(26 replies, posted in Fans)

Well...Marvel has Ghost Rider, Deadpool.

As I see it Marvel's Atlantis is cooler, Namor the Submariner is more interesting than DC's Aquaman. With wings or not...Although Black Manta is still one of my favorite villains.

Then again it's Batman that got me into comics in the first place. Can't beat his villains.

The new Ghost Rider arc should be awesome though. *Spoiler Tag*
The two Ghost Riders (Danny Ketch and Johnny Blaze) protecting the antichrist so that the angel who just took over heaven can't rewrite the bible.

DC kinda screwed itself with Countdown and Amazons Attack. (I don't read comics much but I do read wiki's and such. Check out Atop the 4th Wall if you like comics either way)

Cool fact though, Archie's The Shield predates Captain America. Making him the first American themed super-hero.


(17 replies, posted in Serious Geeking)

I'm under the impression Deadpool wins by default. He's practically immortal. Besides the fact that he can teleport is an advantage.
Maybe if he used a disentegrator. Couldn't say.

I'd say Boba has more in common with DC's Slade Wilson, a.k.a Deathstroke the Terminator.
Some of us might know him from the Teen Titans cartoon. That's just me. I don't know too much about the character since I don't read DC stuff very often.


(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

(I'm game.)
They'd crawled clear from the sewer. Rando suffered tearing the rodent's jaw loose as it bled, and screamed, and then died. It'd attempted to take the whole of his calf in its mouth and then tear the oversized chunk loose.
The fun part was slowly removing one tooth from his jaw at a time as Flying W poored an anti-bacterial agent over the open wounds before bandaging them.
The bacta tank was a wreck, Rando guessed this part of the complex was built before hand and then abondoned as such.
"We're in the walls. That's clever." Rando pulled the last molar loose with a flick of the surgical knife they found. He threw it aside.
"You noticed too, huh. Yeah, I guessed we walked further than I thought." Flying W gathered what he could of the stash of supplies and shoved them into an over-the-shoulder bag.
"We need to keep moving." Rando got up, testing his leg. In his luck would be to die of some disease after everything.
"Yes, yes we do." W put a hand on either side of a locker, it crashed onto an overturned droid."The first time I opened this, I felt a draft."
Seemed a space behind the locker had been cut out. Crudely, as if someone had kicked holes in it.
Flying W looked up,"I smell fun."
Rando smelled blood.


(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Rando swore outright, about to pray that he'd misheard something. Rather, his first reaction was to open the door to the stairs. The lights blazed on and nothing, he wasn't dead. He walked down the steps, counting them. Fifteen from head to foot, still alive. The space was empty, wall to wall blank. Rando turned back toward the staircase, which was when he noticed the door.
Hand on the control he cautiously keyed the door. It slid open, his skin hadn't melted off yet. The space within was a number of shelves, with a few scattered clay jars. Magnificent hand crafted pieces. A similar design was rendered to each, an insect of some kind coupled by a location. A park, a garden, a city for example.
The stench of his work became the forebearer of his appearance, Flying W had descended the stairs as well.
"Quaint, are they empty?" W snatched one, reaching over Rando's shoulder.
His examination covered the contents, dried out husks of what once had been animals. Flying W made no move to touch or remove them.
"It's too bad he left these here, such a horrid locale. Hutts..." With that he replaced the cover of the jar and set it on the ground.
Rando moved out of the way, the other man removing the other five jars. Then the shelves and finally he stepped into the closet and closed the door. He returned in a couple of minutes thereabouts, ecstatic.
"What's so exciting about a closet?"
"What's so exciting about death at the hands of the other crazies looking for medical treatment?"
The front door was blown open. Someone else had a few choice words on the state of the kitchen. Flying W had left the drained corpses where he'd cut them. A keen distraction, who knew if the cause of the gore was still around after all.
Rando was about to throw himself into the small cramped space when a hand stopped him.
"Take the cover off every jar, space them six inches apart, and then immediately run through this door. Do not look back or stop."
Flying W disappeared, Rando did as he was told. With that he flung that door open, the first step in had been a hole in the floor. He passed six rungs of a metal ladder on the way down. But he'd managed to close the door.
"Where are we?" Rando rubbed his bruised head.
"I'd say a rudimentary sewage system beneath the battledome. Or a very good facade. Sounds like fun doesn't it?" Did this place smell worse than the corpses? His nose felt like it had shut-down completely.
Above, the party in search of the med facilities had finished their sweep of the rest of the house. The basement was all that was left.
Four of them strode down, taking no effort to hide their entrance. Survival at this point was all that was left, thought had been ruled out. A woman among them clenched the stub where he arm had been, wrapped in a used under shirt she'd already stained the lot of it red.
"Cleo! C'mon, just one more step and I'm sure it'll be here! C'mon, one more ste-" Her companion fell silent, eyes darting from one side of the blank room to the other. Then to the floor.
His last thought was of an evening on Raxus Prime, so long ago before the pain removed any chance of even that.
Cleo screamed, but there was nothing to do. The three behind her were too confused to make a retreat, she wasn't in the usual condition to beat them around to escape. They were trapped on the stairs, until the next fellow stepped off from the foot to investigate.
The once stoic basement was alive with the chittering of new life. Thousands of insectoid legs began to reach up and over the edge of their jars. Having been in contact with the moisture in the air, they'd been given new life. Escaping their purposefully dried shells.
And they were hungry. Working as a single entity they struck, with barely a minute passed they'd already begun to drag them down and off the stairs.
"We'll be safe so long as we stay in an environment with more or less moisture in the air than where they hatched. So, unless Gerba manages to completely alter the environment within the battledome, I'd say we're alright." Flying W was ahead, walking down the muck spread track running on the edge of the pipe.
They stopped at another ladder, Flying W began to ascend.
"If I'm right, we'll come out on the main street in the middle of the new found mob."
Rando ascended first, poking his head out right where he didn't need to be. The bacta tank. With Flying W pushing him to continue he was caught between.
Something bit him and stayed there.


(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Still hoping to continue, if not, please bother to send another good rpg my way. If this round wasn't too terrible anyway.


(1 replies, posted in Collecting)


Jlist wrote:

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(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

"That parasite!" Flying W took a swig of water ffrom Rando's flask and threw it back.
"Well, I don't know to say."Rando laughed under his breath.
Steps out of the purmacrete they'd been surrounded. Six thin, gangly creatures with blaster pistols trained on them.Unfortunately, with the way the day was going, they just didn't care. Imagining the problem didn't exist helped a little.
"Hand the rifle over!" The lead had said three times already. If wasn't going to shoot now, then he never would. A moment passed and nothing, just another demand for them to disarm themselves.
"It has been a very long while in here hasn't it? I think they've gone crazy with staying alive!" Flying W swung the gourd loose in his hand, the stopper was missing.
Rando picked out the boy from earlier, being shouldered by a woman in the back. They'd been watched and slow about it.
"I propose we go our separate ways. We have nothing you need." Rando kept the cycler strap firm in one hand.
"Yeah, but they have something I want..." Flying W stepped forward. Rando snapped the pistol out of the nearest hand and with a diving roll came out of the circle.
The first fractured anguish split the air. He looked up from the ground to see a sword tip ease out of place in the man's sternum. Blood dripped lightly from the edge, quickly drieing out. Less than a minute passed, and Flying W remained standing. Unharmed and clean.
"Grab two bodies and follow me..." Any hint of his indirect sardonic nature had been wiped off. Rando followed suit after finding a place to tuck the pistol. He looked back to see the boy and woman gone.
They pulled them up stone steps, through a dull metal door, and with determined ease Flying W knocked the kitchen table out of his way. He stacked the corpses, two high around a central square.Within that square, he placed the gourd.
He started working, making slow deliberate incisions with a basic metal knife. Life cascaded, death stained the confines in a bitter acrid film on the air. Rando stepped outside and swore. Then looked toward the house next to them, a human was working. His head raised slowly up, Rando jumped back inside. Hoping he hadn't been seen, but he knew the motion had been.
The stench had gotten worse, now with no where for even barely decent air, and neighbors he was caught.
He stalked up the stairs, to open a window. Let everyone else know a lunatic was fileting bodies inside.



(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

"I can't breathe! I know that's what you're thinking, deep down in that sub par cranium. I can just taste the moment, as the poisons fill your lungs when your pride collapses...that's when I'll have it." Flying W was ecstatic, he'd found a prisoner to play with.
His hands were firmly planted on the youth's head, contact improved his abilities, and in this case the image of being breathless was so firmly planted in the boy's brain he wasn't even trying to. His chest had stopped falling, and the race had begun. Still looking for the two that had escaped the basement, this unfortunate soul had stumbled in their path.
If he didn't know anything, only Flying W would see it. And in this drastic reality, only W was there to hear the boy. His screams, his confession.
He began to breathe once more, he'd cracked. Flying W took his hands away, the boy fell, out.
"Well, it appears they won't be too hard to find. Just left the building block, according to our friend here. I wish I could just pierce the mind through to the core, could've been done earlier."
"Let it be, they'll tell you anything to live." Rando had his arms crossed, they were too open for something like this. His eyes hadn't stopped moving since they'd started. Watching for that eventual attack.
"Oh no, no, no! You don't understand, I can't get them out from under my skin! If I don't, well..." Rando casually stepped away from the approaching lunatic,"I want to meet these great slayers, want to taste the blood running from their feet. What's my reason? Who cares for reason, it's just something I must have!"
Rando sighed and refused to argue. Every second spent together was Flying W's advantage, he'd no escape now. But such is the way that opens up before him. He took a look at the boy, passed out on the cold purmacrete, and pulled him inside a nearby doorway.
As much sympathy as he could afford to give. He caught up to Flying W, and cautiously walked behind.


(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

"It seems I misunderstood the risk of venturing down here." Flying W held his hand over one eye in concentration, even the white blood could affect him,"I confused us both, the moment we ventured down here I lost control. The remains here played out a fantasy we might not have escaped from."
They had separated from the group, and investigated that ominous buzzing sound. No allies but themselves once more. But in doing so had started a lie just in entering the door. The blood, the gore had jump started Flying W's latent abilities and lead them along stunningly.
Or at least it had Rando going along for the ride, Flying W didn't appear too troubled.
"But at least you got to a play the hero for a little while," W snickered. Rando had doubts it had been an accident.
"We're in a basement, insoles deep in blood and guts. What did we come down here for?" Rando readjusted the cycler strap anxiously.
"Oh, lookin' around. I was hoping we could show up in time to save a couple of sentient's lives. Get some actual allies. Rather than unstable killers and thieves..." Flying W laughed as he began to ascend to the top floor once more," But seriously, white blood just isn't to my tastes."
They exited the house, Flying W leading them along by a trail of blood droplets. They'd find a lizard, or another victim.
(My last post had Rando and Flying W leaving Mel's group and going into the same building as Scifi and Gunslinger. Since you rewrote that part I changed the end result as them coming in after the fact but seeing themselves fighting from an overreaction to the blood.)
(Hopefully not written too terribly.)


(21 replies, posted in Fans)

That's great! I especially like the bit about adding the "u" back into words.


(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

Rando watched from the head of where the stairs would have been. Pulled along by Flying W, who it seemed, had already grown tired of their group. His attention had been easily dragged here, as had Rando. For once his curiosity had given him something worthwhile.
"Hand me the cycler. Some target practice wouldn't hurt."
Rando tossed the loaded slugthrower over. Flying W took his time, waiting for the Trandoshan to stop flailing. But suddenly jerked the barrel up. They'd been noticed. The white splatter was blown back, a half skull shape splashed onto the wall.
"It's never easy, is it?! Come on, come at me bug face!" W dropped the cycler and unsheathed his broadswords. He lept to the floor.
Rando grappled with the cycler, threw the strap over his shoulder once more, and expertedly fell from his perch. Which was a technical term for slipped, on a dab of white blood.
Recovering quickly, aided by fear. He cursed the Hutts in total, hopped to his feet from his back. The cycler strap, as if trying to help, came loose. Nimbly, he paced his motion. Avoiding the crazed Trandoshan, he whipped through an insect coming at the both of them.
Flying W was enjoying himself, Rando's stomach was buckling. Neither of them knew what the other was doing, too busy.
Rando refused to die in a basement, in the same sort of hole he'd lived in for years. Nar Shaddaa had laid an egg in him, it hatched in that despicable hole.
He came alive. Bugs began to die, before their wee brains could catch up. He'd die under the sun, in the sun if he could.
(Hopefully not a bad arrangement.)


(204 replies, posted in Role Playing)

"It's crowd control, get back in there." Flying W easily pushed the curious Rattataki back inside the room while at the same time throwing his hip in just such a way he went with her and the door shut.
There was another stairwell on the other side. Hopefully they were already piling out down that one. Rando let go of the sill and deftly dropped the window with a click. It slid down on the spy's fingers, which Rando had hoped, just like in the holo-toons.
He enjoyed the one about the Womp Rat and the Nexus.
Rando slipped the cycler over his shoulder, thankful for the uncharacteristic attached strap and hurried down the stairs. He met up with the rest of the group and was again last in line.
Things had barely calmed down outside. So much was in motion, and Rando had been the only one to see the peeping tom-the name of the nexus in the holo-toon, that's what it was- which forced his interest.
He tore from the group and headed back around the house. Whoever it had been, was gone.
Rando did a light check and headed back. Catching what he thought was a heavy buzz in his ears from the building next door for a split second.
The front door had been left opened. Rando was forced to ignore it.

(I feel all alone...Mel is still gone...and I'm sorry but I don't remember the third person...)


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

I practice martial forms with one of mine. And the other is a ceremonial piece I keep for Inspiration.
For the experience, it's amazing to hold a sword and move through a martial arts form with it. It's an exciting recreation of history.
But to have a collection of something and not use it...it's like collecting army tanks I guess. You do it because you can.

There was a guy who strapped a sword to his back and held up traffic for a few hours while the police delegated with him.
And a lady who was convicted of a hate crime for chasing two spanish kids with a katana.
I guess that's what you do with them.


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

I dislike Michael Moore.

Someone pointed to how much should be open to the public. Now here's an interesting topic. Where's the line on firearms? If we allow pistols, what about assault rifles and such?


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

Even without guns, people would still kill people. Why is that so hard to understand? Why do we have to label a piece of metal as if it's the antichrist?
I own two swords, two shotguns, a set of nunchuks, a compound bow and yet I've never killed anyone in my life. My father collects shotguns and rifles, owns a revolver, he hasn't either. Sort of goes against this particular theory. Why does one crazed villian have to ruin the world for the rest of us?


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

Politicians make the descisions that guide the actions of the military and other enforcement agencies!
Or are we unware of the KGB and the Waffen SS of Russia and Nazi Germany respectively? Two orginizations that weren't politicians but were definantly affected by them.

That, and I don't need a gun pointed to someone's head to do them harm. I could easily just do it with a pencil or my bare hands. It's too idealistic to believe otherwise.


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

Governmentsa are made of people though, when you get someone or someones on their high horse it doesn't matter who they are. They'll become corrupted.
It only takes one person to decide no one but the enforcers and government need weapons, and then, after it's implementation. It isn't a long jump of logic that you have superiority. You can do whatever you desire.

What do civilians need them for? To protect themselves from those who are supposed to be protecting them.


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

If civilians don't need guns, then I'd say governments don't need them either.
Or we can repeat some major moments in history where weapons have been taken from the people by governments in order to better subjugate them.


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

I need to get into practice with my compound, my Uncle wants to take me hunting but I can't hit much yet. It's either been too cold or I've been too busy to practice.
The worst is I'm left eye dominant, so I have to hold it in my left hand, I'm right handed.
I wouldn't mind trying to hunt with an atlatl and a spear, not to keep myself alive but as sport. That would be an experience.

But moving on.


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

True Warrior wrote:

This is exactly what has happened in America today....................our country is now unstabble, unbalanced, and nobody trusts anyone else, and the single invention of GUNS created this..........

Regardless of the fact that there are entire hunting clubs and communities? Conventions and gun shows?

Guns don't create situations like this any more than swords used to. The only difference is that no one carries them around openly anymore. You don't see a man walking down the street with a sword strapped to his back next to the guy with a spear.

If the caveman in the other cave has a spear, you'll probably get one.
If the lady next door has the first electric vacuum you'll probably get one too.
It's called a rat race and it can definantly upset communities. But it can be anything, the fashion industry works this way.
But I'm sorry to say I don't believe guns are the problem. Because of a lack of evidence to suggest it.

For example. Fewer people are killed in random school shootings when the students or staff are allowed to carry guns on campus.


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

That's a good point.
I think it boils down to gun powder, that's what a gun's original intent was. And so from firecrackers to firepower.
But as a projectile weapon, it's the bow. An amount of force moving a projectile toward and into a target. Which is a hunting tool, turned into a revolutionary weapon.

Sort of a wide simile, but, not a bad analysis I hope.


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

The gun is not the worst invention, not the reason we have crime and violence I don't believe.

It' an evolution of a system that had been going on for hundreds of thousands of years. The concept of dominion. Wars, weapons, and violence are integral in every facet of human life.
I say had because the current attitude of conflict has changed considerably, economics has paved the way to startling peace in comparison to the past. Albiet it's created whole new problems, and will especially when the non-renewable energy sources are below the point of desired-quantity, and then afterwards when a viable renewable energy source is found.

Even if we took all the bombs away, all the guns, and knives and whatever away. Someone would create them again, and do it because they could.

The plus to guns is that they help nature, at least in the United States. Responsible (that's a pretty big stretch these days) hunters contribute money to protecting wildlife everytime they purchase equipment and licenses. Hunting keeps animal populations down and feeds people. But they're always that one deviant who decides to screw it up for the rest of us.
I agree, they're a tool. And like anything can be sharpened and bent and molded to suit the needs as a weapon.

I just don't believe it's natural for people to get along. The idea of a close knit group of individuals in nature doesn't exist. Ants aren't individuals for example. All animals compete with one another and strive to one up the other.
It's amazing we can even think about animal rights, or humanitarianism.
Animal rights...that's a subject I might touch later.


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

Versatile after a long time. Just practicing with my wood ones I get sore, it's not a very easy trick to master.


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

Fett_II wrote:

blame the mafia and mobs for getting nunchaku banned. they used them all the time in their fights during the roaring 20s and 30s.

Somehow, I'm skeptical. But curious.


(86 replies, posted in Fans)

Criminals don't care, otherwise they wouldn't be criminals.

And what's the worst they can recieve?
In the US it's state law presiding over most cases so it really depends on where you are but quite a few states refuse to give the death penalty. Our jails are filling up and there's still no slow down of crime.

I don't understand how people can believe that people will follow the rules if there's no consequence.
If I brandish my weapon, they'll probably have one is a good reason not to even do it in the first place,

It's said that murder is wrong. It is. But execution is different than murder, as it is a reaction to wrongdoing.
Religious people might want to be wary of the spoiler coming up:
-The higher up/s have no problem in rightful execution-

So, instead of taking nunchucks away from people...we could start emptying out prisons....

Y'know, I'm changing the title of this topic. Since it's evolved from its humble opener.
"Political attitude overall" sounds better.

A way to cover the important issues in need of discussion.
Energy, war, ideas.

Things going on right now.