Courtaud

Sentai/Voltron Style Story

Oh sure sure I’d just as willing pop this bad boy in casual as well!

Sentai/Voltron Style Story

Hey hey

I've been putting together a few ideas related to a Super Sentai/Voltron style story. I've got a few of the major plot beats put together but thought I'd see and gauge if there would be any interest beforehand.

The game itself would take place on modern day earth or maybe a somewhat future style earth, where a seismic event leads a small group of young adults to be chosen as Sentai, complete with color association and some other plot beats to tie it all together. A mentor figure would task them with protecting yadda yadda yadda.

Story would probably take us to some far out places.

If I'd only really need a small group at first, as I think it may be more interesting to pick up/recruit rangers/sentai in the future after spending time developing the first few people who had joined the game.

I'm a pretty hands-on GM, and my playstyle would be to consistently set up you guys with things to interact with, even if outside of the game. For example, In previous games I've private messaged a player to let them know a secret that only their character knew, with which the player can do with what they want.

Let me know if you guys would be down, and if so, what kind of stuff would interest you in this sort of story?

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Era of Anarchy

I like the idea of a Gundam roleplay, and would join. I'm a little worried about the size of this game. If we are all in such separate locations, how much interacting would we be doing?

Project Rival

Would each of these rivals exist in their own story? Like would Sanity's Virgil be able to interact with Terry's Ken/Sagat? Or are these separate worlds?

Power Rangers: Grid In Chaos

I'm in then!

Power Rangers: Grid In Chaos

I'm tentatively interested. I'm a little confused if there are going to be Wizard of Oz story beats or that's just how you wrote this interest check.

And Yokozuna vs Luger is a WILD pull for a count-out victory, jesus.

MARVELS: Streets of New York

Punisher War Journal

No contact yet with Eddie Brock, AKA: Venom. I've been going over as much of his history that Micro had been able to scrounge up over the passed few weeks. Nothing much to this guy. Pretty much a nobody for most of his life up until he gets ousted as a faker at The Daily Bugle. Must have been embarrassing to get shit-canned from such a trash read. I've heard J. Jonah Jameson on news interviews - a loud blowhard with no real journalistic integrity. Only after ratings and money - another capitalist pig in this concrete hell of a city. Edward Brock then gets infected with black symbiote, a living organism capable of creating organic webbing not unlike Spider-Man himself, and enhancing Brock's strength to superhuman levels. Goood guy, bad guy, the whack-o can't seem to make up his mind. Venom had gone on something of a killing spree in the past, and has since been called a "lethal protector."

Another embarrassing nickname. Someone called me that once. Once. I'm not a protector. I'm a cleaner. These people don't get that.

Finding Brock has to take a backseat to some of the other goings on around the burroughs. Sinister is still out flooding the streets, and the people peddling it aren't just criminals out there trying to survive, but upper class. The science behind the mask and the patent from Treece - that screams something bigger. Something that would require a higher caliber bullet. I can feel an itch at my back just desperate for scratching. There are a few ways I can move next. Micro had a few ideas on places to hit hard, but I had some other ideas. Bigger picture stuff.

Next moves are open, but I've got an important stop to make. One I'm not exactly looking forward to. In fact, the idea of it almost makes me sick, if it didn't feel absolutely necessary for what I'm trying to make happen.

----

Frank was in his civilians, black clothes to be sure, but he just looked like any other asshole on the street. Or a bouncer. Or a lineman. Hard to say. The hardlines in his face certainly didn't scream "friendly guy." People avoided him as he walked along the Harlem sidewalks, whether or not they were consciously aware of it wasn't something Frank cared about. At a bodega he stopped briefly and ordered a chopped cheese with a soft drink. Delicious, even if this kind of food was for old men and fools. Still, the trek over here had been long, and when he could, Frank likes to sit in a park and...sulk? Stare? Meditate? The one big memory Frank has of being in a park ended in a bloodbath that wiped out his family. Why does he do it then? To relive it? To torture himself?

He sits, and birds chirp around him. Kids on scooters, roller-skates, couples holding hands. Dogs barking excitedly on their long walks. To Castle, this was what it was all about. This kind of peace is what he kills for. This is the kind of peaceful day at the park his family should have had.

He moves on after only a few minutes.

He had a gym bag slung over one of his broad shoulders. He adjusted it as he walked up the stone steps to his destination. A somewhat rundown looking office building. Entering through the front door, he approached a young woman working at the reception desk, someone who immediately recognized him (due to her line of work.)

Castle looked up at the giant framed photo of Powerman and Iron Fist, placing his bag on the desk in front of him and the incredulous woman.

"Hello. I have some heroes to hire."

MARVELS: Streets of New York

Clint Barton or Daredevil for sure!

I just play an archer in another superhero roleplaying game here so that's enough of the arrows.

MARVELS: Streets of New York

Punisher War Journal

Back at safehouse 003. Micro is already coming up with some news related to Sinister. When he took a look at the looped mask I had taken off of those dead punks, he looked a little squeamish. Not quite enough to stop sucking down whatever was in that to-go soda. "Fantastic Size" blazoned across it in big bold blue letters. The stupid extra long straw ended up in a looping thumbs-up. Micro looked like a giant oversized toddler drinking it down like that. Funny, all these superheroes out there saving the world, trying to make it a better place. They sure fit well into the capitalism of the red white and blue. Near his computer desk was what was left of Micro's late night dinner: Flame On Fries. Smothered in some kind of red sauce.

Johnny Storm was a punk. A loud-mouth with no sense of the world, thinking without much of a brain on him. I once put him out after he accosted me from taking care of business after some wise guy had it in him to stick up Marty's Deli. Torch didn't like how I opted to paint the sidewalk. Too close to the Baxter Building, probably. Johnny tried his hot head routine and didn't realize that Marty kept a fire extinguisher hung up by the front door. One shot and Storm collapsed in this mess of white filth. Only reason I didn't think to put him down for longer was I could hear Ben Grimm running from up the block. Hard to miss those footfalls, like every step was a landmine. Put me right back in the shit.

I'm back thinking of the old killing fields, faces I try to forget at night, that I miss Micro saying something and have to have him repeat it. He tells me the Sinister Mask has a particular piece of equipment by the nozzle. In an instant he's typing something into his giant monitors and boots up what looks like schematics: digital blueprints. He goes on and on about some jargon, and about the smell of the mask alone is getting him woozy like paint fumes with closed windows. He keeps going.

His computer screens are beeping and whirring, the technology beyond most of my grasp. Unless it shoots, maims, kills, blinds - it's not too useful in my hands. But Micro is an artist with this. He points to a piece of the mask and then at the screen. Says the nozzle piece on this mask is actually a patent. The type of latch it takes isn't found in many other pieces of equipment due to it. It's not Stark, Rand, Hammer. Nothing in heavy weaponry. When I ask he clarifies, it's not exactly weaponry at all.

The screen zooms out from the nozzle latch schematics into a larger piece of equipment - almost like a scuba suit, or someone in a hazmat suit. Full body covering. And almost as thick as the Juggernaut.

Micro says it's from a Digger Suit. He pulls up a variety of files that flash on the screen. Demo tests, product video, camera feeds from security lines. Apparently, Digger Suits are one of the bigger pieces of the equipment line utilized by some place called "Treece International." The screen blinks around to show me the face of it's founder, Roland Treece. Looks like this guy has a variety of connections. Sizing him up, I decide his jaw looks weakest. Micro is still talking, and I can see he is smiling.

Instead of repeating himself, he pulls up another video feed. Someone I've been interested in for some time, apparently someone who came across one of these Suits in a non-ecological situation.

On the monitor, which is a point of view camera from the Digger Suit's pilot, a flash of sharp white teeth. Screams and shrills as the suit is crushed with the man still in it. The feed cuts out before long - leaving the man's fate unknown. The monster that destroyed such a sophisticated piece of machine was terrifying and fast, brutal and violent. Not unlike me. Except I can't swing from rooftop to rooftop like Spider-Man. And I've never bitten the head clean off a man.

Venom...

But some dots are starting to connect.

Now I have an in.

MARVELS: Streets of New York

I must say the new rivals reveal is making me wish I'd floated the idea of playing a still-under-the-thumb-of-kingpin Emma Frost I had as a concept before thinking it might not be street level enough.

Not that I'm not set on Gwen but such is the curse of the ADHD writer.

@Ezekiel

Sounds like we need a GM for a Rivals RP