SusanooNoMiko

[color=#282828][font=courier new', courier, monospace][font=georgia, serif][b]Name[/b]:[/font][/font][/color][color=#282828][font=courier new', courier, monospace][size=2] Amanda 'Yuko' Slate [/size][/font][/color] [size=2][font=courier new', courier, monospace][color=#282828][b][size=4][font=georgia, serif]Callsign:[/font][/size][/b] Ippon[/color] [color=#282828][b][size=4][font=georgia, serif]Age:[/font][/size][/b] 21[/color] [color=#282828][size=4][font=georgia, serif][b][url="http://i737.photobucket.com/albums/xx17/hermesworkshop/char.jpg"]Appearance[/url]:[/b][/font][/size] Yuko stands about 5' 9' with a lean toned frame. She has a tan complexion with amber brown shoulder length hair, usually worn up, and green eyes. Her suit as Ippon consists of a Gi made of an abnormal material. It's feather light and resists all forms of damage to some degree, including ripping, cutting, burning, etc. Underneath the Gi is a black scramble suit with constantly shifting boundaries and shadows so that no aspect of her usual appearance can be discerned. [/color] [color=#282828]Personality: Yuko is, despite her history, a usually happy and outgoing person. However, she is highly competitive and very serious when competing. She hates to loose anything and sometimes overdoes it in her quest for victory (hence her nickname â??Yukoâ? from the yuko points commonly given to her opponents from penalties for 'overzealousness'). She adheres to a strict honor code and as such is both hyper-moral and hyper-polite in her day to day life unless it is unreturned.[/color] [color=#282828]Ippon is on the other hand known as a ruthless upholder of justice. It holds life sacred and, therefore, will not kill but many of Ippon's victims wish for death over their reality. Shredded joints, broken bones, and head trauma are all deserved collateral damage to Ippon. Not much else is known about Ippon since it rarely speaks or interacts with anyone outside of missions. Ippon's work, however, is well known and like a fine timepiece, impeccable and reliable.[/color] [color=#282828][size=4][font=georgia, serif][b]Power:[/b][/font][/size] Abnormal Speed and Reflexes, A Judo Master, versed in basic strategy and espionage.[/color] [color=#282828][b][size=4][font=georgia, serif]Weapons:[/font][/size][/b] Herself, Friction Increasing Static Tension Sleeves (FISTS) : These were developed originally for factory use. When turned on they adhere to anything with great grip for lifting. Ippon uses them to create an almost inescapable grip and to grip opponents without who don't have otherwise seizable costumes. They have a limited power supply so Ippon usually reserves their use for necessary situations.[/color] [color=#282828][b][size=4][font=georgia, serif]Affiliation:[/font][/size][/b] Doom[/color] [color=#282828][b][size=4][font=georgia, serif]Short Bio:[/font][/size][/b] Yuko was born into a nice family and a plush life. Her parents, as they told Yuko, were two small time superheros and she was to take up their fight when she was ready. As such, her parents began training her at a young age in hand-to-hand combat, and basic strategy. Unfortunately the life was a lie and funded by crimes carried out by her parents. Their ways eventually caught up with them when they were murdered by Kal-El. Yuko was 10 when they died and watched them fall under Kal-El's fists. Yuko never learned of her parent's lives of crime and believes Kal-El to be a murder and a tyrant. [/color] [color=#282828] After her parents death, she was picked up by an orphan service and sent to a few temporary homes. Her rage and pain, however, consumed her and she left at age 12 to find Kal-El. Her quest was sidetracked shortly after beginning when she was confronted by a band of Jokerz. She fought as best she could, but with her minimal training there were too many. Beaten, she surrendered to her fate. But before the Jokerz could claim their prize, a citizen stepped in on her behalf. She watched, enraptured, as the Jokerz fell to the mans bizarre movements. Thug after thug hit the pavement with a sickening smack as the stranger effortlessly threw them. As her vision faded, the pain overcoming her, she watched the leader of the Jokerz pack fly up and over the mans shoulders and hit the pavement, red staining his white face almost immediately as his now blank eyes met with hers.[/color] [color=#282828] The stranger would take in Yuko, tending to her wounds and caring for her until she was well enough to do so herself. After recovering, Yuko put her quest on hold to beg the stranger to teach her his method of fighting. Eventually, she struck a deal with him. She would help around his judo dojo to pay of her debt to him and in the meantime she could sit in on his classes. As the days unfolded, she excelled at Judo. Within the first few years, she had come to teach some of the classes and was an integral part of the dojo. She had found a new purpose. At 16 that purpose grew, as the once stranger revealed that he was actually a superhero fighting for peaceful freedom from Kal-El under the judomaster mantle which he inherited through is family lineage. He extended an invitation to her to join his fight and, finding her old rage against Kal-El, she accepted. For the next 2 years she trained in espionage and tactics, which she excelled at just as she did in Judo. They began trying to undermine Kal-El and had moderate success, for a time.[/color] [color=#282828] On her 18th birthday, she would watch judomaster fall at the hands of Kal-El as he destroyed her life and the dojo. Not in costume, she was spared but her rage had resurfaced. She rebuilt the dojo and vowed to end Kal-El. From that day on, she took up the Ippon persona and fought Kal-El however she could, even working with DOOM. Although she's strayed from the path Jagger showed her, she still refuses to kill but does everything else possible to topple Kal-El.[/color][/font][/size]

[size=3][font=courier new,courier,monospace][color=#000000]1 May 2015 â??Kill him.â? The words slide from Master's contorted sneer, excitement flashing across his face. The crumpled man in front of him makes one last attempt to stand under the Master's oppressive presence but only makes it to his knees. â??P- please. My son is sick with the others. We need medicine or food.â? â??Not my problem.â? â??Take pity. The people of Phénix-â? comes an incomplete broken stammer of words from the man, the remaining words caught in the mans throat beneath Master's iron grip as he lifts him off the ground. â??Phénix?!â? â??A traveler came the other day and spoke of a city where the people feast and every family-â? The final words of the man are cut short as the master turns and, sinking his hips beneath his victim's, throws him over his body and onto the cold stone. The man's eyes begin to fade as blood slides across the stone. Master, refusing to let the man die of his own accord, pounces, placing his knee on the mans chest and grabbing his jaw with one hand as the other drives a thin knife through the mans throat and into his spinal cord. Rising off the corpse Master tosses the knife at the feet of a servant who quickly plucks it up and wipes it clean before nervously offering it back. â??Remove this carcass from my hall and turn the others outside the gates away. I am no longer in the mood for entertainment.â? Master smooths his robes and, takes the knife from the servant, slipping it back into place in his sleeve as he strides towards a large door behind his throne. Reaching the doors he slides through and shuts them tight behind him, abandoning his aides. In the study he seethes with anger, pacing around the room before tearing into the closest object. His mind races across the past few days, landing on the news of the traveler and the group he had led from the city. Master had worked to make sure the people knew he was the only hope of salvation. He couldn't break them if they had an alternative. As his fists tore through the delicate exotic wood, his rage gave way to thought. He abandoned his tantrum and slid into the chair in front of his desk. Taking a leather case from the drawer he pauses, taking a deep breath. When his eyes open they flash with murderous intent as his fingers deftly lay out his stationery set. He flips through a pile of papers plucking a few from the stack. Quickly pouring over them his free hand grabs a gold blade from the case. Having finished the reports, he tosses the papers aside and readies himself. Plucking a feather from the case he carves out a quill and examines the tip. Setting it aside he cuts into his hand, a crimson river of influence spilling into an ink-well. Wrapping his hand quickly, he scoops up the quill and dips it in the well. Working quickly to make the most of the fresh blood he begins to furiously scrawl across the empty parchment, weaving his words into an idea and imbuing them with as much influence as he can. â??Dear Rafale,â?[/color][/font][/size] [center][size=3][font=times new roman,times,serif]===[/font][/size][/center] [left][size=3][font=courier new,courier,monospace]20 April 2015[/font][/size][/left] [left][size=3][font=courier new,courier,monospace][color=#000000]Aristos hated his home town. As he passed the piles of trash his body tensed with a familiar rage. The sullen faces of children as they dig for something to eat, expending the last of their energy. A sense of guilt overcomes him as his full stomach takes on a new weight. He's only been home for a few minutes and already he wants to leave. He considers turning, scaling the wall and forgetting his mission but the desperation in the eyes of the children now noticing the new, healthy person in their midst dispels the new plan. He tries to slip away from the forming crowd but his tan skin and simple brown clothes clash vibrantly with the dirty grey reality of the outer city. He's already early but he begins to jog toward his destination knowing he has to get off the streets before his color too fades taking his resolve and hope with it. It's not long before he stands before the indistinct building marked on his map. A door slides open and two men step out. Confusion crosses their faces before they motion for the man to enter. â??Way to make an impression, Aristos.â? A figure slips from behind a cluttered table and moves to greet the visitor. â??Brother, it's been so long.â? The two men embrace for a long while before separating and sizing each other up. â??I guess mom was right. You did have one growth cycle left. You're almost as tall as me.â? â??I see you still have your sense of humor.â? â??I'm still more handsome, of course, but that can't be helped. After all, you got mothers dainty good looks.â? The two men pause and the traveler looks at the bewildered guards. â??These guards sure are sharp. What's the matter? Never seen twins before?â? â??Brother, please. You know a single child is already practically a death sentence for a mother.â? â??It's only a joke. Or perhaps those are only found in Phénix.â? â??Yes, tell me of this city. I couldn't believe the things you said in your letter. After you escaped with father things only got worse here. Now, we constantly hear that beyond the exterior walls are great horrors waiting to tear the flesh from our limbs.â? The two men sit at the table and begin to compare the two cities as Kallisto fills in Aristos on the changes since he escaped. The walls, the Master's rise to power, the hunger, the famine, the pestilence as each item comes up the air grows heavier and the joy escapes the reunion. Finally, Aristos stands and paces away from the table. â??We need to get some of these people out of here. There are many cities outside the walls where they can find homes until we have enough strength to lay siege to the inner city.â? â??I will form a group who are strong enough and show enough potential to make the journey and help you. However, first I must tend to my patients. Did you bring the things I listed?â? â??Yes, of course.â? Aristos tosses a bag to Kallisto, who empties it onto the table. Skimming over the contents he begins to pluck other items out of the clutter on the table. Opening vials, he begins to mix a salve in a small copper canister. As he stirs the liquid glows and the color leaves Kallisto's face. After a few minutes a sweet aroma fills the room and Kallisto falls into his chair. Breathing heavily, he pauses only long enough to wipe the sweat from his brow. â??Still hasn't gotten easier, eh?â? Aristos moves to help his brother stand and walk to the door separating the office from the main part of the warehouse. â??The pain is small compared to the good it brings.â? Kallisto removes his arm from around his brothers shoulder and swings the door open exposing the main floor of the warehouse. Aristos stops in the doorway his eyes widening as they take in the hundreds of filled cots that form the infirmary. â??I see it's worse than I thought. This must be the entire population of the outer city.â? â??If only. This is only one of ten such buildings. We're fighting a new sickness that came in from some wild game. It moves quickly and kills slowly, painfully and indiscriminately. But now, we have hope.â? He raises the copper container briefly before heading for a curtained off section of the warehouse. â??Yes, hope.â?[/color][/font][/size][/left] [center][font=times new roman,times,serif][color=#000000]===[/color][/font][/center] [left][size=3][font=courier new,courier,monospace][color=#000000]1 May 2015[/color][/font][/size][/left] [left][size=3][font=courier new,courier,monospace][color=#000000]â??I hope you will find my words convincing.â?[/color][/font][/size][/left] [left] [size=3][font=courier new,courier,monospace][color=#000000]The final line of the letter is etched upon the paper and Master lays down his quill. Reading over it, he smiles at his work before folding the letter and slipping it into an envelope. The ink-well runs dry as he dips the quill to write the address on the envelope. Finishing the final letters of the address, he stands and enters back into the throne room. â??Thassos, take this and give it to your most trusted courier. Also, ready the other couriers. I'll be writing many more of these in the coming days and cannot wait for each courier to return.â? â??It's done sir.â? The speaker steps forward and takes the envelope from the Master before hurrying out of the room. â??Apokteino. Double your efforts in the outer city. I want to see twice as many hopeless faces pressed against the gates tomorrow.â? â??Yes.â? A hooded aide at the back of the crowd turns and glides from the room. â??The rest of you prepare the evening feast. After such an exciting day I'm quite famished. Spare nothing from the table.â? Shutting the door again Master returns to the chair and his stationery, opening the cut on his hand again and watching the ink-well fill to the brim.[/color][/font][/size][/left]

[center][font=courier new,courier,monospace][size=3][color=#282828]Sign Up[/color] [color=#282828]Name: Adam Cicero Narcissus I[/color] [color=#282828]Codename: Master[/color] [color=#282828]Age: Unknown, but he appears young.[/color] [color=#282828]Gender: Male[/color] [color=#282828]Appearance:[/color] [color=#282828]Adam is tall and of an average muscular build with a pale complexion juxtaposed with his short midnight black hair. His face appears somewhat gaunt and sunken and his lips are always blood red and contorted into a sneer. He wears lavish white robes with black stitching and embroidery. Under these robes, he wears a fitted white shirt and plain white slacks with black boots. He has a few weapons strapped to his body on his thighs and forearm.[/color] [color=#282828]Personality:[/color] [color=#282828]Master is incredibly self centered, brash, hubristic, temperamental, selfish, hedonistic and all around terrible. His only real focus is himself and his gains or pleasures, being a man completely devoid of virtue. Having gained his powers, he now indulges in manipulating those around him into doing whatever he wishes and giving him whatever he wants. He does not care for anyone else's life but his own and frequently kills those who resist doing his biding and succumbing to his power.[/color] [color=#282828]Power/Augmentation:[/color] [color=#282828]Peithos: Peithos is a will affecting ability that affects people, either passively or actively, through one, or all of their sense. Through this ability, Master can bend people to do is biding. The power, however, can only be enacted when that person's sense are in vicinity to Master. Thus, he cannot persuade someone who is outside of his presence. Furthermore, the power persists for some amount of time after the subjects leaves Master's presence. The length and degree of control forced upon someone then dictates the rate at which Master's influence decays. This power will be expanded upon later.[/color] [color=#282828]Gang:[/color] [color=#282828]The Disciples: The disciples are a group devoted to following and supporting Master. The disciples have multiple levels of membership. After a certain level, however, a person moves to the main headquarters and surrenders all their belongings and themselves to Master. Some members have powers, but there is no specific theme to the group beyond devotion to Master.[/color] [color=#282828]Weapons:[/color] [color=#282828]Master usually travels with armed bodyguards to do his shooting, but he is himself adept at hand to hand combat. He is a master in striking, grappling and throwing techniques. The only weapons he keeps on his person are a few small poisoned needles and a long dagger which he keeps under his robes.[/color] [color=#282828]City:[/color] [color=#282828]The Pinnacle:The Pinnacle is a beautiful temple surrounded by a dirty and dangerous slum. The temple complex, where Master resides with his closest disciple members, is a rich architectural marvel adorned with bright colors and art salvaged from the pre-Fall world. The slums are instead comprised of gray featureless warehouses and[color=#282828] [/color]trash[color=#282828] [/color]choked[color=#282828] [/color]streets wandered by the sick and infirm.[/color][/size][/font][/center]

[font="Courier New"]This sounds incredibly interesting. Given the premise and the setting I think it would be really interesting to write for this and a good chance for some deep introspection, which is always good. I'm totally down if you're willing to have me.[/font]

[COLOR=DarkRed][B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1]Name: Tethneka Age: Believed to be 18 Homeworld / Origin: Tethneka's origin is largely unknown. His history begins as a laborer on a freight ship where he was forced to work as a mechanic and general maintenance worker. However, after the ship was seized for illegal operations, he was turned over to an orphanage colony where he would spend the next several years. As time passed, however, Tethneka grew resentful of his situation. Facing constant bullying from his peers for his appearance and distant nature he began stealing parts and building a small ship to carry him away from the colony. After two years of work, the ship was ready to launch and Tethneka set off for the cold comforting void of space where he would eventually be picked up by a merchant ship on which he worked as a mechanic to barter passage to a port. After this, he began life as a drifter, working on various ships as he wanders across the universe. Species / Appearance: Tethneka's species is unknown. He stands at 7' feet and is extremely gaunt with dull white skin stretched over a skeletal figure. His most striking feature are his eyes, which are completely white and have no discernible iris or pupil. His body is also completely devoid of hair, from head to toe. His features, however are rather humanoid. Due to his minimalistic lifestyle, his only outfit is a tattered black tank top and a pair of simple black fabric pants which fall short of his ankle by a few inches. His feet and hands are bare and rough and calloused from his work. Special Skills / Abilities: Tethneka is the definition of a grease monkey. He spends the entirety of his days fixing and fiddling with machines and is phenomenally adept at fixing and creating tech. Despite his height, he can easily squeeze and maneuver through cramped compartments and access hatches. He is also a proficient fighter using crippling kicks and constant acrobatic movement to defeat enemies. Although he tries to avoid fights, if need be, his kicks can easily bring down an opponent and seem to impart more damage than they should. Theme Song: Spitfire â?? Prodigy [media]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4BU0SS-8x0[/media] If I was in World War Two they'd call me spitfire If I was in World War Two they'd call me spitfire If I was in World War Two they'd call me spitfire If I was in World War Two they'd call me spit. Fire Fire Fire Fire Cause you know that I can Cause you know that I can...x3[/COLOR][/B][/FONT][/SIZE]

Hey everyone, I'd like to tell everyone on behalf of Vongola that he's currently having some computer problems. Everything's being taken care of and should be resolved soon.

[color="#0000FF"][size="1"][font="Arial Black"][right]Digging My potato - Seatbelts[/right] [color="#000000"][b][u]Main Character[/u][/b][/color] [b][color="#000000"]Name:[/color][/b] James Jones [b][color="#000000"]Age:[/color][/b]20 [b][color="#000000"]Gender:[/color][/b] Male [b][color="#000000"]Appearance:[/color][/b] James is an unassuming guy. Heâ??s average height at 6â??, average build, plain brown eyes, and plain brown hair which he keeps trimmed into his signature unstyled mohawk with closely buzzed sides. When it comes to wardrobe however, James is a class act. He usually sports a nice pair of dark dress slacks, and a button up shirt with a tie. Occasionally he ramps it up and suits up in a three piece suite or tones it down and goes from some simple dark denim pants and a plain t-shirt. If itâ??s cold out heâ??ll likely be wearing a nice coat. Regardless of what heâ??s wearing, there are two common factors to his apparel. Heâ??s always in his black pinstriped converse high tops, and he never wears the same tie twice. [b][color="#000000"]Personality:[/color][/b] James is usually a loner that tries to avoid needless human interaction. When someone manages to penetrate his social defenses, heâ??s always a perfect gentleman. He has but a few friends. But when around his friends he opens up and liberally utilizes his dry sense of humor. He spends most his time devoted to his hobby, music. He plays multiple instruments including the bass, flute, piano and trumpet. His main instrument however is the double bass which he plays at various places. [b][color="#000000"]Location:[/color][/b] Tennessee [b][color="#000000"]Weapon(s) of Choice:[/color][/b] A very large war hammer with an extended handle. [b][color="#000000"]Unique Ability:[/color][/b] James is incredibly strong for his size. Heâ??s not going to lift a bus over his head but if necessary he might get it off the ground an inch or so. [b][color="#000000"]Weakness:[/color][/b] Heâ??s a hopeless romantic though he tries to avoid women and relationships. In particular, redheads with great smiles seem to have a particularly strong effect on him. [b][color="#000000"]Writing Snippet:[/color][/b] [color="#8B0000"]((Sorry for the delay in getting this up))[/color] â??Thank you for listening, and have a good night!â? James hastily made his way offstage, nearly knocking over half the stage in his hurry. â??Hey, hey James!â? issued a voice from the darkness. James whipped around almost dropping his bass which was half in its case. He caught sight of the shadowy figure sitting by the sound board and immediately felt silly for jumping. He couldnâ??t put his finger on why, but for some reason James was feeling sort of on edge as of late. James finished stowing the bass and headed over to the corner where the voice had come from. Rick, Sound guy; James connection for gigs. â??Howâ??s it going rick?â? queried James in a hushed voice. â??Eh, Iâ??m alright. Got in a fight with the lady so Iâ??m picking up some extra sets to give her some time to cool off. You gonna stay for the next set?â? â??I donâ??t think so. You know I hate being inside these clubs.â? â??Iâ??d consider sucking it up for this next guy. He showed up in town, played a song for the owner and now heâ??s got a full hour tonight. And get this, he just solos for his whole set.â? James interest was hooked. He had been trying everyday for awhile now to get a chance in front of the owner. â??Thereâ??s no way Iâ??m missing this guy if heâ??s as good as you say. Iâ??ll be out front if you get a chance to get away from that board.â? â??Alright man, Iâ??ll find you if I can get away. Now get out of here, I got work to do.â? James headed out the door into the fresh night air, taking a deep breath to recharge himself for the plunge into the crowd. Hopefully that one breath would do as he had to duck inside quickly to catch the beginning wails of the blues song. As the lament of the the harmonica hit James his heart sank and to his surprise, he began to cry. James hadnâ??t cried since he was a young boy. As the song continued James sunk deeper; his shoulders sagging, his mind lost in his past regrets. As quickly as he had fallen into his present state, he was lifted out of it as the music stopped, replaced by the voice of the lone figure on stage. â??Iâ??d like to thank Yâ??all for listening. Especially my good friend James in the back over there. Itâ??s been awhile, but now that Iâ??m back it wonâ??t be the last time you hear from your olâ?? buddy. If none of the other get to yaâ?? first. You been warned.â? [u][color="#000000"]Evil Exes:[/color][/u] The League of Evil Ex-Confidants [color="#000000"]Maggie Mackenzie[/color] â?? Maggie is an up and coming model. She has a pale complexion with dark red hair which makes her a striking occupant of any runway. Perhaps her most notable feature is her heat, both on and off the runway. [color="#000000"]Nicholas Smith[/color] â?? Nicholas hails from the deep-south and was James childhood friend. Heâ??s been gone for quite a few years now so little is known about him. He recently showed up again and is drifting across the south playing small parts in local shows. He has a harmonica which seems to have an adverse effect on others when he desires. [color="#000000"]Julie Meadows[/color] â?? Julie is an aspiring actress that moved to New York to pursue theatre. She has a tremendous voice which she can use to persuade people to do her bidding. [color="#000000"]Kenneth[/color] â?? Ken was a friend of Jamesâ??. They used to play music together in town and spent a good amount of time in discussion with one another about everything from the afterlife to the best way to make a sandwich. Kens managed to project thoughts into reality and has now turned to being a messiah for a small group of people. [color="#000000"]Lauren MacCullen[/color] â?? Lauren is an old family friend that used to be friends with both Nick and James. She seems to be able to perform fantastic feats of grace and agility. [color="#000000"]John Doe[/color] - John is a scientist who works on some mysterious projects. After James and him had a falling out, he went off the radar and devoted himself to his work. Now heâ??s resurfaced and seems to be harboring some resentment for James.[/font][/size][/color]

[COLOR=DarkRed][B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1]“Son!” James’s father is inches away. His eyes flash with a mixture of sadness and pure joy. “My god, I thought you had been killed in duty!” James felt is eyes grow hot as tears swelled in his usually dead eyes. He reached out for his father, but as soon as his arms moved numbers appeared in his fathers eyes and a sickeningly wide grin contorted his face. Before James could say another word, his father detonated. James jolted awake, writhing in agony, his body burned as if it was on fire. “Fuck!” shrieked James, rolling in his bed trying to put out the imaginary flames. After awhile the pain disappeared and James lay motionless. Though the pain had subsided, James could not shake the image of his father from his minds eye. The sickening grin seemed to taunt James. James had had his fair share of nightmares but this one felt different. [center][center]###[/center][/center] [COLOR=DeepSkyBlue]When you’re running from something, you rarely pay attention to where you’re running too. You spend your whole life running, and you might just find yourself in your pursuers den.[/COLOR] [center][center]#[COLOR=DeepSkyBlue]#[/COLOR]#[/center][/center] “Wha’da we got?” bellowed the man crossing the yellow police line. He was 6’ exactly, and in excellent shape for someone his age. His hair was still jet black but he carried a grey beard and years of wrinkles collected from busting the worst of the worst criminals over the years. “Commissioner Freeman sir.” Answered a young detective. “Enough with the formalities, Charles, just tell me what we’re looking at.” “It’s defiantly him sir. Everything matches perfectly. Thought I still don’t believe one man could do all this.” The detective had moved to intercept the commissioner and was now standing right in front of him. “We got two dead guards; night watch. Everyone else is still alive, though some just barely. I swear it’s like a team of highly trained operatives hit this place. No way one guy could do this. I mean, maybe if he had 8 arms or somethi-.” “Get back on track Charles.” Ordered the commissioner gruffly. “Sorry, sir. Like I said, we got two dead guards, both with arms crossed, like they’ve been laid to rest. Then we got 12 guys bound with zip ties and gagged with cloth torn from their own shirts. Some of them had to get carted off to the hospital, on account of serious injury. It looks like they were attempting to make off with some serious loot. The boxes contain military grade micro chips and were supposed to be shipped off today. ” The detective began walking towards the truck, the Commissioner close on his heels. “We got one guy in the truck, he looks to be the head of this heist but he aint talking. Forensics took a look at the truck. It’s been disabled. “What about his calling card?” Asked the commissioner. “Got right here, boss. No prints or nothing.” Replied the detective as he handed the commissioner a pristine white envelope. “Inside is the laser disk. We’ve had the techies take a look at it. As always, it’s got short video and pictures on it; enough to put these guys away for a bit.” “Good work detective. Go ahead and finish up here. Get all those scum balls loaded up and take ‘em to be processed. I’ll finish up here.” “You got it sir.” The detective headed off towards two uniformed officers and had them load the thugs into a van parked out behind the police line. “Who the fuck are you? You sure as hell got it right when you called yourself the ghost.” Whispered the commissioner, to himself. [center][center]###[/center][/center] James wasn’t used to being outside during the day. Most of the time, James was only up for a few hours of sunlight, and he spent that time inside keeping his body up to par with what his duties demanded. However, today James couldn’t get any more sleep after awakening from his nightmare. His watch read 11:00 which was absurdly early, considering what time James had gotten to sleep. Unable to sleep, James began his workout regime. Halfway through however, he still couldn’t shake the images from his dream. He decided that a walk and a hot breakfast would do him good, so he showered, dressed and headed out into the world. The sun was bright, but luckily James aviators blocked out the worst of it. Dressed in one if his few civilian get ups, he fit right in with the people in the run down neighborhood James was living in. Tango made his way down the street, heading for an old run down diner that locals collected at. He loved the morning, and missed walking up with the sun. He decided he’d make the most of being up and try to forget his dream for the time being. He made his way to the diner and grabbed a paper along the way. Upon arriving, he was escorted to a booth in the back by an older lady. He didn’t doubt that the woman had worked at this diner for the greater part of her life. “What can I get you hun?” asked the waitress, with a cliché gruff voice. “What’s the special today?” responded James. “We got two eggs, however you want, two pancakes, two bacon strips, and two sausages.” It sounded as if this was the three millionth time she had listed off the special. She topped all off by pointing behind her at a chalk board, enumerating the special. “Sounds good. Can I get double of everything and two biscuits on the side, with a tall glass of milk please?” Asked James, his voice emotionless. “Sure thing. That’s a lot of food for someone who looks like they don’t eat. I swear you’d seen a ghost, your face is so white.” Responded the waitress as she jotted down his order. “I’ll be back in a bit with your milk.” She said, moving behind the counter, as she yelled his order to the chefs. James busied himself with reading his paper, paying no attention to the waitress as she practically threw his milk on the table. He was scanning for any mention of his work last night, but found none. This wasn’t unusual. He usually tried to break up crimes that the police wouldn’t want the public catching wind of. A few booths away James picked up the hushed whisper of two men leaning in over their coffee. The conversation was clear as day to James augmented sense. “I told you I don’t what this guy is planning, but he pisses me off. I don’t ever want to work for him.” One of the men whispered. “I hear he pays great though. I could use the money, get my girl something nice.” Replied his friend. “Please Jimmy, that girl of yours is under some other guy right now screaming somebody elses name. Trust me, she aint no good, and this new boss guy aint any good either. Stay away from both of them” “Fuck you.” His friend retorted. James scowled as he listened to the two men. He hated the type of men that the two guys embodied. The sound of plates clacking together brought James back to his own table. The waitress was laying out a number of dishes in front of James. Everything he asked for was there. He didn’t hesitate to start his meal once the waitress had finished putting dishes down. “If there’s anything else you want, I don’t care.” The waitress headed off to another table of guests. He hoped the food was good, as he saw no other reason for people to come here. It was. James proceeded to divide his attention between eating his meal, and monitoring the conversation between the two patrons he had previously heard. Soon all the dishes in front of James were clean. In this time, he had also found out several things from the not so private exchange between the two men. Somebody new was in town, and planning something huge. No dates, but a few associates James might be able to spy on to get a lead. James stood and tossed a few bills on the table and exited the establishment. James ran through what he had just learned and waited around the corner for the two guys to exit the diner. He didn’t have to wait long. As the two men passed by James, standing in the alley behind the diner, he grabbed their collars and yanked them into the alley, where he incapacitated one and questioned the other. “Shout and I’ll snap your neck.” The words flowed smoothly from James, as his potential informant squirmed, to no avail, in James grip. James quickly dragged the man deeper into the alley. “Shit! Who the fuck are you?” The man sputtered, running out of breath. James loosened his grip so the man could talk a little better. “Keep it down, or I’ll have to kill you.” “Fuck, Joe sent you didn’t he?! I told that fucker I’d have is money! I still got one more day!” The man continued to stammer. “Stop talking and listen,” said James, with a calm authoritative voice. “I want to know everything you know about the new guy in town.” “I don’t know shit. All I know is that my boss wants the guy dead!” “I think you know a little more than that.” James calmly snatched the guys flailing arm and dislocated a finger, wrenching it at very bad angle. He didn’t want to break anything, as that might end in a hospital visit, and hospitals ask questions. James didn’t want this guy to talk to anyone legit. The guy screamed under James hand which was now clenched over the mans mouth. James moved onto another finger, repeating the process until the guy decided to talk a little more. Soon his breathing became staggered and the man was defeated. “Alright, alright. The guy doesn’t have a name but he’s planning something big. Word is he’s teaming up with the Doc. That’s all I know, fuck.” The mans information could be bad, but it was enough for James to start investigating. “Thank you,” said James, as he calmly proceeded to take the mans wallet, and relieve it off all it’s cash. “I suggest you get a real job and stay out of crime for awhile. Otherwise, I’ll be seeing you.” James vice like grip closed around the mans neck and the man was soon unconscious. James didn’t like to steal, but if the target was someone like this man, James considered it more of a donation towards The Ghosts work. The guy would no doubt run to his higher ups and tell them about James, but he was a nobody to the crime families; Just another punk trying to get ahead in the crime world. Furthermore, the man never got a look at James, he was careful of that. There was nothing to lead back to him specifically. As far as anyone was concerned, he was a Ghost.[/SIZE][/FONT][/B][/COLOR]

[INDENT][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][B][I]??Everybody wants to be a hero...?[/I][/B][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][I][B] *CRACK* [/B][/I][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][B]?Everybody wants to be a Superhero.?[/B][B] *Pow* [/B][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][I][B] ?I just want to be whole again??[/B][/I][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT] [/INDENT][B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed]###[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed] When you kill another man, a little piece of you dies with him. As their final breath escapes their lips, it makes its way into your body and burrows into your subconscious, infecting you. Your mind begins to decay away and your soul turns black. The more you kill, the worse it gets, until there is nothing left. I don?t want to be dead inside. I don?t want my soul and body to rot away from the pestilent consequences of murder. I guess that?s why I fight crime. I guess I hope that every staggered breath from someone just saved will suck some of the sickness out of me and kill it. But deep down inside, I know I?m wrong. I know that no matter how much crime I stop, or how much scum I scrape off the streets, I?ll never get back what STEALTH took from me. I?ll never be whole again. But I try, and very night, I will continue to try until my heart stops and Lucifer himself claims my soul. [/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed] Tonight is no different?[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B][B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][I] ### ?Get that shit in the truck already! I?m not gonna say it again! I should have hired your mothers. God knows they would?ve been better than you punks!? [/I] [/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed]The angry thug continues to spew insults at the ruffians slaving away at their misdeeds. The shouting bounces off the walls and up to the The Ghosts ears. The Ghost peeks over the top of the roof and through a greasy window. Below, in the recently breached warehouse, several men in black are loading crates into the back of a truck. On the floor are several guards, beaten and mangled by the criminal?s bullets and fists. The Ghost focuses his eyes on each guard, checking for life. [/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [I][B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][COLOR=DarkRed]?So disgusting and vile.?[/COLOR][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B][/I] [LEFT][B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed] The Ghost thinks to himself as he watches the criminals below. The Ghost discretely positions himself in the rafters of the warehouse and begins to record the criminals and their actions. After only a few minutes, he ceases recording and drops down into the shadows of the warehouse. The Ghost silently moves to the truck. He slides underneath it, and unsheathes his sword. Swiftly slicing through numerous wires, The Ghost disables the truck, eliminating any possibility of the thieves leaving with anything but their lives and some pocket lint. The Ghost replaces his blade in its sheath and waits for the best moment to make his presence known. [/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [/LEFT] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][I]?Jesus Christ, this was supposed to be done 10 minutes ago. If we?re late the boss is gonna fucking kill me! If I die cause of you pricks, I?m gonna haunt every last one of you to the grave!?[/I] The thug?s voice flies from his mouth and grates on The Ghosts hearing. [/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B][B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed]The Ghost quickly slides out form under the truck and grabs the shouting man around the neck, robbing his crude brain of its precious blood flow.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][I]?Why don?t you leave the haunting up to me??[/I] The Ghost?s voice moves through the air and hits the criminals like a wall of ice. Each one freezing in place, as looks of confusion, horror and shock spread across every face in the room. The Ghosts emotionless face peeks out from behind the unconscious hooligan as the body drops to the floor.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B][B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed] Suddenly, the criminals erupt into action. Some run for the hole previously cut in the warehouse door, while others grab for the nearest weapon. Calmly, The Ghost crosses his arms as his fingers work open the small storage spaces in his forearm armor and grasp several small darts. In a flourish of movement The Ghost spins around, launching the darts at those fleeing, while almost simultaneously drawing his sword. Without missing a step, he lunges towards his closest opponent as those fleeing suddenly stiffen and fall to the floor. Blue tendrils of electricity dance across their bodies, hissing and spitting violently. The Ghost closes the distance between him and the remaining criminals frighteningly fast. His sword makes quick work of the lead pipe in his first targets hands, as a knee rises and does the same to the frightened thief. The sound of cracking ribs and tearing flesh floods The Ghosts ears. As The Ghosts leg descends back towards the ground, his other leg shoots up and connects with one of the ruffians chin. A sickening crack rings through the air. The man?s jaw gives and he falls to the ground, some of his recently displaced teeth closely following. The Ghost continues his onslaught, carefully moving around the dead guards on the floor, broken weapons and criminals rapidly falling to the ground in his wake. Within minutes, the rest of the gang is on the floor. The Ghost?s emotionless face scans the bodies, looking for any sign of consciousness. Finding none, The Ghost begins to prep the warehouse for the police. Moments later, The Ghost slips out of the warehouse and makes his way to a nearby manhole. He pulls it open and drops in, landing next to a motorcycle of sorts. As sirens begin to wale in the distance, The Ghost replaces the manhole cover and mounts the motorcycle. Without hesitation, he starts the engine and shoots down the sewer tunnel.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B]

[B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed]((This is my very first post on the boards ever, so i apologize if it is wrong in any way shape or form. Please PM with any suggestions or requests as to how i can fix it and i will do so. Susano-0 :demon: ) [/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed]Name: James “Tango” Frost Superhero/Supervillain Name: The Ghost Age: 25 Gender: Male Appearance (In and out of costume):[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed]In: His suit consists of white fitted body armor. It is not bulky, though the thighs, chest, and forearms are a little larger to accommodate some moderate supplies. Such as a lock pick set, some handcuffs, etc. It can handle low caliber bullets but anything larger and more powerful than a standard handgun will do some damage. Strapped to the back of his waist is a wakizashi with a white hilt and a black blade and sheath. His mask is armored as well and is a black and white kabuki style face that shows no emotion. In his right eye is a lens to capture minimal video and some still photos. This suit gives him no special abilities.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed]Out: Reasonably tall, at 6’ 3”, he has a large frame and is very lean and muscular, though not muscle bound. His hair is jet black and medium length and he often has prominent stubble. His eyes are cold and white blue in color, and he has a pale complexion. A jagged scar runs from the base of his skull to the top of his back. He almost exclusively wears dark jeans with black combat boots and a black tank top under a worn black leather motorcycle jacket. [/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed] Personality: Tango is a cold, emotionless man. If you can get him to speak with you, you will find that he is cynical and brash in human interaction but never excessively rude or mean. He will help anyone who needs it but never seeks or accepts any sort of reward for his effort. He has no sense of humor.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed]Powers: Heightened senses and intelligence.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed]Equipment: Suit of White fitted armor, Wakizashi, Handcuffs, Lock Picks, Embedded eye camera capable of 20 still pictures, or 5 Mins video, dispenses data on a memory stick from the back of his “helmet”. [/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed] Character Bio/Snippet: The son of a Navy SEAL, James grew up alone. His mother was distant and falling apart because of her husband’s lifestyle. To fill his time and prevent having to go home James was constantly finding new hobbies. Scuba diving, swimming, and martial arts where his favorites. At 16, James mom was killed in a home robbery and James was severely beaten. This left James mentally destroyed after his physical injuries healed. His father returned and retired from the navy to start an anti war organization in the name of his late wife. James viewed his father’s new actions as weakness. He wanted his father to come home and hunt down those responsible. His father tried to get James to see the peaceful way but James would have nothing of it and ran away from home. He spent the next 2 years training in every form of martial arts he could to try to become stronger. At 18, James joined the Navy and due to his phenomenal test scores, was recruited into a secret project called STEALTH (Specially Trained and Equipped Assaulters for Localized Tactical Hits). In this organization he was trained in every form of combat and weapons use. He was also submitted to a procedure in which his human senses were enhanced through implants and a small computer placed in the head to control and communicate with the soldiers. James had become the government’s personal super soldier. For the next 2 years, James was responsible for countless international headlines, and hundreds of deaths. On one mission, everything would change.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed] He was ordered to take out a guerilla group. The mission progressed without a hitch. He planted explosives through out the camp but seconds before they were to detonate, James discovered it was a camp of refugees, being helped by James father. The explosives detonated and the camp and its people were consumed in the explosion. James was destroyed and quit STEALTH at that very moment. He tore off all his gear and removed the computer STEALTH had planted in his brain. He fell into a coma from the resulting shock. His next moment of consciousness found him in a Buddhist monastery with nothing but bandages on. The damage done by removing the computer had resulted in loss of memory. However, due to James above average intelligence and brain capacity, he could still use the implants that boosted his senses. The next few years, James found his way back to America and began a new life as a transient. Migraines and mental flashbacks prevented him from getting any job. Finally, after the worst migraine he had ever had, his memory came rushing back. He swore from that day to use his training and abilities to help people, in order to make up for the lives he had taken, and the horrors he had committed. The Ghost was born, and ready to haunt.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed] Villain: Name: Unknown Supervillain Name: [URL="http://i1002.photobucket.com/albums/af144/Susanoonomiko/cowboy_bebop_volume_5_image_r7Q8uhf.jpg"]King Greed [/URL](Minus the ruffle, and black beard instead of gray but general idea holds through) Gender: Male Appearance (In costume): He wears a fine suite, black pinstripe with matching top hat and is very overweight. Reasonably short as well, at 5’ 10”. He has light skin and a black beard. Personality: Extremely pompous and greedy. He is very proper, and very condescending. He has a very warped sense of humor. Does not care about people. Powers: Heightened strength. Equipment: A cane that extends into a short staff with a blade on one end. [/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B]