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In the minds of

Location Doctor Faust's Manor - Outskirts of the city
Part IV / Finale

18:45 PM - The Next Day

Joseph was having nightmares. Fragmented, fractured and broken, like he was looking at them through the shards of a broken mirror, but everytime he tried to peer into a shard, he was flung into another dream. It was exhausting and terrifying. The only things he could comprehend were darkness and evil, a unimaginable amount of evil. Hatred, rage, anger, vengeance and self-vindication. And the voice. That god damned voice. Murmuring in the darkness, as if from the abyss below, howling at him and mocking his despair, his confusion and his pain deep down into his subconcious. He woke up with a turn, twisting in the bed, looking over to his side. He was in a different room now, on the other side of the building after the break-in the previous night.

Before him sat a shadow on the edge of the bed. Well, not quite a shadow. It was hard to tell what it was. It looked like the silhouette of a man, arms, legs, torso, head. But there were no features on the man, only a distorted outline that looked a almost fuzzy kind of red in the darkness. "What the fuc-" He exclaimed, as the shadow quickly put it's finger to it's mouth and shushed him, and for some reason he did it, almost instinctively. Like a dog following the orders of it's master.

"You've been asleep for far too long, child. It is time for you to awaken. There is much work to be done. The voice spoke, the same one he had heard before. But this time it was so much clearer, almost unbearable. It felt like it was coming both out of the man itself, but also from the very room itself, echoing like the most expensive home cinema in the world. At some point it would've hit Joseph that the voice was also coming from inside of him, it was echoing inside of his head and all around him. There was no escape. Yet, the old detective wasn't scared. No, he was terrified. But he wasn't going to try to run away, not at all. He was oddly calm in his terror, almost rational and this was the first bit of clarity he had felt since he had woken up for the first time two weeks ago.

"Who are you?.. What are you?" Joseph spoke, carefully and the man shifted on the edge of the bed, and then he smiled, a red streak appeared in the almost void-like blackness on his face.
"You got balls, kid." The voice said with a chuckle that almost shattered the windows.

"An all mighty lord of hell - King of Demons shows up at your bedside, and you ask me for my badgenumber? I'm impressed. The voice admitted coyly, a playful smirk on his face.

"A.. a demon? Hell?"

"What do you think those visions you've been having are? It's your feeble human brain trying to grasp what the big oven's really like. Well, what's left of your brain after I pieced it all back together for you. Was quite the mess, it being spilled all over the road after you got killed."

"I.. Died? Bullet, right? Joseph fumbled, feeling the scar on the back of his head.

"You didn't just die, Joseph. You got destroyed. Executed like a dog in the street. No one came for you. No one to help you. No one but me."

"But it's a miracle that I'm alive." Joseph tried to protest and the voice laughed at him - not with him this time.

"It wasn't a miracle that brought you back to life and pieced you back together. No miracle could do that. Me, however? Not even a sweat. That's our deal, after all. The demon taunted him as Joseph got vertigo and felt like he was shot out of a cannon and into a brick wall, a falling sensation as he woke up - this time for real. Drenched in sweat, his new hand had pierced the mattress and tore the bed almost in half. His heart was racing and he felt like he was about to fall apart. A sense of terror he had never felt before, an adrenaline rush than he had ever felt during his times in a war zone. He was quivering, freezing and sweating like a pig. His jaw hurt from clenching his teeth too hard. amongst the visions he had seen in his dream one thing remained constant, the pressence of the woman. The woman who's name is forever etched onto his wrist.


He had to get out of here.

I just wanted to take some time to appreciate the following folks who have ensured that my latest roleplay, Santa Celia: A Superhuman Story, has gotten off to a strong, solid start. These players have taken to each other in a way I haven't seen in a long time and have taken what little guidance I've given them and run off to create something beautiful. Characters have just organically clicked in the IC and you can see the plot threads hanging there, just waiting to unfold. So thank you to all of you:

I want to give an extra special thanks to my Co-GM, @Hillan who is also my oldest friend on the Guild, our shenanigans having survived even the infamous Guildfall. As well as my other Co-GM and newest friend, @JunkMail who has been very insightful and overall joy to work with.

I am very much looking forward to watching our stories continue to unfold as we build and shape the world of Santa Celia together and with whomever else might join in later.

Once again, thank you guys for such a great GMing experience already. Here's looking at 40 and looking towards 400!

I basically second everything this man said about Santa Celia. A happy surprise, for sure.
In the minds of

Location Doctor Faust's Manor - Outskirts of the city
Part 3

03:41 AM

The night was drawing to halfway done and the sun would rise in another 3 hours. Joseph was asleep, but barely. He was slipping in and out of consciousness, having a dream - a nightmare. He was reliving the night. From the savage beating he took, the baseball bat and wrenches they used to break just about every bone in his body, how they destroyed his knees, pulled out every finger nail and pulverized his ribs with kicks. How they burned his hand to the bone with the welding torch. Finally, they brought back the bat and the biggest of the bunch, Tomas 'Triggerman' Scaletti, hit Joseph with it, hard enough to crack his forehead and knock him out cold. a 40 minute drive to the other side of town, just him and Scaletti where Scaletti put him on his knees at the crossroad outside of Faust's mansion and pulled the trigger.

His eyes shot open as he felt the scar on the back of his neck - the scar from the burning hot pipe of the gun burn once again. He heard voices inside of the house. A break-in. Looters.

They hadn't entered the room he was in, instead walking around in the main hall downstairs, Joseph crawled out of bed and peered out of the door he was in. They were armed. Two of them with baseball bats, a third with a shotgun. He could clearly tell that the two armed with the bats carried handguns in their waists. They weren't just random burglars. They were hitters.
Joseph was still far from lucid, his motor skills barely worked. He could barely stand and his head was still ringing by a billion wasps.

But he knew that he couldn't call the cops - he'd never make it to the phone. The Doctor was probably asleep in his lab which Joseph somehow knew was a panic room and was certainly able to barricade himself in it. "Where the fuck is that Conjo Detective?!" One of them told the others.

So they are here for me. Joseph thought. How did they know he was still alive, more so, how did they know he was here?

"Check upstairs, puto." The other one said to the guy, whom shrugged and headed upstairs, bat in hand.

Joseph quickly looked for something - a weapon. It wouldn't take long for the thug to make his way up the stairs and into the guest quarters - it was a logical layout of the house.

You're gonna die. Again. The voice within him mused. Joseph shook his head. He was weak, and he was tired. But he hadn't beaten death once already just to get killed while in recovery. It just wouldn't play out that way.

Looking around for a weapon, it dawned on him as he saw the silhouette of the thug coming around the corner that he didn't need a weapon. He had titanium plated knuckles. He hadn't really thought of his new hand earlier. It hadn't dawned on him that the doctor had amputated his the one Scaletti had taken apart and burned to a crisp. Joseph as silently as he could, shifted towards the other side of the door, so the thug couldn't see him upon entering the room. He didn't have much sense for balance, so standing up was incredibly difficult and not an activity worth pursuing at this point.

He waited. counted the steps. four, three, two- the man opened the door.

One. "Fuckin' Mice." The thug exclaimed as he checked the room. Though, he was stumped when he saw the very clearly recently used bed. "Ay, hombres! Bed over here. Recently slept in!" He shouted, turning around and as he did, he saw the gold eyes of the detective flash as the dark grey of the metal hand pulverized his face. The guy fell to the floor and Joseph did the same, losing his balance. The thug was knocked out cold and his entire face from eyebrow to cheekbone was bleeding - looking almost caved in. Like he had been hit with a sledge.

"The fuck happened. Carlos?!" One of the other men shouted and headed up the stairs. Joseph would have scrambled for the thug's gun, but he never had much of a chance to do so. The other two thugs were running up the stairs, Joseph had to abandon his quarters and moved into the corridor, hiding in the shadows. One of the men walked into his quarters, seeing Carlos's limp body on the floor. "What the fuck happened?!" He shouted, cocking the shotgun, the other man was pulling his gun, as Joseph tackled him from behind, pushing him into the other.

"That's fucking him! Puto!" The thug shouted as he scrambled to his feet from the floor, Joseph turning around and limping out into the corridor, putting some distance between the two. Swiping a vase from the shelf above, he swiftly turned and flung it at the thug exactly as he turned the corner. It hadn't dawned on him how impressive that timing was, he was too busy trying to figure out how he was gonna avoid getting filled with buckshot. The man with the bat cursed as the vase hit him, glass shattering. It didn't knock him out, but it certainly pissed him off. He came charging at Joseph with the bat, which was a gift in disguise, as it kept the other thug from shooting him with the shotgun - not wanting to shoot his partner. Joseph could see the trajectory of the swing of the bat and his metal hand caught the metal bat and a loud BANG was heard. Joe janked the bat towards him, disrupting the thug's footing a little, the thug used the momentum to tackle Joe, sending him to the floor on his back, falling to one knee himself. Joseph used the bat to pull himself off the ground, and as the thug was reaching for his pistol, he swung the bat into his chest, knocking him to the side. His hand slid accross the length of the bat as he held it like a spear, and flung it at the doorway, hitting the man with the shotgun in the shoulder. A shell escaped the gun, hitting the wall to the side. The man fell to the floor and swiped the bat from the ground, swinging upwards at Joe, whom tried to catch the bat but was hit in the ribs, wincing in pain but not losing focus. He went for the second swing wit hthe bat that Joe parried with his forearm. Grabbing the arm of the thug with his regular hand, the metal one came in, closing the distance and decking him in the face, sending him once again to the floor, this time out cold. Teeth and blood sprayed across the wooden floor.

Joe was holding his side as he pushed his back against the wall, keeping his balance as he grew more and more dizzy, moving towards the thug in the hallway, whom was now coming too, he reached for his gun and pointed it as Joe got in close enough to grab him. He tried pulling the trigger, but the safety was still on. Joseph caught him by the throat and with surprising amounts of ease lifted him up to his knees, pushing him against the wall.

"What. The. Fuck. Do you want? He spit the words out while putting more and more pressure around the man's throat, too hard for the man to be able to breath, never the less speak, he was fighting against the iron grip but there wasn't much he could do.

It'd be so easy. Just crush his windpipe. You know you want to. Squeeze a little bit harder. The voice said coyly. The thug fell to the ground as Joseph released his grip, holding his throat. "Ff-Fuck you." He wheezed and Joseph swiftly, albeit painfully, punched him in the face, knocking him out.

Yeah well I'm UNhappy to help and you DEFINITELY canNOT pm me at any time if you think there's anything I can do to help.


I wasn't going to, anyway, thanks.

@Skai, @Dusksong, @CaptainPotato, hey folks just doing a weekly check-in and just wanted to know if any of you were struggling coming up with a post and if I could help out in any capacity?

Let me know if I can help at all!

Likewise. Happy to help. Shoot me a PM or hit me up on Discord if anyone has organized crime-related ideas they wanna ball around.
In the minds of

Location Doctor Faust's Manor - Outskirts of the city
Part 2.

9:06 Today

Taking with the doctor, standing up and reading all felt like completely new sensations, like he had never experienced anything before. He felt like a newborn baby in the sense that every sensation was new. Ever experience was a new one. Every little tension and tinge in his body was fresh. He felt like he had woken up in someone else's body, on that wasn't his own. Like he was dreaming while being asleep at the wheel. Yet, it wasn't just unpleasant, even if his head was still throbbing and it felt like his head was the new home for a colony of pissed off wasps. His right hand felt normal, he could feel things he grabbed even though he could clearly see the mechanical part of his body. He was flabbergasted at the prospect that he hadn't just knocked on death's door. He had been kicked through it and down the stairs to the dark and damp basement of oblivion.

Doctor Faust explained to him that he hadn't had a close death experience. He had been dead, for more than an hour. Faust had explained to him what he had done to save his life. The nanites and the mechanical parts. The buzzing he felt in his brain was the nanites repairing his cells, essentially piecing them together like the world's most complex puzzle. His brain was fragmented and repairing the parts of the brain that were dying due to the whole being dead part with new cells.

"That sounds impossible, Doc. I couldn't have been dead. Science can't bring people back from being dead that long."

"It wasn't just science that saved you, boy. It was something more. A miracle. I'm not a man of faith, but it wasn't just my nanites and augmentation prosthetics that has you sitting here in front of me. I was desperate to not give up on you, even though you had no signs of life during my procedure. Yet, your pulse came back as I was piecing you back together. It was quite the challenge to stop the blood from leaking out of you as I had opened your skull, I must say. The doctor admitted, his voice sounded uncertain but at the same time intrigued. It was clear that while Doctor Faust might've been the most intelligent man Joseph had ever met, even he didn't have the answer as to why Joseph was back in the realm of the living.

"Fact that you are alive, talking and able to move at all at this point is astonishing. The nanites are working very fast at restoring your motor functions, though, they cannot restore your brain completely to the condition it was before the trauma. That's where the processors I implanted into you becomes handy. As Faust explained, Joseph felt his long scar reaching through the back of his head, from his temple on the left side all the way back of his head where he felt the big circular scar from the gunshot.

" I have computers in my brain?"

"And your hand, shoulders, arms, legs and spine. Everywhere I put the motors to replace the organic tissue that was too damaged to be repaired. I was worried about power consumption, I couldn't very well implant batteries into you, but they're feeding off of your natural bioenergy. Which, for the record, you have the highest amounts of I've ever observed. I've seen the biology of many people with extraordinary abilities, but none of them had levels as high as yours. Were you powered before your injury, Detective?

"You're asking me if I had super powers? I was a cop. Not a hero."

And you'll never be one the whisper from deep within his head mused, and his head hurt even more. He flinched from pain and held his head with his left hand.

"You need rest, Mr.Dark. I'll run diagnostics on you tomorrow and we'll do further testing. I'd like to see if we can teach you to walk, read and write tomorrow. The doctor said, as he nodded to the sandwich and glass of water he had brought with him previously to the room that was sitting on Joseph's bedside table.

"I an quite hungry.. I guess I haven't eaten anything in 4 months." He said with a soft smile, the first time in almost half a year.

Oh I didn't check here. Somebody else is in charge of gang stuff. That might affect my post. Could I have a partial handle over the asian gang factions? I kinda already claimed one, but I have another one involved.

Shoot me a PM about whatcha planning and what have you, and we'll work something out.

In the minds of

Location Doctor Faust's Manor - Outskirts of the city
Part 1.

10:18 P.M| Two weeks ago.

The night was quiet in the outer rim of Santa Celia within eyesight of the Tlaloc Falls, the sound hum of the stream could be heard in the distance as the dark manor looked as abandoned and horror movie-esque as ever. Doctor's Faust's home had been seemingly abandoned for the better part of two years, ever since Estelle Faust, the Doctor's daughter and assistant was killed and Dr. Faust lost his funding for his experimental clinic. William Faust had lost everything and had thus chosen a life of exile. He hadn't been seen in the public and he hadn't attended any of the usual outing he would've been spotted at. He had been working tirelessly in the lab in the basement of the manor, barely eating and rarely sleeping.

But now, there was purpose to his madness, four months ago, in the summer heat of July, he had left the house for the first time, heading down towards the river outside of town, the forest was peaceful to him, it made him calm. Estelle had always invested they'd take walks here, and he had never had the guts to walk it on his own since her passing. But that night he came across the loud cracking of thunder from a steel barrel as a brave detective was murdered. He came running and the sound of his footsteps and yelling scared the gunmen away.

Now, it was four months later and the victim he had stumbled upon, as if a sign from the lord above, was resting in the only bedroom that wasn't covered in dust. He had been in a coma ever since that night, but thanks to the Doctor's intervention and a life force that the doctor had never seen during surgery, the policeman had survived - well, most of him had.

He opened his eyes, slowly, groggily. Everything was blurry, his head was pounding, oh god, the headache. He felt like a million hornets were buzzing inside of his skull. He didn't recognize where he was. In fact, he didn't even know who he was. He couldn't move his body, he couldn't speak - he didn't know how. A alarm went off from the clock and he heard something, the patter of feet on the wooden floor. Everything went dark again.

7:45 P.M| Today

His eyes opened again, still with the insufferable headache, but now, he was able to move again, he sat up and moved his legs, trying to stand up. Once he did, he lost his balance and fell to the ground immediately, pulling down the glass that was on the table next to him as he went down, the glass breaking upon impact, shattering and he could relate to the glass as it broke into a million pieces. It was mesmerizing how the glass broke apart with the loud bang upon impact.

He felt the cold metal against his skin and the burning sensation as the projectile emerged from the chamber, the pain of it breaking his skin and then nothing. Darkness. He was alone in the darkness. And yet, somewhere from the deep, a voice whispered a command.

Stand He heard the voice both in his memory and in the present, as he laid there on the cold wooden floor, watching the small shards of glass spread across the floor.

"Stand please." The doctor asked, as he was hunched down over the larger man, helping him up. He saw the doctor's tired face, the dark bags under his eyes and his pale skin. Despite the decrepit appearance, the man had an everlasting kindness that almost radiated from his face. "C'mon, up you go." William told him as Joseph grunted.
".. My head.. Hurts." He mumbled, holding his forehead.
"You should be so lucky that it hurts, detective." The doctor said with a small scoff, Joseph could not understand his amusement. They moved towards the bed, where Joseph sat down.

"Now, tell me. What's your name?" He asked and Joseph shook his head.
"We've done this before, detective. What is your name?" He repeated the question, this time with a sterner tone than before.

"Joe... My name is Joseph." The wounded man mumbled out, holding his head still.

"Excellent, Joseph. Now, tell me what you are." The doctor said, patting him on the shoulder, his eyes were looking at the dark metal hand and matching servos in his shoulder, elbows, ankles and knees as well as his spine.

"I.. I am alive."

I'm dropping out, sorry y'all. Good luck, though!

Telepathy and / or Telekinetic's a good show. Phasing / Density manipulation's another one. Looking into some established superheroes can be a good inspiration and figuring out what part of their abilities you can think of new and cool things to use it for. For example, taking some of Firestorm's powers can be a good amount of fun, especially the transmutation part.
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