TeChameleon

Danny stared after the screaming robot for a moment. "I think I broke 'is tiny brain..." he commented after a moment. Then he turned back to Miranda. "So... did y'have anythin' in mind? An', er, what thugs?"

((uh... Bwerp? You apparently missed the part about 'nowhere vital' >.<

*sigh* Oh well.))

Danny felt the incoming mental attack, and grimaced. The world warped and spun, and he barely managed to keep from throwing up; then it passed. An' that'd be th'difficulty wi' squashin' a bloke's brain; if ye dinna jump 'im while 'tis goin' on, it doesnae do anythin' lastin'. He scooped up the arrows he had dropped... remaining crosslegged. He simply spun on his axis and reached down... er... over his head... well, you get the idea.

He nodded affably to Miranda as she came up, giving absolutely no sign that her screaming at him through a megaphone had perturbed him particularly. "'Allo again, Miss Miranda." he said offhandedly, still upside down. "An' what weapons?" he questioned, his hands still full of glowing green arrows. "These? They'rena real. I heard it fro' one o' th'ship's security guards straight. T'isna possible to get a weapon onta th'ship." He offered an upside-down shrug. "Besides, wha'kind'o daft twit'd give some random kid summat nasty like Talsorian arrows? Obviously they canna be real." he finished, every word dripping sarcasm as he slid the arrows out of sight behind his back, where they apparently disappeared into an invisible quiver.

He glanced back at Prodigy. "Is that nae logical?" he questioned, looking at the robot curiously. Then he paused, and gave Miranda a flat (although still inverted) look. "Ye'll have t'excuse me a wee, Miss Miranda. 'Tis nothin' against ye, personal, but I ha' a hard time wi' th'concept tha' a bat-[censored] insane terrorist wi' enough explosives t'put this tub int'orbit strapped t'his chest doesna mean any harm, e'en tho' people keep tellin' me that."

Then he gave her an arch look. "An'... me th'center o' attention? I'm na' th'one screamin' through a megaphone. 'Tis somethin' I learned a while back; if ye dinna interfere wi'em, people dinna much care what ye're doin'. Nobody much ha' paid me any attention since I got in here, aside fro' th'tinman here." A pause. "Oh, an'th'stupid sod pretendin' t'be responsible f'r security who told me t'wasna possible to get a weapon aboard. Daft twit. Is therena anyone who watches th'news anymore? So, what did ye have in mind?" he finished off.

Then he gave Designation: Prodigy a sideways, upside-down glance. "An' kindly stop tryin' t'fry my brain, tinkertoy, afore I take a mind t'return th'favour." he added as an aside, without any particular rancour, but with a warning shimmer of lightning.

Danny didn't bother dropping when the field vanished. As far as he was concerned, gravity was something that happened to other people.

[ QUOTE ]
"Let lethargic demons lie." He said, gesturing at the retreating Dune. "There is no situation unless you make one. Do you understand what I'm trying to say here, boy?"

[/ QUOTE ]
"Aye, 'tis understood perfectly." Danny said levelly, making a casual attempt to jab one of the Talsorian arrows into the bot. Nowhere vital, mind, just someplace difficult, annoying and expensive to repair, and more than a little hard on the waterproofing.

"I just dinna b'lieve ye, y'tin sod." he added, trying to stick another armour-piercing arrow into Designation: Prodigy, with more or less the same aim in mind, being careful to use his precognition to avoid hitting any areas that would cause the robot to explode, or even do much more than briefly inconvenience it... and maybe prevent the godmode-bubbles from working.

"Lethargic or otherwise," he continued, taking a third arrow and trying to jab it into the robot, the talsorian head shedding a faint green glow, "tha' daft bugger wi' th'explosives is about as stable as a house of cards in a hurricane. He c'd decide tha' he's goin't'blow up the ship 'cos he's bored. And, while ye may not need t'breathe, t'would more than inconvenience th'rest of us t'find ourselves under two thousand fathoms o' water."

A fourth arrow was jabbed at the 'bot in the same offhand manner. "Now, d'ye have a bloody good reason why I shouldna turn this tub upside-down t'find th'orange git, or do I just smash y'right here and get t'work?" Danny waved an electrically-glowing finger. "And na' more o'the cryptic rubbish about sleepy demons, neh?" Inwardly he sighed. Well, y'wanted excitement, y'daft fool... still, 'tis a wee more excitin' than watchin' m'toenails grow, stuck on this great barge.

((Correct me if I'm wrong, Spade and Torrent, but aren't you guys in the Casino? If so, then there's a robot with a kid in a bubble talking to some guy at a table in one corner... Danny, Prodigy, and Mr. Dune are all in here as well))

Aha... some things explained, some things cleared up... and one or two things that need to be clarified from my end, I think.

- the 'watermelon' comment about his arm was more in reference to shape than size; mind you, looking at it again, I think that particular critique was wrong (although I think I found the reference pic that gave you the idea when I was poking around for confirmation!)- it's not the shape of the arm that's bothering me, it's the length.

... which brings me back to the length of the neck. I did a quick-and-dirty shifting of the head downwards (just copied the pic temporarily into Paintshop, to see)... and it makes a big difference- a lot of the things that were bugging me cleared up. The neck is out of proportion, I think- I agree that Supes is no bull-necked goon, but by the same token, he's not a swan-necked model, either. Try it for yourself- you may agree, you may not. Dunno.

- The S-Shield; it's not the lack of definition that makes it seem flat; it's the fact that you've drawn it in with nearly straight edges, as if it were on a billboard.

And thanks in turn for the gracious response to my critique... I know I can come across a bit heavy-handed at times, which is why I critique so rarely (well, that and I'm lazy >.&gt. Looking forward to the finished product, in any case

Hmm.

*looks*

Well, first off, I've gotta say, I like the pose- very Superman- and the attention to detail is good. Quite good, in fact.

Which is part of the problem; the individual details are well done... so well done, in fact, that the discrepancies are vastly more jarring than they would be otherwise.

Lemme see if I can break this down... (starting from the bottom, because it's easier).

* The small of his back is too far in- shift it out a little, maybe midway (or a touch further) between the existing line and the bit of crosshatching I'm assuming is his cape? Supes is a big guy, not that skinny.

* The right-hand bit of his abdominal muscles doesn't look quite right (well, left-hand side of the page, his right ). I think (maybe somebody who knows for sure can chime in?) that the abs should be ending sooner- there should be a defining line before they 'wrap' around his body like you have them.

* His arm(s). He looks like somebody hung a small watermelon from a well-muscled shoulder (the shoulders, by the way, are excellent work, although you may want to bump his left shoulder outwards slightly/bulk it up if you follow my advice of shifting the back line out a bit). The... argh, this is where my lack of formal training in anatomy is annoying... tricep, I think? The muscle under the bicep, anyways... flattens out slightly- it's not a rounded bulge like the bicep is. Also, his elbow is... odd. Even on a heavily built guy, the elbow still sticks out a bit, and it's got a visible line- it's not just an indentation.

* The "S" shield is... uhm... flat. It makes him look a bit like his chest has been pushed in a little.

* The neck *might* be a trifle on the long side... looks that way, anyways.

* I'm still trying to pin down what's bothering me about his face; I think it's just the slightest bit too small, making him look a bit alien (... er, you know what I mean). The space between his sideburn (or where it would be, anyhow) and the corner of his eye is too big, leaving a bit of 'dead space' that niggles at the brain and makes his jaw seem too long, even though it isn't. And he's got a huuuuuuuuuge forehead, thanks to the small face. Enlarge the face, but keep the bottom lip where it is.

* A minor nitpick, but maybe fluff the back of his hair out a bit? Right now it looks painted on, it's so close to where his skull would be, roughly (I'm not sure on this one; something about that area is bothering me).

So... once again; good pose, very nice attention to detail, just needs some cleaning up in composition.

Danny watched the 'bot hand an envelope to the man who wasn't there, a pensive frown on his face. The security guard had been disposed of far too neatly for his liking, and the bubble was sticking around for an irritatingly long time. Eventually, he reached back, pulled out a double handful of Talsorian arrows, snapped them on, and jabbed them into the bubble.

These were designed to penetrate forcefields, and, while their individual powersupplies were far smaller and weaker than Prodigy's, there were a lot of them. After all, it wasn't as if Danny was going to run out anytime soon. The little archer ground them into the walls of the bubble, pushing hard with an added boost of electrical power, and waited to see which would burn out first, the massed energy arrowheads or whatever bit of the bot that was generating the field. He didn't even see the brief bout of flashing lights when the fire alarm went off- the inside of the bubble was a riot of sparks and flashes- and the bubble itself cut off any noise.

((Hey Sovs? I'm not sure what even a Type III bulletproof vest would do to stop a Talsorian arrowhead- those green energy blade thingies that the Vanguard use. Danny's standard arrows are Impervium-headed, and his heavier hitters are Talsorian. Plus he's got a few other nifty arrowheads, although they stick to the same functions that an Archery Blaster's attacks have in the game))

Well, back, bored, and equipped with a 'net connection.

Energon X, my other most-RPed character:

Scars are Forever (the same accident that gave him his rather unstable powers blew off the lower half of his face, which he has tried, unsuccesfully, to get healed before), Power Incontinence (Er... not quite the way I'd put it, but if he doesn't periodically discharge energy, he explodes.), Power Glows (yay for auras!), Badass Blink (well, sort of- if he pushes his speed powers too hard, his glowiness overwhelms his cloaking field), Pure Energy (admittedly, that's mostly my laziness in being unwilling to do a ton of research for a game character :/... although it is, in part, a tip of the hat to his origins- note the entry on Energon on that page), High Pressure Emotion (although in his case, it's a bit more literal than the ones on the page- his control is tied directly to his emotional state, and if he gets too excited... well... boom), Author Avatar (actually, both Target Lad and Energon X are based quite heavily on my own personality... E-X as I am now, more or less, although with some obvious differences... and Target Lad as I was as a kid/young teen. Yes, I really was that obnoxious, although I might have been a little lower key about it), and of course Beam Spam (if you've ever fought a blaster... any blaster... you'll have a pretty good idea of why I included that one )

[ QUOTE ]
Danny found himself inside a detention field before he even cleared his seat.

"I, unlike you, have business with these fine upstanding men." Prodigy said to Danny. "Please do not do this. I have no wish to try and convince you using other methods, and furthmore-"

The drone launched into a gigantic, incomprehensible lecture about something or other, completely oblivious to everything happening or that had happened since he had cast the detention field.

[/ QUOTE ]
Unfortunately, the drone's detention field had missed entirely. Danny had taken just enough warning from his precognition that he'd been able to avoid it- it was hardly super reflexes or anything, but he was a little quicker than he would have been otherwise... and it certainly didn't hurt that he was already moving extremely fast when the bubble had been lobbed at him.

He floated to one side, crosslegged, half his attention on the security guard, half on Famine. Then he smirked. "Y'stopped listening five minutes ago, too, didn't ye?" he asked Famine. He glanced over at the guard. "I wasna kidding about th'explosives, by th'way. All ye have to do is ask him t'open his coat... although I wouldna advise tryin' t'force th'issue. I wasna jokin' about the crazed terrorist part neither." Then, ignoring the guard, he turned his attention to Famine.

"If y'don't drop that bomb over th'side, last resort or not, 'm going t'be havin' a wee bittie of a problem with ye." he stated matter-of-factly. "While y'could probably kill me..." the boy paused, and lightning hissed around him more visibly for a second. "Well, maybe... 'tis unlikely to help whatever your mission here is." Danny gave Famine a look. "If'n y're here to'steal, or t'guard, I willna interfere. 'm no' daft enough t'start a super-brawl at sea; i' this tub goes down, we're all dead."

The look hardened. "But if'n ye start hurtin' people..." he pulled an arrow with a strange, blunt head out of nowhere. A brief twist of his wrist, and the Talsorian arrowhead, designed to punch through Rikti Power armour and forcefields alike as though they were made of paper, snapped to life with a *CRACK* and then gave off a steady, hissing drone. "Ye willna be fatherin' children, if ye catch m'meanin'." Bulletproof vests were all-but-useless even against standard arrows, and the Talsorian arrow wouldn't even notice one.

Danny put the arrow away, and floated up slightly, out of easy reach for the guard. In the flashing lights of the casino, one more was unlikely to be noticed, and thus far, he hadn't done anything especially disruptive. "If ye're familiar wi' Vanguard, then you'd be knowin' tha' they dinna be givin' those arrows t'folks who are likely t'miss wi' them. So. Steal, guard, or... trouble?" he inquired.

It was at this point Danny realized that the detention bubble had caught up with him, swallowing the sound of the casino, and he made a face. "O' course." he muttered. "Imagine m'lack of surprise." He floated in the middle of the bubble, watching the drama he had started with a sort of detatched interest, as there was now little he could do to it... or that it could do to him. "Lesse... I think tha' these things only ha' a limited duration, but 'm buggered if I c'n remember what 'tis..." he muttered, thinking hard.

Danny didn't move, simply glancing over at the security guard, although he was sweating perhaps a touch more than even the heat of the tropical day, seeping through the air conditioning of the casino, would account for. A muffled, subdued mumbling, two words repeated over and over, almost a chant, could maybe be heard from behind his hands. "Boredom... sanity... boredom... sanity... boredom... sanity."

Then his head snapped up, and he returned Famine's crazy grin with a bright, happy smile wildly at odds with the slightly crazed look in his eye and snapped "Boredom wins!", leaping across the table in a flat trajectory with his hands trailing blue-white lightning in a coruscating arc of fire, intending to shock the terrorist helpless, at least briefly. As he was about to slap into Famine, he added, loud enough for the guard to hear, although probably not loud enough for it to carry beyond the immediate, mostly-empty vicinity, "An' what're ye're policies regardin' crazy terrorists packin' enough explosives to gut th'ship 'round their bellies?"
((Oh, and don't go underestimating Danny's abilities 'cos he's a kid. He's got a respectable level of firepower for any meta. His self-control and/or forethought, on the other hand...))

Danny glanced back and down at the drone, recognizing it vaguely as a support type that he'd seen once or twice before, although he knew next to nothing about it.

[ QUOTE ]
"Respect your elders and mind your own business." Prodigy said in a monotone. "These gentlemen obviously don't appreciate the subtle joys of your tactful company. Make them happy. Find other muses to entertain your wiles with."

[/ QUOTE ]
"Y'know, thi' is th'second time in ten minute I ha' been told that I dinna respect my elders sufficiently. 'm no' quite sure how to take it comin' from a walkin' tin can, though." he said conversationally. "An', meanin' no disrespect... or a'least no further disrespect, but th'evidence at hand suggests tha' these gentlemen dinna enjoy much o' anythin' at all, much less my company, subtle joy though it may be."

He raised an eyebrow sharply at the results of his quick scanning of the two(?) suited gentlemen, and let his eyes roam around the room. Thanks to the goons, most of those present were giving the table a wide, wary berth, and the constant, jingling white noise of the casino made it all-but-impossible to eavesdrop- the flashing lights and shifting shadows would render even lipreading chancy. He flared his short-term precognition briefly, the air taking a yellow tinge around him, then dropped smoothly onto the table, flipping in midair to land soundlessly on bare feet.

Then he slid cheekily into one of the empty chairs, nodding first to Famine, and then, a little warily, to 'Dune'. "Mister Famine." he said, then tilted his head to one side slightly. "I didna catch your name, sir, but 'tis unlikely that we've met." Then he directed a flat, steady glare at Famine. "I really wish you lot wouldna bring so much kaboom wi' ye when you did things like this..." he muttered, barely audible even to those at the same table over the casino noise. "If ye tear th'ships guts out... like ye're more than a little likely to, if'n ye go off in here... 'tis a very long swim home." He planted his chin in his hands and looked at the two(?) men at the table he now shared, waiting to see what they'd do next. If one looked very carefully, and at just the right time between flashes, one could possibly note tendrils of electricity coursing around his small frame, gathered power ready to be released between one heartbeat and the next.

((a brief explanation if you haven't run across Target Lad in an RP before- he gains a good deal of his pretenatural accuracy from short-term precognition- about ten seconds into the future, and only if he's concentrating. Also, it's mostly limited to LoS. In game-terms, basically Aim, although obviously it's a little more flexible in an RP .))

... dd, if you've managed to lose only four hours to the site, you've got impressive self-control >.>

Well, let's see...

Target Lad: Kid Hero (he is just thirteen, after all), I Just Want to be Normal (he refers to super-activity as 'the stupidity', and heroes as 'the tights and towels brigade'...), Deadpan Snarker (er, see the previous one ), Butt Monkey (well, not to any huge extent, but the universe is out to get him), The Napoleon (although in his case, he just hasn't hit his growth spurt yet... something that causes him considerable annoyance, heh...), the Sidekick (he learned superheroing as his uncle, Energon X', sidekick, although he calls it 'kicking, in a rather futile attempt to make it sound cooler), The Straight and Arrow Path (although just about any archer hero could pull that one)... eh, I'll stop there for now- I'm actually playing Co* right now

[ QUOTE ]
'Mister Dune' looked up at the boy.

"I'd say you're a bit young to be in a casino and eavesdropping on people you don't know, boy."

'Mister Dune's' eyes narrowed, the last word almost a snarl.

'Dune' recognized the boy as a hero. And he had good reason to...

[/ QUOTE ]
Danny gave a sort of horizontal shrug. "'m a bit young f'r a lotta things." he responded blandly, not moving. The two at the centre of the goons didn't look especially familiar, but the one seemed to know him, or at least recognize him.

Danny thought back a little, seeing if he could remember being on the news or anything lately, but... he frowned a bit. Wonder wha' this git knows? he thought. He had checked the stats for these two and their retinue, but hadn't noted anything terribly exciting... he double-checked the data his reticle displayed whenever he happened to glance over a meta.

((... so, what's Danny's magic eyepiece going to say? Anything at all, other than targetting/range data?))

Danny watched Miranda leave, muttering "More powerful than m'pointy sticks. Lordy, what a weapon that must be..." with a cynical twist of his mouth and a roll of his eyes. He glanced around, but the luau seemed to consist largely of eating (he was full, at least for the moment), juggling (boring), dancing (he didn't know how, and there was no-one his age around anyways), and gabbing. He sighed and rose a little higher, gliding out the door, carefully not looking for his younger brothers.

Maybe it's time f'r a wee bit o' snooping... he thought. Whether Mum knows it or not, this ship's crawling with super-types, and there' bound to be something more interesting than shuffleboard going on... He swooped down the hallway, moving quickly and silently, scanning his surroundings.

The flashing lights and noises of the Casino caught his attention, and he swooped noiselessly through the open doorway, hovering near the ceiling. After a quick glance around, he parked himself above the table surrounded by goons in bad suits. What is it about goons tha' makes them constitutionally incapable o' buying suits that fit, anyways? he wondered idly. Laying prone with his head on his arms as he watched with considerable interest at what was going on beneath him, as tight to the ceiling as he could go, and fighting the urge to drop a loogie on the table. Amazing how rarely people look up, even wi' th'number o' supers there are runnin' around these days. he thought.

((Yes, Sovs, there is now a 13-year-old boy hovering above your oh-so-serious-and-secret meeting ))

[ QUOTE ]
“You’re pretty sharp, I’ll give you that,” she started with a sigh, “but socially, you're duller than a fat homebody on prom night. When I was talking about minding your manners and respecting your elders, I was referring to kids (you in particular) who the ‘normal rules of politeness’ don’t apply. You’ll get no respect without earning it with due respect. In other words, if you don’t want people calling you by the title ‘kid’ then call them ma’am or sir.” Her second drink was placed before her and she took a small sip. “…and you call me either Miss or Miranda, if you somehow confused yourself.”

[/ QUOTE ]
Danny offered her another old-fashioned look. "I suppose I shouldna be surprised... 'tis the way of the world, after all... but t'would be nice, once in a while, to talk t'an adult who didna assume that I had to earn politeness, whilst they were entitled to it, simply by virtue of havin' been around longer than me." he commented a bit irritably, carefully avoiding the word 'older'. Then he shrugged again.

"I suppose 'tis a female thing... I ha' th'vague feelin' I should be apologizin' for summat, although th'devil take me if I c'n figure out what." Then he raised an eyebrow. "An' it seems t'me tha' I've been a good bit more polite t'ye than you have been to me. Thus far, y've called me 'little boy', 'socially inept', chastised me for 'wasting' food that ye made me drop on th'floor, criticized me for not callin' ye 'ma'am' when y'implied that t'was no what ye'd prefer t'be called, an' made uncomfortably free wi' y'r powers, while I'm na' guilty o' much more th'n bein' perhaps a bit overly familiar. Oh, an' of course I'm guilty o' bein' young." he finished, making a sour face.

Danny leaned forwards a little, resting his chin on his knuckles and his elbows on his crossed knees and watched her. "An' y'r assumption tha' I want t'pursue th'lass from Arachnos strikes me as... odd. She's enough older'n me that even if I were interested in one o' them crazy Spider-fetishists, she's unlikely to return th'interest. So m'social ineptitude isna much of an issue there." he said, perhaps a little more sharply than he'd intended.

Then he shook his head and curled up a bit, hugging his knees. "I do apologize, I s'ppose, if I ha' interfered wi' your relaxation, Miss Miranda. S'just tha' I find I do'na ha' much in common wi' me so-called 'peers' these days, so I gravitate summat automatically towards th'other metas that are about. A'least there, I've got summat to talk about." he admitted with a flash of vulnerability.

Then the firealarms went off, and the vulnerability vanished, electricity crackling around Danny and his bow appearing in his hand, an arrow knocked and ready as he spun rapidly, gaining altitude as he assessed the situation. Then he blushed a little, dropping back to his former position as he put the bow away and let the electricity fade. "Feh. A little too free wi' th'alarms lately, methinks. Either tha' or th'ship's about t'sink." he muttered darkly.

[ QUOTE ]
Miranda shot Danny a cold glance before rolling her eyes with a smirk. “If you could intentionally do that, why couldn’t you stop a plate from spilling that was right there in your hand?”

[/ QUOTE ]
"Maybe 'cos when I did 'that', y'were no' tryin' t'drop me on m'rump?" he mumbled testily. He snagged the plate after he had finished reading Miranda's rather sparse biographical information and resumed eating- his mum had told him that being this hungry all the time meant that he was hitting his growth spurt, but so far he wasn't seeing it.

[ QUOTE ]
Still with ice cold eyes, she reached up and flicked the air with an index finger which in turn caused a stinging chill on the tip of Danny’s nose. “Shame, you’re always suppose to respect your elders. That means saying yes ma’am and no ma’am. With manners like that, it’s no wonder you don’t get the respect you think you deserve.”

[/ QUOTE ]
Danny paused to rub his nose, nearly taking his eye out with his fork. "Kindly dinna do that." he said coolly, tossing her a brief glare. "Y'may comment on my manners, but I do na' make quite so free wi' my powers." Then he paused for a long moment, giving her an oddly inscrutable look (or as inscrutable as it could be while he was steadily eating, anyways).

Eventually, he shook his head. "Nae." he said at last. "I dinna think I'll be playin' that game." He swallowed and set the now-empty plate aside, and started ticking off on his fingers. "First, y'introduce y'rself by your first name. Then, y'get all huffy when I point out that I am nae makin' reference... at all... to your age... and then y'start sayin' that I sh'd be callin' ye ma'am all th'time. So, if I start callin' y'ma'am, then I get in trouble for implyin' that y're "old", or summat; an' if I don't, then I get in trouble f'r not treatin' my 'elder' wi' respect." He shrugged as expansively as his skinny frame could manage and gave Miranda a flat look. "So, d'ye want to continue th'game, or shall we find a new one? Maybe one that does na' assume that I'm an idiot?" he said bluntly, pointedly looking away.

Then he glanced back. "And I do'na make guesses as t'anybody's age anymore. In thi' goofy world, y'could be an immortal, walkin' th'Earth since prehistory, or y'could be a clone wi' implanted memories tha' was activated five minutes 'afore I got here. So guessin' accordin' t'looks is kinda pointless." he added as an aside.

((... Danny's a fairly sharp kid, but he hasn't necessarily learned when it's wiser to keep his mouth shut ))

[ QUOTE ]
“Maybe that’ll teach you not to eat and fly without a designated pilot.”

[/ QUOTE ]
"Aye, or maybe it will teach me to eat and fly without an interferin' gravity warper around." Danny muttered. He retrieved the plate proferred, tossed his second plate neatly onto Miranda's table, where it slid to a halt near her and a-a-a-aaaalmost slopped all over her, but didn't, and started in on his interrupted meal.

[ QUOTE ]
I’ve been known to be called Crushed Ice by certain organizations but you may call me Miranda…as for what I do, I don’t think that’s any of your business, little boy.”

[/ QUOTE ]
Danny paused from shovelling food into his mouth and raised an eyebrow at Miranda. He swallowed, then commented a bit peevishly "Oh aye, an' y'don't hear me commentin' on your age, now do you?" He gave an irritated shrug and took another bite of roast pineapple. "Why do adults always assume that normal rules of politeness don't apply when they're talkin' t'kids?" Then he grinned, a bit nastily. Clearing his (first) plate, he dug around in his pockets until he found the sturdy targetting reticle he always had with him and slipped it on, to see if he couldn't get a read on the info broadcast by her Hero ID... assuming, of course, that she was a hero- even if she wasn't, the little eye-mounted device could still crack some of the information encrypted on the Arachnos IDs. Danny pointed the monocle at Miranda and began to read.

[ QUOTE ]
i think I was torn internally between the current (although, did they just kill Brian off in the comic?) broad-chested, wide-shouldered Captain, and some internal image of a more acrobatic Captain. But some of the reference pics I found go either way.

[/ QUOTE ]
Oh- the current Captain B is, indeed, a big, buff guy; but he was college-aged when he was wearing his 'classic' costume, and was quite lean (well, for a superhero, anyways)- along similar lines as Spiderman, really. So your 'internal image' was right, heh. One other issue with the outsized shoulder- it looks to me as if it's a bit too far out from his body- if you were to erase the scarf-thingy around that shoulder, I think you'd see what I mean (in fact, looking at it... did you draw his body, then the scarfy-sort-of-thing, then his arm? Because it looks very much like what happens when I draw costume elements before I finish roughing in the body- it's 'off' by almost the exact width of the scarfy-bit >.&gt.

Looking forward to the finished product, at any rate! Keep up the good work.

Briggs! Hah, nope, you're not forgotten. Welcome back- sorry to hear about your Grandpa... hope real life has settled down a little for you

Pity that the old Night at the Roxbur... er, Pocket D thread is so far buried now :/

Danny flailed briefly as his flight powers switched to 'off' for a moment, managing to land his still rather full plate on his head as his legs uncrossed and waved for balance. The plate hung there for a moment like a particularly ugly hat, then slid off to land on the floor with a crash. The young archer blew a stray piece of bacon off his nose and gave Miranda an annoyed look. "Ta much." he commented to the universe at large. "Anybody else, I doubt they could do tha' on purpose... but me... noooo..." his voice trailed off to a peevish mumble, and he rubbed a trickle of grease out of his eyes.

He brushed an errant piece of lettuce off his shoulder and gave Miranda a very old fashioned look for one so young. "Well, I certainly willna be talkin' t'her now." he growled, pointing dramatically. Then he deflated a little. "Eeeeespecially since she just wandered off." he faltered, noticing that Shioh had left the room, cat in tow. "I'm goin' t'go get cleaned up." he mumbled, and floated out, careful not to land his bare feet on the shards of china that had until recently been his plate.

A few minutes later he reappeared, still stubbornly shirtless and clad in the same khaki cargo shorts, his hair damp from the fast shower he'd tossed himself through. Taking up position where he'd been earlier with a fresh plate, he commented to Miranda. "So, when y're not terrorizing children for darin' t'comment on the fact that ye're a wee bit more azure than th'rest of us, what do y'do?" he asked. He wasn't really that terribly interested, but it was at least marginally more entertaining than floating there stuffing himself... and if he couldn't eat in peace, neither could she. "'m Danny, by the way." he added diffidently. "Most o' th'tights n' towels brigade knows me as Target Lad, tho'."

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Looks good, but his eyes seem a litle too low on the face.

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Jugger is (unsurprisingly) right- his eyes are about where his cheekbones should be. The hand holding the sceptre is a little on the big side as well.

That being said, this has definite potential- I always did like Captain Britain's "Classic" costume, and this is looking to be a nice rendition of it, once you tweak it a touch.

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“You know,” she started talking up to Danny, “if you’re interested in her, you should just go up and talk to her.” She was speaking of Danny paying particular attention to the girl from earlier. “Or do you plan to impress her with your superior floating abilities?” The last line she said with a wry smile and took another sip of her drink.

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Danny flashed Miranda a quick, tight grin before returning his stare to where Shioh was going crazy over the placid cat. "Aye, I'm 'interested', although prolly na quite th'way y're thinkin'. She said she's one o' those daft spider-fetishists from th'Rogue Isles, so I'm waitin' t'see who she tries t'kill." he finished with a shrug.

Then he turned his attention to Miranda a little more fully. "An' I'm floating 'cos I maintain maneuverability this way, while bein' comfortable and eating. 'sides, all the good seats were gone." he added, giving her a flat, slightly irritated glare. Bleedin' hell... he thought to himself, I've spent too long at Golden Eagle, I'm turnin' int'another o' th'stupid adrenaline jockeys. Canna be happy unless somethin's explodin'. He made a face and took another big bite of pork steak, still watching Shioh, not really caring if she noticed or not. Then he blinked and looked back at Miranda. "Are y'supposed t'be blue?" he asked, before returning his gaze to Shioh.

((so... is anybody going to interact with Danny? He seems to be one of the few that doesn't have a specific agenda here- he was just along for the cruise... so I can't do much with him until someone actually talks to him/picks a fight with him >.&lt)

Danny floated, crosslegged, in midair next to one of the buffet tables, a loaded plate on his lap and a speculative look on his face. He was keeping a careful eye on the girl who had identified herself as an Arachnos operative, although that was more out of boredom than any real expectation that she'd try anything. It was a little hard to imagine somebody taking over the ship while wearing a bikini, even given some of the not-quite-all-there 'costumes' that certain female super-types wore in Paragon.

He let his eyes wander speculatively across the crowd, secure in the knowledge that, while his floating in midair certainly made him stand out, nobody really took a kid seriously, particularly not one who looked about eleven. It frequently irritated him to be mistaken for even younger than he was, but it came in handy with equal frequency, so he was content to let people underestimate him for however long it took for his growth spurt to get underway.

Danny smirked faintly to himself. Things were looking to be a little more interesting than he'd originally thought. Then again, I shouldna be surprised; th'universe ha' had it in f'r me since th'day I got these stupid powers. he thought sardonically. He half-shrugged one bare shoulder. If his somewhat less-than-subtle display of metahuman-ness didn't shake anything loose here, maybe a little snooping later would turn something up.

Danny blinked as the fight just kind of... fell apart. The snapping electricity continued for a while, then dissipated as he deflated a little. "Ah... right." he mumbled. "Luau, eh? Meh, maybe it'll be a wee bit more interestin' than th'rest o' th'stuff on this great tub." He landed lightly, dropping down next to Nail and giving the gray-suited man a wary look. I dinna like th'looks o' this one... he thought to himself.