Post by Deleted on May 10, 2012 19:39:28 GMT -5
~ Non RP Information ~
Your Name: Loki
How did hear about us:
Other Characters: The Liesmith,
~ Vital Stats ~
Charles Victor Sage Szasz
Type: Canon
Codename: The Question
Aliases:No-face, The human enigma, Charlie
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Faction: Justice LEague, L.A.W.
Family: None
~ Skills ~
Powers: During a particularly tough time in Hub City, the Question sought out to learn shamanistic techniques which applied to his city. He used these skills and techniques to "feel" the city and better understand it.
Weaknesses: Human being, Smoker. Nuff-said.
Abilities: Genius-Level Intellect: The Question possesses genius intelligence, and has an extremely unpredictable way of thinking. He can make a weapon out of common objects and often uses his mind to win fights.
Master Combatant: He was trained by Richard Dragon in Kung-Fu, and had exceptional martial arts skills. Easily capable of incapacitating large groups of criminals and has knocked out trained policemen and soldiers with minimal effort. Vic has shown enough skill to take down two vicious attack-dogs and their highly-trained owner spontaneously, one after the other.
Master Detective/Investigation: Said to be the second greatest detective after Batman. One of many, he has a superior inquisitive mind and has years of experience as an investigative reporter as well as his life as The Question.
Indomitable Will: His training and lifestyle demanded much determination, and he was rarely known to give up or surrender especially in physical confrontations.
Intimidation: He has on many occasions frightened criminals into giving him information he wants, and sometimes resorts to methods that many heroes shy from, like threatening a killer with a chainsaw. His opponents often fear him due to the (arguably true) rumors of his insanity and ruthless tactics.
Master Acrobat: Although not quite on par with people like Nightwing, he has shown to be a proficient acrobat, and has used this skill to survive a fatal fall by rebounding off building sides and somersaulting to create more drag. He, like many other non-powered vigilantes, can get around by jumping from rooftop to rooftop
Weapons: Anything he can get his hands on, from the common paper clip to computer monitors, knives, subwoofers. Virtual Macguyver.
~ Appearance ~
Height: 6'2''
Weight: 185lbs
Hair Color: Orange, Black when mask is applied
Eye Color: green
Costume:
Though he is also notorious for just putting on the mask and running about in a tee-shirt and jeans.
~ Psychological Profile ~
Personality: The Question, a right-wing, anti-government conspirator, would fight crime in with his own brand of black and white justice, letting wrongdoers know that crime would no longer be tolerated. He is driven by some unexplainable force to find and experience every truth in the world.
The Question, an identity that is both his blessing and his curse. When he is the Question he is free to do as he wishes, he is outside the law. He can find his answers. But those answers only lead to darker questions. What is it like to kill a man? What is it like to die? The Question is a man obsessed by the darkness in humanity, the existential quandaries of the world. He has stepped into the shadows and is only holding on to goodness by a finger.
But he will never slip completely. In those dark questions, he has found peace. In knowing humanity, his previously violent soul has calmed. He believes in the redemption of Man, and the overwhelming power to do what is right. Yes there is temptation, but that is not all. That is not the only option. He is the sort of righteous man who might be a white knight if his soul wasn’t quite so stained.
History: Victor Sage was born Charles Victor Szasz, and grew up an orphan who had a reputation as a troublemaker. Szasz prided himself in defiantly enduring the physical abuse of the Catholic orphanage where he was housed. Though he managed to get into college, higher learning did not mellow his violent tendencies. Some time during college, he brutally beat a drug dealer for giving him LSD, which had caused Sage to doubt his own senses under its influence.
After graduating from college (where he nursed an unrequited crush on fellow student Lois Lane) Sage made his mark as a highly outspoken and aggressive reporter with a reputation for obnoxiousness in Hub City. He then moved to television journalism, which eventually led him to investigate Dr. Arby Twain. This particular story would alter the course of Sage's life permanently.
Sage was approached by his former professor, a scientist named Aristotle ("Tot")Rodor, who told Sage about an artificial skin called Pseudoderm, which Rodor had co-developed with Dr. Twain based on the notes of Gotham criminal Bart Magan and research into Gingold, the chemical responsible for the Elongated Man's powers.
Pseudoderm was intended to work as an applied skin-like bandage with the help of a bonding gas, but had an unforeseen toxicity which was fatal when applied to open wounds. Though Rodor and Twain agreed to abandon the project and parted ways, Professor Rodor later discovered that Dr. Twain planned to proceed with an illegal sale of the invention to Third World nations, despite the risk to human health.
Sage resolved to stop him but had no way of going after Dr. Twain without exposing himself. Rodor suggested that Sage use a mask made of Pseudoderm to cover his famous features. Disguised by the Pseudoderm mask and armed with information, Sage eventually caught up with Dr. Twain, stopped the transaction, and extracted a confession from him. He then left Twain bound in Pseudoderm in an ironic twist. On television, Vic Sage reported on Dr. Twain's illegal activities.
With his first venture a success, Sage decided that this new identity would be useful for future investigations. He continued to work with Professor Rodor, who supplied the Pseudoderm and eventually modified the bonding gas, giving it the ability to alter the color of Sage's hair and clothing, as well. Vic became good friends with "Tot," who became a mentor to him in both of his identities.
Rp sampleIn a dark alleyway deep in the wretched regions of Gotham City, the prey scrambled to a halt and whirled around, eyes wide and breathing in sharp, ragged gasps as he took only a half dozen steps the way he had come. The sound of a car horn made him jump noticeably, and he didn't try to move after that, entire body hunched as if bracing himself for a coming storm.
Crouched on a ledge high above the frightened prey, the hunter watched.
Of course Rick had ran, they always ran, even when the only guarantee such an action offered was to prologue their final judgment. Now he had managed to somehow work himself into a blind corner, an alley with no exit, and though all he had to do was go back the way he came, blind fear kept the dealer rooted in place, watching the sliver of street and clearly expecting the vigilante to step into sight at any moment. Like a child unable to leave his bedroom because he feared passing the Boogeyman-infested closet next to his door...
If only every night was this easy. Snorting, Vic shook his head and considered his approach carefully, eyes flitting from one end of the alley to the other. That this might be a trap had crossed his mind, but try as he might he couldn't see any signs of ambush or hidden gunmen... as hard as it was to believe, this poor little dealer was just very stupid. A shame, since he had been planning to rely on the little man for information... one could only hope he had been able to follow basic instructions.
If Sage was going to get any further tonight, he would need to get a name.
If this dealer hoped to make it through the night in one peace, he would need to give one.
Stifling a sigh, Sage planned his descent to street level, muscles tensing as he prepared himself for another wretched conflict.
"Well." The wry voice behind the dealer had Rick freezing in place, eyes widening as his entire body seemed to give one great twitch. "You ran very, very fast trying to get away from me. Flattering. I should be thrilled."
As Rick turned, already beginning to tremble just a little, a tall figure clad in a suit, hat and trench coat stepped from the shadows, coming into what little light filtered in from the streets. At first, one might have thought his face concealed by the shadows beneath the brim of his hat, but as the darkness cleared, the truth was revealed; he had no face.
"Somehow, though," the Question finished flatly, "I'm not."
"C'mon, man," Rick mumbled, glancing away as he backed up slowly, scratching his arms restlessly. "I'm sorry about it, I am, but... you dunno what you're asking me!"
"Hmm, I don't...?" shaking his head, the Question approached slowly, hands in his jacket pockets, looking perfectly relaxed as he closed the distance between them slowly, gradually. "I'm disappointed. I thought we had a deal, the two of us. You stop peddling your trash on the street corners and find me your supplier, and I don't turn you in to the cops. A golden opportunity to duck out of a lot of jail time. Now I find out you're trying to hide from me... you shouldn't have. For your sake."
"L-look, doesn't matter what you t-try," Rick replied, trying to inject some firmness into his voice and failing utterly. "Whatever you do to me, they'll do w-worse!"
"Let's test that theory." All at once the faceless man's steps became quicker, bolder, as he all but charged the peddler.
Panicking, Rick swung, a fair hay maker that might have caught an average man flat-foot and flat-nosed. For his attacker, however, he might as well have tried to tickle in his own defense, and almost too quick for the eye to track, the Question's arm snapped up and to the side, all but brushing aside the offending arm. Leather gloved fingers closed around the peddler's wrist, and before Rick even realized his assailant had vanished, the Question was behind him, free hand pressing between the man's wiry shoulder blades as he forced the dealer's arm behind his back. Rick gave a strangled gasp and tried to pull away, but a jolt of pain in his shoulder convinced him that it might be wiser to keep still
"Do you know how many bones are in the human arm?" The Question asked silkily and began to slowly, inexorably bend Rick's wrist backwards, feeling the tendons and bones straining to near breaking. "Neither do I. Let's start counting."
Rick squealed, "I don't Know! God Don't Do it please!"
The pressure increased just a fraction as Rick continued to babble that it was all he could offer, that he knew nothing else, that he didn't want to get involved in this anymore, please oh please just let him go. Finally, though, the pain vanished as the gloved hand suddenly released him, an almost casual shove sending Rick tumbling to the pavement. As the peddler cradled his arm, whimpering, the trench-coat-clad vigilante stepped right over and past him, dusting off his hands and sparing not so much as a glance towards his unwilling informant.
"Run" the Question muttered, hands sliding into his pockets as he began to move deeper into the alleyway, towards the same fire escape he had used to flank the drug peddler in the first place. "The cops are waiting for you in your home."
"What-" Rick's confusion turned to agitation as he took a half step forward. "But you told me-!"
"I lied. Mostly." Hopping up, he caught the bottom rung of the fire escape's ladder and lifted himself up with one arm, climbing to the lowest platform before turning his attention back to the peddler. He knew that be Batman was there, just had not found the need to address him yet.
He watching from his slightly hanging position as the little fish ran out the alley like a frightened rabbit or some animal equivalent.
"Let the little fish go an they always lead you to the Big fish, You following or watching?" He asked his fellow vigilante almost rhetorically as he climbed the ladder of the fire escape. This was Gotham, not Hub city, At least he had the decency to ask the Bat to join rather than telling him to buzz off.
