Hillan

VIGILANCE: Blood & Justice - A Superhuman Roleplay (Always Open)

Rum & Coke, cheap Whiskey and Ginger Ale, or nice single malt and water.

I'll also take a shot of just about anything. Minttu or Tequila are always fun.

VIGILANCE: Blood & Justice - A Superhuman Roleplay (Always Open)

I will be posting tomorrow (today) as it was St Patty's Day and I'm part Irish so you KNOW I had to go out

@FantasyChic

I also went out on a bender last night. And I'm not even a little bit Irish.

VIGILANCE: Blood & Justice - A Superhuman Roleplay (Always Open)

I hope it's a cliche-Child-prodigy hyperhuman.

Preferably with a edgy power.

VIGILANCE: Blood & Justice - A Superhuman Roleplay (Always Open)

And on that note... how about we kick off the...

W E E K L Y D I S C U S S I O N:

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Obviously the storm swirling around Crescent City is occurring through unnatural means. What exactly do you think is causing it, or what do you hope is behind the storm? On the opposite end of the spectrum, is there one outcome that you would find disappointing? Or who/what do you think is least likely to be the culprit behind the storm.

@Lord Wraith

I blame the liberal agenda.

VIGILANCE: Blood & Justice - A Superhuman Roleplay (Always Open)

I, for one, like Roman Numerals

@FantasyChic

I prefer the Atlantic ones.

VIGILANCE: Blood & Justice - A Superhuman Roleplay (Always Open)

Here was once a reference to something else.

VIGILANCE: Blood & Justice - A Superhuman Roleplay (Always Open)

F L A S H B A C K:

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^{A Night in April 1985 | New Lilith}

As the vigilante was sent through the air and onto the street. Another figure descended upon the steps of the bank, clad from head to toe in black leather. Much to the newcomer’s surprise, the other vigilante wasn't dead. Quickly climbing to his feet, the first vigilante made a move to give chase to Tony only for the newcomer to step in front of him and calmly put out his arm, blocking the first man’s path.

”You don't wanna go in there.” He stated. “Get yourself killed. Wait for the cops and let the pros handle this. ” He said, with genuine concern in his voice.

Finding himself caught by the other man, the first vigilante brushed the arm aside before commenting, his mouth twisted into a sarcastic smirk.

"Looks like you can call me ill-advised then." He snarked looking towards the gang bangers as they began to draw their weapons. "I can handle myself, I don't need a guardian angel. So unless you're planning on hitting the bank yourself, I'm going assume we're on the same side." Two batons fell into 'ill-advised's' hands as he spoke. "So, how about we kick some ass."

"Guardian Angel, huh? That's pretty fitting 'Ill-Advised'." The somewhat larger man said, as he cracked his knuckles. "Stand back." He said, the six glowing wings erupted from his back, momentarily illuminating the entire street.

"After you."

Motioning for the other vigilante to go first, the newcomer quickly followed as the pair entered the bank. Inside, a handful of thugs had scattered across the lobby, ransacking the building. In the middle however, was the hulk of a man from outside, impossible to mistake as anything but the group’s leader.

"Dibs on the big guy."

"Be my guest." IllAdvised replied. Focusing the Vis in his body as he had been trained to do, the Lotus tattoo on his chest burning slightly, the vigilante leaped into the air, far further than any human could ever have done. Using his momentum, he ran along the side of the nearby wall, avoiding gunfire as he flipped through the air, throwing one of the batons as it connected with a gangbanger's skull before bouncing back to IllAdvised. Landing, IllAdvised swept the legs from another member of the Kings, the gangbanger's head connecting with the hard marble floor, a sickening 'THUD' echoing through the lobby. Moving to his feet, IllAdvised threw another baton as he knocked a gun away before delivering a blow to the throat of its holder.

Angel grinned softly as he watched IllAdvised’s acrobatics. This wasn't some run off the mill vigilante, this was someone who actually knew what he was doing. However, Angel’s attention was needed elsewhere as Tony, the Behemoth, turned towards the leather clad hero, fire burning in his eyes as he spoke to Angel..

"You wanna take a swing at me?" He taunted, as Angel cracked his neck.

"Let's dance." Dashing off the ground, flying at him faster than the Behemoth could have predicted, Angel charged the larger man and tackling him before taking flight. With a flap of his wings, Angel carried both of himself and Tony several meters before hitting the floor hard. Sliding across the smooth marble, the pair came to a halt as they collided with the bank vault door. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Angel delivered three quick punches to Tony’s face, before hel was flung into the air as the thug swung his arm wildly. The leather clad vigilante bounced off the ceiling before he gravity pulled him downwards as he collided with the floor. Disorientated, Angel's bell had been rung, as he laid dazed. One thing had become clear however, the witness in the Carlos trial hadn't been hit by a truck - but by this Behemoth of a man.

VIGILANCE: Blood & Justice - A Superhuman Roleplay (Always Open)

<Snipped quote by BlackSam3091>

Actually I just bought it.

@Lord Wraith

Well played. Well played.

VIGILANCE: Blood & Justice - A Superhuman Roleplay (Always Open)

F L A S H B A C K:

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^{A Night in April 1985 | New Lilith}

The warehouse in the Wharves, one of the many used by the Harbor Kings, where they would store their goods they have stolen from the shipments coming in. They had just gotten a large shipment of heroin, packing it and going to package it and ship it off to their dealers in the morning, but for now, there were only a handful of guards keeping watch over the shipment.

Two of them watched the outside, three on the inside, among them was Carlos Suarez, one of the Lieutenants of the Harbor Kings, a right-hand man of the boss. His wrap sheet was longer than most, assault and battery, breaking and entering, attempted murder, and murder were all among the things he had been booked for.

Yet, he had slipped through the system, on his last case the chain of custody had been broken, and key evidence had vanished. The witness that could send him away for life washed up on the beach, body broken in so many places that she had to have been run over by a truck. Tonight, justice would finally be served. This shipment was risky, it belonged to the Fierro’s and the Kings had stolen it, killed a couple of their guys, this could very well mean war, and they didn't have the resources for that. Not yet, anyway.

“Keep watch. Some of them fuckin' Mexicans might show up to try and steal our shit.”

“Aren't yo-”

“I'm Puerto Rican, dickhead.” Carlos immediately snapped back at one of the guards.

They heard cursing from outside. ”Hell is going on our there?” One of the guards asked, Carlos waved him to go check, the man turned around to grab his gun from the table, one of the blacked-out windows broke as the limp body of one of the guards was sent flying in, a broken nose, knocked out cold and barely breathing.

The three men began moving towards their guns, when they heard the cocking of a handgun behind them, followed by a voice. ”Wouldn't try that if I were you.” The biker-looking man, in his black leather jacket, a hood over his face, but one could see his short blond hair and black sunglasses, his look wouldn't betray his identity, the one truly defining feature to his figure was the belt buckle in his Jeans, a golden A.

”Guns didn't help the guys outside. It ain't gonna do you any favors, either.”

”Think you're the terminator, or some shit?!” Carlos shouted, as the man in the hood grinned, but remained quiet. ”Get him!” Carlos shouted, as his two men charged at the man in the hood, whom smiled, twirled his pistol in his hand and put it back into it's holster as the two men charged at him, one of them picked up a baseball bat from the floor while running, the other a knuckleduster from his pocket.

The hooded man took one step backwards, as the bat came towards his face, dodging the wooden weapon with less than an inch, his arm came down hard on the man holding the bat, snapping his wrist, his hand went limp and a cry of pain rang out, the next guy came along, bring the bat up from the ground, he smashed it against the man's skull, shattering the bat and knocking the guy out cold. The first man whimpering on the ground about his broken hand.

”No guns didn't seem to work, either.” He taunted, as Carlos backed slowly, the masked man heading towards him. ”You lot have been making big moves lately. You planning on starting a war? Lot of innocent people are gonna get hurt, can't let you do that.” He said, as Carlos turned towards the shipping container, getting out the blowtorch and turning it on.

”I'll fucking burn you, Puto!” He shouted, and the hooded man chuckled.

”You think I'm afraid of fire?” a golden flicker could be seen from inside of his shades, as the entire room lit up with bright, warm light as six violent, yet beautiful flames, like tendrils, spawned on the figure's back. Carlos let out a gasp.

”Dios mio..” He dropped the blowtorch, falling to his knees. The torch burning his hand, and he cried out in pain. The vigilante walked to him, grabbed him by the neck and pinned him against the container, a heavy 'THUD' from his body hitting the steel door.

”You tell me what you got planned, or you'll be burned a lot worse than that!” He shouted, and Carlos said a prayer in Spanish, before nodding.

”B-Bank, we're gonna pull a bank heist. Oh god, he's gonna kill me. We need the money to fight the Mexicans.” He said, and the vigilante smiled, kicking the blowtorch to the side, it rolled out of the way from hurting Carlos again.

He grabbed his wrist, put his gloved thumb right next to the wound, still holding the criminal by the collar.

”You'll turn yourself in, and confess to every crime you've ever committed. Or I'll be back. And it'll be a lot worse than this.” The hooded man growled, Carlos nodded, crying, his sobbing turned into a cry of pain, as his burned hand began healing at the vigilante’s touch, a pain he couldn't even imagine as his skin wound closed, and his tissue began re-growing in a matter of seconds.

”Be good, Carlos.” The man simply said, turning around and taking to the air, out of the warehouse and into the sky.

One Piece: A Golden Age, A Dark Age - The Boozehound Chronicles

Many minutes had gone by since Cerulean had sent the captain of the Grog Warriors into the drink. He had felt his powers leaving him as soon as he went underwater, the undertow grabbing him, and for a minute, the Captain felt something he had never felt before. Fear? No, that wasn't it. Chester wasn't afraid of dying, some kind of disappointment, more like it. But, soon, that passed as well, he didn't have enough energy to be disappointed. His thoughts went blank, and right before his lungs started filling with water, he saw a bright light and he felt his body move, and soon, he broke through the surface of the water. A fishing boat, just out of the harbor had caught him in their net, along with several fish.

"That ain't no fish, George!"

"Are you sure, Gregory? I thunk it is."

"I dunn thunk it', George."

"I guess not, cut 'im lose, Gregory!" George replied, as Gregory grabbed a fishing knife and cut the net open, releasing the fish - and the pirate onto the deck. Chester began coughing, puking up water, as he reached towards the net - where his bottle still was, and he took a deep swig, before his eyes shut open and he spit the drink out.

"THE HELL?! IT'S JUST WATER?!" He cried out in a fit of rage, the booze once inside of the bottle had run out into the ocean, and the pirate ran towards the edge of the ship, trying to reach the water where he had been fished out off, as if to grab the booze, but the two fishermen held him back. "You have to turn the boat around, I have to kick Cerulean's ass!" Chester yelled, as he tore the two men from him, both of them fell backwards. "W-who are you? Why do you wanna fight Boss Cerulean?"

"..He ruined my BOOZE!"