clanjos

Saturday Morning Fun

Well, I'm sorry to say I'm gonna have to can this for while. It's been about two weeks, only three people have expressed interest, and of those only one has a complete sheet. I'll probably come back to this eventually though, and I'll be sure to let you guys know.

@Burning Kitty@Wolpertingers@Menhir

A.I. am Human

Sorry, it was just so long between your posts, and you were still active in other games, I figured you had just quietly abandoned this and wanted to avoid poking the wound.

Saturday Morning Fun

Scraphunter looks good! I'll probably wait for some more folks to start up though.

Saturday Morning Fun

In the year of 1993, humanity perfected its first warp drive, opening the gate to the stars! We discovered that in the far reaches of space exists a highly advanced galactic community of aliens of all shapes and sizes. This society has become so advanced that mundane crime is all but extinct. But to take its place, strange new criminals have arisen with bizarre new forms of crime! Chief among these ne'er-do-wells is the Cosmic Ring of Intergalactic Masterminds and Evildoers, otherwise known as C.R.I.M.E.! Led by a criminal mastermind known only as The Big Brain, C.R.I.M.E. seeks to rule the underworld of the cosmos!

To combat the threats faced by galactic civilization, long ago the people of the Milky Way set up an order of lawmen. Led for centuries by the gruff and mysterious Chief Hyperion, these unique individuals from across the stars have come together. Humans and aliens, men and machines! These stalwart champions stand together, dedicated to the highest ideals of justice. Sworn to preserve law and order across the universe, they are... the Galacticops! Their mission: To protect and serve the galaxy!

---
Do you remember sitting around on Saturday mornings, watching cartoons designed to sell you toys? Well, Galacticops is a game meant to emulate those halcyon days of youth. An order of spacecops stand against monsters, invaders, and a galaxy-spanning network of organized crime. The idea for this show, and the accompanying toyline, is that a toy company had a bunch of toy licenses they couldn't sell on their own merits. Seeing the success of other toy-based TV shows, they decided to slap all the toylines together in a single universe, writing off the wildly different aesthetics and designs as being aliens from various planets. There's a couple of things to keep in mind regarding tone and such.

• The game's going to be drenched in optimism, like the cartoons of old. The morality's black and white, there's minimal angst and depression, and there's not going to be a lot of overly dark villain plots. We're not IDW here.
• Let's be honest. Transformers, GI Joe, He-Man, Silverhawks, these were shows designed to sell toys. When making your character, consider the following question: "If I was a kid, would I buy this action figure?"
• Keep the power level reasonable for, say, He-Man or COPS.
• I like spacewizards as much as the next guy, but I'd rather keep everything tech-based. Feel free to have a dude whose tech looks like wizard gear or something though!

---

Sheet

• Real Name: Although naming conventions vary between cartoons, you'd never find one that was totally mundane. Jason Steele, B.P. Vess, Dr. Kranial, it should feel like something from a cheesy 80's cartoon.
• Code Name: The pithy name that goes on the box.
• Tagline: A catchphrase, or a little line to give an idea of your character's outlook and gimmick.
• Appearance: What features would make it an action figure that would appeal to the show’s target audience? Kids aren’t going to beg their parents to buy them the toy of a nondescript guy in a business suit, after all. Images are okay too.
• Toy Blurb: Your personality, your history, and any fun facts about your character.
• Powers, Skills, Equipment, and Abilities: Please avoid being Johnny Twelvedicks, Master of Reality.

Example: CYBER SHARK

• Real Name: Carcer O'Donovan
• Code Name: Cyber Shark
• Tagline: "You've bit off more than you can chew!"
• Appearance: img.booru.org/grognard//images/6/b9bf…
  Cyber Shark's toy features different plastics on the cybernetics, with surprisingly detailed surfaces inside the mouth. He's a fairly huge dude, standing at about eight feet tall.
• Toy Blurb: An aquatic alien hailing from the watery world of Aquarion 6, CYBER SHARK was once an ordinary cop. When it was discovered that a bomb had been attached to the outside of hotel for land dwellers in the city of New Aquapolis, Carcer was quick to react, grabbing the bomb and moving it away from the hotel. However, such a powerful explosive couldn't be left anywhere near the city's sealed environments, leaving him with one option: Swim up and away from the glass structures. The bomb exploded as soon as he was safely away from the area, severely damaging his arms and legs. He woke up in the hospital three days later, with a call from CHIEF HYPERION himself. Carcer's heroism had impressed the Chief so much that he paid for cybernetic limb replacements and offered him a job. Seeing a higher calling, he took them up on the offer and received the codename "Cyber Shark." Now, CYBER SHARK heads up the GALACTICOPS SWAT TEAM. This loose-cannon cop might not have a lot of respect for the rules, but there are few officers you'd rather have watching your back. Fiercely loyal, he is absolutely dedicated to the ideals of the Galacticops. With his AEROGILL, he crosses land and sea to use his CYBERNETIC STRENGTH and SUPRA-VOLVER CONCUSSION CANNON to stop criminals in their tracks. While he loves the freedom an AEROGILL provides, he makes a point of flooding his office so he doesn't have to wear it. He'll eat anything, but he has a particular love for burgers.
• Powers, Skills, Equipment, and Abilities:
  
  
  
  • AEROGILL: This device, standard for any gilled species, keeps Carcer's gills nice and moist, allowing him to breathe out of water. Of course, he still floods his office for comfort's sake.
  • CYBER ARM AND LEGS: Carcer's cybernetics are top of the line models, meant to be able to build strength and take ridiculous amounts of punishment. They grant him incredible strength and stability, able to lift small cars with a great deal of effort.
  • SUPRA-VOLVER CONCUSSION CANNON: This revolver-styled pistol takes eight shots. It fires specialized nonlethal rounds that knock foes off their feet and stun them.
  • SHARK ACTION: Cyber Shark is a master swimmer who comes with MEGA-BITING ACTION! Lift his right arm and he'll snap his jaws!

A.I. am Human

Cyborg 001

Name: Ken Hayakawa
Cyborg # : 001
Nationality: Japanese
Age When Created: 27

Additional Power:
You're Only Second Best: Ken's eyes contain a highly advanced scanning system, allowing him to observe someone performing a mundane skill. After observing them, he is able to perform the skill even better than they are- be it carpentry, bartending, kung-fu, trick shooting, horseback riding, billiards, fishing, American Football, or anything in between. The improvement on the technique allows him to turn the most mundane of skills into a deadly martial art.

Likes: Children, small animals, mountain climbing, martial arts, playing the acoustic guitar, fine tobacco
Dislikes: Crime, drinking, horses, folks who take advantage of the desperate

Former Occupation: Private Detective

Experience:

• Wiped out Dakkar, a consortium of arms dealers and organized criminals
• Wiped out a cell of Brazilian Nazi remnants led by Nazi Jaguar
• Cleared a 38-man list of Black Ghost's hired killers
• Defeated Baboon Buddha, a cult leader kidnapping people in China's remote provinces
• Drove the Blackheart Gang out of Dodge City
• Single-handedly busted the biggest drug operation in Tokyo
• Avenged the death of his best friend

Appearance: Here. Usually, he wears a black poncho and has a guitar slung over his back, in addition to a sizable duffel bag that contains all his worldly belongings- mostly clothes, camping gear, and cigarettes.

BRIEF Bio: Ken was once a simple drifter that loved mountain climbing. Gifted with sharp analytical powers and keen senses, a friend of his suggested he make a name for himself in the streets of Japan's cities, where he found work as a private detective. This proved to be quite lucrative, allowing him to do good for the citizens- while also lining his wallet. However, one day, he and his friend found themselves on a bus with two politicians that a certain turf boss from Dakkar sought to eliminate. While the bus was on a bridge, Ken heard a distinctive ticking... and immediately realized what was happening. Evacuating the bus as quickly as he could, the two proceeded to drive it out of the city and to a rural area... but they couldn't stop the bomb in time. While damage was minimized, the two politicians, the private detective, and his friend ended up in a hospital. Dakkar promptly attempted to burn it to the ground. The politicians died in the blaze, while an unknown assailant gunned down Ken's friend in the confusion. Ken, however, was captured and sold to Black Ghost for conversion into a cyborg. He eventually returned to being a drifter, going wherever destiny took him and fighting whatever crime and villainy he was faced with.

Notes:

A.I. am Human (Cyborg 009 remake)

Where does the Cyborg 009 vs Devilman series fit in? I've quite literally just got into both of these franchises so I was at a loss for words when finding out they crossed over.

@Omega Man

The thing about crossovers is they only matter if a Transformer, Ultraman, or Kamen Rider Decade shows up in them. Otherwise, they're self-contained things that will never be referenced again, unless it's another crossover.

A.I. am Human (Cyborg 009 remake)

Cyborg 001

Name: Ken Hayakawa
Cyborg # : 001
Nationality: Japanese
Age When Created: 27

Additional Power:
You're Only Second Best: Ken's eyes contain a highly advanced scanning system, allowing him to observe someone performing a mundane skill. After observing them, he is able to perform the skill even better than they are- be it carpentry, bartending, kung-fu, trick shooting, horseback riding, billiards, fishing, American Football, or anything in between. The improvement on the technique allows him to turn the most mundane of skills into a deadly martial art.

Likes: Children, small animals, mountain climbing, martial arts, playing the acoustic guitar, fine tobacco
Dislikes: Crime, drinking, horses, folks who take advantage of the desperate

Former Occupation: Private Detective

Experience:

• Wiped out Dakkar, a consortium of arms dealers and organized criminals
• Wiped out a cell of Brazilian Nazi remnants led by Nazi Jaguar
• Cleared a 38-man list of Black Ghost's hired killers
• Defeated Baboon Buddha, a cult leader kidnapping people in China's remote provinces
• Drove the Blackheart Gang out of Dodge City
• Single-handedly busted the biggest drug operation in Tokyo
• Avenged the death of his best friend

Appearance: Here. Usually, he wears a black poncho and has a guitar slung over his back, in addition to a sizable duffel bag that contains all his worldly belongings- mostly clothes, camping gear, and cigarettes.

BRIEF Bio: Ken was once a simple drifter that loved mountain climbing. Gifted with sharp analytical powers and keen senses, a friend of his suggested he make a name for himself in the streets of Japan's cities, where he found work as a private detective. This proved to be quite lucrative, allowing him to do good for the citizens- while also lining his wallet. However, one day, he and his friend found themselves on a bus with two politicians that a certain turf boss from Dakkar sought to eliminate. While the bus was on a bridge, Ken heard a distinctive ticking... and immediately realized what was happening. Evacuating the bus as quickly as he could, the two proceeded to drive it out of the city and to a rural area... but they couldn't stop the bomb in time. While damage was minimized, the two politicians, the private detective, and his friend ended up in a hospital. Dakkar promptly attempted to burn it to the ground. The politicians died in the blaze, while an unknown assailant gunned down Ken's friend in the confusion. Ken, however, was captured and sold to Black Ghost for conversion into a cyborg. He eventually returned to being a drifter, going wherever destiny took him and fighting whatever crime and villainy he was faced with.

Notes:

Heroes Reborn - A DCAU Roleplay (Always open!)

October 30th, 2:30 PM Local Time
Skull Island, In the North Pacific

The passenger pigeons and carolina parakeets flitted about over the shores of Skull Island. A Dodo bird chased a plump looking grub, and a dolphin flitted about in the waters near the dock. On this dock, Lord Death man sat, once again, awaiting one of his guests- this time a fellow long-lived crimelord. Sure, he and King Snake had spent most of the 60's trying to kill each other, but it was an unstoppable force versus an unkillable object...

or however that phrase goes. Lord Death Man thought, petting a panting canine creature. I really hope Snake didn't rip this one to shreds. It'd be awkward sending another guy.

King Snake had, in fact, torn apart the body, but only as a means of disposal after he had found what he was looking for. The invitation had been, rather creatively he had to admit, etched onto the would-be assassin's flesh by way of his irezumi tattoo. Or rather via specific points, new additions and mistakes by any other metric, where the needle had scarred the skin and left minuscule bumps for his superior sense of touch to find. On a full suit of ink.

Finding it all spread across the man's body had taken more time and more feeling up a cadaver than he cared to admit, and it read:

King Snake, I apologize, but this was a little long to fit on a knife. Our rivalry has lasted longer than most criminal careers. I remember the first time we had a duel on top of a bridge in Beijing, when I refused to pay tribute for the use of the city's ports- you didn't want to abide by the previous boss's agreements with me. Anyway, after I tossed you to the ground, you managed to take me by surprise and throw me overboard into the smokestack of a passing ship. Damn, you really should have seen your face when I confronted you a week later. You were eating at a fine restaurant, and out of the kitchen I come, roundhouse kicking your date because you switched seats. God that was awkward. Anyway, I believe we are adults, and after our understanding in the 80's, I believe we can do business. I am working on a glorious undertaking that will redefine crime as we know it. I need all the old hands I can get. I even managed to get Wolf Carson on board, and it turns out that ludicrous rumor about the brain transplant was accurate. I, and the others I've brought on for this, will be at the following coordinates. I don't know how to do numbers, just translate this part into braille seventeen degrees fifty four minutes fifty two seconds north one hundred and thirty six degrees eleven minutes fifty five seconds east

This is Skull Island, and it was my base in Polynesia during the second World War. There are several rare and exotic creatures, and I advise your henchmen not to harm them, or else I will have their skin. Accomodations are prepared for all one hundred and eight guests, and the announcement will be made on Halloween to allow ample time for my guests to arrive. I trust I can count on your cooperation.

Death Man Out.

Desmond Dorrance had to, at the very least, respect the dead man's dedication. That was a lot of painful needlework to go through. Everywhere on his anatomy. But that had been four days ago and the dead man did not matter. What mattered was that King Snake's interest had definitely been piqued, and so he had arranged instructions for his Society of Snakes in Shadows to continue carrying out their work while he attended the meeting. The walking dead were to be harvested in utmost secrecy, kept subdued where they might feed on negative energies. In bloody murder sites across the world, places steeped in terror and anger and hate, King Snake's army would grow.

But for the moment Sir Desmond was accompanied by a lone man, only his majordomo Singh was privy to such important machinations and so he was the one piloting the high speed cabin cruiser towards the given coordinates. Not the Snake Cruiser or the King's Cruiser or somesuch, that was the sort of the name he would reserve for his luxury yacht were he the type to name his vessels in such a manner. But he wasn't. Besides, the Dorrance yacht was reserved for leisure only, this powerful one-man crew machine was all business and made for rapid, uneventful transit.

Lord Death Man, with his typical whimsical demeanor, sat in his colorful lawnchair as the speedboat came into port, stroking a tasmanian tiger. He gave a nonchalant wave to the blind Englishman and his manservant.

"Ah, King Snake! Now, this is just a formality but, I'm going to be honest, I figured you died. The braille in the Irezumi is a good indicator you're not, but I need to be absolutely sure that you're the real deal."

The skeleton-clad Yakuza stood up suddenly, opening his arms wide. "Somewhere on or near this jetty, there is an assassin! Tell me, where are they, what are they armed with, and what fighting style does their stance suggest?"

"The rumors of my death were greatly exagerated, as I am sure you learned from Chien Na Wei's flight. But given my absence, doubts are entirely reasonable", came the reply, as Desmond stood still on his craft's deck, his trusty cane in hand. By this point, Singh knew better than to get in the way and simply found a place to wait out the proceedings, a pair of revolvers and his old kukri handy just in case.

King Snake tapped his cane down. Once, twice. He listened. He felt his surroundings, he intensified his focus. In some bushes to the left, there was a small native boy with a spear- a fishing spear. No, couldn't be him. Too simple, too direct, and the skull disliked children coming to harm. No one would send an assassin against Desmond Dorrance knowing of his true identity expecting them to survive. There was a man in one of the skeleton-themed outfits Death Man assigned to his henchmen to maintain their anonymity. Again, too plain and obvious. Where, then, would a test for him hide?

Ah, of course. Where to hide from someone with his senses, someone who could perceive every sound, every scent, every vibration from the air? With a wordless smile, Snake approached the side of his boat and calmly dipped his cane beneath the waves, holding an end to his ear. He remembered when the water signified a return complete darkness, a weak spot he could not allow himself. Focusing, he felt the currents, the flow, the vibrations, using his cane he fished for faint sounds he could otherwise not feel above water. And he felt it. The tell-tale twitch of a thrill killer. The fast-paced maddened thoughts only the mind that spawned them could comprehend. The cold, waterproofed steel of the trench knife. And the bubbles escaping from the blowhole as it slowly approached the boat.

"Oh for the love of..." was all Snake could mouth off before the assassin made his move. Its move. This really needs to stop, he managed to think to himself before steeling body and mind for battle. The surface of the ocean burst. The spray hit Snake as he took a step back and out of his crouch, turning to the side of the boat with cane at the ready and held out in front of him much like a sword. He could see the rainbow in his mind as the assailant cut through the air in a clear trajectory over his craft but low enough to strike at him, knife held between clenched teeth on a bottle-like snout. It was a goddamn dolphin.

The dolphin took a swipe with the knife as he leapt over the boat, going straight for the top of Snake's head with a maniacal series of clicks and whistles. Of course, such an attack loses much of its surprise value when you know that a dolphin is after you. Of course, the very sight of a dolphin leaping for a flying slash would be enough to trip up most men, but King Snake was not most men. His reputation for cold blooded ruthlessness and absolute readiness for murder was well deserved. Besides, given his track record it would have been more surprising if Lord Death Man had used the skeleton-costumed henchman instead.

With a minimum of graceful motion King Snake defended himself. Cane already in place, with strong footing and the advantage in reach, it took but a simple flick of the wrist to knock the dolphin's blade off its intended path and he doubted the marine creature could switch "grips". Still tracking his attacker with the very end of his weapon, Dorrance took the slightest pivot and sidestepped away from the trajectory of the leap wholesale. Letting it return to the water would not do, however, and Snake pressed the advantage, flicking his cane back only to disdainfully snap it down against the animal's skull. The dolphin squeaked and whistled as Death Man sat, unperturbed.

Fuck, the henchman was supposed to try and kneecap him. The fuck is Bakurai doing?

The dolphin's thoughts, of course, were simple. STAB THE LIMEY! GUT THE BRIT! BLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODDIEEEEEEEEEE AND MOMMY WILL LOVE MEEEEE!

Simple, but not those of a sane cetacean.

For its part, the dolphin continued putting up an amiable fight, flopping around the deck and tossing his trench knife at King Snake before reaching to a bandolier of more knives and taking one in his teeth. Back on the shore, the henchman had finally drawn the sleek pistol that Death Man had secreted in a soundproof pocket of his trousers in an effort to disguise it from King Snake until it was drawn. He fumbled a few times with it, obviously confused by the events unfolding on the boat, and accidentally fired a round skyward, causing birds across the island to dive for the trees as the dolphin continued its assault on Dorrance's ankles.

The gunshot was met with several in kind, with Singh taking the bullet as a sign that things were not going as planned. A six shooter emptied in the direction of the sound and the other towards the observing crime lord, the surprise making the gurkha's usually quite lethal aim wide and turning it into suppressing fire, but Dorrance knew he could trust his aide should the situation degenerate further. For the moment he was busy after parrying the thrown blade, feet darting and shuffling to and fro, more concerned with protecting his bespoke outfit than with any sort of risk to his well being. "That is quite ENOUGH".

Punctuating the sentence was a graceful flip over the thrashing creature, a means of avoiding one final slash, gaining an advantageous position and showcasing his capacity for effortlessly spectacular agility. A single thrust of the cane as he was airborne and quite literally looking down on his target and Bakurai's blowhole was most mercilessly intruded upon by the wooden shaft, with the briton subsequently landing next to its now harmless form putting his weight down on it. The psychotic dolphin made an attempt to gasp. However, with its blowhole plugged, it was left to choke.

Meanwhile, one of Singh's bullets went straight into the head of the yakuza, the force causing him to slump over and the chair to flip back as a red dot expanded from the singed bullet-hole in his skull mask- and the clear path to the other side of his head. At about a forty five degree angle, however, life returned to his eyes and he quickly pushed off the ground into a flip, landing on his feet and cracking his neck.

"I agree, King Snake. Bakurai turned this into a bit of a farce, but I'd appreciate it if you'd let him go. It's hard to teach dolphins knife-fighting. And you, Saburo," Lord Death Man said as he turned to the henchman, his head already closing the wound, "Learn some goddamn trigger discipline."

With that, he took his own cane in hand and walked towards the boat, already chuckling over the dolphin's faux pas. "I suppose that is enough proof indeed. Welcome to Skull Island, one of my international safehouses. It's a temporary measure for this endeavor, because we'll be building to something much bigger in the near future. Bakurai, go back to chasing seals into old naval mines."

King Snake was not at all one to let attacks on his person go unpunished, but he was a guest here and killing house pets would be in very poor form. With a grunt, though waiting perhaps a moment too long, he removed his weapon from his fallen foe and pushed the cetacean overboard with his foot. The slightest of hand gestures made Singh holster his already reloaded guns down and the majordomo sat back down on the pilot's seat, wordlessly checking the blade on his razor sharp knife. Just in case.

"Perhaps you might be better served improving your men's training, rather than putting all this effort on beasts. But I see you stand strong as ever in your ways after my absence". Smiling confidently himself, Sir Desmond Dorrance stepped out of his craft and into Skull Island, offering his oftentime rival a firm handshake, which the Yakuza accepted. "It is good to see some things unchanged by time. And I must admit you have my interest. What do you have in mind that needs all of this, all of us?".

"I've told you. I intend to redefine crime, and the first step is a concerted effort to perform the greatest heist in history."

"Desmond, we're stealing Atlantis."

Heroes Reborn - A DCAU Roleplay (Always open!)

October 27th, 11:30 AM Local Time
Skull Island, In the North Pacific

Skull Island was a cliche within a cliche. An uncharted tropical island thickly covered in jungle. Strange animal cries unknown to the civilized world echoed out from the thick blanket of plant life. And, true to its name, there was a volcanic mountain in the shape of a skull after centuries of volcanic activity. On a beach on the north side of the island, however, Lord Death Man sat on a stony jetty long ago frequented by Spanish trade ships and pirates. Sitting on a deck chair next to a table with an umbrella with an ice-cold pitcher of lemonade, Lord Death Man reclined and listening to the cry of a large, noisy flock of colorful birds. Telescope in hand, he watched the horizon for signs of his guests. While he had the Deathsub, the others would likely need their own means of transport.

At least part of the reason for these particular cries from the colorful birds came as a result of Bane, who of course came to Skull Island aboard the Deathsub. Standing tall, well both out of confidence in a metaphorical sense he was physically taller than he was during his shenanigans in Mexico. Now the masked man they called Bane stood at a height of six feet and four inches. Sure it might've only been ten inches and a bit more muscle mass as a result of the mix of horrific surgery to lengthen bones that'd spook even hardened back-alley doctors and more exposure to his delightful blend of drugs the FDA would never approve, but it was surely going to be helpful to his "brand". And more importantly Bane remembered those words Joe told him when he introduced him to Hell; more mass.

And at this moment, while he would've preferred to be dressed in his more appropriate work-out attire, perhaps some swim trunks for some tropical cardio, there was "office business" to be done. So apart from his usual attire of drug insertion, Bane was dressed in a white floral shirt, black suit pants and some combat boots.

Now the reason for the shrieking of these colorful birds was due to Bane shouting at the ones flying a bit overhead. "DO YOU THINK YOU ARE WORTHY OF SERVITUDE TO LORD DEATH MAN!?"

To emphasize his point, and possibly to let out a bit of steam, Bane lunged upwards with a flying knee, which managed to catch part of the lower-flying flock and put them out of comission. He took one of the birds which began helplessly chirping, and flapping its wings in an attempt to fly. But it was of no use as the creature was brought up towards Bane's face.

"Do. You. UNDERSTAND?" after this interrogation he threw the bird against one of the many particularly hard looking flora. "Are you certain they will come of their own will? Do you need me to drag them here?"

"Woah woah woah! Bane, lad, don't go throwing the Carolina Parakeet. They're supposed to be extinct. Skull Island is an effort to reintroduce them into the wild. And... well, especially don't go kicking the Thylacines. It took me months in Tasmania to find enough for a breeding population."

"Hrm." Bane grumbled out as he glanced down at the downed bird. "I was unaware. ...I will try to take better care in which animals I assault here. I cannot promise anything however. But still I offer my apologies Lord Death Man."

"It's alright Bane, you're new on this, and it's okay to make mistakes. I suppose our first guest will be Manta- we've had dealings in the past."

Bane rolled his neck from side to side before placing both of his hands behind his head. Moving his legs a bit apart he glanced towards Lord Death Man, "Good dealings I hope or well I assume considering he is going to be one of the guests." he stated before performing some squats.

"Yes, he actually sold me the Deathsub. Refurbished it too after I promised I'd take potshots at any Atlanteans I saw. By the way, Atlantis is real, we're going to rob it some day."

"I-it is...?" Behind the mask Bane's eyes twinkled with a childish sense of wonder. He rose up and stopped doing his squats, "Is it true Plato lives there? I always wanted to make him tap out..." As he allowed his mind to wander on all the variety of holds he could place Plato in to force him to tap out, Bane went down and stretched out with a forward lunge.

---

Off the coast of Skull Island, if one were to closely monitor the horizon, they might just make out the unassuming silhouette of the GNS Achimota. Once the pride and joy and the Ghanaian Navy, the former 'flagship' now served a different, darker purpose: ferrying Black Manta, pirate lord of Somalia, to a volcanic island forgotten by man. The accomodations were decidedly spartan, especially when compared to his newly acquired yacht, but Black Manta wasn't the sort to sacrifice utility for convenience. The Achimota had a low profile, a respectable armament, and it was fast. As for the "Tiger's Den", it was slow, garish, and carried an inescapable scent that one could never quite place.

Were it not for the vessel's questionable legality, I'd have fenced the abomination already.

["Boss Manta, sir, we're nearing the island. Landfall in twenty."]

Having been embroiled in his thoughts, Black Manta hadn't even noticed the island prior to his crewman's remark. It was about what he'd expected, going off of previous dealings with the Death Syndicate, both as 'Professor Carver' and Black Manta proper. 'Lord Death Man' had a penchant for theatrics, and while it was leagues away from Black Manta's modus operandi, he could still respect it. The yakuza's creative spark could be of great benefit to his interests; Black Manta's interests, unsurprisingly, chiefly consisted of violently ending the life of King Orin. But who says you can't be creative, even in acts of merciless brutality?

Be that as it may, before Black Manta could indulge in his second-favourite pastime, he would have to prepare his men for their impending arrival at Skull Island. His aptitude as a leader of men remained somewhat unpolished, and while his penchant for silence served well enough when he needed to intimidate them, it was decidedly less suitable for commanding them.

["Good, call the others above-deck. You and Bashiir will go with me; the others will watch the Achimota. If there's any trouble, they will give the usual signal."]

["Anything else, Boss Manta?"]

["Our patron is not one of the milqetoast arms-dealers your late captain was so fond of, and is to be treated with repect. Step out of line, you lose a hand."]

["Of course."]

With that, the crewman descended below deck, once again leaving Black Manta to stew in his thoughts. Barring the occasional fleeting scheme against Aquaman, however, there wasn't overly much to think about. All that was really left to do was to simply wait for the boat to reach its destination.

---

"So" Bane started on switched position as he laid down on the sands and began to do some crunches. "Black Manta wouldn't have any trouble working with any, well I'll just call it, exercise equipment yes?"

"...Well, I suppose not, but remember, he's supposed to be here on business. And his scientific knowledge tends to be focused towards murdering fishmen."

A smaller boat pulled up to the dock, a grey wolf hopping out, along with a man in a pinstripe suit holding a suitcase. Death man held out his arms in welcome.

"Wolf Carson! It's been a dog's age! Oh, Bane, this is Wolfgang Carson, the Mad Dog of Minnesota. He escaped the electric chair by having his brain transplanted into an endangered Gray Wolf, meaning it was illegal to kill him."

The wolf snarled and growled a little as it headed up a path, lead along by one of Lord Death Man's henchmen, the man in the pinstripe suit following.

Bane eagerly arose from his routine of crunches, when Lord Death Man spoke of new guests. Bane was especially moved into reaction hearing about a man who was a wolf as such he waved many times towards the wolf, "Hola Senor Carson, how is it being a wolf?"

The wolf sat down on the path for a moment, looking pensive as he scratched behind and ear before barking and whining a couple of times at Death Man.

"He has this awful habit of humping furniture and howling, but he's still one of the most experienced crimelords in the Midwest."

"Then he must have much to teach." Bane nodded as he began stretching his right wrist. He turned to face Wolf Carson as if to study the crimelord for any subtle lessons. All he would find, however, was the canine crimelord dragging his butt through the dirt on the way up the path to an old plantation mansion.

"Indeed. I'm trying to bring as many old hands as newcomers to the crime scene as I can. With a particular bent for... unusual individuals. Pity Mr. Nobody was busy with that art exhibit..."

"I see, so that is what you are saying Carson...It is like streaks in the sands of time. Is that it?" Bane sagely spoke to himself trying to decipher some meaning in the actions of the canine crimelord. He shook his head before glancing towards Lord Death Man, "Is that his name or is he unimportant?"

"To hear Mr. Nobody tell it, it's his name because he's unimportant. He's... artsy."

"Artsy huh? IF I SEE HIM, HE WILL DISCUSS THE FINER POINTS OF CERAMIC SCULPTING OF THE AZTEC EMPIRE WITH ME OR ELSE I WILL INTRODUCE HIM TO MY INTERPRETATION OF A POLLACK!" Bane began squeezing his right palm in and out quickly before bringing his left hand to join as he wrung his hands for a few moments before suddenly stopping, "Well, assuming he makes a good conversation partner, I'll discuss that alongside other pieces. I will accept discussions of the other Nahaus as a starting point."

"Yes, I suppose... ah, there's Zigomar's helicopter, he'll be heading for the helipad." Death Man once again took up the telescope, looking out to the sea. "...Ah. Yes, that ship will be Manta. Seems the reports from my contacts in Africa were true."

"How many more guests do you think will show if I may inquire Lord Death Man?"

"Well, accounting for those who can't make it, those that have expressed interest total up to one hundred and eight members. Now, they're not all old hands like Wolf, Snake, and I, but they're at least established as criminals- bizarre or otherwise."

"Snake? Snake? Snaaake?! Is he also like Wolf!?! A man made into a snake or many snakes since many snakes are small!? And it is good to know these other members have established themselves as bizarre. Truly again I must say there will be much to learn."

"No, no, King Snake is an old acquaintance. He's quite human. We fought over Beijing and Shanghai for a while, but came to an understanding eventually. I'm unkillable, and his kung-fu is better than that of my hitmen."

"I see. I will enjoy seeing The King Snake." Bane stated with a nod as Lord Death Man stood up, a goofy-looking bird squawking as it ran by.

"We'll head back up to the fort in a bit. I'm not sure if Luthor will be stopping in, but it should be enough even without him."

"I'm sure we will do business with him later. He seemed like a perfectly reasonable fellow. You still have his card?"

"Yes, and he has one of mine. I always keep a few on hand."

---

Trailing only slightly behind the other invitees, the Achimota finally docked at Skull Island, just as the predicted twenty minutes elapsed. Not one to waste time, Black Manta moved to disembark post-haste, motioning for his selected crewmembers to fall into step.

["Boss Manta, the animals on this island, aren't they supposed to be extinct?"]

["Yes,"] Black Manta responded, ["they are also under the protection of our patron."]

["But just imagine how mu-"]

["We don't steal from our clients, Bashiir. When we begin our war against Atlantis in earnest, there will be an abundance of beasts for us to poach."]

With that, Bashiir raised no further complaint, content to imagine the possibility of hunting something no man had ever encountered, let alone caught. As for Black Manta, he moved to approach the man in the skeleton-themed outfit, figuring him to be Lord Death Man. Despite never having met the man in person, Black Manta recognized the outfit from the oft-televised escapades of the famed 'phantom thief'.

"Manta! Good to see you in person. I heard about you offing Tiger Shark, figured I'd let you in on something I'm planning as thanks."

"Likewise, Lord Death Man. Though, and I feel obliged to ask, how might this plan of yours pertain to my interests? I desire the head of King Orin on a spike, gilded trinkets and fame are of secondary importance."

Death Man sighed. He'd expected this from the single-minded pirate king. He'd have to walk Manta through this if he wanted his scientific expertise.

"Well, Manta, I am inviting you to join in a criminal enterprise. This will allow you to harass King Orin in numerous ways."

"Elaborate."

"Crime is used to acquire money, which can be exchanged for goods and services. Goods and services can be used to inconvenience Atlantis."

"Splendid. I'm in."

"Excellent! Ah, this is Bane, Senketsu Joe's new tag partner, and one of my enforcers. I trust we'll be working together in the future."

Bane did not utter a word, no he would simply allow his body language to speak for himself here. He kept a professional stance, his arms extended slightly out ready for action and his legs shoulderwidth apart. And with that he gave a simple nod towards Black Manta, then quickly turning his gaze towards Black Manta's pirates, observing them for any "interesting responses".

However the silent response would be shortlived, after all, Bane had things to discuss with this Manta. Before that though he turned his head towards Lord Death Man, "When that day comes I will not disappoint you." With that said his attention turned towards Black Manta, "I will to speak to you at a later time about a subject most important. But before then, answer me this..."

"...Plato lives in Atlantis right?! DO NOT TELL ME PLATO MOVED AWAY BEFORE I COULD EVEN PAY HIM A VISIT AND MAKE HIM TAP OUT!"

"Certainly. As for Plato, I can't say for certain. Atlantis holds many things forgotten by man, however, and he could be one of them."

"Hhrm. A definitive answer would have been nice, but, HE IS SURELY THERE! And when I get my hands on Plato, I will throw him off the Dolphin he is using to race against Socrates and, what was his name, Tupac..."

"I'll see to it that my crew leave them to you, should we encounter them. It is good to see someone willing to hunt a foe with such zeal. I look forward to working with you, Bane."

"As do I." Behind the mask there was a huge grin as Bane began rubbing his hands together, "...Sooner or later Plato, you too Socrates and I definitely have not forgotten you Tupac. Each and everyone one of you will tap..."

Lord Death Man nodded and motioned to a stately mansion farther inland with his cane. "Well then, there's refreshments and accomodations for all up at the old manor. I'll be making the announcement in the banquet hall once all our guests arrive around lunch time."

With that, he started up the path to the manor, a trail beaten down by regular passage over the decades. From within the jungle, strange calls and vocalizations could be heard... none of which bothered Lord Death Man.

"If you want a translation, those cries come in two flavors- 'Do Me' or 'Stay off My Land.'"

Heroes Reborn - A DCAU Roleplay (Always open!)

October 28th
Queens, NY, United States

It wasn't long before a roach-headed young man in a nice suit would drag the man who assaulted the woman into a dark alley. Say what you will about their fashion sense, but the Death Syndicate was keeping Manhattan and Harlem's street crime down. The retribution for drug sales, child abuse, and damage to the property of the people (as long as their protection was paid up) was swift and brutal. It was the Yakuza way, as Death Man saw it- they keep the streets clean, they protect those the officials won't, and in return they get money and respect.

In fact, it was thanks to the remarkable efficiency of these criminals that most of New York didn't even realize the zombie epidemic that plagued America was still going. After the police started to panic while failing to maintain civil order, the Yakuza stepped forward. A few of the enforcers were doing regular patrols, making short work of anything coming out of hospitals, graveyards, butcher's shops, secret underground snuff film sets... all the typical things you find in New York City. Of course, there was also a hotline. It was a pretty simple setup. People called them. They showed up. They beat the shit out of zombies, hacked them to pieces, incinerated, melted, or whatever metahuman abilities were on hand. Once the zombie was cut up or incapacitated, it would be tossed into one of several woodchippers. The chunks twitched now and again, but they weren't doing anything on the way to the incinerator. Brutal and efficient.

As he started feeding the mugger's limbs into the woodchipper, Greg Samson, the Roach-Boy of Brooklyn, couldn't help but think Death Man would be proud.