Hound55

One Universe: World Of Heroes - A Marvel Comics / DC Comics Crossover RPG!

<Snipped quote by Hound55>

Let us play villains, you cowards.

@Byrd Man

One Universe: World Of Heroes - A Marvel Comics / DC Comics Crossover RPG!

Disclaimer: Characters from ... will not be permitted. Nor will ... Similarly, villains are off-limits. With so many characters already to choose from, adding a third faction after the hero and anti-hero lines unnecessarily complicates things.

@Master Bruce

Boomerang does not care for your sneaky rules tucked away at the end there...

One Universe: World Of Heroes - A Marvel Comics / DC Comics Crossover RPG!

<Snipped quote by DClassified>

I've actually cleared my Dick Grayson concept with both prospective Batman players, so I know my idea will work no matter which ends up with the Dark Knight.

@Lord Wraith

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 3- Shattered Dimensions

Hey, all! I'm back and will be returning as Miss Megaton in Season 3. Just gotta take some time to get caught up and decide how I want to merge my planned season opener with the big event...

In the meantime, I do have a casting change. Henceforth, the role of April Newton/Miss M will be played by Elizabeth Lail (You, Once Upon a Time).

Reference

@Eddie Brock

Great to have you back!

One Universe: World Of Heroes - A Marvel Comics / DC Comics Crossover RPG!

The world is in peril..? Again..?

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 3- Shattered Dimensions

Previously…

Hider

Alan Coghlan walked to his kitchen and took down a cup from a cupboard at head-level, filled it with filtered tap water from a tap and downed his day’s worth of pills. He walked over to the living room and turned the television on to the news. He sat down in his own recliner, separate from the sofa.

DING-DONG!

Isn’t that always the way?

With some effort he got to his feet and, shuffling at first, he made his way to the front door.

DING-DONG!

“Alright. I’m coming! I’m coming! Hold on!”

He opened the door and found himself inches away from him. Of course it was him. That man in black. Complete with balaklava in the middle of the brightest part of the day.

“Are you going to let me in, or am I going to pick you up by your lapels and carry you inside for this talk, old man?”

Alan sighed and looked both ways down the street.

“I suppose I’d better let you in then…”

Alan Coghlan seemed to age another ten years in that moment, he shuffled back to let the masked Vigilante into his home and the pair went into his lounge room.

“Where’s the other? I don’t want any surprises.”

“He lives out the back. But it’s too early yet. He doesn’t generally wake up until 10.”

“So Grampa, the city has this-- Oh, Hi.”

Isaac raised his eyebrows at the old man with skepticism.

“Alright. You can sit down next to your grandfather. He’s got a story to tell us.”

“No. He doesn’t.” Alan said stubbornly. His resolve returning. Not like this.

The Vigilante’s eyes steeled. He checked the layout of the house. The old geezer seemed willing to talk, just not in front of the kid. The kitchen was isolated from the rest of the house.

“Change of plan. Your grandfather could probably do with a cup of tea--”

“He doesn’t drink tea. He drinks coffee.” The younger man stood his ground and crossed his arms obstinately. Dennis didn't care for how this man had walked into his home and started barking orders, but he also didn't exactly understand the situation.

Isaac’s brow furrowed. Even Alan was close to snapping at his grandson in frustration. But gathered himself.

“Coffee, then.” Isaac spat between gritted teeth.

“Dennis, please. I’ll be alright.”

Dennis walked out into the kitchen to get to work on coffee, but not without giving the man in black a glare.

As soon as his grandson left the old man uttered “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. You have as long as it takes water to boil to tell me why in the Hell I saw an old former hero associating with the known terrorists behind the Pax Metahumana bombings. So you’d better make it good.”

Isaac sat in a red velvet antique chair that gave him the angle on both the kitchen and the old man. He leaned forwards onto his haunches so his face was inches away. He wanted to be close enough to read every tick, every involuntary wrinkle, any possible attempt at deception crossing the old man’s face.

“Well… it all started in the winter of 1929…”

---

The old man’s story completed; the pair sat there in silent contemplation.

“So that’s it?” The man in black asked. The long tale of alien artefacts, heroes and villains, death and domestic terrorism seemingly not enough for him. “That all of it?”

“That’s the all of it.” The old former hero confirmed.

“AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaAAAARGH!” Dennis charged around the corner from the kitchen brandishing the Golden Rod, levelling it at their uninvited guest.

“Hmph… Pointing a weapon at me. _{If only that had occurred to all of those other violent sociopaths who have wanted to get rid of me over the years…}” The Vigilante dripped with sarcasm.

“I don’t care what he did! Or what crazy made up bullshit he told you! You’re not taking him! I’ll drop you where you stand! --Sit! --I’ll put you down on the place where you are!” Dennis fumbled over his threats, his grandpa’s eyes almost rolled to the floor.

“You’re not going to shoot me.” The Vigilante uttered plainly, with a completely level tone and not moving an inch.

“Yes, I will!”

“No. You won’t.” He gave a clipped reply, his confident tone still not wavering at all. “You’re more likely to shoot your grandfather or yourself than me. But you’re not going to do that either.”

“Why? Give me one reason! I’ll—”

“I’ll give you three.” He turned to glance at the older hero to ensure he wasn’t making any kind of move, before returning his line of sight to the younger man wielding the powerful energy weapon. “Reason one, because you don’t even know if that thing can work on me. There’s a reason it didn’t prevent your identity from being revealed to me. Magic gets kind of—hinky—around me. Even alien magic, as it turns out. As far as you know, all firing that thing at me at me will accomplish is pissing me off. Which is reason 1b… or two, if you’re not counting along yourself…” The Vigilante got to his feet and started to take the inexperienced hero’s space, still talking rapidly and keeping him off balance. “…Two, you really don’t want to piss me off. I’m not some two bit street thug, bank robber or random hellspawn demon. You’re trapped in an enclosed space with me – which incidentally is part of 1c or three if you’re still not following – and I assure you, no matter what kind of training ‘Gramps’ over there gave you…”

“Hey… Hey, watch it... Move back now…” Dennis feebly countered, but the Vigilante was in full swing. It wasn't going to happen, even unarmed, the experienced vigilante was already in the process of taking full control of the situation.

“…no matter how hard he worked you. You’ve never seen anyone move like me.” His brow dropped into a scowl, and he was smiling a wide leer at the younger man. “Which takes us to three, you’re standing in close quarters. In your grandfather’s house. You fire that thing off in here and take out a load bearing wall, you’re liable to bring the damn roof down on ol’ Pops… and I can’t have that. Because I came here for the truth and he’s been giving that to me, and still has some to go. And since you’re being so polite and letting me talk, I’ll throw in a fourth reason for free...”

“Wha—”

“--Because you’re not holding the damn thing anymore!” The Vigilante looped a length of material - the couch protector from the chair he’d previously been sitting in - around the younger man’s wrist, and with a single flourish ripped the Golden Rod out of his grasp, and tossed the device along with the balled up material into the corner of the room.

Dennis watched the Golden Rod fly out of his grasp in horror.

“Well, I’ve seen enough.” Said the old man from his chair. “You took it from him. Far as I’m concerned, you should keep it.”

Dennis looked aghast, unable to even formulate words. He ran out the back door to his own place.

The Vigilante turned to hold out a hand to stop the younger man, but he was already gone, so he turned back to the older man. He pulled his balaklava off of the bridge of his nose in frustration. This family was stress and anxiety given human form.

“I can’t. That wasn’t just some bullshit line. The same reason it didn’t keep your identity safe from me is the same reason I probably wouldn’t be able to get it to work. Far as I can tell it works from a combination of alien technology and alien magic.” He explained.

“Oh…” Was all the older man was able to muster as a reply. They both looked to the door the younger Aquilifer had left through.

“That’s really all you were left to work with?” The Vigilante growled.

“Yep.” Alan Coghlan responded with deep resignation. The old man clearly very economic with his words.

“I guess we’re lucky you didn’t gift-wrap those Pax Metahumana nutbags an entire meta-nuke arsenal to carpetbomb the whole fucking world…”

---

The Vigilante shuffled through discarded beer cans, this time in someone else’s house. It wasn’t as pleasant a change as you might think.

“Look… just… Leave me alone for now.” Came a low mumbling. “I’m fine. Just not at the mo-- Oh. It’s you.”

“It’s me.” The Vigilante confirmed.

“What? Come to kick me out and take my home too, huh?” Came the sullen response.

“Well, the place has got a Hell of a view from the back stoop… He pointed to the back door which still hung directly over the cliff face, overlooking much of Lost Haven.

The younger man turned to snap at him with a heavy scowl crossing his face.

“--I was joking.” The flat monotone from the voice modulator gave away nothing.

“You didn’t seem like the kind to joke around.

“Yeah, well… The moment seemed to call for it.”

The pair sat in uncomfortable silence for several seconds. Birds tweeted in the bright light of day from outside of Dennis’ place.

“I’m not taking the thing from you. I wasn’t lying about my deal with magic. I almost certainly wouldn’t be able to get the thing to work-- Hell, if the thing wouldn’t immediately break if I even trie--”

“That’s not the point though, is it? He doesn’t even know you. Hell, he doesn’t even trust the hero-types who dress themselves all in black. I’ve heard him say stuff about you before...” The Vigilante raised his brow behind the mask in moderate surprise. “...when you were on the TV.”

Isaac remembered the regrettable public display he made during D-Day, and the press van which had been filming him and grunted his distaste at the memory.

“But it's not even just that. He knows you five seconds, someone he previously distrusts, and immediately hands it over to you. Without even asking. I try to keep you from hauling him off to prison for... whatever he’s supposedly done--”

“Aiding and abetting terrorists.” The Vigilante flatly replied.

“--aiding and abetting terrorists. Dennis gestured at the Vigilante for his answer. “And he gives some ridiculous story that’s obviously never going to believed by anybody--

“Actually, it's the truth.”

“--that’s actually the truth and was completely believed by you… Wait, what?”

“Your grandfather was telling the truth. At least as far as I can tell… But that sounds like something for the pair of you to work out between yourselves later. He was definitely keeping that from you. Regardless how it affects the pair of you, I don’t plan on hauling him off to prison… there’s too much to prepare for, now that we know these aliens are coming to invade.”

Dennis’ eyes glazed over. “I’m sorry… How much money are you expecting to receive back from Nigerian royalty? You believe his story? I don’t even believe his story. You believe in aliens???”

“I believe in THESE aliens, yes.”

“Oh-kaaaay. Well then, I guess I’m sorry I was pointing the Golden Rod at you then.”

“It’s OK. You weren’t going to shoot me.”

Dennis scowled at the other arrogant hero. _{“So you said…”} He muttered.

“And as for your grandfather trying to give me your gig, I wouldn’t worry too much about that either. You’re thinking about that all wrong.”

“Oh I am, am I?”

“You’re thinking of it as a gift, which he bestows on people. That’s not how he’s thinking about it. He’s thinking about it like… I don’t know? A responsibility? A debt? It’s hard to put into words. He’s taken out a mortgage on the whole world, and it's coming up time to pay the piper.”

Dennis looked at him blankly. He didn’t care for how familiar this man seemed to already view himself as being with his family’s dynamics, but as he spoke about the weight of debt, this man almost seemed to be coming from an empathic place - one where he felt he could actually relate.

“Your brother actually wanted this life, didn’t he? Same with the other guy.”

Dennis sat in total introspection and an answer fell from his lips almost involuntarily as he followed the Vigilante’s logic. “Yeah…”

“So he’s already lost one grandson who actually WANTED to be part of this lifestyle. Now he’s had to thrust it on his OTHER GRANDSON who never asked for it, right when these aliens are about to ‘close the deal’. Aliens who he has seen and experienced obliterate EVERY opposing force they’ve ever stood against. And you’re going to blame him if he tries to throw it at someone else he sees as possibly being capable of doing the job who happens to show up at the 11th hour?”

Dennis wasn’t sure, so he sat in silence.

“Let me ask you this… Have you made it clear lately that you actually want this? Or are you just mad that he’d give something you feel you’re owed away without even asking?”[/color]

Dennis thought about this as well. The pair sat and shared another extended awkward silence.

“I think I had better have a long discussion with the old man…

“I think you had.” The Vigilante stood up, his feet dropping back through the metal detritus that covered the younger man’s floor. He turned and gave Dennis a disappointed look through the balaklava, the kind he normally got from his grandfather.

“They’re not all from now… I’d actually stopped drinking.” The younger man promised.

”Is that supposed to be better?” The older hero asked, wading through a sea of metal cans.

“Isn’t it..?”

---

The Vigilante started to walk back down the driveway, contemplating the meaning of everything he’d learned on this day and how best to respond to the new information, when he was met once more by the older man scurrying to see him one last time before he left.

“Wait… wait…” The old man hissed hoarsely.

“What is it?”

The old man presented a box, and gestured for the Vigilante to keep his voice down. _{“I know what you said about the Rod and magic, but I can still give you something to help. Just don’t use them publicly until… you-know-when. The Golden Rod, it sends back intel, you see?}

The Vigilante opened the box and saw a pair of metal… things. He didn’t know what he was looking at or even how to describe them. He furrowed his brow.

“What are these?” He tried to whisper, his voice still coming through the modulator uncomfortably loud.

_{“They’re Gravity gauntlets. I’ve been reverse-engineering the technology of the Golden Rod for years. Whilst the Rod presumably is powered initially by some kind of alien magic combined with their tech, these are battery powered.}

The Vigilante opened the box again and saw how they’d be able to fit over his gloves.

“Ah.”

_{“They’re currently pre-set to 10x regular G-force, but they’re adjustable. Hit the button as you’re throwing a punch or throwing something and it artificially affects the mass being thrown. If you press the button just normally, it’ll just feel like you’re carrying something heavy. Be careful though, it’s easy to hurt yourself… separate your shoulder.”}

“Speaking from experience?”

“Well, I wasn’t as young as I used to be...

“Hmm… Well, I gotta go. It looks like you’ve got something else painful to sort out, out back. He thumbed back at Dennis’ house behind the main home. “Or you’re going to have separated something else.”

The pair parted ways, with the old man's head cowed at the thought of the task ahead.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 3- Shattered Dimensions

Join us in our CAH Chatroom

Catch up on the events of Season 1:
and now Season 2

@nitemare shape

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 3- Shattered Dimensions

Character you have created: Dennis Connolly
Alias: The Aquilifer

Speech Color: Standard Forum Text, Golden Rod

Character Alignment: Hero

Identity: Identity kept secret to the public due to alien magic imbued within the Golden Rod protecting his identity. Identity known to his grandfather, the original Golden/Silver Age Aquilifer… and now to The Vigilante.

Character Personality:

Personality

24 years of age. Lazy, born-loser. Has a massive inferiority complex to his dead brother and sizeable self-confidence issues. Cares too much about what other people think, compared with doing the right thing. Unemployed, drinks, has partaken in what his mother calls “the pot” and is just completely ill-equipped to inherit the legacy of a super hero...

But other than that he’s a nice enough, personable type. Just not someone you’d trust to loan money too, let alone significant power or responsibility.

Uniform/costume:

Costume

Dresses fairly casually usually, although will tend to wear a leather flight suit jacket lined with down to protect from wind-shear with only an emblem of wings over the breast-pocket as evidence of his “eagle-bearer” legacy. An old flight helmet with a decal of eagles wings and jeans when he intends to go into action.

Origin Info/Details:

Origin

In the 1920s and 30s the United States had their own golden era of heroic figures. People who would prevent bank robberies, retrieve cats from trees (if asked politely, as all would do in the salad days of yore), put out fires, save people who fell whilst cleaning high rise windows (hey! It happened more than you may think) and otherwise making the world a better place. Whilst never looking to get involved in global politics. (Because, gosh darn it, hard working types had earned those positions and had more experience and were doing the work they were best suited for in those roles).

Then came the ‘30s. And Nazis. The Attack on Pearl Harbor awoke a sleeping giant. And suddenly the U.S. was unable to stay out of the war.

And the earliest heroes suddenly realised where their efforts would best be suited.

Amongst these heroes, was one man. The Aquilifer. Who named himself after the ancient Roman standard bearers who carried the symbol of the eagle. Armed with the Golden Rod, a powerful technological device years beyond anything mankind could surely have devised – possessing a power that surely could have come from God himself, the Aquilifer quickly forged a name for himself as a symbol for justice, righteousness and freedom from tyranny.

Eventually, the good guys won the day. Soldiers, both powered and otherwise came home and returned from making America and the free world safe from rat-zi jackboots, and set to work once more in their role of making the country the best place possible to live. The Aquilifer returned to his home town of Lost Haven and looked to use the Golden Rod to do just that and more. While the Aquilifer set to work in that regard, a gentleman by the name of Alan Coghlan looked to achieve the same goal himself... by providing a new technological renaissance, CoghlanGears grew into a large company coming up with many patents and tremendous innovations that were years ahead of their time.

In the late ‘40s during a battle with one of the Liberty Legion’s great foes, Tempus Flare the Time Pirate several members of the Liberty Legion, including the Aquilifer, disappeared. It was a dark day for the nation and the lost members were honoured in the Hall of Heroes at the Museum of Supers in Lost Haven, which had quite a large representation of members of the group, and in numerous other memorials in cities ranging from New York to Washington D.C.

Strangely it was around this time that the founder of CoghlanGears, Alan Coghlan, also disappeared. Apparently seeking a life of solitude and meditation.

It was with great jubilation that the world saw these missing heroes return in the sixties. It appeared that instead of dying or being lost for eternity in the terrible time tunnel of the Time Pirate, they had merely all “been misplaced” and jumped forward over 20 years until they had successfully taken down the dastardly Tempus Flare.

Many of the heroes struggled to adjust to the changes they had seen in the American culture after their lost twenty years, and many settled down presumably to families or perhaps a well earned retirement. The Aquilifer continued to strive for justice, albeit in an increasingly limited capacity for the following ten years.

Around the same time the elusive Alan Coghlan had been discovered. Due to his unreliable absence over the years his company had moved in other directions from the conscientious board of directors who had assumed control in his stead. A nice suburban house in the Little Ulster quadrant, with a white picket fence and a second chance with the wife he had unthinkably left behind all these years were suitable enough payment for his years work in constructing the company he had abandoned. It was around this time that his wife Margaret fell pregnant to Alan and gave birth to a daughter; Helen.

The ‘70s saw the retirement of the Aquilifer, who had undoubtedly deserved a peaceful retirement after decades of service.

The mid-to-late 1980s saw Helen (now Connolly) Coghlan have her own two children, both sons, named Sean and Dennis Connolly (nee Coghlan).

The early nineties saw a tumultuous period in the U.S. and the world as a whole. Desert Storm, the L.A. riots, Waco and the bombing of the World Trade Center saw a re-emergence of the Aquilifer of sorts. Despite clearly being a different man than the last Aquilifer, this man was a little harder nosed than the last. A different hero for a different age, his methods were at times swifter and more shocking than the previous Aquilifer. However in an age when several heroes were taking more drastic measures in response to darker threats, the Aquilifer was a steadying force and generally not in favour of needless wanton acts of violence.

The Golden Rod saw many changes itself over the years in the hands of this new Aquilifer, and also developed new tricks and uses for the Rod as well as different ways of utilizing its new features.

Meanwhile, Helen Connolly raised her boys through high school in Lost Haven, before moving across the country to Seattle to join her husband who had until this point been putting off starting his own business. Sean was doing well, was Valedictorian and also starting quarterback for his final two years. Sean received several offers from fairly big football schools but chose to stay in Lost Haven, the home he’d always known, because he couldn’t see the NFL being in his future. Dennis... was also still around. Dennis decided to go the junior college route before attending the Rockefeller Community College before eventually getting his degree in English literature. The two boys would remain in Lost Haven watched over by family in the absence of their mother and father.

The modern Aquilifer had a strong determined streak and would push himself to his very limits. But the years started to get to him by the late ‘00s, his fateful inevitable demise came in 2012, where Tempus Flare got his revenge. Traversing through time and appearing out of thin air, attaching a device to the wielder of the Golden Rod whilst the Aquilifer aged to dust on national television.

A private will-reading saw the Golden Rod bequeathed to science, however through what must have been a terrible accident on behalf of the man who was the Aquilifer, he bestowed it on the former owner of CoghlanGears, Alan Coghlan rather than the company itself.

A new, considerably younger Aquilifer appeared almost immediately after the funeral. Presumably after the elderly and disorderly Coghlan misplaced the Rod.

The new Aquilifer was a breath of fresh air, bringing back a sense of joy and whimsy to the role whilst also possessing strength, stature and intelligence. It was his inexperience however that was his downfall after the beloved hero was lured into a trap and slaughtered by Miz Demeanour and the Fel-honeys after Demeanour misrepresented herself as a rape victim. The Aquilifer eventually recognised his attackers but by then it was too late, they had him trapped, outnumbered and were armed and prepared for the specific defences of the Golden Rod.

Sean Connolly was found deceased on the scene and it appears that he had discovered the Golden Rod after his grandfather had misplaced it and had the foolhardy thought that perhaps he could use it himself.

The funeral temporarily brought the entire family together, but the parents have since left back for their Seattle home. The sole surviving son Dennis still resides in Lost Haven with his grandfather.

Few fear Dennis might have similar benevolent thoughts of flying out and changing the world should he ever stumble upon the Rod...

Season 1 Summary:
[/hider]
Season 2 Summary:
[/hider]

Hero Type:
Normal Human who wields Energy – Alien Technology/Alien Magic imbued weapon.

Power Level:
Potentially 3. World Level, or possibly even 4. Cosmic. However, Dennis is still finding his own way and is therefore currently somewhere between 1 and 2 – Street Level/City Level.

Powers:

Powers

The Golden Rod is an Alien tech/magic based energy weapon which has a myriad of uses:
- Energy Absorption
- Anti-gravity fields that allow flight or for objects to be moved or lifted
- Defensive Force fields
- Energy blasts to a range of roughly 75 metres
- Heat emission
- Light emission
- Solid constructs of energy

Attributes:

Attributes

Height: 6’1” – But hunches, so 6’0”

Weight: 166 pounds – 75 kilograms.

Strength: Normal Human, but the Golden Rod allows him to lift 10 tons.

Mobility: Normal human reaction time, able to fly at 400 mph (straight line at high altitude with no fear of hitting birds), but with a cruising speed of 75 mph (whilst the Golden Rod would allow him to fly at subsonic speeds, he’s still a guy holding it with regular human reaction time, so he seldom gets the opportunity to “open up” and push it to its limits)

Intelligence: Average

Fighting Skill: At this stage untrained.

Resources: His own resources are minimal, but he has a supporting benefactor in his grandfather, whose own resources (assets) are average, but his resourceFULNESS is large.

Weaknesses:
- Psychological – Dennis has large self-confidence and inferiority issues to his late brother,

- Has numerous self-destructive bad habits.

- Still just a regular guy, who has access to a remarkable tool.

Supporting Characters:
Alan Coghlan, grandfather – Alan was the original Aquilifer, from a different time. Having lost 20 years of his life had a traumatic effect on the old Golden Age hero, and the heavy adjustment to just how much the world had changed in those years have taken their toll. Now more than ever Alan believes the role is necessary... and he’ll mould Dennis into someone suitable even if it kills the both of them.

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:

Wait... no. You didn't see that. What? No, of course this isn't all just a rip-off alternate take on DC's Jack Knight Starman. How could you say such a thing?

Also, here's a link to my Spotify playlist for the Aquilifer, which starts off with David Bowie's Starman...

Sample Post:

Aquilifer

“Mmmm-eah?” he grunts into the phone.

“Oh thank God you’re OK! It’s all over the news!”

“Geez, ma. Calm down, what’s all over the news?”

“Wait, where are you? Are you home? You can’t be home if you don’t know what I’m talking about... Where’s Grampa Alan?”

“Ma, calm down. It’s too early for this. Now slow down. I am home, what’s all over the news?”

“Go check on Grampa Alan...”

“Alright, I’ll check on Grampa Alan. I’m going now, I’ll call you right back.”

“No! Don’t hang u--! Clik”

Dennis threw on some pants and a tee, to make the small trek from the accessory apartment he lived in to the main house which was his grandfather’s. Strange that his mother would call on his cell. It’s an expensive call from Seattle, she’d normally call the house number. But for all he knew, maybe she had and he slept through it. He was a pretty heavy sleeper after a night on the town, so it’s not unheard of that he could have slept through... oh...

Post Catalog:

Season 1

Post 1

Post 2

Post 3

Post 4

Post 5

Post 6

Post 7

Post 8 with (NMS)

Season 2

Post 1

Post 2

Post 3

Post 4

Post 5 with (NMS)

Post 6 with (NMS)

Post 7

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 3- Shattered Dimensions

Character you have created: Isaac Fontaine
Alias: Vigilante

Speech Color: Bold standard text

Character Alignment: Hero

Identity: Secret. Maintained by a level of what could only be described as extreme paranoia.

Character Personality:

Personality

Mid-to-late 20s but has been fighting crime in his way for well over a decade. Slight frame but well cut as a former light middleweight amateur boxer in school. Not a big man for someone with his “hobby” – slightly over 6 feet and put in a lot of work just to get to 180lbs – but gets by through intimidation and reputation which leads people to believe he’s a bigger man than he actually is. Was the sole heir to a very wealthy family but lives/eats like a bum – a lot of microwaveable food, and quick-to-prepare meals. Everything about him screams of “Practical over aesthetics” from his straight black costume, to his unkempt appearance in his other life. He’s someone who plans his actions thoroughly, but will often lash out speaking his mind thoughtlessly with little concern for the consequences. That doesn’t mean that he is beyond remorse, merely speaks brashly.

Uniform/costume:
Fontaine is more about effectiveness than style, as such everything he takes/wears has to be justifiable. He wears a black balaclava, generic black tracksuit top and pants, strapped with duct tape at the wrists and ankles to avoid leaving DNA evidence, wears rubber surgical gloves under leather gloves allowing him to remove leather gloves for greater dexterity.

Origin Info/Details:

Origin Details

Born in the mid-80s, his was a remarkable situation. A very rare condition saw his mother’s body treating the foetus as a disease/obstruction, her immune system attacking the baby and leaving the mother dramatically weakened and needing an extremely pre-mature c-section.

In what was previously thought to be a zero survival rate case, Isaac Fontaine the miracle baby was born in uncomfortable silence. His nerves fused in such a way as to not allow the sensation of pain to travel through to the receptors in his brain as his body managed to somehow naturally adapt to prevent the foetus dying of shock. Due to disuse and redundancy his brain’s pain receptors atrophied away to nothing. His mother’s body however was ravaged and weakened by the birth, dying in the hospital.
Her body died fighting the baby her mind wanted so badly. The father named the child Isaac, as was his mother’s wish and he raised the child as she would want, despite some deep-seeded resentment towards the child for being the cause of death to the woman he loved so much.

The boy and his father would eat at the dinner table with the evening news on in the background, and his father would comment on it with the problems of the day (his father was a brash, opinionated man, just as the son would be – he was also grooming him to one day rise to fill his shoes in the corporate world). A liberal government combined with the news would lead to great rants from the conservative father, about the government being out of touch and needing to crack down on the criminal youth element (gangs and organised crime were becoming increasingly prevalent in Terraria through the 90s-early 2000s). One phrase which was repeated often which would resonate in the younger Fontaine’s ears: “Something has to be done”.

Fast forward a few years, and a young Fontaine is playing soccer, representing his boarding school, the young Isaac was taken out via a slide tackle from a vastly bigger boy from a rival school with a bullying reputation. Isaac got to his feet and shoved the bully who countered by punching Isaac in the face. Isaac had his feet set and took the brunt of the blow, returning fire with a shot that broke his nose and sat the behemoth on his arse. The following season he was urged into boxing as word passed through the school of the soccer incident. That next winter he also moved into rugby as he grew to love the positive response and reputation he got as a fearless, loyal teammate who would throw himself in to play support regardless the odds for success… coming out on top more often than not.

His first vigilante moment came at 16, when he saw an old man get mugged by 5 punk kids who stole his wallet and, seeing that nobody around was looking to oppose them, kicked the old man in the chest and walked away laughing. Fontaine’s dark scowl reflected his posture as he hunched in an intimidating fashion over the wheel. Observed the 5 walk to their car and trailed them back to a house. Fontaine picked off the residents one or two at a time, found the wallet and fled. From the security of his car he saw the wallet had been picked clean of cash, after a brief stop he returned the wallet plus $200 to its rightful owner after knocking on the door and leaving the wallet on the step whilst checking from a safe distance. The old man’s heart dangerously skipped a beat when he found it brimming with currency, but all was well and a hero was born.

A year later his father was mugged and bled out in a backstreet after leaving through a backdoor avoiding current affairs reporters who had been harassing their way to the top due to the poor behaviour of a comparatively lower down representative of the company. With this event a hobby mutated to obsession as his father’s words echoed with meaning now greater than ever.
With access to new wealth from his passing father, an empty house to work towards his fixation and the additional alibi of taking some time off to mourn the passing of his father added to his rapidly improving methods and the cool, fearless head which led to many calling him “Iced veins” Fontaine as an amateur boxer, Isaac now threatens to be the biggest blight on crime yet… if the police and a Premier seeking re-election don’t take him down first.

Now in the last year or so his life has become quite a bit more chaotic... but that isn’t his origin.

Season 1 Summary:

Season One

Isaac was flung into this universe after interdimensional shenanigans with a device called a “tetherporter” went awry. After using the device once he went to a strange new Earth, where - misunderstanding the instructions that came with the device – he ejected that Earth’s version of himself along with the tetherporter, breaking it in the process. The turmoil to the space-time continuum caused the multiverse to re-shuffle itself, hurling Isaac into an Earth that could more readily handle his presence.

Once everything settled on this new Earth, Isaac found himself getting abducted by a group of aliens who were this sector’s Guardians or Protectors (no exact translation) of the spacetime continuum. Sensing an abnormality in a region where the dominant species had not yet developed the technology to be able to cause the aberration they found.

The aliens explained to him, in a very contemptuous fashion, what had happened. That all organisms have a destiny, a set place and role that can be mapped across all of four dimensional spacetime. That a tetherporter is a simplified device to allow for a safe, “idiotproof” traverse between 2 specific pre-set dimensions. When an organism is off-dimension, their path is held by a thread which pressures the being to return to their own dimension.

Through Isaac’s action, breaking the tetherporter, the odds of his returning to his own universe shrank in proportion to the size of the multiverse.

The multiverse is infinite.

His own actions had severed his “thread”. Isaac Fontaine became a man of no destiny. Destiny was one of the fundemental pillars of magic, as such he was not bound to the laws of magic. A man who lived outside of its purview.

Due to the potential for harm to the spacetime continuum that a being which doesn’t have a set place in the tapestry of destiny, the aliens were going to kill the Vigilante. Until he pointed out that their presence as a force suggested a specific end-date to the multiverse. Why have a devoted force policing spacetime if there was not a legitimate threat to all existence? He was able to convince the aliens to leave him on the “primitive mudball” of Earth (which “hadn’t even achieved the relatively minor civilization goals of solving the energy crisis, perpetual motion engines, lightspeed travel, or war”), as a wildcard to counter the big threat at the end of times that was the reason for their spacetime preservation force. When all things, even the multiverse have a pre-destined end… maybe a lowly being without a destiny could somehow have a use?

The aliens informed him that the universe he had now been thrown into was one that would be best adjusted to his presence. Things may have been a certain way for this universe’s previous version of him that best enable him to fit this universe. As if to highlight that fact, immediately after he’s returned to the Earth he’d receives a phone message from his childhood friend (who also handles his portfolio) Tony Morris; this universe’s version of Isaac had enrolled at LHU (in courses where lectures could be taken from online and his presence on campus wasn’t mandatory) as an alibi and cover story for his vigilante activities and presence in Lost Haven.

Isaac was also present during the Pax Metahumana incident. He has a shaky relationship with Arachne after shooting her with a bolt from his grapple gun whilst trying to determine which was the real Arachne in a standoff with the meta-mimic Effigy.

He is extremely protective of the hero Icon, for reasons which seem to stem from his home universe.

Last we saw, Isaac was attempting to trail Effigy, the sole loose end after the Pax Metahumana event, and stumbled upon tape of the group’s leader Doctor Diplodoc talking with a mysterious unknown old man with a hat and glasses.

Season 2 Summary:

Season Two

Hero Type:
Muscle - Brawler/Thinker

Power Level:
A. Street Level – But is capable of functioning on a B. City Level

Powers:

Powers

Technically non-powered human. That said… Inability to feel pain. Very minor healing factor that allows him to heal perhaps 50 percent faster than regular people.

A non-conductivity (or immunity, if you will) to magic. “Lucky”. The universe he’s been flung into seems somehow attuned to providing him some level of aid at times… but will sometimes pressure him into situations and places he really doesn’t want to go.

Attributes:

Attributes

Height: 5’ 11’’ and a half - Just barely over 6' feet with shoes on.

Weight: Was an amateur welterweight boxer in another world (which would have him around 145 pounds), but has put on natural weight to enable him to street fight with Terrarian thugs. Presently 180 pounds (80 kg)

Strength: Relatively strong human – but still human. One of the strongest pound-for-pound human punchers in the world. Pain is no factor which can push him beyond some regular human thresholds.

Mobility: Quicker over a few metres, rather than true straight-line track speed. Very agile for a regular human. Can throw himself around with reckless abandon due to inability to feel pain. Likewise, he’s faster over middle distances than most because that inability to feel pain means he doesn’t get as affected by the lactic acid burn – meaning he’ll maintain a sprint longer than most.

In short, if he’s chasing a criminal down an alley he’s likely to catch them more because he’s relentless than because he’s lightning quick.

Intelligence: Borderline genius by regular human terms. But it’s more based around his lifestyle.

Is he likely to win jeopardy? No. Can he read a crime scene, strategize, or read a suspect well enough to know exactly how to draw answers out in interrogation? Yes.

Fighting Skill: Self trained, with heavy influence from boxing experience. Heavily influenced by boxing where he gained experience as a high school amateur boxer. Will kick, but generally when opponent is exposed. More power than finesse, will occasionally break his own bones/harm himself trying to take out opponents. Knows some counters in other martial arts but is far from a master in any. Looks to intimidate. Not opposed to inflicting serious injury to self or opponents in combat. Better at fighting against knives than with one himself, since training low and he’s largely self-taught from a decade of crime-fighting. Not a good marksman due to his inexperience/fear of possible harm to innocent bystanders and largely abhors guns in general.

Resources: Large but not obscene to Bruce Wayne/Tony Stark/Danny Rand levels. Family was wealthy as father was banking high-up and left with vast inheritance. Rents numerous places in Lost Haven as “safe houses”, this allows/results in him living in a number of places and not really considering anywhere in this new city home.

Equipment
Nightsticks (previously jimmy-sticks), grappling hook gun/bolt gun (which he carries both piercing bolts and “concussion” dulled-head bolts), “flash-bang” grenades, balaklava, $500 in cash, spare cable/hooks, duct tape. Will occasionally carry light pack with other ordnance/equipment. At this point his equipment largely comes from a single ally (former Colonel “Gunny” Bracken) and what he has taken from criminals.

Weaknesses:
Poor marksman, but doesn’t really use firearms anyway – mainly affects use of grapple-gun. Is very intelligent, but needs it focused to be applicable. Quite (extremely) socially maladjusted; too frequently speaks his mind. Is only human in a world of superhumans. Inability to feel pain results in more serious injuries since he pushes his body to further and further extremes.

A non-conductivity to magic. This swings both positive and negative. Magical allies can not heal him, he can not transport via portals, etc. Likewise swinging both ways is his “Luck”, whilst the universe seems attuned to provide a suitable “fit” for Isaac, life does seem to drag him in all kinds of outrageously ridiculous directions. Directions he’d often rather not take or have to deal with.

Supporting Characters:

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:

Sample Post:

Vigilante

A figure dressed in black burst through the closet door, checking the colour of the paintwork to get his orientation.

Isaac had been going all night.

First, he made sure he lost any tail he may have picked up in case someone had eyes on the Hub. He’d gone through multiple parking garages, ditched his car, and used a ride share service after racing through a mall. He’d arranged to have himself dropped off five blocks from a spare car he kept in long term storage – just enough to ascertain he hadn’t picked up a secondary tail. He checked behind him, he checked the skies for helicopters or drones, and he kept his head down and away from shopfront security cameras. He’d used a fake ID in the Hub, so he knew that trail was covered. He drove to one of his safehouses and used the teleportation device, to send himself first back to Cooktown, Terraria where he got changed into his Vigilante gear, before he then went back to another random Lost Haven safehouse.

He was meticulously careful. He had to be. He knew he left a connection between two lives, and now he had to scrub it clean.

Now confident he’d shaken any would-be followers, he began to take other measures to ensure the security of his identity and the private life of the one who called himself Icon. Using Hack-tools he’d obtained from the White Rabbit he confirmed that the security cameras from the Hub had not been cloned. At least not yet. This was good. It meant that unless this group kept eyes on the Hub for HUMINT it was fairly safe to say that he was in the clear altogether.

Of course that wouldn’t mean he was all in the clear. If they do just maintain a presence and eyes on the venue, they could just photograph him as a person of interest for communicating with their target and plan to follow up on him later. He would come up with a cover story if approached… but ditching the car would add attention and draw greater scrutiny if that were the case.

Questions upon questions. Contingency upon contingency. With cover stories to suit. An identity protected by a meticulously sculpted group of lies. All designed to reflect a designed façade when scrutinized from any angle.

He considered Icon’s home. Should he make a pass? Check there weren’t eyes on that?

Then he second-guessed the thought which came from instinct.

No. He’d been uncomfortable enough with approaching him at his place of business. The last thing he’s going to want to see is that you know where he lives. How do you explain that if he spots you? Even if you are just checking nobody’s staking out his home.

Besides… How much of this is really about doing him a favour, and how much is just digging into how likely anyone could actually get a bead on you? Typical self-interest and obsessive self-preservation.

The sun was starting to show its face, so he made a spontaneous decision and decided to make another pass by Gunny’s house. He’d clearly shaken up the man earlier. Might as well put the old man’s mind at ease.

He grabbed his gear bag and jumped in the car. He drove out to the old Colonel’s suburban home and waited on his front lawn. Standing in front of a tree, to obscure sight of him from the street and neighbours. As the sun rose he saw the house become animated. Lights go on in windows upstairs, before off again, leading to lights going on downstairs. Presumably the inhabitants going from waking up, and getting dressed, before making their way downstairs for breakfast and to greet the day.

Eventually the front door opened as the old man shuffled out for the morning paper with his glasses on, presumably before having his morning coffee.

The Vigilante waved a half salute from the tree he was leaning on. The old man quickly startled by his presence. He wasn’t supposed to be here. And certainly not in the light of day.

“The Hell are you doing here?” The old Colonel growled. “That’s twice in hours.”

“Hmm. Thought I’d put your mind at ease after last night. You seemed concerned.”

“And you seemed anxious.” He replied sharply. “When violent people I give weapons to seem anxious, I seem concerned.”

The man in black chuckled. “We’ll try this again… Do you recognize the man in the photograph?” He handed over the now more wrinkled-from-handling photograph over to older man, who took it, made a passing glance and handed it back.

“I told you last night. It’s too blurry.”

The Vigilante nodded, and smiled a wry grin. “Yeah. I know. But you weren’t wearing your glasses last night, so that’s what I thought the issue was, but it wasn’t until later that I realized…”

“I’m near-sighted.” “You’re near-sighted.” They both said at once.

“You used prescription shooting glasses at the range. You never needed them for reading or looking at something like a photograph up close.”

The older man just shrugged. “So what’s your point?”

“The point is, you helped me more than either of us first thought. I just wasn’t paying attention close enough at the time.”

“So you’ve got him? The guy in the photo? You know who it is?”

A wry grin widened through the balaklava.

“No. But I’ve got a direction. And that’s all I’ve ever needed.” He walked back towards the street, before turning back to the old man who had now finally retrieved his morning paper.

“Just thought you deserved to know. Now I’ve got work to do.”

Post Catalog:

Season 1

Post 1

Post 2

Post 3

Post 4

Post 5

Post 6

Post 7

Post 8

Post 9 with (NMS)

Post 10 with (NMS)

Post 11 with (NMS)

Post 12

Post 13

Post 14

Post 15

Post 16

Post 17

Post 18

Season 2

Post 1

Post 2

Post 3

Post 4

Post 5

Post 6

Post 7

Post 8

Post 9

Post 10

Post 11 with (NMS)

Post 12

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Link to Season 3 Thread