Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Look behind you...
Re: Ultimate One Universe RPG: IC Thread
It was a hot day, like virtually every day. The men patrolled their assigned areas. They inspected their equipment and vehicles. They made sure the desert sands did not damage their weapons. And they prayed.
Then the hellfire descended from the skies.
At least, that’s what they called it in their native language as they shouted out in alarm and warning. They fired their weapons, but to no avail. They fought, but to no avail. The trio of beings that descended upon them seemed unstoppable.
But so were these men. They were on a holy mission, and none would stop their crusade. And if they died defending their cause, then it was a good death.
There were many good deaths that day.
Men fell before a woman with crystal skin as if hit by an unseen force. Others fell to the fists of a large red haired man. No matter how many piled on, they never could seem to take him down.
And while the orange skinned girl in the air did not take any lives, the damage she did to the equipment and weapons with the blasts from her hands was just as devastating.
In short order, the army that had been training to bring down a country were themselves brought down by just three...
I like to do things a certain way. It brings a level of familiarity and comfort. Sets the mind at ease. Gets one ready for the situation, whatever it might be.
That’s why when I wait for my personal jet to be fueled, I like a nice bold wine. White. Bright, but dry. Subtle flavors you have to tease out. Wakes up the senses, so to speak.
On the flight itself, most people assume it would be champagne. But that is gauche. And mundane. Scotch on the rocks is best. Still classy, but it will get you where you’re going on the bad days.
Upon landing, the drink depends on the destination. In Russia, there’s little choice outside of vodka. In France, wine or brandy. On and on.
The Middle East, though, is tricky. The Muslim world frowns quite heavily on imbibing. It makes the long drives through the desert damn near unbearable. Or it would, if bribery wasn’t so effective. One of the few consistencies among humanity: the more you prohibit something, the more people want it. And a case of alcohol will get most everyone to look the other way.
And my host for this trip? Well, don’t let his followers know, but despite his desire to bring death and destruction to the West, he can’t get enough of Kentucky bourbon.
He clinks my glass against mine. “Salut.”
“Salut,” I reply, taking a sip.
“Mmmm. This nectar will be the death of me one day.”
“Probably. Someone will kill you when they find out.”
“Just adds to excitement. Makes life that much more worth living.”
“And helps soften the blow?”
His smile quickly fades. “Indeed.” He takes a much larger drink this time, grimacing at the burn. I just take another sip, letting the hot flavor make it’s way down. “It...I would call it incredible if it had not happened to my men.”
“That’s why I’m here, Emir.”
“You have always been a good friend to me, Vandal.”
“And you’ve always been a good customer. I assume your men have inspected the inventory?”
“The quality of the samples is high, as always. Can you fulfill the quantity I need?”
“I can have most of it here in the normal time. Being a larger than normal request, the rest will take a few extra weeks. But, in light of that, and what you’ve been through, I am cutting my price by a third.”
Emir smiles and salutes me with his glass before draining it. “You are a good man, Vandal Savage.”
“I like to think so.” I reach into the pocket of my shirt. “And, to ensure our friendship continues, I have something for you.” I take out the piece of paper and hand it to him.
“What is this?”
“The name of the group responsible for you attack.” Emir looks at me in surprise. “The one thing about being a capitalist pig, is having unlimited resources.”
Emir opens the paper and reads the name. His eyes grow wide and he throws his glass against the wall in fury. He swears in his own tongue. “They have gone too far. They continue to grow, to assert themselves on us and groups like us. It must stop!”
“Fortunate you have a fresh supply of weapons heading your way.”
“And we will use them...”
I spent centuries roaming the deserts. Despite the beauty they contain, I have had enough sand for even my lifetime. Which is why I always make sure to keep my accommodations in the remote locations as comfortable as possible. Not because I can’t handle it, but because...why should I have to?
I open the flap to my tent, my stronghold against the wind and grit. I take my sunglasses off at the sight before me.
My unexpected visitor turns his body in the chair to better face me, snifter in his hand.
“A good vintage, Vandal. I wasn’t aware there were any ‘32s left.”
“I have a few cases stashed away from my time in the war. It was a favorite of the Jews in my area.” I drop my satchel on the floor and take up the opposite chair. I reach for the bottle and begin to pour.
“What do you wish to talk about, Ras?”
I don't care about your deathmatches. Don't even ask. I'll just report it as spam.
Originally Posted by Green Lantern
90% of people are in love with wiegeabo. The other 10% are liars.