Supermaxx

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

@Saint Maxx
I know you have X-Men, and so I'm asking if you would be okay if I do X-23 alone or as Wolverine?

@CosmicComet

I had no plans for either of them, so give it a go!

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

<Snipped quote by Saint Maxx>

Well, it happened once and The Bounty Hunters had a lot of fun getting blown up, thank you very much.

@DocTachyon

Punisher and VigRider was one of my favorite crossovers so I'd tend to agree

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

<Snipped quote by Sep>

something lined up with Doc,

@Simple Unicycle

Oboi I hope it actually happens this time _{I love you guys}

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

@Lord Wraith
Sorry about disappearing, been a bit ill. While sick I re-evaluated my plans for Batman and decided he would not be my final choice to play. Currently considering some other characters, maybe some mutants? Expect a new character proposal in the next couple of days.

@Jareth

Looking forward to it! The world could always use a few more mutants.

Superboy's Shitty Characters

House Information

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My Hider

Synopsis

Founded in the Age of Heroes by Brandon the Builder, the Starks have ruled in the North for thousands of years- first as the Kings of Winter and now the Wardens in the North. Having narrowly survived the War of the Five Kings and the Long Night, the Starks have spent the last eighty years in relative isolation from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, attempting to deal with their own internal squabbles. They've invested a great deal of resources into shoring up the Neck and rebuilding their fleet at White Harbor, and have begun securing alliances with other Great Houses to ensure the North never falls again.

Head of House

Lord Theon Stark

Seat

Winterfell

Demesne

House Manderly of White Harbor
House Glover of Deepwood Motte
House Umber of Last Hearth
House Dustin of Barrow Hall
House Karstark of Karhold
House Reed of Greywater Watch
House Ryswell of The Rills
House Flint of Flint’s Fingers
House Mormont of Bear Isle
House Thenn of Dreadfort
House Redbeard of Sea Dragon Point

Recent History

Rickon Stark 306 - 340 AC

After the ascension of Queen Daenerys Targaryen to the Iron Throne and the death of Jon Snow, House Stark was left to lick its wounds and pick up the pieces of what remained. Many of its surviving members left Winterfell to pursue their own ends: Sansa to the Vale to live out her life as an Arryn, Brann traveled Beyond the Wall to continue his mysterious duties as the Three-Eyed Raven, and Arya vanished in the night, never to be heard from again. Only Rickon Stark, barely more than a boy, was left to rebuild.

And there was much rebuilding to be done. The Long Night had ravaged the North, all the way from the Last Hearth down to the tip of the Neck. Even Winterfell had fallen to the armies of the dead, forcing the Northmen to ride south of the Trident until the Night King was eventually defeated. Returning home brought no shortage of monumental challenges, and without the support of the other kingdoms and the Iron Throne, the North might never have returned to its former glory.

Men helped for as long as the memory of winter remained. Compassion and unity rebuilt many of the fortresses, towns, and villages that the dead had torn apart, but it couldn't last forever. As time ran on and the years passed away, the apocalypse became a distant recollection, and aid came in smaller and smaller supply until it eventually ran wholly dry. Rickon, now an old man with greying hair and a litter of children to call his own, begged Daenerys for further gold dragons to complete reconstruction- his requests were denied, and he was sent home with a hardened heart.

Jon Stark 340 - 371 AC

Rickon took ill not long after returning home from King's Landing, and though he fought the disease for weeks, eventually succumbed. Jon, thirty-one at the time of his father's passing, took poorly to the news that the Iron Throne had abandoned them. He set to work finding the necessary resources elsewhere: new, harsh taxation on his vassals brought in the dragons he needed, but also a sleuth of consequences. The newly christened houses of Thenn and Redbeard, unused to such burdens, pushed back hard against their new lord's legislation. Jon attempted to persuade them with diplomacy but found such methods inadequate with the former Wildings. Rather than concede to them, however, he chose force. He personally rode to Sea Dragon Point and the Dreadfort with a small company of veteran warriors to see the collection done at the tip of lance and sword. Both Houses complied, but they wouldn't soon forget how their Lord responded to disagreement.

Reconstruction continued briskly with the newly acquired coinage. Every fief and holdfast was returned to its former glory over the decade's long project, and a number of new villages were built up with some of the excess to make room for the new Freefolk immigrants. The worst of the afflicted noble Houses, the Umbers, were ecstatic to see their land refurbished and their halls ring with the joy of feasting once again, and their relationship with House Stark quickly flourished. A betrothal between the young heir Dorren Umber and Jon's sister, Jocelyn, was set up, and they were wed in the spring of 354 AC.

That wedding was not without incident, unfortunately. Lords from all across the North had ridden to Last Hearth to attend, including the hot-blooded Lord of the Redbeards, Bael, son of Gerrick Kingsblood. Bael got considerably drunk during the feast that followed the wedding and went on a long and angry tirade about the Battle at Long Lake that had claimed the life of his ancestor, Raymund Redbeard, and many other members of his family. His words were met by the ill-placed goading of one similarly young and drunk Lord Osric Umber. The two came to blows in short order, and soon enough their retinues joined into the brawl.

No one knows who drew the first blade, but blood was drawn between the Redbeards and the Umbers. The melee was quick, chaotic and brutal; Osric was heavily wounded and succumbed to his injuries later that night, while Bael was able to escape back to Sea Dragon Point with what few of his surviving men remained. Jon took his brother, Willam, and a collection of bannermen and warriors to drag Osric from his keep to see justice for the murder of Lord Umber. They were ambushed before they'd even arrived at the holdfast, and a series of violent skirmishes ensued as Jon and his men pressed toward the keep. There they found Bael and his men held up with the gates barred and ready for a fight.

Rather than risk more bloodshed in either storming the keep or besieging it, however, Jon attempts to negotiate with Bael. It took several days of back-and-forth, but the Lord Paramount and his vassal eventually reached an accord. In exchange for relaxed taxation and forgiveness for his murderous and treasonous acts, Bael must swear that neither he nor any of his descendants would ever again take up arms against House Stark, on pain of death. The decision was...controversial, to say the least, and Jon continued to receive criticisms for the way he handled the situation until the day he died.

Theon Stark 371 - 379 AC

oboiherewego

Realm Relations

What are the established perceptions and alliances between your house and others in the realm?

Storyline Premise

What is the story you are wishing to tell with this character and his house?

Stark Family Tree

Character Information

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My Hider

Identity

Lord Theon Stark

Age

32

Role

Lord of Winterfell
Warden of the North

Characterization

Describe said character's reputation and values.

Attributes & Talents

Describe said character's abilities and skills.

Immediate Family

This is where words go.

Personal Relations

Describe notable (PC) characters they know, why they know them, and what their opinion of said character is.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Superboy's Shitty Characters

With dignitaries of greater importance than themselves beginning their departure, Tarquin’s eyes flashed over to the stunted human - dwarf as they called themselves - and the company that this Aspect-Human kept. A handful of the familiar flying figures, though not of his own race, radiating foreign magic and not of the pheromones that Tarquin had associated with his species. More of the short figures and a few taller, slender beings around the impressively robust cage holding the now muzzled beast. His feet gently tapping the ground, Eteri gave a loose smirk over to the others of his Order; Particularly Galladon and Leikn. The former was poised and ready to smash into the cage to just wrestle the former Aspect, whatever provoked the creature formerly known as Asta, the Harpy had not a clue. A questioning look up at their chief guard - the prince who bore zero resemblance to the titanic king - and Tarquin figured that this man likewise had next to no clue either. A questioning glance at the other warrior monks and Tarquin’s full suspicions were confirmed.

No one knew a thing about this monster. They were just reacting to its movements.

‘Well,’ He cupped his chin thoughtfully. ‘That’s a good way to get your face bitten in two.’ Playing by a predators rules, only ever changing an attitude based on its hostilities was how prey often fell into a trap. If Asta’s new form was at least as intelligent as a modern dire wolf, Tarquin estimated that she would be more than equipped to plan ten steps ahead of her captors, if this was their approach. Eteri quizzically wondered what either Galladon or the Jotunn thought of the Goddess born anew, though the gritting teeth of the Aspect of Protection betrayed the man’s inner thoughts. ‘I think he’s fought them before, hasn’t he?’ The Harpy shook his head at the thought. From balled up fists to narrow strips for eyes, the Aspect of Protection took a blatantly aggressive stance. A clear challenge to the animal’s supremacy. ‘Perhaps,’ Tarquin whistled as he paced forward. ‘He thinks she’s a challenge to his.’ That brought out a shallow laugh.

“Is something funny, Eteri?” Leikn’s monotone draw gave the harpy pause.

“I tend to think most things are a little funny, don’t you?”

The walking wardrobe shook his head in protest, eyes glowering at the significantly younger titanspawn. “Life and death isn’t a joking matter, Eteri. Treating it as such will see you a corpse before you can even prove yourself useful.”

The Harpy’s smirk fell only slightly. Such a response was almost routine from the Jotunn, yet it didn’t buffer the entire blow of the comment. “I’m sure that won’t happen. I’ve got half my life yet. Plenty of time for even you to apologize to me.” His eyebrows wiggled at the notion. Leikn merely turned on the balls of his heel and grunted.

With the parade of armed forces - the company of Asgaheim’s finest accompanied by fifteen warriors of the Silent Order - maneuvering forward, careful to give the carriages assigned to the politically important a wide berth, the unofficial official leader of the wagon train turned to Thaddeus. Tarquin, now hovering feet off the air with a rhythmic flap of his wings, turned to observe both.

“After we clear the fishing village, Irst,” The man spoke with certainty, though his eyes stared past the dwarven prince and into the cage. “We’ll break from the main road and head North, then West. We’ll completely avoid the city and most of the more populated villages along the way.” It was not a topic to be discussed. Galladon merely explained what he was going to do, Eteri noticed, and expected compliance. Even now, as they made their slow progression, the Aspect of Protection’s eyes were heavy on the former Aspect, a warriness or fear - even maybe a hint of eagerness - in those eyes of his.

“Bit of a long way to the palace.” Tarquin decided to finally speak up - he’d been silent enough. “I’m sure the people of the capital would enjoy seeing us parading through.” Already, Eteri could see the cogs turning in Galladon’s head, working through the provocative suggestion and wondering whether to discipline the warrior or rip off his wings.

“Don’t make these poor jests.” He finally responded.

Carefully looking at the man, Tarquin decided to end his little game here. “You’ll have to forgive me.” A hand roamed the scalp of his head, lightly massaging it. “It’s been a very dull morning for me. Leikn’s been bitter and opposed to having the faintest discussion since we’ve arrived.” Usually, Tarquin would keep the game going until he managed to get one of his comrades to snap and swipe at him. It was a fun way of testing their limits, seeing exactly what perturbed them more than most things. Eteri considered a way to keep these immortal warriors humble. They saw the harpy as an annoying song bird. “In the interest of our safety,” The Harpy rose in the air, stopping once he was roughly eye level with the dwarven prince. “Is there anything you can inform us about our Goddess here? Any particular color she doesn’t like? Favored meal? Displays of intelligence?” The Harpy rolled his neck, stealing a glance at the giant wolf. “Have you tried giving her a tummy rub?”

Superboy's Shitty Characters

The prison carriage forged ahead of the procession of Titan and Aspect dignitaries, its iron-plated wheels churning across the dirt roads without difficulty. Its coachman was an old man with a shaggy grey mane and tired eyes, and if he cared at all that he was transporting a wolf god to the capital of Atlantis, he didn't show it. He had lived a long life in service to Asgaheim, and he had seen more wicked and stranger things than most men knew existed. Gnarled hands urged the cart's stags ahead with a whip of the reins, his head bowed low so the brim of his hat kept the sun from his eyes.

His dwarven companion was just as quiet. Thaddeus, Prince of Asgaheim and Lord of House Vannerac, was busy scanning the treeline for nothing in particular. He didn't expect an attack from without- even the Atlanteans, bold as some of them were, were not foolish enough to attack both Asgaheim and Fomoria at once. Nay, if there were violence, it would come from the twisted monster that he once called a friend. 'And I'll call her friend once more,' he assured himself as he glanced back over his shoulder at the beast. She stood as tall and broad as a castle's battlement, her fur was black as midnight, and her claws were longer and sharper than any blade he had ever encountered. Asta had never been a particularly dainty woman, but this...this thing was nothing like her.

He turned away, letting his gaze return to the trees. He prayed that Atlantis's sorcerers could find a way to help her. Thaddeus was a sailor and a warrior by trade. The only problems he knew how to solve involved a compass or an axe. This however...this was all beyond him. All he could do now was to call out to his ancestors and hope they had some answers.

Their march was silent and uneventful for the most part. The thirty dwarves that flanked Asta's carriage rarely spoke among each other, the grim nature of their duties not lost on them as they were forced to stare up at the behemoth for the whole of the journey. Fear wasn't the right word for what they felt. They were the venerable honor guard of the Black Iron Company, a force which had proved itself time and again against the Titan Kings of the south. Asta's transformation may have been a new phenomena, but primal giants and angry beasts were not. Even combat against gods was not a new thing to some of them, as the campaigns into the south had seen them face off against that corrupted cabal on more than one occasion.

The scouting party of five Valkyries was of a similar caliber. They had been hand-picked from Elliya's Chosen, a Valkyrian regiment that had been serving Yaeg'Bor personally since his first conquests in the north. They had eyes sharper than steel and glided on the wind better than any bird could ever hope to. Though they were cunning warriors in their own right, they had been brought on the North's Roar for their impeccable ability to scour the landscape and note enemy positions without being seen in record time. Of everyone present, it was likely those five were the most eager to see Asta break from her chains so that they might test themselves against such great query.

Tense though the journey was, it had thus far been fairly uneventful. Thaddeus could feel himself growing restless, his fingers dancing idly against the shaft of his hatchet. He needed to find something to occupy his mind other than his wandering thoughts and worries. Thankfully for the Red Dwarf, the Silent Order's members didn't all abide by their name, and Galladon wanted to discuss how they'd be traversing Atlantis. "Seems a wise path." Thaddeus agreed with a nod. "You know these lands far better than I. I defer to your judgment." He glanced over at the coachman beside him. The old human gave only a grunt, acknowledging that he'd heard the discussion and saying nothing more about it.

The harpy made a goading joke about parading through the capital itself that didn't seem to land with any of his fellow Atlanteans. Galladon himself looked like he was ready to tear his own subordinate from the sky for the off-color jest. Thaddeus let his lips lighten in a slight grin, finding some solace in the man's humor. He considered responding in kind, but given the dark look on the Aspect of Protection, he figured it would be in poor taste.

The thought of speaking with the harpy must've wormed its way into the bird man's head, for only moments later he was hovering at Thaddeus's eye level and asking him a number of equally ridiculous questions. Thaddeus gave a glance over at the Silent Order's leader, mulling it over once more before deciding there was little harm in it. Conversation was an easy way to pass the time. "Well..." He began, thoughtfully running a hand through his bushy red beard. "I'm not too sure there's any color, in particular, she doesn't like, but she is quite fond of red. 'Specially when it's slathered on meat. Speakin' of, she likes basically anything with a bit'a meat on it. Slabs of meat. Meat on bones. Meat covered in armor. Didn't have any problem digesting any of it, I don't think."

He paused at the question of intelligence, taking a moment to look back at Asta. She was laying her head on her front paws, staring right back at him with those crimson eyes of hers. It was hard to tell what was looking at him. Many an animal held a cunning behind their eyes, some of them frighteningly close to that of men. "I'm not sure." He finally responded with a shrug of his shoulders. "Some days it almost looks like she knows what we're saying. Others she's just tryin'ta eat us the moment we get close. Hard to get a read on her. Hoping your sorcerers can help us out with that one."

"I've yet to try to rub her belly, sad as it is to say." Thaddeus shifted gears to looking back to the harpy, his grin going wider. "You're more than welcome to try it, though."

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

@Master Bruce

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

@Saint Maxx It’s not that I want to play her. What it is is the fact that Wiccan and Speed are her reincarnated children (I had to go back and check cause that info still boggles my mind) but I can figure out ways to replace them.

@alexfangtalon

I can see a world where their origins are divorced from Wanda's. I didn't have any plans for them anyway.