Azereiah

Revenant: A Sci-Fi Adventure (Always Accepting!)

I'll try to get something up tonight.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

---

Grimm Studies

---

@Ryonara@FlitterFaux@Write@Krayzikk@NarayanK

Yue reached out and touched Ashe's shoulder, and Ashe almost immediately felt a surge of strength flood her body. She almost felt like normal again, and the pain in her right hand had completely disappeared. The glove was still melted onto her hand, but the burns were gone - peeling it off wouldn't be too far off from pulling off a bandaid now.

"Yeah, I think I'm fine now. Thanks, Yue. That's a hell of a Semblance."

Further conversation was cut off. The room was briefly lit in orange as a flaming arrow arced overhead from the rear, embedding itself deeply in a root. The root burst into flame and crumbled into ash - obviously fire was the right option, and obviously Ashe had seriously overdone it. A quick glance at the root Ashe had melted showed that it was lying in the swampy pool deflated, smoking, half liquified, and charred almost all the way up to the stem. It wasn't nearly as durable as Ashe had expected: it was just really, really big. Quantity over quality seemed to be the Dionaea's theme, and she adjusted her remaining glove further down to an 8.

More tentacles flew towards her, and she was preparing another fistful of pain for it, when Skye suddenly yanked her out of harm's way. Ashe's eye twitched in annoyance, but there was no way she could've stopped all four of them at once with one shot, and some of the roots wrapped around her savior instead. Ashe was readying her fist again when Skye shattered one root and Bianca clove the other in twain, so Ashe shifted to searching for more targets.

"Already on it, boss. Orange glowy thing, huh? Guess that's how this damn thing sees us, too," she replied to Ben and Bianca respectively. "We could get out of the water and let loose with Lightning Dust..."

As she said it, she realized that with as much trouble as she'd had moving across the room with only three roots after her, the whole group wouldn't be able to go very far itself. But the idea itself was sound. A good shock to the main stem would seek out a ground and run through the Dionaea's entire body downwards, probably charring and vaporizing the flesh like a Vacuoan saguaro struck by lightning, and the orange glowing thing was in the middle of that path. The other, more realistic option would be to cleave as many roots as possible and rush it before it had time to recover. Port just had to bring in a creature that'd be easiest to kill solo, didn't he. Asshole.

Ashe found her target after a few more seconds: a swarm of roots was slinging itself straight at Ben. While she was sure he could handle it, she was getting awfully tired of dealing with this shit. With a twitch of her middle and ring fingers, she threw a palm thrust towards the roots around Ben and his shield. 50/50 White and Blue Dust would just throw a chunk of ice at the roots - not terribly useful. So Ashe made a wager on Dust usage - 70 White/30 Blue felt right. And it paid off - rather than throwing a block of ice at the roots, an intense, near-invisible spray of frigid air erupted from her left glove, leaving a sparkling shine on one side of the roots in front of the group. She had no idea if it would be effective, but it seemed to slow them down, and she could hear a distinct crunching sound as each root tried to twist and move towards the group further. The roots' hides sounded like they were cracking.

One of the smaller roots headed towards Skye also caught her attention. It was close -- very close. Her left hand was still hanging in the air in front of her, too far extended for a good strike, so she did what any good goat would do and lunged sideways at it. NOM.

It tasted like anger, regret, leaves, and ash. Almost like the time she bit into a cigar instead of a pirouette cookie. In other words, it tasted fine by her incredibly low standards, and she clamped her jaws shut with enough strength to rip apart a wooden farm fence.

DC Universe: Anarchy

@Queentze Hey! I'm fairly certain you should post the CS here in OOC, not IC.

@Bishop

Probably accidentally posted IC after some tabs got mixed up. I've done that before (thanks, Autosave).

Revenant: A Sci-Fi Adventure (Always Accepting!)

skip, aye

DC Universe: Anarchy

Sounds good. Guess Lexcorp is the first stop, then.

And aye. If you've got excess bricks, mortar, concrete, steel beams, rivets, etc., the best trade partner is one that needs those things. Simple opportunism can be useful sometimes.

DC Universe: Anarchy

Black Riot

---

Intro

---

The RV was in rough shape. The air conditioning was out again, the water filter needed replacing, one of the engine belts was slipping, and it only had a gallon left in the fuel tank. But somehow, it had made it. Arturo leaned back in the driver's seat and stared out of the massive windows into the city sky, admiring the massive and clean buildings. It was different there. More upright. But there was some damage scattered across the city. Construction projects were underway to fix up smashed roads and buildings after the revolution.

He smiled to himself. Infrastructure damage is good. 'Specially in a place this big. Can probably get a lot of supplies in trade here... There were supposedly a few companies that might be willing to work with the Free Territory of Chihuahua and Sonora, the expanse of land that the Black Militia and ILW had stormed and taken over when global leaders had disappeared. It stretched all the way from Los Angeles, CA to Albuquerque, NM, to Parral, MX, though territorial lockdown was fairly loose and a number of smaller groups were trying to build new nations inside its claimed areas. Arturo was out looking for materials to feed the growing population of the Free Territory, and his journeys had taken him all the way to Metropolis, still one of the biggest centers of commerce in North America even after the collapse of the old government.

Soil. Fertilizers. Raw minerals. Seeds. Most of the Free Territory's needs were covered by its masses of craftsmen and farmers, since the first order of business had been to ensure that everybody had food, clothing, entertainment, and shelter. But now it needed materials to not only expand its settlements, but also to give restitution to the families and friends of those who had been killed during the revolutionary war. It took a few weeks, but Arturo had managed to convince most of the other council representatives of the Free Territory that even 'enemies' should be treated fairly and given a choice between staying and becoming a productive member of society, or leaving with a mobile home and enough supplies to survive until their crops started growing.

Most people had opted to stay, but that meant the Free Territory was running in the red for the time being. A group of biologists and architects was tasked with coming up with a sustainable living plan. The plan mandated prefabricated housing equipped with solar panels, a home battery, rooftop rainwater collection, an automated indoor personal hydroponics garden, and a public outdoor miniature greenhouse. It seemed reasonable, and after being cleaned up by industrial engineers, the material requirement per unit dropped below that of ordinary housing. But the Free Territory needed materials in the first place: they could only build 5,000 out of the needed 500,000 prefab homes.

Arturo's musings on sustainable communities ended and the large man stood, stretched, yawned, and stepped out of the RV and onto the pavement. The free parking lot was on the outskirts of the downtown area, and he had quite a ways to walk. Even if he fucking hated them, the capitalists in the area hadn't been forced to build their production chains from the ground up, and were possibly willing to trade.

DC Universe: Anarchy

@TheUnknowable

Quick question while I work on my post. Are there any major companies in Metropolis (or wherever the starting point is) providing fertile soil, fertilizers, and raw ores?

DC Universe: Anarchy

Mkay. Working on a post now. Won't be up until later tomorrow though.

DC Universe: Anarchy

I'll get something up later tonight.

DC Universe: Anarchy

Black Riot

Black Riot

---

Name:

Arturo Chavira

Appearance:

Black Riot's signature outfit is almost entirely black. His face is covered with a rigid, smooth black helmet with a deep black visor. Wrapped around the helmet is a black mask, oftentimes either a tee shirt, a shemagh, or a bandana and a hood, though his mask always has a tiny hole cut in it to feed his smoking habit. Lower down, Black Riot wears even more black. A heavily padded, black, armorlike leather jacket is printed with a blood red cogwheel encircling a raised red fist. Occasionally the leather jacket is covered with a black hoodie with identical insignia, which he uses to blend in with the rest of his militants. Black leather motorcycle pants are suspended with a cheap brown leather belt, and a pair of Dexter black steel-toed boots protect his feet. Upon his hands are a pair of similarly black leather sap gloves, obviously purchased from a military and police surplus store.

While Black Riot himself looks almost identical to every single militant comrade he has, there are some things that make him stand out in a crowd: He's 6'4" and 255 lbs., and he's carrying a 12 pound, yellow-hafted MSC sledgehammer over his right shoulder.

Out of costume, Arturo looks like any other lower class man, though he's a very large one. Light brown hair, a full beard kept very short, and very square features outline ice blue eyes.

(picture pending)

Powers:

Enhanced Body:

As with most heroes forged through harsh trials and pharmaceuticals, Black Riot is gifted with superhuman natural strength, reflexes, and durability. His strength and speed are roughly equal to mid range heroes, and were he to compete in the Olympics, he could finish the 100m dash at a time of 3.58, or reach 66.24 meters in the shot put. In addition, most people are capable of barely surviving being struck by a car up to 30mph, whereas Black Riot has gotten up and walked it off after being struck head-on at 120, with nothing more than several broken ribs and a bad headache. Black Riot seems to stop bleeding much faster than most others, too, and his more major injuries tend to heal in a matter of weeks.

Power to the People:

Black Riot's greatest and most powerful ability is that of unity. When fighting as part of a group, group size and camaraderie create a sort of feedback loop between Black Riot and his allies, massively magnifying strength, speed, confidence, perception, acrobatics, and gumption. The larger and tighter the group is, the stronger the effect is. During his time with the Black Militia, this power permitted his cell of twenty to overcome a position of two hundred heavily dug-in patriot militia members with only one casualty. It almost functions as a sort of empathic 'hive mind', in which group members can almost feel eachothers' strategies in their own heads. There is no range limit, so long as group members know they're personally working together with Black Riot, and this would extend to scenarios in which Black Riot has been captured by another.

However, all great powers come with drawbacks, and this is no exception. Groups that are too large or too tightly bonded suffer from massive overconfidence, including Black Riot himself, and run the risk of fighting battles they have no hope of winning, even with massively amplified potential. After all, even with enhanced strength and mental clarity, it still only takes one well placed bullet for a person to die.

Empathy:

Arturo has the instinctive ability to understand body language, hidden verbal cues, facial expressions, and the like to a very deep extent. It isn't exactly 'psychic' empathy, but it certainly seems like it is to others. Using this personal strength, Arturo is able to relatively reliably decipher a person's emotional state, motives, struggles, family life, and the like, purely through conversation and observation. His skills extend to social/pack animals as well. That said, there are some particularly brilliant people out there who break the patterns Black Riot looks for, leaving him utterly baffled and frustrated.

Technology:

A large sledgehammer, internally reinforced. Good luck breaking it.
A pipe wrench.
A pair of small bolt cutters.
Petrol Bombs, unknown quantity: at least four.
A small hand radio.
A complete tool belt.
A blowtorch.
Generic handcuff keys in several different sizes.
Two packs of filterless Lucky Strikes. Don't ask him for one unless you're particularly adventurous with your nicotine sources.
A large black backpack full of water and vegan friendly energy bars, with which he feeds his comrades during actions. He saves the accompanying beef jerky for himself.

Acquaintances:

The Chavira Family
Arturo's own family is fairly large, as he's one of the five children of Carlos and Elena Chavira. Arturo's father is now disabled, and his three brothers now work at the steel foundry that, prior to the governmental collapse, had crippled their father. All four brothers came together to personally put their boss to death for his crimes against his workers. It's a shame the man didn't support safety regulations, or perhaps he'd still be alive today.

Various Laborers
Arturo Chavira is part of a previously not-so-well-known global labor union known as the ILW. The ILW takes the position that it is every worker's duty to help fellow workers, and often pools funds to start up more localized labor unions in other places. They have been working to stabilize the industrial sector after the collapse of governance, and are almost absurdly socially progressive. In recent months, International Laborers of the World has seen an explosion in membership, with roughly 2% of the population of every city being a member. The ILW has a tendency towards hard militancy and sabotage when their strikes don't work, and is very familiar with the name 'Black Riot'. In the event that Arturo ever is in trouble, he can call upon local ILW members to mask up and save his ass.

Oliver Queen
When Arturo was out traveling abroad, he made a pit stop in the United States, where he met a rugged, blonde man at a gas station in Seattle. He never got the man's name, but he would never forget the five minute encounter. It was Oliver Queen who spurred Arturo into thinking on his position in life, that of his family, and that of his coworkers, and it was Oliver Queen whose views on authority spurred Arturo into taking action.

Personality:

Kind. Vicious. Justice-driven. Cooperative. Calm. Furious. All these words can describe Arturo simultaneously, as a fire burns within him so brightly that it oftentimes outshines those around him. He is a born leader, though he rejects the notion of leadership out of hand, and carries a certain brand of charisma rarely seen. Arturo's greatest outwardly visible aspect is his ability to relate to and communicate with laborers, both rural and urban, both in manufacturing and service, and across the entire wealth spectrum. He's the sort to praise the creativity of a toilet sitting on a person's shotgun shack porch one minute, then turn around and admire a beautifully constructed house and car owned by a wealthy family. Some may find him irritating on some level, but most have difficulty disagreeing with his views of the world -- at least, in front of him.

Arturo is community oriented. He believes that all people who wish to work should be guaranteed the chance for labor suiting their personalities, talents, and skills, and that the average citizen knows his own needs better than a ruling class would. That said, Arturo isn't a strict 'rebel'. He views some nebulous entity he terms 'the community' as being the ultimate arbiter of what is and is not Justice, and strongly feels that freedom mandates rules being put in place by the community as a whole, via direct consensus.

There is some degree of instability, though. When he sees others attempting to manipulate their communities into giving them power, he is compelled to step in. Violently. Very violently. And he does so with a wide smile upon his face, as calmly as can be.

Bio:

Arturo was previously a foundry worker in southern California, up until the day his father was injured in the job and lost his right hand. Arturo attempted to rally the workers for a strike, but was almost immediately caught, fired, and arrested. After a short month in jail for the alleged crime of "trespassing", he got back on his feet by throwing himself wholly into general contracting. After a few home repair jobs, he invested in a modest RV, said his goodbyes to his family, and started roaming the US and Mexico, doing odd jobs here and there to survive. He wasn't entirely sure why he had packed up and left his home, but a mobile life was liberating, even if it was awful half the time. Rationing water was the hardest part, since the RV lacked any sort of filtration system, and he disliked the feeling of being dirty.

At some point during his several year journey, the 30 year old Arturo Chavira became a smoker. A very, very heavy smoker. He'd been one as a teenager, but had quit after only a year out of health concerns. But the habit was back, and he slowly started developing mild chronic respiratory infections. It didn't interfere much with his work, but it did turn into a chronic cough and a habit of coughing up sputum any time his throat was even mildly irritated.

Not terribly long ago, an alleged 'villain' known as Anarchy spurred a global revolution. Arturo knew what he had to do, and threw himself headlong into the business of spreading revolutionary ideology in northern Mexico and the southwest United States. Even if Anarchy removed every single world leader from power, there would still be the lingering ghost of neoliberal and nationalist ideology to worry about, which would, if left unchecked, permit new leader figures to rise.

A small scale guerrilla civil war broke out across the region, during which neighbors and families shot at one another, hoarded arms and supplies, barricaded themselves in forts, schools, jails, and stores. Arturo led anarchist revolutionaries of the ILW and the newly formed Black Militia into battle under his own personal banner: a black flag with a red cogwheel encircling a raised red fist. During the conflict, Arturo discovered a new side of himself after experimenting with pharmaceutical enhancements, and he took on the name of Black Riot in keeping with superpowered traditions.

The Black Militia was a decentralized, horizontally organized militant group. While many viewed Black Riot as being a sort of leader figure, he refused to take any sort of role of power, and rather acted as a teacher and a soldier. Each cell elected a manager, whose job it was to decide on recruitment and training schedules, and organize meetings. Because every member had a say in military strategy, losses were absolutely minimal and the conflict spanning the length of the Mexican border was over in a matter of months.

Afterwards, Black Riot himself disappeared, leaving the Black Militia to rebuilt society in the form of a series of networked communes of different economic philosophies, but all united under the belief that no leader should ever be allowed to take power over them. Black Riot is still missing, but Arturo Chavira has returned to his old job as a traveling craftsman, trading labor for food, fuel, and water. Rumors of troubles have brought him to a city that up until recently was the symbol of the modern world's power.