Sorry if the sample is a bit I kinda just kept going. Also I know I've had to previously drop out of rp unannounced before but I was having all sorts comp and personal life issues culminating with my desktop's hard drive crashing on me. Though now i have reliable roommates and access to 4 computers if there's a problem with mine. But if you give me a chance and I'll do everything I can to not disappoint.
Screenname: Scarab
Character You Would Like To Play: The Question
Basic History Of The Character: Some times it takes a lifetime to truly live a lifetime; however other times it feels like you've lived a lifetime and barely scratched the surface. Victor Sage lost both his parents in a car crash at a young age. He was with them in the backseat, his seatbelt failed though as he was thrown free of the car. A week later he woke up in a hospital having no memory at all of the accident and having missed his parents funeral. He was 7 yrs old in a hospital and completely alone, or so he thought. Two days after he woke up a man came to the hospital a great uncle he had never even heard of had shown up for him. Aristotle Rodor was a good and decent man, he had never even met Vic but when he heard of a child who had lost his parents, a child who was his own blood no matter how far apart he couldn't sit by and not do anything. He took Vic with him when he was able to travel and together they left Hub City. Aristotle was a professor at Gotham University, where he taught advanced biochemistry, and brought Vic to Gotham to live enrolling him in private school.
That is where the trouble started though it didn't seem to take much to set young Victor off. Someone would bump him and the fight would start he would drop a pencil and suddenly his desk was upturned and against the wall. There was so much anger in such a young boy anger against the person who had taken his parents, anger against his parents for dying, anger pointed against Aristotle for taking him away from his friends. No one could figure out how such a young boy could be so angry and most simply gave up on him. Aristotle though didn't he couldn't seem to find any part of his heart that would let him give up on this boy. He could see what it was wasn't anger but rather this boy was lost and afraid. Slowly over the years Vic's anger subsided and he came to view Aristotle as more then an uncle but as a father. Slowly Vic grew up, never understanding why other kids ever had to study school came so easily to him, no matter how much Aristotle tried to ignore it. The two of them were a lot alike both liked to think and wonder they were very different though, Aristotle was a scientist and Vic took an interest in journalism and went out for athletics in school making state in track every year he was in high school.
It seemed to happen much to quickly Vic had graduated and was in college attending Gotham University. Aristotle was working with a new partner a man named Dr. Twain. A professor with tenure and an inventor Aristotle never seemed to slow down and he with his new partner was working on a revolutionary medical aid. A true synthetic skin that could be used as easily in the operating room as it could be used on the battle field. It was flawed though it could be used on skin with no side effects but if it was used on an open wound it could be fatal. Eventually the project was scrapped and both Dr. Twain and Aristotle went their separate ways to new projects. Life was stable and simple for the two of them. Vic was in his senior year and the editor of the Gotham University Daily. Things had never been better for them, it couldn't last though.
Three Reasons Why You Have Chosen That Character:
1. I've always loved the character from his early comic history to the passing of the torch in 52, and even his paranoid conspiracy, singular as he said there was only one, theory self in JLU.
2. I really want to explore his obsessiveness and intensity and see where that comes from. Starting at the beginning we can see some of the things that really drove him and turned him into what he is, changing the specifics but keeping true to his core.
3. I will get to show how he became who is as he takes those steps towards his destiny even though he doesn't know what path he's walking yet.
What Do You Plan On Doing With This Character As A Person (IE: How are you 'utlimizing' him or her?):
I will be able to explore a new facet of the character giving him a stable upbringing by turning his old professor friend into his new father figure. Making him younger and less world wise when events happen pushing him closer and closer to his destiny gives me a chance to really explore him inside and out. Showing him more dynamically as he struggles with base emotions and his own values that were instilled in him as he grew up.
Two Complete Sentences In Proper English Explaining What You Can Bring To This RPG (As A Player):
I have lots of ideas for The Question. With a strong opening for his introduction that I can carry through to add some variety and intrigue to the rp. A character who doesnt know how to be a hero and has to learn from the others.
What Fonts Do You Plan To Use For Your Characters Speech? (Makes the roster look better): Century Gothic Dark Grey as the Question Book Antiqua Blue for Vic
Please Provide A Small Sample Post In The Format You Wish To Portray Your Character In:
There was a squeal of protest as Vic leaned back in the nearly ancient old wooden desk chair. The only light in the university newspaper office coming from the computer screen in front of him. Night had fallen over Gotham hours ago yet he never even noticed as engrossed as I had been in my own little world writing. With a roll of his neck and shoulders a small series of pops echoes within the room. He stood with a small sigh as he arched his back popping it as well as his knuckles while he looked around the room and at his watch.
Its midnight already cant believe Ive been here six hours already.
He leaned over the computer and saving the article to the hard drive a cd, he even put it on a thumbnail drive just in case. With a small chuckle and a smile he sent it to the printer to have a hard copy as well. Cant be to careful especially with a story like this. Not only was half the football team taking steroids and faking the drug tests, the coach was the one peddling the steroids. Simply adding to the entire thing though was the fact that he was using the players to sell drugs to the other students. He smiled again as he shut down the computer, this piece would get him any job he wanted after graduation and likely the student Pulitzer as well. He flipped on a light as he headed towards the printer on the other side of the room, sliding the old chair back into place before moving to printer as he grabbed the still warm sheets of paper. He thumbed the pages before stapling them and sliding them and the cd into the old leather satchel. He buckled it closed and caressed the old soft leather gently it was one of the few things he had left of his parents, he sometimes had trouble remembering them but he still had a piece of them. He knelt down and untied boot slowly as he strung the thumbnail drive on the laces and laced it into the boot as he retied it. It seemed like it was needed but he couldnt say why but he didnt question the instincts and the slight paranoia. He stood then as he pulled the satchel over his shoulder as he headed out of the newsroom. The darkness of the hall didnt bother him he had gone this way so many times he didnt need to see it anymore.
It hit him then knocking the air from him lungs in a single motion accompanied with a small crack. It hurt to be honest it hurt a lot and then he hit the wall first with his shoulder and then with his head. He couldnt breath and his vision blurred maybe from the impact or the overall pain. He knew in truth though for the microsecond he could think that it was likely both.
Oh did wee little Vicky have an accident. I think she fell and went boom aint that right boys?
A round of laughter surrounded him like hot spikes driving into his brain. He could feel his mouth trying to form words but that was about all it did was try for what seemed like an eternity.
Came up with that all on your own huh and brought your friends such a tough football player arent you, take all of you just to try and stop one of me.
The words hurt with each sylable he managed to squeeze out. He knew he had atleast one cracked rib. He had never taken a hit that hard before it was like getting hit by a car, and then it backed back over him.
Smart guy huh? You some kind of machinist? Like getting knocked around well let me help you a little more.
He stomped forward with two of his friends as each grabbed an arm and pulled him forward with a pop. He grunted as his right arm was wrenched out of socket. It hurt. It hurt to breath to think to do much of anything and then it started. The blows rained upon his face over and over the hands holding him up were the only things keeping him standing, as he did a marvelous impersonation of a punching bag. Suddenly though it all stopped.
Wheres that lip now smart guy? Cmon Vicky be funny again.
The lips form the words slowly and the air somehow manages to make it past the blood in his mouth. The funniest damn things come to mind at the oddest times sometimes like when you being beaten to a pulp have a broken rib and dislocated shoulder and likely, what I would call, a severe concussion. Though my voice was not much more then a ragged whisper coated with bloodied saliva.
Baby don't hurt me
Don't hurt me
no more
Baby don't hurt me
Don't hurt me
no more
What is love
Yeah
Oh I don't know
why you're not fair
I give you my love
but you don't care
So what is right
and what is wrong
gimme a sign
The blows raining in the entire time he sung. Slowly Vic managed to look up at his attacker, with a dry chuckle, as he wasnt even a mask to hide himself. With a snort of disgust at how cocky this dick he just watched him for a second.
By the way a second ago were you trying to say masochist? You dumb ox.
That one did it his friends grips tightened as he sneered at Vic.
Im done playing with you little bitty Vicky. Wheres the paper about the coach? Hmm. Next time maybe youll keep all your smart questions to yourself. Now how about your bag bet thats where you keep it.
With that he tensed no the didnt get to touch his bag its his and was his parents they didnt deserve to touch that bag. His eyes narrowed as he pulled at the Neanderthals grips.
No its only the smart questions that should ever be asked
It was futile but the pain was gone somehow he didnt feel it yet he knew it was there waiting. He jerked harder faster and he slipped free before they had to time to understand what was happening. He was beaten and battered he shouldnt be able to yet he did and even though it was just one arm free he threw all the weight he could behind it. It was satisfying somewhere inside of him to hear the crack and feel the crunch as a jaw broke under his knuckles. He wouldnt be talking to anyone else for awhile and the was fine with Vic, it meant he didnt have to hear anything else from him tonight. Thats all he could do though he didnt see where the came from but there were two others that came out of the shadows. He could feel each blow but they soon blurred into one long impact. He didnt know how long it was but soon he was knocked unconscious.
The next day he woke up in the hospital one eye swollen shut and his entire body numb, that was a truly the miracle of morphine. Aristotle was at his side in a moment a finger to his lips, as Vic tried to speak.
Its ok boy youre safe now well take care of ya .dont worry they didnt get the all your copies. I dont know why you tied it to your boot but its good you did. Now rest up youll be in that bed for awhile.
Do You Know How To Post Pictures On The Hype?:
Yep
Screenname: Scarab
Character You Would Like To Play: The Question
Basic History Of The Character: Some times it takes a lifetime to truly live a lifetime; however other times it feels like you've lived a lifetime and barely scratched the surface. Victor Sage lost both his parents in a car crash at a young age. He was with them in the backseat, his seatbelt failed though as he was thrown free of the car. A week later he woke up in a hospital having no memory at all of the accident and having missed his parents funeral. He was 7 yrs old in a hospital and completely alone, or so he thought. Two days after he woke up a man came to the hospital a great uncle he had never even heard of had shown up for him. Aristotle Rodor was a good and decent man, he had never even met Vic but when he heard of a child who had lost his parents, a child who was his own blood no matter how far apart he couldn't sit by and not do anything. He took Vic with him when he was able to travel and together they left Hub City. Aristotle was a professor at Gotham University, where he taught advanced biochemistry, and brought Vic to Gotham to live enrolling him in private school.
That is where the trouble started though it didn't seem to take much to set young Victor off. Someone would bump him and the fight would start he would drop a pencil and suddenly his desk was upturned and against the wall. There was so much anger in such a young boy anger against the person who had taken his parents, anger against his parents for dying, anger pointed against Aristotle for taking him away from his friends. No one could figure out how such a young boy could be so angry and most simply gave up on him. Aristotle though didn't he couldn't seem to find any part of his heart that would let him give up on this boy. He could see what it was wasn't anger but rather this boy was lost and afraid. Slowly over the years Vic's anger subsided and he came to view Aristotle as more then an uncle but as a father. Slowly Vic grew up, never understanding why other kids ever had to study school came so easily to him, no matter how much Aristotle tried to ignore it. The two of them were a lot alike both liked to think and wonder they were very different though, Aristotle was a scientist and Vic took an interest in journalism and went out for athletics in school making state in track every year he was in high school.
It seemed to happen much to quickly Vic had graduated and was in college attending Gotham University. Aristotle was working with a new partner a man named Dr. Twain. A professor with tenure and an inventor Aristotle never seemed to slow down and he with his new partner was working on a revolutionary medical aid. A true synthetic skin that could be used as easily in the operating room as it could be used on the battle field. It was flawed though it could be used on skin with no side effects but if it was used on an open wound it could be fatal. Eventually the project was scrapped and both Dr. Twain and Aristotle went their separate ways to new projects. Life was stable and simple for the two of them. Vic was in his senior year and the editor of the Gotham University Daily. Things had never been better for them, it couldn't last though.
Three Reasons Why You Have Chosen That Character:
1. I've always loved the character from his early comic history to the passing of the torch in 52, and even his paranoid conspiracy, singular as he said there was only one, theory self in JLU.
2. I really want to explore his obsessiveness and intensity and see where that comes from. Starting at the beginning we can see some of the things that really drove him and turned him into what he is, changing the specifics but keeping true to his core.
3. I will get to show how he became who is as he takes those steps towards his destiny even though he doesn't know what path he's walking yet.
What Do You Plan On Doing With This Character As A Person (IE: How are you 'utlimizing' him or her?):
I will be able to explore a new facet of the character giving him a stable upbringing by turning his old professor friend into his new father figure. Making him younger and less world wise when events happen pushing him closer and closer to his destiny gives me a chance to really explore him inside and out. Showing him more dynamically as he struggles with base emotions and his own values that were instilled in him as he grew up.
Two Complete Sentences In Proper English Explaining What You Can Bring To This RPG (As A Player):
I have lots of ideas for The Question. With a strong opening for his introduction that I can carry through to add some variety and intrigue to the rp. A character who doesnt know how to be a hero and has to learn from the others.
What Fonts Do You Plan To Use For Your Characters Speech? (Makes the roster look better): Century Gothic Dark Grey as the Question Book Antiqua Blue for Vic
Please Provide A Small Sample Post In The Format You Wish To Portray Your Character In:
There was a squeal of protest as Vic leaned back in the nearly ancient old wooden desk chair. The only light in the university newspaper office coming from the computer screen in front of him. Night had fallen over Gotham hours ago yet he never even noticed as engrossed as I had been in my own little world writing. With a roll of his neck and shoulders a small series of pops echoes within the room. He stood with a small sigh as he arched his back popping it as well as his knuckles while he looked around the room and at his watch.
Its midnight already cant believe Ive been here six hours already.
He leaned over the computer and saving the article to the hard drive a cd, he even put it on a thumbnail drive just in case. With a small chuckle and a smile he sent it to the printer to have a hard copy as well. Cant be to careful especially with a story like this. Not only was half the football team taking steroids and faking the drug tests, the coach was the one peddling the steroids. Simply adding to the entire thing though was the fact that he was using the players to sell drugs to the other students. He smiled again as he shut down the computer, this piece would get him any job he wanted after graduation and likely the student Pulitzer as well. He flipped on a light as he headed towards the printer on the other side of the room, sliding the old chair back into place before moving to printer as he grabbed the still warm sheets of paper. He thumbed the pages before stapling them and sliding them and the cd into the old leather satchel. He buckled it closed and caressed the old soft leather gently it was one of the few things he had left of his parents, he sometimes had trouble remembering them but he still had a piece of them. He knelt down and untied boot slowly as he strung the thumbnail drive on the laces and laced it into the boot as he retied it. It seemed like it was needed but he couldnt say why but he didnt question the instincts and the slight paranoia. He stood then as he pulled the satchel over his shoulder as he headed out of the newsroom. The darkness of the hall didnt bother him he had gone this way so many times he didnt need to see it anymore.
It hit him then knocking the air from him lungs in a single motion accompanied with a small crack. It hurt to be honest it hurt a lot and then he hit the wall first with his shoulder and then with his head. He couldnt breath and his vision blurred maybe from the impact or the overall pain. He knew in truth though for the microsecond he could think that it was likely both.
Oh did wee little Vicky have an accident. I think she fell and went boom aint that right boys?
A round of laughter surrounded him like hot spikes driving into his brain. He could feel his mouth trying to form words but that was about all it did was try for what seemed like an eternity.
Came up with that all on your own huh and brought your friends such a tough football player arent you, take all of you just to try and stop one of me.
The words hurt with each sylable he managed to squeeze out. He knew he had atleast one cracked rib. He had never taken a hit that hard before it was like getting hit by a car, and then it backed back over him.
Smart guy huh? You some kind of machinist? Like getting knocked around well let me help you a little more.
He stomped forward with two of his friends as each grabbed an arm and pulled him forward with a pop. He grunted as his right arm was wrenched out of socket. It hurt. It hurt to breath to think to do much of anything and then it started. The blows rained upon his face over and over the hands holding him up were the only things keeping him standing, as he did a marvelous impersonation of a punching bag. Suddenly though it all stopped.
Wheres that lip now smart guy? Cmon Vicky be funny again.
The lips form the words slowly and the air somehow manages to make it past the blood in his mouth. The funniest damn things come to mind at the oddest times sometimes like when you being beaten to a pulp have a broken rib and dislocated shoulder and likely, what I would call, a severe concussion. Though my voice was not much more then a ragged whisper coated with bloodied saliva.
Baby don't hurt me
Don't hurt me
no more
Baby don't hurt me
Don't hurt me
no more
What is love
Yeah
Oh I don't know
why you're not fair
I give you my love
but you don't care
So what is right
and what is wrong
gimme a sign
The blows raining in the entire time he sung. Slowly Vic managed to look up at his attacker, with a dry chuckle, as he wasnt even a mask to hide himself. With a snort of disgust at how cocky this dick he just watched him for a second.
By the way a second ago were you trying to say masochist? You dumb ox.
That one did it his friends grips tightened as he sneered at Vic.
Im done playing with you little bitty Vicky. Wheres the paper about the coach? Hmm. Next time maybe youll keep all your smart questions to yourself. Now how about your bag bet thats where you keep it.
With that he tensed no the didnt get to touch his bag its his and was his parents they didnt deserve to touch that bag. His eyes narrowed as he pulled at the Neanderthals grips.
No its only the smart questions that should ever be asked
It was futile but the pain was gone somehow he didnt feel it yet he knew it was there waiting. He jerked harder faster and he slipped free before they had to time to understand what was happening. He was beaten and battered he shouldnt be able to yet he did and even though it was just one arm free he threw all the weight he could behind it. It was satisfying somewhere inside of him to hear the crack and feel the crunch as a jaw broke under his knuckles. He wouldnt be talking to anyone else for awhile and the was fine with Vic, it meant he didnt have to hear anything else from him tonight. Thats all he could do though he didnt see where the came from but there were two others that came out of the shadows. He could feel each blow but they soon blurred into one long impact. He didnt know how long it was but soon he was knocked unconscious.
The next day he woke up in the hospital one eye swollen shut and his entire body numb, that was a truly the miracle of morphine. Aristotle was at his side in a moment a finger to his lips, as Vic tried to speak.
Its ok boy youre safe now well take care of ya .dont worry they didnt get the all your copies. I dont know why you tied it to your boot but its good you did. Now rest up youll be in that bed for awhile.
Do You Know How To Post Pictures On The Hype?:
Yep
