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 E G R E E N L A N T E R N
HAROLD 'HAL' JORDAN ♦ FIELD MECHANIC / SPACE COP ♦ COAST CITY, CALIFORNIA ♦ UNIVERSAL LANTERN CORPS
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"You can't forsee all the consequences of your actions - but that's no excuse to do nothing."For as long as he can remember, Hal Jordan had one singular ambition: to be a fighter pilot, just like his dad. While his brothers Jim and Jack had never quite taken after their dad's predilection for daredevil antics and high-flying feats of aviation, Hal wanted to experience everything his father had told him about it. Late at night, the elder Jordan would sneak his boy out and take him on solo flights, allowing Hal to gaze up at the stars and dream. It was the greatest moment of his life, and the one that set his life's path forever. But all good things inevitably come to an end, and for Hal, that end came with the tragic death of his idol. After making a series of grave miscalculations during a routine flight for a local stunt show, Martin Jordan perished in the midst of an explosion that Hal was unfortunately present to witness. The memory would haunt him forever, as he clutched onto the bomber jacket that Martin had told him to keep safe until the fire department had to forcibly pry it away in order to take him to a hospital.
In a state of extreme grief, Hal's mother forbade him or his brothers from ever flying. They wouldn't even be allowed on commercial airliners until they were old enough to leave the house. But Hal rebelled, studying for his pilot's licence by the age of 16 and looking to enlist in the US Air Force when he turned 18. Though he was turned down for disobeying his instructing officer, Hal's determination never wavered, and he found himself applying for the position of test pilot for Ferris Airlines. After his mother died of complications due to ovarian cancer, Hal's older brother blamed him for killing her with his recklessness, creating a rift between them that would never truly mend. He took out his grief in a bar fight with a redheaded punk named Gardner that night, and ended up totaling his car on a drunken drive home. It landed him with a stint in jail five years probation.
To no surprise, then, did Hal's first test flight with Ferris the following week end in complete and utter disaster. After lying about his credentials and playing up his connection to the famous Martin Jordan, Hal was immediately proven to be nothing more than an amatuer when allowed into the cockpit on his own for the first time. He crashed a state-of-the-art jet that was going to secure Ferris' place in the next arm's race, likely securing a contract with Stark Industries. Both enraged over this incident and another involving his young daughter Carol the day before, Carl Ferris immediately sought to ground Jordan permanently - and did so by sending him to the worst dead-end assignment in all of Coast City, working the scrapyard for Ferris' decommissioned jets. Along with his friend Thomas Kalmaku, Hal would spend the rest of his days there fixing up planes, getting into fights with hotshot pilots who talked down to him, and getting drunk while his life spiraled out of control.
Eventually, he settled into his position, and had accepted his fate - until today, when fate would come calling his name.
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:
I'm not gonna mince words: this Hal Jordan is, by and large, a complete fuck-up. He's not a hotshot pilot with daring moves who's too good at his job for anyone to understand, and he's not a rebel without a cause that manages to scrape by because he's a reckless idiot. He's just a reckless idiot who managed to screw up what used to be his biggest opportunity in the world. This is the story of how a fuck-up can be granted a second chance at fucking up, probably be pretty bad at that too, but learning enough of a lesson that he doesn't die when all's said and done.
As for why I wanted to play this character, I've done my fair share of grim and gritty vigilante stuff for as long as I can remember. I was actually going to apply for two seperate archetypes of that same character before I settled on this when I realized that it wasn't what I really wanted. So doing an approximation of Star Wars: Superhero Edition sounded like a nice change of pace. And doing Hal Jordan from the ground up in a way that doesn't paint him as the end-all, be-all wielder of the ring is an idea that's appealed to me for awhile, and never really something I ever thought I'd try. But, well, here I am.
I've been a fan of Green Lantern since I was a kid, watching Superman: The Animated Series
introduce Kyle Rayner in such a great and simple way that expanded the world of the Green Lantern Corps to me. So much so that when Geoff Johns took over the title and reimagined a large portion of the GL mythos, I was onboard. However, with hindsight, I see alot of flaws with Johns' portrayal of Hal and his shafting of the other Lanterns' legacies, so I want to do the character right and try and earn something of a level playing field for characters like Kyle Rayner, John Stewart, Guy Gardner, Jessica Cruz, and Simon Baz - who I'm hoping will be able to pop up in my story along the way, in some shape or form. Though I'm also perfectly willing to work with anyone who wants to play them, too.
And in a notable change, The Green Lanterns aren't the ruling color class pf the emotional spectrum that the Guardians Of The Universe yield exclusively. They enlist Blue Lanterns, Star Sapphires, The Indigo Tribe, The Honor Guard and the Alpha Lanterns to make up a more diverse Corps called the Universal Lantern Corps. Greens are simply the SWAT unit, essentially, of the Guardians' overall peacekeeping organization.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Supporting Cast (Earth)
Dr. Hector Hammond
Carl 'Crusher' Creel
Alan ScottSupporting Cast (Lantern Corps)*
Abin Sur - Soon To Be Deceased
The Guardians Of The Universe
Mantis (Barring acceptance from @HenryJonesJr)
Starfox/Eros Of Titan
C'hp*Future Lanterns such as Kyle, Jessica, Simon, John, and Guy may appear in cameo roles, unless an extended period of time with no applications allows for them to be expanded upon.Supporting Cast (Villains)
Coast City, California
Ferris Airlines Tarmac
You ever have one of those 'floating' dreams?
Y'know the one. You're soaring high above the clouds, looking down at the miniscule little specs of structures that would normally tower above you. The wind in your hair, the breeze on your face, the little voice in your head telling you that it's not real - only for you to say 'to hell with it' and ignore any sense of logic or reason, because goddammit, you're flying and nobody can take it away from you. Nobody and nothing. Except reality, when you finally wake up and realize that you were never up there at all. See, that's the moment that kills you the most. The dread of a so-called normal existence, where you're not rising above your challenges, but facing them head-on. Losing, most of the time, against the elements stacked in your way. But you still cling to that moment. The idea that whenever you're done, you have another chance to soar. Another chance to make your problems go away, forever.
I've been chasing that dream since I was too young to remember. My brother used to tell me it was just because I was a stupid pilot's son and that's all I could ever hope to amount to be. But my brother was a prick like that. Always trying to tether me to the ground, when I belonged up there. Among the clouds, looking down on the world that'd make me want to wish I'd never dare dream to be alive. Well, I decided to do something about it. Worked my tail off until I couldn't stand it, then pushed myself further. Got my pilot's liscence the day I turned 20. And then, whenever I got an actual shot at taking to the skies without an instructor looking over my shoulder, I sure showed them all.
I showed them that they were right.
I had no business being up there.
Crashed and burned the first flight I ever manned solo. Funny how life works like that. I got an instant demotion from test pilot for Ferris Airlines to field mechanic for Ferris Airlines' scrapheap of the dead, trying to restore old fighter jets that'll get decommissioned and paraded around at museums. The place you get sent whenever you've screwed up so royally that nobody wants to hear your all-bark, no-bite schtick anymore. When you've proven to the world that you are a complete and utter loser who dared to dream big and landed flat on his face. "Hal? Hey, Highball! You care to join us back on Earth, or did you want to daydream the entire shift away?"
I look away from the airfield just a mile off from our workstation as my buddy, Tom, hands me a socket wrench as he wipes fresh oil from his forehead. He and I have been working our asses off in 98 degree weather trying to make this old, rusted Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptor look like it didn't take a nosedive into the Pacific for the last few months. So far, we've only managed to strip it for parts and complete a partial restoration on the left wing. Still alot of months to go, and for pay that barely makes the rent, let alone any affordable conditions. Me, I never minded sleeping a couple of nights in the truck. Tom, on the other hand..."What, afraid you'd have to do the heavy lifting for a change?"
Tom sneers as I grin back, zipping up the front of my coveralls. The walking oven, as we've taken to calling it. Wiping the bead of sweat from my brow, I duck under the wing and make way for the jet engine that my esteemed colleague was so delicately trying to pry from it's titanium casket. "Hell no. If I'm lucky, I get that thing loosened enough that it falls and breaks every bone in my body. Then I can sue for worker's comp, move to Florida and live the rest of my days far away from this place."
I laugh to myself. "Roger that. Come on, let ole' Junkyard Jordan assess the damage..."
After gulping down a heavy swig of water, Tom walks over and leans above the engine's hull, just where I've slid myself under to finish where he started."Man, I'm starting to think that's a serious ambition. You know what I mean? This place is sinking faster than the damn Titanic, and I seriously doubt a couple of grease monkeys like us have much in the way of job security."
I grimace as the humidity jumps to what feels like another thousand degrees."You stripped the bolt. Think you can interrupt your death wish long enough to hand me the drill?"
He slaps the side of the engine just to mess with me, but obliges. I pull on my gloves and strap a welding mask on. Gonna see some sparks fly before this thing so much as budges. "I think you're overreacting, pal. Ferris hasn't been in business since '59 just to tank over a couple of lousy performance reviews. They've seen their share of bad publicity in the past, but hey, that's the business. Tell me that Virgin or Southwest hasn't looked worse in the last month compared to us.""You sound like you're paraphrasing the brochure, Hal.""Well, maybe a little."
Tom shakes his head and heads off to his break as I begin to drill into the rusted shaft holding this stubborn bolt. Sure, I mostly said all that to assure him
that things weren't going to hell, but I honestly don't know if I'd be all that broken up to see an early foreclosure. I mean yeah, these guys were the first to give me my shot at the big time - or at least, what I thought was the big time five years ago - but they put me out to pasture within the same month I signed on. I've been laboring away at this dump ever since, and the only way I think I'll grow a pair and leave is if they fire me or shut it down.
Especially after the boss caught me and his daughter doing the, uh...
Well, the thing all boys and girls like to do when they're old enough.
Hell, even that's putting it generously. We were making out in a broom closet, for Christ's sake. And after that, did I get so much as a phone number from Ms. Holier-Than-Thou herself, Carol Ferris? Nope. Nada. Hear she's seeing some physicist, these days. I pity the guy. All those degrees, and he falls head over heels for the single most stuck-up b...
I shoot straight up so fast that I forget where I am for the moment, instantly hitting my head on a solid slab of titanium. Removing the now freshly cracked welding mask - nice one, Jordan, they're surely
not about to dock any of your pay for that - I roll out from underneath the turbine and look around, partially startled. Whoever was calling out to me said my name in the loudest tone I've ever heard in my life. And yet, looking around... I don't see a damned thing. "Uh... present?"
YOU POSSESS THE ABILITY TO OVERCOME GREAT FEAR
YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED FOR THE CORPS
Great... fear? Corps?
What the hell is this guy talking ab---
I don't even have time to think before the world starts turning colors on me. At first, I think it's a hallucination. Like the heat's getting to me, or something, and I'm having one of those prior-to-blackout moments that everyone who's experienced heat exhaustion has ever talked about. But the world starts to get a little brighter as the color engulfs my body entirely, and I suddenly feel like...
Well, like I'm floating on air.Holy flipping mother of...!
WELCOME TO THE GREEN LANTERNS