A DCAU-based Multifandom RPG's Journal|
[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 12 most recent journal entries recorded in
A DCAU-based Multifandom RPG's InsaneJournal:
|Wednesday, June 17th, 2009|
((HEY GUYS, FEEL FREE TO GO AHEAD DO POST-TWO-FACE POSTINGS IF YOU WANT, just, y'know, make sure you check with anyone you need to to figure out where you're character's at afterwards. |Db AND SINCE I'M ALLOWED TO NOW.))
Immediately following the wrap-up of the arrest of Harvey "Two-Face" Dent, the following article appears in the Gotham Gazette society pages.
((Click thumb for readable size. Also feel free to have characters notice the misspelling of "Gordon" in that one spot. I'm far too lazy to fix it. |D))
|Thursday, May 7th, 2009|
It was a gorgeous…well, certainly a nice
All right, it was a crummy day in Gotham, with the kind of gray sky that sun-lovers and rain-lovers alike detest for its promise that nothing good is to come. And to add morbid to depressing, the humidity index was so high that transplants from deserty regions could be heard to moan that they were drowning every time they had to draw breath.
But outside and cater-corner from one of Gotham’s biggest landmarks, a dapperly dressed man was smiling contentedly…out of the half of his face which his top hat did not cover. He leaned on the rear tire well of a burnished black coupe, looking for all the world as though he could contemplate Wayne Manor for the rest of his days. The only motion he made was an occasional tic, uncrossing his arms and making to reach into a pants pocket, before grimacing slightly and resuming his arms-crossed, legs-crossed position.
No joggers nor dog-walkers had braved the muggy, oppressive day to be running near him. But if any had they might’ve thought twice and doubled back before passing him, for as one drew near the handsome smile began to appear sinister, and not a little bit mad. He could’ve been the Cheshire cat’s smirking cousin, if only he would’ve obligingly disappeared once in a while.
Instead, he watched.
An hour or so after the man had begun his leaning-watching, he was treated to an extremely peculiar view. A basement-level window opened one inch, two, three, and then slammed shut, revealing on the walkway a tiny porcelain cup. A hopping
tiny porcelain cup, which began making its direct and disconcertingly fast way across the lawns…across the sidewalk…and across the street, until it was bobbing up to the curb by the front bumper of the man’s car.
His grin widened, revealing the tiniest edge of a disfiguring scar across half his mouth and nose…if anyone had been there to see. But the only soul in sight was the little cup, who had by this time gained the sidewalk and was tappity-hoppity bouncing away from him…
Until the man leapt away from the bumper, overtook the teacup in three strides, and tossed him up into the air to land in his upturned top hat. The face which this denuding revealed was more scarred, pocked, and hideous on the left than it was handsome on the right, which should be understood to be a significant accomplishment.
Half-diving into the car’s plush backseat, Two-Face snarled to the driver, “To the hideout!” before peering into the top hat to examine the fascinating bauble he’d caught, and to consider its ramifications for all his lovely plans. Current Mood: chipper
|Wednesday, May 6th, 2009|
Missing Persons Report
Certain Gothamites may or may not be perturbed to realize that the Robin count has gone back down to two. (The average age remains unchanged.) I'm sure you thought the local one was just being quiet... but wait, has anyone even seen him since the party?
Totally unrelated: Bruce Wayne's youngest ward, that rapscallion Tim Drake, has been skipping classes again. His teacup hasn't seen him either. Must be acting out. It's probably just a phase.
Yet less related, to the point of utter irrelevance, we swear: one Lobsang Ludd, a ward of the Foundling Program branch Blüdhaven, has also gone missing. The Program has accordingly submitted a report to the local authorities.
|Saturday, April 18th, 2009|
Post-wrap party in a multidimensional vehicle, anyone?
As he's working in the general bucket line to evacuate Delirium's fish from their...floating...pile and to the speed demon vehicle Shouta'd procured an age ago to get to Cardiff, the Doctor's agile mind is whirring.
There's been so much drama over his girl, his TARDIS, that perhaps was unnecessary. Why not just...
No, <>no. NO DOMESTICS, first rule of his game. And what could be more domestic than playing host to a party for a crowd of humans, two scarabs, and an Endless??
But then he looked again at the scraped up, exhausted, in some cases emotionally wrung out crowd, and remembered there wasn't a rule in existence he hadn't broken. He put on his decision face - they needed something, Rassilon knew, and he had the means. What was one party? After all, inviting them inside wouldn't mean they'd all want to stay, right? They had their own homes to get back to!
Before he could change his mind back, he cleared his throat. "Right, you lot look like shite, and you've all been clamoring to see inside my ship...unless you've suddenly changed your minds? She's more than equipped to handle a bedraggled herd such as...us, bumps and scrapes included, an' I believe she'd like to meet you all anyway. So what do you say? To Gotham?" And he smiled his winningest smile.
|Tuesday, March 17th, 2009|
EVENT: Release the exploding ninjas!
Those unfortunates who have dropped through interdimensional portals over the past months may or may not find themselves the target of concentrated attack by exceedingly skilled ninja assassins!
Once targeted, they will find themselves relentlessly pursued. The ninja are wily and mysterious, and may withdraw briefly to observe your next action, or to toy with you, or to break for pasta. Nevertheless they are sworn to kill, or die in the attempt, and if captured and interrogated they
will not hesitate to break out the hidden cyanide. For each other if not themselves. will, in fact, hesitate to kill themselves: it seems for the first time in their lives they are regrettably freed from the mindless drive to obey their Lord and Master. (Feel free to exploit this.)
Their strengths include explosives, bladed weapons, poisons, and
fanatic devotion to an unknown cause.
Their weaknesses include the superior kung-fu of the Detective known as Batman, and while they are prepared for some small level of the paranormal they are, in the end, only pitifully human. They are also humorless, and therefore susceptible to slapstick.
Are there any questions, you mortal fools?
|Saturday, March 14th, 2009|
In a darkalley backentrance to an Important Downtown Skyscraper, a Doctor falls from the sky.
"Oi! Coulda been a bit more careful on the landing!" he yells. "'F I never get back, you're just a big, blue box, you are!"
Sobering, he turns to the door and, after a brief flare of muffled blue light, sidles inside.
As he crosses the threshold, his raised brow of repressed annoyance rearranges into the lightly furrowed one of concentration, and his swagger smooths out into a dancer's - or a detective's - grace. He lopes up several flights of stairs while muttering under his breath.
"Desire...weeks ago...he came weeks
ago. First contact here. But distorted...distorted energies. Shouldn't be possible. May not be him. Her. Him."
A long pause.
"Best not be either. Damn him if..."
On the 25th floor he turns off, once again "rearranging" the locks with his screwdriver. The ballroom echoes loftily at the sound of his footsteps - only two, still resounding as the little blue light comes on again.
He frowns, creates a cacophany over to a side wall (perhaps the buffet? more likely the bar). Then all is silent as the blue light flares, dies, and flares again into the darkness.
Lowlit, he breaks into a grin that might be described as manic. "You may be good. I'll give you that ya bastard. But you're not as good as you think. And now I know just that much more of what you know." But the smile dies away as well.
"Well bollocks. Lad's so touchy, watch him take offense. An' right as I get good news."
Shaking his head, he turns and shuffles (shuf-uff-uff
) out and down to make the mile trudge back to his billboard. Current Mood: determined
|Wednesday, February 25th, 2009|
We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to announce that the blackout in downtown Gotham seems to have spread to the rest of the city. Lights in the street will have mysteriously blown out, and nothing running on electricity will be working unless it has its own power backup.
Like the laptops for example. Handy that.
Anyone wandering around the streets may also now and then come across someone...slightly charred and crispy. Not too sure what happened there. You might get a story of a strange person in black from them. A mugger of some sort?
...although the slightly stranger tales of lightning strikes might make that idea get dismissed fairly quickly.
The local authorities aren't too sure what's causing this yet, but they will get back to you with details later.
Provided...they actually find something.
Back to your regularly scheduled program.
|Monday, February 23rd, 2009|
Ominous Narration Ensues
At 0100 hours, for those who are awake and counting, the world will change. This in itself is not a remarkable event, for the world is ever-changing, and its inhabitants go about largely ignorant or unimpressed, believing themselves unaffected.
The change wrought on this night, though, will leave none unaffected. Something has been ripped from the fabric of the universe, and anyone who has known any momentary experience of joy or madness will feel it. It may rend them apart, it may set straight what was once woven askew, it may come to them as the briefest of vertigo episodes or a slight twinge in the temple. It will be an unremarkable night for many. But all will feel the ripple-effects in the coming days. Current Mood: pensive
|Tuesday, February 10th, 2009|
From the Desk of Bruce Wayne
Sent to the displaced, the well-to-do, and the extended family . . .
|Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009|
EVENT: The Nuthouse is Cracked!
In the dark of the night, all hep cats who have a finger on the pulse of Gothan's crime-fighting scene will note a familiar flavor of panic wrenching the guts of its police force: the OSHITOSHITOSHIT ALARMS (yes that is a technical law term) going off at Arkham Asylum.
|Saturday, January 17th, 2009|
EVENT: We have the technology.
Dear couch potatoes,
Your shows are back on! Some of them.
But wait, what the heck is this? They're all in Japanese! Oh, huh. There are subtitles.
... Kinda... grainy subtitles. That... were maybe translated from the Portuguese. In Hong Kong. Via Babelfish.
And hey, isn't that a different villain than the one you remember?? He looks... wider. Pastier. Pimplier. And with about 60% more cackling maniacal laughter. Which, in Sailor Moon
, that's a hell of an accomplishment! So give the guy his props.
Fair warning, though: watch this travesty long enough, and you might find you're not able to watch anything else. ...And, wait. Where'd your couch go?[So here's how we're playing it if you wanna play along! Your TV may randomly suck you into an anime of your choice, particularly those from the ADV list. You might run into other people who don't belong there, and do feel free to cross the streams. I thought we'd start with a screenshot, LIKE SO, and then when any character is thrown off 'screen', i.e. the boundaries of the screenshot, Control Freak changes the channel.
Ideally a run should be frenetic and fun. If you want Control Freak to pick your next setting, put your next comment subject as CLICK! and he shall tag you with a scene.
|Tuesday, January 13th, 2009|
Cue maniacal laughter in 3. . . 2. . .
At precisely 4:01 and 20.5 seconds in the afternoon, anyone who is watching those ker-aaazy Japanese animations on the cartoon channel is going to have their transmission mysteriously cut off!
And there will be static. And then silence.
"Mua ha ha ha ha ha ha ha AHA AHA AHAHAHAHHAAA!!!"
See that face? It's wider, pastier, pimplier, and uglier than when you saw it last. If you ever saw it last. But oh, if you don't know him, you will.
"GREETINGS, TITANS!!" he begins, giving a melodramatic sneer worthy of a Mexican soap opera. "I know it's been awhile. Did you miss me!? Because your ultimate nemesis, CONTROL FREAK, has RETUUURNED!!"
The mania ascends quickly to wild glee. "And this time you'll never find out where I am. Until it's too late! Oh! And your precious mainstream dub Japanese cartoons!? They're called anime. And until these n00bs stop slapping on censoring and figure out how to translate it right!?
You're not getting any!
Aha! AHA! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA-- uh?"
He cuts off and whips an enraged look to the side. "What do you mean, you ARE!? You numbwits!! You don't DUB anime! It's ART!! And you took out all the Japanese-- what!? My fansubs make PERFECT sense!!" He waves the remote clutched in one greasy paw, the unholy union of a Voyager-era phaser and Card Captor Sakura's magic wand. "Do not you diss my fansubs." The scowl would be more menacing without the Cheeto-dust, but there's no further noise from the peanut gallery. "And Pretear!? Pretear was a disgrace!! A disgrace!" He wilts into a wistful sigh. "She should've fallen in love with the villain SO much earlier~...
was this still on?"