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Lorehunter last won the day on March 23

Lorehunter had the most liked content!

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  • Gender
  • Location
    Hidden amongst the giants
  • Interests
    many and varied, both big and small, young and old, here and there.
  • Biography
    Old man with disabled wife and 100 cats shoved into the skin of a son.
  • Occupation
    Caretaker and homemaker.

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  1. You guys are great. My son loves the comments and songs. 🤗
  2. My son and I are playing a 4-color hero campaign of which some of you have been quite helpful in putting together. Tonight he encountered 4 thugs chasing a girl down the street. The thugs of course were gaining quickly. He was watching the city from the edge of a 5 story building when he saw this. The character he is running is basically a reskin of Eraserhead from My Hero Academia. In his opening maneuver he swings down from the roof using a conveniently placed flagpole and his capture bands and makes a suitable landing. The thugs are unimpressed and proceed to attack. In his 1st phase he uses the capture bands to grab 2 of the thugs and throw them into a nearby wall, at full str. 31 STUN and 6 Body later the two are lying in a heap at the base of the wall after sickening cracks and thuds when they hit. They are not moving and it is obvious that certain limbs are not supposed to be in that position. The other 2 turn and run for their phase. His next phase comes around and this time he only uses half power but rolls really well and again the thugs are left very unconscious and most likely crippled. After checking that the girl is ok he flips across the street (narrowly missing a car) and disappears into the shadows with the sound of sirens approaching. Later the next day the news reports on the newest vigilante "Danger Scarf". He went to bed crowing with laughter at his new nickname. <shakes my head>
  3. That's a wrap. Who/what is next ?
  4. Argh!!! Didn't think of that! Would have been much better. Alas but that hindsight has such good perception.😎 Also we should stop this as we are dragging the thread farther and farther afield.
  5. I agree but the public relations portion of Cryptic felt it was too closely linked to the antics of a certain group of idiots in the mid to late 1940s. Even after I tried to explain they still felt the was a large enough portion of the populace that might take exception that they were unwilling to risk it. So she became Creeping Lotus which was even funnier since her travel power was super speed.
  6. And it was because of that that I was forced to change her name in City Of Villains. 🙄
  7. Epiphany Michael’s father was dying. Although he could hear the sirens approaching Michael knew they would never get there in time. Around them lay the bodies of 4 young men, still breathing but unconscious. Nearby knelt 2 young girls quietly crying as they held each other. Above,distant clouds scuttled across the dark night sky. As the sirens grew closer, the sound of the other young men retreating into the night grew more and more distant. A chill wind, barely a whisper, tugged at some peeling handbills stapled to the nearby telephone pole with its single street light. Michael held his father and asked, “Why?” His father took Michael’s hand in his own and said, “Evil triumphs when good men do nothing.” With those words Michael was left alone in the world. The police arrived. Paramedics noisily joined them only moments later. They questioned the girls, then they questioned Michael. They learned that Michael’s father had been a Preacher and that they had been working at a local soup kitchen️. After helping clean up and close for the night the two men had started walking back to their small tenement on Skid Row. As they had been walking they had heard the crying of the girls and the laughing of the young men. Michael’s father had not hesitated as he turned toward the scene and walked quickly toward them. He had gotten quite close before the thugs had noticed him. “Get the f*** outta here before I lose my patience, ese!” His father did not preach in any of the local churches, nor did he preach from a soap box on the corner. No, his father had always followed the adage that actions speak louder than words and that if one wanted to spread the Word one needed to exemplify that by following those Words and showing others the Way. Michael’s father had never “preached” to the masses, never berated them for their sins; he had merely been there for those who needed an ear to listen to them, a shoulder to cry on, or a hand to help lift them back up. Michael’s father had not even slowed as he raised his arm and with a swift straight blow to the man’s face laid him out flat on the ground. At the time, Michael had thought there had been a passing car or something, because at the moment his father had struck the man there was a brief flash of light followed by a slight smell of ozone and sulphur. The remaining young men were at first stunned by the preacher’s actions. It was less the punch itself, but more the single-minded surety and speed with which it had been carried out. Here was a man that despite being outnumbered 8:1 showed no sign of fear or even concern. In that moment he seemed to grow larger, become “more”. He did not get any bigger like some of those supers that grew to giants when fighting crime but he became, well, just “more” like there was someone else there in the same place and the two entities were occupying the same space. On top of that, Michael could have sworn there was a slight nimbus of golden light surrounding his father's chest and arms as if a light were shining on him. The thugs ignored the girls and closed on Michael’s father. It was dark and things were moving fast so Michael was not sure, but to him it looked like the thugs also changed slightly. They became darker, bulkier and less distinct like they were dissolving into smoke or something equally ridiculous sounding. Michael suddenly could smell rotting meat or something somewhere nearby. Michael had never seen his father fight, never seen him even raise his voice in anger let alone make a violent action of any type. Now he watched, stunned and wide-eyed as his father engaged the 7 remaining men. He could never remember afterwards what exactly happened -- only that in a few short seconds, his father had laid out 3 more of the men before being stabbed. At least, Michael had certainly thought at the time that they had stabbed his father nothing else but a knife could have caused the gaping cuts and slashes. “NO!” he screamed as he ran toward the scene. The other thugs saw Michael charging them and ran. The girls also seemed to shrink back at Michael’s approach seeming to fear him as much as the thugs that had attacked them but were too shocked by all that had happened to actually run. Michael ran to his father’s side and held him. The blood. There was so much blood. How could so much blood come from one person. Michael looked down into the slowly dimming blue eyes of his father and asked, “Why?” His father took Michael’s hand in his own and in a barely audible voice told him, “Evil triumphs when good men do nothing.” Michael’s world exploded and shattered. In the next moment of time the Universe was born, stars made and died, worlds created and destroyed, life flourished and perished and for one very brief instant Michael understood. “God” was not some great puppeteer pulling all the strings of Creation following the machinations of some Grand Plan. He was a Creator allowing each person the freedom to become the best they could if they so chose. If they found the Path within them to Goodness, and they followed it, not for some reward at the end but because it was the right thing to do, then they would grow, become better, more than what they had been. They would become, in their own way, part of the Divine, they would “return to God.” He now understood the freedom that had been given to humans allowed them to choose whether or not they would succumb to their baser instincts or rise above them. Rise up to help their fellow beings, to improve the world around them, and to work against the constant tide of corruption and evil. Humans could give in to their inner demons and become monsters or they could learn to defeat those monsters and show others how to walk the Path so that they too could fight and defeat the monsters that stalked in the darkness. In that moment he understood all the things his father had done and not done. He realized his father had become “more” than he had been. His heart exploded with pain at his loss and pride in his father. In that moment Michael had an epiphany. The following week an elderly couple were walking home after closing their small corner store for the night. Dark clouds scuttled across the night sky. As they walked a group of young thugs emerged from the shadows. They had not been there a moment before and seemed to take shape from the very darkness itself. From one of the alleys came the smell of rotting meat and garbage. “Hey old man,” said one. “You speak-a-da-Engrish?” The others cackled like hyenas at their leader’s callous joke. The couple hunched in upon themselves in a vain attempt to pass by unnoticed, to escape what they knew was coming. “We don wan annee truble,” the old man said in broken English. “Well maybe trouble wants you,” the thug sneered. As he advanced, the shadows seemed to grow thicker around him, obscuring his face. His outline seemed to become less rigid, more amorphous. The couple cowered in terror at whatever they saw approaching them. A sound. Feet moving swiftly but with so little noise it seemed like the sound wind might make if it could run. Like each footfall was the gentlest of kisses to the hard earth. The earth barely having time to register the contact before their secret lover had fled, only to alight a fraction of a second later in a new spot further along. Whoever it was, they were quickly closing the distance between themselves and the shadowy figures. A figure passed beneath a single streetlight and the glow of the light appeared to cling to them even as they left the lamp behind. As tho the light wanted more than anything to be with them. Even if for only a moment. Now, like a glowing meteor it crashed amidst the villainous thugs and with each blow it rained down upon them, starbursts of light invaded the depths of the shadows. The shadowy figures of the thugs tried to strike back but their fists and “knives” struck the nimbus of light surrounding the stranger and were rejected as if they were unworthy to be in the light. As quickly as it had started, it was over. The shadows that had seemed to cling to the young men drew back and dispersed out into the night leaving their bodies on the ground. The stranger turned to the elderly couple and inquired if they were ok. They said they were and thanked their savior. He simply said they were welcome and turned to leave. As he walked away they asked, “Why?” He called back over his shoulder as he passed under the single street light, “Evil wins when good men do nothing.”
  8. Holly Caustic As a child Holly was always admonished to be a "good girl", to obey her elders, follow the rules, etc. When she was in high school she was raped. The boys responsible were never punished as "boys will be boys" and "she obviously was asking for it." Her parents were so disappointed. How could she have let this happen. They were embarrassed and ashamed of her. Holly had gotten pregnant and 7 months later had a miscarriage. She was alone when it happened, her father at work at his prestigious job in the city and her mother at the country club. Looking at the still-born baby, knowing this was yet another life that those boys had destroyed, knowing that the "men" in power would never do anything about it, Holly felt something deep inside her break. Something was released at that moment, something that coiled and twisted as it grew within her. She could feel the house plants around her, the grass of the lawn outside, the trees along the street. She felt the life all around her and then she felt the "death" brought about by the concrete and artificial constructs of the Man to show his status and power over Gaea the Earth Mother. The suburbs where the women and children were kept to be displayed for the prestige of the Men that controlled them and owned them. Along with the expanding sense of Gaea's life force around her Holly felt the bile of her anger and hatred rising as well. The two forces became mixed within her. She found she could influence the plants around her to move as she wished. Additionally she could cause them to seep out the hatred and anger she held within her in the form of a caustic sap able to eat through almost any "Man-Made" material. That day a new woman emerge from the destroyed and overgrown building that had been the house she grew up in, that day Holly Caustic was release upon the world of Man and woe to those who opposed her.
  9. Maximillion Marithain had been tinkering in his lab, working on the new quantum computer that controlled his quantum particle power armor, Wave Form. He felt he was making really good headway with the code when everything went hazy. When his recollections became clear and distinct it was 3 days later, he was in New York instead of Seattle and he was wearing his newest completed power armor. While being questioned by authorities Maxi found he had been part of some big aerial battle over and around New York. He told them he remembered being on a team, he remember there were bad guys to fight but for the life of him he could not remember who had been on his team or who had been among the enemies. He could not even remember how he had gotten across the continent. He did speculate that maybe the new firmware of his armor had caused some kind of quantum fluctuations that may have caused a ripple effect that pulled the various combatants in the recent battle. These fluctuations may have also caused the memory lapses and sensory distortions that so many experienced as the the various quantum waves collapsed to this particular reality. As to why they seem to have centered in New York he could not even speculate. And that makes 5. Thinking of a new team theme ....... I know it has been done already (twice I think) but I am on a religious kick at the moment so next group in The Good Samaritans. A team of 7 that go about helping the unwashed masses and fallen of humanity find their way back into the light of the Divine. (Not necessarily Christian oriented.)
  10. Thank you Was just doing my part I vote new team. For some reason I just seem to have a hard time with this particular concept. 😕 And just to be clear the problem is with my neural network not the concept itself
  11. So Algae, after rereading your op I am confused. Are you looking for insight as to : Why does this trope (warrior elite becoming corrupt because of being elite) existe? How can we change this trope (elite not becoming corrupt or arch-types other than warrior becoming elite)? How come there are not similar tropes for other arch-types? Or am I even further afield that that ? Not a critique just looking for clarification.
  12. There is a scene in one of the Batman story lines where he and dead/alive Robin are talking over a beaten/not dead Joker about the futility of just arresting the criminals only to have them escape/get released instead of killing them and ending it permanently. Batman says that if he ever started down that path he would never be able to stop. He knows he can't become the judge, jury and executioner but he also realizes there is a real need (in his world) for someone with the means and commitment keep the fighting the good fight. He doesn't do it for his justice or his glory. He goes after people the normal system can't, for whatever reason, and then steps back as soon as the system can get a hand on the situation. If the system looses control then he is there again to bring control back to the system. That includes controlling the system when it strays from its own stated ideal. Both Bats and Super follow a code but it is a code others can point to and say "See? Here is what you are supposed to do." And they are able to do this despite their personal feelings while having their personal feelings providing the motivation to take what action is needed. In super hero storylines the writer always knows who is who and what the back story is. They know who is in the right and who isn't. Sometimes that is the story, that the character may not know but the writer definitely does. In real life we often don't have the full story. We are not the writer and don't know the full back story so when people in real life start acting like they do it scares us because deep down we can see ourselves as the ones being judged without all the facts. I find it amusing (cynic that I am) that when, as LL pointed out, the heroes are acting directly at the behest of the government or system it ends up being more unforgiving and tyrannical that when individuals do similar things. I guess this leads back to the Warrior/Soldier argument. One is an individual the other part of a group. One has flexibility, one has regulation and standardization. Ok getting sleepy and feel I am beginning to ramble. Night.
  13. Sky Lord Sky Lord had been about to activate his Planet Buster Beam onto San Francisco and thus sink the west coast into the ocean when it found itself somewhere else. It was unable to identify it position as it could not seem to connect to internet or any GPS device. What it could detect were the pitiful human meat bag supers that had obviously transported it to wherever here was and it would make them pay for interfering in its grand scheme to take over the Earth for the betterment of all machine kind. Even before the strange "event" that had been blocking or interfering with everyone's ability to perceive reality ended several of the victims of the Air War had teamed up to take out the black lacquered robot that was indiscriminately attacking everyone and everything. Later when things became more clear many felt there might have been something in some of the team ups between certain of the heroes and villains although none would admit it at the time. P.S. He is no more powerful than any other villain he just thinks he is. Megalomania and all that.
  14. Kreesh-Nal-Ib Nursing the wounds it had received from it latest battle on the human's world, Kreesh-Nal-Ib plodded back to it's lair. DEMON and their accursed summons for their petty small minded schemes was really beginning to annoy the greater demon. At first it had enjoyed the charnage and misery the jaunts to the mortal world allowed it but now they were more often than naught just lessons in pain and humiliation. Time and time again some "wizard" or "grand-puhba" or whatever they called themselves would summon the great and powerful Kreesh-Nal-Ib to accept a sacrifice or destroy an enemy or corrupt some location but instead it inevitably ended up fighting a slew of heroes. To make matters worse the thrice accursed heroes seemed to be getting stronger. Take the summons it was limping back home from at the moment. It had been minding its own business torturing some souls it had lying around when it had received the summons. At first it was looking forward to this particular summons because who ever had done it had made several mistakes. The summoner had not identified themselves or demanded subservience from the greater demon letting Kreesh claim it did not have to follow any orders it might have been given when it got to the mortal realm. Then it realized the mortal mage, for who else would have summoned it, had made another error by not binding it thus allowing it free reign when it arrived on the world of the humans. So it was with genuine glee that it had answered the summons and gated to the world of the mortals. Alsa not all was as it had predicted. To begin with who ever had summoned it had manage to mask itself such that Kreesh could not locate the perpetrator of this affront to extract it's revenge for attempting to enslave it. Second, the moment it stepped through the portal it was assaulted by, well by someone, although Kreesh never did figure out who was who. It did know that apparently several other demons had been summoned and that as a group they were fighting several other beings. Kreesh knew who the "enemy" was and it was able to identify its allies but something was off. Spreading its great leathery wings it rose into the air and threw a bolt of arcane hellfire at one of the other flying enemies, a great shining knight in silvered armor. Either the knight was a practitioner of majik or the armor was enchanted for the hell bolt smashed into some kind of barrier just before it struck the target. The battle raged back and forth. Around buildings, through tunnels, high in the air and close to the ground. Many a time Kreesh had been tempted to break from the battle to find a tasty mortal to drag back to its realm but every time ithe demon found itself being dragged back into the battle. In Fact by the end Kreesh-Nal-Ib was certain there was some outside force directing the whole affair. As the battle dragged on the individuals on both sides grew to be less of "them" and "us" and more individuals the demon recognized. Warmonger was a soul it had been watching for sometime as Kreesh had recognized that the mortal's zealous nature and blood-lust could be used to corrupt him. Kreesh-Nal-Ib assumed the reason Warmonger was fighting today was that someone had convinced the would-be hero that "the cause was justified." Now as to why Kreesh was allied with Firefly, a Fey creature it had fought against before, it had no idea. Maybe she was under a spell or possessed. Eventually though it felt the majik of the summon began to weaken. As it had suffered majorly in this battle in the air it elected to return to its lair to heal its wounds and plot its revenge on whoever or whatever had called it out to this pointless and in the end fruitless battle.
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