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Steel - Part 1.03 - Shout



The armored truck rumbled through midday Metropolis, its dull-blue frame sweating under the beating sun. Inside, the two guards treated it like any other shift. Complaining about traffic, sports, and the way their sandwiches always got soggy no matter what. By lunchtime they'd be out of food and scavenging among the city's food trucks like clockwork.

They'd just finished their last morning pickup at Metropolis Central Bank, the rear compartment now packed full of cash bags stacked to the ceiling. All that was left was the drive back to headquarters, unload the haul, and drown in the mountain of paperwork waiting for them. Not exactly thrilling work, but it paid the bills.

As they rolled past a construction site, the passenger frowned. It was unusually quiet for this hour - no drills, no shouting, no clanging metal. He checked his watch. Lunch break, maybe. He muttered something about unions, earning only an eye-roll from his partner.

Then a massive cement mixer suddenly lurched backward out of the construction lot, its engine growling as it swung wide into the road directly across their path.

"Whoa!" the driver barked, slamming the brakes as hard as he could. The armored truck screeched, tires biting hard into the asphalt, coming to a jolting stop just inches from the mixer's hulking metal side.

The passenger's sandwich slid off his lap. He didn't even have time to curse before his partner muttered, "That's not right, what kinda asshole just pulls out onto the road like that?"

"I dunno, but whoever he is he just cost me my lunch." He said, opening the door to the truck and hopping out onto the street below.

As he approached the mixer he habitually adjusted his belt, pulling the weight of the revolver in its holster up like he was John Wayne.

"Hey, what's the big idea?! Move this thing we got a schedule to keep!" He called out. His answer was silence, he called again - this time with far more explitives. The man in the mixer finally got out, he was wearing a blue jumpsuit and a mask.

"Hey, buddy - halloween's not for a few months, now are you going to move that thing or am I going to have to make you mov-"

A tire iron whistled through the air and slammed across his jaw, folding him to the pavement like a sack of grain. The world went white around the edges as he dropped face-first into the dust.

"Son of a!" the armored truck's driver cursed, reaching for his radio.

Before he could grab it, the construction-site fence to their right erupted with movement. Four more figures poured out wearing the same blue jumpsuits and cheap masks. Two armed with crowbars, one with a pistol, and the last with a sawed-off shotgun held at his side.

The shotgun wielder tapped twice on the armored truck's window with the barrel of the gun. "Alright, sweetheart." he called in a sing-song voice from behind his mask. "Get outta the truck and unlock the back. No one else needs to get hurt today."

The driver froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't paid enough to pretend to be. Still, for a moment he thought about grabbing his revolver and making a move. Common sense overtook bravery though, and he slowly and cautiously exited the car, the barrel of the gun still pointed at his neck.

Their slow movement towards the back of the vehicle was interrupted by a mighty thoom followed by the noise of concrete raining down on the ground. They both turned in time to catch Steel sending a mighty punch to the gut of the tire iron wielder.

The impact sent the masked man sailing backward into a stack of rebar with a metallic crash, bending the rods like matchsticks around his unconscious body. The other robbers jolted in shock, stumbling back from the scene as dust rolled off the crater Steel had just formed in the pavement.

Steel straightened, the afternoon sun gleaming off the brushed metal of his armor. He didn't speak as he gazed at the startled robbers. He let out a sigh, lazily swinging his hammer into a rest position against his shoulder as he surveyed the situation, his eyes finally resting on the shotgun user.

Great, John thought behind his visor, another detour. And I'm definitely going to be late now.

The shotgun-wielding robber recovered first, jerking the weapon up. "S-stay back! I swear to God I'll-"

Steel swung his hammer and threw it in the air, catching pretty much everyone off guard as they traced its trajectory. It sailed into the sky, higher and higher and didn't seem to be coming back down anytime soon.

The robbers looked at each other - obviously confused about this turn of events. "Are you - are you kidding me?!" the one with the pistol yelped, fumbling with his weapon.

His hands shook so hard he nearly dropped it, finally he raised it just in time for Steel to deftly swat it away with a metal hand. It spun into the air, bounced off a traffic sign, and skittered across the asphalt.

The other two robbers looked at each other, then turned to run. From the looks of this guy their puny melee weapons would barely make a dent in his armor. Steel raised his fist for a moment, feeling the jet boosters in his shoes begin to fire up.

No. Focus, John. No broken bones. No hospital bills. You're here to stop them, not kill them. He shot over and grabbed a length of rebar from the collapsed stack, bent it around his leg with a single motion, and hurled the newly shaped metal hoop like a discus. It caught both fleeing men at the knees, taking them down together in a graceless tangle of arms and legs.

"Hey, asshole! I've still got a hostage!" Steels attention was brought back to the man with the shotgun, aiming a fraction of an inch away from the drivers neck. "And I'm gonna get my money and you ain't followin' or this guy gets it!"

He grumbled, absent mindedly glancing down at the clock on his HUD. He was later than late now.

Finally his hammer shot down from the heavens. Calculating the most optimal path to fly behind the robber as Steel targeted him through his visor. It zipped back and forth in straight lines, finally arriving behind the man and barrelling towards him, cleanly knocking him out and sending him skidding along the ground on his face as it returned to its masters hand.

The scene settled, only the noise of pained groaning and engines running breaking the silence. The armored truck driver stared, stunned, his hands hovering in surrender even though the threat was long gone.

Steel turned to him. "You alright?" His voice came out modulated. Enough that it sounded something like the human inside, but not so much that he could be identified.

"Y-yeah, I guess so." the guard managed, nodding rapidly. "Jeez, I thought I was a goner there!"

Steel gave a small nod and scanned the area for more threats. None left standing. His boots began to warm up as he prepared to fly off. Maybe he could make it just in time, if he left now and got changed quickly he might only be fashionably late rather than just normal rudely late.

A tiny voice echoed through his advanced hearing equipment. His visor triangulated it a few streets over, "Excuse me! Could someone please help an old woman!"

Steel flew over to find an elderly woman standing at the crosswalk, clutching her grocery bag like a shield. She looked shocked at the sight of the metal man, but sensing he wasn't a threat managed to squeek out "Are you...? Could you maybe help me across? The light's been broken all morning and those cars just keep barreling through..."

Steel blinked behind his visor. The interview was in forty minutes. He didn't have time for this at all.

But what were heroes for if not this?

He sighed quietly and holstered the hammer.

"Of course, ma'am." he said, stepping to her side. "Let's go."

Her arm looped around his huge metallic one, and together they walked across the street as the drivers on both sides screeched to abrupt, terrified halts at the sight of an eight-foot armored figure escorting a grandmother through traffic.

"Such nice manners!" she said sweetly. "You remind me of my Harold."

"Thank you, ma'am."

When they reached the other side, she patted his gauntlet. "You be safe, dear!"

"I'll try!"

He launched himself skyward a moment later, boosters flaring as he arced over the city.

He was definitely late for the interview now.




Clay frowned at the sight of his brother, rushing out of the taxi and pulling on his blazer over a black turtleneck and running up the stairs two at a time to the Luthorcorp building. At this point he might've prepared him to not show up at all for how late he was.

John slid his glasses on and made some small attempt to explain himself. "I know, I know, I'm late-"

"Save it." Clay interrupted, holding up his hand. "Let's not make ourselves any later than we already are. Hopefully I know the guy doing the interview."

The two entered the lobby. It was huge, modern, and abuzz with activity. Men in suits carrying briefcases passed side by side with scientists in labcoats. Important looking businessmen sat on luxurious chairs, impatiently tapping their feet as they were forced to wait.

Clay approached the receptionists desk. "Hey, Tracy. This is my very inconsiderate brother John - could you please call up and let the team know he’s here for his interview and deeply, profoundly sorry for being late?"

John shot him a harsh look. Tracy laughed into her headset as she dialed. "Of course, Mr. Irons. They were expecting him a little earlier, but...oh." Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh, he's coming down himself."

Clay blinked. "He? Who's 'he'?"

Before Tracy could answer, the elevator doors behind them slid open with a soft chime. A shock of red hair exited - Lex Luthor himself.

"Clay!" Lex greeted smoothly, extending a hand. "Always good to see you. How are things on the fourth floor?"

Clay shook it a little too eagerly. "Mr. Luthor. Appreciate you taking the time, really didn't expect-"

"And this" Lex said, turning his attention to John with a smile that could've lit the whole lobby, "Must be the older Irons brother I've heard so much about."

John felt a flicker of instinctive discomfort. Not exactly intimidation, just that uncomfortable sensation of being too closely evaluated. The kind of feeling you get in your gut when you know something's wrong but can't place what it is.

"John Henry Irons, sir." he said, offering a handshake. "And again, I apologize for being late. Something unexpected came up."

Lex chuckled lightly, waving it off. "If I held lateness against brilliant men, I'd have no scientists whatsoever. Come, let's talk. And please, call me Lex."

His tone left no room for disagreement as he gestured toward the private elevator. Clay mouthed good luck behind him as John followed Lex inside.

The moment the doors slid shut, Lex clasped his hands behind his back. "So." he began, "I've read your file. MIT. Honors. Your patents on modular magnetic propulsion. Your work on advanced kinetic dampening. And of course..." He paused almost as if to add effect. "Your time with AmerTek."

John felt a wave of stress wash over him. AmerTek was bound to come up at some point during the interview, but he thought he'd have more time to mentally prepare. Lex noticed and smiled gently, trying to relax him.

"You're worried we'll want you for weapons manufacturing." John didn't speak. Lex continued anyway, his voice softening as if confiding a secret. "I run a corporation, not an army, Mr. Irons. The world has more than enough men building better bullets. I am far more interested in men who build better futures." His gaze turned to the elevator doors as though addressing the entire city beyond them. "Metropolis deserves infrastructure that doesn't crumble every decade. Energy solutions that don't depend on foreign markets. Clean, safe, advanced systems. That is what LuthorCorp will create."

He turned back to John with a small, earnest smile. John knew better than to comment that the business wasn't in the young entrepeneurs hands - yet at least.

"And that is why I want you here." Continued Lex.

The elevator opened onto a pristine white hallway, all glass partitions and chrome accents. Scientists, engineers, and analysts moved with purpose in every direction. That feeling in his stomach was fading away, Lex had a natural talent for disarming people's suspicion with words.

"And as luck would have it" Lex continued, "Your orientation will begin with someone far more pleasant than I."

A woman approached from the opposite end of the hall. She was in her late twenties, with red hair tied back in a neat ponytail, and striking green eyes. She wore a slim-fit suit and carried a digital tablet under one arm. When she saw Lex, she smiled in a way that was felt genuine, one shared between friends rather than an employee and a boss.

"Mr. Luthor." she greeted. "You wanted me to assist with the Irons interview?"

Lex stepped aside. "John Henry Irons, this is Lana Lang. Head of Public Communications and Special Projects. She'll be joining us today."

Lana extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Irons. Clay talks about you all the time."

John shook her hand. "Only the bad stuff, I hope."

She grinned. "Mostly embarrassing stuff."

Lex clapped his hands together lightly. "Shall we begin?"

He led them into the first lab: a spacious workshop filled with prototype drones, robotics, and half-assembled exoskeletal rigs. There wasn't a weapon in sight, or even anything that resembled one.

"Here at LuthorCorp-" Lex said as they walked, "We're not trying to control the world. We're trying to improve it." He gestured toward a group of engineers working on a luminous energy coil. "Clean power. Safer transportation. Urban solutions that could transform every major city on Earth."

Lana watched John carefully out of the corner of her eye, as if she was measuring his reactions. John's gaze was firmly fixed on the numerous inventions littered throughout the workshops. He was trying to spot any slip-up, any sign that Luthorcorp was up to no good.

"And this-" Lex added as they approached another glass-enclosed lab "is only the beginning. Mr. Irons, I'd like you to consider not just a job here, but a legacy. Something worthy of your mind."

John stared through the glass at a towering array of industrial stabilizers and magnetic containment fields—technology far beyond anything AmerTek had ever dreamed of.

He had sworn he'd never step back into a lab like this. And yet, he felt a calling within him. Maybe for all the good he could do as Steel there was a greater good he could do here. Maybe the worlds problems could be solved a screwdriver rather than a hammer.

"What's the catch here, Lex." Finally the ginger haired man was taken off guard. "This all feels to good to be true."

Finally he replied. "No catch." He shook his head. "None at all. Your brother has spoken highly of you and by all accounts my research tells me any lab would be lucky to have you. I'm writing you a blank cheque, John. With my money and your brain I think we can change the world. I'm just glad those dogs at Hammer Industries haven't got to you first."

John's gaze swept back through the lab, staring past the machines and out the window to the city below.

"Look, just give it a try. The money's good and you have my word your work will never be twisted into something you'd be ashamed of. Not here. Not under me."

John didn't answer immediately. He stood there, arms crossed and deep in thought. Lana stepped closer and broke the silence. "Mr. Irons" she said gently "We know you’ve had bad experiences with corporations before. But this place is different. I've been here four years now. If there was something dark or shady behind the curtain, trust me - communications would be the first to know."

"You saying that as a PR professional or as a person?"

"As a person." Lana replied without missing a beat. "One who believes you could do a lot of good here. More than you realize."

John met her eyes. She didn't flinch or look away. He could feel sincerity in her. Unless she was the worlds best liar, he felt he knew she was telling the truth.

"You're really making this hard for me to refuse."

Lana smiled. "Is that a no?"

He shook his head, unable to resist the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "No. That's me admitting I can't say no to a pretty face."

"Flattery already? You’re going to fit in just fine."

Lex clapped his hands once, delighted. "Excellent! John Henry Irons, welcome to LuthorCorp."

He extended his hand again. This time, John shook it without hesitation. "Alright." John said, straightening his back. "Let's see what kind of future we can build."
Finally I'm off work - sorry for my late reply, it looks like work has been kicking a lot of our asses recently!

I've finally got time to catch up on everything and get my next post up. Looking forward to reading what everyone's got! If anyone wants to work on a collab please hit me up I think I'll actually have the brain capacity to write from now on
So, it's gone a little quiet in here since the big boys left and made their own thread, probably with blackjack and hookers. So, allow me to try and keep things alive in the OOC.

How's everyone going on their next posts? I know things are always a little slow this time of year, with the holidays coming up, but hopefully we don't hit the same "Holiday Chokepoint" that a lot of RP's tend to hit.


Yes, sorry for my part in this! I've been having a terrible time at work recently, but I'm thankfully off rom the 9th so will have more time to be consistently involved!

I've got my next Steel post prepped and pretty much ready to go. I've got a bit of a hold on the Four and Andrew for the moment, but I do intend on going back to them.
@Ezekiel The Goblin Queen is accepted!
Morning all,

Halfway considering jumping into this after I somehow missed the launch.

Any especially important bits of lore I should know, far as what players have done, before I start brewing up a character?


Fantastic, we'd be happy to receive your application! If there's any further clarification you need not on the IC 0th post please send me and Cyrania a PM and we can help with your app!

Steel - Part 1.02 - Shout



"-And news of a new hero appearing in Metropolis has sparked new discourse around vigilantism in the city. The anchor continued, the studio lights gleaming off her papers. "Eyewitnesses report that the armored individual dubbed 'Steel' by bystanders, prevented a violent bank robbery and rescued multiple civilians from a car accident shortly afterward. Authorities have declined to comment, but public sentiment appears overwhelmingly positive for the mysterious figure."

The report played over shaky phone footage of Steel lifting the overturned sedan above his head, the crowd scattering around him in awe. Then the screen cut to a wide shot of the bank: shattered doors, police lights strobing against glass, and a line of stunned robbers kneeling in zip-ties.

The footage froze as the segment ended. Her suave co-anchor shifted in his seat, one eyebrow raised and a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Well, I've gotta say," he began, leaning an elbow on the desk "Between Steel over here lifting cars and Thor throwing lightning around Midtown, Metropolis is starting to look like the world's most dangerous gym membership. Say, you think Thor spots for Steel? What do you think his bench is?"

She stifled a laugh. "Are you suggesting a team-up, Eric?"

"I'm just saying!" he replied, hands raised in mock innocence, "You put a guy with a magic hammer next to a guy with a giant metal one, and I start wondering if we're looking at the next great superhero team-up - or the world's loudest construction site."

She shook her head. "So you are predicting friendship?"

"Oh, absolutely not!" He said with theatrical certainty. "My money's on a good ol' fashioned rivalry. Two hammer guys? That’s asking for trouble. Next thing you know they're arguing over who’s got the better swing."

"Very professional analysis." she said dryly.

"Hey, it's what the people need! Hard facts."

Their laughter faded as the broadcast transitioned into the next segment, but the image of Steel with the car held overhead like it weighed nothing lingered on the screen behind them, framed in bold red letters:

WHO IS STEEL?

John clicked off the small TV mounted in the Irons family kitchen. "You guys actually watch this trash? Whole lotta noise over nothing."

"'Nothing' he says!" Clay Irons called from the dining table, laughing as he set out four plates. "Johnny, people are losing their minds over this guy. Did you see that car he lifted? Man's built like a tank."

John tried to keep his face neutral. "Yeah, yeah. The guy got lucky, if Thor had got there first you can bet not one bullet would have been fired."

"Lucky?!" Natasha piped up as she bounded into the room. John smiled as he did the obligatory 'secret handshake' he had practiced with his neice upon seeing her. Her braids bounced as she plopped into her usual chair. "Uncle John, he lifted a whole car. Like, it was nothing! Everyone at school's talking about him. Steel is so cool."

Her father gave a mischievous smile, placing down a set of cutlery in front of her. "Say, Natasha - who do you think would in a fight Thor, Steel or...hmmm" He thought for a second. As pervasive as superheroes were in culture, Clay made a concerted effort to avoid any news of them as much as possible. Not many appeared in 'Technology Monthly' anyway. "Who's that guy again, green guy? And the one the pentagon made the announcement on-"

He could barely get the last word out before his daughter interrupted. "Ahem, his name is not Green Guy! If you must know he doesn't have an official name yet, but I call him the Martian. Aaaand-" She began punching the air in front of her. "Her name is Warbird! And for your information she would definitely beat up those knuckleheads - she stopped an alien invasion all by herself!"

John laughed, shaking his head. Natasha spent way too much time browsing online forums and fangirling over superheroes, it was official. "Hey, hey, hey. Just who says they gotta fight? Who says they can't be friends?"

Natasha grinned. "Yeah, well, if I ever get to meet any of them, I'm getting a selfie, whether they're friends or not."

John took a seat in front of her, comically rolling his eyes. "Let's start with your geometry homework first. Selfies can wait until later."

Clay's wife, Leila, nudged her husband with a smirk. "You hear that, hun? Your brother doesn't think selfies are dignified. Who could've guessed?" She plated up dinner and took a seat next to Clay as the family began to dig in to their food.

"Oh, he's always been like that." Clay said through a laugh. "You should've seen him in college. Star batsman on the Metropolis State baseball team - stands there after hitting a home run, all apatehtic like it was just another day at the office. Y'know, John I really think you could've given Marcus Aurelius a lesson in stoicism!"

Natasha gasped, her eyes rapidly shifting from her father to her uncle. "Wait what? Uncle John played baseball?!"

John sighed into his hands. He was never one to take a trip down memory lane. "Clay..."

"He did!" Clay said proudly. Revelling in his beloved older brothers discomfort. "Guy was a machine. Coaches practically tried to adopt him. Could've gone pro if he wasn't such a geek!"

John shook his head, half-embarrassed, half-laughing. "It was a long time ago. I still had hair then!"

The table laughed. "Can you believe this guy? Future lined up as a batsman for the Metropolis Meteors and he quits to build robots!" Clay added. "Nerd."

Leila laughed. Natasha pointed and joined in "Nerd!"

John raised his fork at her. "Careful, kid. I still know my way around a bat." He swung an invisible baseball bat in her direction, adding sound effects when it would have hit her.

"Pfft, yeah right, you'd need to catch me first!" She called back.

He couldn't help smiling now. For all the weight in his life, all the responsibility and the guilt. This place, sitting in this kitchen with the people he loved most in the world made it all feel so light. Like just being within these four walls made the world stop collapsing, even if only for a few hours.

Clay leaned back in his chair, fixing John with a look he'd worn since they were kids. The kind that every loving brother wears on the regular - a mix of concern and brotherly prodding. "Hey, speaking of robotics...LuthorCorp's hiring in Applied Systems. Good pay, good team. You'd fit right in. With my recommendation they'd make you team leader like that." He snapped his fingers.

John's smile faded. "Clay, no. We've talked about this. I appreciate the offer, but no. I'm happy where I am now."

"It's a different division." Clay insisted. "Nothing to do with weapons. Not the stuff you walked away from. Just R&D. Civil tech. Infrastructure systems. Robots to rebuild, not to break down."

"Clay-" John warned.

But Clay pushed on. "Come on, man. Just go to an interview. Do it for me. I put in a good word already."

John frowned. "You did what?"

Clay shrugged innocently. "Hey, what's a younger brother for if not to look out for his big bro?"

John rubbed his temples. "I don't want to get pulled into that world again, Clay."

"It's not that." Clay said gently. "Look, I just want you to have something stable, Johnny. Something good. You deserve that. You're wasted anywhere that isn't a lab."

Natasha chimed in. "You'd be awesome there, Uncle John. And the labs are so cool. Dad took me there for my work experience last summer!"

Leila lifted her wine glass. "Three against one, John."

John exhaled, staring down at his plate. "I'm sorry guys, I just can't. Not again. Not after last time."

The three each shot each other a look that expressed disappointment but understanding at the same time. His brother clapped a hand around John's broad shoulders. "Ah well, it was worth a try. Anyway, think we're just in time to catch the Meteors beat the Knights, right?"

A few hours had passed since their dinner and both Leila and Natasha had retired to bed. Or at least, Leila had. Natasha was still up, sitting in her dark room with her computer monitor shining a silhouette of her against the wall.

John and Clay were sitting out in the back garden, basking in the hot night. John gazed up at the stars and the endless sea of black above them. When he was a young man he dreamed of interstellar travel, with every science fiction book or movie he consumed this love for the unknown only deepened. In recent memory though this was replaced with fear. A fear for what was out there, and who if anyone could protect them if it came knocking at Earth's door.

He was snapped out of his thoughts with the noise of the back door slamming shut - his brother taking a seat on the deck chair next to him and handing over an ice cold beer.

"Cheers." Clay said, lifting his bottle.

John clinked his against it. "Cheers."

For a moment, neither spoke. Crickets chirped. A warm breeze rustled the hedges. Somewhere down the block, a dog barked at nothing. Clay took a pull from his beer, gazing out at the yard. "Natasha's getting sharp, isn't she?"

John smiled faintly. "Sharp? Kid's already smarter than the both of us put together."

Clay chuckled. "Yeah, she's got that spark. The way she talks about science, engineering...hell, even superheroes. If she finds something she likes she's bound to research every little bit of knowledge about it." He nudged John's elbow. "Wonder where she got that from."

"I dunno." John said, hiding a smile behind his bottle. "Her dad's a pretty smart guy."

Clay barked a laugh. "Oh please. She got my charm. All the clever stuff? That's you."

"She adores you, Clay."

"And she idolizes you!" Clay countered. "Kid practically lights up like a Christmas tree when you walk in the door."

John exhaled, looking up at the stars once more. "She deserves a world better than this one."

"Maybe." Clay said. "But she's gonna help build it. You see how she talks about the future? How excited she gets? She’s not afraid of it like we are."

"I just want to make sure she’s got every shot possible. That she never has to choose between doing the right thing and surviving. Not like we did."

Clay nodded. "Exactly. And having you around more? In the labs? Mentor her from up close, show her what's possible?" He shrugged. "That'd mean the world to her. To all of us. The boss already told me she's got a lab assistant job waiting for her when she gets into college."

John didn't answer right away. He never let an expression pass over his face, refusing to take the bait.

Clay leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Look, I get why you walked away from the old job. I honestly do. But this isn't that. LuthorCorp isn't perfect, but the team? The division I'm talking about? It's clean. Real science. Real good. Call me crazy, but I think Luthor is one of the good ones."

"Clay..."

"No weapons. No politics. No shady contractors. Just tech that helps rebuild the city. Bridges, power systems, rescue-bots, stuff that makes life better."

John rubbed the back of his neck. "I dunno, it still feels dangerous."

"Everything worth doing is." Clay said gently. "Hell, look at Natasha. Girl's already outpacing half her class. She's gonna outrun us both someday soon. Might as well have something solid to leave behind for her, right?"

His brother knew exactly how to play on his heart strings. His walls were beginning to break down. Clay noticed. He always did.

"Just an interview, Johnny. That's all I’m asking. Go in, listen to what they have to say. If you hate it, walk away. I won't push again. Scout's honor." He held up a scout salute.

"You were never a scout."

"Damn right!" Clay said, grinning. "I was cool in highschool!"

John snorted, shaking his head. "Oh yeah? What happened?"

They both laughed. Another long silence passed between them. Finally, John sighed. "Fine. One interview. Just one. But you owe me one."

"Hey, I owe you about a hundred by now."

They clinked their bottles again, the simple sound echoing softly into the night.
I'm not leaving, but my pace may be slowed for the next few days. LOTS of IRL drama going on that's really sucking up my creativity.


Yep, I know this feeling. Apologies for my lack of activity this weekend, guys - it's really been just one thing after another in my life recently. I honestly feel like I'm turning into Mr. Bean or Fawlty Towers, I was walking across a bridge the other day and my favourite cap blew off my head and into the river, and the next day I was driving to get my haircut and my exhaust randomly fell off my car if it wasn't so ridiculous I think I'd be more upset!

Regardless, to whoever sent me the candy cane thank you so much! It's really cheered me up! Thank you to everyone sticking around for the roleplay, as well as those who've contributed in the past.
Hey, everyone. I'm going to pull myself out from this roleplay. I had stuff planned out for SG, but keeping pace with the sheer amount of activity in this roleplay isn't going to work out for me. Best of luck to everyone else, though!


I'm sorry to hear that! Thank you for your involvement. Have a good holiday season, if you ever want to come back you're always welcome!
Perhaps another suggestion to engage with more interactivity: allow players to write villain character proposals and not just heroic/anti-her ones (with opposing player consent or not). This will allow a more free-flowing cause and effect interactive diet. Say I wanted to play Enchantress off Kindred's Thor or someone to play a Black Mask opposite my Batman. I think it could be a net benefit and create more situations for events.


<Snipped quote by mickilennial>

I agree with this. It'd be fun to see villain characters played by players instead of only being NPCs that we fight against. Gives potential for more storylines and expanding the universe.


<Snipped quote by King Kindred>

That is certainly could.

Half Pint and I will certainly discuss this.


Yep! Happy to make this change to the rules. Personally though, I think any villain should only be applied for with the hero players consent and a line of communication to each other at least just to ensure the tone remains consistent. I don't see much difference between playing someone's villain and playing their sidekick.
@Half Pint I'm sorry, but the "CLANG CLANG CLANG" in your post, while brilliant and exactly the kind of thing i want to read in a Steel story... I'm afraid that the Internet has ruined me, because all i can think of is this:



haha, honestly this is what went through my head, I couldn't think of a better onomatopeia for a hammer hitting metal though!



I think I’m gonna withdraw Dr.13. I made him with some intention of doing crossovers with some specific characters who aren’t in the game anymore. Not leaving the game though! Got a backup I wouldn’t mind running, I’ll get working on that one soon!


No problem! Glad you're staying

Hey, guys! I might’ve talked with Pint and Cyrania about this already, but I’m going to announce it here, too. Unfortunately, I’m leaving this game starting this week. As much as I really wanted to continue writing Wolverine, I can’t deny that it’s been difficult for me to keep up with most games lately. I wish I could’ve gotten past one issue, but everytime I planned on writing the next one, life just seemed to get in the way of me working on the next Wolverine post. Hopefully, once things get sorted out, I can join the game again whenever it is.

Thanks!


Thanks for announcing this. We've loved having you and hopefully things get a bit more stable for you in the future and we can write together somewhere down the line!
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