Snippet #2062030

How degrading it was to have to fall back to such a lowly state. A regal member of the Uratoran Primary Family forced out of his dominant appearance of 53 meters and 44,000 tons, numbers that always impressed his more elite brothers. Whenever they were off against some gargantuan opponent of innumerable might, he would be often one of the first to rise to the challenge, and prove his worth as a bringer of the righteous law, his mastery over his varied skills as a giant peacekeeper. How he was to be apart of this new generation of his people by donning the second shade, blue, with his red on the silver body he possessed that appeared to be some kind of costume rather than an actual body.

He stood alone against a wall, arms down and his figure still very tense. He was not so quick to allow himself rest when he thirsted for justice against the scum of the stars. How great he could have been. Instead he had been reduced down to a pitiful size and forced to leave his home for a time. He forced himself to do so, but at the same time, he hated himself for having to resort to such an idea, now working under another group of cosmic policemen who he would likely have to take orders from. He'd likely be limited in his power usage, their enemies likely to be far below fifty meters in height.

Assigned to him was a being known as 'Rocket Raccoon.' A small, yet intelligent creature, yet for all the interest he gained from the stories about the champion of galactic law, he was secretly disappointed to learn it was a smaller 'critter.' Smaller than the Sheriff in base form. The disappointment wasn't all too big though. He'd get past it later once they fought alongside each other. Then there were the others within this ship, like the fellow with the wings. While the Sheriff could size down and be fairly comfortable, this fellow was stuck with his wings.

Still, he could find some way to enjoy the lounge once he grew used to this organization...