Current Residence: Pick a spot.
Favourite genre of music: Any Rock
Favourite style of art: Free style!
MP3 player of choice: Zen V
Shell of choice: The ones with Ghosts in them!
Personal Quote: Dream Big. Dream True. But most of all, Dream.
#72 Mischief Managed.Mal Risa felt restless. She hadn’t been out and about for a few weeks. The city was as it always was, bustling, crime-filled, and super-being infested. She felt herself in a bit of a…slump.#72 Mischief Managed. by Talex-1
Her previous plan had worked out perfectly.
She found the perfect sleaze at the factory. He was a skinny little late twenties worker who programmed all the main plant’s computers with their necessary information. He had direct control of a 3-D printer they used to create what they wanted, and he also was responsible for the laser mapping to project it into a program.
Mr. Sam Witt didn’t know that he was telling Mal-Risa, arch-vigilante how to execute her latest insidious plans. Well, self-serving shenanigans.
She orchestrated it as a program error, an auto-run, a test for the machinery. Sam Witt was obviously the one responsible for everything those computers did. Even little mess-ups.
Stationworks toy company was all to happy to comply with the lawsuit, wanting it shoved un
#71 Obsession.She stitched the fabric together with trained and practiced eyes. Her hands were supple with constant exercise and precise in their movements. The sewing machine whirled and clicked away as bit by bit she remade herself anew. A jacket, a pair of gloves, a vest, her cotton and spandex pants, all full of her hidey holes and secret pockets for her tricks of the trade.#71 Obsession. by Talex-1
Her boots came next. The soles large to add more space, but still allow her to move with agility. She’d need it.
Her hat came last. She wanted that to be perfect. A top hat was a distinguishing feature, and she wanted it to be the proverbial crown of the whole set.
Her bags of goblin dust, her hand cuffs, her cameras, her handkerchiefs, her smoke pellets, her Chakram, her knives, her cell phone, everything from head to toe that she owned was split down the middle in a equal capacity.
All crimson and cream colored.
Did she need it?
But the thought of Mal-Risa owning anything not stamped with her signature was almos
#66 Traps.It took a lot of money to be a super…whatever. Villains needed to fund their nefariousness, and Heroes needed it to go about spreading their benevolence. Vigilantes were no different.#66 Traps. by Talex-1
Mal-Risa, Rocilyn Lysander, had a apartment in one of the worst places in Century Station. Not that she couldn’t hold her own, it’s just a girl needed things to really kick start her career.
Normally, someone would scream ‘GET A JOB!’ and leave it at that. But Mal-Risa was a cape and costume sort of gal, so that just made her roll her eyes.
Steal it? Sure, robbing a bank was all good fun and etcetera, but who HADN’T done that? Everyone robbed the banks. Same with jewelry stores, and anywhere things were valuable. Mal-Risa was no petty thief. At least, not in a little way. Well…getting off topic here.
What was she gonna do? She needed a heist that would spread fame and infamy whilst being clever and witty and at the same time not labeling her some horrible bank r
I Write.Not to make a perfect world,I Write. by Bbburn
But to find beauty in our flawed one.
Because It makes me feel like a god,
I can create mountains,
And then destroy them.
I don't like this world,
So I create my own.
Because I want to prove emotions exist,
I want to make people scream, cry, throw things, all because of my words.
On the off chance I can create something just a little more than words on a page.
Because no one really listens,
When I talk.
Because I'm in love with the sound the keys make when you type,
And the way the pencil moves over paper.
Because I want people to care about my characters,
The way I care about theirs.
Because I can't live forever,
But I can create something that will.
Because I want to change the world.