Captain Uni

Harvest Moon Roleplay

@MissCapnCrunch
I would be a-okay with that. I guess we've got the new person spot covered then.

Harvest Moon Roleplay

Might go for the new person, portray them as a drifter who blew into town and survives off of odd jobs and living off the fat of the land, if that sounds okay.

Harvest Moon Roleplay

Oh my God Harvest Moon. I love Harvest Moon. Been a fan since I played Harvest Moon 64, and I've recently been replaying that, the original for SNES, and Friends of Mineral Town on emulators. If my schedule allows it then I will most definitely join this.

Justice League Unlimited vol. 2 iCheck

And it is finished.

The Question Vol. 2

Name:
Victor 'Vic' Sage (born Charles Victor Szasz)
Alias:
The Question
Age:
30 (born March 15th, 1988)
Personality:
Determined ? Bitter ? Snarky ? Curious ? Eccentric
Archetype:
Gadgeteer
Abilities/Gadgets:
Skilled Martial Artist: The Question is a skilled martial artist, having trained under Richard Dragon for a time. He also utilizes his former fighting style of dirty tricks and pragmatism, making him truly a force to be reckoned with.
Indomitable Will: Adding onto that last part about the Question being a force to be reckoned with, this extends to his willpower. He was able to drag himself out from the bottom of a river in the middle of winter, all after taking a brutal beating and being shot in the head by an air gun. Yes, he had help from Lady Shiva once he made it to the shore, but it doesn't change the fact that he's a damn resilient guy.
Master Detective: Though not on par with the Dark Knight, the Question is still a masterful investigator, able to spot the smallest of clues and make deductions from minuscule findings.
Tech Savvy: Again, though not on par with Batman, the Question also has a knack for technology. Primarily, his knowledge extends to hacking and managing the defense systems of Metro Tower; he knows little to none about the hardware aspect of technology.
Grappling Hook: The go-to mode of transportation for gadgeteers, able to scale large distances or buildings by just aiming and pushing a button.
Weaknesses:
Normal Human: Unlike most of the League, Vic is just a normal human. He still needs to eat, drink, and sleep, he is not fast enough to dodge bullets, he is not durable enough to shrug off knives and other weapons, and he is not strong enough to punch holes in concrete walls; he's just a normal man trying to do good.
Horrible With Others: Vic is very independent, and does not enjoy working with others. While he will suck it up most of the time, if someone comes up with a plan that he doesn't like, he will ignore it in favor of his own plan. Add to this his snarky attitude, and people aren't very willing to put up with him most of the time.
Appearance:
Vic Sage is a tall man who stands at 6'2 and has a very fit, muscular frame, weighing in at 189 pounds. He has short blond hair and icy blue eyes, as well as a rather ruggedly handsome face. Most often his attire consists of a suit and tie, which is what he wears to work as an investigative journalist for World Wide Broadcasting.
As the Question, Vic wears a mask made of an artificial skin known as Pseudoderm to mask his identity. The Pseudoderm is bonded to his face using a special gas, which is usually in an aerosol spray can. It also changes the color of his hair from blond to black by reacting with chemicals he sprays in his hair. Most often he wears a suit, trenchcoat, and fedora; however, on multiple occasions he has been known to wear street clothes instead.
Character Evolution:
Vic is still essentially an angry boy trapped in a man's body. Rather than go into therapy or something similar to cope with his problems, Vic has instead chosen to bottle up his anger and let it out in short, but powerful, bursts. I'd like to see him grow more as a person as the RP goes on, letting go of his anger and maybe finally understanding Richard Dragon's teachings as well. In addition, maybe an episode featuring Dragon or Lady Shiva or even an episode set in Hub City would be beneficial for the character.
As far as personal relationships, I liked the dynamic that Question and Blue Beetle had and hope to see more of that. Romance isn't a priority for this character, but if it happens naturally over the course of the RP then it happens.
Altered History:
This version of the Question has been changed up quite a bit, being three years older (and as such active for another three years) and having had his physical appearance altered drastically. He has trained with Richard Dragon after being 'killed' by Lady Shiva, but rather than adopting the Zen-like philosophy he took on in the comics it only served to make him angrier and more bitter than ever.
Recommended Background Leaguer:
Booster Gold
Bio:
Charles Victor Szasz was born to a prostitute and one of her clients, whom she only ever referred to as 'Walter'. Despite what most would think, his home life wasn't horrible, or at least it wasn't as bad as it could have been. His mother did her best to care for him, never blaming him for her problems or taking her anger out on him, and she ensured that Charlie had the best life that she could provide.

However, outside of home, Charlie was frequently the target of bullying and scorn due to his mother's profession and origin within the slums. Most of the time, Charlie would just take it and never react; however, when he was ten, he was taken away by Child Protective Services after getting into a fight with two boys who cornered him, which ended in one boy being blinded in one eye by a lit cigarette and the other having part of his cheek bitten off.

When asked what made him do this, he stated that they called him a 'whoreson' and various other things. Normally, he would be fine with this, but when one asked the other if he thought Charlie's mother would suck their dicks for a dollar, he flew into a rage. He was sent to a run-down home for problematic children, and everything he did that could be perceived as bad was punished with a few hard wraps on the knuckles with a yard stick. Despite many attempts, he never spent longer than a few weeks with a foster family, and Charlie spent the rest of his childhood and adolescence there.

At eighteen, Charlie was let go from the home. He did his best to track down his mother, only to discover that she had died two years earlier. Jobless, homeless, and with no hope left, he was found and taken in by a college professor named Aristotle 'Tot' Rodor, who became something like the father that Charlie never had. With Tot's help, Charlie got into college and graduated with a major in journalism.

He got a job at Hub City's biggest news station, World Wide Broadcasting, at the age of 22, and became an investigative journalist at the age of 24. Due to most people's inabilities to pronounce his last name, he changed his name to Victor Sage, or just Vic Sage, as a sort of stage name. Eventually, however, it stuck, and even people in his personal circle just called him Vic.

At 25, Tot approached Vic and informed him that one of his colleagues, Arby Twain, was going to sell a substance called Pseudoderm to third world countries despite its toxicity if applied to open wounds. Vic wanted to bring Twain to justice since the police would not owing to 'lack of evidence', but he could not do so as himself because of his famous features. Tot then suggested that Vic use a mask made of Pseudoderm to do so, and Vic agreed. Vic took Twain down, getting a recorded confession from him, before binding him in Pseudoderm and leaving him in front of the police station along with a copy of the confession.

After that, Vic decided that this new alter-ego would be useful, and began to use it to fight crime and dig up leads where he couldn't go as Vic Sage. Eventually, Tot modified the bonding gas for Pseudoderm to also change Vic's hair color, and Vic gave this alter-ego a name: The Question. And so, the faceless vigilante as we know him was born, and Hub City was never the same.

A year and a half ago, Vic was bested by the assassin Lady Shiva after deciding to go after her contractors at the time. He was beaten half to death by her and shot in the head with an air gun by a random mook before being dumped in a river. Miraculously, he survived with Shiva's assistance, and was taken to Richard Dragon in order to be trained. He did so, honing his skills, but did not manage to grasp Dragon's philosophical teachings and as a result just became angrier and more bitter. Now, armed with training in the martial arts, the Question is more dangerous than ever before and is just a powder keg waiting to go off.

It was around the time he returned to Hub City after training with Richard Dragon that he joined the Justice League, and he has stuck with them since. He has been of great help to the team, and was crucial in deducing the Society's goal for their first few attacks. The entire year, through thick and thin, the Question has been there, and plans on being there for another year and beyond that.
Notes:
This interpretation of the Question differs from the one in the original game, being more sociable and snarky and having more experience. He's less Rorschach, less JLU Question, and more the O'Neil characterization of Question before he was trained by Richard Dragon.
Vic's press pass.
The Question's grappling gun.
Sample Post:

Sample Post

A man finds himself in a dark bedroom late one night, searching for answers.

Who am I?

His name is Victor Sage. He is 30 years old. He is an anchorman for World Wide Broadcasting.

Not recalled, provided. Who are my parents?

His parents are Walter and Charlotte Sage.

What do they look like?

... His father is tall and muscular with a big bushy greying black beard and a full head of greying black hair, his mother was tall for a woman with a petite frame and long black hair he remembers braiding as a chi-

Ages?

... 54 and 51 respectively. His mother jokes that his father will die any day now because of all the cigarettes he smo-

Wrong, wrong, wrong, all wrong. Try again. Who am I?

His birth name is Victor Szasz. His professional name is Vic Sage, due to his uncommon last name. He is 30 years old. He is an investigative journalist and anchorman for World Wide Broadcasting.

Who are my parents?

... He does not know his father because he died before Victor was born, however he knows his father's name was Walter and his mother is Charlotte Szasz.

What does she look like?

... She is tall for a woman with a petite frame and black hair in a pixie cut.

Age?

... 51.

What does she do for a living?

She is a retired hair styl-

Wrong. Who am I?

His birth name is Charles Victor Szasz, however he changed his name to Vic Sage, due to his uncommon last name. He is 30 years old. He works as an investigative journalist for World Wide Broadcasting.

Who are my parents?

He doesn't know anything about his father apart from his name, Walter. His mother is Charlotte Szasz.

What does she look like?

She was tall for a woman with a petite frame and blond hair in a pixie cut.

Age?

She would be 51 this year, however she died at the age of 37.

Cause of death?

Murdered.

By who?

Her pimp.

What did she do for a living?

She was a prostitute.

Enough dillydallying. Who am I, really?

He is the Question.

That's right. Now make me remember everything.

He is 12. He remembers long, cold nights in a boys' home, often lying awake at night just listening to the rumbles of his empty stomach. He went hungry because he wasn't good enough for food today.

He is 18. He remembers long, cold nights in an abandoned apartment complex, often lying awake at night just listening to the rumbles of his empty stomach. He went hungry because he couldn't scrape together enough money from his begging for food today.

He is 19. He remembers the feeling of bones breaking against his knuckles as he pummeled a drug dealer for selling him bad acid. He had bought the acid to experiment and found himself faced with a psychedelic version of his life up until now. It scared him.

He is 26. He remembers long, cold nights in Hub City, walking through the streets and alleys of the hellhole looking for criminals to pummel to a pulp. He went on because he felt if he didn't no one else would.

He is 28. He remembers a girl that was maybe four or five, frail little body covered in black and blue bruises from a belt, and carrying her away from the equally bruised and battered body of her unconscious father.

He is 29. He remembers the feeling of hitting the cold water and sinking, his ears ringing, his body broken and battered, but using his good arm (or at least not as horribly broken arm) he begins to swim to the shore.

He is 30. He remembers being in the lounge of the Metro Tower before falling into this nightmare.

In the blink of an eye, he finds himself going from the dark bedroom to sitting on a couch in Metro Tower's lounge. The Leaguers nearby are all frozen, and sitting next to him is the also frozen form of Scarlet Scarab, his half-formed statement about something the R&D department at Kord Industries is working on not leaving his lips.

He finishes up his mental countdown. Two minutes and twenty one seconds to break the illusion.

The Question awakens a choice number of Leaguers (Scarlet Scarab would be nursing that black eye for a week) to help him figure out what's happening. They rooted the problem out, and discovered that it was an alien lifeform that puts its prey in a docile state by trapping them in an illusion of a perfect world before devouring them.

"Well, that was a plot worthy of Star Trek." The Question comments, before heading to his room to retire for the night.

Justice League Unlimited vol. 2 iCheck

Hoping to finish up my CS today.

Justice League Unlimited vol. 2 iCheck

You know I'm interested, man. Gonna get Question vol 2 up ASAP.

Heroes Reborn - A DCAU Roleplay (Always open!)

December 24th, 11:03 PM
Kasimir Castle; Gotham City, New Jersey
'Well, while we're still here, might as well enjoy his antics right now.'

The road from Gotham City to Kasimir Castle was empty that night, as it usually was; the mansion was rather secluded, and only rarely did people visit it. All was quiet, save for the soft chirping of crickets on the lonesome country road, prepared for yet another uneventful night... That is, until a yellow Camaro came zooming down the road, a song cranked to max volume emanating from the open windows.

"COUNTRY ROOOOOOOOADS, TAKE ME HOOOOOOOOME! TO THE PLAAAAAAAAACE, I BELOOOOOOONG!" David sang along loudly, his already mediocre singing voice made all the worse by the slurring of his words, a side effect of his drunkenness. "Man... It's a shame that game sucked so much," he chuckled to himself, keeping one hand on the steering wheel as he used the other to adjust the collar of his shirt in order to hide a little... Present, he had received on his neck after playing 7 Minutes in Heaven at the party with Ellen Walker from Chemistry.

"Where's the fuckin'... Oh, there." He grabbed his flask, given to him by his pal and the party's host Tommy, and filled with Jack Daniels from said party. After unscrewing it deftly with one hand, David began to chug it down like it was water. Suddenly, he moved his flask away from his mouth and spit out what he had drank, remembering the fact that he would have to sneak back into his room and hide his hickey from Zoey until it was gone. And that's not to mention the horrible hangover he was going to have in the morning.

Shrugging, he took another swig from his flask, deciding that he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it.

Like mother, like son.

Not a few minutes later, David was pulling into the driveway of the mansion, only to stop upon seeing a group of mythological creatures, all entangled by vines, in his path. David looked at his flask, looked back at the creatures, then back at his flask. "Either Tommy drugged me, or there are things right outta the fucking Odyssey in my front yard." David muttered to himself. He blinked, still there. He rubbed his eyes once, twice, still there. "... Shit. Can't go a damn day without something fucking everything up."

Sighing, the boy exited his car, only tripping over his feet a few times as he made his way to the hidden entrance into the Grim Grotto. He tried to force himself to sober up, and managed to focus a bit, or at least focus more than he was a few minutes ago. 'Here's hoping mom and Malcolm are down there trying to figure out a way to fix this FUBAR mess.' With that in mind, he entered the Grotto.

Justice League Unlimited

@ineffable
You can find the group shot in the zeroth post of any of the tabs. The only change (that I see, that is) is that she now has short sleeves instead of her costume being sleeveless.

Heroes Reborn - A DCAU Roleplay (Always open!)

3:53 PM, October 30th
Kasimir Castle; Gotham City, New Jersey
'... Whoops. Looks like I overshot the memory jump... So much so we came right back around to his teenage years. I'll keep trying.'

"Mom, I'm ho-" David's usual greeting was cut off as he noticed dozens of children in his home. "What the fuck?" His backpack falling out of his hands, the young man stood in awe at the crowd of children. They barely paid him any mind, instead choosing to play or talk or eat from a large tray of snacks that was set out. '... Okay, seriously, what is going on?' Surely there was a logical explanation for there being upwards of a hundred kids in his house, right? Right?

"I think Malcolm might've made mom want a lot of kids..." He muttered to himself, before hearing a loud CRASH! to his right. He broke into a sprint, heading towards the source of the sound and finding himself in one of the Castle's various studies. There, some kids were looking at the shattered remains of a bust, a panicked expression on their faces. "Hey! Get outta here, scram!" He shouted, and with that the children bolted out of the room as quickly as they could.

David sighed, "... Shit."

"David..." Came a strained voice from above "Hey... Dave! Up here!"

Directly above the young teenager and completely flush with the ceiling, having wedged himself between a support beam and the wall about twenty feet up, and going red in the face from the effort to stay up there... was Malcolm.

"...Little help?"

One Hour and Forty-Five Minutes Earlier...

For the first time in a long time, Malcolm was... relaxed; sitting cross-legged in an old, comfy chair in a warm, quiet room with an old book in front of him, and of course, no one trying to murder him at that exact second in time. Last night was the first decent night's sleep he'd had in nearly a year, thanks to Zoey's quick thinking, sewing skills and being the kind of person that just had some lead plates lying around, and today the first day he'd simply just... sat, having been nose-deep in the writings of Mark Twain since he woke up; The combination of his youthful imagination and his powerful metahuman brain having made reading an actual book a particularly engrossing experience as his mind's eye played the whole story out to him in incredible detail.

...Which goes some way towards explaining why the boy who could see for miles, through anything not made of lead, was caught off guard by a tiny fucking corgi that came barrelling into the room at mach-speed.

"What the Sam-Fuck!?" The small Bludhaven-boy cried out as he was unceremoniously yanked back into reality by the feeling of something small and fuzzy zooming past his legs, causing him to leap out of his chair like it was on fire.

"I think he went this way!"

'Whowhat?'

Malcolm froze, staring straight ahead, out the window. That sounded almost like... a kid. A whole... lot of kids, in fact, judging by the rippling soundwaves bouncing across his vision from behind.

Slowly turning around, body steadily filling more and more with dread, he finally cast his metahuman eyes across the Castle's interior.

'Oh...'

Kids. Hundreds of them. Everywhere. Where they came from, none could say, but they were everywhere.

...Including the hallway leading to this room. On a warpath, looking for a puppy.

Idly, Malcolm's hand went to his neck, only to find his trademark welding goggles absent for the first time in months.

'Oh that's not good...'

One Hour and Forty-Three Minutes Earlier...

'Okay Mally, don't freak out. Once they find the dog, it'll bolt again, they'll chase it, and you can come right back down and sneak out...'

A sound plan. A good plan. One that would surely have worked... had the corgi puppy in question not immediately flipped over on it's back and whined for belly rubs the second the invading children found it on the floor directly beneath where Malcolm was hiding.

'Oh, fer...'

One Hour Earlier...

"Hey, guys! Come play with the dog!"

"Aww, he likes you!"

'Ker, could you stop being a slut for FIVE. FUCKING. MINUTES?'

Thirty Minutes Earlier...

"He's so cute when he's sleepy..."

'AAAAHHHHHH!'

Now...

"Dude... seriously... gonna need'ja ta catch me..." Malcolm groaned, his body shaking in protest and beads of sweat coming off his head.

David was still stunned at the fact that there were so many kids in the house. Now he was even more stunned that his new brother was currently hanging onto a pillar for dear life. "How the hell did... Nevermind, just jump and I'll catch you."

"Thank... fuck..." Was all Malcolm could grunt as he abruptly let go and plummeted straight down towards his foster-brother of one day, wincing, and eyes shut as he mentally braced for the possibility of making a red stain on Zoey's nice carpeted floor.

David braced himself, catching Malcolm and nearly falling over, his knees buckling from the added weight. "Hurk! Man, you are heavier than I thought you'd be..." David muttered, before setting Malcolm down. "So why were you up there? It's not like... Oh, right." David stopped himself, upon remembering his foster brother's glowing orange eyes.

"... Why don't we head out for a bit, until this whole... Thing, gets sorted out?

Making a pained sound as he flapped his arms to get the feeling back in 'em, Malcolm took a minute to answer, after a long series of muttered curses that were directed towards something that sounded awfully like 'fuzzy little slut'.

"...What'd ya have in mind?"

Just a few minutes later, and the boys were driving out of the castle's driveway in David's new Camaro. "Wanna go get something to eat or something?" David asked Malcolm.

Malcolm, this being only the second time in a car in his entire goddamn life, almost didn't heard David's question from his current position on cloud fucking nine.

"Wait, what?" He started for a second, before his brain caught back up to reality "Oh. Food. Hell yeah, I'm down to eat anything that isn't made of rat!"

"Sweet! We can head to Big Belly Burger, I heard they came out with some wings recently." With that, all went silent for a short while. "... Let's listen to some tunes." David began to fiddle with the radio, going past several different stations.

"-WOOP WOOP! THAT'S THE SOUND OF THE POL-"

"-I'm Slim Shady, yes I'm the real Sha-"

"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?"

David paused, not changing the station any further, then grinned as he began to sing along to the song.

Malcolm's head perked up at that, casting a raised brow towards his foster-brother as he began to sing...

The sight of the other boy was kinda ridiculous in his mind, but after a second or two, a small smile began to break out onto his face; his unique way of comprehending the world, the tiny explosions in the engine, the soundwaves dancing from the stereo and even the neurons firing in Dave's brain painted a picture that... he didn't dislike, as he began to hum along to the tune and strum his hands along the dash to the beat.

A hell of a thing, considering the kid comprehended the world as if it were constantly on fire.

"What is this, anyway?" The younger boy asked after a while.

Malcolm's question caused Dave's singing (and almost his driving) to come to a grinding halt. "Dude? Have you never heard Bohemian Rhapsody? Queen?"

A quirked brow met Dave's question.

"Bowman Whatnow? Malcolm asked, head tilting slightly
"Never owned a radio, Dave. No idea what'cher talking about."

"... Mal, this is a once in a lifetime experience. Your first time listening to Bohemian Rhapsody should send you to another planet, nay, another galaxy, nay, another universe. Let's quiet down now." With that, David shushed up, allowing his foster brother to just listen to the song.

"Ooookay?" Malcolm started at that particular statement, but kept quiet as Dave requested, closing his eyes to just listen to the beat... of course, closing his eyes made no difference, considering his eyelids weren't made of lead, but it did help him relax.

...After a few seconds, his fingers began rapping on the dashboard again.

His head began to bob side to side as the sounds thundered across his vision like art, his shoulders began to follow the motion of his melon and then, inexplicably, by something that could only be attributed to the perfect alignments of stars, planets and the will of a few gods, he began to sing along. The ridiculous reaction-time of his brain synching to the lyrics as they poured from the speakers.

"I see a little silhouetto of a man..."

David grinned, deciding to continue singing along as well. "Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the fandango?"

"Thunderbolt and lightning, very, very fright'ning me!" Malcolm continued, with more fire now as his enhanced senses began to pump a healthy dose of endorphins into his brain at this newfound stimulus.

"Galileo!"

"Galileo!"

"Galileo!"

"Galileo!"

"Galileo Figaro Magnifico-oh-ohhh!"

"I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me..."

"He's just a poor boy from a poor family, spare him his life from this monstrosity!"

There were a few seconds as both brothers played fake piano on the dash.

"Easy come, easy go, will you let me go-hooo?"

"Bismillah! No, we will not let you go!"

"Let him go! Bismillah! We will not let you go!"

"Let him go! Bismillah! We will not let you go!"

"Let me go! "Will not let you go!"

"Let me go! "Never let you go!"

"Let me go-oh-ooooooh!"

"No! no! no! no! no! no! NO!"

Ferociously, Malcolm's fist rose to the heavens as if in scorn for the Gods themselves.

"OH MAMMA-MIA, MAMMA-MIA! MAMMA-MIA LET ME GO!"

"Beelzebub has the devil put aside for me, fooor meeeee, fooor meeeeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeeeeee!" David sang, his voice cracking. It was just a few moments before that David had accidentally pocket-dialed Zoey.

---

Steel-blue eyes cut away from the FBI Agent as a familiar buzz lit up against Zoey's hip, slender fingers retrieving the expensive black phone. A glance at the caller ID had a frown crossing her face before she held up a hand.

"Excuse me a moment, Agent Ramsey. My son is calling - no doubt wondering about... this," For a moment she gestured to one of the small office's walls, out towards where the myriad of children were no doubt decimating some very expensive things. The billionaire slid her thumb across the screen and lifted it to her ear. "Hello Da-"

"-fooor meeeee, fooor meeeeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Zoey quickly brought the phone away from her ear, the singing coming from it easily heard in the small space. For a moment she could only stare incredulously at the speaker, just for the edges of her lips to twitch up as David's voice cracked. A soft chuckle built up in her throat hearing the music drifting in, the muffled voices of David and Malcolm singing along. Neither of her boys would be winning American Idol anytime soon. For a moment the vigilante could only stare fondly at her phone before finally hitting the end call button, having figured out quickly it was merely a "butt dial" as the kids say.

At least her strays were getting along.

"... I'm sorry Agent Ramsey, you were saying?"

---

David pulled into the drive-thru of Big Belly Burger, he and his brother wildly headbanging. "Big Belly Burger, how may I help you?"

"Huh? Oh, right, uhhh, two orders of the Big Belly Buffalo Wings, and a large Coke. Uh, wait." David turned to Malcolm, "What do you want to drink, bud?"

"Uhh..." Malcolm deadpanned a minute, brows knit in confusion at what he'd heard and what he'd been asked "...Did you just order cocaine?"

"What? No! It's Coca-Cola, it's a soft drink." David sighed, remembering that his new brother probably wasn't used to ordering food from fast food places. "... How about a Sprite or something?"

"I... guess?" Malcolm shrugged, clearly not knowing the correct answer either way. "So long as it's not dirty water, I'm good."

"It's far from dirty water, my friend." David turned back to the intercom, "And a large Sprite."

"Okay, that'll be $11.89. Please proceed to the next window." With that, David went to the next window, receiving and paying for the pair's food and drinks. He pulled into a nearby alley, pulling their food out of the bag and handing Malcolm his drink. The younger lad examining the cup with a comically perplexed look on his face.

"It's... fizzy." He finally said after a moment of staring and downright constipated-looking expressions... and then took in a gulp.

There was another bit of silence from the boy as his head craned to the side and his lips smacked a few times.

"Holy fucking shit."

"Holy fucking shit is right." David said around a mouthful of buffalo wing. He looked up, and spotted something peculiar in the rearview mirror. He saw the silhouettes of a group of men, all beating on another man on the ground. He nudged Malcolm, pointing at the mirror. "... I see a little silhoutto of a man."

Very calmly taking a long sip of his drink and giving a satisfied sigh, the younger brother in question raised his brow at his elder for a second before carefully placing his food and drink down where it wouldn't fall over and make a mess.

"Scaramouche, Scaramouche..." He sang, popping his knuckles as an aggressively hooliganish sneer danced it's way onto his features. "Will ya do the Fandango?"

Justice League Unlimited

@NecroKnight
The guy wearing the brown jacket over his uniform.