"From The Pages Of..." Comics Universe RPG: Season I Signup/OOC Thread

[Batman]

Screen Name: Superferret

Character you'd like to portray: Hellboy

Superhuman powers, traits, other attributes of interest: Superhuman strength, stamina, and durability, Healing factor, Extended lifespan, Ability to easily comprehend and interpret ancient magical languages, Knowledge and experience of fighting the supernatural, Invulnerable Right Hand of Doom is the key to the end of the world. (from Wikipedia)

Originally appearing from (which comic, and company?): Hellboy, from Dark Horse

Fictional history of the character (as you're going to interpret it): Same as it was, summoned by Nazis in WWII, found by Americans, spent the 20th Century as a paranormal investigator for the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense, only he never quit and is still with the Bureau.

Hero, Villain, or Walking the line?: Hero

List a few reasons why you chose this character: Wanted to play him for a while, big fan of the character in all mediums, he’ll have a fun viewpoint of this new world.

How will this character differ from it's original incarnation?: Very slightly, and only after the game starts.

Write two complete sentences explaining what you can bring to this RPG: Hellboy and the BPRD can bring a new layer to the game and explore the basis of the way the world intertwines. Plus, brownies, the good kind.

How many days a week you intend on posting in the RPG: I’ll try for six or seven, depending on availability and the story itself.

Please provide a small sample post as your character, at least three paragraphs and one line of dialogue in length:

I look up at the grey clouds in the sky and run that poem through my head again.

"'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe."

I’ve had to memorize that damned poem, and I must’ve gone over it in my head about a dozen and a third times, just to try and figure it out. The Jabberwock, I can’t believe it. I mean, I’ve faced down the cream of the mythological crop in my day, but this damn thing isn’t even supposed to exist, and here I am, in the middle of the English countryside, looking for a monster from a poem.

Gotta admit though, that movie Gilliam made was funny as hell.

“So, what do you think of all this crap, Kate?” I say, barely turning towards her while I speak, “Is there any solid evidence that this thing is what killed those farmers, or is it as much nonsense as I think it is?”

Kate looks up from her laptop, “Not as of yet, but you know these things take time. You’re just impatient because you know start your vacation once we’re debriefed on this mission by the Bureau.” I grunt in agreement, tapping my hoof on the ground impatiently. “Wait..” Kate starts, sudden realization in her voice. Oh crap.

“You’re going to see Anastacia, aren’t you?” I slump my shoulders and mutter a quick response that she doesn’t quite here. “What was that?”

“It’s her birthday next week.” I repeat, louder, “And, as it stands now, if we find the punks that’re pulling this damn hoax today, we’ll go and get debriefed tomorrow, and that leaves me with only four days to fly to New York to pick her up a gift and then to go and meet her down in India for her birthday.”

“India?”

“Yeah, she’s researching a newly found ancient temple thing or some crap like that. Doesn’t matter to me, so long as I don’t run into any werewolves.”

“Please, no mention of the “w” word. I still have nightmares.” She says, shoving her nose back into her laptop. Jeez, I always forget that lycanthropes are a touchy subject with her.

Suddenly, I hear it, the “jabberwock”. Sounds like someone trying to gargle through a trumpet.

“Sounds like someone trying to gargle through a trumpet.”

“Yeah.” Kate says, but I’m already hoofing it, no pun intended, towards the source of the noise, and I nearly fall over laughing when I get sight of the damned thing. I was right, this is complete ridiculousness, a hoax. The thing I spot looks like the northern English farmboy’s version of one of those dragons from a Chinese New Years parade, and a cheaply made one at that.

But, these bozos did commit at least three horrible murders, and despite their normalness compared to what I was called in to take out, I’m the only lawman in the area and I can get out my frustrations by scaring the crap outta these kids.

Slipping off my trenchcoat and tossing my gun down to the ground with it, I charge the “jabberwock” boys, screaming at the top of my lungs. That should scare these punks good, or at least enough to let me arrest them without trouble.

It doesn’t work. Sonofa*****.

“HEY!” I yell as they walk by me, “Where do you think you’re going? School’s in session boys!” I grab onto the shoddy cloth “skin” of the “beast” and yank it off.

“Oh crap.” There’s no psycho farm kids, no loser drunk frat boys, nothing I expected, ‘cause I sure as hell didn’t expect something that looks like a giant skinless caterpillar with batwings. It rears up and lets out that gargle trumper noise again. I hear Kate gasp on the hill behind me.


I really should’ve kept my gun with me.

Do you know how to post pictures on the Hype boards?: Yes.

OK by me.

 

[Jono Starsmore]

App. approval....anyone?

 

[Saved]

Spike, Carnage27, Jono, and Spike are approved by me.

EDIT Superferret as well.

 

[Batman]

Well, it's nice that Spike's approved twice by you.

 

[SuperFerret]

Question to you Watchmen folks: Is the Comedian still alive, did the books events happen already (in a somewhat altered fashion), or will it occur in game?

 

[Matt Murdock]

Jono, Spike, and Syn's apps are OK by me.

Those three, along with Carnage27's app and my app will still need secondary approval.

Everything seems in order as far as I am concerned.

 

[Saved]

Well, it's nice that Spike's approved twice by you.

...

 

[Jono Starsmore]

Oh. I was already approved. Nevermind....

*Backs into the shadows* o_o

 

[Eddie Brock]

Everything seems in order as far as I am concerned.

Holy Buzz Lightyear, Batman!

 

[Matt Murdock]

Holy Buzz Lightyear, Batman!

You are a sad, strange little man, and you have my pity.

Farewell.

 

[Batman]

Question to you Watchmen folks: Is the Comedian still alive, did the books events happen already (in a somewhat altered fashion), or will it occur in game?

For now, he's alive, as far as I'm concerned. And no, the books events haven't happened, beyond any relevance to the past.

 

[Saved]

I hope Venom does pick up Sylar. Dr. Manhattan has a history with watches too.

 

[Eddie Brock]

I hope Venom does pick up Sylar. Dr. Manhattan has a history with watches too.

Y'know, I was thinking of that connection last night while watching Heroes.

 

[SuperFerret]

I can't even wear a watch.

 

[Eddie Brock]

ETA on the IC, BBMFIC?

 

[Saved]

ETA on the IC, BBMFIC?

I understood that.

 

[Batman]

ETA on the IC, BBMFIC?

I'd say Thursday.

 

[SuperFerret]

I'd say Thursday.

You smell of poop and whistles.

 

[Saved]

I'll get the air freshener...

 

[Eddie Brock]

I'd say Thursday.

Excellent.

 

[Batman]

You smell of poop and whistles.

But I taste of sweet cinnamon.

 

[SuperFerret]

But I taste of sweet cinnamon.

Goats lie.

 

[Saved]

With MB they lay.

 

[Eddie Brock]

With MB they lay.

The English language can be used for such beautiful means.

 

[Matt Murdock]

From The Pages Of... RPG APPLICATION

Screen Name: Peter Parker

Character you'd like to portray: Henry "Indiana" Jones Jr., PhD

Superhuman powers, traits, other attributes of interest: Henry Jones Jr. himself has no special powers. He is an "average Joe" of sorts, working each day at his job as a university professor. Jones imparts knowledge unto members of a younger generation, explaining his findings and describing the digs that he has orchestrated over the years.

This mild-mannered teacher, however, is only a facade. At heart, Jones is a whip-wielding adventurer, willing to travel across continents to protect the treasures and secrets of antiquity.

It's the Indiana Jones we all know and love.

Originally appearing from (which comic, and company?): Indiana Jones as published by the Dark Horse Company

Fictional history of the character (as you're going to interpret it):

Born in the early 1950's, this incarnation of Indiana Jones exists in a period roughly 40 years later than the version that has appeared on the silver screen. His first three adventures, the recovery of the Shiva Lingam stones, the unearthing of the Well of the Souls, and his journey with his father to the Canyon of the Crescent Moon, respectively, will be considered canon. Unlike the stories told in the film, however, the group searching for the relics in the latter two adventures will be a group of Nazi sympathizers, who handily avoided the infamous Nuremberg Trials by fleeing to the Middle East. There, they enlisted the help of various natives, foreign archaeologists, and other nationals in the hopes of using religion and fear to ensure the revival of the Nazi regime. Utilizing the overbearing fear of Communism to their advantage, the Nazi sympathizers were able to easily get hold of left over tools from the Nazi War Machine and transport them to their digsites.x

Raised by a strict Catholic father, Henry Jones Sr., Indiana was instilled with both a humble respect for his superiors, and a rebellious streak. His youthful antics, however, did not deter him from his studies. Compelled by his father's obsession with religious artifacts and study, Jones began studying antiquities and artifacts as a pass time, seeking a job at museum that worked in partnership with his father, Jones learned several languages, from dozens of geographic regions across the globe, including French, Spanish, German, and various dead languages such as Sumerian, Latin, and Greek.

After going to a catholic high school during the beginning of the tumultuous war in Vietnam, Jones was drafted to the service in 1968, at the height of troop delpoyments in the war. He was drafted and sent to fight, giving the young man the hand-to-hand combat experience that would, later, be invaluble as he found himself deeper and deeper in trouble.

After returning from the war effort, Jones was offered honorary admission into the University his father worked at, Marshall University. Soon after receiving his PhD in Archaeology with a double major in Ancient History and a minor in Classics, Jones began exploring the world full-time, working with a colleague he met through his father: Marcus Brody, owner and curator of the National Museum in Bedford, Connecticut.

After finding hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of rare artifacts for Brody and his museum, Jones was offered a part-time teaching position (asked only to teach when he wasn't on-assignment for the museum itself). His teaching has grown to be more of a hobby than a career, for as soon as his paycheck is in, Doctor Jones dons his fedora and begins another hunt for a priceless artifact.

Hero, Villain, or Walking the line?: Hero

List a few reasons why you chose this character: "Mr. Byrd, we see there is nothing you can possess which I cannot take away."

I gave the character to Byrd Man when the Pulps game was just starting. He never expressed interest in taking the character again, so, here I am, writing an app.

How will this character differ from it's original incarnation?: Not in many ways at all, actually. We've seen Jones travel the globe in the 1930's and 40's. Now, however, he'll trek across nations modernly. Airline food will have grown lesser in quality, and his old Ford may be replaced with a newer model, but, let's face it, fedoras never go out of style.

Write two complete sentences explaining what you can bring to this RPG: "Well, the staff is just a stick. I don't know, about this big. Nobody really knows for sure how high. And it's... it's, uh... it's capped with an elaborate headpiece in the shape of the sun with a crystal in the center. And what you did was, you take the staff to a special room in Tanis, a map room with a miniature of the city all laid out on the floor. And if you put the staff in a certain place at a certain time of day, the sun shone through here and made beam that came down on the floor here... and gave you the exact location of the Well of the Souls."

On a more serious note, however, I can bring an experienced RPG-er, a good writer, and an avid fan of Indiana Jones.

How many days a week you intend on posting in the RPG:

Please provide a small sample post as your character, at least three paragraphs and one line of dialogue in length:

Henry Jones Jr. stood in his office, his hat pressed softly atop his head. Shelves full of relics, artifacts, and maps lined the small room, no bigger than a child's bedroom, each with a story to tell.

Jones ran his hands along his belt, staring out of the window onto the green lawn of the University. His round glasses sat on the bridge of his nose.

"Mr. Veidt." He said, gesturing to the dozens of collectibles around the small room. "I appologize for the state of my office."

In the small room, there was a sole chair for visitors, currently occupied by a man in an exquisetly tailored suit. The man's elbows rested on the chair's arms, and he held his hands in front of his face. His gaze was straight ahead, at the back wall of the office.

"No apologies are necessary, Mr. Jones." Adrian Veidt said, his Italian garmets making Jones' tweed suit look utterly cheap. "I understand a man's passion when I see it."

"Had Mr. Brody informed me that my 11 O'Clock would be the, uh... 'Smartest Man on the Globe,' I would have tidied up."

At this, Veidt shifted his gaze.

"On the Planet, Doctor. Smartest Man on the Planet." He corrected.

"Forgive me." Jones noted curtly, his eyeline lingerging on one of the top shelves in his office, where his whip lay dusty and unused since his journey to the Canyon of the Crescent Moon.

"I come to you today with something of a request." Veidt said, removing an envelope from his jacket. "You've seen each continent in detail, yet you have not investigated one of the most popular archaeological destinations in the world."

Jones leaned backwards against the window.

"Egypt."

The issue had grown more and more important when Jones was being interviewed by the media on the returns from his digs. Nothing worthy of the international spotlight, to be sure. Newsletters, government officials, and reporters alike all wanted to know why Jones hadn't travelled to Egypt yet.

"Egypt is a husk of its former glory. All the secrets it has to reveal have been either found by legitimate digs..." Jones paused and dipped his hand into his pocket. "Or stolen by grave robbers."

"All except for one, Doctor Jones." Veidt muttered, making his way to a bookshelf on one of Jones' walls. One of the books, covered in dust, bore Egyptian symbols on the cover.

Veidt scanned the pages and cracked the text open slowly.

Jones made his way to the table and glanced downwards.

For a moment, he couldn't believe what he saw. Legends were told of the image on the page, but none of them were believed to be true. The item in question was one of the last relics left in Egypt, one of the last things left to be uncovered in the forgotten pages of History.

Belloq would be jealous... if he was still alive.

"Forget it." Jones said, removing his glasses slowly.

"Surely you have heard the legends?" Veidt asked anxiously.

"Legends?" Jones asked, his tone bordering on a snarl. He glanced down at the old book once more, the old pages starting to fade. The selected passage, marked "Ankhesenamen," was brief, explaining the tales told of the Egyptian Queen that had been passed down through the oral tradition. "Legend says that Queen Ankhesenamen, the only wife of Tutankahmun, was heart broken after the death of her husband. Her woe and grief were so great that she sent a letter to a Hitite colony, begging for another man to take her hand in marriage. The Egyptians under her charge, so enraged by her eagerness to accept an inferior foreigner as a mate, killed her in the middle of the night. So skilled were the men who took her life that they were able to remove her heart as it beat inside of her chest."

Veidt sat down as Jones stole his proverbial thunder.

"They entombed her in a coffin made of solid sandstone, the same material used to construct the pyramids themselves. The story goes that they stopped the flow of the Nile for days, just to bury her in the sand beneath the currents of the water."

Jones' new client nodded slowly.

"What's your interest with her?"

"Legends in my own family, I suppose." Veidt muttered. "My ancestory traces back to the greatest kings of Egypt. The land's mysteries are my own."

Jones nodded.

"I haven't been out in years, Mr. Veidt. Not since my trip to the Temple of the Sun."

"Consider it a favor, Doctor Jones."

"A favor?" Asked Jones.

"Think of what you could do if the 'Smartest Man on the Planet' owed you one."

Do you know how to post pictures on the Hype boards?: