Ultraamann

Legend
  • Posts

    387
  • Joined

  1. Smells like cheese. Roquefort that's been left out in the sun for a couple of days. And man, there ain't nothing more villainous than that.
  2. Powerfrost sighed and leaned back in his chair as his office door closed. He pressed a stud on his gauntlet and the door sealed itself, full security measures active. He pressed another stud and his metallic second skin shimmered and flowed smoothly into its receptacles in his shoulder units, gauntlets and belt. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and savored the feel of the air on his skin. He scratched his unshaven cheeks, rubbed his eyes, and combed his hand back through his hair.

    He stared at the stack of dossiers on his desk. He knew them by rote now. Murderer. Murderer. Thief. Murderer. Assassin. Murderer. Terrorist. Murderer. Arsonist. Murderer. He wondered, not for the first time, how he had ended up here. He opened his bottom desk drawer and took out a small Haliburton case. He set it on the desk and opened it. He took out a series of small mechanical parts, power sources, circuitry, tools. He laid them out in precise order on the desk in front of him. This was what he was meant for. This was what he does. He was a Builder, an Engineer, a Maker.

    Doug Matthews glanced over to a small framed picture on the desk, the only personal touch in the spartan office. The picture was old and faded, an image of two boys. One slight and dark haired, the other hulking and blonde. A smile teased at the corner of Powerfrost's lips. Rob before he started to turn gold, before he started to change, hell, before everything changed. Doug had been the golden child, genius, prodigy. The picture was his 12th birthday, just before he'd started at CalTech. Rob started changing after that, becoming a true golden child, starting down the path that would change both their lives. Doug remembered watching his little brother crush a kidnapper's van on national TV, and the furor that resulted from the "great golden man". He'd known then that his life would never again be what it once was.

    He set the dossiers aside. Such potential there. Such wasted lives. Some were simply lost, some misguided, and some deserved far worse than they were getting. Doug sighed deeply as named and faces flashed before his eyes. The worst part was that he found himself liking them, despite what they were. And that was a very dangerous road to start down. He knew what he'd be asked to ask of them, and knew the bloody fates that awaited some of them.

    He stared down at the parts in front of him. He closed his eyes, letting his fingers move over them. If only everything were this easy. If only everything were a simple matter of understanding, building, and fixing. His fingers moved of their own accord, attaching parts to each other in ordered fashion. His thoughts wandered to the data files he'd stolen from the Crey Industries lab he'd been held in those many months ago. There was a pattern there, an answer. He could feel it, could taste it. He let his mind sift through the data as his hands worked on their own. Invoices, requisitions, secret accounts, memos, meetings between Crey, Council, Family, Tsoo. An hour passed, then two.

    His eyes popped open as his fingers snapped the last part into place. He saw it now, saw what was next. He stood up, aiming the Cryo Pistol he'd just built from memory at his desk. A bright flash and a burst of cold, and his desk stood encased in a block of ice. He pressed the stud on his gauntlet again, and felt the familiar chilling embrace of his metallic skin. He powered up his Energy Transfer, drawing all the armor's might into his right gauntlet. He drove it down hard, shattering the frozen desk and dossiers into shards and fragments.

    Powerfrost pressed the comm stud on his gauntlet. "Ms. McGrath, get me Wille zur Macht, Dark Proton, Everydaymouse, and Sharei. Call Gordon Stacy and tell him to be awaiting our arrival. Oh, and get me a new desk too. This one's broken."
  3. Where in Germany? and are you getting transferred to Hill AFB? (i think that's it)
  4. You don't have to post them Mama, just send them my way and Velvet and I can tell them how devastatingly stunning you are...
  5. Tsk tsk XPP, you're losing it a little... lol... You must have missed me before...

    Who I am

    *Sorry, I suck with links, so just scroll down a tad*

    Of course, I've picked up a year since then, my little girl dinged a year a couple days after, and I know who Lil' Mama is... hehehe... and I still don't hold a candle to the U-Wife...
  6. Yes, please. GT's post is the definitive melee guide, invaluable for all newcomers. I hope we get it back.
  7. You know, you could probably make a killing selling that as a strategy guide....
  8. [ QUOTE ]
    note to self: there's a "hole" lot of jg on Champions.

    *grooooooan*

    [/ QUOTE ]

    Okay, you're out of the West Coast Alliance for that.... hehe
  9. [ QUOTE ]
    Oh, man, another West Coaster! Awesome. I feel like I'm playing baseball in the rain sometimes. We should have a West Coast alliance or something.

    [/ QUOTE ]

    I feel you on that one. I hardly ever run into anyone from the West Coast. I'm up for the alliance, anytime. West Coast 4 Life!! Woo hoo!
  10. Cool, I never even noticed this thread before. How fun to get to meet some of the RL people behind Champion's finest.

    As for me, I'm 33, married, with a little girl who's coming up on her first birthday. We live in the Los Angeles area. I have a BA in English, used to teach, used to work as an editor, but gave it all up to be the buyer for a construction company. I'm also an avid comics fan (if you're looking for anything, let me know, I probably have it in my garage), and a huge movie buff.

    And yes, I'm almost as good-looking as U-Man, although neither of us hold a candle to the Ultrawife. Woo hoo!
  11. New Supergroup: U-Man and the Nobodys. You can join if you are either U-Man, or nobody.