Post by Plastic Man on Sept 29, 2012 16:18:08 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=valign, top][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, border: 10px solid #f1e3b4; width: 450px; background-color: #f6f7f1;][STYLE=font-family: times new roman; font-size: 36px; color: #191919; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 2px;]PERSONAL FILE[/style][STYLE=font-family: arial; font-size: 8px; color: #FF0000; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 2px;]HIGHLY CLASSIFIED AND CONFIDENTIAL[/style][STYLE=float: right; margin: 10px 10px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; border: 10px solid #FFFFEE;][/style][STYLE= color: #000000; background: #BBDD22; font-family: courier new; font-size: 15px; text-align: center; width: 296px; margin-left: 05px; font-weight: bold; padding: 02px;]GENERAL INFORMATION[/style][STYLE=color: #191919; font-size: 10px; margin-top: 10px; margin-left: 10px;]NAME: Patrick “Eel” O’Brian ALIAS: They call me (Insert a dramatic pause, accompanied by a drum roll, here) INSANE! But you can call me Plastic Man. GENDER: Well…I am Plastic MAN. What do you think, Buster?! If that is, in fact, your name. It sounds fake to me…it sounds like something I just made up! AGE: 97 (Wanna know my secret? I’ll give you a hint. It starts with chemical and ends with IMBALANCE!) OCCUPATION: Renowned Crime Fighter, Enforcer of justice and peace, oppressor of evil, the perfect role model, captain of the Neighborhood Watch Community, all-around great guy, borderline psychopath...What did you just write down?! ALIGNMENT: Good as a newborn kitten. Good as the first ray of sunshine after a storm. And more than good with the ladies. AFFILIATION(S): FBI Justice League local Neighborhood Watch Community Official Plastic Man Fan Club [/style] [STYLE= color: #000000; background: #BBDD22; font-family: courier new; font-size: 15px; text-align: center; width: 296px; margin-left: 05px; font-weight: bold; padding: 02px;]PHYSICAL PROFILE[/style][STYLE=color: #191919; font-size: 10px; margin-top: 10px; margin-left: 10px;](Default) HEIGHT: 6’1 (Default) WEIGHT: 178 lb. EYES: Blue HAIR: Black CLASSFICATION: Altered Human UNUSUAL FEATURES: I’d…really rather not say. BEHAVIOR PROFILE[/style][STYLE= margin: 0px 10px 0px 10px; border: 2px solid #191919; padding: 2px; font-family: verdana; height: 125px; overflow: auto; font-size: 11px; color: #000000; text-align: justify; background-color: #ffffff; opacity: 0.8] Plastic Man is, in short, a complete lunatic. The best means of describing him is that he is a cartoon character. He is the Bugs Bunny of the Justice League to put things, regarding Plastic Man, into a nearly accurate perspective. In one simple word, he is unhinged. His methods are as unpredictable as they are unconventional and, for that reason, most people cannot take him seriously to any extent, including his comrades and especially criminals. The bad guys he handles, however, usually underestimate him a little less after he successfully captures them. His attitude and behavior makes him seem incompetent and unprepared, but he is quite the opposite…in most instances. He may appear clumsy, uncoordinated, and unaware at times, but that is all just an act, you see? He means to trick people into lowering their guard to keep things from getting as messy and horrific as possible. Plastic Man may not bleed or die, but other people certainly can. That proves it! He does care even if it is only in his own uniquely absurd way. Much worse can be said of certain other “unstable” individuals. Not that he takes anything or anyone too seriously, mind you. He exists naturally to make men, women, and children laugh. One of his goals is to make the world into a much brighter place than it is at present and he does it one audience at a time. His ultimate objective, however, is to fight crime from the inside. To perform a swan dive into the mouth of malice! To slither down the throat of tyranny! To splash into the belly of badness! And to give a case of indigestion to the intestines of injustice! [/style][STYLE=color: #191919; font-size: 10px; margin-top: 10px; margin-left: 10px;]DOCUMENTED HISTORY[/style][STYLE= margin: 0px 10px 0px 10px; border: 2px solid #191919; padding: 2px; font-family: verdana; height: 125px; overflow: auto; font-size: 11px; color: #000000; text-align: justify; background-color: #ffffff; opacity: 0.8]You want to know how I became such a great guy and perfect gentleman? Do you really want to know how I went from becoming the Eel to Plastic Man? Are you sure you want to know? Do you really, really want to know? Are you absolutely positive without any doubt in your mind that you wish to hear the greatest tale ever told on Earth or anywhere else for that matter? Of course you do! Why else am I here? I wouldn’t be sitting across from a complete stranger with whom I am sharing all my most intimate secrets if that was not the case! Wait, something about this scenario does not feel quite right. Oh well, it does not matter. You cannot get me to talk. My lips are sealed. Mmph, hmm, mmm, hmm, mmm , mmph. Got it? The fact of the matter is, is that every hero has a code they adhere to and I am no exception. I cannot tell you my story and not because it is a secret. I cannot tell you became I must appear modest at all times. That is my code and I will not break it for anything or anyone. I am beyond reproach! I am deaf to coercion! I am impervious bribery! Are those doughnuts? Crème-filled you say? What kind of dastardly fiend are you? Okay, you win. You will get your story, but Little Timothy will share it on my behalf. How dare you insult him in such a vehement manner? I demand you take that back at once! Little Timothy is not a poorly designed ventriloquist’s dummy I only just shaped from by two feet! He is a well-behaved ten-year-old boy who minds his manners, cleans his plate, and gets good grades in school. He is my number one fan and has aspirations for the future. I will not have you mock him in my presence! Yes, yes, you’ll get your story as soon as I get my payment. What? Of course I mean the doughnuts! Why, if Little Timothy wasn’t present, I’d have half a mind to insult you with colorful language. Alright, Timothy, tell our rude host all about your favorite person in the whole word, nay, I say, but the entire universe itself! Munch, munch, gulp, munch, swallow, munch, munch, gulp, swallow, omnomnom, and etcetera (He actually said "omnomnom, and etcetera"). And he lived happily ever after. The End! Did you get all of that? You offend us greatly and I shan’t tolerate it! Even if I was a ventriloquist as you continue insinuating, I can assure you that I would not be a "poor" one as you put it. My talents as such would far exceed that of the most renowned ventriloquists of all time. Sir Isaac Newton, Leonardo da Vinci , King Henry, George Washington, and G. I. Joe who was the greatest of them all. Little Timothy, run straight home to your mother, but always remember, make sure your shoes are tied, look both ways before crossing the street, and don’t talk to strangers. He’s such a good kid, but a deal’s a deal. I’ll talk, but don’t blame me if your ears explode from the sides of your head after receiving the entire grandeur of the epic I am about to share. My story begins seventy-one years ago on a dark and stormy night much like tonight (Let the records show that it was actually one in the afternoon and sunny without a cloud in the sky when this lunatic finally “cooperated”). I was just a hired thug at the time trying to make a name for myself in the golden age of disorganized crime. I know what I said and I meant what I said! Ours was a very disorganized bunch. My buddies and I received a tip that there was a major score stashed away in the Crawford City Chemical Works. There was only one armed guard on patrol at night and the money was supposedly stashed away in the foreman’s desk drawer. We all thought that it was easy money. None of us figured the guard was a trigger-happy madman, but he was and he tried stopping our robbery in progress. I received a bullet to the shoulder and fell, knocking over a barrel of chemicals and upending its contents all over me. None of my pals stopped to help me. I dragged my own carcass out of that place and miraculously avoided capture. I walked outside and saw my partners in crime drive off without me. I was only two steps out the door when the worms put the metal to the pedal. I heard police cars approaching and managed to reach the edge of town on my own before I passed out from blood loss and the chemicals giving my body a tune up. A kindly monk discovered my incapacitated body on the edge of his property. He took me into his sanctuary called, Rest-Haven. I awoke in a bed and he explained all of that to me. He also knew my name. Police had an easy enough time trailing me to the site, but the monk must have been a slick talker because he convinced the cops that I wasn’t home. No one had shown me any sort of kindness up until that point in my life. My folks had both died by the time I had turned ten years old. I tried doing the right thing, but no one gave me the time of day let alone a chance to prove myself. I felt alone and abandoned; I turned my back on the world for the longest time. The monk who saved me was the first one to have actually believed in me. He saved me from prison and told me that I was a man who could do good things if given a chance. His words reflected the way I had felt all along. He even fed me and allowed me to rest in his home until I overcame my chemical-induced sickness. I awoke later in the condition you see me now, but it was all new to me back then. I don’t know if you can imagine my surprise, but I quickly got over it. I left the Rest-haven with a clear objective in mind. I decided that I would fight crime from the inside. For years, I infiltrated the underground under the guise of “Eel” my former criminal name. When the time called for it, I would don my costume and become Plastic Man and see that real criminals got their just desserts. The FBI put two and two together and came knocking at my door. The investigator who made the house call gave me a choice. I could enlist in the FBI and assist in solving many of their unsolvable cases or I could go to court and face sentencing for my less than successful criminal career. I was only too happy to accept the proposal. I have worked with the US government for decades doing things that no other man inside or outside the law could hope to accomplish. I have worked on foreign soil almost as much as I have on the home front. Some of the things I have done even helped ensure that you were even able to have this meeting with me in the first place. But all of that are all stories for another time. I have since joined the Justice League and I still cover the odd case for the FBI now and then. In conclusion…may I have more doughnuts and coffee?[/style] [STYLE=color: #191919; font-size: 10px; margin-top: 10px; margin-left: 10px;]POWERS AND ABILITIES[/style][STYLE= margin: 0px 10px 0px 10px; border: 2px solid #191919; padding: 2px; font-family: verdana; height: 125px; overflow: auto; font-size: 11px; color: #000000; text-align: justify; background-color: #ffffff; opacity: 0.8] KNOWN POWERS:
KNOWN ABILITIES:
STRENGTH LEVEL: It varies dependng on his given form, but his powers give him the potential to lift and toss skyscraper-sized objects and entities. WEAKNESSES:
[/style] [STYLE=color: #191919; font-size: 10px; margin-top: 10px; margin-left: 10px;]PARAPHERNALIA[/style][STYLE= margin: 0px 10px 0px 10px; border: 2px solid #191919; padding: 2px; font-family: verdana; height: 125px; overflow: auto; font-size: 11px; color: #000000; text-align: justify; background-color: #ffffff; opacity: 0.8] EQUIPMENT: A very stylish costume! Classics never age. (His costume is actually part of his body and it is interesting to note that his goggles change shape to match his emotions and expressions like one would expect from a cartoon character.) TRANSPORTATION: I usually get around by car, bus, airplane, boat, and the occasional space ship just like every other regular Joe. Who said my name was Joe? You are a liar! WEAPONS: What? Is wit not enough?[/style] [STYLE=color: #191919; font-size: 10px; margin-top: 10px; margin-left: 10px;]EXAMINATION RECORD[/style][STYLE= margin: 0px 10px 0px 10px; border: 2px solid #191919; padding: 2px; font-family: verdana; height: 125px; overflow: auto; font-size: 11px; color: #000000; text-align: justify; background-color: #ffffff; opacity: 0.8]A hero must remain ever vigilant should evil ever decide to strike. A hero must never be caught unawares, especially by those who would wish to see them eliminated. A hero must keep his mind sharp, his ears perked, and his eyes peeled like two ripe bananas destined for the Saturday morning cereal bowl. A hero…is found taking it easy on a lazy summer afternoon. We find Plastic Man where we certainly did not leave him last; napping in the shade of a tree at the park. Suddenly…a plot device enters the scene. Like the apple that bopped Isaac Newton on the head, a baseball falls from the sky and strikes the vulnerable hero likewise. He suddenly woke from one of his favorite dreams; swimming in an Olympic-sized pool that had been filled with a vast fortune…his fortune. “Why does my head hurt?” He asked aloud; he then glanced down and all around him until he identified the offender. He was not the only one intrigued by the object that had fallen from the heavens. A giant of a dog cloaked in spun gold lollopped over to his side and sniffed the ball inquisitively. “Good idea, Beatrix!” He admitted after having read the name tag on the canine’s collar. “We will work together on this investigation. Let it be known that we shall discover and identify the fiend behind this latest attempt on my life!” The dog’s limited brain processed that the strange creature beside him smelled like someone else’s chew toy. The person who chewed the Toy Man out regularly smelled like bats. Beatrix did not like bats. Beatrix also recognized the use of his name, but the stranger was not Alpha; therefore, Beatrix decided to ignore the stranger. Beatrix collected the baseball into his mouth after having decided to take it for himself then ran from the stranger to rejoin Alpha and friends. “I agree,” Plastic Man called out after the dog as he stood up. “We should meet at your place and examine the evidence there. Who knows who or what might be listening and watching here? We must be as discreet as possible!” He yelled. “Stop that dog!” Someone, a young boy by the sound of their voice, cried out. Plastic Man elongated his neck and twisted his head around to face the child. He wore a baseball uniform. “What for?” He asked. “That dog took our last ball,” The boy explained breathlessly. “You are mistaken,” Plastic Man replied as he turned completely around to address the distressed child. “That dog is my new deputized sidekick and he’s helping me on a very important investigation. That ball he took is evidence.” “We need it for our game!” The boy complained. “I cannot, in all good conscious, allow children to play with the evil doers’ devices.” Plastic Man decided; he appeared absolutely convinced the ball belonged to a failed assassin and not to a local little league team. “What are you talking about? We need our ball back!” The boy insisted. “You don’t need that ball; you just need A ball.” Plastic Man then assumed the shape, weight, and density of a regulation baseball. “Will this work? Can’t very well lose a ball that can grow legs and walk away, can you?” He asked with a jovial smile. “I think I see the dog and its owner over there,” The boy replied and pointed. “I’ll just ask for it back from them.” He quickly departed from the hero’s presence. Our hero hadn't a chance to object because someone else suddenly walked by with the leash of a spotted hound in one hand and a cell phone in the other. Whoever they were, they were too distracted by the person at the other end of their call to notice their pet wrapping its mouth around a strangely colored baseball. Plastic Man’s indignant cries at the new development were muffled by the dog’s mouth. Plastic Man was of the opinion that the animal’s breath was rancid and, therefore, its mouth could not be as clean as people regularly claimed. He was quick to voice his opinion, but no one heard it as he was whisked away and liberally showered in slobber.[/style][STYLE=color: #191919; font-size: 12px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; text-align: center; font-family: courier new]subject examined by Doctor Cyber[/style] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=valign,top][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 40px;][STYLE=background-color: #f1e3b4; font-family: times new roman; font-size:30px; color: #404040; min-height: 150px; padding: 5px; text-align: center; moz-border-radius: 0px 10px 10px 0px; -o-border-radius: 0px 10px 10px 0px; border-radius: 0px 10px 10px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 0px 10px 10px 0px;]P L A S T I C M A N[/style] |
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