“I thought we agreed that you wouldn't act through the day, it destroys the air of mystery,”
“You agreed, I was neutral on the subject,” The Fire-Bird, Phoenix's top of the line, customised, VTOL jet tore across the Astro city skyline like a bird of prey on the hunt. The aircraft looked like the unholy child of a peregrine and F16 falcon, and was kitted out with the most cutting edge technology in the world. Anti-personal and vehicle weapons, stealth systems capable of fooling the worlds most powerful government agencies, a thruster system capable of breaking the sound barrier. It was Phoenix's pride and joy.
“Coming up on the memorial park now, hostile's are in sight,” Ambrose had caught wind of the Metropolitan making a move in the city through his sources and had told Phoenix, thinking the vigilante would pass the information on to some other hero situated in Astro. He hadn't counted on Pheonix wanting to get involved himself, but in retrospect he should have known. Chris always preferred doing things himself rather than involving anyone else.
“Well can you at least fight them from the Fire-Bird?”
“No can do Ambrose, I need to stretch my legs.” Stated Phoenix in return. Leaving the VTOL hovering above the impromptu battleground the vigilante ejected some thirty feet in the air. He spread his cape out wide to slow his descent, gliding quickly towards a group of hoodies who were preparing a rope to tear the Silver Avenger's statue down. Phoenix's booted feet crunched into one hooligan's face, who proceeded to crumple like a paper bag. The hoodies took a second to take stock of this newest hero to spring on the scene, before rushing in to attack him. A bad move all round.
A nose exploded under Phoenix's gauntleted fist, while another villain took a boot to the solar plexus. New York's dark avenger took the crooks down with a ruthless efficiency, the vigilante showing a complete economy of movement. No fancy flips or flourishes, no showing off, just a brutal barrage of bone crunching combat that left the vandals no more than broken heaps on the ground. He was taking out his frustration's for being unable to catch Whitechapel on these hoodies.
He might not kill them, but they might wish that he had.
An Outsider
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A Glorious Failure
STATUS: Ever had that moment were you've just lost a battle of wills with your dog and think to yourself, "maybe I should be the one sleeping on the floor"? I have. It's oddly liberating. 8 yrs ago
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Ever had that moment were you've just lost a battle of wills with your dog and think to yourself, "maybe I should be the one sleeping on the floor"? I have. It's oddly liberating.
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9 yrs ago
My Lit Lecturer used Matt Fraction's Hawkeye run to display the effect of narratology in class today. It's the first thing he's spoken about all term that I've actually read.
9 yrs ago
How good is the Punisher in Netflix's Daredevil series? "Just some guys who are about to walk into a diner for the last time." That line is so manly it could make a toddler sprout a beard.
9 yrs ago
The Justice League trailer is giving me mixed emotions. On the one hand, I desperately want to get hyped. On the other, Snyder and co have burnt me too many times in the past. I'm a conflicted mess.
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9 yrs ago
What? The Lethal Weapon tv show isn't utter garbage at all, instead being an enjoyable watch. What the fuck is the world coming to?
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Bio
For all you know I'm handsome as hell. Let's keep it that way.
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Magnar's face contorted strangely as he tried not to show his unease at Salaak's appearance. He was still getting used to all the myriad creatures the universe had to offer. Where he came from if something looked different from ya then there was a good chance it was trying to kill you, or you were trying to kill it. Different rules now though. Just hope I'm not so old that I can't change to suit em. Salaak began to outline the mission they'd been set (although Magnar had to admit he bristled a little at being called a rookie. Been a long time since he'd thought of himself as anything but old.) Sounded like some punk named Larfleeze was raiding a defenceless planet, and the lantern's were to sally forth and smite the bugger. The recruits were to be bolstered by a senior member, a big armoured looking fella by name of Stel. Magnar was uncomfortably reminded of the steel golem's that warlocks employed back on his planet, used to terrorise those foolish enough to cross the Mage's council.
Stel had them recharge at the Central battery before leading the charge to sector 1861.
Magnar's inexperience with the ring was telling during the hyperspace flight, his style considerably less graceful than his comrades. Kilowog, the Corps drillmaster, had told him that his flying problem was a mental failing rather than a physical one, that Magnar lacked confidence in flight which translated to a lacklustre ability to soar. Sounded like black magic to the Undying, though he never said as much to the senior lantern.
He was so deep in concentration trying to keep up with the young'uns that he almost missed one of them griping about the mission at hand. Big long speech the boy had too, obviously brewing since he'd first heard of their mission. The Undying usually didn't waste too much time on moaner's, but the lad was raising some valid points. After all, the danger was likely to be extremely high if this 'Larfleeze' had managed to subdue a whole planet on his lonesome.
“Doubt they're just gonna throw us away lad, good soldiers are had to come by. Either way, we've got a job to do, and once you set yourself to a job it's best you just keep moving forwards. Double guessing yourself gets you nothing but a whole lotta dead.” Replied Magnar, as much to all the recruits as to the young lad causing the fuss. Nothing worse than going into a battle with allies who weren't willing to fight to their last.
Stel had them recharge at the Central battery before leading the charge to sector 1861.
Magnar's inexperience with the ring was telling during the hyperspace flight, his style considerably less graceful than his comrades. Kilowog, the Corps drillmaster, had told him that his flying problem was a mental failing rather than a physical one, that Magnar lacked confidence in flight which translated to a lacklustre ability to soar. Sounded like black magic to the Undying, though he never said as much to the senior lantern.
He was so deep in concentration trying to keep up with the young'uns that he almost missed one of them griping about the mission at hand. Big long speech the boy had too, obviously brewing since he'd first heard of their mission. The Undying usually didn't waste too much time on moaner's, but the lad was raising some valid points. After all, the danger was likely to be extremely high if this 'Larfleeze' had managed to subdue a whole planet on his lonesome.
“Doubt they're just gonna throw us away lad, good soldiers are had to come by. Either way, we've got a job to do, and once you set yourself to a job it's best you just keep moving forwards. Double guessing yourself gets you nothing but a whole lotta dead.” Replied Magnar, as much to all the recruits as to the young lad causing the fuss. Nothing worse than going into a battle with allies who weren't willing to fight to their last.
Corraich took up place at the rear of their motley crew after realising that the elf Airthel knew his stuff when it came to tracking. Probably go as far to say he was as good as a Chasind, which is no small compliment. The elf set a steady pace, the further out from Val Royeux they got the tougher the trek became. The Wilder didn't envy the Grey Warden in his armour then, he could only imagine what a sweaty mess the man must be on the inside. Eventually the group found a trail of blood and arrows, as ominous a sign as Corraich had ever seen. The grizzly tracks led them to a small grove, puddles of congealing blood dotting the forest floor.
"Never a good sign," he muttered under his breath, long years of practice telling him now would be a good time to ready his axe. The Warden crossed over to one of the puddles and took himself a little taste. Probably one of the stranger sights Corraich had seen, stranger still was the fact that the man knew what human blood tasted like. The Wilder didn't like that little revelation about his new companion one bit, but never got a chance to pass comment on it before the grove exploded into action.
"Wolves!" cried the warden, several grey shapes flitting from the tree line and charging the little fellowship. The mangy beast looked half starved, strange when there's so many refugees about. The big barbarian didn't dwell to long on that though, not if he wanted to live through this wee encounter. One of the bigger beasts peeled off from the group, howling as it pounced at Corraich. The wolf was too quick for the Chasind to bring his long-axe to bare, instead his left arm shot out to grasp the rabid animal's throat in a vice like grip. He held it there, suspended in the air as it pawed at him uselessly, snarling like a demon in the Chantry. He snarled at it in return, before throwing it back to the ground. The wolf hit the floor with a yelp, but before it could get its bearings the big man drove his axe deep into the beasts belly, putting paid to anymore resistance.
A quick scan revealed that the other beasts had been dealt with, save two that were on fire. Airthel took down one with an impressive bit of shooting, so Corraich strode to the other, a fall of his axe putting the creature out of it's misery.
"Where's the Warden?" he grunted at the two elves, before noticing all the wolves taken down by Dalish arrows, more arrows than Airthel could have possibly fired in the short fight. The big man lifted his axe to a fighting position once more, his practiced eyes scanning the undergrowth for any other surprises.
"Never a good sign," he muttered under his breath, long years of practice telling him now would be a good time to ready his axe. The Warden crossed over to one of the puddles and took himself a little taste. Probably one of the stranger sights Corraich had seen, stranger still was the fact that the man knew what human blood tasted like. The Wilder didn't like that little revelation about his new companion one bit, but never got a chance to pass comment on it before the grove exploded into action.
"Wolves!" cried the warden, several grey shapes flitting from the tree line and charging the little fellowship. The mangy beast looked half starved, strange when there's so many refugees about. The big barbarian didn't dwell to long on that though, not if he wanted to live through this wee encounter. One of the bigger beasts peeled off from the group, howling as it pounced at Corraich. The wolf was too quick for the Chasind to bring his long-axe to bare, instead his left arm shot out to grasp the rabid animal's throat in a vice like grip. He held it there, suspended in the air as it pawed at him uselessly, snarling like a demon in the Chantry. He snarled at it in return, before throwing it back to the ground. The wolf hit the floor with a yelp, but before it could get its bearings the big man drove his axe deep into the beasts belly, putting paid to anymore resistance.
A quick scan revealed that the other beasts had been dealt with, save two that were on fire. Airthel took down one with an impressive bit of shooting, so Corraich strode to the other, a fall of his axe putting the creature out of it's misery.
"Where's the Warden?" he grunted at the two elves, before noticing all the wolves taken down by Dalish arrows, more arrows than Airthel could have possibly fired in the short fight. The big man lifted his axe to a fighting position once more, his practiced eyes scanning the undergrowth for any other surprises.
So wait, are all the wolves dead? If so then that's kind of a rip, seeing as PerniciousIntent or I never even got to post. What were we doing, twiddling our thumbs while hungry wolves attacked?
I've edited Magnar's age a bit. I think it would play off well with the other guys if he was a bit older, about middle-aged for his species.
Go easy on him guys, he's getting on in years.
Go easy on him guys, he's getting on in years.
"All Lanterns receiving this message report to Lantern Salaak outside of the Central Battery for an emergency situation in sector 1-8-6-1..." Magnar shot up with a start, his eyes darting around the room, trying to find the whoreson who had managed to sneak up on him, before realising it was only the ring. He still hadn't gotten used to the blasted thing giving him orders. To his mind trinkets should keep their thoughts to themselves, but maybe he was old fashioned like that.
"Quiet dammit," he ordered, shaking his hand to no avail. The ring kept on bleating it's damned message.
Kav seemed to have gotten the same missive from his ring and raised himself, thanking Magnar for the drink which he left half finished. Magnar sighed at the sight of the desultory effort the younger fella had made at the beer, if he needed anymore of a sign that he wasn't home anymore that was it. Alcohol never went to waste were he came from. The big man picked himself out of his chair and followed Kav at a more sedate pace. Let the younger lads rush around, he was getting to old for that sort of malarkey.
A short flight later and he was at the place the lanterns called the 'Central Battery', dropping down between Kav and a boy wearing a green visor he hadn't met before, showing all the grace of a sick duck falling from the air. Even after all this time he was still a pretty poor flier, but to him that wasn't much of a surprise. Magnar was of a mind that man was never sposed to fly, fancy green magic or no. He tried to ignore the looks he received after his poor landing, acting like he was just waiting patiently for Salaak.
"Quiet dammit," he ordered, shaking his hand to no avail. The ring kept on bleating it's damned message.
Kav seemed to have gotten the same missive from his ring and raised himself, thanking Magnar for the drink which he left half finished. Magnar sighed at the sight of the desultory effort the younger fella had made at the beer, if he needed anymore of a sign that he wasn't home anymore that was it. Alcohol never went to waste were he came from. The big man picked himself out of his chair and followed Kav at a more sedate pace. Let the younger lads rush around, he was getting to old for that sort of malarkey.
A short flight later and he was at the place the lanterns called the 'Central Battery', dropping down between Kav and a boy wearing a green visor he hadn't met before, showing all the grace of a sick duck falling from the air. Even after all this time he was still a pretty poor flier, but to him that wasn't much of a surprise. Magnar was of a mind that man was never sposed to fly, fancy green magic or no. He tried to ignore the looks he received after his poor landing, acting like he was just waiting patiently for Salaak.
“Jeez Volt, this is the dumbest thing you've ever done!” The Lightning-Slinger was starting to seriously consider ending his partnership with Silvertongue, the man just wasn't adding anything constructive to the relationship any more. Fireballs and explosions were starting to get perilously close to the Scotsman now, so close he was pretty sure that his hair had been singed a time or too. Thanks to his super-charged stamina he wasn't going to tire any time soon, but it wouldn't be long till one of those bank-robbing radge's got lucky and managed to tag him.
He threw himself forward, narrowly dodging a glowing fireball that had his name on it, hitting the ground and rolling to his feet. Disaster struck though, as his foot slipped on an uneven tile, the Lightning-slinger stumbling awkwardlyThis is it then, a quick blast in the back and it's time to check out. Sorry Daniel, I tried. Lord knows I tried. The expected blast never hit though. Volt couldn't believe his luck, swinging around to see what had happened to his aggressors. He was just in time to see the b-e-autiful sight of Boomer slugging Burnout across the room. He wasn't quite sure what had happened between the two, but he was damn thankful for whatever it was. His reprieve was short lived though, as Boomer sent a couple more desultory blasts his way, then started glowing yellow. In my experience, glowing villains are bad
The Lightning-Slinger quickly realised that Boomer was building himself up for an explosion, and if his concussive blasts were anything to go by then this was gonna be one powerful kaboom. Panic 's greasy tendrils nearly grasped Tommy then, his eyes shooting to the door and the one exit. He took one faltering step towards salvation before he managed to catch himself. Yes, he might be able to run, and yes he would probably live, but then he what would happen to everyone still in the bank? Nothing good, he guessed. One death on his conscience was heavy enough weight for him.
Hi-Voltage began to 'fire up' as well, blue arks of lightning crackling around his arms and chest, his eyes turning a bright blue as the power welled up inside of him. He had no time to keep his power in check, he just knew that he had to put Boomer down quick. He raised his arms, taking careful aim at Boomer's centre mass.
One Shot. Make it count, Tommy-Boy
He fired. And prayed.
He threw himself forward, narrowly dodging a glowing fireball that had his name on it, hitting the ground and rolling to his feet. Disaster struck though, as his foot slipped on an uneven tile, the Lightning-slinger stumbling awkwardlyThis is it then, a quick blast in the back and it's time to check out. Sorry Daniel, I tried. Lord knows I tried. The expected blast never hit though. Volt couldn't believe his luck, swinging around to see what had happened to his aggressors. He was just in time to see the b-e-autiful sight of Boomer slugging Burnout across the room. He wasn't quite sure what had happened between the two, but he was damn thankful for whatever it was. His reprieve was short lived though, as Boomer sent a couple more desultory blasts his way, then started glowing yellow. In my experience, glowing villains are bad
The Lightning-Slinger quickly realised that Boomer was building himself up for an explosion, and if his concussive blasts were anything to go by then this was gonna be one powerful kaboom. Panic 's greasy tendrils nearly grasped Tommy then, his eyes shooting to the door and the one exit. He took one faltering step towards salvation before he managed to catch himself. Yes, he might be able to run, and yes he would probably live, but then he what would happen to everyone still in the bank? Nothing good, he guessed. One death on his conscience was heavy enough weight for him.
Hi-Voltage began to 'fire up' as well, blue arks of lightning crackling around his arms and chest, his eyes turning a bright blue as the power welled up inside of him. He had no time to keep his power in check, he just knew that he had to put Boomer down quick. He raised his arms, taking careful aim at Boomer's centre mass.
One Shot. Make it count, Tommy-Boy
He fired. And prayed.
BigPapaBelial said
I was going to say Herakles originally. But then thought better of it.
If you're not wanting Herakles then do you mind if I take him?
PerniciousIntent said and smelled the bundle to see what she had used to make it. Smelling things like willow bark and tea tree oil, a few different possible locations pooped into his mind.
I know it's (probabaly) a typo, but that sentence had me in stiches.
Hey Vancexentan, aren't we supposed to be meeting Salaak outside the central battery BEFORE going to the sector in question?
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