Korkoa

Avatar: The Last Airbender RP

Interested!

Heroes Reborn - A DCAU Roleplay (Always open!)

2:28 AM, December 25th
Conowingdo Dam, Maryland

Aquaman rocketed out of the water as he felt the earth shake from the Titan's fall. Thanks to his enhanced speed, the Atlantean made it to the rest of the group in only a moment, time enough to answer Grim's question in person. "Affirmative Grim, stable. I must admit, this was an incredibly effective plan." Orin said, watching the others gather around the monstrous form of the prone foe.

It wasn't until the green one spoke up that Orin gave him much notice. He recognized the man, he had seen him during the incident in the Middle East, but the two had never stopped to speak. Up close now though... It was obvious to Orin who these 'bosses' of Emerald Knight were. The Green Lantern Corps, headed by the Guardians of Oa. In its heyday, Atlantis had a thriving space exploration program, and had been made aware of the Lanterns and their laws early into their expeditions. Now it seemed Earth had its own verdant guardian.

"If I may, my glowing green friend;" Orin said, stepping forward. "I think this particular threat is of a... Terrestrial scale. I see no need to involve bigger authorities here, especially now that we've proven that between us, we can defend against them pretty handily."

Local, Organic, Freerange Superheroes

Overclock/3:00 am
King's Station, bordering Ross Park
Interacting with: @Simple Unicycle

Overclock jumped in surprise at the surprise grappling hook, the gangbangers reacting similarly as one of their buddies was dragged away screaming. Overclock braced himself again, watching as a figure emerged from the alley... Overclock recognized the face of Mr. Nil. He had spent some time browsing VigilanteWatch, and Nil's look was pretty unique, like a Terminator that stepped out of the 50's. Listening to his quippy one-liner though, Overclock had to grin. The Terminator was on his side.

"Don't mind if I do, friend. I could use a nice, easy warmup." Overclock retorted before springing forward at the nearest D-Gen member. The gun came up and Overclock was momentarily blinded and deafened by the flash and shot, but the bullet simply dropped away from him as the energy harmlessly transferred. Letting out a short laugh, the masked vigilante swung his staff in a wide arc, the end flashing with newly stored energy. The staff connected with a sickening 'CRACK' and the gun-toting gangbanger was lifted off his feet and flew through the air to crash into a newspaper stand across the street.

"Woo, it feels good to cut loose!" Overclock cried with a hidden grin as he turned back to face the remaining two opponents.

Local, Organic, Freerange Superheroes

Overclock, 2:57 am
King Station, bordering Ross Park

((Warning: Adult language))

Overclock skulked around the darkened entrance to an alley as he kept an eye on the poorly lit street separating King Station from the Park. About fifty feet away, the porch light of a 24-hour convenience store flickered, catching his eye. Overclock considered stepping into the shop to get out of the rain, which by now had soaked through his clothes. He could get a hot drink, a protein bar... Or a candy bar, he could afford some chocolate/peanut-buttery goodness... Of course, that would mean having to be seen by the acne-ridden kid manning the graveyard shift, and possibly getting the cops called on him for either illegal vigilantism or suspected gang activity, considering his outfit. But on a night like tonight, maybe it'd be worth it to get run off this street...

Overclock snapped to attention as a pair of headlights rolled up to the stoplight just past the convenience store, crossing from the Park into the Station. It rolled slowly around the corner, the bright beams nearly catching Overclock before he ducked back into his alley hiding spot. Judging by the undercarriage lights, lifted cab, and the gang-related detailing; this had to be the D-Gens. Patrolling the edges of their turf, most likely. But now they had crossed into the Station, probably just to cut through and find a shortcut, but that was semantics. They were across the line. That was his cue.

As the car rolled up by the alleyway, Overclock sprinted out to plant himself in front of the car. The brakes squealed too late, as Overclock watched the car close the gap between its bumper and his legs. When the car hit though, instead of knocking down the masked man it simply... Stopped. Even the occupants of the car, none of whom were wearing their seatbelts, didn't move much, all the kinetic energy of the car suddenly being sapped away into the human battery in front of them. The four delinquents stared in slight shock at the hooded figure in front of their car before the drover swore and leaned on the horn.

"Yo muthafucker! Get the fuck outta the street you fuck! Quit touchin' my fuckin' car! You deaf or somethin'?! MOVE!"

Overclock grinned beneath his bandana, slipping a hand into a pocket and pulling out one of his rubber bands. He took a step back and listened to the driver rev his engine as he closed the gap again, clearly trying to intimidate him. Overclock hooked the band around a finger on his prosthetic, and grabbed it with his other hand. Raising the improvised and normally harmless projectile, Overclock chuckled as he charged it with stored energy, the rubber flashing a dull purple briefly before he aimed it at the windshield... And shot.

A pair of ear-piercing crashed filled the soaked streets, echoing down the alleys and off buildings. The windshield of the D-Gen's car had shattered, the band actually passing through and blowing out the rear window as well.There was a chorus of panicked screams from the four gang members as they abandoned the car, each or them brandishing pistols as they turned on him. Overclock tensed andreached for his staff...

This was about to get fun.

Local, Organic, Freerange Superheroes

Overclock/Male/24/Hero
Graves apartment/Kings Station/2:45 AM

Jon Graves started awake as his phone buzzed off the short nightstand to fall to the floor. Swearing under his breath, Jon grabbed the offending device and turned off the alarm. Squinting into the darkness, the young man sat up on his mattress, sighing as he looked out the window to the low light of the dead-of-night city. No stars tonight. Weatherman said it might rain. No matter. There was work to do.

Reaching over to a nearby charging port, Jon unhooked his prosthetic arm from the charger and began to affix it to his stump. The advanced prosthetic had been a gift from the surgeon who had worked on Jon after the accident; upon hearing their family's financial situation the doctor had set up a fund so that Jon could afford prosthetics when he needed them. Upon the young man's decision to embark upon this nighttime life of vigilantism, Jon had emptied the fund and bought the most advanced arm available. He'd needed the best tools. Finally finished, Jon flexed his mechanical fingers and stood up, kicking his mattress aside to get at the supplies underneath.

A set of dark clothes, a purple bandana wrapped around his face, and a dark purple hoodie later, Overclock lit his desk lamp and checked himself in his mirror. The only remarkable feature left were his icy blue eyes. Slipping on his black boots, Overclock patted his hoodie pocket to confirm his staff was folded down and stored away. Finally he stood up, pulling on a single black glove over his flesh-hand before moving to his window and stepping out onto the fire escape.

Looking down at the alley below, Overclock sighed as he stretched his arms. Time to crack some skulls till the sun came up, then to sneak back home and get ready for the office life. But for now... Now he could do whatever he wanted.

Overclock stepped off the edge of the fire escape into open air.

Twisting and tumbling through the air, Overclock grinned as he felt the wind sting his eyes. Flipping over quickly, he landed on his feet in the alley below, feeling his muscles suddenly charge with absorbed energy. Chuckling to himself, the young man sprinted out of the alley, heading for the line between King and Ross, his job for the night to keep his block safe from the gangs and drugs bleeding over from the slums...

Local, Organic, Freerange Superheroes

Jonathan Graves

Name: Jonathan Graves

Alias: Overclock

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Alliance: Hero (Flexible morals)

Appearance:

Occupation: Office Assistant

Family: Emma Graves (Sister), Johan Graves (Father)

Personality: Jon is often cold upon his first meeting. He keeps very professional and businesslike, often not exchanging many words at all. Once he begins to warm up to a person however, another side of him comes out. Jon will begin smiling and joking more, engaging in conversation and sharing stories of his life. He doesn't have many people he would consider a friend, but those he does he would give his life for.

Enemies, on the other hand, see a completely reversed Jon. They see someone who will sit and take a beating, any punishment they can dole out while laughing in their face. Criminals know fear as Overclock begins to taunt them as he gets up and uses the force of their own blows to beat them senseless. Those who seek to do him harm see a cold, hard face with an icy stare before a booted sole darkens their vision, sometimes for the last time.

Powers/Abilities: Jon describes himself as an 'energy vampire'. He can absorb, deflect, and redirect different types of energy, and by 'charging' his weapons with stored energy he can make his hits much harder. For example, if he were to absorb the energy of a car wreck, charge his staff with it, and hit you with the staff, it would be as if you were hit by the force of the staff driven by a car. He can also charge objects with different types of energy as well, giving them different properties when they're released, or the energy reaches its limit.

The two types of energy Jon is able to absorb are detailed below

-Kinetic: Kinetic energy is the most common type of energy Jon uses, as it's the first he discovered, and the one with the least benefit to him. This allows him to absorb the energy of a physical attack he is aware of, rendering it null, and redirecting the attack by charging his weapons with it, essentially hitting you with your own force.

-Heat: By storing energy from fire or heat from the surrounding air, Jon can enhance his physical toughness, making it more difficult to be hurt. He becomes hot to the touch while storing this energy. Using this energy for an attack manifests in a fire attack.

This power also comes with an inherent weakness, the more energy Overclock stores, the more quickly it becomes unstable. Unstable energy will cause Jon immense pain, and finally reach a critical failing point, resulting in an explosive breakdown of energy wherever it's stored, to disastrous results.

Other Skills: Jon has learned how to fight, though not in any particular style. More the 'jump and run' tactics young gang members often use on the streets, with the major exception being: Jon doesn't run.

Jon has an above-average understanding of technology, and can familiarize himself with a new computer quite quickly.

Jon is a mediocre baseball player, and is a good violin player.

Equipment: Jon carries a folding staff that fits into his pocket when he folds it down. He carries a pocket full of rubber bands.

Bio: Jon was born into a poor immigrant family from Europe, who wanted nothing more than to see their boy become a famous American baseball player (Which is, of course, the American dream). His life was dominated by the sport, from playing catch with his father in the back yard using stones when they couldn't afford a new ball, to joining a local little league team as soon as he was big enough. Jon's family had always been low on money, but his mother and father managed to scrape together everything he needed for the team. Unfortunately, it seemed Jon was doomed to a life of mediocre sports talent. He never really shone on the field, making a few nice plays and a good hit here or there, but not reaching the standards his parents hoped he would.

Jon's life changed for the first time at the age of 12. During one of the final baseball games of the season, he stood a bit too close to the plate in an ill-planned effort to hit the ball with more force. His left hand was struck by the pitch, a fastball right to his knuckles, though Jon felt no pain. He soon forgot the incident however, until a week or two later, when his hand began to ache. Not able to afford a doctor, his parents looked at it, said it seemed fine, and wrapped it with soft cloth, to try and sooth the paid. Soon after, Jon's hand literally exploded in a flash of purple, the decaying energy from the baseball weeks prior finally taking its toll. The family was introduced to one of the facets of the 'American Dream'; privatized healthcare. The bills from the hospitals, all the tests done, and getting even the cheapest prosthetic they could find all but bankrupted the family. Both parents was forced to take another job just to survive, and that was when Jon's life changed again.

Late one night, walking home form work in an attempt to save money on bus fare, Jon's mother was jumped by a group of muggers. Desperately trying to defend her hard-earned money, she fought back against her attackers, who decided it was easier to simply pull a knife. Jon got the news before leaving for school the next day; his mother had been killed. This sent the boy's father into a spiraling depression, he barely ate or slept, and stopped talking to anybody at all. Jon did everything he could to help, but his father was left a broken shell of a man. Soon after, Jon swore vengeance on the criminals of his city, vowing to use his newfound powers to destroy the people who had taken both his parents from him and ruined his life.

Local, Organic, Freerange Superheroes

Alright, pared it down to kinetic and heat. How does it look now?

Local, Organic, Freerange Superheroes

I really like the look of this RP, I'd like to join in! Let me know if I need to change anything!

Jonathan Graves

Name: Jonathan Graves

Alias: Overclock

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Alliance: Hero (Flexible morals)

Appearance:

Occupation: Office Assistant

Family: Emma Graves (Sister), Johan Graves (Father)

Personality: Jon is often cold upon his first meeting. He keeps very professional and businesslike, often not exchanging many words at all. Once he begins to warm up to a person however, another side of him comes out. Jon will begin smiling and joking more, engaging in conversation and sharing stories of his life. He doesn't have many people he would consider a friend, but those he does he would give his life for.

Enemies, on the other hand, see a completely reversed Jon. They see someone who will sit and take a beating, any punishment they can dole out while laughing in their face. Criminals know fear as Overclock begins to taunt them as he gets up and uses the force of their own blows to beat them senseless. Those who seek to do him harm see a cold, hard face with an icy stare before a booted sole darkens their vision, sometimes for the last time.

Powers/Abilities: Jon describes himself as an 'energy vampire'. He can absorb, deflect, and redirect different types of energy, and by 'charging' his weapons with stored energy he can make his hits much harder. For example, if he were to absorb the energy of a car wreck, charge his staff with it, and hit you with the staff, it would be as if you were hit by the force of the staff driven by a car. He can also charge objects with different types of energy as well, giving them different properties when they're released, or the energy reaches its limit.

The two types of energy Jon is able to absorb are detailed below

-Kinetic: Kinetic energy is the most common type of energy Jon uses, as it's the first he discovered, and the one with the least benefit to him. This allows him to absorb the energy of a physical attack he is aware of, rendering it null, and redirecting the attack by charging his weapons with it, essentially hitting you with your own force.

-Heat: By storing energy from fire or heat from the surrounding air, Jon can enhance his physical toughness, making it more difficult to be hurt. He becomes hot to the touch while storing this energy. Using this energy for an attack manifests in a fire attack.

This power also comes with an inherent weakness, the more energy Overclock stores, the more quickly it becomes unstable. Unstable energy will cause Jon immense pain, and finally reach a critical failing point, resulting in an explosive breakdown of energy wherever it's stored, to disastrous results.

Other Skills: Jon has learned how to fight, though not in any particular style. More the 'jump and run' tactics young gang members often use on the streets, with the major exception being: Jon doesn't run.

Jon has an above-average understanding of technology, and can familiarize himself with a new computer quite quickly.

Jon is a mediocre baseball player, and is a good violin player.

Equipment: Jon carries a folding staff that fits into his pocket when he folds it down. He carries a pocket full of rubber bands.

Bio: Jon was born into a poor immigrant family from Europe, who wanted nothing more than to see their boy become a famous American baseball player (Which is, of course, the American dream). His life was dominated by the sport, from playing catch with his father in the back yard using stones when they couldn't afford a new ball, to joining a local little league team as soon as he was big enough. Jon's family had always been low on money, but his mother and father managed to scrape together everything he needed for the team. Unfortunately, it seemed Jon was doomed to a life of mediocre sports talent. He never really shone on the field, making a few nice plays and a good hit here or there, but not reaching the standards his parents hoped he would.

Jon's life changed for the first time at the age of 12. During one of the final baseball games of the season, he stood a bit too close to the plate in an ill-planned effort to hit the ball with more force. His left hand was struck by the pitch, a fastball right to his knuckles, though Jon felt no pain. He soon forgot the incident however, until a week or two later, when his hand began to ache. Not able to afford a doctor, his parents looked at it, said it seemed fine, and wrapped it with soft cloth, to try and sooth the paid. Soon after, Jon's hand literally exploded in a flash of purple, the decaying energy from the baseball weeks prior finally taking its toll. The family was introduced to one of the facets of the 'American Dream'; privatized healthcare. The bills from the hospitals, all the tests done, and getting even the cheapest prosthetic they could find all but bankrupted the family. Both parents was forced to take another job just to survive, and that was when Jon's life changed again.

Late one night, walking home form work in an attempt to save money on bus fare, Jon's mother was jumped by a group of muggers. Desperately trying to defend her hard-earned money, she fought back against her attackers, who decided it was easier to simply pull a knife. Jon got the news before leaving for school the next day; his mother had been killed. This sent the boy's father into a spiraling depression, he barely ate or slept, and stopped talking to anybody at all. Jon did everything he could to help, but his father was left a broken shell of a man. Soon after, Jon swore vengeance on the criminals of his city, vowing to use his newfound powers to destroy the people who had taken both his parents from him and ruined his life.

Heroes Reborn - A DCAU Roleplay (Always open!)

October 20, 2020
6:00 PM PST
Gold Coast Estates, Coast City CA

Jessie stared at the projected image on the otherwise blank wall, watching the live news feed intently as confusion mounted in her city. Not just Coast City, but every major population center. Corpses rising from the morgues, the funeral homes, cemeteries, and all starting to roam the streets. It didn't make any sense! What possible scientific explanation could there be for walking corpses?! A virus seemed unlikely what with how widespread the outbreak was, and reports were starting to trickle in from other nations too so it likely wasn't some kind of attack. A metahuman maybe? Someone who could control the dead? But how could they do it with this many, and so widespread? As much as Jessie hated to entertain the possibility, this concept of 'magic' that had been floating around since Lady Arcana had shown up almost made sense... But if magic truly was real, there had to be a way to quantify it. But for that, she'd need samples.

Throwing on her cloak and grabbing her hoverboard, Jessie sent out a text message to Echo and Vox; "Bagging zombie bits, be back soon!" before settling her goggles over her face and rushing out the door. The board clicked satisfyingly into place on her boots and the girl was off like a rocket, streaking above the well-kept lawns and streets of the rich suburb before arcing higher and beelining for her old neighborhood: The Block and Northgate Park.

------------------------------------------------------

A few moments of flying later, and Jessie's goal was in sight. Reaching up to tap the side of her goggles, the inventor grinned as the displays lit up and her vision turned green. She knew the lenses of her goggles were now emitting an obscuring green light, making her face harder to identify, and with her eye-tracking software she could control the telescopic zoom for her teleporting, as well as aspects of her hoverboard. Jessie could see the green stretch of grass and trees, the conspicuous wound in the otherwise uniform layout of streets and buildings. This would be the spot. Large gatherings of people, nearby hospital and cemetery, and lots of shambling space. And speaking of shambling, Lightning Bug could see a few of them now, trying to chase down some tourists!

Swooping down out of the air, Lightning Bug activated the repulsor mode on her board, essentially sending into an autopilot so she could focus on the half-dozen corpses stumbling their way towards fresh meat. She cracked her knuckles and grinned at the popping of electrical sparks that flew from her hands as she did so. A sharp whistle, and a few rotting heads turned in her direction. "Come on now, that doesn't seem fair at all!" She taunted, motioning towards the fleeing tourists. "I mean they wouldn't stand a chance, with their fanny packs and sun visors! Why don't you go after a real challenge, huh?" She said with a grin before turning her outstretched fingers in the direction of the group of zombies.

In an adrenaline-filled instant, time seemed to slow for Lightning Bug. She could feel the air at her fingertips warm as electricity arced between her fingers. A near-invisible streak of ionized air shot from her hands, slicing through the air towards the zombies. Milliseconds later, electricity bursting from her exposed fingertips, arcing and leaping through the ionized path and striking the zombies head on. Enough of a charge to fry whatever was left of their brains, most likely. And yet, the group seemed mostly unfazed... Apart from some charred flesh and smoking hair, the group of undead seemed... Well, undead. And were now advancing on the girl.

"Hm... Well, that could have gone better." Lightning Bug said, backing her board up as she plotted her next move...

One Piece: The Romance of Blackfin (OPEN)

Gunner/Marksman/Sniper: Deckard Jackson

Name: Deckard Jackson

Gender: Male

Age: 18

Species: Human

Height: 6'2"

Weight: 190 lbs

Appearance:

Deckard

Devil Fruit(if any): None

Weapons:
-Twin pistols: Deckard has a pair of customized six-shooters, built by himself with the help of his mentor. They are designed to be faster, more accurate, and have a longer range than the standard flintlock pistol one is likely to find with most pirates. They use Deckard's custom ammunition a cartridge style shot containing everything needed to fire without loading the barrel with black powder, wadding, shot, etc.
-The Messenger: Deckard's newest invention, still in a state of flux. A long ranged rifle with a magnifying lens, designed to shoot over distances unheard of for a flintlock rifle. It carries only a single shot, but has immense power behind it, and can be reloaded quickly due to the same cartridge style shots the pistols use. (Though these cartridges are of a higher caliber.)

Skills:
-Negotiation: Deckard is well versed in the schools of charm and charisma, having been taught from a young age that honey catches more flies than oil. Though he prefers to be transparent and not waste time, he does see the benefit of the occasional honeyed word to grease the wheels.
-Smithing: Due to his apprenticeship at the cities best blacksmith, Deckard has a basic understanding of forges and the tools used within
-Tinkering: Thanks to his fascination with moving parts and cause-and-effect, Deckard has taught himself how to tinker with gears and smaller tools.
-Photographic mind: Due to years of tinkering and taking things apart, Deckard has trained himself to memorize any device he is able to take apart. One he has his hands on a device, he is able to deconstruct it and rebuild it to the exact specifications as before, as well as improve on inferior designs if any exist.
-Shooting: Deckard has trained with firearms for years, and has begun using his own inventions on the ranges with great success.

Background: Hailing from the elite Jackson family of Westpike Island, Deckard grew up in what many would consider the lap of luxury. The only son to the island's Guildmaster, Elder Jackson, Deckard was expected from a young age to take over his fathers work in running the day-to-day business of the city. Through an endless monotony of classes and lectures, Deckard took solace in the few free moments he had a child, indulging in stories of adventurers and swashbuckling heroes. He took a particular liking to those heroes who carried guns and commanded battles from range, and by the time he was old enough to begin training in self-defense, he had decided to train as a Gunslinger. For a time, the routine worked well for the boy. Classes and study, lectures and lessons from his father, and training with experienced fighters and soldiers. Deckard taught himself how to take apart and rebuild each gun that was brought to him, well enough that he could do it in his sleep.

Once he was old enough, Deckard's father brought him to be apprenticed in the city, to learn a trade and learn firsthand how a business is run. Due to his interest in tinkering, the Elder Jackson apprenticed his son to Aiden, the cities Master Blacksmith. The pair hit it off immediately, with Deckard eager to learn how the forge worked and the process of creating tools and materials. Aiden and Deckard found even more of a like soul in each other when they discovered their shared interests in guns, with Aiden showing the young Jackson his own designs and ideas for improvements on the flintlock design. Over the next several years, Deckard spent more and more time at Aiden's forge as the pair worked on honing and refining the designs into something workable. Guildmaster Jackson however, was less than pleased with this development, as he felt his son was straying too far from the concept of learning how to govern the city, and finding himself entrenched in minutia. Ignoring his fathers demands, Deckard pressed on, eventually creating the first prototype of his pistols.

Then, tragedy struck. Aiden's forge was burned to the ground one night, leaving nothing behind but a smoking crater and evidence of several explosions and fast-burning fires. What few witnesses there were claimed they had seen Aiden experimenting with the black powder he kept around, and that the man must have left it too close to the forge. This explanation didn't sit right with Deckard, however. He had known Aiden for years, worked closely with the man. Though he did keep black power in the shop, Aiden knew not to let it near the forge itself. The both of them had witnessed firsthand how volatile the powder was. Deckard believed that there was no way Aiden could have been so stupid as to simply leave black powder where it could ignite. There was something deeper at play here. That thought began to consume Deckard, drive him even further into his work. Someone was trying to stop the work he and Aiden were doing, and that meant Deckard had to finish it, no matter how loudly his father yelled at him to let it go. Eventually however, the tensions came to a head, and Guildmaster Jackson told his son that he could have either his birthright, or his work.

Deckard packed up and left that night. He had saved enough from his time with Aiden to rent out a small room in a busy part of town, and there we could continue to tinker in peace, constantly improving and perfecting his designs, and piecing together a theory of who might have killed his friend...