KabenSaal said
I have watched a new movie. So now I want to make a Yautja group,
A nation of Predators..
*Shiver*
And I thought the Metroids were scary. At least they're adorable when they suck the life outta ya..
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A nation of Predators..
*Shiver*
And I thought the Metroids were scary. At least they're adorable when they suck the life outta ya..
^ Lol. The truth behind it hurts a little.
And he'd feel it..It'd be like if someone touched him though. Or, possibly tickled him. Is Mason's skin tougher too? Or is it just his bones? And are their other differences to his physiology?
I need to know this stuff so I can pass it on to his arch enemies.
And he'd feel it..It'd be like if someone touched him though. Or, possibly tickled him. Is Mason's skin tougher too? Or is it just his bones? And are their other differences to his physiology?
I need to know this stuff so I can pass it on to his arch enemies.
Edited a new chunk of text in based on Metro's new post. 'Dat ninja posting. :P
John hadn't given too much thought to Pierrot and Firefly being in the alley without protection as he rushed after the ice villain. They can handle themselves. Fallout thought. How wrong he had been...
Fallout frowned as he watched the villain's reaction to his blast. That hadn't done the damage he needed it to. Of course, he couldn't expect the laser to do much besides make the icicle angry at such a low power setting. As the ice blast came at Fallout, the radioactive hero instinctively turned his thickest armor towards the blast, shielding the weakened armor on his shoulder. It wasn't likely the attack would land inside the gash, but it was better to be safe. If it did..Well, Fallout has already considered what would happen if such a thing occurred, and he did not wish to go to that realm of thinking right now. He needed to keep a level head, as he failed to do earlier. When the ice landed, Fallout heated the armor using his body's radiation so as to melt it, as Firefly had.
John watched as Orren moved in to engage the villain in close quarters. There wasn't much he could do, what with his ally standing in the way of another blast. So Fallout took this moment to increase the power to his laser, so that when he shot it would burn skin rather nicely. Fallout lifted his shooting arm, and tried to keep track of the ice villain as he danced with Orren. When Orren was struck, his cries had thrown Fallout off and caused him to miss his shot, the laser going wide and hitting the wall of a building. Fallout quickly adjusted himself and fired off a number of shots at the villain as he retreated into the alleyway, missing all of them. John cursed his inaccuracy as the wall of ice went up and blocked them off from giving chase. They had all been beaten by a single man.
With the battle over, Fallout could look at the gash properly. The knife and growing ice had done surprising damage to his armor, and almost succeeded in causing a breach. John gave a silent prayer that it hadn't, and made a mental note to speed up testing on a second suit of more durable armor. While John was busy checking himself over, he hadn't noticed that Orren had been helped to an ambulance or that the others were gathered around. The metal clad warrior moved towards them, slowly and carefully, so he wouldn't put any stress on the armor's integrity. Once John reached them, he began to piece together what they had already figured out through what they were saying. Or what they were motioning to, when it came to Oliver. Fallout listened to Collin's plan, and nodded his agreement. Although the joke about Chernobyl had stirred a small portion of Fallout's anger, he decided against saying anything about it. This was neither the time nor the place to fight against his own teammates, especially over something as trivial as a joke."Yes. I return to base and fix armor. Help Ichor also. I don't think it wise if I come fight the Ice-man until I get better suit." Banister spoke, slightly embarrassed by his momentary forgetfulness when it came to speaking the English language.
Once at the base, Fallout moved swiftly towards his room, giving the two new people a polite 'hello' before rushing past them. After going through the proper cleaning procedures, Fallout entered his room and took his suit off. John, outside of his suit, was a small, skinny man. His head was bald, and his eyes were a strange shade of red. He fixed the gash in his armor rather quickly, though he doubted he would be using it seeing little need to leave his room again until his MK II was finished. Banister took up his tools and moved towards a suit suspended in the air by metal restraints. John lowered the suit, and set to work finishing the last touches that the suit needed to physically operate. He would have to code the machine afterwards, which could take awhile if he wished to apply all the features he wanted. The suit itself appeared to look similar to the original, although it lacked the various Russian symbols upon it. Dominating the center of the is a Red 'fallout shelter' symbol, with his hero name, Fallout, painted also in red under it.
Fallout frowned as he watched the villain's reaction to his blast. That hadn't done the damage he needed it to. Of course, he couldn't expect the laser to do much besides make the icicle angry at such a low power setting. As the ice blast came at Fallout, the radioactive hero instinctively turned his thickest armor towards the blast, shielding the weakened armor on his shoulder. It wasn't likely the attack would land inside the gash, but it was better to be safe. If it did..Well, Fallout has already considered what would happen if such a thing occurred, and he did not wish to go to that realm of thinking right now. He needed to keep a level head, as he failed to do earlier. When the ice landed, Fallout heated the armor using his body's radiation so as to melt it, as Firefly had.
John watched as Orren moved in to engage the villain in close quarters. There wasn't much he could do, what with his ally standing in the way of another blast. So Fallout took this moment to increase the power to his laser, so that when he shot it would burn skin rather nicely. Fallout lifted his shooting arm, and tried to keep track of the ice villain as he danced with Orren. When Orren was struck, his cries had thrown Fallout off and caused him to miss his shot, the laser going wide and hitting the wall of a building. Fallout quickly adjusted himself and fired off a number of shots at the villain as he retreated into the alleyway, missing all of them. John cursed his inaccuracy as the wall of ice went up and blocked them off from giving chase. They had all been beaten by a single man.
With the battle over, Fallout could look at the gash properly. The knife and growing ice had done surprising damage to his armor, and almost succeeded in causing a breach. John gave a silent prayer that it hadn't, and made a mental note to speed up testing on a second suit of more durable armor. While John was busy checking himself over, he hadn't noticed that Orren had been helped to an ambulance or that the others were gathered around. The metal clad warrior moved towards them, slowly and carefully, so he wouldn't put any stress on the armor's integrity. Once John reached them, he began to piece together what they had already figured out through what they were saying. Or what they were motioning to, when it came to Oliver. Fallout listened to Collin's plan, and nodded his agreement. Although the joke about Chernobyl had stirred a small portion of Fallout's anger, he decided against saying anything about it. This was neither the time nor the place to fight against his own teammates, especially over something as trivial as a joke."Yes. I return to base and fix armor. Help Ichor also. I don't think it wise if I come fight the Ice-man until I get better suit." Banister spoke, slightly embarrassed by his momentary forgetfulness when it came to speaking the English language.
Once at the base, Fallout moved swiftly towards his room, giving the two new people a polite 'hello' before rushing past them. After going through the proper cleaning procedures, Fallout entered his room and took his suit off. John, outside of his suit, was a small, skinny man. His head was bald, and his eyes were a strange shade of red. He fixed the gash in his armor rather quickly, though he doubted he would be using it seeing little need to leave his room again until his MK II was finished. Banister took up his tools and moved towards a suit suspended in the air by metal restraints. John lowered the suit, and set to work finishing the last touches that the suit needed to physically operate. He would have to code the machine afterwards, which could take awhile if he wished to apply all the features he wanted. The suit itself appeared to look similar to the original, although it lacked the various Russian symbols upon it. Dominating the center of the is a Red 'fallout shelter' symbol, with his hero name, Fallout, painted also in red under it.
Wrist would break?
Perhaps. Although one punch to Superman's chest usually doesn't break a wrist. It takes two or three. :P
Well..Most people who punch Superman aren't children though..Hrm..I'unno. It probably would break his wrist, now that I think about it. Unless it wasn't a full on "I'm-trying-to-knock-you-out" punch, as Demon said. Then his hand would just hurt like hell. xD
Perhaps. Although one punch to Superman's chest usually doesn't break a wrist. It takes two or three. :P
Well..Most people who punch Superman aren't children though..Hrm..I'unno. It probably would break his wrist, now that I think about it. Unless it wasn't a full on "I'm-trying-to-knock-you-out" punch, as Demon said. Then his hand would just hurt like hell. xD
Ghost turned towards Hector as he began to address him. Ghost pushed himself off the counter and walked over to Hector's computer. He examined the map, trying to memorize every nook and cranny of it so he wouldn't get lost. Ghost glanced over at Whisper and smirked at his joking, before returning his eyes back to the laptop. Eventually, Ghost nodded."Thanks." He patted Hector on the shoulder, before jogging out of the room, careful to avoid running into anyone, especially the werewolf-boy. He wasn't particularly pleased with the idea of knocking the guy over and sending him into a frenzy. Ghost left the kitchen, and began to move at a faster pace towards the bathroom. It took him around a minute and a half to get inside and strip down out of his costume. Rick put on a lukewarm temperature shower, and cleaned himself for around seven minutes or so. After drying off, Ghost retrieved his costume and put it back on. He considered changing into the civilian clothes he had arrived in, but decided against it. Rick enjoyed wearing the Ghost suit more than he did normal clothes.
When Ghost finally returned to the kitchen, he found the room was empty. He figured that the others must have gone to debrief Batman. Ghost closed his eyes and brought up a mental picture of the map Hector had shown him. The hero turned and went down the passage he believed led to the conference room after consulting his memory. Ghost walked into the conference room just in time to catch the last part of Samuel's speech. Rick moved towards an empty chair and sat himself in it, deciding to shrug off whatever situation had occurred without him. The rest of the team could handle the debriefing and whatever incident Mason had caused on their own. However, Rick purposely avoided eye contact with Batman. His occasional teacher wouldn't be happy he'd arrived late to the debriefing, that was certain in Rick's eyes.
When Ghost finally returned to the kitchen, he found the room was empty. He figured that the others must have gone to debrief Batman. Ghost closed his eyes and brought up a mental picture of the map Hector had shown him. The hero turned and went down the passage he believed led to the conference room after consulting his memory. Ghost walked into the conference room just in time to catch the last part of Samuel's speech. Rick moved towards an empty chair and sat himself in it, deciding to shrug off whatever situation had occurred without him. The rest of the team could handle the debriefing and whatever incident Mason had caused on their own. However, Rick purposely avoided eye contact with Batman. His occasional teacher wouldn't be happy he'd arrived late to the debriefing, that was certain in Rick's eyes.
He'd only been in town for a few days, but Santiago had already gotten far too used to the constant smell of marijuana and death.
They called this place Justice. A name so ironic that every single time Santiago thought about it, he had to smile. He'd lived in the jungles of Columbia and the war-torn streets of Bogota. He'd taken the lives of soldiers and civilians alike. The things he had done in the past would cause most people to vomit just hearing about it. But Justice was a new kind of Hell. It baffled Santiago to no end that innocent people still lived in a place like this. They had to either be incredibly stupid or completely insane to want their children to grow up in a hell hole like Justice. Santiago mentally shrugged. It wasn't his problem if these people wanted to get caught in the crossfire in the constant violence between crime syndicates and the police.
"Sir?" One of Santiago's subordinates spoke, and brought the man back to reality.
In front of Santiago were five teenagers, all bound by chains. They were all in various states of injury. The worst of them had one of his eyes jabbed out, while the only one of the five under eighteen was unscathed."Where were we? Ah, right." Santiago punched one of his prisoner's in the nose, sending them sprawling onto the ground. Two men wearing Woodland pattern Battle Dress Uniforms came up behind the boy and forced him back on his knees, despite his protests."You little vendejos were selling on my boss's turf!" Santiago shouted, tossing a bag filled with their less-than-legal wares right in front of them."This is the second time we caught you chuchas sneaking around here, too! What? Was killing two of you not enough?"
The five on the ground stayed quiet."Answer me when I ask you a question!" One of Santiago's goons slammed the butt of her assault rifle in the back of their leader, the oldest's, head."Suck my dick.." The man said, spitting on Santiago's boots."I'll take that as a no." Santiago kicked the man's stomach, before walking slowly down the line of intruders."I am not a heartless man." Santiago began, his accent easily noticeable as usual."So..So you'll let us go?" Santiago spun around the struck the youngest, who had been the one to speak."Don't interrupt me!" With a cough, he composed himself again."As I was saying..I am not a heartless man. I am not so cold as to leave no warning of what awaits anyone as stupid as you five to come into this part of town and start trying to take the boss's business." A small, vicious grin crossed Santiago's face."You five will be that warning." Santiago snapped his fingers, and his six identically dressed subordinates drew knives, and stabbed the boys to death.
The five bodies were dragged out of the alleyway. One of them was hung with a rope by the throat on a light post, while the other four were piled around it."Now, everyone get changed. We're going to Garfield's Bar." While Santiago didn't really enjoy drinking, his team did. Everyone returned to their various humble abodes to prepare themselves, and Santiago was given some time to himself as he walked home. The whole way, he was silently hoping that the bosses would have something else for him to do, so he could skip out on a boring night getting drunk.
They called this place Justice. A name so ironic that every single time Santiago thought about it, he had to smile. He'd lived in the jungles of Columbia and the war-torn streets of Bogota. He'd taken the lives of soldiers and civilians alike. The things he had done in the past would cause most people to vomit just hearing about it. But Justice was a new kind of Hell. It baffled Santiago to no end that innocent people still lived in a place like this. They had to either be incredibly stupid or completely insane to want their children to grow up in a hell hole like Justice. Santiago mentally shrugged. It wasn't his problem if these people wanted to get caught in the crossfire in the constant violence between crime syndicates and the police.
"Sir?" One of Santiago's subordinates spoke, and brought the man back to reality.
In front of Santiago were five teenagers, all bound by chains. They were all in various states of injury. The worst of them had one of his eyes jabbed out, while the only one of the five under eighteen was unscathed."Where were we? Ah, right." Santiago punched one of his prisoner's in the nose, sending them sprawling onto the ground. Two men wearing Woodland pattern Battle Dress Uniforms came up behind the boy and forced him back on his knees, despite his protests."You little vendejos were selling on my boss's turf!" Santiago shouted, tossing a bag filled with their less-than-legal wares right in front of them."This is the second time we caught you chuchas sneaking around here, too! What? Was killing two of you not enough?"
The five on the ground stayed quiet."Answer me when I ask you a question!" One of Santiago's goons slammed the butt of her assault rifle in the back of their leader, the oldest's, head."Suck my dick.." The man said, spitting on Santiago's boots."I'll take that as a no." Santiago kicked the man's stomach, before walking slowly down the line of intruders."I am not a heartless man." Santiago began, his accent easily noticeable as usual."So..So you'll let us go?" Santiago spun around the struck the youngest, who had been the one to speak."Don't interrupt me!" With a cough, he composed himself again."As I was saying..I am not a heartless man. I am not so cold as to leave no warning of what awaits anyone as stupid as you five to come into this part of town and start trying to take the boss's business." A small, vicious grin crossed Santiago's face."You five will be that warning." Santiago snapped his fingers, and his six identically dressed subordinates drew knives, and stabbed the boys to death.
The five bodies were dragged out of the alleyway. One of them was hung with a rope by the throat on a light post, while the other four were piled around it."Now, everyone get changed. We're going to Garfield's Bar." While Santiago didn't really enjoy drinking, his team did. Everyone returned to their various humble abodes to prepare themselves, and Santiago was given some time to himself as he walked home. The whole way, he was silently hoping that the bosses would have something else for him to do, so he could skip out on a boring night getting drunk.
I feel ya, Fatal. We share the same boat..
What they said. >->
Ima go catch up on the IC, although I won't post until if we know if Stryder is going to stick around or not (Personally, I'd like him to.)
Ima go catch up on the IC, although I won't post until if we know if Stryder is going to stick around or not (Personally, I'd like him to.)
I have arrived, with science.
If Mason doesn't feel fear (Or much of it, anyway) he'd be defying his inner..wolf..y..ness..Lemme explain.
Organisms survive and thrive because of their survival instincts. Self preservation is a thing instilled in all (most) living things, by use of pain and fear. These instincts are what allow them to assess a threat, and develop a flight or fight response. That's when the adrenaline is pumped through their body, to give them added strength and heightened senses. So without fear, you would be:
A) Missing out on adrenaline boosts, as well as many of Mason's survival instincts as a human/werewolf/hybrid thingie.
B) Totally and completely oblivious to threats until they caused you pain. Perhaps even if they do cause pain. This would be especially dangerous when he's an out of control werewolf, because Wolf would basically bumble around and break stuff while totally unaware of any danger he might be in.
THEREFORE. It is my observation that fear is a good thing, and that it would be in your best interest to allow Mason to feel fear. Also, it begs the question: Why doesn't he feel fear? Is it an emotional thing, as in his conscious mind constantly keeps the fear at bay? (This would mean that he could still be affected by fear toxins and yellow lanterns, since they go to the sub conscious mind. This would also explain how he could steel himself against the bat glare.) Or does his mind physically not give off the stimuli for fear? (Which would have to be attributed to some strange mutation or disease in his brain.)
If Mason doesn't feel fear (Or much of it, anyway) he'd be defying his inner..wolf..y..ness..Lemme explain.
Organisms survive and thrive because of their survival instincts. Self preservation is a thing instilled in all (most) living things, by use of pain and fear. These instincts are what allow them to assess a threat, and develop a flight or fight response. That's when the adrenaline is pumped through their body, to give them added strength and heightened senses. So without fear, you would be:
A) Missing out on adrenaline boosts, as well as many of Mason's survival instincts as a human/werewolf/hybrid thingie.
B) Totally and completely oblivious to threats until they caused you pain. Perhaps even if they do cause pain. This would be especially dangerous when he's an out of control werewolf, because Wolf would basically bumble around and break stuff while totally unaware of any danger he might be in.
THEREFORE. It is my observation that fear is a good thing, and that it would be in your best interest to allow Mason to feel fear. Also, it begs the question: Why doesn't he feel fear? Is it an emotional thing, as in his conscious mind constantly keeps the fear at bay? (This would mean that he could still be affected by fear toxins and yellow lanterns, since they go to the sub conscious mind. This would also explain how he could steel himself against the bat glare.) Or does his mind physically not give off the stimuli for fear? (Which would have to be attributed to some strange mutation or disease in his brain.)
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