Welcome
It all started when a crystal dropped into existence, punched a hole in time and space and landed into the lap of one the most insane men to ever walk the Earth.
At first, the clown didn't know what he had been gifted with, stuck in his cell in Arkham, staring at the reddish purple crystal laying innocently on the dirty stone floor.
And then the voices started, telling him of another universe, talking of power and chaos beyond what he could have ever dreamed.
census
Heroes
Villains
SHIELD
Avengers
Justice League
X-Men
Brotherhood
Mutants
Anti-Heroes
Civilians
Neutral
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00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
00 ♂
000 ♂
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00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
00 ♀
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00 ♀
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000 ♀
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LET THEM KNOW WE
WONT BACK DOWN
a marvel/dc roleplay
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Dead Man Walking
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Post by Jack "The Joker" Napier on Oct 23, 2012 0:35:54 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style, background: url(http://i1095.photobucket.com/albums/i473/shahal_sparda/Rp/JOEKERR.png) center bottom no-repeat; outline: 0px solid #000000; width: 500px; height: 550px; padding: 0px;, bTable][style=padding: 0px 10px;]Every now and then, something was brought to his attention that caused Joker to come out from whatever whole he had crawled into and go in search of something or someone. It never did end well when he had to go and do that. To catch the clowns attention was to essentially sign your own death wish, and so far only a precious few had managed to get away, even fewer had gotten away from his leather clad grasp unscathed at that. Only one man off the top of his head that he could think of, and he wasn't actually a man, but that didn't serve to sooth his general annoyance any. It just.......ooooh how it annoyed him to know that he wasn't top of the food chain, that he needed to up his game now. But his questing through the nation, spreading the joy of laughter to everyone had left his beloved Gotham City with a certain vacuum at the top. There were oh so many people vying for top dog spot in Gotham City, like no one realized that he was already there, it was him, it always had been him and it always would be him. Joker brought the people to their knees in a symphony of chaos and mindless destruction that no one else could hope to dream up. But he had been quiet too long, between his time in Arkham and then his exploration of all the newest chaos he had caused for the entire universe people had gotten too comfortable. Bane, that bastard, he didn't know what exactly he was up to, but Joker had an eye on him, no one was allowed to kill the Bat but him. There was someone else that had come up on his radar, Falcone, oh he thought Scarecrow had done away with that name, but there she was, the last little ducky left in line. He had to go pay her a visit, she was getting a little too big for the place, and only one person could be on top. Which was why he was sitting on her very expensive couch at the moment, having snuck in through a window after taking out someone that had been posted at the door. There was a smile bleeding on the front door now, from where Joker had painted it in the dead man's blood. It was such a swanky place, he was splayed on the comfortable couch idly twirling his new favorite blade, the last he had broken on that damned not-man. Just as he waited, he could hear the clicking of what he figured to be heels walking down the staircase and tilted his head at an awkward angle, it looked more like his neck had been broken then anything else, an unsettling grin spreading across his features, "Well well weeellll hello there Dominique," It was singsong, "I don't believe we had ahhh chance to meet when I was leveling the city," The sentence sort of trailed off as he started laughing at the memory. [style=padding: 0px 10px; font-size: smaller;] Tag: Dom! Words: 522 Music: Deep -NIN Notes: Always needed these two to meet [/style][/style] |
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Falcone Crime Boss
When god is gone and the Devil takes hold who'll have mercy on your soul?
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Post by Dominique Falcone on Oct 25, 2012 3:11:30 GMT -5
D O M I N I Q U E F A L C O N E ! [/color][/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/color][/center]
Tonight was to be an easy night. Tonight featured her making an appearance at an art gala in downtown Gotham. It seemed as though Dominique filled her home with various pieces, Van Gough her favorite, to make up for the lack of homely bodies. The six bedrooms were empty as she elected to fill one with gym equipment and another spent it's time as an entertainment room. She had half a mind to convert another into a sauna though it wasn't something of dire importance. No, she'd fill the rooms with more decor, more furnishings though she didn't expect a soul to fill any of them. She lived alone, uncaring for the other half to fill the emptiness within.
Dominique Falcone was a woman with drive, with ambition. She gambled dangerously with the villains of Gotham while she thought she was better than them. She was, by her standards. She had wealth, beauty, power, all the things which some craved while others despised. She was walking hatred, she gave people a reason to loathe, a reason to feel. To feel is to live. The Mobster didn't mind, it came with the package of her position. And she reveled in it.
Her reflection stared back at her, her bright blue eyes lined in liquid eyeliner, her lips a stained red. Her fingers were busy at work placing the back of her earrings in the clasps. Of her various jewelry sets she elected with the tear drop emeralds as they caused her eyes to take on a green tint. She pressed her lips together as her fingers adjusted the curls, careful not to unthread a single hair from the braid. She had pulled back the hair surrounding her face and braided it with a small section of the back braided just above where the thickness sat. Her fingers touched it as she grinned at herself in the mirror, the artificially whitened teeth bared. She bated her eyes, the lash extensions full. She had her obsidian tights upon her legs giving mind to the cold Gotham experienced this time of year. The weather forecasters already said the snow was coming but to be patient.
After she slipped into her heels for the night she grabbed the warm, black peacoat and slipped it over her forearm, it was still warm in her house so she refrained from wearing it. She walked to the door but paused before she exited. She bent down, nose touched the soft velvet petals of the red roses. She had always loved the beauty of the flower, beautiful but those thorns would get you. She adored the smell as well, it was her signature scent and had been since she was a teenager up to this point. Her fingers flipped the switch off as she made her way down the long hallway, her eyes glued to her phone screen as she read through various text messages. She came to the banister, placed her phone in her purse and began her descent, heels clicked as she walked. The room was still dark until she flipped the switch as she neared the bottom as if on cue a voice she feared filled her ears.
"Well well weeellll hello there Dominique," Her eyes widened as her jacket and purse dropped to the floor, her body tensed in fear. "I don't believe we had ahhh chance to meet when I was leveling the city," His laughter made her cringe.
No, no, no, no, no. He wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to be here in her house. Her eyes looked over to the door and then back at the clown seated with his dirty shoes upon her expensive furniture. Her eyes caught the steel of the blade as it reflected the light with every twirl. She swallowed dry as she looked at the demon of a man who sat so relaxed, he enjoyed this. She blinked hard as she cleared her throat. He wouldn't dare kill her, not now. Not yet? She bent down and grabbed her jacket and purse in an attempt to play it cool, remain calm. She placed her jacket around the banister of her stairs as her blue eyes looked at the Joker, taking the last few steps down.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked as she glanced to the door, wondering how he had managed to gain entrance with men posted outside. Had he killed them all? She exhaled deeply as she walked further into the room, her eyes remained on the man clad in purple. It would be foolish to remove her eyes from the homicidal lunatic. She walked to the bar area and made herself a glass of gin, triple shot. "Would you like a drink?" She offered as she pulled a second glass up. She downed the entire glass in mere seconds as she set in on the counter and repeated her action. "They're all dead, aren't they?" Her head bowed slightly as she looked up at him through her lashes, her glass gripped in her hand. She wanted the situation to remain calm least he get stab happy.
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Dead Man Walking
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Post by Jack "The Joker" Napier on Nov 7, 2012 23:05:03 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style, background: url(http://i1095.photobucket.com/albums/i473/shahal_sparda/Rp/JOEKERR.png) center bottom no-repeat; outline: 0px solid #000000; width: 500px; height: 550px; padding: 0px;, bTable][style=padding: 0px 10px;]He was watching her with dark eyes, much the same way the predator did when he found his next meal. People probably liked to think that he was too damn chaotic to stop and really pay attention to something, but when he came up to someone that really caught his interest, the level of attention paid was as scary as the rest of him was. Joker licked his chapped lips, giving her the once over, watching every last little move she made, he had startled her, oh he could practically smell the fear in her sweat, she was good at trying to cover it up, but the crack had shown and oh how it made him smile. "You're a smaaaarrt girl, from what I hear, I'm sure you can ahhh, figure out what I'm doing here," He was still playing with the knife, moving to kick his feet up on the table, shoes old and worn and trailing a mixture of dirt and caked blood on everything they touched. Not that the clown gave it much thought, or care for that matter, hygiene hadn't been a priority since he was no longer allowed to use a tooth bursh in the asylum out of fear that he would stab someone else with it, and he had more important things on his mind, like the pretty thing standing in front of him. He had to wonder just how pretty that face would be if he carved a smile into it, beautiful then no doubt, a real piece of art. It made his hand twitch. J stopped the urge to spring from his seat and make her smile forever though, this wasn't one of those house calls, not yet at least. Not as long as she managed to keep him entertained, "Oh, why......yeeees, thank you," It was a little too thankful, maybe just the slightest bit too innocent for him, but when your dealing with a mad man, what could one really think? Joker stuck the blade of his knife into the couch cushion, grinning at the tearing sound that it made. Clicking his shoes together in a fashion that would have been childlike for anyone else but just seemed demented for him, Joker tilted his head just the slightest bit, a grin like something found on a shark spread on his features, the illusion like it went on forever given off thanks to his scars. Entirely too large, too many yellowed teeth, too proud of what he had done, "Yes oooh yes, veryveryvery ahhh dead if I do say so myself," Too amused, too insane for one man, "You look sooooo nervous, is it......is it the scars?" Mock sympathy dripped off his tone as he drawled out every last syllable of the word, tilting his head again to give her a look that was almost curious as he scooted up in his seat, "Wanna know how I got them?" The question posed like he was going to tell her a secret, soulless eyes trained on the pretty thing, dark and unblinking as he watched her every last movement. [style=padding: 0px 10px; font-size: smaller;] Tag: Dom! Words: 579 Music: Deep -NIN Notes: 83 [/style][/style] |
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Falcone Crime Boss
When god is gone and the Devil takes hold who'll have mercy on your soul?
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Post by Dominique Falcone on Jan 1, 2013 21:30:14 GMT -5
D O M I N I Q U E F A L C O N E ! [/color][/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/color][/center]
There were people in Gotham, if one would call them as such, that seemed to have crawled their way up from the deepest pits, the darkest shadows. There was something inside of most from the city that made them a bit more inhuman than those from different areas. After seeing that the other world full of marvel did not have Gotham nor Metropolis, Dominique Falcone had come to a conclusion. Metropolis was the light where as Gotham was the dark. Even their respective heroes of the cities were quite different, Batman and Superman. The Dark Knight and the Caped Crusader. And from the darkness came the Joker, quite possibly the most deranged villain in the whole city. Though he was human, she supposed, he was absolutely terrifying. She felt his gaze on her, watching how she reacted.
Her composure was one that often times reflected calm, regal perhaps. She was hardly thrown off her game given her slim opportunities to be bested. But there sat a demon from Gotham unexpected to say the least. His eyes were dark yet familiar in a sort of way though they had not had any type of run in with his war paint and purple. She swallowed dryly, her throat felt like sand paper though a silent rage bubbled deep within her. Dominique Falcone wasn't fond of being bested, to say the least. She controlled many things in aspects of her life and things that revolved around her always went according to plan. The Joker in her living room was not a plan she had set in motion nor was it one she wanted to experience currently. He was smiling, more than just his extensions of his scars. His yellow stained teeth that could be a product of many things such as coffee, cigarettes, or a general lack of hygiene and from his appearance she would say it was a combination of the three.
"You're a smaaaarrt girl, from what I hear, I'm sure you can ahhh, figure out what I'm doing here," He's heard of her. Of course he has. Her blue eyes stared at him for moments before she broke away, not wanting to watch as he toyed with the knife. Though the sound of his feet moving to her furniture caused her to look back at him once more, her jaw tightened ever so slightly. He. Was. So. Filthy. On her clean and expensive furniture! Though he accepted her offer for a drink which was the most civil thing The Joker had probably done in years. Her brows faltered, a small noise much like a pained squeak vibrated on her vocal cords as the sharpened blade of the knife sunk into the furniture. Her heart dropped, her head rolled back and gaze stared at the ceiling. He was doing this shit on purpose. Test the waters so to say.
"Please. Leave my furniture out of this," She spoke with frustration in a growl, her tone somewhat exasperated. Dominique's face dropped as she looked back at him, one eye narrowed a bit more than the other. Bad thing to say. "Actually, forget I said that last part." She said as she watched him from the bar, her glass moved to her lips as she made sure to finish the entire contents of the cup before she brought it back down to the bar. If he couldn't enjoy tearing her furniture to pieces then what would he mess up next? Not her fucking face if she could help it- which was why she had changed her mind.
"Yes oooh yes, veryveryvery ahhh dead if I do say so myself," The Joker spoke, very amused and very pleased with himself. Her eyes were watching the glasses as she filled each to the top with the alcohol though she glanced up at him as he finished what he said, his mouth widened in a smile so sadistic it made her skin crawl. The Joker thrived off fear, if one were to show even the slightest sign he knew to pick at it continuously until his target cracked and his madness could begin. She set the container down though she thought about it for a moment and picked it back up. She wasn't going to just leave that there, this wouldn't be a one glass conversation, when was it ever?
"How sweet of you to do that for me. Obviously you getting the upper hand against them was grounds enough to get rid of them," She spoke venomously.
"You look sooooo nervous, is it......is it the scars?" Her head raised ever so slowly, it canted to the right. This was how he started off the event in which he killed. Her lips pursed together as she took the glasses from the counter and moved around it as Joker scooted forward in his seat, eager to tell his lies.
"Please, your scars have no effect on my nerves," She said as she stared right back at him.
"Wanna know how I got them?"
"If you'd like to kiss and tell," She said as she set his glass on the table while she bent down to be inches from him, only to linger for a moment. Show no fear. It was as if she challenged him at that moment before she rose and took the seat in the armchair to his left, not even two feet away from the clown in purple. She crossed her legs and took a large swig of her drink while she reclined in the chair but not before taking the pack of menthol cigarettes from the table. "Let me guess," She started as she lit the cancer and threw the pack back upon the counter. One more gulp from her drink as well as smoke exhaled.
"Given how you went after my associates in a way to get to Batman years ago, you pissed off the wrong shark. And your blood was in the water," She said as she stared back into his almost demonic eyes, black as coal, and took a drag from her cigarette only to exhale the smoke two seconds later after it filtered through her lungs. "Though that's one of my theories anyways," She said as casually as she could while her senses were on overload. He was stronger than she should The Joker attempt anything which would overpower her but he wouldn't, right? She knew she was powerless against him though as her eyes moved to the left to the dresser a few feet away sat a handgun that would be ever so deadly should the trigger be pulled.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/color][/CENTER] Outfit WORDS:Dunnnooo MUSIC:First of the Year & Hey Sexy Lady by Skrillex [/color][/right][/size]
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Dead Man Walking
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Post by Jack "The Joker" Napier on Apr 12, 2013 22:32:03 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style, background: url(http://i1095.photobucket.com/albums/i473/shahal_sparda/Rp/JOEKERR.png) center bottom no-repeat; outline: 0px solid #000000; width: 500px; height: 550px; padding: 0px;, bTable][style=padding: 0px 10px;]There was a laugh, was she really worrying about the furniture? The fucking furniture? The laugh almost shrieked out of him, that was utterly hillllaaarious. Just because she had said something he added a little more pressure, let his hand slip and was met with the sound of expensive fabrics tearing as he dragged his knife along the furniture, "Oooo ahhh, sorry, hand slipped," The grin on his face was in short, shit eating. A hint of challenging. Downright fucking demented. Either way, just because he enjoyed the moxy, because she actually asked him to stop with the furniture of all things, he pulled the blade out, taking tufts of the cushions insides out with him. Furniture murder. He laughed again. "Mmm guess I did you a favor then, your ahhh welcome Dom-in-ique," He accentuated the name, sounding completely bored with the conversation at the moment, tossing the knife up in the air and catching it when it came back down, amusing himself because he never really could sit still could he? No even when they binded his arms behind his back nice and snug at the asylum he still fidgeted, still managed to find a way out and kept busy in the time between that and when ever someone would finally come to check up on him and notice that he had slipped his bonds. Little never ending cycle they had, but it was fun, gave him something to do, wasn't he just a twitchy little fellow? His face broke into a grin, liquid courage wouldn't be enough to get through this conversation, she had the type of tongue though that he delighted in pulling out, "You've got a pretty mouth Dom-in-ique," It wasn't the same tone as before, that semi almost playful tone he used when he was amused with something. This was dark, a harsh rasp of a blade dragging across the skin, not deep enough to cut, but hard enough to hurt, the precursor, "I knew a doctor with a pretty mouth like yours, ooooh but how she screeeeamed when a pulled her tongue out of that pretty mouth, shame you know, such a shame they wouldn't let me keep the souvenir," The clown was still playing that game of catch with his knife as he spoke, humming at the memory like it was something particularly pleasant. "Nonono, where's ahh, where's the fun in that?" He tossed the knife back up, this time he didn't bother to catch it, standing up after she spoke and instead when it came back down, it stuck itself in her table with a thud, "There was this girl once, pretty thing, Daddy, ohhhh Daddy didn't approve, he grabbed me one day right off the street, him and his goons," Joker was casually stepping towards her as he spoke, "Glasgow, you know? It's ahhhh mob thing," He motioned to his face, "Of course you know! They tossed me in the river, but oh I didn't die nah-ah-ah," He waved a finger around, closer now, "So Dom-on-ique, figured it out yet? Noooo? I hear you can get things, and I'm in need of a few......things," He had murdered his last weapons supplier in a fit of rage, Joker really did have a problem with murdering folks, didn't he? "I'm in the market you see, and ahh....you take care of me, and I don't murder you," A pretty good trade off as far as he was concerned. [style=padding: 0px 10px; font-size: smaller;] Tag: Dom! Words: 603 Music: Deep -NIN Notes: 83 [/style][/style] |
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FORUM SKIN BY KATYA OF GANGNAM-STYLE
do not steal
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