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    1. riurik 11 yrs ago

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That's 1:30 AM my time... I don't think I'll be up then. Sorry!
Wizard's of the Coast has a nice dice roller. I don't know of any custom character sheet or map generators.
Not for a couple days. I feel like we're missing some people. Have you seen Siren Song or Yog? Is drew going to get in on Deathstroke, or no?

Lucian said
Sheesh, where be the posts, people?

GreenGrenade said
I'm pretty sure riurik's working on a post, after that I think I'll do a post as well.

I'm working on one. If you want, we can collaborate in Titanpad.
Anyone want to chat on Titanpad?
No problem. Just PM me if you need another player. Have fun!
Hey, I know that you said this is full, but I was wondering if you could squeeze one more in. I was in the last post you made for this, and I was sad when it fizzled out. I have my CS written out, I just need to type it up (I can do that today). It's okay if you want to keep your numbers low, just let me know.
I'm sad about this. I was really looking forward to the story and writing Cyborg. Oh well. If you ever reboot this, let me know
Achi appeared out of the air, asking, “Are you the ones who seek justice?"
If it weren't for years of experience, Cyborg might have jumped. "I guess that would be us, as rag-tag as we are," Cyborg wheezed, glancing around at the others.
A new Flash and a new New Flash. I've had enough speedsters in my life already. A ghost girl, hopefully not as moody as Brand. A wizard from the looks of it (who else would wear that cloak?), and, is that––Lobo?! No, he lacks the insane fire in his eyes. Man, this is the saddest bunch I've ever met.[/i]

Achieng squared her shoulders, and stepped forward with purpose. "I am Achieng, of clan Chima." Bowing her head and crossing her arms over her chest, fingers spread, she saluted.

"Clan Chima? Well from the looks of it, you're not from around here," Cyborg said bluntly.

"If I must say, Elder... From the looks of it, neither are you." Her voice was even, but her orange eyes looked steadily at Cyborg. "I traveled a long ways through dangerous territory to be here. If I do not pass muster already, I will go."

Cyborg felt the wrinkles in his face draw back into a smirk. Elder? Well, at least she's respectful. But is she any good? "What sort of combat experience do you have? Or any of you?" Cyborg asked the group. "Brainiac is no two-bit thug. And now he owns the big Leaguers. Who is going toe-to-toe with them long enough to distract Brainiac? Even if we accomplish that, we have no idea where the ring is. Are we just going to wander around until it's found?"

Achi frowned very slightly, her eyes respectfully downcast. Years of mistreatment had tempered her into not showing her emotions unless she wanted to. "Begging your allowance, Elder, but... you asked us for help, did you not? To ask for all who can hold a blade, and then to discard those because they are not up to your muster?" Her gaze riveted up, and she stared right at Cyborg, meeting both mismatched eyes. "You cannot hope to fight a war by dismissing those with the passion to fight, if not the skill." Her steady look swept over the others, then to the would-be heroes that had come in around the same time. "We have answered the call, of our own accord. That should be enough, if you are in fact, losing."

Cyborg sighed. Perhaps I'm being too hard on them. It really has been awhile since I talked to people, instead of computers. "I didn't call up the Protocol, but, like you, I answered." His voice softened. "You're right, though. You are ready, and you are willing. All of you, from the looks of it. What more can we ask? If anybody is going to beat this tin can, it has to be us. You said your name was Achieng, right? I didn't see you when you first came in. Some sort of illusion or invisibility, I presume? Do you think that you could trick Brainiac with that? You could look for the ring ahead of time, save us from searching while the others are distracting."

"I do not know." Achieng murmured, her hand to her lips in a gesture of deep thought. "I am willing to learn, if we can find a being who matches the same mind of this Brainiac." Frowning, her hand shifted to her forehead, and she winced. "Er... before that, I confess to a long journey. Times are dire, but... is there water to spare?"

-Dizzy/Riurik-
I'm here. Want to Titanpad?
Phil surveyed the mix of ancient tomes and modern occult scholarship amassed on his desk. Idly, he thought about the fight a week ago in Central City. Man, Orbit is such a bad-ass. I wonder if she could teach me some of her moves. I still feel like such a klutz around the rest of these heroes. God, I heard Bast was pretty kick-ass too, and she doesn't even have powers. What am I doing with this thing?

Gazing at the Helm of Nabu brought his mind back to the present. A day after the fight, Zatanna had asked him to do some research for her. I thought it was strange when she asked. She hasn't even tried to contact me since she dropped me off at this new group. Frankly, I think Zatanna was relieved to get rid of me; she's not exactly the nurturing type. She gave me a couple artifacts to research, but doubtless she's after this enchanted blade. Doubly doubtless it's the same blade that gutted Aquaman. But she's didn't tell me that. "Just a little project to get your feet wet in the local occult culture," she claimed. Does she not trust me? I had to find out about Aquaman from the others. Ironic that Batman trusts his apprentices more than Zatanna trusts me.

Phil scowled at his reflection in the Helmet of Fate. This research is going no where. Just rumors and myths, like always. All I can find is what we already know: sharp as hell and made by Nabu. I wish I could just ask him about the sword, but I haven't heard from him since the day I put the Helm. Maybe if I--

Shots rang out, interrupting the thought. Instantly snatching up the Helm, Phil bolted out of his room, only to skid to a stop. The blast doors are down. This must be big. Good thing walls won't stop me. Phil called up the powers of Nabu, and was gone in a flash of light, instantly teleported across the headquarters. He hadn't thought of a specific place to teleport; he had learned to let Fate decide.

When the world came back into focus, Phil saw two familiar faces: Hellfire and Orbit. "Hey, wait up! What's going on?"
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