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The gap in the door... it's a separate reality.
The only me is me.
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In Absolute Comics Presents - What If? [A DC & Marvel One Universe RP] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
#1.01: A Fine Day
Earth-93913003, Gotham City

"It's a fine day in Gotham City."

Oswald Cobblepot stood proud and as tall as his stout, pudgy frame could allow him, his back to the Antarctic Industries boardroom table. The mahogany slab propped up on black iron struts was the closest thing the otherwise starkly-white room got to warm: one wall was a blank white space, barren but for the swirls of paint failing to provide character; the opposite featured a painting similarly devoid of life, some great and terrible acrylic storm of whites and grays that supposedly depicted a vast, frigid tundra; the third wall - the one Oswald was facing now, as he supped whiskey far too expensive for its comparative quality from a glass clutched in his sweaty, stubby fingers - was an edge-to-edge, floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out across the polluted, smog-stained skyline of Gotham City.

Behind him, a cavalcade of portly white men sat around the table smiling and offering each other knowing, self-congratulatory nods and handshakes and dignified chuckles. To the side of the head of the table, offset to Oswald's position but carrying his own air of self-importance and subtle authority, stood the only in-shape man in the room, a thin gentleman with a tidy coif of hair and a pencil mustache. In his right hand he held a thin cigarillo, smoke trailing upwards from the tip, and in his left a tablet, from which he'd just delivered the news they were all patting themselves on the back about: the twelfth consecutive quarter of profit growth against the previous financial year. Warren White - the man holding the tablet, and Antarctic Industries' Chief Financial Officer - was hailed as an industry prodigy and a financial genius, and his tenure on Oswald's executive board certainly lent credence to his reputation. Antarctic was a monolith in Gotham's financial landscape - over the last three years, their already heavy industry presence had only ramped up to monopolistic levels, and the company subsequently now handled the majority of east-coast imports and exports.

"Yes, a fine day in Gotham indeed." Cobblepot continued, turning around to raise his glass to the board, who all offered back empty-handed raised arms. Oswald kept only his personal supply in the building, and his subordinates were not permitted to partake. "But a finer day in this very room. Antarctic Industries continues to flourish under my leadership. This company has soared to heights my father never dreamed of! Truly, Antarctic Industries is a titan - and there is still plenty of opportunity for further growth."

Around the table, board members delivered the general murmured buzz of agreement and congratulation, as was expected of them. They were, after all, mostly figureheads, kept on mainly for their ability to stroke Cobblepot's ego. Sure, a couple had actually delivered the so-called 'duties' of their so-called 'job roles', both for Antarctic and other companies before Antarctic - but since the passing of Elijah, Oswald's father, and Oswald's subsequent takeover and revamping of the organization, Antarctic had seen unparalleled growth that was, frankly, ambivalent to their input or lack thereof, and this had only spiked further with Warren White's entry to the company.

Of course, the unspoken catalyst of this massive growth was Oswald's empire as the singular drug kingpin of Gotham, ruling the city from its underbelly as the Penguin. Warren was instrumental as well, utilizing his financial acumen to artfully fold the illicit revenue stream into the company's legal (and public) profits, laundering their own dirty money through little more than carefully managed bank accounts and ledgers. Whether the rest of the board knew or cared was inconsequential; if they knew, they didn't speak of it, and if they cared, they definitely didn't speak of it.

"Cheers to industry, gentlemen." Oswald finished, sneering from beneath his crooked nose in the best approximation of a sincere smile he could manage. "And to another fine day in Gotham City."

- - -

"It's a fine day in Gotham City."

Gotham City Police Department Street Officer James 'Jimmy' Gordon raised his eyebrows in shock as a scrawny man in a ratty hoodie and stained cargo pants spat on his newly-polished shoes as he walked past, hustling away before Jimmy could even muster the energy to be angry, let alone pursue him; a few bystanders who'd seen the act chuckled, and a couple more accelerated their weary, dead-eyed shuffles, lest they be caught up in any incoming retribution. Jimmy looked at his foot, grimacing as the thick, phlegm-speckled wad of saliva slowly dripped down the toe of his shoe.

All of this occurred mere micro-seconds before his partner, Detective Harvey Bullock, reappeared from the bodega Jimmy was currently leaning against, and spouted the bizarre, impromptu statement. Harvey had one hand inside his jacket, squirreling away what Jimmy knew was a small brown envelope of cash, while the other was clutching a thick breakfast sandwich, bacon grease slowly oozing out the sides of the bread and down Harvey's fingers. Jimmy snatched away a paper napkin from Harvey's hand and bent over to wipe off his shoe.

"I don't know that that's ever been true in the history of this city." Jimmy said once he'd stood up, and the two of them crossed the street back to their police cruiser. Harvey was already sinking his yellowing teeth into the sandwich, and yolk and ketchup stained his scruffy, unkempt beard. The two men stood on opposite sides of the car, Jimmy waiting on Harvey to unlock the doors, Harvey leaning on the roof as he polished off the sandwich in three more gargantuan bites. With one last impressive swallow, he took another napkin and wiped his face down.
"See, that's your problem, Gordon. You still haven't fished out the bug that crawled up your ass and died."

Jimmy scoffed, shaking his head. His tidy appearance was almost a perfect mirror of Harvey's half-assed attempt to look presentable; the pressed GCPD uniform cut a fine figure down Jimmy's well-exercised body, with the uniform peaked cap sat neatly atop an orderly, practical haircut and his handsome face accessorized by a pair of stylish-yet-subtle glasses and a trimmed, well-groomed mustache perched over a strong, clean-shaven jawline. Harvey was a dark reflection - street clothes creased and stained from the days he'd been wearing it previous, a wild unshaven beard, and greasy hair that cascaded down his neck from beneath a beat-up and raggedy trilby. The two men could not look more unsuited to pairing if they'd actively tried. Harvey finally shoved the keys into the car door and unlocked the cruiser, and the two men slunk down into their seats almost in unison, the cruiser rocking from side to side as the aging chassis took on their weight.

"That 'bug' is a goddamn moral code, Bullock." Jimmy replied, his voice almost a low growl as he buckled his seatbelt. This time it was Harvey's turn to scoff, shaking his head as he stuck the keys in the ignition and turned, the cruiser's engine sputtering to life and a plume of soot erupting from the exhaust. "And I'll be cold in the ground before I throw that away like the rest of this damn city."
"The way you're going, Jim-bo, you might not have that long a wait ahead of you. A moral code is one thing, but where's your self-preservation instinct?"

At this, Jimmy did actually have to concede Harvey had a point. The engine rumbled as Bullock kicked it into gear and they rolled into a light cruise along Gotham's main avenues, Harvey picking corners seemingly at random; with Harvey's 'pick-ups' done for the day and no one specific incident to respond to, the pair had the morning to simply make sure they would be seen. In this town, police presence was a reminder to pay your dues and keep to your own business. It certainly wasn't so that the community could feel safe and secure.

"No one's got a shit to give about me, Bullock, before you start getting soft on me." Jimmy said, prompting a quick eye-roll from Harvey. "One measly cadet no one likes versus the entire force of the GCPD? I'm so insignificant I don't even count as small-fry."
Harvey nodded sagely, already tuning out from Gordon's self-pitying diatribe. Many hours in this cruiser had been spent discussing the dearth of ethics and principles within the police force and the city at large; Harvey had long consigned himself to the pointlessness of rallying against it, even before his assignment as Jimmy's partner. In a way, Jimmy reminded Harvey of his younger, more idealistic self. He wondered if Jimmy, in turn, saw in him his likely future self.

For his part, Jimmy simply took to staring out the window at the passing city, watching the drunks and addicts stumbling on the pavements, the domestic disputes spilling out of front doors into the streets, the purse-snatchers, extortioners, the over-worked, the living-out-of-their-cars. Every fresh tragedy another counted failure for Gotham as a city.
"After all," he said, his final musing for the morning before resigning to a familiar sullen silence that Harvey far preferred over high-minded moral rhetoric, "what can one man do against an entire city?"

- - -

"It's a fine day in Gotham City."

Mayor Aubrey James, a toad-like, sweaty man, stood at the podium in front of city hall and paused for dramatic effect. In front of him a sea of reporters and members of public office pointed cameras and microphones and held pencils carefully against paper; he took a moment to adjust his too-tight tie against the flabby flesh of his neck that spilled from his collar, and drew a breath to continue.

"Yes, a fine day in Gotham City indeed. When the good people of Gotham sensibly voted myself as their elected official to lead this city into new, more prosperous times, I was sworn in with the promise of delivering real, tangible change - no wishy-washy, vague policies that could be hand-waved and delayed." He paused again, clammy hands slipping slightly where they gripped the edges of the podium. He withdrew a monogrammed handkerchief from his jacket pocket and carefully dabbed his forehead. "I promised to bring stability to the economy and new, affordable housing to the people - and look at our great city today. Home-grown, grassroots, Gotham-led companies aren't just stable but thriving, bringing jobs and revenue to the city at levels Gotham has never seen before. The Narrows Restoration Project is well-underway, with a planned 10,000 new homes over the next two years, all with affordable, long-term leases attached."

There was scattered-but-steady applause across the crowd, and Mayor James paused again to allow those scribbling feverishly to catch-up. It had been a strong first year of his term, at least by Gotham Mayor standards, and his office knew that if he delivered in the Narrows, he was a shoo-in for re-election. Even in a city as execrable as Gotham, the Narrows were especially heinous, a buzzing hive of the worst the city and its population had to offer.

"Of course, our work in the Narrows wouldn't be possible without the proper funding, and my platform of unburdening the taxpayer remains steadfast! Gotham's tax-paying citizens already pay for our fine public services, and we cannot expect to maintain the quality of these services if we expect the common men and women of Gotham to fund the Narrows Restoration project as well. To this end, my office has spear-headed a brand new platform of shared funding for public works projects, to allow particular citizens of Gotham to give back to their city."

James gestured to the seated guests to his left, the first of which was a rake-thin, sharp-chinned man dressed impeccably and with a warm smile as he stood and waved, slowly approaching the podium.
"So please, join me in a round of applause as I introduce a close personal friend, William. D. Sommers, who is as passionate about rebuilding our great city as I am!"

James stepped aside, shaking William's hand and leading the crowd in heavy applause as he continued to smile and wave. Reporters within the crowd practically licked their lips; Sommers was a known entity already, a heavy supporter of Mayor James' campaign during the election period, and his company - Hightowers LLC - was already in the public eye due to the recent changeover in leadership. Bill Sommers Sr. had been known to be ill for some time already, and he had finally stepped down from his position and handed the reins to William, his only son and heir to the Sommers empire and industrial fortune. William had started his era at Hightowers strong, introducing new policies and working conditions that had both elevated public opinion of the company and increased revenue for the private market. He was, right now, Gotham's golden child, and Mayor James was eager to milk that popularity for all its poll-improving worth.

William allowed the applause to die down before beginning his address, every eye rapturously fixed upon him.
"Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you so much to yourselves and my good friend Aubrey for having me here today. Please, let's have another round of applause for Aubrey, and all he's managed to accomplish in only a short twelve months!"
William lead the crowd in another scattering of applause, beaming at Mayor James, who smiled back and played the humble card, a well-practiced series of gestures and facial expressions designed to engineer good faith.

"It's true - I have been graced with this honourable opportunity to give back to the city that has done so much for me and my family. Without the good people of Gotham, Hightowers would still be the mere pipe-dream of my father and his father before him; this great city that has helped us so much deserves to share in that success. So Hightowers is donating generously to the Narrows Restoration project from our own profits - an even split with the taxpayer, straight down the middle. 50/50. So that we can, all of us, contribute to the improvement of the city that we share and love. I for one, can't wait to see Gotham usher in a new golden age for the city, and I can't wait to help every step of the way!"

The applause went up again, and cameras flashed and popped as Aubrey came to stood next to William, the two holding a strong handshake and a smiling pose toward the reporters. The Narrows Restoration project was well and truly funded, with minimal impact on the common citizens of Gotham. That Hightowers LLC had been awarded, through one shell company or another, every public and private contract for every aspect of the project wasn't mentioned, nor would it be, and neither was the fact that as a result, Hightowers' generous contribution went straight back into its own pocket, straight alongside the taxpayer-funded half.

William smiled, all teeth, eyes sparkling with something other than philanthropic pride. Aubrey smiled, thin lips, sweaty forehead, eyes squinting in the afternoon sun and hiding a nervous trepidation about who'd actually been elected mayor last year.
In Roman's Scrapbin → 2 yrs ago Forum: Character Sheets
#1.01: A Fine Day
Earth-93913003, Gotham City

"It's a fine day in Gotham City."

Oswald Cobblepot stood proud and as tall as his stout, pudgy frame could allow him, his back to the Antarctic Industries boardroom table. The mahogany slab propped up on black iron struts was the closest thing the otherwise starkly-white room got to warm: one wall was a blank white space, barren but for the swirls of paint failing to provide character; the opposite featured a painting similarly devoid of life, some great and terrible acrylic storm of whites and grays that supposedly depicted a vast, frigid tundra; the third wall - the one Oswald was facing now, as he supped whiskey far too expensive for its comparative quality from a glass clutched in his sweaty, stubby fingers - was an edge-to-edge, floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out across the polluted, smog-stained skyline of Gotham City.

Behind him, a cavalcade of portly white men sat around the table smiling and offering each other knowing, self-congratulatory nods and handshakes and dignified chuckles. To the side of the head of the table, offset to Oswald's position but carrying his own air of self-importance and subtle authority, stood the only in-shape man in the room, a thin gentleman with a tidy coif of hair and a pencil mustache. In his right hand he held a thin cigarillo, smoke trailing upwards from the tip, and in his left a tablet, from which he'd just delivered the news they were all patting themselves on the back about: the twelfth consecutive quarter of profit growth against the previous financial year. Warren White - the man holding the tablet, and Antarctic Industries' Chief Financial Officer - was hailed as an industry prodigy and a financial genius, and his tenure on Oswald's executive board certainly lent credence to his reputation. Antarctic was a monolith in Gotham's financial landscape - over the last three years, their already heavy industry presence had only ramped up to monopolistic levels, and the company subsequently now handled the majority of east-coast imports and exports.

"Yes, a fine day in Gotham indeed." Cobblepot continued, turning around to raise his glass to the board, who all offered back empty-handed raised arms. Oswald kept only his personal supply in the building, and his subordinates were not permitted to partake. "But a finer day in this very room. Antarctic Industries continues to flourish under my leadership. This company has soared to heights my father never dreamed of! Truly, Antarctic Industries is a titan - and there is still plenty of opportunity for further growth."

Around the table, board members delivered the general murmured buzz of agreement and congratulation, as was expected of them. They were, after all, mostly figureheads, kept on mainly for their ability to stroke Cobblepot's ego. Sure, a couple had actually delivered the so-called 'duties' of their so-called 'job roles', both for Antarctic and other companies before Antarctic - but since the passing of Elijah, Oswald's father, and Oswald's subsequent takeover and revamping of the organization, Antarctic had seen unparalleled growth that was, frankly, ambivalent to their input or lack thereof, and this had only spiked further with Warren White's entry to the company.

Of course, the unspoken catalyst of this massive growth was Oswald's empire as the singular drug kingpin of Gotham, ruling the city from its underbelly as the Penguin. Warren was instrumental as well, utilizing his financial acumen to artfully fold the illicit revenue stream into the company's legal (and public) profits, laundering their own dirty money through little more than carefully managed bank accounts and ledgers. Whether the rest of the board knew or cared was inconsequential; if they knew, they didn't speak of it, and if they cared, they definitely didn't speak of it.

"Cheers to industry, gentlemen." Oswald finished, sneering from beneath his crooked nose in the best approximation of a sincere smile he could manage. "And to another fine day in Gotham City."

- - -

"It's a fine day in Gotham City."

Gotham City Police Department Street Officer James 'Jimmy' Gordon raised his eyebrows in shock as a scrawny man in a ratty hoodie and stained cargo pants spat on his newly-polished shoes as he walked past, hustling away before Jimmy could even muster the energy to be angry, let alone pursue him; a few bystanders who'd seen the act chuckled, and a couple more accelerated their weary, dead-eyed shuffles, lest they be caught up in any incoming retribution. Jimmy looked at his foot, grimacing as the thick, phlegm-speckled wad of saliva slowly dripped down the toe of his shoe.

All of this occurred mere micro-seconds before his partner, Detective Harvey Bullock, reappeared from the bodega Jimmy was currently leaning against, and spouted the bizarre, impromptu statement. Harvey had one hand inside his jacket, squirreling away what Jimmy knew was a small brown envelope of cash, while the other was clutching a thick breakfast sandwich, bacon grease slowly oozing out the sides of the bread and down Harvey's fingers. Jimmy snatched away a paper napkin from Harvey's hand and bent over to wipe off his shoe.

"I don't know that that's ever been true in the history of this city." Jimmy said once he'd stood up, and the two of them crossed the street back to their police cruiser. Harvey was already sinking his yellowing teeth into the sandwich, and yolk and ketchup stained his scruffy, unkempt beard. The two men stood on opposite sides of the car, Jimmy waiting on Harvey to unlock the doors, Harvey leaning on the roof as he polished off the sandwich in three more gargantuan bites. With one last impressive swallow, he took another napkin and wiped his face down.
"See, that's your problem, Gordon. You still haven't fished out the bug that crawled up your ass and died."

Jimmy scoffed, shaking his head. His tidy appearance was almost a perfect mirror of Harvey's half-assed attempt to look presentable; the pressed GCPD uniform cut a fine figure down Jimmy's well-exercised body, with the uniform peaked cap sat neatly atop an orderly, practical haircut and his handsome face accessorized by a pair of stylish-yet-subtle glasses and a trimmed, well-groomed mustache perched over a strong, clean-shaven jawline. Harvey was a dark reflection - street clothes creased and stained from the days he'd been wearing it previous, a wild unshaven beard, and greasy hair that cascaded down his neck from beneath a beat-up and raggedy trilby. The two men could not look more unsuited to pairing if they'd actively tried. Harvey finally shoved the keys into the car door and unlocked the cruiser, and the two men slunk down into their seats almost in unison, the cruiser rocking from side to side as the aging chassis took on their weight.

"That 'bug' is a goddamn moral code, Bullock." Jimmy replied, his voice almost a low growl as he buckled his seatbelt. This time it was Harvey's turn to scoff, shaking his head as he stuck the keys in the ignition and turned, the cruiser's engine sputtering to life and a plume of soot erupting from the exhaust. "And I'll be cold in the ground before I throw that away like the rest of this damn city."
"The way you're going, Jim-bo, you might not have that long a wait ahead of you. A moral code is one thing, but where's your self-preservation instinct?"

At this, Jimmy did actually have to concede Harvey had a point. The engine rumbled as Bullock kicked it into gear and they rolled into a light cruise along Gotham's main avenues, Harvey picking corners seemingly at random; with Harvey's 'pick-ups' done for the day and no one specific incident to respond to, the pair had the morning to simply make sure they would be seen. In this town, police presence was a reminder to pay your dues and keep to your own business. It certainly wasn't so that the community could feel safe and secure.

"No one's got a shit to give about me, Bullock, before you start getting soft on me." Jimmy said, prompting a quick eye-roll from Harvey. "One measly cadet no one likes versus the entire force of the GCPD? I'm so insignificant I don't even count as small-fry."
Harvey nodded sagely, already tuning out from Gordon's self-pitying diatribe. Many hours in this cruiser had been spent discussing the dearth of ethics and principles within the police force and the city at large; Harvey had long consigned himself to the pointlessness of rallying against it, even before his assignment as Jimmy's partner. In a way, Jimmy reminded Harvey of his younger, more idealistic self. He wondered if Jimmy, in turn, saw in him his likely future self.

For his part, Jimmy simply took to staring out the window at the passing city, watching the drunks and addicts stumbling on the pavements, the domestic disputes spilling out of front doors into the streets, the purse-snatchers, extortioners, the over-worked, the living-out-of-their-cars. Every fresh tragedy another counted failure for Gotham as a city.
"After all," he said, his final musing for the morning before resigning to a familiar sullen silence that Harvey far preferred over high-minded moral rhetoric, "what can one man do against an entire city?"

- - -

"It's a fine day in Gotham City."

Mayor Aubrey James, a toad-like, sweaty man, stood at the podium in front of city hall and paused for dramatic effect. In front of him a sea of reporters and members of public office pointed cameras and microphones and held pencils carefully against paper; he took a moment to adjust his too-tight tie against the flabby flesh of his neck that spilled from his collar, and drew a breath to continue.

"Yes, a fine day in Gotham City indeed. When the good people of Gotham sensibly voted myself as their elected official to lead this city into new, more prosperous times, I was sworn in with the promise of delivering real, tangible change - no wishy-washy, vague policies that could be hand-waved and delayed." He paused again, clammy hands slipping slightly where they gripped the edges of the podium. He withdrew a monogrammed handkerchief from his jacket pocket and carefully dabbed his forehead. "I promised to bring stability to the economy and new, affordable housing to the people - and look at our great city today. Home-grown, grassroots, Gotham-led companies aren't just stable but thriving, bringing jobs and revenue to the city at levels Gotham has never seen before. The Narrows Restoration Project is well-underway, with a planned 10,000 new homes over the next two years, all with affordable, long-term leases attached."

There was scattered-but-steady applause across the crowd, and Mayor James paused again to allow those scribbling feverishly to catch-up. It had been a strong first year of his term, at least by Gotham Mayor standards, and his office knew that if he delivered in the Narrows, he was a shoo-in for re-election. Even in a city as execrable as Gotham, the Narrows were especially heinous, a buzzing hive of the worst the city and its population had to offer.

"Of course, our work in the Narrows wouldn't be possible without the proper funding, and my platform of unburdening the taxpayer remains steadfast! Gotham's tax-paying citizens already pay for our fine public services, and we cannot expect to maintain the quality of these services if we expect the common men and women of Gotham to fund the Narrows Restoration project as well. To this end, my office has spear-headed a brand new platform of shared funding for public works projects, to allow particular citizens of Gotham to give back to their city."

James gestured to the seated guests to his left, the first of which was a rake-thin, sharp-chinned man dressed impeccably and with a warm smile as he stood and waved, slowly approaching the podium.
"So please, join me in a round of applause as I introduce a close personal friend, William. D. Sommers, who is as passionate about rebuilding our great city as I am!"

James stepped aside, shaking William's hand and leading the crowd in heavy applause as he continued to smile and wave. Reporters within the crowd practically licked their lips; Sommers was a known entity already, a heavy supporter of Mayor James' campaign during the election period, and his company - Hightowers LLC - was already in the public eye due to the recent changeover in leadership. Bill Sommers Sr. had been known to be ill for some time already, and he had finally stepped down from his position and handed the reins to William, his only son and heir to the Sommers empire and industrial fortune. William had started his era at Hightowers strong, introducing new policies and working conditions that had both elevated public opinion of the company and increased revenue for the private market. He was, right now, Gotham's golden child, and Mayor James was eager to milk that popularity for all its poll-improving worth.

William allowed the applause to die down before beginning his address, every eye rapturously fixed upon him.
"Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you so much to yourselves and my good friend Aubrey for having me here today. Please, let's have another round of applause for Aubrey, and all he's managed to accomplish in only a short twelve months!"
William lead the crowd in another scattering of applause, beaming at Mayor James, who smiled back and played the humble card, a well-practiced series of gestures and facial expressions designed to engineer good faith.

"It's true - I have been graced with this honourable opportunity to give back to the city that has done so much for me and my family. Without the good people of Gotham, Hightowers would still be the mere pipe-dream of my father and his father before him; this great city that has helped us so much deserves to share in that success. So Hightowers is donating generously to the Narrows Restoration project from our own profits - an even split with the taxpayer, straight down the middle. 50/50. So that we can, all of us, contribute to the improvement of the city that we share and love. I for one, can't wait to see Gotham usher in a new golden age for the city, and I can't wait to help every step of the way!"

The applause went up again, and cameras flashed and popped as Aubrey came to stood next to William, the two holding a strong handshake and a smiling pose toward the reporters. The Narrows Restoration project was well and truly funded, with minimal impact on the common citizens of Gotham. That Hightowers LLC had been awarded, through one shell company or another, every public and private contract for every aspect of the project wasn't mentioned, nor would it be, and neither was the fact that as a result, Hightowers' generous contribution went straight back into its own pocket, straight alongside the taxpayer-funded half.

William smiled, all teeth, eyes sparkling with something other than philanthropic pride. Aubrey smiled, thin lips, sweaty forehead, eyes squinting in the afternoon sun and hiding a nervous trepidation about who'd actually been elected mayor last year.
In Absolute Comics Presents - What If? [A DC & Marvel One Universe RP] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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
_________________________________________________________
The Batman
_________________________________________________________
Vigilante | Independent
_________________________________________________________
Earth-93913003 | Open (with consultation)

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
_________________________________________________________
W H A T I F...?
W H A T I F...?
________________________________________________________________________________________
What If... the Waynes never came to power in Gotham?

Gotham's corruption, unstymied as the Wayne family's generations of community support and philanthropy now never came to pass, runs rampant through the infrastructure of the city and taints every facet of its nervous system. With no Waynes, other powerful families were allowed to rise in their stead, plugging the wealth gap; the Cobblepots, the Arkhams, the Sionis', the Sommers. With such powerful lineage in place without even a shred of the conscience the Waynes had, there was never a need for the Falcone and Maroni mafias, and no power vacuum for the mob to seize. Gotham's ignoble royalty were crime families, baking corruption and villainy into the very foundations of the city.

Eventually, even with no Bruce Wayne, something had to push back.

Roaring from seemingly the nine hells themselves comes The Batman, a force of nature visited upon the city itself. No Wayne fortune, no vengeful prince of Gotham, no loyal butler or tech industry magnate backing - simply one man, one intrinsically unknowable man, forged out of societal imbalance, righteous fury, and ceaseless brutality. With nothing more than tenacity, resourcefulness, and ferocity by his side, he strikes back at the city that has been content to exploit the common man for every last inch of their soul since its conception, and push Gotham City, kicking and screaming and thrashing all the way, into a better future for all, toppling every Fortune 500 giant along the way.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
________________________________________________________________________________________
A true Year Zero for The Batman, he appears in Gotham apparently overnight and begins a brutal campaign against the criminal elements of the city; but while at first the police appear complacent to let him have his fun doing their 'jobs' for them, heads soon turn when it becomes apparent this new vigilante is waging a war on white-collar crime just as fierce as that on violence and gang-banging. Making quick enemies of powerful people, The Batman becomes GCPD's number one priority, and finds himself contending with the 'boys in blue' and the ruling corporations of Gotham as just more gangs that need putting down.

Naturally, as The Batman wages his war, power balances will shift, and the face of Gotham City will change forever.
In Absolute Comics Presents - What If? [A DC & Marvel One Universe RP] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

As my first job as Co-GM I am stepping down as Co-GM.


A hard choice to make but the right thing to do under the circumstances.
In Absolute Comics Presents - What If? [A DC & Marvel One Universe RP] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
<Snipped quote by Hound55>

So I totally read that as "Whore Man" and I do not regret it


So many sheets these days are blatant self-inserts.
In Roman's Scrapbin → 2 yrs ago Forum: Character Sheets
1. Establish setting
2. Establish Batman
3. Establish early plot threads (Cobblepot, Sionis) + setup late plots (Hightowers LLC)
4. Get Batman into early plots
5. Early plots react to Batman's entry
6. Batman gets more into early plots, early plots start panicking
7. Batman gets MORE into early plots, late plots start noticing and considering
8. Early plots start resolving into part 2's (Sionis + White)
9. Close out early plots
10. Get Batman into late plots
11. Late plots react
12. etc
In Absolute Comics Presents - What If? [A DC & Marvel One Universe RP] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Not to make the first two applications of the game both be Batman sheets, but,

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
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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
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The Batman
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Vigilante | Independent
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Earth-93913003 | Open (with consultation)

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
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P O S T C A T A L O G
P O S T C A T A L O G
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W H A T I F...?
W H A T I F...?
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What If... the Waynes never came to power in Gotham?

Gotham's corruption, unstymied as the Wayne family's generations of community support and philanthropy now never came to pass, runs rampant through the infrastructure of the city and taints every facet of its nervous system. With no Waynes, other powerful families were allowed to rise in their stead, plugging the wealth gap; the Cobblepots, the Arkhams, the Sionis', the Sommers. With such powerful lineage in place without even a shred of the conscience the Waynes had, there was never a need for the Falcone and Maroni mafias, and no power vacuum for the mob to seize. Gotham's ignoble royalty were crime families, baking corruption and villainy into the very foundations of the city.

Eventually, even with no Bruce Wayne, something had to push back.

Roaring from seemingly the nine hells themselves comes The Batman, a force of nature visited upon the city itself. No Wayne fortune, no vengeful prince of Gotham, no loyal butler or tech industry magnate backing - simply one man, one intrinsically unknowable man, forged out of societal imbalance, righteous fury, and ceaseless brutality. With nothing more than tenacity, resourcefulness, and ferocity by his side, he strikes back at the city that has been content to exploit the common man for every last inch of their soul since its conception, and push Gotham City, kicking and screaming and thrashing all the way, into a better future for all, toppling every Fortune 500 giant along the way.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
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A true Year Zero for The Batman, he appears in Gotham apparently overnight and begins a brutal campaign against the criminal elements of the city; but while at first the police appear complacent to let him have his fun doing their 'jobs' for them, heads soon turn when it becomes apparent this new vigilante is waging a war on white-collar crime just as fierce as that on violence and gang-banging. Making quick enemies of powerful people, The Batman becomes GCPD's number one priority, and finds himself contending with the 'boys in blue' and the ruling corporations of Gotham as just more gangs that need putting down.

Naturally, as The Batman wages his war, power balances will shift, and the face of Gotham City will change forever.
In Roman's Scrapbin → 2 yrs ago Forum: Character Sheets
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
_________________________________________________________
The Batman
_________________________________________________________
Vigilante | Independent
_________________________________________________________
Earth-93913003 | Open (with consultation)

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
_________________________________________________________
W H A T I F...?
W H A T I F...?
________________________________________________________________________________________
What If... the Waynes never came to power in Gotham?

Gotham's corruption, unstymied by the Wayne family's generations of community support and philanthropy, runs rampant through the infrastructure of the city and taints every facet of its nervous system. With no Waynes, other powerful families were allowed to rise in their stead, plugging the wealth gap; the Cobblepots, the Arkhams, the Sionis', the Sommers. With such powerful lineage in place without even a shred of the conscience the Waynes had, there was never a need for the Falcone and Maroni mafias, and no power vacuum for the mob to seize. Gotham's ignoble royalty were crime families, baking corruption and villainy into the very foundations of the city.

Eventually, even with no Bruce Wayne, something had to push back.

Roaring from seemingly the nine hells themselves comes The Batman, a force of nature visited upon the city itself. No Wayne fortune backing, no vengeful prince of Gotham, no loyal butler or tech industry magnate backing - simply one man, one intrinsically unknowable man, forged out of societal imbalance, righteous fury, and ceaseless brutality. With nothing more than tenacity, resourcefulness, and ferocity by his side, he strikes back at the city that has been content to exploit the common man for every last inch of their soul since its conception, and push Gotham City, kicking and screaming and thrashing all the way, into a better future for all, toppling every Fortune 500 giant along the way.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
________________________________________________________________________________________
A true Year Zero for The Batman, he appears in Gotham apparently overnight and begins a brutal campaign against the criminal elements of the city; but while at first the police appear complacent to let him have his fun doing their 'jobs' for them, heads soon turn when it becomes apparent this new vigilante is waging a war on white-collar crime just as fierce as that on violence and gang-banging. Making quick enemies of powerful people, The Batman becomes GCPD's number one priority, and finds himself contending with the 'boys in blue' and the ruling corporations of Gotham as just more gangs that need putting down.

Naturally, as The Batman wages his war, power balances will shift, and the face of Gotham City will change forever.
In Roman's Scrapbin → 2 yrs ago Forum: Character Sheets




In Roman's Scrapbin → 2 yrs ago Forum: Character Sheets
James 'Jimmy' Gordon is a young and naive beat cop who joined the force out of a genuine desire to do good and help his community, but quickly found the internal corruption to be beyond the scope of his comprehension. Perhaps the only honest cop on the force, he has yet to be fired or killed simply because he's so insignificant and isolated in his ethos that he poses no threat to the status quo whatsoever.

Detective Harvey Bullock is an older GCPD member and Jimmy's partner/babysitter. He's been around a while and is subsequently jaded and cynical; a general asshole and as bought-and-paid-for as anyone else on the force, but not actively malevolent compared to some of his colleagues.

Detective Renee Montoya is a skilled detective often denied the ability to utilise her talent. She's happy to take the money when it's offered, but remains frustrated with the GCPD - though this is simply out of boredom and sheer stifled ambition.

Senior Detective Crispus Allen is Renee's partner and a 'company man' through-and-through. He likes Renee and sees potential in her, but wishes she'd wise up to how to actually make waves and climb the ranks within the force.

Coroner Dr. Leslie Thompkins is the GCPD's resident pathologist and coroner, who's bought off on certain cases but otherwise considered relatively unimportant, as her reports are easily amended after-the-fact to suit any story being spun. She's weary and displeased by the state of the force and the city at large, but has been around long enough to know that accepting payments and allowing her reports to be edited keeps her both in her career and, more importantly, alive.

Police Commissioner Gillian Loeb is a corrupt, loathsome individual, seeing his position as nothing more than a vehicle to get paid and do whatever he wants with little to no consequence. Quick to toe the line and promote excessive force against those who don't, he is the beating heart of everything wrong with GCPD - it starts at the top and infects its way down.

Gotham Mayor, Aubrey James is a stooge for the major corps that truly run Gotham. He ran on a platform of housing rejuvenation, specifically a refurbishment of the Narrows into brand-new affordable homes, but in truth it would have mattered little what he ran on - the votes were in place long before election day, and James was the perfect tool for Gotham's oligarchs to wield.

Editor-in-Chief, Gotham Gazette, Jack Ryder is semi-legendary within Gotham City for his tenacity and sheer journalistic talent, but one doesn't get as far in news media as he has without knowing exactly how far you can push it and no further. He likes to foster the same kind of daring among his reporters but is well-aware that he and his paper are only allowed to operate as far as the elite class let him - and while he has an amount of leniency in rocking the boat, it's a fine line to capsizing.

Field Reporter, Gotham Gazette, Victoria 'Vicki' Vale is one of the Gazette's best and least-published reporters. Kept on by Jack out of journalistic integrity, Vicki's articles nonetheless are often vetoed in the edit room lest they draw ire from those who could quite easily shut the entire organisation down. This far from deters Ms. Vale however, who simply goes at exposing the next scandal or uncovering the next worker exploitation with all the more passion and vigour.

CEO, Antarctic Industries, Oswald Cobblepot is the leading imports, exports, and shipping magnate in Gotham, with his stubby fingerprints gracing nearly every single cargo crate that comes in at, or leaves from, Gotham Harbour. Naturally myriad rumours circulate about what precisely Cobblepot is importing and exporting on any given day, but no official accusations have been (or will be) made, and no investigations have taken place (nor will they).

CFO, Antarctic Industries, Warren White is Cobblepot's right-hand man and guardian of Antarctic Industries' bottom line. A man with few scruples, he's a record-setter for year-on-year revenue growth, hailed as a financial genius and a pioneer of pushing profit margins to new heights; few, if any, have actually dared to ask him how he manages it, however.

CEO, Sionis Industrial & Janus Cosmetics, Roman Sionis is a young playboy who's inherited his father's and mother's companies respectively after a tragic accident that took both their lives, leaving him a fortune and very little clue what to do with it. Currently seeming to mostly be indulging his every whim - surely to assuage himself of the mountainous grief bore upon his shoulders - his board of directors are, for now, content to keep the company business-as-usual in the meantime, although whispers of doubt about his leadership are already rippling through both organisations.

Founder and Lead Jeweller, Félin-Bijou, Selina Kyle is perhaps the only remaining self-made millionaire in Gotham City, a wildly-talented designer and entrepeneur who found success in an independent line of high-end jewellery that caught the eye of a Gotham baroness that propelled her pop-up shop to an aristocratic boutique. While happy with her massive success, Selina is interminably bored with the company she is forced to keep, and finds herself pining for excitement.

CEO, Hightowers LLC, William D. Sommers is the new head of Hightowers LLC, an industry-spanning company with a finger in nearly every pie, from construction to shipping to R&D to real estate. William has stepped in after his father, Bill Sommers Sr., was advised to retire by his medical team due to his snowballing physical decline. William is an ambitious man, and with the Sommers name having a vast legacy in Gotham, he seems set to elevate Hightowers LLC and his family name to new heights.

COO, Hightowers LLC, Victor Zsasz is the single change in the board of directors William has made since the start of his tenure leading Hightowers LLC. Half COO, half William's personal aide, he is a cunning, ruthless man with a guileful business acumen and a steadfast determination to do what's necessary for success.
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