DR. VOLCANIC DEMANDS YOU READ
Name: Doctor Miles Volcanic (most likely an alias)
Gender: XY, suspected XYY(Supermale)
Species: Mutant (probably)
Sexuality: Violence. Potentially interested in women, but only if they are sufficiently violent.
Nationality: Unknown, presumably Canadian
Currently Lives: Downtown Justiceville
Languages spoken: Violence, Yelling, English, Japanese (from short career as TV series villain. Fired for murdering other actors), Yiddish
Job: Supervillain and Co-owner of Evil Incorporated.
Religious beliefs: Humans are highly flammable.
Bad habits: Smoking (when armour is left on for too long), drinking (preferably drinks with flaming ice), setting people that would otherwise be useful to him on fire.
Drug use: Attempted LSD in the 70s. Substance vaporized on contact. Charred drug dealer corpse later found in dumpster.
Weight: 418 lbs (w/o armour), 848 lbs (w/ armour)
Build: Hulking, somehow retains posture.
Hair: Impossible to tell due to flames.
Eyes: When not glowing
AloneA boy sat in front of a computer screen, alone in the darkened room. Fingers glided lightly along the keyboard, taking down complex notes in simple, truncated English. Considering the concepts, references, and irregular sentence structure, only someone with an approximate of his intellect and knowledge would be able to read it.
He adjusted his glasses. He hated the things. Simple rounded cut plastic dictated his vision's quality. While he took a slight pleasure in the effect they had on his appearance, even that was detrimental to him in public...
With a slight scoff, he caught a few errors in his notes. He hated making mistakes, too. He couldn't afford them. Of course, other people could. Other people could do whatever they damn well wanted, so long as they had something to fall back on.
Agitated now, he glanced over his shoulder at the small pile of papers he had recieved over the day. He smirked, saved his document, and approached them. The Neanderthals died out because they seldom
IntegrationIt was Iggy's birthday. Ordinarily, he didn't think much of such an occasion, but this one was special for the first time in memory. As usual, the only people there were his family, since all of his friends could only reach him through the Internet, but now he had the best location ever.
Misty. His best and only real personal friend, as well as his crush. Not only was she there for him today, but she was the "there" entirely. He had asked his father to hold the party in the Lily Mist Restaurant just for her.
Of course, she was overjoyed to have him. She had never actually been to a birthday party, despite having been the locale of a few. She all but latched onto Iggy, not wanting to miss any of the excitement. He didn't bother asking why she had to be right next to him when she could "see" everything that went on inside her, anyway.
"I've never been invited to things before!" she chirped while they sat at the bar, "So are you going to introduce me to people?"
"I'm afraid not," he repli
Kitten148 pounds of doggirl flew across the yard in pursuit of a small rubber sphere. While this was just about a daily occurrance, it was special this time because she hadn't been the one to throw it.
She had begged him all morning, and finally it worked! Master sat near their massive house, trying not to enjoy indulging her animal side. As Lillian returned with the ball, he did his best not to laugh at her.
She was holding the ball in her mouth, which was tricky for human skulls. Her saliva was thick on one side of the ball and threatened to trickle onto the rest if she got any more excited. Her tail wagged with enthusiasm.
"Lillian, you're allowed to use your hands," he told her as he carefully removed the ball from her jaws, "in fact, you should use your hands! Human bodies aren't meant for picking things up in their mouths."
"But it's fun!" she exclaimed with perked ears, "Master should try fetching!"
He regarded the drool-soaked ball with disdain. "Ehh...no, I think I should stick to m
LoyaltyHe awoke to the feeling of something warm pressed against him. It wasn't the first time. Lazily, he tried to sit up, but the slender arm across his chest tensed and drew him back. With a sigh, he removed the arm and tried again.
His pet lay beside him, on top of the covers and naked as usual. She was incorrigible. Unwilling to climb over her, the boy moved to the other side of his spacious bed and slipped out, straightening his silk pajamas.
"Lillian..." he called now that he was a safe distance away, "time to wake up. We have to talk..."
The girl on his bed gave a doggish whine, then simply rolled over and continued sleeping. He walked to his closet.
Despite the living area of the house being modelled after a typical suburban one, he allowed himself a few luxuries. For example, his closet was walk-in, lit, and mirrored, so he could change outfits in privacy. Pretending to be a fashion model was really quite an entertaining distraction.
That wasn't why he went there this time, though.
ExpansionThis was ridiculous.
Sneaking out to see her was one thing, but really? Carting lumber? What on Earth was she thinking?
Actually, Iggy was lucky to get all that he did for free. The Hensons had been planning to get rid of their rickety treehouse for a while now, so all he had to do was volunteer to do the job in exchange for the wood. If this wasn't enough, he'd have to ask the Smiths if they still wanted their old shed.
He arrived at the restaurant and brought his bike to a slow stop. He didn't want the cart he had tied it to crushing him. As soon as he stepped through that door, he'd know why he put up with three splinters and a plank to the forehead on Saturday.
Misty leaned on the bar, waiting for him. Instead of her usual waitress outfit, she was wearing a simple longsleeve white shirt with black stripes down the arms, a navy blue vest, and a similarly-coloured miniskirt that showed off her nice legs, as well as the cute pink bandage on one of them. "I missed you, Iggy," she greet