[CENTER][h1][color=Gray][b]Parker[/b][/color][/h1] [img]http://i.imgur.com/q5iYE56.jpg[/img] [sup]“I'm only the messenger!" "Now you're the message", Parker told him and shot him. [img]IMAGE/BANNER[/img] [/sup][h3][sup][sup][color=gray]Unknown [color=gray]♦[/color] 5/5/1975 ( 42) [color=gray]♦[/color] Male [color=gray]♦[/color] Neutral Evil[/color][/sup][/sup][/h3][img]IMAGE/BANNER[/img] [/CENTER] [COLOR=gray][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]C O N C E P T A B S T R A C T:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][/COLOR][INDENT] [INDENT]I essentially want to tell heist/hard boiled crime stories within the confines of the universe. Parker is a perfect conduit for that, a travelling thief who can interact with many characters in the game. I know I have one story arc I'd like to do involving Gotham and Catwoman, another and the Flash rogues in Central City.[/indent][/indent] [COLOR=gray][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]N O T E S:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][/COLOR][INDENT][INDENT][i] I guess just so say that I'm going to be playing a lean character with a lean supporting cast so I'm open to interaction[/i][/indent][/indent] And because I had to... a post sample, originally written as a Parker post before Guildfall: [hider=Strangers in the Night] Central New Jersey 2:12 AM Tracy Lawless was mad as hell. He drove down the freeway in the middle of the night, checking his rearview mirror every few seconds for any new cars that may have appeared behind him. He saw the two big duffle bags in the mirror, each one stuffed to the brim with cash. Tracy wore a coat that hid the body armor strapped to his chest. Dried blood was caked on his hands. It wasn't his blood. He fumed and kept the hunk of junk he was driving at seventy. His Charger was back in the city. It was too conspicuous to be used as a getaway car today. The radio in the car played some god awful country music. He reached over and cruised up and down the dial until he found a talk radio show giving the news. "One man is still at large after today's daring daytime bank robbery of the 5th Avenue Chase Bank. Masked and armed with automatic weapons, the five men came in during the lunchtime hour and made off with over nine hundred thousand dollars in twenties, fifties, and hundreds. Police soon arrived on the scene and gun battle took place, killing four of the robbers before the fifth masked man took off with the money through midtown, where he lost pursuing police in a high-speed chase." Tracy listened to the rest of the news story with half-concentration. There were no leads on his whereabouts, and so far they hadn't publically identified the rest of his crew. Everyone but him was dead, gunned down by the cops. One of them blew Jack Legs' brains out before the guy could even move. Blood had spattered Tracy's chest and arms. They showed up way too fast for Tracy's taste. They were promised more time to get the money and get out there, but they didn't get that time. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. Tommy the Cork. Goddamn Tommy the Cork had sold them out, the son of a *****. He'd given his word they would have at least five minutes before the police arrived. The fat bastard must have gotten greedy and double-crossed them. The odds on Tommy being there at the farmhouse waiting was too unlikely. Tracy was the only one left alive and he had the money. He was too big of a loose end, and no way cops would be there for an arrest. Tommy wanted that money all to himself. An hour later he turned off the freeway and headed down a Southern Jersey highway towards the established rendezvous point. He could just keep going. He had the money, for Christ sake. But he didn't want to do that. He wanted to pay Tommy back for what he had done, the bastard. Tracy started to slow the junk heap down as the farmhouse got nearer. The time for the meeting was supposed to be four AM, an hour from now, but he was sure Tommy was already hiding somewhere in the dilapidated barn. Tracy pulled to the side of the road twenty miles from the farm and got out. He lugged the two duffle bags filled with cash into the woods beside the road and left them there. He got a tire iron out of the trunk and placed it in the ground beside the highway, marking the place for his return trip, and got back in the car. A half hour later he came to an old and rotting farmhouse and barn. He pulled into the driveway and slowly pulled up to the old barn. A parked sedan was waiting beside the barn. The windows were rolled down, and Tracy could hear a golden oldies station playing Tommy James and the Shondells. Tracy reached into his jacket and got out the submachine gun he'd used at the bank. Keeping it low, he stepped out the car and approached the parked car. "Not so fast," a voice said from behind. He felt a hard something in his back. A pudgy hand slapped the submachine gun from his hand and spun Tracy around. He looked into the fat and gloating face of NYPD Inspector Thomas Corcoran, head of the department's prestigious Special Robbery Unit. He was also supposed to be their inside man in the bank robbery. His job was to get them plans and details about the bank and surrounding area and provide them protection from the cops. He had done the first part well, but failed spectacularly in the second regard. "You sold us out," Tracy said calmly. "I just did some simple math," Corcoran said with a large grin. "This money divides up better one way than six. That is, after I give the Kingpin his cut." "And you'll think he'll just abide you double-crossing us like this?" "I'll tell him you pulled the double-cross. Tried to skip out with the money after it went sideways. I caught you in the nick of time, though, but see you fought back and I had to kill you. Damn shame. It's a stupid move, but you're a Lawless, kid. Stupid is your middle name." Tracy felt white-hot rage at the last part. It was all he could do right now to not try to fight Corcoran, even with the gun aimed at him. Instead, Tracy kept his hands up as Corcoran backed away from him and shuffled towards the junk heap. Tracy stayed as still as he could while the fat man looked through the back of the car for the cash. "Where is it, Lawless?!" "In the trunk. I got the key right here." Corcoran stared at him through the dark and started towards him. Just then, Frank Sinatra came on the radio and crooned. "Strangers in the night exchanging glances Wondering in the night what were the chances, We'd be sharing love before the night was through?" Corcoran began to rifle through Tracy's jacket pockets and found no keys. The cop started in through Tracy's pants pockets. He dropped the gun a few inches, focusing on getting the car keys from Tracy's jeans. "Something in your eyes was so inviting Something in you smile was so exciting Something in my heart told me I must have you." Snarling like a wild animal, Tracy struck and slapped at Corocran's gun. The piece went off twice, bullets snapping by Tracy's ear as they whizzed into the air. The gun fell to the ground with a dull thud. Corcoran tried to reach for it, but he was short and fat, a good six inches shorter and fifty pounds heavier than Tracy. He proved no match for Tracy's strong grip. He hit the cop upside the head with a glancing blow to the skull. Corcoran stumbled back and Tracy hit him with a right hook that knocked him to the ground. Tracy pinned him to the ground with his knees and held him close, his big hands wrapping around Tommy's fat neck. "Strangers in the night, two lonely people We were strangers in the night. Up to the moment when we said our first hello, little did we know Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away" Tommy fought and tried to get his hands underneath Tracy's. He struggled and thrashed, tried to claw at Tracy's eyes and mouth. The more he struggled, the more oxygen he burned through and made his death that quicker. Tracy throttled Corcoran's neck for a solid ten minutes, so long that he left rub burns from twisting his big hands around the windpipe. He made sure that there was no life left in the man at all. For what the bastard had done to his crew, it was the least he could do. "Ever since that night we've been together Lovers at first sight, in love forever It turned out so right for strangers in the night." Tracy took Corcoran's corpse and locked it in the trunk of his car, parking the sedan inside the rotten barn before he got into his own car and drove back to where he had the money stashed. He got the two big duffle bags out the woods, took the tire iron marker, and kept going south so he could find a place to lay low for the next few weeks. [/hider]