Billy Buddy
The status is...not...quo.
CHARACTER NAME: Billy (Dr. Horrible)
FANDOM: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog
WHAT THEY LOST: No longer has the ability to invent or construct any device which can cause direct harm. No weapons, torture devices, etc. However, freeze-rays, computer-hacking devices, etc. are fine since they do not cause significant bodily pain or harm. He's still an inventor/evil-genius...but he can't even make, or design, a slingshot if he wanted to. lol
PERSONALITY:
At heart, Billy is just a normal nerdy guy, who aspires to change the world. Dorky and sensitive, if he had headed down a different path, he might have discovered more positive ways to make a difference. Unfortunately, he had his sights set on a more destructive solution, and has become a super villain, taking on the moniker "Dr. Horrible." He is disgusted with the world and his own insignificance, and has an unending drive to change this. He longs to punish the world for its apathetic stupor and make something of himself at the same time, causing mass chaos and sitting proudly at the top of it all. He is far from heartless however, seeing killing as inelegant and uncreative, and prides himself in his clever inventions.
In his search to change the world, Billy instead let the world change him, making him bitter and pushing him further down the slope from simple ambition to true evil. Tragically, he found that he unwittingly had to make a choice between his two great goals in life: being happy, and becoming a true villain; Billy's dreams or Dr. Horrible's ambitions. He ultimately chose villainy, and the nerdy boy--who was blessed with an inventor's mind, the perseverance to endure ridicule from those around him, and a surprisingly beautiful singing voice (lol)--found true evil and finally obtained his goal.
No one laughed at Dr. Horrible anymore, but the success was not what he had expected. There was no joy to be found in his accomplishments.
However, with his arrival in Paradisa, it seems that fate has given him a second chance.
Everything that he had achieved in his old life has been taken away, kidnapped by a magical castle, forcing him to essentially start over. He is still deeply affected by the things that had happened in his old life, but his numb shell has no choice but to crack upon reaching Paradisa. He has to find a new goal now, and it will be very interesting to see if his choices end up any differently than they did before.
'Billy' and 'Dr. Horrible' are once more free to fight amongst themselves within him.
THIRD-PERSON WRITING SAMPLE:
"Ungh..."
The light was bright and unfamiliar, stabbingly so, as he opened his eyes. In that first moment, bleary and blinking, he realized that he was not in his lair. The typically-villainous shadows were gone. He couldn't hear beakers bubbling, or the usual city-sounds calling beyond the walls.
"This...isn't right."
Was he hungover? Though he still wasn't used to the heavy parties enjoyed by the ELE members, he had nonetheless found himself waking up in strange places a few times. Had that been what happened here? Sitting up on the unfamiliar bed, he righted the goggles that were sitting crookedly on his head and looked around.
It looked like a hotel room. Faceless and new.
And he felt fine.
It didn't make sense.
Pushing himself to his feet, he wandered around the room along an addled path, idly opening drawers and peeking past the bland curtains on the window. Everything had the starchy smell of cleanliness. Even the paint smelled new. It was white and sterile, even moreso than the new laboratory that the ELE had just given him. He couldn't recall ever arriving here, and couldn't link it to any of his more recent connections. This place was too modern to be one of Fake Thomas Jefferson's haunts, and certainly wasn't somewhere that Tie Die would have brought him, even if he had been drunk.
Finally, he reached the closet and pulled back the doors...and balked until his breath caught in his throat at what he saw.
The entire thing was full with identical white labcoats, pressed just the way he liked them, with a pair of bulky folded gloves sticking out of each set of pockets.
"...No."
As he shoved the closet doors closed again and turned around, a face caught the corner of his eye. His own face, in the mirror over the dresser. Instead of the fine red labcoat and black gloves--the ones that donned posters and souvenirs around the city, the only articles of clothing he'd worn since joining the ELE--he saw white. Plain, featureless, white...just like all the others hanging in the closet. He hadn't seen that agonizingly unremarkable labcoat since he'd thrown it away, burned it along with his old identity.
"This can't be!"
Wherever he was, be it a twisted dream or someone's sick idea of a joke, his past had finally caught up with him.
FIRST-PERSON WRITING SAMPLE:
So...I'm having a hard time adhering to a decent set of villainous standards here. Tacky white labcoats aside, there doesn't seem to be a good League here, and that's just...well.
It's upsetting, is what it is.
Organization is key to, y'know, most things in life, and... I don't know.
For all the villains here--which, there are alot of, I would like to say--it's pretty hard for me to believe that none of them have organizational skills, or at least the ambition to try to get a decent League off the ground. A Union, or a Club even...something. Seriously.
Anyway. I'm hoping that there really is one and I just haven't found it yet. Because, I suppose, it could stand to reason that an Evil League wouldn't be something that advertised itself very publically. Doing so would make recruiting easier, but...whatever. Some bulky guy in a mask that I bumped into in the hall mentioned something about a meeting. I told him I'd tag along, so...hopefully that will lead to something promising. He called it a 'self-betterment' group, but I'm fairly certain that was just his veiled way of meaning 'self-betterment at the expense of others' group.
Fingers crossed.
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