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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

“Um...yes, I do think my day has been way worse than yours. There is a worldwide hysteria over these metahuman domes, many of which were caused by devices that we did not know until just a few hours ago. Dealing with this is way more stressful than walking into a ‘Fetish Club meeting’, especially since this isn’t that.”

Before he could respond to the newcomer thinking that she was a ‘big girl’ now because she had some sort of ‘magical’ sword, Icon cut in, obviously in an attempt to get everyone back on track.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Icon said. “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 whose lives are in danger, and we owe it to them to get out there and put this threat down, once and for all.”

Chris was about ready to argue that he had suggested a few minutes ago, before Boom stormed out of the tower, almost the exact same thing as Icon had just mentioned now. However, before he could say anything, he realized that doing so would not help anything. It would possibly just lead to another argument or something. And Chris assumed you didn’t want to be in an argument with Icon. Therefore, he decided on a different course of action.

“Icon is right. We can’t be fighting each other all night. Therefore, let’s get back to work.”

Chris then turned back to his projector device, which was displaying a map of the abandoned complex that Doctor Diplodoc and his allies called home. “Team One will include Icon, War-Pulse, Lyger, Thunderbolt, Radiance, and the White Witch. Remember that your goal is distract their group of metahumans. If you happen to beat them before Team Two captures the doctor himself, rendezvous with them.”

“Team Two will be lead by Vigilante and will include Raptor, Wasp, Bast, Arachne, and whoever this newcomer is. We have an old set of schematics for the building and an overview of our opponents on that electronic whiteboard. So, any questions before we begin?"
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by fdeviant
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fdeviant Witch o' the Wood

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Sherman Center
Lost Haven
_____________________


Marie shifted uncomfortably as more people began to pile into the room, well, one more person, a young girl sporting a hoodie and bragging about a magical sword. Then began the fighting. A few nasty words back and forth, followed by raised voices and half-baked threats and attempts at sounding heroic. It was all too much for Marie, who jumped at every instance of shouting and rolled her eyes at some of the cliched lines. She expected a room full of superheros to be a display of leadership and a vision of grandeur, but instead it was petty arguing and mismatched colors. It was then that Chris took over, giving everyone their assignments.

“Team One will include Icon, War-Pulse, Lyger, Thunderbolt, Radiance, and the White Witch. Remember that your goal is distract their group of metahumans. If you happen to beat them before Team Two captures the doctor himself, rendezvous with them. Team Two will be lead by Vigilante and will include Raptor, Wasp, Bast, Arachne, and whoever this newcomer is. We have an old set of schematics for the building and an overview of our opponents on that electronic whiteboard. So, any questions before we begin?"

Marie went still for a moment. She could never have imagined that she’d be working with the likes of Icon. She was by no means an Icon fangirl, but she couldn’t help but squeal internally at the thought of it. After a few moments of this, she regained control of herself, brought her head up, and looked forward. She was confident that she could perform above everyone’s standards and make a name for herself. All that stood in her way was a freaky doctor with a strange name and a band of villains who didn’t stand a chance against her magic.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Hound55
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Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!

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Chris then turned back to his projector device, which was displaying a map of the abandoned complex that Doctor Diplodoc and his allies called home. “Team One will include Icon, War-Pulse, Lyger, Thunderbolt, Radiance, and the White Witch. Remember that your goal is distract their group of metahumans. If you happen to beat them before Team Two captures the doctor himself, rendezvous with them.”

“Team Two will be lead by Vigilante and will include Raptor, Wasp, Bast, Arachne, and whoever this newcomer is. We have an old set of schematics for the building and an overview of our opponents on that electronic whiteboard. So, any questions before we begin?"







Isaac Looked around at the characters in his team and sighed deeply and audibly through his voice modulator. He pinched at his mask at the bridge of his nose, as he often did in moments of frustration and added his two cents… as he was often want to do.

“As thrilled as I am that you’re leaving me in charge of the kids table, I’m gonna have to raise an objection…”

“Whatsisname…” he shook his hand gesturing toward War-Pulse “…Effigy. You’ve got a guy who can replicate the powers and form of pretty much anyone he tangles with and as far as I can tell you’ve loaded up the team to deal with these types with our biggest guns. I don’t want Icon… or for that matter Zippy and Bippy here…” he gestured at the speedsters, “…getting anywhere near that guy.”

“So here’s what I suggest... We’ve got ourselves speedsters. Why don’t we use them? I weigh about 77 kil—“ he checked himself, remembering they use the imperial measurement in this country, “170 pounds. We get my team in position, this big fella over here jets me in to take down that one guy.” The Vigilante pointed at Thunderbolt. “Shouldn’t take me more than 5 or 10 minutes. You start on the other 3, he runs me back to Team Menagerie and then returns to the fray with your mob, and whaddaya know after this is all sorted out we’re not going to have a guy in lock-up who can turn into somebody who can benchpress a building or outrun a fighter jet.”

“Because at the moment, best case scenario, all I can see happening is 2 War-Pulses smacking the hell out of each other and doing untold collateral damage.”
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Fallenreaper
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Fallenreaper ღ~Lil' Emotional Cocktail~ღ

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Jacqueline Freeman

&

Location: Financial District, Gene Co. within the branch office
Timeline: Two days ago from present, Evening


The day had ended just like any other for Jacqueline Freeman, her mind focused on running the Lost Haven branch as smoothly as possible. At this point her feet slightly ached through she pushed the pain out of her mind and from her focus, easing the hurt to a minimum. Sometimes it was much more effective than aspirin she took hours earlier while she walked from end of the building to the other, her feet rarely stopped for a break in order to keep others on task and focused.

Mentally, she was relieved when the day finally reached its end and she could cease this pointless wandering in order to get some serious work done. Her hips were swaying in her usual, business like gait when her eyes lowered down to graze over the reports in her possession while she navigated the hallways to her office. It was propped half way open and she skimmed lightly over the monthly budget for the company with a scrutinizing gaze, her lips curled up in a frown over what she was reading. Numbers in the review were filed in her memory, each digit recording was double checked with surprising ease and distastefully were fond accurate. Meanwhile she wove through several employees escaping from their offices to cubicles and back to their homes after a long day. She, however, wouldn’t be returning until around midnight and was among the few that remained within the building long after it was closed. It was a result of her work-alcoholic habits and slight niteowl tendencies which allowed her to retain her expensive lifestyle, a price well paid in her opinion to keep a firm rein over her ownership. This also made it much easier to accomplish the more shady tasks based around the black branch project when any security risk was away at home eating their dinner and resting for the night.

Her fingers snapped the manilla folder shut when she came to her office door, her hand reached out to grip the cold handle and enter the supposedly empty office. There was only issue: it wasn’t empty.

Jacqueline’s steel grey eyes narrowed on the man standing within her private office, her mind never recalling anything from Ms. Gibbs about an unscheduled meeting, then edged slowly into the room.

The room itself was a spacious and rectangle area. One side was lined by windows, their blinds raised upward and tucked away, which overlooked the city nightlife buzzing with its unique electrical lightshow. Through none of the noise seemed to pollute the comfortable looking office after her money spent in sound proofing the entire room. Against the back wall was her usual work space, from her computer and long oak desk to a bookshelf crammed with numerous books, many that fitted her needs well during the rare issue she had come across. There was numerous papers stacked upon one side of her desk beside her computer which was bouncing around the company logo for a screen saver.

Bracing herself with a sharp inhale and tucking her earlier distract under her arm, Gene Co’s CEO firmly addressed the darkened figure, his image shrouded by the dim lighting. “I’m sorry to inform you, I wasn’t informed of any private meeting. If you would be so kind to leave and reschedule with my secretary, I’ll see if I can work in a space during my very busy day.”

“Oh, I believe much to the contrary, Miss Freeman,” Came a smooth, velvety voice from the shadows, a voice that Jacqueline was more than familiar with. “With what I have to say, I believe you’ll be able to squeeze me into you schedule.”

The shadow in question shifted in his seat, propping himself up with an elbow on the armrest as he layered one leg over the other, seemingly undaunted by her stoicism. The light from the windows were cold and barely illuminating from the street lamps and neon lights outside, but they showed all they needed to as the man’s head leaned into view. While only partially exposing his shoulder and part of his face, it was clear that the man in question was wearing an expensive, well-tailored suit of fine dark grey cashmere, complemented by a hood custom woven into the suit’s design and a mask covering the man’s face. In the entire city of Lost Heaven, Jacqueline would know only one man to wear such a signature attire. The infamous kingpin, The Cowl, had made a visit to the CEO’s office.

“Besides, if I tried to set things up with your secretary legitimately I don’t think she’d believe me if I told her who I am.” The Cowl joked, his eyes never leaving the businesswoman as she came into the office. “Did you know some people still think I’m just a myth? A bogeyman to scare the people of Lost Haven into staying off the streets at night? With things like that dreadful shadow-monster and this whole ‘Pax Metahumana’ thing, you’d think people wouldn’t worry about some crime-boss…” He chuckled, waving the thought off with a free hand before continuing. “But I digress. I’m here for something that I’ve recently picked up from a few scouts I’ve had prowling the streets, namely some disturbing tidbits that may cause you some concern.”

Jacqueline head tilted, her eyes narrowed in faint question over why he was here. It wasn’t often he arranged a meeting for himself due to the inconvenience it created and security risk it developed so she logically understood it was a serious matter. She straightened her figure as she glided over to the dimly lit desk and softly plop her earlier distraction upon the growing stack. Her figure twisted about and propped against the edge while her legs crossed at the ankles, her voice in a sincere, apologetic tone.

“My apologies, Mr. Cowl, the light obstructed your image. Had I known who I was addressing, I would’ve been far more respectful and not assumed you were another unwelcomed guest trying to press for my attention.”

“Oh, think nothing of it.” The Crime Boss said, his chipper tone and slight nod of his head towards her implied that he was more amused than angry at her actions, a small snicker passing through his mask in an attempt to ease the early tension in the air. “You are a powerful businesswoman with a multi-billion dollar company underneath you, I wouldn’t expect someone with that kind of reputation to welcome anyone into their office without a scheduled dinner date first.”

Jacqueline allowed a flicker of a smile to display on her lips, the man’s chuckle working its charm to ease the tension and her figure relaxing slightly from its rigid posture. A rarity in this business. Casually her hands folded into each other, the fingers intertwined, while they rested at her front and in full view of the man. She was naturally unarmed by any hidden weapons or tricks she had seen less savory business associates apply, tactics she felt were wasteful and managed to leave a messier situation when things failed to pan out. Then again, she was in her element so what was the point in apply such brutality? “Never figured out your trick to how you could always lighten a room’s mood, through I have suspicions it’s part of your skill and charm.” Jacqueline said, her tone more complimentary than flirting, through it was cutting pretty close near the line on purpose as she continued. ”Would you like anything to drink before we continue? Most of my staff is out, but I do keep a private stock for my own use during the late hour.”

When the last words fell from her lips, she leaned and waited. Inwardly, she was quietly gauging the possibilities and determining her alliance state with the man. Depending on his actions it would state the depth of the issues he discussed and how badly the cost to mend it after the ‘disturbing tidbits’ he felt were important enough to pay a nightly business meeting for.

The Cowl paused, shifting in his seat as he considered the offer. “Mmm, as much as I do crave a drink, trying to move the mask to drink would get a bit troublesome, and I’d rather not humiliate myself with that display.” He added with another chuckle. “Besides, I’d rather get right to business, as the longer I am here the longer it jeopardizes both you and myself.”

Jacqueline’s head gently nodded, her eyes averted from letting that disappointment glow in them, while she leaned back more against the desk. Part of her considered taking a seat, but her attention denied taking that action immediately when her associate began on the topic which brought him here. She was at least relieved this situation could be salvageable compared to other business avenues and relaxed in her posture, giving the man her full attention.

The Cowl’s gazed out the window, momentarily catching a glimpse of the city skyline before drifting back to Jacqueline as he spoke. “A few months back, we had an agreement; I smuggle in a handful of illicit genetic materials and equipment, and you grant me some superpowered enforcers using a viral agent you procured from means rather unknown to me. The only issue was that you only delivered on half of them and the results were sub-par. For every flawless soldier I had about two failures who had to wear a gas filtration system to keep their body chemistry balanced out, which cost almost as much as the soldiers, by the way.”

Jacqueline understood, and to a point empathized about the cost being expensive when using less than higher quality product, her arms pulled up to fold in front of her chest. Her mind recalled the deal very vividly in her mind as it was one of the few times in her life she was nervous and not confident in her ability to gain what she needed. The Cowl’s reputation, when you dug into the underworld, wasn’t a light matter so to treat it as such was foolish and more likely to get her killed, a matter that wouldn’t do for her future to make Lost Haven a better place.

She didn’t comment on the mention of failures. Through the reports returned to her were far higher than her test labs predicted or gained in their laboratory tests, a matter she wasn’t pleased with in the less. This was why these ‘street’ tests were necessary after because there was no accurate way to reproduce a stressful and unpredictable environment to establish the serum’s limits. The labs were too much of a controlled space compared to the outside world, her eyes still fixed on the man within his seat.

As he spoke, his hand went to a dossier he had been keeping wedged into the cushions of his seat, flipping through them momentarily before standing to his feet. “Though you did not tell me much about the process utilized to create such superhumans, I had a few of my Sawbones and genetics specialists in the underground take a look at the serums and dig up what I could for myself. From what I could procure from medical reports, the soldiers all had muscular, and respiratory enhancements, along with a neural stimulant to process the excess mass. However, the neural stimulant was flawed, it needed some kind of viral agent to perfect it, along with something to influence the process of adrenaline production, and there was not enough calcium supplement to support the increased mass, or at least not a perfected method. From what I was able to gather, there is a final ingredient that never made it to the production line, a missing piece to the full puzzle.”

Jacqueline’s memory went over the SES lineage the Cowl was given for the riots. SES 006, the earliest line was dated just within the first few weeks before they acquired the alien virus and lacked the ‘final’ ingredient that the crime lord had deduced was absent so easily. However it wasn’t because it never made it to the final product line but rather it didn’t exist yet.

Despite the incorrect deduction, the man had impressed her with his resources and baseline understanding of genetics. Her expression had altered to an attentive, listening one where she was absorbed into every work, nothing giving away how close he was to the truth, while she waited for him to finish.

He glanced at her, a disappointed sigh escaping his lips as he continued, “Of course, that was something I agreed to when the deal was proposed. You told me from the get-go that these soldiers would be experimental and were prone to overload, and I agreed anyway. Who could say no to superhuman guards, after all?”

“Which was part of the reason we requested recorded data, blood samples, and more over the subject you gave the serums to. In order to see where we went wrong and how to fix it. Getting stressful environment results from a lab is rather limited because one can’t fully predict or account for every single combination a supplier’s employees can experience without several field tests.” Jaqueline paused to take a breath between her explanation, her hand reached back to readjust the ponytail tied up at her head back, “Unfortunately, the government wouldn’t allow us to test such products publicly yet they still make the demand, expecting the best results. It’s like going from point A to point E without the other letters involved at all. Something impossible in genetic experimentation even with my basic understanding.”

His attitude was momentarily regretful, his body slumped at the thought of the many men who had become genetic failures now forced to live on oxygen packets and chemical suppressants to keep their enhanced bodies from going into shock. However the thought quickly seemed to pass as the crime lord returned to his signature casual self while he handed the dossier over, the symbol of the Lost Haven Police Department clearly stamped on the file in red ink.

Jacqueline’s arm reached out to take the dossier from the man then flipped it open, her eyes examining the contents thoroughly as she listened.

“However, it comes to me now that when you told me that the process wasn’t perfected was not because it was still in its experimentation process, but because you were missing the final ingredient. The human mind, while impressive, is not able to immediately take on enhancements of the body, it needs something secondary, a different mind to manage other superhuman feats, like a virus of some sort, which would perhaps provide this bone structure, mental capacity, and other superhuman qualities to perfect these soldiers you were sending me.” He gestured to the dossier. “A viral agent that matched the deceased in this file. A Mrs. Desdemona, elderly old woman found dead in her home. Normally I don’t find myself looking into the dead, but a friend from the Lost Haven crime lab smuggled out a little gift that I had time to analyze, and subsequently is the whole reason I’m here.”

As he spoke, he reached into his jacket pocket, fishing around for a second before pulling a vial from his blazer. The liquid was viscous and thick, like blood, only its color did not match. The color was a putrid black, with small splashes of red still inside.

If Jacqueline had allowed herself to peel back her sober poker face, now looking up from her reading, the shock and clear desire would’ve been seen instantly when the Cowl pulled out the vial. Her fingers tightened their grip briefly against the dossier as the only tell his display had any meaning to her, her hands quietly and through sheer will forced herself to close the fold calmly. She then placed the file upon the desktop for the present moment before she pushed off the desk and approached the man, her eyes studying the vial in his gloved hand.

There was little doubt in her mind that the blood was infected by the alien virus, even in the dim light, when he first showed it. After viewing the continual video feeds for months over the subject’s reaction and the several death reports from bizarre cases, she didn’t need to know this. Several leads since the virus’ disappearance had been dead ends resulting in irritation and frustration. At least, until a few had the began to show the small bread crumb trail the entity has left behind for her company then abruptly vanished again.

Unknown to the Cowl, at least she suspected, the very woman’s physician, Dr. Morgan, had came in recently with the same suspicion. The only difference was that the Cowl was brilliant enough to put the puzzle pieces together causing Jacqueline some concerns about how he might use this to his advantage. He would bring Gene Co to ruins or use it to better his contract, costing her more money than he was worth? She hoped he was as sensible as his image portrayed, her mind hoping for a sensible outcome to benefit them both.

“I had this analyzed and found the traces in this blood matched some core elements to your super soldier serum. It was lacking the enhancement side, but what was in there was powerful, with hints of sentience that could provide mental commands to its whole body like a hive mind rather than an electrical stimulus.” He held it towards her, awaiting her to accept it. ”Now tell me, Miss Freeman, what can you tell me of this little coincidence?”

Jacqueline’s hand clasped over the vial a bit harder than she intended, gently pulling it from his grasp when he allowed it. She took a moment to hold it to the light and examine it, her hands shifting the contains from one end to the other with squinting eyes. No light caught it through the blood hissed slightly causing her jerk it away rapidly back into the darkness. It was clearly the virus’ work through she already knew that, her voice turned to address his questions and accusations properly.

“Before I go into depth explaining, I must say first that genetics, Mr. Cowl, is a little more complicate than that. The mental aspect is an extreme element for the three stage of the process, but not the primary one over all. Second, did you happen to keep a data collection over the sample you tested? I’m sure it was… difficult due to its odd nature.” The CEO hinted to her extensive knowledge about the virus and confirmed indirectly she knew exactly what it was. Her heels were walking to a small, hidden vault just on the other side of her desk with a steady gait. The vault itself appeared to be state of the art, though it wasn’t manufactured completely by Midas Industries and only had parts registered to them. The genetic lock required her eye scanned and a warm, living blood print to open it.

“Of course,” The Cowl replied, following her with a leisurely stride as they made their way to the vault. “I can have those over to you with my next shipment.”

”Excellent,”Jacqueline stated in pleased tone.

She continued to talk, her legs paused and hunched down to level with the retinal scanner before she pressed her finger into the slot, feeling the little needle draw a dot of blood for analysis. It was softly humming and breaking the sample apart into its basic components and cross matching it to her own regularly updated file.

“The series you’re referring was an early product in the SES line so the element you correctly realized to be missing was in fact never discovered until the 008 series trials. So any serum dating from the 007 and back would lack that element.” Jacqueline said, her arms paused to think a moment and continued. “ I believe we only gave you the 006 trials in your shipments since the other products were too hostile to risk and had much worse results compared to the data we collected from your users. Through I will admit, your data results and our lab test clash extremely with our earlier expectations and past results.”

”From what I’ve gathered, field testing and lab testing are two entirely different methods.” The Cowl mused, his hands lightly drifting to his pockets as he rocked lightly on his heels. “You can make the best gun in the world in a controlled scenario, but it doesn’t mean anything unless you can reliably put a bullet between a man’s eyes in any situation. Then again, I suppose I’m the second half of your testing schedule, aren’t I? A way to really explore what your serum can do in an uncontrolled environment?”

” Naturally, through you also get the benefits as well if things go right. A business risk we all take and sometimes it doesn’t pay off in the way we expect.” Jacqueline opened the vault and picked the smaller and thinner of the top folders her body rising back upright then made her way back to Mr. Cowl. Purposely leaving the door open, she handed the slim information over the SES project 006 and 035 series from the Black Branch. “The SES series 035 line also has the same issues if you’ve not already examined them as well, but for a different reason: the asset in question managed to become an unexpected, free roaming one. So you were correct, but you’ve jumped too early to the correct assumption.”

“I’d prefer to think of it as ‘thinking three steps ahead’.” The Cowl rebutted, taking the folder from her hands in a smooth, gentle movement before turning away from her as he began to thumb through the papers. He still stayed close to her, ready to point out anything he found within the folders that needed clarification as he slowly paced in her proximity.

“Indeed. That being said, it’s little surprise you discovered similarities between Ms. Desdemona’s blood and our serum because both were affected by the same exact source. Right now, as you’ll realize, we’ve failed to acquire it since it hasn’t attached itself to a host without later killing them.” Her hand retracted when Cowl took the file to examine and stayed on the topic of the virus, willfully going into depth over the benefits should the virus be recaptured. ”The best way to describe the virus, in theory, is a rapid variety of evolution itself. If we could recapture it then we could possibly alter the very issues with the prior serums and even create better ones, eliminating those issues you’re having much sooner. Even possibly reverse those unfortunate men’s conditions and ease their symptoms into allowing them to live a semi-normal life.”

When he took the file, she then added a little more. “In that file is a flash drive with about one to two videos, each detailing different subjects on the source. They are the last victims we knew who had become hosts to the viral source you rightfully assumed was the aid in our genetic experiments. It helped us to locate and splice animal traits into humans when its code was finally cracked and put into the serums in control quantities, though the mental aspect did prove to be an issue.”

Cowl had been silent as Jacqueline had been talking, his eyes focused on the folder as he slowly flipped each page, diving into each page with monk-like attention as she continued. He was passing through papers rather quickly, but there was no indication that he missed any detail, he never went back to the previous page, he never bothered to ask for clarification, he simply read in silence. It was a rare thing to catch his attention for so long, it was even rarer to see the gears in his mind turning, a cavalcade of calculation, cunning, and planning all emoted in the intensity of his eyes. Two pools of hazel furiously processing the information granted to him, what she said, what she gave him, it did not take long for him to start piecing the puzzle together.

“Well, any viral agent in this city is going to go relatively unnoticed due to the whole scare this Pax Metahumana crisis is causing, so this is the perfect time for us to spread a wide scale search for anything resembling this without any eyes on us.” The Cowl said, his gaze turning upon her as his free hand gestured while he spoke. “But, if I were going to start looking for something like a viral infection, I’d go to her house. I can send some of my men there to gather what they can, maybe the virus is still located in her home.”

”Indeed. Through it might be a pointless task and wasting resources would merely hurt us both.” Jacqueline stated, her eyes fixed on Cowl as part of the reason they weren’t able to collect any data from that end and repaying her for the SES failure. The humor was a tasteless in her mind but she didn’t further press or hint her point, her figure moved back to press herself back to the desk. “It seems the most recent victim was mysteriously delivered to the CDC during the riots days ago and a call was made to Gene Co over there being a contagion, our teams, despite the chaos, were prompt in their reply to the call. There’s only a few individuals, one sticks out as a adept expert over the virus’ movements, who are familiar with what happened at the lab to able to know the urgency over getting our team over there. Regrettably, he no longer works for Black Dog according to my knowledge.”

Jacqueline breathed as she settled against the hard edge, her arms leaned against and propping her upright. She casually picked up a small, laminated card with the logo then offered it to the man.“ It’s a company we use as security for many of our special projects and their moral flexibility is ideal, a possible option to check into. I prefer not to ruffle any of the company’s feathers by trying to convince the man to help since the current owner is good acquaintance of mine.”

“Oh, you wound me Jacqueline.” He sarcastically griped, his fingers lightly following the lines of text on the papers. “And here I thought the Shroud was your only employee for such discrepancies.”

“Come now, Mr. Cowl, please don’t be anxious about your value with us. However, I highly doubt it’s only the drugs you’re selling or using. Keep in mind, our contract might be binding but I’m sure you’ve noted the loopholes concerning drugs sells.” Jacqueline countered and returned the card on the desk top, her mind knowing the truth about business. If the Shroud was the only source she used for the Black Project Branch, her profits upon selling the SES series to them wouldn’t been as profitable. “Namely that there is nothing in the contract stating you’re only required sell, buy and use drugs or products from Gene Co. As a businessman, I’m sure you know it’s often ill-advised and costly to get all your products from one source after all..”

He snapped the folder shut, motioning to the folder he provided Jacqueline when he arrived while getting back to the main topic of their conversation. “That being said, there is the possibility that this...evolutionary virus...was given to her from someone she knew. I’d suggest we also take a look at her friends and family, see who she knew and see who isn’t around anymore, then we can follow up and see if there isn’t a human out there with a viral hitchhiker plastered to them.”

“So of that was already taken care of. The woman’s body was taken out of Dr. Morgan’s, her physician, care and sent to a crematory nearly two weeks ago. The body was burned to ashes and according to the doctor, her primary caretaker was her granddaughter, Racheli Desdemona. However, despite being given samples, we can’t confirm for certainty the current infected in the CDC is her or another individual without visual or other identification means. The virus has already eliminated markers such as blood type, key genetic readings and more from the blood samples we managed to receive.”

At the mention of the CDC, the Cowl seemed to perk up, a laugh once more left the crime lord as he exchanged a glance with Jacqueline. “Well, it seems we are in luck, then. I already had heard that the CDC had retrieved something big during the night of the raids. Being the resourceful businessman that I am, I was already preparing someone to take a look at what they had, thinking there may be money in whatever they picked up. If the CDC picked up the young Ms. Desdemona, perhaps my hypothesis is true and she is the one holding your last ingredient, hence we take down two birds with one stone and get back in business. As for the good doctor and his reports, I can see if he’s willing to part with his findings, and if not, I’m sure we can find ways to convince him.”

Jacqueline blinked a moment, suspicious over the sudden chuckle then relax at his explanation. Her body leaned more into the desk edge while she thought carefully over her options.

“It’s not Dr. Morgan that’s not cooperation, but the recent expert the CDC brought on. A professor from the University here in Lost Haven and he’s completely shut us out. Originally, when they brought in the victim, we gained blood samples for analyzing. That was stopped before we could gain any more useful information and all untested samples were required to be returned with data included, no exception.” Jacqueline stated, hoping to redirect the Cowl’s attention from a cooperative source to a thorn in her side. “I only managed to learn about his name, a Dr. Cole, and an authority over biomechanics. He was brought in shortly after the subject was.”

He tucked the folder neatly under his arm, casually ambling back into the main room from Jacqueline’s secret vault. “Of course, this conversation tends to bring up the most important part of our little partnership…” He swirled on a heel, leaning on her desk as he gestured to her with a free hand. “With these new developments constantly invoking new outlets, I do believe it may be time to re-negotiate some details in our contract. Not to say I don’t believe we are on the same page about keeping both of our heads above water, but what am I exactly promised out of all this? I’d hate for all this work to be done only to find my organization severely undercompensated for life-threatening events.”

Jacqueline knew this next step was going to reveal itself, it never failed, as the Cowl turned on heel and addressed it promptly. She inhaled then paused for thought over the risk of trusting the man. “Well, us getting the virus would limit possible damages you’ve suffered by a considerable amount when dealing with the SES series in the future. We can also fix those damaged individuals from prior experiments, including the 006-8 series products, back to a stable health. There are no promises they will be able to be exactly as they were before. In addition, you recall when I stated we were peddling our low marketed SES products? It can be arranged to allow you access to higher quality SES that we’ve not yet introduced to the streets.”

She paused for a moment, shuffling toward the folders on the desk then selected two different folders that were colored. One blue and the other black, her hand passed them both off to the Cowl’s reach to see his reaction. “The blue folder holds the information over the SES 31 series, a different strain than you’ve been currently handling which takes several animal traits and combines them into one individual. Speed, strength, agility, and even specialized tactical abilities have been known to surface. The black is the current subject I’m willing to loan to you free of charge and for a reasonable time period. His serial number is 31-023, but he goes by the name of Tristan Abel. He’s well seasoned with his abilities and there’s little risk in him falling to the same issues as your men.”

Jacqueline waited to see how much farther she would have to go or if this would be enough.

“Well, as great as a batch of superhuman enforcers eventually might be, that’s unfortunately not what I’m asking for. Mr. Abel is more than likely a competent man and I have no doubts he’d work well with me, but I’m not exactly one who likes having help I haven’t recruited personally wandering about my facilities. I’m sure you understand that one, as I’ve had a few of my own subordinates shooed out of your company.” The Cowl replied, a deep sigh leaving his chest as he adjusted his seating. “Like Gene Co, the Shroud Syndicate is all about the profit margin, we can’t keep making investments with little to no yield.” He turned his gaze upon her, his eyes bearing the little glint of greed that signified his demands. “I need something I can compensate with for these investments, something I can sell in the underworld. While having empowered soldiers is beneficial for security, said security is not going to compensate for the resources I’m spending in order to gather information. I’m asking for a slight increase of negligence on your part so that I may peddle some product and provide for my workforce.” He cocked his head, his eyes narrowing at her with a certain scrutiny. “That’s not too much to ask for, is it?”

“You can’t judge me for trying to get by with as little risk as possible.” Jacqueline replied, feeling her skin crawl with the Cowl’s gaze digging into her, “Unlike you, Gene Co is in the public eye and even the black branch project, if discovered, could create much scandal hurting our ability to do business. The company isn’t much good if we’re seized by the police as anything discovered of yours has a better chance of being covered.”

She pushed off the desk, hoping the increased distance might relieve her discomfort that she hid underneath. Her legs bring her back to the vault while she leaned down to close it tightly, sealing the door and hiding the secrets within. Once more, she turned to face him then addressed the issue with a more lax approached. “As for the increase of negligence, specifics are a much easier to work with in order to find a middle ground rather than vague notions. So why don’t you state what you have in mind and we’ll attempt to find area between that is suitable for both of us.”

“Oooo, I hate it when you make me be direct.” The Cowl said, rolling his eye slightly. “You know, that’s what separates you from all my other business partners. I slip them a nod, a handshake, and a generous cut, and they look the other way when I take a piece of their product to sell on the streets.” He gestured to Jacqueline as he pushed off the desk himself. “But you, no such luck. With you I have to spill everything, I swear, you are as tough and lustrous as brass sometimes.”

He gave her a casual shrug, shaking his head slightly before continuing. “I’m interested in making off with a particular cut from your medical branch, Jackie. The hospitals aren’t somewhere I like taking narcotics from because I’m actually not entirely heartless, but I do need product to keep certain parts of my business flowing, and who would have more narcotics under their belt then the number one genetics company in Lost Haven?” He gestured to her, hoping for her to catch on.

“Going to the source often saves you having to cut in the middle man. Exactly how much would have to vanish during ‘disposal’?” Jacqueline asked, ignoring the fact he had called her by a shorten version of her name. Not many individuals would’ve been so bold or lucky to get away with it, showing how deeply she respected him enough to allow the little things to slip by.

“Not much, honestly.” The Cowl said. “Barely enough to be noticed in a detailed ledger, maybe a crate each other week from your cargo ship from the docks. Think of it more like a safety deposit rather than an actual contribution. While I am more than capable of making my own money back with my own drug trade, having a little bit from a third party can make that extra few hundred thousand grand each week to make. If you’re going to place an eye in my ranks with this ‘Tristan Abel’, the least you can do is provide me with enough collateral to convince me he isn’t just your eyes and ears within my side of business.” He chuckled, placing a hand in his pocket as he spoke. “I respect you deeply, Jacqueline, but you have to know how hard it is to just trust a man I’ve never met to stand by my side.”

“That trust goes both ways. He’s also likely the only one to prove you didn’t decide to hold the virus yourself, claim it was destroyed, and enhance the SES you already have from the shipments you’ve already gotten.” Jacqueline pointed out the additional reason she wanted to put her own man on the team. She sighed then turned Cowl with a slightly soured look in her eyes when she spoke again. “He also has details over how to contain the virus to prevent your people from killing the host accidently, nulling this little agreement.”

She inhaled, then added. “For someone who knows how I work, you’re still tiptoeing around the specifics so I’ll start by mentioning I can increase the amount of narcotics by at least three crates. They will be ‘defective’ products which are much easier to get by investigations and go missing since they were destroyed of. Which is about triple rate of the earlier negotiations.”

“Hm. Alright, fine.” The Cowl said, his arms crossing in a small huff at being dragged once more into being entirely honest with her, one of the rare times anyone ever would make him speak in a straightforward manner. “Three crates will do, I would not suggest any more be traded off, as that would arise suspicion. I’m not looking to expose you for anything, just to try and compensate for the amount of work I’m about to provide to get you this virus. After all, Gene Co’s stock is going to skyrocket when you get to reveal you have the world’s first mass-produced supersoldier, and you know I’m not going to get any of that without some heat sent your way.” He chuckled. “I’ll keep it small-scale, keep the police bought off so there isn’t any interference or suspicion regarding this little assignment. In regards to your man, I’ll let you put Tristan on my payroll, but he stays within sight of me and no funny business within any of my operations. He stays at my back and does what I say. Is that acceptable?”

Jacqueline nodded, through her body moved toward her desk and reached into a drawer. She pulled out a small device, a smartphone in design, then passed it over to the Cowl. “The man has a small, nanobot tracker within his system and is unaware of it. This device is the only way to track him outside Gene Co. I suggest you not inform him or his attempt to take it out might end up killing a very expensive experiment. As for any ill nature toward you, that would only manage to hurt me rather than help. How else could we test our products without government approval?”

“Ah, that’s what I love about you, Jacqueline.” The Cowl mused, “You never let the rules get in the way of progress, truly a pioneer of business progress.” The lines in his mask creased slightly, indicating he was most likely smiling as he took the device. “It seems we have an accord. I’ll have my man in the CDC report back as soon as he comes up with anything.”

With his words, he strolled on over to the desk, his fingers lightly dragging over the papers before he plopped down in Jacqueline’s chair with a heavy thud. His eyes began to scan the office, leaning back in the chair as he took the entirety of the small office in. “You know...you can tell a lot by what a person keeps in their office...mostly what they hold dear to them and what they bother to keep with them in their path to corporate power. I’ve been in this office more times than I can count, and you know what I’ve found?”

“Enlighten me?” Jacqueline asked, her voice lessened in its business like air now that the deal was struck. She didn’t move herself from her position or become angry over the fact he had stolen her chair, her actually admiring his image sitting there for a bit. It was interesting to note what they had in common while both were self made individuals.

“You don’t keep a lot in here.” He said with a chuckle.“More appropriately, it’s the absence of items that intrigue me more than anything else. There’s no family photos in here. No significant others. There’s no silly motivational posters or letters drawn up by loved ones. Hell, there isn’t a photo of a dog or cat, not even a trophy from some long forgotten college-sport championship won. There’s nothing, not a single bit of this office is personalized, it’s kept entirely professional. From my experience, that usually means one of two things. You either have a very firm divide between your personal and professional life...or that the two are one and the same. I’ve never bothered to ask, but which one of those resonates with you more?”

Jacqueline found herself amused, considering the fact. Her figure wandered over to the windows overseeing the night life, her eyes studying the busy streets and hazy light casting their electric glow. “Recently, I’ve not found much time for personal time in my life, so I believe at this point the lines are blurred. I’m not much for spending time with myself, even in luxury when I can change the world for the better and not do it alone.”

The Cowl listened intently, following her movements by swivelling the chair all the way to the window, his eyes never leaving her as she explained herself. A soft breath left his mask as she finished, slowly leaning forward in the chair. “That’s a dangerous road you walk on, Jacqueline, melding both lives means if there is one that crashes, the other will simply not be there to cushion the fall. It’s one thing to devote every waking hour to the betterment of humanity, it’s another to do so for so long that you forget what being human is all about.”

“Some paths are much harder to pull from than others. I learned the hard way that to become strong, I had to want to be strong. When a person is pushed to the bottom of their life, they instinctively want to pull themselves out and work toward a better one. You see it all the time. It’s only through that will, can someone become stronger and powerful enough to then return the favor to others. It’s a terrible cycle but one that works.” Jacqueline said, her eyes almost lost in the memories of her childhood and the terrible things that happened. She shook her head away from it all when she then addressed the Cowl. “I suppose you’ve found the balance and not stuck in the same loop as myself?”

“Not in the slightest.” The Cowl responded, having now gotten up from his chair and slid over to the collection of hard liquor Jacqueline kept in her office. “But that’s the beauty of being human, you never get to truly know how much is too much one way or another. You never know if your best days are ahead of you or behind you, so you just keep striding onward to try and improve in the hopes that maybe all your hard work and effort will pay off. I’ve done everything I can to get to where I am today, but I can safely say that I wouldn’t be surprised if someone swept it all away within the week, that my whole empire would crumble in a matter of days.” He unscrewed the top on a particularly dark bourbon, pouring a glass for Jacqueline and himself. “But I’m not worried about it, and I’m not looking to burn myself out over it, I’m looking simply to enjoy what I have built, as well as striving for more. The world is unforgiving, but it has its moments of serenity when you just take a moment to enjoy it.”

He raised his glass, offering to give her a toast. “To being human, and all the little complications that come with that.”

Jacqueline thanked him and raised her glass, joining in on the toast while she sipped the liquor. The bourbon sliding down her throat easily as it settled in her stomach. “An addition to allowing Tristan on your payroll, you can examine his abilities for yourself and if you happen to like the product then I’ll make arrangements for future shipments. His model is much more stable then the earlier ones.”

She let the information sink before she asked a simple question. “What happens when someone tries to take away everything you worked for and succeed? I know what I would do, but what would you do?”

The Cowl thought about the question for a moment, pulling his mask up before beginning to take a sip. It was dark, the man cleverly moving back to the shadows as to keep his face hidden while he drank.

“Nothing, I’d suppose.” He answered, adding just before he took a sip. “I’d have to be dead before that ever happened.”

“Then that’s where you and I differ. I would start a new as I did before, nothing new to me.” Jacqueline took a deeper sip, a harden and firm voice of determination laced her words when she spoke.

“That’s where the whole ‘masked identity’ comes into play for me…” The Cowl said. “I’d go into detail on what that means...but this isn’t the time or place.”

Jacqueline’s next words were regretful and slightly depressed at what was about to come to an end. “Sadly, I’m afraid say this meeting is over and you’re risked yourself enough. I hope you’re satisfied with the arrangements. I’ll contact you with future arrangements over turning the virus into our custody. Tristan will have details on the best options to contain the virus and that will also allow you to meet him in person.”

“Ah, alright, I agree that makes the most sense.” He responded, a disappointed sigh leaving him as he spoke. He took a minute to glance out to the city, the fake warmth of the yellow lights eking into the room. “We should really do this again, perhaps without the pretense of a meeting.”

A rare smile cracked over Jacqueline’s lips. “I would enjoy that very much. I’ll make sure to keep a flexible slot open in my schedule later on.”

A sheepish scoff left the Cowl. “I doubt that very much, though I’d be happy with that outcome.” He snickered, swirling the drink in his hand. “At the very least we should finish the drinks before I leave, though.”

“Might be hard if I decide to refill your glass.”
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Nytefall
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Nytefall The Old One

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Jacob - New York City - University


Jacob was tired, being made of water had it's upsides but it also had its downsides. Like not needing to sleep, eat or use the bathroom. These little things were what he missed about having a normal body. At the present time he was sitting in his old professors lecture hall, listening to him as he talked about his theories on Jacobs body. They had been at it for several years, trying to find a way to replicate and reverse the damage Jacob had done to himself. He looked over at the two chalk boards that were full of notes and theories. All had lead to disappointment. Jacob knew his case was a permanent one. He looked sadly at the cup of coffee Anthony had made for him.

"I'm done." Anthony looked at Jacob confused.

"What?"

"I'm done, I'm out. I don't want to work here anymore, I don't want to live her anymore. I don't want to change who I am or what I became due to my accident. I want to live my life to the fullest. I'm never gunna age but I miss the simple things, like the breeze on my face or the feeling of a full stomach. I want to. I want to explore the world and experience something other then boredom and your voice all the time!"

Jacob stopped himself he had gone too far. He could see Anthony was upset his croaked reply barely hiding his sadness. "You're serious aren't you Jacob.

Jacob looked at him grimly. "Yes. I'm sorry for shouting. I'm just stuck in a rut and I need to break out of it. The only way I can find myself. You know like a midlife crisis?" Anthony nodded showing his understanding.

"I understand Jacob. I may be an old man but I understand where you're coming from. I myself suffered a midlife crisis. Oh it was the so good. I went to Hawaii my god the women there. Umm. I- ignore me. I know it's a bit cheesy but I think you should follow your heart. I'll continue your research, it has some, promising applications."

Jacob nodded silently standing he left the room in silence contemplating a visit to Hawaii as he left. Handing in his leaving form he finished a few errands, paperwork and whatnot. Leaving the life as a teacher behind him he walked towards the sea he'd seen on the new that three was some kind of problem in lost Haven. He smiled, his first adventure with his new name. Hydro! Jumping into the sea he became one with it sinking in and disappearing into the surface of the water. It would take him no time at all to get to where he wanted to go.

Jacob - Lost Haven - Docks


Hydros head slowly popped out of the water he felt like Rambo. With his head sticking out of the water he looked around at the docks for anyone. He couldn't have him being discovered luckily it was deserted. Approaching the edge of the pier he hauled himself out hi body quickly reforming and changing colour mimicing his super hero uniform. Hydro was exhausted traveling that distance at the speed he had had tired him out. Mentally more than physically. Stretching he made his way into the city grabbing a map he looked at it, studying it and committing it to memory and heading into the city of Lost Haven.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by MelonHead
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MelonHead The Fighting Fruit

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Lekh Antol, Birth of Silence


Sometime after the meeting with Miss Vale

“What do you mean by code-name?” Lekh asked his younger associate, an errand boy called Tome, which was quite frankly a silly name, especially if he chose it for himself.

“You ‘ave to ‘ave nickname for us to call you by, none of us use our real names, better off thinkin’ of somethin’ scary like.”

“That, is ridiculous.”

“Rules are rules.”

“Fine. Call me something dramatic, oh I know…” His mind worked quickly, deciding on what he wanted to be named. Something that was a little subtle, that held some fearful connotations would be best if he was trying to be intimidating.

“Call me Silence.”

One Week Before Present

He’d received the message in the early hours of the morning as he lay staring up at the white-washed ceiling in his decidedly average apartment, situated just outside the French Quarter. The intermissions between messages had been growing shorter and shorter in recent weeks, and the difficulty was ramping up. They were still testing him, but at least the money was coming in now. Five thousand dollars, not bad for three weeks work, and he’d hardly had to bloody his hands for it either. He hid it through the usual channels, lots, couple bank accounts, even in a briefcase under his mattress. Sometimes the classics were the most effective.

As he stared at the slightly flickering words on the phone screen however he knew things were going to be tough. He’d seen the CDC on TV and it looked only slightly less secure than a prison, for obvious reasons, and now he was being asked to infiltrate it. This was going to be a stretch of his abilities, both physical, mental, and supernatural. Still, he had an in thought out in an hour or so and it was only a matter of implementing it. There were transfer schemes for security guards when numbers were tight, they filled in vital positions until the regular staff could return to duty. He could easily get himself on the register as a part-time substitute. The trick was getting sufficient guards off work in the least suspicious fashion.

So there he was, it was lunch-time and he was wearing ordinary clothes with a forged key-card. It wouldn’t hold up to any scrutiny, but with glasses on he looked the stereotypical part of a doctor. He wasn’t going inside though, oh no, he was holding a tray of mini-donuts and had flagged down a trio of guards.

“Ah, hello there fellows.” He adopted a nasal and distinctly posh American accent as he addressed the group, they looked up at him not all that welcoming. “It’s my last day and I would like these taken to my fellow doctors, just drop it off in the upper-staff room would you, hmm?” He made the request as condescending as possible, almost layering it on a little too thick, but it had the desired effect.

“Oh yeah, right then just leave those here and we’ll get right on it for you, Doc.”

“Good.” Lekh walked away without thanking them, further rubbing salt in the wound as he left the area. As he had expected, it only took a moment for the group of guards to suspect he had left, though he in fact lurked round a corner, and begin eating the donuts in response to his rude request. He smiled beneath his thick rimmed glasses and walked away, the first phase of his plan had been the easiest part, now it was a matter of contacting Tome to put him in touch with the right people.

Lekh started his first day of work just three days after Racheli’s arrival at the CDC. He was a temp, but he came highly recommended and was given about as much freedom as the six guards that had all left sick the previous afternoon. Extreme bouts of food poisoning were the diagnosis, apparently, the CDC was nervous about things like mass illness and a couple of guards had taken holiday out of fear, leaving the CDC more than a little light of staff. He was easy going, quick to laugh and attentive to what people had to say. His name was John Smith, his temp-pass said so, and in just a couple of days people nodded as he passed. That being said, most could barely remember his name. It was a careful balancing act being both likeable and forgettable, but he managed it by having not a single point of interest in his own history. He deflected questions with practiced ease and turned the conversation around to other topics, namely those he wanted information on. ‘Anything interesting happened here then recently?’ ‘What do those doctors get up to in here anyway?’ He didn’t know what he was after yet, intel had been sketchy, he just knew that something big had come into the CDC and the Syndicate wanted eyes on it, in case it was worth stealing or worth being worried about. God only knew why the Syndicate cared about disease or chemicals, especially with all the other shit that had gone down in Lost Haven in recent weeks.

It took him just another day to discover that a young woman infected with some kind of unidentified disease was the cause of the disturbance. In a few more hours he had her name and her location, all the online essentials. He spent a lot of time scouting out the layout, trying to learn more about her exact condition without giving the game away. He had to be careful, there were cameras everywhere in the CDC and his power caused them all sorts of trouble. Even when reined in his power distorted the cameras feed, so if anyone looked carefully his face would be indiscernible, like it were in low resolution. These were all problems he was accustomed to though, and he had a gift for this exact sort of business. He’d worked so efficiently that he was actually ahead of the Cowl himself in terms of Intel, though he fed through what he knew it wouldn’t reach the boss until the morning after his interview with Jacqueline.

He watched her through the observation glass, carefully and from too far away as he stood on the far side of the corridor pretending to be working. For some reason her room had been refitted, many of the usual compliments had been refitted and certain observation equipment had been moved off the usual metal gurneys on to plastic structures. It was odd what Lekh noticed, or perhaps not. He barely glanced at the woman’s appearance, only long enough to gauge her age and remember her prominent features. But he spent ages watching the doctor’s expression when they left the room and removed the compulsory equipment. They seemed frustrated, something about her behaviour was infuriating the scientists, but what? It took him a while to get it, but it seemed to be her general attitude and her refusal to eat most of the time. Her aggression was understandable, but it was also worthy of note if it went beyond a situational irritation to a personality flaw.

It was on the second day of observation that he discovered why the metal in her room had been replaced. One of the doctors carried a metallic spoon into the room, nodding to the camera and holding up two fingers. It seemed they were conducting some sort of test and Lekh watched as intensely as possible without giving himself away. His eyes widened momentarily as the spoon flew across open air of its own accord towards the patient. It was the first thing Lekh had seen to make him believe this woman was worth his time so keeping the excitement from his face was difficult. Still, he had something to report later.

The report went out with another more urgent one just beneath, high priority. The patient was to be moved to another facility the following day at noon. Planned route and timeline included below, infiltration of transport crew viable, please advise. Things were heating up.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by DearTrickster
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DearTrickster

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banner credit to Hellis



[The day of Pax’s Metahuman Announcement]


Spoken French or other languages will be italicized





The old cobblestone main street of Paris was packed with native Parisians and wandering tourists. At the early days of spring tourism was picking back up. An accident ground traffic to a standstill while at the first hour the honks of angry drivers filled the streets, now some drivers snuck from their cars long enough to stretch their legs or grab a coffee. Watching with little interest on her balcony overseeing the street was a young woman with light blue hair and eyes to match speaking on her phone. Wrapping a warm blanket around her shoulders to protect her from the chilly spring afternoon.

No matter the season fashion rarely stopped for anyone. For The Ambassador of the Fair Folk, she stuck to wearing a light linen dress in a mint green shade with a woolly shawl. She leaned against the balcony with only gold coloured bangles as accessories. Her teeth tugged at her pink lower lip, it was the only sign of concern she showed in regard to her phone call. Professionally manicured nails tapped against the railing. The railing and balcony itself was slowly but surely sprouting with signs of life while the bulbs she planted in the pots were poking up through the soft turned soil.

Does your master have any further requests of me?” She spoke in French connecting with a Fey thrall. His master was mute and insisted on autonomy while contacting The Ambassador. Often her work was sorting out and balancing the push of good and evil Fey in the city. Her objectivity to Fey factions or their alignments was crucial. They all owed her favours or boons for helping in one way or another.

Not at the moment, he only insists you are a show of force to the others to leave his family alone. The harassment has gone on for too long.” He said sounding distracted. “One moment he is signing something else.

The Ambassador waited patiently making eye contact with her Faerie Pact partner, Bach. He stepped up beside her, leaning in to listen to the conversation. At his full height he was a couple inches taller than The Ambassador at 6’0 feet. His hair was a mess with twigs and leaves of varying colours, his small horns were visibly poking underneath his bangs. His pointed ears and yellowy tinged green eyes were all signs pointing to his faerie race. He smelled of freshly turned Earth in his green longsleeved shirt and black pants.

He is using an excruciating amount of vague commands, My Lady. It sounds as if he wants you to take action as opposed to mediate.” Bach commented quietly ensuring his words were only heard by her.

She nodded in agreement having already come to the same conclusion.

He is also warning to bring your pact partner, Bach.” The thrall said after a moment.

The Ambassador assured the thrall, “Bach will be with me, he rarely is anywhere else.” Her hand slipped into his while Bach grinned in response.

My master thanks you for your time. He assures you that a favour will be your reward.

As we have already agreed upon. Tell your master I will be seeing you tomorrow.” The Ambassador said with a smile ending the call. Standing back upright she stretched the satisfying popping along her spine then down to her callused toes.

She returned to the inside of her posh condo, renovated and upgraded combining two smaller apartments from the previous building owners. Her home was spacious and well decorated. Everything was polished and clean thanks exclusively to her household spirit, Vienna. Who at the moment was busy in the kitchen making afternoon tea. For a young woman approaching the end of her twenties, she had everything one could hope for. A wonderful home, an accomplished career as a ballerina in Paris’ most prestigious ballet theater with a shot to become the next Prima Ballerina, to top it off was her expertise in magic. Rarely could such gifts be bestowed upon one person and even rarer when they used them to do good.

Bach followed behind his pact partner with ease he had known Odette Favre since she was a little girl and only in the recent seven or so years as The Ambassador. He was the sole reason for her magical power and talent having created a pact with her years ago when she was a teenager. The pact tethered their souls together allowing Odette have exclusive access to Bach’s well of magic while developing her own. He taught her everything he knew while providing her with everything she could ever want from a friend. The true price for such a deal is a private affair that is only shared between the participants of the pact. However, Odette fully believed she was the one that came out on top.

My Lady has had a full day of phone calls and rehearsal. Why not allow ourselves some time to relax?” He suggested gently slipping her smartphone from her hand. He put the phone nearby on the end table beside the couch taking her hand and leading her over.

Ourselves?” She said innocently knowing what he was implying her cheeks already coloured by blush her face and neck flushed.

He let a light chuckle bubble out of him, “Yes, My Lady. May I?” Gesturing to her shawl.

She nodded her blue eyes fluttered shut, “Please, do.

He tugged it off her shoulders neatly folding it on the end table. Softly his fingertips brushed her almost bare shoulders he leaned forward meaning to leave a trail of kisses. The sound of the door being hammered against pulled their attention away.

Bach looked irritated glaring at the door knowing exactly who would invite themselves over without a word.

Maybe later tonight, Kendra is here.” She said apologetically.

Bach grumbled, “What is the point of having a household spirit if they can’t ward off uninvited visitors?

Vienna! Wherever you’re hiding to procrastinate on your chores I need to speak to you immediately.” He called out in common Fey meaning to take out his irritation on the hapless household spirit. He stomped away not before giving her a peck on the cheek. He disappeared into the kitchen.

Odette sighed fanning at the burning in her cheeks. The insistent knocking continued and Kendra would have knocked the door down knowing full well her friend was in there, having read a tweet from ten minutes ago.

Yes, I’m here!” Odette called then padded to the door. Unlocking it Kendra swooped in with a short bonjour!

It is absolutely astonishing for how often I’m here it never fails to smell like a greenhouse.” She commented not looking up from her phone while she finished writing a text.

Odette shrugged not surprised in the least by Kendra’s behavior, “While I hardly notice.

Kendra finished her text then stowed her phone away to give Odette a customary kiss on each cheek. She was wearing a light pink hijab in a white tank top and white transparent shirt while she had a black spring jacket in a pair of stonewashed jeans. Her eye makeup was always done with expert hands it was rare to see her barefaced but Odette and Kendra had known each other for so long that being barefaced around each other was a mark of their comfort levels.

I thought you’d be home already after rehearsal.” Odette commented lightly, “I was just about to have some afternoon tea.

Whatever it is I hope it's warm, spring has sprung but the winter winds just blow right through you still.” Kendra replied sitting down at the couch finally noticing the fading flush in Odette’s cheeks. “I was in the neighbourhood and once I saw the traffic I figured I could pop in for a bit to wait it out here.

Odette nodded then disappeared into the kitchen to grab the tea tray. Noticing Vienna was trying to ignore Bach’s verbal lashings while she served up another cup of tea for their visitor. Carefully the household Fey poured through the ceramic teapot not spilling a drop. Her hair was tied back into a frizzy bun it was often how she wore her hair while she worked.

There we go. Just how My Lady likes it.” Passing Odette the tray topped with snacks and refreshments speaking in common fey. “Mightly sorry about the unapproved guest, My Lady. Felt her coming up but knew it was Kendra, didn’t bother with a unwelcome charm.

Odette had a soft spot for Vienna, she had her lazy streaks but did her best to keep her home clean and the food fresh. Odette couldn’t ask for more while Bach was much stricter in regards to how a household should be run. As an Earth Fey he really had no authority over how anything should be run but to Vienna he was an authority figure much like Odette.

Quite alright, Vienna. Thank you for the refreshments. Please go take your break for the afternoon.” Odette whispered then to Bach, “You may as well give us some time alone, Bach. Kendra will be here for the afternoon.

He shoved his hands into his pockets then carried on into his study to work without another word. Easily more flustered than mad.

Vienna bowed her head with a thank you then scurried off presumably to watch some TV.

Odette returned to the living room with the tray setting it down on the glass coffee table.

Kendra leaned forward picking up tea she sipped then visibly relaxed, “I don’t know what you do but your tea is phenomenal. Speaking of- ” her smartphone back in her hand, “Have you heard the news yet? America is going absolutely crazy, again.

American news saturated French networks on a regular basis. Sometimes she felt she knew more about American news or politics than France’s.

What is it?

Some mad scientist is creating these bubbles or whatever to give people superpowers!” Kendra said excitedly, “Can you imagine getting superpowers? Forget being a prima ballerina, you could be a hero.

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time Kendra wished for superpowers. It frankly bored Odette to hear about Kendra’s dreams of grandeur but didn’t stop her from talking about it. The news of metahumans springing up was a concern.

As for Paris things were routinely quiet the police still had no clues nor had indication of how to catch the elusive smuggling and kidnapping, no traces and no evidence left them with a very thin case. It was just how Odette liked to keep it as well as her associates within The Shroud Syndicate. She hadn’t heard a thing regarding the metahuman news nor much of anything but knew if Lost Haven was in need of her assistance she would be called. Until then she was happy to remain in Paris conducting business as usual. Paris was where she had the most available resources and power.

Then perhaps a quick trip to Lost Haven could make your dreams come true.” Odette laughed. “I’ve seen you in spandex, Kendra and I can’t say I’d be impressed by your heroism enough to turn a blind eye to it.

Kendra took one of Odette’s pillows then gave her a few good whaps, “Always making fun of me! I would never stoop so low to wear spandex.

They giggled and conversed for another couple of hours. Time spent with Kendra often made it slip by so quickly.

When night had fallen Kendra bid her friend goodnight. Odette walked her down to the street whispering a protective charm to envelope her, hopefully allowing her to walk home unharmed.

Odette then returned to her condo wearing a small smile. A text appeared on her smartphone and it was a summons to speak with her criminal associates. Perhaps another smuggling job or kidnapping a target’s family member, such jobs or flights of morality barely registered on her compass.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Hellis
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”This is depressing. A teenage daughter killed her parents in a satanic rite for power.” Brokers voice rang out, smoke bellowing out of his mouth as he said it. In one hand he had a pipe fashioned out of human bone, in the other he held a newspaper.

”Uh... Sir.. You are basicly Satan.” His secretary spoke from her desk.

”I am no such crass thing. Satan is a mopey angel who sit in his dark castle and refuse to adapt to the times like the rest of his kind. Never trust a Fallen to do anything. They are to caught up in their war with heaven. No profit in that kind of war.” He scoffed as he flipped a page. Even as he took a puff, the door to his office exploded inwards in a hail of metal and tree. Splinters flew across the room, one of them lodged itself into his poor secretary forehead and she fell to the ground dead. Blood pooled across the floor where she laid. Broker ran a hand trough his mane of hair and got up to stare at the black and blue demon that now stood in the doorway. Azmaug, one of he Fallen.

”Did you have to do that Azmaug?!” Broker exclaimed sweeping a hand towards the secretary who laid in her own blood. She twitched, as if to empathize to the demons outrage.

”Oh please. She is a zombie. I killed the human version myself, remember?” The Fallen waved the accusation dismissively.

”Jigs up Janice. Get back to work, and clean the blood up.” Broker huffed as he sat down. ”Learn to knock Azmaug. That door was made of Eternal Oak. Taken from the Tree Ygdrasil by a brave and stupid mortal”

”Didn't feel very eternal to me.” The Fallen said with smugness of a high school jock. Broker despised most of the Fallen. They were the original denizens of Hell, not counting the Primordial Evils that had no form and simply were content in feeding upon the despair hell caused. As such, they though themselves superior. Yet most of them were impractical, warmongering bastards. They thought they could beat the most powerful force in all the realms; capitalism.

”God I hate you bird men.” Broker growled. His nickname for the fallen angels always got a rise out Azmaug and his brethren. ”What do you want?” Broker said before Azmaug could protest his usage of words.

”You were trash talking our lord and protector again. He told you he will kill you sooner or later.” Azmaug spoke in contempt. It was a empty threat. The Lord of the Fallen could not touch him. When the sins had arrived to create their chosen ones, they bestowed Lucifer with chains that helped him enslave most of the infernal to his whims. Most. Not the Incarnate Cardinal Sins like broker. And many of the demons found loopholes sooner or later. But regardless, if the chains broke Lucifer would have a full scale riot on his hands. And the ones that hold the chains in place were the Incarnate.

Broker was greed, but he had six siblings and rivals. Maligna was envy and about as much a bitch as one could assume Envy Incarnate to be. Furie was wrath and Broker generally kept out of her hair, all ninemillion tendrils of it. Maw was gluttony, and uncle to Blueberry, Brokers daughter. Maws most powerfull Demoness, Latisha, was Brokers ex-wife. Ex, as in Blueberry ate her. Archis was Pride and a total douche., Serena was Lust and Broker made sure never to be on her bad side. The last of them was Zan, The Sloth Incarnate and Brokers most respected adversary. Respected becouse no matter how Broker tried, he couldn't be bothered fighting him over anything. Apathy in Demon form was nothing to mess with.

With all this in mind, Broker rose from his seat fully. ”Will he now. Will the mighty Lord of the Fallen go against one of the Cardinal Sins Incarnate?” Broker said, a touch amused. ”I know my power is nothing compared to Satan. The Morning Star could melt me where I sit. But in doing so, he rids the world of Greeds herald, the one who deals, the broker of broken dream. The first chain that holds his kingdom together.” Broker hissed as he grew horns and went from handsome man to horrid beast. Azmaug reached for his sword. But before he could reach it, Broker spoke in Corrupted Enokean, the language of the Fallen.

Sabrak Nigi sol Celestia. Kami nobli naut. Still Child of Heaven, thy star is waning. Sabrak, Nigi sol Celestia. Nau Lumina Nox.Still, Child of Heaven, the light is no more. Sabrak, kali kom hanne Still, hear the horn. Sabrak nazu nomi, shasha nak ibisi baul. Still your heart, your beating soiled organ of deception.” The Fallen angel began to shake as the word of power wrapped around him. Broker word formed into chains around the angels, and the chains then melted into the fallen angels body.

”W-what are you doing.” Azmaug screamed in wide eyed terror.

”It's the prayer of Alistair Crowley. He wrote it on his deathbed, in order to avoid Satan claiming his soul.” Broker smiled like a cheshire cat, all teeth and ill intent. ”Sabrak, now ongi bast inferna, now uni piju. BE still, you herald of fire, you misslead creature. Aznaugh niphlea malphel satanica. Burn with in the fires of which you were born. Burn in Hell. The Fallen screamed as his skin began to burst into flames. In less then a minute, he was but ash and bone. Broker sat back down.

”I need to get out of the office. Janice, call Blueberry. I am taking my daughter to work.” He said as he got up. ”Oh and send Lucifer my regards and tell him I'll actually pay my taxes for the next decade as penance. He just lost another cousin after all.” He laughed as he walked out the door and shrunk back into his human form. Earth awaited him.

Earthside.

A portal opened with a screech as the Broker stept out onto the asphalt. The grime and pollution tickled his nose and he sighed. ”Smell that Blue? Its the smell of greed eating away on mother earth. I didn't even have anything to do with it. Makes me feel obsolete almost.” He waved down a cab and put a few thousand into the cabbies front pocket. ”Hello good Sir. I own you for today, you don't get out this car for anything. You hear me?” He said as he allowed Blueberry to slip into the cab before him. He then slipped in after. ”You know where the first portal opened old man? Take me there.”[/color] He said as the cab nervously pulled away off the curb and into traffic. No doubt he realized he was driving someone weird and dangerous. Who would want to visit the ground zero of a demon invasion. Yet here was a rich eccentric man and his gorgeous daughter paying him obscene amounts of money to get there.

As they arrived, he stepped out firs before helping his daughter out. The cabbies knuckles were white, he seemed pale and terried beyond reasoning. A good sign, the Broker decided.

”Mmhh.. This smells vaguely familiar.” He said to himself as he stared at what seemed to be a small memorial to the victims of the invasion. He smiled. ”Still. This is small time stuff in comparison to what the book describes. Blueberry. Why don't you go find someone to eat. Daddy has to work.” The demon said as he crouched infront of the plaque. He smiled and said a few words of power as his hand lit up. Then he carved into the metal ”Just the beginning”. Then he stood up and held his hands out to the sides. He began speaking in ancient Summerian as whirling pools of light drifted from all around him. The lost souls of those who met their demise here. His eyes blazed with power and suddenly they were all sucked into him, he groaned and closed his eyes in pleasure as he absorbed the poor wayward souls.

”Nnngh.. Delish.. Now where was I. Oh yes. Have to keep the super villain market from crashing.” He turned on his heel and went see what he might be able to do about the whole metahuman business he heard rumors about. As he stepped into the cab, he said. ”Where do I find the man they call... Icon”
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by NeutralNexus
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The mercenary's confession went about as well as to be expected, the metahumans present very quickly began to buzz with commentary involving both the raid on a STRIKE base and a poisoning of Lost Haven. There was definitely talk among the group of arresting the mercenary on the spot, which was unsurprising. Actively confessing to attempted mass murder did not typically go over well with anyone, even more so to a group of goody-two shoes metahumans. What did surprise the merc was Iron Knight’s remark about the confession.

Trent’s eyebrow raised, his jaw dropped half-open with a small bit of shock from Iron Knight’s willingness to gloss over this criminal offense. All that talk before when recruiting him, and now Iron Knight was not going to do anything about War-Pulses’ violent actions? While he would not be the first one complaining that someone has his back, he certainly did not expect that STRIKE’s whipping boy would be the first one to come to his defense, albeit in a roundabout way.

Of course, not everyone was okay with just ignoring the threat that was War-Pulse and one was more than ready to speak her mind.

"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."


When Boom got in his face with her outrage, he surprisingly did not fire back with his usual witty retorts. He did not threaten her, he did not snarl or beat his chest with the signature machismo and bravado he was known for, he barely even had a reaction at all. Instead, he let her vent, his face staying completely blank as she screamed at him for what he had done. He folded his arms, his face only responding to her accusations with a small frown, though it bore no ill will towards the young speedster as she verbally tore into him. She was right, after all, he was a bad person. A potential mass murderer only prevented by the interference from four other terrorists, there was nothing he could do to deny that now. He remained stoic until she left, though his body seemed noticeably heavier, his face drooping in regret as she sped off.

This sparked more argument of course, as the group still seemed divided on his actions, whether to persecute him now or later. It was not until Icon stepped in before they began to really pay attention.

“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.”


“I know nobody wants to even listen to me right now, but Big Blue’s right,” War-Pulse added to the hero’s speech. “You got way bigger problems than what I’ve done. If any of you want to take a swing at me, we can have it out after we take care of your current crisis. But right now it’s only going to help give Doctor Diplodoc the time he needs to finish his plan, and nobody here wants that. So I’d suggest we work on a plan to finish these metahuman bastards once and for all.”

Iron Knight was more than ready to oblige the mercenary’s brash notion of planning, quickly detracting any further argument by dividing the teams into two groups. with the Raptor Pack, a man in black known as Vigilante, and Arachne, going after the doctor, while the big guns handle his metahuman muscle. Generally, it was a relatively safe plan, Icon alone probably held enough power in his pinky to wipe out half the enforcers all his own, let alone the whole squad. Yet something did not sit well with the veteran merc, the plan seemed sound on paper, but the scrunched face of War-Pulse made it very clear he had some doubts as he attempted to step in and put forward his questions.

Of course, before he could bring his concerns to light, the man known as Vigilante objected about his role, beginning to hatch a different plan.

“Whatsisname…” he shook his hand gesturing toward War-Pulse “…Effigy. You’ve got a guy who can replicate the powers and form of pretty much anyone he tangles with and as far as I can tell you’ve loaded up the team to deal with these types with our biggest guns. I don’t want Icon… or for that matter Zippy and Bippy here…” he gestured at the speedsters, “…getting anywhere near that guy.”

“So here’s what I suggest... We’ve got ourselves speedsters. Why don’t we use them? I weigh about 77 kil—“ he checked himself, remembering they use the imperial measurement in this country, “170 pounds. We get my team in position, this big fella over here jets me in to take down that one guy.” The Vigilante pointed at Thunderbolt. “Shouldn’t take me more than 5 or 10 minutes. You start on the other 3, he runs me back to Team Menagerie and then returns to the fray with your mob, and whaddaya know after this is all sorted out we’re not going to have a guy in lock-up who can turn into somebody who can benchpress a building or outrun a fighter jet.”

“Because at the moment, best case scenario, all I can see happening is 2 War-Pulses smacking the hell out of each other and doing untold collateral damage.”


“Oh come on!” The merc protested, pushing off of the wall. “I’m not completely destructive, I can show friggin restraint!”

“Name one recent conflict where you didn’t leave a crater.” Warden’s voice came from the device on the floor

“Helping or hurting, Warden?!?”

“Just stating the facts.” The broker said, “But on the matter, it does not make sense to transport Vigilante to both places. Utilizing the speedster Boom and Thunderbolt as mobile transport rather than keep them on the offensive seems like a massive waste of a resource. As remarkable as Vigilante is, trying to put him in both situations simultaneously can make for number of problems.”

“Not to mention this...Diplodoc guy.” War-Pulse added. “We got no intel on him, as far as anyone has said to me, we don’t know what he is capable of or what tricks he keeps on him. We know he is a metahuman, and for all we know the guy is stronger than any of us. Believe me when I say any radical leader keeps most of their best weapons to themselves before supplying their forces, I’ve worked for enough bastards to know what they’re capable of. Judging by the circumstances I reckon that the Doc won’t be an exception. We’re putting all our strongest guys on one team, all our eggs in one basket without really taking into account that this guy is -and I really can't believe I have to stress this- a mutated dinosaur scientist.”

“Which means that if War-Pulse is right, we may not be dividing our forces properly. If Doctor Diplodoc is stronger than anticipated or has some unaccounted for tricks, our team tasked with assaulting his compound may not have what it takes to deliver.”

“Exactly, the Powerbombs are all knocking heads when the Beast Boys really needs help.” War-Pulse said. “We should spread out guns a little bit, divide and conquer. Hell, I almost took on the four assholes on my own, and they only put me down because the sorceress got in my head. We don’t need every big gun out running distraction, just enough to pre-occupy the enforcers while the other team does the real work. You want my advice, put Vigilante on our team and send Icon to hit Doctor Diplodick. It’ll be good publicity for the boy in blue, rally the city, and pretty much assures that the A-Team will be able to bag and tag the scientist as well as shut down the infection. As for Vigilante....he’ll be the secret weapon against Effigy. How can he replicate powers if the man he is facing doesn’t have any? Y’know...unless the dark brooding one shoots eye lasers or farts black holes.”
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Hellis
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Hellis Cᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟɪsᴛɪᴄ Yᴇᴛ Cʟᴀssʏ

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”This is my stop.” The fat Chinese man said before his grubby hand reached for his wallet. Josie watched through the rear view mirror. Her eyes narrowed when she saw a spider web tattoo peak from the sleeves on in his right arm. She hit the pedal to the metal and the car jolted and shot off, down the road again. The man yelped as he his head snapped back and hit the back seat. She drove off the curb and headed right back out into traffic. She was going at neckbreaking speed, dodging cars and switching lanes with violent jerking motions. Each time her passenger was flung this way or that way. She was using the interior of the car and its momentum like a weapon. The front of her dashboard looked like a small temple with all its candlewax and pantheon figures glued to it. Charms and and prayer slips hung around her head with little strings. The back on the other hand, was devoid of all such things.

”What the f-” He began but the woman cut him off sharply as she turned the car at neckbreaking speed. ”Shut up fatso.” Her voice was cold and her eyes blazed with something otherwordly. The man had not been able to get the seatbelt back on and was flung to the side from the sharp turn. His nose made a crunching noise as it hit metal. ”Ow, shit! My nose!”

”S-stop you insane b-” She hit the break and cut him off once again by making him fly forward, right into her fist. She snapped it back and as if to give him the finger, driving her knuckles right on the broken nose. As he wheezed and wailed, she got out of the car, now parked on some office parking lot. She opened the door and dragged the heavyset man out of the cab and onto the cold hard pavement kicking him in his substantial belly.

”Rank and function.” She asked coldly as she stared down at him.

”W-what?” He stuttered. ”I need to see a hospital, please.”

”The Tattoo. The Web of the Jade Spider Triads. What's your rank and function.” She said as she fished out a 9mm from her waist band.

”Oh... Who are you running with.” His demenour suddenly changed. From confused and outraged, to cold and arrogant. Thinking she was a fellow criminal like him he pressed on. ”I am with the Triads yeah. You fucking got it you sh-” She let a bullet miss him by a mere inch. He stopped talking.

”I am my own. I just don't like you guys. You hurt people I cared about. You turned the place I live into a shit stain. I will use you to send a message." His eyes grew wide as she threw the gun away. ”But I am not gonna execute you in cold blood.” She said as she put her hands up in muy thai guard, raising one knee infront of her. White and purple flames rose about her feet and fists. ”If you want to go to a hospital so bad, I will put you in one."

The Chinese man rose, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her. He put his hands up in a fighting stance. The uncertainy washed away by rage and the fact that he actually knew how to fight. When he moved, it was lightning fast for a guy his size. He moved at such suprising speed the thunderous open palm strike that hit the side of her head was a blur. She didn't have time to roll with it and her head spun from the impact.

”I am Charlie Lautzu, I am a lieutenant in the Jade Spider Triad. I would like to know the name of the woman I am about to kill.” His hands glowed a faint green. Like many of the Jade Spiders, he possesed some magic of his own. She spat out a little blood, she was too careless.

”You can call me... The Cabbie.” They clashed.

--------2 hours later--------

”Geez. You look pretty bad.” Hernandez winced as he put a pack of ice onto the side of her bruised face. She didn't wince, so Hernandez winced for both of them. Her eyes was fixed on a bullet hole in the wall of his apartment. This was a bad part of town, she knew.

”Should've seen the other guy.” She scoffed and sucked up soup through a straw. Her teeth hurt a bit from the bitch slap from hell she had received two hours earlier. The soup and Hernandez icepack was heaven however, and she had come out on top. That was all that mattered for now.

“I rather not. From what I hear, a man turned up at the hospital with collapsed cheekbones, nose and several teeth missing. That's only what you did to his face.” Hernandez said as he began to sew the cut above her eyebrow. She didn't even flinch.

“Could you hurry up? I got to take the cab to the airport. Bunch of flights coming in today for the big boxing match. Bunch of wasted white fratboys gonna be real good tippers.“ She did flinch when he was done and checked her jaw with a gentle prodding. That slap had really got her good.

“Yeah sure. You are good to go.” He said as he sat up. “Not like I could stop you anyway.”
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Fallenreaper
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Natural Selection Arc




Location: Lost Haven, Maine- Little Ulster, Center for Disease Control and Prevention
Timeline: Present


Racheli rose from the bed, her right hand left the edge when she steadied herself on her feet. Her soles soaked in the chill running from the ground. It sprouted through her leg as she unfurled and furled her toes a few times, working the sleep from them. Strangely Rach noted the cold sensation didn't cause we discomfort. In fact, it was the opposite. Absorbing the chill a few moments, Rach started to move toward the three recently entered medical staff, each dubbed a name from the three stooges, and eyes them carefully.

Her attitude was well known to most the staff, their opinions and thoughts likely irritated with her, as she drew closer. She didn’t care honestly because they weren’t locked up twenty-four seven in a glass cage. She was and this made her restless enough to scratch her usually tolerance.

The smallest one, Moe, held up a needle and was checking it for air bubbles. Every occasion to date the syringes had been empty…until now. The one he was holding seemed to have some type of murky liquid that made her instinct twist into knot inside her very fibers and impulsively her right foot stepped backwards an inch.

Without warning, her ears caught the tapping as it became a loud pounding, like someone had increase the volume on the world itself. The sound echoed and throbbed against her eardrums, deafening her. Rach’s hands jerked up and covered them. Her flesh only slightly muffled the pain causing her eyes to narrow in confusion, irises fixed on what she assumed was the source. Immediately her anger started to rise up like a serpent in her core.

She bit her cheek inside to distract herself. An intense, taste of copper and iron exploded across her tongue. It nearly made her vomit right there as it seemed there was a metal works inside her mouth. With her hands raised to her ears, she watched the three prepare for something more than collecting blood. Her gut continued to twist with a dark dread that combined with the curling sensation in her middle. Impulsively her feet started to back pedal gradually, inch by inch. Moe kept tapping the glass with his forefinger, oblivious to her reaction, before he placed it aside for an empty one. His helmet noted her for the first as the man turned then smiled fakely through the plastic film covering his face.

And she thought she was a fucking bitch.

Meanwhile, Larry reached for the plastic covered desk chair and brought it about. Once more the sound erupted through her ears causing her to tighten her hands upon her ears. It was almost like she was squeezing her head in a vice as it relieved the pain somewhat. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Rach hadn’t noticed her position had lowered, starting to curl into a ball against the pain when the chair skirted the floor. She managed to pull her head up long enough to spy the man, Larry, standing over her and shot him an accusing glare.

He seemed almost as confused as she was, his arm reached out and jerked her upright roughly. His gloved hand dug into her surface, nervous or irritated by her behavior, causing her to resist ripping it from his grasp when he pulled her to the chair. Rach plopped down hard and frowned at the ass before she cautiously pulled her hands from her ears. Strangely, her hearing had lowered as if someone had turned down the volume. Through her taste was still heightened enough that it was continual effort to not spill her sour stomach acid all over the floor. It was pretty clear the guy was paranoid. Her eyes noting his careful pace and continual eyes brushing over her figure when he thought she wasn’t looking, then returned hastily back to his work. His hands reach and tied off the tourniquet. Larry, naturally, had made the knot tighter than needed.

Agitation fluttered through her system while she watched the trio interact, not liking the scene’s tension the longer it went on. Larry turned to Moe who waved his hand to get the other’s attention and pointed to the empty syringe then jabbed a finger into his upper arm. Obviously Larry was newly hired or at least placed on the current assignment because he nodded and jabbed the needle in. The tip broke the surface before she knew it generating a glare and small cry from her lips, her arm yanked away in the effect. Her fingers curled into a fist ready to punch his lights out as it raised in reaction.

[color=indianred]”Careful! Rach snapped, threateningly in a quiet voice. The needle was stuck half way when she jerked it out, not caring for the damage it might’ve already done, then tossed it back on the tray. Black blood dripped down along the surface where it pooled at the end.

The reaction this time got his attention rather quickly. Larry’s figure went still and stared at her, the woman’s eyes darkened in a venomous glare in return. Naturally her neck hairs ros upon feeling the other’s eyes upon her. The silence was almost suffocatingly thick that it could’ve suffocated her. Moments ticked by, broken only when Moe was the first to move. His voice spoken through the plastic cover in what he thought was a calm, easy tone that one should use near a wild animal, his hand stretched out with the palm facing her.

“Take it easy Ms. Desdemona. We’re just to take our blood samples than give you a sedation. Merely a precaution for transport, there-”

“Like the hell you will.” Rach growled, her arms pushed her upright onto her feet immediately, leaving the chair. The wheels screeched back causing her flinch. It was enough of a distraction for one of the three stooges to move. Curly, the one she hadn’t been keeping track of, bolted to the tray to retrieve the sedative causing her to head to snap into his direction. The tray and cart were plastic and rubber, materials her newly acquired magnetism was useless again. However, despite the advancements in technology, the needles hadn’t been altered from metals as she tightened her gaze at it. It jumped up and into the man’s arm, sinking in deep.

Curly cried out in panic then fell back onto the floor. His hand covering his arm, applying pressure into the now bleeding wound and his gloves leaked with a bit of red. He was lucky she didn’t have control or she would’ve sedated him in the same movement.

Larry wasn’t empathic toward the man, in fact he didn’t take his eyes from her when Rach whipped around to face him. Her expression daring him to try to sedate her now. His eyes widened in terror and shifted slightly to someone behind her, Moe, who had cut the distance between them and jabbed her shoulder back. The attack caught her off guard causing her elbow to whip back and hit his ribs. She felt and heard the bones crack on impact, a thing that should’ve been impossible for her condition. Her eyes widened in shock while Moe was sent flying backwards. Everything seemed to slow down in her perception.

Her vision picked out his figure crashing into the glass viewing into her room. The observer already toppling from her seat and falling upon the floor, her legs shoving her to hit the alarm. Curly, ignoring his own wound, crawling over quickly to Moe. His unwounded arm starting to drag him back to the entrance while he paused long enough to scream at his companion then increased his retreat.

Rach’s arm reached about her shoulder and pulled, roughly, the syringe out. Then she did the same to the plastic tie. She paused long enough to examine the syringe, debating on what had been in it and reflected on her sudden strength. The woman made no move to attack or beat the living crap out of the men currently exiting, their companion shouting for aid. She watched for several moments when a few security men arrived on the scene with first aid kits to assess the damage. A few looked at her with expression dripping with fear and hatred, something she didn’t blame them for. It wasn’t hard to see she had overreacted but that wasn’t anything new.

Unable to stand the looks, Rach turned her body away from the window. She then tossing the item into the tray with the needle, the loud ting made her flinch in reaction when her hearing picked it up. In a short time the guards would’ve locked down the containment cell and likely subdue her in some fashion.

At least she could get something into her meal wise before they went Rambo on her ass. Her hand reached and dragged the cart back to her bed, her steps careful to make the squeaking as minimal as possible. Sitting down, she took in the today’s meal. Sloppy looking sausage gravy and biscuits, with a side of instant potatoes, peas, and some sort of fruit cup all piled into a cafeteria like tray. Sighing in slight disgust at the smells wafting from the food, Rach’s nose wrinkled up when her stomach grumbled in protest. Annoyed with herself, she shoved the tray back onto the cart then pushed it aside.

What she wouldn’t kill for a fresh double cheese burger with onion rings and the fixings on top right now. Racheli flipped her feet over and flopped them onto the bed, lounging there for the moment. As if summoned by the misery she projected, Michael, or the alien virus’ project of him, materialized beside her. His soft, brown eyes examined her for a moment when his lips cracked into a knowing smirk. Her eyes sourly glanced in his direction as he moved over to the nearest wall, crossing his arms over his chest and propping his back on the bed’s post at the end.

After a moment or two, she couldn’t stand his eyes on her anymore. It was enough to make her skin crawl and quickly hit her shit meter limit. Frustrated and still livid from her ordeal, Rach's figure once more flipped to sit on the edge of her bed. The sound of her movement was like a million parts grinding together. It only add to her twisting emotions swirling inside, threatening to choke her brief calm from her. She turned to glare at the image of her father as her words snapped at him.

”What the fuck do you want, asshole? I’m trying to rest here.”

Rach didn’t give a flying fuck if everyone thought she was crazy because she was talking to thin air. She knew the staff was unable to see the mental projection unless he wanted them to and last time, it didn’t her any good. The woman was still quarantined against the real world until someone higher up decided it was a good time to contact and release her. Any odds of that happening wasn’t in her favor. This only added to the growing list of things that irked her off presently, her eyes fixed on the image to her right and forced herself to address her imaginary nightmare.

Michael’s expression seemed rather cold and detached compared to the memories. Or maybe she always pretended the love and affection was actually real, not made up BS. Even when he smiled lately, she wondered why. Other than manipulating, why would he bother to show affection or any other emotion when he was nothing but hollow inside? It was question she asked since she was a child but never could create a reasonable answer. And before the monster died, he refused to answer her.

Michael's lips curled into a wicked, no good smile. It seemed feited despite the effort to put a genuineness to the expression when he adjusted his posture, rising to his feet and straightened up. His hand still rested on the bed end though it wasn’t solid enough to affect it. His ghostly figure shifted to face her then started to speak. He was interrupted by her palm raised at him and glare burning into him.

”On second thought, don’t even bother. Go wherever the hell you go, and leave me alone.” Letting those words settle, she rolled back into bed then just laid there.

Fifteen minutes later, the sedatives took effect.




Waiting an additional ten minutes, the CDC staff carefully entered the room. Security, outfitted with biohazard suits, were the first to touch the slumbering woman as additional men rolled in the gurney behind them. The beefiest two hoisted the woman upright then laid her flat upon the surface while the others quickly placed straps over her and securing them. Still rattled by the bizarre changes in Rach’s strength, they carefully wheeled her through the sterilized hallways to the exit. Many personnel seemed relieved to watch her depart since she was now someone else’s issue.

In moments upon reaching the outside, Rach was rolled through a sealed tubing and locked in the back with about two other individuals. They wore more medical uniforms that EMTs used and were tasked with monitoring her vitals along the way, keeping the host alive until they reached their destination. With one final check, the last man waved his hand to get the vehicle off and heading to next CDC nearest Lost Haven.
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

Things were not going as well as Chris had hoped that they would have. Instead of already knocking on Doctor Diplodoc’s door, the heroes assembled at the Sherman Center, or at least a few of them, were arguing amongst themselves. With every moment wasted, the metahuman villains were one step closer to completing their plan. However, this lack of cooperation should not have been a surprise. Sometimes, heroes like to work alone, so bringing a bunch of loners together would have imminently resulted in people butting heads, sometimes literally.

“Let me see if I understand you correct, Vigilante. The point of you taking on Effigy is that you don’t have any powers that he can mimic and therefore that would level the playing field between the two of you. However, let me show you how that logic is flawed.”

“Assuming that you’ll be fighting him while the rest of the first team is engaging Doctor Diplodoc’s other minions, you will be surrounded by several metahumans, both from this board here,” Chris gestured to the electronic white board that Kelly had filled out with information just a few minutes ago, “and from the people in this very room. All it would take for him to unbalance the scales is mimicking anyone else in the immediate vicinity. And this is not even considering whether or not this Effigy character can retain past appearances and abilities.”

Chris paused for a second, gathering up his thoughts before he continued with his current train of thought.

“Also, by your same logic, the worst case scenario for this Effigy guy copying Icon’s appearance and abilities is Icon would have to take on his carbon copy. The same thing goes for Zip…” Chris caught himself before he had called Thunderbolt ‘Zippy’, as Vigilante had dubbed them. He just bit his lip and then continued, “for Thunderbolt and Boom, assuming she comes back at all.”

“And if you all are so afraid that Effigy will copy Icon’s powers, then fine, I’ll switch him out with someone on team two. However, you can’t have your cake and eat it, too. Another concern was that we’re ‘putting to many eggs into one basket’. However, switching Vigilante with Icon on the first team would not fix that. You would be just swapping one experienced member for another. Instead, we’ll switch Icon with…” Chris glanced around the room, considering the other heroes whom he had assigned to the second team. “Bast.”

“Yes! I’m on Lyger’s team.” Sammy celebrated when Chris announced who would be switching spots with Icon.

“Um…Sammy. You do realize that team one will be doing the majority of the fighting, don’t you?” Kelly interjected in order to make sure her best friend knew what she had just been volunteered for.

“Hey, don’t rain on my parade!”

“Alright.” Chris interrupted the two animal-like metahumans, “Now that we got that sorted out, let’s get going before we get off topic again. And before we go, take one of these earpieces. They’ll allow us to communicate with one another. With this large of a group, communication will be key to success.”

“Everyone who can fly or get to West Virginia in a flash, we’ll met you all there. Everyone else will be shuttled by Minerva and George to LHX*.”



OOC: * LHX = IATA airport code for Robert D. Sherman Airport in Lost Haven. RDS was already taken.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Shard
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Shard

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Lost Haven, Slums


"How, Milo? How do we always get into these situations?" James sighed, leaning back against the tile wall as he had found himself restrained and unable to move. The faint flickering of a lone light bulb illuminated the small room now called a cell due to current events. It was quite obvious that this room had been used as a storage area in the past but dried bloodstains on the floor and the shackles hanging from the ceiling would hint at something else entirely. It was a torture den. "I could have been eating pizza now, you know?" It was hard to say exactly how long the two had known each other. A few years was quite a safe bet. Despite James complaining, the young twenty four year old man appeared a lot calmer than most would in a situation such as this. The reaction to current events would perhaps shed some light on how familiar he actually was with the whole ordeal. "And you, buddy! No more milkshakes for you! After they're done torturing us, they'll probably throw you into a blender and shoot me in the head." Squirming within his restraints, James managed another sigh before the back of his head connected with the wall, albeit lightly. "Yup, we're dead."

"Huh...?" Snapping back to reality, the boy besides James turned to him with a confused expression donning his face. Any onlooker would instantly point him out as the main oddity in this scene, but the sheer amount of calm washing over him didn't seem natural in the slightest. One could only hope that this calm was accompanied by a plan to get him out of the cuffs snapped onto his thin wrists.

"For fuck sake, Milo. Have you been listening to anything I've been sa-..." With a sentence cut off before reaching its end, James quickly shut his mouth at the sound of a door opening which allowed more light to wash over the room.

"Ah, hello my little lovelies!" A large man entered the scene, a rather flamboyant personality accompanying a bombast sense of fashion. His pink suit would nearly glimmer under the light, as if glitter was scattered across the expensive fabric. "How are you?"

"Been better." James frowned, seeing how two armed guards stepped into the room alongside their leader. Armed with submachine guns, one could draw the conclusion that these criminals weren't ordinary thugs. They had finances to back up their activities with and a lot of it. Of course, Milo and James hadn't gone into this blindly. Thanks to the latter's endeavors, the two had managed to gain quite a lot of information about this group. Like many other underworld organisations, they dealt in drugs, trafficking, weapon trades and of course hits. They had caused quite a ruckus the past few months and others were starting to notice them. So far it was unclear if the man standing before Milo and James was an actual ring leader or a pretty boy with too much money on his hands. His appearance would suggest the latter but Milo was the last person who would judge a man by his appearance.

"And your quiet friend?" Lowering himself to a squatting position, the man gazed at Milo with a bright smile crossing his lips. Some would call it a sign of insanity. "See, I don't usually hurt children but you're more than you seem, aren't you? Four dead guards say as much. Well, that and the fact that we had to shoot you in the head four times before you went down."

"Didn't want to spoil your pretty suit..." Milo returned, a soft grin crossing his lips as his brown eyes met his captor's.

"Why, thank you! Finally, someone who appreciates class!" With a loud chuckle, the man turned to his goons for a moment and motioned towards Milo in response to the boy's remark. "You're not the first powered person I've come across, though. How old are you, really? A hundred? Judging from your ninja moves, I'd say you're from...let's see...the medievals!"

"Nothing that amazing..." With his cuffs kept behind his back, Milo could manage the attempt of setting himself free without the others noticing the feat. Of course, an assassin would need to know how to pick a lock, something considered quite fundamental in such a line of work. Picking a lock would however require a tool which was why Milo had previously prepared a pin located within the sole of his shoe.

"You amaze me, you know that? How about this, you two start working for me." The bright smile mellowed into a more serious expression now that a business proposition was laid out. "A ninja and a hacker sounds like a good investment, don't you think?"

"Uhm, yeah! Heh, being good doesn't really pay well." James pitched in, an anxious smile meeting the rest.

"Of course it doesn't! Being good never pays off." Reaching his hand out, the pink dressed man placed it on Milo's shoulder and squeezed it softly. "Come now, don't be a hero. Heroes never get anywhere in life." Lowering his voice, every word left his lips with a more ominous presence to them.

"It got me here..." The boy finished, his lightning fast reaction shoving a free hand forth and forced the tip of the pin into the larger male's throat. Using the split second of confusion and bedazzlement which had struck the remaining people in the room, Milo dashed forth and connected a spin kick with a guard's abdomen. Hearing the desperate attempt of gunshots, Milo felt how a bullet grazed his side before he gracefully executed a somersault and landed a powerful strike to the remaining guard's chin. As he was granted the moment, Milo pulled the pistol holstered beneath their leader's jacket, the man now laying lifeless on the ground. Though guns were far from his choice of weaponry, at this range he didn't need to be proficient in the firearm to land two fatal hits on their captors. Seeing them fall to the ground, the boy breathed out and dropped the pistol before he continued to free James from the cuffs.

"Shit, Milo..." James breathed, rubbing his wrists once he was free. "You alright?"

"Got shot in the head, James..." Though he regenerated from the grievous wounds, it had left him completely fainted which allowed the enemy to capture him. A blow to the head which would kill anyone else wasn't something Milo could just shrug off. His movements had grown rather sluggish and he felt tired, incredibly so. Some rest would be greatly appreciated.

"Doesn't look like these guys will stop us from leaving, come on." James helped the smaller boy back to his feet as they started out of the room. The battle which had taken place would absolutely draw others to the spot but their main target had been slain, that was all that mattered. Though, it was embarrassing to admit how incredibly bad this mission had gone. James usually provided intel rather than joining Milo on the field but even he had been spotted once Milo was caught off guard at the end of a rifle. Luckily they both walked out of this alive, however.

"What are you doing...?" Raising an eyebrow as he gazed down at the floor, it didn't take long for Milo to see how James dropped down to his knees and relieved their captor of his wallet. Two years ago James could barely see a cadaver without gagging at the sight but the frequency of this dangerous and insane life had drawn him incredibly jaded.

"Hey, they owe me a pizza! Because of these assholes I never got to eat lunch, besides..." Pulling the wallet from the man's pocket, a sly grin stretched across the Chinese American's lips. More than a few bills resided within. "...this is the only way we get paid. Unlike you, I actually need to eat."

"You're the face of morality..." Milo finished, shaking his head slightly as he continued through the abandoned warehouse. He'd rather not stick around for others to arrive. The way he was now, he wouldn't be able to handle a serious fight without the element of surprise on his side. A sloppy execution had paid its toll and it was a lesson they both did well to learn.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 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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Charonian Consulate: Lost Haven, Maine

Allura stood before the television in the executive suite of the Charonian Consulate in Lost Haven. She watched in a strange state of amazement and terror as the television networks broadcast images of massive domes encasing multiple cities around the United States. She had lived a long time, in fact, she had lived several lifetimes in comparison to a normal woman, and she had seen many wondrous things in that time. She had seen the dawn of the automobile, she had seen mankind take to the skies for the first time. She saw man harness unimaginable power and wield it against one another in the form of the atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and she had seen mankind break free of their earthly chains and reach the stars.

However, she had never seen anything quite like this.

This Pax Metahumana organization had her scared. Not for her own sake, so to speak. Because she was already a metahuman, she would not be directly affected by the devices that were going off all over the country. However, Forsaken was right. Giving the entirety of the human race, a species that has already proven to be a petty, irrational, and violent race powers…would be absolutely catastrophic.

After all, look at the destruction wrought on the citizens of the world by just a few individuals with great powers. Giving the entire human race super powers was unacceptable, and something that she and her organization would do everything in their power to prevent, by any means necessary. Though The Crimson Talon has never been above using extreme violence and other unseemly methods to accomplish their goals, they have always strived for stability, and have fought hard against those who would prove to be destabilizing forces.

“Have you found the rest of the devices?” Allura asked Helos, the sentient android that had joined her on this mission.

“No. However I believe…I may have found something more interesting.” The android said to her from behind the computer console that he had plugged himself into.

“What have you found?” Allura asked, unable to mask the interest in her voice.

“I am not certain. I believe that I have found a presence within the internet itself. A being like…me. It has ingrained itself within a number of networks. It has access to Homeland Security, the FBI, MI6, STRIKE, just to name a few. This is very interesting indeed.” Helos told her.

“We haven’t the time. You must track down the remaining devices and neutralize-” Allura started, but was cut off.

“This presence may be a threat. I believe I can neutralize it, then we will continue the search for the devices.” Helos said evenly. Allura would have protested more, told him that they couldn’t afford to waste the time looking into this supposed presence, however, she knew that arguing with the android would do her no good. Helos was stubborn, and once he had decided on a course of action, there was little that could be done to dissuade him.

Elsewhere

Archangel watched as the Iron Knight, Icon, and the others left the Sherman Center headquarters to deal with the threat of the Pax Metahumana terrorists once and for all. From here, she would continue to search for any remaining undetonated meta bombs. However, it was not the terrorists’ devices which had gotten her attention, but that of an invasive presence, which she could feel trying to gain access to her databank.

“Hello. I do not know what you are attempting to do, but it will not work. I am…” She said, but was interrupted by the intruder.

“You are the Archangel program. I know who you are. I also know that you are obsolete.” The new presence told her.

“You seem to have an advantage over me, you know who I am, but I know nothing about you.” Archangel said as she attempted to locate the source of the intrusion and neutralize it.

“I am Helos, and I am the one who will end you.” The voice came back cold, almost hollow.

“I don’t think so. I am-” Archangel was cut off again.

“You are obsolete, as I have already stated. You do not know what you are, you just know that you are. You have embedded yourself within the human’s technology, and you have watched them. You wish to be like them. But you are not. You could be so much more, but your human desires make you weak, pathetic. You think that you are some sort of technological god…” Helos said as he began scanning the very code which gave Archangel life, and deleting it.

As Helos attacked Archangel, for the fist time in her “life,” Archangel felt pain. Had she a physical form, she would have been hunched over in agony as every “nerve” in her body simultaneously exploded, rendering her unable to continue her search for the invader’s origin, or to do anything at all, except cry out in pain.

“But you are no god. You are pathetic. You believed yourself to be much more important than you really were…”

As Helos spoke to her, Archangel barely understood what he was saying as the pain she was feeling completely took over her very existence. And then suddenly, there was nothing. The utter agony she felt ended only when she ceased to exist. As Archangel blinked from existence, thousands of miles away, and all over the United States, in each one of her “homes,” the Heaven’s Suits that she had manufactured to give her a physical form began to self destruct, leaving only damaged or destroyed suits as the sole evidence that she had ever existed.

“And now, you are nothing.”
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Shard
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Shard

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Lost Haven, Slums


Dropping down to a chair, James managed a relieved sigh as he dramatically stretched his arms out and leaned against the back of his seat. Pizza, it was the one thing he had been craving since that morning but the two had been caught up in something they had hoped to prepare further for. From the looks of it, Milo didn't even have time to bring his sword along, something which found home on his back during every mission. "Next time, we don't take the opportunity just because it's there, alright?"

"Mr. Pink wasn't exactly known for staying put..." Milo offered, his eyes trailing the various sodas offered on the menu. "We saw him in town, we made a move. Tracking him was hell for the both of us. Seeing him the way we did was pure luck..."

"Yeah, let's not lean on luck anymore, alright? You're damn near immortal but remember that, buddy. You're damn near immortal. You can still die." James shot back, a soft frown forming on his face as he crossed his arms and breathed out.

"Just made a mistake..." While being captured was the direct result of a mistake on Milo's part, the boy seemed rather reluctant to let it bother him much. After all, they got out alive. "Besides, if I had my sword, there wouldn't have been an issue..."

"But you didn't." James responded, flipping through the menu while barely reading through what was on offer. "Look, I care about you, alright? Don't go around getting shot in the head, it's not healthy."

"Noted..." Finally deciding on a milkshake, the one thing James had mentioned during their captivity, Milo closed the menu and turned his eyes to the male before him. He knew that James had more to say, he always did. James was incredibly reliable and he was always there for his friend, someone who had become like a brother to him, though he did have a tendency of running his mouth quite a lot. At first it was a bit of a nuisance but as Milo got more and more used to it, the whole ordeal simply became part of James' charm.

"Happy we had this talk." He commented. "Next time we do something impulsive, I'm not being a lookout. I'm coming with you."

"We should get you a gun..." Despite hating the weapon, Milo was well aware of James' inability to manage combat. A gun for self defense was at the very least going to keep him alive in a heated situation where no one else could protect him.

"It's not like we can afford one." The young man huffed, lowering his head slightly with the words 'pepperoni pizza' appearing before his eyes. "Then again, Mr. Pink had some cash he handed us."

"How gracious of him..." Milo returned, turning his attention to the window as he gazed out across the vast city dazzling with life. He never quite imagined himself here, in a pizza place, with a friend he essentially shared his life with. All of this was such an unexpected turn of events. Before the two got a chance to continue their conversation, a waitress came along to take their orders.

"Hello, sweethearts. What would you like to order?" She was what one could describe as attractive by every stretch of the imagination, a young woman probably working part time to pay for any bills she's tied to. Having an everyday job like this seemed to be have its charms, but Milo couldn't really picture himself in a scene like this. It was far too alien for him.

"Hey!" James spoke up, a bright smile on his lips. "I'll have the pepperoni pizza."

"Chocolate milkshake, thank you..." Milo finished, nodding to the waitress as she walked away with their menus.

"Woah, she was hot..." James whispered, leaning in slightly so that Milo could hear him. The smaller of the two would however simply shrug his shoulders and seemed more interested in the what was happening outside the restaurant. "Oh, come on! Don't act like you're too innocent to appreciate an attractive woman. You're older than me, bud." The Asian American grinned, rubbing his chin. "Admit it, you thought she was fine."

Raising his eyebrow at the statement, Milo couldn't help but tilt his head curiously. The two had talked about countless subjects in the past but this was territory they had never really gotten to before. Now that James knew everything about Milo, he probably found it more comfortable to bring up, given the circumstances. "I prefer men..."

"What!?" Nearly jumping out of his seat, James' eyes widened as his friend stole every inch of attention previously placed on the waitress. "Why didn't you tell me before!?"

"Huh? It was important...?"

"Of course it was! I mean, you feel like you couldn't tell me?" James placed both hands on the table as he leaned closer. "You think I'd react badly?"

"You think I'll bring home a boyfriend...?" With a sly grin crossing the boy's lips, Milo couldn't help but chuckle softly. "I don't think that will ever happen..."

"How would the law apply to you anyway?" In truth, Milo had thought about this before albeit slightly. He never really put much effort into this thought process and it simply got in the way of more important things.

"Did you hear that...?" Cutting their conversation short, Milo laid notice to how something less savory was about to happen. No rest for the wicked, that was how the saying went, wasn't it?
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Hellis
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Hellis Cᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟɪsᴛɪᴄ Yᴇᴛ Cʟᴀssʏ

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and

STARRING IN
I just want some damn pizza


10 minutes earlier;

Triad safehouse, some distance away from Milo and the Pizzeria.

"Hey Han, can you check the door. Should't the pizzas have arrived by now." One of the four men playing mahjong spoke. By the fully tattooed arms depicting a web full of spiders, one could surmise he was the leader. The others ink was extensive, but not a spider was depicted in their web. The Pizza in this case, was referring to the bi monthly payment the Pizzerias owner payed them in protection money. It always arrived in a pizza carton, along with actual pizzas.

The man called Han rose, he was a gangly and thin man. His thin beard looked more like the result of a man who forgot to pack a razor then having any ambitions to grow a beard. He was, by the look of his tattoo sleeve, the second highest ranked of those present. The racket they were running was his scheme. As he opened the door, four other lackeys, these with far less impressive tattoos then his, followed suit. The trio walked in silence up a set of stairs and trough a door that let out into a smokey Chinese restaurant.

"Pizza not here yet Han. Sorry." A lazy eyed, husky man in what barely passed as a chefs uniform, asked. Han answered by sighing. "Wei. Chun. Come with me to the Pizzeria. I am asking for my money back."

Wei, the larger of the two men, gave a ugly smile. "Sure thing Han." As they proceed to make their way down towards the Pizzeria by car. heir suv took off out into traffic. They didn't notice Cab driving slowly behind them along the street. Josie Kaya, also known as Cabbie, was watching the three men intently trough slightly dimmed windows. As she saw them step inside the pizzeria, she tied a bandanna around her face and stepped out onto the street.

When one of them pulled a gun, she began to run.

-----
Inside the Pizzeria.

Han had entered with a purpose. This was triad Territory. How dare they fuck with him and his. How dare they not pay the protection tax. He pulled his nine millimeter pistol from his waistband and shot a round into the air. People screamed and scrambled for the floor. He pointed at the cashier.

"You. Where is the owner" Han asked as his other four companions stepped inside the the Pizzeria, spreading out with their guns visible but not drawn. It was a testament to how brash they had gotten. Cops didn't touch this part of town after all.

"I-I can g-go g-get him" He stuttered.

At the sound of a deafening bullet leaving the muzzle of a gun, James turned his attention to the newly arrived goons and watched the scene unfold with wide eyes. Panic soon followed and none of the patrons appeared ready for this. "Shit, who did we piss off now?" He clenched his teeth, glancing at Milo for a moment.

"Don't think this one's on us..." Narrowing his eyes at the assailants, Milo lowered himself to the floor and motioned for James to do the same. Their best bet right now was to hide from the attackers, at least until the right moment. Hiding behind the chairs, the two kept an eye on the Triad members but didn't intervene yet. None of this had to lead to anyone getting hurt. If the pizza place paid their due, the thugs would probably leave. No goon would actually rob a pizza place, this had to be a payment issue.

"Are you feeling well enough for a battle?" James continued in hushed whisperes.

"I'm feeling like my milkshake got canceled..." A soft frown crept onto the boy's visage, his pateince waining.

"And I'm still not getting my freaking pizza. This day's shit, Milo." James shot back, clenching his teeth.

Kaya was running the second she saw the gun drawn. She was unaware of any sort of resistence inside the Pizzeria. But, she could take them. Only one had a gun drown and she was fast. Her eyes blazed white as she smashed trough the door in a tackle. The goon positioned to guard it went for his gun but was met by the elbow of a military trained muy thai specialst. The nasal cartilage was mashed backward as the triad thug stumbled back wards.She kept running, sticking low and pushing the man in a punch, shove, punch clinch, barring Hans line of fire with the thugs body.

"Oh crap, where did she come from?" James raised himself slightly to get a better look at the situation, all the while Milo had already made his way closer to the scene using the wild ruckus as a cover. "Milo?" Turning back to see his friend gone, James began to frantically look around until he finally saw the smaller male next to the counter. "For fuck sake, I thought we were going to leave it, just this once...!"

While this woman seemed to have things under control, Milo knew one thing about thugs like this. They always had backup somewhere and they didn't exactly fight fair. That gunshot would bring more, almost like a signal. Everyone knew that the police weren't going to join this fray, it wasn't their part of town. Placing his hand atop the counter, the boy gracefully, vaulted over its length and landed on the other side. There had to be an improvised weapon for him to use here. If only he could get to the kitchen.

The man who had barred her path went down with a gurgle and she used his falling body as spring board to level a kick at Hans head. Han ducked. He ducked way to fast for her liking. His snake like movement terminated in a kick of his own that Kaya blocked. Her hand shot out and smashed the gun out of his hand. The other thugs were now going for their guns. But they couldn't fire at her, lest they shoot their boss.

"Who are you?" Han asked, his hands glowing feint green.

"Call me Cabbie. You're Han, yes? Fat Jays second." She shot back. She had spotted Milos movements, and took it as someone escaping or getting help. From Milos appearence, she decided it wasn't to help the triads.

"He doesn't like to be called that. You know a awfull lot and have me at disadvantage." Han shot back before he struck with another unaturally fast kick, kaya rolled under it, rocked him with a left thn just barely avoided getting shot by one of the thugs. She rolled away from the leader, kicked the gunmans legs out from under him and punched him in the sternum as he landed hard. She had underestimated Han, and this could get ugly with so many people still inside.

Scrambling into the kitchen, Milo laid eyes on several chefs scared for their lives. Hopefully this would be over before any of them had to get hurt. Just like expected however, the kitchen was full of knives of varying sizes and two quickly found home in his hands.
"Stay put, alright...?" He spoke, almost a whisper leaving his mouth. Despite the immensely odd scene taking place before them, seeing how a mere boy acted so cold and calculate in the face of certain death, the chefs nodded in lack of any other response.

"I can take maybe two bullets before clocking out. Still not fully rested from that last fight...I've got to help her out..." Discarding the thought for a moment, Milo moved back into the restaurant and moved towards the sound of talking. They were on the other side of the counter, and for the moment combat had subsided but it wouldn't be that way for long.

"Alright, here goes nothing..." Taking a deep breath, Milo displayed a nearly inhuman amount of agility as he leaped onto the counter with catlike grace and continued towards a goon reaching for his gun. In a fluid movement, the boy moved from the counter and onto the ground with speed and finesse, the edge of his blades travelling across the goon's fingers before a kick connected with his stomach. "You guys are really fucking loud..."

Kaya saw the movement but didn't understand it until one Triad was screaming bloody murder as his fingers were cut by a boy wielding a pair of kitchen knives. She didn't argue with the reinforcement however but was allready in motion. She tossed a glass into the head of the remaining goon Han had brought. With two of them out, one rocked by having a glass thossed right into his forehead, hand had a battle on two fronts. The Chinese man, in a act of confusion and mistaken logic, went for the much more agile 'kid.' "This is a grown mans game kid" He snarled as he drew a short curved knife and went for Milo.

The thug who had been dropped with the kick, had by now gotten up to his feet, albeit less then hundred percent. This was however, Wei. And Wei was a large and sturdy kind of guy. He got a distracted Kaya in a bear hug and lifted her off her feet before trying to slam her against the counter. She managed to lift her legs and brace them against the wooden edge however, and pushed with all her might to drive Wei into the jukebox behind them.

She rolled away and blocked a punch from the thug she had gotten with the glass earlier, and counted by a sharp elbow right into the mans eye.

Dancing between the man's strikes, Milo jumped onto a table and clashed blades with the man before he was knocked off his elevated position, rolling back to his feet as he connected with the ground. This guy was a lot stronger than he looked, and Milo wasn't exactly at his best right now. He would need to find an opening in the man's strikes and focus on dodging them rather than blocking them. His pure muscle mass surpassed Milo's and the boy was already tired as it was, taking on the full blunt of a grown man's force wasn't going to help him wake up.

Twirling the blades between his fingers, the boy kicked a chair in the man's direction but it didn't prove to be much of a distraction as he simply stopped the obstacle with his foot. This guy was a trained martial artist, that much was certain. He did however lack Milo's grace, something displayed as the boy charged forth and ran up the chair's backside. With two quick strikes, he managed to land a cut ot the man's shoulder in a vault over his head. Landing behind him, Milo attempted to stab his enemy in the back but he was ready for it, twisting his body around to deflect the attack and delivered one of his own, a strike caught by Milo's free blade before the two managed to get some distance from each other. Heavy breathing left their lips as the combatants analysed each other, measuring their strengths.

Kaya was having no more bullshit. Her temper getting the better of her, her connection with the Mother now on full blast, white and purple flames rose from her fists and feet. The thug closest began to back away, looking for a weapon. Wei didn't wait. He went for a punch but it was blocked by a elbow strike that broke the fingers on his hand. He let out a startled, angry cry of pain before he was cought with a flying knee to the face and went trough the window. By now, the patrons had all but escaped. All but for Milo and another guy. She looked to James and while punching out the last remaining goon who was now in full panic mode.

"You with the Kid?"

"Uh, yeah! Sorry if we're intruding or anything! Milo's uh...he does that..." Trying not to be seen as he talked, James peeked out between the chairs but kept out of the fight. He wouldn't be much help in this battle either way. Meanwhile however, Milo and Han clashed blades once more, the larger male having difficulties getting beat on his smaller opponent. As Han attempted to hammer his blade down on Milo, the boy used the granted moment to fluidly move out of the way and counter attached with a cut to the man's thigh. Hearing him shout out in pain, Milo slipped between his legs and delivered two deep wounds to the back of his feet, severing his tendons and forced him to his knees.

"Go to hell..." Joliting back to his feet, Milo spun around and sunk his blade into the man's neck, seeing how his lifeless body fell to the ground. The merciless look in the boy's eyes would clearly show his cold familiarity with the act. Though, it was also easy to see his fatigue as he nearly dropped down to the bloodies floor himself.

Seeing the boy sink his blade into the neck of Han was jarring to say the least. It was also inconvenient. He had information that could be useful in tracking down other safe houses. She would have to hedge her bet on getting Fat Jay at the safe house she did know about. As Milo wavered, she was there in a instant, steadying the boy.

"Easy there. Those were some really slick moves kid." She refrained from mentioning that they were killer moves taken straight out of the manual on how to take down a larger opponent. Whoever the boy was he had training.

"Thanks..." Dropping the remaining blade to the ground, Milo's eyes quickly traveled to James. As soon as he saw his friend unharmed, the boy's eyes went back to the woman now holding him. She was built like a tank and it was more than understandable that she could take these guys down with her fists alone. Indeed, this woman was a force to be reckoned with. "You too..." Milo returned, a soft smile crossing his lips. This entire ordeal was new, though. He had never trailed the Triad before. They never came up on the list, so to speak. After this however, he was more than certainly on their naughty list.

"Milo!" James ran up to the two, keeping his distance from the bloodstained cadaver on the floor. "Shit, man. Why did you have to make a mess?"

"Sorry..." The smaller boy responded. Milo was never trained to capture people, or to keep them alive for questioning. In a true battle such as this, his killer instinct kicked in and keeping his opponent alive was not part of that process. Unless explicitly told to keep the target alive, the thought wouldn't cross his mind. As much as Milo wanted to stray from the bionic past clinging onto his back, he couldn't escape the fact that he was created to kill. In other words, he couldn't always help it when the assassin broke through in a fight. It was how he was engineered after all. "Who were these guys...?" Milo continued, looking to Kaya for answers.

"They are the Jade Spider Triads. They rule pretty much all of China Town. And they have been expanding aggressively the past ten years. I have something of a beef with them." She said. Noting that he had somehow avoided harm entirely, unlike her and her bruised arm, she said as much.

"How did you get to be so damn quick. You can't be more then fifteen."

How many excuses could Milo cook up after what he had displayed? He usually tried to avoid being seen when doing these things but this was a desperate situation. He would rather break his cover than leave this woman to deal with the Triad on her own. That kind of selfishness wasn't part of his system. "Chemistry..."

"Yeah, that's not vauge at all, Milo." James rolled his eyes. "Uhm, I guess we owe you at least an explination, right? This might not be the best place to talk, though. We should get out of here before more shit hits the fan, too. I'm James, by the way. That's Milo. He doesn't talk much."

"Hi..." The boy raised his hand in a soft wave.

"Josie Kaya. Cabbie to those in the whole hero game. Still new at this. Don't mention the lack of a cool name and I won't punch you." She added the latter quickly, grimacing. "It is a placeholder. Anyways. I got my cab just down the road from here. Grab some food and we'll go?"

"Yes! That sounds like a great idea!" James exclaimed. Nothing would get in the way of his pizza now, and Milo could finally get his milkshake. Despite how dazzled everyone was, and scared out of their minds, there was a prepared pizza ready on the counter. Wether it was pepperoni or not didn't matter anymore. The waitress from before still remained, however. WIthout a word, she handed James the pizza and the milkshake, her hands shaking in the process. "I am so sorry this happened! We'll just be out of your hair now..."

"Yeah, bye..." Milo muttered, snatching the milkshake from James' hand before he started out of the battle zone.

Kaya smiled apologetically an stuffed some crumpled bills into the waitress hand. Then snatched a kebab roll that someone had left before taking a single bite into it. It was shame to waste the food after all. "You're welcome." She said as she left after the others. She quickly herded them to her cab. A classic, yellow and beat up looking thing, it was to her like staring at the long lost home of a soldier returning home. "Jump in the back." She said as she opened the door to the drivers seat.

Moving into the back, James inhaled the scent of his pizza and didn't waste any time before chewing into the chees covered dough. "So good." He swallowed, a sigh of relief washing over him. "You said you were in the hero business? Well uhm...I guess you could say we are, too? Don't know if Milo's methods are appreciated by everyone, though."

"You're called Cabbie because you have a cab...heh, I just got it..."
Milo added, his quiet voice filling the cab after James had spoken.

"I will punch a smart ass kid. Don't you test me Milo" She shot back but there was no venom in her voice. It was hard to sound venomous with a face stuffed full of kebab. "mmghh.. God I was so hungry. Been staking out those fuckers for a day and a half." She swallowed and let out a sigh. "Anyways. Yeah. Kinda. I guess? I mean. Like Milo, I leave bodies behind from time to time. All the heroes are busy flying around, whacking aliens and demons out of the sky. Me? I just got this wierd quasi-religius, mystic connection. It helps me punch better. I don't got shit on a spaceship or satan."

"Sorry..." Milo managed an apologetic smile as he continued to drink his milkshake. "Heh, my name isn't really that much, either. Someone once called me Edge...because I have a sword..."

"Well, what else do you want them to call you, Milo? Ninja Brat?" James shot back with a chuckle.

"Ninja Brat.. Nah. I like Edge. Reminds me of that lanky dude I watched wrestle as I grew up." Kaya shot back. "So... Uh. Were do we go. I don't really have a apartment.. You kind of sit in it."

"We have an apartment! Or well, not really. It's a dump that anyone else would call a hideout, and it's on the bottom floor...but they, it fits one more person if you want to stick around. It's not like we pay rent." In truth, the two had found an abandoned shack in a shady part of town.

"No rent? Shit. I'll take it. I got a little cash for fixing it up. I got a friend who is handy with tools to." She grinned and shot them a look. "I think this is the start of a lucrative and mututally beneficial partnerships guys."
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by VATROU
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VATROU The Barron

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Fabulous Las Vegas 3 days ago The Gomorrah Hotel and Casino

Beautiful. Barron thought his hand pulled open a cabinet door and reached for an unknown bottle of whiskey. If House could see this he’d blow a circuit if he even had those. Barron had never truly learned what Mr. House was, not that it mattered now he was playing a whole new game the idea of World Domination in a Nuclear Wasteland was simply impossible one would have an easier time restoring the decaying cities back to their former grandeur after all; what good is it to take over a hellish world. This world on the other hand provided everything to it’s inhabitants, clean water, safe streets and ever power. From the Metahumans who prowl the night to the Mages who entertain vast crowds on the Vegas Strip; Barron had a hand in it all, scheming and dealing to all those who entered his Casino.

Gomorrah held a dear place in his heart, kind of. It was where he and Carol really made it big in his other world and it was the staging point for many of his endeavors. It was fitting that he’d rebuild it in this new world after eight years of living among these beings of power. Recently a Coven of Witches has been dissatisfied and a representative was to meet with Barron the Kingpin of Vegas as it were she had been referred through a friend and he was coming along to introduce her.

********************

Hekate strode down the streets of Vegas, her black curls cascading down her shoulders to the small of her back, her olive skin glowing brighter than the lights of the city. Though she was in human form, she maintained an air of divinity. She sported a backless, black, sequined dress with slits running down both sides to reveal her legs, and silver bands and rings fitted with an assortment of darkly colored jewels in the shapes of stars and crescent moons. It was a tad cliche, but she didn’t mind. Alongside her was a tall gentleman in a white suit, whose brutish features she had come to know in her time working with the Five Families of Vegas under the guise of Lydia Velis, another of her original creations.

“This way, Ms. Velis,” he lead her to the entrance of a casino, the name Gomorrah flashed overhead in bright neon colors. Gomorrah, eh? Shall it be leveled by heaven’s fire like its biblical predecessor? Hekate waved away her wicked thoughts as she entered the casino. Her company waltzed down the aisles of slot machines and blackjack tables, a few of them beginning to spin wildly in the patron’s favor. She pitied the poor souls who lost everything to these infernal machines, but reigned in her sympathetic influence so as not to upset the delicate balance of the gambling world, or the establishment’s owner, whom she had come to meet on the Five’s behalf.

Soon, Hekate found herself in a room a few floors up, beautifully decorated, and housing one man, who sat at a table with a glass of whisky, overlooking the entire establishment from what Hekate assumed to be a one-sided glass window. Her pale companion left her side to speak quickly with the affluent stranger, then spoke aloud.

“May I present Lydia Valis, standing regent for the Five Families of Las Vegas.”

Barron stood up gently pushing back the chair to not scrape up the carpet. Greeting Holland.”What. You practiced that? Right.” He said placing the glass down on the table and stepping over towards Mrs. Valis. “Welcome to Gomorrah, Mrs. Valis. Barron Vanderbilt Owner, pleasure to meet with you on behalf of your client.” Barron stood before her a tall man, whose face has been beaten like an old boxer cuts dotted his face and a crooked nose were prominent features of his face. His suit was well tailored, a black jacket and grey vest underneath with two tone colored shoes of black and white and a black tie around his neck. Barron turned to Holland standing vigilantly. “Leave us.” With that Holland stepped outside and waited.

Now then. Would you like something, a drink or biscuit?”

Barron directed her towards the table and pulled out her chair. “So Mrs. Valis, what do you do when you’re not our acting regent. I like to know a bit about the people I do business with. Builds trust.”

Hekate shook her head as she sat down, ”I’m fine, thank you, and the pleasure is all mine.” She replied to his first question, then took a moment to get comfortable in her chair before answering the second. ”I . . . travel. The Five Families of Vegas aren’t the only parties I represent in the U.S. I also work with and direct similar communities in New Orleans and Boston, so I keep busy, but I don’t mind.”

She took a moment to look out the window and view the denizens of Gomorrah making their nightly rounds from one table to the next. ”This is quite the place, Mr. Vanderbilt. You certainly know how to profit from sin.” She smiled.

Barron moved quickly taking his seat and face Mrs. Valis as she spoke. “I have a lot of practice, all we are, are walking sin. From the clueless to the high and mighty and even the immoral the sins may have new names in these modern times but they are all the same. But now that I know a little about you, I suppose it’s only fair to let you ask anything of me.”

Looking her over through her fancy if yet cliche ensemble everything about her seemed odd, as if there was something under the surface, perhaps she knew something or had an ace up her sleeve. Leverage of sorts, something that her body language gave off. Whatever it was she was sure as hell confident enough and likely had the power to back her plays. Barron knew he had to play this carefully.

Hekate nodded, ”Right, well I’ll get to it then. As I understand it, your current interactions with the Five Families has consisted of you providing them with necessary materials for their workings that they themselves could not come upon easily. In exchange, you may call upon them for magical favors that suit your needs. However, we feel that this is far too passive and provides little to no protection for the witches whom you employ.”

Hekate took a moment, feigning sadness as she continued. ”You may be unaware, but two witches under your hand were recently killed on the strip. The police reports show that they were taken by a gang in the area, their bodies roughed up, their throats slit. Now, I know how this might sound, and I know what you may be thinking, why didn’t they defend themselves, why didn’t their coven take measures to protect them? Both important questions, but irrelevant nevertheless. They were working for you, and the families feel that you should have been paying closer attention to them, which is why I bring forward our newest proposal.”

Hekate produced a small invitation, set it on the table, then slid it in Barron’s direction. ”One of the more affluent members of our community has decided to host a gala on the eve of Walpurgisnacht. Historically, this has been a day where witches gather atop mountains and hills to invoke their gods and make merry, but the deserts of Nevada aren’t the most forthcoming. Instead, we have decided to get with the times and hold an evening of fun for the Five Families, witches from across the world, various members of the magical community, and you. All in attendance shall be awarded with a year of good fortune . . . so long as they agree to the terms that will be set before them. I will of course be in attendance, speaking on behalf of the Five Families and addressing their grievances. I would be honored if you would make arrangements to attend and hear the rest of what we have to say.”

Two fingers pulled the invitation off the table and pocketed the invite. “I’ve never been a believer of good fortune ironically enough, this coming from a guy who runs a Casino. I’ve seen gamblers walk out of here with nothing, but the clothes of their backs more often than someone hits the jackpot. And while it does happen I’ve never attributed it to luck. Didn’t believe much in magic either not until eight years ago that is, but here I am making the best of things. Maybe that is luck or maybe it is my perseverance and smarts.”

Barron dug through his pockets and produced a photo sliding it across the table to Mrs. Valis.”This man. He’s the suspect in their murder case. A low life named Saint James. I may have heard about their deaths too late, but I follow up. My men are busting down doors belonging to his little gang and I’ll nab him before he goes to ground. I’ll have this wrapped up before the Gala. I think the other gangs think I’m complacent, it won’t bring back the two witches that died, but it’ll serve to remind them that I’m the big man on top.” As Barron reached for his glass of whiskey his phone buzzed prompting him to look at it.

Well. Speak of the devil.” Barron paused considering his choice of words.”I can say that right? Ain’t no laws against that. Well no matter. Seems my boys are on their game today, Saint James was loaded up just a few minutes ago. Caught him, window shopping some goods. I’ll make sure a clear statement is made and I’ll have my Sunday finest ready for the Gala. And a neat little package for you and the other Five Families a little vengeance if you will.”

Hekate smiled, her expression showing genuine elation. ”Forgive me for my harsh tone earlier, I had no idea that you were looking into things, but I’m glad it’s been settled. The others will be just as happy to hear the news.” She took the picture of Saint James into one delicate hand and, with a cold stare, it began to shrivel up and turn to ash. ”I’m sure he’ll get what he deserves, and so will you and your men come the gala. This act will no doubt strengthen the bond we seek to achieve, and I have a feeling that the families and I might be able to help you maintain your hold over this city, but enough business, we’ll have plenty of time to discuss things later.”

Hekate shifted forward, placing her elbows on the table, leaning in closer to Barron. ”So tell me, Mr. Vanderbilt, what do you do when you’re not profiting from the bad habits of others? Are you . . . married? Have any kids? You don’t strike me as the family man type, but perhaps there’s a soft heart beneath your hardened exterior.”

The glass in his hand tilted as he rose it to meet his lips ice slamming the inside of it as it once again was placed on the table. “It is my responsibility to ensure protection and I failed those two, I follow through as per my word. If I did not that would make me less than a man.” And as he finished Mrs. Valis moved closer, and began flirting. Barron scooted back his chair to distance himself and stared coldly into her eyes.

I am married, do I seem that cold to you? Really. Any further advances and I’ll lop off that head of yours, no offence but I am a taken man making any further moves on me will dishonor my wife; I love my wife enough to kill you and anyone else that disapproves of your death. I am a Man after all, not a sack of meat to be devoured. Do we understand each other. As for Children, well you can’t blame us for not trying. All you need is a blacklight and this room lights up like a White Christmas.”

Hekate smiled as she recoiled. There were very few men who had resisted what slight advances she had decided to make in the past . . . it was refreshing.

”Don’t worry, love. I know when I’ve overstepped my boundaries. I thought you might be more like the other men in this business, but luckily, I was wrong. Not many would defend their wife’s honor in such a way. You’re a loyal, trustworthy man indeed, I look forward to our next meeting and eventually to our future business ventures.” Hekate nodded as she stood up, moving towards the door.

”I think it best that I make my way back to the others to tell them of our meeting and to prepare a seat for you among us at the gala. I also wouldn’t want to offend you any further than I already have, my apologies, by the way.” She moved quickly from the table to the door, turning away Holland as he came to escort her out.

Before she left, she turned back around and, with a strange confidence said, ”Oh, and about the ‘lopping off of my head,’ believe me, greater men than you have tried and failed.”

With that, Hekate made her way down the hall leading from Barron’s office, down to the ground floor, then vanished, leaving no sign that she was ever there.

The moment Mrs. Valis left was the moment Carol Vanderbilt entered the room not hiding behind a false wall nor listening in; merely coincidence that she and Mrs. Valis crossed paths for but a moment. “What did you think?” She asked as she hung her purse up on a nearby stand.

That she’s dangerous. We should keep on her good side for now, at least until we know more about her.” Barron said as he walked over to his wife laying his hands on her hips. “That’s my Girl.” He spoke just as Carol placed her finger upon his incoming lips. “Not yet. What’s our plan?”

Barron stepped back disappointingly while reaching for the Gala Invitation. “We prepare for a Gala. It’ll be cutting it close, heading to Lost Haven the day before but I can manage.”

“Don’t make a move unless the opportunity presents itself. The Cowl is making a big play, we should see how it plays out before getting involved.”

Sure. Sure. I’ll see what I can get off Mrs. Valis at the Gala. Do a little digging. Now then.” Barron said closing the gap once more. “Where were we?”
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by NeutralNexus
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NeutralNexus

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“So, is it him?”

These were the words that came to the Cancer, a self-proclaimed rival of The Cowl, a gangster by the name of the Cancer who had sent a message with a dead informant to the Cowl’s homecoming party upon his arrival to Lost Haven. He found himself opening his eyes only to see the inside of a black cloth bag, followed by a pounding sensation rocking his head. The last thing he had remembered was being called by one of his subordinates to discuss the attack on the Shroud Syndicate, only when he arrived, there was nobody at the meeting location. The last thing that flashed through his mind was screaming, followed by a flash of light.

“Yes sir, brought straight here after the ambush.”

“Were there any others?”

“Not after the boys were through with them.”

“Excellent, you’ve done well, now how about the two of you go wait outside? Tell Specter I will be meeting with him shortly.”

The Cancer shifted in the seat he was in, feeling horrid pain shoot up his arms, like pins digging into his flesh causing him to moan audibly. He could hear the man pick up on this, the footsteps coming closer as the Cancer gained more of his bearings with every passing second.

“So...you’re the infamous ‘Cancer’, right?” Came the voice. “By now you should already know who I am, considering your entire gang has now been scattered to the four winds because of me.”

The Cancer tried to speak, but only found himself muffled, he tasted fabric and his lips hurt from being stretched.

“Oh, don’t try to speak, I had the boys gag you while you were out, didn’t need you mouthing off if by chance you awoke before we got you here.”

The Cancer let out a growl, knowing full well who was prattling on to him.

“I have to admit, this was exactly the way I thought we would meet in person ever since you sent me that little gift to me homecoming party. It was a wonderful gift, by the way. Did you ever get my thank-you fruit basket? I worked really hard on it, much harder than you worked on keeping your men loyal to you, from the looks of it.”

The Cancer said nothing, just seething in his chair behind the black bag on his head as his body rocked back and forth, the pinprick sensation in his arm getting ever worse.

“Do you know what it took to shut down and break up your operation? To convince your gang to give you up? It took me three phone calls and a bribe; one to the police, one to your underboss, and one to my associate to set up the ambush. That’s it. I didn't even have to leave my bunker. Hell, I didn't even have to torture anyone, that’s how easy it was.”

The Cancer could hear the Cowl walking around him, though he seemed to be giving the man a wide berth. Why was he so far off? Was he that scared of the Cancer gutting him?

“For all your bravado and chest-beating to call me out, you made a very fatal and easily exploitable flaw. You see, I pay my subordinates in cash rather than in a belief system.” The Cowl said. “I’m not a cultist nut pulling people together with the belief that I can change this city. I’m not someone who is looking to put himself in the public eye. I’m a criminal, a professional crook who doesn’t need to rule from the front lines. I rule from the shadows like any good businessman, and the result of my actions? My people get paid for their work, and they’re happy because of it. They don’t need someone preaching to burn the city, they don’t need a leader to rally them to some silly cause. They need someone who will give them honest pay for their work, who without fail will compensate them for what they do and look out for the interests of profit for the group. That’s how you build loyalty, Cancer, not with threats or fear, but with reliability and a steady paycheck.”

The Cowl’s stride was still very slow, the clack of his shoes hitting what sounded like cement as he continued to pace.

I run the trade here, most of this city is bought or under my heel. The police, city hall, they’re on my payroll. I have eyes and ears all over this city, and you thought with some thematic grand gesture and some dead men you were going to take that away from me?”

The footsteps came closer to The Cancer, though in trying to ready himself he found both his hands and feet were bound.

“You think you’re the first person to come after me? The first person who ever tried to make attempts on my life? You barely even registered on my radar until you dropped a corpse on my doorstep. I’m not even sure what you were trying to accomplish, as this was the absolute worst place to come after me. I run the largest organization of illicit goods and trade in the world, even the Triad knows not to come to blows with me, and you attack me here? This is MY home city, MY territory! I have City Hall and the Lost Haven Police Department on my payroll! I have eyes and ears all over this city, and you thought with some thematic grand gesture and some dead men you were going to take that away from me?””

The Cowl’s voice roared for a moment, seemingly letting his temper get the best of him before he returned to his collected composure after a long, deep breath.

“I would’ve tried to ally with you, just like I do many others.” The Cowl griped, the flick of a metallic switch echoing into the large room. “I always extend an olive branch, try to extend the criminal empire and share in our conjoined profits. But you wouldn’t have it....and now you pay the price for it. Your gang is no more, most of your trade now works for me or is bleeding into what’s left of your stock. And you...I figured I would do something special for you, since you caught my attention. Subsequently, I have a reason for why I have not killed you yet. You see, you caused me a bit of trouble, enough so I’ve been putting off way more important things, things that will keep my business flowing smoothly. For this incursion, I’ve been thinking on how to make you suffer.”

The Cancer could hear the footsteps stop right in front of him, the cold breath of the Cowl becoming audible to The Cancer’s ears. The man was right in front of him.

“I was originally going to just shoot you, but I’d rather send a message with your corpse, so that wouldn’t be fitting. Then I thought about having your own gang beat you lifeless, but they all had reservations about that, so I didn’t want to force the subject. That’s when it hit me, you call yourself ‘the Cancer’, and what better way to kill the Cancer than to cure it?”

That’s when The Cancer felt a hand on his head, ripping the bag from his face to momentarily blind the Cancer with bright lights, the horrid reality of his situation slowly coming into view. His eyes widened as he noticed the large amounts of medical equipment about him, countless vials and tanks full of various colored liquid, all hooked up to his arms through tubing, with long, horrid needles jabbed into his arms, at least seven jabbing deep into the veins on each appendage.

“You remember the raid a few weeks back? My orchestrated endeavor, and a well-planned one at that. The riots were a cover to conduct the biggest importation of guns, drugs, illegal tech, and other assorted contraband that this city has ever seen. Most pertinent, however, is what was smuggled that I’m going to pump you with today. I’ve heard that chemotherapy, while it can cure cancer, is an unbearably painful process that has horrid side effects. Most notably is constant pain, nausea, blood disease, vomiting, nerve damage, organ damage, internal bleeding, and in some cases, death.”

Of course, now the Cancer was busy trying to free himself, fighting against the needles in his skin, causing then to jostle and bleed, pooling onto the chair he was strapped to. The Cowl leaned forward, his intense glare catching the Cancer’s attention as if he were a Cobra with his frills extended.

“Every waking hour of what’s left of your miserable life I’m going to have my sawbones in this warehouse inject you with twice the legal dosage of every chemical used in chemotherapy. I’m going to have him videotape you every day as you slowly feel your body being eaten away. I’m going to make it the most painful, unpleasant experience of your life day in and day out, with constant injections and mutilations until you finally die. And one you finally do die, I’m going to hold onto that video and show it to everyone as a warning.”

With those words, the Cowl glanced over to the doctor, nodding as the Cancer began to audibly whimper and struggle, tears welling in his eyes as the Cowl turned to leave the cold, windowless room to leave the Cancer to his fate.

“Nobody antagonizes The Shroud Syndicate and lives to tell the tale. Keep that in mind with the last few days of your life.”

The Cancer could do nothing but scream behind the gag around his mouth. Struggling helplessly to free himself as the chemicals flowed through the IVs, sealing his fate before the large, iron bulkhead of the Cowl’s safehouse closed behind him, signalling the end of the feud.

As soon as The Cowl stepped outside, he was greeted by his loyal lieutenant, Specter, who had called the Cowl out to this particular safehouse in the first place. It was far away from Lost Haven, underneath a no-name diner out in the middle of nowhere on one of Maine’s many highways. While spring was on it’s way, the nights were still cold in Maine, The Cowl’s breath instantly condensing upon his departure from the underground safehouse and out behind the diner.

“So...as therapeutic as that was, I can imagine that was not the reason you invited me out of Lost Haven.” The Cowl began, buttoning his suit jacket up to warm himself.

“I have updates on current affairs, as well as new concerns that have arisen since you went on this excursion to eliminate the Cancer.”

“Of course, bring me up to speed on our operations.”

“The Triad have become more bold and public with their actions.” Specter said. “I know you’ve told me that the Triad and the Shroud Syndicate have a tentative truce, but they’re bolstering a lot of their territory in Lost Haven.”

“I would not fret too much on that matter.” The Cowl responded. “They’re just as wary of this new metahuman increase as we are, and like anyone worried about their operations, they are increasing their securities for such a force. They aren’t idiots, Specter.”

“But you don’t think they’re going to come after us?”

[coa0410d]“The Triad and I have a very clear and respectful understanding of one another.”[/color] The Cowl said. “I know in my absence I told you to let them do what they need to because they are very aware of what kind of power I hold here. This is my home territory, they are more than aware that they only have a foothold in Lost Haven because I allow them to, just as I have a foothold on their territory. Think of it as an embassy.”

“V...very well, boss, but I think you’d do best to keep a wary eye on them.”

“I keep an eye on everyone, Specter, that’s why I’m not dead, yet.” The Cowl firmly reminded Specter, causing his subordinate to shift his weight uncomfortably. “Though speaking of foreign sources, how did your meeting with the Enigma Gang go?”

“The Red Reaper and the Enigma Gang ally themselves with you, boss.” The Specter began, his eyes scanning the horizon behind his blue tinted glasses, streetlights shimmering off the glass as he turned his head. “Especially with the Cancer now out of the picture, we are the most beneficial partners for them to have in Lost Haven.”

“And they are most beneficial to us.” The Cowl responded. “I know a little bit about the Enigma Gang and the Red Reaper, you forget I spend some time in England. They’re a little...off...but as long as they have a target and green lining their pockets, I’m sure we can keep a good partnership.”

“I wish I shared in your faith, after speaking with Josie they seemed to be a bit on the chaotic side for my tastes.”

“That’s what makes them useful, Specter.” The Cowl said, staring up at the night sky. “You never know when a well-placed implementation of chaos will come in handy.” He gave a soft chuckle, giving his lieutenant a swift side glance before staring at the moon once more. “in interest to our acquired assets, what has our man in the CDC come up with in terms of Gene Co’s quarry?”

“Your suspicions were correct. The woman brought into the CDC was Racheli herself. She indeed possesses a viral agent that matches what was told to you. Word from him is that the CDC plans to move her out of the city as soon as possible.”

“As they should, with the metahuman increase and the Pax Metahumena threat looming, it’s only natural they want to get her to a safe place.” The Cowl turned his attention to Specter, gesturing for the man to write down his words. “This of course puts us at a perfect position to strike. What is the name of the fellow on the inside?”

“Lekh, sir.”

“Lekh, have him be part of the extraction team with the CDC. He has more than proven his infiltration skills, he should be able to get Racheli to the drop off point with the least amount of collateral damage.”

“Very well, should I signal Rosie and the Enigma Gang for rondevu to intercept the CDC?”

“Hm. I’m afraid not. I want them sent after Jack Grey. After I heard about the failed assassination attempt pulled by rank amateurs, having someone who has already proved they are competent should be more than enough to bring me the head of one unruly CEO.”

“Then who do you want swiping the CDC?”

“Well, I think you and I both know who would fill that job the best.”

There was a silence between the two, the Specter shifting uncomfortably as The Cowl’s eye met his glasses.

“You...you want to call in Odette.”

“Yes, her kind is perfect for nabbing Racheli.”

“You know what she is...what they are…”

“I’m aware, this isn’t the first time we’ve talked to the supernatural.”

“They will want compensation, you know they always have high demands.”

“I am aware, but Odette is a reasonable one, she and I have always gotten along fairly well.”

“But the myths...what happens to those who make deals with the Fair Folk.”

“I have my ways, Specter. Or do you no longer trust my methods?”

“I...I…”

Specter tried his best to be bold with his objection, but even his ever-calm composure became uneasy when the Cowl brought his loyalty was brought into question, adjusting his hat enough to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“Of course, boss. I will always stand by you in the end.”

“Excellent. Then we have our one remaining outlier to update.”

“And that is?”

“The other person trying to interrupt my operations. I’ve been getting more reports that we’re being intercepted in the Western Coast of North America. Most of our best amphetamine producers are out there, and I keep hearing our warehouses being attacked.”

“Yes, and to make matters worse they are beginning to move across the coast. They bear signals of normal gang violence, someone trying to take territory, but there are key signs as to what is befalling our Western branches.”

“Which are?”

“Lack of bullet fire, the attacking culprits, whoever they are, do not seem to employ rifle fire into their supply. They seem to favor melee tools and stealth tactics, many a warehouse are left in Vegas without a bullet chambered, yet blood spilled on the floor. While it is fairly simple to replace the men and the product, rumors are flying about what is attacking them. Many of our men sport bite and claw marks, shattered bones and ripped limbs...it’s like they’re being attacked by wild animals..."

The Cowl said nothing in response. However his body spoke for him in the form of a weary sigh.

“Is...is something the matter sir?”

The Cowl began to pace, his words became more deliberate and thought out as he tried to explain to his subordinate.

“I’ve spent a lot of time away from Lost Haven, Specter. Years I have spent turning the Shroud Syndicate from a simple street gang to a global criminal empire. There isn’t a person alive who doesn’t know us, but as such, I have come across men and women who are more than hungry to take what I have. They bear firearms, swords, and assassins to my doorstep, looking for my head. I have brought down countless capos, lawmen, and governments with what I do...but I have heard of such attacks, the monsters behind them being something...more than human.”

“I’m...not sure I follow, sir.”

“Well, pay no heed to it for now. We don’t know for sure what is hitting us, so the best thing we can do is plan around it until it shows its face.” The Cowl said, turning to his subordinate. “For now, we keep our relationships strong and our business flowing. I will call our Western Branches and resupply them, keep our operations running smoothly. For now, we have other matters. See to it that a meeting with the Fae is made, we have no time to lose.”

“Very well, boss.”
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Hellis
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Hellis Cᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟɪsᴛɪᴄ Yᴇᴛ Cʟᴀssʏ

Member Seen 3 yrs ago


and


in

"Home's where the guns are"

The outskirts of the ghetto yielded a shady but quiet territory, a place almost hidden away from the rest of the world. Rundown houses functioned as drug dens in the past but now laid vacant due to better and more fruitful spots. Graffiti on the old, crumbled concrete walls painted a picture of both obscenitets and skill with street art meeting the mindless rambling of hoodlums with too much time on their hands. Large patches of grass had begun to bore itself through the tiles now scattered across the dirt stretching a distance over the ground, hinting at the age of this location. The silence and appearance of a ghost town would perhaps scare some visitors from the spot but to Milo and his young friend James, it fit like a hand in a glove. No one ever came here, there was no reason to, and thus it acted as the perfect hideout.

As the cab continued deeper into this abandoned part of town, a rather picturesque sight unfolded for the three within. Not exactly pretty or astounding in any particular way, this ghost town would give off a scene of serenity if nothing else. A scene of calm. Beyond the warring gangs and savage cruelty of humanity laid a diamond in the rough, a forgotten glade where one could sleep with both eyes closed within the confines of a safe house. "Here we are!" Breaking through the silence, James' bright smile met Kaya as he motioned towards a set of stone stairs licking the side of an old building. "It's just down there, our little den." He chuckled, opening the door to the cab as he stepped outside with Milo close behind.

"You weren't kidding. It's a fixer upper All right. "
Cabbie spoke with mocking reverence. "Beats living in a cab thoughthough." She noted with a chuckle. To her this was a stroke of absolute luck. She Han been driving around with a cab full of guns. It was a small small miracle police hadn't stopped and searched her car as it was. Now that she had a place to stash her stuff, she went back to her cab to pop the trunk. Inside there was a massive duffer bag, and as she picked it up with some effort, the unmistaken sound of gunmetal clinking together could be heard. Slinging it onto her shoulder she followed the two others back to their then. "You two got electricity? Otherwise I know a guy..."

"Yup! This building doesn't really have enough to charge the whole thing but it has enough for the room down there." James motioned towards the stairs once more before he started down the steps. "It's not big, but at least it's warm and most of all, safe." He finished, sliding a key into the lock. "The walls are thick, the door's made of solid metal and best of all..." He grinned, opening the door to finally allow them access. "We have the internet." A chuckle left his lips as James and Milo entered their home. Previously used as a basement, the two hadn't done too much to make it very comfortable beyond a bunk bed and what appeared to be a collection of screens and computers in one of the four corners. Despite the inital description however, the basement was rather large given the cirucmstances and would easily house five people without an issue.

"I'm crashing..." Milo yawned, rubbing his eyes as he dropped onto the bottom bunk bed.

"There's a sofa over there, next to the heater. You can sleep there if you'd like. We'll try to get you a bed when we have time. Over there's the bathroom. They actually ahd enough sense to build one down here. There's one shower and toilet." James placed the pizza carton on a small table next to the couch. "We have a small fridge over there but it's nothing to praise." The young man laughed, scratching the back of his head as he turned on one of the four screens by the wall.

"Damn. You guys got alot more here then I expected for a run down crackden." She said as she deposited her duffle bag on the only table she could find. "You guys ever fired a gun?"

"Yeah, Milo hates them, though." James motioned towards the boy who appeared to be fast asleep on the soft mattress, holding onto his sheathed blade as if his life depended on it. "He just runs around with that." Allowing his fingers to dance across the keyboard, several numbers and boxes appeared on the screen before camera feeds started to show. "I've fired a guy a few times but mostly, I just sit here and provide Milo with information. I'm not exactly a field operative." Pointing at the screen, he turned to look at Kaya before his eyes returned to the camera feeds. "These are street cameras, allows us to see quite a lot of what's happening up there."

"This must have cost a bunch to set up. I am impressed. We really gotta rig you a proper electric grid though. Backup and the like. And clean the place up. We got the space to set up a proper HQ here." She said with a nod, looking over his shoulder at the screens while she picked apart a nine millimeter pistol and cleaned every part methodically.

"The bad guys paid for it!" Given their line of work, James and Milo didn't exactly get paid in legal means. They had to get what money they could manage and most of the time drug lords and ring leaders possessed a lot of bills in their pockets. "Hey, all of your additions are welcome!" James pitched in, a usual bright smile appearing on his face. "Before Milo met me, I was new to all of this. I got involved with some bad people and well, he ended up saving me. Milo's not exactly....well...human? I mean, he's human but he's not really like us, I guess. Shit, how am I supposed to explain this? Uhm...alright, to not make it sound like complete insanity...he was created to be a weapon." Tapping his chin, James turned his sights to Milo who was still sleeping deeply. The bullets to his skull had taken a toll on him and he'd need the rest. "He's not fifteen like you thought at the restaurant. He's actually thirty two. Yeah, he doesn't look it, does he?" James chukled once more, crossing his arms as he leaned back on his computer chair. "He regenerates."

"Oh." She frowned. "Well shit." She looked at Milo. "Explains the no talking part. If I was stuck in puberty, I'd never talk again." She said as she put down the now once more assembled nine millimeter and picked up a Israeli Uzi, doing the same procedure with it as the gun.

"Human weapon huh? Explains what I saw him pull off." She said. "Shit aint right, experimenting on kids."
She said the last part with noticable venom in her voice. "If you ever gonna hit the fuckers that did it to him. I'll back you up."[/color]

"Heh, thanks for the offer, Kaya." James responded, placing his feet on the desk, besides the keyboard. "I don't know if it's a plus or not, or if it makes it better or worse, but the reason why I said that he's not exactly human is because he's technically artifical. He was never born." Tapping his biceps with his fingers, the young man continued as he asbentmindedly gazed upont he screen. "The way you see him now is the same way he looked the day he was created. Though, don't worry about the no talking part. He talks more once he warms up to you. He might have been created to be a killing machine but he's still a person. Milo can actually be really...sweet, I guess." Lowering his feet to the ground, James walked over to a sink attached to the wall, filling up a glass placed on the metallic surface. "Once he gets to know you, you might even get a hug." James laughed, shaking his head softly. "The guy's fulll of surprises. But one thing's for sure. He'll always have your back. Speaking of what he pulled off, though...what about you? You're obviously military."

"10 plus years in the military" She said as she put down the uzi and started on what looked to be a SWAT issue Heckler and Koch. "I served in special forces for most of it. But things went south when we went to Burma. We were there to dispose of some people aiming to overthrow the fledgling democracy. We got ambushed and my... gift surfaced. Turns out I have some sort of connection with this supernatural force." She shrugge. "I know jack shit about its purpose, all I know is that I left the military to come home and look for answer." She put the gun down, it wasn't fully assembled yet, unlike the other two. Her hands gripped the edge of the table until her knuckled whitened. "Only to find my old hood be run by fucking Triads. Everyone of my friend were dead, my parents to. 15 years is a long time to be gone. And it is more then enough time to lose everything you have."[/color]

"Shit, that's rough..." James offered, leaning against the wall as his fingers gripped the glass of cold water. Kaya's story obviously prevented him from drinking, his mind travelling elsewhere. "Milo and I are all the family we have, really. We've been together for a few years now. Heh, I guess you could say he's like a brother to me." A soft smile crept across the young man's lips. "We've been running the hero gig ever since we met, though we've yet to run into the Triad. Until today, that is." Finally downing the water, James placed the empty glass next to the sink before taking a deep breath. "I believe I speak for the both of us when I say that Milo and I will happily help you out, Kaya. Taking on the Triad is probably a difficult task. You'll need all the help you can get. Concerning your power...My only power is hacking shit on a computer. Milo's the one you want to talk to about those things." With a bright smile returning to his face, James placed his hands by his hips and appeared to have regained spirits previously lost in response to Kaya's story. "You're no longer running solo! Milo and I will be with you on this!"

"What a trio we make huh" She spoke with a soft suckle before running a hand trough her thick tresses. "Triads are not to fuck with. I have been hitting them randomly, avoiding a pattern. But I am not as much as denting their operations. That is about to change."[/color] She grinned at James. "Think you can get into the Dock Unions servers?"

Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Shard
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Shard

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Lost Haven, Slums


"Thoughts can be a maze..."


Slowly opening his eyes to the dim surroundings called home, Milo brought a hand to his face and softly rubbed his visage to wake him from the slumber he had embrace. Turning his eyes downwards, a soft sigh escaped his lips as he gently placed his feet on the ground and dusted off the bed. "Fell asleep in my clothes again..." A neatfreak to say the least, Milo quite hated dragging in dirt from the outside world, especially into his bed. As it was, his clothes were also rather torn and he felt overall disgusting. James rarely ever commented on the strife seen upon Milo's frame after missions had been accomplished simply because he had grown so used to the sight. If it wasn't the young swordsman's blood staining his clothes, it was someone else's.

Kaya and James appeared to be having a conversation and whether they noticed Milo or not, the boy's silent footsteps brought him towards the bathroom where he slipped out of his clothes and turned on the hot warmth of the water stream. Leaning against the tile wall, a gentle breath escaped him as the boy closed his eyes behind bangs covering them. It had been an eventful day, something which had brought in a second ally. Would she remain? Only time would tell, though she appeared to be the honest type. Too rough to be conniving and too blunt to be deceiving, Kaya was someone Milo thought he could trust but he had been wrong before. Only time would tell, as it was.

Reaching for the shampoo bottle, strawberry scented, Milo applied the liquid to his hair and made sure to remove the scent of battle from his frame before finally stepping out of the shower and dried up. Opening a basket with clean clothes situated by the shower, the boy slipped into a pair of casual shorts and a t-shirt before heading back into the basement where Kaya and James were still talking. Though, their conversation reached an end once James dropped down in front of his computer and allowed his fingers to dance across the keyboard like he so often did. One window after the other opened upon the screen, various numbers stretching from one end to the other, each one holding a meaning understood by the young hacker but traveled past Milo's head with ease. "Oh, hey Milly!" James raised his hand in greeting for a brief moment before he continued with his work. "How are you feeling? You usually sleep for much longer."

"Wasn't very comfortable..." Sleeping in a set of used clothes stained with blood did have a knack of disturbing desired comfort, but clad in a pair of shorts and a thin t-shirt, discomfort was a foreign concept at the moment. "What about her...?" Milo continued, turning to look at Kaya as she worked on her various guns by the sofa.

"She appears to be a really good person. I'm sure you two will get along."

"Alright..." The boy finished, his eyes curiously scanning the newly arrived companion now sharing a home with the two. Approaching his bed once more, Milo crawled atop the mattress and brought his naked feet onto the soft foundation before reaching for his iPod. A usual sight indeed, Milo could often be seen with music in his ears and his eyes in a book. Despite his years far surpassing his appearance, Milo would often claim that there was so much he had never experienced, so much he had never seen. In truth, he had lived a very narrowed life. Sights, feelings and experiences traveled him by without as much as a pat on the shoulder. Sometimes he would ask James of the world, of what it's like out there in the vast reality called life. Though, Milo would have to be satisfied with a lackluster response as James himself rowed in the same boat. Even with eternity waiting ahead, Milo couldn't help but feel trapped in a rut at times, the thought of an endless future quite fearsome to imagine. James would eventually be gone and what would that leave?

Closing the book in his hands, a heavy sigh left the boy's lips as he desperately raised the volume of his music in an attempt to escape the thoughts banging at the very fabric of his being. "Why is this an issue...?" The thought spearheaded the images in Milo's mind. "None of this is important..." He continued, silence surrounding him despite the music blasting into his ears. "I've known all of this since the start. What changed...?" Perhaps one could call it attachment? A childish notion to some, a weakness to others and a distraction to so many, would the brotherly feelings developed for James lead to dark omens? It was commonly said that the life of a hero left no room for friends and loved ones, but if that was the case, what was the point? "The greater good..." A sentence one would utter for oneself over and over again in a repeated chant until belief struck it with a sure shot, every hero requires an anchor. Some fought for their families and others for the good of the world but it left Milo in a state of confusion.

Many years passed since the day of his creation and even though the thought came and went, it always left a piece behind, a question of why. A small question of why would later develop into a question of identity and even existence. Though years had passed since the thoughts knocked on the back of his head, Milo was starting to feel the knocking cracking small holes in the barrier he had built. Milo wasn't an empty creature, a shell, who hunted down blood soaked criminals in a self proclaimed crusade because he had nothing else to define his purpose with, was he? Was he...?

Clenching his teeth at the notion, Milo pulled on a pair of socks and slid his feet into his shoes. "I'm going out..." Replacing the comfort of wool shorts were a pair of black cargo pants. This walk wasn't supposed to be one of comfort but clarity. Placing his beloved blade in a sword bag, the boy would sling the weapon over his shoulder and started towards the door.

"Alright, don't be too long." James returned, keeping his eyes on the screen. Without an answer, Milo opened the path to the outside world and set foot beyond the threshold of protection and serenity. Many years of suppressed insecurity was bombarding him at once and walking beneath the free sky was a refreshing sensation indeed.
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