I shift uncomfortably in my 'revised' costume.
"What?"
Huh, wearing something casual for once? I hope it's
suitably non-threatening.
"I've seen you wearing something other than your armor twice, and one of those times was on T.V."
"You wear your costume a lot."
"...It's
comfortable. And
warm. Is
that a crime?"
"I wear my costume when I'm working. I'm a t-shirts and slacks guy most of the time. Is this..?" He floats around me on his aero-discs, looking me over. "Is this supposed to be camouflage?"
I sigh. "I thought that my usual grey armour was a bit too much of a visual reminder of Father. As for this…"
Yes, turning up in gear that just
screams 'Come have a go' might send the
wrong message.
6th April 2012
10:13 GMT
"…why you think that I would want anything to do with a brute like you!"
Rarity glares at me, and stamps her right forehoof before lifting it back to her chest.
If anyone doesn't know, that particular motion is a clear challenge in horse body language. She is in a
fighting mood.
"Because I'm giving you the perfect opportunity to revenge yourself upon me for my brutishness. I'm asking you to design clothes for me, someone with no taste at all. I have no ability to assess your work. Whatever you make for me, I will wear at least once, and the only requirement I have is that it be at least somewhat red."
She… Considers. "You'll wear anything?"
Time to break out the lace and crinoline! Go on, make him regret this blank cheque...
"Anything."
She huffs. "Tempting as that is, I simply cannot deliberately design something that isn't magnificent. Fabulosity might as well be my middle name."
Aw, no revenge via fashion disaster. Still, at least he'll look good.
I didn't know she had a last name.
"But could you design something that would be fabulous in a very particular situation, but look ridiculous anywhere else?"
To be fair,
most ponies don't have family names. Beyond a common theme, anyway, like the Apple clan.
"Such as?"
"You wouldn't wear the same thing to a diplomatic reception as you would to a spring clean, would you?"
Now that's a challenge. Durable yet elegant, hard-wearing without being armoured...
"Well, of course not." But her hoof is down on the ground and she's looking thoughtful. "And you'll wear it?"
I nod. "And I'll wear it."
Throwing yourself on her mercy and getting a good outfit from it? Typical Renegade trolling.
She leans forward, staring at me sceptically.
"Hmmmmmm."
Come on, Rarity... Lace and Crinoline.
You know you
want to...
24th August 2012
17:30 GMT -5
"I just wanted to fit in with you and Orion. All the sons of Darkseid are wearing red this year." I nod at the empty space just in front of us. "After you."
To be fair, Kalibak's usually associated with Green, these days... But
pre-flashpoint, he did favour a particularly
bloody shade of red...
"Yes, it's legit. I still say this is a bad idea..."
BOOM!
He holds his right arm out to the tube. "After you."
Lead the way,
Tank.
"Yea-I-. I think you should go first. They're a little more likely to ask questions if they see you. I'm probably 'shoot on sight'."
"But if I go through first, they might think you're chasing me."
The lack of fearful running or harried yelling might make that a little less likely an assumption...
...But the Renegade is
still less squishy. And they would probably still shoot first, ask questions of what's left after, if
at all.
I walk through the portal, appearing in a grove on a planet quite close to New Genesis. While Apokolips has The Waste, New Genesis has protectorates. Places which rely on the gods for their defence. And worship them, and are stupefied into maintaining a low-tech civilisation aside from anything the gods grant them.
That about says it all. New Genesis: better than Apokolips. Just.
True. Less outright displays of
conquest, but they still
rule their neighbours. They just don't do it with an iron rod...
Scott flies through a moment later, then the tube shuts down. Okay, boom tubes are noisy things and easy to detect, so-.
BOOM!
Oh look, they've already noticed.
Scott braces in the air as a new tube opens over our heads, ready to jink in any direction to avoid attack. I just make a point of keeping my hands away from my weapons. Of course, this might not be Orion. If they're sending the Forever Children I'm going to be-.
Defend! / Ping.
Orion flies through, looking as Father Box told me he would. His astro-harness is grey rather than gold and he's got black trousers rather than red leggings. He's also a good deal more slender than I was expecting. He's
muscular, but he's nothing like Kalibak or myself.
So, a bit more like the post-flashpoint version. Less Kirby
block of muscle and more '
potential Wonder Woman suitor'... The
Astro-harness, for those new to the New Gods, is a combination of flight rig and energy weaponry, powered by Orion himself.
But no astro-bolts. That's a positive start.
I smile, raising my right hand. "Hail, Orion-."
He probably just wanted to make sure where the targets were... While he's not concerned with collateral damage and all, Highfather might have
words for him later.
"Apokoliptians." Unsourcely wretches! / Ping.
"You are, but I wasn't going to mention it." My smile broadens. "Now I can honestly say that I've met all of my brothers."
Note the godspeech: His
immense anger is usually held in check by a
dedicated Mother Box...
Scott straightens slightly, but he's still clearly ready to evade. "I'm only Apokoliptian because High Father traded me for you. If you're wondering, I'm not exactly happy about being handed over to the God of Tyranny."
"Leave this place. Both of you." Purge the Unclean! / Ping.
...A v
ery dedicated Mother Box. Also, not really helping your case, Scott. You're making it sounds like you're holding a grudge, and well...
I nod. "Happy to do that, but I do need to talk to you. Have you go somewhere else you'd prefer do it?"
"No. There will be no debate. Leave, and thank me for my mercy." Destroy the Apostate! / Ping.
...Orion's hatred of Apokalips and all who come from it is
infamous. I don't think he's in any way going to be sensible about this...
"Hold on." Scott rises in the air, heading slowly in Orion's direction. "Are you telling me that after all these years my father has nothing to say to-."
The astro-bolt narrowly misses his face as Orion glare at him imperiously.
Nope, not sensible at all. The only reason he missed is probably orders. Not one for
warning shots, is Orion.
"It is for his sake that I do not simply destroy you where you stand."
"Scott, I…" I shake my head. "I don't think this is going to work."
Maybe try a quieter entrance, direct into Izaya's chambers? Preferably waving whatever signs of surrender that New Genesis would recognise? Assuming he isn't like the 'Darkseid with better publicity' of the Post-Flashpoint era...
"Yeah." Scott descends, tapping his Mother Box. "I can't believe that my father passed me over for this." Poisonous Key.
BOOM!
Hmm... Interesting parting shot from Scott. Leaving a stinging reminder that will make Orion curious, or just sour grapes?
With one last look up at Orion, Scott flies through the tube back to Earth.
I linger for a moment, waiting until Orion's hands tighten around his harness's triggers.
<Sigh> Even with a totally non-threatening demeanour and outfit, The Renegade still manages to antagonise a potential ally... You just can't help yourself, can you?
"I know that of all of us, I resemble our father the most. But seeing you there, staring down at people who came to you in peace to exchange words… It's interesting to see how all of Izaya's efforts were in vain. It is you who is truly our father's son."
Mother Box quick.
You'd hate for the pony's nice work to be ruined, after all. One the upside, you did wear it
once.
Ping.
Orion's jaw is shaking in rage as he pulls the trigger, astro-bolts eating through my construct shield-
Ouch. There's burning bridges, and then there's
nuking them while you're standing on them, Renegade.
BOOM!
-as I drop through the portal to the Vega trench and close it behind me.
You just couldn't help yourself, could you?
Okay, this is roughly where Other Grayven would have to fly through to reach us in a line from his old base of operations. This is the best I can do. Ring, take us to Tamaran.
By your command.
Back to fleet preparations, and maybe some mine-laying, eh?
