Silverias
Seeing is Believing
- Location
- Squiddy Places
That seems like a nice way to lose that healer you just hired.
Totally in-character, though.
Project: Gamer Ver. 2 (Young Justice/Gamer/Multicross OC)
- Thread starter Mister Ficser
- Start date
Totally in-character, though.
Batman probably told Robin to try to find out more about Alchemist, but he was expecting Robin to be subtle, not the way Robin's going about it.
Chapter 63
Project: Gamer Ver. 2 Alpha Build 0.6.3
Disclaimer Me Do: I own nothing you recognize. And most of what you don't recognize, I still don't own.
_________________________________________________________________________
"You know." He said to his companion. "I try to avoid lying too much. It just causes more and more problems, takes a lot of upkeep and it all falls apart with one little thing out of place."
The cat, of course, did not have an answer.
She instead had rolled over to her side to lick her belly clean while he was sitting in the dirt and petting her.
"Lucky girl. If us humans were as flexible, we'd never leave our homes." He picked her up and put her in his lap, scratching and petting her until she was purring like an engine. "Definitely thinking a lie would be better than the truth sometimes, though. I keep falling into the same mental rut and it's... Bad, Girl."
She'd latched on to his hand and was holding it against her torso with her forepaws while her hindlegs were kicking at him.
He just shook her a bit with that hand and then used the other to pet her head.
Frost, being a cat, decided she'd had enough and jumped off of him though she didn't go far. She just kept circling around him and butting her head against him while he would try to pet her.
He flopped onto his back once she'd gone around to his side, heedless of the bugs and dirt and roots. For her, this was apparently an invitation to climb on top of him and start kneading at his belly.
"...I have an idea." He admitted to the black cat after she lay down on him. "It's a really bad idea though. I'll need to go back to Gotham for a bit."
Anything involving Gotham was a bad idea. Whoever thought building a city on top of... What all was it? A hellmouth, a Lazarus Pit, some Apokolips technology and a not-quite-dead necromancer? And didn't the corpse of Trigon resurrect itself there at some point? Well, that last one wasn't a concern yet. Leslie hadn't been able to find hide nor hair of a 'Raven Roth' anywhere on the internet.
He could probably fix three of those, but he wasn't touching anything from Sector Six-Six-Six.
Not happening.
Right. Gotham's concentrated Evil problem. He remembered, vaguely, a seven-winged Holy seal that was supposed to block off infernal influences. The Vatican might even have a version of that here that he could use instead of digging around the Shop and learning it himself.
And having about as much magic as twenty-seven average people combined, he could probably power the thing all by his lonesome.
In contrast, the Lazarus Pit was decidedly simpler to deal with. He could find the design specifications and just make a small Tesla Turbine to drain the foul thing. Maybe fill up some fifty-five gallon drums and see if he could use those in case of an emergency.
Or, since he had an indestructible meta-material, he could make some full sized Tesla Turbines and drop them off at the various institutes of Science around the United States. The news reports as people try to figure that out would be worth a laugh.
He pursed his lips and thought about that. He would absolutely need to have his inventory limit modified by Berserk, or that would not work quite so well. He'd have to store the fluid seperately since he couldn't lift two-hundred kilograms by himself.
He shook his head a little bit and pulled the cats claws out of his shirt. He needed to focus.
As for Doctor Gotham? According to his memories the warlock was, by his own admission, something like forty-thousand years old. Anti-Magic might be the only way to go there.
Anti-Magic and orbital bombardment. He could figure out the whole flying deal as a dragon and just drop some metal rods.
"What do you think, hon?" The cat just purred. "Yeah, might be too long term. Think I should go talk to my guy in Gotham? I've got another idea."
Tired of being jostled and moved around, the black cat hopped off of him and wandered into the woods.
That was fair.
Alchemist got up, stretched, and disappeared.
He had to go and see a guy in Gotham for some lysergic acid diethlyamide.
-----
Hugo Strange woke up slowly, clawing and crawling his way through a migraine and a slow, thick haze to fully wake up.
His arms were being held down by something on either side of him, and opening his eyes invited sunlight to pierce directly into his brain with unbridled wrath and fury.
His tongue felt like it was covered in a thick, fuzzy layer of nastiness that tasted like an unholy combination of vodka and vomit.
He blinked, pulling the world into painful, fuzzy focus.
His glasses were missing.
On his right was a girl, some brunette with a very modest rack. On his left was another girl, blonde and smaller.
Was she even legal?
He couldn't remember much of the last night. He'd ordered delivery after a hard day of trying to do his job...
Dealing with vapid egotistical fools and brilliant morons on a perpetual power trip did not make for an easy day.
The delivery driver had shown up, some young new kid with blond hair and bright, brilliantly bright blue eyes. He remembered pouring himself a finger of whisky and watering it down.
So far so good.
The food was fine, he was starting to relax after eating when things started to get... Weird.
The delivery driver had come back. Just right into his small apartment, didn't even use the door.
Had he actually come back?
And he'd given Strange a bottle of Vodka, the expensive kind. Asked him if he remembered "How you used to drink in college?".
Of course he did! He'd even shown the boy how it was done!
How... Why had he done that?
Strange pulled his arm free of the brunette and put his hand over his eyes. He'd been drugged.
The memories after the alcohol got more and more blurry.
Like the hallucination suggesting he go for a drive and get something else to drink. Or him sitting in the back seat and telling Strange, high and drunk, that he should drive faster.
That he could definitely outrun the cops.
Oh.
Oh god.
He'd been in a high-speed pursuit at the behest of a hallucination.
Strange pulled his other arm free and crawled out of the bed- A hotel bed, he noticed. He definitely wasn't at home.
He took a step towards the bathroom because he was going to be sick and stepped in something warm and soggy.
It utterly reeked.
Looking down, it was a pile of animal feces.
It probably belonged to the small pony tied to the chair. Why it had the word 'Vaporeon' written on its side in blue spray-paint, he didn't want to know.
Strange was worshiping the porcelain throne when he heard the banging start on the hotel door.
He didn't need to hear them screaming "Police! Open Up!" to know he was not going to have a good day.
AN/ This isn't a short chapter, but every time I read it, it feels like it is.
Disclaimer Me Do: I own nothing you recognize. And most of what you don't recognize, I still don't own.
_________________________________________________________________________
"You know." He said to his companion. "I try to avoid lying too much. It just causes more and more problems, takes a lot of upkeep and it all falls apart with one little thing out of place."
The cat, of course, did not have an answer.
She instead had rolled over to her side to lick her belly clean while he was sitting in the dirt and petting her.
"Lucky girl. If us humans were as flexible, we'd never leave our homes." He picked her up and put her in his lap, scratching and petting her until she was purring like an engine. "Definitely thinking a lie would be better than the truth sometimes, though. I keep falling into the same mental rut and it's... Bad, Girl."
She'd latched on to his hand and was holding it against her torso with her forepaws while her hindlegs were kicking at him.
He just shook her a bit with that hand and then used the other to pet her head.
Frost, being a cat, decided she'd had enough and jumped off of him though she didn't go far. She just kept circling around him and butting her head against him while he would try to pet her.
He flopped onto his back once she'd gone around to his side, heedless of the bugs and dirt and roots. For her, this was apparently an invitation to climb on top of him and start kneading at his belly.
"...I have an idea." He admitted to the black cat after she lay down on him. "It's a really bad idea though. I'll need to go back to Gotham for a bit."
Anything involving Gotham was a bad idea. Whoever thought building a city on top of... What all was it? A hellmouth, a Lazarus Pit, some Apokolips technology and a not-quite-dead necromancer? And didn't the corpse of Trigon resurrect itself there at some point? Well, that last one wasn't a concern yet. Leslie hadn't been able to find hide nor hair of a 'Raven Roth' anywhere on the internet.
He could probably fix three of those, but he wasn't touching anything from Sector Six-Six-Six.
Not happening.
Right. Gotham's concentrated Evil problem. He remembered, vaguely, a seven-winged Holy seal that was supposed to block off infernal influences. The Vatican might even have a version of that here that he could use instead of digging around the Shop and learning it himself.
And having about as much magic as twenty-seven average people combined, he could probably power the thing all by his lonesome.
In contrast, the Lazarus Pit was decidedly simpler to deal with. He could find the design specifications and just make a small Tesla Turbine to drain the foul thing. Maybe fill up some fifty-five gallon drums and see if he could use those in case of an emergency.
Or, since he had an indestructible meta-material, he could make some full sized Tesla Turbines and drop them off at the various institutes of Science around the United States. The news reports as people try to figure that out would be worth a laugh.
He pursed his lips and thought about that. He would absolutely need to have his inventory limit modified by Berserk, or that would not work quite so well. He'd have to store the fluid seperately since he couldn't lift two-hundred kilograms by himself.
He shook his head a little bit and pulled the cats claws out of his shirt. He needed to focus.
As for Doctor Gotham? According to his memories the warlock was, by his own admission, something like forty-thousand years old. Anti-Magic might be the only way to go there.
Anti-Magic and orbital bombardment. He could figure out the whole flying deal as a dragon and just drop some metal rods.
"What do you think, hon?" The cat just purred. "Yeah, might be too long term. Think I should go talk to my guy in Gotham? I've got another idea."
Tired of being jostled and moved around, the black cat hopped off of him and wandered into the woods.
That was fair.
Alchemist got up, stretched, and disappeared.
He had to go and see a guy in Gotham for some lysergic acid diethlyamide.
-----
Hugo Strange woke up slowly, clawing and crawling his way through a migraine and a slow, thick haze to fully wake up.
His arms were being held down by something on either side of him, and opening his eyes invited sunlight to pierce directly into his brain with unbridled wrath and fury.
His tongue felt like it was covered in a thick, fuzzy layer of nastiness that tasted like an unholy combination of vodka and vomit.
He blinked, pulling the world into painful, fuzzy focus.
His glasses were missing.
On his right was a girl, some brunette with a very modest rack. On his left was another girl, blonde and smaller.
Was she even legal?
He couldn't remember much of the last night. He'd ordered delivery after a hard day of trying to do his job...
Dealing with vapid egotistical fools and brilliant morons on a perpetual power trip did not make for an easy day.
The delivery driver had shown up, some young new kid with blond hair and bright, brilliantly bright blue eyes. He remembered pouring himself a finger of whisky and watering it down.
So far so good.
The food was fine, he was starting to relax after eating when things started to get... Weird.
The delivery driver had come back. Just right into his small apartment, didn't even use the door.
Had he actually come back?
And he'd given Strange a bottle of Vodka, the expensive kind. Asked him if he remembered "How you used to drink in college?".
Of course he did! He'd even shown the boy how it was done!
How... Why had he done that?
Strange pulled his arm free of the brunette and put his hand over his eyes. He'd been drugged.
The memories after the alcohol got more and more blurry.
Like the hallucination suggesting he go for a drive and get something else to drink. Or him sitting in the back seat and telling Strange, high and drunk, that he should drive faster.
That he could definitely outrun the cops.
Oh.
Oh god.
He'd been in a high-speed pursuit at the behest of a hallucination.
Strange pulled his other arm free and crawled out of the bed- A hotel bed, he noticed. He definitely wasn't at home.
He took a step towards the bathroom because he was going to be sick and stepped in something warm and soggy.
It utterly reeked.
Looking down, it was a pile of animal feces.
It probably belonged to the small pony tied to the chair. Why it had the word 'Vaporeon' written on its side in blue spray-paint, he didn't want to know.
Strange was worshiping the porcelain throne when he heard the banging start on the hotel door.
He didn't need to hear them screaming "Police! Open Up!" to know he was not going to have a good day.
AN/ This isn't a short chapter, but every time I read it, it feels like it is.
okay, gotta say that setting up Hugo Strange of all people was a tad left field but I can dig it since the dude has always been a shadow bastard. Hope the bald menace loses the job overseeing the prison, even if I don't like what Waller does, she at least doesn't work with the LIGHT.
Also, what's with all the recent agnst, are you doing alright?
Also, what's with all the recent agnst, are you doing alright?
- Location
- Barquisimeto
The most ironic destiny that I have read. I just loved this chapter.
I'm good, BigToFu. That chapter was initially written something like a month ago, but things were fine then too. Thanks for asking though
Probably just something else I read bleeding into my writing, being perfectly honest. I've got a couple of sad stories I fall back on at times when I get tired of too much fluff.
And I think it's important to see the negative consequences of Alchemist's choices sometimes. Dropping Gamer's Mind in a DC deathworld may not have been a great idea.Next chapter is a bit more fun though. It's also where I started to consistently break them up into multiple pieces while writing them.
As they say, turnabout -is- fair play.
Who? Alchemist?
Didn't he make a deal with billionaire Bruce Wayne for a $100K salary and help with a legal identity?
Before that a lack of legal ID is an issue with making contracts and getting paid large amounts.
Without it he can't sue if somebody stiffs him.
Yeah he did make a deal but 100k is peanuts compared to what he can do. That is the amount a regular human with a good diploma can make. I think many billionaires might not know necessarily how to make a legal identity but they can definitely get him some through their connections and using plain old money.
I am pretty sure trying to stiff him is a monumentally stupid idea that no employer of his would try. It is worse than trying to stiff your bodyguards as he is a teleporting, everything curing, toad polymorphing wizard. Any one of these abilities would be worth millions to have around and the prestige of having an actual wizard employed is almost worth it alone. Not to mention the connections it can open up among his peers, "oh your daughter has an incurable disease, don't worry about it, it is handled; oh you need to be somewhere but you are late and hungover, 1 wizard taksi ride is minutes away don't worry we can throw a free cure to stop your hangover as well".
Well, there are those two girls he woke up in between. You know how they can be about recording people doing crazy stuff.
At the very least, you can't say he didn't enjoy his last day of freedom. It's just a shame he can't remember most of it. And what he does remember, he doesn't quite trust. LSD is a helluva drug.
Alchemist's contract. Remember, it was made quite early for him, well before he'd mastered any of his spells. He was still worth more than he was charging, even back then, but at the time he equated Justice League with safety. If he'd known at the time that he was in Young Justice he very likely would've hitch-hiked his ass across the country and begged Lucifer for a job as his dishwasher, bus-boy, gopher. Whatever would keep him out of the cross-hairs of The Light.
At the very least, you can't say he didn't enjoy his last day of freedom. It's just a shame he can't remember most of it. And what he does remember, he doesn't quite trust. LSD is a helluva drug.
Alchemist's contract. Remember, it was made quite early for him, well before he'd mastered any of his spells. He was still worth more than he was charging, even back then, but at the time he equated Justice League with safety. If he'd known at the time that he was in Young Justice he very likely would've hitch-hiked his ass across the country and begged Lucifer for a job as his dishwasher, bus-boy, gopher. Whatever would keep him out of the cross-hairs of The Light.
- Pronouns
- he/him
well dear old lucy is pretty chill and i guess he would probably have accepted even more if it's the tv serie version
To be honest he really is being far to nice about the situations that hey keep putting him in. It's clear that they are neglectful towards the team. From the outside looking in its bad and from the inside looking out its even worse. I get he just wants a spot to lay his head down, but maybe it's time to move out and then hit that punch clock like it's a 9 to 5.
How long was the contract for? A year and a day seems traditional for a mage. I imagine that once two conditions are met Alchemist plans to strike out on his own.
The first condition is him getting his new body and restoring Leslie.
The second condition is if the contract is for a set length of time like a year and a day, in which case he'll leave when the contract expires.
Chapter 64
Project: Gamer Ver. 2 Alpha Build 0.6.4
Disclaimer Me Do: I own nothing you recognize. And most of what you don't recognize, I still don't own.
_________________________________________________________________________
Diana arrived at the Mountain bright and early, announced only by the Zeta terminal.
She found four people there, already awake. Superboy, Power Girl, Miss Martian and Alchemist were in the rec room watching the news.
It was currently focused on a high-speed pursuit from last night in Louisiana.
Wonder Woman was no stranger to how audacious villains could be, but watching a normal, older looking man drive through the median of a highway and turn around just to double back behind the police chasing him was baffling. That he soon lost the police entirely and wasn't found again until just this very morning simply boggled the mind!
The Martian turned to wave at her while the clones seemed to lose interest in the show after it switched to less interesting topics, like economics.
"Hey Connor, Karen. Picked something up for you guys last night." Alchemist said as he got up and went to the television. He put in disc into the media player and flicked through a few menus before whatever it was started.
The screen changed to show what looked like an aerial view over a town and a simple, somewhat catchy tune started to play. Soon the scene shifted to an older man wearing a hand-knit red sweater entering a room and singing "It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood-".
He sat back down behind the counter as an old episode of Mister Roger's Neighborhood played on the screen.
Diana felt something very uncomfortable with how deeply engrossed the clones became in listening to the old man talk about expressing your feelings, and how other people express theirs.
"Alchemist." She started at a near whisper. "What encouraged you to choose this as their... Entertainment?"
"Wonder Woman." He responded at a normal tone of voice, nodding in Superboy's direction. "They have a lot to learn about how to interact with people in a way that doesn't involve punching. Batman's no good for that. Red Tornado is worse. Black Canary is perpetually angry about something."
The boy shrugged and then waved at himself.
"I'm a suspicious, secretive pessimist myself. And everyone else is a teenager with a violence problem. Watching a few episodes of Mister Roger's will do them a lot of good that I couldn't."
Diana wasn't sure what to make of that, or of the three teens listening intently to the words of a dead man preaching empathy.
She hoped Player One got here soon. Training them in how to safely fight with super-strength was somehow starting to feel more morally ambiguous.
-----
"Super Strength." Diana began after getting everyone assembled. "Is a tool first and foremost. Like any tool, it may be ill-suited to the task at hand. And just the same as any other tool, without appropriate thought and application, it will be wasted in your hands."
She cast her gaze across the assembled teens. Some, such as Robin and Kid Flash, were more interested in looking at their teammates. Others, like Miss Martian and Power Girl, were instead paying close attention to her words.
One of the children even had a notepad and was writing things down.
"As with any other power, its applications are limited for a variety of reasons. You will find that it can only very rarely be used in direct conflict. Either the individuals fighting against you will be too vulnerable to your strength and thus all too easily crippled or worse, slain. Or else you may face an opponent who is impervious for any number of reasons to direct force. Intangibility, an aqueous or gaseous form, extraordinary regeneration or simply greater strength can all be direct counters to physical might." She inhaled slowly and focused on Superboy. "And that is the key here. -Direct counters-. Where raw strength cannot be used, we must be clever. Mastering the environment is often the key to victory. If your opponent is stronger, find a way to remove their leverage. Miss Martian!"
The girl let out a squeak at being suddenly addressed.
"You are fighting someone who has greater strength than even Power Girl, what are your options in dealing with them?"
The girl floundered for a moment before coming up with an answer. "I, uh, I drop something heavy on them?"
Wonder Woman remembered the mission report for the team and the Mister Twister android... And the tactic -did- work. However...
"Then one of two things will happen. Either their strength will allow them to use whatever you dropped on them, or we have a very dead suspect." It may have been the nature of her origin, but Diana, while much more willing to resort to lethal force than many of the Justice League, did not quite feel that artificial life was so worthless as many of the others thought. "If you can lift a multi-ton boulder, why can you not lift the criminal? Without some form of innate flight? You can telekinetically lift them off the ground and remove the leverage they need to fight."
The girl looked thoughtful, so Diana chose to move on.
"Superboy. Another theoretical scenario. You lack the direct strength to bring down your foe. What can you use to fight them?" Like Power Girl, the boy was incredibly still and silent.
"...Are their joints armored? Because I would try to disable them by attacking the knees or using pressure points." He didn't sound sure, but that was the point. To get them asking questions and thinking.
"Perhaps they are, or perhaps they are not. You will not know until you try. So long as you have your team with you, make sure you have some basic tactics planned with them to probe and test the defenses and strengths of your opponents." She scanned the assembled children and her eyes landed on the one with the notepad. "Alchemist! What is the heaviest thing you could hit someone with?"
He tapped his pen against his chest, closing it and put it and the pad away. "...The earth?"
That... Was actually a fairly interesting answer. "A very good choice. In the absence of a magically or temporally created immovable object, the ground is often a very good alternative. Super-strength and Super-durability do not always translate into an improved pain tolerance."
She could see that she was starting to lose the attention of most of the boys and decided to wrap up the lecture and begin moving on to sparring and practical examples. Though she had one last thing she needed to say.
"Do not, I repeat, do not be afraid to exploit the weaknesses in your enemies form or abilities. Biting, scratching, even hair pulling may not be 'Honorable' in the middle of a fight, but when civilian lives are on the line our honor is found in their safety, not in the glory of combat. I have had to learn this the hard way. I should hope that you can instead learn it from me, rather than at the funerals of those you meant to save"
Disclaimer Me Do: I own nothing you recognize. And most of what you don't recognize, I still don't own.
_________________________________________________________________________
Diana arrived at the Mountain bright and early, announced only by the Zeta terminal.
She found four people there, already awake. Superboy, Power Girl, Miss Martian and Alchemist were in the rec room watching the news.
It was currently focused on a high-speed pursuit from last night in Louisiana.
Wonder Woman was no stranger to how audacious villains could be, but watching a normal, older looking man drive through the median of a highway and turn around just to double back behind the police chasing him was baffling. That he soon lost the police entirely and wasn't found again until just this very morning simply boggled the mind!
The Martian turned to wave at her while the clones seemed to lose interest in the show after it switched to less interesting topics, like economics.
"Hey Connor, Karen. Picked something up for you guys last night." Alchemist said as he got up and went to the television. He put in disc into the media player and flicked through a few menus before whatever it was started.
The screen changed to show what looked like an aerial view over a town and a simple, somewhat catchy tune started to play. Soon the scene shifted to an older man wearing a hand-knit red sweater entering a room and singing "It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood-".
He sat back down behind the counter as an old episode of Mister Roger's Neighborhood played on the screen.
Diana felt something very uncomfortable with how deeply engrossed the clones became in listening to the old man talk about expressing your feelings, and how other people express theirs.
"Alchemist." She started at a near whisper. "What encouraged you to choose this as their... Entertainment?"
"Wonder Woman." He responded at a normal tone of voice, nodding in Superboy's direction. "They have a lot to learn about how to interact with people in a way that doesn't involve punching. Batman's no good for that. Red Tornado is worse. Black Canary is perpetually angry about something."
The boy shrugged and then waved at himself.
"I'm a suspicious, secretive pessimist myself. And everyone else is a teenager with a violence problem. Watching a few episodes of Mister Roger's will do them a lot of good that I couldn't."
Diana wasn't sure what to make of that, or of the three teens listening intently to the words of a dead man preaching empathy.
She hoped Player One got here soon. Training them in how to safely fight with super-strength was somehow starting to feel more morally ambiguous.
-----
"Super Strength." Diana began after getting everyone assembled. "Is a tool first and foremost. Like any tool, it may be ill-suited to the task at hand. And just the same as any other tool, without appropriate thought and application, it will be wasted in your hands."
She cast her gaze across the assembled teens. Some, such as Robin and Kid Flash, were more interested in looking at their teammates. Others, like Miss Martian and Power Girl, were instead paying close attention to her words.
One of the children even had a notepad and was writing things down.
"As with any other power, its applications are limited for a variety of reasons. You will find that it can only very rarely be used in direct conflict. Either the individuals fighting against you will be too vulnerable to your strength and thus all too easily crippled or worse, slain. Or else you may face an opponent who is impervious for any number of reasons to direct force. Intangibility, an aqueous or gaseous form, extraordinary regeneration or simply greater strength can all be direct counters to physical might." She inhaled slowly and focused on Superboy. "And that is the key here. -Direct counters-. Where raw strength cannot be used, we must be clever. Mastering the environment is often the key to victory. If your opponent is stronger, find a way to remove their leverage. Miss Martian!"
The girl let out a squeak at being suddenly addressed.
"You are fighting someone who has greater strength than even Power Girl, what are your options in dealing with them?"
The girl floundered for a moment before coming up with an answer. "I, uh, I drop something heavy on them?"
Wonder Woman remembered the mission report for the team and the Mister Twister android... And the tactic -did- work. However...
"Then one of two things will happen. Either their strength will allow them to use whatever you dropped on them, or we have a very dead suspect." It may have been the nature of her origin, but Diana, while much more willing to resort to lethal force than many of the Justice League, did not quite feel that artificial life was so worthless as many of the others thought. "If you can lift a multi-ton boulder, why can you not lift the criminal? Without some form of innate flight? You can telekinetically lift them off the ground and remove the leverage they need to fight."
The girl looked thoughtful, so Diana chose to move on.
"Superboy. Another theoretical scenario. You lack the direct strength to bring down your foe. What can you use to fight them?" Like Power Girl, the boy was incredibly still and silent.
"...Are their joints armored? Because I would try to disable them by attacking the knees or using pressure points." He didn't sound sure, but that was the point. To get them asking questions and thinking.
"Perhaps they are, or perhaps they are not. You will not know until you try. So long as you have your team with you, make sure you have some basic tactics planned with them to probe and test the defenses and strengths of your opponents." She scanned the assembled children and her eyes landed on the one with the notepad. "Alchemist! What is the heaviest thing you could hit someone with?"
He tapped his pen against his chest, closing it and put it and the pad away. "...The earth?"
That... Was actually a fairly interesting answer. "A very good choice. In the absence of a magically or temporally created immovable object, the ground is often a very good alternative. Super-strength and Super-durability do not always translate into an improved pain tolerance."
She could see that she was starting to lose the attention of most of the boys and decided to wrap up the lecture and begin moving on to sparring and practical examples. Though she had one last thing she needed to say.
"Do not, I repeat, do not be afraid to exploit the weaknesses in your enemies form or abilities. Biting, scratching, even hair pulling may not be 'Honorable' in the middle of a fight, but when civilian lives are on the line our honor is found in their safety, not in the glory of combat. I have had to learn this the hard way. I should hope that you can instead learn it from me, rather than at the funerals of those you meant to save"
Nitronorm5688
The Armchair Reader
- Location
- Oakdale, CT
One of the few children's TV shows to stand the test of time. Worth it.
Ouch! That's rather harsh to say, but appropriate too.
On another note, has there ever been a comic where the superheroes talk after attending a funeral? Because I feel like that emotional impact is lacking otherwise. I can't come up with an example.
You are very welcome, and thank you for taking the time to say something
I feel like I've seen something, but for the life of me the details are missing. I feel like Marvel may have done something with this. Either involving Tony Stark drinking himself stupid after a funeral, or something with Scott Summers after one of Jean Gray's many, many funerals.
- Location
- Florida
You mentioned wonder woman origin and how she give more value to artificial life then the league. does this mean that this version of her is Clay that was given life by Gaia?
Side note: if yes then yay we get in my opinion the Arguably strongest (by strongest i mean most Potential) version of her.
Side note: if yes then yay we get in my opinion the Arguably strongest (by strongest i mean most Potential) version of her.
Well, we got two options. Either born of clay and blessed to life by the gods... Or a true-born heir to Queen Hippolyta who also has a twin brother that's been forced into slavery because the all female island disapproves of male children.
Born of clay is so much easier to work with and has a lot fewer moral schisms to try and think around.
And I can't believe I typed that and am being fully and completely serious. What the fuck, DC?
Born of clay is so much easier to work with and has a lot fewer moral schisms to try and think around.
And I can't believe I typed that and am being fully and completely serious. What the fuck, DC?
Arimai
Curmudgeon
@Mister Ficser is that an S&W M500 or a M500/M590 Mossberg? Both count as a boomstick.
Mossberg M500, it's the version in use by the military.
At least, if it hasn't been phased out yet. I know it was still in use back in 2010.
At least, if it hasn't been phased out yet. I know it was still in use back in 2010.
- Location
- Elsewhere
"I was thinking in a more 'cosmic billiards' sense, but that's good too!"
"..."
Arimai
Curmudgeon
It's still in service 2010 but were steadily being replaced with the M1014. Alchemist will have taken both I assume as for a time some Home units only had part of their stockpile updated with priority going to active combat units. Hell some National Guard Armories have only just gotten rid of the last of their post-WW2, Early Cold War stockpile in 2020. There are probably still some left overs in a corner somewhere in the depot.
Which turned out great for my collection, I got some nice pieces for cheap. They were in great condition, the armorers kept them in shape ready to use. Only God knows only why. No way in hell was the Army ever going to use them again.
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