Ezekiel
Natty
Gormby
Dirge
Eddie Brock
Sep
Kalas
RPM
Mao Mao
CyberladSomeone tell Wraith to stop suggesting I should join, my word.
i might actually at this rate
One of us! One of us!
Lord Wraith
Member
Thunderbringer
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
Reluctantly retired roleplayer.
Except when I'm not.
Why are you here when you should be writing posts?
You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.
Except when I'm not.
Why are you here when you should be writing posts?
You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.
Most Recent Posts
One of us! One of us!
P A S T
G O T H A M C I T Y:
June 23rd, 2018 - 18:27 | Archie Goodwin International Airport - Outskirts of Gotham
Gotham had a certain smell.
Rose knew it as soon as she had stepped off the aircraft. The familiar air, laden with the smell of corroded metal oozing out of ancient steam pipes that gave the city a sense of life, allowing the streets beneath her feet to freely breathe. They exhaled, a painful hiss echoing through the tight alleyways as a new cloud of steam rose to meet the cold night air. Gotham’s seemingly perpetual fog hung low over the city as Rose collected her luggage from the private charter and departed Archie Goodwin International.
The decision to come back to Gotham had been a somewhat inspired one, but not one easily made. For years Rose had been haunted by this city, the cost of living here at been too high as a child. But after all the lives she had seen broken by the lack of a parent, more specifically a mother, Rose had returned to the city that had cost her the life of her own mother.
The Batman was growing old, Rose wasn’t dumb. While she might not have been the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ even she could piece together that the Bat was only human. Her father had told her such. And if Batman wasn’t able to protect Gotham, then someone would need to.
For some reason, that idea called to her.
Her father had long suspected the true identity of the Bat, in his last days he had divulged his suspicions to Rose. It was rather underwhelming and all together predictable but Rose had to find out for herself.
If Bruce Wayne was the Batman.
Slade had safe-houses around the globe. Rose couldn’t blame him, an international assassin wanted in nearly every country, she would do the same in the her father’s shoes. He had after all taught her to, and Gotham, was no exception to the rule as Rose had discovered. Located only blocks from where she had lived with her mother, Slade had used the safehouse to keep an eye on his daughter and while the assassin rarely found himself in Gotham due to the presence of the big, bad, Bat, Wintergreen had lived here for several years.
His cologne still lingered in the air, Rose noted as the door creaked open. The dimly lit hallway shone into the penthouse apartment, illuminating a sliver of the rather spartan interior. Neither Wintergreen nor her father had ever desired comfort. Just a cot to sleep when necessary and a place to store spare munitions and weapons.
Speaking of weapons.
Rose opened the closet, a low whistle escaping her pursed lips as she picked up the closest rifle to her. Despite the years, the weapons were in pristine condition, if anything it confirmed Rose’s suspicions that Wintergreen was still out there somewhere, operating on his own.
Brushing her silver hair back, Rose removed her eye patch as she pulled her cellphone from the back pocket of her ripped jeans. Googling Bruce Wayne brought up more results than Rose would have ever cared to browse. Billionaire playboys were hardly exciting to Rose, men who dressed up as giant bats, that at least made her want to uncross her legs.
Ever the fashionably late, Wayne had arrived to the gala with the same gimmicks as he always had. Supermodels on either arm, with a supermodel on their spare arm. It was utterly predictable, rehearsed even and it was the primary reason why Rose had chosen to indulge Slade’s hunch.
Stripping out of her civilian clothes, Rose pulled the chainlink mail over her chest, before strapping on the kevlar pants and holstering her weapons. Climbing out of the window, no doubt designed by Slade and Wintergreen for this exact purpose, Rose took off across the rooftops towards Gotham Heights.
Using the combined efforts of her metahuman abilities and energized bo-staff, Rose vaulted from rooftop to car roof, to rooftop again across the city before arriving outside the Kane Ballroom. Laying down on the flat, gravel rooftop of the adjacent building, Rose pulled her carbine rifle from her back, placing the telescopic scope against her good eye as she observed the gala’s attendants.
It was then everything got interesting.
Within seconds of locating Bruce Wayne, the building lost power and as the emergency lights came on, none other than Gotham’s Dark Knight had the billionaire playboy at his mercy. Rose felt a lurch in her stomach as the two men she had come to prove were the same were suddenly in the same room. Deathstroke was rarely wrong, even more so when it came to reading a person.
“So let’s fuckin’ see if you are the Bat.” Rose muttered to herself as she moved the barrel of the gun, the shot aligned perfectly for the Batman’s shoulder as she pulled the trigger.
Rose knew it as soon as she had stepped off the aircraft. The familiar air, laden with the smell of corroded metal oozing out of ancient steam pipes that gave the city a sense of life, allowing the streets beneath her feet to freely breathe. They exhaled, a painful hiss echoing through the tight alleyways as a new cloud of steam rose to meet the cold night air. Gotham’s seemingly perpetual fog hung low over the city as Rose collected her luggage from the private charter and departed Archie Goodwin International.
The decision to come back to Gotham had been a somewhat inspired one, but not one easily made. For years Rose had been haunted by this city, the cost of living here at been too high as a child. But after all the lives she had seen broken by the lack of a parent, more specifically a mother, Rose had returned to the city that had cost her the life of her own mother.
The Batman was growing old, Rose wasn’t dumb. While she might not have been the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ even she could piece together that the Bat was only human. Her father had told her such. And if Batman wasn’t able to protect Gotham, then someone would need to.
For some reason, that idea called to her.
Her father had long suspected the true identity of the Bat, in his last days he had divulged his suspicions to Rose. It was rather underwhelming and all together predictable but Rose had to find out for herself.
If Bruce Wayne was the Batman.
Slade had safe-houses around the globe. Rose couldn’t blame him, an international assassin wanted in nearly every country, she would do the same in the her father’s shoes. He had after all taught her to, and Gotham, was no exception to the rule as Rose had discovered. Located only blocks from where she had lived with her mother, Slade had used the safehouse to keep an eye on his daughter and while the assassin rarely found himself in Gotham due to the presence of the big, bad, Bat, Wintergreen had lived here for several years.
His cologne still lingered in the air, Rose noted as the door creaked open. The dimly lit hallway shone into the penthouse apartment, illuminating a sliver of the rather spartan interior. Neither Wintergreen nor her father had ever desired comfort. Just a cot to sleep when necessary and a place to store spare munitions and weapons.
Speaking of weapons.
Rose opened the closet, a low whistle escaping her pursed lips as she picked up the closest rifle to her. Despite the years, the weapons were in pristine condition, if anything it confirmed Rose’s suspicions that Wintergreen was still out there somewhere, operating on his own.
Brushing her silver hair back, Rose removed her eye patch as she pulled her cellphone from the back pocket of her ripped jeans. Googling Bruce Wayne brought up more results than Rose would have ever cared to browse. Billionaire playboys were hardly exciting to Rose, men who dressed up as giant bats, that at least made her want to uncross her legs.
Ever the fashionably late, Wayne had arrived to the gala with the same gimmicks as he always had. Supermodels on either arm, with a supermodel on their spare arm. It was utterly predictable, rehearsed even and it was the primary reason why Rose had chosen to indulge Slade’s hunch.
Stripping out of her civilian clothes, Rose pulled the chainlink mail over her chest, before strapping on the kevlar pants and holstering her weapons. Climbing out of the window, no doubt designed by Slade and Wintergreen for this exact purpose, Rose took off across the rooftops towards Gotham Heights.
Using the combined efforts of her metahuman abilities and energized bo-staff, Rose vaulted from rooftop to car roof, to rooftop again across the city before arriving outside the Kane Ballroom. Laying down on the flat, gravel rooftop of the adjacent building, Rose pulled her carbine rifle from her back, placing the telescopic scope against her good eye as she observed the gala’s attendants.
It was then everything got interesting.
Within seconds of locating Bruce Wayne, the building lost power and as the emergency lights came on, none other than Gotham’s Dark Knight had the billionaire playboy at his mercy. Rose felt a lurch in her stomach as the two men she had come to prove were the same were suddenly in the same room. Deathstroke was rarely wrong, even more so when it came to reading a person.
“So let’s fuckin’ see if you are the Bat.” Rose muttered to herself as she moved the barrel of the gun, the shot aligned perfectly for the Batman’s shoulder as she pulled the trigger.
For all of those who venture into Gotham and not the Discord, this is the map I've been using to reference locations.
Added my CS to the Character Thread plus a separate hider containing her weapons and another hider to potentially add updates (such as relationships with PCs & completed story arc summaries) to my character without changing the original CS.
And stealing lol.
Great idea, I like it.
Please, you guys, take it up with the GM. I hope this was the end. But just in case someone was still planning on adding to the pile:
I do believe the hate on AngelofOctober has gone a bit too far (or maybe just lasted too long), regardless of his arguments and CS. Be respectful everyone, please.
P R E S E N T
Part 1
G O T H A M C I T Y:
May 15th, 2019 - 23:48 | Alley off of 5th Avenue - Burnside
Cold sweat ran down the man’s face as he grabbed a hold of the nearby lamp post, using the pillar to guide him around a sharp corner as he scrambled into the nearby alley. A purse hung from his hand, his grip white-knuckled around the strap as he continued to run, his lungs burning, feet aching as he body fought against his mind to stop running. Fear and adrenaline were his reflex now as the scalloped shadow from above descended upon the alley.
A gun was firmly grasped in his other hand as he began to fire shot after shot. Anything that appeared to move or rustle in the pale moonlight was met with a stray bullet haphazardly fired in its direction until no sound remained in the dark alley but the click of an empty magazine.
The silenced washed over the man filling him with a false sense of relief until a voice broke the stillness of the night.
“You’re empty, motherfucker.”
A gunshot rang out as the man’s own weapon fell from his hand. The clatter seemed to echoed as the man cried out in agony, a white hot searing pain penetrated his hand in the same manner as the bullet that caused the injury. Falling to his knees, the man dropped the purse as he clutched his bleeding hand, the warm trickling of the crimson liquid sending sensations of nausea through his stomach while he struggled to remain conscious.
The shadowed figure descended upon the quickly fading man. The pointed ears and long billowing cape denying an accurate image of the figure’s true shape as she approached the small, a smoking gun in one hand while a second was outstretched towards him. Trembling in fear, the man closed his eyes as the cold muzzle of the outstretched gun was pressed forcefully against his forehead.
”Do you know who the fuck I am?”
“Y-y-you’re the B-Batg-”
“I’m the justice you can’t fuckin’ run from.” The shadowed figure snarled as the gun was suddenly pulled away only for the flash of the muzzle to burn the man’s ear as sound left his world, replaced by a constant ringing.
“Next time I fuckin’ catch you out here, it’s your last!” The so-called ‘Batgirl’ yelled in the man’s remaining good ear before moving the gun to the other side of his head and firing again.
Suddenly the hole in his hand was the least of his problems as the man doubled over, a hand clutching either side of his head as the contents of his stomach emptied themselves from either end.
A brush of air moved past his head as the Batgirl ascended to the rooftops of Burnside, the flashes of red and blue reflecting across the nearby store fronts assured her that the gunshots had attracted the proper authorities to the scene. There was no doubt in Rose’s mind that the man wouldn’t steal another purse for as long as he lived.
Which admittedly if the Batgirl caught him again, wouldn’t be long.
A gun was firmly grasped in his other hand as he began to fire shot after shot. Anything that appeared to move or rustle in the pale moonlight was met with a stray bullet haphazardly fired in its direction until no sound remained in the dark alley but the click of an empty magazine.
The silenced washed over the man filling him with a false sense of relief until a voice broke the stillness of the night.
“You’re empty, motherfucker.”
A gunshot rang out as the man’s own weapon fell from his hand. The clatter seemed to echoed as the man cried out in agony, a white hot searing pain penetrated his hand in the same manner as the bullet that caused the injury. Falling to his knees, the man dropped the purse as he clutched his bleeding hand, the warm trickling of the crimson liquid sending sensations of nausea through his stomach while he struggled to remain conscious.
The shadowed figure descended upon the quickly fading man. The pointed ears and long billowing cape denying an accurate image of the figure’s true shape as she approached the small, a smoking gun in one hand while a second was outstretched towards him. Trembling in fear, the man closed his eyes as the cold muzzle of the outstretched gun was pressed forcefully against his forehead.
”Do you know who the fuck I am?”
“Y-y-you’re the B-Batg-”
“I’m the justice you can’t fuckin’ run from.” The shadowed figure snarled as the gun was suddenly pulled away only for the flash of the muzzle to burn the man’s ear as sound left his world, replaced by a constant ringing.
“Next time I fuckin’ catch you out here, it’s your last!” The so-called ‘Batgirl’ yelled in the man’s remaining good ear before moving the gun to the other side of his head and firing again.
Suddenly the hole in his hand was the least of his problems as the man doubled over, a hand clutching either side of his head as the contents of his stomach emptied themselves from either end.
A brush of air moved past his head as the Batgirl ascended to the rooftops of Burnside, the flashes of red and blue reflecting across the nearby store fronts assured her that the gunshots had attracted the proper authorities to the scene. There was no doubt in Rose’s mind that the man wouldn’t steal another purse for as long as he lived.
Which admittedly if the Batgirl caught him again, wouldn’t be long.
<Snipped quote by Ruby>
-.-' but they are within the canon of this RP So At some point they existed; also excuse me but-
roleplayerguild.com/posts/4645948
No they aren't. Superman Prime has never existed within the timeline of this RP.
4 out of 5 fans of the DCU recommend this character.
If you don't like collaborating with others, have diva like tendencies, or generally are disrespectful on the regular... this isn't the game for you.
And there's this.
Just saying, Superman's dead in this RP, so uh, now who can't get their facts right :P
© 2007-2026