hagroden

Blood Compact: Vampire Genocide

Ved
He was nearly boiling over with rage, the thought of someone daring to counter Kami's word, the Lords word, was absolutely unforgivable. While Kami was correct, that God was just, forgiving, and merciful, Ved was no God, he was a man, and he was a rash one at that. His hand reached down, gripping his blade tightly. A long dagger, with electric ridges that matched the color of his suit exactly. This knife had tasted the bitter nectar that is blood many times, and had been used to assassinate a great number of men and women alike, in his days of godlessness. He had since had the blade layered in silver, and blessed in holy water by a Purge Priest.
"You dare defy your master, and have the audacity to turn your back on him? And above all you threaten the Lord's chosen Pope of Flames? I should cut you down where you stand, for you have turned your back on the lord only to walk in the steps of Satan!"
He roared angrily, his voice portraying the emotion behind his mask. His arm raised, pointing the blade at them as he spoke, hatred coursing through his veins, strengthening him, light began to surge and flash from his hand without the blade, a small, but extremely bright orb of light forming in his palm. So bright, that the sun began to seem dim, despite it's height in the sky.
"Master, I beg of Thee, allow me to cut down these heathens where they stand, allow me to make an example of God's almighty strength!"

Blood Compact: Vampire Genocide

Why do you say that?

Blood Compact: Vampire Genocide

Ved
Having stood silently behind Kami for the last several minutes, he drew out his Pistol at the Idea of Disarming.
"And what?!? Let you heathens and degenerates take up to your arms the very moment we lay are own down? What sort of fools do you take us for?"
He growled angrily, glancing to Kami as he trained his weapon on North.
Surely he wouldn't trust them not to attack.
He thought to himself, glancing again to attempt and reassure himself, as the director was no fool.

The Omega Project

Ved
At around 9 o'clock p.m. he began walking to the park, stopping first to pick up a large cheese pizza with hot sauce. His mother, before she died, had shown him the wonders of Midwestern eatery, which is essentially the combination of things that shouldn't be combined, to produce delicious and hearty outcomes. His mother had grown up in Iowa, but hated it and went to college on the west-coast and loved it, deciding to move there permanently and settle down. She had always loved small towns though, which helped her in picking Grayshire as the location of choice to raise a family. Snapping out of his daydream down memory lane, he looked down at his feet as they limped forward, observing his appearance. He was a bit taller than average, around 6'2, pale as a ghost, and thin as a skeleton. He always looked incredibly sick, like he was on the verge dropping dead, and the way he trudged about didn't make things any better.

He sat down slowly, next to the man he had spoken to on the computer. He then opened the box, and with a very frail, raspy voice, politely asked;
"Cheese and hot-sauce, want a slice?"
As a child, he had nearly died several times, primarily from breathing defects, that in turn effected his voice. He was, if anything, weak, his best force was his eloquent speech and incredible computer and leadership skills.

The Travellers

@Aphelion
Hey, you never posted in response to ved.

The Omega Project

Ved
A messaged popped upon his laptop, and he immediately opened it, finding that someone had triggered his ad system. He quickly forced the opposite computer to download, install, and operate his personal VPN, making both ends of the communication completely secure. He routed a one way camera, viewing the person on the opposite end. After several seconds, he was satisfied that the man was not FBI, nor anyone from a private sector looking to chase him down and hire/force him into working for them. The man looked to be dirty, and young, which was a very good way to suggest that they originated from Grayshire, but he would still run them through a basic questionnaire.

[Hello.]

The single word appeared on the man's screen, in the small white box that provided the chatroom, above the message was the Hacktivists "superhero" name, his nickname to be exact. :\\Ved.mhmn. It was a very simple chat client, using a direct IP communication, causing the computers to talk to each-other directly, through Ved's own private network. That way they could contact each other at any point in time, even if they weren't connected to a Wifi network. While he waited for a reply, he quickly traced down the location of the man, and to his surprise, he was GPS'd in Grayshire. He put his hand on the corner of the laptop screen, using his powers to identify anything and everything this man had ever done in the virtual realm, his realm. His eyes glassed over with a strange blue color, and glowled lightly through his mask as he began to absorb the cyber-existence of this man.

The Omega Project

Oh the digital Ad is the same Icon that he used to spray paint on buildings, so it will show up occasionally on websites that were popular in grayshire, and when you click on it, it opens a chatroom.

The Omega Project

Ved
He was sitting with his back to an alleyway in New York, taking off the free wifi offered by the unsuspecting owners, and luckily for them he was using his own VPN, a virtual proxy network that scrambles and tunnels your IP address, and his was untraceable. His laptop glowed dimly, reflecting on his white mask as he shuffled his feet. The position he was in was more than a bit uncomfortable, having sat their for north of a few hours had truly taken it's toll on his lower half, numbing his entire ass, and sending a tingling sensation, as well as cramps, through his thighs. His hood was up, and the sun was low enough that people wouldn't notice Americas most infamous, and wanted, mutant stealing a middle class family's wifi to attempt and discover who had cut off his live stream.

He was a master hacker, one of the best in the world, even without his powers advancing him into a tier of hacktivist occupied by a single being, himself. Before he had been mutated, and wiped clean off of any official or non records, he had been hired by multiple small to medium sized business for security networking, and had made enough money to purchase components to make his current laptop. Running on a processor so strong and fast it wasn't considered 'consumer friendly,' and therefore not available on any form of public market. So the fact that someone was able to find one of the several loops he left behind, intentionally, was downright astonishing. No matter what he did, he left ways to shut himself down, to level the playing field so to speak.

Unsatisfied with the discoveries mad so far, he decided to resume a small trail of crumbs he had been working on. A way to reach out to other mutants, he had decided to place advertisements that would be noticeable only by people who knew how to look. An Icon he had left spray-painted on every major building, grocery store, and outlet mall in Grayshire. Something you wouldn't have recognized unless you had lived there prior to the bombings. If clicked, the advertisment would send you to an anonymous chatroom, in which he would ask you a few simple questions, and if he was pleased with your answers, would set up a way to meet you, given that you lived within a few hours of him.

The Omega Project

That'd make sense, now do we all know each other or are we totally unaware of each other?

The Omega Project

Hey, I was wondering if I could be the Masked man? If we took away the pyrokinesis part it would really make sense for my character, being a super-hacking mutant and all.