Supervillains Anonymous (Millennium Organization)

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Behemoth
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Re: Supervillains Anonymous (Millennium Organization)

Post by Behemoth » Sun Jun 09, 2019 1:11 am

Location: "the church next to the police department", Millennium City
Time: Shortly after 7pm
Asset: Behemoth
Purpose: Designated Do-Gooder

"We need you here, kid," they said. "Three or four people here are ones you've met before," they said. And who are the people I've met before?

Ralph, and Diva.


To be fair, he couldn't blame the cops for Powerfly not being here. She was a slippery one. Isaac would know, with how that one time went. He didn't think about it too much, though, considering neither of the rogues who were actually here had been there, and probably didn't even know who she was. What did cross his mind was the Chicago Public Library, and the fact that they'd both recognize him, which would not help with the whole "sit by the door and blend in" thing, but unless one of them spoke up - or was smart enough to recognize by now that he was neither a henchman nor a potential employer - he'd be okay for now.

The main reason he'd been called into this room, specifically, rather than "waiting elsewhere on-location", was the big green fella by the wall. The normal guards wanted some extra security in the room right after they saw that one, and it didn't take Isaac long to realize why. He looked like something straight out of a video game, and made up of raw muscle. There was a smaller person sitting in a plastic chair near him, younger based on their behavior, though their outfit wasn't too revealing when it came to gender. That was smart, Isaac decided, not staring for too long. Smart and Muscle sitting near each other never ended well. He'd have to watch them.

Other main players were an older man, who the guards had told him was pretty chill, on parole, very polite, here genuinely - probably the only one, to be honest. Next was a bit of a weirdo, mummy-wrapped with a psycho's smile, who Isaac had already decided to keep a good distance from as he slipped in and sat down near the door. Last was a creature that his mask immediately pinged as an Old World Vampire. Not necessarily the most dangerous strain, but definitely the kind of thing to not let get behind you if a riot did break out.

"Tin-Can-Wing-Man," real alias Scrapyard (Isaac couldn't judge, his name was Behemoth) gave the younger vigilante a nod as he moved toward the door. Isaac had given up the numerous knives and blades he kept in his belt at the door, but his white forearm guards were fully charged, and his claws were an ever-present part of his gloves, even when hidden. He needed to blend in, but that didn't mean he needed to go completely disarmed. Actually, that would defeat the purpose of being one of the two "designated do-gooders" on the location. Hippo Steve was pretty threatening himself, if he wanted to be, but Isaac had been informed the odd mixed creature was a former villain himself who volunteered to help the little get-together that had inspired him to change his life.

Back to the room, to the subject. Ralph and the mummy man both jokingly wished Diva luck with her introduction, and Isaac let his cloak hood fall just a little further forward than before. In theory, he could get through this whole meeting without being noticed or called out, but things always went wrong. Had to be ready for contingencies. His primary one being to just admit if outed, and then see if anyone actually tried to do anything about it and, if not, just stay in his seat. Not a foolproof plan, but good enough for his needs.
Job 40:15

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illirica
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Re: Supervillains Anonymous (Millennium Organization)

Post by illirica » Sun Jun 09, 2019 1:28 am

Oh, her henchman was here. That was convenient. Some guy who'd apparently learned how to be a villain from Oscar the Grouch, complete with trashcan supersuit, decided he thought he could interrupt and babble about stuff. She rolled her eyes, licking the sugar glaze slowly off of her doughnut while waiting for him to stop talking.

"Mm. Thank you for that... introduction. Very rehearsed. Ralph, so glad to see you didn't get turned into paste. I knew you had it in you." The man rude enough to talk with his mouth full just got another eye-roll. Apparently she was going to be doing those a lot tonight.

"I'm Diva, and I know what an alias is, thank you, so we'll just stick with that. My powers are being amazing, and they make me feel fantastic. I decided to join you here today because I was bored, and I thought maybe I would brighten all your lives by allowing you in my presence. The moment I most regret is the one where I decided to do so because you people can't come up with a caramel macchiato. Does that answer your questions? Of course it does, because, as I said, I am amazing. Now, it might be hard to believe, but I'm willing to share my fantastic abilities with a few qualified individuals - so those of you who are interested in going places that are a little more interesting and getting involved in the best shows of the century can come talk to me about that after the meeting. I might even let one of you buy me a coffee."

She gave them a bright smile and took a little nibble of the doughnut, making sure she actually finished it before speaking again. "Any questions? I'm ready to hear the rest of your qualifications now."

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Re: Supervillains Anonymous (Millennium Organization)

Post by Drago » Sun Jun 09, 2019 2:27 am


The room suddenly got much more cramped than it had been before, the respective ego none of the villains could ever afford to leave at home exerting pressure on the atmosphere, as usual it could possibly feel akin to a ticking time bomb to anyone who was there to oppose them. The last two figures to walk in were a simple man on his day-to-day attire and the self-endearing Scrapyard, who Drago knew very well, and who he would most likely have attempted to make eat his own tongue were he on his so-called golden years. Still, the bragging armor-clad fool didn't quite get under his skin anymore, insecurity was a tough mountain to climb, some simply decided onto their on rope was a good plan to overcome it, while, in truth, they would never leave the same place.

"Oh, hello, Steve. Didn't quite see you there." Brian greeted the reformed villain with a cordial grin and a subtle, yet respectful, nod. He knew the man from their earlier days, had worked on his team a couple times, seen his onslaught against police barricades and the scraped metal that was left afterwards. Steve was a fun man to drink with, reminisce about their better days. Couldn't quite hold his liquor too, for a man of such size, and sometimes tears would well up inside his eyes when he talked about his sick son.

And yet, he never saw the man cry.

Criminality really was an arduous path, one who steeled the heart, driven by either greed or need, yet Steve just didn't have it in him. It was a fair judgement, a human-bulldozer doesn't need to serve that purpose forever. It was nice seeing his face every once in a while, even better to know he had gotten a job like he wanted. Drago couldn't really feel a huge amount of joy for it, but it had it's merits, and the Dragon of Duskburg respected it wholeheartedly.

What he couldn't agree wholeheartedly, however, was the blatantly conceited personality of the woman casually addressing them as if they were underlings. He had left that life behind now, and being reminded of it had his fist clench slightly tighter around the cup of coffee, which he so calmly seemed to sip from. It was a minor inconvenience, after all, and mildy entertaining to realize there were still people such as that wherever he went. Diva was her name, not peculiar at all, he expected at least half of the people inside the room to have a single, completely random, word they saw in a Thesaurus and instantaneously determined they should go by that instead.

He heard her attentively, even the announcement of a possible job, which seemed rather imbecillic given they were inside a reunion to prevent criminals and villains from doing exactly that. Not that he wasn't interested, of course, by the proposal, but it did seem as an odd choice. She either had golden hair and a flashy outfit to hide her lack of intelligence, or she trusted her skills to an extent she thought those two heroes couldn't handle her. A third, perhaps more correct assesment, was the possibility of her trusting her abilities to escape. All things considered, she had lost his interest to work with her the moment she opened her mouth.

Not that it would be relevant to her, despite his unorthodox build for an advanced age, he was still merely an old man.

"Very well, I believe it is my turn." He rose from his chair, making his way towards the coffee table to delicately place his own cup above it. He then proceeded to make his way towards the podium, a well-mannered smirk and nod towards Diva despite their clear differences in views. Clearing his throat and twirling his moustache, Brian never once lost his composure. "My name is Brian, but most call me Drago. That is the closest I have to an alias, but it is just my last name. And I probably raise this room's average age by quite a couple of years, hohoho." He paused, both hands now folding behind his back. "My 'powers' consist of channeling life-force known as Chi, I learned it from a dear friend. It is a fancier way of saying I can punch harder and my body does not decay as it usually would. They make me feel young and, honestly, that's all I could ask of them. I came here today for the same reason I have come every week, my probation is ending and they insisted I at least attended these weekly. As for a regret? Being so impulsive on my younger days. Always going head-first into things, not really a good thing if you want to keep out of trouble." He bowed his head a little, and left the podium in no haste at all, making his way back towards his cup, and then back to his seat.

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Re: Supervillains Anonymous (Millennium Organization)

Post by The Original » Sun Jun 09, 2019 9:27 am

Image"I carry no weapons, but my fangs are non-removable!" The Prince of Darkness exclaimed, grinning wildly as he displayed his fangs to the security personal and moved in towards the row of seats. Walk-in ex supervillains like him weren't required to attend, but as a convicted criminal with an extremely illustrious past, the parole officers still carried around his files, and they knew well his repertoire. As such, his presence was particularly unnerving.

The same however could not be said for the others present. There were villains from all walks of live, some big shots, some small timers and not a lot of them Vlad was particularly interested in knowing about. Whether or not they feared him remained irrelevant to him, but he still noted a peculiar amount of people present with a lot of different energies about them, making for an exciting
atmosphere. Vlad expected a great show this night. His attention was momentarily diverted with the interaction of someone wrapped in toilet paper, someone that offered him a seat right next to him. Vlad did not refuse this offer, and slid in between the rows until he took the seat right next to the toilet paper man.

"My name is Vlad Dracula the 3rd, 14th Prince of the House of Basarab, the Principality of the Kingdom of Wallachia, pleasure to make acquaintance, paper man-" The toilet part, he intentionally left out, because that would be extremely trivial a matter to make enemies where non was due. Better to recruit the villains in this convention than to turn them against him, or so he thought. That too, was not extremely important to the Prince of Darkness. "Just Vlad is fine," he added, noting the toilet paper man/mummy's foreign accent.

As they were talking, the poster-boy apparent, Ralph, walked in, accompanied by a tin-can of a hero, the one who was apparently going to be the host. He clasped his hands in anticipation. These things served a darker underlying purpose. Many of Duskburg's primordial monsters and villains gather here to scout prospective criminals for their respective criminal organisations. One glance across the church and he could see those old dogs in the shadows, and much like him, waiting on this opportunity.

The first talk of the night came from Diva, and he listened attentively to her talk, refusing paper man's doughnuts, and instead taking a rather fancy packet of blood from inside his dark red trench coat. These were made in an undead factory deep in the Marsh and wholesaled across most of America, authentic vampire drink packed to contained high RC count, nutricious and enough to keep a vampire sated for a week, but to someone like Vlad, they were mere desserts only lasting enough for a fortnight.
illirica wrote:
Sun Jun 09, 2019 1:28 am
"I'm Diva, and I know what an alias is, thank you, so we'll just stick with that. My powers are being amazing, and they make me feel fantastic. I decided to join you here today because I was bored, and I thought maybe I would brighten all your lives by allowing you in my presence. The moment I most regret is the one where I decided to do so because you people can't come up with a caramel macchiato. Does that answer your questions? Of course it does, because, as I said, I am amazing. Now, it might be hard to believe, but I'm willing to share my fantastic abilities with a few qualified individuals - so those of you who are interested in going places that are a little more interesting and getting involved in the best shows of the century can come talk to me about that after the meeting. I might even let one of you buy me a coffee."
Heh. Vlad made obnoxious sipping sounds as his blood packet emptied at the end of the beautiful damsel's introduction. He knew her game, knew it well, what she wanted, which was almost the same thing most of the audience wanted. The heroes might believe in redemption but that was downright boring. If those heroes had means of ensuring he remained dead in grave, they would have done that. Vlad threw the empty blood packed over the heads of many right into a designated trash bin by the walls on the far side of the church.

Vlad offered congratulatory clapping at the end of Diva's introduction, and waited on as the second one approached the prodium to make his introduction, an older male. Henchmen material, Vlad could guess at first glance. He discovered more as the man started talking.
Drago wrote:
Sun Jun 09, 2019 2:27 am
"My name is Brian, but most call me Drago. That is the closest I have to an alias, but it is just my last name. And I probably raise this room's average age by quite a couple of years, hohoho."My 'powers' consist of channeling life-force known as Chi, I learned it from a dear friend. It is a fancier way of saying I can punch harder and my body does not decay as it usually would. They make me feel young and, honestly, that's all I could ask of them. I came here today for the same reason I have come every week, my probation is ending and they insisted I at least attended these weekly. As for a regret? Being so impulsive on my younger days. Always going head-first into things, not really a good thing if you want to keep out of trouble.""
Vlad discovered something familiar about the name. Not skybreaking famous, but this man was known around as having participated in illegal fighting rings in the area and have served as a henchmen for notorious criminal organisations in the past. Figures why he is here, at least. However, perhaps, the talent is far too outdated for the tastes of organisations, he could guess. The last thing criminal organisations needed was an investment expiring in the middle of an important heist or operation. That would cost millions of dollars, not a risk worth taking.

It was time for Vlad to assume spotlight, and as the man left the podium, he stepped up, coming to stand square behind it, his hands grasping at the sides as he began addressing the audience. "My name is Vlad. Dracula. 14th Prince of the House of Basarab, principality of the Kingdom of Wallachia. I was born 1428, moved to Millenium City back in 1842, and have been here since. Quite recently, a new neighbor moved into the abandoned castle next doors, and his dog has been pissing on my lawn. While I have long left my criminal career behind, this annoying filth has been making feel like drinking its blood dry and letting the thing rot on my neighbor's doorstep, and I do not think Duskburg authorities extend their laws into the Murder Swamp, so I am very helpless in this matter." After saying that, Vlad walked down from the podium and joined his new friend Malcolm I in sitting.

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Terak
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Re: Supervillains Anonymous (Millennium Organization)

Post by Terak » Sun Jun 09, 2019 9:07 pm

Because of a lack of caring for any of the actual villains at the event, Terak ignored anyone's prior attempts to speak with him - at most giving a snort of air, or a grunt, or whatever he felt appropriate at the time. There was a difference between they and him - they came here because of some weakness, some submission to authority, some search for redemption. Terak wished for none of those. He was a wolf, and they were the sheep. Evil sheep, yes... But nonetheless, sheep. Terak waited and watched as a couple of people came up to the podiums, said their piece, and walked off, back to the obscurity of the crowd, the field of plastic chairs. But the Great Orc's presence would be known, as when HE started towards the podium, the footsteps echoing through the whole church.

The actual wooden podium reached up to about Terak's abs, the huge frame of the orc towering over it. For a moment or two, he said nothing, still the large, brooding monstrosity, clenching and unclenching his fists. "My name is Terak. That is my only name, and I have no... 'ale-ass' for all should know of me." He stopped, and took a long breath, something a lesser being might call a sigh. Should. "I am not from this world. I don't know what you mean by powers, but my power is infinite and undeniable." Though it did not exactly answer the question, or prompt, most could gather what Terak's "powers" were, just by looking at him, rippling green muscles buried under thin pieces of rusty red mail. "I'm here today because I don't... I don't know the way this world works. This... A-merry-cuh. Where I'm from, killing, raping, pillaging, it's a way of life. Nobody looks down on it. Nobody tries to stop you. W-well, they do, but, they don't succeed.You kill them for glory. It's the Orc way." He stammered, at parts, and realized that saying all this was probably the hardest thing he's ever had to do thus far in his life.

Realizing that this show of uncertainty may be perceived as a weakness (leading hordes of Orcs had shown him some very vague leadership skills) he bared his tusk-teeth and glared at the 'hero' guarding the door. "Of this life that I lead, I regret nothing!" With a final snarl, he walked away, back to his stance by the wall, eyeing down anyone that dared to eye him, and then bringing his gaze to the doorman, fury blazing in the eyes of the Chieftain. He would not initiate bloodshed, but by the gods, he would be ready for it.
DIE!

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Re: Supervillains Anonymous (Millennium Organization)

Post by Trickster » Mon Jun 10, 2019 7:14 pm

6/6
Thursday
Evening
Image
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SUPER VILLAINS ANONYMOUS
ROOM B
w
w
w
w
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She recieved nothing more then a grunt from the green behemoth. While this "Jester" would've liked to have learned more about the being, someone else had came in. An old man who very very vaugely reminded her of one of her school's staff. Though of course, that stinky old math teacher didn't even have half the muscle this guy did.

He had sat down, and his posture reminded her of one of those snooty orchestra kids from her old school.
w
Gramps
"Did you get lost on your way to school, young lady? Hohoho. Didn't think there were any of your age who already regretted enough to come here."
w
He sounded like one too. But a smirk had formed under the pale white mask. She leaned in to whisper, as those pesky "heroes" liked to listen in.
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Jester
"I don't think this is a place someone who is lost would go to; And I'm not sure if regret is the right word."
w
As she leaned back in her chair, a woman had sat next to her. She was in one of those tight outfits, the ones that didn't do much if someone wanted to put a knife through you. Though while the "Jester" shouldn't be talking, since she doesn't exactly wear anything protective either, she had an excuse.

As she listened to the older woman, it was rather clear that she thought highly of herself. It reminded her quite a lot of some of the kids in the student council, or debate. The ones that acted like they should always be on the mic, or the ones that loved being right.

But luckily, she had been shut up by one of those heroes- that had brought in a less then interesting looking man -Who had also been followed by someone that announced something loudly (addmitedly she had ignored him, since all this waiting was starting to get boring).
w
Winged Windbag
"You there! Be quiet! This isn't your meeting! Everyone go up to the podium and introduce yourselves, one-by-one! You're up first, lady. Here's what you're going to say when you get up there, everyone, so listen up:
Your first name and supervillian alias, What your powers are, and how they make you feel, Why you've decided to join us here today, A moment that you regret about being a supervillian.
After everyone's gone up and spoken, Hippo Steve here will bring out the donuts, and we'll have our socialization break. I'll be here by the door to make sure nobody leaves early. We'll continue after the break. Enjoy the coffee, everyone."
w
And after that long lecture, Miss Goldilocks decided to go up first- but not before being mockingly cheered by some in the room. -but before she knew it, she had been offered donuts by a man wrapped up like a mummy. She took one, but had no way to eat it- yet.
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Golditalks
"I'm Diva, and I know what an alias is, thank you, so we'll just stick with that. My powers are being amazing, and they make me feel fantastic. I decided to join you here today because I was bored, and I thought maybe I would brighten all your lives by allowing you in my presence. The moment I most regret is the one where I decided to do so because you people can't come up with a caramel macchiato. Does that answer your questions? Of course it does, because, as I said, I am amazing. Now, it might be hard to believe, but I'm willing to share my fantastic abilities with a few qualified individuals - so those of you who are interested in going places that are a little more interesting and getting involved in the best shows of the century can come talk to me about that after the meeting. I might even let one of you buy me a coffee."
w
Just as she had expected, the moment this woman opened her mouth, she liked her even less and was glad that she had stopped babbling.

But before she could even get firm footing to stand, the old man had decided to go. Though at least she was sure that he wouldn't spew about how great he was at being annoying.
w
Gramps
"My name is Brian, but most call me Drago. That is the closest I have to an alias, but it is just my last name. And I probably raise this room's average age by quite a couple of years, hohoho. My 'powers' consist of channeling life-force known as Chi, I learned it from a dear friend. It is a fancier way of saying I can punch harder and my body does not decay as it usually would. They make me feel young and, honestly, that's all I could ask of them. I came here today for the same reason I have come every week, my probation is ending and they insisted I at least attended these weekly. As for a regret? Being so impulsive on my younger days. Always going head-first into things, not really a good thing if you want to keep out of trouble."
w
His speech was over, and he sat down. Though this seemed more like a lecture, one that she probably could've slept through had it gone on any longer. But once more, she had reacted too slow. A man who introduced him as "Vlad Dracula" was next.
w
Bland Dragula
"My name is Vlad. Dracula. 14th Prince of the House of Basarab, principality of the Kingdom of Wallachia. I was born 1428, moved to Millenium City back in 1842, and have been here since. Quite recently, a new neighbor moved into the abandoned castle next doors, and his dog has been pissing on my lawn. While I have long left my criminal career behind, this annoying filth has been making feel like drinking its blood dry and letting the thing rot on my neighbor's doorstep, and I do not think Duskburg authorities extend their laws into the Murder Swamp, so I am very helpless in this matter."
w
At least his introduction had some jokes in it. Murder Swamp? Castle? She was pretty sure neither of those existed. Plus the name Murder Swamp sounded like something she had come up with in eighth grade, like Bloodedge or something of the sort.

For the next person, which was the big green guy, she had just given up on trying to go next. There were times when patience was something that needed to be learned, even if she didn't want to.
w
Derrick?
"My name is Terak. That is my only name, and I have no... 'ale-ass' for all should know of me. I am not from this world. I don't know what you mean by powers, but my power is infinite and undeniable. I'm here today because I don't... I don't know the way this world works. This... A-merry-cuh. Where I'm from, killing, raping, pillaging, it's a way of life. Nobody looks down on it. Nobody tries to stop you. W-well, they do, but, they don't succeed. You kill them for glory. It's the Orc way. Of this life that I lead, I regret nothing!"
w
And as she should have expected from this.. person. He sounded like he had come from the land of Mordor, looking to pillage the next village but accidentally tripped and ended up a few centuries late.

But no one else decided to stand, so it was finally her chance.

She stepped up to the podium, adjusting the bow tie briefly before clearing her throat. As she spoke, she certainly sounded more boyish- and slightly older -then she had when speaking to the old man.
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Jester
"My name is Cameron, and I formerly went by the alias Jester."
w
The comedy mask morphed. The grin melted at the edges, and the eyes looked more sorrowful. It had turned into the Tragedy mask.
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Jester
"And my abilities, they make me feel oh so bad. Being able to make anything look like anything else, it was truly dastardly when I used it to swipe credit cards and IDs!

I came here just to get all that off my chest after realizing my wrong, and stopping the other year.

And my lowest point?"
w
The sad frown of the mask grew.
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Jester
"I had become so desperate to steal something, that I had taken candy. From a child nonetheless! It was so horrible, that I knew I had to stop then."
w
She lets out a sigh, before sulking back to her chair and seating herself with a rather sad posture.
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Re: Supervillains Anonymous (Millennium Organization)

Post by Lord of Nothing » Wed Jun 12, 2019 6:56 pm

Sudden Death reclined back in his seat, idly munching on a donut as he looked all around the crowd at quite the cast they had assembled. He wasn't used to being among such a colorful assortment of people. Not just on the outside, but on the inside. He could see a little bit.

"This is gonna be good."

First was everyone's sofar favorite sweetheart. Malcom cackled to himself, naturally feeding off hatred and aggravation. The best part was that he didn't need to do a god. Damn. Thing. Diva got up on stage and irradiated an aura so resoundingly repulsive that she made someone who looked drop-dead-gorgeous look just plain ugly. She oozed an arrogance that had no basis and it oddly uplifted Malcom's humanity to see that humanity at least hasn't fallen that far.

He could just sit there in silence, like he had when the vampire man had. And he did for a few seconds, letting the lack of reception speak for itself before he did.

"Next!"

Moving on from that, came another man. Oldest in the room, as a matter o-fact. The man speaks, short and to the point. One thing he says does strike a chord, with Malcom. Impulsiveness. Acting on emotion and instinct alone. He nods, and says nothing.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

"Looks like you're up next Chocula. Knock em dead."

The man had spoke and Malcom found himself shaking his head. Seemingly, the fuckin' fanger was at the very least entertaining with his arrogance and his childishness. The Super Serial Killer put this man above the glowing Barbie Doll and the tough guy hero, cause at least the guy was kinda funny. Not the kind of funny that made your ribcage crack, but the kind that made Malcom smile even though he didn't want to.

Next was a Jolly green giant who hailed from a realm that was obviously not this one. He looked ripe and ready to pillage and kill, but seems to have learned real quick was that wasn't the way of earth. An orc. Not a metahuman. The man was uncommon, but givin' his appearance and his mannerisms, it seemed obvious what his abilities were. And even so, he could still a hint of weakness. True weakness. The lapse was so obvious that even an amateur that you didn't need to be a trained serial killer to spot it. A part of Malcom felt sympathy for the man, but his eyes did not break. From the man's, as the killer naturally saw it as a challenge.
Image
Two Red Orbs which hung inside a sea of black sclera stared back. And he smiled warmly at the orc eyeing him. Eventually, the two red orbs rotated and swiveled in the general direction of the trickster, before fixating on them. The more the person spoke, the more Malcom found himself tilting his head at her. She appeared to be a petty thief, but there was something about the mask. Was it a machine? Or was it magic? Somethin' else. The way her tone shifted, it seemed almost indicative of her being possessed. Part of him wanted to see if she'd ever take it off or raise it, if she could. Hadn't eaten the donut. Why even take one?

Then he looked around the room, and had seen that everyone else had gone. "Well. Guess I'm up." The mostly unknown, Speedster Serial Killer stood up, walking slowly over to the podium. He looked down at it, then leaned over it and rested his elbows on it, as it looked at the crowd.

He raises up one finger. "Ma name is Malcom. Ma alias is Sudden Death." He says with a southern drawl mixing in with his more proper language.

He raises his second finger. "My power is super speed, instant acceleration and a bit of the strength and durability required to accommodate that kinda speed. Enough to rip a man's head off. Been shot a couple times and been fine. Comes with that of course is inhuman skill. Knives in particular."

He raises a third finger. "Reason why I'm joining you fine gents n' ladies today is cause I guess, I'm frankly tired of killin'. Been doing this for a while. Some Fifty years it's been now. What changes is the place and the time. The why. The effect. But I ain't gettin' any slower it seems. And I ain't been caught in bout a Two decades. So I wanted a change of pace. Saw a flyer for Supervillains anonymous." He takes out the flyer from his trenchcoat. "Kinda thought it was funny. Buncha wacky crooks gatherin' up in one place. So decided I'd show up and try somethin' different."

He raises up his fourth finger. "Killed a lot of folk. What is it, must be thousands by now? Men, women, children. Yadayada. Don't regret that. Criminal Psychopath. Won't really get into the why. But I will say there is a reason, now." He looked down, his smiling face stoic, as he stared at the podium for a few seconds, and then decided to speak. "Let's just say I had daddy issues. Father was Serial Killer too. But he did it randomly. And when I was out on my own, I couldn't help but kill anyone and anything without reason. Without any understanding for the value of a life. Can't narrow it down to any specific person. But the moment I was self aware and convenient to realize what I did, is when I regretted it. When I realized I was just like dear old dad. Like that retarded fuck. Advice to anyone who's gonna take the business. Who's got the urge. Remember why ya do it."

He puts his hand down, disappoint in his own now somber mood. Bringing up a smile would feel forced. So, Malcom held a face that was straight and relaxed. Better than frownin'. He walked off the stage with his bandaged hands in his trenchcoat pocket. He takes a seat, next to Chocula. And waits for someone else to change the subject. As though, he wanted to focus on something else. Someone else.
Bashanipal,The Accursed
Voracious, The Vampire Vagabond
Styx, The Bullet Witch
Sudden Death, Malcom the Merciful
HossDaBoss,The Backyard Drug Lord
Belle, Delighted Fledgling of the Damned
Auspex, Your Friendly Neighborhood Domestic Terrorist
Mera The Merciless,A Once God of War
Ms. Mayhem, The Mayor of beatdown town
Ultra, The Psycho Crusher
Grevious, The Cosmic Draconian Conqueror
Melinoe, The Gift of Death
Lethe, The Wild Reaper

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Behemoth
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Re: Supervillains Anonymous (Millennium Organization)

Post by Behemoth » Thu Jun 13, 2019 12:09 am

Well, well, the people in the room were even worse than he'd thought at first. At least they were entertaining. Of course, Diva was first, though she would've been even without Scrapyard's invitation. Scrapyard moved to step forward at Diva's invitation, but when nobody stood up, he relaxed again. When she was done, the next speaker was Drago, an old henchman, in much better shape than Isaac saw Ralph being in in twenty to thirty years. He was the only one who seemed to have actually come here for the meeting. And the only one who seemed to be telling the truth about anything, besides the serial killer and the orc.

The fanger, which Isaac's basic ACF training identified as an old-world vampire, behaved... exactly how older old-world vampires were expected to behave. Arrogant, unwilling to blend into human society, general sense of superiority. Probably hadn't changed at all, either, no matter what he'd said about his neighbor's dog through his weird accent and grammatically incorrect English.

The orc, on the other hand, seemed genuinely interested in human culture. He'd discussed his own, but his quiet behavior indicated that he wanted to observe, even if it was to see other potential warlords rather than learn how to fit in. He bared his teeth at Scrapyard, who had apparently been accepted as the general host, and who the outsider was interpreting as an enemy leader. Scrapyard didn't even flinch, aware that even Terak's strength probably wouldn't dent the thick armor. Not unarmed, anyway.

The smart one talked right after the muscle. Their voice was either a boy in puberty, or a girl dropping her voice to sound like a boy in puberty, and Isaac genuinely couldn't tell the difference. Even their name, Cameron, was pretty interchangeable, not to mention probably fake. That was bad. Combine that with the admission of kleptomania and the exaggerated "woe is me" attitude, and it wasn't hard to tell that they weren't at all serious about what was going on here.

Last was serial killer guy, who obviously wasn't telling the whole truth but was also sharing way more than anyone else here short of the orc.

The more it went on, the more Isaac was tempted to step up with a story of his own. Hey, everybody else was lying, and he and Scrapyard had decided on something beforehand anyway. Besides, Ralph hadn't spoken yet, which meant Isaac had a chance to make a defense to an accusation not yet made, and see what the henchman did in response.

"Well, um. Guess it's my turn." His voice wasn't the usual heavily-modulated rasp the helmet made it, but rather just a little bit edited so that it would still be unrecognizable. Just enough to retain anonymity, without trying for intimidation factors. That wouldn't work here, anyway, not with Speedster of Death and Chieftain Green present.

"Kid. What're you doing? This isn't part of the plan." Scrapyard spoke, his helmet muted so the rest of the room wouldn't hear. The transmission came through, but Isaac didn't bother explaining. "The Plan" consisted of Isaac pretending to be a young villain-turned-hero in order to watch the rest more closely. To be convincing, he'd need to do what everyone else was doing. He caught Steve's eye as well as he could through the mask, trying to put him into the loop. Then he walked up to the podium. Body language unsure. Nervous. Inexperienced. Voice stammering a little.

"I, uh... my name's Cody, alias Beast. Most of you probably don't know me. I-I don't have any powers, just some gift with armoring, and I guess that makes me feel kind of weak. The whole 'too normal' issue. So I tried the henchmaning thing for a bit, worked with Diva once, then realized pretty quick I didn't have the heart for it. Or too much heart or conscience or whatever." He took a deep breath, but his attention seemed to be locked on Ralph. As if daring the henchman to challenge his story, to see if Ralph thought a room full of villains would believe him over "Cody." "I tried the independent villain thing for a bit, working by my own rules while still trying to work through illegal kinds of stuff. Guess I wasn't very good at that, either, because Scrapyard got me my first night. He told me about this instead of putting me right in the pen. I'm... I'm grateful, for that. And that I didn't have time to make any regrets for myself."

Isaac had been sitting in the middle of the group, but when he stepped back to an empty chair, it was apart, alone, as if he subconsciously realized he didn't quite fit in, rather than making a conscious choice to sit where he could keep an eye on almost everyone there. It conveniently fit both the role he was playing, and the one he was filling, as did looking back at Scrapyard, as if for approval. The winged hero just sort of nodded to him without saying anything, even into his helmet.

Isaac, for his part, went back to watching.
Job 40:15

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Ralph
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Re: Supervillains Anonymous (Millennium Organization)

Post by Ralph » Mon Jun 17, 2019 9:20 am

Diva was annoying and full of herself, as usual. Drago seemed like an honest, straight-to-the-point kind of tough guy. Ralph respected that - respected him more than anyone else here really. The next guy claimed he was Dracula. Well, fuck it, maybe he was. Nothing really surprised Ralph these days. Weird was the new normal. Normal was the new weird.

And that makes Ralph the weirdest guy in this room.

Terak was impressive - he scared Ralph quite a bit, actually. On the other hand, he seemed like he might be dumb, easily manipulated perhaps, although Ralph wasn't entirely sure - he knew better than anybody that people could be easily underestimated. Ralph himself wasn't really quite the moronic idiot many in his past had accused him of being, after all.

This Jester, who Ralph was still pretty sure was a child, gave some kind of weird fake sob story. Stealing candy from a baby? Seriously? Nobody does that for real unless they want to end up getting bit by baby teeth and slapped with a purse.

Plus, that's just like... fucked up, man.


Ralph didn't like her. Not at all.

Sudden Death spoke next. Ralph wasn't sure if he should be believed or not, he didn't think creepy mummy serial killers really stopped being creepy mummy serial killers, but hey, good for him. Guy kind of trailed off at the end into creep territory, but whatever. As far as spooky supervillians went, the guy seemed alright? Ralph wasn't really sure what to make of him, besides that he should stay try and stay on his good side.

Ralph eyed Behemoth sternly as he engaged in his little role-play exercise. Ralph was just trying to figure out what exactly his game was, but he'd let him play for it now, if just to see where it went if nothing else. He certainly wasn't gonna say anything. The guy looked more like a villain than he did, for fucks sake.

Ralph took a gulp of coffee, all-too-aware that it was his turn to speak now, he choked on the coffee a bit - clearly nervous. But then he decided...

Ralph [Internal Monologue]: You know what, actually... Fuck it.

There was no need to be nervous. Hell, however important all these fools seemed to think they were, he knew deep down it wouldn't matter in the end. They wouldn't matter.

None of this would, really. He knew his destination, his dream. He knew not the path... Or who he would be by the time he reached it's end.

But he knew that he would get there. Eventually. He wasn't sure how, or why. He just knew.

Could anyone else in the room really say the same?


Image
Ralph snapped back into reality, his hands gripping the podium, he himself having been lost in his own thoughts. Thoughts that belonged to him and him alone.

Ralph: "Uh... right. Yeah. I'm Ralph. I don't have an alias. I don't have any powers. I don't have any training. I'm just... a guy. Which makes me feel like... makes me feel like - like just a guy, I guess. But that's okay, I think. Sometimes that's all it takes. I'm here cause I'm on probation and my parole officer told me to be here. Happy?"

He shot an annoyed glance at Scrapyard.

Ralph: "Now I gotta say a moment I regret, right?"

Ralph chuckled, shaking his head back and forth.

Ralph: "What - like the rest of you did? Diva and her caramel whatever, Drago and his "rowdy" early years, Count Dracula over here and his dog piss problem, Terak didn't even say anything, Jester treated this whole thing like a joke, and the serial killer here regrets killing people!"

Ralph's voice grew angrier with each person's regrets named, growing intense. Getting darker. Getting emotional.

Ralph: "Ohh, give me a fucking break, people!"

"Wanna know what I regret, huh? Wanna know what keeps me up every single night? What brings me to tears randomly in the middle of the day, with zero warning?"


Image
"You wanna know what I regret? Something real? Something that actually matters?"

"I regret losing the love of my life... because I wasn't good enough."

"...And you know what?"

Just say it, Ralph.

Just say it.

...

Ralph [Internal Monologue]: I'd bring the whole world down to it's fucking knees if it meant that she'd love me again.

Instead, Ralph said nothing, his hands gripping the sides of the podium so hard his knuckles had turned white. He took a deep breath, and let go. He stood there for a minute longer in silence, before removing himself from the podium and returning to his seat, his arms crossed firmly across his chest.

Ralph had spoken.


Image

...And one day, all would listen.

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