DC Universe: The New Age of Heroes (RP Topic)

It’s a warm and sunny day in the City of Tomorrow - Metropolis. There’s not a cloud in the sky, and barely the hint of a wind. In Centennial Park, on a large stage usually used for musical performances, there sits a podium. A sizeable crowd surrounds the stage, dominated by members of the StandFast movement holding anti-mask protest signs, and various news stations with cameras poised to record the historic event live. Standing up at this podium, Lex Luthor - the Independent candidate - gives his final words for the rally, his weathered face infrequently illuminated by the fervent flashes of tabloid photographers.

"And while you watch the establishment’s two chosen parties continue their endless game of ping pong, where is the change you crave? Where is the reform you need? Nearly a decade later, and the country is still reeling from the devastation of the Apokoliptian Invasion. What did President Suarez ever do about that? Or the president before him? What have either of these parties’ presidents ever done about the violence and destruction left in the wake of these endless battles, the families torn apart by these events? The United Nations have proven time and again that they cannot hold their appointed heroes accountable, or at the very least reign in their antics.” A ripple of murmured agreements travels through the crowd at this.

"Think back, citizens, I know it may be too long ago for some of you to remember, but think back and remember if you can. Who brought Gotham back from the brink, in the wake of the earthquake crisis, after the previous government entirely failed to handle the situation? Who prevented a similar crisis from escalating in Bludhaven, after the monstrous Chemo creature was dropped on it like some living bomb? Who helped make this country more green, in an affordable manner, bringing us away from our criminal dependence on oil?” The murmurs grow into rallying shouts, punctuating Luthor’s every sentence and requiring him to raise his voice a little.

“I understand that you are angry, I understand that you want change! Even here in Metropolis, my home, I see the rot eating at it from the inside out. I vow to stop at nothing until I stamp out this so-called “Snakebite” that is infecting our streets, and turning our youth to a life of savagery and crime. I also vow to do what the UN cannot and will not, and introduce greater restrictions and deterrents to masks across the country. Like you, I vow to stand fast in the face of their continued lack of regard for you, the people they supposedly wish to protect. And so I ask you, citizens: when you do vote, vote with your heart, and your mind. Vote Luthor.” As he finishes up, the entire collection of StandFasters, with others among them, erupt into a roar of cheers and applause. Once the cacophony dies down a little, Luthor clears his throat to speak again, “I will now be accepting questions from the press.”

Immediately, the throng of reporters explodes with clamouring voices trying to direct attention to their question, and their station. Unfazed, Luthor coolly scans the sea of faces in search of one that he cares to answer.

Meanwhile, in the Southside district of the city, derelict and downtrodden as ever, a hooded figure skulks through shadows of bystreets and shortcuts. Even for Southside, the notorious “Suicide Slum”, this part of the city was particularly ugly: grey dreary apartments, every third building boarded up and rotting away. The figure, apparently male by build alone, turns into another sidestreet, meeting up with another shadowed figure.

“You got the stuff?” The first man whispers discreetly, looking a tad nervous.

“Yeah man, this stuff is like nothing you ever seen - Bane’s on the way out.” The other man smirks confidently, subtly pulling back his jacket to reveal the “stuff”, which was almost definitely Venom - more precisely Venom-X2.

“Don’t talk like that, man!” The first figure almost squeaks, his eyes frantically darting around him as if the muscle-bound Santa Priscan drug lord would suddenly appear from behind a dumpster to punish them for such a slight.

“Relax.” The dealer snorts, “Even if he was here, one shot of this and you could pummel him into the ground. Now fork up, I ain’t got all day.”

“Oh. Yeah man, right.” The buyer nods quickly, fumbling with his wallet before handing over a stack of bills. The dealer eagerly snatches them up, reaching into his jacket to produce a small vial of a vivid green solution.

And elsewhere, in homes across the city: live coverage of Luthor’s rally fills TV screens, radio broadcasts, and online news feeds. Elsewhere in Southside: no doubt more deals, underground fighting rings, and other shady practises, are facilitated by the Snakebite Gang. Elsewhere in Metropolis: other gears are also in motion, criminals and questionable organizations, and heroes working to stop them. Maybe a bank robbery, or a secret meeting, or a hostage crisis. Who can say? The City of Tomorrow is full of opportunity.



ooc: first


The television returned to its usual amount of brightness and the audio began to play properly again. Cafe staff were relieved from their slight distress that maybe the power was being tampered with elsewhere in the city, although some of the patrons were upset that they had missed the majority of Luthor’s speech.

Iosif, however, was busy using a coin to reattach the outlet cover. Couldn’t be too cautious, and it was always good to have some amount of electricity on him.

Gideon Gold stood in the back of the StandFasters crowd, his hands in his pockets, his eyebrows drawn together, as he stared at Luthor. He had little experience with the presidential candidate running on the independent ticket, but the period for election was coming up very soon, and Metropolis was prominent enough of a city that political opinion here could sway a good amount of the nation.

He sucked on a cigarette. Was he considered to be a ‘mask’, simply because he was endowed with a unique and powerful super-ability? If Luthor became president, what steps would he take to ensure superheroes - or even unique individuals - were monitored, possibly rounded up, and kept away from the public?

Many, many questions and implications raised by Luthor’s presence and stance, and many times that amount based on his speech. It was hard enough to keep from being gold on a regular basis; would he theoretically have to hide his powers around the clock?


Katelyn Brown stands near the front of the rally, a StandFast pin displayed proudly on her chest. She holds an active dictaphone in one hand, her notebook perched perilously on top of it as she scribbles down notes as fast as they come to her. She rolls her eyes as the Planet’s representative - Jensen? Johnston? she could never remember - asking a question about economics, or something along those lines. Luthor’s opinions on socialism weren’t what she was here for.

The question answered, she raises her dictaphone in the air, waving and shouting alongside the other reporters in an attempt to get the politician’s attention. By some miracle, the others fall silent; all eyes are on her.

“Mr. Luthor; Katelyn Brown, The Lancer.” She clears her throat, keeping the dictaphone raised towards the president-elect. “Mr Luthor, you’ve made your stance on superpowered individuals clear, but I was wondering if you could offer any more insight into how you plan on dealing with them. What regulations might we expect after your election?” A beat passes. “Hypothetically, of course,” she adds in an undertone.


A grey sedan patrols the streets of Southside, thru the static-filled radio Luthor’s Speech plays, coming in and out of the static as if it was a percussion instrument beating in a chaotic rhythm.

Answer stops the car at the side of the road and focuses on a portion of the speech. ‘This Snakebite… whoever it is, needs to be brought to justice…’ Answer thinks about this as he turns off the radio, unconcerned for the questions of the press in this moment. He sits there for a second and steels his nerves.

The grey sedan heads back into the street and continues its course.


“Of course.” Luthor nods in acknowledgement, clearing his throat, “I’ve been considering many options around this line of policy, as it can be tackled from many different angles. This is a serious and systemic issue, and so great care must be taken to make sure the transition to a less mask-reliant America is as smooth and well grounded as possible. In a broad sense, much like my green policy, this would occur in stages, with the impacts and ramifications of each carefully considered so as not to be disruptive to everyday life. Much like our fossil fuel dependency, it is a disappointing and self-destructive habit, but a habit nonetheless. Whatever those regulations will end up looking like, I can tell you that their implementation will be gradual, and controlled.”

If Answer was to look to his left, he might notice a pair of suspicious looking figures in an alley, quickly scattering as the car comes into earshot.


IC: Hayden hadn’t heard Luthor’s speech, frankly Hayden didn’t care what people, especially political candidates said, he cared about what was actually happening. And what was happening was something about a mysterious “snakebite”. Hayden had heard the term used in connection with the south side several times, so he had gone there to try and gather information, step in if need be.
“Or rather fly in,” he thought “not like I’m gonna be stepping anywhere now.”
As he sat on the corner of the rooftop on a two-story building…

The blue-and-red coated robot took a seat at the gas station, he grabbed the diesel pump and started filling himself back up. As he drank, ROB earwigged to the radio - picking up on a broadcast of Luthor’s speech.
“An Independent!” He exclaimed, “I suppose anybody could do a better job than Eisenhower is doing.”
Seth - his human companion - chuckled slightly, “ROB, Eisenhower hasn’t been doing much for about 50 years.”
“Why, you’re telling me!” He laughed robotically, “Oh, well, who is it now then?”
The shopowner sighed, “I’m trying to listen to this, y’know?”
The robot nodded, going back to his refill.


McGregor, in his normal black suit and deep purple tie stood near the rally, hoping to have a conversation with Mr. Luthor

Thelryn, disguised as your typical land-dweller, passed the crowd gathered for Luthor’s rally. He didn’t hear much of what Luthor was saying and, quite frankly, he didn’t care either.

“Politics,” he spat, as if it were poison in his mouth.

Vance, bored waiting and noticing the passerby spitting in seeming distaste, thought it’d be a nice opportunity to relieve his boredom. “Not a fan of the candidate?” He said approaching who he thought was a human

Thelryn turned to the man who approached him. “It’s more politics in general that I’m not a fan of; never really interested me,” he said. “The name’s Patrick Gordon. What’s yours?”

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“Vance McGregor” he said offering his hand to the stranger

Thelryn shook Vance McGregor’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. McGregor,” he said.

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Vance may appear slightly taken aback at the stranger seemingly having not heard of him or at least his family.
“What’s it about politics that has you disinterested?”

Answer glances to his left and sees the suspicious pair. He parks his sedan down away, before heading into the alley. He pulls his pistol and primes it, keeping it low and pointed at the ground, until he knows they are a threat.

“STATE YOUR NAMES AND BUSINESS!” He states as he walks into the alley. His eyes trained on where they must have gone.

“Pretty much everything,” Thelryn replied. “At the very least, it’s quite boring…”

OOC: Come to think about it, this is starting to border on political discussion, so maybe we should find a way to change the subject…

Adelaide came out a nearby office supply store, her meal for the day in her hands. She quietly came up to the edge of the StandFaster crowd blissfully unaware at who they were and what their purpose were. Her human appearance slightly fading, revealing that she was a mass of paper, her human features tore off and crumpled back into her body. A mass of vaguely clumped together paper stood there behind the crowd. Opening up a packet of paper, Adelaide quietly swallowed sheets whole before quickly becoming uninterested and heading away. Swiftly ignoring any contention she might’ve caused at her display of her anatomy, Adelaide slunk away, almost drifting through the wind. She hadn’t been in the normal world long enough to even really understand power politics anyway. Whatever happens, just happens. With a shrug as she realized that her persona had dropped, she quickly walked away with a spring in her step, her human figure coming back along.

Adelaide headed down the street before perking up at a loud voice. She peeked into the alleyway, holding her bag of “groceries” tightly to herself. Was this random a possible druggie? Or was it a cop? Though cops usually didn’t look this disheveled but everyone had their bad days.

ooc:is it if it’s in character though.

OOC I think if we’re talking about whether we like politics and don’t touch on opinions (character opinions in this case) it’s probably fine, but we can change the subject.

IC: [quote=“TheCobaltCorsair, post:16, topic:54675”]
“Pretty much everything,” Thelryn replied. “At the very least, it’s quite boring…”
“Well one could argue many things worthwhile are boring at times” Vance said with a laugh

Vance would catch a glimpse of her paper form and have a very confused look as he observed her until the went out of sight

Predictably, neither of them did either of these things, and continued to hightail it out of there, possibly with more vigour than before. Fortunately, the bystreet only had one other exit: out onto the street on the other side. If he was quick, Answer might still be able to catch them.

Hayden would probably be able to hear a loud shout from somewhere on the streets below. In the direction of the shout, two figures had scatted out of a sidestreet off in different directions. The path of one of them was bringing them towards Hayden, before they ducked off into another alleyway.

One of the staff notices him bent down over the outlet, and gives him a funny look, “Hey, what are you doing down there?”

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A jolt causes the outlet panel to fly up into the air. The next second Iosif is on his feet, ducking past customers as he scrambles for the door.

Great. Great. Great. Won’t be able to come back here again.

Being at the back of the crowd, Gideon did a violent double-take as he saw her drifting away. Whoever she was, she was more than your average person, and he was going to look into it a little bit closer.

He quietly walked after her, trying not to close the gap until he needed to.

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