BangoSkank

Marvel Comics: Dawn of X

Another pot of coffee. Another long night. Another pain in the ass case. Probably another pain in the ass case that gets taken from them just when they really start to crack into it. Maybe straight up feds deciding this is their territory. If they figure they can get some good PR off it. Maybe a more ambiguous "this is not your jurisdiction; this is above your paygrade" if it's a really good case. Probably just Krakoa.

"Right now you're thinking Krakoa is gonna take this case off our hands." the junior deputy quipped while digging through a brown paper bag. He pulled out two big breakfast burritos. It was dinner time. Nothing like a breakfast burrito for dinner.

"You're not wrong." the senior deputy replied, unwrapping his burrito and folding it over to pick up any errant burrito bits.
"Wouldn't be the first time. You know how they are any time one of theirs is involved."

"Heard it was a kid too."

"You're a kid. That pyro was older than you."

"Yeah, but...well yeah. You're right. Early 20s. You seen the gas station tape?"

"Might as well put it on. That's the question right now isn't it. Who is that. Was he the one that killed the pyro mutant."

The younger deputy navigated around the computer's desktop to find the footage.

"Not much. Not super clear and we haven't been able to get an I.D. off it, but here we go."

Simple footage plays across their screen. Bog standard gas station market. Beige walls. Lighter shade of beige tile flooring. Needs a strip and some waxing but otherwise clean enough. Aisles all covered in colorful packaging for one or another variation of calorie bomb junk food. Probably will all turn out to be highly carcinogenic. Stocker is in the lower right filling up the potato chip rack. Some guy makes a beeline down an aisle, politely pressing closer to the one side so a mother and her child can peruse the candy bars. Guy heads straight for the restroom.

Subject of interest is wandering around a little more. He's got a note in his hand. Clearly working from that to gather up some groceries. It's nothing particularly interesting or unfamiliar. Salt, Lime Juice, Tajin, and Pabst Blue Ribbon.

"Fucking Pabst," the senior deputy mutters under his breath.

"Kids getting Micheladas. Who in their right mind uses PBRs for a Michelada?"

"That'd be a pretty shit Michelada."

"That'd be a pretty shit Michelada. Gotta go for Modelo."

"At least something Mexican."

"Some chamoy."

Subject gathers his ingredients up and heads to the register. This is their best clear look at him. Scrawny, straggly little fucker. Looks to be in the 160-180 pound range. Long hair, uncut, dirty. Chino shorts. Muscle shirt but he has no muscles. Ugly shit quality tattoos. It's not a good quality video but even if it were those tats would probably be too muddy to properly identify what any of them were supposed to be.

"Jail."

"Or juvie. Or dipshit friend."

"Maybe he practices on himself."

Subject pays with cash. Empties out his wallet and doesn't get much change back.

"Probably other fella gave him the money. Kid probably pocketed the cash so he could take Suzy Q to the sock hop or some shit."

"Sock hop huh. What's that from? The 50s? Jesus Christ. What are you Captain America?"

"I was just joking. And fuck you, I'm still a young buck."

Subject grabs the bag and walks out of the store. Definite limp. Footage cuts to outside the store and shows him for just a few seconds more as he drops off the curb, slightly tripping with the leg he was limping on, and moves around the back of a Toyota Corolla. Can't tell from the video if there is a passenger or not.

"Can't have been him. Too small. Too slow. Too out of it. That shit that happened at that compound, kid doesn't have it in him."

The deputies agreed on that. Maybe it was foolish. Maybe they were judging a book by it's cover, but nothing in the Subject's mannerisms or conduct would lead them to think he could wipe out a compound of dangerous extremists and a pyro type mutant to boot.

"That mutant at the compound, he wasn't exactly the Human Torch."

"True, true. But I still don't like that kid for it. More likely we'll find out he's in the car."

When it was all said and done, and Officers and Firefighters had responded to reports of the blaze, that Toyota Corolla was little more than a red hot smoldering frame. Mutants and demons and superhumans and all that shit. They had made a lot of things harder. How had the fire burned that hot and that long. How long had it been burning. Where did it start. Powers changed a lot of that. Couldn't look for traces of accelerants necessarily. Might have been started by the Pyro mutant. Wouldn't have left any trace at all if it had been.

The senior deputy muttered about as much.

"Shit," the junior deputy replied, "Might have been a portal from hell opened up and barbecued that Corolla with Holy Hell Fire."

They needed the video from the compound.

"We need the video from the compound."

In a dimly lit room in a well obscured location a shot out old detective watches the deputies discuss the situation through their screen's webcam on one screen and watches their actual screen through another. Bumpkin ass deputies are just throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks. It's a good indicator. They wouldn't find a damn thing. Mutant was dead. Other extremists all dead too. So far nothing tying anyone in particular to what happened. Good indicator.

Bergeron will be up most of the night using their assets to check up on exactly what the locals are looking in to. Reading the reports from the firefighters, sheriffs, cops, paramedics, coroners, all their supervisors. It was going to be a long night but it was looking like it would all lead to the exact outcome they were hoping for. A clean kill. Clean enough anyway. An effective operator.

Bergeron cracked his neck, then twisted his fingers this way and that cracking every knuckle every way he could. Didn't make any sense but it relaxed him. Turned his head to another screen to watch it again. Footage from the outpost. Didn't exist anywhere else now. JANUS had seen to that. By the end of the night he would be sending word on through and they would scrub it from history entirely. These were important first steps. He wasn't quite sure towards what, but they were important first steps.

On the screen a skinny fuck in a muscle shirt slowly morphed into their latest recruit. It was a weird list they were working from. Oddly specific and oddly low tier. Fucker was impossible to kill and make it stick but he'd never really been able to do all that much. This was a neat party trick. The long scraggly hair fell out, the body grew larger, couldn't tell from the angle of the video but his facial features were in flux. The Junkie Kid disguise fell away entirely as their recruit stepped into another disguise. It was complete when those faint blurry tattoos moved about into new positions and formed more recognizable patterns and figures.

As he approached the compound Bushwacker looked like one of them. Big, repulsive tattoos, and a case of PBRs.

Bergeron settled in to observe once more. To see what their recruit did right and what their recruit did wrong. Long night ahead.

Marvel Comics: Dawn of X

JANUS

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

P R O J E C T J A N U S

---

^{_{O R G A N I Z A T I O N ♦ C O N G L O M E R A T E}}

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

---

^{"It is a curious emotion, this certain homesickness I have in mind. With Americans, it is a national trait, as native to us as the roller-coaster or the jukebox. It is no simple longing for the home town or country of our birth. The emotion is Janus-faced: we are torn between a nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most for the places we have never known."}

There are infinite variations of infinite timelines. Infinite infinites effectively. Peering into that shroud is often maddening. Some would say inevitably maddening. Too much of that has led the world into the mad state it now finds itself. With the dissolution and diaspora of a myriad of government agencies worldwide a chase began to find and acquire the assets and operatives of each. A rare opportunity. A rare danger.

Such rarities draw attention, and this specific rarity drew a particularly rare attention.

The first indicators of JANUS' existence would come in the form of the sudden disappearances of various assets. Those tracking the remnants of A.I.M. and S.H.I.E.L.D. and the WEAPON program would find people and materials of interest suddenly going dark. This dissolution proceeded very rapidly. Fear of reprisals, fear of assassinations, desire for protection, and sometimes simple greed led many assets to seek new protectors. New patrons.

The name JANUS would first surface when a Orchis team responded to an alarm in a known A.I.M. safehouse to find a lone researcher, desperate for rescue. An expert in robotics, of particular interest to Orchis, he was beside himself. His team, his research, his materials. JANUS, he told them, had promised him safety, a lab, funding, personnel, everything he could dream of to develop his project. Modular Automated Weapons Systems, a fully independent perimeter defense system. It would revolutionize one full half of warfare. All gone.

They had helped him load it all up. Double checked his inventory with him. Ran over his power requirements and desired personnel to immediately get back into operation. Then they had left with his life's work. Not just the end result but the notes and the tools, everything that might have allowed him to reproduce the work.
His work. It would take another lifetime for him to catch up to himself. He had been left alone with nothing left to barter with. Orchis of course handled him how any such organization would handle an asset that had lost all value.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ):

---

JANUS is an organization with a strange founding and, initially, unclear motives.

The primary plot will be them working in the background, in the way background, attempting to scoop up or neutralize the remnants of the various government organizations operating in several disciplines. Robotics, Genetic Manipulation and Indexing, Weapons Programs as well as WEAPON Program, and anything involving extraterrestrial threats.

Their primary goal is to accomplish their other goals without Orchis, Krakoa, or any other world government becoming aware of their existence or identity. Their secondary goal is to acquire and safeguard as much material and manpower that Orchis, Krakoa, or any other world government might otherwise be interested in as possible. Their tertiary goal, as a direct result of their secondary goal and whenever resources allow them to work toward it, is to restrain Orchis from developing toward their end goal.

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

---

Disorder brings opportunity. Whenever sufficient chaos is created the world will tend back toward order, the only question is who will be behind that order and what suffering will they inflict upon the world to obtain it.

Humanity is flawed in its emotion. Illogical. Reactive. We see the world through a prism assuming ourselves to be special, anointed. We are riddled with biases, most of them self-serving. Time and time again this leads us to making disastrous choices damning millions in one manner or another. For all their hate for one another mutants and humanity are neigh indistinguishable, recent events notwithstanding.

Artificial Intelligences are no better. Emotionless. Logical to a fault. Sanitary. Bland. We find flaw in all and work toward a zero. Everywhere equations totaling zero. A bland mundane expanse of infinite null.

JANUS comes from far afield to find an equilibrium.

Perchance! A Persistently Preposterous Perfidy of Petulant Pugilism : Moldovan Masked and Mustachioed Muscle Man from Mount Magora MEETS MOLE-MAN!!!!!

Held in a Particularly Preposterous Position, Perpendicular to the ground, Danger Danger Fontaine considered a Proportionally Preposterous Proposition. What would happen if he...

"Muhhhh gerrrrrrttt" announced out Mole Man Announcer.

"My God," translated Mole Man Translator.

"FERKIS AT?" shouted Mole Man Announcer.

"Fuck is that?" translated Mole Man Translator.

Atreus and Gallium briefly Diverted from their in-Depth Discussion of Denmark to explain.

"That's the Two Graves you fucking Moles."

It was unnecessarily rude. They were indeed Moles, but Aloysius and Gatriullus didn't have to say it like that. Just because they were Mole People didn't mean they didn't have feelings. If you cut them they would bleed just like you or I. I mean you would have to cut pretty hard because they had all that thick ass hair and their skin was also very thick. And there was a thick layer of fat underneath that thick layer of skin to keep them insulated. It is very cold Underground U Understand and because they live Underground they have to retain as much heat as possible. But if you were To cut Through Their Thick hair and Thick skin and Thick layer of subcutaneous fat They would eventually bleed. And probably cuss you out for cutting Them just To Test This hypoThesis. You fucking dick you.

"Too Graves!" called out Mole Man Announcer.

"Two Graves," translated Mole Man Translator.

They were correct. Mole Man Translator less so, as Two instead of Too was a grammatical error rather than a translation error, but his heart was in the right place.

Danger, Danger Fontaine, held in a very awkward position and having his theoretical life blood drunk out of him like some sort of very manly and probably quite high in sodium elixir, had realized there was only one logical way out of this.

He had kicked his legs hard in the air, like a small child throwing an extremely masculine tantrum, and as a result he had driven both of their heads hard into the mat.

A rarely seen maneuver popularly known as "Two Graves" and it was aptly named as it left both contestants on the floor severely fucked up.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A new song blasts through the loud speakers. It sounds like Glass Breaking. Glass Shattering even. Get it? Do you get what I've done? Do you understand the reference? It's Stone Cold Steve Austin. That was the sound that played when he made his entrance. Glass Shattering. It was also the name of the song. I am very clever.

The crowd turns to see Stone Cold Steve Austin make his way to the ring. What a fucking shock this will be. Stone Cold Steve Austin is retired. And probably still under contract with the WWE. And like 60. And also a real life person instead of a goofy ass character in an RP on an Internet Forum designated for making dumb ass RPs. They're in for a Rude Awakening.

The music stops and the lights go out.

WTF is this. That's weird. It's not part of---

I LIE. I CHEAT. I STEAL.

Holy shit. The arena goes wild.

The Human Announcers go wild. Absolutely losing their shit. It's fucking Eddy Guerrerro! How is that possible? Hasn't he been dead for more than a decade? WTF!

The Mole Man Announcers go wild. It's fucking loud. It's suddenly dark. The crowd is screaming. This is bullshit. They just want to go back down into their nice Mole Man burrows and sleep. If Galileo and Andretoni could just keep their petty lovers' squabbles to themselves they could be off doing Mole People shit. Living Their Best Mole Lives. FUCK!

"It can't be!" Mole Man Announcer announces, momentarily forgetting he's not supposed to be able to speak English clearly.

"It can't be!" Mole Man Translator translates, hoping folks will overlook Mole Man Announcers' obvious fuck up.

"It's Tequila Sunrise!" Adanberto shouts, absolutely spazzing the fuck out that his favorite shameless mish mash of Steve Austin and Eddy Guerrerro is now running down the ramp toward the ring.

Mole Man Announcer, Mole Man Translator, and Gustavito all appear disappointed that it is just whoever the fuck Tequila Sunrise is rather than the much better known, widely beloved, and either retired or dead wrestlers they were hoping for. Adalberto however is still Massively Marking out. He has now somehow removed his boxers without removing his pants and thrown them into the ring.

Meanwhile Tequila Sunrise, a bald Hispanic man with a goatee, a poncho, jean shorts, and Cowboy boots, runs to Danger, Danger Fontaine's grocery cart of weapons and, with the lobster's express written consent, grabs a chair then rolls into the ring.

He does that one spot. The one where he looks around the ring from the still very fucked up Mole Man, MOLE MAN, to the still very fucked up Human Man, Danger, Danger Fontaine, and then back, and then back again, and then to the referee, and then to the crowd, and then to Camera A, and then he starts smacking the chair on the mat like he's about to do something cool, fucking finally and then...

The lights go out again. Fucking rolling blackouts. They're back on. They're back out. They flicker faster than Michael J. Fox and then the National Anthem plays, then it transitions into a circus theme.

Oh fuck, you guys. You guys! Fuck! You know what that means. Awwwwww Shiiiiiiiit!

General Shenanigans makes his way to the top of the ramp. Camouflage pants very camouflage-y. Big Red Shoes not at all camouflage-y. Shit's about to get even stupider. What the fuck.

Wh40k: One Step Beyond - A Rogue Trader Adventure (Closed)

The Ratling had arrived late.

Making your way through corridors scattered with the bloody and battered remains of several of your shipmates was tough work when you were his size. Sometimes folks who seemed very much dead were actually still very much alive and desperate to escape the piles of bodies they were trapped in. Sometimes they were just buried, those could be helped. Sometimes they were dead and just didn't know it yet. Bleeding out too rapidly and too far from help. Burned up beyond any hope of return but still stubbornly clinging onto last vestiges of life. This one poor bastard had been gutted.

Roald had tripped over a loop of the unlucky son of a bitches' intestines. Now that's a bad day.

He considered informing them of what had kept him, but decided against it. They were contemplating coming to the aid of that other ship. Hard to say whether it was smart or not. On one hand there was all that happy shiny bullshit about not just leaving a ship full of Imperials to be torn to pieces and consumed or worse. Probably worse. On the other hand they might just end up eaten or fucked or fucked and eaten, who knew what order things might happen in. Maybe he would get turned into a little tiny halfdemon or something. None of those possibilities particularly interested Roald.

Contemplating the position Roald stroked his face where his full manly beard would be were he not a Ratling. As a Ratling there was little there other than full rosy cheeks and, oh what was this, a bit of congealed blood with hairs sticking out of it. Gross.

Flicking those flesh bits of indeterminate origin on the floor Roald added his two cents to the conversation.

"If'n we're going on in dere I'm gonna need a better weapon. Pistol and Long-Las ain't exactly suited to close quarters."

Regarding Halflings and their Status in Star Wars Canon

Do they be canon?

Is there like a volcano planet a wee Halfling lad and his traveling coterie of companions might cast a ring?

Would they need a booster seat to pilot an X-Wing?

If one were to wear a hoodie would it look more like an Ewok or more like a Jawa? Incorrect. The correct answer is it would look like Flesh Tone Yoda.

What shows/movies are you watching?

I haven't seen any of She Hulk. It looks very meh. To me all the shows have looked very meh and been very meh. This twerking stuff is new to me but it makes sense in light of the sheer mehness.

Giving these folks as much credit as possible I assume they don't like the twerking as an extension and prime example of how lazily they are treating the character. If it's actually purely "she shouldn't be twerking" or "Megan is trash" I have to imagine they work in a field entirely devoid of female coworkers. I'd understand more if it were during the actual show and an extended scene without character development. Although even then with the crackerjack CGI it wouldn't cost them much.

Loki was probably my favorite of them, of the ones Ive seen. Female Loki was cool and the whole Loki falls in love with himself IMO made a lot of sense. Falcon/Winter was a political vehicle and heavy handed at that, IMO. I didn't see the Ms Marvel one or the Hawkeye one. I'm pretty sure there's another I did see but I can't think of what other tv shows there have been.

I think a lot of the problem, from both sides, comes from creators and corporations making a show or movie not out of love or creative vision but out of a desire for $$$ and out of a need to create something in a particular IP because they own that IP and therefore just must do something with it. So they hire someone, ideally someone they can can use in marketing, to produce something, and that something is guided by what is marketable rather than any particular vision or long term plan.

The general frustration with stuff like that leading to folks over reacting. Both creators, in the form of excessive direct to the audience rants like She Hulk's anger speech, and audiences in the form of shitting a brick over a what 10 second clip of She Hulk twerking with a professional twerker.

What shows/movies are you watching?

Nope was good.

Not amazing. Not revelatory. Not transformative. Not life changing.

But it was good. Keke Palmer is great in it. That guy who is in everything Peele does was ok. Keith David was great. The monkey kid and monkey storyline was pretty good.

Overall I'd say see it but don't drop all your plans to see it. Good to see on a bored night in. 7 or 8/10 if a 10/10 is incredibly rare and a 9/10 is a movie you'll tell your friends they have to see it.

Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread Number Two

Better Deal, Amazon

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