Eddie Brock

Ultimate One Universe - Year-One Style DC And Marvel Shared Universe

I won't fall off the wagon, I won't fall off the wagon, I won't fall off the wagon...

Welp. Guess I need to see which characters are accounted for.

Marvel: Knights of New York

Beautiful stuff out the gate, boys. Tomorrow's a day off, so I'm looking to sit down and cook up a nice batch of Hawkeye for y'all.

Marvel: Knights of New York

MARVEL: KNIGHTS OF NEW YORK

HAWKEYE

CHARACTER BIO:

Real Name: Clinton Francis Barton
Age: 30-something
Gender: Male

Powers, Abilities, and Gear: Clint is an expert marksman with some level of mastery over all ranged weapons, though he strongly favors the bow and arrow. His accuracy with such is near superhuman, and he also possesses a heightened spatial awareness that allows him to make shots with incredible speed, from extreme distances, and even at odd angles. He often supplements his skill with the bow by employing various "trick" arrows. In addition, Clint has trained with various melee weapons -- most prominently the sword -- which makes him a versatile combatant. When all else fails, Clint is a competent hand-to-hand fighter with a basic knowledge of a variety of martial arts styles. Lastly, he is an Olympic-level athlete and acrobat.

Origin: Clinton Francis Barton grew up in Waverly, Iowa, always dreaming of a better life. On top of the fact that Waverly was hardly a childhood dream locale, Clint had to deal with his abusive, alcoholic father, Harold. From an early age, he learned to take a beating, a painful experience that would serve him well as he grew older. After Harold and Edith Barton, Clint's mother, were killed in an accident -- with a drunk Harold behind the wheel -- Clint and his brother Barney were entered into the foster care system. The two boys proved a lot to handle; after bouncing between foster homes, they eventually ran away and joined a traveling circus.

Two circus performers -- Jacques "Swordsman" Duquesne and Buck "Trickshot" Chisholm -- took an interest in the boys, particularly Clint. They began to train the Bartons to fight and shoot. Clint proved to be a natural with a bow and even began performing under the stage name "Hawkeye" for a time. Eventually, however, Clint discovered that Swordsman and Trickshot had been moonlighting as criminals. Worse, Barney knew of the circus' illicit activities and had even assisted as a lookout. Intending to turn them all in, Clint came to blows with Swordsman, who left him for dead. He survived, but the circus, the Swordsman, and Barney were long gone.

For the next few years, Clint was adrift. He took odd jobs here and there, never staying in one place too long. While working as security chief for Cross Technological Enterprises, Clint became embroiled in an investigation into CEO Darren Cross led by Barbara "Bobbi" Morse. Bobbi revealed herself to be an agent of SHIELD, codename "Mockingbird," and enlisted Clint's help in bringing Cross down. The two grew close, eloping shortly thereafter, and Bobbi helped Clint enlist in SHIELD. Returning to his "Hawkeye" moniker, Clint's skill helped him rise quickly through the ranks. His marriage to Bobbi eventually dissolved, but before long Hawkeye was invited to join the ranks of the Avengers, Earth's mightiest heroes.

Being an Avenger proved to be Clint's true calling. Despite occasionally butting heads with his teammates -- particularly Captain America -- Hawkeye proved to be an effective asset. As time wore on, however, and the Avengers faced ever more dire threats, Clint began to doubt his worth. A farmboy from Iowa with no superpowers to speak of, Clint felt woefully out-of-place surrounded by these other giants. Recently, everything came to a head when Hawkeye went down during a mission. Needing to recuperate from his injuries, Clint took a leave of absence from the Avengers and returned to New York City. There, he heals and contemplates his place in this strange and wild world...

STORY INFO:

High Concept: If it wasn't obvious, I'm drawing heavy inspiration from Matt Fraction and David Aja's iconic Hawkeye series. What does it look like to be the most "normal" Avenger? How does that weigh on Clint's soul? This is all about taking a man who's fought alongside icons and gods and dragging him back to his roots. Stripping away the glitz and glamour and showing why Clint's resourcefulness and conviction make him every bit the equal of men like Captain America and Iron Man. If I do it right, it'll be the Marvel Netflix Hawkeye that we'll never see, the man on the ground waging a one-man war against impossible odds.

Motivation and Conflict: This is Hawkeye at his lowest point. He's been running himself ragged trying to prove his worth around the other Avengers, and now it's finally caught up to him. He'll channel his self-doubt into making a difference for the "little guys," and, in doing so, remind himself why he wanted to be a hero all along.

Notes: TBD

PLAYER INFO:

Player Name: Eddie Brock
Preferred Contact Method: PM

Why This Character?: I admire the Fraction/Aja run and thought it sounded like great fun to "adapt" that in a grittier, more mature setting. Take a little of the whimsy out of it and explore a Clint who's really at the end of his rope. There are just so many juicy story threads to pull if you want character-driven action, and that's what I like about him.

What Can You Bring to the RPG?: Years of play-by-post roleplaying experience, a strong commitment to characterization above everything else, and hopefully a positive presence all-around.

The New Frontier: A Marvel/DC One Universe RP

I'm not dead! I just realized it's been, like, a week since I said anything, OOC or otherwise. Anyway, @GreenGrenade's unfortunate departure threw me a curveball, so I had to retool Spidey's immediate future; however, I know what I'm going to do. Top priority is getting Flash moving again.

The New Frontier: A Marvel/DC One Universe RP

Your eyes do not deceive! Yes, it is a Spider-Man post, and yes, it is crap. But if I let that story arc stagnate any longer, it was going to swallow me whole.

The New Frontier: A Marvel/DC One Universe RP

Blackie may not be what you'd call a "reliable witness," but he wasn't lying about the Cluemaster's hideout. I've got no idea where Arthur Brown raised funds for his burgeoning criminal empire, but he's obviously spared no expense on security. The abandoned factory is crawling with what I can only assume are private contractors, guns-for-hire that all look like UFC rejects toting serious hardware. Fortunately, very few hideouts account for an approach from above. From a nearby roof, I form a Spider-Man sized slingshot by firing webs at neighboring steam pipes. I launch myself across the gap between buildings, feeling the night wind rush past my masked face. As I land with a tumble, Spider-Sense confirms that my little stunt went unseen. I can only hope that the rest of the rescue mission goes as smoothly.

Accessing the factory from the roof is simple enough when one can crawl on walls. While the lower windows are mostly boarded-up, the higher stuff is ripe for the taking. I stick close to the ceiling, using the shadows to my advantage. There's a guard patrolling the catwalks just below me; nothing the element of surprise and a little webbing can't handle. Once he's disposed of, I have the catwalks to myself. Still, I tread carefully, knowing that the ol' red-and-blue will stick out like a sore thumb if someone thinks to glance up this way. Like the outside, the interior of the factory is an ant farm of douchebags. They've set up staging tables below with an assortment of goodies: guns, money, pills, and the like. It's the fixture at the center of the room that has drawn my eye, though.

Dangling from a chain on the ceiling is Spoiler, looking a little more tattered than the last time I saw her. Beneath her, a furnace of molten metal gently bubbles. I swing across the vast expanse of the factory towards her, taking care to land carefully and not set the chain rattling too loudly. From up here, the heat of the furnace feels a bit like an open oven door. Spoiler immediately looks up, and though I can't see her expression beneath the mask, I'm sure there's no lack of surprise. "You know, there are better ways to get a tan," I say softly. I start climbing down the chain towards her.

"How did you find me?" Spoiler whispers, her voice betraying her weariness. I don't blame her; I've only been baking in this heat for thirty seconds, and I already feel my strength being sapped away.

"Believe it or not, I'm actually kinda good at this 'crime-fighting' thing."

"Better than me, apparently," she says bitterly. As she hangs her head, she continues, "I was so stupid. I should have known the breadcrumbs were too big. They were baiting me into a trap, and I fell right into it."

I get to the point where Spoiler's wrists are wrapped up in the chains. I'll probably have to snap one or two of the links to get her free. "Hey, we all make mistakes in the beginning," I offer. I need to lift her spirits if I'm going to get her out of here. "You know, I once got between a guy and girl who I thought were fighting; turns out it was some kinda weird fetish thing? As soon as I turned the guy's wrist, the girl started beating me over the head with her purse."

That earns a chuckle. "Seriously? Well, I take it back; you're awful at this."

"Careful now. I could still decide to leave you here..."

Spider-Sense! I barely move out of the way, swinging up the chain, as a bullet loudly ricochets off one of the links. I snap my head around in the direction of the shot. Standing on a balcony by the abandoned manager's office is a blond-haired man dressed in tactical gear; his long ponytail hangs over the bandanna that covers the lower half of his face. Bandoliers criss-cross his chest, toting capsules and grenades of all sorts. "Daddy dearest?" I ask Spoiler. She nods.

Smoke curls from the muzzle of Cluemaster's rifle. "Spider-Man! So happy you could make it. I was beginning to worry that you wouldn't hear about me capturing the amateur."

"The amateur?" I repeat with a glance at Spoiler. "Does that make me the professional? Finally, some well-earned respect!"

"I was content to let you chase your own tail, confident that you posed no serious threat to my operations, but after your... interruption... on the docks, Hammerhead made his terms clear; eliminate Spider-Man, and I would get my seat at the table. But how? How best to draw you out? Then, my men reported something interesting. When this girl's life was threatened, you leapt to her aid." He gives a mocking clap. "The bane of the hero: the obligation to protect and save others. So, I figured I could eliminate two birds with one stone. You see, Spoiler's not the only one foolish enough to walk into an obvious trap."

Spider-Sense blares again as Cluemaster's men take aim. I'm forced to leap for the catwalks as the bullets start flying. The Cluemaster wastes no time exploiting my natural reflex. At the press of a button, a small detonator unmoors the chain holding Spoiler from the ceiling. She lets out a terrified shout as she begins to plummet towards the liquid metal below. Leaping won't get me there in time; I have to trust my aim under fire. Luckily, my web-line is true, and I catch the end of Spoiler's chain. Giving it a yank, I swan-dive from the catwalks and catch Spoiler in my arms. We land ungracefully, but at least we're alive. Without a moment's hesitation, we roll behind an empty furnace for cover.

"I need my gear!" Spoiler shouts over the clang of gunfire around us.

"Where?" She nods her head towards the manager's office, one level above the factory floor. I grimace. "Alright. Keep your head down." I wait for the pause in the shooting before making my move. No sooner have I landed on the office's balcony than my Spider-Sense compels me to duck. The butt of Cluemaster's rifle arcs just above my head. I sweep the Cluemaster's legs out from under him, smacking away his rifle as he falls. A swift kick to the chest sends him skidding across the metal grating of the balcony. Sure enough, Spoiler's utility belt is dangling from a hook just inside the door of the office. I snatch it quickly and call out, "Spoiler! Catch!"

She leaps, making the connection with the belt mid-tumble, before disappearing again behind a pillar. I don't have time to track her; Cluemaster has recovered and is upon me again. He throws a few desperate haymakers that are all-too-easy to dodge. He's not an unskilled fighter, but he is clearly untrained. And I've gone up against far worse. After a wild right hook whiffs, I quickly web Cluemaster's fist to the balcony railing. He nearly pulls his arm out of its socket trying to break free. "Now, who's trapped?" I grab him by one of his bandoliers and toss him over the railing. His webbed hand brings him to a sudden halt, and he lets out a pained yelp.

By the time I turn my attention to the factory floor, I find that Spoiler's been hard at work. There are already men lying on the floor, and clouds of smoke from her grenades continue to linger. I can't let her have all the fun, though. Before I leap down to join her, I retrieve the automatic camera from my belt and place it in an optimal position. After that, it's just a matter of hamming it up for the camera. The hardware that Cluemaster has procured makes his men more of a threat than most, but it'll be a cold day in Hell before hired thugs take down Spider-Man! (Okay, so maybe I shouldn't tempt fate like that...) Spoiler and I even manage a few team-up knockouts that are sure to look great, as long as the camera isn't out-of-focus. Within minutes, we've subdued the crowd.

Once the dust has settled, I stand by Spoiler's side as we look up at the dangling Arthur Brown. He's fallen unconscious, either from the shock or the struggle. "Well, you did it. How does it feel?"

"You did it," she corrects me. As she folds her arms, she sighs and adds, "But it doesn't matter how he was caught; only that he was. Maybe seeing the consequences of this life will sober him up, and he can go back to being a dad." Her tone betrays a lack of hope in that possibility. I want to comfort her, but it doesn't seem like the time.

"So, your crusade is over. Does that mean this is the last time I'll see you?"

Beneath her hood, she turns her head towards me. "I don't know. What would you do?"

I motion to my costume. "You've seen what I would do."

At that, she can only nod. "I think for now... I'm just going to enjoy this sense of accomplishment."

"That's fair." I snatch up my automatic camera with a web-line while Spoiler's attention is focused on the Cluemaster. As I return it to my belt, I turn to leave. The approaching sound of sirens confirms that Cluemaster and all his men will be sorted out shortly. Before I go, I turn back to Spoiler and say, "For the record, though, you could feel this way all the time. Just food for thought." I fire a web-line at the ceiling and begin to swing away, letting Spoiler have a moment of silent contemplation at the end of her journey.

The New Frontier: A Marvel/DC One Universe RP

<Snipped quote by Sep>

One of my friends described it as Inception meets Batman Begins, iirc. Which I like the sound of. As for Civil War, I think it'll be just as big of a clustered mess as Dawn of Justice, though it'll probably be more fun to watch.

@Gowi

Early reviews have all praised the movie's balance; sounds like it keeps a tight focus on Captain America as a through-line while giving each character at least one "spotlight" moment. I have no worries with the Russo brothers. With their television background, they're used to handling ensembles, telling an episodic story, etc.

As for my own radio silence, this is just the busiest two week stretch of my semester. By next Wednesday, I'll be in the clear through summer. However, I don't intend to sit on my hands until then, so I'm still gonna try to post ASAP.

The New Frontier: A Marvel/DC One Universe RP

What's that? I should really post? No worries, I've got the weekend to--

Oh shit, what happened to the weekend? Welp. Not one of my more productive ones.

The New Frontier: A Marvel/DC One Universe RP

Bleh. Not terribly thrilled with that effort, but whatever. The climactic conclusion should go better.

The New Frontier: A Marvel/DC One Universe RP

Ostensibly, the Big Sky Lounge is a billiard hall catering to Manhattan's working class. Much to their dismay, the NYPD have never been able to prove the truth known to everyone from Hell's Kitchen to Yancy Street: that the billiard hall serves as a front for all manner of illicit activity, from proprietor Blackie Gaxton's bookmaking business to fencing stolen goods to contracting freelancers for heists, shakedowns, and worse. In a single night at the Big Sky Lounge, an observant listener could overhear details from more than a dozen indictable offenses. It's a wire-wearer's dream, if only they could establish probable cause. Of course, New York is a big city, and not everyone in pursuit of justice is beholden to due process. A silent figure prowls the rafters on the hunt for information. Unbeknownst to the seedy clientele below, the Big Sky Lounge plays host tonight to Peter Parker, better known in these parts as the Spectacular Spider-Man!

* * *

As it turns out, starting a new crusade can sometimes be deathly monotonous business. Ever since Spoiler shut me out -- a second time, no less -- I've taken it upon myself to offer my help in bringing down Cluemaster, whether she wants it or not. Of course, I'm not just doing this out of the goodness of my own heart; Arthur Brown's been carving out a little empire for himself, and worse, he's been offering his services to help pond scum like Hammerbuild build their own would-be crimelord portfolios. He's got to be stopped, and if I can do it before Stephanie gets hurt, all the better. Unfortunately, Cluemaster has been frustratingly sparse with regards to the whole "clue" thing. His crew consists solely of hired professionals, mercenaries who would rather be strung up by their ankles than turn on their employer and lose their reputation. Believe me, I've tried.

Fortunately, I may not need to go through Cluemaster's men to get to the man himself. No one of his magnitude can move in on this turf without making waves. And if there's one thing I've learned in my short time as a New York crimefighter, it's that nothing happens in this city that Blackie Gaxton doesn't know about. Getting Blackie to talk is, of course, its own hassle, but I'm running out of patience and leads. So I've come to Blackie's place of employment for an unannounced visit. Slipping inside from the back was easy enough, and now I've made a little spot for myself on the ceiling where I can overlook the place. Blackie's seated at the end of the bar, helping himself to a dark stout and occasionally exchanging words with passers-by.

As my boredom reaches peak levels, I'm about to drop down and make my presence known when Blackie actually starts to move. I crawl along the ceiling in pursuit of my target, following him to the back door. Before the door closes behind Blackie, I silently flip through the opening and into the alleyway behind the lounge. Blackie wanders a few steps away from the door as he pulls a carton of cigarettes from his pocket. Just as he's about to light one up, I snatch it away with a quick web-line, saying, "You should really take better care of yourself, Blackie. Your lifestyle is already high-risk enough before you factor in COPD."

He turns to me, his face a mixture of surprise, annoyance, and a hint of contempt. "I knew you cared about me deep down, Webhead," he says flatly as he smacks a second cigarette out of the carton and sticks it in his mouth.

"That's me, alright; a regular bleeding heart," I answer. "Got any idea why I'm here, Blackie?"

At that, he chuckles, a hoarse and bitter sound. "I got no idea why you do anything you do, pal." He lights the cigarette and takes a long drag. "I'm betting it has something to do with the warpath you've been on lately, though. Way I hear it, you've been barking pretty hard up a certain tree, lookin' for answers."

"You flatter me! I didn't know you kept such keen interest in my affairs." I lean back against the brick wall behind me, letting my feet keep me adhered a few feet above the ground while I cross my arms. "Well, let's hear it, then; what do you know about the Cluemaster? How do I find him?"

After another drag, Blackie taps his cigarette to knock away the ash. "Here's what I want to know: even if I were inclined to help you -- and I certainly am not -- why would I sell out the Cluemaster to you? Guy's got nothing to do with me. He hasn't hurt my business any. I stand to gain nothing if you take him down. I'm not in the business of favors, especially not to wall-crawling pests."

"You've got a point. You're just a businessman, driven by self-interest," I begin. "Well, how about this for self-interest: if you don't want to cooperate, I'll just go back inside and knock around some heads until I find someone more interested in playing nice. Imagine how light business'll be once word gets out that Spider-Man makes a habit of raiding the Big Sky Lounge!"

He sneers. "Fine. I'll tell you what I've heard. But only because I doubt you'll survive the firepower at Cluemaster's disposal, anyway. He'll fix you like he did your little purple girlfriend."

As soon as I realize what Blackie's saying, I hop down off the wall and charge him. Putting one hand on his chest, I lift Blackie off his feet and pin him against the wall. With my free hand, I reach up and flick away his second cigarette. "What are you talking about? What did he do to Spoiler?"

Blackie shrugs. "Who knows? All I know is that his men nabbed her the last time she stuck her nose where it didn't belong." Even as I keep my strength pressed against him, he leans his head forward to add, "There might be a lesson in there for ya."

Cluemaster has Spoiler. If she's been such a thorn in his side, I can only imagine the twisted revenge he must have cooked up for her. I press a little harder against Blackie's chest, just enough to push a little air out of his lungs and get his attention. If Stephanie's in real trouble, then I don't have time for subtlety anymore. "Tell me where he is."

"Alright, alright! Word is he set up shop in an abandoned factory on the Lower East Side. Place is guarded like a damn fortress. You want my advice--"

"I don't."

"--sit this one out. Even you will have trouble getting in there."

"Well, that's the fun part, isn't it?" Before releasing Blackie, I reach into his coat pocket and retrieve the half-empty carton of cigarettes. As I let Blackie fall to his feet, I crumple the carton in my palm. "Sorry, bud, but the intervention was necessary. You already reek of stale smoke. And, just since we're good pals..." I flick my wrist and web his one leg to the pavement. "Now if someone finds you in the next hour, you've got plausible deniability. You can say I forced the information out of you!"

He stares at me bitterly. "I really hate you sometimes."

"Only sometimes? I'm getting rusty." I give a mock salute before leaving Blackie to stew. I can only hope that I find Stephanie before her father does anything irreversible.