Avatar of GreenGrenade

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

I've only got one thing to say Maria

I'm so sorry
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
T H O R
"I desire my death now.
The disir call me home,
Whom Óđin hastens onward
From his hall, to take me.
On the high bench, boldly,
Beer I’ll drink with the gods;
Hope of life is lost now —
Laughing I shall die!"

R A G N A R L O Đ B R Ó K


T H E T H U N D E R E R L O C A T I O N U N K N O W N F O R M E R L Y
O F T H E A E S I R
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

"I am tired, Heimdall.
All of the half-truths, the lies...
I did not wish to come back here."

T H O R

A millennium ago, the last of the pagan Northmen renounced their beliefs in the Aesir and the Vanir. The death of the great jӧtunn, Ymir, was replaced by Genesis; Valhǫll and Hel replaced by Heaven and Hell; the world tree, Yggdrasil, all but discarded; and the many gods and goddesses of Ásgarđr replaced by just one, the Christ-God. But there was a time before, when the Northmen still sailed to conquer new lands, that they would worship the cunning Óđin, the mighty Thor, the beautiful Freyja and mischievous Loki. Their stories would be passed on from parent to child, warrior to warrior, farmer to farmer – and although the truths in these stories would get lost amid retellings and revisions, there were those who knew them well. Those such as Ragnar Lođbrók, legendary king of the Danes, and friend to Rymr – who, illuminated by hearthfire and as impassioned as in battle, would tell his sons the true stories of the gods.

“Thor is the god of thunder; the son of the All-Father, Óđin, and the jӧtunn woman, Jӧrđ. He is the protector of the Aesir, sworn guardian of Ásgarđr, and wielder of the great hammer, Mjölnir. He was born with hair as red as blood and bright as flames, his eyes as blue as lightning; and as he grew from boy to man his body changed into that of a great warrior, his godly strength proving to be greater than both the Aesir’s and the Vanir’s combined. Long ago, when his youthful energy was more explosive than the thunderous sky, he was gifted with his first weapon by the dwarves of Niđavellir – Járnbjӧrn, the battle axe. With it he honed his skills as a warrior, and battled many a jӧtunn, until he became known as their scourge.

“His home is Bilskirnir, the largest hall in Ásgarđr; his realm, Thruđheimr. He shares it with Sif, his wife, the goddess of grain and harvest, and his children: Magni, Mođi, Thruđr, and his stepson, Ullr. He has travelled deep into Jotunheim, and emerged victorious. He has bested Útgarđa-Loki, and killed Hrungnir. He blesses us on our raids in faraway lands, and gives us fertile soil so that we may last the harsh winter. With Mjölnir, most powerful weapon in all the Nine Realms, he is fiercer than storms; with us, on Miđgarđr, he is good, and gentle, and terrible. He is Thor. He is our friend. Destined is he to kill the Midgard Serpent, Jörmungandr... just as the Serpent is destined to kill him, when Ragnarök comes, destroying everything, and everyone.”

But there is something that not Ragnar, not the Northmen, not even the Gods accounted for. Thor is not in Ásgarđr anymore.


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:

This isn't Kirby and Lee's Thor. Asgard (rendered as Ásgarđr) isn't a grand, golden metropolis, and its gods aren't extra-dimensional aliens. They are gods. This Thor has a much firmer basis in the original Norse myths, grounding him in what I believe is a far more epic, and at the same time personal interpretation of the Aesir.

Thor has divorced himself from Ásgarđr and the rest of the gods at the start of our story. No one knows where he is. All anyone can say is that he left, leaving behind his family and his people for Miđgarđr, to live among the mortals and that if it were up to him, he’d never come back. Unfortunately for him, Fate has other plans. Thor’s going to find himself drawn back into the mythical world of the Aesir, confronting the demons of their past while preparing for their future. Fate waits for no one, after all, and although it can be delayed, Ragnarök is set in stone.

For the purposes of this concept, the mortal world is unaware of the gods’ existence as far as humanity knows, the Norse, the Greco-Romans, the Egyptians, the Abrahamic God, and the world’s other deities are pure myth and scripture. The only footprints these gods have left on the world lie in their stories, traditions and beliefs. As humanity is going to find out, though... the gods are very real.

And they will all have a part to play.


C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:




S A M P L E P O S T:



P O S T C A T A L O G:

▼ B O O K O N E : S A G A
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
01. The Man Called Donald Blake





Artwork by Maximilian Jasionowski


C I T Y S T R E E T S

Now | Midtown, Manhattan, New York City

The wind whipped around Wally, feeling its cold but not its stabs as he ran, cocooned in his small field of distorted physics. His feet feathered over the ground, and he pushed towards the source of the explosion, extradimensional energy arcing like lightning behind him. Inside his pocket of anti-physics, friction did not exist; he felt no heat, no drag. Just the blood coursing through his veins, the beat of his heart and the ticking of time, time in which rubble falls, and people scream, and get hurt – and he runs.

Aliens. Bad ones. Eight of them, by Wally’s count – nine if he counted the orange one – but she seemed distressed, fiercely fighting against the others, and he was willing to bet that even if she helped cause this, she deserved the lesser half of the blame.

In his bubble, inside his mind, time expanded. Milliseconds stretched into seconds. And in those seconds of seconds, he saw –

Superman? No, that’snotClark, it’ssomeoneelsehelooksmyage, whoishe, whatishedoi

foam? Fire, putting it out, wherediditcomefrom, lookslikeitcamefromarooftopcan’tseeanyoneuptheremanifDick’sherethat’dbewaytoocool

Hey, guys. Question. Which one's are the bad guys? Garth’s voice cut through his thoughts, slow and long, and Barbara’s followed after, slower still.

Yeah, hey, kiddo. Cute party trick, but this headspace is strictly PG13, cool? Or is intellectual property not so much a thing where you're from?

Woahwhatthethisisnew, thought Wally, and he realised that he was thinking faster than they could process, Sorrymybad I’llslow down. Go for the big ugly green ones, Garth, I’m gonna help any bystanders that need helping. Maybe you could see where Agent Orange and “Superboy” stand, they’re uh –

“Superboy” splattered an alien,

– a little hard to get a read on.

People were staring a little too close to the action. If they stuck around, they’d get hurt.

Wally curved around the aliens, making a beeline for the bystanders.

Kid Flash to the rescue.

M A R V ’ S P I Z Z A

Now | Midtown, Manhattan, New York City

The restaurant shook, and Wally dropped Barbara’s slice of pizza.

“Oh man, I was so close – ” His ears rang faintly as he looked down, for a split second, at the ruined slice, before what happened clicked in his ever-speedy mind. An explosion. He took inventory of the room, checking that everyone was okay – a waitress had dropped some glasses, shattering them all over the floor, and what kids were there wailed something awful, but no one seemed hurt. Okay, Wally. You know the drill. What now?

He glanced back at his table.

“You guys okay?” he asked, reaching into his pocket and taking out a golden ring. “I’m gonna we should I’m gonna go check this out.”

He stood up, placing the ring on his middle finger as he made for the door. “Back in a Fl– ”

But he was out of there before he could finish, his costume enveloping him, and with lightning trailing behind him, he ran towards whichever danger lay ahead.
M A R V ’ S P I Z Z A

11:30 a.m. | Midtown, Manhattan, New York City

This, Wally thought, was a nice change of pace. No supervillains. No flaming buildings, no crashing planes. No physics textbooks, no multivariable calculus, no statistical mechanics or differential equations; no Barry to tell him to put down his phone and pick up his books, no Rudy to point out his numerous, embarrassing failures as not only a son, but a human being – no, there was none of that. There was just him, his friends, the bustling, ever-busy pulse of New York life, and Marv’s Pizza.

“Oh my gob – thish pizza’s sho good,” said Wally. The cheese. The tomatoes. Just the right amount of pepperoni. They all combined into a blast of such intense flavour, he didn’t know how to begin to describe it. He was already digging into his fourth pie, and he was in heaven. “I’m in heaben.”

He swallowed. “This is probably the one thing Flash and I can agree on. New York pizza’s the best.” He paused to contemplate, tapping his finger against his chin in a blur, and sighed. “Wait, no. He likes Chicago’s better. Say, Babs, are you uh… are you gonna finish yours?”

The redhead roused herself from where she’d been staring contemplatively out the window at nothing. Trying idly to figure out whether the busted street light outside increased her chances of hopping the subway turnstile without getting caught. More officers on the street, sure. But just traffic patrol, and I’m at least as good as Dad as far as they’re concerned…

“Maybe, maybe not,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “But do you really wanna test me?” Babs lips curled into something that was either smile or smirk, depending on how long a person looked.

“Absolutely. My feelings for pizza are stronger than my fear of you.” But he made no attempt at stealing her slice. “Shame Dick couldn’t make it. I didn’t expect to hear back from Roy, but it’d be nice to get Batboy out of his cave sometimes, y’know?”

She didn’t answer right away, taking a too-big bite of the slice before her, feeling sauce and cheese scald the roof of her mouth in a way that felt almost indulgent. Behind her, the place was loud with chatter and alive with the motion of people milling from door to table to pinball and back again. At the counter, a tourist was ordering two cheese slices in broken English. Babs thought she heard something vaguely Mediterranean in the accent. Outside, a motorcycle roared by, close. Somewhere on the far side of the room, a family groaned off-tune strains of happy birthday over a child’s ever-louder screaming. A radio overhead played decade-old pop hits from a former Disney star, static just beneath the dim glow and fainter hum of neon, and everywhere the sheer overpowering scent of mozzarella and tomato and oregano.

Babs chewed.

Three officers on the street, two at the corner. He’s gotta just be getting off a long shift, way he’s pacing like that. I bet he wouldn’t stop me if I jumped the turnstile. If he noticed...

She swallowed and looked back at Wally without ever having given indication that she’d left.

“He wanted to be here, but that’s the Bat-life.” She shrugged again, gave him a wry smirk, more genuine this time. “Think Barry’s bad? Try Bruce.”

“Nuh-uh. No thanks. My head’s already exploded from Feynman diagrams and atomic processes, I don’t need any more neurosis on top of my neurosis. Especially not the Bat-kind.”

"I don't quite see the big deal about pizza," Donna interjected, quizzically holding up a slimy triangle of bread and cheese with a look somewhere between bemusement and disgust. "It's mostly just grease, Wally. Fire-warmed bread wrapped in grease."

She turned to the squat figure seated next to her, what looked like a child no older than 12 with a shock of dark hair and bewildered look plastered on his face.

“A little different from what you're used to in Atlantis, Garth?"

The young Atlantean was currently quite discombobulated by the whole experience. The surface metropolis was like a forest of glass and stone, surrounded by the wheeled chariots that they called ‘cars’ -- some of which were the size of small whales!

Equally strange was this… pizza. Arthur had often brought souvenirs of his visits to the surface communities along the northern coastal regions, but those had been seal jerky, smoked fish, or whale meat. This was…

The boy held the triangular slice in his hands, as though trying to figure out just what it was. Grease and cheese ran down one side of his hand. Vibrant, violet-colored irises glanced up at the remark from the Themysciran Amazon. “I don’t think this would do well in the ocean,” the boy offered in a light-hearted manner.

At least it was a food that could be enjoyed with hands. Atlanteans didn’t have the same kind of cutlery as these surface dwellers it seemed. The miniature trident in particular confused the boy. “What’s… uh, what’s bread again?”
first

Banned


| Name and Alias |
Wallace Rudolph "Wally" West // Kid Flash

| Age |
16

| Powers and Abilities |
Wally is a conduit of the Speed Force, an extra-dimensional energy so named by the Flashes before him, Jay Garrick and Barry Allen. While its exact nature is a mystery, its immediate effects are obvious: it gives its conduits the ability to bend physics in such a way that they become speedsters, able to move at inhuman speeds in both mind and body.

| Origin and Backstory |
Wallace Rudolph West was born to Rudolph and Mary West in the small town of Blue Valley, Nebraska. His relationship with his father was strained, and while he was close with his mother, if you asked him he’d say that he was closest to his Aunt Iris growing up. His trips to visit her in Central City were among his fondest memories, and that wasn’t just because of the time he got to spend with her. Her fiancé, Barry Allen, was a pretty cool dude too, and Wally got along with him much better than he did with “Rudy”. And then there was the Flash.

Wally idolised the guy. And the Flash that came before him, the one called Jay Garrick? His hero. So imagine his delight when he found out that not only was Barry the Flash, but that he knew Jay, too. He was… he was excited.

Life went on. Wally adjusted to the fact that his uncle was a superhero. The new became the status quo. And then lightning struck.

Wally was a freakin’... Wally was fast.

He’s been Kid Flash for two years now. He and Barry get along great. Him and ol’ Rudy? Not so much. He has friends, too. He’s catching up with them soon. Nothing exciting. Just a pizza. And some aliens.

| Summary of Version Differences |
Mostly the same, with some big differences under the surface that I'll hopefully get to show off.
P R E M I S E:



© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet