Asura

①⑨⑥⑧

The Blue Beetle

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I S S U E #1: First Contact III L O C A T I O N Bayonne, New Jersey. 12:18 AM T A G S @Hero

Success! It wasn't often being the good at charades came in handy—frankly, this was the only time it had come in handy—but when it paid off, it paid off! There was still a level of tension in the air as the alien floated her way towards him, but she had stopped glowing, at least! That had to be good news. Glowing almost always meant lasers, and Jaime wasn't sure how laser-proof Mr. Kord's beetle robot was. <<Lifeform distance: close. Potential threat to host: unacceptable. Preparing to neutralize.>> Of course, Jaime was also not so sure how laser-proof this alien girl was. He might not have been entirely sure of what the scarab was capable of dishing out, but he knew one thing for sure—it wasn't lying. "We aren't neutralizing her. Maybe she's just... curious." He muttered through gritted teeth as the orange-skinned visitor seemed to circle around him. <<External investigation: equally unacceptable. Information exchange jeopardizes mission. Neutralization protocols required.>> "I said we—you are not hurting her. This is my body. You're just the tag along." He could feel the scarab tugging at his body from within; like it wanted him to move against his will, to do something bad. But it couldn't quite force it. It couldn't take control. <<Host: Unacceptably belligerent. Lifeform has made contact. Action required. Deploying neural shredder.>> "You're not deploying anything! I will put you away-" It was in that hurried whisper that Jaime realized something. He could put the scarab away. Then he wouldn't have to worry about it hurting anyone! Sure, it would leave him vulnerable, but a good Captain took risks! By the time the scarab had so much as caused a crackle to flicker between its mandibles, Jaime had locked it in a battle of wills. Go back in, go back in, go back in, go back in, go back INNAAAHH. He had forgotten, in that moment, how much it hurt to have the creepy crawling burrow its way back into his spine—he had thrown up the first couple of times. But he couldn't do that now, had to represent Earth. Had to bear it. As the metallic plating miraculous began to miniaturize and collapse inwards on itself, Jaime Reyes gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes, feeling the armor shrinking down until it all be disappeared between his shoulder blades with a sickening pop, the scarab going with it. The chill of wintry air that replaced the comfort of his armor shook him from the white hot pain, and he peeled his eyes open to peer at the alien without the benefit of a lens. The flying, glowy alien who had been pulverizing brick just a few minutes ago, and had apparently been poking at his chin while he muttered to himself like a crazy man. "I... Uh... Penny for your thoughts?" Maybe this was a bad idea.

①⑨⑥⑧

The Blue Beetle

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I S S U E #1: First Contact II L O C A T I O N Bayonne, New Jersey. 12:17 AM T A G S @Hero

Jaime was at least a little bit startled when the alien turned to address him—she did decide to start glowing and floating after spitting out that string of gibberish... Which, in hindsight, was probably a pretty offensive thing to call it. He made a mental note not to call her language gibberish during negotiations. Regardless of whatever he called it, it didn't change that fact he couldn't make out a single word she had said to him. At the very least he had spared the poor building any more trauma. "I come in peace. I just wanted to check on what was happening; my suit here says you had an, uhm, uncontrolled descent." Jaime said, holding his hands up in the universal signal of 'don't shoot'. At least, he assumed it was a universal signal. In hindsight, probably not a strong bet. "You said you know what her species is, can you translate her language for me? She does not look pleased to see me." He hurriedly whispered in the meanwhile. <<Subject exhibits signs of aggression. Speech patterns indicate displeasure in host's appearance. Confirmation: She is not pleased to see you. Suggested course of action: Judicious application->> "No fire!" <<Affirmative. Calculating alternative neutralization protocols.>> Jaime groaned to himself. Seeing as though the scarab didn't want to be especially useful in diplomatic matters, the teen decided to take things into his own hands. "Look, miss, there's no need to get angry, okay? I just want you to stop hitting the building before someone else in blue—who acts a lot less nice than me—comes by looking for you." He pantomimed her thwacking of the building with one of his hands, then shook his head 'no' several times. Body language. The ultimate form of expression. Yeah, this would work.

①⑨⑥⑧

The Blue Beetle

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I S S U E #1: First Contact L O C A T I O N Lower Manhattan, New York City. 12:14 AM T A G S @Hero

Having some kind of murderous, robot bug fused with your body came with a lot of downsides. It was always scanning the people around you, always looking for a reason to bring out the big guns, always whispering in the back of your head about the many creative ways it could neutralize potential threats—whether that was a shady looking guy on the curb or Mrs. Martínez' mean ass Rottweiler down the block. It was like having Jiminy Cricket welded to your spine, with none of the conscience and all of the bad attitude the world could muster. But, it also had its upsides. Like being able to fly you all the way downtown in the middle of the night, so you could settle in the skyline and watch New York bring in the New Year with a bang. It had taken a little finessing, a little white lie about heading to bed early to keep the folks from catching on, but it was worth it. Up here, there were no threats to neutralize and nothing to worry about. It was pretty relaxing, all things considered—a welcome change from the discomfort that usually accompanied being encased in... whatever it was that made up the armor. All Jaime Reyes had to do was kick back, watch the fire works, and try not to let any particularly daring gusts of wind knock him off his perch. <<Unknown object entering atmosphere.>> And ignore the buzzing in the back of his head. <<Atmospheric reentry speed maintained; uncontrolled descent detected.>> It was probably just the fireworks setting off its sensors. <<Estimated point of impact: Newark Bay, 40.677320174169694, -74.12057787059817. Time until impact: 24.2 seconds.>> That sounded specific. That sounded worryingly specific. Deciding to humor the machine inhabiting his body, Jaime pivoted on the ledge of the building he had made his home for the night. Under ordinary circumstances, he doubted he'd be able to make out something that far away. But with the suit enhancing his vision, he could just barely see it—a tiny, blazing dot shooting across the sky. "That... Okay, that's not good. You're sure it's not a meteor or something?" <<Negative. Energy signatures in line with technology beyond Earth capabilities; probability of extraterrestrial origin 98.2%. 10.4 seconds.>> "So... Aliens. An alien is about to crash land on Earth. In Newark of all places?" <<Affirmative. 2.6 seconds.>> If the ship hit hard enough to cause a splash, Jaime didn't see it through the urban sprawl of Manhattan. Maybe he wasn't supposed to see anything to begin with. A month ago, the idea of aliens arriving on Earth would have been something he relegated to passing fantasies and old, cheesy sci-fi flicks. But a month ago, he didn't have a suit of magical battle armor like the stuff out of old, cheesy sci-fi flicks either. It was hard to pass off the impossible when you were the impossible. Plus, aliens were friggin' cool! How could he pass up being the first to meet a Martian? He sure as heck wasn't going to let the poor bastards make first contact with New Jersey; they'd never want to come back if that's what they thought all of Earth was like. "Can you get us to where it landed? I wanna, uh... Investigate the intruder. From afar." <<Organic Host: Disingenuous. Advise against approaching object; capabilities unknown, risk to host unaccounted. Prioritize the mission.>> Always with the mission. As if Jaime had any idea what that meant. Heck, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what it meant, with how the little thing suggested overcoming potential obstacles. "We'll never know its capabilities unless we go looking. C'mon, we're headed out." Getting the bug to do what he wanted when it disagreed with their course of action—which it did often—was usually like pulling teeth. Trying to practice flying around the neighborhood at night took more than a few failed nights to achieve before it acquiesced and did what he wanted. That struggle must have come in handy now, because all it took was a little bit of focus before the back portion of the carapace opened with a click, and four translucent wings manifested along thin, metallic ribs. A little hop later and Jaime was sailing through the skies above Manhattan, and across the bay towards Newark, the faintest trail of exhaust behind him as the scarab propelled him through the air. For all its backtalk, Jaime couldn't doubt his involuntary partner's competence. It had only taken a minute or two to jet his way across the city towards the landing site, weaving here and there to avoid the occasional overachieving bottle rocket as he crossed the more populated portions. He did not, however, get to see an alien spaceship for all his trouble; no sooner than he zoomed his way towards the shore facing the bay did the scarab suddenly buzz to life again. <<Non-standard lifeform detected, coordinates 40.67226910969731, -74.12317516952908. Preliminary scans confirm extraterrestrial origin. Subject: Tamaranean. Inhabitant of Sector 2828, Vega System. Combat potential: far beyond humankind. Approach with caution.>> It was hard not to notice them. Even from far above, the scarab had locked in on the lone soul as it made its way towards a nearby building and started... wailing on it?! "Why in the world is it trying to box with a building? We need to get down there and stop it before it catches the wrong kind of attention." <<Affirmative. Tamaranean physiology resistant to specific wavelengths of electromagnetic radiation. Suggested course of action: Judicious application of thermal energy.>> "We are not setting it on fire!" With some effort and just a mite bit of fledgling skill, Jaime circled his way back around and began to descend towards the ground below. He hadn't quite mastered landings yet, and he certainly didn't know how to hover, but at least he had gotten down the 'don't puke in the bug suit' part. That would've made the upcoming introduction much more awkward than it already would be. A stumbled landing a little ways down the block later, and the youth was just a short jog away from the alien and its incessant thumping. Of course, a bird's eye thermal view and far too many hours watching William Shatner wail on men in rubber suits didn't quite prepare him for what he saw when he rounded the corner to confront this alien threat. "Visitor to Earth, I request you... Cease... Your... Actions?," he blinked, half in confusion and half to ensure the scarab wasn't playing some kind of trick on him. "Is this the alien? Why is it a girl?" <<Tamaraneans exhibit similar sexual dimorphism to humanity. Subject appears to be a juvenile. Confirmation: It is a girl.>> "Yeah, I noticed!" Remembering he was, in fact, not alone with the scarab and therefore looked just a tad crazy yelling into the blank void beside him, the armor-clad teen composed himself and focused on the task at hand; welcoming this being to Earth. Or, at least, getting her to stop assaulting the side of a warehouse. "G-Greetings." Nailed it.

Asura's Shrine

| 𝐆 𝐑 𝐄 𝐘 𝐖 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐍 𝐀 𝐑 𝐂 𝐇 𝐈 𝐕 𝐄 |

---

"Cursed? You have me mistaken. The only one here who bears a curse is you—the curse of my ire."

---

| 𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐂 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐈 𝐍 𝐅 𝐎 𝐑 𝐌 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 |

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 |
Aldwin Howe
𝐀𝐆𝐄 |
22
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 |
Male (He/Him)
𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 |
Human
𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍 |
Circle
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 |
Acolyte
𝐇𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄 |
#BDD8DA

---

| 𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐂 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐀 𝐏 𝐏 𝐄 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐍 𝐂 𝐄 |

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 & 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 |
Five foot ten inches, with a lean musculature.
𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐄𝐘𝐄 & 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 |
Fair of skin, with chestnut brown hair kept short and deep cerulean eyes.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 |
His eyes are a deeper, darker shade of blue than most, akin to looking into the sea rather then the sky.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐅𝐈𝐓 |
Aldwin typically bedecks himself in the styles of Ferelden; tunics and trousers of blacks and browns, with leather boots and gloves to keep his appendages safe. Atop it he wears an olive green surcoat, with the symbol of the Wardens having been recently stitched in. A strap of cracked brown leather is used to secure his staff to his back when it isn't in use, and a similar belt around his waist holds the hilt that marks him as a Knight-Enchanter, ready to be drawn and channeled at a moment's notice. Though his clothing flows and breathes like the robes so many mages wear, they are not robes, and he has a great disdain for the garb of his brethren.
𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐌𝐒 |
Despite having spent more time a mage than a nobleman, Aldwin holds himself with a posture of pride and authority. He carries a certain unfitting severity on his otherwise gentle features, as if to command respect from those he interacts with. His eyes are expressive, and he tends to wear his emotions on his sleeve in spite of his best attempts to remain stoic and aloof. He has a bad habit of fiddling with his hands when nervous.

---

| 𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐂 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 𝐖 𝐎 𝐑 𝐊 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆 𝐒 |

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 |
The Grey Wardens are a means to an end for Aldwin—he is a scion of the Vigil, and his place was not to remain in a Circle for the rest of his days, rotting under the disdainful gaze of the Templars. He seeks glory and honor, something the Wardens in their prestige can provide him, and in return offers the boons of magic he has carefully cultivated over the years of his imprisonment.
𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 |

• Honorable: Aldwin conducts himself with honesty and integrity—he is not the kind to lie or act underhandedly.
• Courageous: It cannot be said Aldwin is a craven. He will risk life and limb to do what he must.
• Empathetic: It is perhaps because of his captivity that Aldwin is a man sensitive to the feelings and desires or others, and tries not to trample upon those.

𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒 |

• Impulsive: Aldwin is a man who is quick to act and this often bites him when patience would serve better.
• Stubborn: Once he's dug his heels in on a position, you'll have an easier time coaxing a mule than you will convincing him otherwise.
• Temperamental: Aldwin is quick to anger and prone to let is show.

𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒 |

• Pretty girls with pointy ears.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 |
Righteousness. Aldwin wants to be remembered like the heroes in the story books, who dispensed justice and remained true to themselves and their creed even against the worst of adversities. He will always try to do what he thinks is right, no matter the consequences, to live up to this self-inflicted expectation.

---

| 𝐌 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 |

☐ 𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 | -1
-
☐ 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 | 0
Stamina
☒ 𝕮𝖚𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 | 0
Arcane Lore
Healing
☐ 𝕯𝖊𝖝𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖞 | +2
Riding
Initiative
☒ 𝕸𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 | +4
Arcane
☐ 𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 | -2
-
☐ 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖙𝖍 | 0
-
☒ 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖕𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗 | +1
Courage

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 |
Knight-Enchanter

For Aldwin, the way of the Knight-Enchanter is more than just a simple specialization of his skills as a mage. It was his salvation from the maddening doldrums of the Circle. It was an outlet for his energy, something he could dedicate his body to in favor of the bookish learning so many of his fellows engaged in. It was a way for him to remember where he came from, to fight in the front like his father's knights. It was the way he could turn his curse into a boon, a boon worth being wielded by the man he wanted to be. To be a Knight-Enchanter was to be more than a simple mage to be tolerated, but a warrior to be respected.

Aldwin's usage of his powers follow this trend; he summons forth his razor thin blade of magical energy and wades into battle with the others, conjuring walls of force and barriers to keep him safe where plate could not. With his magic he bolsters himself and his comrades, endowing them with vigor unnatural and imbuing their blades with fire and ice and lightning all. He is a protector as much as he is a killer, a healer as much as he is a bane, using his abilities for the good of his allies just as often as he uses them to cut down his foes.

𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 |
𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐘

Novice ► Journeyman

Description

You can treat wounds and illnesses.
Novice: You have trained in the art of chirurgy and your aid is swift and sure.
Journeyman: You have the hands of a healer. You can provide life-saving healing at the moment.

𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏

Novice

Description

You are a skilled rider and can handle horses and other beasts of burden with ease.
Novice: You can jump into the saddle quickly. Mounting a steed requires no effort.

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐒

Novice

Description

You react to threats speedily and instinctively.
Novice: You can prepare yourself for action in an instant. You can ready your weapon/magic without anyone noticing.

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒 |

• Arcane Lance: A bolt of arcane energy flung from the mage's hands or staff. All mages have this ability.

Arcane

• Arcane Shield: The mage conjures a protective aura that deflects incoming attacks for as long as this mode is active.
• Barrier: The mage or an ally is enveloped in a telekinetic field that repels significant damage.
• Elemental Weapon: While this spell is active, the caster's staff channels its base elemental power across the entire party, enchanting the weapons of allies to give them additional elemental damage.

Creation

• Heal: The mage imbues an ally with restorative energy, knitting flesh and mending bone.
• Heroic Aura: The mage enhances the party's aptitude in battle for as long as this mode is active.
• Haste: The mage imbues the party with speed for a short time.

Knight-Enchanter

• Spirit Blade: The mage creates a blade of solid magic to make melee attacks against nearby enemies.

---

| 𝐄 𝐐 𝐔 𝐈 𝐏 𝐌 𝐄 𝐍 𝐓 & 𝐁 𝐄 𝐋 𝐎 𝐍 𝐆 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆 𝐒 |

𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 |

• Acolyte Staff (Fire)
• Spirit Blade Hilt
• Lyrium-infused Silver Ring
• Traveler's Clothes
• Riding Horse?

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 |

• Dagger
• Health Poultices

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊 |

• Backpack, water skin, flint & steel, sleeping roll
• Medical supplies
• Miscellaneous herbs and plant matter
• A signet ring, bearing the symbol of the Howe family
• A suspicious book titled Dalish Darlings

---

| 𝐑 𝐄 𝐋 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 𝐒 𝐇 𝐈 𝐏 𝐒 |

CHARACTER NAME|
Your character's opinion. Copy & Paste as many times as needed.

---

①⑨⑥⑧

B L U E B E E T L E

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

The Cast

Ted Kord
An eccentric hero and the closest thing to a mentor Jaime has had. The two shared a brief kinship during his two month stay at the hotel Jaime works at in late '67, bonding over a shared love for science fiction and gadgetry. He disappeared as quickly as he appeared, but left Jaime with a few parting trinkets, among them the Scarab that would change the youth's life forever.

Paco Testas
Jaime's best friend since kindergarten, and the brawn to his brains. He also counts himself among the few people can even call a friend to begin with, to say nothing of the young Beetle's social skills.

Brenda Del Vecchio
Like Paco, but shorter, and angrier, and more ginger. Also female. The second of the short list that is Jaime's social circle, and definitely the one that vexes him most.

Danielle Garrett
The granddaughter of the late Dan Garrett, the first Blue Beetle. Not exactly on Jaime's radar as of now, but as his nascent career begins to pick up traction, it's only a matter of time before she comes sniffing around for her inheritance. Archaeologists aren't exactly known for their willingness to share finds, after all.

The Rogues

The Reach
An intergalactic empire of conquerors hellbent on making the universe their own. It was their technology that created the Scarab and sent it to Earth some millennia ago, intent for it to subsume an organic host and bring the planet to its knees ahead of a proper invasion force. A little ancient Egyptian meddling thwarted their initial plans, but now that the Scarab has awoken and secured a host in Jaime Reyes, it's only a matter of time before they come looking to settle a long forgotten score.

La Dama
An occultist-turned-gangster, La Dama doesn't have the reputation of a Capone or a Luciano, but she makes up for it by being twice as vicious and a heck of a lot more dangerous, on account of all the magic. Currently expanding her influence through the street-gangs of the Bronx and Spanish Harlem, her expansionism will inevitably pit her burgeoning criminal enterprise against an equally fresh Blue Beetle.

The Posse
A group of insular metahuman street-punks trying to make it in a rapidly changing world. They might not be the monologue supervillain type, but Harlem is a dog-eat-dog neighborhood, and they've become increasingly known for flexing their abilities to keep the mutts at bay. How well that tactic will work against a crime-stopping Beetle is to be seen.

References / Sample Post

---

manga
are comics
too

①⑨⑥⑧

bzz bzz motherfucker.

Sheet is done.

①⑨⑥⑧

it's a bug it's a plane

B L U E B E E T L E

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

The Cast

Ted Kord
An eccentric hero and the closest thing to a mentor Jaime has had. The two shared a brief kinship during his two month stay at the hotel Jaime works at in late '67, bonding over a shared love for science fiction and gadgetry. He disappeared as quickly as he appeared, but left Jaime with a few parting trinkets, among them the Scarab that would change the youth's life forever.

Paco Testas
Jaime's best friend since kindergarten, and the brawn to his brains. He also counts himself among the few people can even call a friend to begin with, to say nothing of the young Beetle's social skills.

Brenda Del Vecchio
Like Paco, but shorter, and angrier, and more ginger. Also female. The second of the short list that is Jaime's social circle, and definitely the one that vexes him most.

Danielle Garrett
The granddaughter of the late Dan Garrett, the first Blue Beetle. Not exactly on Jaime's radar as of now, but as his nascent career begins to pick up traction, it's only a matter of time before she comes sniffing around for her inheritance. Archaeologists aren't exactly known for their willingness to share finds, after all.

The Rogues

The Reach
An intergalactic empire of conquerors hellbent on making the universe their own. It was their technology that created the Scarab and sent it to Earth some millennia ago, intent for it to subsume an organic host and bring the planet to its knees ahead of a proper invasion force. A little ancient Egyptian meddling thwarted their initial plans, but now that the Scarab has awoken and secured a host in Jaime Reyes, it's only a matter of time before they come looking to settle a long forgotten score.

La Dama
An occultist-turned-gangster, La Dama doesn't have the reputation of a Capone or a Luciano, but she makes up for it by being twice as vicious and a heck of a lot more dangerous, on account of all the magic. Currently expanding her influence through the street-gangs of the Bronx and Spanish Harlem, her expansionism will inevitably pit her burgeoning criminal enterprise against an equally fresh Blue Beetle.

The Posse
A group of insular metahuman street-punks trying to make it in a rapidly changing world. They might not be the monologue supervillain type, but Harlem is a dog-eat-dog neighborhood, and they've become increasingly known for flexing their abilities to keep the mutts at bay. How well that tactic will work against a crime-stopping Beetle is to be seen.

References / Sample Post

---

manga
are comics
too

①⑨⑥⑧

Me looking for the rights to play Venom.

Asura's Shrine

The Blue Beetle

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I S S U E #1: First Contact L O C A T I O N Lower Manhattan, New York City. 12:14 am T A G S

For the length of the journey between the academy and the minor clan quarter, Mitsuko remained as she usually was—silent. It was for the best, as she had little to say in response to Shunpei's absentminded inquiry as to her apple like complexion's origin. She was already ashamed enough to break her composure in such an uncontrollable way in front of their sensei, and the teasing that followed from Tsume did little to abate that feeling. Devoid of meaningful contribution, she cast her gaze towards the ground and opted to follow closely behind her nascent squad, led by the intrepid Hatake into parts that, for someone of her relatively high station, were totally unknown. She had never enjoyed much freedom to explore the village, remaining within the confines of the Hyūga compound when she was not at the academy. It went without saying the new surroundings did not do much to help the anxiety of the day, but it provided a somewhat welcome distraction from her embarrassment. It was easy to surmise that this portion of the village was where the less well-to-do members of the population lived; the buildings were not so large or well-crafted, the streets were left to standards of cleanliness far below what she was accustomed to, and the people themselves fell marginally beneath the high aesthetic standards of her clansmen. It made her nervous, in truth. She felt like more of an outsider here than she normally did, and that feeling did not leave her even as they approached their apparent destination. For the first time since they passed through the gates of the academy, Mitsuko rose her head to steal more than a passing glance, and looked upon the dingy restaurant Shunpei had decided on. "It's, uhm... quaint." She murmured to no one in particular, uncertain how to politely phrase her trepidation. She didn't have the opportunity to indulge in restaurants back home, though mother occasionally allowed her to buy snacks from the push-carts that set up within their quarter during festivals and celebrations. While Shunpei expressed his shock at their sensei's presence—something Mitsuko had oddly not paid much mind to, in spite of her hyper vigilance during the journey—the young Hyūga looked worriedly at that run-down ramen stand, then back to her team mates. Would the food be safe? Surely the sanitation standards in this part of town couldn't be that high... Shunpei was familiar with it though, so surely the food couldn't have been too dangerous. How would she pay for it? She hadn't received an allowance in all her years, and they hadn't yet begun to take missions. Was Shunpei going to pay for them? How could he afford such extravagance if he lived in this part of the village? Ramen had meat in it, didn't it? Did they serve any food without meat in it? Meat was a luxury, and as such was rarely featured in her home. She didn't much like the idea of eating animals anyway, and the thought of a cute little pig having to die to sate her opulence made her almost as anxious as the food vendor in front of her did. When she noticed her team mates making to take a seat, she steeled herself against the cacophony of thoughts swirling in her mind and swallowed hard. "Gambaro, Mitsuko." She whispered to herself, and pushed past the curtains separating the street from the counter, taking a seat on one of the many stools next to Shunpei.

Blood Runs Over Westeros Mk4 - A Game of Thrones Roleplay

House Stark

House Information

---

House

Synopsis

Describe your house in one paragraph.

Head of House

Lord Rickon Stark

Seat

Winterfell

Demesne

House Cerwyn of Castle Cerwyn
House Dustin of Barrow Hall
House Flint of Widow's Watch
House Glover of Deepwood Motte
House Hornwood of Hornwood
House Manderly of New Castle
House Mormont of Bear Island
House Poole of the Dreadfort
House Reed of Greywater Watch
House Ryswell of the Rills
House Tallhart of Torrhen's Square
House Thenn of Karhold
House Umber of Last Hearth

Recent History

What has occured in your house's history in recent years?

Realm Relations

What are the established perceptions and alliances between your house and others in the realm?

Storyline Premise

What is the story you are wishing to tell with this character and his house?

Character Information

---

Family

Identity

Rickon Stark

Age

67

Role

Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North

Characterization

Describe said character's reputation and values.

Attributes & Talents

Describe said character's abilities and skills.

Immediate Family

List his immediate family.

Personal Relations

Describe notable (PC) characters they know, why they know them, and what their opinion of said character is.