Current
A Perpetual Motion Engine of Anxiety and Self-Loathing
Bio
So there I am, in Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon, at about 3 o'clock in the morning, looking for one thousand brown M&Ms to fill a brandy glass, or Ozzy wouldn't go on stage that night. So, Jeff Beck pops his head 'round the door, and mentions there's a little sweets shop on the edge of town. So - we go. And - it's closed. So there's me, and Keith Moon, and David Crosby, breaking into that little sweets shop, eh. Well, instead of a guard dog, they've got this bloody great big Bengal tiger. I managed to take out the tiger with a can of mace, but the shopowner and his son... that's a different story altogether. I had to beat them to death with their own shoes. Nasty business, really. But, sure enough, I got the M&Ms, and Ozzy went on stage and did a great show.
Chris then turned back to his projector device, which was displaying a map of the abandoned complex that Doctor Diplodoc and his allies called home. “Team One will include Icon, War-Pulse, Lyger, Thunderbolt, Radiance, and the White Witch. Remember that your goal is distract their group of metahumans. If you happen to beat them before Team Two captures the doctor himself, rendezvous with them.”
“Team Two will be lead by Vigilante and will include Raptor, Wasp, Bast, Arachne, and whoever this newcomer is. We have an old set of schematics for the building and an overview of our opponents on that electronic whiteboard. So, any questions before we begin?"
Isaac Looked around at the characters in his team and sighed deeply and audibly through his voice modulator. He pinched at his mask at the bridge of his nose, as he often did in moments of frustration and added his two cents… as he was often want to do.
“As thrilled as I am that you’re leaving me in charge of the kids table, I’m gonna have to raise an objection…”
“Whatsisname…” he shook his hand gesturing toward War-Pulse “…Effigy. You’ve got a guy who can replicate the powers and form of pretty much anyone he tangles with and as far as I can tell you’ve loaded up the team to deal with these types with our biggest guns. I don’t want Icon… or for that matter Zippy and Bippy here…” he gestured at the speedsters, “…getting anywhere near that guy.”
“So here’s what I suggest... We’ve got ourselves speedsters. Why don’t we use them? I weigh about 77 kil—“ he checked himself, remembering they use the imperial measurement in this country, “170 pounds. We get my team in position, this big fella over here jets me in to take down that one guy.” The Vigilante pointed at Thunderbolt. “Shouldn’t take me more than 5 or 10 minutes. You start on the other 3, he runs me back to Team Menagerie and then returns to the fray with your mob, and whaddaya know after this is all sorted out we’re not going to have a guy in lock-up who can turn into somebody who can benchpress a building or outrun a fighter jet.”
“Because at the moment, best case scenario, all I can see happening is 2 War-Pulses smacking the hell out of each other and doing untold collateral damage.”
Please let me know if I left anyone off. I did not put anyone of the S2 characters on it, but if you want me to do so, I can. Also, I only added characters with CS's in the Character Tab, because it is too hard to track those sheets down in a 3000+ OOC thread.
So there I am, in Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon, at about 3 o'clock in the morning, looking for one thousand brown M&Ms to fill a brandy glass, or Ozzy wouldn't go on stage that night. So, Jeff Beck pops his head 'round the door, and mentions there's a little sweets shop on the edge of town. So - we go. And - it's closed. So there's me, and Keith Moon, and David Crosby, breaking into that little sweets shop, eh. Well, instead of a guard dog, they've got this bloody great big Bengal tiger. I managed to take out the tiger with a can of mace, but the shopowner and his son... that's a different story altogether. I had to beat them to death with their own shoes. Nasty business, really. But, sure enough, I got the M&Ms, and Ozzy went on stage and did a great show.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">So there I am, in Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon, at about 3 o'clock in the morning, looking for one thousand brown M&Ms to fill a brandy glass, or Ozzy wouldn't go on stage that night. So, Jeff Beck pops his head 'round the door, and mentions there's a little sweets shop on the edge of town. So - we go. And - it's closed. So there's me, and Keith Moon, and David Crosby, breaking into that little sweets shop, eh. Well, instead of a guard dog, they've got this bloody great big Bengal tiger. I managed to take out the tiger with a can of mace, but the shopowner and his son... that's a different story altogether. I had to beat them to death with their own shoes. Nasty business, really. But, sure enough, I got the M&Ms, and Ozzy went on stage and did a great show.</div>
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