Lord Rocket Dog

Name: Lord Rocket-Dog
Gender: Male
Tier: Street Level
Location: Reach City
 
Alignment: Hero
Team: Aegis 

Background:

Now listen up, I have an announcement to all you prospective heroes, vigilantes, and do-gooders.

I was, in a former life, Lord Charles ‘Axel’ Talbot , yet I am more commonly known within Aegis today as Lord Rocket-Dog. It has been requested that I assist you all in adjusting to the life of a super-hero, as well as in dealing with our more than arduous membership forms. Originally Captain Template was requested to assist you today, however he was called away to a pressing engagement, some nasty business with a jewel heist if I recall.

Now to begin with, you will see on your Aegis membership form a section marked ‘background’. In short, this is where you tell us how you got here. You must have some origin, I’m sure. We need not hear your life’s story, though if you wish to tell it, and find someone polite enough to listen, you may.

However a fine suggestion here is to tell a simple story, or a single moment that encapsulates your history, or perhaps just narrate a general outline. If say like myself, you are a dog who is the re-incarnation of a 19th century superhero and was given human intelligence through the raw powers of science, you may wish to outline the general facts as to how that occurred. Or leave it entirely obscure, should you wish to appear more mysterious. There are no hard rules, just give it your all chaps.


Personality:

Now it is considered conventional to inform the waiting public about not only from whence you came, but also who you are. Your very nature should be known, whether it be good or ill, bizarre or mundane, petty or magnificent.

However do not be tempted to wax poetic upon your great thesis of the morality of man; your audience’s attention is limited, especially with this younger generation. Your true nature is like a great machine at work, it is easier, and I say better, to explain it not by describing each piece that goes into the making of the thing, but to simply show the machine in action. Show, my chaps, don’t tell.

For example, I had a rather amusing conversation with Catherine, one of the newest Rocket Girls. She inquired of me who was a good boy. I responded that I was indeed what you would call good, though not truly a boy. She then repeated the query, ‘who’s a good boy?’ and I responded again, aquiesing that I was indeed a ‘good boy’. She then agreed, stating “yes you are, yes you are”, and rubbed me for a good while beneath the chin, indicating to me her belief that goodness should be rewarded for its own sake on the merits that I was indeed, as she defined it, a good boy. This small titbit told me a great deal about her character.

It Rockets! Flight, standard 2 (2)

Now when asked what exactly your ‘powers’ are, many of you may be tempted to grandstand for your audience, to claim exaggerated abilities used in unrealistic situations. Harumph to that. Harumph I say!

Men of that quality do not last long I’ll tell you. When men ask me what does that rocket do, I do not tell them, I show them. I fly about the room, barking like mad, knocking their portraits off the wall, and punching dog sized holes through their walls. My lord, ‘what does that rocket do’? What an inane question. It rockets, that’s what it does my boy.

But Small in Size: Strength, weak -1, (1)

And related to this same arrogance of grandstanding, is a perception amongst you new lot that you can never falter, never kneel, never admit any weakness. Harumph, I say again. You think men and dogs of greatness got where they are by never examing their flaws? No, they succeed by staring into those dark places and taking ownership of them.

Just look at me, chaps. Nineteen pounds, three ounces, and no more. Do I let my size restrain me? Do I quiver weakly at the knees of a villain, fearful that he might punt me into next week? NO! I Rocket up and headbutt him on the nose!

Crash-proof: Armor, standard 2 (3)

Moving next to the all important manner of dress. I will say this, I do not believe in costumes; I believe in uniforms. A costume is a thing for children, a uniform is a thing for men. A uniform also signals a certain shared purpose. Even if we all wear different sigils and symbols on our chests, we are united in our purpose of doing good, and we all wear our respective uniforms with pride.

A uniform should be clear and iconic, not a gawdy mess of colors and and lines. A uniform should be clean. Shirts should be tucked and shoes polished. A uniform should be both fashionable and functional. The Rocket Girls know this lesson well, and have designed a bullet-proof corset that is both effective and presentable.

Even I, in my base animal nudity still retain my dignity, as a true gentleman never leaves his home without his gold plated Kevlar collar and crash-tested bowler hat.

Adorability and Other Things. Emotion Control, standard 2 (5)

With one last comment as to uniforms, and I mean no disrespect, there is a tendency among the fairer race for their uniforms to be far too revealing to my taste. Perhaps this is just my Victorian inclination, but it is necessary for the young heroines to go off showing their calves?

Yet, the Rocket-Girls assure me that this discretion, along with the likes of the hi-cut battle skirt, the combat stiletto, and the ‘midriff’ armor, have some function in distracting their adversaries, many of whom are young chaps like many of you. Well I was a young man once, and I can admit to being occasionally distracted by such tactics. Though I still tell the girls that it is perhaps not entirely ladylike to willfully manipulate emotions as such. To which they usually respond by asking whether it is entirely gentlemanly to play the adorable, whimpering pup in order to sneak past a guard, or persuade a reluctant witness to speak, or perhaps get a treat from the cupboard.

I am aware of this hypocrisy, though I will still ask the young heroines among you to please consider whether such options are always necessary, let alone practical.

The Rocket Girls: Commander, superior and ranged, 4+1 (10)

Ah yes, this is a common question. On your forms you may find questions about your leadership skills. We like to promote from within here, keeps everything running above board. However, due to an idiosyncrasy of verbage on the form there is often a confusion between the skills of ‘commander’ and ‘tactician’.

Why commanding and tactics go hand in glove, don’t they? It is a fair question. Yet here, commander is not taken as a skill of commanding, but the active condition of having people to command. Am I clear?

For example, I am a commander, in that I bring with me my squad, the Rocket Girls. I preffered the 'Rocket Ladies' myself, though they dissented claiming it made them sound too matronly. Also, ‘Rockettes’ was previously trademarked. So ‘Rocket Girls’ it was.

Still, fine young ladies all of them, I assure you, and you may do well to introduce yourself should you see them roaming the halls. Though I may advise many of the young gentlemen in the crowd to avoid becoming too ‘fresh’, as the kids say. Those compression guns pack a whallop and my girls aren’t afraid to use them

An Experienced Pup: Tactician, standard 2 (12)

Now to move on, the definition of ‘tactician’ is more about the strategy involved in combat, and can be used with or without comrades, though I dare say any obstacle becomes less formidable with another man at your back; or woman in my case.

To those unfamiliar with the study of tactics I might recommend you become aquainted with the writings and story of our Lord Nelson, as well as the practices of that scoundrel Bonaparte. Also, to those interested in deception and the ways of ‘ungentlemenly warfare’, I would suggest the writings of Sun Tzu, as I’ve been told by those interested in that sort of affair that he is quite foundational.

Regardless of the source, this learning can be of an invaluable help when in the trenches. I myself have discovered quite a few useful maneuvers: the Fibbonacci Pincer, the Half-Penny Whistle, the Fly-Fisherman’s Whip, and perhaps my favorite, the Corset Cutter.

Plated Bowler Hat: Crushing weapon, standard 2 (14)

Now, if I may indulge myself, I’ll explain it in detail. Despite the possibly rude implication, the move itself requires three companions with ranged weapons and a small dog with a steam-powered rocket-pack (If you don’t have one, a large cat with a hang-glider may well do).

Begin by positioning your companions on either side of the villain or villains and firing upon them repeatedly from cover. Your companions should surround your target on either side like the laces of a corset. Then, while your opponent remains distracted, you rush in from behind on your rocket-pack and slam into his gut like a steam-powered bolt of lightning and brown fur. Smashing!