csyphrett

Super Attack Combo Rysei is a fan of fighting games given the ability to copy fighting games moves for his superpowered side. He is more than capable of taking on trained combatants until his power wears off. CES

You can try Foyles War which are mysteries set in wartime, Doc. Also I found event timelines and maps for troop movements online if you make it to the war. CES

It's a pelican riding a crocodile's head. CES

I thought that was his footprints CES

Tell them you don't know me, Ellis. Tell them we've never met. They will kill you. Don't you understand? They will kill you. Sure, sure. BLAM CES

I'm sitting here listening to Christmas music. Let's have a team based around Christmas music. We'll call them the Carolers. Let's have seven heroes. CES

Parlin is the brick of the group. His low level strength is accentuated by the ability to attack flaws in materials. This allows him to break into vaults and through physical defenses. CES

Watched Into the Spider Verse. I liked it. I thought I was going to lose an eye with the fight at the end. Spider Ham taking on the Scorpion was great. CES

The powers listed for the character. I've seen the first season of Railgun. I thought the spark effect was a damage shield but it isn't. It's just agitated air. CES

looking at her powers, she doesn't flash anyone. She throws lightning, emp pulses, or uses the railgun. You can build a flash into the lightning, but it's not a separate power. CES

take the flash out of the multipower and link it. I'm not really sure that is qualifies as a flash when it acts like a damage shield. CES

3 Logan sipped his coffee as he sat at his kitchen table. He checked paperwork for his holdings before he headed into the paper. He wondered how the Aardvarks and the Razorbacks were taking his demand and warning. They were probably not going to get out of town. “Hey, Dad!,” said Brady. “I’m heading out.” “I need you to be ready tonight,” said Logan. “We’re going to have to talk to someone.” “I’m always ready,” said Brady. “What’s going on?” “I’ll have to talk to some malefactors,” said Logan. “I might need a backup.” “I can do that,” said Brady. “What are we going to do?” “I have asked some gangs to leave town,” said Logan. “I don’t think they will.” “All right,” said Brady. “I’ll get ready as soon as I get home.” “All right,” said Logan. “I’ll call your mother to let her know.” “Thanks, Dad,” said Brady. He ran out of the house with his back pack slung over his shoulder. Logan finished his coffee. He put the paperwork in his bag. He could work on it later at the office. He walked into the garage and got behind the wheel of his Datsun. He triggered the door and backed out on the driveway. He drove into town and parked in a slot at the paper. He went inside and settled at his desk. He found an envelope on his desk. He put his bag on the floor. He opened the envelope and dumped out photos on the wooden top. Logan spread the photos out. He opened his desk and pulled out a magnifying glass. He looked the photos over. He scratched his eyebrow as he went over the pictures. He sat back in his chair when he was done. He had seen this stuff before. He had thought the user dead. Did he have the old guy getting back into business, or a new guy with old equipment? How did he find out? A relative taking on the family business seemed to be the best option in his opinion. Logan decided to start with a search. Maybe putting in slick villain thief would prompt a memory to bob to the surface. Then he could narrow down his search, maybe use the electronic morgue to search for stories. The first few answers gave him the name of Teflon Billy Burke. He leaned back in his chair. Billy Burke was a name he hadn’t heard in a long time. He looked up the number for Phillips. Maybe he could point his reporter at Burke. A little digging might turn up something. “Hello,” said Phillips. “This is Major,” said Logan. “I think Teflon Billy is our thief from the pictures you left me.” “Teflon Billy?,” said Phillips. “I don’t know that name.” “He’s a low level villain that can control friction,” Logan said. “See if you can get some background on him. Maybe you can turn up something we can turn over to the police.” “What made you think of this guy?,” asked Phillips. “The pictures you took,” said Logan. “I did a search for frictionless thieves.” “Really?,” said Phillips. “I’ll look into this Teflon Billy. Maybe there is something there.” “Did you narrow the embezzler down?,” asked Logan. “Not yet,” said Phillips. “I got a lot of public paperwork together and asked an accountant to look things over for me.” “Thanks, Phillips,” said Logan. “I heard Log Man threatened the Razorbacks and Aardvarks,” said Phillips. “Good,” said Logan. “Has anyone come forward to tell the cops what happened?” “Not yet,” said the reporter. “They don’t think Log Man can run them off.” “All right,” said Logan. “Let me know. I want to keep the pressure on so we have something to report.” “Clinton is reported as wanting to kill Log Man,” said Phillips. “I wish him the best of luck as long as we can cover the story,” said Logan. “Let me know what you find out.” “Right,” said Phillips. Logan cut the connection as he considered what he should do to bend the gangs to his will. He wanted one of them to confess. If he had that, he could axe part of the gangs and send them to prison. Logan worked through the day, going over the finances and anything else that required his attention. He felt that the newspaper would be able to ride out any economic downturn at least for a while. He checked the time. He had to get home to pick up Brady. They had to talk to the gang members. Once he had a handle on that, he could try to force a confession. He hoped Brady would be able to help him with that. He wanted to get them together to force something out of them. Logan reclaimed his Datsun. He took the expressway home. He wasn’t going to beat his son’s bus. He pulled up to his gate. He opened the gate and drove in. He parked his car and went inside the garage. He went into the house and put his case inside his office. “Hey, Brady!,” he called. “Are you home?” “I’m here, Dad,” called Brady. “I ready to go when you are.” “We have some time before sundown,” said Logan. “That’s cool,” said Brady. “Let’s get a snack,” said Logan. “We don’t know how long we’ll be chasing these guys tonight.” “I have school tomorrow,” said Brady. “We’ll try to get them all before ten,” said Logan. “If we can’t, we’ll work on it tomorrow night.” “Don’t forget you and Mom have to go to that event the day after,” said Brady. “The Charity Ball,” said Logan. “I forgot.” “Don’t tell Mom that,” said Brady. “She will skin you alive.” The two had walked into the kitchen while they were talking. Logan got ingredients out of the refrigerator so they could make sandwiches before they left on their rounds. “How much effort do you think this will take?,” asked Brady. He chowed down on his sandwiches after getting a can of Coke from the pantry. “I don’t know,” said Logan. “I want to make them so miserable, they would rather leave than conduct business here.” “We might be following these guys around for months,” said Brady. “There’s no way they are going to just let us interfere in their gangbanging.” “Until I get a name, they will not work in my town,” said Logan. “And they might not work in my town if they do give me a name.” “We would have to stop doing our patrols to harass these guys,” said Brady. “We wouldn’t be able to help other people if we did that.” “Good point,” said Logan. “Let’s see what happens when we have our visit.” They finished their meal, watching for the sun to go down. They didn’t want either of the rival gangs seeing them when they moved in. “Looks like it’s time for us to go,” said Logan. “Let’s get the Log Mobile and get to work.” “Right, Dad,” said Brady. The Majors walked into the garage. Wood covered their bodies as they moved. Leaves formed capes. Logan pressed a hidden lever. A wooden car dropped down on a cradle from the ceiling. Logan climbed behind the wooden wheel. He extended his will and the car rolled off the cradle. He backed out of the garage and down the driveway to the gate. He pulled out on the street and headed into town. “Someone is going to see us doing that one day,” said Brady. “I hope not,” said Logan. “It would be really embarrassing.” He drove to the fast food place Clinton favored. He doubted the gang leader had stayed home in the face of a threat. He would want to show that he wasn’t scared even when he should be. “There they are,” said Logan. He drove to the back of the fast food place. “You ready?” “Yep,” said Brady. “Pinecone, the boy exploder, is always ready.” They got out of the Log Mobile and walked around the restaurant. Clinton’s gang saw them coming. Some of them reached for weapons. Pinecone exploded into a shower of thin disks that flew right at the gang. The suspected criminals dove for cover as their vehicles captured the flying missiles. Log Man darted forward. Logs flew in a shower of wooden pain at the cars. The sounds of smashing glass and bending metal filled the parking lot. Clinton looked at the destruction. He turned to glare at the Log Man. A fist put him on his back. “I told you to get out of town,” said Logan. “Why are you still here?” “You don’t tell me what to do, you freak,” said Clinton. “I do what I want.” “That’s fine,” said Log Man. “I can keep coming back until you have nothing left.” “Isn’t this illegal?,” asked one of the other members of the gang. “You wrecked our stuff.” “I guess you’re right,” said Log Man. “Don’t be in town tomorrow, and I won’t wreck your stuff.” “You can’t do this,” said Clinton. “I’ll kill you first.” “I will start putting people in the hospital until I hear something,” said Log Man. “Your best bet is to sit down with the police and figure out who shot the little boy. I won’t have a reason to come around then.” “None of us did that,” said Clinton. “We were shooting at Bardem’s guys. They were shooting at us. They must have shot him.” “How do I prove that?,” asked Log Man. He smiled at a sudden idea. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “You can’t keep coming back,” said Clinton. “I’m going to talk to Barden,” said Log Man. “Then I have some things to do. I’ll be back to talk to you this time tomorrow.” “I hope he kills you,” said Clinton. “I hope you get a little smarter,” said Log Man. “This is my city, not yours, not Barden’s. I make the rules, I call the plays. If I don’t get what I want, there will be no room for Aardvarks, or Razorbacks. And no one will miss you.” “I’ll find a way to get rid of you,” declared Clinton. “I already have a way to get rid of you,” said Log Man. “Let’s go, Pinecone.” The wooden duo retreated to the Log Mobile. Log Man drove away from the burger place with a wave for the gang as he went. “So we’re going to talk to this Barden?,” asked Brady. “I have to be an equal opportunity villain beater,” said Logan. “It’s in my contract.” “You know how to prove what happened,” said Brady. “I could see it when you paused.” “It’s not definite proof,” said Logan. “It’s a possible thing that we can use to crack the case.” “Do we let them off the hook?,” asked Brady. “No,” said Logan. “They’re not giving us anything. We’re taking it from them.” “All right,” said Brady. “What are you going to do?” “We’re going to check on our other suspects, then we’re going to do a patrol to see if anyone needs us,” said Logan. “Then we’re headed home unless we have an emergency to deal with first.” “Sounds good to me,” said Brady. “What are you going to do to crack this?” “I’m going to think about what I’ve read,” said Logan. “Then I am going to do some research.” The Log Mobile rolled into the night, lights made of plant chemicals glowing from it.

The villainess known as the Fan, incorporates dance and martial arts based around her razor sharp fans that she uses to cut her opponents to ribbons CES

The Coconaut is a rescue operator because of his hardened hide and weaponized internal water CES

i have taken some liberties. Lolth is the patron spider goddess of the Drow from D&D. So when I needed a spider man, I called on a spider maiden instead, and then did it again. CES

The Alamance County Sheriff's Office caught on to a plot to try to blow a hole in their jail to allow a prisoner to escape. They arrested the two men involved CES

Apple Jack is a normal human who seemingly cannot be killed. There are many rumors but a place called Hersperides comes up more than once. CES

The Moon Webster is Spider Moon's mother, Bolo. I don't write romance. CES

I went and found the page Freakboy's Christmas Knights were on in the hero thread. I think there was another batch but I am not sure . The team is down at the bottom of the page CES

The suggestion is parts of his and comrades' organizations would profit somehow in the construction. Or maybe he just hates Latin people that much. CES

I picked Charlotte since it is an hour away from my house using 77 some days. I have used various Carolinian heroes over the years for personal things but I am going with Red Bird who basically is an armored Hawkman that uses claws built into his gloves. I would have used the Blue Crescent from South Carolina but he can't fly. Same with the Checker from the Hero Thread. Red Bird has been based in Raleigh but has been seen all over the state, and a move to a base in Charlotte-Mecklinburg won't inconvenience him. CES

i would love to help you but I don't have any sheets. We have done holiday heroes for the Create a Hero thread. You might be able to search that. I know I had the Saint for all saints day CES

build the character without the witchblade, then build the witchblade with the points that are left. CES

I'm sorry that you're going to end your campaign, Bolo. You know from my writeups that I am a killer GM so my position is the same as Surrealone. If the players start killing people, then they have to justify that to the law. Other criminals, especially friends of the criminals, decide it's okay to do massive attacks and so forth, and blame it on the players. Vampire Elvis turns one of them into a vampire. When i was running Domino City, one of the rogue's gallery played at being the hero and making the heroes look incompetent. I loved the whole captain america speeches on the news after he performed a rescue. "This fire could have been so much worse if my colleagues hadn't contained it until I arrived. The city needs to thank its Defenders for such selfless courage given their capabilities. Now I must away." CES

The Shield 1940 4 It took Flanagan a small amount of minutes to make a small batch of his formula and let it sit. He noted that after a few minutes it would solidify into a hard shell. How did he apply that to make armor? He realized he could do a chestpiece with a tailor’s dummy using a shirt. He couldn’t build the rest into a suit unless he created pieces to protect him like ancient armor. He would still need to drill holes once he had the pieces set out to put in ties so he could wear everything, unless he used pockets. He sat down and thought about that for a minute. He could make pads and then use pockets to seal them inside the suit. He frowned at that. It would work great unless the cloth was destroyed. The pads would fall out of place. He needed a way to keep the fluid still fluid but also capable of taking the impact he had already seen. If he couldn’t do that, he would have to settle for making a bulletproof vest and wear that under his clothes from then on. He thought about the potential armor for a while. His experiment had protected him from a stick of dynamite as it blew into fragments. He was lucky to still have his legs, but he hadn’t been seriously hurt. He considered that he had been the target. It made sense except for the weapon used. Why hadn’t they used a gun when he left the factory? That made more sense unless they wanted to kill part of the crew too, possibly wreck the place just enough to knock it out of business but not enough where it would cost a lot to renovate. How soon would it take for them to try again? He had too many variables and he wasn’t sure if Courtland was behind the attack. He needed to make sure before his board tried to muscle him out on the street. If he had the armor, he could sell that to the government for the war effort. That would take things out of his hands except as the maker of the armor. The problem was he couldn’t figure out a way to make it mobile. If he could solve that problem, the Army would pay through the nose to have a regiment of bulletproof soldiers. And that would stop any problems with Courtland trying to buy the company. He got the log book. He looked at the formula for the mix. He frowned as the letters moved in his head as he looked at the chemicals and how much of each he had used. He saw some shifting of ingredients as he thought about making a more flexible mix. He wrote down a formula on the next page of the log book with his pen. He regarded the new formula, comparing it to the old one. This might be what he wanted. He had to make a batch and see what happened when he dipped a shirt in it. Flanagan smiled. Once he had a suit, he just needed to test it to see what it could do under pressure. He got a suit out of his office. He frowned when he realized he was almost out of spare clothes. He would have to bring some more down when he had time. He put everything on hangers and hooks on the wall next to his working area. He pulled the chemicals he needed from the shelves. He mixed everything together as precisely as possible. When he sold the formula to the Army, he would have to buy blenders and tubes to place each mix in its bowl to come down an assembly line. The workers would have to be aware to keep the stuff moving, or the hoses empty. Once it was frozen in place, they would have to take the hoses apart and replace the blocked section. Flanagan poured his mix into a vat. He put the frozen mix in a bowl on a shelf. When he had time, he would try to chisel the stuff out of the bowl so he could use it later. He took his suit, folded everything up, and stacked that in the vat inside the mix. He placed his shoes on top. He shut the lid and set the timer. Once the timer went off, he would pull his things out and test them. If they were as bulletproof as his original experiment and easier to wear he should be one step closer to what he wanted. The timer went off as he thought about other things he could put to work. His mind seemed to generate methods all by itself. He wrote most of his ideas down in his logbook so he could use them later. He opened the vat. He grabbed tongs and reached into the vat. He pulled out his suit and shoes. He frowned at the color change first. The suit had been a brown when he put it in, now it was blueish purple. Then the suit had looked tacky to the touch. He realized that he should have put the items in one at a time. He pried them apart with heavy work gloves so he didn’t have any of the stuff cover his own hands. Flanagan shook his head. He should have thought about putting everything in separately. That was stupid of him. He hung the clothes up on the hooks. He realized he should have put down a drop cloth first. He went and grabbed an old painter’s cloth and dropped it under the hanging clothes. He placed the shoes upside down on the cloth at the edge. He had really flubbed this. He checked the vat. He still had enough of the mix to try another test. He just needed more clothes. Would the material stay fluid while he went and got another suit and shoes? He watched as the excess dripped off his hanging clothes. He frowned as the color remained. Maybe he had done some of the needed things the wrong way, but he still might have his suit of armor. He waited and watched. The drop cloth turned purple under the clothes. He wondered if he should install a heat lamp to dry new suits faster. Flanagan waited until nothing else fell on the drop cloth before he touched the jacket with the tongs. They didn’t stick to the material. He grabbed the sleeve with the tongs and pulled. The sleeve stretched for a few inches, but no further. He smiled as he put the tongs aside. The mix hadn’t moved from the cloth to the steel at all. Would it be as bulletproof as the original hardened mix he had invented first? He hung the suit jacket on his impromptu shooting range. He got his thirty eight and loaded it. He fired at the jacket. The bullets hit but didn’t go through. The suit jacket filled the dents as he watched. He got a knife and tried to stab the jacket. The point turned aside. He tried to cut it with scissors. The blades wouldn’t close. He got his lighter and held the flame to a sleeve. Nothing happened. Would it stand up to a stick of dynamite? He didn’t have a way to test that other than getting blown up. He decided he didn’t need another trip to the hospital. Flanagan had a suit of armor for protection. Could it be worn? What kind of procedures could he put in place to mass produce the thing for others? Why was it dark purple? He decided that he could wear the suit jacket over his regular shirt and pants. He didn’t want to test the whole thing out if he didn’t need it. He pulled the suit jacket on. He stretched this way and that to make sure the thing would move with him. He smiled at the smoothness. He decided he needed to take a nap. In the morning, he would have to go to the office and talk to Coutri about the contracts and the security force he needed. Then he needed to change his will so his company would not fall into the wrong hands. His board members were okay in their way, but they had no clue about how things worked outside their boardrooms. Selling his company would be number one on their agenda if he couldn’t put a stop to things. He needed to make sure Courtland was responsible, or knew what was going on, before he tried to do anything against the man. Once he had an idea, he could try to gather evidence to hand over to Dern. Others could be vigilantes, but he had responsibilities to his employees and his customers. Running around in a mask was not something he could just do because he wanted to do that. He hoped he could settle things without a prolonged war. The contracts with the government could fall through if this carried on too long. His company could lose one contract but not every contract afterwards which is what he was looking at if Courtland did try to damage his factories and chemical plants. If he couldn’t secure contracts with the government in a reliable way, most of his business would dry up. Then he would have to lay people off. He wasn’t going to allow that to happen. Flanagan decided to take his jacket out and wear it around. If nothing happened to it, then he had a bulletproof piece of cloth as light as anything made. If the formula did something to the fabric, then it was back to the drawing board. He didn’t see any disadvantages. And it was late enough that the streets wouldn’t be full of people. He could hit any late night place that was open, get something to eat, and then come back to work on anything else that he might like to do. And when his mind needed to shut down, he could take a nap without worrying about anyone breaking into his lab. He made sure he had his money. He needed to get his identification replaced as soon as possible. He would have to go down to the license office and get one sometime between all the meetings he foresaw. Flanagan took one look around before he stepped out and locked up his lab. He scanned the hall as he went upstairs. The factory looked like it was going full steam. He waved at one of the supervisors before he crossed the factory to the door. At least no one was throwing dynamite at him. He walked down to the guard box, stepping around the arm blocking the drive. He waved at the guard. He turned and headed down the road. He could see the lights of the city and the walking felt good to his addled brain. The impact of bullets against his back threw him down where he stood. //209548