I'm dropping Martian Manhunter. Byrd, I apologize as I know we had plans. You can still go through with them, if you'd like. The truth is that I didn't have any plans with MM, and it caught up to me quickly. So, instead, I'm returning to a character for which I
did have plans.
. THE NEW ULTIMATE DC RPG .
Character Application
.Screen name: Eddie Brock
.Character you wish to portray: Oliver Queen /
Green Arrow
.Hero, villain, or walking the line?: Hero, mostly.
.Powers and physical attributes: It's not a power, per say, but Oliver is exceptionally skilled with a bow and arrow. Or a crossbow. Or, really, any projectile, but he typically sticks with those two. Furthermore, Ollie has trained his body to its peak potential, making him a formidable combatant and a skilled swordsman. Oh, and while it's neither a power
nor a physical attribute, it's worth noting that Ollie is filthy rich - meaning nearly endless resources.
.Origin and backstory (as you see it): Oliver Queen was born to Robert and Laura Queen, billionaire socialites in Star City. Robert Queen founded Queen Industries, one of the largest companies behind LexCorp and Wayne Enterprises. Oliver was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but as a result of his parents' busy schedules, he never quite got to know them as well as he would have liked. His opportunity to do so was lost when they were killed in a tragic plane accident following a business trip.
In their will, the Queens left the running of the Queen Industries to Oliver, but he was far too young. Oliver was sent away to boarding school while the company fell into the hands of Connor Hawke, one of Robert Queen's oldest business partners. Hawke was annoyed that Oliver was given control over Queen Industries, but he remained silent. In the meantime, Ollie grew quite a reputation as a wild child.
When Ollie turned eighteen, he returned to Star City to fulfill his obligation to his parents. Hawke, however, had other plans. He framed Ollie for possession with intent to sell, sending Ollie away to prison. In Ollie's absence, Hawke was granted control over Queen Industries at last. However, while Hawke reveled in his victory, Ollie lived among the worst of the worst, plotting his revenge.
Eight years later, Ollie's due to be released early on good behavior. His time inside has given him a new perspective, and he's ready to set out on a quest that he feels is necessary.
.The burning question - Why this character?: The prospect of playing a normal guy on a mission intrigues me. Ollie's troubled past makes him an interesting character to wrap your head around. And, with this new backstory, I'm ready to set out on a Season-long quest to restore Ollie's name and reputation. It's a story that will be fun to tell, and will act as a springboard into the future.
.How will this version of your character differ from others? How will it be Ultimate?: This is a younger Ollie. As a quick review of basic mathematics, Ollie was eighteen when he went in. He spent eight years in federal prison. That means he's twenty-six years old. In truth, he knows next to nothing about running Queen Industries. If he had it his way, that responsibility wouldn't fall on him. But he isn't going to shy away from it. We get to watch Ollie mature - although, he'll still be good ol' Ollie. Womanizing, partying, drinking, etc. These vices will still plague him. But underneath it all, he has a mission.
.What do you believe you can bring to the RPG?: Reliability and excitement. I still don't know where I "rank" in terms of quality, but I'd like to think that - at the very least - my stories are interesting, if not
always superbly written.
.Provide a sample post as the character you wish to portray, in three paragraphs or more:
I check the paper once more as I look up at the hangar. I used some of my not-inconsiderable resources, and I managed to have someone investigate the ownership and activity of every private hangar at this airport. Only one
truly meets the requirements for being this elusive hideaway. This is it, and I might not have a better night to make a run on it.
Examining my selection, I elect to go with the compound bow tonight. Throwing it over my shoulder, I close the car's trunk. I pick up my quiver and throw it over my
other shoulder. It's going to be a rough night. I adjust my sunglasses - which are specifically modified to allow me to see, despite the dark conditions - and I raise my hood. I
definitely need a much better outfit for this thing.
The hangar doors are closed, and the side entrance is locked. There's no way to scale the walls, and - even if I could - the windows don't appear large enough for me to fit. It looks like I'm going to have to be a little less resourceful and a little more blunt tonight.
With one strong kick, the side entrance door is blown off its hinges. As the sawdust clears, I string up my bow. I'm not three feet in when a bullet whizzes by my shoulder. Acting instinctively, I fire an arrow blindly into the hangar. The lack of a grunt, squeal, or other human noise tells me that I missed my target. That's to be expected when you don't
see your target first. I can't afford to be so stupid. This is
real. There's
real danger tonight.
"WHO THE HELL'S THERE?" a strong voice calls out from behind crates and boxes.
I quickly duck behind a crate. Drawing another arrow, I answer,
"The repo man." I spin around the corner and catch a glimpse of an arm. Wasting no time, I fire an arrow. It hits the target silently. His scream, however,
isn't so silent.
"TOMMY! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" the voice barks once more. It's echoing off the hangar walls. I have no way of knowing where its coming from. Another bullet takes a piece out of the crate above me, so I duck low and keep moving.
"TOMMY!"
"Are you really saying your partner's name out loud?" I ask rhetorically. I move in the direction of "Tommy," the man I hit. I turn another corner and find myself where he was once standing. There's nothing there. Some blood is splattered on the crate and on the ground, but "Tommy" kept moving - much like myself.
A box falls behind me. Wheeling, I manage to get off an arrow before I'm even done spinning. The woman - yeah, I know - winces as the arrow grazes her hand, and she tosses her gun helplessly. I string up another arrow, but there's no point. She's unarmed.
"HE'S OVER HERE!"
But still dangerous.
Lowering my bow, I spin and deliver a kick to the woman's cheek. She lands against a column of wooden boxes, which proceed to collapse. Footsteps hurry in my direction. I pull myself up onto a crate to get a better view of the hangar.
From above, it's a maze of boxes, crates, and items strewn about. At the far end, a small private plane is idling. Coming from the plane is a man. He's running full-speed when an arrow pierces his toes. Falling gracelessly, his chin makes a crack as it hits the solid floor. He groans and doesn't get up.
"Uhhh..."
"UP THERE!"
I don't spin fast enough to respond. A bullet grazes my side, and I lose my footing. Falling from atop the crate, I experience the solidity of the floor first-hand. Footsteps rush around the corner. Without standing up, I draw an arrow from my quiver. I suddenly realize that it snapped in the fall. Discarding it, I grab another as the man appears around the corner. He's bleeding from the arm.
"Tommy. Good to meet you." I line up a dangerous shot as Tommy raises his gun. As his finger twitches on the trigger, I release. The arrow sails through the air and clips its intended target: Tommy's ear. Tommy's head spins, and the rest of his body follows suit. He falls to the ground at the same time that I pull myself up.
Just then, the woman dives for Tommy's discarded gun. I'm a hair faster. Her eyes are locked on the weapon when my heel comes crashing down on her fingers. She screeches pointedly, and I kick the gun away with my other foot.
"I daresay the 'jig' is 'up,'" I smile proudly. The woman sneers.
.Do you know how to post pictures on the Hype?:
I went back and read what you have done and what you have planned (through your application), so I won't accidentally step on your toes. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.
