Realistic or Modern Of Great Justice And Sinful Villainy [Superhero RP]

[Birdsie]

• Setting
• Rankings & Classifications
• Characters

• Waybridge, Delaware, is a city fighting a war on crime. Plagued by gangs, minor and major, Waybridge has been dealing with superpowered crime for almost a decade. As more and more villains found business, they expanded their territories and reins on the city, resulting in its HOSV (Hive Of Scum and Villainy/High-density Of Super-Villains) status. Recently, a new state-sponsored establishment of the PRT (Parahuman Response Team) has been funded by the government. With the PRT, came the recruitment of professional heroes and their sidekicks.
  
  Now, Waybridge is about to face a war that might tear it apart, between the villains who rule the streets and the heroes who aim to take them back.
  
  Factions:
  
  PRT - Parahuman Response Team. Unlike other public services, the bright color of their white-green sirens is a clear sign that somewhere in the city, a villain with superpowers is being apprehended. Led by the newly assigned director, Howard Kamen, it works side-by-side with the police to ensure order on the streets.
  Protectorate - A sub-division of the PRT composed solely of legally-approved superheroes who use their powers to stop crime and work with the PRT.
  Wards - Underaged members of the Protectorate are referred to as Wards. Albeit they are granted a salary and a yearly trust to compensate their work, their contract also requires that they get a sufficient amount of sleep and keep up satisfactory grades in school.
  
  Fortunato - A remnant of the Italian mafia whose presence in the city remains visible even in the current nights. Although now it is only a glorified gang, the "mafiosos" maintain their native traditions, such as the omerta and keep to the same structure as they have decades ago. It has several superpowered criminals in its ranks. It mostly works by extorting money from local businesses in exchange for protection.
  Solntsevskaya Bratva - A contingent of the Russian mafia maintains a presence in Waybridge. Mostly specializing in human trafficking, drug and weapon sales, and the occasional extortion or assassination, the Bratva is one of the major players in the area, but it maintains a strict code of honor and plays by it. For example, when the docks were hit by a hurricane, the Bratva promised to cease all illegal activity for two months, which they abided to even though the docks were repaired earlier than that.
  The Elite - A large group of corporate overlords and business owners who clumped together, hired a bunch of unpowered minions, and occasionally make use of parahuman mercenaries. Their ultimate goal is complete control on a political landscape.
  Vendi-Xar - A group of aliens whose ship crash-landed three years ago, unrepairable. They took on physical form and began to seek ways to contact home. They are aggressive toward humans and rarely communicate beyond threats and demands. They are capable of constructing complex technology using local materials.
  
  And several other minor gangs, independent villains, and vigilantes.
  
  Location:
  
  To the east of Waybridge, there are the docks and the boardwalk that goes along the coastline; full of stores and apartments for the rich. The further south you go, the more urban it gets, until you reach the big city to the far south-eastern side. The western parts of the city are more dilapidated and old, with thrift stores and a stronger gang activity. In the heart of the city, in a comfortable location, are the local PRT headquarters.
• For the purpose of convenience, there is a list of rankings classifications that are used when referring to parahuman entities and their abilities and potential danger.
  
  Rank E: Poses a low, above-human threat. May require intervention from a trained and exceptional human or a group of trained and prepared humans.
  Rank D: Poses a low threat. May require intervention from a small squad of trained operatives armed with minimal equipment, but the environment may bias things one way or another.
  Rank C: Poses a medium threat. At this point, the intervention of parahumans will be required to capture. Capable of wiping out a group of trained operatives in most settings, but situation or location may bias things either way.
  Rank B: Poses a medium threat. At this point, the intervention of parahumans will be required to capture. Capable of wiping out a group of trained operatives irregardless of setting or situational bias.
  Rank A: Poses a high threat. At this point, the intervention of a group of parahumans (or a single parahuman of equivalent ability) will be required to capture. Capable of staving off numerous threats on their own.
  Rank S: Poses a high threat. The individual in question can call upon enough power to present danger to a city and large amounts of resistance even from a large group of parahumans.
  Rank EX: Poses a national or global threat. The individual in question can endanger numerous urban centers and even dozens of moderate-strength parahumans deployed to combat this threat will rarely be able to compete.
• Feel free to have a lot of leeway with your characters. The source of the power, the details of how they came into possession of their superpower, or any other origins or details will be left to the players.
  
  If you want to make someone who was born in a fictional Asian country and raised by Tibetan monks, practicing super-extra-duper Karate and Celestial Alchemy, feel free to do so.
  
  There are several restrictions when creating superpowers for your characters:
  - No Advanced Time Shenanigans. (Advanced: going back thirty years to kill your enemy's parents; versus Simple: reversing the state of a rotten apple to make it ripe again, or stopping time for a brief period.)
  - No Advanced Reality Warping. (Advanced: setting an entire building on fire with a fingersnap; versus Simple: lighting someone's cigar with your thumb, or making a shirt clean.)
  - No True Invincibility. (Your character cannot be truly unkillable. There must exist a damage type or threshold that will kill them.)
  - The above are general guidlines. I will disalllow anything else I deem game-breaking.
  - I will be hesitant to accept A-rank or above characters. You are, however, allowed to start low and develop to be more powerful over time as threats increase in intensity.

 

[Birdsie]

FireMaiden ttlovepie LindsMagee fin A A Bottle of Memories reapertwo SirDerpingtonIV Noble Scion Archdemon

Chapter 1: Full Disclosure

⛉ ⛉ ⛉ ​

Today, the department opens officially. All of the office buildings were done being prepared, the equipment arrived, the garage had several PRT vans ready to roll out.

The entire building; despite looking like an ordinary office building, had an invisible forcefield surrounding it. There were automated sentry turrets hidden in the ceiling that could roll and shoot at intruders at any moment. Only an idiot would so much as sneeze without permission in this environment.

Director Kamen had a different opinion.

He strolled through the empty halls with a leisurely gait. Today was the opening day.

The director came in through the door. A number of people were to his right and left. A bit crowded, over fifty workers. Some of the less important people were out, working different shifts. Kamen walked through an opening between the rows of chairs and walked to the stage, then behind the long table in the middle and sat down.

He quickly placed names on the people sitting at the table. Department heads. Deputy Director White; Cpt. McKay, PRT Tactical & Operations; Wedge, PR & Liaison; Harrigan, Accounting; Dr. Rowland, Testing, Research & Analysis; Ingram, Informations; and finally, Saito, Headquarters.

Everyone hushed down, until even the lowest whispers quieted to silence.

"Good morning," Director Kamen addressed everyone. "My name is Howard Kamen. I've already had questions about my background. I started out as a lawyer, prosecutor for the District Attorney's office in Erie County, New York. I joined the Seattle, Washington field office after my reception into the FBI, and worked there for the past decade. I worked with every agency you could think of and many you couldn't. In the course of work, I met the man second in command of the PRT, Deputy Chief Director Knox. He offered me this position, and I was happy to take it."

He glanced at the various faces in the crowd.

He smiled, just a little, "I was expecting more groaning when I mentioned the FBI, I'm glad that's not the case."

Not the best joke to open a speech with, but some people here or there smiled. Now to get down to business.

"This office has just finished setting up, but it would be unreasonable to expect you to hit the ground running when things are still in the beginning stages. Many of you will still be busy with moving in, or getting to know where things are, here in the offices or out there in the city. For the time being, things are stable. Cracking the whip and pushing you out into the fray would do more harm than good."

He glanced around the room, trying to read their expressions. They were paying attention, and there were no signs of problems.

"What we're starting here is something new. We have no baggage or precedent weighing us down here, we have no predecessors who've made mistakes we need to fix. I want to do it right, and that means staying in the right mindset. Staying physically, mentally and emotionally strong, not just so we can put our best foot forward, but so we can wake up the next morning and put our best foot forward again. If there's a problem, I want it communicated. Inside these walls or out there. I recognize the extra burden that places on me and the team leaders, but I prefer that to the alternative."

There are a few nods. Some of those nods are from the team leaders. Good.

"Many of you have read the mission statement in the handbooks. The very first point is to remove dangerous and problematic parahumans from the population. After that, the handbook outlines the other key instructions. Preventing and deterring hostile and problematic activities. Identifying and 'tagging' all parahumans in the area. Finally, preparing for the possibility of a class S threat. That's not just the capes we have on board, but the staff. Setting up shelters, making sure the public is informed on where to go and what to do, and having a response ready in case of any scenario that might unfold."

He paused, weighing his next words.

"I don't like that mission statement."

There were a few looks of surprise. Not shock, but he jarred a few of the people who aren't necessarily morning people, who might have been letting their focus slip. Now he had their attention.

"Don't get me wrong. That is the mission statement that's been handed down from up on high. It's not my job or my right to challenge how the PRT operates. But I can say that I don't like that the first priority is to attack, to arrest. That we're establishing a war right off the bat. I would rather say that I want to protect the city. Two sides of the same coin. Those are good people out there, and we're going to give them the most safety and the best quality of life we can."

He glanced around the room, measuring the moods of the people in it. "That's all I had to say. Are there... any questions?"

Players can now post.

 

[FireMaiden]

Scarlett Tempest​

Looking over her homework one last time, she stood and joined the short line of students to turn it in. A three page essay, written about something they were passionate about for not other reason than their English/Homeroom teacher was out of ideas. Tugging at the bottom of her skirt a bit, she returned to her seat, waiting for class to start. Waybridge Private Academy, a school for the rich and powerful, and those with shady connections. Most of the people who went there were the kids of The Elite, or just had super rich families. Scarlett didn't really like any of them, and not because of that, they were all just terrible people. The worst part about this school though was the uniform. Pleated blue plaid skirts, with white dress shirts and knee high socks, it was right of out a damn movie. It sucked, but hey, it's better than bright pink.

The teacher, an older woman named Mrs.Gresson, stood from her desk, and started talking about some upcoming assemblies, the basketball game friday, and a reminder to Cody Anderson not to freeze anymore lunches, when the phone rang. A call from the front desk, not to anyones surprise. The surprise came from when Mrs.Gresson hung up and motioned for Scarlett to bring her stuff up to her desk. Which she did, rather quickly, once again tugging at the bottom of her skirt. "There's someone waiting for at the front desk, come back if you can," She whispered, to which Scarlett just nodded. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't important. And if it was, heh, it was just an excuse to get outta class.

Walking to the front didn't take long, but it did make her realize something. Checking her phone for the time, it was 8 am. And something was happening with PRT today, the teen just couldn't really remember what. Anyway, she gave a quick smile to the lady at the front desk when she entered the large entrance, and then to the man, who she knew to be one of the PRT guys in casual wear. They exchanged quick nods, before exiting the school.

"So...whats going?" Scarlett asked, looking around. She expect to see one of the trucks or at least more of them, but...

"One of your handlers asked me to pick you up. It's the opening ceremony and somebody felt like you shouldn't miss it," He explained, causing her to sigh.

"Do I at least get to change? I hate this," she motioned to what she was wearing.

"Sorry young lady," the man chuckled, opening the passenger side door of a town car with tinted windows. "You'll just have to deal with it."

"Oh, wonderful."

The ride was pretty short, since the guy ran like four red lights and was speeding the entire time, they got there in about 10 minutes. An impressive feat considering the traffic. Anyway, they two would walk in together, and join the crowd of people waiting for their leader to start talking. "Looks like we made it in time," the man said with a chuckle. Scarlett just rolled her eyes. The speech itself wasn't long, either that or she had zoned out for most of it. She could feel a few people watching her, the uniform probably throwing then off a little. There was a slight twinge of pink in her cheeks, as she was going to be working with some of these people and had a feeling they'd bring this up if they had the chance. She only started paying attention again when she heard Howard ask if anyone had any questions. She didn't it, but she couldn't help but glance around to see if anyone else did.

 

[Noble Scion]

Electronic Valkyrie Expert - The E.V.E unit prototype

Spoiler: appearance

The E.V.E unit, after its journey to the PRT Headquarters, had been set to mute and set into one of the corners to prevent it from interrupting the induction of the new members of the team with its strange mannerisms. This, of course, did not make Eve happy at all as, as it wanted nothing more than to spend some time with the cute little humans that she had been given to in what she had been told was nothing more than a "good-natured friendly gesture to the organisation, courtesy of her creators, the Yes Foundation". Yet despite this information, the robot seemed as upset as a robot could be as it sat sadly in a chair in one of the small corners of the room, incapable of producing noise, yet attempting to display it's anguish through the flickering light of her eye and the crossing of her arms. The railgun that had been sent along with her had been taken to a "secure location" for the unlikely event that it would be needed, as the members of the PRT had shown fear at the visibility of such a large, imposing and dangerous weapon being carried around the premises. In its place was now a tranquilising gun, which was severely less threatening and more likely to be used in the situations the organisation, and the E.V.E unit itself were going to be needed for.

The ashen-white robot with a single, glowing-blue eye, simply watched the people entering for the event, and listened to the words spoken by the speaker, yet didn't truly pay attention, and more closely monitored their appearances while maintaining an annoyed expression and fidgeting a significant amount, despite having been threatened prior that she would have been set to stand-by mode if she had of acted as such. 'What torture.. They won't even let me say hello...' Eve thought to herself, staring longingly at the fascinating, adorable and generally cute humans that sat mere metres away, yet she remained incapable of interacting with them. 'True torture...'​

 

[LindsMagee]

Vasilissa's parents kept her home this morning due to the official opening of some department that she didn't care about. Though it was her parents' fault, she knew she would get punished for having missing work in the morning classes that she missed at Waybridge Private Academy today. She zoned off as her parents addressed her and a few other people in the room, not caring what was happening until a loud slam captured her attention. Her father had slammed a his ring-studded onto the counter in front of her.

"Vasilissa. If you do not start fucking listening, my fist will not just be hitting countertops. Understood?" He said in a cool, unfeeling tone. She could feel his burning stare as she dragged her eyes up to meet his. Her mother just sat and watched, a look of amusement on her slender features.

"Understood." Vasilissa replied, stare just as calculated, voice just as cool.

Her eyes flicked to the second in command, Cullen, as he spoke "A student who attends your school in the grade below you, Scarlett Tempest, was removed from class and taken to the opening today. Know anything about that?" He asked. She hated him, he was her father's lackey and would do anything he said. He was only a few years older than her and was cruel, vicious. It also pissed her off that he tried to undercut her every chance he got.

"No. At the academy I focus on academics, not working as part of the criminal underworld." Vasilissa flatly stated. That earned her a backhand the face from Cullen, causing her lip to sting with blood. Without any reaction, Vasilissa stood up, grabbed her car keys, and walked out of the house. Driving towards the school, she knew leaving without being dismissed would cost her later but she didn't care.

She pulled up in her sleek black Maserati and sat in the car, maybe this new organization could help her get out of her life, maybe she could find a way to do something good for once. No, stop thinking like that, it's too hopeful, she reminded herself. Vasilissa pulled on her backpack and stepped out of the car. Walking into the school she decided she might be able to gather some intel about that girl if she came back to school that day. She didn't really care though, because the academy was a whole different world.

(mentions: FireMaiden )

 

[reapertwo]

The Docks
David stood in the back of the warehouse on a shipping container. Of all the crimes committed in this city, human trafficking was the most abhorrent to him. Across the mostly empty warehouse he could see a locked metal door with a guard in front. That had to be where they were. He place his hand on the back of his head and closed his eyes to concentrate on shrinking his eardrums to make them tighter and therefore more sensitive. He could hear frightened clamoring behind the door, as well as half of a dozen armed guards and only one who was not armed. Suddenly, a gunshot went off, stunning David as he whirled around. There was a fresh faced Russian behind on the ground, gun trained up at him. The anger in the man’s face turned to fear as he saw the bullet push itself out of David’s back. As he jumped down, David’s muscles were slightly larger and his right fist was the size of a phone book. The mafia member flew back into another shipping container as David punched him square in the chest. The other guards ran to the commotion only to see a boy with one hand replaced with snake-like appendages. They grew in size and number as they entangled the screaming guards. David flippantly tossed the guards high into the air as he walked further toward his goal. He was stopped by someone with a heavy accent commanding him.
“Don’t move.”
David turned to see a man standing behind a crying little girl. One of his hands was on her shoulder and the other was engulfed in flames. He was a meta human too. A pained expression washed over David’s face as he swore, before putting his hands in the air.