Lugubrious

MetaOps - Project: God Complex

Revel

Though not present to witness the deed, Revel's precognition picked up Witch's death like an antennae. His mouth curled into a disgruntled frown. “That's going make us look awful.” Though the power to behold the girl's limp body, and vacuous eyes lay not within the spheres of his mind, the knowledge hurt enough. Despite an outward display of impersonal bravado, Revel acutely felt the tragedy of others. No sociopathy lurked within the pink folds of the string-pullers brain; if anything, emotion washed too powerfully upon him, when his restraint proved unable to staunch the flow. Putting it out of his mind, Revel instead grasped a slightly better idea of Hopper's imminent arrival, landing on the floor. “What a weird sound that'll make.” Knowing that the decisive confrontation would occur in the reactor room, Revel placed little faith in Hopper's ability to keep the Immortal out, put-upon as he was by the other Metaops agents. Preparations needed to be made for the fight within.

Though Spectre's lightfooted tread made no noise, Revel turned on a dime and watched her approach. He had, after all, known that she would come. “You've been lucky so far in catching the Immortal off-guard, but it will take more sustained force than either of us can muster to force him into the chamber. Right now a soldier named Hopper has arrived, courtesy of the pilot Strato. I know from his appearance that his legs are cybernetic. I assume that they would have the strength to provide the necessary force. So yes, we'll go with your plan.” From his tone, even through his slight accent, it was clear that Revel took no pleasure in allowing someone else to take the limelight. “When he arrives, I will wait til he puts himself between me and the reactor pit. Then I'll grab him with my new whips, annoying him. Very tired of interruption by now, he'll grab the whips and pull, sending me flying down into the pit. Fortunately, I can charge my gauntlets to make them magnetic. Hopper, displeased at my apparent death, will run up and kick him, throwing him. It's up to you to attach yourself to him, make him intangible, and then jump off before he hits the reactor. I'll...catch you. There! Both of our plans together as one!” He winced as a painful-sounding impact resounded from upstairs. “Freyja's dead. Not permanent though.”

MetaOps - Project: God Complex

I'll edit in that she ran through the door, no big deal.

As cool as Protea is I'm really sorry but I barely have time for my normal RPs let alone something as expansive as a new world.

@Prince of Seraphs

Okie dokie.

MetaOps - Project: God Complex

Revel closed the door to the reactor room, but I can go back and edit my post to work in Gloria's actions.

Also, Prince, if you're still at all interested, now is the time to contribute to Protea. Follow the link in my sig if you need.

Protea - No Ordinary Interest Check - Help me!

I'm starting to think we might be on the road to officially starting. While the RP might not officially start then, I plan to make the official OOC on Friday afternoon. Sound good?

MetaOps - Project: God Complex

Now thoroughly furious, Revel heaved against his trapped whips, causing them to snap unevenly. Their rather pitiful remains snaked back into his bracers, useless for the time being. Grinding his teeth, Revel spat, “I don't need my power to know what comes next is going to be utterly insipid.” He glanced at Michelle, unmotivated to explain himself now that, thanks to Gloria, his scheme lay in ashes. However, the omen of Spectre shrieking in agony cheered him up a bit.

Adrenaline rushing through his veins made the seconds slip by like molasses, but he was stunned that the Immortal hadn't yet made a move. Why is she arguing against me, other than petty revenge? This twit needs to learn what it means to look at the big picture. He stepped back as he watched her jam the grenade into the Immortal's torso, taking minor pleasure in hearing her scream beyond the confines of his mind. “Deliberate sabotage,” he muttered, motioning for Michelle to accompany him in his retreat beyond the grenade's blast range. “I was planning to...oh, it doesn't matter now. The twat's grenade is only going to make him madder in the end. That's not a guess, either. How did she think this was going to play out? Invincible, unbounded strength, and motivation.” The sudden appearance of Crosscut, failing to prevent the ensuing explosion, did not improve his mood.

Revel's ears hadn't quite finished ringing from the detonation before Crosscut belted out the new orders. “Looks like reasoning phase is done.” He stood back as the remainder of the team piled into the Immortal. Even if his weapons had been whole, their lashes would only have further pitted the other metas against him with their broad swathes. Additionally, with others present that could boast greater fighting ability, Revel didn't feel the need to electrify his gloves and charge in. Instead, he concentrated on rhythmic breathing, trying to attain the peace of mind through which clearest foresight could be had. A moment later, his eyes blinked open, though indiscernible beneath his goggles.. “The Immortal isn't going to pay anyone any attention. He's going to go straight for the reactor. I'm going to attempt to stall him with my whips, which means I have to replace him. Ultimately I won't be able to hold him, but two strangers will appear and ultimately prevail. Hm...Hopper and Stratos. Not ordinary members of the team. Very interesting.” As Revel spoke, he started to move, fleeing from the combat in the room and into the reactor chamber itself. As he did, he flicked open his bracers' and swapped out their reels for spares. It didn't take a tactical genius to bring extras when your main weapon was easily breakable. Unfortunately, this set wouldn't conduct electricity as well.

Upon entering the reactor room, Revel strode to the balcony and whistled. The entire chamber hummed with an ethereal blue luminescence, More than a hundred feet down a spiraling crosswalk stair, behind a vast cylinder of glass, lay the reactor itself. Revel turned around and spent a moment figuring out how to close the room's door, left open by the evacuated plant personnel, though he knew it wouldn't stall the Immortal should he make it past the rest of his team. A vision flashed in his mind of Gloria talking to him, and he decided against shutting the door. Revel flicked out the knew whips, testing their speed, before winding one around the crosswalk's guard rail and leaping over.

MetaOps - Project: God Complex

Looks like it won't be happening now, so I might as well come clean. Revel's plan was to coax the Immortal into letting him discharge a massive amount of electricity point-blank into his brain, disrupting his higher mental functions or at least giving him a whopping case of amnesia. It wouldn't damage the brain, but short-circuit it enough to silence the Immortal's mental anguish.

...Oh, and does setting off a grenade this close to a reactor have negative effects on said reactor? Like exploding?

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Oh, and Beacon is on a cliff, by the way, not a floating island. Though it would be cool; reminds me of Sky High.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Abel Fulgurate

It took a lot to get Abel thoroughly hyped, but of all his moments in Beacon so far, this probably took the title. Sure, the initiation ceremony had been great, but pride didn't quite equate to nerve-firing enthusiasm.

Over the previous days, a routine quickly established itself, but familiarity didn't necessarily breed ease. If anything, the teachers started pushing harder after the first day. Having picked up from their various initial tests the strengths and weaknesses of the students, they professors dug in without hesitation. Goodwitch, for instance, remedied the tenacity with which Abel, -not content with further loss after the first day- fought one-on-one by having him face multiple, smaller opponents at once. Without a tool designed for defending against multiple intelligent opponents at simultaneously, Abel found himself a large, clumsy target, pestering with weak but hard-to-punish strikes whenever he attempted to focus on one person. Finally, on Thursday, the punching bag had turned the tables. By altering his traditional two-handed spear stance into a one-handed lance stance, using the armor on his left arm to block and retaliate. He hadn't decimated the opposition, to be sure, but he'd improved. His comfort zone had always been at range, but if pushing himself to greater heights meant leaving it behind, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

Abel found himself suddenly accosted by Shiro, perched upon the tall boy's broad shoulders like a jockey. “Yeah, I'm excited,” he admitted, possessed of a slight smile equal parts embarrassment and affection for his jovial faunus friend. “We're gonna rock that shelter, no doubt about it.” Impulsively as he had come, Shiro was off on a vigorous quest to find his equipment. Abel had the luxury of being able to avoid such a trip, though perhaps for the wrong reasons. He was so used to wearing his armor that, whenever formality didn't require him to be in his enormous student uniform, he wore the metal atop his normal clothes in class. Like much else, it was habit, and not going away anytime soon. He returned Oswald's nod when he saw it, believing the motion to be as a gesture of greeting. "Catnip's probably not good for him. Clean-up's rough. Thanks for the well-wishes; I hope your luck is just as good." The Ampere was propped against the wall of the auditorium nearby, and Abel summoned it to his hand with a flick of his semblance. He hadn't seen Sapphire yet, but he didn't need her to take initiative. “See ya at the airships, Gren.”

A few minutes later, Abel stood only a few hundred feet away from one of the mammoth vehicles designated to the school for ferrying students. He looked over the edge of the cliff, at the forest that gave way to the buildings and streets of town below. It was a beautiful vista, and it instilled him with the same on-top-of-the-world feeling that permeated him when he stood upon the walls back home.

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

Fleo Plector – Outside Guild Hall

By now, Fleo's idea of Nolan's demeanor dictated that he would spurn the hand offered to him by Lucas, but the dusty woman nevertheless waited a moment so see if he might rise to the occasion. When he unsurprisingly faltered at the challenge, Fleo shrugged and took Lucas's hand instead, trying her best to beam at him. “Welcome to the coolest ride this side of Hakobe! Fleo Plector, at your service.” Though Amaya had neither voiced her concerns nor grown pale yet, Fleo got the distinct impression that not all was well with her. Not many people would just climb into a cab and stare out the window like that. If the cause for her consternation was personal, however, she was certain to prove as reticent as Nolan when it came to opening up. Fleo decided not to trouble the snowy-haired girl with questions.

With no further delay, the carriage was off. With no interest in giving his attention to his fellow cab-occupants, Nolan entertained himself by fiddling with the vehicle's controls in a seemingly endless endeavor to coax more speed from it, so that the ride might cease all the quicker. True to her earlier resolve, Fleo departed the carriage before long, and slid alongside it using her Sirocco as she took in the sights beyond the perimeter of Magnolia. Having come to the city by train, her curious, thrill-seeking eyes had missed much that the countryside had to offer, so there was no shortage of scenery for her to take in. After thirty minutes' worth of scooting, she pulled open the carriage door and hopped in again, eager to describe some of what she'd found. The cattle in this region, she explained, represented a totally different stock from any that she'd previously beheld, and it was with relish that she showed a snail the size of a baseball she'd picked up along the way.

Following her enthused exhibition of all that she'd encountered, however, Fleo lapsed into a nap. Whether as a result of all the Siroccos she'd summoned so far today, or especially engaging dreams, she remained asleep for some time, oblivious to the actions of her teammates.

The sun was well overhead by the time the carriage jerked to a stop. The sudden motion woke Fleo up, and she sleepily peered out around. Her first sight was Amaya, who looked remarkably, horribly sick. So worried was Fleo that she didn't look outside to see if the carriage had halted at their desert destination or merely at a waypoint en route. Only Nolan, commander of the controls, had that knowledge presently.

-=-=-=-

Though at first unaware, Nero quickly became aware of Ayame's squeezing when it threatened to squash his narrow frame. The mild pain distracted him from his menacing of Ariel, causing him to try to peer under his arm in alarm, though of course his cloak blocked the view of the little girl winding him. "Huh?” Most of the cruelty and derision drained from his demeanor, as if Ayame had pulled out a bath plug lodged somewhere in his spleen. The sights and sounds of the hall, lost in the sudden haze of tunnel vision, surged back to him, and he realized that he hadn't been breathing steadily.

At the warning, Nero waved a hand. “Wouldn't be Phoenix Wing without my quarter-hourly warning from Master Anti-fun. Don't get your knickers in a twist, I'm not gonna throw away free meals that easily.” He didn't bother saying that what looked like threatening discourse masked what amounted to begging for Ariel to not accept his offer. Judging by the two-faced girl's frowny sigh, she was starting to look inward for a solution, not to him. That was one of the duties of genies, too, not just to keep the balance of wishes with pros and cons but to encourage, one way or another, for people to find their miracles in themselves. Those were, Nero had grudgingly realized after reading about genies of lore, the most meaningful. Of course, he still loved helping people.

As Ayame loosened her grip, Nero pivoted around and patted her head. “You don't worry about me next time, Aya,” he chided. “I guess it's hard to believe, but I know what I'm doing.” He chuckled to see her blush at her own musical instinct.

MetaOps - Project: God Complex

<Snipped quote by Prince of Seraphs>

Diciplinary action seems justified upon return to base. But that will be the directors call ;)

@Milkman

The Director'll be more pleased with how Revel handles the situation if the Immortal listens to him, I'll wager.

No rush, Guess Who. Part of being a GM is the responsibility of everyone wanting a piece of you, but we'll all be fine waiting I hope.