maskormenace | Entries tagged with † thaddeus 'rusty' venture

March 2021

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WILL YOU HELP SAVE THE WORLD?

Mask or Menace is a panfandom urban 'superhero' genre DWRP game, where heroes, villains, and everyone in between seek to survive and thrive in a world loosely parallel to our own.

musclemothers

A-hem, if I could have everyone's attention please! I've recently come to note that there's something of a... deficit in the imPort community. Sure, sure, you could try dating outside of our little community, but in light of all of this vandalism nonsense, do you really want to take that risk? After all, you may not figure out their ulterior motives until it's too late! Or they might just be a glory hound. Either/or.

[ Rusty himself has no problems with gloryhounds, but... that's not part of his pitch! ]

Anyhoo! To that end, I've designed an imPort-only dating app, accessible only from our very own communicators to make sure that no looky-loos get onto the system. All you do is upload a couple of the more flattering pictures you can take of yourself - and no dick pics, all you nasty horndogs out there, that'll be deleted automatically; if you like someone, you can do them the dignity of showing off your dick in-person, thank you very much - put up a brief blurb, and voila, love might be right around the corner!

[ He winks. It's not great. ]

And for next week, and next week only, I've made a deal with a few choice date locations as sponsors who will be willing to fund your romantic endeavors - just sign up, and our algorithm will do the rest. All you'll have to do is show up at the right place and time.

Ta-ta!

[ ... ]

Oh, fuck, and it's called imPress. Don't know how I missed that part...

[ ooc : if you want to sign up for randomized dates or if you just want your character to have a dating app on their profile you can use for future hook-ups, please direct your attention to THIS POST! thanks, and have fun! ]

dendarii

[ Miles' video feed opens on him in his office in Nonah, which is ... honestly pretty wrecked. Someone had a fight in here - and maybe threw some people through some walls - and so there's some temporary drywall put up to patch things up for now. He's working on it, okay. And fortunately he's got the money to just pay for it without pestering the city about such things.

But perhaps more noticeable to people who know him is the empty sleeve pinned up on his left side. He sure is missing an arm all of a sudden. Whoops. ]

I have two requests. The first is - well, I find myself in need of an interior decorator, if there are any so inclined.

[ He gestures at the drywall in his office, the wrecked furniture. A good reason to replace it with something nicer. ]

And the second is ... perhaps a bit of a stretch. But are there any out there with skill in producing prosthetics? I'm told I'll regenerate my limb eventually, but I'd rather have something now, if possible.

[ And another gesture, this time to the empty sleeve. ]

I would appreciate anyone who can help on either front. You'll be paid, of course, as I expect either would be a considerable task.

musclemothers

[ This video post is coming to you TUESDAY NIGHT, LIVE... from jail, not long after the Walking Eye invasion has made itself known. Womp womp. Rusty doesn't look entirely different in an orange uniform than he does in his usual hideous speedsuits, but the expression on his face is a sour one, even for him.

In the background, you can hear a robot wailing. It is a constant, static noise that only seems to increase in intensity as the feed goes on. ]

All right. Here's the skinny - these incompetents have decided to arrest me for all of that madness going on outside despite the fact that we're allllll well aware of the fact that there's a bunch of fucking clones running around. Which, for the record, is both an affront to us all and uncreative. They think I'm behind it all, but let me tell you this much: I don't shit where I eat, and I'm your best bet at programming something to stop them.

So, all you little heroes out there, a task for you: hunt down my clone and turn him in so I can get out and start fixing this mess!

[ God, the prison life is not for him. He's too pretty for this. The screaming, belonging to one Helper, begins to get even louder. ]

And for the love of God, someone, anyone come pick up Helper. [ He rubs at his temple. ] I've got a horrible migraine, and he's going to short-circuit any moment now. He's just outside of the jail. You can't miss him. [ Flatly, he adds on: ] He's the screaming robot.

faderbroderson

[The boy who appears on camera could be no more than sixteen, if one were to judge by physical appearance alone. At best, the sober expression and conservative haircut might cautiously elevate him to as old as twenty. It’s the eyes that reveal the lie in that assumption. The eyes and perhaps a quality to his presence, something still and weary and aged that he makes no effort to conceal.]

My name is Godric, and I am newly arrived here.

I do not doubt that many of you have heard every possible question that could be asked in regard to our arrival, so I will be brief.

[A faintly wry expression crosses his face as he says it, as if in apology. But it passes as he pauses for a few heartbeats, unhurried, taking the time to consider his words.]

I am not altogether comfortable being proclaimed a hero, nor am I necessarily comfortable with the hand the military has taken in all this. For those of you who chose to register, if you had doubts, what swayed your opinion? For those of you who chose to abstain, or indeed took any other path, what convinced you it was for the best?

[His eyes wander back to the camera then, his gaze steady, focused wholly at whoever he may be addressing on the other end.]

They say the Porter is sentient, but I wonder over the nature of its intelligence. Do you believe our presence here is as deliberate as they imagine? If so, is it punishment or providence? Or is all this merely chance?

[Another pause and he shifts, eyes going distant and unfocused, considering whether to ask more. Deciding against it, he smiles politely. There’s no real happiness in it.]

Thank you for your time.

jojoceanman

I have a couple questions. You don't need to answer all of them, so long as you have something smart to say about at least one. I won't accept stupid answers.

1. I need a new job. Preferably something I can do at night. Doesn't need to be high paying. Ideas?

2. I'm from the year 1999, and want recommendations on what to read and watch from this new century. Genre doesn't matter.

3. How often do people make use of this network? Every day? Once a week? I'd like to get a sense of how frequently I should look.

[More specifically, he's already decided that he dislikes social media and wants to know how much he can reasonably avoid it.]

affluenza

[Dandy looks very enthusiastic about this whole situation. Both because he got some pretty great powers, and because he got his own TV show.]

Hi everybody! [He waves.] This little device sure is nifty. We don't have anything like it where I'm from.

My name's Dandy Mott, and whoever's in charge of this place clearly recognizes talent because they gave me my own TV show without even making me audition for it or anything. I'll be signing autographs backstage, if you're interested.

Also, just a survey: how many clowns would you put in your ideal TV show? Ten? Twenty? More? I don't want to go overboard.

dioception

[He'll figure out the video thing at some point, and then no doubt he'll make sure everyone sees him more than they are really interested in doing so, but until then, he had some questions that were fairly easy to relay over what was essentially a telephone.]

So, I have never really been to America. [Or this 'pseudo-America', as far as he was concerned. Details. Either way, his British accent should be obvious to about anyone.]

This is all very unfamiliar to me, but I'm not really in the market for a tour or a culture crash course. What I'm most interested in is finding out just where the night life is, because this place... Nonah? Just isn't cutting it.

Frankly, I'm not even sure where to start.

compensates

[ Tyrion tends to prefer voice simply because video at first deeply unnerved him, but even though it has taken him weeks he has finally grown used enough to the devices to be confident in their use, and he has decided therefore to send his own message out. His face, as it appears, is twisted and scarred beneath the explosion of dark beard, at odds with his tousled blond curls — but, truly the best thing about this sort of communication, his height is not apparent. ]

Good evening.

[ A pause as he considers if that was foolish: it may be evening for him now, but might not be when others watch the video ... nevertheless he perseveres. ]

I've been learning a little about the civics of this world. I must say, it makes a great deal more sense to me than simply allowing a man to rule by the mandate of his birth. And yet I cannot help but wonder if this "democratic process" works quite as well in reality as it does on paper. What is to stop one man simply rising through duplicity? By all accounts the position of an imPort Ambassadorship is effectively for life.

[ Not naming any names! Just something to consider!! It's not like there are any elections on right now, he's simply a concerned citizen.

Anyway, he seems to realize he monologued a bit and smiles ruefully. ]

It's very easy to get carried away speaking to these things, isn't it? I will keep my second inquiry brief: were I interested in aquiring the services of someone to safeguard my person or property, where would I best start? I would prefer someone familiar with this world's "technology" as well as skilled in combat.

[ Because he is bad. As demonstrated by the fact that he forgets to turn the video off and there is another five minutes of him quietly reading a book and sipping wine before the message ends. ]

musclemothers

[When the video opens, imPorts get a good sight of the top of Rusty's nose before he begins to jog backwards, revealing that the camera was set far enough away from the building to have it have a pretty damn good view of the place.

The place in question is a warehouse with its icon and the words VENTURE INDUSTRIES emblazoned on the front of the building in stylish, metallic silver letters. To be honest, the outside actually looks pretty damn impressive. He worked hard on the place.

The inside is a different story, but nobody's seeing the inside today, now, are they?]

A-hem! Good afternoon, fellow imPorts, because I have got a very big announcement to make today. I'd like to announce the formal opening of Venture Industries, a new, imPort-run R&D company. This baby right here - [he tilts his head, gesturing towards the building] - is where you'll want to go if you need a superscientist attending to your affairs. While we do a general business here, it would be neglectful of me not to mention my specialties. [Which he pronounces, this time, and this time only as spe-see-al-i-ties, because he's trying to sound fancy.] We specialize in engineering work, weaponry, and, of course, the vast field of, ah... DNA studies.

[Which is a nice way of saying that he used to have a cloning facility in his basement, but shh!]

The point being that although I've already got my hands full with government projects, I'd be more than happy to squeeze some fellow imPorts into my busy schedule. Or if any of you youngsters are looking for a truly exciting place to intern at, you have my number.

That's all. Helper, the fireworks!

[ One, solitary firework explodes over the top of the building. It looks pitiful.]

Helper!

[And then a flamethrower begins to shoot incessantly from the roof. From Helper, really, who's currently standing on the roof.]

Goddamn it, this is why I need an intern, because of your incompete--

[Of course, the feed clicks off before the general public can hear any more of Rusty's verbal flagellation of his poor, confused robot.]

[ OOC: On the off-chance that anyone's interested in the offered internship or work being done, Rusty is currently accepting interns and has government contracts for advanced weaponry with additional interests in biological warfare. Feel free to PM me for further plotting or contact me on plurk at wisdombitch! ]

rathercommon

Hullo, all. So...The days are short, the air is cold (except in Heropa), and all of us are struggling with lingering embarrassment from all those mis-sent texts. So, to give us all a bit of cheer, and in recognition of all the holidays we've constructed to help us deal with winter, I thought we all could give one another a bit of love. So! How does this work, then? Well - 1. Go ahead and post your name in this post. 2. People respond to you with things they like about you, lovely moments you've shared, et cetera. 3. You go out and respond to others with things you like about them. 4. NO BEING AWFUL. Do NOT give backhanded compliments or secretly troll people or things like that. The point of this is to be good to one another. Go be good to one another!

musclemothers

[The scene: a karaoke bar, decked out in holiday lights, a miserable, sticky looking place with miserable, sticky looking waitresses in sexy elf costumes.

The people: one Rusty Venture, currently wearing an ugly Christmas sweater and holding a martini glass that is not, from the looks of it, his first, and one THE MONARCH!!!!, one of the few imPorts whose eyebrows dwarf Rusty’s and wearing… what he’s always wearing, really. Though he has added a festive Santa hat over his crown.

Rusty squints into the camera, takes a hefty gulp of his drink, then says,] Sadie. Sadie, my dear, we are in need of someone to judge a little wager. This imbecile thinks he can outsing me, but we’ll leave it up to a woman of dignity and character to - to judge.

[Yeah, he’s drunk. But so is the Monarch, so at least it's an equal playing field?]

Yeah, like you know anyone of dignity and character, let alone a woman. [ The Monarch rolls his eyes. ] Did you pick a song yet?

Don’t rush genius. I swear, half of these have been done already... [Rusty props the communicator on a nearby table and hops onto the stage with an effeminate sort of flourish, scrolling through the songs available.] There. Twelve Days of Christmas.

[The karaoke midi file begins to play the intro, and so it begins.]

Twelve Days of-- Are you fucking kidding me? Everyone's done-- On the first day of Christmas my arch rival gave to meeee…

You can’t even sing the first line right? [Oh, shit, he missed his cue. Rusty’s voice isn’t pleasant, but he’s hitting the majority of the notes at least.] Oh, shit -- OntheseconddayofChristmas my true love gave to meeeee two turtle doves and a -- okay, see, there are lyrics there. On the screen. Are you illiterate?

[ The Monarch gives up early, talking through most of the next verse. ] Have you ever even done this whole Christmas song shit? Half the point is making it your own!

…And a partridge in a pear treeeeeee.

Come on! All Christmas is is a bunch of traditions stitched together. Why the hell else would people be singing this nonsense? People only want to hear what they’ve already heard before. But I should’ve known that you’d mess this up too. How drunk do I have to --

[oh. He missed a lot. But he’s not going to miss this one. He stretches one arm out like a spindly Liberace as he belts:] FIIIIVE GOLDEN RIIIIIIII--.

[ His arm almost hits the Monarch in the face, so the Monarch's gonna go ahead and just shove him off the stage (while Rusty emits a particularly high pitched screeching sound following a loud thump and a horrified declaration of I’m bleeding!) and the video cuts out as it devolves into the world's scrawniest, shriekiest karaoke bar brawl. ]

[ ooc ; if you need a reference point for these awful voices, you may find the Monarch singing with his wife HERE and Rusty's VA HERE. ]

eatsnutsandkicksbutts

[ Squirrel Girl is giving the camera a friendly, buck-toothed grin and a little wave. There's some kind of muffled commotion coming from behind her, but whatever it is isn't visible in the frame yet. She's in a park, though, that much is obvious. ]

Hi! I'm Squirrel Girl, nice to meet everybody. I have a question for y'all! I ran into a bit of trouble, here: some fire-breathing dingus kinda jumped me in the middle of the park and wouldn't back off, so after a brief (if slightly physical) discussion about anger management skills and not being a total jerk, I'm... well, long story short, does anybody know where I can find the nearest police station in--

[ The commotion intensifies, and SG frowns, glancing over to one side. One of those newbie native supervillains is just visible in the corner of the screen, buried underneath a pile of squirrels. He's trying in vain to shake them off, but it isn't going very well. ]

I'm kind of in the middle of something, dude, can you keep it down? Trying to find out where I can dump your butt.

[ 'Heartburn'! the guy says from underneath the squirrel-pile. 'My name is Heartburn, and I'll make you regret the day you--!'

Heartburn is interrupted by three squirrels piling onto his head, effectively pressing his jaw shut. ]

Ok, first off, I'd rethink naming yourself after indigestion symptoms, and... wait, wait, ohmygosh.

Would you call that... a sick burn?

buttonedup

( It's taken Cassandra a great deal of trial-and-error to be able to use the communicator at all. It sits awkwardly in her hands, as if mocking her ineptitude. The thought of people being able to see her face, from a distance, is frankly unnerving, so she quickly discounts the video option. Writing is bad enough when it's ink on paper, so that leaves her with one option she understands, really: voice communication. There are items in Thedas that have a similar function, Cassandra knows, but usually they're not so... bright. And rectangular.

Now, she knows, she is just procrastinating, and she is not the type of woman who likes to waste time. She flicks the audio function, like she'd been taught, and scowls at the device as if she expects it to stare back. )

I do not like this.

( A moment later, it's as though she's just realised she's already turned pressed the button. )

Oh! It's...on?

( Of course it is. And everyone has heard her confusion. Why did anyone think this form of communication was a good idea again? She does her best to gather both her composure and her thoughts. She starts to talk in a clipped staccato: )

I shall be brief. I am not familiar with this technology. Obviously. I was merely wondering if anyone else here is from a world similar to my own. I would like to hear your experiences, if you would share them.

( And she ends the call there partly because she's not sure what else to say but mostly because she's still not convinced that this actually worked. )

hardedged

[ the network post begins with a disgruntled exhale. great way to start, jones. nice first impression. clearly, this mysterious new arrival is glad to be here. ]

I'll make this quick and painless. The name's Jessica Jones, and I'm looking for answers.

They brand us like cattle. Expect us to play house. Assign crapass jobs.

And of all the places to wage the Cold War 2.0, they pick fucking Florida. [ she scoffs, as if that's somehow the worst offense of all. ] How do we leave this shithole?

[ there's a pointed beat of silence, as she presses her lips together in contemplation. almost as an afterthought, she adds: ]

And where can I get a drink around here? The cheaper, the better.

liverletdie

Imports, let's talk about the future.

[ Well well. There he is. He looks a lot different from the man he's been pretending to be, but it's in small, subtle ways. Head held higher, drink in hand, sunglasses propped on his head, the suit's a little looser, disheveled. In the background, there's the sound of a pout, like someone's disappointed he's not gallivanting around, instead taking time on the network. Instead of a clear liquid, like last time -- it's amber, definitely some kind of whiskey. ]

What do you want out of a future? Prosperity? Peace for imports? The ability to go home? That last one isn't really under any of our control, by the way, no matter what anyone says. How about being treated equally? Wouldn't it be nice if we weren't the exception, but instead a part of the norm? When superpowers become normal, when they're something that can come within, suddenly, it's not about where they come from, what their world is like, or what weird things influenced them -- because we're all human, at the end of the day.

But that doesn't mean that humans can't be the best they can be. [ He sits in his seat, and puts his feet up on the desk, crossed at the ankles. He's obviously not recording from a comm, but an internal camera. ]

And I know, I know -- some people are going around, saying that I'm not "myself", but what they don't understand is that I'm doing exactly what I've always done. You know that? I've been a futurist for as long as I can remember -- even before coming here -- and I've worked to build a future that I can be proud of. You know, when people look back, they're not going to look at the people who never made a difference, those among us who are content to just let things slip by, and make no waves. No, they're going to look to the people who changed the world, and if they didn't make the best one, then legacies are stained.

I don't know about you, but I don't want my legacy to go down with a whimper. I'm going to make the future better, whether you like it or not, and oh -- you can hate me, you can hate what I've done all you want, but...

At the end of the day?

I'm being the best person I can be. And so will everyone else. Things are so much easier, so much better if we don't let ourselves be held back by those issues. When we're held back by control, trying to pretend to be just as stupid as everyone else out there, when we're hiding our powers, our genius, what makes us great? We've done nobody any good. I stopped worrying, and it's been...

[ A pause. He breathes. ]

It's like a whole new world opened up before me. I recommend it, you might even like it.

waywarddreams

[ _{The video begins with a weird vibe to it. Floating betwixt the shadows and the ghostly moonlight flitting through a window there lies a vivid bright V accompanied by green orbs-- as the camera adjusts to the light and auto focuses, the orbs become solid rings and the white light of the moon pick out a helm. More than that, in fact. Though silvery is the outline of the figure, the emerald loops and V are so striking that he knows he should have probably done some kind of video during the day. But he had spent the day planning the video. Nothing was really going according to plan however-- he didn’t mean for his first appearance of himself to be shrouded by dark as a barely visible silhouette of a ominously luminous creature. The preview image on the communicator didn’t show much. There is the softest of sighs that is displaced by a metallic tinge.

The lights were clearly off for a reason.} ]

Ah… greetings. [ _{There is an attempt at a patient tone and a slow nod, visible by the V shape bouncing. His Japanese accent is ridiculously heavy and he tries to at least speak slower than usual so his words don’t roll and merge in the usual way that they do when he speaks in English.} ]

Fellow… heroes? Vigilantes? Villains? One moment I am at the fringes of snowy Nepal and the next moment I am enlisted in a foreign military…? I do not speak harshly but rather, truthfully-- this illusion feels like everyone is a part of a show and we are being given parts to play in some kind of fantasy.

It will become clear upon any physical meeting with me that I am a tool for murder, but I refuse to take part in senseless death. If anyone of government is perhaps watching I wish for them to know this. I may be enlisted as a 'hero' but I have been a hero before and am above senseless violence. A militia that steals its members cannot be so innocent, regardless of the facade you paint your cities with.

What can we gain from being here?

[ _{Friendship wasn’t something that was ever high on any of his lists. There is a long pause of silence where he ponders what he just said, finding it to be depressingly off key when his master’s teachings echo around his head about silver linings and the darkest skies. If he needed to clear his throat to not appear awkward he would, but with the coming of metal vocal chords came the loss of natural human perks like that.} ]

Apologies, [ _{Murmured softly as he turns his helmet a little to look once more directly at the camera.} ] I do not mean any offence; I am merely troubled and I wish to understand more. My name is Genji. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.

[ _{The cyborg places a fist against his other hands open palm and bows to the camera though sitting down. The action is no longer a highlight, it’s visible now as the night rolls on and the moon casts its gaze upon him. Whether he liked it or not, this seemed to be home for now… but every human inch of him already ached to leave.} ]

felinefancy

[When the video turns on, Selina is not looking at the camera. She's looking down at her lap, reading something that is clearly more interesting than the camera pointing at her. She's dressed in normal clothes, aiming to not seem like she's anything special just in case anyone cares or anyone who might recognize the cat suit is around. She's in a very plain room, back to a plain wall so that's all you can see. She's not dumb enough to reveal where she is to a bunch of strangers. She wouldn't even be doing this, recording herself, if she weren't curious about some things]

So, this whole hero thing? It's a joke, right? Because I know I found it pretty hilarious. [She's no hero. And registering for things? No thanks. She's no one's toy and she certainly doesn't take orders from anyone] Superpowers? Government registration? Cute. Never was much of a fan of government organizations, personally. Not that I didn't appreciate the warm welcome.

[She doesn't have time or patience for all this] Hilarious. [She tosses something aside, a folder, with her free hand and finally looks up at the camera] Oh well, no point dwelling. How's everyone enjoying their kidnapping today?

alcheregis

[ As part of her job for the Radio Show "Opinion Noted", Haen is determined to live up to the assigned title of Shock Jock for them. Thus, imPorts can tune in to her weekly segment and listen to her serve up some sass about whatever's going down in the imPort community. Most of her focus are on things that come up in the Majority Reports, but Haen will happily take topics suggested by other imPorts, especially if they're contentious in nature! ]

Hello my dears, welcome to a fresh new edition of Opinions Noted! For those of you who haven't tuned in before, my name is Haen Hithiel and I'll be your host on this fun little trip.

For those of you who like to play in the scrolling ticker sandbox, I do hope you haven't tied any StarkTech stocks to your ankles if you happen to live near water, because it looks like it will be dragging you down, down, down! I mean, what can you really expect from a creator who's all glitz and chrome without a solid framework? I hear that same sort of 'quick flash in the pan' problem tends to plague a certain founder's personal stamina as well, if you know what I mean~

Speaking of those clinging a little too comfortably with the technological side of things, it seems a certain physician needs a mechanical type of stimulation, judging by the cipher play-by-play that's been happening lately. I'm sensing a lucrative opportunity in specialized automatons for those who just can't get their satisfaction elsewhere. Don't worry dear, I'm only judging a little.

I have to say, this heat wave's been good for the beach, but not so great for the beach bodies lately. I know you're all on vacation, but there's no reason to let yourself go. Coming up after the commercial break, I've got a steamy list of the best and worst imPorts this month who've been spotted baring all... or simply being publicly unbearable!

Phone lines are open, don't be shy!

catchacold

I was going to report a crime.

[The voice of Leonard Snart comes on, distinctive as ever. He looks into the camera, apparently leaning against a wall in a dimly lit room with pounding music and some flashing light. In his free hand he holds a beer, on his head he wears a pointy head that says 'Wizzard' on it, which might be familiar to some.]

But I'm not even sure what's going on here.

[That said he turns the camera to show Axel Walker, who - as usual - is a sight to behold.]

Make it rain! Oh yeah baby, just like that -- oh oh you are so fine.

[Axel is throwing what little money he stole because, you know, strip clubs aren't the best place to steal from, right back at the strippers. It's noble, you know. Like Robin Hood. He steals from the ugly old owners and gives to the sexy girls in need. Honestly, it's like charity, he's doing a good thing here. How could anyone want to put an end to this? Sliding some ones into girls' thongs, he turns to Leonard. While he's not entirely sure why he's being filmed, he assumes good reasons? He grins at the camera and tries his best to look cool, his body language changing to a sort of obnoxious swagger.]

Hey, yo, it's the Trickster once again and if you wanna get a little wiggle in your lap, come on down. I'm gonna be throwing singles at these honeys all night. No one is gonna stop me neither.

[He smirks cockily and turns back to the stripper, throwing a load of money at her.

Not to worry, children and concerned citizens, in spite of them obviously being at a strip club, Leonard takes care not to show anything that could entirely rob one's innocence.

He brings the camera back around to his face, just about smiling and clearly more amused than horrified.]

Help? I need a hero.

[ooc: Plotting post can be found here if you want to figure something out, otherwise just go for it. Commenting to each other and threadjacking are both HIGHLY encouraged! Action, voice, video or text, everything goes!]

musclemothers

[Welcome, imPorts, to a face a sight less pretty than the shounen heroes and superheroes you've grown accustomed to. Instead of a bright, youthful face, you get the dour face of a man who has comfortably hit middle age, skin pale, nose hooked, and brows furrowed behind those thick rimmed glasses of his.

He clears his throat. Once he speaks, his voice is predictably nasal, and not at all happy.] All right, so let me get this straight. They drag us in here to be super-heroes - [he uses airquotes for that, as you do] - and they don't even have a proper set of rules?! Look, I'm no stranger to the whole superhero-supervillain, blah blah blah game, but if you don't get held by a set of standards, there's no telling what will happen.

Oh, wait. There is telling what will happen, and I'd tell you, but instead I have a more immediate, pressing complaint. I am a superscientist. And according to this form, I'm supposed to be... a sex therapist? How the hell am I even supposed to begin with what's wrong with--

[Sorry, anyone who wanted to listen to Doc moan and groan any more than he already has, because a bright blue robot enters the frame, crowding Doc half off of his chair, beeping wildly and flailing his limbs, one of them knocking Doc's glasses off.]

Helper, no, Helper, down. You're not helping! No! You don't know anything about sex!

[Helper beeps very insistently. Doc stares at the screen.]

Well, apparently Helper's going to do my job for me. Come say hi if you want sex advice from a robot. [Helper thrusts his arms up in the air and lets out a high-pitched, ebullient series of beeps that could be accurately translated to yay!]

Oh, for the love of -- I wasn't being seriou--

[And the video cuts off there.]

MASK OR MENACE

NETWORK COMMUNITY

Entries tagged with † thaddeus 'rusty' venture | doc

March 2021

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WILL YOU HELP SAVE THE WORLD?

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001: voice

001 | voice

VIDEO

:: [Video] :: ☸ First Light.

one ;; video

sixth helix ♥ RADIO BROADCAST;

- 2° - Steal from the Rich and Give to the Sexy

VIDEO | 01