Greywind

The last time the Keebler elves went to war it was a Nabisco inferno.

Londo Mollari: But this…this, this, this is like… being nibbled to death by, uh…Pah! What are those Earth creatures called? Feathers, long bill, webbed feet…go "quack". Vir Cotto: Cats. Londo: Cats! I'm being nibbled to death by cats.

Where are the Tree Elf bakers? The Keeblers.

“My girlfriend and I were between semesters. We took a road trip. Got to Vegas. Rachel saw an ad looking for dancers. Thought we'd give it a shot. Turned out that dancing was only part of the job. Dance, strip, escort, the works. All the girls that applied that had family connections failed the first interview. None of us knew that at the time. “So, there were eight of us that no one would miss that were all hired. Then we found out what the job actually was. One of the girls, I never knew her name, refused. There was a guy there next to our manager. He preferred that to pimp. The guy next to the manager pulled out a gun and shot her in the head right in front of all of us. “The manager told us we work or we die.” Archie stared at Charley. “They couldn't have watched you all the time. When you were out working. Why not run then? Call the cops?” “When it got to work or die, each of us was injected with a locator. We would have to be far outside of Vegas not to be found. Or so we were told. As for calling the cops, the shooter was a cop. He made sure we all saw his badge when he holstered his gun. It makes you question if the cop you did call would be his buddy or just as bent. “We were in Vegas almost two years. Easy to lose track of time. Rachel and I held on to each other and the hope that we'd get free. One day all of the girls got called into the manager's office. We lined up and a man walked up and down. He considered each of us. Whatever his conditions of selection were, we never knew. “His first pass he pushed all the black women back. The really dark skinned ones, anyway. The second pass he was a bit more discriminant. Brunette there. Redhead next. One girl had mismatched eyes. He pushed her back. Rachel didn't make the cut. “By the time he was done there was three of us standing there. He told us to strip. One look at the manager and we did. Turn around. Pose like this. Walk over here. Do this. Do that. “When he was done he talked to he manager. What they said, I have no idea. He walked back over to us, looked us all over very carefully. He pointed at me and said, 'This one.' He looked at one of the other girls still standing there and said, 'Send this one to my room.'” Charley took a drink and moved her plate out of her way. “I was told that I was being hired out for a long term contract. I was to dress professionally. Office professional. Not street-walker. The manager made it clear that Rachel was a hostage against my good behavior.” “The guy that picked you out, that was Bauer. Wasn't it?” Charley nodded.

Showing up fine in mine.

Halo music while the campaigns install.

Why do we have to give the peorples anything? Can't they spend their own points for it?

Maybe Lorien will catch you. Maybe he won't. Tick, you're alive. Tock, you're dead.

“Jesus, Archie. Any idea whose lab it was?” “It was SciTech. The helmet Jer found belonged to one of Destroyer's robot minions.” He pushed a fry through ketchup. Charley wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Arch, you are one of the bravest men I know or a damned fool.” “Why you say that?” “SciTech was David Wainwright's playground until Charles Scott yanked it out from under him.” “Yeah. I know that,” Archie said. “Now.” “Wainwright was also Destroyer.” Archie raised his head to look at her. “When he was ready for the big leagues he designed a new armor and took a new name. Warmonger. That tropic vacation we took last year was on his island.” Below the implanted bug eyes, Archie's face registered shock. “I think I just wet myself.” He stared at his plate. “When I woke up I had these,” he pointed at his face. “There's a series of connectors on my back. Hookups for the wing shell.” “What happened with your playmates?” “Never saw them again. It was months before the machines were done with me. I woke up. All my gear was laid out on a table with instructions on how to hook it up. My costume was the only clothing in the room. I got dressed. Learned how the shell went on and how I got the wings to work. The zappers hook up to the shell. The wings help charge the energy cells.” Archie took a swig from his bottle. “Hardest thing was getting used to these,” he pointed at his face. “After I learned how to fly and became proficient with the zappers one day the door was open and I could just leave.” Charley regarded Archie. “Zappers connect to the shell. You aren't wearing the shell, but you do have your zappers.” Smirking, Archie said, “Would you come into a place like this unarmed?” Charley laughed. “Not fair. You're never really unarmed. The energy cells are in me. Not the wing shell. There's a direct connect for the zappers. Not sure I was supposed to be one of his soldiers or just an experiment or what,” Archie shrugged. “He's never come looking. Did some work for myself. Hired myself out to others. When... When I was offered a slot with the Guard I thought it might be somewhere I could belong. Wasn't a lot different than before. Just instead of belonging I turned into a belonging.” “What is it about Kris?” Charley asked. Looking at his plate, lost in thought for a moment, Archie smiled. “She makes me want to be better.” Archie took a bite of his burger. “She does seem to have that effect.” Archie nodded in agreement. “So,” he said around his burger, “that's my origin story. What I know of it, anyway. What about you?”

You are touched by darkness ambassador. I see it as a blemish that will grow with time. I could warn you of course, but you would not listen. I could kill you, but someone would take your place. So I do the only thing I can, I go.

“...The hell they do with all this stuff?” “It's like a warehouse,” one boy answered. “That's because it is a warehouse, moron. We need to find out how they got stuff organized. That way we can find what'll be good for the taking.” “We shouldn't be in here,” Archie said. “Relax, Arch. They don't have security guards. We been scoping this place for weeks. Hey, Bobby! This one reads 'prototype'.” “Sure, Chad, but a prototype of what?” Bobby responded. “Andy, give me a hand and we'll pop it open,” Chad said. They popped the clasps and flipped the lid over. “What is it?” “Looks like some kind of armor,” Andy said. “Cool!” Chad rummaged in the crate. “Is this a blaster?” Andy shoved it out of his face. “Don't go waving shit around that you got no idea what it is or how it works! Especially not in my face!” Looking around, Archie asked, “Did you hear that?” “Ain't nothing to hear, Baldy,” Bobby responded with a much despised nickname. “We're the only ones in here. There's no security and no one home.” A boy named Jer popped open another case. “Check this helmet out! It looks like a skull!” “Lemme see that,” Bobby ordered. “Up yours,” Jer said. “I found it.” He pulled it on his own head. “Cool.” There was a clang in the distance followed by the sound of a pot lid spinning down before coming to a stop. “What was that?” Archie asked louder than he should have. “Quiet down!” Bobby ordered. Jer screamed and blood poured out from under the helmet. He fell to his knees. “Jesus.” Archie ran. Something moved ahead of him. He yanked a door open and ducked inside. He was out of breath and shaking. He tried to calm himself. There was a whining sound coupled with a flash of light and screams. The whine and flash came again and again. Each time the screams lessened. Until finally there was silence. In time, Archie stood and looked through the window on the door. The skull helmet looked back. “You will do.” The door lock clicked. Machinery hummed. Archie turned and tentacles grabbed him, wrists and ankles. His clothing was cut away. The tentacles pulled him to an uprighted table with a body form that adapted to him. The table tilted downward until it was horizontal. Moving up from the base of his spine, needles made a series of injections. Archie screamed until he passed out from the pain.

Here Is One Course To Take There Is One War To Fight Be Vicktorious Or Die Only One Siege To Gain There's Fire In Our Eyes Let His Kingdom Rise He Holds The Fate Of Our Kingdom In His Hands Wide Open Gates Attack To Foe Then Raid Their Land We Are The Warriors We March Throught Halls Edge Of Stell We Are Rebellions We Tear Down Walls Edge Of Stell We Draw The Bow The Javeling Swing We Serve The King The Edge Of Stell We Abide We Serve The King His Reign Of Stell He Holds His Sword Up High Unshakable His Will Warriors Unite We See Black Ravens Fly There's Fire In The Sky Helm And Axe In Sight He Holds The Fate Of Our Kingdom In His Hands Wait Stem To Stem Attack The Foe They Sink To Sands Protected By Finn's Invincible Spell Iron-Shielded Vessels Sail

We need a Shang-Chi/Kwai Chang Caine fight for the title.

Basic would tend to be a shootout.

Where to start with a campaign: The characters. Get them fleshed out enough so that you have an idea of who and what they are, what their abilities are, what their skills are. The first adventure: Focusing on the characters, give a task that allows each of them a time in the spotlight. It does help to have a general idea of where you as the GM want the campaign to go. Will it have a definite end? Will it be open-ended? Will the adventures be interconnected, like a TV show where the episodes build off each other, or will it just be a series of stand-alone stories?

The pool cost is the amount of points you have to make powers with. Why would you want it reduced?

Two feets they come a creepin Like a black cat do And two bodies are layin' naked. Creeper think he got nothin' to lose. So he creeps into this house, yeah And unlocks the door And as a man's reaching for his trousers Shoots him full of thirty-eight holes. Mr. Saturday night special Got a barrel that's blue and cold Ain't good for nothin But put a man six feet in a hole Big Jim's been drinkin' whiskey And playin' poker on a losin' night And pretty soon ol' Jim starts a thinkin Somebody been cheatin' and lyin'. So big Jim commence to fightin' I wouldn't tell you no lie. Big Jim done pulled his pistol Shot his friend right between the eyes. Mr. Saturday night special Got a barrel that's blue and cold Ain't good for nothin But put a man six feet in a hole Hand guns are made for killin' They ain't no good for nothin' else. And if you like to drink your whiskey You might even shoot yourself. So why don't we dump 'em people To the bottom of the sea Before some ol' fool come around here Wanna shoot either you or me. Mr. Saturday night special Got a barrel that's blue and cold Ain't good for nothin But put a man six feet in a hole It's the saturday night special And I'd like to tell you what you could do with it too And that's the end of the song

Why is it our job to save everybody?

Which probably further helps against Disney's streaming grab with Black Widow.

In the Support area there is a forum for Hero Designer. The man that wrote HD answers the questions about it and helps there.

“That's a big step,” Charley said. “What made you decide to take it?” Archie's gaze dropped to the table. Charley thought she saw him blush. “Kris got to you?” Archie nodded. “Maybe someday I'll be worthy of saying her name,” he said quietly. “So, on my last night of freedom, I thought I'd sit down with one of the few women I thought would sit down with me.” “Archie...” He waved it off. “Self-confidence has never been a strong point for me. If it was I wouldn't be the way I am.” A girl brought Charley's burger to her. “I'll have one of those,” Archie told her. “And bring me another,” he said, putting his bottle where she could easily get it. “Jason has kept his word?” Nodding, Archie said, “Everything I've asked for he's delivered on. He seems an honorable sort, so I didn't push too hard. I've got a place to hole up. I try not to be seen coming and going. Kind of hard to hide myself with these eyes.” “How did you get them, anyway?” “Long story.” Charley dropped her chin, cocked her head, and raised an eyebrow. “Well, we did say we'd tell our stories at some point.” Charley nodded. “I'd been sixteen and running with a bad crowd. The guys got it in their heads to break into a place where they had done some kind of research. No one was really sure what...”

“I don't have a lot of time, Archie. What's on your mind?” “I realize this goes beyond what you meant about paying me back, Mr. Scott, and I really appreciate you taking the time to see me. I want a lawyer.” “I see,” Jason said. “I can arrange one. What do you need one for?” “I don't need one. I want one.” Even without turning his head to look at her, Archie could see the Doctor smile. “I want to change my life. I can't do that without dealing with my past. I would much rather do it on my terms than having it forced on me. I plan on turning myself in. After that, I'll need a lawyer. I want one now to kinda get ahead of the situation.” Archie watched Jason's eye shift from him to Dr. Tyler. Jason picked up his phone and pressed a button. “Get me Tom Abernathy and Trese, Sarah. My office.” He hung up. “Abernathy leads the legal team. He can decide who can best represent you once he knows what he needs to know. Kris, may I have a word in private?” Kris uncrossed her legs and stood up. She walked over to the window. “Archie, feel free to get a drink,” Jason said indicating a small bar. He met Kris by the window. Turning to the bar, Archie could still see the two at the window. He gave them as much privacy as his eyesight allowed. At times like this he was glad he wasn't a lipreader. He opened the refrigerator under the bar to find it mostly stocked with water bottles and fruit juices. “Apple it is,” he said, pulling the bottle out. The office door opened and a red haired woman stepped in. Archie stared. She returned his gaze with an amused smile. “You,” he finally said. “Me,” Trese said. “I understand that I have you to thank.” “I... I... It was nothing,” he finally got out. Stepping closer, Trese said, “That isn't how I understand it.” Trese slipped her arms around Archie. For the longest time he stood there not knowing what to do with himself. Slowly, his arms folded around her and he held her close. “Apple juice is a bit chilly on my back,” she said. “Sorry.” He let her go. “I thought you'd be taller with all the heavy lifting you did,” Trese said. “I... I'm stronger than I look.” He flipped a glass over. Trese smiled at him. “My undue attention is making you nervous. Pour me one, too.” Archie flipped a second glass. “I'm not used to attention from women. Unless they're cops with guns pointed at me.”

Good luck with the cat wrangling.

Origin Stories The SUV rolled to a stop. Charley put it in park. Turning the engine off, she smiled to herself. It was hard for her to believe how far she had some in such a relative short time. She mentioned to Ash that she had an appointment to keep. Ash tossed her the keys. “The gray SUV. It's been adjusted for you.” Ash was right. The seat had been adjusted so that it sat halfway into the backseat to accommodate her required legroom. Getting in and out of it was easy for her. She dropped the keys into her purse. Getting out, she tapped the door locks. A biker rode by and let out a long whistle. She smiled and closed the door. Another time she might have waved, but that could lead to unwanted attention from the rider. She slung her purse over her shoulder. Catching her reflection in the glass door, she smiled. She couldn't help herself. It had been one of those days. When she opened the inner door Charley was hit by the sound of pinball, pool, glass, music and chatter. When she ducked down and entered the place went silent save for the pinball machines and the jukebox. It was a reaction she was used to. Standing over seven feet tall, Charley was used to being noticed. Walking to the bar, the tender lifted his chin in greeting. “Hey, Charley. What will it be?” “Beer. Whatever you have on tap will do,” she answered. “Your booth has a bug in it.” Charley smiled again. “I was expecting it. 'Shroom and Swiss burger with fries, please.” “Coming up,” he said, placing an over-sized beer mug on the counter. Charley took it and headed to the back. “Hey, Archie. How have you been?” Archie waved. Charley noticed the bug zapper under the sleeve of the sweater he was wearing. “All good,” he said smiling. “You get all sexy'd up for me? And carrying a purse? What's happened to you?” Charley grinned. “Do you realize how many years it has been since I've honestly been able to get all girly? I had one chance last year. This is the second time I've been able to this year.” She slid into the booth. “Chances don't seem to come as often as they used to. I missed it and I like it.” “You got the legs for it. Do I start calling you “Legs” now?” he teased. “Thanks. And if you do, I will hurt you.” “Ooh, gonna get me all excited with talk like that. Heard you been doing good.” Charley smiled. She fished a card out of her purse and slid it across the table. Archie looked at it. It was a medium blue, almost like denim, with a capital T in silver. “Serifs are a nice touch. I take it you're a full on member now?” Nodding, Charley said, “Yeah. I guess I am. Why'd you want to meet, Arch?” “I've been doing a lot of thinking. About who I am. About where I am. About dreams I had. None of them included being a freak. I'm probably going away for a while. I've done some bad things in my life, but I'm not a bad man.” “What do you mean going away?” Charley asked.

Or street-level, if you want to consider hero types like solo Batman, Daredevil, etc.