Maxx

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

Posted. I'm gonna wait a post for the next installment of Plague Fucks the World. I didn't have Rafael go to the Director. Maybe she can send someone to go get him?

EDIT: I kinda want Rafael to get kidnapped by the Fiend and stuck with superpower serum in the process. Have him get some really dumb power.

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

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Sam Clarke and Rafael Davila

@He Who Walks Behind
@SepticGentleman
@Mr Allen J

---

Bitch, Sam thought to himself as Lihua glared over at him. That girl was just as bad as Rafael, always doing work and never taking a little time to have fun. Everyone seemed good to go, so Sam started for the door, with the others behind him. As he walked, he cast a backward gaze at Nightingale. She sure had a pretty smile. He couldn't tell who the smile was directed at, though. He thought back to his wife in Mendel. He wondered how she was doing, how Little Sammy was. He wondered if Bravo had eaten the stupid neighbor's cat yet. He shrugged and led the group through the halls of NEST and through the side doors (he dared not go out of the front in case Rafael hadn't dispersed the media yet.

Speaking of the devil, Rafael passed the group just as they left the building into the alley. As he walked past them, he sighed loudly and sipped at his coffee. He caught sight of Sam, and cast him a death glare.

"Evening, Director," Sam said as he passed. "Did CNN piss off yet?"

"Yeah, I got rid of them," Rafael replied. "Try not to break any necks when you go out."

"Can't make any promises," Sam shot back. Rafael sighed and walked inside. KINGFISHER was a media nightmare. Everywhere they went, they raised Hell, and they were known to be the most brutal government agency. He walked inside and through the halls swiftly. The Department of Media Relations was on the sixth floor. He paused for a brief moment in front of the steps, and then took the elevator to the third floor. He walked out of the elevator, past his secretary's desk, and into his office. Then Rafael crashed down in his leather armchair.

Being the Director of Media Relations, Rafael got a nice corner office that looked out towards the Island of Providence. It was a well-furnished room, with a bookshelf and filing cabinets across from a heavy mahogany desk that had an iMac on it. The walls were painted a dark mahogany color, and were decorated with framed press clippings and diplomas. A Picasso was framed near the bookshelf. A small cactus in a terra cotta pot sat on the window sill. Rafael sighed and stared out at the ocean. Boy, did he wish he was out on the water on a day like this. His secretary stood at the door.

"Excuse me, sir," she said "Bryan Williams from NBC is on the phone. He wants to interview Director Caryl."

"Ask him why he's not in a helicopter over Iraq," Rafael replied. The secretary smiled and walked back to her desk and picked the phone back up.

"My apologies, Mr.Williams," she said "Mr.Davila is not in right now. May I take a message?"

---

The Corner Reserve was a small corner restaurant and bar one block down from the NEST HQ. It was a rustic looking bar, an obvious hipster joint, with brick walls and specials of the day written on a chalkboard behind the counter. Multicolored champagne flutes hung from the ceiling, and the lights filtered through them to fill the place with soft color. A few flatscreen TVs sat around the restaurant, currently showing news from around the city. A large keg barrel at the front of the restaurant read "The Corner Reserve" in white block letters. Soft indie rock played on the restaurant's speakers. As it was not yet five, the place was mostly empty, and the NEST crew had no problems getting seats at the bar. Sam sat down between Nightingale and Carl. The bartender, who looked like a Starbucks barista with a beard, walked up and greeted him. Though Sam was no hipster, he was a regular at this place.

"Afternoon guys," the bartender said, walking over and shaking Sam's hand. "How are you guys doing today. Our special today is our Diablo Verde craft ale, brewed in-house with jalapenos added in to give it some nice round heat. It's really good if you like spicy stuff."

"I'll have a Yuengling and an order of the barbecue wings," Sam said. The bartender walked down the line and began to take the agents' orders.

---

Taylor Pierpoint

---

Taylor decided to lay down on the beach. She rolled out a towel from inside her Gucci purse, took her cover-up off, and laid down, putting her hands under her head. She looked up at the sun. Boy, was it a nice day. Taylor was wearing one of those floppy straw-colored hats, the kind you see people wear to the beach often, and it cast the perfect shade over her eyes. She was just beginning to sleep when she heard a shout from the boardwalk.

A man was running down the boardwalk with a duffel bag in his hand, and from the shouts she could tell that it certainly wasn't his. Without getting up, Taylor took a bottle of water out of her bag and opened it. As it flowed out, the water froze midair. With a wave of her hand, Taylor covered the entire stretch of boardwalk in a sheet of ice. The crook, who didn't notice that the ground below him had become a slip n' slide, slipped and fell onto his face, cracking the ice. Taylor got up from her towel and walked over to him.

"Ne prends pas ce qui ne votre pas, bastard," she said, crouching down and picking up the bag. He moved to grab her, but two chains of ice shot out of the sheet and wrapped around his wrists, restraining him. What surprised Taylor is that the source of this ice did not come from her water bottle, but from somewhere else nearby. She looked over her shoulder and picked up the duffel bag.

"Is this yours?" she asked Jen.

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

I might do a shapeshifter as a KINGFISHER agent.

While the NESTies fuck off to the Corner Reserve (best hipster bar name), I'm gonna have Rafael talk to the Director. You cool with that Al?

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

Figured I'd make sheets for the other members of Plague's Chosen. Like Daniel, they will go in the other section of Plague's sheet, and will not be on the OP.

Talia Smithton

Name:

Talia Smithton

Age:

24

Description:

One of Plague’s “Chosen”, members of his ranks who he chooses not to use as meatshields. Talia is a grizzled and vengeful woman, once a wannabe marine who was denied entry due to her abilities (like someone else we know). She’s muscular and tough, with a plain, square-shaped face and brown hair tied into a ponytail. She dresses in black urban camo pants, a white tee shirt, a black plate carrier vest (with slots for ammo), and black combat boots. Her mask is painted in black urban camo. She also always wears a black baseball cap.

Powers:

Active camouflage. Talia has the ability to blend in with anything that her skin touches. Her entire body, including any clothing that she’s wearing, changes colors to match her surroundings.

Roark Blunt

Name:

Roark Blunt

Age:

28

Description:

A member of Plague’s Chosen. One of the most well-trained Fiends, Roark is an Australian fellow who formerly worked for the Australian private military company Red Tide, but turned to the Fiends after being fired for killing a civilian on a mission. Unlike most of the others, Roark directly works for Plague, who hired him as a security detail. Roark is tall and ripped, with hair cut into a short mohawk. There’s a massive knife scar stretching the right side of his head. He dresses like a mercenary, wearing mainly camo with a tactical vest. He ties a red bandana around his neck like a cowboy. His mask is a forest green color and is designed like an old-time WWII mask. He usually carries a H&K UMP into battle. He also carries a very long hunting knife.

Powers:

All-around physical buff. Roark is a little bit faster, a little bit stronger, a little bit more agile, and a little bit more durable than your average human. As far as Roark is concerned, however, he has no power, and he’s just that much of a badass.

Byon Jung-Mo

Name:

Byon Jung-Mo

Age:

27

Description:

A member of Plague’s Chosen. Byon is a North Korean separatist who escaped his homeland and came to America, where Plague noticed his abilities and hired him (before that he worked at a sushi bar in Chinatown. He is an intelligent and independent guy with an incredible amount of loyalty to Plague’s cause. He has Asian skin and a squared head, with black hair cut into a buzz. He dresses similarly to the other Chosen, wearing black urban camo, short sleeves, and a plate carrier. His gas mask is black. His weapon of choice is the Uzi.

Powers:

supernatural speed. Byon can run at nearly 100 mph, and can channel that speed into his attacks, artificially increasing his strength if he gets a head start.

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

@He Who Walks Behind Just for future reference, you can SUCK MY DICK.

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

@swich01 Hm. People actually look at my dA. Fancy that.

@He Who Walks Behind Just for future reference, Sam's family is still in Mendel.

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

Posted. Taylor is open for interactions.

I feel like I may have stepped on some bad ground with the Playboy thing. I just want to clarify this; I'm not making Carole intentionally sluttish. Like, that's not a teenaged boy being a pervert. I'm just using it to show how obsessed Carole is with being noticed and being the center of attention. Hope I didn't offend anyone.

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

---

Sam Clarke

@Mr Allen J
@He Who Walks Behind
@SepticGentleman

---

The moment that the meeting adjourned, Sam stood up and stretched as largely as he could. God, did he hate meetings. He looked around as some of the corporates left the room, a few giving him dirty looks. He didn't really care; he wasn't under their jurisdiction, and at this point, they needed him here. He looked over at the notepad on the table (he had taken notes of each lieutenant under a doodle of a stick-figure Lihua terrorizing a city like Godzilla). Each lieutenant was a walking fortress surrounded by an army. It wasn't going to be easy to take them down.

Looking down at his phone, Sam saw that it was about 4:40, nearly Happy Hour. Considering that he had no assigned tasks as of yet, he figured that now would be a good time to hit up the bar. He looked in the direction of CONDOR and Nightingale. Condor had just donned his blazer and was absentmindedly flicking lint off of it.

"Damn, I need a drink," Sam said. "You guys wanna hit up the bar? I'm sure we can deal with the mooks later." He caught the flickering Carl and Michelle out of the corner of his eye, and looked over his shoulder. "Hey guys!" he shouted. "Carl, Michelle, we're heading out to grab a drink. Wanna come with us?"

---

PLAGUE v. NEST Taskforce

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"Then come on in," he shouted "and stare upon the face of true horror!" Outside, the agents were fed up. If these imbeciles weren't going to come quietly, then they were going to leave in hearses. The taskforce commander nodded to one of the two agents standing on either side of the door. The agent took a large, flat object, a breaching charge, peeled off the backing, and stuck it to the door with a loud slap. In his other hand was the detonator. As he prepared to pull the trigger, four other agents walked up to the steps and took positions, their rifles primed and ready. Up above, three agents had fast roped down from the helicopter above and were standing on the roof, ready to swing down and smash through the third-story windows. In the back, four agents crouched at the sides of the glass sliding door, ready for action.

Inside, Plague cracked his knuckled and smiled under his mask. He looked over to two mercenary-looking Fiends sitting to the side, and they began to walk up the stairs, their submachine guns at the ready. Daniel had his eye trained on the door. He handed Plague a red detonator. Talia, another one of Plague's chosen, took position on the steps leading to the third floor, a shotgun cradled in her arms. As she touched the cracked and peeling wallpaper that lined the steps, her skin color changed to match it. Active camouflage. Plague generated two more phages. Now eight and all stood at the landing above, ready to strike. They shivered with anticipation. In the room below, the Fiends found places to hide. The first floor was a kitchen and living room, with the living room in the back and the kitchen adjacent to the front door. Couches were flipped and furniture turned into barricades. The fridge was shoved out of its place in the wall and moved into the line of fire to act as a shield. Three men hid behind the counter. One hid in the closet. As the breaching charge was slapped onto the door from the other side, the whole building seemed to grow quiet. Then the door blew and all Hell broke loose.

Nightmare by Avenged Sevenfold

As the door blew into pieces, the first floor exploded into chaos. Shouts and gunfire filled the air as six NEST agents ran in the front door wielding shotguns and assault rifles. The back doors exploded as more agents rushed in from the other side. Up above, the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass could be heard. Daniel fired the RPG; one of the agents shouted as he was suddenly blown into pieces. He dove down a hallway as one agent turned his gun on the second story landing. Plague ducked down and fired at the man. The phages soared in to attack, flying through the air like a swarm of horrible wasps. They slashed at the agents with their metallic claws and swarmed around them, attempting to find a good entry point for their probe to be injected. One found a fleshy spot on an agent's upper thigh. It dug its legs in and, lowering itself, fired a needle from its abdomen into the man's thigh. It injected a full dosage of disease, and then disintegrated.

Up on the third floor, the NEST agents roped in to find themselves set up. Before they hit the ground, gunfire was upon them, and they didn't last long. One of them skidded along the ground and kicked one of Plague's men in the gut, slamming him into the bookshelf. He turned to swing at the other's face and found the barrel of a shotgun pointing at his head.

The Fiends on the floor below did not fare well. They were surrounded on both sides with men much better-trained than they, and thusly they dropped like flies. The fighting on the floor below soon degraded into hand-to-hand combat, with Plague and Daniel firing pot shots into the seething crowd. Plague didn't care if any of the men were apprehended; they were all infected, all but his chosen few, and they would die soon anyways. The phages did their work well, tearing away at vulnerable spots in the agents' armor and severely wounding two of them. The one who had been injected was writhing on the floor. Plague could hear his breaths coming in rasps. As the last group-level Fiend or two fell, the guns began to train themselves on the second level, where Plague and Daniel were. As soon as the first bullet grazed the railing, Plague pulled the trigger on the detonator. The building shook and roared as remote explosives under the first floor floorboards activated. The floor collapsed in a mushroom cloud of smoke, taking with it the kitchen, the first-story steps, and most of the house's facade. The agents fell to their deaths. Plague nodded, but before he could enjoy his victory he heard more shouts from outside. One of Plague's men jumped down from the third-floor landing onto the second floor.

"National Guard outside," he said. "We've got to go." Plague and Daniel ran for the stairs as soldiers began to file into the room. They found the floor to be surprisingly absent. Up above, Plague and his chosen walked into a closet on the third floor. Plague nodded to one of the men, and they kicked the back wall. It fell apart effortlessly, creating a passageway to the next row house. They would go through the houses all the way to the end, where they could climb down a fire escape to safety. Plague had this exit plan perfected. The only hitch would be that it would have to be done in broad daylight. He would have to think on his feet if he wanted to make it out of this alive. He had three more phages; those would come in handy, but they couldn't stop the National Guard. They were simply too strong. As Plague heard shouts from behind him, he decided that he would figure out where to go when he got there.

---

Carole Elias and Taylor Pierpoint

---

This could not have been a bigger disaster. Just hours before Carolina Elias was about to leave for her photo shoot for the next edition of Teen Vogue, a terrorist attack trapped her inside for the rest of the day. Taylor was with her at the time, luckily, so she wasn't completely alone, but when the streets are filled with hallucinogenic smoke and bodies, it's hard to be in a good mood. At this point, Carole just wanted to leave, but the photographer promised her that he would reschedule somewhere safer and would get on the phone with a few friends of his to get her in Playboy within the next few months.

Taylor, of course, thought this was absolutely ridiculous. The moment that Carole told her with excitement that the photographer promised to get her in Playboy, Taylor was once again reminded of the true measure of Carole's utter narcissism. "I understand that you like it when people look at you, cherie," Taylor said "but do you really want your breasts in magazines and on web pages all across the world?" Apparently, Carole's answer was yes.

The two friends were now in Knightdale Rows, sitting at a cafe by the beach. Both were wearing two-piece swimsuits under cover-ups of some sort, and one of Taylor's sandals hung off of the edge of her toes as she looked at the menu. Carole's Versace swimsuit was a bright scarlet, and she had the cover-up lowered below her shoulders. She had done this after she noticed a very attractive boy sitting a few tables over gazing at her, and occasionally she stole fleeting glances at him from over her Tom Ford sunglasses. Taylor sighed.

"Isn't he adorable?" Carole muttered to Taylor, trying to make it seem like she wasn't talking about the boy who was staring at her.

"Unless he has a twin brother, I'm not interested," Taylor replied, sipping at her cappuccino. Carole hadn't touched her iced tea since she had first spotted the boy. As a joke, Taylor froze it solid to see if she would notice. Thus far, she had not. After another minute or so of Carole having a staring contest with her boy, she got up and walked over to him. Taylor sighed and, paying the bill, walked out across the boardwalk to the beach. She sat down on a bench and crossed her left leg over her right. She could be waiting here for a long time.

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

@Raijinslayer I remember a while back someone running a character who had the ability to assume the physical appearance and powers of another metahuman by murdering them. Your could look into that as a possibility. That would also make your character age much slower, as they could switch bodies with someone younger (via murder). I'd imagine someone particularly diabolical could life like that for a while, but they wouldn't be immortal because they could still be killed.

Verthaven: A Bloody Paradise [Completed]

@Raijinslayer I'm going to be completely honest with you. If it has the word "immortality" in it, it's not going to fly.