Generational Test - Finish the Lyrics:
"Hey now ___"
Half Pint Member
I'm the one that's alive. You're all dead.
- Last Seen: 2 hrs ago
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 570 (0.15 / day)
- VMs: 1
-
Username history
- Half Pint 2 yrs ago
- ██████████████ 10 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Ezekiel,
Sister Sable,
RPM,
Emma,
vue2026,
Morden Man,
KactusPunch,
Dezuel,
Guardian Angel Haruki,
Antlers
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
If you're checking out my profile, why not also check out World's Collide? We're always accepting new players and have a really friendly group who would be more than happy to get you up to speed with everything going on. We welcome players of all skill levels and would love to see what ideas you come up with!
Most Recent Posts
I've got the majority of my next post written, I just need to finish off some stuff and I should hopefully get it up on Thursday! Just as an FYI I have a BJJ competition this Saturday, so while I will be present on the thread as much as I can I may be slightly quieter as a lot of my time is going towards preparing for that!
Happy swamp ass saturday to those who celebrate. If the green I'm using for his dialogue isn't great to read for anyone, please let me know and I'll change it.
The animals of the forest did not scurry or run as the moving mass of green raised and lowered the trunklike legs and slowly made its way through the wood. Small, prey animals instincitvely run from danger, their nature overtakes them in all situations they feel threatened. A squirrel is just as likely to run from a wolf as it is a human trying to help it. And yet, no animal ran from the lumbering thing that had made their ecosystem its home. Perhaps because it had been his home far longer.
He couldn't remember who he was, not fully. Brief glimpses of a strangers life danced through his dreams and thoughts, nothing he could make sense of, but nothing he didn't feel familiar to.
The Swamp Thing knelt by the spring, his feet naturally growing roots and burrowing into the dirt below as he stopped. He could feel the life energy of nature pulsing through him, empowering him and connecting him to everything around him and further away. A large moss covered hand cupped water and raised it to his mouth. The water rippled with this interruption, and eventually calmed and settled, reflecting the face of the being in front.
A ridged nose below a face shaped not by flesh but by bark and moss, where deep-set amber eyes glowed faintly beneath a brow overgrown with lichen.
He stared into his reflection, not out of vanity - such things had long since left him, but in a desperate, wordless search for identity. The ripples distorted the image, twisting man and monster together until neither could be told apart.
He let out a long, slow sigh as he turned from the grim visage before him. As his breath hit the fertile soil a tiny bed of flowers sprouted and stared back at him. This elicited a smile, despite his lack of memory he was happy in the knowledge he was here to create rather than destroy.
The forest, as always, had no answer. Only the whisper of wind through branches that bowed reverently in his presence.
Then suddenly, disarray.
Birds began fleeing from their trees in the distance, branches from trees fell to the floor and were snapped in half, finally came the deer.
A young doe burst through the undergrowth not twenty feet from the spring, its chest heaving, eyes wide with terror. It wasn't running from him, it never did. It was running through him, its instincts overriding even the natural reverence of the creatures in his domain.
The Swamp Thing turned slowly, following the creature's line of flight. He could feel it now. The deep, steady pulse of disturbance traveling through the soil. A vibration out of rhythm with the Green. It was heavy, unnatural, automatic.
Engines.
His amber eyes narrowed, glowing faintly beneath the moss and vine. He crouched, laying a hand against the earth. The roots whispered to him, crying out in pain. Metal teeth were chewing through the dirt. Oil was seeping into the groundwater. Here they came, the monsters hellbent on destroying his home. Humans. armed ones.
He could feel their heartbeats as they trampled the underbrush, each step landing like a hammer strike against his chest. The forest stirred uneasily, a low rustling that passed through the canopy like a shiver. The air thickened with spores and mist, and the water at the spring rippled again.
The deer had long since vanished into the haze, but the message it carried lingered - the forest was afraid.
And so, it called to its guardian.
He moved over to a nearby tree, placing a hand against its bark as you would on a friend's shoulder.
"I'm sorry, old friend, but now is the time for action. Please lend me your co-operation."
The tree replied in a language only he could understand, and their forms became one. The Swamp Thing's consciousness transferring through the tree down to its roots and deep into the soil. His mind tangled with the mycorrhizal network and travelled through it, the thousands of interconnected beings all screaming out to him in fear and anger.
The whine of engines grew louder until they cut abruptly. Then came the hiss of hydraulics, the crunch of boots, and the hum of powered armor.
"Squad Alpha, spread out! Sweep formation!" barked a voice through a modulated mask. The men fanned out in disciplined lines, flamethrowers and pulse rifles at the ready. Their armor gleamed dull grey in the dim light, the Alchemax insignia stamped over their chests like a brand.
"Motion sensors picking up nothing." said one soldier, his visor flickering. "Could be interference-"
His sentence was cut short by a sound. A low, guttural creak, like the forest itself let out a sigh. He spun, torch beam slicing through the mist. Nothing. Only the silhouettes of trees looming close together, their trunks slick with rain and moss.
Then something moved, a silhouette, half-visible, slipped through the fog behind him. He turned again, finger tightening on the trigger.
"Contact?"
"Negative, sir. Just...I thought I saw-"
The tree behind him opened like the maw of some prehistoric beast. Bark split soundlessly, and a massive green hand shot out, wrapping around his helmeted head. His scream muffled almost instantly as the tree swallowed him whole. The trunk sealed shut again, leaving only a faint smear of blood and his rifle, cut in half by the closing tree.
The rest of the unit froze.
"Bravo-Seven, report!"
Their answer was static. Leaves rustled overhead. One of them fired upward in panic, bolts of plasma burning holes in the canopy. Charred leaves drifted down like black snow.
"Equip thermal optics! Movement on all sides!"
They turned in circles, sensors pinging red. The air grew humid, thick, choking. Steam rose from the damp soil as unseen vines crept through the underbrush. A flamethrower burst to life, washing fire across the ferns. The blaze illuminated something immense moving between the trees, a shape too big to be human.
Then came the sound, a crack and thud as a vine thicker than a man's torso lashed through the clearing, striking two of them off their feet. One hit a tree, spine snapping with a sickening crunch. The other disappeared into a bed of green, muffled cries fading beneath the dirt that rose up to trap him and filled his lungs.
The squad began to panic. Despite all their training, all their encounters with other humans, nothing could prepare them for this.
"Fall back! All units, regroup at the dropship!"
They fired wildly into the mist, bolts of plasma lighting the fog in strobing flashes. Shapes moved just outside their range of sight, shadows flowing through trees, crawling through the soil, wrapping around their legs and pulling them under.
Swamp Thing emerged from the earth itself, towering over the last three soldiers. Mud and moss fell from his shoulders like rain. His amber eyes burned through the haze.
"Fire!" screamed the squad leader.
Flamethrowers roared, but the fire bent away, curling harmlessly around him as vines erupted from the ground, ripping the weapons free. The heat only made him angrier, each layer of his bark shield that was stripped away only fuelling his rage.
He slammed a fist into the nearest man, the blow crumpling his armor like it was paper. Another swung his rifle, a vine coiled around his throat and yanked him upward into the branches.
The last soldier stumbled backward, trembling, visor fogged. "Please! Please, I was just following orders-!"
Swamp Thing loomed over him, staring through him with his orange eyes. For a moment he said nothing, as if he'd forgotten how to speak. The he opened his mouth, and his voice that sounded like the yawning of an avalanche tumbled out.
"Following orders..." He glanced down at his chestplate and the company name etched across it. "You would burn down this whole forest for your orders...unacceptable."
Roots surged from the soil, wrapping around the man and dragging him down through the forest and towards the muddy water of the swamp until only his screams remained. Then finally, silence again.
He stood among the wreckage of men and machines, the flames still burning softly as plants grew to snuff them out, the forest started to revive itself.
"Forgive me." he said quietly, as flowers began to bloom where blood had fallen.
@Half Pint@Bounce I've been thinking about my second character. Would it be alright to make a less formal character? Pretty much, Red Tornado as a Silver Age Beano/Dandy style character who's not on some grand quest or some greek epic to save the world. But just some middle-age mother of twins who puts a cooking pot on her head to save her little slice of New York when there's a cat in a tree or some Magia palooka's shaking down one of her favourite corner shops or maybe said palooka's have stolen some amazing invention from a scientist friend of hers to sell for the big bucks?
Pretty much a series of small, usually unconnected, silver-age style 1-shots with Ma Hunkle in her time between adventures just serving as a tertiary character for Captain Marvel, being that she's the type who would volunteer at F.E.A.S.T.
Or, would you rather reserve characters specifically for people who have more comprehensive stories? Because i can respect that.
It would all depend on what the application would look like and myself and Bounce's discussion regarding it afterwards. I don't necessarily have any problem with this outright, but it does feel a bit strange when side-by-side with the current roster of characters.
<Snipped quote by mickilennial>
<Snipped quote by Cyrania>
When I submitted my sheet on the basis of 'I'm trying to re-discover my ability to write and enjoy this long-time hobby of mine, and I do not intend to collaborate or interact with other players/characters for at least the first entire arc of my story', I meant it. I've been very clear about my intentions with my participation, both to GMs and other players. If it's rubbed anyone the wrong way then I consider that a small price to pay for what has been, so far, a very successful foray back into a pastime I love dearly but have had steadily robbed from me for the past two-and-a-bit years and won't apologise for it.
FWIW I’m really enjoying your Hellblazer posts and how they’re fleshing out the larger world of the RP. (Not just saying this because of the tennents mention in a previous post)
@Sep Spider-man is accepted!
Would anyone be interested in an epilogue after the event itself concludes?
Smaller stories where people can split off if they want, rescuing people from damaged or burning buildings, swapping superhero instagrams, or whatever?
I was thinking that could provide a transition either back to people's solo stories or set up where some might want to have a more 1 on 1 or small group interaction.
That would be great! It would be cool to build up friendships between everyone's characters for when larger scale events happen. Even some fun small posts where characters start hanging out inbetween larger plot threads would be great at some point!
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>
This raises a very good point since Bailey is headed that way, i kinda want him to show up to help, but at the same time, i'm terrified i'm gonna accidentally shit on someone's parade. Who would mind getting assistance from Bailey? I'm assuming @Half Pint by your "He shot off looking for any of the other heroes to regroup with." that's an invitation for people to make contact with Firestorm?
I wouldn't worry about that too much in the context of the event, as long as it isn't totally taking over everything or moving it in a direction that doesn't make sense I should think that interacting with anyone is fair game.
I think Bounce said earlier this may event may be resolved after another round or two of posting, so I was more looking to regroup as a whole with everyone and work towards the finale, whatever that may be, but yes definitely get involved if you'd like!
<Snipped quote by King Kindred>
I think the simplest thing is to not address it. Same as how theirs approximately one hero per square mile in New York City in Marvel but they aren't constantly tripping over eachother. Most of us will just assume Thor is elsewhere doing other things.
Things happen fast yknow, it would be cool to see people interacting/crossing over in the aftermath of these events though... I'm giving myself ideas.
This is my line of thinking also, unless it would be pertinent to your story that it was noticed Thor (or any other character for that matter) wasn't present I think it's fine to handwave it to keep things running smoothly.
© 2007-2026