6:01 PM, October 26th 2020 Oscar's Apartment; Hub City, Illinois
These past few months hadn't been half bad. Oscar patrolled with Alias most days, did good at his work, and was getting a decent amount of sleep. His social life was... Lacking, to say the least, after all the only things he did were go to work and patrol so it makes sense. He had just gotten off work today and arrived home, deciding that he should finally check his voicemail.
"You have -Two Hundred and Seventy Six- new messages."
"... Can't say I'm surprised." He muttered to himself, before pressing the button and listening to them all from the first.
Mostly it was telemarketers, no friends. He did get a message from Preston, the guy he met at the bar almost a year ago ('A year ago? Has it been that long?'), a few months back. He blushed in embarrassment, wishing he had called to help get Preston up to speed. Though really he was pretty out of the loop himself during that time, so God knows how much help he could have been.
About an hour had passed and he was on the final message. It was another one from Preston. It seemed the normal affair, then Preston dropped a bombshell on him. He was Emerald Knight, Coast City's premier superhero. That's... Something.
Oscar picked up the phone, calling Preston back. "Pick up, pick up..."
October 25th, 2018 - 7:14 pm | Justice League Headquarters - Metro Tower
Years of living in the slums of Hub City taught Victor Sage a few things.
One of these things was to never trust anyone. He had broken this rule a few times, what with Professor Rodor, Blue Beetle, Myra, etcetera, but for the most part he had held true to this. For this reason, his room in the Metro Tower had several locks on it including a fingerprint scanner, his computer had several passwords that one had to decrypt and encrypt several times before they could even get to the real log in screen, and his sugar cubes were never left in the community fridge; they were always in a minifridge he kept hidden in his closet, inside of a safe that was inside of another safe.
Most would say the Question was a nut. He would say they were still in their shells.
It wasn't odd for the Question to lock himself in his room for days, even weeks on end, in fact it was pretty much a normal occurrence in the Tower to not see the faceless conspiracy theorist for days. Eventually, he would emerge from his room, bad odor radiating from him due to lack of bathing, his already lean build looking smaller due to lack of food, his rosy mask contrasting with his pale neck due to lack of sunlight. He accredited these prolonged absences to research binges, and never once was it a lie.
"... The Girl Scouts. They're expanding their reach." The reporter murmured to himself, his brown eyes narrowing at the computer screen. Suddenly, he burst up, slamming his fist against his poster board full of tacked on notes. "Damn those skirt wearing, beret loving, cookie selling bastards!" He turned to one of his various conspiracy boards, which he had set up over the past two days, detailing the increasing number of crop circles being produced by the Girl Scouts. "Is the future immutable!? Can destiny be changed?! Will they allow it?" He shouted to himself, startling Amazing Man who was walking past his door at the time. Taking a deep breath, Question sat himself back down in his chair, preparing to continue his research. He began to type...
Zzzzzzzt...
Question was left dumbfounded as he stared at his pitch black monitor, wondering what happened. '... They're making their move. They need to get rid of me. Oh, those tricky little...' He paused. 'No. Would've been dead by now if they were after me... Just a power outage. Must investigate.' With that, the Question slid on his trench coat and fedora. Pulling out a small device, he applied his Pseudoderm mask to his face, before turning the device on and allowing the bonding gas to cement it to his face whilst simultaneously reacting with the chemicals he sprayed in his hair and clothes, changing their color.
"Let's see if there are any answers that can hide from..."
VICTOR 'VIC' SAGE ♦ MARCH 15TH, 1993 (24) ♦ MALE ♦ HEROIC
C O N C E P T A B S T R A C T:
"My face? Oh, I overdosed on acne cream." V I C S A G E
This incarnation of Vic Sage, the Question, is different from some of his earlier incarnations in quite a few ways. For starters, he's only just started his life as a masked vigilante, being only a month into his career which has mostly consisted of punching petty thieves and small time drug dealers. Some other differences arise: Vic did not grow up an orphan, and had two loving parents who recently passed away. He's also in his first few months as a news anchor for World Wide Broadcasting in Hub City, Illinois.
Currently, Vic's biggest bust in his career was taking down Dr. Arby Twain, who was planning on illegally selling Pseudoderm, a skinlike substance that can be used as a bandage, to third world countries. However, there was one catch: the bonding agent used to cement it to things was toxic to open wounds. Twain, however, knew the risks and was still willing to continue with the sale. Vic, utilizing a mask made of Pseudoderm, decided to create the vigilante alter ego of 'The Question' to take Twain down.
After leaving Twain trapped in Pseudoderm in front of the police station, Vic continued to use this new alter ego to combat crime. So far, he hasn't stumbled upon anything big, but he will! ... Soon.
* * *
C H A P T E R O N E
THE QUESTION IN
THE HUB CITY HAPPENING!
A cult has been terrorizing Hub City for some time now, taking teenaged girls from their homes and slaughtering them for a blood sacrifice, whereafter the horribly mangled bodies are returned to their beds the night after they go missing. The HCPD has lost hope in catching those involved, and the Question has tasked himself with tracking down and bringing this cult to justice before they can kill another innocent girl.
N O T E S:
As mentioned above, Vic is pretty green currently and not at all jaded. Vic has taken an interest in reading up on Buddhist philosophy as well as the way of Native American shamans. Vic has a strange fear of aglets, the plastic tips at the ends of shoelaces. For this reason, he exclusively wears loafers, velcro shoes, or cuts the aglets off of the shoelaces. Vic is not a skilled martial artist; his fighting style is mostly down and dirty brawling. Vic uses a mask made of Pseudoderm to hide all of his facial features. It is cemented to his face via the bonding agent, which takes the form of a gas released from a special canister in his belt; the agent was modified by Professor Rodor to also change his hair color from bright ginger red to pitch black. The mask can also be rolled up into a ball and stored in his belt buckle. Vic currently has one gadget: a grappling gun. Vic frequently uses the bonding agent to intimidate criminals, saying it will take away their faces to scare them into giving him what he wants. Thanks rocketrobie2 for helping me come up with the title for the Question's first chapter!
Professor Aristotle 'Tot' Rodor: 'Tot' is a friend of the Sages and Vic's professor in college. Due to having known him his whole life, Vic is close with Tot and views him as a grandfather figure. Tot was the person who designed Pseudoderm along with his colleague, Dr. Arby Twain. He also designed Vic's mask, giving it to him to stop Twain without having his identity revealed. Tot continues to help by providing first aid to Vic when he is injured, as well as designing new gadgets for Vic to use in his crusade.
More to come as Vic develops relationships with the rest of the cast.
Gonna throw my hat into the ring, LW. If anyone of you even knows me one bit (which, trust me, you don't, believe me this is my first time seeing you guys too), you'll be able to guess who this character is gonna be...
VICTOR 'VIC' SAGE ♦ MARCH 15TH, 1993 (24) ♦ MALE ♦ HEROIC
C O N C E P T A B S T R A C T:
"My face? Oh, I overdosed on acne cream." V I C S A G E
This incarnation of Vic Sage, the Question, is different from some of his earlier incarnations in quite a few ways. For starters, he's only just started his life as a masked vigilante, being only a month into his career which has mostly consisted of punching petty thieves and small time drug dealers. Some other differences arise: Vic did not grow up an orphan, and had two loving parents who recently passed away. He's also in his first few months as a news anchor for World Wide Broadcasting in Hub City, Illinois.
Currently, Vic's biggest bust in his career was taking down Dr. Arby Twain, who was planning on illegally selling Pseudoderm, a skinlike substance that can be used as a bandage, to third world countries. However, there was one catch: the bonding agent used to cement it to things was toxic to open wounds. Twain, however, knew the risks and was still willing to continue with the sale. Vic, utilizing a mask made of Pseudoderm, decided to create the vigilante alter ego of 'The Question' to take Twain down.
After leaving Twain trapped in Pseudoderm in front of the police station, Vic continued to use this new alter ego to combat crime. So far, he hasn't stumbled upon anything big, but he will! ... Soon.
* * *
C H A P T E R O N E
THE QUESTION IN
THE HUB CITY HAPPENING!
A cult has been terrorizing Hub City for some time now, taking teenaged girls from their homes and slaughtering them for a blood sacrifice, whereafter the horribly mangled bodies are returned to their beds the night after they go missing. The HCPD has lost hope in catching those involved, and the Question has tasked himself with tracking down and bringing this cult to justice before they can kill another innocent girl.
N O T E S:
As mentioned above, Vic is pretty green currently and not at all jaded. Vic has taken an interest in reading up on Buddhist philosophy as well as the way of Native American shamans. Vic has a strange fear of aglets, the plastic tips at the ends of shoelaces. For this reason, he exclusively wears loafers, velcro shoes, or cuts the aglets off of the shoelaces. Vic is not a skilled martial artist; his fighting style is mostly down and dirty brawling. Vic uses a mask made of Pseudoderm to hide all of his facial features. It is cemented to his face via the bonding agent, which takes the form of a gas released from a special canister in his belt; the agent was modified by Professor Rodor to also change his hair color from bright ginger red to pitch black. The mask can also be rolled up into a ball and stored in his belt buckle. Vic currently has one gadget: a grappling gun. Vic frequently uses the bonding agent to intimidate criminals, saying it will take away their faces to scare them into giving him what he wants. Thanks rocketrobie2 for helping me come up with the title for the Question's first chapter!
Professor Aristotle 'Tot' Rodor: 'Tot' is a friend of the Sages and Vic's professor in college. Due to having known him his whole life, Vic is close with Tot and views him as a grandfather figure. Tot was the person who designed Pseudoderm along with his colleague, Dr. Arby Twain. He also designed Vic's mask, giving it to him to stop Twain without having his identity revealed. Tot continues to help by providing first aid to Vic when he is injured, as well as designing new gadgets for Vic to use in his crusade.
More to come as Vic develops relationships with the rest of the cast.
July 8th, 9:36 PM Warehouse District; Hub City, Illinois &
"Breathe in slowly, feel the breath fill your lungs and the energy fill your body. Feel it move from your nose to the center of your chest, then spread slowly out until it suffuses even your fingertips and your toes. Then, breathe out slowly feeling the rhythm of your breathing, the slowing beat of your heart and the release of energy back out into the world. Feel the connection, beyond your body, ebbing and flowing with each breath. In, out. Let distractions fade away until there's nothing but your breath, your heartbeat, and the slow pulse of the world."
Bruce liked to end training sessions with a cooldown meditation of sorts. It was one of the first steps of cultivating good awareness and flow of chi and done properly it de-escalated a lot of the intensity that came with sparring and physical training. He could tell his current student was less than focused, but he just waited for the source of the inevitable interruption to make itself known.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
'I am one with the world. The birds chirping, the water flowing, the warm summer breeze, the people walking in the street, the pushers hiding in the alley, the junkies shooting up, the murderous scum slitting throats...' Oscar's face scrunched up as his thoughts continued to drift, though he kept his eyes closed, attempting to calm himself.
Inhale.
Ex-
BANG!
His eyes shot open.
"A gunshot! I've got to get my mask on, get to the scene ASAP, I-'" He was already standing and looking around when his thoughts came to a sudden halt, finally seeing the pipe that had fallen onto the concrete ground.
"... Shit." He muttered, turning towards his sensei. "Sorry. I shouldn't have worried about it."
Bruce couldn't help chuckling at the Question's overzealous reaction. "No problem, in fact it was enlightening. We've been training every night for around three months. I think it's time you got out into the field again and put what I've been teaching you to the test. The point of learning all this is to use it, after all."
Bruce's mouth quirked as he nudged the fallen pipe with his foot. "Besides, another few days of this and you'll be fighting the plumbing instead."
Oscar chuckled, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, it's kinda hard not going out every night and punching the crap out of criminals." He joked.
"Well in that case, we better find the right criminals to punch."
July 11th, 8:43 PM Hell's Corner, Hub City; Illinois
"Come on babydoll, I know you want it." The man whispered into the woman's ear, presumably in a tone he thought was appealing but really made him sound constipated. In response, the woman pushed him firmly, beginning to walk away. He grabbed her, before pulling out a pistol and pressing it under her chin. "Scream and you get it, bitch." The rapist growled.
"Let me ask you a question."
The man turned, woman still pressed against the wall and pointing the gun in the direction of the voice. "Who the hell said that?!" He yelled, before firing off a few rounds. Nothing was hit, and the light of the muzzle flash didn't reveal any silhouettes. "Now. What does it mean to live a good life?" This time, the voice was behind him. He turned, but nothing was there.
"S-shut the fuck up! I'll fucking kill you!" To prove his point, he fired off another round. Nothing.
"See, in your world, a good life means drugs, booze, women. But that's not how everyone answers the question." The voice was... Right on top of him. He looked up, certain he'd catch the guy now, and found himself looking up at a trenchcoated man... With no face! "What the fuck!?"
Before he could aim his gun up to cap the fucker, he found himself pinned to the ground, gun several feet away and head being repeatedly slammed into the concrete. The pain made him fall into blissful unconsciousness.
The faceless man rose from the would-be rapist, and the woman stared at him in shock, mouth agape and eyes wide. "In my world, a good life means seeing scum like you locked up for a long time." The trenchcoated man said, before pulling out a ziptie and tying the man up. He dropped a card onto his unconscious form, a plain white one with a black question mark on it. He then turned to leave.
"Who are you?" The woman said, her voice a faint whisper. The man stopped, and turned.
(Sorry for the lack of response, been busy IRL and with other RPs. I know this is a short post that doesn't make up for my lack of posting, but I'll try to be more active from now on.)
Ace, having stayed on the ship and being mostly silent for the entire time, received a comm from Kira. She told him this was his last chance to confirm if he was coming with them or staying on the ship to help co-pilot. "Gonna stay on the ship, ma'am. I feel that helping pilot is more suited to my skillset." He replied.
11:32 PM, March 27th The Wedge; Hub City, Illinois
'Question's journal, March 27th 2020; Entry #4 The city. It screams for deliverance from its pain. Salvation I cannot provide. I am just man. These metas, GODS, can. Without them, Hub would still be in chaos. Its screams would shatter my ear drums. Now, they are faint whispers. Near silent, but there.
The GODS may take care of the larger problems. But the residual mess left over? I shall handle.'
A yelp for help nearby. He answers it. The man wields a switchblade. His arm shakes. First robbery. His arm snaps as easily as a wet cookie crumbles. Tears and snot stream down his face as he cries for his mother. Pathetic. "No one can save you now."
The woman runs, screaming louder. He makes his leave.
He hasn't slept for five days. Hasn't gone to work for two. Too busy patrolling. His clothing is stained from garbage, blood (most of it not his), and sweat. The only thing keeping him running are the sugar cubes in his pocket, of which there are now just four.
Roll up mask. Unwrap cube. Put in mouth. Chew. Pull mask down. Drop wrapping. Three left.
He continues his crusade.
---
Bruce had been watching the faceless man work for some time now, noting his rough technique as he broke the arm of what was surely the latest in a long line of desperate criminals. A rough technique, yes that seemed to sum up the man nicely.
The Question didn't seem to notice even as Bruce stalked him from nearby, whether from a rooftop or a shadowed corner. Truthfully, Bruce's skills with ninjutsu likely deserved less credit than the simple matter of the vigilante's exhaustion. He was driving himself past human limits, lost in his work and likely to slip.
That sheer resolve was part of what had brought the Question to Bruce's attention, but it might also destroy the man before he had time to realize his potential.
Well, it was time to find out which would come first.
Bruce stepped out of hiding just as The Question finished beating some poor fool into submission, studying his body language to try and gauge him for reactions without being able to see his face.
"So, this is what passes for a hero in Hub City these days? I'm not exactly disappointed but you've got a lot to learn."
---
Gang member. Can tell by the way he walks, the necktie around his ankle ('Fashion statements are weird'), and of course the sagging pants containing a Glock. It was easy enough to drop from his perch on the fire escape and land on him, before beating him to a bloody pulp.
He was just about to leave, after another sugar cube of course, when a man stepped out of the shadows and spoke. The Question tensed as the man spoke of how he wasn't disappointed and that the vigilante had a 'lot to learn'.
He gave the man a once over, also searching the surroundings for any weapons ('The gun, the trashcan lid, the pipe.'). He responded tersely, "Not hero. Just man trying to do good. Want hero, look for Arcana, our resident God."
Bruce arched an eyebrow at both the quickness of the physical response and the humility of the verbal one. This was going to be interesting.
"The world needs heroes among men as well as Gods. A man trying to do good seems like a good place to start. All the old heroes started that way, you know."
"A problem that the Actor Activists had: one of their own wasn't happy being a man. He desired to be a God. That's why they were outlawed in the first place, hm?"
Bruce's mouth twisted like he tasted something bitter for a moment, then smoothed over again. "That hasn't stopped you from doing what's right, and it won't stop others from doing the same. You see wrongness in the world and you try to correct it, because you can't sit by while the world spins wildly out of balance. I'm interested in helping you to do that without killing yourself in the process."
"Truly, we've forgetten everything that makes us more than house pets. We've devolved into fighting and killing one another, both in the streets and on battlefields. There is no reason, no truth, no justice in this world." Question pauses, fumbling to take out another sugar cube. As he chews on it, he feels like he can continue on once more. "... So you'll help me? How, exactly?"
"I can give you training, skills that put you above the common thug on the street in a fight and let you do more before you have to resort to keeping yourself standing with sugar and grit. I've seen you fight and you're not bad. But you can be much more. I can make your body a weapon for your mind to wield as you see fit. With enough work, I can teach you to walk through a crowd howling for your blood without taking a scratch or stand equal with some of the most dangerous killers on the planet. I can also offer you some perspective, if you need it. Of course, how much you actually learn depends on you."
The offer was tempting. Though the man used some rather interesting words for it, Question understood the core: 'I'll teach you to fight'. He didn't know what the man was talking about with perspective, but still. Maybe the perspective was understanding what he was talking about when he said perspective?
... Damn he needed to sleep. But first, this. "... I accept your offer." As his hand fumbled for his pocket and the sugary treats inside, his vision darkened, and finally he fell into unconsciousness. 'Damn... My... Insomnia.'
Here's my fourth character, a Captain Atom analogue. He won't be intro'd till Year 2, but still, I'm putting him here anyway.
Powerhouse Ultra Tier
"Fret not civilian, for I, Captain Quantum, am here to aid you!" -------------------Basic Information------------------- Superhero Name: Captain Quantum Civilian Name: Captain Frederick Allen Nathaniel Curie III Origin City/Planet: Frankfort, Kentucky; Earth Hometown: Metropolis, Delaware; Earth Sex: N/A (appears to be and identifies as male); formerly male Race: Quantum Field Conduit; formerly Human (Caucasian) Height: 6'1 (pre-incident); 6'5 (in Dilustel Shell) Weight: 168 pounds (pre-incident); 350 pounds (in Dilustel Shell) Age: Ageless (appears to be around 35); formerly 35 Birth Date: October 23rd, 1985 Costumed Appearance: After the 'incident', Fredrick was turned into a being of pure quantum energy, only able to keep himself together by using all of his concentration. In order for him to survive, a specialized suit or 'shell' was created, with a built in device that allows him to take on his appearance before the 'incident' while he uses the shell's true form during missions. When using the shell's true form, his 'skin' is red on most of his body, but his hands and feet are blue, appearing to be gloves and boots to the untrained eye. His hair is still neatly combed to the side, his eyes are a glowing light red that brim with energy, and he lacks any private parts, his anatomy similar to that of a Ken doll. Picture for reference. Civilian Appearance: Before the 'incident', Fredrick was a tall and lean man with chestnut brown hair, bright blue eyes, fair skin, and faint freckles on his nose. He was a rather well put together man, most often wearing a suit and keeping his hair neatly combed to the side. His lips were almost always in a straight line, never twitching into so much as a smirk. Picture for reference. Icon:A stylized atom, in blue on his chest. Costumed Personality: Due to needing to keep up good public relations, Captain Quantum puts on the front of being an upstanding, optimistic and all American boy scout; the textbook definition of a superhero. He is kind to any and all civilians (even those that are rude to him), and always requests that his enemies stand down before a fight (after all, he doesn't want to hurt them). In short, he's all about preserving the American lifestyle in the most family friendly way possible. Civilian Personality: However, when he has time to himself, Fredrick is introverted and contemplative. When interacting with people, Fredrick is polite and reserved, being more of a listener than he is a talker, but always chiming in when he feels the need. Though not bitter about his new form, he often finds himself pondering it, and also wonders how and why he survived the 'incident'. Simply put, Fredrick is a kind and mellow person who reflects upon himself and his life frequently.
-------------------Abilities-------------------
-Skills: Fredrick is trained in the use of firearms, advanced hand-to-hand combat, and various other military skills. However, due to his new abilities, these are rendered moot.
-Flight: Pretty straightforward. Fredrick can fly. -Teleportation: Also straightforward. Fredrick can teleport to places within his line of sight, or anywhere he is familiar with. -Molecular Reconstruction: Using nothing but the power of his mind, Fredrick can take apart and rearrange, obliterate, and even recreate things that are within his line of sight. However, there is a chance it will backfire, resulting in the thing spontaneously combusting. -Energy Manipulation: Fredrick can use his stored up energy as projectile weapons, a la the hadoken or the kamehameha, by firing them from any part of his body (though he mostly uses his hands for accurate shots). -Energy Absorption: Any energy that makes contact with Fredrick will be absorbed by him, making him more powerful. -Immortality: Fredrick is ageless, and does not need to eat, drink, or sleep to survive. It is nearly impossible to destroy him, essentially making him impossible to kill as well. -Dilustel Shell: Fredrick uses a specialized suit to survive, which is known as the 'Dilustel Shell'. It is nigh-indestructible, though it can be damaged. If it cracks, then Fredrick will need to return to concentrating on keeping himself from fading away once more.
-Gadgets: N/A -Weapons: N/A -Weakness: Due to being made of pure energy, Fredrick needs the Dilustel Shell to survive. Without it, he would be required to focus on keeping his body in a stable condition at all times, lest he scatter and fade out of existence. Crack or even destroy the shell, and Fredrick would be fucked until a new one could be made. Also, without the suit he is prone to 'flair-ups', discharges of energy which disintegrate anything within a 100 meter radius. In addition, if anyone were to touch him whilst he was outside of the suit or vice versa, the person would also disintegrate. Civilian Occupation: Officer of the United States Military and Government sanctioned hero.
-------------------Biography-------------------
Character History/Origin: Fredrick Allen Nathaniel Curie III was born on October 23rd, 1985 to a soldier and his wife. He was named after his father and grandfather, and belonged to a long line of soldiers; his father had fought in Russia, his grandfather had fought in Vietnam, his great grandfather had fought in World War II, and so on. It was expected that Fredrick would carry on the tradition, and he didn't disappoint.
At the age of 18, Fredrick enlisted in the army, shipping out to Bangladesh upon completing training in 2003. Towards the end of his first tour of duty, Fredrick was injured whilst carrying two wounded comrades to cover, still getting them to safety and tending to their wounds with what little he could use. For this, he was awarded with the Distinguished Service Cross, in addition to being promoted to Sergeant.
During his second tour of duty, Fredrick was awarded with the Medal of Honor after running towards a suicide bomber, grabbing him, and pushing him away before the bomb could detonate, without any casualties. He finished his second tour of duty in 2009, and continued to work with the military, being at the rank of Captain in 2020.
With the arrival of Lady Arcana and other powered individuals, the military felt the need to create their own supersoldier in the case that any of them decide to fly down, tear off the roof of the white house, and grab the president from the oval office. Fredrick volunteered to undergo the procedure, willing to do whatever it took to defend his country. On April 7th, 2021, he underwent the procedure.
Absolute clown. Dark and gritty superhero fan fiction guaranteed or your money back.
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<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Absolute clown. Dark and gritty superhero fan fiction guaranteed or your money back.<br><br><div class="bb-center"><img src="https://i.ibb.co/dwHX9x5Z/q.gif" /><br><img src="https://media1.tenor.com/m/OO9sfTEs5eEAAAAd/marvel-rivals-moon-knight.gif" /><br><img src="https://media.tenor.com/k77Wq4b6rLMAAAAM/asian-guy.gif" /><br><img src="https://c.tenor.com/Y3LcKGaK7fsAAAAd/tenor.gif" /></div></div>
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