Supers Image game

[Quackhell]

I really love all these takes. Thanks for the excellent responses everyone. The winner this time around is archer.

[archer]

I found this image fascinating

[steriaca]

8 hours ago, archer said:

I found this image fascinating

Professor Rebecca Lawson is Americana The Beautiful (or simply called Americana for short). She is a top genetics scientist who gave herself high strength, agility, and toughened her skin when she decided to use her gifts to fight crime. Most of the time she plays the dumb blonde/dumb brick stereotype, but she is far from stupid. In fact, she is as smart, if not even smarter, than most of the smart heroes out there today.

[Tjack]

9 hours ago, archer said:

I found this image fascinating

 

 

  Me too.....not an idea in my head, but I am fascinated.

[archer]

Look, if people don't want me to post images, fine. I'm not great at finding them and I don't at all like doing it.

 

But I don't come to this thread to get downvotes or "I made you sad" negative responses.

 

So to hell with you...at the very least.

[Quackhell]

It's a confused face as in the content has me puzzled or even fascinated as you said. I have zero issue with it at all and as soon as I can come up with an idea for the character I will be posting it. I didn't mean any offense and have changed my reaction.

 

[archer]

13 minutes ago, Quackhell said:

It's a confused face as in the content has me puzzled or even fascinated as you said. I have zero issue with it at all and as soon as I can come up with an idea for the character I will be posting it. Sorry if the meaning of the emoji was confusing to you. 

 

Sincere apologies. I wasn't wearing my glasses and thought you reacted with a "sad face" rather than with the "confused face" which you actually used. Hovering my mouse over an emoji is apparently some new tech with which I am not familiar. < oops >

 

I found the juxtaposition of the apparently dry, pristine, clean patriotic outfit in the jungle setting with dinosaurs to be fascinating. That just kind of screams to me that there's an interesting story there which is begging to be told.

[Quackhell]

No harm done. I had the same reaction to the that juxtaposition. Now I just have to see if I can come up with a fun idea to incorporate into a back story for the character.

[steriaca]

Me? I simply ignore the dinosaurs, assuming that the "photo" was taken durring an adventure (either time travel or to a Savage Land [tm] environment). She is a superhero after all (unless she is not).

[BoloOfEarth]

Personal Journal - New Glory

 

I'm not sure how to date this entry - it's not like they had calendars back in the Jurassic, and my smartphone went nutso as soon as we went through the time gate.  Major Patriot says I'll have to wait until we get back before I can tweet about our trip.  Bummer.

 

So anyway, I had Major P take the attached pic right after we got here.  Major suckage that we landed in the water, but at least it wasn't deep enough to get my hair wet.  The bugs are a pain, but the big leather birds are cool, and the dinos are freaking awesome.  I'm half-hoping we run into a T-Rex - I bet with my strength I can pick one up by the tail and spin him around like a toy!  Yay, me!  #dinogirlrulz!

 

Major Paintriot keeps telling me that we're not here to ride dinos, or fly with the pteroduckbills or whatever.  He's such a downer.  I was kinda hoping going back in time would pull that stick out of his butt, but whatever!  So we're off to chase down Doc Diabolical before he does whatever he's planning to do.  Major P keeps talking about the butterfly effect, but I haven't seen a single butterfly since we got here, just dragonflies the size of your fist. 

 

Wonder if I should warn the dinos about the asteroid that's gonna wipe 'em out...

[Quackhell]

 

On September 25, 2019 at 3:44 PM, archer said:

I found this image fascinating

 

The American Dream Girl

 

An android created by Professor Wesley Essex as part of the Omega Initiative, a government program aimed at created super beings. Her synthetic skin covering is resilient to damage and her omni-ware exo-skeleton even more so. She has heightened strength and a kinetic energy control array that allows her to redirect physical attacks back on her opponents. She also possesses her beguiling gaze, as Essex dubbed it, which transmits a light wave that calms and pacifies targets. 

 

She has joined with other OI successes Kid Turbo, Steadfast, The Banner, and Steeleheart to form the Icons. Their victories over The Baffler, Minor Domo and his Major Minions, Long Shadow and the League of Pain are the stuff of legend. However their strangest adventure was saving the science team, including Professor Essex, who were thought lost in the alternate dimension Earth known as Pangea Ultima. This would also end up leading to the invasion by Triassic Rex and his dinosaur army, but that is a tale for another day. 

[BoloOfEarth]

Quackhell, I really want to play in one of your games some day.  From your posts here, I have a feeling they would be pretty cool.  Do you ever run games at conventions (and if so, which ones)?

[Quackhell]

2 hours ago, BoloOfEarth said:

Quackhell, I really want to play in one of your games some day.  From your posts here, I have a feeling they would be pretty cool.  Do you ever run games at conventions (and if so, which ones)?

Thanks for the kind words. Sadly my role-playing days are far behind me and honestly while I owned a lot of superhero RPGs back then, my group was almost always more interested in D&D. Participating in these posts has allowed me to revisit some of my old campaign ideas and plans and enjoy everyone else's fun takes as well.

[death tribble]

Body Beautiful

 

This is the superhero id of Rebecca Lansen who was the proverbial ugly duckling. She was ignored at school because she was neither too pretty to inspire jealousy or so ugly to generate hatred. During a battle between reality warpers and wizards all sorts of energy was unleashed which resulted in Rebecca's transformation. After a period of adjustment she began her career of fighting crime using the nom de guerre Body Beautiful as all the others like Captain America, Liberty, Constitution, Glory etc had been taken. It was the press who had dubbed her Body Beautiful. One of her major exploits was in Dinosaur Land which is where the picture was taken. She has enhanced strength, endurance and invulnerability. In her new form she is also quite a swimmer and able to survive underwater for an extended period without breathing.

[Tjack]

On 9/26/2019 at 2:25 AM, archer said:

Look, if people don't want me to post images, fine. I'm not great at finding them and I don't at all like doing it.

 

But I don't come to this thread to get downvotes or "I made you sad" negative responses.

 

So to hell with you...at the very least.

 

 

    All I meant was  “Wow,  picture of pretty girl,  Mongo like.”   But then again, Mongo is but a pawn in game of life.

[steriaca]

Funny how most of us (if not all) make her to be a patirotic brick character. 

[Quackhell]

2 hours ago, steriaca said:

Funny how most of us (if not all) make her to be a patirotic brick character. 

Great minds think alike...or we are all unoriginal hacks.

[tombrown803]

1 hour ago, Quackhell said:

Great minds think alike...or we are all unoriginal hacks.

or all unoriginal hacks have great minds?

[Duke Bushido]

On 9/25/2019 at 3:44 PM, archer said:

I found this image fascinating

 

 

It was the dinosaurs, wasn't it?     I mean, when I first saw it, I thought "meh.  random over-anatomized Barbie clone in spandex, posing in the water---

 

then I saw the dinosaurs.  That made it awesome!

 

 

On 9/26/2019 at 2:25 AM, archer said:

Look, if people don't want me to post images, fine. I'm not great at finding them and I don't at all like doing it.

 

Same.  My search-fu is weak, Dude.

 

Quote

 

But I don't come to this thread to get downvotes or "I made you sad" negative responses.

 

So to hell with you...at the very least.

 

 

Don't sweat it.  We have similar opinions on down voters, it seems.  I mean, I don't wish them ill, but I do wish them the spine to explain themselves.  And I promise you, I don't do it.

 

Now I have _never_ played this game before  (it's a time thing, usually), but the dinosaurs were so damned cool I wanted to take a shot at it.

 

Moving forward:

 

 

      "General Cribbs, that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

The words hit the general like a boot in the gut.  It's one thing to be randomly called out, but when the President of the United States stands up just so he can more cleanly point a finger directly at you in the middle of a locked-door planning session.... well, it's hard not to take that personally.  Cribbs took a moment to consider his next statement, and to make sure the humiliation he felt was securely locked and under control.  

   Finally, he spoke.  "Mr. President, it is with all due respect that I am going to go back over everything that was said here.  I want to make it perfectly clear to---"  he caught himself, and corrected almost completely without a hitch-- "everyone in this room  just why this is not just a vital proposal, but a necessary one."  He sat, unflinching, waiting to be shut down or allowed to continue.

   "All right, Cribbs," the President acquiesced, almost smugly, "let's hear just why we need yet another Flag Suit."  The most powerful man in the free world mistook the half-second of silence while the General framed his thoughts as a sign that perhaps the General himself had lost faith in the whole ridiculous plan:  "No; _please_, General! "he oozed sarcastic obsequiousness.  "You _have_ the floor."

   'One day,' Cribbs thought to himself, 'that little Ivy League snot is going to realize that not a single one of those halfwits that voted for him is going to lift a finger-- let alone a gun-- to defend him should we be overrun.  One day he will figure out that the people in this room-- the people he sits here and patronizes and insults before going on television to brag about our lack of need for a defense budget-- are the only people here willing to fight to keep his dumb ass alive.'  He sighed, wishing almost whole-heartedly that this was that day.  'No.  Not yet.  If this works-- God help us, if either he or Congress one signs off on this, then that day may never have to come.'  Finally, he spoke aloud:

 

    "Mr. President, as you know, our position in world politics is laughable, and has been since the War for American Independence.  Tradition blames this on our getting our start as a free nation by aligning ourselves with France.  I disagree, of course: without a wealthy European ally at that time, our independence would not have even been possible.   However, the United States of America has never really managed to rise to a place of prominence in the world political or economic theaters, and our prolonged policy of isolation has done nothing to improve our position."

    "Explain yourself, General!" snapped someone from behind him.

    "We have stayed out of every event that shaped the world from the time we gained independence.  It doesn't take a scholar to note that every single participant in World War 1 today banks on the fact that they rose to the occasion to stop war, to stop evil.  That today they all enjoy the technological and manufacturing principles developed under the strains of that war.   Then again in World War 2: we stayed out of it.  The Russians stopped the Nazis as they marched toward Asia, and they followed the German retreat all the way into the heart of Germany itself.  We ignored cries from our eldest and even our first ally, first as the Nazis tore down their infrastructures, then again when the Russians came through planting flags.    Mr. President, the United States of America, Australia, and in their own unique way Scotland-- once all under the rule of the mightiest empire ever to live, are today the last two-and-a-half nations on the globe that speak English."

   "That's not entirely true!"  the President smirked.  "I think if you'll check, the Canadians speak english--"

   "Yes; the border states of Canadia speak _some_ english!  And why is that?  Did anyone in the Free States of Canadia speak English before 1962?  No!  They did not.  They _learned_ English, en masse, in 1963, for the sole purpose of taunting and jeering at us until 1969, when we were forced to admit that empire building was not our forte, and that our prolonged sieged was going nowhere.  The last free people of Eastern France-- our first ally, for the love of all that's just-- sailed across an ocean just to _give_ weapons to Canadia as a retribution for our completely ignoring their pleas during not one, but THREE separate invasions!

   "And what did Canadia do with them?  Tell me!  What did Canadia do with the cutting-edge military hardware that was -given_ to them, without asking, by our former ally?  They made fools of us with them, that's what they did!"

   No one spoke.  Every face was looking down, protected against eye contact.  Everyone in this room was alive during the Expansionist Wars.  Everyone remembered how the Canadians, a people without even a military, at that time, had sent volunteers armed with beautiful and fascinating weapons, routed the Americans and their brass-and-wood cap-and-ball weaponry at every skirmish.  Canadia had no military, but had sent food stuffs and wealth and engineers to the allies in both World Wars, and had been invited to play on the world stage.  She gained new technologies and manufacturing techniques, became a world leader, and today dominates the western half of the globe.  Everyone in this room was powerful and wealthy, at least by American standards.  And every one one of them knew that when they left this meeting, they would ride to their homes in chauffeur-driven limousines of various Canadian makes.  No one of worth wanted to be caught in one of the open-wheeled,smoke belching, steam-driven American monstrosities.

   "No one?  No one at all?   They _THREW THEM AT US!  That's right; pretend you don't know!  Pretend you don't know that in 1968 the Prime Minister of Canadia decided that the United States of America was such a militaristic joke that he ordered the construction of over one thousand trebuchets, and on Christmas Day, 1968, began the Twelve Day Siege, throwing a million or more tons of technology-- weapons, assembly lines, massive computer banks, tanks, cars, even maglev train cars!-- on the camps of American soldiers, desperately trying to hold the territories they had captured during the war--"  his voice had crescendoed, and here it snapped; flattened.  He spat the next few words-- "All twelve thousand feet of it."

    They all knew it was true.  In years of siege, at the cost of nearly two million American lives, and almost seven hundred Canadian lives, the United States of America had managed to push their northern border less than seven miles into the nation of Canadia.

  "We are a joke, _gentlemen_"  he stressed hard on that last word, knowing that each of these assembled individuals lived as high and dandy aristocrats on nothing but the last of the wealth of the United States.  There was little left that wasn't silver or coal.  The Aztecs...

   Oh, the Aztecs....  Once, there was no serious trouble between the US and Azteka.  Once disputes were settled between men, as often as not with a revolver against an Aztec spear.  Those were glory days, then.  American superiority.  The Aztecs were welcome to use the river, but never to cross it.  Then the gold.  When the word got out that Gold had been discovered in California, well the Aztecs wanted it, too.  Upward they came, as an army-- even recruiting the Reds straight off the reservations, marrying them into tribe after tribe.....  The gold in California, the copper in Nevada...   America had been unable to defend even its own lands.

   The Atecs left, of course, but not until the metals were gone.  Some stayed, and their cities were dangerous places, the residents declaring them to be conquered trophies for the nation of Azteka.  No American would admit it, even though he knew it was true.  There never had been a reason for them to leave: with no wealth to draw American settlers westward and no American interests to defend-- and in the twentieth century the massive influx of commie Chinese trying to take land for who knows what reason-- and the only force fighting against these Asian invaders?  The stinking Aztec invaders!  Finally, tiring of Canadia's demand that they do something to stem the tide of Aztec migrants sneaking into Canadia through US soil, the government very quietly ceded everything west of the Rockies to Azteka.  It didn't stay quiet for long, though.

   "How about it, Gentlemen?  Can't say anything?  Then answer me this:  How many Americans does it take to change a light bulb?  Or this:  Did you hear about the American Submarine?  It's got screen doors!  Why does the new American Navy use glass bottom boats?!"  He began to froth, the muscles in his neck tightening to the point that his starched collar was restricting bloodflow from his purpling face.  "What the HELL is wrong with you?!  Why is this okay with you?!  We are the absolute most hated nation on the face of this earth!  Those that don't hate us just point and laugh at how ridiculous it is to see a third world county try so very hard to play on the international scene.  What do we do?  We try to _buy_ respect?!  With _what_?!  Our reparations to Canadia have cost us the oil reserves of Alaska!  The Aztecs have taken our precious metals!  We gave them a fifth of our continental holdings just because they were doing a better job defending it against people who had to come here in ships!  This is lunacy--"

 "And _your_ suggestion" interrupted the President, who had, amidst this shaming session, finally found both his voice and his arrogance, "is yet another Flag Suit?!  Are you just plain _daft_, Old Man?!"  he sneered, hungrily.  Someone would pay for making him feel shame, no matter how briefly it had been.  Tell me, _General_" the ice in his voice told Cribb with crystal clarity that when this meeting was over, he would be general no more "do you not remember the _stupidity_ of the Flag Suit Wars?  Every nation on earth was having super-powered individuals popping up all over the place-- everyone but _us_, here at home!  Suddenly, every nation had dozens or even hundreds of super beings, and to a country the various nations of the world selected the most powerful of their supers to be wrapped in a flag and trotted around like ponies!  Wars were almost a thing of the past-- disagreements were settled in the Warzone, on global television, Flag Suit against Flag Suit.  Suddenly, all you needed was a super-powered individual, and they could be found _anywhere_!  Anywhere, General, except right here in the United States of America.  You think you've heard all the American jokes?  You think we _haven't_?!  Remember this one?  That comedian back in the seventies, the Australian guy, whatever his name was-- Why don't Americans have super humans?  Too stupid to mutate!  Or the Scottish guy-- 'because you can't have an industrial accident when you don't have any industry!.  Yeah; we've heard them all.

   And what was the military's answer to the super deficit?  Flag Suits!  You idiots started training agents to _fake_ super powers!  You idiots built gadgets and clunky gizmos and machinery and painted flags on it and said "Look!  We have supers!  Hell, we have so many that we had to pick ten of them to wear flag suits!"  Then what did you do?  You put them into the goddamned Warzone, like you were betting on territories with poker chips--"

   "Bullspit!"  The general was livid.   "That was all _your_ doing!  Every last bit of --"

  "I was barely a kid, General; you have a lot of--"

  "You and others like you!  Spoiled little aristocratic dipshits who decided that these poor bastards-- meant do to nothing more than be displayed, or maybe filmed doing super things-- were suddenly commodities with which you could win land or wealth and you even got a bonus blood sport!  All you sick bastards did was make us more the laughing stock of the world, add another layer of failure to our legacy, and make sure the rest of the world branded us as sadistic slavers, never to be allowed back on the worlds stage.  Those people were willing to live their lives as frauds, separated from their families forever, just to try and get a small amount of respect for their countrymen.  You aristocratic children might just as well have murdered them."

  "So what?  What's your plan now, General?  Yet another Flag Suit?  No one wants to play with us anymore; don't you remember, Old Man?  You _just_ finished saying that, Grandpa."

Cribbs steadied himself.  He counted his breaths.  He searched consciously for a song in tempo with his pulse.  When he calmed down, he spoke again.  "We found one."

   "Found one _what_, General?"

  "We found a super human."

  "Oh _good_...  "the President rolled his eyes.  "What kind of sham gadgets have you built for this one?  Or will he just explode when you kick him?"

Rage.  Rage tore through Cribbs again-- jokes about people who were murdered as nothing more than gambling wagers.  His own son had been amongst the original Flag Suits.

  "This one " he modulated through clenched teeth "is real."

  "Great.  That doesn't help us, unless he wants to defect to the poorest county on earth, does it?"

More anger.  How could he speak so glibly about poverty while wearing a suit that cost more that Cribbs would earn in a lifetime?

  "THIS ONE " he caught himself-- "is _real_.  And from right here; born in Pickett, Virginia."

   A solid silence fell onto the room.  It seemed that even breathing had stopped.

   "Really?"  asked the President, earnestly.  "You found a real super, here in the US?"

   "We did.  Almost by accident."

   "What can he do?  Can he take the Warzone?  No one fights very hard for Cambodia these days---"

 

The painful ringing in his ears told Cribbs that his blood pressure had finally gone too high.  He was going to die.  

   When he didn't feel anything he thought might be a heart attack, he began to turn. There had been a noise-- a loud explosion.  He turned into a cloud of acrid gun smoke.  From the corner of his eye, he could see a shocked look growing across the President's face as he looked down at his chest, where a stain of red began to grow rapidly.  The Secret Service men flanking him leapt away, looking for any cover should the shooter have another round prepared.  Cribbs finished turning and saw a giant of a man calmly re-loading an empty chamber in his brass revolver.  The man was a Secret Service agent; one of two placed behind the Joint Chiefs to ensure the President's safety from his own advisors.  Cribbs stared, incredulously.

   The man shrugged, and reholstered his weapon.  "My father was a Flag.  He had a couple of gimmicks that would let him climb walls and leap really high.  Bullet proof costume.  The President at the time put him in the Warzone against a flying flamer.  He wasn't settling a dispute.  He was "negotiating" a vacation in Spain.  My father never had a chance.  I met the President, just before my father had the "honor" of "defending the US from our enemies."  He wasn't any different from this putz."  He nodded toward the not-quite dead President gasping on the floor.  "Hell, none of them nave been...."

  "They will kill you when we leave here" Cribbs stated flatly.

   "Can you restore my father's honor?  Can you make our country and our people something the rest of the world could  be inspired by?"

   "I believe so; yes."

   "Then it's worth it.  If it's okay, I'd like to hear your plan."

 

    Cribbs turned to the Joint Chiefs.  "Gentlemen, we have found the fist U.S. born super powered human. Not only that, but she is unique in all the world.  She is the first known superhuman who can travel through time.  We have been training and coaching here for seven years now-- since just before that ass" he jerked a thumb behind him " won the election.   We believe that she is now ready.  Our plan is complex, but we have the best historians, the best sociologists and the best  civil psychologists in this country working with her, and on the plan."

   "So what is it that she is meant to do?"

   "She can travel through time, and evidently as far as she wants to, in either direction.  She can stay as long as she wants as well.  This is tailor-made for our plan.  We have identified key moments in history that we, as a country, mismanaged.  Her mission is to correct as many of those moments as possible.  With any luck, she can place the United States of America in the position that we know it deserves:  We can make it a major power in the world; a safe haven for the weak and downtrodden.  We can make-- _she_ can make-- us into an industrial powerhouse with the wealth and the means to defend ourselves and others.  And she is committed to doing this.  She shares our dreams for this nation.  She will correct our mistakes, and guide us to become better people than we have ever been in the past.

  The plan becomes complex as every action will have an effect on the next action, requiring constant changes and updates to the plan.  After every mission, only she will remember the previous condition; only she will remember the plan.  She will have to track us all down after each change, and train _us_ in what the world was like before.  We will have to restudy the then-history, and plan again.  She claims that she is immortal, and has been doing this already for nearly six hundred subjective years.  I don't know; we have no way to prove that.  But gentlemen, I believe her.  I believe in her motivation, and I believe in her aspirations to make the United States into the same vision she learned from her father as a child."

  "How can you trust her?  What is her true motivation?  Why would we think her vision is any better than what we have now?"

  "Because," General Cribbs began, his voice soft, hard, and solemn "she learned it from her father, and he learned it from me."

  "Why would she want to do this for hundreds of years when any other country on earth would give her anything she ever wanted if she really is a time traveler?  Who the Hell is she, anyway?"  The questions poured in.

  The general looked away, over his audience, then his gaze wandered around the room."Her motivation is the desire to both create the society that her father hoped his own efforts might create.  Her desire is to right his senseless death, not through retribution, but through prevention.  Her father, she says, died in the Warzone when she was nine years old, and he died for absolutely no righteous reason.."  Behind him, an impossibly tall woman, nearly seven foot in her heeled boots, strode in proudly, wearing a costume that appeared to made of material salvaged from a flag--- closer inspection revealed it to be material salvaged from a Flag Suit.  A bodice covered her when the fabric ran short.

   "Her name," his voice cracked with emotion, "is Rebecca Leigh Cribbs.   But she prefers that we think of her as American Glory."

 

 

[Quackhell]

Well, I know which one I would vote for now. Wow. Well done Duke Bushido.

[Scott Ruggels]

Okay here's an interesting one.  Back in 1993 I was working at Accolade Games in San Jose, and we were working on a Superhero martial Arts game for the Sega Genesis, and the Nintendo SNES. Accolade had recently won a lawsuit allowing them to make Nintendo Cartridges, so.. I will not tell you what this team was named for the game, but it does illustrate my excesses of that early 90's Image Comics style I had to use for that project. So who are these folks?

[steriaca]

(I can't see the picture. It is just a grey squair to me right now. So with the clues...

Update: I can see them now.)

 

This group is the Grey Squad. Full of men with broad shoulders, hi-tech guns, tiny feat, and pockets, and women who would break in half if they would bend over, they were a black ops group in the 90's who were litterly put into suspended animation and forgotten by the goverment untill recently.

 

They are Grimdark, Ninjara, Plazap, and Big Pain. Not pictured is Little Pain, Pocket, Blade-X, and War Mind.

[archer]

17 hours ago, Duke Bushido said:

 

It was the dinosaurs, wasn't it?     I mean, when I first saw it, I thought "meh.  random over-anatomized Barbie clone in spandex, posing in the water---

 

then I saw the dinosaurs.  That made it awesome!

 

 

Yeah, it was definitely the dinosaurs.

 

17 hours ago, Duke Bushido said:

Same.  My search-fu is weak, Dude.

 

 

Searching is definitely some esoteric art rather than a science.

 

I can look up bizarre information in a couple of seconds which came in really handy when I was reporting and writing news copy. "Doctor successful brain transplant" will find me all the information I need on that topic in the amount of time it takes to type it out. It drives my wife nuts how fast I can find stuff. And how I can tell which of the results on a search page will give exactly the right information without having to click through them all, even when the descriptions don't give a good clue.

 

But images are apparently sorted completely differently than information. Every time I try to find superheroes, I end up finding furries or nude pictures.

 

Anyway...

 

Duke, you win this round. Very awesome story and a unique, compelling take on the character. The story leaves us wondering whether Trump is the intended consequence of time travel, the unintended consequence of time travel, or one of the things in history which went wrong and should be corrected...a perfect story hook.

 

Winning gives you the right to post the next picture for us to consider. If you choose not to post a picture, just let us know. Scott jumped the gun and posted a picture so he can have your turn if you don't want it.

[Duke Bushido]

Thank you, Sir.

 

I am flattered. 

 

As for an image:  well, I've already admitted I am terrible at finding them. 

 

Fortunately, Scott's image is awesome and already up here.  I move that we use his. 

 

 

 

[archer]

16 hours ago, Scott Ruggels said:

Okay here's an interesting one.  Back in 1993 I was working at Accolade Games in San Jose, and we were working on a Superhero martial Arts game for the Sega Genesis, and the Nintendo SNES. Accolade had recently won a lawsuit allowing them to make Nintendo Cartridges, so.. I will not tell you what this team was named for the game, but it does illustrate my excesses of that early 90's Image Comics style I had to use for that project. So who are these folks?

 

The big bruiser is The Skipper. He doesn't have a nautical theme but he has the annoying habit of calling people "lil buddy" so the Skipper tag just sort of stuck. He's a bit on the dim side mentally but his personality is bright, cheerful, and he's always ready for a fight. He's the nicest guy you'd ever want to meet, if you stay on his good side. Definitely a hero's hero. (The Skipper over the years has developed the secret desire to own a boat if he can find one which can bear his weight.)

 

The purple guy is Freezo. His original freeze gauntlets used to have some feedback issues. A couple of times as a beginning hero when he was trying to introduce himself, he started off with a dramatic entrance and announcing, "I'm the Amazing Freez...ow!" as the gauntlet feedback nearly froze his own hands off. It was easier going with "Freezo" than trying to reintroduce himself to the public and, in comparison, at least "Freezo" is much better than "Freez-ow!"

 

The lady is the Scarlet Ninja. Veronica is colorblind and a bit touchy so don't criticize her choice of costume.

 

The codename of the short fellow in the front is Buzzcut. Spencer Graham is a former Marine and an ace tactician. He's the field leader of the group but he usually palms off the public relations aspects of the job onto one of the others. He's sort of like Captain America on steroids...lots and lots of steroids.

 

Together, they are The Slammers!