Hound55

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Dedonus said
Fixed that for you. Edit: Post up (hope it didn't offend anyone with the Latin word for six). I'll see what I can do tomorrow, but no promises! Time for some -> Edit2: I was looking through the word documents that contain copies of my posts and I noticed that Raptor has pages worth of posts...Arachne and Iron Knight both have around 30 (something like 29 and 31 respectively).

Getting a new laptop next week, so I'll be starting a fresh document myself.

When I moved on from my last job several hundred pages went down the tube. And that was just the stuff I'd done at work.

End of another era...

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Approved. The Bull moose has been approved.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Approved. Roosevelt has been approved.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Archangel (and presumably Iron Knight) are also trying to close the portal as well.

Two different plans being put together at once.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Would that our politicians have the same level of self-restraint.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

The media van’s wheels span before it lurched to life, and his ears seemed to burst as obnoxiously loud music filled the van, making it vibrate with bass.

# Turn down for what! #

Isaac winced and looked across the van, he was sharing the back with a mousey brunette who was hugging her knees and praying to herself quietly.

# Turn down for what! #

“Hey!” Isaac yelled into the cabin. “Turn it down!”

The driver looked at Isaac in the rear view mirror and used the lyrics to respond.

# Turn down for what! #

Isaac scowled and thought to himself just how bad he wanted something to hit.

The world obliged. A demon bounced off the roof of the van. The two men in the front swore. The brunette in the back screamed. The man in black smiled.

# Turn down for what #

A demon clawed at the driver’s window. Scratching the glass and providing enough pressure to crack the glass as it flew, attempting to keep pace with the van. The men in the front screamed at a higher pitch than the girl in the back had. The brunette looked at the open rear door, flapping and exposing her to the night.

# Turn down for what! #

Loud clambering could be heard on top of the van. The men watched as the winged beast that terrorized them disappeared suddenly from view. Then they saw the mass in front of them. The driver hit the brakes. Hard.

The Vigilante tumbled across the roof of the van, flew in front of the windshield and rolled several times along the road in front of them. He got to his feet with several grunts of frustration. He scowled back at the driver before looking ahead at the swarm of demonspawn.

# Fire up loud, Another round of shots #
# Fire up loud, Another round of shots #
# Fire up loud, Another round of shots #
# Fire up loud, Another round of shots #

They charged. Isaac turned back and shot a wink through his balaklava to the van, with a wide grin. He stepped forward and met the first with a heavy uppercut.

# Turn down for what! #

The sound of paper tearing, as Isaac’s fist carved a deep hole across the first demon’s face. A claw reached across his torso, talons broke off just from the pressure of trying to slash the black clad hero. Two others attempted the same thing with similar results. The sounds of demons screeching in agony echoed throughout the city streets.

# Turn down for what! #

Isaac unleashed flurries and combinations, slicing through the pack of devils. A scowl of focus and frustration crossing his face. There was no satisfaction in fighting these ghouls. They were like fighting paper tigers. No pushback. With no resistance, no punch really felt GOOD. Still, he made short work of those he came into contact with, but the sheer numbers...

# Turn down for what! #

So many damn demons. And somewhere else more would be pouring through from their dark dimension with every passing second.

“ENOUGH!” He shouted.

“I don’t have time for this!”

The surrounding demons paused, trying to figure out what to make of the outburst.

# Turn down for what! #

“Bring me your biggest ‘tank’!” the Vigilante bellowed, thick Terrarian accent masked by his voice modulator.

Demons parted. They didn’t need to, the one who moved forward was 9 feet tall and clearly visible even with others standing in front of it.

It walked towards his diminutive opponent in the clearing, looking down at him with a fanged leer. Its huge form eclipsing the moonlight.

The two squared off for interminable seconds.

# Turn down for what! #

The demon moved faster than Isaac could even see, suddenly it had him by both wrists. A dark sneer across its face. Under different circumstances Isaac never would have had a chance.

But these weren’t those circumstances.

Isaac matched its wicked grin with one smacking of sadistic glee.

He quickly pulled his arms away, and the demons arms broke off from the strength of its own grip. It reared its head back and shrieked so loud it shattered the surrounding windows.

Isaac reared back and gave an open hand chop to the beast’s neck.

The demon’s head rolled along the asphalt, and the silence was deafening before the Vigilante broke it, the atmosphere palpable.

“THIS was your biggest ‘tank’...” He addressed the mob.

Isaac booted the beheaded beast emphatically between the legs to another sharp-sounding tear. As demonspawn, the beast had no genitalia, but he felt his point was illustrated adequately.

“Not enough gun.” He spat with a sneer.

# Fire up loud, Another round of shots #
# Fire up loud, Another round of shots #
# Fire up loud, Another round of shots #
# Fire up loud, Another round of shots #

“Get out. Now. All of you.”

The final ultimatum was dropped. This was their last chance. Leave and keep what passes as a demon’s life. Back to hell, or cease to exist. The threat was unmistakable.

It was a fair exchange, but there was one thing he hadn’t considered.

Hell REALLY isn’t a very pleasant place. For anybody.

With a roar, they charged.

# Turn down for what! #

The pack descended upon him. Isaac threw quick combos, knowing he didn’t need much power behind any punch. Demons fell limp and motionless to either side, but the Vigilante was struggling to get himself space. The sheer numbers. The weight of evil. So constricting, and with every second there was more.

# Turn down for what #

Isaac fired a grapple line up and out and pulled himself out.

He swung in front of the van. A better position, for a second assault.

The demons and Isaac faced each other off for another second before the demons made their final move.

# Turn down for what! #

They scattered.

Apparently they’d just realized they had a third option. This mortal was only one, and cursed with the regular mortal problems of mobility and flightlessness.

Faced with a choice between destruction and deportation, they chose the third. Escape and hide.

Isaac looked down the road, to the point where the portal changed the colour of the sky. He looked down at himself, apart from some tears to his clothing and grazes from being thrown off of the van he was largely unharmed. He shot the men in the van a look.

# Turn down for what! #

“Can you guys get me to Ground Zero?”

The driver fired back. “Can you get US to Ground Zero?”

A smirk crossed Isaac’s face. "I think I’ll ride up top. You got any spare cables?"

The guy in the passenger seat spoke up. “This is a press van. What do you think?”

Isaac scowled at the sarcasm.

“Yes, we have cables.”

“Good. I’m gonna quickly rig it to strap myself up top. Don’t hit the brakes so damn hard next time.” He shot the driver a look, which shrank the man into his seat.

He opened the back doors and the girl in back handed him a reel of cable, smiling and brushing hair from her face.

Isaac took the cable with a smile, before firing to the men up front “And turn down the damn music!”

He didn’t need to ask a third time.

# Turn down for what! #

---

*Lyrics from “Turn Down For What”
Writer: Jonathan Smith and William Grigahcine
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Post finished. I'll put it up once I get home. Should be within the hour.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

One post in the pipe, hopefully going to get another one up today before I have to go back in to work.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Then

The box lowered.

A small crowd gathered around a wooden box, slowly lowering into the ground on a suitably gloomy, Lost Haven day. A woman dressed all in black, trying to hide her fame behind a veil. Her celebrity not wanted on this tragic day, a single handkerchief disappears behind the veil to dab tears periodically. A nondescript elderly gentleman walks to her side, gives a hug of consolation and a kiss on the cheek – more for his own benefit than hers – before returning to his own grief. She offered him a few words, but at this point there’s no reaching him in his devastated fugue. Another old friend rests a heavy arm on his shoulder in consolation.

The man in the box should be him.

And Again

Another small crowd, one more lowering coffin and another grey skied Lost Haven day – it’s as if the sky knows. The woman is there once again, a different cut black dress, but her famous face still hidden behind a veil. The same handkerchief suffers punishment from a tearful face and running mascara. But the elderly gentleman’s disposition is barely comparable. He can’t even move. Rain falls on him, he has no umbrella and he doesn’t care. The woman approaches him at the end of the service and embraces him, her celebrity might lead to unwanted attention – it doesn’t – but all parties are beyond caring. As she holds him, he’s unable to even raise his arms to return the embrace. He’s a broken man beyond tears on this day. The woman offers him words of condolence and kisses him on the cheek. The old friend gives a hug and words he won’t remember. He won’t even be sure he heard them at the time. A middle aged man and woman stand off to the side with a man in his early 20s. They don’t approach, and it will be a while before the middle aged couple will speak to him again. The younger man wants to approach the old man but he doesn’t.

Later, when the crowd has dissipated and the press long gone as the opportunities for celebrity snapshots dried up, the elderly man drops to his knees in the mud and howls. Tears finally breaking clear. Apparently he hadn’t cried them all out in the past few days.

The boy in the box is his grandson. And once again it should be him.

A Week Ago

Dennis Connolly and Alan Coughlin stand towards the back of a small crowd gathered around a well varnished coffin. The weather is irrelevant. The woman is dressed in a third cut black dress with veil, Dennis squints and recognizes her face. He’s not terribly surprised to discover who it is. Lady Liberty, known nationally – hell internationally – for her own services years ago, and Alan walks up to her and hugs her. Dennis knows the drill, he stay in his place with his head down and hands folded across his front. His grandfather offers a few quick words to her, before returning back to Dennis’ side.

The coffin lowers, delivering Colonel Ironsides back to the earth. Goodbye old friend.

Now

Dennis lies sprawled upon his bed in boxer shorts, half covered by a swirl of sheets and blankets , deep in sleep. Dreams of danger, giant villains of his family tossing a bug-sized Dennis around like he was nothing. He bounces across the concrete, before looking up at an enormous monstrous vision of his grandfather.

“So... that’s your best effort?”

“You’re a loser, Dennis! So why don’t you kill him?”

“What? No, grampa!”

“Soy un perdedor...”

“Wait... what?”

Dennis clung to sleep. The terrifying beings of the dream fell away and were replaced by visions of beautiful women, wanting to spend time with him. Dennis was charming the pants off them, at least that’s what they assured him... before the world started to shake.

“Huh?!?” Dennis woke with a start.

Alan Coughlin was hunched outside his open bedroom window, tapping on the glass.

“You didn’t answer your phone.”

Dennis rolled over and grabbed his phone, looking at it he did indeed have a missed call.

“What is it?”

“Go look out the door. I’ll wait til you get back.”

Dennis got to his feet and crossed the floor of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes with his palms. He threw the door open and took the vista in. The city was going to hell, handbasket not included. Demons were pouring out of a portal from one corner, more grotesque devils were getting sucked up towards some flying figure in another distant place. Wide strewn devastation could be seen across the whole city, from his precariously placed home. Burning building, flipped cars, people in the street were getting devoured. People were getting devoured! Literally feasted upon by nefarious beasts of mythology. The sky was a terrible shade. If this were the End of Days he’d never received a memo.

Dennis quickly went back to his bedroom without a word.

“Is that really happening?”

“I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t. Get dressed.”

Dennis quickly pulled clothes from his drawers and started suiting up, throwing questions at his grandfather all the while.

“What caused this? How is this even happening” he asked, pulling on his top.

“A portal opened downtown. No suspects at this point. I wouldn’t worry about that either. Portal was so big. The level of energy generation for such a mystical gateway—“

“Consumed whoever made it?” Dennis pulled on a boot.

The old man nodded. “Most likely.”

Dennis stood up and checked himself.

“Look alright?”

The older man was able to muster up a stray smile, something Dennis rarely saw himself. “You look fine.” Alan passed the Golden Rod through the window. “You’ll need this.”

Alan took it. “Even with this... I’m not ready, am I?”

Alan didn’t make eye contact.

“Grampa?”

The old man looked up and returned his grandson’s gaze. “I don’t know. I don’t know if anyone is,” he said shaking his head “I don’t even know if anyone CAN be.”

“But you looked out there. You saw what’s happening. At this point, does it even matter?”

Dennis felt bad just for asking now.

“You ask me if you’re ready... I don’t know. You better be.”

Dennis realized that was as good a pep talk as he was going to get, ran out of his bedroom. Took one final look at the bedlam that the city had become and the fourth Aquilifer took flight.

The man-child soared.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Kalistar said
I'm back, bishes.

Welcome back. Just finished last shift for a few days. Gonna work on posts now.