Hound55

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Should have a post up tonight which will end this soul-crushing solo-arc for me and throw back to the real world.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

“Spell..?”

<You hid your [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: whereabouts, location] from us. We only had limited use of equipment on board. Now it’s interfering with our analysis. What spell did you use on yourself?>

“Magic.” He spat in contempt. “I don’t ‘Do’ magic.”

<Not according to what we’re seeing here.> The creature replied. <What exactly did you do? We’re picking up cross-dimensional residue.>

“I may have dabbled in some interdimensional travel...” Isaac gave a wry smile, enjoying having something over the smug aliens.

<On your [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: right hand side]. How?>

Isaac looked down and to his right, there was a jar of some kind of blue liquid. He cocked his head to the side and gave a look of disgust.

<How?>

Seeing that the alien wasn’t going to let up he knelt down to the jar and suspiciously eased his hand in. The blue liquid was malleable and was easier to manipulate artistically than simple drawing, it was as if the liquid could connect directly with his mind and take form of whatever he envisioned. Isaac moved his hand, sweeping his fingers over his sculpture until it took perfect shape. The form of the teleport device he was given that enabled him to move to the last world.

The two creatures looked on and gave an unintelligible groan and click. Apparently a sound of recognition.

<This device... did it have a [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: dial, toggle] on it?>

“No.”

The same groan and click combination.

<A tetherporter.> the one creature said to the other.

<What exactly happened?>

And so Isaac told the whole story, starting from when he first met a godlike little girl who gave him that device, the message that was inscribed upon it molecularly and his trip between two worlds, the way he struggled and fought with his alternate self and threw him out of his world and back into his own...

<You what???>

“I opened the portal back to my world and kicked him through.”

<You broke the device.> The one said to the other. <He’s an [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: idiot, imbecile, dunce]. He broke a tetherporter.>

“Me? I didn’t break it! I don’t even have it! I—“

<You gave it to your other self and kicked him through another dimension. It’s broken. [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: idiot, imbecile, dunce].>

“Well, how has that made me somehow magic?”

<It hasn’t. [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: idiot, imbecile, dunce].>

“I’m starting to get sick of you calling me that...”

<You realise a tetherporter is basically by definition a [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: idiot, imbecile, dunce]-proof device. It’s a simplified device designed to connect two specific preset dimensions together. Somehow you managed to out-[Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: idiot, imbecile, dunce] an [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: idiot, imbecile, dunce]-proof device.>

Isaac scowled.

<And the worst thing is you’re too [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: stupid, idiotic] to even realize what you’ve done.>

The creature kicked the machine and started to explain its frustration.

<The multiverse is for all intensive purposes, infinite. It grows exponentially every second. As every second passes alternate possibilities are experienced on a separate universe. Essentially infinite possibilities, infinite universes forming a greater multiversal tapestry. These tetherporters are what we use for beginner [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: officers] since they’re essentially [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: idiot, imbecile, dunce]-proof and with less moving parts since they’re preset, there is less that can go wrong.>

“So?” Isaac said defensively, getting sick of the condescension. “What’s that got to do with what you’re doing?”

<‘What I’m doing’ was attempting to analyse your greater destiny with a mana-physical providence-scanner, so that we could gauge how big a threat you are.>

The creature continued.

<Only we can’t because you’re an [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: idiot, imbecile, dunce]! Every being has a greater line of destiny in its universe. Generally speaking, interdimensional travel puts a hold on that destiny, where it will still be in effect upon the being’s return.>

“So... my destiny’s been put on hold.”

<No, you [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: idiot, imbecile, dunce]. Do you have any understanding about the nature of infinity? The likelihood of you ever returning to your home-world where your destiny will once again take effect is infinitesimal. It’s essentially the difference between 99.99 recurring and 100. It’s mathematically insignificant. It’s, for all intents and purposes, impossible!>

“So, you can’t see my destiny, because it’s ‘on hold’?”

<We can’t see your destiny, because due to the nature of infinity, somehow in spite of the fundamental laws of magic YOU no longer have a destiny! Our damn equipment won’t work... so we can’t gauge your threat level!>

The creature went to a control panel and hit a button. The jar next to Isaac went through the floor and heavy glass or plastic security panels dropped from the ceiling and encased the dark figure.

<So if we can’t properly gauge your threat level, we can’t risk letting you go free. We may not be able to see it on the screen, but your destiny ends here...>

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

16 foot balrog walking into the city is Icon's Tuesday...

Shadows Among Us

Something came up and I'm going to bail before I make a first post and set the Question's character in stone.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Well... finally got something done up there.

Course it's not a full post, but figured the introduction (which is probably necessary from the long overlay) would eat characters...

More to come.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Previously: From a world not completely unlike our our, Isaac Fontaine found himself pulled backwards into this world. In that world, Isaac fought crime, injustice... and occasionally the downright weird as the Vigilante.

He clearly plans to do that again. And it's for that purpose that he looked to re-secure a line on equipment which he used in his own world. After a shaky first impression with the man who may hold the key to what he needs, Isaac disappeared into shadows of the backstreets.

That was when it happened:

Previous post said Then he felt it.

A sensation like something had just grabbed him around the waist from behind and yanked him. The street disappeared beneath him, then so did the city, then Maine, the Eastern Seaboard, the entire continent, the world, then the sun and new and different stars went whizzing past. Places he couldn’t name because they’d never been given one, even if he could recognize them (which he couldn’t). Twinkling stars became streaking lines of light.

Somehow, for the second time in his life, he could breathe whilst in the great expanse of space. But this would be impossible. Tilting his head back, he tried to look around him to see how this could be so but immediately felt sick from the light show of stars blinking into and out of view.

No more streaks. Now simply there one second and gone so fast he wasn’t sure he’d ever even seen them. A sense of déjà vu.

Then the streaks appeared behind him again. Whatever was happening, he was slowing. Not that that said much, he was still going faster than he ever thought possible. Then suddenly he was inside. How that happened was a mystery. He was in a place. Protected from space suddenly, he could never see it coming because he couldn’t bring himself to look ahead of where he was going due to the motion sickness. He’d slowed to a pace that allowed him to come to a smooth landing.

Then his legs gave out underneath him. He dropped to his knees and retched all over the floor, his stomach settling almost instantly in the process.

He looked around and saw two... creatures. He thought. He didn’t know what the hell else to call them. Bolbous masses with tendrils, tentacles and a puckered toothless hole which Isaac incorrectly assumed was the mouth.

One creature ran away from behind him, Isaac realising he’d just had some kind of device put on his head while he vomited.

To control me? Pacify me?

<Greetings. Hi. Hello.>

“OK. Not to pacify. To translate.”

A device on the other side of the room made a seemingly incomprehensible squeals and grunts.

Getting to his feet, Isaac tried to fully comprehend his predicament as he surveyed the room around him.

“Well, this is by far the most unlikely thing that’s ever happened to me...”

He wiped the vomit from his mouth with his sleeve. Can’t have an alien race thinking we’re all a bunch of disgusting slobs.

“And that’s saying a lot.”

So that's where we are...

---

<Do not be alarmed.>

The brow of Isaac’s balaklava lifted a half inch in response.

“Riiiiiiiiiight.” He sarcastically muttered.

<We apologise for the inconvenience; this should not take too long. We also apologise for the queasy feeling you felt, FTL travel can be a traumatic experience at first for new organisms not accustomed to it.>

Isaac spat on the floor, the taste of vomit still in his mouth and the back of his throat. The floor was dusty and seemed to absorb his saliva with no noticeable effect. He began to peruse the room he was in. The walls were made from a strange fibrous compound similar in density and texture to natural oak, knotted and bulbous in places but unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

“What is this?”

Further chirps and clicks before the device on his head translated.

<It is comprised of [Searching for equivalent...] [No exact equivalent found in vocabulary] [Approximation: Organism similar to literary triffids but not belonging to plant kingdom]... pine.>

Isaac was staggered by the foreign sensation of images and concepts flashing across his brain courtesy of the strange device around his head.

“Triff—what the hell are you talking about..?” He muttered to himself. “No,” he clarified “I meant ‘what is this?’ as in what am I doing here? Why did I get dragged through time and space for the second time in days?”

The creatures stopped fiddling with machinery long enough to look at Isaac as the reply filtered through the translator.

<We apologise if we have not followed any regular cultural customs for your species, we have not been [Searching for equivalent...] [No exact equivalent] [Approximation: verb for following/observing] long enough to learn the appropriate ritual, song or dance for these circumstances. We are [Searching for equivalent...] [No exact equivalent found in vocabulary] [Approximation: Noun, meaning guardian or protector,] of the spacetime continuum. We detected a disruption in the spacetime continuum, or rather an organism which had disturbed the fibre of spacetime. We are the operating team # 35496 operating in area [Searching for equivalent...] [Equivalent calculated] [Solution: 12832.4582OSA13474G] and as such, it is our duty to investigate and risk-assess said organism.>

“And that organism would be me.”

<Well, of course...>

“Risk-assess?”

<Do not fear. It is a simple enough procedure, we’re just readying the [Searching for equivalent...] [Approximation: device/machine] now.>

The pair continued to hurriedly work at machinery. Complicated machinery with glowing, moving parts.

The pair looked back at the black garbed being from area 12832.4582OSA13474G, then back at the machine, making further alterations to controls.

“35496...”

<Yes. On behalf of 12832.4582OSA13474G.> One stated, whilst working painstakingly at the machine, looking back and forth between Isaac and the device.

“Yeah... that’s where you lost me.” Isaac said, inspecting the walls again.

A strange gurgling noise of rushing air, not unlike a belch or fart, came from the pair. <Please excuse our [Searching for equivalent...][Approximation: Laughter, mirth; specifically in a derisive manner.] it’s just amusing to us that you creatures don’t know your location within... well, at least the universe.>

The other creature spoke up. <12832 is our greater sector sector. Our jurisdiction is for timespace disruptions around the 4,582nd star system, on the Outer Spiral Arm of the 13,474th galaxy. It’s your address. I think you call your major star> suddenly the clicks and chirps stopped as the creature made a garbled monosyllabic expulsion of air:

“Sol.”

<Is that correct?>

“Riiiiiiiiiiiight.” Isaac muttered.

<Quit showing off.>

<I told you I could get it.>

<So? You should be able to get it. You’re linguistics. He’s from [Searching for equivalent...][Equivalent calculated][Solution: PP3ONARS.12832.4582OSA13474G].>

Isaac tilted his head at the pair. “You added some more on this time. What was that.”

One creature looked at the other. <That’s your world’s classification. Primitive Planet Three. Oxygen and Nitrogen Alpha Respiratory Suited. It’s the kind of world you’re from.>

“Primitive?” Isaac growled with an animosity not exactly disproving their point.

<Primitive. You’ve yet to develop the capacity for FTL travel, perfected cryogenic restoration or developed perpetual motion engines to eliminate energy crises...>

“Perpetua-- Perpetual motion’s impossible.”

<Exactly.>

The creatures went back to work on their device, while Isaac silently seethed.

The man otherwise known as the Vigilante pondered his predicament. These creatures are some kind of law enforcement; only with a very small jurisdiction and little care for anything outside of it. Presumably they picked up that he’s not from this world, hence the disruptive presence in spacetime, and now they were checking their suspicions and would likely send him back.

Least that’s what seemed likely...

<What..?> One of the creatures appeared to look back at Isaac from the machine. <What kind of [Searching for equivalent...] [No exact equivalent] [Approximation: spell, enchantment] did you use on yourself?>

“Spell..?”

Shadows Among Us

Feel free to drop an IC post in there somebody.

I'd rather not follow up Roman's good, gritty street level magician post with my own gritty, street level fists-philosophy-and filing writs Question...

Shadows Among Us

Sloth said
It appears the Xbox character limit for a post is 16,384. If anyone cares to know, my Green Arrow sheet will apparently require a lot more than that, so I'm afraid I'm shit out of luck for the time being. No laptop, phone dead so no Skype, and now this discovery. Life really doesn't want me to play Oliver Queen it seems.

Character: Ollie Queen - Green Arrow
Backstory: Island. Got v/ good at archery. Came back. Now vigilante in Star City.
How different: Every post tweet-length.
Sample.
Hi Ollie. Hi Dinah. Would u lyk to kick ass? Yes. Boxing glove arrow! Day saved. Back to millionaire mansion.

Shadows Among Us

Any planned start date for the IC or is it pretty much just jump in whenever?

Shadows Among Us

Identity:
Originally Charles Szasz, now Vic Sage (with alternate identity The Question – also known as “No-face”)

Origin and Backstory:
1986, a young child, two years of age was found outside of the inner city apartment of the Ditko family with a note pinned to his shirt that announces the child as Charles Szasz. Steve and Denise Ditko, unable to have children of their own, take the child in and do the right thing. They give him a mug of hot chocolate and a blanket and call child protective services.

Child protective services retrieve the boy, where he is then temporarily taken to one of many orphanages within Hub City. Times have been getting increasingly tough in Hub City and this tale is, tragically, not an uncommon one.

Paperwork is filed and filed and misfiled, the wheels of beauracracy spin. Saint Catherine’s Home became Saint Catherine’s Home became Saint Caterina’s, became Saint Callinica and Basilissa. Szasz became Zsasz, and other permutations. The Ditkos attempt to find the boy, but given the runaround by the system and misfiling of paperwork the young boy appears lost in the system.

All the while the young Charles Szasz exists in a hellhole. Molestation and abuse have become rife in these homes which take on both genuine orphans and “wayward” children alike. The paperwork crosses the desk of a withered attorney, the motivation for his role long since beaten out of him Charles Szasz is merely a name on a piece of paper. No attempt is put in to tracking his parentage or any who may have submitted requests to adopt him. Charles Szasz is rubber stamped as a ward of the state.

The young boy learned resilience. If nothing else Saint Catherine’s taught that. Only the tough survive, and Charlie learned that brutality was one of the few things predators respected. But it wasn’t just anger that burned within him. Charlie had an insatiable curiosity and drive to learn, this eagerness drove him to excel in academic pursuits and likely stemmed from the unanswerable question of his parentage. The combination of the two led to numerous attempt to escape; the logic being that life on the streets, completely unprotected against bad people was better than being locked in a building full of them. In 1997 he plotted a major attempt to escape – however his plan was not perfect – a single nun crossed his path, desperate for freedom the boy knocked the sister down with a single punch before jumping the gate.

Charles Szasz survived 4 days on the street before the 14 year old boy was apprehended by police after being caught stealing fruit from a grocers’.

The paperwork for the assault crosses the desk of a withered attorney, the motivation for his role in law long since beaten out of him, Charles Szasz is merely a name on a piece of paper. No attempt is put in to tracking his parentage or any who may have submitted requests to adopt him. Charles Szasz is rubber stamped by a judge as “ward of the state”.

Neither the judge nor the attorney would remember the name a month from then.

Now with this mark against his name, Charles Szasz has little hope of finding an adopted home. Things get a little better for him at Saint Catherine’s as he ages, combined with the talks of his escape leading to predators to generally seek weaker prey. He concentrates on academia as his way to get out, and receives a letter from HCU’s Law department after entering an extracurricular essay writing competition with a lengthy piece on social justice. He also files to receive his own records, in an effort to trace his own family. This leads to his discovery of the lazy handling of his own case, obvious even to the teenage Szasz, and further fuelling his interest in law.

The next few years went by fast. Charles Szasz completed his high schooling and eventually gained an academic scholarship to study law at Hub City University (having turned down a financial aid scholarship based on principle). He went on to become one of the five fastest people to pass the Bar in HCU history and split his time completing post-grad studies (having grown to be fine friends with Professor Aristotle Rodor, and sharing a firm belief in the importance of continually growing one’s own knowledge base) and fishing for cases at the Public Defenders Office.

In these early days, Charles took on a case for his friend Rodor as an ex-associate (Dr Arby Twain) attempted to frame him for a crime and steal his patents. With few resources at his disposal Charles acted as his own private investigator looking to dig up evidence to clear Rodor. Dr Twain confronted Szasz and the two fought in Twain’s highrise office. Attempting to kill Szasz, Twain detonated an explosive device which resulted in his own demise as the blast propelled him out the office window, whilst heavily injuring Szasz. Police stormed the building looking for the culprit, but fortunately Rodor had discovered Charles’ intentions and knowing the threat Twain posed, found him first.

Charles Szasz was badly wounded and with his life on the line Rodor made a snap-judgement decision; using a sample of the pseudoderm he kept handy, he patched up his wounds and preserved his identity by using some as a mask. He then carried him from the scene using a service elevator he still had the key for. With questions that Szasz could never have hoped to give a quality answer to, Charles Szasz would owe his life and career to the older man.

Over the next few years his passion and brilliance in the field saw him shine and he was poached by a moderate sized private firm, where his talent quickly bloomed as he rose to become leading partner of the firm Sage, Stevens, Sienkowicz and Associates which became a juggernaut in Hub City.

Unfortunately another side began to shine through in the lawyer now known as Vic Sage... Was this an avenue for the displaced anger of his years of abuse? Or perhaps a psychological need to protect the other side of justice system given physical form to assuage his own guilt?

A criminal defense attorney by day, vigilante seeking justice by night, who fights for the wrong, who fights for the right?

That is the Question...

Character Notes:
Setting - Hub City
Hub City is a swirling vortex of corruption that could be condemned any day now. It had an even heavier reliance on the automotive industry than Detroit and when that went belly-up Hub City’s hopes died. Only three types of people remain in Hub City. People who are too poor to be able to afford to leave, people who are too stubborn to leave and the parasites who feed on its rotting carcass.

Vic Sage is two of these things.

Hub City makes Gotham look like a high-end health retreat. Every day crime and corruption grows and more of its infrastructure collapses.

Supporting Characters:
Aristotle Rodor
A true renaissance man, after one tour of duty Rodor left the US Military (where he was a trained field medic) to work in the private sector on his own innovations. It was there that he created pseudoderm. Designed to be an alternative to bandages and stitches, pseudoderm was a form-fitting material that could seal open wounds. After some legal difficulty regarding the rights of the creation with one Arby Twain, Rodor stepped away from his own company and withdrew into finding personal betterment elsewhere. Rodor chose education, he worked towards several doctorates and decided the best way to positively impact the world was to instil ethics and education to the following generation. His credentials were more than enough to land him a position at Hub City University, where he would eventually be destined to teach philosophy and ethics to a young prodigy Charles Szasz as he sought his law degree.

Myra Fermin
Mayor elect. The woman with the least enviable position in Hub City. Holding the reins of the runaway carriage of a city that’s clearly headed for doom. Previous leaders have scavenged the city, embezzling and looting public coffers and making her job difficult to nigh impossible. Vic Sage took quickly cleared her of allegations, the result of a smear campaign leading up the the election, however the mayor sees him as part of the cause of the downfall of the city. Their relationship is rocky at best.

Izzy O’Toole
Detective in the Hub City police force. Rocky alliance with Sage’s Question/No-Face identity, loathes Vic Sage the lawyer.

Powers and Abilities:
No change from the original version, except his knowledge in the field of journalism is replaced by law. Vic dons a pseudoderm mask, held on by an adhesive spray (both creations of Aristotle Rodor) that also alters the colours of his hair and clothes when seeking justice as his alter ego.

Has great powers of deductive, abductive and inductive reasoning, which aid in creating alternate theories in building cases in criminal defence and also investigating as his enigmatic alter ego. Moves “remarkably well, for a well-dressed creep” as said by criminals who have met with the nocturnal No-face. Training by the finest martial artist in the DC Universe combined with a brutal streak gained from an early life of abuse has sculpted him into a fighter who is capable of fluid, efficient combat, but also can possess a barbaric streak.

How is this character different:
Putting him in the field of law seemed like a natural move to me, with his natural inclination towards “posing the right question”.

I like the aspect that he provides the criminal defence that he politically believes everyone is entitled to by day, whilst operating for the opposite side of the justice system by night. The two sides both often representing the best and worst of a Hub City that is circling the drain, as well as the battle for his own soul.

I think there’s a lot there.

What is your goal with this character:
To establish a complex version of this Vic Sage and Hub City, before hopefully being able to expand and interject him onto the greater Ultimate DC Universe.

Sample post:

I’ve got to be honest, I love this more than a little.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today to resolve a matter of grave injustice.”

Opening statements. Always a lot more leeway, even beyond the rules of the court which allow for a little more rhetoric and dramatic style in these moments, the prosecution will generally sit back because except in extreme cases they don’t like to be seen as bullying the defense.

“We will hear today how one man’s rights were infringed upon.”

Just me, a stage to speak and twelve jurors aching to hear our side of the story.

“You’ve already heard the prosecution’s side of the story, and whilst it’s true that my client may engage in questionable acts. He may have a job which you and I don’t approve of...”

They’ve already sat there listening to the prosecution bash and batter my guy for 4 straight days, throwing expert witnesses and evidence and crap at him whilst hearing nothing from us. I’ll be honest, it made my client more than a little nervous. Hell, twice he threatened me with physical harm (from a technical stand point) until I explained how it will strengthen our case.

“...but the fact that my client is, as the prosecution terms it “a pimp” does not mean that he is not entitled to the same inalienable rights that you and I have. It does not justify a different level of treatment or provide an exemption from due process.”

The truth is I chose to delay the defence’s opening statement until the defence part of the trial for just this reason. The prosecution had been throwing punches at my client for 4 days now, and with the weekend thrown in the jury had gone 6 days hearing nothing from the defence aside from the occasional objection. Now they were hankering for it, and with my case resting on the notion of bullying and improper arrest from the HCPD the prosecution now had to be wary of their decisions to object, to avoid sending a message that they were trying to bully my client even in trial. He’d held up fairly well in court, although he was clearly coming apart behind closed doors.

“In the next few days you will discover how my client was arrested WITHOUT being read his Miranda rights and was held in an unconstitutional fashion. These rights are ours as Americans, and it can be no less just to convict on these grounds than it would be to find anyone hear guilty of speeding without providing evidence of a reading. These rights exist to protect us all as citizens. Not merely those who hold an occupation that we approve of.”

I look across the 12 sets of eyes in the box, none flinching, all eagerly absorbed in everything I have to say and again I have to admit I love this. Pride. One of those things that can be seen as both sin and virtue, depending who you ask. My friend, Tot would probably say both. He’d probably quote his namesake and note that Aristotle referred to pride as “crown of the virtues”, before dropping the obvious reference to its place in the seven deadly sins. Lives in both worlds. Can’t say I don’t know how that feels...

“You’ll get an understanding of how the police didn’t feel it needed to inform my client of his Miranda rights. Following which, my client was held an interminable period of time in a cynical fashion whilst the police attempted to extract information to create a charge.”

Prosecution got my witness list as I’m expected to hand over in discovery. There’s a lot riding on them not identifying the pivotal witnesses and leaning on them. And unlike our firm they have the full power of the Hub City Police Department to try and do just that. That’s the problem with this city, sure, I often find myself defending criminals – as is their constitutional right – but in this city, there’s as many crooks in a uniform as there are out. In this system it’s a stacked deck, designed to draw convictions and not release the wrongly accused it’s why good lawyers like myself earn so much.

“No statement drawn from my client in such a fashion can be admissible in court. Meaning the evidence against Mr Weeks is flimsy at best, and possibly artificial at wo--”

“Objection!”

“Opening statements, Mr Golding, I’m going to allow it. Go on Mr Sage.”

I struggle to keep the smile from my face. The jury saw exactly what I wanted. The prosecution attempting to silence the defence and getting slapped down by the judge.

“--possibly artificial at worst.”

Here in lies the game. Knock the evidence out of the box. Whilst I believe it to be true that the game is stacked towards the prosecution, doesn’t mean a smart player can’t win. I still have one thing going for my side above all else. The prosecution must prove its case with admissible evidence beyond a reasonable doubt. Those beautiful three words. “A reasonable doubt.”

As always, it’s my job to preserve the question...