[IC] Rampant: A Superhero/ Supervillain RP

[Horrid]

THE PARKING GARAGE

The sudden gunfire from The Chairmen fell upon her quickly. Quicker than she was able to react to with significant effect. No split-second movements, no cool Neo-like dodges and certainly no quips or one-liners. The Chairman's first bullet flew fast. She was luckier than some, but not lucky enough, she thought as one of the lead projectiles collided with her and tore through her right shoulder cleanly in a spurt of red. The pain of it hit her suddenly and sharply, sending her stumbling to the side as the thugs behind her adversary drew their weapons in turn and began firing.

At least, that she was ready for. With a twist of her torso and a thrust of her left arm, the air in front of her hand warped and pushed outwards with a low, harmonic 'WH-MMM'. A cloud of red energy formed a wall-like construct in front of her for an instant before dissipating. One could almost watch as the bullets rebounded weakly, bouncing away to the ground in different directions. The repulsion of the bullets bought Star Ruby enough time to make a mad dive/glide for one of the Garage's many pillars.

Her shoulder throbbed angrily at her, seeping bright red onto her already bright red suit in a slow trickle. At least the shot was clean, she thought. Lord help her if the shot got stuck or worse, fragmented within her. Head aglow with crimson energy, it hid her grimace well as she leaned around and threw a triad of red energy bolts along the floor with a series of high-pitched 'VZSH' sounds. These bolts weren't charged, and would be purely force, intent on knocking the thugs over or away.

@Polyphemus
@Musoka
@Nohbody

[Marik]

The Highway, approaching Detroit

The cityscape stood out like a sword embedded in a body, towering as a monument to its intrepid accomplishment. Accomplishment’s built on the backs of spineless worms, putrid insects that currently fed off the corpse of the land. The very idea that the people he once warred with roamed the streets made Dean sick. The empire that they now held was powerful, but soon it would all fall. He just needed the right tools for the job…

The TAG Ruins

The abandoned halls of the empty base were chilling. It was a testament to just how far everything had fallen. The very idea that a superior military organization could be decimated by a group of thugs was the worst part of it all. Nothing remained, no soldiers, no guns, nothing. The building barely stood to begin with, its walls crumbling from constant abuse of battles long past. Dean had known it was bad; the death of the founder must have taken a large chunk out of the force, but completely gone? No, there must be something, somebody…

Dean’s Apartment

Opening the door revealed similar visions to his last location. The small dwelling was dark and dusty from almost a year of neglect. Despite his complicated line of work, Dean’s apartment was fairly average; a living area with a television, a small kitchen, bedroom and bath. There wasn’t much he needed from this place; this visit was turning into an emotional pilgrimage more than anything. What Dead did need though, he packed. Some clothing, money, and the spare pistol he kept in this location.

Nightclub Paradox

Dean brushed off his tee shirt and jeans, getting used to the comfort of normal clothes again. The bright neon of Nightclub Paradox glowed at such a ferocity that proved to blind anyone who entered for at least the first few moments. If that wasn’t enough, blaring techno tracks burst from the speakers that lined the walls; enjoyable to most, annoying to some. Dean was in the minority here, he had never taken to spending his free time mingling in places like this, and he didn’t intend to start now. He was looking for someone, a man, a former contact.

Ellis Barkly was predictable, he always came to Paradox to hound on young women, and almost always got shot down. Tonight was one of those days, as he currently sat slumped at the bar with a beer in hand. While he was terrible with women, the guy was amazing at getting information. If he didn’t know something in Detroit, then nobody did. “Nice night, eh Ellis?” Taking the seat next to his old acquaintance, Dean waved away the bartender for privacy. The very sight of the newly freed convict was enough to send Ellis white. The half-drunk man paused, unsure of how to approach this situation. “Dean… It’s so good to see you brother!” While Ellis grinned, it was a very unnatural and nervous one; his friendliness wasn’t genuine, but Dean felt no comradery for this man anyway.

“Cut the shit Ellis. You know why I am here. TAG, where are they? What has happened?” Ellis gulped. His original tactic wasn’t going to work here, something he hadn’t planned on. Taking a swig of his beer for some artificial courage, a newfound air of confidence overtook him. “Hey, I don’t gotta tell you shit man. I work for the Angels now! They run this city, and there ain’t shit you or your soldiers can do about it! Go and die like that useless shit Hitam di-“ Before he could say another word the cold steel of Dean’s pistol was pressing into his side. Conveying no emotion, Dean looked into his terrified eyes; he knew what he had to do if he wanted to live today.

A Warehouse by The Docks

Dean pulled into the location provided by Ellis, a small warehouse on the rim of the city. From the outside, it looked fairly ordinary. This was good, they needn’t draw unwanted attention. Exiting his car, Dean continued on to the large garage door, knocking. A moment passed, and then another, but then the door swept open, with it a squad of fully armored men taking aim at their guest. “Wait, is that… Stand down!” The order from the back of the group willed the soldiers to drop their weapons back to their sides. Spreading apart, a woman walked forward, a smirk on her face. “Dean Nakamura… I knew they couldn’t keep you cooped up in that hellhole forever!” The two came in for a hug, and for once in his life Dean had a reason to be joyful.

Bailey Harrows was a Lieutenant back when rank meant something in this broken order. The woman had looked just as he remembered; tall and fit with a mane or red hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her blue eyes shimmered like sapphire, a contrast to the two scars that lined her right cheek. She wasn’t one to be put down by that though, they were considered badges of war more than anything. “I’m glad that prison didn’t break you. We were coming for you, I hope you know that. We’ve just been… preoccupied.” Looking around, one could see that they were a fragment of what they used to be. Only around half a dozen armored cars littered the space, along with various crates. It was underwhelming, and Bailey knew that.

“How many of us are there?” A grimace came over the girl. “Last headcount was 32.” Dean nods, walking deeper into the facility and taking a seat on a crate. “That is a problem. It is good that we are very good at fixing problems. Load everything into the trucks, we are leaving Detroit.”

[Weird Tales]

Sea Bastard and his crew gave howls of triumph at their victory and began firing their pistols and firearms into the air in celebration. The Bloody Dane rammed through several cars as they sailed down the main city road headed towards the beach of lake eerie. The ship entered the shallow waters of the great lake and sailed away from the land.

"A fine act of pillaging indeed" Jack said to himself as he steered the ship deeper into the lake.

----

After getting the animals back in their pens Drake was expecting to be arrested, but the guardsman said that they was time enough for them to get away before the authorities knew what happened. He took off into the air as quick as possible and left the zoo behind him. Today had not been the best of days for him.

[RainDash]

Grace had barely made the scene when she was swarmed by bored reporters, all asking many questions. They were all probing and she had to give them something more than silence or they would think she was hiding something when she wasn't. So she looked at the reporters and said, "at this point in time I have no information regarding your questions."

Grace bowed out of the swarm of reporters and managed to catch a glimpse of a yellow mask that was the trademark of Mr. Nice Guy. In the fact that he was here, investigating this empty house, something more was amiss. Mostly though, why was no one here at all? The ajar door and empty garage had to mean something more was happening here. Not to mention, Mr. Nice Guy was based in Toledo. There was something happening and from the look of how Mr. Nice Guy was standing and beckoning, it was urgent.

Grace walked over to him, brushing aside the reporters and wasting no time.

"Hello, Mr. Nice Guy," Grace said, getting her nerves out of the way. She couldn't help but be a fan of a few superheroes, most notably Pokerface and Mr. Nice Guy. She wish she was meeting him under better circumstances. "So... do you know anything about why the Hardesty home is empty?"

@Polyphemus

[Brodie]

DOWNTOWN CLEVELAND

Digby was very confused upon waking from his nap.

Digby's Bridgeview Apartment
8:00 AM EDT
Digby awoke to the smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs filling his apartment. He knew who was responsible for these amazing aromas that woke him from his sleep, Mother. "Shes at it again." He thought to himself as he got up and headed to the bathroom. Mother was not supposed to be on her feet, let alone cooking. He had tried to tell he this but it just earned him a slap across the head and her life mantra "I'm Old not Dead, so leave me alone." When he left the bathroom and entered into the kitchen area, she was sitting at the counter reading some newspaper and drinking tea. "Did you hear about the break out, I wonder if the prisoners are okay?" She said in her sweet southern accent. It always amazed him how she could find a way to care for everyone. "Yes, but should you really be worried about the villains?" Digby said as he got his food. "Well they are people too. Maybe they just need someone to listen." Digby shook his head at this and looked at the stove clock. It was 8:00 and he had to be at work by 11:30. He scarfed his food down and thanked the cook. He got dressed and was about to head out the door to Starbucks when he heard her say, "Digby don't you go down to that coffee place and sleep again. You were late last time, and you know I hate gettin' those phone calls from the University askin' all these question. You bess get there on time and don't be late ya hear, I still need a place to stay." He turned to her and said a polite "Yes Mama" before leaving.

Starbucks, Public Square
9:00 AM EDT
When he arrived at his favorite Starbucks in Cleveland, he saw the owner, Grives. Grives had owned this Starbucks since Digby was young and he was a generous man. He gave jobs to college students and even high school kids in the summer. He gave Digby a job and they had been friends ever since. When Grives saw Digby he already knew that he wanted a Java Chip with extra chocolate and no whipped cream (Digby thought whipped cream was too much trouble to have to eat). Digby went over to his favorite seat and his drink arrived not too soon after. He paid, laid down, got his phone, and started to watch Tom and Jerry. He began to fall asleep and eventually he knocked out.

Public Square
10:30 AM EDT
When he awoke, Digby was covered in wood, debris, glass, ashes. He looked around and the store was in shambles. There were holes in the walls, some the size of boulders others the size of bullets. Half of the door was missing, and the roof had almost caved in. The marquee counter was now just a pile of shot up wood. Surprisingly the couch he was on was only burnt black a little. He had been cut up by the loose glass and wood. As he began to get up he stepped over what was left of the table, he could see some bodies and parts sticking out from here and there. "I hope Mother didn't do this because I slept over again." He said aloud to himself. "No it was not her this time." The voice came from behind a fallen beam. When he got behind it, he saw Grives. Grives had a large Cutlass in his chest; he was sitting on the floor with a shotgun in one hand and shells in the other. "It was those damn Pirates; they came through here shooting up Public Square. Then the police got involved and it turned into an even bigger mess." He coughed op blooded as he told his story. "Then mid-fight they backed off and left the heroes out to dry. The Pirates ran through here real quick, one of them came in here and tried to cause a fuss. I tried to stop him but he had other ideas as you can see." He gestured to the sword impaled in his chest. Digby reached up to pull it out but Grives stopped him. "Don't do that, just go kid. Head back to your mom and get some place safe." Digby knew he was not dead yet but those were his final words. So he got up and headed to the door to get out side. The moment he took a step onto the side walk he felt a pain shoot though his right leg; he had a large piece of glass sticking through his upper leg. “Aww shit! Well this is just great" He thought to himself. He looked around and what Grives had said was true. It looked like World War III had come through Downtown Cleveland. There was smoke everywhere; some stores were on fire, others full of cannon and bullet holes. The smell of ash ad gun powder could be smelt. Public Square was no more. The memorial statue was all but gone, the grass and trees were burnt to a crisp black and nothing was left but the dirt. All around him could see bodies of police officers, civilians, and some pirates too. He looked down Ontario St. and saw a large gathering of red and blue lights. He began to limp in that direction. When he finally arrived he saw that there was police, EMT's, the fire department, and the local news. He saw three black trucks and knew that is where the heroes were being held. An EMT came up to him, "Sir you need help sit down and I’ll get that out of your leg." Digby sat down on the floor and let the man work. He cringed when the glass came out but that is about it. "What is in those trucks?" Digby asked as he pointed at the three large black trucks with tinted windows. "I think they have some of the pirates in those trucks, at least that's what the detective told me." He knew that this was a lie so after the man was done with his stitches he got up and walked over to the trucks. Digby got his goggles out and put them on. He set them on day light mode. Then he opened his palms and focused light into his hand. He made a small cube of light, no bigger than marble. Then he pointed it at the trucks, and launched the cube. It moved as fast as a bullet and the moment it touched the middle truck the cube exploded in a flash of bright light. When the light subsided, people were walking around rubbing their eyes, they could not see and would not be able to for a few more minutes. Digby limped over to the trucks, avoiding the blind pedestrians, and when he reached the middle one he opened the back door. In the middle seat with hand cuffs on was Grand Slam. Then he went to the next truck to the right, in that car was Dervish. And coming around the last car held Damselfly. They gathered in front of the three vehicles. "Now listen we don't have much time left, and even less time to talk. So grab your things and let’s get out of here before my flash-bang wears off. Oh and by the way, the name's King."