THE NEW ULTIMATE DC RPG .
Character Application
.Screen name: Syn
.Character you wish to portray: Floyd Lawton, codename Deadshot
.Hero, villain, or walking the line?: Villain
.Powers and physical attributes: Accuracy
.Origin and backstory (as you see it): Floyd Lawton was born a normal boy, living a normal life in his hometown with his family. Of course, his normalcy didn't last very long. One day, Floyd got into an arguement with a boy at his elementary school. The boy claimed Floyd took his pair of scissors, calling him a thief, among other names. Deciding to resolve the conflict himself, Floyd returned the stolen impliment by shoving it into the other student's neck. Floyd was arrested and tried in court, but the jury found that he wasn't compentant of his actions. Instead, they sent him to a psychiatric facility where he was evaluated for a month. During that time, he severely beat another patient over some nontrivial issue. It was then the doctors realized that Floyd was not such a normal child.
After a few years, Floyd was diagnosed with mania, classifying him as a sociopath with a detachment from people and and the dissability to discern between right and wrong. They kept Floyd under close supervision at Red Shadows Asylum for many years.
Sixteen years later, a new proprieter took control of Red Shadows as part of a buyout in a business deal. Maxwell Lord, rising entrepeanur and millionaire tycoon, began reviewing the patients at Red Shadows Asylum. It wasn't long before Lord came across the profile of Floyd Lawton. Finding an oppurtunity too good to pass up, Max took special interest in Floyd and decided to use him in his endeavors.
Now, Floyd Lawton, aka Deadshot as classified by Lord, is used as a mercenary for hire. Maxwell Lord rents Floyd out to the highest bidder, sending him along with his handlers to do whatever task the buyer asks. In return, Floyd gets the opportunity to satisfy his bloodlust and enjoy life, having the ability to breath in fresh air and be out in public, a freedom his commitement to the Asylum would not regularly allow.
As far as the world knows, Floyd Lawton continues to recieve treatment at Red Shadows Asylum - but the underworld has a different knowledge. They know Lord rents one of the best assassins in the business - and they're all lined up to pay the pricetag.
.The burning question - Why this character?: Deadshot is awesome, in my opinion. I played him last time and I want to play him again. But this time - with a twist.
.How will this version of your character differ from others? How will it be Ultimate?: Before Floyd was an apathetic merc who didn't care if he lived or died. My Floyd is a murderer, a psychopath who's only desire is to kill. Should be interesting...
.What do you believe you can bring to the RPG?: Smokes.
.Provide a sample post as the character you wish to portray, in three paragraphs or more:
Metropolis; city of prestige, power, and opportunity. Inside its harbor, a city envied by many resides, bustling with the busy tasks of its many venues. A hero watches over this city, monitoring its activities from the skies with a protective eye. He saves those in danger, thwarts crime, and keeps order as best he can. But no man is perfect; no man omniscient of all that takes place. Even some things escape the eyes of the sentinel of liberty.
Suicide Slums - an old run down building by the harbor, a man breathes heavily as he runs up a never ending flight of stairs. His feet hit each metal step hard as he thrust his body upward, hoping to escape from this metal cage alive. He rises through the building, going up flight after flight, hoping to reach a safe sanctum.
After a few moments of frantic sprints, the man soon reaches the top floor, a small platform only a foot wide leading to a locked door. The man drops his shoulder and begins pounding into the door, thrusting with all his weight and might to break in the thick steal door. He tries with everything he has, ramming himself against the door hoping for a miracle. After minutes of futile effort, he soon collapses, weary and tired. He rubs his shoulder gently, hoping to sooth the burning pain from the bruise that is most likely beginning to form.
As he sits in the silence, he hears something, a terrifying noise that makes his heart drop down into his gut. Listening closely, he focuses on the repeative sound, the "pit-pat" of footsteps as his stalker walks up the stairs closer and closer toward him. "No..." he says with a gasp, knowing what is coming for him. He tries to rise to his feet, tries to force his body to move so he has some kind of chance for escape - but he is weak, his body is spent, and the pain in his shoulder seems to be the final nail in his coffin.
As the footsteps grow closer, the man simply watches the stair case, seeing the figure as it comes into view. "Oh, no...please...no..." he says wearily, leaning back against the metal door as the figure reaches the last few steps. Suddenly, the figure stops, standing only feet in front of the man. He stares at him, eyes heartlessly examining his prey as the rest of his body remains stiff like a statue.
"Please," the man pleads, shaking his head slowly back and forth. "I-I'll pay the money. I'll pay him, I swear. I'll get Hansin the money - I will, I promise I will. Please, just let me live." As tears of fear begin to roll down the man's face, his attacker simply stares at him - cold and lifeless, devoid of emotion of compassion.
"Tell me, Mr. Right," the figure suddenly speaks. He takes a step closer, inching toward the man as he cowers in terror.
"What did you expect would happen when you reached the top floor?" The man's mouth drops as he ponders the question, realizing how futile his efforts at escape really were.
Smoothly, the attacker reaches to hip and slips his hand into his pocket. As he pulls his hand out, he reveals something held carefully between his fingers - a credit card, its silver exterior shimmering in the dull light.
"Here," the attacker says heartlessly as he shows the piece of plastic to his target.
"I believe this is yours." Suddenly, his fingers twitch, and the card flies from his hand. Before a breath can be made, the thin rectagular object flies through the air, its edge brushing perfectly by the man's neck, severing the skin and the artery that lies just beneath the surface.
The man coughs only once, his eyes rolling back into his head before he can raise his hands to the wound. Blood begins to flow from the slit, trickling down his moist neck and down past the collar of his shirt, wetting the fabric and causing a red stain. As the attacker watches, two men in black suits rise up the stairs to meet him.
"Alright, Floyd," one of the men says. "Good work."
"Yeah, Hanson said he finished the transfer this morning. Job's finished."
The man stays silent, only staring at the bloody neck of his victim. "Hey, Floyd, did you hear me?"
Suddenly the man turns, simply moving his neck as he looks over his shoulder, the rest of his body remaining still.
"Now it's back to the cell, right?" He asks with a sneer, his white canines reflecting a soft glow as the light glistens off his saliva.
"Nah, man." One of the men says with a smile. "Mr. Lord called us a few minutes ago. Looks like we've got a new buyer." The killer smiles, the skin of his cheeks rising high to reveal a satisfied grin.
"Oh boy," he speaks, the emotion of his words seeming forced.
"Let's hope the next one can actually put up a fight."
.Do you know how to post pictures on the Hype?: