Roman

Villains 'R' Us

Is there a plot, or will it be mostly free-form? Are all accepted characters being played as members of this group of villains, or are we permitted to pursue our own goals and even conflict with other players over territory, money, business, etc? Are there any restrictions on the entities we may choose our characters to be and the abilities they may or may not have, or are we free to create a ghost or undead creature alongside the human villains?

Interested, but a sheet submission is certainly pending more information.

Titans!

Oh, just for reference; Black Mask hasn't hired Deathstroke yet, DSW. He's just keeping it in the pipeline.

Titans!

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"Or because they've moved their operation..."

From the other end of a CCTV camera, Penguin watched the two vigilantes break in and find nothing but an opened, empty crate. Empty, save for a single porcelain figurine of a certain black-and-white bird. Penguin watched as Red Hood toe-punted it, smashing the statue in frustration. He grunted in amusement, and then turned, the semi-smirk quickly fading as he matched his gaze with the obsidian eyes that stared out from beneath the mask. Roman Sionis cast an intimidating figure, stood in the shadows of the grungy metal room. His eyes betrayed no emotion.

They were aboard Penguin's ship - the Final Offer - docked in Gotham Harbor, and Black Mask was a less-that-welcome guest - but invited nonetheless. It begrudged Penguin even more that he now owed Black Mask thanks - and had been saved a large amount of business by the man's 'advice'. It had been 'advice' received on the end of bullying and the threat of more...Penguin was not a physically intimidating man, and Sionis knew this, Sionis knew he was a coward. A scrupulous businessman and a sampler of the finer tastes, Penguin was. A fighter and one to stand against someone even more brutish than he, he was not. Black Mask thought that perhaps his empire might not be so hard to reclaim. Penguin's drug trade was minutes away from falling under his hand, and others could simply be bought out with the income Penguin was to kindly forward him - but there were other bosses in Gotham, ones with more loyal followers, ones with no fear of pain and intimidation. Black Mask could think of one right now. Or was that two?

"Fine." Penguin said, finally, his voice a rough cockney accent, carrying a envenomed edge. "If your...'Society' can smooth out the smuggling operation, then I'll pass 20% on to you." Black Mask didn't move, but Tattoo did. Coming out of the doorway, he pushed forward and seized Penguin by the fur collar of his coat, pulling the stubby, sneering man up and out of his chair. He raised a fist and brought it down, sucker-punching Penguin in the gut, releasing him at the same time. Penguin fell to the floor onto his knees and wheezed. Tattoo stepped backward as Black Mask finally moved, taking a pace closer to Penguin and bending at the hip, hands clasped in each other behind his back.

"That's not what we agreed on, Cobblepot." He straightened up, walking around Penguin to stand behind him and help him up, placing one hand under his shoulder and the other gripping his forearm. "And I didn't save your best dealer from both Blackgate and the Bat so you could-" Black Mask moved his hands down quickly as Penguin stood and seized the index and middle fingers of his hand, clasping them together and pulling tightly back- "cheap me out of what is rightfully mine anyway." Penguin yelled and went back to his knees, cradling his now-broken fingers in his other hand. "You're lucky I didn't sink this sorry excuse for a ship with you on it and just...'inherit' your operation. 60% is what I asked for. 60% is what I'll get."

Penguin looked up, furious and in pain. He spat, but finally nodded. Black Mask's eyes were still empty of feeling, his heart barely beating. He straightened the sleeves of his suit jacket and buttoned it up, nodding to Tattoo, who helped Penguin up and handed him a splint and bandage for his fingers. "Good choice, Mr. Cobblepot. I'll expect my first share in the morning. Don't try to cheat me."
Black Mask and Tattoo left, leaving Penguin alone in the Final Offer, contemplating how he had just lost the majority of the only business he had managed to truly seize as his own in this town.

Back on dry land, Tattoo walked slightly behind Black Mask, keeping an eye on alleys and the shadows behind shipping containers as they paced back to Sionis' car, the all-black Bentley that had taken them from Blackgate. They got in, Tattoo sitting facing Black Mask, driving away to the penthouse apartment Black Mask owned under a pseudonym. They were quiet for a time, and then Black Mask spoke. His voice was gravelly, but there was a tone of satisfaction at the edges.
"Is the Shark still in Arkham?" He asked, and Tattoo nodded.
"Yes, sir. Since his...incident with Freeze, he's been in a solitary cell with regulated breaks. But he's been using the breaks well." Black Mask smiled slightly beneath the mask, turning to the tinted, one-way window.
"So I've heard. His rackets will be useful. See to it that we get them. Or him, if not otherwise possible. One cannot build an empire without the currency to fund it, and Penguin's drug trade won't be enough on its own. Not with 60%." Tattoo raised an eyebrow, clearly quizzical. Black Mask waved down the question he knew was coming. "Because he knew I wanted it all, he knows how I get what I want and he knows he's lucky I let him keep his life, let alone the 40%. He's under our thumb, and his men will answer to him more readily than me. For the time being, at least."

Black Mask looked out the window again. "Dent is our problem. He can't be bullied like Cobblepot. And his men are loyal to him over money. It'll have to be a...hostile takeover." Tattoo smirked, his hand unconsciously stroking the handle of the pistol on his side. Black Mask felt the weight of his own firearms, two automatic pistols hidden beneath his jacket in discreet shoulder holsters. "Dent and the Bat." He said, almost spitting the word. "And his young upstart wanna-be. The Bat I'll outmaneuver, when I decide to let him know I'm back to business. But if that kid sticks his nose in, call Wilson. I want it cut off and shipped to Blüdhaven."

Tattoo nodded. The car drove on.

Titans!

Black Mask and Deathstroke have had dealings before, I'm sure they'll have them again. Feel free to initiate something, but Sionis has no need to hire Slade as it is.

Titans!

Nightrunner said
It's up to you to make up.

Penguin running a drug trade in the Docks District, coming up.

Titans!

So can I just ask what sort of other supervillains I can expect as current powers in Gotham? Even as NPC's. I'd just like to know who I'll be de-throning.

The Mavericks: Valiant Heroics

Cassie left the meeting with Locke – ‘meeting’ here being a word for ‘lambasting’ and ‘humiliation for amusement and pathetic ego kicks’ – hurriedly and with her head down. She mumbled a vague apology when some monolithic mountain that she presumed was a man (but couldn’t be quite sure) bumped her shoulder and sent her other shoulder into the wall of the hallway but paid no other mind and kept on. She hated Locke. She hated the city which, for all intents and purposes, was Locke’s. She hated that she worked for Locke. But far above all of those emotions of disdain and loathing, a pillar standing tall and burning bright…she hated that she needed Locke. She needed his money, needed the home he gave her. Needed him so she could look after Jo. And it was with that thought that she decided what to do with the rest of her day.

Jo was at school when Cassie arrived at her apartment - her actual institute of education being separate to the Kilbride College Academy where the shooting had taken place. The apartment was empty, Jo’s part-time ‘carer’ (maid and bodyguard) having no reason to stay during the days Jo went to school, and Cassie let herself in with the spare key Locke had given her at the start of all this mess. It was still before noon, and Jo wouldn’t return until gone four, but Cassie could wait. Patience was a virtue she held in great quantities. She amused herself by flicking through Jo’s books, and her record collection, eventually growing bored with both and, exhausted from the lack of sleep she’d suffered since the shooting, fell asleep on the sofa a little after one.

She was woken up by the soft shaking from a hand on her shoulder, the arm of which extended into the blurry form of Cassie’s sister. Jo shifted into focus as Cassie sniffed and rubbed her eyes, shedding sleep dust and blinking a couple times while she pushed herself up into a seated position, leaning against the back cushioning of the plush leather sofa. She smiled lazily and pulled Jo into a one-armed half-hug. "Afternoon, sis." Jo said, and Cassie chuckled.

"How was school, Jo?" She asked, standing up and stretching as Jo walked away from the lounge are into the attached kitchen and flipped the switch for the kettle. She replied as it started bubbling.
"Boring. People knew I was at Kilbride CA. It was a lot of fawning or a lot of avoiding." The kettle clicked again and Jo turned, pulling two mugs from an under-unit cupboard. She quickly brewed two coffees, handing one to Cassie. "The teachers were being careful too. I just wanted to study and leave, not be hounded for details or petted with sympathy. Policeman came in, though."

Cassie looked up at Jo over the rim of her mug. She was taller than her younger sister, but not by much, and at times like these, Jo being so stoic and straight-forward, she felt like the dynamic between them had been reversed. "Really? What about?" She asked, continuing the conversation with minimal involvement. She could control herself expertly, but around her sister, it was always harder to hide. And Jo invariably knew regardless.

Jo sipped from her mug, savouring the flavour and the scent. "An explanation. Dumbed down, obviously. I guess a warning, too? Our 'legal guardians' have been permitted to pull us out for a while without it affecting our attendance records, and the work will be sent home so we can keep up with the syllabus. I have elected to stay at school." Jo cleared her throat.

Cassie smiled sympathetically, and they stood in silence for a few minutes as they finished their drinks, placing their mugs in the sink. Jo sighed, and took a long look at Cassie. She looked tired, and Cassie knew it. Her occupation was taking its toll on her, emotionally and physically. There was a lot more weighing Cassie down than simple sleep deprivation. Cassie coughed, the silence feeling awkward, and knowing that Jo was inspecting her. She was uncomfortable talking about the KCA shooting, for obvious reasons, but Jo didn't know about what she did, and she wanted to keep it that way.
"I have to get going...there's work I need to do for the doctor." Cassie said, making an excuse to leave Jo's scrutinization. She turned to take her scarf off the hook by the front door of the apartment and stood with her back to Jo, wrapping it around her neck carefully, when her sister spoke and made her freeze.

"I went to...to Tom's, before I came here." Cassie noticed her voice. Wavy. Forced bravery. A tone she'd heard plenty after the death of their parents. "My...my date. T-to the dance." Cassie hung her head. Tom was dead, Locke had told her that. And now Jo knew, and maybe Tom was the first real chance Jo had had for a normal life, and now he was dead, and Locke had taken him from her, and anger built up in Cassie as she heard a small sob escape from Jo. She suppressed it and whirled around, moving quickly across the room to take Jo into her arms and hug her tightly. In response, Jo gave up her pretense and began crying in earnest, clinging tightly to her older sister for some kind of comfort, something solid to hold on to. Cassie wept too, silently, shedding tears for the life Jo would never get to have now, for the things that had happened to them, for the things that Locke had done to them...she heard Jo choking out some words, a muffled murmur from the face buried into her scarf and shoulder. She leant back, letting Jo be heard.

"His whole f-family. In a car collison..." She bit back tears but failed to stop them and they wormed down her face, dripping off the end of her nose. "They told me not to use my powers but I did and now he's dead and his mom and dad are dead and it's just like our parents, just like them, it's me, it's my fa-" her words tumbled out and Cassie didn't let her finish the sentence, squeezing Jo's shoulder and whispering a soothing hush.
"No, no Jo, it's not, it's not your fault, and neither were mom and dad, nothing was your fault..." She stroked the back of Jo's hair as she clung to Cassie's back, and slowly, slowly Jo calmed down. "It was an accident, just like mom and dad. It was not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. There was nothing you could have done. It's no one's fault." Cassie wavered at the end, sounding unconvincing even to herself. "Tom's death was nobody's fault."

Jo separated. Her weeping had stopped but her cheeks were stained and her mascara ran. "It is." She said, sniffing and wiping her eyes. "You know it's not mine, but it is someone's fault." Cassie said nothing, but she sighed, and Jo saw a mournful exhaustion in her eyes. She relented. "You don't have to tell me. But...thank you." She hugged Cassie again. They looked at each other, both sniffing from crying and makeup ruined, and chuckled a bit. "Dad always did that." Jo said. "He always knew you weren't saying something, and he let you not say it." Cassie smiled. She'd forgotten, but Jo was right. Their father always knew, and always knew not to pry.

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about their parents. Jo's carer arrived and quickly left again after he realised Cassie was there, giving the sisters space. The reminisced long into the evening, and eventually moved topics, talking about Jo's schooling, her future, Cassie's activities, Jo spinning wild theories about their 'mysterious' benefactor (Cassie pulling pained and sympathetic smiles, Jo smirking knowingly but saying nothing). Cassie caught up on all she'd missed, and felt like Jo's big sister again, not just a girl with a rifle looking out for her from the other end of a scope. Eventually, inthe early hours of the morning, they both fell asleep, collapsed on the sofa, laughs and tears shared in equal measures.

Cassie woke with the sun, the light streaming through the large eastern-facing windows of Jo's apartment. She rose quietly from the sofa, leaving Jo asleep. There was a faint smile on her face, and Cassie smiled herself. She left a note, and then left the apartment. It was time to find her targets.

Titans!

”Funny meeting you here.”

Ghost Rider stopped her rhythmic pounding. Fists slowed and lowered, and the glow of the runes faded. The marks were strong. But Zarathos’ will would not be held for long. She looked at Kyle, another member of the Young Avengers, one that was often spearheading a solo enterprise in a different corner of the world. Inside, Dani fought for control, hope renewed by the sight of one of her teammates. They were coming for her! She fought for words, but Zarathos silenced her. It was still stronger than her, and Ghost Rider was still an entity that refused a leash. The flames licked up her skull as she turned to face the boy.

“Lantern.” She said, voice bubbling with heat and the echo of a hundred souls. She pounded on the bars again, and screamed in frustration and anger – a terrifying sound that chilled your bones with fear – as the runes glowed and sparked and stood strong again. She leant closer and inspected the bars. The runes hissed from her proximity, but now that she looked at them closer, she saw that the marks were…amateur. Roughly hewn, lines vague and wobbly in places. They were not the carefully drawn spells and incantations of the grand Doctor Strange. They were weaker. They were…exploitable.

”Shield the bars.” She commanded, indicating for Kyle to coat the bars in the energy from his ring. He did so, and the bars glowed green. She grasped the bars, hands now able to grip the inscribed metal with the protective layer – but still close enough to garner a reaction from the runes. She leant forward, both hands gripping, and channelled Hellfire into her hands. Fire burst up her wrists from the sleeves of her jacket, and the runes began to react, slowly at first, and then sparking and a deep ringing as the magic began to overload. Ghost Rider began to scream with the effort and the retaliation of the runes and channelled more Hellfire into her hands, pushing harder and harder... ”NOW.” She roared, and Kyle dropped the shielding – and the runes gave out. They screamed in destruction and the bars exploded, shattering into tiny fragments and instantly melting in Ghost Rider’s fire. She hunched over, the conjuring exhausting her, but then began chuckling, a light chortle that morphed into a deep, throaty laugh.

”Ahhh. Freedom, and the night is yet young. Red Skull is escaping.” She said, sighing wistfully.
“And how are we going to catch him?” Kyle asked, and there was a strange moment where somehow, the unmoving, flaming skull that was Ghost Rider’s face seemed to be smirking somehow. Her voice was smooth and almost a purr. As she spoke, a horse of bone and fire and little muscle constructed itself from the ground in front of them both, Ghost Rider herself putting a foot into a stirrup and and swinging herself up into the saddle.

”Kyle….we ride.”

Titans!

Just a heads up, DSW - Mandarin was in Metropolis. Blackgate was Black Mask breaking out.

Titans!

You posted YA-related but nothing I could actually work off of! I want to play with my flaming-skull demon girl, people, adhere to my desires.