FacePunch

The Corrigan School for Advanced Learning and Development (A DC School RP)

Merry Christmas/Hanaka/Quanza everybody!

FacePunch's Gallery of WIPs

[SIZE=7]Asgard[/SIZE]

Leader: All-Father Odin Borson

Reason For Being Here: The World Eater, Galactus, has fallen in battle. His death has freed the great death entity known as Abraxas from his chains. Abraxas sought revenge against Eternity for imprisoning him and lashed out against the multiverse, the life force of Eternity. Solar systems were shattered by a swing of his arm. Galaxies burned in impossible fire when he spoke. There was no escaping the destruction of the universes. The heroes of earth and beyond put up a combined front in an effort to stop the malevolent monstrosity. For months, the might of all the multiverse held the beast at bay. But without Galactus' might, they only delayed the inevitable. Many races sought to leave their home multiverse. They used whatever magic, science or divine intervention they could muster to leave. TOAA, The One Above All, the God of this multiverse, assisted in the evacuation. He promised that the multiverse would be restored and the people returned in time. But for now, they had to abandon their homeworlds to Abraxas.

Asgard was one of the last worlds to leave. Odin Borson was no coward; he refused to run. He gathered up all of the Odinforce within him and attempted to meet Abraxas head on. He struck the being with all the power he had. But even the strength to crack worlds could not budge Abraxas. Odin was severely wounded and drained of most of his power before his son, Thor, teleported them back to Asgard where TOAA transported them to a far away universe, where they would remain in refugee until this great war was done.

Civilians: 1,600,000,000,000

The Asgardian Military (Quintus):[/B]

Battleworlds: Double Strike Craft (Fighter)
Leviathans: Double Strike Craft (Bomber)
Dreadnoughts: Double Strike Craft (Interceptor)
Battleships: Double Strike Craft (Gunships)
Cruisers: Double Super strike craft
Destroyers: Double Superheavies
Frigates: Double Heavy Units
Corvettes: Double Light Units

Super strike craft: 20,480 x4 = 81,920 Valkyrior (Dragon-mounted)
Strike craft (interceptors): 160,000 x4 = 640,000 Valkyrior (winged)
Strike craft (fighters): 160,000 x4 = 640,000 Valkyrior (Pegasus-mounted; armed with spears/swords)
Strike craft (Bombers): 160,000 x4 = 640,000 Valkyrior (Pegasus mounted; armed with bows)
Strike craft (Gunships): 160,000 x4 = 640,000 Valkyrior (Giant eagles; multiple Valkyrior per eagle)

Ground units:

Colossi: Double Super Infantry
Titans: Double Special Infantry
Giants: Double Elite Infantry

Superheavies: 800,000 x2 = 1,600,000 Wyrms (Wingless dragons)
Heavy units: 4,000,000 x2 = 8,000,000 Giants (Armored)
Medium units: 16,000,000 x2 = 32,000,000 Asgardian Warriors (War Boar-mounted)
Light units: 40,000,000 x2 = 80,000,000 Elvish Rangers (Horse-mounted)
Special Infantry: 1,600,000 x2 = 32,000,000 Asgardian Magicians
Super infantry: 160,000,000 x2 = 320,000,000 Asgardian Warriors
Elite Infantry: 1,600,000,000 x2 = 3,200,000 Elvish Rangers
Basic infantry: Double heroes
Chaff Infantry: Double Medium Units

Super Aerocraft: Double Super Strike Craft
Aerocraft (interceptors): Double Strike Craft (interceptors)
Aerocraft (fighters): Double Strike Craft (Fighters)
Aerocraft (Bombers): Double Strike Craft (Bombers)
Aerocraft (Gunships): Double Strike Craft (Gunships)

Heroes: 160 x2 = 320

[spoiler=List of Heroes]

Major Gods-

Odin (All-Father)
Thor (Protector of Asgard and heir to the throne)
Loki (Adopted son of Odin and Trickster)
Balder (Son of Odin and God of Light)
Sif (Shield Maiden of Asgard and former lover of Thor)
Hogun (Member of the Warriors Three)
Fandral (Member of the Warriors Three)
Volstagg (Member of the Warriors Three)
Frigga (Master Sorceress, mother of Balder and current wife of Odin)
Heimdall (Watcher over the Rainbow Bridge and brother of Sif)
Amora The Enchantress (Sorceress and trickster turned temporary ally of Thor thanks to Abraxas)

Minor Gods-

Tyr (Judge)
Idun (Keeper of Immortal Apples)
Bragi (Asgardian Poet)
Forseti (Lawyer)
A whole lot more

Major Allies:

Beta Ray Bill (Wields Stormbreaker; equal of Thor)
Eric Masterson (Wields Thunderstrike; equal of Thor)
Red Norvell (Wields Crusher; equal of Thor)
Jane Foster (Wields Jarnbjorn; slightly above the Warriors Three but below Thor)
King Sindri (Majesty of the remaining dwarfs who have taken refugee on Asgard)
Freyr (God over all Light Elves whom reside in Asgard)
Utgard-Loki (King of all Frost Giants and begrudging ally of Odin)

Minor Allies:

Various Elf, Dwarf, and Giant gods and leaders

[/spoiler]

[spoiler=Traits]
Strengths-

Gods Among Men: Asgardians cannot die of old age. They are impossibly hard to kill, though it can be managed. The lowest of Asgardian people are completely immune to small caliber slug weapons such as pistols or sub machine guns. They can survive extreme temperatures and pressures, allowing them to survive in a vacuum for extended periods of time, (although Valkyrior must undergo extensive magical enchanting before they are able to survive indefinitely in space) An Asgardian requires minimal oxygen to live, and thus can hold their breath for hours on end. Asgardians possess superhuman strength, speed, stamina, and agility unparalleled by many races. A trained warrior can bend steel, outrun a cheetah and perform feats of gymnastics that would make human Olympic competitors look like children.

Almighty Defenders: Odin, Thor, Beta Ray Bill, Thunderstrike...Asgard is shielded from reproach by the most powerful heroes in the known galaxy. Men and women who can singlehandedly hold off entire fleets and stop armies in their tracks. They are a force to be reckoned with, that much is assured.

Natural Magicians: Asgardians are all born with innate connections to magic. They are able to pick up, learn and train in new arts quite easily. Everything Asgard uses to compete with other civilizations comes from their magic. Faster Than Light travel, impossibly durable armors, arrows capable of piercing a ship's hull. All powered by magic.

Weaknesses-

A House Divided: Ever since the fall of their home universe, the many of the peoples of the nine realms have been forced to live and survive together on Asgard. Some of them being former enemies. The threat of Ambraxas looming over them is what allowed such a volatile alliance to exist; but without a big bad on the horizon, alliances are not going to last long. Relations are already beginning to break down and its all the kings can do to stave off war. Hopefully when they find a new land to settle the various races will spread out and tension will fall.

Technophobe: Asgardians do not trust technology, especially technology as advanced as the things they have and will continue to encounter in this new universe. They refuse to integrate anything new into their culture and society and as such cannot compete against enemy armies and fleets in the conventional way.

Who Watches the Watcher: The only reason a much larger nation can't park its fleet in orbit and bombard Asgard into oblivion is the watchful, vigilant eye of Asgard's heroes. They must always be on the alert for invasion. Therefore, an offensive front is nigh impossible to construct during a full-fledged war. There are only so many powerful heroes to go around; and the vast majority of them must stay and protect Asgard, leaving little room for attack. [/spoiler]

The Corrigan School for Advanced Learning and Development (A DC School RP)

<Snipped quote by FacePunch>

Well, it's room temperature fire, so I figured... Uh... That it wouldn't kill S'tann?

I can always edit to make it that Andy powered down when he sat next to him.

@GreenGrenade

It won't kill him. But its basically like getting slapped in the face repeatedly, even at room temperature. So it'll piss him off. A lot.

The Corrigan School for Advanced Learning and Development (A DC School RP)

...So Andy decided to sit next to the Martian while covered in fire? RIP.

The Corrigan School for Advanced Learning and Development (A DC School RP)

Corrigan Rec Center
October 31st, 2025
9:55 AM

The sound of flesh impacting against metal reverberated across the Recreational Center's fitness section. S'tann had sneaked (read: phased) inside yesterday after his classes, his mind stuck on the A.R.C Session and his failure as a leader. He'd spent the last thirteen or so hours pushing his body to the absolute limit. There is success to be found in adversity, after all. The Martian's fist collided with the metahuman punching bag, knocking the thirty ton hunk of metal backwards with the force of his hits. Sweat dripped from his jade jaw line, staining his Martian robes in salt water. S'tann had under performed. He could have done so much more for the team. Even with half of them hesitating, refusing to go on even before the power outage, S'tann could have doubled down and taken out the Suicide Squad. Well. He could at the very least have tried. S'tonn took a step back, unleashing a butterfly kick on the defenseless device. The machine swung up, slammed into the ceiling and cracked the concrete with its momentum and force. The punching bag came falling back down and swung in the opposite direction, and smashed the distracted Legacy right in the nose.

"Fuck!"

Martian Boy placed a palm against his face, silently cursing in every language he knew. A chuckle escaped from the mouth of an unseen bystander. Jason Todd appeared from around the corner and leaned against the wall. He had the stupidest 'you're an idiot' grin on his face. "What?" S'tann practically spat before he stood up to his full height and let go of his nose. "Don't you have anything better to do?" Jason shrugged. "Nothing this entertaining." The guy was as irritating an asshole as he was a terrifying vigilante. "Screw you." S'tann muttered. He turned back to the punching bag, striking it once more. This time he was aware enough to move out of the way. "That anyway to talk to your teacher?" Todd asked. "I'm sorry. I meant 'Screw you, sir.' Any better?" The coach scowled. He obviously wasn't used to being talked back to. Especially not from students. "Why you little piece of-" Red Hood started. He stopped himself, taking in a deep breathe. Chancellor Gordon, or whatever the hell she was calling herself these days, wasn't at all impressed with the former Robin's colorful vocabulary. One of the compromises of his employment involved Mr. Todd attempting to censor himself.

Or so the gossip went.

"Just get out of my gym. You're supposed to be at breakfast and I haven't opened the doors to students yet. When the hell'd you get in here?"

S'tann stopped beating on the punching bag and glanced over at Jason Todd. "What time is it?"

The coach checked his watch. "Almost ten."

"Well, I got here at nine o' clock-"

"-That's it-"

"-Last night."

"Oh."

"Mhm."

"Just get out." Jason sighed. He was visibly tired. Mornings were rough on everyone, it seemed. Although Jason's night owl activities he was so accustomed to most likely didn't help the matter. S'tann grabbed the punching bag, halting its momentum. He turned towards the exit and started to make it way toward the door, but he decided to stop once he stood next to Todd. "Don't open the broom closet, by the way. I got a little...carried away." Legacy smirked and continued on his way. "The broom closet...?" Red Hood muttered, making his way to the back of the fitness center toward a door on the far wall. S'tann S'tonn phased through the door and made his way towards his dorm. There was a faint sound of damaged gym equipment spilling over the floor, and a much less faint "FUCKING ALIENS." from the beloved coach.

---
S'tonn/Luthor Dormitory
October 31, 2025
10:15 AM

There was nothing more rejuvenating than a warm shower and a moment with the "Call of the Rogues" album by the Pied Pipers. They were a new indie group that wrote about the various big baddies of the world. This particular album was their first one, about the gang of super criminals who fought the Flashes. It was their best work, in S'tann's opinion. They were quite a versatile little band. S'tann stepped out of the shower, turning off the water to the shower, S'tann shape shifted into his human form and stepped into the hall. As he walked, his clothes formed around him to his usual attire. His body was attuned to the molecular make up of this particular outfit, and as such required much less concentration and energy to create and maintain. He briefly wondered if Julian had noticed S'tann's absence last night. Or if Luthor had gone into the dorms at all. S'tann stepped through the wall and into the light of day, feeling the cool air against his face. Earth was so very cold. He'd never get used to that. Mars was always warm; the Vega system was warmer than this shit.

S'tann sighed; a bad idea, considering the sharp pain now running through his side. Legacy placed a tender hand against his ribs. Stewart's explosives had been far more powerful than the Martian would have liked. If he hadn't shielded the rest of the team...well, there'd be a lot of broken bones. S'tann made his way towards the mess hall, dodging through various clicks on his way to feed the grumbling monster in his stomach. He'd need to grab a coffee, too, if he wanted to stay awake in his first hour class. No doubt S'tann would be kept awake tonight too, what with it being Halloween and all. Ugh. Halloween. The Martian despised it. What was the point? He could look identical to anything in the known galaxy. And he could get candy whenever he desired. The only decent function of the day was to allow S'tann to fuck with people. Even then, that was something he could do any day. The only mildly different event would be the dance being held later that night. Dancing was a waste of time too. A bunch of oddly dressed fools drunkenly stumbling to the most bland, annoying, mainstream music the "DJ" could find.

Basically, earth sucks. But S'tann already knew that.

S'tann waltzed through the glass walls of the cafeteria and grabbed himself a plate full of bacon, eggs and pancakes. And a coffee cup the size of the Eiffel Tower. The Martian shuffled through the throngs of people, looking for somewhere he could sit. There were plenty of tables with seats open; however, he didn't know three fourths of the people sitting at them. Despite what he may say, S'tann still required social interaction to stay sane. So the Martian floated through the mess hall, looking around for a place to go. He noticed Mari waving to someone that most certainly couldn't be him and decided that was as good a place as any to start. He took a seat on the opposite side of the table to her, shuffling to the edge of the bench. "Having a bearable morning, I assume? You haven't killed yourself, so that's a plus." He said before stuffing his face full of deliciousness. Once he'd finished a pancake, he set his silverware down and looked up at Grayson. "You think our rescheduled match'll just take up from where we left off? Or perhaps the teams will stay the same, but the mission will be restarted. Either way, we should talk strategy with the rest of the team. Find out where we went wrong and compensate for next time, ya know?" He paused before adding. "Unless you're fine with staying a loser, that is."

FacePunch's Gallery of WIPs

Corrigan Rec Center
October 31st, 2025
9:55 AM

The sound of flesh impacting against metal reverberated across the Recreational Center's fitness section. S'tann had sneaked (read: phased) inside yesterday after his classes, his mind stuck on the A.R.C Session and his failure as a leader. He'd spent the last thirteen or so hours pushing his body to the absolute limit. There is success to be found in adversity, after all. The Martian's fist collided with the metahuman punching bag, knocking the thirty ton hunk of metal backwards with the force of his hits. Sweat dripped from his jade jaw line, staining his Martian robes in salt water. S'tann had under performed. He could have done so much more for the team. Even with half of them hesitating, refusing to go on even before the power outage, S'tann could have doubled down and taken out the Suicide Squad. Well. He could at the very least have tried. S'tonn took a step back, unleashing a butterfly kick on the defenseless device. The machine swung up, slammed into the ceiling and cracked the concrete with its momentum and force. The punching bag came falling back down and swung in the opposite direction, and smashed the distracted Legacy right in the nose.

"Fuck!"

Martian Boy placed a palm against his face, silently cursing in every language he knew. A chuckle escaped from the mouth of an unseen bystander. Jason Todd appeared from around the corner and leaned against the wall. He had the stupidest 'you're an idiot' grin on his face. "What?" S'tann practically spat before he stood up to his full height and let go of his nose. "Don't you have anything better to do?" Jason shrugged. "Nothing this entertaining." The guy was as irritating an asshole as he was a terrifying vigilante. "Screw you." S'tann muttered. He turned back to the punching bag, striking it once more. This time he was aware enough to move out of the way. "That anyway to talk to your teacher?" Todd asked. "I'm sorry. I meant 'Screw you, sir.' Any better?" The coach scowled. He obviously wasn't used to being talked back to. Especially not from students. "Why you little piece of-" Red Hood started. He stopped himself, taking in a deep breathe. Chancellor Gordon, or whatever the hell she was calling herself these days, wasn't at all impressed with the former Robin's colorful vocabulary. One of the compromises of his employment involved Mr. Todd attempting to censor himself.

Or so the gossip went.

"Just get out of my gym. You're supposed to be at breakfast and I haven't opened the doors to students yet. When the hell'd you get in here?"

S'tann stopped beating on the punching bag and glanced over at Jason Todd. "What time is it?"

The coach checked his watch. "Almost ten."

"Well, I got here at nine o' clock-"

"-That's it-"

"-Last night."

"Oh."

"Mhm."

"Just get out." Jason sighed. He was visibly tired. Mornings were rough on everyone, it seemed. Although Jason's night owl activities he was so accustomed to most likely didn't help the matter. S'tann grabbed the punching bag, halting its momentum. He turned towards the exit and started to make it way toward the door, but he decided to stop once he stood next to Todd. "Don't open the broom closet, by the way. I got a little...carried away." Legacy smirked and continued on his way. "The broom closet...?" Red Hood muttered, making his way to the back of the fitness center toward a door on the far wall. S'tann S'tonn phased through the door and made his way towards his dorm. There was a faint sound of damaged gym equipment spilling over the floor, and a much less faint "FUCKING ALIENS." from the beloved coach.

---
S'tonn/Luthor Dormitory
October 31, 2025
10:15 AM

There was nothing more rejuvenating than a warm shower and a moment with the "Call of the Rogues" album by the Pied Pipers. They were a new indie group that wrote about the various big baddies of the world. This particular album was their first one, about the gang of super criminals who fought the Flashes. It was their best work, in S'tann's opinion. They were quite a versatile little band. S'tann stepped out of the shower, turning off the water to the shower, S'tann shape shifted into his human form and stepped into the hall. As he walked, his clothes formed around him to his usual attire. His body was attuned to the molecular make up of this particular outfit, and as such required much less concentration and energy to create and maintain. He briefly wondered if Julian had noticed S'tann's absence last night. Or if Luthor had gone into the dorms at all. S'tann stepped through the wall and into the light of day, feeling the cool air against his face. Earth was so very cold. He'd never get used to that. Mars was always warm; the Vega system was warmer than this shit.

S'tann sighed; a bad idea, considering the sharp pain now running through his side. Legacy placed a tender hand against his ribs. Stewart's explosives had been far more powerful than the Martian would have liked. If he hadn't shielded the rest of the team...well, there'd be a lot of broken bones. S'tann made his way towards the mess hall, dodging through various clicks on his way to feed the grumbling monster in his stomach. He'd need to grab a coffee, too, if he wanted to stay awake in his first hour class. No doubt S'tann would be kept awake tonight too, what with it being Halloween and all. Ugh. Halloween. The Martian despised it. What was the point? He could look identical to anything in the known galaxy. And he could get candy whenever he desired. The only decent function of the day was to allow S'tann to fuck with people. Even then, that was something he could do any day. The only mildly different event would be the dance being held later that night. Dancing was a waste of time too. A bunch of oddly dressed fools drunkenly stumbling to the most bland, annoying, mainstream music the "DJ" could find.

Basically, earth sucks. But S'tann already knew that.

S'tann waltzed through the glass walls of the cafeteria and grabbed himself a plate full of bacon, eggs and pancakes. And a coffee cup the size of the Eiffel Tower. The Martian shuffled through the throngs of people, looking for somewhere he could sit. There were plenty of tables with seats open; however, he didn't know three fourths of the people sitting at them. Despite what he may say, S'tann still required social interaction to stay sane. So the Martian floated through the mess hall, looking around for a place to go. He noticed Mari waving to someone that most certainly couldn't be him and decided that was as good a place as any to start. He took a seat on the opposite side of the table to her, shuffling to the edge of the bench. "Having a bearable morning, I assume? You haven't killed yourself, so that's a plus." He said before stuffing his face full of deliciousness.

The Sun Will Never Set (Reboot)

@ZB1996 I was thinking it's an ancient practice only common among the river troll sub species. Most modern trolls see it as barbaric and horrific; and as such, river trolls are generally outcast from troll society.

The Sun Will Never Set (Reboot)

<Snipped quote by FacePunch>

Alright, 300 planes is more like it and if you want a bit more of a navy, go ahead. Now that the food thing is settled and the air force too, you're sheet is accepted (I'll be checking if you changed the things we discussed).

Also, loved the opening post.

@Voltus_Ventus

I've already done so. The improved navy would make sense, what with the absolute necessity of their naval shipping lines. I'll probably add another patrol-style ship to the roster for that purpose.

And thank you.

The Sun Will Never Set (Reboot)

@FacePunch I would have preferred it if you posted the NS in the OOC, and waited for approval before putting it in the NS tab but I guess I can live with it.

Ok, after reading it I have a few criticisms that I'd like to make, or rather things I want to point out. As a revolutionary force, with only two cities, how does your "nation" have control so many damn planes? Unless the elves stole 600 biplanes, 200 fighters, etc and flew them all the way to your land, I don't see how you've acquired them and if that's the case, the elves must hate you.

Another point, population, again, maybe it's because you didn't specify how much land you've taken by showing a map but I doubt two cities and the out lying areas are enough to feed the 20 something million inhabitants of the cities, especially with that growth you're projecting.

@Voltus_Ventus

My apologies. I took @Mihndar's earlier comment as approval. I should have waited for you specifically. Meh bad. Let me address your concerns, however.

1. The planes are supposed to be donations taken from anonymous individuals over the past century. Most of them are quite old and ineffectual against modern aircraft, especially the biplanes. Although I must admit a thousand does seem a bit excessive for such a small force. How does three hundred sound? Keeping in mind that the majority will be out of date biplanes and such.

2. I'm not very knowledgeable on such things as population statistics and sustenance farming. The area controlled by the DRA is outlined here. That's the poorly drawn squiggly lines underneath Moravia. How would you feel if I dropped the population growth projection to 50,000 and said that the DRA relies heavily on imported food to survive? The food shortage would also make for a decent storyline outlining why the DRA has chosen now to begin attacking their neighbors instead of fifty years ago.

FacePunch's Gallery of WIPs

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