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Accepted Characters
The Question (Vic Sage) @Simple Unicycle
Green Lantern (Hal Jordan) @DocTachyon
The X-Men @Cybermaxx
The Winter Soldier (Bucky Barnes) @NeverEnding
Impulse (Bart Allen) @Retired
Wasp (Nadia Pym) @Hexaflexagon
Richard Dragon @WXer
Spider-Man (Miles Morales) @HenryJonesJr
Iron Fist (Orson Randall) @Hound55
Wonder Woman (Diana) @Mao Mao
Blue Beetle (Jaime Reyes) @Asura
Starfire (Koriand'r) @Hero
The Losers @Byrd Man
Captain America / Nomad (Steve Rogers) @BangoSkank

Pending Applications

Hidden 4 mos ago 4 mos ago Post by TGM
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TGM Clichéd Tsundere

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Barbara Gordon, 14 (b. 12-03-1953)
Vigilante based in Gotham City, New Jersey
Active since approximately Summer 1967

Character Concept

Last year, Barbara Gordon was at the top of the world.

A child prodigy who was taking the world of gymnastics by storm, the Gotham native was already being talked up as a potential olympic level athlete before she even hit puberty proper. She always hated it. She was good at it. It was fun. But that’s the thing about Barbara Gordon; once she feels something isn’t interesting or fun, she’s not going to be forced to do it. Her father tried to understand why she wanted to quit. Her mother yelled at her. Her closest friends found it bizarre.

Her parents complained that she had lost her inspiration, but that wasn’t true. There was someone who inspired her.

“The Caped Crusader.”

The Caped Crusader. The Bat of Gotham. The Dark Knight. Gotham’s very own vigilante, using his smarts and fists to fix what was rotten at the core of Gotham. The Falcones. The Maronis. Crazy people. Lunatics who wanted to kidnap people and sacrifice them to their fake gods. Gosh, that was a close one. Though she had to admit, it was pretty far out to see the vigilante in person. She’s been fascinated with vigilantism ever since. Inspired. The thing her parents said she couldn’t be. In an era where things seemed to be getting worse; people pushing against pretty radical stuff out of fear and cowardice. “Mutants”, Women’s Liberation, Civil Rights, Rock & Roll. She felt a kinship with fighting that kind of thing. She did hate bullies. The Justice Society was on the cusp of something great and so was Batman. She didn’t care if grown-ups thought they should be all unmasked. They were doing the right thing.

And so would she.

Essentially this is Barbara Gordon… Year Zero… in 1967-68? Roughly. Errors will be made. Fun will be had.

Largely independent of the Batman writer, though at some point he’s going to need to teach Barbara some new things. Probably on weekends. That aside, the idea here is to tell serialized pulp stories that you might not find in the modern DCU due to how advanced technology is and how it creates threats in said stories. Ultimately I have in mind to touch themes of the 60’s Women’s Liberation movement, the cultural drift due to the new generation and its counterculture, and the tension between mutants by extremists. All while Barbara stumbles around and gets her ass kicked. Hopefully, she’ll not be too incompetent.

Some storyline pitches to consider:

  • The Purifiers rounding up accused mutants and trying to execute them in Robinson Park, because of course it’s Robinson Park.
  • A film production of Dread Castle halts around Old Gotham when two cast members turn up dead. Whispers of the production being cursed happen. Babs investigates!
  • Potential crossover with the one and only Boy Wonder, though how does he stand up against the newly minted Batgirl? Will she be lectured about endangering her life? Probably!
  • Possibly some drama at Agatha Wayne’s Finishing School for Young Girls, a prepatory academy that Barbara goes to.

Key Notes

Listed below will be my scratchpad for all events, key definitions, and ongoing/potential arcs that I’ll involve myself with through this character.

The first notation of most importance is the family dynamic of the Gordon family in this universe. Jim is the newly minted Police Commissioner of the GCPD, formerly having served as the Captain of Gotham’s central precinct and Barbara’s mother serves as a Professor of foreign languages at Kane College, Gotham’s central university that is as old as it is prestigious. As mentioned in the character concept section, Barbara was a talented gymnast that was projected to be an Olympic-level talent before she quit abruptly in the previous summer. She’s highly gifted beyond this and her scholarship to Agatha Wayne’s Finishing School for Young Girls is certainly in danger with her out of the gymnastics program. This has put stress on Barbara, but her mother has pulled what little influence she has a College Professor to keep her in school in spite of her decision to quit gymnastics.

In the recent weeks, Barbara has been moonlighting as a vigilante; inspired by the Justice Society and more specifically, Batman. She has met Batman, but she hasn’t met Batman. There’s also the matter of her older brother, who is a current patient at the Arkham Behavioral Rehabilitation Center. More on that later, but it’s important.

Barbara’s skills beyond being an Olympic-level gymnast also are to facilitate her intelligence. In conventional DC stories Barbara is described as a computer expert, but in 1968 computers are not a thing a middle class girl from south Gotham has access to. So her intelligence is portrayed here in more practical ways; in how she can memorize things quickly and adeptly like foreign languages, in being savvy with the science of chemistry, critical thinking, and mechanical engineering. She is not a trained fighter yet, so all of her fighting skill is currently reactive, though she does pick up things she sees well.

So enough to really be true to the character but without going too hard into “she is good at everything, okay” territory.

With that out of the way I can explain some characters of note, events of importance, and other such things.

Characters of Note

Notable Events and Lore

Ongoing & Upcoming Arcs

References / Sample Post

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Hidden 4 mos ago 2 mos ago Post by Bounce
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Matrix, ~300 years (constructed c. 17th Century CE)
Vigilante based in Smallville, Kansas
Active since 5 minutes ago (debut)

Hot pants edition just for @Retired

Character Concept

What if all that survived Krypton was the technology that they left behind?

Once a great empire of the stars, Krypton's wars nearly destroyed them. They managed to rebuild the society from near collapse, losing contact or even reliable information on the colonies they may have had at one time. History became legend, and legend became folktale. Then, hundreds of years ago, a man named Var-El set out to try and prove that life existed beyond Krypton, to include the lost colonies. After much study, he found several astrological objects with potential to be the fabled Lost Colonies of Daxam or Rokyn. Pioneering a method of fold space, Var-El devised a means of interstellar transportation but the means to transport a ship of living beings was beyond the capabilities of Krypton as it was then. So, instead, he devised a techno-organic probe -- sunstone suspended in a protoplasmic matrix -- which would be capable of enduring the journey, cataloging the planet, and transmitting its findings back to Krypton. Its ability to mask itself from visual light was a safeguard against contaminating a society or culture before it could be understood. However, in case of extraterrestrial contact, the probe was programmed to assume a non-threatening appearance.

This matrix arrived at the astronomical coordinates for object Y-217 sometime in Earth's 17th Century. After completing its survey of the world, to include the indigenous species, the matrix concluded that the planet was not one of the lost colonies. After settling upon an undisturbed area in the middle of the continent that would become known as North America, the matrix transmitted its findings and awaited instructions. It would lose the signal to Krypton a few decades later, after which the probe shut down.

Centuries passed. The British Empire founded the colonies, which fought a War of Independence and, later, claimed the American west. The area where the matrix lay dormant was called Kansas. A veteran of the Second World War, Jonathan Kent moved to Smallville in order to escape the city life for a quiet retirement. While plowing the fields of his new farm, the man unearthed something extraordinary.

Now, unable to contact Krypton, Matrix continues its mission by learning of the culture of humanity through the morals and stories of Jonathan Kent.

Based on the Post Crisis "Last Son of Krypton" storyline, and drawing inspiration from The Big Guy and Rusty the Boy Robot, this is a take on the Superman mythos that borrows from the Post Crisis/Pre-Zero Hour Supergirl (Matrix) to create a different take on the Last Son. The basic premise is that Matrix is a machine, inspired by the media accounts of Red Tornado, and sets out to be a hero like its fellow robot. What follows is a tale of trust and betrayal that asks, what measure is a man?

While relying on Red Tornado (who, coincidentally, debuted in 1968) for the examination of humanity, Nothing in this concept prevents a Kara or Power Girl, or an Earth-2 origin for Clark (or any other Superman family character). My going in notion is that Matrix believes it has merely lost contact with Krypton. As a plot element, Krypton's fate will develop over time to Matrix believing himself to be the last survivor of Kyrpton, which will eventually lead us toward Eradicator as my major capstone event for Matrix's story.

Representing both the principles of Jonathan Kent's "Greatest Generation" and the anti-war morality of the new generation, Matrix as Superboy will clash with General Samuel Lane as his foil for what "Truth, Justice, and the American Way" means or represents, while Lex Luthor manipulates events to his own benefit -- for good and for ill, as it suits him.

Ultimately, the goal is to create a character that I can tell solo stories/vignettes with, while being free to collaborate and jump across narratives as need be.

Key Notes

The reinvention here is that Matrix is cast as a Krptonian machine, as opposed to an artificial clone of Lana Lang. The biology of Matrix as a protoplasmic being is unchanged from the Post-Crisis/Pre-Zero Hour original. Matrix produces telekinetic fields, which allow it to re-structure or compress its mass. Actual physical appearance is a purple mass that is similar in consistency to wet sand. Outward appearance is alterable by means of holograms constructed through the principle of silicon magnetics. Matrix uses its telekinetic abilities to create the illusion of super strength, flight, and invulnerability. It can also refocus energy into the classic heat vision, but lacks any kind of ice breath. Matrix has the unique ability of being able to render itself invisible. While not vulnerable to kryptonite, fatigue is Matrix's weakness. Its telekinetic fields are formidable, but Matrix is not as strong or resilient as a Kryptonian (for example, in "Death of Superman" Doomsday took Matrix out with a single punch). While more versatile, Matrix has more finite limits on its physical abilities.

Supporting Cast
  • Red Tornado
  • John Henry Irons
  • Cat Grant
  • Jimmy Olsen
  • Jonathan Kent
  • Martha Kent

Rogue's Gallery
  • Professor T.O. Morrow
  • Alexander "Lex" Luthor
  • General Samuel Lane
  • Metallo (John Corben)
  • Toyman (Winslow Schott)
  • Atomic Skull (Albert Michaels)
  • Titano
  • Eradicator - reimagined as a later model Matrix

Story Arcs
Superboy Begins
When an earthquake strikes Metropolis, Matrix stuns both the Kents and the world when he lends a hand to Red Tornado.

For the World Is Hollow And I Have Touched The Sky
Cat Grant uncovers rumors that LexCorps may have a new weapons program for the U.S. Government in development.

The Boy of Tomorrow
Metropolis is under siege from... toys?

Ballad of Fallen Angels
Superboy faces his most difficult challenge yet.

Krypton's Last Gleaming
A herald of Krypton arrives on Earth with a message.

References / Sample Post

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Hidden 4 mos ago 4 mos ago Post by Simple Unicycle
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Simple Unicycle Human Enigma

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Victor C. Sage, 26-27 (b. March 15th, 1941)
Vigilante based in Hub City, Illinois
Active since late November 1967

Character Concept

"I wish I could say I haven't seen these things for myself, but I think I speak for all the natives of my hometown when I say this: Hub City isn't a kind place. One night, it's a soft and warm mistress, seducing you with whispers of fortune and glory right in your ear, and the next night it's a rotten bitch, robbing you of all your money and throwing you in the gutter. Life ain't easy in The Hub.

"I walk down the street and see all sorts of depravity. Cops are kicking the shit out of minorities and arresting them for having the gall to look left instead of right. Men manhandling their wives in department stores because the little ladies decided to say that maybe, just maybe, their husband shouldn't buy his sixth case of beer in the last two days and binge drink it all as soon as they get home. Promising young men being arrested for toying around with recreational substances such as pot and LSD or, worse yet, getting drafted into the increasingly meaningless War in Vietnam to fight and die for a country that couldn't give less of a shit about them. All this happening while fat, rich pricks profit off our suffering. One of these rich pricks is Hub City's delightful mayor, Wesley Fermin, who uses his power to have the corrupt cops and his lapdogs in the Gospel of Sinners keep the people down.

"This isn't a problem exclusive to Hub City. This sort of crap happens all over the country: Gotham City, New York, Star City, Los Angeles. I'm just gonna say what I'm sure all my readers are thinking: these cities, many more cities and this entire country are going down the fucking drain. And I've just about had it. I want to see the proud, bright young men and women of this country rising up against our set-in-their-ways oppressors. The police, the government, the slothful rich. Fight the hell back! Make sure they see that we're fed up with their hokey-pokey bullshit and we won't take it anymore.

"How are we gonna do this? I don't got the answer to that. I'm simply asking you a question: how much longer can you sit around and watch your country be torn apart by the corrupt and the damned?"

- Excerpt from "America Is A Depraved Beast And It's Our Job To Tame It" by Victor Charles Sage, the cover story of the November 1967 issue of "Starrstruck Monthly" celebrating the magazine's first anniversary. Sage was arrested the following week for libel with his bail posted by the editor-in-chief of the magazine, Sam Starr.

I'm just gonna be honest: I love this character and it hurts me that I've never done a successful run with him in these Hype style RPs. You know what else I love? The 60s: the culture, the background of the Vietnam War and the civil rights movement, the music. Everything about this RP hits every single nail on the head for me and I would be doing myself a disservice by staying out of this one. But the sheer excitement I have for this RP and what will come out of it is enough that I feel I can keep up with it this go around.

As for where I'll be taking the character, I intend on exploring my own unique take on the Question amidst the 1960s; one embroiled in the counterculture movement and facing down organized crime and political corruption. Serial killers, corrupt politicians, biker gangs, cults, mobsters, petty crooks: you name it, it's on the table. And hey, maybe hunting down a Soviet spy or two.

I'm hoping to start off with some small, self contained stories before opening the door for crossovers with other players and the like. I'm down for anything and everything with anyone and everyone. Punching crooks, fighting Soviets, tackling supernatural horrors. You name it, I'm down to be there.

Key Notes

Backstory And Timeline

Districts of Hub City

Hupert Square
Named for the founder of the town, Hupert Square is the primary business district of Hub City. No one goes there unless it's to go to work. Filled with office buildings, law firms, and clinics. In the center of the district is Gaston Hupert Memorial Park, a small park dedicated to the founder of Hub City, Gaston Hupert, who was killed by Native Americans not long after founding the city. A statue of Hupert laying claim to Hub City is erected in the center of the park.

Jury Street
Once a residential street officially part of Hupert Square, Jury Street has grown enough to become its own district, extending out into the city limits. Primarily composed of high end housing with mansions further out of the city, this is where most of the criminal elite and politicians in Hub City live. The size of some of the houses are only matched by the decadence of the residents.

The Wedge
Officially Meadowview Heights, a residential district of Hub City filled with townhouses, apartment complexes, and locally owned stores. The Wedge is nicknamed as such because its shape on most municipal maps is like a wedge of cheese. The district was primarily a multicultural boiling pot at the turn of the century, where all the blacks, Native Americans, Hispanics and Irish lived. The grandchildren of these many cultures have formed the counterculture movement of Hub City, and now The Wedge is the unofficial home of it.

Hell's Corner
Officially Gordon's Corner, named for Gaston Hupert's right hand man Isaac Gordon, who took over the title of the city's mayor after Hupert's death, the district has garnered the nickname Hell's Corner for its reputation as a hotbed for criminals, be they biker gangs, human traffickers, ruthless murderers, or all three. It is composed of brick tenement buildings and condemned businesses. Most people stay away from Hell's Corner out of fear for their lives. A lot of the low level associates in the Gospel of Sinners live here.

Hupert River
An industrial district stretching out for a few miles beyond the city, Hupert River is named as such because of the river that flows straight through it. Composed of factories, power plants, and rail yards, not far from these factories are houses and trailer parks, home to the workers and their families. At night, it's a popular spot for criminals to conduct business. Dumping bodies into the river, drug deals, weapon trades; you name it, it's happened.

Officially Logan's Port, named for Arthur Logan, the man who pushed the Union Pacific through Hub City, Chinatown is named as such because, well... You get three guesses and the first two don't count. Originally a campsite for the Chinese railroad workers, Chinatown was built up into a series of tenement buildings, apartments, and even some houses over the years. Its population has a 50 to 1 ratio of Asian Americans to any other race. A hotbed for the Triads.

Organizations of Note

Starrstruck Monthly
Est. November 1966
A magazine founded by Sam Starr, meant to counter mostly conservative newspapers by offering a more liberal alternative with no claims of being an unbiased opinion, Starrstruck Monthly is popular around the country among members of the counterculture movement for its no-holds-barred approach to news. Its writing staff consists mostly of freelance journalists and writers with a chip on their shoulder and a lot to say about the state of the country. The magazine's main office is a convenience store turned into a studio located in The Wedge.

Gospel of Sinners
Est. July 1928
Established by Reverend Hatch and Max Bine after splitting off from the Chicago Outfit, the Gospel of Sinners is a criminal syndicate with claws embedded in the throat of Hub City and quickly extending its reach to the rest of the country. While the name implies religious convictions, the only member to share them are Hatch, who believes he is doing God's work by "filling the Earth with sin, so that He may revel in striking us all down come Judgement Day". Wesley Fermin is a member and rose to power thanks to his affiliation with them.

The Depraved MC
Est. May 1946
Founded by a group of World War II veterans that struggled to adjust back into a normal life, The Depraved is officially a motorcycle club for those who live and die on the road. In reality, it's a gang of criminals looking to leave its mark on Hub City and constantly wrestling with the Gospel of Sinners to do so. Several chapters have appeared across the states in various cities and towns.

Characters of Note

Ongoing & Upcoming Arcs

The Hub City Happening
Young women are turning up strangled to death in Hub City. Word on the street is that a spree killer is at large. Vic decides to investigate while butting heads with Detective Izzy O'Toole.

Oh Danny Boy
The Question goes after Mayor Fermin and his corrupt crew of twisted politicians, mobsters, and crooks... Which ends with him taking a bullet to the head and a dip in the icy Hupert River.

Fear And Loathing
Vic takes a trip to Las Vegas to cover the opening of a new hotel and casino, the Siren's Call. The owner: one Maxwell Bine, a mobster known across the Midwest as "The Banshee", whose opening of the Siren's Call hides a more sinister agenda...

Born To Be Wild
When The Depraved MC burn down a building in The Wedge and the police do nothing to stop them due to lack of evidence, Vic takes it upon himself to infiltrate the biker gang. Pretending to be interested in writing a piece about them for Starrstruck Monthly, Vic works subtly to take them down while writing up that piece to meet his deadline for next month's issue of the magazine.


References / Sample Post

For your consideration, here are three posts I consider to be the best pieces I've written for the Question:

I believe my above character concept could also be considered a sample post as article excerpts written by Vic are something I want to incorporate into my posts going forward, so I'd like to posit that as my sample post.
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Hidden 4 mos ago 4 mos ago Post by DocTachyon
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DocTachyon Teenage Neenage Neetle Teetles

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H A L J O R D A N ♦ T E S T P I L O T ♦ C O A S T C I T Y ♦ B. 1944
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

"In brightest day, in blackest night... Uh, line, Kilowog?"

Coast City never treated Hal Jordan well growing up. It had its own wonders, certainly. Beaches up and down the coast as far as the eye could see and rolling tracts of perfect morning dew suburbia in the hills beyond the city proper. But in Coast City, awash with lights and crowded in by the restful giants of the wartime ammunition factories beyond, you could never see the stars.

By Hal's measure, the war was the cause of all of his problems. Not Korea, the really big one where everybody joined in, Hal always had to specifiy, the one dad bought the farm in. That crack always bought him a bop on the head and some grumbling about "respect", so Hal supposed that the admonishment was the war's fault, too. It was the war that pushed the light out of the sky, changed it from the town of his parents' childhood that made Mom's voice perk up when she spoke about it into a thing of iron and concrete. It was the reason Tommy Tanaka from next door had gone, too, and he was the only kid that Hal could get to play pretend Flying Ace and Red Baron with him.

"Ma says its coz' of the war we got ta' move."
"How's that?"
"Ma says the people here used ta' keep us in cages, then. N' that things ain't got any better since."
"No better...? Do you got cages in your house?"
"I thought about that too, but Dad says this city is just a great big one."
Hal and Tommy, 1950

And then there was Dad, who Mom cried about when she thought Hal had finally drifted off to sleep. Hal figured he must've been a real important guy. In the stories Mom told him, he had some kinda magic in his heart that he must've plucked out of the sky that Mom said let him fly faster and higher than anyone else. For Hal that settled it, if Dad could do it maybe he could too, maybe even finally reach up and touch the stars that had gone missing over the city.

But flying wasn't in the cards for Hal. Instead he was saddled with a pair of coke bottle lenses and instructions to make sure to eat his carrots if he wanted any kind of shot at the controls of an airplane. Hal's first kiss ended up telling him he had carrot breath, but he figured it was worth the trade. As long as he could look forward and keep stepping towards the sky, he'd make it through anything, school, college, break ups, even every damn page of his aeronautics textbook.

Still, for every carrot he swallowed and every precaution he took to keep his eyes in mint condition, it was a miracle he got any position at all. A battery of failed FAA eye exams meant he'd never be a combat pilot, he'd be lucky to even get a job flying rubbernecking tourists across the country.

But Ferris Aircraft didn't need a combat pilot, it needed a technician that knew his vehicle inside and out. It helped that Dad did some work for them at the start of the war, that old man Ferris had a long memory, and that his daughter had a knack for finding the best in her flyboys. Hal wasn't combat-ready, sure, but he could piece together more about the quality of a test aircraft just after takeoff than most pilots could after full flights in them.

It was like this for some years, mornings spreading his wings over the Californian desert, and nights writing aching reports about every bump and hassle and errant knob his craft had on offer. That is, until the night he saw his first Coast City shooting star, a twinkling emerald jewel that came down, down, down.

It is he who shall next bear the ring, the star told him as it slotted itself upon his finger, leading him to the corpse of its former wearer. Abin Sur was dead -- and an alien, but Hal ultimately decided that the dead part was the more pressing concern -- murdered in his own spaceship.

Over the next days, the organization Hal found himself conscripted in, The Green Lantern Corps, would place a sector wide blockade on the planet. No entry or exit from Earth's solar system under any circumstances, the powers that be wanted a locked door mystery. Leaving Hal and the remnants of Abin Sur's team to keep the peace among an increasingly restless population of aliens who didn't expect to be staying on Earth for quite so long.

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:

Green Lantern Year One, you've heard the song a hundred times before but never from these instruments. Truth be told this is a boilerplate Green Lantern set up, chock full of power rings, intergalactic law, and more aliens than you can shake a Kilowog at. My main goal here is a pretty steep difference in execution, less a space police procedural with the nigh-omnipotent protectors of the galaxy, and more a journey of willpower and deceit as Hal navigates the increasingly complicated politics of the Green Lantern Corps and the people its meant to protect, couched in the adventure of a Green Lantern that has to figure out far too much of this for himself.

This is a story about cops and power, about lurking murderers, long shadows, and the infinite reaches of space. Most of all, this is a story of the power of human resolve.

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

I'm changing some things about the Green Lanterns, eat my shorts. The things of import are as follows.

S A M P L E P O S T:

P O S T C A T A L O G:

00 - Little Wing - See above!
01 - Eight Miles High
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Hidden 4 mos ago 4 mos ago Post by Cybermaxx
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Cybermaxx Born of God and Void

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Charles Xavier, 40 (b. 1928); Scott Summers, 26 (b. 1942); Logan, Unknown (b. approx. 19th century); Ororo Munroe, 32 (b 1936); Piotr "Peter" Rasputin , 22 (b. 1946); Kitty Pryde 20 (b. 1948); Kurt Wagner 18 (b. 1950)
A vigilante team based out of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters in Salem Center, New York
The team and school were both founded officially '63, though there was a roster active less than a decade before that

Character Concept

It was February 3rd, 1953 when a nihilistic death cult attempted to end all life on earth. The Acolytes, as they called themselves, seized the U.S military base Cape Citadel, pointing its nuclear arsenal at Moscow, London and Washington, D.C. They broadcasted their manifesto to the world over hijacked radio waves.

They broadcasted their manifesto to the world over the radio, declaring the ‘human project’ a failure and calling for the next stage in evolution to rise up out of the ashes of nuclear hellfire. All attempts to stop them were met with violent reprisal.

Until the X-Men arrived.

A group of teenage heroes in black and yellow beat the extremists black and blue, halting the launch of their missiles and vanishing just as quickly as they had arrived. Though the Acolytes had failed at their ultimate goal, the damage had been done- the fear of Metahumans had been seeded in the populace before they even knew the meaning of that word.

These ‘X-Men’ were the protege of one Dr. Charles Xavier, the brilliant Oxford professor and geneticist that discovered the ‘Metagene’ and led much of the academic discussion involving the so-called mutants. He’d be outed as a mutant himself in ‘58 and subsequently lost his professorship at the university. He’d disappear from the public eye alongside his five ‘adoptive children’; but the work had to continue. Anonymous, thankless and distrusted by the people they protected, the X-Men would operate from the shadows for several more years, battling villainous mutants, bigoted radicals and more mundane threats all the while.

It was December 24th, 1962 when all that changed. Jean Grey, the team's telepathic wonder known as Marvel Girl, responded to a 9-1-1 call alone. She was met by Mastermind, the twisted serial murderer that had been rampaging across the Midwestern United States, tormenting his victims with horrific psychic illusions. Jean endured for as long as she could, but it wasn't enough. The man left her to die on the pavement and escaped into the night before the rest of the team could get there in time.

The team buried her at the mansion on Christmas day.

They didn't last much longer after that. Bobby Drake, the Iceman, was the first to part ways with the X-Men, heading to Detroit where his uncle ran an auto shop. Hank "The Beast" McCoy stuck around long enough to help Charles set up the chemistry lab at what would become the School for Gifted Youngsters before leaving for college, hoping to finish his doctorate in biophysics. The Avenging Angel, Warren Worthington, was the last to leave. He was broken up about it until the day Scott Summers started talking about putting together another team...then he punched Scott in the nose and took off to continue his career as a vigilante solo.

It was May 8th, 1965 when Charles founded Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. On the same day, he christened the X-Men, declaring them to be a public-facing force for good. They would protect the next generation of mutants, snuff out evil wherever they found it and fight for their shared dream of a better, more equal world.

Its been a long time since my last run at the X-Men and honestly I couldn't pick a better game for it. The '68 setting gives me a ton of material to work with that doesn't exist in most modern games- the Cold War and the civil rights movement in particular offer up a lotta great themes I can build off of. The X-Men came out of this era for a reason, after all.

My goal for the team this time 'round is to learn hard into the characters, the school and collaborating with other players. I'll be putting much less of a focus on complex plotting and arcs, which tends to drag down my posting frequency as I struggle to juggle a bunch of story threads behind the scenes. I want to make something I can work without stressing too much, in all honesty.

Key Notes

Just a place to put ideas and shit.

Characters of Note

Notable Events and Lore
To Be Revealed

Ongoing & Upcoming Arcs
The Demon of Japan

An enigmatic enemy from Logan's past attacks!


"The Demon of Japan" Arc
Issue #1
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Hidden 4 mos ago Post by NeverEnding
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NeverEnding Շђє Ŧเภคɭ Ŧг๏ภՇเєг

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James Buchanan Barnes, Age 47 (b. 1921)
Based in Moscow, Russia
Active since approximately 1946

Character Concept

James "Bucky" Barnes was born to George and Winnifred Barnes in the early 1920s, into the roaring twenties. However, the earliest memories the boy would have would be of the newly minted Great Depression. Bucky and his family lived in Brooklyn. When the Stock Market crashed his mother lost her job. It placed undue stress on the family, leaving George as the only breadwinner. Adding to the stress was Rebecca Barnes, born just one year after 1929. However due to his position as a Captain in the Army, George was rarely at home. Bucky's first memory was standing in a bread-line for food with his mother and infant sister.

When Bucky was ten his mother passed away. At first it appeared there would be no hope for the young Barnes children. George could not bring them to an Army base, no money for a care taker and without any family nearby to take care of them, the situation was looking grim. However, Bucky's best friend's mother was a kind woman. When Sarah Rogers heard of their plight, despite having no money either, she agreed to take in the children when George was stationed at Camp Leigh.

Food was scarce, money was non-existent and Bucky did all he could to earn anything he could. He sold newspapers, shined shoes, and occasionally ran with the wrong sorts on the wrong side of town. Any extra scratch Bucky came up with he passed on to Ms. Rogers. By the time Bucky was fourteen, his father had been promoted to Major. Bucky himself was now employed full time and contributing directly to Rebecca's and Steve's welfare. He was also getting into the dangerous sort of trouble.

One night in 1935 George witnessed Bucky coming home late and bruised. It was obvious to the military man Bucky had been in a fight. He knew the rumors were true of Bucky falling in with unsavory types. After he confronted Bucky, who was unrepentant, he contacted one of his friends at the Army base. Major Joseph Samon agreed to let the boy into Camp Leigh, under the table, on a semi-permanent basis in order to "straighten" the boy out. However when the teen showed great promise in both physical and mental aspects of soldiering, the Major decided to make it official. He added Bucky to a newer program designed to train the new generation into better soldiers.

In 1937, Japan attacked China. Tensions growing in the Global Arena prompted the military to send Bucky and the other teens he was training with to work with the British SAS. Leaving behind his family and Steve was hard. But Bucky was nothing but adaptable. In England he honed the skills the Army gave him. He also excelled in sniping and infiltration. The work was hard but rewarding and was well on it's way to turning Bucky into a fine soldier. When Germany attacked Poland Bucky was sent back to the US.

Tragedy struck the Barnes family once more in 1939. Major George Barnes was killed in a training exercise at Camp Leigh. Operations in the US had been ramped up with the start of what was beginning to look like another great conflict. Bucky and Major Samon agreed to send Rebecca to boarding school in Illinois, nearby Samon's family. Bucky couldn't in good conscious leave Rebecca to Sarah to take of any longer. However he still made sure to send the Rogers money, despite receiving marching orders.

Bucky would not see Steve, nor Rebecca much in the long months of 1940. He would write to them every chance he could. He worried a lot about Steve who very seldom wrote him back. He wouldn't hear from Steve for another three months after his last missive and feared his friend had died. He briefly entertained the idea that he would see Steve again as he was pinned down with his unit in a trench somewhere in Europe. That was, until they were saved by CAPTAIN AMERICA.

By 1941 Bucky had earned his place by Captain America's side. Steve had requested Bucky personally and the brass had allowed it to keep their sole super soldier happy. The main focus of Captain America's unit was to hunt down and stop Hydra. In 1944 Bucky was captured by Hydra and was experimented upon until his rescue. The now twenty-three year old noticed odd things about himself. He healed faster, tired less quickly, ate more but gained weight slower- if at all. Bucky, still traumatized by his captivity kept mum about the changes.

Things were coming to a head. It was 1945 and Captain America and his team had nearly finished off Hydra. Red Skull had one more ace up his sleeve. Bombs were placed in a plane which was set to crash into a major US target. Code breakers had been unable to discover where. Which meant if the drone plane took off it would be nearly impossible to stop it. Bucky and Captain America managed to take down the plane, but not before Bucky was ejected from the plane into the English Channel. Later Captain America would be lost somewhere over the North Atlantic Ocean.

There were searches over the years to find and recover their bodies. No one was aware that Bucky had fallen out of the plane earlier, they never looked for his body in the right spot. He would have been lost for his water grave if not for circumstance. A German U-boat in the channel picked up his body. They nearly left him but Colonel Vasily Karpov recognized the young man. The Colonel knew of the experiments that had been preformed. After having retrieved Barnes from the frozen depths, he realized the man was of no use. Unaware Barnes was still alive he sold Bucky to the Russians, a deal to help him escape War Crime charges.

The Russians however knew what they had gotten. They revived the man and replaced his mangled arm. Then they worked on twisting him into their perfect super soldier. You take a man and torture him long enough, he'll break. When the victim has a version of the super soldier serum running through their veins? There was so much more a man could take and survive. With the aid of cutting edge neural sciences they twisted Bucky enough to mold him into something new. Thus the Winter Soldier was born. A perfect living weapon.

The fifties was a time of growth and lingering strife. Cold was the war between Russia and the Western countries. Russia and the US were locked in a tight war of spies. The Winter Soldier quickly became a ghost story spies told themselves as enemy lines blurred and vanished. Ledgers in hidden rooms listed supposed kills though most of it was speculation.

Just as it does for all men, time passes. The Winter Soldier was allowed more autonomy within Hydra's organization. He taught occasionally at the Red Room, training Black Widows. He was never put on ice like in the movies. Instead he lived in Moscow and held as normal of a life as he could. The conditioning kept him from questioning his orders and from thinking about his past. But nothing holds forever. Cracks were beginning to form in the Winter Soldier. Undetected by those sent to watch and spy. For no one was better than the perfect weapon.

The general outline is redemption. A quest to undo some of the ill that he has caused others and to find some measure of peace within himself. I see the first arc of the story being James finding himself after so long. Of course healing isn't going to be a straight and narrow path. He will have to fight for it even as he's being hunted. I want to see him put others before himself in his quest for redemption.

Arc 1:
James finally decides to break free of Hydra.

Arc 2:
On the run from Hydra, trying to regain memories and find out what was done to him. The possible debut of Bohusk.

Arc 3:
Hopefully shenanigans with others. If not I'll delve into James trying to right some of the wrongs he committed as the Winter Soldier.

Key Notes

References / Sample Post

Inhale. Exhale.

Cold, crisp air bit the Winter Soldier's nose as he breathed. The rifle in his hand was perfectly placed. The scope slowly tracked the target as they talked to a group of men in US Army uniforms. He didn't have audio so he could only guess as to what was being said. The context he had was limited. The United States was scared. Russia had successfully detonated an atomic bomb. Intel gathered said the US was again moving forward with creation of 'Super'. Something to counter the growing might of Russia.

It was a long process, discovering where the scientists working on 'Super' were located. The President of the United States was rarely predictable in his movements. And the Soviets had no other leads as to who was heading the project.

As if to mock, the military men and the president vanished out of sight. Possibly to a more secure location. The Winter Soldier remained immobile for another two hours before finally moving. He swiftly dissembled the rifle and stored it back in it's nondescript case. He rolled his left shoulder, feeling the heavy metal arm shift and relieve sore muscles. He picked up his jacket and slipped into it.

The rendezvous for the Winter Soldier wasn't close. The intel he had gathered would be passed along to the proper spies. A brief image of girls, no- women, training popped into his mind. Seductresses, spies, sleeper agents. They all were in place to begin infiltrating whatever secrets these "Super" scientists were hiding.

The Winter Soldier turned off the TV set, picked up his hardbacked case, and put a hut upon his head. He shut and locked the door behind himself. His gloved hands leaving no trace at all that he had ever been there. Perhaps he really was a ghost.

An eerie smile graced the man's lips as he exited the building and got into a parked car. The radio burst into life.

Don't let the stars get in your eyes,
Don't let the moon break your heart.

Idly his fingers tapped at the steering wheel. Letting the voice of Perry Como drift over him. American country music was very different than Russian. Not something he was used to hearing. Music was not actively encouraged. Though he was allowed far more freedom than most Russian operatives who worked on foreign soil.

The Winter Soldier flicked off the radio with a grimace. The errant thought of freedom sat poorly. He neither wanted, not desired music. Only to be of service to his country.

The car rolled up to an unassuming brownstone. A smiling woman was out in the lawn playing with a small boy. Ascetically she was very attractive. Upon hearing the car she scooped the boy into her arms. Faintly the man could hear her chide the child for trying to run off towards the vehicle.

The Winter Soldier exited the car and smiled at the woman. She released the boy.

"Oh Mike. So good for you to drop by." The woman didn't talk any louder than normal. A perfect image of a woman seeing an anticipated fiend. "I'm so sorry Carl forgot it at home and made you drive all the way from the city."

"Not a problem ma'am." The Winter Soldier tipped his hat. His accent perfectly American North East.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" The woman smoothed her skirts. "You must be tried after the long drive."

"It would be my pleasure." He shut the car door and ruffled the boy's head before following the mother inside.

The house was cozy, in the way well maintained small houses were oft described. The young boy took off with vigor for the living room, babbling something about cowboys. His mother had vanished into the kitchen. The Winter Soldier doffed his hat on the hat tree and slipped a paper out of his pocket. He casually placed it on the hall table before moving to the living room.

After the coffee was finished the woman found him on the floor, toys strewn about, playing with her son. The small boy was bouncing up and down as he sat on the floor, happily describing why the man had lost to the Cowboys.

"Coffee." The woman passed the Soldier a cup.

"Thank you. I've heard you make a super cup of coffee." He replied before he took a small sip. It was bitter without any milk, cream or sugar. "Carl always brags. He also mentioned the two of you were thinking about taking a vacation to see the Capital."

The woman had taken a seat on the sofa, smiling at her son as he passed her a small toy pistol. "It's almost time for your show. Why don't you go make sure your room is clean." She then turned her attention back to her guest. "Oh, we haven't decided yet. Do you know of any good locations?"

"One or two. Maybe give New Mexico a try. Get out of the hustle and bustle for a bit."

The woman laughed. "Oh my. I don't know what I'd do outside of the big city. But I'll let Carl know your recommendation. Do you have family there?"

"When I was young we used to live in Los Alamos. But we moved a long time ago. You never know though, while the Metropolis is great, the desert has it's perks too."

She made appreciative sounds into her coffee. The Winter Soldier put down his now empty cup on the coffee table. "But I should really get back."

"Oh yes." The woman exclaimed as if she had forgotten. "Let me go get it and you can be on your way." She bustled off to grab a small package.

"Do tell Carl not to be so forgetful." The smiled at the man.

"Of course. Take care." The Soldier put his hat back on, tucked the package under his arm and disappeared off into the day. Indeed, just another ghost story to tell.
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Hidden 4 mos ago Post by Retired
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Retired "Hayao Miyazaki"

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Bartholomew "Bart" Henry Allen II, Age 17 (b. 2012)
Based in The United States; mobile
Active since approximately 2026 / 1968

Character Concept

The 21st century that Bart Allen comes from is one of despair, near-perpetual war, and inevitable destruction. A series of unrelated yet unrelenting planet-wide crises that spanned the last three decades had left the world without most of its mightiest heroes. From the moment he was born, just a year after one terrible crisis had ended, his life was filled with constant struggle and tragedy.

The grandson of the mid-late 20th century Flash, Bart had inherited the former's incredible gifts from birth - a fact that quickly put the boy's life at risk as his heightened metabolism nearly consumed his own body. If not for the intervention of S.T.A.R. Labs and friend of his father's, Max Mercury, he would have died before his first birthday.

In 2018, yet another crisis struck Earth as a new invading force swept across the planet. With the governments of various nations still rebuilding from the events half a decade ago and many of the world's costumed defenders lost in years past, the planet's population was soon decimated before any resistance could be mounted. Bart's parents were killed in the initial wave of attacks while protecting him, and he was soon after taken in by Max Mercury. Following the aftermath of this destruction, which the Earth only barely survived due to outside intervention, Max began training the young Bart in the use of his abilities, teaching him the history of his heritage, and preparing for the next calamity that was sure to come.

In 2024, while the world had largely turned into a series of wartorn remnant nations battling for resources, Bart decided to live up to his storied ancestry and adopt a costumed identity in order to restore some semblance of order to the chaos that had gripped his world. As Impulse, and together with other like-minded youths boasting incredible gifts, skills, and identities that harkened back to the past age of heroes, he genuinely made a difference across the Eastern United States for the next several years. For the first time in decades, it seemed as if the world might be heading back on track.

Then, in 2030, Max's prediction proved true as what would become the Earth's final crisis came to bear.

There was no defense against this new threat. No resistance to be mounted. No invasion to fight off. There was only inevitable destruction. The planet Earth, like so many before it across the cosmos, now faced an inconceivable foe that cared for nothing but its singular goal: consumption.

But Max Mercury had been planning for this inevitability for nearly two decades. He hadn't known in what form absolute destruction would come in, but the man had recognized the patterns long ago and come to the realization that one day the Earth would face a crisis it would not be able to stave off. So he had prepared in secret, stealing parts from various decommissioned and abandoned S.T.A.R. Labs facilities, and toiling away on his project until the day would come where its use was unavoidable.

A time machine. A device of purely theoretical science, constructed from mostly second-hand parts, and that had never once been tested.

Max had hoped to devise a machine one day capable of shepherding as much of Earth's population as possible, but even after eighteen years of hard work and dedication, his efforts had only resulted in a small craft capable of housing a single passenger.

Bart, despite numerous and lengthy pleas to stay with Max, was selected to use the time machine. He was informed it would be a one-way trip with no way to return 'home' to the present, and was given a crash course on the history of the era Max had selected for him to travel to.

Still, although Max told Bart he couldn't bring everyone with him to the past, there was still some hope. A chance, no matter how slim, that the world could still be saved - just not in the present. Max drilled into Bart's head a list of events, both minor and major, that took place in the mid to late 1900's that if prevented or even just slightly adjusted could potentially alter the course of history in such a way as to avoid the crises that had brought about the end of the world. Stop just a few critical moments in history and the timeline could be saved.

So, in 2030, with his goal firmly set in mind, and just hours before the Earth and its inhabits were torn asunder and devoured, Bart said goodbye to his mentor, friend, and father.

And in 1968, Bart said hello to his new beginning.

Really, my goal is just to write some fun stories with people. I haven't done any genuine collaborative roleplaying on the Guild in literally a decade. So I chose a character and designed a narrative that allows me to interact with anyone and everyone. The nature of Bart intending to intervene in various events, whether small or large, means that I have a justified reason to be anywhere and do anything. I can rationalize crossing over with characters of all kinds, be it throwback fanfares to kung-fu stories, or pulp mystery tales, space cop shenanigans, or mystical adventures, and everything in between.

I can and will write solo content when required. I'm not by any means going to be dependent on others for me to tell a story. However, the ultimate goal is to make this RP world feel truly lived in by touching bases with just about everyone at one point or another.

Key Notes

References / Sample Post

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Hidden 4 mos ago Post by Hexaflexagon
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Nadia Pym, Age 16 (b. 1952)
Based in The Red Room, Undisclosed Location, USSR
Active since approximately 24 Hours Ago

Character Concept

In the immediate aftermath of the Second World War, Dr. Henry "Hank" Pym became a spy for the USA, using his recently developed Pym particles to sneak beyond the Iron Curtain. One such mission saw Dr. Pym trying to flip a known KGB agent known as Maria Trovaya, a known member of the Soviet's secretive Black Widow Program. The two quickly fell for each other and it was perhaps those feelings that made them sloppy. On the night that the pair was bound for Constantinople via a cargo ship in Odessa, they were caught by Red Room agents. Pym was able to make it out alive using his Ant-Man technology, but Trovaya was captured. What neither of them knew at the time was that Trovaya was pregnant.

Head researcher at the Red Room Doctor Lyudmila Antonovna Kudrin was curious to see the effects of in utero exposure to her super serum as up to this point it was believed that the serum caused complete infertility and requested that the embryo inside Trovaya be extracted before her execution for treason. In time that Embryo would grow into Nadia.

Thus, from her "birth" onward, Nadia's home was the secretive compound that the Red Room ran its operations from. From a young age two things became apparent, Nadia was gifted with both her Father's superior intellect and had trace remnants of her mother's super serum in her blood. And so, like her mother before her Nadia was to be trained in the Black Widow program.

Nadia along with twenty other orphans including one Ava Orlova - who she quickly became friends with - were posed to be the next generation of Widow agents. The thinking under Khrushchev and later Brezhnev being that a modern cohort was needed to represent a Post-Stalin USSR that could truly position itself as a global superpower against the Capitalist West. Alongside her regular combat and espionage training, Nadia's handlers sought to fine-tune her intellect with Doctor Kudrin personally taking Nadia under her wing seeing Nadia as the only one worthy to inherit her position as head of the program.

A week ago, Nadia passed her last examinations and was declared fit for active duty having been given the codename: WASP. However, when her first mission leads her on the trail of Professor Grigor Ivanovich Pchelintsov, a former Red Room scientist and an associate of her Father. The past that the Red Room desperately tried to keep from her will finally catch up. And Nadia must then face the question of where do her loyalties lay?

Generally, my plan is to mix a Cold War spy drama mixed with some more classical super-heroics. I've always liked Ant-Man as a character and he and his supporting cast tend to get underutilized at times. Our Cold War setting though allows me to hopefully fix that problem by working from the perspective of Nadia. Her whole abducted by the Red Room and raised by the Russians fitting perfectly with the setting. Allowing for the moral quandaries of such classics as The Spy Who Came in from the Cold to hopefully shine through, though admittedly tonally I'm going much more for Snake Eater or an Atomic Blonde than I am le Carré.

After Nadia defects to America in search of answers at the end of her first arc. I hope to be able to get involved with other players especially the other young superheroes out there. As I feel that Nadia's position will make an interesting fish out of water dynamic compared to the Americans she will be running into.

Key Notes

Central Cast

Current Plot Threads

From Russia With Love
Nadia is sent to track down Professor Grigor Ivanovich Pchelintsov, a Professor with connections to her past.

References / Sample Post

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Hidden 4 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by WXer
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WXer オラ・オラ・オラ!

Member Seen 13 hrs ago

Richard Dragon
45 Years Old, Born on October 1923
World-renowned Martial Arts Master and International Man of Mystery
Surviving since 1941

Character Concept

The man that would be Dragon was born a boy in the British colony of Hong Kong to a family of trade moguls and diplomats. The rough streets of the Fragrant Harbour treated the young Briton worse than your average Johnny Chinaman due to his limited ability to interact with the locals, having been tutored by a private instructor in the British curriculum which purposely excluded Cantonese and Mandarin. After an alarming rise of muggings by street gangs due to strained government resources, Richard's parents had reluctantly agreed to include a self-defence instructor for their son's studies though they couldn't even find a boxer fit to tie the shoes of an upstart Blackpool pugilist.

They had to settle for an Oriental practitioner but God help them if they used the same fighting style of the ill-repute Kowloon gangsters. Searching high and low, the family had found an Okinawan karate sensei that had just arrived in the city that needed work and housing, which they could easily provide. The Japanese were generally reputed to be the most superior in matters of war among the Asian races his parents reasoned and though they could hardly communicate, the teacher-student pair clicked instantly through a mutual admiration of kicks and grapples. He started slow as a tortoise but was just as determined as the one in Aesop's fables. The next few years showed how much of a prodigy Richard truly was, exceeding in most of the metrics expected of him. He wasn't limited to drills and dummies either as he would sneak out during certain nights to get in street brawls that saw his diplomatic immunity put in to good use. While his parents disapproved, this was clearly all the fault of that damned Easterner!

For Richard though, it was basically a boyhood fantasy come true - fighting bad guys at night and being a bourgeoisie dandy by day. This idyllic dream, however, would be abruptly interrupted by the horrors of war as the Marco Polo bridge incident in the north east of China saw the Middle Kingdom be attacked by the belligerent Empire of the Rising Sun. Days after his 15th birthday, the Canton Operation had successfully given the invading Imperial soldiers a base in Guangzhou, which caused a major wave of refugees to flee to Hong Kong. Though the war was limited to China and Japan at this time, everyone could see the writing on the wall and braced themselves for the worst. Stubbornly, Richard's family had decided to stay in the city to protect their assets but they could no longer harbor the sensei that Richard had come to consider family. Hastily expelled, the Okinawan karate sensei had vanished into the night without a trace. Bitterness and anger had gripped the young Dragon's heart though he could not explain exactly why - was it because he could not save his sensei from expulsion or because he could but did nothing?

Three years later on Christmas day, Hong Kong had fallen to the Japanese Imperial Army. However, the occupying garrison soon found that the city would not be easily subjugated.

Richard had become part of an underground resistance cell that slipped into the sullied streets' shadows, hid in hollow house walls, and concealed their crews in the crevices of Canton's coves. His own reputation grew as the resistance grew bolder. Richard had dug deep into the psyche of the invaders with his brutal ambush methods which left his targets hacked to bloody bits and viscera. They began to call him a monster, a demon but his favourite was byakko - the White Tiger.

Yet, instead of giving in to fear, the Japanese occupiers simply got angrier as the attacks continued. Civilians would be publicly executed and displayed in market squares every time after the resistance struck, usually fifty for every one soldier killed. This arms race of bloodshed was horrifying but both sides stuck to their ideals - with the average citizen not being able to do anything but suffer. With no end to the brutality in sight, Richard grew weary of the extreme approaches he had initially taken and resolved to lead his small faction of fighters among the cell to more subtle subterfuge such as stealing supplies and damaging infrastructure so that retaliatory killings would be less common. Though he could not do much, what he did was done with careful precision.

Four years of senseless death would pass before peace would grace the land. Yet, it is always darkest before the dawn. Frustrated by the perceived betrayal by their civil government's surrender, the vengeful garrison soldiers took it upon themselves to do one last massacre before their surrender treaty would take effect. Three hundred villagers had been captured and taken to the Silver Mine district of Lantau island in order to be tortured and executed. Word quickly reached the resistance's ears; it was a race to rescue the soul of Hong Kong. While he himself was still adverse to direct conflict, all of Richard's comrades had thrown caution to the wind and supported a direct attack.

On a gamble, Richard had devised a plan to kidnap the commander of the garrison from his headquarters in order to force the soldiers to stand down. Well, it wasn't a plan per se as it was an impulse that he followed on a whim. To his surprise security at the headquarters was quite light due to their imminent defeat or, worse, because those soldiers were already at Lantau. Met with little resistance, Richard was quick to knockout the guards who had remained behind and hogtie the commander with the same ease as one would have when wrapping a bow around a present. As he carried him to a fishing boat in the nearby Victoria Harbor, the commander simply told him it was too late. Richard refuted, telling him that there was no way they could kill hundreds of villagers in a few hours.

"Not too late for death. Too late to reason."

Those words stay with Richard even to this day. The cold splashes of water on his hands every time he rowed the oars, the scent of fish guts tucked away in the corners of the dingy dinghy, and the racing beat of his heart. All of these he can never forget.

As he landed in Lantau's shores, a wildfire illuminated the nearby underbrush. What little light was on the island was enough to show that it truly was a massacre. Men, women, children... And his comrades and the enemy soldiers. Much to his surprise a shadowy figure with long hair had emerged from the direction of the flames, followed by a few men that he recognized as part of the resistance cell and finally around twenty civilians. That figure was undoubtedly that of their leader - the greatest fighter among their ranks - and that figure now beckoned Richard to hand over the garrison commander.

He recalls objecting to do so on that night many moons ago. He doubts his words were understood but what followed was clear to anyone as their leader got into a fighting stance. Initially reluctant to defend the man that was his enemy, Dragon was caught offguard as his opponent rushed him and knocked him down with a single open palm strike to his chest. Before he knew it, Richard would be knocked out cold as a follow-up foot stomp landed on his face.

The next time he woke up, Richard had found himself in a makeshift hospital staffed by Commonwealth soldiers. He was informed that the locals had brought his unconscious body from a drifting fishing boat out on the harbour. A broken nose, bruised ribs, malnutrition, and a whole slew of minor lacerations had plagued his body. He would spend the next two weeks in the company of the British Navy's nurse corp before reuniting with his family. Though thinner and more wrinkled, his parents were indeed as spirited as they were before the war. Their home was bombed out by air raids along with some parts of the city but they were determined to rebuild.

US president Truman's announcement of the nuclear bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki came as a surprise to Richard. The Japanese surely must have known that such a weapon was in development yet even in the face of total annihilation, his enemies still chose to fight to the death. Such fanaticism was the true revolutionary weapon developed in this war and there was no sealing it away.

It was now late 1945. While peace had come to Hong Kong, the Chinese civil war raged on across the border as the remnants of the Communist PLA and the Nationalist KMT battle for the future of the Middle Kingdom. A letter arrives at the Dragon estate addressed to Richard. It simply reads "Nanda Parbat" along with a set of coordinates. The letter is signed by one O-Sensei. Like his master before him, Richard Dragon disappears into the night without a trace.

It was now late 1952. The Land of the Azure Hills is bathed crimson as United Nations and Comintern forces clash in the 38th parallel for the future of the Hermit Kingdom. A Douglas C47 has landed with a batch of Commonwealth special forces on the tarmac of Daegu Gukje Gonghang military airport. Among them is a man with a fiery mane as majestic as that of the mythical phoenix's feathers. No visible rank could be seen on his person though a piece of vibrant jade could be seen hanging next to his dog tag. Immediately, he would be shipped to the front and placed under the command of Lieutenant Edmund Dorrance and his artillery corp. While his marital prowess was on limited display due to peace talks already underway, the man known as Dragon had impressed many soldiers from his first to last day. Just like the amazing Captain America before him, Dragon was quick to jump into danger and subdue his enemies with near superhuman reflexes. While he was merely one of many heroes in the front, wartime journalists attended many of his fighting exhibitions and his peers expressed to the press how amazed they were by his swiftness and skill.

A ready made celebrity by the time the war had ended, Richard Dragon entered the public consciousness as an inspiring master of the martial arts and struck big as he entered into the British and American film industries as the go to actor for the wise eastern teacher trope. With his new found fame Richard Dragon had become not only a war hero but also a sought after trainer to all those interested in - and could afford - his skills. Oddly enough, wherever the Dragon goes gangsters always seem to turn themselves in to the local police. Often with blackeyes and bruises, sometimes handcuffed to a street lamp outside the station.

As the 50s ended, he would steadily lose relevance in the public consciousness but this did not stop his true purpose. Richard Dragon's public persona was merely a cover for his activities as a largely autonomous intelligence agent under an MI6 and Republic of China joint-sponsored organization based out of Hong Kong - The Guomindang Organization for Order and Defense. Now, just as before, he travels the globe as an agent of Scotland Yard in their struggle against the changing tide of the times.

A new take on Richard Dragon that hopefully does him more justice than the New 52, this version of the character sees a young Hong Kong Briton who grew up in the tough streets of Kowloon bring his mastery of martial arts to the global stage. Richard Dragon stories are few and far between but with a late 60s setting, I intend to create new ones that are themed around the issues of decolonization and proxy wars but flaired with elements of martial arts and spy thrillers.

Key Notes

References / Sample Post

For your consideration, DCU:Genesis - Justice For All's Animal Man

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Hidden 4 mos ago Post by HenryJonesJr
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S P I D E R - M A N
Miles Morales, 15 (b. 1952)
Based in Harlem, New York City
Active since approximately...a few hours from now

Character Concept

Miles Morales is a child who is the face of the changing America in the 1960s. Born to a Puerto Rican immigrant mother and an African American father, his existence is a sign to the ruling class that slowly but surely, America is becoming a new country. Growing up in such turbulent times, Miles still retains the optimism of his teenage years, and believes all the strife he sees will lead to a better country in the end. Still, he sees the strains that such times have on his family, with his mother, Rio Morales, seen as little more than hired help at her job and his father, Lincoln Davis, seen with suspicion in his own community for becoming a police officer. Nowhere is the tension more obvious than between Lincoln and his brother Aaron, who sees his brother's profession as the ultimate betrayal to their people.

His great intellect and aptitude for chemistry has landed him a spot at Manhattan Visions Academy, a new school created by philanthropist and Industrialist Harold Osborn, CEO of Oscorp Industries and son of the former mob boss known only as "the Goblin". Osborn's goal is to show there is a future in integrating schools, and as a private academy, Visions can do just that. There has been a backlash to the school, and white enrollment is much lower than expected. Still, Osborn presses on, hoping to rehabilitate his family name and using his father's ill gotten gains for good. Though his intentions are good, his naivety on goings on at his own company may prove to be his downfall.

At Visions, Miles has met his friends Ganke, the son of Korean immigrants, and Phineas, a Jewish boy born to parents who escaped Nazi Germany. Together, they believe they're unstoppable. The trio love science fiction, fantasy, and tinkering in Phineas' dad's workshop. Also at Visions is Gwen Stacy, the daughter of Captain George Stacy, Lincoln's boss.

The stage is set. With America as a powder keg ready to blow, Miles will learn what it takes to be a hero, and will do his best to protect the city of New York from tearing itself apart.

Miles is not a character I initially found very compelling. The initial Bendis run was just too similar to Peter, in my opinion, and did little to differentiate itself outside of some interesting new abilities for Spider-Man. But since the Spider-verse movie and the PlayStation Video Games, I think Miles has really come into his own as a character. He's the perfect Spider-Man for the setting, being a multiracial character at a time when life was full of strife and upheaval. The rich story telling of a kid struggling to be a hero for a city, even for those that would hate him if they saw his face, is interesting and could lead a lot of places. I'd also love to explore a similar mentor situation like we saw in Spider-verse, but with a Peter Parker that is more legend than anything.

Through his group of friends and family, integral parts of all SPider-Man stories, I'd like to explore how the turbulent times affect different races, genders, and age groups differently.

Key Notes

References / Sample Post

Monday. January 1, 1968
The cold winter air whips around me as I stand in the alley behind my apartment building, my breath emanating like a puff of smoke with each exhale. What brought me out here after three days of fever and night sweats I'm still not sure. But after I had a book stick to my hands at school for a good hour and a half this morning it has me thinking that the spider that bit me wasn't just any spider, and the "flu" I had wasn't a flu at all.

Approaching the wall in front of me, I look around to make sure no one is watching. If what I think is about to happen actually happens, the last thing I need is someone yelling about a black boy who's a mutant up and down the street. I've got enough problems as is. Don't need the Purifiers showing up in Harlem looking for me.

Tentatively, I place my right hand on the wall, before the left, then my left foot. Closing my eyes and hoping for the best, I take my right foot off the ground. Cracking my eyes open, I see the foot sitting a few inches off the ground, and my other limbs sticking to the wall without a problem.

"Holy shit," the amazed chuckle escapes my lips.

I take a few more tentative...steps, I guess, up the wall, and before long I'm slinking past the second floor windows of the building. I can smell Mrs. Collier's oxtail simmering from here, and my stomach rumbles. But I'm too engrossed in what's happening to worry about dinner right now. I'm climbing up a wall. I'm climbing up a wall with no help, just bare hands and sneakers. It's the most incredible feeling I've ever had.

Before long I'm on the roof of my building, overlooking Harlem. The sea of lights spreads out around me, and I realize that nothing is ever going to be the same again. Whether I like it or not, I've stepped into something heavy, and I'm going to have a bigger target on my back than I already do if I use these gifts the way others do.

But as fireworks start to go off in the neighborhood, leftovers from the night before, I have to wonder if I can afford not to go through with the far out plan rattling around in my brain.

Thursday. December 28, 1967
The gleaming white interior of the Oscorp Research labs causes my jaw to drop. I've been to the Plaza, where Mom works, but not even that place is as sparkling clean as the lab. Plus the Plaza might have the best bars and restaurants in town, but it doesn't have a new prototype nuclear reactor that could help usher in a new age of American energy independence. That's way more boss than
Trader Vic's.

"Man, are you seeing this?" Ganke Lee, my best friend, bounds up and slaps me on the shoulder. He may be more excited than I even am. "This is some Manhattan Project stuff! NASA level!"

"Bro, quit geeking out," I laugh as I notice Gwen Stacy roll her eyes at Ganke. "You're gonna get us in trouble."

"This is even cooler than NASA," Phineas Einstein, no relation, adds. "This is Starship Enterprise level."

I can't stifle a chuckle as the two of them begin to imitate Sulu and Spock, though Ganke has always struck me as more of a Scotty than Sulu.

Before I can plead for the knuckleheads to calm down, a man on a platform above us clears his throat, drawing our attention. I look up to see Harold Osborn, CEO of Oscorp and the benefactor for our school, Visions Academy. He's dressed in a sharp, navy suit, and his dark hair is slicked back. If he wasn't so generous, he'd be uncle Aaron's very definition of "The Man", not that his generosity would sway Aaron Davis's mistrust of Osborn's kind.

He smiles welcomingly, "I'm so glad so many of Visions' finest decided to come on this trip. I know it's your Christmas break, but this is the slow time at the lab and I wanted to make sure you all got to see the amazing work we have going on here. So, I won't take much of your time, and I'll hand it over to the real genius behind Oscorp, Doctor Otto Octavius!"

A murmur goes through the students. Octavius is a genius, and a famous one to boot. He defected from the Nazis before the end of the war, and has worked on NASA's rocket program before coming to Oscorp. That we were going to get a lecture from him was legitimately exciting.

The man who wheels out next to Osborn isn't what I expect, however. Octavius is wheel-chair bound and scrawny. He looks more like something out of a comic book than a real person, with a bowl of greasy brown hair hanging over his lab goggles. He smiles down at us with a crooked, ugly looking grin, "Hello. Velcome to Oscorp Labs...I can see some of zhe...future geniuses of our country have come to grace us vith a visit."

I've heard that tone before. Sneering condescension of a white man insulted that some colored kids were allowed into his place. Octavius may be a genius, but he ain't no progressive, that's for sure. I try to hold back a sour look, but out of the corner of my eye I can see that Ganke couldn't do the same.

"You are here for a tour of our new reactor," Otto continues motioning towards a door to our right. "If you vould please go through zhere. I vill show you the future of American superiority."
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Hidden 4 mos ago Post by Hound55
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Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!

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Orson Randall, Older than Dirt (b. 1890 - kept young by the chi of Shou-Lao the Undying)
Protector of K'un L'un (No longer recognized, assumed dead)
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

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 tutelage. 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, inadvertently 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 would ring in his ears and he knew 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

References / Sample Post

Of course I believe in fate. How could I not?

It’s too early, Feng would send me home. My money’s good, but not so good he’s willing to risk his best customer.

I’m tinkering mindlessly in the shadows in the hovel my good money rent’s for me when I’m not chasing the dragon. To hide from the other people of the Dragon.

Scraps come together as my father taught me. The reason why it works long seems to have passed, the knowledge only survived by the fact that I know that it does work.

The potato bristles with static, before some vague chatter hums, vibrating through the metal that’s stuck within. I adjust the nails trying to clear the quiet voices from the crackle. I suspect I hear English…

Potato foxhole radio. I used to make them all the time back in the Somme. Why? I couldn’t tell you for sure.

I suspect it might have something to do with what flows through me having an interest with the interconnectivity of the world beyond. The world and the Chi of Shou-Lao the Undying work in mysterious ways.

A young child stumbles in through the open door, curious by the murmurings.

It’s unusual for any signs or sounds of life to come from this place, I suppose. It’s long since become only a place for respite whilst I run from it.

I nudge the potato radio over to the small boy to sate his curiosity. Which of course has the opposite effect. Out here such a thing would raise more questions than it answers. I look for my shirt and stagger to my feet, my head rolls, until I centre my discombobulated chi to clear it. The boy tests the device tapping one of the nails.

‘Let him go, Orson.’ I think to myself. Let him figure out its mysteries for himself.

He looks up at me wide-eyed, as if looking for an explanation, and I smile. I can feel it. Gods, has it been THAT long since this face creased up naturally for reasons other than the steel breeze?

I take the radio from him and start to adjust the nails, I close my eyes and reach out with what a little of what resides within…

…and the voices come back. Clearer now, that it’s been better tuned. I snort half a chuckle and hand it back, before ruffling the hair on the boy’s hands. He eagerly takes it and carefully puts it in the floor to listens to the strange sounds the potato has tapped into.

I put my boots back on and get up to leave. There’s nothing worth stealing in the small hovel. You get robbed once whilst black out, you learn to better secure your valuables somewhere you don’t lay your head. And it’s mutually known by the locals that the strange white stranger dope fiend doesn’t keep anything in his place.

For a few seconds I briefly think to myself “I wonder where it’s picking up the frequency from.” As I pass a handful of men wearing a similar colour green to myself, with a dash of red round the collar – more of Mao’s omnipresent Red Guards, still they’re none of my concern. They give me a glance and I recognise a slur, before laughter, but I’m more than happy to let them walk on.

But then the god awful wail…

Not the wail of a baby. And not the wail of the child at my place, if that’s what you’re worried about… but the terrible wail of some kind of electronic instrument.

And whilst I don’t recognise what it is exactly, I know what’s about to happen.

I sigh with a growl, turn and start staggering back. Feng and the poppy will have to wait.

I have to introduce some people to another dragon...
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Hidden 4 mos ago Post by Mao Mao
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Mao Mao Sheriff of Pure Hearts (They/Them)

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Diana of Themyscira, 1918 (b. ~50 AD)
Ambassador of JSA Achaeologist Adventure
Themiscyra, Turkey Gateway City, United States London, England

Active since 1916 (52 years)

Character Concept

"I have witnessed the beauty and the ugliness of man."

Inspirations: The Age of Adaline, Tomb Raider, Indiana Jones, Atlantis: The Lost Empire, Assassin's Creed Odyssey, Blood of Zeus, and Madam Secretary.

I love Wonder Woman because her character makes it easy to write about the politics of the era at one moment and then write her kicking some asses. This RP being set in the middle of the Cold War is so perfect. It only has been twenty-three years since the end of the Second World War. That presents me with the opportunity to have Diana reunite with her friends and enemies during the war. While finally playing around with the Greek mythology that I usually avoid because of realism. And of course, she will have plenty of time to be Wonder Woman in an ever-changing world.

I have to apologize for the long background on Diana. I got carried away. Hopefully, you are able to tolerate the rough timeline that I made as a TL;DR. And apologize for not finishing both of them, I promised to post today and so I am doing that. Plus, I am waiting for other sheets so I don't bother to make too many adjustments (writing the code for this post is annoying as hell). Hopefully, once it's completely done, you will enjoy reading my sheet completely.

Key Notes

References / Sample Post

I have already done a few posts as Wonder Woman. So, here are some of them along with the intro posts from The Misfits!

Absolute Comics: Season One - Wonder Woman

One Universe: World Of Heroes

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Hidden 4 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by Master Bruce
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Master Bruce Winged Freak

Member Seen 3 days ago

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Hidden 4 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by Asura
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Asura Ominous

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Jaime Reyes, 16 (b. 1952)
Based in New York City, New York
Active since approximately December 1967

Character Concept

Jaime Reyes wasn't an especially unique kid. Firstborn son a pair of hard working immigrant parents, trying their best to live out the American Dream and give their family a better life. A good egg, who kept his nose in the books and feet off the streets so he could pay back all that hard work by making something of himself. The type of kid whose greatest act of rebellion was staying up a little later than usual on Thursday nights to catch the latest episode of 'Trek. Jaime Reyes wasn't all that much different from any goodie-two shoes teenager across the good, god-fearing US of A.

Until he got his hands on that damn scarab, that is. Or rather, the scarab got it's hands on him. Or mandibles. Whatever.

Times were tough for the Reyes, just like they were for most of the inhabitants of East Harlem. They didn't have much, but what little they did have cost a hell of a lot more than it was worth. Both his parents worked themselves ragged trying to keep a roof over the heads of their children, Jaime among them. Good son that he was, Jaime decided he would help out. He had taken up a summer job waiting at a hotel in the better bits of Manhattan, where the skin tones got lighter and the pocket books, heavier. He had to fight for it, assure them it wouldn't interfere with his studies when classes resumed, that he could crack a book during his breaks and get home in time for lights out no problem. It took him a couple weeks, but eventually they relented, and like most all of his bargains, Jaime made good on his end.

Of course, Manhattan was a big place, and getting from the haves-nots to the haves took one through a number of bad areas. Jaime—for all his squeaky cleanliness—had grown up in Spanish Harlem his whole life. He knew how to keep his head down, to not go looking for trouble. But sooner or later, regardless of whether or not you go looking for it, in those kinds of places, it finds you. Jaime Reyes found himself on the mean end of a .38 on his way to a shift one dreary October evening. It was a typical shake-down, money or your life, and as much as he needed the money, Jaime needed his neck more. The muggers ended up getting a hell of a lot more than they bargained for when a passerby blew them halfway to Hell's Kitchen—with a BB gun of all things.

Turned out, damsels in distress weren't the only types of people who had a caped hero come to their rescue. Although, at the time, the Blue Beetle hadn't been in a cape. Nor did he own a cape, really. But there he was, in the right place at the right time to save the kid's hide. The youth was thankful to say the least, and spent the rest of the walk to the hotel blabbering ol' Blue's ear off. Turned out, Ted Kord was staying at the very hotel Jaime spent his afternoons and evenings toiling at.

In hindsight, being shot that night might have been the better of the two options.

For whatever reason, Ted must have taken a shine to him. Whenever he finished a shift and the old man was in, Jaime would head up to his room and they'd chat. About anything, the news, old war stories, sci-fi—realistically who else was Jaime gonna talk about Fantastic Voyage with?—and even the occasional new gizmo Kord was working on. It was good, having someone outside the family to look up to. But all good things came to an end. Without so much as a goodbye, Ted Kord checked out of the hotel one night and never came back. Jaime hadn't found out until the day after, as he was finishing up his shift. It was a sad thing, to lose a friend just as soon as you'd made one, but the old man had at least left him a parting gift; a box, full of little gadgets and souvenirs. A box which also held the very scarab that spawned the Blue Beetle mantle.

A scarab that ended burrowing its way into poor Jaime's spine.

Inner conflict is one of the most important vectors for which character development occurs. Some of the most iconic of comic book heroes have long histories of wrestling with their inner demons. Jaime wrestles with an
actual demon. Or something close enough to one. The struggle between good-hearted Jaime and the destructive urges of the Scarab, and their eventual synchronization and collaboration is a central draw for me when it comes to writing the character. I want to explore how the two of them come to terms with—and befriend—one another through their initially rocky partnership.

It's no secret that collaboration is a theme I'm gunning for in this roleplay in general, and once Jaime has gotten his body's favorite hitchhiker under control, I'd like to have him rub elbows with some like-minded individuals. Young folk with some Justice on their minds, and the power to change Society.

Key Notes

Characters of Note

References / Sample Post

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Hidden 4 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by Hero
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Hero Sincerest of Knights

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Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran, Age 15 (b. 1953)
Has Crash Landed in Newark Bay
Active as of Right Now

Character Concept

At this point in her life, Koriand'r has seen more of other planets than her own.

While she was born second into royalty on her home planet of Tamaran, Koriand'r was set to inherit the throne after her older sister, Komand'r, fell ill to a disease in her childhood that made her ineligible to become queen. Before the opportunity ever came, however, an interplanetary empire known as the Citadel came and invaded Tamaran. With a bitter Komand'r's assistance, they overwhelmed the Tamaranean citizens, and Koriand'r was given to the Citadel in their terms of surrender.

After years of torture, she was handed over to the Psions for experimentation. It wasn't until she developed the ability to conjure destructive blasts of solar energy despite the shackles that bound her that she was finally able to make her escape. After procuring a ship and eliminating any opposition, Koriand'r was able to drive a ship towards Tamaran. Unfortunately, a combination of bad luck and multiple hits meant her ship was going down sooner than later, and she was ultimately shot down, her ship crashing through Earth's atmosphere and landing in a body of water.

And so Koriand'r steps out of the bay, soaked to the bone, and looking around for a place to get her cuffs off.

tl;dr alien princess from outer space crash lands on earth. shenanigans ensue.

I think getting to write the development of a literal alien coming to Earth and learning things is not only hilarious, but also something I have yet to actually write. Writing canon characters will also be something new for me, but I'm excited for the challenge.

My hope is to write Starfire's experiences in a healthy mix of both comic and show counterpart. I know it's been done (with varying levels of success), I just wanna take a crack at it. I'll admit my long term plans are more a of a slow burn, with her arc of confronting her sister being way down the line (and possibly The Citadel at one point) and the priority being getting to know Earth and the many heroes hanging around. On the other hand, I think the introduction is a pretty good way to kick things off and will get a little zing going.
tl;dr goal = be the baddest bitch in boots

Key Notes

References / Sample Post

"Come now, we all knew this day would come."

"The Citadel is relentless, but their timing could not have been worse."

"Ah, yes, the princess is also..."

The conversation stopped as the door opened, the two women waiting to see who would come in. As Koriand'r poked her head in, green eyes scanned the room, excitement taking over as she spotted her mother. Luand'r beckoned her over, arms wide as her daughter flew into them. Letting out a giggle, Koriand'r's expression fell as she noticed the serious look on her mother's face.

"Mother? What's wrong?" She asked.

The other woman bowed her head to them both, choosing this chance to take her leave. Once the two were alone, Luand'r thought to herself on how to respond. "Wrong...no, today is a day to celebrate. For we have a new future queen," She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully.

Furrowing her brow, Koriand'r shook her head in disagreement. "But...Sister will be queen," She reminded her. "And she will rule. Father said so."

"He did, but things have changed," Luand'r said, sitting her daughter down next to her.


"It has been decided," Luand'r replied firmly, making it clear that she wasn't leaving any room for further questioning. "Tomorrow, we will make a formal announcement to all and we will celebrate. Someday, you will be Queen--"

"AHHHHHH!" Her own scream was so loud that it took her a second to register it was her own, the whiplash in her mind going from past to present disorienting her. It wasn't until the pain finally stopped that she remembered where she was. The cold handcuffs held her arms above her head, her body dangling in the air as the mechanism around her neck released her. Slowly, she was lowered to the ground, the air feeling like daggers against her skin. She could hardly feel the shackles around her legs, but then again, they were only there so when she did have the energy she couldn't reach any of the walls to smash.

There were faint voices that sounded far away, but Koriand'r paid no mind to them. They always said the same thing: 'she hasn't exploded yet'. The only thing that was any different this time around was that her hands were stinging, her fingers flexing repeatedly. It was weird, it felt like the sun was too hot on them, but there wasn't a single ounce of sunlight around her--only the light of the many machines. It didn't really hurt, but it was weird enough to notice.

The voices were gone, and at that point, her body was winding down. Except for her hands. What was going on with that? The sensation--yes, that word felt more fitting--wasn't going away, but aside from the handcuffs, they didn't look any different. Focusing on her palms, she squinted as she slowly closed her hands, a flash of green emitted from her fists. Letting out a gasp, she tried again and failed, but after a few tries, she got it again.

"What is this...?" Koriand'r couldn't help but mutter, letting out another gasp as she managed to get the light to stay. It almost felt like she was holding energy in her hands! How was this possible? Was this the explosion the Psions were looking for? No, they sounded disappointed, they would have noticed a change like this.

Or would they?

Gaining a second wind, she shifted herself to her knees and looked around. If this was energy she was harnessing, then she should be able to do something. And that something was best used against the glass where the scientists usually watched. Of course, if her idea worked and she was able to get out, they'd be all over her. They'd probably do more things and figure out why it happened. Honestly, the risks outweighed the slim chance of success, but if it meant even a glimmer of freedom, she had to go for it. But she wasn't going with an ability she just learned--instead, she was going to free herself then brawl her way out if she had to.

Lifting up her arms, she pointed her fists at the bolt holding the chains to her shackles as she concentrated. One flash, another, and after some time she was able to keep it consistent. Now, she should be able to do something with this. As she clenched her fists, she nearly yelled as the light shot out from her hands and obliterated the chain. Well, that worked much better than expected! Unfortunately, the blast didn't free her from her handcuffs, but she would just have to manage.

Free to fly, Koriand'r knew she didn't need her new ability to get out of there. With a savage battle cry, she smashed her fists against the glass repeatedly until it shattered, an alarm blaring shortly after. She wasn't going to wait for anyone to show up, but she quickly realized she had no idea where to go. Would it be easier to bash her way through a wall and fly to the nearest planet? No, a ship would be easiest, wouldn't it?

The sound of several voices snapped her out of her thoughts, and without a second to lose, Koriand'r flew as fast as she could. At the first sight of a Psion, she tackled it, taking a hold of its arm and dragging it with her.

"Where are the ships?" She asked.

"F-Fiend! Release me at--ACK!" Once she didn't get what she wanted, she made sure to slam him into a corner as she turned. "Brute! Unhand me!"

"I'll ask you one more time," She gripped his arms tightly, the green energy appearing. "Where are the ships?"

"T-To the left--AHHHH!"

She didn't bother keeping him around, flying over a group and tossing him back towards them. With freedom in sight, she flew through the gate, the hallway changing as she entered the small ship. She doubted it would get her back home, but she could get it to take her as far away from the Psions as possible.
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Hidden 3 mos ago Post by Byrd Man
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Byrd Man El Hombre Pájaro

Member Seen 2 hrs ago

Cpt. Franklin Clay, 33 (b. 1935)
Lt. William Roque, 29 (b. 1939)
Sgt. Carlos "Cougar" Alvarez, 25 (b. 1943)
Sgt. Linwood "Pooch" Porteous, 21 (b. 1947)
Cpl. Jacob "Jake" Jensen, 23 (b. 1945)
Marie Tran, 22 (b. 1946)
Based in Saigon, Vietnam
Active since approximately late 1967

Character Concept

"We the unwilling, lead by the unqualified to kill the unfortunate die for the ungrateful."

That pretty much sums up the average soldier's opinions on the Vietnam War. It's a fucking mess if you ask anyone who is even paying attention and there seems to be no end in sight. While President Johnson digs his heels in with an unprecedented bombing campaign with the ever optimistic goal of turning North Vietnam into the world's biggest parking lot, the CIA opts for a more surgical approach.

Green Beret Captain Franklin Clay heads up a new unit of less than desirable soldiers known as The Losers. Their targets are high-ranking VC members, as well as VC sympathizers and collaborators operating in South Vietnam. With intel given to them by their Agency handler, Max, they carry out a covert war designed to draw bring South Vietnam to the negotiating table and to get President Johnson four more years in the White House. But as Clay and his team wade deeper into the murky waters of Vietnam, they discover their work is in service of something much sinister than even the propagation of the US industrial death complex.

War, crime, death, history, conspiracies, and nihilistic characters if I can find the time to post. That's all I offer and nothing more.

Key Notes


References / Sample Post

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Hidden 3 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by BangoSkank
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BangoSkank Halfway Intriguing Halfling

Member Seen 5 hrs ago

Captain America
Steve Rogers, Age 25 (48) (b. 1920)
Based in San Francisco, California
Active since approximately 1941

Character Concept

For the world the end of the Great War was some 23 years ago. The ways of that world are already becoming things of occasional nostalgia and occasional disdain. They were quaint times, story book times, to many now who never lived through them. The past is viewed through the prism of the present. To Steve Rogers, sputtering and shivering to life in a land he was at war with, seemingly, yesterday the world has gone through this extensive change in no time at all. Yesterday was April 27th 1945 and then suddenly today was December 2nd 1967. Today today is December 31st, 1967 and Steve Rogers is due to meet with a group of men who may better understand what he is going through.

My concept is a slightly different spin of the 1960s Captain America, that is the Captain America still grieving Bucky's loss and trying to find his way in the world. Potentially working for S.H.I.E.L.D. and encountering Nick Fury again. Rather than Nixon bringing on the "Nomad" character later on I intend to have Steve Roger's in roughly that spot now, having woken to a very different America in a very different time.

I want to explore what Captain America means in so much as what America means to Steve Roger's Captain America and to Frank Simpson's Captain America who is in a very different position. What this means in Vietnam, what Captain America's role in a war should be, what America's role in the world should be, and what Captain America's role should be in peace time.

A man who grew up in a time when the entirety of Western Civilization seemed to be in danger of being destroyed and being replaced with an ugly war machine pushed ever forward by an ugly ideology now finds himself in a world where things do not seem so clear. There is not so obvious an other that must be beaten. America is not so clearly a force for great good, she is not so surrounded by Allies, it is not so easy to say she is in the right. So where does that leave Captain America.

Arc 1 : Steve Rogers in San Francisco, trying to figure out who and what he is now. Talking with Dum Dum Duggan and other veterans. Learning about America in the 60s. Frank Simpson in Vietnam, enjoying what he's doing and forming his own opinions about war.

Depending on what happens with events and connected characters I might change future Arcs but I'm thinking...

Arc 2 : Steve Rogers is getting involved in S.H.I.E.L.D. matters and past evils, learning about Frank Simpson, Vietnam, Civil Rights issues, Veterans in general and Communism. Frank Simpson is more fully involved in Vietnam, becoming an independent actor in addition to his more traditional role.

Arc 3 : Steve Rogers is putting things together involving corruption and the legacy of WW2. Frank Simpson is heading toward a clash with Steve Rogers. Trying to find out why.

Key Notes

Supporting Characters:

Timothy "Dum Dum" Dugan
Boston Born and Bred. Circus strongman. British Army. Howling Commando. Semi-Retired. S.H.I.E.L.D.
Runs a bar in San Francisco CA catering to Veterans.

Frank "Nuke or The Captain America of Vietnam" Simpson
Born in Ohio. Parents murdered by short ugly government agent. Raised for the military.
In his element in Vietnam.

Isaiah Green
Assistant Gunner to Frank Simpson. Tactically minded. Not much good behind a barrel.
Watching Frank Simpson's back through the Vietnam War.

Brock Rumlow
Mercenary. Showman. Goddamned Killer.

Sample Post

San Francisco, California
9:48 PM, December 31st 1967


I always tried to be timely. The military drilled that in to me, but even before all of that it was something that mattered to me. I learned early on you couldn't control it, there were too many variables, all you could do was try to be prepared when things shifted. I wasn't ready when pneumonia took my mother. I disappeared into comics, decided I would be an artist. I wasn't ready when the war came to America. God I was so skinny then. I had no idea what I was getting in to. None of us did. We couldn't have. I was timely though.

Couldn't have known how timely.

"So," the grizzled old man across the bar locked eyes with me and interrupted from my reverie, "Tell me about your day?"

I was distracted, lost in more ways than one, looking back into a once familiar face. Jesus Christ.

"It helps you know," Duggan said as he poured some good whiskey in an old glass and slid it over to me, "We don't talk."

"Irishmen?" I replied over my cup.

"Any of us. You know how long it took me to get some of these fuckers to talk? The shit don't come natural, after what we've seen, what we've done. You don't want to remember, you don't want to put that on your brothers. Don't want their sympathy, don't want their pity. None of us do, but you said you'd talk Rogers. It's New Years, it's what we do."

"I was never much for talking about the past. About memories. You know, all those years, it was action. All movement, all action, just one thing after another. Go, go, go."

"Yeah," my suddenly old buddy Dum Dum Duggan replied, with a loud unhealthy sounding exhale "I remember that, remember it better than most. Maybe more than anyone left, but for some of us memories is all we got left. Memories, this shit little bar, and now you Steve. A long lost friend come back. You owe it to us. Your day."

"It's a hell of a thing."

Old Dum Dum looked back at me, 23 years older than when I had last seen him. He had been a tank of a man, where had it all gone. Years on years, and it had all been just a few weeks ago. For me. It was a hell of a thing. How one day can change your world.
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