Post by Admin on Sept 18, 2021 20:42:16 GMT
These two are science-related
Mac Maine (Molecular Converter) wears a heavy vest over an insulating bodysuit, with a keypad affixed to the surface of the vest. He wears a portable geneator strapped to his back, and when he is ready for action he plugs a cord from the generator into the keypad. The keypad has a green ready light. He also wears a welder’s helmet. He is never sure his equipment is not going to blow up. A nuclear device capable of reducing a person to atoms in seconds was nothing to sneeze at. It makes a whine when running. If it exploded, the blast would be at least a mile wide. Touching the keypad on his chest in a preset numerical code, he heard the generator on his back whine loudly. It’s going to explode, he thought. A set of rings resembling an atom enveloped him in a brief flash. Suddenly, the man sometimes known as the Molecular Converter had wings. He glided through the air with a sigh of relief. Mac glided down to the ground and set foot on Grim Island, dispersing the wings with a single button push and flash of light. He pressed a sequence to send a strange shotgun blast of a dozen morning-star-like projectiles at his foes. He then used the ‘Repeat” key to fire more blasts without rekeying the code. Mac didn’t like the way his generator was whining at him. The last thing he needed was an overheat and an emergency shutdown. Mac fired a carpet of spikes as Number 99 swatted something through a tree. Let them charge across that, he thought as he dialed his morning-star sequence again.
Harvard “Doc” Yale held a book three times the size of a Gideon Bible in his thin hands. He flipped through the yellowed pages with a movement borne of long practice. He pushed his glasses back on his nose as he jammed the book in a pocket of his gray coveralls. He finds answers of all kinds in the book.
These five are magical
Harry Hutchinson, the Black Star, wore a white suit and tie that turned black as soon as he activated his absorbing power. Even Hutchinson’s fair skin and white hair became as black as a walking shadow. He pulled on a white hood and placed a tie clip in the shape of a black star on his tie. Harry is the leader (?) He hates to fly. He absorbs matter like a black hole. The Black Star absorbed anything coming too close to him in flickering strobe.
Hal King apparently has a Hero Dial. Hal King could not quite get over the feeling he got from using his dial to let loose a hero straight out of the pulps or the comic-books into the real world. It was like being two men in the same body. On the one hand, he ordinarily knew nothing of fighting skills. On the other, the hawk-man he had become was slicing and dicing like a musketeer. There is a tingle before the change wears off, and then a delay period before the dial can be used again.
One of the wearers of the original H Dials was Chris King,
Johnny Constantine wears a green vest and short coat. Constantine chant something in some forgotten language. Something with too many eyes and about thirty tentacles exploded in a ball of flame. yellow hair who wore the strange-looking cloak Johnny Constantine wished he had said goodbye to his wife and boy. He wished he had been more of a father than he had been. He wished for lots of things before he finished the closing lines of his spell and turned his regret to a resolve to win at any price.
Concluding the spell, he cut the palm of his hand with a dagger for the blood sacrifice involved.
Roland DiGrasso flexed his hands as he concentrated. Metal formed in small hexagons over his clothes and body. The metal ran up his neck, terminating into a helmet resembling a cat’s head. A steel tail whipped into existence. He flexed his hands again, and blades sprang from his knuckles. The man known as the Stainless Steel Cat relaxed, letting his claws retract. In his armor he acts quite like a big cat, looking for prey to rend and slash, and moving in bounds. The Stainless Steel Cat cut his enemies with a lightning quickness, pouncing, stabbing, or slashing violently, then sizing up his next victim and pouncing again. The Cat sliced his way through the horde with diamond-hard claws, cutting one in half and turning to deal with another one to his right. The surrounding demons then fell on the silent Roland, crumpling and snapping his armor into sections, then breaking his claws. Finally, something stomped down on his helmeted head, crushing the skull underneath.
The creature called Number 99 sat in a heap on a bench as his comrades went through their rituals. Bilious eyes peered from under a pile of moss it used for hair. It moves by shuffling, without legs. It loves to fly. Think the Heap. It can splash falling from great heights, and then reform itself. It can communicate with plants and speak English. Number 99 was defending them with hammering blows from his treelike arms and blunt fists. Suddenly, the strange swamp monster that was normally nine feet tall had grown to thirty feet tall, and every smaller thing within reach died as he charged the monster in the pit. humanoid avalanche swinging with cracking tree trunk fists. Think ‘The Heap’ who can talk and is reasonably friendly. Perhaps a pilot shot down early in the war, and the only thing that can be made out of his rusted dog tags are that he had two 9s in his serial number. Serial numbers were 8 digits long.
The seven had originally assembled to help the Allies during the war. They had been called the Sentinels of Magic by the press, since they could do things that no one had ever accomplished before, and the name had stuck. As the Iron Curtain fell across Europe, they had remained together.
They had also adopted a boy psychic into their ranks, a twelve-year-old orphan with impressive abilities, but Gary the Miracle Boy wasn’t going on this mission. Ice blue eyes. Anger raged through his system as he walked, causing rocks, loose dirt, small objects, and just about anything not nailed down to be thrown at random from his path. even if that meant he would never find out what Valdemir had meant about killing his parents. The people at the orphanage he grew up in had simply told him that his parents had died when he was two years old; he’d never found out more than that, and it looked like now he never would. Gareth Gallowglass
Mac Maine (Molecular Converter) wears a heavy vest over an insulating bodysuit, with a keypad affixed to the surface of the vest. He wears a portable geneator strapped to his back, and when he is ready for action he plugs a cord from the generator into the keypad. The keypad has a green ready light. He also wears a welder’s helmet. He is never sure his equipment is not going to blow up. A nuclear device capable of reducing a person to atoms in seconds was nothing to sneeze at. It makes a whine when running. If it exploded, the blast would be at least a mile wide. Touching the keypad on his chest in a preset numerical code, he heard the generator on his back whine loudly. It’s going to explode, he thought. A set of rings resembling an atom enveloped him in a brief flash. Suddenly, the man sometimes known as the Molecular Converter had wings. He glided through the air with a sigh of relief. Mac glided down to the ground and set foot on Grim Island, dispersing the wings with a single button push and flash of light. He pressed a sequence to send a strange shotgun blast of a dozen morning-star-like projectiles at his foes. He then used the ‘Repeat” key to fire more blasts without rekeying the code. Mac didn’t like the way his generator was whining at him. The last thing he needed was an overheat and an emergency shutdown. Mac fired a carpet of spikes as Number 99 swatted something through a tree. Let them charge across that, he thought as he dialed his morning-star sequence again.
Harvard “Doc” Yale held a book three times the size of a Gideon Bible in his thin hands. He flipped through the yellowed pages with a movement borne of long practice. He pushed his glasses back on his nose as he jammed the book in a pocket of his gray coveralls. He finds answers of all kinds in the book.
These five are magical
Harry Hutchinson, the Black Star, wore a white suit and tie that turned black as soon as he activated his absorbing power. Even Hutchinson’s fair skin and white hair became as black as a walking shadow. He pulled on a white hood and placed a tie clip in the shape of a black star on his tie. Harry is the leader (?) He hates to fly. He absorbs matter like a black hole. The Black Star absorbed anything coming too close to him in flickering strobe.
Hal King apparently has a Hero Dial. Hal King could not quite get over the feeling he got from using his dial to let loose a hero straight out of the pulps or the comic-books into the real world. It was like being two men in the same body. On the one hand, he ordinarily knew nothing of fighting skills. On the other, the hawk-man he had become was slicing and dicing like a musketeer. There is a tingle before the change wears off, and then a delay period before the dial can be used again.
One of the wearers of the original H Dials was Chris King,
Johnny Constantine wears a green vest and short coat. Constantine chant something in some forgotten language. Something with too many eyes and about thirty tentacles exploded in a ball of flame. yellow hair who wore the strange-looking cloak Johnny Constantine wished he had said goodbye to his wife and boy. He wished he had been more of a father than he had been. He wished for lots of things before he finished the closing lines of his spell and turned his regret to a resolve to win at any price.
Concluding the spell, he cut the palm of his hand with a dagger for the blood sacrifice involved.
Roland DiGrasso flexed his hands as he concentrated. Metal formed in small hexagons over his clothes and body. The metal ran up his neck, terminating into a helmet resembling a cat’s head. A steel tail whipped into existence. He flexed his hands again, and blades sprang from his knuckles. The man known as the Stainless Steel Cat relaxed, letting his claws retract. In his armor he acts quite like a big cat, looking for prey to rend and slash, and moving in bounds. The Stainless Steel Cat cut his enemies with a lightning quickness, pouncing, stabbing, or slashing violently, then sizing up his next victim and pouncing again. The Cat sliced his way through the horde with diamond-hard claws, cutting one in half and turning to deal with another one to his right. The surrounding demons then fell on the silent Roland, crumpling and snapping his armor into sections, then breaking his claws. Finally, something stomped down on his helmeted head, crushing the skull underneath.
The creature called Number 99 sat in a heap on a bench as his comrades went through their rituals. Bilious eyes peered from under a pile of moss it used for hair. It moves by shuffling, without legs. It loves to fly. Think the Heap. It can splash falling from great heights, and then reform itself. It can communicate with plants and speak English. Number 99 was defending them with hammering blows from his treelike arms and blunt fists. Suddenly, the strange swamp monster that was normally nine feet tall had grown to thirty feet tall, and every smaller thing within reach died as he charged the monster in the pit. humanoid avalanche swinging with cracking tree trunk fists. Think ‘The Heap’ who can talk and is reasonably friendly. Perhaps a pilot shot down early in the war, and the only thing that can be made out of his rusted dog tags are that he had two 9s in his serial number. Serial numbers were 8 digits long.
The seven had originally assembled to help the Allies during the war. They had been called the Sentinels of Magic by the press, since they could do things that no one had ever accomplished before, and the name had stuck. As the Iron Curtain fell across Europe, they had remained together.
They had also adopted a boy psychic into their ranks, a twelve-year-old orphan with impressive abilities, but Gary the Miracle Boy wasn’t going on this mission. Ice blue eyes. Anger raged through his system as he walked, causing rocks, loose dirt, small objects, and just about anything not nailed down to be thrown at random from his path. even if that meant he would never find out what Valdemir had meant about killing his parents. The people at the orphanage he grew up in had simply told him that his parents had died when he was two years old; he’d never found out more than that, and it looked like now he never would. Gareth Gallowglass