Hermit

That does seem to be a large part of the message. Trust humanity (and other human like species) to work themselves out somehow for the better, even if it takes centuries.

https://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2017/12/15/571124649/wife-of-kentucky-lawmaker-who-killed-himself-plans-to-run-for-his-seat

Thanks, looking forward to the input

Image's Invincible might work for you

Well, then both darn and you're welcome

It certainly does. I'm very grateful for feedback and opinions.

Huh. There is no My Little Pony homage in the CU is there? We should have a thread for that sometime to encourage folks. Though is the world really ready for the evil mastermind "Professor Brony!"?

Fuel for the magic cube! Thank you!

The Nimbles (Speedsters and Martial artists and so on) The last group had been restless, in retrospect, maybe saving the quick movers for last was a mistake. Patience wasn't a virtue among their set. "Why, hello there," was a purr as a woman suddenly was in front of him. It was Haste, he'd heard of her, and despite his protests to his brother about this not being a gathering of a harem, he had to admit, any man would be tempted. Whether she was the prettiest woman in the lot or not, Haste sure knew how to use what she had. Now how she kept what she had from flying out as she ran past the speed of sound was a mystery to him. The cleavage window was cut of her skin tight black costume to resemble a kind of Winged H. The shorts and boots showed her legs off to great effect, and the touches of red helped off set the black. Of course, the crimson on her costume wasn't nearly as glorious as her hair which had a ringlet effect (did it straighten when she hit certain speeds he wondered?). "Hi, Haste. Cutting in line?" He asked. "Bored," she confessed, "Why don't you save yourself the time and send the other two home? Then vote for your brick and 'other'. You know I'm your girl." "Uh huh," Requiem was overconfident, but he wasn't stupid, "Honestly Haste, you'd be a shoo in probably, but I'm not crazy about what I hear about some of the enemies you've made? ARGENT?" "Please, I paid them off months ago, that's why I need a team up. Snatch and run works well for me, but I need bigger scores," A wink, "And more fun." "The others get their turn too, Haste," Requiem told her. Manipulative, but damn her powers would be so useful, and free Frost up so he wouldn't have to the one to track fleeing enemies down all the time. He had to think about it. "And you are?" He said to the next applicant. The fellow looked tall and well muscled, his costume resembled something out of a wrestling program with bare chest with many tattoos from torso to arms, a tightly shorn head with a domino mask and a part of athletic shorts with a large buckled belt and combat boots. "Name's Cheap-Shot," the guy grinned, "Got it from a superhero. Pretty sure he meant it as an insult, but I liked it. I'm a strong guy with an edge" Requiem raised a brow, "You're in the nimble category how?" And with that, Cheap-Shot shrunk to roughly six inches tall but instead of being below, now hovered in the air, "Because I like to hit them when they don't know I'm coming, and I'm shrunk down like this. It gives me an edge. They have a hard time hitting me, but I can slap them around all day. You can always use another Brick, right? Well, here is yours truly." Requiem nodded, "Handy, and you're just as tough shrunk down like that as you are when full grown?" "Sure, as hell am," Cheap-Shot said. The last applicant was a guy in some sort of bronze monkey mask and Kung fu style outfit carrying a staff with bronze ends, "And you go by Mad Monkey?" Requiem wasn't crazy about the name or the motif, what was so scary about monkeys? "No, I go by my shadow, my shadow goes by Mad Monkey," The martial artist grinned and then flipped himself upon the staff, his bare toes somehow holding him in place as he somehow balanced perfectly, "Very hard to hit me. My shadow claims I desert it." "And how did you get your training?" Requiem inquired. Martial artists were a mixed bag. For every legit threat out there at the Green Dragon level, there was some putz wanna be who could be overwhelmed by a coordinated girl scout troop. "I watch lots of old Jackie Chan movies," Monkey grinned. "Can you break concrete blocks with your bare fists?" Frost said, impatient. "No, I can break concrete blocks with my monkey fists though. Bear fists are for bears," Mad Monkey answered "Mostly, I am nimble. I evade, I dodge, dip, dive, duck, and dodge. And I taunt foes. You wish a decoy? I will be as annoying as if I were banging two brass cymbals together. Dangerous things, Symbols, they can mean so much." "Greeaat," Frost said, not sold. Requiem was considering it though. He'd seen footage of this making well trained PRIMUS units look like Keystone cops. "Lots to think over," Requiem said, and pulled out the cube. With this, their luck might turn around. It would see things he didn't see and he muttered, "Advise me." And hoped to hell the numbers that scrolled along the surface symbols would make sense.

The Unusual Approach The Exotics were up next, for want of a better term, and the first to come forward had both brothers raising their eyebrows. She looked bi racial, perhaps half Japanese half anglo, and while it was hard to tell her age, it couldn't be much above eighteen. Her hair was in fantastic rainbow spray, a true mane of it that went down her back like a pony tail of chromatic shine. And there was glitter, so much glitter. On her sailor girl type outfit and skirt, on her skin, and hovering about her. A sparkling design of a pony rampant was on her lower torso. "Hi! I'm Glitter Pony!" She said "Tada!" "What the –" Frost started to say. "Is this a joke?" Requiem frowned. "No, I'm really a supervillain," She pulled out an envelope and handed it to Requiem. Cautiously he turned it upside down, letting some glitter fall out, then opened it up. The recommendation was from the villain he had invited, but it appeared the man had declined and sent Glitter Pony in his place with a note that she was unorthodox, but might be just what they needed for versality. She had been of great help on a caper. "Okay, besides glitter? What do you do?" He asked her. "Well," She gave a whirling spin and glitter went everywhere. "I can't see" more than one voice cried out. "So bright, so colorful, so so girly" Another. "Okay so," Requiem waited until he could see again "A temporary blinding attack, that's useful. What else?" "My Glitter glue ! Clumps and clumps and they get weighed down" Glitter Pony gestured at a trash can and it was embedded in a large wad of sparkly shiny rainbow gunk, "See?" "I see. And anything else? Do you fly?" "Yes! Trailing my glitter, and I can also use my glitter attack to make folks clumsy, or just knock them out!" Glitter Girl smiled, "I'm like a vampire. It's okay for them to sparkle now." "No," Someone from the other applicants, Requiem couldn't tell who, muttered, "It's not, and it never was." "Flashes and tangles and drains, oh my! " Glitter Pony began to skip, "Flashes and tangles and drains oh my! Flashes and tangles and-" "We get it," Requiem said. No denying the usefulness of this one, but damn she was annoying. Hard call. Fortunately, there were others to see. The next potential was a fellow who couldn't be more different. He wore the classic black cloak with cowl combo so favored by mystics, and there were silver designs of occult nature along the trim of those and the vest under it and a pair of black slacks to match. In one hand, he held a bottle of booze, and while most of his face was hidden, his grey streaked goatee was in need of a trim, "I am Doc Reprobate, mystic types always call themselves Doctor right?" He grinned clearly on a buzz. "Well, 'Doc'," Frost said, "How often do you plan to self-medicate?" Others had had beers, but looked like the Doc had bought his own. Requiem didn't bother to chastise his brother this time, he had a point. They didn't need someone drunk during a caper. "I can handle Spirits worse than this," The man assured, "I've dealt with magic so black it'd make your wand shrivel if you knew about it. Now? I'm looking for some more standard mundane evil, ye olde fashioned crimes. I hear you guys are the ones wanting to make it happen," Doc said, "Now, you'll want to know what I do? I'll tell you. I can open up gates through hell's back yard to help whisk us away. I can send surges of torment into the mind that no bulletproof skin will help. I can control the weak willed. I can blast foes with mystic fire, and I can make brave men know fear. And I know the occult. It took a large bite of me when I was young, but I bite back plenty. Magic and me, we know each others' flavors," Doc broke into a laugh. Requiem let loose a whistle and held out the cube, "so you know what this does?" "Ah, get that thing away from me," Doc snapped, "you really think that cube is- nevermind. Yeah, they can see hear everything we're doing, sniffing right into our souls. Well, don't say I didn't warn em" Doc took a swig. "Right," Requiem wasn't sure how blitzed the wizard was, but backed away to look a the last of the exotic types. "Name's Cat's eye" Said the young man, who didn't look much older than Glitter Pony. His own costume was a leather jacket over a T-shirt with a cat's eye design on it, matching leather pants, and a pair of shades. Young Millennials, Requiem sighed, It was like they didn't even try anymore, "I heard of you, mentalist right?" "Why Cat's eye? Why not Mindstorm or Scatte-" Frost stopped himself before blurting out that name. "I don't know, man, you tell me," the young man took off his shades and the odd golden eyes that did indeed have a feline cast to them looked on. "Oh, I get it then," Frost finished lamely. Requiem considered him, the kid seemed stable, "Okay, what's your story?" "Mom got knocked up by some Mandaarian or something like that," Cat's Eye shrugged, "I can mentally zap, control folks, read thoughts, but when I'm done they almost always realize what I did so I can't be as sneaky as I like. Figure if I join up with some fellow villains they can run interference for me. Of course, I hear you got your last mentalist killed so…" Requiem's jaw set and he got nose to nose with the mentalist, "Be.Very.Careful. Some heroes screwed things up, and our team died. Yeah, but they don't mention half of what happened in the news so don't assume for a moment Frost or I bear all the blame on that one. Now, in case we run into robots, or superheroes with 'strong will' and there are a lot those, you got anything else?" Cat's Eye looked him over then "My suit's reinforced and I uhm.. borrowed a gun," He pulled back his jacket to show a carbine blaster. "Wait, is that a Primus officer's gun??" Frost noticed the make and model, then broke out laughing "Okay, punk kid maybe worth something." "We'll see," Requiem fought a smile. The Speedsters and Nimble Types were up.

The Bricks! The first one to come up was a woman with purple skin with dark hair, she towered roughly nearly eight-foot tall, and wore a green and black one piece. The Lavender beauty's bare feet stomped as she explained herself. "Me Am Ogress! Ogress strong! Ogress tough! Ogress prove to other villains she not merely feminine derivative of masculine counterpart! Rar!" She bellowed. Requiem blinked at that last one, "Yeah, we've met Ogre, the guy thinks we're bullies, so if you have any loyalty-" He was dubious. "Ogress not hate bullies. Ogress want BE Bully! Ogress show Agency by terrorizing others with superior physicality!" "I can't tell if she's stupid or just smart but with bad grammar," Requiem muttered to Frost. Frost was looking her over, "She fills out the suit nice, and if she's nearly as tough as Ogre, well, no denying she's got muscle. And she likes pushing people around, so that's fun." "Something to consider," Requiem said, "We heard about the pounding you gave Sapphire Centurion in Topeka. Nice work." "Ogress say thank you to future team leader, Ogress promise not to resent patriarchal implications of chain of command if Ogress shown respect." Then the big woman stepped back to let the next applicant forward. The next applicant was definitely an Asian Guy who looked about what, five foot two? The man wore a costume of blue and brown, the brown mostly in the leggings but jutting up in a triangular pattern on his torso. Frost raised a brow, "Dude, we're not calling for the martial artists yet." Requiem shot his brother a look, and then said "Phou Bia, right?" "Right," The man said, "You want a brick? I'm your guy. The toughest roughest Laotian American you'll ever meet." "So, your family is from Le Ocean?" Frost blinked, "You don't look French." "Laos, it's a land locked country in Asia?" Phou Bia said a bit testily, "It's part of my heritage. To honor it, I take the name of one of its mountains. Also suits my power." And then the little man began to grow, and grow until he hit the ceiling of the meeting area, "The bigger I get, the stronger I get! You want muscle? Here is is, several tons of it." "Your strength and durability tied to your growth?" Requiem inquired. "Yeah so?" The man said. "Could make you kind of vulnerable in tight spaces is all, but it's something to consider, thanks," Requiem said, "Why did you turn to crime?" "Communism," Phou Bia said. "I thought so-what?" Requiem blinked. Whatever he thought the guy was going to say, that wasn't it. "Communists. I hate communism. America? Now that's the land of opportunity. And Crime is the ultimate Randian dream! I'm a go getter, a self starter, and I hope to show people in America and Laos what a dedicated financially ambitious like myself can do. You could say I'm in it for the money, but it's more than that, I need to show folks that greed, greed is good. That –" "Stop, I think I've seen this movie," Frost said. "Okay, so thanks for that," Requiem said. The next applicant looked to be all robot. In intimidating black metal, with a single sensor plate that would be almost cyclopean if not for it's more rectangular shape, it was equal in height to Ogress but fair bulkier with knobs and rivet like designs. "I am Omni-Droid," The Figure boomed, "A fully sentient and sapient robot warrior. I wish to experience what you organics refer to as 'the thrill'. Battles with superhumans seem a most logical way to test my capacity and energize my sensory relays. I bear no organics no particular ill will, nor do I desire to be one. I merely wish 'a piece of the action'. I am strong, durable, and I have the power of flight, high tech senses, and my enhanced proto-tronic brain is amazing. I calculate with me by your side, Deathstroke will have a 51.6% efficiency increase." "Dude, what if Mechanon takes over it's brain?" Frost said worriedly. "You think Mechanon needs to take over Omni-Droid to be a threat to us?" Requiem looked to his brother. "We're good, but come on. I wonder.." He spoke up "You are technology, are you any good with it?" "I am versed and can hack," Omni-Droid answered after a time. "We'll let you know," Requiem said, and moved onto the next group.

Deathstroke Tryouts "Relax, bro, it's going to work this time, I mean, who protects Minneapolis?" Frost told his brother. "Even this city has superheroes," Requiem snarled, "And after that incident in Vegas…" "Yeah, half the 'supervillains' who showed up where in drag, the other were Elvis impersonators," Frost exaggerated, but not by much, "Then the Saints come up and kick all their asses and we barely escape. You know, we should put those guys on 'the List'." 'The List' was getting pretty long over the years, and Requiem would love nothing better than to make each and every person on it pay, but right now? He'd settle for four or five members to finally help he and his brother restore Deathstroke to its former glory, or better! They had had an uncharacteristic bit of luck of late. About a week ago, the two had been walking in street clothes with hoodies trying to figure out how to get supervillains to show up for membership. Hotel fees and transportation could be a bear, and as Frost pointed out, they really should have some brewskis nearby. That's when Foxbat, of all people, had landed near them, handed them a duffle bag, and said "You look like honest faces. Here, hold onto this. It's all part of my…dare I say it, Master Plan." And fled. Shortly there after some superheroine using very unlady like language flew overhead looking for the nutbar. Inside the duffle bag? One Million dollars! Unmarked. Requiem knew what he had to do. Before his brother could lose it at a card game or on floozies, Requiem made two investments. One to pay for his membership drive? The other? Well, that one was a gamble too. He had gotten mystical help to make sure this time, this time the recruitment well. The thing was a cube, six sides and all. Odd Runes on it that said stuff that made no sense, like Def, Ocv, and one side that had the letters COM crossed out. The mystic he had brought it from told him it would give him advise from 'those beyond' in making his selection. Could have been bunk, but the mystic had a good rep for being relatively honest, and Requiem figured it couldn't hurt. "Hey, there are some hot chicks out there," Frost said noticing the crowd of applicants that had gathered (Most lured by free room and board for the week), "Let's get one of those." "We're assembling Deathstroke, not a Harem," Requiem snorted, "We're going for whoever will work best with us, and this time? I even have an edge. Now, be cool, and follow me," the leader of the team of two moved out to greet the others. "I'm always cool," Frost muttered, and slipped out with him. "Okay, if I can have your attention?" Requiem said, "You're here because you know there's strength in numbers. And whatever else you might have heard about Deathstroke, we once held the power of destruction on a city wide scale in our hands. What you've been sent to show here is just a taste of what we'll be earning through our crimes." "How did you get the money anyway?" One guy asked. "Talent, planning, dedication, and perseverance," Requiem lied smoothly, not about to mention that a lunatic had handed it in their laps, "Now, we need a strong guy…" "Hey" One female voice spoke up. "Or Girl," he corrected. "Hey!" Another female voice. "Or woman" he corrected trying not to roll his eyes. "Ahem," came a nebously gendered voice. "God, I miss the 20th century," Frost muttered. Requiem ignored that ahem. This was a villain gathering, damn it, not a college campus, and went on, "Someone tough, strong, or to put in common terms- a Brick. Now, we run into a lot of so called 'heroes' who are way beyond bullet proof either thanks to ultra tough skin, forcefields, or whatever. So we also want someone with unusual attacks. Be it mystical, mental, or some kind of life draining thing- barring that, maybe something that slows folks down. Lastly, we'd like someone with a bit of mobility, someone who can keep up with all those damn speedsters and kung fu types. So I've sectioned you off into different niches, and using this mystic cube which will give me the wisdom of those beyond the invisible wall" He held up the cube, "I will then select." "Where did you get the cube?" One guy asked. "A creepy mystic guy with a solid rep," Requiem said. "The one in Toledo?" "No, Des Moines" "Oh, he is good, I hear," One other applicant opined. "So glad you approve, so, get into your group, step forward, and let's hear your pitch on who you are and why you deserve to be part of what will be the greatest supervillain team ever." OOC: That's right. It's a poll. Each candidate for each group. You may break the fourth wall and 'advise' Requiem of who he should take by casting your vote. There will be what is said and what Requiem notices, and there will be spoilers of hidden problems Requiem doesn't know about. Note, there nothing saying those beyond the wall have to HELP them. Suggest who you want to suggest to mess them up if you prefer that to aiding them. Please read the next three sections and see which ones you like as you play the helpful or not so helpful adviser from beyond

Are you kidding? For all the talk of Free trade and competitive marketplace, the last thing any corporation in the us WANTS is competition. What you have are instead agreed upon chunks of turf in different large swathes between a few. A good metaphor might be having the city you live in cut up by Mafia bosses each claiming they offer protection, and if you complain to the cops about the shake down you find out they've been on the take from the crimelords for a long long time.

Yeah. I half way expected there to be a return to "Eventually we built our own robotic overlords as is proper."

I hate December. Wish I could say other months will be better but at least with them I'm not expected to go around jolly

I don't, I may one day. I hope to eventually publish these books formally. You guys h ave been something of a reading group for me. And I'm grateful. Oh, and I did get distracted recently by another project, and put up some ideas for Deathstroke tryouts in the Champions thread

Wonder if the companies will be dumb enough to get greedy right away, or wait awhile and then screw folks over bit by bit over the next few months?

I have mixed feelings about this.

Ooop, right. my bad. Corrected. Thanks

The Democrats and liberals are having a party. I Hope they keep their celebration in check. This was not Alabamans being Pro-Democrat, this was enough Alabamans being Anti-Moore. Unless Jones has a very good and really wows the state, this is likely his first and LAST term if the GOP runs anyone better than Moore for the next election for the position. I predict Jones is going to be a bit hemmed in by Realpolitick on some matters if he hopes to have any chance to get reelected. Then again he may go 'damn the torpedoes' and go full tilt and settle for that one term. But then again, I was wrong last night, I could be wrong here. A lot can change in a few years. A chunk of of the generation of the most elderly Alabamans may pass away in those years (Sorry to be cold blooded about it). and an amazing out pouring of African American voters just showed their strength.and while they were not enough to do make Jones happen by themselves they sure as hell seemed a solid backbone or the effort wouldn't have walked let alone stood. If young people and minorities alike are re--energized for more than a flash in the pan this could indeed be a sea change. But I really do advise against treating this like a Democratic success when it was (IMO) a judgement on Moore. EDIted: Need to remember term was atypical. Doh. Thanks Ternaugh

Well, barring some horrible recount mix up, it looks like I was wrong. And Lord I am glad I am! nice save, Alabamans

"You can always count on Americans to do the right thing - after they've tried everything else."- Winston Churchill

As of this post, Moore is refusing to concede

I hope so. I would LOVE to be wrong.

"LIVE RESULTS: As of 9:41 p.m., Roy Moore leads Doug Jones 53.0 percent to 45.6 percent with 64.0 percent of precincts reporting."- Politico I wish I could say I am surprised. I hope for a turn around but I think Moore is going to win.