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16 days ago
Current begone THOT
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23 days ago
wraith will implement hard rpgexit #Wraith4Mod2k19
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1 mo ago
ok keep yapping your mouth liberal
1 mo ago
you are on dumb my man you are truly off the goop on this one chief
2 mos ago
hittus bluntus dude weed
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Dean, through his years and travels, had come to the conclusion that most villains fit into one of two broad categories - the ones who were serious, darker - the well, edgy ones. And then there were the ones who more resembled Quinn. Snarky jokers. His question may have been dismissed by her, but it was posed to Noxious, not her - and although he rolled his eyes at her reply, it didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. Who would ever expect a group of villains to have courteous manners, after all. That would just be an absurd thing to expect. So Dean could forgive and forget about it - just this once.

But now Quinn had started off a circle of introductions, as people gave their first names and their villain names. No quirks were shared, but Dean supposed that would come later. Maybe there would be a demonstration. Maybe they were waiting for combat, which seemed a little late for a quirk reveal, especially without any sort of prior planning. But whatever. That probably wouldn't be the case, he hoped. The first to introduce themselves was obviously Quinn - rather, Anarchy Red. A mouthy name. A name was pretty important to Dean, and he hoped that the others would have better ones.

The next was Sana. Animus. That name rolled off the tongue better. She seemed less snarky, and Dean couldn't help but quietly enjoy her little proclamation of her ideology, and her statement of dislike against their leader. And then there was Jackie, the chainsaw, who instead of speaking like the rest, held up a crude note with cruder language. She had to speak at some point, surely. Silence cannot last forever. And good communication would be absolutely necessary if this league was going to do anywhere and do anything.

Dean was lost in thought when he heard a voice in his ear. It was Sharkman, asking to pet his raven. Normally he wouldn't, but he was here to make allies, after all. He made sure the bird was completely docile.

"Be my guest. I've made sure he won't nip your fingers, so knock yourself out."

And then Shark man introduced himself as, well, Sharkman. Dean couldn't help but smile, and now he realised that although he had posed a question first, he should probably introduce himself as well. He was the only one not to yet, even though he spoke first - Quinn had initiated the whole thing after he asked his question of course.

"I suppose I should introduce myself as well. I'm Dean, Corvus under my villainous persona. I'm here because, like you all, hero society is fundamentally broken. It protects the weak, celebrates mediocrity and waters down true power.".

Simple enough. Now he looked at their leader, waiting for her to introduce herself properly - if she even would.


Dean never really considered himself as one who enjoyed listening - but now, he listened intently, as the leader stood up and spoke. The raven on his shoulder also seemed to listen intently, even though it obviously could not understand a word, and was simply fixed on the new movement that was occurring in front of it. His top hat remained on his head even if the mask was now on the table in front of him, staring back up with tinted eyes.

Childish attitudes? Dean realised that the theatrics with the raven scout might seem like showing off, but it was definitely a practical move - safety first. Dean nodded as the speech continued and, happily found himself agreeing with what was being said. Deluded youth. Twisted ideals. This resonated with Dean very very well. Hero culture was a self righteous, confused mess that simply allowed the weak to be weak. And Enterprise. Dean remembered her, and although they never interacted during his unfortunate time at U.S.J, he did not like her purely for the fact that she fit the mould of the hero perfectly. Scum.

The address went on, getting right to the meat - The goals. And what desirable goals they were. The destruction of that hideous school and its equally as hideous principal. Hearing those words put a devious grin on his face. This group certainly had high ambitions. High ambitions indeed. As fun and satisfying as a direct assault on the academy would be, Dean did recognise that it would be unwise. But the thought of that school being razed to ash could not escape his mind.

But of course, there was an alternative plan. As the papers were strewn over the table, the raven hopped off his shoulder, taking a document in its beak and bringing it back to Dean, who took it from the bird's beak and studied it carefully. The site where hero gear was made. Now that was definitely an interesting choice, and when questions were opened, Dean certainly had a few.

"So. I'm glad our eventual goal is the destruction of that wretched establishment. My question is - when we undergo this presumed strike on the gear factory, we'll likely be quickly brought into conflict with Enterprise and by extension, her students. As fun as that will be, is that part of the plan?
maria shut up


Dean cast his mind back to earlier that day.

It would be perfectly accurate to say that the bank was in utter chaos. A cramped lobby filled with a swarm of starlings, which pecked and scratched at both the staff and the unfortunate customers who just happened to be using the bank at that very moment. That was, of course, a distraction, as the real crime was happening at the desk, where young bank teller had a raven on her shoulder, the knife on its talons pressed nervously close to her throat. Dean slid a piece of paper across the desk to her, after he checked the details through the eyepiece of his mask. He politely requested a full withdrawal, and without much option, the teller gathered up some staff and returned with the money that Dean sought.

This was a rather personal crime - he had spent a few weeks tracking down the bank that contained a great deal of his parent's money. They had moved overseas, but left some money in San Francisco in their haste. Money that was rightfully his. Once the crime was done, the raven fluttered back onto his shoulder, and he bid the staff good day, before leaving. The starling swarm would vacate themselves from the bank soon enough too. Certainly a successful crime, and perhaps foreboding considering the invite in his manor that he would end up returning to.

The crowded bank was certainly a far cry away from where Dean was now, walking through the dimly let empty halls.

The invitation had come as a shock. He didn't think villains were great enough in number in San Francisco for their to be any kind of league - but it was certainly a welcome surprise. More people that shared his beliefs? You could absolutely count Dean in for that. But he was wary - this sort of thing could easily be a trap - which was why he didn't come alone, a raven sitting atop his shoulder as a companion. Just in case things went south. And he could feel that Alcatraz was crawling with birds anyway, mainly seagulls. So he certainly had a good platform to fight from if this was something more sinister.

He was fully kitted out in his villain outfit for this - top hat included. One has to make a good impression, he reasoned, certainly if he was amongst his own kind. Alcatraz was definitely an interesting choice for this meeting of the bad guys, and as he turned a corner he looked at the wires converging up ahead, as he noticed they went into a door which was shadowed with darkness. Dean looked up at his raven, deciding safe was better than sorry. The bird taking on his eyes and ears, it flew into the dark room, landing on the table, and looked around.

Dean could spot three people, all women. Definitely no police, and they definitely did not look like heroes. It seemed legitimate enough, he guessed. The raven flew back out and Dean regained control of his senses, before walking inside. His eyes were immediately drawn to the stack of papers on the table, and his face on one near the top. That came along with a picture of him in his villain outfit, and of his manor. He picked up the paper and sighed, before reaching back and taking off his mask. He set it down on the table, pulling out a chair, his somewhat thin yet also somewhat handsome face now on show.

He looked around again for a moment before speaking.

"Well, I'm certainly glad to see this appears to be legitimate. Can we expect anymore?"
@TheWindel I hadn't considered it, but you gave me a nice idea for an edit to my sheet. So now, the answer is yes, he did (briefly)

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