Ultimate One Universe - Genesis: Sign-Up/OOC Thread
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SynTheMerc
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Character Name: Barbara Gordon; [blackout]Moon Stone[/blackout]
Alignment (Hero, Villain, Walking the Line): Hero
Character Speech Color and Font: Purple Century Gothic
Powers and Abilities: Deductive genius, technological prowess, police combat training, gymnast.
Kree Gravity Gem: Levitation, Super human reflexes and speed, intangibility, flight.
(It should be noted I will be depowering the Gem a bit from how I've seen it in the Comics).
Character Origin/Backstory: (A lot of this can be malleable where needed to fit Carnage's Batman plot.)
GCPD On File Report: BM139
Individual: Gordon, Barbara
Rank: Detective
Marital Status: Single
Family: Gordon, Barbara Eileen - Mother. (Deceased)
Gordon, James - Father
Dossier: (Abridged for Departmental usage only)
Barbara Gordon is the 22 year old daughter of Jim Gordon. A gymnastic star in high school, Barbara showed promise for a professional career but instead opted for an occupation she could be proud of: a police officer.
Against her father's wishes, Barbara joined the Gotham Police Academy and graduated with honors at age 19. Despite his pride in his daughter, James Gordon couldn't bare to see his only daughter in the line of fire every night. He pulled strings within the department and had her application for the GCPD rejected. Angry and betrayed, Barbara moved to New York and was accepted by the NYPD.
Barbara worked as a beat cop for a few months before her superior saw her advanced skills in police work and decided to put them to good use. One of her superiors, Jean DeWolfe, took notice of the young girl's prowess and advanced deductive skill. Jean took it upon herself to mentor Barbara; a mutually beneficial relationship where Barbara took Jean on as a surrogate mother figure - a foil worthy to rival her own father. After a year, she was able to pull the right strings within the department to get Barbara promoted to junior detective under her supervision and tutelage. At age 20 Barbara became the youngest detective in the Special Crimes unit.
The duo worked efficiently for 6 months; bringing down some of the cities most notorious criminals. Barbara gained notoriety, but also the contempt of her fellow officers for her success, causing shaky relations with her co workers.
Tracking a black market ring run by the Kingpin, the duo investigated recent sales in the criminal underground of specialized weaponry. The trail led the duo to Barbara's hometown of Gotham.
Their investigation led them to the harbor where a ship carrying a deadly weapon known as "The Gem" was expected to arrive and be sold to a cryptic masked figure known as Red X. As Sergeant DeWolfe and Detective Gordon watched the cargo be unloaded, DeWolfe called for back up from the GCPD. Red X shortly arrived and presented his payment for the mystical Gem. But the nefarious criminal had other plans as he turned on his dealers; paying off the local security to act as his own mercenaries, Red X attempted to have the betrayal look like the harbor security discovered the criminal dealers - inevitably opening fire and killing them. Unfortunately, the plan went awry as DeWolfe and Gordon entered the fray to quell the bloodshed.
Red X attempted to use the Gem, but unaware of it's power, a simple night's work quickly turned to tragedy. Unable to be controlled, The Gem's powers erupted, killing many and destroying the docks.
When the GCPD arrived, they found a wounded Barbara Gordon lying next to her fallen partner, mentor, and friend - Sergeant DeWolfe. Further investigation found both Red X and "the Gem" MIA.
Barbara was taken to the hospital for severe spinal trauma. The injury left doctors pessimistic about her chances for a full recovery - hypothesizing permanent paralysis.
A week later, a confused and weary Barbara Gordon awoke to her hospital bed. The doctors informed her of her condition as well as the fate of her partner. The following week, a wheel chair bound Detective Gordon shared her 21st birthday at the funeral of Jean DeWolfe.
Gordon took 6 months personal leave from the force for her recovery. No information exists as to her whereabouts, residence, or medical treatment during this time.
After her 6 months, Barbara returned to the NYPD - her body surprisingly healed. The department ordered a mandatory counselling therapy treatment with the on staff Psychiatrist, Dr. Karla Sofen, to evaluate her current psychological state. Dr. Sofen determined Gordon as fit for duty, and the force offered her position back on the Special Crimes unit.
Facing contempt from her fellow officers, and without the support of her superior and partner to protect her from corruption and inter department bias, Gordon requested an immediate transfer to Bludhaven PD - threatening a lawsuit on the grounds of a hostile work environment and gender discrimination. With an arduous negotiation and the aid of attorney Matt Murdock, the department accepted her transfer under the agreement that she not investigate the death of her mentor and she continuing her counselling with Dr. Sofen. Detective Gordon agreed and immediately moved to the small Gotham suburb.
Six months has passed since that day. Detective Gordon serves the citizens of Bludhaven. She has declined the option to have a partner. Recently, the Bludhaven police department has become wary of Gordon's motives and psychological profile, despite her records and performance. This paranoia has led management to require Dr. Sofen's presence for Detective Gordon's on duty activities to monitor her actions and demeanor.
While the Red X investigation has gone to a cold case file with no leads or witnesses to look into, this report also finds it relevant to mention that the police departments of Gotham, Bludhaven, and New York have responded to many disturbance calls about strange lights in the sky as well as reports of a feminine ghostly figure disrupting civilian life. Officers Valdez of the NYPD and Detectives Harvey Bullock and Renee Montoya have also gone on record as confronting a strange astral presence interfering with police work on multiple occasions. All three have declined to disclose any information.
Warrants were obtained for use of government satellites in order to monitor the airspace between the cities. A strange pattern has been observed by a small UFO flying within a triangulated area between Gotham, Bludhaven, and New York.
No further information is available at this time.
Report Compiled by: Internal Affairs Inspector William Finger
What Makes This Version "Ultimate": / Why do you want to play this character?
Babs is a 22 year old detective on the Bludhaven PD. She has a bullet lodged in her spine, making her a paraplegic. However, during the incident at the docks, the shrouded mystical weapon known as "The Gem" was fused to the shrapnel in her spine. The Gem, an alien (Kree) Gravity stone, grants her a vast number of superhuman abilities; including restoring the use of her legs. Her physical/medical paraplegic status is not known by anyone - nor is The Gem's whereabouts.
What I wanted to do with this was 1) Make this a truly ultimate one universe character by encompassing ideas from both universes while still adding a bit of my own flare. 2) Get back to writing a hero I love, but with an added twist.
I've seriously missed the RPGs, working with all you guys, reading what I think are stories better than some current comics, and writing Barbara above all. Seriously. In my own personal writing, I wrote a song with lyrics that basically acted as my way of saying goodbye to my favorite RPG character - Ms. Gordon. Hopefully, that goodbye was premature - if you fine gentlemen will permit me.
3) There's 3-4 canon Batgirls to pick from. Before New 52, Barbara matured and became her own entity separate from Batgirl. I don't know what time holds for this Barbara - I left a lot of wiggle room for changes in the future; however, for now, Barbara is going to develop as her own character that stays faithful to all of her past incarnations.
4) The Gem's Kree ownership identity won't be elaborated on unless needed. I wanted to make this Gem akin to Golden Age Alan Scott with his Power Ring. Mystical. I'm also powering it down a bit (for now anyway) so I can write stories without Babs as an uber god.
5) IDK if any of you ever knew, but I majored in Law Justice for awhile. It was a personal interest I kept with me. I'm currently ending my undergrad with a minor in Law Justice. Taking these courses again has made me want to write police procedural dramas - especially with my (hopefully) more mature prose. I also enjoyed Moonstone in Thunderbolts so I wanted to do some justice there.
Alignment (Hero, Villain, Walking the Line): Hero
Character Speech Color and Font: Purple Century Gothic
Powers and Abilities: Deductive genius, technological prowess, police combat training, gymnast.
Kree Gravity Gem: Levitation, Super human reflexes and speed, intangibility, flight.
(It should be noted I will be depowering the Gem a bit from how I've seen it in the Comics).
Character Origin/Backstory: (A lot of this can be malleable where needed to fit Carnage's Batman plot.)
GCPD On File Report: BM139
Individual: Gordon, Barbara
Rank: Detective
Marital Status: Single
Family: Gordon, Barbara Eileen - Mother. (Deceased)
Gordon, James - Father
Dossier: (Abridged for Departmental usage only)
Barbara Gordon is the 22 year old daughter of Jim Gordon. A gymnastic star in high school, Barbara showed promise for a professional career but instead opted for an occupation she could be proud of: a police officer.
Against her father's wishes, Barbara joined the Gotham Police Academy and graduated with honors at age 19. Despite his pride in his daughter, James Gordon couldn't bare to see his only daughter in the line of fire every night. He pulled strings within the department and had her application for the GCPD rejected. Angry and betrayed, Barbara moved to New York and was accepted by the NYPD.
Barbara worked as a beat cop for a few months before her superior saw her advanced skills in police work and decided to put them to good use. One of her superiors, Jean DeWolfe, took notice of the young girl's prowess and advanced deductive skill. Jean took it upon herself to mentor Barbara; a mutually beneficial relationship where Barbara took Jean on as a surrogate mother figure - a foil worthy to rival her own father. After a year, she was able to pull the right strings within the department to get Barbara promoted to junior detective under her supervision and tutelage. At age 20 Barbara became the youngest detective in the Special Crimes unit.
The duo worked efficiently for 6 months; bringing down some of the cities most notorious criminals. Barbara gained notoriety, but also the contempt of her fellow officers for her success, causing shaky relations with her co workers.
Tracking a black market ring run by the Kingpin, the duo investigated recent sales in the criminal underground of specialized weaponry. The trail led the duo to Barbara's hometown of Gotham.
Their investigation led them to the harbor where a ship carrying a deadly weapon known as "The Gem" was expected to arrive and be sold to a cryptic masked figure known as Red X. As Sergeant DeWolfe and Detective Gordon watched the cargo be unloaded, DeWolfe called for back up from the GCPD. Red X shortly arrived and presented his payment for the mystical Gem. But the nefarious criminal had other plans as he turned on his dealers; paying off the local security to act as his own mercenaries, Red X attempted to have the betrayal look like the harbor security discovered the criminal dealers - inevitably opening fire and killing them. Unfortunately, the plan went awry as DeWolfe and Gordon entered the fray to quell the bloodshed.
Red X attempted to use the Gem, but unaware of it's power, a simple night's work quickly turned to tragedy. Unable to be controlled, The Gem's powers erupted, killing many and destroying the docks.
When the GCPD arrived, they found a wounded Barbara Gordon lying next to her fallen partner, mentor, and friend - Sergeant DeWolfe. Further investigation found both Red X and "the Gem" MIA.
Barbara was taken to the hospital for severe spinal trauma. The injury left doctors pessimistic about her chances for a full recovery - hypothesizing permanent paralysis.
A week later, a confused and weary Barbara Gordon awoke to her hospital bed. The doctors informed her of her condition as well as the fate of her partner. The following week, a wheel chair bound Detective Gordon shared her 21st birthday at the funeral of Jean DeWolfe.
Gordon took 6 months personal leave from the force for her recovery. No information exists as to her whereabouts, residence, or medical treatment during this time.
After her 6 months, Barbara returned to the NYPD - her body surprisingly healed. The department ordered a mandatory counselling therapy treatment with the on staff Psychiatrist, Dr. Karla Sofen, to evaluate her current psychological state. Dr. Sofen determined Gordon as fit for duty, and the force offered her position back on the Special Crimes unit.
Facing contempt from her fellow officers, and without the support of her superior and partner to protect her from corruption and inter department bias, Gordon requested an immediate transfer to Bludhaven PD - threatening a lawsuit on the grounds of a hostile work environment and gender discrimination. With an arduous negotiation and the aid of attorney Matt Murdock, the department accepted her transfer under the agreement that she not investigate the death of her mentor and she continuing her counselling with Dr. Sofen. Detective Gordon agreed and immediately moved to the small Gotham suburb.
Six months has passed since that day. Detective Gordon serves the citizens of Bludhaven. She has declined the option to have a partner. Recently, the Bludhaven police department has become wary of Gordon's motives and psychological profile, despite her records and performance. This paranoia has led management to require Dr. Sofen's presence for Detective Gordon's on duty activities to monitor her actions and demeanor.
While the Red X investigation has gone to a cold case file with no leads or witnesses to look into, this report also finds it relevant to mention that the police departments of Gotham, Bludhaven, and New York have responded to many disturbance calls about strange lights in the sky as well as reports of a feminine ghostly figure disrupting civilian life. Officers Valdez of the NYPD and Detectives Harvey Bullock and Renee Montoya have also gone on record as confronting a strange astral presence interfering with police work on multiple occasions. All three have declined to disclose any information.
Warrants were obtained for use of government satellites in order to monitor the airspace between the cities. A strange pattern has been observed by a small UFO flying within a triangulated area between Gotham, Bludhaven, and New York.
No further information is available at this time.
Report Compiled by: Internal Affairs Inspector William Finger
What Makes This Version "Ultimate": / Why do you want to play this character?
Babs is a 22 year old detective on the Bludhaven PD. She has a bullet lodged in her spine, making her a paraplegic. However, during the incident at the docks, the shrouded mystical weapon known as "The Gem" was fused to the shrapnel in her spine. The Gem, an alien (Kree) Gravity stone, grants her a vast number of superhuman abilities; including restoring the use of her legs. Her physical/medical paraplegic status is not known by anyone - nor is The Gem's whereabouts.
What I wanted to do with this was 1) Make this a truly ultimate one universe character by encompassing ideas from both universes while still adding a bit of my own flare. 2) Get back to writing a hero I love, but with an added twist.
I've seriously missed the RPGs, working with all you guys, reading what I think are stories better than some current comics, and writing Barbara above all. Seriously. In my own personal writing, I wrote a song with lyrics that basically acted as my way of saying goodbye to my favorite RPG character - Ms. Gordon. Hopefully, that goodbye was premature - if you fine gentlemen will permit me.
3) There's 3-4 canon Batgirls to pick from. Before New 52, Barbara matured and became her own entity separate from Batgirl. I don't know what time holds for this Barbara - I left a lot of wiggle room for changes in the future; however, for now, Barbara is going to develop as her own character that stays faithful to all of her past incarnations.
4) The Gem's Kree ownership identity won't be elaborated on unless needed. I wanted to make this Gem akin to Golden Age Alan Scott with his Power Ring. Mystical. I'm also powering it down a bit (for now anyway) so I can write stories without Babs as an uber god.
5) IDK if any of you ever knew, but I majored in Law Justice for awhile. It was a personal interest I kept with me. I'm currently ending my undergrad with a minor in Law Justice. Taking these courses again has made me want to write police procedural dramas - especially with my (hopefully) more mature prose. I also enjoyed Moonstone in Thunderbolts so I wanted to do some justice there.
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SynTheMerc
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Provide a short sample post as your desired character, in three paragraphs or more:
The sound of a mechanical switch echoes in the spacious room. As the microphone becomes live, it emits a static-like garble to adjust.
"Are you ready," Dr. Karla Sofen asks as she leans back in her chair. She adjusts her glasses before turning her gaze to her patient sitting on the sofa adjacent. Detective Barbara Gordon nods, her back erect, as she sits tall and confident on the patterned crimson couch. A strand of her fiery tinged hair falls onto her fair skinned face. "You can lie down, you know. It's a couch, after all," she says with words laced in a tactfully discrete tone rubbed generously with sarcasm.
"I'm comfortable, thanks." Detective Gordon retorts; she contorts her lips and lets out a puff of air, gently brushing the strand of hair to the side of her face. It locks back into formation with the rest in a perfect stylized motion that hearkens of magic.
"Whatever makes you comfortable, Detective." Sofen adjusts her position as she flips through the notepad clasped between her finely manicured fingers. In a stark contrast to Barbara, the fluorescent lighting of the room accentuates the doctor's blond hair - causing it to glimmer with a pristine sheen like that of a newly waxed car. "Now, our last session - I want to review what happened just before we ended it."
"Mmmhmm," she hums as she checks the time. "You do realize I'm on duty right now. Or, at least, I'm supposed to be."
"The scoundrels of Bludhaven will keep. I know the sky is usually as drab as your opinion of me, but it's only 2pm. Those high profile jay walkers can get a ticket from someone less ... fascinating."
"Ri-hiiiiiii-iiiiiiiiight. Did you catch all of that? I prolonged the vowel sounds to make sure you got a taste of the heavily laden sarcasm to your oh so witty banter that I enjoy in these sessions. And exactly what needs to be reviewed? I talk, you listen and scribble away on your notepad like a depressing elderly version of Nancy Drew who gave up on her hopes and dreams of deductive logic and settled for a job as a glorified answering machine. Listening to people's nonsense and regurgitating it to those who actually care to check up on things."
Sofen leans forward with a piercing smirk. "I do so enjoy your sophmoric snarkiness. It's rare in this occupation. Most of the police I counsel have traded their worries about what day the next season of Pretty Little Liars or Gossip Girl airs for anxiety toward supporting a wife and kids with reduced, unsupported taxpayer salaries and a crippling addiction to pain killers or alcohol."
"Jokes on you, Regina George. Gossip Girl ended two years ago. Step up your shallow insult game."
"Ha. You make me feel young again, Detective."
"You're 32."
"But I look 28."
"... again: Riii-hiiii-iiii-"
"I get it. As to what I feel needs to be reviewed from our last session? I'll cite your outburst to start."
"I had a tantrum," Barbara replies with a tone of ambivalence short enough for a toddler's reach.
"You threw my mug against the wall before storming out in a slew of profanity."
"If I recall correctly, I warned you not to go there."
"Your father?" Barbara flashes a quick intimidating glance. "Fine. We'll work up to it. Somewhat on the same topic, we're approaching the anniversary of your fallen mentor and partner- Jean."
"Sergeant DeWolfe to you."
"Jean and I had a relationship prior to your arrival in New York. She was a close friend of mine, too, Barbara. Believe it or not, there is a world outside your one-liner, sass-filled dome."
Barbara stays quiet - somewhat remorseful for her temper. Dr. Sofen wasn't her enemy - it was the department's distrust of her that truly bothered her. A perfect track record for any officer, let alone the youngest detective on the force. Yet her entire life is scrutinized by her superiors right down to her personal thoughts and feelings. She often wonders if her father ever had the same ceiling to break through. A corrupt system that punishes anyone who takes justice with integrity seriously.
"Sorry," she says in a more somber tone.
"It's okay," she smiles. "For what it's worth, I'm on your side, Barbara. I know it feels like I'm always analyzing you, but it's what I do. It's second nature. Here," she leans forward and shuts off the tape recorder. Barbara watches as she shuffles through the paper work and reveals two identical document files. "See this? This is my profile of you. 8 months worth of psychological data in this neat little packet. And this other one? This is the report I give to the Captain."
Barbara quickly scans it. "I see significantly less red ink."
"Let's just say they get an abridged version of my logs. Look, Gordon, you're a good detective. A great one. Jean always spoke highly of you. She was like my older sister. We rarely saw eye to eye on issues, but we both knew the other was validated in her logic. If Jean felt that towards you as well, then the least I can do is watch your back in her absence."
"Wow," she pauses - words fail to form between her lips as surprise wrestles guilt for control of her tongue. "Thank you."
"You can count the women in these departments on one hand. We have to stick together. That's what Jean always said."
She smiles as a brief memory replays in her mind like a flashback. Only a year has passed since her death, but the pain still grips Barbara tightly like the first day since it all changed. "Maybe," she wipes away a faint tear from her crystal blue eyes. "But don't think this means I like you."
"Please. That sassy, one-liner filled dome you hail from makes my job interesting. I wouldn't want you to like me."
They share a snicker of camaraderie. Perhaps we can reach a middle ground, Babs ponders. After all, we share one thing in common; we both miss Jean.
"We can end today's session early. It's my scheduled time to shadow you on your shift, anyway." The two rise from their seats and adjust their attire comfortably.
"Wait. If you're giving the Captain a cropped up report, what's the point of the other report?"
"You're a fascinating patient, Detective Gordon, I can't resist. My own curiosity betrays me, I'm afraid."
Barbara's face tightens. "Well, isn't that just perfectly reasonable," she says suspiciously.
"I truly hope the day comes when I earn your trust, Detective." She steps toward Barbara, putting the young prodigy on edge for a moment. Dr. Sofen extends the personal file to her and motions to take. "Here. You can read what I wrote. I just ask that you give it back in one piece. I'm going to put on my bullet proof vest and switch these pumps for a more tactical option. I'll meet you in the squad car in fifteen minutes."
Without another word, Sofen turns and exits the room. As the door shuts behind her, Barbara lets out a long sigh before collapsing into the sofa.
"Holy intimidating display of power," she mocks, brushing her hair back across her scalp. "Keep it together, Babs. You're tougher than this."
The base of her spine shoots a pang through her legs - causing her to grab the skin above her belt line viciously until the pain lessens. Pushing the discomfort out of her mind, she quickly skims the document. "Patient has repressed emotions from unresolved personal desires. Validation from parental figures inhibits Patient's personal growth. ... Possible 'daddy issues'." She frowns, "Where does she get off-"
Barbara rises from her seat, her feet hovering inches above the floor. Her body straightens out as she levitates in the middle of the office - a living ghost in plain view.
She extends her hand and instantly the drawers to Dr. Sofen's desk open. She pulls her fingers towards her palm methodically - her stunning blue eyes are replaced by pits of pure white light as her irises glow. The papers lift from the drawers and waft gently over to greet her. They align in rows which coil about her form. Barbara quickly scans each paper - analyzing every line with her eidetic skill and translating it to memory.
"So she's not lying," she speaks. "Nothing else with my name on it except a few random receipts. ... Look at that. I knew her top wasn't a Vuitton." Barbara stops as a line of prose on a report catches her attention. "What's this - 'Red X still at large. Thought to be in possession of weapon classified as 'The Gem': origin unknown .'" Just keep skimming, just keep skimming, just keep-" A pause.
"'Suspect thought to be connected to unknown UFO sightings and recent disturbance calls of power outages near Gotham Bay.' Dated September 2nd. I haven't been to the Bay in weeks." She thinks privately for a moment as she allows the evidence to sink into her processing thought scheme. "Usually these disturbance calls happen when I get sloppy and someone catches a glimpse. But ... it's been a year. Nothing. Not a trace. From the petty thieves to the crime families, not a soul has seen or heard of him. Not to mention the suspiciousness ... nature of why my therapist decided to take a clipping about the recent UFO phenomenon and stow it in her desk."
She stares at the line once more. "Why? Why return now? Days away from the anniversary of," she swallows, "My Birthday," her body unable to say the words without tearful recourse. Her arm raises and her fingers disperse. The papers return to the drawers in an orderly fashion just as they'd came. The drawers close discretely and Barbara's eyes transition back to blue as the soles of her feet touch down on the wood paneled floor. "My Birthday ... Twenty three..."
Barbara snaps back into the present as the traumatic flashback fades out in her mind. The haunting voice of Jean DeWolfe unsettles Babs for a moment - she'd forgotten just how much she missed her brutal confidence. For Barbara, her voice might as well have been the legendary Captain America himself.
Jean always had a reassuring sense of control in her voice. As if, even in the seventh level of Dante's hell, there still remained a glimmer of hope. A glimmer she could take and stretch into a supernova. "But I guess everyone's luck runs out," she says cynically. She rubs the small of her back - caressing the contours of the Gem welded to her vertebrae.
"No. I got a second chance. I'm not going to waste it on self pity. I'm too pretty to be the brooding type, anyway. But I will figure this out. One year later. ... So much can change in a year. 52 short weeks..." As she raises her hand, her eyes fixate on her palm, and a bright shimmer of light begins to form within her grasp. Her hand suddenly collapses as her fingers ball into a fist around the light. It dies within her closed hand, yet her eyes remain focused on her skin. "I'll find the answers."
A smile suddenly creeps up her cheek. She lets out a harsh laugh that resonates in her upper lip. "Jeez, how over dramatic am I going to get today? Lighten up, Babs. I can brighten my own day. I'm radiating with a bubbly disposition." She snickers, "I can't take anything too seriously. That's enough of these light puns. Blonde doctor's waiting for me, anyway. But if she thinks I'm not going to BLAST Beyonce during our patrol she's sorely mistaken."
With a brighter mood than she entered, Detective Barbara Gordon exits the room with a faint grin. Somewhere along the way, she learned that life deals each of us challenges specific to our strengths and weaknesses. Some paths are easier than others - some lives are darker than the rest. Some spend their whole life without a shadow, while others are perpetually haunted by it.
For Barbara Gordon, the Reaper keeps an appropriate following distance as he clings tightly to her coat tails. But Barbara was never one to let the night blind her. Dark skies always give way to a sunrise. Until the sun breaches the horizon, she's content to remain cloaked in the shadows. She understands them without needing to become one herself.
The sound of a mechanical switch echoes in the spacious room. As the microphone becomes live, it emits a static-like garble to adjust.
"Are you ready," Dr. Karla Sofen asks as she leans back in her chair. She adjusts her glasses before turning her gaze to her patient sitting on the sofa adjacent. Detective Barbara Gordon nods, her back erect, as she sits tall and confident on the patterned crimson couch. A strand of her fiery tinged hair falls onto her fair skinned face. "You can lie down, you know. It's a couch, after all," she says with words laced in a tactfully discrete tone rubbed generously with sarcasm.
"I'm comfortable, thanks." Detective Gordon retorts; she contorts her lips and lets out a puff of air, gently brushing the strand of hair to the side of her face. It locks back into formation with the rest in a perfect stylized motion that hearkens of magic.
"Whatever makes you comfortable, Detective." Sofen adjusts her position as she flips through the notepad clasped between her finely manicured fingers. In a stark contrast to Barbara, the fluorescent lighting of the room accentuates the doctor's blond hair - causing it to glimmer with a pristine sheen like that of a newly waxed car. "Now, our last session - I want to review what happened just before we ended it."
"Mmmhmm," she hums as she checks the time. "You do realize I'm on duty right now. Or, at least, I'm supposed to be."
"The scoundrels of Bludhaven will keep. I know the sky is usually as drab as your opinion of me, but it's only 2pm. Those high profile jay walkers can get a ticket from someone less ... fascinating."
"Ri-hiiiiiii-iiiiiiiiight. Did you catch all of that? I prolonged the vowel sounds to make sure you got a taste of the heavily laden sarcasm to your oh so witty banter that I enjoy in these sessions. And exactly what needs to be reviewed? I talk, you listen and scribble away on your notepad like a depressing elderly version of Nancy Drew who gave up on her hopes and dreams of deductive logic and settled for a job as a glorified answering machine. Listening to people's nonsense and regurgitating it to those who actually care to check up on things."
Sofen leans forward with a piercing smirk. "I do so enjoy your sophmoric snarkiness. It's rare in this occupation. Most of the police I counsel have traded their worries about what day the next season of Pretty Little Liars or Gossip Girl airs for anxiety toward supporting a wife and kids with reduced, unsupported taxpayer salaries and a crippling addiction to pain killers or alcohol."
"Jokes on you, Regina George. Gossip Girl ended two years ago. Step up your shallow insult game."
"Ha. You make me feel young again, Detective."
"You're 32."
"But I look 28."
"... again: Riii-hiiii-iiii-"
"I get it. As to what I feel needs to be reviewed from our last session? I'll cite your outburst to start."
"I had a tantrum," Barbara replies with a tone of ambivalence short enough for a toddler's reach.
"You threw my mug against the wall before storming out in a slew of profanity."
"If I recall correctly, I warned you not to go there."
"Your father?" Barbara flashes a quick intimidating glance. "Fine. We'll work up to it. Somewhat on the same topic, we're approaching the anniversary of your fallen mentor and partner- Jean."
"Sergeant DeWolfe to you."
"Jean and I had a relationship prior to your arrival in New York. She was a close friend of mine, too, Barbara. Believe it or not, there is a world outside your one-liner, sass-filled dome."
Barbara stays quiet - somewhat remorseful for her temper. Dr. Sofen wasn't her enemy - it was the department's distrust of her that truly bothered her. A perfect track record for any officer, let alone the youngest detective on the force. Yet her entire life is scrutinized by her superiors right down to her personal thoughts and feelings. She often wonders if her father ever had the same ceiling to break through. A corrupt system that punishes anyone who takes justice with integrity seriously.
"Sorry," she says in a more somber tone.
"It's okay," she smiles. "For what it's worth, I'm on your side, Barbara. I know it feels like I'm always analyzing you, but it's what I do. It's second nature. Here," she leans forward and shuts off the tape recorder. Barbara watches as she shuffles through the paper work and reveals two identical document files. "See this? This is my profile of you. 8 months worth of psychological data in this neat little packet. And this other one? This is the report I give to the Captain."
Barbara quickly scans it. "I see significantly less red ink."
"Let's just say they get an abridged version of my logs. Look, Gordon, you're a good detective. A great one. Jean always spoke highly of you. She was like my older sister. We rarely saw eye to eye on issues, but we both knew the other was validated in her logic. If Jean felt that towards you as well, then the least I can do is watch your back in her absence."
"Wow," she pauses - words fail to form between her lips as surprise wrestles guilt for control of her tongue. "Thank you."
"You can count the women in these departments on one hand. We have to stick together. That's what Jean always said."
She smiles as a brief memory replays in her mind like a flashback. Only a year has passed since her death, but the pain still grips Barbara tightly like the first day since it all changed. "Maybe," she wipes away a faint tear from her crystal blue eyes. "But don't think this means I like you."
"Please. That sassy, one-liner filled dome you hail from makes my job interesting. I wouldn't want you to like me."
They share a snicker of camaraderie. Perhaps we can reach a middle ground, Babs ponders. After all, we share one thing in common; we both miss Jean.
"We can end today's session early. It's my scheduled time to shadow you on your shift, anyway." The two rise from their seats and adjust their attire comfortably.
"Wait. If you're giving the Captain a cropped up report, what's the point of the other report?"
"You're a fascinating patient, Detective Gordon, I can't resist. My own curiosity betrays me, I'm afraid."
Barbara's face tightens. "Well, isn't that just perfectly reasonable," she says suspiciously.
"I truly hope the day comes when I earn your trust, Detective." She steps toward Barbara, putting the young prodigy on edge for a moment. Dr. Sofen extends the personal file to her and motions to take. "Here. You can read what I wrote. I just ask that you give it back in one piece. I'm going to put on my bullet proof vest and switch these pumps for a more tactical option. I'll meet you in the squad car in fifteen minutes."
Without another word, Sofen turns and exits the room. As the door shuts behind her, Barbara lets out a long sigh before collapsing into the sofa.
"Holy intimidating display of power," she mocks, brushing her hair back across her scalp. "Keep it together, Babs. You're tougher than this."
The base of her spine shoots a pang through her legs - causing her to grab the skin above her belt line viciously until the pain lessens. Pushing the discomfort out of her mind, she quickly skims the document. "Patient has repressed emotions from unresolved personal desires. Validation from parental figures inhibits Patient's personal growth. ... Possible 'daddy issues'." She frowns, "Where does she get off-"
Barbara rises from her seat, her feet hovering inches above the floor. Her body straightens out as she levitates in the middle of the office - a living ghost in plain view.
She extends her hand and instantly the drawers to Dr. Sofen's desk open. She pulls her fingers towards her palm methodically - her stunning blue eyes are replaced by pits of pure white light as her irises glow. The papers lift from the drawers and waft gently over to greet her. They align in rows which coil about her form. Barbara quickly scans each paper - analyzing every line with her eidetic skill and translating it to memory.
"So she's not lying," she speaks. "Nothing else with my name on it except a few random receipts. ... Look at that. I knew her top wasn't a Vuitton." Barbara stops as a line of prose on a report catches her attention. "What's this - 'Red X still at large. Thought to be in possession of weapon classified as 'The Gem': origin unknown .'" Just keep skimming, just keep skimming, just keep-" A pause.
"'Suspect thought to be connected to unknown UFO sightings and recent disturbance calls of power outages near Gotham Bay.' Dated September 2nd. I haven't been to the Bay in weeks." She thinks privately for a moment as she allows the evidence to sink into her processing thought scheme. "Usually these disturbance calls happen when I get sloppy and someone catches a glimpse. But ... it's been a year. Nothing. Not a trace. From the petty thieves to the crime families, not a soul has seen or heard of him. Not to mention the suspiciousness ... nature of why my therapist decided to take a clipping about the recent UFO phenomenon and stow it in her desk."
She stares at the line once more. "Why? Why return now? Days away from the anniversary of," she swallows, "My Birthday," her body unable to say the words without tearful recourse. Her arm raises and her fingers disperse. The papers return to the drawers in an orderly fashion just as they'd came. The drawers close discretely and Barbara's eyes transition back to blue as the soles of her feet touch down on the wood paneled floor. "My Birthday ... Twenty three..."
"How many, Jean?"
BANG BANG
"Twenty three! I counted twenty three armed."
BANG BANG
"We don't have enough ammunition, let alone the proper vantage points, to deal with this!"
BUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDA BANG BANG BUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDA
"Where's our backup?!"
"We made the call, Red. They'll be here - but we can't wait for them."
"Wait - What are you saying?" BANG BANG "Jean- Jean, what are you saying?"
"Drop the clip and reload, Red. Keep your head low and fire in the direction of enemy combatants. If we're lucky, it'll buy us the 500 feet we need to get out of range."
BUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDA BUDDABUDDABUDDA
"500 feet, twenty three guys firing high powered weapons from tactically proficient positions - average human takes 0.543 seconds to aim and open fire. It's mathematically hopeless. The second they see the whites of our eyes we're going to be torn apart like- like-"
"Then keep them shut, Barbara. And don't look back!"
BANG BANG
"Twenty three! I counted twenty three armed."
BANG BANG
"We don't have enough ammunition, let alone the proper vantage points, to deal with this!"
BUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDA BANG BANG BUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDA
"Where's our backup?!"
"We made the call, Red. They'll be here - but we can't wait for them."
"Wait - What are you saying?" BANG BANG "Jean- Jean, what are you saying?"
"Drop the clip and reload, Red. Keep your head low and fire in the direction of enemy combatants. If we're lucky, it'll buy us the 500 feet we need to get out of range."
BUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDA BUDDABUDDABUDDA
"500 feet, twenty three guys firing high powered weapons from tactically proficient positions - average human takes 0.543 seconds to aim and open fire. It's mathematically hopeless. The second they see the whites of our eyes we're going to be torn apart like- like-"
"Then keep them shut, Barbara. And don't look back!"
"Don't lookkkkk baccckkkk."
"Don't looooookkkkk backkkkkk"
Barbara snaps back into the present as the traumatic flashback fades out in her mind. The haunting voice of Jean DeWolfe unsettles Babs for a moment - she'd forgotten just how much she missed her brutal confidence. For Barbara, her voice might as well have been the legendary Captain America himself.
Jean always had a reassuring sense of control in her voice. As if, even in the seventh level of Dante's hell, there still remained a glimmer of hope. A glimmer she could take and stretch into a supernova. "But I guess everyone's luck runs out," she says cynically. She rubs the small of her back - caressing the contours of the Gem welded to her vertebrae.
"No. I got a second chance. I'm not going to waste it on self pity. I'm too pretty to be the brooding type, anyway. But I will figure this out. One year later. ... So much can change in a year. 52 short weeks..." As she raises her hand, her eyes fixate on her palm, and a bright shimmer of light begins to form within her grasp. Her hand suddenly collapses as her fingers ball into a fist around the light. It dies within her closed hand, yet her eyes remain focused on her skin. "I'll find the answers."
A smile suddenly creeps up her cheek. She lets out a harsh laugh that resonates in her upper lip. "Jeez, how over dramatic am I going to get today? Lighten up, Babs. I can brighten my own day. I'm radiating with a bubbly disposition." She snickers, "I can't take anything too seriously. That's enough of these light puns. Blonde doctor's waiting for me, anyway. But if she thinks I'm not going to BLAST Beyonce during our patrol she's sorely mistaken."
With a brighter mood than she entered, Detective Barbara Gordon exits the room with a faint grin. Somewhere along the way, she learned that life deals each of us challenges specific to our strengths and weaknesses. Some paths are easier than others - some lives are darker than the rest. Some spend their whole life without a shadow, while others are perpetually haunted by it.
For Barbara Gordon, the Reaper keeps an appropriate following distance as he clings tightly to her coat tails. But Barbara was never one to let the night blind her. Dark skies always give way to a sunrise. Until the sun breaches the horizon, she's content to remain cloaked in the shadows. She understands them without needing to become one herself.
*...*
*........*
*.............*
*........*
*.............*
"Gotham Time is 2:20pm. I'm Inspector William Finger conducting an investigation as to the identity of the masked vigilante known as Moonstone. State your name for the record, please."
"Barbara Gordon. Detective Barbara Gordon."
"And would you please articulate your reasoning for being here?"
" ... To bring things into the light."
"Barbara Gordon. Detective Barbara Gordon."
"And would you please articulate your reasoning for being here?"
" ... To bring things into the light."
****
******
********
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Carnage27
No one's puppet
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First of all, I love this idea. Great app. Plus, with Stephanie and Cassandra out there, I won't be hurting for a Batgirl when the time comes.
Second of all, MST3K editted his Joker app and is now good to go on my end.
EDIT: Here's my Superman sample. I'm still working on his supporting cast and my story at large for him, but this gives you the idea.
Sample Post (provide a short post of at least 3 paragraphs and 1 line of dialogue for your character)
The wind howls around me as I push myself through the terrible twister. Growing up in Kansas made one used to the occurence of tornadoes, but I've never seen one like this before. It seems to have engulfed the entire town of Smallville in its black, destructive grasp. All around me debris pelts the fields and streets of my small little town as I race to save who I can manage to. I always thought, in my own arrogance, that I am the most powerful being on the planet, but mother nature herself seems to be sending me a message on this night.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the old Johnson place begin to break apart, and can hear the screams of their small children from inside. Using my x-ray vision, I can see their father struggling with the door to the storm cellar.
Kicking off the ground, I take off towards him, fighting the punishing winds as I do. The front window shatters as I pass through it, pushing the man into the cellar in the process, and slamming the door shut just as the house comes down around me. The wood and glass from the construction bounce off my body like tennis balls before the twister moves off, leaving me covering in a layer of wreckage.
Taking off once again, I follow the path of the devestating storm as it crosses the town proper. The warning alarms went off in time here, and everyone seems to have gotten in doors. But then, I hear a scream that I immediately recognize. The sound reaches my ears even over the din of the killer twister tearing through my town.
"Lana," I mutter to myself before altering course through the storm to its source. There, I find Lana Lang's car tumbling through the air. This is why I couldn't reach her. She was on her way to my place. It makes sense. She can't stand her parents, and often would stay at my place to avoid them.
Positioning myself in front of the hurtling car, I manage to catch the vehicle. The force of the wind and the weight of the car bring me to my knees, and I struggle to take flight. Realizing I can't, I drop the car, rip off the door, and pull Lana free. Protecting her with my body, I rocket the two of us out of the twister and to safety.
I place her down, and she looks up at me with tears in her eyes, "C-Clark?"
"Hey, Lana," is all I manage to get out. I must look like a mess. My clothes are ripped to shreds from the debris, but I don't have a scratch on me. In fact, I probably look like I could take on five more twisters tonight before tiring out. Lana, in contrast, is a mess. She has cuts and bruises from the tumble in the car, but that's not what's shaken her. No, what's really bothering her is the fact I just flew her out of a death trap like it was nothing.
"What are you?" she says half amazed and half terrified.
So I tell her. At least, I tell her what I can do. I leave out the parts about being an alien destined to save the planet. She probably figures I'm one of those mutants they're always talking about. That has to be better than telling her I'm from outer space.
But Lana never speaks to me again. I fly her home, and she cries into my chest the entire time.
Second of all, MST3K editted his Joker app and is now good to go on my end.
EDIT: Here's my Superman sample. I'm still working on his supporting cast and my story at large for him, but this gives you the idea.
Sample Post (provide a short post of at least 3 paragraphs and 1 line of dialogue for your character)
The wind howls around me as I push myself through the terrible twister. Growing up in Kansas made one used to the occurence of tornadoes, but I've never seen one like this before. It seems to have engulfed the entire town of Smallville in its black, destructive grasp. All around me debris pelts the fields and streets of my small little town as I race to save who I can manage to. I always thought, in my own arrogance, that I am the most powerful being on the planet, but mother nature herself seems to be sending me a message on this night.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the old Johnson place begin to break apart, and can hear the screams of their small children from inside. Using my x-ray vision, I can see their father struggling with the door to the storm cellar.
Kicking off the ground, I take off towards him, fighting the punishing winds as I do. The front window shatters as I pass through it, pushing the man into the cellar in the process, and slamming the door shut just as the house comes down around me. The wood and glass from the construction bounce off my body like tennis balls before the twister moves off, leaving me covering in a layer of wreckage.
Taking off once again, I follow the path of the devestating storm as it crosses the town proper. The warning alarms went off in time here, and everyone seems to have gotten in doors. But then, I hear a scream that I immediately recognize. The sound reaches my ears even over the din of the killer twister tearing through my town.
"Lana," I mutter to myself before altering course through the storm to its source. There, I find Lana Lang's car tumbling through the air. This is why I couldn't reach her. She was on her way to my place. It makes sense. She can't stand her parents, and often would stay at my place to avoid them.
Positioning myself in front of the hurtling car, I manage to catch the vehicle. The force of the wind and the weight of the car bring me to my knees, and I struggle to take flight. Realizing I can't, I drop the car, rip off the door, and pull Lana free. Protecting her with my body, I rocket the two of us out of the twister and to safety.
I place her down, and she looks up at me with tears in her eyes, "C-Clark?"
"Hey, Lana," is all I manage to get out. I must look like a mess. My clothes are ripped to shreds from the debris, but I don't have a scratch on me. In fact, I probably look like I could take on five more twisters tonight before tiring out. Lana, in contrast, is a mess. She has cuts and bruises from the tumble in the car, but that's not what's shaken her. No, what's really bothering her is the fact I just flew her out of a death trap like it was nothing.
"What are you?" she says half amazed and half terrified.
So I tell her. At least, I tell her what I can do. I leave out the parts about being an alien destined to save the planet. She probably figures I'm one of those mutants they're always talking about. That has to be better than telling her I'm from outer space.
But Lana never speaks to me again. I fly her home, and she cries into my chest the entire time.
Last edited:
Saved
SynTheMerc
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Thanks my man!
What's the approval process around these parts?
Also, I see James Gordon is the Lieutenant. Did you flesh anything else out for him or have anything planned so I can work with it?
EDIT Besides what was mentioned in your recap. Also when did Jim's wife die?
What's the approval process around these parts?
Also, I see James Gordon is the Lieutenant. Did you flesh anything else out for him or have anything planned so I can work with it?
EDIT Besides what was mentioned in your recap. Also when did Jim's wife die?
Last edited:
Carnage27
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What he said. I'm just gonna assume I'm good with Supes as well
Andy C.
Repent, Harlequin!
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All right, let's do this.
Character Name: The Demon's Head
Alignment (Hero, Villain, Walking the Line): Villain.
Character Speech Font and Color: Georgia, Bold, Dark Olive Green
Powers and Abilities:
The man who calls himself "The Demon's Head" is an unparalleled genius, a master of the sciences and the arcane. He is a master of combat, both unarmed and with a variety of weapons, including a slew of cutting-edge offensive and defensive devices built into his custom armored suit. However, he very rarely has need to dispatch enemies himself, as he has no shortage of deadly resources at his command.
He leads the Legion of Shadows, the former League of the world's deadliest assassins, an order dedicated to radical global change by any means necessary. At his beck and call are thousands of agents spread across the world, some as killers or saboteurs, others as moles deep within major governments, insurgent cells, or multinational corporations. Chief among his lieutenants is his bride Talia, the daughter of his former master.
However, given the treacherous nature of the Legion of Shadows, the Demon's Head does not trust any of them as his personal guard. To that end, he has constructed a small army of powerful, incredibly lethal androids, fashioned in his image to act both as bodyguard and body-double.
Character Origin/Backstory:
Many years ago, a small temple atop a dangerously steep mountain in Tibet received an unexpected guest. A lone man, his face covered by bandages, had climbed the mountain with his bare hands, facing a hundred different forms of agonizing death to reach this forgotten peak. Near dead from exposure and barely able to speak, the man demanded an audience with the head of the temple.
When the guards laughed at his audacity, he proceeded to kill three of them where they stood. This was enough to gain the attention of the man he sought, the immortal Ra's al Ghul.
The stranger, he explained, had come from a war-torn Balkan nation, a former Soviet state now ruled by a brutal pig of a man. During his time in the Red Army, this pig dictator-- a lowly officer at the time-- had led a raid on the small village the stranger called home, butchering his family and sending him off to a labor camp.
After several years, he escaped and fled overseas to America, but the hatred he had learned there still burned brightly. He buried his mind in academia, becoming a brilliant scientist, but he knew the pursuit of knowledge was worthless without a purpose. In his heart, he had vowed to return to his homeland and destroy the pig who had taken so much from him, and from there, cleanse injustice from the world.
Ra's al Ghul had use of such a brilliant mind and such a feverish hatred, and so welcomed the stranger into the League of Shadows.
The student learned quickly, absorbing the immortal's lessons on how to turn fear into a weapon, how to affect change from great distances, how to kill and conquer without ever being seen or heard. While he excelled in his lessons, the student fell out of the master's favor, largely due to the rise in prominence of another pupil of the Demon's Head, a young American man named Bruce Wayne.
The student watched as Wayne worked his way up the ranks of the League, not only becoming a favorite disciple of Ra's al Ghul, but gaining the affection of his daughter Talia. Despite this, the student kept to his own, never directly confronting Wayne nor his rival, the second-in-command known as Bane. In truth, his being overshadowed was fortuitous, as with fewer eyes on him, fewer people could tell his true motivations.
Eventually, the upstart Wayne rebelled, his altruistic ethics coming into conflict with the League's vision of the future. His departure was a great wound to Ra's and his followers, one that the ambitious student was all too eager to exploit.
The coup was brutal, bloody and quick. The student had gained many allies, convincing and coercing many to turn against the elders in the League of Shadows. Many he turned to attack critical spots in the old man's order; many more were simply chattel to distract his enemies by falling on their swords. Still, in the end, it came down to the student challenging the master, crossing steel in the desert night.
When all was said and done, the student slew the immortal Ra's al Ghul, cutting his head from his shoulders, and took the name of the Demon's Head for himself. Bane had been routed and exiled with those few loyal to him, and Talia converted to join her new master, as both his chief assassin, and as his bride. He set out a bold new vision for the League of Shadows, reforming it into a Legion of his own design, and setting a course not of stealthy manipulation, but of open conquest.
The man known as "The Demon's Head" now sits on a throne in his reclaimed homeland, the head of the old dictator impaled on a spike across from one for the head of the old Ra's al Ghul. An army now answers to his command, and a nation now kneels before him.
Only those most loyal to him, however, know of the title of The Demon's Head.
The rest of the world knows him by his given name.....
.....Victor Von Doom.
What Makes This Version "Ultimate":
Well, aside from his new position, Victor is going to be just an outright terrifying villain. None of this "misunderstood noble" nonsense: Doom is pure ****ing evil, and doesn't care who knows it.
What can you bring to the RPG:
A big bad that can go toe to toe with anyone in the Marvel or DC universe any day of the week, and make them feel it for the rest of their lives.
Sample Post (provide a short post of at least 3 paragraphs and 1 line of dialogue for your character):
(Coming soon.....yeah, I know, shut up)
Character Name: The Demon's Head
Alignment (Hero, Villain, Walking the Line): Villain.
Character Speech Font and Color: Georgia, Bold, Dark Olive Green
Powers and Abilities:
The man who calls himself "The Demon's Head" is an unparalleled genius, a master of the sciences and the arcane. He is a master of combat, both unarmed and with a variety of weapons, including a slew of cutting-edge offensive and defensive devices built into his custom armored suit. However, he very rarely has need to dispatch enemies himself, as he has no shortage of deadly resources at his command.
He leads the Legion of Shadows, the former League of the world's deadliest assassins, an order dedicated to radical global change by any means necessary. At his beck and call are thousands of agents spread across the world, some as killers or saboteurs, others as moles deep within major governments, insurgent cells, or multinational corporations. Chief among his lieutenants is his bride Talia, the daughter of his former master.
However, given the treacherous nature of the Legion of Shadows, the Demon's Head does not trust any of them as his personal guard. To that end, he has constructed a small army of powerful, incredibly lethal androids, fashioned in his image to act both as bodyguard and body-double.
Character Origin/Backstory:
Many years ago, a small temple atop a dangerously steep mountain in Tibet received an unexpected guest. A lone man, his face covered by bandages, had climbed the mountain with his bare hands, facing a hundred different forms of agonizing death to reach this forgotten peak. Near dead from exposure and barely able to speak, the man demanded an audience with the head of the temple.
When the guards laughed at his audacity, he proceeded to kill three of them where they stood. This was enough to gain the attention of the man he sought, the immortal Ra's al Ghul.
The stranger, he explained, had come from a war-torn Balkan nation, a former Soviet state now ruled by a brutal pig of a man. During his time in the Red Army, this pig dictator-- a lowly officer at the time-- had led a raid on the small village the stranger called home, butchering his family and sending him off to a labor camp.
After several years, he escaped and fled overseas to America, but the hatred he had learned there still burned brightly. He buried his mind in academia, becoming a brilliant scientist, but he knew the pursuit of knowledge was worthless without a purpose. In his heart, he had vowed to return to his homeland and destroy the pig who had taken so much from him, and from there, cleanse injustice from the world.
Ra's al Ghul had use of such a brilliant mind and such a feverish hatred, and so welcomed the stranger into the League of Shadows.
The student learned quickly, absorbing the immortal's lessons on how to turn fear into a weapon, how to affect change from great distances, how to kill and conquer without ever being seen or heard. While he excelled in his lessons, the student fell out of the master's favor, largely due to the rise in prominence of another pupil of the Demon's Head, a young American man named Bruce Wayne.
The student watched as Wayne worked his way up the ranks of the League, not only becoming a favorite disciple of Ra's al Ghul, but gaining the affection of his daughter Talia. Despite this, the student kept to his own, never directly confronting Wayne nor his rival, the second-in-command known as Bane. In truth, his being overshadowed was fortuitous, as with fewer eyes on him, fewer people could tell his true motivations.
Eventually, the upstart Wayne rebelled, his altruistic ethics coming into conflict with the League's vision of the future. His departure was a great wound to Ra's and his followers, one that the ambitious student was all too eager to exploit.
The coup was brutal, bloody and quick. The student had gained many allies, convincing and coercing many to turn against the elders in the League of Shadows. Many he turned to attack critical spots in the old man's order; many more were simply chattel to distract his enemies by falling on their swords. Still, in the end, it came down to the student challenging the master, crossing steel in the desert night.
When all was said and done, the student slew the immortal Ra's al Ghul, cutting his head from his shoulders, and took the name of the Demon's Head for himself. Bane had been routed and exiled with those few loyal to him, and Talia converted to join her new master, as both his chief assassin, and as his bride. He set out a bold new vision for the League of Shadows, reforming it into a Legion of his own design, and setting a course not of stealthy manipulation, but of open conquest.
The man known as "The Demon's Head" now sits on a throne in his reclaimed homeland, the head of the old dictator impaled on a spike across from one for the head of the old Ra's al Ghul. An army now answers to his command, and a nation now kneels before him.
Only those most loyal to him, however, know of the title of The Demon's Head.
The rest of the world knows him by his given name.....
.....Victor Von Doom.
What Makes This Version "Ultimate":
Well, aside from his new position, Victor is going to be just an outright terrifying villain. None of this "misunderstood noble" nonsense: Doom is pure ****ing evil, and doesn't care who knows it.
What can you bring to the RPG:
A big bad that can go toe to toe with anyone in the Marvel or DC universe any day of the week, and make them feel it for the rest of their lives.
Sample Post (provide a short post of at least 3 paragraphs and 1 line of dialogue for your character):
(Coming soon.....yeah, I know, shut up)
Batman
Dramatic Example
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I agree with all that's been said. **** me and start posting, all of you. 
To prevent this from happening again, I'm going to make it perfectly clear that, yes, Carnage has approval powers aswell. Infact, I consider it canon that he has pretty much all of the powers and authority that I do, so if I'm being an (insert your insult of choice here), he's the guy you go to. I'm also going to go ahead and amend the 48 hour rule now that the IC thread is up, because what's the point of competing for characters everyone has had time to think up and apply for?
So while I'm at it, MST's approved for The Joker, since Carnage approved of his take on it.
And Andy is approved for The Demon's Head/Doom aswell, because I'll be damned if anyone would have ever thought of that.
Now.
*deep breath*
Ultimate One Universe
Character Application
Character Name: Spider-Man/Peter Parker
Alignment (Hero, Villain, Walking the Line): Hero
Character Speech Font and Color: For this version, Bold Verdana Blue works for Spidey. Unbolded for when he's just plain ol' Peter.
Powers and Abilities: Having his DNA genetically spliced with that of a spider's granted Peter several characteristics of the animal, including...
- The ability to scale walls and stick to virtually any surface, through a complex set of virtually invisible tufts filled with rigid needlepoint hairs that extend from Peter's fingers to the bottom of his feet. Scientifically, these are called scopulae.
- Strength, stamina, agility and reflexes that are ten times that of a normal human's capabilities, dirived from an internal pressure system built into his muscles. This also allows him to jump for greater distances and keep a perfect balance on an otherwise unstable perch, such as rope and flagpoles.
- Small, retractable talons from each fingertip that each house an injectable non-lethal paralysis toxin. Peter's own personal fear of the toxin's capabilities keep it at the bottom of his priority powers to use, however, making it an ability of last resort.
- An amplified sensory gland that gives him a sixth sense of oncoming physical danger. Peter's limited understanding of it has prompted him to dub it "Spider-Sense".
- Enhanced visual perception that can allow for crystal clear daylight vision, and even nightvision capabilities.
- And lastly, perhaps even disturbingly, organic spinnerets internally grafted into the skin beneath his wrists that secrete a calcium-based silk webbing when pressure is applied to a specific connective vein. This allows Peter to sling the web for fast travel, aswell as provide him with an easy defensive mechanism.
Character Origin/Backstory: On assignment as a freelance photographer, 17-year-old Peter Parker was one of a few in attendance at a public demonstration of Star Labs' revolutionary new invention - the genetic sequencer. Developed by Doctor Curt Connors and Professor Martin Stein, after the former spent years trying to find a way to regrow his missing right arm through genetic splicing, the sequencer promised a radical new development in scientific research that would allow for the adaptive qualities in animal species to be applied to medical science. Peter was so transfixed by getting a good shot of the experiment in progress that he didn't notice a small spider as it dropped down on it's web behind him, landing squarely on his hand. However, in the midst of the demonstration, something went wrong. The machine malfunctioned and Connors ordered an emergency shutdown, but not before the sequencer released a field of unknown energies into the room. The malfunction scared the arachnid, who promptly bit Peter shortly before it died.
At first, he felt fine. Then he woke up in a hospital three weeks later, told that he'd been in a coma since the day of the incident. But astonishingly, Peter's bloodwork and CT scans determined that nothing was wrong, and the doctors chalked it up to an extreme allergic reaction to the spider's venom whenever he recounted what had happened. Eventually allowed to return to home to his Aunt May and Uncle Ben, life resumed for him as normal. Normal, being that he returned to being utterly invisible to ninety-eight percent of the student body at Midtown High. The two exceptions to the rule were Harry Osborn, whom Peter had been friends with since grade school, and Gwen Stacy, who had been his next door neighbor since they were five.
His life took an incredibly unexpected turn, however, when crossing the street on the way home from his first day back at Midtown. Almost as if he knew the car was coming for him before it turned the corner, Peter leaped out of the way of a speeding vehicle and landed squarely on the wall of a nearby building - and at least twenty feet off of the ground. Discovering he could crawl up the wall without falling, he naturally panicked and ran home, only to rip the front door's handle off of it's hinge without even trying. Fearing that he was developing a mutation, he kept silent about it to his Aunt and Uncle and immediately visited Star Labs the very next day.
Revealing the nature of his condition to Dr. Connors, Connors was amazed to discover that Peter's blood pallates were slowly transforming. Almost as if his DNA itself was slowly being rewritten. Realizing the boy was scared out of his mind, Curt began to realize what had happened and explained his theory - that the energy field from the genetic sequencer's malfunction had enhanced the spider venom in Peter's blood, splicing together his celluar structure with the arachnid's. Feeling an immense sense of guilt for what had happened, if that were the case, Connors promised to keep Peter's identity anonymous among his peers as they analyzed the blood sample to find a cure.
At first, Peter was afraid of his newfound power. But as this secret expanded his mind, opening him to an interest in science for the first time in his life, Peter began to revel in it. With every new ability he discovered, his excitement only increased. So much so that when he found himself tired of living anonymously, he sought to capitalize on his abilities, realizing his dead-end job as a photographer would never earn him the money to go to college. Taking up Connors' advice on staying anonymous, Peter donned a mask so that he wouldn't be recognized as he began filming a series of live webcasts, displaying his abilities for the entire world to see. Less than a week in, he was a viral sensation. Three weeks in, and the mysterious "Human Spider" was offered a unique opportunity - a chance to try out for the EWO, New York's indie wrestling division.
Throwing together a makeshift costume for his big entrance in the ring, Peter combined a red lycra jumpsuit he purchased off of eBay with a turquiose hoodie and drew a spider insignia across the chest. Determined to call himself The Scarlet Spider, or Spidercide - hell, even Spiderboy would work - he debuted a month later and easily pinned the World Heavyweight Champion, Crusher Hogan, in just under a minute. Offered a contract, the EWO manager put out an ad with a new name to go with Peter's unusual gimmick: The Spectacular Spider-Man.
The next few weeks were the greatest of Peter's life. No longer satisfied with being overlooked, his newfound confidence gave him the courage to ask out the most popular girl in school, Liz Allen. He was turned down, of course, and even laughed at - but the fact that he did it was enough to show himself that this newfound sense of power had really changed him for the better. Swelling with the fame, he began to spend more time in the ring as Spider-Man than he did living up to his responsibilities as Peter Parker. So after facing every big name on EWO's roster, from Bonesaw McGraw to Mark "Molten Man" Raxton, Peter was more than a little surprised to see it all go downhill with one argument. Confronted by his Uncle Ben, who'd been troubled by his recent behavior, Peter became enraged and acted out in frustration, running away from home in order to to attend his next match against a new talent.
That talent was Sergei Kravinoff. At first playing the part, even calling himself "The Hunter" when the promoter asked for his name, Kravinoff eventually showed his true intent whenever he went wild and attacked Spider-Man with a bowie knife, screaming about how he knew what the boy really was and that he'd become his prey, promising to end the abomination's life. Though it took a struggle, Peter overpowered him long enough for the police to arrest the deranged lunatic. But the botched scene of the match proved to be too much for EWO's managers, who fired Peter on the spot, convinced he'd attracted the wrong kind of attention for the organization.
Embittered, Peter tossed his Spider-Man outfit in a trash bin behind the arena as he left, feeling as if he'd been wronged. He was so lost in his own self-pity that he didn't even pay attention as an armed robbery took place infront of him on the way home, despite the gunman looking Peter dead in the eyes as he ran. The victims of the mugging chastised him for not even bothering to call the police, but Peter brushed it off as nothing and continued on, even stating that it wasn't his problem. By the time he returned home, though, he developed a much more serious problem that became evident by the scene of several squad cars surrounding his home. Storming in through the front door, Peter was shocked to find his Aunt May keeled over from a heart attack. Their neighbor and Gwen's father, Captain Stacy, explained to him that the heart attack had come as a result of the horrible news she'd just recieved: Ben had been killed in a carjacking in the city. And worse, it was because he was looking for Peter, who they'd discovered had ran off in the middle of the night.
He quickly learned of the location of the carjacker through GPS and, consumed by the thought of revenge, became determined to hunt him down, chasing him through the city and eventually managing to square off with his Uncle's killer in a warehouse in Brooklyn. It was the shock of Peter's life when he discovered that the man he had easily overcome was the same man he hadn't bothered to stop from mugging that couple when he had a chance. Distraught, he left the killer for the police and wandered off into the night.
Weeks passed, and Peter fell into a deep depression. Unable to leave his Aunt May's hospital room or even talk to anyone, it took an act of kindness on May's part to finally break through to him. Giving him a note that his Ben had wrote for him long ago whenever they'd started his college fund, Peter read his late Uncle's first - and ironically last - real words of wisdom for him. "This is for your future, Peter. And you have the power to make it your's. Don't waste it. Your father used to have a saying,", it read. "That with great power, comes great responsibility."
From that day forth, a hero was born.
What Makes This Version "Ultimate": For one thing, he isn't a science wiz. Peter only really got an interest in science because of what was happening to him, and he's hardly a genius on the subject. He also wasn't bullied so much as he was a social outcast, making him more of a normal kid who just happened to stumble backwards into some powers. Beyond that, however, I want to portray him as kind of a criss-cross between Ultimate and some of the modern Dan Slott stuff. Both to improve on some of the ideas Bendis put forth - particularly with the villains and supporting cast - and to pay homage to Spider-Man as I know and love him.
I've also written new and very detailed origins for most of his rogues gallery. And while I don't want to change Peter as a character too much, I do want to flip the script on a couple of big beats in the overall mythology, so nothing's really going to be the same apart from the very basic stuff. He's a teenager, he lost his Uncle Ben, learned that with great power must come great responsibility, and now he's Spider-Man. Everything going forward is completely up in the air.
What can you bring to the RPG: Hopefully a hell of alot more than I've been bringing to the games lately. I feel like I've overcome something by finally writing an app I'm mostly satisfied by, so I want to move ahead and get back into the swing of things - pun intended.
Sample Post (provide a short post of at least 3 paragraphs and 1 line of dialogue for your character):
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a robbery! So I expect all of you to remain calm and shut the hell up!"
Don't you just love it when everything goes according to plan?
No, really. Do you? Because I've never known what that feels like.
Take this sordid little display, for example. Here I am, wrong place at the wrong time, trying to cash a ludicrously small check from the last job I want to be doing in the world, and these clowns show up to make my day a little more convoluted than it already was. I recognize them immediately, given their goofy attire. They're what that jerk with the flat-top on The Daily Bugle keeps calling "The Shockers". Small-time crooks who recently made it to the big time whenever Herman Schultz, a scum to end all scumbags who like to do scumbaggy things, took over the empire of L. Thompson Lincoln. I don't know if they're doing it just to stand out amongst a sea of other crooks that have sprung up around Manhattan lately, or if they legitimately lack access to a mirror, but what makes them memorable are those bulky yellow and brown outfits that they were with pride. Seriously, they look like they were made from the ugliest quilt in the world. Seeing them up close for the first time is actually making it worse, because it looks like they really did sew together a bunch of ugly quits from an ugly quilt factory and wore them.
Not that I have much room to criticize.
I'm still learning how to sew my costume off of a cosplayer's Youtube channel.
"Alright, listen up, because here's how it's gonna go. Shock-1, here, is going to loot all of your valuables. Shock-2 is gonna man the door and watch for any cops,", their leader warns us, waving his gun around like your stereotypical movie villain. "The rest of us are gonna help ourselves to the contents of the vault. We already have the silent alarm and the cameras covered, so if any of you are thinking about playing hero, just know that you're the reason the rest of these people are gonna die. Horribly and painfully."
I tell myself not to get involved, as I raise my hands and kneel down with the rest of the hostages. Aunt May's probably see this on the news later, and I don't need her to worry about me. She's gone through enough. But there's still that part of me, even after all these months, that's still reading the note Uncle Ben gave me. And I know that eventually, I'm probably going to have to get involved. "I'm inexperienced", I tell myself. "I'm not even eighteen yet". "I look ridiculous in that outfit and it kind of questions my sexuality". No excuse is gonna stop me.
"And just incase I didn't make myself clear enough..."
The leader then does something completely unexpected to anyone. He willingly drops his gun on the floor. Even I'm forced to tilt my head at that one, wondering what he's up to. These guys can't be this stupid, even if they are walking around in public dressed like that. That's whenever I realize that the glove he's wearing isn't any type of normal glove. Some kind of metal gauntlets wired to something underneath their suits are visibly present, and he's clutching it like a handle. That tingling in the back of my neck suddenly starts going haywire.
I'm not gonna like this, am I?
"...THIS IS WHY WE'RE CALLED THE SHOCKERS!"
Before any of us can react, the three of us that were facing the immediate wall - myself included - are knocked back by a wave of what I can only guess is concussive energy. A huge succession of vibrational force shoots down from his gauntlet and shatters the gun he was holding into a million pieces. By the time I hit the wall, there's nothing left of where it was laying but a smoking crater. And I suddenly want to pee myself. But what terrifies me isn't that he has a weapon like that, as I rise from the floor. What terrifies me is that, looking closely at each of the robbers, I start to realize that all of them have one.
Where the heck did they get their hands on technology that sophisticated?
"Hey! Back down on the ground!"
He points at me, and I quickly comply, partly out of not wanting my bones rendered into powder.
Okay, Parker. This is bad. This is really, really bad.
Got any ideas on how to make this really, really good?
Looking ahead, I spot a fire escape just a few feet away. Might trigger an alarm, but I could easily get in and get out before they even know what's happening. And I've already got the suit on under my clothes, thanks to watching multiple re-runs of Invincible: The Animated Series - which literally taught me every superhero code of conduct in existence. And he did say he had the cameras covered, so it's not like my identity's in danger...
Crap.
I'm gonna have to fight these guys.
I'm gonna have to fight these guys and not die.
"Sigh,", I whisper under my breath. "Look out, cause here comes the Spider-Man..."
To prevent this from happening again, I'm going to make it perfectly clear that, yes, Carnage has approval powers aswell. Infact, I consider it canon that he has pretty much all of the powers and authority that I do, so if I'm being an (insert your insult of choice here), he's the guy you go to. I'm also going to go ahead and amend the 48 hour rule now that the IC thread is up, because what's the point of competing for characters everyone has had time to think up and apply for?
So while I'm at it, MST's approved for The Joker, since Carnage approved of his take on it.
And Andy is approved for The Demon's Head/Doom aswell, because I'll be damned if anyone would have ever thought of that.
Now.
*deep breath*
Ultimate One Universe
Character Application
Character Name: Spider-Man/Peter Parker
Alignment (Hero, Villain, Walking the Line): Hero
Character Speech Font and Color: For this version, Bold Verdana Blue works for Spidey. Unbolded for when he's just plain ol' Peter.
Powers and Abilities: Having his DNA genetically spliced with that of a spider's granted Peter several characteristics of the animal, including...
- The ability to scale walls and stick to virtually any surface, through a complex set of virtually invisible tufts filled with rigid needlepoint hairs that extend from Peter's fingers to the bottom of his feet. Scientifically, these are called scopulae.
- Strength, stamina, agility and reflexes that are ten times that of a normal human's capabilities, dirived from an internal pressure system built into his muscles. This also allows him to jump for greater distances and keep a perfect balance on an otherwise unstable perch, such as rope and flagpoles.
- Small, retractable talons from each fingertip that each house an injectable non-lethal paralysis toxin. Peter's own personal fear of the toxin's capabilities keep it at the bottom of his priority powers to use, however, making it an ability of last resort.
- An amplified sensory gland that gives him a sixth sense of oncoming physical danger. Peter's limited understanding of it has prompted him to dub it "Spider-Sense".
- Enhanced visual perception that can allow for crystal clear daylight vision, and even nightvision capabilities.
- And lastly, perhaps even disturbingly, organic spinnerets internally grafted into the skin beneath his wrists that secrete a calcium-based silk webbing when pressure is applied to a specific connective vein. This allows Peter to sling the web for fast travel, aswell as provide him with an easy defensive mechanism.
Character Origin/Backstory: On assignment as a freelance photographer, 17-year-old Peter Parker was one of a few in attendance at a public demonstration of Star Labs' revolutionary new invention - the genetic sequencer. Developed by Doctor Curt Connors and Professor Martin Stein, after the former spent years trying to find a way to regrow his missing right arm through genetic splicing, the sequencer promised a radical new development in scientific research that would allow for the adaptive qualities in animal species to be applied to medical science. Peter was so transfixed by getting a good shot of the experiment in progress that he didn't notice a small spider as it dropped down on it's web behind him, landing squarely on his hand. However, in the midst of the demonstration, something went wrong. The machine malfunctioned and Connors ordered an emergency shutdown, but not before the sequencer released a field of unknown energies into the room. The malfunction scared the arachnid, who promptly bit Peter shortly before it died.
At first, he felt fine. Then he woke up in a hospital three weeks later, told that he'd been in a coma since the day of the incident. But astonishingly, Peter's bloodwork and CT scans determined that nothing was wrong, and the doctors chalked it up to an extreme allergic reaction to the spider's venom whenever he recounted what had happened. Eventually allowed to return to home to his Aunt May and Uncle Ben, life resumed for him as normal. Normal, being that he returned to being utterly invisible to ninety-eight percent of the student body at Midtown High. The two exceptions to the rule were Harry Osborn, whom Peter had been friends with since grade school, and Gwen Stacy, who had been his next door neighbor since they were five.
His life took an incredibly unexpected turn, however, when crossing the street on the way home from his first day back at Midtown. Almost as if he knew the car was coming for him before it turned the corner, Peter leaped out of the way of a speeding vehicle and landed squarely on the wall of a nearby building - and at least twenty feet off of the ground. Discovering he could crawl up the wall without falling, he naturally panicked and ran home, only to rip the front door's handle off of it's hinge without even trying. Fearing that he was developing a mutation, he kept silent about it to his Aunt and Uncle and immediately visited Star Labs the very next day.
Revealing the nature of his condition to Dr. Connors, Connors was amazed to discover that Peter's blood pallates were slowly transforming. Almost as if his DNA itself was slowly being rewritten. Realizing the boy was scared out of his mind, Curt began to realize what had happened and explained his theory - that the energy field from the genetic sequencer's malfunction had enhanced the spider venom in Peter's blood, splicing together his celluar structure with the arachnid's. Feeling an immense sense of guilt for what had happened, if that were the case, Connors promised to keep Peter's identity anonymous among his peers as they analyzed the blood sample to find a cure.
At first, Peter was afraid of his newfound power. But as this secret expanded his mind, opening him to an interest in science for the first time in his life, Peter began to revel in it. With every new ability he discovered, his excitement only increased. So much so that when he found himself tired of living anonymously, he sought to capitalize on his abilities, realizing his dead-end job as a photographer would never earn him the money to go to college. Taking up Connors' advice on staying anonymous, Peter donned a mask so that he wouldn't be recognized as he began filming a series of live webcasts, displaying his abilities for the entire world to see. Less than a week in, he was a viral sensation. Three weeks in, and the mysterious "Human Spider" was offered a unique opportunity - a chance to try out for the EWO, New York's indie wrestling division.
Throwing together a makeshift costume for his big entrance in the ring, Peter combined a red lycra jumpsuit he purchased off of eBay with a turquiose hoodie and drew a spider insignia across the chest. Determined to call himself The Scarlet Spider, or Spidercide - hell, even Spiderboy would work - he debuted a month later and easily pinned the World Heavyweight Champion, Crusher Hogan, in just under a minute. Offered a contract, the EWO manager put out an ad with a new name to go with Peter's unusual gimmick: The Spectacular Spider-Man.
The next few weeks were the greatest of Peter's life. No longer satisfied with being overlooked, his newfound confidence gave him the courage to ask out the most popular girl in school, Liz Allen. He was turned down, of course, and even laughed at - but the fact that he did it was enough to show himself that this newfound sense of power had really changed him for the better. Swelling with the fame, he began to spend more time in the ring as Spider-Man than he did living up to his responsibilities as Peter Parker. So after facing every big name on EWO's roster, from Bonesaw McGraw to Mark "Molten Man" Raxton, Peter was more than a little surprised to see it all go downhill with one argument. Confronted by his Uncle Ben, who'd been troubled by his recent behavior, Peter became enraged and acted out in frustration, running away from home in order to to attend his next match against a new talent.
That talent was Sergei Kravinoff. At first playing the part, even calling himself "The Hunter" when the promoter asked for his name, Kravinoff eventually showed his true intent whenever he went wild and attacked Spider-Man with a bowie knife, screaming about how he knew what the boy really was and that he'd become his prey, promising to end the abomination's life. Though it took a struggle, Peter overpowered him long enough for the police to arrest the deranged lunatic. But the botched scene of the match proved to be too much for EWO's managers, who fired Peter on the spot, convinced he'd attracted the wrong kind of attention for the organization.
Embittered, Peter tossed his Spider-Man outfit in a trash bin behind the arena as he left, feeling as if he'd been wronged. He was so lost in his own self-pity that he didn't even pay attention as an armed robbery took place infront of him on the way home, despite the gunman looking Peter dead in the eyes as he ran. The victims of the mugging chastised him for not even bothering to call the police, but Peter brushed it off as nothing and continued on, even stating that it wasn't his problem. By the time he returned home, though, he developed a much more serious problem that became evident by the scene of several squad cars surrounding his home. Storming in through the front door, Peter was shocked to find his Aunt May keeled over from a heart attack. Their neighbor and Gwen's father, Captain Stacy, explained to him that the heart attack had come as a result of the horrible news she'd just recieved: Ben had been killed in a carjacking in the city. And worse, it was because he was looking for Peter, who they'd discovered had ran off in the middle of the night.
He quickly learned of the location of the carjacker through GPS and, consumed by the thought of revenge, became determined to hunt him down, chasing him through the city and eventually managing to square off with his Uncle's killer in a warehouse in Brooklyn. It was the shock of Peter's life when he discovered that the man he had easily overcome was the same man he hadn't bothered to stop from mugging that couple when he had a chance. Distraught, he left the killer for the police and wandered off into the night.
Weeks passed, and Peter fell into a deep depression. Unable to leave his Aunt May's hospital room or even talk to anyone, it took an act of kindness on May's part to finally break through to him. Giving him a note that his Ben had wrote for him long ago whenever they'd started his college fund, Peter read his late Uncle's first - and ironically last - real words of wisdom for him. "This is for your future, Peter. And you have the power to make it your's. Don't waste it. Your father used to have a saying,", it read. "That with great power, comes great responsibility."
From that day forth, a hero was born.
What Makes This Version "Ultimate": For one thing, he isn't a science wiz. Peter only really got an interest in science because of what was happening to him, and he's hardly a genius on the subject. He also wasn't bullied so much as he was a social outcast, making him more of a normal kid who just happened to stumble backwards into some powers. Beyond that, however, I want to portray him as kind of a criss-cross between Ultimate and some of the modern Dan Slott stuff. Both to improve on some of the ideas Bendis put forth - particularly with the villains and supporting cast - and to pay homage to Spider-Man as I know and love him.
I've also written new and very detailed origins for most of his rogues gallery. And while I don't want to change Peter as a character too much, I do want to flip the script on a couple of big beats in the overall mythology, so nothing's really going to be the same apart from the very basic stuff. He's a teenager, he lost his Uncle Ben, learned that with great power must come great responsibility, and now he's Spider-Man. Everything going forward is completely up in the air.
What can you bring to the RPG: Hopefully a hell of alot more than I've been bringing to the games lately. I feel like I've overcome something by finally writing an app I'm mostly satisfied by, so I want to move ahead and get back into the swing of things - pun intended.
Sample Post (provide a short post of at least 3 paragraphs and 1 line of dialogue for your character):
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a robbery! So I expect all of you to remain calm and shut the hell up!"
Don't you just love it when everything goes according to plan?
No, really. Do you? Because I've never known what that feels like.
Take this sordid little display, for example. Here I am, wrong place at the wrong time, trying to cash a ludicrously small check from the last job I want to be doing in the world, and these clowns show up to make my day a little more convoluted than it already was. I recognize them immediately, given their goofy attire. They're what that jerk with the flat-top on The Daily Bugle keeps calling "The Shockers". Small-time crooks who recently made it to the big time whenever Herman Schultz, a scum to end all scumbags who like to do scumbaggy things, took over the empire of L. Thompson Lincoln. I don't know if they're doing it just to stand out amongst a sea of other crooks that have sprung up around Manhattan lately, or if they legitimately lack access to a mirror, but what makes them memorable are those bulky yellow and brown outfits that they were with pride. Seriously, they look like they were made from the ugliest quilt in the world. Seeing them up close for the first time is actually making it worse, because it looks like they really did sew together a bunch of ugly quits from an ugly quilt factory and wore them.
Not that I have much room to criticize.
I'm still learning how to sew my costume off of a cosplayer's Youtube channel.
"Alright, listen up, because here's how it's gonna go. Shock-1, here, is going to loot all of your valuables. Shock-2 is gonna man the door and watch for any cops,", their leader warns us, waving his gun around like your stereotypical movie villain. "The rest of us are gonna help ourselves to the contents of the vault. We already have the silent alarm and the cameras covered, so if any of you are thinking about playing hero, just know that you're the reason the rest of these people are gonna die. Horribly and painfully."
I tell myself not to get involved, as I raise my hands and kneel down with the rest of the hostages. Aunt May's probably see this on the news later, and I don't need her to worry about me. She's gone through enough. But there's still that part of me, even after all these months, that's still reading the note Uncle Ben gave me. And I know that eventually, I'm probably going to have to get involved. "I'm inexperienced", I tell myself. "I'm not even eighteen yet". "I look ridiculous in that outfit and it kind of questions my sexuality". No excuse is gonna stop me.
"And just incase I didn't make myself clear enough..."
The leader then does something completely unexpected to anyone. He willingly drops his gun on the floor. Even I'm forced to tilt my head at that one, wondering what he's up to. These guys can't be this stupid, even if they are walking around in public dressed like that. That's whenever I realize that the glove he's wearing isn't any type of normal glove. Some kind of metal gauntlets wired to something underneath their suits are visibly present, and he's clutching it like a handle. That tingling in the back of my neck suddenly starts going haywire.
I'm not gonna like this, am I?
"...THIS IS WHY WE'RE CALLED THE SHOCKERS!"
Before any of us can react, the three of us that were facing the immediate wall - myself included - are knocked back by a wave of what I can only guess is concussive energy. A huge succession of vibrational force shoots down from his gauntlet and shatters the gun he was holding into a million pieces. By the time I hit the wall, there's nothing left of where it was laying but a smoking crater. And I suddenly want to pee myself. But what terrifies me isn't that he has a weapon like that, as I rise from the floor. What terrifies me is that, looking closely at each of the robbers, I start to realize that all of them have one.
Where the heck did they get their hands on technology that sophisticated?
"Hey! Back down on the ground!"
He points at me, and I quickly comply, partly out of not wanting my bones rendered into powder.
Okay, Parker. This is bad. This is really, really bad.
Got any ideas on how to make this really, really good?
Looking ahead, I spot a fire escape just a few feet away. Might trigger an alarm, but I could easily get in and get out before they even know what's happening. And I've already got the suit on under my clothes, thanks to watching multiple re-runs of Invincible: The Animated Series - which literally taught me every superhero code of conduct in existence. And he did say he had the cameras covered, so it's not like my identity's in danger...
Crap.
I'm gonna have to fight these guys.
I'm gonna have to fight these guys and not die.
"Sigh,", I whisper under my breath. "Look out, cause here comes the Spider-Man..."
Last edited:
Carnage27
No one's puppet
- Joined
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Hound55
Byfar The Most Evil Thing
- Joined
- May 25, 2009
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Character Name:
Marc Spector. Sleeper agent of the Black Ops Project: Red Hood.
Alignment:
Walking the line.
Character Speech Font and Colour (Yes! Colour with a U, you Yank savages!):
[BLACKOUT]Blackout, white, Century Gothic[/BLACKOUT]
Powers and Abilities:
Proficient in hand-to-hand combat and combat with a wide array of weaponry, ranging from the modern to the ancient. Spector is a natural fighter with a history in the U.S. Marines as well as amateur boxing, but its the training that came with Project Red Hood which makes him a truly terrifying weapon of destruction.
In the training for Project: Red Hood Spector became an expert in urban, jungle and desert warfare, and was engrained with a scorched earth mentality to cause maximum damage to overawe the enemy. His Red Hood training also engrained efficiency of movement, sculpting his already natural acumen for fighting and turning him into a human weapon.
Character Origin/Backstory:
Childhood
Even as a small boy, Marc Spectors inner nature as a fighter showed its head as he would play War with his younger brother Randall. Marc knew from a young age exactly what he wanted to do with his life, and much of his childhood was spent dreaming of the day he would reach military age and could begin to travel the world in search of adventure.
His father, the rabbi Elias Spector, did not approve, but viewed it as the naïve flights of fancy of a child who would soon grow out of such crazy notions.
Adolescence
At the age of sixteen, unable to take the confines of his fathers house Marc Spector attempted to enlist with the U.S. Military. Unfortunately, the rules and regulations of the modern military are considerably more strictly enforced than they were in the days of Bucky Barnes and WWII.With more accountability for recruiters, his forged documentation (a fake drivers licence, with no birth certificate or any other documentation on file) was quickly dismissed and he was returned to his house by representatives of the U.S. Army.
Between this and the discovery by his father that Marc was competing at a local gym in off-the-books boxing matches for money, he was summarily kicked out of home.
Jason Todd
Having been kicked out of his home, Spector had little more to rely on than his fake drivers licence in the name of Jason Todd. Out of necessity he took a job driving a cab, taking fares and often living out of the car.With little expenses other than food, Spector as Todd was able to survive the streets despite bouncing between hostels, shelters and the cab itself.Spector learned numerous skills in surviving on the streets, and even decided to wait an additional year so that he could enlist in the Marines, having childishly spurned the US Army for how they handled his last attempt to enlist.
U.S. Marines
Served two tours. Quickly reached level of Sergeant.Incident resulted in Other Than Honourable Discharge.Details of incident redacted, under provision of plea and agreement to partake in other service.
Project Red Hood
In the wake of the public assassination of General Montgomery Kelly online a group of individual private concerns (together named The Committee in order to protect identities and ties to any one private company) sought to create a modern day Super Soldier program for a new era of war.
Viewing Captain America as a moderate success, which could be considered more successful due to the era and war he was designed for, The Committee sought to create a countenance to terrorist action and the murkier areas of modern warfare. The project was named Red Hood in light of the fact that General Kelly was unhooded and beheaded in the online video.
The first requirement, which was unanimously agreed upon, was that the protypical soldier would require a significantly more flexible morality. As such, it was agreed that the selected test subjects would be required to undertake a course of psychotropic designer drugs in order to attain the right attitude to be a useful resource for the Project.
In order to get close to cells and other targets, it was agreed that the soldier of the future must also be capable of functioning as a sleeper. Alternate identities were created for Spector, with top of the line documentation and plausible resources provided for each.Identities varied from Jake Lockley, Detective Miles Knight, and a sizable amount was provided for Steven Grant (under conditions pertaining to Spector joining Project Red Hood).
Spector was primed with a sizable amount of training in urban, desert, arctic and jungle warfare and mind-bending drugs. The first product of Red Hood was set upon one of Americas enemies; the almost mythic Demons Head, who was known to be participating in activities in Southern Egypt rumoured to be in search of equally mythic Lazarus pits.
Red Hood Down
Contact is lost with Spector, around the site of an archaeological dig. When last heard from, Spector was going to engage members of Dooms private army, having identified a known lieutenant Raoul Bushman.Lines of communication were lost and measures were beginning to be taken to close off responsibility for any action in the region, when Spector was heard from
Having set the desert ablaze and abducting a female civilian Marlene Alraune; identified as an archaeologist in the region.
Spector took no measures to maintain a low key profile, and destroyed the basecamp established by The Demons Head several miles away. Ruining an opportunity to make a targeted strike on Victor Von Doom himself, whom intelligence suggested would be visiting the site for his own purposes.
Most Recent Profile Fallout of Project Red Hood
Recent findings suggest that Spector believes himself to have been resurrected by an entity an Egyptian deity called Khonshu which represents Vengeance and the moon during the lost time in Egypt. Related unpredictable behaviour has also been occurring.It is believed that this is the result of side effects from the drugs that Spector was exposed to, in light of this Project: Red Hood has been shut down after the first wave of trials.
Intelligence suggests that Marc Spector is suffering memory loss and has limited recall of Project: Red Hood. How Spector will respond as fragmented memory gradually is restored without context is unknown.
Bringing Spector in is considered risky and not cost-effective in light of the shut-down project.
Recommendation: Neutralize Spector.
What Makes This Version Ultimate:
Part Jason Todd, part Moon Knight sifted through a Jason Bourne-esque filter we have a broken man trying to find his place in a world that doesnt have room for what he has become.
What Can You Bring to the RPG:
[YT]r7Vp0VtcT6M[/YT]
Sample Post:
Roughly 40km South of Tataouine, TUNISIA
[BLACKOUT]Credit cards, gone. What is this? Phone?[/BLACKOUT]
Marc took the phone from the blonde girls handbag, whilst she drove the 4x4.
Its off. She replied.
[BLACKOUT]Not enough.[/BLACKOUT] He said, opening the back and pulling the battery out.
[BLACKOUT]Were going to have to fly out. Theyll have this location and where we last were. Well take the first flight out of Tunis to put some space between us.[/BLACKOUT]
But the credit cards. How are we going to get the
Marc smiled enigmatically. [BLACKOUT]Ill take care of it.[/BLACKOUT]
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Andy C.
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Doom will also enjoy molding Wayne's bastard son into a ruthless murder-machine to suit Doom's purposes.
Carnage27
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Bruce is going to buy Latveria and use it as a toxic waste dump.
Carnage27
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Still looks better than your face!
Carnage27
No one's puppet
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