Post by batman on Apr 7, 2010 21:29:16 GMT -5
- At the Strings -
Name: Codie
Age: Old
RP Experience: Years
Activity Level: Often. Probably once a day or every two days. Maybe more.- The Character -
Name: Bruce Wayne
Alias: Batman, The Bat-Man, The Dark Knight
Species: Human
Age: 40
Gender: Male
Team Affiliation: N/A (with the exception of maybe the Justice League/Super Friends, but mostly a loner)
Member Group: Hero
Canon: Yes
Appearance:
Standing approximately 6’2”, Batman has a lean, muscular body. His eyes are blue, his hair is black, he’s almost always clean shaven, and he has no discerning cars or tattoos.
As Batman, he wears one of his infamous Batsuits. Some are for various specialized purposes, such as heat resistant or cold resistant variants. However, his two most trademark and more all use type suits consist of a body suit that covers everything from the neck down, a cape and cowl which has a pointy ear-like protrusion on each side and covers all except his chin and mouth region and eyes. Various bat insignia can be found on them, usually in the center chest, as well as utility belts of various sorts.
As Bruce Wayne, he usually wears fine, expensive, business suit and ties out in public.
Personality:
As Bruce Wayne, Batman exhibits a typical ignorant and spoiled Devil may care attitude. He acts like a typical playboy, driving fast, expensive and prestigious cars, dating equally fast, expensive and prestigious women, and flaunting wealth around. However, part of his true self sometimes shows through, as he donates money to various charities, with the sincere motivation to help, rather than simply get a tax write-off.
But whether hiding behind his Bruce Wayne persona or not, Batman is a very troubled individual. He spends virtually every waking moment and every day contemplating his parents’ murder. As a result of the psychological scars he suffered, he’s become a very withdrawn, very cold and very paranoid individual.
Likes or Dislikes:
As Bruce Wayne, Batman enjoys exotic sports cars, supercars and hypercars, as well as dining out at expensive restaurants and overall flaunting his wealth around. However, as his true persona, he likes helping others. Some speculate that revenge has become somewhat of a hobby of his. He likes to spend much of his time in seclusion, thinking over various things or solving various investigations. Most importantly, he’s quite fond of justice, or rather what her perceives as justice.
His dislikes, of course, consist of criminals. Petty thugs and henchmen, but mostly the big names such as the Joker, Two-Face and the Riddler. As well as criminals, one might also add injustice to the list. Lastly, loud, obnoxious and flamboyant people tend to get on his nerves, such as the Flash. Ironically though, he plays the role of such a person as Bruce Wayne.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Although a normal human, Batman has genius level I.Q. and sharpened his mental abilities to near perfection. As well, Batman has worked years upon tireless years, honing his body to peak human performance. He’s also well versed in a variety of martial arts, most notably Ninjutsu, and other techniques from the orient, such as how to block or work through mind numbing pain.
Batman also commands vast wealth and his able to get his hands on tools and other items to assemble the various things he needs to fight crime. The Batsuit, Batcomputer and Batmobile, for example. He’s also well versed in psychological warfare, using sheer fear to keep most of his opponents in line.
However, these talents do not come without a price. Batman’s had to make a lot of sacrifices. His years as a lone vigilante and urban legend have insured that he’s paranoid and mistrustful of virtually everyone, save for a few close lifelong friends (Alfred Pennyworth for example). His trust is hard to gain and once gained, it is easily destroyed. This makes it hard, if not impossible, for him to partner himself with someone for very long.
Likewise, him being an ordinary mortal man can put a hamper on things. He has no more tolerance to diseases, poison, aging, or magic than any ordinary human does.
History:
Little Bruce Wayne may’ve potentially turned out into a normal, healthy person, as far as multi-billionaires go, but fate had other plans. At a tender young age, Bruce witnessed the untimely deaths of both his parents when a mugging went terribly wrong. As a result, his life was forever changed and he seemed doomed to life in eternal unhappiness.
He became obsessed with vengeance and to this end, he dedicated his youth and his money. He spent years upon years upon years, training and perfecting himself mentally and physically. Finally, he returned to Gotham City as an adult and decided upon taking up an alternate identity. It wasn’t only to protect what few loved ones he had left, but also to strike fear into the hearts of criminals. As a man, he could be killed, but as an idea he became incorruptible.
Thus Batman was born. He fashioned himself a costume that not only provided a disguise but also served a function (his utility belt and cape, for example), as well as crafting himself various weapons, such as his trademark bat-o-rangs. By fortunate coincidence, Wayne Manor had an old cave underneath it. Batman picked this as his base of operations and dubbed it the Batcave. Through his vast wealth and various connections, he managed to obtain various other things he needed to fight crime with, such as parts for the Batmobile or the Batcomputer, all the while managing to keep his identity a secret.
Throughout the years Batman has had to overcome various challenges, some of which nearly were the end of him or his career. However, to date, he still calls Gotham City his home and will not rest until he cleanses it. As such, his war on crime continues.
Roleplay Example: At least two paragraphs, each consisting of 6-8 sentences.
They say he can’t be killed. They say he drinks blood.
These were the thoughts, among others, racing through the minds of two thugs who’d just mugged a couple. There was a gun involved but no one was hurt.
Still, pointing a gun at a kid….
They made their way to a secluded spot on a building roof to count their loot, money, jewelry and other spoils. It seemed like a job well done, but there were the usual jitters. No, not just jittered. Each of the two crooks was scared stiff. In Gotham City, they had to be. He or it or whatever it was could be out there, it could’ve saw them. He could come for them.
They tried to play it off, much like a terminally ill man might try to play off his cancer symptoms at first. They joked, but occasionally their voices would slip. Sometimes they’d even stop talking altogether, startled by the occasional unexplained noise or fluttering of birds. They’d collect themselves afterward though, until something else caught their attention.
Maybe….it…had been watching them the whole time, or had been responsible for one or more of the noises that spooked them earlier. Maybe they just failed to notice the shape standing over them on the water tower until now, or maybe it had just recently arrived. The rational thought processes of both men gave way to wild terror. To them, the figure seemed to give off some sort of presence. One man would later remark how it looked like a ghost or spirit that came after them. The other, a giant bat or other sort of abomination of nature.
Then it moved, a cloak or wings spreading out, a loud fluttering, and then the thud as it landed where they had been. Where they had been, because they dropped their loot and scurried away. But there was nowhere to go. In their panic, they realized this figure stood between them and the stairwell, which was their ticket off the roof, other than jumping off.
They turned to face it. The light from the city behind it illuminated it silhouette and at the same time helped to mask its features. It looked humanoid and big, man sized, like all the stories go. Pointed ears that stood straight up, and a cloak or wings or something. And it moved, its cape or wings masking the movements of its limbs underneath, giving the illusion that it was gliding across the terrain weightlessly.
And who was to tell them it wasn’t doing exactly that?
The tendrils of the bottom of its cloak flapped and waved violently, making whatever it was appear all the more supernatural and inhuman. This couldn’t be real. Could not possibly be real. There was no Bat-man, it was all a bunch of bullshit. The crook that carried the gun drew clumsily drew his weapon. He shuttered, fumbling, trying in vain to aim and pull the trigger. Then the pain. Something struck his hand, something thrown, and he released the gun.
It fell to the ground with a harmless clink. Almost as if on cue, something else was thrown. The crook who had previously had the handgun couldn’t be sure that it had actually thrown something at his hand, but he did distinctly see this thing, this Bat-Man, throw something a second time. Something that nabbed and tied up his comrade next to him. A boa or something.
He gave into fear and ran, but before he could make more than three steps, something snagged his legs and they were pulled out from under him. He fell, his face smacking hard on the concrete beneath him. He nearly lost consciousness but then became aware that he was being pulled by something. He looked behind him and muttered some incoherent gibberish. He reached up to try and stop himself from being dragged toward it by whatever had him snared on the legs, but his fingernails on clawed in futility at the ground.
Finally, he came to a stop. Then something grabbed his clothing from behind. Although mad with terror, he knew he’d only been grasped with one hand, or whatever other appendage this thing had. Yet it hefted him up as though he were as light as air. He wasn’t just lifted up though, he was twisted around until he stared at it face to face. He instinctively grabbed in self defense at the hand that held him off the ground. Its muscles were like rock, it’s tendons felt like steel cables. Although the criminal wasn’t fully aware of what was coming out of his mouth, he did managed to produce one coherent sentence. One that got a reply, from a voice as cold and harsh as the worst prison cell he’d ever been in. A voice that would forever haunt him. A deep, raspy, thunderous voice that was as much felt as it was heard.
“What are you?!”
“I’m Batman!”
