Afro Samurai

Marvel REBORN (ALWAYS OPEN!)

@The Kid Lantern Updated with sample story arcs.

Character Crossover Crisis City: Reboot

James Howlett, A.K.A. Wolverine

Name
James Howlett, Wolverine, Logan.

Universe
Marvel/X-Men

Appearance


Personality
Hates basically everything and everyone sans Professor X and Jean Grey. Though he does have a tough exterior, he is a hero through and through. He absolutely will not stand by and let innocents or the defenseless be hurt or picked on by anyone. Deep in his heart, he has a love for other human beings and has, on several occasions, shown compassion for those who are in dire straights. Just don't make him angry--ever.

Powers/Skills

• Pure Adamantium Skeleton: His entire skeleton is infused with adamantium metal, the strongest metal in his respective universe. Once it hardens, it is, for all intents and purposes, unbreakable. (weaker types of adamantium such as proto-adamantium and secondary adamantium do not retain this unbreakable property.) Adamantium can cut through virtually any physical substance.
• Regenerative Healing Factor: A phenomenal healing factor is Wolverine's essential quality, without it none of his other abilities would be possible as he would be dead from metal poisoning and deoxynization of red blood cells. His healing factor allows him to heal from virtually any injury (save decapitation, but his Adamantium skeleton makes this feat nigh-impossible.) He has survived being blown to ashes, being ripped in half by adversary Hulk in the Ultimate universe, being shot in the head/heart, etc.
• Superhuman Senses: His lupine physiology grants him the enhanced sensory perception of his wolf cousintry. He can see up to several miles, pick up on scents from several miles away, hear people's heartbeats with his ears, amongst other things.
• Superhuman Strength: He is a low level superhuman, able to generate enough force to aid in cutting through the toughest of materials.
• Enhanced Speed: He can move faster than a normal human, his maximum speed feet (as far as I know) is 75mph.
• Superhuman Durability: An ode to his Adamantium skeleton (and actually, without it, his mutation and his lupine physiology would grant him the same thing); he has stood up to blows from The Thing, Hulk, Spiderman, Luke Cage, and several other bricks of his respective universe.
• Retractable Claws: He has the ability to unsheathe his Adamantium covered claws at will, without his healing factor, he would bleed out from the bone (or in this case the metal) piercing the skin. Of course, this is not the case. He can choose how many claws he ejects at a time.
• Enhanced Leap: He can leap great distances, though not up skyscrapers ala Hulk or Golden Age Superman.
• Berserker: When he goes all out and restrains nothing, his most viscous (and strategically weakest) ability. He becomes a rage fueled killing machine.
• Superhuman Stamina: He can fight for several days without tiring, an ode to his general superhuman/lupine physiology as well as his x-gene.

Brief Bio
A lot. Listing it would take me years. He is perhaps the most prominent member of the X-Men next to Xavier himself. He has dated Jean Grey, fought demons in Hell, killed lots of things, stopped galactic threats. There's really nothing Wolverine hasn't done.

Equipment
A tank-top, blue jeans, and steel-toe boots. Currently without his X-Men uniform.

@VitaVitaAR

Gotham City: Shadow of the Bat

The Ballad of Blackface Johnson

Act One

Scene One

---

Twelve years. It had been twelve years since Cochese had earned his stripes. He was a child when he went inside, and not much had changed in East End when he got out. Once vibrant nightwalker's sag, though the creases in their faces paired well with the crow's feet. Streets themselves didn't change much either, still littered with potholes and uneven sidewalks; alleyways flush with intense sun orange blaze from the barrels the resident hobos used to keep themselves warm--and to see if the syringe had entered the right vein. Turf lines hadn't changed much either.

As expected, Diddy Bop's death sent ripples through East End--for a week. His mother wailed at his funeral, news media hardly payed it much attention, there was a vigil and some distant "you are in my thoughts and prayers" social media posts. Then everybody moved on. A yellow cab came to a stop in the heart of Five Crowns territory, dead center of East End. Johnson peered through the pale glass of the cab window at the Crowns renovated base of operations; a graffiti laced warehouse, it was certainly more than the old abandoned tavern they used to occupy. Outside the warehouse stood four young looking recruits: 15 or 16 at most, they weren't even alive when Blackface earned his colors. One had a comb-over, one had Kurt Cobain length stringy hair that rested on his shoulders, the other adorned in a set of tight maroon skinny jeans and denim shorts. One had an iPhone. Maybe the End had changed since he was gone.

He got out of the car wearing his T-Shirt and and a pair of jeans provided to him several years into his sentence thanks to an anonymous donar who put money on his books. His kutte flung over his shoulder, he had grown quite a bit since he was a teenager (a fruitful sprout from 5'9 to a well proportioned 6'2). Up to the curb he went, black and white striped Adidas kissed gravel for the first time in over a decade. A grin clouded his face; a King was home, but there were no trumpets blown, no red carpets rolled, and the four court jesters ahead of him hadn't payed him any mind. Even the air was different, things were quiet and somber, for a moment those same feelings overcame him as well. He did his best to shake off the uneasy vibe and made his way into the warehouse. The four young wannabes hadn't acknowledged his presence.

---

"Well, from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes--" spouted Lunatic,
". . . A Five Crown King with so much soul!" Cochese patterned in return.

"You bad motha--" Terry continued,
"Shut cho' mouth!" Cochese stamped.

"How you been? You finally out, huh? How the joint treat'cha? Ya'ain' drop the soap did'ja?" Terry was one of those white guys with that indelible "soul" black people always accuse white people of lacking. He had rhythm, flare, style. He was, as Shaft so eloquently elocuted, bad.

Cochese gave a half-smile and a wholesome laugh in accompaniment; the dread he felt earlier had subsided, for the most part. Terry's warm reception of his return amidst several claps and jeers from other full-fledged members (albeit many new initiates who had recently earned their colors) and some wannabes gave him ease. He continued his banter with Terry without missing a beat,

"I ain't no sissy! ME? Drop the soap? You know who you talkin' to? I'm THE Blackface Johnson, baby! The coolest, smoothest, rudest, crudest, most dubious cat this side of Gotham!" Terry and Cochese cackled in unison.

"We been waitin' for you to come back, we got a present for ya! Brutus, bring it out!" On command, a burly colossus rose from the elongated oval table and went to one of the many crevices sprawled along the back of the warehouse and returned not long after his departure. An unfamiliar face, Cochese sized him up--and Brutus moniker couldn't be more prophetic of his physique. He was a big, ugly man who's muscled arms and scar-stitched face bore the marks of a man whom life hadn't treated well or fair. Terry placed the suitcase in front of Cochese as the two of them made their way to the oval table amidst incremental chatter from other members, chatter which gave way to anticipation and disinterest all the same when Terry dramatically dragged out the reveal of the homecoming present. A fresh kutte, emblazoned with a skull on its right side; the mark of one who has killed for his right to be one of the Crowned. Beneath the new patching were two crowns joined together at the side with decorated pearls and other accouterments; the symbol of the second-in-command.

"Welcome home, Prince!" Terry sung. Cochese was the number two now. He took orders from no one but Lunatic Terry himself. His emotions were mixed. Among the raucous lauding and whistling he mustered a smile.

"We gonna boogie tonight!" chimed a high pitch voice from the crowd.

Boy was it good to be home.

Character Crossover Crisis City: Reboot

@VitaVitaAR Edited his personality.

Marvel REBORN (ALWAYS OPEN!)

@The Kid Lantern I've got some fleshed out now, I'll be updating the CS later.

Character Crossover Crisis City: Reboot

@VitaVitaAR I did it again; I posted my unapproved character in the Characters tab. Flog and feather me if you will.

Character Crossover Crisis City: Reboot

James Howlett, A.K.A. Wolverine

Name
James Howlett, Wolverine, Logan.

Universe
Marvel/X-Men

Appearance


Personality
Hates basically everything and everyone sans Professor X and Jean Grey. Though he does have a tough exterior, he is a hero through and through. He absolutely will not stand by and let innocents or the defenseless be hurt or picked on by anyone. Deep in his heart, he has a love for other human beings and has, on several occasions, shown compassion for those who are in dire straights. Just don't make him angry--ever.

Powers/Skills

• Pure Adamantium Skeleton: His entire skeleton is infused with adamantium metal, the strongest metal in his respective universe. Once it hardens, it is, for all intents and purposes, unbreakable. (weaker types of adamantium such as proto-adamantium and secondary adamantium do not retain this unbreakable property.) Adamantium can cut through virtually any physical substance.
• Regenerative Healing Factor: A phenomenal healing factor is Wolverine's essential quality, without it none of his other abilities would be possible as he would be dead from metal poisoning and deoxynization of red blood cells. His healing factor allows him to heal from virtually any injury (save decapitation, but his Adamantium skeleton makes this feat nigh-impossible.) He has survived being blown to ashes, being ripped in half by adversary Hulk in the Ultimate universe, being shot in the head/heart, etc.
• Superhuman Senses: His lupine physiology grants him the enhanced sensory perception of his wolf cousintry. He can see up to several miles, pick up on scents from several miles away, hear people's heartbeats with his ears, amongst other things.
• Superhuman Strength: He is a low level superhuman, able to generate enough force to aid in cutting through the toughest of materials.
• Enhanced Speed: He can move faster than a normal human, his maximum speed feet (as far as I know) is 75mph.
• Superhuman Durability: An ode to his Adamantium skeleton (and actually, without it, his mutation and his lupine physiology would grant him the same thing); he has stood up to blows from The Thing, Hulk, Spiderman, Luke Cage, and several other bricks of his respective universe.
• Retractable Claws: He has the ability to unsheathe his Adamantium covered claws at will, without his healing factor, he would bleed out from the bone (or in this case the metal) piercing the skin. Of course, this is not the case. He can choose how many claws he ejects at a time.
• Enhanced Leap: He can leap great distances, though not up skyscrapers ala Hulk or Golden Age Superman.
• Berserker: When he goes all out and restrains nothing, his most viscous (and strategically weakest) ability. He becomes a rage fueled killing machine.
• Superhuman Stamina: He can fight for several days without tiring, an ode to his general superhuman/lupine physiology as well as his x-gene.

Brief Bio
A lot. Listing it would take me years. He is perhaps the most prominent member of the X-Men next to Xavier himself. He has dated Jean Grey, fought demons in Hell, killed lots of things, stopped galactic threats. There's really nothing Wolverine hasn't done.

Equipment
A tank-top, blue jeans, and steel-toe boots. Currently without his X-Men uniform.

The tales of Calradia

I have like ten M&B Warband mods installed on Steam right now. Nice to see one here. Definitely interested.

Gotham City: Shadow of the Bat

Cochese "Blackface" Johnson

Name: Cochese Vermont Johnson.

Age
27.

Appearance:


Personality
An avid fan of seventies blaxploitation films, he retains the stoccata beat and imabic stresses exhibited by the earliest blaxploitation stars: Pamela Greer, Richard Roundtree, Melvin Van Peebles, Fred Willliamson. He is quick to fly into indignant and irrational fits if he feels slighted. His stride is lax, a smooth glide matches his otherwise tempered and simple outlook on life: be the flyest, baddest cat around.

Biography
At age 9 he was the 'look out' kid for local corner boys and petty drug hustlers. Number slips, nickelbags, grocery lists, anything one might fathom. By age eleven he had already learned how to use his first deuce-deuce or .22 as the ofay kids say. He shot bottles, cans, squirrels and any other unsuspecting inanimate (and when he felt especially cruel, animate) objects that crossed his path. Cochese was 15 when he shot his first human being. By then he had graduated to larger handguns: .45 ACP's, Magnums, Desert Eagles, real wrist ringers. Gotham's desolate East End was in the middle of a turf war between three gangs. Two-Face, Black Mask, and a small splinter gang formed of disillusioned and power-hungry dimwits from both sides, The Five Crowns, vie for the scraps of some old and long forgotten warehouses and rights to small strips of drug turf littered with empty syringes and an ever-dwindling clientele base.

Diddy Bop was his street name. His real name was Demaree Robinson, Cochese knew him from his time spent as a runner for Lunatic Terry, leader and founder of Cochese's ilk. Diddy Bop was one of Two-Face's boys: he was a clean cut kid, smart as all get out; he should have stayed in school, why did he choose to throw his life away like that? Despite his idiocy, the kid could dance his tail off, if this were the eighties and breakdancing was still avant-garde alongside the rest of Hip-Hop culture, Diddy probably would have been one of the best B-Boys of all time. But this wasn't the eighties, and Diddy was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Cochese didn't want to do it, but if he didn't, he'd piss off Lunatic Terry--and if he did, well, let's just say there ain't no Black Caesars saving disenfranchised delinquent black boys from crazy white men with agendas and lots of guns. So, he carried out the hit. It was a late night in the dregs of East End's territory, and they were right on time. Two-Face's gang, outside of some of his closer conglomerate members, didn't take direct orders from the Face himself and instead the runts of the gang would wander off in search of their own opportunities to cause a little ruckus and bother the law-abiding citizens of the End. Upstanding patron of justice that he was, Cochese would stop them at all costs if it meant he finally got to rock colors: that maroon and brown with the golden crown engraved on the back and in white letters, "Five" stitched on the top of the logo and "Crowns" stitched beneath. It was all worth it.

He only wanted to hit one of them, though: Diddy. Why? There was no glory in killing someone you didn't know, any coward can do that. It takes some "cajones" as the Hispanics say to pop somebody you have a connection with. Black warpaint covered his face beneath a drawn hoodie and a baclava. He waited for them to separate and stalked his prey beneath the streetlights that only had every other one lit; the city hadn't bothered to fix the electrical wiring problem in East End for years, nobody cared. Finally, Diddy and his crew split up; Cochese crouched and advanced on his unsuspecting target slowly as Diddy shook up the spray can and began to tag a wall whose face had been decorated twelve times over by the other gangs. At this point, it was just more respectable to find a new wall to vandalize. Cochese took the safety off and cocked the hammer back mid-creep; the whir of the spray-can and Diddy's own adrenaline prevented him from picking up on the future Crowned King who would end his life.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOMBOOMBOOM!

.50 AE caliber rounds are made for putting down large animals, not human beings. Gruesome doesn't begin to paint how sickening the scene was. A quarter sized coup de tat gaped from the back of Diddy's head as his body crumpled and slid down the wall; that black hole stared right at Cochese, the murderer. Gunshots were common in East End, and normally wouldn't cause much rise from the tenants in the neighborhood, but these were death knells. The sound from the firing powder crackling alone was enough to rouse Rip Van Winkle from his slumber; windows flung open, blood rounded into a coagulated pool. Masked assailant and now Crowned King--official member of the Five Crowns, Cochese Johnson, later dubbed "Blackface" by his compatriots, had done it; he had earned his crown. He had thrown his youth away.

This was in the years before Batman had disappeared, the GCPD were still overworked, tired and underpaid--but they at least had the Dark Knight helming the effort against crime, particularly in East End. That's why it didn't take long for Cochese to be pinned with the murder. He had worn the same white and green Adidas tennis shoes that left shoe marks at the crime scene when he gotten into an argument with Lunatic Terry a few days later. Cochese had gotten cocky and carried himself with the same infectious pomp and arrogance as his blaxploitation heroes; his mouth got loud and loose--he started bragging about what he had done. It didn't take long for one of Gordon's lackeys to come knocking on his door with handcuffs and an arrest warrant.

He plead coersion and insanity--mental destability was common among his type, and he had taken orders from someone else. He served the first three years in juvenile until he was eighteen, then he was transferred to Blackgate where he served out the rest of his twelve year sentence.

Now he's back on the street. The Five Crowns are still active, and Lunatic Terry has done well to expand the small time band of rascals into a middling crime ring. But something is different... The Kings aren't too fond to hear about the returned of one of their Crowned.

Abilities: Metahuman (Gene is latent as of his introduction to the story)

Regenerative Healing Factor: Cochese can mitigate most forms of natural damage depending on the severity of the injury. His metagene accelerates his body's healing factor to exponential heights; this does not mean he is invulnerable or unkillable, rather it takes more than a few bullets and some stab wounds to take him down. If one were to cut off his head, he'd die a swift death. If he lost too much blood to a vital organ, he would die. Since he has no other unnatural entities in his body (metals, infusions) his healing factor is of a better grade than others and does not burn itself out as regularly.

Enhanced Agility: His metagene also grants him the ability to leap, twist, flip, duck, and weave effortlessly across a battlefield. He can chain punches and kicks together without having to think about it for a second.

Enhanced Reflexes: He is not fast enough to dodge bullets, but he can react quick enough to, say, a rapid offensive from a foe. His reaction speed is increased enough to allow him to avoid many unseen ailments to himself (traps, strikes coming from behind him or from the shadows) though he is not keen at detecting others.

Weapons: None as of right now.
Equipment: His Five Crowns kutte.
Weaknesses: Lacks refined martial training, he knows how to streetfight. He lacks leadership qualities and is often indecisive. His metagene has yet to activate, and so he is just a normal man. His pomp will get him into situations he often cannot get out of. He lacks insight and foresight, his mind is confined to the now.

Heroes and Villains : The Resistance (HAV : TR)

Yea. You don't invade planets without having a plan. That's why they're called planets, to remind you to plan it.

But more, our side. You don't send your entire planet to invade someone, which means this is just the occupation force. We are going to have to invade them in response or they will just send another army.

@KabenSaal

Maybe you're granting these aliens too much scope. It could be that this is a small, aggressive alien nation who mistakenly believes it has the necessary tech to take over the "inferior" human species. Perhaps they don't and/or cannot muster another invasion force. Invasion does not necessarily mean there will be more if the first wave is defeated.

Especially if we decimate them and send their heads back to their commanders on skewers.