"Get your ass over here and do something," Orren snarled at Bloodhound into his headset as he dodged a rogue iceblast. He made a lunge at the ice villain, blades made of blood erupting from his hands. However, he found it hard to get close enough to do any actual damage without getting frozen. After a couple close calls, Dylan surprisingly stepped up to plate to try and subdue the guy.
The clown's hands raised as he created whatever personal hell the iceman feared. Frostbite paused and looked around, confused and scared, before turning to run down an alley. Well, that wasn't the plan, but maybe they could corner him. Pierrot pursued, his stupid jester hat jingling as he ran. He entered the side alley to find the villain waiting for him at the other end. Pierrot hesitated before jogging to catch up with him. Frostbite lifted a hand, and suddenly one foot was unable to move. Dylan fell, his right ankle giving a nasty crack. His foot was frozen to the ground, his ankle broken from the fall. The villain only cackled and went to rejoin the fight.
Pierrot let out a pained whimper as he tried to pull his foot free, but to not avail. "Firefly!" He called out Per's alias in hopes that she'd come free him; he doubted it. Last he checked, she still had a phobia of clowns.
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"Don't mind if I do," The villain hissed as he turned around, ice shooting from his hand to coat the hero in a thick layer. He then reached behind his back to draw his weapon: a strange looking blade indeed. The villain strode towards the frozen hero. "Don't tell me you came alone. Where are your friends? I was hoping for a bit more turnout."
The hero before him was too big and bulky; he simply would not make the plan work. But Frostbite figured the more danger their ally was in, the pep the heroes would put in their step. He raised his blade up and brought it down into the suit's shoulder. The blade didn't penetrate the suit, but left icy crystals behind in the gash it made in the ice prison. The crystals soon began to grow inwards. Strong and fast, it wouldn't take them long to penetrate the armor. Of course, the villain didn't know that this was probably not the best idea.
The hero before him was too big and bulky; he simply would not make the plan work. But Frostbite figured the more danger their ally was in, the pep the heroes would put in their step. He raised his blade up and brought it down into the suit's shoulder. The blade didn't penetrate the suit, but left icy crystals behind in the gash it made in the ice prison. The crystals soon began to grow inwards. Strong and fast, it wouldn't take them long to penetrate the armor. Of course, the villain didn't know that this was probably not the best idea.
Sure
An abused drug addict (my character) escapes his persecutors and is found by a kind soul (your character) who, for whatever reason, wants to help. PM me for more details.
Bump?
Ohai. I may be interested.
lolbump
It didn't take Ichor and Firefly long to subdue the bank robbing thieves. They were back at the headquarters in a couple hours, having spoken to the police, gotten the criminals secured, and taken care of their loose ends. Orren went off to read whatever shitty romance novel he had picked up recently , and Per went to go do whatever it was she did to spend time.
By now, Dylan had finished breakfast. He was dressed in his purple shirt and goofy costume, his face painted up like a clown. The guy would walk around all day with the paint on, occasionally smearing it on things, much to Orren's dismay. He managed to track down Per to show her some stupid magic trick he'd recently learned, only to scare her half to death and catch a hallway on fire. It was business as usual.
Meanwhile, across town, trouble was brewing.
"Sir, are you sure this plan will work?"
"Do I look unsure to you?" The voice was lightly accented. It belonged to a fairly young man who was probably in his late twenties or early thirties. He was tall and lean, dressed like he was from the North Pole, and sported a large blade of some type on his back. He didn't look like the friendly type. The two were standing in an elevator that was slowly rising.
"It's just that...your father tried this very plan not but a few years ago, and you see where that got him."
"My father was a fool," The man snapped at his assistant. "He went about it all wrong. One can not just blindly attack the city of heroes and hope to kill them all. You must have a plan, a strategy. I will prevail where my father failed; and then he will see who is better than who." The man clearly had some sort of parental issues going on here, and probably a few others as well.
"With the heroes fallen, the city will follow, and then the country, then the world. This is the beginning of a beautiful thing, Rubin."
The elevator doors opened, revealing an old, worn out grocery store, the cover for the villain's layer. The store had long since been closed. The man strode out of the front door and onto the street. He grinned sinisterly as he passed a group of schoolchildren walking home from school.
"Remember the name Frostbite, kids," He said with a sneer. "It may be in the history books some day." With that, he held his hand out towards the street, ice shooting from his fingertips. The road froze over, sending an oncoming car jackknifing. It hit a water hydrant, water spurting out everywhere. The man continued across the street, freezing and chilling whatever he pleased, causing as much of a scene as he could.
By now, Dylan had finished breakfast. He was dressed in his purple shirt and goofy costume, his face painted up like a clown. The guy would walk around all day with the paint on, occasionally smearing it on things, much to Orren's dismay. He managed to track down Per to show her some stupid magic trick he'd recently learned, only to scare her half to death and catch a hallway on fire. It was business as usual.
Meanwhile, across town, trouble was brewing.
"Sir, are you sure this plan will work?"
"Do I look unsure to you?" The voice was lightly accented. It belonged to a fairly young man who was probably in his late twenties or early thirties. He was tall and lean, dressed like he was from the North Pole, and sported a large blade of some type on his back. He didn't look like the friendly type. The two were standing in an elevator that was slowly rising.
"It's just that...your father tried this very plan not but a few years ago, and you see where that got him."
"My father was a fool," The man snapped at his assistant. "He went about it all wrong. One can not just blindly attack the city of heroes and hope to kill them all. You must have a plan, a strategy. I will prevail where my father failed; and then he will see who is better than who." The man clearly had some sort of parental issues going on here, and probably a few others as well.
"With the heroes fallen, the city will follow, and then the country, then the world. This is the beginning of a beautiful thing, Rubin."
The elevator doors opened, revealing an old, worn out grocery store, the cover for the villain's layer. The store had long since been closed. The man strode out of the front door and onto the street. He grinned sinisterly as he passed a group of schoolchildren walking home from school.
"Remember the name Frostbite, kids," He said with a sneer. "It may be in the history books some day." With that, he held his hand out towards the street, ice shooting from his fingertips. The road froze over, sending an oncoming car jackknifing. It hit a water hydrant, water spurting out everywhere. The man continued across the street, freezing and chilling whatever he pleased, causing as much of a scene as he could.
Here is the post.
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