CowsGoMoo

Portraits, books, letters -- really, anything inside a house tells a story. If a person were to dig through enough stuff, they might find themselves unconsciously building a biography. Such as the fact that this is a family of three; a dad with two twin daughters. No mother. Or at the very least, from what you can tell from the family portraits. Then, there are the textbooks. World History, Algebra II, and Chemistry. Highschool books. A sketchbook, a dusty guitar, leftover Chinese takeout, food coupons, an empty canister of pills for high cholesterol -- After a while, it’s almost as though you know the family personally… which, when it comes to stealing, really doesn’t help with the guilt. Scott lets out a sigh, beginning to carefully remove his two black gloves off from his hands. After completely rummaging through the master bedroom, the two spare bedrooms, kitchen, living room and even bathroom, he had found what he was looking for. A small metal safe. He wriggles his fingers around a bit, and begins to reach out before hesitating. No one was exactly well off within this area. He had taken a peek at the unfinished bills on the table. They were getting by, but barely. Chances are, this family needs what’s inside the safe. He groans, cursing at his habit of poking around at other people’s business. It would had been easier if he had known nothing at all about this family. However… gangs have already begun raiding homes. It wouldn’t be long until they reached this apartment complex. Whatever’s inside this safe isn't quite safe anymore. It would be stolen anyways. At least, that was what he told himself. There was no time to be feeling guilty. It wouldn’t be long until a group of thugs raided the place, and Scott really did not want to be stuck inside with them while that happened. Anyways, he had stayed behind in this damned city for the sole purpose of getting some much needed cash, and he was not going to let that effort go to waste. Suddenly, out of nowhere, there were gunshots. Not something that was particularly new when it comes to the current state of Gotham, but it wasn’t just two or three, there were shots being fired in succession. They sounded extremely close by, and with a frown, he turns towards the window. Maybe it was a gunfight between two gangs or something... Then, a red flare. Right out of a broken window from a building that was across the street. Scott exhales sharply, moving away from the window, huffing, "Well, that explains the "Where" of the five Ws, at least. Now I just need to answer, When, Who, What, and Whether or not I am stupid enough to intervene..." Gunshots were usually bad news if they were coming from three blocks away, but, across the street?... He begins to run his options through his mind -- he could hold out in here until whatever was happening outside ends… or he could make a break for it now. He turns his attention back to the safe with a small frown. Either way, he had to get into the safe, there’s no reason not to, it would take only a few seconds after all-- He grimaces, the gunshots still ringing through the air. He was starting to feel panicky. Staying inside seemed like the logical thing to do, but at the same time... the building was awfully close. What if there were explosives or something? Perhaps the best option would be to ditch the safe and make a break for it. He slides his gloves back on, trying his best to block out the sounds of gunfire. He didn't want to deal with a guilty conscious anyways. Perhaps it would be best if he left the safe as it is.

Urh... Would it be an issue if I don't know any of the Arkham Knight plot/universe?

Yeah, this will probably be a good idea. An objective before we start the FRP will definitely help get things going, and probably give each of our characters some sort of purpose. EDIT: And oh my. We hardly have any support-type characters. This is going to be interesting. :o

Character Name: Scott O’Neil Identity: None Age: 23 Gender: Male Powers (Max 3): Everything he touches with his bare hands is disassembled into their smaller parts. He can roll his tongue. An ability to get into VERY undesirable positions. Weaknesses: He can’t take apart LIVING BEINGS. Limited control over how much is disassembled when in a state of panic. If he was trying to disassemble the hinges off a door, he may only unscrew a single screw with his power, or accidentally disassemble the entire building and kill himself in the process. A fear of using his own power, afraid that he might injure himself or others. He HAS to wear gloves constantly in order to not be taking apart everything he touches, and even while wearing gloves, he still avoids touching things.. He is not very skilled in rolling his tongue. He is very much “allergic” to bullets, being split in half, being burnt, being incinerated, maimed, beaten to a pulp, trauma, and just death in general. He’s also allergic to cats. Origin: Gotham Personality Traits: He’s messy, panicky, and talks way too much, but he has a good eye for detail, and his unstructured lifestyle tends to make him quick on his feet. He hides his power from the public, and desperately tries to seem normal. Residence: Gotham Moral Alignment (Chaotic Good, Lawful Neutral, etc): Chaotic Neutral (Leaning a bit to True Neutral) Profession (Vigilante, Gang, etc): Petty thief. Uses his power to disassemble locks (and sometimes the entire door by accident). Groups/Affiliations: None Equipment: Two gloves. Suit/Outfit: None, unless you count a simple ski-mask he wears when breaking into homes. Brief History (Optional): N/A (I'll add bits of it when I actually introduce him as a character in the FRP) Art (Optional): N/A will probably find one soon.

Blue cheese

I am also extremely curious how you managed to do this with google drive! I had a classmate who did the same thing for a project once.

Us.

Oh ****. Thanks so much!

Wait whaa. How did you tilt the map?

Tastes like chicken. Yum-ish. Milk tea with tapioca.

Yuck. God, that'd be terrible by itself. Ugh, gross. Sichuan red oil pig ears

Maev 's eyes flitter through the notices on the board, before they stop on a post titled "Eastin Dia Trading Co.". She leans forward to get a better look at the parchment, her eyebrows furrowing. She remains where she is for quite a moment, a frown on her face, before finally, with a slight sense of hesitation, she begins to fill out the application form. Her handwriting is neat and firm, and each sentence seems to have been carefully written out. After filling out the form completely, she double-checks what she has written, before posting it neatly next to the notice. She steps away from the board, and seeming satisfied, heads off. Application:

?/10 I don't believe I have ever seen you, so I don't think I can give you a fair rating. :o

Hi! My name is Kenny, or... if you want to go by my minecraft username, cowsgopoo. I'm super late with this introduction thing, but hey, I've been on and off for the past two years, so that's an excuse, right? Anyways, since I'm probably going to be returning for real now, I guess I might as well introduce myself. I have been on this server since... 2011, actually. Started out as a Freshmen, and now I've just graduated high school and I'm heading on over to college. Pretty spooky if you ask me. I'm going to be majoring in Psychology, and hopefully I'll also be able to minor in Statistics. I'm aiming to land a job in researching... though, teaching Psychology or Statistics as a high school teacher is also very appealing to me. So you must be thinking... "Oh dang, this dude's been around since 2011? He must've done something super productive and outstanding on the server!" Nooope. I haven't held any staff positions, or really had characters of any notable standing. This donation tag isn't even from me actively contributing to the server with my money, I won it in a skin making competition. I've... just sorta been a dude, who's just sorta been around. Since I'm too lazy to type out more sentences, I'll summarize a bunch of other random stuff about myself in bullet points: I'm Asian, with Taiwanese parents. I know how to speak Chinese, but cannot for the life of me read or write it. I enjoy playing the piano. Pretty shocking, I know. I mean, an Asian guy playing piano? That never happens!!!! My mom wanted me to go into Art for college, but because of the space-time continuum ripping apart due to the breaking of an Asian stereotype, I saved the world by deciding to go into Psychology and Statistics instead. I enjoy drawing, but I ain't nowhere as good as some of the folks here. My mom owns a daycare. That means my life is filled with toddlers and infants screaming, crying, laughing and slamming on stuff. It really isn't that bad though. I don't understand the hate for kids some people have. They're really just a bundle of fun. I don't ever want to be a parent though. Way too much responsibility. I like cats, but I have a feeling I'm allergic to them. I took Japanese for 6 years, two years in Middle School and four years in High School. I still suck ass at it. I nearly failed the class every year, but stupidly kept taking it. I don't even watch that much anime, why the Hell did I take Japanese? I literally have no use for it, god dammit. I should've took Spanish instead. I have a dog. His name is Max and he is the light of my life. I live in a community that is like 60%+ Asian. My parents can get around on a daily basis without speaking a wink of English. I have a lisp, because I was born with an abnormally short tongue. It isn't because I'm Asian... >:C I might be going bald (curse my grandparent's genes). Which means I may shave off my hair and become a Buddhist monk soon. You know how the tip of your nose usually has cartilage? Mine is really soft and flexible. Which means I can literally boop my nose into my face. It's pretty wild. I wear pants on a daily basis. Anyways, since I've been gone so long, there's a whooole bunch of people I have not met/seen before, so it's nice meeting you all, and I hope we can meet each other in-game soon!

[HOUSING RECEIVED, thanks!]

http://powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Roboticization I-I can turn people into... mindless robots. That is one villainous superpower. I just wouldn't use it, and hope to god I don't ACCIDENTALLY use it. Seems like a shitty super power to use on someone anyways. Gross Let me try this again, and see if I get a superpower that doesn't make me feel like a terrible human being. http://powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Enhanced_Lung_Capacity Okay. I can hold my breath for a long time. That's... kinda neat I guess. I suppose I'll just... exercise more with this ability?

I agree! Events involving lesser amounts of people is always much more easy to organize, and also less confusing and chat-spammy. I was involved in... one event that had just like, maybe eight people? I actually quite enjoyed that, because I could roleplay and actually knew what was going on. With too many people, it just ends up becoming this large mess of "I don't even know what's happening".

Fleet Foxes - Your Protector I love Pandora man, it's a flibbity floogity fan fawooty tastic thing to use to find nice music.

Holy cow, how did I not see this? I am officially a week late to this. Good going, me. Sad to see you go, man -- Not that I'm really active myself, 'nymore, but still. It was always nice seeing you around on the forums, and I'm going to miss responding to your status updates with "TIMMY". And man, was the OOC chat back then real lively and fun. I'm sure the perseverance and hard-working nature of your's is going to get you far. You done did good, man. You done did good. Gonna miss ya. ;m; (Also, MUFFINS SHALL PREVAIL.)

五。

Nat had remained silent when the professor made her speech--it wasn’t really different from some of the overly dramatic tangents that her customers spouted while she did their hair. She had gave people like that stiff smile and a nod of her head, usually people like that were all talk, with no intention to actually do anything. However, the professor--although just as caught up in the romanticized image of revolution as the rest of them, seemed to be actively doing something. The gap between the lower class and the privileged was only growing and growing, though thankfully, she was one of the lucky few who managed to land smack dab in the middle of it all. She was part of the ever thinning middle class. She wasn’t quite sure how she was able to live a somewhat privileged life from simply cutting hair, but once in a while, some rich gal would stride in--probably preparing for some fancy party or something--and after seeing that she had done a satisfying job with her hairdo, they would give her a substantial tip for her services. After all, people like that were quite literally made out of money. To them, a couple hundred of dollars was nothing, but to Nat, it was what kept her from teetering over the edge into poverty. The other survivors haven’t really acknowledged her yet--probably barely even noticed her in the rush of everything. If there was one thing she was good at, she thought glumly, it was being invisible. Even the professor hardly offered her a glance while giving them all his tangent of a speech. After he finished, a few people spoke out, offering their names, and what they could offer to the cause. When the professor turned to her, she blinked, slightly taken aback. She gave him two rather nervous nods, and said, “Urh, my name’s Nat Kearney…” . He seemed satisfied with that, which made her sigh with relief. She honestly didn’t have much to offer. Unless everyone needed a haircut extremely badly or something, all she had was her extremely limited (or rather, basically nonexistent) skill with a rifle. Even so, a revolution seemed to have been long-coming, with the growing resentment within the cities and the ever increasing separation between all social classes. Clearly, something was wrong with the inner workings of the city, and she supposed it was about time for change.

Nat smiled, holding a small glass of alcohol tightly in her hands. It was a tense little smile, with the sides of her lips twisting upwards to form a grimace. Her dancing partner, Matt, was at ease, staring off towards the center of the ballroom at the dancers a loose grin on his face. They were friends, generally speaking. They talked occasionally, but only when she happened to bump into him while going through her daily tasks, or when he happened by the saloon she worked at. He had pressured her to come with her to the party, and having nothing else to do that day, she agreed to go. She had began to regret that decision. She wasn’t too big on parties--they were crowded, usually stuffy, and loud enough to be migraine inducing--but, she couldn’t deny that they were enjoyable. It was an easy way to take her mind off of things, and some socialization was always healthy, she supposed. It was pretty much crowded, stuffy, and loud in any other part of the walking metal box she was stuck in anyways, so she guessed it didn’t really matter. At the very least there was free food and drink here, and she was definitely going to take advantage of that. “Hey Nat!”, Matt called over the noise, jerking his head towards the food area, “Wanna grab so-” ~*~*~ She wasn't quite sure what happened, but she was on the ground. She glanced around in panic, gripping onto the table she was behind. The sound of gunshots rang through the air. She twitched as the vase on the table next to her shattered, sending shards of glass scattering across the ground next to her. She was frozen in place, her body rigid in fear. Matt was already gone, having probably ran off already--and she had no idea which direction the exit was. She cursed, and began to make her way through the tables, pushing her way through the throngs of people trying to reach safety. She caught a quick glimpse of what appeared to be the side-doors of the ballroom during her scramble for safety, noting the others who were also heading in the same direction. She kicked off her high heels, already regretting her choice of formal attire. Keeping low, she began to sprint towards the others. She hoped that the tables would at least give her some sort of cover against the bullets that still slammed through the building. She reached the exit just in time for a gauss rifle to be thrown straight into her hands. She blinked, staring down at the weapon for quite a moment, before simply letting out a small, “Oh.” "We can't stay in the streets, they'll light us up!" Right. Bullets. Probable death. Should probably find something to hide behind, she thought to herself. She scrambled for cover, gasping for air still, “Aaah, fuuuuck”, she groaned, noticing a large zeppelin heading over towards their direction. She fumbled around with her weapon in her panic. She had a little experience with guns--she had kept a small handgun in her shop, and because of that, had learned how to use most of the basic weapons at a very… well, basic level. She gulped. There might be a chance they could take down the zeppelin with their rifles, but .. wouldn’t that just be a waste of ammo? How many shots would they have to take at it in order for it to finally go down? Finding someplace more solid to take cover in would be a much better alternative. She looked around, searching for the other survivors, hoping for any other cues for further action.

OOC Application Forum Name: cowwsgomoo Roleplay Name: Natalie (Nat) Kearney Skype Name: cowwsgomoo Do you agree to be patient with me as I flesh out this Sci-Fi/Steampunk FRP? Pft. No, of course not. yes. i will be patient. I haven't done a FRP in... quite literally a year. So this should be fun. I think.