marcoasalazarm
Explorer
Bump!
CORELINE (D20 Modern/D20 BESM Setting).
marcoasalazarm
Explorer
Just something to draw the eye, and nothing else-well, for now.
A CORELINE SHORT STORY: WE BE LEGEND
((((((((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))
(((((((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))))
On the clouded days, the really bad ones where the clouds were closer to the ground and there wasn’t even a glimpse of the sun, David was at his most skittish. Those clouds brought bad memories to the fore, memories that no high-schooler should have to deal with.
But he had. Every day and night. They came constantly, a barrage that never seemed to end, never seemed to have control. They came, a relentless deluge against his psyche.
So he lost himself in anything he could find. He lost himself on his schoolwork, on his love life, on the half-time job he grudgingly went to in order to keep his apartment and his education.
In this land, however, things coming back to haunt you were many, and came often. And came every time your guard was down, made your mind wander, made you see so many things that could only be seen in the marvelous 20-20 eyesight of retrospective that you went mad-or got so close that it seemed like a nice alternative.
As a ‘for instance’, today: first it had been the clouds. Then it had been the rather… *steep* climb in the obnoxiousness of his fellow classmates.
But the final nail, the fact that creeped him out more than others, was the book that the English teacher asked his students to read.
David stood up at the teacher’s orders, looked into the book and read aloud, in a voice that would have come from an Ultravoice:
“Friends, I come before you to discuss the vampire; a minority element if there ever was one and there was one.
But to concision: I will sketch out the basis for my thesis, which thesis is this: Vampires are prejudiced against.”
Richard Matheson’s ‘I Am Legend’. A damn good short story that, once, he had read for the sake of entertainment.
“The keynote of minority prejudice is this: they are loathed because they are feared. Thus…”
Now, as he read the story, it took every once of his being to not look back towards the rear of the room, looking for Bailey and some reassuring that, hell no, they weren’t still locked inside a basement, listening to the super-powered *things* out there trying to get in.
“At one time, the Dark and Middle Ages, to be succinct, the vampire’s power was great, the fear of him tremendous. He was anathema and still remains anathema. Society hates him without ration.”
His mind briefly lapsed back to some snippet of the Simpsons, where it was shown that the books the kids from Springfield Elementary read were Playboy articles and TekWar. He wondered what the hell triggered this, wondered why this professor had to make him read this *today*.
“But are his needs any more shocking than the needs of other animals and men? Are his deeds more outrageous than the deeds of the parent who drained the spirit from his child? The vampire may foster quickened heartbeats and levitated hair. But is he worse than the parent who gave to society a neurotic child who became a politician…?”
He kept his Ultravoice-like reading until he was asked to stop.
“That is good, David. You may sit.”, the teacher said, making a waving motion with his hand. “But next time, try to put more *inflexion* on your reading, if you please.”
Any other day, David wouldn’t have given enough mind to the matter, merely nodding and saying ‘okay’. But today, as he sat, his sight locked on to the teacher’s face and took in every detail, details of a face that could only be there because of the magic of television. Some version of Robert Hogan, looking every way as when he was first portrayed by Bob Crane some-what, 40 years ago?
He felt like grabbing the book and tossing it on the teacher’s face, damning the man to Hell and any other dark dimensions for having the idea, having the *nerve* of making him read such literature on such a day, ‘damn you, Teach, screw you and whoever created you!’.
But he didn’t, since he would gain nothing from it. He just took a deep breath…
…and almost started hollering anyway when the teacher asked Bailey to read.
“Outside, they howled and pummeled the door, shouting his name in a paroxysm of demented fury. They grabbed up bricks and rocks and hurtled them against the house as they screamed and cursed at him. He lay there listening to the thud of the rocks and bricks against the house, listening to their howling.”
He wondered for the briefest of seconds if Robert Neville was out there, on Los Angeles or elsewhere, still locked up inside his house, in fear of what was outside. He wondered, as well, if Robert Neville had become one more Fiction afflicted with Authored Rage.
He had seen it, the Rage. It was the sole worse nightmare that any Pre-Vanishing Human could think of, a Fiction (or two, or five, or –Heaven help those who made them- an even cast of thousands) thinking of nothing but his/her destruction, willing to do anything to achieve this-from lynching him on the very spot up to destroying the entire city block the author stood on, bystanders be damned.
He had experimented with writing a fan fiction soon after the Hours were done, a little drabble about Sakura Kinomoto. A girl who couldn’t hurt a fly. It had been a simple experiment-after all, the Virus had come and gone, right? Everybody was back, the Fictions were (in some fashion) calming down?
She appeared, tried to kill him by beatdown, using strength-enhancing magic and that staff of hers-and he didn’t think that now, nor any time soon, he would be able to empty a gun as fast as he did then.
As Bailey read on into the part where Robert Neville discovered the vampirism being a virus of some sort (and he chuckled in his mind at *that* detail), David looked around the class.
On the front rows there were the Midwich Cuckoos: those girls with the blonde hair and the silver eyes that he really didn’t gave a damn about remembering their names and they all looked so alike that he would mix them up anycase. Following them were the Evangelion kids-Alternates of every single one of the kids. Hikari was, admittedly, an *extremely* scary Class Representative, worse than any leather-lung Drill Sergeant he could think of (and he could think of some pretty extreme examples).
Lia and Naota sat nearby. The two of them were Nekojin, ‘Cat People’-and both of them were Anything Goes practicioners, trained by Akane and Ranma Saotome. He was only glad that he wasn’t an enemy…
Max sat by the window. A slightly younger version of the ‘Dark Angel’ character, she had all the hotness of Jessica Alba (since technically, hell, she *was* Jessica Alba), with a million times more deadliness.
The entire class was full of Fictions: ninjas, mutants, monsters, freaks. Even the so-called ‘normal’ students had big eyes and small mouths. He and Bailey were the only two ‘Reals’.
“World’s gone to hell. No germs, no science. World’s fallen to the supernatural, it’s a supernatural world. Harper’s Bizarre and Saturday Evening Ghost and Ghoul Housekeeping. ‘Young Dr. Jekyll’ and ‘Dracula’s Other Wife’ and ‘Death Can Be Beautiful’. ‘Don’t be half-staked’ and Smith Brothers’ Coffin Drops…”
David knew that, somewhere deep inside Worcester, there might be someone laughing his ass off. The whole world as he knew it turned upside-down, extinct, not with the massive ‘kaboom’ of the world’s nuclear complements or the cough of a disease, but by a bunch of phreaks and an assortment of lines of code.
And as the story went on, as Bailey read about how Robert Neville found an uninfected dog and theorized about why a cross affected the vampires, as the story went on into the fact that Robert Neville was now the ‘minority’, the vampires’ bogeyman, David’s brain caught onto something.
“And suddenly he thought, I’m the abnormal one now. Normalcy was a majority concept-the standard of many, and not the standard of just one man.”
He and Bailey, and Heaven-knew-how-many-people…. They were now the minority. They were the ‘legend’. The people that once created works of fiction without fear of reprisal other than strongly-worded criticisms. The people who saw them as mere harmless entertainment, with no subconscious fear that they could be (in some twisted way) truly happening, if not right next door, then in another dimension.
The people who were before the Vanishing, who didn’t disappeared. The people who now had to deal with the traumas of 23 hours of immeasurable madness. The ones who walked down the street and saw the passerby and thought, I remember that particular jackass from back in my childhood on the Saturday Morning cartoons, and I remember that girl, I thought that her series was a little too excessive with the fanservice…
And the many of them, the oh-so-many of them (of *us*, David corrected himself) that took up a gun and blazed away into said crowd because, hey, they’re only *cartoons*, right?
“Full circle, he thought while the final lethargy crept into his limbs. Full circle. A new terror born in death, a new superstition entering the unassailable fortress of forever…”
‘We be legend’, David thought.
A CORELINE SHORT STORY: WE BE LEGEND
((((((((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))
(((((((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))))
On the clouded days, the really bad ones where the clouds were closer to the ground and there wasn’t even a glimpse of the sun, David was at his most skittish. Those clouds brought bad memories to the fore, memories that no high-schooler should have to deal with.
But he had. Every day and night. They came constantly, a barrage that never seemed to end, never seemed to have control. They came, a relentless deluge against his psyche.
So he lost himself in anything he could find. He lost himself on his schoolwork, on his love life, on the half-time job he grudgingly went to in order to keep his apartment and his education.
In this land, however, things coming back to haunt you were many, and came often. And came every time your guard was down, made your mind wander, made you see so many things that could only be seen in the marvelous 20-20 eyesight of retrospective that you went mad-or got so close that it seemed like a nice alternative.
As a ‘for instance’, today: first it had been the clouds. Then it had been the rather… *steep* climb in the obnoxiousness of his fellow classmates.
But the final nail, the fact that creeped him out more than others, was the book that the English teacher asked his students to read.
David stood up at the teacher’s orders, looked into the book and read aloud, in a voice that would have come from an Ultravoice:
“Friends, I come before you to discuss the vampire; a minority element if there ever was one and there was one.
But to concision: I will sketch out the basis for my thesis, which thesis is this: Vampires are prejudiced against.”
Richard Matheson’s ‘I Am Legend’. A damn good short story that, once, he had read for the sake of entertainment.
“The keynote of minority prejudice is this: they are loathed because they are feared. Thus…”
Now, as he read the story, it took every once of his being to not look back towards the rear of the room, looking for Bailey and some reassuring that, hell no, they weren’t still locked inside a basement, listening to the super-powered *things* out there trying to get in.
“At one time, the Dark and Middle Ages, to be succinct, the vampire’s power was great, the fear of him tremendous. He was anathema and still remains anathema. Society hates him without ration.”
His mind briefly lapsed back to some snippet of the Simpsons, where it was shown that the books the kids from Springfield Elementary read were Playboy articles and TekWar. He wondered what the hell triggered this, wondered why this professor had to make him read this *today*.
“But are his needs any more shocking than the needs of other animals and men? Are his deeds more outrageous than the deeds of the parent who drained the spirit from his child? The vampire may foster quickened heartbeats and levitated hair. But is he worse than the parent who gave to society a neurotic child who became a politician…?”
He kept his Ultravoice-like reading until he was asked to stop.
“That is good, David. You may sit.”, the teacher said, making a waving motion with his hand. “But next time, try to put more *inflexion* on your reading, if you please.”
Any other day, David wouldn’t have given enough mind to the matter, merely nodding and saying ‘okay’. But today, as he sat, his sight locked on to the teacher’s face and took in every detail, details of a face that could only be there because of the magic of television. Some version of Robert Hogan, looking every way as when he was first portrayed by Bob Crane some-what, 40 years ago?
He felt like grabbing the book and tossing it on the teacher’s face, damning the man to Hell and any other dark dimensions for having the idea, having the *nerve* of making him read such literature on such a day, ‘damn you, Teach, screw you and whoever created you!’.
But he didn’t, since he would gain nothing from it. He just took a deep breath…
…and almost started hollering anyway when the teacher asked Bailey to read.
“Outside, they howled and pummeled the door, shouting his name in a paroxysm of demented fury. They grabbed up bricks and rocks and hurtled them against the house as they screamed and cursed at him. He lay there listening to the thud of the rocks and bricks against the house, listening to their howling.”
He wondered for the briefest of seconds if Robert Neville was out there, on Los Angeles or elsewhere, still locked up inside his house, in fear of what was outside. He wondered, as well, if Robert Neville had become one more Fiction afflicted with Authored Rage.
He had seen it, the Rage. It was the sole worse nightmare that any Pre-Vanishing Human could think of, a Fiction (or two, or five, or –Heaven help those who made them- an even cast of thousands) thinking of nothing but his/her destruction, willing to do anything to achieve this-from lynching him on the very spot up to destroying the entire city block the author stood on, bystanders be damned.
He had experimented with writing a fan fiction soon after the Hours were done, a little drabble about Sakura Kinomoto. A girl who couldn’t hurt a fly. It had been a simple experiment-after all, the Virus had come and gone, right? Everybody was back, the Fictions were (in some fashion) calming down?
She appeared, tried to kill him by beatdown, using strength-enhancing magic and that staff of hers-and he didn’t think that now, nor any time soon, he would be able to empty a gun as fast as he did then.
As Bailey read on into the part where Robert Neville discovered the vampirism being a virus of some sort (and he chuckled in his mind at *that* detail), David looked around the class.
On the front rows there were the Midwich Cuckoos: those girls with the blonde hair and the silver eyes that he really didn’t gave a damn about remembering their names and they all looked so alike that he would mix them up anycase. Following them were the Evangelion kids-Alternates of every single one of the kids. Hikari was, admittedly, an *extremely* scary Class Representative, worse than any leather-lung Drill Sergeant he could think of (and he could think of some pretty extreme examples).
Lia and Naota sat nearby. The two of them were Nekojin, ‘Cat People’-and both of them were Anything Goes practicioners, trained by Akane and Ranma Saotome. He was only glad that he wasn’t an enemy…
Max sat by the window. A slightly younger version of the ‘Dark Angel’ character, she had all the hotness of Jessica Alba (since technically, hell, she *was* Jessica Alba), with a million times more deadliness.
The entire class was full of Fictions: ninjas, mutants, monsters, freaks. Even the so-called ‘normal’ students had big eyes and small mouths. He and Bailey were the only two ‘Reals’.
“World’s gone to hell. No germs, no science. World’s fallen to the supernatural, it’s a supernatural world. Harper’s Bizarre and Saturday Evening Ghost and Ghoul Housekeeping. ‘Young Dr. Jekyll’ and ‘Dracula’s Other Wife’ and ‘Death Can Be Beautiful’. ‘Don’t be half-staked’ and Smith Brothers’ Coffin Drops…”
David knew that, somewhere deep inside Worcester, there might be someone laughing his ass off. The whole world as he knew it turned upside-down, extinct, not with the massive ‘kaboom’ of the world’s nuclear complements or the cough of a disease, but by a bunch of phreaks and an assortment of lines of code.
And as the story went on, as Bailey read about how Robert Neville found an uninfected dog and theorized about why a cross affected the vampires, as the story went on into the fact that Robert Neville was now the ‘minority’, the vampires’ bogeyman, David’s brain caught onto something.
“And suddenly he thought, I’m the abnormal one now. Normalcy was a majority concept-the standard of many, and not the standard of just one man.”
He and Bailey, and Heaven-knew-how-many-people…. They were now the minority. They were the ‘legend’. The people that once created works of fiction without fear of reprisal other than strongly-worded criticisms. The people who saw them as mere harmless entertainment, with no subconscious fear that they could be (in some twisted way) truly happening, if not right next door, then in another dimension.
The people who were before the Vanishing, who didn’t disappeared. The people who now had to deal with the traumas of 23 hours of immeasurable madness. The ones who walked down the street and saw the passerby and thought, I remember that particular jackass from back in my childhood on the Saturday Morning cartoons, and I remember that girl, I thought that her series was a little too excessive with the fanservice…
And the many of them, the oh-so-many of them (of *us*, David corrected himself) that took up a gun and blazed away into said crowd because, hey, they’re only *cartoons*, right?
“Full circle, he thought while the final lethargy crept into his limbs. Full circle. A new terror born in death, a new superstition entering the unassailable fortress of forever…”
‘We be legend’, David thought.
Aquarius Alodar
First Post
I have a sketch for an offworld (non-Lagrange) human colony:
Venusians, basically. However, a native group - rather kind of them, I think, given the situation (on Terra, mind you, not just locally) - runs admin duties.
Venusians, basically. However, a native group - rather kind of them, I think, given the situation (on Terra, mind you, not just locally) - runs admin duties.
marcoasalazarm
Explorer
Sounds like a pretty cool idea (and while we're at it... well, the rest of the Sol System has been left pretty much alone so far. I was thinking of just few things so far-like the planets having tiny feuds for the Silver Millennium (and of course, (most of) the planets having terraformed through techno-magic), and Mars having the 'Chang' Colony (dunno where, maybe Maris Vallineris? ), that is the city you see most frequently in Mars-based episodes on 'Cowboy Bebop'. Over there, aside from other things, there's a way between the Chinese Triads (represented by the Red Dragons) and the Russian Mafia (represented by a hi-tech version of Hotel Moscow).
Aquarius Alodar
First Post
Around the 1755 mark....well, would it be safe to assume that anyone with a telescope, pointing it in this direction, sees this, several AU northward? (Later investigation would reveal the spacetime 'barrier' that appears to be blocking the disruption to orbital mechanics otherwise caused by the addition of a second Earth-sized body, with suns and moon, is being generated and mantained through some kind of forced configuration of the local quantum vacuum.)
marcoasalazarm
Explorer
Sounds like a good idea, actually. Problem might be, not a lot of people might even still be around to see that (and of course, Gallifrey popping up and then disappearing would make whoever is seeing to go all 'I'm going nuts' ).
marcoasalazarm
Explorer
INFORMATION PACKET: SMALLVILLE, KANSAS.
"We're in Kansas, sure. But if Earth is a hellhole and North America's one of its gates, then this is as close to the ninth circle as you're gonna get. Seems everything with a level of intelligence above an animal's got a secret agenda, a plan and a ton of paranoia. Those guys out there, they will take your head off and fill it with bullcrap-and some will do it rather literally.
Do not let the fact it's a small town lull you into safety. This damn town's the mecca of the weird, only upstaged by Topeka-and that's 'cause of the size. Must be the fact about our most upstanding citizen, or the meteor rocks, or maybe all of the corn-who the hell knows how these people think?
This is Smallville. Remember that fact-respect it every second of every day. It is your job to keep this town in line and it is *my job* to keep you folks alive.
I will not succeed-not with all of you. Casualties will happen, and some of you might quit. Some of you WILL quit, and go out and look for something safer.
Now's as good a time as any to do so. I'll give you a minute to decide.
(Brief silence).
Okay? Everybody's still here? So, for the next hour or so we'll go over the field rules. The Smallville rules. And you might wanna remember them-they might keep you alive."
-Opening of briefing provided to newcomer deputies by the Sheriff of Smallville, recording date unknown.
Smallville, Kansas is a farmer town in the vicinity of Wichita, with a population of 55,000 (as of census figures made on 8 P.V.). It was best known for two things: Its large production of corn and other produce-and its place in the backstory of nearly every Alternate of Superman who has appeared so far.
For reasons unknown, CLULESS has remained functional in a minor capacity on this town, keeping it and its surrounding countryside extremely mutable-buildings, people and artifacts of alien origin appear and disappear at random times, some of these of great interest to the major Fiction races on Coreline.
Currently, Smallville has the second-biggest Luthorcorp R&D facility in North America (outside of the corporation's main offices in Metropolis), and also holds the second-biggest per capita population of Kryptonians in North America (at 3% of population, first one being Metropolis, with a good 15%).
It is also the 2nd-biggest 'wretched hive' in Kansas (2nd to Topeka, a.k.a. 'New Scrap Iron City' ), with a per-capita number of 'supervillains' (both formally established and wanna-be) averaging 25% (of course, these being unofficial figures). Be them rampaging maniacs or Machiavellian bastards, covert or overt, they all come to Smallville, believing that making a name here will do wonders for their underworld reps. Also, 'heroes' come, believing the same-and the remaining people are (more often than not) caught in the crossfire, more than one person then going on to enter a Faction, get their hands on some experimental gizmo (which many corps are al too happy to provide), or use one of the many legal (and illegal) ways to enhance a person to 'make them all pay'.
It is into this where the many agencies, corporations and conspiracies of the world come in. All of them (even those like SHIELD and Luthorcorp) see the Norman Rockwell-esque town as a 'suicide run' assignment, meaning that those assigned to this town are expected to die in the many covert (and quite overt) crossfires, experiments gone wrong (or horribly right), hostile extra-human incursions and supervillain (or superhero) 'first trials' that happen often in town. The Sheriff's Department has the biggest casualty and officer burnout rate in the entire Tornado Alley area.
And those that remain (civilian and otherwise) are hardy (for the lack of a better term), seeing the latest scheme of Magnificent Bastardry, superhuman wangst-fest, clash of titans and other unusual occurrences the same way one would see corn grow.
---------------------------------
LOCATIONS OF NOTICE:
---------------------------------
+SMALLVILLE SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT OFFICE: This one-floor brick building located on Main Street is a lot more than meets the eye, with a multi-story underground section that is made of several-feet-thick reinforced walls and forcefields and includes an extensive armory, evidence room and prisoner holding area (which can be adapted to hold multiple types of SPB crooks), as well as forensics, a computerized command center, garage (with modified SUVs, high-velocity patrol interceptors, helicopters and power armors) and liaison consoles to other agencies.
+SMALLVILLE HIGH: The high school holds the offices of the Kansas State division of the Coreline Education Authority (which decided to establish them here instead of Wichita, under the consensus that 'swift action' would be required amongst Smallville juveniles more than anywhere else in the state).
+ THE RAVEN: A café on Main Street, it has quickly become one of the social centers of town, with things like small-band concerts and typical teen-demography activities being offered there. It is the epicenter of an average 3 rampages a week.
+GOUGH/MILLAR CAVES: A series of caves located on the outskirts of town, the Gough/Millar Caves are a site of Native American (and recently xeno-) archaeology. Constantly being altered by CLULESS, the site's many wall paintings and scattered artifacts depict events –past and future- as well as other things (like spells, tech designs and miscellaneous information) that is presented in a code that is based on Native American and other extraterrestrial (often Kryptonian) beliefs.
Experienced researchers are constantly trying to decipher the info and take it all with a grain of salt, while other Factions want the caves restricted or destroyed outright-and others take the sketchy information as gospel truth, to the annoyance and pain of a lot of other people.
+WELLING ROAD: One of the many roads leaving town, characterized by being a perfect location for street racing, and having the compounds of the major corporations in Smallville (Luthorcorp, Wayne Industries, Stark Industries, Stingray Industries, Diggers Technologies, Genom Corporation and Weyland-Yutani Corporation) along both sides of the road. Also called 'Corp Road' or 'Mad Scientist Road' because of the many 'industrial accidents' that happen on it.
---------------------------
PEOPLE OF NOTICE:
---------------------------
"Yeah, sure, I have a plan. I ALWAYS have a plan. It's just not a plan that involves what YOU think are 'acceptable losses', and once we're done salvaging the mess you have made, I'll personally make sure your life becomes hell.
…sure. But that would be another Lex Luthor. Me, I have a reputation to maintain. A GOOD reputation to maintain."
+LEX LUTHOR: One of the many versions of the man (this one being a teenager), who runs the local Luthorcorp offices. This version of Lex has declared himself to be 'reformed' (and has the multiple sworn statements from members of the Justice League and the Avengers to prove it ), but is nevertheless watched by everybody, just waiting for all Hell to break loose.
---
"You know why I'm not in Hell? Because the Devil's afraid I might take over! Would have tried, too, had I gotten the chance-the bastard's already wearing my *face*!"
+LIONEL LUTHOR: Long since dead, the King of All Bastards still roams the streets of Smallville, helping and harming people with elaborate schemes for no apparent reason. This version of Luthor has been classified as a high-powered 'chaos spirit' by most pertinent forces, who advise to stay away from him-but the man has nothing if not charisma.
---
"Okay, sir, license and registration.
Okay, missed it? Have it in the other pants, you say? Funny thing, there was a report an hour ago or so about a stolen car-same plates, same model, same mods for oversized drivers.
Get out of that car and show me your hands!
Oh, okay, the driver was a Na'vi, you say? That you're what, AOH?
And here I was gonna arrest you for grand theft auto, but now… now you're gonna tell me who your friends are.
No, pal, just NO. YOU broke the law, on MY town, on MY watch. And now I'm gonna KICK YOUR REAR, and once I'm done with you, your friends are NEXT!"
+MILES QUARITCH: Former Colonel of the United States Marines and currently-elected Sheriff of Smallville, nicknamed 'Colonel Bad@$$', 'Bastard Quaritch' and 'The Butcher of Pandora' among others (the latter because of his documented involvement in the First Pandoran Incident).
It is unknown exactly which version of Quaritch this is (because although he does not denies his involvement in the First Incident, he has not told if he's a clone, a reincarnation of he was just too tough to die), and sees the First Incident as something to atone for-somehow.
Sheriff Quaritch has become a pretty implacable (but fair) lawman, an 'equal-opportunity butt-kicker' in his own words-and it is this, a Pariah Gene, and an addiction for coffee that rivals Andrew Waltfield's that has differentiated him from most other Alternates of Colonel Miles Quaritch running around.
---
"Sure, Sheriff. Whatever you say, Sheriff. I'll go get those new Java beans you requested at the grocery, Sheriff. You want something else? The 'New York Times', the 'Daily Planet', the 'Bugle'…?"
+DOOLEY THEOPHILUS RATT: A 'western animation' cartoon Fiction (namely, an anthropomorphic rat about four-feet-nine with a faint Boston accent), he is Quaritch's secretary/aide-de-camp. Dooley seems to follow the typical rules of the 'Hyper-competent Sidekick', with Quaritch being the typical 'bad boss' that shouts at and bullies Dooley even as the rat pulls insane stunts left and right and is crazy prepared to keep up with Quaritch's demands.
In trust, it is stipulated in Dooley's contract (as requested by Ratt himself) that Quaritch *must* treat him in the 'bad boss' fashion (if asked why, Dooley just says that 'it's the Rule of Funny'-which many Toon Fictions seem to follow like an unwritten gospel, and others just find hard to understand). If anything else, Dooley becomes *even more* frightfully competent once the situation is dead serious.
---
"You WERE NOT going to run outta here and try that super-speed you discovered at, say, 7:30 this morning while you were trying to catch the school bus?
You wanna do that, then we go to my office and we'll file a request for you to leave early, maybe file it under 'medical reasons' or something-and while we're at it, maybe talk out a schedule for you to practice that thing and book an appointment at the local medic and STAR Labs to see the specifics. I just will not tolerate you cutting class, period.
What, me knowing you got powers? Let's just say that it is my job to know…"
+CHLOE SULLIVAN: Chairwoman of the local CEA office and former reporter for the Daily Planet, Sullivan has developed an extensive intelligence net all around Smallville-even if she likes to go out on the field a mite too much. The rumors surrounding this version of Chloe are extensive-especially because of the fact that she's a widow, is rich and is prepared for most situations that her job as a Coreline Education Authority officer presents.
---
"Look… no bowing, no chanting, no calling me a 'lord' or something-and please, get OFF the grass.
I'm just Kent, Clark Kent. I'm gonna stand you calling me 'Kal-El' and I'll stand you being here and looking around in disdain and saying whatever is the latest slur you guys have about me aiming low in life and disgracing the House of El-but the moment you go over the line, so help me, I'll MAKE you leave."
+CLARK KENT: An Alternate version of him that is more than a little grateful about being 'just another Clark Kent', he runs the Kent farm in the outside of town (as well as being the local Planet correspondent). He has to deal with having several Alternates running around (and the occasional visit from their families), as well as the typical craziness of the town-but is content to be where he is, or at least he says so to anybody who talks to him.
"We're in Kansas, sure. But if Earth is a hellhole and North America's one of its gates, then this is as close to the ninth circle as you're gonna get. Seems everything with a level of intelligence above an animal's got a secret agenda, a plan and a ton of paranoia. Those guys out there, they will take your head off and fill it with bullcrap-and some will do it rather literally.
Do not let the fact it's a small town lull you into safety. This damn town's the mecca of the weird, only upstaged by Topeka-and that's 'cause of the size. Must be the fact about our most upstanding citizen, or the meteor rocks, or maybe all of the corn-who the hell knows how these people think?
This is Smallville. Remember that fact-respect it every second of every day. It is your job to keep this town in line and it is *my job* to keep you folks alive.
I will not succeed-not with all of you. Casualties will happen, and some of you might quit. Some of you WILL quit, and go out and look for something safer.
Now's as good a time as any to do so. I'll give you a minute to decide.
(Brief silence).
Okay? Everybody's still here? So, for the next hour or so we'll go over the field rules. The Smallville rules. And you might wanna remember them-they might keep you alive."
-Opening of briefing provided to newcomer deputies by the Sheriff of Smallville, recording date unknown.
Smallville, Kansas is a farmer town in the vicinity of Wichita, with a population of 55,000 (as of census figures made on 8 P.V.). It was best known for two things: Its large production of corn and other produce-and its place in the backstory of nearly every Alternate of Superman who has appeared so far.
For reasons unknown, CLULESS has remained functional in a minor capacity on this town, keeping it and its surrounding countryside extremely mutable-buildings, people and artifacts of alien origin appear and disappear at random times, some of these of great interest to the major Fiction races on Coreline.
Currently, Smallville has the second-biggest Luthorcorp R&D facility in North America (outside of the corporation's main offices in Metropolis), and also holds the second-biggest per capita population of Kryptonians in North America (at 3% of population, first one being Metropolis, with a good 15%).
It is also the 2nd-biggest 'wretched hive' in Kansas (2nd to Topeka, a.k.a. 'New Scrap Iron City' ), with a per-capita number of 'supervillains' (both formally established and wanna-be) averaging 25% (of course, these being unofficial figures). Be them rampaging maniacs or Machiavellian bastards, covert or overt, they all come to Smallville, believing that making a name here will do wonders for their underworld reps. Also, 'heroes' come, believing the same-and the remaining people are (more often than not) caught in the crossfire, more than one person then going on to enter a Faction, get their hands on some experimental gizmo (which many corps are al too happy to provide), or use one of the many legal (and illegal) ways to enhance a person to 'make them all pay'.
It is into this where the many agencies, corporations and conspiracies of the world come in. All of them (even those like SHIELD and Luthorcorp) see the Norman Rockwell-esque town as a 'suicide run' assignment, meaning that those assigned to this town are expected to die in the many covert (and quite overt) crossfires, experiments gone wrong (or horribly right), hostile extra-human incursions and supervillain (or superhero) 'first trials' that happen often in town. The Sheriff's Department has the biggest casualty and officer burnout rate in the entire Tornado Alley area.
And those that remain (civilian and otherwise) are hardy (for the lack of a better term), seeing the latest scheme of Magnificent Bastardry, superhuman wangst-fest, clash of titans and other unusual occurrences the same way one would see corn grow.
---------------------------------
LOCATIONS OF NOTICE:
---------------------------------
+SMALLVILLE SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT OFFICE: This one-floor brick building located on Main Street is a lot more than meets the eye, with a multi-story underground section that is made of several-feet-thick reinforced walls and forcefields and includes an extensive armory, evidence room and prisoner holding area (which can be adapted to hold multiple types of SPB crooks), as well as forensics, a computerized command center, garage (with modified SUVs, high-velocity patrol interceptors, helicopters and power armors) and liaison consoles to other agencies.
+SMALLVILLE HIGH: The high school holds the offices of the Kansas State division of the Coreline Education Authority (which decided to establish them here instead of Wichita, under the consensus that 'swift action' would be required amongst Smallville juveniles more than anywhere else in the state).
+ THE RAVEN: A café on Main Street, it has quickly become one of the social centers of town, with things like small-band concerts and typical teen-demography activities being offered there. It is the epicenter of an average 3 rampages a week.
+GOUGH/MILLAR CAVES: A series of caves located on the outskirts of town, the Gough/Millar Caves are a site of Native American (and recently xeno-) archaeology. Constantly being altered by CLULESS, the site's many wall paintings and scattered artifacts depict events –past and future- as well as other things (like spells, tech designs and miscellaneous information) that is presented in a code that is based on Native American and other extraterrestrial (often Kryptonian) beliefs.
Experienced researchers are constantly trying to decipher the info and take it all with a grain of salt, while other Factions want the caves restricted or destroyed outright-and others take the sketchy information as gospel truth, to the annoyance and pain of a lot of other people.
+WELLING ROAD: One of the many roads leaving town, characterized by being a perfect location for street racing, and having the compounds of the major corporations in Smallville (Luthorcorp, Wayne Industries, Stark Industries, Stingray Industries, Diggers Technologies, Genom Corporation and Weyland-Yutani Corporation) along both sides of the road. Also called 'Corp Road' or 'Mad Scientist Road' because of the many 'industrial accidents' that happen on it.
---------------------------
PEOPLE OF NOTICE:
---------------------------
"Yeah, sure, I have a plan. I ALWAYS have a plan. It's just not a plan that involves what YOU think are 'acceptable losses', and once we're done salvaging the mess you have made, I'll personally make sure your life becomes hell.
…sure. But that would be another Lex Luthor. Me, I have a reputation to maintain. A GOOD reputation to maintain."
+LEX LUTHOR: One of the many versions of the man (this one being a teenager), who runs the local Luthorcorp offices. This version of Lex has declared himself to be 'reformed' (and has the multiple sworn statements from members of the Justice League and the Avengers to prove it ), but is nevertheless watched by everybody, just waiting for all Hell to break loose.
---
"You know why I'm not in Hell? Because the Devil's afraid I might take over! Would have tried, too, had I gotten the chance-the bastard's already wearing my *face*!"
+LIONEL LUTHOR: Long since dead, the King of All Bastards still roams the streets of Smallville, helping and harming people with elaborate schemes for no apparent reason. This version of Luthor has been classified as a high-powered 'chaos spirit' by most pertinent forces, who advise to stay away from him-but the man has nothing if not charisma.
---
"Okay, sir, license and registration.
Okay, missed it? Have it in the other pants, you say? Funny thing, there was a report an hour ago or so about a stolen car-same plates, same model, same mods for oversized drivers.
Get out of that car and show me your hands!
Oh, okay, the driver was a Na'vi, you say? That you're what, AOH?
And here I was gonna arrest you for grand theft auto, but now… now you're gonna tell me who your friends are.
No, pal, just NO. YOU broke the law, on MY town, on MY watch. And now I'm gonna KICK YOUR REAR, and once I'm done with you, your friends are NEXT!"
+MILES QUARITCH: Former Colonel of the United States Marines and currently-elected Sheriff of Smallville, nicknamed 'Colonel Bad@$$', 'Bastard Quaritch' and 'The Butcher of Pandora' among others (the latter because of his documented involvement in the First Pandoran Incident).
It is unknown exactly which version of Quaritch this is (because although he does not denies his involvement in the First Incident, he has not told if he's a clone, a reincarnation of he was just too tough to die), and sees the First Incident as something to atone for-somehow.
Sheriff Quaritch has become a pretty implacable (but fair) lawman, an 'equal-opportunity butt-kicker' in his own words-and it is this, a Pariah Gene, and an addiction for coffee that rivals Andrew Waltfield's that has differentiated him from most other Alternates of Colonel Miles Quaritch running around.
---
"Sure, Sheriff. Whatever you say, Sheriff. I'll go get those new Java beans you requested at the grocery, Sheriff. You want something else? The 'New York Times', the 'Daily Planet', the 'Bugle'…?"
+DOOLEY THEOPHILUS RATT: A 'western animation' cartoon Fiction (namely, an anthropomorphic rat about four-feet-nine with a faint Boston accent), he is Quaritch's secretary/aide-de-camp. Dooley seems to follow the typical rules of the 'Hyper-competent Sidekick', with Quaritch being the typical 'bad boss' that shouts at and bullies Dooley even as the rat pulls insane stunts left and right and is crazy prepared to keep up with Quaritch's demands.
In trust, it is stipulated in Dooley's contract (as requested by Ratt himself) that Quaritch *must* treat him in the 'bad boss' fashion (if asked why, Dooley just says that 'it's the Rule of Funny'-which many Toon Fictions seem to follow like an unwritten gospel, and others just find hard to understand). If anything else, Dooley becomes *even more* frightfully competent once the situation is dead serious.
---
"You WERE NOT going to run outta here and try that super-speed you discovered at, say, 7:30 this morning while you were trying to catch the school bus?
You wanna do that, then we go to my office and we'll file a request for you to leave early, maybe file it under 'medical reasons' or something-and while we're at it, maybe talk out a schedule for you to practice that thing and book an appointment at the local medic and STAR Labs to see the specifics. I just will not tolerate you cutting class, period.
What, me knowing you got powers? Let's just say that it is my job to know…"
+CHLOE SULLIVAN: Chairwoman of the local CEA office and former reporter for the Daily Planet, Sullivan has developed an extensive intelligence net all around Smallville-even if she likes to go out on the field a mite too much. The rumors surrounding this version of Chloe are extensive-especially because of the fact that she's a widow, is rich and is prepared for most situations that her job as a Coreline Education Authority officer presents.
---
"Look… no bowing, no chanting, no calling me a 'lord' or something-and please, get OFF the grass.
I'm just Kent, Clark Kent. I'm gonna stand you calling me 'Kal-El' and I'll stand you being here and looking around in disdain and saying whatever is the latest slur you guys have about me aiming low in life and disgracing the House of El-but the moment you go over the line, so help me, I'll MAKE you leave."
+CLARK KENT: An Alternate version of him that is more than a little grateful about being 'just another Clark Kent', he runs the Kent farm in the outside of town (as well as being the local Planet correspondent). He has to deal with having several Alternates running around (and the occasional visit from their families), as well as the typical craziness of the town-but is content to be where he is, or at least he says so to anybody who talks to him.
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Rappy
First Post
Hey, guess what? It's an actually decently sized post from me! I've been a busy little bee, but my d20 Modern fangirl side tugged at me enough that I had to return to this project, if only for a brief visit for now. Hopefully major entries from me will continue to grow more common after this, though.
The Monstrous Misfits: the Geneva Cabinet of Curiosities
Found in Geneva, Switzerland, the Genève Musée pour Inhabituel et Atypiques Faune (more often simply referred to as the Geneva Cabinet of Curiosities) is a large collection of strange floral, faunal, and mineral samples from all over the post-CLULESS world, ranging from minor portions to entire specimens.
Key Exhibits and Wings
The Kaiju Hall
More of a 400 x 400 ft. bunker than a "hall", the massive Shiragami Memorial Hall of Kaiju (more often simply called the Kaiju Hall) is a testament to some of Coreline's most awe-inspiring and terrifying fauna, as well as the entrance to the museum. The first thing you will notice is the titanic 230-foot skeleton of the original Zilla. While encrusted with barnacles and sediment and missing several key bones due to them being damaged beyond repair during the Brawl in the Bronx, the colossal corpse is still an awe-inspiring exhibit. Other specimens recovered from the wreckage of this historic battle include a massive claw-raked scale from Gojira and a stuffed specimen of one of the parasites that accompanied the infamous "Clover" into battle. There are also 1/100 scale interactive holograms of several infamous kaiju, the skull of a member of the Megaprimatus kong species, a stuffed infant Zilla, and shards of a Rodan egg.
Exhibition Hall of Mutants and Mutagens
"Exhibit funding graciously donated by the Xavier estate" reads one of the two plaques adorning the bronze columns at the entryway to the Exhibition Hall of Mutants and Mutagens (the other being "Minerals donated by the esteemed science centers of LexCorp"). This 150 x 400 ft. hallway's marble floors and crystalline force-field generators exude elegance and almost outshine the gold-trimmed alabaster stairs that lead upward into the two upstairs halls and the obsidian lintels leading to the next downstairs hall. A major portion of the exhibit is dedicated to holograms detailing the various origins of mutations and how mutants are often unfairly perceived by society. The main draw of the hall (for most visitors, at least) are the force-fields lining the west and east walls. These heavily reinforced security measures lock within themselves various mutagens such as RadGoo and red Kryptonite; unsurprisingly, this hall is one of the most controversial of all exhibits in the Geneva Cabinet of Curiosities.
Upper West Wing
Formally entitled the Hammond-Grant Hall of Palaeontological and Zoological Anomalies, the upper west wing is the 150 x 200 ft. west half of the upper floor, focused entirely on atypical examples of pre-Coreline flora and fauna. The largest draw of the exhibit is a 50-foot long stuffed Suchotyrannus imperator; this ferocious beast, resembling a gigantic alligator with a sail-like fin on its back and horns erupting from its head, is a typical example of the fauna of the various so-called "rubber suit Lost Worlds". Other exhibits in this hall vary from a fetal Katahdin preserved in formaldehyde and a stuffed Papuan giant bat (both arguably also fitting for the Exhibition Hall of Mutants and Mutagens) to lovingly nurtured (and safely locked behind bullet-proof glass) giant flytraps. The upper west wing also once housed several live flamebas (Titanobufo pyrus) from the underground realm of Pellucidar, but these specimens disappeared under mysterious circumstances.
Upper East Wing
The upper east wing, formally entitled the Hall of Hominid Development and Regression, covers humanoids, monstrous humanoids, and giants. Situated around the skeleton of a purported Elbaf giant are display cases containing skeletons of Papuan mutant humans, morlocks, a Gray-human hybrid, chiropterans in various states of metamorphosis, and the world's only confirmed diclonius skeleton on display, amongst others. The upper east wing has recently come under fire from the Institute for Humanoid Rights and Self-Improvement as "a sickening display of sideshow tactics, disgracing those that do not match up with Coreline ideals of humanity".
The Grand Oceanic Hall
The final portion of the lower reaches of the museum, the Grand Oceanic Hall is a 400 x 400 ft. room that is filled from ceiling to floor with copious amounts of saltwater, sand, kelp, and corals. From the obsidian-adorned viewing area, visitors can view several subadult specimens of the Benchley's dire squid* (Deinoteuthis benchleyii). These tropical giants, named after pre-CLULESS creator Peter Benchley, are a crowd favorite due to their imposing size, barb-coated tentacles, and high intelligence. As part of an agreement with various oceanographic institutes, the Geneva Cabinet of Curiosities is allowed to display the specimens until they reach adulthood as long as the staff routinely provides any information possible on this enigmatic species.
New Game Mechanic: RadGoo
RadGoo is a term referring to patches of the so-called "comic book sludge" that is notable for producing mutations. Entire ponds of this sickly green substance can be found in the jungles of Papua New Guinea, the Australian Outback, and various other parts of the post-CLULESS world that are known for their mutants. In addition to various mutants, areas infected with RadGoo often spawn giant animals and vermin, vicious plant life, and the undead.
Any character that spends 1 or more minutes at least knee deep in RadGoo without the proper protective gear (such as a HazMat suit) must succeed in a Fortitude save (DC 20) or start mutating. A character in the process of mutating suffers a -4 penalty to attacks and all skills and activities that rely on concentration as their body twists and contorts, as well as taking 1d4 points of bludgeoning damage each round as their own body rebels against itself. Any character that survives the ordeal automatically gains 2 random drawbacks and 1d3 random mutations (for more on drawbacks and mutations, see d20 Future).
The Monstrous Misfits: the Geneva Cabinet of Curiosities
Found in Geneva, Switzerland, the Genève Musée pour Inhabituel et Atypiques Faune (more often simply referred to as the Geneva Cabinet of Curiosities) is a large collection of strange floral, faunal, and mineral samples from all over the post-CLULESS world, ranging from minor portions to entire specimens.
Key Exhibits and Wings
The Kaiju Hall
More of a 400 x 400 ft. bunker than a "hall", the massive Shiragami Memorial Hall of Kaiju (more often simply called the Kaiju Hall) is a testament to some of Coreline's most awe-inspiring and terrifying fauna, as well as the entrance to the museum. The first thing you will notice is the titanic 230-foot skeleton of the original Zilla. While encrusted with barnacles and sediment and missing several key bones due to them being damaged beyond repair during the Brawl in the Bronx, the colossal corpse is still an awe-inspiring exhibit. Other specimens recovered from the wreckage of this historic battle include a massive claw-raked scale from Gojira and a stuffed specimen of one of the parasites that accompanied the infamous "Clover" into battle. There are also 1/100 scale interactive holograms of several infamous kaiju, the skull of a member of the Megaprimatus kong species, a stuffed infant Zilla, and shards of a Rodan egg.
Exhibition Hall of Mutants and Mutagens
"Exhibit funding graciously donated by the Xavier estate" reads one of the two plaques adorning the bronze columns at the entryway to the Exhibition Hall of Mutants and Mutagens (the other being "Minerals donated by the esteemed science centers of LexCorp"). This 150 x 400 ft. hallway's marble floors and crystalline force-field generators exude elegance and almost outshine the gold-trimmed alabaster stairs that lead upward into the two upstairs halls and the obsidian lintels leading to the next downstairs hall. A major portion of the exhibit is dedicated to holograms detailing the various origins of mutations and how mutants are often unfairly perceived by society. The main draw of the hall (for most visitors, at least) are the force-fields lining the west and east walls. These heavily reinforced security measures lock within themselves various mutagens such as RadGoo and red Kryptonite; unsurprisingly, this hall is one of the most controversial of all exhibits in the Geneva Cabinet of Curiosities.
Upper West Wing
Formally entitled the Hammond-Grant Hall of Palaeontological and Zoological Anomalies, the upper west wing is the 150 x 200 ft. west half of the upper floor, focused entirely on atypical examples of pre-Coreline flora and fauna. The largest draw of the exhibit is a 50-foot long stuffed Suchotyrannus imperator; this ferocious beast, resembling a gigantic alligator with a sail-like fin on its back and horns erupting from its head, is a typical example of the fauna of the various so-called "rubber suit Lost Worlds". Other exhibits in this hall vary from a fetal Katahdin preserved in formaldehyde and a stuffed Papuan giant bat (both arguably also fitting for the Exhibition Hall of Mutants and Mutagens) to lovingly nurtured (and safely locked behind bullet-proof glass) giant flytraps. The upper west wing also once housed several live flamebas (Titanobufo pyrus) from the underground realm of Pellucidar, but these specimens disappeared under mysterious circumstances.
Upper East Wing
The upper east wing, formally entitled the Hall of Hominid Development and Regression, covers humanoids, monstrous humanoids, and giants. Situated around the skeleton of a purported Elbaf giant are display cases containing skeletons of Papuan mutant humans, morlocks, a Gray-human hybrid, chiropterans in various states of metamorphosis, and the world's only confirmed diclonius skeleton on display, amongst others. The upper east wing has recently come under fire from the Institute for Humanoid Rights and Self-Improvement as "a sickening display of sideshow tactics, disgracing those that do not match up with Coreline ideals of humanity".
The Grand Oceanic Hall
The final portion of the lower reaches of the museum, the Grand Oceanic Hall is a 400 x 400 ft. room that is filled from ceiling to floor with copious amounts of saltwater, sand, kelp, and corals. From the obsidian-adorned viewing area, visitors can view several subadult specimens of the Benchley's dire squid* (Deinoteuthis benchleyii). These tropical giants, named after pre-CLULESS creator Peter Benchley, are a crowd favorite due to their imposing size, barb-coated tentacles, and high intelligence. As part of an agreement with various oceanographic institutes, the Geneva Cabinet of Curiosities is allowed to display the specimens until they reach adulthood as long as the staff routinely provides any information possible on this enigmatic species.
- Benchley's dire squids use fiendish giant squid stats.
New Game Mechanic: RadGoo
RadGoo is a term referring to patches of the so-called "comic book sludge" that is notable for producing mutations. Entire ponds of this sickly green substance can be found in the jungles of Papua New Guinea, the Australian Outback, and various other parts of the post-CLULESS world that are known for their mutants. In addition to various mutants, areas infected with RadGoo often spawn giant animals and vermin, vicious plant life, and the undead.
Any character that spends 1 or more minutes at least knee deep in RadGoo without the proper protective gear (such as a HazMat suit) must succeed in a Fortitude save (DC 20) or start mutating. A character in the process of mutating suffers a -4 penalty to attacks and all skills and activities that rely on concentration as their body twists and contorts, as well as taking 1d4 points of bludgeoning damage each round as their own body rebels against itself. Any character that survives the ordeal automatically gains 2 random drawbacks and 1d3 random mutations (for more on drawbacks and mutations, see d20 Future).
Aquarius Alodar
First Post
*ahem* You will note that the (bolded) substance in question only affects Kryptonians and K-Genners, of course.....IIRC.
Rappy
First Post
Indeed. I didn't give it any stats, but I felt it was an appropriate item anyway, limited as its mutations are.
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