Captain Uni

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My next post will finish up Cry of the Banshee, I swear.

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A N E N I G M A T I C M I N D

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^{Time Means Nothing not here, XXXX - XX:XX XX | The Inner Workings | You Needn't Know Where}

^{did you} _really ^think _that ^{you could} <sub>make a difference charles victor szasz

you are nothing but a toddler throwing a tantrum lashing out at the world for being what it is

you are not a hero

you are just a psychopath looking to vent his violent tendencies

you cannot</sub> ^{help anyone}

_{you need to wake up} ^charlie

WAKE UP

H U B C I T Y / A M E R I C A

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^{July 6th, 2008 - 3:17 AM | Hub City First National Bank | The Wedge}

The blaring of police sirens pulled the Question into consciousness.

Slowly, he pulled himself up from the ruins of the copy machine and blinking the blood out of his eyes. From the hallway, he heard footsteps fast approaching. He was in no condition to fight the cops. He had to get the hell out of dodge, as soon as possible.

Half limping, half running, he made his way through the bank, narrowly avoiding police officers as he did so. His vision was turning red, blood dripping from a gash in his forehead into his eyes once more. He would need to take the mask off and bandage the wound, as soon as possible.

Before long, he was opening the roof access door. He'd need to make a leap of faith to the next building. Looking down at his bad leg, the vigilante took in a deep breath, readying himself for a quick sprint.

"On your marks," Question said, a wry smirk hidden behind his mask.

He ran.

He lept.

His gloved fingers grabbed onto the ledge, and he pulled himself up. Relief flooding through him, he laid down on the roof for a well deserved rest.

Between rushed breaths, he released relieved chuckles. "I should go for the world record for the long jump..."

H U B C I T Y / A M E R I C A

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^{July 6th, 2008 - 5:04 AM | Arisotle Rodor's Home | Downtown}

"You're an idiot, Charlie."

Those were the first words out of Tot's mouth when Vic entered his home, and he had been repeating them every other minute for the last half hour.

"That's the sixteenth time you've said that today," Vic replied, wincing slightly as Tot finished stitching up the wound in his forehead.

"And I will continue to say it until the day I die," Tot replied, heading over to his kitchen sink to wash the blood off his hands. "You could have been killed."

"Maybe I could've. At least it would've been in the line of duty."

"You need to forget about this 'Banshee' fellow, Charlie. The police can handle him."

"Tot, you saw what he did with just one punch," Vic pointed at the stitching on this forehead. "They can't handle a meta. But I can."

Tot released a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"No," Vic said, throwing on his overcoat and hat as he approached the door. Pulling down the brim of his hat, he continued, "I'm gonna catch a supervillain reject."

H U B C I T Y / A M E R I C A

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^{July 13th, 2008 - 10:46 PM | Happy Harry's | Hell's Corner}

It had been a week. Question wanted to go after the Banshee, but figured that by the time he went to any of his targets the villain would be long gone. Instead, he waited, and watched, letting the Banshee make himself known to the people of Hub City. He waited until he was sure the Banshee had, at the very least, made some connections in the underworld.

And then he struck.

Happy Harry's was a dive bar in the least desirable part of an already undesirable city. Every time the Question walked in, he was hit by the stench of alcohol and cigarettes, of broken dreams and wasted potential. It made him sick, but it was the best place to get information when he needed it.

As he walked into the bar, everything went silent.

The bartender, Harry, stared at the faceless man with wide eyes and a fearful expression on his face.

"Hey Harry. How's it hanging?"

"Er, uh, hey Question," Harry replied, yanking on his collar and putting on a forced grin. "What a surprise for you to drop by... It's always... A..." Harry couldn't help it anymore. He pleaded to the vigilante, "Please man, don't hurt anybody, they don't know anything..."

"I just need information, Harry." Question turned to the patrons, announcing, "The Banshee. I'm looking for him. If anyone knows anything, tell me."

His request was met with silence.

"... Nothing, huh? Alright. You." Question pointed at a man, whose eyes widened in fear at the vigilante's gesture.

"M-me?"

"Yeah, you." Question approached the man, grabbing his hand. "Let's play a game. For every wrong answer, I break a finger."

To demonstrate, he grabbed the man's pinkie finger, bending it backwards. With a sickening CRA-CRACK! the finger broke. The man cried in agony, struggling to free his hand from the Question's grasp.

"I've broken this man's pinkie finger. Where can I find the Banshee?"

Silence.

CRACK!

"His ring finger.Where can I find the Banshee?"

"Jesus man, stop, we don't know anyth-"

CRACK!

"Middle finger. That's half the fingers of his left hand. Where can I find the Banshee?"

"F-fuck! Just somebody, anybody, tell him what you know!"

"Alright, just... Shit... Just stop hurting the guy." A patron approached the Question, who dropped the man's hand. "Look, I've been working with him for the last couple of days, selling all the goods he gets from his jobs. We meet at this warehouse of his, by the docks. Far as I can tell, that's his base."

"Hrm. Thanks for the assistance." With those words, the Question left the bar with a determined stride.

'I'm gonna find that son of a bitch, and when I do, he'll be sorry he crossed me...'

To Be Concluded

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The salt mines experienced the biggest boom in history... Then dried up.

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@AngelofOctober

Again... Superboy Prime isn't in this game. Y'know, evil AU Superman?

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<Snipped quote by Simple Unicycle>

Mainly because people have been rude up to this point and I am not some power gamer which is the assumption. I'd gladly left if people hadn't been rude about it.

@AngelofOctober

Actually, no one was rude until you decided to be a dick in response to a friendly suggestion to help you get into the RP. That was when we started being rude.

@AngelofOctober
Might I advise removing some of his powers? It does seem like there’s quite a lot of powers there. Magic and the strong wolf form? I mean one of Jose could easily go towards your guy being a protector type. The werewolf might work a bit better solo. Then you could go for the whol Protector thing but still have the cursed thing. Just my two cents as an outsider.

@Avanhelsing

Tell me, what about that screams "YOU'RE A POWER GAMER AND YOU SHOULD FEEL BAD"? Hell, when the majority of your sheet is just the fucking powers, did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, you should tune it the fuck down?

In all honesty, I don't even care about this shit, I'm just bored and need something to laugh at. Thanks for the lulz.

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Yep and this is where I take my leave.

@AngelofOctober

*two hours later*

*continues to talk about the RP BUT HE'S TOTALLY NOT INTERESTED YOU GUIZ*

@AngelofOctober

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At this rate, I'm gonna burn through all of Question's arcs in a matter of two days, haha.

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H U B C I T Y / A M E R I C A

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^{July 6th, 2008 - 2:39 AM | Rooftops | The Wedge}

The thing about Hub, the masked vigilante mulled over, was that it was more grounded than Metropolis or Gotham. Nobody pranced around in tights fighting crime, the criminals didn't wear over the top costumes and call themselves silly names like 'Lord Death Man', and those that did were promptly locked up in an insane asylum. Crime was crime at its most visceral, and the closest the city had to a superhero was himself, the Question, who just wore a mask and dressed in civvies.

So imagine Question's surprise upon seeing a man flying through the night, green cape flowing behind him. It made him feel a bit territorial, some meta trying to encroach on his turf. He felt like punching the guy out, though with his luck he had a power that made people turn to dust when they touched him. So instead, Q did what he did best: stalked the guy from the ground as he flew around.

He didn't have to follow long before the man came to a stop on the roof of Hub City First National Bank. Strange for an aspiring superhero to stop at a bank. Even stranger to start picking the lock on the roof access door. Whatever hope the Question had that this was just some rookie trying to follow in his footsteps were thoroughly dashed, and he realized that this guy wasn't an aspiring superhero; he was an aspiring supervillain.

Great, now he had some guy in a goofy get-up to handle. He hoped this wouldn't become some sort of trend. After all, the last thing he needed was a rogues gallery.

Anyhow, back to the present. The man had finished picking the lock to the roof access door, slipping into the building. Question was across the street, and by the time he reached the bank's roof the guy would probably be long gone with the money. So he did the logical thing and headed to the ground, approaching the bank's glass doors.

"Hrm..." Question examined the lock doors, humming slightly to himself. He had forgotten to bring along his lockpicks, so picking the lock was out of the question. What else could he do? Slowly, he scanned his surroundings, looking for something to...

Bingo.

Hefting the potted ficus, he approached the door, throwing the plant into the glass and shattering it. The alarm began to blare as he stepped inside, maneuvering himself deftly to avoid cutting himself on jagged glass. The bank was closed by this time of night, and it wouldn't hard to spot the other guy inside, considering he was wearing a green cape.

... That is, he thought it would be easy to find the guy. Seems he was better at stealth than Question had first thought. He had checked and rechecked every room at least three or four times, and still nothing turned up. Question was about to give up hope, when he heard a cackling behind him.

"Fool," the voice bellowed, "you dare challenge THE BANSHEE!?" Question turned around, and lo and behold, it was the caped guy.

"Look, Mr... Banshee, was it? Let's just cut the foreplay and get down to brass tacks: I punch you, you fall over, I turn you over to the police and maybe say something enigmatic along the way. That sound good?" He really wasn't in the mood for this.

"Nonsense!" the Banshee exclaimed, "Now we must fight to the DEATH!"

"Seriously, I was planning on turning in early tonight, what say we just raincheck this 'fight to the death' thing."

"ONE DOES NOT RAINCHECK THE BANSHEE! EN GARDE!" The Banshee took a fighting stance, slowly approaching the Question.

Question stared for a moment... Before doubling over in laughter.

What could be seen of the Banshee's face from his mask drooped, as if in fear. "... Why... Why are you laughing?"

"Jesus... You're... You're just... Oh my God, seriously? En garde? HAHAHAHAHA!"

"S-stop..." Banshee pleaded.

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

"I... Said..." The caped villain approached the Question, delivering a sucker punch to his faceless visage that sent the detective flying into a copy machine. "STOP."

"What... What the hell?" Wait, this guy dressing up in a silly outfit and snaeking into banks had super strength?

"I shall let you live, worm. But only this once. The next time we meet, shall be the last."

As the Banshee stalked away, Question felt the blood pooling up behind his mask. Closing his eyes, he released a shuddering sigh before falling into unconsciousness...

To Be Continued

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Lmao, fuck, you guys have no chill.

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H U B C I T Y / A M E R I C A

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^{May 19th, 2016 - 1:49 PM | Cain Street - Downtown Hub City}

It had been many years since he had been to Hub City, and it had changed so very much. Far less crime (though still its fair share), people not looking constantly miserable, and even a legitimate costumed superhero protecting it. Yes, it had been so long that many people forgot that once there was fear of societal collapse. So long that many people forgot there was pain...

Let alone a Question.

As Victor Sage, once the city's watcher and protector, walked through the streets of the Hub, he noticed these things. They seemed ignorant of the misery that clung to the metropolis and filled their nostrils with its stench only a little under half a decade ago. Fair, they had their share of pain, they deserved a break and a chance to forget; but it was strange that nothing alluded to that pain. Gone was the grim and grimy architecture that was pulled out of an art deco nightmare, replaced by sleek skyscrapers.

But as he walked through a subway, on his way to World Wide Broadcasting to try and get his job back, he saw it. A piece of graffiti that no one else paid any mind to. But it caught his eye and kept his attention for more than a few minutes. Such an abstract piece, and a confusing one if you hadn't lived in Hub not too long ago...

Don't Answer The Question...

And seeing the piece, it brought him back, back to a time when Hub was wrought with pain and he tried to tackle it head on at ground level. Back to when he misspent his time in his prime prancing around in a silly mask, oblivious to what fate had in store for him... A time he wanted to go back to.

H U B C I T Y / A M E R I C A

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^{February 23rd, 2008 - 10:02 PM | Back Alleyway - Hell's Corner}

"Honey, you keep holdin' out on me, and I'm gonna have to get really nasty..."

Question liked to think that it wasn't every day in Hub City that an attempted rape happened, but that's wishful thinking.

Only about ten feet below him, a rather unsavory looking man was holding a blonde against a wall, one arm keeping her pinned while the other held a knife that was currently pressed against the woman's neck. It was kind of generic and silly, foiling a rape, but it was better than handling another mugging. Those got boring after the first three- imagine having to deal with at least two dozen a week.

But still, he needed a good warmup for the night ahead. Dropping from his perch on the lowest level of a fire escape, the masked vigilante strode forward fearlessly, cracking his knuckles. The would-be rapist looked over his shoulder at the would-be hero, and Question felt almost euphoric upon seeing the fear light up in his eyes. Seeing the hero made the criminal loosen his grip on the blonde's arm, and the girl took the chance to shake off his grip and run.

"Hm. For a second I was thinking, 'you know what, this guy could get a girl if he tried, I don't know why he's doing this', but now that I can see your face up close I realize just how wrong I was," the Question noted, slight smirk hidden behind a faceless facade, "I think a pavement facial might fix it."

The man stood his ground, brandishing his knife around. "C'mon bitch, let's go."

"Whatever you say..." In the blink of an eye, the faceless man rushed the criminal and tackled him to the floor. Climbing on top of the downed man, the Question slammed his fists into his head one, two, three times in a matter of two seconds. "This is why!" A punch that'll leave a nice, shiny black eye. "You don't try to!" A punch that breaks his nose. "Commit a crime!" A punch that breaks his jaw. "In my city!"

With the last punch, Question managed to knock the man out. Standing up, he stared at the blood on his gloved knuckles, before delivering one last punch straight to the man's family jewels. Yeah, he'd be feeling that when he woke up... More like 'if' at this point.

Leaving behind his calling card, a blank white business card with a question mark on it, the Question shoved his hands into his pockets and stalked off into the night.

G O T H A M C I T Y / A M E R I C A

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^{April 2nd, 2008 - 12:21 AM | Docks - Gotham Bay}

Bullets flying past him. Metal pipes narrowly missing their mark. Stopping an attempt to tackle him with sucker punch.

Gotham might not have been as bad as Hub City in terms of crime, but it still had some amusements to be found.

WWB had sent him here, at his request, in order to cover the grand opening of an art museum in the city. When you were one of the station's best money makers, they didn't ask questions when you requested to cover a story. Lucky for him, no one suspected why he really came here: there was a high profile drug deal coming through here, something from Afghanistan that was, supposedly, pretty damn gnarly. If it spread to the States, who knew what damage it could cause.

So, like any moral, upstanding citizen, Vic Sage decided to handle this problem the only way he knew: beating the shit out of the guys trying to import it.

Which was how he found himself here, in a midst of bullets flying and fists swinging. Not too far from him was the Batman, Gotham's own resident vigilante, who had swooped in not long after the fighting started. Vic was amazed at how fast he moved, how effortlessly he dispatched enemies either with a well-placed punch or utilizing a gadget from his seemingly endlessly useful utility belt.

Before long, the fight was finished.

"Thanks for the assist," Question says, approaching the Dark Knight with hands in pockets, "Not that I needed it. Not with this bunch of pussies."

He turned away to drop his calling card, and when he looked back the cowled crusader was gone...

To Be Continued