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The Watcher on the Wall
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Maybe you can add more criminal targets to eliminate some of my guilt? :P
Posted. Scratch one decent man.
If there's anything wrong with it please say so and I will edit accordingly.
If there's anything wrong with it please say so and I will edit accordingly.
"David Flores, it's a pleasure." Los Angeles smiled briefly but remained standing, leaning back on a wall to listen to the pastor.
Los Angeles nodded in understanding, "There's no need. I can understand what he's going through and I'm not exactly the picture of friendliness myself." He allowed himself a brief, rueful grin and for a moment he felt a twinge in his heart. He'd seen stories like this dozens of times over. Honest, hard-working, decent people struggling to survive. And the compassionless puppetmasters and puppets who rob them of that.
This man was a good man. The kind of man that might have saved Los Angeles when he was younger. But those days were past. Los Angeles was not a good man. At this point he was hardly a man at all, just a cluster of organs, brain functions, and the occasional flash of emotion. This moment spurred one such flash of Humanity. It was snuffed out almost instantly. The high road was the hard one. And it was often cut short. Los Angeles made a commitment to make it quick and painless.
Los Angeles adopted a grim expression and reached into his coat withdrawing a slim black wallet-sized object and flipped it open revealing a very convincing fake DEA badge, "That's actually exactly the kind of thing I want to talk about, I just needed to get you alone. Special Agent David Flores with the DEA. I'm part of a joint FBI-DEA Task Force investigating Cunningham. We need to put a stop to him and I think you can help us."
He walked forward and replaced the badge in his jacket drawing out a piece of paper and a digital voice recorder. He placed the piece of paper and slid it forward while activating the recorder and placing it on the table as well, "These are a list of people we believe Roman Cunningham is looking to kill." The paper listed all of the targets except for the pastor himself, "You're a pastor. You have your fingers on the pulse of this community." Los Angeles went back to the door and locked it and closed the shades into the office.
Los Angeles poured the traces of empathy and compassion he had for this man into his eyes as he looked at him, "I know it's a risk but we're willing to offer protection. And if you can tell us everything you might know about these people, we could use it to better protect them. We could save lives. And anything you can tell us about Cunningham: anything at all, even rumors it'd be a great help." Los Angeles placed his hand on the pastor's shoulder, "We need your help. You have a chance to bring down the forces that are destroying this community."
He kept the recorder on and let the pastor talk. Whether he told him or not, he listened in full. After the pastor was done speaking he turned off the recorder and recovered the list and device before saying, "Thank you James you've been a big help. Just know we're going to get this guy." Los Angeles placed his hand around his shoulder again and walked behind him. A knife flashed into his hands from the sheath on his forearm. Long, flat, and sharp it was made for thrusting deep into flesh. He drew it by the handle and flicked it in his wrist so the business end pointed at the man's skull. The hand on the pastor's shoulder rushed to cover his mouth while the knife flashed forward.
The blade sank into the Pastor at the base of the skull and before the first vertebrae. It happened with such speed, the knife and hand were a blur as they rushed into the Pastor who barely had any idea what was going on before he died. His spinal cord was severed and his breathing and heartbeat stopped instantly. Los Angeles' hand remained over his mouth on the off chance he made any noise as he silently dropped forward.
Los Angeles retracted his blade and carefully sat the Pastor back up in his chair, closing his eyelids. It might have looked like the Pastor was taking a nap. Los Angeles took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood off the knife before putting it back in the sheath. Once upon a time he might have said a quick prayer but no more. The way the whole kill occurred would have to do.
After the quick but grisly business, Los Angeles activated the man's computer if it was locked he left it alone but if it was open he plugged in a small but high-storage USB to copy any interesting files. Then he gave the office itself a quick once-over, looking into any drawers or containers but staying as quiet as possible. After pocketing anything that might assist him in his mission he looked back at the pastor and shook his head.
In another world, in another life this man would have been a hero. Now he was a casualty. Los Angeles unlocked the door and quickly but calmly strode out. He quietly closed the door and looked for a back exit before getting out of the church and taking a long way back to his car while keeping a lookout for anything suspicious. He made it back to his car and got in before going over the list on his phone. He crossed off the pastor before looking for another target.
He decided to stick to the easy marks and thought Sigurd Lindquist was a likely candidate. He calmly drove off to the Personville Herald, taking his time and keeping an eye out for any tails. He found the building and took a nice drive around to scope out the building and its details. It was the middle of the day and the building was likely to be busy. Los Angeles parked a nice distance away from the building and strolled on in with an average air about himself.
Los Angeles eyed his surroundings while he approached the front desk. He smiled at the receptionist, "Hey. Is Sigurd Lindquist in? I think I might have something that he'd be interested in and I'd like to have a meeting to discuss it."
Los Angeles nodded in understanding, "There's no need. I can understand what he's going through and I'm not exactly the picture of friendliness myself." He allowed himself a brief, rueful grin and for a moment he felt a twinge in his heart. He'd seen stories like this dozens of times over. Honest, hard-working, decent people struggling to survive. And the compassionless puppetmasters and puppets who rob them of that.
This man was a good man. The kind of man that might have saved Los Angeles when he was younger. But those days were past. Los Angeles was not a good man. At this point he was hardly a man at all, just a cluster of organs, brain functions, and the occasional flash of emotion. This moment spurred one such flash of Humanity. It was snuffed out almost instantly. The high road was the hard one. And it was often cut short. Los Angeles made a commitment to make it quick and painless.
Los Angeles adopted a grim expression and reached into his coat withdrawing a slim black wallet-sized object and flipped it open revealing a very convincing fake DEA badge, "That's actually exactly the kind of thing I want to talk about, I just needed to get you alone. Special Agent David Flores with the DEA. I'm part of a joint FBI-DEA Task Force investigating Cunningham. We need to put a stop to him and I think you can help us."
He walked forward and replaced the badge in his jacket drawing out a piece of paper and a digital voice recorder. He placed the piece of paper and slid it forward while activating the recorder and placing it on the table as well, "These are a list of people we believe Roman Cunningham is looking to kill." The paper listed all of the targets except for the pastor himself, "You're a pastor. You have your fingers on the pulse of this community." Los Angeles went back to the door and locked it and closed the shades into the office.
Los Angeles poured the traces of empathy and compassion he had for this man into his eyes as he looked at him, "I know it's a risk but we're willing to offer protection. And if you can tell us everything you might know about these people, we could use it to better protect them. We could save lives. And anything you can tell us about Cunningham: anything at all, even rumors it'd be a great help." Los Angeles placed his hand on the pastor's shoulder, "We need your help. You have a chance to bring down the forces that are destroying this community."
He kept the recorder on and let the pastor talk. Whether he told him or not, he listened in full. After the pastor was done speaking he turned off the recorder and recovered the list and device before saying, "Thank you James you've been a big help. Just know we're going to get this guy." Los Angeles placed his hand around his shoulder again and walked behind him. A knife flashed into his hands from the sheath on his forearm. Long, flat, and sharp it was made for thrusting deep into flesh. He drew it by the handle and flicked it in his wrist so the business end pointed at the man's skull. The hand on the pastor's shoulder rushed to cover his mouth while the knife flashed forward.
The blade sank into the Pastor at the base of the skull and before the first vertebrae. It happened with such speed, the knife and hand were a blur as they rushed into the Pastor who barely had any idea what was going on before he died. His spinal cord was severed and his breathing and heartbeat stopped instantly. Los Angeles' hand remained over his mouth on the off chance he made any noise as he silently dropped forward.
Los Angeles retracted his blade and carefully sat the Pastor back up in his chair, closing his eyelids. It might have looked like the Pastor was taking a nap. Los Angeles took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood off the knife before putting it back in the sheath. Once upon a time he might have said a quick prayer but no more. The way the whole kill occurred would have to do.
After the quick but grisly business, Los Angeles activated the man's computer if it was locked he left it alone but if it was open he plugged in a small but high-storage USB to copy any interesting files. Then he gave the office itself a quick once-over, looking into any drawers or containers but staying as quiet as possible. After pocketing anything that might assist him in his mission he looked back at the pastor and shook his head.
In another world, in another life this man would have been a hero. Now he was a casualty. Los Angeles unlocked the door and quickly but calmly strode out. He quietly closed the door and looked for a back exit before getting out of the church and taking a long way back to his car while keeping a lookout for anything suspicious. He made it back to his car and got in before going over the list on his phone. He crossed off the pastor before looking for another target.
He decided to stick to the easy marks and thought Sigurd Lindquist was a likely candidate. He calmly drove off to the Personville Herald, taking his time and keeping an eye out for any tails. He found the building and took a nice drive around to scope out the building and its details. It was the middle of the day and the building was likely to be busy. Los Angeles parked a nice distance away from the building and strolled on in with an average air about himself.
Los Angeles eyed his surroundings while he approached the front desk. He smiled at the receptionist, "Hey. Is Sigurd Lindquist in? I think I might have something that he'd be interested in and I'd like to have a meeting to discuss it."
It's not about who starts first but who finishes.
People who kill pillars of the community in broad daylight rarely finish.
People who kill pillars of the community in broad daylight rarely finish.
I'd actually be pretty interested in doing Superhero x Villain or Prince(ss) x Assassin
But of the two plots you have, Pirate x Captive interests me more. Maybe you could add in some fantasy elements. If you've ever played the Wolf Among Us or read Fables that'd be pretty neat to mix in too.
But of the two plots you have, Pirate x Captive interests me more. Maybe you could add in some fantasy elements. If you've ever played the Wolf Among Us or read Fables that'd be pretty neat to mix in too.
Man I feel so bad for all these people.
In
The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Gonna wait a little bit more, see if Poly posts before I update. No pressure though Poly I just like to make one update for each batch of scenarios.
Yeah, it's a little foolhardy to be generous. If the death button was on I wouldn't envy their chances :P
Yeah, it's a little foolhardy to be generous. If the death button was on I wouldn't envy their chances :P
In
The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
I have to agree with previous sentiments about it being a bit overboard and I'll ask you to make some edits. I'll have an update later today.
Also I echo QT's incredulity about everybody trying to punch him :P
Also I echo QT's incredulity about everybody trying to punch him :P
In
The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Character Sheets
Pixi, The sheet looks very very good so far. Just know that Aurora is a Founder and one of my NPCs actually :P
In
The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
The Estate
Binary said, "Thanks Sixgun. We'll send somebody to pick it up. As for Midwest supervillains...." there was a bit of a pause before she said, "There aren't very many active supercriminals that remain on the radar. It seems they all went to ground when Legion started recruiting. There's a few dozen metahumans allied with the Outfit and there are international mercenaries that they might be able to hire. As for local boys... sources say the Panamanian is still unaffiliated and there are a couple dozen other lower-level supers that could be hired. I'll work up dossiers as soon as possible."
The two men nodded at Fletcher Ross, one catching the bottle as they began another argument. It seemed this one was a debate on who the best villain rapper was. One man argued that Quickshot's rapid rhymes beat out Freakshow's shapeshifting showmanship. His partner vehemently disagreed. They both seemed to agree however that Outcast was one of the most profound artists out there. They forgot all about Ross and Fontana's room remained empty.
Wire was shown in to Marconi's office where the two of them had since regained their composure. Marconi sat in the chair while Music leaned on the wall. Sixgun's bug had not been noticed and probably never would be. Marconi nodded at Howard who kept a blank face, "Glad to see you're alright Howard. I would have hated to have lost you." He stared at Wire, "You must be the go-getter. Tell me how did you find our boy here? And how'd you get him back?"
The Den
Binary said, "Just look at it, I'll use your implants as a wireless booster to... and got it. Downloaded all the files skimming now." Binary hummed as she speed-read through the information, "A lot of it is manifest stuff. Incoming and outgoing "converts" there seem to have been a few dozen superhumans and even more young women that went through here. Plus a bunch of shipments of potion crap. There's references to the Master and to that dead alchemist. It seems these women are all captures from their previous pimps. They took all the best girls, got rid of the pimps who wouldn't play ball, and started enthralling them. They've been keeping a record of customers and... damn there are a bunch of local businessmen and officials on here."
"The.... private rooms are on the second floor and they usually get business at night. First floor is a bunch of storage for their potions and where the Enchanter sets up shop. Apparently they keep all the girls they turned in the basement. They ship off the Superhumans but they don't say where. As for the girl..." Binary hummed even more while she read but then it died in her throat,
"She's a.... my god she's a Conduit." Conduits were among the rarest and most powerful superhumans of all. A Conduit's power was the ability to manipulate other powers, both meta and magic. A Conduit could weaken or even negate a Superhuman's power to nothing or accelerate their power to massive levels temporarily. They could detect powers and it was said they give themselves temporary powers. The duration and potency of the power changes depended on the Conduits's power level.
There were only two, perhaps three known Conduits in the United States. American Dream, a supersoldier in the Superhuman Operations Corps, Lady Liberty of the superhero team the Metropolitan Watchmen, and it was always suspected but never confirmed that Apex, public enemy number one, was a Conduit. There were no more than a couple dozen Conduits world-wide. Now it seemed there was a fourth American Conduit. And she was in Legion's hands.
Binary gasped, "Morningstar.... if they manage to bend her to their will. And if she's top tier... she could wipe us out. They might be able to depower Zenith and the Founders at least for a short time. Then they could have the run of the crime rackets for the majority of the country. Beyond even. We can't let Legion enthrall her. No matter what you have to make sure they don't get control of her."
Binary's nervousness came through the line, "If you grab her now they'll know and you won't be able to recon any further. But they can't have her. It's your choice, if you think you can scope out the place for the League to raid great. If not, grab the girl and haul ass out of there. I'll set up the evac just in case."
The Hall
Prudence wrinkled her nose at the smoke but didn't comment instead conjuring a small hand-held fan to blow away the fumes. At this point there was nothing to be gained from even trying to get him to stop smoking. She sighed but grinned right after, "Those things will kill you. Oh wait. Not a problem I guess," She giggled and continued, "Thomas is going to know you blew smoke all over his work." She picked up the emerald ring and buffed it on her sleeve before setting it back down.
Madam Rosario snapped her head back aghast and turned, muttering under her breath about back-talking familiars and sorcerers who were too curious for their own good. Prudence chuckled, "I always liked Ryan Reynolds better. Especially ever since they actually came out with the Deadpool movie. And I forgot to tell you. It only works if you have something of a person to put in the locket too. A hair, a nail clipping, anything like that. You wouldn't need it for a drawing but it wouldn't look as realistic." Prudence grinned mischievously, "I snagged some of Thomas's hair after he got into the fight with the demon lord."
The Prison
Since Light did not gush blood like a fountain, a few droplets splattered Xaxx and Reaper. Knightmare lost his balance actually fell into the portal when Light hit him and Copycat dove back and his fingers turned into long claws. Diluvian raised his hand and the droplets of mist started moving. They coalesced into almost solid streamers of stinging liquid that shot straight into her eyes. Polaris raised a hand and a beam of light slammed into her and slammed her against a wall. Xaxx and Reaper began firing bullets at her while they side-stepped closer and closer to the once-again stable portal followed by Diluvian.
Sarco, Growth, and Behemoth were almost upon the portal as well. Polaris saw Hot Rod and chuckled, "That poser. I'll hold him off. Get them out of here." Copycat was about to protest when Hot Rod's punches slammed off of Sarco, Behemoth, and Growth with almost no effect other than startling them and making them even angrier. Hot Rod got in the first punch and a second but no more. Polaris turned into a corona of light and every-time Hot Rod zoomed in he zoomed away. He was as fast as him if not faster and Polaris's hard-light fists punched at Hot Rod in rapid succession as he blocked and dodged the majority of his blows, cranking up his brightness to disorient Hot Rod.
Zenith spoke into the comm, "Hold him off for a few more minutes we're almost there."
Binary said, "Thanks Sixgun. We'll send somebody to pick it up. As for Midwest supervillains...." there was a bit of a pause before she said, "There aren't very many active supercriminals that remain on the radar. It seems they all went to ground when Legion started recruiting. There's a few dozen metahumans allied with the Outfit and there are international mercenaries that they might be able to hire. As for local boys... sources say the Panamanian is still unaffiliated and there are a couple dozen other lower-level supers that could be hired. I'll work up dossiers as soon as possible."
The two men nodded at Fletcher Ross, one catching the bottle as they began another argument. It seemed this one was a debate on who the best villain rapper was. One man argued that Quickshot's rapid rhymes beat out Freakshow's shapeshifting showmanship. His partner vehemently disagreed. They both seemed to agree however that Outcast was one of the most profound artists out there. They forgot all about Ross and Fontana's room remained empty.
Wire was shown in to Marconi's office where the two of them had since regained their composure. Marconi sat in the chair while Music leaned on the wall. Sixgun's bug had not been noticed and probably never would be. Marconi nodded at Howard who kept a blank face, "Glad to see you're alright Howard. I would have hated to have lost you." He stared at Wire, "You must be the go-getter. Tell me how did you find our boy here? And how'd you get him back?"
The Den
Binary said, "Just look at it, I'll use your implants as a wireless booster to... and got it. Downloaded all the files skimming now." Binary hummed as she speed-read through the information, "A lot of it is manifest stuff. Incoming and outgoing "converts" there seem to have been a few dozen superhumans and even more young women that went through here. Plus a bunch of shipments of potion crap. There's references to the Master and to that dead alchemist. It seems these women are all captures from their previous pimps. They took all the best girls, got rid of the pimps who wouldn't play ball, and started enthralling them. They've been keeping a record of customers and... damn there are a bunch of local businessmen and officials on here."
"The.... private rooms are on the second floor and they usually get business at night. First floor is a bunch of storage for their potions and where the Enchanter sets up shop. Apparently they keep all the girls they turned in the basement. They ship off the Superhumans but they don't say where. As for the girl..." Binary hummed even more while she read but then it died in her throat,
"She's a.... my god she's a Conduit." Conduits were among the rarest and most powerful superhumans of all. A Conduit's power was the ability to manipulate other powers, both meta and magic. A Conduit could weaken or even negate a Superhuman's power to nothing or accelerate their power to massive levels temporarily. They could detect powers and it was said they give themselves temporary powers. The duration and potency of the power changes depended on the Conduits's power level.
There were only two, perhaps three known Conduits in the United States. American Dream, a supersoldier in the Superhuman Operations Corps, Lady Liberty of the superhero team the Metropolitan Watchmen, and it was always suspected but never confirmed that Apex, public enemy number one, was a Conduit. There were no more than a couple dozen Conduits world-wide. Now it seemed there was a fourth American Conduit. And she was in Legion's hands.
Binary gasped, "Morningstar.... if they manage to bend her to their will. And if she's top tier... she could wipe us out. They might be able to depower Zenith and the Founders at least for a short time. Then they could have the run of the crime rackets for the majority of the country. Beyond even. We can't let Legion enthrall her. No matter what you have to make sure they don't get control of her."
Binary's nervousness came through the line, "If you grab her now they'll know and you won't be able to recon any further. But they can't have her. It's your choice, if you think you can scope out the place for the League to raid great. If not, grab the girl and haul ass out of there. I'll set up the evac just in case."
The Hall
Prudence wrinkled her nose at the smoke but didn't comment instead conjuring a small hand-held fan to blow away the fumes. At this point there was nothing to be gained from even trying to get him to stop smoking. She sighed but grinned right after, "Those things will kill you. Oh wait. Not a problem I guess," She giggled and continued, "Thomas is going to know you blew smoke all over his work." She picked up the emerald ring and buffed it on her sleeve before setting it back down.
Madam Rosario snapped her head back aghast and turned, muttering under her breath about back-talking familiars and sorcerers who were too curious for their own good. Prudence chuckled, "I always liked Ryan Reynolds better. Especially ever since they actually came out with the Deadpool movie. And I forgot to tell you. It only works if you have something of a person to put in the locket too. A hair, a nail clipping, anything like that. You wouldn't need it for a drawing but it wouldn't look as realistic." Prudence grinned mischievously, "I snagged some of Thomas's hair after he got into the fight with the demon lord."
The Prison
Since Light did not gush blood like a fountain, a few droplets splattered Xaxx and Reaper. Knightmare lost his balance actually fell into the portal when Light hit him and Copycat dove back and his fingers turned into long claws. Diluvian raised his hand and the droplets of mist started moving. They coalesced into almost solid streamers of stinging liquid that shot straight into her eyes. Polaris raised a hand and a beam of light slammed into her and slammed her against a wall. Xaxx and Reaper began firing bullets at her while they side-stepped closer and closer to the once-again stable portal followed by Diluvian.
Sarco, Growth, and Behemoth were almost upon the portal as well. Polaris saw Hot Rod and chuckled, "That poser. I'll hold him off. Get them out of here." Copycat was about to protest when Hot Rod's punches slammed off of Sarco, Behemoth, and Growth with almost no effect other than startling them and making them even angrier. Hot Rod got in the first punch and a second but no more. Polaris turned into a corona of light and every-time Hot Rod zoomed in he zoomed away. He was as fast as him if not faster and Polaris's hard-light fists punched at Hot Rod in rapid succession as he blocked and dodged the majority of his blows, cranking up his brightness to disorient Hot Rod.
Zenith spoke into the comm, "Hold him off for a few more minutes we're almost there."
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