cranebump

Hey, all. Running an @TerroirNoir recommended arc. After scanning the level ranges, I decide to go in with an incarnate, the KR Devil (you may have seen him this week, completely stupiding up a Pos2 via indiscrimminate tab-targeting and peeking too far over the rim during the last barrel fest of the TF). Derrrr…. I’ll try not to spoiler anything particularly wicked. Which I can’t do if I start with what’s public knowledge: First off, great premise. Really great. Second: tag this with SFMA. We want you on OUR team, kemosabe!:-) Again, not spoilering and this is a mini, so general stuff: This is the first part of a series, so you're going to be introduced to an adversary you're sure to meet sometime later in the metaplot. It's fairly easy for an incarnate (most of the time), but there are some sneaky threats in there where, if you don't watch your booty, you'll get curbed-stomped (esp. the finale, where I did - twice). The author has strong scripting skills. It reads like an in-game mish. It also has a variety of threats, so, depending on what AT you take in there, you could find yourself sailing one minute, faceplanting the next. A L50+ is recommended, due to the bosses (and if you're a puny blaster without a maxed out build, you're gonna need some insps and pets here and there). Kudos: Clean. No typos I could see. Nice, clean flow of one mish to the next. Map choices, enemies, and challenges were varied. Really enjoyed the boss fights. Had to drag out my pets for several, which is rare. Finale fight is excellent. I had to incorporate some maneuver and judicious use of Insps. Okay, one spoiler: having Synapse for an ally, you’re not likely to lose him:-) (though somehow I found a way to get him stuck for a hot second. Doesn't bombard with clues (like that butthead @cranebump sometimes does).:-) EXCELLENT use of in-game personalities, both bad guys and allies. I **kinda** wanted an ally in the last boss fight, but I kinda didn't.:-) (does that make sense?) it was RIGHT there on the brink of being overly hard, but, since I handled it (with 2 faceplants in the finale [one because I rezzed too damned close to the boss]), I'd have to say the author does a really good job of making the big challenges actually challenging without being unreasonable. Tweaks and Fixes: Color code your mish titles (set them apart from the mish text). Not sure why the contact name and info are different? If there’s a connection I missed it. M4: Search text is missing from Primal Codex objective (the one that appears on the bar when you click). Extra carriage return in the finale mish success text. (you've got a needless space between paragraphs) The final mish had me bouncing back and forth a bit to find rescues. The map is small and fairly straight, so this isn't a deal-breaker, but forward momentum is always nice. It goes without saying that there's a LOT of psionic threats in this story. I had my hands full at times. Use of customs to add a variety of powersets is a great idea, but you want to be careful of it being a one-trick pony. That said, I'm thinking greater variety comes in when the other chapters are complete. Kyksie might accuse you of having a few too many glowies.:-) It needs timers (KIDDING! [that was for @Zhym):-) Verdict: Play it! I searched the author's sig to see if they'd done anything else, and didn't find anything. So, if this is a first shot at AE, it's exceptionally good. Better than a lot of my early stuff, I must say (not that I'm a pro or anything, but I know my own early-stage suckage). Regardless, it's a strong effort. And, since it's a series, I look forward to seeing it among @TerroirNoir's reviews when he adds it to his list of 3,462 missions.:-) Nice work!

My blaster has slows, blinds, stuns, knockdown and holds. Granted not on the order of specialists, but this idea that all a blaster does is damage seems ludicrous. The very type of damage a blaster does often inflicts conditions in its own.

I am a big fan of cones. But they always seem to overload them when they give you that third scoop of ice cream 🙂

Haven’t you heard? Nobody needs to write anything anymore. Chat GPT is going to do it all for us. Thank God. We’ve been actively wasting all these brain cells when we could be going to the Feelies.

Year 1, Day Pop Tart (x2.7) Devil Bat Gets Viggy wid it (again) This episode, we go trom Atlas Park to right up your street! ("street" in no way being a metaphor for an orifice, or band of pirates, or stuff like that, but rather a way to colorfully present...I forgot what I was going to say...) It’s Vigilante (or Hero) time again. Why? Why not? (have we EVER had a reason for anything we've done, thus far?). But, no. We really should have some sort of rationale (if not rations, the K type [blech!]). So, if we must, then this: See? I can get El RICH! (I think…) But URG! My choices! Destruction of people and property? Or extreme happiness in pursuit of self-satisfaction? Damn you, you Sophie’s Choice of Missions! Much as I want to slap Desdemona's a** (er…metaphorically…), I feel I can’t let her blow stuff up and hurt innocents (and Hellions. They're misunderstood). So…. HERO TIME IT IS! (now with EX-TRA FLEX-A!): Hitch a ride, there, brutha? No? (sigh) OFF TO TALOS! (sigh) A whole BUNCH of Talos… Hey, truckster! Catch a…ride? Hmmmm….(sniffs armpits, checks breath) Guess he don’t like mint & lilac (in that order). FYI: Talos is not exactly a walk in the park for me yet. (pst) Dude in the green shirt…What’s your secret, man? I can't even get close to these guys, and you're all, "Don't mind me. I'm wearing khakis." I arrive on Gdisitfar Island. Dangerous place. I better be REALLY careful, ‘cause this far flung patch of cliffs and demon worshippers doesn’t have a random phone booth. I take an arrow right in the patootie, just for passing by! (that was mean, bro...real mean...) Once inside something like looks like an Oran (Oren?) Burger hideout, I am greeted by chanting. After confirming it is most definitely not Doo-Wah-Diddy-Diddy-Dum-Diddy-Dumber, I gird my flank steak to take on the Circle of Shizz (time to get MEZZED! Or FLOPPED! Or [insert some other annoying things these morons do]). But I’m ready this time! First we start with the ol’ shimmy shake: There she was. Just-a walkin’ down the street, singin’- -doo wah diddy, I am kickin’ your a**. (ow…arrows…pointy…ow…) And the hits keep on rollin’: Ah’m a SOULLLL (less) MAGE! (Dah-dah-dah, da-dat-da-dahhhhhh) Of course, THEN I get cocky. And we all know what THAT means: Gdit, Leroy… My new Cosi Fan Tutti power may help with the mezzes and stuff, but all that dark spirit world angel dust is a real bear (a big one...like the one that got Grizzly Man [hmmm...STILL too soon?]. And it's especially a bear when you don’t turn all your toggles on. Or open your Temp Powers tab. Or play like a dumbass. So. Round 2: Yeah, we might wanna try the OTHER tunnel… Fine, then! Round 3: Try THIS on for size, you Spectral Suckahs! (sigh)... Round 4: It's not cheating if I really, really, enjoy it. Needless to say, things go (a bit) better after that: I even drag out Ol’ Betsy for the Coup de Gras: This…is my BOOMSTICK! In the end, the people are saved from almost certain temptation (er, destruction, I mean). But me? I need some a** salve. So, after our jaunt with Des’s destructive potentiality, I figure it’s time to slip back into the regular togs and visit the base, where, once again, @Etchedhas some surprises in store. Namely, I have a GD APARTMENT! See that? That’s MY entryway, beyotches! YEAHHHH, MUTHAF…er…{ahem} I mean Welcome to DB Abbey. You may use the front entrance. So, There’s a LOT of cool stuff to see. I mean it! LOTS. But before all that… I’ve finally found you, kemosabe… Ahhhhh…been holding that for 24 levels… Okay, so LOTS of touches. I’ll highlight but a few, the ones that are truly “Batty.” Like here: Plain ol’ office? Sure. But, of course, DB keeps a pair of binoculars handy (and a bottle of Jack, because, when you're window peeping from a distance, the less perspective on your actions, the better). Plus that fanboy poster! (sh…don’t tell anybody, but I think Manticore’s dreamy…that ain’t him? Okay, then THAT guy’s dreamy…somebody is…). Think that’s kitschy? Not even close! Check out how I clip coupons: Precision, ladies and gentlemen. Precision… This is one of my favorites: I can mix some guacamole in the mortar bowl while I tend to my server/stereo (as if I know where all these wires go). On the macro front, we got some nice, ocean front property we stole from the Council (no one bothered us about it, because who cares if Nazis fall prey to random eminent domain?). Which is cool, because no Casa Grande is complete without some views: Yes! Views, baby!. Especially the view of THIS prominent landmark: Man, if nothing else illustrates what goes on in my head, this certainly does.:-) Yup…Really nice views of- WHAT THE-! HOLY F*****’ HELL! HELLLLLLLLLLP! I need a plan! I know! I’ll enlist the aid of my trusty sidekick, Ralph: That’s it boy! Sit up! Beg! Roll over!...GOOD JOB! (you have lots of teeth, Ralph. LOTS of teeth…I love you?) Okay, Ralph is damn busy with those fleas (though I'm not sure why so many nest in his nether region, and why he has to chew around there so much). C'est la Testicules. I'll have to come up with something else to deal with my Ritkto neighbors. Firepower. I need some firepower. But I don’t want to have to buy 65 steaks at Daddy Yin's Bizarre Bazaar just to get the free rocket launcher. Hmmmm… I wonder if Bob managed to sneak in some heavy equipment? I’d call that a ‘yes.’ So, we leave it there, for now, with the Bat experiencing decision paralysis because he has 57 ways to blow sh*t up. Of course there’s always THIS reliable option: For the last time, John, I am NOT throwing 16 pizzas at the Rikti! The "Flying Sausage Fest" maneuver just does not work! Peace out, peoples. And thanks again to @Etched (and his toon, Builder Bob) for sprucing up the Bat Digs. We'll try to prove worthy of the effort (with "try" being the operative word). Til next time, STAY BATTY!

You are not alone in your disdain. But I’m not surprised. We’ve been slowly replacing ourselves with machines for decades. By the time this is perfected, maybe we won’t be needed at all. But I must take solace in the fact that I probably won’t be around to see Skynet finally take over.

LOVE seeing Noble Savage.:-)

Wellllll….there’s only ONE arc left in Mobius.:-D

Year 1, Day Regis Philbin (who knows HOW old that f*****r was, right). Devil Bat and the Hand of IRON To recap: Now that Andrew Fiore has offered us VIP access to the entire CostCo inventory, he has a pair of disparate stories for us: The Chameleon Suit and the Hand of Iron. I know which one I’m going with… Hand of iron baby! (hmmm…why didn’t that call down a lightning bolt?...oh, well…) Our first mish is difficult. I am required to move with a PURPOSE! …I hate having a purpose… So, it’s a half-mile here, a half-milre there, here a half, there a half, etc., with my usual means of locomotion: I’m RUN-NING, Jenn-ay! Along the way, I find a location that shares its name with my bedroom: As in “givin’ perps the SPANK DOWN!” (don’t know what YOU thought) So we go here and there, and everything’s pretty cool. THEN they send me to the last phone box, which is right HERE: Seriously…Who they gonna call? “Hey, Baron Zoria. What was that last incantation again? Thanks, bro. After I smack some CoT and free poor Jill from the Green Orb of Death, I get word that Detective Rondel Jackson, our man undercover in the Freakshow, may be in trouble. Oh, my! I guess I should get right over there and… …beat up…other guys not…even close to him…(sigh) After a nice long swim across the Engrish Channel (which is the English Channel, but using a bad google translator), I trundle around Talos, having one of those senior moments where I suddenly forget where the hell things are in this zone. Eventually, I locate some suitable prospects, get my booty Boardwalked by a purple Hewer who decided to stop by, then head back out for Green pastures (as in everything Green or below, and carry a lotta Greens in case Hugh Errrrrr stops in again). NATURALLY, I find large groups of yellows. Noooo problem, After getting Juiced by one gang (I assume the juice is that “super Coke” I drank in a previous mission), I finally say to myself, “Self - where would YOU be if you were a Freak?” Why, practicing with my garage band, of course? Done, and done.For my pains I get: Hmmm…Milk, Taters, 3-in-1 oil…that’s some weird names, man. Since I can’t make sense of this, I take the dang thing to Detective Jackson (OOOOH! I am fo’ REEEEEL!). Before that, a stop by the base, where I find Builder Bob (aka @Etched) has my dank a** covered: I’m not worthy! We collect a little rent from (dis)Able Cain: More bone dust…hooookay… Base porter puts me right next to RJ, who’s happy to receive the list (but doesn’t explain why the Freaks need 300 heads of cabbage and 1 industrial spool of 18-gauge copper wire). By the way, THIS is our inside man>: Man…you look FREAKY! Sooo…plain… Flush with pseudo success, I call up Andy Fiore.Surely, I’ve now proven that I can handle the TOUGH ONES< right? RIGHT? But…no…”Talk to the guy you’re standing next to.”...okay…I…got this… Doh! Our inside man IS “Hand of Iron.” Not Plain Ron. (reading is fundamental - it ruins the surprise) I have to go get him in Booms, Jackson sez. Of course, I’M “Hand of Iron,” too, right? What if I get confused? After being informed that confusion is my natural state, I take off, reassured I can do no further harm to kith, kin, and…pumpkin (I suppose). I head back to base, wondering if Builder Bob has the hook up for me, since hoofing it is wearing out my “Bat Cycle” (aka, the soles of my shoes). After a quick round of Kashmir backwards, I am in the zone. Dat’s a big zone, man. We hover for a moment, just taking in the natural beauty of this place: …yuck… After a leisurely flight (with my eyes closed, to avoid the yuck), I find da door. Time to beat up on a boss and some cronies. A welcoming committee…joy… Further in: Even MORE joy… The usual Freak shenanigans (I’m dead! Psyche! I’m up!), and a burst of confidence when Jump Kick actually crits (for 92 damage! YAY!...oh…not much is it?), I make my way to the intersection of a 4-way, where I discover that KB empowerment I took: …it sorta works… Meandering and pummeling. The place is big. And stinky. I think about changing into my white togs, just to defy the turd-smell. Before I can, though, I locate someone who looks suspiciously like a boss. Why? He’s got a great “Freezeek.” Heh-heh…(ahem) Freezeek’s villainous monologuing sounds a bit come-hither: But it ends up like all my dates - with someone writhing on the floor in shame, and looking like this: Stay for breakfast? After Big Chief (a**) Swiper goes down, we level up. Back to IP to see Rondel “All’s Not Well” Son of Jackie. We hit the base (thanks to that TP straight to base thing we got from standing next to the 50,000 volt electrified column in KR (don’t worry - it’s DC - you won’t stick). After determining that Disabled Cain is not a hero trainer, I decide to hit Ronnie up before levelling up. Seems “Iron Hand” is in trouble in AP. FINALLY, I’m off to meet my namesake- after stopping by Ms. Lib and complimenting her on that sword she never uses. Lo and behold: one of my powers lets me jump HIGHER! FASTER! SPRINGIER! SPONGIER! (but not too springy, bc Super Jump is scary). I didn’t realize that. Who cares if it’s just a temporary effect. This bum be jumpin’! (imperceptibly higher). Things are looking up. I get to fight pseudo-Nazis! Weak pseudo Nazis… Fist > than foot, bro. This time anyway. I find my guy WAY in the back, and lo and behold: Wt-haydee ho? You’re a traitor! BASTARD! Now you’ve got me: Seeing RED! Feel my vigilante edge, homeslice! I warned you, bronnaise... A few more P-Nazi’s waltz in. We give ‘em the heave-ho. Then. we’re done! I’m still breathing red steam when I contact my buddy Rondel. And Holey Moley! There’s a Costco VIP room! SLAMMIN’! But more importantly: I get a special pair of Ray Bans, and a slew of delicious MERITS! I am one wascawwy Bat.

I understand. But there really isn’t any way to make statements actual death actually means something in the law as it is. You can provide a better explanation of how it happened, as Darmian does, But he’s still i unceremoniously dead and really it feels like for absolutely nothing. wasn’t even a fight. That is what my ire is directed at by the way. The way statesman died, and the lame ass adversary they chose to do it. Sorry about the typos. I’m dictating this by voice in my car.

Which is pretty much what it was, right? Personality conflicts among devs, I've read, leading to f*** your characters. We'll just kill them. Lame. Just lame. Your idea is logical and works as a solid explanation for what happened. But it's still Darrin F'in Wade (catspaw or not). And there isn't enough lipstick in the world to completely spruce up that pig.:-)

Cake rooms in cave maps, and Crey Labs where you have multiple vators on one floor and you have to backtrack.

Year 1, Day Sasquatch. Devil Bat gets Freaky (yet somehow remains FULLY CLOTHED) Today we drop in our buddy Andrew Fiore in Talos (like, literally) [as in it really happened, rather than that stupid intensifier teenagers say when they mean "really," or "very," or "I don't have anything that fits what I'm saying, so I'm gonna say "literally" because all my friends do, and THEY know proper English usage] {shut up, Crane. YOU chose to become a teacher....like, you literally did, man.} I am (literally NOT) the DUSK!...Hi, lamppost. Drew is pretty straightforward: Very well, then. FOR LOCKHART! (who's Lockhart?) Oh...THAT Lockhart...Okey doke! Off to Steel Canyon we go. Which, as always, begins with TRAM ROULETTE Here we go, round and round...annnnd: ...yep...every gd'ed time... Switch trains, then take my version of the friendly skies: Man, I LOVE Skyway Ci...er, this place...which is not even remotely the same. Even though I can never tell them apart when I'm doing Synapse, and I end up in one when I need the other (and all because I didn't pay ANY attention to Levar Burton back in the day). Finally there, and in we go! Can't WAIT to for a straight-up fight. Just armored dudes and guys that hit you. None of that stupid-a** mezzing, or end-draining, or... Oh, yeah...stunners...okay. So, if I wanna avoid all that, I better scan this place for those weapons! I'll make use of some handy-dandy SUPER TECH to get the job done! Hmmm...nothing here, and this place is HUGE! Okay, so maybe magnifying the "looks suspiciously like a Yin TF map" was a bad idea. When I drop the BIN-465-Vision Enhancement Device, I see we got a pair of racks. After a brief bout of disappointment that these have nothing to do with the Rockettes, I confiscate the booty and move on. By the way, first combat? Yeah...it's a thing. And so is my "Hokey-Pockey" step: That's enough of the sledge, brutha. 'Preciate cha. Looks like my arrival is fortuitous: Indeed. Exotic. Explains all the feathers and dimples on them. (is that crotchless underwear I see?) Okay, we're putting a STOP to all this. RIGHT NOW! Nobody puts Batty in a corner! So, Freaks. Not only do they heal and sometimes get back up after a hard tickle. But they also take lessons from the Tsoo: (sigh) Why so many, bro? Tired just lookin' at'cha. Okay, front seat of the car is clear. I'll just stealth on over... and... ...or maybe not Ugh...mez balls. I miss my Tsoo brothers. Of course, we all know that the electricity, and getting back up, and the buzzsaws and stuff is not the REAL reason why Freaks suck. Not at all. It's THIS: Teh Pone Noorzl? The Pawn Oryol? Tepid Winnow Norzel? Fo'...shizzle? Well, this just CANNOT STAND! Tk htah ouy fuawl bda yug! (damn, now, I'M doing it, but WORSE!) So I take out Douche Nozzle, or Pan Fry, or whatever his name is, then hit up my bud, AF. GOOD NEWS! I not only stop the threat, but: My COSTCO application is approved! Time to buy yam cans by the dozen! Now we go into full-on story arc mode (which, at first makes me giddy, because I think it's named after ME): Hell, yeah, m**********r! I- Ohhh...bummer. We head for the base, where our keenly placed network of dark tunnels will take us to Atlas for the next foray. However, once there, I run into a conundrum. Hmmmm...my vigilante training says not to leave the air compressor unguarded. What to do, what to do? Let's get scientific! Okay, so paper covers...um, nothing. Guess I can head out? ASIDE: In case, you hadn't noticed, ol' DB here has remarked before about what's behind this infernal, eternal, UNENDING crime wave we have in PC. Well, once again, his wisdom holds true: The demise of Radio Shack. (these guys have NOWHERE else to go for this sh*t) Is what it is, man. I’ll deal with it. Either way, I'm feeling a bit thirsty. As luck would have it, I find this just inside the mission entrance: (yeah, that's a perfectly good water dispenser there, but do I carry a paper cup? No. No room, what with my pool cue and protest signs). Now 78.9% hydrated, I head in, and: Whoa...what was in that coke I just drank? Better check the equipment. Maybe it's all hyped up, too. Okay. Looks like we're all good here. (sigh) On the positive side, the Freaks seem more advanced in their bon mots: A pop culture reference! Bravo! Here. Have one of these super cokes. After I smash that Freak (while yelling POOR GOOSE!), I run into a bit of trouble. No, not the freakie deakies, but THESE guys: Seriously, Mike & Ike. I know you're just trying to help by pushing me out the way, but this is really cramping my style. (I call this move “drunken cheetah diving in empty pool at frat party”). Nevertheless, we continue our adventure in The Land of 4,000 crates: Make that 4,001: EVENTUALLY, after dodging all the pedestrians and such, I Bat-Smack the last of the Freekz and hit up 'Drew. Whoa...hmmm...they both sound so appetizing. And so, with DB contemplating his options: Personally, I think I can lift them BOTH. ...we fade out on this installment. But, we'll be back! And BATTIER THAN EVAR! Because guess what? I got an edge, this time: I AM SO SMART! Peace out! (for now) Do I smell something burning...? NOTE: I'm not sure why, but evidently I doubled up on the pics. And since deleting them means I might lose the originals, everyone gets extra beauty shots from the bygone days of this post (remember? from 6 minutes ago? I evidently don't so...here we are).

Year 1, Day 46 (minus like, 32) Loomey Toon (the CONCLUSION!) After the exalted ejaculation…er, exalted EXCLAMATION, I mean…Anyway, after my jumping for joy over the elite base makeover I realize I still need to finish Amanda “I’m agog over metaphors” Loomis’s arc. All that’s left - beat up people (so, standard operating procedure, natch). Couple o’ places in Talos, at OPPOSITE ends ot the zone, I might add. Along with a great cardio, I lift some Tsoo-per heavy weights: My favorite part of the wash? The “spin” cycle! Get it! Har,har har… Along the way, I get recognized in a somewhat dubious manner: I’m just surprised it took this long to recognize it. My a** sure knew about it, ages ago. Bosses and their thugs. Plus hostages at site #2, where we find these bros: Ruined everything? Yeah, that’s kinda my middle name. Ask my relatives about last Easter. NOTE: The Tsoo guy behind our man Harry Fleas is named Teal Death. I don’t know much, but I do know this - there’s no surer way to drain the intimidation right out of a name than by adding “teal” to it. Lots of smacking and some mez reception, but I am successful. I return to Loomie and: Well…we Tshowed YOU, dint we? Evidently, she agrees: Geddaway frum mai POIL! Time to stock up on tasers and such. My revolver (whom I have just christened ‘Elmer’) is in need of bullets. Hopefully, I won’t go back to blanks, as before. Just for grins, we case the base again. Some neat touches here, like this one: My TP’s are these dark passageways. Perfect for my BAT CYCLE (I DO have one! I DO!) Pass through what looks like a sewer pipe, and I’m taken into the bowels of the edifice, which is all grungy and evocative, just like we dig: In the bowels of my lair, I find out the source of my income. The SECRET LAUNDROMAT (washeteria, for you southerners). Okay, so how do we…press…button…Really? It’s GOT to be more complicated than that. I also have a tenant who’s WAY behind on the rent: Um…thanks for the bone dust…friend… We also got space in the main chamber to take a load off, and listen to Revolver-backwards: It’s like they’re talking to me, man. ME. (pst-the Walrus was Paul) Restocked. Got some plain ol’ grenades, because sending things flying is a “blast.” (bwahahahahaha…{ahem}). With Loomis done, I contact Andrew Fiore. Freaks off their leash. Looks like I’m called to duty. But then there’s this, too: Hmmmm…Who we gonna call? Head BUSTERS! (now in RED!) In we go, and here we are, making new friends: Hoo boy… New friends? Maybe. But they may as well be old dogs, based on this nugget: Yeah, yeah. If it wasn’t for you meddling kids, and…Mangle? He wouldn’t happen to be TEAL Mangle, would he? He’s definitely not Teal. But, why do his minions need guns? My God, you’re naked! I SURRENDER! As we make our veggie way, we find some things just don’t change: Electric…Nyquil…must…zzzzz…. The last of the pretty boxes is guarded by another (non-teal) Death Shaman. We have a bit of a “discussion.” Must you ALL be so orange? Bit o’smack and crash, and… You’re free shiny box. FREE! (um…did you say Tesseract?) When all’s said and done, we can see that, in the battle for DB’s soul, the Emperor is winning: Well…the Xmas gifts DID say I was naughty, right? Thus ends our adventuring day. Time to go relax and watch some action-packed viewing on the big screen. (Can you BELIEVE they killed off Matthew? And after he SAVED Downton Abbey? [sniff]). Happy Trails, Crane

Year 1, Day Quiddly Quatch Loomie Tunes (aka Tsooner or Later) His name is Pavel Garnier. And: Good. Hit me, homeslice. Metaphors and slug-bugs. I dig it. Like a…thing that…likes other things…(so maybe it’s similes I like) This can only mean one thing: I heed the call, oh, brokedown stoney man. Loomie Tunes can be found in IP. No problem: Man…you think they’d label these things. As you’ve noticed, his batness is in blue again. That’s because I have red in my ledger. I have to figure out if I’m gonna be Charlie Hero or Charlie Horse. Er, that is, Charlie Vig. I still ain’t sure. For now? Let’s do some heroin’ in a new zone. I quickly hop on the train! The wrong train…(sigh) hookay… This takes us to: Que? Quack? What’s a quay? Must I know? Do I care? Maybe. But once I meet Loomis All you need is a loooooooong JACKET! After making a note to ask about bow ties AND jackets, Mandy comes and she gives without taking: You can’t count on me, madam. Unlike Barry Manilow, I won’t send you away. What’s that? Shut the hell up? You got it! So, after the long haul to IP, Loomis sends me to AP. That’s okay. Long as there’s some pee there. Or rather P…Not Master P…the other thing… Right near the door, a golden opportunity: Okay, now, which end did the clocks use again? After determining the art thief isn’t in my new car, I head inside. Once in, I decide to get sneaky and clever.I’ll lure the art thief to ME! Hmmm…needs more pink… An hour later… Damned if the Tsoo have a Tsso What attitude about my masterpiece. (c’mon…we’ve all said it…it ain’t Tsoo bad to admit it, either. Right? RIGHT?) As I am no Tsoothsayer, I have to do things the old fashioned way: Hey now…at least let me swing first. Know what I love about Tsoo-serers? Same thing everybody loves: Don’tTP! Don’tTP! Don’t…awwwww, sh*t… Plus they got these guys: Charlie Sheen!..Or…not? Of course, these guys are fearless. I mean, listen to them: But, just to shake things up, they sometimes run: Can’t outrun my friend Smith & Wesson…oil…(damn..I actually hit that guy). They also hit you with mega doses of melatonin: Must…resist…same thing that happened…on...Turkey Day…I (zzzzzzz). And then the wizardy stuff, which gives me a lot of light reading. All one word. Repeated over and over: But at least I’m well-rested: When I AM upright and not snoozing, I do okay: 2 for 2 with the gun. I’m Dirty Freakin’ Harry! Speaking of playing dirty: Hi. Remember I said I didn’t need to take notes on villainous monologuing? Right. Got it. Me bad, you good. 3 for 3? Who is that masked man? (pst…it’s me) Of course, no Tsoo review would be complete without: Agh! Your pit! It SMELLS SO BAD! AHHHHH! (oh…avoided…LILAC!) These guys are mysterious, lemme tell ya. And the biggest mystery of all: HOW do you guys expect to get THAT painting in THIS box? Last room. And SOMEBODY’s trying to hide back there in those nooks and crannies: You know, hidin’s easier when your head isn’t all red and shiny. I should know. See? I make me way DEEP into the bowels of the facility. Tsoo very deep. So very: Are you kiddin me? I was JUST there. Well, no wonder I missed it. Look how cleverly hidden it is: Yep. Blends right in, don’t it? Back to luminous Loomis. I tell her what I know. What’s the next mish, my queen? Oh…um…okay…(shrugs) Everything in south IP is the same color as Barney the Dino-sawer. I try IP North. Good call, me. I efficiently conduct my investigations, uncovering something about a Tsoo coup that is definitely NOT cool. Know what else isn’t cool? Standing around next the tram and running into this: No ticket, no ride, kemosabe. Anyhoo, more investigation. On to the next office or warehouse or: …okay…(sigh) No sooner do I do that: Damn…why won’t this guys talk? Oh, well. Let’s fire up the Webber Char King. Done. (or it is well done?) Quick visit to sky: Pickup game? Next time, Losers. Er…Lost. Got a delivery to make. Trudeau gives me the latest skinny on the Tsoo-nanigans (even though that ISN’T this arc). I’m off to take down a boss! The mysterious Copperhead. Oooh...sounds ominous. After a quick power up at the base (which just happens to be under construction, thanks to the efforts of @Etched, who is going to make sure DB doesn’t stay perpetually lame), I’m back in AP: Evidently leaving a trail of dirty, brown farts behind me, Quick snack before entering: Throw away your wax paper after sniffing your sandwiches, kiddies. And in we go. Well, this is unexpected. Where are the tats and sorcerers and stuff? Instead I get the ripped jeans brigade. Ah. Here we are: Try to lead ME into a trap, why don’cha? (I would…I’m not too bright, y’know) We play bounce house with Red Viper, who’s got electricity (like, REAL electricity, not that metaphor stuff Mandy likes). As usual, the Tsoo appear in small pods of no more than… 7…yeah…7…(I hate you guys) So, let’s take this in small bites, shall we? First, a little payback: Yessss…sleeeeeep…sleep, my enemy, I…(ahem) sorry…vigilante training. Then, this mess: Want pancakes? Then you gotta have BATTER. Heh, heh…(ahem) These guys really are a tre-MEN-dous pain in the arse. After I accidentally draw 2 groups instead of 1: Stunstunstun…(thunk)... I end up having to play like a noobie blaster, the whole jousting bit, and use of temps. It’s not a perfect solution, but this is what happens when you skip Ryuji-von-Hoshi-Pat-Morita (or whatever the anti-disorient power is). Eventually, we find Copperhead. And he is: OWOWOW! HOTHOTHOTHOT! After getting slightly deep fried, I find info on the Tsoo plan to take over all the Gangs of Paragon (which also happens to be the title of the unfinished project Daniel Day-Lewis didn’t get to before he retired [I don’t like that guy. He seems to have NO sense of humor]). The great news: I get to stay in Atlas for a bit longer, specifically at this place: Um…you’ll never find a more wretched hive of smelly shoes and stale fries? Take out some Fam and my tattooed boys. As is their SOP, they tend to gather in what I now lovingly call “stun pods.” I hate you. So much. Bust leaders here, and in Steel. As far as the Fam go: I’m…not sure what a “slow” eye is, but okay. Fancy that. There’s a mobster named Tony.:-) Done wth that. I get a rinse and repeat in IP. There are a LOT of gang leaders to bust. But it's still easier than grilling them (in a nice butter sauce). Well, there’s a change of pace: Bombs. Good. That’ll make grilling easier. The heat and all, right?...What is that a bad idea? Lotsa my bros here. Thankfully this happens: And things get a LOT easier. For the moment. Meanwhile…something is going on at Devil-base… I am the…! ...what the hell? Correction - what in the nine hells…? OMG! I can COOK! I can fix stuff! And do my taxes online! I can rea…I can LEARN to read! I can finally wash these filthy-a** togs! I can set the high score on Galaga! And no one can change it! It’s a M*********ING BONANZA! (Actually, it’s just the concerted efforts of @Etchedto bring the Bat into the 21st century (while retaining my lame-ass roots).:-) And from the look of things, he’s still at it! (what I snapped here was just a small portion of what's already been done-I LOVE it!) Much love, kemosabe. The Bat will keep his streaky undies bleached and pleated as he fights evil [but not dust bunnies…we draw the line there!]). But, seriously folks: from out of nowhere Etched sent me a message and offered time and effort to spruce up the DB Cave. I am so seriously touched and grateful that words cannot express it. This is a person who exemplifies what this community is all about. So, three cheers, a big shout out, and mega-Bat-Fives to @Etched! THANKS SO MUCH! We now return to our regularly-scheduled DB'ery...:-)

How about we make Villain Security Levels have titles that fit their ethos, i.e., L1=Punk L5=Douche Bag L10=Full Blown Douche Bag L15=Just Plain Douche L20=Diiiiiiick... And so on... (Hmmm...Now that I think about it, those labels could apply heroside, too, couldn't they?):-)

Year 1, Dog Day 10 maybe? I lost count Goin’ DARK (and edgy as a butter knife! at least!) Yeah, it’s been a great ride for yours truly, so far. Yo. He’s talkin’ about moi, bruh. Or…hang on…Devil QUEEN? Duuuuude… (then again, maybe that makes me even MORE badass) And yet, with all the darky, dark, noir-isiciousness I’ve seen, I can feel something…stirring inside (and it ain’t the chorizo). It’s time to explore my edgelord side: First, a change of togs: C’mon, Roger, it’s me! ME!...don’t turn away… Then, a few pointers from the experts: Okay, so, #1…take umbrage with authority figures. Got it. #2: REALLY take umbrage. Let’s see…repeated…fist to…face, right? Got it! #3: Grimly and stoically loiter…(should I be quietly growling, like you guys?) #4: Declare all out war on beachwear. (You had me at beach, man) Protect the air compressor at ALL costs. Stay wound up at all times (no problem there!). Any time is “hammer time.” Presentation is EVERYTHING. (thanks for the notes, bro!) Say sinister sh*t, like “floodgates” and “spawn.” (Yeah, I KNOW this one already. Hear a lot of this when I’m taking shots to the mug.) Finally, and most importantly: Steal purses…(hmmm…bit advanced…am I READY for that?) Well, that oughta be enough to go on for now. Time to explore the dark, or rather DUSKY side. My first foray into edginess begins with these choices: Obviously, I can’t do BOTH these things, can I? Time to kick Big Mike’s a** (actually, if I’m reading the mish text right, I SHOULD be kicking his “slimier” lawyers asses, but they don’t seem to hang out in abandoned warehouses, like the Em’ster). Time to strike fear in the heart of- Um…hi…nothing to see here…I mean… Nothing to see here, officers! (huge, smarmy grin) Man, there are LOTS of cops here. Better look into why: Well, alrighty then. I don’t have to worry about the jurors! (now, why am I here? Oh, yeah - to give a beatdown (how is this different from being a hero?) Oh, right: And I’m ALL out of billiard balls (what, you don’t carry a pool cue everywhere you go?) 5 floors of nice cops, before I get to my man: What? You're not scared? C'MON! I’m dressed in red, dude! RED! Like, mean, scary red!...Oh, hell with it. Beating up Mikey then sets off a whole chain of events: And not a good chain, either. Like naughty chains and whips, and… (ahem) ANY-way. I get jumped by Mercado and his men: Behold my fantastic cosmic chest! No? (Bueller? Bueller?) Then we run past all those batiges that WERE applauding me when I came in. Only to find they’ve invited more of their buddies, AND a freakin' superhero!: F*** this... I make for the door, where, just for grins, I wait for Quant. After kicking him once to the face, I just run the hell out. Because, like the DUSK I disappear before your eyes (er…or something like that). In the end: Nice. I got to trash some dude, in exchange for jurors getting roughed up. Soooo worth it (??) Thus ends my first jaunt on the jagged side. All in all, it’s just a big pain in the arse. But I am committed. Because sometimes, you have to make tough choices when you’ve “gone off the deep end” (which I assume is a euphemism for, I am now even MORE dedicated to embodying the spirit of American jurisprudence!). So, THAT was a mixed bag, the ol' vigilante thing. Still, I hear it's the way to go, if you wanna be EDGY. So let’s try this a SECOND time, shall we? Surely, it’ll be simpler: Ah ha! And what are my choices, oh conundrum generator? Wtf? REALLY? Guess this means: Yeah, I got this… In I go, all bright and shiny. Which means I can't really mix in with these guys: Correction. It’s HEROIC Devil Bat. The guy just who just walks in and people fall down. My mish: take out 3 pulse charges. Do I catch a stroke of luck here? Yup…heroing is good…(now rolling bowling ball) Searching for bad machine #3, I find: Ah! A pesky hero! Er, I mean...FRIEND! I am? Even after that thing with the cops, I mean, the co…rrupt bad guys? I’m REALLY glad Overdrive is here, ‘cause this… …this could get spicy… It DID get spicy, because those turds on the right shuffled over and lit me up with fire and bullets (which I usually prefer on Rye toast). Nonetheless, Overdrive and me give ‘em whut fer. In the end: Man, that feels GREAT. But better yet: That’s right. Level 22, beeyotach. Er, I mean, gentle reader. (hehehehe...a-heh...{ahem}). Yeah... VERDICT: Wow…this whole vigilante thing SUUUUCKS! DB might have to consider his options carefully* (*meaning I’ll pick the one that he actually thinks is “right.” He may end up reinforcing his heroic ethos. We’ll see). In the meantime, we’ll grab Acrobatics (because that’s jumpy), sell off some stuff, upgrade the ol’ enhances, and then: So, Greg, this Rhonda person, over in Faultline - where DOES she get that sh*t? And do YOU have any bow ties? ... ... ... Hello?...Bue...ller?

Kallisti Wharf. Ain’t no crime there. Well…usually…

Faultline. The Furious Final Fantastic Finale (aka Ffffffffff...) The good Doctor gives me a heads up on what's next: And he STILL wants to hire me? How nice. So. Off to see my man G. And this much is certain: These jetpacks are NOT eco-friendly. Back to the old, dilapidated, really-needs-to-replaced-with-a-better-generator-at-one-TENTH-of-the-money dam, and-HELL-ooo. Well, well, well… SOMEONE took me up on the offer of Bombas socks. You won’t regret it, missy. Er. ma’am....You guys? G is right to the point, which is sooo G-like: Will do. And I promise not to tell anyone you’re a vampire. Team Edward!...er, right? Now that I’m clad in bright, shiny white, I, of course, get a covert mission: Um, okay. I mean, I’m down for irony as much as the next guy, but isn’t this sorta compounding the problem? As I head out: No. I’m a big, bad, super dude, you see, and- Oh…um, okay, you were saying? As I head that way: Nice work, Jean, Tom. You’re hired!....Whaddaya mean you’re NOT coming in with me? BRO! (sigh)...okay… Into the office/whatever this place is: Okay, so inputting "Plasmatic Taser" wasn't it. ONWARD I GO! only to discover: BACKWARD I GO! And then: Well…okay…I sorta announced myself, didn't I? So, after that sterling moment: So, I’m bright and shiny, and you want this…(sigh) Oh, well, I…Hmmm, this ain’t bad… Turns out, there are some major upsides to being all demented and evil looking: Hi, guys! I’m Arachnos! See?..AHEM! Hey, there…never mind…(damn, you guys ARE crabby). By the way, being a spider: …is exhausting…this armor is heavy, man. So, that being the case: Ahhh..relief…Who’s Nocturne? Oh, yeah. You mean NoKturne. Hubba, hubba. And so forth. (don't tell her I said that) Mish done! Good to go! But TOO LATE! (sh*t...isn’t that always the case?). G sends me to confer with Indy at some dig sites. Or, I imagine it that way, cuz I like fedoras. In actuality, though, it’s more like this: Dig, minions, Dig! You heard me. Arbiter Waffle, that’s who!...right…carry on… At the site, looking for Nazis and their too-short staff: Okay, no Nazis. And this place could REALLY use some throw pillows and doilies. Several bouts of this and that: Damn, I'm limber. A lot of work there to clear out the Naz-, I mean, Arachnos. But in the end, it’s all worth it: Second date! I’m fixin’-to get LUCKY! (or not) Off I go. And here she is: Hey, now. Can’t we discuss this over a nice chamomile? Or something? ASIDE: I feel like Arachnos minions would work harder if it weren’t for things like this: Seriously, Jenks. Chumps? I mean, you hired them ,didn’t’cha? (and here I am doing an MJ move: Eee-hee-hee!) Just in time for our date: Ouch. That “hand of doom” thing hurts when it comes from someone else. Polish that off. Hopefully with a 3rd date (someday?) I get sent out to deal with this dreamboat: Dude, I think that ALL the time. Then guess what happens? Yeah. That. Boom. CC is down (but still sytlin'). Sands is next. Long slog. Then all hands on deck. After he immediately klils my Yin-Clocks and poor ol' Donnie: All this and you taunt my dead clocks? Duuuuude… He's down and out (and still loquacious, I assume. So now it’s on to the trifecta (and the task of rescuing Penelope Yin, which is the ACTUAL mish). How confident am I? Not very, hence this. Quick tete-a-tete with the chopper pilot: So, if I get out of this alive, THEN can I get my banner flyby? She says she'll think about it (VICTORY!...er, right?. Long story short (but not really), I chopper in, free Penelope, then turn to find the vills are just excoriating themselves (and stuff…like my big word?). I dive in: Thanks, Sands. Now, you just…what the hell? Died in the explosion of Castillo’s bot. No problem. I get credit! Or, as G so eloquently puts it: You’re right, Dad. It IS something to- Did you say something? In the end, Bats is Bat-torious. Having just turned 21 (levels that is), I take a well-deserved break, and seek out my OWN bow ties (Rhonda is just not a Selfridge employee) It's 2023, folks. Everyone stay Devilishly Batty! Thanks, Uncy Cyrus. I AM awesome.

Year 1, Day, like 8 or 9. The Doctor is In (and so are other people) Time moves like syrup. Over pancakes. And butter. Or rather, margarine. Because I can’t have butter anymore. Or sugar. Cheese? F*** that. Too much pain. Pizza? Death in a cardboard box, In fact, I- (ahem) Okay, now that Crane is done bitching and moaning about being old, on with my tale. No continuing with Faultline at the moment, because I’m level 19. Doc Delilah is too good for me. Well, right now. But Jake Montoya always gots stuff cookin’. So, it’s off to Skyway to hunt Clocks for…zero experience… Hooookay… Turns out there ARE some Clockies my level: And a li’l biscuit there next to ‘em. RUFF! After chasing off some trolls (why? Cuz.), Jake asks me to test a Wave Scrambler against the clocks: I’d say that’s…moderately successful. Turns out Jake just wants me to hunt, hunt, hunt. Now, I DO need to prove myself, so…never mind! I go back to FL and enlist the aid of the PO-PO SCANNER! (cheating on doing contacts, but I REALLY want L20, and I REALLY don’t want to hunt right now). I’m in luck! A bank is being robbed (which means someone else isn’t in luck but who cares about them, right?). OFF I GO! To the BAT CYCLE! (FYI: My shoes have the words “Bat Cycle” written on them). Hi… And hi again… What? You’re kidding! Okay, so they AREN’T here to open a solid, steady, low-interest savings account. You know, when it comes to combat readiness: These guys are NOT the model. But who needs readiness, when you have a cool name: Two bank tellers saved (who both inform me that, yes, they're trying to rob AND blow up the place). Hmmm...I’m guessing this is level 2 readiness. Either I’m flexing, or someone’s about to have a very bad day. Y'know, sometimes these mishes can be nebulous. Other times: Perp AND motive. Gotcha. Still not 20, so on to some Trolls stealing The Hand of Omega (poor Omega. Er, I mean, poor Lefty). Holy crap, the gun worked! Run from ME, will ya? (blows smoke from muzzle) After taking a boulder to the face: Soooo worth it...ow... Boom. Level 20. Keeper of the Peace! You know what that means. New togs! Spring will be here soon, and I’ll be sooo ready for the debutante ball. Bit of commerce and such: STILL no bow ties? Damnit, Rhonda! (sigh) ONWARD! (moderately) Doc wants me to look into the whole FL story that gave Jmmy Trembles fam a bad rep (er, Temblor, that is). No problem: Thankfully, these guys implicate themselves. With Akashiknight’s body found,Doc has me snoop around AK’s old office. The name Captain Castillo comes up. I already know I don’t like him. His duds are nearly as stylish as mine, and I want ALL the attention at the spring ball (17 and a half weeks from now - and counting, bro!). Off we go! BAT CYCLE AWAY! Once in the old, (not) abandoned office: I guess I’ll be the one “telling them about it.” (prepping my notes) So a lot of “Protect the Arbiter!” Who turns out to be: My Buddy! Or…not? Wow. Big entrance by me and: Itty bitty sliver of health taken. Ouch. Lots of insps and smacking later: Sands. So polite. Love you, guy. Er, I mean, TAKE THAT EVIL DOER! On to meet with Agent Homey G, Then Doc sends me to uncover the truth. Well, I know one thing: You’re right, Marvin. This old dam sucks. I’ll put in a word with Robert Alderman, HE’LL know what to do. Doc comes along for the ride: (swoon) That’s my gal. So, no more comments about the Daisy Dukes. Got it…Damn, you’re tall. ONWARD! We fight our way to the ever stylish Captain Castillo, which can only mean one thing: Summon the cavalry! (and thanks, Cap'n…I think…) In the end, we emerge triumphant* (*which is a really good Supers RPG by Simon Washbourne, btw) Hi. We rock. The Doc spells it all out (as we currently know it): I see. Well, it’s all good, cuz:

I’ve had some wonky experiences with different TFs. Just never felt the need to consistently air them publicly (even though a wonky experience is always more interesting than the TF where Commander Maxout runs off to do their own thing - if we’re yelling at each other it’s at least an acknowledgement there’s more than 1 or 2 people there).

Batties FL Excursion (cont). Our thoughts now turn to Ms. Yin. Like Jim, Penny’s missing someone. Her padre. Also Doc (I’m Almost As Crae As Fusionette [and a distant 3rd behind Lady Crae-Grey) Delilah is missing. I have a few theories to share. Like, maybe she's moonlighting?: No? How about: Starring in a big budget film?...No? Okay, that exhausts my detective prowess, so, off I go. Naturally, I find my FAVORITE bad guys there: And I’m just heels over head about it! Y’know, I’m not sure Doc needs my help. She’s like 7’ tall: And she throws boulders: After I “help out” Ms. Goliath, Jim gets a call from Cantalope, er I mean, Pen-a-lope, and she sends me after Muxley. I handle that with a plum (or possibly aplomb? [insert something good here]). It’s right after this that history reaches a nexus point - a moment in which the entire future of the world rests. So close to rewriting a LOT of lore there… Well, at least we know where big daddy Yin is. So, off I go (after levelling, which I’ve needed to do for an hour, but, um, forgot I was more powerful [happens, when you’re this awesome]). I pick up some enhances from this person: So all this sh*t just “fell off a truck,” right? Gotcha. Got any cigarettes or bowties? Penny sez I need a team to rescue dear ol’ dad. But I figure with me and my 6 personalities, I’m more than good there. Besides, I got snow beast, and we all know what HE (she? no discernible anatomy) can do. Plus, I always have my trusty gun: Eat blanks, beeyotch! After a few mini-skirmishes, I discover that the mish is dangerous because it has named villains, like this one: Dude…marketing… Under the heading, biting off more you can chew: All good (pant, pant). Thanks grenades. And stun grenades. And taser thing. Y’know-not my actual POWERS. Which means: live by the taser: I’ll get you, you nameless bastige! Just lemme get up, and...pull your fist outta my a**. Round 2 goes a bit better: Yeah, I sneaked up on ya, bruh. And I ain’t sorry. (grenade, grenade, grenade, KICK!) It doesn’t get any easier: Oh, for the love of…BUNCH UP, WOULDJA? Yeah. Like that. (sheesh…did you guys skip villain school?) Finally, we find our man, guarded by: You’re one letter away from your true name, hombre. Oh, yeah? Well, she was ALMOST my sidekick, man. Of course, we know there’s an ambush coming. And there are two ways to handle an ambush: Run, little man! Run! With our good friend and ally, Missiondoor, covering our retreat, we get Daddy dearest back at work, where yours truly gains access to the man’s goodies. Er, his shop, that is: Hmmm…never been paid in prime rib before. Well…this is rather…eclectic. It's okay, though. Big Canie mallets don't kill people. People kill themselves trying to swing them. And, of course: Yin tech, for the discerning Yang-kee. Not to mention 8 merits! GOGOGO! MINEMINEMINE!

Year 1, day 8 or 9. Hard to say (too many tamales with jalapenos...recovery is slow): This installment: Not YOUR Fault (line) We begin the day with Eagle Eye telling us How Deadlock Got His Groove Back (aka, BAB gets slamma-jamma’ed). He tells it so well, it’s almost like I’m there. I mean, he even vividly described Deadlock’s itty-bitty Rob Liefeld feet. But then Big Mike related the whole thing, so I guess feet is mainly what he saw. After that interlude, I race off to Faultline, where Big Jim Temblor is waiting to pop his muscle band. Or to bring me onboard to help with Fusionette (aka I’m Almost as cra-cra as Lady Grey-Grey). I head into a facility where a really loud alarm thing sounds when I enter (greaaaat…). Once inside, I confirm that my new Spring Attack power is just as lousy as the rest of them: Well…least I LOOK good. But, after a bit of practice: Take that you ass…phalt. But nothing beats the ol’ standby: That’s one OW! for me, and one for you, bro. After several differences of opinion with these long-handed blaster guys, it occurs to me that if I was smart: I’d just pay these guys off. Then I remember I have no money. I have “Inf.” It’s like money, but worthless. In any case, they’re lookin’ for a hand out, so: I give ‘em one. (Or two...Notice how gritty and stuff I am today? Post-Christmas grumps. Coal in the stocking.) Bit of beat-beat here and a beat-beat there, and: Over your head, eh? I assume that happens a lot, seeing as how you’re 4 and a half feet tall. After checking in with Jimbo, I get a rinse and repeat: With a bit of added “conditioner,” I guess (damn that little vixen, she is such a scamp). QUICK ASIDE: FL is just great. Constant reminders of how one should attack one’s enemies. Like this one: Noted. Sooooo noted. One of my goals is to Help Sands. After breathing a sigh of relief that it’s not to rebuild this: I find my erstwhile sorta-ally, deep in debate with the Lost: He’s got a point, there Sandy man. Nevertheless, I don't have time to time you guys (or rather patience, actually), so: You mean UNnfortunate. For them, right? RIGHT? Yup. Them. Holy moley...You load those shells yourself, Cletus? Soon, we find fair maiden. Which I guess means nap time for everybody but me and the drones: Oh, no, it’s okay. Take a few Z's...in the middle of combat. I GOT this (grumble, grumble). Now we have to defeat Kurse, who is especially edgy and cool, ‘cause he spells his name with a K. This time, I nap while my allies finish off some perps, using their unending KB: Hey, guys! Let's question this one so that we...um...never mind... Finally, on the last floor, we find our man: Hel-looooooo, crazy town! (No help here, Kursey - used all my tape to wrap gifts). Well, if it’s a can of whoop-ass calling, then, here you go, Senor. One Remove Kurse spell expended, and we're back to Jimbo for the finale. Turns out all this leads to taking on Nocturne before she escapes with the remnants of Christmas ham. Or some other valuable thing. Like Kurse, Nocturne is edgy and cool, because her name is Nocturne (but imagine if it were NoKturne! oooooooh….). In any case, this means ARACHNOS. And Arachnos means: Don’t have a cow, Mu. (hehehehehe…heh…{ahem}). One long slog through sewers (and many Mu Cows), a busted up submersible (that I can't hit unless I'm in JUST the right spot [reminds me of my honeymoon]), and a few kicks to Nocturne's Family Jewels analogue (which turns out to be all over her body): I won’t forget it, either, missy. Hubba, hubba (that sub was PURTY!) All that jazz nets me Jim's gratitude, and an introduction to Penny Yin (pre-badass version). PLUS: 8 merits! You know what THAT means:

POWERS UPDATE (and last of the day): In keeping with jumping higher, faster, farther (and further, if need be), DB picks up Spring Attack. Really wanted that Spinning Strike, but we'll wait a bit on that. Bit of Acrobatics is in our future, fer sure. Somewhere along the line, we'll return to the really useless. Like Medicine (because interruptible heals are SOOOO precious). So, our experiment in old school crawling has us at L18, with Faultline series unlocked. After that, who knows? I might consult the hivemind for suggestions. Remember: you, too, can make a difference (because someone's got to take up my slack). Till next time, have a bat-tastically devilish Holiday season. You know where to find me:

INTERLUDE: Devil Bat gets all sensitive and sh*t So, my recent encounters have me worried about my image: Oh, my…What did I ever do to y-...Oh…um, yeah. But maybe Cog is on to something. Time to work on my image! Hi there! I'm Devil Ba…I said, I'm. de…SLOW DOWN, WILLYA? (can I join? [sniff]) Look, all I know is "slammin'," too, and look how I turned out! No. No, I'm pretty certain that a little branding would do wonders for your love life. And maybe leave the kids at home on the first date? What I'm saying is, it's OKAY to have your own views on things. You don't have to BE just a drone, right?...oh…you mean…never mind… Come now, Ms. Smithers. Can't you see you and Soulburn here are MEANT for each other? Alright! Wooo! Yeah! So, you guys are locked out the house, you said? Annnd here you go. A huge box of Bombas socks. You know for every pair you buy… You know, you're right, Baphomet. It IS peaceful as f*** up here. Hey there! That's 25% off Golden Corral, people! We're talkin' the FULL BUFFET!...hello?... Look, all we're talklin' here is one teeny, tiny banner on your next fly by. With itty bitty letters saying DEVIL BAT IS KEWL. So, you on board? Ah! He'll "give it all the consideration it's due." Problem solved! Off to Faultline, 'cuz Big Jim Temblor needs me. Well, he needed SOMEBODY, and I happened to be passing by. (this is an EXCELLENT location to view my chopper banner).:-)