Bogeyman's forum posts
I don't blame Cyborg for not buying Miesha Tate saying she wants to fight her. This is the third or fourth time Miesha's mentioned wanting to fight Cyborg and it's never happened. Plus, how many of these fighters have claimed to want to fight Cyborg but never really pursue, never really sign the contract. Julianna Pena said she wanted to fight Cyborg. Holly Holm said she wanted to fight Cyborg. Bethe Correia said she wanted to fight Cyborg. Ronda Rousey had Dana White saying she wanted to fight Cyborg (probably just a publicity stunt to make her seem fearless and draw up interest for her comeback fight against Amanda Nunes). As a matter of fact, nobody's been dodging Cyborg the way Ronda has all these years.
All these fighters claiming they wanna fight Cyborg but they never pursue the fight. Cyborg's signed to the UFC, if they wanted to fight her they could. Anderson Silva used to fight at heavier weight classes when he was MW champion. So I never bought this excuse that Ronda couldn't fight Cyborg when she was the BW champion. She could have, and can, she just doesn't want to. None of them want to. Cyborg is the Boogeyman of the UFC female roster and they all know it. They'll never admit it but they don't want that fight. They don't want to wake up dazed with their back on the octagon floor and their face swollen and bloodied after receiving the beating of a lifetime, LOL.
I've been toying with the idea of forming a family or faction of "Jokers" similar to how the Knightfalls were a family of "Batmen". Every member'd use a different Joker look. Someone'd use Heath Ledger Joker, someone else'd use Clamp-Face Joker, someone else would use Classic Joker, someone could even use that female Joker from the alternate U. And they'd be this notorious crime family taking target cities by storm or doing whatever.
Think that's the first Joker character who actually made me even so much as giggle.
I'll be measuring him alongside the Midknighter in terms of overall quality. That's the benchmark.
That's high praise! And I really loved the way the Mercenary wrote the Midknighter.
@black_virtue: Just gotta say, I am loving the Black Virtue character.
The Godfather spoke, his voice carrying the gravitas and presence that had seen the criminal underground bow to. From his seat, the Connoisseur listened, his sharp blue eyes holding Don Corleone's in a quiet gaze as he nodded, subtly, in accordance to the terms being voiced. "Ya terms are very reasonable, Don Corleone. After all, why risk what we've worked so damn hard for cause a couple a fools decided to be a lil' stupid?", he paused, shrugging, "A Puerto Rican guy, crazy, couldn't even speak a word'a English once told me in Spanish that I can't get mad at a fool for being a lil' stupid. He told me that a fool doesn't know any bettah. I wondered if he was tryin' to save his own life when he said that shit. Talkin' about himself".
"Cause someone's who's a complete stranger's gotta be a fool if they step within six feet of my presence. Of man they don't even know. And I got hot! So BAM!", the Certified G exclaimed, abruptly clapping his hands together, "Pocket knife's out, sliced him up, left him open like a desert", he chuckled, his diamond-studded grin holding back any more laughter, "Why'd I do it? Cause him bein' a fool had nothin' to do with me. He should'a known better. And the Antidoll sistahs and their gang? They better known better too cause if they don't do their business carefully, if they f*** up too much and risk everythin' you and I are workin' for cause we'll be bailin' their cronies out of jail too much... I'll f****** lose it and they will never see the Grim Reaper's scythe comin'. They won't!", he laughed.
Ah but soon, soon the Connoisseur's laughter faded, his features abandoned their brash and swaggering cockiness and even the deranged tics of sociopathy. Gone was the Certified G who peacocked in designer suits and lavish leather trench-coats and diamond jewelry. And in place of that grandiose persona was the Connoisseur's most dangerous side; an empty man whose features wore a disturbing intensity and cast a presence of earnest dread and... and otherness. And as he spoke, there was an added bass to his voice, a colder and more foreboding quality as his grammar, his accent changed, no traces of slang or vulgarity. He was well-spoken... but terrifying, and his eyes seemed to darken, his stare more subhuman.
"Police officers, men and women believed by many to uphold justice and the law... shoot innocent and unarmed black men with no prior criminal records or offences at the scene. Random occurrences of injustice by those who uphold justice... justice is not real. There is no justice. A young child, innocent and pure, scarred and turned into a sociopath by the abusive and violent hand of an unstable parent. That innocence can be destroyed.. is because there is no innocence. Life.. is a game", he paused, his stare unblinking, the air stilled and left heavy by his words, "And if the Antidoll sisters and their thugs play it incorrectly.. the game will be over". And in an instant, as though it had never even happened, the Connoisseur's baller persona returned.
"But ya know.. maybe it won't come to that. To good business!", the Mad Pimp smiled, raising his glass of Blue Label scotch whiskey to Don Corleone.
Don Vito or Don Corleone, more infamously known as the Godfather, was a man who commanded respect. Under the neon lights and surrounded by the nightclub's overindulgent music, he cut a contrasting figure. Classy and well dressed, he walked with the flair of a man well-respected... and feared by his peers. And whereas the Connoisseur was feared for his volatile temper and violent sociopathy, the Godfather was feared for his chilling demeanor, a coldness that left one petrified. Leaned against his seat, an arm draped over the shoulder of a voluptuous redhead whose fingers playfully toyed with the diamond chains hanging around his neck, the Certified G's gaze soon fell upon the Godfather; Don Corleone.
"Aaah likewise, my man, likewise. Please, have a seat", the Connoisseur insisted, a suave smile curling as he shook the Don's hand and gestured towards a seat. Briefly glancing at the redhead by his side, the Mad Pimp grew cold and growled in her ear, "F*** outta here, go on. Vamoose! You got those pointy shoes lookin' like Aladdin on a flyin' rug right? Vamoose! F*** outta here, let a man conduct his business". Appalled and horrified, the woman, tight dress clinging to her every curve, slid out her seat and departed, cursing him under her breath, one of his bodyguard's eyes trailing her as she strode off. The Connoisseur meanwhile, returned his attention to the Godfather, one of the few living people he considered an "OG". "Can I get ya somethin' to drink?", the Connoisseur asked, quickly casting a glance at one of his bodyguards, "Bam Bam, don't just stand there, pour the Don a f****** drink, the bottle of Blue Label", he instructed.
Complying, Bam Bam, the largest of the Connoisseur's bodyguards carefully poured the Godfather a glass of Johnnie Walker's Blue Label scotch whiskey. "Now", the Certified G began, "To ensure that shit doesn't hit the fan with Gothic, I've looked into securin' an alliance with the Antidoll sistahs and their gang. They'll be my eyes and ears in Gothic and by extension, yours. They didn't ask for too much. Matter of fact, what they asked for is directly in line with the business we're conductin'. Gothic's reconstruction. We fund it. Slide in members of our gangs int'a high rankin' positions in the police force and Gothic's government. All the Antidoll sistahs ask is that we prevent their people from gettin' arrested when they get a little stupid and get caught committin' a crime".
"With Gothic's future politicians either bein' our gangsters or government pussies in our pockets for a few hundred Gs.. it'd be an easy task".