Since its been awhile since we spammed the OOC thread, I just want to say here that all talls deserve to be bopped.
Sincerely,
The Smols.
Sincerely,
The Smols.
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I just want to point out that only one of these apps is flying Lord Superboy colors.
Choose right. Choose Lord Superboy.
Paid for by the Committee to Elect Lord Superboy.
Choose right. Choose Lord Superboy.
Paid for by the Committee to Elect Lord Superboy.
Someone tell me "yes."
Fix'd
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
W I L D F I R E
R Y A N D ' R O F T A M A R A N ♦ E X I L E ♦ M E T R O P O L I S ♦ I N D E P E N D E N T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am stronger than I look."
Ryand'r of Tamaran is the youngest of three siblings and the only son of King Mythus of Tamaran and his queen, Luand'r. According to Tamaranean law, he is currently second in the line of royal succession, after his sister, Koriand'r. This is due to the fact that their eldest sibling, Komand'r, was deemed unfit to rule. Like all royalty of Tamaran, Ryand'r was sent to the Warlords of Okaara for education off-world and thus experienced a Spartan-esque childhood.
During the Citadel War, in which Komand'r led the Citadel Empire against her people, Ryand'r and Koriand'r were both captured and handed over to the Psions for experimentation. When loyalists attacked the ship ferrying them, Ryand'r and Koriand'r were able to escape, but were separated in the attempt. Ryand'r crashed on an alien world that was unknown to him, pursued by the Psions.
This world is not his home, but it is safety for the time being.
During the Citadel War, in which Komand'r led the Citadel Empire against her people, Ryand'r and Koriand'r were both captured and handed over to the Psions for experimentation. When loyalists attacked the ship ferrying them, Ryand'r and Koriand'r were able to escape, but were separated in the attempt. Ryand'r crashed on an alien world that was unknown to him, pursued by the Psions.
This world is not his home, but it is safety for the time being.
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:
Ryand'r is an alien to Earth, allowing me a good POV for exploring the mutant fear and including social justice commentary in an otherwise action-adventure storyline. As far as goals, I realized that I had written myself into quite a sandbox and so this character is an attempt at interacting more, by building in connections to other characters (such as @Inkarnate's Supergirl and @Byrd Man's Green Lanterns).
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
THE GOOD
• Al-x. A Green Lantern cadet learning the ropes.
• Sammy Pare. One of the so-called "Morlocks" living underneath Metropolis.
• Micah Flint (Rock). A mutated astronaut.
THE BAD
• Albert Michaels. An irradiated S.T.A.R. Labs scientist now known as the Atomic Skull.
• Reggie Meyer. A young mutant with the ability to create duplicates of himself, shared with a hive mind. The strength of his clones multiplies based on the number of clones that he creates.
• Worldkiller.exe. A Kryptonian artifact uncovered beneath the melting permafrost of the Arctic.
THE UGLY
• Suicide Slums. The last refuge of the homeless and destitute, where crime is rampant, police presence is minimal, and life is cheap. M-Town can be found here, one of the only places where mutants may find landlords willing to rent to them. At least the ones that can pass as human. It's rumored that underneath the Suicide Slums, those poor souls too inhuman to walk among society hide in the shadows...
• Al-x. A Green Lantern cadet learning the ropes.
• Sammy Pare. One of the so-called "Morlocks" living underneath Metropolis.
• Micah Flint (Rock). A mutated astronaut.
THE BAD
• Albert Michaels. An irradiated S.T.A.R. Labs scientist now known as the Atomic Skull.
• Reggie Meyer. A young mutant with the ability to create duplicates of himself, shared with a hive mind. The strength of his clones multiplies based on the number of clones that he creates.
• Worldkiller.exe. A Kryptonian artifact uncovered beneath the melting permafrost of the Arctic.
THE UGLY
• Suicide Slums. The last refuge of the homeless and destitute, where crime is rampant, police presence is minimal, and life is cheap. M-Town can be found here, one of the only places where mutants may find landlords willing to rent to them. At least the ones that can pass as human. It's rumored that underneath the Suicide Slums, those poor souls too inhuman to walk among society hide in the shadows...
P O S T C A T A L O G:
A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed arcs and stories.
Edited.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A LN O M A D
A N D T H E
O U T S I D E R SS T E V E N R O G E R S ♦ S U P E R S O L D I E R ♦ A W O L ♦ O U T S I D E R S
Denied.
Standing guard over the cart that was said to contain Tillman's pilfered wares, the young Padjal kept vigil there in the midst of the Silver Bazaar.
The vantage point beside the blue-haired Lalafellow afforded the horned youth with the opportunity to observe the comings and goings of the bazaar more closely. Which was when he discovered something that seemed as out of place in Thanalan as he was.
Taking a few steps further from the caravan, the Padjal gave a bow as he approached a most unusual sort of creature. Most would have said that it was a cat, but with bat-like wings and a glowing, round tuft above its head. This particular one was even further distinguished by the cap and satchel that it wore.
It was a delivery Moogle. They were found all through the Twelveswood, from Hyrstmill to Quarrymill, though it had never once occurred to the boy that the Moogles extended their reach beyond the forest. Though, before the Padjal could address his pom-kupo friend, a now familiar voice rang out from behind him.
“A lovely entourage, and all for me?”
The flamboyant Miqo'te was hard to mistake. Neither was the familiar form of Kajin, who emerged following after the dancer. Turning back toward the Moogle, the boy bowed his respects before traveling back toward where it seemed that J'horta and Kajin were appraising Lyveva of their apparent progress with Tillman.
"We believe this is the cart holding the remainder of what can be recovered," the Padjal noted, joining the conversation. At the use of the term 'we', the boy gestured toward the blue-haired Lalafellow named River.
"At the very least, you all deserve a respite from the heat, and lunch, and a bath, and..."
The boy just blinked. It was quite hot. Even being dressed for Gridania's temperate climate, he found that the leather jerkin he wore to be sticking to his skin. The Twelveswood attire was definitely not well suited to the Thanalan environment. Lunch sounded quite lovely as well, as the boy realized that he hadn't eaten anything since the crumpet at the Quicksand that morning.
The mention of a bath, however, caused the boy to give a look of confusion. Which, was when he realized that he was quite grimy, with sand clinging to his skin. And possibly smelling a bit like a chocobo from the caravan ride from Ul'dah. Even if it was just mid-day, a bath probably would be required before entering into whatever kind of abode this free company house was.
He had heard about such housing. Gridania even had a district dedicated for such things, known as the Lavender Beds. However, strange as it may have been, E-Siri had never so much as seen what it was like. When he was in Gridania, he was usually cloistered away inside Stillglade Fane. And, on those occasions that he managed to escape, the Wood Wailers usually ensured that he was delivered to his business in the Twelveswood without either delay or any deviations from the intended travel path.
The other Seedseers all seemed content with this arrangement. E-Siri found it incredibly frustrating. What was the point of the Council if they were only going to concern themselves with what was happening to the small parts of the world they solely concerned themselves with? That seemed to do little good for Gridania or the Twelveswood.
The vantage point beside the blue-haired Lalafellow afforded the horned youth with the opportunity to observe the comings and goings of the bazaar more closely. Which was when he discovered something that seemed as out of place in Thanalan as he was.
Taking a few steps further from the caravan, the Padjal gave a bow as he approached a most unusual sort of creature. Most would have said that it was a cat, but with bat-like wings and a glowing, round tuft above its head. This particular one was even further distinguished by the cap and satchel that it wore.
It was a delivery Moogle. They were found all through the Twelveswood, from Hyrstmill to Quarrymill, though it had never once occurred to the boy that the Moogles extended their reach beyond the forest. Though, before the Padjal could address his pom-kupo friend, a now familiar voice rang out from behind him.
“A lovely entourage, and all for me?”
The flamboyant Miqo'te was hard to mistake. Neither was the familiar form of Kajin, who emerged following after the dancer. Turning back toward the Moogle, the boy bowed his respects before traveling back toward where it seemed that J'horta and Kajin were appraising Lyveva of their apparent progress with Tillman.
"We believe this is the cart holding the remainder of what can be recovered," the Padjal noted, joining the conversation. At the use of the term 'we', the boy gestured toward the blue-haired Lalafellow named River.
"At the very least, you all deserve a respite from the heat, and lunch, and a bath, and..."
The boy just blinked. It was quite hot. Even being dressed for Gridania's temperate climate, he found that the leather jerkin he wore to be sticking to his skin. The Twelveswood attire was definitely not well suited to the Thanalan environment. Lunch sounded quite lovely as well, as the boy realized that he hadn't eaten anything since the crumpet at the Quicksand that morning.
The mention of a bath, however, caused the boy to give a look of confusion. Which, was when he realized that he was quite grimy, with sand clinging to his skin. And possibly smelling a bit like a chocobo from the caravan ride from Ul'dah. Even if it was just mid-day, a bath probably would be required before entering into whatever kind of abode this free company house was.
He had heard about such housing. Gridania even had a district dedicated for such things, known as the Lavender Beds. However, strange as it may have been, E-Siri had never so much as seen what it was like. When he was in Gridania, he was usually cloistered away inside Stillglade Fane. And, on those occasions that he managed to escape, the Wood Wailers usually ensured that he was delivered to his business in the Twelveswood without either delay or any deviations from the intended travel path.
The other Seedseers all seemed content with this arrangement. E-Siri found it incredibly frustrating. What was the point of the Council if they were only going to concern themselves with what was happening to the small parts of the world they solely concerned themselves with? That seemed to do little good for Gridania or the Twelveswood.
Aqualad seemed to have a plan.
It was probably good that someone had a plan. Garfield really wasn't much of one for plans. Not that he never had plans, they just tended to backfire spectacularly when he did. He was more of the spontaneous type of hero. Go with the flow. Do what feels natural. Drive it in deep and hope that something sticks... that sort of thing.
Which was probably not at all related to Garfield's poor relationship with Mento.
In any case, the hybrid similian's tail gave a flick, as the monkey-boy turned toward the dark skinned Atlantean. Giving the older teen a jaunty salute, the smiling youth switched to Portugese as he offered a bravado. "Falou, meu capitão!"
With that, the monkey-boy jumped up into the air. As he did, his body seemed to compress in on itself. In less than a second, the boy's gangly, arboreal form was replaced by that of a mere hummingbird. Zipping through the air, the miniature avian flew across the makeshift battlefield to where the orange-hued amazon seemed to be getting her bearings.
The green hummingbird exploded outward, its green mass expanding rapidly as the green teen in the red and white uniform re-appeared. As the soles of his shoes skidded over the black top, the boy slid close to where the young woman stood. He'd reverted back to his normal human form -- or, at least, as close to human as he could manage -- so not to startle the stranger with his usual monkey-boy heroics.
"Bonjour, ma chérie," the boy supplied in greeting, in French this time. As his momentum came to a halt, the youth gave a bow, then did a pirouette that ended in a flourish. Gesturing toward the ugly alien-things, the youth added, "Besoin d'un sauvetage, mais non? T'inquiète!"
Straightening back up, the Beast Boy planted his hands on his hips as he stood next to the fiery amazon and looked around.
Aqualad and Robin? These guys were totes pros! He didn't really know who the kid in the Superman shirt was, but one thing he did know was... they totally got this.
It was probably good that someone had a plan. Garfield really wasn't much of one for plans. Not that he never had plans, they just tended to backfire spectacularly when he did. He was more of the spontaneous type of hero. Go with the flow. Do what feels natural. Drive it in deep and hope that something sticks... that sort of thing.
Which was probably not at all related to Garfield's poor relationship with Mento.
In any case, the hybrid similian's tail gave a flick, as the monkey-boy turned toward the dark skinned Atlantean. Giving the older teen a jaunty salute, the smiling youth switched to Portugese as he offered a bravado. "Falou, meu capitão!"
With that, the monkey-boy jumped up into the air. As he did, his body seemed to compress in on itself. In less than a second, the boy's gangly, arboreal form was replaced by that of a mere hummingbird. Zipping through the air, the miniature avian flew across the makeshift battlefield to where the orange-hued amazon seemed to be getting her bearings.
The green hummingbird exploded outward, its green mass expanding rapidly as the green teen in the red and white uniform re-appeared. As the soles of his shoes skidded over the black top, the boy slid close to where the young woman stood. He'd reverted back to his normal human form -- or, at least, as close to human as he could manage -- so not to startle the stranger with his usual monkey-boy heroics.
"Bonjour, ma chérie," the boy supplied in greeting, in French this time. As his momentum came to a halt, the youth gave a bow, then did a pirouette that ended in a flourish. Gesturing toward the ugly alien-things, the youth added, "Besoin d'un sauvetage, mais non? T'inquiète!"
Straightening back up, the Beast Boy planted his hands on his hips as he stood next to the fiery amazon and looked around.
Aqualad and Robin? These guys were totes pros! He didn't really know who the kid in the Superman shirt was, but one thing he did know was... they totally got this.
B L Ü D H A V E N
Lanely Point
Extending her hand so that he could see it, Annie displayed an arm mangled by protrusions that were seemingly fused to her.
“I remember now,” Annie said, her face downcast as her arm went limp. “Clayface had washed out to sea. He couldn’t hold his form anymore. He drifted near those pipes and something in the chemicals made him whole again.”
Her arms came up, gripping the sleeves of the cardigan that she wore, as she seemed to try to hug herself. “But he wasn’t strong yet and he didn’t know where he was, so he created me. And then sent me off to find out if it was safe. I was supposed to look around and then come back, but when I walked away from him... I forgot.”
Turning her head up, the girl seemed on the verge of tears as she said, “Now he wants to take me back.”
Even for a computer, it was a lot of data to process. It was only a second or more, but to a digital processor, that was an eternity. When he’d finally blinked, the costumed toy wonder snapped forward. Placing his hands on the girl’s arms, he said, “I won’t let him.” His hands gave a squeeze as he declared, “Don’t worry. I’ll save you!”
“Save what?”
It was heart-wrenching, the sound of someone losing hope. Turning her face away from his, the girl softly uttered, “Don’t you see? I’m not real.”
In that instant, the doll’s own words seemed to play back into his audio receptors. “I’m not real, but you always treat me like I’m a real person,” he’d said those words to Dick. And Dick had tried to correct him. Suggested that Toyboy was as real as anyone.
He hadn’t believed it then. But, for some reason, he desperately needed to believe now.
“Yes,” the boy said, with such conviction that Annie looked up. “You are.”
“No, she’s not.”
“-tt-” the doll uttered, a tic displaying itself as Jason pulled himself away from Annie. Drawing an explosive batarang from his utility belt, the Toy Wonder squared off as Matthew Hagan emerged from out of the shadows of the chemical warehouse.
A large sickle-shaped blade formed, transforming Clayface’s right arm into a scythe that dragged along the ground, creating a grating sound. “You know now. You’re part of me,” Hagan said, extending his left hand out toward the girl. “Come home.”
“Stay behind me,” Jason snapped, flipping open the batarang. Dropping his stance, the doll was already starting to analyze the available options. “Don’t let him touch you,” the boy added, recalling that Annie had fused with Hagan’s debris.
Hagan’s right arm pulled back. “I’ve warned you once kid. Stay out of this!” Clayface roared, thrusting the scythe forward.
Jason jumped over the strike, bouncing off Clayface’s extended arm and then planting a swift boot print to Hagan’s face.
Slumping forward, Annie cradled her head in her hands. “I don’t know what to do anymore!”
“Come back to me,” Hagan uttered, even as he sparred with the Toy Wonder. “It’s the only thing you can do,” the man added, as his left hand started to stretch toward the girl.
“No!”
The batarang stuck into the back of Hagan’s head, producing a crater in the shoulder and torso when it exploded a moment later. Clayface’s form swirled, as the monstrous form turned to face the doll. As the creature’s head re-formed, the monster uttered, “That’s enough out of you.”
Jumping back, the boy narrowly avoided a scissor strike as Clayface produced two razor-like projectiles and launched them in a criss-cross fashion toward the youth. Landing atop a maintenance catwalk, the costumed youth paused only long enough to verify that he had Clayface’s full attention before scrambling up the thin metal scaffolding.
His eyes were actively scanning the OSHA warning labels on the tanks that surrounded them. He had already pulled Hagan’s chemical composition from memory. Hagan’s altered physiology contained carbon, lime, and calcium.
A tendril of clay looped overhead. Swinging up from the floor, Hagan’s colossal form dropped onto the catwalk in front of the toy wonder. “End of the line,” the man uttered, squatting low as he blocked the path ahead.
Putting his head down, the doll increased the power output to his hydraulic motors. He hit Clayface with inhuman force. The man briefly gave a gasp of surprise, as the boy tore straight through his body.
Solvent.
Oxide salt.
What he needed was alumina.
A tendril of clay wrapped itself around around the boy’s arm, morphing outward into a hand that seized him by the wrist as it pulled him back.
“You’re stronger than the last one,” Hagan uttered, as Clayface reformed himself.
Flattening his palm and fingers out into a knife-hand, the boy executed an inhumanly fast uppercut. The liquefaction from the strike caused the slash to expand outward, neatly bisecting Clayface’s torso and head as the Toy Wonder calmly took a step back.
“You would be mistaken to confuse me for the prior Robin,” Jason uttered flatly.
Two more tendrils came up from behind him, encircling his head and neck. “Shame you breathe like him,” Hagan uttered, reaching out to grab the boy by the shoulders and pull him into a bear hug. Layers upon layers of clay began to fold over his head. Pulling against the clay was like salt taffy, it came away in ribbons as the boy struggled against the creature.
That was when it saw it.
It was only a glimpse. A brief second. But it was enough for Toyboy to be able to accurately read the warning label on the tank that was beneath them.
It a storage tank containing tetracalcium aluminoferrite.
Clayface had enveloped Jason’s hands and arms, struggling to contain him in a battle of strength that caused Hagan to have to maintain a solid form.
It was enough for Robin to pick Hagan up off the catwalk. And then pitch both Clayface and himself off the side of it.
The pair slammed down into a brown, crystalline salt.
A cloud erupted, as Hagan leapt out a second later. “No,” the man uttered, trying to walk and only able to stagger a few steps before his leg broke off. His form was starting to harden. “N...”
Arm outstretched, Matthew Hagan solidified into a cement statue.
Jason dropped down from the tank a moment later. Annie rushed toward him, prompting the boy to throw up his hands to stop her. “Whoa. Don’t hug me,” he cautioned, being caked in the brown alumina salt.
Turning her head, Annie looked out over the statue of Hagan. “What about Clayface?”
“The statute of limitations has run on most of past crimes, but a significant number are still running.”
It had been so long since Dick had said anything, that even Jason had forgotten that the former Robin was monitoring from the man-cave. “Not to mention to most recent crimes, assuming we can make the evidence stick.”
"That's a problem for the police," the Toy Wonder stated finally.
“So what about me?” Annie asked next, turning her head up to look at the Toy Wonder.
“Yeah, what about her?”
The doll paused for a moment. “That’s up to you,” he stated finally, giving a smile toward the girl. “But, I think I know some people who can help.”
These people were entirely confusing.
First they were talking about renting bodies, which was the strangest way to describe labor that the Padjal had ever heard, and then Kajin had stormed into the room to confront Tillman. The Lalafellow had said not to follow, yet Kikipu seemed eager to do just that.
Oddly enough, the crazy Lalafellow was the one who seemed to have the best suggestion. Which was, keep an eye on the caravan whilst the others confronted Tillman. "Good idea," the youth remarked, picking up his shepherd's crook and following along his blue haired companion.
The atmosphere surrounding the Silver Bazaar was quite different from anything that the boy had experienced in the Twelveswood. Not that he'd seen much of the Twelveswood either. The Seedseer Council like to keep itself cloistered at Stillglade Fane. It was a welcome respite to be assigned a task outside Gridania, and not a common cause to be certain.
Now, he was here. Outside the Twelveswood, seeing the world for the wonder that it was. He could feel the elementals, here as much as in Gridania. It made him wonder why the Pact of Gelmorra continued to bind his people to their sacred forest, rather than seek broader understanding of the world around them -- the world in which the elementals were as inextricably bound as any of them.
Particularly with the changes brought about by the Calamity.
First they were talking about renting bodies, which was the strangest way to describe labor that the Padjal had ever heard, and then Kajin had stormed into the room to confront Tillman. The Lalafellow had said not to follow, yet Kikipu seemed eager to do just that.
Oddly enough, the crazy Lalafellow was the one who seemed to have the best suggestion. Which was, keep an eye on the caravan whilst the others confronted Tillman. "Good idea," the youth remarked, picking up his shepherd's crook and following along his blue haired companion.
The atmosphere surrounding the Silver Bazaar was quite different from anything that the boy had experienced in the Twelveswood. Not that he'd seen much of the Twelveswood either. The Seedseer Council like to keep itself cloistered at Stillglade Fane. It was a welcome respite to be assigned a task outside Gridania, and not a common cause to be certain.
Now, he was here. Outside the Twelveswood, seeing the world for the wonder that it was. He could feel the elementals, here as much as in Gridania. It made him wonder why the Pact of Gelmorra continued to bind his people to their sacred forest, rather than seek broader understanding of the world around them -- the world in which the elementals were as inextricably bound as any of them.
Particularly with the changes brought about by the Calamity.
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