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Lord Wraith
Member
Thunderbringer
- Last Seen: 5 hrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Lord Wraith
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 9671 (2.13 / day)
- VMs: 8
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Username history
- Lord Wraith 12 yrs ago
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Bio
Reluctantly retired roleplayer.
Except when I'm not.
Why are you here when you should be writing posts?
You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.
Except when I'm not.
Why are you here when you should be writing posts?
You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.
Most Recent Posts
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"C'mon y'all, let's get you back up on your feet."
The older blonde teen stuck out a hand towards the boy on the cold pavement who had begun gathering up his belongings. It wasn't surprising that the other high school seniors hadn't taken kindly to Chuck not only skipping a few grades, but also taking on the responsibility of grading their papers, and grading them lower than they'd like to see at that.
Resorting to physical violence was an unforeseen consequence, however. Chuck nursed a few bruised ribs before taking Thomas' hand as he was helped back to his feet. Chuck hadn't been paying attention when he exited the school, darkness crept in early this time of year and the football team had been hidden behind a pair of dumpsters waiting for the younger teen. Being unable to defend himself against their onslaught left a bad taste in Chuck's mouth, if Thomas hadn't stepped in when he had, Chuck no doubt would be looking up at the ceiling of an ambulance through eyes that had ought to been swollen shut. A couple of bruised ribs and a bruised ego seemed like a fair trade-off.
"I reckon that's the last time they'll try and hurt you," Thomas stated, cracking his knuckles. His naivety marked him as an outsider to New Lilith, his drawl was just icing on the cake.
"You're not from around here are you?" Chuck asked while adjusting his satchel and inspecting his camera for damage.
"Just transferred in actually, I'm from Longhorn. Thomas Campbell," The taller boy replied before extending his hand again.
Before IllAdvised had any opportunity to repeat Glitch's message, Feral was already on the move. Even with the urgency, the taller Maverick had all the grace of a gazelle, taking the lead while disappearing into the neon glow of New Lilith's night.
Nox.
The single word hung in the air. Despite everything IllAdvised had seen over the past decade, he still had trouble wrapping his mind around the concept of magic being real. A mystical energy force, moving through all living beings, divided into two different spectrums aptly named after the light and the dark.
Any mirth he had gained from Makarios' story was lost in the sudden turn of events. Arriving at the wharf, the youngest Maverick dismounted and immediately began scanning the scene. His keen mind quickly began putting together the best course of action. It had been years since Thomas had worn a suit made by Chuck. As Thomas grew both in his abilities and his confidence with them, he relied less and less on external weapons and armour and more on his own abilities. He was one of the strongest beings that Chuck knew of. At his peak, Thomas had been able to trade blows with Tony Cleaver, the Behemoth of the Lower East End, a Hyperhuman with near unrivalled strength.
At least until Thomas caught up.
To see Thomas now lying unconscious due to the severe trauma and bloodless was jarring. To see him wearing the Angel Mark Two suit was even more so. It was outdated technology, when Chuck had designed that, he was still wearing a cell phone strapped to his wrist and calling it cutting edge.
"Glitch! I need you to send the car, stat!" IllAdvised barked into his comm, his eyes watching the sky for further assailants. He moved quickly to Angel's side. Chuck had been patching the Mavericks up since they day they first stopped the Behemoth together, it had eventually even led him to his career. But Chuck had never once imagined that he'd be treating what should be a fatal wound for someone he would have once called a brother.
Kneeling on one knee, IllAdvised tossed the long leather coat open, revealing the armament beneath. Around his west and thighs were various belts, lined with module compartments, each housing various components. While the leader of the Mavericks was the physically least imposing of the original three, he was by far the most adaptable, both in his abilities and his equipment. Chuck had devised a system of modular components and weapons he could swap on the fly, everything on his person was compatible and solved various needs and problems. Larger compartments could be attached to his person to grant additional armour, others could be attached to transform his weapons from batons to a pair of tonfas or even a three-section staff.
Removing one such module from his thigh holster, IllAdvised placed it on Angel's chest as the unit deployed, sealing the wound and injecting Chuck's personal medicinal cocktail into Thomas' system to jumpstart the Enochian's healing factor.
IllAdvised turned to look at Feral.
"I can stabilize him enough to move him, but he's not going to make it if we don't get him to a hospital."
The older blonde teen stuck out a hand towards the boy on the cold pavement who had begun gathering up his belongings. It wasn't surprising that the other high school seniors hadn't taken kindly to Chuck not only skipping a few grades, but also taking on the responsibility of grading their papers, and grading them lower than they'd like to see at that.
Resorting to physical violence was an unforeseen consequence, however. Chuck nursed a few bruised ribs before taking Thomas' hand as he was helped back to his feet. Chuck hadn't been paying attention when he exited the school, darkness crept in early this time of year and the football team had been hidden behind a pair of dumpsters waiting for the younger teen. Being unable to defend himself against their onslaught left a bad taste in Chuck's mouth, if Thomas hadn't stepped in when he had, Chuck no doubt would be looking up at the ceiling of an ambulance through eyes that had ought to been swollen shut. A couple of bruised ribs and a bruised ego seemed like a fair trade-off.
"I reckon that's the last time they'll try and hurt you," Thomas stated, cracking his knuckles. His naivety marked him as an outsider to New Lilith, his drawl was just icing on the cake.
"You're not from around here are you?" Chuck asked while adjusting his satchel and inspecting his camera for damage.
"Just transferred in actually, I'm from Longhorn. Thomas Campbell," The taller boy replied before extending his hand again.
"Chuck."
Before IllAdvised had any opportunity to repeat Glitch's message, Feral was already on the move. Even with the urgency, the taller Maverick had all the grace of a gazelle, taking the lead while disappearing into the neon glow of New Lilith's night.
Nox.
The single word hung in the air. Despite everything IllAdvised had seen over the past decade, he still had trouble wrapping his mind around the concept of magic being real. A mystical energy force, moving through all living beings, divided into two different spectrums aptly named after the light and the dark.
| - Where had he heard that before? With a twist of his wrist, IllAdvised summoned his motorcycle on the busy street below. Leaping from his former perch, the Maverick indulged in the rush of brisk air, momentarily getting lost in the sensation of falling, the shock of the current situation overwhelming him. Before Chuck could respond, Glitch's safety measures kicked in, extending his underarm gliders and guiding him onto the back of the moving motorcycle. Chuck could feel his heart sinking as he weaved to and fro through the busy traffic lining New Lilith's streets. Any trace of hurt was gone, buried beneath a seething layer of anger. Thomas wasn't supposed to be out patrolling as Angel, he was supposed to be at home with Tiffany. Sam had even told Chuck that Thomas and Tiffany were expecting. He had sent a gift, a little onesie embroidered with the phrase 'Daddy is my Superhero.' Thomas was not supposed to be bleeding out on some wharf on the Lower East Side, he wasn't even supposed to be in the city. He was supposed to be safe. The data readout from the suit was running constantly along the right lens of IllAdvised's mask. His brow furrowed under the armoured ballcap that shielded his face which was completely concealed beneath a large hood. He wasn't near foolish enough to know that Maki couldn't sense his internal distress, but that didn't mean he needed the older Maverick to see it all over his face. |  _______________________________ |
At least until Thomas caught up.
To see Thomas now lying unconscious due to the severe trauma and bloodless was jarring. To see him wearing the Angel Mark Two suit was even more so. It was outdated technology, when Chuck had designed that, he was still wearing a cell phone strapped to his wrist and calling it cutting edge.
"Glitch! I need you to send the car, stat!" IllAdvised barked into his comm, his eyes watching the sky for further assailants. He moved quickly to Angel's side. Chuck had been patching the Mavericks up since they day they first stopped the Behemoth together, it had eventually even led him to his career. But Chuck had never once imagined that he'd be treating what should be a fatal wound for someone he would have once called a brother.
Kneeling on one knee, IllAdvised tossed the long leather coat open, revealing the armament beneath. Around his west and thighs were various belts, lined with module compartments, each housing various components. While the leader of the Mavericks was the physically least imposing of the original three, he was by far the most adaptable, both in his abilities and his equipment. Chuck had devised a system of modular components and weapons he could swap on the fly, everything on his person was compatible and solved various needs and problems. Larger compartments could be attached to his person to grant additional armour, others could be attached to transform his weapons from batons to a pair of tonfas or even a three-section staff.
Removing one such module from his thigh holster, IllAdvised placed it on Angel's chest as the unit deployed, sealing the wound and injecting Chuck's personal medicinal cocktail into Thomas' system to jumpstart the Enochian's healing factor.
IllAdvised turned to look at Feral.
"I can stabilize him enough to move him, but he's not going to make it if we don't get him to a hospital."
Lotus petals fall like snow on an empty grave.
I will try to post eventually, been celebrating the arrival of my daughter and soaking up all the new snuggles.
Finnigan Frederick Flynn
Was born of his father's sin
The son of a whore who the world wanted no more
Taken to the Crossroads to die
Instead, sold to the Father of Lies
For beauty and gold, all so that his mother may never grow old
Such was the woe of Finnigan Flynn
Was born of his father's sin
The son of a whore who the world wanted no more
Taken to the Crossroads to die
Instead, sold to the Father of Lies
For beauty and gold, all so that his mother may never grow old
Such was the woe of Finnigan Flynn
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