Some less popular picks:
I don't see why this would be less popular, given that it's one of the most schway pieces of music to ever be orchestrated.
Master Bruce
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Winged Freak
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Bio
Very well, where do I begin?
My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet.
My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament.
My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds - pretty standard, really. At the age of twelve, I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles.
There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking. I highly suggest you try it.
My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet.
My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament.
My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds - pretty standard, really. At the age of twelve, I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles.
There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking. I highly suggest you try it.
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5 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
I don't see why this would be less popular, given that it's one of the most schway pieces of music to ever be orchestrated.
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5 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Discussion Time Baby: If you want not everyone is getting involved in these: what's your favourite Superhero-related OST (Original Soundtrack) of all time?
Predictable answer is predictable, but I think I listen to parts of this every week.
This one is a close second.
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5 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Stately Wayne Manor
Gym, Southeast Wing
9:26 PM
"In a statement regarding the near-catastrophic crash of the Lexcorp shuttle Lillian and it's apparent rescue by Superman, President Ellis attributed the launch's success to CEO Lex Luthor's drive and talent while speaking on the death of Justice Hartw---"
"Change."
"---made headlines today, as The Boy Of Steel's overabundance in dealings with the opposite sex has been called into question by parental advisory boards across the---"
"Change."
"---despite leaving no casualties, Freeze's attack on Wayne Biotech was nevertheless considered ruthless, with eyewitnesses describing the notorious criminal's motive as one of technological theft. It was thanks to the interference of the GCPD, Chief Renee Montoya tells GCN News, that the employees of the prestigious science center were rescued in---"
"Change."
"---other news, fourteen members of Temple Fugate's grand larceny outfit were arrested in the early morning hours following a supposed clash with The Batman. The perpetrators were said to be strung upside down via cable, just north of the entrance to the Industrial Bank Of Gotham, their alleged target in just the latest of a daring series of robberies hitting the Financial District. Fugate, known for his acts of time-themed felonies under the alias of The Clock King, remains at large after escaping from Arkham Asylum earlier in---"
"Off."
Practically every grain of sand within the leather bag flew wildly out of place, as billionaire Bruce Wayne threw concentrated hits at it in succession. His determination rose with every blow, causing the bag to swing out even further on it's suspended chain. Bruce been training around the grounds of Wayne Manor for close to three hours, having taken a six mile jog not long upon awakening from a mid-afternoon nap, following that up with push-ups, crunches, lunges, squats, and deadlifts of over 450 to 500 pounds. His body felt like it was on fire, but everything about his routine seemed to echo the exact same result: nothing had changed. Despite his momentary loss of strength while foiling the heist on IBG, Wayne seemed to be healthier than ever, with no apparent need to compensate for his age or the sheer amount of physical duress he'd been put under over the years. It all felt as effortless as it did when he was ten years younger, which was part of what was worrying him. Feeling the slowness that naturally came with age would at least partially explain what had happened last night, giving him a logical conclusion to go with and a clear course of correction.
But he felt more alive today than he did when he was thirty. Even now, he could recall the thrill that washed over him whenever he first donned the cape and cowl. That group of muggers that were threatening Leslie Thompkins' free clinic at gunpoint in Park Row. Their fear upon getting their first glimpse of him - the very first glimpse that anyone, aside from ever-loyal Alfred, had gotten of The Batman - and the sense that something about the outfit had struck a nerve with what had only theoretically been a superstitious, cowardly lot before that night. He remembered the feeling being intoxicating, like a drug that had both enhanced his senses and tore away at any lingering doubts that he'd maintained from his early failed attempts at vigilantism. It was the greatest feeling in the world. As though apart of him had been unchained after years of trauma and aimless direction had beaten it back into the darkest corners of his soul.
Now things were so much different. Being Batman hadn't been a thrill for Bruce for many years, despite his continued necessity in carrying out the mission. He learned early on that Gotham's contingent of criminals weren't apart of any game that he'd been playing, that the stakes were considerably higher than he ever could have imagined. So like with any drug taken for too long, Bruce eventually found himself sobering up. He began treating the responsibility of becoming Gotham's protector as what it was: a greater calling, perhaps even a great baptism by fire, rain, and blood. There was almost a spiritual need to continue the work that had kept him going, night after night, for the last fifteen years.
Last night had been the first time that he could remember that need waning, even for an instant. Watching that young man slip out of his grasp so easily, plunging towards the streets so fast that he could barely react in time to save him - it would have been the end of him in so many ways. Even taking a life by accident wouldn't have been an acceptable loss, so the idea that he could falter in such a crucial manner had stuck itself to the forefront of his mind. Even on the drive home, with The Batmobile's speedometer reaching 300 MPH, he'd felt... numb. Traumatized, in all likelihood, by the idea that he wasn't good enough to carry on anymore.
With a final lunge forwards, Bruce struck the bag so hard that it hit the ceiling of the gym. A few scattered pieces of plaster came falling to the ground like grains of salt, signaling that it was time for him to rest. But Wayne merely stared, discontent, at his own reflection in the mirror ahead of him. He saw the face of a man that was tired, even if he didn't feel it. He noticed the gray streaks in his hair that had begun to form along his temples. He caught a glimpse of the crow's feet that were forming around his eyes, even as he toweled down the enormous amount of sweat around his face. And most evidently of all, the amount of scars that ran down so many parts of his body. Some fully calloused over, others still in the midst of healing. His inner-self may have felt as beastly as ever, but his outer-self was starting to crack. And he didn't know what he could possibly do about it.
Throwing the towel around his shoulders, Bruce walked across the gym and exited into the long hallway that led him past the massive dining hall, the kitchen, the armory, and the entrance to the greenhouse. His heart was still regulating itself, but it hadn't reached the point of any extreme duress like it had the previous night. His breathing was steady. His ears weren't ready to pop from the altitude of the building; rather, all he could hear was an almost deafening silence. It was something that he still hadn't quite gotten used to after losing Alfred - the idea that at any given time, the elder British statesman wasn't awaiting him with either a remedy for his current ailments or some sage words of wisdom. All that was left in the butler's wake was a chamber of echoed beats, originating entirely from Bruce's footsteps.
Cassandra was the only one living with him now, and her room was on the second floor, on the other side of the house. Even if he went to check in, he'd wager she was already gone for the night. Despite being largely mute, the girl had a sense of solitude that made itself readily apparent. But she knew the risks just as well as she knew the rules: do not engage with any of Arkham or Blackgate's regulars without accompaniment. Do not make yourself known if you don't have to. And never kill, even if that's all your mind is telling you to do. Cassandra was troubled with the latter burden from years of conditioning by her twisted father, but Bruce was confident that there was a sense of good in her that was stronger than anything so morbid. It was why he had gone to convince Barbara to allow the girl to take up the long-abandoned mantle of Batgirl in the first place, and why she ultimately allowed it: an obvious spark of hope in there that couldn't be ignored.
As for the others, they had all left the nest. Dick had been on his own for years, having built an entirely new life for himself in Blüdhaven. He was a respected cop and an incredibly formidable force as Nightwing, single-handedly being the reason that one city could sleep at night. Bruce's enormous pride in him was only overridden by his sense of worry - something that all fathers had to go through. But he ultimately knew that of all of the men, women, and children that he'd trained, Dick was the least of his concerns. They talked once a week and were on much better terms than before Alfred passed. It was as if losing him had given them an excuse to finally hash out their differences and become the true father and son unit that had been lacking since Dick's graduation from the role of Robin.
Jason... was an entirely different story. Even after learning of his miraculous return from the Lazarus Pits, it seemed as if the news with him just got worse with every development. From trying to strike out on his own as the vengeful Red Hood, leaving plenty of bodies in his wake, to his internment at Arkham and the slaughter that he'd committed there. Bruce couldn't put into words how much he hated what Jason had become, but never once did he square the blame on Jason himself. Rather, he was the one that felt responsible. If he'd been a better father, there was a higher likelihood that when the earthquake hit Gotham and the family was stretched thin, Robin would have never ran off in defiance and tried to take on The Joker by himself. In truth, Bruce felt entirely lost as to what he could do to make things right.
The same could also be said of Damian. Despite training the boy under Dick's supervision and guidance, too much of his only biological offspring's mother and grandfather still reigned in his approach to everything. It had gotten them into plenty of heated arguments, not to mention more than a few reconsiderations of even allowing him to join in on this line of work. Bruce and Dick eventually realized that what he needed was a team's structure to work within, as it would force him to grow up among a group of his peers and learn the respect that was lacking from him within the team in Gotham. But there had been no communication since Damian left. Bruce had tried, but he guessed that the boy simply wasn't ready to accept that his father hadn't shuffled him off to be someone else's problem. And Bruce wondered when it came down to it, with Alfred being too bitter of a burden for him to carry ontop of his responsibilities as a mentor and a father, if Damian was right.
Then there was Tim. Despite having to work hard to earn his place as Robin, Tim had excelled in every part of his role to a point that still astonished Bruce. An excellent detective, a brilliant technological mind, Red Robin was arguably as much of a force for good in Gotham as The Batman was at this point. He'd moved out of the mansion two years prior, but his endless nights of work ever since had not gone unnoticed. If anything, Tim was a prime example of how a son could surpass his father in many ways. Bruce had learned to trust in his own instincts whenever Tim first came to him to become the new Robin, and his instincts told him only one thing: that the young man was destined for greatness. Tim had yet to let him down for even a moment.
The others, such as Barbara, Duke, Stephanie, Luke, Kate, Helena, and Jean-Paul had never been his children, though Wayne cared for them each all the same. They were his extended family. Never having roles that owed Bruce their loyalty, they hadn't lived under his roof and were never forced to adhere to any of his rules, unless they were unlucky enough to break them. That had gotten him into plenty of clashes with Helena and Jean-Paul, specifically, both of whom didn't value the sanctity of life nearly as much as the rest did. But they had repented and changed their ways, earning themselves a second chance - though it was a tough road to get there. But they managed to overcome their demons, largely thanks to the help of Barbara's skills as a therapist.
It was all a little overwhelming for Bruce to consider. Some relationships seemed stronger than ever, while others were in desperate need of mending before it was too late. And that's what worried Wayne more than anything else, at the end of it - the idea that if his age was truly catching up with him and he'd eventually have to give up the cowl, that he would be forced to enter retirement without having accomplished building the bridges in his life that led to a legacy he could be proud of. The Batman wasn't simply a symbol for the innocents of Gotham to rally behind anymore. It was also a statement on the lives he'd been able to touch along the way, the souls that took it upon themselves to continue the fight, either directly under his guidance or otherwise. To have nearly let that thief fall to his death would have been an affront to that statement, and more than anything else, Wayne wanted to know why it almost happened.
Entering the library after that long walk of contemplation, Wayne grabbed a shirt and quickly began to button it up. There were some forensic files that he had yet to examine in The Batcave, either as a favor to one of his colleagues in The Justice League or as part of an ongoing case in Gotham. The Clock King was hardly the only one still at large, despite his best efforts, and Wayne knew that he had to put together the clues as to any of their whereabouts before he could embark on a proper search through the criminal database to see which threats needed to be taken off the board.
But before he could lift the false Shakespeare bust and scan his thumbprint to open the entrance to The Batcave, a rotary telephone in the corner of the room suddenly flashed to life with a crimson emergency beacon. Bruce's eyebrow raised, noting the timing of this particular call in conjunction with his plans. Evidently, Commissioner Gordon had other plans for him tonight. No matter, he thought to himself, as he briskly paced over to the phone, removed the glass dome over it, and picked up the receiver, holding it to his ear.
"Jim. I take it there's an emergency? I didn't see the signal."
"That's just it, Batman. You're about to. I'm calling because we need you to come down to the station as soon as you can. There's... a visitor here for you, among a few other developments that I need to touch base with you on."
A visitor?
"Can this visitor wait?"
"Christ. Can this visitor wait..."
The annoyance in Gordon's voice indicated that not to be an option. Whoever it was, they must have been important enough for the Commissioner to feel the need to forewarn him that the Bat-Signal was about to be lit.
"I'm on my way now."
Steve Rogers, better known to the world at large as Captain America, was a legend. This fact was indisputable. What was equally as indisputable was that despite his immense respect for Rogers, as the two had come across one another in the field a great many number of times before - through their alliances in The Justice League and The Avengers, respectively - was that Batman couldn't have asked for a worse time to receive a visit from an outsider to Gotham. As he watched from the adjacent gargoyle as Rogers leaned against the side of the gigantic, still-lit lamp emblazoned with his own insignia, The Dark Knight considered all of the reasonable possibilities for why Rogers needed to see him. Because in all likelihood, it wasn't for anything good. These types of meetings never really were.
Regardless, it wasn't long before The Caped Crusader had swallowed his pride and made his way over to the GCPD roof. Quietly, of course, to the point that Rogers hadn't noticed him take position on a perch directly above him. Still as stoic and unwavering as ever, Captain America wasn't likely to be taken too off guard by this approach. But he had to realize something. This was Gotham City - and in Gotham, there was only one authority that had to be recognized whenever that signal was lit.
"Captain."
Rogers spun around, immediately catching the eye of the silhouette in shadow above.
"You're a long way from the Triskelion."
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So...
Everyone here is playing a character. What's your favourite portrayal of that character? What's your biggest influence?
Batman: The Animated Series.
And that's mostly it. I'm inspired by alot of different writers over the years like Denny O'Neil, Frank Miller, Jim Starlin, Doug Moench, Jeph Loeb, Greg Rucka, Scott Snyder, and many more, but everything about Batman that feels the most pure to draw upon is that cartoon.
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Industrial Bank Of Gotham - IBG Tower
Rooftop Level, 27th Floor
3:26 AM
Like a gentle fluttering against the night's sky, seven figures descend from the clouds above Gotham City without making so much as a single sound. Each man is outfitted in a state-of-the-art military flight suit, heavily modified with the latest in special-ops stealth capabilities. Draped in black and gray camo lining an all-black uniform, complete with featureless balaclavas and smoke-lined goggles, the group quietly encircle their target below as a means of gaining precision. They've scoped the place out for weeks, monitoring the building's security protocols and its operative fluctuations day in, day out. The guard station is located on the thirteenth floor, requiring a keycode and a retina scan just to be able to gain entry to a massive terminal of live feeds covering the whole of the tower. By the time that they would make touchdown on the roof, at least three separate cameras would easily spot them and send out a priority one red alert, triggering an extensive lockdown and sending out at least five silent alarms to five different GCPD precincts.
This paradoxically doesn't happen, as each paraglider elegantly makes a safe landing upon the vacant helipad that stands roughly a yard away from the rooftop entrance. The leader of the group, nicknamed "Piece" in their bid for anonymity, rises from uncoupling the wings of his flight suit and produces a handheld device with a green light blinking. A gift from their employer, designed specifically to trigger a dormant system virus that will automatically reprogram the rooftop cameras to display a loop of the last few minutes. The others quickly shed their parachute and wings in unison, revealing large duffel bags, each filled to the brim with equipment.
Piece raises his right arm and makes a fist, indicating that the two to his left - "Marker" and "Dial" - should run ahead and begin their work on the security lock on the entrance. As they rush forward, Piece reaches into a large pouch affixed to the back of his suit and pulls out two pieces, a large barrel and a trigger, before snapping them together to form a modified HK416 assault rifle. The other four - following Piece's lead - reach into their own and produce a variety of similar rifles, from an M16 to an M26 shotgun.
"Alright. Let's give our boys some air. Sixty-second rotation across the roof, in a straight line and turn."
Piece signals two of them to the right. "Alpha, you're the pointmen. Anyone is spying on us from any of the adjacent buildings, we'll know through the infrared readout. Priority is to keep things low profile, but if you have to take 'em out..."
"Won't be a tragedy?"
Beneath the mask, Piece's brow furrows.
"Like I said. Priority is to be scarce. Keeper? You got that?"
One of them nods.
"Good man. Just make sure your partner doesn't wander off the reservation."
"You got it. C'mon, 'Tock'..."
As Tock mutters under his breath, the two nevertheless comply, keeping their guns trained on the immediate area beyond the roof. Bravo team waits for the go-ahead, which Piece gives by pointing in the opposite direction.
"What about you, ace?"
Piece loads a fresh clip into his rifle. "I'm lookout. Any security, cop, or otherwise gives us any shit, my job is to blow them away with everything I got."
"Thought you said we had to be low profile..."
"Anything can happen, 'Watch'. Especially in this town. Not gonna pull any triggers unless we gotta."
'Tick', Watch's partner, bumps into the nervous thug's shoulder.
"You heard him. Get your ass in gear."
As everyone moves to position, Piece turns around and keeps his eyes north as Marker and Dial begin to pierce the steel casing that surrounds the security module. They're using industrial strength drilling equipment, the same make and model tested against the bars at Fort Knox every year to indicate whether the materials need to be updated with stronger stuff. And needless to say, The Industrial Bank Of Gotham was hardly Fort Knox. Top-of-the-line in electronic security? Sure, thanks to a sizable grant from Wayne Industries. But they didn't need a tank to break in. Just some careful planning, a sequence of breaches, and a hell of alot of luck.
"Status."
"Just about through..."
Piece takes a look at the analog timer beneath his wrist. When they had made the drop out of the awaiting plane that was still hovering over a thousand feet above them, the group had seven minutes to get in, procure the package, and get out before any suspicion could reasonably be raised. Thanks to these idiots asking too many questions, they were down to four. While this wouldn't ordinarily be a problem, they all knew exactly who they were working for. Failure to adhere to punctuality was punishable by death, as many who had come and gone from the outfit had learned the hard way.
After watching a barrage of sparks go flying at them for what seemed like a small eternity, Marker finally turns to Piece and gives him the okay. Piece nods, turning just as Dial begins to go to work at the wiring for the alarm systems with a laser-cutter. They had to be severed in a specific sequence in order to bypass the electronic locks without incident, otherwise they'd all might aswell be going in guns-blazing. But it didn't take a genius to figure out that the very last thing you ever did as a thief in Gotham was go in guns-blazing. That was more of a Two-Face gang's style, or a bunch of Joker clowns. Someone looking to throw a little mayhem in with their take and stir things up.
This wasn't about that. All they wanted was the municipal codes for the operating branches within the city. Snatching those would essentially give them a one-way keycard access to every major vault in Gotham, not to mention a couple of the neighboring counties. The boss had worked out a plan that would make them all rich, if that creepy-ass timekeeper was feeling generous enough to pay the others their cut. Which, Piece thought, he would... if he knew what was good for his health.
"The rest of you, report. Anything out of sorts?"
"Nobody in any of the parking garages. Not a trace of anyone on the rooftops."
"Same on this end. Looks like we're in the clear."
A smile creeps upon Piece's lips beneath the mask.
"Guess the usual suspects have lost their touch."
At that moment, Dial managed to cut through the last of the wires controlling the locking mechanism. With a simple flick of the maintenance switch, hidden just behind the module, the group watches as the massive tumblers sealing the door in begins to rotate, before sliding back completely. All of them collectively breathed a sigh of relief, as this was always going to be the hard part of the job. But it had been carried out with no muss or fuss, all-but-guaranteeing a swift extraction.
Which made the appearance of the figure that was hiding behind the door, eerily patient and clearly having waited from the beginning, all the more shocking. Each of the seven men raised their weapons, too terrified to move as the all-too-familiar silhouette steps out from behind a thick smoke generated by the destroyed electronics. The figure's stark white eyes peered out from the shadows, glowing in a sneer. Despite being a Gotham native for over half of his life, Piece could hardly believe what he was seeing - that after all these years of hearing nothing but rumors and second-hand accounts, he'd finally been placed into the unfortunate position of standing face-to-face with him.
"Five robberies. All prestigious banks. Each committed in the last month on a rotating schedule..."
"You knew this was coming."
Over the next few seconds, Piece watched with abject horror as the robbery that he'd help plan for months fell completely apart. The Batman lunged forward from out from the shadows and subdued Marker with a chokehold, simultaneously taking the back of Dial's head and slamming his face directly into the console that he had just breached. Tick and Tock, swarming in from opposite sides, opened fire with an immediate hail of bullets pinning the concrete infront of and around their attacker.
The Dark Knight quickly utilized Marker's bulletproof vest to protect himself from the oncoming fire, shifting the horrified thug's body over his shoulder and charged, effectively using him as a living battering ram. Catapulting Marker directly into Tick and Tock, knocking all three men to the ground, Batman spun before the others could fire and lashed out with a single batarang throw. The spinning projectile swung out in a perfect circle, forcing the guns out of the hands of three different combatants, before landing back into the leather grip of its wielder.
Piece was the only one that had yet to be attacked. And despite the weapon in his hands, he couldn't feel his finger reach for the trigger despite every instinct telling him to do it. The possibility of The Batman interfering with the job had always been discussed, always a topic at the forefront of any sane criminal's mind when discussing a pulling a heist in Gotham. But the simple fact is, Piece had never fully put it together that it was possible for a job he was on - he'd always been lucky enough to stay directly out of the vigilante's ever-looming path. But now? His knees were buckling as quickly as his heart was racing. He'd been reduced to a mess of anxiety as he could only watch his men crumple to the ground.
The Batman, on the other hand, had quickly discerned the pattern of these heists and passed the information along to Commissioner Gordon before he'd even arrived. It didn't take a genius to realize that Temple Fugate, known more locally as The Clock King, had faked his rehabilitation at Arkham Asylum in an effort to get himself back onto the streets during Gotham's most prosperous fiscal season. Fugate's compulsive need to organize his crimes had been the signature mark of the previous five robberies: the first had been committed at Gotham National Savings & Loan at precisely 10:10 PM on a Sunday, while the second had hit the Herron & Ellias Trust at 11:11 PM on the following week's Monday. The pattern had held for the next three, and each was within blocks of eachother in the Financial District - like hands on a clock pointing outward. Going by the clockwise motion, IGB Tower was always certain to be the next target.
While it would be easy to assume that with the police on his trail, The Clock King would abandon this methodology, Batman knew better than to leave it to chance. Not only would Fugate feel the need to keep each robbery on track to the letter, but the idea of abandoning his plans in favor of something far less predictable would have been a logistical nightmare to an obsessive like him. Time was precious to Fugate, as if he considered the concept no different than a child that had to be nursed. And to stray from its linear pathway would be akin to self-annihilation. It was partly why Fugate had never been considered a very serious threat when compared to his contemporaries. Even The Riddler, after the first few years of failed schemes, had learned when to change the rules of the "game" to keep himself ahead...
"Code Gray! I repeat, Code Gray! He-He was waiting in the entrance!"
Amidst the fight with the others, Batman's eyes narrowed as he turned his gaze toward a terrified Piece, who had his weapon trained directly on the vigilante. But he was stepping backward, still far too afraid to fire. Either this piece of scum was looking to avoid potentially hitting his men, or in the more likely scenario, he had just found himself way too in over his head. The Caped Crusader made a note of that as he ducked an oncoming kick, grabbed the thug's leg, and then thrust his knee into the attacker's groin.
Stomping the last conscious thief's face directly into the concrete roof, Batman advanced on Piece with a quick sprint. It was enough to terrify the thug into a backward trip, but he managed to spring back up and maintain his composure, nervously looking toward the skies. After realizing that his cowl's micro-transceiver had picked up a northbound noise, The Dark Knight stopped in his tracks and watched as seven more thieves from the outfit - presumably instructed to wait, in the event that things had gone south - descended from the clouds and quickly landed between Batman and their defacto leader, guns trained.
"You're gonna pay for this, Bat! We're already behind schedule!"
Batman remained motionless for a moment, sizing up the situation.
"Still, we can always curry favor with the boss by telling him that we finally punched your cl---"
Seizing the opportunity, The Dark Knight slammed a palm-full of gas grenades on the ground infront of him, disappearing into the billowing cloud as it enveloped the startled gunmen, momentarily blinding their vision while irritating their lungs. As they shot wildly into the air, each trying in vain to calibrate their goggles to see through the smoke through infrared, all they caught were glimpses of Batman's silhouette as he worked through the crowd. A nerve-pinch here, a shattered femur there, some pained screams, and the sound of broken bones followed the group as they were powerlessly, one by one, brought to the ground.
Piece, still choking on the irritant vapor, looked up as the cloud dissipated. Batman was still in the midst of disarming the last standing member of his back-up, snatching the gun away from his grasp and lifting him off of the ground.
"Your boss would know better..."
With a hard swing, Batman tossed the thug into the air and leaped himself, landing a precise spin-kick into the thug's spine and sending him crashing into the heap of unconscious or otherwise immobile bodies. His cape draping around him, The Dark Knight could hardly hide his disgust as he turned away.
"Than to use a clock pun with me."
BRAKABRAKABRAKABRAKABRAKA!
With no time to react properly, The Batman felt his body reel back as three high-caliber bullets struck him directly in the chest. They had hit the most heavily armored part of his body, lined with an experimental kevlar-lined shock-absorbent filament that had been injection molded into the suit, but no amount of armor could change the fact that he had still taken three bullets to the chest. Landing hard onto his back, Batman recovered his breath just in time to see Piece walking towards him, nervously keeping his gun trained.
"N-Now don't... don't you do anything else. I'm gonna leave this place right now, a-and you're not gonna follow..."
The Dark Knight responded by swooping his right leg under Piece's body, sending him crashing to the ground. The machine gun went flying, before being caught mid-air by Batman's apparent steel grip. Piece moaned in pain and grabbed at the back of his stricken head as The Caped Crusader instantaneously dismantled the weapon, tossing the useless cascade of parts aside. Standing over the injured thug, Batman violently reached in and grabbed him by the front of his vest, causing him to visibly and immediately panic.
"Here's a counter offer."
Stepping ever closer to the edge of the rooftop, Batman positioned Piece over the railing with a single arm, leaving him to dangle over three hundred feet above the streets below. Piece was understandably concerned, while little to no emotion remained in The Dark Knight's glare. Truth be told, he had done this thousands of times. It could be surprising to most how easily even the toughest individuals break once gravity entered the equation.
"You're going to tell me everything you know about Tempus Fugate. His location, where he's been keeping the earnings off these heists. And you're going to do that before I lose my..."
But suddenly, without warning, Batman felt his grip on the thug weaken.
"...patience..."
The steeled gaze turned into one of confusion, as the strength in his body was beginning to gradually fade. The Dark Knight merely assumed that the criminal in his grasp was struggling too hard and making things difficult. He was about to accost him further in order to scare him into submission, but that was when Batman noticed something particularly odd: the man wasn't moving. Reaching in to rip off his balaclava, the vigilante revealed a young man - no older than twenty-two or twenty-three - who had long since passed out from fright.
Realizing that he might have overdone it, Batman went to pull him back over the ledge and drag him over to the others - but he wasn't able to do it. His back locked up, the muscles in his triceps went numb, and he started to feel as though his own hands were shaking. Overcome with his inability to control the situation, Batman reached out with his other arm in a desperate attempt to pull the unconscious body back to the roof - only to realize that he was the one tipping over.
Hit with pure exhaustion, Batman became horrified to witness the last thing that he'd ever want to see: the thief slipping entirely out of his grasp.
"Mother of God..."
Without thought, The Dark Knight threw himself off of the roof aswell and hurriedly reached into the back of his utility belt. He could see the falling thug's body a few meters below him, hurtling towards the pavement on a collision course that was destined to be fatal. Using that knowledge to push himself even more, Batman produced a newer iteration of his grapple gun - larger than the handheld version that he would regularly utilize in the field - and shot it directly at his target.
The grapple shot out without a line, instead employing three separate hooks attached to a large sensor. With the sensor hitting the thief directly in the chest, the three hooks automatically sprang to life and shot off three separate grapple lines out to the surrounding buildings. Even if one didn't hold, the other two would be more than sufficient in preventing the man's fall - and with the safety monitor installed in the sensor, would gradually slow the man's descent to prevent injury.
Breathing a heavy sigh of relief as he himself sailed past the now air-suspended criminal, The Dark Knight pressed a button on the buckle of his belt and produced one of the other grapple guns. Spinning and firing a line into the air, Batman pulled down in order to arch himself for an ascension - only to find that it hadn't worked and that his pull was too weak. Flung through the air without a taut line, the vigilante cursed under his breath as he felt one of his shoulders pop from the velocity. Managing to propel himself into a weak swing, The Caped Crusader spotted a nearby window washer's carriage, unmanned just below the tenth floor of the building.
Feeling himself picking up an unwanted amount of speed, Batman braced himself as he collided directly with the steel pole of the carriage, causing him an even greater amount of pain than the three bullets embedded into his armor. With a weak thrust of his leg, however, The Dark Knight slowly made his way onto the carriage's platform, finally able to let go of the grapple.
Breathing hard, with his heart feeling as though it were pumping out of his chest, Batman rolled onto his back and laid there for several minutes, trying to recover from a near-death experience that should never have theoretically happened. Despite his analytical mind, he simply didn't understand it. What had he just experienced? Some sort of delayed reaction to the impact of the bullets? Perhaps a bullet caliber he hadn't encountered in the field?
Not likely, he thought to himself, beginning to cough in between gasps. He knew the make and model of the gun that the punk had used to attack him. It had been the same type fired by many of his enemies, often hitting him at a point in his career where he'd utilize considerably less protective equipment. This was something else. Something psiological that had made him too weak to carry out something that wasn't, in his mind, very complicated at all.
There was one thought. A single possibility that terrified him. But he immediately dismissed it to even himself, on the suspicion that he'd already spent too long ignoring this particular problem. To admit it even subconsciously, now of all times, would be admitting that he'd let this get out of hand. That were he a man of a more common sense, he would have prepared for this eventuality long before now.
He was getting old.
In
Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]
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5 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
T H E B A T M A N
T H E B A T M A N
T H E B A T M A N
"People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy... and I can't do that as Bruce Wayne."
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T  _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Bruce Wayne | CEO Of Wayne International |  _________________________________________________________ Gotham City | NJ | United States Of America C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G | C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T Having lost his parents to a common mugger, Bruce Wayne dedicated his life to training himself in ridding Gotham City's streets of crime. At first believing he could accomplish this legitimately, pursuing a law degree, a career with the FBI, and even S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, Wayne eventually realized that he had to go outside of the law in order to accomplish his goal. Eighteen years after beginning his traversal of the world, from the mountains of the Himilayas to the hidden jungles of Wakanda, employing a number of instructors from organizations such as The Court Of Owls, The Chaste, and The League Of Shadows, Wayne returned to Gotham City and became the vigilante known only to a superstitious and cowardly lot as The Batman. Having aligned himself with James Gordon, eventual Commissioner of the GCPD, aswell as his own self-styled 'family' of vigilantes such as Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, Timothy Drake, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Kate Kane, Duke Thomas, Jean-Paul Valley, Helena Bertinelli, and even his own biological son Damian, The Batman's been operating in Gotham for the last fifteen years, living out his dual life as a billionaire socialite by day and the scourge of evil by night. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) Now in his mid-forties, Wayne's become reluctant to admit that his once perfectly honed body and mind are starting to show the signs of age and damage from half a lifetime spent waging his war on criminals. Employing a number of gadgets and vehicles to keep him ahead of the curve, it's become apparent that his days as The Dark Knight are now numbered, whether it be by many years or few precious months ahead. His sense of melancholy has only been strengthened by the death of his adoptive father figure and mentor, Alfred Pennyworth, making Bruce more determined than ever to lead a better example in remembrance of the man who believed in him most... My intention is to portray an older Batman who's lived out a more-or-less full career, with all of the sidekicks and rogues' gallery members you could imagine. The reason for this is because I want to explore the fragility of Bruce Wayne as a man, something that the comics often forget in their attempt to heighten the capability of the character against his superhuman contemporaries. He's one of the world's greatest detectives, one of its shrewdest warriors, and a legendary hero at this point, but he's still susceptible to everything that plagues humanity - age, disease, and even death. So to take a look at Bruce's mid-life crisis against the backdrop of a One Universe setting is an opportunity that I can't ignore. O N G O I N G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ HOW THEY CAME TO BE A prominent figure from Gotham's history and Batman's past is found murdered, to the astonishment of The Caped Crusader. This person was believed to be dead already, and the method of their homicide strongly indicates that someone in Gotham has pieced together the truth of Bruce Wayne's dual identity. Determined to find the killer before they can claim another of his allies, Batman's journey through a past trauma will lead him on a quest through the Gotham underworld - to many of the enemies that he's made over the years - in an effort to discern who's responsible and why. SCORCHED EARTH The Joker has gone wild once again, this time targeting every past associate to ever hench for his horrific crimes and every hideout that's ever acted as his hideaway from the law. Something's got The Clown Prince Of Crime more on edge than ever before, and Batman's determined to figure out why - before The Thin White Duke Of Death's drive to scrape away all traces of his career can leave Gotham City itself in a state of disarray. THE HAUNTING OF ARKHAM Strange happenings and unexplained phenomena have begun to take place within the hellish halls of Arkham Asylum, leading to guards and inmates being murdered in increasingly brutal ways with no sign of escape or forced entry. Batman investigates the cause, having already concluded - based on the available evidence - that the responsible party may not even be of this earthly plane. Or, at least, that these crimes have been designed to appear that way... FAMILY REUNION Following a botched attempt to rescue his fellow vigilante and biological cousin, Batman and Batwoman find themselves trapped in a deadly game with Edward Nigma, aka The Riddler, acting as their tormentor. As the two work out all possible strategies to escape and the clock ticks away at their impending doom, the Dark Duo find themselves working out some familial issues that have plagued their relationship since the beginning, with one revealing a secret to the other that will change the course of everything. |
In
Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]
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5 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
So Master Bruce, am I the only one so far thinking of applying for a DC villain?
As far as I know, yes.
In
Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]
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5 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
@Sep I know! Going completely out of my element on this one. Feels like I'm on shaky ground with this completely uncharted territory.
In
Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game]
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5 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
T H E B A T M A N
T H E B A T M A N
T H E B A T M A N
"People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy... and I can't do that as Bruce Wayne."
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y Bruce Wayne | CEO Of Wayne International | _________________________________________________________ Gotham City | NJ | United States Of America C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S P O S T C A T A L O G P O S T C A T A L O G | C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T Having lost his parents to a common mugger, Bruce Wayne dedicated his life to training himself in ridding Gotham City's streets of crime. At first believing he could accomplish this legitimately, pursuing a law degree, a career with the FBI, and even S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, Wayne eventually realized that he had to go outside of the law in order to accomplish his goal. Eighteen years after beginning his traversal of the world, from the mountains of the Himilayas to the hidden jungles of Wakanda, employing a number of instructors from organizations such as The Court Of Owls, The Chaste, and The League Of Shadows, Wayne returned to Gotham City and became the vigilante known only to a superstitious and cowardly lot as The Batman. Having aligned himself with James Gordon, eventual Commissioner of the GCPD, aswell as his own self-styled 'family' of vigilantes such as Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, Timothy Drake, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Kate Kane, Duke Thomas, Jean-Paul Valley, Helena Bertinelli, and even his own biological son Damian, The Batman's been operating in Gotham for the last fifteen years, living out his dual life as a billionaire socialite by day and the scourge of evil by night. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) Now in his mid-forties, Wayne's become reluctant to admit that his once perfectly honed body and mind are starting to show the signs of age and damage from half a lifetime spent waging his war on criminals. Employing a number of gadgets and vehicles to keep him ahead of the curve, it's become apparent that his days as The Dark Knight are now numbered, whether it be by many years or few precious months ahead. His sense of melancholy has only been strengthened by the death of his adoptive father figure and mentor, Alfred Pennyworth, making Bruce more determined than ever to lead a better example in remembrance of the man who believed in him most... My intention is to portray an older Batman who's lived out a more-or-less full career, with all of the sidekicks and rogues' gallery members you could imagine. The reason for this is because I want to explore the fragility of Bruce Wayne as a man, something that the comics often forget in their attempt to heighten the capability of the character against his superhuman contemporaries. He's one of the world's greatest detectives, one of its shrewdest warriors, and a legendary hero at this point, but he's still susceptible to everything that plagues humanity - age, disease, and even death. So to take a look at Bruce's mid-life crisis against the backdrop of a One Universe setting is an opportunity that I can't ignore. O N G O I N G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ HOW THEY CAME TO BE A prominent figure from Gotham's history and Batman's past is found murdered, to the astonishment of The Caped Crusader. This person was believed to be dead already, and the method of their homicide strongly indicates that someone in Gotham has pieced together the truth of Bruce Wayne's dual identity. Determined to find the killer before they can claim another of his allies, Batman's journey through a past trauma will lead him on a quest through the Gotham underworld - to many of the enemies that he's made over the years - in an effort to discern who's responsible and why. SCORCHED EARTH The Joker has gone wild once again, this time targeting every past associate to ever hench for his horrific crimes and every hideout that's ever acted as his hideaway from the law. Something's got The Clown Prince Of Crime more on edge than ever before, and Batman's determined to figure out why - before The Thin White Duke Of Death's drive to scrape away all traces of his career can leave Gotham City itself in a state of disarray. THE HAUNTING OF ARKHAM Strange happenings and unexplained phenomena have begun to take place within the hellish halls of Arkham Asylum, leading to guards and inmates being murdered in increasingly brutal ways with no sign of escape or forced entry. Batman investigates the cause, having already concluded - based on the available evidence - that the responsible party may not even be of this earthly plane. Or, at least, that these crimes have been designed to appear that way... DASVIDANIYA The Black Widow has made her way to Gotham City, and Natasha Romanova's complicated past with Bruce Wayne suddenly comes into focus once the legendary assassin and Avenger arrives at the doorstep of Stately Wayne Manor. There's an international killer loose in Gotham, and Natasha's luck has run out in catching the culprit, forcing her to employ The Batman's skills in an effort to capture a mutual enemy. FAMILY REUNION Following a botched attempt to rescue his fellow vigilante and biological cousin, Batman and Batwoman find themselves trapped in a deadly game with Edward Nigma, aka The Riddler, acting as their tormentor. As the two work out all possible strategies to escape and the clock ticks away at their impending doom, the Dark Duo find themselves working out some familial issues that have plagued their relationship since the beginning, with one revealing a secret to the other that will change the course of everything. |
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
B A T M A N
Bruce Wayne ♦ CEO Of Wayne Enterprises ♦ Gotham City, New Jersey, USA
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:
"People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy... and I can't do that as Bruce Wayne."
.Basically, I'm running with the idea that every big media interpretation - all of the live-action fare, BTAS, the games, etc - has all happened and are canon, with the exception that none of the villains ever died. So Joker didn't fall off a bell tower, Penguin didn't choke on bile and drown, Catwoman never blew herself up, Two-Face never fell to the bottom of a well or fell off of a construction site, Ra's wasn't permanently killed in a train explosion, etc, etc, etc. But the general idea is that Batman's career has hinged on these moments aswell as many of the notable comic book storylines. As such, he's quite an older man and very experienced, with all of the sidekicks and the rogues' gallery members you could think of - not quite at the level of a Dark Knight Returns era, but enough to be showing signs of age.
Also, given recent comic events, I'm just gonna go ahead and say that Alfred is dead. Feels like he'd be better served in that regard at this stage of Batman's career than if he were waiting on Bruce with tea or something in the Batcave.
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ):
My idea for a story is to actually examine the fragility of Batman as a man rather than trump up his hyper-trained mind and physique. He's had all of those for a long time, but he's starting to notice that he's getting slower and his mind is getting foggier. He's always been shown as someone who struggles with his sanity, but he's never really written to experience simple things like arthritis, disease, and even the idea that he'll eventually get too old to suit up anymore. So what better time to lay a prominent murder mystery in his lap to try and sharpen the senses? Every member of his rogue's gallery is a potential suspect and the victim is a prominent figure in Gotham, in a sense - but with no clear M.O., it's going to take some doing on Bruce's part to piece everything together. Add to that any plots that villain players or players who want to take up the extended family (Nightwing, Red Hood, Robin, Batgirl, Oracle, ect.) can bring to the table and I can keep things going in Gotham for a multitude of different interactions. The only hard-set supporting character I intend to utilize is Gordon, so any other player has the freedom to jump in and work with me to their content.
Batman's an overarching shadow over Gotham, both literally and figuratively, so it shouldn't be hard to draw his attention if you're in the area.
Batman's an overarching shadow over Gotham, both literally and figuratively, so it shouldn't be hard to draw his attention if you're in the area.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
In the interest of specificity, these are the events that I'm considering canon alongside the comic continuity that ends with Tom King's run:
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P O S T C A T A L O G:
A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed arcs and stories.
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