"Very well.", He states. "Then may Gotham be covered in your blood, instead!"

He turns, and runs. A bit cowardly, I think, at first... but that's until I realise that he's only sidestepping out of the way. In what seems like the same time, I find myself being rushed by the entire cult. Taking out twin Batarangs, mace, and a couple of smoke pellets from my belt, I grasp them all, and dive forward.

These people have been severely brainwashed by The Monk's disturbed teachings. So I guess that means I shouldn't try and hurt them. Much.

Letting the pellets go to my right, and the mace to my left, I grasp the Batarangs and click them both. They extend, each becoming more of a dual bladed battle weapon than a handheld disarment tool. I'll be sure to thank the boys at Wayne Electronics for this one... once I think up a suitable excuse for their absence, of course.

Spinning, I take the first two down with a roundhouse kick. Simple enough, but effective, given the sections of their ribcages that I hit. It should keep them down. Leaping into the air with a backflip, I take one's arm as he prepares to strike, and twist, throwing him from his feet and to the ground. Stomping on his windpipe so he doesn't make the mistake of getting up again, I take one of the 'Bat-Blades', as I call them, and begin to take a more brutal approach to this.

Slashing one across one's face, so it leaves a considerable wound, I kick him out of the way when elbowing another. Nothing fatal or severe... I've practiced this. Just enough to keep them all out of the hospital. With The Monk, on the other hand... I'm not sure if I'm as willing to keep that promise.

Taking down another four with a combination of jabs, trips, cuts, and nerve pinches, I look back to notice that The Monk is making his way towards Cobblepot and Dawes. Even after what I'm doing to his followers, he persists on going through with his sick 'sacrificing'.

No more. He's spilled blood for the last time in my city.

Throwing the Bat-Blades into the arms two others, pinning them to the wall, I take my grapnel from my belt and fire at the ceiling. Swinging upwards, I pull, and throw my feet forward, sharply. The Monk only has time to let out a gasp as my boots connect to his chest.

"NO!", He yells, grabbing onto my legs, attempting to climb. "It cannot end this way!"

Damn it. He's climbing fast. His grip is almost as hard as iron. If he makes it to my windpipe, he could choke the life out of me with ease. Have to get him off. Swinging sideways, I throw both myself and The Monk into the wall as hard as I can. The impact hurts me, of course... but hurts The Monk worse as he falls from me, and crashes into his own tomb.

He looks unconcious. Better make sure. Letting go of my line, I drop to the ground, and walk over, silently viewing his motionless form. My suspicions seem true, at first. But I notice a twitch in his hand, as he grabs something, and dives forward, grabbing me by the neck.

"AGH!"

A knife. He's got a knife. Won't do a thing against my armor... but if I get too close to the two hostages...

I thrust my body sideways, rolling along the ground with him as he tries to make the fatal wound. Bloodshot eyes beam out from the red hood he's adorned in.

"You shall pay for this! No one defies The Monk!"

I grit my teeth, struggling with his knife. I'm really getting sick of his banter... the man takes arrogance to a new level entirely.

Letting him go forward with the knife, I duck, letting the blade break on the floor. Shooting my head forwards, it connects with The Monk's nose, breaking it and knocking him off of me. As he grasps his nose in pain, I leap forward, sending a hard right hook to his face.

"You're wrong, Monk.", I say, ripping off his hood. "It can and will end like this."

Before he can get a word in edgewise, I send a brutal uppercut to his jaw, knocking him off of his feet and into a statue of Lady Justice. As he sinks to the floor, finally out, I drop his hood and stomp on it, once. A fitting end to this rather bizzaire chapter in my career...

Rushing back over to Cobblepot and Dawes, I take another Batarang, and split open their binds, releasing them.

"Are you both alright?", I ask.

"He's a madman!", Cobblepot yells, springing to his feet as I help Rachel up.

"-Yes. But he's out now. Ready for captu-"

"I wasn't talking about him!", Cobblepot snaps, turning back to me. "Why couldn't you have left this to the police?! This is their job, not your's!"

"With all due respect, Mayor... Both of you were almost killed tonight.", I answer.

"Yeah. By freaks in masks. Wonder where they got that idea!"

As he storms off, angrily, I remain silent.

Is he right? Was I responsible for all of this? I have to admit... it is rather strange how before I began this life, I never encountered such extreme cases of insane criminality. Which is part of the reason I was so unprepared for dealing with them. But considering their timing... I can't help but wonder.

"Don't let him get to you."

I turn, looking over at Rachel. She's... been quite the advocate for me. It's a quality I both question and admire.

"He's probably more angry at the fact that you took the publicity away from 'his' police force."

I look away.

"There are some cops that don't answer to Cobblepot.", I state, thinking of Gordon in particular.

"Yes, but whoever they are, they're in the minority at best.", She answers, as I begin to rub my neck. "You okay?"

"Rough night. Took me about two hours to get a lead on Monk's trail.", I answer.

"You should probably get some rest, then."

"Sounds pleasant.", I answer, before firing my grapnel to the ceiling, letting it sang. "But Bruce Wayne has a date tonight."

"I figured. I'll call tommorow about the Maroni case.", She says, absently. As if there's something else she wants to say.

"That all?"

She shrugs.

"I guess."

I nod, and press the button that begins my ascension to the skylight of the room. Must've been my imagination. But no matter... Gordon will arrive shortly to take care of The Monk and his followers. Now, I have a more pressing matter to be concerned with.

One named Julie Madison.

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Old 01-14-2007, 10:21 PM   #14
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Default Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II

"What fool dares bark orders to the ruler of Apokolips?!?!"


What have the Guardians gotten me into?
"You may call me Ion."


Darkseid begins laughing.

"Your masters are nothing more then fools. Tell me, did they tell you what I did to your predecessor?"

Ion's mask cannot disguise the fear that rises up in his chest.

"I thought not. Leave Apokolips now...while you still can."

A green fire surrounded Ion. The power of the central power battery radiates out engulfing all the objects in the vicinity and causes them to float around him.

"Darkseid, in accordance to the Guardian's wishes, I have been granted full access to the central power battery, and I will not hesitate to unleash every ounce of power that it holds to make you nothing more then a bad memory!"

Darkseid bursts out laughing like a madman. Suddenly, Apokolips begins shaking violently. Darkseid smirks and gets face to face with Ion.

"Your scare tactics won't work on me boy. You aren't allowed to deal out mass destruction. Too many innocents would be harmed."

"Let's just say that the central power battery is under new management. If the end justifies the means, I'd gladly take a slap on the wrist from the Guardians."

Kyle smiles from ear to ear, but Darkseid smiles bigger.

"I like you boy. When you grow tired of the Guardian's rule, let me know. I could always use another General. Tell your masters that this day is theirs. Now leave Apokolips."

Darkseid reenters his palace, and in the sky above his troops begin returning. Ion breathes a sigh of relief, and without more incident, he returns to Oa. He enters the hall where the Guardians reside. Ganthet looks at him in utter shock.

"Fool! Even with the power that you contain, Darkseid could have destroyed you without a moment's hesitation. Simply because you are our ambassador doesn't mean that you are immortal!"

"You mean I just stood up to that monster and he could have sneezed on me and killed me?!"

".....Yes. Now return to your chambers and consult your guide. You have much to learn."


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Old 01-14-2007, 11:42 PM   #15
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Quote:
Originally Posted by byrd_man View Post
I rev the Lamborghini's engine and hear it purr like a newborn kitten. Granpops leans his head in the window.

"Take the flood control tunnels out to Brooklyn. Follow O.M.A.C.'s instructions."

"O.M.A.C.?"

"Yeah, It's one of my unoffical inventions. It stands for Omnipotent Micro Analyzing Computer. It's like GPS on steroids. This bad boy can find flys on horse ****."

"That's really good to know. So what exactly am I going after tonight?"

"Whatever you see. Any crime you stop helps the world. I'll be touch with an earpeice. Now get out of here, and Allah be with you."

"Yeah, same to you."

I roll up the window and wait as the garage door opens. I shift into first and shoot out the door and into the night.

Welcome to O.M.A.C. State your name.

"TerryTheodore Holt."

Name accepted....Welcome Mr. Terrific please state your course

"Brooklyn, New York."

One second...route planned, take next right

I speed up and take a right into the New York aquaduct, heading towards Brooklyn.

6 Years Ago

WHAM!

I fall to the floor and spit out one of my back molars. This Ted guy might be old, but damn he can hit hard.

"Get up Terry."

"Ya see, kid. Those fancy moves don't mean a damn thing if you can't execute the basics."

I manage to get up on my feet and get into my Judo defensive stance. He dances around like he's a twenty year old.

"Come on, lets see what'ca got."

He throws a punch and I grab him, flip him over my shoulder and onto the floor.

"Way to go, kid. You learned how to take down an old man."

He get's up and pulls a switchblade out of his pocket.

"Now let's see if you can disarm an old man."

Now

My car speeds down the Brooklyn Bridge. I can see Gotham's lights across the bay.

"Alright, find a place to park the car"

"And then?"

"Then? Then the work starts."

By the time midnight rolls around. I've been up and down Brooklyn's street tops once and I'm about to start the second go around when I hear it.

BLAM! BLAM!

Two shots ring out and break the semi-silence that's the New York night.

"I heard it. The two shots came from the corner Miller and Kirby street. It looks like two gang members are about to rob a Korean Grocery."

I speed off towards where the shots came from.

"How the hell did you know where the shots were fired at?"

"I got a visual on you too. I've got raw feeds from hundreds of communication satellites, some Holt Electronics, some are hacked from Lexcorp and the U.S. Army. Just hurry up and get there."

I leap from one rooftop to another. Before I can get to the edge of one roof, I can tell I won't make it to the next roof without help. I hold out my right hand and ball it up into a fist, the pressure from my hand releases a built in gas powered grappiling hook. The hook latches onto the roof's air conditioning unit and reels me over the gap between roof tops. I'm off and running as soon as my feet hit the roof's gravel. By the time I reach the croner of Miller and Kirby, I can hear the two men arguing and the sounds of a woman yelling.

"Shut up ***** and fill the sack. We don't want any trouble."

I leap off the roof top and crash through a window. It may not be the best way to approach the situation, but sometime theatrics can be powerful. I survey the scene: There are two young black men at the counter, one's wearing a backward Mets ballcap he's the one with the gun. The other man has a switchblade and he's waving it at the old Korean woman behind the counter.

"You don't want any trouble? Too bad, you found some."



I roundhouse kick the gun out of ballcap's hand and grab switchblade by his right hand. My hand twist his hand and I hear a solid crunch as his wrist breaks.

"Oh god! My hand. He broke my goddamn hand."

Ballcap starts to get his wits about him and he goes after his gun. I dash off after him and kick his legs out from underneath him. He falls hard on his elbow and I hear it pop. I hear switchblade lumbering up behind me. I turn to face him and use a judo move to flip him over my shoulder and onto the floor. They don't make much noise as they slowly blackout. It all happens within a minutes time. The old Korean lady managed to get the gun behind the counter, she's pointing it at me with a scared look in her eyes.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. Call the police. They won't stay down too long."

She slowly puts down her gun and stares at me.

"Who are you?"

I start to walk out, but I turn to her before I leave.

"Just call me Mister Terrific."

__________________
"These are the times that try men's souls... Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph."
-- Thomas Paine


"People never lie so much as after a hunt, during a war or before an election."
-- Otto von Bismarck


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Old 01-15-2007, 01:12 AM   #16
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Sin plagued his mind, as he walked through the streets of a world he could feel nothing but out of place in. The sin was not his own. But the sins of others, rather. He had tried to control it the best possible way he could, but like everything in his life as of late, he felt like a bit of a failure at attempting that too.

To the people he walked amongst, there was no such thing as his kind. Never any life on Mars. No 'aliens'. No martians. No J'onn J'onnz. For one small moment, he wished as though he could be covinced of the same... that none of it had happened. That his grief in knowing the truth would just evaporate as if it were nothing. But alas, J'onn's wish never came.

Adopting one of his many human aliases, one he had named "Whedon" after one of his favorite modern day authors, J'onn strolled down the streets of Middleton lost in his own little world. He had no friends to visit. No clients to speak with. No... companion. Essentially, he was just as alone as he usually classified himself to be. But today, he had told himself, was not a day of grief. Today was a day of peace... enjoyment. It was only discouraging that J'onn had to choose this particular day on a rainy Sunday evening.

But nevertheless, J'onn continued walking, heading to his office. It would be easier to take shelter there than to make the tread back home, because in actuality, J'onn had been walking since the early morning. It was perhaps one of the only true hobbies he had aqquired since he joined the Earthly culture.

Making his way up fifth street, J'onn made sure no one was looking as he formed a long, leather rainjacket onto his body. If he chose to walk the rest of the way when he could easily fly, the least he could do for himself was prevent himself from getting all the more soaked while doing it.

Watching as a group of kids played within the rain on the opposite side of the street, J'onn smiled. Though sin did cloud his thoughts and telepathy when he usually reached out to humankind... It's innocence could truly be a sight to behold, sometimes. It reminded him of life on Mars, with the younglings. And perhaps... innocence was the only true thing that J'onn had not lost from his former life.

Making his way up the steps to his office, J'onn immediatley switches forms from Whedon to Johnathan Jones, as he turns the corner to the front door. Opening it, he walks inside, and smiles as he notices his secretary at the front desk.

"Aubrey.", Johnathan mentions. "You didn't have to work this evening. I gave you the day off, if I recall."

"Can't help it, John.", Aubrey Sparks answers, looking up at her employer with a shrug. "Guess I just wanted to finish filing those reports on the missing person's case before tommorow."

"Nonsense.", John answers, realising she had been there for a few hours at most, from her thoughts. "A young woman like you should be out enjoying herself. Worry about work when the time comes."

She smirks.

"On a rainy night like this?"

"Well, you've got me there.", John answers, with a small laugh. "Just try not to overwork yourself. Life is far too-"

"Far too short. I know.", She says, sticking her tongue out at John. "You always say that."

"And it rings true, even to this day.", John replies, before walking into his office and shutting the door behind him.

He waited minutes. Told himself he wouldn't do it. But eventually, J'onn found himself pouring the glass of whiskey that he had known he wouldn't be able to resist. He had desperately tried to overcome the habit, but in the end, J'onn came to a simple conclusion: In this day and age, there was nothing else worth it.

Except, perhaps... love., He thought to himself, with a frown.

Aubrey Sparks was one of the few human beings that J'onn had come to truly admire. Though he tried not to probe her mind, or anyone else's, on a regular occasion... Whenever he did, he certainly didn't find anything depressing or sinful. She was a good person. Perhaps... too good. Because as much as J'onn wanted to love again... part of him didn't feel right in persuing it. Especially after losing his wife and children on Mars. So when thoughts of Aubrey filled his head, he drowned them out the best that he could with whiskey.

As J'onn sighed to himself in dispair, looking at the bottle, He heard a scream. Turning, sharply, J'onn stood from his chair and looked out of his window. From what he could see, a woman was being chased through one of the darker alleyways near the building. And from the loudness and distress of her screams, J'onn quickly deduced that she did not wished to be chased by her would-be attacker.

Making sure the door was locked on his office door, J'onn levitated into the air, and phased through the wall. As he did, his form began to morph considerably. Gone was the lightly skinned, brown haired form of John Jones. In his place was a mysterious figure that the newspapers of Middleton had only caught glimpses of, in the past few years. They didn't know whether he was a protector or invader, and quite frankly, neither did he. But he knew that he felt a sense of duty to stop whatever was happening, and fast.

Phasing through various walls of various buildings, J'onn watched as the woman was cornered by her attacker. The man, holding a gun, pointed it directly at her.

"Gimme' the purse, lady. Or I swear ta' god..."

Though she was hesitant, J'onn watched as she complied, fearfully releasing the purse into his grasp. The attacker dug through it, frantically, looking for any valubles. But finding no money, as J'onn learned was his true motive from the man's thought, the attacker immediatley turned on the woman with the gun once more.

"No cash?!", He yelled. "Oh, screw this. This was a waste'a time. Say goodbye, b****."

As the woman cowered for her very life, the thug was stunned as the gun evaporated from his hand in an instant.

"What the-"

"I believe the wording you had used was... 'Goodbye, B****'."

The thug turned around, fully expecting a cop. But what he saw was much, much worse to him, as he looked to the raining skies, to see a sight seen by very few. For what he saw wasn't the only living Martian on Earth, or even the true kindred spirit that the being actually was. What he saw was The Manhunter from Mars. And it didn't take long to realise that he was the hunted.


"Unhand the woman's purse. Before I am forced to display brutality."

The thug's jaw dropped, as did the woman's purse, as he turned, and ran for his life. J'onn watched this, a bit disappointed. He could easily persue the criminal... but at what purpose? J'onn could already tell from the fleeing man's thoughts that his prescence had already taught him a very valuble lesson: Do not become a criminal in Middleton.

"T-Thank... Thank you..."

J'onn turned back, hearing the woman's grateful murmurs, as she slowly gathered her posessions.

"W-Whatever you are, I mean.", She continued, astonished.

J'onn smiled. He was no longer disappointed, considering that this had been the first person he had ever saved that was truly grateful. At least, she was behind the obvious and expected fear of him, J'onn realised as he caught wind of her thoughts.

"There is no need for thanks.", J'onn answers. "Only need know this..."

J'onn turned, and phased through the nearest wall, disappearing from the area. But his voice remained in the woman's mind for the final part of his sentance.

~You Have A Protector~

By the time Aubrey had finished her paperwork and filing, she got up, and knocked on John's door to say goodbye.

"John? John, I'm leaving..."

Realising the door was locked, she raised an eyebrow.

"John?"

A moment passed. She contemplated knocking harder, but eventually, she looked down to see the doorknob turn, and John's smiling face greet her as the door creaked open.

"Sorry,", He stated. "I must've dozed off. What were you saying, Aubrey?"

"I said I'm leaving. I decided to take your advice after all and go home.", She said, with a smile. "You mind locking up?"

"It'd be no problem.", John answered. "Goodnight, Aubrey."

"'Night, John.", She said, walking out as she grabbed her keys and purse from her desk.

Watching her leave, John smiled to himself as he picked up on one particular thought of her's.

~I like the guy. But he can be very strange, sometimes...~

Shutting the door to his office, John sat back down in his chair, and took a sip of whiskey. In the end, it really didn't matter if he had let the criminal go. Because now, suddenly... J'onn didn't find himself in grief anymore. Even for a small moment.

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Old 01-15-2007, 01:50 AM   #17
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"Don't worry kid. You did alright. It took stones to stand up to Darkseid, even if you didn't know what he was capable of."

"I've got to ask. What exactly did Darkseid do to you?"

"You don't want to know."

"That bad huh?"

"There's more reasons I retired then just my family."

"What is your name?"

"I already told you. My name isn't important."

"Fine. At least tell me about yourself."

"I guess that won't hurt. My journey to becoming Ion was very different then yours. When my tale started, I was a railroad engineer just as my father before me. My dad was a New York subway employee back in the 30's. They used to wave a red lantern to stop a train whenever track work was being done, and whenever the track was clear, they used to wave a green lantern for the train to continue on. On my father's death bed, he passed his green lantern to me. Whether my father knew exactly what the lantern was or not is another story. I guess it doesn't really matter. The lantern turned out to have been left by a previous Green Lantern who had crash landed and died. Apparently the Guardians sensed something in me necessary for the job. At the time of my appointment, the Lantern order was just being laid out. Truthfully, I'm not even sure what year it is or how long I've been here. I could even be dead right now. There's no way to know for sure."

Kyle smiles.

"Hell, from the sound of it, I could be your reincarnation."


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Old 01-15-2007, 04:57 PM   #18
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“NO ONE CAN STOP THE LEECH!”

I cross my arms and raise my eyebrow, studying the man before me. Decked out in what looked like a gray sausage he held up the jewels in his hands. I twist my mouth around and his face under the mask goes red with indignation.

“NO ONE! YOU SINGING BROAD!” He says pulling a gun out and pointing it at me. Why does Batman get the ‘killer’ ones and I get the jokes?

“I don’t sing.” I sigh and jump forward with a kick, the gun goes flying through the air landing on the ground with a spin as I twist and bring my heel to his chin. I straighten up and watch him as he weaves back and forth like a branch in the wind, before fate sends him forward in a slow-motion sprawl.

I lean over and gracefully pick up the bags and the jewels. Yep, all in a nights work. As I set to work tying him up I can think of only one person to thank. Batman. His nightly escapades keep him on the front page, and me on the back, making it the only reason my family hasn’t found out.

I pull the mans mask off revealing a freckled face and brown shoot of thinning hair. There was a sensibleness about him I hardly ever saw in Gotham. Poor guy, I bet he just hit rough times. Leaning over I give him a kiss on the cheek, leaving a large lip mark there, before sending a call to GCPD.

I swing my way to the roof and land lightly before stretching and yawning. Maybe I should call it a night, after all I have a date tonight. A feeling of pleasure ripples through me as I think about Jason. We were now ‘officcially’ a couple, as of a month ago, and when I addressed him as my ‘Boyfriend’, to Mom I think the joy of one of her children’s marriages would be the only thing to outshine Mom's smile then. Slam had been equally as pleased and poor Harv, I think he was still hoping. Both Josh and Howard had taken Jason out and miraculously he’d come back on one piece and without being too scared out of him mind to touch me. Only one test he hadn’t taken yet, and that was with Ted. I’d actually whimped out on that one and had mom relay the ‘good’ news.

I race along the rooftops, leaping and somersaulting over the canyon’s between them. It felt good to be out. So much had happened and my life was somewhat easy now. Batman had been slowly working his way through the Mafia and tackling literally any other masked weird-O that came his way. Oddly it had resulted in a boon of extra work for me as the Police force under the new Mayor had been focusing on the ‘big’ cases to compete with Batman. I’d gotten a slew of robberies, kidnappings and other assorted that had fallen between the cracks and my record was now 2-10. Pretty good for two months.

A flash of light out of the corner of my eye caught me in mid-flip and I landed with a thud on the roof. Gingerly standing I rubbed my sore rump as good feelings left. I blinked a few times before it registered. A giant spotlight shone on the clouds with a *now* familiar symbol.

A ‘Bat-symbol’. Oh, Lord…next he’s gonna be on a lunchbox.
I grit my teeth, I’m used to it by now, being second string to him. Still it doesn’t really ease my feelings any. I sigh, I live in the past to much. This isn’t the glory years where everyone helps everyone. And what do you expect from such an arrogant jerk anyway?
I quickly make it the rest of the way to the office and slip in through the window.

Sometimes I feel genuinely sorry for the DA dating him.

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Old 01-15-2007, 07:13 PM   #19
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Quote:
Originally Posted by byrd_man View Post
By the time midnight rolls around. I've been up and down Brooklyn's street tops once and I'm about to start the second go around when I hear it.

BLAM! BLAM!

Two shots ring out and break the semi-silence that's the New York night.

"I heard it. The two shots came from the corner Miller and Kirby street. It looks like two gang members are about to rob a Korean Grocery."

I speed off towards where the shots came from.

"How the hell did you know where the shots were fired at?"

"I got a visual on you too. I've got raw feeds from hundreds of communication satellites, some Holt Electronics, some are hacked from Lexcorp and the U.S. Army. Just hurry up and get there."

I leap from one rooftop to another. Before I can get to the edge of one roof, I can tell I won't make it to the next roof without help. I hold out my right hand and ball it up into a fist, the pressure from my hand releases a built in gas powered grappiling hook. The hook latches onto the roof's air conditioning unit and reels me over the gap between roof tops. I'm off and running as soon as my feet hit the roof's gravel. By the time I reach the croner of Miller and Kirby, I can hear the two men arguing and the sounds of a woman yelling.

"Shut up ***** and fill the sack. We don't want any trouble."

I leap off the roof top and crash through a window. It may not be the best way to approach the situation, but sometime theatrics can be powerful. I survey the scene: There are two young black men at the counter, one's wearing a backward Mets ballcap he's the one with the gun. The other man has a switchblade and he's waving it at the old Korean woman behind the counter.

"You don't want any trouble? Too bad, you found some."



I roundhouse kick the gun out of ballcap's hand and grab switchblade by his right hand. My hand twist his hand and I hear a solid crunch as his wrist breaks.

"Oh god! My hand. He broke my goddamn hand."

Ballcap starts to get his wits about him and he goes after his gun. I dash off after him and kick his legs out from underneath him. He falls hard on his elbow and I hear it pop. I hear switchblade lumbering up behind me. I turn to face him and use a judo move to flip him over my shoulder and onto the floor. They don't make much noise as they slowly blackout. It all happens within a minutes time. The old Korean lady managed to get the gun behind the counter, she's pointing it at me with a scared look in her eyes.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. Call the police. They won't stay down too long."

She slowly puts down her gun and stares at me.

"Who are you?"

I start to walk out, but I turn to her before I leave.

"Just call me Mister Terrific."
RING! RING!

The alarm clock goes off and my head feels like it's two sizes too small. I haven't felt like this since I use to wake up hung over in college. Now those were the good ole days, I had my own place in Gotham and studied medicine. I reach over and hit my answering machine.

BOOP

You have 3 new messages, first message.

"Terry? You there? It's Sommer, I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight.....I guess not, call me."

BOOP

Second message.

"Hey, boy. I know your sleeping. I wanted to go over some of last night's footage when you get off work tonight aswell as plan out routes in the Bronx, Queens, Harlem, and Spanish Harlem. You also made the paper, not the front page though. That went to the Batman and him saving the mayor and D.A. of Gotham, but you're on page two. Just call me later, bye."

BOOP

Third message.

"Terry, Dr. Jacobs here at Sacred Heart. I wanted to tell you that we got approval for the surgery, Mr. Stark wants us to operate on that tumor in his head. I'll talk to you when you get in this afternoon. Bye."

BOOP

End of messages

I manage stumble out of bed and put on a T-Shirt. It's 11 A.M. now and I'm not on call until 1, I head to the front door and get my paper, while the Batman did make the front page, I'm a page behind him.

Masked Vigilante Saves Korean Grocery
By Matthew Johnson

In a blur of red and black Sim Yung's Grocery was saved from it's second robbery of this month. The two assalants, indentified as Renaldo Balkman and Sidney Rice both of Brooklyn adresses, were knocked unconscious by what Mrs. Sim Yung descriped as "A man who flew through the window and took them down in less than a minute". Rice was hospitalized for a broken wrist while Balkman suffred a dislocated elbow in the process. Mrs. Yung couldn't identify the man's face although she gave a criptic clue. "He had a T on his face, a big, black T." She also said he told her to call him Mister Terrific. Whoever this masked man was, Mrs. Yung was extemely grateful. "Not only did he save my buisness and money, he also save my life."

I shrug my shoulders as I head on in. It's a start.

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Old 01-16-2007, 04:02 PM   #20
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Normally, Peter Cobb loved coming from work. It meant that he could sit down in his favorite chair, open up a cold beer and read the paper.
His wife would cook him a great meal, like usual, and afterwards they would watch TV together.
This was a special night however. After they had tried and tried, Jennifer was finally pregnant. Peter had suggested they go out to dinner, to celebrate.
But it wouldn't be because of this, that Peter would remember this night.
When he came home, Peter immediately sensed that something was wrong.
The air inside was hot and the whole house smelled of...burnt meat.
That's when everything went black.
Peter awoke in his favorite chair. Bound.

"Finally! I thought you'd never wake up! Here, have a beer"

Peter tried to scream out, but he couldn't. He tried to move, but he couldn't.
All he could think of was Jennifer. Jennifer and the baby.

"No? Sure? Alright then, more for me." The man standing next to Peter cracked open a can of beer and took a sip. "Goddamn, that's great juice. So, anyway. I bet there are like, a thousand questions running through your mind, right? I'll answer some of them for you. Yes, that's burning human you smell. No, this suit doesn't come in black. There. We good? Good."

The man reached towards Peter's mouth, and removed the piece of cloth he had stuffed there.
"
"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU MOTHERF***ER!! WHERE'S MY WIFE!!! I'M GOING TO F***--"

Heat Wave's fist slammed into Peter's nose, smashing it. He screamed in agony as crimson poured down his face.

"One thing you need to know about me, is that I do not take kindly to cussing. I may incinerate people, but that's no excuse for being a potty-mouth. Yo--...Oh *****, your blood just will NOT stop pouring out of your nose. Sorry about that. My temper tends to flare up.
Back to why I came here. I--"

"W...wberebs....by wibe...Jenn.n.."

This time, Heat Wave's fist made contact with Peter's stomach.

"Please..don't interrupt me. Like I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted...Last night I'm sitting at home, right? I'm reading the paper, skimming through the usual Batman sighting crap, and what do I see...but your picture on the 3rd page. The headline?"

Heat Wave reached under the table across from him and threw the previous day's newspaper on to it. Sure enough, Peter's picture was on the third page, the following headline read

"Mob lawyer keeps quiet on heist money location"

Peter looked at the story and tried to speak, but he no longer could. His own blood seemed to be mostly outside his body by now, and all he could think of was that the love of his life, and their child were safe.

"Oh son of a...Still on the wife, eh?" Heat Wave turned the chair Peter was tied to, giving him a view to the kitchen. On the kitchen floor, Jennifer's body lay still, her face burnt off. The sight caused Peter to vomit and sob uncontrollably, neither making much more than the slightest sound.

"Oh there, there...If it makes you feel any better, she screamed a LOT. Oh, and I was rooting through the garbage, you know, a service I offer, and imagine my suprise when I found a pregnancy test, wich was very much a positive! I got two for the price of one! Lucky me, lucky me."

Peter Cobb was a broken man, bound to the chair, sitting in his own blood and vomit, sobbing.

"I don't know if you know this, Peter, but you are very lucky. I could be some common mob thug. But no. You get to be tortured by Heat Wave! I'm almost famous, you know! Ahahahahaha"

His laugh cut through the air like a knife.

"So, back to the point. Where's the money, honey? Come on, Peter, tell me where it is. 25 million dollars could buy me a spiffy new costume you know. It's quite a lot. So, where is it?"

By this point, Peter couldn't answer even if he wanted to.

"Going with the sobbing, eh? That's okay. I didn't expect to get any answers, really. This was just for fun. You gotta have some hobbies, am I right Petey? Hehe. Yeah. Well, no time to dillie-dally, I must be on my way if I want to get my beautiful hands on that cash. Congratulations on the baby, man. And your wife must be using the right brand of face cream, she looks gorgeous!"

Heat Wave had no use for the money. To be honest, his parents had left him enough. This was just his hobby.
He made his way through the house, wich was beautifully made he noted to himself, and as he opened the front door, he heard Peter's scream cover every inch of the house.
Heat Wave had put one of his gasoline explosives under Peter's chair, so if he tried to move, first he would burn to death, quite slowly, and then his house would go up in flames.
Heat Wave wished he could stay and watch the beauty unfold, but he had other plans.
He smiled at the thought of Peter slowly burning to a crisp at this very moment, and responded

"I love you too, honey! Kisses!"




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Old 01-16-2007, 05:43 PM   #21
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Default Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II

"Does it ever get easier?"

"You want the truth or a pleasant white lie?"

"The truth."

"No....in fact it gets worse. I imagine your connections are almost nonexistent as of yet. They'll only grow stronger. Every ounce of pain inflicted anywhere in the universe will eat at you like the girl that got away. Every single life that ends while you retain your powers as Ion will feel like a part of your soul being extinguished. You'll feel the urge to try and work outside the Guardian's boundaries, but you can't. It only causes more pain and suffering."

"So that's what that feeling is." says Kyle with a tear falling from his eye.

"It looks like I was right in choosing you. You're experiencing senses that you shouldn't be able to tap into for months."

"How do you deal with it? How do you keep yourself from going crazy or wanting to kill yourself?!"

"I wish I could tell you it's that simple. This is all part of why I chose you. The longer I retained the position of Ion, the less connected I became with my humanity. No being should wield the power that we do without a conscience guiding your every move. As far as wanting to kill yourself, you're in for the long haul kid. You can't die. You won't age. The only way you can die is for the central battery to be destroyed, and the only person capable of that will be you. You'll want to, believe me. I even tried once or twice, but what I realized is that my pain and loneliness was insignificant when compared to the scope of good that I was capable of. One day, after you've fulfilled your duty, you'll find your replacement, and you'll be free of your burden."

"I'm ready to do that now."

"Unfortunately, it isn't your choice to make. When it's time, the Guardians will let you know."

"So I'm nothing more then a puppet. What a ****ing joke!"

"I'm here for a reason son. I'm here to help you share your burden."

"Yeah, I bet a digital hologram will work wonders! Do know how stupid that sounds?!"

The previous wielder of the title Ion reaches out his hand to Kyle.

"My name is Alan Scott, and just because my time as Ion has passed doesn't mean that this digital imprint of me doesn't contain my humanity."

Kyle grabs the man's hand.

"Alan? It's nice to put a name to the face. Thank you."

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Old 01-16-2007, 09:49 PM   #22
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Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II

His name is Harold Jordan. He has faced down numerous threats beyond the scope of human imagination. He has fought space pirates, 5th dimensional serial killer, genocidal immortals, and intergalactic criminal masterminds. In the space of just over a year, he has seen and experienced things that only a half dozen humans have before him. And now, he faces his biggest challenge to date.


The therapist.


Hal sits on a bench in a waiting room. The room is colored a very flourescent green, which he is begining to become quite sick of. As he is the only person in the waiting room, he has spent the last 20 minutes reading a Durlanian women's magazine. The therapist opened the door to let her patient out just as Hal had reached an article on Protoplasm Care: Do's and Don'ts.

"Hal Jordan?"

Hal looks up, only partially aware of his surroundings.

"Hm?"

"I'm ready to see you know." She says.

Hal gets up and enters the therapist's office. As he does so, he takes notice of her. By her people's standards, she is quite atractive. However, by Hal's standards, she's rather odd looking. A darkish red skin with a texture that is almost indescribable, apendages the likes of which he's never yet encountered, and a face so strangely put together that he wonders how it functions at all. Still, he thinks, pretty nice breasts.

Hal takes a seat on a blue leather chair in the middle of the room. The therapist sits in the chair oppose him.

"So, this is your first psych evaluation." She says.

"Yup."

"Well, to start iff, my name is Doctor Telkar. Now, Mr. Jordan, tell me about yourself."

"My name's Hal Jordan, I'm a pilot, and I'm a GL."

"Anything else?"

"There isn't much else to me."

"Oh, from my experience, nobody's that much of an open and shut case."

Silence lingers in the office for a few moments. During this time, the most ferverent thing on Hal's mind is how much longer he has to be there.

"So." Says Doctor Telkar, breaking the silence. "Why don't you tell me about how you were inducted into the corps?"

"You really want to know?"

"I'd love to hear it...."

"Alright..."


It was about a year ago, on my homeworld. Earth. You've probably never heard of it. It's kind of back water by the standards of the greater intergalactic community. Anyway, on Earth, I was a test pilot. My job was to test aircraft for the military. I worked for Ferris Aircraft, the company that made the planes. On that particular day, I was testing a new stealth fighter that Ferris had koocked up. I don't know if you know much about planes, but this baby was a sight to beheld.

Anyway, I was at an altitude of 1,000 feet, when my instruments starting failing. My com was picking up nothing but static. Since I was essentially flying blind, I started to turn back to base, when the back of the plane got hit by something. It threw the engines out, and I started plummeting. At this point I was trying to pull the plane up while simultainiously praying to my dear and fluffy lord. Just when I was about to hit the ground, everything just started to slow down, and then it stopped. The plane touched the ground with a soft thud. It took me a second to realize that everything was glowing green. I looked out my window, and saw a man, floating mid air with this aura of green light around him. I opened my cockpit, looked out, and said "What the hell are you?"

He looked down at me with this vaguely condascending look, and said:



"I am Abin Sur, Green Lantern of Space Sector 2814."

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Old 01-16-2007, 11:33 PM   #23
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Default Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II


Alfred once told me that I have an issue with guilt. I become too involved in what I do, and I let it creep into my everyday life. I thought he was making a big deal out of nothing... but times like this prove his point true with every passing day.

It's been two hours since I left the Gotham Courthouse, leaving the madman calling himself The Monk for the police. And as hard as I tried to ignore it... I haven't been able to shake Cobblepot's accusation that The Batman is responsibile for the bizarre criminality in Gotham City. And despite my efforts to prove the opposite... that I'm trying to be the solution, not the problem... I can't think of a reason why Cobblepot is wrong beyond pure circumstance.

When I returned to Gotham after those years abroad, I came back to a city plagued in corruption. The city was caught in a gang war, and was held at the mercy of mafia leaders. It was in peril. And someone had to put an end to it. So I decided that it was time to embark on a mission I had trained and waited for since the moment my parents fell victim to the city's evils. I thought I was doing something selfless... something that would better the situation and allow the city to move forward instead of treading backwards.

But the moment I decided to don a cape and cowl as apart of that mission, everything changed. The mafia slowly declined in it's activites, sure. And I admit that over time, I began to encounter less and less criminality in any form. But in it's place came something I could've never expected. The Scarecrow. Mr. Freeze. Two-Face. The Joker. Poison Ivy. The Monk.

The list goes on and on... but they all follow a similar pattern. They abandon their own civillian personas in place for a more theatrical form. Sometimes it proves to be easier to deal with... but moreso, it proves all the more dangerous for the city's welfare, and more difficult to control. And in the midst of it all... I can't help but wonder if I set an example to the wrong crowd. I created Batman to inspire the good in Gotham... but the only people to respond to his arrival were the evil.

So... what is there to do now?

"Don't they ever, like, annoy you?"

I turn, looking over at my date, confused. I became lost in my thoughts again. I hate it when I do that.

"Huh? I'm sorry... what did you say?", I ask.

Julie points to the window of the limoseine. I lean forward, peering out. A flash of light makes that a mistake, as I lean back, rubbing my eyes from the flash.

Paparazzi. Again. Everytime I go out anymore, I just seem to attract more and more of them. It doesn't seem to matter who I choose to be anymore... Batman attracts insanity. Bruce Wayne attracts... well, them.

"I'm definatley not a fan.", I mention, with a smirk. "But you kinda get used to it, I guess."

She grins.

"I know what you mean. Like, seriously. No matter where daddy takes me, they seem to come out of no where. I'm always like 'Whoah. I'm just trying to get a lattee, here.'. Y'know?"

Is it me, or has she said 'like' in every sentence she's spoken since I met her?

I just smirk and nod, hiding my discomfort. I really don't know what I'm doing here. Then, I remember: I'm doing it to keep my sociability intact. I've been told numerous times that I'm slipping more and more into the Batman persona than I am at making an effort to be Bruce Wayne. Sometimes I just want to tell Alfred to have me declared dead and get it over with...

And it's not that she's not a nice person... She actually has very good qualities. She's highly attractive and has an innocence that I find appealing. But... we barely have anything in common. We're from completely different worlds, yet essentially the same ones, all at the same time. She was born into near royalty. I was born into near royalty. But she stayed in that world... I abandoned it to train and study. She seems to have an overall carefree view on the world. I'm trying my hardest to make the world a better place... or at least Gotham.

Just get through it tonight, Bruce. Tonight. That's all anyone asked.

"So...", She says, sliding in her seat so she's closer to me. "Like, is running a company all there is to you?"

I raise an eyebrow, before laughing a little.

"-I'd like to think not, but... maybe.", I respond. "I guess you could say work is my life."

Thinking about it now... that's a bit more truthful than I intended.

"Oh, come on. You've gotta have some fun, like... sometimes, right?"

..."Fun". Quite honestly, I barely even know what I classify as such anymore. And if I do find anything, I'd almost be afraid of what it would be, given my current life.

"Well, that's why I go out.", I respond. "Nothing beats a night of partying and booze, y'know?"

She nods.

"Totally."

...

If there's another word for 'modern stereotype'...

Finally, the car slows down, and I spot our destination outside. A nightclub... Dulche', I think is what they call it. It sounded Seeing the people who are waiting to get in, outside, I'm beginning to regret this more than ever. I shouldn't be here. I should be working harder at trying to prove Cobblepot wrong. But I know that if I back out now, it'll become harder to do that. People will start suspicion. Suspicion that could lead to revealations about what Bruce Wayne really does with his time...

It's going to be a long night.



"...Batman?"

It took eleven minutes before the conversation drifted back to my work. And it's not even intentional, on her part. But as the night lingers on, I feel like I can't escape it.

"No, I've never met him. I don't even think the guy's real, to be honest.", I answer, with a chuckle so forced that I'm practically using every nerve in my body just to get it out. "I think he's just some kind of marketing thing. Probably for a new Barcardi brand, or something..."

She smiles at that. Apparentally the forcefulness is working...

"That's funny.", She responds. "Daddy claimed he saw him once. I think it was at one of his companies. It was, like, being held hostage by some creep called The Condiment King, or something."

...Not one of my better outings, but I remember it. Norman Madison's fundraiser was interrupted by a man using packets of ketchup and mustard as his only form of weaponry. The only reason the man was actually taken seriously was because the guest of honor mistook his cellphone for a gun. By the time I arrived on the scene, I realised the truth of the situation.

Took a hell of a long time for Alfred to get the smell of tarter sauce off of my suit, but I'm grateful he eventually did.

"Interesting.", I answer, taking another sip of martini. "So, anyway... moving on from costumed weirdos and all... wanna dance?"

She excitedly nods and grabs my hand, nearly pulling me over the table.

"I thought you'd never ask!"

I can only pretend, at this point, that I'm having a good time. But all I can dwell on is my own guilt. It consumes me, even on the dancefloor, amist the loud music and the multicolor of blinding neon.

Damn it. Alfred was right...

As Julie and I begin making our way into the large crowd, a new song begins playing. It's kind of dark, actually, for a setting like this. Maybe that's why it's actually catching my attention...

All that I'm living for,
All that I'm dying for,
All that I can't ignore alone at night

I can feel the night beginning,
seperate me from the living,
understanding me,
after all I've seen,
piecing every thought together,
find the words to make me better,
If I only knew how to pull myself apart

All that I'm living for,
All that I'm dying for,
All that I can't ignore alone at night,
All that I'm wanted for,
Although I wanted more,
Lock the last open door-
My ghosts are gaining on me


Huh. Oddly, coming here tonight doesn't seem that bad of an idea after all. As I begin joining the people around us in movement, I can't help but drift away. Maybe that's what I've wanted to do all along... Drift away from everything. Make it all go away so I can reclaim some remnant of my own sanity.

So maybe this is exactly what I needed all along. Maybe it's what Batman needed, too...

Guess I thought I'd have to change the world,
to make you see me,
to be the one,
I could run forever,
but how far would I have come,
without mourning your love?

All that I'm living for,
All that I'm dying for,
All that I can't ignore alone at night,
All that I'm wanted for,
Although I wanted more,
Lock the last open door-
My ghosts are gaining on me

should it hurt to love you?
should I feel like I do?
should I lock the last open door?


my ghosts are gaining on me


Last edited by Batman; 01-16-2007 at 11:50 PM.
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Old 01-17-2007, 12:13 AM   #24
Byrd Man
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Default Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II

Quote:
Originally Posted by byrd_man View Post
RING! RING!

The alarm clock goes off and my head feels like it's two sizes too small. I haven't felt like this since I use to wake up hung over in college. Now those were the good ole days, I had my own place in Gotham and studied medicine. I reach over and hit my answering machine.

BOOP

You have 3 new messages, first message.

"Terry? You there? It's Sommer, I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight.....I guess not, call me."

BOOP

Second message.

"Hey, boy. I know your sleeping. I wanted to go over some of last night's footage when you get off work tonight aswell as plan out routes in the Bronx, Queens, Harlem, and Spanish Harlem. You also made the paper, not the front page though. That went to the Batman and him saving the mayor and D.A. of Gotham, but you're on page two. Just call me later, bye."

BOOP

Third message.

"Terry, Dr. Jacobs here at Sacred Heart. I wanted to tell you that we got approval for the surgery, Mr. Stark wants us to operate on that tumor in his head. I'll talk to you when you get in this afternoon. Bye."

BOOP

End of messages

I manage stumble out of bed and put on a T-Shirt. It's 11 A.M. now and I'm not on call until 1, I head to the front door and get my paper, while the Batman did make the front page, I'm a page behind him.

Masked Vigilante Saves Korean Grocery
By Matthew Johnson

In a blur of red and black Sim Yung's Grocery was saved from it's second robbery of this month. The two assalants, indentified as Renaldo Balkman and Sidney Rice both of Brooklyn adresses, were knocked unconscious by what Mrs. Sim Yung descriped as "A man who flew through the window and took them down in less than a minute". Rice was hospitalized for a broken wrist while Balkman suffred a dislocated elbow in the process. Mrs. Yung couldn't identify the man's face although she gave a criptic clue. "He had a T on his face, a big, black T." She also said he told her to call him Mister Terrific. Whoever this masked man was, Mrs. Yung was extemely grateful. "Not only did he save my buisness and money, he also save my life."

I shrug my shoulders as I head on in. It's a start.
By 2 p.m. I'm preping for surgery on Mr.Edward Stark, a 35 year old man with a tumor the size of a marble lodged in his brain. The fellas spunky, I'll give him that. Most people would take Kemo than go through this surgery. It's experimental at best, We open his head open and drill into his brain and laser out his tumor. It's the first time I've done this and I'm a little nervous.

"Terry? You ready? Nurse Tisdale and Doctor Keith will assit you in the surgery, listen to Keith. He's the Neurologist and he'll advise you on what to do."

I nod my head and pull my surgical mask over my face.

"Let's do it."

***************

boop.......boop........boop

Mr. Stark breathes slowly as the monitors keep track of his hear beat. I'm four hours in the surgery and almost at the center of the brain.

"Okay, Doctor Holt. Your almost there, a little more and you'll be in the Mesencephalon where the tumor is."

I gently pull the trigger of the micro drill and fell it dig in a little more.

"Woha, your there."

I look up and the camera planted on the drill and see a hunk of rotten tissue in Mr. Stark's brain.

"Alright. I'm activating the laser."

I press a red button on the drill and a small red laser shoots out the drill tip and starts to cut the edge of the tumor.

"Just a few more neurons and it'll be free of the brain."

The laser cuts through the brain tissue and the tumor breaks free from the brain. I press another button and the laser dissapears, replaced by a pair of tweezers. The tweezer grabs the tumor. I slowly pull the drill out of the opening in the brain and out of the opening in Mr. Stark's skull.

"Congraulations, Dr. Holt. It looks like a sucess."

I smile underneath my mask and let a sigh of relif escape my lips.

__________________
"These are the times that try men's souls... Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph."
-- Thomas Paine


"People never lie so much as after a hunt, during a war or before an election."
-- Otto von Bismarck


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Old 01-17-2007, 03:21 AM   #25
guitarsingerguy
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Location: Hell's Gate
Posts: 10,330
Default Re: The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season II

"I'm at your disposal Mr. Rayner; however, let me give you a suggestion. Your powers will steadily awaken and grow more powerful by the day. In your downtime, get to know the members of the Corps. Make it a point to get close to the ones from your sector. Also, it never hurts to make friends with the big guns. The battery's memory banks are at your beckoned call. That information is never more then a thought away."

"I can't thank you enough Alan."

"It's far too early for that son. By the time your reign has ended, you'll have a lot more people to thank then just me. Now get to work."

Access requested to central battery memory banks.

Retrieving energy pattern...Subject: Kyle Rayner...Position: Ion...Access Granted.

Request: Corps member listing.

Search parameters too broad. Please narrow search by sector numbers.

Request: Sector number search for planet Earth.

Sector #2814.

Request: Corps member listing for sector #2814.

Search in progress...Result #1...Jordan, Harold...Former occupation - Pilot...Race - Human...Result #2...Gardner, Guy...Former occupation - Law enforcement officer...Race - Human...End of results.

Request: Corps trainer with the most adequate field record.

Search in progress...Result #1...Kilowog...Former occupation - Genetic scientist...Race - Bolovax Vikian...End of results.

Request: Corps member location, show results in basic t-coordinates, subject name: Kilowog.

Search in progress...Result #1...Ring #2906311 located at coordinates 23,63...09,41.

Imprint coordinates...Log and record...End session.

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