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With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)
- Thread starter Mr Zoat
- Start date
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- Tags
- self insert young justice
ChestBurster
Getting sticky.
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Hoo boy, I sure hope he didn't accidentally transform during his classes. It would explain the crudeness he's experiencing maybe a little bit, the language drifts and some words don't exactly have the same connotations as they had before.
How many time have we seen wardrobe malfunction in this fic? I recall the Superman bum reveal one, or maybe I'm misremembering that?
How many time have we seen wardrobe malfunction in this fic? I recall the Superman bum reveal one, or maybe I'm misremembering that?
Mr Zoat
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Thank you, corrected.
No, that's correct.
Thank you, corrected.
NightmareWarden
Versed in the lewd.
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Hopefully not J'onn J'aarkn's clothing, even if Paul could afford them from Ebay or collectors.
Prince Charon
Just zis guy, you know?
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Then yes, I am older.
Link, please?
Windona
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Aww, Sandy. Though I figure even if other people aren't seeing things, part of the issue for Sandy is the feeling of being naked or losing his clothes. The vulnerability of it.
Sure, poodle skirts aren't all the rage, but Sandy already wasn't that far from the mini skirt. Though I guess he was too young to have been around when flappers were a thing.
Sure, poodle skirts aren't all the rage, but Sandy already wasn't that far from the mini skirt. Though I guess he was too young to have been around when flappers were a thing.
Stsword
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He was in a group that included superheroines.
A group that even back then favored skin tight pants (like Liberty Bell, Fury), miniskirts (like Miss America, Lady Blackhawk), leotards (like Wonder Woman), or just flat out wardrobe malfunctions waiting to happen (like Phantom Lady).
Windona
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When put like that, maybe it's the less modest clothes not being as colorful that's throwing him off. Gotta throw in more primary colors ladies
Steelplaza
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Just to get my marker down before the next chapter is posted, I'm betting that the solution will be clothing woven from mineral fibers. Since Sandy could merge in glasses, that suggest that other silicon based materials could be brought along. Hopefully without the asbestos fibers problem, of course.
False Dawn (part 5)
Mr Zoat
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8th November 2012
08:42 GMT -5
Sand billows up from the workshop floor, flowing into the shape of Sanderson. As it sculpts itself into humanoid form, colour begins to appear, until-.
Sanderson checks his arms, the utilitarian green fibreglass and ceramic plate overalls I fashioned for him having transformed back with him. "It works!"
"Okay, so as long as it's mostly made of silica, you can take it with you. Is the fibreglass comfortable?"
"Beats running around naked, that's for sure." He runs his hands over the material. "Though I gotta say, I think I prefer the classic look to the Brave New World look. Not-. Not that I want to sound ungrateful-."
"It's all one with me, chum." I raise my left hand. "You wanna get behind the screen again, or-."
Sanderson collapses into sand, flowing back across the floor before rebuilding himself out of sight. I'm not sure how normal this sort of body-shyness is amongst people from the forties. I mean, sure, I know that certain styles of more revealing clothing have become mainstream since he was young, but I've seen Alan in swimming shorts before. Maybe he's just adapted?
"How do I take this off?"
"Stone fasteners down the left side of the chest. You should be able to slip it off after that."
"Thank you. Got it."
Alright, ring. Tailoring mode.
Compliance.
Sanderson's ability appears to be able to accept dyes, so the colour of the cloth isn't a problem.
"You know Mister Dodds didn't wear armour, right?"
"Yes?"
"I have a fairly strong opinion about wearing armour when we fight. I understand when superheroes want to avoid high lethality weapons, but not protecting yourself is just foolish."
"Sure, but what kind of armor do you think he could have got in the nineteen forties? Did you want him to dress like a knight or something?"
"Oh, come on, infantry armour was used in the First and Second World Wars. Sure, he couldn't have gotten a modern steel and ceramic jacket, but he could have gotten something that would have stopped revolver rounds."
"Wesley mostly attacks from ambush, using his gas gun."
"I approve, but it only takes one guard taking a smoke break for you to really wish you had a backplate. Green jacket?"
"Yes, please."
"Purple cape?"
"Do you have something against capes?"
"I'm not convinced about the mix of colours, but you're the one wearing it. You know he… Switched costumes later on?"
"They were in the wardrobe. And I guess they're more… Tasteful. But they're just clothes. They don't really say 'super hero'. I think that was just things he wore normally. Unless there's some sort of problem I don't know about?"
"Ah… No, Mister Dodd's original costume is old enough that it doesn't really signify anything, other than a slightly odd taste in clothes."
"You can't do anything about the mask and gas gun, can you?"
"You mean, make them silica-based..?" Silicon nanotubes and silicene? None of that's ideal… "Ah, yes, but the performance will suffer, and the mask will feel weird."
"As weird as turning into a pile of sand, or a little more weird?"
"That's… That's a fair point."
Ring, fabricate.
Compliance.
A clothing rack appears on the far side of the screen in a wave of orange light, and Sanderson's hand reaches out to grab the shirt.
"If you like it, I can make you a few more."
"I guess this isn't something future-tailors can put together in an afternoon, huh?"
"Not unless their better half was a materials scientist who brought their work home with them. Is your control..? Often a problem?"
"I haven't been arrested for public indecency or anything like that, but as far as I'm concerned once is too much."
"Because I know a guy in India who can create silicate bodies for himself? He might be able to help you learn how to control yourself better?"
"Thank you." I hear a tugging sound as he pulls the mask over his face. "I always used to like Wesley's stories-"
He steps out from behind the screen, looking… I think that the word 'dapper' is contemporary? He adjusts the jacket as he looks into the mirror.
"-about his time in India. Maybe I could take a year out after I finish college?"
"Up to you. Feeling ready to head out?"
He heads over to the weapon cabinet and takes out a gas gun and several reloads, both of sleeping gas and the pressurised air cylinders that take the place of a normal propellant.
"I guess so. Is there anything else you think I'll need?"
"I don't think so, but I've never tried physically entering the Dream before. We can check with Doctor Balewa before we start."
He nods, and we head back into the living area where Alan is going through one of Mister Dodds' old photo albums. He looks up as he puts it down, blinking at the sight of Sanderson in his mentor's outfit.
"I don't think Paul designed that."
"No, he wanted to put me in some kind of overalls."
"I never claimed to have any sense of aesthetics. Have you ever been to Themyscira before?"
"No." He looks away awkwardly. "Wesley made me stay home when the Society visited."
Alan looks a little guilty. "We.. weren't exactly sure what we were going to be seeing. Ah…"
"Different time. Couldn't have a bunch of loose women corrupt poor innocent Sanderson."
"E-h…" Sanderson shrugs. "I knew Wonder Woman wasn't like-."
"It was really more-" Alan shakes his head. "-we thought they might try mothering the poor boy."
"Hey! Alan!"
08:42 GMT -5
Sand billows up from the workshop floor, flowing into the shape of Sanderson. As it sculpts itself into humanoid form, colour begins to appear, until-.
Sanderson checks his arms, the utilitarian green fibreglass and ceramic plate overalls I fashioned for him having transformed back with him. "It works!"
"Okay, so as long as it's mostly made of silica, you can take it with you. Is the fibreglass comfortable?"
"Beats running around naked, that's for sure." He runs his hands over the material. "Though I gotta say, I think I prefer the classic look to the Brave New World look. Not-. Not that I want to sound ungrateful-."
"It's all one with me, chum." I raise my left hand. "You wanna get behind the screen again, or-."
Sanderson collapses into sand, flowing back across the floor before rebuilding himself out of sight. I'm not sure how normal this sort of body-shyness is amongst people from the forties. I mean, sure, I know that certain styles of more revealing clothing have become mainstream since he was young, but I've seen Alan in swimming shorts before. Maybe he's just adapted?
"How do I take this off?"
"Stone fasteners down the left side of the chest. You should be able to slip it off after that."
"Thank you. Got it."
Alright, ring. Tailoring mode.
Compliance.
Sanderson's ability appears to be able to accept dyes, so the colour of the cloth isn't a problem.
"You know Mister Dodds didn't wear armour, right?"
"Yes?"
"I have a fairly strong opinion about wearing armour when we fight. I understand when superheroes want to avoid high lethality weapons, but not protecting yourself is just foolish."
"Sure, but what kind of armor do you think he could have got in the nineteen forties? Did you want him to dress like a knight or something?"
"Oh, come on, infantry armour was used in the First and Second World Wars. Sure, he couldn't have gotten a modern steel and ceramic jacket, but he could have gotten something that would have stopped revolver rounds."
"Wesley mostly attacks from ambush, using his gas gun."
"I approve, but it only takes one guard taking a smoke break for you to really wish you had a backplate. Green jacket?"
"Yes, please."
"Purple cape?"
"Do you have something against capes?"
"I'm not convinced about the mix of colours, but you're the one wearing it. You know he… Switched costumes later on?"
"They were in the wardrobe. And I guess they're more… Tasteful. But they're just clothes. They don't really say 'super hero'. I think that was just things he wore normally. Unless there's some sort of problem I don't know about?"
"Ah… No, Mister Dodd's original costume is old enough that it doesn't really signify anything, other than a slightly odd taste in clothes."
"You can't do anything about the mask and gas gun, can you?"
"You mean, make them silica-based..?" Silicon nanotubes and silicene? None of that's ideal… "Ah, yes, but the performance will suffer, and the mask will feel weird."
"As weird as turning into a pile of sand, or a little more weird?"
"That's… That's a fair point."
Ring, fabricate.
Compliance.
A clothing rack appears on the far side of the screen in a wave of orange light, and Sanderson's hand reaches out to grab the shirt.
"If you like it, I can make you a few more."
"I guess this isn't something future-tailors can put together in an afternoon, huh?"
"Not unless their better half was a materials scientist who brought their work home with them. Is your control..? Often a problem?"
"I haven't been arrested for public indecency or anything like that, but as far as I'm concerned once is too much."
"Because I know a guy in India who can create silicate bodies for himself? He might be able to help you learn how to control yourself better?"
"Thank you." I hear a tugging sound as he pulls the mask over his face. "I always used to like Wesley's stories-"
He steps out from behind the screen, looking… I think that the word 'dapper' is contemporary? He adjusts the jacket as he looks into the mirror.
"-about his time in India. Maybe I could take a year out after I finish college?"
"Up to you. Feeling ready to head out?"
He heads over to the weapon cabinet and takes out a gas gun and several reloads, both of sleeping gas and the pressurised air cylinders that take the place of a normal propellant.
"I guess so. Is there anything else you think I'll need?"
"I don't think so, but I've never tried physically entering the Dream before. We can check with Doctor Balewa before we start."
He nods, and we head back into the living area where Alan is going through one of Mister Dodds' old photo albums. He looks up as he puts it down, blinking at the sight of Sanderson in his mentor's outfit.
"I don't think Paul designed that."
"No, he wanted to put me in some kind of overalls."
"I never claimed to have any sense of aesthetics. Have you ever been to Themyscira before?"
"No." He looks away awkwardly. "Wesley made me stay home when the Society visited."
Alan looks a little guilty. "We.. weren't exactly sure what we were going to be seeing. Ah…"
"Different time. Couldn't have a bunch of loose women corrupt poor innocent Sanderson."
"E-h…" Sanderson shrugs. "I knew Wonder Woman wasn't like-."
"It was really more-" Alan shakes his head. "-we thought they might try mothering the poor boy."
"Hey! Alan!"
Last edited:
Ngamer11
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That should be 'one'.
I can't tell if Alan is just joking or being completely serious. Which one is it Mr Zoat?
Bud-E
Stand up so I can push you down!
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Back then the Amazons still had a fear of babies so them forcibly adopting Sandy makes sense.
Chojin Patriarch
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Though it looks like OL's utilitarian fashion sense is on full display. I know some superheroes called their outfits a union suit, but there's still a matter of style. On the other hand, he once wore loose-ish yellow tights and red trunks, gloves and boots...
Please, OL can take criticism surprisingly well.
Maybe he was just the sort of guy who wasn't comfortable putting himself on display?
You thought of everything, huh, OL?
Ah, one of OL's secret joys: playing dress-up dolls with superheroes.
But then, I'm not one to throw stones. I can spend hours agonising over picking and colouring costume elements in Champions Online's tailor when making a new outfit for a character.He also skulked in shadows with a gas gun. If he'd been in a situation where he needed armour, things were going badly.
And going without because you're super-tough is no excuse. There's always something to exploit a weakness out there.
On the other hand, he was not an overly muscular man, at least in his early career. Anything that tough might have been too much for him to manage wearing.
Ah, going with the Mystery Man look over the tights, then?
Eh, maybe a nice trenchcoat would work better?
To be fair, the cape was merely the fashion of the time. Nice for making a dramatic swirl, or for disguising the outline of your body. Or for pulling off and wrapping around someone in shock.
And maybe a taste for pulp magazines? With their parade of detectives, shadowy spies and mystery men? Could have been worse, he could have dressed like 'Doc' Savage.
And you do not want it chafing, never mind leaking.
And he has worn odder masks in the comics.
Saves on tailoring costs, anyway.
Not unless they work for S.T.A.R Labs. Or are otherwise a hypercognitive.
Aw, so no inadvertent 'falling apart' scenes at a party? The bros would probably get lots of mileage from 'coming apart at the seams' jokes...
That would be Rama Khan, of course. Though I wouldn't be surprised if some of his sand-avatar's appearance was a glamour rather than metamorphosis.
It takes a certain man to make such a classic style look good. Looks like Sanderson is one of them.
Freshly made, I hope. I don't expect any original charges from the old days would have remained viable that long.
To be fair, that's probably a good thing that you haven't been poking this stuff. Besides the obvious potential for mass psychological alteration, I doubt Dream would be happy about someone casually poking their nose into his realm.
Not enough psuedo-leather and armour plates, huh?
Which might explain the functionality of stuff like your heavy powered armour, and it's effectively neckless design.
Worried about corrupting the youth with a wonderland of scantily-clad ladies?
Let's not forget that most of the All-Star Squadron's few distaff members weren't exactly prone to showing skin (Tigress and Phantom Lady, notwithstanding...)Yes, Diana was quite proper... In Man's World. But hearing what Themyscira was like, wouldn't your mind go straight to 'Greco-Roman ladies-only resort island' first?
Ah, ribbing. The joy of still being the 'junior partner' in the old man's eyes, regardless of how you're dressed.
So, then. The sidekick steps up to take on his mentor's title? A classic of the genre, and one step closer to the possible founding of a new Justice Society someday. Here's hoping Sanderson goes on to do the name 'Sandman' justice. Though this is going to be one heck of a trial by fire for him. Not long until they take the big plunge, then...
Mr Zoat
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Thank you, corrected.
The SI doesn't know.
The first time I played Morrowind I spent an hour staring at the name screen.Ah, one of OL's secret joys: playing dress-up dolls with superheroes.
Windona
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Admittedly, I'm with Sanderson on aesthetics. What's the point of being a public superhero if you're not wearing an outfit that's incredibly distinct and may or may not be a crime against fashion? Cover up all boob windows with neon green or something equally eye catching.
Honestly an island full of incredibly athletic and at least somewhat beautiful women wanting to mother you might be worse, in some ways.
Honestly an island full of incredibly athletic and at least somewhat beautiful women wanting to mother you might be worse, in some ways.
szypty
Getting some practice in, huh?
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You obviously make a name that's an anagram of "Nerevarine".
Varen Erein. Raven Nerie. Vern Aerine. Aerie Neven. Evin Earner.
So many options!
Same with KotOR and "Darth Revan".
cerberus beasty
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Hey don't kinkshame
Windona
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I'm not, I'm saying it would be awful if that wasn't his thing. Though now I'm wondering what kind of rep Themescyria had in the 40's, or if it's just 40's homophobia where they all go 'the Amazons haven't seen a man in thousands of years, they must all be desperate!'
Mr Zoat
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I went with Alain. I wanted to try making a Knight of Serra, but summoned armour was a bit of a pain to use.
BartlettMagic
peekaboo, you fucks you!
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i'm playing catch up-
my reading comprehension must be declining, this is news to me. but that whole 'John Quinn' thing was never really fully explained, IMO.
my reading comprehension must be declining, this is news to me. but that whole 'John Quinn' thing was never really fully explained, IMO.
BartlettMagic
peekaboo, you fucks you!
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now that i'm back up to speed again, i like where this is headed.
Stsword
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What more explanation do you need? John Constantine, so John. Quinn is John's mother's maiden name.
Constantine really didn't put a lot of effort into it.
Or did you miss the part about how Quinn is purportedly another golem made by Constantine, the same process he used to make now Demon Constantine, to play Lord of Order?
Constantine supposedly didn't want it, and didn't trust it with anyone else, so he made someone.
Who then purportedly imprisoned Constantine.
They got this from Demon Constantine.
Even if Demon Constantine's story is 100% true I wouldn't be surprised that he set it up so that Paul's actions result in Demon Constantine eating Quinn or something.
Demon Constantine has already expressed interest in not being a demon anymore, and look, another golem made out of Constantine's soul with a connection to the plane of Order.
Darko
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Yeah, I pointed this out myself a few times.
Granted I thought it was Golden Boy.
Hmm, this kinda makes sense and it explains why the Demon is being helpful.
Mr Zoat
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Yes. Neither the SI, nor any characters who are actually trustworthy, have first hand knowledge of what John Quinn actually is.
Earth's Mightiest Negotiator (part 2)
Mr Zoat
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22nd April 2012
10:26 GMT -5
Earth 8096
"…mean well, Anthony, but historically speaking diplomacy has not exactly been your greatest strength."
He… I suspect that he's glaring inside his helmet, but I can't actually see his eyes and his current generation armour tends to scatter my scans.
"You wanna talk to the Kree so badly? Fine, go ahead. I'll get into position for when it doesn't work."
I clap my hands together in a praying gesture.
"Thank you."
"Yeah, I'm not getting my hopes up." He increases power to his repulsors as he lifts off. "Break a leg."
I nod and smile before turning to face the Kree delegation.
"Gentlemen. Grand Accuser."
I drift closer to where Ronan's floating platform hovers just above the kree shuttle and accompanying soldiers which are currently menacing central New York. I know it was a bit of a joke in the comics, but it… Really is always New York where this stuff happens.
The quinjet carrying Hulk, Steve and a severely hung-over Skurge sets down on the other side of the plaza, my friends exiting as soon as the landing ramp opens. I hoped that Amora would come, but… Thor was a bit blunt about things last week, and she's off 'not'-sulking. Skurge on the other hand was perfectly happy to get a fight. I think he's gradually coming to understand that the woman who claims to love only Thor and who has been obsessively pursuing Thor for -as I understand it- several centuries might just possibly not be interested in him.
I feel a bit sad for him, actually, but since he and Hulk appear to be getting on okay I haven't wanted to stick my oar in.
Ronan looks down at my colleagues, and then raises his head to look at me. His giant hammer -which I assume had some special name in the comics but which I'll be darned if I can remember- is held casually in his right hand, the butt of the staff section resting on his flying pad which the oversized head is high enough up that he can see under it. By itself it's clearly an impractical weapon, so I assume that there's some sort of clever energy weapon built into it.
"You represent the leaders of this planet?"
"I am empowered to negotiate on their behalf."
Which is technically true, if the hurriedly written e-mail from the Secretary General was genuine.
"Surrender your planet to the Kree Empire, and you may live."
"What have we done to warrant your illustrious presence?"
In the lead amongst the soldiers are… Ah, that's Mar-Vell and… A kree officer with three orbital paths on his logo rather than Mar-Vell's one, which presumably means that he's in command. Or are those electron orbits-? Doesn't matter.
"The Kree Supreme Intelligence believes that this world may have value. I am here to judge whether or not that is correct."
"That depends what you're looking for. Our technology is far more primitive than yours, and I can't imagine that we'd be able to add much to your military strength-. Or is this about the wormholes?"
"You do not need to know the reason. You merely need to know your place."
"I beg to differ. Thor of Asgard briefed us on the fact that is extremely easy to make wormhole portals to and from this system. I'm not.. ignorant of its strategic value. But the point is… It's the system that has value. Not.. this planet. If you wanted to build a fleet base around Jupiter or on Mars, you… Could, and you would receive the exact same benefit that you'd get from building in near Earth."
I… Think he's considering it? The chap with the purple decoration is outright scowling at me, but he isn't interrupting his superior. Ring, let's risk a peek-. Oh, yes, he wants to kill the world's greatest warriors, decimate the rest and then work the survivors to death. What a worryingly short-sighted man he is, though I suppose that given kree eugenic practices he might well have been engineered to be incapable of thinking about other species in any other way.
"With the added benefit that there wouldn't be a native population for skrull infiltrators to hide in. I mean, I like Earth, but it doesn't seem to be your sort of place."
"It is the inevitable destiny of the universe to become part of the Kree Empire."
"Right, but is it important for Earth to become part of the Kree Empire now, where there are a great many other things you could do with the resources it would take, and when your own second looks like he's extremely dubious of the idea that we have any use at all? Is there an advantage that I'm not seeing?"
"That this offer is being made at all is a sign that the Supreme Intelligence sees some potential in you. The Kree Empire's normal procedure is to simply exterminate species with nothing to offer. Already your delaying tests my patience. Surrender your world and accept my judgement."
"No, I don't think I'll be doing that." I shake my head for a moment, closing my eyes as I do so. I make a point of not making an aggressive action because I know that my team mates are a bunch of barely restrained blood knights at the best of times and I don't want them deciding to jump in to save me. "I'm just going to make you leave."
"Deluded alien. One of your number already tried to fight me, and she now lies in a crater."
"Oh, I'm not going to fight you. I can make you leave-" I hold up my right forefinger. "-with a single word."
"A word." I nod. "What word is that?"
I extend my right hand and make a beckoning gesture with my forefinger.
He doesn't move.
"You're not going to want anyone else to hear this, and if you're not impressed then I'll be within hammer range."
He watches me for a moment, then floats.. closer. Oh, he's a big fellow. A big fellow who makes a point of floating slightly above me. I rise up until our faces are level, then lean close.
"Shi'ar."
His eyes narrow. "How do you know that name?"
"Princess Lilandra is dating my daughter's head master." I shrug as his hand clenches around the shaft of his hammer. "Now, I know that the Shi'ar Empire is an awfully long way away, but I also know of a system that forms a natural wormhole nexus. And you know that a man like Majestor D'ken wouldn't be able to approve our annexation fast enough if we made the request. And Lilandra could probably talk him into appointing her Imperial Governor and she'd tend to defer to her consort on local matters, so it's a much better deal for us. Quite aside from the fact that the shi'ar generally treat their alien subjects far better than the kree do."
I drift back slightly.
"Do you want to fight the Shi'ar Empire? No, of course you do. But can you afford to now?"
"We will accept the rest of the system-."
"That's not on the table any more. You know, I grew up watching Star Trek. I wonder what it'll be like to live like that?"
"They have no fleet here."
"How long will it take you to learn to exclude non-kree ships from the nexus? Because shi'ar psychic consorts can communicate instantly over any distance. I make a call, D'ken gets a call, and a fleet is en route within a few minutes. Now, if the Kree Empire made a huge strategic redeployment you could probably beat the first wave, but… Can you afford to do that?"
He stands still, glaring at me. And I've got to say, I'm impressed with his discipline.
"You have made an enemy of the Kree Empire this day."
"No, you were already our enemies. Now shoo."
A slight tremor in his expression, then his flying disk turns around and flies back to his shuttle. His subordinates clustering around, presumably to ask what the heck just happened.
"Okay, Orange." Tony flies back down to my level, and I can hear the incredulity in his voice. "How exactly did you manage that?"
"Oh, you know. Cuius testiculos habes, habeas cardia et cerebellum."
He looks askance at me. "What d'you mean by that?"
"You just have to know what people want. And in his case, it was not getting his habes ripped off."
10:26 GMT -5
Earth 8096
"…mean well, Anthony, but historically speaking diplomacy has not exactly been your greatest strength."
He… I suspect that he's glaring inside his helmet, but I can't actually see his eyes and his current generation armour tends to scatter my scans.
"You wanna talk to the Kree so badly? Fine, go ahead. I'll get into position for when it doesn't work."
I clap my hands together in a praying gesture.
"Thank you."
"Yeah, I'm not getting my hopes up." He increases power to his repulsors as he lifts off. "Break a leg."
I nod and smile before turning to face the Kree delegation.
"Gentlemen. Grand Accuser."
I drift closer to where Ronan's floating platform hovers just above the kree shuttle and accompanying soldiers which are currently menacing central New York. I know it was a bit of a joke in the comics, but it… Really is always New York where this stuff happens.
The quinjet carrying Hulk, Steve and a severely hung-over Skurge sets down on the other side of the plaza, my friends exiting as soon as the landing ramp opens. I hoped that Amora would come, but… Thor was a bit blunt about things last week, and she's off 'not'-sulking. Skurge on the other hand was perfectly happy to get a fight. I think he's gradually coming to understand that the woman who claims to love only Thor and who has been obsessively pursuing Thor for -as I understand it- several centuries might just possibly not be interested in him.
I feel a bit sad for him, actually, but since he and Hulk appear to be getting on okay I haven't wanted to stick my oar in.
Ronan looks down at my colleagues, and then raises his head to look at me. His giant hammer -which I assume had some special name in the comics but which I'll be darned if I can remember- is held casually in his right hand, the butt of the staff section resting on his flying pad which the oversized head is high enough up that he can see under it. By itself it's clearly an impractical weapon, so I assume that there's some sort of clever energy weapon built into it.
"You represent the leaders of this planet?"
"I am empowered to negotiate on their behalf."
Which is technically true, if the hurriedly written e-mail from the Secretary General was genuine.
"Surrender your planet to the Kree Empire, and you may live."
"What have we done to warrant your illustrious presence?"
In the lead amongst the soldiers are… Ah, that's Mar-Vell and… A kree officer with three orbital paths on his logo rather than Mar-Vell's one, which presumably means that he's in command. Or are those electron orbits-? Doesn't matter.
"The Kree Supreme Intelligence believes that this world may have value. I am here to judge whether or not that is correct."
"That depends what you're looking for. Our technology is far more primitive than yours, and I can't imagine that we'd be able to add much to your military strength-. Or is this about the wormholes?"
"You do not need to know the reason. You merely need to know your place."
"I beg to differ. Thor of Asgard briefed us on the fact that is extremely easy to make wormhole portals to and from this system. I'm not.. ignorant of its strategic value. But the point is… It's the system that has value. Not.. this planet. If you wanted to build a fleet base around Jupiter or on Mars, you… Could, and you would receive the exact same benefit that you'd get from building in near Earth."
I… Think he's considering it? The chap with the purple decoration is outright scowling at me, but he isn't interrupting his superior. Ring, let's risk a peek-. Oh, yes, he wants to kill the world's greatest warriors, decimate the rest and then work the survivors to death. What a worryingly short-sighted man he is, though I suppose that given kree eugenic practices he might well have been engineered to be incapable of thinking about other species in any other way.
"With the added benefit that there wouldn't be a native population for skrull infiltrators to hide in. I mean, I like Earth, but it doesn't seem to be your sort of place."
"It is the inevitable destiny of the universe to become part of the Kree Empire."
"Right, but is it important for Earth to become part of the Kree Empire now, where there are a great many other things you could do with the resources it would take, and when your own second looks like he's extremely dubious of the idea that we have any use at all? Is there an advantage that I'm not seeing?"
"That this offer is being made at all is a sign that the Supreme Intelligence sees some potential in you. The Kree Empire's normal procedure is to simply exterminate species with nothing to offer. Already your delaying tests my patience. Surrender your world and accept my judgement."
"No, I don't think I'll be doing that." I shake my head for a moment, closing my eyes as I do so. I make a point of not making an aggressive action because I know that my team mates are a bunch of barely restrained blood knights at the best of times and I don't want them deciding to jump in to save me. "I'm just going to make you leave."
"Deluded alien. One of your number already tried to fight me, and she now lies in a crater."
"Oh, I'm not going to fight you. I can make you leave-" I hold up my right forefinger. "-with a single word."
"A word." I nod. "What word is that?"
I extend my right hand and make a beckoning gesture with my forefinger.
He doesn't move.
"You're not going to want anyone else to hear this, and if you're not impressed then I'll be within hammer range."
He watches me for a moment, then floats.. closer. Oh, he's a big fellow. A big fellow who makes a point of floating slightly above me. I rise up until our faces are level, then lean close.
"Shi'ar."
His eyes narrow. "How do you know that name?"
"Princess Lilandra is dating my daughter's head master." I shrug as his hand clenches around the shaft of his hammer. "Now, I know that the Shi'ar Empire is an awfully long way away, but I also know of a system that forms a natural wormhole nexus. And you know that a man like Majestor D'ken wouldn't be able to approve our annexation fast enough if we made the request. And Lilandra could probably talk him into appointing her Imperial Governor and she'd tend to defer to her consort on local matters, so it's a much better deal for us. Quite aside from the fact that the shi'ar generally treat their alien subjects far better than the kree do."
I drift back slightly.
"Do you want to fight the Shi'ar Empire? No, of course you do. But can you afford to now?"
"We will accept the rest of the system-."
"That's not on the table any more. You know, I grew up watching Star Trek. I wonder what it'll be like to live like that?"
"They have no fleet here."
"How long will it take you to learn to exclude non-kree ships from the nexus? Because shi'ar psychic consorts can communicate instantly over any distance. I make a call, D'ken gets a call, and a fleet is en route within a few minutes. Now, if the Kree Empire made a huge strategic redeployment you could probably beat the first wave, but… Can you afford to do that?"
He stands still, glaring at me. And I've got to say, I'm impressed with his discipline.
"You have made an enemy of the Kree Empire this day."
"No, you were already our enemies. Now shoo."
A slight tremor in his expression, then his flying disk turns around and flies back to his shuttle. His subordinates clustering around, presumably to ask what the heck just happened.
"Okay, Orange." Tony flies back down to my level, and I can hear the incredulity in his voice. "How exactly did you manage that?"
"Oh, you know. Cuius testiculos habes, habeas cardia et cerebellum."
He looks askance at me. "What d'you mean by that?"
"You just have to know what people want. And in his case, it was not getting his habes ripped off."
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Shouldn't that say 'testiculos'?