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29 days ago
Current Lady Selune sent me, and I came. Everywhere. Find me at BCLEGENDS#8049 on Discord.
1 mo ago
I have never interacted with Raddum before in my life, but I already think they're a loser and also probably overweight.
2 likes
1 mo ago
Apparently, the Cranberries singer just died. I have no idea who that was, but alas, death is swift and merciless regardless of station.
1 mo ago
Assassins? In MY roleplay? It's more likely than you think.
2 likes
1 mo ago
Why DO black men call each other "Monica" anyway? Isn't that a primarily female name?
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Bio

Hello, I am me from the internet. I migrated here from Kongregate's Forum Games Forum, so feel free to look for me there if you wish to follow a career in internet stalking people.

Most Recent Posts

The Monsters Within

@ProPro @Old Amsterdam @yoshua171 @BCTheEntity @Lugubrious
Lillian, Evelyn, and Messiah


As the Beast continued to make mincemeat of the many clones, Evelyn made her way into the warehouse proper and--noticing that Lillian was no longer in her changer form--immediately tried to locate her. Her efforts were to no avail as even with the Beast’s prodigious senses she couldn’t pick out the girl in the tide of clones and the chaos of combat.

A sharp crack ringing out causing her to cover her ears, Evelyn scanned the room, using her projection’s senses to locate the origin of the sound. As she did another boom--the firing of a gun she realized--echoed through the warehouse. Wincing, her ears ringing, Evelyn drew her modified bo-staff from its place and extended it. Dean’s clones were closing in and she needed a way to defend herself while she used the Beast to reduce the number of clones and hopefully find Lillian.

Springing into motion she struck a Dean across the face, and spun the staff, warding a number of them off before feinting a thrust, swinging as she retracted and then extended one side of the staff. It struck two Deans in succession, knocking them out. She used their prostrate bodies as platforms, jumping into the space to strike of the clones. She had to fend them off, but god was this terrifying….

Meanwhile, the Beast had made its way to the center of the throng of bodies and was carving a bloody path through everything in its way. There was blood, stone, wood, and metallic detritus all over the floor, and in some cases, protruding from clones--living or otherwise.

As she made her way in the direction she’d last heard Margrave and his gun--fighting through the throng of clones--something strange happened. The connection to her projection warped, then thinned, then faded as if into the distance. Spinning her staff she created distance around her, before stumbling slightly as her head throbbed. The nausea lasted less than a second, and she managed to ward off the Deans and climb onto a crate to continue towards Margrave and get a better view of the warehouse.

However, her thoughts were totally interrupted when a deafening roar echoed through the building, hurting her ears once more. Even worse however was the lurching feeling as the Beast turned all at once in the direction of the roar’s source, crouched--absorbing a sizable portion of the concrete floor and the bloody, mushy leavings of the clones into itself--before launching itself in a powerful, floor cratering, lunge.

Reaching out for the projection, she tried to force it to demanifest itself, only to encounter a crazed cacophony of psychic noise, scrabbling her thoughts and causing her to teeter in place and fall to one knee.

She reached again, but this time on top of the noise there was a resistance, a thick muddy mental mire that she had to get through. Like trying to wade through tar to hit a switch, but the tar enveloped her completely. Wrenching her mind from it, she almost threw up, but instead swallowed hard and screamed at the top of her lungs--desperation writ in her words.

“LILY, NO!!!!!!”

The Beast struck Lillian’s form, likely head first, essentially bludgeoning its head directly into her side with the entire weight and strength of its body. Such was the force that it made an audible CRACK on impact. A hollow feeling descended on Evelyn, her mouth agape as the tears that had welled up in her eyes spilled over.

In complete shock, she didn’t even notice as a not inconsiderable number of Deans clambered atop the crates after her and attacked, punching and kicking her. She toppled to the crate, calling out in pain, before curling herself into a tight ball, covering her head with her arms.

As Lillian was moving away from her allies and the original group of Parahuman villains they had encountered, something very solid, and very hard, collided with her skull. Crashing to the ground, crushing a dozen clones beneath her mass, everything went dark.

The Dino quickly disappeared, leaving the unconscious form of Lillian on the ground in its place. Her leg, still cut, began bleeding steadily. If anything, it seemed worse than earlier.

Further worse than that was the large mess of colors that was the right side of her face and neck, as bruising quickly began to form from the impact of the Beast.

Several moments passed, the Dean army ignoring the limp body, before Lillian coughed, struggling to turn to a sitting position. She looked around in a rather detached way, a hand coming up to touch her face as a look of horror and pain stretched across it.

”Why…?” she murmured before something clicked in her head. ”... They just won't… Do it…” she grunted, fishing around her uniform. No, nothing she could use for this. Nothing that would end it.

With a groan, Lillian pulled herself to her feet after several attempts at standing failed, moving towards the clones that had noticed her again. They had powers. One of them would end this for her, she was sure of it.

Messiah was barely paying attention to most of what was happening. Relatively little was getting through to her outside of her reckless path of death through the horde of clones about her - a couple of crashes, signifying the arrival of Overlook and the hurling back of Thunderbolt’s train respectively, were most of her external perception, the rest of her being focused on not noticing how much gore was strewn about her, how many dead and dissolved versions of her deceased friend were giving her trouble gripping the floor, right up until the moment she spied the villain called Heartless picking up Lillian.

Making contact with her. Touching her. How dare he.

HOW DARE HE.

Go to him. Make sure he pays for his sins. Those about you are not of the choir; they matter not. They. Just. Kill them. They aren’t alive, but kill them.

More and more clones fell to her onslaught. She was a veritable whirlwind of burning light and heat and radiation, and she was draining herself rapidly in the process. Surely, she couldn’t keep up such an effort for much longer... but she had to, for the good of her Wards, and for the good of Denver itself, starting with this maniac’s end.

Finally, she drew close, just as he began an assault against another, female, fake Dean. And with rather little coherency, she all but screamed at him: ‘LEAVE MY TEAM ALONE!’ In fact, she’d have done far more, but it was at that stage that Lillian transformed into... well, a much larger version of her transformed state than she normally would. And her roar was a rival to the gunshot that had.

The shot. Alessa very nearly threw up on the spot.

Before she could recover, a small horde of Deans descended upon her, planting multiple fists and feet into her frame before she emitted a pulse of heat enough to boil their flesh. By then, Lillian had rampaged a distance away, leaving a path of dead Deans in her wake.

And then the projection lunged. It smashed into Lillian, and toppled her, and knocked her unconscious.

The red mist that covered Alessa’s thoughts as a result made all those corpses seem briefly less horrifying. Tulpa was being attacked, and was unable to control it, which meant it was a threat.

It was hurting her team. It had to die.

With a scream of blood-soaked fury, Alessa aimed both hands, and fired an intense orb of white light and heat and UV radiation toward it from mere meters away. Wood and steel and concrete vaporized in its nigh-instantaneous wake, set alight by its passage, and at least one stack of boxes began to topple as it was destabilised; bodies melted as it passed through them, and even those not in its direct path felt but a fraction of the intense heat it emitted. It struck the Beast, and kept burrowing into it as it melted and disintegrated its form, and all but exploded within its frame as a result. In what amounted to mere milliseconds, the Beast went from whole to practically limbs and a head.

All but destroyed, the projection turned murderous, alien eyes on Messiah, took a step and then finally demanifested. But Tulpa. Evelyn. She was still. They were.

With a snarl of only somewhat lessened anger, Alessa’s attention turned to the remaining clones, and a swipe of her hand sent a wave of burning light across the warehouse, setting alight a great many more mindless clones, including most of those attacking Tulpa, and otherwise leaving a wake of rapidly-spreading fire wherever it passed. How dare they. She hadn’t hurt anyone else with it, thank God, but how DARE those clones hurt her friends. There was more death where that came from for them.

Except there wasn’t. The orb of death had taken most of Alessa’s remaining energy reserves, and that last beam had taken whatever was left, save the little being absorbed and near-instantly spewed out to maintain her disguise. In other words, Alessa was essentially powerless, in a burning warehouse full of corpses. And meat. And blood. And. Foes. And Dean.

‘Oops,’ she quietly murmured. She had but a fraction of a second to process her error before realising, hell on Earth, WHY was Lillian still trying to get herself killed?! Charging toward her younger ally, she grabbed one of the girl’s hands and began to run toward the back of the warehouse, as that direction seemed to have the least number of clones. Now was the time for her krav maga training to kick in, if ever...!

As it happened, events transpired to suit her plan. Lieutenant Reynolds, seeing an obvious issue with his charge falling to her knees in the middle of a fight, had practically dragged Epsilon back up to her feet, bringing her with him as he fired toward whichever Dean clones seemed appropriate to knock them out - first those few who were still assaulting Tulpa, and then some of those in the path of Messiah and Tiger Lily as they made their escape attempt.

‘Tulpa, are you okay?’ Reynolds asked, concerned for her well-being, but nonetheless quite stern. ‘I need you to get up, we’re getting you and the other Wards out of here. Johnson, Skeetz, status report!’ she yelled into the comms unit, demanding her fellow soldiers’ attention.

‘Sir, I haven’t heard a response from Skeetz for a while!’ came Johnson’s reply. ‘I… I fear he may-’

‘Bullshit! Find him, then get him and Margrave out of here alive!’ The Lieutenant was understandably short with his orders - a dead soldier on what was supposed to be a routine mission was an entirely unacceptable loss, and failure here would not be tolerated.

‘Understood,’ Johnson murmured into her comms, before turning to her transformative charge. ‘Come on, Margrave, we’re finding Skeetz and making a retreat. Please don’t make a big deal out of this order, too.‘ With that said, she pushed on, deliberately trying to press the Margrave forward ahead of her to try and make sure he didn’t fall behind - she lacked the patience, and with the warehouse starting to burn, they both lacked the time. She made her effort to head toward the back of the warehouse, where she suspected she’d find Skeetz in short order; if not… well, that would be a bridge to cross when she got to it.

Lillian nearly sighed with relief as she felt a hand close around her, before realizing she was being led away from death.

For a moment, she was angry.

And then her eyes caught who had her, and she let it happen. ”I'm sorry…” she whispered, feeling even lower, more conflicted. What would her death do to Alessa?

Her gaze caught a clone raising his hands at them, and Lillian simply reacted. As a shotgun of oddly shaped, undefinable matter ejected from nowhere at them, Lillian shoved Alessa whole bodily, tumbling with the older girl. She felt a stabbing pain in her back where a piece of... whatever that was had sliced through her side.

”Not you. You're not…. Allowed to hurt…” Lillian grumbled. ”Should've just… Let me…”

Lillian was upset. Saddening, but necessary. She couldn't die. Not like. Not-

Suddenly, she was pushed to the ground. Something lodged in her arm, through the kevlar, dripping blood, but the pain unnoticed for adrenaline. And in exchange...

NO.

And she was still insisting she

Blood

Dying

Nonononono not another one

She wouldn't let

Not

She wanted to kill the clones. She couldn't, so she wouldn't let Lillian die instead. Next best thing. Messiah kept moving.
March 14th, 2XXX

As the next morning rolled around, each fighter awoke- or remained awake, if it mattered- to find that they’d each been left a message on the nearest phone. Whether that was their cell phone, or a landline, it transpired that whoever picked it up was inevitably the intended recipient. Consequently, they were privy to the following texts and/or voice messages:

The Murderous Three
@Old Amsterdam@Lady Selune@TheRedWatcher
Tch... looks like I’ve been... stuck with you......
Guess I’ll have to teach you all “the ropes”................
Don’t cry if you can’t handle it.......... The “assassin’s life” isn’t for everyone......... but you all have the “money” you need for your first “fight” at your level... and only your first...
“The Heretic”... your rank is 124... and your next target is... “Asterisk Hash”... or one of the guys above her... “Redbone”, or “Maria Slant”... so pick “Asterisk’s building”... or the “subway” to the “graveyard”... or “Destroy Stadium”...
“Kraken”, you have a “rank” of 143... and your next target is... “The Maiden of Bones”... but you could also pick “Iron Lobster”... or “Heckfire”... go to the “Necro Lab”... or “West Santa Destroy”, or “Area 51”........
“Chroma”, your next target is... “Ruby Dragon”... tech... looks like you don’t get a “choice” here.............. Go to “Destroy University” to fight her... if you see “The Savile Fist”... well... don’t...
You are all....... VERY likely to die... but as the CEO says... “Trust” your “Force”... only the strong die old...


The Witching Hour
@Gardevoiran@AngelofOctober@Regitnui
Well, aren’t you guys unfortunate? Not only do two of you have members of The Murderous Three breathing down your necks right off the bat, but one of you only holds to the name of the team ironically! Admittedly, that one was a deliberate crack on my part, but whatever.
Anyway, you’ve all been given enough funds to get to your next fight, though after this, you’ll need to earn your keep honest-like. Maiden, you’re at rank 142; assuming Kraken doesn’t decide she wants to try and kill you immediately, you’ve got a choice of either The Iron Lobster or Heckfire to go after - assuming you get to your choice before she does. You’ll want West Santa Destroy for the crustacean, or Area 51 for the fireball.
Silver Prowler, you’re the lucky one here! Not only do you have the highest rank out of everybody, 112, but you’re about safe from The Murderous Three for now too! That also means you don’t get a choice in who you fight next, though: your target is Shippidge Cuddles, and you’re gonna need to fly out to the so-called “Cuddle-Puddle Bitch Hole”, formerly Bare Hill Correctional Facility in New York state, to catch up with him. The private jet’s been set up at Santa Destroy airport. Have fun with that.
And as for you, Hash... your rank is 123. If the Heretic doesn’t decide to take you out early - oh, and I hope she does - you’ve got either Redbone or Maria Slant as your target. Pick one, preferably not the one Heretic picks, and go either take the subway to the local graveyard, or head to Destroy Stadium.
And to be clear, if Kraken or Heretic decide to try and off one of you guys? Yeah, we’ll tell you.


The United Force
@Dogematix@A Lowly Wretch@Irredeemable
A fake ghost, a Victorian brawler, and a drug addict. A less united force I could not conceive of myself. Heh.

You’ve been wired the money necessary for your next fight, so you’re aware. After this, you’ll have to pay your own way into each battle.

Savile Fist, you’re rank 199. The lowest in the experiment, for reference. Speaking of experiments, look for The Scientist in the cryo lab of Destroy University. You may encounter Chroma at the university too; if you do, ignore him.

Omnivore, you’re at rank 130. You’ll find Rainbow Stakes in the Bow and Arrow Theatre.

Whiteout, you’re rank 146. Maxi Million is in one of the skyscrapers in the Destroy Central Plaza; you’ll get more info on which one precisely when you get there.

Trust your Force, and head for the Garden of Madness.


Anyone checking their bank balances after this would find that they were an appropriate amount of LB$ richer than they had been before, just enough to pay for entrance into their first official ranked match - save Blitzen, who had earned extra to the sum of a single LB dollar after slaying the lower-ranked assassin without being asked. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that such a sum, whilst technically a lot of money, was also a pittance compared to how much she or anyone else would earn by actually trying to rank up.
Dirk Messir - New Gears

'Okay. Go and get more food,' Drik replies, angry that the Bad Liar would Bad Lie to him and Good Liar. There are two types of lies, Dirk knows this, and he is worth the weight to not lie to. He is the best liar who ever existed.

Okay he lied. He wasn't that angry, because he has expected it.

Make up your mind, or start looting. Nobody wants to see your pathetic behind contemplate your navel.

He didn't know where he'd heard the navy before, but he knew naveys were the belly button somehow. He was in had is got work to do though, so he looted. First of all, money, which was a small amount of more money for Dirk and the crew crowing craw. And then food and paint, so that was cool. More food is more food. Yey. Keys. That could be the keeeeeeey to doing cool things. Hah. No, he didn't want it.

'Oh, cool, a knife,' Dirk said as he grabbed the knife handle and flailed it. 'Now I have two knife. Double knifer. I can knifegun people. Yes.'

But knives hurt people Idiot! You cannot knife people Fool! They will die Stupid!

Hush Jamewithaniintheexactmiddle, you don't know knifer techniques. He put that away in the safekeeping spot, then also finds watches and a photo of his family... family was good. I don't want to separate people from their family. I take the watches for watch reasons, and then dropped the pohotograph on the ground with the key on top of it, so that Bad Liar can get his family back later.

And then I also take his coat off him and wear it. It's a nice coat. Dirk can use it as a battering coat.

There isn't anything else to do now, so Dirk instead leaves and probably follows Slipp. Maybe he goes there. Or maybe he wants some things now... if I has two knives, why can't other people also have two knives? Bonesord....... swords are knifes, but long knifes, so a very cool guy can have two knifes. If Slick gets the food properly, Dirk can go to the sword land place for more wepon. Yuy.
@The Fated Fallen I like the post, myself. Given that you didn't actually make any changes or additions to his actions, I do think the end result of Alice's spell on Sett and the sorceress is likely to want resolving by @POOHEAD189 rather than me, though; I'm willing to go along with whatever works, frankly speaking.
Alessa Heather and Raymond Haywood: Trainyard

There wasn’t much Alessa could do to help Lillian until she got out of Epsilon’s nullification field. By the time she had, the dinosaur-girl was already being… thrown? Nay, hurled bodily a fairly large distance, somehow!

‘Tiger Lily!’ Messiah called, eyes wide with shock beneath her mask of light. Whoever was doing that, whoever had hurled the crate earlier and Tiger Lily now, was clearly extremely strong in some way - which rather implied something of an Alexandria package, did it not? And if that was the case… hell. She was going to need a bit more firepower than she’d normally be comfortable using.

Or she would, if Lieutenant Reynolds hadn’t made it clear that the other villains here were starting to make an escape. ‘Thanks for the heads-up, Lieutenant!’ she called, starting to make a dash for the other side of the warehouse. She should have more faith in her allies, shouldn’t she? Reynolds and Johnson were both well-armed, and Lillian was- well, incredible! They’d handle this guy, no problem!

Or they would, if Troll hadn’t made herself known to the people in the station. The parahuman’s mocking voice had Alessa’s eyes widening all over again, and she came to a halt not halfway across the warehouse’s width. Shit… shit shit shit, they’d been set up the whole time. Of course they’d have a backup plan…

But of all people, why did that back-up plan have to be Dean? No, no, no, when did they get to him? This wasn’t right, this wasn’t fair, he couldn’t have just... fuuuuuck! Damn it, damn it, if she’d seen the signs of his departure a couple of weeks back, she could have stopped this, she could have...

God damn it. Who said she couldn’t still fix this? Chatterbox was right, they’d been had good and proper, but there was still hope! Surely there was somebody, somewhere, who could cure Dean’s apparent madness? No way such a person didn’t exist! They HAD to! Which meant she had to get to Dean and… and snap him out of it? No, that wouldn’t work, not looking at how he was acting right now. She’d have to knock him out, then.

Orders first, though. She was a leader, damn it. ‘Lieutenant, Corporal, Private! OPEN FIRE!’ she yelled, followed by ‘Wards, regroup, we’re safer together than apart!’ They couldn’t hope to defeat so many versions of Dean, not the way things were going. Not unless her plan worked...

It was difficult to keep track of him through the swarms of clones he began producing, but not impossible. She knew roughly where he was; she just had to reach him… muttering a mild apology to the empty bodies coming for them, she activated her power for only the second time since she’d gotten here. Not now was she restricting herself to just the one beam; her fingers fired off rays of light that cut through flesh like butter, slicing one clone apart here, decapitating another there, piercing two over here…

Urgh. Oh God, this was awful. No worse than… than her Trigger event… she was barely keeping her guts inside her. But no, she had to keep going. They were fake, they didn’t really exist, regardless of blood spilled, what mattered was Dean - and not being killed herself. Tulpa’s projection was doing a lot of work, apparently absorbing both the Dean clones and the various materials within the warehouse; from his yell and the subsequent death of many clones, it sounded like Margrave had just thrown a car at them.

He was promptly one-upped by who else but the thrower from earlier: an entire train engine was tossed into the crowd, splattering gore and blood everywhere, blocking the original Dean from view as it skidded through the crowd. She… she wasn’t used to this much… Christ, why did nobody ever tell her how horrifically visceral death by crushing was? They just turned into goop and bits… but it was okay. It was fine. She just had to try and stop breathing so quickly and heavily. The smell was what was getting to her, not the sight of so many dead people. Besides, the mass of already-unliving bodies being killed meant the original Dean, or likely the original Dean, was now in view again!

And then, with the sound of an impossibly loud gun being fired, he died.



From the way she phrased her message, Raymond gathered that the person speaking to the two groups was the self-proclaimed Master Baiter. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t heard about her… only, he’d hoped he’d have been able to kill the bitch personally, on the grounds that her ability was a tad ridiculous. He was pretty sure the Protectorate wouldn’t have faulted him for that. Besides, she was already getting on his nerves.

Of course, that would have to wait another time. Right now, he had to get pulled back into the warehouse instead of cutting open one of the wire gates with a knife. Bollocks. But, at least that put everybody in roughly the same spot… now, what was most important? Ensuring he wasn’t swarmed with the clones of this “Overrun”, or ensuring Troll didn’t somehow talk them all into committing suicide?

According to the small mass of bodies running at him, he figured the former. At their current distance, he could spray them with rounds, and be certain that they’d go down so long as he roughly aimed at them; sure enough, by the time he’d emptied the FN P90’s clip and reloaded, he was, at least momentarily, safe. Which gave him a moment to think… there’d been an original, had there not? Perhaps if he slew the original, the rest… yes, yes, that ought to work nicely. And if it didn’t, perhaps he’d still succeed to preventing any more from being produced.

A number of loud crashes, indicating large objects slaughtering masses of Overrun’s clones, gave him time to set up. The gun switched forms, becoming the oversized anti-materiel rifle he used for a lot of his targets before joining the Jacks; he pointed the weapon in the approximate direction he believed this Overrun to be in, based on where he’d dropped down before, then laid it on the ground with its tripod up, laying down behind it and taking up the appropriate sniping position. And finally, he scoped in.

Target: Overrun, the version who started this battle alone. Aim for upper thorax, obliterate heart and lungs. Kill any other clones in path, avoid harm to other Jacks if possible. Shoot.

There. Perfect. And as for the rest… well, they were not vanishing. Of course the asshole managed to ensure the rest lived on. Maybe it had something to do with other, similar clones? Or maybe the whole idea was based on flawed logic to begin with. Either way, there were still clones to take out, and a fight to win. Switching to the morphgun’s M16A4 form, he brought the gun up to a firing position and scoped in again.

Targets: Clones, one at a time. Headshot, kill as quickly as possible, then move to the next clone nearest to former clone’s position. Shoot. Aim. Shoot. Aim. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.



It took Alessa a few seconds to recover from the tinnitus of what sounded like a cannon being fired. It took her a while longer to process... human bodies did not explode like that. They did not suddenly turn into limbs and a head without a torso. They didn’t turn to cinders either. That wasn’t how they worked. They were. They. The.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Jesus fuck Dean was DEAD. She’d failed to save him. She’d failed him. She.. he...

‘Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.’

For a moment, she just sort of stood there, engulfed in a ball of heat hot enough to boil the flesh of any clones that dared to approach. Dean was dead. Dean was dead. Fucking fuck fuck fuck fuck.

And the clones were still coming. Lead your people, Messiah. You can mourn later.

I said lead you self-pitying bitch. Use the. The communicator. Do it.

‘Wards, soldiers, find anyone who’s missing and form up! We’re getting out of here as soon as possible!’

Okay, good start. She almost didn’t sound like she was distraught, too. If she looked through the clones as she cut them down, she could see… who was there, she could see Epsilon, Margrave, Tulpa was probably at the van still. Lieutenant Reynolds and Corporal Johnson were with their respective Wards. Where was Private Skeetz? She couldn’t see him, where was he?

...

Where is the dinosaur. There was a giant dinosaur, and now there is no such dinosaur.

Oh, fuck.

‘Lily! TIGER LILY! Where are you?’

Now she was angry. Their Dean, her Dean, was dead. The rest of them didn’t matter. If they’d hurt one of her charges, then so help her, she’d vaporise them all. As it was, she was merely cutting a swath through them. She couldn’t see Lillian, where was she… shit, what if she accidentally hurt her with her beams? Crap, she- okay, she wasn’t tall. Just… cut off the heads of the clones. That’d leave Lillian alive even if she was on her tiptoes.

Yes, just. Cut through them. Cut through the mass of human but not human bodies. You’ll find her eventually.
@jbeil Ah. Yeah, I don't keep track of rugby at all, so that explains that. Anyway, since we're on the topic of @Andreyich's fable, I liked it quite a bit. It sounds like the sort of thing a more noble member of the Imperial Cult would espouse, especially if they had any knowledge of Slaanesh and/or Chaos.
@jbeil Not at all, and I don't really know what you're referring to there. Mind filling me in?
Alexa's post is up at last, fellas. A bit shorter than I might've gone for, nominally, but I'd say it's pretty good nonetheless.
All in all, Athega Tertius had been a rousing success, to Alexandra's mind. A rebellion had been quashed, the corrupted PDF unit on the planet had been taken down with minimal loss- though of course, those who had been lost were honoured in the end- and the Imperium kept safe from the rot of heresy from another angle. The mere physical damage to her arm had been readily fixed, and though her Chaplet-Ecclesiasticus gained a few more beads and her back a few more scars, Alexa's faith wavered not.

Nor did her workload. In the months after the fight for Athega's sanctity, Alexa's work remained constant, the healing of Imperial citizens and her fellow Battle-Sisters repeating time and again, not to mention the training in matters of combat that all Adepta Sororitae were expected to take upon themselves. Yet the Taneia sector remained oddly quiescent. The closest she came to battle again in that time was when she was called down to Athega Tertius again, not as a fighter but as the doctor for a number of civilians who had been caught in the blast of a rogue element's makeshift bomb. Most lived. A couple were too far gone for anything but the Emperor's Mercy. Another couple of beads were added to Alexa's Chaplet after that.

Nonetheless, she'd trained, and worked, and improved, and to some extent allowed herself to relax a bit more without such pressure upon her. And even so, it was almost a surprise when she heard that she and the other Survivors were wanted again. The same locale, the same Canoness-Preceptor, perhaps the same Inquisitor leading the way to boot. Echoes of her nerves at the time of that meeting returned, and indeed grew into their own tree of worry all over again, such that by the time of her arrival, her visage was hidden within her helm all over again, and no matter that the vox was somehow still not fixed, and that everyone else in the reformed squad seemed happy to be back together. Her aquila sign, in response to those of Lisbeth and Vitruvia, felt half-hearted in her mind, though she was sure it looked perfectly put together.

Speaking of which, you ought to pull yourself together, Alexa chided herself, gritting her teeth. What Adepta sees herself heading off to fight for the Emperor's glory, and worries about such childish things as whether they are worthy of the honour? Your Sisters are perfectly happy to do it. Why not show off your happiness too?

It was almost embarrassing that she had to be her own punisher, but the logical side of her mind won out as a result, and she forced herself to answer Sister Dominica's question in cordial fashion. 'If our formation is any indication,' she replied, rolling her eyes at the vox's harshness all over again, 'I fear we may have another instance of Athega Tertius on our hands, though I cannot claim to know what ills the enemies of Mankind bear for us.'
Collab between BCTheEntity and TheRedWatcher - Bisuto Ketsu and Mitsuhide Nobu


In due course, he produced the final version of his report for the mission, and examined the pages on the computer for any misspellings. Once he was satisfied, he saved the file, then leant back in his chair as he looked around the office he’d taken residence in. Relatively clean. Ascetic, perhaps, but not wholly undecorated; he had a few well-watered plants around, and a small picture of his mother at his desk. He’d have included both of his parents, but his father… his father represented a risk of exposure that he wasn’t willing to take.

Otherwise, the place was quite clear of decoration. Cream-painted walls to help prevent distraction, and not much besides. Speaking of which, Ketsu glanced down at his phone as it beeped, checking the message he’d received. Apparently, his senior partner was about to show up… good thing he’d completed his report, then! He emailed it to the appropriate department, then stood and headed for the door of the office. He supposed he’d meet his superior in the communal area of the building.

Wiping a smudge off his glasses with the end of his exposed button down shirt, he looked at his jeans and running sneakers. Senior investigator, pfft. He probably looked like a desk jockey. Placing his glasses back on his face he continued heading toward Agent’s Bisuto’s office. Lucky for him he intercepted him in the hallway.

“Bisuto Ketsu,” he called out in the hallway in hopes that he would hear him properly. Bisuto Ketsu, huh, he was an odd one. Remarkably better than him he’d have to say, at least at twenty-one and his marks.

Ah, perfect timing. And he hadn’t even gotten halfway there. ‘Agent Mitsuhide,’ Ketsu greeted back with a wave, walking up to Nobu with a lazy smile. He always appreciated the man’s bizarre femininity, but the first time he’d so much as mentioned it had ended with a tongue lashing that took minutes to recover from.

As he enjoyed not being punished for friendliness, he’d never said anything about it since. Other than that, though, Nobu wasn’t too bad - not as weird as Grant, but also good at keeping calm and giving orders in a way that Ketsu one day hoped to emulate. Not that he wasn’t entirely capable of staying calm himself, but nonetheless.

‘So, I take it you’re my senior partner for now, sir,’ Ketsu half-questioned, half-stated, offering his hand to shake. He hoped he’d made a good impression in earlier meetings, but there was no reason to lessen that impression early.

“For now Bisuto? Already trying to best me and rank up,” Nobu teased. He just wanted to give him a hard time to see how he’d take it.

Ketsu’s eyebrows rose slightly at the suggestion, lowering the ignored hand. ‘Oh my, I didn’t realise you had that in mind,’ he teased back, grinning at the First Class Investigator. ‘But if you want to be bested, we can always fight hand to hand, and we’ll see how that turns out…’

Ketsu laughed lightly to himself before shrugging. ‘Ah, I kid. It’s nice to see you again, Nobu,’ he said, still smiling. ‘How’ve things been since we last talked?’

Ketsu had what Grant lacked, a personality to backup his wit and charm. Though Nobu didn’t have fond memories of the first time him and Ketsu met. He wondered if he should hold that against Ketsu, it was just nice to have someone who knew how to still function as a person around here. He started to believe all Investigators ended up broken minded before they died. That this job took their minds, then their hearts, and finally it killed them.

“Ketsu,” Nobu said dryly, “Things have been a bit hectic. As they are around here, these days. With many mysteries. And you? How have things been with you?”

‘Pretty good,’ he replied coolly. ‘I killed a Chimera and flirted with a certain flower idol this morning. With help in both cases, admittedly, but still.’ He’d have mentioned said idol actually fainting, but that’d be saying too much.

‘Anyways, I take it you have orders for me, Nobu?’ he asked. Actually, it’d be nice to talk a little while longer, but he figured Nobu would want to keep things rolling as quickly as possible.

Nobu raises a brow and gives Ketsu a smirk, “Eager to already get back out there. I heard some things about you earlier today, curious rumors. But no, I do not have specific orders for you.”

‘Uhhhhhhhnoideawhatyoumeansir,’ Ketsu quickly blurted out, glancing from side to side with a mockery of suspicion written on his face.

Nobu gives Ketsu a look.

“We were suppose to meet and greet,” Nobu told Ketsu, “Nothing more. I am just teasing. But you have been getting some talk. Good stuff, around the office.”

‘Alright, fair enough,’ he obliged, raising his hands in acknowledgement rather than defensiveness. ‘I mean, in hindsight, it’s nothing too fancy. Chimeras aren’t necessarily exceptionally powerful- well, this one was, but that was mostly just raw strength. And in fairness, Seto was the person who helped me out there, so maybe that does or does not…

‘Pardon me, I’m rambling,’ he apologised. No need to make this meeting too odd. ‘Nonetheless, it was an interesting time. Have you done anything interesting recently, Nobu?’

“First off,” Nobu replied, “Help or not, you took down a chimera. Don’t be modest it makes you look like an idiot. You took down a Chimera, wear it like a badge of honor and sing some praise. Makes you more relatable.”

Define interesting? Rank A and Cs didn’t seem near as interesting as taking down a chimera. He was kind of jealous. Ketsu had become the departments golden canary. Seto saw potential in him and Nobu saw why. Though he wondered if it would upset the current balance in the department.

“Nothing noteworthy,” Nobu said, “I haven’t been given any specific orders. But I also don’t like sitting around.”

‘Well, you are my senior partner, so I guess I have to follow orders…’ Ketsu obliged, a bit of a grin making its way on to his face. ‘I just figured, something like that is a mere change of pace for a First Class Investigator, not strictly that big a deal overall.

‘Though… it was interesting, since we’re talking about strength,’ Ketsu mused briefly. The ghoul’s blood was delicious, first and foremost, but that wasn’t something he was about to admit. But other than that…

‘The fight didn’t take too long, but from what I saw, the ghoul didn’t seem all that smart. Or, at the very least, it was wholly non-verbal, and maybe a bit feral from the way it fought. A bit bizarre, don’t you think?’

It didn’t talk and seemed more feral. Nobu gave Ketsu a considering look.

“That does seem like a bizarre circumstance,” Nobu paused, “Have you had lunch already?”

‘Yeah, I went to a coffee place with some other agents,’ Ketsu confirmed. No matter that he hadn’t actually had any food, but Nobu didn’t need to know that at all. ‘From the look of things, it seems like Grant has a new junior partner - a miss Jericho Yuno? I wonder if she’ll get along better than Grant’s last partner did...’

Nobu began to laugh. Jericho Yuno with Grant? What were they thinking? Oh he knew Jericho Yuno, she was a funny girl and there were some people who talked about her due to her eccentricities when she was a desk jockey. More or less what was said about her is her kiddy grab claw as her quinque, not that he didn’t see that as effective, he saw it having many uses. It’s just their personalities were the complete opposite.

Oh he knew Grant. The man didn’t blink and looked like he could star in his own horror flick as the killer. His half face was the half face of some zombie in some B rated horror action thriller. Grant with someone so carefree, it just didn’t mesh.

Nobu cleared his throat, “Forgive me. But, what was Seto thinking? They are more than opposites, they are the polar sides of two extremes.”

‘Not so extreme as you’d think, actually,’ Ketsu countered soberly. ‘I think the plan is for her to benefit from his experience, and he to benefit from her personality. Either way, so far, Yuno seems to be handling Grant’s quirks quite well. No screaming fits or anything.’

Grant benefitting from another person?

“You think Grant benefits from other people Ketsu?” Nobu said, “You know I was on a case with him once. I prefer not to have that experience again.”

Though if Grant had already hung out with Ketsu, it meant Ketsu was in his perimeter. Which meant Nobu might have to deal with him more. Grant is the obsessive type. Once someone catches his interest, he orbits them in someway or another.

‘Well… honestly, I don’t know him well enough to say if he does or not. Sure, his scars are gruesome, and he has his negatives, but he… ah…‘ Admittedly, Ketsu had stumped himself here. What positive qualities did Grant have, again? Had he not paid attention, or was Grant really that much of a jackarse?

‘...he likes J-pop,’ Ketsu recalled. ‘So that’s a thing.‘

Nobu gives Ketsu a look.

“Are you sure about that?” Nobu asked, “I am pretty sure the pink straw he has is a distraction. Grant likes throwing around false clues.”

Ketsu frowned, then scratched his chin in thought. It did seem odd, when he thought about it. Hell, he was sure he’d thought it odd at the time, then brushed it off as “sure, he’s weird enough to have that as a quirk of his”. It hadn’t necessarily occurred to Ketsu that Grant liked playing games with people, was all.

‘Well, he certainly got an autograph from Himehana earlier. Oh, did I say who I was flirting with earlier?’ he realised belatedly. He might’ve just implied who it was, come to think of it. ‘Grant got an autograph off of her, then Yuno and I flirted with her. Good times.’

“Well Grant is not my favorite subject in the world,” Nobu tells Ketsu, “So let’s move on. Let’s go patrolling instead. I hate sitting in the office if I don’t have paperwork.”

‘Can’t say I disagree with that. Let us proceed, sir!‘ Ketsu crowed, cracking his knuckles and his neck. Oh, but he had a good feeling about this patrol. A good time was in the pipelines, he reckoned, and he was already pumped to see what came around… or maybe that was just some lingering adrenaline from his earlier Chimera battle. Either way.
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