Gotham: City of Sirens

[AMTurtle]

GOTHAM: CITY OF SIRENS
June 1st, 2010.
​

Gotham is entering a new era. Mob rule, long synonymous with the city itself, has been shattered.

The back of the Falcone crime family has been broken earlier in the year by the combined efforts of then-captain Gordon, District Attorney Harvey Dent and, as some rumors go, the Batman himself. Salvatore Maroni has just been arrested as part of a series of raids by the GCPD, leaving what remains flailing and headless. Despite the public scandal of Harvey Dent's maiming, and his subsequent actions, his anti-corruption initiatives have been taken up on a federal level. Dozens of City Hall employees have been arrested, Mayor Hill has been indicted and is set to stand trial before the year is over. With ex-Commisioner Loeb set to be its star witness. It is a new dawn in Gotham City.

And to those with keen eyes, this new dawn seems set to tumble over the cliff.

President Rick Rickard, often called the "Kid President" by his critics due to being 35 when elected, was supposed to usher in a new era. The stock market crash and resulting Great Recession has seen optimism of the Rickard presidency drain. Gotham in particular has been hit hard, leading to an air of anxiety as thousands lose their jobs and face the horrific prospects of not knowing where their next meal will come from, or how long they'll have a roof over their head. The Mob is broken, headless, but its body twitches, seeking any way to survive. Dent's anti-corruption initiative has, in his absence, been co-opted by the Department of Justice. His root-and-stem approach tossed aside for perp walks and quick, career enhancing victories that has seen the City Council decapitated and Municipal government floundering. Old institutions are tumbling down left and right. Aubrey James is interim Mayor by simple virtue of being the last man standing, and little else. Sitting on a 9% approval rating it is doubtful he will win re-election this November though the disappearance of Harvey Dent from politics has made who will run against him up for grabs.

Enter, stage right; A new class of criminal.

---

Running this game with the lovely @triumph8w as co-gm.

Hello! And welcome to Gotham: City of Sirens. You will be playing as supervillains, looking to fill the power vacuum in the city. While we do encourage you to play as a canon villain—Batman's rogues gallery is surprisingly vast, with plenty of minor and obscure characters—OC's are allowed. We won't be beholden to any particular continuity, though The Long Halloween and Batman Year One can broadly be assumed to be 'canon' to the game. With, of course, some wiggle room for how players want to portray any character that may have shown up in either comic.

To expand somewhat on that and set the scene a little; as of the start of the game the Justice League has not formed. Costumed vigilantes are just starting to gain national attention, meta-humans are largely unknown to the public. Being the topic of conspiracy theories and internet forums. Yet governments around the world have been noting a steady rise of metahumans for years with concern. It's a new dawn for more than just Gotham.

Now, without further ado…

DISCORD LINK - MANDATORY FOR PLAYING THE GAME
MECHANICS:​

Fame: Fame is how much the crime world and the rest of the world knows who you are. Carmine Falcone was considered by some to be the favorite son of Gotham with everyone making deals with him. Fame is for keeping track of your legend and who is on track to become the new crime lord of Gotham. Earned for notable acts or victories against your opponents in the war for control of Gotham.
Heat: To gain and maintain control of Gotham you will have to perform unsavory acts from time to time. There is however a limit that will be accepted by the crime world, public and the police. Similar to fame, heat is used to keep track of how much the authorities and other figures are interested in seeing you behind bars.
Funds: Money is the chief motivator why people are fighting for control of Gotham's underworld. The Falcone's proved how much could be gained if someone were to control it all. Money keeps your muscle paid, bribes and whatever your dark little heart desires. This can be obtained by operations, heists or holding territory through protection rackets.

Operations: The beating heart of your criminal empire are the criminal operations that provide a constant source of income. Take care to secure yours and if you want to cripple your enemies take theirs from them. Additional ones can be built in a turn however the build cost must be paid in full.

	Income	Build Cost
Money Laundry	2	4
Smuggling Ring	4	8
Counterfeiting	2	4
Drug Den	6	12
Chop Shop	3	6
Gambling Den	3	6
Arms Dealing	5	10
Phone Banks	2	4

Territory: Where the sausage is made, where the common man walks, the beat cop patrols, the rat stalks. Getting a hold of these basic arteries of Gotham can ensure a good slice of the pie; a foot in the door, if you will. Having a presence in any of these enables you to build operations. Have enough of a presence, and you can gain the base income of any territory. Just remember: shit always flows downriver.

-Otisburg: $4
-Cherry Hills: $3
-New Town: $3
-Burnley: $3
-Robbinsville: $3
-Amusement Mile: $2
-Crime Alley: $2
-The Bowery: $2
-Upper West Side: $5
-Upper East Side: $5
-University District: $4
-Chinatown: $4
-Diamond District: $4
-Coventry: $3
-Tricorner: $3
-Fashhion District: $3
-Old Gotham: Police presence too high.
-City Hall District: Police presence too high.

Events: Every turn will be a month long and during that month an event will happen to shake things up for Gotham. Whether or not these events will be good or bad for you is for fate to decide…

Banks: What's a supervillain without a bank to rob? Banks are an excellent way to get a good windfall of cash, so long as you plan it right. However, the elite of Gotham love their banks far more than they do their fellow man. Any attempt at kicking in the door will earn you Fame and Heat in equal measure. Getting away with it will ensure you have a boatload of cash, and the ire of the authorities with it. Be careful of when, and where, you strike.

-Gotham Merchant's Bank (Bowery): 15$
-Gotham National Bank (Diamond District): 18$
-Gotham City Bank (Upper East Side): 20$
-Bank of Gotham (Old Gotham): 40$

Blackgate Penitentiary and Arkham Asylum: These two historical institutions have been part of Gotham's bloody history for approximately a century with poor souls being shuffled in for a variety of reasons. Blackgate's population exploded during the War on Drugs while Arkham found itself the recipient of the shut down mental institutions on the eastern seaboard. During the DOJ's sweep of Gotham the inmates of both have ballooned with Arkham being used to store criminals swept up by raids. If you dare these are motivated and willing criminals willing to follow those willing to break them out. Being captured is not the end of the game but it will hamper your ability to affect things in Gotham.

Criminal Syndicates: If you desire to you can combine your efforts with another crime lord in Gotham. There is a danger in this strategy because sometimes those close to you can be your worst enemy. There will battle for influence within the crime syndicate. Upon being eclipsed, the player will be forced out of the narrative. Their assets are either going to the senior partners, or fleeing the sinking ship. To maintain influence one must have a careful balance between the bosses and their interests. Each boss must have 30% influence, or they risk being eclipsed. 20-29% one gets a warning about being eclipsed so they may attempt to avoid their fate. Below 20% one simply gets eclipsed.

Desperate and the Amoral:​

Goons: The end of the traditional criminal empires combined with the mass unemployment has seen the muscle of this city for hire at the right price. These are your groups of underlings dressed in attire matching your theme willing to fight to take or hold onto your criminal empire. Keep in mind these are hired goons so while they are willing to fight for you they will flee if overwhelmed by other crime lords or da Bat. Every single crime lord will start with one squad of goons. It will cost $2 to hire and organize an additional squad of goons. There is an upkeep of $1 for each squad of goons.
Accomplices: These are your right or left hand figures within your criminal organization. More effective than a goon but not as effective as you in enacting your will these individuals will be vital in maintaining your crime empire. They are gained through notable acts of crime and earning Fame.
Mercenaries: From time to time the notable problem solvers for hire will show up in Gotham looking for work. Fame and money will decide whose contract they take.

​

[h1][/h1]

Orders​

200 words for orders to be sent to @triumph8w and @AMTurtle in a PM titled Gotham: City of Sirens [character name].

Character App:​

Faceclaim: Optional.
Name: Jonkler(Kcaj Repian)
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 32(?). So he says.
Bio: (A brief overview of the character. Backstory, personality, ect. Please include stuff like Mister Freeze's suit or Fear Gas here.)

To reiterate from earlier, canon characters and OC's are allowed. Batman has a long list of enemies. Plenty of obscure characters there to give the BTAS Mister Freeze treatment to, if you're struggling to find an appealing character. This will not be a Three Jokers scenario ONE of each character will be accepted.

Court of Owls is not going to be allowed because having a group that secretly has been running everything isn't viable.

Maximum of two apps person.

 

[Red Robyn]

FACE
THY
FEARS​

Pronouns: He/Him.
Age: Early forties.
BIO: Ever since he could understand himself as a person, Crane has always felt a sense of detachment and aloofness toward his peers. Later in his life, after achieving a PhD in psychology at Gotham University, Crane theorized that this was the fruit of a troubled childhood and an adolescence dominated by vicious bullying.

He was wrong of course. Crane had always been such a brilliant man. His studies on neurotoxins, very useful for future career choices, were nothing short of revolutionary for the field. But he was too shy, too cowering. No wonder they had bullied him. Crane had never truly felt at peace with himself.

Crane hated Gotham, that simmering cesspit of criminality and arrogance. Fear was, and still is, a constant element in the life of the average Gothamite but the burden of bearing it was concentrated almost solely on the lower classes. Falcone, Maroni, Loeb, and all that scum had never felt it.

That made them stupid, and arrogant. The absence of fear breeds complacency, and the elites of Gotham were nothing but complacent. No wonder the Batman had taken down those crooks.

Batman. Batman showed him the way forward. As long as he has his costume, what does he need to be afraid of? He is more confident now. He has become his better self. Fearless. And only a fearless man can teach them TRUE TERROR. Dr. Jonathan Crane has become...

...THE SCARECROW!​

 

[nachtingale]

​

Name: Detonator (Amy 'Shiv' Ramirez)
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: Mid-Forties​

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
BIO:​

She had all the markings of success. That is what they will always say of Amy Ramirez. Graduated top of her class at MIT, a real go-getter, the daughter and potential heiress of her father's industrial empire, so many things and so much more. No amount of praise could have gone wasted on such an extraordinary young woman.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? Right place, wrong time. Never taken as seriously by her siblings, never to be acknowledged as an actual contender for her father's position in the family. Always recognized as the second-best option in the room, even amongst her idiot trust fund baby brothers, such aspirations as CEO would have never been hers to begin with. Even if she was CEO, what then? The bastard Waynes would always be above her, and above them, the idiot Kid President himself.

Always another mountain top, always another climb.

Her desperation for greatness, the ever elusive peak, would land her on the doorstep of the League of Shadows. Their promises of even greater heights, beyond materialism, beyond the body, but of the mind and self would bring her into their fold with frightening speed. Her adeptness with explosives would serve her well, with her rivals to the company eliminated one by one by seemingly freak accidents, all assisted by the League. Ever higher, ever faster, it seemed that her goal of the peak would come even more closer now.

And then it all blew up on her face, literally.

Pure chance (impossible, by her own estimations), or perhaps sabotage? An explosive would send her into a coma for several months, by which point the company would decide that, of course, her father should be succeeded by her husband. The traitorous bastard didn't even wait to grab the title, and now her she was, a half mangled trophy to be shown to shareholders, with even the League abandoning her like a corpse in the tundra, waiting to be consumed by hungry wolves.

A has-been, a whisper of a future never to come again. That is what they now say of Amy Ramirez.

It would not do. Alone once more, she would turn back to what she knew best, hard work, due diligence, and a heavy dosage of nitroglycerine. Now with nearly two decades' worth of ambition and experience, the Detonator would never again be chained to another, she swore to that.

If she could not have her father's legacy, then she would create an even greater one.​

Spoiler

Amy Ramirez is the theoretical heiress to the Ramirez family fortune, with almost all of her immediate competition either dead or intimidated into silence. In addition, her connections with Gotham's elite, and thus conversely, the former Falcone Crime Syndicate, are quite numerous, a result of her father's significant amoral activities during his tenure over the company. Her access to the family finances are, however, crippled by the fact that they are shared with her husband, making her movements financially slow and ponderous to avoid suspicion.

Regardless, with it, she has supplied herself with the finest in chemical engineering to create ordnances that would make even the finest criminal explosives look downright amateurish, alongside a whole host of other chemical weapons at her disposal. Additionally, her time in the League has seen her excel in a whole host of close quarter combat techniques, with her own unique brand of explosive-CQC weaponry. Though her arrogance would still hold her back on several occasions, she is still quite a force to be reckoned with on her own.

 

[BigBacon]

Name: Waylon Jones
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: Late thirties.
Bio: Abandonment. Ridicule. Suffering. Even as a child, Waylon Jones had been through it all, all thanks to his condition. Some rare form of epidermolytic hyperkeratosis, the doctors said, but Waylon had never heard of anyone else growing scales and claws like a reptile. But no matter what his life threw at him, no matter how many people laughed and jeered at his appearance, he continued onward. Constant visits to Juvenile Hall eventually turned into a stay in prison proper, and for eighteen long years, he stayed there.

Even as his affliction caused him to grow more and more monstrous with each passing day.

Despite having the blood of some of his fellow prisoners on his hands, Waylon eventually managed to find himself free from his cell. But thanks to the changes, the outside world hadn't gotten any kinder towards him. He was still nothing but an animal. A freak. And nothing proved that more than where he ended up. A carnival sideshow, where the only thing he did was wrestle the very creatures he began to resemble so much. Sometimes he would even go too far, and break them with the abnormal strength he had gained.

But he also began to think. Beneath the anger and rage, Waylon couldn't help but ask himself why he should put up with it anymore. What was stopping him from getting his due, what he was owed after a life of misery at the hands of others? Now, the very curse that led to all of his woes gave him strength, the ability to finally be able to take what he deserved. Power, wealth, fame, he'd take it all if he could, and damn the consequences.

His treatment as a circus freak didn't spare the sideshow from his jaws. Disappearing into the wind, Waylon Jones slowly travelled across the country, his legs taking him onward until he found himself in Gotham City. A city that was crumbling apart. A city ripe for the picking.

The perfect place for him to carve out something of his own, even if all he had were the clothes on his back and the name they used to call him.

KILLER CROC​

​

Spoiler

The constant changes and mutations of his body turned Waylon Jones into a monster, with monstrous abilities to match. Clocking in at over seven and a half feet in height, his mysterious condition has granted him the strength to smash through concrete walls and tear vehicles apart bare-handed, while his scales make him near-impervious to bullets and the other kinds of weapons you'd normally find on the streets of Gotham. And if anything does manage to get past his scales? An accelerated healing factor like that of a reptile means it won't be long until he's back in tip-top shape from all but the most grievous injuries.

However, despite all of that bulk and muscle, Waylon isn't just a dimwitted bruiser. His appearance belies deceptively quick reflexes, speed and agility, and enhanced senses such as smelling and hearing give him an edge as he lurks in the depths of Gotham's sewage system. Those who think of him as just another dumb, easily outmaneuvered brute often don't realise their mistake until it is far too late.

And throughout it all, his body is still changing. Growing and twisting as the days go by. If Waylon is already a monster now, then one can't help but wonder: What sort of unfathomable creature will he become?

 

[Telamon]

The Demon's Head
Ra's Al Ghul ​

Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 111

There are men, and then there is the demon.

How does one describe a demon?

You might begin with the facts of his birth, as the romantics among his followers often do — he was born in the Old Town of Cairo in the last days of the 19th century. He ran with urchins under rubbled aqueducts and fished with bare hands on the banks of the Nile. When he was older, he met a girl and had children and washed their backs in the shadow of stone walls. Like us, the demon was human once, and lived a sort of life. The romantics would ask you to imagine a grandfather's wisdom, a love so old and simple and large that it could wrap the whole world in it's arms.

There are more orthodox traditions, which scorn this sentimentality. There are, they argue, many men living sad and short lives on earth, and this will always be so. But there is only one demon, and his story begins in fire, in war, in men burning and screaming and running. Let us say that a dying man dug beneath the sand to cool his blackened skin. Let us say that as he dug his fingers touched cool water. Let us say that he drank this water, and that afterwards he did not die; not then, or ever.

From such a forge — the demon. Imagine his terrible mystery.

And then there are his evangelists. His believers. These ones like to tell a story, slowly and with grim detail. They ask you to imagine a century of life, of wandering and warring and learning, of being tossed like a reed from one cause to the next. Imagine that the same man swam the beaches of Cuba and dug pits along the Kinh Môn, that the same man who advised both Peron and the Derg also evaded Belgian mercenaries in the dead of night. Imagine an eternal witness to all of mankind's follies. Imagine lungs that breathed in mouthfuls of white gas and bled but did not burst. Imagine a body buried, drowned, blasted, cut, burned, broken, but not dead, never dead.

Imagine the incredible will, the overwhelming pain. Imagine an inability to end even when everything you hold dear has been lost more times than you can count. Imagine a love tempered with a hundred years of suffering.

Imagine the hate.

Imagine these things, and you imagine the demon.

His war will have no end. His war will be on behalf of all mankind. His war will leave nothing standing of these systems he has grown to hate, these fleeting and irresponsible nations. His war will be fought on every continent, against every army, against every government, and he will use every skill he has learned, every tactic, every strategy, every resource. Nothing is taboo. No tool is forbidden. This is not a war which he intends to lose.

Those gathered around him are loyal, relentless, devoted. They are dreamers and radicals and hardliners. He has taught them to kill with knife and poison and gun and sword. They are the body of the demon, it's cruel hands and feet.

He is it's head, and his war — which will have no end — begins here, in Gotham.

 

[Etranger]

​

Name: Joker
Pronouns: They/them
Bio: Amongst the common people of Gotham City, there is a movement. Born of equal parts hope and nihilism, its adherents call for the overthrow of the state as embodied by its police and the downfall of the wealthy and powerful, by any means necessary. With their identities hidden behind leering clown masks, they engage in acts of urban sabotage, larceny, and vandalism, all documented on anonymous Internet media accounts.

But this is not a spontaneous upswell of chaos. It is a network of true believers and opportunistic thugs brought together by a single purpose and the nameless visionary who calls the shots: a Clown Prince of Crime, sitting atop a throne of bombs. Swimming unseen within the cloud of petty crimes and copycats, the Ace of Knaves has set in motion a campaign to bring this rotten city to its knees, first by winning its commoners' love, then its criminals' respect, and finally its elites' fear. The city's powerful may chuckle at their followers' antics, and if so, all the better; let them die laughing, with smiles on their faces.

"We are Joker," the masked guerrilla shouts as they throw a brick. "We are Joker," the mob cries as it surges against the riot police. "We are Joker," the graffiti screams from a defaced police station wall. And from the shadows, a tall figure in a purple cloak and suit, armed with blades and bombs and laughing gas, face hidden behind a smiling porcelain visage, whispers, "We are Joker."

Soon, very soon, the world will come to know the true meaning of that royal we, and then it'll be the Jester of Regicide who wears the crown of knives.

Spoiler: The One Who Laughs

Joker Prime is not just an idea or a movement: they are what was once merely a human being and is now a relentless physical and mental force, born in the chemical vats of Ace, honed to a razor-sharp edge by some of the greatest tutors in the underworld. Bereft of their prior identity due to trauma, they feel no pain or fear, and can routinely push their body beyond its former human limitations. They are gruesomely disfigured following their chemical bath, and keep their permanently leering visage hidden behind a mask.

 

[Maybe Mike]

​

Name: Ratking (Previously Ratcatcher)(Otis Flannegan)
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 37(?)
Bio: Otis Flannegan, once the son of an Irish Immigrant to America, the hard times of a man of poor education and poorer employment record, Otis soon fell to lowest of the low and was forced to resort to rat catching to make ends meet. Yet, the longer he stalked the sewers of Gotham after his pray, the more he began to see the similarities between himself and the Rats. Whether due to his isolation, his way of life, or simply the illegal chemicals dumped into the sewer system, Otis Flannegan soon began to commune and control the rats. Then, he began to empathize with them, before finally succumbing to his new state of life where he can quite literally control and speak with the rats of Gotham.

Within his new life among the sewer of Gotham controlling the rats, he came to be known as Ratcatcher as he assisted the various mob and gangs with smuggling operations, until the fall of the Falcone crime family. Now, the sewers were an open market to be exploited as a means of transportation. This, Otis fall the furthest then he ever was; Believing in the right of conquest of a newfound kingdom, with himself; as a Rat King!


Ratking, for all his delusions and ratlike mannerisms, is overall a rather whelmed super villain. He cares for his rats as if they were people, and considers people with the same disdain people have for rats. Filthy, ugly, and disgusting. People are disposable, but the Rats are invaluable in his eyes. Nevertheless, Ratking still does have need of people for all his finds them detestable and disgusting. Namely in upkeeping the large sewer system of Gotham and also in the money used to help care for the rats of his Rat Kingdom.


Besides his ratlike gas mask, Ratking holds a scepter (sprayer) that spews out poisons and gasses he once used when he was a Ratcatcher.

 

[Simpli]

=}+{=



=} My Rates are a Steal {=​

Name: The Carpenter alias Jenna Duffy
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 28
Skills: Poolshark, Con-Arist, Woodworking, Burglary, Actually Licensed Builder
Bio:
There are two things that Jenna can always fall back on: Woodworking and Pool - and there are plenty of pool halls and dives in Gotham that allow one to build up a reputation and some fast cash. But a reputation means that before too long you are met by sharp looks, sharper knives and the kind of reception that makes that kind of cash flow dry down far too easily. And with the way Gotham was not merely tip-toeing, but diving headfirst into an economic crash, there wasn't much use for someone with woodworking skills either.

Still, Jenna hadn't spent her life on the smarter side of things for nothing and unlike many of her former clients she knew that the mightiest safe wasn't going to hold if its weight meant that a few broken supports were enough to send it on a multi-story dive into the underground garage. As such she expanded her portfolio with robbery and burglary as things in Gotham turned for the worse, using her license and van to make her way across a city that was grumbling and falling to pieces before one's eyes.

And that opened up new clients and a new business to her as well: the interest in family homes and white picket fences might be at an all time low in Gotham, but there was an escalating interest in well ventilated lab spaces, fireproof production lines, hidden rooms and secret lairs. The occasional deathtrap had been an outlier but she was feeling as if it was turning into ever more of a thing.

Mean with a pool stick, great with her tools and handy with both lock picks and cons, The Carpenter might look like an odd little piece of the greater puzzle the Gotham underground is becoming, but going from pool shark to running with psychotic cosplayers seems to be the Zeitgeist of the times.

=} Assets {=​

The Handyguys & -gals
Upkeep: 1$

Recruited from the kind of dive bars she visited during her initial hustles in Gotham, the Handyguys (and gals) are the kind of rough and tumble folks who are down on their luck and got a family or a vice to feed. Dressed in matching jumpsuits with tinted safety goggles and helmets they might come across as genuine builders for a moment - at least till they pull out various tools to build, craft or take apart what needs to be done. Among them Artur is the smartest and biggest of the guys, leaving him as head of this group of The Carpenters extra manpower.

=}+{=​

 

[Another Amoeba]

Riddle me this, Batman!​

Name: The Riddler (Edward Nashton)
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 54

He's so much smarter than everyone around him. He's so smart it hurts. Every cop in the city should know who he is. He's given them all the clues; man, he wants to be caught! But like toddlers trying to fit a triangle through their toy's circle-shaped hole, Gotham's Finest just can't make it work.

What do they know, now? Now it's been a while since he's gotten a good look at the prosecutor's files, but the Riddler has some ideas. They've figured out that he's an old Falcone henchman, cut loose by the purge and never rounded up. They estimate that he's collected a decent chunk of what's left of their organization, and he was probably activated because there was no longer anybody pushing him down from above to control his worst impulses. The pathologists suggest surviving the arrests might have been psychologically stressful and made him inclined to reunite himself with his old gang in Gotham Penitentiary by bending his Sherlockian towards one last titanic struggle of minds with the city's investigators. A different workup cites a persistent rumor that can't possibly be true about a tough upbringing and a boy who finally found approval when he won a game of puzzles put on by his teacher. Doesn't that sound a little pat, Mr. Dent?

The truth is, they don't make criminals like him anymore: smug, erudite, put together, smarter than you. He's going to rule the world because everyone else is too stupid for it, and on the way, he's going to show the world that Commissioner Gordon and the Batman are Gotham's worst jokes.

 

[veteranMortal]

Name: Poison Ivy
Pronouns: She/Her/Hers
Age: Pamela Isley was 26 when she disappeared. Poison Ivy is, inexplicably, no older.
Bio: Pamela Lillian Isley was a promising young botanist and biochemist at the University of Seattle, working with and under Professor Jason Woodrue, until her disappearance in 1993. Resurfacing in Gotham as the metahuman "Poison Ivy" in 2008, she has declared war on mankind - on Men, perhaps more pertinently - for their crimes against the biosphere. Gotham is an unsteady ship, fertile soil for her to sow the seeds of Nature's future.

Men respect only power, and it is her fortune to have it. She has not feared anything since she was born from Pamela Isley's terrified helpless suffering. She will never suffer again.

Poison Ivy is almost more plant than human - immune to disease and poison, with the ability to control plants and fungal life, as well as create a pheremone to intoxicate the mind. She additionally can secrete toxins from her skin, usually administered via a kiss, which can vary in effect from mind control to hallucinagen to immediately fatal neurotoxin. She can create plant minions, including the carnivorous.

Face Claim:

My name is Poison Ivy. Welcome to the dusk of man. The age of flora has dawned.​

Name: Sofia Falcone
Pronouns: She/her/hers
Age: 29
Bio: Sofia Falcone is crazy. Sofia Falcone killed all those women. Sofia Falcone was such a goddamn fuckin liability her daddy had to put her inside. Even in Arkham, Sofia goddamn Falcone reached out and twisted her brother Alberto to murder his way through her daddy's men in some sick sorta vengeance. That's what they all say, the worms and the rats who slipped out of the Falcone empire like it was a sinking ship. That's how they justify it, these Made Men, Soldiers of the Family that turned their backs, even the lesser goons who've run off to beg at the feet of the freak parade running Gotham's underground.

They forget themselves. Sofia Falcone is still a goddamn Falcone. Without Carmine there to lean on the doctors, she walked straight out of Arkham, and into the arms of her men - Falcone men, men who remember the old ways, the good times when the cops sat around getting fat on bribes, the DA knew who paid his fuckin salary and the freakin Bat wasn't swoopin around cracking skulls.

She's the boss now. She says she didn't do no damn murders, then she didn't do no damn murders. The freakshow might be in town, but there's a reason the Family has run this city since Sofia's old man's old man was the Boss. They know how it's done, they got the expertise. Haven't met a freak yet who can survive an injection of lead, any which way. The boss'll sort them, every last one of them.

​

 

[ORE]

"In my blood is the blood of Kings. I have stolen nothing, for everything in this city is rightfully already mine."

Name: King Tut, Ramses II(Cassius Crowne)
Pronouns: GREAT/KING (He/Him)
Age: 29
Bio: Wayne, Cobblepot, Elliot, Kane and Crowne. These 5 families built Gotham, their names and works bound into the city's marrow. Centuries have not been kind to them. The Waynes stand proud if near extinct, the Cobblepots have sunken to crime, the Elliots are shadows of their former selves and the Kanes have been all but subsumed by the Waynes. As for the Crownes, they've retained their wealth but their fame and influence has faded. Crowne Construction and design has designed built large parts of the city and makes a considerable income, the family portfolios are significant the manor is large, but the Crownes haven't been movers or shakers in 3 generations. Cassius Crowne is the latest scion of this line, a man who has gone his entire life going through the motions, drifting and idly wealthy. Crowne studied business and architecture as expected and after his parents died in a ski accident in the Swiss alps, at the age of 28 he went back to school to persue his passion for Egyptology. Crowne assembled a considerable collection and undertook serious scholarship. However as year ago, while attempting to install pieces in his home for a personal exhibition, Cassius took a serious head blow when a bust of Ramses II fell on his head. After a period of convalescence, Cassius emerged a changed man. He had discovered hid true nature- the Reincarnation of Ramses II. For the first time in his life in possession of drive and ambition, "Ramses II" used wealth and personal charisma to assemble an organization to get him the objects he felt were rightfully his- and then just to aquire things that were lucrative. Ramses II is an up and coming crime lord, perhaps a reincarnation, perhaps delusional and with an untreated concussion. The city will be his, if he can only get the papers to stop calling him "King Tut"

Powers: Cassius Crowne is a well built man, an amateur boxer, with a continence sometimes as "smouldering" and as Ramses II possessed of a dominant personality. He is also in possession of a trust fund. Ramses II has a considerable collection of ancient Egyptian artifacts and is in the process of mastering their sorcerous secrets and recreating their powerful potions. He has so far only mastered the Abu Rabu Simbu Tu - An ancient Egyptian potion that can paralyze the human will.​

 

[SteelWriter77]

​

Name: The Great White Shark (Warren White)
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 41
Bio: Warren White, an infamous name for his shady deals, embezzlements, unconfirmed acts as a fence and one sided investments cross Gotham, a parasite who lived off making other's lives worse for his own betterment. Karma would catch up to him when he got involved with the infamous crime families of Gotham, thinking he could pull one over on them, he stole money from their coffers, thinking their time in the sun was over. He would not account for the pull they still had with the Law, the GCPD broke into his home and dragged him to court, his years of financial crime and other schemes held over him like a headsmen's axe.

He knew that if he went to Blackgate or any other normal prison, the Crime families would have his head, so he did what he had to do. And pled insanity to be tossed into Arkham...this would be his greatest mistake of his life. He would be tormented by the conditions of Arkham and the fact many of the head Doctors had their own funds effected by Warren's schemes did little to help his case. His life was a series of ridicule and beating from staff and patients alike, a strange sort of solidarity formed with him at the bottom and at their none-existent mercy.

He craved freedom, a release from this humiliation and pain. His money meant nothing to the freaks around him, and the Doctors refused to hear his pleas that he was sane, that he could make a deal to be sent to a minimum security facility. He needed to get out to a world that made sense. In his desperation, he would get involved with a rushed and ramshackle escape attempt, trying with all his might to get out of Arkham.

The attempt fail spectacularly for Warren, who got caught and thrown in a freezer as punishment and petty revenge by the doctors. Causing severe frostbite which took his nose, his hair, his lips and some fingers, bleaching his skin a pale and chalky white. In his desperation he nearly clawed his throat out to escape the pain of the cold, leaving long wounds across his neck which would later be likened to gills. Scared and deformed, Warren felt a cold hate grow inside of him in Arkham's Infirmary, a hate which he let fester and rot what humanity he had left and thus was born the Great White Shark.

Using what connections he still had, he built a network of information and acted as a fence for many inmates of Arkham. And when he actully did escape, he used those new connections and his new alias to carve a new spot in Gotham's Underworld for himself, sharpening his teeth into fangs and denying that he had gone Mad in Arkham. The Great White Shark is fully sane and rational, just unburdened by morality and the idea humans are anything but smarter animals. Wrath and Greed guide him now more then ever, with a cold enjoyment of seeing people suffer, just as he did in Arkham.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

​

Name: Fox (Warren Lawford)
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 32
Bio: Warren Lawford was many thing throughout his life, an armature inventor, a common pickpocket turned made man of the Maroni Crime Family. But he was an ambitious Criminal who wanted more then the scraps he got from Maroni and the other higher ups, so in secret he started to forge his own path. Inspired by the Batman and his almost mythical fear he inspired by coming after the crime families, and after his own close encounter with the bat which left him bed ridden for a week in recovery, Warren set to work crafting a persona to start a take over of Gotham, one that embodied the image of a crafty figure of myth, who could contend with the fear of the Bat, a Fox to trick and maneuver around the Batman and take crime for himself.

Warren was careful and set about his plan meticulously, keeping his public life in the Maroni Crime Family as a low level member in the day, but by night he set about small time robberies and gathering what he needed for a slew of inventions to make his grand debut as The Fox. When Sal Maroni was brought low by the Batman and Carmine Falcone died, the crime world was shaken up, and Warren Lawford was ecstatic, now was his time.

While others scrambled to prepare and bunker down as the whole Underworld power structure was remade, Warren with a whistle on his lips and a fancy suit he had prepared, brought some friends of his to a isolated warehouse where he donned the mask he had prepared, revealing his inventions and his new self. The Fox was about to take to the streets of Gotham and make the City see his brilliance, through a Crime wave unlike any other.

Armed with gadgets he took as inspiration from what few things he has heard the Batman used or things to give him an edge in any situation he needed to fight himself. Such as Reinforced gloves with retractable claws, a modified pistol, a reinforced Fox Mask, Homemade Explosives and other such tools of mayhem.

 

[ArvisPresley]

Faceclaim:

Name: Helena Sekret
Alias: Esper/Little Baba Yaga
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 25
Bio: Born as one of the last batches of the old Soviet Unions secret Esper Program, the collapse of the union had shaped Helena from all throughout her childhood. When the program was shuttered, she was transferred to an orphanage run by the Russian mob wherein her powers would bloom into their own.

From there she would grow to become a hatchet woman for hire of Russian mob and the wider criminal world, using her powers to hypnotize, temporarily rewrite memories, read minds and if she focuses, even tell the future.

Circumstance would lead her to a contract in the United States, wherein her work would lead her all across the Eastern Seaboard before ending up in Gotham for a contract of a lifetime with the the cities leading crime families.

The fall of the Falcones and the various criminal families of Gotham has left Helene without employment and without her payment. Trapped in America, the closest thing she has to a family in Blackgate and with her headaches getting worse by the day, the 'Little Baba Yaga' or as the those in the know are starting to call, Esper, has to take the reins of what remains of Gotham's Russian Mob as well control of her own life for the first time since she was born.

She doubts her chances.

 

[MaironHWH]

Vandal Savage​

Name: Vandal Savage (Vandar Adg)
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 52,000 (officially 44)
Bio:

Article:

In these turbulent times, Gotham needs a leader whose vision transcends the fickle trends of modernity. Mr. Vandal Savage—philanthropist, industrialist, and steward of the city's most time-honored institutions—offers precisely the kind of unflinching resolve this metropolis requires. His candidacy is not merely a political campaign but a testament to the enduring virtues of ambition, efficiency, and resourcefulness—qualities that built Gotham, even as lesser minds now seek to dismantle it.

Mr. Savage's business acumen is unparalleled. As CEO of Savage Industries, he has demonstrated a remarkable aptitude for streamlining competitors, consolidating markets, and ensuring that growth—no matter the collateral cost—remains the paramount metric of success. His rivals, whether corporate titans like Wayne Enterprises or local small businesses, have learned to respect his philosophy: the market is a jungle, and Mr. Savage has always been its apex predator. Who better to apply such principles to City Hall?

In private, Mr. Savage exudes the charm of a bygone era, when men of his stature understood that progress demands sacrifice. He speaks fondly of history's "great builders"—pharaohs, emperors, robber barons—whose monuments still tower over the ashes of the nameless masses. "Civilization," he once remarked, "is not a collaborative effort. It is the story of singular wills imposing order on chaos." Such clarity of purpose is refreshing in an age clouded by populist niceties.

Critics may dismiss his candidacy as self-serving, but they misunderstand the man. Mr. Savage does not want power—he embodies it. His campaign slogan, "A Gotham That Works," is no empty promise. It is a pledge to trim bureaucratic fat, privatize civic assets, and ensure the machinery of governance operates with the same ruthless efficiency as his boardrooms. After all, why should City Hall not mimic the private sector, where accountability is measured in profit margins and underperformers are swiftly… reallocated?

The Gotham Daily proudly endorses Vandal Savage—a leader unburdened by nostalgia for democracy's inefficiencies. His vision is bold, his methods proven, and his commitment to Gotham's future is as immutable as the systems he represents. Under his stewardship, the city will not merely survive. It will consume.

Paid for by the Gotham Daily Editorial Board, in partnership with Savage Industries' "Forward-Thinking Gotham" PAC.

Source: The Gotham Daily Press

Vandal Savage for mayor? Jesus, this city. Shoulda known the brass'd let a wolf guard the henhouse. Ain't like we ain't had worse, right? Buncha crooks in suits, cops on Falcone's payroll, that time they tried to elect Blackfire's third cousin… But Savage? Guy gives me the creeps just thinkin' about 'im.

Lemme tell ya—coupla years back, down at the Blackgate Tap? Saw 'im clear as day. Some drunk dockworker, Jack Mullens, starts jawin' off 'bout union dues, how Savage's goons were shakin' down the port. Next thing, Savage is there, like he'd been carved outta the shadows. Slaps a hand on Jack's shoulder—cold as a meat locker, I swear—and says, real quiet, "Son, you're barkin' up the wrong tree." Jack takes a swing, 'course. Dumbass. Savage don't even blink. Just… twitches, and Jack's on the floor, wheezin' like a busted radiator.

Savage drags 'im out back. Comes back five minutes later, wipin' his mouth with a silk handkerchief. Smilin'. Like he'd just finished a steak. Later, I'm out dumpin' kegs, and there he is, leanin' against the alley wall. Moonlight catchin' his teeth. And Jack… well. Let's just say there wasn't enough left of 'im to fill a sandwich. Savage looks right at me, licks his chops, and says, "Evenin', pal." Like we're buddies. Like he's already mayor.

Y'know what's worse? He ain't even hidin' it. Rest of these clowns—Aubrey, Pike, whoever—they'll smile while they pick your pocket. Savage? He'll eat your liver and call it civic duty. But hell, rent's due Friday, and the GCPD's got my kid brother in lockup for breathin' too loud. So what's the play? Vote for the rat who'll screw ya slow, or the tiger who'll chew ya up quick but might keep the lights on?

Ain't no good choice. Just survival. This city's always been a meat grinder. Least with Savage, you know whose bones he's grindin'.

[Takes a drag off a cigarette, ashes into a coffee cup.]

…Eh, fuck it. I'll pull the lever for 'im. Maybe he'll eat Aubrey first.

​

Spoiler: Subject Perennial Assessment

TACTICAL ASSESSMENT DOSSIER
CLASSIFICATION: EYES ONLY — BLACK RAIN CLEARANCE REQUIRED
SUBJECT: VANDAR ADG (aka "VANDAL SAVAGE")
CODENAME: PERENNIAL
AGENCY: DEPARTMENT OF METAHUMAN AFFAIRS (DMA)
DATE: [REDACTED]​

---

OVERVIEW:
Subject is a Homo neanderthalensis male, chronologically aged ≈52,000 years, biologically stabilized at prime physical condition (est. 45–50 human equiv.). Origin linked to Paleolithic-era exposure to extraterrestrial mineral designated MET-001 ("Crimson Vessel"), a radioactive meteorite fragment theorized to emit mutagenic particles. MET-001 remnants have migrated to Gotham City over millennia, coinciding with Subject's prolonged territorial consolidation efforts.
​

---

BIOLOGICAL ENHANCEMENTS (CONFIRMED):
​

• IMMORTALITY: Cellular regeneration negates aging, disease, and conventional trauma. Full recovery observed post-catastrophic injury (see INCIDENT 1987-BRAVO).​
• PHYSICAL PARAMETERS: Strength (High-Gotham), speed (Low-Gotham), durability (Short Term Medium-Gotham, Long Term High-Justice League).​
• METACOGNITIVE APTITUDE: Neuroplasticity allows rapid mastery of languages, technologies, and combat disciplines. Subject possesses fluency in 200+ languages, advanced tactical/strategic acumen, and expertise in pre-industrial to cyber-era warfare.​

TACTICAL CAPABILITIES:
​

• COMBAT: Proficient in 78+ martial systems; favors bladed weapons (historically linked to Bronze Age conquests).​
• STRATEGIC PROFILE: Exploits institutional decay; infiltrates political/financial hierarchies to destabilize rivals. Current focus: Gotham mayoral bid (see OPERATION STONEHENGE).​
• SURVIVAL INSTINCT: Avoids direct confrontation with metahuman assets (e.g., Superman, JL); prioritizes attrition warfare, resource monopolization.​

---

ANOMALOUS BEHAVIOR:
Subject engages in ritualistic carnivorous consumption of human tissue, termed "RED FEAST" incidents. Forensic analysis suggests metabolic dependency on adrenalized biomatter (hypothesis: MET-001 symbiosis requires cortisol/thyroxine-rich intake). Psychological assessment: Consumption may correlate with psychological dominance displays (see FILE 9A-66: "GOTHAM DOCKLANDS DISAPPEARANCES").

THREAT LEVEL: ALPHA-1 (CATASTROPHIC)
CONTAINMENT PROTOCOLS:
​

• Engagement prohibited without ionizing weaponry or cryo-thermal countermeasures.​
• High-risk of psychological warfare; personnel advised to disregard Subject's parlay attempts (historical compliance rate: 0%).​
• NOTE: Do not underestimate Subject's "primitive" affectations. He has outlived empires.​

---

FOOTNOTES:
​

• MET-001 fragments remain unsecured in Gotham's subterranean strata. Recommend expedited recovery (see PROJECT OBLIVION).​
• Subject's longevity renders traditional intel-gathering ineffective. Predictive modeling indicates he anticipates geopolitical shifts 50–100 years ahead of current paradigms.​
• DIRECTOR'S ADDENDUM: "Savage isn't a man—he's a force of nature with a tax bracket. Assume every 'loss' he suffers is a feint. Assume he's already won."​

END REPORT
[AUTHORIZED BY: DEPUTY DIRECTOR [REDACTED], DMA]
​

---

SUPPLEMENTAL:
Cross-reference with FILE 9A-67 ("CULT OF THE CRIMSON VESSEL") for potential cultist networks aiding Subject's operations.
​

Basil Karlo (Clayface)​

Name: Basil Karlo, the Clayface stalking the Theatre District.
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 39
Bio:
The spotlight was supposed to love him forever. Instead, it left him in the dark, chewing on ashes and regret. Basil Karlo slithered into the City of Angels at 21, all sharp cheekbones and sharper ambition, ready to carve his name into Hollywood's golden calf. For years, he played the game—a dime-a-dozen waiter by day, a phantom haunting auditions by night. Then came The Terror, a fever-dream flick that stuck to the gut like bad bourbon. Overnight, Basil wasn't just another pretty face in the crowd; he was the face they sold in magazines, the method maniac who'd chew a role raw and spit it out bleeding. Six years of riding high, six years of tantrums, tequila, and Tinseltown's fickle adoration.

Then Metamorphosis hit. A smash. A sensation. A siren song that promised forever. Two weeks later, forever skidded off Mulholland Drive. Basil's convertible kissed a guardrail, and his face met the asphalt in a violent tango. The cameras stopped flashing. The mirror started lying.

He hid for a year, festering in the shadows, until a voice from Gotham's underbelly slithered through his phone. "I can fix you." The cure? A vial of something slick and nameless—Renuyu. Miracle mud. Devil's clay. It gave him a new face, a new leash… and a new master. The price started steep, then climbed. Soon, Basil was knee-deep in heists for men with no names and no fingerprints, their demands written in blood and blackmail.

But a star doesn't take orders. Not even a fallen one. Basil went rogue, crashing Sionis Chemicals with a thief's hands and a addict's hunger. He almost made it, too—until some anonymous Judas dialed the cops. Bullets flew. The Renuyu tanks burst. And Basil… melted. Slid through the cracks like gutter oil, down into Gotham's rat-infested bowels.

Now? By day, he's a big star taking a season on the local stages, his face a too-smooth mask that drips when the lights dim. They call it "method acting." He calls it survival.

By night? Gotham's got a new plague. A sludge-thing with a movie star's grudge and a shapeshifter's grin. It's hunting the man who sold him the cure, the suits at Sionis, anyone who ever whispered "has-been." But the clay's getting hungry. Restless. Some nights, it forgets the script—forgets it ever wanted an audience.

Basil Karlo's name might fade from marquees, but the thing he's becoming? It's a headline waiting to happen. And in this town, bad news always gets ink.

The curtain's rising, sweetheart. Better pray you're not in the front row.

Spoiler: Tactical Assessment

Clayface is a high-threat shapeshifter with malleable physiology derived from the unstable compound Renuyu, enabling body reconfiguration, facial mimicry, environmental infiltration (e.g., seeping through grates), and mass manipulation (expanding into a sludge-like monstrosity). His tactics prioritize psychological warfare and deception: impersonating allies, ambushing via terrain (sewers, shadows), and exploiting emotional triggers (grudges against Sionis, fixation on fame). Prolonged exposure to Renuyu has degraded his stability, manifesting in erratic behavior, identity fragmentation, and a corrosive "melting" under stress. Containment requires thermokinetic countermeasures (extreme heat/cold to solidify or destabilize his form), sensory deprivation (disrupting mimicry), and isolating him from moisture or chemical additives that bolster his plasticity. Engage with non-lethal sonic weaponry to agitate his liquefied structure, then trap in a cryo-sealed chamber. Critical Note: Karlo's addiction to Renuyu makes him vulnerable to baiting with counterfeit supplies, but collateral damage is likely—neutralize in areas devoid of civilians or drainage systems.

 

[Lazer Raptor]

​

Mrs. Freeze (Dr. Nora Fries)
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 35, but she doesn't look a day over 23.

Biography: Victor Fries was a known quantity in Gotham's criminal underworld. Everyone knew about his frozen wife with supposedly incurable cancer, and how the genius scientist had turned to crime in his desperation. Then, approximately six months ago, Mr. Freeze vanished. Four months later, a strikingly beautiful blonde woman murdered a visiting oil executive with a very familiar freeze ray before making her escape.

Not many people had given Nora Fries a second thought. She was a popsicle who "Mr. Freeze" cried about, useful only as leverage over the ice man. Very few people knew that Nora possessed a doctorate in climate science, and even fewer had read her publications. Not even The Bat could know that until she met Victor, she had despaired over ever finding companionship. Nora had appreciated his analytical mind, cherished his gentle demeanor, laughed at his awful sense of humor, and tried to help him with the deep sadness that lay within him. Now he was dead.

Poor self-sacrificing Victor had little to live for besides his work and his wife, and when his work became about saving his wife? The life he barely valued was a price he paid without even thinking about it. Victor died, and Nora lived. She could have tried to get her old position back, or applied for work elsewhere, left Gotham, moved on. What would the point be? Climate action was further away than when she had first been frozen, nobody read her papers anyways, she had nobody to share her new lease on life with, and Victor had left her all of his gear (including instruction manuals, the diligent fool).

Victor had given his life to give her this second lease on life, so fuck it, Nora will shoulder the burden of saving humanity from itself. She won't let Vicky's sacrifice be in vain.
​

Spoiler: Tactical Assessment

Nora Fries is just as intelligent as her late husband, and possesses both his equipment and the knowhow to use it. Unlike her husband, she does not have a license as a Professional Engineer, but as his longtime partner, she possesses a degree of practical engineering knowledge sufficient to create more of his technology and maintain it, albeit less efficiently. Her specialty is large scale climatic effects rather than cryogenics per se, and she is not as used to working on the small scale as Victor was. Finally, she does not require cold temperatures to survive like "Vicky" did, but she has a preference for colder environments.​

Poison Ivy (Dr. Pamela Isley)
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 30(??)​

Biography: Pamela Isley was once a shining star, perhaps the prodigy of the botany world, and the renowned Dr. Woodrue's research partner. It was thought to be only a matter of time before she surpassed him and took over the university's botany department, but then something happened. Dr. Isley disappeared, and Woodrue's body was found ripped apart by plants, pure terror on his face.

When she resurfaced, Pamela Isley was very obviously no longer human. Adopting the moniker of Poison Ivy, she has waged a one woman campaign of ecofeminist terror across the country, declaring war on Man in writings ranging from scientific papers to environmentalist polemic. Now she has come to Gotham, the most polluted city in the United States, and with her she brings her message.

Ivy is the harbinger of the Green, its speaker and its warrior. She knows that the enemy is not humanity, but Man, who treats The Green as if it were property, who seeks to dominate and destroy that which he cannot control. If Ivy gets her way, Man will die choking, and humanity will be born anew in the light of the Green.

Spoiler: Tactical Assessment

Poison Ivy is immune to toxins, possesses pheromones which can bend humans to her will, and her body secretes a veritable arsenal of different toxins, which she can tailor for specific effects on anyone who comes into contact with her. Her connection to the Green allows her to speak to, control, and shape plant and fungal life. Woe to anyone who finds himself in her grasp.

 

[Fancy Face]

Name: Ramona Sionis
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 28
Bio: Ramona was brought up in the lap of luxury as the only child of Richard and Rachel Sionis, raised as the heir to her father's business empire, the inheritor of her mother's socialite connections, and the sole target of their lofty expectations. Her childhood was spent receiving the finest education money could buy, mingling with the wealthiest and most influential of Gotham's next generation, and she despised every moment of it.

Ramona's parents put on the face of respectable, generous, and cultured pillars of society, yet had nothing but contempt and venom for their peers, especially the Waynes, whom they toadied to in public yet envied and hated in private. Ramona despised their deceptive, lying nature, even as she fell into the exact same habits, concealing her festering resentment towards her family and her "friends" beneath her own mask of empty charm and affability.

The sudden, unexpected, unresolved death of both of her parents allowed Ramona to inherit her father's business, but her desire to surpass him and compete directly with Wayne Enterprises drove the Janus Corporation deep into debt. Perhaps it might have ended there, but the victor decided to be magnanimous, and Bruce Wayne left his "good friend" with a tidy severance package and a face to face meeting asserting that it was nothing personal. Ramona took it, laughed the entire thing off, and went into an early retirement.

Carving a wooden mask from her father's Coffin, Ramona has entered Gotham's criminal underworld with a web of business connections and a single-minded desire to entirely ruin, destroy, and kill Bruce Wayne. That her talents carried over quite well to this new field is really just a bonus.

 

[Laplace]

LADY SHIVA


Pronouns: She/her
Age: 29​

Lady Shiva. Born Wu Song, now Wu Suwen. Her defining characteristic in her youth was that she took instruction from one of the few remaining martial temples in the mainland, the famed Huashan Temple. However, from this school of heroes, she could never amount to much. Her teachers were all pained of this fact, because she possessed an indisputable talent in analyzing and breaking down techniques. If she was able to put them in action, then she would be a once in a lifetime prodigy. However, she could not. Her body, her flesh, it was uncomfortable to her. It was distracting. Learning martial arts only made it ever more clear that she could not persist as a man.

Despite an explosive start, she soon fell from the regard of her fellows. Her teachers diverted their attentions to more able students. They advised her to quit. It's not like, they said, martial arts is needed for life nowadays. Being outside of the Jianghu is not so bad. Everyone who graduates here only goes on to work for the triads, anyway. And about this time, Bruce Wayne joined Huashan Temple, worked hard, and soon left with the recommendation letters written by abbots of Huashan. Wu Song left with nothing.

Her next months passed in a blur. Bar. Fight. Hospital. Bar. Fight. Hospital.

Her drunken pilgrimage to nowhere ended in the Black Cliffs in Hebei, where once Dongfang Bubai, that all-powerful eunuch once resided at the center of her Sun-Moon Cult, which was once the terror of the Jianghu. Her instructions to her all powerful art is quite simple: you have to castrate yourself first.

For Wu Song, already struggling to die, and for Wu Suwen, struggling to be born, this was the easiest exchange to make.

The sun rises in the east. Lady Shiva rises with it, undefeated.

She crushed Huashan. She broke Wudang over her knee. She went to Japan just to flex on the karate-men, and maintained an impressive streak in Thailand's arenas. But there's just one thing that sticks in her craw. That white guy who showed her up as a student in Huashan, what happened to him?

To settle old scores, and also to beat some money out of a triad's connections in America, she's going to Gotham.

Spoiler

Lady Shiva has an eye for biomechanics and can read people's body language, possessing a supernatural sense of what they can do next, as well as detect if people are lying via sensing their heart rate, smelling their perspiration, etc. She is also a master of almost every martial art, and those that she don't know, she can break down and adapt, mimic, and even master in the timeframe of a single fight. She also possesses a degree of superhuman physicality, being casually able to punch shallow holes in cement, lift her body weight off of the smallest leverage point, and other similar feats.

Her signature martial art is the use of needles as projectile weapons. While their range isn't all that, she can throw them with lethal force if they hit people's heads. She also prefers the explosive movements of the martial arts families of Northern China, delivering powerful kicks and full body strikes off of a variety of stances. She is also an Eagle Claw Master, having trained her grip strength to be able to gouge holes in thin sheet metal and rip flesh off of her opponents bodies.

 

[Dovahsith]

​

1) Name: Bane
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 28
Bio: Once upon a time, a young boy was lost and alone in a frightful world. Without parents or kin, he was forced to embrace the terror of his existence to survive.

In the depths of Peña Duro, the boy grew, taught by the criminals and political dissidents of Santa Prisca locked away to die. He became Bane, the King of Peña Duro. A classical education to match his voracious need for knowledge matched by the brutality of a life surrounded by the worst of criminals.

With the experimental Venom coursing through his veins, a gift from his overseers that granted superhuman strength and rage in exchange for a intense dependency on the drug, he grew strong, strong enough to finally break free of his cage. Outside of Peña Duro all he found were more walls, built by weak men to pen him in. Walls like laws and wealth and fear. He would tear them all down for he would never be a prisoner again. Not even to the waking shadow of his dreams. He would find his ways to bring them down. Guns, money, his own body twisted and shaped by the chemical poison flowing through him.

With a crew of hardened fellow escapees, he has found America a land of the wealthy and weak, ripe for the taking. And with his fortune, many things can be achieved, whether it be revenge upon his homeland or the destruction of the dark shadow that still haunts his childhood nightmares.​

​

2) Name: Joseph "Joe Chill" Chilton
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 48
Bio: Never a true member of a particular crime family, Joe Chill could be considered more of an associate. Taking jobs as they came with the quiet efficiency and lack of questions expected from a hired gun in Gotham who was useful enough to keep on the payroll. He had plenty of clients and the cash rolled in.

Carmine, Maroni, Falcone and a few others if you were smart enough to not ask for names. If you needed a nosy reporter silenced, a debt collected or perhaps a robbery gone wrong staged, Chill was the man you wanted.

He's gotten on in the years, no longer as spry on his feet. His peaceful retirement brought to an abrupt end as the Falcones crumbled and the streets became a warzone. But for those involved in the old way of things, he was a name you could rely on, if not exactly trust. Someone to rally behind to fight the the good old ways of doing things.

And when the world's gone crazy, maybe quiet and reliable is what you need.

 

[Scrivener]

PSYCHEDELIC​

Name: Lucy Caulder
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 30 (?)​

You've been looking for me, haven't you?

I suppose you're wondering how I found you. It wasn't hard at all. To be honest, I didn't even know someone was looking for me until I found out the police had resorted to hiring private investigators to investigate the bodies. After that I simply bought off your identity from one of Gotham's finest. You know, the one who you refused to take bribes from?

Ah. I can see the anger in your eyes. Don't worry. I'm not one to leave loose ends lying around. He's taking a well-deserved vacation at the bottom of the Atlantic, with his fingerprints and teeth plucked off.

I'm impressed, Detective. Looking at this… you've amassed quite the folder on me! Surprisingly accurate as well, for a man relying only on police records and semi-public information. Of course half of it is wrong; I'm not just a mere mercenary. Oh no, I'm here to distribute product. The cartels down south have been producing some new things. Did you know you could use horse tranquilizer to get high?

Still, impressive. You even managed to find the orphanage I came from, even though it was shut down later on charges of gross mismanagement.

But it still served its purpose in life. My parents dumped me, their "little freak" there, after all.

Don't look so sorry for me. I'm choking you by merely thinking. I have horns growing out of my skull! Nothing about me is normal. My birth, my life, who here can seriously say they've been trained by both Cártel de Sinaloa and a former member of the League of Shadows? Even my future death…

Do you want to know a secret? I hate working for the cartels. Some of them are fine people, I'm sure, but the organizations themselves lack a certain amount of tact. They're arrogant, overbearing, too controlling, and generally a pain to deal with. So I struck out on my own. Technically I'm still affiliated with them... but it's not like they can send one of their men after me.

I met a sicario in Texas once when I was young. He was old for a person in his line of work, with scars and rose tattoos lining his hands. He said to me that the reason he had survived for so long was because he treated his work as a game, for war was nothing more than another form of competition. The only difference was that the winner got to live another day.

So, Detective. Let's play a game. How would you like to die?

---

PROFILE
Psychedelic, real name Lucy Caulder, born in the 1980s to unknown parents. Orphaned at a young age. Faced bullying due to her physical deformities. Discovered the full extent of her psychic powers in the Riverside 511 incident, fled Gotham soon afterwards at the age of eleven. Entered the drug trade as a freelancer after crossing the Mexican border, subsequently became a sicario in the employ of the Sinaloa Cartel. Returned to the United States in December of 2009, arrived in Gotham on May 25th, 2010.

Psychedelic is a slightly cracked warmonger. Her ambition is only checked by the limits of her abilities.

NOTES ON POWERS
Psychedelic is a powerful, yet limited, telekinetic psychic thanks to the two small triangular horns that have erupted from her skull. These horns allow her to project telekinetic energy within a five meter radius, allowing her to manipulate small objects and lift tremendously heavy weights. This power most often manifests in the form of "vectors", invisible arms of psionic energy that can move, bludgeon, crush, or cut up any offending thing with immense force, or shield her from bullets or shrapnel.

Her hair is naturally pink. No one knows why.

 

[DeMarcheese]

"If he takes off the mask, you can ask him about the
monocle sure... but never say anything about the nose!"​

Name: Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot (AKA 'The Penguin')
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 40 (born 1970)

Bio: Born with a birth defect that gave him a unique beak-like nose, Oswald was dropped to the ground by his horrified father. This caused the infant a long-lasting lesion that forces him to walk like a penguin. Growing as a small and chubby child, he was victim of relentless bullying and other abuses at home and beyond. Mental and physical trauma festered to the point on awakening sociopathic tendencies, mythomania and violent impulses. Often left alone to fend for himself, he managed to befriend birds at the local park, developing over the years a deep interests in them that ended in a borderline obsession.

While the Cobblepots were once one of the most prominent and wealthy families of Gotham, by the time Oswald was born they had long fall from grace. Scrapping by to survive, young Oswald soon found himself amid criminals and by the time of the Wayne's murders he was already working as a bartender in one of Carmine's Falcone locals.

As a bartender and later a drug dealer, Oswald spent long painful years listening and learning from those around him. Dent and Gordon's relentless campaign and the coming of the Batman made Oswald come to the realization that Gotham's mafia had it too good for too long. Entrenched in their belief of invulnerability, they failed to cultivate a positive reputation among the desperate and the dispossessed. Shunning this veritable army of potential recruits with wanton violence and brazen arrogance, both Carmine and Maroni also shunned potential partners in the powers-that-be.

Oswald promised that one day, he will give Gotham a first-class criminal. One with the same ruthless strength of those that came before... but polite and charming for those in the gutter who wanted respect, with a business-like mind to cater the delicate palates of the high society.
Today Falcone lies dead and Oswald, now a lieutenant of the family, stands on the verge of realizing his ambition.

He only needs but to reach out and take everything for himself.

 

[Azecreth]

​

Name: Zeus (Maximilian "Maxie" Agathokles)
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: Younger than Cronos, older than you (68)
Bio: Born to the son of a Greek immigrant to the United States, Maximilian grew up with an unremarkable childhood. He ended up inheriting his father's shipping business, and while he was never on the same level of the old families of Gotham, he nonetheless inherited a sizable fortune as well.

But all good things come to an end. The end of the Cold War and the birth of globalism, the change in global markets, new competitors, and government investigations resulted in the fortunes of his company falling. This left a great burden on Maximilian, who nonetheless worked as hard as he could to maintain what his family had built. It was in this time of great hardship that he suffered a further blow, with his wife being killed in a tragic accident.

Subsumed by grief, Maximilian withdrew from the world for months. When he re-emerged, everything had changed. Some say he had a mental break from stress and grief. Others claim it was because of bad experiences with psychotropic substances. Regardless of the reason, there was not doubting the result. Maximilian no longer believed himself to be a man. Instead he was a Greek God, Zeus, descended upon the Earth to rekindle the faith of the mortals.

Needless to say most people did not believe this, and he was delicately removed from a leadership position within his company before he could cause a PR disaster. This did not stop him however as he rebranded to a Greek theme, redecorating his estate and marshaling his resources. If the people did not believe then he would simply need to rekindle their faith. By any means necessary.

 

[BrainyPicker]

---

Spoiler: Joker Application

THE JOKER!
Age: Crazy clown age?
Pronouns: He/Him
Bio: ​

No one can truly say where the "Clown Prince of Crime" came from, though many definitely speculate on his origins (and it did have something to do with Ace Chemicals), but for the most part the maniac seems to have just showed up one day threatening Gotham's water and has been terrorizing the city with his many crimes since then.

Well, that and getting thwarted by a grumpy vigilante wearing a bat costume too, though Joker himself does make sure to get a few good ones in against the Batman.

All this and more is thanks to both Joker's surprising athleticism, often moving faster than expected to & even acrobatics, and also being very crafty, often doing his best to stack the deck in his favor & making use of zany gadgets (such as his iconic Laughing Gas, Spray Flower, Throwing Cards, Boxing glove, etc.).

Nowadays with the old gangs going the way of the dinosaurs and all the loonies coming out to play, Joker is looking to make his own play at organized crime (if you can really say organized) and after all, who says crime doesn't pay?

But whatever ends up happening, Gotham City will tremble in fear of the Joker!

HEHEHAHAHAAA!​

---

DOCTOR PHOSPHORUS!
Age: 35
Pronouns: He/Him
Bio: ​

Once known as Alexander James Sartorius, he was a scientist trying to cure cancer using nuclear fusion but he needed funding. Enter Rupert Thorn, industrialist & reputed crime figure, who made a deal with Sartorius to fund the research, which Thorn also planned to sell the info to an oppressive regime.

When Sartorius learned about that last detail and after some convincing by his wife, he decided to try falsifying his research. Unfortunately, when Thorn found out about this he framed Sartorius for: "the age-old story of the nuclear scientist who goes crazy, murders his family(Wife&Son) and then commits suicide by atomizing himself with nuclear energy".

All of this, but especially the part about atomization via nuclear energy, led to the creation of the green flaming radioactive skeleton, Doctor Phosphorus.

Who would immediately go on to kill Rupert Thorn, the rest of Thorn's family, and the 3 henchmen who did the dirty work against him.

Phosphorus would then proclaim to all that "From this moment forward, everything that was Rupert Thorne's now is mine. His money, his territory, his drug business, everything. Got it?".

Alas, not everyone is enthusiastic about suddenly working for a skeleton who has just recently killed their boss.

So if Phosphorus really wants to take everything that Thorn once had, he's certainly going to need to work for it.

---

 

[Theaxofwar]

Firefly
​

Name: Gardenia Lynch aka Firefly
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 28
Bio:
Gardenia Lynch always knew how her life would go. Firefly Construction was a company that had been founded by her great grandfather, and it had stayed in the family ever since. Her father had been somewhat disappointed by his lack of sons, but as his eldest Gardenia had proven eager to take over the family business. She just hadn't expected to do so at the age of 25.

Her father had died in something as simple as a workplace accident, leaving Gardenia to take over Firefly Constructions. She'd done the best she could, but she was too young and inexperienced to do more than financially tread water. Then, the financial crisis hit, dragging her account into the red as surely as concrete shoes in a river.

Gardenia had been desperate. She had two younger sisters to take care of, one in highschool and one in college, and her mother suffered from chronic pain that left her unable to work and in constant need of medicine. So when one of her clients had offered her a cash bonus to ensure that the building would experience a tragic fire after construction finished, there had been little choice but to accept. And when that client put her in contact with some of his friends, well, she hadn't been in a position to turn down the steady supply of cash.

From there, well, things grew out of control. There was, as it turned out, a lot of money to be had in arson, especially with traditional crime hurting so severely. Indeed, it was the Batman himself who gave her the idea for the next expansion of her criminal enterprise. She couldn't keep building faulty buildings forever and expect to get away with it, but if some masked psycho burned down some prime real estate, who could blame her?

It was from this thought that the figure who would eventually, rather ironically, be dubbed Firefly was born. Donning a flame retardant outfit and wielding a homemade flamethrower, Firefly made it her mission to burn Gotham to the ground… for the right price, of course.

 

[Carol]

Name: Clock King (William Tockman)
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 43
Bio: William has always been meticulous. He schedules his life down to the last minute. It's a quirk of his from childhood. His parents weren't long for the world, and they left him in the care of his sick sister, Meriel. The diagnosis on her condition was poor. He didn't know how long they'd be together. It made him afraid. So he kept the time.

He'd been doing the right thing for forty years. An accountant in Star City, he never took a penny that wasn't his, never argued, never so much as offered the slightest complaint. He wanted to be someone Meriel would be proud of. And his reward for it was the Great Recession. Star City became too expensive to live in. He moved with Meriel to Gotham.

William found his mind great at remembering insults then. The bank he worked for belonged to the mob. Despite the respectable front they kept, he saw how corrupt the innards were. The financial squeeze put on the city made them even more brutal and careless. It was the second point that he took interest in when the doctors said he had cancer. The disease broke his self-restraint.

There was a terrible robbery at William's bank late one night. The robbers responsible had clocked the interval between the guards perfectly. No alarms were tripped as the vaults were stripped clean. He didn't complain when the bank fired him. After all, they had paid him enough to start his treatment and metamorphosis as the Clock King.

His accoutrements are his crew of bank robbers, the wonderful expanse of his mind, and the antique costume he has for presentation.
​

---

Name: Ravager (Rose Wilson)
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 22
Bio: To be a child of Slade Wilson is to be drafted for war from birth. America's preeminent assassin had accumulated many enemies during his bloody career. Since Deathstroke was too slippery of a target, his enemies would often move on those close to him instead. Two sons already died for his sins.

Rose's mother, Lili Worth, knew this. It's why she kept Rose away from him in New York City. It's why she trained the girl to fight when isolation alone wouldn't cut it anymore. It's why Lili was gunned down by Slade's half-brother, Wade DeFarge, when he went on his crusade to make her father's life hell.

Rose tried to be normal after the incident. She went into foster care and was adopted by the Madison family in Gotham. For a while, she thought little of Slade and her mother's warnings about him. It all unraveled when a hit was ordered on her.

The assassins executed her adopted family when she was away and waited for her to return. They informed her of the standing bounty on her head thinking little of Rose. Upon sight of the corpses, however, she let loose the full effects of the super soldier serum in her blood and would kill for the first time. The loss of one eye in the fight granted her limited precognition—her body was driven to instinctively predict from the stimulants what the next move of her opponents would be.

After the maddening haze wore off, she realized that she was always a Wilson. The underworld would never let her escape it. So the only way forward was to conquer it for her own peace. Her sights were on Gotham first.​

 

[Princess_Hex]

Sidewinder
She/Her
Age: 43

Bio:
Have you ever been alone?

Not in the sense of there not being other people around, not in the sense of having some personal time, no. Being really, truly, fundamentally alone.

The kind of alone you feel when you sit in a crater that was everything you ever knew.

It breaks you, you know? The human brain isn't designed for that kind of emptiness, to exist in a space where there should be everything, only to find nothing. You start hearing things, seeing things. Your body demands warmth and comfort, you start tasting the air around you for any hint that maybe, just maybe you aren't alone. Any source of heat, any possible sigjn of life, has you lunging towards it desperately. Then, at long last, when you finally find hope again, you curl around it and never, ever let go.

Sara Stesa Sulato lost her warm blood a long time ago.

Few knew of such a fate though, as the Sara Sulato they knew was by all appearances a well adjusted, personable young woman who excelled in her studies. A particularly keen interest in herpetology and biocemistry were not in any way red flags, nor were her seemingly chance encounters with some characters who would later turn out to be quite a bit shadier than expected. Chief among these brief associations was Kirk Langstrom, who taught her much that she would use later.

Yet through all this time there were signs. Sara could never be left alone in a lab or she would get anxious and upset. She had a bad habit of becoming far too clingy with her colleagues after working together for long enough. Praise and attention could brighten her day and set her up to be productive and help the office, but its absence would send her into moody spirals. Eventually, these small annoyances and irregularities piled up and Sara lost her lab position.

On the streets, kicked out of the community she had spent her life working her way into, Sara was alone again. This time, she was surrounded by crowds of people. People who didn't see her. People who only made her more alone.

Something broke that day, and it could never be fixed.

It's impossible to say for sure where Sara's transformation started or what caused it. Was she truly cold blooded for all this time, or was that a figure of speech? when did her tongue get so long, when did it get forked? when did she get fangs? slitter eyes? Yet when she made her first appearance ast the villain Sidewinder the change was obvious.

No longer was Sara Sulato a human, her entire body had been given over to her precious reptialies. A long, powerful tail replaced her lower body, with patches of scales even present on her upper body. Fangs replaced her normal teeth, slitted eyes capable fo sensing heat and movement even in the darkest of night, and a forked tongue to taste the air. The Sidewinder quickly became a venomous serpent slithering through the streets of Gotham.

At first she had trouble making headway, but soon ehr abilities began to manifest themselves. Not only did her terrifying appearance assist with intimidating the weak willed, but her deadly venom could put down even the toughest thug. The ability to strike fast and hard with liughtning speed was handy in a street fight, even if she had trouble with sustained offence, but her real asset in the fight was the ability to dodge. Sidewinder earned her name by being impossible to pin down or land a solid hit against, always sliding away from any attempts to do real damage.

With her local rivals falling one by one, Sidewinder began to focus on what mattered most, making a gang. Her gang is a collection of eclectic oddballs and weirdos, even by gang standards, and Sidewinder dotes on them endlessly. For rather than a crime syndicate, in Sidewinder's broken mind she sees herself as building a family. So every recruit, every piece of territory, is one more thing she holds tightly in her coils, one more thing held to her heart.

One day, she dreams of wrapping herself around all of Gotham, clutching every man, woman, and child as if they were her precious treasures. Holding them so tightly, that some might even break.

It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that Sara is never alone.

Ever again.