The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season III


Dark Lord of the RPG's
Aug 4, 2005
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This is Season III of the DC Universe “World of Heroes” RPG, similar to the previous two Seasons of The "World of Heroes" DC RPG and the "Heroes vs. Villains: Marvel" RPG Season IV in the Marvel Comics Board.
This is instead the planet Earth of the DC Universe.​


If you want to take part in this, just fill in the application at the bottom of this post and I'll put your name and character on the first post here. First come, first serve.


  • You can choose to be any superhero or supervillain in the DC Universe, as long as they:

Are to be established on Earth, as in, if Lobo is to be involved, he has to reside in a DCU Earth city...

Are NOT deities, gods, or people such as Shazam the Wizard. People like Superman and Captain Marvel are okay, though...

Are true to the personality and abilities of the character, such as NO Pre-Crisis Superman, no moving planets, sneezing away the Milky Way, no amnesia kiss... EVERYTHING is set POST-Crisis, and Post-Zero Hour, in the current continuity of the character you are/wish to play/playing.

  • You can reside in an city in the DC Universe, anywhere is fine, as long as it's on Earth. YOU CAN NOW ALSO TRAVEL OFF-PLANET...

  • This is a working environment, so you can travel to different places using your powers or vehicles. Don't miraculously pop up unless you're a teleporter or such.

  • Don't do anything RANDOM like chopping off board user's heads or what not, unless your a villain chopping off inanimate victims heads, then whatever, go with it, as long as it's not technically RANDOM.
    Don't be killing people without reason.
    Don't randomly kill NPC's.

  • You know your weaknesses and strengths, what you can do or can't. Black Canary will lose against Superman one on one, but may be able to use her allies to help her out or she can run away. (HA! Yeah ri-ght)

  • You should have a ‘homebase’ of some sort, at least in the beginning when your not traveling...

  • Don’t kill a PC unless you have a plan to bring them back.
    Don’t kill your character when you quit the RPG, this rob's a person from playing that character.

  • If there is a problem between you and another player,
    or if you have question's please talk to one of the Gamemasters. The list of Gamemasters is at the top of this post.

  • new9ft.gif
    There should be MINIMAL cussing and swearing in posts.
    There will be NO By-passing the censors. This is a Hype rule, and NO exceptions will be made for the RPG.

  • No obscene topics!

What to do in the RPG-

  • Act like your character, ASSUME their traits and personality...

  • You can form supervillain gangs, superhero teams, alliances, the works.

  • There can be a number of stories (or arcs) going on at once, using different people.

  • There are endless places to go and endless things to do: ENDLESS possibilities so get creative...

People who disobey these rules, some more major than the others, will get BOOTED a la DEW K. MOSI. As she said about the first thread...
Dew k. Mosi said:
The game is closed. It will start again and the first person to screw it up will be booted.

For more of the ‘rules’ see- RPG Etiquette

Now here are the players and their characters (alphabetized in each group):


Barbara Gordon/Oracle

Blue Beetle/ Ted Kord
Ash Loomis

Captain Marvel/Billy Batson

Dr. Mid-Nite II

Green Lantern (Guy Gardner)

Green Lantern (Kyle Rayner)


The Question
The Question


The Justice League of America is dissolved for Season III


Green Lantern (Hal Jordan)


The Flash (III) Wally West


Live Wire
Johnny Blaze

Saturn Girl


“Meet it as I set it down,
That one may smile, and smile, and still be a villain…”
Hamlet, Act 1


Mr. Freeze
Master Bruce

Red X
The Red X


The Joker
Keyser Soze

The Parasite

The Riddler

Two Face

Hyper Venom

~~ Reserve/Part time player

*** Player placed on notice;
These are people who have posted below or on the 7 post mark and/or have been absent from game play a week or longer.
After another week they will be taken off the roster and they can re-apply for their character again.



DC RPG Season III Application:

Screen Name:

Character you would like to play:


Three reasons why you have chosen that character:

Write two complete sentences using proper English grammar explaining what you think you can bring to the RPG:

How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG:

Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards:

How did you find out about this game, Recruitment thread/word of post/seeing the RPG OOC/IC thread?

Fill out the application and post it in The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season III Signup/OOC Thread


And for those who are new to Role-Playing...

*I ran through the forest, faster than I had ever run before. There was something after me. Something big. I didn’t know what. It snarled and bared its teeth and chased after me. It was dark, nighttime, and I couldn’t where I was going. I then escaped the forest and ended up on a beach. The tide was low, and I could hear the surf. Whatever creature had been chasing me had stopped when I left the woods. I looked around. I was on a beach all right. The full moon was bright and large. I’m surprised the tide wasn’t higher.

The moon took up most of my vision. I started walking towards the water and left the beach completely. The water surrounded me, and I found myself back in Coast City. My home. Then I looked up the moon. It wasn’t the way it should have been.*


“God damn.”

*I had to get to Carol. I started running towards our house, but I was in the middle of the city, and it’d take a long time to get home. If only I had my… of course! My ring! As I charged green, I tripped and feel face first into the ground. And I kept on falling.

I found myself in Earth’s upper orbit. I watched the sun and the earth and the celestial bodies. Including the moon. But mother would not always be there for us…


I felt the explosion rip through me. I was still in one piece, but the Watchtower. What would become of it?

“I WANT TO KNOW!!!” I yelled.


*The moon fragments hit the earth and tremendous speeds, rippling through brick and mortar, steel and people. People burned as I waited in space. And soon enough, I began to burn as I went through orbit. The searing pain all around me, the flames, it engulfed me.*


“AHHHH!!!” I screamed, waking up. Carol woked up beside me and sat up.

“What’s the matter, honey?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Bad dream? Is it that nightmare again?”

“Nightmare? What nightmare? I haven’t had that one in who knows when,” I said hastily.

“You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Go back to sleep. I’ll just go downstairs for some pie.”

“Pie? Tom’s here? At this time?” she asked, groggily.

“No Carol, I meant the baked good, not the person. Go back to bed. Everything’ll be fine.”

*I began to walk downstairs.*

“I hope.”
Occ: I was never able to obtain the issue with Prometheus’ first appearance so I don’t know the specifics of his parent’s death, but it won’t matter to any of the other posters characters. I just didn’t want anyone telling me I was wrong with me already knowing I was wrong.

IC: Prometheus

I run my fingers through my hair and see the strands of it on my fingers. I see its sickening white color and I remember the day it changed to that color. The day my life changed forever.

It was just the regular job. They were going to just go in, get the money and get out. My parents were almost to the getaway car when the cops showed up. Dad was shot first, in the arm, the blood from the wound hit my mom’s arm and face. Before she was able to react she was hit twice in the chest. Tears streamed down my dads face as a bullet drove through his forehead. My hair turned as white as the moon light that shined on their lifeless bodies. The whole event lasted about fifteen seconds after my parents pulled out their guns but I remember them in the clearest detail, like it was happening right now, at this very second.

I re-live that moment every time I look at myself. I’ll kill all the self- proclaimed hero’s. All the people that care about the regular family but couldn’t care less about families like mine. The ones who would wipe my parents off of the face of the earth without thinking about me, the kids like me.

I have to start over, build from the ground up. I’ll start at the bottom and work my way up. I’ll kill them all, I swear to you, mom and dad, on the graves that you lay in, I’ll kill them all.
At the Gotham network studios the 'Late night Gotham live' show was getting ready to air.The audience were seated and the cameramen were assembling in front of the stage.

Suddenly thru the ventilation system came a purple gas which began to fill the studio.The people in the studio began to cough and were suddenly paralysed.Their limbs were frozen.

Then onto the stage skipped Harley Quinn who stood in front of the audience with her hands on her hips and smiled.

"I always knew when I made my big break in TV that I'd have my audience spellbound" she said gleefully as she skipped to one of the cameras and kicked the camera man aside.

"S'cuse me hon I just gotta get this thing rollin.We don't want the people of Gotham to miss this show.No sir".Harley flicked the switch and they began to broadcast.

The show's music came on.The 'On Air' lights flashed.


Harley went back up on stage and smiled a big adoring smile into the cameras.

"Hello late show lovers and lovers of the late show.It's late night Gotham live.We bring you good people a very,very special show this evening.Oh yes this is going to be very educational" Harley chirped.


"Oh but don't take my word for it.No it's the job of our host to entertain us.Yes folks here he is,the man who puts a smile on your face whether you want it or not.Presenting that caliph of clowns,the mogul of mounte banks,the one and only JOKER!!!!".

"I need a smoke badly."

I take out my pack and a lighter and light up a cigerette, take a puff and continue walking around New York City. It was only a couple months after the funerals where I have given up my leadership of the Teen Titians and had escaped the shadow of Batman until I am ready to return to his side. I walk up to an old broken down apartment building and walk in the door where I see the landlord Mike reading a newspaper and drinking beer. He looks up at the sound of noise and sees me.

"Where's my godamm rent?"

"I'll have it in two days Mike."

"You better have it!" he hollers after me as I walk up the creaky stairs to the 3rd floor, to my apartment. I let myself in and throw the cigerette down and stamp on it with my foot. I walk over to the window and look out at the city.

"My new playground."
I want to break the bat. I have studied him my whole life. I did break him once but... he came back. *Picks up a 500 pound dumbbell and throws it at a poster of Batman*. Bruce Wayne, I will break you and this time you wont come back. But I need someone to help me. "I AM BANE AND I WILL BREAK YOU BATMAN" he shouted. The scream ecohed 4 blocks away.
IC: The Question

November 24th. Thanksgiving. A time to be thankful for all the good things you have. There's nothing to be thankful for in Hub City. This city is the closest thing on earth comparable to hell. Poverty is at an all time high. City hall is either run by buisness fatcats or racist zenophobes. The mobs controll almost every part of town and are at constant war. Almost 85% of the police force is on the take. Crimes go unanswered for.

Three weeks ago Tory Stone, Alison kearny, Barbara Bogachev, and Damelza Levick were gunned down in a gang shoot out while walking home from school.

Four days ago a man named William Caroll was found face down in his cereal with a bullet in his head, mob exicution style.

Last night a boy named Mathew Frazier died after on chrystal meth. And no one in this town cares. Except me.

These people deserve justice. They're families deserve answers. And I'm the only man in this town willing to ask the right questions.


This is the rich part of town. Where the social elite sit on their ivory towers and watch the hudled masses of this city writhe in pain and agony. "When the rich go to war, it is the poor who die."

This home of Jonathan Nguyen. A classmate of the Frazier boy. They were seen walking downtown together three houres before Matt was found dead on his kitchen floor.

I wait till his parents drive off, and break into his room while he is downstairs. There I find it. A bag of chrystal meth. I make a little call on my cell-phone, and then I wait in his room, in the dark, until he and his girlfriend enter in an oh so passionate embrace. I throw the bag at their feet.

"I beleive this belongs to you, Mr. Nguyen. Oh, and please leave the lights off."

"What the ****?!?!?!"

He reaches for the lightswitch. I jump up and grab his fingers. And twist.


"I asked for you to leave the lights off!"

His girlfriend speaks.

"What do you want?!?!?!"

"My quarell is not with you, my dear. It is with your boy toy here."

I grab him by the collar and drag him over to the open window, holding him out of it.

"Where did you get these drugs?!"


I drop him and grab his collar just in time. He screams.



I pull him back in.

"Thankyou for being so helpful Mr. Nguyen. Oh, and by the way....."

His parents' car pulls into the driveway.

"I took the liberty of calling your parents and telling them about your 'stash'."

I walk over to his girlfriend.

"You were an innocent in all of this ma'am. I apologise for ruining your evening in."

I then then walk over to the open window.

"Good day to you all."

I climb up onto the roof. As I walk away I hear Jonathan's parents yelling at him.

Part of me can't help but love this job just a little bit.
The night air was sweet.

It was usually dirty,filled with pollution.......But this night was different.

The air was actually....clearer.


He needed clarity,on a night like this.

Nightwing had battled alot of rouges in his time.

The Joker,The Penguin,Blockbuster,Two-Face,and even Bane.

Killer Croc,for some reason,Stood out......When it came to brawling.


Nightwing was knocked a large degree,by Croc's huge fist.

His vision was blurry,as He looked up.His eyes widened.

"....Oh crap."

Croc was doing something Nightwing had hoped he WOULDNT.

He was lifting a heavy object.A CAR,to be exact.

Nightwing wasnt Superman.He couldnt catch the damned thing,If Croc suceeded in throwing it.


Crocs mutation was back.When Poison Ivy took control of Catwoman,and the whole "Hush" conspiracy thing started.....Batmans first advasary in the ordeal was a mutated Croc.

Well.....Now Nightwing had to deal with it.

Why couldnt Croc just STAY in Gotham?

Not wanting to become a literal pancake due to a car being crushed ontop of him,Nightwing did the most desperate thing he could think of....

Taking both feet,He kicked Croc in a.....well...."sensitive area".

Crocs eyes widened,as he yelped in pain.

Cupping that area,Croc looked up,only to be met by a flying billy club.


The billy club,as impossible as it sounded,had just broken Crocs nose.

Not wasting any time,and not wanting to give Croc any damn chance,Nightwing flipped in the air,and sent a flying kick to his face,worsening the wound on his nose.

Nightwings plan was fairly simple....

He was going to beat the living hell out of Croc,before He could even lift another finger.

"You know..."

Nightwing flipped again,and sent a hard roundhouse punch to the back of Crocs skull.

"...You REALLY...."

Nightwing sent a back kick to Crocs back.


Nightwing spun,and sent a spin kick to Crocs face,as he turned around.

"...REALLY know how to piss a guy off."

Nightwing was fed up with Croc.

He had eaten THREE people.THREE PEOPLE......In his city.

And for what?

Some sick,twisted,mutant appetite he had aquired from his mutation?

Needless to say,Nightwing wasnt in a very happy mood.

Then again....Neither was Croc.

"YOUR GONNA DIE,BOY!!!!!!"Croc screamed,spitting blood out as he talked.

Nightwing folded his arms.

"You DO realise Ive been told that by...about....ten thousand people in my life,right?"

Croc roared.Nightwing yawned,mockingly.

"Ive heard better roars from Tony the Tiger."

Focus,Dick.....Your not Wally West.Wise-Cracking is cute for about......five seconds....but it tends to get annoying as hell.

And considering Croc's already pretty pissed,I dont think you wanna give him any more of a reason for ripping your throat out.

Nightwing spit a little blood out to the side,before turning back to Croc.

"Hit me."

Croc,already angered by Nightwings wise cracks and mocking behavior,growled loudly.

Running towards Nightwing,Croc leaped into the air,determined to tackle him down.Nightwing,whos reflexes could outdo Batmans,Robins,and Catwomans.......Simply stepped to the side.

Crocs eyes widened as he flew,face first,into a steel pipe.Nightwing spun,again,and sent a hard.....and hurting...spin kick to his face,knocking him back.

Crocs jaw,nose,and forehead were all injured.This wasnt going on for much longer.

So,determined to end this,before his ribs caved in,Nightwing started pounding away at Croc,with his fists.

All of the punches hurt Nightwing's knuckles,but He wasnt focusing on the pain.

He was focusing on knocking all of Crocs teeth out......To show him what it would be like,to not be able to eat anyone else.

By the time Nightwing was finished,Crocs teeth,ribs,nose,skull,and even a few fingernails,were all broken.

A bit brutal....on Nightwings part....but Hes seen Bruce do worse things to The Joker.

Spitting on Croc,Nightwing wiped blood from his mouth,and walked away from the scene,leaving Croc for the police.

Its never been easy.

Even when he was Robin,Dick had always found crimefighting to be a real pain in the ass.

He wasnt giving up,though......Especially now,considering things were getting worse as time went on.

But...He was ready for it.

Every last bit of criminal scum in Bludhaven would have to answer to its protector.

Its Guardian.

Its Savior.

I get a page on my JL transmitter, must be more destruction. I'm still pooped from Mordru.....
Cool, its a message from Clark saying he wants the league over for a thanksgivng feast at the farm. Man I'm starving
I send a message back
"Do you think I'd pass some food up Clark? I'll be there"

"Time to get fat"


Gateway. Why does it always come back to Gateway?

It's been almost a year since Zoom destroyed it and I still can't get the image out of my head. The destruction. The dead bodies. The dead, young bodies. They haunt my dreams. Even here on Paradise Island. I still see the bodies.

I don't want to see the bodies anymore. I've got to do something about it. I'm not Princess Diana anymore. Adopted daughter to Queen Hippolyta. I am Wonder Woman. Hero of Man's World. I've proven myself dozens of times in the name of Justice and now... now I want something.

But what? Justice? I've danced around the issue, but what would be Justice? Tartarus for Zoom? Or dispatching him to his own specific after life. Which with him might just be oblivion.

No. Justice IS the answer. He must be tried for his crimes. He must stand before a tribunal. He must be judged. And judged he shall be.

But for now...

I will return to Man's World. I will resume my responsibilities in the Justice League. But time will present the opportunity and justice will be meted out. Zoom will face me again, and this time...

I will not fail.


"Wonder Woman here."

"Diana. This is Superman. I have and invitation for you."

"An invitation?"


:thing: :doom: :thing:
I am a demon in a church.

Normally, when you have a thought like this, you would expect said demon to be tearing the place apart, screaming in rage at--in his viewpoint--the false savior.

I'm not. I am just sitting in one of its seats. Thinking in isolation.

I have never been a religious man. I just couldn't stomech it after a few years. But if there's one good thing about these places...they're quiet.

"Excuse me?" Almost. I looked behind me and saw one of the priests standing next to me. He doesn't look too particulary mad, though, if not a little tired-looking. "How did you get in?"

"Locks were very easy to break through."

"Ah. Another one."

"Happens a lot?"

"Enough times to remember. Sometimes it's some satin worshippers who want to cause trouble, but most of the time it's just people who wanted someplace to think in. I take it you're the latter?"

"You can say that."

"Usually, when someone is in here, it's when they've lost everything. Same for you?"


I should have known something was strange when the security guards at Wayne Towers wouldn't let me in. Then I found a newspaper and figured out the whole bloody truth.

Wayne Enterprises is now owned by Lex Luthor.

The secretary of Lex Luthor in Lexcorp tower could barely keep me out. I would have broken her easily and gone into Lex's office. I was just about to when he damn near STRUTTED out and greeted us. The secretary was obviously releaved by this and immietely walked over to him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Luthor," she cried out, "I tried to stop him, but--"

"It's okay, I'll handle it," he...COOED? her, "Bruce! It's been a dog's age, what brings you here?"

"You took my company away from me."

"Oh, THAT. You're not mad about that, are you?"

"You took away the only thing that still lives from my father's legacy. You think I WOULDN'T be mad?" I notice that I said that my company was the ONLY thing that still lived, and not counted myself in it, a couple of hours afterward.

"Wait, you mean just the company?" Luthor cried out in a pampered gasp of surprise. "Oh, you're REALLY going to be mad at me now..."

"What are you talking about?"

"You see, I only mentioned the company in the press release," he handed me a copy of some sort of document, "but if you look in the contracts, I didn't just take your company...I took you. All your credit, your fortune, everything is now mine. When construction is finished, I will have another residence in Gotham in Wayne--soon to be Luthor--Manor."

Luthor's face...changed. He transformed from a pompous billionare to...a vicious monster. I know the man is nothing if not pure evil walking in the skin of a human being but...nothing like this. He walks over to me, like a lion stalking on his food.

"I now own everything you have. The cars, the houses, the very legacy that your parents created, your..." he was right next to me now, whispering in my ear, "...strange eveningwear. I told you that you would pay for what you did to me, now, tell me, how does it feel? How does it feel to lose everything...Bats?"

I noticed something strange in his eyes...a purple gleam in his eyes? That was the second thing I noticed, before his showing his...knowledge.

Actually, I'm glad that he's brought that in. Now, I can REALLY talk to him.

"I know the game you play, Lex. Like you said, I know EVERYTHING about you. I don't know how you are still on top after all these years, I'm still quite certain that you turned a trick for the President to get him to forgive your crimes, but it doesn't matter now. What does matter, is that I will put you down. I am going to expose every lie and every innocent life you've destroyed in the process. Then, I'll be there to pick up the peices.

"Justice will be served, Luthor. I will make it my solumn vow. Think about that, and try to sleep tonight." I turn away from his close proximety. No one in the room heard our...other conversation.

"You're not going to get away with this," I mutter in false pity and rage...well, the pity is false...but the rage was impossibly real.


"Yes, you can say that."

The priest moved around me to sit down next to me.

"You can talk to me, if you want. Everyone's the child of God, and this, in a way, makes it your home."



I wonder how shocked Jim Gordon was when she looked through the peep-hole of her apartment, and saw me, of all people. I was kind-of shocked, myself.

After my talk with Luthor, I waited until nightfall to break back into my former penthouse and grabbed the essential gear.

Bruce Wayne, one of the richest men in the world, looked like a normal schmo in jeans, sweater, and a duffel bag.

He opened the door to his house and I quickly went inside. To the normal bypasser, there is no obvious connection with Jim Gordon and Bruce Wayne, besides the usual charity events. We both know otherwise. Well...almost.

"Not that it's good to see you, Bruce, but...what are you doing here?"

"I...I need a place to stay."

His slack jaw told the story of his shock. I continued.

"As you probably have heard, Lex Luthor took over Wayne Enterprises. What wasn't told, was that he took EVERYTHING. My fortune, all of it. Dick's too far away from Gotham, and Selina...would be complecated. Since being near the vicinity of Barbara would help me..."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" He's trying. He's trying real hard to act like he doesn't understand.

"Jim, you can stop now. I've known that you've known for years. You didn't want to impede on my trust by not telling me, I respect that, but now's not the time." I can almost hear the weight lifting from his shoulders apon hearing that.

"...Alright. You can stay here as long as you like."

"Thank you, Jim."

"Not a problem, there's a spare bed upstairs, you can set up there."

He starts walking up the stairs. I follow.

I knew I could trust him.


"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass. I should go now." I curtly reply and stood up. I was half-way down the isle when the priest called out.

"You don't have to keep yourself bottled up like this, son." I stopped my walk for a moment. "If you need to let it out, you can always come here. I won't judge you, and neither would...well, you know who."

"I...I'll think about it." I walked out of the church and shot a line, propelling myself into the sky.

I might, but not tonight.


I crawled out the window and into the guestquarters. While the people inside it are family to me, I can't think of it as a home. I pushed the cowl off and removed my gloves.

I was surprised of the amount of craft materials Jim had here. It helped a lot with the creation of my new suit. It's more padded with a light-weight kevlar plate coated in a nomex weave. The body was covered in a more leathery material, to create a more organic feel--an idea from Jim. The cowl is more helmet-like and probably is the most plated in kevlar. It lessens my manuverability a bit, but I can take slugs a lot better now.

It was around that time when I heard something ring from my comm.

"Batman? It's Superman, you there?"


"Good. Considering the day coming up, I'm inviting you and the other JL'ers to a Thanksgiving dinner at my parent's house. Now, I know you'll say no, but consider that I have flight and invulnerablity. I will carry you kicking and screaming if nessesary."

"Don't try to make threats, Clark, you suck at them," I muttered under my breath. "Alright, if you insist."

"Great! Will you bring someone with you?" I think of Jim and Barbara for a moment...

It had been a few months since Bart's death and the return of almost everyone that had been killed by the Dark Alliance had come back. Except for Bart. Kara's grieving stage was over, but she was still confused. Where is he? What's keeping him from coming back?

Pulling a double life as both a full time college student at Stanford and the new leader of the Teen Titans was starting to take its toll on her, and she was glad to have this break from school for the Thanksgiving holiday. She was even more grateful that her 'Aunt' and 'Uncle' were letting her stay at the farm for the week. Even so, the lack of privacy was starting to irritate her: Kon doesn't even think about why a door may be locked, he just uses his TK and busts in no matter what. Pa Kent had scolded him several times about having to replace locks already.

Laying on her bed listening to Van Halen and reading one of her text books: Criminal Psychology and Forensic Technology by Grover Maurice Godwin, she didn't even notice when he did it again.

Damn, she's absorbed... "KARA! Snap out of it!"

Huh wha?! God damn it, he did it again! That's the third time today. "KON! Why can't you just knock? A girl needs a little privacy!" She slapped him across the face hard enough for him, and the house for that matter, to feel it.

Rubbing the red handmark on his cheek, Connor sat on the bed looking somewhat confused. "Oww, that hurt! While I was just wondering if you wanted to hit up Big Boy with me and Cas for lunch? I need to get out of Smallville for a couple hours, and figured you could use a break from Dullville too. That and if Diana shows up inexplicably like she always does for some reason it wouldn't look as bad."

"I don't know Kon, I've got alot to read. Ah, why not? Sure, race you to Metropolis?"

OOC: Until its ironed out I stuck with the Nov. thing, because it helped in my post, but if need be I'll edit it later.
Stealing is wrong. And so is keeping what you take. So, I did the right thing, and gave the guns back. I had to blame it on "some two-bit punk pretending to be Mirror Master," but it turned out alright. I retired to my house, and tried to catch up on my reading, when all of a sudden, I heard a tapping upon my chamber door. Well, the front door. When I opened the door, nobody was there. But they left a letter.

"To Doctor Mid-Nite,

Oh, don't be so surprised. It's not really that hard to find out secret identities; just need to do some expert sleuthing and bust a few choice heads. But, we digress. We extend to you an invitation, to the pants party. Ha, we kid, we kid. Oh, Anchorman, how you make us laugh.
We would like for you to join our organization. It's basically hard detective work and two-fisted adventres, laden with danger and potential romance at nearly every step. There is an address on the back of this letter. Go to it tomorrow at Three O'Clock in the afternoon. Be very punctual.

Sincerely, That's for us to know and you to find out."

"Hmm....Wow, these guys like Anchorman, I'm in!" I said, retaining all the world's sarcasm. Better check these nuts out anyway; don't need my identity in the wrong hands. No, that'd be terrible.

The next day, I'm there. An apartment building on Twelfth Street. Luckily, They gave me the apartment number. Twelve. I go in, and am shocked at what I see: Three guys wearing fedoras and domino masks and business suits, in a dimly-lit, beat up apartment, playing poker. The air is dense with smoke. And I can smell alcohol on at least one of them.

"Ah. You're here. And not a second too late." spoke one

"What are you talking about, he's thirteen seconds late!" chimed in the one next to him, who I immediately recognized as some successor to Brian O'Brien, the Clock. Oh, Lord, what have I gotten myself into?

"Let's not start arguing again, fellas, we just started playing..."

"Can someone please tell me what the Hell I'm doing here?"

"Damn. Calm down, pal. But I'm sure we're overdue for some introductions. We're Opal City's greatest detectives. I'm....Midnight. I know this may cause some problems, so just call me Jack."

"You're telling me your name?"

"I didn't say it was. You said that, not me. Anyway, as you may have figured, this gentleman next to me..."

"The Clock, yes, I know."

"An' the other guy won't tell me nuthin'. But he'll answer to 'The Spirit.'"

"Well, that's all well and good, pal, but what in God's name did you ask me to come here for?"

"All in good time."

OOC: Basically, I'm keeping these characters around to balance out Mid-Nite's own cold, analytical personality. And, to bring the Noir. I want my Noir, Dammit! How's this so far?

The breeze blew gently through the small field he was sitting in with his family. Slade Wilson sat on a blanket with Addie, his wife, and their kids Joe and Grant playing not far away. He held Addie in his arms and looked at her, both eyes connecting with hers, he was the happiest he had ever been in his life.

Then he saw it.

His other half was standing at the other end of the field, head down, patiently waiting for Slade to react.

Slade jumped up with terror, he knew this day was coming, but he wanted so badly to never retain to that side of his life. He pushed his family behind him and slowly approached Deathstroke, heeding caution every step of the way. He got within striking distance of the thing he hated most in his life. It had taken everything from him, and he wouldn’t let it take this.

He ran at him throwing a right hook to the Terminator, who still stared at the ground below him. Right when he should have connected, Deathstroke disappeared. Slade turned back to his family as they began to fade out of existence.

“Addie! NO!”

But there was nothing he could do about it. Slade stopped and fell to his knees, coming to the realization he was alone in his penthouse. Deathstroke had cost him everything he had ever loved, he had forever become the Terminator.


Slade rose up from the ground, picking up his lance and checking his back for his sword. He was still delusional from his hallucination. He was in his penthouse apartment, in the middle of the living room. Slade had given up on any grasp he still felt to humanity. He no longer concerned himself with emotions. He walked to his computer and signed online.

“This ought to be fun.”

He was flat broke. There would be no way to take down those responsible for the death of his daughter without being able to finance it. Slade would need to make some money and fast, that meant taking contracts from people he deemed, “uneasy,” in order to make some scratch.
There's absolutely nothing like it.

I'm high up above the United States, so high that I can see both of my hometowns at the same time. The air is thin up here, cold too. I don't feel it though. Sometimes, when I'm up here, I feel so detached from this world; this Earth. I wonder what Krypton was truly like if it were still around. How different would my life had been if I was raised there? I'll never know, yet it doesn't depress me. I may be the last son of Krypton, but I far from alone.

Kara is Krypton's last daughter, and my only true blood relative. Krypto, my loyal canine companion, is also from Krypton, but not the one I'm from. (Long story.) But he's still a part of the home I'll never remember.


I am home. Relatively speaking, of course. Yet, despite my being hundreds of miles above the farmhouse where I was raised, I am still there in my heart. I love this time of year in Kansas, here you can really appreciate Thanksgiving. Not like in Metropolis, where it seems Christmas started just after Halloween.

I begin to drop altitude, moving towards the ground at a steady rate. I look out over the snow covered fields surrounding my childhood home, and I can imagine what it would have been like those two hundred odd years ago for the settlers. I'm intelligent enough to know that the first Thanksgiving wasn't the way we're told it was as children, but somewhere deep in my heart, I'll still cherish the thought of the compassionate natives taking in the foreign settlers as if they were one people. That always spoke to me on a deep level.

I speed up, moving faster than most people can see, so as not to reveal my presence to any curious sky-watcher. I land close to the barn and race inside. A minute later, I'm walking out, no longer dressed as Superman, Last Son of Krypton; but as myself, Clark Kent, native son of Kansas. I'm home.
Keystone City
Abandoned Warehouse...It's always an abandoned warehouse. You'd think with the amount of criminal activity that goes on over there, the cops would at least look into it but of course they fail to even see that there is a pattern. I imagine seeing can become pretty difficult with donut powder in your eyes.
Keystone City is as famous for their colorful villains as they are for their dangerously handsome, crimson-clad hero. Who are we kidding. We walked right off of a saturday morning cartoon. But every now and then...

Mafioso. Real buncha nice folks these guys, all here doing whatever it is men of their...caliber do on wednesday nights like this. Nice little chairs setup around their big table. Like thanksgiving with guns, cheap suits, and rose oil...Check this guy out for example. Alfonso DiMarco. Oily lookin prick. Slicked back hair, pick in his mouth, goattee on his chin with a stache thin as all hell. Money laundering, drug dealing, grand larceny, petty larceny, you name it, this guy has done it. Normally he'd be untouchable. Today he was the first to be smacked in the face with a chair thrown at 400 miles per hour as his friends scramble for their guns. Prooobably shouldn't have sat there smiling at em like a jackass in a red leotard...Oh wait.

As of late I've had a little power boost that makes handling these guys as easy taking a leak...but I think I'll have fun with this one. I'm a red blur as I appear in front of each, one by one backhanding, elbowing, uppercutting. I slow down so they can see me land each blow. Knowing that they're next and that there's nothing they could do about it.
A few were smart and just made a run for it...Like that helps. These two guys are just bookin it to the back door so I put my foot in the way of the first one and he lands chin first into the concrete while his friend raises his gun at me, still trying to make it to the door mind you. So I just step to a side, grab his wrist, and in one spin, elbow him in the face and to the back of the head, face first into the wall. I hear the taps of this other guy's feet running towards me. Curly long hair, goattee, elvis sideburns, beer gut, light blue polyester suit, guy's a walking time capsule. Could you blame me for at least smiling at the situation?

So this guy's chargin at me, brows all crooked, snarl on his face, and he starts firing at me. So I run behind a pillar and before he could even register it I'm in front of the one next to him and clock him with one punch to the jaw. I stand there admiring my work, one hand at my waist, the other rubbing my chin, smirk on face when I hear the joyfull pitter-patter of little feet. This guy's like what, 5 feet tall? Chubby, balding little guy wearing what is obviously a toupee since it doesn't even match his sideburns, wobbling around side to side, wheezing so hard he could wake the dead and trying oh so hard with every ounce of strength in his body to reach that door.
I casually walk into a path right behind him. Rub my nose with my thumb and get on one knee with my fingers on the floor.

"Oooon your mark!"

I talk loudly to get a little scare out of him and it worked. Look at him go the little fellah. He's gunnin it.


I rise up, fingers still on the floor.
"Get set!"




I'm a red streak as I shoulder charge him straight through the door sending him flying, landing stomach first and rolling into the clear street. Toupee flopped over. I take the time to enjoy the night air. That cool november air. Crecent moon in the clear sky. I stretch and yawn as I come to a stop and this guy's still, but groaning, body and throw him a smirk.

":sighs:Sorry but...not in my city bud...Not in my city."

I look to my right and see the old red n blue lights as the sirens grow louder. I get on one knee and lean over to him.

"Hey guy...If you want to avoid anymore of these little workout sessions, although it'd probably do you alot of good :pats stomach:...I suggest you and your friends get packin, kay?"


"Thaaat's what I like to hear...Ooh. Twinky."

I take the squished twinky from his shirt pocket as I get up to unwrap it. I take a bite just as the police cars come to a holt and I'm gone baby.
Everyone in this city has a story. Even the cancer that is rotting it from the inside out. James Selig was born ninteen years ago in the jewish buisness district. His family were prominents buisnessmen. They eventually sold their company and invested totally in stocks. They were major stockholders in several succesful internet shipping companies. And then the bubble burst, and they were left on the street. Poverty was unacceptable for the young Mr. Selig, and thus he turned to crime. At first it was petty theft.

Then armed robery.

Then selling his kid sister for sex.

Then drugs.

He currently resides in one of the few habitable apartments in the poor side of town with his trophy girlfriend (who is most likely one of his ****es who he keeps for himself).

A day in the life of James Selig:

Three teenagers come downtown looking for a good high. They meet with the good Mr. Selig and are escorted into his basement where they are sold three bags of chrystal meth, one hundred dollars each. This is like any other buisness day for Mr. Selig. Except for one thing. I'm there. With a camera.


Mr. Selig is sitting down for a Lavish Thanknsgiving feast, filled with more food than any five people could eat in a month.

I make my move.

I cut the power to his building. Everything goes dark. I then make my way around to his front window and make my entrance. I grab him by the colar and bring him close to my face. My cold, expresionless, inhuman face.

"You have been a very bad boy Mr. Selig. You thought yourself untouchable. Invincible. And so you did as you pleased. But you forgot one thing: All bad boys get their cumupance in the end."

I apply pressure to the nerve cluster on his neck and he passes out. I turn twords is ****e and tip my hat.


She runs screaming out the door. I've always had that effect on women.

Twenty minutes later, James Selig is found unconsious on his living room floor, his house empty of almost all possesions. That wouldn't look bad for Mr. Selig. If he hadn't also been found with twenty kilos of chrystal meth, fifteen kilos of cocaine, and the memory card of a digital camera that depicts Mr. Selig selling drugs to minors.

Tonight, a drug lord is in jail, a pawn shop has new, expensive inventory, and an orphanige has found itself with one million dollars and enough food to last a month.

But there's no time for me to celebrate.

There's work to be done.

There are questions that need answers.

Two Face had Gotham in his finger tips just a few weeks and it would be his ALL his, but there was one thing that was stopping him from achieving justice his old friend who became a creature of the night, Bruce Wayne aka the Batman. Harvey was always divided and so was the city good and evil, HIS city not the bat´s not gordan´s not even the mayor´s HIS. But the only way was to hurt the Bat,

“But how?” Harvey said

“We can’t fight him, all the goons will be beaten in a second.”

“Oh Harvey Harvey, ya never knew how to do something simple could ya?”

“What do you want?”

“Harvey what does Bruce love the most besides his version of Justice?”

“The people around him.”


“But we can’t their innocent NO I will not do it!”

“The innocent must die for Justice!”

Harvey picked up a phone

“Hello Edward”
IC: Barb Gordon

A car honks down below the street somewhere and my eyes open up. Morning light streams in through the window and spreads golden patterns upon the white blankness of the ceiling. I'm in my bed.At dad's place. In the same room inside which I had lived until the day Joker's bullet ripped through my spine.

I turn my head to the side. The digital clock sitting on my bedside table displays the time. 8:10 am. I stare at it while my mind reels backwards trying to grasp the fading memory of the dream I was having. No...not a dream. A nightmare.

Yawning out the sleep left in me, I sit up. The Joker. It had been about the Joker. I find myself somewhat glad that I don't remember the particulars of it.I have so many nightmares relating to him these days that it is impossible to separate the recent from the previous ones. But the only face more prominent than the Joker's in my dreams for the past few months is Dinah's.

She was laughing at me tonight. Dressed in a very large wedding gown and surveying herself.She wanted me to be her bridesmaid. Said she'd be mine if I ever did work up the corage to ask Dick. But then Joker had appeared out of nowhere and shot her. In the stomach. The whiteness of her dress was marred with red.Dark, glistening, blood red. I was crying. And the Joker was laughing.

It is with a heavy heart that I slip off the covers and throw my legs to the side. The carpetted floor is threadbare beneath my feet and I sit there for a moment or so.Rub my eyes and shake my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts.The room around me still looked like it did during my high school and college days. Dominantly, pink and white. And the booklets that came with all those high-tech computers Wayne Tech had send me at the advent of my Batgirl escapades are still strewn under the bed.

Sitting here in the midst of all this its hard to really feel that anything's changed. That I'd ever really left all of this behind and moved to the Clock Tower. I sigh at the thought. The building was the only aspect of previous life that I did not miss. SO many things were assosiated with it...things that knaw at the edges of my being... And it being blown up certainly did help at least in my thinking that I will move on...

I stand up, stretch out my arms way above my head and walk towards the door. Dad must be already at the station and Bruce...I still can't believe that Bruce Wayne resides with us. The idea is pretty hard to grasp.And truthfully, so is adjusting to life with a vigilante living in my house. Well, life as a vigilante I can somewhat understand,though even that aspect of Bruce's life is hard fo rme to relate to.Regardless of the fact that I myself have actively indulged in vigilantism under his supervison for the better part of my life. And it is not as if I don't have the experience of living with a vigilante either. But I guess it all comes down to the fact that Dick is inherently different from Bruce. He had always been a master at distancing Dick Grayson, from Nightwing. But Bruce...he is Batman. So living with Bruce, with or without the mask, is living with Batman.

My fingers wrap around the cool metal of the door knob and I can't help but marvel at the fact that I've come so far without the assistance of the chair. I, like every other person, had always taken walking for granted before I was wheelbound. I know better.

Dad has had a visibly hard time adjusting to me getting on my feet again.Looking at me as though I'll fall down any second, reprimanding me for holding up something as small as a frying pan when standing up. But the act came surprisingly naturally to me and I accepted it, just as I'd had when my 2 year old self had stood up for the first time ever. I made sure that I didn't bring the wheelchair along with me to dad's place when I moved in after the Clock Tower was destroyed....just the presence of the thing in this house would be depressing. I lived in this house when I was whole, complete and as able bodied as everyone else.I didn't realize then...maybe I did it subconsciously so...but the wheelchair bound Barbara Gordon belonged at the Clock Tower.Locked away high above the city so nobody could hurt her further. Now...I know.Regardless of the fact that the truth of it wasn't realized by me at the moment;It was along with the end of the Clock Tower that the wheel chair bound part of me met her end.
I am sick of everything!

I am sick of bringing chaos. I am sick of bringing order. I am especially sick of defeat!
To put it bluntly, as the humans would say...

I am pissed!

I had to leave that troublesome world called Earth because I could not stand to be near that pitiful species called human anymore. That planet is far more trouble than it is worth, and I am better off leaving it behind.

But I am still pissed!

Which is why I have stopped at this no-name, nothing of a planet to take out my frustrations. It is also why fifty of this planet's so-called security force lie scattered around my feet in various displays of death. And why I am still attacking anyone getting near me as I make my way through the first of this world's cities in which I arrived.

More security personnel attack, and I laugh angrily at their excuse for force. And as good as it feels to see them fall to my attacks, to hear people scream as they run from the yellow demons and monsters I conjure, my anger will not subside because this...this not as satisfying as I had hoped. But, since there is no Corps. to stop me, my rage continues unchecked.

A yellow blast lashes out from my ring burning a hole through one man's chest as a construct of an metal fist knocks down the one trying to sneak up behind me down. Pitiful tactics for a pitiful world.

"W-why are you d-doing this?" I hear a small voice say. I turn. It is the security person I had just knocked down to the ground. My ring and eyes flair in anger. I snatch him up by the front of his uniform with both my hands, and raise his eyes to meet mine.

Through gritted teeth I reply,
"What. Did. You. Just. Say. To. ME?!? What did you dare say to...SINESTRO!"
IC: Prometheus

My first target resides in Hub city. A hell hole of a town with no redeeming qualites. My kind of city. But it's constantly attacked by it's " protecter" The Question. I've been gathering information on him for the past couple of days and I know his strenghs and weaknesses. He is an excellent detective but that really all he is. He's got some hand to hand fighting skills but they pale in comparison to mine. But he does have a way to contact the justice league so the is my first priority is to remove that contact. I've been scoping out his headquarters for the day and it's almost time to make my move.
I sit in my apartment and go over the hundreds of pages of newspapers strewn across the floor. In the corner an old record player plays Don Mclean's "Stary stary night". The walls are covered with newspaper clipings, magazine articles, scientific documents, and declasified government information. I admit. I'm obsessed.

It's an obsession for justice.

For truth.

For answers.

My apartment is a cold, dark, lonely place. I spend almost all of my non working houres here. I've spoken Tot about five times in the last month. Each time he's said I'm becoming more and more isolated.

He's right.

I'm constantly cooped up in this apartment. I almost never go out. Tot and Izzy are the only two friends I have in the whole city.

And then there's my love life.




Every one of my relationships have failed. Either through my stubornness, ignorance, or just being to shy to ask a girl out, I have alienated every woman I've ever cared about.

I grab my working clothes and put on my mask. I might as well go on "patrol".


Six muggings. Four home invasions. Three armed roberies. And just in under an houre. I don't know if that says something good about me or bad about the city. Probably both.

I stroll through the slums of Hub City like a man with no real destination. Only a journey.

Now, most people would say that walking through this part of town at night is suicidal.

Most people would be right.

But I'm depressed.

And when I'm depressed I get angry.

And when I get angry I like to hit things. Preferably stupid, immoral people who more than deserve it. This is a good place to do just that.
Sick, always sick of this world. And I was sick from my venom. But that didn't matter now. I needed a employer. Someone who would help me take down the Bat. But nobody hates the Batman as much as me except.... I look at the T.V. and see the one and only Joker, but he is to crazy to help me so I guess this time I work alone. I look next store and to my suprise I see a gang meeting. "Nevermind it looks like I do have some help," I say softly to myself. I walk in to see a little man holding a doll.

"Who the heck are you little man," I said.

"I'm Scareface you freaking idiot," the dummy said.

"I'm sorry but you have been relived of your duties of controling these men," I say mad-like.

"Oh yeah what are you gonna do about it big boy, I got 25 men working for me and what are you gonna down beat them all up ya' maniac," Scarface says.

"Thats it no more talking," I say.

I jump and turn on my venom at this point the men in the room see that I am the infamous Bane. They all run to the backroom. I jump right in front of the little man.

"You know what Bane this could be the begining of a beautiful relationship," Scarface says.

"No it's not," I say laughing.

I crush the dummy and threw him out the window. And now
The Ventriloquist. I took him in my hands and decide not to kill him but to throw him out the window. But I think then to go out the window and crush his skull. And thats what I did. Now I have 25 men working for me, Batman is as good as BROKEN!!!!
IC: Prometheus

I've been tailing the Question for about an hour now. He's beating three drug dealers and a robber in that time. If I was on his side I'd say that he has be doing a pretty good job today.

But now it's time for me to make my presence known.

"Hey" I say quitely from the shadows as he watched the street below. He turn and tried to hit me but I just grabbed his hand.

"Don't worry I don't want to fight you, yet. I just want to ask you a question. Why do you protect these maggots, these idiotic and preverted masses? Why have you sacrificed a normal life, your feelings and emotions, for people who will never give a damn about what you do? Why do you throw it all away just to do something that tears you away from the women you love and people you care for? Why?"

His answer will decide his fate.

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