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·●★ Spotlight Cavalcade ★●·


   In homage to the comic titles of the past.(( As well as my love to create alts.)) I've decided to showcase stories in spirit of the comics of old, like Whiz, comics cavalcade, worlds finest, all-American, house of mystery, etc.

Not to mention its fun to write in downtime at workemoticon
Jun/9/2014, 6:28 am Link to this post Email grimphalanx   PM grimphalanx Blog
 
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Re: ·●★ Spotlight Cavalcade ★●·


·A Star is born·


Devlin Deckers story


"You no good...free-loading....thievin'..."
-
"Now I'm not stealin' what you're givin away?''

Exchanged a pair of lonewolf card players. The accused was nine other than Devlin Decker. A 6 th generation descendant of a Gotham sect of vagabonds. The accuser was none other than Gerald Wagner. A retired cop. (And horrible card player.) Losing took a special talent. One of which was natural to Wagner.

Moments later Devlin retrieved his winnings before leaving the card hall. Wagner had a terrible temper, and his unruly attitude only got worst. Parlaying a beating or homicide, Decker took the high road. Though no proof of the matter. But Devlins odds were golden the past two out of three hands. A point at which naturally provided Gerald Wagner an initial sense of bravado. Which had him go all in on an epic bluff. Having a low pair, but playing it high took a level of theatrics. Decker had 'the prestigex. Or it relatively seemed so?

Winning the games was clean. Sort of...

You see...Decker was blessed with an ability to adjust odds. Though only a little at a time. He was also able to do so, at length of changing subtle nuances, and actions.... In such a way, it seemed impossible. He called it his 'prestige'.
Only thing was, it came with a price. When adjusting...even casually so. He would gain an unavoidable manner of clumsiness. That's why, when trying to exit an unexpected jammed up door...he found himself face to glass. Which in turn bought his hyper-angry opponent opportunity. A chance to get even at the hightailing winner, in full 'peaco ck-gloat' form.

Moments later, Devlin found himself being death gripped choked at the near vacant top level parking garage. By none other than Mr. Gerald Wagner. ( formerly Detective) :

"Gypsies like you shoulda been wiped out a long tima' go, ya know?"

*choke*

"Not...gurgle...unh...gyp....see'' Devlin struggled.

 Stars began flashing at his peripherals. He triggered the mental thought he used as a means to activate his power. A star.
And upon seeing the consciousness warning flashes, in fact triggered the ability. From the man's choking grip, Gerald felt light headed, and a shocking tinge blasted the retired hot head's nervous system like a horrible taser hit. Faling bck in a stroke. Probabilty had been changed again. An odd and rare power. Though with such a power comes great consequence. When one nudges probability, ( even though but a small amount....) said adjuster suffers a retribution. Bad luck, clumsiness...sometimes worst yet? But....fate has its due.

     Though his neck was now sore, he composed himself. The fallen rival lay dormant but alive. Decker checked the man's pulse to ensure he wasn't dead. Dragging him to plain sight, he left him to be helped. Removing the man's cell phone. Devlin dialed 911. Then left it on, in Wagners lap. Tucking in a
 $ 100 bill within Wagners shirt pocket, he felt the winners guilt momentarily. As he walked back to his car, Devlin gracefully tripped and fell. While on the cool concrete, he couldn't help but to laugh at his exacted conclusive folly. As expected per power emission, he felt satisfued yet amused.

"As with every star...a suckers born too."



Last edited by grimphalanx, Jul/4/2014, 6:47 pm
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Re: ·●★ Spotlight Cavalcade ★●·


...a face, that a mother could ...



John Doe's story (Everyman)


   Joshua Stonewall Shepard was a decorated soldier of the Korean war. Heralded and carried over another tour of combat duty during the Viet Nam era. However, none of this fact. Well, a gentleman whom went by such name in fact HAD officially experienced these events. Though, biologically speaking. Joshua S. Shepard died on a dank and dirty battlefield.


In Korea during wartime.
Never seeing Viet Nam.
Never to see his family, or home again. Left on an unmarked enemy territory grave.


However, set into motion was "Protocol Mora". A 'spook-class 'military based organization, of a group called Kryptea. With U.N. ties, that were mostly forbidden trysts. The project was inserting specifically designed soldiers, into military branches secretly. These 'inserts' were genetically crafted superior from test tube to battlefield. They were provided memory, background, and even physicality measures to become a replacement to Dead soldiers.

The Moranian soldier inserted, replaced the fallen one entirely. Genetically engineered. Electropathically realtered, and neurally implanted to BE their hosted persona. Said Mora Soldier knew nothing more than soldiering and sketchy memories of the appointed expired soldiers they were selected to replace.

'Joshua Stonewall Shepard' woke up in the combat infirmary. Dizzy, and nauseas the man sat discontent upon the bedding. Though he felt amazingly energized, he could see remnants of triage surgery. Recovery would be in order but the soldier was compelled to get back to his platoon.
But then...he fought passing back out of consciousness, to no avail.

A commendation service went on around him. Though the General was granted his medals and mention. The soldier sat silently and humble. His subconcious thought was beneath a veil of programming unknown him. But it was reality to the man. He was all the heralded soldier. But the hero worthy these medals, had died long ago. Though 'Shepard' hadn't known it.

Years later. Many more than the man who assumed the life of 'Shepard'should have lived to see sat looking into the mirror before him. Vacancy was all he had. He felt anxiety well over the lack of feature. No eyes...hell, not even sockets upon the crest of his brow?.... Yet he saw? His face had become a blank? How could he be able to see his reflection? ( Or at all, for that matter?) He screamed out in fear, and confused rage. Until passing out.


Awakened. Loss of time. Relevance. Information. All he knew was warfare, ettiquette, and odds and ends memories.
Memories of times, he couldnt fully recall or even understand? He did know duty though. Duty without reason. He knew purpose, yet didn't know his own. The man whom assumed the role as Shepard became a General. A dead man's name. A dead man's lie! A faceless facade. That is....until THEY came to him. THEY gave gim recognizable purpose. THEY provided gim duty, with reason. They gave him a code name. He became John Doe Everyman. A man whom could FEEL. More than any human could. Superior abilities that eyes, ears and faculty standards
 alone were incapable. Everyman was a super soldier. A man without fear. And a man without a face. A man....without identity. But had a purpose. One that an 'EVERY MAN' coukdnt do.


   

Last edited by grimphalanx, Jul/4/2014, 6:50 pm
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Re: ·●★ Spotlight Cavalcade ★●·


¤Kinnara: project:Chimera¤


Shang-Shang's story...


   Chen Lao wasn't her birth name. Though the namesake was companion to what the Bhardodhama had given. The monks cared for the exiled infant. As well as the winds, as they wrote in Zen styling prose. Chen had been gifted from the 9 heavens. Though the Chinese government had statutes and laws in place that forbid the over population within certain provinces and territory sections. ( Particuliarly the ones that had the fewest of proper genetic offering. ) Chen being deemed 'substandard' by such status quo. Had been Saved by the birthing wetnurse. The infant was declared to a Bhardodhammist monk traveler. Chen found secret sanctuary in exile.

   Raised within the quiet residence of the mountainsided monastery. Chen's, light frame due to hollowed pockets within her bonework. A pair of juvenile wings sprouted during pubescent maturity. By her 16th name day, she was able to fly. Her 'defects' were viewed as "gifts from the gods". It was believed her metagenetics were godly imbuing. Even nicknamed "Kinnara" or "Shang-Shang" after the avian creatures of folklore.

   Eventually her meditations took her abroad. Due to frequent territory tax collecting from the governmental sheriffs. And passing travelers, stopping along the way. The monks of peace never turned a soul away. This frightened Shang -Shang's better judgement. Mostly to prevent her presence of bringing harm and hostility to her home amongst the monks. So one night, the wayward orphan now grown made for journey.

    Years later, Chen mostly found flight as her means of travel as well as observation. Only intermingling with people as per necessity. With time, at that point. She utilized the teachings from the Bhardodhammist ways, in philosophy outlook and survival. She had also discovered that her bones were not only less densely amassed snd flexible. But pliably manipulatable too. Causing for the feather stem like protrusions to grow and retract at her willing. ( ie: porcupine like quills to emerge at her skins surface at her descretion. Able to hurled or wielded as bone-like bio-weaponry. Or causing her wings to manifest. Or relent.)

    Nothing stays unscathed forever, however. Her existance discovered and sought after. She managed to avoid mostly every attempt. When she was approached by Agent Everyman. Instead of exploit. She was offered formal military training in espionage, and reconnaissance. Mainly in part to her preferred pact to the Bhardodhammist views on senseless killing. Adhering her wishes, the agency supplied her their offer. Exhibiting potential, she persevered through many quiet dark missions. Providing her agent ranking. Grouped in to a "Prime Team" named "Chimera". Chen met future team members Everyman, Locke, and Census.

   Now dubbed ''Agent 006". Shang-Shang had obtain Advanced Scout/reconnaissance. Since being a United Nations 'dark-op'. Most of her efforts have been locked up in red tape and classified management.

     

Last edited by grimphalanx, Jul/18/2014, 5:17 am
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Re: ·●★ Spotlight Cavalcade ★●·


Gunsteel


an orphan named Locke....

   

Last edited by grimphalanx, Jul/20/2014, 12:46 am
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Re: ·●★ Spotlight Cavalcade ★●·


 
Doctor Hardboiled


GOTHAM GRISTLE


 Cleaning a scene took hard work. When you take on the business of 'Fixing ' other people's mistakes. You're paid well. Xavier Benedict had just been that sort in fact. But the clowns, mess-ups, freaks and gangsters called him Hardboiled. Or Doc. Because, he could calmly walk into a sketchy scene, pull his twin .45 caliber 'hammers' out and level the floor with bloody pulp murder. Then tidy it up, to no evidence or worry. A 'Fixer'. A 'wolf'. He's every man's nobody guy.

   "Eggs" started out as an orphan. Street waif, hustler kid. Got picked on for his name...being cleverly exploitable. As well as a temper that cracked easily and showed. Fighting came naturally to him. Though, he always seemed to float to the top. No matter how much in hot water he got. A natural he was. Eventually picking up odd jobs for any of the 'Big-Wig" gangsters and dealers. Eggs made a name for himself, for doing ANYTHING.No matter the repercussion, or task. Not that he was heartless, or sociopathic. Just because he did what needed doing. And did it well.

   It wasn't long, before one job lead to the next. And he'd get noticed. "Big John" Gianni Caluccio had moved from Keystone to Gotham. In need of a 'Fixer' to conceal a murdered prostitute, whom happened to be male his eldest son had dealings with. Something of which, would soil his name and mob status. So, hiring Eggs was the easiest 'fix' money could buy. Without flaw, or question Xavier performed acutely and hasty. Upon collecting his pay. He found he was double crossed for knowing....too much about the incident. And was tortured horrendously before being gunned 'dead'. Though, his skin flayed and boiled from his body. It triggered the exposure to the Exotica incident previously unknown to him. To Excel his endurance. As well as faculties otherwise. To his dismay, however. Benedict could never full heal properly on the surface. Resulting in a cracked skin appearance.
Such scarring damaged far more than his exterior. The trauma made for an angrier vengeance driven man.

    Alas, he was hidden when discovered by a cocktail waitress and part time escort whom worked at the club for the men that maimed Xavier. Feeling sorry for the man, she dragged him off to a veterinarian friend. Doctor Emil Wyatt dealt in back alley emergency medicine for a ridiculous fee. But this case, was one he'd feel apprehensive to perform. Luckily for Benedict. The doctor and he shared hatred for Collucio. And Wyatt wished retribution on the mobster, for his own personal experiences.

     Vengeance was had. Leaving Big John appropriately paid in full. By the hand of the torturous Doctor Hardboiled. A name that had gotten whispered in fear, amongst the underworld. A name that meant death to those whom opposed him. One of which that hailed a bloody mess of a massacre upon the Collucio crew in Gotham.


      This brought attention to particulars eyes in fact. An organized silent agency working legitimately classified and out from Governmental spotlight. Consisting of both miscreant and dignified women and men. Renegades to the normal brand of justice and authority. A vanguard of Supra Nobel and standout citizend. The Renegade Vanguard.
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Re: ·●★ Spotlight Cavalcade ★●·


          
Never


  

"Thunk bigger damn you!" The shaven man illustrated his statement with over dramatic semantics. Waving his arms out wide and all about.

"James Bond...?I dont know man, i dont tip...ever..."Mused the unamused victim of unwanted questioning before the theatrics.

The bald man stopped, deadpan staring at the other with an astounded apalling.
"James Bo...wait a minute...you don't tip?" Asked the first.

"Nope. Never." The second fellows hair was shaggy long. But still kept. More conservatively dressed than than the first. But fashionably sensible still.

The first man shifted from boot heel to bootheel. The skin tight leather slacks hugged at his cowboy boots. Probably fake gator skin, but possibly authentic.

"Mannnnnn......the UNIVERSE! THAT'S WHO...gratuity is granted by the UNIVERSE, every time one of us LOWLY smudge pigeons discover these casually deceptive but readily available hints in our day to day lives...and that...my friend Tolliver...THAT is a tip that NOTHING can out do. " returning to his theatrical zeal, Gidean finished his Disertation upon their diner table topic. Few remained within the restaurant as the bald man lectured his guest. Rex Tolliver.

"NOT Bond!" He added before Rex could reply.

"Fair enough...but by you saying this, even this shitty green 'Key Lime pie' adds up into the make up of what you're selling me right now? The fact that.....anyone can mess with the fabric of reality. It doesn't take a Sorcerer or super power to do so?" Tolliver reiterated, with absolute pessimistic irritation.

"Precisely...." Gidean nodded beaming a smile, which squinted his pebble dark eyes beneath the sunglasses.

"You are high..." Rex shot back, disillusioned sliding their bill...without tip to the side of the table.

Gidean left 30 percent of the slotted total, over tipping.

"You'll learn my friend....you'll learn.." Gathering his leather jacket, and leading his colleague. Gidean replied to Tolliver.

"For qhat....tipping or your chaos magick?" Tolliver fired seemingly sarcastic. But Gidean answered him without looking to him.

"Both ...."
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Re: ·●★ Spotlight Cavalcade ★●·


Rebellious Standard




Piles of gore laid about in grim arranging. Beyond the haze of viscera, peered a man or creature wearing nothing but blood and bile wrenched from the last most intact cadaver before him. Smearing it into its face, and chest. Entrails trickled from its pawish hands. So enamored it missed the quiet steps of the two approaching men.

Viktor stood rough 5 '10 or so. Long coat, and gruff bearded. Looked all the part strung out and underslept. Beside him, another broken egg. Nearly literally. Xavier held the nickname 'Dr. Hardboiled' for good reasoning. No nonsense, grit and grime and an ever present state of bleeding. An open sore.Literslly. Head to toe, his anatomy had been at open sore staging without protective dermis. So he wore bandaging. It wasn't a "Vigilante" gimmick. It was his hard reality.

The unlikely pair observed the...being...within the travesty. Each in a dead pan silence, they in turn looked to one another. Astonished and surprised.
Viktor knew better. Viktor also knew when he approached lesser planed minions, to not allow them the opportunity to strike first. Xavier Benedict, or Doctor (no PhD nor medical backing) Hardboiled diagnosed such events simply. A pair of twin Beretta from under strap harnessing. Viktors weapons wetent as traditional. Nor crudely factory fashioned. With a glance flash of hand signaling runes being drawn out into the air. He crushed a sprig of garlic in his pocket as informal component spelling dark rite and magick together. A glow of hypnotic and scintillating lights covered Xavier and himself equally. At which point when Xavier began to 'scream' with two fisted 45 calibers. Each otherwise bullet had NOW BEEN enchanted by Viktor's spell. The impromptu blessing was had. The creatures back swelled with enchanted slugs. Throwing it forward and into the ruined gore.

"Filthy bastard, eh?" Viktor mused to Xavier.

Xavier answered in an acheing grunt. Feeling the bandaging seep tugging at each fleshy trench across his detMal frame. Though, the ever present pain hadn't slowed the mystery man down. Aiming uncanny precision, he cut the demonic creature down in a bullet hail. Once the Gunsmoke cleared, Viktor splashed a vial of undetermined liquid over the creature. Xavier, paused and lit a cigarette while still holding both pistols awkwardly.

"The others coming?" Xavier said with a muffle, and exhale.

Viktor gleefully smiling back inspected the corpse.

"I'd say...but we gotta turn this up a bit!" His eyes wide and wily as he struck the Metalic box against his leg. A zippy standard. Ignited.
 The lighter then was tossed at the bullet ridden body. A flame and burning awkward stench rose from the downed demon. And then, The pair walked away with ignorant grace.

"We've got a meeting to attend." Vikkie said. Xavier replied in grunt and nod.
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Re: ·●★ Spotlight Cavalcade ★●·


whenever
Jan/20/2018, 1:26 pm Link to this post Email grimphalanx   PM grimphalanx Blog
 
Supergirly Profile
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Re: ·●★ Spotlight Cavalcade ★●·


I miss the old days, sometimes.

Back when there was no drama, and just friends Role Playing characters they loved.

---

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