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A bit behind on posting due to some family stuff. Hope to have one up tomorrow.
I had plans for X-23, actually. I'll DM you and see if we can work something out.

Alos, I'm going to edit all my stuff and have Mockingbird take the place of Hawkeye so he'll be free.
You can use Hawkeye. I can edit him out for a different character.
I'll have a few posts up this weekend, true believers.
IC: Leonardo

He could feel his muscles scream as he continued to run from the wave of mechanical mousers following close behind. His brothers flanked him, the sighs of fatigue beginning to show on their faces as well. They had gone longer in fights before, but that was against enemies that tired a lot faster than the mutants did. The mousers, on the other hand, were relentless and remosreless. They had no feelings, thoughts, or muscles to tire. They had their directives, and they were attempting to carry them out. Which, in reality, meant the death of Leonardo and his brothers.

"Leo," Donnie huffed as they ran, "we gotta come up with another plan here. They'll run us down eventually."

"Yea, like, I'm not big on the cardio, bro!" Mikey panicked.

As they continued to sprint down the sewers of New York city, something caught Leo's eye, "Raph, look up."

"Dude, if I trip I am totally kicking your ass!" the biggest turtle growled.

"Just look!" Leo commanded. When his brother glance upwards, he saw the same weakened water pipe Leonardo did. Without wasting a moment, Raphael jumped, slamming his shell into the pipe, causing it to burst, and a torrent of water cut between the mousers and the turtles. "Good job. Now let's get to Stock Tech. Master Splinter and April should be there by now."

**********


Baxter Stockman trudged through the sewer following a team of his mousers that had been following a seperate lead than the parameters he put forth. Stockman didn't make mistakes, so he knew it had to be something big. Could they have found another group of these mutated freaks? Or maybe some other, strange genetic code was scrambling their sensors. Either way, Stockman wanted to see this for himself.

The sewers were disgusting, of course. The air was thick with the smell of decaying matter, and flies flittered about like a black fog. But he didn't care. His mechanical miracles were leading him to a goldmine. He could feel it in his bones.

A wall crumbled as the automatons pulled down the already old and weakened bricks, and a green glow eminated from the anitchamber within. Stockman stepped through, and what greeted him on the other side dropped his jaw. It was clearly a dumping site for hazerdous materials, as there were dozens of glowing cannisters marked "TCRI". Baxter walked over, picking up a cannister and twirling it in his hands, "I wonder what you are..."

A crash behind him almost sent the tube falling to the floor due to his surprise, but Stockman caught it in the nick of time. He turned to fine a lithe, wiry, anthropamorphic cat smashing his mousers with ease, before turning to him, "Now I dunno who you are, but I figure these shiny bastards are your doing."

"I-I-I'm Doctor Baxter Stockman," the inventor attempted to act brave, failing miserably. "The mousers are indeed my creations."

"Yea, well, they've been tryin' ta kill me all day," the cat man, who Stockman now noticed was wearing an eyepatch, cracked his knuckles. "And now you and them have invaded my lovely home here unnanounced and uninvited."

"I didn't mean for them to come after you," Baxter began running the scenarios through his head. "You must share some genetic makeup with the Turtles and-"

"Wait," the cat stopped the man's stammering. "You were tryin ta kill da Turtles?"

"I was," Stockman smiled, and the cat smiled a fanged grin back.

"Well, den, Doc," he grabbed the cannister from Stockman's hands, "da name's Old Hob. I think we're gunna be good pals."

Before Stockman could respond, Hob smashed the cannister over his face, and the green ooze seeped into his bloodstream.

**********


The turtles emerged into the sunlight, shielding their eyes from the bright glare. The torrent of water had put a comfortable distance between their pursuers and them, allowing them to rest a bit on their way to Stock Tech. Waiting for them in the alley near the building were Splinter, April, and Casey Jones.

"I am glad to see you are unharmed, my sons," Splinter smiled at them.

Raph shrugged, "Those metal morons didn't stand a chance against us."

"Except for, you know, that time we ran from them," Mikey added.

"Sensei, we need to end this now," Leo said with urgency. "April, do you think you can shut them down?"

The girl shrugged, "I hope so. I know there's a failsafe, as long as Doctor Stockman didn't disable it."

"Then we must move," Splinter said.

The seven of them slammed through a back door of the Stock Tech building, revealing the army of mousers waiting for them on the other side.

"Of course," Casey sighed as he covered his face with his trademark hockey mask before brandishing a baseball bat, following the Turtles and Splinter into the fray.
Sorry I'm behind on posts. Had to deal with some health problems with my cat this weekend. Posts will be up tomorrow.
Both of my CSs have been added to the depository.


IC: Cobra Commander

He had spent the days since the raid on the FBI perched in front of the screens that lined the one wall of his command center. Guards came in to serve him food and drink when he commanded, and Firefly had stopped by. Other than that, however, the Commander had sealed himself away in virtual isolation. He read file after file, discovering all that the X-Files had to tell him. Each were more fascinating than the last, but his eyes kept coming back to one in particular.

The X-File said that in a remote base under Yucca Mountain, the United States government had been hiding something for decades. The information was spotty, at best, but the rumors circulating around Yucca said whatever was hidden there would change the world as we knew it forever. The people in the towns closest to the mountain claimed they had heard what sounded like great screams coming from its directions, and odd flashes of light in the night sky. They often complained of their electronics and radios acting odd during these moments. The Commander had no clue what was hidden under the mountain, but wanted to know more.

"So you get anything out of this damned wild goose chase?" Firefly asked as he entered the Commander's chambers.

"I have gotten several things from this mission, as a matter of fact," the Commander waved his arm, presenting the screens to hsi friend. "Now the question is where do I go first."

"Well, what were your-"

Before the demolitions expert could continue, the Commander's door swing open swiftly, revealing the masked visage of Destro. The man could show little emotion due to the metal mask he wore, but the Commander could feel the anger pouring off him in waves, "Leave us, Firefly. I must speak to the Commander alone."

The Commander motioned for Firefly to stay where he was, "Last time I checked, Destro, I gave the orders. Whatever you have to say to me, you can say to Firefly."

"What I have to say, Commander," the notes of sarcasm and disrespect hung heavily on his words, "is that you are breaking our agreement by searching out for these...ridiculous weapons. Are my armaments not good enough for your troops anymore? Or should I take my business somewhere else?"

The Commander spoke in cool, confident, and malicious tones, "Destro, do not bring your spineless insecurities to me. Take them to the whore you sleep with from SPECTRE. Yes, I know. This is not a business. Cobra exists to reshape the world and bend those that live in it to our new order. If you have forgotton that, it is high time you remember. Your weapons are more than andequate, but we aim to change the planet, Destro. Sometimes that requires more than bullets and missiles, no matter how advanced they are. Now, leave. Go back to your factory, and continue making me weapons. Do not return here unless you are summoned. Do I make myself clear?"

Reluctantly, he saluted, "Yes, Commander."

Once he was gone, Firefly laughed, "Bit hard on the a-hole, weren't you?"

"I have not need for his petty problems. Men like Destro need to be put in their place periodically. Now, about retrieving my new weapon..."
So can I post if I have one ready?
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