GreenGrenade

Titans: West Coast. (Teen Titans Roleplay)

I mean, hey, sure. Looks neat.

Crestwood Hollow - A Superhuman RP

Avengers: Heroes United! - a semi-casual 'Tabletop-Lite' superhero RPG

Might throw my bag in the hat.

[Reboot] Ｔｅｒｒａ ＿ ｒ：Ｅｖｏｌｕｔｉｏｎ

^{[ “You’re under arrest.” ]}

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎:

Augustus Heraclitus Coburn

𝙰𝚐𝚎:

27

𝚂𝚎𝚡:

Male

𝙰𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗:

The Europa Policing Authority

𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎:

Coburn has the sort of average good looks that don’t afford him much attention. Brown hair, brown eyes, and short stubble, adorning a face that doesn’t have anything particularly remarkable about it besides a slightly crooked nose, a permanent mark from when his parents’ repair store was robbed by human purist. Standing at 6 feet, he’s relatively fit, his muscles well-formed but ill-defined, covered by a layer of fat that indicates an irregular exercise pattern. A tattoo of a spider runs from his right shoulder down the length of his bicep, typically covered by his coat and so abiding by the EPA’s dress code.

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢:

A usually quiet man, Coburn tends to sit back and let his surroundings do the talking; observant by nature, he takes every opportunity to analyse in his silence, a habit he picked up during the many boring days and nights spent observing the patrons of his parents’ store. His worldview is one that many would consider naïve – while he’s not necessarily optimistic, he believes in justice and the inherent goodness of people – that, if presented with a problem, they’d at least endeavour to do the right thing. He’ll speak openly of and defend his beliefs when he feels it’s necessary, remaining purposefully ignorant of the reality of agendas and self-preservation – and that stubbornness carries over into everything else. He’ll work on a case until it’s done, even when told to drop it. No hunch goes unfollowed. This will occasionally see him clashing with his superiors, as disobeying orders and sticking strongly to his beliefs tend not to mesh well with the bureaucracy of police work.

ANALYTICAL • NAIVE • OUTSPOKEN • STUBBORN

𝙱𝚒𝚘:

Augustus Heraclitus Coburn grew up hearing much of his family’s once great wealth. His name, Dad would tell him, was his only link to it, the one thing that he had left of the Coburn family’s prestige. Mum, on the other hand, would tell him that she was just a big fan of Ancient Greco-Roman history, and that his dad liked to hold onto a past better left in the mid-twenty first century – the days when great-great-grandad Tyrell Warren owned a multi-million pound cybernetics corporation whose greatest achievement was the big Bionic Materials Scandal of ’74, after which any wealth the Warren/Coburn clan held went by the way of bankruptcy. She’d explain that Dad felt bitter about being made to live in Europa’s DST-12-EAST when luxury had been within his family’s grasp just a few generations ago; running a cybernetics repair store was practically slave labour compared to running what could have been one of Terra’s leading corporations by now. And while Augustus wanted to relate to his father by mirroring his frustration, as kids do, he couldn’t really complain. He enjoyed working in the store, learning the ins and outs of different augmentations, and the colourful personalities that made up the district were an interesting (if dangerous) bunch. His childhood was a good one, made better not because his parents shielded him from hardship, but because it was always there, just another part of his life that he accepted and learned to live with.

His parents both passed away early into his adult years, his mother from heart failure, his father from… grief. Seeking purpose, Coburn drifted from job to job, never really finding anything that stuck. It was then that he found a “home” in a small apartment at the same district he grew up in, sharing rent with another drifter named Django Ellis. Eventually the drifting stopped, and Coburn found work with the Europa Policing Authority. Finding his calling, he worked hard to get to where he is, making detective after years of diligent labour on the beat. Partnered with Vincent DeSilvio, he’s been on the job for just over seven months now.

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝:

DST-12-EAST

𝚆𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗(𝚜):

» Standard issue EPA handgun

» Standard issue EPA Taser; tends to short-circuit most cybernetics

» Riot baton with a switchable electrified setting for dealing with heavily augmented persons, standard issue

𝙰𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚛:

» EPA issue bulletproof vest: a thin vest that at first seems too thin to actually stop anything. The vest is made of self-hardening carbon nanotubes that tighten upon high impact. Light and more reliable than old issue kevlar vests, there have been complaints on how uncomfortable the vest gets when it "hardens". The vest also does little to protect against slashes; only hardening to direct stabs: another complaint about the vest.

𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜:

While Coburn spent much of his time around augments as he grew up, he was never one to think about getting any. The cybernetics he does have were installed in order to make his job easier, and are all approved under the EPA’s by-laws.

» EUROHACK™

A hacking augment, approved by EPA by-laws and developed by its eponymous megacorporation. Embedded onto Coburn’s left forearm, it can establish a connection with almost any piece of computerised tech, containing a series of programs and executables that streamline the hacking process significantly, while also retaining the option of manual coding. Obtainable only through the EPA and the EDF, the EuroHack™ automatically sends out requests for and receives warrants upon its use – a formality more than anything. EuroCorp’s word is law.

» DETECTIVISION™

The aptly named DetectiVision™, developed and manufactured by EuroCorp, is an evidence detecting system contained in a chip embedded at the base of Coburn’s neck. It tracks, points out and files away evidence into Coburn’s personal database via video, still images and audio, and manifests itself through an optical display projected over his retinas. It can also pick up on body language, helping inform Coburn whether someone’s lying, and is connected to the EPA’s EuroNet database, able to display information such as arrest records and send out an APB on the fly. It’s controlled via a small detachable wristpad.

𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎:

Enough to pay for two apartments' worth of rent and to buy every cold, black drop of Django's deadbeat soul.

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛:

» Coburn has a roommate, Django Ellis. Loud, vulgar and very poor, he came to live with Coburn years ago, and is the closest thing he has to a friend.

» Thanks to the time he spent working with his parents at their store, Coburn came to know the many models, types and brands of cybernetics intimately, able to recognise many at a glance.

» The future is now.

[Reboot] Ｔｅｒｒａ ＿ ｒ：Ｅｖｏｌｕｔｉｏｎ

Coburn's done. I was gonna wait for the District section, but edits are easy.
_{@SmileyJaws@Briza}

[Reboot] Ｔｅｒｒａ ＿ ｒ：Ｅｖｏｌｕｔｉｏｎ

Still No longer a WIP, but his partner's up, and partners stick together.

Coburn

^{[ “You’re under arrest.” ]}

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎:

Augustus Heraclitus Coburn

𝙰𝚐𝚎:

27

𝚂𝚎𝚡:

Male

𝙰𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗:

The Europa Policing Authority

𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎:

Coburn has the sort of average good looks that don’t afford him much attention. Brown hair, brown eyes, and short stubble, adorning a face that doesn’t have anything particularly remarkable about it besides a slightly crooked nose, a permanent mark from when his parents’ repair store was robbed by human purist. Standing at 6 feet, he’s relatively fit, his muscles well-formed but ill-defined, covered by a layer of fat that indicates an irregular exercise pattern. A tattoo of a spider runs from his right shoulder down the length of his bicep, typically covered by his coat and so abiding by the EPA’s dress code.

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢:

A usually quiet man, Coburn tends to sit back and let his surroundings do the talking; observant by nature, he takes every opportunity to analyse in his silence, a habit he picked up during the many boring days and nights spent observing the patrons of his parents’ store. His worldview is one that many would consider naïve – while he’s not necessarily optimistic, he believes in justice and the inherent goodness of people – that, if presented with a problem, they’d at least endeavour to do the right thing. He’ll speak openly of and defend his beliefs when he feels it’s necessary, remaining purposefully ignorant of the reality of agendas and self-preservation – and that stubbornness carries over into everything else. He’ll work on a case until it’s done, even when told to drop it. No hunch goes unfollowed. This will occasionally see him clashing with his superiors, as disobeying orders and sticking strongly to his beliefs tend not to mesh well with the bureaucracy of police work.

ANALYTICAL • NAIVE • OUTSPOKEN • STUBBORN

𝙱𝚒𝚘:

Augustus Heraclitus Coburn grew up hearing much of his family’s once great wealth. His name, Dad would tell him, was his only link to it, the one thing that he had left of the Coburn family’s prestige. Mum, on the other hand, would tell him that she was just a big fan of Ancient Greco-Roman history, and that his dad liked to hold onto a past better left in the mid-twenty first century – the days when great-great-grandad Tyrell Warren owned a multi-million pound cybernetics corporation whose greatest achievement was the big Bionic Materials Scandal of ’74, after which any wealth the Warren/Coburn clan held went by the way of bankruptcy. She’d explain that Dad felt bitter about being made to live in Europa’s DST-12-EAST when luxury had been within his family’s grasp just a few generations ago; running a cybernetics repair store was practically slave labour compared to running what could have been one of Terra’s leading corporations by now. And while Augustus wanted to relate to his father by mirroring his frustration, as kids do, he couldn’t really complain. He enjoyed working in the store, learning the ins and outs of different augmentations, and the colourful personalities that made up the district were an interesting (if dangerous) bunch. His childhood was a good one, made better not because his parents shielded him from hardship, but because it was always there, just another part of his life that he accepted and learned to live with.

His parents both passed away early into his adult years, his mother from heart failure, his father from… grief. Seeking purpose, Coburn drifted from job to job, never really finding anything that stuck. It was then that he found a “home” in a small apartment at the same district he grew up in, sharing rent with another drifter named Django Ellis. Eventually the drifting stopped, and Coburn found work with the Europa Policing Authority. Finding his calling, he worked hard to get to where he is, making detective after years of diligent labour on the beat. Partnered with Vincent DeSilvio, he’s been on the job for just over seven months now.

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝:

DST-12-EAST

𝚆𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗(𝚜):

» Standard issue EPA handgun

» Standard issue EPA Taser; tends to short-circuit most cybernetics

» Riot baton with a switchable electrified setting for dealing with heavily augmented persons, standard issue

𝙰𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚛:

» EPA issue bulletproof vest: a thin vest that at first seems too thin to actually stop anything. The vest is made of self-hardening carbon nanotubes that tighten upon high impact. Light and more reliable than old issue kevlar vests, there have been complaints on how uncomfortable the vest gets when it "hardens". The vest also does little to protect against slashes; only hardening to direct stabs: another complaint about the vest.

𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜:

While Coburn spent much of his time around augments as he grew up, he was never one to think about getting any. The cybernetics he does have were installed in order to make his job easier, and are all approved under the EPA’s by-laws.

» EUROHACK™

A hacking augment, approved by EPA by-laws and developed by its eponymous megacorporation. Embedded onto Coburn’s left forearm, it can establish a connection with almost any piece of computerised tech, containing a series of programs and executables that streamline the hacking process significantly, while also retaining the option of manual coding. Obtainable only through the EPA and the EDF, the EuroHack™ automatically sends out requests for and receives warrants upon its use – a formality more than anything. EuroCorp’s word is law.

» DETECTIVISION™

The aptly named DetectiVision™, developed and manufactured by EuroCorp, is an evidence detecting system contained in a chip embedded at the base of Coburn’s neck. It tracks, points out and files away evidence into Coburn’s personal database via video, still images and audio, and manifests itself through an optical display projected over his retinas. It can also pick up on body language, helping inform Coburn whether someone’s lying, and is connected to the EPA’s EuroNet database, able to display information such as arrest records and send out an APB on the fly. It’s controlled via a small detachable wristpad.

𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎:

Enough to pay for two apartments' worth of rent and to buy every cold, black drop of Django's deadbeat soul.

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛:

» Coburn has a roommate, Django Ellis. Loud, vulgar and very poor, he came to live with Coburn years ago, and is the closest thing he has to a friend.

» Thanks to the time he spent working with his parents at their store, Coburn came to know the many models, types and brands of cybernetics intimately, able to recognise many at a glance.

» The future is now.

[Reboot]Ｔｅｒｒａ ＿ ｒ：Ｅｖｏｌｕｔｉｏｎ[Cyberpunk]

Figured I'd post a WIP to give peeps a better idea of my concept.

[+]

^{[ “You’re under arrest.” ]}

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎:

Augustus Heraclitus Coburn

𝙰𝚐𝚎:

27

𝚂𝚎𝚡:

Male

𝙰𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗:

The Europa Policing Authority

𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎:

Coburn has the sort of average good looks that don’t afford him much attention. Brown hair, brown eyes, and short stubble, adorning a face that doesn’t have anything particularly remarkable about it besides a slightly crooked nose, a permanent mark from when his parents’ repair store was robbed by human purist. He’s relatively fit, his muscles well-formed but ill-defined, covered by a layer of fat that indicates an irregular exercise pattern. A tattoo of a spider runs from his right shoulder down the length of his bicep, typically covered by his coat and so abiding by the EPA’s dress code.

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢:

A usually quiet man, Coburn tends to sit back and let his surroundings do the talking; observant by nature, he takes every opportunity to analyse in his silence, a habit he picked up during the many boring days and nights spent observing the patrons of his parents’ store. His worldview is one that many would consider naïve – while he’s not necessarily optimistic, he believes in justice and the inherent goodness of people – that, if presented with a problem, they’d at least endeavour to do the right thing. He’ll speak openly of and defend his beliefs when he feels it’s necessary, remaining purposefully ignorant of the reality of agendas and self-preservation – and that stubbornness carries over into everything else. He’ll work on a case until it’s done, even when told to drop it. No hunch goes unfollowed. This will occasionally see him clashing with his superiors, as disobeying orders and sticking strongly to his beliefs tend not to mesh well with the bureaucracy of police work.

ANALYTICAL • NAIVE • OUTSPOKEN • STUBBORN

𝙱𝚒𝚘:

Augustus Heraclitus Coburn grew up hearing much of his family’s once great wealth. His name, Dad would tell him, was his only link to it, the one thing that he had left of the Coburn family’s prestige. Mum, on the other hand, would tell him that she was just a big fan of Ancient Greco-Roman history, and that his dad liked to hold onto a past better left in the mid-twenty first century – the days when great-great-grandad Tyrell Warren owned a multi-million pound cybernetics corporation whose greatest achievement was the big Bionic Materials Scandal of ’74, after which any wealth the Warren/Coburn clan held went by the way of bankruptcy. She’d explain that Dad felt bitter about being made to live in Europa’s ___th District when luxury had been within his family’s grasp just a few generations ago; running a cybernetics repair store was practically slave labour compared to running what could have been one of Terra’s leading corporations by now. And while Augustus wanted to relate to his father by mirroring his frustration, as kids do, he couldn’t really complain. He enjoyed working in the store, learning the ins and outs of different augmentations, and the colourful personalities that made up the district were an interesting (if dangerous) bunch. His childhood was a good one, made better not because his parents shielded him from hardship, but because it was always there, just another part of his life that he accepted and learned to live with.

His parents both passed away early into his adult years, his mother from heart failure, his father from… grief. Seeking purpose, Coburn drifted from job to job, never really finding anything that stuck. It was then that he found a “home” in a small apartment at the same district he grew up in, sharing rent with another drifter named Django Ellis. Eventually the drifting stopped, and Coburn found work with the Europa Policing Authority. Finding his calling, he worked hard to get to where he is, making detective after years of diligent labour on the beat. Partnered with Vincent DeSilvio, he’s been on the job for just over seven months now.

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝:

WHERE ARE YOU FROM?

𝚆𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗(𝚜):

» Standard issue EPA handgun

» Standard issue EPA Taser; tends to short-circuit most cybernetics

» MELEE WEAPON GOES HERE

𝙰𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚛:

» ARMOR GOES HERE - WRITTEN DESCRIPTION COMPULSORY - PICTURE IS OPTIONAL

𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜:

While Coburn spent much of his time around augments as he grew up, he was never one to think about getting any. The cybernetics he does have were installed in order to make his job easier, and are all approved under the EPA’s by-laws.

» FIRST AUGMENTATION TYPE

Dataport/hacking augment, approved by EPA by-laws.

» SECOND AUGMENTATION TYPE

Evidence detecting system contained in a chip embedded at the base of Coburn’s neck. It tracks, points out and files away evidence into Coburn’s personal database via video, still images and audio, and manifests itself through an optical display projected over his retinas. It can also pick up on body language, helping inform Coburn whether someone’s lying, and is connected to the EPA’s EuroNet database, able to display information such as arrest records and send out an APB on the fly. It’s controlled via a small detachable wristpad.

» THIRD AUGMENTATION TYPE

DESCRIPTION THREE

𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎:

NET WORTH GOES HERE

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛:

» Coburn has a roommate, Django Ellis. Loud, vulgar and very poor, he came to live with Coburn years ago, and is the closest thing he has to a friend.

» Thanks to the time he spent working with his parents at their store, Coburn came to know the many models, types and brands of cybernetics intimately, able to recognise many at a glance.

[Reboot]Ｔｅｒｒａ ＿ ｒ：Ｅｖｏｌｕｔｉｏｎ[Cyberpunk]

I'm here and I'm disgustingly queer.

@Mara

no

[Reboot]Ｔｅｒｒａ ＿ ｒ：Ｅｖｏｌｕｔｉｏｎ[Cyberpunk]

Interested and h y p e d

Absolute Comics: Rebirth

LANTERN FALL

C H A P T E R O N E / / H A L J O R D A N

---

Rani Spaceport was a small space station carved into an asteroid in the Atria System, orbiting its red sun on the very edge of Sector 2814. Constructed some hundred years ago by a ragtag group of pirates, it was a popular hotspot for criminals and lowlifes, the tunnels that made it up filled with cheap bars, expensive brothels, underground casinos and black markets. Floating in neutral space, it was within the Green Lantern Corps’ jurisdiction, and as far as most places in the Sector went, it provided plenty of opportunity for arrests.

And plenty of information.

Hal Jordan walked through the dense crowds of the Hospitality District, noting, not for the first time, the irony in its name. People knocked into him without so much as a glance in his direction. One of them, a Karnan, let out a throaty growl as they bumped shoulders, his feline features twisting into a snarl. All around, people eyed each other with open suspicion, weary glances moving from one person to the next. In a bar to Hal’s left an argument was brewing, about a dozen men rising to the barkeep’s side as a Krolotean yelled and made obscene gestures. An Insectivorid gestured to passers-by, persuading them to buy from a suspicious batch of what looked like Belamort-infused cakes.

Belamort was a psychotropic drug that enhanced its user’s senses. The natural herb, grown primarily by Kahloans, was okay in small doses. The synthetic version, however, messed with your synapses, and often led to brain damage; eighty-five percent of its addicts wound up dead, the remaining fifteen spending the rest of their lives as vegetables. It was also significantly cheaper. The chances that it was in those cakes was much higher than that of it being the “safer” variant.

Hal almost laughed. “Hospitality District.” Sure, the name might have referred to the food, drink and accommodation provided to the patrons here, but no one could really lie to themselves – there was nothing hospitable about it. Just a bunch of crooks, thugs and deadbeats trying to get one last drink in before they got stabbed in the back. Hal had half a mind to bring them all in, if only his ring had the capacity to do so.

According to his ring, there were about one and a half million people in this rock, which meant about one and a half million people who would either walk faster, run away, or start shooting at the sight of a Green Lantern. To avoid any trouble, he didn’t wear his uniform, only keeping his ring on for the life support, his hand tucked into his jacket pocket. As unlikely as it was, if the station got depressurised, he didn’t want the change in atmosphere to affect him. Experience taught him that, and it taught him well.

The cantina was wedged between two hotels, a squat metallic building of outdated Dhorian design, sharp edges and alloyed spurs giving it a less than welcoming appearance. A holographic sign above its entrance gave the cantina’s name in an alien script, a nondescript humanoid raising a glass in an animated loop. Hal entered, the artificial light of the tunnel outside dimming into near-darkness, pierced only by the weak glow of the orange bars that sat across the ceiling. Looking around the booths, Hal searched for his man; blonde hair, blue eyes, probably wearing a red jacket –

Got him.

He sat in the far corner of the room, a tall glass in his hand. They made eye contact. Hal nodded. Peter Quill waved back.

“Hal-friggin’-Jordan,” Quill said, grinning, as Hal sat down opposite him. A thick blue liquid sloshed around inside his glass, the pungent smell of alcohol burning Hal’s nostrils. “How’re you doing, man?”

“Peter-friggin’-Quill,” said Hal. “Not too bad. I was hoping you could help me out.”

Quill took a swig of his drink, his smile never leaving his face. “What else is new? Shoot.”

“A Solon freighter was boarded by pirates two cycles ago, just outside the Acrux system. They took anything of value they could find, then escaped into transluminal space. Left six crew members dead. A survivor caught a glimpse of their ship, says he saw the Crimson Star Mob’s insignia on it. As far as I can tell, the entire organisation’s gone underground. Knowing your experience with them, I’m wondering if you can help point me in the right direction.”

Hal found the freighter floating through the vacuum of space, its hull breached with what looked like high-payload explosives. The crew had managed to improvise an airlock to prevent depressurization, but the ring told Hal that they were losing air, and fast – the air recycler had been damaged in the blast. He’d needed to call in John and Guy to get the crew out safely, and for the next forty-eight hours he tried to chase down every lead he had on the Crimson Star Mob, to no avail. The gang was up in the wind.

So here he was, hoping that Peter Quill, the self-proclaimed “Star-Lord”, could help him cover some new ground. He and his crew had had numerous run-ins with the Crimson Stars, enough to make Hal hope for some sort of tangible info.

“Jeez,” said Quill, his smile fading. “I’m sorry, man. Can’t say that I know anything.”

Bummer. No cigar.

“I know a dude, though,” he continued, reclining backwards with his hands behind his head, “Does gun runs for them. I can see what he knows.”

“Mind giving me this gun runner’s name?”

Quill’s grin widened. “No can do. Sorry. Outlaw’s honour.”

Hal raised his eyebrows, a smile working its way onto his lips despite himself. “And what exactly are you up to these days? Guarding or ravaging?”

“A little bit of both. Trying to keep things interesting, y’know? Keeping Rocket from boredom’s like trying to download songs on a Walkman.”

Hal chuckled, shaking his head. “Right. Thanks, Pete. If you could follow up on that gun runner, I’d appreciate it.”

“You got it, dude.”

He stood, using the table to push himself up. “I’ll see you around, Star-Lord.”

“Catch you later, GL,” said Quill, giving him a thumbs up.

As if on cue, his ring came to life inside his jacket pocket, a bright green glow illuminating his arm.

ALERT: LANTERN 2814-1, REPORT TO OA IMMEDIATELY.

ALERT: LANTERN 2814-1, REPORT TO OA IMMEDIATELY.

ALERT: LANTERN 2814-1, REPORT TO OA IMMEDIATELY.

Hal sighed. That couldn’t be good. Taking his hand out of his pocket, Hal’s uniform engulfed his body, green burning bright around a black that chilled, a cacophony of hot and cold that still made his nerves dance after even ten years with the Corps. The cantina’s patrons seemed to collectively recoil as his emerald light filled the room, slack-jawed and angry-eyed, unable to believe that a Green Lantern was able to sneak into their fold.

“Don’t hold your breath. I’m not here for you,” he said to them, before flying out of the tunnels and away from Rani Spaceport. He willed his ring to trigger transluminal travel, and his vision began to blueshift as the stars stretched out behind him.