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Master Bruce male Member

Winged Freak

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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.

Most Recent Posts

In One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
S P I D E R - M A N

Peter Parker ♦ Freelance Videographer ♦ New York City, NY ♦ The Daily Bugle
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

"I'm glad you remembered the hyphen! Most people leave it out!"

Alright, let's do this one last time... You all know the story. Fifteen-year-old Peter Parker was an ordinary teenager living out of Queens who, during a class field trip, was bitten by a genetically enhanced spider. The spider transferred its characteristics over to him, he tried to cash in on his newfound abilities, his arrogance allowed him to let a thief go unpunished, his Uncle Ben paid the ultimate price and Parker learned that with great power, there must also come great responsibility. Donning a red and blue onesie, fashioning a pair of wrist-mounted shooters, and taking to the skies above New York City, the boy grew to be a man. An Amazing, Spectacular Spider-Man.

Then five years passed. While the web-head has done his best to keep his head above water, juggling a tricky social and professional life with the burden of being an anonymous superhero, he's come out the other side of his High School education with very little to show for it. For every superpowered enemy that Spider-Man's helped to bring to justice, such as Doctor Octopus, The Vulture, and The Rhino, Peter has also failed to protect some of the people he loves most. He wasn't able to save the love of his life's father, George Stacy, from being killed in an altercation between him and Octavious - putting Gwen at odds with Peter's chosen line of profession as the videographer of a man that she believes responsible. His best friend Harry Osborn has been losing a quiet battle with substance abuse, made all the worse by Peter's inability to keep a closer eye on his roommate's habits. And after a series of health scares and general close calls, his beloved Aunt May finally succumbed to her frail state and passed away.

With funeral costs mounting and his job at The Daily Bugle not paying the bills anymore, Peter has been forced to start looking for a more stable position elsewhere. And while being scientifically gifted has brought him great fortune as a crimefighter, having graduated with barely a passing grade due to spotty attendance hasn't exactly given him the best opportunities to show for it. So as Peter Parker languishes in debt, his sophomore year in college at Empire State University, and an inactive social calendar with even less time for a love life, it's all on his exploits as a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man to keep him sane. Which is hard when, y'know, putting on that costume means that the likelihood of being shot at by lasers and rocket launchers jumps infinitely higher.


C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:
Like alot of people, I love Spider-Man. The problem is, most who write him tend to overly romanticize his time as a teenager. While I like that period aswell, the idea of exploring his theme of responsibility when he's at an age where he can actually control most aspects of his life makes more sense to me than seeing him be expected to do everything at fifteen. My hope with this version of the character is that I can take some familiar storylines and go in the opposite direction with them, committing not only to wildly different scenarios than the usual stuff like the Symbiote Saga and his marriage to Mary Jane Watson, neither of which I plan to do, but grow Peter into an entirely different person who's learned to take his life on with a sense of maturity and growth. You can only be struggling to pay your rent and trying to figure out how to stop Mysterio so many times before it becomes your own fault, you know?

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
I'm not gonna go into any specifics, but I'll be approaching each of the classic rogue's gallery on a case-by-case basis regarding whether they have a prior history with Spidey or not. Some have fought him many times, others not at all. Some may even end up being allies rather than enemies, and some allies may end up becoming enemies instead. It's all up in the air and I want that to be what drives my version: the idea that you can't use your knowledge of his comic history to predict what happens.

S A M P L E P O S T:
"Hell yeah!"

The perplexed security guards at the Roxxon Distribution Center in downtown Brooklyn were left only to watch as the mentally ill thief, dressed in a skintight flightsuit that stood out as a bright lime green with an ill-matching helmet and goggles, leaped ahead of them and bolted directly for the large windows overlooking a top floor office. Despite their frantic attempts to stop him from escaping - or at this point, honestly, to just try and keep him from hurting himself - all were horrified to see the thief dive across a large mahogany table and slide his way into a collision with the glass.

The thief merely cackled at the top of his lungs, pulling a cord connected to his torso as he entered freefall. And with that parting image, no doubt was left to indicate the man's level of general stability.

"Score! Wings of freedom, don't fail me now!"

As the team of security guards collectively approached the window with morbid hesitation, they were greeted by the most shocking sight. Not only had the idiot not immediately become a paste upon the pavement far below, but something sprang forth and expanded from out of the visible pack that was strapped to him:

A gigantic hang-glider.

In the immistakable shape of a kite.

"Yolo, bitches! You never had a chance of stopping The Kite Man!"

Giving the entirety of the Roxxon building an extended glimpse of his middle finger, Kite Man firmly grabbed the handlebar of his glider and thrusted himself downward into a steep glide. Picking up a strong wind current, the more-than-satisfied maniac grinned as the massive kite lifted him into the air in a gentle display of finesse and utter bewilderment. New Yorkers from far below began pointing, shouting, and filming him with their phones. For a split second, he considered waving.

Then he remembered that he was still in the midst of a pursuit, and should probably keep focused on getting away before the NYPD showed up to try and shoot him down.

"Damn. Gotta plan things better for your next outing, KM. The adoring public deserves your uninvited attention..."

As he glided through a gap between skyscrapers, Kite Man allowed himself to breathe a small sigh of relief. This job had come last minute, and rather than work with a crew - as he would usually - the self-described criminal performance artist allowed his eagerness to get the best of him.

But who could blame him for being excited? After spending years as the laughing stock of the criminal underworld in Gotham City, a relocation to the Big Apple had been just what Kite Man had needed to revitalize his career. And starting with the theft of a couple hundred terrabytes of sensitive corporate data for some interested buyers? That was gonna pay off the lease on his condo for the next few months.

At least. That was the plan. Because what Kite Man didn't truly account for was company during his grand escape. So when he heard a peculiar sound from above him and felt something immediately hit the pack, tugging just as soon as it'd latched on, the would-be saboteur could do nothing to hide the genuine shock on his face. Nor could he control his flight path any longer.

"Oh, man. Oh, man, oh man, oh man. This is... wow. Where do I even start?"

Too focused on trying to regain control over his flight-pack, Kite Man failed to notice the distinctive silhouette of a man in red and blue tights as it rapidly approached him from the side, swinging on what appeared to be a strand of glistening rope.

"I mean, do I go for the easy jokes? The high-brow stuff? Do I try and restrain myself by just pretending that I didn't stumble across the world's worst Kermit cosplayer? There are so many options!"

Kite Man shrieked in terror as he found his left hand immediately hit with a large glob of a sticky, translucent substance. His fingers were immobilized, and no matter how hard he pulled, he couldn't budge his wrist beyond half a centimeter away from the bar.

"This is really unfair of you, y'know? Usually when it comes to you true-blue nutcases, I gotta be honest, I get halfway tempted to phone it in. I mean, I've fought a guy whose entire thing was extra arms. And I know of at least three psychopaths living in the tri-state area who clung to vibration gloves as a gimmick. How does that even end up being a thought that multiple people have?!"

Just as Kite Man attempted to plea for mercy, immediately caving into the idea that he wasn't going to be able to make the situation better for himself without directly causing his own death from high above, his verbal tormentor came fully into view - and was heading straight for him at an alarming velocity.

"But you, my vertically economic friend, may be the laziest. No, the lamest. No! Actually, I take it all back! You're actually the most ludicrously inventive whacko that I've ever come across! There should be a lifetime achievement award for such hilariously awkward execution!"

As Kite Man braced himself for the coming impact, however, he swore he could almost hear a chuckle escape from behind his assailant's mask.

"Before that, though. Gotta accept the courtesy beatdown. Compliments of your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!"

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.
In One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
To apply, please copy, paste, and fill out the Application below:



Alternatively, you can copy/paste this raw version of the code, provided by @Lord Wraith:

In One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
To apply, please copy, paste, and fill out the Application below:



Alternatively, you can copy/paste this raw version of the code, provided by @Lord Wraith:

In One Universe: Unlimited - A Marvel/DC Comics Roleplay → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
"If we cannot end now our differences, at least we can help make the world safe for diversity. For, in the final analysis, our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this small planet." - John F. Kennedy ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ A MARVEL AND DC COMICS ROLEPLAY ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
◼ G M (s): Master Bruce ♦ Lord Wraith ♦ ◼ G E N R E S: Superhero, Fandom ◼ T Y P E: Sandbox with linear and collaborative Arcs
T H E S T O R Y S O F A R:
As with most things, it all began with an attempt to grab untold power. In the case of World War II, while most believe that the largest conflict was driven by the maniacal desires of Adolf Hitler and his Nazi regime, the truth was carefully hidden by the world's governments in an attempt to control the outcome of the war. It was Johann Schmidt, better known as The Red Skull, that sought to control the fates of entire galaxies for himself, unwilling to remain limited to the confines of his own time. And with the once mythical Spear Of Destiny just a breath away from his grasp, thanks to the machinations of time-traveler and HYDRA loyalist Per Degaton, Schmidt almost succeeded in bending the universe to his will for all time. But there came a force unlike any before it, united in their combined will to see freedom prevail over the Skull's threat of enacting an eternal cruelty. Led by Captain America, who was once the feeble patriot Steve Rogers, a group of costumed adventurers - with a roster bolstering such heroes as The Flash, The Sub-Mariner, Hourman, Black Marvel, Green Lantern and The Human Torch, among others - eventually defeated the fearsome might of HYDRA and sent The Red Skull fleeing across Europe. While a climactic battle between Rogers and Schmidt would see both men seemingly lose their lives over the arctic, the champions of virtue that Rogers had inspired eventually returned to the United States and formally began The Justice Society Of America. But the US government had other plans for these supposed "super-humans". Under orders from President Roosevelt, the Strategic Science Reserve - later becoming the espionage organization S.H.I.E.L.D - would begin a series of lengthy and highly classified investigations into the members of the JSA. Discovering that some of their amazing powers were infact real, with a number of them being acquired in either freak accidents or happenstance, then-incumbent President Truman ordered that these self-styled vigilantes be brought in for questioning and otherwise contained. Rather than face public scrutiny, as was threatened with a potential inquiry into their abilities and personal identities if they refused to comply, the Justice Society disbanded and their members forcibly retired. For over seventy years afterward, the idea of individuals with superhuman abilities and powers were turned from a prospective source of hope into a horrifyingly effective fear-mongering campaign against the already disenfranchised. Thanks to the efforts of men like Senator Robert Kelly, the evangelical military general William Stryker, and the superhuman hunting organization A.R.G.U.S., paranoia against those with metahuman powers was specifically targeted towards mutants, a sub-set of genetically gifted youths that began to appear as part of a natural state of evolution in those born with the X gene. A few outwardly spoke on behalf of mutant rights, such as Professor Charles Xavier, but their efforts were ignored. And when the mutant terrorist group known as The Brotherhood began to attack humans as a result of worldwide bigotry towards their kind, the argument in favor of their existence was seen as being made irrelevant. In modern times, mutants were relegated to either being hidden within highly secretive families, smuggled into the night by shadowy forces working in coercion with the world's governments, or given asylum on the isolated and hidden island of Genosha. Though conspiracy theorists allege that mutantkind will eventually rise up to try and usurp humans as the primary species, these claims were largely mocked by the media and outright forgotten by the time of another bombshell in the year 2017: the discovery that we are not alone in the universe, as revealed by the arrival of a particular individual in Metropolis. But while vigilantes that would later become known as Superman, The Batman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and others began to operate in a similar fashion to the JSA before them, even banding together as a group called The Justice League, S.H.I.E.L.D. began to move pawns across their own chessboard within the world of anonymous metahuman heroics. Putting together a strike team under the codename of The Avengers Initiative, Colonel Nick Fury brought together the talents of genius billionaire philanthropist Tony Stark, the supremely powerful Thor Odinson, the highly unstable Bruce Banner, and the scientifically gifted husband and wife team of Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne to fight the battles that "we never could". And with the discovery of the miraculously preserved Steve Rogers in the arctic, Fury would ensure that Captain America would take up leadership of The Avengers in a bid to establish them as Earth's Mightiest Heroes. With superhumans becoming a permanent fixture in Earth's culture following The Man Of Steel's debut, the last five years have been quite transformative for society at large. While the efforts of these individuals have saved countless lives, many others have been inspired to fight against them as enemies. In the crosshairs of their escalating battles, humanity has begun to question whether superhumans have a right to operate with impunity - and who could possibly stop them if they should decide to turn against the rest of us.
I N T R O D U C T I O N:
Welcome fans of Marvel, DC and all comics alike. One Universe: Unlimited is a sandbox-based RP that seeks to merge and mix the lore of your favorite characters into one living cohesive world. The idea behind this RP is not to embody our favorite heroes to simply retell iconic stories, but to take these characters and create a shared Earth where iconic superheroes and villains can now co-inhabit. Infact, the goal of the RP is for players to take their favorite characters and re-imagine their histories to tell their own stories. We only ask that the soul of the character remains the same. Players will take the roles of either a hero, villain, or a character that walks both lines and tell stories either alone or in collaboration with other players in order to develop and grow the world.
C O M M U N I C A T I O N:
All official discussions and announcements will happen through the OOC.
R U L E S:
  • All players will be allotted two Character Concepts to be applied for at the player's discretion. This concept may be any character from a mainstream comic book. If applying as a 'Team Concept', a combination roster may be allowed at the scrutiny of the GM Team. Characters originally appearing in Manga or Anime are heavily discouraged because of their incompatibility with western superhero comics. We will judge all properties from outside of the main Marvel and DC Universes on a case-by-case basis provided they fit the themes and tones of the game, but the above limitations are definitive. No Image, Dark Horse, Dynamite or non-DC or Marvel related imprint characters are permitted. .
  • Players can compete for characters if an application for your desired character is posted ahead of yours and has not yet been accepted. To compete for a character, you have a twenty-four-hour window to state your intent to compete. The GM Team will then judge the two competing applications. .
  • In terms of character creation, you are free to overhaul and redesign any canon character from one of the aforementioned publishers. This means you can tell the story of the character how you believe it should be told. However, there is one major limitation, the heart and soul of the character must stay intact. The character should not be changed so much that they're unrecognizable. This means that Batman can't be a cold-blooded killer any more than Spider-Man can be a rich, well-off playboy. Every aspect of the character that isn't a key to their major identity is malleable, this can even include sex and abilities if so desired. .
  • Once accepted, player characters are claimed on a first-come, first-serve basis. If the parent character (i.e. Batman to Robin) hasn’t been claimed, the legacy is just as available. If another player comes along and asks about playing the parent, it’s requested that both players be as accommodating as possible to allow the other to express their vision. It is understandable that sometimes two visions will not mesh, and in this case, we will give the player who came first precedence. If a GM needs to step in as a mediator or an arbiter, we can arrange this in a group PM. .
  • The 'parent character' or 'acting parent characters' have a say in any further legacies being applied for. For instance, if you were playing Spider-Gwen, and another player applied as Ben Reilly, as the established 'parent' character, you are able to voice if the concept compliments your own, or if you would rather the character not be accepted. The GMs will take this into consideration before moving further ahead with any legacy application. .
  • Absolutely no 'OOC' chatter in the In Character Thread. If you have a question or anything to explain there is an Out Of Character Thread provided. You have no excuse to make an 'OOC' comment in the IC and if done it will be heavily frowned upon. If you require a more immediate answer, don't hesitate to directly ask the GM Team or relevant player through PM's. .
  • Writing expectations for this roleplay are at least two (2) well-developed paragraphs as a minimum per post. Three (3) to five (5) paragraph posts, however, would be awesome so long as you're not simply chewing the scenery. Proper spelling and grammar is also expected but small mistakes here and there are understandable. Blatant offenses will be called out. .
  • You are required to post at least once per character within a fourteen (14) day period. There will be a post-check-in, once per week performed by the GMs in order to ensure the IC is moving consistently. Extensions will be given in extenuating circumstances. Please recognize your limitations before joining the RP; if you are unable to post once every ten days, then it's highly likely that you do not have enough time to keep up with the RP. In the event that you do miss the deadline, your character will be listed as 'inactive'. After a further week of inactivity, your character will be expelled, and dealt with as necessary in the IC, whether killed or used as needed and then discarded. This whole process is simply easier if you just let the GM know if you're unable to keep up or simply have lost interest in the RP. If you find yourself in a plot with another player and they disappear, do your best to move on without them and quickly finish the arc to the best of your ability, or ask for the help of a GM. .
  • This is a Character-Driven RP, and as such you are encouraged and expected to take charge of your character's subplots and storylines. There will be a heavy emphasis on collaborative activities and team building as well. The GMs will be leading the RP in the traditional sense with a driving plot and will ensure the RP keeps moving; however, we do want to see you develop your characters and produce your own plots. What we don't want is to see you lock your character out of interaction and focus solely on your character and their 'world'. No one enjoys watching you play with yourself. It's always better to let someone else join in on the fun.
In Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game] → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Given that I've fallen back on mostly playing the same character in these games for the most part, my problem is more of a sink-or-swim one. If I hit writer's block, I tend to get too overwhelmed by it and end up either bowing out or watching the RP die due to unwittingly contributing to inactivity.

It's important for me to focus. I tend to want to go to different things and try something else, like anyone does, but I also get my best results from just focusing on what I have. There have been a few characters I've thought about doing as my second, but none have appealed to me nearly as much as just trying to do the best I can with Batman. So I think you just gotta kinda feel out what seems right for you and do that.
In Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game] → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

The Gotham City Diamond Exchange
12:40 AM

"If anyone wants to make for the door, feel free to do so now. Just don't expect any of my guys to take too kindly to your inhospitable behavior."

The after-hours workers at the Exchange had already been forced to their knees by a group of masked men brandishing high-powered rifles. Each mask was of a different animal - one, the muscle of the group, was an Ox, while the two men guarding the entrance were a lion and a tiger, respectively - but it was the three commanding the room that stood out most. The tallest, lankiest member wore a Shark's head, brandishing a large duffel bag full of tools that he'd just used to break open the safe. The middlest one wore a Vulture's head, holding up a large and very intimidating body-strapped minigun that had easily cut through the reinforced front entrance doors within seconds. And the shorter, normally sized one - wearing a Fox's head - was holding up a cellphone that was set to voice chat with the group's leader, who sat idly by in an unknown location miles away. His features hidden by an affixed charcoal skull, save for his wild eyes, the individual on the small screen placed his hands together and casually leaned forward from what looked to be behind a desk. While few had ever seen him without his mask, most knew his name extremely well, given that he'd spent many years terrorizing Gotham's East End district: Roman Sionis, known more commonly as The Black Mask.

"You may be asking yourselves how this is going to go. You may even be thinking that if you'll co-operate with us and let these gentlemen take what they came for, you'll be spared any undue unpleasantness and be allowed to walk free. You'd only be partially correct."

Black Mask's voice echoed loudly from the phone's speaker, commanding the attention of every hostage that had even considered keeping their head down and waiting out the scenario before it escalated into something truly horrific. The False Face Society of Gotham hadn't earned their reputation with kindness, as their leader had been proven a highly sadistic madman since even well before he'd suffered a disfiguring injury that had permanently grafted the death's head mask to his face. This personality type seemed only to attract like-minded individuals, from extremely violent ex-cons who had beaten their rap or been able to afford a mob lawyer that could get them off to complete schizophrenics whose visual and audio hallucinations compelled them to commit acts of cruelty. Sionis was able to keep them all under his thumb with a simple ploy: attain lots of money and considerable power. And when lacking in either, work fast and dirty to replenish. This was a time of replenishment, unfortunately for everyone else in the building.

"My empire is expanding rapidly. Gotham is looking for a new figurehead to steer the direction of organized crime, and while some of you may think that role belongs to someone like The Penguin, being the respectable businessman that he is, you would be sorely mistaken. Black Mask is the false face of this false city, no one else."



"And one can't be the 'face' of anything without a boatload of scratch. Boys?"

As if in a trance, each armed thug repeated Mask's mantra in a cold, dead baritone.

"Black Mask is the false face of a false city."
"Black Mask is the false face of a false city."
"Black Mask is the false face of a false city."
"Black Mask is the false face of a false city."
"Black Mask is the false face of a false city."
"Black Mask is the false face of a false city."

Sionis made a gesture with his fist, indicating that they cease their chant.

"As they said. We're cleaning out your tainted wares, seeing as though they were bought and paid for by the mob families that your employers have spent so many years trying to distance themselves from. And why wouldn't they? Such a mark on your clients' reputations must be removed like a cancer attacking the nervous system: with immediacy."

The Lionhead and Tigerhead audibly chuckled at this, having been the former muscle for those aforementioned families.

"That's just sensible business. We're simply extending the courtesy of cutting out the middle man."

On cue, the Vulturehead raised the minigun and opened fire into the ceiling, causing every hostage to either scream out in abject terror or to drop directly onto the floor in an attempt to dodge the onslaught of dust, plaster, and debris that exploded out from above them.

"And if anyone tries to call the cops before business is concluded? Consider that a preview of coming attractions."

Pulling the camera closer to himself, Black Mask's breath behind the mask became audibly elevated, creating a tense, horrifying image of a man who seemed overly excited at the prospect of death and destruction should anyone be brave enough to fall out of line.

"As for the rest of you, don't worry. You'll be free to leave once we do. The only stipulation to this rather generous deal is that some of you... won't be leaving entirely unscathed."

Pushing ahead a cart from within the vault, a man wearing a Panda mask presented a large rectangular object hidden beneath a heavy tarp. Stopping in the middle of the showroom, the Pandahead swiftly removed the tarp, revealing something that made each hostage turn a shade of white: a large timer attached to a couple of gasoline barrels, which had several pieces of dynamite strapped to them each and wired to a panel behind the display. It became evident that despite the robbery, Black Mask was playing for more than a few expensive cases of diamonds. He was on a quest for blood.

"And yes. That is entirely what you think it is. Shark?"

The large Sharkhead made his way over to the timer, setting it for three minutes flat. Despite many of the hostages calling out for mercy, the thug didn't hesitate to flick the bomb's activator switch. A loud ticking began, and the gunmen quickly shuffled off to collect duffel bags of wares that the Tiger and Lion had piled up next to the entrance.

"Remember to scream, ladies and gentlemen. It'll be the last sound most of you will be able to generate on this mortal coil. And nothing lasts in the memory of the survivors, if any, longer than a scream."

3:00

Giving a condescending parting wave, Black Mask's image disappeared from the phone instantaneously as the call was cut. The Foxhead took the butt of his gun and smacked it hard against a hostage's jaw, knocking the man hard onto the ground before lifting his weapon and training it back onto the hostages. The elder men and women shrieked, while the younger men and women quietly sobbed to themselves, unable to process that this was actually happening.

"None of you fucks make a move! You heard Black Mask, you're already dead! Doesn't matter how you die tonight, whether by a bomb or by a bullet! I'm happy to oblige either way!"

As many of the hostages began whispering silent, tense prayers to whomever they believed in, a miracle seemed to happen. One by one, the lights in the room seemed to quickly and violently disperse under an unseen attack by a projectile force. Spooked, the masked men fired wildly into the air, unaware of what was happening, but doing the job of unwittingly taking the rest of the lights out for the third party that had seemingly arrived.

"Black Mask isn't in a position to give orders."

With the lights having completely blackened out the room, the Foxhead began to back away from his starting position, holding his weapon tightly against his chest as he strained to look for any source of visibility. All he could feel next was the tightening of some sort of cable, as it wrapped itself around his neck and lifted him rather effortlessly off of the ground and into the rafters - where he promptly fell unconscious from the pressure of an executed blow.

"...and neither are you."

The other False Faces began to panic, hearing that distinctive growl of a voice seem to reverberate from all around the room at them. Obviously being in Gotham, they recognized the voice immediately. And despite each of them being hardened criminals with multiple homicides under their belt, a few immediately considered dropping their weapons and running. There wasn't a man in this city that had tangled with The Bat and won in over fifteen years, and none of them felt particularly confident that they were about to be the exception. Especially in pitch black conditions, where they couldn't even see their guns infront of their faces, much less some living bogeyman who had made a regular habit of bringing down guys like them.

2:00

"Fox? Fox, where are you?! Where did you go, man?! I can't see shit!"

The large man, Shark, heard the sound of crackling leather behind him. Turning and firing his weapon wildly, he watched as a few bullets sparked off of the walls and illuminated the dark figure that was gliding directly towards him. With an impressive wingspan covering his descent, The Batman only made a single expression as he closed in: one of unbridled rage, a look that tore through the thug's soul and made him immediately regret his already questionable decisions in life. Before he knew it, he was out too, and all that had given his location away was the gruesome sound of hard bones shattering under soft flesh.

"AAARGH!"

Landing on the floor with a silent backflip, The Dark Knight's cowl gave him a readout of the darkened room through a sequenced infrared and night vision HUD. The Vulturehead was beginning to back towards a wall, still keeping a firm hold on the minigun. Batman sneered, realizing that if the idiot started opening fire, the room would be littered with the corpses of civilians at best. At worst, he'd strike the gas canisters attached to the bomb, blowing all of them sky-high. An additional sensor in the cowl indicated that the Vulturehead's pulse was rapidly rising, all but guaranteeing such a drastic measure would be taken soon. With a careful reach into the back of his belt, The Batman produced a remote Batarang, patterned with an artificial intelligence that could allow the wielder to control the path of its trajectory.

"S-Stay back! I'm warnin' you, freak! J-Just let this one go and back off! Back off or I'll shoot everyone in this fuckin' room, you hear me?!"

Raising the Batarang behind his head, Batman ignored the fact that if this didn't work, he'd provoke the man into jumping the gun and launching an assault. So this had to work, and it had to be done in one shot.

"I hear you."

With a careful pause, the eyes behind the cowl's lenses closed. He vaulted forward and tossed with precision, leaving the projectile to sail through the air and fly just above the Vulturehead's position. Automatic sensors in the Batarang locked onto the criminal's position, and after a spin, the metal shuriken came flying back down in an arc, driving a hard thrash into the back of the Vulturehead's skull. As he stumbled forward, completely taken off guard, Batman leaped into the air and drove both boots into the Vulturehead's chest, sending him careening directly into the wall behind him. The impact shook the room, and Batman landed, standing over the unconscious form of the Vulturehead as he remained partially embedded into the now caved-in bricks.

1:00

The Ox, Lion, and Tiger still remained, but Batman's attention was brought directly to the bomb. The fifty-nine-second countdown had already begun, and he wasn't surely engaging with the remaining three would be as beneficial towards getting the hostages out of harm's way. Sprinting for the bomb whilst searching in his belt for a pair of pliers, The Caped Crusader immediately felt an immense amount of pressure hit the back of his spine. Knocked to the ground, Batman immediately crawled onto his back, only to find that the Oxhead had gain a clear advantage over his peers: on top of his mask, he had managed to find and strap a pair of night-vision goggles to his face.

"Heh. Not so scary when youse isn't under the cover a' dark."

Throwing a massive punch directly towards The Dark Knight, the Oxhead's fist merely dislodged a chunk of plaster cement as Batman rolled backward. Throwing down a haymaker, the Ox forced the vigilante to go on the defensive, launching his knees up and catching both of his enemy's hands onto the armor surrounding his knees. Neither hit seemed to phase the Oxhead, seemingly boasting a high tolerance for pain.

"That all youse got?"

Spotting the Lionhead approach out of the corner of his eye, having followed the sounds of the scuffle, The Caped Crusader removed a grapnel gun from his belt and fired the harpoon-shaped hook directly at the Lionhead's shoulder, piercing it so hard that the hook became stuck in the wailing criminal's flesh. With a massive tug, Batman swung the Lionhead's body and tossed him directly into the Oxhead, sending him backward in a more staggered state as the Lionhead collapsed in a heap. The Caped Crusader steadied himself for another attack, shooting the Ox a glare.



"I can always give more."

Lunging himself into the air with a front flip to provide the necessary momentum, Batman brought down a hard elbow into the Oxhead's chest, followed by a flying roundhouse kick, a hard Muay Tai knee to the face, a series of jabs to the criminal's sternum, and finally a swinging haymaker uppercut. The Ox stumbled backward less than gracefully, managing to hit one of the diamond displays to narrowly catch himself from falling. While his enemy wasn't far from out, he wasn't exactly down either. Feeling a tightness begin to swell up in his lungs, Batman couldn't help but think to himself that if he were just a few years younger, this would have been over by now. But in the forefront of his mind, the vigilante remained fixated on the timer for the bomb. The limitations of age being a factor or not, all of them were quickly running out of time.

0:30

Wrap this up, Bruce...

Momentarily caught off guard by the stakes at hand, Batman snapped back to attention as soon as the Oxhead composed himself and began to rush towards the masked vigilante. Nearly four hundred pounds of sheer muscle shook the room as he approached, and to The Dark Knight's right, the other one still standing - the Tigerhead - had managed to find one of the fallen guns, preparing to use the noise of the conflict to aim directly at him. There were at least a couple of methods to quickly take out one of his attackers now, but there weren't many to take both out at the same time. Less than that to take both of them down and dismantle the bomb. But there was certainly a way, if he timed it just right.

0:20

Tucking and rolling just as the Oxhead was inches away from grabbing him, Batman pushed himself off of the ground and straightened himself into a full-body double kick. The heels of his boots landing squarely into the Oxhead's spine, The Dark Knight watched as the Tigerhead's gunshot, originally meant for him, pelleted the shoulder and kneecap of the Oxhead. Unable to keep himself standing for very much longer after that, the Ox shrieked in pain as he tumbled over much to the Tigerhead's surprise, falling directly into him with all four-hundred of those aforementioned pounds. The two men collided so hard that they sent the cart that held the bomb backward, giving it a rolling start as Batman grabbed the cart and started pushing it with a run.

0:10

Giving himself no time to think it over even once, The Caped Crusader let the cart loose as it rocketed towards the door to the vault of jewels that had been left wide open after the robbery. Hearing the bomb smack against the back of the wall inside, Batman sprinted directly for the vault door and grabbed it with both hands, pushing the entirety of his strength into pulling the massive metal door closed. After a momentary struggle, the vault door eventually gave in, it's hydraulics snapping firmly shut just as Batman counted the timer down under his breath. There were less than three seconds left by the time that he dived backward, leaped over a nearby display, and braced himself.

BOOOOOOOM!


Papers went flying, powdery bits of debris from the ceiling dropped like pellets of hail, most of the hostages screamed in the firm belief that their lives were over, the glass in each display case shattered instantaneously and something in the floor seemed to shift. But upon opening his eyes, The Batman looked out and breathed a sigh of relief. No one had been harmed, much less killed by the blast. The vault had been strong enough to contain it. Black Mask's plan had been foiled, even if only for the moment.

Rising to his feet, Batman slowly caught himself on a display, feeling the tightness in his lungs return. It was only a fleeting feeling, but it was enough to make him stop for a moment to collect himself. Then he began to breathe heavily, just as strained as the night that he'd nearly sent the thug working for The Clock King plunging towards certain death. He didn't know what was wrong, specifically, but he could feel that something was. It didn't feel like a heart attack, though experiencing any sign of one would have been perfectly understandable at that moment. And with Alfred's still-too-recent death still fresh in his mind, the possibility of a stroke was certainly ruled out...

Nevertheless, The Dark Knight rose into a straight stance as the hostages finally began to realize that they hadn't been blasted to kingdom come, and that they had in fact just been saved. Some of them crossed themselves and began a silent prayer, others looked towards the void of the darkness to try and catch a glimpse of their savior. The only thing that Batman himself noticed was that the Tigerhead - the only one still conscious, after all this, was still reaching in vain for a gun. He was partially crushed under the Ox, but was determined to get a shot in regardless.

The Batman stomped on the thug's hand as he moved past, hearing a satisfying crack of several fingers followed by a loud yelp. With all of the False Facers now incapacitated, all that was left to do was tie the would-be thieves and murders up for the police to collect. But as Batman searched for several pairs of cuffs that were stashed away in his utility belt, a message sent directly from Commissioner Gordon's phone appeared in the bottom left of his cowl's HUD.

City Morgue... Fifteen Minutes
Come Alone


The Dark Knight sighed to himself.

At this point, he was far past in the mood for anything else.

Perfectly timed as always.



"Thanks for coming on such short notice."

Commissioner James Gordon entered the waiting elevator and turned, holding the door open for his caped companion. Despite his overwhelming tiredness from the fight less than an hour prior, The Batman nodded once and complied, taking a step forward and turning towards the front as Gordon pressed the button that had been labeled 'the icebox' by a joking attendant. Even for their usual level of secrecy, Batman could already tell that something was different about whatever this was. Jim wasn't one to keep anything regarding a case very close to the chest with him, as the nature of their relationship relied on transparency. As much transparency as a man who had yet to divulge his real name to the other could manage, at least. Still, his observation of Gordon's body language indicated that the Commissioner was unusually tense for this type of meeting. The Dark Knight remained silent about this, out of respect for an old friend.

"Of course."

"I heard about the Diamond Exchange robbery. Black Mask?"

"Still in the wind. We press hard enough, Sionis will eventually play his hand."

"Right. Let's just hope that whenever he does, we can contain the collateral damage. With Freeze out there and whatever the hell Clock King is doing, the last thing we need right now is another loose end running amok on the streets."

Batman narrowed his eyes. He knows that Jim didn't mean it in the way it came out, but the vigilante couldn't help but feel that it was a passing judgment on his ability to keep this madness contained. But then again, it wasn't as if it were a thought that hadn't already crossed his own mind. At any given moment, it seemed, there were threats out there that could start a rampage capable of tearing Gotham apart. He'd done his best to keep them at bay, but it had never quite been enough to keep them all in Arkham at once. There was always at least one errant psycho on the loose. Had The Dark Knight pushed himself even harder towards the beginning, he imagined, this would never have been the case. But there was always something to be said for the fact that he was still only one man.

True, there were others now. And there had been others since toward the beginning. Robin had been the first, followed by Batgirl, and the rest seemed to fall into place as the years all blurred together. But there was never a moment when The Batman didn't consider Gotham City to be his own personal responsibility. Never a second where he didn't blame himself for not holding back the chaos as well as he could have, whether that was innately true or not.

"I'd actually meant to catch you up to speed on a few things last night, but I figured I'd be better off staying out of whatever you and your, erm... friend in the stars and stripes were up to."

The Batman outwardly ignored the comment. This was hardly the first time that Gordon's inherent bias against the so-called "superhuman" community had come about. Through no fault of his own, Gordon was an honest cop who had worked most of his life trying to establish order in a city full of chaos. The only times that he had frankly encountered anyone with special abilities on the streets of Gotham, they were usually the kind to try and lay waste to the men and women under his employ. The world beyond Gotham was one that he didn't fully ever understand, and The Dark Knight suspected that he wasn't a man who cared to. As far as he was concerned, there was the world that the men in capes and the superpowered individuals lived in, and then there was the real world. The fact that Gordon knew that Batman didn't possess any sort of special abilities was probably one of the only reasons that he'd come to trust the vigilante. No such complications to consider.

Though Gordon also didn't realize how needed the conversation with Director Rogers really was. The Caped Crusader was used to periods of self-doubt. It was the nature of the mission to reflect, to question everything. Fleeting moments in time where he was forced to scrutinize his own worth and assess whether he could pull himself out of the darkness. But the night that he nearly let that man fall was one that had shaken him to the core - perhaps even more than he'd known at the time. Before speaking to the Captain, Batman had considered whether it was time to re-evaluate whether he could do this anymore. Steve's words of encouragement, not to mention his fairly blunt honesty was enough to inspire the vigilante to weather the storm.

After all, he was right. It wasn't his job to keep doing this forever, as much as he had spent the years telling himself otherwise. It was his job to shepherd in the next wave of people willing to put their lives on the line to protect the innocent of Gotham. And as far as a legacy was concerned, The Batman realized that he could do alot worse than what he had. It was enough to shake him from the darkest thoughts that had kept him up that night.

"You know, speaking of the crazy times that we're living in. My daughter Barbara just received her doctorate over at Arkham."

Batman had already known this. Though he hadn't personally responded, the former Batgirl had shared her excitement over the new position with the rest of the family. There were congratulations shared, plans made to celebrate in person. The truth was, The Dark Knight didn't know how to feel about it yet. Though he would always fully support Barbara in whatever endeavor that she sought out, his growing cynicism towards the capability of Arkham Asylum to keep maniacs like The Scarecrow, Two-Face, Victor Zsasz and other regular denizens of it's hallowed halls made him wonder if her efforts weren't more useful out on the streets as Batwoman. But he wasn't one to criticize, especially when Barbara's idealistic crusade was one that he desperately wished that he could believe in.

"Congratulations. You must be proud."

The Commissioner smirked. "Oh, I am. Immensely. She strong-armed me for too many years to do something more about the situation over there, and I would always have to tell her that it wasn't a lowly cop's job to ensure that a high-security mental asylum kept it's inmates at bay. You just had to trust in the institutions that put them in place, no matter how many times they let us down. Barbara never believed that was enough."

Batman glanced over his shoulder at Gordon, who lit a fresh sample of tobacco in his pipe.

"Do you worry about her being over there? It isn't exactly the most ideal environment."

Gordon scoffed, with a light smoke billowing out of his nostrils.

"Only in as much as any father worries about his little girl. But I've learned time and time again that she's made of much sterner stuff than her old man ever was. She knew the risks long before now, and she understands any potential risk that comes with spending time among the patients. Besides, it isn't as though I could talk her out of it if I even tried. Stubborn as her mother, that one..."

The Dark Knight couldn't help but relate. He had always harbored some doubt in the idea that his own sons - whether it be Dick, Jason, Tim, or Damian - truly understood the risks necessary to embark on the same line of work that he'd trained himself to take on. When they initially became Robin, Batman had intentionally made it hard on all of them. Tried to get them to see that this path wasn't easy, that they were better off pursuing something resembling a normal life. But they each had their reasons, an unstoppable drive to keep trying to stay ahead and keep up the good fight. Even if he worried, he'd never be able to say that he hadn't been proud of them for defying his attempts to warn them and become something greater than he could've imagined.

Though in two notable cases, that journey was still a work in progress...

"Anyway, I just thought you might like to know that there's at least one doctor out there that we can both depend on. God knows, I've had my doubts about that place since the beginning. But if Barbara can make a difference with these nutjobs, maybe Arkham can still be salvaged."

The elevator dinged, indicating that they'd reached their stop. As the doors slid open, Gordon went ahead and indicated that Batman followed. Despite his apparent optimism regarding Barbara's promotion, The Dark Knight couldn't help but feel like his old friend was hiding something as they advanced. Like he was nervous and trying to use small talk to hide the true intent behind this visit. It wasn't more than a few steps forward before the vigilante felt it necessary to address the elephant in the room.

"Jim. Why are we here?"

Gordon was evasive, at first. But as they reached the end of a long hallway, he started to relent. There was hardly any point in keeping something from a man that many considered, though never himself, to be "The World's Greatest Detective".

"Three days ago, we got word from the Coast Guard that a stiff had been found in Gotham Harbor. They were conducting a routine test on the purity of the water leading into the reservoir. Scared the hell out of a couple of divers, but we eventually flushed the body out and had it returned here for forensics to I.D."

Batman raised an eyebrow. That's all?

"Those results came back this morning. And when I found out who it was, I made sure to prioritize our John Doe as a classification one. Autopsy results were to be for my eyes only, and it'll remain that way until I decide it's necessary to lift the veil. But I wanted you to see this before anyone else. The only other one to know at this point is Montoya, and I trust her to keep it quiet."

As they entered a chilled room that was practically littered with metal slabs and corpses obscured beneath white sheets, Gordon led Batman to a storage locker at the west end of the room. The Joe Doe had been marked under 'evidence', much to The Dark Knight's surprise.

"Do you remember the Moxon gang?"

Batman reacted to that, in as much as he could hardly forget.

"Lew Moxon. One of the city's earliest known gangsters. Preceded Carmine Falcone and the Maroni family by a few decades. Died of heart failure a decade ago, but lived well into his nineties."

Gordon gently pushed aside a slab on wheels that was blocking his way.

"Yeah, that guy. Well, there was a regular that Moxon used to pay to carry out a few low-level hits. We had him booked at least twice a year for thirty years, though he never quite made it to the state penitentiary. We actually thought we had him on a bigger case, once, but it turns out that there wasn't sufficient evidence to hold him. Save for an eyewitness who was stationed abroad. I heard that once Moxon cut ties, he sequestered himself in The Narrows. Became a junkie, eventually succumbed to the lifestyle. A sad end to a sad life, really."

Despite Gordon feeding him the details, The Batman was at a loss as to who he could be talking about. Most of Moxon's regulars had died well before the mobster passed away, and the few who lived remained at the criminal's side in his final days. The family had dissolved soon afterward, with their empire being absorbed by what was considered, at the time, to be Gotham's five families. Moxon's representatives had even tried to coax the head of Wayne Industries into taking a share, but he was swiftly turned away at the gate. Batman knew this because he distinctly remembered that day. Alfred had insisted on sanitizing the gates just after the man had left.

"Who was he? Did you need me to run some additional tests?"

Gordon paused, then sighed.

"No. Not really."

Opening the drawer to the storage locker, Gordon slowly pulled out a still-damp body. It had partially wasted away, the skin being translucent and all of the blood having long been evacuated from the now blued veins. Batman was actually shocked at the state of decay, given that it already told him that the body had been deceased for nearly two years. The Harbor should have easily torn what was left off of its skeleton, especially if it had been down there for that long.

Approaching the corpse from the other side, Batman immediately examined the head. An obviously old entry and exit wound stood out just left of the temple. That was sure to be what had killed the man, though The Dark Knight wondered if that was simply a way to hide the true method of expiration. Either way, the man had been clearly murdered.

"Batman, listen..."

"This man hasn't caused anyone any trouble for at least the last twenty-four months. If you're worried about whether this will start up any lingering gang war between the other families, you said it yourself, Jim. He was small-time."

Gordon's tone became harsh. "Would you just listen to me for a second?"

Looking up at his friend, Batman stood back from the body.

"I called you here because I knew you'd want to hear it from me. The victim's not just your average John Doe, and once word gets out of who he was, it'll be a media circus. I just wanted you to have a first crack at it, since it's probably in your best interest to get a lead on this."

The Dark Knight sneered.

Whatever had spooked Gordon so much about this case, the vigilante was getting tired of this.

"His name."

There was a long, almost deafening silence between the two.

"Chilton. Joseph Chilton."

And all of the world around them suddenly went mute, save for The Commissioner's next unbelievable words.

"Joe Chill."
In Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game] → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The Avengers has probably aged the most poorly of the MCU, in that it was great when it came out and now is kind of a chore to get through because you more easily recognize the lack of overall big budget directing experience that Whedon possesses. Jon Faverau or Joe Johnston would have done a better job.

As far as any controversial opinions that I have about the MCU, I think Doctor Strange's solo movie gets a unnessescary flack. It made me care about the character and his world for perhaps the first time, and I think had there been more scenes with the villain to flesh him out a bit, it would be among my favorites of the series. As it stands, even, it kind of is.

I also think Thor: Ragnarok is severely overrated. Love Taika, but he really went out of his way to make a more fan-fictiony movie than a Thor movie good on it's own merits. Thor's best movie appearances are easily Infinity War/Endgame for me, with the first Thor tailing distantly behind. Those movies seemed to get what works about him, and Ragnarok feels like it's about this entirely other thing that I care less about.
In Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game] → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
What are your unpopular superhero/superhero media opinions?


I've said it before and I'll probably say it again, I find Ben Affleck to be a highly overrated Batman. But my issue with the casting has always been that I think they made a mistake by casting a well known, well established actor to play the role. When Adam West, Michael Keaton, Val Kilmer, George Clooney, and Christian Bale were all cast, they had maybe one or two notable hits if that. Their careers were in their infancy compared to their post-Batman notoriety. Affleck had a whole ass career of ups and downs and was a known celebrity, so it was hard to really buy him as the character without just seeing Ben Affleck in a tuxedo/batsuit.

Which is interesting, because Robert Pattinson is similarly more established at this point than those aforementioned actors. But I also think he's more of a chameleon type of actor, so he may pull it off. I don't know.

Point being, the only Batman that really counts is Kevin Conroy.
In Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game] → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

"Right. I need to take this back, relay what I can to Romanoff and figure out what's next-" His phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket, groaning as he did so. There was always something else. Fury better have a damn good reason for skipping town. "-right I have to get back to the carrier. I have Vegas to deal with now." He clicked his homing beacon, sending the signal to the waiting quinjet. Steve walked towards the edge of the building, though stopped and turned as he had a thought. "Before you disappear into the night however, how's Grayson doing?"

Ever the conversationalist...

The Batman's demeanor turned cold, having already fallen back into the shadows in the midst of Director Rogers' call. As much as he respected the legendary Captain and all that he'd been able to accomplish in an extensive career, there was apart of The Caped Crusader that strongly felt this particular charade of Fury's had been a waste of both his and Rogers' time. Having dealt with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s continued interest in his own affairs in Gotham over the last few years had already soured Batman's opinion of the global peacekeeping organization by itself, nevermind having been expected to decode more of the Colonel's spy games for stakes that likely didn't concern anyone beyond the usual suspects. For Batman's part, he couldn't be more disinterested in wherever Fury was hiding - at least, as long as he stayed out of his city. There were always more relevant matters to address.

"Nightwing is... fine."

Already having turned his back, ready to disembark on his nightly patrol, Batman stopped for a moment to dwell in the idea that this could be the last time the two men spoke for a while. Gotham had been restless ever since the flood struck last year, leaving hundreds of people homeless. Most had turned to crime, feeling as though they had been given no other options despite a plea from The Wayne Foundation that jobs were to be created following the recovery effort. The resulting few months had left Batman in a state that seemed even more dour. Among... other recent events.

He couldn't imagine that it'd been much easier for Steve, given that the wannabe soldier-turned-living symbol for an entire country had been quickly promoted to the highest position over a network of individuals whose jobs it had been to undermine half of the transparency that Captain America spent his life advocating for. It wasn't an enviable task, though there was little doubt in anyone's mind that Rogers wasn't up for it. Which was perhaps the problem in the long run. No one dared to question whether he had been the right man for it. Least of all, the man who preceded him.

"...Blüdhaven is lucky to have him. I just worry that the city is going to tear into him more than Gotham did to me at his age."

A silence hung over the two for a moment, before Batman glanced over his shoulder.

"Steve. If I could have a word."

The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed genuinely caught off guard by the request, but nevertheless nodded, apparently indicating a 'standby' motion to some unseen craft awaiting him in the clouds.

"You've been apart of every major conflict that this country's seen since World War II. You were at the forefront of The Cold War, Vietnam, The Gulf War... when faced with all of that horror, it would have been easy to become disillusioned. To turn your back on it all and give up."

A sense of melancholy hung on The Dark Knight's tone, as his caped silhouette stood at the edge of the building. He stared out across the skyline of the city he'd sworn to protect. It all suddenly seemed much bigger than he'd ever noticed before.

"And you didn't. Despite it all, you persevered. I just wanted... no, I need to know."

Turning around fully, Batman's gaze was affixed to the man who'd shouldered a lifetime of burdens. A man who was much older than him, but hadn't seemingly cracked under the same mortal limitations that the vigilante was beginning to fear were creeping up on him.

"Does it ever get easier?"
In Sensation & Wonder: An Absolute Comics Roleplay [DC & Marvel One Universe Style Game] → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Steve reached to his back pocket and pulled out a small smartphone. He still couldn't get over the fact that this tiny device had more computing power than anything that had existed back when he had gotten the serum. The level of progress made by the world was staggering. He scrolled through the phone as he spoke. "Everything I have is on here, which isn't a lot. All I know is he was investigating reports of Hydra deploying the Winter Soldier out of Sokovia. I've sent Romanoff to see if she can dig up more on that end."

Pulling up the photos he handed the phone over to Bruce. "As first on the scene we handled all the crime scene photos, before Waller muscled her way in and convinced the UN that since it happened on US soil that ARGUS should handle the investigation."

He pulled out his old notepad, flicking through the pages until he found the notes he was looking for. "From what we gathered on the scene, and this is all unconfirmed as we never got to keep the physical evidence. We estimated that there were three shooters, other than Fury. Scuff marks and a blood trail indicated they went north from the car however no other traffic cameras in the area seemed to witness anything untoward." Steve pointed to with his free hand to the phone. "All these notes are in there, I just prefer old fashioned pen and paper."


Something's off...

Scanning over each detail of the photos presented by Rogers as carefully as he could, The Batman's immediate reaction to the crime scene was that it was as if looking at a jigsaw puzzle that had undergone a complete reconstruction - with a single piece replaced. There was a detail staring at The Dark Knight almost instantaneously, subliminally pinpointing his attention towards everything else and enhancing what fit the scene so that his mind could do the work of determining what didn't. It was one of about a hundred different methods of deduction - take the subject of analysis, work backward to ascertain the problem, then find the solution within the problem itself - that he had been taught many years before by some of the keenest deductive minds on the planet.

The interior of Fury's vehicle had been riddled with high-impact armor-piercing rounds. The ballistics attached to the document running counter to the image file had confirmed as much, but what likely wasn't in the accident report was that the rounds were fired at a specific angle. Batman had seen this specific pattern at work before - it was a million-to-one shot that only a series of highly-trained marksmen could pull off once, let alone in succession with multiple shooters all converging on the scene at the same time. There had been an attempt to hide it in the manner that the windshield had been blown apart. It had been shattered from the outside, but the glass hadn't been completely destroyed.

Hardly surprising, given that Nick Fury held access to the most advanced espionage defenses in the world - there was a secondary bulletproof pane of glass behind the outer windshield, likely activated during the skirmish. But what was surprising to The Dark Knight was that the trajectory of the break in the bulletproof pane suggested that it had been broken from within. And while it would be easy to suggest that this was a result of a violent struggle within the vehicle itself, as an old war dog like Fury would never go quietly without a substantial reason, Batman suspected something else once he noticed a certain detail hidden just beyond the broken glass and bullet holes. That subliminal message that had been rattling around in the forefront of his mind.

Without missing a beat, The Batman held up the phone so that he could illustrate.

"The blood spatter. Take a look at the pattern on the dashboard."

Director Rogers squinted, staring for a moment before indicating that nothing seemed out of place.

"That's a pattern common within a certain type of vehicular homicide. Which would ordinarily suggest that Fury was murdered by an enemy convoy, except..."

Batman's gaze narrowed. "Why would there have been both a gunfight and a struggle to incapacitate Fury if he'd already been murdered?"

Taking that into consideration, Rogers was handed the phone back as The Dark Knight elaborated.

"There's enough blood to suggest a fatal crash, and yet the supposed victim was pelted with rounds that would pierce a tank. Except that if you look closely, each individual bullet entered at an angle. They weren't shooting at Nick, Captain. They were shooting around him. Carefully coordinated with instruction to make it look as bleak as possible."

Pointing to a specific part of the photo that Rogers was currently going over, Batman made sure to direct his eyes towards the shattered glass.

"The outer-pane of glass was taken out by ballistics. That's indisputable. What's odd is the inner-pane, which was shattered from inside the vehicle. Wouldn't make any sense for an attacking convoy to break it down that thoroughly, even by accident. Which means that it wasn't used to break into the vehicle. It was used to hide something. A detail small enough to escape Waller's eye, but large enough for you and I to find."

Registering a look of pure confusion, the old man was clearly waiting for a more concrete answer than that. Batman folded his arms over his chest, knowing that what he was about to say would likely change the course of the investigation - but also knowing that it was, in all likelihood, the truth.

"The inconsistency with the blood spatter. The angle of the bullets. Obvious misdirection by themselves, but visually indistinct when hidden behind a sheen of shattered protective glass. A trick that only a few would know... likely, they would be on the level of an ex-spy with a record as long as Fury's."

Finally, conclusively, Batman's tone grew colder.

"You and I both know that there aren't any living spies with a record as long as Fury's. Which can only mean one thing."



"Nick orchestrated this himself."
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