Greywind

Sally called, when she got the word She said "I suppose you've heard about Alice" Well, I rushed to the window, and I looked outside And I could hardly believe my eyes This big limousine pulled slowly into Alice's drive Oh, I don't know why she's leaving, or where she's gonna go I guess she's got her reasons but I just don't want to know 'Cause for twenty four years I've been living next door to Alice Twenty four years, just waitin' for a chance To tell her how I'm feeling, maybe get a second glance Now I've gotta get used to not living next door to Alice Grew up together, two kids in the park Carved our initials deep in the bark me and Alice Now she walks to the door, with her head held high Just for a moment, I caught her eye As the big limousine pulled slowly out of Alice's drive Oh, I don't know why she's leaving, or where she's gonna go I guess she's got her reasons but I just don't want to know 'Cause for twenty four years I've been living next door to Alice Twenty four years, just waitin' for a chance To tell her how I'm feeling, maybe get a second glance Now I've gotta get used to not living next door to Alice Sally called back, and asked how I felt She said "I know how to help, you get over Alice" She said "Now Alice is gone, but I'm still here You know I've been waiting twenty four years" And the big limousine disappeared I don't know why she's leaving, or where she's gonna go I guess she's got her reasons but I just don't want to know 'Cause for twenty four years I've been living next door to Alice Twenty four years, just waitin' for a chance To tell her how I'm feeling, maybe get a second glance Now I'll never get used to not living next door to Alice No, I'll never get used to not living next door to Alice

Supernatural starting season 6 and the general "so, what are we going to do this season?" The first 5 seasons under Kripke were unified by his vision. Each season had a point to it leading to the next season until the s5 ending.

Technically, every module is a one-off. Unless you gather a new group that's never run it before.

Phaedra Slipping from the back of the limousine, Jason shouldered a worn leather messenger bag. He lifted the flap and checked the contents again. Sketchbook, pencils, a book from the New York museum, a print of Wagner's Lady in Blue from the same museum, other odds and ends from his drawing kit, a leather bound journal that matched the leather of the bag, and a white confectioners bag resided within. “She likes liquorice,” Jason had read in his grandfather's journal. “Do not gift it to her. Gifts bring obligations. Instead offer it as payment for her time and the fact she agreed to meet with you, if she does, in fact, appear.” Jason had wondered at the way his grandfather had written it. As if he knew that he himself would never use it to call her. “I don't like this.” Smiling at Knight, Jason said, “You never like it when I go out to sit in the sunshine.” “It isn't that,” she said. “I just have this feeling that someone is tap dancing on my grave.” Behind her sunglasses, Sharon Knight's eyes scanned the garden. “I'll do over-watch. Dragon, you accompany Mr. Scott into the garden.” Al Porter nodded. “Jake, you stay with the car.” “Yes, ma'am,” Jake Randall replied. Chuckling, Jason said, “All this for me? I'm touched.” Knight shot him an annoyed look. “Dr. Tyler and Miss Parks made it very clear that we are guardians of you and they do not want you running off like you did in the Spring trying to start a war. Sir,” she added as an afterthought. “They never let me have any fun.” His hand slipped into a smaller pocket in the front of the messenger bag. His fingers brushed the cool metal of the leaf within. Slinging the messenger bag over his shoulder, Jason said, “Let's be off then.” He set off at a comfortable pace into the garden. Al followed, his gaze constantly shifting from place to place looking for any who might seek to do harm. Jason took in the hedges and flowerbeds without really seeing them. “I'm going to sit on the bench over there by the cherry trees. Still have some blossoms,” he said, quirking a smile. “Yes, sir.” Making his way to the bench he had indicated, Jason sat. Opening his bag, he pulled out his grandfather's journal and set it on the bench. Next he pulled out the metal leaf. He wasn't sure how it would work. His fingers closed around it, his eyes slipped shut. Need calls, Actery had told him. One problem he had wasn't that he wasn't sure who he was calling. His grandfather's journal gave him an idea, but Silas Scott never actually put down her name. In the journal, places where a name would be were simply initials. Either a “P” or “WW”. Need calls. What did Jason need? It was the need for answers that had pulled Actery to him, or so Actery said. That need still existed. What had happened to Marlene and Angelique? Where had they gone? In his mind he saw Marlene lying on her belly on a blanket, legs raised and ankles crossed. She was barefoot. Her eyes flashed in the sun and she smiled at him before looking away. Beside her, dressed in pale blue, lying on her side, propped up on one elbow, was Angelique. They were talking, occasionally darting glances at him. Without realizing it, Jason reached out and set the leaf on his grandfather's journal. His other hand fished out his sketchbook and a pencil. Opening his eyes, he flipped to a fresh page and began to draw. He wanted to hold on to that image of Marlene, capture it, and stay in that moment with her. He lost himself in the activity, not thinking. Just doing. “You have some talent.” Jason blinked. His eyes refocusing on now. Judging by the shadows some time had passed. “So I've been told.” He turned to the speaker. Her hair was long and dark. A rich shade of mahogany. Her eyes were disconcerting. At first glance they were completely white except for the pupil. Jason realized they were a pale shade of blue. Her lips were rouged, kissable. Jason forced that thought down hard. She gave him a mischievous smile as if she had been aware of his thought. Her gown was white. Almost painful to look at. The collar was square with embroidery work, flowers and vines, running around it. Her belt looked like a garland. She looked small, svelte, lithe, ephemeral. But Jason sensed strength there. And power. She took up the leaf. “I never thought to see this again,” she said. Her fingers ran over the leather of the journal. “Silas.” Her eyes darted to Jason's. “Your grand-sire.” “Yes.” “What is it you want?” Taking the white bag out of his messenger bag, Jason set it on the journal. “I cannot accept gifts without first knowing what it is you want.” “It is not a gift. It is payment for your time and your effort to come.” She smiled. Something in that smile reminded him of Angelique. “I am looking for someone. Two people actually. They were in one place and then they simply vanished.” With long slender fingers she opened the bag. “Liquorice!” She grinned. “It has been a long time since I have had any.” “My grandfather said it was your favorite in his journal. I hope the payment is adequate.” She smiled at him and slipped a piece into her mouth. As Jason stared at her chewing the confection he noted similarities in her facial structure, the line of her nose, the curvature of her chin. “You're her mother,” he said quietly. She swallowed hard. “I should have known an offshoot of Silas' would be quick witted. Do you know who I am?” Smiling, Jason said, “Pieces are slipping into place for me rather rapidly now.” He took the book from his bag. He opened the book to a page he had marked and set it on the bench. “You're the White Witch. You helped the Allies during World War II.” Nodding, she said, “That was a long time ago. The artifacts and power your Axis gathered were dangerous not just to this world.” “My grandfather worked for the war effort.” She smiled at a memory. “That was how I met Silas.” Jason pulled out the print of Lady in Blue and set it on the open book. “I don't even know what to call you. 'White Witch' seems to be a mouthful.” Phaedra. Jason stared. “Mind magic. Telepathy.” She bowed her head. Tapping the print, he said, “This was done before you knew my grandfather.” “Yes. You know my daughter?” Jason gave her a real smile. “Intimately. Angelique knows me in ways only a few others do. She is one of the two people I'm looking for.” “May I?” Her hand raised towards the side of his face. “Will you share my daughter with me?” Jason's eyes narrowed. Then he smiled and nodded his assent.

https://geeksoncoffee.com/hulk-had-eaten-people/

Mmm. They call it Mudder's Milk. All the protein, vitamins and carbs of your grandma's best turkey dinner, plus fifteen percent alcohol.

First ep airs tonight.

That's one way to keep your Guy on a leash.

I think Batman needs to change the locks on the batcave.

The other side of the coin is "you don't get it if you didn't pay for it." There needs to be discussion about expectations on both sides of the screen about what some will cover and what it won't. If it comes up that something doesn't fit the base criteria of those expectations than the default falls to what the GM wants in his game.

High heat is an environmental effect. Life Support generally covers environmental effects. The torch is usually bought as a function of a RKA, which Life Support does not protect against. And honestly, aspects of Ninja-Bear's volcano should also be defined as a KA, which Life Support would also not protect against.

Because the rules don't allow it.

Marvel also drew fairly heavily on the Ultimate versions. Hawkeye's outfit was more in line with that. Just needed the shades.

Practice made perfect. Think I need to dig that out for a rewatch.

Mundane things are just that. Mundane things do not require any special skill to do unless, as the Gnome pointed out, there is a complication of some sort in play, either on the character sheet, or in the case of Cassandra's pier, in city hall indicating that the pier needs to be repaired/replaced.

Not sure what she wears can be called a costume any longer.

Shipp's Flash made a bigger mess trying to clean a room at speed.

Anything used repeatedly ends up needing to be paid for in full anyway.

...meanwhile, the guy that created Harley said Robbie nailed it...

As I said, things can change.

Cocking his head to the side, Pulsar drifted through the doorway into a break room. Tables, chairs, vending machines, coffee pot, and microwaves all took up space around the room. There was an open door to the right. He headed towards it. A man stepped through, dragging Jennie along, using her as a shield. A handgun was pointed at her temple. Power flared around Pulsar's hand. “Ah! You do anything, bro, and chickie gets ventilated.” Pulsar tamped the power down and held his hands up. “That's good, bro. See, I aim to get out of here alive. So I take this one with me and let her go somewhere down the line.” “How are you planning on leaving?” “Huh?” “Sorry, bro. Do I have to speak slower or something? How are you planning on leaving?” Pulsar asked. The man smiled, showing a few metal teeth. “SUV downstairs.” Behind his mask, Pulsar smiled. “Hate to break it to you, homie, but I trashed both SUVs before heading upstairs. The only thing they are good for is a salvage yard.” * * * * * Huntress listened as Pulsar talked and made her way through a door to her right. The room was another break room; tables and chairs, coffee pot, and microwave. No vending machines. The floor plan showed that Pulsar was two rooms away. An open door to the left beckoned her. “Then I'll take the girl's car!” “Oh, yeah, that's a no-brainer. Police won't ever be able to find a car that needs new paint on the driver's side.” Keep him talking. Huntress took a quick glimpse into the room. A storage room with cleaning supplies. Beth laid out on the floor. A folded towel was under her head and a bloody, damp towel lay beside her. Blood slowly seeped from a gash on her temple, matting her hair. Except for Beth, no one else was in the room. “Then I'll take the other truck!” “You planning on driving? I checked. That truck is a stick. A hand on the wheel, a hand on the stick, no hand for the gun.” “Then the girl can drive!” The man was getting desperate. “Can't drive a stick,” Jennie blurted out. “Sounds like checkmate, bro,” Pulsar said. Huntress smiled and stepped closer to the man. She pressed the end of her baton against the base of the man's skull. “My friend happens to like beautiful women. One of them is already injured. That's one strike against you. Let the girl go and hand me the gun or I guarantee you will not be getting out of this alive.” “Shit!” Huntress pressed a little harder. “Shit,” he said again, quieter. He raised his hands, freeing Jennie, the pistol hanging off a finger by the trigger guard. Huntress took it. “On your knees. Hands behind your head.”

Things can change, but at this point it is the same Harley that was in Suicide Squad, so Leto.

Safely assume Leto's at this point.

Birds of Prey: And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn The full title of the movie speaks plenty.