Supermaxx

Superboy's Shitty Characters

Ultimate One Universe: Year One Application

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The Unflinching Traitor to Mankind...Blue Beetle!

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_{"Where the hell are we?! Why am I falling?!"
"We are approximately eighteen thousand feet above sea level."
"Ah, ese puta madre! WHY?"
"No time. I'd suggest you brace for impact."}

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Full Name

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Jaime Reyes

Alias

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The Blue Beetle

Powers/Abilities

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Synaptic Symbiosis Interface: The Scarab Parasite has embedded itself within the genetic code of the human being known as Jaime Reyes. It's fused together with his internal structure seamlessly, altering his physiology on a molecular level to make Jaime a more perfect host body for the Scarab unit. These changes make Reyes far more robust, even in his 'ordinary' form, and his energy consumption has been made two hundred times more efficient for added endurance at less of a cost. Most importantly, however, it is what allows the Scarab to communicate with Jaime telepathically.

Technological and Biological Assimilation: There is no singular race in the entire universe that can be described as perfect. Each has flaws- gaps in it's knowledge that can be exploited. The Scarab was designed to circumvent this flaw. It's body is the perfect blend of technology and biology, forged with the express purpose of assimilating and absorbing any and all tech it encounters deemed to be useful in the pursuit of perfection. Thus far, the Scarab has encountered nothing it cannot absorb within itself and make use of. Assimilated parts are typically 'upgraded' using other bits of technology already installed in the Scarab.

Absorbed Tech/Powers

Standard Scarab Technology Array, MK VI
Jaime Reyes - Human Host
Jaime's Smartphone
Shaving Razor
Toaster Oven
Stapler
Handcuffs
Glock 17

Origin

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In a time when Pharaohs ruled and magic ran rampant through the earth, a great light appeared in the sky, followed by the thunderclap of it breaking through the atmosphere. An object from the sky, small enough to be held in the palm of the hand, would change the course of human history forever. But it wouldn't be the day it landed, for whoever had directed the Scarab here hadn't accounted for mankind's...superstitions. A tribe had seen it fall, and chased the fire in the sky to it's landing point. After much argument, it was decided that they had best hide it away- the gods would not want mere men meddling with their herald. The Scarab was placed within a tomb, deep in the catacombs of a mountain fortress for the dead. And there it would remain for thousands of years, forgotten.

It wasn't until 1968 when Dan Garrett, a young archaeologist on a dig in Bialya's famed tombs, that the Scarab was uncovered once more. Dan knew the object was different the moment he lay eyes on it. Fearing that such a momentous discovery would be stolen from him by his peers, Garrett hid the Scarab away, smuggling it back to his college campus in the United States. Garrett studied it for decades, never letting another soul know of it's existence. He obsessed over it's origin, chasing after extraterrestrial conspiracy theories in search of answers until the day he died. No one knows when Dan truly passed; he was out traveling the world on his unending quest one day when he simply...vanished. His estate chose to donate most of his belongings- including, unfortunately, the Scarab- to the Smithsonian Museum.

There the Scarab would remain on display until exactly a week ago. A small group of students all the way from El Paso, Texas had managed to scrounge up enough money to afford a visit to the world famous museum. Sixteen year old Jaime Reyes was among them, dragged along by his history-obsessed best (and only) friends, Paco and Brenda. He'd rather be nearly anywhere else, if he were honest; he finally got the chance to travel, but they wanted to go to a museum? Jaime, bored to tears by the tour guide, decided to slip off and explore on his own. That was when he ended up in the Bialya section: and that was when his life was ruined. The Scarab decided to awaken for the first time in three thousand years, bursting forth from it's exhibit and forcing itself down Jaime's throat.

Reyes blacked out. He didn't wake up again for quite some time.

And when he did, he found himself sitting across from an agent of SHIELD.

What makes this character 'Ultimate?'

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When I set out to to create the Ultimate version of Blue Beetle, I had two goals in mind: Reworking the Reach to be more than another alien race that wants to conquer earth, and emphasizing how absolutely terrible it would be to be Jaime Reyes. He was your everyday, ordinary High School kid before one day an alien parasite forced itself onto his body and tried to make him a cybernetic murder machine that betrays the entire human race. That's terrifying! And I feel as if most versions of the character don't really explore just how frightening a situation this would be. So, I plan to rectify that.

Supporting Cast

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Paco Tejas: Jaime and Paco have stuck together through thick and thin. They met all the way back in Kindergarten, and haven't spent more than a week apart from one another since. Paco's one of many middle children in a family of eight. He loves his family to death, but by God if he can't stand how crowded his tiny house is.

Brenda Del Vecchio: The coolest person willing to associate with Jaime, Brenda's been part of the gang since seventh grade. Both her best friends were made aware of her...less than ideal home life a long time ago, and they've done their best to support her through her struggles.

Ted Kord: Ted Kord is the owner and CEO of Kord Industries. Based out of Metropolis, the tech company is best known for it's advances in nanotechnology- it's one of a handful that's managed to avoid being devoured in the ever-growing titan that is lexCorp. Ted has always fashioned himself as a self made man, and he'll be damned if he sells his soul to anyone.

The Brotherhood of Evil: Yet to be encountered.

La Dama: A faceless crimelord and the queen of Texas's underground. Real name unknown. Influences stretch all the way down to various Cartels in Latin and South America.

Jasper Sitwell: The agent assigned to interrogate Jaime after the Smithsonian Incident. Special Agent In Charge of the Blue Beetle Operation.

Sample Post

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Sample Post

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The Blue Beetle stars in...The Runaway: Issue #1

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Unknown

Molasses dripped from his bones as Jaime Reyes found himself confronted by his own awakening. It was like a slow-mo punch to the lip- Jaime could feel his face crumpling under the knuckles, but everything was moving so slowly that he felt no inclination to stop it.

His eyes flickered open lazily, like it was a particularly quiet summer Sunday. Every inch of his body had a dull, obnoxious ache lingering in it. Reyes didn't know why. Had he, for God knows what reason, decided to join the Football team last night? Wandered his way into El Paso High's quarterback position and found himself on the business end of a three hundred pound seventeen year old?

Jaime went to rub the sleepiness from his eyes, yet found his hands uncooperative.

"Huh?" The boy murmured, tugging at them again. Something caught on both wrists. Something cold and unforgiving against his weak pulls.

That was when he finally noticed where he was. He was sitting in front of a stainless steel table in room caked in shadow. Judging by the coolness under his tush, Reyes could guess the chair was of a similar make to the table.

He noticed, too, that he was not alone.

"Jaime Reyes. Sixteen. Resident of El Paso, visiting Washington, D.C for...recreational purposes."

Seated on the opposite side of the table was a man that could be described as part high school physics teacher and part serial murderer. Straw-colored hair had been slicked back with thick slabs of hair gel, and a pair of even thicker-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his hawkish nose. What caught Jaime's eye, however, was the symbol on his shoulder.

The eagle of SHIELD.

It hit him like a semi-truck barreling down the highway. The haze he'd woken up with was lifting. Yesterday...He hadn't played Football yesterday. No, Jaime could remember there being way, way too much blood for that. "Ohhh no, no...ahh shit! Fuck! Hostia-"

"Son," The agent's voice rose above Jaime's, the laugh lines on his face loosening at the sight of the kid's panic. "I need you to stay calm for me, alright? I know you've..." There was a pause, his expression shifting as he searched for the proper word. There wasn't a word for something like this. Not one that would help.

"You've been through a lot, son, but I'm here to help you. My name is Jasper. Jasper Sitwell. I'm an agent of SHIELD. You know what SHIELD is, right?"

Reyes snapped his eyes shut, letting the darkness choke out the light. His nose flared and air shot into his nostrils. He had to remember more. All he had were bits and pieces, but try as he might it felt like a fog had fallen over his mind. Like his thoughts were being hidden from him. It made his chest tighten. "Why can't...why can't I remember?"

With a sigh, Sitwell brought a manila folder into view. He must've had it open in his lap. "Well, I can walk you through what happened. You're not going to like it, but it's better we pull the band-aid off now. No use in trying to hide it."

He flipped the file open, revealing the printed report tucked away inside. It was titled 'Incident Report #4217 - Smithsonian.'

Jasper began to read in a slow, deliberate drawl. His voice was clinical and detached. "At approximately twelve thirty in the afternoon, Jaime Reyes entered the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. At one forty five he entered the Bialya exhibit, where Special Interest Object number four-two-one-seven was being displayed. The object activated when Jaime entered within approximately eight meters..."

As the words flowed from the man's baritone cords, Jaime let himself go back there. He allowed his mind to slip back into memories locked away. He was standing in the museum, right behind Brenda and Paco. They were nerding out over some old piece of armor, talking about Caesar salads or something. Reyes could feel himself growing anxious and bored when he finally decided to tell them he was 'going to the bathroom.' His excuse for running off to find something better to do.

He...remember the banner over the Bialya exhibit catching his eye. He had heard about Bialya being a war torn hellhole in Civics class. It sounded kinda entertaining, at least. That brought Reyes coasting inside, not chasing anything in particular.

Then he saw it. Jaime could remember what it looked like as if he were standing right in front of it at that moment. A piece of art, made of some...odd metal that had lost it's sheen a long time ago. It was shaped like some kind of bug. The long, almost knife-like legs gave Reyes the creeps. He could've sworn he remembered seeing those legs twitching.

"Dios mío..." The boy rasped, his voice barely above a frozen whisper. The room had grown colder. He swore he felt a chill rushing along his bare arms, eliciting goosebumps to rise along his tan flesh.

"...Four-two-one-seven entered a liquid state and broke the glass around it's display. It crossed the ground, passing by a number of other people as it made it's way directly toward Reyes. The Object crawled up the side of his leg and around his body, making it's way up until it reached the mouth. It entered into Reyes's body..."

Jaime could feel it, then. He could feel something cold tingling at the back of his throat. It was wet and sticky, like milk that'd been left out on the counter too long. That thing...it was too fast for Jaime. It moved up under his clothes, making a sound like nails in a blender played over a little girl's scream. Jaime could feel it moving. he could feel it inside of him.

Reyes wrapped his fingers around the handcuffs that kept him tied to the table. He pulled at them fiercely, air coming into his lungs in short, sharp bursts. Why was he locked up? Wasn't he the victim here? Why wasn't he in the hospital after that thing attacked him?

Agent Sitwell only glanced up at the rapidly unfurling teenager for a second. He had to continue reading: this was the part that really mattered, after all. "Once inside, the Object appeared to fuse with the subject. The liquid state metal that had entered his body came back out of his pores, encasing Reyes's body. Reyes then began to scream in an unidentified language, and..."

Jaime kicked the table hard enough for it to bounce in place. He kicked it again, and again, and again. A rumbling, anguished scream turned his throat raw as the fog finally lifted and the full extent of his actions was revealed. "STOP!" Reyes pleaded, tears stinging in the corners of his eyes. He shook his head with vicious conviction, fighting against his restraints like a man possessed. "Please- shut...shut up! Shut the fuck up! PLEASE."

He wanted it to stop. It needed to stop. He couldn't...this didn't happen. He couldn't have done this.

"Reyes's arms transformed into unidentified energy weapons of potentially extraterrestrial origin, likely as a result of his fusion with four-two-one-seven. Reyes opened fire into the crowd of panicked, fleeing people-"

Reyes threw his body backward. The chair he was in tipped, letting him tumble backward. The table was dragged along with Jaime during the fall with a screech of it's legs against the floor. He wasn't screaming anymore. His throat was too raw, and he could no longer find his voice. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. All he could see was the blood. The blood and the people trying to run away from him.

Sitwell stopped. He set the file down on the table with an utter, complete calm. Rising up from his own seat, the gangling agent took a step around the table and toward Jaime. "I know. I know." Jasper tried to comfort him, his voice low and fatherly as he bent down toward the crying boy. "I'm sorry-"

A fist coated in black and blue armor grabbed Jasper by the collar. With strength unknown to his arms, Reyes felt himself toss Sitwell across the interrogation room. The agent let out a cry as his back slammed against the harsh steel and he went tumbling down to the ground. The door was thrown open, several men in identical uniforms rushing inside with pistols drawn.

"I- I didn't mean to-" Jaime rasped, finding his voice overtaken by another, far stronger one.

'Jaime Reyes, I am Khaji Da. You are in mortal danger- let me help you.'

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

Lurking? Me? Never.

Just reading what you've all been up to. Honestly can't believe I haven't seen this game 'round before; you guys are killing it with these posts.

Gobonauts: Invisible Invasion

Thanks for your interest, guys. I'll start working on the OOC. Should be up later today.

Gobonauts: Invisible Invasion

@Zza They'll be in severe danger, but you'll have to see whether or not that's lethal. Thanks for your interest!

The Redwatch

@Tangletail Nothing like a good ol' fashion bard-off.

Gobonauts: Invisible Invasion

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Gobonauts: Invisible Invasion

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"W-what do you mean you don't see them?! They're RIGHT in front of you, mom!"

Young denizen of Bison, Ohio moments before his demise

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Modern Fantasy - Occult Fiction - Mystery/Thriller

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Summer break has dawned for the you and the other kids of sleepy little Bison, Ohio. It brings with it freedom from the crushing anxiety of school, endless relaxation in the town's (only) public pool, half-off sodas at the gas station and...

Monsters.

Unseen things, lurking just in the corner of your vision. You'd swear you saw something, yet when you turned to look, nothing was truly amiss. But you knew.

You knew something was there.

The adults don't see it. Your parents look at you like you're out of your mind. So you tried to shake it off- tried to keep it to yourself.

It kept happening. In fact, the sightings were getting worse and worse. You caught sight of more than just shapes. Full limbs, sickly green skin, and those horrific, beady eyes...

You're going crazy. Hallucinating. There was no other explanation for it, right? That was what you thought, until you finally let it slip to a friend-

And they told you they were seeing the same things as you.

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The Setting

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Welcome to Gobonauts, home of all things skin-crawlingly delightful. Though that introduction was short, and information sparse, this is entirely deliberate. For you see, Gobonauts: Invisible Invasion is a story about discovery. Leave everything you thought you knew about the world at the door, for everything passed this point will defy all of that.

You are entering the realm of the strange, with nothing to guide you along but your own wits and intuitions. Your imagination is the key to unlocking the secrets of Bison, and it is the codex from which you will find the answers to all of your questions.

You- or your character, if you prefer- are a resident of this tiny, sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere. With less than two thousand residents calling it home, it's no wonder that the kids and teenagers might get a little restless.

There's not much to do, save what you come up with yourself. Whether that's by joining a hundred other kids blowing out speakers and drinking precarious amounts of cheap beer in the Old Woods, or by skulking off to the public library to stuff your face in an original, 1948 Farmer's Almanac, everyone finds a way to survive the blistering heat and unmitigated boredom of small town life.

Things only started getting strange two or three days ago. It was different for everyone. Perhaps you were alone, wasting away in your backyard when you saw it. Or maybe you and a group of friends were just going down to the bowling alley when it first appeared. There were a hundred different encounters all in the same day, yet one thing remained the same throughout each:

They had no idea what they'd seen, and there was not a single person over seventeen present when it happened.

All over town, from the far reaches of the woodland to smack dab in Downtown, and even in the fields outside city limits, 'encounters' took place. No one has seen one full on quite yet. Whatever these things are, they're skulking, almost...deliberately.

You have a sneaking suspicion that they won't stay hidden for long.

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OOC Information

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Listen. I know that we're all busy people here, and that we've all got a lot to do and that this whole website's just a hobby. I fully understand when people drop out, or when they can't make time to post for whatever reason. I do all that same stuff too. However.

I've found that a lot of feet dragging and time wasting kills RPs, to put it plainly. So I'll be experimenting with a little more stringent a posting schedule than I tend to see kicked around. I'd like everyone to make time for at the very least a single post per week. It doesn't have to be long. If you shoot for two paragraphs and show me that you're putting in an effort, than that's more than enough. But I would very much like to see an RP that doesn't stutter out and die because of inactivity.

On top of that, I'd ask that your posts contain high school level spelling, grammar and structure. I don't need (or even necessarily want) essays, but there needs to be enough in your posts for other people to work off of. Like I said, two paragraphs or more is just fine.

Finally, I would ask that, above all else, you're respectful to everyone involved. It shouldn't have to be said that this is a game. It's meant to be fun! But being an asshat isn't fun; especially for everyone else. If your behavior is found to be grossly rude, then I apologize, but I don't want you here.

If you're committed to the above clauses, welcome aboard! I'm looking for as many recruits for the cause as I can get. The more the merrier. If you have any questions, fill free to ask, though I'm going to try and shy away from revealing too much about the fantasy aspects of the story. Hopefully you'll be diving in with roughly the same amount of information as your characters.

Superboy's Shitty Characters

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Gobonauts: Invisible Invasion

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"W-what do you mean you don't see them?! They're RIGHT in front of you, mom!"

Young denizen of Bison, Ohio moments before his demise

---

Modern Fantasy - Occult Fiction - Mystery/Thriller

---

Summer break has dawned for the you and the other kids of sleepy little Bison, Ohio. It brings with it freedom from the crushing anxiety of school, endless relaxation in the town's (only) public pool, half-off sodas at the gas station and...

Monsters.

Unseen things, lurking just in the corner of your vision. You'd swear you saw something, yet when you turned to look, nothing was truly amiss. But you knew.

You knew something was there.

The adults don't see it. Your parents look at you like you're out of your mind. So you tried to shake it off- tried to keep it to yourself.

It kept happening. In fact, the sightings were getting worse and worse. You caught sight of more than just shapes. Full limbs, sickly green skin, and those horrific, beady eyes...

You're going crazy. Hallucinating. There was no other explanation for it, right? That was what you thought, until you finally let it slip to a friend-

And they told you they were seeing the same things as you.

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The Setting

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Introduction

Welcome to Gobonauts, home of all things skin-crawlingly delightful. Though that introduction was short, and information sparse, this is entirely deliberate. For you see, Gobonauts: Invisible Invasion is a story about discovery. Leave everything you thought you knew about the world at the door, for everything passed this point will defy all of that.

You are entering the realm of the strange, with nothing to guide you along but your own wits and intuitions. Your imagination is the key to unlocking the secrets of Bison, and it is the codex from which you will find the answers to all of your questions.

You- or your character, if you prefer- are a resident of this tiny, sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere. With less than two thousand residents calling it home, it's no wonder that the kids and teenagers might get a little restless.

There's not much to do, save what you come up with yourself. Whether that's by joining a hundred other kids blowing out speakers and drinking precarious amounts of cheap beer in the Old Woods, or by skulking off to the public library to stuff your face in an original, 1948 Farmer's Almanac, everyone finds a way to survive the blistering heat and unmitigated boredom of small town life.

Things only started getting strange two or three days ago. It was different for everyone. Perhaps you were alone, wasting away in your backyard when you saw it. Or maybe you and a group of friends were just going down to the bowling alley when it first appeared. There were a hundred different encounters all in the same day, yet one thing remained the same throughout each:

They had no idea what they'd seen, and there was not a single person over seventeen present when it happened.

All over town, from the far reaches of the woodland to smack dab in Downtown, and even in the fields outside city limits, 'encounters' took place. No one has seen one full on quite yet. Whatever these things are, they're skulking, almost...deliberately.

You have a sneaking suspicion that they won't stay hidden for long.

Bison, Ohio Tour Guide

Presented by the Sleeping Sentry Gazette,

Welcome to Bison, wayward traveler! Though we know you'd never intentionally stop in our little hamlet, we're more than happy to have you here! We're small yet homey, and we have all the essentials for your small town living needs. Listed below are our wonderful town's best attractions!

Bison Public Library: Founded nearly eighty years ago in 1939, the library is a two story brick building that's only been restored a record of three times! Though the paint's peeling in a few places, you won't find a greater source of information about Bison anywhere else- not even the internet! We boast a collection of over six THOUSAND books, most of which were donated by our ever-generous citizens. Several of Bison's clubs meet in the library, and you can find that schedule posted up on the community board!

Bison Town Hall: Our town hall is truly something to behold. The Sleeping Sentry Gazette awarded it the title of 'Fanciest Building In Town' in 1986, and it's still going strong! Boasting an entrance of gargantuan marble pillars and a door so heavy it has a two-man door-opening team, the town hall is the premier spot for prom pictures. It hosts Bison's mayoral and town council elections, as well as tri-weekly meetings to discuss the state of the community in it's fabulous meeting hall venue. A fun fact for you all: the town hall also hosts our very own local court cases! How exciting!

Gabbson Public Pool: Want to get out of the blistering heat? There's no better respite than the cool waters of Gabbson! As the only pool in town, it is THE hot spot for Bison's many youths. Twenty five meters long and over eight feet at it's deepest, there's more than enough room for the whole gang. Special features include a diving board, a water slide, and- most recently- a hot tub! The pool is located juuustt outside of Spring Park in the middle of town, so you can't miss it!

Spring Park: Speaking of Spring Park, no tour guide list is complete without it. Over a mile from end to end, Spring Park is an all-natural destination for every nature lover out there who doesn't want to leave the comforts of civilization behind. Following the jogging path, you'll be able to visit all the best spots in the park: the basketball court, the spring-fed fountain, and of course the ever popular picnic shelter.

Youngsters' Paradise: The oldest perpetually operated business in Bison, Youngsters' Paradise was once the undisputed king of teenage hangouts. It was the hippest joint in town for over forty years! Everyone knows that things can't last forever, though; kids these days care more about their smartphones than good grub. But never fear, for Bison's favorite diner continues it's vigilant watch over the people's stomachs! If you want a shake, burger or pizza, there's not a better spot for miles than the Paradise. As a reminder to all subscribers of the Gazette, you can find your 10% off coupons to the Paradise on the back of every week's issue. Don't let those go to waste!

Supporting Cast

Sheriff Joseph Beckers: The long arm of the law in Bison, Sheriff Beckers has been working his beat for thirty years. It's been said that Joseph came out of the womb with a cigar in-between his teeth and a revolver on his hip, and he hasn't lost either in all fifty-five years of living. A cranky bastard to some and a beacon of morality to others, he's the man that everyone goes to when McKelly inevitably threatens them with some form of firearm.

Deputy Mark Baker: A new addition to the team at Bison's Sheriff's Office, Baker made his mark on the town last year when he crashed Senior Prom Night chasing three kids he'd seen sharing a joint. He ended up attempting to arrest thirty eight kids, nine adults, and the school principal for 'obstruction of justice.' All charges were dropped forty five minutes after the incident, and the mayor delivered his first public apology in over a decade and a half.

Mayor Gideon Gardens: Bison's first ever elected black mayor, Gideon Gardens makes sure everyone knows it- he even made his own official plaque to celebrate the occasion. A laid back man that cares more about posing for pictures than actual municipal work, most people either love the man or hate him. Charismatic though he may be, a collection of killer knock-knock jokes doesn't fix the pothole on Seventh Street.

Principal Linda Martins: If the term 'bubbly' could ever be applied solely to one person, not a soul in Bison would hesitate to give that title to Bison High School's newest principal. A young transfer all the way from Columbus, Linda Martins strives for academic excellence. She obsesses to outdo her competitors in the neighboring towns, almost always too eager to encourage students to study, study, study! Two years ago, during national testing, Martins called a record number of kids and personally assisted them in prepping for the test. For all of her efforts, Bison has managed to rise up to become the eighteenth worst in terms of overall grading in all Ohio townships. A staggering improvement from the tenth worst spot that it once occupied!

Ol' Cameron McKelly: Not much is known about Cameron personally. He rolled into town ten years ago in a busted up pick-up truck, and hasn't said a single friendly word to anyone in Bison since. Not to say he isn't talkative, of course; McKelly has spewed enough hatred and vitriol to make a Neo-Nazi blush. He's fiercely protective of his property, often threatening violence against any who dare get too close to his barbed fence. More than fifteen different neighbors have rotated out of his block since Cameron moved in. Attempts have been made to connect the old man to numerous missing persons cases- out of an attempt to get rid of the awful old man or from genuine suspicion no one quite knows- but neither the Gazette's nastiest dirt-finders or the Sheriff have had any luck finding anything incriminating.

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OOC Information

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Da Rules:

Listen. I know that we're all busy people here, and that we've all got a lot to do and that this whole website's just a hobby. I fully understand when people drop out, or when they can't make time to post for whatever reason. I do all that same stuff too. However.

I've found that a lot of feet dragging and time wasting kills RPs, to put it plainly. So I'll be experimenting with a little more stringent a posting schedule than I tend to see kicked around. I'd like everyone to make time for at the very least a single post per week. It doesn't have to be long. If you shoot for two paragraphs and show me that you're putting in an effort, than that's more than enough. But I would very much like to see an RP that doesn't stutter out and die because of inactivity.

On top of that, I'd ask that your posts contain high school level spelling, grammar and structure. I don't need (or even necessarily want) essays, but there needs to be enough in your posts for other people to work off of. Like I said, two paragraphs or more is just fine.

Finally, I would ask that, above all else, you're respectful to everyone involved. It shouldn't have to be said that this is a game. It's meant to be fun! But being an asshat isn't fun; especially for everyone else. If your behavior is found to be grossly rude, then I apologize, but I don't want you here.

If you're committed to the above clauses, welcome aboard! I'm looking for as many recruits for the cause as I can get. The more the merrier. If you have any questions, fill free to ask, though I'm going to try and shy away from revealing too much about the fantasy aspects of the story. Hopefully you'll be diving in with roughly the same amount of information as your characters.

The Character Sheet:

Character Sheet Template

[center]

[img]Your character's picture goes here[/img]
[h2]Character Name[/h2]
[sub]Character Quote[/sub]

[/center]
[b]Full Name:[/b] First, middle, last.
[b]Nickname:[/b] If applicable.
[b]Age:[/b] Between twelve and seventeen is preferred, may allow under twelve if your CS is very convincing.

[b]Gender:[/b] Self explanatory.
[b]Place of Birth:[/b] Were you born right here in Bison? Or did some poor soul get dragged here by the cuff of their shirt?
[b]Grade:[/b]

[b]Strengths:[/b] Personal skills, physical attributes, or inherent traits. List what's important.

[b]Weaknesses:[/b] Fears, physical drawbacks, vices. A perfect character is a boring one.

[b]Belongings:[/b] Things they own that are, again, important in some way. Could be anything from a good luck charm to their new car.

[b]Relationships:[/b] Bison is a small town, and most of you almost certainly go to the same school. It wouldn't be a stretch for everyone to know each other. I encourage prospective players to reach out to one another. Rivalries, friendships, potential crushes- you can't have a good story without 'em!

[b]Fun Fact:[/b] When the teacher tells everyone to give one 'fun fact' about themselves, what fun fact does your character give?

[b]Introduction:[/b] Let us meet your character. Outline either an important event in their life or simply a day in the life that let's us get to know them. Think of it like an IC post meant to give your fellow players an idea of who this person is, what their personality is like, and what their place in Bison is. A sample post. Length should be adequate for me to get a good idea of what your usual 'level' is.

The Redwatch

Attor

"The Watch is old. It's fadin', son, and maybe...maybe we should let it."

Attor Snakeslayer, to his last apprentice

Name:
Attor Snakeslayer

Rank:
Watcher

Appearance:
Mice have many enemies. Their foes come in any number of shapes and sizes. Great and small, from the tiniest shrew upstart to the vicious serpent monsters that tower above them, Mice have many enemies indeed. The greatest of these, though, is one often forgotten. Young mice in particular worry more about rats, weasels and lizards; they don't remember that foe of foes until their whiskers are long and their paws are wrinkled. Only in the final whispers of their years do Mice tend to turn their eye on the enemy that takes more Mice than all the rest.

That enemy, of course, is time.

And Attor knows it well.

Time's claws have worn him down. They have scratched, cut and bitten until that once proud soul is little more than a shadow of his former self, though the mouse would never admit it. His ugly coat, once black as midnight, now lies across his back matted, discolored and dirty. Eyes of unbreakable steel that once stared death in the face with unblinking courage have dulled and quieted, like the edge of an overused blade.

That was what Attor was, in truth: an old sword that'd seen one too many battles.

His right ear is torn; chipped like the brittle edge of a rusted dagger. His whiskers are long and droopy, nearly brushing against the ground when Attor goes to sit.

The marks of war and violence are prevalent across him, to the point where one would be hard-pressed to mark Attor as anything but an old soldier. Scars adorn most of his coat and body, from cuts to poorly healed burns and everything in-between. The worst of these injuries is a long, gnarly tear across his right forearm. A rat's blade tasted deep in his flesh many a moon ago, and Attor has had trouble opening that paw ever since. He was forced to relearn how to use both quill and sword with his left arm, though it's hard to tell he's not a natural lefty given how long ago that was.

Even the Snakeslayer's cloak has not aged well. Once bright like polished bronze, his mentor had remarked that Attor was more weasel than mouse, such was his slipperiness and savagery. Both of those traits have been worn down to the nub, much like the coloring of his cloak. Old bones don't dip and dive as they used to, and Attor finds little satisfaction in bloodshed anymore. His cloak is torn and discolored, covered in rough, self-made patches to keep it from falling apart. He's in dire need of a replacement, though the mouse would rather die than replace the last thing his master ever gave him.

Personality:
Attor Snakeslayer is the best storyteller in all the Kingdoms of Gnaw. Or so he would have you believe. He's had a fondness for stories since he was but a mere boy, sparked first by the tales his father would read to him before bed. Even as he grew older, stronger and wiser, Attor never lost that love, though there were fewer and fewer stories that he hadn't heard before.

So he decided to make his own.

It was easiest to find stories among the Redwatch. They were something of a living legend to Attor. And in their midst he decided to craft his own legend. He wasn't very good at it in the beginning, as all orators, writers and would-be tale-weavers can attest to. But he sharpened his verse and widened his expressions through the years, crafting newer and better tales as he went out and lived them for himself. That was how he came by his title: Snakeslayer. It was a story he'd gotten quite good at telling. Attor always attested to it's truth, though many called him a liar for it. They tried to mock him with that name, but Attor wore it with pride.

As time had helped him develop the art of speaking, so too it had worn down Attor's luster. For every tale he brought back of a vicious battle against the rats, or of a personal squabbled settled on the edge of a dagger, Attor's shoulders grew a little heavier. His smile a little slighter. The change was far from instant. Many hadn't noticed anything wrong with the mouse, even as his tales grew more grim, and his demeanor more somber. At some point, Attor forgot to keep telling of heroes, victory and bombastic adventure. He forgot the stories he'd fallen in love with as a youth.

He forgot himself.

At times, usually when Attor's quite drunk, he'll lament the passing of time. He'll lament the passing of the age of heroes, yearning for a return to a simpler era. An era where the Watch made sense- when the world made sense. A time when he would march into a village and be cheered for the band he wore upon his arm instead of shied away from, like he was a leper or a cutthroat. A time when Attor felt like a hero.

But he understands that the world doesn't work that way. He's resigned himself to the cold, unbending truth that the world no longer wants the Redwatch. Westercroft thinks itself above their help, and Glendale claims not to need it. The only place Attor feels at home is in Redfield- where he's more than content to make his final bed.

Superboy's Shitty Characters

"The Watch is old. It's fadin', son, and maybe...maybe we should let it."

Attor Snakeslayer, to his last apprentice

Name:
Attor Snakeslayer

Rank:
Watcher

Appearance:
Mice have many enemies. Their foes come in any number of shapes and sizes. Great and small, from the tiniest shrew upstart to the vicious serpent monsters that tower above them, Mice have many enemies indeed. The greatest of these, though, is one often forgotten. Young mice in particular worry more about rats, weasels and lizards; they don't remember that foe of foes until their whiskers are long and their paws are wrinkled. Only in the final whispers of their years do Mice tend to turn their eye on the enemy that takes more Mice than all the rest.

That enemy, of course, is time.

And Attor knows it well.

Time's claws have worn him down. They have scratched, cut and bitten until that once proud soul is little more than a shadow of his former self, though the mouse would never admit it. His ugly coat, once black as midnight, now lies across his back matted, discolored and dirty. Eyes of unbreakable steel that once stared death in the face with unblinking courage have dulled and quieted, like the edge of an overused blade.

That was what Attor was, in truth: an old sword that'd seen one too many battles.

His right ear is torn; chipped like the brittle edge of a rusted dagger. His whiskers are long and droopy, nearly brushing against the ground when Attor goes to sit.

The marks of war and violence are prevalent across him, to the point where one would be hard-pressed to mark Attor as anything but an old soldier. Scars adorn most of his coat and body, from cuts to poorly healed burns and everything in-between. The worst of these injuries is a long, gnarly tear across his right forearm. A rat's blade tasted deep in his flesh many a moon ago, and Attor has had trouble opening that paw ever since. He was forced to relearn how to use both quill and sword with his left arm, though it's hard to tell he's not a natural lefty given how long ago that was.

Even the Snakeslayer's cloak has not aged well. Once bright like polished bronze, his mentor had remarked that Attor was more weasel than mouse, such was his slipperiness and savagery. Both of those traits have been worn down to the nub, much like the coloring of his cloak. Old bones don't dip and dive as they used to, and Attor finds little satisfaction in bloodshed anymore. His cloak is torn and discolored, covered in rough, self-made patches to keep it from falling apart. He's in dire need of a replacement, though the mouse would rather die than replace the last thing his master ever gave him.

Personality:
Attor Snakeslayer is the best storyteller in all the Kingdoms of Gnaw. Or so he would have you believe. He's had a fondness for stories since he was but a mere boy, sparked first by the tales his father would read to him before bed. Even as he grew older, stronger and wiser, Attor never lost that love, though there were fewer and fewer stories that he hadn't heard before.

So he decided to make his own.

It was easiest to find stories among the Redwatch. They were something of a living legend to Attor. And in their midst he decided to craft his own legend. He wasn't very good at it in the beginning, as all orators, writers and would-be tale-weavers can attest to. But he sharpened his verse and widened his expressions through the years, crafting newer and better tales as he went out and lived them for himself. That was how he came by his title: Snakeslayer. It was a story he'd gotten quite good at telling. Attor always attested to it's truth, though many called him a liar for it.

As time had helped him develop the art of speaking, so too it had worn down Attor's luster. For every tale he brought back of a vicious battle against the rats, or of a personal squabbled settled on the edge of a dagger, Attor's shoulders grew a little heavier. His smile a little slighter. The change was far from instant. Many hadn't noticed anything wrong with the mouse, even as his tales grew more grim, and his demeanor more somber. At some point, Attor forgot to keep telling of heroes, victory and bombastic adventure. He forgot the stories he'd fallen in love with as a youth.

He forgot himself.

At times, usually when Attor's quite drunk, he'll lament the passing of time. He'll lament the passing of the age of heroes, yearning for a return to a simpler era. An era where the Watch made sense- when the world made sense. A time when he would march into a village and be cheered for the band he wore upon his arm instead of shied away from, like he was a leper or a cutthroat. A time when Attor felt like a hero.

But he understands that the world doesn't work that way. He's resigned himself to the cold, unbending truth that the world no longer wants the Redwatch. Westercroft thinks itself above their help, and Glendale claims not to need it. The only place Attor feels at home is in Redfield- where he's more than content to make his final bed.

The Redwatch

I was super into this one the last time around. Definitely have my interest in giving it another wack.