Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by NeutralNexus
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NeutralNexus

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For the past few minutes, the surly mercenary had been leaning against a wall in the corner of the room, his facemask unzipped to drape lightly around his neck like a handkerchief as the rest of the so-called team filed in through the elevator. Though most of the newcomers were strangers to him, a few he had recognized, but kept quiet about it. Only when the two speedsters entered did he manage to flash a meager but sincere smile and nod as they came in, a nod in acknowledgement as they passed as an accompaniment. From the minute he stepped out of the elevator until his original exchange with Chris, it had become clear there was definitely a tension with having him around at all. Even as the other capes and suits came barreling in they all had kept a wide berth of the professional vagrant. It made sense, these were all vigilantes and heroes, men and women who put their life on the line to save the day, why would any one of them approach him willingly? His face has been plastered on the news

However, he was more than willing to speak up when Chris handed him the floor, his charismatic, cocky smirk crawling upon his face as he leisurely walked among the group.

“I’d be happy to fill everyone in, since all the meddling kids are here now.” He quipped to Chris, surveying each member now with a quick glance. “After all, between the group of manimals, the tin cans with machine guns, the epitome of boy scouts, and the girl dressed like she just left a LARP, I think we’ve got this mission in the bag.”

“Could you just once take this seriously?” Warden’s voice broke into the room, echoing from a device muffled in War-Pulse’s coat. “We’ve got valuable time we are wasting on your posturing.”

“Alright, alright, keep your shirt on, I’m getting there.” The merc sighed, reaching into his jacket to pull out a device, Chris would immediately recognize it as the one that he had used to project the news reports to the mercenary when recruiting him, War-Pulse happy to confirm this suspicion with a cheeky grin sent Chris’ way. “Anywho, as some of you may know, my name is War-Pulse, and I’m the only one in this room who may know what you’re up against.”

“What my client means to say is that due to his incompetence he is now forced to right the mistakes he has made to avoid a total metahuman catastrophe.” Warden interjected, causing the mercenary’s face to droop and his brow to furrow.

“Y’know, when you say it like that, you make me sound like a screw up.”

“Circumstances providing, that’s not wrong. However, it is beside the point, I have collected key intel that will assist in this assault and possible opponents you are to face.”

“Well then, why don’t you share that, Warden? If you want to out yourself as the information guru that you are, how about you take the stand?” War-Pulse huffed, flipping a switch and dropping the device to the floor.

“Gladly.” Warden responded, the device coming to a halt right before it smash along the floorboards, hovering in place before supply emitting a blue light. “Before he came here to assist you, my client was hired to poison Lost Haven’s water supply with a series of poisons. However, the biological attack was thwarted by four possible affiliates with the man my affiliate referred to as ‘Mr. Long Neck.’”

As Warden spoke, the blue light began to emit holograms, separated images of the actual fight from what looked like hacked city cameras, each getting a large chunk of the fight before blinking out from being destroyed or deactivated by the fight. They seemed to pause and zoom in on particular characters with each mention of the marauders, stopping first on a woman who was half-woman, half-spider.

“This was the first of the four to assault my associate, her name is unknown, but her lower half had the qualities of an enlarged Black Widow spider, noticeably by the hourglass symbol on her abdomen and the webbing she shot at War-Pulse” The cameras fixated on still images of the woman and her actions during the fight, showing brief moments of her conversing with War-Pulse, and subsequently the moment when she was standing over him and seductively parting his hair before attacking.

“Yeah, webbing, agility, the whole spider-shebang. She said she knew Aubrey as well, which causes a bit of concern.” War-Pulse added, glancing over to the young college girl. “Unless you know of any other superhuman spider-woman who I quote ‘has a rack that would make Power-Girl blush’.”

“Which presents a possible connection with her, Aubrey, and the shark man who also attacked Mr. Pulse.” Warden continued, the images and video beginning to highlight the aforementioned ‘shark man’ and his brief exchange of fists and feet with the mercenary. “This one’s powers manifested as super-strength, a durable hide, and a bite like a shark, though with some experimentation, we found it certainly bares other similarities with a real shark, like the large influx of nerve clusters located in the subject’s nose.” The hologram highlighted the moment when War-Pulse struck the shark man’s nose to stun him before slamming him into a car by his feet. “It is circumstantial evidence at this point, but I can’t imagine this to be a coincidence. Considering the apparent high percentage of animal based metahumans now present among both this task force and that assault squad.”

“Yeah, but that’s where the similarities end, the other two attackers had very different powersets.” War-Pulse added, motioning to a hollow, faceless man among the holograms as he spoke. “Namely, one of them had mine.”

The man in question was focused on very briefly, as his true form was seen only for a moment before he touched War-Pulse and immediately shifting to become an exact replica of the mercenary.

“Though a few verbal exchanges, we were led to believe this one’s name was Effigy, and his namesake very clearly defines exactly what he can do. By touch, he was able to replicate both the form and powers of War-Pulse. How it is done and to what extent can he mimic a power is relatively unknown. It is advised to give this one a wide berth and attack him from afar, he needs physical contact to mimic your abilities.”

“Not to mention we don’t know how many forms he can take and for how long he can hold onto some powers.” The merc mentioned. “If this guy comes out, hit him hard and fast, the sooner we can take him out of the fight, the less we have to deal with his shapeshifting bullshit.”

“Though even with that formidable idea, he may not be the most dangerous of the four assailants.” Warden said, highlighting the last of the party. “A silver-garbed woman, unknown in name, but the ace in their hand for sure.”

“You can say that again, that bitch made me see things...things I’d live forever without ever seeing again.” War-Pulse said, his glare seeming to bore holes into the holograms of her. With every image, his fists clenched in rage, the hum of energy becoming audible as the air around the mercenary began to distort and hiss as kinetic power emanated off of the silver-clad brawler. “I swear if I see her again...I’ll....”

“Curb your enthusiasm, Pulse, you should not fight her again.” Warden replied. “The woman, through audible commands and what I assume is some sort of pheromone control, she forced War-Pulse to hallucinate, and ultimately cost him the fight.

“Pheromone control?!” War-Pulse objected. “Bullshit, that was magic! She waggled her fingers and mumbled some mumbo-jumbo. We’ve seen demons and supernatural monsters, I don’t think magic can be ruled out!”

Warden did not acknowledge War-Pulse’s outburst directly, instead continuing with his assessment as if the comment wasn’t brought up. “Either way, she should be considered extremely dangerous, anyone who has things they’d rather not relive should not engage her under any circumstances. She alone could compromise any one of you without a good mental focus.”

“Whatever, that’s all of them, and subsequently all we know.” War-Pulse said. “Should be enough to--”

“Well, not necessarily. There is one more thing that may be of assistance.” Warden said.

“Ah, wait, Warden, I--”

“They should know. We may be incriminated, but at this point we all need to be in on the loop if we are to prevent and possibility of failure”

“I know, but shouldn’t tin can man know already, do we have to share it?”

“It’s necessary.”

“Fiiine, but I’m warning you Warden, you’re putting us both on the law’s chopping block!”

“Before you found us, War-Pulse had been hired to free a man known to you as Equilibrium from a nearby STRIKE base.” Warden began, the hologram changing to reveal what looks like extensive streams of data before showing a vial, followed by what seemed to be an intensive ingredients list in the solution. “And the four who attacked us only stopped us after we had succeeded in contaminating three other sites of water filtration. I’m led to believe that the vial they stole from us was instrumental in creating the metahuman bombs currently littering the nation. On top of this, the information we took from STRIKE during the raid of the base informs me that STRIKE managed to quarantine and isolate the contaminates, both keeping Lost Haven safe from our attempts and collecting samples of the data. If someone were to identify and reverse engineer the compound, they might be able to cure the ones who were infected by the current metahuman bombs. That is only a hypothesis, someone with more biological or medical expertise might be able to find out more, but I firmly belief that our poison attack and the current crisis are connected.”

“Great, now that I’m officially incriminated and my reputation tarnished, does anyone have any other strategies regarding the current crisis?” War-Pulse huffed, glaring at the party now inevitably judging his actions. “Or are we just all going to assault the base we think this guy’s in and hope for the best?”
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by EnterTheHero
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EnterTheHero Heir to the Throne of the Roaming Rhullo

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Lost Haven Center for Disease Control and Prevention


==~==


Dr. Gabriel Cole looked through the microscope at the latest of the many blood samples he'd collected from one Racheli L. Desdemona, brow knit in consternation as he tried to determine just what it was he was looking at. Or at least, that was how it would look to anyone else not privy to certain details.

He had been quite surprised to get the call in the first place, if he was being honest. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he had a life outside of his... hobby. Regardless, his work at the university had apparently garnered some attention- particularly his expertise in biomechanics. So, naturally, when the CDC got a patient suffering from a strange, partially mechanical pathogen with an unknown infection vector, his name was near the top of the list of people to call.

He'd figured the call was related to Racheli soon into the call, when the woman on the other side of the call explained the nature of the girl's "infection," or at least, what they were allowed to tell him over the phone, before he was briefed on the nature of his consultation. And so, he'd come, ostensibly to observe and assess the patient, but mostly just the observe part. Hell, it had taken a substantial amount of willpower to not reveal everything he already knew, and slip into his role of never having seen this technology before.

At the very least, it'll keep that Justine woman off my back for a while longer, if I can let her know Rach is safe.

It hadn't been that hard to determine who the swordswoman was, given the facts of the night of the riots, and the fortuitous nature of her appearance. Honestly, he was surprised that he didn't figure out sooner- granted, he'd been distracted, but when you could think as fast as he could, that wasn't an excuse. Regardless, he'd gotten in contact with the woman shortly after his consultation here had started, letting her know the specifics (what he was allowed to divulge, anyhow) of Rach's stay here.

At the very least, the experience was proving to be illuminating- he hadn't exactly gotten the opportunity to monitor his own transformation, so being able to witness the process firsthand was of significant interest. At present, the Phylactery- for of course, that's what it was- was approaching critical saturation of Racheli's cells, reinforcing and enhancing their functionality as time went on. Some of the cells he'd seen had already begun displaying signs of transmutation- the second phase of the Phylactery's bonding process. The affected cells resembled the red blood cells they were imitating, albeit too well, too idealized, the curves too perfectly designed to be anything except, well, designed.

The fact that they were black didn't help the illusion.

He sighed as some of the scientists on call moved down the hall, toward Rach's unit. Despite what he knew, he couldn't just up and tell the staff here that Rach's "pathogen" was not contagious without some kind of evidence. Which meant tests that he already knew the answers to, pretending he didn't for the sake of making a convincing case for Rach's release. It wasn't even like she was the only meta of her nature, anyway, even excluding himself. But then, no one else seemed to notice the meta part just yet. He sighed- no longer being human was more trouble than it was worth sometimes. Too much noticing things no one else did.

Well, there was little he could do about that now- he just had to gather enough evidence to prove his hypothesis to everyone else here, and Rach would be allowed to return to her life. And moreover, he'd have a chance to talk to her privately about her condition, help her with what he knew she was going through even now. Assuming the nanites had hit her brain by now, which he had no reason to think they hadn't.

Don't worry, Racheli. I'll have you out of here soon enough. Then, I can really start helping you.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by KaiserElectric
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KaiserElectric Spaghetti Enthusiast

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A Xeno's Arrival


By the time the private flight from England had arrived in Robert D. Sherman airport it was late in the day, the sun dipping just below the horizon with only the faintest remnants of a reddish-gold sky to show it was even there. As the small plane slowly taxied up to the terminal, the half-alien hybrid girl Riley pressed her face against the window excitedly, trying to get a small glimpse of the distant sunset before it vanished into darkness. Mina had showed her pictures of what the sun looked like just before the day turned to night, but she'd never gotten to see an actual "sunset" before, since it had been raining and cloudy ever since she left Darrow behind her. Sadly, Riley was left with disappointment as the plane approached a stop and the terminal building blocked the last of the sunset from view, but it didn't bother her too much. After all, sunsets happen every day, so she'd be sure to see another one soon!

"Miss Mina, Miss Mina, We're here!" Riley shouted, bouncing on her toes with excitement and nearly making the ex-scientist drop her phone in shock at the sudden outburst.

"Y-yeah, I felt it stop," Mina Seidel said shakily, readjusting her glasses as she stumbled from her seat. "Nice to have both feet back on the ground, I guess. Surprised I didn't get airsick."

"Air-sick?" Mina asked, mulling over the pronunciation of the unfamiliar word in her head before her eyes widened in shock. "You didn't almost get diseased, did you?!?"

"No, no, it's just a term! Some people just get a little nauseous when they fly, it's perfectly normal and if I get it I'm not going to die from it, honest."

"Ohhh, okay," Riley said with her usual smile. "I am happy that you were not afflicted with sickness of the air, then!"

"Sickness of the air?" came a voice from the cockpit as a cloud of cigarette smoke followed by the Dutch pilot Van Hassel appeared in the small doorway. "There's some bags under the seat right there, if you need it."

"I'm not airsick!" Mina huffed. "I just want to get off the plane and see Jordan so I can try to explain this mess to her."

"Well, slight problem with that," Van Hassel said, the cigarette in his mouth quivering as he pressed his hair back with his free hand. "The boss is currently in New York and thanks to these 'Pax Metahummus' people or whatever they call themselves, it's pretty much impossible to move anyone in and out of the major cities on the East Coast right now. So until this dies down we're all pretty much stuck in Lost Haven."

"Stuck?" Mina repeated, her face flushing red as her anxiety mounting. "But we were supposed to meet with Jordan as soon as we got here! I told her we might have been in danger, why the bloody hell doesn't she-"

"Whoa whoa take a smoke break, Seidel," Van Hassel interrupted her, holding out his hands in a pacifying gesture. "She's pulling every favor she's owed to get up here, and we're not expecting you to camp out on the tarmac until then. There's an Arbalest office right in Little Ulster that we use as a barracks and a safehouse that we prepared in case this happened. Believe me, you're in good hands with Arbalest." Riley gave a small start at those words, unnoticed by either of the two humans. Fear welled inside her as she was reminded of who had sad that to her before.

You're in good hands, my dear...

Riley tried to tear her mind away from Him, and what had happened back at the Darrow Labs. Jordan wasn't supposed to be like Him, Mina had said. He was evil and selfish and enjoyed hurting people like her. Jordan was brave and kind and liked to help people, to protect them from the bad people. Like how...how she protected Mina when He tried to hurt her.

"You two had better get going," Van Hassel said suddenly in his droning tone of voice, knocking Riley out of her reminiscing haze for a bit. "I arranged a ride for you to get to the safehouse, escorts and all. I'd take you myself but I have to park this thing and go supervise the idiots in French Quarter. Our guys will let me and Jordan know when you get there safely. Look for the guy in the brown tweed suit, he's waiting at the entrance for you."

"Brown tweed suit, got it," Mina repeated to herself as Riley lifted up the hood on the jacket she was wearing, her eyes gently glowing purple as she cast a psychic suggestion with her powers. It was a neat little trick she worked on with Mina that made other people subconsciously ignore her very inhuman features and allowed her to blend in with other humans. It was a handy way to practice controlling the somewhat unstable energy that fueled her power as well as a clever disguise for her to slip through a crowd without drawing attention.

"Thank you so much for your help, Mr. Van Tassel," Riley said with sincerity as she followed Mina off of the small plane.

"Call me Smokey, everyone does," 'Smokey' said nonchalantly as he exhaled another puff of noxious cigarette fumes. "Now go."

Neither of the girls needed convincing. As they left the plane, Mina made a beeline for the terminal as Riley gave one last wave at the cockpit before bouncing along after her, substantially more cheerful then the nervous scientist. As they entered the building and Mina talked her way through security with Riley in tow, the half-alien girl took a cautious look around, her purple eyes filled with innocent curiosity. It was a very sterile and businesslike place, kind of like the 'metro' terminal she saw back in England, with colorful posters and large potted plants at every corner to break up the monotonous repetition of tiles and gray carpeting. Riley was much more interested in all the people gathered in a large waiting area near where they came in, but as she looked out at them her senses detected a flurry of emotions; Anger, confusion, desperation, sadness, and above all, fear. Haunting, paralyzing fear. Riley pressed into a few of the minds there and heard them thinking about loved ones, friends and family, hoping that they were safe, or convinced that they were gone. Her smile faltering at these thoughts, Riley's eyes turned to look at the array of televisions attached to the wall that most of these people were staring at. They were all covered with scrawling lines of text and unfamiliar people speaking with grim expressions, but the most striking images were ones were of the cities and buildings that Riley didn't recognize, all covered by that strange glowing dome. Was that the thing that was causing all of this chaos? Was that the thing people were so afraid of?

"I think that's him," Mina said cautiously, pointing out a rather serious-looking man in a brown tweed jacket waving in their direction, holding up a white card with the symbol of a blue shield and crossbow clearly visible on it. "Come on Riley, he looks kind of impatient with us."

Riley wordlessly followed, the usual spring in her step gone as her thoughts lingered on the fear surrounding her. She tried to pry her thoughts away from the miasma by focusing on the stranger waiting for them, who introduced himself as Hoxton in a strange English accent and escorted the two girls outside to a waiting car. Mina didn't seem to notice Riley's unusual silence as she fussed over the security details with Hoxton, leaving Riley alone with her thoughts and her feelings. As the airport vanished from sight and the buildings of what Mina called "Little Ulster" sprouted around her, Riley could still feel that miasma of fear coming from those buildings. People were afraid here worse then ever. Afraid of being hurt, afraid of losing their family, afraid of the bad men that roamed the streets. Every turn, every new building brought new fears for Riley to observe, and the more she saw, the more restless she became. She knew she and Mina were in danger, but every time a new fearful thought came to her, she wanted to cry out and tell them that they weren't alone. That she was there, and that she wanted to help them. But they were so faint, and there were so many. What could she possibly do?

As the car pulled to a stop at a traffic light, Riley suddenly gasped as a new emotion hit her like a sledgehammer. It was the same fear that covered the city, but it was different this time. More pronounced, more urgent, and too close to dismiss out of hand. Strong fear, the same fear that she sensed Mina felt before Riley saved her from that wicked man.

"Someone's in trouble," Riley announced to the car in an unusually deadpan tone. Mina turned to look at her curiously, only now noticing the emotional state she was in.

"Riley, it's okay," Mina said in a calming tone. "There's a lot of bad things going on right now but-"

"Someone's going to be hurt!" Riley announced again, more forcefully then the last time as her eyes widened with horror. "They're afraid that...that they're going to die!" Riley's horrified expression began to melt away as something clicked into place in her head, her eyes beginning to glow an ominous purple.

"I won't let that happen."

There was a flash of purple, and Riley was gone.

---

"Looks like we got a feisty one, boys. Hold him down and clean out his pockets."

Joey screamed his head off and tried in vain to free himself as the two beefy men with punk haircuts and piercings violently went through his jacket and pants pockets for valuables. He nearly got one wrist free in his struggle, only to be rewarded with a sharp blow to the jaw and the taste of blood in his mouth as he was dragged to his feet again, the two thugs still holding onto him like a pair of vices. As his eyes refocused on his surroundings, he saw the tattooed and spike-haired ringleader of the group smiling at him, waving Joey's wallet in front of him mockingly.

"Thanks for the donation, kiddo," he said with a leering grin, revealing quite a few golden teeth in the process. "Now what do we say to Uncle Jimmy, son?"

"G-go to hell," Joey spat at him weakly in a brief moment of lucidity, the thugs bursting out laughing at the sound of his voice cracking. 'Uncle Jimmy' clicked his tongue disapprovingly, then gave a nod to his underlings, who then threw Joey violently against the wall and held him there.

"You don't seem to know how to listen do you kiddo?" the ringleader said, reaching into his pocket. An icy chill of realization and fear washed over him as he heard the distinctive spring-loaded click echo in the alleyway and the flashing steel of the stiletto dance in front of his eyes and move to press against the bottom of his ear. "Well if you can't use these properly properly what's the point of you having them?" Joey made a whimpering plea that lost all coherency when it escaped his lips, causing the thugs to burst out laughing again. "Now now, don't cry, be a man and try to figure out why this is-"

"Take your hands off of him."

Everyone in the darkened alleyway jumped, Uncle Jimmy's blade nicking Joey's earlobe as he turned his attention to the source of the almost ethereal sounding voice. In the entrance of the street stood a lone figure, silhouetted by the street lamps illuminating the road, hands clenched into fists at its sides. In the darkness none of the alley's inhabitants could make out the features of this strange newcomer besides its hoodie, but its appearance nevertheless made the thugs turn to look at one another nervously. Uncle Jimmy was not so easily shaken, however.

"Keep your nose out of our business you sneaky bitch, or you'll lose your ears too!" he snapped at the newcomer, wildly gesticulating in Joey's face with the knife. Despite the blade traveling dangerously close to his eyes, Joey's attention was focused solely on the darkened figure, who approached the group ominously despite the punk's threat of violence. The figure raised an open hand in his direction, and then...wait, was it his imagination, or was this figure floating a few inches off the ground?

"Yeaaaaaargh!"

The sudden scream shocked Joey out of his trance just as he felt the thug on his left release his grip. He turned to look at what was happening and caught a glimpse of the thug suddenly airborne like he was shot out of a cannon and flying in a graceful arc away from the group and over the head of the figure, who turned to watch him hit a pile of garbage on the other end of the road before snapping its head back to the now two criminals and their victim. Joey realized for a split second that the figure's 'eyes' seemed to be glowing violently before Uncle Jimmy pulled him into a headlock and pressed the blade to his throat, hard enough to draw a little blood.

"I'll kill him!" Uncle Jimmy shrieked, his voice filled with manic fury and horror. "You make one more move and I'll slice him open like a-"

Jimmy's outburst was interrupted when Joey suddenly felt himself being wrenched from his grasp by some unknown force, which left him hovering in the air as Uncle Jimmy watched him go, his gold-toothed mouth agape in shock. As Joey looked on, too awestruck to be afraid of whatever the hell was going on anymore, Uncle Jimmy himself was jerked violently off the ground, cussing up a storm. As the knife fell from his grip, Joey saw it freeze in midair, vibrating slightly before it cracked and shattered into small pieces and scattered itself along the ground. Then with a jerk of its head, the figure (assuming the figure was the one doing this, Joey decided) sent the hopeless gangster spiraling into wall with a resonating thud before he fell into a nearby dumpster and landed with a splash in a couple feet of garbage water. Joey felt himself gently lowered to the ground as the figure stepped past him towards the last thug, who cowered in fear despite the fact that he towered over it.

"Are you afraid?" the figure asked the thug with surprising gentleness, allowing Joey to identify the voice as distinctly youthful and feminine.

"Y-yeah," the thug stammered, his eyes darting between the figure's eyes and the nearest exit route. There was a pregnant pause as the two exchanged stares before the figure spoke again.

"You're afraid that she's hurt," she said gently. To his surprise the thug seemed to relax slightly after she said it.

"S-she lives in Sherman Square," he said meekly, staring down at his own shoes. "I haven't talked to her in years but after the rioting I was worried that she would have been..."

"Go find her," the figure suggested. "She probably misses you too."

"Yeah, I will," the thug replied, and Joey was surprised to see him turn and leave the alleyway, unharmed and calm as ever. As the figure approached him in turn, Joey found himself without a voice, but for much different reasons then when Uncle Jimmy had a blade against his neck.

"Are you hurt?" the strange girl asked him, genuine concern evident in her voice. For some reason, even though he couldn't make out her face besides the strange eyes, Joey felt calmed and soothed as he looked at her.

"A little bit, but I'll get it checked out just to be safe," he explained, pausing to wipe some dried blood from his chin as the figure nodded before a question came to his lips. "You're...you're one of them, aren't you? One of the superheroes."

"A what?" the figure asked.

"A superhero," Joey repeated, thinking that this girl might not have been all there. "You know...the guys with powers that go around helping people." There was another pregnant pause, one in which Joey felt an unnatural yet faint feeling of happiness for some strange reason.

"I...help people?"

"Well you helped me when you saved my life," Joey said with a weak laugh as he bent down to pick up his wallet and phone from the ground. "Saving lives, stopping the bad people in the world, that's what the supers do, you know?" He looked over the screen and was somewhat surprised to see that his new phone by some miracle had survived without a scratch. He looked up from his things and saw that the girl was nowhere to be seen, though he could have sworn there was a faint purple glow in the air where she had been standing...

---

"MINAAAAAAAA!"

Dr. Seidel, who had been waiting by the pulled over car with a couple of security men at her side, shrieked as she was pulled into a hug by the suddenly reappearing Riley. As one of them sent a message on their pagers to inform the group that Riley had been found, Mina pried herself out of Riley's grip, who let her go without too much of a fuss as she waited to tell her what had happened.

"What were you thinking?" Mina all but shouted at Riley, her tone a cross between fury and hyperventilation. "We were supposed to be hiding out Riley! You can't just relocate to random parts of the city, you could have been killed or captured and then they would-"

"Mina, I helped someone!" Dr. Seidel blinked at these words, her face quickly turning a sickly shade of white as she hoped she heard the half-alien girl wrong.

"You...helped someone!?!"

"I helped someone just like when I helped you, Miss Mina!" Riley said proudly, placing her hands on her hips in a triumphant pose. "I'm a SUPERHERO!"

Hoxton returned from his search and rounded the corner just in time to see Dr. Seidel passed out on the ground at the foot of a very confused and somewhat hurt Riley.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by fdeviant
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fdeviant Witch o' the Wood

Member Seen 3 yrs ago



____________________

New Orleans
1862
____________________


Hekate sauntered down the streets of New Orleans, a black and white parasol keeping the sun’s hot breath at bay. Spring had arrived hand-in-hand with the Union soldiers, who, a month earlier, occupied the once Confederate city and placed it under martial law. Of course, Hekate was not bothered by the north’s presence there; she held no love for southern morality, only their desperation. With war came social depravity and rebellion, both acting as a door to the Otherside in their own way, and this city was more attuned to her world than any other in North America.

She smiled and nodded at the soldiers dotting the streets who howled and whistled as she passed, fascinating all of them with an unassuming glance. A pox on your family, a plague on your fields, misfortune upon your unit, she incanted in her mind. If another could hear her thoughts, they might think her cruel, but Hekate knew these men’s hearts. When set loose they acted as dogs and barbarians, rummaging through the wreckage they had caused, firing upon civilians indiscriminately, treating the southern and freed women like ornaments. To Hekate, both the Union and Confederate soldiers were swine. She took not the sides of men, but the sides of the oppressed, those kept enslaved by both north and south. In her mind, she was the only true champion of liberation.

Hekate rounded corner after corner, her leisurely pace interrupted only by the occasional carriage. Eventually, she made her way into a small Spiritist shop which stood at the end of the street, hidden from view by vines growing off the balcony. A sign outside read, Madame Lestrange’s House of Wonders. Hekate smiled as she read the sign, pulled back to vines, and walked inside to be greeted by a portly, elderly woman with bright silver hair and cloudy eyes. The shop itself was filled with expensive decor in red and golden hues, and the shelves were lined with books on Spiritualism, divination, the works.

”Bonjour Madame,” Hekate greeted the Madame as she entered the shop. Madame Lestrange turned at the mystery woman’s voice, and upon seeing Hekate smiled and bounded over to her, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on either cheek, a gesture Hekate gladly returned.

“Bonjour ma chère!” Madame Lestrange greeted her with energy unbefitting of her years. Despite her size and age, she moved as quickly and nimbly as a child, and her eyes, though greyed, still maintained a youthful spark. “What brings you to my corner of New Orleans? I wasn’t expecting you until next Thursday.”

”Can I not pay a visit to a dear friend?” Hekate replied, Lestrange giving her a knowing stare.

“No no, I know you, Susanna. You don’t come down this far into the city unless you need something.”

Susanna Wilde was Hekate’s current disguise, a character of her own invention. She was the daughter of a wealthy plantation owner, a position not uncommon in the area, and his sole beneficiary. Her “father,” or a man whom she had convinced was her father, had died of a heart attack upon her arrival in New Orleans, making her, perhaps not entirely in line with tradition, the lady of his estate and business. Of course, Hekate freed all of his slaves once she took his land, but any mortal onlooker who passed by the estate would still see tired, dejected men and women working the fields.

Hekate, as Susanna, came across Madame Lestrange shortly after her arrival and joined her circle of Spiritualists, men and women who believed that, through mediumship, spirits could be petitioned for information. The movement was at its peak during Hekate’s stay in New Orleans, and she quickly turned the groups eyes from simple divination and communication to full blown witchcraft. Their coven met on Thursdays to conduct all manner of magic, and the Madame took requests from believers in the community . . . for a fee.

”How can one so shriveled and blind as you have such powers of perception?” Hekate joked with the old woman, who scoffed at her comment but smiled anyway. ”But you’re right, there is a reason behind my visit. I’m sure you’re aware of a certain Marie Laveau?”

Lestrange nodded. “Yes, she’s a fine woman, not so active these days, but that daughter of hers makes plenty of noise in the streets with her shouting and prophesizing. I had my hair done by Madame Laveau a few years ago when she worked in the French Quarter and it was a privilege to meet her.”

”I’ve heard the stories, she sounds quite powerful. Hekate genuinely liked Marie Laveau. She was a free born woman who used her powers for the benefit of her family and community, but she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. The “Voodoo Queen” of New Orleans was certainly no title to cough at and she garnered Hekate’s respect for her influence over the city’s Haitian and white citizens. Laveau had gained an entire city’s respect, some even worshipped her like a goddess. Hekate knew this veneration well, she longed for it, but more than that, she longed for the freedom of an entire city, state, or country devoted to the Otherworld. So, she devised a plan. ”Our little circle has grown in the past year, but it couldn’t hold a flame to the community that Laveau has built. Which is why I suggest that we expand, build a stronger community of witches, black and white. Oh, think of it Madame!”

Lestrange saw the glow in Hekate’s eyes and couldn’t help but be swept up in her ambitious imagining. It was quite the proposition, and the Madame was climbing up in her years. “Susanna, I need to thank you.”

Hekate was caught by surprise. ”Whatever for?”

“You gave me hope in my old age. Before you came it was just me and some high society folk looking for some excitement, but then you came and you brought something real, something potent. I’m getting old, and I wouldn’t dare ask you or anyone else to undo what time has done,” she began to sniffle, a few stray tears streaming down her face as she spoke, “but I’d give whatever time I’ve got left to see the kind of world you have in mind.”

Hekate smiled and hugged the old woman, who took a moment to cry tears of joy on her shoulder. ”It has been my pleasure, Madame.” Hekate consoled Lestrange, her words genuine. Not often had she been able to have this sort of relationship with mortals. The heroes of old certainly, but they didn’t appreciate her or her gifts. Her ancient followers perhaps, but few were as loyal as Medea and Circe. But here, now, she had a mortal friend who wanted nothing from her, but everything for her.

The Madame stepped back and looked Hekate in the eyes. “I’ll reach out the every Spiritualist in the state that I know, tell them to round up their circles and friends and head to New Orleans. I’m sure every one of them will want to hear what you have to offer.”
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Gowi
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Gowi

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GRANT CITY, SUNDAY, 5:30 PM

Merlin’s library is not a place in England, a tangible ruin, or something you can see from space. It’s a quiet, hidden place and what it is in reality astounds me. Merlin’s tower is a pocket dimension in a broom closet. Boy does that sound weird. I “work” at this old middle-of-the-road antiques shop but really it’s more like I’m paid to learn magic… and keep the place clean. Alright, yeah, I do work here but it’s not like I get paid for it. It’s like a lot of hard work and effort for a whole lot of nothing. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all about helping people and charity’s do a lot of good in this world… but it’s really hard getting a pizza when you have thirty-six cents in your pocket.

I was raised Christian, though I imagine if my parents knew what I was doing… they’d think I was questioning god’s power or meddling in the affairs of Satan—but magic isn’t theological—there’s a stream between dimensions and worlds and golly it’s the stuff of fantasy but it’s not—it’s real. It’s so very real and so very amazing and I’m standing on the shore right now looking out where our famous superhero fought some monster or another. I haven’t really understood who the hero was, I just know they’re fighting every day to keep us safe— they’ve said it a few times from the interviews I’ve actually caught.

‘It’s my responsibility to help others. I was born with this gift and I need to use it in this way, it’s a public service.’

Those words may be somewhat inspiring to me, but I feel like I’ve always wanted to do something great and even if I’ve had my head buried in the books and myths; I wanted to do something. It’s why I want to become a person who educates and forms young minds. With “the Mage” alias being tossed around I can do that in my day job and in my night job—well assuming I get through college with all of this magic stuff going on. It’s nifty, but exhausting and every time Merlin decides he’s going to lug a fireball at me I get nervous and anxious and it’s like high school all over again. Daisy Wilson didn’t want to date me and this fireball is going to kill me. Those are my thoughts when that happens—they’re the same thing to me.

“This is really cool. I’m meant to be a hero—a role model. I think.” I say aloud as I smile.

I shuffle my hands in my pockets as I turn around from the shoreline. To think all of this is connected through time and space and that’s where all of ambient magic comes from is pretty neat. It makes you think back to all of the tales of demons & giant monsters and then you see it in a whole new light. It has to be even more taxing for Merlin—he’s practically alone out here and he’s keeping the realm intact and fighting the dimensional problems that sneak through the cracks. Society as it is now couldn’t handle another invasion of demon orcs—though I imagine every dork living in their mother’s basement would be totally okay with that. But if it’s my job to follow Merlin’s lead, then that’s what I’m going to do.

Speaking of his lead I’m pretty much late for tonight’s study! Crap!

Running to my bike, and by bike I don’t mean motorcycle. I’m poor and gas is expensive. Double timing it over to the shop from where I’m at isn’t exactly going to be a skip-and-a-hop, but if I’m lucky I can get there in time… hopefully. But as I prepare to bolt off I hear something apparent as the sun begins to set and it’s like I change into someone else for a second. It's a scream... and a gunshot. With one hand gripping the handlebar and another pulling my hood over my face, I do something I’ve only done once or twice—I head toward the gunshot and scream. Now, a few weeks ago I would have probably crapped myself and ran away but not lately and not today.

Today, Marcus Huxley isn’t here… but a mysterious hooded wizard is.

It’s weird, even with all of the strides Grant City had made there was still a lot of untouched ground and the criminal element still found a way to stalk unsuspecting people who took the wrong turn at Albuquerque. Well, at least I’ve figured out where the scream and gunshot came from. How do I know? Well for one thing there’s a gun being pointed in my general direction as this young woman hides behind me as I hold up a barrier of arcane energy. I’m not exactly sure what this is all about, but this guy isn’t even running when his bullets don’t hit me as I stand in front of his intended target.

“Anybody ever tell you not to do that? It’s kind of rude.”

Sure, insulting the dude with a joke isn’t exactly a good idea but it honestly keeps me from losing my shit. Being able to do something like this doesn’t give me the courage, the wiseass remarks are what do it for me—go figure.

Moving my hands out as I narrow my eyes I prepare my next move—shifting the arcane energy into a blast of energy at the gunman… which sends him flying pretty damn far before colliding with an assortment of garbage cans. Ouch. I didn’t even mean to throw him that far! I hope he’s uh… not dead or something. Why would he be dead? I just tossed him back a few feet—yeah, no big deal.

“You know what they say; crime flies when you’re having fun.” Glancing back I look at the girl from underneath my hood, “I think you should go.”

She nods, though I have this feeling she was about to utter the cliché ‘who are you’ inquiry and I totally don’t have an answer for that. The best I have is “The Mage” and that name was given to me by some lady at the newspaper who I saved one time and totally wants to know my secret. Why can’t reporters leave heroes alone, anyway?

I shake my head at the thought. “I really should be getting along, anyway. Merlin’s going to be livid.”

With that muttered under my breath I run back to my bicycle and get back to what I’m supposed to be doing: learning how to use the arcane and why it’s important to keep the astral gates closed. I mean it’s not like I didn’t learn that in one day or anything—the gates are open and everybody’s nightmares from every dimension have a free “world tour” pass and nobody wants that. I don’t want that. I’m not a fan of the idea of demons or zombies or what-the-heck ever exists through the beyond. As for learning, I guess I’m getting much much better with it and I have pretty much the best teacher for it ever. I mean, he’s frickin’ Merlin.

…I just hope he isn’t throwing fireballs today.

I don’t like fireballs.



GRANT CITY, MONDAY, 12:10 PM

It’s been a some time since I was late for Merlin’s study, but it didn’t really go all that bad and he didn’t throw any fireballs at me.

I go to school at Grant College, though I've been sort of focusing on something not school-related. What I have in front of me is a compendium of magical history that was based on a translation (or so I’m told) of Greek texts put together by Circe. Yeah, Circe was real. I’m still digesting that bit of information but this was back during a time when the astral gates were open—so it’s not exactly out of this world. But I’m here in Bristol’s cafeteria next to my only other friend that isn’t my roommate. What I’ve known about Roxie since we met on a chance encounter was that apparently like me she was really into old mythlore and legends. So I thought we’d talk about a little book by the name of…

“De Praeceptis Artis Magicae.” Roxie’s voice ran over as I showed her the latin compendium that I’ve been reading. Roughly translated it means ‘rules of magic’ and while I probably shouldn’t be showing people anything related to magic—I feel a connection here and as my only female friend ever I sort of want to strengthen that bond.

“You know latin?”

I admit my understanding of the language isn’t the best comprehension ever, but it was something my grandfather forced me to learn at a young age. It’s something I’ve recently learned has come most in handy since a lot of old world text that I’ve been reading is latin or dead languages—though Merlin has been helping me with the dead languages part. In the last year alone I’ve been learning Pictish, Cambric, Cornish, and Gaulish in addition to an extensive refresher course on the Latin language. Some I guess would argue that these languages would be more daunting than the magical part of training, but I’m not so sure.

“Roughly, so it’ll take me some time to translate it to paper, but I thought you’d be interested in it since we sort of… have the same… interests?” My voice is a bit shaky, but the earnestness is there. Though if Merlin found out I was sort of translating something he gave me to study—and only me at that… I’m pretty sure I’d be in big trouble or in for a terrible scolding. I don’t want either of those things but I’m still for some reason doing it.

She smirked, “Yeah, because you totally are into punk rock and car engines.”

“Oh, come on! I meant about the myth stuff!”

“I’m just joking, calm your tits.”

I knew that. Really, I did.

“Oh.”

Okay, so it went over my head.

Okay, I admit that I’m sort of an idiot, but the only jokes I know are the ones I say to make sure I don’t crap myself when I’m “fighting crime”. Consider who I’m surrounded by—a eccentric but obsessive old wizard, my best friend David Richards who likes to use his interest in psychology to armchair my mentality, and most recently Roxie Llywelyn—a girl is as alien to me as anything else. If anything I’m at least amusing Roxie with my own dumbfounded idiocy… so there is that. Never knew the “idiotic dork” was something that worked. Not that it’s a façade, though it’d be something else if I was that devious.

I’m as subtle as a bull in a china shop, so straight-up lying (let alone putting on a façade) is a little out of my skill-set.

Roxie laughed as she shook her head, “Hux’, you’re some kind of a idiot aren’t you?”

“…I guess so.” I say with a nervous smirk, I guess I’m a little bit embarrassed by that.

“Anyway, I gotta run—work in twenty.”

Damn it, I forgot about that; I guess it gives me time to translate it a little bit and go over it with her next time we’re in-between classes.

“Got it.” I nod.

As Roxie leaves I began to wonder something to myself: where have the days gone?

It’s a question I’ve been asking myself as I look back on the last few weeks and wonder why it feels like I’ve been drifting for three months doing nothing. I’ve done a lot, I mean I’m no grandiose superhero that flutters over the news but I’m pretty sure I’ve been a positive influence on more than one person’s life in this city. I’ve dealt mostly with run-of-the-mill guys, though I’m pretty sure one of those guys was a hitman so maybe it’s a little grandiose after all?

Maybe.

But probably not.

Merlin’s been running me through circles in the afternoons I have, School is exhausting, and keeping the streets somewhat manageable at night is pretty much something that takes a degree of energy out of me. So maybe it’s not that I’m not special and nothing has happened to me since I started talking to Roxie, but rather that I’m doing too much in-and-out. How am I going to keep this up when I become a teacher in a few years?

“Sorry that I’m late principal somebody, I’ve been casting spells on petty thieves all night so I woke up pretty late!” doesn’t exactly sound like a promising way to start off a career to me. But I guess that’s all speculative hoo-haw that I need to deal with later instead of now when I don’t even have a degree yet.

Merlin says he’s working with something real special soon, that I’m ready for the next step in my training but I’m not so sure since he’s said this to me a few times before and the last time I got a bunch of books of dead or near-dead languages to comprehend. I wonder what language has to do with magic when through simple concentration and the right scientific process I can cause something to levitate without uttering a word. This isn’t anime where I have to yell out my technique for it to be powerful, or at least I don’t think so.

Guess I’ll find out soon.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Gowi
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YEAR ONE — HOMECOMING




GRANT CITY, SUNDAY, 11:00 PM

Whatever name you call Grant City, it is a symbol of moral deterioration and the darkness that comes from within. I’ve known it well— I’m a product of it. But I won’t let it go on; I can’t let it go on, not any longer.

The criminal element that controls Grant City is a union of crime families that have been in control since the earliest twentieth century. Though the union itself had not been declared until around 1972 when my grandfather, Kevan Lothry, collaborated with his rivals Mikhail Graoroski, Stephan Dubois, and Antonio Zerilli to create a landscape where they could split the city into four territories— to not waste time with pointless bloodshed with the FBI and GCPD on their heels. In a story about organized crime the writer would let you believe that the greed of the other families would eventually turn and the “good guys” would infiltrate their organization from the inside. However this wasn’t a gangster movie. This was real life. That was the reality I came from— I was born into the Lothry Crime Family.

Born into sin.

The thought of my life as a pawn underneath this union of crime families, this syndicate of crime… it angers me. In the past the evil pull of the devil would make me blind as I turned into a savage. I terrorized, intimidated, enforced, and hurt people… I killed without a second thought. I was a tool of evil and as that tool I thought I was living up to my father’s legacy and could become like him. But I didn't realize what being like him really was back then and I see now that all of it was a delusion; a delusion I did not see until it was too late. I wish that I could’ve seen god’s warnings— I wish I could’ve seen the devil’s shadow.

“Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the Lord God had made.”

My voice is almost a whisper. I had half-a-decade or more for introspection, reflection, and prayer. But now was not the time for those things— god had led me to the Georgian monastery that had prepared me for my journey and gave me the skills to bring retribution to the unholy and the wicked.

My family’s sins must be corrected.

I am crouched on the top of a crane, brows narrowed as I look down as Daniel McHugh’s men began to unload crates from the cargo ship that is docked— The Fair Lady.

My destination here is not random and I am not foolish. When I first arrived back in Grant City I decided exactly how I was going to about this most holy mission; because even saints are not immune to bullets. But I needed to make my enemies think I am. I returned to Grant City several weeks ago under the assumed name of Ioane Jandieri, a Georgian name I created to go under the radar as I do not need a celebrity’s homecoming— I needed people to believe I was a ghost.

The supplies, cash, and motif I needed were not in front of me; I did not have a state-of-the-art base of operations and I did not have endless supply of money to create one. While the money I gained from the drug-dealing street gangs was one made from the devil’s whims it was not unable to be cleaned in the eyes of god. I took the money to a church, prayed for his blessing, and got to work— and now I stand in black-tattered cloth that I engineered myself. Not bad for someone who was perceived as an idiotic thug. The motif is that of a shadow, a reaper— an angel of judgement.

This place… this port. It is important to the syndicate. It will be judged.

I have come to this port in all of its familiarity to face the sinful drones of Daniel McHugh who are ready to start sorting their operation. An operation that has gone on for many generations. In short, the McHugh’s have been involved with the importing and exporting of drugs for over thirty years— everything from crack to marijuana have been goods that they have gotten their sinful hands on and have peddled it to whoever they could get entranced on it. They were the middleman from the syndicate to the dealers and were vital. It is here in the shadows of the night that I remember Daniel McHugh and his boys; it is here that they remember that god is watching.

That god is angry.

I reach for a smoke grenade on the side of my utility belt. In an instant smoke engulfs the men below. They scream in surprise.

They scream again.

I can hear the sounds of ricocheting bullets as I begin an onslaught of unrelenting grapples. I can hear the sound of this man’s bones breaking before I throw him to the concrete below. Their vision is blinded, but they cannot see their enemy— they cannot see because they have been led astray and blinded to the devil’s hand on their shoulder. It is saddening to know that in another life these men could’ve been good given the right opportunity. They could’ve opened their eyes like I have. But now… it is too late. I drop another grenade as I move to the next one before the smoke has even begun to clear.

“WHERE IS HE?! HELP!”

“Every living substance that I have made will I destroy.” I growl underneath my mask.

Another scream as I break his arm.

For the wrongdoer will be paid back for the wrong he has done, and there is no partiality.

There is only pain.

There is only judgement.

There is only god.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Dedonus
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Dedonus Kai su teknon;

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Christopher Arthur III | Kelly Brown | Samantha "Sammy" Kadowsky | Zac Wilson

There was a long silence in the room after the Warden admitted to the crimes that War-Pulse had committed. The part about War-Pulse attempting to ‘poison’ the Lost Haven water supply and being stopped by the villains was not surprising, especially since that event was what prompted Iron Knight to look for War-Pulse, let alone the fact that the Warden already admitted to it earlier in the debriefing. Even the part where War-Pulse had been at least semi-successful at other locations was not that surprising. While Chris did not know that War-Pulse was the one who did those acts of sabotage, he had read the S.T.R.I.K.E. reports about the substance being quarantined so that it would not affect the general public. However, attacking a S.T.R.I.K.E. base and freeing a dangerous fugitive was the shock. War-Pulse had to been crazy to think that he would be able to escape from S.T.R.I.K.E. Sure, he could run, but he could not hide from this far-reaching organization.

“I think whatever action that needs to be taken on account of War-Pulse’s actions should be a topic of another day.” Chris astonished the room of heroes, especially since he was the one who had the closest ties to S.T.R.I.K.E. While he knew that there probably were a few people who wanted to hand War-Pulse over to the international spy organization, Chris had his reasons for not taking that course of action because he saw the bigger picture. “This is what those terrorists would want us to do: fight amongst ourselves while their plan slowly comes to fruition. I am sure we all have done something that we’re not entirely proud of before, but we need to stand together now, or else we will fail.”

Chris gave everyone a few moments for everyone to digest what he had said. After several seconds, he then spoke again. “So, any questions before we move onto our plan of attack? And don't worry, War-Pulse, I have my best men and women trying to crack the mystery on how we can stop these domes.”

After this, Kelly then raised her hand, as if she was trying to answer a question at school. Chris took a quick glance at his "list of aliases" so that he would not accidentally use the incorrect name. When he checked the list, he confirmed his guess that her name was Kelly since there were only three metahumans present from Albany and the only other girl's name had a "cat-girl" descriptor next to it for convenience's sake. "Um, Kelly." Chris paused for a second, just to make sure he didn't have a typo on his list, "This isn't middle school. We don't have to raise our hands to get permission to speak.

Kelly then slowly lowered her arm. "Well, I think we can add some information to what War-Pulse said." She turned to both Zac and Sammy, who in turn gave her a nod showing their agreement. "But do you have anything that we can use to write all this information down on? It might be easier for everyone to digest this information in a visual representation.

"Hmm...actually, I might have something that will do the trick." Chris rubbed his chin as he thought about Kelly's question. Then he glanced around the room until he found the device he was looking for. After he had pulled the large device in front of where everyone else was standing, Chris pressed a button on it, which caused the flat and clear rectangular surface of the device to light up. “An electronic whiteboard. Use this stylus to write and you can scroll up and down the screen as if it were a tablet.”

Even before Chris was able to finish explaining how to use the electronic whiteboard, Kelly had already snatched the stylus out from Chris’ hand and had begun to scribble on the board. It took a couple minutes for the young metahuman to finish creating a list of information that was compiled from what she knew and what War-Pulse had just said. When she stepped away from the board, the other heroes saw that the board was organized so that he villain had a row dedicated to him or her. And beside the handwritten words, which were almost stereotypically neat for a girl, Kelly had sketched small images that represented each villain.

“Alight, so before we get started,” Kelly gestured at her boyfriend and Sammy, “I just wanted to say, hi, my name is Kelly, as you have just heard. But since its seems like Chris here is the only one who doesn’t mind using his own real name, you can call me Wasp.” Kelly then deactivated her power-nullifying wristband, which caused her wasp-like characteristics to reemerge. In addition, her clothes changed into her superhero outfit and the process looked almost as if her civilian clothes were actually morphing into this other costume.

“My boyfriend and I…” Kelly said as she gestured towards Zac.

“Raptor, by the way” Zac revealed his superhero alias so that Kelly would not have to repeat his actual name. At the same time, Zac also deactivated his power-nullifier, which caused him to return to his metahuman appearance, along with his costume replacing the civilian clothes that he was wearing in the same way that Kelly’s had.

“We acquired our powers after we unwilling were given this special serum that was created by the man whom War-Pulse called ‘Mr. Long Neck’, which happens to be not far off. His real name is Doctor Dorian Dipillian, although now he goes by the name Doctor Diplodoc.”

“He has tried multiple times to recruit us to his cause, although obviously, since we’re here right now, he did so in vain.” Zac cut in while Kelly was speaking to explain how they know this information. “He even went as far as kidnapping us and trying to mind control her into working for her.”

“Anyways,” Kelly tried to change the subject, especially since it brought bad memories of her being almost forced to kill her boyfriend. “I don’t think we need to dwell on Jaws or Black Widow for too long, since you already mentioned the ‘shark man’ and ‘spider woman’. Effigy must have been a new addition because he wasn’t there when they kidnapped me. However, the ‘silver-garbed women’ is bad news.”

“We three barely took her down.” Zac pointed towards Kelly and Sammy. “It is even more disconcerting that she has joined forces with Doctor Diplodoc because it means that her incarceration did not quite stick when we turned her over to the proper authorities.”

“And she petrified these two, so her ‘magic’ is no joke.” Sammy butted in. However, her two friends returned her comment with a faces that could have said, ‘why did you bring that up’. “Hey, I was only trying to dispel, no pun intended, anyone’s disbelief in her magic. Oh, by the way, since we’re giving ourselves cute little names, you all can call me Bast, like the Egyptian cat goddess.”

“I can only remember one other metahuman from my stay with them a month or so ago. There is a man, called Leo, who is basically a lion version of Jaws. Yes, I know, their names are so original, but at least it makes it easy to keep track of them.”

“Otherwise, the intel that War-Pulse and Warden told us is pretty spot on. However, I’m not quite convinced that Doctor Diplodoc is using the chemical that War-Pulse was hired to pollute the Lost Haven water supply with. I don’t know a lot about advanced sciences, since I’m only a ‘dumb jock’, but I do know that this Doctor Diplodoc has had the capacity to create metahumans for months now. Kel…um..Wasp and I are living proof of this. Aubrey over there is living proof of it. I don't think he needed to piggyback on anyone else's formulas.

“If I remember the announcement correctly,” Kelly added to Zac’s argument, “Doctor Diplodoc was comparing his own serum with whatever War-Pulse was dumping into the water sources for Lost Haven, especially how his serum did not mutant people into mindless monsters. While it would be a sound idea to check it out just in case, I don’t see how he could have used that poison.”
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by fdeviant
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fdeviant Witch o' the Wood

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____________________

New Orleans
1862
____________________


A cool breeze passed through the narrow gaps between those gathered in Jackson Square. Men and women of all races and social standings stood at the foot of the famous statue, gazing up in astonishment at Hekate, who hovered briefly above the mounted figure, then descended into the crowd of Spiritualists and believers, who erupted into a fit of applause. They had come from all over Louisiana, some from across the country, to witness the powers of the witch Susanna Wilde. Hekate allowed them to admire her for a few moments longer, then silenced them all with a raised hand.

”My friends, too long have we been kept hidden by the tides of time, too long have we been hushed by our peers and superiors, who believe us evil or touched, too long have we been subject to oppression by the religious majority. The time for true rebellion has come!” Hekate spoke with genuine enthusiasm, and the crowd responded. Again they cheered and yelled in her favor.

“Well well,” a haggardly old man stepped forward with wild silver hair, dressed in a fine white suit. A young woman helped to steady him as he walked to the front of the crowd. “I must give you credit missy, you sure know how to get a mob riled up, but over what?” He walked closer to Hekate, waving a short cane around while speaking. “I don’t care what kinda tricks you got to offer me, I’ll not have anything to do with the likes of them.” He pointed his cane to a collection of black men and women in the crowd, then spat in their direction. Immediately, the crowd began to retaliate, but Hekate stopped them.

”Calm yourselves. Let us not take the example set by our country and resort to violence. We are intellectuals, beings of reason, and we can settle this not with fists and guns, but with words.” Hekate turned her attention to the old man who stood before her, offering him an overly polite smile. ”Sir, you have the floor.”

“Thank you kindly,” he responded with a nod, turning back to the crowd. “Now you see, there ain’t no place for colored folk in this here new world, no place except at the end of a leash!” He cackled, then went into a small fit of coughing before continuing. “They ain’t civilized, just look at ‘em. More like beasts than men, don’tcha think?” He directed his question to Hekate, who maintained an eerie smile. The crowd sat in silence, all turning to hear Hekate’s response.

”I am inclined to agree with you that there are some among us who do not belong here, some who are, in fact, more like beasts.” The crowd gasped. A few began to leave the square, others began dismissing Hekate. The old man smiled, but Hekate was not finished. She spoke loud enough to hush the mob, ”However, the color of their skin has nothing to do with it.” The crowd grew quiet once more and those leaving quickly filed back into place. The old man’s smiled turned quickly into a scowl. ”You are so quick to follow in the footsteps of your predecessors, so quick to judge others based on assumptions made by those before you.” Hekate pointed to the same collection of people as the old man had earlier. ”These are a powerful people! A worthy group with rich history and culture. They may have wild spirits, but they are far from beastlike. You, on the other hand, are a plague-stricken vermin . . . and that is how you will spend the rest of your miserable life.”

Before the man could protest, he was seized by a fit of coughing, then collapsed. His limbs began to shake violently, bones and joints creaking, twisting, contorting. He teeth yellowed, then grew longer, squared, and jagged. He screamed as his body became deformed and misshapen. The crowd stepped back and watched in horror, but Hekate smiled in delight. Soon, there was nothing left of the man but his suit and cane, but from beneath the fabric came a small, white rat who scurried off into the streets of New Orleans.

The square was silent. Everyone in attendance stood in shock and awe of what had just transpired. No one dared move from place, no one dared speak. Hekate looked at all of them, still smiling. ”Now then . . . shall we continue?” After another long stretch of silence, the crowd once again erupted into applause, cheering for Hekate and moving in closer to her, all of them wanting what she had to offer, all of them completely under her spell. The night went on, her speeches continued to sway the crowd, and when midnight struck, the square was filled with men and women dancing and singing in ecstatic pleasure. Hekate, in the midst of war, had brought together a community of witches with a show of force, and unlike Salem, these witches thrived years after she had moved on. The New Orleans witches built a strong bond with the Vodou practitioners, and the city remains a stronghold and seat of power for the magical community.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by FacePunch
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FacePunch Death Comes

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Laura Smith, better known as the super fast hero Boom, was an impatient woman. Even before she got her powers, she had a habit of tapping her foot. The habit used to be benign and easily ignored; now that she could move her foot at hundreds of thousands of miles per hour, her drumming sounded more akin to a hurricane. "L- Boom. You're doing it again." Thunderbolt nudged his younger sister with his elbow, giving her a look of exasperation. "Sorry." She apologized. Not two moments later, however, her foot was at it again. "Could you not?!" He growled. "I'm just...look. I can't just stand around here waiting when I know that people are dying. I'd feel much better if we were, at the very least, doing something to help. God, I feel useless." Laura held her arms close to her chest. Thunderbolt recognized the subtle look of anguish and guilt on his sibling's face; he knew her well. Better than she knew herself, sometimes. Harvey placed a comforting arm around the girl and offered her a consolatory smile. "Everything's going to be fine. Icon'll be here any moment-"

As if on cue, the Blue Boy Scout appeared, with a woman Harvey couldn't identify at his side. Laura stood on the tips of her toes and pulled Harvey closer to her. "That's Lady Liberty! I used to watch her cartoon when I was a kid." Laura explained. Her excitement was infectious. "Oh yeah, I remember; you used to talk about that stupid show all the time." Boom scrunched her nose up, taking mild offense to the claim that her favorite show as a child was stupid. "Whatever. I least I didn't play with dolls-" Harvey's defense was immediate and passionate. "-Action figures!" He protested. "You can call a jar of piss granny's peach tea all you like. It's still a jar of piss." Laura spat back. The two noticed that they had attracted unwanted attention with their childish arguing and quickly put a stop to it.

Boom gave Icon an awkward wave and a slight smile as he approached the rest of the group. "Stoic boy scout or badass with an attitude? Decisions, decisions." Thunderbolt muttered. Unfortunately for his rib cage, Laura heard the taunt loud and clear. "Ow!" Laura seemed a little more than peeved that her "skip the introductions" had been entirely ignored as everyone made their way around the room and mingled for what felt like an eternity. She couldn't help but sigh with relief as War-Pulse stepped up to the front of the room and introduced himself. The odd voice coming from his pocket was a bit disconcerting, but Laura got over it once she realized that this 'Warden' fellow was the real brains of the operation.

The mercenary's knowledge was useful. Pulse's informant gave a basic rundown of the goons they were likely to encounter. The speedsters watched the holographic camera footage with interest; Harvey and Laura studied the movements of their future enemies with trained efficiency. Thunderbolt seemed particularly observant when the first assailant, the Spider-Girl hybrid, appeared. The toxins might be a problem. Laura vividly recalled her fight with the man known only as the Gray Owl, and how a mere human had managed to take Boom down with his poisons. The Shark Man wouldn't be much trouble. A single Umbraxis-killing punch to his nose would likely drop him judging by the footage playing in front of them. Effigy was the wild card among the gang. If it could take on multiple powers at once, the team was done for. But if someone without powers, such as Vigilante, engaged it, the fight would be over in short order. "White Witch should be able to handle the Silver Sorceress." Thunderbolt interjected. He was obviously confident in the relative stranger's abilities.

The rest of Warden's information caused the room to go silent and stark white. Boom had heard him loud and clear the first time; but she chose to swallow her impulsive response. There had to have been more context to that, right? The man she'd met earlier didn't seem like the type to attempt genocide. But it turned out that Laura was wrong. There wasn't missing vital information. War Pulse had tried to poison Lost Haven. This city. Her city. When Iron Knight finally spoke, his words almost stung more than Warden's confession.

"WHAT?!" Boom practically screamed. "You want to talk about terrorists? There's one right in front of you. I knew you were a shitty hero but you can't possibly be this comfortable working with a man who tried to kill us all."

"Boom! Don't-" Harvey attempted to ebb Laura's rage. He soon found her talking over him, her anger all the more apparent. "How about you use your damn brain for a second, T. He poisoned the city's water supply. If that had worked, he'd have killed everyone we ever cared about. Brook, Eric, Mom and Dad? They'd all be dead. Six feet under along with millions of other people; men, women and children, all dead all so he could make a couple of bucks. Doesn't that sound wrong to you? Doesn't that go against your precious moral code, at least a little bit?" Laura turned on her heels and shoved an incriminating finger into Trent's face. "You are just as bad as the people we're going after. You tried to inact genocide on a bunch of civilians. And you have the nerve to come back to my city after what you tried to do? Fuck you."

Boom disappeared in a flash of blue light. "You've got to be kidding me." Thunderbolt moaned. He turned to the rest of the team and placed his hand on the back of his head. "She'll be back. I think."




Laura glided to halt at the end of the bridge, next to a sign informing drivers that they were now leaving Lost Haven. She pulled a nondescript black device from one of her costume's few pockets and put it up to her ear. "This is Boom." She said with the slightest quiver in her voice. She was greeted by the familiar accented voice of her most recent contact.

Right. Where to bloody start. So you wouldn’t happen to know a Pub on the Docks of Little Sicily by the name of Finnegans? There, was a little incident --” As Eva talked Dickens tugged on the back of her hoodie trying to get her attention. “Stop that. I, sorry that’s part of my pro.. DON’T YOU DARE!” Dickens had been shoving a corpse over to Eva in it’s attempt to share it’s bounty with her. With an audible sigh Eva continued. ”Okay before I get interrupted again Finnegans was, destroyed. You remember that, thing the monster from earlier. I guess it has, imprinted on me or something. I don’t fucking know anymore. There’s just too much crazy going on in my life. I came here to kinda establish myself, as a hero you know. ‘Stop the Pax Metahumana’ Arthur said. Be a hero he said. Find out why my friends were killed he said. I’m a girl with a magical sword, okay. I don’t know what I’m doing let alone how to find this Pax guy.”

Boom blinked twice, surprise plastered on her face. Okay. Not what I was expecting. She grumbled internally. Laura had been hoping that someone needed their ass kicked; but alas, the English foreigner had other, more bizarre problems. "Uhhmm." She stammered. "Yeah, I've heard of the place. Dad always told me to steer clear of that place. It was trouble. Probably a good thing its gone, honestly. Uhhh, I don't know how to help you with your...monster problem...But hey, don't get your knickers in a twist (or whatever the hell they say across the pond); I've got some 'friends' trying to track down Pax Metahumana. In fact, they're planning their assault right now. I could take you there- But.." Laura paused, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip.

"They're teaming up with a mercenary who tried to poison all of Lost Haven. The fucking fuckwad tried to fucking kill us all. Motherfucker." Boom paused once more. "Sorry. Not a good day. I'll pick you up and take you there if that's what you want."

"Uh, sure."

Before Eva knew it, she had been whisked away in a cloud of dust by a bright light. Moments later, before the poor girl could even process what was happening, she was standing in front of Arthur's Tower in the center of Sherman Square. "You alright?" Laura asked, feeling guilty that she hadn't given Eva any warning before grabbing her at mach 250. If it weren't for the ever enigmatic lightning effect, Eva would've been paste. Luckily all she'd likely be suffering from was minor nausea. "Go on ahead. the Elevator's pretty clearly marked. I'm uh, gonna stay out here. Clear my head a bit, ya know?" With that, the speedster zoomed off to the roof to sulk.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by VATROU
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VATROU The Barron

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Of all the moments in her life Eva had never felt so utterly bewildered then as of this moment. Besides the fact that a massively large tentacle predator stood over a collapsed building liking it’s eyeballs with some sort of tongue, she was mostly sure those were it’s eyeballs anyways; now her past has crept up on her and is now flirting with her. Her mouth froze in a daze as Steph snapped her fingers under Eva’s nose. “Heya! You alright there, kinda seem out of it.”

Eva shook as her mind returned to reality. “Alright. Do you think I’m bloody alright!? I got this thing whose..” She paused as the beast began rifling through the rubble to munch on a body. “DON’T EAT THAT! Damn cheeky bugger. Right then you start trying to shag me, what the hell am I supposed to think!?”

The beast took a but a second to look Evas’ way to ignore her and continue on picking away at the poor sods body. “Well he’s a impressive bloke, what ya going to call him?”

“I ain’t calling him anything, I am gonna find a way to return it to wherever it came from and get on with my life, and don’t dodge the question.”

Stephanie held up her fingers to frame the beast between them.”Dickens. Yeah. That’s Aces.”

Wah?”

Steph stopped to respond to Eva,”It’s his name, he looks like a Dickens.”

No! It’s not getting a name. Not having it. And you’re stalling what the hell are you even doing here, you’re rich?”

“See. A lot has happened since you left Le Rosey. I hated that place a much as you did, firstly I got me this awesome power, the Family wouldn’t have it course so they wanted to call for those experimental procedures where they remove your powers. Bull crap that was, so after some minor damage and slight injuries to my Father, which was only slightly intentional. Here I am, penniless with the power to bust open a bank vault. Besides do you think I’d socialize with anyone of lesser birth if it wasn’t for work. Pff. I’m a Merc now, sure it doesn’t pay for all the luxuries I used to have but it’s bloody good fun. So on that note it’s really good to see you we lesser nobility need to stick together. Especially in these hard times.”

So.” Eva said puzzled by her current predicament.”You’re cut off. Okay. Not helpful in the slightest. What the hell are we going to do about it?”

“Dickens.”

Still not helpful!” Eva exclaimed. “Right, well I. Have to make a call.”

“Who you gonna call. Hehe. Ghostbusters reference.”

Eva exhaled with exasperation as he fingers tapped out a number printed on a card, the same one she had been given by Boom earlier. "This is Boom." She said with the slightest quiver in her voice. She was greeted by the familiar accented voice of her most recent contact. Eva.

“Right. Where to bloody start. So you wouldn’t happen to know a Pub on the Docks of Little Sicily by the name of Finnegans? There, was a little incident --” As Eva talked Dickens tugged on the back of her hoodie trying to get her attention. “Stop that. I, sorry that’s part of my pro.. DON’T YOU DARE!” Dickens had been shoving a corpse over to Eva in it’s attempt to share it’s bounty with her. With an audible sigh Eva continued. ”Okay before I get interrupted again Finnegans was, destroyed. You remember that, thing the monster from earlier. I guess it has, imprinted on me or something. I don’t fucking know anymore. There’s just too much crazy going on in my life. I came here to kinda establish myself, as a hero you know. ‘Stop the Pax Metahumana’ Arthur said. Be a hero he said. Find out why my friends were killed he said. I’m a girl with a magical sword, okay. I don’t know what I’m doing let alone how to find this Pax guy.”

Boom blinked twice, surprise plastered on her face. Okay. Not what I was expecting. She grumbled internally. Laura had been hoping that someone needed their ass kicked; but alas, the English foreigner had other, more bizarre problems. "Uhhmm." She stammered. "Yeah, I've heard of the place. Dad always told me to steer clear of that place. It was trouble. Probably a good thing its gone, honestly. Uhhh, I don't know how to help you with your...monster problem...But hey, don't get your knickers in a twist (or whatever the hell they say across the pond); I've got some 'friends' trying to track down Pax Metahumana. In fact, they're planning their assault right now. I could take you there- But.." Laura paused, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip.

"They're teaming up with a mercenary who tried to poison all of Lost Haven. The fucking fuckwad tried to fucking kill us all. Motherfucker." Boom paused once more. "Sorry. Not a good day. I'll pick you up and take you there if that's what you want."

"Uh, sure."

Before Eva knew it, she had been whisked away in a cloud of dust by a bright light. Moments later, before the poor girl could even process what was happening, she was standing in front of Arthur's Tower in the center of Sherman Square. "You alright?" Laura asked, feeling guilty that she hadn't given Eva any warning before grabbing her at mach 250. If it weren't for the ever enigmatic lightning effect, Eva would've been paste. Luckily all she'd likely be suffering from was minor nausea. "Go on ahead. the Elevator's pretty clearly marked. I'm uh, gonna stay out here. Clear my head a bit, ya know?" With that, the speedster zoomed off to the roof to sulk.

Eva stumbled forward gasping for air, the trip Boom had given her and after she said a few words disappeared in a flash leaving Eva nauseated. Dickens surprisingly was in her Hoodie pocket poking his head out, somewhat disorientated his normal roars reduced to mere cries in his current size that of a Parakeet which was almost cute in a way. Her balance swayed as she walked towards the building, one of the few intact in the middle of wherever she was. A war zone clearly. A well dressed Butler greeted her having seen Boom whizz of to who knows where; Eva pressed the call button and the doors dinged open and proceeded to scan with a series of beams that confounded Eva unsure of what they were doing as the doors closed shut and the elevator rose to the top floor within moments.

The room was filled with Supers, or at least Eva guess they were by Icon’s presence she had never seen any of them before; perhaps in newspapers but none of the faces stuck to memory. Her hoodie obscured her face best that it could but anyone observant enough could probably see parts of her face if not in it’s entirety. “I. Came with Boom.. The Slag in blue lighting stripes can vouch for me.” Eva said with a nervous smile.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Athinar
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Athinar Big Stupid. Veteran from Oldguild.

Member Seen 12 mos ago



Before long, another knock came at the door, the repeated three knocks getting louder as Josie came to answer the door. They were still patient, but a little more firm as time went on before the young metahuman gangster got to her door. Looking through her peephole, she could see that there was a man on the other side, attired in a black three-piece suit and fedora, highlighted by the bright teal tie and neatly folded handkerchief in his chest pocket. His face was hidden by a featureless mask, firmly secured with a pair of teal-tinged round glasses across his face. While the attire seemed well-tailored, there seemed to be a hint of wear and tear to the attire, a bit of tattering at the suit’s edges. Oddly enough there was no sign of dirt or grime on the suit, it was well washed and spotless, yet why would a man wear a tattered suit? There was only one in town who bore a similarity to that description, one that any underworlder would know by sight alone.

This was none other than the right hand of the Cowl, his firm lieutenant known only by the name of Specter.

“Excuse me...Miss Josie?” The voice came from outside. It was light in tone, his polite manner complementing his attire in an unsettling way, as if his suit had never been damaged like it was. “Might I have a word? My employer would like to discuss a business expenditure with you and your organization. I do so hate to come straight to your place of residence, but it was difficult to find any other abode you frequented. If you let me in, I can discuss the matter further.”

He clasped his hands behind his back, standing unflinching in front of the door as he waited. He did not pace, nor did he shift his footing impatiently, his body firmly fixated on the portal as he waited for Josie’s response.

Josie, sitting on the couch, gave a start when the knock came. However, she reacted quickly, and stood up, walking over to the door. Without even so much as a glance at the peephole, she threw the door open, ready for anything, an attack by a gang, a police raid, a- A politely spoken man with a great fashion sense?

Nodding, Josie stepped aside. "Of course. But might you tell me who you work for? It might aid in the negotiations if I know exactly who wants something from my gang."

Dammit, why does every single big player in Lost Haven know where I live? I don't even know who this guy works for, and he's with some large outfit, I can tell. Might want to get a better apartment.

As the man entered, she looked him over. "Nice fashion sense, there. I prefer a white number, myself. Maybe trade suit cleaning tips later?" Josie winked, showing that this was a joke. Yeah, she wasn't much for subtlety.

The suited fellow gave a single, brief snicker at her joke before striding into her apartment, his glasses glinting off of the ceiling light as his head slowly turned to scout the room, his upright posture unflinching as he waited for her to shut the door.

"Perhaps if you accept my employer's offer, we'll talk about it." Specter said as soon as the door was shut, turning to face the young Josie with his full body, his movement slow and methodical, a practiced zen-like state as he continued the conversation. "I am honestly surprised you do not know the Cowl's second-in-command when you see it, but then again I am merely his shadow, I suppose without proper introductions I am easy to overlook, though I've been running things in his absence until his recent return."

He offered her an open hand to shake, his opaque lenses bearing down on Josie. "My name is Ramon, though most in this city know me as El Espectro...or 'The Specter' in English. I represent the Cowl's interests, mainly the Shroud Syndicate here in Lost Haven. We've been keeping an eye on you since your merry band came ashore in the docks of our little city, and might I say we've been quite impressed. You made quite a few waves with the elimination of the Brown Rat Gang, and we're looking for people with that kind of gumption to work for us."

Josie listened to his offer, and shook his hand, a thoughtful look on her face at the mention of the Shroud Syndicate. She was no good at keeping any sorts of secrets, unless it was from an interrogator, so Josie might as well tell him. She'd tell the Cancer that she was approached by the Specter as well, to make things... fair.

"Well, El Espectro, I feel like there's something that you might want to know before we continue with negotiations." Josie took a pack of cigarettes off of the coffee table, as well as a flip lighter, and lit herself a cigarette, offering one to Specter before she realized that he had a mask on. Setting them both down, she lounged lazily on the couch, frown on her face.

Jaaaaaaaaaaaaack, why did you trust me with this?

"It might be a major roadblock to our partnership, but I have been approached by an individual named "The Cancer," who wishes dearly for your organization's demise. The Enigma gang could use a power vacuum to climb to the top."

Taking a puff on her cigarette, she exhaled, smoke forming an ashen haze between the two criminals. "Other than your organization's legendary status, what could you offer us that the Cancer cannot?" Josie played a dangerous game, but at least she came right out and said it.

The man known as Specter bore no signs of panic or fear when Rosie confessed that The Cancer had already reached out to offer them. Admittedly his facemask and glasses were hiding any facial features he may have had regarding the news, but his body language made no hints of alarm. He did not tense up, nor did he slump in defeat at the idea that Rosie may consider working for the gang leader. Instead, he calmly walked to the small couch that Rosie possessed in her small apartment, taking a slow seat as he proposed his counter.

"In all honesty, we probably cannot offer much different than the Cancer can offer on the surface. Power, money, and influence among the city is a standard offer for any would-be capo in this town." The Specter began, the glint in his glasses flashing as his head turned to meet with Rosie's gaze. "However, the difference between the Shroud Syndicate and The Cancer's organization is a matter of mindset. Think about the name for a second, 'The Cancer' and tell me what kind of image that provides. That is disease, that is sickness, that is a pathological need to destroy, burn, and degrade all around him until there is nothing but a stinking pile of rot at his feet. The Cancer does want to destroy us, yes, but not because he wants our position. He wants to leave the city in flames, not in prospects, which makes for a poor leader and a poorer businessman. The Cancer will be just as likely to kill you as partner with you if it helps bring down the order this City has lived in for so long."

His attention to Rosie never wavered as he leaned back in the couch, though it embarrassingly sank more than the capo had expected as a bit of dust to expel into the air as he shifted to a more comfortable position. "What we offer more so than our competitor is stability. As a global goods trade organization there is nowhere in the world you couldn't go where you would not find a safe-house to hide in, a contact to reach out to, supplies, resources, and paid men will always be accessible to you so long as you contribute your fair share." The Specter gestured with a free hand, sweeping out across the room to illustrate his point. "We are not a group who thrives on the surface of things, our name may be well-known and our reputation may supersede us but nobody truly knows how far our influence spreads, piling among our assets. We did not get to where we are because we butt heads with every opponent, that we lash out and unleash war on every upstart that fights us. No, we got to where we are because we always kept our priorities at the top; profit. Nothing in this city is done without careful consideration for what will get us in the best position, no act is committed without reason, no job proposed without benefit to us. At the end of the day, partnering with us means you will be partnering with someone who will always keep you paid."

The Specter paused after his speech, adjusting his glasses slightly as he brought his arm over the back of the couch. "Plus, while our disappearance would create a power vacuum, is that really a vacuum anyone else really wants to claim? The amount of micromanagment that comes with owning a city is staggering, is that something a group like yours would even want to take? Or has the resources to do so?"

Josie sighed. "If we're going to be completely honest with each other," Josie smirked, for obvious reasons, "I must tell you that I quite like murdering and anarchy. However, if I'm going to make a decision, it'll be one Bleeder Jack would approve of. So, consider your deal accepted."

This was dangerous. She had already sort of told the Cancer that the deal was accepted on their end, and now, she was cutting a deal with the Shroud? Risky. She would have to choose a side sooner or later, but hopefully Jack or Byron could help her decide.

Draping her arm around the Specter's shoulder, she held out her left hand in front of the two of them, like unveiling some new landscape, headline, or portrait.

"Imagine, Specter, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." Smirking, she stood up, and turned around, holding her hand out to be shook. "I look forward to seeing you again, Specter."

The Specter was subtle in his response to her choice, his facemask hiding any emotions he had regarding the matter as he stood up to shake Josie’s hand. There was an air of expectancy around the man, like he knew this was going to happen, his movements going through the motions as he had done dozens of times before.

"Excellent, while my interests on anarchy and murder are not exactly aligned with yours, I see the merit to it and therefore am please with your decision. I will let my employer know that you and the Enigma Gang are on board. There are a few operations in the works that we could use talents like yours in the near future." The man said, his handshake firm and abrupt as his opposite hand reached into his coat, pulling a phone out of his pocket. “You’ll want to take this, there are no numbers on this phone, but we will be able to reach you directly. The device has been rewired to disengage its gps tracking, so by all standards this device is off the grid.”

Specter did not keep the handshake long after Josie took the phone, his attention quickly going to the door. “I must head out for now, let your boss know that we will be trying to get in touch with him as well, as we’d like to know a little more about you and your gang before we continue.” He made his way towards the portal, resting his hand on the doorknob before turning glancing back at Josie through his peripheral vision, the glint in his glasses briefly illuminating as he turned his head.

“We will speak again Josie, but for now...welcome to the Shroud.”
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Byrd Man
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Byrd Man El Hombre Pájaro

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Washington D.C.
April 2nd, 1917
1200 Local Time


"Mr. Speaker! The President of the United States!"

Thunderous applause greeted Woodrow Wilson as he started the long way to the triple dais that looked out over the House of Representatives. While there was plenty of applause, there were none of the customary whoops and cheers that had greeted Wilson in the previous four years he had come to Congress to deliver his annual address, something no president had done since John Adams. The solemn mood in the chamber matched Wilson's serious mood. President Wilson, known as something of a stick in the mud amongst Washington society, was usually jovial when he greeted the well-wishers who flanked both sides of the aisle. Not today. There was tension in the air today. Everyone knew what Wilson would say. He would ask Congress to do something that they had never done since the Republic's founding.

Wilson waited for the applause to die down as he stood at the podium. He squared his glasses and then glanced down at the notes in his hand before he began to speak.

"I have called the Congress into this extraordinary session because there are serious, very serious changes of policy to be made..."

At the back of the chamber, two figures watched on as Wilson spoke. To the naked eye, they looked like two normal men in suits and ties. They may be congressmen or some sort of midlevel bureaucrats in the Wilson Administration. They were easily forgettable in every aspect. Which is how the magic worked. Underneath the charms and spells that hid their outer appearance to the world, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson hadn't changed much since the days they had been commander in chief. Even though was Jefferson 174 and Adams 182, they looked no different than they had in the early 19th century, when they were the ones addressing Congress and addressing the issues facing the Republic.

"I can't believe this is happening," Jefferson said softly. "I pray Congress will not declare war."

"It will happen, Thomas," Adams replied. "German aggression as gone on long enough. Try as we might, this vortex of insanity and war has begun to suck the United States in. Europe burns, the whole world has gone mad--"

"And that madness seeks to snuff out this country's shining beacon," said Jefferson.

"Armed neutrality, it now appears, is impracticable," Wilson said from the rostrum. "The world must be made safe for democracy. Its peace must be planted upon the tested foundations of political liberty. This is why I call upon the Congress to issue a declaration of war upon the German Empire."

The entire chamber rose in a standing ovation at Wilson's words. Adams rose, with Jefferson rising to his feet more slowly and clapping less enthusiastically.

"Do you not remember the words of your own son, John?" Jefferson said over the applause. "About how the United States should not go abroad in search of monsters to destroy."

"Yes," Adams said wistfully. "And we both know where he is, and what he's fighting for."

"It is a fearful thing to lead this great peaceful people into war, into the most terrible and disastrous of all wars, civilization itself seeming to be in the balance," Wilson said as the applause died down.

"But the right is more precious than peace, and we shall fight for the things which we have always carried nearest our hearts — for democracy, for the right of those who submit to authority to have a voice in their own governments, for the rights and liberties of small nations, for a universal dominion of right by such a concert of free peoples as shall bring peace and safety to all nations and make the world itself at last free. To such a task we can dedicate our lives and our fortunes, everything that we are and everything that we have, with the pride of those who know that the day has come when America is privileged to spend her blood and her might for the principles that gave her birth and happiness and the peace which she has treasured. God helping her, she can do no other."

"'Everything that we are and everything that we have'," Jefferson muttered amidst another standing ovation. "That is what we'll lose. Including the lives of countless young men... and maybe even our souls."

"You always were melodramatic," Adams said with the roll of his eyes. "This war is horrible and unlike anything we've ever seen, but that does not mean our country's future is at stake."

----

Moscow
0534 Local Time


"Our country's future is at stake!"

The door flew open as Andrew Jackson rushed out onto the rooftop of the apartment building. John Quincy Adams chased after the taller Jackson and tried his best to keep pace with Jackson's longer strides. Both men carried revolvers in their hands.

"The future of the entire world is at stake!" Adams shouted.

Four men in dark clothing came out the doorway and aimed revolvers at the fleeing men. They shouted in Russian before taking shots at the two former presidents. From over his shoulder, Jackson aimed and shot one man flush in the chest. Jackson smiled as he leapt from the rooftop and easily cleared the gap between the roof and the adjacent one. Quincy Adams jumped right behind Jackson and landed on shaky legs.

"The Timekeepers, the Bolsheviks," Adams wheezed. "The Romanovs... the mad monk... It's all... all related."

"Come on, Adams," Jackson growled. He pushed Adams down and squeezed off two shots above the man's head, taking out two of the pursuing agents with headshots. "We've got to go now!"

"We've got to let the Executive Branch know what we know."

"And they will," Jackson said as he led Adams towards a fire escape. "But it won't do us a bit of goddamn difference if we die here in Moscow. Now, follow me and we'll get away safely. I let you do the talking when we needed diplomacy, Adams. But now is the time for killing, and this is where I do my best work."

-----

Belgium
0211 Local Time


To George Washington, the artillery strike sounded like a drumroll. That was how they did war now. They pulverized the land and hoped that the enemy occupied whatever patch of ground they were currently demolishing. There was no skill or generalship anymore. It was whole-scale butchery of the likes that Washington had never seen. If he were in command, these men who called themselves generals would have been shot or hanged for their incompetence. He'd seen many Civil War battles and was sickened by the carnage, but the battlefields of Belgium and France made him long for Cold Harbor and Antietam.

His squad were currently positioned a half-mile away from the battle line, on the Entente side of combat. From the hill they were hidden on, Washington could see the long line and the barren no man's land that they would have to cross. This was the first time he was leading men into battle since the Whiskey Rebellion over a hundred and twenty years ago.

"Sir?" Alexander Hamilton said as he came over the hill. "It's time."

Washington nodded and followed Hamilton down the hill. The squad he would lead into battle stood at the foot of the hill waiting for him. They were familiar faces, members of the Executive Branch who had once been great warriors in their past life. Hamilton and James Monroe had served with Washington in the Revolution, the intense William Tecumseh Sherman was no stranger to the total warfare that now consumed Europe, and Robert E. Lee was without a doubt the most famous and infamous American solider of the 19th century. Hamilton, Monroe, Sherman, and Lee made up Washington's small squad.

"Men," he said with a nod at them all. "I do not know what waits for us on the other side of the line, but I do know our intelligence is solid. The man responsible for this entire dreaded war is not far from where we are, this man who has dominated European politics from behind the scenes for over one hundred years and continues to seek total destruction of Europe in the name of France. If we can succeed in our mission tonight, we can end the past two and a half years of suffering in one single stroke. He has his own elite guard and will be expecting something, which is why we must move fast and strike even faster. Napoleon Bonaparte is many things, but foolish is not one of them. If we attempt to assassinate him, we must not miss. Good luck to all of you, and may God be with us. Now, let's move."

Without another word, Washington and his men began down the hill and started the silent march towards the raging battlefield.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Dedonus
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Atlanta, Georgia

Several Hours Ago

The streets of Atlanta, while not entirely deserted, were still being traversed by only a few people, especially tourists who were temporarily stuck in the city because of the ‘Pax Metahumana’ threat. In spite of this, people still tried to go about their normal business because Lost Haven, which was said to be the epicenter of this entire mess, was miles and miles away. Surely those superheroes would fix it before anything could happen to the southern United States.

A group of friends at this particular moment departed from the World of Coca-Cola museum. Between that museum and the Georgia Aquarium, they were about ready to grab dinner and then head back to the hotel where they had been staying. Although, unlike other tourists, these friends had just arrived in town yesterday and therefore were not hindered by the nationwide warning about avoiding travel as much as possible, they still had to check into which places had closed due to the ‘Pax Metahumana’ threat and which places had not.

However, before they left for dinner, these friends decided to take a quick stroll through the Centennial park that was located right next to the Georgia Aquarium and the Coca-Cola museum. Since it was so close by, they thought that they might as well take a look at the venue that Atlanta built when they hosted the Olympic games in 1996. After this group of girls took pictures of themselves next to the Fountain of Rings and the Olympic concert stage and after they had traversed around the entire park, they decided that it was about time they head back to their car and find something to eat.

While they were walking back, it happened.

From atop of the SunTrust Plaza, the tallest building in Atlanta, a hidden Pax Metahumana device activated, generating a green dome that started at the apex of the tower and then eventually spread to encompass the entire city, along with some of the neighboring areas. Even if these girls wanted to run, it would have been in vain because they were enclosed within the dome in a matter of seconds. And as the dome passed by them, they all felt a slight tingle throughout their bodies for a few seconds until it disappeared. Otherwise, however, everything else seemed normal within the dome, besides everything appeared a little more green in hue.

The fours girls stood there in shock. How was this happening, since the device was supposed to be in Lost Haven? Crazy and uncanny things only happened in Lost Haven, didn’t they? Yet now, there was a giant dome-like structure over Atlanta.

One of the girls suddenly lurched forward in pain, wrapping her arms around her stomach as she fell to her knees. Her friends were astonished by how their friend was acting.

“Kyra,” One of her friends begged her, hoping that it was just an act, “This isn't a time for you to be joking around!”

“I’m,” Kyra paused as she winced in pain, “not!”

Then, Kyra’s friends watched in horror as their friend morph into something that wasn’t human. Even though it was painful for Kyra to endure this transformation, it was even more excruciating for her friends to stand by and witness whatever the ‘Pax Metahumana’ dome was doing to her. While the transformation was under way, it seemed as if it was not changing Kyra uniformly, but rather it was affecting different portions of her body almost at random. However, once the transformation had been complete, it was clear that, even though the process seemed random, the end result was not, in the sense she had not become some kind of Frankenstein's monster.

“Um, guys, what’s with the stares?” Kyra asked with a hint of concern and fear in her voice once the pain had died down. Something felt off to her. Even though she knew that she was on the ground, everything seemed larger around her. Her friends just gave each other concerned glances since they were unsure what to say. “Spit it out already!”

“Well, we don’t know how best to say it,” One of her friends replied, pulling out her cell phone from her pocket and setting the camera function to use the screen facing shutter, “So it’s probably better to just show you.”

In the cell phone screen, Kyra saw her reflection, although she did not see her own face. Instead, a fox’s face stared back at her, with red, glowing eyes. But it wasn’t just her head, but her entire body was like a fox’s. The fur that covered her body matched the color of what her hair used to be. And she had not one, but nine long, bushy tails that were arranged almost just like the train of a peacock.

Thoughts of fear invaded her mind. How was she supposed to live her life now? She was no longer bipedal. She no longer had opposable thumbs. How could she survive in the normal world? And what would her boyfriend think? She was now way past the ‘furry’ stage of the sliding scale of anthropomorphism. She was now basically an animal with a human consciousness and a soul.

Kyra then rested her head on the ground, covering up her eyes with her fox paws. She hoped that when she opened her eyes that everything would be normal again. No domes. No metahumans. No foxes. She not only hoped for it, but she prayed. She prayed to God that by his hand he would help her through this, no matter what.

When she opened her eyes, Kyra was a little disoriented. Her surroundings had changed somehow. However, when she examined herself, to her horror Kyra discovered that she was still trapped in this nine-tailed fox’s body. Cursed, even. But how did she get here, wherever it was. When she glanced around, she discovered a sign that said ‘Martin Luther King Jr. National Historic Site’. How did she get here? Wasn’t this place several blocks away from Centennial Park? And a better question was, how was she going to find her friends again?
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Dedonus
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Christopher Arthur III | Kelly Brown | Samantha "Sammy" Kadowsky | Zac Wilson

"WHAT?!" Boom practically screamed. "You want to talk about terrorists? There's one right in front of you. I knew you were a shitty hero but you can't possibly be this comfortable working with a man who tried to kill us all."

“Can we please deal with one crisis at a time. And I’m a shitty hero? I want to see you try being perfect while having a spy organization breathing down your neck.”

Chris would have continued, had Boom not turned her attention towards her brother and then momentarily towards War-Pulse. Then, she dashed away, leaving everyone else behind. Thunderbolt tried to reassure everyone that she would be back, but when he said ‘I think’, doubt did creep into Chris’ mind.

“And I thought this day could not get any worse.” Chris muttered under his breath. Things were so much simpler when the public existence of metahumans was not well known. Now, Chris was just a regular man, albeit rich, in a sea of superhumans. If it were not for his power suit, Chris would not know how he would exist in this world.

“Well then, now that’s over with, let’s continue.” Chris tried to steer everyone back on topic. Chris then pulled out his cell phone again and momentarily started to tap his finger against the touch screen. Then, suddenly the device that War-Pulse had brought with him, which was originally Chris’, switched the image it was projecting to a 3D model of the villain’s base, or at least what was left of it, since S.T.R.I.K.E. had leveled the floors that were above the basement.

“Okay, we’ll split into two teams. The first team will enter here,” Chris gestured towards one of the openings into the lower section of the base, “Hopefully this will draw out their metahuman team. While they’re distracted, a second team will enter through a second entrance and take Doctor Diplodoc by surprise.”

Chris paused after saying the leader’s name, not believing that he said that name out loud. He turned towards the three Albany metahumans. “Is that really his name?”

“Don’t look at us. We didn’t pick it.” Zac responded to Chris’ question.

Before Chris could continue with the debriefing, the elevator door opened yet again. For a moment, Chris thought it might be Boom returning from her temper tantrum, but the person who exited the elevator carriage was not Thunderbolt’s sister. Instead, it was some girl wearing a hoodie and carrying some sort of sword.

I came with Boom. The Slag in blue lighting stripes can vouch for me.” The girl nervously declared, probably because no one except for Thunderbolt and Boom seen this girl before.

Before Chris said anything about the presence of this newcomer to the crowd of heroes around him, he sent a short text to his assistant, Minerva, that they need to improve their security because random people are just waltzing in. He then addressed the matter at hand.

“Really, Thunderbolt. This is what your sister does? Send us a twelve-year old girl? How could this day get any worse?”
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by VATROU
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-- New York Police Department Headquarters --

The old style brick layed out to stand the test of time, ageless throughout it’s history it has been assaulted, and blown up. Yet still it stands grandiose against all that has been pitted against it. And today as America sits on a pivotal moment with Meta Bombs blasting across the Nation creating panic and destruction in their wake Police Chief Ian Phorcer Ferill stood towering over his Police Officers his thin arms outstretched on a railing as he had just delivered a series of orders to mobilize. He watched as Detective Dynamo led his Stars and Stripes team outside to a Mobile Command Center and he lamented about his lack of authority over them.

Look at them go, thugs the lot of them. I can see it in their eyes; you can tell after a century on the force when you see Criminals like them. Not a bit of respect towards the law or those that keep it. The Mayor is a bad egg, and he gathered a whole basket full to keep him company.

With a sigh his hands dropped to his sides as if he had held a weight in each hand and walked over to his office. His cold hands grasped the handle and swiftly turned it while stepping into his office while a fan blows across his desk while the Station was frantically rushing about deploying. Sirens blared as Cop Cars raced to search building after building block by block while the Local Heroes did their best to no avail. Poseidon Energy was locked down, the Investors and potential buyers rattled by the recent events.

-- Earlier at Poseidon Energy --

“Mrs. Patton!” One Investor called out.”Why are we not heading towards a panic room, do you not see the danger we are so clearly in!?”

“We are in a panic room. This entire building is currently shielded by the Bulwark Of Aegis; nothing physical nor energy nor even gases can penetrate this field. Should one of these bombs go off we will be completely protected.” Briley said as some tension dissipated from the room, still many were on edge Briley thinking about what she could do have a thought. “Why don’t we head down to the lounge. Our company has a rather large and accommodating recreational facility where our employees can relax and unwind.”

“That. Would be appreciated.” Briley nodded, and led the group towards the elevator and onto the lounge floor.

-- Meanwhile At Christopher Arthur’s Tower of totally not Compensating for something --

Eva shifted her weight as she rubbed her right arm unsure of anything that’s happening. As a Man spoke towards Thunderbolt. “Really, Thunderbolt. This is what your sister does? Send us a twelve-year old girl? How could this day get any worse?”

You think your day is bad!” Eva shouted out, due to his rudeness although she probably wasn’t someone they’d expected to show up. “I was told this was a meeting of Heroes, like Icon over there. Not a Fetish Club meetup. I’m half expecting someone to break out the ball gag and latex. Uh. You’re not doing that, are you?”

Somewhat still embarrassed by her outburst she continued. “Look, I may not be Icon, and I may be younger than most of you. But I have a magic sword that can cut through practically anything.”
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Tearstone
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Sherman Square | Apartments | Night of the Riots

Justine sat against the rear of her car. By now fire trucks had been positioned around the place, along with a number of cop cars, and EMS first responders. One such car had pulled up, spilling an older looking gentleman out of it. He was dressed in riot gear, sans the helmet, shield and some of the other things. He hardly cast a glance about before Justine had rushed into his arms for a moment, hugging him tight. "Heyyyy," he said, hugging her back, only to urge her back to the ground, settling her down some. "Sorry," she said apologetically as their surroundings seemed to sink in. This probably wasn't the place for that, since after all, eh was on duty.

One hand waved her off dismissively. "It's fine. I'd expect nothing less," he said, somehow managing to look relieved and worried. His blue-gray hazel eyes, the same ones she'd inherited regarded her intently. "What happened? You look okay? Did you get hurt or anything?"

Justine shook her head as she shifted back a little to lean against her car once more. "Dad, I'm fine. Some guy broke into the apartment. Well it was two, actually. I was in my room, working on an article. I heard a crash in the living room, like the door busted in. I grabbed my gun, and went out. I found this bozo in a sort of respirator mask in a fight with... I dunno. It was like armor, or a robot or something. You know how these weird people have been popping up, doing things around the city? One of those types. I yelled at them to get out. They didn't, they had kept fighting. I had drawn down on them. At that point the guy int he armor seemed to have stopped for the moment, but the mast guy.. he made a move toward me." She paused a moment, reaching up with one hand to cover her mouth with a shaking hand, just briefly. "I shot him. Just like you taught me. Bullet after bullet. I know hit him. I saw several of the bullets just kind of crumple against his flesh and fall off, leaving little welts behind. Didn't seem to do more than sting, if anything." She shook her head. "I-I think I just made him mad, or madder if anything. He kept coming, but the guy in the armor stopped him. The bozo in the mask grabbed onto the guy and started crushing him or something or so I thought." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "I rushed to go get more ammo. I turned to look back , when these weird coffin or feather looking things about yay big," she held up her hands to show him the size, "Swirled around the two of them. And then everything went white. When I woke up.. I was on the other side of my room. The door had slammed shut. The apartment was a wreck. The whole area looked like a bomb had gone off or an artillery strike had hit it. There was a big hole in several floors, the windows.. well. you see." She shook her head, feeling tears well up in her eyes. Of course she was leaving out the part about Racheli for the moment. It was surprising how easy the lie came. It wasn't exactly a full lie, which is what made any lie successful.

Donaled reached out to pull his daughter into another embrace as she began to try to keep it together. He'd opted to just listen, let her tell the story for now. "And you didn't see any bod-" he was cut off as a different siren tone, this one a warbling alert to get attention. It read HAZARDOUS MATERIALS and Gene Co. on the side. "Ohhh wonderful," the SWAT officer said sarcastically. "What are they doing here," Justine groused. Bozo had mentioned filching the mask off of a Gene Co shipment. Surely they wouldn't be along to collect such a thing so quickly, especially with the riots.

Immediately her mind was suspicious. Pushing off from the car, she reached over to stop her father as he turned to head toward the HazMat team that had just arrived on the scene. "Dad," she said, catching his gaze with her eyes, looking up at him. "I already gave my report and all. I don't think there's anything else I can really add right now. I just wanna go crash." Donald peered at his daughter who looked worn out. She wasn't used to this sort of thing, even though he'd prepped her to handle herself. "Alright. Key is still the same. Stay off of the area around Brickle." She flashed him a weary look then nodded, yawning some. "Sure," she promised as she gave him another tight hug. A few steps took her to the door, which she opened, flouncing down into the driver's seat of her car.

A moment later she had the engine turned over and was backing out. The touch of a button rolled down the window on her car, and she could hear the sergeant and her father questioning the Gene Co team. "Gentlemen, what are you and your team doing here? This is a crime scene, and apparently there was a good sized explosion in the building?"

"Sir, we were notified that there was hazardous Gene Co property in the building. Unfortuantely, it may have come in contact with a level five virus that escaped containment in one of our facilities. Until we know, we can't allow anyone in the building to prevent further contamination."

"This is a crime scene," Sergeant Danvers countered. "We can't just let people walk around in there, contaminating all the evidence."

"My people are all in isolation suits," the HazMat team leader was countering behind his rebeather and yellow isolation suit. "We'll preserve it as best we can, Sergeant. We know what we're doing. We know all about the Chain of Custody, and preserving crime scenes. But /if/ this thing gets out, you think the Black Death was bad? You think Ebola is bad? This stuff is a walk in the park. You'll bleed out of every orifice, your insides will fall out through your ass, while your skin blisters and peels. You'll convulse so hard you snap your own spine, but by then it doesn't matter as your bran is melting from the 108 degree fever."

Justine frowned. Was that the same thing Rach had? She resisted the urge to stop to talk to the man. Though suddenly her heart was hammering in her ears. Her father and Sergeant Danvers paled and looked mortified. Both of them turned around and began shouting orders to get everyone out of the building and begin quarantine procedures. By then, she was accelerating away and making a turn onto the street.

With as long as she had been around Rach, she was sure she would be experiencing signs of the same virus. She wasn't though. Maybe she was immune? Perhaps Edgewynd had something to do with that. Best if she wasn't around people right now anyway.




Justine pulled her car to the curb and parked it in front of a ranch style house with an attached two-car garage. It was as familiar as an old pair of shoes that hadn't been worn in a while, and as comfortable and inviting. It was home. The garage was shut of course. It wouldn't have mattered. It's not like she needed a key. Opening the car up, she hauled her basic luggage out, along with her bag, shut the car, locked it, then headed for the door.

Fishing the key she needed, it only took a moment to open the door and slip inside. The kitchen light was on, and sitting at the dining room table to her left was her mother. Two cups of coffee sat on the table and she looked tired while getting to her feet. It was easy to see where Justine got her looks from, in that her mother was as breathtaking as her daughter, both were built around the five foot six mark, with stunning blue-gray eyes, full and pouty lips, and filled-out builds. "Mom," Justine said, her voice breaking a little. "Hi baby," Rebecca said in greeting as she gathered her youngest into her arms. Justine clung to her mother for a moment, taking strength and comfort from that ever-familiar embrace, before slowly sighing and loosening some.

"Sit," Becca directed her daughter firmly, who did as she was told. A mug of steaming nectar of the gods was slid forward, which she quickly snatched up and took an experimental sip. It was doctored up just like she had enjoyed over the years, and made her smile. It was good to be home. In that moment, a stab of longing, of homesickness ripped through her, making tears well up in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, hiding behind another sip of coffee. At the same time, she knew that tone. She was in for it, most likely. "Now, it's late. Your father called and told me you were coming. What happened?"

"Mom, don't you have work in the morning?"

"I do," Rebecca said with a single slow nod, her tone lilting up at the last moment. There were other, more important things to take care of, like a likely rattled twenty-something daughter who was probably more blitzed than she realized. "I've slept about as much as I'm going to for now. And I'm pretty sure you're not ready for bed yet. Spill."

Justine sighed. The story came out slowly at first, but then quicker, easier. she filled her in on the details of what happened, of Racheli... the two supers that broke in and battled it out. She left out her involvement as this alter ego of course.

"And you don't know what happened to your friend," Becca asked.

"I heard that everyone got evacuated. When I was leaving a hazardous materials response team, as well as a bunch of EMS was there. I plan on checking around in a few hours. I shot dad a text to keep an eye out for her when I was on my way over here. If she pops up, he'll let me know," Justine said quietly, frowning. "Maybe that makes me a crappy friend, not going and looking for her directly. I should probably be dead. But I'm not, and if I made it out, I'm sure she did. She's a tough girl, and can handle herself. She probably will pop up shortly."

Becca eyed her daughter, not quite believing it. Years of living with a law enforcement officer, as well as working at a news station had made her a little wary of a story that was too neat. But, then again, Justine was a journalist. It seemed working in law enforcement or journalism or the media in some form was in their blood. "Alright, you're off the hook for now. And I don't think so. I'm pretty sure you were in shock a the time. Hard to have all your ducks in a row at a time like that. Having the presence of mind to gather all your stuff up that you could, and hers... Most people would have just ran. You did okay, sweetheart. I'll poke around too." Both mugs were empty by now. "Reload?"

Justine nodded. "Yes, please," she replied softly, letting her hair fall forward some to hide her face for a few moments. "I don't know what I'm going to do for a place now," she groused. That was one of the big concerns on the list. "And I'm probably going to need money to make a new place happen. You know, people like security deposits and stuff." Lightly drumming her oval nails on the table top for a moment, she accepted the mug her mother brought back. "Thanks. So, while doing the blog and freelancing thing helps. I really need to find something steadier. More stable. You know?"

"Well..." Becca thought for a moment. "You're doing pretty good as a freelancer. I mean really really good. You made like over eighty thousand last year. Most full-time payrolled reporters make an average of around thirty-six grand a year. The higher paid ones make about forty-five." She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head a little. "With that kind of money you could take the year off if you wanted."

"I know mom," she sighed. "I know. Money's not a concern right now, but it will be, I'm sure. Maybe.. I'm just feeling vulnerable right now. I guess that's understandable after having where I live blown up by brawling capes. And one of them mentioned something about Gene Co. I .. " She cut herself off, tapping a nail as she sipped at her coffee. "I should look into that. Really. I'm sure someone will want to know what Gene Co. is doing. But it could be dangerous. They're a powerful umbrella corp."

"I know baby," her mother said. "I'll help if I can. That's one good thing that working for an official media outlet is good for. Research library, archives, and an entire network of contacts, not to mention your own." Justine nodded. "Yeah. I know. That's another reason. And oh yeah, full benefits. I don't have that on my own, twisting in the wind. But... right now I'm my own boss, which is good."

"That is always a bonus. Not many people your age can say that. And not many your age are as successful as you have been. You're twenty-four years old and making as much as I am," she said pride and a small smile.

"Right. Alright," Justine said. "I need to get a shower. I smell like a camp fire. After that I think I'll try to get some sleep." As she finished, she drained the last of her mug. A couple cups of coffee wouldn't be a real problem. She practically lived on the stuff, and with the day she had, Justine was sure she would crash fast. Already she was getting to her feet. Rebecca joined her. "Gimme your clothes and I'll put them in the wash. Doesn't help to job and house hunt, or go hunting a story smelling like a crematorium."

It only took a second to retrieve her luggage and wheel it over to her mother. "My babygirl," Becca said as she regarded her daughter fondly. "I'm proud of you. And I'm happy your home, even if it's only temporary." Justine rolled her eyes a little. "God... Mom, stop." She couldn't keep the embarrassment out of her voice, but there was a small smile there. Justine then murmured, "Love you too." Turning quickly she grabbed her backpack, and headed toward the other side of the house, toward her bedroom. It was on the front side of the house. She drifted past the bathroom, dropped off her bag in her room. Moving quickly she headed for the bathroom and quickly slipped out of her clothes and started up the shower.

Morning would come far too early, even though technically it already was.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by NeutralNexus
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The depths of empty space thundered as Mercy, the will of the World, brought the fight to Umbraxis. She had powered through the mighty black orbs of dark matter, the blasts colliding and scattering off of her form as she drove herself straight into the darkness. The celestial bodies collided in the endless vacuum with immense impact, like two planets smashing into one another as the obsidian void was pushed through the heavens by the light, careening back through the storms of Jupiter. It was on the defensive, the light slamming into it again and again like two waves crashing into one another, the clouds on Jupiter’s surface being parted with each thunderous impact.

You will not have the World! I will not let it! Mercy proclaimed as she battered the endless void, slamming another extension of her formless body into the destroyer, batting him back out of the planet’s gravitational pull and tossing it from the surface. Tumbling through space, the black entity only regained its bearing after it slammed off the surface of one of Jupiter’s moons, skidding along its surface and leaving a mighty scar along the rock before tumbling back out into open space. As it glanced back at its pursuer, it was met with streams of light, super-concentrated beams that sliced into its body, forcing it to erect a shield of antimatter strong enough to repel the attack. However, it still found itself being pushed back, and another explosive beam sent it further into space, rocketing towards the next planet with speeds that no human could comprehend.

As creation, I oppose you, and as your opposition, I am your equal! She continued, punctuating her statements with continued blasts of radiance. You cannot beat me, you cannot destroy me, and you cannot devour my World!

Umbraxis seemed to not be able to fight back, taking blow after blow of both light and force from the other, slamming it again and again, battering it with moon-shattering power until the two entities battled their way to saturn. With a mighty twist of her form, The Light known as Mercy sent another Earth-Shattering slam of her body into Umbraxis that slammed it directly through Saturn’s rings. The collision making such an impact through the mass of rocks that made up the rings that it created a massive hole through it visible from jupiter, the size of Earth two times over.

You speak of destruction and death as salvation, that you are the cure to corruption, but what say you now? Mercy demanded, pursuing the blackhearted for through the depths of space to slam into the entity once more, careening it outward towards empty space once more. What say you to someone who can meet you? That can fight you on equal ground?

The black entity didn’t respond, its body drifting aimless through the air.

What’s the matter? Mercy spoke, her voice wavering through their minds. Have you finally come to the realization that I am your equal? That only I have the power to match yours?

Again, Umbraxis did not respond, its body now seemingly lifeless. She knew it was not unconscious, it could still hear her.

Well, Pestilence? How do you respond? Do you yield to me? Admit that the threads of the World are--

Her speech was abruptly cut off by laughter. Horrendous, terrifying laughter that filled the endless silence of space, her conscious alight with the darkness’ invasive emotions echoing through her consciousness. The endless void came to life all at once, its flowing darkness snapped into position, the flowing shadows regenerating from her original assault to the point where it looked like it had not been damaged at all.

What say I, Little Mercy? The Destroyer began, more laughter echoing through their minds. I say that its time to stop pretending. As much as I’ve enjoyed this little exchange, it is no longer cute to entertain the thought that we are anything close to equals.

What?! You will regret those words! Eat this! Mercy proclaimed, barreling through the emptiness of space once more at vicious velocity, an extension of her body cocked back like a fist to slam into Umbraxis with all of her might. I am the World! And you will know my power!

She threw the extension forward, the vicious strike soaring towards its target with a display that would be unfollowable to the human eye. It connected with astonishing impact, the mashing of particles creating explosive shockwaves that rocked the heavens. As stardust and energy sparked off the impact, the confident Mercy waited until the explosion died down to see if she had finally put the Destroyer down.

What she found was the body of Umbraxis starting back at her, unflinching and undamaged from her most powerful strike, her extension now caught within its form. The panic was starting to set in, the Light trying to pull away from the Darkness, only to find it had a grisly and unrelenting hold upon her.

You know what the best part about confrontations like these are? The entity began, much to the panic of the now writhing Mercy. This moment here, when you finally realize just how much our powers divide.

Mercy at this point was struggling hard, but Umbraxis’ grip upon her form was firm, and no matter how much the celestial bodies writhed, the endless void would not yield.

You speak like you are my equal, like you understand. It said, pulling Mercy ever closer to it. But the reality is that you cannot even begin to comprehend. You are a representative of a single pebble, and perhaps on that pebble, you bore some semblance of power, but you live in a glass dome of your own beliefs. Convinced you possess some influence on the ever expanding endlessness that is your Universe. You are wrong.

As it spoke, Umbraxis’ body seemed to light up, the anti-matter particles reacting with the dark matter housing its components, sizzling with the reactive energy from the potent mixture. In an instant, a blast of darkness erupted from the entity, painful and powerful particles washing over Mercy, rending at her body with colossal force as chunks of her celestial form were disintegrated, a large piece of her formless body now missing as she seemed to be moving a little slower, her form not pulling quite as hard as her light dimmed slightly.

Admittedly, you kept my attention longer than some, but not enough to ever be a threat. The entity said, releasing her from its grip only to smash into her with an extension of darkness, launching her through the emptiness of space, the pure force of its strike causing light to explode into the cosmos, wreathing the small solar system in flashes of light that would be visible even to Earth, striking her again and again as Mercy found herself smashing into a planet, cratering heavily into its surface and dragged along its crust as Umbraxis once more had her in its grasp. The lack of any atmosphere indicating the fight had moved its way further out, towards Neptune.

It pinned her to the planet’s surface, using its many tendrils to strike and beat her, slamming her again and again, each attack shaking Neptune to its very core with bits of planetary dust kicking up into the thing atmosphere. Mercy was weak, she attempted to lash back but only found herself floundering against Umbraxis’ relentless attacks, blasts of anti-matter pinning her back down to the planet and continuing to diminish her cosmic form.

You bore me, little Mercy. I was hoping for something more than what you gave me Umbraxis boomed, grabbing her once more and yanking her free of Neptune’s gravity, tugging her back out into the empty space. Like most proclaimed immortals, you bear nothing but a prolonged life. You believe yourself to be eternal, because you as a singular entity have never been led to believe otherwise. However, time is an ever-present consumer. No universe is permanent, no one being everlasting, everything comes from nothing, and nothing is where it will eventually return to. That reality is always silently present, forgotten or unrecognized because most choose to banish it from their minds. In spirit, in mind, in body, you will be eventually forgotten. Your stories will be erased, your memory will decay, and eventually no one will be able to recall your name. In the grand scale, the Universe is simply a place created on borrowed time, and its participants are none the wiser until the Universe comes to reveal the truth.

As it spoke, it began to wrap its tendrils about Mercy, binding her body to its own as the horrid process began. Her light began to sink into its darkness, being ripped away atom by atom, matter being rent apart, torn asunder and created anew as part of its horrid, sickening form. Tearing, slashing, ripping, clawing, grinding, her very matter being manipulated into sustenance for the Endless Void.

Mercy had always wondered if it could truly feel pain, but her screams were more than enough evidence. They rang through the cosmos, any with semblance of cosmic attunement would hear her cries. The shrieks of a cosmic being bellowed through the supernatural, they tore through heightened minds, the pain ringing painfully clear as Umbraxis consumed her.

I am that truth, Mercy, and I will reveal to Earth that same truth, for oblivion comes for all.

I am the void.

I am the end of all.


With its cruel words, Mercy’s light finally flickered out, snuffed by the final destruction of her remaining body, the emptiness of her screaming filled by one final, chilling comment.

I am Umbraxis.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by MelonHead
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MelonHead The Fighting Fruit

Member Seen 4 yrs ago

Lekh Antol ‘A Chance Encounter’

(Featuring NeutralNexus)

Two Months Ago

It took Lekh just two days to get himself established in Lost Haven, he was always adaptable like that. He had left his brother’s club, Eden, with money and a whole host of information buzzing through his head. Like Lekh, Adrian was a talented criminal, capable of quickly establishing who had to be bought off and who could be rebuked, and it seemed that the younger Antol had got himself in with the biggest of the bunch in Lost Haven. Even he didn’t know much about the organisation, and it was an organisation not some petty street gang, only that it lacked the mark of the Mob or the Yakuza. Evidently it was some kind of organised crime, but what sort it was hard to tell. Adrian had only a name, and consequently that was all Lekh had as well, the Shroud Syndicate.

Still, Lekh was nothing if not resourceful and he quickly came to realise a name was almost enough. The Shroud Syndicate were powerful, and by merit of that they were not as secretive as many of their rivals in other cities, at least on a certain level. Every low level gang member in the French Quarter seemed to owe their affiliation to the Syndicate, it was like some great conglomeration of gangs headed by what Lekh could only assume were master organisers. To say he was impressed would be an overstatement, but he was getting an inkling that to be close to the aristocracy of such an outfit would place him in a beneficial and perhaps even lucrative position. So, with a goal in mind the man set himself to work.

The tall man walking down the strip in the early hours of the evening was almost unrecognisable as the man who had stepped off a trawler with bag in hand and a cold fire in his eyes. He was dressed differently, for one, a leather sports jacket with a baseball team’s insignia blazoned on the back, ripped jeans, a stained white t-shirt and black steel toe-caps completed the ensemble of one who belonged on the streets. Those same boots gave him an extra two inches of height, a small but noticeable difference from his standard. This was not the only mark of subterfuge on his body however, short dyed ginger hair adorned his scalp and his eyes were of a brown-green hue. His skin, naturally pale like most from Poland, had been stained slightly to mimic a slight tanning, and his appropriated hair colour explained the rest. Finally, he wore a form of transparent gum-shield that caused his lower jaw to jut out thuggishly, changing the structure of his face subtly. All in all, he looked a lot different.

It was this man that had been asking the wrong questions to the wrong people. Although that all depended on whose perspective you looked at it from. Everything Lekh did was testing, he was gauging the worthiness of his chosen organisation with a keen and very experienced eye. He wanted to see how and when the Syndicate, or more likely its affiliates, reacted to his probing. Like a fisherman dangling his bait over a river of criminality, it was only a matter of time until he got a bite. His wait was finally over, an impressive three days after his first overly forward question in a dingy bar.

There were two of them, low level enforcers judging by the thuggish look took about them. The tire irons they held low to their sides were painfully obvious to Lekh as he continued to nonchalantly stroll down the street, spotting an alley-way to his left up ahead. Their footsteps echoed behind him in the quiet street, it being an off day for clubbers and far too early to boot, he couldn’t fault them on their timing at least even if their approach left much to be desired. Even as he walked with a calm air his mind raced, should he kill them or incapacitate them? He had both firearm and knife on his person, not to mention a whole host of other nasty trickery, but if this was a test for him then killing them might be a fail. He was determined to make a good impression, organisations don’t grow as large as the Shroud Syndicate by ignoring talent, and he had just a little talent of his own.

Resolving not to kill the hapless men following him, as their weapons professed they too were unlikely to be trying to kill him, Lekh quickly darted into the alley-way. The surprised grunt from behind followed by running footsteps confirmed his already strong suspicions, and they pursued him even as he turned to face them. His hands rose in a mock peaceable gesture and they advanced, blunt objects held aloft, with a dumpster caught between them.

“You’ve bin askin the wrong sorta questions ginge.” One of them said as he approached, Lekh couldn’t really tell them apart as they both looked like the most generic rough-sorts he had ever seen. They were almost laughably similar in fact, both with big bald white heads and scarred faces with half their teeth knocked out. He concealed a grin behind a hand raised in mock fear, stuttering out a poor response, setting them at ease. There was nothing those sorts liked more than a man too afraid to fight. Lekh wasn’t afraid, he found fighting an unnecessary inconvenience most of the time, but in this case showing a little flair was in his greater long term interest. As the two reached the dumpster Lekh abruptly stopped and the first of the thugs filed into the gap with the other close behind. It was then that he struck, his aura lashing out in front of him in near nauseating levels. The poor mental discipline of the street roughs was evident as Lekh charged, the first had stumbled back from the effect and the one behind had lowered his weapon. As Lekh’s right hand had risen in front of his face his left hand adorned itself with steel, and that brutally efficient weapon allowed him to knock the first of the thugs down with a sucker-punch of epic proportions. The cracking of the man’s jaw was audible from outside the alleyway as he reeled and collapsed, knocked unconscious. The second man reacted better, he had almost risen his weapon again as Lekh came in low, his right forearm clamping down on his enemies, stranding his weapon in the air and exposing his side. The repeated blows from Lekh’s armoured left hand cracked ribs and generally lay waste to the thug’s body, before he finished him with an upper-cut. It was dirty, but efficient.

-----------------

Even as the second man collapsed, grunting and crying out in pain, Lekh heard movement from the end of the alley. It seemed someone had been watching after all.

At the end of the alleyway stood a woman, attired in a conservative yet clean-cut business blazer and skirt combo with a distinct velvety purple blouse underneath. Her jet black hair was draped down to her shoulders, curled and waved to slightly cover her face. Her face showed her age to most likely entering her early thirties, while her face still exuded young, feminine beauty the small hints of future wrinkles and the glint of experience in her eyes hinted at a wiser, more careful individual.

To Lekh, she said nothing, a quick glance to the two enforcers writhing on the floor was the only hint that she acknowledged his actions at all. She bore no signs of panic or fear from the occurrence, nor did she flare her nose in anger. Her expression was only that of a small smile, a hint of intrigue and amusement from the sudden display of violence that had erupted in the back alley, a knowing gaze at the surroundings seemed to hint that she may have foreseen this outcome.

This appearance was short-lived, however, as it seemed the female observer was quick to leave the scene once it had expectedly played out, and with a turn on her heel, she made a slow but deliberate exit.

To any career criminal, this situation would be unusual. Traditionally, the observer was supposed to make sure the target was either dead or learned their lesson by the end of the hit, and if not the observer was supposed to finish the job or report back if the job was botched. However, she did not bolt off in a panic, nor had she drawn a weapon and tried to gun Lekh down where he stood. Instead, her movement was deliberate, her pace fast enough to get some headway, but slow enough for the Polish metahuman to follow at a brisk stride. She was moving down the busy, crowded streets back towards the busier, ritzier side of the French Quarter, to the flashy lounges of Little Paris.

She was not looking to kill him, she was looking for him to follow her. The question was, would he take the bite to her lure? Or continue fishing on his own?

-----------------

Games, games, Lekh loved and hated them. The man stepped over the writhing brutes with a discontented air, perhaps a few moments after the woman had made her departure. She had seized the advantage by offering to lead him and Lekh wasn’t sure he wanted to play the game that way. Sure, he wanted in on the Syndicate, but there was no certainty that he was getting it just by following some broad down the high-street. Business was already picking up, the night was drawing on and there was fun to be had any day for the rich and aimless. He reached the end of the alley with an observant glance, checking he wasn’t walking into a trap. Satisfied he picked out the tail-end of the departing lady, her pace brisk enough to pursue at his leisure he took one final look around and then set off after her. If this was still part of a test he was determined to succeed.

His steps carried him through the French Quarter to a region he was not yet familiar with. His brother’s club was settled on the outskirts of Little Paris, an area of affluence and class that the younger Antol brother could not easily buy his way into with money alone. If nothing else, he wouldn’t follow her in like a fool. Every step was carefully placed, weaving in and out of crowds he discarded his mouth-piece and turned his jacket inside out to reveal a plain brown overcoat. He was most at home in a crowd, but that did not mean his guide would not have experienced people pursuing them. It was in his best interest to make any pursuit as difficult as possible. It seemed his mysterious guide meant to take him into the lion’s den.

-----------------

The woman did not have Lekh follow her very far into Little Paris before the glitz and glamour began to overwhelm the senses. Arguably the wealthiest part of town, the section was filled to the brink with wealthy men and women willing to spend their fortunes on a night out on the town. While being a modern addition to the healthy city of Lost Haven, Little Paris had a classic feel to it, as if it was built with the intention of looking like it never left the 1940s. The Broadway-style theaters were already ablaze with excited ticket holders looking to be engrossed in tonight 3 act plays, the nightclubs and lounges echoed with the sounds of music and laughter, the clink of champagne glasses faintly ringing even to an outsider at the entrance of each passing bar. Indeed it was a sight to behold, a treasure among the dense city of Lost Haven accessible only by those who had the cash to sustain it.

Of course, this did not stop the woman in black, gliding through the crowds like it was second nature, shifting in and out of gatherings as if she was a mere dust cloud among the sandstorm. She occasionally looked back, seeming to make sure Lekh was following her as she navigated the clustered streets of men in three-piece suits and woman wearing their best dresses. With every glance, a flash of a knowing grin as she waltzed from street to street, her goal ever ahead for what was at least 45 minutes, keeping herself within visual range with the Polish professional, but not enough for him to ever catch her without sticking out like a sore thumb, keeping the bait close but not within biting distance of her potential fish.

Within a few more minutes, the woman came to a stop at a large lounge by the name of 'Heaven's Gate', its name plastered in a neon sign high above the entrance. Outside stood a pair of large men, attired in a three-piece suit that barely hid both their impressive musculature and the concealed firearms that would be detectable by only the trained eye, standing at either side of the doorway as Lost Haven's elite came through the doorways. The women, undaunted, walked directly up to one of the men who immediately brought their undivided attention to her, one lowering his head down to meet her whispers. What was said was minimal, a few whispers and nods, but during their conversation the enigmatic woman in black sent her gaze directly to Lekh, motioning to him as he continued before walking through the door, the doorman returning to his post as soon as the conversation ended. She motioned for Lekh to follow as she passed into the doorways, surely she would not be planning a trap in such an establishment, would she?

-----------------

Lekh had donned a fashionable trilby by the time he was in sight of ‘Heaven’s Gate’. In the dark his jeans weren’t too far off stylish suit trousers but the moment he walked into any patch of illumination the jig was up. He had expected the Syndicate to have high connections, but nothing could have prepared him for the affluence he had waltzed into. Painfully aware that he stuck out like a sore thumb due to unforeseeable circumstances evolving around him he was still making it as difficult as possible to pick him out. Or so he thought, as his mark walked right up to two bouncers at the front entrance of the lounge prior mentioned and then gestured noticeably towards him.

“Kurwa.”

He didn’t like it, there were really only two paths laid out for him. Either he was getting in with the boss, completely under his terms with little room for negotiation, or he was being led to his death. If it was the latter they would find him a costly corpse, his hand tightened over the steel knuckles and he could release his pent in aura at a whim, giving him vital time to turn an ambush into the exact opposite for the muscle men or anyone else further inside. Re-assured, if still a little apprehensive, he crossed the street towards the lounge and prepared to head on in.

The bouncers immediately snapped to Lekh's attention as soon as he got within a few feet of the door, the quick turn of their heads indicating the priority of whatever the woman in black had told them. However, they did not arm themselves, nor did they block Lekh's entrance when he made the attempt. In fact, they opened the door for him, gesturing to enter the club. It appeared the woman in black wanted him to enter the establishment, but for what purpose was yet to be unfolded.

The club seemed to bear the same classic feel as the entirety of Little Paris, only to the scale of a club and somehow even more high-end. There were few chairs or tables to speak of on the ground floor, most of the clientele seemed keener to stand unless they were near the bar. The place seemed broken into about three floors, each more exuberant than the last both in style and in expense as they evolved into pseudo-balconies on the upper floors, looking over the first floor like vultures over the less fortunate. The ground floor seemed the most packed, groups of entrepreneurs, businessmen, lawyers and inheritors all musing among one another with small talk of their many enterprises. The area was bathed in warm peach lighting, shining off of both the white tiling and the sparkling dresses of the women. The echoes of smooth jazz drifted over the crowds from the band situated on the small, nearby stage overlooking the crowd, cordoned off by velvety ropes, bouncing to the tables above. This was no ordinary club by what Lekh could already hear, this was a place that partnerships were made over martinis and companies were founded over caviar.

As Lekh was taking it in, his train of thought would be interrupted by one of the waitstaff. By now he was already gaining a bit of attention to his person, due to the fact he was far under-dressed and had not by this point sunken into the crowds. Before he could gain his bearings, he would feel a hand at his back, the waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses, the other lightly guiding Lekh to take his lead.

"Where have you been?!?" The waiter spoke aloud, audibly for nearby crowds to take notice of his chastisement and the annoyed look on his face. "You're three hours late and the boss is furious! You didn't call, you didn't give us notice, you didn't even use the service entrance! You can't be expecting to work at an establishment like this and expect policies not to take effect!"

The waiter continued to guide Lekh, but his gaze drifted from the Polish man to the surrounding guests, who were all returning back to their normal conversations. He pulled Lekh in closer to whisper in words only he could hear.

"The madame is waiting for you on the third floor. Once we get to the kitchen, I want you to take the service elevator up there, there will be proper attire waiting for you within." He uttered, his hand firmly on Lekh's back. "Just keep acting ashamed until we get past the kitchen doors so as not to arouse suspicion."

-----------------

Lehk, for his part, had discarded his hat now that it served no further purpose. He was underdressed, he was drawing attention, but it was no matter. His calculated eye missed very little and he had made a few assumptions in the short time before the somewhat overly complicated plan to get him through was enacted. His lips turned in a faint smile at the eruption, fearing not that those assembled would remember the face of one so low in their estimations. However, he was nothing if not flexible, acquiescing to the waiter’s demands he bowed his back and looked sullen and frustrated. He mumbled out a barely audible apology in broken English, and listened carefully as the waiter explained the plan.

Lekh and the waiter carried themselves to the kitchen with no incident, indeed those working seemed far too busy at task to pay attention to the shabbily dressed man and his guide as he was all but bundled into the service elevator. His wait was short and he emerged in smart evening wear in the form of a black tuxedo and shiny brown shoes. One would find it amazing how quickly he went from sticking out to looking like every other man in the establishment, if they cared to look for such things. Unsurprisingly, he had released his aura carefully inside the elevator, blinding any cameras to his presence. Part of the reason Lekh made such a good spy was simple, his power prevented his picture being taken by any source he had yet encountered.

He dropped his clothes negligently behind a tall-backed chair in the room and then looked for his benefactor, wondering just where the night planned to take him. He had transferred all his equipment to the various pockets and hidden places one tended to keep such things, and found it odd that the armed bouncers had not prevented him entering with such an arsenal. Perhaps they were overly confident, or they believed they had some hold over him? He was sure to find out soon, as he came across the woman who had led him to this place.

“Well then, you have led me a merry chase this evening, have you not, shall we talk?”

-----------------

"Of course, Mr. Lekh, feel free to have a seat, make yourself comfortable if you'd like." The woman said, leaning back in her chair with an arm resting on the nearby table, a hand wrapped around a glass of scotch as she lazily gazed out to the crowds below. They were now located on one of the private balconies, overlooking the floors below to see all the collaborations of wealthy men and women. Save for the two armed guards standing near the doorway, the pair were alone, though the guards were more scenery than anything else. She made another gesture to the other free seat, then motioned for a waiter passing by the doorway as well. "Have whatever you'd like to drink as well, though I imagine this won't be a terribly long conversation, considering what your brother has told us along with the actions you have taken leading up to this moment."

The woman knocked back a bit of her scotch, shifting her legs as she slid back into the seat, her eyes briefly studying the man before looking back out to the crowds below. "My name is Miss Vale, I am the proprietor of Heaven's Gate, but both you and I know by this point that this lounge, while profitable, isn't at the forefront of my concerns. As you can imagine, my employer has taken notice of your current affairs, the way you've been clumsily barging into our affairs and asking blatant questions about an organization who takes care to keep our operations a little bit more secretive than you've been led to believe." She began to run her hand along the rim of the glass absent-mindedly, staring out into the empty air, "However, the its not the kind of questions you asked, but the way you went about it. Barely three days off the boat and you're asking ill-advised questions about who runs the streets. That's not a fool asking silly questions, that's someone wanting to ascertain information." Miss Vale glanced over to Lekh, giving him a soft smile. "It doesn't take a genius to know that you would want something like this to happen, especially with the display you gave in the alleyway. Rather than continue to play the cat-and-mouse game of you testing us and us sending men to visit you, we'd rather be up front with it and ask what it is you want? Judging by your relationship with your brother and your fresh arrival into the city, we're curious. Are you looking to attack us? Give us pause in our operations? Or are you seeking employment? You've made your presence known, Mr. Antol, we've handed you the microphone and set up a stage, now it's time for you to give your speech."

-----------------

Lekh smiled amiably and took the seat that was offered to him, reclining with his right leg crossed over the left, his expression one of peaceable intent, so to speak. He waved away the waiter though, it wasn’t good to be too chummy, nor too trusting.

“No, thank you.” He smiled at the mention of his brother. “Ah Adrian, ever the snitch.” Lekh’s eyes swept the view from the balcony, taking it in without really dwelling upon what he was seeing. His ears and his mind were fixed on loftier matters, namely the words pouring from the woman’s lips.

“Clumsy, Miss Vale?” He asked with mock seriousness. “I resent that. Those questions brought me here into your lovely company did they not? And in less than a week, no mean feat.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Never mind that though.” His hands rested on the table and his leg unfolded to plant upon the ground, declaring his lack of ill intent. “As you so eloquently put it this is my opportunity to make a speech, though I would rather call it a sales pitch.” His accent was soft, but there, Polish without a doubt. “However you may wonder what product it is I am selling, and why I would go to such trouble to do so? Of course you might, but if you were to only consider what you know of my activities since entering your lovely city you would realise I have only advertised one product.” He paused for dramatic effect, half wishing he had picked up a drink to sip. “That product is of course, myself.”

He leaned back for a moment to gauge her expression, subtly leaking his aura into the air, saturating her with it, before concluding succinctly.

“So to answer your question, my intent is quite simply the latter motive you provided, Miss Vale. I am seeking employment, and I believe your Shroud Syndicate to be sufficient to purchase my services.”

-----------------

"You misunderstand what I meant by 'clumsy'." Vale said, giving the man a brief glance before taking another sip of her drink. "I actually think it was very well done, the way you made yourself known to us in such a public way to the point where you could not be ignored. If this wasn't your end goal it would be a catastrophe, but my employer tends to have a sixth sense regarding people's motives, especially when they so publicly ask about an organization that keeps itself so heavily in the dark."

Her expression barley wavered when Lekh explained his motives, leaning back in her chair. "Selling yourself as the product? Well, I'm all ears, Mr. Lekh." She shifted in her seat slightly to angle herself more towards him, slowly giving the man more of her attention. "Though you will have to be more specific in what you can provide before our organization can entertain your request. Are you interested in shipments? Scouting? Diplomatic ventures?" Her words were well-placed, hinting at sinister meanings but on the surface addressed benign positions, but as the aura began to permeate the air, her words began to get a little sloppy, giving more than they should, "Given the display in the alleyway I could see enforcing as one of your talents. Or is this a proposal regarding certain...metahuman qualities? Lord knows that in this day and age the true potential of a person is impossible to read at a surface level, anyone could have powers beyond what they say. So why not tell me more about what you offer?"

-----------------

“Well, Miss Vale, as you seem so interested.” Lekh smiled, and toned down his aura a tad, he didn’t want it to be too obvious after the fact for the woman to realise she had been mentally manipulated. “My skill-set lies, quite simply, in acquisitions. I gather rare items, information, even people.” His eyebrows raised as he said people, making it obvious there was a double meaning even as his smile grew broader. “However, I am not opposed to branching out, so to speak. You will find that I am sufficient for any task you could set a single skilled individual, perhaps more than sufficient. However, I would not have you take me at my word. You need only set me a task Miss Vale, something you have been having difficulty with, perhaps, and I will show you that my ability matches my word. Believe me when I say you will not be disappointed. Once you have seen that I can produce results I am sure we can discuss trifles like pay and other services you will then provide me at a later date, no?”

-----------------

There was a brief silence after Lekh made his offer, Vale’s eyebrow raised and a half-smirk on her face as the offer was visibly contemplated. Sitting back in her chair, the businesswoman glanced over the balcony at the crowds below once more as her finger traced the rim of her glass.

“I must say, Mister Lekh, you are certainly confident in your abilities, and your way with words is quite convincing.” She mused, pulling the drink of the table for a quick drink, her face shriveling at the sting slightly as it passed her lips before setting it back down. “You come across as if you speak from experience, but then again we both know in the kind of business we are in, we cannot simply assume from speculation.”

With her words, she pulled a folded cell phone from her blazer pocket, placing it lightly on the table.

“You came at an opportune time, we are just in the middle of tracking down something….particularly important for our employer, and we need someone to get a direct location.” She said, edging the phone towards Lekh. “Although the direct information is a bit fuzzy, we are in need of eyes on the street that may be able to find it quicker than the usual channels. These phones we provide are unlicensed and bear no GPS, so there is no chance of your signal tracing back to you, while we can feed you more info as more things come to light.” He motioned to the phone. “If you take that phone, we can keep in touch and I'll tell you the target of your search. If you leave it where it is, then consider our business over.”

-----------------

Lekh's eyes glanced at the phone, unperturbed. Technology was a little unreliable around him, but it looked sturdy and simple enough, older models tended to be a little more resilient to his aura. Still, he'd have to place a caveat on communications with him. He placed one hand on the phone and slid it towards himself, still smiling.

"I accept of course, Miss Vale. If you simply provide me with a goal I will secure it for you, and then perhaps you will let me meet your superior, hmm?" He looked at her for a moment, before flicking the phone into his palm. "One thing though, Miss Vale, if you intend to contact me through this I would advise you to send messages, what is it you say..." He thought for a moment. "Ah, text, yes have your people text me relevant information, no calls." He wasn't about to tell her the reason was that his aura tended to scramble phone-calls, where-as with enough time a message would get through even if the phone was saturated in his aura. It was the best way for him use phones, one of the few downsides to his ability.

"Will that be suitable?"

"Yes.”

"Is there anything else then, Miss Vale?"

Miss Vale gave a small nod, waving Lekh off with a free hand as she stared off the balcony, her attention no longer focused on the Polish man.

“That will be all, for now." She said. "Message us with any relevant details, we will keep in touch."

I’m sure you will.
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by KaiserElectric
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KaiserElectric Spaghetti Enthusiast

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A Xeno's Decision


"...and that is right about when I relocated back to you." Riley concluded, swaying back and forth on the plush sofa as she recollected what had happened less then an hour previously. The half-alien girl looked at her audience as though she expected them to applaud, even though she could tell that both of them were in no mood to do so. This was especially true for Mina, who hadn't stopped shaking since she came to the Arbalest HQ in Lost Haven despite a cup of strong tea. Her other listener, Hoxton, continued to sit there in silent contemplation, going over the details of the day's events in his head. They should have been securing themselves in a back room at this point, but because the lower levels of Arbalest had been pulled out to deal with security threats across town, no one was there to see her so the three of them decided to have their talk in the common room outside of the 'barracks'. The only other person Riley had seen was a younger looking man, fast asleep in front of the TV on the other end of the room, whom Hoxton had said could be trusted 'on the million to one chance that the wanker wakes up'. So there they were, crouched around a coffee table, sheltered from the dangers of Lost Haven as the panic rolled on. There was a palpable silence that hung in the air for what felt like years, punctuated only by the muffled snores of the sleeping man, before Mina set down her cup with a soft clinking sound and took a deep breath.

"Riley..." she began cautiously, clearly trying not to raise her voice higher then a whisper. "What you did was...really dangerous. If anything had...happened to you, or god forbid if you were seen-"

"They might have found us," Riley mumbled, hanging her head in shame. "I know you are upset with me, but I...I could not..."

"If it's any consolation," Hoxton suddenly interjected, his strong Sheffield accent edging itself roughly into the emotional conversation. "This was probably the best night for you to do something like that." Mina and Riley both looked at the Arbalest guard with incredulity and confusion, respectively, prompting Hoxton to explain further. "Well, look at what's happening in the news right now. Every city worth mentioning has a great bloody dome overhead and a riot underneath it, why would anyone give notice to a mugging gone right?"

"That's...a good point actually," Mina mused. "And considering that the domes are giving people powers, you could have easily been, um, mistaken for a superpower-gifted good Samaritan, or something."

"A...sa-mair-a-ten?" Riley repeated, sounding lost. She would have to look that up later.

"Point being, you lot could parade through Little Ulster flinging dumpsters around and those wankers wouldn't notice a thing." Hoxton concluded over top of them before gesturing around the tidy little common room. "Hell, you could have tried to break into HERE and nobody would be any wiser, what with all the nonsense going on."

"Darrow can be pretty thorough," Mina suggested in a dark tone.

"Well considering you fooled them into thinking there was a freak accident I think they have a few holes in their system. Yes, I know about what happened," Hoxton added hurriedly at the horrified expressions on the girl's faces at this revelation. "Jordan filled me in before you lot got here. Some of the other top guys know you came here but me and Smokey are the only ones who know all the details."

"Does...does that include WHAT she is?" Mina said accusingly, prompting an eyebrow raise from Hoxton.

"Um, I think she was your friend? I mean I'm perfectly okay if you two swing tha-"

There was a sharp intake of breath from Hoxton as he nearly jumped out of his seat in shock, staring at Riley for the first time since he met her. Mina jumped out of her seat as well once she realized what had happened, banging her shins into the coffee table in the process.

"Riley!" she gasped with tears of pain in her eyes. "Turn your suggestion back on, you don't-!"

"Miss Mina, he helped us!" Riley pleaded, lowering her hoodie to reveal all her features after dropping the psychic suggestion that she had been emanating since she got to Lost Haven. "If Mr. Hoxton is brave enough to protect us, we should not be keeping him out of light."

"It's...k-keeping him in the dark, Riley," Mina stuttered, unable to find a decent counterargument besides correcting her tenuous grasp on English. Riley simply gave a pointed nod and turned back to look at Hoxton, who was of course still very shocked and confused about what all of this meant. Underneath that though, Riley could feel the concern that he had shown for their safety. She didn't know where it came from, but it was genuine and it told her that she could trust this man to know the truth.

"Mr. Hoxton," she began in her usual lighthearted tone, though it was tempered ever so slightly by caution. "I am... well, I am not human like you or Miss Mina. I was a lab experiment made by a very bad man, and we are escaping from the people who created me."

There was, again, a palpable silence as Hoxton stood there, thinking hard. Riley could sense the cogs turning in his head over all of this as she hoped against hope that she did the right thing by telling him this. Finally, Hoxton dropped back onto the couch with a defeated thud, running a hand through his short brown hair.

"Well that explains all the hush-hush about this operation," Hoxton said, sounding exhausted like he had just finished a marathon. "Bloody hell...are you some kind of alien or-?"

"Half-alien," Mina said bluntly. "Riley's a hybrid of human and alien genetics, to put it as simply as I possibly can."

"Well that explains the powers. Fuck me, I thought you got those abilities from a lab accident or something," Hoxton muttered towards the ceiling as he leaned back in the sofa.

"I-I understand if you do not want to help..."

"Did I say I wanted out?" Hoxton retorted, almost sounding offended at the suggestion. "Bugger that! I didn’t come down with the last shower, miss. I've been with this company for a good year now and I've seen a lot of weird things like you around this city in that time. No offense, of course."

"None taken," Riley said, somewhat relieved that he seemed to be taking all of this in good spirit. "So can we trust you and the other people in Arbalest with knowing this?" Riley already knew the answer of course, but she was hoping that Hoxton would say it aloud for Mina's sake.

"Trust is how we work here at Arbalest," Hoxton replied with a cocky grin. "That's how we keep people safe. Gotta hang together or we'll all hang separately, that's the saying isn't it?"

"I wouldn't know, I DID come down with the last shower." Riley said with rather silly grin. Mina gave a slight giggle at the attempted joke while Hoxton smiled appreciatively. Riley really didn't know exactly what the phrase about the hanging meant, but she got the general meaning behind it. They had to trust one another. Riley liked that thought. It was comforting knowing that there would be someone by your side that you could trust, someone to help you through the bad times. Like how Mina rescued Riley from Darrow. Or how Riley saved that man from those bad people earlier.

"It's getting late," Mina commented with a stifled yawn, checking her phone on the table. "I think I need to get to bed before I pass out. Again." Riley sheepishly looked away.

"Yeah, I need to let Smokey know that we're all holed up here anyway," Hoxton said, getting to his feet and straightening out the lapels on his suit. "There's a room set up for you two down the hall, three doors to the left."

"Can I look at the television instead?" Riley asked earnestly. "I am not all that tired, Mina says it is because I do not need to sleep as often as other people do."

"Mental powers, teleportation, AND you don't need to sleep? Where were you when we needed a night guard a week ago?" Hoxton said with an appreciative laugh. "Sure, go ahead and watch what you want. Just keep it quiet, Sokol gets cranky if you wake him up and his hockey game isn't on." Riley looked over at "Sokol", the young man who was still resting peacefully in front of the blinking white screen, and gave a curt little nod.

"I will be quiet as a...thing that is quiet!" Riley exclaimed softly.

"Church mouse works fine, use that," Hoxton suggested with a laugh. "Alright then, you two get comfortable, I'll be back shortly to stand guard." As Hoxton left to make his phone call, Riley found her attention drawn to the television that "Sokol" had been watching, wondering what this hockey thing that he mentioned was. She was just about to crawl over the back of the couch to get to the television before Mina made a slight coughing noise to get her attention.

"Miss Mina?" Riley said, kneeling with one leg awkwardly draped over the back of the couch. Mina looked back at her, unsure of whether to keep frowning or crack a smile at the amusing position that she was in. Opening and closing her mouth a few times as she pondered her words, Mina gave an exasperated sigh and started small.

"H-hell of a day, wasn't it?"

"Oh yes, it was a very hell day," Riley mused. "But we got here safely, so I guess things turned out well enough, even if I almost got us caught."

"Funny you mentioned that, actually," Mina began, anxiously rubbing her left forearm with her right hand. "I wanted to...talk to you about what you did earlier..."

"I am still deeply sorry for what I did," Riley said, instinctively diving into an apology at the mention of her heroics earlier. "I know that we are trying to go into hiding, so I promise I will make every effort to-"

"No no, stop apologizing, please," Mina interrupted her. "I don't want you to say you're sorry for what you did back there."

Riley blinked, perplexed by her request. "But Miss Mina, if I was caught-"

"I'm not talking about, uh, exposing yourself and risking us getting found by Darrow, Riley," Mina explained, struggling to place each word correctly. "I, er, mean what you went away to do. You know...you know how said you saved someone from being hurt, right?"

"Uh huh, there were bad men that were going to hurt someone, and I stopped them. Why?"

"Well...oh why is this so hard to explain," Mina said with exasperation, trying to rub the sleepiness from her eyes. Riley stood up from the sofa, closed her eyes, then reopened them. Mina gave a slight start at the sight of the purple light emanating from them, something she never quite got used to.

"You do not want me to think that saving that man was the wrong thing to do." Riley stated, the light dying down in her eyes as she finished her 'read'. Mina smiled, thankful that her half-alien experiment...no, her half-alien friend...had the ability to understand her in a way most other people couldn't. It made it easier when she stumbled and couldn't find the right words to say. "But...I do no understand," Riley continued, sound a bit lost. "We were supposed to be hiding, did I not endanger our lives when I-"

"Riley, forget about the fact that a big scary corporation might be coming after us for just ONE second!" Mina said in exasperation, grabbing hold of both of Riley's shoulders as she spoke. "Do you remember WHY you went to help that man?" Riley paused, thinking back to how she felt when she was in the car, how she felt the fear of the city pressing in on her, how when she felt that man's desperate plea for help, she couldn't stand idly by anymore.

"H-he was scared," Riley finally recalled. "I wanted to help him. To save him, just like...I saved you."

Mina gently pulled Riley into a hug so she would notice the tears welling in her eyes. "R-Riley, this world that you got thrown into...it can be a scary place, sometimes. There will be bad people out there, and bad things that will happen to good people, and sometimes it's not easy to make the right choices. But this big scary world needs people like you, Riley. People who look at the clouds and fight to see the sun again."

"Is...is that a metaphor?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Mina chuckled, pulling apart from Riley and looking at her with kindness twinkling in her eyes. "What I'm trying to say is... don't ever let this world change who you are. No matter what anyone in this crazy, messed-up place we call home says, follow your heart and fight for what you believe in. In short, just...don't ever stop being Riley, okay?"

Riley nodded, giving her biggest smile yet. "I'll do the best I can, Miss Mina!"

"I never had any doubt about that," Mina said, stifling another yawn. "Well, I'd better get to bed now. Maybe tomorrow we can talk about what to do when Jordan finally gets here. G'night Riley."

And with another quick hug, Mina Seidel vanished into the back room to retire for the evening, leaving Riley with a lot more to think about then that weird game Sokol was watching. Don't ever stop being Riley, Mina had said. But what made her Riley, exactly? She wanted nothing more then to help other people, but what did that make her? What WAS Riley?

Then it hit her. Riley's eyes lit up in glee as the answer came to her in a in a spark of brilliance. Words echoed through her head, not her own or Mina's but the words of a young man, bruised and bloodied, lying in an alleyway after he was saved by the strange girl with the glowing purple eyes.

"You're...you're one of them, aren't you? One of the superheroes."

Riley's eyes were drawn east, to where the sun would appear from behind the horizon the next day, piercing through the clouds. She clenched her fist in determination as she followed her heart and made her fateful decision.

"Yes...I am a superhero!"
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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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Icon watched as the “team” that Christopher Arthur was on the verge of falling apart before they even set out to end the crisis which was facing the entire world. One of the speedster twins, Boom, looked to be about ready to throw down right there in the middle of the headquarters with War-Pulse, who had just admitted to having played a part in attempting to poison the Lost Haven water supply. And though Icon agreed with Boom in principle, now was not the time for this.

On top of that, Arthur and the three young metas from Albany were cracking jokes about the name of the terrorist leader. As Icon looked around the room, he didn’t need his enhanced vision to see that the majority of the group was getting anxious. Then the tension in the room was momentarily lifted when yet another young woman entered the fray. She looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, and as she entered she announced that she Boom had sent her.

Naturally, Arthur made a joke about the girl being a 12 year old, which set her off on a bit of a tirade of her own.

You think your day is bad!” Eva shouted out, due to his rudeness although she probably wasn’t someone they’d expected to show up. “I was told this was a meeting of Heroes, like Icon over there. Not a Fetish Club meetup. I’m half expecting someone to break out the ball gag and latex. Uh. You’re not doing that, are you?”

Somewhat still embarrassed by her outburst she continued. “Look, I may not be Icon, and I may be younger than most of you. But I have a magic sword that can cut through practically anything.”

While Icon found the outburst amusing, he did everything he could to not let it show. This group was facing something that none of them had ever seen the likes of before, and they proved with each moment that passed, that they were just not ready for this… at least not in their present state.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Icon said, hoping to reign the situation in a bit. “I’m not sure if you understand the stakes we’re facing, but we need to get serious and get our act together, otherwise none of this will matter. So, maybe we should stop cracking jokes and fighting amongst ourselves, and figure out a plan to stop Pax Metahuman and bring down those domes. Or have you all forgotten what we’re supposed to be fighting for? There are people out there who’s lives are in danger, and we owe it to them to get out there and put this threat down, once and for all.”

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