Greywind

His ego?

Leah took a few tentative steps closer to where Jason and Kris were talking quietly. In her hands was Jason's sketchbook. “I didn't realize that walking in on me when I was getting dressed stayed with you,” Kris said with a slight blush. Jason gave her a bit of a smile. He reached out and caressed her face, not unconscious of the fact that it was where, until a few months back, she had carried a scar that he had caused. “Beautiful things always stay in the memory, Kris. You've always been a very sensual woman. You just never really admitted it to yourself.” Her blush deepened. He cocked his head slightly when she looked away. “Are you okay?” Kris forced herself to smile. “We can't change the past.” “Where our friendship is concerned I only ever regret one thing,” he told her quietly. She stepped into him, wrapping her arms around and hugging him tightly. “And that's only an issue as long as you let it be. Let it go, Jason. No guilt for me. You carry too much and you fixed it.” “Jason?” Leah felt like she was intruding, but still, “can I ask you something?” Kris, blushing again, gave Leah an embarrassed smile when she let go of Jason. “What's on your mind?” She flipped open his sketchbook to the picture of her in the evening dress. “I was wondering about this.” “What about it? I thought it looked good on you,” he said with a warm smile. “Except that I don't, and never have, owned a dress like this. I don't think I've even worn one when I was modeling.” Jason looked confused. “Are you sure? Open back. Slit high on the one leg. I could have sworn I saw you in it. I've never been much for fashion design. Everything I've drawn like this, I've seen it somewhere before.” “Jason, the only place I've seen this dress was in a nightmare.”

... or just use Hero dice. Condolences, Tasha. I just got over an end-of-Summer cold. Hates them. Hates them, my precioussssss...

All I can say is "write". Whether or not it is derivative or not, write. I've written scenes that between my muse and my beta I won't use as they were written for one reason or another. That's not to say that they will never be used, but they will be revised if the basic frame will work elsewhere.

Wayne having a real relationship is few and far between. Bruce's dating relationship with WW amounted to like, one dinner at his place.

There's a reason for clichés.

She's not his type. Wayne prefers floozies. Easier to deal with lack of intelligence when he's gotta run.

...which leads to me writing. Seriously, always the GM...

Extremis?

Doom is the official Latverian superteam.

Aim? Just fill all of space with outgoing

Well, for a while there, they were legally dead.

Well, it's certainly one opinion.

The wine server poured more into Leah's glass before moving on to the others. Leah took a sip, delaying answering Warren's question. Warren watched her. Leah's eyes went everywhere except to meet his. “Leah?” She let out a heavy sigh. “No, Warren, he won't give me my job back. 'When we agreed, in good faith, to allow you your leave of absence, it was understood that you would be returning within a reasonable, if indeterminate, period of time. We' and I'd almost swear that he was using the 'royal we' in the letter I received, 'do not consider a period of two years to be reasonable and as such refilled your former position accordingly.'” “That sounds like a lawyer. So now what?” he asked. “Going to stay with the team?” Leah gave him a bit of a smile. “Not like I have anything better to do. Maybe make it official this time.” Warren chuckled. “You have always been official to the ones that mattered.” “Warren?” Leah's tone was more somber. “How come you never told me about Cheryl? I mean about how she died. I know you loved her, but nobody ever said anything about Spears before. If somebody had said something, anything, I wouldn't have even bothered to talk to him. Looking back he was too... I don't know what I'm trying to say.” “Too slick? Like a sleazy lawyer?” “Yeah. I guess.” “When... when you make a mistake... you know, we do this. We go out saving lives, fighting crime, trying to do right.” Warren stared into his wine glass for a moment. “This morning on the way in, I stopped in a diner for breakfast and a guy came in. I can't tell you what it was that made me aware of him. It might have been the way he moved. Or the way he held himself. I knew there was something off about him. Anyways, he pulls out a sawed-off and starts demanding money. Out of the till. From the waitresses. From the customers. He wanted it all. He just about crapped himself to find me standing there between him and waitress he'd pointed the gun at.” Warren set the wine down and took a drink from his water. “I can't tell you that waitress's name. She had dirty blonde, almost brown hair, and the end of it was this cherry red, like she had dip-dyed it. Her eyes were hazel. I can remember all this, but I can't remember her name. And I know I read it off her name tag. “All the lives we touch, the people we help, and we never really know their names. You know what I'm saying?” Leah nodded. “And when you screw up and someone dies, those names you learn. Those names you never forget. “We don't talk about Spears. We just kept looking for ways to prove he was dirty. Try to catch him and make good for Cheryl. Anyways, everything was in the reports from our early cases.” Leah sniffed. “You ever try reading those things? None of you were much for story telling.” Leah deepened her voice. “Thumper robbed bank. We stopped him. End of report.” Warren laughed. “Working on your Ronon Dex impersonation?” Leah laughed with him. “At least you're laughing. I was beginning to think you were slipping into the Pit of Despair.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I didn't mean to bring up bad memories.” “There's good memories. And regrets. I can't deny that, but right now I really wish Kate were here. I haven't been able to take her dancing in the last six months.” “Well, Speedy,” Leah said, “I guess you'll have to settle for dancing with me, then. What would Kate say if I left you sitting all night?” They both laughed.

Card Shark was an organization in Dark Champions: Heroes of Vengeance. The leader was also known as Card Shark. The then-current leader (the fifth, in no small part due to the efforts of the Harbinger of Justice) was a CCB Martial Artist with a Throwing Cards multipower. Others in the organization included One-Eyed Jack, Pokerface, Jack of Diamonds, Deadman's Hand, Blackjack, the Face Card Agents, and the Deck Agents.

Not to mention Perez's running joke of Janet always having a different costume.

That depends on the nature of the campaign. If one character out of the lot has NCM in a supers campaign, then he may not need GM's permission. Like Tony Stark who gets stat bonuses from his armor.

...unless they start paying double points.

Cement mixer in an overhead lift.

Except when they were drawing him the size of Mighty Joe Young or King Kong.

From the DC page:

The $50 kit for the minions looks nice.

No. I allow some homages, but no direct translations. My world unpolluted by DC/Marvel.

...unless she likes it.

Only if their punching something is their primary means of doing damage. Characters like the Scarlet Witch strike a pose and point. Oh, and Wanda does have training in the martial arts courtesy of Captain America. Why are you so insistent on finding an argument?