DasBroot

We should be able to criticize any U.S. president without bringing up conspiracy theories or "aid and comfort to the enemy" BS.  Slamming the president's actions and policies is a fundamental American duty. It just needs to not go off into the weeds with birtherism or other flat earth nonsense.

That's a feature, not a bug.  There are so many outrages that either people become numb and stop paying attention, or no particular outrage gets long-term attention because it's quickly replaced by the next one.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
--Emma Lazarus, "The New Colossus"
 
"I've spoken of the Shining City all my political life. …In my mind it was a tall, proud city built on rocks stronger than oceans, windswept, God-blessed, and teeming with people of all kinds living in harmony and peace; a city with free ports that hummed with commerce and creativity. And if there had to be city walls, the walls had doors and the doors were open to anyone with the will and the heart to get here."
--the 40th president of the United States
 
"Why are we accepting all these people from shithole countries?"
--the 45th president of the United States
 
"Jesus wept"
-John 11:35
 
 
 

A very large amount of the world's population drinks 'raw water'.
 
Many die.
 
"Our water is too clean - it weakens our immune system!" is about as first world a problem as I've ever heard. 
 
 

(And for the one or two of you that are still reading, I'm finally resuming)
 
 
"Gimmie your purse, Lady," I drew the empty gun and pointed it at the face of the woman I loved.
 
This was the fifth try, we went one block, moved another two or so, and then tried again. By now we had crossed from one end of the worst neighborhoods to another and still no dice. And this was an area that was one of Bloodwatch's favorite hunting grounds for punks, muggers, and worse.  Maybe Bloodwatch was laying low thanks to Apocalyptic giving a warning he was a target. Assuming he saw himself as a superhero?
 
That didn't quite fit the mentality of the man I had met. He'd be cautious, but give up on his crusade against crime as he saw it? No. He was too obsessed for that.
"No, please, I have to pay my bills or I'll lose my coverage," Ariana adlibbed, even as I refocused on take five of the 'let's mug your girlfriend' skit.
That's when a green and yellow figure slammed down from above and hit my head before bouncing off!
 
"No means no!" my attacker rebounded for another swing, "Get back, miss! Superhero to the rescue! Girl power! Women unite! And yet she persisted!" Pogo landed almost as many springy blows and punches as she did sentences, which meant the attacks were adding up.
 
"Pogo," I tried to explain, but she wasn't having it and I didn't get to explain until she bounced off a nearby wall and smashed her elbow into my nose moving like a deranged dodgeball.
 
"Shame on you," She lectured as she walloped and thumped me all over, "Shame shame shame, sir! Times are hard, yes, but that doesn't give you the right to mug people. Is it drugs? Are you on the opioids? The crack? There are clinics, there are ways to get help, twelve step programs and support groups, after you wake up maybe the police can help you get your life straight, but first you must pay your time for the mugging. Might for right! JUUUUUSTIICE!" She was now a green and yellow blur thumping and bumping and striking and kicking, my eyes were having trouble finding her.
 
"Pogo, stop," Ariana said, "It's okay, he's not a bad guy, we're both-"
 
But no, she wasn't getting a full sentence in either.
 
"OMG! He Stockholm syndromed you, don't worry miss, we'll get you help too," Pogo assured her, "As soon as he falls I," bounce spring beat beat beat, "Okay, he's one tough mugger, miss. I mean, he should have been out like three whomps ago. If he's a supervillain he's breaking a few rules not wearing a costume."
"I'm Eel," I hissed at her hoping she could hear but no one else stumbling onto the scene would.
 
"Ill? Sir, if you have a mental condition that drives you to crime than I'll make sure you get the best therapist I can if the lady refuses to press charges but-"
"EEL," I said a bit louder as she planted a bouncy foot in my face.
 
"Heel? Oh, you do not treat women like some kind of dog you mugging misogynist," she said, and rained down another four blows, "not on my watch! Get woke or get broke!"
"Oh Christ," I muttered, figuring Jesus would forgive me the slip. Traditionally our lord and savior is a pretty good sport, "Fish Guy. I'm FISHGUY, we met?"
And just like that, the attacks stopped as the superpowered Asian-American teenager finally ceased her attacks and settled for bouncing around, "Fish Guy? You're undercover? Cool, why didn't you say it was you? I'm not a telepath you know, though I don't think I'd want to be, all that talk in my head constantly, not able to shut it out, can you imagine what that would be like?"
 
"Getting an idea," I managed to slip in, "Pogo, you're in danger."
 
"Ooo, is it because you stole something from Mister Brute?" She inquired, "It's all on Supranow what he did to Viewpoint, but he can't hurt me, I bounce back from wrecking balls."
"Can you be cut?" Valorosa said.
 
"Well," She looked worried.
 
"Or burned?" I asked before she went back in chatterbox mode, "They have a lot of ways of hurting someone, Pogo. And even with raw strength alone, Mister Brute could grapple with you and then suffocate you by covering your mouth and nose until you die."
 
"Eeep," She squeaked as she thought about it, "So, got a spare bunk at your base?"
 
"You didn't have to scare her," Ariana muttered to me, then answered Pogo, "Sure thing, Pogo."
 
"Great, just, uhm, who are you?" Pogo asked Ariana, "Are you like his sidekick or something?"
 
I snerked and looked to the side.
 
Avoid eye contact, Caleb. Avoid eye contact and live.
 
"No," Ariana said taking a moment to collect herself, "I'm undercover too. I'm the newest member of the New Samaritans, they call me Valorosa," She offered a hand.
 
"So, uhm, the New Samaritans brought on female minority superheroine, that's, very diverse of them," Pogo said shaking the hand and sighing, "Of course, they have women, and they have a latino so you know, if I were Lady Obsidian I might try to squeeze in, and I'm just spitballing here, maybe say a younger Asian-American superheroine? But good, good on them, I just you know, been trying for a while now, and it's hard not to take this the wrong way. Kind of hurts, a little, in here. Got big dreams. Yup. Pocket full of dreams and a thirst for justice. If justice were a juice I'd be a twelve can a day girl. But I guess there's some ceilings left to crack, not saying you put it there, just you know, the old green-eyed monster at play here and-"
 
"You're still too young, Pogo," Ariana interrupted.
 
"Darn it," Pogo muttered.
 
"Okay, not to rush things," I said, "But we need to get her to base, and see if we can find Bloodwatch already."
 
"Bloodwatch? Why do you want that nutbar?" Pogo said, "He should be in jail. I mean, we all might be a little loose on some laws, but he thinks Deathwish is a how to guide. I tried to capture him once and he blew me up. I mean, it didn't hurt, but I ended up in the suburbs in a backyard with really yappy, what do you call those little wiener dogs?"
 
"Dachshunds," I told her.
 
"Gesundheit" Pogo said and continued, "Anyway, it really eats me up how many folks he's killed, sure, they're usually bad people but gosh darn it, I've been behind on library book returns and I don't want to die."
 
"I think he's the least of your problems right now," I said, "Now come on, let's escort you to the base and-" I almost didn't see her I'm pretty sure I didn't. It was more like the sound you might hear with a high wind rushing up a narrow alleyway, "Move!" I pushed Pogo and sent her flying against a wall.
 
Slice's blade carved through the space where Pogo had been. Pogo meanwhile rebounded off said wall and sprung into the air. Slice didn't seem to know who to go after, and if she had just left then we never would have caught her, instead she arched around and nearly sheared my head off as I hastily slipped on a mask from underneath my shirt. Secret Identities are important, assuming you don't have other ways to keep your loved ones protected twenty-four seven it can be the best defense they have.
"You're not some street thug," Slice observed which is the most I recall her speaking compared to the others of her team.
 
"It's the Jersey accent, isn't it?" I told her, "They told me that it was a stupid idea to do in California, and I wasn't pulling it off anyway." I talked to distract her from Pogo, who was hopefully well on her way to safety.
 
"No hero left behind!" Pogo declared as she narrowly missed landing on Slice, and then managed to get a punch on her anyway. Pogo didn't have super-strength, but she could certainly move someone thanks to her natural knack for kinetic reactions. Slice actually stumbled.
 
"Pogo get out of here!" I called out and slammed my foot down creating a shockwave even as I ordered her, "Where there's one member of the Apocalyptic team there's more," I wanted nothing more than to finish Slice off, but I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.
 
The fact that a burning figure was appearing in the distance proved my point. Even as Slice slammed against a wall and seethed with her razor-sharp weapons ready. Now that she was slowed down, I saw they were knives. The abundance of sharp things that could cut through anything lately was really starting to annoy me. 
 
"Alleyoop?" Valorosa asked in the com.
 
I smiled, and hoped this would work, "Alley Oop."
 
Valorosa threw a garbage can, a pretty full one, at the speedster, who could have dodged but instead resorted to cutting it in half. She should have just avoided as refuse rained down over her. Fast or not, that was going to stain.
 
"Can't smell worse than your perfume," Ariana told her trying her best, I thought, to emulate Arctic Fox's style, "Come on,  miss stabby, by the time I'm done with you you'll be lucky if you're in shape to sell cutlery on an infomercial."
 
Slice charged Valorosa, and Valorosa , who could be denser than steel, took another option, and went ghost like. Slice rushed through full tilt boogie for injustice, where I was waiting.  That's when I seized Slice's arm, whirled her around applying as much pressure as I could, took a cut from her free hand for my trouble but snapped her wrist in return. She screamed, one of her blades dropped, and I threw her into the flaming figure of Firebug.
 
It was possibly one of the best throws of my life. The results were truly spectacular. I didn't just mope when someone kicked my ass, I tried to learn about them, and I knew Slice, like a lot of speedsters, was a quick healer. But I imagine a broken wrist, and a crash into a fellow team mate who routinely burned at fifteen hundred degrees Celsius would leave a mark.  Firebug dimmed just a bit at the contact, though whether it was to keep from burning a team make terribly or because she just been hit hard herself I didn't know.
"Souvenir, dibs!"  Pogo grabbed the fallen knife, and bounced up again, "Wow this is so sharp you could shave with it."
 
"Be careful with that, and let's get moving," Valorosa said, her voice softer in her ghost state than at normal density.
 
"But we can take em!" Pogo protested.
 
"Right now, young lady," a stronger voice as she grew solid, then she turned, "Eel, I know you want to take them down but- hey!"
 
The reason the lady of my life was startled as because I had wasted no time in getting the hovercycle and was now in the driver's seat, "Pogo, Valorosa, get in," I said as I brought it down ground level, "Fast."
 
Ariana slipped behind me and put her arms around me even as she kept an eye on the foes who were recovering, "I think Mister Brute and Dice are in the distance."
 
That seemed to be enough to discourage even Pogo's exuberance, and she bounded into the sidecar, "Okay, we'll get them another day?"
 
"We or we?" I inquired, "Sorry, Pogo, don't let a lucky break fool you into thinking we've got them easily beat." I gunned the cycle and we were off like a shot. However badly hurt Slice was, she was the only one who might catch us right now, and she was still recovering it seemed. Thank goodness.
 
"Mabel," I said, "We've got Pogo, despite a clash with two of Apocalyptic. No Fumian activity here. How about the others?"
 
Mabel replied, "Plenty of action, actually, Tornado, Fox, and Pinprick had an encounter with a Fumian dealing technology to a group of gamers wanting access to the alpha test to some MMORPG. I had to help them detach the poor idiots because their brain patterns became interrogated into the wiring. In short, they almost became a collective Artificial Intelligence. Eventually their personalities would have merged, probably gone crazy, but even if they hadn't they would be dead as individuals."
 
"Well, that's just all kinds of disturbing," I admitted.
 
Ariana shuddered as well.
 
"Cool," Pogo exclaimed, then noticed us looking at her, "I mean, terrible. Absolutely terrible."
 
I couldn't help but chuckle, "It's a little bit both," I admitted to Pogo, then said "Mabel, get your scanners ready. We've got one of Slice's knives"
"I was the one who called dibs," Pogo wanted to be sure we understood that.
 
"Yes, yes," I agreed, "But I want to make sure we're not being tracked. I mean, they might figure out where the base is, but let's make them work for it, huh?"
Mabel assured me, "Not to worry, the hovercycle has scanners too, and I'm having them do a run down now. Nasty knife, but no transmissions or odd energy signatures. I'll want to study in more in the base, but I think it's safe."
 
"Huh," I grew thoughtful, "damn things cut through me pretty nastily," I said looking at the wound I'd gotten from the other one.
"Yes, it's getting annoying," Valorosa said testily.
 
"Not like I intend to get cut on purpose. I'm used to most sharp things not being able to pierce or lacerate my thick hide," I told Ariana, "Then I come to this city, and everything from magic spears to alien squid bots to giant chickens to knives worn by killer speedsters has something. You think it annoys you? Get in line. Besides, nothing a –"
"Good soak in the tub won't take care of," Ariana chimed then added, "I know, I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like it." She looked at my reflection in the glass in front of me, "And stop smiling."
 
"Sorry," I said, not quite able to manage full sincerity. I knew she worried, but I was used to folks worrying back home. For her to do it? It made me feel, well, darn it, warm and fuzzy inside, not that I'd ever mention that aloud.
 
"Are you two dating?" Pogo gasped, "Oh my gosh, you're dating," She squeed a bit, "That's so romantic, the heat of battle stirring your passions, respect growing into longing, I am so putting this in my fan-fic"
 
I had no idea what to say to that. I had done an internet search on myself once, and stumbled into some truly dark corners of fandom's collective imagination that I could not unsee. It would probably be best to not ask Pogo how far her fan-fic went.
 
"Robots," Valorosa said.
 
"You want Robots in fan-fic with us?" I said.
 
"No, Robots are swarming a building over there," Valorosa gestured towards a squat building, "They look a lot like Fumian tech to me."

A very large amount of the world's population drinks 'raw water'.
 
Many die.
 
"Our water is too clean - it weakens our immune system!" is about as first world a problem as I've ever heard. 
 
 

The Last Jedi and Bright
 
TLJ was decent.  Acting and dialogue were strong (for a Star Wars movie) and the shots were amazing.  I really liked how badly the trailer 'lied' - it didn't tell the story at all.  I think that's part of the backlash, though - people made their own movie based upon what they'd seen and the real thing didn't match it.
 
Bright was decent as well - too much swearing, but it comes with the genre.  I didn't really have questions going in but have a ton coming out.   I'm still undecided if that's a sign of good setup or poor payoff.  Time will tell.

So we start with Statesman
 
 
 
So some design notes. He was a fairly easy build. High strength, durability, flight and some electrical powers. He has a lot of perks, but he has been at this since the 1930's, so he's earned them. 

Skills were just eyeballed, but i figured Teamwork and +4 to All combat were again justified by his great experience!

Please let me know what you think. All constructive comments are welcome and appreciated!

that's why you combine it with Multiform
 
 

An easy way to do it is duplication, with the default form being the duplicates, and bought at lower power level than the merged form.  Throw some limitations on it like "can only merge limited times/duration per day" and have the duplicates be different and you get the basic effect.
 
Another is for the GM to let players build a gestalt character that they can combine into for special occasions or in certain circumstances.

It is an epic failure from WB/DC's point of view, which will have a profound impact on the future of the brand. And, ultimately, that's the only point of view that matters since they, not us, are in control of the content we (get to) consume.

I'm against this and any other Trek properties just because I want the whining to stop.  Tarentino is too violent.  Abrams is too lens flare-y.  The new Klingons are ridiculous.  The old Klingons are ridiculous.  Chris Pine as Kirk is the worst.  Captain Archer is the worst.  Captain Janeway is the worst.  Shatner's hairpiece is the worst.
 
Seriously after all the complaining you'd think people would be willing to give a new director a shot.  Tarentino films are hardly more violent than most action movies; the only difference is that he doesn't gloss over or glorify it.  He also has a gift for dialogue and character driven plots.  I'd want to find out more before fully supporting the effort, but I wouldn't instantly rule out a Tarantino Trek.

*Badger looks at his own yearly salary*
 
"Aww, *****!"
 
 
 

They could have but a lot of the popularity of these shows is based on the fact that they have a pretty large non-comic reading viewer base.
 
WHile  'evil doppelganger'  is an old enough cliche that everyone gets it setting up the Crime Syndicate in any form requires time.
 
Nazi (and aliens last crossover) don't.  Superheroes punching Nazis is as time honored and American as... superheroes punching Nazis.
 
 

I still want a warrant. My house, as far as I know, has no illegal contraband in it. I still want a warrant if they search it. My phone, as far as I know, isn't calling Daesh or other terrorist organization or being used to arrange drug drops. I still want them to have a warrant. 
 
It it means the police have to actually do paperwork, the poor precious dears, tough stuff. Our rights as Citizens come before the ease of any government agency. First, Last, Always.
 
 
 

(Bet you guys thought that once I hit the 50,000 I had forgotten about this)
 
"What smells like Puke?" Pinprick sniffed the air as he rode in on the back of the hovercycle.
 
"Puke," I answered, and slid the packet into the storage of the vehicle, "This is the chemical weapon, or whatever I took off Mister Brute."
 
'We'll study it later," Lady Obsidian said sending the vehicle off with Pinprick landing on her shoulder as the field that protected her rose up to envelop him, "Lead the way back."
"Right," I nodded. Lady Obsidian had her own options for seeing in the dark so no trouble there. She had speed to keep up, but sharp turns in narrow hallways and going under would be more of a challenge for her. Now was not the time to tell her what she already knew.
 
Racing through the water ways turned out to be more of a challenge for myself as well. The water was still clean and pristine, but I didn't see the mines until I was within five feet of them. In my defense, they didn’t' look like the undersea mines you see in movies. They appeared to be small spindles no bigger than my thumb. Then I got too close to the first one and it exploded in a burst of sound waves that sounded like three different octaves of pain. Sound travels faster in water, that's not a new discovery. Which means if you have the super-tech, and you want to build defenses in a liquid medium, sonic attacks are a good way to go.
 
The force of the first one going off to the side of me made my teeth rattle and sent me in a zag towards another and then it thundered as well. Then another, and another. No way the Fumians didn't know that I, or at least someone, wasn't back in the water. The bashing against the walls didn't hurt that much, but the upper registers of the three-octave attack threatened to make my ears bleed. Suddenly a wave of force went ahead of me, like a trawler's net, encircling and then collecting the next batch of them. The sphere grew solid and there was another crescendo, but the force projections didn't so much as crack.
 
Angry as she was with me, Lady Obsidian had my back. The dark waves of solidified energy made short work of what I'm sure was supposed to render me exhausted by the time I got through them. From the ceiling, blasters the size of machine gun nests popped out to hammer down on her, but her field took it in stride. Nor was Pinprick just along for the ride as he fired at the guns with his minute magic arrows.  Farm boys born on Desert planets have nothing on Pinprick for aim, and he proved this firing arrow after arrow down the barrels of the weapons despite the distance. Of course, Lady Obsidian had to cast illumination, but it wasn't like the Fumians didn't know we were around to begin with.
That's when the squid bots came to join the party. I didn't realize what they were really, but it was the best term I could come up for them on the fly.  The damn things appeared to be made of similar metal to Queen Kat's suit, and I didn't like the look of the needles on the underside of their tentacles.
 
One of them sent three tendrils trying to shoot out to hook into me. I decided I didn't much want to let them and tried a really fancy maneuver to avoid it.
I call it retreat.
 
Shooting backwards with a good deal of swim speed, I caused all three to clamp down on nothing before I surged forward, grabbed all three of them from the safe sides and before it could bring the others to bear, I began to beat the bulk of the one I had against the next closest one like a heavy flail going to town on a piñata. The alien metal was tough enough to hurt itself, if that makes any sense, at least with me using my own full strength. Tentacles from another sheared clean off as Lady Obsidian made her force burst so it could cut between molecules.
 
She's really a very scary woman.
 
Of course, with more and more of these things coming out, it was only a matter of time before one managed to get a grip on me long enough to have its razor-sharp needles press down into my flesh. Well, they tried. While Queen Kat's claws had the extra oomph of enhanced strength to drive the metal through, the tentacles , to my surprise, weren't as strong, and the pressure wasn't as bad.
 
The wounds weren't that deep. Not that bad at all. I'd heal up in no time.
 
Then the rotten little sons of you-know-whats injected me with something.
 
I cannot tell you what an alarming feeling it is to discover some alien thing has decided to share exciting off planet drugs with your blood stream, especially when you did not see it coming.
 
Rather than whine about it, I grabbed the thing and shook it hard until I started hearing sounds not unlike broken glass in a lunch box.
But I couldn't afford to delay any further.
 
Folks were about to be transported out to who knew where for lives of slavery. Leaping out of the water with the last battered squidbot in my hand, I moved up to a run, only to find Lady Obsidian and Pinprick ahead of me. Pinprick was cursing as he was caught in some sort of weird crystal that looked ready to choke him. I ran by and tapped it hard, cracking him free.
 
"You okay?" I asked, ignoring the odd chills that had come out of nowhere.
"Better than they're going to be when I get my hands on them," He shoot a gossamer arrow towards an archway, and then swung on it like the low end of a pendulum crossing a surprising amount of space. I made a leap of my own and almost overshot altitude to hit the archway head on. Fortunately, I fell just short enough not to smash a support.
The scene before us was impressive.
 
The once sealed chamber had an opening in the roof letting the light of the sky cascade down. I'd guess it was about twenty feet wide in diameter. The vehicle was nearly forty feet off the ground and trying to escape despite the tether of force lines Lady Obsidian had about it. The transport was obviously slimmer than that, but long. It looked a lot like the old space shuttles from the eighties in design albeit a bit sleeker, and with fancy panels of crystalline material.
What was it with aliens and crystal designs anyway? Did they just think it looked pretty?
 
"I can't hold it!" Lady Obsidian said, surprising me, "The shields on this transport are diffusing and weakening my force lines! It's only matter of time. Eel, Pinprick, move fast. We need an opening, Eel- making the opening is your task. Pinprick, getting the people out of there through whatever hole can made despite the size is yours. Me? I'm trying to see if the frequency for the holo-tech I have might help me find away to adapt my own force to those shields."
 
"You can shrink me and have me keep the same level of strength?" I questioned and wiped my brow.
"I get where you're going, and I like it," Pinprick nodded, "Yeah, Rookie, it's my choice if it diminishes people's strength. Hang on."
And not for the first time, he shot me. As before, I dwindled, the world seeming to grow immense in an already spacious chamber. I staggered.
"Hey, you okay?" He grabbed me, "Jesus, you're burning up here."
 
Weird he said so. I felt like I was freezing. Then again, I hadn't felt really cold in a long time, "Folks will be working on the salt mines of Rigel 4. I'll burn up later," I told him, "If I don't make the jump with us, it's up to you to get us the rest of the way. Ready?"
"Before you were born, Fish Guy. Let's do this," He said, "Oh, and don't knock Rigel Four, the women there are the right height, and incredibly friendly."
"You're kidding," I muttered.
 
"We get done with this, rescue all the folks, and get you in the medbay, maybe I'll tell you about the exciting adventures of Pinprick and the royal sisters of Rigel Four. It's the kind of tale that'll put hair on your chest just hearing about it," He grinned, "Let's do this."
 
I grabbed him around the waist and jumped up towards the transport. Whatever that damn drug had done, I wasn't sure shrinking had helped it. I was still super-strong, but I'd done much better jumps. You'd think with less weight to cart around than my usual stature, so I'd jump further, but the truth is? I fell short.
Fortunately, we had an archer on the team. Pinprick likes to point out that a third of all superhero teams have an archer out there, and that the other two thirds suck. When the gossamer thread snagged the vehicle, and started to reel us in, I began to suspect he was right. How did anyone get around without an all-purpose bowtwanger to adapt to the varied challenges of the trade?
 
We slammed up against the side of the transport, and I began feeling around for an opening.
"We have to move quickly," Pinprick said over the roar of the thrusters, "Once you crack this thing, anyone inside is toast if it breaks atmo."
"Tell me something," I tried not to slip off as I made my way to what looked like a possible airlock seam, "I don't know." I stuck my tiny fingers into the seam and pulled, straining, "I'm not sure I can do this."
 
"Come on, get mad, that'll help," He advised.
"I'm already mad, I blew this big time, and now these people are in danger," I grunted, "Because I made the wrong call and ignored directions. How am I going to get any madder?" It was opening.
"Nascar is just going in circles," He said, "It's not a sport."
"Some folks foolishly believe that," I said straining.
"The Panthers suck," He said.
"At least they're not the Browns," I countered.
"Those moon pies your mother sent you along with the six pack of Dew?" He reminded.
"You took the last one? You told me you didn't do that. You promised that you, seriously?"
"I lied. Delicious. You rednecks make good sugar combos mmm mmmm.  It was even better knowing it was the last of each," He mimed happy nom nom noises.
I ripped the door open enough for him to slip through, "After this, assuming we all live, I get the Rigel story and you are buying me a new pack of moon pies and Dew, you got me??"
 
"Yeah Yeah Yeah," He said and darted through the passage, "gonna need it wider than that even after I shrink them."
"I got it," I said, and positioned so I could brace my feet against one side, and pushed with my hands against the other, "I don't suppose you can undo the-"
And then I expanded to regular size and the door really was wide open. Pinprick rushed in, turned a corner, and I found myself stuck in place. The doors kept trying to close again on me, probably some automatic safety function, so I couldn't leave them behind to go help Pinprick.
"How is it holding, Lady Obsidian?" I said, and I realized as I spoke I was slurring my words abit.
"Not well," She called back, "The frequency of the shields appears to have no connection to the ones for the holo-emitter. But if I try brute force, I'm liable to break something instead of just holding it down. The anti-gravs on that thing might start into a counter vibration that would cause the ship to explode."
 
"I was expecting more techno-Babble," I confessed.
"Did you want would impress or what you would understand?" She said a bit irritably, "Got any of the kidnap victims yet?"
That's when Slime shot past me, he looked thread bare, not as bright in his usual shade of blue, but  stuck onto him like popcorn on gum were seven shrunk people, all of which appeared to be mercifully unconscious still.
 
"Slime and Pinprick did," I said, "Once he gets out should I uhm fall?" It was getting hard to think for some reason.
"No, Eel, I expect you to head into orbit," She said and then a beat later, "yes, yes let go of the damn thing as soon as he gets out."
"Make way!" Pinprick swung past me carrying a very small Fumian in an undignified fashion, not that he much cared I'm sure.  The shrunk alien was out cold and judging by the burn mark on Pinprick's leg they had exchanged fire; Pinprick won obviously. Both passed by me and were gone.
"Get out of there now, Eel," the command came on the communicator.
 
I nodded, before I realized no one could see the gesture and backwards I fell.
 
I can take powerful impacts without a blink, so the drop from this height wouldn't really do more than sting. I didn't feel sprightly enough for anything fancy. So, skip the three-point landing. I dropped down for a simpler descent.
 
But I didn't really plan on the face plant that was the result.
 
I didn't see Lady Obsidian's tethers finally come free completely. I didn't see the vehicle launch off to who knows where. I did look over to see Lady Obsidian's fields rather dim, she wasn't kidding about her power reserve.
 
"Not my best landing," I confessed and got wobbly to my feet. My teeth were chattering.
"You've had better days period, young man, and we are going to talk about that in private meeting later regarding following plans and remembering priorities, a very long talk and-" She paused, "Eel? What's wrong?"
 
"Nothing's wrong that can't wait," I assured her. Then I took two steps and wondered why all the color was bleeding out of the world, because it went completely black.
And I don't remember anything after that for quite some time.

It affects movement but isn't classified as a movement power so I feel you don't need to be moving to use Desolidify - it's even on the list of actions you can Abort to Defensively, where as moving isn't: I think it's safe for ghosts and holograms can buy it to be persistent and inherent without having to spend eternity running laps around the gym. 
 
'Phasing' through bonds is a classic aspect of the power (and the power is worthy of the big ol' stop sign beside it).

I'd expect Desolidification to allow the person to get out of bonds, unless said bonds have Affects Desolidified.
 
Similarly, Teleportation could allow escape from bonds unless said bonds have Cannot be Escaped with Teleportation.

(Continued. I think I hit a snag about around here but hopefully it weaves back satisfactorily later on)
Costa Sagrado's 'sewers' are actually more than that, it's a really old city, and built on an even older settlement. So, what we'd call sewers include storm drains and steam tunnels. It’s a mishmash of historical and bureaucratic projects that somehow settled into a sustainable system. Some parts are cleaner than others normally.
Normally.
 
What was freaking me out is how everything wasn't just clean now, it was indeed clear as crystal. There was no scent at all from it, tentatively, I reached down my hand and got myself a cupped palm full of water and took a sip. I mean, Lady Obsidian told me it would be safe but darned if this wasn't the purest water I'd ever tasted in my life.
And I had drunk from mountain streams.
 
"Incredible," I muttered, and plunged into the water filled tunnel to begin my patrol.  
 
Contrary to what you may hear about superheroes, we don't really go spelunking under cities that much. We go where the crime is, and while the occasional mastermind creates an underground lair, even they don't like the typical smell of refuse, sewage, and methane that would come with this area.
 
But with the smell gone, this was pioneer country, at least to me it was, and I actually began to enjoy myself.  It was a combination race track and water park as I moved through it. As I can see in the dark, I found myself cutting sharp corners and zipping along undisturbed.
 
Well, almost undisturbed. There were some rats down here that looked absolutely baffled. I don't think they enjoyed being dirty, per se, but like a lot of mammals they weren't crazy about change; at least not change that came without warning.
 
No giant alligators, at least not yet. Then again, this was California, not New York City. Maybe we'd have something like giant yellow banana slugs haunting the passages?  I need to stop speculating like this, for superheroes its like yelling "MacBeth" on a stage is said to be for actors.
 
The next time my back rose above the water, something seized me, affixing to my back like glue and hauling me out. I had strength, sure, but without something to grab or brace against, I was having a devil of a time putting that might to work for me. Someone had just 'fished' me out of the water.
 
No way was I telling the gang about this specific little embarrassment. I would never hear the end of it. I swung around wilder than I liked trying to find the source who whoever had snared me. No one to the left, no one to the right, and I looked up to see-
"Slime?" I blinked in surprise.
 
Slime is an alien turned superhero. The reason for the name is obvious. Slime is a liquid lifeform, well, semi-liquid. He (I suppose it would be more accurate, but sometimes that feels rude) and I first met when the azure ooze extended to save a man from plummeting to his death.  Slime is morbidly fascinating, but is by no earthly measure aesthetically pleasing. He pulsates, he bubbles, and undulates. And, he stinks when he pops: It smells kind of like sulfur.
 
That said, I kind of liked the guy. A section of Slime flattened enough so words could form just under the surface of him.
Eel? What are you doing here?
 
"Looking for the Fumians, just like you are I suspect. They're priority number one," I told him, "They recently outfitted three Earth youth with power armor, at least, that's what Lady Obsidian's theory is, and they also created a fifty-foot giant chicken that went on a rampage, "I tried to catch him up. While he didn't talk, he could understand the spoken word fine, and then reply like a teleprompter.
I heard about the fifty-foot chicken. You're the one who fought that thing? How is it you always get the weird jobs?
 
I sighed, "I had help from Valorosa, but yeah, I wonder about that myself. Long story short, she got the finishing blow there.  With the cleaning of the water down here, we figure the Fumians must be using this to get around, or even as a lair. Any news on your part? And," I looked down at the water I'd been plucked from, "Could you put me down?"
 
Of course, Slime let me down, tendril letting me fall a bit more gracefully in the water, I was indeed looking for them. An Earth street gang had some very dangerous chemicals they were trying to sell as street drugs, I recognized the type. Incredibly dangerous to primates of all sorts. It can lead to insanity. They told me of a strange man so I tracked the dealer into these tunnels, then, I lost him. I noticed your motion and wondered if it wasn't some vehicle or other means of transport he was using to get away. That is how I snagged you.
 
I nodded, "Makes sense. Yeah, the others have me on the job because I can swim through the tunnels, see in the dark, that sort of thing. I wish I could be two places at once. Apocalyptic is in town, they're a pretty bad supervillain team." I filled him in with names and appearances over the next minute finishing with, "Did you see any of them?"
He shook most of his mass side to side in a simple gesture of no.
 
"Oh well," I tried not to wrinkle my nose too obviously as more of the sulfur stench wafted down on me. Sad to say, but after the cleaning down here, Slime was the most odiferous thing around. That said, he was still a superhero, "Want help me patrol for them? Two sets of-" I was going to say eyes, but then I realized, at least visibly, Slime didn't have any, "That is-"
 
Relax, Earthman, I know what you mean, There was a burble of amusement, causing him to pop and gush again, Yes, of course. We must protect the innocent, yes?
"Always," I smiled, then thought of something, "How do you handle water?"
 
Not well for long, I fear. Prolonged immersion makes it hard to remain cohesive. It can be very straining. I hope I don't slow you down too much?
He might indeed, but I figured the tradeoff of a backup would make it worthwhile, "No worries. I zip ahead, I zip back, you check the sides. The water doesn't go everywhere, after all, so once it's solid ground you move a lot more quickly than I do.  So, it all evens out. Anything else you can tell me about the Fumians we might not already know?"
Slime seemed to ripple pensively, if such a thing can be done, Don't digest them, they taste terrible.
 
"Got it, I-" My eyes widened, "What??"
 
The rippling abandoned any pretense to pensiveness and turned into something resembling a belly laugh, assuming a belly could break open and hiss with a snicker now and then, Pinprick is right. You are 'easy', Eel. Don't worry, I don't digest sentients. It's barbaric, and takes forever to trim down again.
 
"Very funny," I said knowing he'd been around long enough to get sarcasm, "Okay, wise guy. Anything else?"
 
They prey on despair, and trade lives like your Earth Businessmen trade stock. They are horrible creatures, and prefer others do the fighting for them, but never assume they will not fight viciously when it seems you are about to deny them profit. They have the zealotry of avarice and see getting as the highest ethical good. If we can find a way to make Earth less profitable for them, they will get mean, but then they may lose interest.
 
"For the want of money is the root of evil, and they sure love their roots," I nodded, "Got it. Thanks, Slime."
With Slime to help me, we covered more terrain than either would have alone. I've got a decent sense of direction and a pretty good memory. Slime seemed to have a kind of spatial awareness that was uncanny. It turned out he could feel vibrations through whatever surface he was clinging to.
 
Eventually, we came to a T shaped branching of the under-ways. I looked left, Slime looked right, and both of us scored paydirt.
Slime didn't really have a front or back, so the side facing me read with the observation, I hear sounds, native Fumian, further down this way. Something about transport of payment.
 
I almost didn't read it, because my eyes were fixed on another direction, where there was a figure I hadn't expected. There was a Fumian, sure. He didn't bother with a holographic disguise, but it was who he was with that surprised me. I knew that Pinstripe suit anywhere. And I surely knew the voice.
Mr. Brute was bargaining with the Fumians.
 
"If this doesn't work, if there are adverse side effects, I will be very cross, you understand?"
"Be at ease, most enlightened of Terrans, we Fumians know the difference between the common customer who do not know quality or the art of bargain, and our elite clientele – such as ourselves. These 'superheroes' as you call them, they seem a grave nuisance."
 
"That is their calling," Mr. Brute said, "Superheroes are rather sad servants of the status quo. They seem to have a deep-seated fear that someone, somewhere, might express ambition in a proactive fashion. I've made a tidy profit leading my own team of, well, they call us supervillains, I prefer to think of us as pest control."
Laughter escaped the Fumian, and I could hear for myself how they did indeed have forked tongues, because the laughter was a hissing sound. But the rest was lost as they continued down the tunnel away from me.
 
Before I could follow, something pulled at me, drawing me to glance back just for a moment, and I saw that Slime was trying to 'talk' to me.
Eel, we need to go this way. The shipment of payment, we must stop it. Whatever they are planning, it cannot be as important.
"You take that, I have to follow this," I told him, "We just have to survey, not engage. It's cool, we just lucked out," I told Slime in a low whisper.
You are making a mistake.
 
Before more words could form, I waved him off, "You're great at sneaking, you'll be fine. I just hope I don't blow this. I've got to find out what Mr. Brute is up to. " And I was off before he could protest further.
Odd for a loner hero to get clingy like that.
With night vision on my side, I felt a lot more secure playing ninja, and sure enough the voices were becoming audible again.
"… so, it's agreed, the moment the temporary version of your reward shows its effects, you will begin to sow chaos among the humans above to distract these New Samaritans by any means necessary. We do not require their deaths, but we will not weep for the loss of such, what did you call them? Pests." They were now walking along an aqueduct, and I saw something glisten in the Fumian's hand ready to pass over to Mister Brute.
 
"Indeed, one of my team was treated curtly by a young man I spared in a fit of, shall we say, curiosity. I don't intend to make that mistake again. I'll kill him for free," Mister Brute said, taking what looked to be an odd looking crystalline packet with something stirring inside of it, "Mmm, interesting, gas form?"
"Only for the temporary version, the final solution is liquid. This will take affect if inhaled, instantly," The Fumian said, then changed the subject back, "And the other superheroes?"
 
"There are many people who would pay very well just for the severed head of Lady Obsidian, for her alive? Quite a fortune. Though it occurs to me perhaps I shouldn't mention that to you. You might go from business associate to rival."
 
Another hiss from the Fumian, "I doubt any human science is of interest to us, your planet has many riches, many rewards, but technology? I doubt it would be of use to us. Though we do love much of your pop culture. Truly, your planet has a rare gift for creating odd mythos and then reusing said material in the most innovative of ways. If one police procedural runs its course, you bring in another much that is almost identical, but this one has an autistic genius who befriends the woman of a less populous demographic and alternative sexual preferences. Together, they fight crime. And the audiences keep coming back even though it is the same plot as the one before it with the two brothers, one a free-spirited sort, the other more traditional in his outlook, both concerned for their father who was formerly on the force and now with a substance abuse problem. You earthlings are masters at repackaging the same in such a way that it seems new. I can admire the sheer audacity of it."
For my part, I was wincing. Sometimes someone can praise you in a way that makes you feel dirty all over. What was next? He was going to ship our reality TV? Then again, I suppose as I had just watched Nicholas Cage do a terrible accent in a movie that was a variation of a classic theme and enjoyed the hell out of it (and not for the first time) I suppose I was part of the problem.
 
And whatever weird poison Apocalyptic was trying to get, I was not about to let Mister Brute get a test run. My eyes narrowed on the prize in Mister Brute's hand.
I didn't have to beat him, I just had to grab it without breaking it, and get to the water. If I got to the water, there would be no way he could catch me. Heck, I might even create a distraction Slime could capitalize on?
 
What the hell did I have to lose?
 
I closed as quietly as I could, and then broke into a flat run. Mister Brute turned, "you?"
"Me," I agreed and feigned a southpaw punch at Mister Brute.
 
He couldn't see in the dark as well as I did, and took me for my word, raising his hand to block and counterpunch.
 
That's when I snatched his prize with the right, heard a click behind me as the Fumian drew a gun, "Later, Brute." And I dived over the edge into the water avoiding the blast.
Mister Brute wasn't so lucky. The Fumian's weapon sent a concentric ring of some strange red energy square into his chest. It didn't seem to hurt Mister Brute, but he grunted, and appeared disoriented, even dizzy for a moment.
 
A moment was more than what I needed. As soon as I struck the water, I was off with a burst of speed that made the water behind me spew high and white.
I tried not to smile as I heard Mister Brute screaming with raw fury.
He even got my name right.
 
"Eel! I will kill you for this! You miserable son of a-"
 
Ah, who was I kidding? I may have tried not to smile, but I ended up grinning from ear to ear. Saving the day is reward enough, but the outraged fury of a foe who has just been thwarted?
That's just gravy.
 
There was no catching me.  I found an exit to the surface, got out, and called on my Communicator. It had been sometime since Valorosa had dropped me off. I didn't know who might be close now, or for that matter, available.
 
"Mabel, I'm surface side again, I need someone with the hover vehicle to pick up something and maybe get me a little back up. The Fumians and Apocalyptic are working together, and I managed to snatch up some kind of alien chemical I think it's meant to be a weapon. I want it studied pronto. It was a snatch and grab. I need help, I need back up, and," I had almost forgotten, "I need to hurry. Slime's down there."
 
"You left Slime alone with Mister Brute?" Mabel sounded alarmed, "And the Fumians saw you? Eel, if they move locations they'll transport their payment to said new location."
"Slime wasn't spotted," I assured her, "he snuck off to see that part to check into the shipment of payment. I was right about Apocalyptic being in town being important, I-"
"Young man," Lady Obsidian's voice popped over the communicator, "Did you not listen to a thing I mentioned about the Fumians? The payment, in this case, includes the parents and siblings of three teenage girls. Oh,  they didn't give the contract a good read it seems, but right now, we're talking seven people ages Twelve to forty-two. And right now? Fumians are probably scrambling to move their 'cargo' and the only individual who has a chance of rescuing them is one amorphous alien you left behind."
I suddenly felt violently ill, "Oh god," I managed, gagging a bit.
 
"Stay where you are, Pinprick and I on our way. Oh, and Eel. Later, we are going to have a very long talk about what the word 'priorities' means," Her tone was tense and borderline scalding.
 
"Yes, Ma'am," I said, turned the communicator off. Seven people, human beings, about to be used as slaves for debt repayment. I mean, she had told me. But I didn't put two and two together. I slipped the crystal weapon in my belt pouch.
 
I'd like to say I spent the next precious minute leaping ahead the others foolishly trying to redeem myself. Or pacing with a just fury and eagerness to get at the foe. Or even just being cool and reserved while waiting it out like a professional.
 
But, in all honesty? I was too busy throwing up.
That feeling in my stomach had gotten to me.

The chances of anything coming from Mars
Are a million to one, he said 
The chances of anything coming from Mars
Are a million to one, but still, they come

(I'm getting closer to the end of the 50,000 but realized it had been awhile since I put anything here so here you go.)
 
 
And I slipped out as the police rushed in.
"Minors involved," I told them, "But the immediate threat is over, and the weapons are gone."
"You guys can't just take evidence," One fellow in blue protested, "Even if you are heroes."
"We didn't," I answered honestly, "It dissolved. Freaky stuff, huh?"
The officer blinked as if trying to visualize that, then moved on past with the others.
 
The other New Samaritans were indeed out in force. The whole team had arrived. Tornado was talking to a female reporter, a pretty one, of course. Pinprick was chatting up a commander of the local SWAT team as if they were old drinking buddies, which maybe they were. Arctic Fox has put ice walls up to block said media from swarming some of the kids who had fled the school earlier and had a look in her eyes that indicated that she was not such a respecter of the fourth estate that she wouldn't be willing to make someone wear an ice cube from neck to toes if they tried to ignore that boundary. 
 
Fortunately, the police had some therapists on site talking to the children already. I imagined a lot of the kids might need one. For that matter, if they could legally proscribe medication for stress, maybe they could set up a small dispensary for the parents of said kids.  I'm pretty sure my parents wish they could sometimes have a hit of something when they heard about me nearly getting myself killed, and I was a grown man.
 
I even saw Valorosa, and she was in a hover cycle! Well, a hovercycle with a side car. Which was amazing, I didn't know we had one of those. I guess that was the spare vehicle that had been hinted at.
 
"Fish Guy, Fish Guy" Various reporters called out.
I ignored them as if I hadn't heard them. This was a policy suggested to me by Pinprick, and it was a good one. He had explained earlier on that reporters would call me what they wanted, until I started denying them what they wanted, which was inside information on super hero news and more. My superhero handle is not Fish Guy, there for I would only respond to the reporters who called out –
 
"Eel" it was that lady reporter who had first arrived on the scene, I turned in recognition as if only now was someone wanting my attention. She didn't waste a minute.
 
"Brianna Freemont, Channel 6 news," She said holding up a microphone close to me, but not obnoxiously in my face, "Can you tell us what transpired inside?"
 
"Due to the age of those all involved," I said cautiously, "I'm not sure I'm at full liberty to talk about anything until I've been debriefed by the police, but I can say no lives were lost today."
 
"What were the kidnappers' demands?" Briana pushed, "What did they want?"
Closure, I wanted to say. Justice at first, but then they got lost and almost settled for revenge.
But answering that way would just stir her interest more, and possibly complicate matters for one or more of the kids.
"The police should have that sorted out in the next few days" was all I said, then I figured I could throw her a bone, "You'll have to excuse me, I need to talk to our newest team member."
 
"Yes, who is she?" Briana inquired as she glanced up at Valorosa in her hovercycle.
 
I shot Ariana a questioning look, and whispered on the com, "Okay if I spill the beans? You didn't get to do anything per se, but at least you didn't get spotted next to a giant chicken."
 
Her laugh on the commlink was both musical and indulging, "Oh, fine. Let her know."
 
"That," I gestured, "is Valorosa, and the New Samaritans are happy to have her," I assured the reporter.
As am I, I thought.
 
"Okay folks," Lady Obsidian's voice broke through the commlink, "Sorry to intrude, but I need Eel to hit the sewers. Water tests were confirmed this morning, clean as a bell. Can anyone give him a lift to the tunnels?"
 
"On it," Valorosa said, "I know the location of the entrance, and I've got the vehicle, so I'll just give him a lift. Jump on up, Eel."
"Thanks," I said leaping up as she flew low over me to make it easy, I didn't quite slip into the sidecar, instead giving her hopeful look.
"Great, isn’t it?" She grinned revving the engine.
 
"Yeah," I said, "I bet it is. Ah, would you mind if I?" I looked hopefully at the main seat and tried not to let my dislike of the sidecar show too much.
"Mind if you what?" Ariana inquired, then realization dawned, "Oh, you're kidding. You want me to move to the sidecar while you drive?"
"Well, you know, since you mention it," I said sheepishly, "Maybe?"
 
Valorosa rolled her eyes and muttered something in Spanish. It is habits like that that encourage me to learn it by the way. She's a bit too quick to retreat into the language I don't speak when I've clearly annoyed her but she's not going to say it in English where I might have a chance at rebuttal.
 
I gave her the big eyes.
 
"Well, it will have to be later," She reminded me, "I'm supposed to drop you off at the aqueduct and since I know the way better, I need to be the one driving."
"Fair enough," I sighed looking at the driver's seat hungrily as I slipped into the sidecar.
 
Jokingly, she sniffed, "I remember when you used to look at me like that."
 
"Yeah," I pointed out with a grin, "It was yesterday."
 
She laughed. God, it was good to hear that musical chime again, close to me. Ariana's laughter was like the soundtrack to joyful scenes in the movie of my life.
 
"Of course, if we're talking you, the vehicle and riding, I- " I pushed my luck.
 
She blushed, shook a finger at me in a 'no no no' gesture, and then gunned the engine to drown me out in case I really did want to say something suicidal today. That's my girl, keeping me out of trouble.
 
Something occurred to me, "Hey, this thing makes sounds like a classic hawg," I blinked.
 
"I suppose it does," She said as we shot over the streets, "You like it or hate it? It has a mute button for stealth operations and noise pollution I guess."
 
"I like it, of course," And I did, "I just wonder why it has it at all?"
 
"Oh, Lady Obsidian left it in, knowing certain macho members of the team would have fun with it, and probably pout if it made wimpy little high-pitched whir sounds instead," Another fond smile.
 
"Certain macho members would," I conceded, "And I bet someone else helped her with that decision."
 
She blushed again, then said, "Well, in all honesty, I did push hard for It for rather selfish reasons."
 
"Yeah?" I grinned at her, "Like the sound, do we?"
 
"It's the principle of the thing," She said as we slowed down over the tunnel area they'd investigated earlier, "Drop on down and take the grate there, you can't miss it."
"Sure, thanks for the lift," I got ready to jump, then turned to her, "The principle of the thing?"
 
She said to me with an absolutely triumphant smile, "Yeah, the principle. Anything I put between my legs, damn well better give me a low thundering moan of appreciation."
I think I lost track of time and space for a moment there, I certainly lost focus on how to balance as I fell out of the hovercycle's sidecar and flat on my back.
 
"Eel," She called out. The mask she wore did not fully hide the myriad mix of emotions playing across her. She was somehow worried for me, blushing with embarrassment, and wickedly pleased with herself all at the same time. It was only a twenty or so foot fall after all. I could land on my head from that and not be endangered.
 
"I may have gotten distracted by something you said," I confessed as I got to my feet, sheepishly.
"Dork," Her blush was ablaze now.
"Male and no apologies for it," I told her with a grin.
"Get to work, Casanova," She pointed in the direction of the grate she had told me about, "And be careful."
"Si," I told her, miming blowing her a kiss.
And her eyes grew gentle, and the smile softened and remained, "Remember to come into an area where you can make radio contact every two hours."
"Will do," I promised as I lifted the gate, and went into the tunnels.

What he said is exactly what he's legally obligated to do. The linked article doesn't share the exact questions he was being asked, but it seems to me he was dealing with a persistent and annoying line of questions from someone.
 
Let's look at what he actually said:
 
 
The headline doesn't tell the whole story, it's just click bait. The General is 100% in the right. He isn't acting rebelliously, he's telling someone how his job works, and what his legal obligations are.

"The turtle moves!"