Blacklight
Revamped and Renegade.
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Comin' right up, man.
t:
One Universe RPG: Season III OOC Thread
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Eddie Brock
Golden Domer
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Whose leg do you have to hump to get approved 'round here?
Byrd Man
El Hombre Pájaro
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wiegeabo
Omniposcient
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As the one playing Logan, I'd be interested in hearing a little more about your plans with X-23. There hasn't really been time to have Logan delve into the mystery of his past. So it might be too early to introduce X-23. We don't even have an official X-Men team yet.
Or, since the season should be ending soon, it might be a good for Logan to start digging, leading to meeting with Laura next season. Or whatever. I'd just like to know a bit more before approving.
Eddie Brock
Golden Domer
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The Season's ending soon?
Keyser Soze
AW YEEEAH!
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"One Universe" RPG SEASON III SIGN-UP FORM
Screen Name: Keyser Soze
Character you would like to play: Thor
Powers:
As an Asgardian, Thor is granted with the powers inherent in his race. He has superhuman strength, and is considered the most powerful even amongst the Asgardians. He is highly resistant to injury, immune to all diseases, and ages so slowly that by human standards he would be considered immortal. But Thors inherent powers are enhanced greatly by his magic hammer, Mjilnor. Armed with Mjilnor, Thor has power over the storms of the sky, able to create, control and direct thunder and lightning. With his hammer, he is also granted the powers of flight and teleportation. In battle, Mjilnor can be used as a deadly projectile it can penetrate almost any barrier, and always returns to Thors hand or it can emit devastating blasts of energy.
Brief biography of the character's history:
The Asgardians are an ancient race of highly-powered cosmic beings, who many centuries ago discovered the mortal realm of Earth, which they named Midgard. Odin, king of Asgard, saw it as Asgards duty to protect and preserve Midgard and its denizens, and so they became involved in mortal affairs. For a time, they were worshipped by some on Earth as Gods. Most highly regarded was Thor, son of Odin, and the greatest warrior in all of Asgard.
But time passed, the word changed, and the Asgardians withdrew once more to their own realm. After centuries isolated from Midgard, Thor grew arrogant and conceited. In order to restore his sons sense of heroism, Odin sent Thor to Midgard, where he would live in the mortal guise of Dr. Donald Blake, and learn humanity from the mortals around him.
As Donald Blake, Thor has learned just that. He knows what it is to love, to heal and due to Blakes lame leg he knows for the first time what it is to be weak. To be human. As Thor, it has become his mission to serve and protect the mortals of Midgard, to be a hero in a world in dire need of them.
List a few reasons why you have chosen that character:
Ive recently got into the world of Thor, through JMS excellent current run on the title. Having tried my hand at playing Loki, and finding myself greatly enjoying it, I thought Id like to give Thor a shot too. I really enjoyed bkhedrs work with Thor earlier this season, it was partly what encouraged me to give the Thor comics a shot in the first place. But on departing the game, he did leave Thor in dire straits, so someone needs to tell the story about how he gets out of that situation, and how he goes from working alone to integrating into the universe of the game. After so long doing self-contained stuff with Harvey Dent in 1U, Id love to play a heavy-hitter who gets to interact with others.
What can you bring to this game?:
Another member for the League, I hope!
Color and font you plan on using for your character's speech:
Bold Antiqua font, Dark Slate Gray color, size 3
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG:
Depends on whats going on. If theres something to respond to, I will try to do so quickly.
Please provide a sample post with original content in the style that you plan to write your character in (must be at least 5 paragraphs long and contain at least 3 line of dialogue):
Its a beautiful, sunny day in New York City. The clear skies and welcoming warmth something of a rarity at this time of year have drawn the people of Manhattan out of their apartments and their offices. The streets of Fifth Avenue and Broadway are filled with shoppers and diners, and families flock to Central Park. It is a city buzzing with life, a hub of activity and a beacon of humanity. For many, this makes New York a prime target.
The bright sun was obscured by some passing cloud. In Central Park, some couples lying out on the grass together let out a sigh of disappointment, the sudden chill detracting from a romantic moment. But few were worried, as they assumed the cloud would soon move on, and the sun would return.
There is an ancient, incredibly powerful being named Seth. Amongst cultures long since vanished from our world, he was known as the Serpent God of Death. But though his presence has diminished in the millennia that have past, his power and his malicious intent have not. Seth is a being obsessed with bringing order to what he deems the chaos of life, an order that can only be achieved through dominion and death. His obsession with order brought Seth into conflict with Odin, King of Asgard, in a battle that resulted in the loss of Seths hand. This is a defeat Seth has never forgotten, one he has spent centuries upon centuries plotting revenge for. Revenge he has now come close to finally achieving, striking at Odin through his favorite son.
In Times Square, busy, rushing pedestrians are now stopping, and looking up at the sky. Those clouds have not moved on. Instead, the clouds have gathered into a thick, grey mass, looming ominously overhead, and turning what was a bright afternoon mere minutes before into a dark, heavy gloom.
Looks like a storms comin, one elderly man says to no one in particular.
With his son in his clutches, Seth expected Odin to descend from his throne in Asgard, and engage him in battle on Earth once more. But Odin did nothing. Seth could have done what he originally intended sever the sons hand as his own hand had been severed, and then kill him. But he realized there were more enduring ways to hurt Odin. And so with the poison of his enchanted sickle, Seth took control of the mind of Odins weakened son. And now the one Odin loves most will be used as a weapon against those Odin has sworn to protect. If Odin would not intervene to save his son, would he intervene to stop him?
Many across Manhattan let out a gasp of surprise as a crack of lightning lights up the darkened sky, not in the distance, but circuiting across right over their heads. Then the thunder comes, rumbling low, then building up in a steady crescendo to a deafening boom. Now people begin to be frightened. This is most unusual to them, most unnatural. It had been a bright, sunny day in New York City. Now they were in the eye of a storm.
The rain begins to pour in torrents, hitting hard and heavy, accompanied by stinging winds. Then, just as the hordes of New Yorkers begin their frenzied rush back to the shelter of the indoors, the clouds part, and a figure descends. Many onlookers would describe the figure as a hulking man close to 7 feet in height, but this is no man. They would also remark that he is dressed like a Viking, when the more accurate assessment would be that the Vikings dressed like him. Clad in chainmail armor and a regal winged helmet, he looks like a warrior prepared for battle, or perhaps even a massacre.
His red cape billows in the wind, but that aside the warrior seems untouched by the storm around him. And it is very much around him, the rain seeming to swirl in circles around his descending form, and crackles of lightning fizzing from the short-handled metal hammer gripped in his hand. This hammer is called Mjolnir, and it is a weapon more devastating than any known to man.
It might as well be night. The skies above are black, and the sunny afternoon is already a distant memory. Despite the rain beating them down, some onlookers remain outside, staring stupidly at the storm bringer as he hovers mere feet above the ground. Some film the event with their camera phones. The warrior looks around, expression blank and eyes dead, assessing his surroundings. He has landed in Times Square. He points Mjolnir upward, in the direction of one of the massive video screens overhead. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning shoots down out of the sky, and connects squarely with the screen, which explodes in a shower of falling glass and metal.
Now the screaming begins. Now people begin to run, blinded as much by panic as the rain whipping into their eyes. Drawing his trunk-like arm back, the warrior grips onto the strap at the end of Mjolnir, and swings the hammer, faster and faster. Then he throws it at a building, one of the many large, multi-floor megastores in this area. The stone wall is pulverized, and as the hammer returns to his hand, more debris plummets into the street below.
This is Seths weapon. This is the son of Odin.
This is the mighty Thor.
Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards?:
Screen Name: Keyser Soze
Character you would like to play: Thor
Powers:
As an Asgardian, Thor is granted with the powers inherent in his race. He has superhuman strength, and is considered the most powerful even amongst the Asgardians. He is highly resistant to injury, immune to all diseases, and ages so slowly that by human standards he would be considered immortal. But Thors inherent powers are enhanced greatly by his magic hammer, Mjilnor. Armed with Mjilnor, Thor has power over the storms of the sky, able to create, control and direct thunder and lightning. With his hammer, he is also granted the powers of flight and teleportation. In battle, Mjilnor can be used as a deadly projectile it can penetrate almost any barrier, and always returns to Thors hand or it can emit devastating blasts of energy.
Brief biography of the character's history:
The Asgardians are an ancient race of highly-powered cosmic beings, who many centuries ago discovered the mortal realm of Earth, which they named Midgard. Odin, king of Asgard, saw it as Asgards duty to protect and preserve Midgard and its denizens, and so they became involved in mortal affairs. For a time, they were worshipped by some on Earth as Gods. Most highly regarded was Thor, son of Odin, and the greatest warrior in all of Asgard.
But time passed, the word changed, and the Asgardians withdrew once more to their own realm. After centuries isolated from Midgard, Thor grew arrogant and conceited. In order to restore his sons sense of heroism, Odin sent Thor to Midgard, where he would live in the mortal guise of Dr. Donald Blake, and learn humanity from the mortals around him.
As Donald Blake, Thor has learned just that. He knows what it is to love, to heal and due to Blakes lame leg he knows for the first time what it is to be weak. To be human. As Thor, it has become his mission to serve and protect the mortals of Midgard, to be a hero in a world in dire need of them.
List a few reasons why you have chosen that character:
Ive recently got into the world of Thor, through JMS excellent current run on the title. Having tried my hand at playing Loki, and finding myself greatly enjoying it, I thought Id like to give Thor a shot too. I really enjoyed bkhedrs work with Thor earlier this season, it was partly what encouraged me to give the Thor comics a shot in the first place. But on departing the game, he did leave Thor in dire straits, so someone needs to tell the story about how he gets out of that situation, and how he goes from working alone to integrating into the universe of the game. After so long doing self-contained stuff with Harvey Dent in 1U, Id love to play a heavy-hitter who gets to interact with others.
What can you bring to this game?:
Another member for the League, I hope!
Color and font you plan on using for your character's speech:
Bold Antiqua font, Dark Slate Gray color, size 3
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG:
Depends on whats going on. If theres something to respond to, I will try to do so quickly.
Please provide a sample post with original content in the style that you plan to write your character in (must be at least 5 paragraphs long and contain at least 3 line of dialogue):
Its a beautiful, sunny day in New York City. The clear skies and welcoming warmth something of a rarity at this time of year have drawn the people of Manhattan out of their apartments and their offices. The streets of Fifth Avenue and Broadway are filled with shoppers and diners, and families flock to Central Park. It is a city buzzing with life, a hub of activity and a beacon of humanity. For many, this makes New York a prime target.
The bright sun was obscured by some passing cloud. In Central Park, some couples lying out on the grass together let out a sigh of disappointment, the sudden chill detracting from a romantic moment. But few were worried, as they assumed the cloud would soon move on, and the sun would return.
There is an ancient, incredibly powerful being named Seth. Amongst cultures long since vanished from our world, he was known as the Serpent God of Death. But though his presence has diminished in the millennia that have past, his power and his malicious intent have not. Seth is a being obsessed with bringing order to what he deems the chaos of life, an order that can only be achieved through dominion and death. His obsession with order brought Seth into conflict with Odin, King of Asgard, in a battle that resulted in the loss of Seths hand. This is a defeat Seth has never forgotten, one he has spent centuries upon centuries plotting revenge for. Revenge he has now come close to finally achieving, striking at Odin through his favorite son.
In Times Square, busy, rushing pedestrians are now stopping, and looking up at the sky. Those clouds have not moved on. Instead, the clouds have gathered into a thick, grey mass, looming ominously overhead, and turning what was a bright afternoon mere minutes before into a dark, heavy gloom.
Looks like a storms comin, one elderly man says to no one in particular.
With his son in his clutches, Seth expected Odin to descend from his throne in Asgard, and engage him in battle on Earth once more. But Odin did nothing. Seth could have done what he originally intended sever the sons hand as his own hand had been severed, and then kill him. But he realized there were more enduring ways to hurt Odin. And so with the poison of his enchanted sickle, Seth took control of the mind of Odins weakened son. And now the one Odin loves most will be used as a weapon against those Odin has sworn to protect. If Odin would not intervene to save his son, would he intervene to stop him?
Many across Manhattan let out a gasp of surprise as a crack of lightning lights up the darkened sky, not in the distance, but circuiting across right over their heads. Then the thunder comes, rumbling low, then building up in a steady crescendo to a deafening boom. Now people begin to be frightened. This is most unusual to them, most unnatural. It had been a bright, sunny day in New York City. Now they were in the eye of a storm.
The rain begins to pour in torrents, hitting hard and heavy, accompanied by stinging winds. Then, just as the hordes of New Yorkers begin their frenzied rush back to the shelter of the indoors, the clouds part, and a figure descends. Many onlookers would describe the figure as a hulking man close to 7 feet in height, but this is no man. They would also remark that he is dressed like a Viking, when the more accurate assessment would be that the Vikings dressed like him. Clad in chainmail armor and a regal winged helmet, he looks like a warrior prepared for battle, or perhaps even a massacre.
His red cape billows in the wind, but that aside the warrior seems untouched by the storm around him. And it is very much around him, the rain seeming to swirl in circles around his descending form, and crackles of lightning fizzing from the short-handled metal hammer gripped in his hand. This hammer is called Mjolnir, and it is a weapon more devastating than any known to man.
It might as well be night. The skies above are black, and the sunny afternoon is already a distant memory. Despite the rain beating them down, some onlookers remain outside, staring stupidly at the storm bringer as he hovers mere feet above the ground. Some film the event with their camera phones. The warrior looks around, expression blank and eyes dead, assessing his surroundings. He has landed in Times Square. He points Mjolnir upward, in the direction of one of the massive video screens overhead. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning shoots down out of the sky, and connects squarely with the screen, which explodes in a shower of falling glass and metal.
Now the screaming begins. Now people begin to run, blinded as much by panic as the rain whipping into their eyes. Drawing his trunk-like arm back, the warrior grips onto the strap at the end of Mjolnir, and swings the hammer, faster and faster. Then he throws it at a building, one of the many large, multi-floor megastores in this area. The stone wall is pulverized, and as the hammer returns to his hand, more debris plummets into the street below.
This is Seths weapon. This is the son of Odin.
This is the mighty Thor.
Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards?:
wiegeabo
Omniposcient
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Probably in a month or so. I think pretty much everyone is involved with an arc that can be the final of the season.
Optikal
Professor Chaos
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"One Universe" RPG SEASON III SIGN-UP FORM
Screen Name: Optikal
Character you would like to play: Ares - God of War
Powers: As an immortal god, Ares possesses vast strength and endurance. His physical capabilities are superior to those of the majority of Olympian gods. He has virtually inexhaustible stamina, and does not tire appreciably after any exertion.He is stronger than the average Olympian, strength level estimated to being able to lift c. 70 tons.
Like all Olympians, Ares is immortal, possessing a life essence that cannot be ended by any conventional means. He can be wounded in battle, but his godly life force gives him incredible recuperative abilities. He can fully recover from penetration wounds (such as by knife, sword, or bullet) in anywhere from minutes to hours, depending on their severity. Only an injury of such magnitude that it incinerates him or disperses a major portion of his bodily molecules could cause him physical death. Even then, his life essence may still be unharmed, and Zeus may be able to resurrect him. Superhuman strength, stamina, durability, agility, and reflexes. He has also been shown to be injured by weapons of magical nature such as Mjolnir, the hammer of Thor.
Ares is a master of hand to hand combat and of all forms of weaponry. He prefers to use melee combat tools such as swords, axes and knives. However, he is proficient with all modern day weaponry too. He also has some low-level magic abilities such as summoning weapons or sensing if magic is being used.
Brief biography of the character's history:
Ares is the son of Zeus, monarch of the Olympian Gods, and his wife Hera. Ares was worshiped as the god of war in both ancient Greece and ancient Rome. After the rise of Christianity in the Roman Empire, Zeus allowed the worship of the Olympians to die out, and Ares was no longer allowed to act as patron god of warriors. As a result over the ensuing centuries Ares grew increasingly dissatisfied with Zeus' rule. He has tried to conquer Olympus on several occasions sometimes in league with his uncle Pluto, god of the Olympian underworld. His half-brother Hercules has opposed his attempts at conquest almost every time.
List a few reasons why you have chosen that character:
1. He's the mother chuckin' God of War!
2. I'm on a Dark Avengers kick
3. Thor is a *****
What can you bring to this game?: Disco fever.... Disco fever.... Disco fever... YEAH YEAH YEAH!
Color and font you plan on using for your character's speech: Black, Arial Black
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG: Many.
Please provide a sample post with original content in the style that you plan to write your character in (must be at least 5 paragraphs long and contain at least 3 line of dialogue):
Aegean Sea
An armada of ships battled the ferociousness of the storm ahead.
These waters were dangerous enough, rumored to house the legendary Hydra. The storm was a blight from the gods. Curious, it was; For the god, Poseidon, had ordered them to go out and kill the thing in the first place. Why would he complicate things like this?
It was not long, after fighting off the monstrous ocean the moon disappeared behind a thick bank of clouds. It was in that moment that the creature attacked the armada. It was automatically hostile. A large blue scaled head rose out of the black waters and smashed down into the first row of ships. Merely the first third of the serpent had left the water but even that was over thirty feet long. A large mouth filled with hooked curved fangs rended and splintered whole galleys. Each ships crew was either killed instantly or swallowed by the blackness of the ocean as the Hydra destroyed nearly half of the armada in mere moments. This battle would not end well...
Aboard one ship under attack of a mini-hydra, a man climbed the prow and surveyed the battle. The Hydra slid through the water with ease, its serpentine body rising up out of the water as it reached the ship. The man stood, rain lashing across the scene, running into his armour and soaking his skin.
His eyes were dark under a white plumed helm. His prodigious chest armoured with a black steel breastplate, emblazoned with a faded white skull. Two thick steel blades were attached to his back, one straight edged and heavy, the other curved and light as a feather. Hooked to his waist hung a leather sheath housing a long bladed hunting knife. This man was not happy. Raising a mighty battle-axe into the air he bellowed a defiant war cry towards the monster and leapt forth.
The Hydra swung its head from side to side to side, tracing its target. Then lightening fast, it struck. Its blue head surged forward and with a single leap he met the beast in mid-air. The axe slammed down right between the eyes of the monster and using his own momentum the man rolled over the head, dragged the dagger from his sheath and plunged it into the back of the monsters neck.
“RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!”
The beast bellowed its agony as Ares stood atop the monsters head. He dragged the straight blade from his back and began to hack at the top of the monsters head. Blood, scales, bone and flesh smashed away under his mighty blow. The Hydra screamed again and dipped into the water. Ares hung on to the monster, his hands plunging into the gore of the hole he had made as salt water enveloped him. Ares held his breath and tightened his grip. Eventually the beast resurfaced and Ares sucked in a deep lungful of air. Once more he rose to his full height and as the pale moon re-appeared from behind cloud he drove the blade deep into the brain of the monster.
The Hydra roared and blood spurted from its mouth. Ares grasped his war axe in one hand, his sword in the other and as the monster fell back to the seas he ran the length of its body and leapt back aboard his ship.
The dead monster hit the waves and its lifeless body sank into the darkness. The ships crew gave a mighty cheer as the man watched his foe disappear. To the right of the ship three more heads rose from the murk, each one bigger than the last. The crew began to panic but he returned to his position on the prow of the ship and gazed out a the monsters. The crew took up arms, but each of them had seen comrades cast asunder, their corpses still milling in the water around the ship. A mighty fist rose into the air and silenced them.
“Fear not men! They are but soulless sea monsters and you are the presence of a GOD! Tell me who should be the fearful ones?!”
the man turned back to the trio of Hydras advancing upon them.
“COME DEMONS! COME AND FACE YOUR MORTALITY ON THE BLADE OF ARES, GOD OF WAR!”
Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards?:
Last edited:
Keyser Soze
AW YEEEAH!
- Joined
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Since you called Thor a *****....DENIED! 
Approved.
Approved.
Watchman
Adios, Cowboy
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"One Universe" RPG SEASON III SIGN-UP FORM
Screen Name: Watchman
Character you would like to play: The Vision
Powers: Flight, energy projection, pyrokenetics, density manipulation, superhuman abilities. Since he is an android his body allows him to things like change his appearance via image inducer and interface with computers.
Brief biography of the character's history: This incarnation of the Vision was created by Dr. Pym using parts from the original Human Torch. At the moment he is working black ops for S.H.I.E.L.D.
List a few reasons why you have chosen that character: After thinking about it for a while I found that the Vision could be a great character to write. It could lead to something along the lines of the ideas explore in Blade Runner and other works of Philip K. Dick combined with superheroes.
What can you bring to this game?: Hopefully a great character and story.
Color and font you plan on using for your character's speech: Fixedsys Green
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG: As much as I want.
Please provide a sample post with original content in the style that you plan to write your character in (must be at least 5 paragraphs long and contain at least 3 line of dialogue):
He has been thinking for about three days straight. He has blocked out anyway possible way for S.H.I.E.L.D and more importantly Waller from tracking him down. He holds up a picture of a man in his hand.
"I have been alive no longer than a month and they ask me to kill this man." The picture goes up in flames in his hands. He crushes it and the flame goes out with ashes falling to the floor.
It was strange. It was strange being thrust into this world and asking to kill. S.H.I.E.L.D would have to wait at the moment. He was not going to be used as a common tool for them. A door opened causing him to crane his head toward the person.
"Jesus, have you been hiding here the entire time? C'mon we have work to do."
"I'm sorry. You're going to have to tell Deputy Director Waller that I to take leave." He turns intangible, "Good Bye." He slips through the floor and disappears.
Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards?:
"One Universe" RPG SEASON III SIGN-UP FORM
Screen Name: Watchman
Character you would like to play: Victor Von Doom, PHD
Powers: A practiced sorcerer, genius level intellect in many different fields of science and magic, an armor suit with many different wonderful toys, and access to advance technology.
Brief biography of the character's history: Doom wasborn in Latveria. Later in life he attended Empire State University along with Reed Richards. One of Doom's experiments goes horribly wrong resulting in Doom's face becoming horrible scarred and him placing the blame on Richards. Doom would travel to Tibet were he would encounter a group of monks. He would later become the master of this group of monks where he forged his armor. He would then led a revolution in his home country crowning himself king.
List a few reasons why you have chosen that character: Doom was left in a very interesting position, bounded to the Source Wall. These leaves a wealth of storylines open, how does escape? How does he get back? What happens if he gets back?
What can you bring to this game?: One of the greatest comic villains ever.
Color and font you plan on using for your character's speech: Georgia Green
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG: Whenever I can post.
Please provide a sample post with original content in the style that you plan to write your character in (must be at least 5 paragraphs long and contain at least 3 line of dialogue):
He once had the powers of a god. He was Victor Von Doom and no prison in the Universe will be able to contain his will. He will find a way from his current entrapment.
"Ah Victor, Victor, Victor. Still think you can escape?" A voice but where was it coming from? "Your arrogance was never ceases to astound me."
"Show yourself, coward!" he could speak again, "show yourself and face Doom!"
"If you insist," two eyes and a smiled appeared in space, like the Cheshire Cat, followed by a body. It was a small man wearing an orange jump suit with a bowler hat. "Names Mxyzptlk, Mr. Mxyzptlk."
"Begone from my sight, creature. Doom does not wish to converse with the likes of you."
"Ah but right now I'm your best friend, Doomy. I'm your ticket out of you this mess."
"You insult me. I do not require assistance from you." Mxyzptlk snaps his fingers and both had disappeared from the source wall.
Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards?:
Screen Name: Watchman
Character you would like to play: The Vision
Powers: Flight, energy projection, pyrokenetics, density manipulation, superhuman abilities. Since he is an android his body allows him to things like change his appearance via image inducer and interface with computers.
Brief biography of the character's history: This incarnation of the Vision was created by Dr. Pym using parts from the original Human Torch. At the moment he is working black ops for S.H.I.E.L.D.
List a few reasons why you have chosen that character: After thinking about it for a while I found that the Vision could be a great character to write. It could lead to something along the lines of the ideas explore in Blade Runner and other works of Philip K. Dick combined with superheroes.
What can you bring to this game?: Hopefully a great character and story.
Color and font you plan on using for your character's speech: Fixedsys Green
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG: As much as I want.
Please provide a sample post with original content in the style that you plan to write your character in (must be at least 5 paragraphs long and contain at least 3 line of dialogue):
He has been thinking for about three days straight. He has blocked out anyway possible way for S.H.I.E.L.D and more importantly Waller from tracking him down. He holds up a picture of a man in his hand.
"I have been alive no longer than a month and they ask me to kill this man." The picture goes up in flames in his hands. He crushes it and the flame goes out with ashes falling to the floor.
It was strange. It was strange being thrust into this world and asking to kill. S.H.I.E.L.D would have to wait at the moment. He was not going to be used as a common tool for them. A door opened causing him to crane his head toward the person.
"Jesus, have you been hiding here the entire time? C'mon we have work to do."
"I'm sorry. You're going to have to tell Deputy Director Waller that I to take leave." He turns intangible, "Good Bye." He slips through the floor and disappears.
Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards?:
"One Universe" RPG SEASON III SIGN-UP FORM
Screen Name: Watchman
Character you would like to play: Victor Von Doom, PHD
Powers: A practiced sorcerer, genius level intellect in many different fields of science and magic, an armor suit with many different wonderful toys, and access to advance technology.
Brief biography of the character's history: Doom wasborn in Latveria. Later in life he attended Empire State University along with Reed Richards. One of Doom's experiments goes horribly wrong resulting in Doom's face becoming horrible scarred and him placing the blame on Richards. Doom would travel to Tibet were he would encounter a group of monks. He would later become the master of this group of monks where he forged his armor. He would then led a revolution in his home country crowning himself king.
List a few reasons why you have chosen that character: Doom was left in a very interesting position, bounded to the Source Wall. These leaves a wealth of storylines open, how does escape? How does he get back? What happens if he gets back?
What can you bring to this game?: One of the greatest comic villains ever.
Color and font you plan on using for your character's speech: Georgia Green
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG: Whenever I can post.
Please provide a sample post with original content in the style that you plan to write your character in (must be at least 5 paragraphs long and contain at least 3 line of dialogue):
He once had the powers of a god. He was Victor Von Doom and no prison in the Universe will be able to contain his will. He will find a way from his current entrapment.
"Ah Victor, Victor, Victor. Still think you can escape?" A voice but where was it coming from? "Your arrogance was never ceases to astound me."
"Show yourself, coward!" he could speak again, "show yourself and face Doom!"
"If you insist," two eyes and a smiled appeared in space, like the Cheshire Cat, followed by a body. It was a small man wearing an orange jump suit with a bowler hat. "Names Mxyzptlk, Mr. Mxyzptlk."
"Begone from my sight, creature. Doom does not wish to converse with the likes of you."
"Ah but right now I'm your best friend, Doomy. I'm your ticket out of you this mess."
"You insult me. I do not require assistance from you." Mxyzptlk snaps his fingers and both had disappeared from the source wall.
Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards?:
Keyser Soze
AW YEEEAH!
- Joined
- Mar 9, 2002
- Messages
- 21,405
- Reaction score
- 14
- Points
- 33
Sorry, Byrd, I waited as long as I could...
Screen Name: Keyser Soze
Character you would like to play: The Scarecrow
Powers:
The Scarecrow has no superhuman powers, but employs a toxin of his own design, which he calls "Fear Gas", as a weapon. This Fear Gas is a weaponised hallucinogen that instills terror in those who inhale it, making them their greatest fears appear to come to life before them. Also, The Scarecrow's alter ego, Dr. Jonathan Crane, is one of the leading experts in the field of the psychology of fear, meaning he is a master of mind-games, and enhancing the effects of his Fear Gas.
Brief biography of the character's history:
Once, Jonathan Crane was a brilliant young professor of psychology, with a promising future. But his obsession with fear pushed him over the edge, leading to him endangering a class full of students, and ultimately losing his job at Gotham University. Disgraced and humiliated, Jonathan Crane became The Scarecrow, killing all those responsible for his dismissal.
Gathering a group of henchmen, The Scarecrow embarked on a campaign of terror on Gotham City, but was ultimately defeated by Batman. After being confined in Arkham for a year, Crane was released, becoming the right-hand man of Boss Maroni. But after attacking Harvey Dent and kidnapping his wife, Scarecrow's plans were once again foiled, and he was returned to Arkham.
Recently, Scarecrow escaped. His current whereabouts are unknown...
List a few reasons why you have chosen that character:
I need Scarecrow to get my characters from Point A to Point B, and the extent of this use probably oversteps the boundaries of NPC. I've already stolen Johnny Blaze's GM status. Now I have a taste for thieving from JB. I had fun playing as Scarecrow last season.
What can you bring to this game?:
Genital herpes.
Color and font you plan on using for your character's speech:
Sienna
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG:
I'll only be using him for a handful of posts, then dropping him when his purpose is served.
Please provide a small sample post with original content in the style that you plan to write your character in (must be at least 3 paragraphs long and contain at least 1 line of dialogue):
"How's Gilda?"
I want to rip Crane's throat out, just for mentioning her name. He's restrained, he couldn't stop me...
"What do you want, Crane?"
"I just want to talk, Mr. Dent. After all that unpleasantness between us, we never really got a chance to just sit down and...talk."
Crane flashes a thin, clinical smile at me. Ignoring it, I drag a chair across the room, and sit it down in front of him. I sit down, facing him.
"The only thing you can talk to me about, that I'd be interested to hear, is how Maroni hired you to kidnap my wife and..."
"No, no, no, no, no!" Crane taunted, shaking his head, "Like I've said, Maroni didn't hire me to do anything to you. I did that by myself. And who wants to talk about that old news? It's boring! I'm much more interested in what makes you tick, Mr. Dent. Tell me, what do you fear?"
I stare hard at Crane, and force a smile of my own.
"You can't get under my skin, Crane. You don't have your gas to help you now."
Crane lets out a smug little laugh.
"Mr. Dent! I'm insulted. I am a highly qualified psychologist. I don't need my Fear Gas to see inside your mind. I know what you fear."
I really should just get up and leave now. But I remain seated. I'm telling myself it's because if I let him keep talking, I might lull him into giving up some useful information about Maroni. But part of me is curious about what he has to say.
"And what would that be?"
"Failure."
I raise my eyebrows in bemusement. I was preparing myself for Crane taunting me about Gilda, about her being in a coma because of me. So this answer seems out of left-field.
"Failure?"
"Let me tell you a story, Mr. Dent. My story. I didn't have a happy childhood. I grew up in poverty, living right here in The Narrows. But I had intelligence, a well-developed mind, and I used that to drag myself out of the gutter and become a world-renowned psychologist, specialising in the study of fear. But like most trailblazers in science, my research was treated with a close-minded suspicion by my so-called peers. I lost my job as a University lecturer, and was reduced to working here, at Arkham Asylum. But I took my revenge, reinventing myself as the Scarecrow, and killing the small-minded fools who cost me my job. I planned to spread my campaign of terror through all of Gotham, but my plans were thwarted, and I was sent here, to Arkham."
As he told his story, Crane's smug demeanour seemed to evaporate. He appeared to be reliving his humiliation all over again.
"Can you imagine it, Mr. Dent? The humiliation of being cavity-searched, and medicated, and locked up in a padded room, by the very people I'd worked with, and often worked above? They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Well, while I sat in my cell, I saw my old life, the life I had worked so hard to build for myself, flash before my eyes, and I knew that life was lost to me now, forever. But I got a second chance. I was rehabilitated, and allowed to re-enter society, a free man once more. And Salvatore Maroni charitably offered me a job working in his restaurant, that's the only thing he ever hired me to do."
My heart sinks. Evidently, Crane has his lie well-rehearsed.
"It was a huge step down from psychology. But I had burned those bridges. And after being locked up, you just appreciate freedom. Of course, I screwed it all up, went off the wagon, targeted you just because I...heh... I saw your face on TV. And Batman showed up to take me down, again. And that's it. That's me done. Now, the only way I'm ever going to get out of this madhouse... is in a bodybag."
If Crane thinks he's going to get sympathy from me, he's got another thing coming.
"That's a very sad story, Crane, I'm tearing up inside, really. But what's your point?"
And there it is. That air of arrogance reasserting itself on Crane's face.
"My point is...that the world gave me two chances. Two. How many chances are they going to give you?"
I'm confused by the response.
"Chances?" I scoff, "I've never killed anyone. I've never terrorised innocent people..."
"...But you've made promises you can't keep. You promise to save Gotham, then your wife is kidnapped. You promise to save Gotham, then your wife gets put into a coma. Poor girl can't catch a break, can she? You promise to save Gotham, and innocent civilians get caught in the crossfire and lose their lives when this Rhino character tries to kill you. All this damage, all this pain... yet I don't see you making any difference where it counts. You've not found anything on Maroni. You've not found anything on Falcone. Maybe because there's nothing to find. Or maybe because you're not good enough to find it..."
"I don't need to listen to this."
Crane is a master manipulator. He's trying to push my buttons, but I won't let him. I stand up, and begin to walk towards the door.
"Oh don't leave, Mr. Dent! I have more to tell you! When I lost my job at the university, it hurt, but I could have just made the best of working here in Arkham. I could have just got on with it, that's what normal people do, right? They get on with it. Only, I'm not normal. I'm not wired like normal people, in the head, am I? I'm different..."
I knock on the door, signalling to Larry outside.
"...and so are you."
I stop dead, and turn around once more to face Crane.
"What?"
"You're like me. I can tell, Mr. Dent. I saw it in The Joker's eyes. And I saw it in your eyes, that night when you had the gun pointed at me. You say you haven't killed anyone, but I looked in your eyes, and I knew...you had it in you. And I can still see it in your eyes. I can see it all over, how you walk, how you talk. You've got a hatred in you, Mr. Dent..."
Larry opens the door, but I hold out my hand, telling him to stay back.
"You can fool all those people out there and say it's a hatred for Maroni, or Falcone, or whoever follows them, there's always going to be someone to crusade against. But you can't fool me. Your hatred's older than that, deeper than that. It's who you are. It's what sets us apart from them..."
I cut him off, pointing an accusing finger at him.
"I...am NOTHING...like you!"
Crane merely smiles in return, seeming to relish in my anger, as if it proved his point.
"I'll be seeing you, Mr. Dent."
I storm out of the interview room. As I pace down the darkened hallway, I turn to Larry, who has caught up with me.
"Get me out of here. And get that animal back in his cell where he belongs."
Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards?: Yes sirree...
Screen Name: Keyser Soze
Character you would like to play: The Scarecrow
Powers:
The Scarecrow has no superhuman powers, but employs a toxin of his own design, which he calls "Fear Gas", as a weapon. This Fear Gas is a weaponised hallucinogen that instills terror in those who inhale it, making them their greatest fears appear to come to life before them. Also, The Scarecrow's alter ego, Dr. Jonathan Crane, is one of the leading experts in the field of the psychology of fear, meaning he is a master of mind-games, and enhancing the effects of his Fear Gas.
Brief biography of the character's history:
Once, Jonathan Crane was a brilliant young professor of psychology, with a promising future. But his obsession with fear pushed him over the edge, leading to him endangering a class full of students, and ultimately losing his job at Gotham University. Disgraced and humiliated, Jonathan Crane became The Scarecrow, killing all those responsible for his dismissal.
Gathering a group of henchmen, The Scarecrow embarked on a campaign of terror on Gotham City, but was ultimately defeated by Batman. After being confined in Arkham for a year, Crane was released, becoming the right-hand man of Boss Maroni. But after attacking Harvey Dent and kidnapping his wife, Scarecrow's plans were once again foiled, and he was returned to Arkham.
Recently, Scarecrow escaped. His current whereabouts are unknown...
List a few reasons why you have chosen that character:
I need Scarecrow to get my characters from Point A to Point B, and the extent of this use probably oversteps the boundaries of NPC. I've already stolen Johnny Blaze's GM status. Now I have a taste for thieving from JB. I had fun playing as Scarecrow last season.
What can you bring to this game?:
Genital herpes.
Color and font you plan on using for your character's speech:
Sienna
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG:
I'll only be using him for a handful of posts, then dropping him when his purpose is served.
Please provide a small sample post with original content in the style that you plan to write your character in (must be at least 3 paragraphs long and contain at least 1 line of dialogue):
"How's Gilda?"
I want to rip Crane's throat out, just for mentioning her name. He's restrained, he couldn't stop me...
"What do you want, Crane?"
"I just want to talk, Mr. Dent. After all that unpleasantness between us, we never really got a chance to just sit down and...talk."
Crane flashes a thin, clinical smile at me. Ignoring it, I drag a chair across the room, and sit it down in front of him. I sit down, facing him.
"The only thing you can talk to me about, that I'd be interested to hear, is how Maroni hired you to kidnap my wife and..."
"No, no, no, no, no!" Crane taunted, shaking his head, "Like I've said, Maroni didn't hire me to do anything to you. I did that by myself. And who wants to talk about that old news? It's boring! I'm much more interested in what makes you tick, Mr. Dent. Tell me, what do you fear?"
I stare hard at Crane, and force a smile of my own.
"You can't get under my skin, Crane. You don't have your gas to help you now."
Crane lets out a smug little laugh.
"Mr. Dent! I'm insulted. I am a highly qualified psychologist. I don't need my Fear Gas to see inside your mind. I know what you fear."
I really should just get up and leave now. But I remain seated. I'm telling myself it's because if I let him keep talking, I might lull him into giving up some useful information about Maroni. But part of me is curious about what he has to say.
"And what would that be?"
"Failure."
I raise my eyebrows in bemusement. I was preparing myself for Crane taunting me about Gilda, about her being in a coma because of me. So this answer seems out of left-field.
"Failure?"
"Let me tell you a story, Mr. Dent. My story. I didn't have a happy childhood. I grew up in poverty, living right here in The Narrows. But I had intelligence, a well-developed mind, and I used that to drag myself out of the gutter and become a world-renowned psychologist, specialising in the study of fear. But like most trailblazers in science, my research was treated with a close-minded suspicion by my so-called peers. I lost my job as a University lecturer, and was reduced to working here, at Arkham Asylum. But I took my revenge, reinventing myself as the Scarecrow, and killing the small-minded fools who cost me my job. I planned to spread my campaign of terror through all of Gotham, but my plans were thwarted, and I was sent here, to Arkham."
As he told his story, Crane's smug demeanour seemed to evaporate. He appeared to be reliving his humiliation all over again.
"Can you imagine it, Mr. Dent? The humiliation of being cavity-searched, and medicated, and locked up in a padded room, by the very people I'd worked with, and often worked above? They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Well, while I sat in my cell, I saw my old life, the life I had worked so hard to build for myself, flash before my eyes, and I knew that life was lost to me now, forever. But I got a second chance. I was rehabilitated, and allowed to re-enter society, a free man once more. And Salvatore Maroni charitably offered me a job working in his restaurant, that's the only thing he ever hired me to do."
My heart sinks. Evidently, Crane has his lie well-rehearsed.
"It was a huge step down from psychology. But I had burned those bridges. And after being locked up, you just appreciate freedom. Of course, I screwed it all up, went off the wagon, targeted you just because I...heh... I saw your face on TV. And Batman showed up to take me down, again. And that's it. That's me done. Now, the only way I'm ever going to get out of this madhouse... is in a bodybag."
If Crane thinks he's going to get sympathy from me, he's got another thing coming.
"That's a very sad story, Crane, I'm tearing up inside, really. But what's your point?"
And there it is. That air of arrogance reasserting itself on Crane's face.
"My point is...that the world gave me two chances. Two. How many chances are they going to give you?"
I'm confused by the response.
"Chances?" I scoff, "I've never killed anyone. I've never terrorised innocent people..."
"...But you've made promises you can't keep. You promise to save Gotham, then your wife is kidnapped. You promise to save Gotham, then your wife gets put into a coma. Poor girl can't catch a break, can she? You promise to save Gotham, and innocent civilians get caught in the crossfire and lose their lives when this Rhino character tries to kill you. All this damage, all this pain... yet I don't see you making any difference where it counts. You've not found anything on Maroni. You've not found anything on Falcone. Maybe because there's nothing to find. Or maybe because you're not good enough to find it..."
"I don't need to listen to this."
Crane is a master manipulator. He's trying to push my buttons, but I won't let him. I stand up, and begin to walk towards the door.
"Oh don't leave, Mr. Dent! I have more to tell you! When I lost my job at the university, it hurt, but I could have just made the best of working here in Arkham. I could have just got on with it, that's what normal people do, right? They get on with it. Only, I'm not normal. I'm not wired like normal people, in the head, am I? I'm different..."
I knock on the door, signalling to Larry outside.
"...and so are you."
I stop dead, and turn around once more to face Crane.
"What?"
"You're like me. I can tell, Mr. Dent. I saw it in The Joker's eyes. And I saw it in your eyes, that night when you had the gun pointed at me. You say you haven't killed anyone, but I looked in your eyes, and I knew...you had it in you. And I can still see it in your eyes. I can see it all over, how you walk, how you talk. You've got a hatred in you, Mr. Dent..."
Larry opens the door, but I hold out my hand, telling him to stay back.
"You can fool all those people out there and say it's a hatred for Maroni, or Falcone, or whoever follows them, there's always going to be someone to crusade against. But you can't fool me. Your hatred's older than that, deeper than that. It's who you are. It's what sets us apart from them..."
I cut him off, pointing an accusing finger at him.
"I...am NOTHING...like you!"
Crane merely smiles in return, seeming to relish in my anger, as if it proved his point.
"I'll be seeing you, Mr. Dent."
I storm out of the interview room. As I pace down the darkened hallway, I turn to Larry, who has caught up with me.
"Get me out of here. And get that animal back in his cell where he belongs."
Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards?: Yes sirree...
wiegeabo
Omniposcient
- Joined
- Jul 13, 2002
- Messages
- 37,050
- Reaction score
- 6
- Points
- 33
No posts
More than 30 days without a post
Matt Murdock - Joker - 1/18/09
More than 21 days without a post
Byrd Man - Daredevil - 2/02/09
Byrd Man - Jim Gordon - 2/03/09
Keyser Soze - Harvey Dent - 2/05/09
Gallagher - Johnny Frost - 2/04/09
More than 14 days without a post
trustyside-kick - Hawkman - 2/09/09
Harley_x - Poison Ivy - 2/09/09
More than 10 days without a post
Optikal - Night Thrasher - 2/19/09
Matt Murdock - Spider-Man - 2/17/09
Gallagher - Deadpool - 2/17/09
Removed from roster:
On Chopping Block:
Matt Murdock - Joker - 1/18/09
More than 30 days without a post
Matt Murdock - Joker - 1/18/09
More than 21 days without a post
Byrd Man - Daredevil - 2/02/09
Byrd Man - Jim Gordon - 2/03/09
Keyser Soze - Harvey Dent - 2/05/09
Gallagher - Johnny Frost - 2/04/09
More than 14 days without a post
trustyside-kick - Hawkman - 2/09/09
Harley_x - Poison Ivy - 2/09/09
More than 10 days without a post
Optikal - Night Thrasher - 2/19/09
Matt Murdock - Spider-Man - 2/17/09
Gallagher - Deadpool - 2/17/09
Removed from roster:
On Chopping Block:
Matt Murdock - Joker - 1/18/09
Matt Murdock
Avenger
- Joined
- Jun 29, 2005
- Messages
- 19,072
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
Eff that. Post coming.
Matt Murdock
Avenger
- Joined
- Jun 29, 2005
- Messages
- 19,072
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
I'm going to go ahead and drop Spider-Man in this one. Thanks for the awesome time as the web-slinger, everyone. I had a blast while it lasted.
Byrd Man
El Hombre Pájaro
- Joined
- May 25, 2006
- Messages
- 21,577
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
*waits for carnage to ensue*
Eddie Brock
Golden Domer
- Joined
- Jul 24, 2006
- Messages
- 25,054
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
The 24 Hour Rule is still in effect, right?
Eddie Brock
Golden Domer
- Joined
- Jul 24, 2006
- Messages
- 25,054
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
Well, then, I won't rush an application. Very well.
Eddie Brock
Golden Domer
- Joined
- Jul 24, 2006
- Messages
- 25,054
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
"One Universe" RPG SEASON III SIGN-UP FORM
Screen Name: Eddie Brock (formerly Eddie Brock Jr.)
Character you would like to play: Peter Benjamin Parker/Spider-Man
Powers: Peter's powers correspond with the abilities of a spider. As such, he possesses incredible strength, the ability to stick to and crawl on nearly any surface, a precognitive ability Peter affectionately calls "Spider-Sense," and incredible acrobatic skills.
In addition, Peter is something of a scientific whiz kid. His uncanny intelligence led him to design his web-shooters - small devices he straps to his wrist that fire a web-like fluid he designed. The web is sticky, elastic, and possesses incredible tensile strength. These characteristics, combined with Peter's intelligence and imagination, help Peter come up with creative solutions to many of his problems.
Brief biography of the character's history: Peter Parker led what you could call an unfortunate life. His parents died when Peter was at a very young age. As a result, Peter was raised by his loving Aunt and Uncle, May and Ben Parker. May and Ben treated Peter as if he were their own, and they instilled in him a strong sense of morals and ethics. Peter is who he is because of their care.
It's not that easy, however. Peter was gifted with an almost prodigal intelligence that placed him on a much higher plane than his peers. What should have been a gift quickly became a curse. Peter always had his nose in a book, which translated into a target on his back. His bookworm, wallflower nature made Peter an easy target for bullies like Eugene "Flash" Thompson at school. Life outside the home was miserable for Peter.
One day, Peter's luck seemed to continue. On a routine field trip to a scientific laboratory, Peter was bitten by an experimental spider. He became very sick - giving Flash and his buddies a few laughs in the process. Peter went home and passed out. When he woke the next morning, nothing was the same.
It started with his eyesight. Peter realized he no longer needed glasses. It was strange, to be sure, but Peter thought very little of it. He was more intrigued by the fact that his bite mark had seemingly disappeared. It was as if he healed overnight. But it didn't stop there. In a confrontation with Flash, Peter discovered strength he had never felt before. He actually beat Flash in the fight. Instead of joy, however, he felt terrified. He didn't know what was happening to him.
Over the course of a few days, Peter discovered even more abilities. A buzzing sensation that warned him of impending danger. Acrobatic skills he never possessed before. The ability to stick to walls! As bright as he was, Peter was able to piece the puzzle together quite quickly. That spider, whatever it was, had changed Peter's DNA. It had made him stronger, faster, better!
Well, kids will be kids, and Peter did what any kid would do. He tried to exploit his new skills. Mind you, his intentions were pure. He wanted to earn money to help around the house. Bills were piling up, and though they'd never admit it, Peter knew that Uncle Ben and Aunt May needed help. Peter started wrestling, and he gave his proceeds to Uncle Ben and Aunt May - while keeping a little for himself.
Fate, it seems, had plans for the newly arrogant Peter Parker. The wrestling promoter was robbed at gunpoint. Peter could have done something - anything - to stop the robber. However, he simply didn't care. Why was it his problem? The wrestling promoter promptly fired Peter, which didn't sit too well. Peter went home angry. It didn't stay that way.
At home, Peter discovered that Uncle Ben had been shot and killed. Peter eavesdropped on the police radio and heard where the gunman was hiding. Peter knew what he wanted to do. He wanted revenge. Bloodthirsty and vengeful, Peter set out. To his horror, he soon learned that the gunman was the same robber he could have stopped.
Uncle Ben's timeless words rang out in Peter's head. "With great power comes great responsibility." Under this mantra, Peter promised he would right his wrongs. He would never shun his responsibility again. Taking on his wrestling name, Peter became the amazing Spider-Man.
List a few reasons why you have chosen that character: I love Spider-Man. I love everything about him. The everyman persona, the powerset, the supporting cast. There isn't a thing I don't love. He's a superhero with real world problems. He has to figure out how he's going to pay the rent (in his later years). He has to find time to study when he's not sparring with the Green Goblin or Doctor Octopus. He lies through his teeth to Aunt May and hates himself for it. He has serious self-confidence issues, and he has experienced more loss in his young life than many people deal with in a lifetime. Yet, most amazingly, through it all, he keeps a smile on his face and a quip on his tongue. Who wouldn't want to be like that?
What can you bring to this game?: As I hope this application shows, I am hopelessly passionate for the character of Spider-Man. I feel like I know him well enough that everything I do, I will do faithfully. I will be ashamed if I'm ever called out for doing something out-of-character for Spidey. That's how serious I am. I'm dependable, as I'm sure others can vouch, and I'm seriously trying to improve with every post.
Color and font you plan on using for your character's speech: Blue (for a change) Comic Sans MS for Peter/Blue bold Comic Sans MS for Spider-Man
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG: I don't expect much more than once a day - just because it sometimes feels like overkill. Besides, I don't want to rush through my arcs. I want to take my time and make every post meaningful - rather than taking up space.
Please provide a sample post with original content in the style that you plan to write your character in (must be at least 5 paragraphs long and contain at least 3 line of dialogue):
Mrs. Watson puts an arm around Aunt May, who's still sobbing uncontrollably. It's painful to watch. That's part of the reason I needed to step away. Seeing Aunt May like that, it just tears me apart. I mean, she's such a strong woman. She's been such a fixture in my life, through the good times and the bad. When it looked like the world was going to Hell in a handbasket, Aunt May was calm, cool, and level-headed. I admired her for that. I admired her for many things. Yet this is far beyond her. As strong as she may be, she cannot simply shrug this off. Who could I blame her?
I hover near the entrance to the kitchen, staring painfully at the floor. Cops are moving here and there, blocking my view. Even so, every so often an opening clears up, and I see it. That white chalk. I've seen chalk many times before. On blackboards, on sidewalks, everywhere. It never affected me before. Well, other than the occasional times when it has read, "POP QUIZ!" Still, it's just chalk. This time, however, it's not just chalk. My eyes trace the outline, and I find it hard to swallow as I realize what shape is made.
Uncle Ben.
If Aunt May was a fixture, Uncle Ben was the cornerstone. Even on the occasions when Aunt May went off the handle, Uncle Ben always managed to bring her back down. I don't think I've ever seen a couple more in love than those two. I sometimes feel guilty that I got in the way of their "happily ever after." I'm sure when they planned to settle down, they never planned to have to deal with a moody teenager.
They never complained. Not once. Not to my face, not behind my back. Never. Those two, they loved me more than they loved each other - which, if you knew them, means a lot. It never once felt awkward around them. It never felt out-of-place or forced. As far as anyone was concerned, I was their son. End of story. Don't take me wrong. I would give anything to have my real parents. I've spent many nights asking God why He took them from me. It's hard. It's hard to believe in a benevolent God when he does something like that to you. It's hard to believe there is good in this world.
That is, until I got to know Uncle Ben. He did everything for me. He put off retirement so I would have food, clothing, and shelter. And he was so stoic, so kind-hearted. Here he was, a man in his sixties, waking up at five in the morning to go off to work so he could support a child he never asked for. I hope that if I'm ever a father some day, I can be half the man Uncle Ben was.
Wow. I'm already talking like he's gone. I mean, I guess he is. God, it hurts so much.
Uncle Ben taught me to throw my first baseball. I never got too good at that, unfortunately. He took me for rides in his beloved convertible - back in its glory days. Over the past few years, it's been rusting in the garage. He sat and listened to me as I ran off at the mouth about some newest scientific discovery, and then he pretended to have some clue what I just said. Late some nights, when I was haunted by visions of my parents, he would sit downstairs on the couch with me, telling me stories about my father - his younger brother. I sometimes felt like I knew my father, just based on what Uncle Ben would tell me.
Now, he's gone. And I don't know why.
"Detective," one cop whispers to the other urgently, "We got a lead on the shooter." I perk up and listen, despite my better judgment. "He's holed up in one of those warehouses by the docks." Hey, I know where that is!
The other cop grits his teeth. "Dammit," he grumbles. "Those places are like fortresses. Without backup, he could stay in there long through the night. Did you call for SWAT?" The first cop nods. "Well, start praying, then. I can't stand to lose another one of these scumbags."
I rush upstairs into my bedroom. Closing the door, I sit on the bed, my legs folded in front of me. I bury my head in my knees. And, for the first time in the night, I begin to cry. I can't predict it, and I can't stop it. The tears come quickly and powerfully. Uncle Ben is gone. I repeat the words, hoping that the sick joke will be revealed. Hoping that Ashton Kutcher will burst through my bedroom door and reveal that it was all an illusion. Ashton never comes. Uncle Ben is gone.
Outside the window next to my bed, I hear the closing of car doors. The sound is then accompanied by the wailing of sirens that grows dimmer as the cars pull away. I watch as the cops quickly file out and head for the docks. I think of the conversation between the two policemen in my kitchen.
'Without backup, he could stay in there long through the night.'
I picture the gunman in an empty warehouse, laughing to himself as he polishes his gun. Outside, the police cars have assembled, but they are powerless. They cannot touch him. So the gunman laughs away, reveling in his victory. He waits out the night, and when the police search the building in the morning, he is long gone. Literally getting away with murder. The thought sickens me.
My eyes find my casually discarded backpack in the far corner of the room. A crazy thought crosses my mind. I quickly dispatch with it, but it keeps poking around in the back of my head. Finally motivated, I get up and grab my backpack, bringing it back to my bed. I throw open the zipper and pull out the backpack's contents. I admire the red and blue fabric in the moonlight for a moment.
It's my wrestling costume. I suppose I have no use for it now - what with getting fired and all. Might as well not let it go to waste. I open my bedroom door and check the hallway. All the policemen are gone. I can still hear Aunt May's sobs and Mrs. Watson's reassuring words. I'm in the clear. Closing the door, I remove my clothes and put on the costume in their place. It's gaudy and awful, but I'll be damned if it doesn't make me look good. I pull on my mask and open my window.
Then, another idea hits me. Stepping down from the window, I open my desk drawer. Buried strategically underneath old papers and folders is my newest invention. Unfortunately, I haven't field-tested it yet, but what better time than the present? I snap the small contraptions onto my wrist and pull the fabric of the costume over them. Holding my arm out the window, I apply pressure to the sensor in my palm with my middle and ring fingers. A translucent string spirals out into the night sky.
"Good. They work," I whisper to myself. After all, what's a spider without a web?
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Screen Name: Eddie Brock (formerly Eddie Brock Jr.)
Character you would like to play: Peter Benjamin Parker/Spider-Man
Powers: Peter's powers correspond with the abilities of a spider. As such, he possesses incredible strength, the ability to stick to and crawl on nearly any surface, a precognitive ability Peter affectionately calls "Spider-Sense," and incredible acrobatic skills.
In addition, Peter is something of a scientific whiz kid. His uncanny intelligence led him to design his web-shooters - small devices he straps to his wrist that fire a web-like fluid he designed. The web is sticky, elastic, and possesses incredible tensile strength. These characteristics, combined with Peter's intelligence and imagination, help Peter come up with creative solutions to many of his problems.
Brief biography of the character's history: Peter Parker led what you could call an unfortunate life. His parents died when Peter was at a very young age. As a result, Peter was raised by his loving Aunt and Uncle, May and Ben Parker. May and Ben treated Peter as if he were their own, and they instilled in him a strong sense of morals and ethics. Peter is who he is because of their care.
It's not that easy, however. Peter was gifted with an almost prodigal intelligence that placed him on a much higher plane than his peers. What should have been a gift quickly became a curse. Peter always had his nose in a book, which translated into a target on his back. His bookworm, wallflower nature made Peter an easy target for bullies like Eugene "Flash" Thompson at school. Life outside the home was miserable for Peter.
One day, Peter's luck seemed to continue. On a routine field trip to a scientific laboratory, Peter was bitten by an experimental spider. He became very sick - giving Flash and his buddies a few laughs in the process. Peter went home and passed out. When he woke the next morning, nothing was the same.
It started with his eyesight. Peter realized he no longer needed glasses. It was strange, to be sure, but Peter thought very little of it. He was more intrigued by the fact that his bite mark had seemingly disappeared. It was as if he healed overnight. But it didn't stop there. In a confrontation with Flash, Peter discovered strength he had never felt before. He actually beat Flash in the fight. Instead of joy, however, he felt terrified. He didn't know what was happening to him.
Over the course of a few days, Peter discovered even more abilities. A buzzing sensation that warned him of impending danger. Acrobatic skills he never possessed before. The ability to stick to walls! As bright as he was, Peter was able to piece the puzzle together quite quickly. That spider, whatever it was, had changed Peter's DNA. It had made him stronger, faster, better!
Well, kids will be kids, and Peter did what any kid would do. He tried to exploit his new skills. Mind you, his intentions were pure. He wanted to earn money to help around the house. Bills were piling up, and though they'd never admit it, Peter knew that Uncle Ben and Aunt May needed help. Peter started wrestling, and he gave his proceeds to Uncle Ben and Aunt May - while keeping a little for himself.
Fate, it seems, had plans for the newly arrogant Peter Parker. The wrestling promoter was robbed at gunpoint. Peter could have done something - anything - to stop the robber. However, he simply didn't care. Why was it his problem? The wrestling promoter promptly fired Peter, which didn't sit too well. Peter went home angry. It didn't stay that way.
At home, Peter discovered that Uncle Ben had been shot and killed. Peter eavesdropped on the police radio and heard where the gunman was hiding. Peter knew what he wanted to do. He wanted revenge. Bloodthirsty and vengeful, Peter set out. To his horror, he soon learned that the gunman was the same robber he could have stopped.
Uncle Ben's timeless words rang out in Peter's head. "With great power comes great responsibility." Under this mantra, Peter promised he would right his wrongs. He would never shun his responsibility again. Taking on his wrestling name, Peter became the amazing Spider-Man.
List a few reasons why you have chosen that character: I love Spider-Man. I love everything about him. The everyman persona, the powerset, the supporting cast. There isn't a thing I don't love. He's a superhero with real world problems. He has to figure out how he's going to pay the rent (in his later years). He has to find time to study when he's not sparring with the Green Goblin or Doctor Octopus. He lies through his teeth to Aunt May and hates himself for it. He has serious self-confidence issues, and he has experienced more loss in his young life than many people deal with in a lifetime. Yet, most amazingly, through it all, he keeps a smile on his face and a quip on his tongue. Who wouldn't want to be like that?
What can you bring to this game?: As I hope this application shows, I am hopelessly passionate for the character of Spider-Man. I feel like I know him well enough that everything I do, I will do faithfully. I will be ashamed if I'm ever called out for doing something out-of-character for Spidey. That's how serious I am. I'm dependable, as I'm sure others can vouch, and I'm seriously trying to improve with every post.
Color and font you plan on using for your character's speech: Blue (for a change) Comic Sans MS for Peter/Blue bold Comic Sans MS for Spider-Man
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG: I don't expect much more than once a day - just because it sometimes feels like overkill. Besides, I don't want to rush through my arcs. I want to take my time and make every post meaningful - rather than taking up space.
Please provide a sample post with original content in the style that you plan to write your character in (must be at least 5 paragraphs long and contain at least 3 line of dialogue):
Mrs. Watson puts an arm around Aunt May, who's still sobbing uncontrollably. It's painful to watch. That's part of the reason I needed to step away. Seeing Aunt May like that, it just tears me apart. I mean, she's such a strong woman. She's been such a fixture in my life, through the good times and the bad. When it looked like the world was going to Hell in a handbasket, Aunt May was calm, cool, and level-headed. I admired her for that. I admired her for many things. Yet this is far beyond her. As strong as she may be, she cannot simply shrug this off. Who could I blame her?
I hover near the entrance to the kitchen, staring painfully at the floor. Cops are moving here and there, blocking my view. Even so, every so often an opening clears up, and I see it. That white chalk. I've seen chalk many times before. On blackboards, on sidewalks, everywhere. It never affected me before. Well, other than the occasional times when it has read, "POP QUIZ!" Still, it's just chalk. This time, however, it's not just chalk. My eyes trace the outline, and I find it hard to swallow as I realize what shape is made.
Uncle Ben.
If Aunt May was a fixture, Uncle Ben was the cornerstone. Even on the occasions when Aunt May went off the handle, Uncle Ben always managed to bring her back down. I don't think I've ever seen a couple more in love than those two. I sometimes feel guilty that I got in the way of their "happily ever after." I'm sure when they planned to settle down, they never planned to have to deal with a moody teenager.
They never complained. Not once. Not to my face, not behind my back. Never. Those two, they loved me more than they loved each other - which, if you knew them, means a lot. It never once felt awkward around them. It never felt out-of-place or forced. As far as anyone was concerned, I was their son. End of story. Don't take me wrong. I would give anything to have my real parents. I've spent many nights asking God why He took them from me. It's hard. It's hard to believe in a benevolent God when he does something like that to you. It's hard to believe there is good in this world.
That is, until I got to know Uncle Ben. He did everything for me. He put off retirement so I would have food, clothing, and shelter. And he was so stoic, so kind-hearted. Here he was, a man in his sixties, waking up at five in the morning to go off to work so he could support a child he never asked for. I hope that if I'm ever a father some day, I can be half the man Uncle Ben was.
Wow. I'm already talking like he's gone. I mean, I guess he is. God, it hurts so much.
Uncle Ben taught me to throw my first baseball. I never got too good at that, unfortunately. He took me for rides in his beloved convertible - back in its glory days. Over the past few years, it's been rusting in the garage. He sat and listened to me as I ran off at the mouth about some newest scientific discovery, and then he pretended to have some clue what I just said. Late some nights, when I was haunted by visions of my parents, he would sit downstairs on the couch with me, telling me stories about my father - his younger brother. I sometimes felt like I knew my father, just based on what Uncle Ben would tell me.
Now, he's gone. And I don't know why.
"Detective," one cop whispers to the other urgently, "We got a lead on the shooter." I perk up and listen, despite my better judgment. "He's holed up in one of those warehouses by the docks." Hey, I know where that is!
The other cop grits his teeth. "Dammit," he grumbles. "Those places are like fortresses. Without backup, he could stay in there long through the night. Did you call for SWAT?" The first cop nods. "Well, start praying, then. I can't stand to lose another one of these scumbags."
I rush upstairs into my bedroom. Closing the door, I sit on the bed, my legs folded in front of me. I bury my head in my knees. And, for the first time in the night, I begin to cry. I can't predict it, and I can't stop it. The tears come quickly and powerfully. Uncle Ben is gone. I repeat the words, hoping that the sick joke will be revealed. Hoping that Ashton Kutcher will burst through my bedroom door and reveal that it was all an illusion. Ashton never comes. Uncle Ben is gone.
Outside the window next to my bed, I hear the closing of car doors. The sound is then accompanied by the wailing of sirens that grows dimmer as the cars pull away. I watch as the cops quickly file out and head for the docks. I think of the conversation between the two policemen in my kitchen.
'Without backup, he could stay in there long through the night.'
I picture the gunman in an empty warehouse, laughing to himself as he polishes his gun. Outside, the police cars have assembled, but they are powerless. They cannot touch him. So the gunman laughs away, reveling in his victory. He waits out the night, and when the police search the building in the morning, he is long gone. Literally getting away with murder. The thought sickens me.
My eyes find my casually discarded backpack in the far corner of the room. A crazy thought crosses my mind. I quickly dispatch with it, but it keeps poking around in the back of my head. Finally motivated, I get up and grab my backpack, bringing it back to my bed. I throw open the zipper and pull out the backpack's contents. I admire the red and blue fabric in the moonlight for a moment.
It's my wrestling costume. I suppose I have no use for it now - what with getting fired and all. Might as well not let it go to waste. I open my bedroom door and check the hallway. All the policemen are gone. I can still hear Aunt May's sobs and Mrs. Watson's reassuring words. I'm in the clear. Closing the door, I remove my clothes and put on the costume in their place. It's gaudy and awful, but I'll be damned if it doesn't make me look good. I pull on my mask and open my window.
Then, another idea hits me. Stepping down from the window, I open my desk drawer. Buried strategically underneath old papers and folders is my newest invention. Unfortunately, I haven't field-tested it yet, but what better time than the present? I snap the small contraptions onto my wrist and pull the fabric of the costume over them. Holding my arm out the window, I apply pressure to the sensor in my palm with my middle and ring fingers. A translucent string spirals out into the night sky.
"Good. They work," I whisper to myself. After all, what's a spider without a web?
Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards?:
- Status
