Avatar of Hillan

Status

Recent Statuses

6 mos ago
Current "When you have an unfair system the only thing you have to do in order for that system to be used against you, is to wait."
2 likes
11 mos ago
Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All of that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.
8 likes
11 mos ago
Oh sorry. I read the question wrong. 1's actually my social security number.
1 like
11 mos ago
1
4 likes
12 mos ago
The phallic stimulation toy of consequence rarely arrives pre-lubricated.
8 likes

Bio

I have 3 mottos here in life, really.




Most Recent Posts

Just wanna say that I'm up to date on everyone's posts and it's all really good stuff so far. I had some doubts about joining at first, since the last few games I've been in have hit a snag and my posting ability was a big reason, but the more team-focused gameplay and the nature of everyone being in one location have made this a breeze. Maybe laying off the multi paragraph-driven solo stuff and actually focusing on interaction was what I needed all along.


Shocked Superman Face.MP4
<Snipped quote by King Kindred>

Well he wasn't in the room this time so we all gucci


Would be a real shame if someone could see through walls... While having super hearing... That'd be super awkward.

Darkness fell over the desert, the four men had made camp deep between enemy lines. This whole operation had gone to shit - it was off the books, running ops for the snake Waller truly was a suicide mission. They were out of supplies, and they knew no backup would find them. Each had little more than what little rations remained in their packs, two armor plates each and six reserve mags worth of handgun ammunition. It would truly require a miracle for any of them to make it back home - not to mention how they still had a mission to complete. Major Stewart had gone through inventory, what little they had. Lieutenant Gardner had produced his empty shotgun and half a sniper rifle, missing the barrel. Captain Jordan had emergency flares, a parachute, some medical supplies and a flashlight. And Sergeant Rayner had a multitool, a Byalian dictionary and a empty and mangled hand-held lantern.

Stewart wasn't gonna lie to them. The situation was fucked. They all knew it. Fear was seeping in, they weren't gonna succeed in their mission. Thousasnds of Allied troops were going to die to the Byalian superweapon. And then all out war would start. Not to mention how the death toll would start with these four men. They dug into their rations, Stewart grabbed a crumbling map from his back pocket and laid it out, marking where they were and where the objective was. 14 clicks. Not impossible on foot. If it was a hike. This was deep into one of the most surveillance areas in the world.
Hal, Guy and John were all in unison, eyebows furled. Deep in thought. Guy was picking at his food, barely eating. The guy always ate. Rayner, their engineer who had the least combat experience. They had known Rayner since they were kids. He was grinning... No, he was smiling. Holding something in his hand.

"The hell is so funny, Rayner?" Captain Jordan snapped

"Heh. Just that I can't wait to see my wife and kid".

There it was, in his smile.

Hope.




Guy had heard the plan. He didn't like it. He barely believed it. But after this shitfest? He just wanted to fight. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism. If he wasn't angry, he'd be scared. Fear was the enemy. They all knew it.

"If we pull this off, we better get medals." He jeered.

"We better get fuckin' Knighted if we pull this off buddy." Hal filled in, John shook his head.

"You guys both know that if we pull this off, nobody is ever gonna know. Our only thanks is that tomorrow's correspondence from our war-reporter, Perry White will be about Great Ceasar's Ghost, and not about World War Three."

They all chuckled.
"Well, you know what guys? Nobody else will thank us. So I guess we better thank ourselves." Rayner commanded, the others, sitting in their makeshift camp perked up. Rayner ripped open the last pencil he had and started drawing something - he didn't have a great hand, but it was good enough. He made an insignia, a crest. Like two T's, connected by a ring on each end, a small circle in the middle. They had all seen this before. A really long time ago. Before they all drifted apart, and then suddenly were reunited in the military.

"I used to draw this when we were kids, remember?" Rayner asked rhetorically.

"What is it?" Guy questioned, Hal chuckled in disbelief.

"It's our crest, for our knightly order." Rayner answered. John laughed. "Order of what?"

Taking one of the waning emergency flares they had used to make a campfire with a tong, he placed it in the broken down lantern he had just taped back together.

"Knights of The Lantern" Rayner grinned. They all laughed. John had been their quarterback in highschool football, and he always held speeches before the big games. Rayner handed him the lantern.
"You wanna do the honors, Sir Captain?" Bowing and kneeling in jest. John took the lantern and smirked.

"Remember how the old saying went?" John asked, reffering to the mantra their football Coach, Mister Scott had taught them so long ago. They all nodded in agreement.
For a brief moment, these four soldiers, certain of their death, barely clining onto hope were once again the football team The Coastal City Lightkeepers.
All four of them kneeled cerimonously in a football huddle. The burning lantern in the middle of them.
They all spoke in unison.

"In brightest day.
In Blackest night
..."

<Snipped quote by Master Bruce>

Time to break out the L word.


Love?
Kyle and Conner are gonna become the Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster of DC.


You're the Michael Jordan of Basketball my friend.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
G R E E N L A N T E R N
G R E E N L A N T E R N
Location: San Francisco - California
Titans Together! #1.08: Soldier, Poet, Tinkerer, Spy
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Interaction(s): Troia - @Lord Wraith, Robin - @Master Bruce Kid Flash - @Sep, Arsenal - @Simple Unicycle
Previously: None

Kyle had spent most of the night awake, consuming enough caffeine to put concern on any medical professions face. He was painting. His canvas open in his cluttered, yet meticulously placed room. He knew exactly where everything was, from the action figures and airbrushes to the collectors edition of graphic novels. He had his stash of comics and manga for collecting in one corner, in a plexiglass case. Bulletproof, fireproof, thief-proof. And then in the other corner, a rustic bookshelf next to his bed covered in comics and manga books. Every book well read, from the comic books about the Justice Society of America, to modern classics chronicling Arthurian legends. Not to mention the well maintained, though worn - the backs bent - copies of all 42 volumes of Dragon Ball. The seven golden spheres sat on a different shelf in a green silk cloth, as part of his massive collection of memorabilia.

His brush was making it's way over the canvas, his latest artistic vision. As he painted, his mind could never help but wander. His hand held the paintbrush, yet around him, green, translucent hands were organizing the rest of the room. Assembling a set of Lego, one of the hands was typing on the laptop that was humming softly on his bed, working on a simulation for a construction project. His phone was being held and lazily creating generic responses to the latest flood of fanmail @TheEmeraldKnight had gotten on social media. While his hand was painting, Kyle couldn't help but sing to the music blasting through his headphones. Four hours ago it had been, at least. But since then, his mind had sneakily unplugged the pair of closed back headphones on his head, instead a long line was going from the stereo, through the room. It was the second time this night he had heard the song on his playlist and he was really feeling it now. He always did. Kroeger knew what he was doing.

"She's got me nervous, Talkin' a hundred miles an hour"

The line made entirely out of green light, into equally shining massive tower speakers behind Kyle. The track came on, and Kyle's eyes widened, his ears perked up and his foot stopped bouncing absentmindedly, instead bobbing up and down with clear intent, as if he was playing a kick drum. In a couple of seconds, he was. The drum materialized as his foot found the pedal, a drumstick in his right hand, a brush-holder materialized as his hands became occupied. His left hand held a microphone as he bobbed his head back and forth.

"She's more than worth it, she smells just like a flower" His raspy voice belting out, in high school, one of his friends had told him 'Kyle, you sing like Kurt Cobain if he wasn't depressed', and that had maybe been the kindest thing Kyle had ever heard. He smirked, rocking his head forth, his black hair spilling over his face.

"I'd fall to pieces if I went anywhere without he-eer!"

The brush came to life through a phantom limb, adding more color to the canvas. He stood up, his chair disappearing into nothingness under him. The drums disappeared and instead a guitar in his arms and a leather jacket around him appeared. He strummed to the chorus, and as he did he felt his focus growing stronger as the light of all of the constructs in the room got more intense, like a high powered light bulb. He had several prism-like objects in the room, which lead to the green light being emitted turning the entire into a disco in different colors.

"I love it when she says, 'What's wrong with right here on the counter'"

As he was riffing, a loud thud was heard through the wall to his side. All the lights went out at once as his concentration was broken. The brush falling freely to the ground - caught by Kyle's hand - to not spill any paint, or risk ruining the canvas he had been working so hard on. He was about to yell back at the princess next door - which was certainly a funny way to see it, living next to a princess. Not that she particularly enjoyed being called that. He turned his lights back on, realizing he had unplugged his headphones - now blasting music and singing at 140 decibel. All right, so maybe that's why he's not allowed to live in a HOA. He needed breakfast. He was moving to the kitchen, plugging his phone into a pair of wireless headphones - given to him by Palmer Tech

"#NotLexCorp at least." He sighed under his breath, a part of him waning from the attention he had been getting for the past few years. In a way, he had been as instrumental into the creation of this Titans team as Lilith had been. He didn't know exactly what kind of future it was their Oracle of San Francisco had seen - but he knew it wasn't good. They needed to be here. But Loren Jupiter had taken an interest in him long before that. Palmer, Luthor and Edge had been engaged in a bidding war for whoever could buy themselves the affections of the young superhero when Kyle had emerged, a junior in High School. He made national news when he aided the clean up of the flooding of the central bay area in SF. And the earthquake in Coastal City. He stopped a few bank robbers, and he made sure to take his time to talk to the press while doing so. His charisma and charm had won the heart of the public instantly. A way of doing the job very few heroes had done before - they were usually all cloak and dagger. It took Big Blue several years to hold a press conference where he talked to the public. Kyle did it on his second week.

Loren had cut through the advertiser-friendly discussions. He had talked past the brand deals. He didn't want a private superhero. He hadn't promised Kyle riches and fame. He had promised Kyle a chance to make a real difference, without hindering him from doing things his way. Something the ring-slinger couldn't say no to.

Lost in thought, Kyle barely registered the blur that caused chaos in the kitchen. Leaving a mess in his wake as Wallace tore through the pantry. Piles of frozen pancake boxes everywhere, the microwaves turned into a mess as the speedster somehow always forgot to use a lid. Kyle ushered a few simple thoughts on a miniature snow plow that plowed all of the mess on the counter into the appropriate recycling bins, as well as mops, rags and other cleaning supplies cleaning the microwaves as he himself walked through. He made himself a large Mexican sandwich and six protein bars and a massive glass of chocolate milk. He wasn't a speedster, but he still ate more than a regular mortal. He figured the alien machinery he had instead of a heart required nutrition.

As he was mid-bite, the alarm blared. Everyone rushed. He finished the sandwich, put the bars into a little container he strapped to his jeans and then he followed the alarm. Cinderblock was back. The boys had all gathered on the bridge, Troia, as well. He smiled when he saw her, decked out in her pristine gear. She was a true warrior, more knightly than he could be. A soldier of a foreign land, a here on a quest - yet now roped into a completely different one. If Kyle didn't know she was real, he'd assume she was some sort of video game character, caught in a side quest. Not something he had gotten to show her very much about, yet, but he was certain the Norse Warrioress would take to The Witcher with glee.

Arsenal - fitting name for a man with a backpack full of weapons. Their very own McGuyver. Piece of string and a closet full of cleaning supplies and he could rain hell on anyone. He was far smarter than Kyle, and Kyle made sure to pick his brain whenever he was designing something, in return, Arsenal utilized Kyle's powers to demonstrate his own creations. Endless supplies of material, albeit temporary, is all a mad tinkerer could ask for.

Next to him was the black haired, dark-clad hero. The mysterious dark prince of Gotham. Robin, Kyle assumed everyone else felt like every word out of that boys mouth was a lie - but he had this weird energy to him. Living this close to him made it impossible to be fooled, Kyle thought. Yet, in spite of knowing they had a spy in their midst, none of them felt uncomfortable by it. It was like despite clearly lying about a lot of things, Robin held no malice for doing so. He was trustworthy, even if Kyle didn't believe a word he said.

And then there was Wally. Kyle's best friend at the tower. They had instantly bonded over their collective nerd-interests, their love for science and their even greater love for comics and video games. Wally had never been open about it but Kyle could tell the kid was an artist at heart. A poet who just didn't know it yet. He just hadn't found a way to connect his heart to his words. Kyle smirked as he looked at the three young men - the three who had the most experience amongst them were jabbering about Wally not being ready. Kyle realized he too was dressed in Birkenstock, ripped jeans and a paint-stained Nirvana T-shirt. He chuckled.

"Race you to get dressed, Kid Flash." Kyle challenged, closing his eyes as emerald light erupted from his chest, coating him in green flames that slowly burned into his black - white - and emerald green attire. His soft green eyes with hazel undertones flashed into a bright green flame that also subsided, leaving a clear green glow in his iris. The container with snacks still secured to his costume.

"Cinderblock's tearing up the town? We know how he escaped the transport? I'll fly us there." Kyle promised those that couldn't fly themselves. Knowing full well they had a T-Jet, a small scale jet plane that could house them all. But hey, he was @TheEmeraldKnight, you had to think green. His powers left no Co2-debt to take care of. Plus, the news picking up them arriving without a plane would give the Titans some good optics for their followers to make memes dunking on Taylor Swift for taking her jet from her bedroom to her kitchen.
<Snipped quote by Hillan>

Better than what he said to Jason


"Jeez Master Jason. You're really gonna fit all of those crowbars against your ribs?"

<Snipped quote by Hillan>

Don't be a Dick.


- Alfred Pennyworth to Tim Drake, everyday of his life.

Before anyone says it, yes, I know that logo is generally associated with Tim Drake.

But A) Batman Forever was fine with co-opting it for Dick, so I am too.

And B) mine has a fancy red circle in it. Totally different.


About as different as Dick is from Tim Drake...


G R E E N L A N T E R N
G R E E N L A N T E R N

"Torchbearer, Emerald Knight, Shining Beacon Of Awesome."
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
_________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
_________________________________________________________
Kyle J. Rayner
_________________________________________________________
19 | Single
_________________________________________________________
Coast City Crusaders | American

N O T A B L E A B I L I T I E S & T O O L S
N O T A B L E A B I L I T I E S & T O O L S
_________________________________________________________
N O T A B L E S K I L L S & T A L E N T S
N O T A B L E S K I L L S & T A L E N T S
_________________________________________________________
T H E S T O R Y S O F A R...
T H E S T O R Y S O F A R...
________________________________________________________________________________________
A gifted child, the joy of his father, Andrew Rayner. Decent enough at sports, smart enough to know he never had to try that hard because his brain would carry him to the upper echelons of the world. That's what his mother always said, at least. Maria Rayner was a wonderful mother while Kyle was growing up, from a Mexican background, Maria became a single mother after Kyle's father died in military service, when Kyle was 11. Losing his father was hard, and it made him no longer take his life for granted. Starting to apply himself, Kyle was soon looking at more opportunities than he could have ever envisioned for himself.

That is, till a meteor shower hit Coast City, and Kyle, a brazen 16 year old, celebrating getting his drivers license wound up in the middle of it. A green, flaming orb collided with his car, and during the crash he came face to face, not with a man... But a glowing, flaming, green... Whale? The Whale spoke, prophecy, chosen one , destiny, blah blah. The ringing in Kyle's ears, and the smoke from his burning car was too much.

The being knew it's time was fading, but it needed a host. As a result, it found it's way into the wounded Kyle, reinvigorating his body, healing the shrapnel that had cut it's way through his heart, filling him with that same kind of flame that had fallen from the sky.

Since that day, Kyle's life would never be the same, for he is a man who is able to make dreams reality. Imagination given form, abstracts into shape. Shining across the world, or social media at least, is a force bright enough to vanquish evil's might, the awesome power of Green Lantern's Light.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
________________________________________________________________________________________
In Brightest Day
Hubris is the greatest companion of a successful Green Lantern. They are powered by their own self-belief. Their lack of fear and doubt. Kyle embodies this better than most, yet his hubris is also used to cover his fear and uncertainty. Kyle is a teenager like everyone else, but he has no clue how to behave around others of his ilk. For the last few years, he's been treated like a god by the suits who started to pay attention to him. His powers are awe inspiring, they're flashy and incredible. What all of the theatrics do not convey is the fact that Kyle has never been in a real fight.

Testing Mettle, Green Lantern's Might
The appearance of another Prism-bearing Knight would stir up Kyle's entire understanding of the universe. I envision Kyle's powers to operate like a mix between Earth-2 Alan Scott and Kyle's own stint as Ion. He's not part of the GL Corp, and he's not bound to be a space cop. Yet he's wielding one of the fundamental forces of the source, which he certainly cannot be alone in. Perhaps a mentor, adversary or instructor would provide both clarity and greater confusion.

© 2007-2025
BBCode Cheatsheet