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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Dedonus
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Dedonus Kai su teknon;

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Kelly Brown | Samantha "Sammy" Kadowsky | Zac Wilson

“We need to talk. I’m sure that you’ve heard about the situation in Lost Haven. We need your help to stop it.” The man sitting on the couch, who was dressed down in an entirely black costume, growled impatiently. The woman right next to him tried to provide some tact in the conversation, but Lyger continued to rush to the main point as he revealed their knowledge of Zac and Kelly being kidnapped and taken to West Virginia.

“For starters.” Zac began his response, “It sounds like you two knew an awful lot about my girlfriend and I, but we have no idea who you two are. How can we know that we can trust you two?”

Radiance continued her attempt at counterbalancing Lyger’s blunt and straightforward approach to this little recruitment mission. She even made a little dig at her associate when she claimed that at least she was sorry about breaking into their apartment. When she was about ready to finish speaking, Radiance pulled out her trump card, hoping it could alleviate Zac, Kelly, and Sammy’s concerns about the two ‘intruders’ motivations.

"Icon said that he thought you might be able to help." Radiance finally admitted.

“Well, Icon did help us out in Lost Haven that one time.” Kelly thought out loud as she considered what Radiance had said, “If Icon is involved with this, maybe would should trust them.”

“I don’t know.” Zac replied to his girlfriend, “Although we did mention that we were from Albany, we never told him where we lived exactly. Something feels a little off.”

While Zac and Kelly were having a short conversation about how they should proceed, Sammy slipped over to the side of the couch and leaned up against the arm that was closest to Lyger. “So…I can tell that you’re a cat-themed superhero from your costume. But are you a cat person?” For a moment, there was a short pause. After quickly thinking about what ‘cat person’ could mean, especially with herself in mind, Sammy immediately qualified her comment.

“Oh, I don’t mean ‘cat person’, like someone like me, but, you know, a cat person”. Sammy twirled her cat tail in her hand as she tried to avoid any confusion that she wasn’t asking him whether he was spliced with cat DNA, but rather whether he liked cats. “I mean, Bruce Wayne dressed up like a bat despite he was scared silly by them.”

“Okay. We’ll come along, but we have our own conditions. First, tell us who you two are. Second, tell us how the heck you found us. And third, our friend here is coming with us, too. If she doesn't go, we don't go.”
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by FacePunch
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FacePunch Death Comes

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Somewhere in Lost Haven

"I prefer the term sexually active." Thunderbolt complained. "But sure, insult the man who saved your life." The two speedsters glanced at each other wearily as Pendragon started shouting into the air. "Who...Who are you talking to?" Boom asked. Her question was answered in the form of a woman appeared before them, seemingly out of nowhere. Thunderbolt jumped, frightened by her sudden arrival. He tried to play it off as nothing and listened as the two ladies conversed. The giant tentacled dinosaur was (apparently) something called a "Thorian Thrasher" and seemed to be some sort of magical entity. This woman, who looked like a slutty Gandalf cosplayer to Harvey, admitted to having brought the creature here. The two speedsters stood silently by and tried to piece together what the actual hell was going on. It was quite a confusing mess, but their objective was clear enough when slutty Gandalf revealed the beast's primary weakness: a gem, buried within its disgusting body. In the background, the monster was beginning to rise to its feet once more, its regeneration proving extremely annoying to deal with.

Yet, the Swordswomen started another conversation with some unseen, unheard being. Thunderbolt and Boom, standing behind Pendragon, attempted to communicate their confusion to each other through a series of ridiculous hand gestures. It wasn't until the girl abruptly turned around that the two froze, with Boom attempting to look as nonchalantly at the obviously insane woman as possible. "Magic. Yeah. Of course." Boom said with a nod. She looked over Pendragon's shoulder at her brother, and Thunderbolt gave her an assuring thumbs up. "Not that your plan isn't...workable, but I think it'd be a good idea to...expand upon it. Just a bit. I'll knock that thing on its ass while you use chop up its insides and look for that gem. Thunderbolt'll run interference for us and keep the...Thrasher...from blindsiding us. Sounds good? Alright. Here we go!"

Thunderbolt was the first to run in. He waved his hands around like an idiot and shouted at the Thorian Thrasher in an effort to get its attention. "Hey! Over here! Look at me, ya stupid lizard!" When the dinosaur turned its attention to Harvey, Laura disappeared in the opposite direction. A second and a half later, she appeared on the other side of the street, slamming into the back of the Thorian's right leg with her shoulder. But the monster only stumbled. Thunderbolt stopped dodging the Thrasher's tentacles and jumped up, punching it right in the nose. While the lizard was temporarily stunned, Thunderbolt dashed over to its other leg. He rotated his hands at mach 600, effectively turning them into superheated plasma chainsaws. Harvey then plunged his arms into the Thorian Thrasher's leg and sliced it in half. The behemoth fell to the ground with a loud crash. Boom went to work ripping into its stomach in a similar fashion to Thunderbolt's earlier attack, hoping that Pendragon was doing the same somewhere else. Thunderbolt stayed near the front of the creature's maw, pulling off its rapidly regenerating tentacles at lightning speeds. Once its face was turned to mush, he raced to the back of the monster and sliced its tail off.

"I found it!" Boom shouted. She grabbed the bright crystal from its place in the moving, contorting mass of flesh, attempting to pull it out. But the thing wouldn't budge. "Thunderbolt, I need-" She began; but her brother was there before she could finish speaking. He grabbed Laura by her waste and tugged with her. The two speedsters fell backwards as the gem became dislodged, a giant tentacle still attached to the shiny, slim covered rock. The moment the 'master tentacle' left the Thorian Thrasher's body, however, all hell broke loose. Tentacles shot out in all directions from its writhing corpse, latching on to anything it could and pulling it into the center of its fleshly mass. "Holy crap!" Thunderbolt shouted as he batted away a hundred tentacles a second. Boom tried to do the same, but she wasn't quick enough to fend them all off and found herself being dragged by dozens of tentacles towards what remained of the Tyrannosaurus Rex wannabe. Her screamed alerted Harvey to his sister's peril. The speedster rotated his arms as rapidly as he could, creating hurricane-force winds and throwing the grabbers off of Boom. "I've seen enough henta-" He began to quip, only for Boom to smack him upside the head. "DON'T. YOU. DARE." Thunderbolt blushed. "Sorry. I got carried away- Hey, where's Pendragon?"

The two speedsters turned, hearing something that sounded like "Bloody" and "Pay attention" and a possible "twats." Thunderbolt climbed over the Thrasher's body, dodging its tentacles to find Pendragon struggling toward the gem. She sliced a good chunk of flesh off the master tentacle, but couldn't finish the job before the tentacles wrapped around her and dragged the teenager away. Thunderbolt danced around the monster's graspers and yanked the gem off the tentacle where Pen had done the most damage. Everything stopped. The tentacles fell to the ground, lifeless and dead. Thunderbolt tossed the gem to Pendragon and gave her a salute before going to check on his sister. "Are you-" He began, but she stopped him with a wave. "I'm fine. Really. How's Pendragon?" Thunderbolt shrugged. "No worse for wear; but she looks pretty pissed."

The two speedsters regrouped with Pendragon after a moment's respite. Harvey placed his hand behind his head and smiled awkwardly. "Sorry about earlier." He said. That looked to be the end of it, but one super-speed glance at Boom told Harv that he wasn't done yet. "You're just..pretty stunning. Well, both 'pretty' and 'pretty stunning,' but- Uhhh. You look older than you sound. So I'd like to apologize for making advances on you. Didn't know you were so young. It was really out of place. And. Uhm." Boom stepped in at that point. "If you're ever in trouble, give us a call and we'll be there faster than you can say 'Help.' That's a guarantee." Laura handed Pendragon a business card with their superhero names at the top and a phone number across the bottom. The cellphone it connected to was a specially made, untraceable phone they had designed specifically for contact with other heroes.

"Oh, but don't use your real phone unless you absolutely have to. Try a burner or a public phone. We don't want to know who you really are." Boom added.

"We gotta go. Like, now. The world still need's saving. We'll see you around." The two speedsters gave the girl a wave before disappearing in a flash of bright light and a cloud of smoke.




Undisclosed Location
A Few Minutes Later


The speedster's timing was less than impeccable. They were the last two to arrive, almost a full minute after Iron Knight had said "we." They came running in, a trail of torn up dirt and grass rocketing into the sky behind them as they attempted to stop. "There was traffic." Thunderbolt quipped, strolling forward confidently. Boom, however, was leaning over with her hands on her knees. "Never ran...so fast...before.." She wheezed. When Laura recovered after thirty or so seconds, she joined the rest of the team surrounding War-Pulse. She tried to look as passive as possible. But on the inside? She was winded and nervous. Perhaps even a little frightened. Her usual confidence and aggressive behavior was not as evident as usual. She'd just finished the most taxing run of her life, right after an intense battle with a tentacle monster and an entire night out with Brooklyn.

To add to all of that, she might have to fight a mercenary as strong as Icon. The rest of these clowns were at least on par with this 'Winter Soldier' guy. But Boom? She wasn't even on their tier. Her only hope is that War-Pulse would focus on the rest of them while she hung back, only intervening when entirely necessary. Even then, she wouldn't be much help. And if War-Pulse decided to attack her, she didn't doubt that he could put a hole in her chest.

In conclusion: Today sucked.
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by fdeviant
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fdeviant Witch o' the Wood

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8 Months Ago


“Who do you think she could be?” Madalena questioned Marie as they walked down the busy streets of Lost Haven. She picked up a newspaper from a stand outside a convenience store and began flipping through its pages, scanning for any information regarding the White Witch of Chinatown. Lost Haven was littered with articles and stories of her many strange and super-powered citizens, but even here magic was a rarity. It didn’t take long for the White Witch to make her front-page debut in some of the more affluent and respected newspapers and websites. Her charms had captivated the city’s west coast, and the surrounding areas were quick to spread the news of her arrival in Lost Haven. Marie smiled as Madalena read out article after article, sighting after sighting. She had succeeded in concealing her identity and keeping the entirety of Chinatown in constant awe and confusion of her. She was proud of herself, but this pride and self gratification were not unwarranted, for not only was her identity masterfully concealed, her presence in that part of the city had lessened criminal activity significantly.

“Marie?” Madalena prodded her shoulder as they made their way into Shadow of the Moon.

“Hm?” Marie responded lazily, her mind still wandering.

“Who do you she is, the White Witch?”

“Madalena, there are thousands of people in this city, how am I to know which ones are moonlighting as superheroes on their day off?”

“Yikes, she’s testy in the mornings.” Madalena joked, rearranging a few of the shelves before going to the office at the back of the shop. She poked her head out of the door and said, “You gonna open for me or sit there daydreaming?”

“Fight me,” Marie called backed as she went to the window and turned on the tacky neon “open” sign. She took her place behind the counter and began carefully flipping through the pages of an old tome, making sure to keep it hidden from Madalena. She then produced a small, leather bound journal from a box behind the counter and began copying down certain entries within the tome. She laughed internally at the fact that, as an employee, she essentially had “dibs” on just about anything in the store, within reason. Marie copied down a variety of folk magics used to keep away intruders, stop rain, induce illness and misfortune, small chants and spells that might be useful to her as White Witch. This went on for about an hour until she was interrupted by the ringing of a bell, the one stationed above the store entrance.

Shadow of the Moon had several repeat customers but rarely saw new business. Marie was surprised to see someone strolling into the shop so early. The customer was a man of normal height and medium build with brown eyes and dark, stylish, brown hair. His clothes were dark and complemented his sharp, angular features. He was rather attractive and Marie stood inactive for several moments before realizing she was staring.

“Welcome,” she greeted him in a low voice, “Can I help you find anything?” Her ability to socialize with customers wasn’t up to Madalena’s level or expectations, but the anxiety she once felt over having to deal with another person had lessened in her time working there.

“I’m fine, thanks,” he responded, continuing to wander around the shop, fiddling with hanging items, flipping through the occasional book, picking up varied artifacts and items strewn all about the shop. Marie watched him make his rounds until he made his way to the counter, looking at the assorted candles and jewelry to the left of the register. He looked over at the open tome in front of Marie, his brow raised. He pointed at the book, “Mind if I take a look?”

Marie spaced out for a moment before realizing what was happening. She muttered something incoherent, then shook her head, closing the tome and placing it behind the counter. “S-sorry, that one’s not for sale.”

The man shrugged, “Shame.” He stood in front of the register but continued to survey the store. “Got anything a little older in here? These books are all pretty contemporary and I’m not really a New Ager.” Marie seemed taken aback by his question. Most of the store’s customers were content with New Age books and Llewellyn publishing, but she supposed that most customers were never exposed to the type of information she was.

Marie nodded, “We have a few copies of the Books of Moses and similar grimoires in the back, but they haven’t been priced yet.”

“Huh,” he chuckled, “that it?” This wasn’t the first time Marie had dealt with a traditionalist looking to bash the new age scene or criticize the store’s inventory, but she got the feeling that this wasn’t an ordinary case of magical elitism.

“Umm, i-if you’re looking for something else then maybe we can order it for you? You can send a request on our website or look through the linked catalogs on our homepage . . .” the bell rang again as another man walked into the store. Marie shifted herself and looked past the one standing before her to see the other customer. Marie began to welcome the second customer, but fear held her tongue. For the slightest of moments, Marie saw a terrifying image. A tall, black shadow moved through the doorway into the shop, a hazy mist collecting around its shape. From the darkness, Marie saw two long arms that sported long, black, spindly talons, and a face as dark and cold as death, with a gaping jaw fitted with three rows of jagged teeth. Marie gasped, but in the blink of an eye, the ghastly figure was traded for an unassuming, middle-aged man with tanned skin and graying hair.

“Joseph,” the man called out. The first customer turning around to face the man. “It’s time to go.” Joseph turned back to Marie, after having witnessed each of her expressions.

“I’ll keep in touch,” he said as he followed the man out of the shop. Madalena walked in from the office as he left.

“Who was that? He was kind of cute.”

Marie shook her head, still staring at the entrance, “I don’t know. . .” Her voice trailed off. What just happened? she thought, her limbs shaking as a cold shiver continued to go up and down her spine. What the hell is hiding in Lost Haven?
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by VATROU
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VATROU The Barron

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Clearly the two Speedsters thought she was mad, which couldn’t really be helped. As the two flushed out their plan Arthur spoke to her. “These two seem capable.” Eva without turning replied back.”Well one of them is, the other needs to keep his pants on.”

With Thunderbolt and Boom speeding off Eva sighed. And ran off after them as the two began to bring the beast down vibrating their hands to cut into it’s flesh digging for the gem. Eva had found a place where she was hacking away but in no time Boom had found the glowing gem as she tried to tug it from the beast when her brother sped to her side and unleashed an hell upon the street. It was a hard fought battle as the remains of the creature was thrown into a frenzy but the three heroes had soon put an end to this chaos. While Thunderbolt checked in on his sister Eva held the gem curiously as a voice began whispering into her ear. “Go on. Destroy it, before it regenerates. It’s nothing but a monster..”

For what it was worth the voice wasn’t wrong the Throrian Thrasher was dangerous, and if it could come back from this gem like state everything the three had done would be for naught. But a thought lingered in the back of her mind. Merlin brought this creature here, as dangerous as it was it never wanted to be here. Would destroying it be the morally right thing to do? Before she could answer that herself the two Speedsters had walked up to her. With Thunderbolt both apologizing and trying to flatter her as Boom cut him off. “Your brother can’t keep it in his pants can he.” She quipped to Boom. Boom handed Eva a nicely printed card professionally made with their hero names and a call number like what you’d expect from top tier heroes. With that over the two raced off elsewhere leaving Eva to ask what to do with the gem.

Merlin. You brought this creature here against it’s will. Return it.” Eva said demandingly.

A low echoing of laughter could be heard throughout the alley as the Police began cordoning off the area to repair the damages. It wouldn’t be long until they’d be entering the scene. “It’d be easier to destroy it you know. It wouldn’t take more than a swing.” Eva looked into the gem.”That’s what you’d want isn’t it. It never wanted to be here not in the least.”

Maybe. But it didn’t have a choice..” There was a short silence as sirens blazed closer. “Keep it then, consider it - a gift. I’m sure it’ll be thankful.”

With not more than a wave of her hand the alleyway that they were in was restored back to what it was. Not a sign of destruction that had just taken place. As the Police finally rushed into the scene knowing that supers had just dispatched the beast they saw nothing. No heroes standing in the alley, no remains of a beast and nothing out of the ordinary.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by NeutralNexus
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NeutralNexus

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In space, in the deep, dark, soothing silence of vast reaches of space, the eternal void sat. It drifted along aimlessly in the vacuum, mulling over its previous encounter with humanity. How amusing they had turned out to be, what interesting and strange ways had they developed. Through whatever fate may have it, these ‘metahumans’ truly had surpassed the limitations of their race. They had potential, the future of their puny civilization extended far beyond the reaches of its technological inferiority. Truly, there was something about them that continued to gather the intrigue of the endless shadow.

And yet, in one moment, its train of thought was broken, something had disrupted the soundless vacuum, a ripple in reality caused the endless shadow to shift and fluctuate, its obsidian from flowing through the nothingness to turn its attention to the source.

An asteroid perhaps? A comet drifting aimlessly through space?

No, nothing of the sort. In fact it was something else entirely. The threads of time and space moved with it, flowed through it, and it was bringing something with it. This new entity, this visitor to its realm, it had not felt something like that in what felt like eternity.

And yet, the everlasting blackness considered this nothing more than a spec, an unusual one, but nothing more than an insect flying towards its doom.

Still, Umbraxis would be hard pressed not to give it a welcome for coming this far. After all, who would have thought any denizen of Earth could even survive the vacuum of space?

It spoke to the intruder in its true void, its thoughts seeping into the mind, wrapping around their very soul and hearkening into the deepest depths of their consciousness. To most mortals, it would be unbearable and incomprehensible, a tearing of the soul that would result in their very body being torn apart by the entity’s very voice.

To the traveler, it was merely a message; Who are you, and why do you come to me?

The message grew more clear with each passing second, the reverberations enhancing in intensity, to the point where its very words would tear a mortal body apart. As it spoke, its form shifted and groaned, swelling and expanding to cover the stars around them.

Who are you, and what do you bring to me?

The uttering shifted as it repeated, the sound of millions of voices combined together in one unyielding bass tone, ripping into the space all around the visitor to convey its messages. The darkness grasped and snared, blotting out the light of the sun as it encapsulated the intruder. The creeping shadow etched ever closer, and its words boomed through what should not even carry any sound.

Who are you, and why do you court your own annihilation?
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by The Fair Lady
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The Fair Lady

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I am Mercy.

I am the World's Chosen.

Now I must defend it.

I soar through the vastness of space by my will alone. It is strange for until now I had always assumed I had to breath. I spare a moment's thoughts for the ramblings I had heard and felt when I saved others and brought healing. Some had called me divine. Could it be? I need not breath, I need not eat, I need not sleep, my will directs the very World. Perhaps there is something to their words? But there is little time for such rambling thoughts as I near the great corruption where it floats amidst the stars.

Perhaps it would be invisible against the darkness of space. Perhaps it was invisible to those who do not see as I see. But to me it is clear, the vast web of dark threads, of toxic contagion, of annihilation, all of which pulse and throb in a grotesque network. Compared to this the cancer is benign, the parasites symbiotes, the sickness that had invaded Lost Haven a common cold. This was vast and malignant beyond words, and it was... I feel surprise as the sickness pulses and flows towards me directed not by chance but by will. I see it now that have I come closer, the will that dwells within the coils of death and destruction, the will that now speaks to me.

It seethes, it rages, I feel it around and within. But I am strong and I find myself responding as if from instinct. My will hardens solidifies, the sickness' tendrils only brush against it and slip away imparting words to me but little else. It demands, it demands, such arrogance from a sickness, a corruption. I will end this abomination, this cancer with a mind of its own. I do not respond to its demands, instead continuing my approach even as the dark threads begin to close around me.

It demands again, and again, growing louder, more insistent. But I refuse. I feel the pressure upon my will growing as the sickness laps against my form but finds no purchase. I feel more tendrils engulf what I had brought with me and my lips form a grim smile. I marshal my will behind the wall within and ready myself even as the corruption swarms around me.

Then I act. I throw aside the shield and my own will and voice resounds. "I am Mercy. And I bring your doom Pestilence!" I issue a name, the truest that comes to mind, for surely this must be the architect of all sickness, of all the plagues that could have come, sickness with a will, sickness that truly lives, and so I name it.

I release it all now, sparking chain reactions in the massive reservoir of matter that I brought with me. Annihilation. I hate to destroy but in the destruction there is cleansing. To those upon the World far below it must seem that a second sun has been born in the sky as the waves of radiation and a cosmic storm sweeps outwards into the Pestilence.

I am Mercy.

I have brought the World's Wrath.

Has it been enough?
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by nitemare shape
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nitemare shape GM of Create A Hero and Star Wars: Legacies

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When Icon had left the meeting in Settler’s Clearing, he had been uneasy. Not only had Christopher Arthur the 3rd somehow figured out his secret identity, but it was apparent that this guy was working with STRIKE. After the few encounters with STRIKE that Icon did have, he knew very little of the organization, but he didn’t trust them, and now that someone on their payroll had deduced his identity, Icon knew that he had a problem…a big problem. He and Arthur would have words, that much was clear, however, now was not the time. There were bigger problems to deal with, namely this so called Pax Metahumana.

However, even before they could deal with that, they had to talk to War-Pulse, and hopefully sway him to their side. Unfortunately, he didn’t know if that was even a possibility. The mercenary was known to only show loyalty to the highest bidder, but Icon hoped that Arthur would be able to appeal to War-Pulse’s humanity, the very same humanity that had forced the merc to intervene during D-Day. The fate of the world was at stake that night, and it looked to be again now. It was for this reason, and this reason alone that Icon was willing to play along with Arthur now. Icon may not have trusted him or STRIKE, but he knew that working together was the best way to stop the madman who planned to detonate a meta bomb in the city.

A couple of hours had passed since the meeting in the woods. Icon had searched the city, along with Arthur who had now donned the armor of The Iron Knight, for the mercenary. Finally, it had seemed that Arthur’s sources had panned out. Off in the distance, he could see a glowing light in the sky, one that to the unassuming observer might be mistaken for some sort of UFO, but with his keen vision, Icon could see that it was simply a man…their man.

War-Pulse.

Icon fell back and let Iron Knight take the lead as they approached the mercenary. In fact, Icon let Arthur approach War-Pulse by himself. Arthur had suggested, and Icon agreed that perhaps it was best if they didn’t make the merc feel cornered.

At least not at first.

Staying out of sight, and using his enhanced hearing, Icon focused on Arthur’s voice. It took him several moments to block out all of the background noise, people talking, traffic, and sirens, and focus on what Arthur was saying, and wait for the signal. Icon watched as Arthur and War-Pulse descended from the sky, and listened as Arthur spoke. Once they were on the ground, Icon moved toward them. He stayed out of sight, traveling at a high altitude as Arthur spoke to the mercenary.

“I know that you might have done some things that you are not proud of, whoring out your skills for the highest bidder. But I also know that you are also capable of doing the right thing. I don’t think you would have helped us back on D-Day if all you cared about was the cash reward. I assume you have a sense of honor and these guys probably embarrassed you badly when they whipped you back in Lost Haven proper. We’re offering you a chance to show that you are more than just a hired gun.” He heard Arthur tell War-Pulse. Just then, Icon descended from the sky himself, landing just to the side of Iron Knight.

“I know that you’re not a bad guy, and I don’t think that you want this device to go off. We can stop it, but we need your help. It’s time for you to step up and stand for something. Help us stop this thing.” Icon said to a surprised War-Pulse.
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Byrd Man
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Byrd Man El Hombre Pájaro

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Washington D.C.
1928


James Madison always preferred to arrive in Washington by train. The Executive Branch could afford to retrieve him in any number of ways, from automobile and aircraft to astral projection and teleportation, but this was how Madison wanted to see the city. The path the train took towards Union Station offered a perfect view of the capitol and the White House. He wanted to see the town and how much it had grown since its inception, when it was just stagnant swampland on the Potomac. Of all the presidents, Washington was truly his city. In a room with just two other men, he brokered the compromise that gave the South the capital. On the House floor, Congressman Madison guided the Residence Act through Congress. The city was named after the Old Man, but it owed its existence to James Madison more than anyone else.

And he very nearly watched it destroyed. That was another reason he wanted to see the view of the city from this vantage point. In 1814, he sat on horseback from a hill not far away and watched Washington burn. He saw the White House burn, Capitol Hill would have burned with it had it not been still under construction. This city, his city, it burned because he failed his country as president. His beliefs of small government, Jeffersonian they would later call it, had led to a toothless federal response to British aggression and a ragtag army in the War of 1812. The British Army tore through American forces at the battle of Bladensburg and gleefully marched into Washington, burning everything in sight.

"Next stop Union Station! End of the line!"

The conductor snapped Madison from his trance. He checked his watch. They would be coming up on the view in just a few minutes. He shifted in his seat and looked around the train car. Nobody made mention of the fourth president of the United States being among them because of his ability to change his appearance, shapeshifting they called it, allowed him to look like a normal man with a forgettable face. Besides, he doubted they would recognize him even if he wasn't disguised as a normal person. Most of his fellow commuters were men in suits coming into the capital for business. Most of them were engrossed in papers, the few that weren't talked of bonds and stocks and business. Madison felt pride in the state of the country at the moment. After the Great War, the United States stood as the top economic power on the planet and continued to grow in a boom that had no precedent. Madison was also wary. This new kind of business was dependent on the consumer and credit, dependent on the people having money to purchase the items they needed. Jobs and whole industries needed the public appetite to continue to be insatiable to stay afloat. He'd seen many booms and busts, many panics and depressions since his revival in 1870. As unprecedented as the growth of the 1920's was, the fall that followed it would be just as unprecedented.

The train rose over the hill and Madison watched the city appear down below. He liked to be reminded that while his error was costly, it had not been fatal to the country. America was stronger than even the most forward thinkers of the 18th century could imagine, and Madison was dedicated to seeing it stay that way. He'd blundered once before, but he would not do it again.

---


Executive Branch Headquarters
Smithsonian Institution


"Mr. Madison, welcome home."

Alexander Hamilton's handsome face and sparkling blue eyes greeted Madison at the entrance to the museum's subbasement. Madison felt a sense of warmth and affection overcome him at the sight of Hamilton. The two men had a complicated history when they were alive, first as allies that wrote the Federalist Papers and defended the Constitution, then later enemies when Madison feared the federal government was becoming too big. It wasn't until a decade after Hamilton's death that Madison saw the need for a stronger federal government, the type of government Hamilton had argued for. Since their rebirth, the two men had become something akin to friends... or at least as close as standoffish Madison and workaholic Hamilton could be.

"Mr. Hamilton."

The two men shook hands and Madison followed Hamilton through the doors. Inside as a cacophony of key clacking. A dozen secretaries were busy typing our reports and missives on large typewriters. Their desks were arranged in a semi-circle facing a large map of the world. Several spots in the map had pins stuck in them, pieces of yarn stretched across the map to link pins together. Hamilton kept walking, Madison following in his wake, down the corridor.

"I know you were convalescing, sir, but the matter we're faced with requires an agent with experience and skill, and you are the only one I fully trust with this matter."

They entered Hamilton's office, a spartan layout with just a desk and typewriter and two chairs. Hamilton's desk was neat and orderly, the only thing on it a tidy stack of papers. Hamilton took a seat while Madison followed suit.

"Have the Founders come out of seclusion yet?" Madison asked.

Hamilton shook his head. Ever since the War, Washington, Adams, and Jefferson had been in hiding. Rumors abounded that the three men had died or that the strength it took to finally destroy the Timekeepers had rendered them comatose. Whatever the reason, Hamilton had been running the day to day operations of the Executive Branch for close to ten years at this point. While there was no one better suited, it unnerved Madison to think the Founders would be out of touch for this long.

"Every day I try to make contact, and every day I only hear silence." Hamilton pulled something from his stack of papers and handed it to Madison. "But this is for you"

Madison skimmed it before looking up.

"Germany?"

"Yes," Hamilton nodded. "There's an election this year. Our intelligence tells us that a potential coup or rigged election may be in the works. Germany is a mess, Mr. Madison, financially and politically. We need a stable Germany to prevent another European war. We want you to observe, report, and if need be dispatch anyone who attempts to influence the elections in any undue ways."

"It says I'll have a partner." Madison raised an eyebrow. "Agent codenamed Tiger. I'm not familiar with him."

"A new addition," Hamilton said with a smirk. "We lost a lot of good men during the War so we had to recruit. Tiger is Woodrow Wilson, and he is something of a natural when it comes to deception and espionage. I believe two shall get along famously."
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by fdeviant
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fdeviant Witch o' the Wood

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8 Months Ago


A few days had passed since Marie’s encounter with Joseph, the mysterious customer ushered out of Shadow of the Moon by a strange man with a demonic visage. She could have simply warded the store, herself, and been done with the whole thing, but Marie sensed that something was amiss, that if she were to try something like that, she’d only anger whatever forces with whom she had suddenly crossed paths. Instead, she decided to spend her free time researching similar events online and in the various folkloric books and scrolls she kept. In that time, she’d managed to narrow down the historical sightings and accounts to the beings most likely to be wandering the streets of Lost Haven. European folklore was filled with ghost stories, and Marie believed that perhaps the being that she had witnessed two days prior was some form of wraith or shade possessing the body of a man, and perhaps she had been able to discern the creature’s true form because of her powers. But wraiths are vengeful spirits, she thought, trying to make sense of her account. . . . unless it was bound to Joseph’s service by a contract or spell, but even then it wouldn’t have told him to leave, would it? She then wondered if Joseph knew the man’s true form, and if so, was he in control of or in league with him? He might’ve had a familiar. They have no definite shape, but they aren’t known to take human form . . . but there’s no lore saying that they can’t. After hours of pondering and hypothesizing, Marie settled on a theory, believing Joseph was a skilled witch who had bound into service a familiar spirit. Familiars have been known to guide and command their owners from time to time. Maybe they had an important date to keep? She kept a close eye on the shop’s emails, reviews, and complaints. He said that he would keep in touch, but he didn’t specify how.

Marie continued to toss around ideas in her head as she strolled into work that morning. She was so deep in thought that any conversation Madalena attempted to initiate went right past her, much to Madalena’s dismay. The day trudged along as Marie came up with all the different ways in which she could reach Joseph until something finally came to her: crossing the hedge. “That’s it!” she exclaimed as the thought came to her, Madalena peering into the shop from the office with a raised brow.

“You okay?” she asked with semi-concern.

“Yeah,” Marie answered, “just remembered something, didn’t mean to worry you.” Madalena shrugged and returned to the office. Marie, on the other hand, began scanning through the thick, dusty tome she often carried to work for the recipe to a spiritual flying ointment. Once she got home from work, she began preparations for a spiritual flight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Crossing the hedge, astral projection, spiritual flight, all different ways of saying the same thing, sending one’s spirit out into this world and beyond. The flight of witches recorded in European texts were likely those few times when witches were spotted flying to the sabbat in their physical forms, but sabbat meetings are best conducted as a spectre, for it allows greater focus, increases the power raised, and one can more easily find practitioners of the craft moving through the confines of time and space than searching in the physical realm. Marie knew all of this, she had known it since she was a child, but it hadn’t occurred to her, until recently, that Joseph might have been testing her knowledge when he entered the shop. He had seen the old tome that she had been reading, possibly even read the tops of the pages or deciphered a few of the obvious sigils and scripts, so perhaps he had recognized her as a carrier of the witch-fire from a few simple observations, and by “in touch,” he meant she would find him if she truly did carry Bucca’s mark.

Tonight was perfect, a full moon. If there were any other witches like herself, those who worshipped or those touched by Bucca, then tonight they would surely be at their most active. Marie dressed in ritual garb, a formality that she had never really cared to abide by, but one she believed would be appropriate for tonight’s operations. She had given the ointment plenty of time to set up the day before and was ready to begin. She took some of it on her fingers and placed a bit on her forehead, around her lips, and on the nape of her neck, rubbing in the poisonous mixture gently, making sure not to touch her lips or eyes. She then lay down in her bed, closed her eyes, and began breathing in and out deeply. With each breath, she fell deeper and deeper into a trance, her body warming up the areas where the ointment was placed. Finally, she opened her eyes and stood up, looking down at her bed to ensure that her body lay there sleeping. Sure enough, there were two of her, the one standing her consciousness and spirit, the one left sleeping her physical form. She smiled, proud of herself for being able to cross over so quickly and easily, then passed through the window of her apartment and flew out into the night.

As a spirit, she could glide through the air faster than if in physical flight and was not bothered by things such as walls and boundaries, for she could simply pass through them so long as they weren’t protected from her. She flew over Chinatown, then through the streets, smiling as the people around her felt the cold chill of her spirit pass them by, unable to see her. As she flew, she searched for beings like herself, spirits and inhuman creatures whose identities would be obvious in this heightened state of awareness. As if on cue, two figures came swirling past, women with fair skin and ivory hair that glowed brilliantly in the night. One was skyclad, the other wearing a thin, translucent tunic around her waist. These were not witches, but full blooded fae, spiritual beings of myth who attend to the many aspects of nature and who, like humans, have desires and motives all their own. These two nodded at Marie as they flew by, giggling and singing in eerie harmonies, eventually disappearing into a thicket of leaves and brush at the edge of the city. A forest, the traditional gathering places for witches and their ilk, a place where all the spirits could be seen and heard. Even in Lost Haven, a heavily urban area, spirits could enjoy the quiet of parks and forest trails, little pieces of nature scattered here and there.

Marie flew swiftly into the small collection of dense trees, moving about them freely until happening upon a clearing where, sure enough, other cloaked, darkly clad, and naked peoples gathered. Among them were all manner of spirits and fae, men and women of many ages, some gathered physically, some spiritually like Marie, and other creatures, dark shadows in the forms of beasts that Marie assumed were circle guardians or familiars. One in particular caught Marie’s attention, a tall, thin shadow with long, spindly talons and a wide, gaping jaw fitted with three rows of jagged teeth. Marie felt a shiver as she eyed the being, who turned to her as she neared the circle and gave her a simple nod. His presence wasn't threatening or menacing, though his image betrayed his motives. Beside the shadow stood a handsome man her age with beautiful and angular features, his dark hair covered by the hood of a dark cloak. He too looked to her, stretching out an arm and waving her over, smiling all the while.

“I had a feeling we might be seeing you again,” he said arrogantly, verbally patting himself on the back with his greeting. Marie wanted to roll her eyes, but decided against it. He continued, “I guessed from that grimoire you had out the other day that you were one of us, one of His followers. Not just anyone can get their hands on the personal grimoires of witches from the Middle Ages.”

“I’ve, uh, got a pretty good collection I guess . . .” she replied awkwardly. Even though she was among her kind, she still wasn’t completely at ease. “I’m Marie, by the way. Marie Heartford.” She extended her arm as if to give him a handshake.

“Joseph Mathers,” he responded, taking her hand in his and kissing it. Marie turned her head and blushed. She supposed this was a semi-formal occasion, so such a greeting wasn’t unwarranted, but it still took her by surprise.

“D-do you know everyone here?” she asked in a soft voice so as not to be heard by the others, all of whom were too busy conversing with one another to hear anything she said.

Joseph shook his head, “I’ve met a few, but this is my first time seeing many of these people. The circle gets bigger every full moon. Friends tell their friends, who tell their friends, that kind of thing.” He looked up into the sky, noting the position of the moon. He looked back down at her and gave a wide grin. “It would seem that time is upon us. The witching hour draws near.”

“I-I’ve got a few more questions . . . “

“We’ll have plenty of time to talk about that later,” he interrupted. “Right now, let’s enjoy ourselves and revel in the presence of our own kind.”

Before Marie could object, her hand was seized by Joseph and he brought her into the circle, outlined by several occult markings on the ground, a pyre of logs and sticks constructed at its center. Marie was familiar with this form of ritual but had never had the chance to take part, rather, she never had the desire to be around this many people, some of whom weren’t even clothed. The others in company came together within the circle, some holding stangs, some holding incense, some holding bowls of consecrated or holy water, and the ritual began. The guardians were called, the spirits were raised, and as the group began their ritual chanting, beings of all shapes, sizes, and metaphysical persuasions began emerging from the surrounding woods, some holding instruments, some simply looking to join in the revelry. Suddenly, the pyre at the center erupted into flames and all in attendance began a frenzied dance around it, some chanting Bucca’s name, some singing loudly in strange tongues, but all dancing to the music of the spirits, to the music of Bucca. Marie had never once liked a party, had never once been a part of such revelry, but for the first time in her life, Marie felt herself begin to slip. She was taken over by the frenzied ecstasy, as if possessed by Bucca himself, and knowingly, willingly, and joyfully danced and sang with the witches and spirits in the forest, and for the first time since her childhood, saw Him, floating above the pyre, dancing with witches and spirits, hand-in-hand with everyone present. Marie smiled and thought, This is pure freedom.
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Fallenreaper
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Fallenreaper ღ~Lil' Emotional Cocktail~ღ

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&
Part 3

Location: Sharman Square, outside the apartments
Timeline: During the Riots, Night time


”I wonder, what makes people believe it is in their right to determine who lives or dies? You decided that the man, likely mentally impaired and driven by the very drug killing him, wasn’t worth trying to save. You could’ve done a number of things.” Michael paused to catch his breath then continued one.

“You could’ve touched him and teleported him into the streets then out of the city. You could’ve taken her, her friend, and yourself out of harm’s way. As for killing her, would you consider that if she wasn’t infected? If her friend had been more aware than maybe she could’ve prevented or gotten to me sooner, saving Racheli’s life or buying time. Maybe if the girl hadn’t been in the same room as her dead relative, then she might’ve avoided infection completely.”
He chuckled then uttering one last thought. He lifted upright then turned to face the masked brunette.

”As for burning, the reason I don’t like it hot is because it resets me. I become dormant. So it wouldn’t have matter, save you stopped her suffering and murdered her. How much good would that do in the end?”

Gabriel landed near the two women and the whatever-he-was, still trying to figure out why his phase signature was so similar to a dying girl's. Well. Not quite dying anymore- her vitals had come much closer to stable than before, thanks to Supermodel's quick thinking. He'd have to thank her later.

For right now, however, he had some questions for the ghostly bastard. Based on what he could hear and what he overheard, there was something seriously wrong with her metagenesis trigger.

Might have something to do with the "virus" and "planetary scale infection" deal. Just maybe.

"Okay. Now that we've got that woman mostly stable, I have some things to ask you. First of all, that 'sync' effect you were referring to- what exactly does that entail? And secondly, where did you come from? Why are you here? And, perhaps most importantly, why does your 'host' have almost my exact same phase signature?"
Michael turned his head, sensing movement, his face now acknowledging the individual’s arrival as the man that blew up the apartment floor. He paused for a moment to absorb the question then spoke in a reasoning voice. “Mentally, her and I have to sync up. This means aggression and violent emotions are required which was part of the reason I took on the guise I have now. In her mind, she loathes this person more than any others and more because he is her father. Getting her angry enough to want to kill someone is the requirement because when we sync, I’m fixed in place to a host and can no longer switch out. Also any damage that had occurred is fixed.”

His feet twisted about, his body facing the man, and continued with his answers. Racheli’s mind was slowly stirring through he willingly ignored her in favor of answering the man’s questions. ”Where I came from is too vague, so I’ll currently give you the recent facts. I originally was put on a hunk of rock floating in space before I was found by a company bearing some strange markings. A G intertwining with a C, their name unknown to me. My main function was to make this planet suitable by infecting as many beings as possible, it was what I was designed to do."

"Currently I'm what you would describe as sterile thanks to those idiots that imprisoned and dissected me." Michael continued. "I'm unable to reproduce more independent ones but I can still infect. And the answer to your final question, I thought it would've been obvious. When someone plays god with genetics, they usually want whatever divine being they worship does: recognition. They put their signature on it. In blunt words: your suit and I both came from the same exact source."

He paused to let the words sink in then added. "It won't matter much now. Racheli's esteemed savior might've decided to become her executioner."

Gabriel contemplated what the projection (for that was the only thing it could be, given what he knew) had been telling him. It was all... a bit much to take in. Assuming he was telling the truth, of course.

Is he telling the truth? Could her... "virus" be a Phylactery?

"it's not inconceivable. given our phase signatures are practically a perfect match- like siblings, really- it would be more implausible for our devices to be unrelated. and besides, i am device 006. it stands to reason that there should be at least devices 001-005, if not more after myself. simple logic."

Gabriel nodded. It was rather logical, when put like that. But still, if all of this were true, it was rather a disappointment. He shook his head- he finally meets another derivative of whatever civilization created Daedalus, even mostly lucid, as compared to when he'd first bonded with Daedalus. And it turns out to be a killer virus.

I'm starting to think that maybe whoever made the Phylacteries weren't very nice people. I mean, look at us- they made a living library, and then armed it with nukes, essentially.

"it is rather troubling. i had not thought my makers capable of making something like him. though, i did have only myself to compare to. still, this is a tremendous opportunity."

How so?

"well, assuming he himself is not a phylactery, he is, at the very least, sourced from one. and he still seems mostly lucid, as opposed to when i came to this planet. his insight into our nature could result in us vastly improving our capabilities. at minimum, we gain the insight into our original function that we have been searching for."

Gabriel was about to respond to this, until he registered what the projection had just said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Executioner?" That doesn't sound... pleasant.” He looked over at the swordswoman, mouth twisting. If the other meta decided that Rach had to die, it would be difficult to convince her otherwise, given the evidence he'd already seen. In fact, if not for certain questions he still wanted answered, he might be contemplating pulling the trigger himself, so to speak. He'd be unlikely to follow through- blasted idealism getting in the way again.

Still, given what he'd deduced, he was reasonably confident in his ability to control this incident. As the device itself had said, it was essentially sterile, and bonding it to Rach would remove any incentive of infecting others, since it would then have a viable host to preserve it. After that, it was simply a matter of nudging the girl herself in the right direction- whether to use her powers for decent means, or to avoid them entirely. The latter path was highly unlikely, but he'd take what he could get.

He took a deep breath, and walked over to the swordswoman's side, looking down at the ice-packed girl alongside her.

"So... what's your plan?"

”He’s talking about Gene Corp,” Justine replied, looking over at Hero. “Same place that Bozo back in the apartment got his mask from.” She was still kneeling in the snow next to the stricken Racheli, ignoring the cold. It didn’t seem to bother her, for the time being. Finally, she looked up at the power-suited figure next to her. “First things first was to get her stabilized enough for transport to somewhere more pressing. As soon as she’s pulled out of the snowpack this thing is going to explode through her lymphatic system and bloodstream. Instead of a day, we might have less than an hour. All I did was push back the clock,” she stated. “I can get around at supersonic to virtually instant speeds when needs be. I’m not going to let her out of my sight until there’s a resolution to this situation. If you have a place we can put her as cold or colder than this, like a walk-in freezer or massive blast-chiller… Or even something that’s cryogenic like… “

She stood, rising to her six foot frame, looking at the suited figure. “I don’t have those kinds of resources, but I would think you do,” she added.

Gabriel considered the swordswoman's words about who just might have done this to their mutual ward. GeneCorp... Why is that name familiar? I must have heard it somewhere before... He hazily recalled some sort of offer or something. Something about research. Whatever it was, it happened just before he'd gotten Daedalus, so his memories of that time were sadly scrambled for now. Whatever. He'd figure it out sometime later. Right now, he had a girl to save. He looked down at the women, nodding sharply.

"As it so happens, I have several stasis pods that could do the trick. They're each their own self-contained environment, so I can adjust each accordingly to the patient, subject, or prisoner contained therein. Obviously, I will be preparing it for a patient. Anyway, my facility, as mentioned, has certain failsafes to prevent unwanted access. Follow me, and I'll show you the most convenient way to access it. Will you be carrying her, or shall I?"

Racheli’s face was blank and emotionless. Her body, on the other hand, was weak and fragile from the virus messing with her system. It was amazing how easily the snow weighed her down and kept her from moving, her arms feeling more like jello then flesh and blood. A description about how shitty she felt came to mind: someone had unraveled her insides then mashed them in a puree before finally trying to bake them only half way. Thankfully, the combination of Justine’s healing and the ice had done their tasks in delaying the virus’ deadly work. Now her saviors had left her to settle into the packed tomb and try to survive the night. Since the pain stopped, Rach was content to stay where she was and just wait out the storm within her. However, it seemed the ‘Bastard Upstairs’ had other plans.

None that included a good old prescription of rest and relaxation.

Justine’s face surfaced to her mind, followed by the realization of the gas. Something bad was about to happen if she didn’t move but her mind was slow in putting the details together. Her face scrunched up, the lids shutting out the crackling noise in the background. Pressing her back harder into the chill behind, unable to move much, she tried to reason why. Namely why it was important she get back onto her feet quickly as her blurry vision gradually adjusted to the dim light created by the pure white snow, details sharpening through the faint screams about them. She could hear the muffled sounds. She could only guess people were frantically running through the streets-causing mayhem or escaping it- showing the horror of the raids in full swing. For the moment, her head was too weary and stuck in snow to go in deeper detail than what her imagination could weave. Too tired to absorb the night’s hellish nightmare flooding the square, she couldn’t even see the individuals who put here. However she started to remember them from fragments and naturally put their image together gradually. Asshole-hero and the brunette wonder, their voices both seeming to discussing a topic Racheli wasn’t fully overjoyed to join in on: herself.

Not recognizing the woman’s voice, through something vaguely nagged at her, Rach’s eyes darkened defensively at the mention of someone carrying her. Her arms tried to move only to be stopped by the tightly packed snow and increased her alarm. Last thing she remembered was Bozo entering their apartment and…

“Shit! The gas, someone get me the fuck out of here. ” Racheli spat in a venomous tone her words muffled by the snow around her face, her body wiggling to get out. Her fingers tried to curl as she kept trying to chip away at the ice and snow surrounding her, desperate to get out. The reason of why Justine’s face and the memory of the gas clicked together. “There’s a gas leak. Where the hell is Justine?”

A ear deafening roar erupted when the building exploded. Even through the snow, Rach couldn’t deny what it was.
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by FacePunch
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FacePunch Death Comes

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SuperIOR Inc., Lost Haven

"Why are we besieging this glass tower, friend Chike? What do you hope to gain?"

Chike Baatul poked his head over the cubicle he was using for cover. A dozen security guards were scattered around the room, pistols in hand. They were firing non-stop on Thune; who didn't seem to notice the barrage at all. Chike pulled his assault rifle over the top of the wall and let loose a hail of aimed shots at a pair of guards with their heads stuck out. The two men collapsed out of sight in a spray of blood and brains. The rest of the guards turned their weapons on Chike and opened up on his cubicle, forcing the vigilante to duck. "Why are you just standing there?!" He yelled over the cacophony. "Do you require my assistance?" He asked nonchalantly. "I would appreciate it, yes!" Thune nodded and took a step out of the cubicle and into the open. "Very well. Consider it done!" Then he vanished before Chike's enhanced eyes. Bewildered, Chike turned to look at the security forces. By the time his head was over the top of the cramped space, the opposition forces were all sprawled across the floor.

"Nice work. Now come on."

"You have not yet answered my inquiry." Thune reminded his new companion, refusing to move.

Chike took a deep breathe and sighed. "If anyone knows where this Pax Metahumana guy is, its Edward Cunningham. Even if he doesn't, SuperIOR has some of the best tech on the planet! We'll find some way to track the bomb before it goes off. Trust me, Thune. This is the best way. Now, follow me. His office should be this way."

The motley pair jogged through the office space past the corpses of their enemies. Blood stained the workplace and bullet holes were scattered across the windows. There was a similar scene in the lobby, where Polemos had gunned down a number of security personnel and terrified the civilians until they ran. He'd given them ample time to escape via the stairs and fire exits while he and Thune took the elevator to the penthouse floor. "You know, on my world, such an action would be seen as treason. Attacking targets with such a significant innocent presence is strictly forbidden." Polemos glanced over at Thune. The big guy wasn't hard to read. He let his heart hang on his sleeve for all to see; which usually wouldn't be a problem. But Chike had begun to question the morality behind his every action ever since he broke free from Ares' influence. But doubt lingered in the back of his mind: what if the touch of Ares had never truly faded? The old Chike would never have stormed an office building, guns blazing. He must look like a bloody terrorist!

But Baatul steeled himself. He knew the truth. SuperIOR was an evil corporation led by a sinister man. There was nothing "morally questionable" about his actions so far. He hadn't harmed any innocents. The security guards knew what they were getting in to when they took this job; and they shot first. Even still...

"I had a feeling you would try to pull something." Chike whipped around and immediately opened fire on the familiar voice. The rounds bounced off Captain Liberty like they were made of tissue paper. "But I hadn't imagined you would be so bold as to attack our headquarters in broad daylight! And so soon? You're either complete moron or out of your mind!" Abrams chuckled. The AK-47 clicked multiple times. Chike released the empty magazine onto the ground and retrieved a second one, gritting his teeth. "You're a monster. I'll kill you!" James smiled beneath the helmet. "I'm the monster? Lost Haven hates you. They're afraid of you; I'm their hero. What I have done to be called a monster, eh?"

"You killed t-those innocent people. My friends. Almost crushed those office workers."

Captain Liberty merely scoffed and waved at the bloodshed behind him. "We're not so different."

"I'm nothing like you."

"Sure, sure. Who's your girlfriend, by the way?"

"How dare-" Thune started. Chike placed a hand against his chest. "This guy. He's dangerous; and one of the bad guys. Don't hold back." Thune only nodded, a solemn look crossing his face. "I shall vanquish this armored knight, as I have thousands like him. Have at thee!" Thune exploded forward in a blinding display of speed, striking Captain Liberty straight in the chest. A shockwave burst forth behind Thune's speeding fist before metal and flesh made contact for the briefest moment. With a single punch, Thune Xavier sent Captain Liberty soaring backwards. James' battlesuit looked more like a steel coffin as he smashed through multiple walls and eventually shattered a wall of glass, falling out of sight. Chike rushed to the edge of the building, leaning out to get a better look. Captain Liberty sat in the middle of a sizable crater, perhaps twenty meters in diameter, unmoving. Chike could see the damage from up here; it was quite extensive.

"Y-you only hit him once." Chike stammered. "You said he was dangerous. I don't understand; I thought your people were formidable? I was told there was much potential here." Thune's eyes held only contempt and disappoint as he turned and walked toward the CEO's office. "One punch..." Chike muttered, following behind him.

The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival to the final floor. A pair of oddly dressed men rushed out, wielding weapons. "Who-" Thune began. He was interrupted by a feminine voice from behind him. "Hey! Which one of you assholes knocked the tin can out this window?" A woman, dressed in street clothes, asked. Her arms were crossed and she looked pissed. "Who art thou?" Thune inquired. "The name's Skyquake. Leader of the Vanguard. Who are you supposed to be? Super Saiyan Thor?" Chike took in a gulp of air. "I've heard of them. The Vanguard are the ones who defeated Umbraxis-" Thune's head shot towards Chike at nearly the speed of sound at the mention of Umbraxis. "Are you sure?" Chike nodded. "Oh yeah. Not everyday-"

Thune tackled Skyquake out of the window. The two supers disappeared out of sight, leaving Chike with the rest of team Vanguard. "If she's Skyquake, then you two must be Supercell and...?" Who was the other one? Bone Breaker? Face Caver? "That's Skull-Thrasher, ya dickhead!" The armored one yelled, waving a fist. "Drop your weapon and surrender. There's no need for further violence; you are outmatched. "Aban attempted diplomacy, his gun trained on Chike. "Pfft. Me? Outmatched?" He tossed his firearm to the side. The two superheroes looked at each other wearily. "I am Polemos! I AM WAR!" Polemos sprinted towards his attackers and kicked the gun from Supercell's hands. Skull-Thrasher blocked Chike's followup kick. "Gaahhh! Son of a bitch almost broke my arms!" He yelled. Skull-Thrasher and Supercell retrieved their melee weapons and charged at Polemos. "I'll take you both on!"

Thune backhanded Skyquake through a nearby skyscraper. "Is Umbraxis fallen? Have you slain it?" He screamed, bull-rushing the falling heroine and hitting her again before she could recover. Skyquake crashed into the middle of a busy street, throwing up chunks of concrete as he skidded to a halt inside a trench of her own making. "What are you on about?" Skyquake rapidly pounded on Thune's face, using her strength and speed at maximum power. Thune merely stood there, his head unmoved. Shockwaves exploded around the two of them every time Skyquake hit him.

"Enough." Thune grabbed Skyquakes arms and slammed her into the ground. The entire block was damaged. Cars were thrown into the air. Windows shattered. Foundations shook and hairline cracks formed. Visible damage appeared on the nearest structures. Skyquake went limp in Thune's hand. "Answer me or suffer the consequences." He growled. "No." May squeaked weakly. "It's still alive. We hurt it though." Thune looked at her quizzically. "You had help. Not just your friends inside; I could sense your power, not theirs. Who helped you defeat the Destroyer?" Skyquake's lips pursed. Thune squeezed her throat, causing May to scream- if she could breathe, that is. "WHO?!" Thune roared. "Icon! A-And a couple of speedsters named Thunderbolt and Boom. Please, that's all I know. Don't-" He tossed the girl to the side with enough force to knock her unconscious. A single drop of blood fell from Thune's nose. Then another. It wasn't more than a moment before blood streamed from Thune's nostril. A small smirk crossed the giant's face.

"Your people have...potential. I will need to test these other heroes you spoke of. Perhaps your kind can help me after all."
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by NeutralNexus
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“You know what, Warden? I feel really good helping that Angel guy out, it’s not often I get to screw STRIKE over and make a new friend in the same mission.”

“I can’t believe you said no to the money.”

War-Pulse gave a hearty chuckle, rocketing across the Lost Haven skyline.

“Aw, come on, sometimes the experience is payment enough. I think we made some new friends.”

“We aren’t some kind of temp hires, and experience doesn’t put food on my table. And those ‘friends’ of yours will absolutely put a bullet in your head if they catch you again.”

“Pfft,” War-Pulse scoffed, waving off Warden’s chastising. “Don’t be such a downer, this was fun! You got to flaunt your tech skills, I got to punch things, Angel got his freedom, it worked out for everyone!”

“You are insufferable.”

“Well now you’re just being a di--”

War-Pulse was immediately cut off by some kind of warning signal coming from Warden’s comm link. A brow raised as he put his hand to his ear.

“War-Pulse, you have company. I have a bogey on your six, looks to be about human sized and moving well past your current velocity.”

The mercenary frowned, glancing behind him to see a man in a metal silvery suit coming his way.

“Warden, did Angel make a fun-sized ATD to trail us?”

“Negative, systems don’t match up, that’s--”

“Iron Knight?” War-Pulse interjected, recognizing the armor as soon as it came into visual range from his experiences during D-Day. They had both been part of the team that closed the portal, though he had not spoken to the mech-man personally. "Aw, crap, do you think he knows about the whole ‘attacking a STRIKE base’ thing? Because I'll bet he's pissed if he does.”

“I’m not sure if that’s the case...his weapons aren’t powered up. I don’t think he’s looking to fight you.”

“Really? Then what’s he--”

“War-Pulse, I presume.” Chris suddenly said through the speakers on his suit to the mercenary in mid-air, “I hear that you have been quite the busy man as of late. I have a little proposition for you. If you don’t want S.T.R.I.K.E. swarming this area, I would suggest that you land yourself.” Chris gestured down towards the ground as he finished speaking.


When Iron Knight spoke, the threat was clear, but the response was not immediate. Never one to back down, War-Pulse made a point to eye the emotionless mask of his pursuer, a cold stoic glare trying to get a read on Iron Knight’s intentions. He was intrigued, had the Knight wanted to take him in, could he really trust STRIKE to get the job done? What was his angle? He had to hear this.

Landing on the ground, War-Pulse crossed his arms and let Iron Knight give him the so-called ‘proposition’ he had in mind. At their landing, Iron Knight very quickly discharged a device onto the ground, whirring and buzzing to immediately display a full screen, playing back the message that was delivered to the full city all but hours ago. His eyes narrowed at the mention of his defeat by the Doctor’s forces, and their subsequent interest in making the world metahuman with the vial he nabbed.

As the transmission came to a close, Iron Knight continued his proposition.

“I don’t know whether you have seen this, but there is kind of a situation going on now. You are probably wondering now why I have come here. The reason is that I believe that this man is referring to you when he talked about his own team of metahumans foiling a plot on the Lost Haven water supply. We need all the information we can get on what we’re up against.”

“I know that you might have done some things that you are not proud of, whoring out your skills for the highest bidder. But I also know that you are also capable of doing the right thing. I don’t think you would have helped us back on D-Day if all you cared about was the cash reward. I assume you have a sense of honor and these guys probably embarrassed you badly when they whipped you back in Lost Haven proper. We’re offering you a chance to show that you are more than just a hired gun.”


With his words, War-Pulse’s brow rose as more heroes gathered by Iron Knight’s side. He recognized one instantly, as the man known as Icon was worldwide famous, a public name on everyone’s lips. How could anyone not know who Icon is by this point?

“I know that you’re not a bad guy, and I don’t think that you want this device to go off. We can stop it, but we need your help. It’s time for you to step up and stand for something. Help us stop this thing.”


The reaction was subtle to the words, but there was a shift in War-Pulse’s stance. A mixture of flattery and hesitation welled up in the Mercenary. Icon, the hero of heroes, had asked War-Pulse to assist, but if they were asking him they must be desperate on this affair.

However he did not recognize the two speedsters, but immediately tried to get a read on them as they came into being. The boy seemed capable, but the girl was out of breath, strained by her exercise, and both of them had an air of green about them compared to Iron Knight and Icon. They were also afraid, judging by their body language alone. The way the man kept looking at the woman, the way the two hid between the big guns, there was a sense of paranoia and unease to their actions. They were worried, nervous, there was no doubt there was discord among the pair with even being here.

They expected something to happen here, and from War-Pulse’s guess, it would not be pretty.

The mercenary did well to eye each and every one of his opposition, assess them slowly as he kept his hands to his sides, his footing placed to be ready to move in an instant if the four heroes decided to jump him. There was confidence in his stance, a glint in his eye as he continued to exchange glares with each hero. The pitbull that was War-Pulse was nowhere close to backing down from the four despite the overwhelming odds against him, especially not with the representative of an organization he just blast his way through.

“Well, you certainly know how to sweet talk a guy, tin can. Really bringing your A-game today, eh Knight?” War-Pulse remarked, beginning to pace in front of the four heroes now arrived to him. “Calling me a whore with a heart of gold? What am I, Julia Roberts trying to win an Oscar?” He chuckled, now pacing in front of the four heroes now standing before him. “And you say you offer a chance to redeem myself, but what about the other three here, huh?” He gestured to Icon, Thunderbolt, and Boom as he spoke. “You guys all here to give me the same ‘come to jesus’ talk? Or are you just here in case I get violent? From where I’m standing, this isn’t a chance to redeem myself, this is strongarming me to play for your team. And you know what? That pisses me off. If you want me to punch guys for you, you could’ve just offered me money or a good time. Hell, you even could have just told me the truth from the get-go, I'd probably sign on if the pay is good. Don’t pretend you give half of a shit about where my morals lie.”

He sighed, placing his hands on his hips, glancing up to the sky, the cool air whipping through his coat as his chest sunk from a long, deep exhale. “And even if I believed that you were really here to offer this ‘shot of redemption’, then you’re shit outta luck. You guys have me pegged for someone else, someone with the need to do something for the good of the people...I’m not a hero, I’m not interested in being some kind of caped role model to kids like Big Blue over there. I’m a mercenary, and I’m not ashamed of that. I’m good at what I do, and I make good money doing it...however...”

He turned back to look at the group, a wild gleam in his eyes as he cracked his knuckles, kinetic energy snapping and crackling off of his hands as he spoke. “If you’re offering the chance to get back at four no-named assholes who cost me a job, screw their boss’ operation over and rub his stupid giraffe neck in it, then by all means; count me in. I’ll tell you anything you want to know about the four metahumans who jumped me and help you take on Dr. Worm Neck.”

He was quick to qualify his acceptance, pointing at Iron Knight. “But let’s get one thing straight, Knight. I’m not working for you, I’m working with you, you don’t give me orders unless you are willing to pay me for it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to violate your little codes and ethics. As long as we are working together on this I’ll respect the need to compromise, but don’t expect me to follow everything with unquestioned loyalty. Also don’t expect me to suddenly turn myself in or stay on some kind of ‘super team’ when we finish the job. After this, it’s back to business as usual.”

He turned his finger point to a handshake, taking another few steps forward towards Iron Knight. “Do we got a deal? Because either way, I think the pretty young lady is going to pass out from exhaustion if someone doesn’t get her a bottle of Gatorade or something.”
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Dedonus
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Dedonus Kai su teknon;

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Christopher Arthur III

Chris intently listened to War-Pulse’s response to his offer. He could obviously read from War-Pulse’s body language that the arrival of Icon, Thunderbolt, and Boom had spooked the mercenary, causing him to be on his guard. Nevertheless, despite the potential that bringing backup could put the superhuman mercenary on high alert, Chris believed that the move was a risk that he was willing to take. War-Pulse had in fact taken on several metahuman opponents at once. Who wouldn’t blame him for his decision?

“If we really wanted to ‘strong-arm’ you into working for us, we would have already attacked and hopefully taken you back with us by now. But we don’t have the time for that nonsense. There are bigger fish to fry in this world and one giant fish has already threatened to transform everyone in the world into metahumans, whether they like it or not. We cannot be fighting each other while something far worse is looming over us all.”

Chris noticed that War-Pulse tried to deny his own heroism, especially what he had displayed on D-Day. No matter what he or Icon said, it seemed that War-Pulse was not buying it. Therefore, Chris needed to change up his game and speak to him in terms that he might better understand.

“Obviously you seem insistent on denying that you have any ounce of heroism in yourself. Following that logic, unless you have fooled yourself into believing that and are now trying to convince us of it, then it is clear that you didn’t help us on D-Day out of the goodness of your heart. Therefore, what was your motivation? Did you get a handsome paycheck for participating in our counterstrike against those interdimensional invaders? Or was it rather that it risked your business? I bet that the risk of not being paid for one job was dwarfed in comparison to the loss that would have happened if those ‘demons’ had won. You wouldn’t have a clientele. Because everyone would have been dead or enslaved. Or was it just out of the adrenaline rush that came from killing. Anyone could easily rationalize it, since the ‘demons’ are not human and, as a result of this fact, you could not be possibly committing murder.”

“So, let me try to show you a different incentive. While the annihilation of the human race is not at risk this time, as it was on D-Day, your business is. You get top dollar now because of what? You’re a metahuman who can accomplish jobs that no normal man could ever dream of. However, once this dome hits, once everyone is a metahuman, the playing field will be leveled. You won’t be special any more. You will just be another mercenary, competing for the same jobs with other superhuman hitmen. Maybe someone might not surpass you tomorrow, or the next day, or in the next year, but someone eventually will.

“Maybe Lyger was right about you. In spite of his hissy fit, I thought that what you showed us on D-Day was enough proof for me that you were not just a mere hired gun. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the only thing that you want is just to reap a cash reward and to crush some skulls along the way. Isn’t the first time I have misjudged someone. Won’t be the last.”

“Therefore, if you think that this is just a sick game that gives you license to punch people in the face and get some extra cash, then we wasted our time coming out here. I don’t care that you would get a sense of satisfaction out of killing two birds with one stone if you join us and redeem yourself against those metahumans who embarrassed you. That's now what bothers me. But we’re here to do something that no one else can do. We’re not tied down by bureaucratic red tape, unlike any other government body that could try to respond to this current threat. Even S.T.R.I.K.E. If we don’t do anything about it, then we might as well admit that they have won already.”

“If you want to help us stop this mess, then come with us. You don’t need to be a ‘hero’ in order to do the right thing. What matters is what course of action you pick to follow. A team needs to be able to rely on one another to get their respective task completed. You have to take a leap of faith with us, just as we have done with you, even though you have made it a little difficult. If we didn’t believe that you would work with us, then we wouldn’t be here now. Whatever decision you make, time is of the essence.”

The device that had shown to worldwide broadcast that was created by that ‘mad scientist’ soared up into the air a few feet and fell in a what could be described as a reverse bell-curve, landing beside Chris. Once the device was repositioned, Chris turned towards it, which, while not placing his back towards War-Pulse, orientated him so that he was perpendicular to the mercenary. While the machine was no longer between War-Pulse and Chris, the images and video that it was about to play was still visible to the mercenary.

Almost as soon as it landed, the device began to project a map of the Eastern United States. On this map, there were two red circles, one circumscribing a dot that represented Lost Haven and another that surrounded the location of Columbus, Ohio. Then, a dashed lined began to be “drawn” by the device between these two locations, connecting the dots as it were.

“I know that our next destination is a little far away, I still feel that it’s still worth it to try our luck at recruiting this last metahuman.” Chris began to speak to his three teammates, although he was still definitely within earshot from War-Pulse. While Chris was speaking, a rendering of Arachne (pre-transformation) appeared above them map, making her almost look like the MC2 Spider-Girl, just with a blonde pony-tail. “Icon, you’ll take the lead on this mission, since it seems like you know everyone caped crusader and their brother. More importantly, it would be better for her to see a friendly face. If I were to go with you, this 'Spider-Girl' probably would outright refuse us because of reasons I have already mentioned back at our meeting at Settler’s Clearing. I’ll send word to Lyger and Radiance to have the two Albany kids rendezvous with you, Icon, in Columbus.”

“Meanwhile, the rest of us will return to Lost Haven and help search for both the device that will start this mess and where their base is. Even if we are able to deactivate the device, we should still find where these creeps are hiding. If we don’t stop them here and now, what will stop them from trying this stunt again, but unannounced? Any questions?”
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by fdeviant
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fdeviant Witch o' the Wood

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6 Months Ago


Two months ago, Marie joined in the midnight revelry of her kind, her fellow witches. As a spectre she danced in the silver glow of the full moon, celebrating the power it offered, calling on her guardian and master and praising his name. Never before had Marie enjoyed the company of spirits and witches, and all of it brought about by curiosity, hers and Joseph’s. He had stirred something within her long untouched, something that Marie could scarcely recognize, real joy. In the months following, Marie returned to the forest as a spirit, dancing again with the collection of practitioners and fae at the return of the full moon, each time the circle growing larger, and her smile wider. She spoke to Joseph only when they gathered and never in the time between, for he gave her no method of contact. She had wanted to question him about the nature of magic in Lost Haven, if the community of practitioners ever came together outside of ritual circles, if they conjured together or simply enjoyed each other’s company, but no opportunity ever arose for her to ask such questions, nor had she seen him between those midnight dances . . . until now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The White Witch came out only at night, a time when the mask that hid criminal activity would also serve in hiding her identity, should it ever come into question. She made her usual rounds above Chinatown, hovering over crowded and empty streets alike with a watchful eye. Tonight seemed calm, no speeding sirens or flashing lights, no yelling or screaming for help, no visible sign of trouble. Marie yawned, longing for the comforts of her studio apartment. She craved the warmth of her bed, having missed the chance to nap before patrolling because of work running late. She flew once more over the buildings and shops, once more through dark corners and alleys, until deciding to go home for the evening. As she began the flight home, she noticed something suspicious on the street below, a man walking down the middle of the street being followed by someone a few paces behind. Marie kept a close eye on the two men as they made their way to a diner a few feet down, the first man entering, the second waiting outside the door.

As the door closed, the second man produced a small, black pouch from his coat and sprinkled its contents in a line across the doorway. Marie perked up, recognizing the act as a method of performing magic on another, forcing them to unknowingly cross a cursed or blessed line. She wasn’t sure how to act, she didn’t know the nature of the spell that was being worked. Magic is a complex art, with some spells holding a variety of components and safeguards to keep them from backfiring, or to keep others from interfering with them. Marie was powerless to stop what happened next. The door opened and out stepped the first man, crossing the line made by the second. He began walking back down the street the way he’d come holding a his order from the diner. Ten feet later, he stopped dead in his tracks, the spell’s effects now setting in. The man turned and began walking down the street, through Chinatown and to a main highway. Marie followed overhead.

As they reached the highway, with no regard for his own safety, the man walked into oncoming traffic. Cars began swerving around him, honking their horns and swearing as they blared past. Marie tried to move him from the road from afar, waving her arm to move him from the street to the sidewalk, but to no avail. The more she tried, the more drained she felt until finally, a sharp pain went through her chest, a consequence of interfering with a powerful spell. She battled the pain for a few moments as cars continued to pass the man in the street until a large truck passed, unable to stop or swerve. The truck hit the man with full force, killing him on impact. His body was thrown underneath the truck, whose large wheels ripped off skin and limbs, leaving a visceral mess underneath and behind. Marie felt sick. She turned her head only to find the perpetrator standing a few feet away. Who would do something like this? she thought as she glared at the man, unsure of how to approach the situation. Then, something sinister happened. As she battled whether or not to confront the hooded culprit, he turned towards her, looked up, and beneath the hood she saw a man with familiar features. Marie gasped, a shiver running down her spine. There stood Joseph Mathers, the witch with whom she had no contact, one whom she might have even called friend. As she stood frozen in the sky, Joseph gave her a knowing look, followed by an eerie smile and wave, before turning and disappearing into the city.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Raptorman
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Raptorman

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"An unliving, undying, unstoppable monster, that's how you start getting sacrifices in your name."
-Unknown

"Blessed be the sacred fires, blessed be the chaos, blessed be the source, blessed be the one who dwells within."
-Unknown

"And they passed through the smoke and flames and unto him."
-Unknown



Lost Haven, a great city, a city that had withstood invasion from the forces of a place you could call Hell, a city that had witnessed the arrival of Mercy who shaped reality with a whim, a city that had been wracked by strife and discord as various criminal families and organizations battled for control of the streets, and a city that now stood faced with meta-human terrorists possessed of a mad plan to turn everyone into meta-humans, was about to be reminded once again of a particular presence. The people had been hopeful that the Iron Knight and Archangel together had defeated the monster in the dark, that perhaps the nightmare of Nightmare had been ended once and for all, they had been hopeful enough to buy that the prison van torn to shreds a few days later, with body horror art left behind was just the work of a run of the mill meta human criminal, and life had gone on.

But where the people mostly hoped that things were getting better, they were about to be sorely disappointed...

The LHU stadium was packed full of people, cheering fans, coverage personnel, and the players themselves, all having a grand time. Sure it was only a college football game, but to the people involved it was the big thing. Paul Wiems lived for this. He was in his element in the announcers box. Here the only thing people needed to know about him was that he had a great voice, no one needed to know how large he was, how awkward he was when actually having to deal with people face to face. And it gave him the best seats in the house, truly a winning deal.

It was nearly time for him to make the announcements regarding half time entertainment and he was mentally reviewing what he was to say when he became aware of a presence in the box behind him. He began to turn only to stop as something hard and metal settled against the back of his neck and a distorted voice sounding as if it was coming through faint speakers sounded softly.

"You will read the statement about to be put in front of you. You will read it flawlessly. If you do, you will live. If you do not then you die. Follow any additional instructions." The odd voice cut off then, and that strange pressure on the back of his neck moved. It wasn't a gun like he had thought at first, no this was something different, something with legs. It skittered around to his front revealing itself to his eyes for a moment as it deposited several sheets of paper on the table before him. It was some sort of metallic spider thing that had what looked to be some sort of cannon apparatus growing out of its front end, the end that it was keeping pointed at him.

He didn't really know what to do in the situation but like many with a gun pointed at them Paul was quick to at least attempt to follow the instructions. He picked up the sheets of paper and switched the microphone back on. Then he began to read...

"We interrupt this game to bring you an urgent public service announcement. There has been a Nightmare siting." The words gained the attention of pretty much everybody in the stadium within seconds as play came to a halt down below and a stunned silence took the place of the earlier clamor. "He is ..." there was a long almost suspenseful pause "here." Perhaps the voice broke slightly, but it was largely drowned out as the silence gave way to panicked yelling.

And of course the darkness came. Part of the crowd vanished in seconds as the darkness seemed to manifest from nothing and there were screams of pain and agony from those caught up inside of it. In the jam packed stadium seats there was little room to maneuver and the first panicked stampede of people did not get very far before the other shoe dropped. A torrent of white fire, fire that burned far brighter and hotter than any fire should have rushed out in a stream, a stream that covered all of the exits and burned along the top of the stadium, forming a ring of balefire, almost like a cage.

The first wave of people who tried to dash through the flames vanished instantly, utterly eradicated by the supernatural fire, and there was no second. The darkness that blanketed a portion of the lower rows close to the field moved swiftly, the amorphous cloud descending to the field, leaving behind what had to be over 50 corpses in the seats within the space where it had seemingly formed. And from within the darkness came the sound of laughter, that terrible inhuman sound that had echoed from television sets across the city as the killing spree escalated.

"Tonight Nightmare is joined by Soulfire," As the announcement continued a portion of the swirling white flames flared up and a gout of flame shot into the air, solidifying into the shape of the masked woman who had been seen at several of Nightmare's more recent appearances. Her black and gold streamers fluttered in the air, taking on that illusion of wings as she drifted to the ground on the field beside the dark cloud. A hand swept out in a wave that would have seemed jaunty, had it not shot a burst of white fire into the stands, obliterating more of the trapped people in a heartbeat.

"the Architect," that name was unfamiliar, not that the terrified people really had the awareness to recognize it. And as that name was spoken another woman appeared, riding atop what seemed to be a giant metal golem, who simply wore concealing dark clothing. The golem casually strode through the crowd, squishing some people underfoot as it and it's rider made their was down to the field.

"and a special welcome to this evening's special guest. The Cannibal King!" This time the entrance was more dramatic. In the middle of the field a spire ruptured the earth and stretched upwards. It was a cold white, the color of freshly polished bones and as it emerged it began to change, forming into a shape that the stuff of nightmares. A figure, twice the size of a normal man, seemingly clad in a suit of plate armor made from bones stood there. From his helm rose two great horns, curving upwards in a wicked fashion.

The man pointed to one of the clusters of players who had formerly been the gods upon the field and made a gesture. The players exploded, their bones ripping free from their flesh and then reassembling themselves into crude skeletal figures. These skeletal creations then began to move into the crowd, grabbing people and dragging them down onto the field.

A new sound came next, perhaps the one most expected. The terrible booming voice of Nightmare himself sounded from within the dark cloud. "PEOPLE OF LOST HAVEN. AS YOU DIE TONIGHT ASK YOURSELVES. WHERE WERE YOUR PROTECTORS? WHERE WERE YOUR HEROES?" And then the darkness swarmed forward, back into the stands and the screams of pain joined those of terror. There was no escape, no where to run, no where to hide, and there was no help coming. Some even despaired, not moving as the darkness came for them and Nightmare's laughter echoed loudly amidst the screams and sounds of tearing flesh.

But it was not only Nightmare for the Cannibal King's skeletons were not idle, dragging struggling people down into the field where something equally gruesome was taking place. More of Soulfire's white flames had carved out a pit and then she filled it with regular fire. While the Cannibal King stretched forth a hand and grew a narrow shaft of bone that he stretched across the pit like a bridge, a bridge that the people were made to walk across. Many fell into the flames to die screaming, but many also came to the giant armored figure on the other end. The giant figure whose helm was no open, and who tore open the throats of all who came to him, having their blood pour out onto the white bones of his armor and the skeletal face that lay beneath.

The Architect was the only one who seemed less involved, her golem stomping on a few people who came to close but otherwise simply seemed to be observing.

It would have seemed to take hours, but in truth the butchering of well over a thousand people took place in less than 30 minutes, and as the dead replaced the living the killers gathered the bodies in the field, those that had pieces left to gather. And when the last had died and all were gathered the darkness of Nightmare exploded outwards, blanketing nearly the entire stadium before fading away and leaving no trace of the four killers. Well, aside from their calling cards.

A gruesome construct dominated the center of the field, a tree of bones, shaped from the dead in vast numbers, and upon the trees branches were the mangled and mutilated remnants of other victims, arms and legs impaled upon spike-like protrusions, heads mounted on others, and other things better left unmentioned. Surrounding the great tree of corpses was the newest message, much larger than usual and stretching across most of the field in a manner that said it was meant to be seen from above.

HELLO LOST HAVEN
7 OF 20
WHERE ARE YOUR HEROES?
WHERE ARE YOUR GUARDIANS?
WHERE ARE YOUR METAL MEN?
WE CHALLENGE THEM.
RECRUITING
NIGHTMARE
SOULFIRE
CANNIBAL KING
ARCHITECT
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Athinar
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Athinar Big Stupid. Veteran from Oldguild.

Member Seen 12 mos ago



“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down, Angel. Take a few deep breaths and relax. I was not trying to stress you out with what I said, I’m just trying to keep things real with you. The truth of the matter is that there the only person who can decide your purpose is you, pal. There is no ominous force that tells you what’s right and what’s wrong, no higher power holding your hand, and if there is they’re just an asshole trying to get you on their side. At the end of the day, the only person you get to hold accountable is yourself. You can’t blame anyone else for the actions you take and you can’t go back and change them, no matter how much it is going to keep you awake at night.”


The mercenary clapped him on the shoulder, looking at him in the eye. Angel, unsure of how to deal with the sudden advice, looked down, not able to look back at Trent. However, with the shoulder clap came some advice. Without mistakes, how would anyone even know what not to do? He told Angel that it was only human, that everyone, even if they didn't make the same mistake, makes mistakes at some point. Angel agreed with the mercenary's statement, but... Angel wasn't supposed to have made such a stupid mistake in the first place.

Forcing Angel to look him in the eyes, Trent continued.

“Take it from me, Angel. You have a hell of a heart, and that’s something to be friggin’ proud of. You could take those powers and do anything, you could coast for the rest of your life hacking old lady’s bank accounts and living off their credit cards until you grow old and die, but you don’t. You pick your ass up and try to save your city, damned what the law says. Are you going to screw up sometimes? Absolutely, everyone does, but it’s our actions in the face of challenge that makes us who we are, that’s part of letting your actions stand for what you believe. You don’t need this half-assed pep talk to work for it every goddamn day of your goddamn life. You know what you want to do, and you will do anything to get it. That is the one definitive thing I see when I look at you, and that’s something I see as one hell of a good thing. Just stay true to who you are and nobody will have the right to judge you for it.”


Letting go of his shoulder, and floating upwards, Trent told him that it was time for him to leave, and that Angel should lay low for a while. Nodding, Angel was about thank Trent, but the merc kept speaking, so the young man shut his mouth, and listened. What he said was worth listening to. He could keep the money, AND he didn't lose the fight? Wow. Trent was way more generous than Angel had gave him credit for, before their talk.

Smiling now, over his sadness (for now,) he gave him a big thumbs up, and said, "I'll be sure to not hold back! Thanks for the talk, man!"

Turning around, and stepping towards the dented garage door in the ATD, he bent down, and grabbing it by the bottom, pushed it upward, and with the sound of screeching metal, it gave, slamming against the top of the track. Looking inside, Angel groaned. The place was an absolute mess. With bits of metal, debris from the ceiling and walls, and the robotic arms strewn about the floor, there was no way he was about to move back in. Dammit. Why must S.T.R.I.K.E. not let me have nice things?

Reaching out with his metahuman ability, Angel tried to access any working machine, but everything was pretty much destroyed. There were two things he could possibly activate, the monitor on the floor, and the speaker system in his office, and with the thorium reactor disabled, there was no way they would start without power. Stepping inside, and walking through the wreckage, nudging aside shattered robotic arms, shards of metal, and general debris, he dropped out of the cockpit, looking over the recharge station, to see if there was anything to salvage.

Landing in a crouch, he stood up, and stretched, popping his back, then cracking his knuckles. He had work to do, picking up what he could salvage. It would be unwise for him to stay in the same place, so he would need to find another base. Sifting among the wreckage, he would work late into the night, picking up useful bits and pieces, and gathering them into trash bags, tying them all together with a bungee cord that was miraculously still in one piece. Synching up with the ATD suit, he picked them all up, and carried them in the massive hand. Clambering back up into the cockpit, he left the ruined factory. He did feel bad about all of the progress lost, and the loss of a bunch of equipment, but at least he wasn't in S.T.R.I.K.E.'s clutches. Heading into the night, out into the darkness of the roadside beyond the sparse roadlights, Angel pulled up a map of available buildings in Lost Haven.

A large facility, on the outskirts of town to the north, an abandoned automobile factory, was one of the more promising ones, with ample opportunity to salvage, a large facility which he could easily mask most signatures under the heavy concrete and steel beams. However, a renovation of the place would take forever, and Angel couldn't risk getting caught by S.T.R.I.K.E. with his pants down, defenseless.

Another option was a garage in the French Quarter, which seemed to be for sale, and while it wasn't in an abandoned neighborhood, it had thick walls, which should mask some of the sound of the work he would be doing. In addition to that, it was close to the University, and he would have a cover story of being a student, working at the garage to pay for college. They both had advantages, but... it would be a serious decision. However, the advantages to the garage in the French Quarter were too great, the building would be secure, it was in a loud neighborhood, and most importantly, S.T.R.I.K.E. wouldn't expect him to go there.

Placing a call to a truck rental place, Angel stepped out of the ATD, taking a deep breath of the night air.

And waited.
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by VATROU
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VATROU The Barron

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In a singular moment the trio was gone, just as the police arrived to canvas the scene they were teleported into an utterly massive library of sorts. Rows and rows of books alongside tables filled to the brim with otherworldly artifacts some stacked with teetering piles of books miles high strewn about haphazardly. In this magical place where eyeballs blinked from the inside of jars and teeth from unknown beings lay in dishes Merlin stood before Eva her weight shifted to her right leg with her haughty attitude shining through.

Well. I can’t say you haven’t trained her, she’ll need more experience however before she’s to take on bigger threats.”

Bigger how?” Eva chimed in curiously.

Merlin smirked as she walked over to a telescope. “You can’t see it from here, but a battle of gods is taking place in this solar system. Gods with the power to destroy your little world here. One day soon they may well decide upon doing just that when this world bores them.”

Gods, literal gods? As in God almighty?” Merlin lingered for a moment as she smiled at her comment.”More or less I suppose. The Thorian Thrasher was but a test, while you do hold potential you lack the means to defend this world from greater threats, that’s why I brought you here. Well not entirely. I don’t have what you need here, but from this place you can go where you are required.”

How exactly? Don’t tell me more teleportation.. Great.” Eva said with little enthusiasm in her voice. “Yes, and No. You won’t be teleporting the doors will.” Merlin strode over to a doorway with a table with sturdy legs and a globe centered within a set of rings with increments etched into the rings. “This place is anchored to a real Library. That New York place.”

Wait.” Eva said in surprise. “You don’t mean the New York public library.”

That’s the one.”

You can’t use the library as your home, that’s like Illegal right? And dangerous!”

I’m not using it, only a door inside of it. It’s not like anyone can enter no matter how hard they try. Peasants don’t have that kind of power. But you. You’ll be able to come and go from here as you please. All you need is this ring, and you can access the door here from anywhere. And using this globe here you can travel to any place that has a door.”

Eva looked towards Merlin suspiciously. “That’s kinda convenient isn’t it? So why am I getting this feeling of unease?”

There’s nothing to worry about. If you were to experience any temporal disturbances from gateway shifts it would be almost harmless.”

“What!? Mostly harmless. What’s the other dangers then?”

Oh.” Merlin exclaimed. “Just nausea, vomiting, dismemberment and death. To name a few minor side effects.”

Minor. Riight. So death is a minor thing for you good to know. So what now. I step through and can go, what anywhere?”

Merlin shrugged. “You can. But there’s no point really, not unless you like traveling. For now this Lost Haven is where you’ll find this Pax Metahumana Criminal, go ahead step through the door. You have much to learn..”

Arthur having kept quiet as he floated about mumbled under his breath. “I’ll just be over here then. Keeping busy.. I think.”

Eva cautiously spun the globe several times as she kept over shooting her destination to Merlin’s distain.”Do you not know basic geography? These Schools. Do they not teach those things..”

SHUT IT! I.. I know what I’m doing. Bloody hell. I don’t need your..” With a snap of Merlin’s fingers the globe stopped suddenly on Lost Haven as the door inside the frame shifted form to represent the door in the world. “Help.” Eva said as her spirit sank. “FINE! I’ll just go find this Villain then, at least that doesn’t involve your help.” She said as she stepped through the doorway and onto the Streets as she drew a few odd looks. As she looked about she realized why they were staring. She just walked out of a Strip Club. “That Bitch.” Throwing her hoodie over her head she strolled down the street trying to vacate the area as soon as possible.

Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by NeutralNexus
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NeutralNexus

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It is fact there is no sound in space. There is no air to carry the sound through, and even if there was, there would be no one to hear it.

And yet, in that moment, if one were near the asteroid belt, they could swear they could hear screaming. In an instant the entity known as Umbraxis, the blackened cloud that dwarfed moons, was engulfed by light, wreathed in an aura that lit the heavens in a blinding gleam. The darkness was curled back, writhing and twitching before ultimately enveloped in the destructive power that was brought to its doorstep. The power ripped through the skies, seeming to track down whatever pieces of the eternal shadow it could and destroy it, rending it from the fabrics of space and time in a violent coalescence of brilliance.

The vibrations stopped only after what seemed like hours, the powerful attack eventually subsiding and billowing into the emptiness of space.

Had the entity finally been stopped?

Had the attack ended the eternal shadow?

The answer came in shocking disappointment as the swirling mass flowed back into vision, a wispy fog of eternal night flourishing back into vision, the very movements causing cold shudders among the celestial plane.

Though it bore no ocular means at the moment, the attacker would know very well that Umbraxis had its full attention on her now. It snaked through the cosmos, propelling its way through the cosmos towards the other entity, grasping with wispy tendrils as it neared.

Was that it? Was this your grand plan to stop me?

Those were the words that crossed the girl’s mind, the mighty reach of the eternal void surrounding her, choking her in its darkness, its overbearing sense of oblivion weighing down on her very essence.

What were you planning now? Were you planning to return to Earth? Commended in your victory as you wiped away my power?

The gloaming energies swirled around her, blocking her escape and closing in on her. They twisted and pulled, inching closer to her in an attempt to swallow her whole.

Come, little Mercy. Tell me what else you have to offer, or submit to the end of all.

As its words came in more clarity, there was a hint of curiosity in its tone. This being, this shining beacon that had appeared on its doorstep, it was certainly more than it had encountered on Earth, a winged entity much reminiscent of Earth's 'angels'. She bore a anger, her emotions in conflict with one another, it could tell by the grim emotions it could read on her face as it tried to envelop her.

Perhaps Earth did have such god-like beings after all? The twilight horror would have to investigate further, it did so love to be tested.

It made the inevitable defeat all the more sweeter.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by The Fair Lady
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The Fair Lady

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It was not enough.

But it did something.

I know it did.

I had not expected but I had dared to hope that the destruction, the very sundering of matter itself would be enough to erase the sickness. But now I see as it flows back towards me that it was more vast than even I had realized at first, that for all the threads of twining corruption that I had erased from existence there were still so many more. I do not despair. I do not panic. But even so when the sickness' voice sounds against the edges of my awareness once again I feel shudders of unease. The most destructive force I have ever unleashed was not enough. I am a healer and yet I find myself forced to destroy and even destruction may not be enough.

I broadcast defiance in the face of Pestilence, my own will resounding with a single word. "No!"

The dark threads of corruption swirl around me again, approaching my form and struggling to find purchase against my flesh. It is a sickness of hunger, a devourer, and it seeks now to devour me. I will not let it win. My hands rise and space distorts as I tear a hole and form a bridge. It is easier here for I do not wound the World by my actions.

Before the sickness can truly find purchase upon me I move. My form soars through the hole that I have opened and emerges even closer to the asteroid belt. Poor fragments of a failed World these pieces may be, but they are relics that may now save one that lives on. My will reaches out to the ones around me, encasing them and commanding them to change.

"I have only begun to fight! You shall not have this World!"

And as my will resounds once more I give another command. The fragments I have changed now move, flying into the coming mass of darkness before detonating in the same fashion that the piece of the World had. But they are not so large and mass matters with such weapons. I begin to doubt. It is so vast, if even the great wrath of the World was not enough how would this be?

I banish the thought for...

I am Mercy.

I am the World's chosen.

I will not allow myself to fail!

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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by FacePunch
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FacePunch Death Comes

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Boom shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Her muscles tensed as War Pulse scanned the two speedsters. He was trying to get a read on them, she'd wager. That wouldn't be difficult; at least not for someone of his caliber. Laura wiped the sweat from her brow and tried to stand straighter and appear a bit tougher. The way the merc's eyes moved...the way he observed every motion she and her brother made...It was disconcerting. Like he was staring right into her soul. Laura made note of War Pulse's stance. She'd studied martial arts, particularly American kick boxing, since she was a little girl. And Laura recognized the bent knees and wide movements instantly. This guy knew how to fight; better than the speedsters did, she imagined. But that wouldn't save him, not when he was faced with a four on one situation where everyone (well, almost everyone) involved was on his level. It was the criminal's confidence that gave Boom pause. The way he looked Icon and Thunderbolt and everyone else right in the eye, unflinching, was damn frightening. Laura couldn't imagine standing up to a guy who can hold up a space station and his three allies who were just as intense without the least bit of concern.

The 'Winter Soldier,' as Arthur had code-named the terrorist, paced in front of the heroes. He spoke nonchalantly, as if he was among friends. Again with the confidence. He was manipulating the audience, as any decent speaker does. War Pulse wanted them to believe he was invincible. Untouchable. It was working. Boom questioned herself. Pull it together, girl. He's just acting. The guy's probably sweating bullets. 'Sides, you've got Icon to keep you safe. What's the worst he could do?

Icon and Iron Knight's attempts to appeal to War Pulse's humanity backfired. The mercenary saw right through what they were trying to do and shot the plan down right quick. It wasn't until he questioned the team's motives for even being here that Boom stepped forward and addressed War Pulse herself. "Listen, dickhead." She started, her voice solid and her eyes denoted her staunch will. "Frankly? I don't give a shit about you 'seeing the light.' I just want another big gun and I don't care how we get you on board. But Icon and Knight here? They're genuine. If they say you can be redeemed, then I believe it too." Boom paused before smirking slightly. "I would've paid you, personally. But Iron Knight's a Scrooge." Thunderbolt offered his sister a subtle thumbs up when War Pulse's attention shifted away.

"You don't need to be a Good Samaritan to be a hero." Thunderbolt said. "Not all of use cape and tights types are as perfect as Icon. We don't ask that you are, either. Just as long as you point your guns at the bad guys, you're a hero in my book." The speedster interjected when the mercenary claimed that they had 'pegged him for someone else.'

"I'm fine; really." Boom replied whilst suppressing a giggle, waving off War Pulse's concern. She'd had long enough to rest and would be back to full in a few minutes. The pretty young lady comment hadn't gone over her head but she chose to ignore it. Harvey would have a hissy fit if she flirted with a terrorist/mercenary. Thunderbolt was already giving her the evil eye.

The conversation continued for a couple more minutes. War Pulse was in, if only to get back at the Pax Metahumana freaks for kicking the crap outta him earlier. Iron Knight wasn't done and continued to preach. He droned on for awhile; long enough for Boom to space out a few times. All of it was directed at the mercenary anyway, so there wasn't anything significant she could get out of the conversation. Thunderbolt did his civic duty and absorbed every word that was said, as he always did. He had gotten used to it, what with all of the garbage he puts up with working for the Lost Haven Police Department. A whole lot of talking with nothing getting done.

What Boom did notice, however, was Iron Knight's refusal to shake War Pulse's hand. The heroine's brow furrowed in frustration. Prick. Laura grumbled mentally. Was it really that hard to be diplomatic about things? Sure, Chris disagreed with the guy's reasons for joining them. But what does it matter if his heart isn't in the right place? The merc agreed; it should have been left at that.

Before long Iron Knight led the rest of the team to the side and left War Pulse to chew on what he'd said. Arthur went over the next phase of his master plan. Icon would be splitting off from the rest of the team to go and find another hero, some sort of spider/girl hybrid, and recruit her as well. Meanwhile the main squad would head back to Lost Haven and search the city for the bomb as well as the bad guy's hideout, which he believed would be in different locations. Boom nodded her head in understand of the plan and prepared to head back to the city with her brother. Before she left, Laura turned towards the mercenary. "Hey War?" She called. "You made the right choice. Now let's go kick some ass!" The two speedsters sped away in a cloud of smoke, a trail of blue light behind each of them.
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