I just wanted to say that I cannot help but read every line of your writing in Mark Hamill's Joker voice, with occasional hysterical laughter interjected.

And maybe a matching avatar, I suppose, if you're feel generous? I have an eye for graphic design, but I am vastly out of practice with the technical skills. Too much 3D animation in recent years I suppose!

I have no preference for who tackles this, and I've got a whole bunch of stock here for folks to tear in to.

Images are in high res, since everyone prefers to work with high res!

<!-- m --><a class="postlink" href="http://imgur.com/a/Kp0pW#0">http://imgur.com/a/Kp0pW#0</a><!-- m -->

Also, if you want a feel for the character for some reason, here are some vids.

EDIT: God damn it, it resized them. Let me get the original locations I suppose.

I pulled these from comics because there's nothing really on the internets for him.

Could somebody make me a sig!? I'd be eternally thankful.

I need a Signature... And icon thingy?

Bald guy, red armor with black outline.... Serious or intrigued face... Yes someone? DAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Character Name: The Joker
Character Source: DC Comics/Arkham video games/Various movies.

Character History: This particular Joker has a mix of histories and inspiration from all of the sources listed above. He was taken after the events of 'The Killing Joke' comic, after he is arrested for kidnapping Commissioner Gordon.

STATS:
ATK: 1
DEF: 4
SPD: 3
TEC: 2

Starting Proficiencies:
Ranged and Impair = 1800

Starting Powers:
None

Starting Moves:
Double Pistols (300) (Ranged) - Two basic M9 pistols that can be fired while moving, jumping or diving.

Laughing Gas Level 1 (300) (Ranged/Impair) - Green gas in small circular grenade like containers that cause the enemy to break into laughter. It seems harmless, but prolonged exposure will cause difficulty breathing and choking, but ultimately doesn't last long enough to be fatal.

Total moves = 600

Total Spent = 2400



Writing example:
From Anyria, on Chubbs. Account: Alura/Rayne


"I got it! I got it!"

The other teenagers scattered around the field came to a stop as the mayor's daughter suddenly lept forward at the leather ball in the air, running full speed towards where she anticipated it would land. The only other person near her was the defender, another slender female, who was doing a decent job of keeping up with her opponent. But the purple-haired Rayne used tunnel-vision to block her out, focusing entirely on catching the game-winning ball for her class' team. It wouldn't have been such a dramatic moment if not for the fact that the Bluebirds were down by two, and this five-point impossible catch would be a huge comeback win for the usual second-placers.

It felt like it was so far away, so the defender held back a bit; there was no way Rayne was going to make it to the ball. But still she ran across the field towards the goal zone, as if she actually stood a chance. That was when the crowd along the sidelines noticed the spark at the violet-topped girl's wrist, and the speed of her legs starting to increase. Rayne's eyes squinted as she located the ball in the air, her speed increasing as she left the defender in the dust. It seemed like she still might not make it, but the expert Jumpball player lept into the air, her height increased by the momentum from her speed, and allowed the ball to touch her fingers. She brought the ball down to her bosom, holding it against her chest as she fell backwards against the grass. By the time she had hit the ground and rolls backwards onto her knees, the defender appeared with a frown across her face, panting out her protest. "You cheated!" she accused between breaths. "You should be disqualified!"

Rayne was hardly listening to her. The slender teenager just stood up, her once-ponytailed mane falling out of the confines of her hair-tie after a hard fought match. She held the Jumpball between her arm and her hip, grinning at the sight of her celebrating team behind the sore loser, running at her. Before the losing player could protest further, both of them were swamped by the victorious Bluebirds. Rayne let out a squeal of cheer as two of her friends lifted her upwards onto their shoulders, both of her hands pumping into the air. One hand held the winning catch: a beaten up leather globe that turned the typical runner-ups into winners. The Babylon Bluebirds had beaten the Elmont Capitols from New Vesaria to avenge their previous losses, going from second place to the reigning champions. And it was all because of one catch.

"Congratulations Bluebirds, you are the Elmont Jumpball Champions!" Came the deep voice of the league's commisioner. "For the first time ever, the Ivory Tower Trophy is going to the town of Babylon!"

The crowd, large for a small sporting event, had begun to rush the field. Rayne was too lost in the moment to think about what she had done to secure the win: a whole seasons of blood, sweat and tears and the Bluebirds had finally become champions. She took the trophy as it was passed up to her and lifted it up above her head with the game ball. She screamed again cheerfully, just to get the excitement out of her body. It didn't work.

Nothing could upset her now.. There was nothing that could ruin her mood now.



Twenty-four hours later, Rayne was standing in the office her father, the mayor of the large town of Babylon. The trip home from the capital had been one of the funnest experienced of the season; getting to prank on the coach and enjoy her last little get-together with her team. They stayed up through-out the carriage ride to joke around and do what normal teenager do (something they had been unable to do with the seriousness of the game-planning). For the first time in a long time, Rayne felt less like the mayor's daughter and more like a simple make-up-loving, boy-gossipping young lady, giggling late into the night with her friend.

But now she stood in her house uniform, in front of the disappointed look that she could have sworn her father practiced on a regular basis. Her black and red outfit was smoothed and ironed, as if the maids had anticipated she would require it when summoned to her father's office. Even her hair, wrapped up in a neat purple bun, was created specifically to make her look less like a tomboy, and more like a politician's daughter.

"You used your crystal," said Mayor Babylon. He held up the round orb that his daughter usually kept in her bracelet. Her face flushed red and she looked down, deliberately avoiding contact like a pet who had been caught doing something they shouldn't. "In the middle of the capital, in front of a hundred spectators, you used magic to win a stupid game." She opened her mouth to protest, but he put a hand up, silencing her before she began. "Do you understand how embarassing that would be for this family if the only daughter to the Lordship of this town was caught cheating?"

"I didn't mean to!" She lied, but was doing her best to cover her tracks. "I just reacted! You don't understand, Dad, we had to win! They were being so mean! And this was my last year with the Bluebirds! I wanted to look good for the scouts!"

Her father 'clicked' his gums, making an annoyed sound at the idea of scouting. "I didn't even want you to join this silly trend, Rayne. You should be getting ready for higher education, getting you ready for marriage. Instead you're out there looking like a boy, and on top of that, you're cheating"

Once again, Rayne's eyes downcasted to the wood floor. She didn't really have a retaliation that wouldn't get her further into trouble, so it was best not to say anything. She knew he wouldn't listen when she spoke about not wanting to marry young, nor go to any instution to learn a trade. She wanted to compete...and the eighteen year old was looking at her first potential professional year in Jumpball if the scouts liked what they saw.

"Rayne," said the single father, "I want you to be happy. I do. But...there comes a point when father simply knows best. You're applying for college. Here in Elmont, close to home."

The girl's face drained for a moment. It was like all of the excitement that she had experienced over the last day was getting sucked out of her body. She had just won an amatuer championship match and led her team to their biggest victory ever...and he was punishing her? There was only one thing she could think of asking.

"Are you ever proud of me?!" She half-screamed, causing her father to make an expecting face, as if he knew her 'quiet' act was just that. Suddenly, she was became the rebellious daughter that he knew, and in a moment she would storm out. "I just brought home the biggest trophy this stupid family has ever gotten and you're making me go to some dumb school to I can make you look good! Well I'm not going! You can't make me!"

She spun around on her heels and did exactly as he expected. Her father just remained at his desk, thinking about her reaction, but not looking particularly bothered. The door slammed behind her, and all he could hear behind it was some very un-ladylike words coming from the other side.

[float=right][/float]Location/Role: As a former ruler of a confederation of various peoples, Thrall serves as a mediator for many of the non-human populations that live inside Minas Tirith and throughout all of Camelot. While he is most often found inside the capital city, Thrall makes frequent visits to the autonomous settlements throughout Camelot. In this sense, he has become an unofficial ambassador to the non-human settlements of Camelot.

Story: Born a slave, Thrall lived a harsh life before an opportunity allowed him to escape. Early in his life, his people—the orcs—had lost a war with humans and been cut off from their ancestral homeland. Isolated and suffering from withdrawal from a demonic taint (the same taint that had turned them from shamans into the savage and bloodthirsty creatures that poured from the Dark Portal), the orcs had been locked up in internment camps by the humans.

Free from the humans who had found him as a baby, Thrall visited the camps, learning the history of his people and of orcs trying to reclaim the lost ways. Thrall met and befriended Grom Hellscream before he found the clan to which his parents had belonged—the Frostwolves. Under their tutelage, Thrall learned the old shamanistic ways of the orcs. Thrall became the first orc accepted by the spirits, signaling a new beginning for his people.

Around this time, an old orc arrived and provoked Thrall into combat by insulting the young orc’s pride. Thrall defeated the old orc, who wound up being the former warchief, Ogrim Doomhammer. With Grom Hellscream, the three orcs raided the internment camps, freeing the prisoners. When Doomhammer perished, Thrall was named the new Warchief.

After freeing his people, Thrall led the orcs across the sea to Kalimdor, where they would soon be drawn into a conflict with humans, night elves, and demons. Thrall sided with old enemies and even battled the ruler of the Burning Legion before the demons were defeated. In the aftermath, Thrall founded a new city, nation, and Horde, which he would rule in a fair and respected manner.

After a few years of rule, Thrall arrived in the Omniverse at a point when the Kingdom was deeply embroiled in a fight with Diablo. Immediately seeing the danger of demon rampaging unchecked in this strange world, Thrall joined the Kingdom, lending his shamanistic powers (including elemental powers and a deep connection with the spirit realm) and skill with axe and hammer to their fight.

From the start, Thrall has always been a champion for the non-humans in the Kingdom. He came to work closely with Zul’jin, a troll from the same universe as him. Thrall’s influence helped to placate the somewhat unstable nature of the troll leader and his growing number of followers. The events surrounding the bloody exodus of the trolls from the Kingdom is mired in racial hate and politics, but it is known that Thrall refused to take part in the attack on the trolls and prevented any orc from doing so. Although he received some flak for this act, Thrall nevertheless remained in high standings with the Kingdom as the war with Diablo drew to a close.

When the Underverse was sealed off from the rest of the Omniverse, Thrall continued to serve as an ambassador for the varied non-human races living in Camelot. His calm yet powerful presence has made him vital for many reasons, and he is present at nearly all interactions between the Kingdom and the Empire.

Thrall was the Kingdom representative during the Scramble, an event that saw many primes flood into the Omniverse, and he remained in the Nexus opposite of King Bradley for many months thereafter. He only returned when it became clear that the tide of primes had abated.

[float=right][/float]Location/Role: King Bradley (the title is an honorific rather than official title) serves, in many ways, as the official ‘face’ of the Empire’s administration. While the Emperor is by no means a recluse or an uncharismatic man, Bradley has a certain something about him that makes him popular with even some of the people who would prefer to see the entire administration go up in flames. As such, Bradley is the most public, high-ranking figure in the Empire. Only Dredd has more street time (and for completely opposite reasons).

Due to his role, Bradley often makes appearances throughout the top four tiers, visiting businessmen and local politicians. He also serves as a recruiter for both primes and powerful secondaries, and he is also the voice of the Emperor when dealing with the Kingdom.

Story: The man that would grow up to become Bradley was born as a simple human male in a world where alchemy and the mystical were commonplace. From birth, Bradley’s life was nothing but training and physical conditioning, designed to make him the perfect warrior.

At the prime of his life, he was injected with an artifact known as a Philosopher's Stone. Forged from wrathful souls, the stone transformed Bradley into a being known as a Homunculus. In the process, the souls killed one another until only the most wrathful remained. The unique process let him pass off more so as a normal human, but he lacked the strong regenerative powers of other homunculi.

Sometime in the early-1880s, Bradley enlisted into the Amestrian army as an officer. He quickly ascended the ranks due to his brilliance and talent. Within a few years, he was already a general with a long track record of successfully subduing Amestris’ neighbors. As a charismatic war hero, he found himself at the center of a vast cult of personality that only served to propel him into the spotlight.

In 1894, Bradley was appointed Commander-in-Chief of Amestris, placing him at the head of state and military. Following his assumption of leadership, Bradley launched the country into a series of border skirmishes and wars with their neighbors. While most accounts of the fighting were kept silent, stories slipped back that war crimes were quite frequent. After seven years of fighting, the province of Ishval went into full-scale revolt after the unjust murder of a small child. The fighting in the province was some of the worst that the Amestrian military had endured, especially as the combat moved into denser urban environments.

For seven years, a back-and-forth campaign was waged in Isvhal Province. It was then, just when he noticed the war was beginning to negatively impact his regime’s control over the rest of the country, that Bradley passed Order 3066. Marching into Ishval, the State Alchemists massacred the population over the course of several months. This put an end to the fighting at the cost of nearly every Isvhalian. The wars did not end, and several more conflicts followed before Bradley was pulled into the Omniverse just as the Central City of Amestris teetered on the brink of civil war. (immediately before the beginning of the original Fullmetal Alchemist story)

[float=left][/float]Bradley arrived in the Omniverse during the earlier days of the war with Diablo. Coruscant propaganda states that Bradley was ‘the third Prime,’ ignoring the place of Diablo and a handful of others who may have predated Bradley’s arrival. Regardless of when he arrived, Bradley was greeted personally by Emperor Palpatine. Similar in demeanor and personality, the two quickly became friends and returned to Coruscant, where Bradley joined the imperial hierarchy. Over the course of several months, Bradley quickly ascended the ranks. Banned histories state that Bradley’s rapid promotions weren’t based on merit but rather on his allegiance to the Emperor. Either way, Bradley was granted the honorific of ‘King’ and has since been firmly established as the number two man in Coruscant’s Empire.

On the surface, King Bradley seems like a simple military man. At parties and social functions, he is known to be chatty, personable, and capable of making anyone laugh. As the Emperor slipped increasingly into the shadows, Bradley gradually became the most popular face of the regime. Beneath the charm and smiles lurks a second King Bradley--a wrathful individual trained from youth to main and kill.

This is the Bradley that would personally slaughter squads of enemy combatants. A popular story is that Bradley once killed a tank-sized demon with only a grenade and a broken sword. Given his prominence, Bradley has often been the target of terrorist attacks and assassination attempts. One such assassination took place when King Bradley was visiting Tier 5, an already inhospitable place that started to seize at the notion of an imperial bigwig coming to their home.

During a ceremonial function with the local politicians, a series of explosions went off, killing nearly half of Tier 5’s local electorate and almost two squads of stormtroopers. King Bradley was injured but alive, and he soon found himself surrounded by nearly a dozen well-armed men. Footage from cell phones captured the massacre that followed as King Bradley removed his eyepatch to reveal what has since been nicknamed ‘the Ultimate Eye.’ Bradley then pulled off his coat, displaying a set of five swords across his person. In the bloodbath that followed, King Bradley slaughtered each and every one of his attackers without suffering a single blow. All that remained of the foolhardy separatists was a mass of severed limbs and a giant pool of blood that was left unclean by imperial decree following the attempted assassination. While the viscera has been picked apart by scavengers, there are still bloodstains in the old meeting square.

Since the attack, Bradley has made no more trips below Tier 4. The running rumor is that this policy is to protect the people there from Bradley, rather than the other way around. Supposedly it took half a dozen space marines to hold back King Bradley until his rage subsided enough for his more levelheaded tendencies to take control. Despite the slaughter of the poor and underprivileged, Bradley remains even more popular among the more affluent citizens.

This game is fantastic.

I've caved and decided to start a new campaign, in advance of the new expansion. I was craving it the entire 5 months I was in Japan, but an XCOM campaign is something you really need to commit yourself to. It eats at the mind, the soul, and it will consume the unprepared.

All my recruits will be named after the characters here, in order of joining. I apologise to the earlier folks, who are as good as dead. I'm not very good at strategy games. Hardcore classic, naturally. Let's see how long it takes to work through the entire roster.

Well, I'm still at it! Sometimes! So if you guys have requests, feel free to lay 'em down. Here's some stuff I've done.

So, hey, question. What if I had a little poisons kit attached to my belt, would I have to make a move for that? The poison kit (I already have a poisons proficiency...or toxins. something like that) would be like, a pouch attached to the belt itself (like a gun ammo pouch) with little vials of poison and cloths for application, and various little tools.