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1 yr ago
Current It's too late. Always has been. Always will be.
1 yr ago
Life is just death in drag.
3 yrs ago
He has no friends, but he gets a lot of mail. I'll bet he spent a little time in jail.
4 yrs ago
jesse i have no money for fuckijg bills and steam sales
4 yrs ago
DO NOT REINCARNATE

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Zeka would like to sell you some girl scout cookies dictatorship of the proletariat.
January 1st, 10:26 AM (Eastern USA)
Justice Station, Space


On the command deck of Justice Station, the headquarters of the Justice League, red warning lights lit and klaxons blared. Computer screens diverted to emergency protocols, displaying the immanent threat to the space station. "PROJECTILE INBOUND," displayed the monitors, as automated systems shouted the same message over the intercom systems. Automated defense systems fired, but whatever was speeding toward the station was too small and too fast for them to destroy it.

Detailed analysis only provoked more questions. The projectile was radioactive, that was for certain. It energy signature was consistent with that of a thermonuclear detonation, only it was moving, rather than static. No launch had been detected, either. It was like a living bomb was heading straight for Justice Station.

And then, just as quickly as it had appeared on their systems, it stopped. The radiation signature did not disappear, it just stopped. Barely a meter from the station itself, this nuclear threat merely hovered, only moving to keep pace with the station as it sailed through Earth's orbit. Exterior cameras scanned the space outside the station for whatever this thing was, and eventually they found the anomaly that they had been searching for.

It was a man. Or rather, a statue resembling a man, carved from shining black stone. It even wore a cream-colored suit and collared shirt, though it wasn't wearing shoes. It hovered just outside one of the major airlock hatches, yellow eyes burning in the vacuum of space. Then it moved, such hesitation in its movement that it seemed almost cautious. The statue-man merely knocked against the airlock hatch with the back of its fist, as though it were knocking on the front door of a house, sending a reverberating clanging echoing through the station's halls.
Interested but I'd like to see a sample character before making my own, if possible.
@Divine Darkness That's the second time I've heard that comparison. Can't say I'm especially familiar with the character.
I'll see how successfully the IC gets off the ground before I consider a second character. Might go with my original alien idea.
Very ready to begin.



@Alfhedil Could probably just end up wherever the hell she wants.
Feels more sensible for Zeka to end up in New York rather than LA or someplace.
Zeka:

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