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Fading Memory
Iracebeth
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Neziul
Fetzen
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Hold on, in this AU Lu Ten didn't die? But then Iroh would have been made the Fire Lord, not Ozai. The only reason Ozai overtook his older brother was through manipulation following his son's death.
"There's trouble outside," Little Brother yelled into his comm in the confusion. Kira, he saw, was already on her way out there with incapacitated criminals. "Kira, assist," he called to her, though she was already working on it.
~~~
It was a lack of communication between the Titans that allowed a villain to slip away. As Kira was trying to track the one responsible for the dust, Frost Bite was making it all but impossible by sucking as much of it as he could away, rendering the Turtle's spectral analysis useless with no trail remaining to the origin of the powder. As civilians(and a few police as well) fled the area to avoid the gas attack, it was most likely that the one responsible was somewhere among the rushing throng.
~~~
As a fireball hurtled toward one of the thugs, Torch ignored the impending third degree burns and disfigurement of his comrade, but did finally stop with his burning of the wall. The circle he burned was nearly complete now, and he seemed satisfied with it as he finally faced Vaeros. He spread his arms at the hero, fire spreading across his armspan like wings, smoke emanating heavily from him. "Alright, birdy. Let's burn this motherfucker down." He pointed his hands instead at Sin, releasing a torrent of fire at her.
~~~
As smoke filled the room, Tank took a small glance toward the easternmost wall, and grunted to himself as he looked back at Anchor, in the midst of his rush. He rolled his eyes at the artless charge, and took a small step to the side, grabbing Anchor's shoulder and arm as he approached and using his own momentum to swing him around in a circle and throw him back across the room again. With Anchor out of the way momentarily, he started towards Torch.
Little Brother saw this and called to Silk Worm, "Intercept!" as he himself was charging. He approached from the rear and right side, ready to swing his staff, but Tank swung a heavy arm across Little Bro's path. Billy brought his arms up to absorb the blow with his suit's elbow armor, but it still knocked him back across the room, where he landed awkwardly on his side, and slid rolled and skidded through the broken glass and out the window. He swirled in midair and launched his grappling line back into the room to re-enter the battle.
Silk stood at a distance, and her braided rope struck forward like a snack, wrapping around Tank's leg. Her power extended into his pants, which constricted and worked desperately to stop his movement. The constriction slowed him to a crawl, but only for a moment as he turned and gave Silk the exact same treatment as Anchor: he grabbed the rope and yanked hard on it. Silk was pulled to the ground and dragged across it for a few feet, and as she lost her concentration, Tank continued through the thickening smoke from Vaeros and Torch's fight, now at a sprint that shook the building. At full speed, he struck the circle of molten brick and burnt plaster that Torch had created, and it fell out with a grinding noise and dropped twenty feet into the alley below, followed shortly by Tank himself. He raised a hand to his mouth and whistled loudly through it as he walked toward the news van that was parked in the alley. He got into the driver's seat as Torch leaped backwards out of the hole as well. Torch was forced to jump through the window of the car, landing in Tank's lap as the man behind the wheel reversed out and started driving away down the street.
Little Brother leaped out of the hole immediately after, gliding into the wall as he blinked and coughed the smoke out of him.
"Kira," cough, "The news van. It's," cough, "A getaway car." Cough, "Stop it!"
~~~
It was a lack of communication between the Titans that allowed a villain to slip away. As Kira was trying to track the one responsible for the dust, Frost Bite was making it all but impossible by sucking as much of it as he could away, rendering the Turtle's spectral analysis useless with no trail remaining to the origin of the powder. As civilians(and a few police as well) fled the area to avoid the gas attack, it was most likely that the one responsible was somewhere among the rushing throng.
~~~
As a fireball hurtled toward one of the thugs, Torch ignored the impending third degree burns and disfigurement of his comrade, but did finally stop with his burning of the wall. The circle he burned was nearly complete now, and he seemed satisfied with it as he finally faced Vaeros. He spread his arms at the hero, fire spreading across his armspan like wings, smoke emanating heavily from him. "Alright, birdy. Let's burn this motherfucker down." He pointed his hands instead at Sin, releasing a torrent of fire at her.
~~~
As smoke filled the room, Tank took a small glance toward the easternmost wall, and grunted to himself as he looked back at Anchor, in the midst of his rush. He rolled his eyes at the artless charge, and took a small step to the side, grabbing Anchor's shoulder and arm as he approached and using his own momentum to swing him around in a circle and throw him back across the room again. With Anchor out of the way momentarily, he started towards Torch.
Little Brother saw this and called to Silk Worm, "Intercept!" as he himself was charging. He approached from the rear and right side, ready to swing his staff, but Tank swung a heavy arm across Little Bro's path. Billy brought his arms up to absorb the blow with his suit's elbow armor, but it still knocked him back across the room, where he landed awkwardly on his side, and slid rolled and skidded through the broken glass and out the window. He swirled in midair and launched his grappling line back into the room to re-enter the battle.
Silk stood at a distance, and her braided rope struck forward like a snack, wrapping around Tank's leg. Her power extended into his pants, which constricted and worked desperately to stop his movement. The constriction slowed him to a crawl, but only for a moment as he turned and gave Silk the exact same treatment as Anchor: he grabbed the rope and yanked hard on it. Silk was pulled to the ground and dragged across it for a few feet, and as she lost her concentration, Tank continued through the thickening smoke from Vaeros and Torch's fight, now at a sprint that shook the building. At full speed, he struck the circle of molten brick and burnt plaster that Torch had created, and it fell out with a grinding noise and dropped twenty feet into the alley below, followed shortly by Tank himself. He raised a hand to his mouth and whistled loudly through it as he walked toward the news van that was parked in the alley. He got into the driver's seat as Torch leaped backwards out of the hole as well. Torch was forced to jump through the window of the car, landing in Tank's lap as the man behind the wheel reversed out and started driving away down the street.
Little Brother leaped out of the hole immediately after, gliding into the wall as he blinked and coughed the smoke out of him.
"Kira," cough, "The news van. It's," cough, "A getaway car." Cough, "Stop it!"
"The sun shall guide me, then," Nyame replied politely, letting her ignorant drivel slide. If she was the Archmagister's daughter he thought it best not to offend her by pointing out the flaws in her made up astronomy. He had already come to understand that the stars held little importance to many in these lands. It made it hard for his people to communicate times and dates with outsiders. But he would learn to read a clock and adapt rather than try to educate all of the foolish furless.
He followed the numbered doorways down the hall until he found one that matched his room assignment number. The room disturbed him a little, there were far fewer windows than he was used to, and they were all covered with glass.
"Bright nights," he said to the two already in the room, "I am Nyame Star Caller. I believe we will sleep together."
He was not aware of the double entendre.
He followed the numbered doorways down the hall until he found one that matched his room assignment number. The room disturbed him a little, there were far fewer windows than he was used to, and they were all covered with glass.
"Bright nights," he said to the two already in the room, "I am Nyame Star Caller. I believe we will sleep together."
He was not aware of the double entendre.
To clarify: is it a large room full of beds, or a small room that houses just the three?
Where is Nyame roomed? The dragon lady didn't say.
The sun's almost down, and that meant it was time to go to work.
Charlene was currently squatting in an upscale, furnished, and as yet un-rented apartment. She lay on the plastic covered mattress, twiddling her thumbs for the last half hour. She had been asleep before this, but it was nearing time to go to the meeting, and she was restless, and nervous to see how many - or how few - people had survived. As the natural light from the windows started to give way to streetlights(she couldn't risk running any electricity, or she might be caught by the gauges) she got with a crinkle of plastic, grabbed her pre-packed backpack and threw it over her shoulders. She took a quick peek out the alley-facing window, to make sure nobody was around, and then opened it and crawled up the wall.
As she crawled a thin, mottled purple film began to encroach from under her clothes, covering her arms and legs. It also crawled up her head and across her eyes, but left her mouth free, and her hair hanging out the top. At the top of the building, she "knelt" sticking out perpendicular to the wall, and pulled her backpack off. She pressed it against the bottom of the roof's overhang and purple strands ran off of her arms to secure it to the wall.
With all her earthly possessions stashed away neatly, she back-flipped off the wall from her kneeling position, and slung a purple web out into the night, swinging over the streets.
~~~
Minutes later, she climbed over the edge to meet with whoever was left. Two that she knew. That was it. And something else that she had never seen. As she emerged from the edge and stood, she crossed her arms and looked at the little group. She herself had a little Spidey flair in her "costume," she wore a black denim vest with the Spider-Man's logo ironed on the back, and a smaller version on the front. The vest had a hood, which came up to cover her already masked head.
"Web," she said, "Neo. What's this?" She looked over the two, and then to Tarantula.
Charlene was currently squatting in an upscale, furnished, and as yet un-rented apartment. She lay on the plastic covered mattress, twiddling her thumbs for the last half hour. She had been asleep before this, but it was nearing time to go to the meeting, and she was restless, and nervous to see how many - or how few - people had survived. As the natural light from the windows started to give way to streetlights(she couldn't risk running any electricity, or she might be caught by the gauges) she got with a crinkle of plastic, grabbed her pre-packed backpack and threw it over her shoulders. She took a quick peek out the alley-facing window, to make sure nobody was around, and then opened it and crawled up the wall.
As she crawled a thin, mottled purple film began to encroach from under her clothes, covering her arms and legs. It also crawled up her head and across her eyes, but left her mouth free, and her hair hanging out the top. At the top of the building, she "knelt" sticking out perpendicular to the wall, and pulled her backpack off. She pressed it against the bottom of the roof's overhang and purple strands ran off of her arms to secure it to the wall.
With all her earthly possessions stashed away neatly, she back-flipped off the wall from her kneeling position, and slung a purple web out into the night, swinging over the streets.
~~~
Minutes later, she climbed over the edge to meet with whoever was left. Two that she knew. That was it. And something else that she had never seen. As she emerged from the edge and stood, she crossed her arms and looked at the little group. She herself had a little Spidey flair in her "costume," she wore a black denim vest with the Spider-Man's logo ironed on the back, and a smaller version on the front. The vest had a hood, which came up to cover her already masked head.
"Web," she said, "Neo. What's this?" She looked over the two, and then to Tarantula.
I'm going to try to get to posting now. Sorry for the delay in appearance, you guys. Been busy with work and friends and looking for a new place.
"I had not thought to ask such things," Nyame muttered through his snout. He took the piece of paper gingerly and looked down at it for a moment, working hard to read the symbols that were so new to him. "These," he pointed at the paper, "Are numbers that represent time, yes?" He moved his finger to the first class's time, "Which star sign rules the sky at this number?"
Name: Charlene Springer
Alias: Filth
Age: 17
Powers: Increased agility, strength and durability, especially when engulfed in the Symbiote. Powers increase with the more of her body she allows the Symbiote to bond to. Can create biological projections, which Filth is fond of using to rudely mimic other people's powers(shoot gooey purple webs, create inefficient slimy wings etc.)
Skills:
Personality: Rather create and reveal through IC.
History: One of her biological parents was infected with a Symbiote, and when Charlene was born, so was an infant of the same species, already bonded to her. She was abandoned at birth, she has always thought it was because of her condition, but never knew for sure. She bounced back and forth between foster homes her whole life, and most recently has taken to living on the streets. Her powers have allowed her to go wherever she pleases with impunity, as those thugs who don't already know not to mess with her learn very fast. After Project Excalibur, she's been forced to be much less open about her powers, and has joined the Spider Men and Women of New York.
Alias: Filth
Age: 17
Powers: Increased agility, strength and durability, especially when engulfed in the Symbiote. Powers increase with the more of her body she allows the Symbiote to bond to. Can create biological projections, which Filth is fond of using to rudely mimic other people's powers(shoot gooey purple webs, create inefficient slimy wings etc.)
Skills:
Personality: Rather create and reveal through IC.
History: One of her biological parents was infected with a Symbiote, and when Charlene was born, so was an infant of the same species, already bonded to her. She was abandoned at birth, she has always thought it was because of her condition, but never knew for sure. She bounced back and forth between foster homes her whole life, and most recently has taken to living on the streets. Her powers have allowed her to go wherever she pleases with impunity, as those thugs who don't already know not to mess with her learn very fast. After Project Excalibur, she's been forced to be much less open about her powers, and has joined the Spider Men and Women of New York.
Nyame followed along for the little adventure, but it seemed the great Cadmus had the situation in hand. He directed the students to something called a "registrar," and as it appeared the Small One wasn't a student after all, the two parted ways. Nyame followed the dragon's instructions, down a few halls, following quietly behind some other students.
He came to a smaller version of Cadmus, standing behind a desk. He spoke to the half-dragon, "I am Nyame Star Caller. I seek the registrar."
He came to a smaller version of Cadmus, standing behind a desk. He spoke to the half-dragon, "I am Nyame Star Caller. I seek the registrar."
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