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[Jun. 23rd, 2010|08:48 pm] |
Player Information
Name: Gorram Wolf or GW
Age: 37
Messenger handles?: Gorram Wolf on AIM
E-mail: gorramwolf@gmail.com
Standard Time: PST
Was Your Character Held: Yes
How Often Should You Post?: At least once a month, but as often as you can.
Character Information
Name: T.O. Morrow Will be going under the fake name of Tom Morrison
Age: Well over a hundred, but looking in his mid-40's.
Fandom: DC Comics
Class Taught: Cybernetics( and the role it plays in society)
Housing: One bedroom
Point In Fandom Taken From: Recent canon, after last appearance.
Brief History: Tomek was part of a Polish family that escaped Nazi Germany to America. There he prospered, a bored kid. At a young age, inspired, he invented a television that allowed him to view the future, and used that to steal ideas for inventions, which allowed him to pull off crimes of one kind or another.
He invented androids, ray guns, even time manipulation devices. He created the Red Tornado, a time machine, tried to take over the world, and even joined the Secret Society of Super-Villains. As with all such villains, he inevitably was defeated, but he usually had a back up plan and escaped. Along the way, he reformed occasionally, being a professor, and taught many of the greatest minds in the modern DCU.
Most of his life was spent in various stages of villainy, but he eventually fully tired of it, and slowly began to partially reform, enough to stop trying to take over the world anyway. He still doesn't like heroes and sometimes participates in criminal escapades for money or curiosity's sake. He often gets bored with life.
An odd man, he now spends his time staying underground and inventing. His one wish is to never be bored again, but he has some mental issues, and at times, he just wants to... make some noise.
PB: George Clooney
Writing Sample
He balanced, eyes unfocused, mind set. For all the world, he appeared to be vegging out, half asleep, mindlessly balancing on the chair he had been working on for weeks. His motions were lazy, and yet he never left that place of perfect balance, the chair back on it's back legs and barely shifting as he stood there, legs bent, body twisted slightly.
He had fallen forward and backward and off of it many times at first, and guards had laughed when he kicked it against the walls, or simply down, when he leaped against walls, or just hit one or another, seemingly driven mad with frustration.
This new behavior made them laugh, seeing him as broken, as silly, for the previous times he had been there he had attempted to break out quite a few times, always stopped by the riot suppressant smoke. But this time, he was quiet.
He ignored the noises, and the cold air, and every comment by the guards. He ignored the guards who came to make comments and left. He ignored food when it came. He ignored everything. Except of course, for balancing, and thinking, and possessing the chair.
When the warden had enough of it and finally sent guards in to make him eat, it was a bored group of two, for he'd not done anything remarkable or threatening for months. And so when they spoke to him, and told him to get down, it was a startled pair of guards who looked at his eyes focusing on theirs, and saw his smile.
One guard reached for an alarm, but it was too late. T.O. Morrow moved, seemingly slightly, and the chair flipped forward, even as he landed behind it and delivered a kick. It was exactly like the kicks he had delivered the chair before, and none had thought anything of it, but this kick, which he had figured out by trial and error, bounced off one guard's temple and into the other's stomach, stunning one to near unconsciousness, and the other to retching.
And he smiled as he strolled out into the hall, stepped sideways into a ladder room, and slid down the ladder. The room was open in that moment, since it always was, for maintenance, and he slid through even as it started to close. His walk seemed unfocused, and his eyes did not latch on anything, but when he walked, it was with a purpose. A delivery guard, with special equipment, made his same time every week arrival, with several guards in accompaniment, to a side door, and was surprised to see T.O. Morrow there. A Tomorrow Man who now held one of the guard's staser rods, which swiftly set off the riot suppressant smoke.
The guards fell, but he simply strolled out, having built up an immunity over many exposures. and when he climbed into the armored car and drove off, his eyes were focused, and his smile was a smirk.
And the T.O Morrow was anything but quiet as he sang loudly to himself. |
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