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Post by Colonel Nick Fury on Oct 26, 2007 18:59:41 GMT -5
If you want to roleplay as an original that you made up (not a already existing comic character) character, copy the form below and paste it into a reply to this thread and fill it out.
Remember your character doesn't have to be a superhero or supervillain. They can be an average joe.
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Post by Bloody Vicious and Pitbull on Oct 27, 2007 9:00:16 GMT -5
Character's Real Name: Kristoph Armstead villain Name: Bloody Vicious
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Occupation: Organized criminal
Powers and Abilities : None whatsoever. He is in excellent physical condition however and is a superb swordsman with amazing reflexes and hand eye coordination.
Weaknesses: He is completely human, that is his only real weakness. Also, his Katana. While he is a formidable opponent WITH it, disarming him would make the ordeal much easier.
Appearance: Tall, limber and fit. He keeps in shape, but is no Olympic athlete. His shoulder length hair is almost never tied back, allowing it to frame his sharp, handsome features. Even if he comes off as attractive, there's always a sadistic, almost wild look in his eyes. He often dresses in practical, but exquisite finery, and almost always wears a trench coat in order to hide the blade he has grown quite attached to with him.
History: Leading a life of privilege, Kristoph's Father was a self made man in the gangs around Britain. His place was sealed when his Father, Arnold Bennedtti married the mob bosses's daughter. While this could have been a death sentence, the boss had deemed him worth the time. He was hard working, paying his dues in the syndicate and finally earning the right to the highest honor. In honor of the boss, they kept his name when their child was born. With this stipulation agreed to, their first child came quite soon afterwards, Kristoph Armstead. There was not a whim of his that was indulged as he grew up, the vast amounts of wealth that the Boss himself could provide were used to please Kristoph, by the boss's and Arnold's wishes. Seeing his son being treated as he always wished to, he thought nothing of it. Soon, however, his beloved son was quickly spoiled. Growing bored with the small dalliances that he could do with the Boss's power, he sought other thrills. Even as he did, he maintained a facade of kindness. He attended boarding schools and even had a personal trainer, keeping his mind and body sharp. He may have been spoiled, but he was not stupid. While he wasn't the smarted in his school, he did have quite the instinct, and was ruthlessly cunning. He graduated the top of his class through his own hard work... just not all of it. During a kendo lesson, he found that he quite favored the form that was being taught to him. Since graduating, he had gone on quite a sew sabbaticals, this one took him to the land of Japan.
He sought one of their treasures, the famed Taga Kuriki, a master weapon smith, renowned in small, secret circles as a genius of his art. Kristoph wanted a blade for himself, custom designed. Taga refused, and soon regretted it...
Coming from Japan, The boss was furious, as well as his Father. They had no idea that this was the true face of Kristoph, also known as Bloody Vicious unknown until recently to the two for reasons that soon became obvious. With only the slightest digging they saw what kind of ruthless, despicable person 'their' son had grown up to be. While the boss was secretly pleased, the Father was aghast, the Mother even more so. They did not have much of a place to object though, as they both died shortly after of 'mysterious' circumstances. This falling out eventually landed him where he is. Though he has plenty to let him coast by, he's not content to merely exist in luxury anymore. Now, he wants to himself be a made man.
RP Sample: Metal sounded out harshly against the stones of the ancient cobblestone path, sending idle sparks to illuminate the evening. The coterie of thugs that flocked around the tall blond looked about, snickering and joking among themselves. He strode purposefully toward the ramshackle hut near the end of the run down tourist trap of a village. Those in their way were either shoved aside by Pitbull, or one of the other thugs that felt they needed to add more of a swagger to their step. Though they did not know who they were, or even understand their language, they somehow knew what they had come for. They murmured among themselves, staring after the disrespectful man as he made his way to 'The Master's' hut. It had been a well kept secret, but not kept well enough as they saw. All it took were a few loose lips and the right amount of pressure and soon he found himself at the door of the old man's hut. The old master himself, Taga Kuriki answered the door, though it had taken awhile, his grayed limbs moving slowly with age. Politely he nodded, even though it was apparent what they had come for. Vicious shook his head, having expected someone older, hands in his pockets he did not even bow his head respectfully to his obvious elder. "Let's talk." he spoke fluently in Japanese, the thugs around him merely snickered at the alien sound if the language coming from their boss, though a glance silenced them immediately. "Wait outside." Were his only utterances, and they were obeyed to the letter. Blood stepped inside without hesitation, the thugs milling around the door to make sure no one decided to go inside uninvited.
"So, old man. Curious, but how long did you think you could hide such immaculate pieces of art?" the blond haired man questioned, not even waiting for permission before lightly taking a blade off of the wall. His fingers trailed over the steel slowly, long fingernails lightly raking across as he examined the craftsmanship. "Oh, I'm no connoisseur, but even an amateur like me can tell that this is a very fine blade. How much do you even sell these things for?" his thumb lightly slipped on the blade, immediately slicing it deeply open. As the red globule dripped to the floor, he merely chuckled and set the blade back upon the wall, a hand quickly darting inside of his dress coat and withdrawing a handkerchief, curling it around the bleeding appendage.
"One hundred thousand, U.S currency that is. If you get started right now, I'll through in another 20 grand." with those words he turned and began to make his way to the door.
"No"
That is all it took, one simple word, one simple syllable. A mere utterance to turn a man into a beast. The old man thought he was dealing with a thug, but soon found that he was dealing with something far worse. Something more akin to a monster. it was not hard to slam his hard leathered boot into the old man's knee, sending him crashing to the ground. With another solid kick to the side, the old man was forced onto his belly.
"I believe I misheard you. I thought you just said no, and that would be the wrong answer. Now, what did you say?" As the man struggled for his breath, he felt the metal heel of the boot upon the back of his hand, pressure slowly being applied. "You should probably answer soon, or you'll be making my blade with only one hand... The clock is ticking."
As of note, the katana he has is constructed by a master smith, countlessly folded and constructed from a "heaven's mineral", an ore passed down for generations that supposedly fell from the sky. The actual mineral itself was of mystic origin, while the smith had while forging it imbued it with his very own chi, giving the blade the phenomenal piercing and cutting abilities, while at the same time making it extremely durable. The blade itself is 70 cm and razor sharp, able to slice through some of the hardest objects that lack magical resistance.
Character's Real Name: Earl Jones villain Name: Pitbull Gender: Male Age: 28 Occupation: Thug/cronie/henchman
Powers and Abilities (if any): He is incredibly strong, though not on par with a 'meta human'. He can, at optimum circumstances, press 800lbs and is quite resilient to injury. He is by no means bulletproof, but it is quite a bit harder to take him down than it is any old thug. He also possesses amazing stamina, taking much longer to tire, and needing much less sleep.
Power Gained by (if any power): He was merely born the way he was. No one is sure if he’s a mutant, or just some sort of genetic throwback.
Weaknesses: Despite not being nearly as dumb as he looks, he lacks direction and ambition. He's not leader material, and without a leader to guide him, he either causes the wrong kind of mayhem, the kind that could land him in serious trouble, or just sits around doing nothing. Also, despite being a strong fighter, he's undisciplined, lacking any sort of martial arts training. His bulk also could get in the way, as he is around 7’11 and four hundred pounds of muscle, there is not many elevators, or cars he could ride… or doorways that he could fit through without a bit of crouching. This also makes him a very LARGE target.
Appearance: A monster of a man, his shoulders are almost as wide as men are tall. His body is loaded with thick muscle, barely an ounce of fat on him. He dresses in a casual manner, shopping in the 'BIGGEST AND TALLEST' places, usually a pair of jeans and a 'wife-beater' is all he wears, along with large leather boots. His hair is short, and usually topped with a bowler hat. He usually has a listless look upon his face, unless his leader calls to him for his attention. He likes to tell jokes, and also has an extremely deep voice. He wears the bowler hat, since he would like to fancy himself one of the classic mobsters, the kind you read about or watch on T.V.
History: Earl Jones has always been big, bigger than the rest of the kids by a long shot. Normally this would get him ostracized, but he could also whip all of their butts as well, so this pretty much made him king of the schoolyard growing up. Of course, when his Father got the chance to send his 'genius son', the same one that has been getting the more educated, intelligent kids to do his homework. This posed a problem of course. He found that it was much harder to knockabout the kids at the boarding school, simply because they knew that they could weather a beating or so, if not just to see the big bully fail. What they didn't count on was the sheer intimidating presence of a six foot sixteen year old. It was not long before he was noticed in the school by another intimidating presence. Kristoph earned Earl's friendship with only a few kind, flattering words and promises of connections Earl could have only dreamed of. Despite his mean disposition, he wanted to help his Father with the home and his three brothers and four sisters.
All of them were too young to work, and his mother spent her time raising them, while his Father worked two times to provide poorly for them. Knowing that with Kristoph's connections could allow him to do just that, and make money on the side, he eagerly became his right hand man. Whether or not the two would consider each other friends is debatable, but they both have a healthy respect for the other, and see that working together is for their mutual benefit.
RP Sample: The sound of flesh against flesh was commonplace for Pitbull, the enforcer for his boss Vicious. The man was thrown to the wall with one blow, though it was a pulled punch. After all, Earl's fist was almost as big as the guy's stomach, and the point wasn't to kill him. He would have rather not killed him either, that sort of stuff always hung on his conscious. "So ya see, if Vicious don't get the money, he gets angry... and when he gets angry, I gotta get up and deal with it, and that makes ME angry, ya get me?" he growled menacingly at the man curled up on the floor, though he was really just wondering if he'd really hit him hard enough to merit the groans that the guy was emitting.
"We at an agreement?" he asked, his large arms folding as he glared to the man, now straightening himself and standing. "I mean, I don't like bein' bothered, but I got plenty'a time to wreck your ass if you try to skim off the top, hear?" When the man nodded he could only assume that he was agreeing. "Good. See ya later. 10:00, poke night, huh?" he asked, fixing the hat upon his head first, then bringing a large zippo to his lips to light the cigar that he clenched tightly between his teeth.
"Look, Vins. Ain't nothin' really personal. You knew what the hell you were gettin' into when you went along with Bloody. I can't keep coverin' yer ass or I'm gonna hafta deal with Bloody himself, an' he ain't gonna be forgivin' like I am. I've seen what he does to people, an' I ain't gonna let that happen to me, yeah?" he reasoned, even as he helped his friend up with a large hand. "Now just keep yer d**n nose clean and play the game right. I don't wanna hafta kill ya.”
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Post by Colonel Nick Fury on Oct 27, 2007 9:16:07 GMT -5
Very interesting characters. Look forward to role-playing with them. Remember to the list the two character in your signature. Approved ~ Colonel Nick Fury
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Jane Corsiek
Newbie
Sweet as honey, deadly as poison
Posts: 47
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Post by Jane Corsiek on Oct 27, 2007 11:13:38 GMT -5
(I hope this is in the right spot) Character's Real Name: Jane Corsiek Superhero/villain Name: aka. Jane Doe (but she rarely goes by this now) Gender: Female Age: 24 Occupation: She does odd jobs for the most, she worked for the government for sometime (read history) Powers and Abilities (if any): Self Healing ~ Though she can heal herself of any wound, if her heart stops beating before her healing is complete she most likely will die. (so she can be killed) Power Gained by (if any power): She comes from a long line of mutants, but she is the only female to have it so far in her family's history. Weaknesses: if her heart stops beating before her healing is complete she most likely will die. She is also often anti-social, mainly to protect herself and the people around her from harm she fears she will cause due to her past (read history) Appearance: See sig. Hair: Black, short Eyes: Hazel when powers are off, blue when healing Height: 5' 7" Weight: 125 lbs History: She grew up in a military family, the only girl out of 6 boys. She was shooting guns and throwing knifes by the age of 4. She passed her brothers in studies and battle training. She left home at the age of 16 after a fight with her oldest brother, he tried to kill her and it went back on him, killing himself. She blames herself for the accident. During the war she was a spy, mainly for the good guys. She stopped and went into a low stage of hiding after she figured out she was going to be dismissed over revenge gone sour. A man she had once worked for discovered she was a mutant and was going to try and turn her side against her in revenge over her ratting him out when he was selling illegal cargo to a different army. Other Information: Personality: She is a person who can care for herself. She is never without her guns or wits. She keeps to herself for the most part, but will open willingly if asked to. She is a dare devil among many other things. She never backs from a challenge or fight if you seem enough to fight to teach a lesson to. RP Sample: The rain was unbearably painful, the stings of the hot July drops on your bare skin was enough to make you want to shout. It had been storming like this for a week now, making the earth thick and mucky.... but there was a disturbance in this peaceful seeming setting... a couple of people fighting. Jane gave a bark of pain when Adam kicked her arm. She fell back into the mud, gasping as she tried to get up again. "Adam... its me... Jane, come on, snap out of it!" she shouted at him as she got to her feet, dodging another blow from her oldest brother's foot. Adam, a tall dark haired man, stood before her. He was out of breath and rippled with adrenaline. He had returned home from a horrific war scene not 2 weeks ago... and had gone mad shortly after. He had been seemingly sane for about a week, but tonight that changed. A flash of thunder drew out his memories of the bodies around him in the war. He let out a hollow scream and charged, again, at Jane. Jane kicked him back with a swift blow of her leg, making him land hard on the ground. He rolled over and got to his feet, grabbing a sharp stick the lightening had shot off a tree earlier. "Adam! No!" She screeched, folding her around up to block the blow from her chest. She didnt realize how much time had passed.... until she opened her eyes when she did not receive the blow. She looked at her brother, now laying face down in the mud... a stick through his torso. She fell back on the ground, realizing what had happened. He had tripped and fallen on his weapon... She let out a terrifying scream of remorse and anger at herself...Jane woke in a gasp, curled on her side. A cold sweat covered her as she laid there. She looked at the window.... morning was just arriving. She rolled onto her back and covered her eyes. She let out a moan of agony when she realized it was a dream what was really true. She closed her eyes, but jerked awake when the images returned, her sign to get up and start her day.
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Post by Colonel Nick Fury on Oct 27, 2007 11:44:58 GMT -5
Yep it's in the right place. Approved ~ Colonel Nick Fury
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Cora
Newbie
Posts: 1
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Post by Cora on Nov 5, 2007 19:40:44 GMT -5
Character's Real Name:Cora Veronna Superhero/villain Name: Siren
Gender: Female Age: 23 Occupation: Bartender at times, but mainly nothing
Powers and Abilities (if any): Siren ~ though she cant take away true love Power Gained by (if any power): She learned of her powers at about the age of 13. The boy she had a crush on for most of her life finally talked to her and she noticed a change after wishing hard enough that he would ask her out and he did. She quickly got scared about this and left, but she now often uses her powers to her advantage. Weaknesses: She can be harmed by anything that can kill a normal human. She is also reluctant to have a relationship, its just not her style, so love is a weakness for her.
Appearance: See siggy. Height: 5' 7" Weight: 125lbs Hair color: long, blond Eye color: smoke grey
History: She grew up in a broken home. Her father didn't want her and claimed she wasn't his, her mother and herself fought all the time. When she was 13 she ran away, her mother didn't even bother to report her missing. When she was 15 Magneto brought her to the brotherhood. (I can change this, I've just used her on other sites like this before). She stayed there off and on, but went out on her own and has remained that way for 5 years. She might return someday, but not for some time.
Other Information: She is fond of flirting, and loves to show off.... and to put it lightly shes a bit of a sleeper.
RP Sample: "Oh, like you didnt enjoy the view." Cora laughed as the man tossed her onto the sidewalk, then tossed her pants out there with her.
The man turned and disappeared back into his house, reappearing after Cora had pulled her jeans on. He carried a gun, aiming it at her. "Get out of here!" He snapped at her.
"And what does your daughter have to say 'bout that?" She laughed, lashing her powers out at the man and watching him sink a little and the gun lower. "I dont think she really wanted me to leave or for you to toss me out like a bag of trash neither." She went on, taking a step back when the gun rose once more.
"It aint right for you and my daughter to be together!" He howled at her.
"Oh, get out of Mayberry and pay attention to the world, old man." she shook her head. "I swear. Every time I return to the south y'all got somethin' new cookin' to mess with my vacation." She brushed her hair back and shrugged. "Tell your girl to give me a call... I'm sure she knows my name well, after all shes been callin' it for a few hours now." She laughed once again. She started to move again when he lifted the gun and howled with rage. She looked at the open window to the bed room she was just in and gave a short wave to the girl standing there, covered in a blanket and ignoring her mother's raging remarks. This one Cora hadnt deceived by using her powers, she merely gave the girl a chance to act on what she had suggested. She flicked her hair back again and tugged her shirt a little to straighten it up before heading toward the dinner for a bit of breakfast... another day in the world of Cora.
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Post by Colonel Nick Fury on Nov 6, 2007 17:15:24 GMT -5
Approved ~ Colonel Nick Fury/Carnage/Iron Man
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Post by Thaddius Gone on Nov 12, 2007 7:28:28 GMT -5
IT... IS a DOOZY
Character's Real Name: Thaddious Gone Superhero/villian Name: None Gender: Male Age:Classfied Occupation: Classified, to all but higher ups in the government. Files would go to show that he is a national, perhaps even Global threat.
Powers and Abilities: Photographic memory, Extremely intelligent, intuitive and perceptive. A veritable genius in multiple fields with Power Gained by: Those who come across his government file would see that this is under serious debate. There has been no DNA evidence to say that he is or is not a mutant… since no one has ever gotten one from him. He does state that he hates mutants, that he wants to see them humiliated and battered before him. Weaknesses: He is extremely eccentric, which could definitely be his downfall. Though he is dangerous even if he is unarmed, he can die just like any other human.
Appearance: He looks like any average human. Caucasion male with no strong side from any ethnic group, his hair is short but unkempt since it does not occupy his thoughts often. He only dresses in the best finery.
History: Before he became a menace is a mystery to many, as Thaddius Gone did all he could to have any trace of his existence destroyed once he realized his ambitions. What is known is that he is quite wealthy. Whether he is the head of a multi-billion dollar conglomerate, or is a heavy player in the drug trafficking game is undecided, but it is likely that he has his fingers in as many money making stews as possible, as it is obvious he has the money to spare. While no one knows this save himself, he grew up a rather gifted child. A perfectly healthy little boy, but with the only health problem he had was his own mind. Even at a young age, he could break down the mathematical equations to even the simplest thing… such as how fast a glass of milk spills its contents when it is suddenly tipped, breaking such things down to the milliseconds. Most questions he was given, he could respond almost immediately with the answer… the most disturbing thing was that he should not have even known the mechanics of math… Or that his Father had once, at the age of six stole a box of crayons and blamed it on the kid who sat in front of him on the bus. It did not take long for the child to realize that he had a inherited knowledge, memories of his forefathers. At the age of six, he knew everything that his Father knew, and his Father’s Father, and son on and so forth. Though most of it was useless memories, things that interfered with his own identity, it also granted him with decades of experience before his time. He had to update his information from the older ones, as time had changed, theories were proven wrong… but the knowledge was still there. The problem came in knowing too much, seeing everything as the numbers that made them up. He began to time everything, to break everything down into a measurable sense. It became mechanic, automatic… and that’s when things took a turn for the worst.
He slowly lost his sanity, as time slowed to a crawl for him. While many may have seen it as a gift, a blessing unlike any other… to be able to predict, and act before another even got to step one in the process… but that was not the case for Thaddious Gone. While he would have been intelligent without the genetic memory, his own natural cunning allowed him to see that he could benefit greatly from this. He kept his ability a secret, his intelligence was well hidden in the midst of mediocrity… and how he loved it. Humans, himself included, as he wouldn’t entertain the thought of being a mutant were one great machination. There were a few more important cogs than the others, but they all needed one another. The numbers were there, all of them. It was so simple to see, that no matter what time they were in, no matter what society they were a part of, the people… the rank and file, the NORMAL ones would always be a nessecity. Of course, people like himself were to be served by these other people, these beings that he soon felt were born to be below him. He soon began to think, even before reaching puberty that he was superior to everyone else. His entire family had given him the advantage, almost all of the male line had been great, thinking men… and all of their combined knowledge was brought onto him, of course for one purpose.
To make this great, human machine run better than it already was. Of course, he needed funding and that was easy enough to do, even at a young age. Intelligence was still intelligence. At the age of seventeen he used a figurehead, a man to represent himself in order to gain influence in a pharmaceutical company… and quickly climbed the company ladder, becoming the second only to the owner himself in span of two years. Of course, at that time he no longer needed his puppet, and at that point, he disposed of him… and eventually, disposed of the head of the company as well. There were much, much bigger plans to be made, much more to deal than traffic and medicines. That was when he got into the heavier deals. Military arrangements, whoever was willing to buy from him would find the supplies they needed at a low price, though each time he always gleaned as much information as possible from each person whom bought from him. Each time, it was as step closer to his goal. It was not long before he himself began to exploit his intelligence. After all, while he was still smart, there was always more to learn. The bits of information he got were used, stored in his mind.
Technology that he had stolen the blueprints from were soon altered into almost irrecognizable forms, changed to become more efficient as they should be. He saw the flaws, and while he knew that he could not fix all of them, he could fix the ones that mattered most. The more tinkering he did, the more he learned, the more he learned, the less he needed from others. Soon he was creating his own designs, and simultaneously destroying any sort of information that proved and validated his existence. It would be so much easier to work off of the grid, after all.
It was a slow, meticulous process to do so under the nose of the government, as he soon learned that an organization called S.H.I.E.L.D actually existed. Weapon X and a plethora of others were much more obvious, but S.H.I.E.L.D was a huge threat to his ambitions. Always tip toeing around SHIELD, making sure never to cross wires with them until he was ready.
Relocating himself to a different base of operations, not wanting his source of money to be comprised should he be found out, he worked from there, inventing the many things he would need to implement his plan. It took years, years in which seconds dragged on like minutes, minutes like hours, and hours like days. He was finally ready… with six robots, an assault platoon, plenty to be left behind in his base of operations… he was ready to make his first move on the first threat. Mutant kind.
Other Information: I’m keeping a lot of his stuff vague, since I want to reveal this to GMs so I don’t get a bunch of Girlscout heroes knocking on my door, asking if I want either a Chocolate Chip, Thin Mint, or JUSTICE cookies.
RP Sample: (If this profile is accepted, then this is going to be my first post anyhow.)
The mechanized squadron stormed the packed streets, their seemingly fragile design belied a terrible strength. Their metallic sheen reflected the high noon sun, an insufficent warning of their coming. The design was not a pretty one, their legs seemingly simple mechanisms, along with their arms and even their torso. From an engineering standpoint, it would look as if it would be impossible for them to even operate, but they certainly did. Their robotic hands clenched their rifles, firing thin red lasers from the tip, scorching the air with numerous shots. Most were smart enough to get out of the way, those that were not fell to the ground… if they were fortunate, they would need to be hospitalized. Those unfortuante, would leave the hopstial right out the back door. The red gleam from the visor of the machines gave them an intimidating glare, fearless in their march.
Even as the crack of firearms sounded off, a drumroll of hope provided by the police department, it proved useless. The bullets bounced off of the robots, but drew their ire. Their aims were set not on the police men, but the cars they foolishly hided behind. The man who walked in the middle of the phalanx of six droids looked almost serene, arms tucked behind his back. He was attired in a business suit, as if he was having a black tie dinner with collegues. Black from neck to toe, his dress boots were free from dirt, his clothes looking as if they had just come from the dry cleaners.
‘Requesting backup! I repeat… Requesting Backup! We have an 873 red! I repeat, a Super powered men-“
The entire report never made it to the station, as the presicion lasers burned through the car, soon igniting it into a fireball. The man did not care whether or not the policeman had lived or died. That was not the purpose, the goal of his venture to the city. Still, more and more police were coming to aid the city they were protecting. A virtuous, but stupid move in the eyes of the one who controlled the robots.
“By confronting me your mortality rate drops to 10.2 percent, gentlemen. You have been warned.”
The momentary halt of the machines was just a brief pause, as they soon, once again opened fire. He wondered how much had to be done, to whom until he could get what he wanted. It couldn’t be long, there was so many injured and killed, hundreds of thousands of dollars in private and public property. A delicate, manicured hand brushed just the slighest bit of dust from his sleeve, as if growing bored with the events of today. Finally the barrage of bullets stopped, catching his attention better than a cacaphony of bulletfire. It finally arrived.
The other man was heavily muscled, truly a fit specimen worthy of olympic gold. The broad shoulders, the square, set jaw. The tights the man wore left nothing to the imagination, clinging to his skin and colored red and black. The face was not visable, having wanted to keep his identity secret for one reason or another. The mask concealed almost all of the muscular heroes face, all but his lips and eyes… those eyes that glared with an indignant fury and insurmountable determination. It almost sent a chill down the villain’s spine, though it was not one of fear. Lips perked into a smile as all eyes turned to the one.
The people that were brave, or foolhardy enough to gather witnessed this confrontation in near silence. News hounds, thirsting for the latest story, the new excitement on the street kept the lense between the two, feeling they had nothing to fear. After all, the hero was there to save them and take the crook down to super jail. They were completely ignorant of the governmental process of villain detainment, nor would they want to know. The news just wanted the story, the whispered words of the anchor were barely audible.
“The hero, who had earlier this week had only called himself Shelter has come to put a stop to this madman’s plot. This is Jennane from GBN, Global Broadcast News, bringing it to you first, and live.”
The buisness man didn’t know the hero’s motives, and took a moment to ponder them as the people of the terrorized city took a collective sigh of relief. Was this man really a hero? Or was he just doing this for the money? Did he really wish to save these people for the sake of goodness, or was this Shelter just like himself? The look in his eyes… there was no doubt about it. This man truly wished to help, to save the ‘innocent’. This was reflected from the sincerity from his words.
“You murdering coward! I’m taking you in!”
It was just like he imagined it. So stoic, wanting to keep the people who could not defend themselves safe. Angry from the destruction he’d caused, blood boiling. It was almost like an orchestra of emotion for the man behind the machines, but what kind of performance, especially live, could there be without music? The robots had paused, even when there was no uttered command to do so, and in the same fashion they quickly beaded in their targets…
“.98 seconds…”
And fired at Shelter, a seemingly impossible feat… but all that was there to show for the remarkable aim and reaction time of the machines were a scattered potholes, each had even aimed at separate kill zones in case he had tried to dodge, but the man had done so anyhow. The business man only assumed that Shelter did not immediately go after himself, seeing the robots as the biggest threat. The powerful, flesh body of the hero crashed into the machine’s. Steel against flesh, the obvious victor should have been the hard, cold metal… but not today. The concrete under the two encaved slightly under their impact and combined weight, a fist rose to the air, and soon collided into the visor of the droid, since it lacked a head of any kind. With the screech of bent, and broken metal filling the air, the robot beneath him grew still.
“.50 seconds…”
The man moved from the conflict, even though he could feel the eyes of the hero on him. A distraction that allowed the robots to once more, get a sight on him. Shelter weaved in front of one of the droids, hoisting him as a baby lifts a rattle, the laser shots colliding with the robot. Though it did not pierce the reinforced steel, it burnt holes and heated the metal. The robot dripped slag at a slow rate, but it was enough to damage it’s internal circuits. Shelter could withstand the heat, but flung the ruined machine against one of it’s mechanized comrade’s. The sound of the impact was more akin to that of a high speed car crash, and soon there was only half a battalion left. The people were eating this up, after all, they were saved now, there was no need to fear at all.
“Those were quite expensive. Not the best that I have though.” A snide, calm voice came from the Business man. He almost blended in with the normal people, though the sheer malice in his voice set him apart from the masses easily. The other robots halted once more, as the man had seen enough of the man’s capabilities. Rubbing his wrist gingerly, he looked right to shelter… and rose his hand just in time to watch the strong hero stop in his tracks, just shy of colliding into him. The look of shock on Shelter’s face made the entire trip to the city, the cost of the robots, the time to plan all of this completely worth it. It was not fear, at least, not yet. Surprise? Definitely, maybe questioning as well. The simple answer was apparent. His hands were out of view because of his robotic henchmen, and they were not of biggest notice. When someone looked at them though, they could see plainly that they were adorned with a metallic sheen, somewhat bulky gloved gauntlets.
“Wondering why? The force that holds you in place is one that affects all of us. Mutant and human alike. Want to know what it is?” golden colored eyes scrutinized him as he spoke to Shelter like a child in a schoolroom. “It’s gravity.”
The business man reared thrust his palm at Shelter, a motion that would not topple buildings or shred metal. At least, not without a bit of help… All the help he needed were in the gauntlets he wore… the gravity that held the hero snapped off in a moment, and the hero would have floated away had he not stuck him… upon impact, the gauntlet flashed… and the hero shot from him like a bullet, colliding into one of the patrol cars. Once more, a harder substance bended to the flesh of the super powered being, though he did not stay down long. Upon his feet in a moment, he charged the man in the suit once more, though he was being much more careful about it this time around. He had underestimated the man, wanting to tackle and apprehend him alive. It was plain to the hero that he would have to use more than a little bit of force. Expertly, he swung out of reach of the hand that had paralyzed him once he closed ground, and with a grunt of strain, threw a devastating punch to the face of the villain. And in a simple sway, the man avoided the blow. Barely moving in the least… it was this small pocket as the fist flung through the air, almost touching the man’s cheek that the man in the suit made his move. Gravity once more locked the hero firmly in place, the gauntlet could be heard, whirring with power, air hissing from the insidious device.
He may have not the strength on his own, but his mind could provide all that he needed. He cruelly thrust his fist into the hero’s stomach, the sickening sound of flesh being attacked was as loud as thunder… the glove had not used brute strength, but it’s own abilities to thrust eighty tons worth of concentrated, pressurized air into the midsection of the valiant one. Unfortunate for him, his body had no give, forcing him to remain still and absorb the entire impact. Blood dribbled down his lips, silent though he needed to scream. Despite the pain, there was a thought on Shelter’s mind, one that the villain, with a sadistic smile entertained. It wasn’t a dumb question, after all.
“It takes you .23 seconds to throw a punch with the height advantage… I merely extrapolated the time, and reacted faster with my gleaned knowledge.” The same punch sounded off, the crowd was now silent, no longer secure in their illusion of safety. “Shelter, was it? Your organs...?” He leaned in close, lips almost brushing against the hero’s ear, though it was not visible in through his tights. “Are ruptured... Your ribs… broken.”
Once more, the fist thrust against the hero savagely, though the gravity no longer held him… rather, it flung him straight into the air, Shelter could only cough up the blood that dribbled down his chin. He did not get much time to do that either. He had been without gravity from the punch, launching him hundreds of feet into air in a matter of seconds… only for the cruel force tugged him once more. There was no air drag to assist him, his body affected by the villains self made gravitational pull. Freefall skydivers would be envious as his terminal velocity was reached instantly. A quick fall, even when it clocked at 300 MPH… it was merely seconds, though it would not seem so to the hero. It was over before he even hit the ground. The fist gripped into a small, gray hammer, a weapon in which to destroy not only the body of the hero, but it’s dignity as well.
There was a crack as the punch landed upon his jaw, it could have twisted his head almost completely around like some slapstick cartoon, but again he was forced to take it completely still, the impact of the blow spreading throughout his entire head. Shelter was lucky to have the ability to take in so much punishment, as he surely would have died, even if that didn’t exactly help him in the long run. The hero was still forced to absorb the landing from the free fall, laying motionless in the broken concrete.
“5.56 seconds.”
He said triumphantly, his hands were thrust down to his side, his feet not touching the ground, so he wouldn’t have to feel the impact on the ground. Though soon he was lowered, only so the cold metal hand could grip the short, sandy hair that had been exposed to during the beating, the gauntlets hid the somewhat dainty fingers as he yanked the head free from the ground, once more lips pressed close to his ear, intimate words for the one he had shared such a wonderful afternoon with.
“You’ll be lucky if you can talk again without assistance… much less go to the bathroom or even make love. Your super abilities… your, X-GENE means NOTHING… Swift analyses, Accurate judgment, and superb powers of concentration. That is what beat you… Homo Superior” A twisted smile decorated his face, thoroughly enjoying this. The people began to move away, knowing that their hero did not meet the grade this time… but they were still ignorant enough to think that they were completely safe. They were just going to hide behind some other freak.
“You are permanently crippled.” He callously let go of the head, turning to the remaining robots, even the ones that were destroyed… and in an instant they seemed to melt away, the air filling with nanomachines barely the size of a pin head. With but a thought, they all launched themselves into the buildings around, burrowing deep inside of the very make of the structures. Brushing a gloved hand through his short brown hair, he gave the frightened citizens a smile, almost tempted to bow after such a performance. Of course, they weren’t clapping, but he’d give them an encore anyhow. He wouldn’t be around for it though… and with that thought and a silent flash of light, he was gone as well.
The nanobots, though out of sight and mind, made themselves known, as they all simultaneously detonated with surprising effect. The stone sprayed from the blast, showering the unwitting citizens with debris… and though there was no fire to their explosion, the sheer impact ruptured the gas lines, the very source that fed life into the homes and businesses, soon burst, streaking the sky with glorious flame and roasting the unfortunates. Those safe and in their homes, watching the news could only stare in awe as the destruction unfolded before them, their jaws still hanging as the live feed was suddenly cut off, also interrupting the screams of terror, more specifically, the scream of Jeannae.
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Post by Bloody Vicious and Pitbull on Nov 14, 2007 1:44:58 GMT -5
IT... IS a DOOZY Character's Real Name: Thaddious Gone Superhero/villian Name: None Gender: Male Age:Classfied Occupation: Classified, to all but higher ups in the government. Files would go to show that he is a national, perhaps even Global threat. Powers and Abilities: Photographic memory, Extremely intelligent, intuitive and perceptive. A veritable genius in multiple fields with Power Gained by: Those who come across his government file would see that this is under serious debate. There has been no DNA evidence to say that he is or is not a mutant… since no one has ever gotten one from him. He does state that he hates mutants, that he wants to see them humiliated and battered before him. Weaknesses: He is extremely eccentric, which could definitely be his downfall. Though he is dangerous even if he is unarmed, he can die just like any other human. Appearance: He looks like any average human. Caucasion male with no strong side from any ethnic group, his hair is short but unkempt since it does not occupy his thoughts often. He only dresses in the best finery. History: Before he became a menace is a mystery to many, as Thaddius Gone did all he could to have any trace of his existence destroyed once he realized his ambitions. What is known is that he is quite wealthy. Whether he is the head of a multi-billion dollar conglomerate, or is a heavy player in the drug trafficking game is undecided, but it is likely that he has his fingers in as many money making stews as possible, as it is obvious he has the money to spare. While no one knows this save himself, he grew up a rather gifted child. A perfectly healthy little boy, but with the only health problem he had was his own mind. Even at a young age, he could break down the mathematical equations to even the simplest thing… such as how fast a glass of milk spills its contents when it is suddenly tipped, breaking such things down to the milliseconds. Most questions he was given, he could respond almost immediately with the answer… the most disturbing thing was that he should not have even known the mechanics of math… Or that his Father had once, at the age of six stole a box of crayons and blamed it on the kid who sat in front of him on the bus. It did not take long for the child to realize that he had a inherited knowledge, memories of his forefathers. At the age of six, he knew everything that his Father knew, and his Father’s Father, and son on and so forth. Though most of it was useless memories, things that interfered with his own identity, it also granted him with decades of experience before his time. He had to update his information from the older ones, as time had changed, theories were proven wrong… but the knowledge was still there. The problem came in knowing too much, seeing everything as the numbers that made them up. He began to time everything, to break everything down into a measurable sense. It became mechanic, automatic… and that’s when things took a turn for the worst. He slowly lost his sanity, as time slowed to a crawl for him. While many may have seen it as a gift, a blessing unlike any other… to be able to predict, and act before another even got to step one in the process… but that was not the case for Thaddious Gone. While he would have been intelligent without the genetic memory, his own natural cunning allowed him to see that he could benefit greatly from this. He kept his ability a secret, his intelligence was well hidden in the midst of mediocrity… and how he loved it. Humans, himself included, as he wouldn’t entertain the thought of being a mutant were one great machination. There were a few more important cogs than the others, but they all needed one another. The numbers were there, all of them. It was so simple to see, that no matter what time they were in, no matter what society they were a part of, the people… the rank and file, the NORMAL ones would always be a nessecity. Of course, people like himself were to be served by these other people, these beings that he soon felt were born to be below him. He soon began to think, even before reaching puberty that he was superior to everyone else. His entire family had given him the advantage, almost all of the male line had been great, thinking men… and all of their combined knowledge was brought onto him, of course for one purpose. To make this great, human machine run better than it already was. Of course, he needed funding and that was easy enough to do, even at a young age. Intelligence was still intelligence. At the age of seventeen he used a figurehead, a man to represent himself in order to gain influence in a pharmaceutical company… and quickly climbed the company ladder, becoming the second only to the owner himself in span of two years. Of course, at that time he no longer needed his puppet, and at that point, he disposed of him… and eventually, disposed of the head of the company as well. There were much, much bigger plans to be made, much more to deal than traffic and medicines. That was when he got into the heavier deals. Military arrangements, whoever was willing to buy from him would find the supplies they needed at a low price, though each time he always gleaned as much information as possible from each person whom bought from him. Each time, it was as step closer to his goal. It was not long before he himself began to exploit his intelligence. After all, while he was still smart, there was always more to learn. The bits of information he got were used, stored in his mind. Technology that he had stolen the blueprints from were soon altered into almost irrecognizable forms, changed to become more efficient as they should be. He saw the flaws, and while he knew that he could not fix all of them, he could fix the ones that mattered most. The more tinkering he did, the more he learned, the more he learned, the less he needed from others. Soon he was creating his own designs, and simultaneously destroying any sort of information that proved and validated his existence. It would be so much easier to work off of the grid, after all. It was a slow, meticulous process to do so under the nose of the government, as he soon learned that an organization called S.H.I.E.L.D actually existed. Weapon X and a plethora of others were much more obvious, but S.H.I.E.L.D was a huge threat to his ambitions. Always tip toeing around SHIELD, making sure never to cross wires with them until he was ready. Relocating himself to a different base of operations, not wanting his source of money to be comprised should he be found out, he worked from there, inventing the many things he would need to implement his plan. It took years, years in which seconds dragged on like minutes, minutes like hours, and hours like days. He was finally ready… with six robots, an assault platoon, plenty to be left behind in his base of operations… he was ready to make his first move on the first threat. Mutant kind. Other Information: I’m keeping a lot of his stuff vague, since I want to reveal this to GMs so I don’t get a bunch of Girlscout heroes knocking on my door, asking if I want either a Chocolate Chip, Thin Mint, or JUSTICE cookies. RP Sample: (If this profile is accepted, then this is going to be my first post anyhow.) The mechanized squadron stormed the packed streets, their seemingly fragile design belied a terrible strength. Their metallic sheen reflected the high noon sun, an insufficent warning of their coming. The design was not a pretty one, their legs seemingly simple mechanisms, along with their arms and even their torso. From an engineering standpoint, it would look as if it would be impossible for them to even operate, but they certainly did. Their robotic hands clenched their rifles, firing thin red lasers from the tip, scorching the air with numerous shots. Most were smart enough to get out of the way, those that were not fell to the ground… if they were fortunate, they would need to be hospitalized. Those unfortuante, would leave the hopstial right out the back door. The red gleam from the visor of the machines gave them an intimidating glare, fearless in their march. Even as the crack of firearms sounded off, a drumroll of hope provided by the police department, it proved useless. The bullets bounced off of the robots, but drew their ire. Their aims were set not on the police men, but the cars they foolishly hided behind. The man who walked in the middle of the phalanx of six droids looked almost serene, arms tucked behind his back. He was attired in a business suit, as if he was having a black tie dinner with collegues. Black from neck to toe, his dress boots were free from dirt, his clothes looking as if they had just come from the dry cleaners. ‘Requesting backup! I repeat… Requesting Backup! We have an 873 red! I repeat, a Super powered men-“ The entire report never made it to the station, as the presicion lasers burned through the car, soon igniting it into a fireball. The man did not care whether or not the policeman had lived or died. That was not the purpose, the goal of his venture to the city. Still, more and more police were coming to aid the city they were protecting. A virtuous, but stupid move in the eyes of the one who controlled the robots. “By confronting me your mortality rate drops to 10.2 percent, gentlemen. You have been warned.” The momentary halt of the machines was just a brief pause, as they soon, once again opened fire. He wondered how much had to be done, to whom until he could get what he wanted. It couldn’t be long, there was so many injured and killed, hundreds of thousands of dollars in private and public property. A delicate, manicured hand brushed just the slighest bit of dust from his sleeve, as if growing bored with the events of today. Finally the barrage of bullets stopped, catching his attention better than a cacaphony of bulletfire. It finally arrived. The other man was heavily muscled, truly a fit specimen worthy of olympic gold. The broad shoulders, the square, set jaw. The tights the man wore left nothing to the imagination, clinging to his skin and colored red and black. The face was not visable, having wanted to keep his identity secret for one reason or another. The mask concealed almost all of the muscular heroes face, all but his lips and eyes… those eyes that glared with an indignant fury and insurmountable determination. It almost sent a chill down the villain’s spine, though it was not one of fear. Lips perked into a smile as all eyes turned to the one. The people that were brave, or foolhardy enough to gather witnessed this confrontation in near silence. News hounds, thirsting for the latest story, the new excitement on the street kept the lense between the two, feeling they had nothing to fear. After all, the hero was there to save them and take the crook down to super jail. They were completely ignorant of the governmental process of villain detainment, nor would they want to know. The news just wanted the story, the whispered words of the anchor were barely audible. “The hero, who had earlier this week had only called himself Shelter has come to put a stop to this madman’s plot. This is Jennane from GBN, Global Broadcast News, bringing it to you first, and live.” The buisness man didn’t know the hero’s motives, and took a moment to ponder them as the people of the terrorized city took a collective sigh of relief. Was this man really a hero? Or was he just doing this for the money? Did he really wish to save these people for the sake of goodness, or was this Shelter just like himself? The look in his eyes… there was no doubt about it. This man truly wished to help, to save the ‘innocent’. This was reflected from the sincerity from his words. “You murdering coward! I’m taking you in!” It was just like he imagined it. So stoic, wanting to keep the people who could not defend themselves safe. Angry from the destruction he’d caused, blood boiling. It was almost like an orchestra of emotion for the man behind the machines, but what kind of performance, especially live, could there be without music? The robots had paused, even when there was no uttered command to do so, and in the same fashion they quickly beaded in their targets… “.98 seconds…” And fired at Shelter, a seemingly impossible feat… but all that was there to show for the remarkable aim and reaction time of the machines were a scattered potholes, each had even aimed at separate kill zones in case he had tried to dodge, but the man had done so anyhow. The business man only assumed that Shelter did not immediately go after himself, seeing the robots as the biggest threat. The powerful, flesh body of the hero crashed into the machine’s. Steel against flesh, the obvious victor should have been the hard, cold metal… but not today. The concrete under the two encaved slightly under their impact and combined weight, a fist rose to the air, and soon collided into the visor of the droid, since it lacked a head of any kind. With the screech of bent, and broken metal filling the air, the robot beneath him grew still. “.50 seconds…” The man moved from the conflict, even though he could feel the eyes of the hero on him. A distraction that allowed the robots to once more, get a sight on him. Shelter weaved in front of one of the droids, hoisting him as a baby lifts a rattle, the laser shots colliding with the robot. Though it did not pierce the reinforced steel, it burnt holes and heated the metal. The robot dripped slag at a slow rate, but it was enough to damage it’s internal circuits. Shelter could withstand the heat, but flung the ruined machine against one of it’s mechanized comrade’s. The sound of the impact was more akin to that of a high speed car crash, and soon there was only half a battalion left. The people were eating this up, after all, they were saved now, there was no need to fear at all. “Those were quite expensive. Not the best that I have though.” A snide, calm voice came from the Business man. He almost blended in with the normal people, though the sheer malice in his voice set him apart from the masses easily. The other robots halted once more, as the man had seen enough of the man’s capabilities. Rubbing his wrist gingerly, he looked right to shelter… and rose his hand just in time to watch the strong hero stop in his tracks, just shy of colliding into him. The look of shock on Shelter’s face made the entire trip to the city, the cost of the robots, the time to plan all of this completely worth it. It was not fear, at least, not yet. Surprise? Definitely, maybe questioning as well. The simple answer was apparent. His hands were out of view because of his robotic henchmen, and they were not of biggest notice. When someone looked at them though, they could see plainly that they were adorned with a metallic sheen, somewhat bulky gloved gauntlets. “Wondering why? The force that holds you in place is one that affects all of us. Mutant and human alike. Want to know what it is?” golden colored eyes scrutinized him as he spoke to Shelter like a child in a schoolroom. “It’s gravity.” The business man reared thrust his palm at Shelter, a motion that would not topple buildings or shred metal. At least, not without a bit of help… All the help he needed were in the gauntlets he wore… the gravity that held the hero snapped off in a moment, and the hero would have floated away had he not stuck him… upon impact, the gauntlet flashed… and the hero shot from him like a bullet, colliding into one of the patrol cars. Once more, a harder substance bended to the flesh of the super powered being, though he did not stay down long. Upon his feet in a moment, he charged the man in the suit once more, though he was being much more careful about it this time around. He had underestimated the man, wanting to tackle and apprehend him alive. It was plain to the hero that he would have to use more than a little bit of force. Expertly, he swung out of reach of the hand that had paralyzed him once he closed ground, and with a grunt of strain, threw a devastating punch to the face of the villain. And in a simple sway, the man avoided the blow. Barely moving in the least… it was this small pocket as the fist flung through the air, almost touching the man’s cheek that the man in the suit made his move. Gravity once more locked the hero firmly in place, the gauntlet could be heard, whirring with power, air hissing from the insidious device. He may have not the strength on his own, but his mind could provide all that he needed. He cruelly thrust his fist into the hero’s stomach, the sickening sound of flesh being attacked was as loud as thunder… the glove had not used brute strength, but it’s own abilities to thrust eighty tons worth of concentrated, pressurized air into the midsection of the valiant one. Unfortunate for him, his body had no give, forcing him to remain still and absorb the entire impact. Blood dribbled down his lips, silent though he needed to scream. Despite the pain, there was a thought on Shelter’s mind, one that the villain, with a sadistic smile entertained. It wasn’t a dumb question, after all. “It takes you .23 seconds to throw a punch with the height advantage… I merely extrapolated the time, and reacted faster with my gleaned knowledge.” The same punch sounded off, the crowd was now silent, no longer secure in their illusion of safety. “Shelter, was it? Your organs...?” He leaned in close, lips almost brushing against the hero’s ear, though it was not visible in through his tights. “Are ruptured... Your ribs… broken.” Once more, the fist thrust against the hero savagely, though the gravity no longer held him… rather, it flung him straight into the air, Shelter could only cough up the blood that dribbled down his chin. He did not get much time to do that either. He had been without gravity from the punch, launching him hundreds of feet into air in a matter of seconds… only for the cruel force tugged him once more. There was no air drag to assist him, his body affected by the villains self made gravitational pull. Freefall skydivers would be envious as his terminal velocity was reached instantly. A quick fall, even when it clocked at 300 MPH… it was merely seconds, though it would not seem so to the hero. It was over before he even hit the ground. The fist gripped into a small, gray hammer, a weapon in which to destroy not only the body of the hero, but it’s dignity as well. There was a crack as the punch landed upon his jaw, it could have twisted his head almost completely around like some slapstick cartoon, but again he was forced to take it completely still, the impact of the blow spreading throughout his entire head. Shelter was lucky to have the ability to take in so much punishment, as he surely would have died, even if that didn’t exactly help him in the long run. The hero was still forced to absorb the landing from the free fall, laying motionless in the broken concrete. “5.56 seconds.” He said triumphantly, his hands were thrust down to his side, his feet not touching the ground, so he wouldn’t have to feel the impact on the ground. Though soon he was lowered, only so the cold metal hand could grip the short, sandy hair that had been exposed to during the beating, the gauntlets hid the somewhat dainty fingers as he yanked the head free from the ground, once more lips pressed close to his ear, intimate words for the one he had shared such a wonderful afternoon with. “You’ll be lucky if you can talk again without assistance… much less go to the bathroom or even make love. Your super abilities… your, X-GENE means NOTHING… Swift analyses, Accurate judgment, and superb powers of concentration. That is what beat you… Homo Superior” A twisted smile decorated his face, thoroughly enjoying this. The people began to move away, knowing that their hero did not meet the grade this time… but they were still ignorant enough to think that they were completely safe. They were just going to hide behind some other freak. “You are permanently crippled.” He callously let go of the head, turning to the remaining robots, even the ones that were destroyed… and in an instant they seemed to melt away, the air filling with nanomachines barely the size of a pin head. With but a thought, they all launched themselves into the buildings around, burrowing deep inside of the very make of the structures. Brushing a gloved hand through his short brown hair, he gave the frightened citizens a smile, almost tempted to bow after such a performance. Of course, they weren’t clapping, but he’d give them an encore anyhow. He wouldn’t be around for it though… and with that thought and a silent flash of light, he was gone as well. The nanobots, though out of sight and mind, made themselves known, as they all simultaneously detonated with surprising effect. The stone sprayed from the blast, showering the unwitting citizens with debris… and though there was no fire to their explosion, the sheer impact ruptured the gas lines, the very source that fed life into the homes and businesses, soon burst, streaking the sky with glorious flame and roasting the unfortunates. Those safe and in their homes, watching the news could only stare in awe as the destruction unfolded before them, their jaws still hanging as the live feed was suddenly cut off, also interrupting the screams of terror, more specifically, the scream of Jeannae. A little long... but we need more villains. Approved for now, but you may have to talk to Nick Fury when he gets back.
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Post by dagger on Nov 15, 2007 13:54:03 GMT -5
I'm mainly going to be using this character for what-ifs. I can change this if you have any suggestions.
Character's Real Name: Kiran Bowen Superhero/villain Name: Ember
Gender: Male Age: 18 Occupation: College student. Majoring in history.
Powers and Abilities (if any): Ember's powers are to fire bolts of red-gold light from his hands. Pure light until it hits an object, it becomes a fiery explosion. On non-living objects this is a useful destructive power. On living creatures it becomes lethal and tragic.
Power Gained by (if any power): Mutant power.
Weaknesses: Has to have self-control and precision when using his powers because bad aim could kill someone.
He also has a personal flaw that he is very arrogant and proud. He likes to interrupt people so he can hear himself talk.
Appearance: Tan skin, bright blue eyes and a large afro. He likes dressing fashionably and slightly history-professor look.
History: The son of Tandy Bowen, Ember gained a variation of his mother's powers but instead of a healing effect, Ember's fire-bolts kill people if they detect darkness. And since darkness is in every being, he is extremely hesitant to use his powers.
Raised by a young single mother who was often flighty and immature, Ember often considered himself the adult in the house. This arrogance translated to the rest of his life.
He feels he has the right to tell people how to live because people are genuinely stupid and evil. Not really a hero and not completely a villain, Ember is mostly selfish and irritating.
Other Information:
RP Sample:
Ember opened the door for another student. He noticed she had too much mascara on and was tempted to call her on it. But it was his first week in college...
"Excuse me, Ma'am?" He tapped her shoulder. "That is too much, way to much make-up. I believe you'll find that if you limit it to a subtle hint of mascara then-"
The girl made a rude sound of disbelief and jerked away.
The campus rocked. The brick buildings jostled and a plume of smoke raced past. Crazy cackling and a bright green costume zipped ahead of it.
Ember raced forward. He flickered his fingers, calling the ruddy glow to his hands. Releasing the crimson bolts, he watched them shoot dagger straight toward the villain's glider.
They hit and the glider went up in smoke. Glittering shards of metallic debris tumbled to the clean campus grounds.
Ember picked up his books and started to head to his next class.
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Post by Iron Man/Tony Stark on Nov 17, 2007 7:15:50 GMT -5
Approved ~ Colonel Nick Fury/Iron Man/Carnage
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Post by bloodonthewall on Nov 28, 2007 21:48:35 GMT -5
Character's Real Name: Thomas Starr IV Superhero/villian Name: Shooting Star Gender: Male Age: 15 Occupation: Hero/Student Powers and Abilities (if any): Flight of up to 70 miles per hour, Super strength of lifting object smaller than a Mack truck but wont dare life anything larger than a 5 seater car, can create plasma balls that look like blue flames to throw at his enemies and can emit sonic waves that cause destruction and devastation. Power Gained by (if any power): Mutation Weaknesses: frightened of fire and will freak out at the site of it, not good at hand to hand combat. Appearance: History: Thomas was born in Ireland into his messed up family, his mother was a teacher and his father was a doctor. They had jobs that cause kids to look up to them, but at home they grew pot in the basement. When Thomas was 12 the police came to the house to arrest his parents, but they weren't going without a fight. The cops shot them, thats when Thomas found out his powers he got pissed and waked out into the the kitchen where they were. He emitted a sonic wave that tossed the cops back and flipped a table. Then he ran outside to hide under a car, but it was to close to the ground so he started to lift and easily picked it up. Tom grinned and tossed the car into the house, then he looked up and was now rising into the air. he flew forward and let out a powerful wave that destroyed the house then laughing he flew down the street while emitting the sonic wave causing all the houses on the street to become destroyed. Scared and now alone he flew to his grandparents house. He walked in crying and called "Help! Granma' Granpa' are you home?" his grandfather ran downstairs and said "Thomas, what is wrong boy?" He replied saying "Granpa' ma' and da' they're dead, the pigs found out bout the garden...and I," he slowly rose into the air His Grandfather smiled and said "Oh me boy! Stay right ere i got someone for ya to meet." Tom was confused now, his grandfather walked over to the basement door and opened it then called "Oy! Mitchell! (pronounced: Mitch heel) Come up ere I got a surprise for ya." There was a noise of foot steps then out of the doorway was a boy who looked about 15. This boy looked at Thomas and said "Its you, you bastard!" his angry eyes were glaring at tom and he walked closer. "Its your fault! They loved you more!" this boy Mitchell was slowly catching fire starting a this feet and slowly working its way up. "Our parents loved you more! You filthy wanker. I'll kill you." the fire covered him but he didnt do anything until he yelled out "I call upon the powers of the Daemons! Grant me the power of the Daemonomanian" Mitchell transformed into a large red daemon The Daemonomanian, a Daemon from the deepest pits of hell. This creature will take a host who will be given an ultimate power. There is only one host chosen every hundred years, if the host lives with the Daemonomanian for more than one-hundred years he is killed and his soul is cast into hell. The current host is a boy named Mitchell Starr. The powers of the Daemonomanian scared this boys parents, forcing him to leave the house and live with his grandparents who thought it was a wonderful gift. Now this boy has called upon the powers of the Daemonomanian because he has found his younger brother who was always loved more by there parents. Mitchell never liked him and was now seeking his revenge. Mitchell Created fireballs that he threw at Thomas but they were deflected by his sonic wall that also destroyed some shelves and the deflected fireballs set the house on fire. Now Mitchell was angry he charged at Thomas with his head down aiming his horns a him so he could impale his brother, but Thomas put his hands in front of his face shooting out two plasma blasts causing Mitchell to move his head down more and ram Tom. So Tom was just struck threw the wall landing in the yard of the house beside his Grandparents, he hit the wall and fell to the ground. Mitchell screamed you will die!" Then charged again. Now Thomas knew about his plasma powers and he thrust his hands forward toward Mitchell unleashing a lard plasma blast blowing Mitchell backward into the house hitting a support beam that cause the upper story to cave in on him. It had only been a 2 minute battle and the house was burning down. Now it was one raging inferno. Thomas ran inside to save his grandparents but it was to late they were dead. He now had to escape, but the house was collapsing around him and he started freaking out. There was now way he could escape, so he just flew upward. This worked sort of. then he noticed his clothes were burning. Once again he flipped out and fell from the sky and got second degree burns. Thomas then flew to an island far west of Ireland here he taught himself how to control his powers. He practiced for 3 years until he perfected his powers, then he traveled to New York. What happened to Mitchell? He still is possessed by the Daemonomanian and searching for Thomas. Other Information: Thomas Doesn't trust the police RP Sample: Thomas was walking down the street. He noticed a coffee shop that looked good. He walked in ordered a coffee and sat at a table once he got it. Tom had his laptop with him so he opened it and looked through the files he had that he was going to take to the Baxter Building and have looked at to see if they could make a cure for him of his powers with an exception of flying. So far he had only learned that his DNA was different than normal humans. There were 5 different types of DNA in his system, one for each power. Once Thomas finished his coffee and turned off his laptop then stood up throwing away his cup with his laptop under his arm. He walked out then up to a person and asked "Excuse me but do you know where the Baxter Building is." The person looked at him a second and said "I dunno but how about you ask that police officer over there he might know" Tom said "Ok thanks" then walked off mumbling to himself "I'm not gunna ask a stinkin' pig."
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Post by redwillow on Dec 4, 2007 11:33:12 GMT -5
Character's Real Name:Will Smith Superhero Name: The Dragon Civilian Name: Will Admiry
Gender:Male Age:28 Occupation: He works at an antique store making medieval type armor and weapons.
Powers and Abilities: Has strength rivaled by no one not even The Hulk or Juggernaut, super speed, and nearly indestructible.
Power Gained by : He is an alien from a planet called Onyx where the gravity is a 1,000 times that of earths.
Weaknesses: He is weak to the stone called Onyx just like Superman is weak to Kryptonite. So it can weaken him and even kill him.
Appearance: Height-6'0" Weight-240 lbs Hair-Brownish Red Eyes-Brown Features-Appears to be very muscular(perhaps from forging all the time), but has a kind and gentle face.
History: He was sent out from his planet to destroy the Earth when he was old enough, but when he got to Earth his shuttle crash landed and his memory was affected(amnesia). So he lives his life as an average man that likes to forge for a living. He was raised by two loving parents that could not have children themselves.
Other Information:He will always try to save everyone he can no matter what the cost, Even his own life. He was also mortally wounded in a battle against an unknown villain that he thinks might have come from his own planet.
RP Sample: One day while working on make a brilliant shield that Will was very proud of, heard a commotion outside. While going to investigate he saw his arch rival. As fast as he could he raced over to help the city that was quickly being destroyed by this unknown villain. Upon arrival he realized that this villain had destroyed a good part of the city. Will quickly changed into his costume of The Dragon and went out to fight this foe.
The Villain, seeing The Dragon was coming, laughs ans says "So you've finally come out of hiding have you. Now the fun really begins." Dragon Knows that this will be a dangerous battle for the city if he stays here so he provokes this villain into leaving the city by saying "if you want me that bad than follow me." as he slowly starts leaving the city making sure he is being followed. Outside the city The Dragon battles this unknown Villain Ducking left, swinging right dodging right, swinging left. As the battle wears on for what seems like hours to Dragon is only actually minutes. He soon realizes that they are evenly matched and if he is to beat this or even live he must outsmart him. The Dragon comes up with a plan to trap this foe in the earth, so he swing hard at him, knowing he is going to miss and at the same time hope he does, hits the ground hard enough to cause a rift in the earth big enough to have destroyed the city if he were still there. The villain mocks Dragon saying " All that effort and you missed HA!" Dragon jumps into the rift as the villain follows just as he had planned. When inside he continues fighting for a little bit knowing that the walls are going to collapse soon. When it becomes apparent that the wall are not going to collapse he strikes the wall in order to make it collapse. Rocks the size of houses start falling every where and The Dragon Starts to jump up out of the hole but gets pulled back down. He kicks off the hand holding him and jumps up out of the hole as its closes. The Dragons says " Stay their until I am strong enough to beat you." as he leaves knowing that one day he will have to fight him again. The dragon than realizes that he has a hole in the side of his chest with a piece of onyx in it. "d**n I didn't realizes there was onyx down there" as he collapses. Not waking up for several weeks in his own home with his parents smiling down at him.
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Post by Bloody Vicious and Pitbull on Dec 4, 2007 19:34:07 GMT -5
Character's Real Name:Will Smith Superhero Name: The Dragon Civilian Name: Will Admiry Gender:Male Age:28 Occupation: He works at an antique store making medieval type armor and weapons. Powers and Abilities: Has strength rivaled by no one not even The Hulk or Juggernaut, super speed, and nearly indestructible. Power Gained by : He is an alien from a planet called Onyx where the gravity is a 1,000 times that of earths. Weaknesses: He is weak to the stone called Onyx just like Superman is weak to Kryptonite. So it can weaken him and even kill him. Appearance: Height-6'0" Weight-240 lbs Hair-Brownish Red Eyes-Brown Features-Appears to be very muscular(perhaps from forging all the time), but has a kind and gentle face. History: He was sent out from his planet to destroy the Earth when he was old enough, but when he got to Earth his shuttle crash landed and his memory was affected(amnesia). So he lives his life as an average man that likes to forge for a living. He was raised by two loving parents that could not have children themselves. Other Information:He will always try to save everyone he can no matter what the cost, Even his own life. He was also mortally wounded in a battle against an unknown villain that he thinks might have come from his own planet. RP Sample: One day while working on make a brilliant shield that Will was very proud of, heard a commotion outside. While going to investigate he saw his arch rival. As fast as he could he raced over to help the city that was quickly being destroyed by this unknown villain. Upon arrival he realized that this villain had destroyed a good part of the city. Will quickly changed into his costume of The Dragon and went out to fight this foe. The Villain, seeing The Dragon was coming, laughs ans says "So you've finally come out of hiding have you. Now the fun really begins." Dragon Knows that this will be a dangerous battle for the city if he stays here so he provokes this villain into leaving the city by saying "if you want me that bad than follow me." as he slowly starts leaving the city making sure he is being followed. Outside the city The Dragon battles this unknown Villain Ducking left, swinging right dodging right, swinging left. As the battle wears on for what seems like hours to Dragon is only actually minutes. He soon realizes that they are evenly matched and if he is to beat this or even live he must outsmart him. The Dragon comes up with a plan to trap this foe in the earth, so he swing hard at him, knowing he is going to miss and at the same time hope he does, hits the ground hard enough to cause a rift in the earth big enough to have destroyed the city if he were still there. The villain mocks Dragon saying " All that effort and you missed HA!" Dragon jumps into the rift as the villain follows just as he had planned. When inside he continues fighting for a little bit knowing that the walls are going to collapse soon. When it becomes apparent that the wall are not going to collapse he strikes the wall in order to make it collapse. Rocks the size of houses start falling every where and The Dragon Starts to jump up out of the hole but gets pulled back down. He kicks off the hand holding him and jumps up out of the hole as its closes. The Dragons says " Stay their until I am strong enough to beat you." as he leaves knowing that one day he will have to fight him again. The dragon than realizes that he has a hole in the side of his chest with a piece of onyx in it. "d**n I didn't realizes there was onyx down there" as he collapses. Not waking up for several weeks in his own home with his parents smiling down at him. I am afraid I am going to have to deny this. PM me if you want further details as to why.
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Post by Frost on Dec 7, 2007 23:25:19 GMT -5
x anastasiawillisFROST Character's Real Name; Anastasia Rose Willis Villain Name; "Frost"
Gender; Female Age; 25 years Occupation; Mercenary
Powers && Abilities;
AIM - Frost has absolutely incredible aim with a gun. Though it's no special power and is certainly not 100% perfect, it is unbelievable to most just how accurate her aim really is.
ICE - This is her main power. It's what gives her her name. When her body temperate is low enough(please note that she can control this), Frost can create a dramatic temperature drop in the space between her and her victim, and also create frost that creeps at a semi-slow rate from where she stands towards whoever is unforunate enough to be her target. Though the creeping of the frost is slow, Frost herself often performs this attack on her victims while cornering them somehow, so they don't have much of a chance at escaping. Once the frost gets to the victim, their own body temperature drops dramatically and they eventually freeze into something like an ice sculpture if they still have no way of escaping it.
TEMP. - Frost can manipulate her body temperature without harming her health in any way. Her body temperature can range from one that can send an immediate cold, stinging sensation to the touch to one that can feel alarmingly hot, although she usually keeps her temperature low and very seldom increases it. Please note that she can change her appearance to a certain extent through her body temperature. Powers Gained By; Frost's family was all too familiar with mutations. All on her father's side, powers ranging as pyrokinesis to climate control popped up. Anastasia Rose Willis was certainly not the first to gain these powers in her family, but she was the only one who ever truly learned how to put them to noticably powerful use.
Weaknesses; There are too many to list. Though Frost does have powers that make her a stronger opponent, she has none that give her any more defense than the average human. If she were to be thrown a sharp, unexpected punch, she'd fall just as quick and hard as anyone.
Appearance; In a brief description, Frost can be described as a deathly though somehow beautifully pale (almost blue-skinned) young woman with hypnotizing light blue eyes and off-white hair. Her appearance changes when she warms up to a woman of a more normal complexion with a head of bright red or red-tinted hair. This appearance is usually what she's seen with while walking about the city, while she takes the form of her true, paler self when committing her sinful acts of murder for the gain of her random employers' money. Portrayed by Jessica Stam Pictured in Signature
History; Way back, when Frost was more commonly known as Anastasia Rose Willis, she lived in a well-off family in New York City. Her mother was a successful model, while her father was an elusive writer determined to make a name for himself in the world. While she recieved her parents' affection in the form of material things, she rarely even saw her father and what little attention she got from her mother was hardly ever loving, but more... acknowledging. Of course, simple acknowledgement from her mother was all she could ask for, because it was all she had ever recieved and all she had ever known, save the unending supply of meaningless gifts that found no place in her life but in her large closet.
As she grew, so did the jealousy in young Anastasia that had been born from the sight of parents hugging and kissing their children, and laughing with them. She, herself, had never felt happy enough around her parents to even give a grin, much less burst out in a fit of laughter. But... for some odd reason... she longed to. This relentless desire for love and true affection grew until it eventually began to drive her mad.
Anastasia went through her years spending the majority of her time sulking in her room, or practicing the "gift" she had discovered she posessed as a very young child. These powers were not uncommon in her family, and since there was nothing serious to worry about, Anastasia's parents didn't give a thought about her rapidly developing powers. However, the more she practiced, the more destructive her mind became. She began freezing all the toys her parents had ever bought for her, and destruction soon became her greatest obsession.
When Anastasia finished her years of education (in which she had little trouble hiding her abnormalities) and became an adult, the craving for attention became stronger once more. Longing for an affectionate male figure that she never had, this desire misled her to apply for a job at a stripclub and bar. Unknowing that this affection that would be given to her was hardly the kind she truly sought, the young woman was accepted as a bartender and entertainer at the facility, where she worked for two years. She suffered a massive amount of disappointment with it until finally, one day, her patience in waiting for that true feeling of love broke.
What no one knew about the innocent looking, confused seductress was that not only did she practice her mutant powers as an older child, but also her aim with handgun she had found while wandering her house when her father was away on a rare occasion. Through her teen years, she would play target practice with the countless number of stuffed animals that were piled in her closet. As an adult, this skill she had developed had become deadly.
On the day that it all happened, she had gone through her night as usual. The occasional drunkard approached her with a harrassing touch and foul words, and she dismissed them irritably. About the fifth one to approach her halfway into her shift was particularly persistent, though. He didn't leave. Instead, the blonde was faced with something she had never come in contact with, before. Carelessly, the man had pushed her into a wall, causing her to drop everything she had been carrying to a table. With many eyes upon her and her skimpily clad body over which his hands roamed, her lips were forced against his. He attempted many more unspeakable things that night, and in the midst of her humiliation and hurt, Anastasia had pulled out a firearm that no one had known about. The next and only thing the man heard after that was a loud gunshot before he fell to the ground, blood gushing from his forehead.
Needless to say, she was banned from the facility. That wasn't all, though. She knew what the punishment for her act would be if she didn't escape it. She ran from the police, and even the heroes couldn't find her. Changing her body temperature and thus her appearance as well, she kept to the streets after that, never daring to return to any place she had been before the "accident".
A short while after she had shot the man and retreated to the streets, a new desire was born within her. This one was a desire for wealth. Never had she felt this longing, for it had always been provided to her. But now... for some odd reason.. she would do anything for it. Being poor as poor could be, she couldn't be blamed, but her will to do just about anything for it wasn't normal. There was another factor. This was factor was bloodlust. There was a certain way she intented to earn the money she desired. Killing. Why? All the hatred and jealousy that had been bottled up inside her... she had felt some of it disappear when that bullet had hit the man at the club. Murder... it felt good. Why such an unforgivable deed brought such feeling was unknown to her, but she wouldn't question it much. She had a plan now.
This was the start of her career. This was how Frost came to be.
Other Information; Frost is a bit of a sharp-tongued and cold-hearted woman when it comes to men toying with her. Even so much as wrapping an arm around her waist may just get a guy a black eye if they don't move quick enough, especially in the unfortunate case that she doesn't exactly appreciate their company in the first place. Making a move on her is certainly not a good idea, period. It doesn't matter wether she likes a man or not, she believes that abstaining from sexual activity and relationships is the only way to keep away the memories of her humiliation and foolish panic from the night at the club.
Also, note that while she isn't really a super villain herself, she does help other villains with their dirty work for the right price.
RP Sample;
There she was, walking down an alley like always. Some man had been following her for the past hour, and it seemed he wanted something from her. She couldn't quite say what it was, but so far he had made it clear through his words that he had a grudge on someone. Why he was telling her this she had no idea. It would have hit her suddenly had the man been one of her previous, more well known employers. Of course, the possibility that he was going to hand her some cash and instruct her to spill some blood was lingering in her head, but perhaps this guy just needed to talk to someone. It sure sounded like it by the way he was rambling.
"...and then he turned and gave me that foul smirk of his, as if he'd accomplished something through my defeat. I've seen that smirk a thousand times when once was all too much. I can't take it anymore..." the man went on and on until finally Frost became tired of hearing his endless voice that had become a low drone in her ears.
"What are you getting at?" she asked, still not looking back at him and continuing to walk skillfully through the maze of concrete and brick, as if she knew every turn. "Why are you following me?"
"Dear, I know who you are. You haven't found out yet what I want from you?"
Frost stopped dead in her tracks. Quirking a brow, she turned to look upon him momentarily. He was looking for a murder that he didn't have to dirty his hands in, just like all the rest that had come to her for her help.
"You're a cold-hearted killer, this I know for a fact. But with whom does your loyalty lie?" he asked. His eyes momentarily scanned her figure, getting himself a harsh glare that only lasted as long as his eyes were wandering. So he obviously knew what she did, but did he know how she did it?
"With the highest bidder." she informed him with a raised a brow, a hint a smirk crossing her lips for only a moment.
The man, obviously pleased with her response by the wicked grin on his face, tossed a bag of money her way. When she picked it up with hidden eagerness, she noticed that it was incredibly light. Peering inside, she discovered wads of cash inside. Now, her smirk was more noticable and lasting. Gazing at it all for a brief time, she then looked up at him.
"Just give me his name."
[ GAH. sorry if it's not exactly up to par with everyone else's. I'm aware that my sample pretty much sucks. >.< I sliced my right middle finger and it's making it very hard to type. ]
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