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Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
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The flag used is a modified version of the Australasian Flag that was used in the 1908 and 1912 Summer Olympics. Which would put it post-Federation, yet still perhaps in the minds of a sports-mad Australian culture. The addition is an 8-point star on a red banner, representing the people of the initial 8 states of the expanded Australia: Western Australia, South Australia, Queensland, New South Wales, Victoria, Tasmania and Northern New Zealand and Southern New Zealand.
The 8 point star also represents the compass points, bringing together all of the peoples of the south Pacific region under the Union Jack...
The 8 point star also represents the compass points, bringing together all of the peoples of the south Pacific region under the Union Jack...
THE COMMONWEALTH OF AUSTRALIA
"Australia has once been perilously near to the brink of disaster. No nation, even Britain, has been in greater danger in invasion and yet lacked the resources to defend itself." - Former Labor Prime Minister John Curtin, 3rd of February, 1943
After enabling militia to serve in a limited capacity in the Pacific South West.
Conscription was very much against Labor Party policy.
After enabling militia to serve in a limited capacity in the Pacific South West.
Conscription was very much against Labor Party policy.
Recent History:
With no definitive winner of the Great War, the people of Australia have been left cynical towards the Crown's ability to defend her native sons and daughters from over 15,000 kilometres away - as the crow flies. And that's before you factor in how well conscripted members of the armed forces were put to use by British officers in highly questionable situations such as Gallipoli. Followed by the country being very much left to fend for itself as returning soldiers brought back the Spanish flu, which led to even more loss of life and between a quarter and a third of the population getting pneumonia.
The results were the Anzac nations of Australia and New Zealand realized they would be best served by uniting as a single nation so that Defence could be more effectively utilised, as both countries seemed to have mostly similar values and a somewhat shared history. The Statute of Westminster providing the autonomy required for the former colonies to act. Australia swung heavily to Nationalism. Under a new party comprising of many Commonwealth Liberal Party members, but with reputable Labor head Billy Hughes pushed to the front in a leadership capacity. Once known to all as an incredible British imperialist, he saw the need for greater self-determination and the means to protect itself as its own service to the auld country.
Australia offered the former Nation of New Zealand a questionable deal. They could either join as a single new state of New Zealand and receive only twelve senators, or it would be permitted to double its level of autonomy by entering Australia as two states - Northern New Zealand and Southern New Zealand - with the cost being the expectation of greater economic burden. New Zealand, also valuing greater autonomy after the events of the war jumped at the chance for larger representation in the Upper House - viewing this new expanded nation to be in the best long term interests of maintaining New Zealander and British ideals and culture in the Pacific. This decision has led to Republicans and Maori natives wondering if The Right Honourable William Massey, the Reform Party of New Zealand Prime Minister, had just swapped one yoke around the country's neck for another, and began some bitter sentiment towards what would come to be known as 'Mainlanders'. Massey did however manager to secure one final policy point - that Maori citizens would still maintain their right to vote (gained way back in the 1860s) under this new expanded Australian aegis. A right that thus far had not extended to the Aboriginal Australian populations. On the topic of Maori seats in parliament, Massey was basically told "You get twelve senators per state, how you divide them is up to the people of New Zealand." and was not granted any special treatment in the House of Representatives - as the House seats are to remain relative to the population. To get this through the Maori were granted two of the twelve senators in both the Northern and Southern Islands. Previously, Maori electorates made up about 1 in 20 of the general New Zealand parliament, or around 5%. This 5 percent was gone in the lower house of parliament, but replaced with roughly 16% of New Zealand's upper house vote. This sounded fine on paper, but Maori soon became disenfranchised as they were largely outnumbered in the Senate by Mainlander senators, and white nationalism began to spread in New Zealand's southern island where it was felt by many that the Maori were over-represented as over 80% of the Maori population lived in the North Island and both island were granted two Maori senators.
In addition to this, it was agreed upon by unwritten rule, that should an Australian reside over the seat of the Prime Ministership of the Commonwealth, there would sit a New Zealander in the position of Governor General and vice versa. With the importance of showing unity amonst the two held of paramount importance.
With New Zealand now on board, "the Little Digger" as Prime Minster Billy Hughes was affectionately known, turned to the task of expanding the defence force. As Australia was now "Eight States Girt By Sea", it became immediately obvious that the main priorities were maximising the Royal Australian Navy, and rapidly enlisting and training the next generation's fighting force. The former was acheived by sending back to Britain for current cutting edge naval ship designs, whilst simultaeously developing an engineering force who would be able to build them once designs were brought back by steamer. To train a fresh set of engineers he injected a large amount of money into a South Australian saddlery company who were looking to transition into the automotive industry and the Holden Motor Company was born. They rapidly expanded and trained a new workforce, and with the sizable investment the 48-215 was soon born, with 5 prototypes and just under a dozen pilot cars coming out before they were ready for mass-production, and whilst the mid-sized, three-speed sedan was somewhat derivative and not terribly impressive in and of itself. What was impressive was how quickly the engineers were able to produce a functioning car, and how much they were able to learn from their first attempt. Their second attempt, the FJ was an enormous hit and very quickly flooded the streets. Holden engineers and workers were the talk of the country, and the Australian government handpicked select engineers to work side-by-side with naval engineers to get to work on expanding the Royal Australian Naval fleet with budding ingenuity and innovation.
Also looking to expand on this development and innovation field, Billy Hughes pumped in money to develop a new agency responsible for scientific discovery and research - the CSIRO. With the outbreak of Spanish Flu following the war, it seemed too important to get left behind on the scientific front. He also saw great value in the trend towards aviation innovation, putting forward £10,000 reward for the first person to successfully fly from the United Kingdom to Australia in less than 30 days. After Hughes' tenure even further investment was put into the aviation industry in general as both hard and soft power - with the development of the CAC Wirraway, followed by the CAC Boomerang and the CA-25 Winjeel trainer which gave way to the CA-26 and CA-27 Sabres, as well as the nationalisation of Qantas.
Many leading economists suggest that it was sizable investments into the defense, aviation and automotive industries by Labor leaders like John Curtin and, after Curtin's death-in-office, Ben Chifley, along with mining, metal processing, textiles/clothing/footwear and chemicals which provided an environment of high production (yet less reliant on exports), full employment and the heavy stimulus which saw Australia through the Great Depression mostly unscathed - a unique situation for the country which often saw it's economy rocked so heavily by natural forces such as drought, flood and infestation from introduced species.
But the lines between the Labor Party and the Communist Party were becoming blurred. Years earlier the inauguration of the famed Sydney Harbour Bridge, a masterpiece of ingenuity that showcased Australian design, engineering, steel and construction industries, had been marred by The New Guard - A far right Nationalist movement who were strongly opposed to communists and New South Wales' Labor Premier Jack Lang in particular. A few left-leaning politicians would waver between stints at the Australian Labor Party (ALP) and the Industrial Socialist Labor Party (ISLP). In 1947, the Liberal Party were able to exploit this as Labor Prime Minster Ben Chifley went too far, and attempted to nationalise the banks. The High Court found this unconstitutional, the press and middle class Australians saw it as a bridge too far towards communism and it opened up an opportunity for the National Liberal Party. Chifley did however manage to pass the Commonwealth Bank Acts of '45 which gave the government control over monetary policy and allowed them to establish the Commonwelth Bank of Australia.
The strikes in the waning years of the 1940s in both Queensland's rail and the coal industry brought unemployment and hardship. Chifley responded by barring rail workers on strike from obtaining unemployment benefits. And sent in army troops to break the coal strike. This was because Chifley viewed these strikes as efforts by the Communist party to splinter Labor support and supplant them as the party of the working man. National Liberal Party leader Robert Menzies exploited Red hysteria to portray the Labor party as soft on communism, pointing at recent banking policy. Chifley was in a difficult position, under attack from both the right and left, and was unable to thread the needle of making a successful argument to the Australian people that "to the contrary, Labor is a bulwark against communism" and that the most effective way of weakening the strength of the Communist party is to improve the conditions of the people. The Australian people didn't buy it, neither on the mainland now across the Tasman, and Bob Menzies was able to secure the election. With Chifley barely being able to cling to a senate majority.
Chifley proved to continue to be a thorn in Menzies side from the Senate, where he remained as Labor leader and often was able to confound the Prime Minister, passing Labor amendments or outright blocking legislation. Menzies chose to respond to this by riding his high popularity at the time, looking to trap Chifley in a double dissolution election by introducing a bill to ban the Communist Party of Australia. He expected Chifley to reject it, opening up the opportunity to attack Chifley once more as being soft on communism at the ensuing election. Instead, Chifley zagged and passed it with a re-draft, and allowed the High Court to kill the bill as invalid - six justices to one. Menzies was later able to get his double dissolution election however, as he introduced legislation to change Chifley's Commonwealth Banking Bill. However, some damage had been done in the public's eyes towards Menzies with his attempt to kill the Communist party, regardless of whether the people would be willing to vote for the Communist Party his decision struck at the Aussie ideals of "a fair go". Menzies high popularity barely saw him scrape through, but not without losing seats to Labor. He did however achieve his plan of knocking out Chifley and the Labor Senate majority, and was now free to start moulding his vision for Australia into the '50s.
With the Royal Australian Air Force and Royal Australian Navy seeing massive expansion, Bob Menzies turned to expand the Australian Army. Still smarting from the previous election, Menzies chose to do this in a way to avoid conscription where possible. Sensing growing dissatisfaction from the Aboriginal population due to the vast disparity in rights between Aboriginal, Torres Strait and Pacific Islander rights and Maori rights, Menzies passed legislation that would enable Aboriginal and Islanders voting rights in return for Military service. He also saw the benefit of strategic allied naval ports, and began diplomatic proceedings to further expand the Australian Commonwealth to other Pacific Neighbours. Fiji was the first nation to join, in return for six senate seats and the written condition that their population would always be rounded up for an additional seat in the House of Representatives. Samoa and Papua New Guinea began murmurings of their desire for independence (Samoa having been 'roped in' to the Commonwealth under New Zealand rule) and were given two senate seats each as they were viewed as 'territories' of Australia and New Zealand. Both also received the 'round up' Lower House stipulation and this degree of self-determination mostly kept things orderly. Tonga was a different proposition, but was happy for their status as a 'Protected State' of the United Kingdom be diverted to the regional Commonwealth of Australia. They remained a constitutional monarchy of their own, with Australia holding right to veto over foreign policies and finances... but seldom, if ever actually exercising that right. That desire to be left to their own devices swung both ways, however. They have no say in greater Commonwealth politics. With fears spreading through mainland Australians that their politics were about to be overrun with representatives from the island Nations. In response Menzies made two changes. First, that any new additions would receive the 'round up' rule in the House of Representatives providing they existed as a 'whole' nation prior (no 'splintering' grouped island states in an attempt to garner more political influence), but would only be represented by three new general Pacific Islander senators. Secondly, in a blatantly cynical move, Bob Menzies awarded two senators to a thusfar unrepresented territory - the Australian Antarctic Territory. With no permanent population in Antarctica, these were basically filled by the government's whim. Whilst particularly unfair, since the people who are IN Antarctica at any moment in time and are capable of voting there, do so at the Government's discretion, it's not technically unconctitutional since they are still 'free' elections otherwise.
The year is now 1955, Robert Menzies is still Prime Minister of the Commonwealth of Australia, under his hand he now looks to direct the country into a new era of private enterprise and self-sufficiency. His Liberal Party controls both the Upper and Lower Houses, albeit by a slim margin. Now is the time for growth. The time for Australia to spread its wings and grow beyond it's quite heavily regulated economy, the time for Menzies show his power and grow his popularity amongst the Australian people.
Government
House of Representatives:
301 Seats - Proportional to Population, with former island nations getting 'rounded up' in seats.
Populations at 1955:
Australia (mainland and Tasmania) - Roughly 9.25 million
New Zealand - 2.13 million
Papua New Guinea - 2.09 million
Fiji - 335,000
Solomon Islands - 102,000
Samoa - 94,000
French Polynesia - 69,000
New Caledonia - 68,000
Vanuatu - 55,000
Cook Islands - 16,000
Senate (Sixty seven senators in total):
Mainland Australia (6 WA, 6 SA, 6 QLD, 6 NSW, 6 VIC, 2 NT, 2 ACT) - 34 senators
New Zealand - 12 senators
Tasmania (generally views self as 'mainland') - 6 Senators
Fiji - 6 senators
Samoa - 2 Senators
Papua New Guinea - 2 Senators
General Pacific Islanders - 3 senators
Australian Antarctic Territory - 2 Senators
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Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
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I R O N F I S T
Orson Randall, Older than Dirt (b. 1890 - kept young by the chi of Shou-Lao the Undying)Protector of K'un L'un
Adventurer, Former WWI soldier
"Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn..."
- From 'For the Fallen', by Laurence Binyon
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn..."
- From 'For the Fallen', by Laurence Binyon
Character Concept
In the late nineteenth century, revolutionary scientist/mechanical genius Phineas Randall, deemed to circumnavigate the world in his colossal airship. With an incredible stroke of fate, Phineas crashed into the mythical heavenly city of K'un L'un during the brief window where it aligned with our dimension on Earth.
Healers did their best to save the life of Phineas wife, at that time eight months pregnant, but were only able to save the child. Their new son, Orson.
Phineas was brought before the Yu-Ti, the Dragon Kings and the Gods of K'un L'un as they demanded an explanation for his desecration of the Holy City and asked what he could offer in recompense. Presumably unable to pay, Phineas was put to work.
Meanwhile, the son, Orson was left to roam the streets, the outsider often getting picked on by local children. Until Lei Kung the Thunderer saw potential in the young boy. His spirit was strong. He had become hardened to their bullying. The Thunderer took Orson Randall into his tutelege. He began on his path to find The Way.
So much so, that when the Heavenly City next reunited with the Earthly plane he chose to stay in K'un L'un of his own volition. All he knew was there.
Over the next cycle his mastery of the martial arts slowly became more refined. He was a naturally spirited fighter, but was more of a blunt implement than most. As many young students of K'un L'un would learn to counter with flow, Orson would find a way to persevere through spite and grit. He seldom met a challenge he couldn't bear down on and break face first, and in those instances where he did, he was generally resourceful enough to shift marginally and just change the point of attack. For that had always been enough.
So much so, that Orson Randall had been able to sweep through the field in K'un L'un's tournament for the right to face Shou-Lao the Undying. A fight that would bring the young man face to face with a real dragon; a being of fire, fang, myth and magic.
Still the young man was able to best this challenge, and in doing so, would plunge his hands in the dragon's heart and become the next IRON FIST - PROTECTOR OF K'UN L'UN. For whatever that would mean. The city was an oasis hanging between dimensional planes, aside from the occasional attack from H'ylthri, which generally even the farmers could make short work of themselves.
The time had come, once again, for K'un L'un to realign itself with the Earth. This time Orson would be sent out into the world, to round out his learning. A twenty year old child, left to discover the world beyond the walls.
Orson had an adventurous spirit, and managed to find others of a similar mind. They formed the Confederates of the Curious, and would travel the world in Phineas Randall's airship doing many great things.
But then, one day, the 28th of June, 1914, a bullet stopped the clockwork mechanics of the world.
Gavrilo Princeps shot the Archduke Franz Ferdinand.
In a month to the day Austro-Hungary declares war on Serbia.
In four more days Germany declares war with Russia.
In two more days Germany declares war on France.
Less than forty-eight hours later Britain declares war on Germany.
And a man born off world, for violence, jumps into the fray. His will, as with his fists, like unto a thing of iron!
But iron, whilst strong, can be brittle... and for as strong and imposing a force of will Orson possessed, even those closest to him could see that he'd never mastered the flexibility. The flow. For proper balance.
And so, when the mechanist's son entered the meatgrinder of the trenches in The Great War, he snapped under the sheer weight of death and darkness of man's violence unto man.
This was the man who would return to K'un L'un as the dimensional planes shifted. A man who trudged a different walk and smelled richly of drink and the poppy. Drenched in the desire to forget. A born and trained fighter who had seen too much fighting.
But he must fight. For now has come the Tournament of the Heavenly Cities! The contest which determines the divine mechanics of the Heavenly cities and their intersection with the Mortal plane!
But he has seen too much violence, too much fighting. And so the Iron Fist of K'un L'un refuses.
However, refusal is not an option. The Immortal weapons of the seven cities are sent to bring forth the Iron Fist of K'un L'un and force his participation...
But then tragedy.
Orson Randall, sharpening rapidly out of an opium-induced haze from the surprise attack on his person and the chi of Shou-Lao ever-flowing through his chakras, inadvertantly killed the Immortal Weapon of K'un-Zi!
Such a crime could only have one sentence, but when Lei Kung the Thunderer was sent for the execution he found himself unable to kill the drunk, drug-addled wretch which Orson Randall had become. He went back and told the Yu-Ti and the leadership of the Heavenly cities it was done. That Orson Randall, once the Champion of K'un L'un was gone and would not be back.
With K'un-Zi left without a champion the tournament was delayed until K'un Zi could produce a new one. K'un L'un was left without dimensional cycling back to Earth until such allowances could be made to restore K'un-Zi's honour.
Orson Randall was indeed gone. He had fled with the Book of the Iron Fist. In his drug-addled state he foolishly believed this theft could prevent the cycle of violence that was the legacy of the Iron Fist from coming to pass. Of course it could not, it was just a book. A text made of dragon scale and "Immortal ink". The egg still in the tomb of Shou-Lao the Undying remained and continued to gestate.
Orson looked to keep himself hidden. For whilst K'un L'un would not be in the celestial clockwork, he was hated by ALL of the seven cities. He kept himself sedated and withdrawn in a series of opium dens throughout the Orient, lest any sense the mystical presence of the chi of Shou-Lao the Undying.
He dreamed away the Second World War, a Civil War and afterwards the First Five Year Plan of the Maoists. As China implemented a Great Leap Forward the dragon within stirred in a way it hadn't in years.
Orson Randall awoke to a new nightmare.
The chi of Shao-Lao the Undying broke his slumber, he sensed a new dragon had been born.
But that shouldn't be possible unless...
The Heavenly Cities were once again realigning with the Earth for their Tournament.
But that would be none of Orson's concern, except...
This new Chinese leader, this Chairman Mao. He had been destroying Buddhist temples, and monuments of various faiths all across their lands, which they considered to include from the Pacific, across the Mekong to Tibet. The CCP had heard legend from monks who spoke of an Immortal Heavenly city which would breach this plane of reality periodically.
But he was just one man, and this was an army, and he'd seen such violence already.
But just as always the words and wisdom of Lei Kung the Thunderer and he new he couldn't turn his back on his people, the Heavenly Cities and their ways.
This is one man's path to inner and outer peace.
The Way of the Iron Fist.
Key Notes
Roughly 1890
1900
1908
1910
1910-1914
Mid-1914
Late-1914
1918
1920
1921
1927-1937
1939-1945
1945-1949
1951
1958-1962
1959
1966
- Orson Randall is born through mystical means in K'un L'un after his father's accident.
1900
- Orson Randall turns down the opportunity to escape this strange world as the dimensional planes first realign.
1908
- A young Orson Randall wins the tournament for the right to face Shou-Lao the Undying. Defeats the Dragon. Becomes Iron Fist of K'un L'un.
1910
- Orson Randall is sent out into the world, to further round out his experience and learning on Earth as the dimensional planes once again realign.
1910-1914
- Time spent Adventuring. Confederates of the Curious.
Mid-1914
- World War I kicks off.
Late-1914
- Orson Randall enlists in World War I for Her Majesty's Army.
1918
- Conclusion of World War I
1920
- Orson Randall returns to K'un L'un as the dimensional planes realign with Earth.
1921
- Communist Party of China founded.
1927-1937
- Chinese Civil War - First Phase.
1939-1945
- World War II. Orson Randall not present, spent most of his days in various opium dens.
1945-1949
- Chinese Civil War - Second Phase. Republic of China driven out to Taiwan.
1951
- The Seventeen Point Agreement for the Peaceful Liberation of Tibet is signed by representatives of the 14th Dalai Lama and the Central People's Government of the People's Republic of China. The situation surrounding which this document was signed will not be described here...
1958-1962
- The Great Leap Frward (the Second Five Year Plan) is implemented by the CCP.
1959
- 1959 Tibetan Uprising quashed. A rebellion broke out as rumours abound regarding plans to arrest the Dalai Lama. 87,000 Tibetans killed. 2,000 Chinese killed squashing the Rebellion. The Dalai Lama managed to flee to northern India. The aftermath saw thousands of monks arrested and or executed, and monasteries and temples looted or destroyed.
1966
- The Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution is launched by Chairman Mao Tse Tung of the Chinese Communist Party. Between August and November 1966, eight rallies are held before over 12 million people, in which Lin Biao called for the 'Destruction of the Four Olds' (namely customs, culture, habits and ideas), in the resulting revolutionary fever Red Guards destroyed, laid siege to the Temple of Confucius in Shandong as well as other significant tombs and artefacts. Libraries full of historical and foreign texts were destroyed, books burned, statues vandalised. Temples, churches, mosques, monasteries, and yes, even cemeteries were closed down, often looted or destroyed. Many members of the clergy were arrested and sent to camps, Tibetan Buddhists were made to watch, and often forced to contribute, to the destruction of their monasteries at gunpoint.
TBD
TBD
References / Sample Post
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Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
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H A W K E Y E
H A W K E Y E
H A W K E Y E
"Hydra? Did you see that move? They don't teach moves like that in Hydra school, pal! You picked the wrong team! Hail Hawkeye!" - The Inimitable Clinton Francis Barton
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Clint Francis Barton |  _________________________________________________________ 6'3" (191cm) | 230lbs (105kg) _________________________________________________________ Male, Caucasian | Justice League Hero, Your Sister's Favourite Adventurer, All-Round General Hunk _________________________________________________________ Waverly | Iowa | U.S.A C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - K E Y C H A N G E S T O C O N T I N U I T Y ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► S.H.I.E.L.D ties are gone. Personally, never thought it fit with Clint's personality-type anyway. ► Black Widow ties are also gone. Timeline doesn't really fit with the Cold War, also a casualty of the S.H.I.E.L.D ties going. ► Redemption arc kept more linear with circus history/origins, rather tham Widow-related crimes. ► I intend to use another character in her place as more of the femme fatale role that's more suited to these changes - Princess Python (in case anyone was looking to collaborate and was disappointed at the Black Widow absence) E Q U I P M E N T & S K I L L S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Sky-Cycle - Designed as a parting gift by Tony Stark, for Clint's use. ► Custom-made bow and various specialty-made arrowheads of his own design (fabricated by Stark), quick release quiver that aligns custom arrowheads to modular shafts, combat knife, shortsword that runs the length of the quiver to provide a rigid 'spine'. ► Hawkeye is quite possibly the greatest bowman in the world. He is also a prodigious talent with a sword, having been trained by the preeminent talents in archery and swordsmanship. He is naturally acrobatic, albeit not on the level of a specialised acrobat like, say, Dick Grayson. He has trained himself to be an excellent martial artist, due to having trained with Captain America on a regular basis combined with his competitive spirit. Whilst not being tradionally educated, he has displayed a level of unorthodox creativity which makes him an extremely challenging tactician for his opponents to strategize for. - P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G - P O S T C A T A L O G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ - | C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T Born in small town Iowa to local butchers Harold and Edith Barton, Harold liked to drink too much and would take his issues with the world out on Edith, and sons Charles (known as Barney) and Clinton. The drink one day took both parents lives, with Harold driving into a tree whilst heavily under the influence, with his wife in the passenger seat, leaving both boys orphaned. Bouncing around various foster homes, the boys were desperate to find a way to remain together, and eventually landed on the brilliant solution of a ten year old boy. They would run away and join the circus. Working first as general roustabouts, it wasn't long before the boys were starting to find their ways into shows in bit parts as extras in clown-work, and learning the odd acrobatic move or stunt. The prodigious young boy's potential and amazing hand-eye coordination was noted by global circus headliner Jacques Duquesne - the Sensational Swordsman! - and he began to train him, as well as convincing amazing archer Buck Chisholm - the Tremendous Trick Shot! Unfortunately, the pair of amazing attractions had less-than-legal alternative forms of income away from the circus, and after extremely rough falling outs with both men (each incident leading to severe injury, near death on the part of Clint) the younger Barton was left with a lot of skills and questionable direction. Having nowhere else to go he remained with the circus, only to watch it change hands as an old lost relative of the current ringmaster returned to pursue his family legacy. Maynard Tiboldt had lost much of his money having previously gone out on his own to make a career as an inventor, seeking to find electronic devices to aid psychological conditions. He felt there were forms of electronic psychotherapy which could bring a great boon to mankind, and that the field had been harmed by the negative reputation brought on by crude techniques such as electroshock therapy. Unfortunately, he underestimated just how much this was the case, and found it difficult to find further investment BECAUSE of this, and had to return to the family circus hat in hand, embittered with shame. The era had not been kind to circuses however. People now were capable of being wowed, and entertained from various other cheaper, if not free, sources. Current affairs programs hammered some circuses on animal welfare issues, and even the ones who did right by theirs bore the brunt of such a backlash. Unwilling to twice be ruined by unearned shots to his field's reputation, Tiboldt lashed out and turned to crime. By this point it was an easy sell to most of the workers, many of whom had also followed Swordsman and Trick Shot's example and started down that path to supplement waning income already. Gradually he grew a network within the circus, relying on the facts that carnival workers seldom trusted police, and if he could get enough of the workers onside, the rest would have little choice but to go ahead, or leave. As a young performer, who had his own reputation for going against previous star performers Duquesne and Buck, he was very much kept in the dark on Maynard's criminal machinations, large thefts were planned after his oarts of performances, and young Clint was completely oblivious to what was taking place. But now earned notoriety was surrounding the circus, to the point that it was staked out by certain costumed heroes, keen on getting to the bottom of the string of mysterious crimes which seemed to follow the circus. Maynard Tiboldt had been performing mass-hypnosis using a device of his own invention within his own hat. Iron Man and the Avengers broke from their seats as the method of crime became apparent, only to find themselves brought under the Ringmaster's thrall. Fortnately Clint had returned after his show, curious by the nature of some of these coloured costumed Avengers, and turned the tables on the Circus of Crime by knocking the Ringmaster's hat from his head with an arrow. The Avengers ended the Criminal Circus' run of crimes and arrested most of the offending carnival workers, this left Clint both out of work and with only one reference of any value for future employment. Fortunately it was a good one. Iron Man was impressed with how Clint had handled himself, and Clint in turn was impressed with the notion of a regular man going out and performing these feats of heroism with only himself and the fruits of his own creativity. 'Hawkeye' joined the Avengers, first on a probationary role, before fully earning his stripes. Unfortunately it eventually proved not to be the perfect fit for Clint, as the anti-authoritarian Avenger bristled with what he saw as marching orders being given by the team's handlers who kept the Avengers accountable. He parted ways with the team on good terms with most of the teams heroes, but unable to approve of being a part of a team where they're micromanaged and directed by political machinations. Fortunately the Avengers weren't the only show in town, and he'd more than impressed with his capabilities at this point. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) Why do you want to play this character, what is the driving motivation behind both this desire and the character themselves? It's somewhat baffled me that Green Arrow has been the archer of preference in these kinds of games. Clint, to be perfectly honest, has a more instantly recognisable "fun" personality, he's virtuously synonymous with a team environment (having been a part of the Avengers, Defenders, led the West Coast Avengers, filled a mentor role for the Great Lakes Avengers, led the Thunderbolts... and was even the first Marvel character to get Justice League membership in the crossover publications they printed). If there's a team in comics Hawkeye COULD be on, he's pretty much been on it. Which demonstrates how fitting he is for a game like this where collaboration is front and centre. Hawkeye had long been defined by his brash bull-headedness against authority figures (particularly male authority figures), redemption, and the troubles brought around by his weakness for the fairer sex. I think I've got enough laid out that I can accurately portray these things. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go? This will be a younger Hawkeye, back when he was still very much butting heads and driving to become the kind of leader he believes himself to be... even if he's not quite there yet. That journey is the one we're on now. This will be a ROAMING character generally, and at least at first. Although I may interject the odd plot line in the mix to round things out, introduce backstory and add depth. For the most part there will be a lot of drifting around with Justice League activities. |
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Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
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T H E B O Y
NAME UNKNOWN ♦ CHILD ABDUCTED BY NATIVE AMERICANS ♦ CHEROKEE/SALEM, NC
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
They had travelled to this small township to build the Single Brother's House for their Moravian brethren. Having met one of their more morally questionable brethren on the trip to the settlement, they determined that living on the outskirts may be the best measure for their new home.
It was a dark night when they heard rustling on their property. The father didn't bother with a warning shot. Native hollering filled the air. The father was cut down. The mother who had gone for the second rifle was treated no better.
The boy was no older than seven.
The hollering swept through the estate as they left no living soul on the property. The boy swept up and bouncing to a new home, the rhythm of the horse setting a new heartbeat.
It was less than ten years past when the boy returned, atop a painted horse, with a tomahawk, a pair of fancy French dueling pistols and a black locust bow.
From all accounts the boy could still understand English perfectly, but would never utter a word.
It was a dark night when they heard rustling on their property. The father didn't bother with a warning shot. Native hollering filled the air. The father was cut down. The mother who had gone for the second rifle was treated no better.
The boy was no older than seven.
The hollering swept through the estate as they left no living soul on the property. The boy swept up and bouncing to a new home, the rhythm of the horse setting a new heartbeat.
It was less than ten years past when the boy returned, atop a painted horse, with a tomahawk, a pair of fancy French dueling pistols and a black locust bow.
From all accounts the boy could still understand English perfectly, but would never utter a word.
C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
S A M P L E P O S T:
WIP
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Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
32 min ago
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
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G R E E N L A N T E R N
H A L J O R D A N ♦ S P A C E C O P ♦ S E C T O R 2 8 1 4 ♦ H U M A N
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
“It is not power that corrupts but fear. Fear of losing power corrupts those who wield it and fear of the scourge of power corrupts those who are subject to it.”
- Aung San Suu Kyi, Freedom from Fear
- Aung San Suu Kyi, Freedom from Fear
Hal Jordan, a test pilot for Ferris Aircraft fulfilling a defense contract in it's production of the latest in hightech aircraft, was in his mid-twenties when he experienced the moment that changed his life.
An Unidentified Flying Object, approximated to be the size of a marble, repeatedly peppered his aircraft as he attempted a number of complex manouevres in the test phase. Forced into an emergency landing out on the Bonneville Saltflats.
Unreported, as he jumped from the cockpit, he discovered that the U.F.O had been a green ring of some description. Picking the ring up to inspect it, it rapidly transported him to a location where he discovered a wrecked craft along with a dying alien lifeform going by the name Abin Sur.
Abin Sur survived long enough to explain that within the ship was a Lantern which powered the ring, with the recitation of the oath all Officers of the Green Lantern Corps receive. And a warning... that with light, comes shadows. That nothing creates the shadow of corruption like Fear, and that the Corps itself had become rife with these problems. It had lead to Abin Sur's demise.
He donned the ring and found new purpose.
Basic training he met Kilowog. The Drill Sargent who's character was beyond reproach. But upon graduation, he found that few had maintained the moral standards that Kilowog had instilled. It seemed, in fact, that Kilowog had been put in his role as trainer due to his "difficulty to go along to get along" with other Green Lanterns out in the line of "service".
Hal found corruption and grift everywhere. The Corps had long developed a reputation amongst the universe as being the law, but they had lost the universe's trust. Few would request the intervention of Green Lanterns, and most would seem apprehensive when Green Lantern presence was known - too many Corpsmen charging protection and accepting/expecting kickbacks.
But Hal was always an idealist. Always a romantic. Ever since it was instilled in him as a child by his father, and the messages Kilowog delivered still rang true. If he were going to be a space cop, he was going to do it clean. And if the system in play wouldn't accept it, then he'd have to clean up the system as he existed.
Becoming despised and distrusted by most of his fellow Corpsmen, the Green Lantern of Sector 2814, is intent on shining light on the corruption. For those who worship Evil's might, whether they wear a ring or not... will learn to beware his power, and scurry from this Green Lantern's light.
An Unidentified Flying Object, approximated to be the size of a marble, repeatedly peppered his aircraft as he attempted a number of complex manouevres in the test phase. Forced into an emergency landing out on the Bonneville Saltflats.
Unreported, as he jumped from the cockpit, he discovered that the U.F.O had been a green ring of some description. Picking the ring up to inspect it, it rapidly transported him to a location where he discovered a wrecked craft along with a dying alien lifeform going by the name Abin Sur.
Abin Sur survived long enough to explain that within the ship was a Lantern which powered the ring, with the recitation of the oath all Officers of the Green Lantern Corps receive. And a warning... that with light, comes shadows. That nothing creates the shadow of corruption like Fear, and that the Corps itself had become rife with these problems. It had lead to Abin Sur's demise.
He donned the ring and found new purpose.
Basic training he met Kilowog. The Drill Sargent who's character was beyond reproach. But upon graduation, he found that few had maintained the moral standards that Kilowog had instilled. It seemed, in fact, that Kilowog had been put in his role as trainer due to his "difficulty to go along to get along" with other Green Lanterns out in the line of "service".
Hal found corruption and grift everywhere. The Corps had long developed a reputation amongst the universe as being the law, but they had lost the universe's trust. Few would request the intervention of Green Lanterns, and most would seem apprehensive when Green Lantern presence was known - too many Corpsmen charging protection and accepting/expecting kickbacks.
But Hal was always an idealist. Always a romantic. Ever since it was instilled in him as a child by his father, and the messages Kilowog delivered still rang true. If he were going to be a space cop, he was going to do it clean. And if the system in play wouldn't accept it, then he'd have to clean up the system as he existed.
Becoming despised and distrusted by most of his fellow Corpsmen, the Green Lantern of Sector 2814, is intent on shining light on the corruption. For those who worship Evil's might, whether they wear a ring or not... will learn to beware his power, and scurry from this Green Lantern's light.
C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:
Hal is intent on cleaning up the Green Lantern Corps and being the best damn space cop he can be. This is not the same brash, cocky cardboard cutout Hal we're used to though.
This Hal KNOWS how dirty the Corps has become, and the reputation the Corps has developed over time. He also knows the corps is far bigger than just him. He's doing his damnedest to do things by the book. He can't just throw himself into cutting down huge swaths of dirty space cops... he's Gordon in Gotham. He's discovering corruption in a system that the Guardians of the Universe could not believe has been corrupted - mainly due to ego - so he's taking down individual dirty space cops and addressing it where he can see it in a force that spans some 3,600 sectors.
That said, he's not some Internal Affairs equivalent Green Lantern... he's the Green Lantern of Sector 2,814, and as such his only interaction with other space cops, clean or dirty, are cross-jurisdictional situations - where according to Corps mandate both GL's are to work such cases to a conclusion.
As for my own motivations and reason for pitching this version.
Well, confession time...
First, if I had to write regular comics' Hal Jordan for a month or two I would probably shoot myself in the face.
And second, someone might've discovered this green and yellow Serpico picture and worked backwards from there...
That said, I like the thought of the far-reaching universal police force being rife with corruption, and the ways that might re-shape and affect the cosmic side of such a game. Makes the Ravagers and Guardians of the Galaxy make a bit more sense in relief - "What do you guys stand for?" "Well... not THAT!". Perhaps the Nova Corps could be some effort on the part of another segment of the universe to come up with an alternative to justice than these bent space cops, who everyone but the Guardians can see is crooked?
This Hal KNOWS how dirty the Corps has become, and the reputation the Corps has developed over time. He also knows the corps is far bigger than just him. He's doing his damnedest to do things by the book. He can't just throw himself into cutting down huge swaths of dirty space cops... he's Gordon in Gotham. He's discovering corruption in a system that the Guardians of the Universe could not believe has been corrupted - mainly due to ego - so he's taking down individual dirty space cops and addressing it where he can see it in a force that spans some 3,600 sectors.
That said, he's not some Internal Affairs equivalent Green Lantern... he's the Green Lantern of Sector 2,814, and as such his only interaction with other space cops, clean or dirty, are cross-jurisdictional situations - where according to Corps mandate both GL's are to work such cases to a conclusion.
As for my own motivations and reason for pitching this version.
Well, confession time...
First, if I had to write regular comics' Hal Jordan for a month or two I would probably shoot myself in the face.
And second, someone might've discovered this green and yellow Serpico picture and worked backwards from there...
That said, I like the thought of the far-reaching universal police force being rife with corruption, and the ways that might re-shape and affect the cosmic side of such a game. Makes the Ravagers and Guardians of the Galaxy make a bit more sense in relief - "What do you guys stand for?" "Well... not THAT!". Perhaps the Nova Corps could be some effort on the part of another segment of the universe to come up with an alternative to justice than these bent space cops, who everyone but the Guardians can see is crooked?
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Hal Jordan - Green Lantern of Sector 2,814 - Has a strange tendency to operate in plain clothes/undercover, will often use the ring to take the form of local green life forms, if any are regionally appropriate. Cautious planner, but very brave in willingness to put himself at the center of high danger situations in the attempt to uncover cosmic level crimes. He seems "distant" to most other Green Lanterns, because of the nature of the job and the trust issues he's developed along the way. Amongst Earth based heroes (like the Justice League and Avengers) he seems "distant" due to his experiences which see the Earth as just one world in a universe spanning 3,600 sectors, albeit one world over which he has considerable sentimentality.
Kilowog - Personal Trainer / Drill Sargent to New Recruits - Still keeps contact with Green Lantern Jordan. Somewhat rare as most have viewed maintaining ties with the Bolovaxian to be adverse to advancement. In a universe where so few can be trusted, Kilowog has always remained a treasured friend to Hal within the Corps.
Carol Ferris - CEO Of Ferris Aircraft and new commercial airline Ferris Air - Former lovers, current friends, one of the few people on Earth who knows anything about the Green Lanterns and their role in the greater universe. Close confidant to Hal, just as Kilowog anchors him with perspective from within the GL universe, Carol keeps him grounded with his humanity and the perspective of home.
The Guardians of the Universe - Old when the universe was young, these founders of the Green Lantern Corps are not without considerable ego. They created the Lanterns as their second attempt to bring justice and order to a disorderly universe eons ago and due to the length of time that the Lanterns have shown to be relatively successful they struggle to see flaws in the current status quo.
The Living Tribunal - The Living Tribunal remains the best, albeit final, recourse for high-level questions of justive throughout the known universe. It deals with matters of high-level cosmic importance. As yet no incident has been "overturned upon appeal" after intervention of The Living Tribunal...
Kilowog - Personal Trainer / Drill Sargent to New Recruits - Still keeps contact with Green Lantern Jordan. Somewhat rare as most have viewed maintaining ties with the Bolovaxian to be adverse to advancement. In a universe where so few can be trusted, Kilowog has always remained a treasured friend to Hal within the Corps.
Carol Ferris - CEO Of Ferris Aircraft and new commercial airline Ferris Air - Former lovers, current friends, one of the few people on Earth who knows anything about the Green Lanterns and their role in the greater universe. Close confidant to Hal, just as Kilowog anchors him with perspective from within the GL universe, Carol keeps him grounded with his humanity and the perspective of home.
The Guardians of the Universe - Old when the universe was young, these founders of the Green Lantern Corps are not without considerable ego. They created the Lanterns as their second attempt to bring justice and order to a disorderly universe eons ago and due to the length of time that the Lanterns have shown to be relatively successful they struggle to see flaws in the current status quo.
The Living Tribunal - The Living Tribunal remains the best, albeit final, recourse for high-level questions of justive throughout the known universe. It deals with matters of high-level cosmic importance. As yet no incident has been "overturned upon appeal" after intervention of The Living Tribunal...
S A M P L E P O S T:
Work In Progress.
P O S T C A T A L O G:
Posts pending.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
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T A L K A T I V E T A W N Y E S Q .
A T T O R N E Y A T L A W
A T T O R N E Y A T L A W
T A W K Y T A W N Y ♦ L A W Y E R ♦ M E T R O P O L I S ♦ T I G E R
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
“There is no animal as dangerous as a wounded tiger.” - West Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee
"There is no client as scary as an innocent man." - Michael Connolly, The Lincoln Lawyer
"There is no client as scary as an innocent man." - Michael Connolly, The Lincoln Lawyer
Tawky Tawny started life as an ordinary tiger cub, in a jungle in South Asia. When he was still very young, his mother was killed by a big game hunter. The cub was found and befriended by a schoolteacher, and Mr. Tawny grew up in their house. After one year of elementary schooling functioning as something of a "class pet", Tawny had grown too big to be allowed inside the little schoolhouse in the jungle, but he remained something of a mascot, quietly sitting outside all day, as if listening, and schoolchildren would often ride and romp around the school on his back.
One day another tiger came to the area and killed some of the Natives, who blamed Mr. Tawny and beat a path to the school's door. Tawny escaped into the the jungle with the aid of the schoolteacher, where Captain Marvel overheard the commotion from flying above. Using the Wisdom of Solomon, Captain Marvel whisked the tiger away to the sanctuary of the Rock of Eternity, where he wished wished out loud that Tawny could talk. At that moment, the wizard Shazam announced that if it were truly required, such a wish could indeed be fulfilled, but that as with all things would come a price. With a bowl of liquid, a mystical serum for energizing an animal's brain and enabling it to use its vocal chords for speech. He placed it in front of Tawny, who lapped it up, and was now very pleased to find himself able to speak. Captain Marvel returned to the village with the tiger now able to provide his own defense. However, hearing a tiger claim he didn't kill and eat someone was evidently no more believable than if the tiger hadn't been able to speak in the first place. Mr Tawny was left with little recourse, he assured the villagers that he could find the one responsible for the deaths. His nose leading the way, Tawny tracked down the new tiger and fought him to submission. Tawny then pointed to the paw and track markings of the other tiger, which matched those left by the killer. The natives agreed that Tawny was innocent.
And summarily killed the other tiger with clubs and spears, right in front of Mr Tawny.
Mr Tawny decided at this point that this was bound to happen again, and that America seemed a far mre suitable for a civilised tiger, such as he.
One Captain Marvel flight later, and Mr Tawny was in Fawcett City, a fine location for a tiger trying to find his way. Assisting Captain Marvel in numerous ways, he became such a friend and revered member of 'The Marvel Family', that when he expressed disappointment in not being a U.S. Citizen, the Mayor of Fawcett City himself pulled strings to ensure that Tawky Tawny be allowed to sit for the citizenship test - passing it with flying colours.
When asked by the Mayor at his Citizenship ceremony, what he'd first like to do as an American citizen, he said he'd like to watch a baseball game with his good friend Captain Marvel and then get to work preparing to take the BAR exam.
For Mr Tawny had never forgotten that fear of persecution he experienced as a young tiger, years before.
Tawky Tawny had a specific set of skills, and a hunger for justice.
One day another tiger came to the area and killed some of the Natives, who blamed Mr. Tawny and beat a path to the school's door. Tawny escaped into the the jungle with the aid of the schoolteacher, where Captain Marvel overheard the commotion from flying above. Using the Wisdom of Solomon, Captain Marvel whisked the tiger away to the sanctuary of the Rock of Eternity, where he wished wished out loud that Tawny could talk. At that moment, the wizard Shazam announced that if it were truly required, such a wish could indeed be fulfilled, but that as with all things would come a price. With a bowl of liquid, a mystical serum for energizing an animal's brain and enabling it to use its vocal chords for speech. He placed it in front of Tawny, who lapped it up, and was now very pleased to find himself able to speak. Captain Marvel returned to the village with the tiger now able to provide his own defense. However, hearing a tiger claim he didn't kill and eat someone was evidently no more believable than if the tiger hadn't been able to speak in the first place. Mr Tawny was left with little recourse, he assured the villagers that he could find the one responsible for the deaths. His nose leading the way, Tawny tracked down the new tiger and fought him to submission. Tawny then pointed to the paw and track markings of the other tiger, which matched those left by the killer. The natives agreed that Tawny was innocent.
And summarily killed the other tiger with clubs and spears, right in front of Mr Tawny.
Mr Tawny decided at this point that this was bound to happen again, and that America seemed a far mre suitable for a civilised tiger, such as he.
One Captain Marvel flight later, and Mr Tawny was in Fawcett City, a fine location for a tiger trying to find his way. Assisting Captain Marvel in numerous ways, he became such a friend and revered member of 'The Marvel Family', that when he expressed disappointment in not being a U.S. Citizen, the Mayor of Fawcett City himself pulled strings to ensure that Tawky Tawny be allowed to sit for the citizenship test - passing it with flying colours.
When asked by the Mayor at his Citizenship ceremony, what he'd first like to do as an American citizen, he said he'd like to watch a baseball game with his good friend Captain Marvel and then get to work preparing to take the BAR exam.
For Mr Tawny had never forgotten that fear of persecution he experienced as a young tiger, years before.
Tawky Tawny had a specific set of skills, and a hunger for justice.
C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:
Mr Tawky Tawny evaded persecution himself, and combined with seeing himself as a very sophisticated tiger, he has developed a newfound appreciation for the law since the magic of the wizard Shazam.
As for Detective Chimp's own motivations, in terms of why he chooses to work for Mr Tawny despite appearing to not like him very much... well, that will all come out in the wash.
We'll be telling legal fiction stories in a superhero setting with a tiger and chimpanzee. I'm really not sure how much more selling this concept really needs.
As for Detective Chimp's own motivations, in terms of why he chooses to work for Mr Tawny despite appearing to not like him very much... well, that will all come out in the wash.
We'll be telling legal fiction stories in a superhero setting with a tiger and chimpanzee. I'm really not sure how much more selling this concept really needs.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Detective Bobo T. Chimpanzee - Call him 'Detective Chimp', he is Mr Tawny's Private Investigator. He does not respond to his given name, and will use threats to fling something Mr Tawny really doesn't want to know about if this rule is broken. Drinks heavily. Smokes. Always takes off Veterans Day as a personal work holiday, where he goes drinking with someone called 'Rex the Wonderdog' according to his calendar. Once let slip about a place called the 'Bureau of Amplified Animals', but has never referred to it again and won't answer to questions about it. Is extremely cagey with his past, but incredibly competent at his job, if a little socially maladjusted towards Talky Tawny himself.
Mary Batson - Operates as Tawky Tawny's legal secretary both to help out their good friend and "because Gee Golly, I have to check out the big smoke!". The Superheroine who also turns into the female Captain Marvel upon speaking the name of the wizard Shazam, and is a somewhat naive, yet eager helper at Tawky Tawny's legal office.
Mary Batson - Operates as Tawky Tawny's legal secretary both to help out their good friend and "because Gee Golly, I have to check out the big smoke!". The Superheroine who also turns into the female Captain Marvel upon speaking the name of the wizard Shazam, and is a somewhat naive, yet eager helper at Tawky Tawny's legal office.
S A M P L E P O S T:
Work In Progress.
P O S T C A T A L O G:
Posts pending.
1x Thank
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Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
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D U C H A M P : M A N T L E O F
T H E M O O N ' S K N I G H T
T H E M O O N ' S K N I G H T
J E A N - P A U L D U C H A M P ♦ R E S T A U R A T E U R
♦ N E W Y O R K ♦ U N A F F I L I A T E D / F O R M E R L Y L . E & D . G . S . E
♦ N E W Y O R K ♦ U N A F F I L I A T E D / F O R M E R L Y L . E & D . G . S . E
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"Marc told me death was boring. The man had no taste, but in this case I'll trust his review."
Jean-Paul DuChamp joined the French Foreign Legion as part of the 2nd Foreign Parachute Regiment as a sniper, rising to the Section de Tireurs d'Elite (STE). He found himself having a whirlwind romance with a young pilot named Phillippe, actually on loan with the 62nd Air Force Escadre for Helicopters with no transport escadre pilots available to spare, and then with the nature of flight itself, where Duchamp discovered that his steady hands worked just as well behind the helm as they did behind a rifle and that he far preferred flying aircraft than jumping out of them.
Over the following months he was able to log enough hours to get his pilot's licenses both in standard fixed wing aircraft and helicopters, in addition to his other intense training. It was a labour of love.
Phillippe would be recalled back to active duty and Jean-Paul would never speak to him again. He would receive only a package with his Air Force pilot's cap, and a letter explaining that his family would never understand their love.
His unique set of combined skills saw him fall into the interest of the DGSE, who had been called upon to provide EXFILT for an allied mission in South America. In preperation he was taught a number of espionage and counter-espionage techniques.
The mission saw the extraction of one Raoul Bushman, a hyper-violent mercenary from the African nation of Burundi who was being used to foment dissent and train locals against a dictator against Western interests. The mission was written off when Bushman went AWOL, tiring of training villagers and assassinated and decapitated the dictator himself, his head found prominently mounted on a flagpole. Orders were to remove Bushman and sever all potential involvement. This could be done more easily with a bullet, but instead with the aid of a former U.S Marine with C.I.A ties by the name of Marc Spector, the pair was able to remove Bushman from the field with minimal bloodshed.
The pair would soon find the bullet would have been simpler and better all around.
Bushman had a line on a revenue-stream robbing, pillaging and "offering protection" to local archaeologists, Western journalists and aid workers out-of-their-depth in Southern Egypt and Northern Sudan. Wanting to pay the pair back, and always looking for able bodied warriors, he invited them to tag along and take a cut of this month's take.
This once again went FUBAR when Raoul Bushman once again showed his barely controlled violent streak. He murdered archaeologist Dr Peter Alraune which immediately soured the mood. Duchamp and Spector could not abide the unnecesary murder, Spector confronted Bushman only to get himself stabbed, Duchamp fled as did the daughter of Dr Alraune, Marlene.
What happened next is not entirely clear. Spector himself claimed that he died, and was restored by the Ancient Egyptian god Khonshu - claiming that he did so to make him the Moon's newest avatar of vengeance.
Marlene claimed she found him at the foot of the statue shrouded in a white cloth of some kind which seemed to have aided in clotting his most severe wound, and that he'd lost quite a lot of blood.
Regardless of what really happened then and there, Spector claimed he had found new purpose, the three returned back to his American home to find that the mercenary life had agreed with Marc. He had amassed great wealth, and requested that Jean-Paul fly for him. Like Noah, he spoke of his God asking him to create a great vessel which would carry the pair of them.
Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was infatuation... but Jean-Paul did just that. And Marc Spector would indeed become the Moon's Knight. A violent force of nature, dispatching vengeance on behalf of a beaming god, to protect those who would travel by night.
Over time Jean-Paul would find himself deeper in the darkness and madness. With his own heritage and ancestry as the "Bloodline" of the Knight's Templar, and attached his own responsibility to beating back the types of darkness they would face.
And one by one... strange foes would descend upon them from that darkness and fall. The Black Spectre, Morpheus the demon of dream, even Raoul Bushman would come back into their lives.
And all would crumble, all would fall. For who could stand against a god and a true believer?
The answer would come six years later. Another god, another true believer.
A brutish figure wearing a goat-like war mask, representing his South American god Hachezma, brutalised and murdered Marc Spector with an axe.
And just like that, the edifice fell. Jean-Paul, Marlene, Crawley, would drift apart on the winds. Until the will reading of Steven Grant would once again bind them.
Another package from a loved one who he would never speak to again.
A mask, a handgun, a truncheon and the unblemished C.I.A file of Jean-Paul Duchamp. Unredacted meant Marc had done legwork and unearthed it himself, rather than requested it by regular channels.
With it, 'Frenchie' saw how their lives intertwined, their missions one. And Jean-Paul Duchamp would don the mask, the cowl, the vestments of Khonshu's Moon Knight, even if it were for his own reasons.
The Moon's Knight is back at work, once more.
At this point, the Moon Knight has been public knowledge for a half dozen years, even if they don't know who is behind the cowl.
Jean-Paul DuChamp is using the mantle for his own purposes, to target dark and demonic forces known as the Hellbent, monsters on earth that he's seen with increasing prevalance over the past two or three years. He also fights street level crime, as it appears, but it's not his primary purpose.
Jean-Paul DuChamp has never seen nor spoken to Khonshu, the god Marc Spector believed drove him to his calling and whose bidding he felt he was doing.
Marc Spector is dead... but he's died before.
Other backstory/origin details will be added here as revealed.
Over the following months he was able to log enough hours to get his pilot's licenses both in standard fixed wing aircraft and helicopters, in addition to his other intense training. It was a labour of love.
Phillippe would be recalled back to active duty and Jean-Paul would never speak to him again. He would receive only a package with his Air Force pilot's cap, and a letter explaining that his family would never understand their love.
His unique set of combined skills saw him fall into the interest of the DGSE, who had been called upon to provide EXFILT for an allied mission in South America. In preperation he was taught a number of espionage and counter-espionage techniques.
The mission saw the extraction of one Raoul Bushman, a hyper-violent mercenary from the African nation of Burundi who was being used to foment dissent and train locals against a dictator against Western interests. The mission was written off when Bushman went AWOL, tiring of training villagers and assassinated and decapitated the dictator himself, his head found prominently mounted on a flagpole. Orders were to remove Bushman and sever all potential involvement. This could be done more easily with a bullet, but instead with the aid of a former U.S Marine with C.I.A ties by the name of Marc Spector, the pair was able to remove Bushman from the field with minimal bloodshed.
The pair would soon find the bullet would have been simpler and better all around.
Bushman had a line on a revenue-stream robbing, pillaging and "offering protection" to local archaeologists, Western journalists and aid workers out-of-their-depth in Southern Egypt and Northern Sudan. Wanting to pay the pair back, and always looking for able bodied warriors, he invited them to tag along and take a cut of this month's take.
This once again went FUBAR when Raoul Bushman once again showed his barely controlled violent streak. He murdered archaeologist Dr Peter Alraune which immediately soured the mood. Duchamp and Spector could not abide the unnecesary murder, Spector confronted Bushman only to get himself stabbed, Duchamp fled as did the daughter of Dr Alraune, Marlene.
What happened next is not entirely clear. Spector himself claimed that he died, and was restored by the Ancient Egyptian god Khonshu - claiming that he did so to make him the Moon's newest avatar of vengeance.
Marlene claimed she found him at the foot of the statue shrouded in a white cloth of some kind which seemed to have aided in clotting his most severe wound, and that he'd lost quite a lot of blood.
Regardless of what really happened then and there, Spector claimed he had found new purpose, the three returned back to his American home to find that the mercenary life had agreed with Marc. He had amassed great wealth, and requested that Jean-Paul fly for him. Like Noah, he spoke of his God asking him to create a great vessel which would carry the pair of them.
Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was infatuation... but Jean-Paul did just that. And Marc Spector would indeed become the Moon's Knight. A violent force of nature, dispatching vengeance on behalf of a beaming god, to protect those who would travel by night.
Over time Jean-Paul would find himself deeper in the darkness and madness. With his own heritage and ancestry as the "Bloodline" of the Knight's Templar, and attached his own responsibility to beating back the types of darkness they would face.
And one by one... strange foes would descend upon them from that darkness and fall. The Black Spectre, Morpheus the demon of dream, even Raoul Bushman would come back into their lives.
And all would crumble, all would fall. For who could stand against a god and a true believer?
The answer would come six years later. Another god, another true believer.
A brutish figure wearing a goat-like war mask, representing his South American god Hachezma, brutalised and murdered Marc Spector with an axe.
And just like that, the edifice fell. Jean-Paul, Marlene, Crawley, would drift apart on the winds. Until the will reading of Steven Grant would once again bind them.
Another package from a loved one who he would never speak to again.
A mask, a handgun, a truncheon and the unblemished C.I.A file of Jean-Paul Duchamp. Unredacted meant Marc had done legwork and unearthed it himself, rather than requested it by regular channels.
With it, 'Frenchie' saw how their lives intertwined, their missions one. And Jean-Paul Duchamp would don the mask, the cowl, the vestments of Khonshu's Moon Knight, even if it were for his own reasons.
The Moon's Knight is back at work, once more.
At this point, the Moon Knight has been public knowledge for a half dozen years, even if they don't know who is behind the cowl.
Jean-Paul DuChamp is using the mantle for his own purposes, to target dark and demonic forces known as the Hellbent, monsters on earth that he's seen with increasing prevalance over the past two or three years. He also fights street level crime, as it appears, but it's not his primary purpose.
Jean-Paul DuChamp has never seen nor spoken to Khonshu, the god Marc Spector believed drove him to his calling and whose bidding he felt he was doing.
Marc Spector is dead... but he's died before.
Other backstory/origin details will be added here as revealed.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Skills and powers:
* Expert Pilot
* Elite level marksman/sniper
* Trained in hand-to-hand combat
* Trained Paratrooper
* Trained in Espionage/Counter-espionage techniques
* Expert wine connoisseur
* Capable of seeing the Hellbent - Dark forces unleashed upon our world
* Is of "The Bloodline" from the Knights Templar. Once honed it would enable him to fully take the form of any of his ancestors in their ancient unending task of eliminating the Hellbent. Presently, it takes great focus for him to merely access their memories, knowledge and on very rare occasions, skills.
NPCs:
* Marlene Alraune - A friend. Former lover of Marc/Steven's.
* Bertrand Crawley - A friend of Marc's Jake Lockley persona. Somewhat mysterious homeless man of New York's streets. Keeps contact with Duchamp mainly out of connection to his friend and the legacy of the Moon Knight.
* Rob Silverman - Jean-Paul's lover. Physical therapist and business partner in their restaurant.
* Gina - Diner operator, who owns and works at the diner that Crawley frequents. Well aware of the exploits of the Moon Knight, and tries to keep her two kids out of that nonsense.
* Numerous villains who'll be added as revealed.
* Expert Pilot
* Elite level marksman/sniper
* Trained in hand-to-hand combat
* Trained Paratrooper
* Trained in Espionage/Counter-espionage techniques
* Expert wine connoisseur
* Capable of seeing the Hellbent - Dark forces unleashed upon our world
* Is of "The Bloodline" from the Knights Templar. Once honed it would enable him to fully take the form of any of his ancestors in their ancient unending task of eliminating the Hellbent. Presently, it takes great focus for him to merely access their memories, knowledge and on very rare occasions, skills.
NPCs:
* Marlene Alraune - A friend. Former lover of Marc/Steven's.
* Bertrand Crawley - A friend of Marc's Jake Lockley persona. Somewhat mysterious homeless man of New York's streets. Keeps contact with Duchamp mainly out of connection to his friend and the legacy of the Moon Knight.
* Rob Silverman - Jean-Paul's lover. Physical therapist and business partner in their restaurant.
* Gina - Diner operator, who owns and works at the diner that Crawley frequents. Well aware of the exploits of the Moon Knight, and tries to keep her two kids out of that nonsense.
* Numerous villains who'll be added as revealed.
S A M P L E P O S T:
This is an advanced roleplay, so please let your sample reflect the quality and content of your posts. Just a few paragraphs to give me a glimpse into how you plan to write the character are all that is needed, and you can choose to turn this sample into a post in the IC later. Please include at least one line of dialogue and/or an 'action' scene that'll best represent your imagined concept. This is mainly so that I can see if your writing meets the requirements for the advanced section.
P O S T C A T A L O G:
This section is not necessary, but a procedural listing of your linked posts will make it much easier and more convenient for all involved.
OP
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
32 min ago
T H E S U M M I T
T H E S U M M I T
T H E S U M M I T
"When is the ending reflective of a time yet to be?" - Vic Sage
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Captain Atom | Allen Adam _________________________________________________________ The Summit of Nuclear-augmented Humanity | Physicist, Engineer, Ballistics Expert _________________________________________________________ Calvin City, Pennsylvania | United States of America C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► ► ► - C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Blue Beetle | Theodore Kord _________________________________________________________ The Summit of Man's Technological Prowess | CEO For Kord Omniversal, one of the fastest growning R & D tech companies on Earth _________________________________________________________ Ivy Town, Massachussetts | United States of America C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► ► ► - C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Judomaster | 'Tiger' _________________________________________________________ The Summit of Man's Martial Arts Prowess | Adventurer/Martial Arts trainer _________________________________________________________ Civic City, Pennsylvania | United States of America C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► ► ► - C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y The Question | Charles Victor Szasz/Vic Sage _________________________________________________________ The Summit of Incorruptibility | News Reporter _________________________________________________________ Hub City, Illinois | United States of America C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► ► ► - C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Nightshade | Eve Eden _________________________________________________________ The Summit of Knowledge of the Shadow Realm | Adventurer _________________________________________________________ Calvin City, Pennsylvania | United States of America C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► ► ► - C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Peacemaker | Christopher Smith _________________________________________________________ The Summit of Weapons Manufacture | Adventurer _________________________________________________________ Calvin City, Pennsylvania | United States of America C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► ► ► - C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Son of Vulcan | Johnathan Mann _________________________________________________________ The Summit of Divinity | Adventurer _________________________________________________________ Calvin City, Pennsylvania | United States of America C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► ► ► - C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Sargent Steel _________________________________________________________ Bystander dragged into this world | Police Detective _________________________________________________________ Ivy Town, Massachussetts | United States of America C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► ► ► - C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Thunderbolt | Peter Cannon _________________________________________________________ The Summit of Mystical/Spiritual Understanding | Reclusive author _________________________________________________________ Radiance, Pennsylvania | United States of America C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► ► ► - P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G - P O S T C A T A L O G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ - | C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T  ________________________________________________________________________________________In the dying days of another world, an assortment of heroes and great men who functioned at the forefront of man's potential came together to fight a beast that sought to end it all. In the middle of the fight, they found themselves vibrating through the then semi-permeable dimensional planes that separated their world from our own. Heroes from the city of Charlton in their own world, found themselves suddenly in Hub City, Illinois. What will they do here? How will they get home? Is there still a home to go to? And if they could do so, would they even WANT to? P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) Roaming characters. Plots pending. |
OP
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
32 min ago
Shut up Tad, ...
...we all know you're a virgin.
...we all know you buy your shoes at Best and Less.
...we all know those curls are implanted pubic hair.
...we all know sexual dysfunction is not a personality trait.
...we all know you're the reason your parents are divorced.
...we all know you think Bieber is acceptable.
...we all know you smell like failure and cheese.
...we all know your town would never have you back.
...we all know you're the human embodiment of Jessica Black's 'Friday'.
...we all know you're the reason the McRib is seasonal.
...we all know America grows stronger in your absence.
...we all know good taste dies with every breath you draw.
...we all know just because you're a pussy doesn't make you a certified gynaecologist.
...we all know you're a virgin.
...we all know you buy your shoes at Best and Less.
...we all know those curls are implanted pubic hair.
...we all know sexual dysfunction is not a personality trait.
...we all know you're the reason your parents are divorced.
...we all know you think Bieber is acceptable.
...we all know you smell like failure and cheese.
...we all know your town would never have you back.
...we all know you're the human embodiment of Jessica Black's 'Friday'.
...we all know you're the reason the McRib is seasonal.
...we all know America grows stronger in your absence.
...we all know good taste dies with every breath you draw.
...we all know just because you're a pussy doesn't make you a certified gynaecologist.
OP
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
32 min ago
A L E X Z I M M E R M A N
A L E X Z I M M E R M A N
A L E X Z I M M E R M A N
▅▅▅▅▅▅ Y E A R B O O K P H O T O ▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅ Y E A R B O O K P H O T O ▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ S T U D E N T S U M M A R Y ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ S T U D E N T S U M M A R Y ▅▅▅▅▅ Alex Zimmerman _________________________________________________________ July15th,2005 | 18 | Caucasian _________________________________________________________ Single | Male | Heterosexual, Not That It's Mattered _________________________________________________________ Onanole (Formerly Winnipeg) | Manitoba | Canada ▅ P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E ▅ P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ - P H Y S I C A L T R A I T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ B U I L D || Slight ◼ H A I R C O L O U R || Brown ◼ E Y E C O L O U R || Brown ◼ H E I G H T || 5'-9" ◼ W E I G H T || 155 lbs ◼ S K I N T O N E || Caucasian - ▅ M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S ▅ M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S ▅▅▅▅▅▅ - M O T I V A T I O N S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Transferred to H.E.A.T Program after recent Hyperion Attack. Doesn't like bullies, and has started to grow into himself after a life of being "small for his age" (very late bloomer, grew 2 inches and added fifteen pounds in the last year). Always viewed himself as 'Just little Alex' but starting to think maybe, just maybe, he could be something more. Big comics nerd, has some inferiority complex issues, over this, his 'average' powers and from being bullied when younger. G O A L S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Wants to see what he can make of himself. - ▅ N O T E S ▅ N O T E S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Some lofty dreams, huge comics fan. Favourite hero is Superman, but has an in-depth knowledge of comics across the board. ► May perhaps use comics too frequently in analogies and examples. ► Well read in general. All he really had in Onanole to keep him preoccupied was a book store called 'Poor Michael's Emporium'. ► Text colour: DodgerBlue - 1E90FF - _________________________________________________________ | ▅ S T U D E N T S Y N O P S I S ▅ S T U D E N T S Y N O P S I S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ Alex Zimmerman grew up with a painfully dull existence. That was generally better when it was dull. Born to David and Barbara Zimmerman in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Alex was on the smaller side at school, and quiet and bookish found himself quickly preyed upon by bullies. The bullying became so extreme, that the Zimmerman's found themselves leaving Winnipeg, and moving to smalltown Onanole, where his father was able to find work as a ranger at Riding Mountain National Park. His mother managed to find work as a waitress there. Onanole is a small township of only about five hundred people and one of it's biggest landmarks is a bookstore called 'Poor Michael's Emporium' where Alex quickly took refuge. When his powers manifested his parents looked into the best ways to care for their son under the situation, and came to the conclusion of enrolling him in P.R.C.U. ▅ A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S ▅ A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ H Y P E R H U M A N A B I L I T Y || Electricity Manipulation __PRIMARY CLASSIFICATION ||Exoteric __SECONDARY CLASSIFICATION ||Electromagnetic Alex is capable of significant, if somewhat imprecise at this point, electrical discharge. He can also draw electricity from other items, rendering electrical objects inert. At this point, THIS is the aspect of his power he has more control over, but it is far from the greatest potential use of his powers. Has potential for far greater maximum discharge when functioning as a conduit and re-routing external electricity, than by generating it all himself via HZE based conversion. But this can be particularly dangerous, as it means he's handling quantities of electricity potentially far beyond his regular ability to control. L I M I T A T I O N S || Has done very little practical work with his own abilities, mainly just figuring out how to keep himself from accidentally using them. W E A K N E S S E S || Typical electricity based issues. Water, can be effected by magnetism. Self esteem issues. Like his powerset, can be prone to predictibility/path of least resistance, and then get down on himself if he doesn't see success. ________________________________________________________________________________________ |
▅ P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S
▅ P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅ P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Y O U A W A K E I N T H E D E A D O F N I G H T, W H A T W O K E Y O U?
A D I S H E V E L E D S T R A N G E R A P P R O A C H E S Y O U A S K I N G F O R H E L P, H O W D O Y O U R E S P O N D?
A N I N T R U D E R A L A R M H A S B E E N S E T O F F O N C A M P U S, H O W D O Y O U R E A C T?
"Well, at the moment, probably 'Big Steve'. He's my roomate over in our House. He sometimes snores, but a couple times lately he's been having these nightmares. You know, since the Hyperion thing. I don't know if that's become common. But yeah. He won't admit it, but, I'm pretty sure that's what's doing it.
Me? Oh, no. I don't dream much. Guess it makes me lucky, lately.
Me? Oh, no. I don't dream much. Guess it makes me lucky, lately.
A D I S H E V E L E D S T R A N G E R A P P R O A C H E S Y O U A S K I N G F O R H E L P, H O W D O Y O U R E S P O N D?
Well, I guess that depends on what our H.E.A.T training tells us how to handle the situation.
I'm guessing I heeeeeeeeeelllllllll--? doooooonnnnnn't hellllll--
I'm getting mixed messages off you at the moment. Are you guys going to teach us how to help the guy with care and caution, or what..?
I'm guessing I heeeeeeeeeelllllllll--? doooooonnnnnn't hellllll--
I'm getting mixed messages off you at the moment. Are you guys going to teach us how to help the guy with care and caution, or what..?
A N I N T R U D E R A L A R M H A S B E E N S E T O F F O N C A M P U S, H O W D O Y O U R E A C T?
I'd do what we're trained to do in the scenario. Probably orderly begin evacuation procedures and try to make sure that others are also following the procedures we're trained and taught to keep us safe.
▅ D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
▅ D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅ D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
The main aim behind Alex's dress selections is to pick out what will draw the least attention to him possible.
Lots of hoodies. Flannel over a simple t-shirt. Jeans or trackpants. Whatever he feels people are least likely to comment or belittle him for.
Lots of hoodies. Flannel over a simple t-shirt. Jeans or trackpants. Whatever he feels people are least likely to comment or belittle him for.
▅ P E R S O N A L I T Y
▅ P E R S O N A L I T Y ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅ P E R S O N A L I T Y ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
Alex is less quiet, and more overly self-conscious.
Having been bullied a lot when he was younger, a lot of his decisions and fashion choices are made with the perspective of not drawing unwanted attention. But he's not quiet or shy, particularly if he finds himself lucky enough to be talking to someone who shares common interests. At which point, if anything, he quickly becomes very bubbly, boistrous and excited to share his thoughts on said common interests.
He's found himself in what he feels like is a school full of hot, cool people, and hasn't realised he's actually starting to grow into himself as well.
Has big self-confidence and self-esteem issues.
Having been bullied a lot when he was younger, a lot of his decisions and fashion choices are made with the perspective of not drawing unwanted attention. But he's not quiet or shy, particularly if he finds himself lucky enough to be talking to someone who shares common interests. At which point, if anything, he quickly becomes very bubbly, boistrous and excited to share his thoughts on said common interests.
He's found himself in what he feels like is a school full of hot, cool people, and hasn't realised he's actually starting to grow into himself as well.
Has big self-confidence and self-esteem issues.
▅ S K I L L S & T A L E N T S
▅ S K I L L S & T A L E N T S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅ S K I L L S & T A L E N T S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
S K I L L || P H O T O G R A P H Y
T A L E N T || L I T E R A R Y / P O P C U L T U R E C R I T I C I S M
Doesn't share it with many, and isn't exactly an outdoorsman, much to his father's chagrin. But he has taken a lot of nature photos for his father, in the interests of the National Park, and for his mother in a few of her small business enterprises.
He's quite skilled, but has never done anything to pursue it.
He's quite skilled, but has never done anything to pursue it.
T A L E N T || L I T E R A R Y / P O P C U L T U R E C R I T I C I S M
Runs his own blog.
Very few views, because he makes no effort to advertise. But he mainly runs it to cobble together his own thoughts on things.
Very few views, because he makes no effort to advertise. But he mainly runs it to cobble together his own thoughts on things.
▅ S U P P O R T I N G C A S T
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▅ R E L A T I O N S H I P S H E E T
▅ R E L A T I O N S H I P S H E E T ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅ R E L A T I O N S H I P S H E E T ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
☯ NEUTRAL ☯ || ☮ FRIENDS ☮ || ♫ BEST FRIENDS ♫ || § TENSE § || ♥ CRUSH ♥ || ☠ ENEMIES ☠
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OP
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
32 min ago
1. Facility keeping "mutants/metahumans" is destroyed in a breakout and a group of them flee by sea - or a flight of incoming transfers to a mutant/metahuman detention facility is brought down in the ocean before it can reach its destination.
They wash up on a deserted island.
Something akin to a superpowered Lord of the Flies.
2. The population of the Earth has been decimated by a virus of some kind. 99.9998% of the population dead. The remaining survivors all possess a mutated metahuman gene, which simultaneously provides the survivors with powers, and also was the genetic point of difference that allowed survivability.
All survivors have found themselves receiving a strange "calling" from at least one of two figures, and disturbing dreams of Angels battling Demons. As the survivors are called to take part in the final ultimate call to arms in a battle of Good vs Evil.
3. A group of superpowered metahumans have been "collected" by society's governments for a singular purpose. To act as a preliminary terraforming group, in an extraterrestrial mission to find the Earth's successor as humanity have deemed the Earth unlivable.
They have been sent ahead to a small goldilocks world that with effort should be able to sustain human life. Slow-moving "Arks" carrying the remaining human populus should start departing within 5 years, of mission success.
But it seems this world may already be occupied...
4. Ju-V..?
Juvenile Vigilante System/Program
In a world of great tension between superpowered people and regular humans, Ju-V is a last ditch effort by a desperate society to prevent the cataclysmic results of more superpowered "villains" from being created by a society which all too often sees an "Us and Them" divide between those with powers and those without.
Not a superpowered Academy/School, but a "rehabilition system" to instil morality and allow identified powered "Persons of Interest" (either from criminal act, wonton destruction, or a scenario primed for retaliation which would exacerbate the superhuman/human divide) the opportunity to learn how to control their powers and either not use them in the future, or display a newly gained sense of morality over when to use them.
Careful to avoid too close connotations to a school or Academy to avoid treading derivative ground.
It's instead a place designed to prevent the worst case scenarios of superpowered villainy from being unleashed on society as a whole. With a focus on personal control and personal restraint.
They wash up on a deserted island.
Something akin to a superpowered Lord of the Flies.
2. The population of the Earth has been decimated by a virus of some kind. 99.9998% of the population dead. The remaining survivors all possess a mutated metahuman gene, which simultaneously provides the survivors with powers, and also was the genetic point of difference that allowed survivability.
All survivors have found themselves receiving a strange "calling" from at least one of two figures, and disturbing dreams of Angels battling Demons. As the survivors are called to take part in the final ultimate call to arms in a battle of Good vs Evil.
3. A group of superpowered metahumans have been "collected" by society's governments for a singular purpose. To act as a preliminary terraforming group, in an extraterrestrial mission to find the Earth's successor as humanity have deemed the Earth unlivable.
They have been sent ahead to a small goldilocks world that with effort should be able to sustain human life. Slow-moving "Arks" carrying the remaining human populus should start departing within 5 years, of mission success.
But it seems this world may already be occupied...
4. Ju-V..?
Juvenile Vigilante System/Program
In a world of great tension between superpowered people and regular humans, Ju-V is a last ditch effort by a desperate society to prevent the cataclysmic results of more superpowered "villains" from being created by a society which all too often sees an "Us and Them" divide between those with powers and those without.
Not a superpowered Academy/School, but a "rehabilition system" to instil morality and allow identified powered "Persons of Interest" (either from criminal act, wonton destruction, or a scenario primed for retaliation which would exacerbate the superhuman/human divide) the opportunity to learn how to control their powers and either not use them in the future, or display a newly gained sense of morality over when to use them.
Careful to avoid too close connotations to a school or Academy to avoid treading derivative ground.
It's instead a place designed to prevent the worst case scenarios of superpowered villainy from being unleashed on society as a whole. With a focus on personal control and personal restraint.
OP
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
32 min ago
Ju-V
Juvenile Vigilante System/Program
In a world of great tension between superpowered people and regular humans, Ju-V is a last ditch effort by a desperate society to prevent the cataclysmic results of more superpowered "villains" being created by a society which all too often sees an "Us and Them" divide between those with powers and those without.
Not a superpowered Academy/School, but a "rehabilition system" to instil morality and allow identified powered "Persons of Interest" (either from criminal act, wonton destruction, extra-sensory capabilities which may potentially add to the widening rift between the superpowered and humans, or a scenario primed for retaliation which would exacerbate the superhuman/human divide) the opportunity to learn how to control their powers and either not use them in the future, or display a newly gained sense of morality over when to use them. It's a place designed to prevent the worst case scenarios of superpowered villainy from being unleashed on society as a whole, with a focus on personal control and self-restraint.
Rules
- Any and all dissent will be punishable by crushing at the hands of the GM. The severity of said crushing will be entirely at the GM's discretion.
- Questioning of the rules, qualifies as dissent and as such will be met with crushing.
- Have fun. Or else be met with crushing.
About The World
There are superpowered amongst us. Gods and monsters. And what could possibly differentiate between the two?
A sense of order. A moral code.
Humanity, whilst still great in number, would be hopelessly outgunned if brought into direct conflict with this new threat. They have been opressed, marginalised and repressed for years, in order to keep their numbers down and disorganised. They have since passed the threshold. They now comprise a clear and present danger to regular humanity. And with that, the policy for dealing with them had to change.
But what of the humans that still greatly outnumber and fear them? The humans that control the ballot box? How could they still see adequate representation from a Government forced into a position of appeasement with this great threat?
The Government holds true to it's names, but the meaning of the policy becomes changed beneath it.
A "rehabilition program" becomes softer. Gentler. More focused on truly instilling morality and personal control for the people within the program. Less a detention center of a different name.
Under Warden Rowell, of the (insert decided upon location for game's setting) Ju-V program. Students are shown a better way, a better path, for the use of immense power as we look to move into a 21st Century which is less about Humanity Or Superhumanity, and more about People, whatever form they may take.
OP
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
32 min ago
Personal dimensional manipulation
Phasing
Invisibility
Explosion Inducement
Cryohumanity
Force fields
Stone mimicry
Life force absorption
Telekinesis
Light aborption and manipulation
Superstrength and Indestructibility
Avian Physiology
-----------------------
Energy Absorber
Monetary based Matter Transfer
-----------------------
Matter State
"Airbender type w/ board"
-----------------------
"Fingers"
"The Darkness"
"Bright Eyes"
"Bulk"
"The Kid"
"Liberty"
"Calculus"
Phasing
Invisibility
Explosion Inducement
Cryohumanity
Force fields
Stone mimicry
Life force absorption
Telekinesis
Light aborption and manipulation
Superstrength and Indestructibility
Avian Physiology
-----------------------
Energy Absorber
Monetary based Matter Transfer
-----------------------
Matter State
"Airbender type w/ board"
-----------------------
"Fingers"
"The Darkness"
"Bright Eyes"
"Bulk"
"The Kid"
"Liberty"
"Calculus"
OP
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
32 min ago
F I N G E R S
T A Y L O R D A W K I N S ◼ F O U R T E E N ◼ M A L E
"Witty Quote #1"
▼ A P P E A R A N C E:
"Witty Quote #2"
//STATS:
◼ HEIGHT | 5'7"
◼ WEIGHT | 135 lbs
◼ BUILD | Small in stature. Young.
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Blonde.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Green
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Antique White - FAEBD7
◼ OTHER | Nil
◼ WEIGHT | 135 lbs
◼ BUILD | Small in stature. Young.
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Blonde.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Green
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Antique White - FAEBD7
◼ OTHER | Nil
//DESCRIPTION:
Small, but due to being very young. His powers have put him here early.
▼ B I O G R A P H Y:
"Witty Quote #3"
WIP
▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:
"Witty Quote #4"
Market forces and survivability. He's not aware of just how integral he is, so still fears Calculus/Bulk more than he really should.
"Fingers" is the quintessential 'Guy who can get you anything' Prison cliche.
Affable and willing to help - on occasion will give discounts for 'creative' requests because he likes the challenge, but will be pressured into doing things by more forceful presences. These are usually Bulk and/or Calculus.
"Fingers" is the quintessential 'Guy who can get you anything' Prison cliche.
Affable and willing to help - on occasion will give discounts for 'creative' requests because he likes the challenge, but will be pressured into doing things by more forceful presences. These are usually Bulk and/or Calculus.
▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:
"Witty Quote #5"
//ABILITIES:
//SKILLS:
//LIMITATIONS:
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Portal Creation and Use | "Fingers" has limited teleportation abilities. Able to generate a portal from his own mass, and then manouever it around his person, allowing him to teleport parts of himself to other locations. For example he could create a portal on his torso, and shove an arm through, taking something from wherever he has that portal lead. He could manouver the portal to allow him to see exactly where the other end has led.
Let's be honest... it's basically the Spot's powers except the portals are ACTUALLY bound to his person.
Let's be honest... it's basically the Spot's powers except the portals are ACTUALLY bound to his person.
//SKILLS:
◼ TBD | Test
//LIMITATIONS:
◼ Spatial Awareness | He needs to have a keen sense of where the place he actually intends the other end of the portal to lead.
◼ Portals are Bound to himself | He can't remove the portals from his person or outright teleport all of himself somewhere. Because there needs to be another end to the portal.
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Portals are PART of himself | As well as potentially losing any part of him which gets severed by a broken portal. The portals themselves are a part of him, and if damaged rather than closed properly by himself, will result in loss of a part of himself.
▼ N O T E S:
//SUPPORTING CAST:
//STOMPING GROUNDS
//PARAPHERNALIA
▼ ALLIES
▼ FRIENDS
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
▼ FRIENDS
◼ TBD | Test
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
//STOMPING GROUNDS
◼ San Francisco | Half Moon Bay, San Francisco
//PARAPHERNALIA
◼ TBD | Test
T H E D A R K N E S S
N A M E U N K N O W N ◼ A G E U N K N O W N ( U N D E R 2 2 ) ◼ M A L E
"Witty Quote #1"
▼ A P P E A R A N C E:
"Witty Quote #2"
//STATS:
//DESCRIPTION:
◼ HEIGHT | 6'4"
◼ WEIGHT | 220 lbs
◼ BUILD | Muscular. Physical peak condition.
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Black. Possibly blackened.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Brown. Possible coloured contacts.
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Black. Bold. 000000
◼ OTHER | No Distinguishing features.
◼ WEIGHT | 220 lbs
◼ BUILD | Muscular. Physical peak condition.
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Black. Possibly blackened.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Brown. Possible coloured contacts.
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Black. Bold. 000000
◼ OTHER | No Distinguishing features.
//DESCRIPTION:
The Darkness is physically imposing, but with no distinguishing features. His demeanour is ominous and cold by design. Not looking to make friends. Quiet and brooding.
▼ B I O G R A P H Y:
"Witty Quote #3"
TBD
▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:
"Witty Quote #4"
The end of crime. The destruction of evil. An endless war.
▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:
"Witty Quote #5"
//ABILITIES:
//SKILLS:
//LIMITATIONS:
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Nil | None. The Darkness is a regular human. Put in the program to prove that it wasn't just for the subjugation of metahumans.
//SKILLS:
◼ Numerous | Too extensive to list.
//LIMITATIONS:
◼ 'Mere' Human | As remarkable and capable a physical specimen as his is, having pushed his body to it's physical max limits, still just a human.
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Solitary | The Darkness targets what he perceives as wrongdoing even within the program with seemingly no regard for the consequences, or how long it might extend his stay in the program. Has no friends. His war can't afford them.
▼ N O T E S:
//SUPPORTING CAST:
//STOMPING GROUNDS
//PARAPHERNALIA
▼ ALLIES
▼ FRIENDS
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
▼ FRIENDS
◼ TBD | Test
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
//STOMPING GROUNDS
◼ East St Louis | Transferred to San Francisco's Aegis facility both for his own protection and for that of those with criminal pasts within St Louis' Aegis Facility - Since he closely followed and familiarised himself with the criminal scene there.
//PARAPHERNALIA
◼ TBD | Test
B R I G H T E Y E S
L A U R A D I B I A S E ◼ T W E N T Y ◼ F E M A L E
"Witty Quote #1"
▼ A P P E A R A N C E:
"Witty Quote #2"
//STATS:
//DESCRIPTION:
◼ HEIGHT | 5'8"
◼ WEIGHT | 145 lbs
◼ BUILD | Average
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Black, matted, dishevelled.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Brown.
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Light coral or F08080
◼ OTHER | No distinguishing features.
◼ WEIGHT | 145 lbs
◼ BUILD | Average
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Black, matted, dishevelled.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Brown.
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Light coral or F08080
◼ OTHER | No distinguishing features.
//DESCRIPTION:
Looks dishevelled. Matted hair. Wears a lot of sundresses wshich quickly get dirty.
▼ B I O G R A P H Y:
"Witty Quote #3"
TBD
▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:
"Witty Quote #4"
The cliched "Prison Crazy". Less crazy and just extra-sensory perception, which makes it almost impossible to properly perceive this world as is.
▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:
"Witty Quote #5"
//ABILITIES:
//SKILLS:
//LIMITATIONS:
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Multiversal Vision | Everything and everyone she sees is actually an alternate reality version of the thing she's looking at. Given enough time, the longer she gets to know someone, a singular version of them starts to coalesce from the frames of alternate versions she has been observing, giving some sense of an "overversion" or "uberversion" of that person and their character, which may not be the actual person, but tends to have similarities.
//SKILLS:
◼ TBD | Test
//LIMITATIONS:
◼ Perceived as Crazy | It's hard to get to know anyone long enough to develop that uberversion and have an opportunity at a decent grasp of something RESEMBLING reality, when due to your powers people view you as crazy in the first place.
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Doesn't Perceive This Reality | Well... this seems pretty obvious and straight forward.
▼ N O T E S:
//SUPPORTING CAST:
//STOMPING GROUNDS
//PARAPHERNALIA
▼ ALLIES
▼ FRIENDS
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
▼ FRIENDS
◼ TBD | Test
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
//STOMPING GROUNDS
◼ San Francisco | Bayshore Heights, San Francisco
//PARAPHERNALIA
◼ TBD | Test
B U L K
B R I A N M C I N T Y R E ◼ S E V E N T E E N ◼ M A L E
"Witty Quote #1"
▼ A P P E A R A N C E:
"Witty Quote #2"
//STATS:
//DESCRIPTION:
◼ HEIGHT | Varies. 5'10" to 6'3".
◼ WEIGHT | Varies. 160 lbs to 800 lbs.
◼ BUILD | Varies. Slightly leaner than average. To Muscular. To... Ridiculously heavyset.
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Light brown.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Brown.
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Pale Violet Red - or DB7093
◼ OTHER | Other than possibly being ridiculously sized, Bulk has a single terrible stretched out tattoo across his arm before realising that this is not the thing for him.
◼ WEIGHT | Varies. 160 lbs to 800 lbs.
◼ BUILD | Varies. Slightly leaner than average. To Muscular. To... Ridiculously heavyset.
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Light brown.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Brown.
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Pale Violet Red - or DB7093
◼ OTHER | Other than possibly being ridiculously sized, Bulk has a single terrible stretched out tattoo across his arm before realising that this is not the thing for him.
//DESCRIPTION:
You can't miss him. Ridiculously proportioned, because he no longer remembers exactly what size he's 'supposed' to be, so he always looks a little 'off'.
▼ B I O G R A P H Y:
"Witty Quote #3"
TBD.
▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:
"Witty Quote #4"
Intelligent enough to understand that if he does what Calculus says, things trickle down to him as his number two which he would otherwise never get.
Personal comfort for the duration.
Personal comfort for the duration.
▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:
"Witty Quote #5"
//ABILITIES:
//SKILLS:
//LIMITATIONS:
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Muscular/Flesh Density Shifter | Bulk is... well, pretty self explanatory.
//SKILLS:
◼ TBD | Test
//LIMITATIONS:
◼ Intelligence | Not the brightest spark.
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Spatial Awareness | Despite long having this powerset he often underestimates how much damage he can do to furniture, overestimates the width of door frames. Misjudges his own size.
▼ N O T E S:
//SUPPORTING CAST:
//STOMPING GROUNDS
//PARAPHERNALIA
▼ ALLIES
▼ FRIENDS
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
▼ FRIENDS
◼ TBD | Test
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
//STOMPING GROUNDS
◼ San Jose | Santa Clara and San Jose.
//PARAPHERNALIA
◼ TBD | Test
T H E K I D - N U M B E R # 5 4 3
L A U R A W I L L I A M S ◼ T W E N T Y S E V E N ( A P P E A R S T H I R T E E N ) ◼ F E M A L E
"Witty Quote #1"
▼ A P P E A R A N C E:
"Witty Quote #2"
//STATS:
//DESCRIPTION:
◼ HEIGHT | 5'3"
◼ WEIGHT | 100 lbs
◼ BUILD | Small.
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Blonde. Plaited pigtails.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Blue
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Khaki - F0E68C
◼ OTHER | Nil
◼ WEIGHT | 100 lbs
◼ BUILD | Small.
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Blonde. Plaited pigtails.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Blue
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Khaki - F0E68C
◼ OTHER | Nil
//DESCRIPTION:
Appears as a thirteen year old girl, generally wears knee-length skirts and has her blonde hair in plaited pig-tails.
▼ B I O G R A P H Y:
"Witty Quote #3"
TBD
▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:
"Witty Quote #4"
The cliched 'lifer/long-timer'. Knows the Ju-V system, and the Aegis facility of San Francisco inside and out. Fires out exposition like nobody else. Completely institutionalised. Hasn't passed the program purely by her own will.
▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:
"Witty Quote #5"
//ABILITIES:
//SKILLS:
//LIMITATIONS:
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Doesn't Age | Possibly immortal in terms of death by natural causes.
//SKILLS:
◼ TBD | Test
//LIMITATIONS:
◼ Thirteen | Whilst she doesn't age, she's not exactly set at the most convenient age. Forever thirteen.
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Vulnerable | Doesn't appear to have any extra protection in terms of potential immortality beyond agelessness.
▼ N O T E S:
//SUPPORTING CAST:
//STOMPING GROUNDS
//PARAPHERNALIA
▼ ALLIES
▼ FRIENDS
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
▼ FRIENDS
◼ TBD | Test
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
//STOMPING GROUNDS
◼ TBD | Test
//PARAPHERNALIA
◼ TBD | Test
L I B E R T Y
L I B B Y T R A I N O R ◼ N I N E T E E N ◼ F E M A L E
"Witty Quote #1"
▼ A P P E A R A N C E:
"Witty Quote #2"
//STATS:
//DESCRIPTION:
◼ HEIGHT | 5'8"
◼ WEIGHT | 140 lbs
◼ BUILD | Taller than average. Athletic.
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Dark brown.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Hazel.
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Cadet Blue - 5F9EA0
◼ OTHER | Compass tattoo between shoulder blades. Rings. When making an attempt, rouges up blush/warpaint.
◼ WEIGHT | 140 lbs
◼ BUILD | Taller than average. Athletic.
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Dark brown.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Hazel.
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Cadet Blue - 5F9EA0
◼ OTHER | Compass tattoo between shoulder blades. Rings. When making an attempt, rouges up blush/warpaint.
//DESCRIPTION:
Fairly singular and isolated, her identity mainly circles around the escape attempts of the past and the next one.
Seems too cool to approach.
Seems too cool to approach.
▼ B I O G R A P H Y:
"Witty Quote #3"
TBD.
▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:
"Witty Quote #4"
Freedom. Escape. Libby has broken out of every Aegis facility she has been placed in. They transferred her to Alcatraz in the hopes it would slow her down. It hasn't. The only thing that has is the knowledge that in her last attempt, she was the only one who got free and the numerous other people who were involved in the attempt were either hospitalised or killed (in the danger of the attempt - not "shot by guards" or similar).
She has since sworn that in every attempt in the future it will just be her. Solo. Can't swear off the attempts. Something about her just needs to breathe free.
She has since sworn that in every attempt in the future it will just be her. Solo. Can't swear off the attempts. Something about her just needs to breathe free.
▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:
"Witty Quote #5"
//ABILITIES:
//SKILLS:
//LIMITATIONS:
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Uncanny Ability | Not yet determined to be 'luck based' or a physical ability. Seems to be 'just fast enough', 'just strong enough', 'just agile enough' when the situation necessitates for freedom or an escape. Her ability has thusfar confounded Aegis which can't determine it's source - it continues to be even more evasive than Libby herself.
◼ Indomitable Will | Libby's will-power and desire to escape has thusfar proven unbreakable.
//SKILLS:
◼ Lock-picking | Self-explanatory
//LIMITATIONS:
◼ TBD | Test
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Conscience | Libby can't stand seeing others get hurt. It's why she's sworn to only go it alone from here on out with her attempts.
▼ N O T E S:
//SUPPORTING CAST:
//STOMPING GROUNDS
//PARAPHERNALIA
▼ ALLIES
▼ FRIENDS
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
▼ FRIENDS
◼ TBD | Test
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
//STOMPING GROUNDS
◼ New Jersey | Greenville, NJ
//PARAPHERNALIA
◼ TBD | Test
C A L C U L U S
W I L L I A M " B I L L Y " I S A A C S ◼ T W E N T Y T W O ◼ M A L E
"Witty Quote #1"
▼ A P P E A R A N C E:
"Witty Quote #2"
//STATS:
//DESCRIPTION:
◼ HEIGHT | 6'1"
◼ WEIGHT | 175 lbs
◼ BUILD | Athletic. Toned.
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Short. Dark.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Blue/Green.
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Chartreuse - 7FFF00
◼ OTHER | Some face and neck tattoos, all added whilst in the facility.
◼ WEIGHT | 175 lbs
◼ BUILD | Athletic. Toned.
◼ HAIR COLOUR | Short. Dark.
◼ EYE COLOUR | Blue/Green.
◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | Chartreuse - 7FFF00
◼ OTHER | Some face and neck tattoos, all added whilst in the facility.
//DESCRIPTION:
Athletic build, but carries himself weightily. Efficiency of movement. Will make you move instead. Makes good use of the gymnasium weights room. Others have to set their routines around him and his training choices. Will not wait for his choice of weights. Inconvenience will be met with reprisal.
Expressions from leer to glare are all intended to intimidate and project dominance.
Expressions from leer to glare are all intended to intimidate and project dominance.
▼ B I O G R A P H Y:
"Witty Quote #3"
TBD
▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:
"Witty Quote #4"
The classic "Prison Boss" cliche. Calculus has become thoroughly institutionalised.
Has no desire to get out. He's been extending his term with "minor" indiscretions to ensure he doesn't leave. Inside these walls he has everything he could ever want. Outside there are variables he can't consider.
A scumbag. Pervert. Pushes boundaries beyond everyone's comfort level at every opportunity to further assert and project dominance.
Has no desire to get out. He's been extending his term with "minor" indiscretions to ensure he doesn't leave. Inside these walls he has everything he could ever want. Outside there are variables he can't consider.
A scumbag. Pervert. Pushes boundaries beyond everyone's comfort level at every opportunity to further assert and project dominance.
▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:
"Witty Quote #5"
//ABILITIES:
//SKILLS:
//LIMITATIONS:
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Predictive Precognition | Can break down all observed data to form accurate predictions/anticipation of events.
//SKILLS:
◼ TBD | Test
//LIMITATIONS:
◼ Observed data | It has to be observed data. The less he is aware of, the less accurate he can precognitively determine the future. This is why he has no desire to leave. As a long-timer in Alcatraz its like he's living in a fishbowl.
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Hubris | Can be prone to hubris, he's become so comfortable in his power he can assume new variables won't hurt him before adequately investigating them.
▼ N O T E S:
//SUPPORTING CAST:
//STOMPING GROUNDS
//PARAPHERNALIA
▼ ALLIES
▼ FRIENDS
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
▼ FRIENDS
◼ TBD | Test
▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test
//STOMPING GROUNDS
◼ Ju-V | His stomping grounds could only be thought of as San Francisco's Aegis Facility on Alcatraz Island.
//PARAPHERNALIA
◼ TBD | Test
OP
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
32 min ago
H O U R M A N
H O U R M A N
H O U R M A N
"Tick, Tock
Johnny May Be On-the-spot
But its Rick's Shot
The Man of the Hour IS HERE..."
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Rick Tyler _________________________________________________________ Unemployed - Aspiring Artist | Justice Society of America _________________________________________________________ Multiverse 668 - Prime | JSA is... Open C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat. - J . S . A . T E A M & A S S O R T E D N O T E S J . S . A . T E A M & A S S O R T E D N O T E S - O R I G I N A L J . S . A . ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Alan Scott - The Green Lantern Jay Garrick - The Flash Ted Grant - Wildcat Kent Nelson - Doctor Fate The Spectre Ted Knight - Starman Carter Hall - Hawkman Rex Tyler - Hourman Al Pratt - The Atom Prince Namor The Sub-Mariner Wesley Dodds - The Sandman Elizabeth "Libby" Lawrence - Liberty Belle Charles McNider - Doctor Mid-Nite Johnny Chambers - Johnny Quick Dinah Drake - Black Canary Terry Sloane - Mister Terrific Jeff Mace - The Patriot Robert Frank - The Whizzer Madeline Joyce - Miss America Bruce Dickson - The Thin Man The Red Raven Jack Frost Professor Elton Morrow - Blue Diamond John Sargent - Sargon the Sorcerer Larry Jordan - Air Wave Johnny Thunder Sandra Knight - The Phantom Lady - C U R R E N T J . S . A . ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Rick Tyler - Hourman Sanderson Hawkins - Sandman Beth Chapel - Doctor Mid-Nite Courtney Whitmore - Stargirl (Pending @DocTachyon app) - Wildcat Pat Dugan - S.T.R.I.P.E - J . S . A . N O T E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat. - P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G - P O S T C A T A L O G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ - | C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T WHAT IF THE SUPER SOLDIER SERUM CHANGED HOW BIOCHEMISTRY WAS VIEWED BY THE PUBLIC INDELIBLY? Rick Tyler is the grandson of the original JSA Hero Hourman. This present JSA is comprised of legacies (and potentially small cameo appearances by...) the original WWII and beyond era team. It was an "open secret" that the original Hourman was Rex Tyler. He very much enjoyed the his playboy superstardom and lifestyle that was afforded to him as a highly prominent wartime chemist and moonlighting hero. Actions have consequences. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) I'll be fleshing out the modern JSA. There'll be flashbacks to ye olde JSA. And connections in between. The listed modern JSA is not the full squad. There were also a few extra members post-WWII in the old JSA. If anyone wants to play any character listed, whether they want anything to do with what I'm doing or not, just give me a heads up. I'm very flexible to change, I mainly just want to know that I can depend on the set characters I have in mind being there ONCE THE IC ACTUALLY GOES UP and I start to solidify the backstory stuff in my mind. Plot names and descriptions will be added here as things solidify. Why do you want to play this character, what is the driving motivation behind both this desire and the character themselves. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go? For a driving character, there should be enough of an outline present to interest other players along with specifications towards how many players you're looking to involve or available roles. For supporting characters, this should indicate either a plot you've arranged to be part of or the type of plot you're looking to be involved in. Roaming characters have the privilege of doing either or simply stating a roadmap for the character to exemplify how you'd ideally like them to move between plots. H O U R M A N F A M I L Y H I S T O R Y H O U R M A N F A M I L Y H I S T O R Y As World War II waged on, and the United States joined the front after the events of Pearl Harbour, all hands were on the task of the war effort, looking for whatever edge they could provide. The SSR, headed by Doctor Abraham Erskine sought to create a new breed of super soldiers, altering a man's fundamental makeup through a combination of vita rays and a chemical serum. Elsewhere private industries such as Bannerman Chemical put their efforts to similar minded projects. Government grants and exemptions from the draft were issued to these frontline scientists, the scientific frontier became possibly the most important frontier in this global war, but not the only one the increasingly desperate Nazi leadership sought. A young chemist with an adventurous streak, Rex Tyler, developed a new drug compound which he named Miraclo. The drug was never announced nor patented however, as Rex (who's brash adventurous streak saw him test the drug on himself, in the rush to discovery in the hyper competitive market environment) was shocked at the effect of the drug which saw possibly even more dramatic effects to the user's strength and durability than even Erskine's method - albeit under more temporary and volatile conditions. But his adventurous streak also saw him put his discovery to an alternate use... Rex Tyler scrapped that method, but began on other projects. Developing more effective sulfa tablets for frontline medical use, 'stimulant' pills to contend with Nazis recent innovation of amphetamine usage, gas decontamination pills (which news of their discovery, was leaked and their effects embellished which became a key propaganda tool in lessening German use of chlorine and mustard gas compared with the first World War. During this time, an assortment of strange and mysterious figures put their lives and abilities on the line to protect the Homefront from fifth columnists, Nazi saboteurs and a new breed of strange and creepy ne'erdowells that seemed to be cropping up in these trying times. A silhouette seen disappearing in plumes of gas, a man faster than you could imagine, rings and rods of power... joined by a man capable of immense strength and power, for an hour at a time. Rex Tyler became a major scientific figure for the era, and with so many able bodied men overseas at war, was one of the most eligible bachelors remaining on American soil. He frequently travelled between New York and California, where between talks at USC, CalTech and UCLA universities he'd often be seen on the red carpet at some rising starlet's arm or another in the Golden Age of Hollywood. It became an open secret that Rex Tyler, whose movements and schedule seemed to match those of the Hourman, and had taken to being introduced as 'The Man Of The Hour' at social gatherings and soirees in both New York and California, as he revelled in the notoriety and lifestyle which it had brought him. Until questions began to get raised about why these fit, fighting men were being kept at home, whilst so many of the boys were dying on foreign shores. Were these men draft dodgers? There was some speculation that these questions were being pushed by the lead industry, as Rex had raised concerns about the widespread use of lead in paint and even petroleum in university lectures. Eager to not be seen as cowardly men, it was Rex Tyler and the Atom Al Pratt who were most ardent that the group take their talents to the Front. First the government tried to claim Miraclo for their own purposes, but were satistfactorily chastened after a demonstration of what just six men on the chemical compound could do, and a stern lecture from the Man of the Hour that the biggest threat to freedom wasn't that the drug not be introduced to the war effort... but rather if it should somehow find its way into the wrong hands and be reverse engineered, with the German's ability to mass produce pharmaceuticals... and what of Russia afterwards? At this point they had significant numbers and were steadily encroaching upon Berlin. But there was still a task that these fine young men and women of the JSA could put their skills to... That other desperate frontier that the Nazis sought to exploit, was the occult. Whether it had actual merit, or if it would merely make a fine propaganda boon to crush the faint hopes of the Nazis, there was a mission for them. Whilst the Howling Commandos were steadily marching towards Berlin, the Nazis were making a desperate grab for an artefact that was known as the Spear of Destiny. An item that reportedly could imbue invincibility upon its wielder. The JSA were put to task and whisked to Scandinavia in a race for the object. In which they were victorious. The hopes of the hun were squashed. The fine Allied men continued their march on Berlin unabated and victory was won. And Rex's playboy lifestyle went into overdrive... In 1960, young Austin Tyler, born to stage actress Wendi Harris would grow to barely know his father. And when he was old enough to, he wouldn't want to. He'd seen enough. An absent father who was all about his own selfish drive for adventure and the frivolity which came with such a life. He took the scraps he was left with... the name of being his father's son, to the University scene where hard work and another powerful drive, albeit focused on other things, would see him pick up a doctorate in chemistry and degrees in business management. Through shrewd investment and a network of subsidiaries he would seize the board and ownership of Bannerman Chemical, and renamed it TylerCo Petrochemical and Pharmaceuticals. A feat his father would never achieve. He gave a lengthy speach before the media about how his father had worked there, how his devotion to the work and his country had forged this post-war nation, and a bunch of other crap he didn't really mean nor care for. He was forging his own path. This was his hour. And he would use it to accomplish that which his father never could, nor even had the sense or drive to. In early 2000, Richard Tyler was born to Austin and Janice Tyler. Austin attempted to push his son into the family business, but like father like son, Richard Tyler rejected that plan. Going so far as to flunk out of high school chemistry after two different incidents involving an explosion, and the creation of chlorine gas. The following donation to the high school Science department was appreciated but still insufficient. Richard goes by the monosyllabic 'Rick', which is far too close to 'Rex' for his father's comfort. He's a talented young artist, but a self-professed 'beach bum'. He's often found at a beachside shack left for him by the grandfather he never met, now long deceased, with some co-ed or another. Much to his father's chagrin or horror. |
2x Thank
OP
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
32 min ago
Edgar Martinez's face was pressed hard against the hot hood of the cruiser which had absorbed the late day's April sun. His hands already sore from the tight cuffs. That mild pain wouldn't be going anywhere in a hurry.
Edgar's head had been positioned so he could watch the whole process of the seizure taking place, in full glory.
Bag after bag of tightly wrapped white powder was removed from the car by the other New Mexico trooper, after initial photographs.
"Aww, maaaaan."
"It would seem you're in a whooole mess-a trouble, young man..."
"Wha-- what am I gonna do? This is crazy, man..."
"What are you gonna do..? Well, we already mirandized you, son... but it would seem you Better Get A Lawyer, son. You better get a reeeeal good one."
Edgar's head had been positioned so he could watch the whole process of the seizure taking place, in full glory.
Bag after bag of tightly wrapped white powder was removed from the car by the other New Mexico trooper, after initial photographs.
"Aww, maaaaan."
"It would seem you're in a whooole mess-a trouble, young man..."
"Wha-- what am I gonna do? This is crazy, man..."
"What are you gonna do..? Well, we already mirandized you, son... but it would seem you Better Get A Lawyer, son. You better get a reeeeal good one."
Location: Lock Up, Albuquerque, New Mexico
Better Get A Lawyer, Son: 1.01 Better Get a Real Good One
Interaction(s): Nil
Previously: N/A
Italian wingtips clak across state linoleum.
Edgar had his head on the table. The cuffs still hurt and were now connected to a loop holding him here in this tight room that they wouldn't let him out of. It'd been hours.
A practised double windsor, resting on a dress shirt with an exorbitant thread count, bounces with a confident gait.
They had him. They kept talking about Mexico, but he'd brought this coke across from Texas. Just because he was Latino they thought he was Mexican? This was fucked. Kept talking about how the Feds would turn him inside out. They all knew they had him. They pulled all the bags out right in front of him. Maybe he should just--
The door opened. In walked a blonde man, with a crisp suit and a swagger all his own.
"Hey, I'm Banjo de León fro--"
"No frickin' way you're Latino, man..."
Banjo blinked twice.
"--and with that I think we can put a heavy line through 'Incompetency to stand trial'. Yes, you're very astute."
He rounded the table and put his case on the floor.
"As I was saying... I'm Banjo de León from 'de León, Alvarez, Prescott and Attorneys', now whilst--"
"Whoa... name partner." Edgar was surprised that he'd received this kind of attention.
"I'm not a name partner." He replied, going through the motions of a conversation he'd had all too many times already.
"Your father, then?" Edgar assumed. They always assume.
"My wife, as it bloody happens. But you couldn't afford her, mate. So you're stuck with me if you'll have me. Now... as I was trying to say, 'de León, Alvarez, Prescott and Attorneys' we're not generally known for criminal defense. We're known as a civil rights law firm by reputation. I, however, am entirely focused on criminal defense within our firm, and I assure you I am the best you'll find. Unless you want to take your chances on the crapshoot that is the Public Defenders Office." He produced a small box of business cards and slid one across the table top.
Edgar scooped the card up in both cuffed hands like it was a communion wafer, and clung to it like a life preserver. "How-- how much is this going to cost me..?"
"Well, since we're a civil rights law firm, a lot of what I do is actually pro bono work. Which means--"
"You mean you'll work for free..?!"
"Well... on occasion, the judge can occasionally determine that pro bono counsel be renumerated by the state for some or all of our costs if we win in a really over the top fashion, in which case, you wouldn't see THAT money. But yeah. That won't be you. No costs up front."
"Oh thank God, man! They've real--" Banjo silenced him with a hand gesture and "Ah!"
"These rooms are all mic-ed up." He explained.
"Wait, they can do that? You're my lawyer, man?!"
"Well, I'm pleased to hear that." He said as he removed the standard forms and pen from his case, to lay on the table in front of Edgar, before closing the case back up. "And yeah, it wouldn't be admissible in a court room, because of privilege, which you're right to refer to. But anyone listening in might still be tempted to use that for lines of invstigation, and then mysteriously the audio for the room goes missing orrrr they claim it was never recording at the time. You get what I'm saying? So let's not tempt fate, mate. These people are already screwing you to the wall, let's not offer to buy them dinner."
"They're-- they're screwing me?"
"That'd be my bet. Let me guess, they got you in here, started talking about how you were seen driving up from the Mexican border, all of a sudden the Feds are getting mentioned...?
"Yea-- yeah, man! That's exactly what they did!"
"Figures... Trafficking - WHICH NO ONE IS SAYING YOU EVEN DID - is a second degree felony." He raised his voice for Edgar's benefit, having mentioned the mics. It was covered by privilege and meant nothing, but the client wouldn't actually SEE him fighting for him for a while yet, and it was important to make sure they maintain that belief in their lawyer always being on their side. Always fighting. Relentless. "First charge is nine years... unless they can tie you to bringing it in from south of the border. Then it jumps to Federal and they can nail you for twenty years. Stronger negotiating position."
"Those-- those muthafuckas!" He hurriedly signed the paperwork.
"Yeah. Yeah, I hear a lot of that." He took the paperwork back and put it back in his case.
"So... so what do we do from here?"
"Well, I have your casefile, from here I'm going to go down to the ADA's office and see what kind of offer I get out of them."
"Wait-- wait, we're, we're taking a plea..?"
Banjo said nothing but gave a look of pity across the table that all but said "Mate, they hauled bag after bag of cocaine out of your car directly in front of you."
A few beats passed before he eventually spoke. "I'm just going to hear their offer. I wouldn't - and for that matter can't - accept their offer without talking to you first. At this stage it's all a negotiating process anyway. That's why they're trying to find ways to make YOU think they can up the penalty. We have our own investigators to look into this stuff as well. But the negotiations, I'm good at this. They'll need to change their pants after they see me coming."
"You're-- You are good, right? Promise?" Banjo looked into Edgar's desperate eyes.
Banjo smiled back warmly.
"Mate, I somehow managed to talk the best woman I've ever known into marrying me, and all it cost me was taking her name. And given when we met, I didn't have one of me own... I think I made a pretty good deal."
He got to his feet and walked to the door.
"I'll level though... she maaaaaay have been a little sweet on opposing counsel. But it won't matter. You'll see."
And with that he was gone.
Edgar had his head on the table. The cuffs still hurt and were now connected to a loop holding him here in this tight room that they wouldn't let him out of. It'd been hours.
A practised double windsor, resting on a dress shirt with an exorbitant thread count, bounces with a confident gait.
They had him. They kept talking about Mexico, but he'd brought this coke across from Texas. Just because he was Latino they thought he was Mexican? This was fucked. Kept talking about how the Feds would turn him inside out. They all knew they had him. They pulled all the bags out right in front of him. Maybe he should just--
The door opened. In walked a blonde man, with a crisp suit and a swagger all his own.
"Hey, I'm Banjo de León fro--"
"No frickin' way you're Latino, man..."
Banjo blinked twice.
"--and with that I think we can put a heavy line through 'Incompetency to stand trial'. Yes, you're very astute."
He rounded the table and put his case on the floor.
"As I was saying... I'm Banjo de León from 'de León, Alvarez, Prescott and Attorneys', now whilst--"
"Whoa... name partner." Edgar was surprised that he'd received this kind of attention.
"I'm not a name partner." He replied, going through the motions of a conversation he'd had all too many times already.
"Your father, then?" Edgar assumed. They always assume.
"My wife, as it bloody happens. But you couldn't afford her, mate. So you're stuck with me if you'll have me. Now... as I was trying to say, 'de León, Alvarez, Prescott and Attorneys' we're not generally known for criminal defense. We're known as a civil rights law firm by reputation. I, however, am entirely focused on criminal defense within our firm, and I assure you I am the best you'll find. Unless you want to take your chances on the crapshoot that is the Public Defenders Office." He produced a small box of business cards and slid one across the table top.
Edgar scooped the card up in both cuffed hands like it was a communion wafer, and clung to it like a life preserver. "How-- how much is this going to cost me..?"
"Well, since we're a civil rights law firm, a lot of what I do is actually pro bono work. Which means--"
"You mean you'll work for free..?!"
"Well... on occasion, the judge can occasionally determine that pro bono counsel be renumerated by the state for some or all of our costs if we win in a really over the top fashion, in which case, you wouldn't see THAT money. But yeah. That won't be you. No costs up front."
"Oh thank God, man! They've real--" Banjo silenced him with a hand gesture and "Ah!"
"These rooms are all mic-ed up." He explained.
"Wait, they can do that? You're my lawyer, man?!"
"Well, I'm pleased to hear that." He said as he removed the standard forms and pen from his case, to lay on the table in front of Edgar, before closing the case back up. "And yeah, it wouldn't be admissible in a court room, because of privilege, which you're right to refer to. But anyone listening in might still be tempted to use that for lines of invstigation, and then mysteriously the audio for the room goes missing orrrr they claim it was never recording at the time. You get what I'm saying? So let's not tempt fate, mate. These people are already screwing you to the wall, let's not offer to buy them dinner."
"They're-- they're screwing me?"
"That'd be my bet. Let me guess, they got you in here, started talking about how you were seen driving up from the Mexican border, all of a sudden the Feds are getting mentioned...?
"Yea-- yeah, man! That's exactly what they did!"
"Figures... Trafficking - WHICH NO ONE IS SAYING YOU EVEN DID - is a second degree felony." He raised his voice for Edgar's benefit, having mentioned the mics. It was covered by privilege and meant nothing, but the client wouldn't actually SEE him fighting for him for a while yet, and it was important to make sure they maintain that belief in their lawyer always being on their side. Always fighting. Relentless. "First charge is nine years... unless they can tie you to bringing it in from south of the border. Then it jumps to Federal and they can nail you for twenty years. Stronger negotiating position."
"Those-- those muthafuckas!" He hurriedly signed the paperwork.
"Yeah. Yeah, I hear a lot of that." He took the paperwork back and put it back in his case.
"So... so what do we do from here?"
"Well, I have your casefile, from here I'm going to go down to the ADA's office and see what kind of offer I get out of them."
"Wait-- wait, we're, we're taking a plea..?"
Banjo said nothing but gave a look of pity across the table that all but said "Mate, they hauled bag after bag of cocaine out of your car directly in front of you."
A few beats passed before he eventually spoke. "I'm just going to hear their offer. I wouldn't - and for that matter can't - accept their offer without talking to you first. At this stage it's all a negotiating process anyway. That's why they're trying to find ways to make YOU think they can up the penalty. We have our own investigators to look into this stuff as well. But the negotiations, I'm good at this. They'll need to change their pants after they see me coming."
"You're-- You are good, right? Promise?" Banjo looked into Edgar's desperate eyes.
Banjo smiled back warmly.
"Mate, I somehow managed to talk the best woman I've ever known into marrying me, and all it cost me was taking her name. And given when we met, I didn't have one of me own... I think I made a pretty good deal."
He got to his feet and walked to the door.
"I'll level though... she maaaaaay have been a little sweet on opposing counsel. But it won't matter. You'll see."
And with that he was gone.
- - -
Banjo stood with his tie over his left shoulder, tucked into his suit, and the wide stance of a local at the bench of 'Julie's' foodtruck, hunched over his breakfast burrito.
"I dunno how you keep nailin' this every morning, Ferd..."
"Sure you do. Same ingredients. Same process. Lots of practice."
"Alchemy. Magic most foul. Got it. Say no more." He punctuated it with a massive bite.
Fernando turned back to the grill, to prep the next white slip. He called out over his shoulder "So'd you hear about this kid they got downtown. Word is they've got one even you couldn't flip."
"Nnng..?" Banjo said, barely paying attention, basking in the experience of his food.
"Yeah. Highway patrol caught this kid with a trunk full of cocaine..."
"Mmm..." Banjo listened, but his jaw was otherwise preoccupied.
"Yeah, say they gonna nail his ass to the floor..." Fernando kept his back to Banjo. Working away at the grill. A loud hissing noise came as the next ticket's ingredients hit the hotplate.
"DA said he'd bet a million bucks he's got this kid nailed, dead to rights. So I thought I'd tell you, and take my own action. Bet you two grand you couldn't flip him."
Banjo put his burrito down and pinched his brow in frustration. "Ferd... whaddaya doin'?"
"What, I can't make a friendly wager... see if the pendejo DA actually knows what he's talking ab--"
"Well, first of all, get your terminology right. I don't flip anyone. The Feds flip people to turn wit, and the prosecution flips witnesses to turn state. I walk 'em. And secondly, why are you treating me like I'm an idiot, Ferd? You're not betting me. You're trying to undercut my price on taking a case. Now who's this kid?"
"..."
"Ferd..? Ferd I haven't gone anywhere. I'm still right here... Feeer-errrrrd..." He picked his burrito back up and took another bite. "Dammit, that's good!"
"Julie's niece knows him..."
"Aww no, Julie? You're in on this..?"
"Please Mister Banjo, Edgar's a good boy..."
"No. No. First of all, I know you both know Banjo's the first name. You're doing that to sound more pitiful, and I haven't been eating here all this time to not have noticed that it's beneath you to not realise it. You're playin' me Julie..." He took another big bite, but Julie wouldn't let up.
"Lisa, she knew him from school, she said that Edgar Martinez was a good boy, but then his father died. All he had was his car and some gas money, Mister Banjo, and he still had to look after his mother..."
"Knock it off!" He said, with his mouth still partially full.
"...He had to drop out of school! Mister Banjo, the only way he could come close to making up the money that they relied on his father to bring in, was to start driving for bad--"
"Dammit! I'd say you just made me lose my appetite, but we all know that's not the case! It's too damn good! I'm taking this to go..." He stormed off.
The crunch of his shoes on the ground foretold his return. He grabbed a handful of napkins from the basket.
"Needed serviettes." He explained. He felt four sad eyes on him. He sighed.
"French dip sandwich. Lunchtime. I'm not bloody payin' for it. And I want you to know, that I'm not very happy with any of you..."
And with that he walked to his car.
"I dunno how you keep nailin' this every morning, Ferd..."
"Sure you do. Same ingredients. Same process. Lots of practice."
"Alchemy. Magic most foul. Got it. Say no more." He punctuated it with a massive bite.
Fernando turned back to the grill, to prep the next white slip. He called out over his shoulder "So'd you hear about this kid they got downtown. Word is they've got one even you couldn't flip."
"Nnng..?" Banjo said, barely paying attention, basking in the experience of his food.
"Yeah. Highway patrol caught this kid with a trunk full of cocaine..."
"Mmm..." Banjo listened, but his jaw was otherwise preoccupied.
"Yeah, say they gonna nail his ass to the floor..." Fernando kept his back to Banjo. Working away at the grill. A loud hissing noise came as the next ticket's ingredients hit the hotplate.
"DA said he'd bet a million bucks he's got this kid nailed, dead to rights. So I thought I'd tell you, and take my own action. Bet you two grand you couldn't flip him."
Banjo put his burrito down and pinched his brow in frustration. "Ferd... whaddaya doin'?"
"What, I can't make a friendly wager... see if the pendejo DA actually knows what he's talking ab--"
"Well, first of all, get your terminology right. I don't flip anyone. The Feds flip people to turn wit, and the prosecution flips witnesses to turn state. I walk 'em. And secondly, why are you treating me like I'm an idiot, Ferd? You're not betting me. You're trying to undercut my price on taking a case. Now who's this kid?"
"..."
"Ferd..? Ferd I haven't gone anywhere. I'm still right here... Feeer-errrrrd..." He picked his burrito back up and took another bite. "Dammit, that's good!"
"Julie's niece knows him..."
"Aww no, Julie? You're in on this..?"
"Please Mister Banjo, Edgar's a good boy..."
"No. No. First of all, I know you both know Banjo's the first name. You're doing that to sound more pitiful, and I haven't been eating here all this time to not have noticed that it's beneath you to not realise it. You're playin' me Julie..." He took another big bite, but Julie wouldn't let up.
"Lisa, she knew him from school, she said that Edgar Martinez was a good boy, but then his father died. All he had was his car and some gas money, Mister Banjo, and he still had to look after his mother..."
"Knock it off!" He said, with his mouth still partially full.
"...He had to drop out of school! Mister Banjo, the only way he could come close to making up the money that they relied on his father to bring in, was to start driving for bad--"
"Dammit! I'd say you just made me lose my appetite, but we all know that's not the case! It's too damn good! I'm taking this to go..." He stormed off.
The crunch of his shoes on the ground foretold his return. He grabbed a handful of napkins from the basket.
"Needed serviettes." He explained. He felt four sad eyes on him. He sighed.
"French dip sandwich. Lunchtime. I'm not bloody payin' for it. And I want you to know, that I'm not very happy with any of you..."
And with that he walked to his car.
Location: Bernalillo County Metropolitan Court, Metropolitan Courthouse, Albuquerque, New Mexico
Better Get A Lawyer, Son: 1.02 Get yourself a Lawyer, Son
Interaction(s): Nil
Previously: Better Get A Real Good One
The newest Assistant District Attorney stepped out of court, and down the corridor after a fine morning session. He looked over and found himself walking next to a blonde man in a fine tailored suit. Defense attorney. Had to be.
"Hey, I'm Banjo de León fro--"
"Ah, the Martinez case, right?"
"That's right."
"The guy who just saw us pull all his coke out of--"
"Not all facts are yet in evidence. Oh, and feel free to drop an 'allegedly' in there at any point in time." Banjo kept a closed mouthed smile.
"You're right. They're not yet in evidence. The coke has been seized... and I then get to enter it all - as a few people bring it in, and dump it all down on that little table, piled high - as evidence in front of a jury. I am new here, but I'm pretty sure that's how it works." The ADA didn't keep his smile closed-mouthed at all. Flashed a wide grin. Like a predator.
"If it need get that far..." Banjo said. "Now it is my client's first offense..."
"And a very interesting choice of crime for your client to make for his first offense, driving drugs in from Mexico..."
"Again... allegedly... and to be honest I'd even be careful saying that much..."
"Oh yes, and why would that be the case?"
Banjo stopped, and thought for a moment. "I'm gonna tell you a story... There was this young couple of newlyweds, named Rachel and Diego." The young ADA stopped in his tracks as Banjo had in the hallway of the courthouse, tucking himself against a wall to avoid foot-traffic and hustle and bustle. "Anyway, Rachel and Diego had always dreamed of owning their own home and had mamnaged to achieve it. Proper sized home as they wanted, but on the outskirts, near the Wienerschnitzel by the on-ramp for the Forty... even then the payments were choking them off pretty tight..."
The ADA's foot was tapping, this was dragging and going nowhere and he had places to be, he had other trial work coming up that day, and a full tray of work awaiting him back at the office.
"Anyway, when they wanted to build up a big Megamart Mall on the outskirts they were trying to buy up a lot of cheap properties by whatever means necessary to add to the development, provide additional parking, you know the drill... anyway, the people at the Megamart Mall were getting, well, let's say aggressive with their dealings. Making day-to-day life very difficult for Rachel and Diego. There were threats. People were stealing their mail... which happened to include a one-off bumper fee and due date for said fee on their home loan. More threats. Diego had to put up cameras outside his house. Those cameras got smashed. Had to re-install hidden, and recessed cameras that couldn't be so easily destroyed."
The ADA's patience was left a thread. "Alright, what's the moral of the story. Slow and steady wins the race?"
"What? No. This wasn't-- This wasn't an analogy. I know Rachel and Diego. Good people. I helped them save their house, we proved that payment was missed because of that mail theft - a Federal offense, and they send my wife and I Christmas cards every year. This wasn't that kind of story."
The ADA was incensed, he was wasting his time. "Then what?! What was the point of any of this?!"
"The point was. I know Rachel and Diego. Nice people. We get along well. And if I were to have pulled the footage on the video cameras he still has from his property and told you that you can see a very familiar sedan driving up the Forty, at the time consistent with my client's story and absolutely no clear evidence to support the baseless theory that he was driving up from Mexico, what would you say?"
The pallor dropped from the ADA's face.
"We--"
"My guess is 'Oh!', because there's not much else to be said beyond that, really. Which takes me back to before when I said '--and I'd be careful even saying that much.' Because your filed paperwork is already Doo-de-doo-de-doo-de-doo--" He mimed a walking figure up to the Judge's office with his fingers. "--well and truly on it's way to the Judge. I'm guessing you were trying to put pressure on me as some kind of power move right there, don't really care. But at this point it's something you'd have to walk back if we proceed to trial. Walking back what will likely be seen as a bad faith effort to tack on years to a plea agreement."
"Well, now that's not really a fair asse--" The ADA spoke up with half-hearted faux outrage at the attack on his character.
"Not a fair assessment? So your plan was... what... to go to trial claiming before a judge and a local jury of his peers that Edgar Martinez was hauling a load of drugs from Mexico via... what... Amarillo? Would be interesting to watch. Particularly from my vantage point on the defence bench."
"Fine... Three years."
"Really? I was thinking one."
"One year?!? He had a trunk full of cocaine!"
"Ohhhhhh that's because you're still thinking about this as about Edgar Martinez. No, no, no. I was thinking you were negotiating with... some kind of concern for self-preservation and your own career. See, because if you go up there before a judge with this, WHEN I make you walk back your cynical play here, that's going to affect how the judge sees a new ADA who hasn't really prosecuted anything in this state. Well, first impressions are a very valuable thing in our profession. I'm saying one year and letting you buy yours back."
"Two years." The young ADA threw out in a blurted counter.
"I said one year. And I didn't stutter. If I were in the mood for haggling Id have said six months and let you walk me back to a year. No. One year. And I still have to convince my client to take the deal."
The young Assistant District Attorney seethed and considered his options. "How the Hell am I supposed to swing one year with our office."
"You tell them the full story. All of it. And they'll get it. Hell, might even think you dodged a bullet." Banjo flashed a quick leer. "Either way, it's not my problem and it's not Edgar Martinez's."
He considered. "I'll take it to my office."
"Really, you're gonna crowd source this?" Banjo chuckled like he'd just been told a wry joke.
"I'm not going to let some slick little asshole defense attorney push me into making an unmakable deal." He hissed at him in frustration. "If I CAN swing one year, for a watertight case with a trunk full of cocaine, without being strung up I will call you back and you can tell your client."
Banjo's grin remained glued to his face. He enjoyed this part of the process far too much.
"You have until close of business, Prosecutor." He turned and left him in the hallway. "I'll go talk to my client, but I wouldn't drag my feet if I were you."
"Hey, I'm Banjo de León fro--"
"Ah, the Martinez case, right?"
"That's right."
"The guy who just saw us pull all his coke out of--"
"Not all facts are yet in evidence. Oh, and feel free to drop an 'allegedly' in there at any point in time." Banjo kept a closed mouthed smile.
"You're right. They're not yet in evidence. The coke has been seized... and I then get to enter it all - as a few people bring it in, and dump it all down on that little table, piled high - as evidence in front of a jury. I am new here, but I'm pretty sure that's how it works." The ADA didn't keep his smile closed-mouthed at all. Flashed a wide grin. Like a predator.
"If it need get that far..." Banjo said. "Now it is my client's first offense..."
"And a very interesting choice of crime for your client to make for his first offense, driving drugs in from Mexico..."
"Again... allegedly... and to be honest I'd even be careful saying that much..."
"Oh yes, and why would that be the case?"
Banjo stopped, and thought for a moment. "I'm gonna tell you a story... There was this young couple of newlyweds, named Rachel and Diego." The young ADA stopped in his tracks as Banjo had in the hallway of the courthouse, tucking himself against a wall to avoid foot-traffic and hustle and bustle. "Anyway, Rachel and Diego had always dreamed of owning their own home and had mamnaged to achieve it. Proper sized home as they wanted, but on the outskirts, near the Wienerschnitzel by the on-ramp for the Forty... even then the payments were choking them off pretty tight..."
The ADA's foot was tapping, this was dragging and going nowhere and he had places to be, he had other trial work coming up that day, and a full tray of work awaiting him back at the office.
"Anyway, when they wanted to build up a big Megamart Mall on the outskirts they were trying to buy up a lot of cheap properties by whatever means necessary to add to the development, provide additional parking, you know the drill... anyway, the people at the Megamart Mall were getting, well, let's say aggressive with their dealings. Making day-to-day life very difficult for Rachel and Diego. There were threats. People were stealing their mail... which happened to include a one-off bumper fee and due date for said fee on their home loan. More threats. Diego had to put up cameras outside his house. Those cameras got smashed. Had to re-install hidden, and recessed cameras that couldn't be so easily destroyed."
The ADA's patience was left a thread. "Alright, what's the moral of the story. Slow and steady wins the race?"
"What? No. This wasn't-- This wasn't an analogy. I know Rachel and Diego. Good people. I helped them save their house, we proved that payment was missed because of that mail theft - a Federal offense, and they send my wife and I Christmas cards every year. This wasn't that kind of story."
The ADA was incensed, he was wasting his time. "Then what?! What was the point of any of this?!"
"The point was. I know Rachel and Diego. Nice people. We get along well. And if I were to have pulled the footage on the video cameras he still has from his property and told you that you can see a very familiar sedan driving up the Forty, at the time consistent with my client's story and absolutely no clear evidence to support the baseless theory that he was driving up from Mexico, what would you say?"
The pallor dropped from the ADA's face.
"We--"
"My guess is 'Oh!', because there's not much else to be said beyond that, really. Which takes me back to before when I said '--and I'd be careful even saying that much.' Because your filed paperwork is already Doo-de-doo-de-doo-de-doo--" He mimed a walking figure up to the Judge's office with his fingers. "--well and truly on it's way to the Judge. I'm guessing you were trying to put pressure on me as some kind of power move right there, don't really care. But at this point it's something you'd have to walk back if we proceed to trial. Walking back what will likely be seen as a bad faith effort to tack on years to a plea agreement."
"Well, now that's not really a fair asse--" The ADA spoke up with half-hearted faux outrage at the attack on his character.
"Not a fair assessment? So your plan was... what... to go to trial claiming before a judge and a local jury of his peers that Edgar Martinez was hauling a load of drugs from Mexico via... what... Amarillo? Would be interesting to watch. Particularly from my vantage point on the defence bench."
"Fine... Three years."
"Really? I was thinking one."
"One year?!? He had a trunk full of cocaine!"
"Ohhhhhh that's because you're still thinking about this as about Edgar Martinez. No, no, no. I was thinking you were negotiating with... some kind of concern for self-preservation and your own career. See, because if you go up there before a judge with this, WHEN I make you walk back your cynical play here, that's going to affect how the judge sees a new ADA who hasn't really prosecuted anything in this state. Well, first impressions are a very valuable thing in our profession. I'm saying one year and letting you buy yours back."
"Two years." The young ADA threw out in a blurted counter.
"I said one year. And I didn't stutter. If I were in the mood for haggling Id have said six months and let you walk me back to a year. No. One year. And I still have to convince my client to take the deal."
The young Assistant District Attorney seethed and considered his options. "How the Hell am I supposed to swing one year with our office."
"You tell them the full story. All of it. And they'll get it. Hell, might even think you dodged a bullet." Banjo flashed a quick leer. "Either way, it's not my problem and it's not Edgar Martinez's."
He considered. "I'll take it to my office."
"Really, you're gonna crowd source this?" Banjo chuckled like he'd just been told a wry joke.
"I'm not going to let some slick little asshole defense attorney push me into making an unmakable deal." He hissed at him in frustration. "If I CAN swing one year, for a watertight case with a trunk full of cocaine, without being strung up I will call you back and you can tell your client."
Banjo's grin remained glued to his face. He enjoyed this part of the process far too much.
"You have until close of business, Prosecutor." He turned and left him in the hallway. "I'll go talk to my client, but I wouldn't drag my feet if I were you."
- - -
"A year..? I'd have to go to prison for a year?"
It was always difficult doing this part. No matter how good the deal. If it involved a term of imprisonment, it never came easy. Understandably so.
"Yes. But given the maximum is nine years for your sentence, if found guilty, one year is pretty-- well, I'm hesitant to say it's a great deal, because I'm not the one doing the time. But it's beyond what would usually be considered reasonable given the circumstances."
"It-- it is?"
"Like I said... he had to change his pants." Banjo tried to offer a warm smile.
"Well... what happens now?" Edgar asked.
"Well, assuming he gets clearance to sign off on the deal, he calls me back and let's me know it's on. Then, assuming this is what YOU want, there's paperwork and documentation to fill out that becomes activated upon your submission of a guilty plea, which would take place at a preliminary hearing. At which point you'd be taken into custody and transferred to prison from where you're being held, and go through processing. With the year's penalty starting that date. Since it's part of plea bargaining, there'd be no knocking time off on time served, but a year's also considerably less time in the first place than you'd likely get if found guilty."
Edgar looked nervous. A whole year in prison. Could he-- what would that even be like? Could he make it through that?
"Do you-- do you think I could make it through that? A whole year?"
Banjo sighed, there was no easy and honest way of doing this. Any effort to spare the client in one way would be sacrificing the other. It was not a situation where compromise was possible.
"I've had clients do thirty days. I've got clients doing multiple years. I'm not going to lie and say it's ever easy... or like a really bad summer camp, or the worst school you've ever attended... but I can honestly say, for shorter termed sentences - and this is all relative - the bigger reason to not take it is the question of what will happen when you get back out, than the horrors when you're in. And don't take that wrong. It will be horrible when you're in." Banjo kept his voice down, and it almost seemed muffled beyond the pair of them behind his hunched shoulders.
"When you come out, there's no return to the status quo. You'll be treated differently everywhere. You're going to have even more trouble finding legitimate work. Taking this deal... what you get back from the years you'll have taken off your sentence, they won't be the same as your existence before you got arrested. They just won't. If you're scared of potentially having to be in there and ACTUALLY SURVIVING for five to nine, then yes. I get it. On paper it's a fantastic deal. A single year, when you could have been serving nine. But it doesn't factor in everything that comes with telling society that you're guilty."
"You don't think I should take it?"
Banjo tried to arrest the way the conversation was going by raising his hands up, palms out.
"Whoa... that's not what I'm saying. What I AM saying is that this isn't the kind of decision you can make just seeing the number one, the number nine, and thinking 'this' is a Hell of a lot bloody better than 'that'. Even if it is. Because there's still pain that comes immediately with 'this' that would outright not be felt with an acquittal or positive verdict."
"If I served nine, when I get out wouldn't I have the same problems? And they hauled bag after bag from my own car. What are the odds you could even get me an acquittal or positive verdict? At least when I get out, I could help my Moms, man. I go for nine years... she might not even make it that long. She just lost Pops already."
Banjo shrugged. An honest gesture, if somewhat callous. "But that's what I'm saying. I can't make this decision for you. Has to be by you, what's right for you, based on your knowledge of what the different options mean and their consequences."
"So if we get the greenlight for the one, what do YOU want?"
Edgar hunched over thinking. In the end it was the thought of his own mother which made the decision for him. Just as it had made the other decisions which led him to where he sat right now. In the 'Visitation Room' in stir.
"I mean-- I've gotta take the one and done, man."
It was always difficult doing this part. No matter how good the deal. If it involved a term of imprisonment, it never came easy. Understandably so.
"Yes. But given the maximum is nine years for your sentence, if found guilty, one year is pretty-- well, I'm hesitant to say it's a great deal, because I'm not the one doing the time. But it's beyond what would usually be considered reasonable given the circumstances."
"It-- it is?"
"Like I said... he had to change his pants." Banjo tried to offer a warm smile.
"Well... what happens now?" Edgar asked.
"Well, assuming he gets clearance to sign off on the deal, he calls me back and let's me know it's on. Then, assuming this is what YOU want, there's paperwork and documentation to fill out that becomes activated upon your submission of a guilty plea, which would take place at a preliminary hearing. At which point you'd be taken into custody and transferred to prison from where you're being held, and go through processing. With the year's penalty starting that date. Since it's part of plea bargaining, there'd be no knocking time off on time served, but a year's also considerably less time in the first place than you'd likely get if found guilty."
Edgar looked nervous. A whole year in prison. Could he-- what would that even be like? Could he make it through that?
"Do you-- do you think I could make it through that? A whole year?"
Banjo sighed, there was no easy and honest way of doing this. Any effort to spare the client in one way would be sacrificing the other. It was not a situation where compromise was possible.
"I've had clients do thirty days. I've got clients doing multiple years. I'm not going to lie and say it's ever easy... or like a really bad summer camp, or the worst school you've ever attended... but I can honestly say, for shorter termed sentences - and this is all relative - the bigger reason to not take it is the question of what will happen when you get back out, than the horrors when you're in. And don't take that wrong. It will be horrible when you're in." Banjo kept his voice down, and it almost seemed muffled beyond the pair of them behind his hunched shoulders.
"When you come out, there's no return to the status quo. You'll be treated differently everywhere. You're going to have even more trouble finding legitimate work. Taking this deal... what you get back from the years you'll have taken off your sentence, they won't be the same as your existence before you got arrested. They just won't. If you're scared of potentially having to be in there and ACTUALLY SURVIVING for five to nine, then yes. I get it. On paper it's a fantastic deal. A single year, when you could have been serving nine. But it doesn't factor in everything that comes with telling society that you're guilty."
"You don't think I should take it?"
Banjo tried to arrest the way the conversation was going by raising his hands up, palms out.
"Whoa... that's not what I'm saying. What I AM saying is that this isn't the kind of decision you can make just seeing the number one, the number nine, and thinking 'this' is a Hell of a lot bloody better than 'that'. Even if it is. Because there's still pain that comes immediately with 'this' that would outright not be felt with an acquittal or positive verdict."
"If I served nine, when I get out wouldn't I have the same problems? And they hauled bag after bag from my own car. What are the odds you could even get me an acquittal or positive verdict? At least when I get out, I could help my Moms, man. I go for nine years... she might not even make it that long. She just lost Pops already."
Banjo shrugged. An honest gesture, if somewhat callous. "But that's what I'm saying. I can't make this decision for you. Has to be by you, what's right for you, based on your knowledge of what the different options mean and their consequences."
"So if we get the greenlight for the one, what do YOU want?"
Edgar hunched over thinking. In the end it was the thought of his own mother which made the decision for him. Just as it had made the other decisions which led him to where he sat right now. In the 'Visitation Room' in stir.
"I mean-- I've gotta take the one and done, man."
Location: Bernalillo County Metropolitan Court, Metropolitan Courthouse, Albuquerque, New Mexico
Better Get A Lawyer, Son: 1.03 Get Yourself a Suit And Tie
Interaction(s): Nil
Previously: Get Yourself A Lawyer Son
"A year?!? I don't get it, I thought you said you had a clean bust, clear case."
"I do. But--"
The younger Assistant District Attorney was following an older colleague around the office whilst he made stops at various desks and the photocopier.
"Then what's the problem?"
"Well, it's this slimeball defense attorney..."
"Isn't it always..."
"Says he's got evidence to walk back the charge for crossing the Mexican border..."
"So drop the Fed charge."
"Yeah, but I papered the charge. It's already gone to the judge. He says when he makes me walk it back he's going to dress me down in front of the judge, with his stupid shitbag accent..."
The older man stopped in his tracks and his neck straightened up.
"Wait-- accent..?"
"Yeah, it's weird. He's got this Mexican name, which he even mispronounces with this stupid accent from like, Britain, or Austra--"
"Banjo de Leon..? Fuck that. Take the opportunity he gave you. Call him back, he'll drop it to six months. Doesn't matter. Take the plea." The older man turned and faced him, and actually got animated with his advice. His hands a quick flurry of gestures, before he went back to what he'd previously been doing.
"Wait, what--? What happened to clean bust, clear case?"
"Don't care. You're not ready for the kind of buzzsaw you're staring down. Hell, you don't even have the sense to realize that's what you're looking at. Not this early in your career, you don't want any of that. Make him plead it out. Shit, three months if it gets you out of that woodchipper." He handed back paperwork to someone working behind a desk, and moved on, before noticing the younger man wasn't still following.
The young ADA had stopped in his tracks, barely able to believe what he was hearing. He snorted derisively.
"What?" The elser statesman of the prosecution asked.
"You're scared of him. Make it sound like he should be wearing a cape. Acting like he's Superman or something."
"I am scared of him. For you. You've nowhere near the level of experience necessary to be dealing with this guy, ESPECIALLY with a case that looks open and shut from the outside. This guy will embarrass you. And he's not Superman..." With an 'onwards' nod of his head he gestured for the new ADA to keep walking.
"...Superman has a moral code." He finished after the younger man was once again by his side.
"He's more like-- I dunno-- Nineties Michael Jordan. You don't give him any reason to be pissed off. Hope he tries to sleepwalk his way to a breezy twenty-five... thirty-five points... and then hope you can sneak up on him and steal a game here and there where he's not looking. In your case... Make him plead it out. Build your career around him until you're established. Hope you catch him on a breezy day later once your reputation is solid."
"I did call him an asshole. I think my exact words were, 'some slick little asshole defense attorney'..."
"Or you could kick the hornet's nest and call him an asshole..." He looked up to the sky as if he couldn't believe the stupidity of the younger man.
"It's a car full of cocaine, though..."
"It's a two-bit driver, with no apparent connection to his higher ups. The actual dealers or cartel will replace him by the end of... well this sentence. They'd have already replaced him."
"You want me to take the plea bargain?"
"I think it would be best if you did. And I'll explain it up the chain. You wouldn't be the only one to have dodged him early. But a lot of the people who didn't-- don't work here anymore. So, your choice."
"Yeah. Alright."
The older man still sensed resistance. "Look... how old are you?"
"I'm twenty eight."
"Exactly, you're twenty eight. And how many other Assistant District Attorneys are operating in major US cities under the age of thirty five?"
"And how am I supposed to know that?"
The older man raised his eyebrows, refusing to give that response any dignity whatsoever. The young wunderkind ADA from New York city who had moved to New Mexico to be the youngest operating ADA in any major city in the country, had a clipped article framed at his workspace. Playing dumb did not impress him at all.
"Alright, none. What's your point?" He admitted his knowledge.
"My point is, you moved here to get that put on your resume, and presumably when you move back in five or ten years--"
"I'm not--!"
"I didn't interview you. I'm not your boss, and I'm not stupid. For what its worth, they're not either." He pointed to the closed door of the District Attorney's office. "You moved here short term for your career. I'm not mad. Not even disappointed. So let's be straight here. You got offered an ADA gig at a ridiculously young age in an attempt to lure a high-potential, high-profile young prosecutor down here. They get your talents however long you stay, you get the resume plaudits, until you hit a high profile enough case that gets New York looking in this direction... at which point the resume speaks for itself, and they bring you back as an ADA to New York. And you've shaved ten to fifteen years off your waiting period - Youngest ADA in New York is about twenty years older than you right now, I believe. And because of your added years of experience in the role, quickly put yourself in the frontrunning position of District Attorney successor over enough time as well. Yes?"
He'd checked pretty much every box of his career plan that he'd mapped out.
"..."
"I'll take that as a 'Yes' or at least a 'Close enough'. Well, what you don't realise is, this guy... he's the guy who derails all of that. This is the heavy puncher that the young boxer ducks early in his career, because you're in no way ready to deal with this, so that you can go on to be the Heavyweight champ one day. Maybe you take him on later, maybe you don't. But you sure as Hell don't make that fight today."
"Why are you so worried that this guy's going to beat me?"
"I'm not worried he's going to beat you. Any one of these attorney's could suddenly have a good day, evidence drops in their lap, a witness disintegrates on the stand, a good session turns one way one day. You're going to get beaten by one of them one of these days."
"Then why?"
"Because you care about your career, about your reputation, and this guy isn't just going to beat you. He's going to embarrass you. If you get on the wrong side of this guy and set foot in that courtroom, he's going to dance around on you and make it look like you don't even belong up there."
"And what would you do, when you were my age, if you had someone your age coming at you telling you to get this guy to plead it out, to less than a year for a trunk full of coke."
"Me? Oh, I'd take it to trial." The older man said in a matter-of-fact way.
"Ex-ACKT--!"
"But then I have no problem with being an Assistant District Attorney in Albuquerque at age fifty three... I'm right where I want to be."
The younger man stopped in his tracks.
"Alright, alright... I get your point. I'll get him to plead it out."
"Good luck. Hope he lets you out."
"Wait-- What?" This whole thing was only sounding worse by the minute.
"Well, you did call the man an asshole. And he can be... competitive."
"So? The man has a client."
"He does. But if he thinks he can beat you, he will voice as much to the client. As much hardball as you think he's playing in plea agreement, this isn't what he does. He's a trial attorney. That isn't because he's incapable of being convincing..."
"I do. But--"
The younger Assistant District Attorney was following an older colleague around the office whilst he made stops at various desks and the photocopier.
"Then what's the problem?"
"Well, it's this slimeball defense attorney..."
"Isn't it always..."
"Says he's got evidence to walk back the charge for crossing the Mexican border..."
"So drop the Fed charge."
"Yeah, but I papered the charge. It's already gone to the judge. He says when he makes me walk it back he's going to dress me down in front of the judge, with his stupid shitbag accent..."
The older man stopped in his tracks and his neck straightened up.
"Wait-- accent..?"
"Yeah, it's weird. He's got this Mexican name, which he even mispronounces with this stupid accent from like, Britain, or Austra--"
"Banjo de Leon..? Fuck that. Take the opportunity he gave you. Call him back, he'll drop it to six months. Doesn't matter. Take the plea." The older man turned and faced him, and actually got animated with his advice. His hands a quick flurry of gestures, before he went back to what he'd previously been doing.
"Wait, what--? What happened to clean bust, clear case?"
"Don't care. You're not ready for the kind of buzzsaw you're staring down. Hell, you don't even have the sense to realize that's what you're looking at. Not this early in your career, you don't want any of that. Make him plead it out. Shit, three months if it gets you out of that woodchipper." He handed back paperwork to someone working behind a desk, and moved on, before noticing the younger man wasn't still following.
The young ADA had stopped in his tracks, barely able to believe what he was hearing. He snorted derisively.
"What?" The elser statesman of the prosecution asked.
"You're scared of him. Make it sound like he should be wearing a cape. Acting like he's Superman or something."
"I am scared of him. For you. You've nowhere near the level of experience necessary to be dealing with this guy, ESPECIALLY with a case that looks open and shut from the outside. This guy will embarrass you. And he's not Superman..." With an 'onwards' nod of his head he gestured for the new ADA to keep walking.
"...Superman has a moral code." He finished after the younger man was once again by his side.
"He's more like-- I dunno-- Nineties Michael Jordan. You don't give him any reason to be pissed off. Hope he tries to sleepwalk his way to a breezy twenty-five... thirty-five points... and then hope you can sneak up on him and steal a game here and there where he's not looking. In your case... Make him plead it out. Build your career around him until you're established. Hope you catch him on a breezy day later once your reputation is solid."
"I did call him an asshole. I think my exact words were, 'some slick little asshole defense attorney'..."
"Or you could kick the hornet's nest and call him an asshole..." He looked up to the sky as if he couldn't believe the stupidity of the younger man.
"It's a car full of cocaine, though..."
"It's a two-bit driver, with no apparent connection to his higher ups. The actual dealers or cartel will replace him by the end of... well this sentence. They'd have already replaced him."
"You want me to take the plea bargain?"
"I think it would be best if you did. And I'll explain it up the chain. You wouldn't be the only one to have dodged him early. But a lot of the people who didn't-- don't work here anymore. So, your choice."
"Yeah. Alright."
The older man still sensed resistance. "Look... how old are you?"
"I'm twenty eight."
"Exactly, you're twenty eight. And how many other Assistant District Attorneys are operating in major US cities under the age of thirty five?"
"And how am I supposed to know that?"
The older man raised his eyebrows, refusing to give that response any dignity whatsoever. The young wunderkind ADA from New York city who had moved to New Mexico to be the youngest operating ADA in any major city in the country, had a clipped article framed at his workspace. Playing dumb did not impress him at all.
"Alright, none. What's your point?" He admitted his knowledge.
"My point is, you moved here to get that put on your resume, and presumably when you move back in five or ten years--"
"I'm not--!"
"I didn't interview you. I'm not your boss, and I'm not stupid. For what its worth, they're not either." He pointed to the closed door of the District Attorney's office. "You moved here short term for your career. I'm not mad. Not even disappointed. So let's be straight here. You got offered an ADA gig at a ridiculously young age in an attempt to lure a high-potential, high-profile young prosecutor down here. They get your talents however long you stay, you get the resume plaudits, until you hit a high profile enough case that gets New York looking in this direction... at which point the resume speaks for itself, and they bring you back as an ADA to New York. And you've shaved ten to fifteen years off your waiting period - Youngest ADA in New York is about twenty years older than you right now, I believe. And because of your added years of experience in the role, quickly put yourself in the frontrunning position of District Attorney successor over enough time as well. Yes?"
He'd checked pretty much every box of his career plan that he'd mapped out.
"..."
"I'll take that as a 'Yes' or at least a 'Close enough'. Well, what you don't realise is, this guy... he's the guy who derails all of that. This is the heavy puncher that the young boxer ducks early in his career, because you're in no way ready to deal with this, so that you can go on to be the Heavyweight champ one day. Maybe you take him on later, maybe you don't. But you sure as Hell don't make that fight today."
"Why are you so worried that this guy's going to beat me?"
"I'm not worried he's going to beat you. Any one of these attorney's could suddenly have a good day, evidence drops in their lap, a witness disintegrates on the stand, a good session turns one way one day. You're going to get beaten by one of them one of these days."
"Then why?"
"Because you care about your career, about your reputation, and this guy isn't just going to beat you. He's going to embarrass you. If you get on the wrong side of this guy and set foot in that courtroom, he's going to dance around on you and make it look like you don't even belong up there."
"And what would you do, when you were my age, if you had someone your age coming at you telling you to get this guy to plead it out, to less than a year for a trunk full of coke."
"Me? Oh, I'd take it to trial." The older man said in a matter-of-fact way.
"Ex-ACKT--!"
"But then I have no problem with being an Assistant District Attorney in Albuquerque at age fifty three... I'm right where I want to be."
The younger man stopped in his tracks.
"Alright, alright... I get your point. I'll get him to plead it out."
"Good luck. Hope he lets you out."
"Wait-- What?" This whole thing was only sounding worse by the minute.
"Well, you did call the man an asshole. And he can be... competitive."
"So? The man has a client."
"He does. But if he thinks he can beat you, he will voice as much to the client. As much hardball as you think he's playing in plea agreement, this isn't what he does. He's a trial attorney. That isn't because he's incapable of being convincing..."
- - -
Story arc to be continued here, for anyone interested...
OP
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
32 min ago
B A N J O
B A N J O
B A N J O
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Andrew(?) "Banjo" Olyphant (Almost certainly not...) _________________________________________________________ April18th | 22 | Caucasian _________________________________________________________ Marital Status | Male | Heterosexual _________________________________________________________ As yet unrevealed | As yet unrevealed | Australia _________________________________________________________ Strigidae | Team 21 - Blackjack C H A R A C T E R S T A T S _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S T A T S ◼ B U I L D || Lean/Athletic ◼ H A I R C O L O U R || Light brown ◼ E Y E C O L O U R || Blue ◼ H E I G H T || 6'0" ◼ W E I G H T || 170 lbs ◼ S C A R S || Nil ◼ T A T T O O S || Nil ◼ P I E R C I N G S || Nil ◼ O T H E R || Dishevelled | C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T Banjo was stuffed in an orphanage/care facility from before he could remember until he reached school age. He was then retrieved from this care facility at school age and relocated to a boarding school, by an intermediary he calls "The Butler" due to the man's dress and being provided with no other name. He was then moved around to different boarding schools within Australia - sometimes extremely lengthy trips across state lines - at various times, sometimes for questionable behaviour, and sometimes for seemingly no reason at all over the next ten years. On April 18th he was relocated one final time. A footlocker containing all of his worldly belongings was his luggage for an International flight to Vancouver, before the long drive up the Western Canadian coastline to Dundas Island, where he would receive more permanent schooling. The school his parents - whoever they were - had planned for years for him to attend. D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E & A E S T H E T I C D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E & A E S T H E T I C When not using his hyperhuman powers he is a dishevelled looking lean, but average looking teenage caucasian male with sun-bleached, light brown hair and blue eyes. He wears his proper school uniform to the letter of the regulations, but in a rough, untidy state. He's also taken to adorning the uniform's dress peak cap in combination with the regular uniform before school hours and as soon as the clock ticks 1601 - because he's found it irritates certain members of the faculty. When using his power he appears as jet black, due to not reflecting any light as he is absorbing it at the time. He is surrounded by an aurora corona - the effect of surrounding light bending around his person to be absorbed. M A N N E R I S M S & P E R S O N A L I T Y M A N N E R I S M S & P E R S O N A L I T Y Sorely lacking stable consistent parental figures and because he was bounced around so much to different boarding schools irrespective of his behaviour, he's prone to misbehaving and pressing boundaries. He has a strong antiauthoritarian streak and enjoys little more than talking his way out of trouble - as such he's found comfort in law and is presently considering the legal profession in his higher education. Not opposed to provoking people just for provocation's sake. Will get himself into trouble purely because he enjoys seeing if he can extricate himself from it. Can be abrasive. Will be abrasive. By anyone's definition IS abrasive. But that's all part of the charm... |
A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S H Y P E R H U M A N A B I L I T Y || P H O T O - T H E R M O K I N E T I C E N E R G Y M E T A B O L I Z A T I O N __PRIMARY CLASSIFICATION || Exoteric __SECONDARY CLASSIFICATION || Fundamental __POWER SCALE || 05 __THREAT CLASSIFICATION || Δ Banjo's HZE conversion allows him to draw upon ambient heat/energy/light in a way that enhances his musculature and creates and strengthens neural pathways, also creating a greater capacity for intelligence. The nature of his powers also means he has acute thermoception (can determine local temperature to a tenth of a degree) and tolerance to extreme heat and cold. When he uses his power, he turns completely black as ambient light is being absorbed and there is no reflected light, and appears to be surrounded by an aurora corona due to the effect of bending light around into himself. When using his power, local temperature and light will drop as he draws upon it, in proportion to how much energy he is drawing. L I M I T A T I O N S || His biggest limitation has been himself. Due to the intelligence gained from early use of his powers, he now sees great potential for things to go wrong in using or abusing those powers - to the extent where he believes he even has the capacity to cause the complete heat death of the planet, solar system and universe beyond. He is, of course, not anywhere near capable of this at this point. He merely fears his potential. Whilst his powers create new neural pathways, and clear and strengthen existing neural pathways, they do not bestow upon him any NEW knowledge or intelligence. They merely grant him the capacity for increased intelligence (and perhaps grant focus/allow him to think more clearly). Likewise, the way his powers affect his musculature are exponential working off his initial baseline strength... so in other words, he would not have to use his powers to absorb as much energy in order to lift a large object if he were well trained and fit, as he would if lazy and ignoring any kind of training regiment. He won't use his powers in close contact of others, and is even extremely loathe to use them indoors in general. W E A K N E S S E S || As well as his own fear of his powers he's been having recurring nightmares where he finds himself encased in a small, confined, vacuum-sealed space - acute claustrophoblia. At this point his power taps out at barely above a peak-level human (think Super Soldier Serum enhanced human ala Captain America) in terms of strength, speed, agility, stamina. He's potentially capable of exponentially more though, but again his unwillingness to take that plunge, and see the true depths of his capabilities, stands in his way. Use of his powers whilst in direct contact with another COULD potentially cause devastating harm and/or death, since he draws heat and light. This is not a baseless fear he has. So far he has never hurt anyone in this way, though. He's just terrified of it happening. Whilst intelligent and quick-witted, he's fairly young and in many ways still naive. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) We're finally at that point where we address all of those questions of his origin! What exactly IS his real name? Who is the Butler? Who tampered with his memories? Why have they been running all of these years? Why the claustrophobia, and the nagging fears he sometimes gets? There ARE actal answers to these questions... and we're gonna get to 'em! | S K I L L S & T A L E N T S S K I L L S & T A L E N T S S K I L L S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ L O C K P I C K I N G || Banjo is capable of picking simple locks. Don't ask. It's a boarding school skill. ...which isn't uncommon for people who have spent as many hours in detention as he has. T A L E N T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ S I L V E R T O N G U E || Banjo is adept at talking his way out of trouble, or producing mitigating circumstances as well as finding technical loopholes that allow his behaviour or at least cast it in the "grey" area. He'd been called a #*$&% for a long time. Little did he know he's ACTUALLY been a naturally talented lawyer for years. C H A R A C T E R A R S E N A L C H A R A C T E R A R S E N A L A T T I R E ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ D R E S S P E A K C A P || Banjo has taken to wearing his dress peak cap outside of regulation hours when he can't technically be told off for it, because he's found that doing so grates on certain faculty members. When not dressed in his uniform, he tends to wear his own clothes, which are almost entirely op shop specials, including an impressive range of Australian band t-shirts. I T E M ( S ) ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Z I P P O L I G H T E R || Banjo carries a scratched up chrome zippo lighter and at most times a pack of smokes (Winfield Blue). He tends to only smoke when alone and working at something requiring his concentration. He'll invariably "juice" after smoking, masking the fact he ever did it from his breath and system. T O O L ( S ) ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ L O C K P I C K S || Banjo carries a small set of lock picks in a foldable travel grooming kit in his back pocket. A D D I T I O N A L N O T E S A D D I T I O N A L N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ Banjo suffers from claustraphobia, and has nightmares of being trapped in a confined space, with creeping darkness engulfing him. Due to his memories being tampered with, he's unsure of why, and his struggles with it frustrate and anger him. Unable to comprehend it, he views it as a confounding weakness in himself. After five years he still struggles to sleep in the large beds provided by P.R.C.U, having spent his life sleeping in small single beds, cots, swags and with his own warmth. He surrounds himself in a "nest" of his own clothes to try and counter it, but between the bed and the intermittent nightmares he seldom sleeps well. - P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G - P O S T C A T A L O G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ - |
P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S
P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S
P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S
E N T E R I N G I N T O Y O U R F I N A L Y E A R, W H A T A D V I C E D O Y O U H A V E T O A N E W S T U D E N T?
W H A T W E R E Y O U R A S P I R A T I O N S W H E N Y O U S T A R T E D H E R E? W H A T C H A N G E D, W H A T S T A Y E D T H E S A M E?
I F Y O U C O U L D M A K E O N E C H A N G E T O Y O U R T I M E A T P . R . C . U ., W H A T W O U L D I T B E?
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________"Well, shit...
...
...get y'self a better bloody mentor, I s'pose. F'r a start..."
...
...get y'self a better bloody mentor, I s'pose. F'r a start..."
W H A T W E R E Y O U R A S P I R A T I O N S W H E N Y O U S T A R T E D H E R E? W H A T C H A N G E D, W H A T S T A Y E D T H E S A M E?
"Aspirations..? Have you met me?
...
Y'r serious..?"
*Subject Sighs*
"Alright, when I got here I figured I'd be in-and-out and off some bloody new place within two months.
We're comin' up to four years now. I'm still here. What, are we lookin' for like tangible bloody things, or-- Oh, I know! I wanted to get through school and get me BAR card. That's lookin' like that'll happen. Grades are no sweat there, and I'm all set for the BAR exam. Could prob'ly crush it tomorrow, truthbetold. Now me other grades... well, let's keep it PG, eh?
So I guess there's that. You're probably lookin' at a future lawyer."
...
Y'r serious..?"
*Subject Sighs*
"Alright, when I got here I figured I'd be in-and-out and off some bloody new place within two months.
We're comin' up to four years now. I'm still here. What, are we lookin' for like tangible bloody things, or-- Oh, I know! I wanted to get through school and get me BAR card. That's lookin' like that'll happen. Grades are no sweat there, and I'm all set for the BAR exam. Could prob'ly crush it tomorrow, truthbetold. Now me other grades... well, let's keep it PG, eh?
So I guess there's that. You're probably lookin' at a future lawyer."
I F Y O U C O U L D M A K E O N E C H A N G E T O Y O U R T I M E A T P . R . C . U ., W H A T W O U L D I T B E?
"When I told that terrorist Hyperion to go fuck himself..?
...Yeah.
...I'd probably give him the finger as I did it, if I had to do it over.
...no, wait! Double birds!"
*Subject flips off interviewer with both hands*
"That and the time I tried cafeteria sushi when Rory and Trevor were on chef duty, aside... no regrets.
Well, let me put it this way, have you ever thought of the possibilty of a raw prawn taking up the same blended space with poorly cooked - I'm not entirely sure it WAS cooked - chicken, wrapped in uncooked rice and seaweed, with a bit of avo mixed in? Yeah, uncooked rice. Bone dry, hard and crunchy. They tried to bind it with some kind of sriracha. Can you imagine that?
No..?
Well, every day I live in envy of you then.
If I couldn't go the instant sunbath cleanse, I suspect they'd have dropped me via salmonella."
...Yeah.
...I'd probably give him the finger as I did it, if I had to do it over.
...no, wait! Double birds!"
*Subject flips off interviewer with both hands*
"That and the time I tried cafeteria sushi when Rory and Trevor were on chef duty, aside... no regrets.
Well, let me put it this way, have you ever thought of the possibilty of a raw prawn taking up the same blended space with poorly cooked - I'm not entirely sure it WAS cooked - chicken, wrapped in uncooked rice and seaweed, with a bit of avo mixed in? Yeah, uncooked rice. Bone dry, hard and crunchy. They tried to bind it with some kind of sriracha. Can you imagine that?
No..?
Well, every day I live in envy of you then.
If I couldn't go the instant sunbath cleanse, I suspect they'd have dropped me via salmonella."
▅ S U P P O R T I N G C A S T
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▅ R E L A T I O N S H I P S H E E T
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☯ NEUTRAL ☯ || ☮ FRIENDS ☮ || ♫ BEST FRIENDS ♫ || § TENSE § || ♥ CRUSH ♥ || ☠ ENEMIES ☠
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OP
Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
Member
Seen
32 min ago
D E F E N D E R S O F T H E E A R T H
D E F E N D E R S O F T H E E A R T H
D E F E N D E R S O F T H E E A R T H
"An athlete, a traveler and a mad desperate scientist. Alone against an empire. But Dale never gave an inch. You had two hands, breath in your lungs. It doesn't matter what changes from there. Whether it takes a few days or ninety years. You keep fighting the fight. And then the next one. Until they're all saved, every one of us." - Doctor Hans Zarkov to and of Flash Gordon.
"Magic, my friends, is simply the art of illusions. Of course it's always important to spice up illusions with a little razzle-dazzle." - Mandrake the Magician
"You never find the Phantom. He finds you." - Old Jungle Saying
"Always figured Prince was just a name. Took a white bloke in purple to tell me I'm actually African royalty. Dear old Dad never had that talk with me, did he?" - Prince 'Lothar' Diallo
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Alex "Flash" Gordon _________________________________________________________ King of the Impossible, Saviour of the Universe _________________________________________________________ Pilot, athlete, adventurer | Interplanetary Freedom Fighter Open C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Collegiate All-American athlete Flash Gordon, one of three earthly survivors of a plane crash in the Dark Woods near Bangalla. Upon proving their adaptability and ability to survive, Zarkov incapacitated the other pair for their 'true journey' to travel to the planet Mongo - 'mad' scientist Hans Zarkov desperately sought backup after investigating a signal related to a string of horiffic global natural disasters with strange origins. Alongside of Zarkov, and fellow post-grad academic Dale Arden, herself a cartographer with a strong knowledge in geology and biology, the three stumbled upon the planet and it's authoritarian ruler Ming the Merciless who had his own plans for the trio, as well as horrible designs for the earth. Aided by three other Earthly heroes; The Phantom, Mandrake the Magician and Lothar, as well as a S.W.O.R.D Science team comprised of the expertise of Adam Strange and Adam Brashear. Flash Gordon, Dale Arden and Hans Zarkov were able to relocate the planet Mongo to another goldilocks orbit of a distant star, far beyond Ming's allies and vassel states, lost to all he knew and unable to locate the earth to seek vengeance, and escape Mongo's clutches in a ship of Zarkov's design. Now the trio explore space whilst fleeing Ming's grasp and his seemingly limitless robot army, all whilst trying to find a way home which won't lead the monstrous Ming the Merciless back to earth's doorstep. - P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G - P O S T C A T A L O G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ - C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Mandrake The Magician _________________________________________________________ Illusionist, Hypnotist, Adventuring Crime Fighter _________________________________________________________ Professional Magician & Illusionist | Err... Professional Magician & Illusionist... Open C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Mandrake the great illusionist is a master of a rapid form of hypnotism who can have subjects seeing illusions in moments, with nought but simple gestures and hand movements, and focused force of will. Being a man with such a focused interest on magic and illusion, Mandrake has a natural curiosity and can seldom see a trick he doesn't want to understand - this interest has seen him move into the field of detective work and crime solving. But given the fact he has also dabbled in actual mysticism and possesses both some degree of actual magical ability, as well as numerous magical items which have possessed remarkable properties and powers, he often finds himself squaring off with actual supernatural sorts and beings foreign either to this planet, dimension or reality. Mandrake lives in the high-tech mansion Xanadu in upstate New York, with his wife Narda, his friend and co-worker of the stage the strongman Lothar, and his chef and live-in housekeeper who he pried away into early retirement from Interpol, Hojo. Hojo's intel connections still remain, and were proven of great importance on a specific occasion where Mandrake was able to thwart an attack on the U.N, which threatened amongst other U.N. officers, one Diana Palmer. This was the first occasion Mandrake met Kit Walker, "for there are times when the Phantom leaves the jungle and walks the streets of the town like an ordinary man"#. Mandrake also owns an upscale apartment in the city of Mawitaan, the capital city of the African nation of Bangalla. This comes in particularly useful when looking into Lothar's heritage, or reuniting with an old friend... - P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G - P O S T C A T A L O G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ - C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Kit "Walker*" The Phantom _________________________________________________________ The Ghost Who Walks, Man Who Cannot Die _________________________________________________________ The Bane of Pirates Everywhere | Jungle Protector Open C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► In the jungles of the African nation of Bangalla, there is a myth about "The Ghost Who Walks", "The Man Who Cannot Die", The Phantom. Because he seems to have been around for generations, people around the world believe him to be immortal. In reality, the Phantom is descended from twenty previous generations of crime-fighters who all adopt the same persona, the same creed. When a new Phantom takes up the mantle from his dying father, he has to swear the Oath of the Skull: "I swear to devote my life to the destruction of piracy, greed, cruelty, and injustice, in all their forms, and my sons and their sons shall follow me." Today's Phantom is the twenty-first in the line. Secretly he has no superhuman powers, relying only on his wits, physical brawn, skill with his weapons and fearsome reputation to fight crime. Two signatures of the character are the two rings he wears. One has a pattern that he leaves on visitors to his region he approves of, called "The Good Mark" which marks the person as under his protection worn on the left hand, closer to the heart. The other has a skull shape and is worn on his favored punching hand, called "The Evil Mark", which leaves a skull-like scar on the enemies he punches. Furthering the myth and legend of the Phantom amongst bad men. His base is in the Deep Woods of Bangalla. The Phantom lives in the fabled Skull Cave, where all previous Phantoms are buried, and the chronicles of The Phantoms past and present are kept and written. So that each generation may learn the lessons of the past. This written knowledge has also helped continue the myth of the Phantom as an immortal figure. For how could this seemingly ageless man remember facts and details from events so long ago? The Phantom is also the Unknown Commander of Bangalla's world famous Jungle Patrol, and has been for over a hundred and fifty years. Tying him in to receiving law enforcement information, furthering his ability to fight crime. His written orders are usually delivered to a safe - wired which emits a signal to alert the second in command (currently Colonel Worubu) that orders have been left. He also has the encrypted 'X Band' radio as a form of contact. The Deep Woods are protected by the local Bandar pygmy tribe, whose proximity have them far more aware of the true nature of the Phantom - not that they would ever tell. The Chief of the Bandar tribe is Guran, Guran has been the current Phantom's friend since childhood, and remains a close friend to the 'Walker' family to this day. Guran was the best man in his wedding to Diana Palmer. The remainder of the 'Walker' family, consist of the twins, Kit (because of course) and Heloise. They also have an adopted older brother Rex King, who has recently had to spend more time away from the rest of the family learning his own responsibilities - he is the Crown Prince of neighbouring Kingdom of Baronkhan. He struggles with these responsibilities even more than most, having only known the jungle until a later age than children of the Phantom would usually leave for purposes of expanding their education. But whilst he lacks in formal education, he has a great heart and sense of justice, as one would expect in a child of the Phantom. The twins love their older brother and the feeling is mutual, with all three being raised with the same love of their parents. The Phantom has three animal helpers, a mountain wolf, Devil, who seldom if ever leaves his side, and a horse, Hero. He also has a trained falcon named Fraka, which generally remains with Guran in the Skull Cave. The Phantom shares a sense of justice with Mandrake, and as Lothar's royal heritage came to light, is one of the people Mandrake knows who is best suited to learning of his responsibilities and expectations from a people he has unfortunately had little connection with, beyond the blood that pumps through his veins from his father. The Phantom lended Flash Gordon aid when their plane crash-landed in Bangalla, before his forced trip to Mongo with Dale Arden at the hands of Zarkov. - P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G - P O S T C A T A L O G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ - C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Prince "Lothar" Diallo _________________________________________________________ Strongest Man in the World _________________________________________________________ Former Performing Strongman | Adventurer and Crime Fighter Open C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Prince 'Lothar' Diallo was raised in Liverpool by his father. He was always, less than forthcoming with the details of where exactly they came from beyond the broadest 'Africa'. His father struggled to make ends meet in their new home, but did what he could to put food on the table, with never a complaint. Young Prince used his schooling as an opportunity to branch out and find his interests. And those interests came in the form of sports and theatre. He found himself loving to perform, and with a natural ease in putting on muscle he found numerous sports clubs seeking his service. As he became more time short, he cast aside the sports clubs to focus on his love of theatre, but continued working out for its own sake. Strangely he found his practical strength just keep improving with the work, regardless of whether he had need for it. His strength almost seemed purely natural... until it seemed virtually supernatural. Then the serious roles dried up, but he found himself in different areas of demand in the business of show. He found work as a strongman/muscleman in various travelling shows, and took the paid gigs. But didn't see the purpose until a touring magician explained what service he can provide. 'Misdirection is pivotal in magic. Controlling the audience's focus. The eye naturally wants to gravitate to you, and if given just the smallest nudge by a truly proficient illusionist... Well, with you, my friend, I could hide the Brookly Bridge.' Mandrake noted that whilst he was working as a strongman, he was a stage-trained actor. And Lothar appreciated it, for most couldn't see beyond the muscles. He'd even taken to developing an accent, to maintain expectations, playing up his African roots, even though he couldn't remember ever being south of London. He had a good scowse down, for parts, but his true voice was more proper than 'proper'. He became a permanent addition to Mandrake's own show and toured the world with him, and as such he began to become embroiled in Mandrake's own extracurricular pasttimes and distractions. And all the way his prodigious strength became incredibly useful, and proved to be the difference in many cases and situations. It was just before a tour of Africa, where Prince Diallo finally asked his father where in Africa they came from, and that he might take the time to look old family up, when the whole story came out. In one tearful outpouring. 'Prince' wasn't just a name. His father was the son of the Wambesi Chieftain. And his mother had been the daughter of the Chieftain family of the Llongo and Osi-Wey tribes, in an effort to bring peace after a recent war. What he left out was that Lothar was 'Prince of the Seven Nations'. As Lothar attempted to reconnect with his roots and made it too publicly known that he was indeed looking for the tribal lands of his birth, plots and conspiracies began to be formed, as will happen with such power-shifting news. But no news in the jungle escapes the ears of the Phantom. As he went to meet and warn the newly returned 'Prince of the Seven Nations' he attempted to thwart an assassination attempt. Only to find that Lothar, with his incredible strength, had thwarted it himself. He was no less appreciative for the effort however, and formed a friendship with the Phantom in his own right. As well as a special kinship with another who had found themself in a similar position - the Phantom's adopted son Rex. Lothar generally lives and follows Mandrake around, often calling him 'Mandrake the Mealticket'. But their movements have often been swayed by Lothar's recent need to come to terms with his responsibilities as the 'Prince of the Seven Nations', for people he is struggling to reconnect with despite sharing no lived experience with them, who he must find a way to lead. - P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G - P O S T C A T A L O G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ - | C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T Three Heroic selfless defenders of justice and humanity find that the fight for justice is on an even bigger scale that they never considered. The boys names were Tim Tyler and 'Spud'. Mandrake, known as a man who could find justice and someone whose interests in challenges spanned wide, was approached with a request to find the two orphaned runaways. As always, he put the case forward to his friend, former performer and compatriot Prince 'Lothar'. The trail led them through India and Africa, as the boys last whereabouts put them working for the Ivory Patrol - a small, poorly funded group who task themselves with the destruction of the poaching industry. As the case delved deeper, and Mandrake used his many and varied means to attempt to find the boys, it looked like they had been taken, as the poachers' paths found themselves delving deeper into jungle, towards the almost untouched and unknown grounds of the Bandar - a little known pygmy tribe scarecly touched by the ever-probing hands of modern civilization. A tribe with their own interesting lore, myths, legends, and sayings. The echoes of drums became ever more prevalent as the men reached deeper into the jungle. For the Phantom has a thousand eyes and ears#. Finding the boys later, unharmed but with a strange story to tell, the natives who had lent them aid and their murmurings of a purple ghost who protected them unseen from the depths of the jungle. The tale sounded absurd, but with the boys returned completely unharmed, beyond all reason for the dangers of the jungle it left little doubt in Mandrake's mind that indeed some kind of trick was at hand. And nothing piqued his curiosity like a trick he could not yet understand. With that, his interest in the strange happenings in the Deep Woods of Bangalla began. But answers were slow in trickling out. More came his way back home, when Mandrake and Lothar thwarted an attack on the U.N., and the pair met the Bangalla representative to the U.N. and had the barest glimpse at the mysterious visage of her husband from the shadows. Who thanked the pair for their help. It wasn't until much later that a trip to Bangalla for the pair saw Mandrake and Lothar come face-to-face with the man who would be legend. The myth which somehow had spanned back to the 1500s, yet still stood before them. The trick's methodology did not get past Mandrake. But true to the magician's code, he never told a soul. A new friendship borne, amongst allies with shared values, and what would be a very useful resource on the ground in making sense of Lothar's familial past and responsibilities, as his father told a tale which unravelled his own ancestry and revealed him to be 'Prince of the seven Nations'. This was not the strangest thing to happen that year, however. A small aircraft crashed in a clearing in the Bangalla jungle; the survivors, a brilliant scientist of questionable stability and notoriety, a collegiate cartographer with a vast knowledge in geology and biology who had been interviewed by many private companies looking into space exploration, and Alex 'Flash' Gordon - collegiate All-American student-athlete, majoring in sociology. The trio found themselves surviving the depths of the dark jungle, with few questioning how there happened to be a convenient clearing in what otherwise looked like untamed forestry. The scientist, Zarkov, found himself satisfied with the pair's ability to keep themselves safe from the trials and perils of the jungle. Strangely, he seemed to act as if his approval and satisfaction was something they should seek under the circumstances, but 'Flash' was too distracted by another question which plagued him. It all seemed too easy. The worst of dangers seemed to be cleared. And he could have sworn he saw movement in the shadows. Under the pretense of foraging, Flash separated himself from the others and waded deeper into the jungle alone. Until a voice held him. A voice which could chill the bones of lesser men. A masked figure clad in purple stepped from the shadows. Both men had questions. And as the Phantom explained his purpose as a protector in these parts, and Flash explained how the trio came to be in the jungles of Bangalla, Flash began to discover his own concerns and queries about the scientist amongst them, Zarkov, as he spoke them aloud. Thoughts he hadn't previously given proper mind. The Phantom agreed that he would lead them from the jungle to Mawitaan, and watch over the trio, paying special attention to Zarkov from a distance. ...but it was in two days that a secret rocketship blasted from the jungle, tearing through the sky and beyond. Zarkov had brought the pair here to test their abiity to survive and lend support for a theory he had. A theory which would see him build a rocketship with the intention of going to the planet Mongo - for the fate of the Earth! Upon Mongo, Flash Gordon, Dr Zarkov and Dale Arden came face to face with Emperor Ming the Merciless, a cosmic authoritarian figure of immense power, resources and with vassel worlds all across the galaxy! In this world power and desire reined supreme, and ran the whims of its highest class of royalty. Upon meeting Dale Arden, Ming was instantly enamoured with taking possession of her, and saw little value in Flash Gordon, sentencing him to death on a whim like discarding rotten fruit - only for his cause to be pleaded for, by Ming's daughter the Princess Aura; who herself wanted to claim Flash Gordon for her own. These earthlings seemed rich in spirit, and hope, having come from a world ignorant to the ways of Ming the Merciless. Playthings are always more valuable before they are broken... Few things seem more exotic than a plaything from a new world. The trio discover that, in support of Zarkov's theories, Ming has been setting off a string of increasingly volatile and frequent natural disasters; earthquakes, tsunamis and volcanoes - in order to annihilate much of the world's population, and making it easier to subjugate it's survivining people into Mongo's new slave class, and stripping the earth of all of its valuable minerals, metals and rare earths. Ming has come to claim this new world entire. It is now twelve months later, and with the efforts of the Phantom and Mandrake, combined with the sacrifice of the intrepid three on Mongo, and the efforts of a 'home' contingent of Earth-bound S.W.O.R.D scientists by the names of Donald Brashear and Adam Strange, the threat has now been considered 'neutralised'. An assault on Mongo headed by Flash's trusted compatriots Mandrake and the Phantom, saw Ming's forces pushed back as they were forced to defend themselves from a revolutionary front led by Flash Gordon and allies he found in strange places upon Mongo itself. One final sacrifice from Flash, Dale and Dr Zarkov saw Mongo reloacted by newly discovered 'Zeta beam' technology to another goldilocks system, far from earth, adrift from Ming's allies and vassel planets in a corner of the universe unknown to him. Mandrake and the Phantom broke free of Mongo in time. Flash, Dale and Zarkov could not. The later trio find themselves hurtling through space, searching desperately for a way back to Earth, pursued endlessly by the vengeful Ming the Merciless. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) Why do you want to play this character, what is the driving motivation behind both this desire and the character themselves. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go? Possible Plots: T H E W O R L D ( S ) O F T H E D E F E N D E R S T H E W O R L D ( S ) O F T H E D E F E N D E R S The Planet of Ming the Merciless and his evil designs on the Earth.  The mansion home of Mandrake the Magician and Prince 'Lothar' Diallo.  The land of the Phantom  |
* For 'The Ghost Who Walks'
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Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!
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"Well, you know Pete, Prowler was never exactly the most creative name either. I work with pneumatics, not words..."
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Hobart 'Hobie' Brown | Motts Hunt, The Bronx - Formerly Harlem _________________________________________________________ Selfemployed - Pneumatics Engineering Systems Consultant _________________________________________________________ Former Criminal - Never Charged | Infiltration Specialist C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S - M I S C E L L A N E O U S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► The Hornet Armour - Hobie's current costume is a modified version of his Prowler Suit. The key differences are that utilising pneumatic blasts and drafts, caught by his glider cape, he is capable of short-distance flight. It also utilizes sedative 'stingers' which are also fired pneumatically, effective to aim over about forty feet, assuming regular weather. His suit still has precautionary grappling hooks in each gauntlet, and impact-resistant boots, capable of allowing him to withstand falls and harder landings. His boots also possess the pneumatic means to allow him to leap great heights, useful if conditions aren't the best suited for a ground based take-off. ► Skills - Whilst Hobie is a genius of sorts, he's still a specialised one. A self-made man who found his own innate gifts for working with pneumatics & fabrication, he is a creative and innovative thinker in his field. He is currently using his skills to function as an investigator/detective work, and his own skills and genius don't really transfer that way. He can make obvious inferences, and see blatant connections, but he is neither Batman, nor Vic Sage. He has no training for it, and no natural aptitude in that regard. He's just able to gain access to information by use of his brilliant suits, and feels they should be put to good use. Holding bad people accountable. - Hobie is a moderately good hacker. Again, self-taught. But he's not a miracle worker in this regard. - Hobie is a surprisingly good melee fighter for a regular human of his mere size - he attributes this to being the youngest of nine brothers who 'thought they were the Wutang Clan'. - P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G - P O S T C A T A L O G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ - | C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T Hobie Brown should have been lost in the Source. New York done enough other young men dirty like that. What's one more? The dirt poor guy, hustling to make ends meet. Made a decision to use his skills to get himself paid. Until he ran head first into a man who'd done the same once and lost far more than he ever thought possible from it. The Spider-Man. Someone who looked at him and for a moment saw where he had been, and a person - a fellow human - who hadn't done so much that there was no way back. He told Hobie what he'd learned on his darkest day. The deeper meaning of what someone from his own family had tried to tell him once. That with great power comes great responsibility. But Hobie didn't take the same message that Spider-Man did. Now, by night, Hobie uses his God-given skills, abilities and 'powers' to hold other powerful men responsible. Because, after all, with great power must come great responsibility... P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) The classic 'Second-chance man'. That's what we're getting here. Hobie was spared, given a second chance and made good with it. He has a solid career, that never happens if he goes to prison, and 'made it out'. Now he's hellbent on crushing those who would exploit people who grew up in similar circumstances - to try and give those people the chances that he had. The chance to make good. The chance to 'be more'. Captain America, the Avengers, maybe even Spider-Man bring hope. Hobie brings down giants who trample people like ants. T H E H I S T O R Y O F H O B I E T H E H I S T O R Y O F H O B I E The youngest of nine brothers, Hobie was born to Tyrone “Tiger” Brown and Josie “Jo” Brown in Harlem New York. Before Hobie can remember, his father went off to war. He is MIA and the family was receiving payment and benefits, but with nine kids they struggled to stretch so far. Only one parent with her hands full with nine young boys, in the background of the ‘crack wars’ of the mid-to-late 90s. Jo was shot in a home burglary, in an unsolved crime committed by someone doubtless seeking fast money for drugs. Rushed to Emergency, she was given a blood transfusion which was poorly screened. The transfusion infected her with HIV, back in the days when the diagnosis was viewed as a certain death sentence. Facing an impossible choice of fighting a prolonged legal battles he certainly wouldn’t live long enough to see the end of, she accepted a cash settlement for the medical ‘mishap’, and the family used the money to buy a sizable home in South Bronx. At tremendous cost, she had managed to provide and get her boys out. Their oldest brother, Abraham, had left the home already for opportunities overseas. He would return packages of money for the family periodically, as they remained in correspondence. As their mother was approaching her end, the family reached out to have him brought home, but he didn’t make it back in time. Before ‘Jo’s passing, she made the brothers swear to look out for one another – this resulted in the eight remaining boys, always remaining in close proximity. Even as some left home, they would still remain in the Bronx. The eight boys had a ‘hustle-life’ attitude to money and its procurement, but had formed a zero tolerance attitude to drugs and gangs, all having seen the impact that they had indirectly had on their own family – the drive for money for drugs which resulted in their mother being shot, and the gangs who peddled drugs to one who shot her. Direct confrontation from all eight of the Brown Boys any time someone was foolish enough to attempt to recruit one on their own, saw an unsteady truce where the family and gangs both left well enough, and each other, alone. Hobie, the youngest of his family, and in many ways the most fortunate, with seven older brothers watching over him and pushing him to meet his potential had the best grades of the group and was their hope to be the family’s first chance at going to college. He was a natural talent in many sciences and mathematics. A mishap with one of his inventions, saw him lose the opportunity as intent was read into the disaster, and he was suspended for the remainder of the school year. He later completed his schooling and got his GED, but school’s which had courted him distanced themselves after the incident, despite his pleas of innocence. Hobie had a number of jobs over the years. |
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