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Hermit

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  1. Like
    Hermit reacted to Logan D. Hurricanes in In other news...   
  2. Like
    Hermit reacted to Pariah in Reading Rainbow: the March 2020 Superdraft   
  3. Like
    Hermit reacted to Badger in I have a dream. (and MAN was it wierd!)   
    My mind is trying to create the devil's menagerie this week.  2 dreams so far with monsters.
     
    1) Evidently, I was leaving work one night.  Encountered a teenage girl and 2 young siblings running from something.  What was chasing them evidently some kind of living shadow got to me.  It apparently wasn't satisfied with invisibility to sight.  It has some kind of sonic attack it would use (got a sense it used partly from a sadistic nature) that would disorient its prey when near, so it couldn't know which direction was which or where the attack was coming from.  It then put me in some kind of trance just before right when it was going to attack ( I was seeing the Vger background from ST when the Klingons were attacking for whatever reason in the trance.) Anyway right before it attacked, I got grabbed by the teenager, and at least temporarily saved.  Luckily, while running for it, we encountered some gang.  And the monster decided to go after them first.  The first one was seemingly levitated, and then rapidly "shot" by "sonic bullets" until their bodies seemed somewhat pulverized by devoured in shadow.  (which would have been me, if I was saved a fraction of a second later).  By the time, it started on the 2nd one, we ran for it. Hid amongst some big rocks, where seemingly it couldn't find us with sonics until sunrise. In the dream, it was learned it was a demon summoned by a witch of some sort.
     
    2) Went hunting with a dog,  encountered something glowing behind the remains of some brick building in the woods.  An 8-ft red gorilla, and it was radiating heat/fire  (think Balrog*, in the LOTR movie a few years ago).  It attacked, I got some burns on my chest, the dog was burned worse, but we escaped.   Evidently, in the next couple of days, the National Guard was called out. Although hunting had been forbidden until it was found.  I was p!ssed over the dog's injuries.  So, feeling well enough (maybe determined enough) I set out to track it down.  This put me at odds when encountering a squad of 6-7 of the Guard.  But, the thing attacked,  had a perfect shot through the scope at the skull.  But, it seemed to bounce off like the "char" it had created was some kind of suit of armor.  So, we all ran for it.  And everytime looking back, due to it being mad, it was setting everything afire within a radius.  (woke up)
     
    So, Sonic Shadow Demon and the Hell-Gorilla.
     
    *Maybe, I should have tried "you shall not pass"
  4. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from Lawnmower Boy in Things that should be in fortune cookies   
    "Amazing Grace and the theme song of Gilligan's Island are pretty much interchangeable lyrics and tune wise. Later, you will drop your guard and test this statement" 
  5. Thanks
    Hermit got a reaction from Matt the Bruins in Political Discussion Thread (With Rules)   
    Wow, Bloomberg really a lot of the audience on his side...
     
    *Looks at $1750 dollar price tag on each ticket* 
    Oh
     
  6. Haha
    Hermit reacted to Zeropoint in In other news...   
    RELEASE THE QUACKIN'!
  7. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from assault in The Adventures of "Fish Guy" (Superhero fiction)   
    Oh thank goodness it got a like, the needy cup of my ego was near empty!
     

  8. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from assault in In other news...   
    So many great band names possible by taking words from this headline
  9. Haha
    Hermit got a reaction from Sociotard in In other news...   
    Well, I knew sparrows wouldn't be signing up.
  10. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from Starlord in In other news...   
    So many great band names possible by taking words from this headline
  11. Haha
    Hermit got a reaction from Pariah in In other news...   
    I have a beard to cover the fact I have a chin so weak Frank Burns would laugh at me
     
     
  12. Like
  13. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from Lawnmower Boy in The Adventures of "Fish Guy" (Superhero fiction)   
    The more things change, I thought as I strode through the bus station. How many years ago had I arrived after a long bus ride to find Pinprick waiting for me. I was way too young to get nostalgic, but I looked back at the moment fondly. My God, I was green back then. As then, I wore a costume now. I lacked Pinprick's advantage (if you can call being permanently shrunk an advantage) so everyone definitely noticed me. 
     
    The reaction, that was different. I was known to the public now, a superhero who had saved Costa Sagrado, or at least swathes of it, repeatedly. People even bought T-shirts with my logo on it (Though, Tornado was quick to point out his merchandise was more popular), and I smiled as I saw one ten year old boy with his mouth open who was wearing one now. I nodded at him, and looked about.
     
    I heard the mutters "It's Eel."
    "The Fish Guy?"
    "Yeah, he fought a giant chicken once, I #$## you not."
     
    I knew that I'd never fully shake off the Fish Guy commentary with the public, though I had made progress with certain newsmen, but really? The giant chicken is where they go to when they remember my exploits? Oh, well, I didn't come here for the glory.
    In my head I could almost imagine Pinprick saying something like "Oh then so far, great job."
     
    Was I already missing his sarcastic jibes, or had a weird sort of Stockholm syndrome set in?
     
    Still, most of the reactions were positive, and that was cheering. Uplifting even. I don't care what line of work, or calling you're in; it's nice to have your efforts noticed and appreciated. The team did good work, and the locals were proud to call us their own.
     
    But when I first came to this bus stop? Well, I was the object of indifference at best, and scorn was not unheard of. Now it was my turn to pick up a new guy, one who couldn't hide himself easily, and probably felt as lost and out of his depth as I had. Well, we'd build up Hussar's confidence and make him feel welcome soon enough. That's why I was here.
    "Can I feel?" A woman's voice caught my attention. It was so eager and interested, I didn't even have to look to visualize bright eyes and fascination in the as yet unknown woman's expression.
     
    "Sure, let me move the old chain mail," This time a man's voice, and I hear something that sounded like a slight clinking. I turned just as two or three women started to coo, and saw Hussar. He had stripped off his costume's top (Though the mask, painted like a wrestler's designs wasn't coming off) and bared his admittedly cut chest allowing the crowd of young women to touch his chest. His wings spread triumphantly, and frankly, the whole posture reminded me of a rooster one of my great uncles had purchased as he introduced himself to the hens. 
     
    "God, your'e so cut," One girl declared after her hands roamed over him.
    "He is," Another agreed
    .
    I? I was feeling a bit uncomfortable at this. Envious? maybe, but geez, there were families around here and this was starting to look like cheap jazz music was about to begin.
     
    Hussar went on, "Super-strength, it's pretty common, but sometimes it leaves you deformed so, there's that going for me. I still work out though, gotta stay competitive, got to even out the toning." He said as if explaining a very important life tip.
     
    "Sure don't look deformed to me," One brunette declared.

    Others purred agreement.
     
    And, I discovered I had gained the power of metaphorical invisibility. Not a single soul was looking at me right now. And I suppose that made sense. While I'm not sure how masculine good looks are judged by women, I could safely say that Hussar cut an impressive figure. And the white and gold wings were fascinating.
    Still, what am I? Chopped Tuna?
     
    "Hussar," I declared in a loud, clear, voice, "You ready to go?"
     
    "Eel?" He said as his eyes focused on me, then he smiled, and looked to the women around him, "Sorry, ladies, looks like the New Samaritans need me to save the day."
     
    "You're joining the Sammies?" One girl gushed, clearly a local as she was using the nickname.
     
    I arched a brow. Technically he was training with the Sammies, not joining us, and I wondered how much I should let slide out of the unspoken guy code that you don't crush another guy's swagger in front of women he is trying to impress unless he's up to no good.
     
    "Maybe," Hussar shrugged, "I'm checking them out, scouting around. But you know heroes, we go where we're needed. They need me, I'm here."
    Now I really was wishing Pinprick was around. If anyone could check the gathering ego storm, it was him. So I asked myself something I have to say was not my usual mantra?
    What would Pinprick do?
     
    "Sure do," I said with a smile, and as he looked even smugger, and the girls looked more enraptured, I added, "Got at least two toilets backed up at the base, and that's trainee work if I ever saw it. Let's go."
    There is very little sexy about the term 'backed up toilet', and one could see the light of feminine libido dim if not outright die in the faces of the three women who up to that point were devoted groupies.
    Then, before he could protest, I turned and walked towards the vehicle, trusting he would follow.
    Behind me, I could hear him saying "He's joking, he's just joking .. I'm oh #$#$ he's going, see you girls around."
    "Maybe," One said with no enthusiasm whatsoever as I continued my walk to one of the team vehicles awaiting us.
    I fought a smile at that. 
    I heard the flap of wings behind me, and could tell Hussar had caught up by the time said vehicle was lowering for easy access. I got in the driver's seat, and he slide into the passenger side looking vexed.
    Good word, vexed.
    "Not cool, man," He said, "not cool."
    "Well, I figured with all the bull you were slinging, you'd be an expert at backed up $#**," I told him, "Now turn your headlights off and relax. It's one thing for you to strut, but you try to make the Sammies sound like your sidekicks? that I have a problem with."
    He glowered, but started to put the faux Chain-mail shirt back on "I was just trying to impress girls, you know how it is."
    I did, in fact, know how it was. I had been rather shameless at one pool introduction, though in my defense I didn't recall putting anyone else down to make myself stand taller at the time.
    Instead of saying that, I ordered him, "Check your shirt, make sure no one planted anything on it while it was off."
    "What?" He blinked.
    "Trackers, mini-mics or cameras, that sort of thing," I told him, "You'd be surprised how paranoia can be practical in our line of work. 
    You maybe bullet proof, but a degree of secrecy for you and your team can be the best defense of all."
     
    "You're kidding," Hussar protested, but while he protested he flipped over the shirt he had almost put on, looked around. Nothing fell out, except for a slip of paper with a phone number.
    "Hey," He brightened at that last, "Guess you didn't kill my chances with all of them."
     
    I had forgotten to stop channeling Pinprick and quipped, "Well, there's always room for improvement," Then realizing I was probably being too harsh, I decided to throw him a bone, "Lady Obsidian thinks you have the material to be a good superhero. That's enough for me to give anyone a chance, but the New Samaritans are my team. I know you're used to being a loner, but you'll find if you get a team of your own one day that creates some pretty strong bonds."
     
    Between the mention of Lady O vouching for him, and the phone number of at least one girl, Hussar had eased up, "I guess. I hear you guys are the the toughest team on the West Coast. Pretty much cleared crime out of the city."
     
    "Super crime is down a lot," I said as we flew over the city, "but even that pops up now and then, and no one can stop all crime of all kinds. We try to discourage super crime, violent crime, and robbery in roughly that order, and everyone helps fight fires or with rescue operations. On those later, you'll want to listen to the firemen and rescue crews- take their lead." 
    I noticed with a bit of a smile that he was rubber-necking. Sure, he could fly on his own, but the city was new to him. I wondered if it was the biggest city he'd ever been in? I doubted it, Chicago wasn't that far away from where he was raised, right? Still, as cities go, Costa Sagrado wasn't small, and it had it's own style.
     
    "You'll get a tour later, learn the lay out of the city, which neighborhoods need help most and so on," I continued, "You all will. The people of Costa Sagrado are good folk over all, like anyone else look after the folks they care about, make ends meet as best they can, and blow off a little steam now and then. You might want to learn Spanish, it's the second most used language here and will allow you to help more citizens, but it's not required. I-" Then I noticed he wasn't really looking at the city anymore, nor was he listening to me.
     
    He was texting away on a phone, and judging by his smile, it was to the girl who had given him that number.
     
    The ghosts of a hundred manner enforcing aunts and grand aunts rose up in me in all the Southern Ire, and I felt a strong urge to tilt the vehicle hard to the side. Instead, to get his attention, I said , "The radiation will sadly shrink your genitalia." 
    I figured that might catch Hussar's attention as that's what he was clearly thinking with.
    His head whipped around "Say what now?"
    "I was saying, don't bring your phone to orientation, team meets, or training sessions," I gave him a look I normally served for criminals dumb enough to pull a small caliber gun on me. The sort of look that says 'whatever device you next use will be your lunch'.
    Hussar huffed, but he put the phone away, and crossed his arms in what seemed to me some petulant body language, "Great, a thousand plus heroes in the world and my mentor is Captain Buzzkill."
    "Captain was taken," I said, thinking of Valerosa and flew us on to the base. I could only hope the other rookies wouldn't have this much attitude.
  14. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from BoloOfEarth in The Adventures of "Fish Guy" (Superhero fiction)   
    The more things change, I thought as I strode through the bus station. How many years ago had I arrived after a long bus ride to find Pinprick waiting for me. I was way too young to get nostalgic, but I looked back at the moment fondly. My God, I was green back then. As then, I wore a costume now. I lacked Pinprick's advantage (if you can call being permanently shrunk an advantage) so everyone definitely noticed me. 
     
    The reaction, that was different. I was known to the public now, a superhero who had saved Costa Sagrado, or at least swathes of it, repeatedly. People even bought T-shirts with my logo on it (Though, Tornado was quick to point out his merchandise was more popular), and I smiled as I saw one ten year old boy with his mouth open who was wearing one now. I nodded at him, and looked about.
     
    I heard the mutters "It's Eel."
    "The Fish Guy?"
    "Yeah, he fought a giant chicken once, I #$## you not."
     
    I knew that I'd never fully shake off the Fish Guy commentary with the public, though I had made progress with certain newsmen, but really? The giant chicken is where they go to when they remember my exploits? Oh, well, I didn't come here for the glory.
    In my head I could almost imagine Pinprick saying something like "Oh then so far, great job."
     
    Was I already missing his sarcastic jibes, or had a weird sort of Stockholm syndrome set in?
     
    Still, most of the reactions were positive, and that was cheering. Uplifting even. I don't care what line of work, or calling you're in; it's nice to have your efforts noticed and appreciated. The team did good work, and the locals were proud to call us their own.
     
    But when I first came to this bus stop? Well, I was the object of indifference at best, and scorn was not unheard of. Now it was my turn to pick up a new guy, one who couldn't hide himself easily, and probably felt as lost and out of his depth as I had. Well, we'd build up Hussar's confidence and make him feel welcome soon enough. That's why I was here.
    "Can I feel?" A woman's voice caught my attention. It was so eager and interested, I didn't even have to look to visualize bright eyes and fascination in the as yet unknown woman's expression.
     
    "Sure, let me move the old chain mail," This time a man's voice, and I hear something that sounded like a slight clinking. I turned just as two or three women started to coo, and saw Hussar. He had stripped off his costume's top (Though the mask, painted like a wrestler's designs wasn't coming off) and bared his admittedly cut chest allowing the crowd of young women to touch his chest. His wings spread triumphantly, and frankly, the whole posture reminded me of a rooster one of my great uncles had purchased as he introduced himself to the hens. 
     
    "God, your'e so cut," One girl declared after her hands roamed over him.
    "He is," Another agreed
    .
    I? I was feeling a bit uncomfortable at this. Envious? maybe, but geez, there were families around here and this was starting to look like cheap jazz music was about to begin.
     
    Hussar went on, "Super-strength, it's pretty common, but sometimes it leaves you deformed so, there's that going for me. I still work out though, gotta stay competitive, got to even out the toning." He said as if explaining a very important life tip.
     
    "Sure don't look deformed to me," One brunette declared.

    Others purred agreement.
     
    And, I discovered I had gained the power of metaphorical invisibility. Not a single soul was looking at me right now. And I suppose that made sense. While I'm not sure how masculine good looks are judged by women, I could safely say that Hussar cut an impressive figure. And the white and gold wings were fascinating.
    Still, what am I? Chopped Tuna?
     
    "Hussar," I declared in a loud, clear, voice, "You ready to go?"
     
    "Eel?" He said as his eyes focused on me, then he smiled, and looked to the women around him, "Sorry, ladies, looks like the New Samaritans need me to save the day."
     
    "You're joining the Sammies?" One girl gushed, clearly a local as she was using the nickname.
     
    I arched a brow. Technically he was training with the Sammies, not joining us, and I wondered how much I should let slide out of the unspoken guy code that you don't crush another guy's swagger in front of women he is trying to impress unless he's up to no good.
     
    "Maybe," Hussar shrugged, "I'm checking them out, scouting around. But you know heroes, we go where we're needed. They need me, I'm here."
    Now I really was wishing Pinprick was around. If anyone could check the gathering ego storm, it was him. So I asked myself something I have to say was not my usual mantra?
    What would Pinprick do?
     
    "Sure do," I said with a smile, and as he looked even smugger, and the girls looked more enraptured, I added, "Got at least two toilets backed up at the base, and that's trainee work if I ever saw it. Let's go."
    There is very little sexy about the term 'backed up toilet', and one could see the light of feminine libido dim if not outright die in the faces of the three women who up to that point were devoted groupies.
    Then, before he could protest, I turned and walked towards the vehicle, trusting he would follow.
    Behind me, I could hear him saying "He's joking, he's just joking .. I'm oh #$#$ he's going, see you girls around."
    "Maybe," One said with no enthusiasm whatsoever as I continued my walk to one of the team vehicles awaiting us.
    I fought a smile at that. 
    I heard the flap of wings behind me, and could tell Hussar had caught up by the time said vehicle was lowering for easy access. I got in the driver's seat, and he slide into the passenger side looking vexed.
    Good word, vexed.
    "Not cool, man," He said, "not cool."
    "Well, I figured with all the bull you were slinging, you'd be an expert at backed up $#**," I told him, "Now turn your headlights off and relax. It's one thing for you to strut, but you try to make the Sammies sound like your sidekicks? that I have a problem with."
    He glowered, but started to put the faux Chain-mail shirt back on "I was just trying to impress girls, you know how it is."
    I did, in fact, know how it was. I had been rather shameless at one pool introduction, though in my defense I didn't recall putting anyone else down to make myself stand taller at the time.
    Instead of saying that, I ordered him, "Check your shirt, make sure no one planted anything on it while it was off."
    "What?" He blinked.
    "Trackers, mini-mics or cameras, that sort of thing," I told him, "You'd be surprised how paranoia can be practical in our line of work. 
    You maybe bullet proof, but a degree of secrecy for you and your team can be the best defense of all."
     
    "You're kidding," Hussar protested, but while he protested he flipped over the shirt he had almost put on, looked around. Nothing fell out, except for a slip of paper with a phone number.
    "Hey," He brightened at that last, "Guess you didn't kill my chances with all of them."
     
    I had forgotten to stop channeling Pinprick and quipped, "Well, there's always room for improvement," Then realizing I was probably being too harsh, I decided to throw him a bone, "Lady Obsidian thinks you have the material to be a good superhero. That's enough for me to give anyone a chance, but the New Samaritans are my team. I know you're used to being a loner, but you'll find if you get a team of your own one day that creates some pretty strong bonds."
     
    Between the mention of Lady O vouching for him, and the phone number of at least one girl, Hussar had eased up, "I guess. I hear you guys are the the toughest team on the West Coast. Pretty much cleared crime out of the city."
     
    "Super crime is down a lot," I said as we flew over the city, "but even that pops up now and then, and no one can stop all crime of all kinds. We try to discourage super crime, violent crime, and robbery in roughly that order, and everyone helps fight fires or with rescue operations. On those later, you'll want to listen to the firemen and rescue crews- take their lead." 
    I noticed with a bit of a smile that he was rubber-necking. Sure, he could fly on his own, but the city was new to him. I wondered if it was the biggest city he'd ever been in? I doubted it, Chicago wasn't that far away from where he was raised, right? Still, as cities go, Costa Sagrado wasn't small, and it had it's own style.
     
    "You'll get a tour later, learn the lay out of the city, which neighborhoods need help most and so on," I continued, "You all will. The people of Costa Sagrado are good folk over all, like anyone else look after the folks they care about, make ends meet as best they can, and blow off a little steam now and then. You might want to learn Spanish, it's the second most used language here and will allow you to help more citizens, but it's not required. I-" Then I noticed he wasn't really looking at the city anymore, nor was he listening to me.
     
    He was texting away on a phone, and judging by his smile, it was to the girl who had given him that number.
     
    The ghosts of a hundred manner enforcing aunts and grand aunts rose up in me in all the Southern Ire, and I felt a strong urge to tilt the vehicle hard to the side. Instead, to get his attention, I said , "The radiation will sadly shrink your genitalia." 
    I figured that might catch Hussar's attention as that's what he was clearly thinking with.
    His head whipped around "Say what now?"
    "I was saying, don't bring your phone to orientation, team meets, or training sessions," I gave him a look I normally served for criminals dumb enough to pull a small caliber gun on me. The sort of look that says 'whatever device you next use will be your lunch'.
    Hussar huffed, but he put the phone away, and crossed his arms in what seemed to me some petulant body language, "Great, a thousand plus heroes in the world and my mentor is Captain Buzzkill."
    "Captain was taken," I said, thinking of Valerosa and flew us on to the base. I could only hope the other rookies wouldn't have this much attitude.
  15. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from Lucius in The Adventures of "Fish Guy" (Superhero fiction)   
    The more things change, I thought as I strode through the bus station. How many years ago had I arrived after a long bus ride to find Pinprick waiting for me. I was way too young to get nostalgic, but I looked back at the moment fondly. My God, I was green back then. As then, I wore a costume now. I lacked Pinprick's advantage (if you can call being permanently shrunk an advantage) so everyone definitely noticed me. 
     
    The reaction, that was different. I was known to the public now, a superhero who had saved Costa Sagrado, or at least swathes of it, repeatedly. People even bought T-shirts with my logo on it (Though, Tornado was quick to point out his merchandise was more popular), and I smiled as I saw one ten year old boy with his mouth open who was wearing one now. I nodded at him, and looked about.
     
    I heard the mutters "It's Eel."
    "The Fish Guy?"
    "Yeah, he fought a giant chicken once, I #$## you not."
     
    I knew that I'd never fully shake off the Fish Guy commentary with the public, though I had made progress with certain newsmen, but really? The giant chicken is where they go to when they remember my exploits? Oh, well, I didn't come here for the glory.
    In my head I could almost imagine Pinprick saying something like "Oh then so far, great job."
     
    Was I already missing his sarcastic jibes, or had a weird sort of Stockholm syndrome set in?
     
    Still, most of the reactions were positive, and that was cheering. Uplifting even. I don't care what line of work, or calling you're in; it's nice to have your efforts noticed and appreciated. The team did good work, and the locals were proud to call us their own.
     
    But when I first came to this bus stop? Well, I was the object of indifference at best, and scorn was not unheard of. Now it was my turn to pick up a new guy, one who couldn't hide himself easily, and probably felt as lost and out of his depth as I had. Well, we'd build up Hussar's confidence and make him feel welcome soon enough. That's why I was here.
    "Can I feel?" A woman's voice caught my attention. It was so eager and interested, I didn't even have to look to visualize bright eyes and fascination in the as yet unknown woman's expression.
     
    "Sure, let me move the old chain mail," This time a man's voice, and I hear something that sounded like a slight clinking. I turned just as two or three women started to coo, and saw Hussar. He had stripped off his costume's top (Though the mask, painted like a wrestler's designs wasn't coming off) and bared his admittedly cut chest allowing the crowd of young women to touch his chest. His wings spread triumphantly, and frankly, the whole posture reminded me of a rooster one of my great uncles had purchased as he introduced himself to the hens. 
     
    "God, your'e so cut," One girl declared after her hands roamed over him.
    "He is," Another agreed
    .
    I? I was feeling a bit uncomfortable at this. Envious? maybe, but geez, there were families around here and this was starting to look like cheap jazz music was about to begin.
     
    Hussar went on, "Super-strength, it's pretty common, but sometimes it leaves you deformed so, there's that going for me. I still work out though, gotta stay competitive, got to even out the toning." He said as if explaining a very important life tip.
     
    "Sure don't look deformed to me," One brunette declared.

    Others purred agreement.
     
    And, I discovered I had gained the power of metaphorical invisibility. Not a single soul was looking at me right now. And I suppose that made sense. While I'm not sure how masculine good looks are judged by women, I could safely say that Hussar cut an impressive figure. And the white and gold wings were fascinating.
    Still, what am I? Chopped Tuna?
     
    "Hussar," I declared in a loud, clear, voice, "You ready to go?"
     
    "Eel?" He said as his eyes focused on me, then he smiled, and looked to the women around him, "Sorry, ladies, looks like the New Samaritans need me to save the day."
     
    "You're joining the Sammies?" One girl gushed, clearly a local as she was using the nickname.
     
    I arched a brow. Technically he was training with the Sammies, not joining us, and I wondered how much I should let slide out of the unspoken guy code that you don't crush another guy's swagger in front of women he is trying to impress unless he's up to no good.
     
    "Maybe," Hussar shrugged, "I'm checking them out, scouting around. But you know heroes, we go where we're needed. They need me, I'm here."
    Now I really was wishing Pinprick was around. If anyone could check the gathering ego storm, it was him. So I asked myself something I have to say was not my usual mantra?
    What would Pinprick do?
     
    "Sure do," I said with a smile, and as he looked even smugger, and the girls looked more enraptured, I added, "Got at least two toilets backed up at the base, and that's trainee work if I ever saw it. Let's go."
    There is very little sexy about the term 'backed up toilet', and one could see the light of feminine libido dim if not outright die in the faces of the three women who up to that point were devoted groupies.
    Then, before he could protest, I turned and walked towards the vehicle, trusting he would follow.
    Behind me, I could hear him saying "He's joking, he's just joking .. I'm oh #$#$ he's going, see you girls around."
    "Maybe," One said with no enthusiasm whatsoever as I continued my walk to one of the team vehicles awaiting us.
    I fought a smile at that. 
    I heard the flap of wings behind me, and could tell Hussar had caught up by the time said vehicle was lowering for easy access. I got in the driver's seat, and he slide into the passenger side looking vexed.
    Good word, vexed.
    "Not cool, man," He said, "not cool."
    "Well, I figured with all the bull you were slinging, you'd be an expert at backed up $#**," I told him, "Now turn your headlights off and relax. It's one thing for you to strut, but you try to make the Sammies sound like your sidekicks? that I have a problem with."
    He glowered, but started to put the faux Chain-mail shirt back on "I was just trying to impress girls, you know how it is."
    I did, in fact, know how it was. I had been rather shameless at one pool introduction, though in my defense I didn't recall putting anyone else down to make myself stand taller at the time.
    Instead of saying that, I ordered him, "Check your shirt, make sure no one planted anything on it while it was off."
    "What?" He blinked.
    "Trackers, mini-mics or cameras, that sort of thing," I told him, "You'd be surprised how paranoia can be practical in our line of work. 
    You maybe bullet proof, but a degree of secrecy for you and your team can be the best defense of all."
     
    "You're kidding," Hussar protested, but while he protested he flipped over the shirt he had almost put on, looked around. Nothing fell out, except for a slip of paper with a phone number.
    "Hey," He brightened at that last, "Guess you didn't kill my chances with all of them."
     
    I had forgotten to stop channeling Pinprick and quipped, "Well, there's always room for improvement," Then realizing I was probably being too harsh, I decided to throw him a bone, "Lady Obsidian thinks you have the material to be a good superhero. That's enough for me to give anyone a chance, but the New Samaritans are my team. I know you're used to being a loner, but you'll find if you get a team of your own one day that creates some pretty strong bonds."
     
    Between the mention of Lady O vouching for him, and the phone number of at least one girl, Hussar had eased up, "I guess. I hear you guys are the the toughest team on the West Coast. Pretty much cleared crime out of the city."
     
    "Super crime is down a lot," I said as we flew over the city, "but even that pops up now and then, and no one can stop all crime of all kinds. We try to discourage super crime, violent crime, and robbery in roughly that order, and everyone helps fight fires or with rescue operations. On those later, you'll want to listen to the firemen and rescue crews- take their lead." 
    I noticed with a bit of a smile that he was rubber-necking. Sure, he could fly on his own, but the city was new to him. I wondered if it was the biggest city he'd ever been in? I doubted it, Chicago wasn't that far away from where he was raised, right? Still, as cities go, Costa Sagrado wasn't small, and it had it's own style.
     
    "You'll get a tour later, learn the lay out of the city, which neighborhoods need help most and so on," I continued, "You all will. The people of Costa Sagrado are good folk over all, like anyone else look after the folks they care about, make ends meet as best they can, and blow off a little steam now and then. You might want to learn Spanish, it's the second most used language here and will allow you to help more citizens, but it's not required. I-" Then I noticed he wasn't really looking at the city anymore, nor was he listening to me.
     
    He was texting away on a phone, and judging by his smile, it was to the girl who had given him that number.
     
    The ghosts of a hundred manner enforcing aunts and grand aunts rose up in me in all the Southern Ire, and I felt a strong urge to tilt the vehicle hard to the side. Instead, to get his attention, I said , "The radiation will sadly shrink your genitalia." 
    I figured that might catch Hussar's attention as that's what he was clearly thinking with.
    His head whipped around "Say what now?"
    "I was saying, don't bring your phone to orientation, team meets, or training sessions," I gave him a look I normally served for criminals dumb enough to pull a small caliber gun on me. The sort of look that says 'whatever device you next use will be your lunch'.
    Hussar huffed, but he put the phone away, and crossed his arms in what seemed to me some petulant body language, "Great, a thousand plus heroes in the world and my mentor is Captain Buzzkill."
    "Captain was taken," I said, thinking of Valerosa and flew us on to the base. I could only hope the other rookies wouldn't have this much attitude.
  16. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from Ternaugh in What Are You Listening To Right Now?   
  17. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from pinecone in The Adventures of "Fish Guy" (Superhero fiction)   
    The more things change, I thought as I strode through the bus station. How many years ago had I arrived after a long bus ride to find Pinprick waiting for me. I was way too young to get nostalgic, but I looked back at the moment fondly. My God, I was green back then. As then, I wore a costume now. I lacked Pinprick's advantage (if you can call being permanently shrunk an advantage) so everyone definitely noticed me. 
     
    The reaction, that was different. I was known to the public now, a superhero who had saved Costa Sagrado, or at least swathes of it, repeatedly. People even bought T-shirts with my logo on it (Though, Tornado was quick to point out his merchandise was more popular), and I smiled as I saw one ten year old boy with his mouth open who was wearing one now. I nodded at him, and looked about.
     
    I heard the mutters "It's Eel."
    "The Fish Guy?"
    "Yeah, he fought a giant chicken once, I #$## you not."
     
    I knew that I'd never fully shake off the Fish Guy commentary with the public, though I had made progress with certain newsmen, but really? The giant chicken is where they go to when they remember my exploits? Oh, well, I didn't come here for the glory.
    In my head I could almost imagine Pinprick saying something like "Oh then so far, great job."
     
    Was I already missing his sarcastic jibes, or had a weird sort of Stockholm syndrome set in?
     
    Still, most of the reactions were positive, and that was cheering. Uplifting even. I don't care what line of work, or calling you're in; it's nice to have your efforts noticed and appreciated. The team did good work, and the locals were proud to call us their own.
     
    But when I first came to this bus stop? Well, I was the object of indifference at best, and scorn was not unheard of. Now it was my turn to pick up a new guy, one who couldn't hide himself easily, and probably felt as lost and out of his depth as I had. Well, we'd build up Hussar's confidence and make him feel welcome soon enough. That's why I was here.
    "Can I feel?" A woman's voice caught my attention. It was so eager and interested, I didn't even have to look to visualize bright eyes and fascination in the as yet unknown woman's expression.
     
    "Sure, let me move the old chain mail," This time a man's voice, and I hear something that sounded like a slight clinking. I turned just as two or three women started to coo, and saw Hussar. He had stripped off his costume's top (Though the mask, painted like a wrestler's designs wasn't coming off) and bared his admittedly cut chest allowing the crowd of young women to touch his chest. His wings spread triumphantly, and frankly, the whole posture reminded me of a rooster one of my great uncles had purchased as he introduced himself to the hens. 
     
    "God, your'e so cut," One girl declared after her hands roamed over him.
    "He is," Another agreed
    .
    I? I was feeling a bit uncomfortable at this. Envious? maybe, but geez, there were families around here and this was starting to look like cheap jazz music was about to begin.
     
    Hussar went on, "Super-strength, it's pretty common, but sometimes it leaves you deformed so, there's that going for me. I still work out though, gotta stay competitive, got to even out the toning." He said as if explaining a very important life tip.
     
    "Sure don't look deformed to me," One brunette declared.

    Others purred agreement.
     
    And, I discovered I had gained the power of metaphorical invisibility. Not a single soul was looking at me right now. And I suppose that made sense. While I'm not sure how masculine good looks are judged by women, I could safely say that Hussar cut an impressive figure. And the white and gold wings were fascinating.
    Still, what am I? Chopped Tuna?
     
    "Hussar," I declared in a loud, clear, voice, "You ready to go?"
     
    "Eel?" He said as his eyes focused on me, then he smiled, and looked to the women around him, "Sorry, ladies, looks like the New Samaritans need me to save the day."
     
    "You're joining the Sammies?" One girl gushed, clearly a local as she was using the nickname.
     
    I arched a brow. Technically he was training with the Sammies, not joining us, and I wondered how much I should let slide out of the unspoken guy code that you don't crush another guy's swagger in front of women he is trying to impress unless he's up to no good.
     
    "Maybe," Hussar shrugged, "I'm checking them out, scouting around. But you know heroes, we go where we're needed. They need me, I'm here."
    Now I really was wishing Pinprick was around. If anyone could check the gathering ego storm, it was him. So I asked myself something I have to say was not my usual mantra?
    What would Pinprick do?
     
    "Sure do," I said with a smile, and as he looked even smugger, and the girls looked more enraptured, I added, "Got at least two toilets backed up at the base, and that's trainee work if I ever saw it. Let's go."
    There is very little sexy about the term 'backed up toilet', and one could see the light of feminine libido dim if not outright die in the faces of the three women who up to that point were devoted groupies.
    Then, before he could protest, I turned and walked towards the vehicle, trusting he would follow.
    Behind me, I could hear him saying "He's joking, he's just joking .. I'm oh #$#$ he's going, see you girls around."
    "Maybe," One said with no enthusiasm whatsoever as I continued my walk to one of the team vehicles awaiting us.
    I fought a smile at that. 
    I heard the flap of wings behind me, and could tell Hussar had caught up by the time said vehicle was lowering for easy access. I got in the driver's seat, and he slide into the passenger side looking vexed.
    Good word, vexed.
    "Not cool, man," He said, "not cool."
    "Well, I figured with all the bull you were slinging, you'd be an expert at backed up $#**," I told him, "Now turn your headlights off and relax. It's one thing for you to strut, but you try to make the Sammies sound like your sidekicks? that I have a problem with."
    He glowered, but started to put the faux Chain-mail shirt back on "I was just trying to impress girls, you know how it is."
    I did, in fact, know how it was. I had been rather shameless at one pool introduction, though in my defense I didn't recall putting anyone else down to make myself stand taller at the time.
    Instead of saying that, I ordered him, "Check your shirt, make sure no one planted anything on it while it was off."
    "What?" He blinked.
    "Trackers, mini-mics or cameras, that sort of thing," I told him, "You'd be surprised how paranoia can be practical in our line of work. 
    You maybe bullet proof, but a degree of secrecy for you and your team can be the best defense of all."
     
    "You're kidding," Hussar protested, but while he protested he flipped over the shirt he had almost put on, looked around. Nothing fell out, except for a slip of paper with a phone number.
    "Hey," He brightened at that last, "Guess you didn't kill my chances with all of them."
     
    I had forgotten to stop channeling Pinprick and quipped, "Well, there's always room for improvement," Then realizing I was probably being too harsh, I decided to throw him a bone, "Lady Obsidian thinks you have the material to be a good superhero. That's enough for me to give anyone a chance, but the New Samaritans are my team. I know you're used to being a loner, but you'll find if you get a team of your own one day that creates some pretty strong bonds."
     
    Between the mention of Lady O vouching for him, and the phone number of at least one girl, Hussar had eased up, "I guess. I hear you guys are the the toughest team on the West Coast. Pretty much cleared crime out of the city."
     
    "Super crime is down a lot," I said as we flew over the city, "but even that pops up now and then, and no one can stop all crime of all kinds. We try to discourage super crime, violent crime, and robbery in roughly that order, and everyone helps fight fires or with rescue operations. On those later, you'll want to listen to the firemen and rescue crews- take their lead." 
    I noticed with a bit of a smile that he was rubber-necking. Sure, he could fly on his own, but the city was new to him. I wondered if it was the biggest city he'd ever been in? I doubted it, Chicago wasn't that far away from where he was raised, right? Still, as cities go, Costa Sagrado wasn't small, and it had it's own style.
     
    "You'll get a tour later, learn the lay out of the city, which neighborhoods need help most and so on," I continued, "You all will. The people of Costa Sagrado are good folk over all, like anyone else look after the folks they care about, make ends meet as best they can, and blow off a little steam now and then. You might want to learn Spanish, it's the second most used language here and will allow you to help more citizens, but it's not required. I-" Then I noticed he wasn't really looking at the city anymore, nor was he listening to me.
     
    He was texting away on a phone, and judging by his smile, it was to the girl who had given him that number.
     
    The ghosts of a hundred manner enforcing aunts and grand aunts rose up in me in all the Southern Ire, and I felt a strong urge to tilt the vehicle hard to the side. Instead, to get his attention, I said , "The radiation will sadly shrink your genitalia." 
    I figured that might catch Hussar's attention as that's what he was clearly thinking with.
    His head whipped around "Say what now?"
    "I was saying, don't bring your phone to orientation, team meets, or training sessions," I gave him a look I normally served for criminals dumb enough to pull a small caliber gun on me. The sort of look that says 'whatever device you next use will be your lunch'.
    Hussar huffed, but he put the phone away, and crossed his arms in what seemed to me some petulant body language, "Great, a thousand plus heroes in the world and my mentor is Captain Buzzkill."
    "Captain was taken," I said, thinking of Valerosa and flew us on to the base. I could only hope the other rookies wouldn't have this much attitude.
  18. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from pinecone in The Adventures of "Fish Guy" (Superhero fiction)   
    What had been meant to be a farewell party turned into a sortie, with Lady Obsidian and the crew set to go in a few hours instead grabbing their gear and starting up their transport right away. 

    The full details would come later, but to nutshell the situation? A police officer had mouthed off to a supervillain and insulted his mother while trying to demand compliance. I don't know if the cop was nuts, just fed up, a rookie, or an idiot. Not only did the villain break both his legs, he then proceeded to the police station that officer was assigned to, and brought it crumbling down. Someone there was on the ball and told everyone to get the hell out before the ceiling began to fall on them, but there were still casualties and several injured. The exact tally I'd get later.
     
    This is the nightmare for so much of the populace. Mouth off to one guy, and he doesn't just hurt you (Or kill you) but destroys your work place of raging spite and you can't do anything about it? The fear that generates is both understandable, and dangerous in its own right. I've seen extremists on all sides say things like "Put superheroes in charge" and, on the other end, "Genetic testing for all, and draft/sterilize the freaks". It comes to the same thing, fear of the loss of control and looking for quick fixes. You do not want supers to be God-Kings of your cities, trust me. I know superheroes, brave and moral ones, who forget to pay their water bills. You do not want those noble yahoos to handle a city's budget.  And do I really need to go into the immorality of enslaving any minority or just plain wiping them out?
     
    Historically, and satirically, that latter tends to lend you the not so proud mantle of 'the baddies', but the world wants simple solutions. Hell, I want simple solutions. I am in a calling where I literally can make the world a better place by punching people. If I thought about it too much, I might have to concede why some folks envy superheroes. I mean, it does inspire a very petty part of the imagination.
     
    Looks like the stockholders want to deny us our Christmas bonuses this year but upper management isn't getting any cuts at all.

    No problem, I'll go beat their asses with their own golf clubs!
     
    Great! Good luck at the negotiations then! Have fun!
     
    You know I will!
     
    But the world doesn't work that way, it can't really. We wouldn't want it to if we thought about it.  The world has nuance, and complexities, and points of view. Facts are facts, but truths are trickier to pin down. Mayo, a good friend of mine, once told me I should thank people for letting me rescue them.
    I've had a lot of time to think about that, on and off, and it has slowly sunk in.
     
    A chance to do the right thing, without equivocation, without complication, is, in some ways a gift. One too many of us spurn even when we do have the  means.
     
    There is something about staring at an untouched cake and a cooler with a plethora of coke and beer cans ignored within that makes one feel a touch philosophical. I was not alone, of course, others had shown up to send them off. Viewpoint, Pogo, Valerosa and even Slime.
    But with one announcement, we were half of what we were, who we were, and I wasn't the only one staring at untouched cake.
     
    "Well," Pogo finally said, in a tone that indicated she needed someone to say something, "This isn't a fun party at all."
     
    That actually got a few chuckles from the lot of us.
     
    "So," Viewpoint said, looking at Valerosa and myself curiously, "What's the plan?"
     
    "Huh?" Ariana turned, "Why are you asking me?"
     
    Because, Slime scrolled, answering for Viewpoint, You are the team leaders now.
     
    I gave my girlfriend a look. Not the one that said I got your back, or whoops brain fart. Nope, the look was simply to let her know that, until Viewpoint had said something: I had forgotten that too.
     
    She nodded, and seemed to gain strength from it. Nothing like a slip shared to make you feel a wee bit less embarrassed, then she answered, "Trainees are coming in tomorrow and both Eel and I need to meet them, which means we need you guys to take up our slack, such as it is." She sounded a little apologetic.
     
    "Good news is," I said in what i hoped was firm but supportive, "Our own city remains relatively villain free, with a few exceptions. And the dark forces that be probably won't realize we've split the team until tonight's news, and even they won't know it's now the new status quo. I think we can afford to stagger our shifts, Pogo and Viewpoint, you guys try to get seen just a bit more often, reassure the populace. Slime? I hate to say it but, well, biases."
     
    It's okay, the words rolled along his surface, I understand you humans are intimidated by my natural good looks. Envy, it's a helluva drug.
     
    Another spat of chuckles escaped us, it looked like the tension that had built up from having half our number reduced was on the ease. 
     
    "Fine, Viewpoint and Pogo get seen by the public, Slime sees whose going where they aren't, and the two Co-Captains are on standby as we talk to the trainees. We'll sort out schedules or shifts more formally later, " I nodded at Ariana to see if she was cool with that.
     
    She was, and added, "Do not hesitate to call us if you need us or even think something weird we need to know has arisen. Much as we want to help the rookies learn, our priority is still helping our fellow citizens. Don't worry," Valerosa said, glancing especially at Pogo "We got your back when you need it."
     
    Pogo beamed, "We won't let you down, Cap," eyes bright and energy raring even at this late hour, "I know Viewpoint and Slime might have better senses at night, but I can really get around the city during the day and little will escape the pouncing prowess of Pogo!"
     
    I felt my own pang of envy. Cap was a great nickname for superheroes, attributed to some real winners. I wanted to be a Cap, but at last, I figured now that Pogo had affixed it to Ariana, I was out of luck getting to share the unofficial title.
    Ah well, vanity is ultimately an arrow one aims at one's own ego.

    Or some other faux Zen  thing.
     
    "Then, let's clean this food up, and Slime can take monitor duty if he's okay with it," I asked and Slime immediately bobbed in the approximation of a nod, "While the rest of us rest."
     
    "Our first mission, Cake clean up," Viewpoint said, "Works for me. Keeps me humble."
     
    "Humble? We're the new New Samaritans," Pogo exclaimed, "We're superheroes! We can handle any-"
     
    "Don't jinx us!" Valerosa, Viewpoint, and I blurted simultaneously before she could finish that phrase. Even Slime burbled in alarm.
     
    "Geeze," She said a bit sullenly, "You guys are even more superstitious than my grandmother."
     
    "The grandmother who is old as dirt and still alive?" I countered.
     
    "Yeah," She said cautiously.
     
    "Well," I stated, "Ever wonder how she managed that?"
     
    Pogo, the possessor of pouncing prowess, pouted.

     
  19. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from Ranxerox in The Adventures of "Fish Guy" (Superhero fiction)   
    It was all planned and arranged; we had a big farewell party raring to go for those of the New Samaritans that were going to depart to Port Cascade. A huge ass cake shaped like that city's skyline had been made, big enough that everyone would get at least one piece, and the various beverages were chilled. Decorations were slapped up.
     
    In less than an hour, it was going to be quite a party. 
     
    "Looks good, Mabel," I said, for Mabel had done most of the work. Her database might have been put in a shapely single unit instead of the base itself, but she still had plenty of recipes in her head.It was taking her time to adjust to doing things with her new hands, rather than waldos and other extensions of the headquarters. Every once in a while I caught her cheating, remotely using a waldo as a third (or fourth, or fifth arm) but she gave a warning look daring me to say anything about it, so I didn't.
    First of all, because I'm a Southern Gentleman and I show respect to women in my life. Secondly? She was one of the few people in the city who had a chance of putting me through a wall, literally! And she might even feel guilty about it, after all, an hour in the tub and I'd recover from it fine, right?
    For all the admiration her form inspired, upon reflection I had to give serious respect to the work done on Mabel's face, and it's capacity for expressions. Her lips, eyes, and even nose gave those tell tale expressions that were as much a part of human communication as words. And never having had a face before, she was betraying her mood more than she knew.
     
    She was nervous, possibly scared. But about what?
     
    Well, I couldn't claim to relate to having a brand new body, but I could relate to some other things. Maybe it would help.
     
    "It's okay to be nervous about a big move, you know," I said, " I was, when I came here. Well, I was also excited, but, you know, despite the fact North Carolina actually does have cities and I get snippy about the 'hayseed' jokes,  Costa Sagrado was still a whole new world for me. I had hopes and dreams about this city and showing folks here what I could contribute, but that made the worries about falling on my face all the more tense. When you're a hero, people rely on you. But you've got what I did, support from a great team, and they are going to help you out and cheer you on, Mabel. You'll be great."
    She looked startled, as if wondering where I got telepathic powers from, then gave as close to a blush as possible given her surface tone didn't change color, "I swear I will get the hang of having a face instead of just a display image and a voice. Gave myself away, huh?"
    "Enough clues that I felt comfortable guessing," I admitted, "Nothing to be ashamed of. You've always been a part of the team, you know? You even saved my ass more than once by remote piloting."
     
    "But there's nothing remote about it now," Brazen nodded, miming taking a breath, "I'm putting this beautiful body into the thick of it, and it's all me, baby. That is a bit intimidating. I would be lying to say I wasn't scared, both of screwing up, and by experiencing real pain. Maybe I'm a wimp and don't know it?"
     
    "Ffftt," I scoffed, "You've faced dangers before, intruders that would have tried to dismantle you, threats to the city that you were in, and more. I've got faith in you. Besides, you want this. Like I did. I think that drive is stronger than your fear."
    "You know," She said with a fond look, "You're not bad at pep talks. Might serve you well in this co-Captain thing."
    "Thanks," I said, flattered, "I hope so."
    "And I really think it was nice how you shared your own feelings about coming here. I can just imagine you, coming to  Costa Sagrado for the first time, full of excitement, and hope, wishing you could be... part of our world."
    I grinned at the memory, "Yeah, it was something and I-" I caught on and groaned, "Really?  Little Mermaid jokes after I opened up to you?"
    Mabel gave a giggle, "Well, you were trying to make me feel better, think of this as helping because I do feel better?" 
    I rolled my eyes, "Sure, sure, I'll take it as a win," then I looked her over, "Glad it does."
    "Thanks. This new body is already like a big move, now another one is coming up, there are so many things I want to do, I barely know where to start. Not just heroing, though that's a part of it," She said handing me a cold beer, "Things having a feeling body can offer."
    "Sun on your face, wind in your hair," I raised the beer in a toast to that, "A nice soak in a hot tub, oh yeah, it's very nice," I started to drink.
    "And Sex," Brazen said, "I'm really curious about sex. I've been studying."
    I can breathe water, not beer. So I choked as the local brewer's best went down the wrong pipe.
     
    "What?" She said, "You're surprised?" 
    "No, I guess, it's just-" I coughed again then said, "I had a slightly conservative upbringing."
    "You're a prude when it comes to women talking about it?" She raised a brow. Again, amazing expressive capability.
    "Yes," I said with a nod, "I am old fashioned and prudish in some very hypocritical areas. Please forgive me, I'm just a man."
    "Oh, Caleb," She fussed, "I am so let down. I thought we could talk as peers. You're dating one of my best friends and thus are totally off limits, so I figured we could talk. Maybe you could answer some questions about your own biological experiences?"
    I wondered if I could hit our own little version of the trouble alert without Brazen picking up on it. Where the hell were the other women of the team? 
    I answered honestly, I was a grown, emotionally mature, adult man, I could do this, "Speaking just for myself, it's great but ultimately, without emotional empathy? It's only half of banquet and you'll never know what you're missing until you find a special someone to-"
    Then the Alert did come on. 
    There was an emergency.
    "Oh thank God," I blurted without thinking.
     
  20. Like
    Hermit reacted to TrickstaPriest in Political Discussion Thread (With Rules)   
    You can espouse this to any cause, but I have been wholly talking about this for some time (wrt politics):
     
     
  21. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from pinecone in The Adventures of "Fish Guy" (Superhero fiction)   
    Of course ,superheroing being what it is, at least one bit of advice was sprinkled liberally during a fight. Superheroes, and heck, supervillains, can be a talkative bunch. Banter is part and parcel of the exchange. There were strong silent types to be sure, but try as I might, I never ascended to those stoic ranks.
     
    My grandpappy had once advised that it was better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than open your mouth and remove all doubt. Good advice.
    Wish I could bring myself to follow it.
     
    "Can you believe this guy?" I asked on the com as I traded blows with XTC. The villain hadn't taken his name based on some drug craze, the initials actually stood for 'Extreme Terror and Carnage', "And when we met, you thought Eel was a bad name."
     
    Viewpoint and I were not friends actually, though I liked who he had become, I just hadn't put in the time to really befriend him like I did the original team. That said, it had occurred to me that if I was going to be a co-captain for him and the others, I might want to start being a bit more social with him; so when a standard patrol came up for Viewpoint, I went with him.
     
    As big a dry spell we'd had recently, neither of us was expecting an actual supervillain, not even one with dubious taste in code names.
    "Still not crazy about it, Eel," Viewpoint lowered his shades needlessly to blast the villain with beams of pure energy, "But yeah, XTC does smack of trying way too hard. Though I give the guy credit for one thing. He does not want to stay down."
     
    XTC was strong, not as strong as me, but strong, fairly tough. His real power seemed to be hyper-recuperation. No sooner did you think you had him on the ropes, when the guy would spring up ready to go again. I had punched him a distance of at least twenty feet three times now and each time he got up like some weird Scrappy-Doo with the body of a Pro Wrestler throw away to come up again.
    Viewpoint's powers were proving about as effective as my muscle. Which is to say, quite handy to knocking him down, frustrating for keeping him down. 
     
    "Yeah, this is getting farcical," I said, "Mind Shearing this George?" George was not Viewpoint's name, and in fact, had I said that loud enough to be heard, it wouldn't have betrayed much of anything. A lot of Lady Obsidian's battle commands were based on famous Jazz Musicians. Okay, famous in jazz circles. I had to look some of these guys up, but in a nutshell George Shears was a blind jazz pianist of English birth. The code ward was a clue to neutralize your foe's senses, if you could.
    Viewpoint? Viewpoint could!
     
    "On it," And he motioned XTC towards him in the universal gesture of 'come get some'. XTC needed no prompting!
    "You think I'm a joke? You will respect me!" And he charged towards Viewpoint. 
     
    If it seemed like we were taking XTC lightly and that he might have a right to protest, well, not really. I learned long ago that even rookie villains could get lucky, pulling stunts not in their best interest where a pro would  show a bit more savvy.  Viewpoint was taking a chance here, and unlike myself, he was not blessed with enhanced durability against physical trauma. This didn't go right, XTC could get a lucky slam into him and cave in a rib at the very least.
     
    Once again, Viewpoint's eyes flared, this time with an immense brightness I knew better than to look into myself. XTC didn't realize he should take similar precautions, and he clutched at his face!
     
    "Mother @#$#er, I'm blind!" He snarled.
     
    See, this is how I knew XTC wasn't a professional villain. Not the cursing, that varies a lot. It was the announcing his new vulnerability for both of us to hear. I mean, I knew that was the case anyway, that was the plan after all, but calling your weaknesses out is a very rookie move.
    The blinding only caused XTC to veer a little off course, but with his arms out stretched like that he still might clip Viewpoint with all the power of a runaway pickcup truck. Fortunately, I wasn't slacking on my side of the job.
     
    I had already started moving towards him even as the blast went off, and interposing myself between XTC and Viewpoint, I tackled the former to the ground. Not only am I stronger, XTC had no proper balance when I collided into him. He went down like a sack of wet cement from a hard drop! 
     
    "Cheating son of a -" He grunted as I put him in a full nelson and pinned his unseeing face into the street. 

    "Careful now," I warned as I held him, "You really want to insult the mother of the man who's got you in this kind of grip?" 
     
    Not really caring what his answer was, I said to Viewpoint "We got an ETA on when the Authorities with the suppressors will be here?"
    Viewpoint looked at me startled, "You didn't call it in?"

    "No," I said surprised, "I figured it would be a given with-" And I realized my mistake. Mabel wasn't on the Com. She was not the omnipresent, ever reliant and always on the clock A.I. anymore. She was now sporting a new body and plugged into our coms when she wanted to be. In short, she had a life.

    "Damn," I muttered, "Sorry, Viewpoint."
     
    "Don't apologize to me, feel sorry for yourself. It can take up to an hour for folks to get here with the right gear and ah, I ain't holding him, you are," Viewpoint pointed out.
     
    I made a face, "Well, sloppy of me. Talk about rookie moves." Even as I made the call.
     
    "It's not a rookie move at all," Viewpoint corrected me, "It's habit, and that's a sign of established patterns. It's your experience actually working against you."
     
    "Yeah," I said pondering exactly how long I could hold onto XTC. I was stronger, but given this guy's near inexhaustible stamina, I could be feeling a bit tired before the authorities showed. Then again, I once held up a building long enough to evacuate, so I'd probably be okay, "I suppose you have a point." I grunted.
     
    Mind you, despite being so close to XTC, at most he was hearing a mumble. Our com systems had a sub harmonic thing going for security reasons.
     
    Viewpoint re-positioned himself, getting a clear shot to blast the contained villain without hitting me if he need to, and continued, "You mind if I give you my viewpoint?" A weak smile. His play on his own hero name had been used in numerous commercials. He'd cut down on it when he became a legit hero, but the fact he used it now was kind of guy code for guiding me into something more serious. A little self depreciation as a way to soften what might be hard words.
     
    I spocked a brow at him, "Go ahead."
     
    "You're gonna have to change things up," He advised me, "You've got a new team forming under you, not just Slime, Pogo and me either."
    "I know that," I started to say, when abruptly XTC tried to flip me off! No, not a rude gesture, he bucked trying to break my grip on him hoping I got distracted.
     
    I made some cracks in the granite by whamming his head against it delicately, "Stop that," I told him out loud, "or I'm going to get annoyed."
    XTC groaned, then cursed, but he held still.
     
    "I know that," I repeated to Viewpoint wondering where he was going with this, "I hope to guide the rookies in easy."
    "Different people, different team," Viewpoint continued, "You're not Lady Obsidian."
    "Gee, thanks," I said feeling oddly challenged by the obvious statement.
     
    "You try to be her, you're going to flop. More importantly, these rookies aren't the crew you're used to. It's not just the whole social dynamic that's different, it's the components that make up the whole."
     
    Pretty fancy talk from a guy who used to sell burgers on TV, I thought, but I told him, "I've already gotten the every hero has their own baggage talk from Lady O."
     
    He nodded, then shook his head, the later catching me off guard, "Good, but not exactly what I mean. I'm talking about your baggage and their baggage all having to share the same cargo space. You've got your character flaws, and you need to own up to yourself about them so you can compensate for their flaws that will hit those buttons. This is going make the team different, make requirements different, and I dont' mean powerwise."
     
    "You know, Viewpoint, given your own past history, I'm not sure you get to judge people," I said a bit testy. I had felt unsure about teaching as it was, and this wasn't helping my concerns.

    Without lifting his arms, he held up hands in a no harm no foul intended motion, "Trust me, I get the hypocrisy involved here. You got the mote, I got the beam," he said using biblical terminology which surprised me. I guess I never thought of him as religious, and maybe he wasn't, but clearly he knew enough to borrow the metaphors, "But right now, I'm responsible for me, and whatever team mate I'm with at the time, you're going to be leading and teaching 24/7 more or less, or at least on call for the same. Higher stakes, higher standards. And also, you got to consider the ego conflict of being an echo."
     
    I blinked, that last part had totally thrown me, "The ego conflict of being an echo?"
     
    "Sorry, went through a period of a lot of self help books," He chuckled, "You know celebrities, we go through fad enlightenment like most people go through diet plans. What I'm trying to say is-" His eyes darted to the once again squirming XTC "Pardon, mind if I chip in?"
     
    "Gonna tear you apart!" XTC tried to lunge.
     
    "Oh go ahead," I said, "I'm feeling a bit conflicted about slamming this moron while he's 'technically' helpless. It sends a wrong message to any kids watching."
     
    Viewpoint's energy gaze hit with amazing accuracy avoiding my arms and catching XTC with a strike that dazed him. 
    "Thanks," I took the brief moment to reposition, hoping that the guys would get here soon, "You were saying?"
     
    "What I'm trying to say," He resumed, "is that you do well to take what you learned and observed from Lady O about being a teacher and a leader, but if you try to be her, you'll just be an echo at best, and that's gonna eat away at your ego. And like wise, if you  exepct these kids to be Pinprick, Tornado, and Arctic Fox next gen? They won't compare even when they don't screw up. They'll just be echos."
    "Don't you think they should be so lucky to be half as good as some of the others that we know?" I said, kind of sticking up for my friends, but trying to keep an open mind
    .
    "Young bloods don't settle for that, and when they do, it can turn into a lot of self loathing fast. That's a lot of maturity to ask of anyone. When I was a kid? You think I didn't want to be the good guy? Like Mr. Mega or Tour D. Force? You don't want what happened to me happen to these rookies."
     
    "You" I said cautiously, "You're a good man now, and a good superhero."
     
    "yeah, but before that I deliberately confused selfishness with wisdom and cynicism with insight, largely because I grew to resent trying and failing to emulate the greats so I just told myself they were fools and I was a fresh and happening new type of hero being a rebel."
    I was curious, it's hard to feel attacked when you realize someone is at least as hard on themselves as you, "Why do you think that was?"
    "Because, after a time of trying to climb on the top of the pedestal to join the idol you put up there, time and time again, slipping, falling, then trying and failing again to reach it," Viewpoint looked thoughtful, "After a time you just want to knock it over instead. It's small, it's petty, but it's human."
     
    It was good advice, and I get why he was saying it. Not to but in on my or Ariana's soon to be authority, but because he wanted to spare those kids the same mistakes he had fallen into. And maybe spare me as well. But the reminder I would have my own baggage, while not his emphasis, was also valued.
     
    "What do you think my flaws are?" And I slipped, asking out loud feeling oddly introspective for a moment.

    "You're a candy ass suck up to the authority of the status quo!" XTC managed to arch a leg up to kick me in the back, dislodging me enough to turn my full nelson into a half nelson. Half was enough for me to hang on as he tried to rise.
     
    Rather than settling for reestablishing a full grip, I took my free left hand and hammered the soon to be uglier side of XTC's profile with several rapid fire punches, "SHUT THE THE HELL UP!" I said , a punch with each syllable "AND STAY THE HELL DOWN OR I WILL BEAT THE LIVING #$#$# OUT OF YOU AND SEE IF YOU REGENERATE TEETH!"
     
    Finally, XTC went limp with a groan.
     
    "Well, for one thing," Viewpoint observed, staring at the bruised villain in my grip, "When pushed too far for too long you have an angry mean streak."
     
    I had to raise a brow, "What makes you think that?"
     
    But the authorities finally arrived, and  I guess Viewpoint didn't think he had time to answer.
     
  22. Thanks
    Hermit got a reaction from pinecone in Order of the Stick   
    New one up!
     
    http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots1193.html
     
     
  23. Thanks
    Hermit reacted to Sociotard in In other news...   
    Oh yeah, just look at the medical insurance for Utah government workers. They pay patients $500 to fly to Mexico to get their drugs. The insurance pays for the airplane ticket and a night in a hotel (and the drugs), and on top of that gives the patients $500, and the insurance company STILL saves money.
     
    www.vox.com/platform/amp/policy-and-politics/2020/2/10/21131921/utah-expensive-prescription-drugs-mexico
  24. Haha
    Hermit reacted to Starlord in Political Discussion Thread (With Rules)   
    Don't let him bother you, just Shake It Off, Shake It Off
  25. Like
    Hermit got a reaction from Joe Walsh in Political Discussion Thread (With Rules)   
    I would say this is Steyer's best debate so far, not that that that's saying much.
    Warren didn't get the licks in as much as last time, but she stood her ground and yes, did well.
    LOTS of folks went after Sanders, but while he gained no ground, he weathered them well. I think a few times the booing crowds surprised him, but then  I have theories about that crowd
    (I AM Worried SC will not go as well for Bernie as  I Hoped, but we'll see)
     
    Biden actually had a few moments were I felt for him. He's clearly getting TICKED... and given the cruddy job the moderators did, I can't blame him. (One of his gun death stats had me going wth? )
    I said last time Pete came across as a petty to Amy. Well, he's coming across as kind of petty to everyone... for all his talk of not alienating folks it seems almost as if he's doing that to everyone else.
    Klobachur was.. uhm unremarkable?
    Bloomberg was better prepared, and many in the audience clearly favored him. That said, his elitism shines through. The idea that NYC solutions will work anywhere... oh but wait, someo f those solutions sucked but nevermind that... and the "I have the resources" Line 
    maybe i'm too sensitive to a megabillionaire trying to buy the election but it sure seemed like a declaration of "my money will handle EVERYTHING"
     
    Maybe it's the contrariness in me, but the more Bloomberg talked, the more I wanted to vote for Bernie and Liz.
     
    THe moderators did a terrible job IMO
     
     
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