Hermit

Okay, I'm sorting through a few ideas for my table top group, which we'll probably never have time to play anyway, but I wanted some opinions on if any of these appealed to folks in general. So, in a 'shared origin' selection for a Champions game, which of these would appeal most to you? (Yes, there will be a poll) Each has some inspiration from one source (or many sources) or another. I'm sure you'll recognize a few The Baddest Blood- (Teen Champions) Some say Project Good Apple should never have gotten approval. Supervillains rarely make good parents, but that doesn’t' stop them from procreating. Rather than immediately transfer the children of supervillains to the foster system and wait for them to possibly inherit powers and become villains themselves, some Smartguy in Primus had the idea of letting a select few agents raise the very young ones as their own through adoption. At the least, it was a hope that the kids would have a better chance to grow up right than usual. At the best, some hoped it would lead to a new generation of registered superheroes that were a lot more willing to work with the government than many of the maverick teams of the time. Budget cuts happen, former agents start to become true parents who aren't as crazy about their kids being fast tracked to a life of violence even for a fed job, and somehow, Good Apple and its kids got lost in the shuffle. You're in your early teens, and you and your fellow PCs are about to learn they aren't just gifted, they get those gifts from the baddest blood. The Color of Survival- (Champions) When a modern day terrorist cell discovers notes on something that killed with light and has a maybe twelve percent survival rate, they figure it's radioactive or something, and that's fine with them. They set the bomb to go off during a concert, and it does, in a cascade of lights of all the colors of the rainbow. The terrorists have unwittingly used a device meat to grant powers not kill. Fashioned by the villain Prism, it was how he made his supervillain Spectrum (See the Excellent Champions Presents #1). That was the 80s. Prism now serves four consecutive life sentences in Stronghold along with most of his buddies. However, few can survive the effects of it, and few did. Out of a nearly hundred people there, only a dozen survived. The survivors were also transformed forever. Some more obviously than others, but each gained powers along with a tendency towards a particular hue. For those who are not too badly deformed, it might be a dream come true- Except, of course, for the ugly fact any family and friends they came with likely died horrible deaths while they didn't. Some of the NPCs may become villains yet, others may just want to pick up what they can of their lives and grieve. The PCs? There are terrorists out there to capture, victims to avenge. Justice first, grief after, and a whole lot of survivor's guilt in between Iconic Man checked the Donor Box- (Champions) You've been on the waiting list for an organ transplant for a while. Truth to tell, you were getting worried. Then, in anbotherwise dark time (One of the cities most beloved superheroes had died) you got the go ahead. A man had passed away, and his organs were going out. Maybe you got a kidney, a lung, or even a heart? The important thing is, you had a new chance at health! The transplant was surprisingly smooth, recovery time was swift. And then? Then you began to develop superpowers! You see, Iconic Man was one of those shapeshifting super strong telepaths with freaky supervision you hear about. You have just one of those aspects. But the other organ recipients? They've gotten his other powers, and, you appear to be able to talk to each other in your heads through a funky mind link. None of you are as powerful as Iconic Man was, but when the city still faces his old foes? Maybe you owe it to the man who saved your lives to work together, as a team? Terra Force Reunited- (Champions) During the 80s, there was horrible and cheesy attempt to make a Superhero themed TV show. With outdated special effects, cheesy lines, and let's be honest, not the greatest acting, it was a modest success and ran for two years. The actors split up after the show, and while one or two went on to bigger things, most of them had to settle for weaker and weaker parts, and some just quit show biz entirely. Meanwhile, in a highly advanced planet, the lessons of Terra Force, about truth, honor, justice and the Terran way have become a part of their culture mainstay! It has revolutionized their planet over the last two years. It took a while for the signals to reach. Space probes were sent out to find out what happened to their heroes, only to learn the horrible truth. This, Terra Force, practically, a religion to the aliens now, was based on mere pretense? Did this mean their ethics were now a lie? No! said one brave scientist of that world. There was a way to make it right, to make it true! The Actors were found, and 'borrowed' for a time, when they woke up, each one of them was young again, with the same powers they had on the show, and released back onto Earth! With rediscovered youth, super powers, and warp bypass transmission devices implanted in their brains, a group of very confused actors can only wonder what happened and what will they do now? Meanwhile, the Aliens in question have no idea they have just exchanged a Cheesy early 80s show for a new Reality one. All involved are in for quite the learning process. Each Player plays a character who was a former actor, and they can talk it over with the others which ones are still loved by obscure fandoms, moved on to 'real roles', or just shucked it all to help sell used cars back in their home town.

Give the guy points for Chutzpah I guess

"Hey, suspect, my incriminating evidence is just as good as anyone else's, better even!'

About a 101 for me

Hit my 50,000 mark Story probably needs at least another 15000, but hey

If they'd found the drugs they could have made up other charges because hey, who you gonna believe? Folks with suspicious stuff on them are horrible people and the cops can say what they want about them..

(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.

I missed my calling???

Thought I was alone in that. Disney is wanting Marvel level franchising from Star Wars. I'm not sure it's really going to work quality wise, but who knows?

Nope. They've come in a lot of variety (And props to Marvel for that as they have done 70s style Espionage thrillers, to Heists, to Space Opera etc) so not yet. Now, Police and Crime Dramas on TV? If they stopped making those for a 3 year break I'd be quite happy.

(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.

And here I thought this would be a scenario about a fifty foot tall giant turkey and the galloping Galooper Good luck on your games. And Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours in return

Ha! Sorry, I weakened But let's be honest, six million isn't going to go as far on bionics as it used to

For a time they did. Jake 2.0 was an underrated show

Pariah will be the one delivering the boom tomorrow.

Thank you for understanding. Now, let us go back to exploring the truly important questions like... why are guys named Steve doomed to have trouble in planes?

Pariah's answer to that question later in the hallway was "What folks with few metachlorians get" He didn't get an A either

I Mod Hat: Let's play nice and not go with the insults just because someone disagrees. As far as I am aware, direct insults are still something I'm supposed to step on. Maybe someone doesn't think Antifa is all that great an organization, it doesn't mean they're profacist, any more than someone not liking some Men's rights groups automatically makes them a misandrist.

Yup. Like I said, Racism in that movie is portrayed as idiotic, and the racists as idiots. As they should be.

Hopefully we'll be able to post at least as much as a twitter.

Missed a day. Plot kind of falling apart in some ways.

This applies to more than movies so... in general: Context needs to include details like the time period, maybe a brief mention of what was going on in the current history. War Propaganda, for example, even when you're the 'good guys' (ala the Allies in WW2) is rarely going to be nice to the enemy nor too concerned with their feelings. You need context to explain things like that, even if you feel it will never excuse it. Then comes the big challenge of who decides what is too offensive? Blazing Saddles uses racist language, and that may outrage some despite the fact part of the whole theme is how racism is idiotic and racists are idiots. There are some who want to ban Huckleberry Finn because, in my opinion, they completely miss the substance of the message because of the style of how it is delivered. I know the slippery Slope argument has it's flaws, but I do think that there are some dangerous precedents to deciding that if something has warts, it cannot see the light of day ever, and certainly cannot be enjoyed. I can admire Thomas Jefferson's contributions to this country without approving of his owning slaves. I can laugh at Kentucky Fried Movie while realizing that A Fistful of Yen is the very poster child for "Funny but WRONG". I'd hate to see either TJ's works or Kentucky Fried Movie banned entirely, and not just because returning the Louisiana Purchase at this stage of the game would be a #####. Okay, that's not likely to happen, but it seems to me there is a danger in demanding pristine perfection and modern day morality from all creators of the past and their creation. So, speaking for myself, I'll err on the side of being offended and walking away from something when I find it so rather than suggesting it be forbidden from even consideration by mature adults who have to decide for themselves where they draw their own lines. I detest the term "trigger warnings" but yes, if you feel something is dubious, put a warning on it for others (Though I myself tend to take dates themselves as a kind of warning) and try to provide a little summary context. Of course, things get more complicated when you talk about what you want your kids to see or not see. One person's "Absolutely not" maybe another's "They need to see this"

Micromanagers are so damn annoying, mostly because they get really really petty when called on it.

Our security chief has had two episodes focus on her. I've enjoyed both. Her conversation with her parents had me very thoughtful. Is she looked down on just for joining the military, or was she already considered somehow mentally deficient and they were telling her despite that challenge she didn't have to resort to her job? Either way, it is an interesting bit on her background

So far, the majority of posters on the board who have seen Justice League have mentioned liking it, some a great deal. I think there are like 5 of us, which is not a good sign for its success.