Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Eklispe
Raw
coGM
Avatar of Eklispe

Eklispe SSP

Member Seen 4 mos ago

Sofia Stien - Train yard


Sofia listened with a great sense of unease as the evil Chatterbox continued speaking. A two person act? Was he suggesting that they work with the evil Chatterhead and... wait had he said 'Come along Sofia' and walk away. That was her name! There was an evil Sofia too? That. But. Sofia felt a flurry of conflicting emotion with everything that was happening and weakly held on to Chatterhead as he continued walking, hopefully away from the evil twins. At his command, which Sofia listened carefully to, to make sure it wasn't the evil Chatterhead trying to trick her, she opened her eyes.

Chatterhead told her he would let go, but Sofia clung to his hand for a moment longer as he tried to pull away before reluctantly letting go. Sofia didn't want to let go and wasn't sure why he was making her, but trusted him to know what was best. She quickly wrapped her arms around herself and looked around nervously. The building they were just in was in rubble and this horrible smell was wafting through the air, causing Sofia to wrinkle her nose and look away. Headhunter and Chatterhead began talking. After it seemed like he was done talking Sofia spoke up shyly, her arms still locked in a hug around herself "Can we hold hands again?" Realistically she wasn't much safer with Chatterhead then she was on her own. But it made her feel better.
1x Like Like
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Lugubrious
Raw
Avatar of Lugubrious

Lugubrious Makes the big edits

Member Seen 1 hr ago

Like a dying beast, set aflame by its fervent pursuers, the trainyard warehouse let out a final roar before falling to pieces, its insides too incinerated to support its own weight. Margrave, not yet quite gone from the scene alongside his fellow Wards, turned back to gaze into the inferno. Even from here, he could feel the heat on the hairs on his face. What a day—even his imagination could not conjure a clever turn of phrase to describe it any further.

With any flight of fancy wasted, then, Elliot turned his attention to his allies. To put it simply, both Lillian and Alessa were in awful condition, and Evelyn -who joined them a short while after the initial rendezvous- seemed...disturbed. Elliot frowned, eyebrows furrowed. If what she'd seen left her shocked, he didn't know what to say to her. The only path that lay before her, a valley through the depths of this trauma and out onto the plains of inner peace, was to recollect the shattered pieces and forge them together into something stronger. Fighting for what was right, Elliot knew, was not the glorious heroism of cartoons and comic books, but suffering; it was knowing that you would never make a difference in thwarting the evil of the world, and more than likely die nameless, but forging ahead anyway. This was reality. If the Wards didn't know it already, today's events would be a fitting introduction.

While examining Evelyn, Elliot realized how tired he, too, felt. Holding himself together, he continued to help his teammates over to the PRT van, so that they might all be ferried homeward. Only when sure that his aid would no longer be required did the young man allow the haze to overtake him, resting his eyes as he labored to steady his breath.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by solokolos
Raw
Avatar of solokolos

solokolos

Member Seen 1 yr ago


The young tinker noticed again that her mask was missing, and this time it stuck. A loud sigh escaped her lips. She climbed into the the PRT van, and found herself sitting next to Elliot. He sat down, and slowly fell asleep beside her. It was understandable, it'd been a long day. Ira watched him go from awake to fully asleep, feeling a stab of guilt that she knew already belonged to Decoy. She wanted to tell him, to wake him up and tell him the atrocities he had committed. The fact that she couldn't speak made her respect and hate Decoy that much more. Ira rested her head against the back of the van, her eyes sliding shut against her will. She tried to fight it, forcing her eyes back open, only to have them close a few seconds later. It was in vain, a deep dreamless slumber overtook her.

Nora

Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by ProPro
Raw
GM
Avatar of ProPro

ProPro Pierce the Heavens with your spoon!

Member Seen 1 yr ago



The Wards and PRT soldiers made their way back to the tactical response vehicle, leaving behind a broken wreck of a building. The flames still roared with life, but weren't in any danger of spreading. The local fire department was already on the way, and nothing nearby was flammable. Perhaps it was best the whole thing went up in smoke. If the building remained standing, it could serve as an... Unfortunate reminder to the young heroes. A reminder of what had happened. Of what they had lost. At least one of them had a firm grasp on the true horrors that went down, but Decoy had all but given her the order not to speak up. The burden was no doubt a weighty one.

Before leaving, they had to ensure that the location was secure and locked down. A number of PRT vehicles arrived to aid the firefighters, mostly by setting up a perimeter. The sight had attracted a not so insignificant crowd. Civilians tried to get an idea of what was going on, to catch a glimpse of their favorite heroes, but found it was for naught. The Wards were secure in the van, and weren't coming back out. Lieutenant Reynolds had assumed command and ordered they hold their position. So the vehicle began the short, but still painfully slow journey back to PRT headquarters. The teens had been left alone with nothing but their own thoughts, unless they dared to make conversation on the way back. It would have been awkward though, with private Skeetz and Overlook strapped down on a fold out bed table between them.

Once they arrived, the Wards were marched up to the main conference room in order to debrief the mission. Master protocols were in effect, thanks to Lillian's warning, so each Ward was required to provide a predetermined password before entering. Meanwhile, Overlook and Skeetz were brought to the medical bay for treatment of their wounds. Once the teens had taken their seats, they were joined by Director Kens, and one of Decoy's holographic interfaces. Even though Protean had prepped them for the infiltration, he was noticeably absent. That was to be expected, as he had joined Inkscape and Hermes for their own assignment. Apparently it was still ongoing.

The director began to speak, circling around the room with his hands crossed behind his back. His mannerisms made it abundantly clear that the man was quite upset, and while the rage threatened to boil over, he never lost his composure when addressing the Wards. "The preliminary report sent in by Lieutenant Reynolds on your way back has not exactly been inspiring great confidence. What what I can tell, everything that can go wrong, did. The building has been burned to the ground, so we lost all evidence your team had been sent in to secure. One of you suddenly attacked your team. Somehow a noncombatant support analyst wound up in the middle of a firefight, and to make matters worse the villains that are responsible for hospitalizing both Noble and Captain Morales were on site, and got away. We were not expecting the additional party involved, and for that-" Kens paused to glare daggers at the Decoy hologram, which did not react in any manner. "I blame our initial information gathering. But something happened once your team arrived. Make no mistake, none of you are being blamed for anything, but this is a serious loss. Both in terms of law enforcement, and in terms of PR. God knows the Youth Guard will be jumping up my ass for this debacle. So tell me what happened, Wards. Speak up. Margrave? Tulpa? Messiah? I need to hear what you all have to say on this matter."





The Jacks: Double Trouble, Back to Base!

@yoshua171@BCTheEntity@Eklispe@floodtalon@Old Amsterdam


The Chatterbox duplicate laughed at Heartless's question. When he answered, he made sure to keep his power active in full blast. "My friend, why don't I dissolve your suspicions right now by simply admitting that I am the newcomer? The 'second' Chatterbox, the one not native to this... I guess you could call it a reality? Yes, this reality. Your Chatterbox setup that password system specifically to help identify against me, but it wouldn't have done any good if I had decided to play along. We share the same brain, the same memories, diverging only at the exact moment I was brought into existence here on this reality, so naturally I already know the proper response would have been 'Green Fever.'"

He released his Sofia's hand and urged her to open her eyes. The Sofia duplicate seemed to be cautious, but she slowly did so. As this occurred, the original Chatterbox was warning Headhunter of the dangers of his doppelganger. The duplicate narrowed his eyes a bit in frustration as he saw himself speaking with the mercenary. He could tell by the body language what was going on. Not the specifics of course, but he knew that it couldn't have been good for him and his Sofia. "Salutations again, native Chatterbox!" he called out, waving his arm. "If you are having any thoughts of setting up some sort of violent precautions, I should advise against such civil discourse."

To prove his point, the Chatterbox duplicate produced his pack of metal playing cards, completely identical to the ones Drake made use of. He pulled out one of the cards, and, taking a deep breath to brace for the pain, stabbed a metal corner into the back of his wrist. He broke the skin, drawing blood, but it was a shallow cut, nothing to be too bothered by. Yet simultaneously the original Drake Vettman felt a sharp pain in his own wrist. A single glance would tell him everything he needed to know. The injury reflected from the copy and onto him.

"You see, I am completely open about joining forces. My Sofia and I have been displaced from our own cosmos by one of those Overrun clones. As soon as we arrived we were given a mental directive, to kill our duplicates, but as you can see we haven't even attempted such a garish fiasco! That behavior would be unbecoming, would it not? So instead why don't we all go back to the hideout together, yet? Two Chatterboxes and two Whimsys are certainly better than one. The possibilities of expansion are, well, doubled. Wouldn't you agree?" Almost as if he had timed it perfectly, the getaway ride that Chatterbox, the original, had called for pulled in right next to the duplicate. He opened the door to the back and made an exaggerated gesture with his arm. "After you, dear Jacks."
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Flood
Raw
Avatar of Flood

Flood Cyber-Phantasy Knight

Member Seen 2 yrs ago



Heartless immediately went for his gun as the Chatterbox duplicate confirmed who he was, but was stopped by a crucial fact. Any injuries that this Chatterbox received would transfer to the other Chatterbox. His hand hovered near the gun as he deeply considered whether or not it was worth it to just call him on his bluff and shoot him in the face, but unfortunately they needed Chatterbox. Which meant this incredibly dangerous double from another... reality was coming with them. A convenient van pulled up right next to them, signaling it was time to head out. But Heartless had one last thing to say as he stepped into the getaway vehicle. "Just so we're clear, if it was up to me I would just shoot you in the face right now and get this whole fucking mess over with. Unfortunately it's not, but I sure as hell don't have to listen to you vomit out your bullshit. So if you keep talking, I'm going to have Thunderbolt break your jaw." With that being said Heartless hopped into the back of the van and motioned for Thunderbolt to follow. It was going to be a long night for the Jacks.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Old Amsterdam
Raw
coGM
Avatar of Old Amsterdam

Old Amsterdam Coven Witch

Member Seen 1 yr ago

Jason



Jason shook his head, really out of his depth with all this.

"Well, look, obviously we don't really have a choice here, do we? You're connected through some shit, and you're not being.... An issue. And we're out of time," he said loud enough for everyone to hear over the incoming sounds of various sirens. "You do still have the package, don't you?" he'd mutter to Heartless after the mention of breaking a jaw.

Before he moved, he watched Headhunter act and connected the dots. Don't trust the copy. Got it.

His fist stuck out like lightning, his fighting reflexes coming into effect as he clocked the CopyBoxTM right in the bloody kisser hard enough to stagger him. Headhunter jumped to restrain him, and Jason approached the copy of Sofia. "Sorry, kiddo. Can I carry you and the original without any fuss? Make up for what just happened?"

He looked back up. "If you're not in a vehicle in the next fifteen seconds, you're being left behind. We're out of time."





Lieutenant Reynolds had performed basic medical aid to Lillian during the ride, able to at least stop the bleeding.

She might have a concussion. She hurt. Everything was wrong. Lillian remained latched onto Alessa's hand as they gave their passcodes before gaining entrance back into the PRT HQ.
"What's the monkey's secret?"

"All that glitters is not golden." she'd replied simply.

Now they were in debrief, and Lillian had tossed her mask into a trashcan on the way in. She still had a hand latched onto Alessa's as she stared numbly at the ceiling.

Her voice was surprisingly strong as she spoke up suddenly. "I was...I wasn't ready yet. There was already Parahumans there and that Master just... Made it worse. I mucked up. I let them get to me, and then I wasn't any use when Troll and her lackey attacked and I'm sorry I failed everyone." She was crying slightly now, unable to look at anyone as she continued. "Things got worse, and there was just too many.... So many bodies... Clones..."

Wiping her face on the back of her hand, she took a shaky breath. "It was...I wasn't...7 villains. And the one shadowy one saved my life. Just..."

She glanced at Alessa before continuing. "I'm scared I'm going to lose this, all of you, because of that. I wanna stay."
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Gardevoiran
Raw
Avatar of Gardevoiran

Gardevoiran The Forbidden One

Member Seen 18 days ago

Kendall - A Doctor's Visit
feat. Kendall's father

"Well, Mr. Banks, things have definitely improved with your little girl. She's a lot better than the last few times I've seen her, that's for sure."

"Is there anything new that I should understand?" Mr. Banks asks with his hat in his lap. He had taken time out of his work day to come take Kendall to the doctor, as per the usual checkups that they had to schedule because of Kendall.

"Off the top of my head, there are three. The first one is that she's a pretty tough kid. I actually hadn't noted this before, but it seems she heals at an increased rate." The doctor stroked his beard as he paced the room back and forth while explaining. "I had a bit of the tar from her vomit sent to the labs at the Protectorate for analysis. I think the tar she's made of has some kind of chemical in it that allows for hastened regeneration." The doctor took a quick pause before continuing on his tangent.

"Two. Her vomit is no longer containing any bile in it. For the most part, it is just the tar that makes up her body. It seems she has a reserve of it built up within her that she draws from whenever she vomits. Interesting, but it's still just a theory that I'm working on understanding-" The doctor was interrupted by Mr. Banks. "Y-you mean that she's finally free from the vomit as well?" The doctor shook his head as an answer to Mr. Banks. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Banks. Her vomit is still appearing, but - has she taken her anti-nausea medicine today, perchance?"

"No sir."

"As she told me alone. She's not vomiting as much as before, and even when off the anti-nausea, she's vomiting much rarer now. It's definitely an improvement on maintaining her body weight at a... relatively normal level," The doctor turned to Mr. Banks before continuing. "She's a tad bit underweight. Likely due to the anti-nausea medicine causing her appetite to decrease."

Mr. Banks sighed with relief. "So... she's good then? Nothing too out of the ordinary?"

The doctor stopped pacing before he looked at Mr. Banks. "That's number three. She's definitely improving, yes, but there are still concerns that I have on her well being. Now, she expressed interest in joining the Protectorate as a Ward, and I'll be happy to sign off on the paperwork for y-" Another interruption from Mr. Banks popped into the room. "No sir. We're just... we're not ready to say goodbye to our daughter just yet. At least, I think the wife wouldn't be okay with me making the decision alone."

The doctor frowned before returning to a normal expression. "I guess parents know best. Well, the offer is always on the table if you are interested. I'm going to go back into the room and meet with her before I send her back to you to take home."

The doctor re-entered the examination room as Kendall's face lit up with glee. "So? Did he say yes?" Kendall bounced on the examination bench as she eagerly awaited for the doctor to answer her question.

"He said no, sadly. Though, he looked pretty bummed about that answer, so there's still hope for you yet!" The doctor answered the tarry 14 year old with a smile on his face. "I think he'd be happy to let you join, but he wants your mother here to give the final word."

Kendall's face melted into a small frown. "Awww. Mom's always a party pooper, she'll never go for it." Kendall's hair was ruffled by the doctor as he spoke to her again. "Hey, cheer up champ. There's still some hope for you."

Standing up, the doctor began writing a few things down as Kendall went behind the screen in the room to change from the hospital gown into her normal clothes. Kendall's voice talked in a hushed tone as she spoke to the doctor. "Does he know about Mastar?"

The doctor raises his head up at the question, but remained staring forward as to respect Kendall's privacy. "Mastar? Kendall, you aren't Mastar!" the doctor said sarcastically. Kendall walked out from behind the screen afterwards as she finished putting her shirt back on. "Thank you for keeping that between us. I'd be grounded for years if they found that out." The doctor winked at her before he spoke once again. "Doctor-Patient Confidentiality. Though, I should really tell them since you're under 18..."

"Nooo pleeeasseee!" Kendall grabbed the doctor's arm as she begged. "I really like being a herooooo!"

"Well... alright. I'll keep it under lock for a little longer. If you join the Wards, though, we need to act like I never knew. Got it?"

"Got it! Thank you doc!"
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by solokolos
Raw
Avatar of solokolos

solokolos

Member Seen 1 yr ago


The thing that fully woke Ira was being asked for her passcode. The young intern glanced down at his sheet as Ira approached, and struggled visibily. "The prompt is. . . Um I-I can't pronounce it," he mumbled, pressing on the mic clipped to his chest. She sighed, and spoke up.

"Aleph, Dalet, Dalet, Aleph. Stuck between the devil and the sea. Umm one is The monarch of never forgiving? I have a couple more, but I'd need the prompt you can't read." She said, seeming more sassy than usual. He nodded hastily as a voice buzzed in his ear. Ira continued on, arms crossed and pressed against her chest.

"It was in japanese!" She heard him mumble behind him, incredulous.

Zoning out, she came to when the director spoke up. She listened carefully, and then kistened to Lillian's hasty response. Ira set her head on the table in front of her. "Get me out of this. We need to talk, you said it yourself." She said into her mic, just quiet enough that the director would not hear.

Hermes:
Laying the Groundwork

Jaunt groaned along with Inkscape, getting more tired of the quips every second. Ignoring Protean as best he could, he instead focused on the door. "I don't feel comfortable teleporting right inside that door, so we probably should take it head on. I don't wanna get mixed up, if you catch my drift" Jaunt said, glancing between the two of them with vague interest. He moved out of the way, looking at Inkscape's handiwork with a concerned look scribbled across his face. A bit more quesy at the sight than most would expect a former policeman and mercenary to be.

Inkscape nodded, motioning for Protean to open the door and for Hermes to flank the opposite side as he was standing.

Inside was abandoned, a control room full of screens and mechanical equipment. It was a little cold, maybe sixty degrees Fahrenheit, with a slight whirling sound underneath the electrical buzz.

The room was darker than the rest of the warehouse had been, both because of the black equipment and walls. The lights were stunning greens and blues, blinding to at.

In all the mechanical, electrical vibe of the room there was exactly one thing that stood out.

A vanilla envelope sat off to the side, plain as it could be.

Following the hand motions quickly, he flanked, and once the two were inside, took a more aggressive position by teleporting ahead of them. Spotting the envelope, he said out loud "I should bring that to somewhere secure shouldn't I?" he knew most of what people expected of him. He watched his two teammates, power ready on the "mentally push to teleport" phase that would close the distance, then put him in a vacant holding cell at the PHQ, envelope in hand.

"Yes. We're extracting, that's what we're here for." Inkscape said in his calm voice.

"That's it, really? I expected something a little more.... Important looking?"

Jaunt teleported partway through the word yes, appearing in the room after a short pause with the envelope in hand. "Mind if I take a look with you Decoy?" He asked, looking up at the camera over his shoulder. His hand gripped its bottom right hand corner, and as he waited for a response, he studied the plain looking thing.

Jaunt's comm went off. "Hermes, there a situation that we need to address. Good job tonight, go ahead and head home. Protean and I will handle getting that Intel processed."

No fun. Jaunt tossed the envelope on the table, and activited his mic. "Copy that. He said, activating his power again. Gone, he would disappear off the cameras, and three minutes later he was in his home, taking off his new costume. There was an empty spot where his other costume used to be, the safe fully open. He tossed the gun into the closet. Investigating it during his off hours had revealed it didn't even have a firing pin. It made him feel safer that they trusted him not to replace it.

On his bed was a single piece of paper, folded so that it stood up perfectly without falling over from any idle air movements. In flawless script he could see "Jaunt" written on it in black ink.

Picking it up, a short message was wrote in the same perfect script.

You are to find and deliver the man known as Gamble to me.

-C


Playtime was over, it seemed. The chase began. He picked up his cellphone, and typed the numbers quickly. "Hey, it's Jaunt. I'd like to call in a favor.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Lugubrious
Raw
Avatar of Lugubrious

Lugubrious Makes the big edits

Member Seen 1 hr ago

Elliot's stupor, half contemplation on the night's events and half nigh-comatose delirium, remained throughout his stony-faced, staff-assisted stroll, up until the moment he recognized what was about to happen. Like a bolt from the blue it pierced his haze, and devious smirk overtook his features despite the fatigues that kneaded his mind.

From the staff member offering the prompts, there came a muffled groan of disbelief as Elliot appeared before him. After a moment, the agonized voice asked him, “Isn't it past your bedtime?”

Before a nanosecond could pass Elliot burst forth with a breathtaking tirade.

“What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.”

Pure malice dripped from the operator's words as he snarled, “Go on ahead. Asshole.”

Elliot looked as though he'd made the single greatest achievement the world had ever known. His face, somewhere between a goofball's idiotic grin and the expression of unmitigated bliss an exhausted man sliding into a hot tub ought to wear, signaled a man thoroughly pleased with himself. “Hahah. Aren't the passcodes great? And totally necessary?” He then trudged into the meeting room, seated himself, and steeled himself to face Director Kens.

He kept quiet, his face pronouncedly less self-satisfied as it had been when he entered, while Lillian, teary-eyed, said her piece. Since nobody else seemed eager to make sure Kens was off their back, Elliot decided to weigh in next, his voice grim. “Don't know the full story, but yeah, we weren't the only ones with eyes on that place. Some loony woman...uh, Troll, was it? She sicced some freakazoid on us who could make clones that got their own random powers. That backed us and the Community bozos into a corner, so everyone went nuts trying to survive.” A pitying look went Lily's way after that, though not in intentional connection his previous statement. Elliot couldn't call himself a compassionate antihero, but he felt bad that Lily seemed to be taking everything so personally. This mess wasn't her fault any more than it was his—and in no conceivable reality was it his fault. Saying anything construable as gushy now, however, while under review of the Director, did not seem wise.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by BCTheEntity
Raw
Avatar of BCTheEntity

BCTheEntity m⊕r✞IS

Member Seen 19 days ago

Alessa Heather: Trainyard --> PRT HQ

The drive back passed in a bit of a blur for Alessa. Her leg was treated by medical staff in the van, though she insisted that Lillian, Overlook, and Private Skeetz receive treatment first until the medic realised she was sitting in a slowly-growing puddle of blood. She felt that didn’t matter so much. Everyone else’s injuries were worse. Alessa was just tired.

By the time they’d gotten back, she was bandaged up and able to walk about as well as she could hope. Lillian insisted on holding her hand throughout the walk through the building, and after she’d given her passcode, Alessa was asked ‘The fire leaves me heart’, to which she responded ‘Yet I shall never leave your side.’ Her voice shook slightly as she said it, but it remained steady enough to allow her access alongside Lily nonetheless.

Then came Director Kens’ rant. He’d never unleash his fury directly upon them, she knew. He wasn’t that sort of person. It was clear how upset the whole situation was making him, though... and of course he had every right to be upset. They’d failed. She had failed. It wasn’t an acceptable standard to hold herself to.

Before she could say anything, Lillian replied to Kens with an impressive speech. Clearly, something had happened other than Dean’s appearance to greatly upset her, and Alessa wasn’t sure if she could help the poor girl get over it.

Dean was dead. Him and hundreds of his fake yet far-too-real clones.

She had to stop herself gagging at the thought. Jesus Christ, so much blood.

Had Ira said something under her breath? She’d stopped paying attention briefly. Unacceptable.

By contrast, she heard every word of Elliot’s input, and that was the first thing said in the meeting that actually got her significantly more upset than before. Was that how casually he’d dismiss a former teammate? Because if it was, then he really did deserve the surname “Prat”- no, no, that wasn’t fair to him, he might not... he might not even...

‘Oh my God, you don’t know who it was,’ she concluded out loud, her voice and her look in his direction, all directions, a mixture of distress and, for the first time that day, intense anger. ‘That “freakazoid” was Dean, Elliot. Troll’s “lackey” was Dean, Overrun was Dean. Do you remember Dean, folks? Not Lillian, she had no reason to recognise him, but anyone else? Because I sure do, all three hundred and sixty-odd days of his friendship before he vanished. He died, by the way. He died right in front of me. He-’

A second of hyperventilation was strangled before she continued more somberly.

‘He was shot. I think he was, anyway, because whatever killed him sounded like a cannon. He turned to paste and gore right in front of me. It was... there... all the... and the rest...’

Inhale, slowly. Exhale, slowly. Breath, Alessa.

Oh, she was covered in blood. That was new.

Some of it was probably the real Dean’s, come to think of it.

‘I set the warehouse on fire,’ she admitted as calmly as she could, staring into the distance as she spoke, just to move on from the topic of nonononono keep talking keep talking. ‘Something smashed into Lillian. I vaporised it, and then I hit half the building with a beam of fire to save Tulpa from being beaten to death. I didn’t think, I was caught up in... with my...’

Breath. Keep talking. It’s fine.

‘...and that’s why it’s no longer standing. That’s why the evidence is gone, Director Kens.’ Now she faced him directly, her resolve set. She was the leader here. She had to take responsibility for what happened. ‘Everyone else is relatively blameless. I’m the one the rest of the team ought to be taking examples from, and yet how can they when I do stupid things like that?

‘So, please, sir,’ she begged him, ‘if you intend to punish anyone... just punish me. Give me everyone’s punishments combined if you must, just don’t blame them when I’m the one who ruined the operation in the end.’ And she had, hadn’t she? All else excluded, the warehouse would still be standing and the evidence undamaged if she hadn’t freaked out. She deserved to be punished for her misdeed. It was only just.




Raymond Haywood: Trainyard

Raymond nodded politely as Chatterbox instructed him on what to do to identify the real Chatterbox, considering that it’d be a good plan to know what the power's effects felt like, yet painfully aware that if the primary Chatterbox and his clone shared similar memories, then chances were the clone would also know of Raymond’s false name, since he’d given it before anything else. In which case, he needed to give out a new name, completely new...

‘It was actually Devin Crash,’ he muttered to Chatterbox, any mouth movements hidden by his mask. ‘And I might take a separate van to everyone else, if you don’t mind.’ Hopefully, the man would be savvy enough to recognise what he was doing and why; otherwise, he couldn’t help him. That said, now was probably a good time to do as he asked and stop the clone from continuing to chatter at the last two of the Jacks.

Yet chatter he did, and as Headhunter, Chatterbox and Whimsy approached the two real and two fake Jacks, the clone Chatterbox explained how he and his partner were linked, and then explained that supposedly, he was more than willing to team up with the rest of the Jacks in pursuit of even greater fame and fortune than before. Raymond considered the thought, and decided that it was perfectly reasonable to consider.

Which was a problem, because he suspected that if that Chatterbox were using his power on him, a lot of things would sound perfectly reasonable, especially if they were small suggestions like that. In other words, he had to be utterly vigilant. He’d personally witnessed the real Chatterbox turn the fool Gamble into his pliant minion in less than an hour; if he didn’t stop him talking now, he and the others might wind up the blabbermouth’s thrall before the day was out- ah, Blabbermouth. A good alternate reference for the clone, perhaps accompanying a synonym for Whimsy… he’d do some research in that regard, he supposed.

Yet it seemed his spell was already quite ingrained into both Heartless and Thunderbolt. Heartless threatened him, but didn’t so much as grapple him, and Thunderbolt didn’t even dare to touch him. That wasn’t acceptable; he had to act as soon as possible, or they’d all be lost, and he already had an idea of how to do it. The order of instructions would be important, too... yes, that should work.

As he moved toward the would-be escape van, Headhunter had no choice but to pass Blabbermouth and his smug face, gesturing as he was. He did not get into the van immediately, but instead walked slowly enough to stall until he heard the second van's near approach. It was then that he acted; quite abruptly, he booted the clone Sofia in the chest and stomach, knocking her into the van and ideally winding her. The real Sofia would suffer that indignity as well, but no matter. He supposed he'd make up for it later on, somehow.

Immediately after his boot had connected, Headhunter wrapped an arm round Blabbermouth’s chest and upper arms, yanked him away from his cloned partner, and called out ‘Heartless, Thunderbolt, help me gag him; Sofia, when you recover, stop your clone,’ at the same time ripping the glove off of the hand holding Blabbermouth in place and attempting to force it into the boy’s mouth. Admittedly, this was helped by Thunderbolt finally being useful and throwing a fist into the side of Blabbermouth's head, dazing him and his alternate self at once, but not knocking them out cold. A fantasy of many detractors of "James", he was sure - punching two of him at once.

In combination with something to stop him spitting it out, worst case scenario the still-army-gloved and thus biteproof hand presently over Blabbermouth's jaw, the clone of Chatterbox would now be depowered enough that Raymond and co. could haul him with minimal resistance to whichever other van the real Chatterbox had called forth and have them drive back to the location separately; Raymond’s own body armour ought to stop Blabbermouth from trying anything funny with any amount of success, and if he was lucky, Sofia would be able to stop herself from saving her ally from what amounted to being kidnapped.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Eklispe
Raw
coGM
Avatar of Eklispe

Eklispe SSP

Member Seen 4 mos ago

Sofia Stien - Train yard


Sofia tried her best to pay attention to what was going on as evil Chatterhead kept talking. They were... linked? Sofia spent a moment pondering this as Thunderbird and Heartless gave their responses. She didn't quite know what to do. Of course she didn't get to spend much time thinking it over because there was a sudden pressure in her chest and Sofia dropped the ground with a pitiful whimper, hands reaching to her stomach. Why? Headhunter was a 34 year old man trained in killing people and was very fit. Sofia on the other hand, was a 15 year old girl who ate like a bird and hadn't so much as participated in sports. It was very clear that a kick from the larger party would involve the smaller party losing their ability to function properly for a good minute and that's just about what Sofia did. She was practically keeled over on the ground alternating between gasping and coughing for breath. Her eyes, and thus herself, were closed off to the world even as tears leaked out of them; far too preoccupied at the moment to listen to, much less carry out Headhunter's orders.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by yoshua171
Raw
Avatar of yoshua171

yoshua171 The Loremaster

Member Seen 15 hrs ago

Chatterbox


Headhunter's response was novel and he nodded in acknowledgement of it. However, he just couldn't break his vigil on his duplicate. He knew part of that was the ramping effect of the aggravating imbecil's power, but still he had to keep an eye on him. Then, a thought occured to him. Making sure he was in full sight of the team—which was very easy given everyone's position—he took both hands to part of his costume's quality fabric...and violently tore it in a vertical direction. Then there was a sharp pain in his arm as a wound opened up. He gasped and used the cloth he'd torn off to wrap the wound. Just as he finished and was about to act, he felt Sophia's grip on him vanish. Head snapping to the side he saw her collapse to the ground. He moved to help, concern flashing over his features, followed swiftly by pain against the side of his skull.

"Agh!" He saw stars and everything went fuzzy except the sharp throbbing pain in his temple and ear and neck. Whatever they did with him, CB did his best to help the Jacks hoist him into a car. God that had really fucking hurt. He hoped that Broker would have a way to deal with this idiot clone and that they had managed to gag the fucker.

By the time they arrived back at headquarters he would have regained his composure, though his head still hurt badly. He would talk not at all until addressed by Broker. Hopefully the tear in his costume didn't translate over to his clone.

Hopefully they remembered which was which....


Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa


Feeling empty and listless, she looked up as one of the PRT's employees prompted her for her pass-phrase. For a long moment she just stared at him, anguish in her expression, before finally speaking up.

"A shadow passes over a lake of silver light. The solid sky pulls it through its reflection and a being is born." She swallowed hard. The passphrase related to her power intimately. She wanted to change it. She wanted to throw up, just from thinking about that horrible thing. The thing that was part of her. The thing that had hurt Lillian. An aborted sob escaped her throat as she passed the man—bringing up the tail end of the team.

So it was that she was last to sit down in the room where surely they'd be admonished. When director Kens spoke she barely heard—let alone believed—the words he was saying. They wouldn't be blamed? But it was their fault. You could blame their actions solely on Decoy's bad information.

The thoughts began to stoke an anger in her, but before it could find enough fuel to last, the director said her name and she visibly twitched, swallowing hard. As her teammates spoke all the fight went out of her. Very unprofessionally, she brought her feet up onto her seat and hugged her knees, burying her face against them. She'd since removed her mask and anyone who'd look would see make-up running and tear streaks down her face.

As Alessa heaped the blame onto her, Evelyn brought her hands up and wiped her face, smearing more make-up. When her teammate finished she looked up and met the imperious gaze of Director Kens. She clenched her jaw, but she still found that her teeth chattered somewhat. She was shaking and nearby, in the room, behind Kens, a faint silver light hovered.

A shock of panic, eyes widening before she banished the projection's shadow once more. It vanished in a flash of movement, phasing through a wall.

It took her precious seconds to compose herself and when she tried to talk, nothing came out. She tried again, and almost sobbed. Taking a cue from Alessa, she took some deep breaths and then tried again.

"It...it wasn't all Alessa's fault. In my haste to..p-provide aid, my...the projection..." she trailed off, shaking as she took a faltering breath, before she could speak again.

"My projection cut its way through one of the walls to get in. I...it wasn't a decision I made rationally. It...it just reacted to my desire to help."

She hid the bottom half of her face in her knees a moment, looking across the room at Director Kens for a moment. There was barely stifled terror and sadness in her eyes.

"Near...near the end. One of Dean's..." she almost choked on the name. Tears started flowing again and she frowned, clearly distressed that she couldn't hold them back. Her voice sounded shaky as she continued, but she pressed on anyways. "...the clones...one of them hit my projection with a beam. It felt like...it felt like it was accelerated maybe? I can usually feel it like it's part of me, but it...it felt far away all of a sudden. Like I'd been using it longer than I actually had maybe? It wouldn't respond to commands. It just...it lunged at Lillian." Where the tears at first fell steadily, now they practically drenched her cheeks, hitting the fabric on her knees and slowly wetting it as well.

"I couldn't stop it. If...if Alessa hadn't reacted as she did, it would've really hurt Lillian. It might have done worse. I couldn't con-control. I don't know wh--...." She cut off into a quiet sob and buried her face again, unable to continue. Now they all knew.

Surely she'd be removed from the Wards. They couldn't use someone who couldn't control their power. Her power...she didn't even want to use it, or think about using it. She didn't know when the projection might turn on them again. She couldn't deal with that eventuality. She couldn't deal with causing harm to people who didn't deserve it...who weren't rotten like criminal were, like all villains were.

She just couldn't.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by ProPro
Raw
GM
Avatar of ProPro

ProPro Pierce the Heavens with your spoon!

Member Seen 1 yr ago

The Wards: The Day is Over, Time to Relax

@Old Amsterdam@Lugubrious@solokolos@yoshua171@BCTheEntity


Director Kens listened intently to what each of the Wards had to say. The underlying rage seething through his pores slowly deflated, lessening and lessening until it had vanished completely, leaving only the forlorn image of a sad man. His body language never altered though. He was a solid stoic through to the end. Not once did he interrupt any of the teenagers. Instead he let them vocalize what they needed to. They were still kids, after all, and he had one hell of a soft spot for the kids no matter how berating he was known to be to the adults. They needed an outlet to express their feelings.

Once each had had their little outburst, or lack thereof, the director picked up where he had left off. "I am terribly sorry you've experienced such a traumatic event. If we had known you were going to run into the Jacks, or that the Community had... Dean... We wouldn't have sent you. It would have been an all hands on deck situation for the Protectorate, not something to send the Wards into. I'll expect your official reports by 5 pm tomorrow, and the entire event will be under thorough investigation. Until further notice, the Wards will be suspended from active duty, with full pay. No training, no patrols, you will only focus on your school work. And we'll need to... Assess how you've been affected by this event." For the first time since they entered the room, Director Kens took his seat. He folded his hands together in front of his chest as a bead of sweat slowly rolled down his nose, but he appeared to be unbothered. "You'll have mandatory therapy sessions with Dr. Jackson Odin. First as a preliminary, then he will determine if any continued treatments will be necessary. Don't worry about your work, or the city. Noble and Captain Morales should be fully recovered from their injuries within a few days. Don't make any public appearances or statements, let the PR team handle that. You focus on you."

Kens turned to face the hologram of Decoy, which reciprocated, and waited to be addressed. "Decoy, it goes without saying, but we will be going over your information sources very carefully. The Community was clearly expecting this raid. I don't like it one bit." Even the most distant Ward could tell he was restraining himself from screaming at the adult hero.

Decoy's hologram nodded in acceptance. "I understand, Director. This is most troubling to me as well."

Rather than continue the discussion openly, Kens turned back to the kids. "It's been a very late night. Get some rest. Go home to your parents. Blow off some steam with some recreation. Do whatever you need to do to feel good and refreshed. Your preliminary appointment with Dr. Odin will be set for-" He took a moment to pull up a holographic interface, checking some time tables. "6 pm tomorrow. Tulpa, later this week we will need to schedule additional tests for your powers. We need to determine if what happened was master interference. You're all dismissed."

The director stood up and opened the door for the Wards, personally holding it for them as each one took their leave. Where would they go? How would they reflect on this night of horrors? That was up to them, but for one young Ward, her destination had already been established.

<"Riese-chan,"> came Decoy's voice through Ira's headgear. The hologram nearby hadn't moved. <"I am ready for you. You will not go to the room you are used to. My personal quarters are on floor 47. Suite 4718. I will leave the door unlocked.">







The plan had worked. Naturally Sofia, whether she be clone or original recipe, couldn't possibly dodge or recover from a kick delivered by a man so disproportionately larger than her, trained in the science of death dealing. Just as well the Chatterbox clone couldn't compete with a trained brawler like Thunderbolt. His protection was dealt with swiftly, and he could hardly fight back before being clocked and gagged. Clearly he was pissed, but the man was hardly in a position to do anything about it, was he? He fought through the gag, mumbling inarticulate ramblings and threats which, thankfully, wouldn't be having nearly the save level of effect as if his words had gone unhindered. Thus they were off in a mad dash to avoid getting boxed in by PRT response vehicles, the van peeling away as Thunderbolt jumped majestically through the air, like a pegasus pack-mule carrying the two Sofias.

Through a combination of blind luck, a confusing driving route, and pure skill, the Jacks made it back to their headquarters without picking up a tail. Through it all the cloned Chatterbox made his displeasure quite well known. How dare they do this to him? He had been completely cooperative! They were pissing away a great opportunity, just pissing it away! Broker would see things differently. Broker was a smart man, a man of business who looked at a situation with a certain cold objectivity. He'd be ecstatic at the opportunity to have two Chatterboxes to manipulate Denver to his whims! And speaking of whims, Whimsy! The moniker they'd assigned to Sofia! Her ability doubled could create such great opportunity. Yes, the Broker would see how his Jacks had been paranoid idiotic rubes.

The villains entered their joint home to find the Broker already sitting and waiting at the bar. He had poured himself a glass of cinnamon rum, sampling it in small sips. Soon as the shadows of the Jacks crossed over to his stool, the man turned round to face them in earnest. He looked somewhat displeased, but as soon as he laid his eyes on the duplicates, his expression changed to confusion. Only a second passed and he seemed to have garnered some sort of understanding of the situation. The Broker set down his glass and approached the second Chatterbox, but spoke to the Jacks as a whole. "The job should have been simple. A quiet retrieval. But the police scanners tell a different story, eh?"

Once within arm's reach of the duplicate he pulled out the gag, finally allowing the newly dubbed "Blabbermouth" the opportunity to speak unabated. "ARGH! Many thank yous, Broker. If I could trouble you for a spot of that rum, I'd very much like to. The taste should be more agreeable to my palate than what currently resides there." Those who had felt his power working on their minds previously no longer felt that subtle influence. The copy of Sofia said nothing, instead trying her very best to blend into the floor like a lost piece of lint. The Broker made no motion to retrieve a drink, and so Blabbermouth continued. "We're just like the originals. We were made by some freak called Overrun to kill them, but we want to join you!" Blabbermouth's words and tone became more and more desperate as he saw the unfeeling look in Broker's eye go unchanged. "Two Chatterboxes! Two Whimsys! We can do so much for you, and I won't need to be paid as much as the original, boss. Think about that?"

The Broker shook his head, seemingly relenting as he reached back to grab his glass of rum. Blabber looked hopeful as the Broker raised the glass in front of him, but his hopes were dashed as Broker drained the glass himself and placed the now empty vessel on the countertop. "You're a quantum duplicate, the two o'you. Near identical copies of the originals created from a theoretical shift in spacetime. An alternate version that never should have existed, right mates?" Blabbermouth seemed contemplative of the idea, following along but unsure where Broker was going. Duplicate Sofia didn't understand any of it. She just wanted to go to bed. "But that's the thing, right? 'Near' identical. I'll bet fifty pounds you don't even know that your power has been active since the moment you were made. You can't turn it off, y'see." Judging by Blabber's expression, he genuinely hadn't realized it. "An' that's the thing. I can't use you if you can't turn it off. No good to me at all. Quite the opposite, really. A massive detriment. Because the damage you can cause could attract 'her' attention, and I've no intention of letting her find me. So-"

Pew! Pew!

Out of nowhere the Broker had produced a small silenced pistol from his jacket and quickly put a bullet in both of their heads. The two fell to the floor, instantly slain by the weapon. Thankfully, it did not reflect back onto the originals. Drake and Sofia had been spared.

"Funny thing, that." The Broker cleaned the muzzle of his gun's suppressor, then pocketed it once again. "I see there were complications, but hopefully nothing you lot couldn't handle. Did you find the box?"
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Old Amsterdam
Raw
coGM
Avatar of Old Amsterdam

Old Amsterdam Coven Witch

Member Seen 1 yr ago

Jason



The return trip had been.... Enjoyable. Honestly, it had been great to just Superman his way back to the base with the two Sofia's. And he'd managed to remember which was which!

Speaking of, he was slightly relieved that Chatterbox had ripped his own clothes to separate him and CopyBox.

Broker was.... Difficult to read. Jason wasn't entirely sure if the man was disappointed or bored or... What exactly. Executing the two clones, however, was surprising.

He brought his hand to sit on Sofia's head, worried how she might take seeing herself die like that. Chatterbox... Well, he was a cold cut fuck type, so Jason didn't feel like he needed to worry about him in this circumstance.

"Heartless, give him the box." he broke the silence that followed Broker's last sentence, his voice steady as he stared at boss. "Why kill the second? Him, I get him. I don't get her. Nor do I get how you knew any of that. Nor am I sure what to do with the bodies. I'd like these unknowns to stop being unknowns, Bossman. This don't look good."





Lillian squeezed Alessa's hand, hard, as the older girl tried to place blame on herself, but remained quiet.

The rest... They weren't doing well. And Ira wanted Decoy to pull her out? What... What on Earth did that even mean?

The Director seemed like a balloon filled with cardboard. No more air, but it still had the shape? Did that make sense?

Margrave forgot a teammate, which was sad. But he was evil? She wasn't very sure what to think about all that.

And Evelyn... It was. No. That didn't make sense.

Her heart beat increased as she thought about it, the collision of that thing, and she put her head into her free hand. She hurt. Her head hurt. Her heart hurt a little, actually. She didn't mean for that to happen. Lillian knew that.

But she also knew she was scared. She flinched slightly as she thought she saw something like the projection. No, most be a trick of her eyes. The light as the Director moved. Sat?

She didn't know what to do. There were so many conflicting emotions and thoughts and....

Take a chance.

No, she couldn't. She couldn't just let go. Could she?

The room was quiet for a moment. Lillian rose unsteadily. She wanted to leave but she didn't. She didn't know where to go. Not home. Not yet. Not like this.

She looked back at Alessa and.... She let go. Her face was scrunched up and it hurt. The tears hurt. Everything hurt. She was done with all the hurt.

"Don't." she said to Alessa, her voice shaking. "Don't you dare blame yourself. Don't. You're everything.... Everything I should be." the words after the pause seemed somewhat forced? Almost as if they weren't the original words. "We.. We'll heal. But don't you dare lie and say you're anything less than you are. None of you." again, the final sentence seemed to be added onto the original thought.

She moved towards the door slowly, stopping in the doorway. "I'm going to the medical area now. I'd like... Maybe soon... If you guys wanted to stop by...." she left it hanging as she left the room.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by solokolos
Raw
Avatar of solokolos

solokolos

Member Seen 1 yr ago

Ira:
Protectorate Headquarters

@ProPro

The young girl felt like a weight was crushing her chest, each breath a struggle. Decoy wasn't responding, and the others were chiming in with their own two cents. Ira caught the tone, but not much else. Alessa was mad, Evelyn sounded distressed, but she felt bad enough herself that she couldn't raise her head off the table. The director spoke up, and she caught a small part about official reports being due the next day, but it went in one ear, out the other. The director stood up, and Ira noticed she hadn't heard him sit down. He moved to the door, and slowly the various Wards left. Lillian spoke a bit from the doorway, and Ira stood up, moving to leave the room. Her eyes were crusted with tears, but she felt like trying to wipe them away would break her composure. A familiar voice spoke to her in Japanese through the communicator, prompting Ira to move towards and up the stairs.

Navigating the building was second nature, though she soon found herself in an unfamiliar wing of the building. Ira lifted up her eyes just enough to see the numbers passing by. 4716, 4717, 4718. That was the room number Decoy had said. Ira walked up to the door, twisting the door handle, and the handle turned all the way. She pushed, the heat from inside making the door feel heavier than it actually was. Ira peeked her head inside, her hand reaching up to finally wipe away the dried tears.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Eklispe
Raw
coGM
Avatar of Eklispe

Eklispe SSP

Member Seen 4 mos ago

Sofia Stien - Jacks Headquarters


Sofia didn't resist as Thunderbird swept her up and flew into the sky like his namesake. In fact her arms clutched him tightly for comfort like a lost koala baby. They were set down and the evil versions of themselves started talking to Broker. Then he shot them. Both of them. Sofia stared for a moment, mulling over this fact. She did not like this. She did not like today. Her job was supposed to be easy. Close her eyes until the mission was over and she got money. Simple. Fun even. She didn't know what she wanted the money for, but you were supposed to want money and with enough money she could do anything so it didn't matter.

But right now Sofia was tired and scared and didn't want to deal with anything anymore. Her hollow eyes stared at her own corpse. She hadn't even had time to flinch. What had evil Chatterhead said? That Sofia had been just like her. Just as safe as her. Just as fragile as her. The evil Chatterhead was dead too, laying on the floor bleeding. Sofia didn't want to feel anymore today. Thunderbird's head-pat was barely registered. She opened her mouth but no noise came out save for a small squeak. She gave up. Sofia stood next to Thunderbird silently, a porcelain doll to the world staring at a portrait of its own demise. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Flood
Raw
Avatar of Flood

Flood Cyber-Phantasy Knight

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Ryan Dwyer-Jacks Headquarters

@Old Amsterdam@ProPro@BCTheEntity@Eklispe


Ryan stared at the corpses in front of him, his body language unreadable as Broker spoke. A deep sigh made itself present as he rubbed the top of his helmet, even if they were just clones... fuck. He looked over at Sophia and frowned, not that anyone could see that. He should hang out with her, she needed a friend. But that wasn't important right now, well it was, but there was more important things to worry about. Ryan nodded as Jason asked him to hand over the box, taking it out of his jacket and setting it down on the bar in front of the Broker.

"I agree with Jason. The Chatterbox clone needed to die, I'll give you that. But we didn't need to kill her." Ryan let out another deep sigh as he took off his helmet, revealing his pale visage and the deep set frown he was sporting. "Regardless, I suppose it's debriefing time. It was a clusterfuck to say the least." Thus Ryan explained the situation in detail, how they managed to take out the guards with minimum difficulties, finding the box, and the Wards showing up. "I'll be straight with you, we weren't expecting Capes. Especially not on the level of this guy, his name was Overrun. He kept making clones, literal waves of them. They all had different powers too, hence the-" His face paled as he glanced at the corpses once again, shaking his head and soldiering onward. "The duplicates. Fuck I need a drink."

Ryan hopped the bar and began looking around, finally finding exactly what he was looking for as he poured himself a glass of root beer. "Anyone want anything?" He forced a smile on his face as he looked at everyone, it was all he could do now. Maybe if he smiled everyone else would too? A childish thought, but being childish right now sounded pretty good.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Miakoda
Raw
Avatar of Miakoda

Miakoda The Scientific Thinker

Member Seen 6 yrs ago

Dianthus - Nature VS Nurture

The Stormkeeper





"What is up with this kid?" Floris silently muttered to himself. He had managed to shorten his distance to a reasonable 200 meters. The decreased distance meant he could hear the kid a lot clearer.

"Can't sell the beads, too dangerous." He muttered to himself. Beads? Dangerous? Just what was this kid up to? First he drops something large (and presumedly heavy), then proceeds to carefully pick up every piece, only to drop them on the ground again! Not to mention these supposed danger beads.
Floris decided that enough was enough. He would investigate further, and if it involved getting up close and personal, so be it. Putting his hands in his pockets, Floris quickened his pacing. The kid hadn't moved an inch, and Floris was getting closer and closer. As he closed in on the alley, Floris slowed down to a walking pace; he didn't want to startle the kid. Eventually, Floris arrived at the edge of the alley.

"Excuse me, but what are you doing?"
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Old Amsterdam
Raw
coGM
Avatar of Old Amsterdam

Old Amsterdam Coven Witch

Member Seen 1 yr ago

@Miakoda


Artificer looked around with a frown on his face. "Doing? I should ask you that. Get out of my hou.... Oh." he looked up at the sky above them in confusion. "You shouldn't listen in on people. Or follow them. Or... Whatever this is. I don't have any money. Go away."

He idly fingered a set of beads around his neck before grabbing some copper wire buried under a trash bag. "This will do. Yeah. Why not. Why are you here? Can't I just be left alone..."
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Miakoda
Raw
Avatar of Miakoda

Miakoda The Scientific Thinker

Member Seen 6 yrs ago

Dianthus - Nature VS Nurture

The Stormkeeper





"Listen in on people? The hell are you going on about? You were just standing there, staring blankly into nothingness. Can't a stranger worry for the well being of his fellow people?"

Floris' acting was usually good enough to fool common people, and this time was no exception. However, this kid wasn't normal, and something told Floris that he wasn't safe either. His eyes kept shifting from the kid, to the beads, to the copper wire that the kid was idly fumbling with.

"Listen kid, I'm not sure if leaving you alone would be a good idea; you seem to be in a good daze. Do you have anywhere to go?"
↑ Top
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet