Peridot
Forum Replies Created
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Fiddlesticks, I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t hurt. I didn’t mean to upset her, Skvaada thought rather sadly as Kolarabi responded cooly, clearly offended by the mention of the hemospectrum. She had always praised herself on being more tolerant than her ancestor about such matters, but it was clear she still had a long way to go to avoid ruffling any feathers.
“Sorry about that,” she mumbled, a guilty expression on her face as Zembra rushed over and expertly smoothed over the damage deals with hair talk. “You really would look great,” the indigo blood responded, trying to not let the argument ruin the sleep-over party.
She was just about to decaptchalogue her snacks when a new troll appeared outside the hive, bellowing loudly.
“So uncouth,” Skvaada muttered distastefully to herself even as her pointed ears perked up curiously, as the troll barged into the hive. Barging into another troll’s hive, of all the audacity! She could feel herself grow a little flustered as the newcomer, a jade blooded troll quickly grew overwhelmed with the casual yet scandalous party. Were these “romance” movies really so scandalous? D-Did she really have to stare at her hair like that? A nervous tint of indigo passed across Skvaada’s face.
Skvaada was snapped out of her brief moment of embarassment when “Maryam” promptly keeled over onto the floor. Did that mean the pink stripes were good or a no go? She couldn’t really decipher the jadeblood’s facial expression.
“…That was hawkward, I mean awkward…” She inwardly berated herself. Those dratted bird puns just tended to come out when she got nervous. At least she wasn’t sweating puddles yet. Since Kolarabi’s response made it clear that “Maryam” was here to stay for the moment at least. She might as well formally introduce herself.
“Please, you may call me Skvaada. Are you here to get your hair dyed too Miss…Maryam was it?”
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It was easy for “the Kraken” to evade police pursuit when some of the police officers were still working to impose order on the chaos of Arkham Asylum and when they kept radioing in each of their positions and movements. The villain cackled to himself as he tuned into the frequency of electromagnetic waves on which the Gotham’s police radio system worked, only to hear the police officers decide to surround and storm a building where they believed he was hiding. In fact, Cody was several blocks away, near the city hospital, having already successfully stashed his civilian clothes in money in a dumpster for later pick-up.
Having gotten away, he decided to milk this little villainous excursion for all its worth and take the opportunity to top off on some electricity. Sadly, his electric bills went through the roof on the best of days even without using his connection to store additional charge. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to tune out the city noises of traffic, pigeons and human crowds to focus on the various electric fields around him. Of course nearly every pedestrian had their own small electric field combined with a larger one emitting from their cell-phone. Then there were radio waves, vehicles, the tiny fields of small animals, so much sensory information to sort through. Finally though, he found the jackpot. Directly beneath him a faint field from beneath the ground pulsed through: Gotham’s power grid.
A toothy grin spread across his face as he discretely entered the nearby metro station and followed the source of power, ignoring any “Authorized Personnel Only” or “Danger: High Voltage” signs. The tunnels were dank, dreary and poorly lit but he kept following the subterranean power line. This must be what a mosquito feels like, he thought as he carefully monitored the amount of electricity pulsing through the cables, searching for the cable with the most amount of current, the juiciest vein. The villain clattered to a stop as he found just the right place to strike, and gleefully tore the wires from their fixed location, with all of his appendages busily at work stripping the protective coating bare and lapping up errant blue sparks.
Immediately, he could feel the flow of Gotham’s electricity, the city’s vile heart-beat rushing into his body even as up above the ground, Gotham fell into a power-outage. Darkness overcame the streets, the police station, the airport, the asylum, the hospital, the subway, any building without a working generator. Not that the city’s concerns mattered to the Kraken. Only the euphoric rush of a ridiculous amount of untapped power, belonging solely to him registered in the back of his mind. So what if people were on life-support systems, or got stuck in a metro train, or if trains started going out of control? Let someone else deal with it, all he wanted was his daily fix of pure, electrically charged goodness and if people got hurt in the process, all the better.
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Romance movies? Skvaada normally didn’t watch those, were they like action movies but…no action? She furrowed her brow a bit trying to imagine how such a plot could work. Where would the tension and conflict and ultimate climax come from if there wasn’t any action? “Oh, Kolarabi, was it? Would you like something to eat? The highblood here apparently only has kelp and fish so I brought some mixed snacks.” Before she knew it, that darn shark was attacking again. The indigo blooded troll had just enough warning to brace herself before the shark attacked. The thud was jarring, certainly enough to catch her off balance. She was gaining confidence in the strength of the plexiglass, since the shark had been repeatedly repelled.
Skvaada gave a good natured giggle of amusement at the new troll, Kolarabi as she got flung backwards by the impact of Zembra’s charging lusus. Well, this proved that Kolarabi was of a lower blood caste instead of possibly one of Zembra’s friends pretending to be lower. The tremor of such attacks had barely even fazed her, but she was sure that highbloods were stronger and more violent than the lesser breeds. It must be terrible to be a lowblood. Although normally she would have been ashamed to have fallen down like Kolarabi had just done, she had to keep in mind that the new troll just was a lower blood caste, and thus weaker and couldn’t possibly be expected to live up to highblood standards.
“Oh drat, Kolarabi, are you alright? I forgot you were low on the hemospectrum for a moment. Is your head okay? I can’t really remember how much damage your type can take.”
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Cody’s eyes furtively glanced side to side and tried not to let his eagerness show as he stood a few feet off from a businessman currently attempting to get cash from an ATM machine at the corner of a street. His home-made disguise chafed slightly underneath his regular street clothes, and it was an effort to keep his tentacles still underneath his clothes, but it would be all worth it in the end. Maybe he could even think about investing in a new suit, if everything went well. Quickly checking his phone, the young man scrolled through his messages and gave a derisive snort at his mother’s inane texts. He had more important things to do than worry about than his online courses. Namely, crime. The man in front of him had finally finished and while Cody could easily snatch the fat wallet out of his hands, there was something a bit more sophisticated he wanted to try.
Approaching the ATM machine, he began pressing random buttons all the while flowing a mild electrical current through the machine. A low chuckle sounded under his breath as he imagined the device spitting out rolls of $100 bills with a smooth whir. Instead the machine let out a high-pitched whine before becoming overloaded and breaking down. “Crap.” I guess I can’t control machines, then… Immediately, an alarm sounded. It was inaudible to the normal human ear, but Cody could immediately sense it. Realizing that he didn’t have much time before the police came, he quickly ducked behind an alleyway and changed into his costume. He then used a mixture of sharp kicks and rending tentacles to rip the ATM machine open like a piñata. A flood of bills came gushing out like blood in response, and the villain gleefully tied knots in his civilian clothes’ arms and legs before packing in as much money as he could into the bag.
By this time a police officer, hearing the alarm rushed over to the scene of the crime only to witness Cody ransacking the ATM machine. Pulling out his baton and a police radio he messaged the nearest station: “I’ve got a metahuman perp down by the ATM near Monarch Theater.” Before the police officer could get any more words out, a cold metallic tentacle promptly grasped him by the throat cutting off his words. The police radio clattered onto the street. Cody grinned maniacally, staring at the helpless human choking in his grasp. He decided to apply some pressure, squeezing tightly until the police office passed out due to lack of oxygen. Picking up the police radio, he told the panicking voice, “I’m not just some ‘metahuman perp’. The name is Kraken.” With a snappy click, he turned off the police radio and then dashed down into the alleyways.
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Cody pulls out a variety of spray-cans and holding one can in each clawed tentacle, he writes his name in enormous graffiti letters across the board containing all of the rules, cackling manically while he does so.
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Name: Cody Walker “a.k.a: Kraken”
Age: 20
Appearance: Cody has short blonde hair which tends to stick up at odd angles, giving him a wild and disheveled appearance. He also possesses hazel-green eyes and a fairly average frame.Civilian Appearance: Adapted mainly to avoid freaking out pedestrians when he wants to enter stores. He wears a long black winter coat, a forest green sweater and dark brown pants, with some thin cosmetic eyeglass frames. He doesn’t actually care about disguising himself from the cops but is usually not up to mischief in this guise.
Villain Appearance: Cody wears a simple blue and black mask over his eyes. His outfit is a black and blue modern dive suit. He possesses four metallic tentacles made up of a tight cable of many copper wires and an iron core with a reach of 4-5 feet long. The tentacles are actually quite longer than that, but their reach is diminished because they attach by coiling around his torso, interwoven with plates of iron. His two upper tentacles sprout from his shoulder blades, and the lower two come from each hip.
Abilities:
Electricity Generation: Can naturally produce a current in his body of up to 700 V/day.
Magnetism: Can use a current to control the magnetization of certain metals (iron, copper, nickel). This is how he controls his tentacles.
Electricity Storage: Can store within his body up to 100 MV of electricity before becoming electrocuted. (power plants produce 100 MV/hour)
Electrolocation: When in contact with a substance which conducts electricity, he can determine the location of electric fields and nearby objects. In air, he can determine the presence of electrical fields, and is sensitive to electromagnetic waves.
Neuro-electricity Manipulation: By infusing his (or someone’s body he comes in contact with) with an electrical current he can speed up neural impulses and processes. This increases the intensity of pain and speeds up reflexes, thinking, and healing (halves healing time so better for recovery than in-battle healing), but also has a taxing effect on the body and will leave the recipient exhausted.Villain
Location: Gotham City -
The seat of the chair contained a gentle dip in the middle, perfectly matching the curve of a human posterior. A thin layer of grey dust covered the seat, back and legs of the chair distorting the light tan color of the varnished oak. Underneath the dust, darker brown lines ran in a vertical pattern across the entire outer surface of the chair like tiger stripes. These miniature grain-lines were the only clue that the seat of the chair was in fact made up of several pieces of wood instead of one continuous piece. Light grey screws lay burrowed at each intersection between the different pieces of the chair. These screws kept the rectangular legs from wobbling or wiggling underneath the entirety of the chair and attached the horizontal cross-bars connecting each leg. Two horizontal wooden beams connected the cross-bars, providing extra stability as well as a place to store school books or binders underneath. The whole chair had a rectangular and no-nonsense feel about it with no added flourishes or carvings. Still, small touches such as the slightly curved back ensured that the furniture could accommodate a human spine and be at least comfortable to sit in. This chair would be perfect for a young student: sturdy and cheap.
Zabrian: Good Job I will Give you an A- as the last sentence where as it does what is asked seems to be added just to reach the goal of 10 lines.
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“I apologize for taking so long,” Skvaada said once she finished opening up the secret entrance to the sea-dweller’s hive. The hive door was clearly made out of sturdy metal since her grip left only faintest indentation. Since it wasn’t incredibly noticeable, she decided not to bring any attention to the property damage and instead focused on the troll in front of her. “Zembra’s lusus caused a bit of a stir but hopefully it won’t cause any more problems. Please, come in!” The last sentence was spoken in a friendly tone, as she shifted to one side to allow room for the newcomer. “We have been having some fun dying our hair, as you can see. My name is Skvaada, what may I call you?”
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As passengers began disembarking from the train station, a lanky young man leaned against a marble column holding up the thin roof of the station platform. Adrian’s steely, grey eyes scanned the faces of each passerby while his spidery fingers toyed with the zipper of his slightly too large, leather motorcycle jacket. The same eyes lit up with a mischievous glint once he caught sight of his younger brother following the crowd with a group of friends. Calling out a quick greeting, Adrian gave a casual wave and strode towards the young teenagers with a malicious grin plastered across his face, “Sup?”
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There’s always room to improve!
Sign me up, please.I also have no knowledge of the t1-t5 system so I am very curious!
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The sudden appearance of the once again angry lusus startled Skvaada, who glanced towards her new frined anticipating another strife. Luckily once the beast realized Zembra was not in any actual danger, it left. It was nice to see that the shark lusus wasn’t a terrible care-giver and only appeared to come out of concern for its ward.
“Thanks, I am glad that you like it,” The troll visibly tensed up for a moment when Zembra suddenly latched onto her. She would never consider herself to be a cold troll, but hugs were a thing that never usually happened around her, and the sudden gesture of affection threw her for a loop. For instance, what on Alternia was she supposed to do with her hands, when she had a grip which could shatter silverware? Not that the hug didn’t feel nice though. “…” Another loud banging noise resounded off of the walls of the hive. Either the lusus was attacking again or something else was causing the noise.
“Zembra, I think you have a visitor. Want me to go let them in?”
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“WAAH! I don’t wanna stay here forever! Count me in!” The Vibrava responded, her wings flickering back and forth in distress even as she shouldered the leather bag. This was kidnap, plain and simple but there was no way she’d let herself get stuck here just to spite someone. Hopefully learning how to fight and explore wouldn’t be too hard. Who knows, it could even be fun!
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After Skvaada finished letting out slightly undignified yet delighted squeaks at her new hair stripes, she put down the mirror and took the dyes from Zembra’s hand, her face narrowing with concentration as she tried to decide what pattern within her skill level would look the nicest on her new friend. Well, if it didn’t turn out very well then she could hopefully either play it off as ‘going crazy’ or do it over. The land-dweller took a deep breath and then began methodically applying the dyes to her friend’s hair taking extra time and care to make sure she didn’t accidently squirt the dye out too hard or bruise her friend’s head. She stood back to look at the end result with a content smile, feeling a small boost of confidence. For her first time dying hair, it didn’t look too terrible. But of course what mattered was whether Zembra liked it or not.
“Zembra, I have finished. Is the result…satisfactory?”
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A leather bag and a shoddy looking badge plopped down in front of the damsel-fly like Pokémon. “What? A rescue team?” Riley pinned the badge onto the front of her hat and placed the hat back on her head, threading the antennas through small gnawed holes on the side. “Yeah, I’ve got a few objections for ya,” she replied with a more sassy than truly upset tone. “Some of us have been a Pokémon for what, five minutes, and already you’re asking us to fight real Pokémon? Why does Mew even need help, anyway? He’s a legendary, isn’t he?”
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Skvaada’s eyes followed Lupus’ departure without a word of response from the room from behind cracked sunglasses. “I must agree with Lupus, that activity sounds completely inane. I will have no part in it.” So many things could go wrong even with just a simple game of catch, and all of the possibilities kept popping into her head, one after another. Zembra could attack Lupus or herself while they were distracted, fangs ripping at their throats. Or they could be buried alive if a ball accidently hit a critical center of the hive, or worse, an uncontrolled toss from Lupus could become fatal. Equally likely was an uncontrolled toss from her end killing either Lupus or Zembra. For killing a high-blood, the legislacerators would surely sentence her to death by hanging.
The mental image of a scratchy rope tightening around her neck and cutting off her oxygen supply caused the troll to subconsciously rub her neck just to make sure such a thing wasn’t actually happening. Her hand came back damp with the lightly tinted indigo sweat currently pooling in a puddle on the floor of the hive. Skvaada shook her head in an attempt to physically dislodge the morbid thoughts. “Hmnn. Pardon me for a moment,” she said attempting to keep a level tone while she pulled out a HANDKERCHIEF (8) and daintily dabbed at her face, neck and shoulders.
At that moment, the subjuggulator appeared in the door. Skvaada tried to make no noise and fade into the background, a difficult thing to do given her size, so as not to attract attention. Technically she had a few free days before she could continue her work, but the subjuggulators might not know that and assume she was shirking at her job…which she kind of sort of was. Also, it was now clear that she had lied about the subjuggulators all being high today. Of course Lupus had to go aggravate the purple blooded clowns, and now they would likely come back violently. She tried and failed to resist the urge to face-palm.