Screen Name: MaskedManJRK
Character you would like to play: BATMAN.
Powers: The Dark Knight has no superpowers, only years of training and study in martial arts, criminology, chemistry, and many others.
Group your character is aligned with (if applicable): Leader of The Outsiders, part-time Justice League member.
Three reasons why you have chosen that character:
1) I've been a humongous fan of the character for all of my life.
2) I've been writing the character for...2 years maybe...in this RPG. I think I've gotten pretty good at it.
3) ...Because he's the GODDAMN BATMAN! What else reasons do you need?
Write two complete sentences using proper English grammar explaining what you plan to do with the character you've chosen (i.e. What are your goals? Will you be doing anything different with the character than is usually seen?): First off, I want to get back on my feet when it comes to regularly writing Batman as the badass motherf**ker we all know and love. Secondly, I plan to try and bring back more classic elements of the character while progressing him further in what I would call a "saga," if it didn't make me look like a prick.
How many times do you intend on posting a DAY IN the RPG: Whew...this is a toughie... Seriously, I've been bad with this recently, but I assure that, depending on other characters and such, I will make sure to post regularly...plus I got at least Q and Twy ready to slap me up-side the head and force my fingers on the keyboard if nessesary.
Color and font you plan on using for your characters speech (Might not be applicable but it makes the roster pretty): Franklin Gothic Medium for Bruce Wayne, bolded for Batman.
Do you have an Instant Messenger? Which one, and what is your screen name? AIM--DarkKnightJRK
How did you find out about this game, Recruitment thread/word of post/seeing the RPG OOC/IC thread? I went across this a while back, decided to join, and that's all she wrote.
Please provide a small sample post with original content in the style that you plan to write your character in:
NOTE: This is actually the first draft (and by first draft, I mean I just put it to paper) of an idea I had to write a Batman novella on. The title is Vengence is Mine. Let me know what you guys think!:
Gotham City. First called the City of Tomorrow, now known as the City of Hell. Nowadays, the people that live here are either forced by poverty, apathetic by wealth, or just plain suicidal. It isn't like New York City, where you could fall and possibly rise again, or even Hollywood, where you fail upwards.
In Gotham City, when you fall, you fall hard. I've known her my whole life, but if you find yourself under her heel, she will rip you apart--either by the lost, desperate criminals, or by the impossibly insane genocidalists that often congregate it. But, with the latter, it's undecided whether they're here because of Gotham...or me.
I am known by many names. I am known as the name I was born with, Bruce Wayne, son of Thomas and Martha Wayne, considered Gotham's royal family until their ultimely death at the hands of lone mugger. When I was in school, I was known as the "rich kid." When I was travelling around Europe, Asia, and the Middle East, I had the title of "apprentice" from many masters.
Now, to Gotham City and the people that live within her, I am known as The Batman.
I've also been called The Dark Knight, The Caped Crusader, The World's Greatest Detective, and "that-one-gargoyle-that-just-moved-from-that-building-to-that-building." For almost four years, I have stalked the rooftops and alleyways, finding crime and bringing the criminals to justice, often using my armored costume, many self-made tools and weapons.
I realize now that I'm not that quite sane because of it.
I had just been in at a Wayne Foundation fundraiser, masquerading as the "drunken billionare" Bruce Wayne. Outside, I was flirting with a Russian model and a huge blockbuster actress--at the same time--while inside, I was bored and annoyed as all hell. Both of the women were as though all the plastic in them has replaced their brains, and the rest were the second group of people that I mentioned that stay in this city. Finally, I just got tired of it and made a discreet exit. I left the building and went back to my limo, where Alfred sat. I got the briefcase that held my costume, put it on, and left, running through the rooftops.
When you run the rooftops, adredeline almost pumps away the majority of the senses. Your vision is a blur with the exception of gray walls and bright yellow air. Your hearing is engulfed by the sound of wind and subtle honks of horns, whirring blimps and general commotion. Your smell is left to mostly fumes, but it doesn't really matter; and taste doesn't matter much unless you're eating.
But TOUCH. Feeling the wind pushing against you, trying to push you away, your heart pumping hard in your chest, your muscles tightinging and relaxing, propelling yourself to a near-flight...if there is something about my mission that I truely and unconditionally enjoy, it's this.
Even so, I couldn't help but see the limp body of a girl in the dark alley.
I stopped, skidding only a little, and leaped down to the ground, using the fire escape to keep myself from not breaking my legs, and landed a few feet away from the body. Thankfully, I saw her chest rise and fall, meaning she's alive. I was relieved...until I saw blood coming from a private place, and that relief left as fast as it came.
I look her over further, checking her injuries. Her wrist is broken, her face bashed in, a dislocated shoulder, a ripped blouse with what looks like claw marks all around her chest and stomach, her clothing was ripped apart, leaving everything in view, and her left leg was broken. The strange part was...almost none of it looked like it was caused before the actual rape, but only afterwards.
This woman was not only raped--but the man who did it went to great lengths to humiliate and degrade her.
It was odd...I can't reconize her face--not even her own family would be able to reconize her--but she looks so familiar...it's her eyes, I think. One blue, and the other grey--they would have been unique and beautiful if they weren't dull and empty, void of an innocence (true innocence--I would be suprised if she was a day over 15) that can never be replaced. I can't say I sympathise with her completely, but I know what if feels like to have life railroad you with a brutalizing dose of reality.
I looked around and saw something near the wall that didn't fit in with the garbage and rats. I walked over and picked it up. It was a gold locket, hanging around a golden chain. It looks as though it was ripped from her neck and tossed away. I opened it...and I realized where I reconized her.
The picture was from Gotham Zoo, before it was closed down and in ruins. She was in the middle with two other men. She looked younger, around 13, but still reconizable, with an older man in his mid-40's, with gray hair on his temples, the other man a bit younger, well-built...it was me.
I reconized her. Her name is Sandra Littleton. I'm her godfather.
is for sure.)
