BatGod.
Is it bad my mind immediately went to Adam West there?
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Is it bad my mind immediately went to Adam West there?
The Bounce is pleased by the amount of Zod in this thread.
The next person that uses a text emoticon in the OOC thread is going on a timeout.
╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻
It was black on the outside right? Yellow on the inside :)
Correct. So Damian is basically wearing Tim's cape now? As I recall, his was black/yellow.
The gold trim and the cowl seem the only differences.
Okay, catching up on comics.
Damian's Robin costume in Robin, Son of Batman #9, specifically the cape, caught my eye. Did the colorist just not check the character sheet? Or when did Damian get an all-black cape?
Damian's Robin costume in Robin, Son of Batman #9, specifically the cape, caught my eye. Did the colorist just not check the character sheet? Or when did Damian get an all-black cape?
The dead Grund's name was Grux. He'd arrived at Ungara from an area known as Asteroid Blue Heaven. As for what he was doing on Ungara, or who he was meeting, those were matters of Ungaran domestic law. He'd arrived on Ungara from a way station near the Forbidden Sector. I was halfway there when dispatch called.
A S T E R O I D
B L U E H E A V E N
All units in the vicinity of Sector 2814.666, be advised we have a reports of a domestic disturbance on the station. Proceed with caution.
The small spacecraft exited out of the singularity, a blue glow radiating from the ion drives as power was diverted to the sublight engines, the kinetic force combining with the resulting inertial to propel the pristine vessel toward the massive rock which hung like a rogue planet against the backdrop of space. Inside the space craft, a feminine voice echoed and said, "We have entered Sector 2814.666. Adjusting vector for approach to space station Blue Heaven."
Blue Heaven was originally a private enterprise. Long ago, this sector had been a commercial corridor for the movement of goods between the Kymellian Technomancy and the Shi'ar Imperium. Today, with that corridor closed off by an intergalactic prohibition on travel in or near the vicinity of the planet Ysmault the economic situation had taken a sudden downturn. Now, it was home to drifters and smugglers. Fringers, they were called. Without local government law enforcement, it had become necessary for the Corps to provide for community police protection before the outpost became even worse than it already was.
As it stood, this was the fourth time in the boy's short career that he had visited Blue Heaven. He had attempted to bring peace, but had settled for brief periods of ceasefire instead. Pausing, as he prepared to disembark the ship, the young monk closed his eyes as he drew in a cleansing breath. "Om mani padme hum," he uttered. Part meditation. Part prayer.
Part much needed support for his own sanity.
There were creatures in this world - in this universe - who tested the patience of even the most virtuous monk. If experience had taught him anything, it was that he should expect to have his faith and his character tested by what he was about to discover. Peace. Compassion. Peace... the boy repeated to himself, drawing in a deep breath which he let out slowly as he stepped into the airlock. The boy brought his right hand up, adjusting the distinctive ring on his middle finger. A green aura enveloped his small form, as the exterior hatch was pulled away like a curtain to reveal the naked cosmos outside. Gently, the boy's foot drifted from off the deck as he floated freely into the vacuum awaiting him.
Space could be frightening the first time. There was no concept of up or down. No compass points with which to orient the mind. Some never overcame the vertigo. But Kai-ro? Kai-ro felt like this was true freedom. Putting his arms by his side, the child ducked and then pushed himself out through the void like a dolphin sliding through the sea. Gliding across the emptiness, the youth arced upward to arrive at an airlock that would give entry to the asteroid base. A pulse from his ring and the door parted for him, and Kai-ro stepped inside.
A century before, the asteroid had been cored out by a mining corporation. Left an empty shell, the remains of the mining station had been hastily converted into a port of call for people out on the fringe of this part of space. Pirates. Smugglers. Drug runners. The Green Lanterns knew that Blue Heaven, as it had come to be called, was nothing more than a waypoint from criminal elements drifting through the sector. But suspicion didn't amount to evidence, and so the Green Lanterns could do little more than keep an eye on the station. Still, it remained a lawless wonderland. A ghetto in space. Trash crunched under foot, along with something squishy that Kai-ro immediately tried not to think about as he made his way inside of the shoddy asteroid port.
B37T4-A, or Big Bertha, had originally been programmed as a lab assistant for a chemical company. Later advances in robotics and artificial intelligence design had led to Bertha being thrown out with the trash, but instead of being resigning herself to being reduced to scrap, the rusted automaton had wound up opening a bar out on Blue Heaven. There, she'd met up with a waste disposal unit that everyone called 'Marty' and the two had mixed like oil and water. Their passions for one another were, perhaps, impressive given the limitations of their designs, but that passion led to destructive behavior - usually by Bertha - which was of increasing concern to the residents of Blue Heaven.
That alone was concerning. It took a great deal for someone who lived on Blue Heaven to want to call the Lanterns.
As the young Green Lantern walked through the doors of the bar, an ion bolt buried itself into the wall about three feet to the left and two heads higher than he stood. The smell of residual gas coolant gave credence to the notion that such hadn't been the first shot fired, which would explain why someone would have been willing, if not eager, to call the Lanterns. In space, with the risk of the hull being compromised, no one won a gun fight.
Bertha was behind the bar, plugged into a voltage converted that had obviously made her onboard components drunk from the power surge. In one of her reedy, articulate limbs was a relic of the Badoon Civil War, a gas-powered ion bolt caster that was little more than a high-tech slug thrower. "You whore," the robotic bar tender managed, loudly slurring her words as her servos were unable to precisely calibrate for motion. The rifle waved wildly toward a squat, dirty-looking robot. "I... I kill you and... and that automated hussy!"
"Perhaps we could begin by placing the weapon on the..."
"Bertha, my love! My binary blossom, it was nothing!" Marty's roughly synthesized voice interjected, as the squat box-like robot seemed to dance from side to side. "A thirty second upload in a parallel connection, I swear! She means nothing to me!"
Turning toward the squat machine, Kai-ro looked sternly over at the waste robot and offered, "I do not believe such protests will be effect..."
"Upload!?" Bertha echoed, drawing both Marty and Kai-ro's attention to the chemist-turned-barmaid at the distinctive sound of the caster bolt being drawn back. "UPLOAD!?"
"Upload? No, I didn't upload in her..." Marty uttered weakly.
This was, in the boy's mind, exactly what a train wreck in slow motion must look like. "Kakpa," the child swore under his breath, as a large green shield appeared between himself, Marty, and the bar as several ion bolts slammed into the willpower construct. This was not what he'd envisioned for himself when he'd been in the monastery in Tibet.
"I had reconstructive surgery for you!" Bertha barked, pausing her barrage as she gestured toward what were obviously a new set of oscillating processor tubes across the front of her torso.
"Yes'm, those are nice," Kai-ro quipped vapidly, not entirely certain that made sense, and less so just what he was saying, but it made sense to say something as he gestured with both hands for her to put the caster down. "We can talk about this rationally and without the need for viol..."
"Bitch, you best recognize that's my man!"
There were very few times that Kai-ro would have offered the opinion that discussion was a useless endeavor. As the automated food processor came wheeling into the bar, however, the Buddhist monk had to resign himself to the fact that this was one of those times.
"Oh, hell no!"
As Bertha roared and snapped up the rifle, the spry, young Green Lantern was already in motion. Quick as a snake, a sweep of the boy's leg had sent the Badoon rifle skidding across the bar top, as a series of green handcuffs snapped onto her reedy limbs. "Weapons discharge in an enclosed space environment is a class five misdemeanor," the youth asserted in a matter-of-fact tone. "I believe some time apart on Oa will help in alleviating this conflic..."
"GET YUR HANDS OFF MY WIFE!"
As he turned, Kai-ro saw Marty lunging for him, as the food processor came wheeling after. "That's my man!"
...next reincarnation, the boy decided that he would very much like to be anything other than himself right now.
A S T E R O I D
B L U E H E A V E N
All units in the vicinity of Sector 2814.666, be advised we have a reports of a domestic disturbance on the station. Proceed with caution.
The small spacecraft exited out of the singularity, a blue glow radiating from the ion drives as power was diverted to the sublight engines, the kinetic force combining with the resulting inertial to propel the pristine vessel toward the massive rock which hung like a rogue planet against the backdrop of space. Inside the space craft, a feminine voice echoed and said, "We have entered Sector 2814.666. Adjusting vector for approach to space station Blue Heaven."
Blue Heaven was originally a private enterprise. Long ago, this sector had been a commercial corridor for the movement of goods between the Kymellian Technomancy and the Shi'ar Imperium. Today, with that corridor closed off by an intergalactic prohibition on travel in or near the vicinity of the planet Ysmault the economic situation had taken a sudden downturn. Now, it was home to drifters and smugglers. Fringers, they were called. Without local government law enforcement, it had become necessary for the Corps to provide for community police protection before the outpost became even worse than it already was.
As it stood, this was the fourth time in the boy's short career that he had visited Blue Heaven. He had attempted to bring peace, but had settled for brief periods of ceasefire instead. Pausing, as he prepared to disembark the ship, the young monk closed his eyes as he drew in a cleansing breath. "Om mani padme hum," he uttered. Part meditation. Part prayer.
Part much needed support for his own sanity.
There were creatures in this world - in this universe - who tested the patience of even the most virtuous monk. If experience had taught him anything, it was that he should expect to have his faith and his character tested by what he was about to discover. Peace. Compassion. Peace... the boy repeated to himself, drawing in a deep breath which he let out slowly as he stepped into the airlock. The boy brought his right hand up, adjusting the distinctive ring on his middle finger. A green aura enveloped his small form, as the exterior hatch was pulled away like a curtain to reveal the naked cosmos outside. Gently, the boy's foot drifted from off the deck as he floated freely into the vacuum awaiting him.
Space could be frightening the first time. There was no concept of up or down. No compass points with which to orient the mind. Some never overcame the vertigo. But Kai-ro? Kai-ro felt like this was true freedom. Putting his arms by his side, the child ducked and then pushed himself out through the void like a dolphin sliding through the sea. Gliding across the emptiness, the youth arced upward to arrive at an airlock that would give entry to the asteroid base. A pulse from his ring and the door parted for him, and Kai-ro stepped inside.
A century before, the asteroid had been cored out by a mining corporation. Left an empty shell, the remains of the mining station had been hastily converted into a port of call for people out on the fringe of this part of space. Pirates. Smugglers. Drug runners. The Green Lanterns knew that Blue Heaven, as it had come to be called, was nothing more than a waypoint from criminal elements drifting through the sector. But suspicion didn't amount to evidence, and so the Green Lanterns could do little more than keep an eye on the station. Still, it remained a lawless wonderland. A ghetto in space. Trash crunched under foot, along with something squishy that Kai-ro immediately tried not to think about as he made his way inside of the shoddy asteroid port.
B37T4-A, or Big Bertha, had originally been programmed as a lab assistant for a chemical company. Later advances in robotics and artificial intelligence design had led to Bertha being thrown out with the trash, but instead of being resigning herself to being reduced to scrap, the rusted automaton had wound up opening a bar out on Blue Heaven. There, she'd met up with a waste disposal unit that everyone called 'Marty' and the two had mixed like oil and water. Their passions for one another were, perhaps, impressive given the limitations of their designs, but that passion led to destructive behavior - usually by Bertha - which was of increasing concern to the residents of Blue Heaven.
That alone was concerning. It took a great deal for someone who lived on Blue Heaven to want to call the Lanterns.
As the young Green Lantern walked through the doors of the bar, an ion bolt buried itself into the wall about three feet to the left and two heads higher than he stood. The smell of residual gas coolant gave credence to the notion that such hadn't been the first shot fired, which would explain why someone would have been willing, if not eager, to call the Lanterns. In space, with the risk of the hull being compromised, no one won a gun fight.
Bertha was behind the bar, plugged into a voltage converted that had obviously made her onboard components drunk from the power surge. In one of her reedy, articulate limbs was a relic of the Badoon Civil War, a gas-powered ion bolt caster that was little more than a high-tech slug thrower. "You whore," the robotic bar tender managed, loudly slurring her words as her servos were unable to precisely calibrate for motion. The rifle waved wildly toward a squat, dirty-looking robot. "I... I kill you and... and that automated hussy!"
"Perhaps we could begin by placing the weapon on the..."
"Bertha, my love! My binary blossom, it was nothing!" Marty's roughly synthesized voice interjected, as the squat box-like robot seemed to dance from side to side. "A thirty second upload in a parallel connection, I swear! She means nothing to me!"
Turning toward the squat machine, Kai-ro looked sternly over at the waste robot and offered, "I do not believe such protests will be effect..."
"Upload!?" Bertha echoed, drawing both Marty and Kai-ro's attention to the chemist-turned-barmaid at the distinctive sound of the caster bolt being drawn back. "UPLOAD!?"
"Upload? No, I didn't upload in her..." Marty uttered weakly.
This was, in the boy's mind, exactly what a train wreck in slow motion must look like. "Kakpa," the child swore under his breath, as a large green shield appeared between himself, Marty, and the bar as several ion bolts slammed into the willpower construct. This was not what he'd envisioned for himself when he'd been in the monastery in Tibet.
"I had reconstructive surgery for you!" Bertha barked, pausing her barrage as she gestured toward what were obviously a new set of oscillating processor tubes across the front of her torso.
"Yes'm, those are nice," Kai-ro quipped vapidly, not entirely certain that made sense, and less so just what he was saying, but it made sense to say something as he gestured with both hands for her to put the caster down. "We can talk about this rationally and without the need for viol..."
"Bitch, you best recognize that's my man!"
There were very few times that Kai-ro would have offered the opinion that discussion was a useless endeavor. As the automated food processor came wheeling into the bar, however, the Buddhist monk had to resign himself to the fact that this was one of those times.
"Oh, hell no!"
As Bertha roared and snapped up the rifle, the spry, young Green Lantern was already in motion. Quick as a snake, a sweep of the boy's leg had sent the Badoon rifle skidding across the bar top, as a series of green handcuffs snapped onto her reedy limbs. "Weapons discharge in an enclosed space environment is a class five misdemeanor," the youth asserted in a matter-of-fact tone. "I believe some time apart on Oa will help in alleviating this conflic..."
"GET YUR HANDS OFF MY WIFE!"
As he turned, Kai-ro saw Marty lunging for him, as the food processor came wheeling after. "That's my man!"
...next reincarnation, the boy decided that he would very much like to be anything other than himself right now.
@Bounce I'm a little offended that Damian uses and iPhone while the LexPhone is obviously the superior mobile device!
Other than that great post.
Edited to be a LexPhone!
:D
Bludhaven
Avalon Hills
The boy walked from the street up the yard toward the house.
A flash-bang grenade was bouncing in his hand, casually tossed up and caught as though he was playing with a baseball as he strode toward the bay window in the house where a group of men were clustered around a table. These were million dollar homes, in a gated community, in American suburbia. But it was still Bludhaven. The police officers who were on the take knew better than to get to a scene too quickly, in case they interfered with one of the mob's hits. And the police officers who weren't on the take didn't want to become a statistic when they rolled up, sans back-up, on armed criminals who were better equipped than the Los Angeles SWAT team. The average police response time to a 9-1-1 call in Bludhaven was thirty minutes.
That clock started now.
The glass shattered as the pitch sailed through the window to bounce off the middle of the table. Several loud exclamations were heard, before the crowd control grenade did it's thing and blew out the remainder of the window.
At the same time the shards were flying out to litter the front lawn, the small ninja was sailing inside of the house. He fired the first shot while still in the air, the bullet catching a man to one side of the dinner table in the ear. The blood spray from the exit wound flew in all directions as the man was spun around by the bullet. A pair of kid's black Heely sneakers slid across the table, clearing the wine and glasses as the child planed out as though he were doing the limbo. Two more shots were fired, each catching a man as they struggled to pull their guns in the wake of the flash-bang, the blood, and the gunshots. Planting on his back for a moment, the boy kicked up to vault over onto the floor.
The Walther was level in his hand as he landed, aimed at a disheveled man who'd been opening a second bottle of wine. Val Kaliban had a look of shock on his face. Another mafioso was bursting into the kitchen, a Czech-75 in hand. Adjusting his elevation just slightly, the boy took a shot that whizzed within an inch of Kaliban's head. The back corner of the kitchen with it's stainless steel oven/microwave combination built into the wall, was splattered in red as the bullet entered through the man's throat to exit out the base of his skull.
It was then that the Spook finally snapped back to reality. Blinking, the man was propelled back into the present. "Shit!" the man swore, hands and arms flailing about the counters as he searched desperately for a weapon with which to defend himself. His hand dove into the knife block. Faintly amused, the young assassin merely watched. Movement along the floor alerted him to a mafioso who was still alive. Shifting the pistol to his left hand, the boy casually brought the muzzle down toward a man struggling to lift his head up from the floor. Squeezing the trigger, the boy put a round through the top of his head. A gurgling sound echoing as the body convulsed before hitting the ground.
The slide had locked back with the shot. As the boy looked up, Val Kaliban had drawn a butcher's cleaver from out of the knife block and was running toward him. "-tt-" the youth uttered, clicking his tongue. Ejecting the magazine, the boy casually tossed the pistol up into the air before he shifted his body posture into a Jeet Kune Do stance. A left block-strike at the knife hand to deflect the attack, then he countered with a palm-heel strike to the man's throat.
Kaliban went staggering back, the knife discarded as the man gagged and choked, clawing at his throat as he tried to breathe. Catching the pistol as it dropped back into his hand, the boy reached into his pocket and casually removed a spare magazine. As Kaliban started to recover, the youth tapped the clip up into the butt of the gun, chambering a round when he forced the slide forward again.
Kaliban made another lunge for the child when a gunshot sounded. The Spook had gone down on his left knee before he'd even known what had happened, looking down in shock to see his right leg covered in blood and his kneecap completely out of alignment. A second gunshot caught the man in the left shoulder, spinning him around as he went down on the carpet. His heartbeat and the sound of his own labored breathing echoing in his ears as he gazed, wide-eyed and terrified over what looked like a war zone. Now, death was not at all as pretty as the television shows would have you believe. The smell of shit burned at his nostrils, mingled with the slight ammonia smell of gunpowder. As the muscles of the body seized and were suddenly relaxed, one or more of the corpses in the room had defecated themselves as their colons were voided.
Holstering the pistol, the child killer reached up to pop the ear buds from out of his ear as he produced a LexPhone. As he thumbed through the touchpad to FaceTime, the sounds of pop music could be heard trickling from the small headphones now dangling down the front of his shirt. ♪...lets lose our minds and go crazy crazy... oh ya ya ya I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean...♪ The child spoke what sounded like Arabic for a moment, before tossing the phone down so that it landed face-up near the Spook's head. A voice spoke English, the familiar tone immediately sending a new wave a dread through the man. "Mister Kaliban."
The man on the screen was Ra's al Ghul. And that was all that Val Kaliban knew. Who was he? Where had he come from? How was it that he'd avoided the notice of every governmental intelligence agency from the U.S. to the Australians? Kaliban had tried to find just some of those answers, and had quickly realized that the risks of such knowledge far exceeded the potential pay outs. But he'd assumed, based on what he knew, that Ra's al Ghul's League of Assassins was a minor operation with only localized power. That they couldn't conduct an operation inside of the United States. Not without tipping their hand to the FBI.
It seemed the Spook's intel had been wrong. "I was so disappointed when I learned that you had chosen to pursue new employment opportunities," Ra's said, through the screen on the smartphone. "But, the League respects that there are many paths for men to travel. We can tolerate diversity, Mister Kaliban, but not treachery. Nothing personal, of course. Simply good business."
Through the reflection on the phone's screen, Kaliban caught the child pulling what looked like some kind of short katana from behind his back. Twisting his head around, the man caught a flash of steel before he let loose an instinctive scream.
"I'll be seeing you soon, Mister Kaliban," Ra's was commenting, as a spray of blood suddenly covered the phone. A red puddle was spreading through the carpet around the device as the man added, "Well, part of you anyway."
Had been working on a Kai-ro post, but I hit a wall.
I might focus on Damian and let Kai-ro slide to the backburner for a bit.
I might focus on Damian and let Kai-ro slide to the backburner for a bit.
The invention of spray cheese seems like a good start the best thing that ever happened.
Fixed that for you.
Seriously, spray cheese and chicken-in-a-biscuit. Shit will blow your mind.
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