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

Screen Name: Johnny Blaze

Character you'd like to portray: Malcolm "Mal" Reynolds

Superhuman powers, traits, other attributes of interest: None; Mal is handy with a gun and good in a fight. Being a war vet, Mal is a good leader and is able to think quickly even in dicey situations.

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

Fictional history of the character (as you're going to interpret it): Little is known about Mal's past, other than he grew up on a family ranch in the American West. He spent his days working the land, a modern cowboy until that fateful night that changed it all.

Malcolm was horseback riding around Whedon Creek a few miles from his home when the night sky lit up like the Fourth of July. The alien ship had come from nowhere, and there was nothing Mal could do to stop them from taking him.

Mal found himself frightened and disoriented on the space craft as his abductors forced him into a room with other Earthlings.
His abductors, the Chula, had come to Earth to gather the inferior humans to boost the ranks of their army.

The Chula, along with several other races, were in the middle of a heated and bloody war against the Alliance, a confederation of planets attempting to bring all beings and worlds under one banner. The Chula and their allies valued their independance and did not give in, and thus the Unification War began.

Mal and the others were forced to fight for the Independants. Given nothing more than a simple field pack, a rifle, and a brown coat, the human abductees were quickly drilled against their wills in the ways of war and thrown out into the battlefield.

Many didn't survive, but Malcolm seemed to have a knack for defying the odds. Along the way, he met another Earth abductee named Zoe Alleyne, and the pair quickly became close and trusted friends. Together they were able to survive the horrors that were taking place around them.

Despite their efforts and tenacity, the Independants were losing. As such Mal and Zoe were "enlisted" as two crew members on a ship sent to Earth to collect more soldiers for the war effort. Though he had grown to appreciate the Independant's cause, Mal did not believe the ends justified the means. He would not allow others to be taken and forced into war as he had been.
As the ship was returning to Independant space, Mal saw his opportunity to strike back and took it.

Freeing the recently abducted humans, Mal and Zoe led them against the Chula captors, killing them and taking control of their ship.
The ship's pilot, another abducted human by the name of Hoban Washburne, aided the mutiny by jamming all distress transmissions.

The ship now theirs, Malcolm Reynolds has promised to return everyone to Earth safe and sound. But deep down he knows that it won't stop the Independants from taking more humans to use in their conflict. And the Alliance, if victorious, would eventually make their way to Earth themselves and take control of the entire planet.

After talking it over privately with Zoe, Mal has decided the best course for them is to stay out here, doing what they can to end this war and protect their people from the Alliance threat as best they can.

Malcolm Reynolds, now Captain of the ship dubbed Serenity, travels The Black along with his motley crew in search of adventure, profit, and doing their best to keep both the Independants and the Alliance as far from Earth as possible.

Hero, Villain, or Walking the line?: Hero

List a few reasons why you chose this character: I'm a huge fan of the show, Firefly, and I love the characters. The chance to explore The Black with Firefly's Western/Sci-Fi feel is too tempting to pass up.

How will this character differ from it's original incarnation?: It's a fairly big difference. Mal and the Serenity crew are from the current time, not from a future where Earthlings have journeyed out to the stars, terra-forming planets. Instead, Mal is taken into space against his will and forced to fight for the Independants in the Unification War. After years of bloodshed and battle, Mal led the mutiny against his captors and took control of the ship, Serenity.
Like in the show and comics, Mal is still out for profit (Man's gotta eat), but he's also doing his best to protect his planet and people from getting caught up in the War.

Write two complete sentences explaining what you can bring to this RPG: I can bring experience in RPing. And that's it, so eat **** if you don't like it. :up:

How many days a week you intend on posting in the RPG: As many as need be, life permitting.

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

"Where'd they come from", Mal asked groggily as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. It was quiet on Serenity's bridge, close to one in the morning by Earth standards. Mal placed his hand on the cold metal jutting up that seperated the pilot and co-pilot seats, halfway leaning against it and nearly knocking off one of the tiny dinosaurs that rested atop it.

"Hey, be careful!"

Mal cast a confused look down on his pilot, Hoban Washburne. The blond man looked more like some out-of-place tourist than a pilot. But Mal knew that beneath Wash's laid back demeanor was one of the best pilots he's ever seen.

"Sorry", Mal replied as he put the toy dino back to it's original spot.
"Never once have I seen a grown man get all squirrely about toys like you do."

"They're not toys, they're collectables", Wash said in an irritated voice.

"As enjoyable as this discussion is, do you think we can get back to the problem at hand? Namely the big spaceship that's bearin' down on us?"

Wash turned back around to the controls, and both he and Mal's eyes gazed out the window and into The Black at the small freighter heading their way.

"Maybe it's just some smugglers or something?"

"Or maybe it's Alliance or Independants", sighed Mal, his eyes never leaving the approaching ship that was getting closer and closer.

"Not every ship out here is Alliance or Indepen-"

A beeping sound cut Wash off, and he turned to a small screen on the side of his chair as a message appeared.

"Crap."

"Crap?"

"Crap. It's an Alliance ship. They're ordering us to power down the engines and prepare to be boarded."

Mal looked out again at the ship, which was much clearer now, and larger, than it had once been. Mal could make out at least three guns on the starboard side of the vessel as it slowly glided towards them, now only a few hundred meters away.

"Crap."

Do you know how to post pictures on the Hype boards?: Yes
 
Keyser Soze said:
From The Pages Of... RPG APPLICATION

Screen Name: Keyser Soze

Character you'd like to portray: Randall Flagg

Superhuman powers, traits, other attributes of interest:
Immortality. Vast magical powers, the limits of which are unknown, but which include:
Necromancy, prophecy, unnatural influence over predatory animal and human behaviour, transfiguration, and the ability to kill with a mere thought

Originally appearing from (which comic, and company?):
The Stand (Novel by Stephen King, comic series from Marvel Comics)

Fictional history of the character (as you're going to interpret it):
Randall Flagg's history is vague at best, even to himself.

Hero, Villain, or Walking the line?:
Villain.

List a few reasons why you chose this character:
The Stand is my all-time favourite book, and Randall Flagg is, in my opinion, one of the great villains of literature. The new comic from Marvel already has me hooked, and created the opening to bring Flagg into this game.

How will this character differ from it's original incarnation?:
In terms of personality, he will be largely the same. I am aware that the character has gone on to appear in other Stephen King works, most notably The Dark Tower, where he learned more of the character's past and true nature. But, for now at least, I will be sticking more to how he is portrayed in The Stand. Of course, a big difference is the circumstances behind Flagg's emergence, as in this world there is no super-virus wiping out most of the Earth's population.

Write two complete sentences explaining what you can bring to this RPG:
A wealth of RPing experience. And spandex, lots of spandex.

How many days a week you intend on posting in the RPG:
However often I'm needed.

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

The dark man strode purposefully along US 51, rundown bootheels clocking against the hot tarmac. He walked at night, following the path of the road, striding right down its middle as if he owned it. And, in truth, he did. He owned the roads. He owned the night. This was his country. In his time of endless walking, he had set foot in every last corner of the United States. From New Orleans to Bedford, from Omaha, Nebraska to Las Vegas, Nevada, from Portland, Maine to Sin City, the dark man knew and loved this nation better than anyone. And so he walked on, walked on, bootheels clocking, never pausing, never slowing, the night alive with possibility.

His sharp-toed cowboy boots were accompanied by faded jeans and a battered denim jacket, the right breast of which was adorned with a yellow smiley-face button. His features were much harder to define. He had long raven hair, yes, that much was clear. But his face was ageless, its features always seeming to be dimmed by shade, even in a well-lit room. Different people perceived it differently. But the one constant, the one that was seared forever into the nightmares of whoever saw it, was his grin.

Teeth shining a brilliant, savage white, and eyes gleaming with dark hilarity, it was the kind of grin that turned hair white, made birds fall stone-dead out of tree branches, and triggered fatally-premature labour pains in young pregnant women . He smiled at someone a certain way, and their insides went bad, and cancerous cells started to slowly multiply, a death sentence that would be carried out several years down the road. He walked into a bar with that burning grin, and petty disputes turned into bloody brawls, and adolescent romances turned into intentions of violent rape. When he stopped by at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, as he was often prone to do when seeking amusement, all would fall silent, as if all hope and life had been sucked out of the room . The group would all instinctively turn to face the new arrival, then just as instinctively turn away. Even the most hardened of individuals could only look at the dark man’s face in fleeting glimpses. The speaker up front would find that his voice had abandoned him, his personal battle suddenly seeming pointless and insubstantial. And as the dark man took his seat in the back, monstrous grin unflinching, all the moisture in the room seemed to burn up and evaporate, and everyone’s mouths all of a sudden felt awfully dry. They could use a drink, no, they needed a drink…

The dark man did not know how long he had been walking the roads. It could very well be that he had always been out there on the roads, always on the outside. But in his time, he had met many people, and he had taken many names. In New York in the 1970s he had been known as Robert Franq, and had been a member of a black militant group, personally involved in the murder of several policemen, crimes someone else went to the chair for. Despite the fact that his skin was in fact very pale, his claim that he was a black man had never been disputed. Twenty years earlier, in Georgia, he had gone by the name of Ramsay Forrest, distant descendant of Nathan Bedford Forrest, and prominent member of the Ku Klux Klan. In those days he’d burned many a colored man and raped many a colored woman, all in the name of white power. To this day, he kept the Kode of the Klan folded up in his pocket right up next to a pamphlet for Blacks for Militant Equality. He found that kinda funny.

In 1962, Remy Fubois drifted into New Orleans, where he encountered a troubled young man by the name of Lee Harvey Oswald, who had been handing out anti-American pamphlets. He still had a couple crumpled in one of his pockets today. 43 years later but not a day older, Remy Fubois returned to New Orleans, one hurricane following in the wake of another, to engage heartily in rioting and looting.

Rudy Fowler made regular visits to the Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, Kansas, where he cheerfully proposed new causes for Fred Phelps and his repugnant little clan to rally against. With a charming smile and a hand on the shoulder, he had gently whispered into Phelps’ ear that America needed to know that God hated ***s, that God hated Jews, that God hated soldiers fighting in Iraq, that God hated America, that God hated pretty much everyone. He had written many speeches for the hate-group over the years, but never spoke them himself, for if he did the microphones would scream with hysterical feedback and the circuits would blow, and television sets across the country would go blank with static. Instead he let various members of the family speak for him, and these speeches were routinely met with outpourings of hate and violent counter-demonstrations. He cared little about their message – and he was sure the so-called “Church” couldn’t care less about the God whose opinions they spoke for – but it never ceased to fascinate him, the way they wore their bottomless hatred on their faces like a harelip, and spread their hate like a virus into the children they indoctrinated, and even into the normal, decent folk whose buttons they pushed. Virulent hate, round and round in circles, and the dark man dined on it like fine cuisine.

Yes, his rundown bootheels had walked him through many places, from the corridors of power to the scummiest of back-alleys, but he never stayed in the one place along. He appeared in a place suddenly, and held the absolute attention of all he made contact with while, and just as suddenly he was gone, and no one could quite remember who he was, where he had came from, or just how he had managed to burrow his way into their lives. All that remained were vague memories of a Walkin’ Dude, and of course, the destruction and agony he left behind. That was the one thing that followed, wherever he went. He had a skill for seeking out conflict, big and small, picking at that thread, and making it into something catastrophic, resulting in widespread chaos or – just as satisfying to him – the utter destruction of one individual. Everywhere he went, everyone he encountered, was worse off after the dark man than before him. He was a clot looking for a place to happen, a splinter of bone hunting a soft organ to puncture, a lonely lunatic cell looking for a mate – they would set up housekeeping and raise themselves a cozy little malignant tumor.

He was the dark man, the ageless stranger, the Walkin’ Dude. And for now, his name was Randall Flagg. And, now as always, he was walking, walking purposefully, walking towards his latest destination. And this… this was a big one. Because somewhere out there, a clock was ticking. It kept a time nobody could comprehend but him. Even from here, he could hear its tick-tick-ticking in the back of his head, to the point where he was walking in time to it, to this ticking clock counting down to midnight. That’s where he was walking to now. The ticking clock was calling him, calling him to the epicentre of the coming darkness. Nobody knew what would happen when this clock that kept its own seemingly irregular time finally reached midnight. Except Flagg. Randall Flagg knew exactly what would happen when that tick-tick-ticking clock struck midnight.

“Doomsday.”


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

the-stand-captain-trips-20080909000645004.jpg
Click to expand...


*Projectile vomits all over everyone*
 
Damn, this RPG is shaping up to be...unique, to say the least.
 
Sweet. Hopefully, with Firefly being accepted, there will be some apps up for Wash, Zoe, Jayne, and the rest of the gang. :up:


C'mon, people. Don't make me travel the 'verse by my lonesome! :cmad: :o :csad:
 
What made me laugh by that scene, is that he thought he was being shortchanged.
 
So, we working with a one-character per person limit? I didn't notice anything in the first post that mentioned this, so I want to make sure.
 
Johnny Blaze said:
So, we working with a one-character per person limit? I didn't notice anything in the first post that mentioned this, so I want to make sure.
Click to expand...

For the first week. Seconds will be allowed then.
 
"God's busy anyway. He and I are playing Risk with real armies. I'm two rolls away from nabbing China.

"You should see it when we get drunk and play 'Operation.'"
 
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