Post by bradley on Aug 25, 2010 22:26:27 GMT -4
Given Name: Dr. James Bradley
Codename: Dr. Nemesis
Age: 110
Detailed Description of Powers: Dr. Nemesis has ridiculous longevity, as well as an enhanced immune system. He is into his triple digits, yet appears to be, and is as healthy as, a thirty year old. He has altered his own eyes, allowing him to spot genetic anomalies in humans from 200 meters away. He is a scientific genius, a trait he refers to as, “self-evolved intellect”.
Originally from: Northern Illinois
Known Family: None, any assumed dead.
Physical Description: Youthful, appears to be in his thirties despite his old age. Blond hair and blue eyes, about 5’9” and of average weight.
Personality: Bradley is of an abnormal level of intelligence. He is arrogant, cold, and unsympathetic. He would sacrifice a kitten for science.
Other: He is a science man, through and through. Originally trained as a medical physician, he also dabbled in invention. In the nineteen thirties he assisted in the invention of the original Human Torch android, and also invented the hypodermic needle guns he wields, as well as a truth serum that he used in his investigation days.
Bio: Dr. Bradley has led a very long life, with plenty more of it ahead of him. He became a medical doctor in the nineteen thirties, but joined up with a Professor Phineas Horton in the creation of the Human Torch android. The intended creation was not meant to burst into flames, and after a public relations disaster involving the android, Bradley decided to take his work and leave Horton’s company. He created a second android, Volton the Human Generator, a superhero who fought using electricity. At this time, Bradley himself decided to fight crime behind a mask. He donned a lab coat, white fedora and surgical mask and fought crime at night by use of his hypodermic needle pistols. It was at this time that he took up the name Dr. Nemesis. Sometime later in the forties, the Third Reich approached him to create a team of masked powers. Bradley was an isolationist, so he created the team Battle-Axis with the intention of pulling the United States from the war. As a member of Battle-Axis he went by Dr. Death. During a climactic battle with the Invaders, Bradley was attacked by his own invention, Volton. He was assumed dead, but resurfaced, once again using the moniker Dr. Nemesis as a crimefighter in New York City. Recently he has been attempting to repent for his involvement with the Nazi party by hunting down the remnants of the Nazi super-scientists, their creations, and their clones in South America. He has returned to the States for a break from the intense lifestyle of hunting Super-Nazis, and is using the X-Mansion as a refuge from his old affiliations.
And in the Interview:
Why did you choose our site?: I’ve played on here before.
What about this character do you like?: He should be called Dr. Awesome. He is the height of arrogance, an Ersatz Dr. House in many ways, who speaks his mind no matter how abrasive the opinion is.
Have you ever RPed before? Where?: I’ve RPed here as Omega Red and as Jamie Madrox. I’ve also RPed at some other defunct superhero sites.
Please write a sample post for the character you want below:
Fighting Super-Nazis really takes a lot out of you, especially if you ever want to explain that sentence to someone. Dr. Bradley had just returned from more than half a century of living in South America, fighting remnants of the Nazi party. Years ago he had done terrible things in the name of the Third Reich, things he intended to set right by killing all of the old Nazi weirdos who were hiding out in Argentina and other such places trying to make clones of leaders and super soldiers and return glory to the master race. However, after a close brush with death and the somewhat jarring epiphany that he was a mutant he decided that his near sixty year excursion had afforded him a vacation on the eastern seaboard. Dr. Bradley stepped off of the airplane, a rather large jetliner, much different than the nightmare he had flown in on in the fifties. He straightened his hat, an old fedora he was due to replace, and trudged through the concourse and through the winding customs line. Ahead of him was a large man who smelled of beef. Behind him was a woman who spoke no English, and must have had seven or eight screaming children fiddling in and out of the queue. The line slugged forward, each person who approached the line was a new level of irritating. A man who had a passport, but had not filled out the immigration form on the plane. A couple without passports. Someone who wants to skip ahead to baggage claim before customs. Idiots. People like that annoyed Bradley to the brink of insanity. Dumb b******s who think they can coast through life making up their own rules because they don’t understand the real laws that govern society and nature. Pathetic creatures clinging to the planet and societal position by their malformed brain stems. He got to the front of the line, passport prepared, immigration form filled out. He handed it to the TSA agent. She was portly, her pants stretched around her large waist in a struggle to maintain one coherent piece. She examined the booklet and then scoffed loudly.
“Sir, this D.O.B. can’t be right. You think we’re stupid or something.”
“Whatever do you mean, miss, I just had it renewed without any problems?”
“It says you were born in 1899. That makes you, what?”
“110.”
“Yeah, right, you look younger than me. You stay put, and put your hands on the counter. Don’t move…” she began, reaching for the taser on her hip. Bradley raised his arms.
“Oh please, there is a logical explanation for this, you nitwit, if you’d give me a second.” This terrible woman was just like the clueless travelers: naïve and irritating.
“You better have an explanation Methuselah.”
He hesitated. To tell her could cause a worse problem than getting the passport administrator to say it was a typo. He went ahead anyway.
“I am a mutant. One of my abilities is enhanced longevity…” and he quickly added, to sound dramatic, “among other things.”
The woman paled a bit, and then scanned him through. He walked along toward baggage claim, a murmur behind him. These ignorant people were beginning to weigh on Bradley, and he contemplated how much he missed the company of the insane, but at least quasi-intelligent, Nazi super scientists when two men stepped in front of him.
“Hey mutie,” a particularly large man in a leather jacket said.
“You think you can come up here and cause problems, just cause you got some kinda freak juice in your blood that makes you look real young? This is AMERICA buddy, and you ain’t gonna f*** with us,” the similar man in a wifebeater stated.
“Well, I apologize for being different. Now if you two moose could step out of my way, I need to get my bag and catch a cab.”
The two thugs blocked the way, and the leather garbed jerk shoved Bradley back.
“Don’t you listen freak? We don’t want you here!”
Bradley had had enough, and the combination of a very long plane ride, terrible food, and having to associate with mankind at its stupidest, that is during transit, had made him irritable. He drew from his pocket two pen-like devices, what might have been the delivery systems for allergy medicine in a pinch. He jabbed the two needles into the throats of the young men, and their knees buckled.
“Don’t worry, it isn’t poison, just shockingly powerful narcotics. You’ll have a nice nap, and probably wake up in the security holding. Night-night, ape men.”
Dr. Bradley was glad to be back in the States, and he thought to himself how nice it would be to relax as he approached baggage claim. He grabbed his suitcase, straightened his hat and walked out to hail a cab.
Codename: Dr. Nemesis
Age: 110
Detailed Description of Powers: Dr. Nemesis has ridiculous longevity, as well as an enhanced immune system. He is into his triple digits, yet appears to be, and is as healthy as, a thirty year old. He has altered his own eyes, allowing him to spot genetic anomalies in humans from 200 meters away. He is a scientific genius, a trait he refers to as, “self-evolved intellect”.
Originally from: Northern Illinois
Known Family: None, any assumed dead.
Physical Description: Youthful, appears to be in his thirties despite his old age. Blond hair and blue eyes, about 5’9” and of average weight.
Personality: Bradley is of an abnormal level of intelligence. He is arrogant, cold, and unsympathetic. He would sacrifice a kitten for science.
Other: He is a science man, through and through. Originally trained as a medical physician, he also dabbled in invention. In the nineteen thirties he assisted in the invention of the original Human Torch android, and also invented the hypodermic needle guns he wields, as well as a truth serum that he used in his investigation days.
Bio: Dr. Bradley has led a very long life, with plenty more of it ahead of him. He became a medical doctor in the nineteen thirties, but joined up with a Professor Phineas Horton in the creation of the Human Torch android. The intended creation was not meant to burst into flames, and after a public relations disaster involving the android, Bradley decided to take his work and leave Horton’s company. He created a second android, Volton the Human Generator, a superhero who fought using electricity. At this time, Bradley himself decided to fight crime behind a mask. He donned a lab coat, white fedora and surgical mask and fought crime at night by use of his hypodermic needle pistols. It was at this time that he took up the name Dr. Nemesis. Sometime later in the forties, the Third Reich approached him to create a team of masked powers. Bradley was an isolationist, so he created the team Battle-Axis with the intention of pulling the United States from the war. As a member of Battle-Axis he went by Dr. Death. During a climactic battle with the Invaders, Bradley was attacked by his own invention, Volton. He was assumed dead, but resurfaced, once again using the moniker Dr. Nemesis as a crimefighter in New York City. Recently he has been attempting to repent for his involvement with the Nazi party by hunting down the remnants of the Nazi super-scientists, their creations, and their clones in South America. He has returned to the States for a break from the intense lifestyle of hunting Super-Nazis, and is using the X-Mansion as a refuge from his old affiliations.
And in the Interview:
Why did you choose our site?: I’ve played on here before.
What about this character do you like?: He should be called Dr. Awesome. He is the height of arrogance, an Ersatz Dr. House in many ways, who speaks his mind no matter how abrasive the opinion is.
Have you ever RPed before? Where?: I’ve RPed here as Omega Red and as Jamie Madrox. I’ve also RPed at some other defunct superhero sites.
Please write a sample post for the character you want below:
Fighting Super-Nazis really takes a lot out of you, especially if you ever want to explain that sentence to someone. Dr. Bradley had just returned from more than half a century of living in South America, fighting remnants of the Nazi party. Years ago he had done terrible things in the name of the Third Reich, things he intended to set right by killing all of the old Nazi weirdos who were hiding out in Argentina and other such places trying to make clones of leaders and super soldiers and return glory to the master race. However, after a close brush with death and the somewhat jarring epiphany that he was a mutant he decided that his near sixty year excursion had afforded him a vacation on the eastern seaboard. Dr. Bradley stepped off of the airplane, a rather large jetliner, much different than the nightmare he had flown in on in the fifties. He straightened his hat, an old fedora he was due to replace, and trudged through the concourse and through the winding customs line. Ahead of him was a large man who smelled of beef. Behind him was a woman who spoke no English, and must have had seven or eight screaming children fiddling in and out of the queue. The line slugged forward, each person who approached the line was a new level of irritating. A man who had a passport, but had not filled out the immigration form on the plane. A couple without passports. Someone who wants to skip ahead to baggage claim before customs. Idiots. People like that annoyed Bradley to the brink of insanity. Dumb b******s who think they can coast through life making up their own rules because they don’t understand the real laws that govern society and nature. Pathetic creatures clinging to the planet and societal position by their malformed brain stems. He got to the front of the line, passport prepared, immigration form filled out. He handed it to the TSA agent. She was portly, her pants stretched around her large waist in a struggle to maintain one coherent piece. She examined the booklet and then scoffed loudly.
“Sir, this D.O.B. can’t be right. You think we’re stupid or something.”
“Whatever do you mean, miss, I just had it renewed without any problems?”
“It says you were born in 1899. That makes you, what?”
“110.”
“Yeah, right, you look younger than me. You stay put, and put your hands on the counter. Don’t move…” she began, reaching for the taser on her hip. Bradley raised his arms.
“Oh please, there is a logical explanation for this, you nitwit, if you’d give me a second.” This terrible woman was just like the clueless travelers: naïve and irritating.
“You better have an explanation Methuselah.”
He hesitated. To tell her could cause a worse problem than getting the passport administrator to say it was a typo. He went ahead anyway.
“I am a mutant. One of my abilities is enhanced longevity…” and he quickly added, to sound dramatic, “among other things.”
The woman paled a bit, and then scanned him through. He walked along toward baggage claim, a murmur behind him. These ignorant people were beginning to weigh on Bradley, and he contemplated how much he missed the company of the insane, but at least quasi-intelligent, Nazi super scientists when two men stepped in front of him.
“Hey mutie,” a particularly large man in a leather jacket said.
“You think you can come up here and cause problems, just cause you got some kinda freak juice in your blood that makes you look real young? This is AMERICA buddy, and you ain’t gonna f*** with us,” the similar man in a wifebeater stated.
“Well, I apologize for being different. Now if you two moose could step out of my way, I need to get my bag and catch a cab.”
The two thugs blocked the way, and the leather garbed jerk shoved Bradley back.
“Don’t you listen freak? We don’t want you here!”
Bradley had had enough, and the combination of a very long plane ride, terrible food, and having to associate with mankind at its stupidest, that is during transit, had made him irritable. He drew from his pocket two pen-like devices, what might have been the delivery systems for allergy medicine in a pinch. He jabbed the two needles into the throats of the young men, and their knees buckled.
“Don’t worry, it isn’t poison, just shockingly powerful narcotics. You’ll have a nice nap, and probably wake up in the security holding. Night-night, ape men.”
Dr. Bradley was glad to be back in the States, and he thought to himself how nice it would be to relax as he approached baggage claim. He grabbed his suitcase, straightened his hat and walked out to hail a cab.
