Beast Boy was startled awake by an unexpected snowfall. "Cold, cold, cold, cold!" He shivered and started to turn into an animal, but the sounds of screams made his ears twitch. "Huh?" He looked over the roof to see a woman being cornered by two men. "How clichè..." He rolled his eyes and stood on the edge of the roof.
"Annndd...now-" Timing it right, he jumped off the roof changing into a gorilla. He landed on both of them, easily knocking them out. The lady only seemed to scream louder seeing a large monkey fall out of the sky. Beast Boy climbed off the two and turned to her.
"Would you relax lady?" He rubbed his ears, transforming into his human form. She gasped and pointed shakily. "Who- who, wh-what are you!?" The lady clutched her purse. "Calm down, I'm a good guy. Beast Boy, that's my name." He nodded and turned to leave. "W-Wait!?" She stepped forward, but moved back when he turned around. "Yes?"
"Oh um, t-thank you." They departed, leaving the two men unconscious. The two hadn't done anything wrong, though they did try, so leaving them freezing seemed like enough punishment.
Being fully refreshed, and full, Beast Boy looked at his map. "Hmm...I'm here. I'll just keep going." He stopped mumbling to himself and stood, walking out of the coffee shop he had been in.
Another few hours he stayed in the town, until yet again he was off flying to another state.
Thank you Lillian!
Originally Posted by AkiBlue
So I was looking through my deck of cards and realized:
The king of hearts is the only king without a moustache.
Originally Posted by Elendra
Is this even the same person as the OP? This one doesn't seem pants on head retarded.
Originally Posted by Kagamine
S/he seems to be a fast learner. o3o
Originally Posted by AkiBlue
I could be insane for all I know....
But why would I be on RpG...?
Maybe it's like some form of a dose of medicine and to get away from the real world...?
Originally Posted by PsychoMantis
*hand on shoulder* It had to be done, we still love you no matter how much we hate you.
Originally Posted by Jorick (old post)
Lurk for a while. Read threads, see how people interact here. It's simple.
Learn how things work THEN see if you want to be a part of it. If not, gtfo and never look back. If so, then you'll know how the fuck to behave here.
Seriously. Just lurk a while to learn and you'll be fine, unless you're an incurable idiot. You seem like you might be fine once you understand how Spam works, but the noobtard (I'm guessing they're a friend of yours) probably won't be.
Originally Posted by Jivusa
Originally Posted by Ryuuku Minamoto
DON'T QUOTE SENTENCES THAT I DIDN'T SAY! >_>
Welcome to forums in a nutshell.
Stuffing words in your mouth, being random and trolling the fuck out of you since the foundation of te interwebz.
Gold unlocked one of the drawers in his desk and opened it. Within lay files, all neatly arranged by date. Gold scowled ever so slight and pulled one of the files out. To most people, it would seem that Gold pulled out a random file, but Gold knew what this file indicated; the first time he was killed on a case, and the first time the prime suspect was killed by his darker side. It was a normal night and Gold was walking about the streets of Gotham, following clues about the case he was on. As he passed an alleyway, he was shot in the leg. Either the guy knew where he was going, or Gold was extremely unlucky. It didn't really matter, Gold was about to die. Luckily, the man made the mistake of showing himself before giving off the final shot. That's when Cyrus Gold died and Solomon Grundy came to life. Looking back on it now, Gold smirked for a moment. What would that guy have been like when he saw Gold just melt away? Gold began to laugh at the thought off the guy's face. Guess there's an upside to everything after all.
With the file, Gold walked over to a notice board that had a picture of himself in the middle. Of course, it wasn't really him though, it was his darker side, his physical side, Solomon Grundy. Gold looked at the picture for while. Grundy's intentions seem to be good, wanting to kill those who kill, but he's going about it in all the wrong way. Gold took out the photo of the suspect out of the folder and pinned it to the board. He took a piece of red string and attached it between the pin on Grundy and the pin on the suspect he killed. Gold continued to do this with all of people that Grundy killed. When finished with all of the cases that Gold had taken, he began to put up other pictures that he had been given by the GPD. He put up pictures one after another and stood back after he had finished. Gold took a look at the notice board and all of the different colours of strings. Red indicated people who had killed him. Green indicated suspects that hadn't directly killed him, but ended up dead anyway. Blue indicated police officers that had tried to subdue him due to their job. Finally, white indicated the pure innocents. People who had died just because they were caught in Grundy's rampage. By far, the most dominant colour was blue. Grundy had the right intentions, but he keeps killing innocents due to his rage.
Gold walked over to his apartment's window, opening it and leaning out, breathing in the air. His senses were mostly dulled due to his physical nature, but he relished the smell of life when he could. Gold began to go into a deep thought. Grundy may be trying to do the right thing, but he's not going about it that well. On the other hand, Gold is also doing the right thing but it doesn't seem to helping that much. In today's world, the heroes seem to be helping more than the police. This time is a strange one to live in, being filled with humans with special abilities, whether used for good or evil. There's also himself. A man that cannot permanently die. If he could, Gold would become one of these meta-humans, but due to Grundy, that is impossible. He would cause more harm than good if he went out as Grundy due to mindless rampage. On the other hand, if Gold went out as himself, he would have the intelligence to do things correctly but would not have the physical abilities to be able to do any good. Gold walked back to his desk, leaving the window open to let in the smell of the outside air, mumbling to himself in his gravely voice; "If only there was some way to find a middle ground between us."
Question looked up at the apartment complex, after asking a few questions and speculating quite a bit, the grey skinned detective lived in his complex, second floor, second door, he's never met the person but already had his thought process figured out, window wide open, could climb up using the dumpster, no, want to make a good first impression, no break ins, just knock the door like a respectable citizen, as if they still existed.
So he climbed the stairs, two floors was a doddle, Vic lives on the top floor of his apartment and he must ascend and descendant two or three times each day, minimal chance of assassination attempts living at the top. He reached the door, like any other door, but he was sure the man he was looking for was behind this one. He straightened his tie, fixed his hat, made sure his face appeared non-existent and gave three short raps at the door.
Gold fell into a deep trance once again, following the adventures of his pasts. He went back to a time before the grey brute existed. It was a peaceful time back then. There was little crime, no wars that shook the world. The most worrying problem people had at that time was poverty and disease. Simple when compared to the problems that world has now. It was Gold's job to find cures for diseases and he was good at it. He made his own medicine and sold it to those who could afford it, giving it to those who couldn't. Gold smiled as he remembered his first life. A life when he wasn't grey and didn't have a monstrous side to him. Gold snapped awake from his trance. He had some scientific equipment in his cupboard. Maybe the way to cure this split bodies of his was through science. Gold got up and went through to his bedroom, opening the cupboard next to his bed. Digging through, he found a box. The box was plastic and covered in dust. Gold took the box out of the cupboard, wiped the dust off of it and smiled as he opened the box. It has been a while since he used any of this equipment, but this may send him in the right direction.
Going back to his desk, Gold set down some of the equipment onto his desk. Finishing placing what he needed, Gold looked at the table. Seemed quite little for what was in the box; A microscope, a scalpel and slides. True that he didn't need the other equipment just now, but it seemed rather underwhelming. Gold sat down at the desk and picked up the scalpel. He placed the side of the scalpel on the fingertip of his index finger, ready to swipe some skin. Suddenly, three short raps were heard at the door. Gold looked at the clock; it was somewhat late. Gold simply sighed and shrugged to himself, putting down the scalpel and heading towards the door. Gold flicked off the chain, that didn't really protect his door that well, and unlocked the door before opening it, speaking before looking; "What is it?"
Gold looked at the man outside the doorway; Blue fedora, long blue overcoat, no face. Seems to match a description of a man who beat up a few criminals. The officers plainly laughed when the criminals said he had no face. Turns out it was true. Gold raised his eyebrows slightly and spoke in his usual gravely tone; "Question, I presume. Heard about you from a couple of criminals. Thought you were just a story."
Gold shrugged slightly and moved to the side, moving his hand inwards towards the house as he spoke; "You can come in if you wish. From the stories, the least I could do is invite you in, instead of you breaking you way in."
Gold smiled at his last comment, his yellow teeth showing through the small gap in his lips.
"Can he do anything before I shove this staff up your-"
"Okay! Okay! What do you want."
"Just information. I want to you to know that what I do has nothing to do with Batman. I am a seperate entity. And I will act separately. So tell me. Someone was killed today. What do you know about Louie Beroz."
The thug was shivering when he said,"All I know is that he was Two-Faces personal assistant."
"Please, I don't know what you people are doing everyday. I need you to explain it to me. What has Two-Face done recently?"
"Were going to war with the Penguin gang."
"Is that all?Is that really all you're doing? Planning for war. What else?"
"Freeing Mr.Freeze from Arkham. We run guns."
"BORING! I think we're done here. Thank you for your services. You will continue to feed me information, or I tell everyone you're a mole. Deal?"
"Whats your name?"
"Business is concluded."said Robin.
THRACK! Robin smashed his foot into the thugs ribcage.
"If only there was a better place to interrogate people." Wished Robin as he untaped the man and drove him back to the apartment complex.
Last edited by nightrunner; 01-03-2013 at 10:45 AM.
“Detective obviously you haven't lived in Gotham very often or you'd know there are no untrue stories about oddly dressed men.” He says as he waltzes into the room. “But I am surprised about how underwhelmed you are.” He scanned the room, minimalistic in décor to an almost ridiculous level, desk, chair, computer and cupboard where the only things occupying this room. “Usually people have a few questions, 'what the hell?' and 'Dude, oh my God, why don't you have a face?' Are popular ones to ask. But, then again I didn't ask you why your skin was grey, but I'm piecing something together.”
Vic starts to go through all the items on the desk, systematically holding them up, viewing them from many angles, holding them up to his face, or lack thereof, and putting them back down in the exact same spot. “A tea drinker.” he finally states as he picks up the half-full teacup. “English morning, brand...” He takes a long sniff. “Tetley's” he puts the cup down in the exact spot it was on the desk. “Personally I don't touch the stuff, you have to let the leaves steep in the water, not dunk in the shredded remains, how are you supposed to reach enlightenment with slightly flavoured water? He sighs. I can't drink tea anyway, no mouth.” He says as he indicates to the place where his mouth should be.
Gold watched as the man walked into the room, looking about. He closed the door, flicking the chain back on, providing the door with next to no protection against people wanting to barge into the room. Gold watches as the Question walks towards his desk, still having the small amount of scientific equipment on it. He listens as the Question rambles on, but makes no comment while he does so. Only one question popped into his mind; What was he doing here? Gold certainly wasn't a criminal, so it couldn't be for the purpose of being beaten up. Maybe it was though. But what information could he give the Question? Unless. Maybe the question learned of his other side. Maybe he sussed that he was in fact Solomon Grundy. It's best not to dwell on the idea. Just by thinking about it, Gold could give on subtle signs. No doubt, those signs would be picked up by this man. Then the Question began to do things that piqued Gold's interest. Okay, he no longer has a single question on his mind, but rather a few.
Gold cleared his throat before speaking to the man after he had put down the cup and finished speaking, "First of all, I have been living in Gotham for quite a while. It just seemed that a man without a face seemed a bit far fetched. Fair enough that there are super powered people, but losing your face doesn't seem to have that much of an upside. Fair enough, it's still possible with everything else going on."
Gold looked at the question then down to the teacup, staying silent for a moment before speaking up once again; "For the matter of tea, try some of the brand I'm drinking. Better than the stuff they sell here, that's for sure. Of course, you'd need to somehow gain a mouth to actually drink it. Anyway, onto the matter of question, of which I have several. First and foremost; why are you here? Secondly, if you don't have a face, then how could you smell the tea? Thirdly, going again with the fact you don't have a face, how could you navigate your way around the room without bumping or knocking into anything? It's quite plain that you can actually see, also due to the fact you were looking at the equipment on my desk."
Gold smirked ever so slightly as he finished speaking. Something clicked in his brain; he wasn't breathing. Gold steadily began to breath at a steady, normal pace, hoping the man didn't notice. Kind of hard to explain why someone seemingly alive isn't breathing.
Charlton Maximum Security Facility for Women
Hub City, MI
Waller and Flag sat in the small visitation room, waiting for their next recruit. The door opened and the guards led a shackled woman into the room. There was a metallic collar wrapped around her neck, biting into her throat.
"Lisa Bolatinsky," Flag said as she sat down.
"Handy little ability of yours," Waller said, tapping the table in front of her. "You teleport into a bank vault and then leap away. But you make up for your power by being incredibly dumb. You're currently six months into a fifteen year stretch for all those bank robberies."
"But," said Flag, picking up the thread. "They've tacked another fifteen years on after all those escape attempts."
"Hard to teleport away when that pretty little collar negates your abilities," said Waller, reaching out for Bolatinsky's neck.
"Is there any point to this little speech," she said, recoiling away. "Or do you two just like listening to yourselves talk?"
"How would you like to get twenty-nine of those years knocked off your sentence?" Waller asked with an arched eyebrow.
San Quentin State Prison
San Quentin, CA
The prison van shook as the large black man stepped out. A dozen armed guards circled him, assault rifles and shotguns int heir hands. Flag and Waller were in the center of the circle, feet from the dangerous prisoner.
"Danny Brickwell," said Waller.
"Who's asking?" He said with a sneer.
"Your dear old Uncle Sam," Flag said.
"You want to get off death row, then it's time to give back to your country."
"Congratulations, Brick," Flag said with a nod. "You won all expense paid trip to the bayou."
Ostrander Memorial Mental Hospital
McNeil Island, WA
"She's been here for two years now," the doctor said. He led Waller and Flag down the corridors of the hospital's secure wing.
"When Gayle first came here, the voices were so bad she attempted suicide."
"She's gotten better?" Flag asked.
"Yes. I still don't believe she is mentally competent to be on her own. The temptation of what she can do is too much. She is clearly a danger to herself and others."
The doctor stopped at an observation room and looked through the window. A young woman laid on the floor of her padded cell, a straight jacket around her torso.
"Gayle," the doctor said as he opened up the door. "I have some men here to see you."
She sat up and looks at Waller and Flag with wide eyes. A sudden chill ran up both Flag and Waller's spines as she stared at them with wide eyes.
"Agent Waller," she said in a dreamy voice. "Lieutenant Colonel Flag. Hello."
Waller and Flag traded looks.
"Yes, I'll work for you," she said. "Although it doesn't seem like I have much of a choice, given what you had placed into my spinal column."
"Well done, Miss Marsh," Flag said. "Now if--"
"Yes, we should be going."
Belle Reve Federal Penitentiary
Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana
Back inside Belle Reve, Flag stood in front of his...teammates while Waller watched from the back of the room.
"Welcome to Task Force X," Flag started. "Also known as the Suicide Squad. You've all met me. I'm Lieutenant Colonel Rick Flag, lady in the back is Special Agent Waller. She's our supervisor and I'm your field leader. You've all been given the speech, so I'll sum it down to the basics. Do your job and survive these high risk missions, we hand you a pardon. You don't follow orders, try to escape or attack me or Waller, and you'll be terminated."
"And just so you know, Bolatinsky, the explosive devices have a range of three thousand miles," said Waller
"I don't think it'll come down to that, though," Flag said. "It's in your best interest to cooperate and that's what I expect. Now, you all have magic numbers. The number is the how many missions you have to do before you're set free. The number is based on your sentences, abilities, and past criminal history. Waller has all that information."
"What's my number?" Bolatinsky asked.
"Let's see...," Waller started to calculate. "Armed robbery, twenty-nine years and some change left...no prior criminal history and a teleporter....eight missions."
"What about me?" Brick asked.
"Triple homicide, death row, a rap sheet as long as a horse's dick, and superhuman strength and durability...thirty missions."
"How about me?" Deadshot asked in between cigarette puffs.
"F***, Floyd," Waller said with a laugh. "You're into triple digits."
"Alright," Flag said with a hand out. "We can talk about all that later. For now, I just wanted to say welcome. I've led troops before, but nothing this....unique before. Follow orders and behave and we'll get along just fine. I'm as nice as you'll let me be, and as mean as you make me."
"Well said, Colonel," said Waller, walking to the front of the room. "Now...let's get to work."
Obviously there are some things that I don't know. But I figure I can squeeze some information from Penguins gang. Im not on Batman's level, I cant keep up fighting an army. In fact I can barely keep up 1-on-3. Im good, but not that good. Bulletproof vest, R shurikens, and Bo staff aside. I am only Officer Richard Grayson, he thought to himself.
Dick layed in bed thinking to himself. Then he decided to look for help. He walked outside to pick up his newspaper and look through the classifieds. Nothin'
"Not like I expected any help for crime fighting in the newspaper." The next thing he did was wonder,"How can I solve anything when I cant fight!"
He grabbed a stack of his shurikens and threw them at the wall, each one cutting in about half an inch. He ran into his living room and body slammed the couch. He picked his lamp up, held it over his head, and ran and smashed it down the stairway. He jumped down the stairs dropping angrily but gracefully. He continued to fume until he turned his head to see his hiding spot for the giant gun, complete with ammo belt.
"Can a vigilante use a gun? All evidence points to No. But I'm a cop."
After sitting for a while Dick loaded the gun into his gym bag, with his costume. He plucked the R shurikens from the wall and prepared to take off. He jumped onto his bike which he'd forgotten to put back in the storage unit.
So Robin parks in my yard, sue me, he thought to himself.
He started the bike and took off, then pulled back into his driveway to put his costume on.
Me being seen on Robin's bike would be hard to talk my way out of, he thought.
He put on his costume, then ran back outside, jumped on his bike and took off toward The Iceberg Lounge. After about fifteen minutes of cruising he was in the crystal buildings parking lot. With the letters in neon blue across the top of the door. The place was shaped like a big top in a circus.
"Just a big circus. Give them a show and they'll watch," he muttered.
He pulled his hood down and covered the front of his body in his cape. He pushed the doors open swiftly and entered like the grim reaper.
"Wheres The Penguin," he barked. He pulled a R shuriken out and tossed it between the thighs of a guard straight across the room.
"Bring me too him Now!" He screamed
A single guard dare approach him to whimper," Tha-Tha-That away." While pointing at a glass curtain.
Robin approached the curtain stepping on the beads causing them to fall. He uncovered his front pointing at the penguins face.
"You. How are you preparing for war?" Asked Robin.
"War?"The Penguin Stood up. " With who?"
Shit, Grayson thought."Umm, I believe Two-Face's gang is preparing for war."
"Probably that incident the other day."
"Two-Face was going to suggest, us Two would partner up and rule the streets."
"Why would he go to war?"
"I shot the messenger."
"You personally shot him? Who'd you shoot?"
"Not me. I wouldn't do that myself. I have people for that."
"Who'd you shoot?"
"The messenger. The only person Two-Face trusted. Louis Beroz."
"Who shot him?" Robin jolted.
"You know what? You remind me of Batman. And you know him. But you seem... Different. More hirable. I'll tell you who, if you tell me who is The Batman?"
"Tempting, but I won't make a deal with scum like you."
"Then no deal Robbie." Said the Penguin as he grabbed his umbrella. "You hear that chattering, Rob? It's a wet, wet world. Lots of rain falls everywhere. Theres always someone trying to rain on your parade. So I carry an umbrella." He pointed his umbrella at Robin, and squeezed the handle.
An electric line shot at Robin, causing sparks to fly.
He jolted and dropped. Then he stood back up punching Penguin in the crooked nose. Robin pulled swung out his gun and fired a shot that exploded on impact. Shattering the Penguins umbrella.
"I prefer circuses to parades." Said Robin.
"All this armor and you did'nt expect a layer of rubber." Robin chided. "I dont need guns to fight you," he said now that they were both unarmed. He dropped the gun before grabbing Penguin and throwing him into the center of the lounge.
"Last chance. Who shot Louis?"
The Penguin laughed," You're good kid. It was David Moore. An average thug."
"See you later BirdBrain." Robin picked up the gun and walked out, mounted on his motorcycle, and took off back home.
Last edited by nightrunner; 01-03-2013 at 11:09 AM.
“Detective, branded tea will always be sub-par to what you grow yourself, and furthermore, I still have all of my senses because my face is not infact gone, I just overdid it with the spot remover as a teenager and this was the outcome, rather helpful though, helps keep identities secret.”
Vic began to navigate himself to the pin board and stared intently at it. “But the fact that you're asking questions, detective, that's shows me that you're the kind of person I would like to seek out. But I think there is a question that you forgot to ask. Why am I in your house?
Before waiting for an answer he was on the move again, moving to the window at the back of the room and looking down to the street below. “The answer is there is no reason, detective, none yet...” He pulled out a pen and notepad from his jacket pocket and started scribbling ferociously. He ripped the first page out and placed it on the desk, it read 'http://www.questiontheanswer.blogspot.com' "That's my blog, I have 10,000 readers en counting. And honestly try herbal tea detective, mind if I leave through the window, Gold? I think I can make the jump."