El Gato Naranja

Agents of SHIELD - Concluded

Astrad Lungren

Levittown

Astrad frowned as the members of Hydra swarmed out of the houses in Levittown like a horde of ravenous beasts, or at least, that was what he thought of them. Cold air coalesced around his hands as Astrad brought his Inhuman power to bring to bear, glaring at the Squidheads that were starting to surround them completely in the street. "Hell Hydra..."

Sharp daggers of ice formed into existence all around the group as he used his cryogenic powers once again, glinting with the light of the sun and smoking with water vapor emanating from their utterly cold forms. At the same time, Astrad took the fist of solid ice, withdrawing it from the blasted ruins of the house that he had dented a while ago. It floated menacingly as the ice daggers struck forth unto the nearest Hydra members that were trying to rush the four of them in there, stabbing or impaling no less than six of the Hydra grunts. As their squidly blood spilled out unto the sun kissed pavement, Astrad sent his floating ice fist to plow through another seven, mashing them against a wall like sardines being squeezed into a can. However, their numbers were still very high. Barely a dent.

With the situation getting more dire, he took out his phone and pinged Agent Sitwell. "Agent Sitwell, this is Lungren, Levittown is a HYDRA nest and the three UFOs from earlier are friendlies... where is that secondary team? We are surrounded!"

Academy of Noble Arms - The Golden Generation

Nikolay Ivushkin: The Imperial Fist

---

Nikolay looked ahead into the empty space before him, mentally filing through scenarios that would be able to force him to move. Such was the play style of one whose power was to take absorb and emit the energy of attacks being thrown against him; Nikolay often didn't even move an inch while sparring as he was often completely focused in controlling his Noble Arms to the point of absolute single mindedness. He kept in mind the advice of their teacher: the key is movement.

But... that was hard to do. Not that it was hard to do, actually, but the powers of his Noble Arm simply favoured a static defense. He knew that his Fists had a limit... but what this limit was eluded him. No matter... maybe two gunmen would suffice for this exercise.

And so, they formed in his mind's eye. All this time, though, his real hands were set behind his back in a rather relaxed manner. He had practiced not relying on his hand movements to control the Fists, rather using his pure willpower and imagination for them to follow his commands. In front of him, though, were two faceless figures, both of them wielding the all too familiar AK-47 assault rifles. They were of no distinguishable species; they were but grey shadows that moved like humans. Both of them opened fire with a barrage of bullets, which were quickly met by both of the Fists glowing green, absorbing every iota of kinetic energy that they possessed, resulting in the bullets dropping harmlessly to the mental ground upon contact with the floating hands.

To the outside observer, Nikolay's eyes were now both glowing a ghostly stark white, signifying the kind of energy that his Noble Arms were absorbing. Once the gunmen had exhausted their bullets, they now brought another thing to bare: molotov cocktails.

Now, this was a dilemma. He hadn't figured out how to make the Fists hold two different kinds of energy at the same time, so even as the two figures prepared to throw their fiery gifts, Nikolay had one of the Fists use all of the kinetic energy it had gathered by sending it into a striking trajectory, releasing its stored power by pummeling the shadow's figure to nothingness. However, it was a little too late, as the other cocktail was already in the air. These Fists required a massive amount of willpower and concentration to use, and so, he wasn't able to use the other one to the fullest. It was here that the movement kicked in as he sidestepped to avoid the fiery blast that the cocktail would bring. Sniffling, the now empty hand flew back to take in the fire that was now raging in his mind's eye.

It was quick enough. By the time the last remaining assailant was done reloading, both Fists were now flying towards it. The one that had taken in the flames spewed them back, vomiting out a stream of fire against it even as the other Fist slammed against its torso.

When the simulation ended, Nikolay huffed. That was a tiring thing to do. Still, they had sparring next... Maybe it was best to pair up with the one that also had something similar to hands... who was it... Henry? Yes, him!

"Henry, was it?", he asked the big giant with a wry smile even as his right eye was glowing white while the other was a fiery orange. "I, uhm, maybe we can pair?"

Nathaniel Gregorio: The Blitzkrieg

---

"Oh, hey. Look at who it is.", Nathaniel muttered to himself as he looked at the mental apparition that his mind had conjured. It was a grey ghost, a shadow of the mind's imagination that had no face or mouth, only a shape that was roughly humanoid. It had eyes, though, and they were red. And it was charging towards him in a manner comparable to a banzai charge of the Second World War.

Nath ran towards the shadow, waiting for the crucial opportunity. When it came close enough, Nath slid beneath it (there was an advantage to being short, see?!) and rolled up behind to fire a trio of shots from his Shock Bolter into its back. Still not satisified, he then fired a pair of electromagnetic blasts from his hands, making sure that the training dummy was truly taken down. This was a move that he saw in the movies... never knew that it would work. Surprise and size were at his size, then.

Now, it was time to spar. He was barred from having a ranged slugfest with Jordan, so he was now unsure who to spar with. Oh wait! Swords! Yes. Swords. Oscar? Yes.

Daintily, he approached Oscar, trying not to have stiff neck from looking up to the much taller white boy. "Partners?"

Agents of SHIELD - Concluded

Astrad Lungren

Levittown, Pennsylvania

---

"So, you really didn't just fall off some plane and were actually in flight mode?", Astrad replied to Amelia as the latter suggested to just go fly in the skies above like eagles with wings. A good look at Amelia would tell him that this was the kind of person that didn't like tunnels; one who adored freedom above all else. Of course, he was something like that as well; after all, he didn't comply to Sitwell's orders to the letter, instead preferring to do things his own way. And now, well, he had been spared of a bad case of friendly fire. Still, there was the matter of HYDRA's grunts that had indeed infested this neighborhood like a virulent plague of squidheads and mindless minions that had a thing for tentacles. Astrad was about to launch his cryogenic powers against the building that had been shooting at them when Maria fired a blast of wind that blew the entire thing apart. It was a mesmerizing sight, to see the house explode into splinters through the power of the wind. Did the wind have color? Nah. What a shame. Could have been called the colors of the wind.

"Alright.", Astrad said as he kept the ice shield in the ready. "I'll just go with what you said, as it looks like you know better-"

It was at this moment that a weighted net shot out of another house to the right, ensnaring not just one, not two, not three, but all four of them. Astrad, however, remained calm under the net as he brought no less than a dozen ice hooks into existence that coalesced from the cold air that emanated from his hands. Wasting no time, the hooks were brought to bare with his cryokinesis, ripping open a hole in the net that was large enough for him to get out of. Jumping out of the net, he glared towards the house out of which the net gun had been fired, fury filling his eyes. Clenching his fist, Astrad brought his icebound power to bare once again, this time creating a massive hand made of ice. Recollection flashed in his mind as the hand clenched itself into a fist in response before pummeling the house, creating a dent on the wall. Destruction.

"Are we going to fly or what?", Astrad looked around frantically as he hid behind the ice shield that he had conjured earlier. "I might not be able to do that again if we get netted again."

Agents of SHIELD - Concluded

---

Astrad Lungren

Levittown, Pennsylvania

"They have found us.", Astrad said to all of them in a fit of urgency as he got up from the ground with a very surprising speed for man that just got pummelled by a kick, a wind blast, and an electric surge. There was no mistaking it. HYDRA's grunts have detected the arrival of the trio of women; after all, seeing three unsavory characters drop out of the sky like that was surely a strange thing to see, and if HYDRA's previous incursions have been any indication, they will seek out enhanced assets and taken them in through the Faustus Program. Or take them out, if they cannot be subdued. And there were no less than three enhanced individuals in this one place alone...

"I know a way out of here. Follow me to the safe house. There is a trap door that leads directly to the tunnels under this place... that is, if you don't mind the smell of the neighborhood's collective waste."

He did not waste any more time as he conjured an ice shield, positioning it with his cryokinetic powers to shield himself and Sparks from gunfire. "Just so we are clear, I totally do not mind the tousling you gave me."

Absolute Comics - Justice Rising

Mmmmhhh...

Discord link is broken... Is this open?

Writing Club (Comedy School-based RP)

Sasha Kardashev

---

Well, well, well, look at we have here. Utter disrepair, a sea of dust, furniture that looked like it will break down the moment someone sat on them, and a computer that seemed to be suffering its final death throes. The members of the club were all arranged in a U shaed formation, with the chairs creaking with every little movement that they did. This was a terrible contrast to the great stories his other had told him about her time in this university; she said that the Writing Club had one of the best bases in the entire academy. But now, it seemed that they switched places with none other than the poverty club.

The bloody poverty club! Oh hell no!

Sasha right now was using a cane to balance himself, as he had a bad football injury a few years back; it was enough to warrant the doctors to prohibit any more playing for the foreseeable future. He had his laptop in his bag, which is what he used to write his ieces (to be more specific, he always used Google Docs so that his progress isn't lost if the computer decided to crash.). Furthermore, he ws sipping on a cup of coffee that had whipped cream on top. Probably Starbucks.

Right now, though, there was the mandatory introduction. And now he decided it was his turn.

When the words left his mouth, there would be the marked accent of a Muscovite Russian, though it ws nowhere as hard or boorish as the stereotypes often say. "My name is Alexander Kardashev, though you can just call me Sasha, or Alex. I have a slogan to suggest, but I fear it could be lost in translation. Anyway... ehem. Knowledge is power. Guard it well. Does that suffice? Maybe, I think. Anyway. Good to meet you all."

@Rusty@pentagoon@Aces Away@ES@Rithas@Quattro Bajeena@Sanguine Rose

Writing Club (Comedy School-based RP)

Sasha Kardashev

Appearance:

Text Colour Hex Code: 0076a3

Name: Alexander Kardashev
Aliases: Sasha, Lemons, Kardashian, Sleepyhead, Coffee Maniac, Food Source, Comrade
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 76 kgs
Birthday: September 8
Blood Type: O
Languages: English, Russian, Finnish, Kartvelian
Birth Place: Moscow, Russia

Age: 18

Gender: A Man

Genre: Science Fiction/Documentary

Habits:
> When writing out dialogues he often talks to himself.
> He laughs loudly. And then cackles, and then gasps and coughs.
> Alexander almost always has a cup of Starbucks while writing.
> Likes to cuddle. Quite a bit.
> He's a hand holder. So...

Likes:
> Fluffy animals (cats, dogs, foxes, ferrets, minks, otters)
> Pizza
> Pasta
> Starbucks Coffee
> Boba
> Your love
> Your affection
> The cold

Dislikes:
> Pineapple on pizza
> Degeneracy
> Insectoid things
> Communism
> Being labeled with stereotypes

Fear(s):
> The desert
> Heart attack
> Blood

History: Alexander's origins are very sketchy, as it is not something he really tells anyone else in the school. He was an abandoned infant when his "parents" found him. Sasha was left on the side of a street in the downtown area of Moscow during a rather bad winter, seemingly abandoned to the cold embrace of death by whoever had decided that he was not worth raising. However, it just happened that he was placed at the doorstep of a childless couple that were desperate for a kid at the time. Katyuha and Andrey Kardashev found this crying child upon returning home from a grocery run. He was cold, but other than that, Sasha was unharmed.

He was, as his adopted parents said, a blessing. Sasha grew up with the same passions as his mother, who was a journalist for the Moscow Times, and took upon himself to be an avid reader. He would have a younger sister named Shatalina, who was also adopted as Katyusha was infertile. Alexander treasured his sister very much and they are quite close to this day.

At school, he was known to have a delicate balance in personality. Sure, he was a little awkward when talking with someone for the first time, but he opens up pretty quickly and has no shortage of friends, though he always had this inner circle that he trusted the most.

The time soon came when he would come to the same school that his mother graduated from. How grand indeed were her stories of their club. The glory that the Writing Club possessed was some of the greatest since those halcyon days… and now, the shock of finding the club in utter disrepair in direct contrast to his mom's stories. Still, Sasha will not give up just because of this. If anything, this is a challenge to overcome, and he likes challenges!

Dream:
> To make a living out of writing
> Be a respectable journalist
> Find love

Writing Club (Comedy School-based RP)

Appearance:

Text Colour Hex Code: 0076a3

Name: Alexander Kardashev
Aliases: Sasha, Lemons, Kardashian, Sleepyhead, Coffee Maniac, Food Source, Comrade
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 76 kgs
Birthday: September 8
Blood Type: O
Languages: English, Russian, Finnish, Kartvelian
Birth Place: Moscow, Russia

Age: 18

Gender: A Man

Genre: Science Fiction/Documentary

Habits:
> When writing out dialogues he often talks to himself.
> He laughs loudly. And then cackles, and then gasps and coughs.
> Alexander almost always has a cup of Starbucks while writing.
> Likes to cuddle. Quite a bit.
> He's a hand holder. So...

Likes:
> Fluffy animals (cats, dogs, foxes, ferrets, minks, otters)
> Pizza
> Pasta
> Starbucks Coffee
> Boba
> Your love
> Your affection
> The cold

Dislikes:
> Pineapple on pizza
> Degeneracy
> Insectoid things
> Communism
> Being labeled with stereotypes

Fear(s):
> The desert
> Heart attack
> Blood

History: Alexander's origins are very sketchy, as it is not something he really tells anyone else in the school. He was an abandoned infant when his "parents" found him. Sasha was left on the side of a street in the downtown area of Moscow during a rather bad winter, seemingly abandoned to the cold embrace of death by whoever had decided that he was not worth raising. However, it just happened that he was placed at the doorstep of a childless couple that were desperate for a kid at the time. Katyuha and Andrey Kardashev found this crying child upon returning home from a grocery run. He was cold, but other than that, Sasha was unharmed.

He was, as his adopted parents said, a blessing. Sasha grew up with the same passions as his mother, who was a journalist for the Moscow Times, and took upon himself to be an avid reader. He would have a younger sister named Shatalina, who was also adopted as Katyusha was infertile. Alexander treasured his sister very much and they are quite close to this day.

At school, he was known to have a delicate balance in personality. Sure, he was a little awkward when talking with someone for the first time, but he opens up pretty quickly and has no shortage of friends, though he always had this inner circle that he trusted the most.

The time soon came when he would come to the same school that his mother graduated from. How grand indeed were her stories of their club. The glory that the Writing Club possessed was some of the greatest since those halcyon days… and now, the shock of finding the club in utter disrepair in direct contrast to his mom's stories. Still, Sasha will not give up just because of this. If anything, this is a challenge to overcome, and he likes challenges!

Dream:
> To make a living out of writing
> Be a respectable journalist
> Find love

Academy of Noble Arms - The Golden Generation

Nikolay Ivushkin | The Imperial Fist

---

"Well, there's that.", Nikolay quietly said as he watched Cynthia walk off and run her laps, presumably after hearing whatever Henry had to say at her. It seemed that she was offended, maybe frustrated by what he had told her. To be fair, Cynthia was outspoken when it came to injustice and unfair practices, but she was sometimes... for the lack of a better word, overboard. Sure, Virgil and those old money rich kids that surrounded him like a legion of concubines were a bad influence towards anyone that got near them or associated with their infectious alliance, but to call Virgil a cancer was a little too much for his tastes. Actually, that was too nice. A far more fitting term would be bespawling cumberworld with the mind of a daft and the madness of a bag of two ferrets. Huh. Now that was neat... and less likely to be understood by the party unto whom that insult would be thrown. Right? Right? RIGHT?

Sadly, though, it looked like someone had just done a bad job at jumping. Oscar... that goofy American... of course it was him. He never failed to amuse Nikolay even though the latter looked like a distant observer at most times. That looked bad, though, and Nikolay sent his floating hands to Oscar to get him up. "Heya, howdie, eylo.", he greeted Oscar, getting down in front of the other boy. "Do we need to call the nurse for this?"

Nathaniel Gregorio | The Blitzkrieg

---

Meanwhile, Nathaniel was still busy running his laps when Oscar had fallen. He was about to run to the boy that let him backhug him and use his shoulders as a headrest, but Nikolay was already there, using his other pair of hands to help the American. "Oh, okay."

He looked around just to hear Henry invite Hailey to dinner. He was a little envious... but he was going to temporarily stop running right now. He had short legs, after all, and go tired pretty quickly; Nath had always relied on his power to get to places at speed, never mind that he had terrible exits.

"Hailey.", he said as he walked over to her. "Is that... oh, it's his number, isn't it?"

[@The3King0fChaos] @Landaus Five-One

Agents of SHIELD - Concluded

Astrad Lungren

Levittown, Pennsylvania

"Ouch... that hurt."

Astrad slowly stood up from where that lady with electric powers had thrown him towards, slightly pained and dazed, but very much alive and well. It was going to take a lot more than that to take him down, and a little more to actually knock the daylights out of his mind. He had been hit with worse things in the time that he had been an Agent of SHIELD. His mom often complained in her calls that his job was too dangerous, even more so than his time as a detective for the Stockholm Police Department, but he had no intention of coming back to that old desk job that bored him to hell. No. Operations and fighting the enemies of humanity was his thing now. But this people were apparently in a very bad mood.

"Okay...", Astrad stood back up, stretching his bones and joints as he recovered from the attack from earlier. "I see and I am sorry. Now we have to-"

whoosh. The third and last member of the female trio had just sent a blast of wind against him, knocking him back even further by fifteen feet. Ouch.

"I really need you people to stop doing that...", he said as he stood up relatively quickly, even after getting slammed with three separate attacks. To be fair though, none of them were just expressions of frustration, or so he gathered. "I should tell you that my orders from Agent Sitwell were to take you down if I had a clear shot, which is in this case... cough, a sniper bullet. You should give me more... credence. He said that you were not ours."
Facepalming himself at the incident, he shook his head and adjusted his scarf to make sure it was still covering his face. "You need to get off the street. Now. The Fenris Twins and HYDRA's grunts are lurking in this area. They may have detected your arrival."

If there was one thing that the three might notice, it was that this man had a marked Swedish accent. Probably because he was Swedish.